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chaos-ineffable · 4 years

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Snakeskin

I’m a tad bit late but here’s some snuddles (snake cuddles) for the Great Good Omens Snake Off. I haven’t written in a bit and forgot how much fun it can be so this was a nice reminder!

Edit: I thought of a better name while posting to AO3 but I still like Snuddle Time

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Aziraphale likes to consider himself a patient man. He has dealt with a lot over the last six millennia and humans, in all their chaotic beauty, have taught him that patience is indeed a virtue. But even he has a limit.

And that limit is currently being poked, prodded, nudged, pushed, and elbowed sharply. By his darling husband, no less.

“Angel, why do we have to go again? I thought we were going to have a bit of a lie-in. Do the whole lazy morning lie-in shtick. Cuddle, snog, get some well-deserved rest. Maybe even fuck, if we felt up to it. Why are we not doing that?” Crowley whines, following Aziraphale out of the bookshop and tossing their overnight bags into the back of the Bentley. He leans against the car and folds his arms over his chest, practically radiating displeasure in Aziraphale’s direction.

“Dear,” Aziraphale sighs. He inhales slowly, reminds himself that he is, in fact, in love with the demon, and releases a calming breath. “We have been over this. Anathema and Newt need someone to watch over their cottage while they are visiting Anathema’s family in America. It is only right that we lend them a hand after everything they did to assist with Armageddon. Now, please, stop asking. We are going, whether you like it or not.”

Crowley’s face pinches in anger and he grumbles something under his breath but he doesn’t try and argue further. He pushes off the Bentley and stomps back into the bookshop.

Aziraphale watches him go and adjusts his waistcoat in annoyance. All day, Crowley has been like this – angry and picking for a fight – and Aziraphale cannot begin to fathom why. Life has been good since the failed Apocalypse. They’re finally free to live how they like, to be in love and completely entwined in each other. They’ve been happy. So Crowley’s sudden bad mood leaves the angel confused and more than a little worried. But he already promised Anathema they would be to Jasmin Cottage by this evening, so there is nothing he can do about it now other than ride out the demon’s horrible mood.

Crowley returns with the box of pastries Aziraphale had put aside for the trip. He places them in the backseat and glares at them, ensuring they won’t dare to be smashed or go stale during the drive to Tadfield. “That should be everything. Get in, angel.”

Aziraphale chooses to ignore the grumpy tone and does as he’s told, settling in for a long, silent ride.

---

No one is there to greet them when they reach the cute cottage Anathema bought shortly after helping stop the Apocalypse. There is a note on the door written in neat handwriting explaining that Newt and Anathema had had to leave earlier than expected because of a miraculous ticket switch that will get them to America at a far better time than two in the morning.

Aziraphale glares at Crowley’s back as the demon saunters into the cottage before him, bags in hand and scowl still in place. “Really, dear? We at least could have seen them off.”

Crowley rolls his eyes, the movement obvious despite his dark glasses, and sneers at Aziraphale, “Yes, right, of course. Because going out of our way to help with their damned cottage isn’t enough, we should have walked them into the plane as well. Sorry I didn’t realize this was a fulltime babysitting gig.”

“Really, Crowley, what is wrong with you today?” Aziraphale admonishes.

Crowley doesn’t respond. He growls and huffs and grumbles his way out of the cottage, slamming the door hard enough to make Aziraphale wince in sympathy for the poor frame. He shakes his head and turns away from the door, looking over the bags Crowley had dropped in the middle of the kitchen floor. With a wave of his hand, they were in the bedroom, tucked neatly under the foot of the bed.

Crowley will be back, hopefully in a better mood. In the meantime, Aziraphale could really use a cup of tea. It doesn’t take long to find all the necessary parts and he’s lounging on a soft couch with a steaming mug in no time.

He’s working on his second cup when the door opens and closes softly. He waits expectantly for Crowley to wander in, an apology on his tongue and a fine wine between his fingers. But all he gets is the even softer closing of the bedroom door.

He lets out a sigh. He can’t deny he’s worried now. It has been over a year since they broke ties with Heaven and Hell, a year since Crowley has been this upset about anything and unwilling to tell Aziraphale what is wrong. He sighs and takes a sip of tea. He’ll give Crowley a little more time.

Two hours later and Crowley has yet to leave the bedroom. Quietly, Aziraphale puts his mug down and stands. He has given Crowley long enough to address what the matter is. If he won’t come to Aziraphale, then Aziraphale will just have to go to him.

He knocks softly on the bedroom door. “Crowley, darling, can I come in?”

No response.

He knocks again and asks the same question a little bit louder. This time there’s a muffled hiss. It sounds annoyed but Aziraphale learned a long time ago that when it comes to Crowley, annoyed doesn’t necessarily mean no.

“Okay, I’m coming in.” The door swings open easily and Aziraphale stares at the sight before him.

All he sees is black and red. Loops and loops of it fill the room, coiling around the furniture, writhing and shifting constantly. It shines in the low light of the setting sun, glimmering in a way only newly revealed skin can. Around the edges of the room, tucked beneath muscular coils, is a dried-up pile of old skin. A pair of eyes stare unblinking from the mattress, a sheath of white-blue scales covering their true brilliance. A blue-black tongue flicks at the air and Crowley hisses softly. He sounds ashamed.

“Oh, my love. You should have told me you were shedding.”

Crowley hisses again, his tail flicking against Aziraphale’s wrist and wrapping gently around his arm. He shifts his head on the mattress, adjusting his coils, each the width of a small child, and pulls Aziraphale towards the bed.

Aziraphale goes willingly. “Do you need help, dear? Water, perhaps? Although it looks like you’ve got most of it off yourself. And how beautiful you look. Your scales are positively gleaming.”

There is no reaction to his praise. Crowley simply flicks his tongue out again and recoils slightly when it brushes against Aziraphale’s trousers. He recovers quickly and presses his head into Aziraphale’s hand, rubbing his snout against his wrist and working his way up, until he is nosing at Aziraphale’s face. He wraps around the angel’s shoulders and squeezes gently, hissing a soft apology into Aziraphale’s collarbone.

“My heart, there is no need to apologize. I should have asked why you did not want to come here instead of assuming I knew. Let’s both promise to work more on communicating and we can forget any of today ever happened, yes?”

Crowley unwraps himself from Aziraphale and hisses in agreement. He lowers himself back down to the mattress and rests the side of his head against Aziraphale’s fingers. This close Aziraphale gets a better look at the eye caps. They’re cloudy with a tint of blue and completely cover Crowley’s eyes. “Do you need me to pull these off, darling?”

Crowley nudges his hand again.

Aziraphale pulls away enough to inspect the area around the eye, worrying his fingers until he sees a small flap of dried skin still attached to each eye cap. With a mumbled warning and as gentle a touch as he can manage, he grabs hold and pulls each eye cap away, taking his time to ensure he doesn’t cause any harm.

Crowley lets out a hiss of relief when the second eye cap falls to the floor. He raises his head and twists, inspecting the rest of his very long body before turning to Aziraphale. His eyes, back to their full sunflower glory, are enrapturing. He flicks his tongue, waggling it against Aziraphale’s cheek.

“Oh, stop it, you old fiend,” Aziraphale laughs, stroking a hand down one of the coils near his hip. “Now, why don’t you turn back so we can do some of that cuddling you mentioned earlier.”

The last word barely leaves his lips before he finds himself thrown onto the mattress with several pounds of snake wrapped around him. Crowley rests his head on Aziraphale’s shoulder and offers some more snake kisses.

Aziraphale shakes his head fondly and wrestles an arm free, patting Crowley’s snout before miracling a book into his hand. “I suppose this works too, wily serpent,” he mumbles happily before he settles further into the comfortable weight of Crowley’s coils and prepares for a long night of snake cuddles.

#good omens #great good omens snake off #ggoso #ineffable husbands #my writing #fanfiction #good omens fanfiction #snake crowley

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rudjedet · 7 years

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Can you repost or post a link to your Smite shitpost :D?

Here’s my Extended Director’s Cut Special Edition With Additions of the original reply (disclaimer: it’s not as shitposty elaborate as Lottie’s because Lottie is queen, and I’m probably not saying anything she hasn’t already said either).

Anubis

First impressions

Oh, they call him the God of the Dead. GOOD START. Not. Also his parentage as described in the lore is only one possible possibility because if you weren’t aware yet, Egyptian mythological traditions are “It’s complicated” at their best.

Shit abilities

While I guess the term “Sorrow” for an ability is pretty fitting, stealing physical and magical protection? Stealing doesn’t seem very like Anubis, the guy who protects necropoleis which doesn’t equal god of the dead. Did he like turn into Setne Khamwas when no one was looking?

Plague of Locusts is just… sigh. Why is it always the locusts. Plague of Jackals would’ve even been better. Not good, just a hair better. Good grief, step away from the Biblical imagery people. It’s been done and not always to great success looking at you Exodus: Gods and Kings with your 17 inaccuracies in the first 5 minutes.

Death Gaze… Well, let me put it this way. I’ve yet to come across a text where Anubis glares someone to death. Or actually causes someone’s death. Also, did I mention he’s not a god of the dead?

And as a not-death god, not to mention the fact that MUMMIES AREN’T UNDEAD because hello, that’s not what Egyptians wanted at all, Grasping Hands is terrible.

Decent abilities/abilities I can live with

Well, he was the god of embalming among other things, so Mummify makes sense.

Skins

That gravehound skin is horrible and ill-befitting of Anubis because mummification kinda strives for the opposite effect of said skin. And don’t get me started on the demonic pact one because I want to barf.

Bastet

First Impressions

Goddess of cats. Okay, I guess, if you want to be really blunt and one-dimensional about it. And - an assassin, somehow? I guess that plays into the whole cat-like adjectives most assassins in shit fantasy novels are described with but errr.

Shit abilities

Pounce, Declaw? Cat Call?? Seriously? That’s all this game’s got? “Oh a cat goddess let’s just make her a neko with big tits to appeal to furries and completely ignore ALL of Actual Bastet’s inherent symbolism and give her lazy cat-related attacks instead”?

Decent abilities

No. They’re all shit.

I’d also like to use the space freed up by Bastet’s lack of decent abilities to talk about the lore description. Sensual embodiment of her female form, patron goddess of women exploring their sensuality? Okay dudes. You’re not succeeding in trying to hide your furry cat fetish and neither are you making me want to cut you some slack.

Skins

See above points. They’re all terribly fetishised and can we just talk about the Extremely Lazy Laziness that is a cat goddess in a fucking cat suit. Nothing “covert” about those boobs or that gun.

Terrible spelling mistake for “Satndard”, too. Some one-handed typing going on at that point I imagine.

Isis

First impressions

Goddess of Magic? More like Goddess of Trick Your All-Mighty Father Into Revealing His Super Powerful Secret Name To You Because You Made A Snake Out Of His Own Spit And Basically Almost Killed Him With It. Or Goddess of Shapeshift Into A Pretty Girl To Trick Your Murderous Brother Into Admitting It Should Be Your Post-Humously Conceived Son On The Throne of Egypt. Or Goddess of Feeding That Same Murderous Brother Your Own Son’s Dick Juice After He Tried To Rape Your Son.

Basically, title should be Goddess of I Fucking Own All You Guys.

Shit abilities

Wing Gust and Spirit Ball are lazy. Oh look she’s sometimes depicted with wings/as a kite so let’s give her a wing attack. And Spirit Ball because magician amirite??

Dispel Magic I’m on the fence about. I mean, makes sense I guess? But I guess I want to see more than Isis just dispelling magic. I want her to own her adversary with her tricks and intelligence and general gung-ho attitude. Bitch gets more done than half the gods together.

Decent abilities

Funerary Rites and Circle of Protection are okay, sort of fitting. She protected some people and she also was a funerary goddess so you can get away with those. Still also rather lazy though. Needs more “cut off your sons hands” or something.

Skins

O…kay. Judging by these horrific skins, her magic is boob-based. What is with the pose of Desert Omen? Y’all. It was hot in the desert, but their fashion wasn’t this naked. Goddesses loved their chic, Old Kingdom style, skin-covering dresses.

Bonus: Terribly Shit Lore

“Unable to locate a final piece” is the shittiest euphemism for “hubby’s dick was eaten by a fish and she made him a new one out of gold” I’ve ever seen.

“Long has she prayed”? Oh for the love of… She didn’t just pray, because she’s a fucking goddess for one thing, and also she is like the most accomplished magician of all the gods? But no praying sounds totally fair for Magician McTits.

Osiris

First impressions

Looks too beefcake for a “Broken God of the Afterlife”. I mean. Seth is the beefcake of that family. Also a warrior somehow. I don’t know man, I feel like if Osiris was a warrior the whole fratricide thing would’ve gone over a lot differently. Definitely needs more penis-eating fish.

Shit abilities

His passive ability burns away parts of his own body which is kind of… stupid, because cutting him up is what Seth did to him, even in this shitty lore version, and anyway I doubt any self-respecting Egyptian would want to mutilate his body in exactly that manner. Also, he needs to lose only 8 body parts?

All the rest is shit too. They’re all warrior attacks and Osiris is like this really chill dude who rules the Afterlife so why?

Decent abilities

Haha nope.

Skins

Too. Much. Beefcake. I think this is actually Seth doing a really poor impersonation of Osiris. That would explain the general oafishness and stupidity of this Osiris because Seth is dumb.

Thoth

First impressions

Oh man, Thoth is nasty. Feels very “You stole my book, so now you’re going to face the consequences”. So I guess kudos for referencing a piece of Demotic literature but “Arbiter of the Damned” is so inaccurate a title it physically hurts.

Shit Abilities

Hieroglyphic Assault and Glyph of Pain: two more for the growing Tome of Lazy Ability Names For Egyptian Gods.

Evade and Punish makes no sense even beyond the Egyptian inspiration. First you evade and then you punish? But you just evaded, so you need to get closer to your enemy first. And in the description it says “dashes in the direction he is currently travelling”. How is this even evading? Much confuse.

And I swear, these people need to get it into their heads that Egyptian gods weren’t one-dimensional incarnations of concepts, good grief.

Decent abili-you know what I’m not even going here anymore

Skins

Angry Bird of Doom. Doesn’t even look like a proper ibis. Vizier skin looks like an unholy union between Sobek, Thoth and Jurassic Park and I don’t even want to know.

#smite #ancient egypt #xaldinlance

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