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quillyfied · 4 years

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Mega Good Omens Fic Rec Post 4

I LIIIIIIIVE

99 titles on this list again and once again we have an extra category, and I am pumped that I finally got this one done! Got a lot of holiday overflow but suck it up bc here it comes. As a refresher, the categories are: Jaunts through History/Canon, South Downs, Post-Apocalypse, Bus Ride/Night Before/Heaven and Hell, AU/UA, Soft, Before (exclusive to this list and List 2, meaning takes place almost exclusively Before Canon, as in The Fall/Creation/etc), Touch-Starved/Body Worship/Wings, Bonus, and H/C /Whump/BAMF. Warnings for gore and explicit material present where applicable. I don’t read smut fics but sometimes more adult material sneaks in there.

Mega GOmens Fic Rec Post MASTER

PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF A LINK IS BROKEN OR IF I MISATTRIBUTED AN AUTHOR.

JAUNTS THROUGH HISTORY/CANON

1. You are a Call to Motion – @freyjawriter24 (G, the one where Aziraphale would like to dance but doesn’t. Very sweet and soft and kinda sad, follows Aziraphale through history wanting to dance (specifically with Crowley) until he finally gets to. The pining is so good, y’all.)

2. I love you because I know no other way than this – kriswithakay (T, the one where Aziraphale and Crowley use the excuse of being spectacularly drunk to get in little touches and kisses throughout history. This one is so sad and so full of yearning, the whole time you just wish they would face each other sober. It’s so quiet and beautiful.)

3. A Simple Thing – Sir_Bedevere (T, the one where Aziraphale gives out forehead kisses and Crowley is jelly about it. Continuing with the trend of being achingly sad and tender, this fic packs a wallop in that department. Forehead kisses aren’t always given at the happiest of times, after all. Also Crowley continues his stint as a pine tree and it’s painful.)

4. The Problem with Saints – Lurlur, D20Owlbear, robynthemagpie_writes, Wyvernquill (T and G, the series where it’s Catholic but funny. This series is weird and it’s hilarious and I hope there will be more, because this series goes through some fairly niche Catholic saint stories and the retelling of them featuring the Ineffable Husbands is hysterical. I don’t even want to tell y’all too much about it, just go read them and laugh with me, because they’re beautiful.)

5. When The Things You’ve Planned Need a Helping Hand – Proskenion (T, the one where Crowley and Aziraphale run into each other in the 1920s. Flapper!Crowley being a lounge singer is the centerpiece of this one, which is delightful enough, but throw in some canon-typical friction over the Arrangement and a chance for Aziraphale to come to the rescue, it’s a lovely little romp that has just the right edge of emotional tenderness to take the sting out of said earlier friction. Or add to it. Just depends on your point of view, really.)

6. The Serpent and the Lady – @summerofspock (T, the one where Aziraphale is Lady Fair and Crowley is competing in a tournament for his favor. Has female-presenting Aziraphale still using male pronouns bc that’s just what he’s comfortable with, and definitely, definitely has that Disney animated Robin Hood flavor. This fic scratches so many of my itches—Aziraphale in a dress, Crowley being a dashing BAMF, chivalric courtship, swordplay, armor, hand-sewn tokens of favor. A delicious little diversion, very worth it a++++.)

7. Sunlight and Water – @themoonmothwrites (M, the one where Aziraphale is a flirty drunk and Crowley has to be the sensible one. M for some racy elements but not explicit. This one is fun but then takes a direct left into Feels Town, which, when coupled with @cassieoh’s art, just makes the whole experience dreadfully unfair. A gorgeous little story, and the ending is just *chef’s kiss*.)

8. Sloth – libbyfay (T, the one where Aziraphale checks in on Crowley after the fourteenth century. This one is a delight, and includes Aziraphale recommending The Canterbury Tales, as well as a back-and-forth about depression versus Sloth and a lot of talking around feelings. Must absolutely be read in conjunction with the next rec in the list, which is something of a continuation. )

9. I have an aungel which that loveth me – HolRose (NR, the one where Crowley follows up on The Canterbury Tales recommendation from Aziraphale and it gets a bit deep. A continuation of the previous rec, and oof, y’all. This one gets hella sad, which hits pretty hard after Crowley laughing his head off about the funny bits in Canterbury Tales. There’s also Feelings, which are desperate and tender and guys they don’t even kiss but it’s still breathtaking. They love each other so much.)

10. (heaven is) a place on earth – rattatatosk (G, the one where Aziraphale nearly loses his bookshop. This takes place during the deleted scene from the 1800 opening of the bookshop, and has oodles of Aziraphale building himself a home and being devastated about nearly losing it. Not a nesting fic in the traditional sense (meaning it isn’t about building a home for himself and Crowley, it’s definitely just for him), but for fans of happy Aziraphale being fluffy and content in his bookshop, here you go.)

11. No other news to report – @argentconflagration (T, the one where Aziraphale is torn up about an assignment. Y’all want Crowley interfering in angelic plans? Y’all want tenderness and holding? Y’all want Aziraphale letting himself be bested? Then stay a while, because this one is a heart-wrecker. Featuring a very sick and very devout child, and female-presenting Crowley.)

12. These Things Were Here – @MajorEnglishEsquire (T, the one where Crowley resorts to snake form to deal with his feelings. This one is long and it’s emotional; Crowley reverts down to being a snake whenever he gets especially bad assignments from Hell, and it’s about him and Aziraphale finding balance and harmony between themselves when Crowley is like this. Very sweet and very tender and very sad.)

13. Crossing Paths – @amuseoffyre (G, the one where Crowley and Aziraphale meet every few years. This is your typical “through the ages” fic but it’s Fyre writing it, and that means it has so much humor and heart and history in it it’s practically like reading deleted scenes of the show. The boys are so in-character and their love is subtle and slow-boiling but there. Highly recommended, absolutely.)

14. apples (per the author’s intention) – @lwtis (T, the one where apples is a recurring theme in their friendship. This one is hilarious and it’s heartfelt and I quite enjoyed it; the bits where Aziraphale is absolutely convinced this is a temptation of some kind are particularly juicy (not unlike Crowley’s backside in a certain pair of trousers). Crowley absolutely knows how to beat a joke to death and he does it with style.)

SOUTH DOWNS

15. up in our bedroom, after the war – @rufeepeach (T, the one where Crowley and Aziraphale need to get away to process things. In this one, they more vacation to the South Downs rather than move there, but them working through the awkwardness of Armageddon’s fighting and gently taking their relationship to its natural conclusion is beautiful and good. It isn’t urgent or desperate, just quiet and understated and organic. A lovely piece.)

16. Somewhere Alive and Green – @thetunewillcome (T, the one where they make a necessary move. This one is quiet and reflective, as a good South Downs fic should be, and though it’s short I think it’s wonderfully healing. Very good.)

POST-APOCALYPSE

17. England’s pleasant pastures seen – @squidsticks (T, the one where Aziraphale has an appointment with a book collector and Crowley offers to drive. Y’all it’s so sweet and, dare I say, uplifting, how much they love each other. Someone drops the “husband” word at some point and someone else has a joyful fit over it and I bet you can tell who does what. There’s also a lot of teasing and the kind of easy banter that comes with knowing someone for so long. V. good.)

18. you have built nests from all my bark – @mutalune (T, the one where Crowley is nesting as an aggressive courting maneuver. This fic is so much fun. Highlights include Michael thinking Aziraphale must have a special connection with the Almighty and trying to emulate his lifestyle in order to have one herself, Crowley getting irrationally jealous over it all and constructing the finest nest known to reality (including cupholders, which I now also want in all my pillow piles), Dagon looking for a very similar thing from Crowley that Michael wants from Aziraphale, and lots of delicious humor and unexpected character interactions. I highly recommend this one if you’re having a bad day.)

19. Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance – @divisionten (T, the one where Crowley and Aziraphale find out how to get around Heaven and Hell and it’s through summons. More of an anthology than a solid story, and it’s such a fascinating universe, liberally layered with overcoming trust issues and adjusting to being in a loving relationship, and it’s Good Food y’all, trust me on this.)

20. That’s Not Funny – cyankelpie (G, the one where they’re exceptionally drunk and Crowley says I Love You and Aziraphale thinks he’s joking. This one is sharper than expected but it makes the moment where they finally have everything out in the open so much sweeter. Lots of protective Crowley and very confused Aziraphale.)

21. Stars – @lyricwritesprose (G, the series that’s a spinoff of Tales of the Them that’s about Crowley and the stars, ostensibly. It’s a spinoff bc it deals with Aziraphale’s point of view, too, and their careful navigation of a complicated subject in Crowley’s history. Very soft and bittersweet.)

22. In Action How Like an Angel – PinkPenguinParade (T/NR/M, the series where Aziraphale stumbles into making some useful wards and then Crowley gets taken. Rated high for safety but the violence is truly not that bad and the sex jokes are very mild. Come for cool worldbuilding, stay for BAMF!Aziraphale, and have some extra bits of Anathema and Newt being very good and helpful friends on top!)

23. Let’s share a drink! – @nohaijiachi (G, the one where Aziraphale gets horribly discorporated and gets his body back fairly quickly thanks to quick thinking and Gabriel being easy to gross out. This one is a bit gross, fair warning, but it’s not too graphic, and it’s hilarious besides. Peak Bastard Aziraphale Hours, this one is. If you like reading about Gabriel getting messed with, welcome to the party.)

24. Metastable – MrsCaufield (Not Rated, the one where Aziraphale is having an existential crisis post-Armageddon. Featuring lots of miscommunication, some mild jealousy, and Aziraphale figuring himself out, which is always lovely to read about. Misunderstandings and two supernatural beings being grossly in love, can’t get better than this!)

25. Taking Steps – @joyandotherstories (G, the one where Aziraphale decides he wants to take salsa dancing lessons and Crowley agrees. Oh, y’all. You like pining? You like awkward touching? Do you perhaps like…faked relationships turning into real relationships? You’d best have a seat and dive into this one, because the payoff is many-layered and just phenomenal. The pride in these idiots not only learning to dance but learning to be open about how much they love each other is so good.)

BUS RIDE/NIGHT BEFORE/HEAVEN AND HELL

26. Introspection and Starlight – d20owlbear (T, the one where Aziraphale has a breakdown and is hold. I seem to have a special taste for Aziraphale breaking down, and this one is Hecking Delicious—it’s a slow break but it’s so achingly tender and emotional, especially once sleepy Crowley gets on the scene. Apologies are made and two very tired beings just hold each other at the end of it all and it’s so good.)

27. The Longest Night – @charlottemadison42 (T, the series where Crowley and Aziraphale are taking slow and important steps. Three fics in the series so far, and each one captures their hilarious and effortless dynamic so well while still paying homage to their quiet love. There are so many cool details to explore, ESPECIALLY in the bodyswap fics, and overall they are a really fun and thoughtful look at how the Night the World Didn’t End could’ve gone. OH AND A FOURTH ONE HAS GONE UP WHILE I WAS WORKING ON THIS LIST and you guyssss so much good content about Crowley’s (Presumably) Foot Thing and Shoes, omg. A treasure.)

28. Last Confessions and Hopeless Loves – @girlwholovesherwords (G, the one where they very neatly and annoyingly slot into their new dynamic. This one is so matter-of-fact and tongue-in-cheek I about died laughing, which is amazing given that it’s less than 3k words. A very good little egg.)

29. Choose Your Faces Wisely – @cheeseandonioncrisps (G, the one where Crowley and Aziraphale set the record straight on how they portrayed each other. This is a fun one based on the very good meta bits floating around (which have been bolstered by Neil Gaiman’s commentary in the DVDs I will have you know) that their performances in each other’s skins is how they see each other and how different that is from how they see themselves and guys it’s so good, I wanted this conversation to last forever and ever.)

30. and I just want to love you, to love you, to love you well – BrinneyFriday (T, the one where apologies are made and kisses are had. Guys it’s so soft. Oh my gosh you guys the tenderness is unreal. There’s Crowley falling asleep in Aziraphale’s lap and there’s deciding they’re stronger together and guys pls it’s so good just read it pleASE—)

AU/UA

31. A Curious Case of Miracles on Marlborough Street – @nihilnovisubsole (M, the one where there might be such a thing as too much of a good thing. M for sexual humor and situations but nothing all that graphic. Y’all it’s the “angels accidentally cast miracles when they orgasm” crack given the serious treatment it deserves, and this fic also wins awards for its brilliant OC angel Sabrael, Keeper of Miracles. The icing on the cake? Beautiful artistic accompaniment to go along with the brilliant writing. Just delightful, a whole entire treat. An afternoon delight indeed.)

32. Too Much of a Good Thing – @yamisnuffles (G, T, the series where Crowley and Aziraphale are both angels and things are a bit different. It’s not fair that yamisnuffles is a distinctive and wonderful artist, they have to be a good writer, too, and be terribly talented at telling a good story. Crowley’s character arc and emotional growth as a disgraced angel cursed to live as a snake for a while is fabulous, and it’s only ramping up, so jump on the train now! It’s a good train!)

33. Measures of Freedom – KazLangston (T, the one where Crowley is an acquisition made by one Mr. AZ Fell. This is one of those “turn left” AUs where they’re still an angel and a demon, they just didn’t meet in Eden. Instead, they meet because Crowley gets himself captured and Aziraphale doesn’t think it’s safe to let a real, dangerous demon loose. Their relationship is very combative and antagonistic but it softens; the emotional journey they go on from clear enemies to clear friends is fantastic.)

34. Somewhere Down Below – jane_with_a_j (T, the series where Aziraphale is captured as an incentive for Crowley to jump masters in Hell. There’s lots of hurt!Aziraphale in this one, as tends to happen to an angel captive in Hell, and an excruciating amount of pining that doesn’t so much counterbalance the angst so much as spice it up enormously. There’s intrigue, there’s a daring escape, it’s radical, folks.)

35. How it Happens – @captainqueernerd (T, the one that’s based on a comic and both are DELIGHTFUL. The fic here is an extension of the comic and so sweet, oh my goodness how sweet it is. The best bits aren’t even when they cover the comic’s events—it’s AFTER that is the real treat. I’ll hand out brownie points to anyone who can find the sentence that made me put down my laptop before I accidentally chucked it while laughing too hard.)

36. mors certissima – @northerntrash (T, the Hades and Persephone AU where Aziraphale is Hades and Crowley is Persephone and they’re all doing their best. This is a super fun one, beautifully written and lovely original lore that has Aziraphale really coming into his own as a god of death and what that means for the wider pantheon and the world. And IT’S ABOUT TO GO DOWN where the fic is at the moment, I’m pumped for the conclusion!)

37. It’s All Greek to Me (that is, Ineffable) – @ulspi (UR, the series where Crowley and Aziraphale are cast in different mythological roles in each fic. This one’s gorgeous, you guys, haunting and romantic and each fic has a distinct flavor that is impossibly good. A beautiful way to spend a rainy afternoon, in my opinion.)

38. The Princess and the Serpent – @longforgottenhymn (G, the one where Aziraphale takes Crowley to King Arthur’s court to get a nobleman off his back and oh no, fake dating becomes real dating, oh no. You think you’re ready for this fic? FOOL. This fic is going to carve you up from the inside out and you won’t even be READY for it even if you know it’s coming. This fic is going to promise intimacy and deliver in terrible, terrible tenderness. I am being melodramatic but THIS FIC. THIS FIC IS SO GOOD. This fic is not what I was expecting and it hits HARD because of that.)

39. Wicked dance – pirripipi (T, the one that’s a royal AU with incredible depth and complexity. Listen, what this fic might lack in polish it more than makes up for in flat-out interesting worldbuilding. The characterization is on point and the nonlinear storytelling is very well-handled. And that ending! So triumphant, so utterly joyful. What a joy this fic is! Just wait until you see the Garden of Eden, it’s SPECTACULAR.)

40. The sun doesn’t set on the shoreline – VinWrit (G, the one that’s a selkie and siren AU. This one feels more like it’s being told in microfiction installments and that’s certainly interesting on its own, but it reads like a horror story and it’s chock full of worldbuilding, and the characterization of Crowley especially just breaks my heart right in two. What a great little story.)

41. An Angel’s Hope – @braver-stronger-smarter (M, the one that’s a crossover with the Kiesha’ra book series by Amelia Atwater-Rhodes and it’s delicious AF. Not sure why it’s rated M, but it does deal with a war and the fallout of dealing with constant violence and death. Explains things well enough that you don’t need to have read the Kiesha’ra to understand what’s going on (or, like, if it’s been well over a decade since you last read it…), and the integration of Crowley and Aziraphale into the main plot of these shapeshifter snake and bird cultures is effortless. Can’t wait to see where this one goes (bc even if it just follows the plot of Hawksong, it’s sure to be an exciting ride). (Side note, read the Kiesha’ra, it’s a good series.))

42. By Grace – @seaskystone (G, the one that’s the little soulmate AU that could. Not very long but still highly impactful in my opinion, featuring Crowley and Aziraphale meeting in heaven and knowing right away they’re meant for each other, but canon still happens as it does. Short and bittersweet and pretty.)

43. The Ones Who Walk Away from Nevaeh – @soft-october-night (T, the one that’s the “The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas” AU none of us ever even knew we needed but heck if we didn’t get it anyway. If you aren’t familiar, “Omelas” is a short story by Ursula K LeGuin that I absolutely believe you must read in order to get the full impact of this and what the author does with the story with regard to our two boys, it’s earth-shattering. Soft-october-night does it again, just goes and makes outstanding AUs that own my entire soul like it ain’t no thing. Completely unfair.)

44. Take the Fall (What’s a Second Time) – @triffidsandcuckoos (T, the one where Crawly does what it says on the tin. This one includes a nice helping of Crowley suffering from chronic pain as a consequence of taking the blame for the apple business, and some sweet care from Aziraphale, who is well aware it’s his fault. An interesting take and a heartwarming story (even if suffering from chronic pain is the pits and there’s no way around that).)

45. forgotten (but not gone) – @writeonclara (T, the one where their memories are taken and Crowley and Aziraphale still manage to stay away from each other for about .04 seconds. This one has some hard edges and it is a harrowing story about accepting others and yourself, and having faith in yourself and your loved one, but the way they can’t keep their hands to themselves when all the stops are pulled out is frankly hilarious and I commend this story whole-heartedly for committing to that.)

46. It’s Not the Years, it’s the Mileage – @moveslikebucky (T, the one that’s an Indiana Jones AU based on @yamisnuffles’ art. You want Aziraphale doing his best in an Indy role while still being an angel? You want Crowley owning a bar and it DOESN’T suck? You want pining and heartache and hilarity? Park it, then, folks, you don’t even need to know the Indiana Jones films to enjoy it (I certainly don’t and I am aware of this failing, thank you).)

47. or the look or the words – @taizi (T, the one where they just keep getting married and it doesn’t stop from happening. Guys they are literally married HUNDREDS OF TIMES throughout history STARTING AT THE ARK. They are literally so soft and so in love and I am beside myself right now, please love yourself and practice some self-care by reading this fic.)

48. Give me a title, I’ll give you my heart – @nohaijiachi (T, the one that’s a human AU based on fanart and it’s great. Single dad Aziraphale with a cautious past, determined son Adam who is gonna get his dad a date if it’s the last thing he does, utterly besotted Crowley who is excellent at being gentle and also a great beta reader…a surprisingly emotional and fun piece, very good.)

49. what if you fall? oh, but my darling, what if i fly? – Doggoos (T, the one where they loved in Heaven and outside interference tore them apart. I LOST THIS FIC AND SPENT FOREVER TRYING TO FIND IT AGAIN. The one detail that kept me going? Crowley (as Raphael) and Aziraphale exchange jewelry before Gabriel sticks his stupid nose in it and the jewelry is visually stunning and emotionally gorgeous. It’s emotional and it’s fraught and there’s erased memories to contend with but holy COW, y’all. They’re so in love.)

50. Snakes and Stones (the Crowley/Aziraphale Human AU) – @deerstalkerdeathfrisbee (G, the series where it’s exactly what it says it is. The opening fic for this series is where literally everyone in Aziraphale’s dorm thinks his boyfriend is made up and Aziraphale has the enormous pleasure of proving them all wrong. It has great Newt characterization and, surprisingly, Gabriel being likeable, though he has to work for it. It’s fun and a little silly and I adore it.)

51. in the arms of the ocean (so sweet and so cold) – robynthemagpie_writes, agent_of_mischief (T, the one where Aziraphale becomes a lighthouse keeper and Crowley is probably a sea monster. This is a horror story and it’s a love story and while reading it kept me awake at night, thinking about it also kept me very much awake at night. I am the world’s biggest chicken and the spoop is real, friends, but more than that, it’s the horrors lurking in Aziraphale’s past (and probably Crowley’s, I have some theories) that are the heartbreaking bit. Not for the faint-hearted, it goes hard and I have a feeling it’s only going to go harder.)

52. i’ve found a way (a way to make you smile) – @fremulon (T, the one that’s an AU of The Office. Requires no knowledge of The Office but I’m sure it helps. This is one I kept putting off and deeply regret doing so (though, on the other hand, waiting so long to read it meant that I caught up the night before the last chapter went up, so HA). Y’all, it’s so funny and so relatable as an adult stuck in a dead-end job I don’t like, and the romance between Aziraphale and Crowley is so simple and so sweet. I just love it and I love this fic and I want you to read it immediately right now.)

53. I Know Places We Won’t Be Found – FangsScalesSkin (T, the one where Crowley and Aziraphale run away together from the Garden of Eden. I have been waiting for someone to write this forever and it’s finally happening. And it’s got such fun worldbuilding, and their interactions are so cute, and I just love them and want them to be okay and to be married forever and ever.)

54. an imitation of the garden of eden – @dyslexiccrowley (T, the one that’s a D&D-inspired AU. Speaking of AUs that come out of hecking nowhere, here’s one! This one is a really fun adventure, and if you thought me turning the Bentley into a horse in several of my fics was fun, this one beats me out by a country mile and I couldn’t be more gleeful about it because THE BENTLEY IS A DRAGON. I could deffo see the dnd elements throughout but the flavor of it is so unique, I thoroughly enjoyed the adventure and the character moments.)

55. Hell is Just a Sauna – @anthonyjcrowiey (T, the one that’s a “Ten Things I Hate About You” AU. I haven’t seen the film (though I have read Taming of the Shrew and I have been on Tumblr long enough to absorb several gifsets), but this fic was still so good and managed to hook me right in regardless of that fact. I can’t wait for it to finish up, we’re on the emotional crux of the plot and it’s tearing me up how it’s been left!)

56. be mine tonight (be mine forever) – @qorktrees (T, the one that’s a literal “fake dating becomes real dating” AU. Human AU, and these idiots I SWEAR. Aziraphale needs a date for the office Christmas party, Crowley is available and bribable, and of course it ends in their ruse becoming the real deal, this is fanfiction for crying out loud. It happens so sweetly, though, you’ve gotta see this.)

57. Changes in Latitudes, Changes in Attitudes – @gigglesnortbangdead (T, the one where Heaven and Hell turn enemies into children instead of smiting. Oh, goodness gracious y’all are not ready for this one. You aren’t ready for the way being turned into a child affects an angel or a demon. You aren’t ready for the myriad ways bb!Crowley is gonna tug at your heartstrings. You aren’t ready for the way Aziraphale is when it finally happens to him. You AREN’T READY. This is precisely why you should go read it right now immediately, to see just how unready you really are. You should take care of that at this exact moment.)

58. Ineffably Yours – SecondHandNews (M, the series where Crowley and Aziraphale choose each other and keep choosing each other. Listen to me: this series is the length of several novels. I have only read the first one, after stumbling on a side-story that was really good and not realizing it was a side-story of a bigger series until I’d finished it. I am planning on reading the rest of the series, which is still updating. I am a little terrified at this titan who has managed to write over 360K words since June in this one series alone. The first one absolutely had me biting my nails and rocking back and forth in an anxious haze, and it’s so tender and so beautiful and SO NERVE-WRACKING. Crowley and Aziraphale learn the Rapture is coming and they just…kinda snap, really. Stop avoiding each other, start choosing each other, and all the twists and turns that comes with it. Just. Really outstanding work, I am an anxious mess but it’s good XD)

JUST SOFT

59. Where to Start – @freyjawriter24 (T, the one where Crowley nearly kisses Aziraphale throughout history like A LOT. Guys you wanna feel the pine crushing into your soul? You want to feel that deep ache of wanting to touch so badly but holding back out of sheer desperate force of will? Read this, prepare to have your knees appropriately weakened from the longing.)

60. A Softer Fall – @themoonmothwrites (T, the one that’s the wall shoving but soft. Bury me in this one, boys, my corpse will rest well for eternity, because holy COW the longing and the fear and the reassurances…my heart is a marshmallow now and it’s this fic’s fault.)

61. for the dancing and the dreaming – @une-danse-macabre (G, the one where Aziraphale proposes. Listen I know this entire section of the post is for Soft Fic but this is Softe Fic and I am not joking even a little bit. Crowley desperately deflecting using humor bc he is so overwhelmed? It’s more likely than you think. Read this, it’s a beautiful little shot of humor and romance.)

62. in candlelight, we dance – SaerM (T, the one where they take a shower together. I have a deep and abiding weakness for bathing fic, and even better, it’s not a sex fic! Just two ineffable partners being tender and washing each other and being together. So sweet and good.)

63. A Pile of Pillows – @waffleironbiddingwar (T, the one where Aziraphale seems to have built a nest during a weekend apart. There’s a few cute nesting fics in this here post but this is one of my very favorites; even has some wing grooming, and lots of teasing and kissing. Very cute!)

64. When the Wind Changes – Star_less (G, the one where Crowley makes faces at babies. Listen. LISTEN. You don’t have to personally like kids to go all gooey over how much Crowley seems to like kids, entirely without meaning to. It’s too cute. Someone call the Cute Police.)

65. with adorations, with fertile tears – waywarder (T, the one where there’s an emotional meltdown while watching a high school production of Twelfth Night. So sweet and unsure and awkward, this one; it’s canon-verse, Aziraphale just drags Crowley to a high school production and then proceeds to very nearly have an angelic aneurysm over trying to hold his hand. If you’ve a soft spot for the Ineffable Husbands quoting Shakespeare at each other, welcome to the party, you’ve arrived.)

66. Sleeping Angel – @whatawriterwields (G, the one where Aziraphale is asleep on Crowley’s chest. It should be noted that this writer wields tenderness like a weapon, stiletto right between the ribs to knock all that breath right out of you, which is a much more gruesome descriptor than I probably should’ve used but YOU GUYS CROWLEY TALKS TO AZIRAPHALE IN HIS SLEEP AND IT’S SO SWEET AND I CAN’T BREATHE.)

67. in so many words – @asideofourown (G, the one where Aziraphale has trouble saying “I love you.” This one made me laugh and “aww” in equal measure, but to get you to click on the link and read as fast as I did, Aziraphale says “thank you” the first time Crowley says “I love you” and I DIED.)

68. A First Christmas, Once Again – lalaland666 (G, the one where Crowley and Aziraphale get to celebrate Christmas together. This one has a fun twist on why Aziraphale dislikes the holidays and a really cute Crowley getting excited for them, and I think it’s well worth reading whether or not you find the December holiday season celebratory or not.)

69. (i love you) as you are – @asideofourown (T, the one where Crowley tries to change to be more like Aziraphale in order to keep him and it’s heartbreaking. Listen, this writer is great and more often than not draws me in bc the dialogue is so good, but this one just crushed my heart into pieces, because Crowley is trying SO HARD and he doesn’t have to but doesn’t realize that he doesn’t have to and AUGH.)

70. the commendation – @forineffablereasons (G, the one where Aziraphale’s ring is itself a commendation from Heaven. This one is short and sweet but it GUTS me every time, just over Aziraphale and how much Heaven screwed him over and failed him by making him feel like the failure. Something this short should not hurt me so much AND YET. Crowley makes it better. Obviously.)

71. the other way round – @forineffablereasons (G, the one where Aziraphale lays in Crowley’s lap instead. Listen we all love it when Crowley puts his head in Aziraphale’s lap but this writer has the right of it, we don’t see it nearly enough the other way round and HHHHGK. The tenderness. The softness. It BURNS.)

72. Every Song in Every Key – @impishtubist (T, the one with the seriously misleading summary. I mean this in the best possible way. Crowley being the one to enjoy the holidays is fun enough, but the true meat of this fic came out of nowhere and it hit me square in the squishy bits. One of the tags is “kid fic” for a little bit of a hint but I shan’t spoil it for you, just go read about Crowley being soft.)

73. shed a sweet light – @areyougonnabe (T, the one that’s not anti-holiday so much as a non-holiday holiday fic. That was probably confusing for you BUT IN ESSENCE: Aziraphale has been around too long to get too attached to any particular holiday (plus time passes so differently when you’re immortal), and attracts the ire of holiday influencers. It gets surprisingly dire, and then delightfully Jewish. Has the exact heart that every holiday story hopes for: quiet, enduring love amidst the chaos. A beautiful little thing.)

BEFORE

74. Unexpected Variables – @seaskystone (T, the one where God keeps having to reset the universe. Hands-down the most hilarious fic on the list just by virtue of God’s impending migraine in dealing with Crowley and Aziraphale, who are so incompetent and I love them so much.)

75. Astralphysiastrics – @wortlby2 (T, the one where Crowley and Aziraphale finally talk about Before. This one’s “Before” elements take place in flashbacks but given that they’re a pretty significant portion of the fic, I put it in this category anyway. Guys this one HURTS, but there’s healing in it, too, which is a beautiful balance. Ends nice and fluffy, which is a good landing after the flashbacks are done tossing you about.)

TOUCH-STARVED/BODY WORSHIP/WINGS

76. To Preen a Songbird – @tiger-in-the-flightdeck (T, the one that’s just some good old-fashioned preening, y’all. Prepare for these idiots being silly and bantering and teasing, because the back-and-forth is so good. SO good. So very, very good.)

77. Life Hurts (But Not With You) – Spider_Lilly (T, the series that’s about Aziraphale letting Crowley preen him. This one takes a pretty serious turn and talks about what happens to angels with slightly more realistic-type wings who don’t have help preening. Fair warning, there’s a bit of grossness with impacted preen glands (which are oil glands) and if you are squeamish I would tread carefully, bc it can get a bit disturbing when Crowley has to help deal with them, but if you like realistic wing care, this is the series for you. Also love. Also pining. Also they’re kind of the same story from different perspectives and the one from Aziraphale’s perspective is SO MUCH WORSE EMOTIONALLY. A good bit of catharsis fic, for sure.)

78. Descent Suspension – @onheil-ferguson (M, the one where Crowley could use some tying up. M for shibari but it’s nonsexual. Book!verse. I apparently have a thing for nonsexual BDSM and bondage, because this fic absolutely took my breath away. It’s very calm and understated and dignified, just feels quiet. A beautiful piece, for sure.)

79. The End (of the Beginning) or A Not-So-Nice or Accurate Guide to Sex on a Stick, By Anthony J. Crowley, Demon. – @fantasticallyobscure (T, the one where Crowley has been trying sex with all the wrong people. Not explicit at all, just has a lot of discussions about sex, which can be off-putting but now you know going in (if the title didn’t give it away). Basically Crowley keeps trying sex with people who have his same physical build and loses his appetite for it, until he and Aziraphale finally get their heads on straight and Aziraphale wants to try it. Some hilarious metaphors and a lot of adorable Aziraphale being jealous, which is a trip. A wonderful little romp, for sure!)

80. You Are Unbreaking (Though Quaking) – @lesbianscrowleys (T, the one where Aziraphale works through his knee-jerk reactions to being touched. A very good little snapshot of healing and working through things while communicating with your partner, and there’s a fun side-story about accepting who you are that underscores the main theme rather well. Crowley is so good and patient and Aziraphale is trying so hard.)

81. A Treatise Concerning Religious Affectations – forthegreatergood (T, the one where there are discussions of religious ecstasy versus regular ecstasy. This one involves more or less orgasming via manipulation of miraculous brain chemistry, and it’s a little bit funky, but you get in the vibe of the fic pretty quickly, I think, the writer is good about setting the tone. And it’s adversarial as all heck, this is a legitimate disagreement Crowley and Aziraphale are having and you feel every weighty second of it. It’s sensual, I think, but not necessarily erotic, and that’s a hard needle to thread and they do it very well.)

82. 451°F – @purple-suits (G, the one after the church bombing where Aziraphale wants so badly it hurts. Guys, oh you guys, the pure need in this one isn’t even really sexual but it HURTS, it is so physical and raw and achey. It absolutely put about five more aches under my skin just from secondhand need. Oh, y’all. Oh beans.)

BONUS

83. Chaos Theory – @themoonmothwrites (T, the series that’s about Adam hitting on Warlock in a bar and then reintroducing him to his old nanny and gardener. This one is 1. prime Adam/Warlock material, and 2. PRIME Warlock/facing his feelings and confronting his past and figuring out his future material. I have the weakest spot possible for Warlock Dowling and this one hits that spot like a LOT.)

84. Through the branches there’s a son that’s always shone – @jessicafish (G, the one with a contented Warlock. This one is a Halloween fic that has the softest Warlock and Crowley interaction of all time, it’s so short but it hits so hard and I must thank it for my life, really.)

85. Love, And Its Interference With The Nature of Reality – @souljellied (M, the one where Adam has a big ole crush and reality is warping for Warlock. M for some saucy makeouts at the start but it’s pretty tame. Guys if the fact that at one point the headlines in a news stand all read “TOP TEN REASONS TO DATE ADAM YOUNG” before Warlock blinks and they all change back to normal isn’t a good enough reason to read this fic then I don’t know what to tell you, it’s so delightfully tongue-in-cheek about Adam’s effect on reality and so funny and so sweet, even if it does end on a note that makes me howl for wanting a continuation.)

86. Slumber Party Summons and Aftereffects – @joyandotherstories (G, the series where Crowley gets summoned by a party of teenage girls and has a very heartfelt, productive evening with them. I dragged my feet on this story for incomprehensible reasons so DON’T YOU MAKE MY MISTAKES. The teenage girls who summon Crowley are so sweet and loveable, each and every one of them, and guys they ship Crowley and Aziraphale so hard when they finally pry Crowley’s life story out of him, with help from some memory projection witchery. It’s so good, y’all, so cute and so fresh. Just the best.)

87. Christmas Delivery – Daegaer (G, the one where Gabriel sends obnoxious Christmas cards and they are the highlight of Heaven’s holiday (to make merciless fun of). It should be noted that these Christmas cards all feature artistic renderings of Gabriel himself. I about died laughing and it’s canon now in my heart. I should not be endeared to the Archangels but here we are.)

88. and i don’t care if you don’t want me (i’m yours anyhow) – shaekspeares (T, the one where Warlock is figuring himself out at uni. This one is complex and deadpan and has such a good representation of Warlock and what he could grow to be, plus that excellent Warlock/Adam content I am always here for and Warlock having a complete meltdown over the idea that his former nanny and gardener were sent by his parents to spy on him, but not that they’re an angel and a demon. This kid has his priorities in order. Well, no, he doesn’t, but it’s fun to watch him get there. And he and Adam have the best dynamic ever, it’s full of friction and no small amount of adversarial energy turning sweet over time. This fic is physically healing to read and we aren’t even done yet. A fantastic addition to the fandom, if just for what Warlock does to the British equivalent of the Young Republican student body.)

89. Demonology and the Tri-Phasic Model of Trauma: An Integrative Approach – Nnm (T, the one where Crowley gets a therapist. I know most of you should know this, or at least have heard of it, but pipe down bc I finally got around to reading it and it’s AMAZING. If you’re a human who’s gone to a good therapist or who needs to, this story’s protagonist is phenomenal. And she’s not static in her own journey, either, she grows and heals along with Crowley, and it’s not linear or clean or simple. Like real life, it has dips and turns and bad patches, but the healing is palpable. A masterwork, truly, just real dadgum good, y’all.)

H/C /WHUMP/BAMF

90. I Don’t Want the World to See Me – @coulson-is-an-avenger (T, the one where they navigate an unexpected boundary concerning Crowley’s glasses. People who flinch every time they read about Aziraphale taking off Crowley’s glasses without permission rejoice: we have a fix-it fic for you. It’s tender in every sense of the word, and shows great boundary communication (y’know after the immediate scare is over), and all around is incredibly worth the read.)

91. Still Waking Up – @sleepymccoy (T, the one that’s trauma recovery with lots of bed-sharing and pining. Friendos if you want to feel every inch of that slow burn, you’ve arrived. This fic is careful and it’s emotionally ragged-edged and it’s just so dang pretty as Crowley and Aziraphale work through their separate issues and come to terms with what it means to them to be together with each other.)

92. Borrowed Scars – dreamsofspike (M, the one where Aziraphale finds out what Crowley goes through when he’s in Hell. M for implied/referenced rape and onscreen torture (and like some heavy petting that gets interrupted by feels). This one’s heavy, y’all, heavier than my usual fare, bc Aziraphale is in Hell wearing Crowley’s body when he finds this out so it’s pretty firsthand. Most of the bad bits are told in flashbacks but there’s also the healing part where Crowley finds out and he and Aziraphale have to have a heart-to-heart about what happened and how it’s never going to happen again. Drags you through the mud but then sets you back on your feet, a very good little number, I thought.)

93. Surviving Hell – @whatawriterwields (T, the series where Crowley’s coping mechanism is to shut down and then that coping mechanism becomes maladaptive in the new world. If you’re like me, you’re used to this writer writing the fluffiest creations known to man, so this foray into deeper territory socks like a cannonball right in the gut. Crowley’s healing process is long and it’s slow, with so much aching tender care from Aziraphale it is physically painful in a way. Can’t wait for it to update, I am INVESTED.)

94. Easier than Air – @a-candle-for-sherlock (G, the one where Aziraphale finally deals with stuff. This is a collection of panic attacks, as a warning; Aziraphale’s entire six-thousand-year life is catching up to him, living under Heaven’s eye and knowing he doesn’t measure up, still trying to be with Crowley even though knowing the danger…it’s a lot on a person, and it all kinda comes crashing down after Armageddon’t. Crowley takes care of him, talks and holds him through it all, and it’s so sweet, so freeing to vicariously fall apart through Aziraphale and be held through it by Crowley. Just. Augh.)

95. So Still I Wait – HotCrossPigeon (T, the one where Heaven locks Aziraphale in a void, basically, for three months, and then dump him back on earth for Crowley to pick up the pieces. Guys this one is part of a “hurt Aziraphale” series and it delivers. Aziraphale is his usual soft, silly self all throughout and that makes it hurt worse when he’s suffering, and downright agonizing when he’s trying to recover. Heaven is horrible to him throughout, and Crowley is so gentle and scared, and honestly I don’t know how I didn’t just keel over while reading it. This takes touch-starved to an extreme that booted it from the Touch-Starved category and into this one, because WOW. WOW.)

96. Flaming Like Anything – @thepoetoftime (NR, the one where any weapon Aziraphale holds flames. This one isn’t silly, exactly, but it is hilarious watching Aziraphale flame things like a stick and an umbrella and then absolutely CREAM his foes with them. Never stood a chance, poor souls. A wonderful read, with a surprising twist near the end I highly recommend savoring, it’s too good a mental image.)

97. Love Seeketh Not Itself to Please – @dietraumerei (T, the one where Aziraphale is hurt by a summoning and Crowley takes him to Heaven for healing. This one hurts on so many levels I don’t know where to begin. There’s the physical hurt—obviously—but then there’s the tension of our favorite reprobates being back in Heaven, and a moment where the rug is pulled that is disorienting and just…hateful, absolutely hateful, but in the weirdest, most relieving way. I cannot explain this to you, you must read it. And then sweet, sweet aftercare, because of course. I wouldn’t recommend it to you if there wasn’t any comfort in it, and this writer in particular has historically done excellently with the comfort aspect; this is certainly no different. It absolutely tickled my fancy.)

98. Cry for Absolution – forthegreatergood (T, the one where a miscommunication causes six thousand years of touch avoidance. Guys. GUYS. Crowley thinks his touch hurts Aziraphale and you know what it actually does? It actually hurts ME, personally, watching Crowley misread Aziraphale’s little gasps and flinches as pain rather than shock. Then they fight about it, and things resolve, but HHHNG. THAT PINING. THAT TOUCH-STARVED LONGING.)

99. White Walls and Dead Air – BabyHoldMyFlower (G, the one where Crowley has to physically take Aziraphale away from the plague. This one lands in this category rather than in the Body Worship/Touch-Starved/Wings category is the sheer (DESERVED) emotional vitriol Aziraphale has bottled up in him, the anger at God and Heaven, and how ragged he is from trying to stay ahead of the plague but just not being able to. Crowley helps, because of course he does, but this fic is the emotional equivalent of being put through a wringer. It’s exhausting and it’s beautiful.)

#good omens #good omens fic recs #mega gomens fic rec list #i guess i'm just gonna keep making these until i die #or until my gomens interest wanes #whichever comes first #phew what a big baby this post is

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new-endings · 4 years

Text

Deal with a Devil - nsfw

ao3: 1/2/3

The solution, in Aziraphale’s mind, was simple.

Initiating the steps to move forward with his plan, however, proved to be the problem. Because to go forth in one-upping his dear demon, he required a tad more information and at least a few hours to himself, which normally, wouldn’t be a problem at all. However, Crowley likely sensed something was amiss, that the gears were turning in Aziraphale’s head, and the tables in turn would well…turn. To avert this, Crowley did all in his wily power to drive Aziraphale up the wall to stop it.

Quite literally.

Aziraphale (reluctantly) wrenched away with a gasp and with barely a second to blink before Crowley went right for the jugular—

Or, whatever human equivalent of anatomy those pointed teeth latched on to, receiving quite the attention from Crowley’s mouth.

“Don’t think I didn’t catch you looking at me back at the convent,” he growled and Aziraphale cursed softly as those guttural words raced shivers down his spine. “I should have known,” Crowley hummed, licking and biting his way up from the line of Aziraphale’s neck, “that you’d be an incorrigible thing, angel. Calling me nice, riling me up just so I could put you in your place.”

A wave of heat made Aziraphale flush to the tips of his ears at the accusation—not an entirely incorrect accusation, but an accusation nevertheless. “And where would that place be, hm?” he teased, something dark and ancient from behind the heavenly makings of his corporation fluttering at the dangerous gleam in Crowley’s eyes.

“Why…right here, angel,” he purred. “Between a wall—”

Aziraphale let out a gasp, his newest Effort aching and wet as Crowley ground his clothed erection right where the angel needed it most.

“And a hard place.”

“Oh, you’re terrible,” Aziraphale chuckled, his own grin widening at the feel of Crowley smiling against his skin.

“And don’t you forget it,” he growled, playfully this time, kissing his love soundly. “Big bad demon, me. Making plans to have his wicked way with this here sweet, innocent, angel.”

Aziraphale hummed, resting his head on Crowley’s shoulder and hardly flinching when Crowley snapped his finger and found himself gently lowered to a luxurious bed with high thread count sheets. “And how are those plans going, dear?”

“Augh,” he sighed dramatically and Aziraphale gave a soothing and somewhat condescending kiss to his demon’s temple. “Terribly. You’re very stubborn, you know that?”

“I’ve been told so once or twice,” the angel replied with an indulgent smile, allowing himself to be undressed.

Several of their nights ended like this. No matter who instigated it (Crowley, more often than not), they’d eventually make their way to the bookshop couch or Crowley’s bed and have an absolutely lovely—if not frustrating—time together. It was nearly three weeks in counting since their little wager and while both parties don’t seem to be letting up any time soon, Aziraphale was still hopeful that he had the ace up his sleeve.

Now if only he could play his turn…

Once Crowley had carefully and fully divested his angel out of his well-loved clothes, it only took a snap of a finger for Crowley to remove all his and lie atop Aziraphale’s soft, supple body. Aziraphale, in turn, sighed with contentment as he carded through Crowley’s red hair, wondering just how to wiggle out of Crowley’s near-constant bombardments.

(Not that he’s really complaining.)

“Not getting sleepy, are you?” Crowley murmured as he pressed a kiss to the corner of Aziraphale’s mouth. “Should I be offended?”

“No, dearest,” Aziraphale chuckled. “Just thinking, I suppose.”

“Always thinking,” Crowley groused as he nuzzled into the crook of his angel’s neck, hand wandering with renewed interest over his lover’s body. “It’s a wonder how you haven’t gone mad without giving that brain of yours to rest.”

Sea-storm eyes widened. Well… there’s an idea.

Although Aziraphale was still a bit new when it came to the whole ‘sleeping’ ordeal, he could see the merits it held. For one, a well-rested demon was an agreeable demon, Crowley was absolutely adorable when he was warm and sated, teetering between the waking world and dreams, and it gave Aziraphale the time he needed to read, scheme, and plan while basking in the warmth and love he shared with his wily serpent.

All right, he didn’t really all that much sleeping himself, but Aziraphale rather liked the time they shared together, and as with all things he so dearly loved, he was prepared to fully indulge in it. Why would he waste that time unconscious?

“So, which is it, dear? Are you telling me I should sleep more or risk offending you?” he teased.

“I’m telling you,” Crowley purred as he straddled his lover’s hips, his hard cock leaking against Aziraphale’s belly. “That sometimes, you ought to lie back and just enjoy it.”

And judging by the firm, fervent kisses Crowley was pressing onto his body, serpentine tongue wandering lower and lower to watch Aziraphale squirm and pant beneath him, his dear demon had his own plans in mind to “indulge” this evening.

An orgasm or three later (with neither party surrendering their games just yet), Aziraphale collapsed back onto the bed with an exhausted sigh while Crowley positively radiated with contentment, smug as can be from between Aziraphale’s legs. Insatiable, Aziraphale thought, but not without a deep resonation of love from his own ethereal heart as Crowley slithered over to lay beside him, all tension and bravado gone from those lovely, lovely eyes of his. There, he gazed back to Aziraphale unflinchingly, without his glasses, and without the veneer of detachment. All that was left was love, powerful and engulfing, and a hunger that refused to be slaked once a taste had been given. Deep within him, Aziraphale knew where it rooted from—

Crowley had been the one waiting 6,000 years after all. Aziraphale, meanwhile, had only truly known is own heart a few decades prior. And Crowley—Crowley never rushed him. Never pressured him into choosing, deciding, and always left the pacing to Aziraphale in the end.

(Well, barring one frantic moment of trying to get the angel to run away to the stars with him, but that was mostly the apocalypse speaking. Or at least, Aziraphale assumed that were the case.)

Aziraphale was always grateful, but he sometimes wondered just how much 6,000 years of waiting and despairing, hoping and longing, had affected Crowley. Perhaps it made him cynical of Aziraphale and his feelings—maybe even believing them fleeting or insincere. Perhaps marking the angel as his own would give the demon some semblance of control over an otherwise desolate situation.

Or perhaps Aziraphale was overthinking the entire situation all together, like Crowley had said earlier. Perhaps his demon just happened to be a kinky, wretched fiend and liked seeing his lover branded for his eyes to see.

But as before, perhaps these weren’t the right questions Aziraphale was asking. Perhaps what he really ought to ask, now that Crowley was all practically boneless in satisfaction and compliance was: “What does it entail, anyways?”

Crowley gave a lazy, “Hm?” in reply as he blearily lifted his head from the curve of Aziraphale’s well-marked neck.

“The branding. With your sigil,” he elaborated.

That perked the demon right up. “Oh? Finally giving in?” Crowley gave a waggle of his brow, a bright excitement in his eyes that Aziraphale had to regretfully kiss away before his demon got too upset.

“Of course not, you foul fiend,” he chided as he drew away. “I’m merely curious, that’s all…what does the sigil do?”

Crowley eyes became unreadable then, a sure sign that Aziraphale would likely not agree with the details to come. “Marks you as mine, of course,” he said simply, but one look from Aziraphale made it very clear that this wasn’t something the angel was letting go of any time soon. Crowley breathed a sigh, tension returning to his form. “It’s…It’s to let others know,” he relented.

Aziraphale raised a brow. “Know…?”

“That you,” he growled, biting along the column of Aziraphale’s throat, “are indisputably mine.” There was a strange intensity in those amber eyes as Crowley seemed to internally war with himself, perhaps amending a phrase here and there for Aziraphale’s benefit as he began to explain: “It’s a modified Contract. One that other demons will recognize.”

Contract.

Aziraphale tried his damnest not to flinch at that.

It didn’t just stain a soul, it branded it down to the very essence—a mark that it was promised to a demon; that the soul would be bound to the powers of Hell and chained for its servitude for all eternity.

But this was not the kind of Contract Crowley spoke of: “It’ll warn them that touching you—harming you—will be a direct offense to me.” He cupped his angel’s cheek, watching those sea-storm eyes transfixed upon him. “The sigil is to mark your entire being…your soul, your everything…as belonging to me.”

Not Hell’s then. This was not Hell’s sigil, but Crowley’s.

He would be bound and branded for all eternity—

To Crowley.

“Oh…” Aziraphale said simply, almost appalled at himself at the rush of arousal at this one, wondrous, terrifying thought.

Well, he would be appalled were it not for the way tension visibly fled his lover at his mortifying response. Crowley’s lips curved to a devious smile at the sharp spike of lust from his angel. “Does that scare you, love?”

Do I scare you?

By all intents and purposes, it should. It should for a fretful being like Aziraphale, prone to dithering and second-guessing every important decision he’s ever had to make, it would only be natural.

Yet it doesn’t. “No…” he nuzzled his cheek against Crowley’s palm, watching with fascination as those serpentine eyes dilated with want and the air about them flooded with a vast, immersing love. “I don’t believe it does.”

Because it’s true, isn’t it?

Aziraphale fought for control in their relationship from the start: adamantly disagreeing to the arrangement, squabbling of the location of rendezvous points, the labeling of their relationship, the holy water—and Crowley going too fast for his dishonest heart.

I’ve been yours—right from the Beginning.

And Aziraphale…Aziraphale was tired of fighting. With that, he drew Crowley to him, six millennia of hunger, passion, and longing bleeding into single kiss.

Aziraphale withdrew with a gentle peck to his lover’s reddened mouth, chuckling as Crowley immediately chased his lips again. “But mark my words dearest, I’m still not losing our toss-up.”

“Oh, you utter brat,” Crowley growled, mischief in his eyes and startling a laugh from him as his demon redoubled his efforts to get his hereditary enemy to give in.

Aziraphale only needed a few hours. A whole day, preferably. Two to three days ideally.

Miraculously, Crowley remained quiet long enough for him to enact his plans.

(It was well worth the extra day or two spent between his lover’s sheets to whittle down his demon’s frustrations and suspicions.)

When he had arrived, sure, he’d gotten strange looks, what with his chosen aesthetic (tartan is stylish, and Aziraphale will carry that sentiment for however long eternity lasts) contrasting with his err…rather strange and bold request. Even the fine young lady at the establishment was sweet enough to offer him an out as well as heavily recommending against his decision—which was a fairly noble thing to do.

But Aziraphale’s mind was made up and he paid in cash. With that, their session began.

It was—different and just a little bit embarrassing, but the young lady was patient and Aziraphale was an ethereal being who’d been present at the very Garden where mankind had first began. Or, at least he told himself that just as the strange noises began and a foreign blossom of pain drilled its way through his nervous system. The first few hours weren’t so bad, even the first day, but now Aziraphale was truly feeling the aftermath a little under 48 hours later.

It wasn’t the worst feeling in the world. For an ethereal being who’d gotten discorporated, it couldn’t possibly compare.

That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt like the dickens.

It was just past five in the afternoon and three hours after Aziraphale gave up and decided to close early when the shop’s doors opened with a bit of demonic miracling. Aziraphale groaned, the tick of panic that surfaced wholly drowned out by the throbbing and burning discomfort.

“Hello, angel,” a sultry voice from within the back rooms called and Aziraphale, against himself, jolted in surprise.

“Oh, Crowley…” He cleared his throat, attempting to put on a placid smile. “What brings you here, dearest?”

His demon emerged from the shadows of a dimly lit corner with that same, teasing grin he always wore whenever he had plans to chip away at the angel’s remaining resolve. “Why, didn’t you miss me?” Before Aziraphale could retort, Crowley was upon him, pinning him to his reading chair with just enough force to get Aziraphale a little hot and bothered. “Because I’ve missed you, love.” He leaned down, once he was satisfied with the cloudy look of lust in his angel’s eyes, lips barely brushing against Aziraphale’s mouth. “What is it, day 19 of our little bargain? What say you to giving in, hm? Let me have you, take care of you like you want,”

It was actually day twenty, but Aziraphale tamped down on the urge to argue—after all it wasn’t as though Crowley weren’t counting down the days since he last came inside him.

So instead, Aziraphale said nothing as he leaned forward halfway to meet Crowley in a kiss. Crowley shivered in delight at the way his angel was drawn to him, practically melted against him, and he made sure to reward such pleasing behavior. Dexterous hands wandered, shucking off his lover’s coat and quickly divesting the rest of the offending material covering up such lovely, soft skin from his greedy eyes. Fingertips mapped the roads between his lover’s hips and Crowley reveled in the angel’s soft form. He startled when Aziraphale broke away with a yelp right as he brushed against the small of his angel’s back. “What’s a matter, angel? Snake got your tongue?”

But then Crowley raised a brow at the nervous titter of laughter that earned him. “A-ah, no, of course not!” Serpentine eyes glowered. To confirm his suspicions, Crowley gave a firm press to that exact spot, drawing a jolt and a whimper. “Ouch! My dear, please be very careful!”

“What’s happened?” he demanded, pulling Aziraphale from his reading chair and twisting him around. “Are you hurt?”

The unspoken demand of Did someone hurt you rang loud and clear.

Aziraphale spun around to face him, swatting the demon’s hands away. “I’m all right Crowley.” His eyes softened and he gave a quick peck to his demon’s lips in reassurance. “I hear this sort of thing takes a while to recover from, that’s all.”

Amber eyes narrowed and Crowley’s mouth curled in outrage. “Recover from what?!”

Before Aziraphale could even muster up a coy explanation, he was being crowded over to the couch and flipped over; he then found his trousers being pulled down and coat ridden up for Crowley’s inspection.

Then—silence.

Aziraphale expected some sort of teasing, a wicked laugh followed by a desirous touch to the marked skin. He didn’t anticipate the furious roar that eventually followed.

Aziraphale tried turning around but found it impossible to do so. “Crowley—”

Not with his lover pinning him down, lifting his hips to get a better look at the tattoo freshly inked on his skin. “My mark…that’s my mark—”

“Is it now?” Aziraphale asked coquettishly, biting back a sly grin. “I really hadn’t noticed.”

But Crowley seemed too transfixed on the ink to give a proper reprimand. Instead, he traded the edges and watched his darling lover squirm beneath him. He swallowed as his mouth watered with hunger. “Angel—it’s my mark on your fantastic derriere,” he repeated, the reality of the statement sinking in and causing him to growl, a burning possessiveness boiling in his blood. “Isn’t it, my angel?”

It didn’t escape Aziraphale’s notice. “Yes—and this derriere happens to be quite sensitive—”

“But oh, love, you’ve always liked a little bit of pain, don’t you?” Aziraphale bit down a whimper as Crowley reached down and thumbed his hard clit, his cunt already dripping from the rough treatment. “Yesss, let me get a good look…” And his hips were suddenly being lifted up higher, ass in the air as Crowley groped and grabbed at the ample flesh. “Poor thing, it’s all red and raw here…” The angel stifled a cry as Crowley pressed hard against the skin before soothing the hurt with firm, hungry kisses. “You bruise beautifully, my darling…” he murmured almost reverently. “It really is too bad this cheap imitation has to mar your lovely skin.”

Aziraphale sputtered. “Cheap!?”

“Oh yes, skillfully made, I must admit, but thisss,” Aziraphale stifled a cry, trying fruitlessly to squirm out of Crowley’s grasp at the unexpected swat to his bottom, “Isn’t a proper mark, love.” And to Aziraphale’s utter horror, felt himself wet at the guttural tone his lover took on as he inspected his backside with thinly veiled fury. “Oh no…this won’t do at all.”

Aziraphale bit his cheek to keep from grinning, victory at his grasp. “Ah yes, I did read up on that bit. The mark needs to be consummated to bind the soul, isn’t that right?” More guttural growls behind him and Aziraphale had to calm his stammering heart and mounting excitement. “Otherwise, I’m just parading around in a mockery of your sigil.”

“Correct,” Crowley growled, lovely and dark and sending all the right sorts of shivers down his spine.

“And do you—intend on rectifying this…” he gave his rump a little wiggle, delighting in the lusty, frustrated noise it drew from his lover. “…offense?”

Meanwhile, Crowley could do little more than glare and refrain from taking his angel—his absolute bastard of an angel—and mark the spoilt, smarmy thing the proper way right then and there. “Yessss…”

“And how do you plan on—consummating this—ah!” Crowley grinned, dipping a finger or three into the tight, wet heat of his lover’s pussy. “Contract of ours?” Aziraphale managed to gasp out.

“Oh you know exactly how I plan on it, you little minx,” he said, a threat more than a promise as he withdrew his hand, smirking in the moan it earned him when his fingers came out glistening with his lover’s slick.

But then Aziraphale turned over to his back, grinning up at him with those sea-storm eyes alight with mirth and triumph. And Crowley wanted nothing more than to fuck that pretty look right off his pretty face. “Does this mean you concede to our terms, Crowley?”

He was fully prepared to do just that: it was a loss, there was no sense in denying it. His angel played him like a fiddle. “I concede, Aziraphale,” Crowley admitted with a dark, dark look in his eyes.

Yet Crowley wanted to howl in victory the moment Aziraphale miracled the rest of his clothes off and spread his legs. “Let’s get a wiggle on, then.”

Crowley was upon him in an instant, cock aching and hard against his lover’s entrance. “You clever, cruel, angel—” he moaned, slicking himself with the wetness between his lover’s folds. “My angel, my clever, cruel angel—”

Aziraphale wriggled and thrashed, hooking a leg over his demon to get him closer, to get the head of his cock to fill him where he needed it. “Ah—ah, yes!” He squealed as Crowley grounded his cock over his labia, over his clit. “Yours, darling,” he sighed in half-exasperation, half-relief. “Frustratingly, yours.”

His angel gave a wanton cry as Crowley bit down on his ever-sensitive neck. “Giving me exactly what I want and still making me lose, hm?” he growled against his ear. “Well, hate to break it to you, love, but thissss,” he hissed as he finally—finally sank inside Aziraphale’s hot cunt. “Doesn’t exactly make me feel like a sore loser.”

“Fuck—Ah!”

It was one of the few times Crowley heard Aziraphale curse out loud. Apparently the first time it had happened, he hadn’t been there—but he savored the rare occasion, nevertheless.

Right now, however, nothing else seemed to register in his mind other than the primal, feral, animalistic thoughts of Hot. Tight. Mine. Crowley surged forward, filling his angel to the brim and nearly losing his damned mind when Aziraphale clenched maddeningly around him and felt a gush of wetness spill from his pussy followed by an ecstatic cry.

He looked down to the thoroughly mortified look on his lover’s face but Crowley merely grinned, his ego thoroughly stroked in the heat of his lover’s tight walls. “Poor thing, came just from me putting it in?” Crowley then set forth a brutal, punishing rhythm, pumping into that sweet, sweet cunt, watching with lust-filled eyes at the pretty, utterly ruined look that belonged on his angel’s face as he held him down and fucked him like he was meant for it. “Oh darling, I hope you’re ready for more—” Aziraphale wailed again, oversensitive and absolutely out of his mind with pleasure. “So much more,” he purred, the frantic rhythm of his hips threatening to push Aziraphale over the edge again.

He bit and bruised his lover’s flesh, saving sweet, tender kisses for his angel’s mouth in-between the cries and moans spilling from them.

This bloody wager—this bloody wager had him depriving himself from fucking his lover, from taking and debauching this uppity, prim, bastard love of his life. And what did his angel do? He’d gone and incorrectly marked himself just to goad Crowley into doing all the work of putting a proper sigil on him.

Go—Sata—Someone-damnit, he loved him.

But if this was meant to be a consummation—then his angel needed to put his effort in it too. With that, Crowley snapped his finger and the pair found themselves back to Crowley’s bed.

(Just where his angel belonged.)

Without pulling out from that delicious, addicting heat, he brought Aziraphale forward while he himself fell on his back. “Ride me,” he growled out, nearly losing himself as his angel flushed a lovely shade of rose and began experimentally raising and dropping his hips.

Fuck, Crowley was right—his angel looked best painted in the dark hues of dusk, all heavenly twilight shrouded in shades of carnal desire and sensual shadows. Crowley gripped at the sheets as Aziraphale bounced on the generous cock his demon gifted him with more confidence, tilting his head back and letting pants and moans drip from his kiss-reddened mouth as he began to chase his own pleasure.

Crowley watched on with lust-hazed eyes at the gorgeous sight his angel made, frantically foregoing rhythm as desperation nipped at his heels, eyeing the lewd image of where his lover’s pussy swallowed him to the base of his cock again and again. He fucked himself so very enthusiastically, little gasps and whines filling the air and the demon felt a flash of heat overtake him before mercifully deciding to “help” his lover along.

“A-ah! Crowley!”

And by “help,” he meant matching his lover’s sloppy rhythm and angling his thrusts to reach even deeper.

“That’s it, angel,” Crowley growled out, grabbing onto his ample hips to keep him going at the same pace. “You can hold on for just a little while long, can’t you love?”

“I—oh, please, I can’t—” More piteous mewls as his darling angel’s hips slowed instead, grinding and rubbing his tight walls while fully seated on Crowley’s cock, so endearingly close to completion and too oversensitized to drive himself over the edge.

Crowley wouldn’t dare admit that it took a literal miracle to stave off cumming at the sight and feel of his lover, so wet and hot around him, his bites and bruises littering his angel’s holy flesh, and begging so deliciously for Crowley to take care of him. But if his spoilt angel wanted to cum, Crowley felt the sadistic need to see his precious love work for it.

(All right, so maybe Crowley was a bit of a sore loser.)

A little bit more “encouraging” with firm swats to his fat bottom finally got Aziraphale matching his pace, his cunt tightening lusciously as his hips stuttered to maintain rhythm. Crowley grinned, something dark and wild in the turn of his lips and the flash of his teeth that sent an aweing mix of pride and shame burning across the angel’s cheeks.

“That’s it, you’re doing so well, you look so fucking lovely like thissss, let me savor it, darling, let me watch you work yourself on my cock,” Crowley purred, expertly toying and teasing his angel with filthy, filthy praise that he knew Aziraphale so ached to hear.

But from the piteous cries that followed, the quivering of his lover’s thighs, and especially at the way Aziraphale slumped forward and on top of Crowley, his insatiable angel was cumming again, losing himself with another fantastic cry.

Aziraphale had a gasp or two of breath before he was flipped over onto all fours, Crowley draping himself over his back. He bit back a whine as Crowley pulled out, his own slick dribbling down between his legs and feeling himself miserably empty before he felt that hard Effort rubbing against the rim of his asshole. Aziraphale instinctively pressed back, desperate to get his lover’s cock in him again. He knew Crowley hadn’t cum yet, knew that his demon was going to draw out his orgasm and make Aziraphale wait to feel his cum spill deep inside him. He just didn’t know if Crowley was intending to make Aziraphale beg or if this was simply his demon’s consolation prize.

His lover did love depriving himself so…

“Impatient thing,” Crowley cooed, slicking up his fingers with Aziraphale’s own juices. He pressed a finger inside past the tight ring of muscle and savored the gasp that followed as he played with his lover’s prostate. “Give me that chubby little cock of yours, angel. I love your pretty cunt, don’t get me wrong,” he had the absolute pleasure of deflowering his angel yet again with it, after all, “but I want a nice, thick Effort to play with while I fuck you.”

His angel whimpered, knowing full well he’d be embarrassingly hard and wouldn’t last long with Crowley so keen on tormenting him like this. But nevertheless, he did as he was told—

It was quite impossible for him to do otherwise, after all.

“Yesss, that’s it, love,” he murmured, pumping another finger into his angel’s tight heat. His grin grew wider as he eyed the heavy cock from between Aziraphale’s plump thighs and rewarded his darling with a few generous strokes, earning himself some sweet, keening noises in return. “There we go, such a good angel for me.” He played with the pearling tip as he worked his lover loose, a flash of want pooling at his cock at how hard his lover had gotten already.

After working a third finger, nudging them against the little spot inside his angel’s arse that made such precious little cries spill from his mouth, the taut tethers of Crowely’s control began to fray and snap—

Especially at the way his angel started fucking himself against his fingers.

“Easy now, love,” he hissed, eyes dark with want as he withdrew his fingers and trained his gaze to the mockery of his sigil. He should be proud, he knew. His angel was a devious little thing and didn’t mind playing dirty to get what he wanted. Sweet, naïve Aziraphale, walking to a parlour and asking for a damned tramp stamp of his lover’s tattoo just above that lovely, lovely arse of his. All to wickedly entice his demon to fuck that imitation right off his skin and mark him the way he deserved to be marked.

Crowley shivered with delight, his lubed cock (miracles were so very useful, weren’t they?) positively dripping as he pressed the head inside. And at the familiar, lovely feel of that his angel’s walls hugging his cock, the last thread snapped as Crowley slammed all the way inside.

Aziraphale a long, wanton cry as his arms gave out from beneath him, hardly able to brace himself with his bottom in the air as Crowley brutally fucked into him, white-hot flashes of pleasure running down his how body and making his cock drip at every savage thrust and every cruel stroke to his cock.

At the back of his mind, Crowley knew he should congratulate himself for reducing his lingual, loud lover to nothing more than moans, whimpers, and adorable little monosyllables that pieced together his name. But at that moment, all he could think about was making up for twenty days of going without fucking his lover until he saw the very stars he created dancing before his own eyes; twenty days of going without sending his angel to the brink of ecstasy and watching with swelling pride and love at how thoroughly he’d ruined him; twenty days of going without spilling deep inside his lover, marking the angel as his both inside and out.

And now—

Crowley chuckled, eyes gleaming as anticipation and love crested through the haze of lust and hunger.

Now, he was going to give his angel just what he asked for.

He made sure to stroke his angel in time with his thrusts sending him to the precipice of completion. Oh, he could feel it. Could feel it in his lover’s trembles, the pitches in his cries, and the tightening of his walls around him.

He leaned over his lover, hissing into his ear, “Are you ready, angel? Are you ready to surrender yourself to me? You’ll be mine for eternity, Aziraphale.” Crowley bit down on his shoulder to the point of almost drawing blood as exhilaration roiled in his veins. “There’s no escaping me now.”

Aziraphale gave a breathless chuckle, finding his voice between gasps and sharp cries. “Silly serpent…I’ve been yours from the Beginning.” He turned back, sea-storm eyes bright and full of love—soft, beautiful, perfect love— gazing back at him. “And I’m not going anywhere. Not without you.”

No miracle in existence could have stopped Crowley from cumming at that very second.

It was a good thing that it Aziraphale likely didn’t notice—not with the way he screamed in completion as Crowley’s sigil burned and bound itself into his very essence—his very existence.

Crowley let out a moan, hips stuttering as he continued to fill his lover, and, as a bone-deep happiness dizzily danced down his veins, he and Aziraphale collapsed into a sated heap together. He kissed and worshipped every inch of skin he could get a hold of, something warm that ached wonderfully rooting itself in his chest as Aziraphale smiled and laughed and held him close. When Crowley had softened, he pulled out and carefully laid them down side by side, his hands soothing over where his mark was branded at the small of his angel’s back.

“Well…how is it?” his angel asked after a few moments collecting himself.

“Lovely,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to his angel’s forehead. “Absolutely perfect.”

“Oh?” his angel chuckled.

“Yessss,” he hissed out, almost giddy with pride. “It suits you quite well, if I do say so myself.”

“I’m glad,” his angel murmured, post-orgasmic high keeping him cuddly and contented in Crowley’s arms.

The demon basked in it, absentmindedly humming in agreement as he curled impossibly closer to his angel. His warm, soft angel.

“I’m hoping you feel the same way about that ensemble I’ve selected for you.”

Crowley opened one bleary eye to half-glare at his angel, but found that he couldn’t even muster up a flicker of irritation. Not at the stupidly smug grin on his angel’s face that Crowley wanted to smother with a kiss.

And realizing that he could do just that, he did.

=-=-=-=

“I hate children.”

“You do not,” Aziraphale chided. “We took care of one for nearly six years.”

“I hated him, too,” Crowley muttered as he settled down onto the chair next to his angel. “Mister demon, why are you dressed like my gran’s armchair? The little—”

“Crowley, he’s twelve—” Aziraphale rolled his eyes, biting back a laugh at his morose companion. “Buck up, my dear. At that age, the pinnacle of dress involves a solid colored tee shirt with some…sort of bebop on it.”

Yeah, and even they know this garb is outright atrocious, angel, he thought. Good lord he looked like he’d just gotten fired from his job as a librarian. Or maybe like he’d stepped out of the Tardis. But, as per agreement, he wore the monstrosity without complaint and maybe even with pride.

It wasn’t hard to do, certainly not with Aziraphale beaming happily at him as they greeted the anti-apocalypse brigade for their one-year anniversary—err, well, belated anniversary. Had to reschedule since the two occult/ethereal beings who stood by Adam’s side went mysteriously missing for a few months.

“So, what kept you two?” the medium asked from across the tea table with a twinkle in her eye.

“Oh—well, we were just enjoying our newfound freedom from, ah, corporate,” Aziraphale said. It was Crowley’s turn to beam with pride. His angel’s gotten better at fibbing—or bending the truth, as it were.

“Oh, that must be nice!” the nervous human—Salamander or something—supplied. “Been a good honeymoon, eh?”

Crowley will absolutely deny ever snickering at the way his angel gripped the teacup so tightly, the handle snapped right in two.

“Yes, very lovely! Congratulations you two!” the book-girl added, smile widening the redder Aziraphale became. “Oh, don’t be so shy—it’s written all over you!”

“Written? W-written where?” his angel squeaked.

And just because Crowley was not a nice demon, he leaned down, murmuring to Aziraphale’ ear, “Oh you know exactly where, angel.”

His bastard of an angel jabbed him with his elbow in retaliation. “Hush, Crowley.”

“I mean, the matching plaid—"

“Tartan,” his lover sniffed.

“And maybe the fact that you two arrived arm-in-arm?” the book-girl raised a brow.

”And the fact that ye’ve been trailing after the southern pansy like a starved mutt,” the (soon-to-be dead) witch-hunter muttered under his breath, with a pointed look at the demon.

Crowley scoffed, waiting for the inevitable waffling that usually came about, but to his—pleasant—surprise, found Aziraphale replying with: “Erm, well yes. We ah, both are—romantically involved, thank you for pointing that out.”

And something—

Something tremendous, terrifying, and terribly beautiful blossomed in Crowley’s chest at that. Crowley didn’t know how long he just sat there, mouth agape and staring blankly at his angel who continued to squirm uncomfortably but answering honestly, but when he mentally came-to, he looked down to the little tartan bowtie his angel was so fond of and looked over on his own garish attire.

Huh.

Really, if this was his angel’s own way of marking Crowley as his—wearing their love and relationship with beaming pride on his demon’s literal sleeves—then Crowley figured he could stand to wear the tartan.

Love it, even.

Marking went both ways, after all.

----------------

So tl;dr: Crowley lost but Aziraphale got a tramp stamp of his sigil anyways. Because that’s true love.

Of note, age and body habitus can affect how people perceive pain. So while getting a tramp stamp may be less painful than getting a tattoo on an area like the temple like Crowley (aka a place where it’s directly overlaying bone), I also imagine Aziraphale not very used to bodily pain (at least not the fun kind of pain) and he probably bruises like a peach.

Also, because Crowley didn’t win their little wager, he didn’t get to put his sigil on his angel’s “delicious arse.” He had to make do with a sigil tramp stamp instead.

tagging: @top-crowley-central <3

#good omens #ineffable husbands #ineffable partners #crowley x aziraphale

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wanna-b-poet31 · 5 years

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A Mini Meta: What’s In A Name? (1.5/?)

So Like, I do a bunch of research for my metas and in pursuit of this one, I’ve had to learn wayyyy too much about each character’s name and meanings/origins. But because there’s no real place for me to put them in my planned metas, and I still have all this information to info-dump, here it is! A master list of all the character’s >probable< meanings. Consider this a Mini-Meta.

Find Part 1 Here: (X)

Our Ineffable Duo

Aziraphale:

Note: Azrael, a possible interpretation of his name, means “one who God helps” and is often attributed to the Angel of Death.

Anthony J. Crowley:

The elephant in the room with Crowley is “Crawley” and all I’m going to say about it is that Crowley’s right, it’s too “crawling on the ground-y sounding”.

Anthony, on the other hand, means “of inestimable worth”, which I feel is a good balance to his deadname. Crowley deserves this and every ego boost. Someone give him a hug.

The name “Crowley”’s meaning is at most Gaelic for heroic, although from a demonic standpoint, there is also no one-for-one model. There is an Aleister Crowley but he’s a real person who is known as the “evilest man to ever live” or some such moniker. But there is no connection between the demon and the person. I’d even argue that by giving himself a “J” Crowley puts distance between himself and Aleister.

Note: Although Supernatural also sports a “Crowley” character, Good Omens predates the TV-Show and so no connection can honestly be made.

The Them

Adam Young:

Adam’s name has many significant implications beyond just sharing it with the first man and first person to leave Eden. However, I would be remiss if I didn’t tell ya’ll that in Akkadian, the word stems from the word “Adamu” which translates to “to make”. And I find this phenomenally relevant to his naming and unnaming powers.

Pippin “Pepper” Moonchild:

I have SOOOO much to say about the implications of nicknames, but for this mini-meta, I’ll just leave you with this: Pippin loosely means foreigner, and while that doesn’t really connect with her character much, neither does the name Pippin so I feel that works.

Pepper, however, simply means “berry”, but I think on a much more literal level the name “Pepper” refers to her firey and passionate sensibilities.

Brian I-Couldn’t-Find-A-Last-Name:

Brian loosely means “noble one” and given he’s ready to throw down against even his best friend if it meant saving the world and standing up to an all-powerful 11-year-old with immeasurable supernatural abilities with a crow-bar. I’d call that pretty noble.

Jeremy Wensleydale:

This name took an outrageous amount to time for me to research. I’m not touching Jeremy, because literally, no one calls him it, it has no power over him. Wensleydale, however, refers to a real place in England, apparently, they’re known for their cheeses. Here, “dale” refers to a town and “Wensley” is valley named after the god “Woden” AKA Odin, AKA Norse god of wisdom and culture and war. Which Idk how closely he’s related to Odin, I do think the wisdom and class resonate with Wensleydale’s character. Of all the Them, he’s the most bookish, and most overt with his love of books.

The Angels

Michael:

Literally means “Who is like God” in Hebrew, and is the only named Archangel in the Bible. I find it interesting that this name is meant to be a rhetorical question, meaning no one is like God. However, Heaven clearly has, let’s say, ignored this question and ruled as if they are God.

Gabriel:

God’s Messanger, whose name means “God is my strength”, which, I think he takes to an extreme. Yes, he clearly gets his power from his belief God has ordained a war he will win, but more than that, he also seems convinced that all of his >abusive< actions are blessed by God, despite the series making it very clear, she isn’t talking to anyone.

Uriel:

“God is My Light”. Like Gabriel, I find this name infinitely amusing because yes, Uriel has a fiery personality like Pepper, short-tempered, and ready for a fight, little they do is actually from the mouth of God. Uriel is also closely associated with Noah’s Ark, reportedly being the angel who warns Noah and his family of the impending flood. Although we can’t know if they did or did not question killing the kids like Crowley and Aziraphale did, as it wasn’t on screen, based on their other actions, I’m gonna say no.

Sandalphon:

Note: It’s interesting that his name is wholly dependent on the existence of “brothers” and implies he serves as a mirroring character...of whom idk yet.

Metatron:

Although MANY theologians have argued over the meaning of this name, the most popular definition means “beside the throne”, and refers to the person next to God’s Throne. This works well as he is shown to be the mediator between God’s word and the Angels. This is less good because he clearly hasn’t talked to, or isn’t willing to let others talk to God.

The Demons

Ligur:

So, Ligur is not a canonical demon. Consequently, his name has no set meaning. He’s not a “real” demon with a 1-for-1 equivalent floating through Hell. My best guess is that it’s a reference to a Chuthulu Mythological Race “Lloigor” which is known for being invisible, but when they do show themselves, are distinctly reptilic. Which, I think vibes well with the chameleon on top of his head.

Hastur:

Note: A strict etymological breakdown of the name is associated with “chaos” and is meant to denote one who revels in destruction for destruction’s sake. It’s also very fitting for Hastur, given his desire to cause fiery chaos. Like Metatron, there are many interpretations you can find here: (x).

Beelzebub:

Note: Beelzebub is a real demon with a fascinating mythos you can read more about here (x). Seriously, ya’ll I have a million citations, please hmu if you want more info.

Note 2: Also! Also! Also, Beezlebub makes an appearance in Lovecraftian stories and Chuthulu mythos.

Dagon:

Note: Dagon makes a few appearances in Lovecraft’s work...there’s a short story called “Dagon”... and while they’re often not included in the Chuthulu mythos, the short story “Dagon” is the first to introduce Chuthulu-like elements...so? #canon in my eyes.

The Humans

Anathema Device:

Anathema is pretty straight forward. The name refers to someone who is detested or shunned. But more Bible-related-y Anathema refers either to something that was consecrated or to someone denounced as evil or accursed and therefore set aside for sacrificial offering. Which, is pretty much the role of Anathema. Her family has chosen to sacrifice her and her freedom in exchange to stop the end of the world. While I wouldn’t call her evil or cursed, she is definitely detested (as a witch) by the Witchfinders and Adultery Pulsifer.

Agnes Nutter:

Alternatively: Agnes Sampson was a Scottish healer and purported witch known as the "Wise Wife of Keith". Sampson was burned in the North Berwick witch trials.

Alternatively: Agnes Waterhouse was the first person executed for witchcraft in England (1566). However, she was hanged, not burned like Sampson and Nutter.

Newton Pulsifer:

Like the character himself, Newton’s name is pretty unremarkable. It means “New Town”. Not much depth to his name. However, a “Newt” does have some religious imagery attached to its name. It supposedly symbolizes rebirth and renewal, which flows with his character arc.

Madame Tracy:

Tracy refers to “Warrior” and can sometimes mean “superior to” and “more powerful”. All of these seem to fit with a woman willing to share her body with an Angel and stand at the end of the world without flinching. Also, she clearly overrode Aziraphale’s choice to shoot a child and refused to do something she couldn’t and wouldn’t do. she’s a badass.

Shadwell:

Shadwell means a shallow spring, but it is also a place in West London. Given Shadwell’s naming strategies I’d actually not be too surprised if he just named himself after a street name he saw. He’s not too creative.

Warlock Dowling:

Warlock means “Deceiver” and like if that’s not his life story. Through no real fault of his own, he spends the first 11 years of his life as the prophecized Anti-Christ by Heaven, Hell, and our ineffable Duo. I suppose you could say he deceived them, but really, I think it’s hilariously on the nose as he’s the not-Anti-Christ.

Harriet Dowling:

Harriet is of French origin, and means “estate ruler” and as the diplomat’s wife, I think it’s fair to say she rules the huge estate we see in the series.

Thaddeus Dowling:

Thaddeus is likely Greek meaning “heart” and surprisingly (maybe only to me) in the Gospel of Matthew, appears as one of the apostles, although later in the Gospel the name “Jude” is also mentioned, and likely is referencing the same person.

Sister Mary Loquacious:

“Mary” often translates to beloved or rebellious, while Loquacious refers to “talkative” which, man. I kinda love it, because she’s one of the characters who not only talks alot (relative to her short time on-screen) but also is a sweetheart.

Diedre Young:

Diedre is a young Gaelic princess who died of a broken heart, although its etymology could also just mean “young girl”. Little is relevant to the larger arching story.

Arthur Young:

“Arthur” is Celtic for King, and legends from the round table (and some references from Ep. 3) aside, little about his name seems relevant to the story.

#good omens #Ineffable Husbands #the them #go #gomens #good omens meta #gomens meta #mini meta #anathema device #anthony janthony crowley #crowley #aziraphale

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proofthatihaveaheart · 4 years

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end of year 2019 recs

this was meant to be posted two months ago and then it got buried in my drafts and i forgot that it existed while i started a new fic rec list for the first quarter of this year oops

[1 Borderlands, 1 Good Omens, 1 Life is Strange, 1 Marvel, 1 She-Ra, 9 Steven Universe, 1 Tangled, 1 The Adventure Zone, 1 The Last of Us, 2 The Umbrella Academy]

Borderlands

Burn Out by snufflyphoenix (VH1 gang, 5k): As Mordecai and Brick prepare to ship out to Athenas as the Crimson Raiders' B Team with Not So Tiny Tina, Lilith worries about their safety and starts to wonder how she's going to manage without them now she's gotten so used to them always being with her again. She contemplates their relationship; how it's changed since when they first met and how they're going to manage going forwards with the world turned upside down again. [This fic balances tenderness and comfort and grief so well while capturing the dynamics between these characters and I just really love it.]

Good Omens

Choose Your Faces Wisely by Poetry (Aziraphale/Crowley, 5k): In a world where humans wear their souls on the outside, Crowley and Aziraphale learn to make their own. [Daemon AU! It’s well-written with lots of references, cool concepts about the daemons of supernatural beings, and strong character moments.]

Life is Strange

migratory animals by swapcats (Chloe/Max, 11k): “Here,” you say, tossing the photo her way. “Check it out. Blackwell was insane for kicking me out, right?”You give her your best grin. It’s not very good, but she’s not looking, anyway. She twists the photo in her hands, turns it upright, and does nothing but blink at it.For a moment, you’re scared she’s going to fall in. Not because it’s a photo -- it isn’t even of her, isn’t more than a few hours in the past -- but because you’re more convinced than terrified that she’s just going to up and vanish. If it’s not time-bullshit, then it’ll be her having enough of putting up with your bullshit; she’s got her family out there, over in Seattle, and you’ve got a beat up truck and a few thousand dollars to your name. [Road trip fic! Full of pining and a careful exploration of their traumas and healing, it serves as a perfect epilogue to their adventure]

Marvel

dance, dance (we’re falling apart to half-time) by gleesquid (Gwen/MJ, 4k): “We were going to go dancing. Peter and I, I mean. We could still go. You and me, that is, it’s not like we need Peter to dance, or any boys at all, and he’s not very good anyways –,”“Gwen Stacy,” Mary Jane said and Gwen faltered at the sound of her own name on foreign lips. “It’s like you read my mind.”Or: Gwen and MJ will always be each other's favorite dance partner. [A perfect fic about Gwen and MJ’s growing friendship and feelings, with lots of dancing thrown in. The build-up is fantastic and it’s romantic and it’s very much them.]

She-ra

I Can Make You Stronger by inkubusmb (Glimmer, 7k): "You can really make me that powerful?""You think of yourself only as a princess, but you're the child of a great sorcerer. You have a more powerful connection to magic then you've ever realized. Let me show you."Shadow Weaver couldn't be trusted. Glimmer knew that.But after losing her mother, she knew she had to get stronger. Strong enough to protect her friends from the same fate. Strong enough to destroy the Horde.And Shadow Weaver was the only one who could give her that power. [A neat character study of something that very well might happen in s4 - Glimmer learning magic from Shadow Weaver.]

Steven Universe

Before We Turn to Dust by Mintly (Ruby/Sapphire, 6k): Their days were dirt roads and endless blue sky. It would be freedom, except it wasn't. Sapphire is a quiet country storefront and Ruby dreams. [Human!AU set in a small rural town. The writing is beautiful, the relationship and yearning between Sapphire and Ruby comes through clearly, and the atmosphere shines. It’s really good and even if you’re not a human AU fan, you should check it out.]

Cleave by susan_voight, thingswithwings (Ruby/Sapphire, 8k): “Tell me a story,” Steven asks, as he shuts his eyes. Garnet, as far as she has the capacity for it, is surprised; Steven is seventeen, and while he still has a tendency towards whimsy, he hasn’t asked for this particular indulgence for years. Not since he was a lot smaller. Garnet feels a little angry at herself for not having noticed that earlier; she feels regretful, too, that she can never seem to see any part of Steven’s adulthood coming in advance. [Garnet tells Steven a story about Ruby and Sapphire and the time they had to separate for a mission. It’s absolutely lovely, a great study of their relationship and how they grow to be even stronger.]

Little Rebellions by CompletelyDifferent (gen, 58k): Not all Pearls have the chance to run off to another planet and take up arms. Not all fights are grand and romantic. These are the little rebellions- little, but just as defiant. [A wonderful set of interconnected one-shots centered around themes of rebellion and freedom. And all the good world-building! I loved them all.]

Only Human by mllelaurel (gen, 23k): When a malfunctioning artifact temporarily (they hope!) turns them all human, the Gems must face down a monster infestation, while dealing with the loss of their normal powers and their own sudden fragility. [This very much reads like a multi-episode arc and it’s absolutely delightful. The insecurities and vulnerabilities the Gems struggle with are ones that are always there, but they’ve been magnified and brought to the surface with their human state and it’s just really well-done.]

Pushing By Like Hearts by mautadite (Lapis/Peridot, 13k): “Sounds like you’re really counting on that road trip magic.”(Peridot and Lapis do Midway City, and Empire City, and Plateau Ville, and all the places in between.) [Peridot and Lapis go on a road trip and it’s wonderful. Love the imagery, the development of their relationship, and the characterization.]

starwalker’s birthday by the_sockpuppet (Pearl/Garnet, 11k): Garnet wonders if she is Rose’s replacement. Pearl wonders how Garnet could love her. [I love this fic and the way it navigates their relationship and all the insecurities they bring along to it. The focus is very much on communication and being open and working through things, and it’s very good.]

the meek shall inherit the earth by Ushio (Pearl gen, 958): "Where was her Pearl?" asks Blue Zircon. Well. She was holding the sword. [Even though this was supremely jossed, it makes for a good, poetic read.]

Waltz of the Nian by QuickYoke (Lapis/Peridot, 6k): Lapis doesn't understand fusion at heart, but she does know she's an unideal partner for it. Set after the season 3 finale. [A character study of Lapis and her relationship to fusion, and the moments when Lapis almost fuses with Peridot. It’s well-written and it handles the subject of trauma + navigating boundaries and intimacy beautifully.]

where we love is home by possibilityleft (Pearl/Garnet, 532): "You're looking at me differently now," Garnet says.Slight Pearl/Garnet. Post-regeneration for them both, Garnet and Pearl have a discussion. [Early rebellion days, a short conversation that holds a lot inside it.]

Tangled the Series

strings by pathygen (Cassandra-centric, 19k): The weight of the stone should be concerning, but it’s not. She’s never been unfamiliar with weight. [This fic is a fascinating exploration of what could happen with the Moonstone and the ghost. It’s also a fascinating story of becoming lost in your own anger and insecurity, how that can twist you and make you someone you’re not. It’s dark and painful and I read it in one sitting because I couldn’t tear myself away from what was going on. It’s also a slow build to the final confrontation, which is stunning and one of my favorite moments in any fics I’ve read this year.]

The Adventure Zone

tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow by fishycorvid (Taako-centric, 28k): The funeral of one of the birds should have more attendants than this, some part of Taako thinks. But Magnus hadn’t wanted that, of course; he’d told Taako as much decades ago, just a few years after the Day of Story and Song. Taako had laughed then, told him he’d regret it when there weren’t any adoring fans weeping and tossing flowers into his grave. Taako isn’t laughing now, here in this clearing with the body that used to be his friend. (What comes after the end.) [As you might expect from the summary and warning about character death,this fic is painful. You will cry and your heart will hurt. But it’s also very well-written and a beautiful exploration of grief and having to live on and how sometimes things don’t work. Sometimes you pretend you’re fine but you’re not, you’re on a self-destructive spiral. That said, it’s also juxtaposed with some really lovely moments between Taako and his family, his friends. Highly recommend!]

The Last of Us

landscape by januarys (gen, 854): It's the moments that define who they are, the spaces in between, and as the seasons fade into one. [A lovely stream of moments over the course of the game between Joel and Ellie.]

The Umbrella Academy

Keep Trying by pprfaith (Vanya & Klaus, 8k): At thirteen, a drunk Klaus goes wandering the mansion instead of locking himself into his room. Seventeen years down the line, he saves the world. In between, they're all just trying not to drown. (Klaus and Vanya against the world.) [This fic is lovely and healing and imagines a different world where things are still messed up because Reginald is the worst dad but there’s also support and comfort and learning how to trust.]

Try Again by pprfaith (gen, 57k): They have outlived their father. They've managed to fix themselves. A little. Sort of. So from here on out, things should be peachy, right? [The Hargreeves get the healing and recovery they deserve, lots of good sibling dynamics, confronting what Reginald did to them, I really love this fic.]

#monthly fic recs #fic recs

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scintillating-galaxias · 5 years

Text

give ‘em hell, darling

Chapter Four—Step 3

The Plan begins to fall apart.

(Read it here on ao3!)

Aziraphale’s cell was empty aside from him for what felt like days. Months, maybe, or just an hour. However much time had passed; all he could think about through it all was Earth. He’d told Crowley—oh, how he missed his one true friend!—to give them Hell, but he was not-so-secretly hoping he wasn’t making too large of a mess of the place. There was only one London, after all. Or perhaps, without Aziraphale to anchor him to one spot, Crowley was roaming about the Earth, causing as much chaos as he desired. If this was the case, then Aziraphale rectified the previous statement to now say, “There was only one Earth, after all.”

He’d taken to pacing around the perimeter to take his mind off of his worries. Occasionally, bouts of frustration and anger, at Uriel, at himself, at all of Heaven, rendered him motionless and stiff with fury and he had to remind himself, Crowley was waiting for him. He had promised to come back; therefore, he would come back.

Easy, angel, he’d probably say, and a spike of loneliness drove through Aziraphale’s gut, and off he would go worrying all over again, and off he would go pacing all over again.

This cycle went on for a long, long time.

Eventually, Aziraphale had memorized the number of paces it took to circle the room, had recited multiple of his favorite books to himself to stave off his restlessness, even tried his hand at sleeping, which only brought him shadowy, vague dreams of voices calling out to him behind endless curtains, and so he did not attempt it a second time. He tried not to think too much about Earth lest he be consumed by nostalgia and a bone-deep yearning for home.

Finally, he stopped to stare down at his feet. No one was coming for him. And though he was confident he would escape, he did not know when exactly that would be. He looked to the sigils on the walls. He had little personal use for them aside from the communication portal in his shop. Most of what he remembered about them was from the Early Days. No human book on Earth had the correct directions to create a real, working sigil, so he had no way to brush up on something he’d learned eight thousand years ago.

But that was no real concern. Aziraphale, if a somewhat lousy angel, was still devastatingly intelligent. He deemed no part of his life unnecessary and did not discard a single minute. He stored away every single day in a box-shaped memory and placed them in what was essentially a cubbyhole in his mind, waiting to be taken down and reopened again. All that was left was a relatively simple task of walking himself all the way down to the beginning.

He did that, and sure enough, he found the times he had had that knowledge sewn into his being. And then it was clear the sigils had a lot of threatening decorative flair to them, but otherwise were basic holding and repression sigils designed to prevent him from using his powers. One was made to reinforce the walls in case he—what, punched his way out? Either way, their meanings were not shocking in any capacity, but having a basic understanding made the sigils a whole lot less threatening. It was a bit like seeing an unnerving shape in the dark that is vaguely humanoid, but when one gathered the courage to shine a light on it, it ended up being a tree stump or an oddly shaped rock.

Aziraphale had just relaxed when his ears popped rather painfully.

“How’s this place been treating you?”

Aziraphale felt like a switch had been flipped. One moment a current of cautious optimism buoyed him, the next he was desperately struggling to keep himself from screaming.

“Gabriel,” he said coldly, refusing to turn around, “to what do I owe the honor?”

He heard Gabriel grin. “What do you think?” Footsteps came closer to him, dulled and weakened by the nature of the room. “I made it myself.”

Aziraphale tightened his jaw and finally turned to meet Gabriel’s falsely sunny smile. “What do you want, Gabriel. You’re not here for pleasantries.”

The smile slid right off of Gabriel’s face. In its place, an unfriendly scowl soured his handsome visage. “You need to do us a favor,” he said, clipped.

“Do I now?” Aziraphale twiddled his thumbs. “I do apologize, but you caught me at a bad time. I’m quite busy at the moment.”

“No, you aren’t.”

“Oh, but I am. I’m reading, you see.”

“What?”

“These sigils—they’re quite well done, is all,” Aziraphale replied chipperly. “I doubt you have a scrap of artistic prowess, so pass on my appreciation to dear Michael, but they’re fascinating to look at. Really.”

Gabriel’s violet eyes darkened to a nasty bruise-purple. “Enough with the chit chat. Either you can listen to me, or you can be left here to die.” He spread his hands. “It’s an obvious choice to me, but”—he sucked in a breath his teeth—“between you and me, you make a lot of stupid decisions.”

The dangerously powerful temptation to tell Gabriel to stuff it up his arse was mighty, but through the sort of class maintained through diligence forged in himself over the centuries, Aziraphale resisted. Crowley would be disappointed. Perhaps another time.

He warily side-eyed Gabriel, then carefully asked, “What do you want from me?”

“Advice.”

Aziraphale had opened his mouth furiously, and now it snapped shut with a clack of his teeth. “Come again?”

“The new agents we have been sending to Earth in your place are, hm. Struggling,” he said tersely, as though each word physically pained him to say. “The Council would appreciate some insight.”

Inwardly, Aziraphale sighed in relief. At least his foresight had been correct up to this point. Another angel had indeed been sent down to replace him. Multiple angels, if he’d heard correctly.

“If you don’t mind me ask—what sort of struggles are you encountering?”

“Earth has not been—how should I say this—welcoming.”

“I understand that. What exactly is happening that has forced you to come to me?”

“It’s just not working out.”

Good Lord. Aziraphale closed his eyes for a few seconds, inhaled deeply, and then reopened them.

“I’m afraid I’m not following.” Aziraphale raised his eyebrows conspiratively. “Perhaps you could show me?”

Aziraphale had precisely zero hope of that working. However, Gabriel appeared to be at his (very short) wit’s end and sharply jerked his wrist. Aziraphale felt a swooping sensation one would feel when driving down a sharp downgrade in the road, only throughout his whole body. It took him a few seconds to reorient himself and straighten out his coat; his wrists had not yet been freed from their cuffs. When he finished, he looked up.

Before him were the three other Archangels, Uriel, Michael, and Sandalphon, and one angel Aziraphale did not recognize. They were all standing in front of the massive globe of the Earth, muttering furtively. The tension weighing down the air was almost palpable.

Michael caught sight of him, and briskly made her way towards him. “Why is this happening,” she demanded. Aziraphale blinked impassively.

“Gabriel did not inform me of details,” he said honestly. “What appears to be the problem?”

He studied the other angel, who was studiously not looking at him. They’d probably been in the crowd that day, and it showed: their posture was impossibly stiff, as though someone had fused his spine with a metal pole, and their breast was puffed out like it was the bow of a foolhardy ship ready to crash its way through any storm-tossed sea, yet their flinty gray eyes practically frothed with apprehension.

“Let us play a small game,” said Sandalphon. His head was gleaming with sweat, which worried Aziraphale because if an Archangel was sweating when they typically do not even have sweat glands, something was tremendously wrong. “Principality Aziraphale, I would like you to guess how many angels we have sent down to Earth since you were sentenced to imprisonment.”

Aziraphale hesitated. “That depends. How long was I imprisoned?”

They told him.

“A year?” Aziraphale felt his heart drop right down to his shoes. But that—He’d meant to come back much sooner! How could he have spent a year pacing around in that jail cell!

“One Earth year,” confirmed Sandalphon. “Now. Do you have a guess?”

Aziraphale tried to run some numbers through his scrambled mind.

Obviously, they’d picked out one angel already. He could only assume something had happened to that one, but when exactly, he could only speculate. He recalled one other time when another angel who was not, surprisingly, any of the Archangels, had come to deliver a message to him. They had been crushed flat by a horse carriage. If that was the sort of “unwelcome” receival Gabriel mentioned—no, that time must have been a fluke—

“Erm? I-I’m not sure. Forty? Thirty. It must be less, yes? No?” Aziraphale caught Sandalphon’s positively murderous expression. “Oh, dear.”

“One hundred and forty-five,” he said flatly. “One hundred and forty-five angels in the past year either were discorporated or turned in their resignation within two weeks. The singular outlier made it two months before provoking the demon Crowley and ultimately discorporated after a short skirmish.”

Aziraphale frowned. That didn’t sound right, either. Although Crowley boasted of blending his plants in his garbage disposal when the misbehaved to invoke fear, Crowley also happened to be an extraordinarily shoddy liar when it came to Aziraphale. Crowley did not kill unless absolutely necessary. He didn’t want the children to die at the Ark, and he didn’t want to kill the Antichrist. If one were to ask, ‘What about the holy water? And the Nazi’s?’ that whole debacle with Ligur and the holy water had left Crowley shaken and extremely skittish around clear liquids for months. And the Nazis were Nazis. That should be explanation enough.

“May I ask what happened?” Aziraphale asked doubtfully.

Sandalphon sighed and miracled a clipboard overstuffed with papers into existence. With another tedious sigh, he flicked back to about halfway through the stack and read, “The angel Asteroth was deployed to London on the twelfth of August, 2018. One month and eight days into her deployment, she attempted to enter a bookshop—your bookshop,” he amended, sneering, “where the demon Crowley was found to be lying in wait. She drew her holy blade to dispose of him, but, according to her, as she was doing so, it struck an old bookshelf and, quote, ‘seriously up the books.’ The demon appeared upset and told her, ‘He’s going to eviscerate you for that. Best if I do it,’ before dropping a modified paperweight on her head and breaking her neck.”

Aziraphale, who had a brilliant surge of fondness for Crowley rush through him like a tidal wave—had he been staying at the bookshop all this time?—coughed to avoid a sharp burst of laughter.

“That is… unfortunate,” he said as sincerely as he could. And absolutely bloody hysterical. Not that Aziraphale found the discorporation of any angel funny, but for all the fuss Heaven made and torment they put him through by making him the unholy beacon of Heaven, they had no clue how to properly go about Earth (and Crowley) without the one angel who knew better. It was like building a railroad that ended directly off a cliff.

“Indeed,” Michael said gravely. “Our corporeal form department has not seen this much work since the Heavenly War.”

The new angel now appeared to be regretting accepting whatever exactly it was that Michael told them.

Aziraphale regained control of himself. “So, erm… what exactly do you want me to do about it?”

“We want you to oversee our performances and tell us exactly what we are doing wrong,” said Gabriel. “There’s absolutely no reason this should be happening.”

“I see.”

“Observe,” said Sandalphon, gesturing to where Uriel and Michael were speaking to the new angel.

“You’ve made the necessary preparations, Arael?” Uriel was saying.

“Yes,” firmly replied the angel. “I’ve insured my etiquette is inoffensive, my human body as neutral as possible, and I read the brochure on London’s Do’s and Don’ts.” They furrowed their brow. “It was… interesting.”

“Excellent,” said Michael. “I’m sure your arrival will be… better received.”

Aziraphale bit back a scathing exclamation. If their Earth 101 course was one long, convoluted lesson that could be summarized as “be nice”, it was no wonder why everything was going so poorly!

“Is that all?” he asked against his better judgment. “Are those the ‘preparations’ you’ve given to every single one of those angels?”

Uriel and Michael turned to him. Michael raised her eyebrows. “Is it incorrect?” she said.

He gestured distraughtly the best he could with the way his wrists are bound together. “Humans are much more than just saying nice things to them! They are complicated creatures—”

“It won’t present any issues,” said Arael such overblown confidence, Aziraphale could not stop the roll of his eyes. “I will guide them back to the right path if they choose to display ignorance and hate.”

“No! They don’t like that either!” Aziraphale exclaimed. “You won’t find a single Londoner who’ll take a minute out of his day to listen for someone to lecture—”

“I’m the one being dispatched,” snapped Arael. “You were the one strayed too far from Her path. I know what I’m doing.”

Aziraphale scoffed. “You are the one hundred and forty-sixth angel. Please enlighten me; what makes you think you’re so different from the other one hundred and forty-five?”

“You’re both being childish,” interrupted Michael. “We’re wasting time. Who knows what waste that demon lays while we stand around here and argue? We must get on with it.”

Gabriel placed an unfriendly hand on Arael’s padded shoulder. “Well? Off you go, then.”

“Of course.” Arael nodded stiffly, touched the globe, and was whisked away in a cloud of gray.

“And now we wait,” said Gabriel with a strained grin.

“For what—”

A bolt of lightning silenced him, and Arael reappeared on the ground in a bleeding heap.

“That,” said Uriel.

“Erm,” said Aziraphale.

“Arael.” Michael somehow encapsulated the tone of motherly patience that was barely holding its ground in its losing battle against the fury of a thousand suns in that one word. “It has been exactly nine Earth seconds since your deployment to Earth.”

“It’s so much worse than we thought,” mumbled poor Arael, shivering.

Aziraphale knelt down and helped their shaking heavenly form to their feet, murmuring, “Up you go, excellent, just like that…” The other Archangels did not move an inch, choosing instead to click their tongues and look disappointed.

“They’re everywhere,” continued Arael in a haunted tone. They listed dangerously, and Aziraphale hastily righted them while attempting to repress the bleeding. The Archangels shared a look betwixt themselves. “I can’t—I can’t do it. I was discorporated within ten steps.”

“Would you mind telling us what happened?” asked Gabriel with a very plasticky look of concern. “For future references, I’m sure you’d understand.”

“You can’t send another down there!” gasped Arael, and alright, maybe they were being a tad overdramatic. Discorporation was uncomfortable at best, and certainly not permanent. Arael merely had an unfortunate first-time.

“We must. Evil will not rest on its own unless Good is there to stop it,” said Michael. Aziraphale chose not to mention the time Crowley was asleep for a whole century.

Arael bled and swayed for a few more seconds before speaking. “Everywhere I looked, there were great metal beasts with two glowing eyes on the front.” They shuddered. “And they all had four black, round legs that don’t move like any of God’s creature’s should. They spun. They weren’t mentioned in the briefing I was given. I stepped off of the sidewalk, and one immediately charged me. It must have been a new breed of demon,” they concluded.

Ah. Aziraphale immediately understood what had happened and had to stifle a chuckle as the bewilderment growing between the Archangels sky-rocketed. He wasn’t quiet enough and was awarded a particularly nasty look from Michael.

“Poor thing,” she said, pulling Arael none too gently away from Aziraphale. She waved her fingers, and the swaying and stumbling stopped. Another wave and the wounds vanished, as well as the blood. Arael straightened themselves, dazed. Then their face turned glowed—literally—pink in humiliation.

“I—I need to file a report for a new body,” they stammered, rapidly backing away. “If, if you’ll excuse me, of course.”

“Before you go,” cut in Michael. “Tell us, what did this particular demon look like?”

“A 2016 Ford Fiesta,” said Arael, and they hurried away.

The remaining angels stared at Arael’s retreating back until Uriel coughed awkwardly. “That was a new record for shortest visit to Earth.”

“What in Heaven is a ‘Ford Fiesta?’” asked Sandalphon.

“I will pick a few more angels from our queue,” Michael said hurriedly, and she vanished in a flash.

Gabriel turned and caught Aziraphale’s shoulder in a vice grip. “That,” he said, squeezing painfully, “has been happening every. Single. Time. What are we doing wrong? Tell us.”

“What do I know?” said Aziraphale pleasantly, ignoring the growing pressure. “Arael was correct, after all. I’m not fit for the job.”

Gabriel glowered at him, his eyes blazing with a fury that begged to be released and only reined in after Aziraphale was laid to rest. Aziraphale smiled amicably, then squeaked as a knife jabbed into his chin.

“You’re going to do it,” growled Uriel. “Or you’re never going to see your boyfriend again.”

“Ooh, very good Uriel!” said Gabriel, clapping his hands delightedly. “That was—very nice. Now then. Aziraphale.” He smiled thinly. “You will be delivering the briefings. Tell them everything they need to know before they go and get themselves killed again. If we don’t see results, we’ll have to intervene.”

Aziraphale tilted his chin up to spare some distance between his flesh and the tip of the blade. “And if I refuse? You don’t have anyone else like me.”

“You get to go back to your cell for the rest of time. We’ll figure the rest out eventually.”

Incredible. He was being offered quite the variety of choices, wasn’t he. “Fine. I suppose I am forced to accept. Under the conditions”—he caught Gabriel’s glare and hardened his own gaze—“that I am not kept in that cell. I will not attempt to escape to Earth—”

“You can’t, anyway. You’re bound here by the First Laws.”

Ah. That somewhat dampened Aziraphale’s spirits, but at least it was information. He carefully stored it away and made a note to review those laws later. “I see. And the other condition is to have my cuffs removed. I can’t go anywhere anyhow, and they’re serving to be demeaning at this point.”

Uriel and Gabriel shared a dubious look, but it was Sandalphon who cut in. “We accept your current conditions. Is there anything else?”

Aziraphale kept fluttering bubbles of joy tamped down. He knew he could not push it any further, but it felt like a step in the right direction, a step closer to home; a step closer to Crowley.

“No,” he said primly. “That will be all.”

With a reluctant snap of their fingers, Uriel vanished the cuffs. A deep ache of relief spread down as Aziraphale’s spine as his wings were finally allowed to unwind after a year. He flapped them in their plane of existence, wincing as he felt the bones click and pop in complaint. “Thank you.” He cleared his throat. “I accept your offer. I will try to assist to the best of my ability, but I must note that there are no guarantees.”

“Results,” Gabriel insisted. “Something better than nine seconds.”

“I believe I can manage that,” Aziraphale said lightly. “I cannot tell them everything about human cultures from the past six-thousand some years. Humans are complex and wonderfully diverse creatures, and you cannot expect the same things from every single one—”

“It’s not us you should be talking to.” Tremors began to rumble from Aziraphale’s shoes to up his legs. “It’s them.”

He turned just as Michael rounded the corner with at least fifty other angels in tow of all ages and ranks. Some angels who didn’t look a day over twenty walked with one massive, willowy seraph who was bringing up the rear, which Aziraphale could not help but be extremely confused about. They were all chattering excitedly, but upon seeing Aziraphale, they unanimously silenced themselves and stared blankly.

“Erm,” said Aziraphale. “Hello.”

A few of them murmured back, “Good day,” and one even managed a, “Hi.”

Aziraphale smiled encouragingly at the unsure shuffling and side-eyes. “I suppose we’ll make this our first lesson, hm? Does that sound okay? Lovely. Most humans would appreciate a response, a ‘hi,’ ‘hello,’ ‘how do you do,’ even if you”—he bobbed his head once—“simply nod. Now. Let us try that again. Hello!”

All at once, fifty angels cried, “Hello!” so loudly, the glass window nearby developed a crack. It was shocked by this development, and, believing itself to be fatally wounded, fell apart.

Aziraphale blinked once, and then very quietly sighed, “Oh, dear.”

It looked like he had his work cut out for him.

#good omens #good omens fanfic #aziraphale #uriel #sandalphon #gabriel (good omens)#michael (good omens)#the archange #angel oc's #my writing #gehd

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