#Good Omens Fanfic

[goodomensafterdark]

Writers Guild Presents - Tethered - Ch 7 - Memories

Big thank you to @gleafer for accepting to let me use this piece as illustration to this chapter! Go support her on Patreon -we promise that your loins will catch on FIRE ;)

Written by NegotiationReal6508 on our subreddit!

Chapter 7 of work in progress

TW/CW: Angst, Discussion of attempted suicide, implied character death, panic attack, some light smut.

Summary:

Crowley wakes up in a mental hospital with no memory of how he got there. Without his demonic powers, neither the doctors, nor the people who claim to be his family will believe he is who he says he is. With the evidence against him mounting, his only lifeline to the real world is a cryptic note left by an unseen messenger. The longer he stays in this hospital, the harder it becomes to recall for sure, is Crowley really a demon of Hell? Or has his entire existence been nothing more than a delusion conjured by a grieving mind?

Excerpt:

Crowley stood in a noisy airport at the arrivals gate holding a bouquet of red roses, fidgeting nervously. All of his usual laidback swagger was buried under a blanket of anxiety, his spine was a solid metal rod. He was always a little bouncy when Aziraphale came to visit, but this time was different. Crowley hopped his feet up and down like the floor was burning hot sand. He juggled the little box in his jacket pocket as he stared at the sliding glass doors, willing the familiar head of blond hair to appear through them. Were the roses too cliché? Maybe he should have gotten the peonies instead. Too late now.

“There, I see him.” Crowley turned to the young man beside him. “Are you recording?”

“Yeah, it's on,” said Adam.

“Right, here he comes.” Crowley shook out his shoulders and trilled his lips. He knew he looked ridiculous, but it was an airport; no one ever looked their best at an airport. He moved towards the beacon that was Aziraphale’s gleaming smile. His heart thudded like hoofbeats in his chest. Breathe, he reminded himself. Breathing and walking, those were the two main requirements at the moment. He had no idea what his facial expression was, he just hoped he was smiling too. God, Aziraphale was so gorgeous, even after eight hours on a plane. How was that even possible?

“Hello, my darling!” Aziraphale greeted him.

“Hi,” said Crowley, because that was about as eloquent as he could manage. He unceremoniously handed the bouquet to Aziraphale.

“Oh my!” Aziraphale chuckled. “Flowers? What's the occasion?”

And there was Crowley’s opening. Aziraphale was reaching out his arms for an embrace but Crowley needed to do what he came to do first. He bent down on one knee, and pulled the little box from his pocket.

Continue reading on AO3

Or start from chapter 1 - Dies Lunae

Special thanks to my beautiful betas: u/KotiasCamorra, u/Paperclip_Ninja

[onceuponapuffin]

Fanatic Intervention Part 7!!!

Beginning|| Previous || Next

It will not surprise you at all, dear Reader, to learn that Aziraphale keeps very little in his kitchen cupboards. There is no stove or oven, and the only thing in the fridge is milk (for his tea no doubt). When you start opening cupboards, you find one pack of custard creams, and a second one of chocolate digestives. Well, it will have to do. You find yourself a small plate and fill it half and half before heading back into the shop just in time to say goodbye to Anathema and Newt.

As they leave, you turn to the supernatural entities in the room.

“So,” You say, “If we’re going to the States, then we have a few problems. First, I don’t have my passport or any ID at all, so airport security is going to be fun. Second, I have no money. Third, I’m gonna need a Walmart or something because I don’t even have a toothbrush, my dudes. Fourth, these,” You indicate the cookies, “are fine for a snack, but overall they’re not gonna cut it.”

“You just leave the airport security to us,” Aziraphale replies. You make a note that he glided right past ‘my dudes,’ they’re getting used to you already. Dammit. “As for the rest of it,” Aziraphale continues, “I suppose a trip to Tesco’s is in order.”

Crowley produces a shiny black credit card from nowhere and hands it to you. “We’ll take the Bentley,” he says. He starts to stand, but you shake your head.

“Nuh-uh, you both stay here,” You say. Crowley raises his eyebrow.

“You realize we can take care of ourselves,” he says, “We’ve been doing it for a few millennia.”

“I’m not talking about that,” You say, “Look, what we’re going into is really dangerous. And I know that your pattern is to just wait to talk about things until you’re in the clear, but that’s not a good idea anymore. I mean, I get that I’m not exactly an expert, but I read just as much as you do and I’ve heard a million stories by this point in my life, and in NONE of them do people ever say ‘I’m so glad I never told them how I feel’ - you know? It’s always ‘I wish I would have’ or ‘I should have told them every day.’ So Muriel and I will go ask Maggie to take us to Tesco, and you two need to talk. Please. While it’s safe, while you have the chance, before things get dangerous and possibly deadly.”

Crowley and Aziraphale are silent. You notice that they aren’t looking at each other. Well, you’ve done your best. Now you need to trust them.

At this point, dear Reader, you are probably thinking to yourself ‘well I would snoop and spy on them while they talk! I want to watch them make out!’ But here is the thing – in this world they are real people, not characters. It’s one thing to say that you would creep on them from the other side of this fiction, but when they’re very real and looking at you in person, things are a little different. For one thing, you realize that real people deserve things like boundaries and privacy, especially for sensitive conversations.

And so, you take Muriel over to Maggie’s shop, where you explain that Mr. Fell has sent the two of you on an errand and you need to stop for dinner somewhere and have no idea where anything is. You flash her the credit card and say ‘It’s all on me,’ and she conveniently agrees with a look on her face that says something like ‘least they could do after all that shit they put us through.’

So the three of you go for dinner at the nearest Weatherspoons, where you and Maggie eat while Muriel watches in morbid fascination. Then you all take the bus to Tesco where you buy yourself a small wardrobe, and manage to coax Muriel into some light blue jeans and an argyle jumper so they look a little less like the Beacon of Gondor. You quickly find out that Muriel has an adorable fascination with fuzzy socks, novelty mugs, and coloured pencils. Of course, you enable their fascinations with a happy heart, and as an afterthought, you grab them a small pot of orange daisies from the flower section. It will give them something alive to tend to while you’re gone. Muriel appreciates the thought. All in all, it’s a long but good time.

You don’t know about the talk, and you’re worried about asking when you get back.

THAT BEING SAID

You and I, dear Reader, not actually being in that world, are allowed certain privileges.

The bookshop is silent for a long time. Both of them are thinking, digesting, processing. Feelings are hard to feel, and harder to put into words. Especially when it has been made clear, twice now in the span of a number of hours, that you absolutely need to put them into words.

It isn’t until after Crowley notices you, Muriel, and Maggie heading down the street that he stands up and begins to pace. A few more minutes pass before he speaks.

“So...uhm...are you going to go first or should I?”

“Are we...are we actually going to do this? Have this talk I mean?” Aziraphale has been shelving books to try and take the edge off. Now he puts down the book in his hands and absent-mindedly fidgets with his ring.

“Well, I mean we don’t have to,” Crowley says, aiming for non-chalance and missing ever-so-slightly, “No one can actually make us.”

“Yes, except it feels very much like everyone is trying to.”

“Trying is the key word there.”

“That’s true enough I suppose.”

The silence returns and stretches. It is anything but comfortable. The air is full of words that they have been told they should say, words that perhaps they want to say, but words that have been dammed up with fear and uncertainty for so long now that they’ve become very hard to un-stick. After a while, Aziraphale clears his throat and speaks.

“I, erm, I suppose you had better go first.”

“Me, right, okay.” Crowley clears his throat now and stops his pacing near the desk. He looks down at the scattered papers and books, the pens and photos and newspaper clippings. The assorted clutter of Aziraphale’s life. Looking away makes it easier to start. He takes a breath. “Um..right...well...we’ve known each other a long time. We’ve been on this planet a long time – you and me, I mean. I’ve always been able to rely on you, and you’ve always relied on me,” another breath, “We’re a team, yeah? A group of the two of us. And...erm...we pretend that we aren’t. Always have. Safer that way I guess.” He looks up at Aziraphale. The angel isn’t looking at him, but he nods anyway to show that he’s listening. Crowley continues. “And I mean...I’ve tried not to think about it much before but...but it would be nice, I mean, UGH” He takes off his sunglasses and rubs a hand over his eyes as though he can massage the words and make them easier to say. “I mean, I would like to spend...mmm….I would like to spend the rest not pretending anymore. Be an us. I mean,” suddenly the dam breaks, and Crowley finds the words come tumbling out, “If Gabriel and Beelzebub can do it, we can. We don’t need Heaven or Hell, they’re both toxic. We can be an us, on our side. You and me. What do you say?” He looks at Aziraphale without reservation now. His angel looks back at him, eyes wide. When he does speak, it’s with a smile and a small nod of acknowledgment rather than agreement.

“That was very well done Crowley,” he says. This isn’t an answer.

“Nnyeah, thanks. Your turn though.”

“Right, I suppose it is.” Aziraphale takes a moment to gather himself. After hearing Crowley be so open about this, he feels more resolved himself to do this properly. He faces Crowley and folds his hands to keep himself grounded. “Crowley,” he begins, “I...I wish that this conversation were happening under better circumstances. Although it’s been pointed out that ideal circumstances aren’t a promise that we can wait around for. Well, the thing is that I would like the same thing. Very much in fact. My biggest concern by far is for your safety because, well, frankly I don’t see the point in saving the world again if you’re not around to enjoy it with me. An us, as you said. You and me.” He smiles. Crowley smiles.

“Guess we’d better save the world together then. And try not to die.”

“Yes, quite.”

“Aziraphale?”

“Yes, Crowley?”

“You’re my angel. No one else.”

“And you, my wiley serpent. No one else.”

The shop bell dings.

“We’re baaaaaack!” You sing as you waltz through the door, shopping bags in hand. Muriel follows after you, carefully carrying their daisies. “Did you miss us?”

When you eventually get the courage to ask them about their talk later, you get a “ngk” from Crowley, and a “We’ve said all that needs to be said, for now.” from Aziraphale. And that, you suppose, will have to do.

❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 🖤

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[ecoamerica]

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[feiandart]

"I am satisfied where it counts, Azriel." Aziraphale looks at him questioningly. Anthony presses his lips to his forehead. A kiss where it counts.

[eviebane]

Post-story ficlet of Flawless by @mrghostrat & @chernozemm

The pale band around Aziraphale’s finger had long faded when the letter arrived.

[bildadzine]

It's your old friend @ish7ar!

You can enjoy their art "Take a siesta" exclusively in our Shoemaking edition!

We're fundraising for RAINN and Safeline using a pay-what-you-like model. Which includes FREE if you need. Everyone deserves more Bildad! Please see more details at:

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[lavendermoonlitskies]

Fanfic Friday: fic recs!

Hiii everyone, happy Friday! I forgot that I made a post like this ages ago for fanfic Friday, but I’ve read a bunch since then so here are some recommendations of Good Omens fics I’ve enjoyed recently:

“Heaven isn't built to house a love like you and I” by ItsScottiesStark

Rating: T

Length: 37,291 (8 chapters)

Summary: They did it. They stopped Armageddon. They survived.

This was it, the first time they were actually free to finally figure out what their side entailed.

Aziraphale is a being of love. Always has been. And now, all the love he has for Crowley is free to flow from the edge of his fingertips to the demon's, in a gesture that could only mean one thing; I'm with you. I'm here.

As much as his hands itch to reach out for the love of his existence, his words seem to fail him, time and time again. He knows Crowley deserves more than gentle hand holding and forehead kisses in the dark. He aches to scream his love from the top of his lungs, for the whole world to hear. And the demon knows it.

And he waits. Because he'll wait forever for Aziraphale. Because he knows they are meant to be one.

This one is great at immediately grabbing your attention. It starts on the bus during that scene towards the end of season 1 where Aziraphale holds Crowley’s hand, which very smoothly leads in to this theme of physical contact and how although they’re both unfamiliar with it, it’s secretly something they both long for from the other. Without spoiling too much, they sort of subtly lean into this desire for physical affection in a way that’s incredibly sweet yet almost tragic with how hesitant they are at the start of it. You can tell that they want so desperately to let the other know how much they care, but they still don’t know if the other is on the same page (so “he waits. Because he’ll wait forever for Aziraphale.”). This writer is really great at conveying how much they really love each other, highly recommend!

“Twin Suns” by IneffableDoll

Rating: T

Length: 7,291 words (3 chapters)

Summary: “I thought you were gone,” Crowley mumbled, and it was almost cliché, it was almost the kind of sentimental rubbish he would’ve moaned at had he heard it from someone else. But they were the rawest words he could manage. He’d thought Aziraphale was gone. That was all, and it said everything.

***

Directly following their celebratory meal at the Ritz, Aziraphale and Crowley clash with the feelings that struggle to settle after everything they’ve been through. And, in so doing, learn to rely on and communicate with each other in new ways.

Similar in concept to the previous one I mentioned, this fic takes place after the events of season 1. They get into some real honest conversations (something I love reading in fics because the characters in canon are not at that point yet and I am HUNGRY for some emotional honesty from them), and something I really love about this one is how patient they are with each other. In chapter one Crowley says that he’s not ready for this conversation, and Aziraphale respects that. Without spoiling too much more, they’re both super careful with the other’s boundaries as they kind of start to think and talk more about the love they have for each other that they’ve never really gotten the chance to explore until now. I absolutely love how they take things nice and slow, attentive to how the other is feeling about all of this. This kind of love is a new concept for the both of them, but they wouldn’t want it with anyone else, and so they try. And I think that’s beautiful.

“Icebergs and Angels” by The_Bentley

Rating: T/M (two versions)

Length: 23,498/24,929 words (8 chapters each)

Summary: It's 1912 and Aziraphale, not wanting to be lonely during his mission aboard Titanic, invites Crowley along for a cruise. But he boards the ship before knowing exactly what his mission is. When he learns Heaven wants to teach humanity a lesson for the claim even God couldn't sink it, it could damage his relationship with Crowley, who has his own views on Heaven's need to punish innocents. Can he repair things with Crowley and can they work together to save as many lives as possible?

The concept of this one is so cool, and very much something I could see actually happening in the show as another historical flashback/mini-sode. Aziraphale is given a mission from Heaven that entails many humans losing their lives, he’s obviously not on-board with that, and Crowley is there to help him save as many human lives as possible because, as much as he’d hate to admit it, he really is a nice demon who very much disapproves of Heaven’s disregard for human life. Throughout this one you get to see how the two of them interact with the humans, all while Aziraphale is battling this inner conflict of wanting to just go along with Heaven’s orders without questioning it while simultaneously knowing that it’s wrong. The narration is great, beautifully written and I really felt like the writer understands these characters on a very deep level. There are two different versions of this one, both of which are fantastic. I personally felt that the more platonic/aroace approach to Aziraphale and Crowley’s relationship in the context of this particular story was more fitting, but if you’d like something a little spicier I thought that the Mature rated one was just as good! (I’m linking the non-spicy version here, but the link to the spicy one is in the summary!)

[gaiaseyes451]

A Little Life - Chapter 10 - Some of You

Rated: E, Words ~66k/~71k. 10/12 Chapters. Read the tags!

Chapter Excerpt (Read on AO3):

Ezra watched him and tried to take comfort in the fact that Anthony was enjoying himself. He didn’t know what timeline Anthony was in today, but it did not matter. Not really. The most Ezra asked for now was that Anthony was happy on whatever day he believed it to be. That he was safe in whatever time of his life he was reliving. That the reality his mind had settled in that morning was somewhere Anthony was glad to be.

For now, he was glad to be in St. James', feeding ducks, Ezra beside him.

That had to be enough.

*~*~*

Summary:

When Professor of Botany Anthony Crowley met bookshop owner Ezra Fell one November afternoon both knew their lives had irrevocably changed. From that moment forward, Anthony and Ezra’s existence was intertwined. Their story was written in the moments and memories they created as they moved through life’s chapters of coming together, building a family and facing the challenges of being human. This is a story of unconditional love and the joy and humour, obstacles and grief that inevitably come with choosing the same person, day after day, over and over and over again.

*~*~*

A huge thanks to @goodomensafterdark for the writers community. And an extra special thanks to @hakunahistata and @the-literal-kj for beta'ing this story. Finally, a huge thanks to @fuzzygoblin for the song prompt that inspired this work

[katiefrog217]

I'll probably make a proper post for this tomorrow, but for any of you looking to be held over until my next chapter:

Aziraphale and Crowley had had far too much to drink that night. “C’mon angel, let's dance.” The Demon gave Aziraphale a lopsided grin as he slid off his seat. FAR too much to drink.

I was writing a whole thing about non-sexual touch and then I accidently listened to I Wanna Be Your Slave and I Like the Way You Kiss Me and here we are I guess.

It's all still SFW but it would be incredibly easy to jump the line if I pushed it any harder lol.

[foolishlovers]

Could you do a collection of found family fic recs??? 👀 or maybe a rare pair collection??

here are some good omens found family fic recs:

An Angel's Wrath (or At Least He's Trying) by Mysti_Gayle (G, 1k) Adam hated knowing that he had caused them so much stress this evening, particularly Aziraphale, whom he greatly admired for his kindness. Now, he had felt like he had taken advantage of that, and the guilt crushed him.

Four-Letter Accusations by Pink_October_Bones (G, 1k) Warlock has a suspicion that Nanny might not be as loveless as she likes to claim.

Never Have I Ever (Been Myself) by FeralTuxedo (M, 28k) Aziraphale Fell, BAFTA-winning actor of stage and screen, is bored. Bored of playing middle-aged divorcees in dull BBC dramas. Bored of answering the same questions on chat shows and breakfast television. Bored of keeping the real him hidden away. So when the opportunity presents itself to collaborate with up-and-coming rock band Witching Hour, he takes it, against his own common sense and the condescending advice of his agent. Witching Hour’s mysterious guitarist Crowley, flame-haired, moody, and a good fifteen years his junior, certainly seems worth the risk. A human actor/rock star AU.

search terms by Vagabond (M, 43k) Aziraphale expects it to be a quiet night working in the university library when a flashy red haired, foul mouthed, panicking student needs to find credible sources for his paper and can't figure out how to use the search. Little does Aziraphale know that meeting Crowley will lead him on a path to self-discovery, and give him the family he didn't realize he needed.   From a prompt on tumblr: College AU - You’re REALLY GOOD at using the right search terms for the academic databases and I’m on a deadline.

Loving You Slow by TawnyOwl95 (E, 46k) Crowley just wants to dance, but he's not prepared to sell his soul (and other things) at Mayfair's Hellfire Club to do it. Tending bar at The Bookshop in Soho is just the escape he needs, providing Crowley can convince the club’s owner he really belongs on the stage. Unfortunately Aziraphale Eastgate is not quite the generous guardian angel Crowley has been led to believe. Welcome to The Bookshop, where it always pays to look under the covers.

It never hurts to keep looking for sunshine by Dervila, elf_on_the_shelf (E, 63k) After Adam's parents die in a car crash, Aziraphale is forced to start taking care of him as more than just an uncle. Don't get him wrong, he loves the little devil, it's just that he is completely clueless and could rather use some help. In comes Crowley, Adam's new nursery school teacher with his amazing skills in dealing with kids. Could he be the answer to all of Aziraphale's prayers - Adam-related and otherwise? Well, it looks like he might be just that, judging by the weird things Aziraphale's heart seems to be doing whenever he sets eyes on the man. Now, if only the tall ginger returned his feelings…

Golden Handcuffs by seekwill (E, 70k) Far from any city, near the Scottish coast, Tadfield College has a celebrated history, an unrivaled academic reputation, and two departments at war. When the Biology and English departments are forced to share a building, Senior Lecturer and botanist Anthony Crowley finds himself drawn into the orbit of the polite but strange English professor, Dr. Aziraphale Fell. As the new term begins, two academics navigate the politics of both their offices and academia, and try to solve the puzzle of one another.

Barriers, and the Breaking Thereof by Cardinal_Daughter (M, 71k) Ezra Fell has long been comfortable in his loneliness. He’s content to simply run the Soho Public Library and otherwise keep to himself. However, when a handsome stranger bursts in one evening with a baby, frantic and in need of help, Ezra finds those carefully constructed barriers he’s long maintained begin to crack. Perhaps it’s time to let them fall. Human AU. Complete.

The Sometimes Wife by AgentStannerShipper (E, 74k) It is a truth universally acknowledged that older brothers are the worst. As the youngest of three children, Parson Aziraphale Fell has been given an ultimatum: find a wife, or lose the family's support. The only problem? Aziraphale has never looked at a woman that way in his life. His attention has instead been captured by the family gardener, a beautiful young man who holds Aziraphale's heart in his hands. But when a mysterious newcomer arrives in the village, Aziraphale finds himself falling - quite unexpectedly - for her as well. Aziraphale knows he will have to choose. After all, it's not as if he can have both…can he?

What We Make of It (Shotgun Wedding) by charlottemadison (E, 213k) The important thing, Crowley tells himself -- the most important thing -- is Adam, his brilliant, creative, empathetic nephew. Being fourteen's hard enough; the kid didn't ask to deal with the weight of the world on top of it. And if taking care of Adam means Crowley has to tough it out at a job he can’t stand, so be it. And if Crowley's job means that Adam’s charming English teacher is NOT a romantic possibility, well, that's just how things go. But the occasional drink with Aziraphale proves hard to resist. They frequent the same pub, so who can object to them saying hello? Briefly sharing a table? Perhaps a little conversation? The painful knowledge that it can’t be anything more -- not without somebody getting fired or sued or both -- well, that can't be helped. Until Crowley stumbles onto a terribly reckless idea…

i also love writing found family fics myself:

The Anon Before Christmas by foolishlovers (E, 66k) When Crowley’s friend, blogging buddy and business partner Anathema announces her annual Secret Santa Exchange on Tumblr, she is very adamant Crowley should join this year. The old-fashioned (but admittedly compassionate) man he gets assigned to send anonymous messages to every day until Christmas sounds awfully similar to the fussy bookseller that his friends adore, yet Crowley tries to avoid at all costs. But surely his friends would have mentioned if Aziraphale had taken an interest in the Bad Omens fandom as well… right? Or: An Enemies to Lovers Secret Santa Tumblr AU.

Tales of Turning Pages by foolishlovers (E, 73k) Every Tuesday, aspiring romance novelist Anthony J. Crowley pays a visit to his local library and the charming angel working there. Every Tuesday, Aziraphale Fell finds himself more and more intrigued by the curious stranger who turns his orderly life as a small-town librarian upside down.

Wild Hearts by foolishlovers (E, 56k+, WIP) In the idyllic English countryside, far from the hustle and bustle of the big city, two teachers at Willowbrook Hall set out to transform their students’ lives through the world of theatre. But for Mr. Crowley, the challenge of navigating his long hidden feelings and dear friendship with Mr. Fell may prove to be the greatest drama of all.

[goodomensafterdark]

Feature Fic Fursday!

FFF - Feature Fic Fursday!

This is a special day of the week: fic recs Thursday (pronounced à la Française)!

Each week, we will browse the Good Omens After Dark official AO3 collection, choose a tag and promote the fics that are featured in it!

Have a tag idea for the next week? Comment it!

Have other fic recs, or your own fic would qualify for the tag? Reblog and throw in the link!

Tag of the week:

For WAMEN WEEK, I have chosen: all the 'She/her pronouns' tags present in the collection!

This includes:

‘She/her Pronouns for Crowley’

‘She/her Pronouns for Aziraphale’

‘She/her Pronouns for Beelzebub’

‘She/her Pronouns for Shax’

‘She/her Pronouns for Uriel’

‘She/her Pronouns for Nanny Ashtoreth’

Promotion time:

Queen Of Hell by OneDapperCat

Rating: Explicit

Genres: Angst, Angst/Fluff, Angst with a Happy Ending

Word count: 89,666 words

Chapter count: 33 chapters (completed)

CW: Minor discussion of prior non-con, minor gore, domestic violence

Summary: With Aziraphale on his way back to Heaven, and Crowley having been unable to tell him what he saw in Gabriel’s file about a new Armageddon, Crowley decides he needs to make a sacrifice to stop what is coming. He returns to Hell, planning to talk his way onto the Dark Council, but Satan has a different proposition.

Nanny Likes to Watch You Eat by Depressedpenguin2, a gift for DisastrousLook5116

Rating: Explicit

Genre: Plot What Plot

Word count: 1,464 words

Chapter count: one-shot

Summary: Sexy times between the Ineffable Wives. Food is involved.

Dance Our Night Away by Kotias

Rating: General Audiences

Genre: songfic (based on Frank Sinatra's 'Polka dots and Moonbeans')

Word count: 2,172 words

Chapter count: one-shot

Summary: 1944, 29th of February - leap year. Crowley and Aziraphale are invited to a ballroom dance party, and will dance- but angels don't dance, do they?

Snex on a Plane by FuzzyGoblin

Rating: Explicit

Genre: Plot What Plot

Word count: 1,855 words

Chapter count: one-shot

Summary: Aziraphale is feeling peckish and she prefers to do things the human way. On board a plane with a hidden stowaway, Aziraphale gets more than she bargained for on her quest for a decent meal.

Thou Shall Not by Depressedpenguin2

Rating: Explicit

Genre: Plot What Plot

Word count: 836 words

Chapter count: one-shot

Summary: Sexy time for Beelzebub and Gabriel -married couple, tentacles are involved.

Infernal Tango by isiaiowin

Rating: Explicit

Genre: A plot exists!

Word count: 7,691 words

Chapter count: one-shot

Summary: After Shax accidentally revealed to Furfur that she could dance the Tango, he planned a grand gesture to sweep her off her feet, resulting in a night of fiery passion.

The Stag and The Scale by isiaiowin

Rating: Mature

Genre: Romance

Word count: 29,679 words

Chapter count: 6 chapters (8 planned)

Summary: Ineffable games reach far and wide. Follow the Demon Furfur and his Angel Justice as memories of the past resurface while they try to find a way to be together. Heaven and Hell have other plans, so will this be their new beginning, or is it the beginning of the end?

Show You Something by whatareyou42

Rating: Explicit

Genre: Slow burn

Word count: 115,618 words

Chapter count: 24 chapters (completed)

Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley were spending time together one night and Crowley had an idea, something to show Aziraphale, mostly for laughs, or so he thinks. Could this be a key in helping them fix things after Aziraphale leaves for Heaven?

BYE LOSERZZZZZ

[onceuponapuffin]

Fanatic Intervention Part 8!!

I see your votes everyone, and I hear your voices. But before I can, in good conscience, place us in Heathrow, I need to share this with you.

Beginning|| Previous || Next

******************

In the end, convincing Aziraphale (who, surprise surprise, had never flown on a plane) that First Class was the way to go wasn’t all that hard.

“Otherwise you fly all cramped with hundreds of other people!” You say. Crowley nods.

“Mmmmm yes,” the demon agrees, “Imagine being elbow-to-elbow with all those humans. Feet in your face, children kicking the back of your seat, sharing an armrest!”

“I rather like humans though,” says Azirphale, even though he looks a little pale at the mention of armrests, “And I would be next to you anyway.”

“What about the humans who haven’t showered for days?” You ask, “How long has it been since the last time you were near one person, nevermind a hundred-ish, who didn’t follow basic hygiene practices? A few hundred years?”

Aziraphale’s face falls. Crowley chimes in.

“Oh yes, just imagine all the sweat and grease from the airport food.”

“And then there are the babies that travel. I mean, their ears pop when the plane takes off and when it lands, and they only really have one coping strategy.”

“Aaah,” Crowley says, “The crying babes! Think of all the crying babies and no escape! Not for hours and hours and hours.”

“And then,” You say, “There’s the in-flight meal.” Here, you seem to have struck a cord. Duh, you should have led with this. Aziraphale raises an eyebrow.

“Oh? They serve food?”

“Psh,” You say, “If you can call it that. They ask you if you want chicken or vegetarian, and then they plop a cardboard box with a film top in front of you.”

“It’s dreadful,” agrees Crowley, “All bland and clearly frozen and warmed up in a microwave.”

“And if you’re lucky, you can tell that it’s meant to be a sandwich,” You add.

“Supposing you can tell that it’s food at all!” Crowley says with a nod, “And their wine list is small potatoes.”

“Small bland potatoes,” You say, “If you can call them potatoes at all – served in the tiniest bottles and the tiniest glasses you ever did see.”

You noticed Aziraphale’s eye twitch ever so slightly.

“And in First Class they...they serve actual food and wine, do they?”

“Oh yeah,” You say, “with proper service and cloth napkins and everything. Most of the airline websites say that the food’s prepared by an actual chef.”

“And the glasses are normal sizes, and made of actual glass,” adds Crowley for good measure. Aziraphale hums.

“Yes, fine. Clearly First Class is the only acceptable way to travel.” He leaves the room. You hear the kettle turn on. He probably needs some tea to calm his nerves after hearing all that. You turn to Crowley.

“So you’ve gone on a plane before, huh? Did you invent the food? I would not be surprised if you did.”

“Me?” Crowley says, “Naaaah. Never flown on a plane. Never needed to. But I know a bit of fun when I see it.”

You look up at him and sigh, cradling your chin in your hands for effect.

“It really is no wonder why Aziraphale loves you so much.”

“Ngk,” Crowley says, his ears turning pink.

-----

And now, dear Reader, we arrive at Heathrow. Anathema and Newt had met you at the bookshop, and the four of you drove over together in the Bentley after bidding Newt and Muriel goodbye. You spend the entire wait in line at airport security feeling nervous. Airport security is always a test for your nerves to begin with, but this time you have no passport or paperwork of any kind to twiddle in your hands to take the edge off. Instead, you fidget relentlessly with the button in your pocket (Muriel, being an observant and kind soul, had given you a large-ish green button to put in your pocket “Because you seem nervous, and it looked like it helped you last time.” You swear if anyone harms your new best friend while you’re gone you will end them). The line goes quicker than you would like, and when it gets to be your turn, honestly you’re not sure what happens. It all goes smoothly. Did Aziraphale and Crowley miracle you a passport? Did they click a finger or wave a hand to convince the guard that everything was in order? You have no idea, because you’re too focused on your nerves and Trying Not To Look Suspicious While Worrying That This Makes You Look More Suspicious Than You Would If You Could Just Be Normal About This (if you know the feeling, you know why it gets to be capitalized like that).

Once the stress of airport security is done, you head to the bathroom for a break from the chaos so that you can figure out how to breathe again. Normally, you wouldn’t be That Person to occupy the Accessible Washroom, but since you are desperately trying not to have a panic attack because of all the pent-up anxiety from the whole airport security thing, you decide that you Really Cannot Do People Right Now, and that the single-occupant washroom may be your saving grace. You lock the door and sigh, leaning against the cold metal. It’s comparatively quiet here, and you’re grateful for it. Thank Someone. You resolve to try not to be too long in case someone who actually needs this washroom comes by (although I’m gonna be honest here, reader, right now you need this room for invisible accessibility/health reasons). After a minute or two, you are finally starting to feel your anxiety return to a manageable level. Everything is okay. You are traveling with the most ideal companions you could ever dream of, and the worst part is over. Everything from here on out is smooth sailing.

Except, dear reader, you all voted. And So It Shall Be.

You’ve just finished drying your hands.

“Aah,” says a voice behind you. You jump a solid 3 feet in the air. “I thought I might find you here.”

“HOLY! FUCKING! ZOMBIE! JESUS!!!” You sputter.

“Mind your manners, human.”

“Manners?? ME?? This is a WASHROOM.”

The Metatron looks at you blankly and shrugs. Ah yes, the biggest jerk in Heaven doesn’t know or care about washrooms or privacy. Or actually being polite.

“I merely wanted to have a word with you. Away from the others, of course.”

“Yeeeaaaaah,” You say. You’ve seen a million movies (approximate), and read a million books (also approximate), you know what this is. This is the maybe we can still solve this problem quietly plot. And you know that actually having the conversation is a bad idea. “I don’t think so.”

You reach for thee door. It’s locked, and it won’t unlock. Of course. You (gently) pound your head against the door, before turning to face Metatron. You take a breath, and answer as calmly as you can given how angry you are.

“What. Do you want?”

“I merely hoped that we could agree upon...an arrangement.”

“Pretty sure I made it clear back at the bookshop that I’m not letting you anywhere near them.”

“Oh dear, no. This has nothing to do with the demon or with Aziraphale. This is about you.”

You mentally brace yourself. Here comes the manipulation. You inwardly remind yourself of the tropes of villain manipulation and all the things you’ve ever shouted at the tv screen after one of these interactions. You need to be prepared, because apparently you need to play this out. And so, you give him the response he clearly wants.

“What about me?”

“Well, my dear, I only thought that perhaps you might like to go home.”

“Ha! Nice try.”

“You have no desire to return to your family? Your friends? Your life?”

“Not right now, thanks.”

“And you think you’ll get a similar offer later?”

“I mean...well yeah. I don’t know whether I would actually want to go back yet but --”

“You think Aziraphale and his associates will want to keep you as their pet forever? My dear, they only entertain you right now because you’re useful to them.”

Okay, I mean you knew that already but still. Ouch. Hearing it out loud is just...Ouch. Unfortunately, you do not have the Acting Prowess of either Michael Sheen or David Tennant, and so the Metatron sees the Ouch. He smiles kindly.

“Here, you are merely a tool,” he continues, voice smooth as honey, “And back home there are people who love you and value your presence in their lives. Back home there are people who miss you purely because you are you. Here, you are well, a convenience. A help. But that’s all. And once this is all over, there is no promise, no guarantee that you would be able to return. And no reason for Aziraphale to keep you. You would need to start again, and since you needed the help of an angel to get through airport security, I’m guessing that would be very difficult for you. And then, of course, there’s your immortal soul to be concerned about once the Final Judgment comes to pass.”

You ignore the bait, even though it stings. Take a breath. You’ve got this.

“That’s all irrelevant right now,” You say.

“Is it? It seems that you’re….what’s that charming human expression? Flying by the seat of your pants?” He chuckles at his own joke. You smile awkwardly. Well, yes you are, but the heroes in stories do all the time. They figure it out as they go. You are doing no worse than any of them. You don’t find the joke so funny. And frankly his laughter is unsettling.

“Um...” You start uncertainly, “Well if that’s all, then can I go now?”

“In a moment,” the Metatron says smugly. Oh you hate that he has so much control right now. “First I would like to extend to you the offer of some help. I would like to see you home safely, at a time of your choosing. Whenever you feel that you are ready.”

“And you have the power to do that, do you?” You’re skeptical.

“I have the power of all Creation at my disposal.”

“Riiiiight. Just out of the goodness of your own angelic heart. That’s very kind of you Metatron.” You’re not sure if he hears the edge of sarcasm. He shrugs regardless.

“There is of course, one and only one thing I would like from you if you decide to take my help.”

“Oooooof course there is. I’m not letting you near Aziraphale and Crowley.”

“Once again, my dear, this has nothing to do with them. All I would like is to know why your first instinct was to take that coffee. The full truth, mind you. None of that sarcasm or loophole nonsense that you humans are so fond of. And do not be foolish enough to think I can’t tell the difference.” He looks at you pointedly.

That’s...a suspiciously innocuous request. But then again, it usually is with these sort of things, isn’t it? You feign non-chalance and tap your foot for emphasis.

“Are you done yet?” You ask obstinately. The door unlocks audibly behind you.

“Just think about it,” says the Metatron, “No rush.”

Oh yes there is one. You rush to open the door. Never before have you felt so relieved to be in a crowded place.

Don't worry about airplane route logistics or whether or not you can actually get a direct flight from Heathrow to Orlando. Just vote for whatever you would like :)

❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 🖤

Beginning|| Previous || Next

[sixshotsinatumbllr]

Chapter Twelve of How to Pull an Angel: a Bunnings DIY Guide

I have been BUSTING to release this chapter. This is it, this is the big one.

It's time for Crowley to confess. About ALL THE THINGS. And he does it in the most chaotic way possible.

[plumbum-art]

@hibyefics and @plumbum-art proudly present

🚀🚀🚀

Launch Sequence

a M-rated prelude to the Relationship for Beginners series by @hibyefics

"It wasn't too much, though? Really?"

"Agh," said Crowley, butterflies still a riot in his belly. "I mean - yeah. Just takes some getting used to. The - spit.

[crowleys-hips]

things i headcanon Crowley invented:

only one sock disappearing in the washer/dryer. you know the one

youtube ads

gum on shoes

that one wobbly wheel on every shopping cart

you know when you're in traffic and one lane is going faster than the one you're in, so you switch to that one, but now this one's going slower than the other? that. it's one he often regrets.

back when wired earbuds were a thing - only one of them going bad

Nessie - an accident. he went swimming in his snake form once and someone took a blurry picture

unsynced audio or subtitles on media

pineapple on pizza - he did it to piss of Aziraphale

instagram poetry

pens/markers than run out of ink by the 3rd day (i'm looking at you Sharpies)

airplane food

the very common phenomenon when you forget your old password, go to reset it, and then get told your "new password can't be the same as your old password"

long red light/short green light

shower knobs that can't ever get the right temperature, it's either 3rd degree burns or hypothermia

crocs

feel free to add your ownnn

[gleafer]

HAVE AT THEE!

I’m working on a new comic for my Patreon/Gleafer (several, actually, so jump on in, the water is fiiiiine) and I’m STOKED about this era!

“A King and His Castle”

Alternate universe that initially starts canon and then swerved sharply off course into a chased-by-demons-in-a-cemetery hellscape and a laudanum fueled demon babbling confessions and curses the whole time.

Weekly updates starting end of the month!

[scottishmushroom]