#I need more Crowley being melodramatic

[hoarder-of-dragons]

Crowley *miming fainting*: Oh, the agony! Crowley: Days bled into weeks, then bled into years, leaving me stranded with naught but my own thoughts for company. I stumble through life without direction, a ship without a compass in a stormy sea. My heart, it's in tatters! Broken by the trials I've faced. I'm just a lost soul, drifting through the shadows of despai- Aziraphale: I HAVE GONE TO THE GROCERY STORE FOR 2 HOURS!!!

[mightbesmall]

Twisted Tsum-Tsum?!

Genre: Crack

Characters: Tsum.

Warnings: Tsum.

Summary: You wake up in a coffin that got burned, when you step out you see tiny burrito things???

Additional Note: Based of a post I saw on Tumblr.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was dark, really dark. You then saw light in the form of pathetic blue flames. You opted to kick the door, freeing yourself from your prison. 

"Now where am I?" You asked yourself looking around. 

"Squeak! Squeeeak!!" What was that annoying squeaking?? You looked left then right and eventually down. There was a weird grey burrito thing with blue-fiery cat ears, blue eyes and a pitch-forked tail.

"What. The. Fuck." 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After being chased (you walked) to the library by the weird creature, you met another burrito that you just decided to call a Tsum, this one was melodramatic and had that crow theme going on, it also whipped and tied up the grey one you think was called Grim? That was all you could understand from the squeaking. You think you were being lectured but you can't tell.

Now you were in front of some doors that were probably big for the Tsums but you had to crouch to not headbutt the ceiling. 

"SQUEEAAAKK!" Crowley -the crow Tsum- squeaked (that's all he can do tbh).

"Squee, Squeak." Said a red-haired Tsum who looked very polite. Crowley then turned and pointed a stubby paw? leg? at you saying, and I quote: "Squeeak, Squee. Squeaaak." You didn't know what he said but Grim got offended by it. He then pointed at a mirror. Using context clues, you walked up to the mirror.

"Squeak."

Inspiring. You understood that surprisingly.

"[Name]." Cue confused squeaking. You guess they Tsums' didn't understand why you weren't squeaking.

"...Squeak." Wow an ellipsis in bold, Brrr doesn't usually do that! The silence must've been loud then. 

"SQUEEEEEEAAAAKK!!!!" A chorus of annoying squeaking sounded out, was it that big of a deal to not have magic???

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"S-Squeeak!" Grim squeaked, though it sounded more like a wheeze.

”Squeaak.” The upside down Tsum, Lilia you think, floated down onto your table.

“Squeak!” He then exclaimed. You all looked over to the Diasomnia table only to see cute fierce glares being sent you way. You were absentmindedly patting Lilia on the head, he seemed to be enjoying it. Huh, maybe THAT’S why the green one looks like he wants to strangle you!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"SQUUEEEAAK! SQU-SQUEAAAAAKKK-" You picked up the overblotted Riddle.

"Hey, stop that." You said shaking him slightly as you stomped on the blot incarnate. The others, Ace, Deuce and Cater were clinging to your legs while Trey stood looking at Riddle with worry. Honestly this was probably a serious situation but you just couldn't help the amusement as Riddle nestled into your palms as he slept. 

"Squeak..?" You glanced down at Trey who looked concerned for his friend. You crouched down and patted his head to which he leaned into your touch.

"He's fine Trey, just resting." You have become more fluent in Tsum over the past few days.

When Riddle woke up, you obviously pampered him and he surprisingly didn't swat you away rather he leaned into it, which resulted in a jealous Ace yell-squeaking at Riddle about him apologising as Cater sneakily climbed onto your lap. The cuties.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

”Ruggie stop that snickering!” The little hyena was the one behind the ‘attacks’ and the one who injured Trey! He stuck his tiny tongue out and hopped away.

You strolled after him whilst ADeuce and Grim sped after. Ha suckers.

”Squeeak!” Ruggie said, an insightful conversation but please, there’s a flaming cat that demands tuna all day and you are broke as hell! You need the money dammit!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You stomped down on the inky lion whilst holding Leona by the scruff at arms length. You made sure the blot was dead before turning to the overgrown house cat.

"Bad cat. You could've killed Ruggie." You scolded as you held said hyena-Tsum close to your chest. Poor thing almost got turned to sand. He was trembling in your hold as you rubbed his head soothingly.

"Squeaaak." Was the lions lazy, drawled reply though he did sound remorseful. Rugged just looks away with a little squeak. Seems he hasn’t forgiven him yet.

”Well he hasn’t forgiven you Leona but perhaps with some-“ You cut yourself of due to the fact that the lazy lion has wriggled out of your grasp and is now sleeping on your palm.

“Oh you are sooo lucky you are cute.” You sat down on the floor and immediately Ace and Grim started fighting to crawl into your lap. Cater once again beat the lot and snuggled into your thigh, Deuce soon followed and was laying on your other thigh looking up at you. You nodded your head and Deuce cheerfully squeaked and nestled in his spot. 

“You guys are so fucking cute I can’t-“

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

”Wow this is a museum?” You said, staring at the underwater Atlantica something. 

“Squeak!” Ace huffed/squeaked. He was still bitter about the sea anemone on his head, which is fair but it was his fault in the first place.

You then heard distant squeaking… and was that… BOSS MUSIC??? Turns out it was just the Leech twins who turned out to not be leeches but moray eels. Interesting but you could still beat them in a fight, your height is the advantage here.

“Squeeak, squeakk!” Floyd was explaining why these guys suck and his Unique Magic. Nice.

”Squeeak.” Jade was kinda disappointed but he was proud how great Floyd’s magic was today.

”SQUEEAK!” Jack yelled, you all then retreated. You could just go in and grab the picture but then you might get tied down by tiny ropes or something, you don’t want to be poked and prodded by tiny spears!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

”Shhh shhh… it’s alright baby!” You cooed at Azul who was crying and overblotting. You once again, stomped on the blot monster in favour of comforting the poor unfortunate Tsum. You could relate to him, you also got shamed for your looks quite a bit (this is Brrr projecting-) so you only want to help the poor baby! You pulled him to your chest and started singing some gibberish, these guys can’t understand it anyways (You also didn’t understand it).

”Hyamanmaa Gyahuhahhh Labadabadeee!” You sounded fucking amazing, The Voice has never seen this much talent before.

Azul calmed down from the crying so you sat down, Cater wasn’t here so Ace saw the perfect opportunity… only to be beaten by Floyd AND DEUCE- 

Floyd napped aggressively peacefully on your shoulder whilst Deuce once again rested on your thigh. Ace was going to loose his fucking mind! Before you patted you other thigh while looking at him, he smirked triumphantly and waddled over… only for Jade to curl up there and Grim take your other shoulder. HE IS GOING TO KILL SOMEBODY PLEASE JUST LET HIM SLEEP ON THE GIANTS THIGH MY GOD! 

You picked him up by the back of his shirt and put him on your head, Leona and Ruggie then also joined the cuddle pile, pushing Deuce over for room on your thigh. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ha bye bitch!” You waved Crowley goodbye, he still can’t understand you so he thought you were being nice to your oh so gracious Headmaster. You weren’t.

”Squeak? (Should we tell him?)” Deuce asked. 

“Squee. (No it’s funnier this way.)” Ace responded.

Eventually all the students and faculty, minus you, the ocean mafia and Grim, have left for the holidays.

You made your way back to Ramshackle with Grim after waving bye to your boys to sleep for like 100 years. Briar Rose who?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

”Cmon, stop that.” You once again stomped down another overblot, at this point your legs are getting toned. Jamil was held in your palm, he was wriggling a little trying to escape but of course that was not in question. 

“If you don’t stop moving I will drop you.” He was thrashing now. You held him tighter (not too tight don’t worry) and started patting and stroking his head and spine. He instantly melted into your touch so you guess he had never been pampered or dare I say it… have the baby girl treatment. So you sat down as usual and massaged, patted and cuddled Jamil. He looked a lot better already.

Kalim jumped onto your thigh, peeking up at Jamil asking if he was okay.

”He’s fine Kalim, just sleeping.” You say as you pat his head as well. Floyd and Jade once again snuggled onto your thighs, having to share this time as Kalim was on one already, as Grim took your shoulder and Azul just stood there awkwardly. 

“C’mere Azul!” You say as he slowly hopped over and took his place next to the sun himself, Kalim. 

Adorable, all of them.

[shiny-jr]

Have you ever thought of the imposter au with the staff of raven College? I could just imagine Crewel being the reason the reader is summoned to twst while not fulling knowing it (Probably coming in at the end to safe then after realize shits going down). That and maybe Crowley and Vargas going full mad dog and just chasing the reader like crazy. Maybe Trein tripping over his cat while chasing and reader/imposter feeling bad about it. Along with Sam using shadow creature to track the imposter down. Just a fun ideas I've been having, feel free to ignore.

I have thought about it before. I believe I even once mentioned that I would make a separate post for it eventually. Recently been thinking about platonic yan staff, so like fatherly type stuff for those of you with daddy issues.

Platonic yan Crowley! Wants to be your father figure so bad. Why won't you let him take you under his wing? You'd be his little fledgling! Ah, he must do his best to protect you! He is the headmaster of a prestigious school with unfortunately many arrogant troublesome students. Often he'll dramatically lament, inquiring why you don't wish to spend time with your dear old father? When you reply with a deadpan, "You're not my dad, Crowley." He'll break out into a melodramatic wail, oh woe is him that his own child does not wish to partake in any activities with him! Ah–– a way home, you ask? Well, during one of his many hours long searches in the library to find you a way home, something he adamantly assures you he's been doing, he had the most profound idea which he shall so graciously share with you! Why not stay in Twisted Wonderland and allow him to formally adopt you? Then you shall be his child and he will be sure to provide you with all the love and care you need! Isn't he a genius with such boundless benevolence?

Platonic yan Divus! Probably believes the whole world is out to get you. You poor little thing, far from home, lost and afraid, with no where else to go. Eventually he'll begin to doubt that Crowley is taking proper care of you, and deem his efforts as inadequate. Look at this wretched place, an old dorm filled with cobwebs and ghosts is supposed to be your home? An old oversized uniform and a handful of cheap worn clothes from the shop are all you have to wear? And your classmates, his own students, oh he knows what they're like. A bunch of ruthless mischief making pups! This is unacceptable! Divus will spoil you like his own. He has a soft spot for you, so when he's improving your conditions and getting rid of the old dirtied items, you hold up that feral monster cat and go, "Can I at least keep Grim? Please?" Ah, the puppy eyes. How could he say no to you? But that cat is getting a bath first. Oh, and he's incredibly wary of all the students. In his eyes, none of them are good enough to be your friends, and he's beginning to suspect all of them of trying to take advantage of you. Listen here, darling, you are not to trust any other men besides himself, are we clear?

Platonic yan Vargas! Oh god, not another one. Somehow, he's worse than the other two dads you've acquired. Especially because he thinks your escape attempts are some sort of crazy athletic training regimen. He's come to think of your monthly escape attempts as survival training, so not only is he enjoying himself but he's more than capable of keeping up and capturing you. Then dragging you back to NRC with a proud grin, boasting about how you got so much further than last time! "Let me go! Let go of me!" That's the spirit, he cheers. Seems like you're raring to train again, but now's the time regain your energy for next month! Eagerly tells you stories about his youth, how he was the strongest and most popular! He really wants you to look up to him, and he likes to think he's your favorite dad. Especially when it comes to Crewel, let's say they have differing opinions on how to properly care for you. While his counterpart prefers to pamper you, Vargas believes you need more activity and excitement in your life! Wouldn't you agree with him? Come on, give him a smile now!

Platonic yan Trein! The only real dad on the list. He has two sons that are already full adults now, and he believes you'd get along wonderfully with them. You would be their new younger sibling. "That's kinda... dumb. I'm not their sibling though." You comment, as he responds, it is not foolish to want all three of his children to get along. It's a bit annoying that you can never really get on his nerves, despite him being notoriously strict and a little intimidating with his stoic look. But like most of the dads on this list, he too has a weak spot for you. He still expects you to be a well-behaved though. No matter what you're like, he can handle it. After all, he's been a professor at NRC for so long, that he's seen and taken care of countless students. If you're looking for quiet time, he's probably the best to be with by far. He'll let his feline familiar Lucius sit on your lap as he serves you a platter of cookies with a hot beverage. When you do try to get on his nerves for whatever reason, it never works, so you end up plopping down beside him on the couch in defeat, angrily opening a magazine as he calmly continues to read a book. Now that the opportunity has present itself, he'd like to have a word with you. You should know that you are his pride and joy. That being said, should any of his students be pestering you, inform him immediately and he'll handle it promptly.

Platonic yan Sam! Most likely the best one to be with. It doesn't even feel like he's trying to be your dad, he's more like a cool but still concerning weird uncle. But if you had to classify him as a dad, he'd be the chill one. Although it is scary that he seems to know way more about you than you ever told him about. You suspect it has something to do with his friends on the other side. Whenever you're not with him, you have spied an oddly moving shadow or two... But the upside about that is, he always seems to know what you want. If it's small, he'll offer it for free. If it's a bigger item, he'll let you have it if you work the shop with him for a few hours. What's say you, huh? Sound like a deal? He'll entertain you a trick or two while you're here! Sam likes to call you his little good luck charm, because you tend to bring in more customers and just put him in a good mood. He choses to trust you, more than the other dads, probably because he knows you can't escape because he's always watching you somehow. You go on ahead, just be back by dark, you hear? He wouldn't want to send his friends to force you back home if you stay out late, m'kay?

[straightupsickfics]

human with our guards down

going to use a prompt from this list and call it day 7 of sickmas: cuddles

“Do you want me to hold you closer? “No that’s not it, ugh—I just want to curl up inside you. Is that weird?” 

****

Crowley cannot get comfortable.

It’s also possible he’s never felt worse in his entire long existence, which is saying something. Aziraphale would call him melodramatic for saying as much but he would be wrong.  

“Nnnh, ‘Ziraphale,” Crowley groans. His whole body aches, he can’t breathe properly, and he cannot, no matter how he tries, get close enough to his angel, and it’s driving him absolutely mad. Aziraphale had suggested tea and resting in bed as an alternative to Crowley's approach to being sick, which mostly included following Aziraphale around the cottage and making increasingly pathetic noises.

It'd been a nice enough idea. Crowley loves Aziraphale, he loves sleeping, and he detests being sick. But now it's been hours and he's done little more than watch the little trashcan fill with tissues, lose his breath to long jags of coughing, and sneeze more times than he can count.

Their cozy, dimly lit bedroom is entirely the angel's doing, of course. Complete with a mattress that feels like a cloud, more blankets and pillows than any two beings could ever realistically need, and full to bursting with books and candles and tchotchkes, it's designed for exactly a cozy day like this one.

It's Crowley and his horrible cold that are proving to be the problem.

“Yes, my dear?” Aziraphale asks, setting his book aside and focusing his full attention on Crowley. Despite this being exactly what he'd wanted, Crowley's cheeks flush at the attention, and he drops his gaze to Aziraphale's shoulder. He'd long since given up on the sunglasses, what with how they were constantly getting in the way of him blowing his nose, or drooping down when he sneezed, and in general getting in the way of his cursed cold.

The downside, of course, is that his eyes are extra sensitive now that he's sick, watering constantly, giving away just how needy he's feeling even with Aziraphale tucked in right beside him.

"S'nothing," Crowley says, feeling suddenly very silly about the entire thing. Maybe he could miracle himself into a week-long slumber and wake up feeling better again.

Aziraphale places a hand on Crowley's cheek, gently turning it so their eyes meet again and Crowley feels vaguely warm all over, like he could be a victim of spontaneous demon combustion at any moment. When his angel threads his fingers into the soft hair at the nape of his neck, Crowley very nearly leaps out of bed at the tenderness of it all.

It's not something he'll ever get used to, it seems, how simply sweet and affectionate Aziraphale is towards him, now they have nothing to hide.

“Do you want me to hold you closer?” Aziraphale asks, reading his mind, and Crowley's stomach does a complicated series of flips.

“No, that’s not it, ngk—I just…want to...curl up inside you," Crowley admits, tucking his face right in against Aziraphale's shoulder and letting his eyes fall shut. What a thing to want. What a thing to say. Surely he's asking too much—

"Oh, my dear," Aziraphale says, smiling. Crowley can't see it, but he can tell it's there, he can always tell, and that settles him some. "I'm sure there's something we can do about that..."

He repositions them both, slotting their legs together and wrapping his arms around Crowley until he's cocooned against his chest and covered in blankets, as close as he can possibly get. Close enough so he can't tell where he stops and Aziraphale begins. Close enough that Crowley can hear the warm, steady thrum of Aziraphale's heartbeat. It's that, combined with the warmth of his angel all around him, that finally soothes him enough to sleep.

[actofgrxce]

I know it was played off for laughs, and funny, but Ed really did want that cranky fisherman to be some kind of father figure and projected a lot of childhood needs onto him.

Like, can we discuss the significance of Ed saying "okay Pop-Pop, have it your way," and the only thing he believes he could ever be good at is pirating?

I understand why, but I'm not hugely thrilled that he had to dive to the bottom of the ocean and put his black leathers back on and become a cold and capable murderer just to save Stede--again--from his melodramatic and self absorbed fantasy version of that lifestyle.

I know a lot of viewers will argue that the pirate crew/piracy as an institution is a metaphor for the queer community, in which case Ed marching out of the sea in all black is a metaphor for Ed no longer being fearful of the vulnerability of belonging, and that he's integrating his softer self with the Blackbeard persona in order to grow as a more seamless part of the crew. I'm trying to see it that way and not in the more literal sense that he felt rejected (again) by Stede, whom he graciously allowed to replace him as captain, whom he coached and cheered on until he realized he didn't like this life anymore, and tried to follow Izzy's advice.

But I feel like we're gonna get another abrupt season finale in which the sunshine and rainbows idiot is going to be pardoned for his fuck ups; the person whose equally authentic trauma response is ugly and not cute or endearing is going to be told he should be grateful for any scrap of mercy; and that person is going to give up his capacity to become gentle and good in order to humor his friendly idiot LOML partner.

I'm being salty because I'm tired. I've just been through this basic premise as Crowley in Good Omens and as the Master in the Thirteen Era of Doctor Who. It is so painful writing the dark horse part of a pairing, and I keep doing it to myself, lol. This always happens and I always write the "bad guy" character that goes from popular to controversial at best. For once I want to write the character everyone agrees is just innately and obviously good. I see so much goodness in Ed and every other character I write but hey... "I walk a lonely roaaad," lol.

Such jumbled thoughts, sorry. This is just me pausing at the halfway point to go to bed and being grumpy because of course Ed can't get to be soft and peaceful, he has to be doomed by the narrative to be the infamous asshole who slaughters (even though the British Navy is horrible and the victims arent innocent) to protect and dote on the character he can't believe would ever deign to speak to him.

Just let Ed open his inn and wear his hair down and wear a silk kimono and cry. Jesus, just let something unironically sweet and gentle happen to someone who loathes himself enough as it is.

[aziraphales-library]

this is very specific but do you have any fics that take place before/after their meeting in Rome 41 AD? if not, any other historical fics like those of ToEdenAndBackAgain?

thanks so much, love the blog! 💕

Oh, I have several fics set around the meeting in Rome!...

Perceive Me as Who I Am by Aethelflaed (T)

Demons have no internal sense of identity.

Crowley is, in many ways, only "Crowley" as long as those around him--and he himself--perceive him that way. He maintains his tenuous grip on his identity through his actions, his speech, his appearance.

But in Rome, he meets someone who can tear all that apart. And Aziraphale must find a way to put him back together.

--

Cautiously, Aziraphale stuck his head through the door. It appeared to be empty, wooden floor and plaster shredded as if some wild animal had been locked inside. There was blood here and there, and it certainly wasn’t human.

Tucked in the corner where the clay roof tiles nearly sloped to the floor, lay a bed, just a pallet stuffed with straw. A dark figure lay upon it, burrowed into so many blankets he almost couldn’t see the shape tremble.

“Crowley?” He could sense the demonic energy, though not as powerful as usual. As if it were being hidden. “Are you...quite alright?”

Animae Dimidium Meae by NuriaSchnee (T)

After dining at Petronius' restaurant, Aziraphale invites Crowley to the theatre. That evening, Aziraphale discovers how much Crowley loves comedies and... Something more.

When in Rome by Nenchen (T)

The first time it happened Crowley had just been wandering through the desert aimlessly, bored out of his mind because he just couldn’t seem to find any people. And then suddenly there was this pulling sensation, like gravity thousandfold, a magnetic force, something that was pulling him somewhere else and it felt like.

It felt like falling had.

---

The first time Crowley was summoned, he was scared when he didn't need to be.

This time, he wasn't. But he really should have been.

After he makes it out, he gets found by Aziraphale, and emotions get high.

Lessons and Lamentations by Lady of Prompts (G)

41 AD

Crowley has been alone for so long, he doesn't remember any other way to be.

And then an angel in a tavern tries to tempt him.

A lesson in music, and what it means to not be alone.

and the world is the mollusc of your choice by KannaOphelia (T)

"Oysters, I tell you. They have warm hanging baths in winter, to keep them alive. Clever, clever inventors, humans."

"They have libraries in the baths. Well, not in the actual water. In the bathhouses. You like libraries." Crowley seemed a little distracted. He drained his mug and gestured for more. His eyes, imperfectly concealed behind circles of dark glass, lit up with sudden enthusiasm. "Should come to the baths with me. Right now. Nice books. You can read. And, and have a massage and a bath. With me." The thought seemed to delight him for some reason. He snaked to his feet and leaned over the table, offering a long lean hand. Long and lean like all of him. "Come on, 'zir'phale."

Blame The Oysters by IneffableDoll (T)

Aziraphale tried not to sound exasperated. “Going to tell me what’s wrong?”

Crowley stared at him for a long moment, expression frozen in something incredulous and disbelieving. “Absolutely not.”

“Why? You can’t trust me with it?”

“Oh, I trust you,” Crowley said. He continued without regard for how Aziraphale was struggling to restart his heart after the sheer joy those words brought him. “But I can’t trust you with this. ‘S a secret. Now go away so I can continue with what I was doing.”

Aziraphale huffed. “Sulking?”

Crowley glared at him.

~~~

Crowley runs out of Petronius’ restaurant when he has a sudden realization. Aziraphale, confused and in love, follows him. A lot of bickering, melodramatics, and, eventually, romance ensues. By the stars, what fools.

Sauntering Vaguely Downwards by Owenjones (G)

Between when they chatted at Jesus' crucifixion and when they argued in knight's armor, Crowley and Aziraphale had a chance meeting at a hole-in-the-wall bar in Rome. There, they debated theology drunk for the first time.

“I mean, think about it. If She knows everything, then She must have known we were going to rebel the second She made us.”

“Best not to speculate,” Aziraphale shifted uncomfortably in his seat, “As I have told you so many times now, Her plans are ineffaf- Ineffabab-”

“Ineffable?”

“Yes,” said Aziraphale before finishing off his glass and pouring another, “Dear Lord, how much have I drunk?”

- Mod D

[inconveniently-discorporated]

Having 500 songs on my playlist just isn't good enough. Now I will also need to make breakout playlists from the Ineffable Playlist. 😩

Here are the categories I've thought of on my lunch:

Bohemian Angels - all of the songs about giving the middle finger to the law, breaking rules, breaking out of terrible relationships/situations for your own betterment, fallen and renegade angel type stuff.

The Ritz - probably all of the cheerful, sappy love songs about how great it is to be in love.

90 MPH in Central London - all of the songs about driving fast, cars, vroom vroom in general.

Our Side - probably for the love songs that are more about the hard side of love -- not quite broken hearted, but the ones about fighting for your relationship.

Burning Bookshop - songs about tragic loss, lost love, terrible loneliness.

The Bandstand - melodramatic songs about breakups, being lonely (but not as dark as the previous category).

God's a Bit Tetchy - songs added because they evoke religious imagery.

Oh, Bebop - songs that were definitely written by Crowley for/about Aziraphale (see - Pale Blue Eyes by The Velvet Underground), possibly all of the ones about pining.

Edit: And obviously, I'm going to have one called Best of Queen. This is exactly what it sounds like. For obvious reasons.

[aterimber]

Living In The Shade

Request #23 (fic 1 of 2), from hallmarkdestiel (Tumblr): Will you do one with Destiel, Sabriel and Crobby? Please please please please please please? Please please please please please please? Please please please please please please? Please please please please please please?

I love protective!Crowley where he’s their friend and stuff. So maybe a case fic or something. Maybe they run into some hunters who aren’t so accepting.

Thanks so much for your request! This fic focuses more on the ‘non-accepting hunter’ part,  but don’t worry! I’ll be writing another fic that focuses on the fluffy Destiel, Sabriel, Crobby aspect, so that I deliver on your entire request, instead of just one part of it.

That said, I hope you enjoy the fic!

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

Started: 21.03.15

Finished: 21.03.23

Words: 2,808

Destiel, Sabriel, Crobby

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

“Pfft, come on!” Dean waved a dismissive hand, nearly knocking the Monopoly board over as he stood from the couch, “There’s no way I can pay that!”

Gabriel shrugged, satisfied smile on his face as he leaned back in his chair, “If you don’t pay, I win the game.”

Dean rolled his eyes, before they landed on his brother sitting in the corner of the room, head buried in a book, “Sam, your boy-toy isn’t playing fair.”

He didn’t look up, “Gabe, play fair.”

The angel sputtered a moment before turning around to face his boyfriend, “Well maybe you should tell your brother that buying all the properties that ‘sound cool’ isn’t a good game strategy.”

Sam raised an eyebrow, eyes still not lifting from the page he was on, “I thought Cas was Game Moderator?”

“He is.”

“So you’re asking me because…?”

Dean sat back down with a huff, “Because Cas left around the time Gabriel stole my last hundred.”

“I didn’t steal anything, Winchester.” Gabriel crossed his arms over his chest, “You land on my property, you have to pay.”

“That’s a dumb rule.”

“That’s how you play the game!” Gabriel shook his head before getting up from his chair. He stretched his arms above his head, before making his way over to the giant in the corner, “So, what’s got you so preoccupied that you had to miss Game Night?”

“You mean other then not wanting to get in the middle of you and Dean duking it out over fake money?” A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he finally lifted his eyes from the book and he shrugged, “Just thought I should brush up on some in-”

Cas burst in the room then, eyes frantic as he spotted the men, “Demons!”

Dean stood from the couch, posture immediately switching to Hunter Mode as he took a few steps toward his angel, “What do you mean ‘demons’? Demons are coming? Here?”

“Yes,” Cas took a few steps into the middle of the room, turning so he was facing the kitchen door, angel blade at the ready, “They followed me back.”

Dean rushed to his jacket, grabbing Ruby’s knife before tossing an angel blade at his brother, “I thought this place was warded?”

“It used to be, but after-” The sound of a door banging open cut off the end of the angel’s sentence.

Gabriel rolled his eyes before plopping himself down in Sam’s chair with a huff, “You’d think with Bobby shtupping their leader they’d leave you alone.”

“What?” Dean turned to the angel, incredulous look on his face, “You’re kidding, right? Where did you get that idea?”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow at him, “Uhm, because I have eyes. And ears. They’re not exactly quiet about it.”

A demon burst into the room then, evil smile splitting his face as he spotted the boys, “Excellent.” He leaned slightly back into the doorway, “They’re all here!”

Two more demons joined him then, all of them smiling widely. The first one took a step forward, “Where’s Crowley?”

Dean raised an eyebrow, “What makes you think we know?”

“Cut the crap, Winchester.” The first demon took a few more steps toward them, “Whenever the King goes missing, he’s always with you.”

Dean shrugged, holding his hands out to his sides, “Well, unless you think one of us is gonna poop him out…”

“Oh, good,” First Demon’s smile widened, “I was hoping we could do this the hard way.”

He flicked Dean back against a wall with a loud thud, before turning to Cas as he rushed forward. Cas tackled the demon to the ground, while the other two started toward Sam. The giant took a few steps toward them before being flung against the wall, angel blade falling from his grip. He let out a huff as he tried to pry himself off the wall, with no luck.

Dean stood up with a groan, just in time to see Cas plunge Ruby’s knife into the lead demon’s chest. He helped his angel up off the body, before he was flung back against the wall again. He struggled for a moment as he was pinned, sending daggers at the other demons, before noticing Gabriel was still sitting, examining his nails, “You planning on helping or…?”

“Oh, relax,” Gabriel waved a dismissive hand, “They’re not here to fight.”

Dean snorted, “Oh, great.” He raised an eyebrow at the closest demon, “So this is just how you guys get your rocks off?”

“Careful, Winchester.” The demon who had him pinned took a few steps back toward him, “Just because we didn’t come here to kill you doesn’t mean it can’t end like that.”

Cas scoffed and took a step between the demon and his boyfriend, twirling the angel blade in his hand, “I’d like to see you try.”

“What the hell’s going on here?” The voice from behind them made the demon’s jump, effectively dropping the Winchesters to the ground. Crowley took a step into the room, raising an eyebrow at the demons, “Well?”

“U-uh,” One of the demons took a small step toward the Scot, “There was a problem, a-and we needed-”

“A problem?” He shot a look over his shoulder to Bobby, who was leaning against the kitchen door frame, looking just as unimpressed, “And what problem is so terrible you had to violate my Do Not Disturb order?”

The demon swallowed thickly, “W-well, Simon, y’know, the crossroads demon? H-he’s been-”

Crowley held up his hand, “Save it.” He turned to Bobby, apologetic smile on his face, “Can I get a rain check on tonight, Darling?”

Bobby raised an eyebrow at him, purposefully ignoring the questioning look Dean shot his way as the blonde struggled to his feet, “I thought tonight was the rain check?”

Crowley let out an exasperated sigh and took a half-step closer to the eldest, “It’s not my fault they’re idiots.”

Bobby’s eyes flicked up to the two demons, “Yeah, fine. Go save the underworld.” He smirked as he brought his eyes back to their leader, “Not like I needed you for the whole night, anyway.”

The coy smile on the demon’s face made Dean shoot a half-confused, half-surprised look at his brother. Sam shrugged as Crowley turned back to his cronies, letting out a sigh, “Let’s get this over with.”

With a snap of his fingers, all three of the Hell spawn disappeared. Dean immediately took a step toward his father figure, “What the hell was that?”

Bobby finally looked at the boys, expression smooth, “What was what?”

Dean took a another step, gesturing vaguely to the space the demons had just occupied, “That! A-are you-”

“Dating Crowley?”

Dean held his hand up as his brother closed the distance, “God, don’t say that out loud!”

Bobby shrugged, “So what if I was?”

Dean sputtered a moment, “I-it…it’s,” he turned to the other men in the room, searching for confirmation, “it’s sick!”

Bobby raised an eyebrow, “Sick?”

“He’s a demon, Bobby! H-how would you even…?” The blonde let his voice trail off, nose crinkling as the mental picture hit him, “No, you know what? Don’t answer that.”

Bobby’s eyes moved off the blonde, “Sam?”

Sam half-shrugged, “I don’t want to think about you like… that, but if you’ve found someone who makes you happy-”

“What?” Dean turned to his brother, “Have you completely lost your mind?”

“No, but I just-” he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, eyes darting to the two uncharacteristically silent angels, “We have to be… fair.”

“‘Fair’?” Dean let out a humourless chuckle, “What are you talking about?”

“Well,” Sam shifted his weight again, “We’re both dating angels, so it’s not exactly like we’re in a position to judge.”

“Yeah, but it’s Crowley, Sam!”

“And you’re with Cas.”

Dean rolled his eyes, “Cas was never a bad guy!”

“I did once eviscerate your brother’s mental health in a bid to distract you while I attempted to open a door to Purgatory.”

Dean huffed, turning to his angel, “Y-yeah, but that was different.”

“How?”

His brows pulled together as he thought, “T-that… that was a long time ago. And you didn’t do that because you wanted to.” He turned back to his father figure, “Crowley has screwed us every single chance he’s gotten just because he could. Me and Sam would never date someone who would purposefully-”

Gabriel cleared his throat from his seat, sly smile on his face as Dean shot daggers at him, “Wanna rephrase that?”

“You guys are killing me.” Dean ran a hand through his hair, “We’d never date someone who was actively trying to screw us over.” He turned expectant eyes to the others, “Can we all agree on that?”

Bobby raised an eyebrow at the blonde, “So… what? Are you forbidding me from seeing him?”

“What? No. Don’t turn this into some weird teeny-bopper drama. I just…” his eyes searched the floor as he tried to find the right words, “Are you sure there’s no one else you’d rather, y’know…” his faced scrunched again, “do?”

Bobby snorted as he pushed off the doorway, “That’s not all we do, Dean.”

“Not all you…?,” the blonde reached a hand out behind him as he took a stumbled step backward, “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

Bobby rolled his eyes as he crossed the now angel-less room, “Quit being so melodramatic. It’s not that big a deal.”

“Not that big a deal?” Dean raised an eyebrow and followed him, stopping at the base of the stairs, “Ordering waffles and getting pancakes isn’t that big a deal. You dating the King of Hell? That’s a big deal!”

Bobby huffed, turning on the step he was on, “Well how ‘bout I make it real simple for you then, Dean?” He locked eyes with the blonde, face hard, “I never asked for your opinion, and I damn sure don’t need your permission. Got it?”

Dean swallowed thickly, but nodded, watching in silent surprise as the eldest disappeared up the stairs. He starred after him a minute – just long enough to hear a bedroom door close – before he ran a hand through his hair, making his way back to the couch, “Can you believe that?”

Sam approached cautiously, kneeling on the ground before picking up the empty game box, “That was a little rude, Dean.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“No,” Sam shook his head as he started packing up the board game, “I mean you were rude.”

“What?” The blonde looked up from the fake money he was stacking together, raising an eyebrow, “You’re kidding, right?”

Sam let out a sigh, keeping his eyes on the board he was packing, “I know you’re not that big a fan of demons, but…” he let his voice trail off, brows furrowing as he searched for the right words, “Where did all that intolerance come from?”

“Intolerance?” Dean scoffed, “I’m not intolerant. I just don’t like it.”

“You don’t have to like it to be respectful.” Sam flicked his eyes up to his brother, “You basically outlawed Crowley from his own house, after he saved our asses.”

“Sam-”

“No, Dean, look,” he closed the lid to the now-packed-away game box, and stood, “I don’t trust Crowley any more than you do, but don’t you think – that after everything – Bobby deserves to be happy?”

“’Course,” Dean ran a hand through his hair, before resting his arms on his knees, “But why can’t he be happy with someone else? Y’know, like a human. Any human?”

“Well we did kill Fate.” The corner of Sam’s mouth turned up into a smile, “Maybe he was destined to be with someone else.”

“Oh great,” Dean rolled his eyes as he stood, “Now you’re saying this is our fault?”

“No,” he clapped his brother on the shoulder, getting him to look him in the eye, “I’m saying don’t ask a person to choose between you and their significant other. You might not like who they choose.”

Dean opened his mouth to reply, before closing it silently, “Yeah, alright, fine.” He swatted his brother’s hand off his shoulder, making a break for the kitchen, “Can we get back to game night, now?”

Sam shrugged, “If you tell the angels it’s safe to come back.”

Dean rolled his eyes, “Cowards.” He ran a hand through his hair again, “Fine. I’ll send out the Bat Signal while I start the popcorn. You pick the next game.”

“But, Dean, I was in the middle of-”

Dean turned, “Game Night was your angel’s stupid idea.” He shot his brother a cocky smile as he leaned against the door frame, “That means you have to suffer, just like the rest of us.”

--

Dean shot up in his bed, frantic eyes looking around the dark bedroom, what the…? He blinked his eyes rapidly, willing them to adjust to the darkness as he scanned the room, jumping out of bed as he saw a silhouette standing in the doorway.

“I wouldn’t bother with that, if I were you.”

Dean stopped, crouched beside the bed, arm halfway to the machete he kept under it. He raised an eyebrow as he placed the accent, “…Crowley?”

“The one and only.”

Dean rolled his eyes before straightening back up, “What the hell are you doing in here?”

“Ssshhh,” Crowley gestured for the hunter to meet him in the doorway, “Are you trying to wake him up?”

Dean turned to the bed, and was mildly surprised to see Cas sleeping, smushed against the wall, since when does he sleep? He made his way out into the hall, pulling the bedroom door closed behind him, keeping his voice low, “Well? What do you want?”

“I always thought angels would be too… hard to cuddle with,” Crowley sighed after a moment at the lack of answer, “Fine, straight to business, then.” He leaned himself against the banister, “It seems we have a problem.”

Dean snorted, crossing his arms over his chest, “We’ve got lots of problems, Crowley. You’re gonna have to be more specific.”

“You have a problem with me and Bobby?”

Dean rolled his eyes, “Not this again. Look, I don’t-”

“Normally, I couldn’t give a rat’s ass what you think about me,” he flicked his eyes toward the bedroom at the end of the hall, sighing, “But apparently your opinion of me matters to Bobby. Which means we need to fix this. So,” he rubbed his hands together, giving the hunter an expectant look, “What exactly are you concerned about, hm?”

Dean scoffed, “You’re kidding, right?” At the lack of answer, he ran a hand through his hair, “Fine. You’re a demon, which means you feed on chaos, and love torturing those around you, just because you can. All you’ve done is lie, manipulate and try to kill both me and Sam,” he took a step forward, face growing serious as he felt the anger begin to bubble up in his chest, “And, perhaps most irritatingly, you’re juuust too useful for us to kill, no matter how much we’ve wanted to. So no, I don’t trust you. And I especially don’t condone your… whatever it is you’re doing with Bobby, because I know you’re incapable of having good intentions. But,” he took in a breath as he backed off a few steps, “for some reason, you seem to be making Bobby happy, so I’m not gonna stand in the way of that.”

Crowley nodded slowly, “Y’know you give pretty good threatening speeches when you’re half-asleep?” At the eye roll, Crowley took a few steps away from the banister, raising an eyebrow, “Are you sure you’ll be able to hide all of,” he gestured vaguely to the hunter, “whatever emotion that is?”

Dean gave him a tight smile, “I did it with Ruby, I can do it with you.”

Crowley snorted, “Yeah, because that ended so well.”

Dean rushed forward again, pinning the demon against the banister, “I got to stab that Hell bitch while Sam pinned her down after she royally fucked up, so yeah, I’d say it ended well. And, just so we’re clear,” he narrowed his eyes, nodding toward Bobby’s bedroom, “If you ever hurt him, I’ll be first in line to roast your bones over a bonfire. Got it?”

“Got it.” The blonde backed off again, and Crowley took a few steps away from the banister again, straightening his suit, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a tied up hunter to attend to.”

“Ugh,” Dean held up his hand, face twisting into disgust at the mental picture, “Just because I’m not gonna stab you in your sleep doesn’t mean I want to hear about your crazy demon sex. I’ve got more than enough life scars, thanks.”

A sly smile pulled at the corner of Crowley’s mouth as he started back down the hall, “Love you too, Darling.”

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

Want to see more FULL fics? Check them out here! I post NEW short stories EVERY 2 weeks on Fridays!

Have a request you’d like me to write? Shoot me a message telling me what you’d like, or e-mail me: fanfic@aterimber.com, with the subject line ‘Request’. (SPN Only)

[quillyfied]

Mega Good Omens Fic Rec Post 5

What up, it’s back!

77 carefully-curated titles for your perusal today! As always, the fics are broken into the following categories: Jaunts through History/Canon, South Downs, Post-Apocalypse, Bus Ride/The Night Before/Heaven and Hell, AU/UA, Just Soft, Touch-Starved/Body Worship/Wings, Bonus, and H/C /Whump/BAMF. I don’t read smut fics but sometimes there are sexual elements to the stories and sometimes you get invested and then suddenly the author drops a smut chapter, so warnings where applicable.

Mega GOmens Fic Rec Post MASTER

LET ME KNOW IF A LINK IS BROKEN OR MISATTRIBUTED AND I WILL FIX IT RIGHT AWAY.

JAUNTS THROUGH HISTORY/CANON

1.     Get Thee To A Nunnery – Owenjones (T, the one where Aziraphale is put in a nunnery and needs a bit of a rescue. More or less Ineffable Wives time, but warnings for Aziraphale being forced into a female corporation against his will, that’s pretty icky (three guesses for who the offending Archangel is). Crowley is posing as a little lady known as Julie D’Aubigny, which, if that rings no bells, you should Google her immediately and then go into this fic cackling like I did. Very sweet, a fun little adventure!)

2.    Bibliophilia – @wingedspirit (G, the one where Aziraphale has a book nemesis and Crowley always seems to have the perfect book as a gift, what a coincidence. This is so funny, you guys, seriously. We stan ONE (1) oblivious angel in this house. And when Aziraphale finally catches on, it’s so cute, I can’t even. I cannot EVEN. Go read it right now immediately.)

3.    The Heart Goes To Heaven, The Head Goes To Hell – Dekkles (T, the one where Crowley has intentions of making an angel Fall and it kinda…backfires. Guys fair warning, this one’s version of Hell is really gross, if you’re squeamish tread very carefully bc WOW it can get a bit graphic. Y’know what’s also gross? The PINING (obviously not gross in the same way but the pining is awfully feelsy and part of it does happen in Hell). Watching this Crawly go from an honestly nauseating portrayal of Hell to watching Aziraphale and kinda awkwardly twitching in his light is so delightful and I hope for more in the future (though maybe less visions of Hell, I will be so glad if and when the fic leaves that place because yikes).)

4.    i like this place (it feels spooky) – @asideofourown (G, the one where Warlock manages to convince Nanny and Brother Francis to take him to a haunted house and it’s so cute. You guys. It’s SO cute. You really get a feel for little Warlock’s personality and how he sees things (and he sees ALL). Just a really cute “family” outing, really, and someone gets spooked at the end and it’s not who you think!)

5.    Doubt the Stars are Fire – LilithReisender (T, the one where Aziraphale bails Crowley out of prison and they spend time together in an Italian villa. This one has cool history bits, really fun banter, and Crowley actively on the job while trying to pretend he isn’t on the job. It’s a delight, and it’s just getting started! Jump on this bandwagon, folks, it’s great!)

6.    The Hellfire Club – @amarguerite (NR, the one where greater measures are taken to make sure Aziraphale isn’t promoted back upstairs. This one is so hilarious, you guys, I can’t even tell you which bit is my favorite. And the cherry on top? Wing grooming! (I can also tell you that something highly unpleasant happens to Sandalphon, if that sweetens the pot for anyone.) If you have a Thing for Crowley and Aziraphale being melodramatic and overacting, then stay put, friends. Also continue reading this list, there’s a few more that’ll catch your eye later on.)

7.     The Immortal Look – MickyRC (G, the one where Crowley puts Aziraphale in some kohl and it’s awesome. A written entry for the Prince of Omens DTIYS, and even independent from Prince of Omens this fic is a winner, in my book. Crowley going dewy-eyed over Aziraphale’s looks in any capacity is always My Jam and this fic really goes for it.)

8.    Merry & Bright – @peppervl (G, the one where Aziraphale and Crowley go undercover as a married couple in the Regency. You like fem!Aziraphale but don’t see it often enough? SIT DOWN, FRIENDO. Not only does this have a lovely Miss Fell for us to fawn over, but it’s a Miss Fell in possession of a fortune and surely in want of a husband, according to prim-and-proper London, and who better to help her out than one Mr. Crowley who happens to need some help on a temptation? Fun, romantic, and with a cute little twist at the end I shan’t spoil but you should really stick around for.)

9.    Putting the Endearment in Dear – @joyandotherstories (G, the one where Aziraphale starts calling everyone “dear” just so he can also call Crowley by endearments. This one is sweet and a little sad and has the softest possible ending, y’all don’t even know. Read it, the point in time where Aziraphale doesn’t have to hold back his mountain of endearments anymore is a sight to behold.)

10. Between the Lines – cyankelpie (G, the one where Crowley and Aziraphale’s feelings are known but not spoken, at least not directly. This one is a historical jaunt where they have a lot of double-meaning conversations (and Crowley is very rightly lost through a lot of it, poor dear), and it aches, you guys, it just hurts. Not finished yet as of this review but WHEN IT’S DONE—I’m sure it’ll be worth it. Hot dang.)

11.  No Matter How the Stars Align (They Make Me Think of You) – silentsonata (G, the one that covers stars that Crowley and Aziraphale have met under. Every once in a while there’ll come along a fic that shakes the ground as it walks. I understand the Big Bang events usually churn these out, and there are quite a few on this list, but this fic here? A masterpiece. Pitch-perfect in every way, just a stunner. I want to tell y’all to pay special attention to certain chapters but they all took my breath utterly away and it would be unfair to single any out over the rest, the whole work is a monument. Just beautiful.)

12.  Too Wise to Woo Peaceably – purewanderlust (T, the one that’s five times they see “Much Ado About Nothing” throughout history. I love me some “Much Ado,” personally, and this fic knows what it’s on about. Wonderfully romantic and ends with the single most perfect conversation, I swear 2 someone. Hits right in the feels.)

13.  Just Another Sword Fight – DemonicGeek (NR, the one that’s a 5+1 about Crowley swordfighting. If you’re here because Aziraphale taking on the role of the swooning maiden to Crowley’s dashing hero makes you, in fact, be the one swooning, say hello to your new best friend. If you like to follow all that up with Aziraphale taking charge when needed, I might suggest building a home here, because ABSOLUTELY that’s what you’re getting.)

14.  A Few More Rescues – @poetic----nonsense (T, the one with, predictably, a few more rescues. If the previous fic had you reeling and begging for more, welcome to the buffet, children. These are some really fun rescues by Crowley on behalf of Aziraphale, and they’re unconventional and historical AF (especially the bit with the dragon) (you bet your sweet keister there’s a bit with a dragon). This fic is so much fun and I thoroughly enjoyed reading it.)

15.  Floriography – Frenchmeister (T, the one where Crowley doesn’t get flower language. The premise is, Crowley slept through a large chunk of the Victorian era, so he doesn’t know what Aziraphale keeps trying to say as they work at the Dowlings’ estate raising Warlock. He does know that the philodendron is a menace, no matter what it’s supposed to mean. Funny and nerve-wracking and so, so sweet.)

16.  The Interplay of Illusion and Magic – SoulJelly (T, the one where Aziraphale tries to join a magicians’ society. This one has some delightful history and Aziraphale trying to perform sleight of hand magic to get in a secret magicians club and a surprising twist near the middle, all told; it’s a lot more exciting than I initially thought it was going to be (I was just expecting some fluff and that was not all I got; it’s always a good day when Crowley has to come to the rescue).)

SOUTH DOWNS

17.  There goes the neighborhood – @bestoftheseekwill (G, the one where Crowley’s retirement peace is threatened by construction. If you’re here for Crowley wiles, anti-capitalism, and flashes of protective Aziraphale, get ready to take a load off because this is primo.)

18. Teatime Revelations – Cardinal_Daughter (T, the one where God invites Herself over for tea. This one is strained and it’s emotional and it’s all the softer for it. Aziraphale being quiet and protective while Crowley has a come-apart in the face of God is iconic, tbh; pretty sure this fic inspired a lot of my own portrayals of the GOmens God, looking back on it. A wonderful and light-hearted take.)

POST-APOCALYPSE

19.  Lose a Kraken, Gain an Angel – MistressKat (T, the one where Hastur has an expected friendship. This fic has everything—Hastur being a sympathetic character, the Kraken, Crowley pining after Aziraphale, the Antichrist, and is hilarious from start to finish. A fun and tonally accurate diversion, please read.)

20. Something Old, Something New – shippityshipship (G, the series where Crowley and Aziraphale are involved in weddings. Short and hasn’t updated in a while but still excellent reading, I find; great characterization, some fun OCs, lovely atmosphere, oblivious pining while everyone else thinks they’re dating, it’s amazing.)

21.  The difficulty with disposable demons – @areyougonnabe (T, the one where Eric the disposable demon shows up and it’s a madhouse in Crowley’s apartment. This is a really funny take on what happens to the disposable demons and why they are the way they are, and with the added bonus of driving Crowley up the wall and some mild miscommunications with Aziraphale that are all sorted out in the end.)

22. Care and Keeping – @arcafira (M, T, the series where Crowley is shedding and Aziraphale tries to help. Not rated M for anything violent or sexual, really more of a T than an M but there is a bath scene and a lot of self-loathing. There’s a lot of convincing Crowley to let Aziraphale care for him and a lot of working through Fall-related issues, but it leaves off in a wonderfully hopeful place.)

23. The Clockwork Days – redwinehouse (T, the one where the world’s ending again. There are many fics that have tackled possible sequels to Good Omens and this is one of the more tonally accurate ones, I feel; it’s very tongue-in-cheek and matter-of-fact, and the little twist at the end was a genuine surprise to me. Whack in plenty of mutual pining and a Bentley that has had it up to HERE with these idiots and you’ve got a recipe for a good little story.)

24. don’t leave me here alone – Elvendork (T, the one where Crowley asks for holy water again. This one is a tense argument, right up until it isn’t, and absolutely delectable, really. If you’re a fan of Aziraphale bringing up hellfire to go toe to toe with Crowley on the issue, BUCKLE UP BUTTERCUP, this one is dunking itself into Soft Town with that accelerant to really drive it home.)

25. The Next Time We Wed – seashadows (T, the one where a mix-up leads to marriage. If drunken mistakes and their aftermath is what you’re after, welcome to the party, folks, because this one’s a whopper. Can people pine while being married to each other? The answer is yes. Can it have a soft ending? Also yes. Can it include the mothers of such characters as Anathema and Newt being wonderful characters in their own right? The answer, incredibly, is yes.)

26. You Can’t Un-See A Dog – @holycatsandrabbits (T, the one where Crowley is summoned and there’s shenanigans afoot. I won’t talk too much about the plot of this one bc I don’t want to spoil it but suffice it to say that this one is hilarious and has some especially gratifying Ineffable Husband silent communication at play. If your entire reason for existence, like Crowley’s, is seeing Bastard!Aziraphale at work, then bunk down here, friendos, you’ve arrived.)

BUS RIDE/NIGHT BEFORE/HEAVEN AND HELL

27. Crowley, Big Bad Demon, Can Keep His Cool Around His Crush – @edennovik (T, the one where Crowley…well, see title, and then immediately disregard. Crowley cannot, in fact, keep his cool around his crush. Crowley is doing the opposite of keeping his cool around his crush. Crowley is a ball of anxiety and screaming pining gooey mess and Aziraphale might just like him anyway.)

AU/UA

28. If Not Now, When – @ineffablefool (T, the one where trans café worker Crowley strikes up a conversation with fat pretty Aziraphale. Listen. Y’all know ineffablefool. Y’all know he is a force that cannot be stopped or reckoned with, when it comes to Soft Fat-Postive Asexual Romance. So I do not say this lightly when I say that this is possibly his masterwork. There is a lot of good, good content in his catalogue but the emotional work put into this makes the whole thing stand straight up and resonate. It’s tender and respectful and handles conflicts of gender and sexuality with grace and gentleness and oh no I’m tearing up pls send help I’m DROWNING—).

29. Trip the Light – @summerofspock (M, the one where Aziraphale falls in love first. M for a sex scene near the end of the fic, second half of Chapter 17, so keep an eye out for that if you’re sensitive to it. Oh, y’all. This one goes through canon and a few scenes outside of it and the recontextualizing of those scenes as Aziraphale hopelessly in love and Crowley as oblivious is amazing. Even more amazing: once Crowley finally catches on and then it becomes Aziraphale once again in his role of holding back. Guys. Y’all. My DUDES. I am in the throes of agony. It’s so good.)

30. one love (only for you) – @weatheredlaw (M, the one that’s a vague Snow White AU. It’s truly unfair how poetic and romantic this one is, how lovely. It has fantasy elements and ridiculous vengeful brothers and soft, soft boys in love. A sweet little way to spend an afternoon, tbh.)

31.  in the house we remain – @commodorecliche (M, the one where Crowley’s a ghost in the house Aziraphale has bought. M for masturbation, weird ghost sex, and a harrowing backstory for Crowley; if you’re squeamish about sexual things and not good at gauging how to skip them, or if you can’t stand abuse stories, I would pass this one up. Y’all. Y’ALL. So thoroughly upsetting, this one; the horror elements are real but so is the romance and it’s a beautiful balance of the two. What’s wild is how believable it is; it could easily have been a story about Aziraphale just becoming obsessed with and romanticizing a dead person who used to live in his house but it feels like an actual love story, with Crowley learning how to trust Aziraphale, as well, despite their planar incompatibility. The ending is so unbelievably sweet. And there’s art now! There wasn’t, when I first added it to the list! Huzzah!)

32. pop! goes my heart – @areyougonnabe (E, the one that’s a Music and Lyrics AU. E for a sex scene near the end of Chapter 6 that’s a bit difficult to skip, since there’s a couple of relevant paragraphs after it that set up the next chapter, but if you’re up for the challenge, godspeed. First things first: this fic has ORIGINAL MUSIC RECORDED BY THE AUTHOR AND IT’S AMAZING. Music and Lyrics is one of my personal favorite romcoms, and what’s been done with it is not only accurate to the actual music industry, but accurate to the characters, as well. It’s such a fun story, adapted well, and the writing style is just charming. Fantastic!)

33. For the First Time in Forever – @nicnacsnonsense (T, the one that’s a Frozen AU. I am excited for this one, y’all. The adaptation is already so much fun and it’s only going to get funner. Aziraphale as Elsa and Crowley in an Anna-adjacent role (but not actually bc no incest) is amazing, the Olaf stand-in outshines the original, and the emotional toll is already pretty high. Absolutely worth a read.)

34. Sailor’s Omens – NeverNooitNiet (G, the one where Crowley’s a pirate and Aziraphale is his prisoner. There’s a touch of historical homophobia but that doesn’t matter much out at sea, really. If the boys being clever and bickering and also one-upping beloved series antagonists is something you enjoy, welcome to the party, friends. It’s a good old-fashioned piracy romp that’s sure to satisfy.)

35. Pomegranate Seeds – @nicnacsnonsense (G, the one that’s a Persephone and Hades AU with Aziraphale as Hades and Crowley as Persephone. This one has a unique tone and is also romantic as all get-out; throw in genderfluid Crowley, love at first sight, and Aziraphale being a sweetie, it’s a story well worth its salt, imo.)

36. Laws of Gravity – @brightwanderer (T, the one where Aziraphale invents pining for Raphael. Listen. I think we all know at this point that brightwanderer, or Atalan on ao3, has earned her clout as a GOmens fanfic heavyweight. She didn’t NEED to write an awkward and earnest Raphael trying to go incognito as Crowley into the Garden of Eden. She didn’t NEED to write about how incredibly awkward Aziraphale is while heels over halo in love. She didn’t NEED to have an engaging plot and a wonderful twist on the Temptation of Eve and also the most awkward and obvious besotted angels in the universe. But she did. And we are blessed. So go partake.)

37. Incubus!Crowley – GenericUsername01 (G, T, the series where Crowley is a sex demon and we get to see what that means. This fic threads the very specific needle I personally enjoy where sex is an element of the story and has bearing on it, but the story doesn’t have any actual sex scenes in it. I love this writer’s style and where they take Crowley and Aziraphale’s relationship; I love the view of Hell in the first bit; I love all of it, really. A+++.)

38. Everyone But You – @summerofspock (M, the one where Crowley is hired to seduce an angel. M for some saucy makeouts and some post-coital afterglow but nothing explicit. If y’all like stories where a conman is hired to do a job and starts to have complicated feelings about it, especially if those feelings are falling in love with his mark, then here you go. It’s amazing as all heck and hilarious to boot; Crowley learning what falling in love is like is always a treat but omg. Poor Aziraphale. And the most DELIGHTFUL resolution, my goodness.)

39. In Mixed Company, or the Corporate Retreat of Heaven and Hell – @theoldaquarian (M, the one where Heaven and Hell have a joint corporate retreat every so often and Crowley and Aziraphale are doomed. M for some adult themes but nothing explicit. Y’all. TheOldAquarian must be stopped. They cannot continue to be so funny and engaging. They cannot continue to have the most corporate and hilariously mundane depiction of Heaven and Hell. They are a MENACE who, in the space of one fic, has packed all the pining of the ages in so tightly that when it finally bursts free, my shoulders physically relaxed and my spine uncoiled. This fic in particular is too much and too wonderful. I really must protest.)

40. Loosely Ballroom – marginalia_device, @mortifyingideal (T, the one where Aziraphale is a professional dancer and Crowley is a contestant on a show with him (for American viewers, think Dancing With the Stars). This fic is so good and so funny and so achingly in-character. I love Crowley as the washed-up old star trying to kick his career back up, I love Aziraphale as the put-upon dancer on his last legs, and I love that they’re both the victim of a studio gimmick and then decide that malicious compliance is their best bet. It’s still early in the fic (���at over 40k words wow it’s gonna be a monster and I’m ready), but it’s going to be so good already, I can just tell. There’s already some art for it floating around by naniiebimworks for the interested.)

JUST SOFT

41.  Repeat the Sounding Joy – @allonsy-gabriel (G, the one where they decorate a Christmas tree. This is a short and sweet look at what the holidays are like for an angel and a demon post-apocalypse and it’s so adorable, you guys. Crowley having FEELINGS and Aziraphale being fussy about his decorating, it’s just a treat.)

42. The Nesting Habits of Angelus Principalum – @obaewankenope (NR, the one where Aziraphale nests and is gently protective. This fic is quiet and understated and so unbelievably romantic without being over the top about it; it’s a quiet coming together that creeps up on you, much like how the realization of Aziraphale’s nesting habits creeps up on Crowley. A lovely little thing.)

43. we’ll get there fast and then we’ll take it slow – @tonyhawksmovingcastle (E, the one where Crowley and Aziraphale wind up faking a relationship on a couple’s cruise. E for Chapter 7, which is completely skippable without ruining any plot. This one gets a double whammy for both engaging plot and wonderful OCs that add to rather than distract from the story. Fake dating is fun enough but when you’re fake dating and also being wingmanned by well-meaning possibly supernatural sapphics, while also having fun in the tropics, it’s a recipe for a good time all around (at least for the audience). So lovely and sweet and that moment when Crowley and Aziraphale finally get together is magic.)

44. Road Trip Games and Love – rgfalso (T, the one where Crowley and Aziraphale go on a road trip together. This one almost takes place in real time, and has the most intense and emotional back-and-forth while these poor saps try to work out the Thing between them without actually talking about it for as long as inhumanly possible. Of course there are lots of road trip games, and of course those road trip games are a vehicle of conveyance for what they’re actually trying to say, and cue all the misunderstandings in the world. It’s frustrating and cathartic and amazing and the end especially is so, so sweet.)

45. The Most Stylish Wedding of AZ Fell and AJ Crowley – @leapoffaith1489 (T, the one where Aziraphale is determined to discard tartan for the wedding. Y’all. Omg. If relatively low-stakes cute wedding shenanigans are your thing, welcome home. If Aziraphale being pleasantly surprised is your thing, welcome home. If Aziraphale working through minor insecurities is your thing, welcome, truly, home. Featuring a lovely cast of side characters and a soft-as-butter plot.)

46. The Newlywed Game (Not What You’d Think) – @heavenslittlehellion (NR, the one where a game of drunken truth-telling goes a little farther than anticipated. Hello, welcome to the emotional gut-punch fic, you’ve arrived. The only thing that saves this from dunking into the last category on this list with the other h/c and whump fics is how low-stakes it is and how soft it is when they get past the unpleasant bit. People who love theories on what the Fall felt like, welcome to the table.)

47. On the Road to Love – Mizmak (G, the one where Crowley enters a motor rally race with the Bentley, with Aziraphale as navigator. While there’s great fun in Crowley and Aziraphale needling each other, there’s greater joy in their friendship and tenderness towards the other (and asexual bed-sharing fans, rejoice). It’s a fun concept all around and definitely worth the read.)

48. Mr. Fell’s Bookshop ficlets – @holycatsandrabbits (G, T, the series where Mr. Fell has regular customers and they love the place as much as they love its weird and eldritch owner. For folks who love seeing the Ineffable Duo through others’ eyes, this is a fun series to scratch that particular itch, and has spawned a number of spin-off fics, unless I’m mistaken. It’s a relatively low-stakes series, for people wanting something like that these days, too.)

49. Quiet Reflection – @shinyopals (T, the one where they have to duck into a church to avoid demons. If the phrase “spicy Jesus crackers” holds any appeal whatsoever, go read this fic immediately. It’s heartfelt and hilarious and really that’s all you can ask for in a good fluff fic. Also Crowley being held. Really, that’s all any of us want from life.)

50. Deck the Halls – forthegreatergood (G, the one where mistletoe should really not be this hard to get a hold of. Y’all you simply MUST stick around for the hijinks in this one. They are manifold and hilarious. Does it end in makeouts? Possibly. You’ll just have to read it, won’t you?)

51.  The Secret Dress – GlitterSkullFairy (G, the one where Crowley has a secret wedding dress. This one is very dramatic and sad…and then Aziraphale pops in. Like with all things concerning these two, it immediately takes a turn from there. If putting Crowley in pretty dresses is a thing you enjoy, have a seat and enjoy the show, it’s a softy.)

52. Well…That’s New – @almaasi (G, the one where Crowley doesn’t realize he’s in love. If oblivious Crowley is more to your taste, this is the one for you. Takes the concept “what if Crowley was in love but didn’t realize it” and runs with it for all it’s worth. Hilarious and sweet and wonderful.)

53. serpent, serpent-bearer – @elsajeni (G, the one that’s about horoscopes. I realize the Soft section of the rec list is for things that are Soft but hhnnngkk you guys. This one is so cute. My heart can’t take it. They’re so gosh darned precious, with their newspaper and their horoscopes and their welcome invasion of each other’s personal space.)

54. If Only You Were Mine – @somethingscarlet13 (G, the one where Crowley gets so drunk he can’t remember who Aziraphale’s husband is, just that he’s married. This is a little sugar shot for your day, folks—short, sweet, silly, and did I mention sweet? It is so worth having a giggle at drunk Crowley’s expense, please do read it.)

55. Cupboard Love – @copperplatebeech (T, the one where Crowley is a cranky snek. I would also highly recommend this for folks who enjoy Madam Tracy, especially Madam Tracy being utterly unaffected by being face-to-face with the supernatural and cooing over things like the wonderful lady she is. Fun and a little silly and a lot adorable.)

56. affirmation, appreciation – pearlwaldorf (G, the one where Aziraphale helps someone in need a little differently than expected. This one has Aziraphale taking on the persona of an interested male party looking to pick up the spirits of a woman on the tail end of a messy divorce and Crowley understanding but still getting a little jealous. It’s so sweet and so lovely, both what Aziraphale and Crowley do for this poor woman and how Aziraphale reassures Crowley afterwards. Top notch.)

57. Forget-Me-Not – @dietraumerei (T, the one where Crowley gets amnesia. Not as dramatic as others, he just loses 200 years and it’s temporary, but it’s ever so sweet, watching Crowley fall back in love with the modern world and be gobsmacked that he and Aziraphale are finally together. There’s a lot of reassurance and tender sweet nothings thrown about and I’m pretty sure I developed a heart condition just from reading this, it’s too good.)

58. They Shake The Mountains When They Dance – @copperbadge (T, the one where Crowley finds Aziraphale’s scar. Operating on the theory that Aziraphale was injured in the War in Heaven and that’s why he clutches his leg and limps when he’s discorporated, this is the sappiest, sweetest rumination on the subject I have ever read. Crowley gets so protective and defensive, and Aziraphale is so gentle in talking him down. On the whole, it’s just wonderful and so, so cute. Omg.)

59. Familiar Care – ginger_mosaic (G, the one where the Ineffable Dads have to take their snabies in for medical help. This comes from the Wiggleverse, which on the whole I cannot strongly recommend enough, but this fic in particular centers around the most delightful OC veterinarian who handles Crowley and Aziraphale’s strange family very well. There’s also a fun twist at the end, so absolutely keep reading to find out what that is. And also, immerse yourself in adorable snake baby shenanigans, because they are the best sort.)

TOUCH-STARVED/BODY WORSHIP/WINGS

60. Rituals (or the Seven Layer Bean Dip Approach to Sex) – SleepySelfLoathing (T, the one where no seriously metaphysical angel/demon sex is super weird. Fans of truly esoteric ethereal/occult mating rituals rejoice, for this is your new home. It’s abstract but no less beautiful for it, I think; the imagery and emotional accompaniment are all lovely, even if they don’t meet conventional human romance standards. You can really tell that it means a lot to Crowley and Aziraphale, the ways they show how much they love each other. A weird and delectable little dish, by all accounts.)

61.  Under Pressure – @copperplatebeech (M, the one where Crowley steals kisses. M for sensuality and body worship but nothing too explicit; also could be construed as dubcon kissing, for those of you sensitive to that. Hhhgkk y’all. Crowley thinks he’s being sly getting away with smooching Aziraphale throughout history while they’re both drunk off their rockers but does not count on Aziraphale actually remembering, and then once the Apocalypse is done with and they’re On Their Own Side and Can Aknowledge These Things…well. They do. Crowley is a mess and Aziraphale is a mess and they love each other so much. The writing is so tender and I’m CRYING.)

62. London Calling – forthegreatergood (G, the one with slow-burn wing grooming. There’s so much crammed into this bad boy and it balances it admirably—Crowley’s relationship with Aziraphale, Crowley’s relationship with Hell, Crowley thinking about retirement, Crowley getting preemptively banned from a certain European country for being a pest outside of its consulate, Crowley losing his cool over getting to touch Aziraphale’s wings. Humor, aching tenderness, the kind of longing that feels like a high, quavering violin note, tension and release. A beautiful piece.)

63. Elmie’s Ineffable Fireplace Fics – @almaasi (G, M, M, the series that is completely unrelated except for the physical and also figurative appearances of warm fireplaces. M for sensuality but nothing explicit. The first two are mainly short fluff; the third is a long Regency-esque AU with some gender and sexuality shenanigans on top of Real Danger and Intrigue. True to the writer’s promise, all three fics are pretty comfortable and warm, even if the third has some action and tension. They’re absolutely lovely, imo.)

64. The Hands Applauded (And This Was No Sin) – @ticketybye (G, the one where Crowley as a preoccupation with Aziraphale’s hands. Deals with both touch-starvation and touch-aversity in the same fic and weirdly enough it works. The fic is heartbreaking but it has a good resolution and that’s important.)

65. Moult – @sameoldsorceress (T, the one where Aziraphale molts and Crowley doesn’t. This is typical wing-grooming fare…right up until it isn’t. I won’t spoil the twist but rest assured that there is absolutely a twist. Other than that, it’s supportive and sweet and lovely and lord knows we all could use some of that right now.)

66. never get to heaven on a night like this – RestlessWanderings (G, the series where the Ineffable Wives are touch-starved and pining. The only reason this fic goes here instead of in Jaunts Through History is because especially in Crowley’s side of the story, the touch starvation is so horrifically visceral I very nearly bought myself a weighted blanket out of sympathy stress. They are both so afraid and so desperate for a bit of connection, the pining is absolutely ridiculous. And it helps that there’s worldbuilding there that’s both thematically appropriate and interesting to read. Engendered by lesbianism and catholic guilt, I believe the author said, and in this case what a delicious combination with an absolutely amazing ending.)

67. Strength in Modesty – flandersmare (T, the one where Aziraphale has a secret wardrobe. Y’all. I have a special love-hate relationship with clothes and my body and this fic somehow felt very soothing on both of those fronts. Corsetry is front and center, and it’s all very well-researched and well-presented. The story is so quiet and understated and is really told through excellent sensory details. The ending about broke my heart for tenderness. It’s a double love letter to Aziraphale and to fashion throughout history and I love it.)

BONUS

68. Tales of the Them – @lyricwritesprose (G, the series where Crowley and Aziraphale are the Them’s godparents, too. This is such a fun series, with a lot of stories that are not just funny in bits, but also meaningful. For fans of the Them and people who like stories about children that aren’t dumbed-down or grimdark.)

69. Stans in High Places – @doomed-spectacles (G, the one where there’s someone in the Earth Observation department keeping an eye on Crowley and Aziraphale. Another take on the angel(s) in charge of Earth Observation, this time featuring a singular angel called Grigori, and boy is he a cutie. His friendship with fellow angel Pravuil is also blossoming and sweet throughout, and the amount of innocent cuteness throughout is just spectacular. What an adorable story.)

70. Anthony J Crowley, Retired Demon and AirBnB Superhost – @theoldaquarian (G, the one where Crowley turns his flat into an AirBnB. Told as if reading a comment section, it is hilarious and paints a horrid picture of what interacting with Crowley—and Aziraphale!—is like for normal humans. I can’t give you any more details than that, you are just going to have to read it and laugh your head off about it like I did.)

71.  A Guide to Fame for the Enterprising Demon – @asideofourown (T, the one where Crowley writes a book and accidentally becomes a queer icon. This is…so funny. And so sweet. And like most fics where human bystanders try to piece together what’s happening and come away with completely wrong conclusions, it’s utterly charming. You almost start rooting for the internet conspiracy theorists trying to unearth what exactly Crowley is from his (presumably) evasive or strange answers to interview questions.)

72. Hell Of An Angel – WaitingToBeBroken (T, the one where everyone thinks Crowley is a mafia family. This one is funny in a dramatic irony way; the way that every narrator in this is CONVINCED that Crowley is A. a family of redheads that all look eerily similar, and B. extremely dangerous, is entertaining all on its own. It helps that the writing is smooth and the characters are all fairly engaging, too. A fun little diversion for your day.)

H/C /WHUMP/BAMF

73. the only one i want – @qorktrees (T,  the one where Crowley needs some convincing. The hurt in this one is real, folks. But so is the comfort. At last steps are taken to assure Crowley of how much he is wanted, of how much his love is cherished and his touch desired. If you cry while reading this, congrats and welcome to the club, we are all miserable touch-starved fools here.)

74. Always One More Time – boughofawillowtree (T, the one where Aziraphale has remaining psychological scars from Heaven. This one is tough, y’all, real tough. Aziraphale has a couple of abusive flashbacks and intrusive thoughts and his anxiety flaring up is a constant, so people sensitive to that should take heed. That said, this is a very healing fic, with a lot of underlying hurt that floats to the surface. But throughout Crowley does his best to be patient and understanding and even with a disagreement, it remains gentle and loving throughout.)

75. Smote and smitten – @nohaijiachi (G, the one where Aziraphale is a badass and we are ALL here for it. Screaming Hastur, briefly-sentient flaming swords, Aziraphale being amazing, and starry-eyed Crowley are all the ingredients chosen to make a wonderful little fic, and we are all grateful for it. What a guy, that Aziraphale.)

76. Nearly Romeo and Juliet – bisexual_dumbass (T, the one where Crowley’s hiding his panic attacks. This one hurts, friends. This one has miscommunications and fear and boundary communication, all while being so tense even the gentlest touch will snap something. It’s got learning to take care of yourself and value yourself and live FOR yourself. It is very important and I hope a lot of you read it because gosh dang.)

77.  Pigeon Girlfriends With A Long Preamble – SleepySelfLoathing (T, the one that’s exactly what it says on the tin. This fic has it all: humor! Torture! Terrible humans! Wrathful Aziraphale! Pain and suffering! Tenderness and care! Pigeon girlfriends! The Hurt and the Comfort are present in about equal measure, but fair warning that what Crowley is made to do just before his rescue is more than a little disturbing, both to readers and especially to Crowley.)

[alexa-lightwood-blog]

Can I make a request? I was wondering if you could do head canons or something where Crowley (and Aziraphale if its not too much) from good omens, their human girlfriend had to go on a business trip last minute and left their pet Guinea pig in their care? 😂 I have a Black (with burnt orange markings) guinea pig named Cinder and last week I left her with my aunt. I may have forgotten to mention that Cinder can open her cage door, climb stairs, and open food bags when she wishes 🤣

There was no alternative. You were faced with a choice that, quite frankly, terrified you.

Okay, maybe you were being a tad melodramatic but this was your baby, well your guinea pig that you would be leaving. Work had decided to whisk you away with but a moment's notice and the only person who you could turn to was your boyfriend.

Crowley:

Concern, much concern on your part, you knew about his more serpentine nature and worried about how he would cope with Cinder. Sure it was only temporary, a day or two at most but still...

You were surprised at just how quickly Crowley had agreed, and with minimal protesting. That may have been partially to do with the fact that you had handed him Cinders’ cage and supplies before bolting out of the door, leaving him no time to change his mind.

Now what you hadn’t done, in your haste, was mention some of Cinders’, well, quirks as you would put it. This led to a phone call at about 2′o’clock in the morning which your tired brain could barely comprehend. Cinder had apparently grown bored of being in her cage and decided to visit her new friend, which meant opening the cage door and climbing the stairs to Crowley’s room.

Now whilst Crowley didn’t need sleep per se, he still liked to doze which meant that he had been totally unprepared to find a guinea pig mere inches from his face. Deciding that no sudden movements was the best way to go, he had slowly moved to phone you.

Upon your return you found Crowley sat next to the cage, reading a large herbology book to Cinder, every so often slipping a piece of carrot or two through the bars to Cinder who had huddled next to him by the bars.

Needless to say you were surprised but pleasantly so, making a mental note to ask Crowley to guinea-pig sit more often.

Aziraphale:

Reluctant at best you were most concerned about Cinder causing Aziraphale trouble by escaping her cage.

Being the sweetheart that he is there was no hesitation at the opportunity to help you out, You apologised profusely for the inconvenience but Az would hear nothing of it, only ushering you through the door so you wouldn’t be late.

All was well, at first, Aziraphale waited on Cinder and her every whim, keeping to your exact schedule.

But, it took about three hours for him to begin giving her extra treats, miracling little toys and trinkets for her amusement. All was well, until night time.

Aziraphale had retired to his room, leaving Cinder alone in the cage. Now you had been quickly ushered from the apartment so you couldn’t really tell him about the havoc that Cinder would wreak if left unchecked so cue the Angel’s utmost confusion at hearing scuffling on the floor outside his room, followed by a loud ripping sound.

Going to investigate he found Cinder happily perched on a mound of seeds and food pellets looking almost smugly at the cage door hanging open.

Well, it’s safe to say that he was hesitant to turn his back on the ball of mischief from that moment onward.

When you returned, tired from your travels, you had been pleased to find the cutest scene before you, Az and Cinder sat together on the floor of the living room, an array of guinea pig toys surrounding them. Aziraphale was most confused as to why you were adamant to take a photo before the two moved.

You were even more pleased when Aziraphale began to ask to watch over Cinder more often, even when you were not out of town on business. The only downside was Cinders minor weight gain from Aziraphale’s treats.

[tiredandineffable]

The Company I’m Keeping

Summary: 1985. Les Mis has opened its doors for the first time in London and Crowley was not prepared for Aziraphale's post-musical rant about the character of Eponine during the walk home. Sort of part of the 666 challenge (write a fic in 666 words), but using a prompt from tiptoe39's prompt list on Tumblr.

.................

This isn’t how Crowley had really planned for the night to go.

Aziraphale had always been sentimental about his books and he’d really adored this one, for some reason. Crowley never quite understood it. The angel was the absolute inverse of every major character he adored in Les Miserables, indulgent and petty to a fault. Here was a being who nearly got discorporeated in the very same revolution for wanting crepes, of all things, waxing poetic over les amis as if he could have been one of them. It frustrates Crowley to no end.

But Aziraphale had been miserable these past few weeks and Crowley really couldn’t stand to hear him whine any longer. So Crowley bought the tickets despite knowing very little of the plot or of how musicals worked in general. If it took him sitting through multiple hours of melodramatic singing to fix Aziraphale’s sour mood, then so be it.

Maybe if he’d read the book he would have been better prepared for the utterly unfair conversation Aziraphale was insisting on having on the walk back home.

“Miss Ruffelle portrays the heartbreak so well. It felt just as real as it did every time I read it,” Aziraphale sighed as they walked along the dark London streets. The starlight of a million London windows filters in through the leaves of the trees in St James’ Park, reflecting on wet cobblestones and in the angel’s still watery eyes. Crowley bites his tongue. I think of him and then I’m happy with the company I’m keeping.

“Despite the whole novel being a tragedy, Eponine’s story contains no mercies. To risk everything for a man who will never know how much he meant to you,” he continues, and the angel looks as if he’s on the verge of tears again for what feels like the third time that night while Crowley is about one misplaced word away from snapping.

“That’s life sometimes, angel,” Crowley grits out. “Don’t always get what you want.”

“But what Victor Hugo did to her character was cruel, Crowley, you must admit. To have her want something so dearly that she can’t have. I had told him as much while he was writing it, but he never was the sort to take advice. Too hard headed for his own good, and too blind to see what he’d truly done to Eponine,” Aziraphale says with a sigh before looking wistfully down at his feet. “Thank you for taking me to see it, dear. I needed the break.”

The angel smiles at that, looking back up to meet Crowley’s gaze, and its so filled with fondness that Crowley wonders…

Though I know it’s only in my mind.

“It just...reading the book and, now, seeing it performed always makes me wonder if this is how humans are every day. Walking around without knowing how much they are loved.”

And although I know that he is blind, still I say, there’s a way for us.

“You’re being a sap.” It comes out a touch more accusatory than Crowley had intended it to. He’s bitter and itching to do so many things that he knows he’ll regret. “Really don’t think Hugo put that much thought into it. He just wrote a love triangle like everyone else does. Besides, people are stupid. Love could hit them with a bulldozer and they wouldn’t know.”

“How could one be surrounded by a love so strong and have not the faintest idea of its presence or source?” Aziraphale asks. The tone is incredulous, beginning for an answer as if Crowley had not prayed for one for centuries. “How could Marius not have known?”

“Somehow you managed it.”

Wait. Shit.

Aziraphale looks up suddenly, eyes a little wide and oh God Crowley really has done it, hasn’t he?

“What do you mean?”

He can’t hide it anymore. The light of a thousand city stars reflects off the pond. Crowley doesn’t miss the irony of the moment.

“I’m in love with you.”

[forlorn-kumquat]

your words like kisses on my skin - chapter three

Things came to a head on a dreary Tuesday morning.

Aziraphale was in the middle of wrapping up a book for a customer when he heard the bell over the door jingle loudly, the door itself smacking back into the wall before closing with a resounding crash.

“Aziraphale!” Crowley yelled, his voice shockingly loud in the quiet of the bookshop. “What the hell is the meaning of this?”

He came stomping up the the desk, radiating fury with every step. Aziraphale’s ‘store closing - everything must go’ sign that he’d convinced the shopkeeper next door to write was clutched in his hand, knuckles white with how hard he was gripping the paper. Aziraphale was honestly surprised it hadn’t torn in two.

“What the hell is the meaning of this?” he demanded a second time, just in case Aziraphale had misunderstood him the first time.

“I’m closing the bookshop,” Aziraphale told him.

After picking himself up off the floor the other day, he’d found himself staring at the bookshop like it was a prison, rather than the haven it had been for so long. The once-cozy shop felt like it was closing in on him, the books mocking him from their shelves. He felt trapped, and the only thing he could think was that he had to do something to make the feeling stop.

“You’re not closing anything,” Crowley said, glaring at him. He glared at the customer, too, snatching the book the woman was about to buy out of her hands. “This is not for sale. None of it’s for sale. Now get out.”

The customer squeaked, eyes going wide, and then she turned and bolted out the shop. Aziraphale sighed as he watched her leave.

“You can’t scare away all my customers,” he told Crowley. “I’ll never sell all these books if you do.”

“You’re not selling any of these books!” Crowley yelled, waving a hand at the shelves for emphasis. Behind him, the bell jingled softly as the door cracked open, and Crowley whipped his head around to stare down the unsuspecting customer. “Shop’s closed!” he barked, and the customer vanished so quickly that Aziraphale almost suspected Crowley of getting rid of him with magic.

“This is my store,” Aziraphale said, with what he thought was extraordinary patience, “and I’ll do with it what I like. And what I’d like is to sell all my books and close up. Permanently.”

(He didn’t; he wanted his words back, wanted to find a way to explain to Crowley what was really going on, wanted to feel like his life wasn’t spinning out of control, but he wasn’t going to get what he wanted.)

Crowley stared at him in astonishment. “But-but you love your bookshop,” he said, confused.

“Things change,” Aziraphale said, forcing a lightness into his voice that he didn’t feel. “I was getting tired of all the clutter, all the books, so I decided to make a change.”

“Are you leaving London?” Crowley asked, softly, a strange note in his voice.

“Perhaps,” Aziraphale replied, even though he frankly had no idea what he was going to do. “Change is good for the soul, after all, and I think I’ve rather been stagnating here in London all these years. It’ll be nice to get away.”

“Get away from London?” Crowley asked, still in that overly-careful tone. “Or get away from me?”

For a second Aziraphale didn’t understand, although it couldn’t have been any clearer what Crowley was asking. When he got it, he was speechless as he stared at Crowley, trying to figure out how to explain.

Unfortunately, Crowley took his silence entirely the wrong way. Nodding stiffly, he handed the crumpled sign back to Aziraphale and then turned on his heel and started toward the door. “My apologies for the intrusion, angel,” he said, his voice cold, clipped, barely recognizable. “Good luck on your book sale. Maybe we’ll catch up in a century or two.”

Aziraphale was frozen as he watched Crowley open the door, disappearing out onto the sidewalk, and then something in him broke free, the numbness replaced swiftly by an overwhelming sense of panic. Lunging toward the door, a strangled cry ripped from his throat, he threw himself outside the shop.

“Crowley!” he cried, his voice catching on a sob. “Crowley, wait!”

He looked around wildly, but he didn’t see a shock of bright red hair anywhere. He was too late, Crowley was gone. He’d already lost his books, and now he’d lost the one last good thing in his life - no, he hadn’t lost Crowley, he’d driven him away, and he would never see Crowley again, he was going to be alone-

He buried his face in his hands as he stumbled backward, but he never hit the wall of his shop. Instead, a pair of warm hands wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him gently forward into an embrace. He buried his face into Crowley’s shoulder, shaking, tears spilling from his eyes as he clung tightly to the front of his shirt.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out. “I’m so sorry, please don’t leave me-”

“Shh,” Crowley murmured into his hair. “I’m not going anywhere, angel.”

“I’m sorry,” Aziraphale repeated, his voice thick with tears. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“I’m sorry, too; I shouldn’t have walked out like that.” Leaning back just slightly, he tugged Aziraphale downward. “Here, sit down.”

Aziraphale lifted his head long enough to realize that they were back in his shop, that Crowley must have steered them inside while he was having his breakdown. He let Crowley urge him down onto the couch he kept in the back room, reaching for him again as soon as they were both sitting. Crowley wrapped him up in his arms again, one hand running soothingly up and down his back, and Aziraphale tried to get himself back under some semblance of control.

“What’s going on, angel?” Crowley finally asked, when the silence between them had stretched on long enough. “You run out on me in the middle of lunch, I don’t hear from you for weeks, and now I find you closing your bookshop. And all you can tell me is that you want a change!”

Aziraphale opened his mouth to finally explain - but all that came out was a sob. His face felt hot and he struggled to breathe. Embarrassed, he buried his head in Crowley’s shoulder again, trying to keep himself from shaking apart with sheer panic.

“Slow, deep breaths, angel,” Crowley coached him.

“This is ridiculous,” Aziraphale managed to choke out. “I don’t even need to breathe.”

“Still helps,” Crowley countered. “Nice and slow, that’s it.”

With Crowley’s help, Aziraphale felt himself coming down from the adrenaline rush that had him wanting to jump out of his own skin. He sighed as he slumped more fully against Crowley, hot tears stinging his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he said, lifting his head just enough to look Crowley in the eye. If he said nothing else today, he had to say this. “I’m sorry for running out on lunch, I’m sorry for hurting you.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Crowley started, but Aziraphale shook his head.

“Yes, I do,” he argued. “It’s the least that I owe you. Along with an explanation.” He took a deep breath, trying to muster his courage. He didn’t know why it was so hard to get these words out; ironically, he thought, it would be easier if he was able to write his thoughts down, but that was impossible. “There’s something wrong with me, Crowley.”

“What is it, are you hurt?” Crowley’s grip around Aziraphale tightened protectively, and the angry gleam in his eyes suggested that he was ready to storm Heaven, or Hell, or wherever was responsible.

“Not hurt,” Aziraphale hastened to reassure him. “But, when Adam brought me back into my own body, something went wrong. I can’t-” Why was this so hard? He should just blurt it out and be done with it. “I can’t read, Crowley!”

It was hard to read Crowley’s eyes behind his dark sunglasses, but Aziraphale thought that he’d surprised him. He opened and closed his mouth several times, but no sound came out. Finally:

“Is that it?” he demanded, incredulous. “Christ, Aziraphale, I thought something was seriously wrong!”

Aziraphale reared back and stared at Crowley, too hurt to even chide him for his language. “Something is wrong,” he insisted, stung.

Pushing himself out of Crowley’s embrace, he got to his feet and stomped away. He felt foolish as soon as he’d done it, but that didn’t stop him from hunching his shoulders and wrapping his arms around his stomach when he heard Crowley coming up from behind him. He stiffened in anticipation of more mocking, but Crowley put a hesitant hand on his shoulder, his touch cautious like he thought it might not be welcome.

“I’m sorry, angel,” he said, quietly. “I wasn’t making fun, I promise. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded; I just thought it was something like Heaven or Hell coming after you.”

“Nothing like that,” Aziraphale said. Wrapping his arms tighter around his stomach, he mumbled, “It’s just so - so embarrassing. And painful. Books are one of my highest pleasures in life, or they were, and now they’re nothing. Might as well be toilet paper for all the use they are to me!”

Even he could admit to himself that he was being melodramatic at that point, but he couldn’t stop himself. Luckily, Crowley didn’t seem very inclined to point it out, either.

“It’s not embarrassing,” he said, instead. “I’m sure there are plenty of people who can’t read.”

“It’s not even that,” Aziraphale tried to explain. “When I look at words, nothing makes sense. Letters don’t look like letters - I’m not even sure I could tell what is and isn’t a letter, anymore. How am I supposed to run a bookshop when I can’t read any of the books I’ve got?” finally daring to turn around, he saw that Crowley still didn’t look convinced of his argument. “What if it was you?” he pressed, trying a different tactic. “What if you woke up one morning, and you couldn’t drive? If, when you looked at the Bentley, all you saw were random bits of metal and leather, and you couldn’t figure out what any of it did? What would you do?”

Crowley didn’t argue with him, only looked thoughtful for a minute. “That’s not the question I’d ask,” he finally said, looking at Aziraphale with a curious expression on his face. “The question I’d ask is: what would you do, if I came to you one morning and told you that I couldn’t drive any longer?”

“Well, I can drive,” Aziraphale told him, “and I would, for you, if you needed me-” He got it, suddenly, what Crowley was trying to say, and he frowned. “Well, that’s hardly the same thing.”

“Isn’t it?” Crowley asked, clearly expecting the question to be rhetoric, but Aziraphale wasn’t going to let it go.

“It is!” he insisted. “I can’t just ask you to drop everything and read to me whenever I want.”

“Why not?” Crowley countered, like that was the only argument he needed. “What better way to spend my time than with you?”

Aziraphale felt his jaw drop open as he stared at Crowley, but Crowley had already turned around and was headed back to the couch, clearly expecting Aziraphale to follow him. “Grab a book,” he called over his shoulder. “If you haven’t read anything in a month, I’d imagine you’re going a little stir-crazy, so let’s start now.”

He said it like it was really that simple, and Aziraphale dazedly grabbed the first book his fingers found and trailed after Crowley. Crowley had already made himself comfortable on the couch, lounging against the entire length. Aziraphale couldn’t figure out where Crowley meant him to sit until Crowley made a gesture, indicating that he intended for Aziraphale to stretch out on top of him, like they’d been lying just a few minutes earlier. Still tense, expecting some kind of rejection or mockery, Aziraphale carefully settled himself against Crowley’s chest, but Crowley simply wrapped his arms around him with a quiet sigh, just holding him for a moment.

After another moment, he reached for the book still dangling loosely in Aziraphale’s grip. “T.S. Eliot,” he said, an approving tone in his voice. “Going for the classics, I see.”

“Well it’s not like I can read the cover,” Aziraphale pointed out, chuckling weakly as the absurdity of the situation finally hit him. “It was just the first one I grabbed.” Crowley didn’t say anything to that; he just adjusted his grip so that he could hold onto both Aziraphale and the book. But before he could start reading, Aziraphale stopped him. “Crowley, wait.”

“Something wrong, angel?”

“If I’m being honest,” Aziraphale said, hesitantly, “I don’t want to start with Eliot. I want to start with that note you wrote me. The one you gave me at lunch,” he added, just in case there was any confusion. “I don’t know what it says, but it seemed very important to you. And I’d like to know what it said.”

Crowley actually flushed, his cheeks going bright pink. He pulled off his sunglasses to rub at his eyes, but then he didn’t put them back on, looking down at Aziraphale instead with brilliant yellow eyes.

“That note,” he said, carefully. “That, um, that wasn’t a note. Not exactly. It was a poem.” He looked away quickly as his face went an even deeper red, clearly avoiding Aziraphale’s eyes. “A love poem,” he mumbled, almost too quiet for Aziraphale to hear him.

And all of a sudden things started to make sense. The way Crowley had been nervous at lunch when he’d handed the paper over, his drunken rambling message on the machine- “You wrote me a love poem?” Aziraphale asked.

“It’s nothing,” Crowley said, trying to deflect, but Aziraphale wasn’t going to let him.

“It’s everything,” he insisted, reaching up to cup Crowley’s cheek, needing that extra point of contact. Crowley slowly turned his face back to look at him, anxiety clear in his eyes. “No one’s ever written me a love poem before,” Aziraphale told him. Another realization, and he winced at the memory. “When I ran away from lunch,” he said, “you must have thought I was rejecting you.”

“It had crossed my mind,” Crowley admitted, after a long moment.

“I would never!” Aziraphale protested, immediately. “I would like to hear your poem, though,” he added, softer. “If you’re still willing to share it.”

“Yeah,” Crowley said, his voice suspiciously hoarse, his eyes suspiciously shiny. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“I have it upstairs,” Aziraphale told him, but Crowley tightened his arms before he could get up.

“No need,” Crowley told him. “I remember what I wrote.” He cleared his throat, looking almost nervous.

“I built the stars onceBut they could never compare to your eyesThe galaxies are a pale imitation of your beauty.

I’ve spent a hundred thousand lifetimes falling in love with youI want to spend eternity by your sideSo that I can love you for a hundred thousand more.

I want to give you all the wonders of the worldBecause only they could hope to compareTo the way you make me feel.”

Aziraphale found himself transfixed by the way Crowley’s voice rose and fell in an almost-lyrical melody. He closed his eyes as he listened, letting the words, the love wash over him. He’d never felt more cherished than in that moment.

“I love it,” he murmured, quietly, when Crowley trailed off. “And I love you,” he added, looking Crowley in the eye. If Crowley could be brave enough, so could he. “I’ve loved you for so long.”

“Yeah?” Crowley asked, a cautiously hopeful smile on his face. When Aziraphale nodded, Crowley leaned down to kiss him, slow and sweet and full of promise. Full of love. “I hope you know you’re stuck with me, now,” Crowley quipped, after he finally, reluctantly pulled away.

“For eternity, I hope,” Aziraphale replied, echoing Crowley’s own words back at him. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[ineffably-good]

Changes (2/3)

Summary: In which a small, pet snake is determined to be faking his death, an angel's sleep is rudely disrupted, and Frederick makes peace with what he now knows about Crowley. 

Chapter one is here

..............................

Chapter 2

“What’s wrong with him?” Aziraphale shrieked as Frederick went limp in his hands. “Did he faint? Did he have a heart attack? Oh, Crowley, is he dead?”

Crowley shifted back to human form, shaking his head clear from the unpleasantly quick transition, and knelt over to peer at the motionless snake. He picked him up and laid him on the coffee table where he could take a closer look. The angel, near hysterics, snapped and called down a beam of heavenly light to illuminate the snake more clearly.

“No, I don’t think so,” the demon said after a moment. “He looks dead, but I feel like he’s breathing.”

“We broke him! We are the worst pet parents ever!” Aziraphale sobbed, clearly beginning to panic. His breath got faster and faster and he began to look unusually, frighteningly pale.

“Angel!” Crowley growled, putting some demonic anger into his voice in order to firmly get Aziraphale’s attention. He took an insistent hold of his shoulders and kept his voice forceful. “Calm. Down. You are NOT going to faint on me, are you? Because so help me, if you leave me with two unconscious drama queens, I am NOT going to handle it well!”

It had the desired effect, he noted – Aziraphale looked startled, then embarrassed, and then attempted to settle down a little. He didn’t seem to trust himself to speak, but instead waved his hand in a sorry-please-go-ahead fashion and stared at Frederick, clearly trying to still his wobbling lower lip.

“We did <i>not</i> break him,” Crowley said consolingly, laying a hand on Aziraphale’s knee. “I think he’s just being a little dramatic.”

Aziraphale frowned for a moment. “You mean…”

“Some snakes play dead when they face a big, overwhelming threat,” Crowley said. “Makes predators think they’ve been poisoned or something, so they won’t eat them. In this case, makes their owners feel bad. Either way, it’s a win for the snake.”

Aziraphale took a deep and calming breath and looked at Frederick consideringly. “He’s just scared,” he breathed, wonderingly. “I think I read about that in one of the snake books…”

“Fred, my friend,” Crowley cooed softly. “I’m <i>not</i> going to eat you. Also, I know damn well you’re not dead.”

Frederick resolutely ignored them both and continued to do his best corpse impression.

“He won’t,” Aziraphale confirmed helpfully, “eat you, that is. I promise. He barely eats anything.”

Crowley rolled his eyes at this super helpful interjection.

Read the rest on AO3 or continue by clicking below!

“I wouldn’t eat you even if I <i>did</i> eat. It’s just that when I was made, I was made a serpent in form, and something else on the inside” Crowley said. “Actually, I’m THE serpent. The first one in all the world.” He touched Frederick gently on his belly scales and petted him. “You were made in my image, so to speak.”

Frederick moved a tiny fraction of an inch.

“Think of me as your big brother,” Crowley said. “At least, when I’m in that form. We can--” he scrambled for words, “--hang out. Do snake things.”

Aziraphale gave him a dubious look. Really? Hang out?

Crowley mimed a shrug. What? I’m trying.

Frederick lifted his head a half centimeter before flopping back down with his best dramatic shiver, but he snuck an appraising look at Crowley as he did so.

“Oh, you melodramatic, manipulative little noodle,” Aziraphale said in intense relief, picking him up and holding him to his chest. “You’re fine. You know no one here is going to eat you.”

Frederick sighed and slithered a tongue out, tentatively.

I MIGHT FEEL BETTER IF SOMEONE WOULD GIVE ME A MOUSICLE, he thought.

Crowley again frowned for a moment, then shook his head and hopped up to his feet. He headed back to the kitchen. “Let’s give him a mouse and let him take it out on something smaller than him. He just needs time to think it over.”

Frederick hissed in relief as they placed him back in his cage and began to work on swallowing his treat. At least he was bigger than <i>one</i> creature in this strange place.

 ..

<i>Do I have wings?</i> Frederick thought later that night. That would certainly even the playing field a little bit. If the huge snake had wings some of the time, he didn’t see why he shouldn’t be able to manifest some too. He curled up and concentrated as powerfully as he could, wriggling his back a little bit, and tried his hardest to make some big, black and red wings unfold out of his back. To his disappointment, nothing happened. No pop, no poof, no whoomph of air.

He curled around and investigated his back. Just scales. Scales from tip to tail.

Apparently, he thought disconcertedly, the fluffy one could be fluffy or could be a bird, the pointy one could be his usual pointy self or a bird <i>or</i> a snake, which just seemed a little excessive and show-off-y now that he thought about it, and he, well he was just – just a small, black snake with no special powers.

This hardly seemed fair.

He settled down to sulk about it until morning.

 **

Crowley laid in bed that night unable to drift off. He turned to Aziraphale, who had gotten rather noticeably better at this sleeping thing all of a sudden, and reached over to gently fluff his pillow. Then he fluffed it a little harder. Then, when that failed to work, he pulled it out from underneath the angel entirely.

“Wha-?” said Aziraphale, coming to rather quickly.

“Oh?” Crowley said, the picture of innocence. “You’re up? Oh good.”

Aziraphale frowned at him, not fooled in the least. “You needed something?” he said flatly.

“I was just wondering,” Crowley said, aware that he was about to sound a little crazy, “if you ever get the feeling that Frederick is trying to tell you something.”

Aziraphale blinked. “Well certainly, my dear. He communicates quite well with his coils and his posture and the state of his fangs and all the various noises and facial expressions he makes –”

“No, no,” Crowley said, “that’s not what I mean at all. I mean, I feel like he’s actually talking to me sometimes.”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale said firmly, “you’ve been watching too much Harry Potter. Go to sleep. There’s no such thing as parseltongue.”

Crowley swatted Aziraphale’s arm semi-gently. “Very funny. But I’m serious. I’m starting to hear words sometimes when he looks at me.”

“Such as?”

“Well, today I had the strongest sensation that someone said ‘oh for fuck’s sake’ when you first told him I needed to show him something.”

Aziraphale made a sound that was halfway between a snort and a laugh. “You must be imagining it! Besides, Frederick wouldn’t curse.”

Crowley fixed Aziraphale with a flat, disbelieving look. “Have you <i>met</i> him?”

“All right, point conceded,” the angel said. “He is rather a grump. But honestly, is that possible?”

“I’m not sure,” Crowley said. “But it happened a couple times today.”

Aziraphale pulled Crowley into a loose hug. “We can experiment tomorrow and see. For now, will you please just go to sleep?”

Crowley let himself be lulled into the night, at least for a while.

++

Crowley woke up early the next morning – well early for a demon, which was near lunch time for most of the rest of London. Nonetheless, it was early enough to feel almost virtuous, a thought that made him consider diving back under the covers for another hour or two. He managed to fight it off. He slithered into his clothes and headed down the stairs to see what mischief he could cause.

Aziraphale was out, to his chagrin, but had left a note on the desk that he was attending to some business in Notting Hill and would be back after lunch. Crowley, with nothing better to do, pulled an armchair over into a sunny spot. He then gathered up Frederick’s reed basket, in which he was currently snoring, and sat down with the basket in his lap.

“Oi, snake,” he said softly, “wake up.”

Frederick roused himself with a hiss of surprise and then looked up at Crowley with a bit of alarm in his eyes. Sure, he was person-sized right now, but would he stay that way? He still wasn’t one hundred percent sure what he thought about all of this. His emotions were at war between worried and impressed, between fearful and intensely jealous. He stared at Crowley and kept his mind blank, flickering his tongue out nonchalantly to cover for his nerves.

Crowley leaned down and fixed him with a gaze. “We okay, then, buddy? Still friends?”

Frederick took a long moment to consider the pros and cons of various answers to that question. If he refused to be okay with Crowley, he’d probably get lots of extra attention from the fluffy one for a while. It would be lovely to be coddled and pampered and overindulged for a few weeks. Plus, it was always enjoyable to lord it over the pointy guy when <i>he</i> was the one being petted and fussed over by Aziraphale. That was tempting, to be sure.

However, if he made peace, he could gain the unique opportunity to hang out with a really, REALLY big snake. And, given certain assurances that no one was going to be eating anyone else, that could be pretty interesting. He could learn some things he didn’t know right now, like how to better bring down the next bird he tussled with, and what to do about the fact that his scales itched sometimes, and what it meant to be venomous versus poisonous. (Was he either? Frederick had no idea, so he blithely assumed he was both.) Plus, the pointy one obviously had some magical powers, after all, and who knew if he couldn’t fulfill Frederick’s fondest wish, if he so chose – for wings of his own? It was possible.  

Frederick steeled himself to act nicely for a moment. He uncoiled to the top rim of the basket, made eye contact with Crowley, and booped his hand with his forehead in a conciliatory manner.

“All right, Frederick, good decision!” Crowley said, looking pleased. “Because you and I have a <i>lot</i> to talk about.”

++

When Aziraphale came home two hours later, he was startled to find not one but two snakes in his bookshop, curled up together by the right-hand shop window, angled exactly right to bring the sun directly down onto them, bathing their scales in a soft, golden glow. Crowley was pooled up in various loops on the armchair with a few hanging off of it down to the ground, and curled up in the midst of the pile was Frederick, happily snoring away with his head coiled over part of Crowley’s back and his eyes gently unfocused.

“Well I see you two made up,” Aziraphale said wryly, just to cover the way that his heart was almost bursting at the sight.

Crowley-the-snake focused his gaze on him and hissed quietly. “S-s-s-s-sh,” he said. “He’s s-s-s-s-s-leeping.”

“I can see that,” Aziraphale said, fondly. “You two are adorable.”

“Not adorable. We’re s-s-s-snakes.”

“Ah, well,” Aziraphale said, “we’re going to have to disagree on that one.”

He leaned down and laid a kiss on the top of Crowley’s coils, cast one more fond look at his little Frederick happily snoring away with his new friend, and went off to put his things away.

“No pictures-s-s-s-s,” Crowley called after him. “I mean it.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Aziraphale replied airly, with absolutely no intention of adhering to that particular edict. This was, of course, too good to miss. He just needed to wait until they both settled back down again.

Whole work (and a lot more, including Frederick’s origin story, available on AO3!

[itslmdee]

11/11/11 Tag Game

Thanks to @zmlorenz for the tag!

 1.        NaNoWriMo. Yes or no? And why? Maybe this year. I've done it before. I sometimes 'win'. When I didn't have a main plot but did a rebel NaNoWriMo and worked on short pieces I did not win. I'd like to because I'm behind on my Get Your Words Out count for the year. But I'm away next week and will miss a couple of NaNoWriMo days and while I've got a plot I've been toying with for a couple of years I've not pinned down all the details. (Why is naming people so difficult!) I did sign up at the site to keep my options open this year.

2.       Do you write better with or without pressure? (ex. word wars) I do somewhat better with a deadline/excuse to write, so I do a lot of things like hurt/comfort bingo, trope bingo, Whumptober. But too much pressure and I fall in a heap and don't write any words!

3.    How much romance do you usually write into your WIP(s)? Depends. Sorceress Apprentice is a romantic fantasy so a lot, but WRE is more supernatural drama and Romaine's asexual – and El has a lot of dating disasters – so not much, though Kit would like to bond with El and Romaine both in some way.

4.    What colour do you associate with each of your main characters? Sorceress Apprentice – Emeri wears a lot of black, it suits his flair for being melodramatic. Bryony likes blues and greens so I guess I'll choose a deep blue like her love for ocean. I don't really know for the others, Romaine also tends toward black because it is practical, El likes red.

5.     If you had to live where your characters live, how would you like it? There is no wifi in Sorceress Apprentice so ok to visit but not to live! Romaine lives on the English-Welsh border and that's not my dream place to live, that honour belongs to the South West of England, Devon and Cornwall!

6.     Are there any characters you’re afraid people will ship when your WIP(s) is/are published? People will ship. There's nothing you can do about that. I'd like it if Romaine was allowed to be asexual still because there's some good fic with QPRs and nonsexual romances out there, but more important to me is that Bryony and Emeri, and El is now siding that way, are childfree. We have so few childfree characters that it would be nice if people didn't feel the need to say "but it's not happy if they're not having BABBIES" and writing lots of fic where the characters change this core part of themselves.

7.  What’s a name you want to use for a character but haven’t yet? Did I mention naming is hard? I'm always trying to find the perfect name. I've got a list of names I like but I don't think I've been holding one back for the right character.

8. Do you write to make art or to entertain your audience? Because it lets me explore who I am, because I've always written, because I love stories. I wouldn't say 'art' so much as I write to tell stories and I hope I can entertain my audience along the way.

9.  What’s the strangest thing you’ve researched for a writing project? I'm not sure. It varies from what inventions existed at a particular point in history to details about modern medical procedures.

10. Do you have any characters you love on the page but would hate if they were a real person? Other people's sure. You can appreciate a character but hate who they are, e.g. Teabag from Prison Break to give a tv reference. In my own work I don't tend to love my antagonists, they're there to be bothersome and largely unlikeable.

11. Would you like to share your favourite bit you’ve written recently?

I wrote several pieces this month for #writingwednesday on gatekeeping which I was pleased with because it's an important topic. I haven't written much other original fiction lately. I've been sucked into the Good Omens fandom and writing nonsexual Aziraphale/Crowley h/c and romantic fluff under my fandom pseudonym.

 I'm too lazy to think up other questions, especially when these are so good! I'll tag @emdop  @lottieiswriting  @everynextdream and anyone else who wants to play.

1. NaNoWriMo. Yes or no? And why?

2.  Do you write better with or without pressure? (ex. word wars)

3. How much romance do you usually write into your WIP(s)?

4.What colour do you associate with each of your main characters?

5.   If you had to live where your characters live, how would you like it?

6.  Are there any characters you’re afraid people will ship when your WIP(s) is/are published?

7.   What’s a name you want to use for a character but haven’t yet?

8.  Do you write to make art or to entertain your audience?

9.  What’s the strangest thing you’ve researched for a writing project?

10.  Do you have any characters you love on the page but would hate if they were a real person?

11.   Would you like to share your favourite bit you’ve written recently?

[magic-multicolored-miracle]

Nancy Drew: The Curse of the Dark Storm

So, I really liked this episode. It was atmospheric and exciting, moved the mystery along while still giving us new questions, and had some moments that showed off character cleverness.

I also really like that the show is making it so that her friends are just as clever as Nancy is and really able to share the mystery-solving equally depending on the situation/circumstances. In fact, so far we’ve seen more puzzle-solving from Ned, sorry Nick, than we have from Nancy. Get on your game Drew. 

As usual, context-less commentary there below:

What is with your accent right now Ace? You got all…southern

Ah good. George is being practical about it and does not believe she’s marked for death. 10/10 appreciate you’re logical

I mean because we saw him pull something out, we as the audience know the text is referring to Nancy’s mom’s car. But he’s a MECHANIC, that text could have meant ANY CAR

If he were a murderer, this confrontation would be an excellent way to get yourself killed girl

Ok, I liked her attitude at first, but it’s starting to get one-not and annoying

Do you not have an office building Carson? Or at least a room where your confidential client conversations can’t be eavesdropped on?

What natural causes could have killed her suddenly?! She was a young, healthy woman in her 20s/30s who randomly dropped dead in a diner parking lot. Really?!

Is there anything you people don’t have a ghost story attached to?

I swear, Yelp! must sponsor the show or something

Rat on your boyfriend or go to prison. Thanks for those great options, Karen… Also her felony charges are unrelated to the murder so they shouldn’t be dropped because you find someone more likely to be guilty of that (legally) unrelated crime.

Congrats Nancy, you made things worse!

Kate’s a social worker now instead of a journalist? Interesting. I wonder how much it’s going to matter ultimately

I mean that’s what you get for heating a completely empty coffee pot…and having dangerous decorations precariously hung…and…dammit please don’t let curses be real

Also, Rita is a new person several episodes in. Tragic, or suspicious. Only time will tell which.

Will solving the clock lead to Josiah Crowley’s real will?!

A salt circle stops demons not curses usually. And why did you need a how-to video for making one?!

I felt that way about Edith Wharton in my English class too. Although we were reading Ethan Frome.

Not going to lie, but the way Nick is talking about her and the one quote he read, calling books their “secret language,” it all adds up to a very romantic-feeling picture of their relationship and I hate it because it would be the second weird, creepy adult-child relationship in the show, or alternately I hate it because the CW’s subliminal messaging is getting to me

That thing does not look like a B&B at all. Certainly not one I would ever want to stay at…

Why are you so obsessed with money? 

Even if this was not a terrible clichéd idea, you are in a professional meeting and should not have wandered out of it, dumbass

Under the influence can also explain away ghosts…I can work with that

Snerk. Dad car.

Oh no, poor Bess…

She was going to make this into some sort of library or reading-centered community center, wasn’t she?

Again, confrontations that can lead to major problems, so maybe don’t have them in creepy buildings in the middle of a storm. Know your tropes.

I feel like we could appreciate this whole “Nick solves an important puzzle” thing more if we had the context and information to be thinking about it ourselves too, or if he and Nancy were starting from the same basic info and he’s working it out faster/better.

Glad you figured its in the kitchen, whatever “it” is, but hiding would be an excellent idea right about now, not getting caught sneaking about on a dead woman’s property, especially since you’re a major suspect in said death.

He already told you it’s being made a public landmark. That means you can’t strip it for parts to sell, idiot.

Carson, asking the smart questions, but much like your daughter, wrong place wrong time is how people DIE

Hell yeah! Cask of Amontillado!

So all this was for or because of Nick? That’s…concerning…

Shit, they’re gonna get caught…

Has Nick been wearing gloves? Or are his fingerprints all over everything now?

Well shit. Poor timing Karen.

I really like how each character has a color associated with them. Nancy is blue, George is green, Bess is yellow, Karen seems to be purple.

Aren’t your legs cold Nancy?

That speech was sweet. Melodramatic, but sweet.

I do not like Karen.

Who the hell are you Rita?! And why are you so creepy af? Oh good, so she was never really there. Awesome. Goddammit.

Nick, you don’t need to open these wounds just to build trust. Although I did kinda suspect it was something along the lines of protecting someone else, or that the person was abusing him somehow, or maybe just racist and trying to kill Nick, but the first is the plainest/surface “what  good guy” justification, almost cliché at this point, to be honest.

Thank you for that levity Ace. It’s part of why I’ve quickly come to love you.

Perfectly timed dramatic sunlight after the storm is perfectly timed and dramatic.

There’s no hole in the floor where she pulled that out…

$5mil in Bearer Bonds is exactly the kind of thing Ryan Hudson would have been looking for, and might have killed to get… Don’t do anything stupid Nick…

Oh, we’re intervening in the Bess situation, good. Or at least as much as she’ll let you.

Jut…forget what you know Carson. It’s for the best.

Creepy ghost, maybe, I don’t know, fuck off?

So I was technically right that Rita was tragic, just in a creepy/sus. Way

If you did, it seems like you’re just consolidating killers under one roof. Since we’re still being expected to believe that Carson is responsible for “Dead” Lucy

Trailer: Alright, so it looks like it might be a Bess-centric episode, which is cool since we don’t know much about her. But also, I’m just going to have to accept that ghosts are real in this version of things, aren’t I? I refuse and intend my denial to last at least the first 5 episodes. Fight me.

[hekate1308]

Day 17

It is time for more Crowley survival, my pretties. Enjoy!

It’s become a ritual, of sorts.

A ritual that takes place on every 17th of every month.

Dean Winchester has never forgotten a single day on which they lost someone, and the losses they suffered then were very heavy indeed.

It’s not as bad as it was in the beginning, anymore; no, Cas’ miraculous resurrection, even if he came back down-powered, made everything better; but –

But.

There’s someone else who lost his life because of them on that day. Even if neither Cas nor Sam ever really mention him.

And so, on every 17th, in the middle of the night, when Sam and Cas are resting or otherwise occupied, he drinks a glass of Craig and tries to summon Crowley.

Nothing ever happens, of course. Nothing can. The demon is gone. And even if he weren’t, the bunker is still warded.

Yes, what he is doing is not only slightly insane, but also completely useless.

But it still feels like the right thing to do, and he’s not harming anyone.

Maybe he’s finally reached the bargaining stage of mourning, and it’s the deal he’s made with himself – he gets to attempt to call Crowley once a month.

It’s another one of his nights of indulgence. Both Sam and Cas are sleeping – the last hunt took a lot out of them all – and Dean carefully pours his drink before stepping up to the devil’s trap. Smiling, he thinks that Crowley might appreciate the nostalgia of it all if for some crazy reason the summoning suddenly –

It works.

One moment, he’s thrown the last ingredient into the fire, the flame flares up for a second, and then –

He’s staring at Crowley, who promptly passes out.

If there is one thing Dean is familiar with, it’s the need to immediately spring into action, and not even a minute later, he has Crowley out of the devil’s trap. But what is he supposed to do now? He can hardly check his pulse.

In the end, he decides to throw some water at him and hope for the best, automatically reaching for one of their holy water bottles in the kitchen before he remembers.

“Don’t be an idiot, Dean” he mutters, shaking his head at himself as he goes to the sink.

By the time he comes back, Crowley appears to be waiting up, and the glass of water does the rest as he pours it unto his face.

His eyes blink open. “Wha – Squirrel?”

“Welcome back to earth, your Highness” Dean replies, a little unsure of how to proceed. For God’s sake, he only then realizes, he even pulled him out of the devil’s trap without a second thought.

And Crowley unexpectedly coming back to life is no excuse for such foolish behaviour. He really should be used to that by now.

For what it’s worth, however, the former king of Hell doesn’t seem in any mood to wreak havoc. If anything, he’s even more confused than Dean.

The suit he’s wearing is the same he died in, and he looks away not to see the gaping hole where the angel blade went in. “Glass of Craig?” It’s the only thing he can think of saying.

“I thought you’d never offer. Your qualities as a host have gone seriously downhill” he drawls, and there is the sarcasm Dean wouldn’t admit to himself he’s been missing for the past year.

“Alright, then.”

They end up drinking in the library. It’s better than the war room, where Dean punched Crowley in the face the last time he saw him, only to end up staring in disbelief as he offed himself for them.

They sit in silence, but to his surprise, it’s neither awkward nor particularly uncomfortable. “Say” he suddenly remembers, “How come you are here?”

“You summoned me. How much have you had to drink tonight already?”

He rolls his eyes. “You know exactly what I meant. The warding. You shouldn’t have been able to –“

“My powers seem to be somewhat diminished” Crowley admits, looking everywhere but at Dean.

“Like Cas’, then. He came back a bit weaker too.”

“What do you mean, he came back?”

Dean spends the next half hour bringing him up to speed.

When he’s done, Crowley shakes his head. “Why do you boys always have to get in trouble?”

“You’re one to talk. Closing the rift is one thing, but killing yourself in the process?”

“It was the only way it could be done.”

“At least you got rid of Lucifer once and for all.”

Even in the darkest times, when both Cas and Crowley were gone, it was a consolation.

“Let’s just say I had to get even.”

“You did. Pretty sure he has as bad a time in the Apocalypse world as you can imagine.”

Crowley chuckles. It reminds Dean of the summer they spent together as demons – as if all of this weren’t complicated enough, already.

“Really though, that new king isn’t up to snuff. Barely inconveniences us, I tell you. They just didn’t know what they had.”

When Crowley doesn’t answer, Dean asks, “What are your plans?”

“Considering my little power problem and the fact that all demons still hate me, I might have to lay low for a while.”

“You can stay here” Dean immediately offers. It’s not just because of their history (at least that’s what he tells himself) – Crowley being on their side once and for all would be excellent news. Guys knows his lore – the spell he pulled on his last day alive (well – so far) proves that more than enough.

“Thank you, but I’d rather not see your dungeon again if I can help it.”

“Don’t be so melodramatic. we have more than enough rooms. True, some may be a little dusty, but other than that...” He realizes Crowley’s staring at him. “What?”

“You are offering me a room.”

“Yes.”

“Without any demands for compensation?”

“Hardly see how there could be any. It’s just a room” he shrugs. “And you really took one for the team, back there. We owe you.”

“That is true. You would have been lost without me” Crowley boasts, his old self-confidence returning full force. Dean breathes a sigh of relief.

“You probably want to change clothes before Sammy and Cas get up. I don’t think I have anything that’ll fit your meat suit exactly, but some of my old things should do well enough.”

He expects Crowley to look appalled and start complaining, but instead he instantly accepts. Somewhat sheepishly (Dean presumes he hasn’t had the need in years) he asks if he can take a shower.

“Sure thing. Bathroom’s in the third corridor to the right has the best water pressure.”

After he’s picked out the clothes for Crowley, and once he hears the water running, he lets himself sink down on his chair in the library once more and enjoys the moment, because if he knows one thing, he knows that nothing ever comes cheap to the Winchesters.

As it turns out, he’s right.

After he showed Crowley into one of the cleaner rooms, he all but crashed in his own, and so it’s well after ten that he wakes up; for a moment, he doesn’t remember last night, but then he all but sprints out of bed.

It’s good he’s gotten fast at putting on his clothes, because what he stumbles across at in the kitchen can best be described as a Mexican standoff.

At worst... he doesn’t even want to think about anything the scene in front of him resembles.

Crowley is eating cereal (always had a thing for snacking, his Majesty, even though he doesn’t really need to it), still wearing Dean’s clothes; Sam is sitting on the other side of the table, staring at him as if he expects him to attack any minute; and Cas is standing in front of them, looking rather confused.

He clears his throat. “Morning Sammy, Cas – Crowley.”

“Dean” his brother gets up. “Would you care to explain –“

“Alright, come with me. Cas, Crowley –“

“Don’t worry Squirrel, we’ll be talking about our new membership to the came-back-from-the-dead-and-didn’t-even-get-all-my-powers Club”.

As they walk away from the kitchen, Dean hears Cas answering, “I don’t think that club exists.”

Once they’ve reached the library, Sam turns around. “Dean, what the hell? Crowley comes back and you don’t even wake us? Instead, you give him some clothes to wear –“

“His own were torn and dirty –“

“And you show him to the bathroom –“

“Did I mention the dirty part?”

“And you don’t even put him in a devil’s trap!”

“What for?”

Sam stares at him. “What do you mean, what for? It’s Crowley.”

“Yep.”

“Yep? That’s all you have to say about this?”

“Yes.”

“Why.”

“’Cause it’s Crowley, alright? Last time I checked, the guy died for us. Cut him some slack.”

“Dean, he was the King of Hell.”

“And he abdicated. Have you ever known a demon to give a gig like that up in order to hang around our merry little troop?”

Sam doesn’t immediately find an answer to that, but then he begins, “When I worked with Ruby –“

“You had known her what, six months at that point? Also, she hadn’t sacrificed herself for us to get rid of Lucifer, last time I checked.”

“Dean –“

“Look, Sammy” he says tiredly, rubbing his face, “As far as I am concerned, this is a good thing, alright? Let’s just have another good thing after Cas came back.”

“Alright” he acquiesces, “But the second he does anything, I’m throwing him in the dungeon.”

“He won’t” is all Dean says as he leaves the room. He can feel it in his bones; Crowley won’t do anything stupid now.

Dean’s proven right, but it’s not always easy. Sam still distrusts Crowley, that much is obvious – and Dean continues to be baffled at the demon’s relaxed attitude top that fact. Sam doesn’t want to work with him? Sure, he’ll just accompany Dean on cases (in a somewhat cheaper suit than he’s accustomed to, once his Highness has resigned himself to the fact that they can’t afford Armani). Sam doesn’t listen to him when he makes a suggestion on a hunt? He’ll discuss the lore with Cas. Sam pointedly leaves him out when introducing them to other hunters? He’ll raise a hand, say “Name’s Crowley” and move on.

When Dean asks Cas, the angel looks away. “He’s not used to it, I think.”

“Not used to what?”

“Belonging somewhere. I don’t know for certain, of course... but if I had to guess, I’d say that he’s ready to accept some drawbacks for being part of the team.”

Oh. Well, Dean did punch him that day that seems so long ago now. He squeezes Cas’ shoulder. “Thanks, man.”

Not everyone immediately accepts Crowley, of course – in fact, most hunters who know who Crowley was are decidedly on Sam’s side (and when it comes to people like Jody, who can blame her?) but Dean is steadfast in his conviction of keeping him in the bunker. Every demon out there would like to get their hands on Crowley, and he’s not about top let that happen.

Crowley has taken to updating the Men of Letter’s library, fixing mistakes and mumbling to himself about how they knew nothing.

Dean likes to think they’re making progress, since even Sam over time resigns himself to working with him.

And then it’s been six months since he summoned Crowley.

Another 17th.

Dean has a fglass of Craig out of nostalgia, and is soon joined by the ex-king.

“How’s it going?” Dean asks.

“Do you mean the library? I have been making –“

“I actually meant in general” he says quickly. “You know, coming back depowered and all that, and right now you’re one of the good guys, must be a bit different than what you’re used to.”

“Oh, you know me. I get by.”

Except for when he’s standing in a wasteland and facing the devil. But Dean doesn’t talk about.

It’s comfortable sitting here with Crowley, and for him, on this 17th, that’s quite enough.