#ao3 good omens

[sad-chaos-goblin]

To all the smutty Good Omens fanfic writers:

<3

[shades-o-grey]

Been making my way through basically every page of the Aziraphale/Crowley Tag on AO3 and have now reached the fics circa 2015 before the show came out.

Its interesting to see how their relationship is so essentially the same but how little things feel so different between before their on screen portrayals.

One little tid-bit I'm enjoying is how in the absence of Gabriel and Lord Beeze from the show the 4 horsemen tend to be featured more as secondary characters with bearing on the plots in the human AUs I gravitate toward.

Since we haven't got Red hair Crowley in a half-bun yet or Davids Tennant's Iconic *gestures vaguely in the air* there's no paragraphs of prose describing their long silky flames of crimson locks or the swaggering of barely attached hips and sprawled limbs.

And since they haven't been exposed to the devastating effect of Micheal-Sheens facial expressions and puppy eyes, Aziraphale comes across a little more aloof, but still the fussy bastard we all love, and he still has Crowley just as wipped.

Im having a great time.

[novagale]

A miracle, you say?

[ineffable-xenanigans]

A Mouthful of Blessings (6/6)

A clean bone was flung across the room as a tangle of limbs rearranged itself on the leather sofa, and then Crowley was straddling Aziraphale, holding his face in eager hands, pushing a very-much-still-human tongue into his mouth. The angel took it in hungrily, as if he’d never tasted it before because, in a way, he hadn’t.

Continue reading Chapter 6: Rain on AO3! The full NSFW image is also there 😘

At last, the smut that was promised. We finally get to see Crowley using the power of prayer to dirty-talk Aziraphale while his mouth is otherwise occupied I mean he partakes in phallic Principality I mean he plugs his piehole with a Principality’s prick.

Don't know what I'm talking about? Perhaps you should start reading A Mouthful of Blessings from the beginning (8k words, rated E) 😇

Thanks y'all for letting me yap about this fic for weeks. I'll tone it down for a while, but be warned: I am planning to turn this into a series of increasingly unhinged smutty smuts as their relationship develops and they get to explore carnal pleasures together 😈

Tag list (let me know if you wanna be added!)

@snognes @naturallyteal @eybefioro @ineffablyruined @ineffably-queer-book-lover

🎨 only: @good-omens-gallery

🌶 only: @goodomensafterdark

[beerok23]

Runaway Groom AU - Chapter 19 - NOW COMPLETE

With the compliments of my beta @somewhere-in-wales

Excerpt from Chapter 19 - A Very Ineffable Cock-up

‘She’s our Creator, Crawley! Without her, we wouldn’t even exist!’ The demon’s thin fingers grabbed his long-time hereditary enemy's forearms. Crawley wouldn’t lie, he’d dreamed about touching the angel’s arms more than once during the millennia. He’d dreamed of being close to him, of being intimate with him, of hearing Ezra whispering his name against his ears in the darkest hours. And yet, this was the first time that Crawley dared reach out to the being he considered a best friend, a teammate in a group formed by the two of them. He shook Ezra, trying to put some sense into his wonderful, clever brain. ‘We don’t belong to her anymore, angel! She lost any claim on us when it turned out what kind of horrible creepy god she actually was!’ Ezra shook his head in denial, not wanting to hear the truth spoken so openly and dangerously by the demon. ‘Ezra!’ Another shake. ‘She doesn’t own us anymore! We belong to ourselves. We belong – to each other…’ The demon’s voice had turned into a whisper as the storm announcing the Apocalypse raged around them, threatening to destroy everything and everyone in its path. ‘We belong to this world. To OUR world!’ ‘Crawly--’ ‘And we belong to the humans. Remember all those silly, marvellous people that we’ve protected over the millennia? Where was God then, angel?’ Ezra’s eyes were wide now, and he was speechless, confused, and scared. ‘She wasn’t there, Ezra. WE were there. Together.’ ‘Together?’ Ezra muttered; a word pronounced as the prayer of a dying man. ‘Yes.’ Crawley was shivering too, now. Because Ezra was finally realising that they were more than what their Creator had programmed them for, so much more. ‘You and me. On our side.’ ‘Our side,’ Ezra repeated. And then he smiled that beaming smile of his. A smile (and Ezra had no idea of this, but Crawley had been a witness since day zero) that had converted millions of people to the side of the good since the Garden of Eden. A perfect, wonderful smile that had inspired Crawley to fall in love with the angel as soon as he’d met him, on that fateful day when the first Man and Woman had fallen and Ezra had sheltered him with his pristine white wing to cover a demon from the drops of the very first rain. Crawley offered his hand to Ezra, and this time the angel didn’t hesitate to take it. They walked towards the horizon with their fingers entwined. Two inseparable celestial beings. The ying to each other’s yang. Whatever their future may hold, Crawley and Ezra would face it, joined by an invisible and unbreakable line. They would face the storm, they would face their enemies, they would face their (forgotten) Creator. Together. On their side.

[READ FROM THE BEGINNING]

I'm both sad and happy that this story is finally over. I still have a little thing to post (a short chapter 20), probably in time for Christmas, but I don't want to spoil too much 💛💛💛💛

Stay tuned, because I'm working on a new original AU, with a loooooot of pining (but no angst 💚).

Thank you all so much for all the love ❤❤❤❤❤

TAG LIST

@firephoenix2305 @on1occasionfork @moralsofanalleycatsposts @captainblou @bellisima-writes @shadesofecclescakes

With the ineffable trailer created by @ineffablerainstorm and the support of my second beta @pookasluagh 💛🧡

[on-till-morning]

Apparently ‘Crowley gets mistaken for a sex worker’ is a sub genre now and I am here for all of it from the heartbreaking to the hilarious and especially if it involves Mr Brown of Brown’s World of Carpets vying for Aziraphale’s attention. (And this fic where Mr Brown thinks Crowley is in the mafia is great too.) Give me more please internets!

[captainblou]

Roses don't wear freckles like you do

rated E, 3.4K words.

TW: Light BDSM, Wax Play, Pegging, Dom/sub Play, Aziraphale has control issues, Crowley Has a Praise Kink (Good Omens), Coming Untouched, Squirting, Oral Sex, Masturbation, Crowley has a vulva, Aziraphale has a penis

Excerpt:

“Do you have a safeword?” The angel asked suddenly, tearing his eyes away from his candle. Strategic question. Crowley had one and he knew it. They’d used it a thousand times already. “Armageddon. Do you?” The bastard chuckled. “Never needed a safeword.” Crowley hissed, his serpentine tongue flicking, eyes fixed on the melted wax dripping from his hand. “Well, think of one.” His palm had long grown insensible to the light burn of the wax, but that was the easy part. His arm, stretched in front of him without support for the last hour, was starting to shake. His shoulder was screaming in pain. Aziraphale’s hand remained steady and his lips stretched in a smile. Crowley relaxed his stance and stared into his eyes. The angel was playing a mind game with him, pretending it didn’t hurt at all.

Read on AO3

Thank you @bildadshusband for helping me writing this, I'm so glad we got to work together on that piece <3

[kayylivesinchaos]

writer on ao3 *writes a GO smut*

Crowley every 0.5sec:

✨ ngk ✨

[lavendermoonlitskies]

“It’s A Big, Lonely Universe Out There” by LavenderMoonlitSkies on Ao3 (a Good Omens fic)

Hello everyone! So I keep seeing posts on my dash about Ineffable May 2024 and I really wanted to participate but felt like I probably wasn’t gonna get this work done before June, but alas I did and it’s finally up! It’s basically a “part 3” to the 1941 subplot in the show that has been consuming my every waking thought since I saw season 2 episode 4 and heard everyone’s theories. Anyways here’s the summary + a link! :)

-

Summary: Crowley softened, watching Aziraphale’s terrified eyes imagine the lonely existence he was dangerously close to. He began to feel the drafty air in Heaven that was just a little bit too cold, a headache forming from the blinding white that covered every inch of that space. The looming threat of being tossed into the fiery pits of Hell over the tiniest hint of disobedience, with nobody there to come to his rescue. The cold stares of his colleagues, each and every one of them glaring at him with disdain and disapproval over the blasphemous ways in which he’d chosen to spend his time on earth. It was cold, so cold.

“Please don’t leave me alone.” He begged, his voice shaky and weak as a shiver ran down his back.

***

It's 1941 in London, England, and a certain angel and demon have had a very eventful evening. The night is almost over when they're sat in the middle of a dimly-lit bookshop, wine glasses in hand. Things may start to go awry when they get a little too drunk, and start admitting things they probably shouldn't.

-

Read here

[ktkellart]

Chapter 11 of God Only Knows is up!

So yeah, read it if you want. It would be awesome if you could leave a comment and/or kudos if you like it. Thank you!

Playing With Fire

Aziraphale, deflated that he's blown it with Crowley, puts his plan for the Second Coming into motion. But, as Aziraphale finds out, even the best-laid plans can develop hiccups...

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54435289/chapters/154523911

[di-42]

Israel In 4bc Had No Mass Communication, chapter 13 of my season 3 fiction And I Did is now on Ao3, featuring Grand Duke Of Hell Crowley and Supreme Archangel Aziraphale.

Huge, huge thanks to the best beta readers and cheerleaders IneffableShortCake and Smitten_obviously, whose help is invaluable!

Rated E, plot driven.

Fiction not-a-summary:

This is a story about faith. This is a story about love. This is a story about loss. This is a story about being apart and about being reunited. This is a story about fighting. This is a story about choices.

Where do we choose to place our faith? Will a god we have faith in come and save us? Will a friend? A loved one?

When do we start doubting our faith? How long before we snap, before we raise our head? How far can we go before we crumble under the weight of our own misplaced faith? Under the weight of our choices?

What does it take to make us feel betrayed, abandoned, left behind? What does it take for us to turn our back on what in which we had faith?

This is a story about unbreakable faith. This is, after all, a work of fiction.

Reblogs are much appreciated.

Chapter summery under the cut.

Will a god we have faith in come and save us?

“Sorry to break an intimate moment, but shouldn’t we get on with it?”

Aziraphale and Crowley finally looked away from each other.

Jesus shook Adam’s hand with both his own and looked at him earnestly in the eye.

“Adam Young, I am very honoured to meet you.” Then, as the wind carried the whistles and cries from the audience once again, he waved around at the others.

“Everyone, I’m Jesus.”

[sad-chaos-goblin]

Fic author: *stomps on my heart, makes me cry, crushes my soul*

Me: Thank you more please

[daisygrayce]

if you ever wonder what @phoen1xr0se looks like when she's reading all of your lovely comments from A03

[novagale]

Muriel is not the culprit of drawing hearts.

[ineffable-xenanigans]

A Mouthful of Blessings (4/6)

Aziraphale snapped his fingers, applying a minor miracle to both the oysters and the ox ribs so that they’d stay at a safe temperature for an indefinite amount of time. This might take a while, after all, and it would be unbecoming to let their lovely dinner spoil in the interim.

Continue reading Chapter 4: Flood on AO3!

Also: I'M A DEMON, I LIED. This chapter was supposed to go up tomorrow, but I finished the illustration and couldn't help myself. Also yayyyyyyy we finally got to have some proper smut 😈

Speaking of illustrations and smut, you'll encounter the full NSFW image as you read on AO3, hehehe. But here's another snippet, as a treat.

Vintage underwear inspo a bit later, just click on Keep reading :D

If you haven't come across this fic before, you could also just start reading A Mouthful of Blessings from the beginning...

Rating: E Length: 6 chapters (8k words) Summary:

This story starts, as it will end, with a prayer. In Chapter 1, we learn that angels can hear the prayers that name them. In Chapter 6, Crowley uses this knowledge for good and evil; in other words, so he can dirty-talk Aziraphale while his mouth is otherwise occupied. What happens in between? A whole lot of things, actually, including but not limited to: love confessions, crying, laughing, suggestive oyster shucking, and a flood.

The remaining chapters will be released tomorrow and the day after tomorrow!

Tag list (let me know if you wanna be added!)

@snognes @naturallyteal @eybefioro @ineffablyruined @ineffably-queer-book-lover

🎨 only: @good-omens-gallery

🌶 only: @goodomensafterdark

As I mentioned in this post, I had a hard time deciding what kind of undergarments I wanted to put Aziraphale in. After some discussions on Tumblr and Discord, I ended up going with a style that was apparently popular between the 1930s and 50s (actual fashion historians, please correct me if I'm wrong).

Source: vintagedancer.com/1930s/1930s-mens-underwear-history

Source: vintagedancer.com/1940s/1940s-mens-underwear

Source: vintagedancer.com/1950s/1950s-mens-underwear-history

Those aren't the only images I looked at, but I think those sources are quite nice because they show you a lot of the variety going on back then.

I just liked the details of the curved waist on the front and the snaps on the back :3 oh, and there's supposed to be a couple of seams back there, but I didn't draw them because I was too lazy *coughs* I couldn't get them to look nice in this particular pose *chokes* I made the deliberate artistic choice to keep his undies simple to match the tablecloth, of course.

[beerok23]

The Grass is Always Greener - Ch. 1

It’s almost Christmas in Whickber Street, a quiet neighborhood in the little town of Tadfield. Mr Brown sees the upcoming holiday as the perfect chance to throw a party to impress Mr Fell, the charming bookseller who lives next door. He must deal with Mr Crowley, though, an annoying astronomer who moved to Tadfield five years prior and became best friends with Mr Fell. Mr Crowley and Mr Fell both secretly wish that their relationship was something more, but they are two idiots, so they keep on pining for each other under the scrutiny of Comma, Crowley’s very insightful cat. ~ A Good Omens Christmas AU ~

A huge shout out to my Beta @hermiola 💛💛💛

For @pookasluagh, @ineffablerainstorm and @somewhere-in-wales

Excerpt from Ch. 1 - Utterly Ridiculous

“It’s the most — wonderful Christmas instalment I’ve ever seen, Crowley.” Mr Brown tried to ignore the fact that his response was coming along with the chorus of Somebody To Love – and was that a blush on Mr Fell’s face? “How did you build this up on your own? I’m pretty sure this wasn’t here yesterday.” Mr Fell looked extremely impressed. And also in awe. How Mr Crowley hadn’t realised that their neighbour was obviously enamoured of his presence was a mystery worthy of being studied. “Oh. Well, uhm. You know. Yeah, mmm, I just… I worked on it last night.” “Sounds like an impossible job for only one person,” Mr Fell noticed. “Not impossible, no. Just… intricate.” “I didn’t picture you as a modern music lover, Mr Fell.” Mr Brown interjected, trying to spark his interest (to no avail), but sparking one of Mr Crowley’s infamous glares, instead. “Oh, well, I’m not a fan of… bebop, per se,” Mr Fell elucidated, immediately thwarting Mr Crowley’s attempt to retort, “But I’ve become quite accustomed to Queen. Sometimes it feels like it’s the only music that Crowley’s car likes playing.” Mr Brown ignored the fact that Mr Fell was talking about an inanimate vintage Bentley as if it were a sentient being. “It’s rock, Aziraphale, for god’s sake!” Mr Crowley immediately moved his tongue in his mouth as if he was trying to deal with the lingering of a very bad taste. “And to be fair… it is a bit loud, my dear.” Oh, Mr Brown would have given an arm to be called that. But he was already sadly and pathetically aware of the fact that the possessive adjective only applied to a scrawny-man-in-black. Another thing that the idiot hadn’t realised yet, apparently. Perfect, now the idiot was smiling that smug smirk of his. Mr Crowley manifested a remote control from a pocket of his far too light jacket (it was December, how could he cope with going around almost undressed?!) and pressed a combination of buttons. The music changed, and Queen gave way to a very soft and mellow piano track. Mr Fell recognised it immediately and put his hands on his cheeks. Brown couldn’t tell if they’d just reddened for the cold or because he was blushing. “Oh, Crowley! It’s Debussy.” Brown witnessed impotent as Mr Fell gawked at Mr Crowley with that look in his eyes. “I asked the project designer to add a second combination to play at night. I didn’t want Freddie’s vocals to keep the whole neighbourhood perpetually awake for a month.” “Debussy’s Clair de lune is my favourite piano piece.” Mr Fell’s hand was metaphorically on his heart, now. “I know,” came Mr Crowley’s bashful answer. Mr Brown sighed in exasperation. You see, one could only stand a certain dose of languid looks of understanding between these two idiots. And when you were forced to witness such knowing looks day after day, after day… Well, let’s just say you would have developed a slight idiosyncrasy towards redheads too.