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addledmongoose ¡ 13 hours ago
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Best of 2024 Good Omens Fanfiction
Welcome to my list of the best Good Omens fanfiction I’ve read in 2024! These are my favorites of all the novels, short stories, and series I’ve read this year, and they’re the ones I have or am most likely to read more than once. There’s so much amazing talent in the Good Omens fandom, and I will never be able to read every great story, but I’m happy to have found these fantastic works. (FYI, I added up the word counts of all the stories on this list, and it’s over three million!)
First of all, if you haven’t read the stories on my 2023 Best Of list, be sure to check out the amazing works there. There are a lot of older classics, like Or Be Nice, Slow Show, and Pray For Us, Icarus and some stories written after season two released, like Factory Setting and Married At First Sight. 
Secondly, here is the entire list of every recommendation I’ve made in 2024. There are far more great stories than can fit in a single year-end list. I’ll be unpinning that list and pinning up a new one next year.
Last year, I was able to split my list up more evenly into canon adjacent/compliant and human AU. This year, I read a wider variety of stories, many of them quite long, and more series. I’m splitting the list into three categories: canon, human AU, and non-human AU. There's no order or ranking to the list; they were mostly just added as I read them.
There are also no WIPs here; all of the stories are complete. The series are also complete at the time of this list or are a series of standalone shorts that don't need to be read in order. My preferences lean toward funnier, lighter stories and are often heavy on plot. If you’re looking for dark stories with a lot of angst, you won’t find as many here as other blogs might recommend. It’s not that some of these don’t have dark, sad moments or moments of angst, but Aziraphale and Crowley must have a happy ending, and I prefer stories that don’t make me cry or cause a lot of stress.
If you like these stories, don’t forget to leave kudos and comments for the authors! 
If you hit that "Keep reading" button, strap in! This is a very, very long post.
Canon
They’re still angel and demon. I’m counting Reverse Omens in this category.
The Seventh Prince of Hell (56K; Rated M) by @evilasiangenius
Reverse Omens. This is actually part of a series, but I’ve only read the first book, so I’m not listing it as a series. Aziraphale is the Seventh Prince of Hell. His animal aspect is the octopus. Crowley is an ordinary angel. Both are assigned to Earth. They have adventures!
Genesis 3:(-7)-5.5 -7   And they assembled all the Lords, the Princes of Hell into a congregation together sometime after the seventh day, but not on a day of rest because even the Dark Council has a day off. -6  When it came to pass that all grew weary of the powerful pointing presentations, Lord Beelzebub spake with a loud voice, saying unto them, One of uzz brotherzz muzzt go to Earth as Hell’s Represzentative and thwart the doings of Heaven; there izz no choice now that the Almighty has created humanzz. Who amongzt uzz shall take up the project? It comezz with a great deal of extra paperwork, much travel, and no overtime pay. And we shall not reimbursze anything and there shall be no per diem. [...] -3  And of the seven Princes of Hell, three stepped forward, and only three; not two nor five, which are the other prime numbers near three and definitely not one, which is not a prime at all but the unit. The first was the Second Prince, who is called Asmodeus and is a demon of lust. The second was the Seventh Prince, who is called Aziraphale and is a demon of collecting stuff. And the third was the Fourth Prince, who is not worth talking about because they only appear in this one scene and for no other reason than to have three characters. I think that Prince is the demon of executive dysfunction or erectile dysfunction or something like that. Maybe both.
***
Nice And Ominous: a reluctant eschatology of the Second Attempt (series) (117K; Rated T/E) by @e-rated-beardo
A three-part, post-s2 series with gorgeous art by the author. Part I is Crowley’s POV as he deals with the loss of his angel. Part II is from Aziraphale’s POV as he tries to stop the Second Coming and deal with the loss of his demon. Part III is the thrilling finale (and the happy ending). Expect a lot of angst but great characters and plot.
It was a shit day. All the days had been shit, and there had been rather a shitload of them so far. Tucked away in a disused corner of a car park in a retail park in Croydon, a lanky man cracked his eyes open and scowled out the side window of his car. There were raindrops hitting the glass and clouds massing towards the eastern horizon suggested a storm was on its way. He had slept uncomfortably across the front seats for a good amount of time (it didn’t much matter what exact amount), and despite the car being a vintage and exceptionally attractive specimen, nobody had paid it much mind—and the few people who had had the idea to come over and have a look at the ostensibly abandoned vehicle had all suddenly realised how much they actually needed to go buy a sofa or something at that Ikea over there, right about now, in fact. Untangling his various limbs, the man in the car—who wasn’t exactly a man, as such, but close enough for government work—reluctantly sat up, his boot brushing against one of the empty bottles on the floor. He had neglected to sober up before going to sleep.
***
Too Hot for Heavenly Handling (2.4K; Rated E) by @hollybennett123
Crowley says yes to returning to Heaven. The two enjoy three fornication-fueled weeks before they’re hauled before the Metatron and the other archangels for a disciplinary hearing. Rating-aside, there’s not any actual sex in this story. It’s implicit; not explicit.
I’ve read this story more times than I can count (ok, it’s seven). I nearly choked the first time I read it, because I was laughing so hard. Every sentence is a gem. The timing of the jokes is impeccable. There’s not a single bad line in this entire piece. 
“No angel shall pretend to be of a lower status than their actual ranking,” Aziraphale reads aloud. ���What does that have to do with — ohhh,” he says, wide-eyed, remembering their ongoing little roleplay. Crowley, an angel of the lowest ranking in their little game, seeking favour from an Archangel; offering to service him in secret so he might earn a series of Heavenly promotions. It had been jolly good fun, actually. “Misuse of Heavenly furniture,” the Metatron continues. “One count. Again, the actual number is unknown. Quite frankly, no one here is willing to research it further to gather any more evidence than the minimum required to bring you before this Council.” Looking back, Aziraphale’s desk has seen quite a bit of action in recent weeks. And the chair. The walls, too, if they count.
***
Aziraphale’s Diaries (series) (11K; Rated T) by @fellshish
A series of standalone fics written as Aziraphale’s diary entries. They don’t need to be read in any order. All of them are fantastic, but I probably laughed the hardest at “Adventures of a mystery shopper in the bookshop.” Aziraphale decides Crowley must be bored after the Nomageddon and in need of work and decides to “let” him take care of his bookshop while he’s away, but then he worries the demon might sell some of his books.
29 August 2018 I’ve informed Crowley I’ll be going away for about three weeks, to perform an exciting and complicated blessing abroad. In reality, I’ve booked the Ritz for myself, where I’ll be forced to act human and eat breakfasts, lunches and dinners. Anything to keep a close eye on Crowley!   30th August 2018 It’s my first day away. I decided to go by the bookshop in an “old and confused man disguise” so I could look through the window. I was just in time (a three hour window between lunch and afternoon tea at the Ritz) to see him read the letter I’d posted a few days ago so it would arrive just as I’d left.  It was cleverly addressed “To the owner or the current guardian of this bookshop”. I used all my knowledge of humans, gathered via the cleverest of ways (a lot of reading), to write it. 
***
A Special Place In Hell (50K; Rated T) by @hotcrosspigeon and @mirach
When Adam shifted reality and caused Satan to disappear, the nearest supernatural entity became the new King of Hell. As it so happened, a certain angel was standing just a little closer than his demon.
Aziraphale, while not Falling, becomes the new ruler of Hell and must navigate Hellish politics, find a role for the love of his life, and maybe bring some proper tea time to the infernal realm. I stumbled upon this story purely by accident one night, and it was a pure joy to read. It’s one of those stories I wish was a series, because I could read so much more in this world.
"Hello, Crowley, my dear fellow. I would like to discuss a certain issue with you. You see, I somehow got into a very peculiar predicament..." Aziraphale sighed in frustration, pacing in his bookshop. "No no no, that sounds like I got my hand stuck in the sweets vending machine again." He cleared his throat. "Hey Crowley, what's up? Better sit down because I have some news to tell you... And by some news I mean... errr..." The angel groaned. "Oh Heavens, there's just no proper way to say this. Ugh, come on, Aziraphale, buck up! You just need to get to the point, that's all. Say the things as they are. No going in circles around the matter. Nice and accurate, right. Just tell him..." He turned at the sound of the bookshop doorbell. "Hello Crowley! Nice weather, isn't it?" "Wha..?" Crowley raised an incredulous eyebrow over the top of his sunglasses, a drop of water running along the edge of his nose. His red hair was plastered to his forehead. He turned to look out the window, jerking a thumb at the onslaught of vicious hail and rain that pelted the glass and plinked against the pane. "Oh, ha ha , very funny. It's bloody bucketing down, angel! I legged it in here before I got clonked on the head with a hailstone the size of my fist." He stopped and frowned at the angel in concern. "Er... you all right? You're looking a bit peaky."
***
Flowers From Hell (42K; Rated T) by @entanglednow
Crowley creates a hybrid demon flower that turns out to be a little more than he intended. This was such a sweet, beautiful story of found family and love, and you’ll absolutely fall in love with Ivy and want to do everything to protect him.
There's a low, quiet rustle from the atrium, where Crowley keeps his finest plants. The beautiful and often terrified rows of them are always so tall and glossy, and fantastically well maintained. Aziraphale regrets that he hadn't taken more of an interest in Crowley's hobbies. It wouldn't have been too difficult, he imagines, to seek out rare specimens to offer the demon. When he's been given so many long sought after volumes, and unpublished manuscripts in turn. Perhaps he could encourage Crowley to open up more, with a few well thought out questions pertaining to his plants, and their various needs. He knows Crowley has been absorbed in a special project recently, he'll make a point to ask about it today. Aziraphale heads into the stretch of greenery, following the tap of feet on tiles, and the quiet swish of foliage. He catches a flash of red hair at the end of the room, behind a messy spray of deep green leaves, then another flash, of what might be the long, pale curve of a shoulder. "Crowley?" The whole room smells damp, thick with fresh soil and crushed plant matter, and it grows stronger the deeper in Aziraphale ventures. He's sure the room wasn't quite so large before, it's clearly been expanded since he visited last, a deep bed of soil is now packed at the back of the room. "Crowley." Aziraphale eases a large spray of damp leaves aside. "I hope I'm not too early, I was -" Crowley is standing by the far wall, carefully touching the valley in the middle of a large leaf with curious, repetitive motions. He's also quite naked. It's - it's unexpected to say the least.
***
Time Marches Forward (129K; Rated M) by @bellisima-writes
While Aziraphale is in Heaven trying to thwart the Second Coming, Crowley is trying to help a frightened 15-year-old Adam learn to deal with his powers. I consider this the definitive S3 (even having written a post-S2 myself), regardless of what the upcoming finale gives us. Every character is wonderfully fleshed out. The plot is intriguing. I read it as fast as humanly possible, barely stopping to do anything else.
Crowley felt the air in the Bentley shift slightly. “What are you doing here?” Crowley jumped in shock, hitting his head on the roof of the Bentley so hard his sunglasses fell off. Adam was suddenly in the passenger seat, studying him cautiously. “Hey! You can’t just come into my car, uninvited,” Crowley hissed, grabbing his glasses and placing them back on his face. He realized he was still slouching, making Adam appear much bigger than he was. He sat up straight and crossed his arms in an attempt to look more intimidating and less drunk. He wondered if it was wise to try and glower at the Antichrist. “He can, actually,” Pepper said from the back seat. Crowley turned and snarled as he noted the three other teenagers in his car. Wensleydale and Brian sat beside her. “He can do anything.” “Yeah well, that may be so but that doesn’t make it right. Just because you can do something, doesn’t mean you should,” he looked Adam directly in the eyes as he said this, assuming no one else around him would ever be so blunt. “What are you doing lurking around my house?” Adam asked again plainly. Crowley’s glowering was not working. “Ngk. I didn’t come to see you, if that’s what you're asking. I’m as shocked as you are to find myself here. I was asleep for a few days. The bloody car did it; blame it for the lurking”
***
The Last Angel (162K; Rated E) by @bellisima-writes
Crowley's been Hell's Grand Inquisitor for millennia now. Ever since the Apocalypse, he's managed to carve out a relatively cushy life for himself. Hell won the War, Angels were essentially eradicated and all human souls were Satan's. Everything was fine. Until one day he hears a rumor that the Last Angel in the universe was finally captured. Until Beelzebub is suddenly ordering him to get information from said Angel, information that's critical for Hell's survival. Until the moment he first locks eyes with the last Angel, and everything he's ever known starts to crumble around him.
I can’t come up with a better description than the summary. Much like the author’s previous work, Time Marches Forward, this is plot-heavy, exciting, action-packed, and gorgeous. The characters are detailed and realistic. The plot sings. And you won’t see the surprise until it’s already there.
“What kinds of rumors?” he asked, shifting in his seat to properly face Eric. Words were one thing, but body language was another. As Grand Inquisitor, Crowley learned early on to weigh both when evaluating information shared by a source whose reliability was questionable. Eric was a nice kid, sure. But their reliability would definitely be categorized as questionable . Eric’s mood shifted as they glanced around the corridor. Crowley hadn’t realized how quiet the cells had gotten. The bloody humans were eavesdropping again. He dug deep and pulled up a hiss so loud and laced with demonic power that it rattled every cell door in the entire block. Eric motioned with their hand for Crowley to follow them into a corner and out of earshot of everyone else. As Crowley pulled himself up and started walking he sent searing looks down each row of cells around him. They were all going to have a talk about this later. “What?” he asked when he got close enough to Eric. Still eyeing the cells behind them, Eric leaned in closer and whispered, “Hastur finally found him."
Crowley shook his head. Eric’s shiftiness was starting to annoy him. “Found who?” “The one who killed Ligur. Crowley, Hastur’s finally captured the last Angel.”
***
Kidnapping A Supreme Archangel For Fun And Profit (series) (31K; Rated T) by @waitingtobebroken
Mostly outsider POV. Four short stories told mostly from the points of view of Agiel, the Supreme Archangel’s assistant, and Kric (Eric with a K), the Grand Duke’s assistant as they try to figure out why the Supreme Archangel is so unworried about all the times he’s getting himself kidnapped by the Grand Duke. In the meantime, the two assistants find that maybe they have more in common than they would have expected, being hereditary enemies and all.
Being Lord Beelzebub's demonic assistant had been easier than overseeing the third circle of Hell. Just stay out of the way, don't make eye contact, not that Kric could, having been blessed with a distinct lack of eyes, and do not talk to the Prince of Hell, unless it was a 'Yes, Your Highness' or... No, that was pretty much it. You did not go around saying "No" to Lord Beelzebub. And of course, just as they had finally grown comfortable in their position, had even found the perfect time to ask for an assistant of their own... There had been a change in leadership. And Kric had found themself serving Crowley. The Original Tempter, the Snake of Eden, the Earth Walker. Kric was not impressed. Flash bastard. And suddenly, they were expected to be in the throne room at all times. To answer when addressed. Proper, actual answer. None of that automatic 'Yes, your Highness' they were so used to. The first time His Rottenness had held up two sashes, before the monthly meeting between Heaven and Hell and had asked which one made his scales look more iridescent and Kric had answered in the only way they knew how... Well, let's just say that hadn't gone well. They had been sent to something called Fashion Week. To better their understanding of clothes and colour theory, something they could sense had been invented by a fellow demon. Lord Crowley, most probably, judging by the way His Wickedness had grinned when he had told them that.
*****
Human AU
Fully human characters. No supernatural/magical elements.
Waking Up Slow (88K; Rated E) by @themoonmothwrites
After both being exposed to covid, strangers Crowley and Aziraphale wait out their isolation together (there’s only one bed!) at a cottage by the sea. This is complete cosycore fluff with just a touch of angst (and a happy ending) near the end. This gorgeous story has stuck with me for so long. If you want something that’s just plain pleasurable to read, this is it.
“Lovely view.” The voice was low, with the slightest hint of gravel, and right next to Aziraphale’s ear. He made an undignified noise and spun round in fright. “Where the devil did you-?” he started, high-voiced, before his foot caught on a stone and he lost his balance. The stranger was standing so close that Aziraphale toppled right into him, and the pair of them went down together in a tangle of knees and a solid thunk to the forehead. “Ow,” the man said, squinting up at Aziraphale, gaze unfocused, before his eyes fell closed. “Oh no!” Aziraphale breathed. “Oh dear. What do I-?” He’d left his blasted phone at the cottage, now of all times when he actually needed it! With an unconscious man lying before him! And it was all Aziraphale’s doing! “I can-- I can-- I know what to do!” he told himself, attempting belatedly not to panic. The best thing to do was not to think too hard. Tipping up the stranger’s chin, Aziraphale pinched his nose and lowered his face until his mouth closed over the other man’s.
***
The Prince’s Consort (142K; Rated E) by @ineffable-toreshi
Aziraphale is the crown prince of a fictional nation. Crowley is a Lily, trained in one of Lucien’s brothels and kept a virgin for the eventual sale to a wealthy master. Against the brothel owner’s wishes, Crowley is purchased by the prince’s adviser, Gabriel, as a companion for Prince Aziraphale. Aziraphale didn’t want a purchased mate, however, and decides to court his new consort the old-fashioned way. 
The description makes this sound like a darker story than it is; it’s actually a really sweet story with only one bad guy (and it’s not Gabriel).
I wrote a much longer review here if you’d like more details.
“I...I was just wondering, my Lord,” Anthony said, nervously nibbling on his lip and twisting his fingers in his lap. “Why did you choose me ?” Gabriel cocked his head to the side. He leaned back, reclining with his arms thrown up over the edges of the bench, and seemed to think about the question. By the time he finally opened his mouth to answer, Anthony was practically vibrating with curiosity.  “There were a few factors,” he explained thoughtfully. “I’ll admit that your appearance was the first and foremost. I prefer women, myself, but I know beauty in a man when I see it. And I’ve seen the types who’ve caught the prince’s eye over the years. I’m quite confident that he will find you more than pleasing, from an aesthetic standpoint.”
***
Keep Digging (7K; Rated T) by Appleseeds
After panicking and losing his nerve trying to ask out Aziraphale, the co-worker Crowley has an enormous crush on, he tells a little white lie that ends up completely spiralling out of control since he can't seem to stop digging himself into a deeper and deeper hole. Now he's obtained plans to help him break into a school, inadvertently funded the purchase of explosives, and, knowing his luck, the fake blood will end up permanently staining the tiles. Who knows though, maybe in the end, it'll all turn out to be worth it.
Another one of those stories that are so funny tears stream down my face every time. Even going back through it to find an excerpt had me choking down laughter.
“I actually used to be a music tutor. That was one of the little jokes I liked to tell.” Aziraphale giggled again. Nhhhhh. “Wish you could tutor me…” Crowley muttered under his breath. “Oh! Are you wanting to learn to play a musical instrument?” Aziraphale asked brightly. Crowley’s eyes widened. He wasn’t supposed to hear that. Of course, he wouldn’t have heard it if Crowley had just kept his big mouth shut. “Um. Yeah.” “Wonderful! Which one?” FUCK. How the hell was Crowley supposed to answer that? Whatever he said, he might end up having to get one of said instrument, and he didn’t know much, but he knew musical instruments could be incredibly expensive. There must be something that would be cheap enough to procure if needs be, right? And with that thought, Crowley responded. “The triangle.” Oh Jesus Christ.
***
Temple of the Muses (241K; Rated E) by @ajconstantine
It’s the start of the Season in 1841 Victorian England. Mr Anthony Crowley has left a life of working at a luxurious high end bordello in Paris behind him and is now a courtesan intent on climbing the social ladder in London to increase his status and social connections. After unexpectedly inheriting the title of the Earl of Eastgate, Aziraphale finds himself trying to navigate the complicated world of the aristocracy. Duke Gabriel purchases a month-long contract with Mr Crowley for Lord Fell as a surprise gift to Aziraphale’s astonishment and dismay. He declines to take full advantage of Crowley’s charms but agrees to an arrangement of pretending to be Crowley’s paramour in exchange for lessons on the etiquette and expectations of Society. It’s a practical arrangement, nothing more. Certainly no feelings will be involved...
One of the best, most well-researched stories I’ve read. The historical elements are fascinating, and the world-building is top notch. Set in an alternate 1841 where there’s no stigma on same sex relationships, but same sex marriage is still not allowed. The story alternates between the present time, with Aziraphale and Crowley navigating their growing relationship, and Crowley’s time being trained at one of the most elite bordellos of Paris.
Crowley has a lot of autonomy in this story. He actively chose to become a sex worker. Once he leaves the bordello and becomes a courtesan, he can refuse to sign with a client. And while there are consequences for breaking a contract, a courtesan can walk away from a troublesome client.
“Exactly what position do you think I was hired for?” Crowley interrupted, pulling the shoulder of his robe back up. The Earl looked at him as if he’d asked a ridiculous question. “Valet, of course.” Crowley barked out a disbelieving laugh. “Duke Haven didn’t tell you about me?” The Earl pursed his lips, tilting his head in puzzlement. “Not you precisely. I was at his house last week, and he chastised me when I mentioned that I didn’t have a valet, insisting I needed one even though…” His eyes widened. “Oh no. What… what did you think you were being hired for?” Struck by the absurdity of it all, Crowley fought the strong urge to laugh outright. Instead, he gave the Earl a roguish grin and bowed with a flourish.  “Mr Anthony Crowley, at your service, sir. Duke Haven procured a contract for me to be your... courtesan.” Lord Fell's mouth dropped open as he gaped at him in apparent shock. “You— I—” He floundered, at a loss for words as he looked away from Crowley. His eyes landed on the bed. To Crowley’s growing amusement, the Early actually blushed, red staining his cheeks as he swiftly averted his gaze.  
***
#RAINBOWROAD (series) (407K; Rated T/E) by @nieded
If you haven’t heard of this one yet, you’re one of today’s lucky 10,000. This is one of the best, most well-written human AUs that anyone has produced for Good Omens (or really, of any romance). It’s a three-book, three-short series set in the world of Formula 1 racing. You heard that right. You don’t need to know anything about F1 racing. You don’t even need to like F1 racing. You just need to want to read one of the best romances ever written to enjoy this series.
Ezira Phale is a rookie F1 driver. AJ Crowley is an F1 veteran and an idol of the 25-year-old racer. Everything changes when Ezira meets and falls in love with Crowley, and the older driver (by about 10 years; there’s not a massive age difference here) seems to return his feelings. I wrote a very long review of the series here, so I won’t go into a ton of detail again except to say, if you love human AU, this should be on your list. The author adds notes at the end of the chapters explaining some of the more technical aspects of the sport, or talking about some of the real racers, and it’s fascinating. 
Ezira makes his escape from the after-party after stealing a handful of fig tartlets from the hors d’oeuvres table. He ducks out the service exit before looping back to the front of the hotel. God, he wants to sleep off his tipsiness. It’s significantly cooler at night, and he wraps his arms around his shoulders before slipping inside, making a dash for the elevator. Punching his floor number, he leans against the wall and closes his eyes, waiting to be taken to his floor. Then the elevator jerks as someone jabs their hand between the sliding doors, forcing it back open. Ezira lifts his head and glares at the newcomer before his eyes widen, flushing when he recognizes the red hair and black Renault polo. AJ Crowley throws himself into the opposite corner of the elevator and pulls the brim of his hat down. He turns to look at Ezira from under his cap. "Tough luck out there today, huh?" he asks. Ezira frowns and blinks. And because he’s a little drunk and high on adrenaline, he says, "Didn’t you place seventh? I thought that was fucking brilliant." This earns him a snort, and then a bit of stifled laughter. "You can’t say fuck." "You say fuck in almost every interview you do." Not that Ezira has watched every single post-debrief involving AJ Crowley. This makes Crowley laugh harder, and he wipes at his eyes. "You just look like you should be in a painting or something. You’re like a Hummel." Flabbergasted, Ezira stares. His cheeks grow hot when he realizes AJ Crowley is taking the piss. "I don’t even know what that means." Crowley wipes his eye with the back of his hand and then presses his lips together in a feeble attempt to hold back another fit of laughter. "I’m sorry. I’m just very, very drunk, and was not expecting you to say ‘fuck.’ You look like those cherubs from Italy."
***
Lunacy (57K; Rated E) by @snae-b
@snae-b writes some of the best sci-fi GO stories you’ll ever read. This is hardly the only great story of theirs I’ve recommended; it just happens to be my personal favorite. Crowley is the crew chief of a mining operation on one of Pluto’s tiny moons. Aziraphale is a geologist there to study the structural integrity of the moon. But something seems to be alive, something that shouldn’t be there. This is pure psychological horror, the kind of story where you’re never quite sure what’s real and what’s a hallucination. You’ll find definitely NSFW artwork throughout, so take note not to read it around people you wouldn’t want seeing porn on your screen.
Crowley zones out as they continue their conversation. Things had been weird in the mine today. For the past month really. Tech malfunctioning. Batteries draining when they should have been able to hold a charge for days. Half the lights were on the fritz. As if it weren't dark enough in there already. He'd had to trek nearly a mile into Sheol with only the lights on his helmet to repair them. And his crew had their hands full with extraction, so he’d had to do it alone. The darkness really starts to play tricks on you in there. He spent as much time looking over his shoulder as he did working on the lights. Kept thinking that he was seeing something. Something hiding in the shadows. Something that lived in his peripheral vision. As he tugs a beanie on over his head there’s a light rapping on the wall and everyone glances up to the figure in the doorway. “Excuse me, Mr. Crowley. If you have time in your schedule, I really need to discuss the most recent surface scans with you. Could you come by my quarters before dinner?” Crowley sighs as he snaps on his mag boots. “Yeah. Sure thing doc. I’ll be by in thirty.” The scientist only nods before he disappears down the hall. Dr. Aziraphale Fell. He doesn’t wear the standard issue jumpsuits. He wears thick sweaters and wool trousers that look ridiculous with his mag boots. And when he isn’t wearing them, he can hardly get around. Bumps into everything and everyone. He’s never been off planet before and it shows.
***
Miracles on Ice (131K; Rated E) by @henriettarhippo
It’s the “Blades of Glory” AU you never knew you wanted. Crowley and Aziraphale are men’s figure skaters who get banned from the sport after a fight on the podium. Years later, Aziraphale’s coach, Gabriel, suggests the two of them team up to compete in the Olympic’s pairs event. Only problem is, the two skaters hate each other. 
This is very much an enemies-to-lovers story, and Gabriel as their coach and sponsor is the perfect combination of asshole and good guy. He genuinely does care for his two skaters, and he’s generous with his money, but he also has that rich guy attitude of being used to getting what he wants, and he’s not afraid to tell them to stop being dumbasses either.
“Hey angel, was that your routine? Because it looked to me like a lot of swanning about on the ice with a few pirouettes thrown in.” The mocking drawl came from the figure making his way towards Aziraphale on a pair of sharp blades. Clad in skintight black velvet trousers and a black turtleneck adorned with glittering red crystals—to match the striking red curls that stopped at his shoulders—Aziraphale’s skating rival Crowley beamed down at him with a malicious grin. “Also, you’re a bit late. They handed out the women’s medals earlier today.” He pulled down the dark shades he always wore to give Aziraphale a wink. Aziraphale bristled and sat up straighter. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. That was textbook precision, and I think you’ll find it was the same scores I beat you with last year in Oslo.” “The hotel had a free bar I don’t even remember Oslo,” Crowley said dismissively as he approached the entrance to the rink. He turned back and gave Aziraphale a grin. “But I do remember Boston, and that victory was almost as sweet as the look on your face when you botched that triple loop.” Crowley let out a laugh at the scandalised look Aziraphale gave him. The loudspeakers started up with the first booming notes of a rock song and Crowley hopped up onto the ice and skated away from him before Aziraphale had the chance to reply.
***
Friends Don't (33K; Rated E) by @missunderstoodlyrics
Human AU. Another fantastic enemies-to-lovers by MissUnderstoodLyrics. This is the newest story on this list.
Aziraphale and Crowley are rival advice columnists whose companies are merged. The CEO, Gabriel, tells them they now have to do a joint video podcast together. The snark and bickerflirting are top notch, and this story kept a smile on my face. They have to keep their romance a secret, because the whole schtick of their podcast is their very public rivalry, but it gets harder and harder the closer they become.
Aziraphale attempted to drown his mirth in his wine glass, which was precisely when Crowley decided to position his mouth millimetres from the angel’s ear. “Blair. Have you met him? Worst. Comb-over. Since. Thatcher,” he whispered and then found himself helpfully patting Aziraphale's back as the man choked and spluttered, his cherubic face turning a delightful shade of pink. “Absolute fiend,” Aziraphale managed once he’d caught his breath, but the corners of his mouth were twitching traitorously. Crowley clocked Michaela out of the corner of his eye; she was leaning forward to shush them. Aziraphale escaped her wrath by standing and marching to the stage, his back straight and shoulders squared. He planted himself solidly in front of the microphone and proceeded to destroy what was left of Crowley’s sanity. “I once met a man-shaped snake,” he stated, his gaze firmly locked on Crowley. “Whose snark was taxing to take With swagger and pose He turned up his nose But his wisdom was rather half-baked.”
*****
Non-Human AU
One or both of them are non-human, or have some sort of supernatural abilities (like magic) but aren’t angel or demon. I’m including omegaverse in this category.
Mark of the Serpent (150K; Rated E) by @naromoreau and @summerofspock
Prince Aziraphale is about to be crowned King of Angelhaven when he's taken captive by pirates. When he's sold as a pleasure slave to King Crowley, ruler of the nation readying for war with his, he is forced to keep his identity a secret as he tries to find a way home and keep peace. But not everything at King Crowley's court is as it seems and Aziraphale will have to face machinations of a Royal Court that are far more complex than he had thought. A Captive Prince AU with an omegaverse twist.
The first omegaverse story I genuinely liked, even though Crowley is pretty awful toward Aziraphale at first. Since then I’ve come to enjoy more of them, but this is the one that got me into the genre. This is another one I’ve written a much longer review about here including an explanation for the “extremely dubious consent” tag.
"What about this one?" the omega king asked, eyes fixed on his face, a strange curl to his mouth. "He's an Angel," Hastur sneered. "Pretty, isn't he? We were trying to pick a variety for your majesty to choose from since you didn’t deign to accompany us, but we didn’t find out his origin until after we brought him. He probably doesn't even speak the language." The words manifested in Aziraphale’s mind, and he immediately saw the genius in them. If he didn't speak the language, he could hardly be appealing as a consort to the king. He would be dismissed, sent back to Tracy's, and given time to heal before making his escape. "An Angel?" the king repeated, something passing over his face that Aziraphale didn't like. "What's your name?" "I’m sorry," Aziraphale stammered in Angelic, sticking to his hastily made plan. "I don’t...I don’t know what you're saying." King Crowley smiled and said, in perfect Angelic, "I asked what your name was." "Oh, um, I- you can call me whatever you wish," Aziraphale said, not wanting to risk even a part of his name. The king laughed. "I'm choosing the Angel. Send him to my quarters." "But your majesty-" The omega king turned on Ligur. "You wanted me to choose a pleasure beta and I did. It's done. Were there any other highly important council matters or can I get back to my day?"
***
Saltwater on Skin (186K; Rated E) by @candyqueenblog
Another one with a longer review here. Ezra Fell is an award-winning novelist celebrating the millionth sale of his newest books with his friends and baby brother, Gabriel, on a rented yacht. He falls overboard and washes ashore on an uncharted island, and while awaiting rescue, he gets the strange feeling he’s not alone.
This is a low angst love story between the human and the naga who rescues him, and you’ll fall in love with the island and Crowley’s four sisters. Gabriel is a peach here, much younger than Ezra and very much the caring baby brother. 
And if you’d prefer an Ineffable Wives version of the story, you can find that here. I haven’t read it, but I assume it’s equally good.
Ezra couldn’t stifle the flood of tears as he threw his arms over his head with a scream. Then a pair of rough, but blessedly human hands, covered his wrists. “You… scared?” The stranger’s voice was gravelly, most likely from disuse, but to Ezra it sounded more beautiful than all the angelic choirs. He sobbed in relief. “Oh thank heavens! I thought for sure I was going to-” His words sputtered and died when he opened his eyes to look at his rescuer. It was a man… ...from the waist up. The man’s bare torso was thin, but well defined with long arms lean with muscle. His face was all angles framed by a shock of red hair that curled down his back. His eyes were captivating. They were human enough, save for the iris being the color of spun gold and sliced right down the middle by a slit-shaped pupil. That was about where the human similarities ended. From the waist down the man’s skin melded into a massive snake tail that was wider than Ezra’s entire body and covered in black scales with a red underbelly that matched his hair.
***
FAETED (series) (251K; Rated G/T) by @ineffably-good
The only story in this category that’s not rated E. A three-book, one-short series where Ezra, an English teacher at a public school accidentally ends up in the Fae realms and in the hands of the Unseelie king, Crowley. The world-building is fantastic, and the books use some of the side characters so well, especially Hastur and Ligur, two of Crowley’s most trusted advisers. Crowley is good to Ezra, but he’s spent a thousand years ruling over the chaotic and dangerous unseelie fae, and he doesn’t always know how to handle being in love with a human. And Ezra doesn’t understand the difficult and often prickly politics of the fae, so the two have a lot of misunderstandings to work through. It leads to several fights, but they are usually resolved within the chapter.
The stories are heavy on plot, mostly around the world of the fae, which is one of the things I love most about this series. I could easily read dozens of books set in this world.
Lord Crowley watched as Ezra emerged from the coach, curious to see how this strange mortal would react to his first sight of the Dark Court. Would he blanch in terror? Would he be curious? He didn’t know or understand the creature across from him, but he knew one thing— his reactions, to date, were not what the Prince expected. This was oddly refreshing. It had been so, so long since anyone had managed to surprise him. He watched as Ezra emerged, his fluffy golden hair sticking out in all directions above the dark gray travel cloak he’d donned. He smiled faintly and with studious politeness at the horrifying gremlin who helped him down the steps, brushed the nonexistent dust off himself, and  took in his surroundings. Crowley was gratified to see his eyes widen as he looked around. They were standing in the center of an immense cavern, almost as if a mountain had been hollowed out inside by an immense blast. The rock walls climbed up above them and came together at an unmeasurable distance overhead and were dotted everywhere one looked with cavernous openings, some of which flickered with the light from a fire further inside. Creatures here and there, too murky to make out fully, hovered near the openings of some of them, peering down at the return of their Prince with eyes he could not read. Further ahead, the floor cracked into a massive chasm which ranged across the rest of the cavern and was crossed here and there by rickety-looking bridges. It was lit from below by the light of flames and the scent of sulfur. Stalagmites rose from the floor at irregular intervals, some of them paired with stalactites dropping from the ceiling like large, rocky icicles. Their surfaces glittered here and there with what looked like mica or gems. Crowley watched as Ezra took all of this in at a glance. “Thoughts?” said Lord Crowley, sidling up to him. Ezra turned astonished eyes the color of blue sky to him. “It’s beautiful! I’ve never seen anything like this.” Crowley searched his face for mockery or insincerity but found only earnestness. The Prince felt a tingle of pleasure at this, at least for a moment, until he ruthlessly slammed that feeling down inside himself and returned to his usual sardonic detachment. He hadn’t brought the human here to be his friend.
***
If He’s Your Cleric, Why Is He Putting Me In His Bag of Holding? (300K; Rated E) by @noodlefrog-omens
I read this twice in a row. Literally. I stopped it and almost immediately started it again. I played D&D 3.5 for many years, and I absolutely loved seeing a D&D adventure played out in the GO universe. Aziraphale is the cleric of an adventuring party that stupidly decides to abandon him in the dungeon (you don’t abandon your healer!). Crowley is a very hungry mimic who ends up nearly dying in Aziraphale’s bag of holding before the cleric rescues him. (Look, if you’re going to look like a fancy book, don’t be surprised when the man tries to steal you).
Aziraphale still needs to find his adventuring party again, and the mimic decides to travel along with him. Along the way they find kobolds, a doppelganger, traps, and the obligate dungeon maze, all the while getting to know each other. Aziraphale recognizes his feelings toward the mimic fairly early on, but it takes Crowley longer to even understand what his feelings even mean. 
The porn doesn’t start until chapter 33 (of 40), and only covers maybe three of the remaining eight chapters. You can read the entire adventure and stop once they leave the dungeon if you don’t want any monsterfuckery, or you could skim past the smut to the ending. I don’t know if the author has any plans for sequels, but if he does, I’ll be right there ready.
In that moment, Crowley knew that he had found the right bait to lure this human right to his doom. He waited as patiently as he could while nearly vibrating himself into a puddle, watching as Aziraphale puttered around the room cooing over all the books and scrolls in the room as though they were living creatures. “Just you wait,” Crowley thought to himself, inordinately pleased to have figured out what made this stubborn human tick. “One of them will be.” “There must be centuries’ worth of knowledge collected in just this one chamber,” Aziraphale said in a reverent whisper. Finally, finally he started touching things in this dungeon. He even took his heavy leather gloves off, tucking them into his belt before running a fingertip along the spines of the books chained to the shelves. Crowley watched him take one right off the shelf and thumb through a few of the pages. “We must have walked right by this room. I don’t know why Sandalphon told me there wasn’t anything behind this door. He must not have looked closely enough.” Aziraphale turned his back to the shelves to glance back at the door, and Crowley took his chance to crawl up the side of the bookshelf and arrange himself in front of the chained tomes in pride of place. It wasn’t difficult to change himself into the shape of a book, but this was always about the details. It was an art form. Which books, exactly, had Aziraphale been drawn to? Old ones with leather covers, mostly. Ones with bits of fiddly decoration on the spine. Ones with a bit of mystery. Aziraphale was a cleric, so he was probably interested in talking to the Gods and shite like that, or at least understanding them. That was an angle Crowley could work with. He gave his skin a supple leather texture, inky black and vaguely shimmery in a way he knew would catch the flickering light being thrown out by that sword. Gold edging and lettering crept across his cover and spine, promising divine secrets and cosmic mysteries to anyone who would just reach out and touch. He couldn’t see himself, but Crowley knew that he was a very sexy book right now. Aziraphale would have to be mad not to notice him.
***
Crowley And The Chocolate Factory (55K; Rated E) by @entanglednow
Crowley has to step up for his nephew Adam when he wins a ticket to tour the famous chocolate factories, run by the reclusive and deeply strange Zira Zonka. It doesn't take Crowley long to decide that he wants nothing to do with the man, who's clearly hiding dark and mysterious secrets.
Do you like your Crowley grumpy and cynical? Do you like your Aziraphale weird? Did you think the one thing missing from Charlie and The Chocolate Factory was sex between Wonka and one of the parents in a vintage Bentley? Then this is the story for you!
Crowley doesn’t know what to make of the definitely strange Zira Zonka, but he finds himself drawn to the man nonetheless. The story is set in modern times, but if you know the original (at least the movie version; I can’t speak for the books), you have a general idea of what’s going to happen to the children. 
Zonka releases the arms of his partners for long enough to jerk his cane towards the sky, which erupts in a shower of flower petals and candy - a large proportion of which fall on the immediately excited crowd. Crowley's fairly certain he gets hit on the head by a soft fudge. God, this is humiliating. Zonka dances right and then left while the audience cheers in appreciation. He does another circle, separates from the row to do some unimpressive spins while trying - and failing - to find a good rhyme for liquorice. "My candy emporium has so much in store. Just step right up and walk through the door!" Zonka's gold and white cane snaps up into the air again, this time leaving a burst of light and his name written across the sky in sparkling gold calligraphy. It seems to be a dramatic ending, Crowley certainly hopes it's a dramatic ending. "Half of those lines were a stretch," he complains, but quietly and mostly to himself, because the audience seems to have found the whole thing captivating, Adam included. "And there's only five kids, not six, he can't even count." The Erik's all unlink arms, to thunderous applause from the crowd behind him, and Zonka gives the widest grin Crowley has ever seen. His hands flung on his hips, like the world's most enthusiastic children's entertainer. Crowley half expects him to ask who wants to see a magic trick. "How has this man possibly managed to stay out of the limelight for twenty years?" he wonders. "Or twenty minutes."
***
Villainous (217K; Rated E) by @ineffablepenguin
Once Upon A Time… There was a red-haired sorcerer who lived alone in a high tower, and a blond prince who lived in a palace full of people. And they were both of them desperately lonely. The Kingdoms of Empyrion and the Sorcerers of Apollyon have hated each other for hundreds of years, ever since the Great War. They do not interact, other than to occasionally try to kill one another. And they certainly do not make friends. Crow is an exhausted sorcerer who just wants everyone to leave him the hell alone: for the Sorcerer’s Council to stop harassing him to live up to his potential, and for wannabe Empyrion Heroes to stop attacking his tower to try and kill him. Until one day when he meets Prince Azra of the High Fells, who doesn’t behave anything like he’s supposed to…
This is one of those stories a lot of people recommend for good reason. It’s a fantastic fairy tale full of love and romance between two people who seem destined for one another. The writing is gorgeous, the world-building is fantastic, and there’s really great artwork scattered throughout. Some of the artwork is fairly suggestive, and all of it is stunning.
Crow slowed to a stop, and his gaze flickered bemusedly over him. The man was…not tall. Or remotely intimidating. He stood a couple inches shorter than him, even with the thick boots. Wide eyes shone resolutely grey-blue, the precise shade of his doublet, under a tumble of feathery white-blond curls cut a bit too short to be fashionable. And... his stubbornly-set jaw was rather less chiseled than Crow was used to seeing. No conveniently placed scars, no gritty dents or smudges on that immaculate armour. Heroes usually had cheekbones that could cut glass, but this one’s were rounded, and slightly rosy to boot. Cherubic was the word that came immediately to mind, and Crow nearly snorted out loud. He looked to be roughly Crow's own age, and was staring determinedly, if anxiously at him from behind that enormous broadsword. There was a long, tense silence as Crow and the armoured man sized each other up. The Hero spoke first. “Now see here, villain, I don’t want to have to kill you, so just turn about and head right back where you came from.” His voice was precise and educated, nearly fussy, and while self-assured was lacking in the usual bravado. Crow blinked, taken aback, and the flames in his hand faltered. “You don’t want to kill me?” “Well…no, not particularly.” The confidence wavered for an instant, then solidified. “Which is not to say that I won’t! Rest assured I will if you cause trouble!”
***
The Crawly Chronicles (series) (179K; Rated T/M/E) by @theladydrgn and @sylwritesstuff
When Aziraphale Fell, reporter for The Daily Messenger, is tasked with a simple story on smuggling, he isn't expecting to find out that Lightbringer, Inc. has been experimenting on something that could be an animal, an oil slick, or something else entirely. He especially isn't expecting that being to come home with him and change his entire life.
I’m a fan of the Tom Hardy Venom movies, which made this two-book, two-short series perfect for me. The books follow the plot of the first two movies, though book 2 also starts with the sexual relationship between the two characters. 
My favorite parts of the story are of the two learning to live together while sharing a body, and Aziraphale trying to figure out how to handle having feelings for a creature he’s permanently attached to who is so completely alien (literally) that he’s not even sure that romantic and sexual love are even an option.
The food the human was making already smelled good enough to eat to them, and they did not want to wait twenty minutes. This time their control of the human's hand was less subtle as they dipped fingers into the leftover batter and brought a generous scoop of the chocolate mix to their mouth. “Nasty human's is what they were.” Aziraphale froze or at least tried to. His mouth seemed to have other ideas, cleaning the mixture from his fingers. “What- Who said that?” he demanded messily, looking around. “I did.”  Aziraphale took several steps back, grasping for the cane he'd left leaning against the counter. The voice sounded as if it were everywhere around him or- or in his own mind somehow. “That's hardly reassuring. Who are you? How did you get into my home?” “Got in the same way you did, human.” They grabbed the bowl of chocolate mixture before the human stumbled too far from it, fingers scraping the last dregs of it to not waste a single bit. The cane fell to the floor.  Aziraphale tried stopping himself, but he couldn't seem to make his hands do what he wanted them to do. “Stop! How-” What in the world was happening and how did he stop it? “No. I'm hungry.” “That doesn't make any sense! Stop!” he demanded, struggling to keep his chocolate covered fingers away from his own mouth. “Fine.” They still felt so weak that fighting this human for control was a struggle and a challenge that they did not want to have. It was just so much easier to slip out between their cells and wrap a long tongue around their fingers instead.
***
And finally, if you made it all the way to the end, thank you!
I have three Good Omens novels of my own I hope you’ll check out, a post-S2 with an upcoming sequel; a “they never met”/fake marriage adventure; and a reverse omens (a WIP as of 27 Dec, 2024; chapters are released on Fridays, and it should be completely posted around mid-February 2025).
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thanks for the tags @cha-melodius @eusuntgratie, @kiwiana-writes, @firenati0n, @run-for-chamo-miles
(snatching the open tags from @caterpills, & @alasse9 while i'm at it)
your girl wrote so much this year ... 349 K words in 58 fics and 14 collections of ficlet friday ficlets (some of which have or are in the process of becoming actual full fics lolz) and a bunch more words in WIPs (40 or so in the folder) that are still waiting for me to just finish them (or come back to them) already! lolz - I wrote in 3 fandoms and 15 different pairings that have been posted this year and a couple others that didn't get there quite yet) - i've officially posted the last of my fics for the year so here we go
so this is a lot of fic listed here so we're gonna so put it behind a cut
JANUARY
Ring on His Finger, Putty in His Hands (RWRB, firstprince, 2.9k, E) - engaged boys that i had so planned to make a series and the rest of the ideas are still sitting in my WIP folder lolz
FEBRUARY
the second hand unwinds (RWRB, firstprince, 3.6k, G) - girldads fic for Hey Sweetheart challenge
i've got you acting like you want more (RWRB, firstprince, 3.3k, E) - brownstone era pre-engagement - the boys re-uniting after a week apart fic also for the Hey Sweetheart challenge
- like the way you work it - (RWRB, firstprince, 3.4k, E) - smut where Henry takes care of Alex
Setting The Bar High (RWRB, firstprince, 2.3k, E) - the boys celebrate their first birthdays in Texas (Becz bday fic)
MARCH
gotta sign 'em all (RWRB, firstprince, 6k, T) - fic inspired by TZP and his fascination with a lil pink book and the way he's so damn ACD-coded
APRIL
Something in your mouth (RWRB, fristprince, 3.7k, E) - fic inspired by the Nickelback song - Alex sees Henry at a party with a sucker in his mouth and needs to experience that mouth
baby just say yes (RWRB, fristprince, 20.6k, E) TSwift fairytale done for the brownstone's eras tour challenge (this was my first firstprince fairytale but i have plans for different one lolz - have a desire to do it better lolz)
MAY
Makin' memories I might remember (RWRB, firstprince, 7k, E) - the first of my not-so-much one night stands fics - this one has alive arthur and has the boys falling in luv with their one night stands
just a bit of fun (RWRB, firstprince, 2.7k, fic for Adina's bday - this all started from a silly convo and then became fic lolz
JUNE
and fight the break of dawn (RWRB, liam/pez, 6.6K, E) a southern philanthropy not-so-much one night stand fic (2nd in series)
JULY
2 is better than 1 - 3 is better than 2 (when we’re back at 2 wanna stay there with u) (RWRB, alex/henry/pip & firstprince, 19.5K, E) this is that alex/henry/pip (fristprinceS) incest-y fic i wrote for Tiff
my slutty royal (RWRB, firstprince, 1.1K, E) this was an inspired by art fic - strawberry helados by papiercranes
nights at the moonlight coffee shop (RWRB, firstprince, 15.1k, E) my werepire all-night coffee shop au for ficwip dark & cozy challenge
AUGUST
in the kitchen, at kensington, with those threadbare pajama pants (RWRB, alex/shaan, 1.2K, E) first in the shaan srivastava is too hot for his own good series - alex "beats it" to thoughts of shaan and his sexy pajama pants
bringing home silver (RWRB, fristprince, 7.7K, E) alex/henry olympics engagement fic (w/a side of southern philanthropy)
I'm gonna be a mighty king … (RWRB, firstprince, 878 words, T) just a silly fic inspired by a QOTD from a discord group
seeking the (sex) services of a witch (RWRB, firstprince, 4.5K, M) fic for ficwip 5K challenge - witch Henry helps out an Alex that may have been cursed
SEPTEMBER
a hug in clothing form (RWRB, firstprince, 3.2K, E) Oodie fic inspired by art - this lovely piece by Ash
in my dreams, at oxford, still with those damn pajama pants (RWRB, firstprince & henry/shaan, 3.6K, E) fic for the shaan srivastava is too hot for his own good series - henry tells alex about some dreams he had and that time he drunkenly hit on shaan - alex seduces it out of him
it's times like these you learn to live again (9-1-1, buddie (at the end), 4.4K, M) streetfigher!Buck buddie fic - came from combining 2 ficlet friday prompts
What if I say I love you (RWRB & 9-1-1, alex/buck, 2.8K, T) firstfire fic - meet the 'rents and "launching their relationship publicly"
on the kiss cam with you (RWRB, firstprince, 1.6k, T) another fic inspired by art - this comic piece by firstprnnce
thoroughly appreciated (RWRB, firstptince, 1K, M) a fic for the brownstone's firstprince week prompt “Did you get my note?” & secrets
help me forget for just a bit... (RWRB, firstprince, 1.2K, E) fic for the brownstone's firstprince week prompt silver & hurt/comfort - alex comforts henry with his mouth after he's had a rough day
you're still written in the scars on my heart (RWRB, firstprince, 2K, T) fic for the brownstone's firstprince week prompt “I can’t do this again” & hot or cold
OCTOBER
soulmates, star wars, and insufferable aresholes (RWRB, firstprince, 1.8k, M) soulmates fic where alex spoiled the death of han solo in his first words to henry - firstprince week fic
love & family is all we need ... (RWRB, firstprince, 953 words, G) Alex helps Henry through a memorial service for Arthur Fox - fox family feels abound - firstprince week fic
Schlorp of True Love, a Fairytale (RWRB, firstprince, 6.3K, E) a crackfic co-write with Mags and Tiff - this is what comes from when we put late night rambles into a doc lolz (soulmates but make it enormous dicks and stretchy holes)
But the words that he was whispering I couldn't stop from listening (RWRB, liam/pez, 4.7K, E) oh what is that i wrote another southern philanthropy - yes, of course! - another installment of my not-so-much one night stands series
these go in the keep pile (911, bucktommy, 1.8k, E) buck finds his old cowboy hat and puts it to good use OR my save horse ride a cowboy bucktommy fic
just a bit of full moon fun (RWRB, firstprince, 9.2K, E) werepire full moon sexin' - sequel to nights at the moonlight coffee shop fic
it takes everything i have not to melt (RWRB, firstprince, 1.4K, T) a first date college au firstprince fic for all-ships ship week
not because of some grand romantic declaration but because it feels right (RWRB, liam/pez, 1.2K, T) a southern philanthropy fic about a quiet night in and liam's feels
how meaningful the silences (RWRB, liam/pez, 1.2K, T) pez's pov of that domestic southern philanthropy
is this dĂŠcor or a sex toy? (RWRB, firstprince, 2.8K, E) a silly lil fic that starts with pez sending the boys things for their new house and ends with them in bed (of course)
she has feelings about this, complicated ones (RWRB, junora, 1.8K, T) ooops! there's just one bed for all-ships ship week
not just a possibility, not just a dream (RWRB, firstprince, 5.1K, M) part 3 of werepire firstprince - this one with an adorable shifter kit that they adopt
NOVEMBER
I hope that someone gets my… (RWRB, firstprince, 12.9K, M) my AWY submission - message in a bottle fic
leaving no doubt that he owns this moment (RWRB, firstprince, 2.9K, M) alex lures henry to a victoria secret show and surprises him (inspired by a tumblr post that i rambled in tags on)
"Wanna get out of here?” (RWRB, alex/pez, 7.5K. E) a pez/alex college au bar hookup
Say that again (RWRB RPF, TZP/Clifton, 1.3K, E) so ... i ventured back into RPF as happens sometimes lolz - just pure smut
souls are not bound by simple explanations (RWRB, fristprince, 8.8K, T) A platonic soulmate fic where Philip is a good brother and Alex and Henry slow burn their way to a relationship. Told from Philip's POV
let me take care of you (RWRB, alex/pez, 6.6K, E) Pez being the great friend he is takes the very best care of an in heat Alex when Henry's out of town
gonna need you to tell me what you want to happen here (RWRB, firstprince & alex/pip, 7.8K, E) Pip reminisces, and Alex reveals something he'd neglected to tell Henry - pip had alex first
DECEMBER
born to ride (RWRB, firstprince, 3.6K, E)  trampstamp cowboy ACD (as this was called on my doc) meets and rides Henry fic that was of course inspired by a tumblr post and rambling in tags (also Leeks bday fic)
made for moments like this (RWRB, firstprince, 931 words, G) this is just Henry being sappy about his little family around the holidays
decorations and family lore (RWRB, firstprince, 905 words, G) Alex and the Fox siblings decorating a tree while they reminisce for rwrb festive fan fest
this year feels different (RWRB, firstprince, 1.3K, E) southern philanthropy soft holiday fic for the rwrb festive fan fest
Punch him with your mouth? (RWRB & 9111, firstprince, buddie, 1K, G) alex and buck are stranded at a hotel due to inclement weather and bond over missed food and feels for the boys in their lives (rwrb fff)
a lifeline through the holiday chaos (RWRB, junora, 1K,M) junora cuddling while watching a holiday movie for the rwrb fff (and Morgan's bday)
underneath the christmas tree (RWRB, firstprince & alex/pip, 7K, E) sequel to 3some fic where martha arranges a gift for pip under the xmas tree for rwrb fff (& tiff - cuz well she get all the sequels lolz)
bonding with his 'sisters'  (RWRB, firstprince, gen, 5.5K, T) Bea recruits Alex to help her and Martha find a gift for Henry and they enjoy a little bit of pampering. Alex bonds with his "fox sisters"
definitely taking a turn for the better (RWRB, alex/liam/pez with some fristprince and southern philanthropy at the end, 2.1K, E) pez brings the boys home from a party and when alex is on his way out he meets henry and well numbers might be exchanged my last fic for rwrbfff
everything he'll ever want (RWRB, liam/pez/spencer, 1.9k, M) a lil bit of holiday tranquility, softness and luv written for The Curio Cabinet rare pair exchange
Lights, Camera, Holliday Luv (RWRB, firstprince, 52K, E) pornstar alex and former boybander henry make a holiday movie and probably fall in luv (my big dec fic - my first multichapter posted chapter by chapter)
as near to peace as he ever gets (RWRB, henry/shaan, 804 words, M) in what has become a tradition when he's sloshed henry rubs off one shaan's thigh, oxford slut phase henry, written from a prompt for the Curio Cabinet that didn't make the cut for the exchange
a moment to savor (RWRB, oscar/raf, 845 words M) bb's first oscar/raf - some kissing on the couch that raf has some thoughts and feels about, also wriitten from a Curio Cabinet prompt
okay no pressure tag ur it to @adreamareads @basil-bird @bitbybitwrites @blueeyedgrlwrites @cactusdragon517
@stnichols @cricketnationrise @dragonflylady77 @dreamtigress @emmalostinwonderland
@england-would-fall @everwitch-magiks @firstprincehornyramblings @firstsprinces @forever-fixating
@hgejfmw-hgejhsf @iboatedhere @inexplicablymine @jmagnabo92 @judasofsuburbia
@mikibwrites @myheartalivewrites @ninzied @nocoastposts
@orchidscript @piratefalls @porcelainmortal @priincebutt
@seths-rogens @softboynick @sophie1973 @sparklepocalypse @stellarmeadow
@stratocumulusperlucidus @suseagull5914 @tailsbeth-writes @taste-thewaste @thedramasummer
@thinkof-england @typicalopposite @thesleepyskipper @thighzp
@tinyarmedtrex @zwiazdziarka
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miserymet ¡ 2 days ago
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Tragedy - Reploid Bass AU
Was digging through my old WIPs and found this bad boy. It’s technically unfinished (because I didn’t know how to end it) but it gets the main point across and establishes the where the plot is at post MMX7. Thought it might be interesting to those who want more details on the AU.
(quick timeline context; Bass gets his memories back post mmx6, disappears off the face of the earth and shows back up again halfway through mmx7)
Summary: Zero and Bass talk about one of Bass’ many regrets. In the process, Zero tries to connect the brother he knew as Forte to the stranger wearing his face.
“I wasn’t supposed to be here.”
The words are quiet. Not soft, as nothing Zero’s brother does is soft anymore, but they lack the usual bite. It’s enough to draw Zero’s attention to where Bass now sits. 
The chair holding him is old, a mundane relic of the furniture that was commonplace over a hundred years ago. It’s a miracle that it hasn’t crumbled under the weight of its occupant, but Bass had mentioned that the entire base was designed around its mechanical residents. Perhaps its creator imagined one of his robots might need to use a chair. Even if there’s not much of a difference between sitting and standing for them.
Zero’s surprised to see that Bass has his back turned to him. His brother isn’t too keen on letting Zero out of his sight nowadays, but his gaze is firmly fixed upon the screen in front of him now. Another uncharacteristic behavior. Zero sets aside the spare parts he was examining, all interest gone, and approaches the screen that has his brother so transfixed. It casts a dim light even in the darkness of the base, but the image is clear enough.
It’s an old contact log. A few lines of text sit at the bottom of the screen and for some reason, Zero feels the need to read them aloud.
“Bass. I made a mistake. I created something that I can’t control. You’re the only robot strong enough to stop it. Please help me.” He furrows his brow as he speaks the final line. “I’m sorry.”
“Six lines. Twenty six words. A hundred and fifteen characters.” Bass mutters.
“What does it mean?” 
It’s a genuine question, and maybe that’s why Bass laughs as though it’s the stupidest thing he could have asked. Zero waits with bitter patience for his brother to finish. This is typical of Bass’ new personality. Brash, abrasive, rude, all of these words and more fit the new image Zero’s brother has made for himself. Even his name is new. “Bass.” It’s been a bit of an adjustment to say the least.
Eventually, Bass manages to pull himself out of his laughing fit. His next words are the last thing Zero expects to hear.
“These are the words that killed me.”
“…I thought I did that.” Is all Zero can say to that. Bass laughs, much quieter this time.
“In the end, yeah.” His brother leans back in his seat. “But fighting you wasn’t-, I didn’t…”
“You ‘weren’t supposed’ to?” Zero volunteers.
“…I shouldn’t have.”
Bass goes quiet, lost in whatever old memories are haunting him today. Zero can’t help but feel frustrated. He used to know what to do when Bass…when Forte was upset. Whether it was about his lost memories, his weakness, his outdated code, Zero could always help. It’s different now.
Everything’s different now.
“Do you remember what I told you about our creator? How we didn’t really get along?” Bass starts, gaze still stuck on that old log.
“Because of your penchant for rebellion, yes.”
“That was only half of it. Yeah, I disobeyed him whenever I felt like it, but he wasn’t some doting father.” His brother turns to glare at him. “He was the most selfish, stubborn, stupid old man I ever met. Full of himself, too. You would have hated him.”
“That sounds a lot like you.” Zero can’t help the bite to his words. Maybe X was right. Maybe all this is getting to him. “Where are you going with this?”
“I was loyal at first. The old man had a lot of expectations for me, and I was determined to meet them. I didn’t. No matter how hard I tried, how strong I was, it was never going to be good enough if I couldn’t beat-,”
He stops abruptly, almost letting something slip. Something important. Bass is always vague about his old memories. He’s hiding something, but Zero can’t tell if it’s because it’s too risky or because he’s hoarding all that’s left of his past. It could really be either one. Zero isn’t sure he knows Bass all that well anymore.
“The point is, I was a failure to him. So he tried to move on. Build something else.” Bass shakes his head. “I couldn’t accept that. We fought. First it was just arguments, but it escalated. Before I knew it we were trying to kill each other.”
“What did you do?” Zero asks, though he’s not sure he wants to hear the answer.
“I left.”
Oh. Zero wasn’t expecting that.
“It sounds obvious, right?” His brother rests his head against his hand, expression flat. “But I wasn’t a reploid. I didn’t have the programming X or Axl did. It wasn’t as simple as changing my career. I was leaving my creator.”
“Bass…”
He doesn’t let Zero get a word in. “I agonized over it for days. What was I if not his robot? What could I even do without him? I was practically one foot out the door already, but I couldn’t move the other one. I…cared about him.”
Zero tries to imagine it. Bass, in his original body, standing beside a vague figure. His gaze sweeps across the room and Zero sees Bass sitting on a table full of junk, swinging his legs as he speaks to his creator. What did his face look like? Was it flat and cold, speaking in an even tone about plans or progress or whatever a man like that saw fit to discuss with his creation? Or was he annoyed, brow furrowed with one dipping lower than the other and mouth pulled into a small pout? Maybe it was a face Zero had never seen before, a soft smile, a wry grin that so clearly spelled out his amusement. 
He can only imagine. When he turns back to his brother, Bass wears the grimace he’s grown so used to.
“That was how I convinced myself to leave, in the end.” He breathes an empty sigh. “If I stayed, I might have hurt him. Might have let my anger take me to far and…”
His hands move in front of him, digits curled tightly around an invisible enemy. They hang in the air for a moment and shake. Then they fall. Bass lets his head follow them.
“You came back.” Zero speaks softly, trying for a gentleness he’s never been good at. “Why?”
Bass doesn’t pick up his head. “Same reason. I cared.”
“He made a robot, couldn’t control it and called you for help.” It feels both more and less real when he says it aloud. “He called you to your death.”
“And I came. I came because I am a fucking idiot.”
Zero blinks at the harsh language. Bass is far from the composed brother he knew, but even he didn’t use that language regularly. It feels strange. Forte would never, but Bass…it fits him a little more.
“He didn’t even have to apologize. The moment he came to me for help, the moment he called me strong-,” Bass grips his head in his hands. “All my conviction disappeared. I walked into that lab, this lab-!” He throws out his hands, nearly hitting Zero, “and I died for the man that tried to kill me!”
Zero doesn’t know what to say. What can he say? This is something he’s just learned, a grief he can only imagine. Bass has lived with this knowledge since the day he got his memories back. How did he feel, waking up and knowing that he lost everything to a man long gone? How do you live with that burden? How do you keep fighting?
Bass shoots up from his chair, gaze now fixed on Zero. There’s so much behind his eyes that Zero can’t see. A world no one alive has any hope of understanding.
“I was so close to being happy! To having something other than a worthless creator who only tolerated me as long as he could use me!”
His brother takes a step forward, the light of the screen illuminating every tear that falls from his face.
“And he took that from me! You took that from me!”
“I’m sorry-“
Zero sees the punch coming. He almost dodges. It’s what every self-preservation program in him begs him to do. He doesn’t. He takes it. The punch is hard, snapping his head to the side quite painfully. He doesn’t flinch. Not even when Bass’ fist splits the synthetic skin of his cheek. All he does is look back at his brother.
Bass stands there, eyes wide and mouth open. His arm hangs in the air. He can see the grime left on his hands. Can see the tension in every part of his body. Then, it shifts. Bass drops his hand and closes his mouth. That glare returns, fierce as ever.
“Don’t pity me. It’s too late for that.”
Zero tries to find his words. “I don’t-,”
“That hit only landed because you let it.” Bass casts his gaze to the side. “Everything I do to you is because you let me. Even in this body, I’m not strong enough.”
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out-there-tmblr ¡ 2 days ago
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Young Zaundads wip (13)
***
"Cover for me, will you?" Vander calls out to Benzo, grabbing his gauntlets as he goes. He doesn't wait for Benzo to begrudgingly agree, just heads straight for the elevator. As it rumbles and creaks its way down to level three, Vander waits for the siren, the short sharp burst to evacuate, but it doesn't come. He felt the ground move under his feet – he felt it – and a cave in most likely means level three, where the tunnels are still narrow and might not be reinforced.
He shoves the metal gate open, and strides into the tunnels as if he belongs here. He looks for a runner, and spots a teen boy with grey eyes who looks vaguely familiar. He doesn't know all of the foundling kids but they know him. He only has to nod at the boy and ask, "Silco?" and the kid leads him down into the dark.
The tunnels on level one are wide and reinforced, with lines of lights strung along the tunnel walls. Here, Vander has to duck his head to fit. There are no lights strung along, only the occasional glow from lanterns where miners are working. The kid doesn't seem to need them, just keeps scurrying along, even as the tunnel gets narrow enough that Vander has to hunch his shoulders to fit through.
"Bugs," Silco's voice calls out of the darkness. "Don't come up here."
The kid stops and then points the way to Vander.
"This way?" Vander asks and the boy nods. "Thanks, Bugs."
A light appears around the corner of the tunnel, and Silco's peers around. "Vander? What are you doing here?"
It's a perfectly reasonable question but Vander doesn't have a good answer for it. He should be up on level one, clearing rocks with Benzo. "I felt the ground move. I wanted to make sure you were okay."
The lantern casts harsh shadows across Silco's face, making him look harder and worn. "I wasn't caught in it. I was in the next tunnel over."
"Are you okay?" Vander steps forward, reaching for Silco's shoulder but Silco takes a sharp step backwards, out of reach. The lantern swings in his hand, and Vander sees the ruin of the tunnel behind him. A few steps away the tunnel is just a pile of rocks and sand, the whole opening closed.
There's something pale caught amongst the fallen rocks. Vander squints at it but it takes a moment to realise it's a hand. A small, dirty hand. A kid's hand. "There's someone trapped in there."
"No," Silco says, shaking his head.
The last time there was a cave-in, the sirens blew and everyone came down to try to get them out. There were lines of miners, all working together. Vander doesn't understand why they're standing around doing nothing.
"Turn around," he says to Silco. "I can see someone's in there. We have to get them out. They should sound the sirens."
He steps forward, about to pull on his gauntlets but Silco grabs them out of his hand.
"Look above you," Silco says, pointing at the ceiling of the cave. "They didn't follow the bedrock. They tunneled straight ahead and didn't pay attention to the rock around them. It wasn't solid bedrock, it was silt and clay. If you dig under those, nothing will hold the tunnel up. It will collapse under its own weight and crush you."
"But…"
"They're already dead, Vander," Silco says, calm and cold as if he doesn't know every foundling by name. He probably knows exactly who's under there. "Anyone who tries to dig them out will just set off another collapse, and die beside them."
"So they'll just leave them? Just leave the bodies there?"
"We'll set charges. Collapse it at the neck and stop anyone else digging in there."
Maybe Vander doesn't have the right to be upset about them. He didn't know them, but there's something heartbreaking about those small fingers lying there, limply curled. "But the bodies…"
"They're foundlings," Silco says, voice low and furious. "There's no one to bury them anyway."
"We could. We could take them to the river, bury them in the depths."
Silco turns to him and suddenly that mask of indifference slips. He doesn't look cold or angry, he just looks sad. "You really would, wouldn't you?"
Vander nods.
Silco tilts his head down and rubs the back of his gloves across his face. When he looks up, his mask is back in place. "I need to set the charges. You should go back to work."
"Benzo's covering for me," Vander says because it feels like bragging to say he's already met today's quota. Nobody likes it when he mentions that.
Silco frowns at him. "Don't be the only one losing a day's pay over this."
***
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chaoticstrata ¡ 1 day ago
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Small WIP Crow!rookanis fic
It took time for almost everyone to filter out of the dining hall after dinner. The last was Bellara and Emmrich, deep in discussion about an artifact that was recently discovered in the Lighthouse. Manfred happily trailed along after them, and gave a resounding ‘Yay!’ when they got excited about something. Rook couldn’t hear what it was, elbows deep in suds as he cleaned the dishes, but still chuckled at the skeleton’s enthusiasm.
“You know,” Lucanis said, walking up and leaning against the sink beside him. Crossing his arms, his fellow assassin gave him a soft look. “You could get those done faster if you allowed me to help.”
“First off, you cooked, so no dishes for you. Those are the rules,” Rook said, reaching and dabbing some of the soap suds on Lucanis’ nose.
The older man laughed, wiping them off as he asked, “And secondly?”
“Maybe I like you watching me work,” Rook replied with a flirty grin.
A soft blush bloomed over Lucanis’ cheeks as he glanced away with a small grin.
“Well,” he said, looking back at Rook taking a step closer. “I can’t say I don’t like watching you work…”
“Oh? Is that so?” Rook asked, drying the last plate and setting it down. He hung the towel over the towel rack and took a step back, seeing if Lucanis would give chase. The older Crow didn’t disappoint, taking another step closer.
“How did you like the churros?” he asked, meeting Rook step for step until the younger man was backed up against the stove. Rook could feel some warmth come off of it, but it was nowhere near hot enough to burn.
“They were divine, the best I’ve had…” Rook paused after that and took a quick look around, as if someone would pop up out of nowhere. “Do not tell my mother I said that…she’d kill me…then find a way to raise me…then kill me again…”
Lucanis chuckled deeply, taking one final step closer to him. His hands came to rest on the stove on each side of Rook’s hips, one leg sliding between his thighs. They weren’t quite flush with one another, but all the Demon of Vyrantium had to do was take a step even closer and they would be.
“My lips are sealed,” Lucanis purred with a smug little smirk.
“Oh? Are they now?” Rook questioned teasingly, hooking a finger on the chain that connected his lapel pins. Gently, he pulled Lucanis in closer by it.
“Mmm hmm,” the older assassin hummed, head tilting slighting as he followed the tug of the chain.
“Perhaps I should double-check to make sure,” Rook all but whispered, before he met Lucanis’ lips with his own. It took everything in him not to moan at the touch. Maker, was it bliss--and well worth the wait. Lucanis shivered against him and made a soft noise in the back of his throat as he wrapped an arm around Rook’s waist. Their lips moved in a slow dance as they learned each other’s mouth. Rook reached up and cupped the back of Lucanis’ head, fingers weaving the layers of his wolf’s cut. The strands were so soft to the touch, he foresaw himself running those strands through his fingers endlessly.
----------
They finally got to that first kiss. ;-;
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littlemissgeek8 ¡ 1 day ago
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Gonna toss a couple snippets from my current WIP, an as-yet-untitled AU fic featuring an arranged marriage between my Cadash and the Viscount of Kirkwall, one Varric Tethras. Putting two snippets in because well, they're short and the second one is drama.
-------
"You said there were other girls staying here before me?" she asked, undoing the lacing on her wet dress.
"Aye, a handful or so, showed up one after the other," Eliza replied. "All dolled up they were, painted and everything. Showed up one after the other and spent their time hanging off his Excellency when they weren't loitering about in their best clothes or wandering off to the market." She shook her head with a frown. "Rubbed all of us the wrong way. We couldn't have been gladder to see each of them go."
Darvia paused, her head still inside the dress she was putting on. "Go? Where did they go?"
"Nobody's quite sure, one day they were here, the next they were gone. Good riddance to bad rubbish, I say."
A cold chill swept down Darvia's back. Gone, just like that. She'd wondered at first if they were live-in courtesans hired by the Viscount, from the descriptions the housekeeper had given. But if they were like her... had they been brides for the Viscount as well? In the back of her head she remembered hearing a story about some Orlesian noble who'd married wife after wife and murdered them in a secret room in his castle. Beard-someone or other, Orlesians had strange names. Slowly she took her braids down from where they were pinned on top of her head and began to undo them so they'd dry properly.
Was she in danger too? She'd have to be on her guard. Still behind the screen, she lifted her dress and double checked the daggers strapped to her thighs, making sure they were secure. Then, she resettled her skirts and walked over to the bed. "May I help you tidy up? I'm used to taking care of myself back home."
"Bed's just about made, but if you'd like to stash your clothes and belongings, the wardrobe's beside you," Eliza called. Darvia nodded and set about dragging her trunk over to unpack, taking extra care with the lacquered box. She gave it a gentle stroke before closing the wardrobe doors on it.
Beware, Serah No-Beard, this bride has claws.
------
The Viscount of Kirkwall lay curled on the ground, surrounded by the remains of a tray of porcelain and an overturned chair.
All her years of carta work seemed to unfurl themselves, spurring her body to act even as her brain reeled at the sight. She dashed across the floor, grateful for the carpet that prevented her feet from sliding, and dropped down beside the man on the floor. His chest still rose and fell, albeit erratically, so she wasn’t looking for a cause of death. There was also no visible blood on the floor or his clothing, so she could put stabbing lower on the list.
Eyes still open, but barely-- good. He hadn’t lost consciousness. Yet. No chance of his clothes strangling him with that wide neckline. Darvia reminded herself to say a prayer later thanking the Maker for the man’s vanity. His fair skin was flushed across the cheeks, with wisps of red-gold hair plastered to his forehead by sweat. Her fingers slid to his neck, finding a fast heartbeat.
Dilated eyes, rapid pulse, flushed skin, whatever weakness or dizziness threw him to the floor… she knew it had to be poison. The remains of the tray said likely ingested. She longed to investigate more, but dared not leave his side.
“BRAN!” she shouted, gathering up all of her breath into a bellow. “SENESCHAL BRAN!” The sound echoed off the cold stone walls. Maker, let him hear me, she begged silently.
“Must you yell?” a raspy voice came from below her. Darvia stared down at the man before her, a burst of hope swelling in her chest. “Some of us happen to have a headache.” A rough cough burst from his lips, shaking through his whole body.
“Headache!” Darvia replied with enthusiasm. “Dizziness? Weakness?”
“Do you think I’d be on the floor if the room wasn’t spinning, Carta?”
A faint smile crossed Darvia’s face. His jokes were just whistling in the dark, to be sure, but at least he had the presence of mind to joke in the first place. “Good to know, I might have thought this was the Viscount of Kirkwall’s idea of a good time,” she teased, but the humor felt forced as it left her lips. If it could just keep him conscious and talking though…
Helllloooooo! I know people are maybe tired/busy/unavailable today, so no pressure or anything, but I thought we could all share WIPs today?
Writing, art, whatever you want! (I’m gonna tag DA bc most people are here for that, but feel free to share no matter what you’re working on!)
I’ll post mine in a bit! Rb + add !
No pressure of course— have a great day! ☀️
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ruporas ¡ 1 year ago
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i made a digital vw zine, there's a bunch of stuff on here that hasn't been shared elsewhere! if you're looking for a barrage of vw being really clingy and all, look no further :]
LINK
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bizarrelittlemew ¡ 1 year ago
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calling it right now that season 3 starts like this
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tomaturtles ¡ 7 months ago
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Got inspired by this and had to
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deoidesign ¡ 3 months ago
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when your main characters start dating after years of writing so they finally get to be like this
#rare WIP preview from me#this is in like. 10 episodes. lmfao#its been really hard working this far ahead#my editor isnt giving me any feedback and my friends are very busy so it's felt quite lonely#which is fine! for my friends I mean. but its my editors job to give me feedback...#but the webtoon editors are extremely extremely extremely overworked and my series is set to end so I understand its low priority#its not her fault its webtoons fault. however. its still demotivating...#oh well l m a o#I should be much further ahead ngl LMFAO I want like 12 done but I come back in 2 weeks.#we'll see#when I get really stressed out I go full gamer mode#and usually I'll sink like 60 hours (like 5 days) into a game and then I'm good and move on#but this recent game that grabbed me is. its too much actually#bit uncontrollable ngl I think its an ADHD thing I mostly have just quit playing videogames at all#cause its like yeah being stressed cause theres too much work to do is not going to be helped by losing a week and a half to a game...#and yet.#anyways the game is satisfactory#my friend bought it for me and we've been playing together#and our shared file has. 100 hours on it. and we still havent beaten the game#we're close to beating it and it's not like we're rushing or anything#cause its fun to fuck around and zap eachother or whatever#but it's got me doing math. the exact kind of math I love to do. optimization#and its reminding me yeah in another life id have been an engineer#I'm glad I'm an artist but its always weird like yeah this is easily a path I could have gone down#'artists hate math' speak for yourself doing math calms me down! I love math!#I love math and I love business. I'm almost the perfect artist but I hate advertising so. we can't have it all#anyways theyre so fucking cute its sickening. I love them so much. I could cry#WIP#lineart#time and time again
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saessenach ¡ 2 months ago
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I keep threatening to draw heartbreaking galadriel/sauron things and yet when I actually get down to it, they want to be tender and naked instead so who am I to refuse them
EDIT: finished piece (and full sketchdump) here
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simandy ¡ 10 months ago
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do you guys mind if i go crazy for a moment
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carrioncider ¡ 6 months ago
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gonna be unable to draw for a week so i offer buttercup calcite ROUGH wip that i'll return to later :D (design by @marblegroves). i am not immune to rolleskating disco swag
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lil bonus. i love four-armed characters, love to draw 'em. never ask me to animate four-armed characters SJSJ
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edmunderson ¡ 1 month ago
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things you see in a graveyard*
*a graverobber and his chronically ill boyfriend making a date out of harvesting zydrate
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artist-rat ¡ 11 months ago
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When the world seems grim and dark / When the sky won't show a star / When fog is thicker than the sea
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b1adie ¡ 5 months ago
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