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Banner art by @christophjpg

[blackjeans93]

Antarctic Heat Chapter 3 -  An omegaverse AU of the Polar Siren AU - by xenanigans.

Cover art by @kiratastic. Show them some support on Patreon, Instagram, Reddit, and Bluesky. CW explicit, omegaverse

Summary: The year is 1911. Anthony J. Crowley (Royal Navy surgeon, passionate zoologist, and official photographer of the Northern Party) is preparing to go into heat, all by his lonesome on a remote beach in East Antarctica.

Everything changes when he catches an odd scent in the air.

Fully written. 30k words. 70% smut. Updates every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.

This story can be enjoyed on its own, but you’ll probably have more fun if you read I have my ways of knowing first ;)

Excerpt: “Good morrow, ô méga,” the surfaced stranger said, resting their arms on that frozen raft like it was the edge of a warm bathing pool back in England. “My name is Aziraphale.”

Crowley just stared, dumbfounded.

What kind of person introduced themself without stating their pronouns as well?

What kind of person pronounced the word ‘omega’ with such an odd inflection?

What kind of person even said ‘good morrow’ in this day and age?

The kind of person who could swim naked in the Antarctic Ocean without so much as a shiver, by the looks of it.

“Hello? Are you there?”

“Huh?” Crowley breathed, snapping out of his startled state. “I mean, um, hello… my name’s Crowley, and I’m a he.”

“Oh,” the person in the water said with a curious eyebrow. “I am a he as well, I suppose.”

The alpha in the water, Crowley corrected himself, having just caught a better whiff of his pheromones thanks to a conveniently timed gust of ocean breeze. His scent was…

Not just salty, but briny.

Not just syrupy, but treacly.

Not just savoury, but gamey.

Well, he should have figured it out from the way the strange man had referred to him as ‘omega’, but he’d been too distracted by everything else to really dwell on that part.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Crowley.”

“Um… the pleasure’s all mine— Aziraphale, was it?”

“Indeed,” the alpha smiled politely, revealing teeth that were more than a bit too sharp. Read the rest here on ao3 *** xenanigans passed away on 28/04/26 

This fic is published in his memory by blackjeans93 as his fannish next of kin.

All words were written by xenanigans.

GNU, Exus.

[moonminchild]

Happy pride month people ☀️

[blackjeans93]

There You Are Chapter 12 - A post season 3 Good Omens fic

CW Reincarnation

Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale return to themselves in the bookshop before God and Satan after living a full life as Anthony J Crowley and Asa Fell. Excerpt: With newfound determination, Aziraphale cast about for something, anything that might help their situation. He picked through some of the volumes on the floor, and found that every previously blank page was now filled.

He stared.

They were stories.

Fully written stories.

Thousands and thousands of them.

Containing every life they had lived together. Their love, recorded in immaculate detail. 

However…

There was more to it than that.

They weren’t the only ones in the stories.

In between chapters, between years and lifetimes and deaths, the narrative would abruptly return to bookshop. 

To God and Satan.

Aziraphale opened one volume at random. He found a passage describing God calmly watching as Satan paced circles around the bookshop for what had apparently been thirty-seven years, muttering about potential structural weaknesses in the walls.

Another detailed Satan attempting to burn a shelf in frustration, only for the flames to refuse to take hold. Read the rest here on ao3

[dingledraw]

Shhh! Their favorite show is on 🤫🌍

[blackjeans93]

this is absolutely adorable

[blackjeans93]

Antarctic Heat Chapter 2 -  An omegaverse AU of the Polar Siren AU - by xenanigans.

Cover art by @kiratastic!

Show them some support on Patreon, Instagram, Reddit and Bluesky.

CW explicit, omegaverse

Summary: The year is 1911. Anthony J. Crowley (Royal Navy surgeon, passionate zoologist, and official photographer of the Northern Party) is preparing to go into heat, all by his lonesome on a remote beach in East Antarctica.

Everything changes when he catches an odd scent in the air.

Fully written. 30k words. 70% smut. Updates every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.

This story can be enjoyed on its own, but you’ll probably have more fun if you read I have my ways of knowing first ;)

Excerpt: Crowley sighed and curled up in his nest for a spot of light reading. He opened up one of his favourite classic novels — Great Expectations by Charles Dickens. It was a bildungsroman with a love story between two alphas: Pip, an orphan of humble beginnings, and Herbert Pocket, a pale gentleman from a middle-class family with wealthy relatives. He made it to the end of chapter six before he got restless again; the wind wasn’t blowing anymore, so he decided to go for another stroll with his camera.

He frowned as soon as he stepped outside.

Why did the ocean suddenly smell saltier than usual?

His heat must have been looming closer than he thought.

Or perhaps the morning wind had stirred something in the water?

He shrugged, put his hands in his pockets, and began walking north.

The sea was calm; the ice floes were barely drifting, even far from shore, where the current was typically quite strong. The air was calm as well; not a modicum of breeze, not a cloud in the blue sky, nothing but the unending Antarctic summer sun.

If everything was so very calm, then why couldn’t he shake the feeling that he was being watched — or perhaps even followed? Which was a ridiculous notion, of course; there was no one around Ridley Beach except for him, a million Adélie penguins, and a few hundred skua gulls.

He still found himself taking surreptitious looks behind his back. Read the rest here on ao3

xenanigans passed away on 28/04/26 

This fic is published in his memory by blackjeans93 as his fannish next of kin.

All words were written by xenanigans.

GNU, Exus.

[sarah-the-artiste]

It didn't feel right not to include these two as well all things considered. I fell in love with them so quickly and so completely. This one took me a while to get the colors just right, but I think it was worth it.

[blackjeans93]

Antarctic Heat Chapter 1 - An Omegaverse AU of the Polar Siren AU - By xenanigans

Cover art by @kiratastic Check out their work on patreon, instagram, bluesky and reddit CW explicit, omegaverse

Summary: The year is 1911. Anthony J. Crowley (Royal Navy surgeon, passionate zoologist, and official photographer of the Northern Party) is preparing to go into heat, all by his lonesome on a remote beach in East Antarctica.

Everything changes when he catches an odd scent in the air.

Fully written. 30k words. 70% smut. Updates every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.

This story can be enjoyed on its own, but you’ll probably have more fun if you read I have my ways of knowing first ;)

Excerpt: The sun didn’t even set that time of year, but all six members of the Northern Party rose bright and early in the morning of November 7th, 1911. 

Anthony J. Crowley took care of breakfast that day, although that wasn’t typically his job — he was a Royal Navy surgeon, after all. But everyone else was busy as they finished preparing for the last sledging trip of the season: Commander Shadwell was supervising; his three petty officers (Warlock Dowling, Eve Young, Newton Pulsifer) were finishing loading up their sleds; and Anathema Device, civilian geologist and meteorologist, was outside the hut jotting down a few last measurements before they left for the week.

Their meal consisted of porridge, bacon, and crab-eater seal steak. Crowley could have served penguin steak instead, but he’d been growing more and more uneasy with the idea of eating penguin meat as of late. In addition to being a surgeon, he was also a passionate zoologist, and it just so happened that the Northern Party had been living on the south end of an Adélie penguin rookery for most of that year.

Ridley Beach, Cape Adare, Antarctica had been teeming with flightless birds when Captain Scott’s ship, the Terra Nova, had dropped them off with all the necessary supplies and provisions at the end of February. The Adélies had all left by late March, only to return in mid October for their new breeding season. Crowley had spent the last few weeks observing them closely, and was considering writing a book about them once he returned to Britain.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come along?” Device asked as she blew on her porridge.

“Like I said, I think it’s better for the science if I stay here. Wouldn’t want to miss anything important now that the penguins have begun laying their eggs.”

Science was only one of the reasons why Crowley wanted to spend some time by himself.

Heat was the other, much more urgent one. Read the rest here on ao3 *** xenanigans passed away on 28/04/26 

This fic is published in his memory by blackjeans93 as his fannish next of kin.

All words were written by xenanigans.

GNU, Exus. @goodomensafterdark

[blackjeans93]

There You Are Chapter 11 - a post season 3 Good Omens fic

Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale return to themselves in the bookshop before God and Satan after living a full life as Anthony J Crowley and Asa Fell. CW Reincarnation, body horror

Excerpt: Crowley collapsed to his knees the moment his consciousness resurfaced.

He just couldn’t do it anymore. 

His mind and body could only take so much, no matter how hard he tried to weather the discomfort.

Aziraphale was beside him instantly.

“My dear—”

Crowley made a strangled sound, holding his head.

It was too much.

Far too much.

It was more than just memories — it was entire existences layered one over another endlessly. Every version of himself with its own unique personality and point of view, every version speaking its truth simultaneously inside his mind.

Every death.

Every loss.

Every love.

All at once.

A violent surge rolled through his body, rippling his spine, pushing him to the floor. His human skin momentarily split across his hand, revealing glimpses of something ancient and enormous underneath, fighting for space. 

Multiple yellow eyes.

Feathers.

Scales. Read the rest here on ao3!

[kotias]

I'll be honest, it's very depressing to see so much negativity in the Good Omens fandom, when it was so vibrant and amazing after season 2.

I get it, a bunch of the fandom is feeling disappointed, shocked, some clearly outraged at what's been given to us.

I personally don't mind the finale, so it's probably why I'm getting bugged at the amount of negativity, but honestly I had already clocked out a bit out of the fandom a few months ago, and this is just making me step out for good.

I get the anguish and anger and strong feelings, but it's completely flooded my feed, over and over and over. I'm busy dealing with my own depression, I'm not going to let a finale written by a trash man ruin all my efforts.

I'm very happy with everything I've been through with the fandom, it's been an amazing time, but now I'm just feeling very overwhelmed by the amount of people who are venting and raging about the finale.

Please don't forget that this is fiction. And that fandoms have this amazing ability to: create more of it.

Don't forget that this was originally a single book. Everything that's been given after season 1 was just extra content. You can make the choice that you want; but you're not obligated to see the last two seasons as canon just because they were professionally paid for.

I get the anger. But an ending, as shitty as you might think it is, doesn't mean that a fandom dies. Case and point: the Naruto and Harry Potter fandoms are about as strong as ever on AO3, despite being done for over a decade. So goes the Supernatural fandom, done for over 5 years.

Believe me, the power of spite in fandom creativity is very strong. Use it. 😈

[divinitydemon]

Sorry for the lack of art lately. Found myself emotionally and creatively drained after the finale. But anyway, I still can't stop thinking about The Hands.

[Please don't reupload my art!]

[blackjeans93]

Nine Inch Scales - Epilogue

Cover art by @and-his-hands-were-24-crows Thank you so much, Crows! Please show them some support by checking out their work on Instagram and ao3!

And a huge thank you to my beta harem, who have been with me on this journey for over a year now: @totheendtimes, @Nightshiftcaffeine, @ineffable-xenanigans, @nosferatini, @moderndayklutz, @Savyl and @TansyOggAdditional in story art by Demented_DeMeown, @avadoingart-imus and @divinitydemon

CW for this chapter: Genderfluid Crowley, changing pronouns for Crowley

Summary:

After long months of touring, Crowley finally comes home.

Aziraphale is waiting for him, and finally there is no audience to impress. Exhausted from the weight of performance and the burden of being who everyone expects him to be, Crowley makes a choice to set aside his armour and return to a shape he reserves for the person he trusts most.

In the safety of home, Crowley allows himself to be vulnerable, and Aziraphale responds as he always has: with unwavering love, acceptance and understanding.

Excerpt:

By the time the last flightcase was latched shut and loaded away, Crowley was vibrating with impatience.

He didn’t linger. He couldn’t.

Newt and Silvia talked about logistics: when the crew could be expected to return their equipment to them, hotel reservations, the sensible unwinding talk of a triumphant finale, but Crowley barely heard them. His goodbyes were abrupt, but still warm. He proudly squeezed Silvia’s shoulder, smiled at Newt, and promised to call after he’d rested and the ringing in his ears had stopped.

Then, he was gone, racing to the Bentley, shrugging his coat into place as he went.

London was awake and glittering behind him, but he didn’t look back.

The Bentley readily roared awake as if she’d been waiting for this exact moment.

Crowley drove as though he could outrun time, the streetlights blurring into molten lines of gold, the engine responding not just to pressure on the pedal but to want. The car would always take him where he intended to go. They cut through the night together, fast enough that thought and driver input fell away, leaving only instinct and yearning in its wake.

He should have been exhausted. Two months of performances, of crowds and noise. And then tonight, fully giving himself over to the audience, and all the emotional upheaval that involved. His body and soul ached with it, in a surprisingly cathartic way. But beneath the fatigue was a spark of excitement that wouldn’t be extinguished.

He was going home.

Read the rest here on ao3!

Want somewhere to discuss the chapter? Join The Braincell Discord

In memory, always, of Xenanigans.

GNU, Exus.

[basilplane]

I can feel when you break me

COMIC UPDATE ON AO3 PLEASE ENJOY 🙏🏼

I'm sorry I cannot keep up with adding all the pages to each update post (and I ran out of room with the number of images I'm allowed to include in a single post) BUT! Use the "what if Trent did IFS but it was hot" and/or "trentcest" tags to find the previous posts :) or just go to ao3.

Look he's kinda making the face! I didn't even realize it until after I had drawn my thing and then I remembered this photo existed

[eluetime]

I see you

[siaillustrations]

Happy Pride Month 🌈

[owinous]

Good omens 3 has me by the balls rn

MY TABLET IS HERE AND IM READY TO PARTY!!!!! please forgive the handwritten text I havent imported my old comic font yet

[owinous]

Check your messages bro

I'm thinking about making merch! Feel free to leave suggestions for me on things you think would be really cute. (Or devastating. Im down with devastating too.)

[owinous]

I will keep posting these because I get joy from the ending