#freyjawriter24

[tweedfeather]

The first chapter of The Sapling, a Reverse Bang fic written by @freyjawriter24 and illustrated by me, is now up!

Aziraphale and Crowley’s Arrangement takes seed and begins to sprout in more ways than one...

I had so much fun partnering with freyjawriter24 for the @do-it-with-style-events Reverse Bang, and we’re delighted to finally share this project with you all! Stay tuned for the next instalment!

[aziraphales-library]

Lost Fic #80

1. Hi! I'm searching for a particular fic that I thought I had bookmarked but I can't find now, and was hoping you could help.

It was a crossover with an old (17th century?) poem that featured a demon repenting and being welcomed back into Heaven. The fic compared that now-angel with Crowley (who would never go back), and the relationship between Aziraphale and Crowley with the repenter and their angel partner. The original poem was, iirc, very queer for the time, but I can't for the life of me remember its title or writer, or the name of the angels, which isn't helping me find the fic!

Thank you so much in advance! ~@freyjawriter24

2. Read a fic a while back and was hoping someone could help me find it again. I think it took place in WWII in a bomb shelter that partially collapses trapping/injuring Aziraphale? Crowley stays with him until he can be dug out when the bombing has ended. ~anon

3. i must have read a fic at some point that said this or something like it, bc i have "best friend, sole companion through the ages, the love of their eternal life" stuck thoroughly in my head and it is killing me that i don't remember where i heard it... help? ~anon

4. Hi, I can’t find a fic and it’s driving me crazy. It’s one where Aziraphale and Crowley begin living together sometime around Mesopotamia or earlier. They begin as friends and slow burn into a marriage and romance through history to stopping Armageddon. Heaven knows about them but Aziraphale justifies it as keeping his opposition close and reducing his opportunity to do evil. Michael is Aziraphale’s boss instead of Gabriel and buys into it. She is a pretty hands off boss. The holy water fight still happens but Crowley goes back to the flat above the bookshop because he lives there too and sleeps a while (though not a century). They talk things out as soon as he wakes up. Any help finding this fic would be very appreciated 😊 ~@enchantingwindsong

5. I seem to have lost a fic. I think it was in the cottage, Aziraphale wanted to take a bath but the tub reminded him of Hell, Crowley's shirt was hanging on the edge of the tub, so Aziraphale thought Crowley is dead. Aziraphale tries to grab the shirt, the last thing he has left of Crowley. Crowley finds him and tries to pull him away from the tub, but Aziraphale thinks it's the demons pulling him away from Crowley. I think they got rid of the tub at the end? Thank you for your work here! <3 ~anon

If you know one of these fics, please leave the number in your response!

~ Mod G

[cupidsbower]

A love-heat relationship

Good Omens, Aziraphale/&Crowley, G

Art for @freyjawriter24, in the @good-snowmens exchange, 2020.

Prompts filled include: hiding away from snow, comfort food and sweet treats, being with loved ones, and (hopefully) also angst with a happy ending - the expressions on Aziraphale and Crowley's faces are designed to give one impression when viewed small, and a slightly different one when viewed close up.

See bigger on flikr: https://flic.kr/p/2kquAkp

Description: Crowley is in snake form, and Aziraphale is lazing in his coils. They are in a room heated by a heat lamp, and filled with plants, and books. Outside it is snowing. Aziraphale is wearing an old-fashioned striped elbow-to-knee bathing suit, and has a plate of mince pies and a glass of wine. Aziraphale is attempting to hold Crowley away from his glass of wine with one leg. When the image is small, it looks a little like Aziraphale and Crowley are annoyed with each other, but when viewed in more detail, Aziraphale looks more fondly tetchy as in canon, and Crowley is smirking at him. The caption reads: A love-heat relationship.

Finally... I am not really an artist. I am a collagist. This was inspired by the wonderful Hilda cartoons, one of which I've transformed and put my own spin on here. I've also used many, many other images as tracing templates. Hopefully I've done this well enough to create a new thing in its own right, but I owe a debt to all of the pieces that helped me along the way.

Link on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28646571

[elsewhereuniversity]

News isn't something that pierces the realm of Elsewhere University very often, but when it does, it always seems to be bad. Lately it's been a never-ending barrage of anger-inducing events, and you're tired of it. So, so tired. One day you flop down on your bed and groan to your roommate 'ugh, wake me up when this is all over'. You don't notice that their teeth are sharper than usual. You don't notice that their eyes have changed colour. You don't realise what you've done until you wake up.

[marlynnofmany]

The First Time Traveler to Survive -- Chapter 2

I’m back with the second installment of the accidental space adventures, in which the Good Omens influences remain pretty obvious. 

We get to meet more of the crew!  The captain is my favorite.  And no, there is nothing else even vaguely resembling a human on the ship.  (*cough* Humans Are Weird *cough*)

Let me know if you want in on the tag list.  On with the show!

First chapter Next chapter More on Patreon!

~~~

Azalea didn’t know which question to ask first.  What other options were there, aside from human?  Did this “ship” sail oceans or solar waves?  Was the relatively normal-looking woman in front of her not also human?  Who and what was she waving at?  

All she managed were a few strangled syllables before figures appeared among the trees below, answering one question.  Or really, two.  

Spaceship it is, Azalea thought at the sight of the bizarre creatures.  None were remotely human.  

The one in front looked like a feathered pterodactyl, with most of its pink-and-gray feathers pruned down to nubs.  It walked on its wing-knuckles at a pace that left the other aliens jogging after. 

One was similar to the first, just smaller and colored like a sunset margarita.  One was large and built like a tank — or more accurately, like a photo of a rhino that had gotten caught walking in a panorama shot.  It had too many legs.  Some looked like arms.  And it either had green fur on its back, or it was wearing a fuzzy sweater over gray skin.  

The last two bringing up the rear were actually rolling along: tumbling balls of brownish something, which finally opened up into little scaly beasties with tentacle-trunk faces.  Those grasping apendages reminded Azalea of vending machine toys from her childhood: sticky hands made for flinging at windows and friends.  Azalea had never really liked those toys.  Nor did she appreciate the realization now that the color she was trying to match to these creatures’ scaly backs was that of an Australian Cockroach.  

Both of the creatures wore shoes.  Bright blue things that sparkled.  Azalea told herself not to hold any incidental creepiness against them.

“Up here!” repeated the woman next to her, waving again.  “I have no idea how she got in!”

Azalea murmured, “That makes two of us.”  

A voice of command called from below, deep and croaking.  “Get her down here.”  

Azalea watched the spearlike beak move.  That translation fruit was really something.  The noises sounded birdish, dinosaurian… but they were words that she understood.

The higher-pitched grunts from the little rolling fellows were likewise understandable, and highly irritated.  Apparently everyone wanted her down at ground level.  

Carmine was already perched on the railing.  “Coming down the quick way?”

“Um, no thank you,” Azalea said.  She gestured toward the large backpack.  “I’d better take the stairs.  I’ll, um, meet you down there.”

“Nonsense.”  Carmine hopped down in one fluid motion and led the way toward the staircase.  “Onward.”  

Azalea grabbed her backpack straps and hurried after, feeling vaguely self-conscious of the cloud of skirts and awkwardness that she must appear.  Especially on the heels of that sort of confident strut.  

Yes, of course, that’s the perfect thing to focus on, she thought in exasperation as she clattered down the stairs.  Worry that you’re not as cool as the dashing stranger, when you’re on a spaceship and everyone is aliens.  Nice priorities.  Well done.

Then she was at the bottom, and surrounded by those aliens, who were much taller up close.  The big pterodactyl in particular.  

“How did you get onboard?” the creature demanded, its voice vibrating through Azalea’s bones.  It fixed her with one piercing blue eye.  “Are there more of you?”

“I’m sorry,” Azalea said.  “I don’t know how I got here.”  She swallowed.  “I was supposed to appear on my planet, not your ship.”

The pterodactyl rotated its head to look at her with the other eye.  “Really,” it said.  “Are there more of you?”

“No, just me,” Azalea said.  “As far as I know.”  A fleeting thought about duplicate timelines didn’t bear dwelling on.  

The smaller creatures (crewmembers?) were chattering away with loud opinions.  Other voices chimed in, and Azalea couldn’t attempt to keep them straight.  But she could understand them.

“Risk!  Hazard!  Complication!”

“Will muck things up!  Get in the way!”

“Did you see it arrive?  Her, you said?”

“We’re wasting time.”

“Can’t be trusted.  Shouldn’t be trusted.”

“Carmine, you never told me your people could have fur that pale.  It’s lovely.”

A human voice joined the cacophany with an audible smile.  “It is, isn’t it?  And so curly!”

Azalea put a hand to the mess of blonde hair that surely needed a brushing already.  She wasn’t sure what to make of any of this.

The enormous beak again dominated her vision.  “Tell me how you physically got here.”

Azalea did her best to explain without pointing at the time machine in clear view.  The last thing she wanted was for it to be confiscated.  But, given the way she was easily surrounded, there wasn’t much she could do about that.  All she could do was say in vague terms that she’d been testing an invention that was supposed to put her somewhere on her own planet, not here.

“We’ll continue this later,” the pinkish dinosaur-bird said, closing its beak with a snap.  “For now, consider yourself in polite custody.  The degree of politeness depends on you.  Hand over the belongings and follow.”

Azalea tried not to panic, clutching her backpack straps.  

A hand on her shoulder made her jump.  “It’s just a safety measure,” Carmine assured her, eyebrows expressive above the goggles.  “Since you’re a dangerous unknown and all.”  She held out her hands, waiting.  

Azalea glanced at the far more intimidating sets of eyes currently staring her down, and shrugged out of the backpack.  She considered claiming the time machine was something cybernetic that she needed to live.  They could probably tell that was a lie, though.  She hadn’t seen any high-tech phaser/scanner doohickies, but they were probably around somewhere.  

At the urging of the smaller aliens, she removed the time machine too.  Carmine took both.  

Sure as hell not going to mention the pockets, she thought rebelliously.  No one asked.  

The pterodactyl ordered her forward, on the heels of the two rolling balls of impatience.  That put the giant spear-beak right behind her, which was mildly terrifying.  Carmine dropped back to walk with the rhino of many legs and the other birdosaur.  

“March.”  

Azalea marched.  She looked back over her shoulder as often as she dared, hoping the probably-human was being careful with her things.  As far as she could tell, Carmine was just carrying them without opening anything.  Sauntering with a smug expression, but not opening a single pouch.

A new doorway loomed in front of Azalea when she turned back to face front, this one with a pale green color scheme.  Everything else about it looked the same.  It let into a complicated labyrinth of hallways and closed doors, everything built with an architectural eye that was just subtly wrong.  The walls were too far apart, the edges too rounded, and those odd shelves were everywhere with nothing on them.  

Then the group paused while the dino-bird unlocked a door via retina scanner, and Azalea was startled by a pair of legs appearing on the ledge beside her.  

It was Carmine, still carrying Azalea’s things.  Leaning against the wall like this was a perfectly normal place to stand.  She didn’t look down at Azalea’s stare, and it was impossible to say whether her eyes had moved or not.  

Azalea was really starting to wonder about the goggles.

Then the door opened, and she had other things to focus on.  Like the crates and tubs that the rhino-person was muscling out into the hallway, and the large flightless wing that was suddenly behind her, giving the gentlest of shoves.  

“Inside, if you please.”  

The room was empty, and not much bigger than a closet.  Azalea dragged her feet.  “Can I have my things?  I won’t make trouble.  Please, they’re all I have, and I need them.”

There was rampant grumbling from the usual suspects.  The pterodactyl, who was obviously a leader of some sort, made the executive decision to go through the pack for dangerous items before handing it over.  The little grumblers with the grabby hands volunteered, but to Azalea’s relief, Carmine claimed the honor.  

Then Azalea had to watch while the group of spacefaring strangers looked over every single thing she had packed, from tools to undergarments.  They were quick, obviously on a schedule of their own, but they were also thorough.  At least they packed things back in approximately the right pockets.  

And they let her keep the time machine.  Azalea took it with relief, not even taking offense at the rhino’s declaration that it was “non-threatening technology.”  His voice sounded like whale song, which would have been hilarious under other circumstances.  

Azalea found herself once more in possession of her belongings, and shut unceremoniously into a storage room.  There was a window, thankfully, paneled in something that wasn’t glass.  It let through too much air and sound.  

Maybe it’s a force field, Azalea thought as the aliens promised to get back to her eventually.  Or the toenail of some giant space beast.  I don’t know.  What is happening today?

“I didn’t get a chance to ask,” drawled a voice from the hallway.

Azalea’s attention snapped up to see Carmine still there, while the others had left.  

“What planet are you from?”

Azalea breathed out a long breath.  “Earth.”

Carmine made a lopsided shrug.  “Don’t know that one.  Is it far?”

“I really couldn’t say.”

“Hm.  Pity.  I guess we’ll find out.”

Azalea was about to ask what that meant when a tone sounded three times, like a calmer version of a school bell.  Before she could ask what that meant, the lights dimmed.  

“Finally,” Carmine said, taking off the goggles and spinning them casually.  “I thought today would never end.”  She fixed Azalea with a grin that was probably meant to be conspiratorial, but Azalea didn’t notice anything past those eyes.

They were a fiery gold, with slit pupils that were very, very inhuman.  

“Well, see you in the morning.”  Carmine didn’t react to Azalea’s own wide-eyed stare, instead turning with a wave to make her loose-jointed way down the hall.  She stepped easily up onto the secondary walkway and disappeared around the corner.

~~~

The next chapter is here, and there’s more on Patreon.

[perfectlyineffable]

I finally uploaded a header and avatar picture!

Image Description: An illustration of a tiny black snake, Crowley’s snake form, coiled around the end of a yellow-and-black striped pencil. Above his head is a small red heart. The image is square, and is now my avatar.

Image Description: An illustration of a small black snake with a red belly (Crowley’s snake form), slithering down a pile of books, including ‘The Complete Works of Oscar Wilde’, ‘The Complete Collection’ of Winnie-the-Pooh, ‘Illustrated Stories from Shakespeare’, and ‘The Ultimate Guide to Caring for Your Snake’. The image is rectangular (landscape) and is now my blog’s header image.

Really pleased with how my avatar came out in the end, might change the header at some point but I’m happy with it for now.

[aziraphales-library]

Any fic recs for aziraphale and crowley with the sharing a bed trope? 💕

Hello!

I used this tag to find Bed Sharing fics. There’s a lot of NSFW fics in that search, but here are some SFW fics that you might be interested in:

There Was More Than One Bed (but in the end there was only one) by EdnaV (T)

Sometimes Aziraphale and Crowley spend the night together. But it takes some time to share more than a bed.

the only one (is you) by freyjawriter24 (G)

Crowley and Aziraphale have to, for unclear reasons that could probably have been solved by a miracle, share a bed for the night.

as long as you’re mine by thealienmeme (G)

the night of the failed apocalypse, crowley and aziraphale confess their feelings to each other. so all should be well, right? wrong. the following week fills crowley with doubt, there's no way the angel could really love him, until a certain musical brings up memories of that night and a conversation has to be had.

~ Mod G

[aziraphales-library]

Hello! First of all, thank you so much for all of the wonderful work you and all the mods do on this blog! You are really doing God's (or Satan's, or Someone's..) work here! I was wondering if you lovely people could rec some fics where either Aziraphale or Crowley knits/crochets/etc? I read the deft, sweet gesture of your hand by deadgreeks which was absolutely amazing and inspired me to finally finish a crochet project of my own!

I’ve found a few!

The One Where Crowley Knits by abblepie

Crowley did not take up knitting simply because he was jealous of a gift somebody gave his angel. He certainly didn’t do it because he wanted to see that bright face of joy turned towards him, just about as often as he could. Nothing like that at all. No, it was purely selfish, which you could tell because… well, he’d think something up later.

----

South Downs fluff, come and get it. Focused on knitting, Crowley the Maker, and declarations of love. There's also possibly a witch.

Stick to One's Knitting by insertnerdyjokehere

Knitting seemed like soothing hobby. Aziraphale liked the idea of taking these raw materials and turning them into something that could be worn or given as a gift. It seemed like something that, as bookshop owner who drank too much cocoa and wore frumpy sweaters, he should do, he just never got around to it.

Something So Precious by freyjawriter24

Aziraphale and Crowley are both adopted by two different groups of little old ladies who bake and knit together. Eventually the groups come together and realise their 'lovely young men' know each other, so they conspire to get the two together.

Cute fluff based on a tumblr post by ethereal-menace and thegoodomensdumpster. Hope you enjoy!

~Mod P