#gomens fic

[goodomensao3tagoftheday]

[rogue-bard]

And who forgot again that it's Thursday? 't's meeee. But I have a weird one for you today. I hope you'll like it; it's more a fic than it is a game. This was written before s3 was out, so it's not compliant with s3.

⛓️ Slay the Principality 🗡️

Interactive Fanfic/Game 🎮 Canon Divergent 🐦‍⬛ Angst & Happy Ending

“You’re on a path in the woods. And at the end of that path is a cabin. And in the basement of that cabin is a Principality. You’re here to slay him. If you don’t, it will be the end of the world.” ~ ~ ~ Crowley doesn't remember how he got here or who this Principality is, but he has a funny feeling that they've met before - 6000 years ago, again and again and again. The question is: Will he save the world or will he save the love of his life? Or will he find a way to save both? It's up to you. (An interactive fanfic.)

This is not a fanfic. This is not a videogame (yet). It's something in between. It's my first Choose Your Own Adventure fic, it has only one path and one ending - so it's more of a regular fanfic with gamified elements. (You CAN get lost and "lose", but I made it in a way that it doesn't give you an unhappy ending. Can't say more because spoilers!)

The premise is that you play Crowley and decide what he does when faced with the Almighty ordering him to slay a principality.

I made a flow-chart instead of an outline. It's mental. There's several paths and endings already outlined, and I will add them as soon as The Yelp Chronicles are finished.

My personal story behind this fic

One of all our favourite Good Omens fanartists, @sightkeeper, mentioned on bluesky that someone should write a Good Omens Slay the Princess AU. And... well, now that I think about it, this is not that lmao. Uuuh, it was supposed to be but I almost always fall back to canon-compliance when the opportunity arises. (Sorry!)

There's no need to know anything about Slay the Princess to read this. In fact, it won't help you at all in solving if you do.

Anyway, I was planning on playing Slay the Princess anyway, and after I did, I thought: Okay, yeah... I have ideas! Unfortunately, I was in between other writing duties. And that's why I only wrote one ending yet. But I have never forgotten, I promise! They're coming! Even though I don't think anybody still waits for them haha

I was afraid that a bad ending would depress someone, so while there is currently a way to... uh... well, fuck it up for Crowley, it's not permanent even in the context of fic. The problem is, that I may have hidden the clues to what you need to say or do a little too well, and a lot of people ran along the "bad" path at first before arriving at the happy end. Maybe I will also come back to that finished path and make it a little more obvious?

All that is to say: I am very much looking forward to writing the other paths and endings for this, to give you more choices. There are some that I'm looking forward to for *evil tehehe* reasons and others I'm looking forward to for *silly tehehe* reasons.

Each story-path is supposed to be a different genre. We'll see how well I'll manage!

The best part of it...

It's not a very popular fic. Maybe people don't like interactive fics? Maybe people are afraid they need to know Slay the Princess (it really wouldn't even help if you did know it)? Maybe I made a bad job of making people read that they need to click a choice and not "next chapter" for it to make any sense?

Or maybe it's just bad. I don't know. I hope not. I had a lot of fun writing it. And of all my fics, reading the comments to this one is by far the most entertaining.

My favourite one was one lovely person commenting on a choice early on something along the lines of: "Damn, I wish choice X wasn't blocked off..." (because I haven't written that ending yet and I don't want anyone to get stuck, so those choices are blocked off for now) "... not that I would ever done X, but it sounds fun." Then, later, you do get choice X again, and they, who would "not ever do X", wrote "Haha, I think I will do X now." One chapter later: "OH MY GOD, CROWLEY REALLY DID X! I DID NOT THINK YOU WOULD LET ME DO THAT". 😂 I think that was my favourite chain of comments I ever received.

Obligatory Link

You can read / play Slay the Principality here, on ao3! Please read the instructions first. They are very short but important.

[evilasiangenius]

“May I? Please? Would it be all right? If I tried, just this once.”

“Fine, angel.” Crowley turned on his side, propping himself up on his elbow to watch. “If that's what you want. Just think snakey thoughts and it'll happen. And when you've had enough, you think walking thoughts and everything changes back.”

“Snakey thoughts, snakey thoughts. All right.” Aziraphale pressed his finger to his lower lip – well, Crowley's lower lip, considering the problem. Though he loved all God's creatures and creations, Aziraphale had not thought to put much time into thinking about snakes. Mostly simple garden invertebrates, a few songbirds, ducks, and the occasional aadvark (because someone had put it into his head), and of course those seals that were so round as to be nearly spherical. “Okay. Wiggle wiggle snakey snake.”

“Wiggle wiggle snakey snake?” Crowley's head tilted.

The transformation was immediate, and before he could stop himself, Crowley reached out to touch the sleek, cool scales of his own head. It was a strange and pleasing moment; he had never had the hands to do it as a serpent.

“Well, that worked out nicely, didn't it?”

Yesssss.The tongue flickered out, tasting the air. It issss...pleaaaaassssing. Absolutely wiggly fun. The expression and the tone of voice didn't change at all, but it surely was Aziraphale.

“You know, I think you're the first person I've ever heard calling it 'wiggly fun'. Most people have rather much ruder things to say,” Crowley said dryly. “No wonder you're my b-...you're here.”

How do you blink? Nictating membrane? Like an aardvark?

Crowley scowled to himself, as much as was possible in Aziraphale's body. How did he know so much about aardvarks?

“No eyelids. Don't need blinking. Don't need blinking much in general.”

No wonder...you took...a human form.

“No wonder at all.” Crowley flopped back down on his back. “Come here, angel.” He patted the pleasingly soft belly, feeling it jiggle beneath his palms.

The snake coiled up, head aloft, looking as alarmed as a creature with no inherent facial expressions could look.

“Come on, it's night and it's not that warm in here.”

I don't...quite rightly...undersssshtand...feeling ssssluh. Ssssssluhghhh. Sssssluggish. The words were coming slower and slower.

“Ecto-something. The one that means that your body heat is not your own. Thermic, that's it. Ectothermic. Or would you rather I miracle you up a big heated rock?” Crowley thought about it and changed tactics, watching the snake slowly lose the ability to keep its own head up. “Think about it; no one could fault you for heating yourself up with your own body, you do that all the time anyway.”

I'm ssssure you're right...no one would fault me...after all it's my own body...and we've already taken all the blame anyway. Might as well be hanged for a sssssheep... The snake slithered over awkwardly as if it wasn't quite sure of all the muscles in its body. Oh no...wassss that. A temptation?

“We're way past that now, angel. It's just a practicality.” Crowley offered the heated length of his arm and when the snake's tongue brushed against his skin, it seemed that he could almost taste the molecules that made up the angel's skin and scent. Without meaning to, he felt his mouth move, though his tongue – Aziraphale's tongue – did not move in the same ways he was accustomed to.

The snake moved slowly, but faster once he felt the heat of Aziraphale's body. Once the entire heft and weight of the snake was upon him, Crowley put his arms around himself. Himself that was not him, his other self.

“I think I could stand to lose some weight,” Crowley groaned a bit but then the snake redistributed itself across his body, twining down around his legs and waist and it was much more bearable.

Oh don't ssssay that, Crowley, you're jusssst fine the way you are.

“Mgrph.” Crowley said.

You, that is, my body, feels so soft and warm. Perhaps you're right that having a bit of a tum is not a bad thing. It's ssstrange seeing my body from here. Everything looks different. Funny, never thought... But how did you manage being cold so long? If you had just asked I would have miracled you up a heated rock. Or...

“Or?”

“Taken you up myself,” Aziraphale said, coming to himself, finding himself gripping his own body around the waist. Surprised and embarrassed to be caught out, he quickly rolled off of Crowley, retreating to the other side of the bed. “Sorry. I must have thought too many walky thoughts.”

“Fine. It's fine. Easier to talk like this. Some of those vowels are hard to work; mouth's not the right shape for talking.”

“Oh, but it was ever so much fun,” Aziraphale said, running his hands through neatly coiffed dark hair and mussing it up before tucking his hands behind his head. “Someday we'll have to try it again in a sunny park somewhere. On the grass. I want to climb a tree!”

“And scare off the whole lot of mortals? They're not terribly fond of snakes you know. Especially big ones. Fine. Sounds lovely. Let's do it someday. If there is a someday.” Crowley stared thoughtfully at the ceiling, thinking of all those lost cloudy days when it would have been so lovely to have a warm angel to curl up with.

“There will always be a someday.” Aziraphale said with unforced optimism and heartened, Crowley settled back into his own thoughts as the angel chafed his cold hands, fondly remembering that time he was briefly a snake.

[shades-o-grey]

"My Funny Valentine"

By: Shades O Grey

Chapter 2:

♡♡♡"Rendezvous"♡♡♡

Rating [G] — 2.4k Words

Summary:

Aziraphale dithers over his plans, luckily Crowley arrives to distract him from is internal spiralling. Now if he can just keep the Demon distracted without stumbling into any verbal pot-holes his plans are surely guaranteed to succeed. But Crowley just might have some tricks of his own up his dark sleeve...

Excerpt:

“Well Angel, your chariot has arrived.” He said in a mocking chivalrous tone. Sweeping his hand out the window in a minuscule gesture. Aziraphale unclenched his grip and relaxed his shoulders. “Oh ha-hum— I’m lucky my ‘chariot’ didn’t flatten me to the pavement.” “How could I possibly flatten you with the car? You’re practically inside the bookshop!” “Exactly…” Aziraphale replied with an expertly raised (and manicured) brow.

♡♡♡~Chapter 2 On AO3~♡♡♡

♤♤♤~Link To First Chapter~♤♤♤

Thanks again to my friends- betas and cheer-readers <3 this wouldn't see the light of day without you.

[CHAPTER 3 OUT NOW]

[smolalienbee]

Mortals of the Multiverse

Aziraphale/Crowley // across the multiverse; technically post s3 but doesn't actually refer to it // multiple human AU meet cutes // rated T // 5.9k words written for the @gomens-timeaftertime event!

In a universe much like our own, a man not dissimilar from an angel we know has just moved into a new flat… And then the image in front of our eyes blurs. Lines branching. We follow another one like a spark of electricity passing through the power lines. We hear silence; we hear the echoes of infinity — so many of them they become white noise. Our next stop is just one hop over, down the street but a universe away. The next scenes come to us in flashes, images overlaying images overlaying images. Some things stay the same – some things change. The faces remain each other’s mirrors time after time. For a while, it’s impossible to make out the exact words of the many voices, similar and different, across the different planes of existence. Their lives, their experiences, clash into one another to create a cacophony of sound. Wait long enough, though, and eventually, you will hear them all find a common melody, the same refrain, no matter the world or the circumstances.

read full fic on AO3 here!

In a universe much like our own, a man not dissimilar from an angel we know has just moved into a new flat…

Ezra sets the rickety plastic chair down in front of a foldable table in what is supposed to be his living room. He sighs. There's hardly any furniture in the flat just yet, only a mattress, a mini fridge and this lovely little makeshift office set up. As uncomfortable as it is — and as much as he longs for a proper chair and a properly prepared cup of tea — he's got work to do and it wouldn't do well to dawdle.

He hums to himself as he sets his laptop on the table, as he turn it on, as he logs in, as he opens a browser — and that's when he realises his first mistake. No WiFi.

He lets out a frustrated little puff of air. Well, that simply won't do. Of course, he could pack up his things, head out and go to a cafe or some such like, but the weather is simply atrocious and he is in no mood to brave London's rains today.

He has an idea, though. He scrolls through the list of available networks, hoping to find just a single open one, but no such luck. Eventually, though, one draws his eye.

StayTheHellOff, the network name declares amusingly. Well, that’s a challenge if Ezra has ever seen one.

He wonders, what would this sort of person use as their password? Something vulgar, most likely.

He tries fuckyou. Incorrect.

Fuckoff. No, that’s not it either. 

He gets it on the third try. Gofuckyourself. Ah. That sounds about right.

Nevertheless, he now has unrestrained internet access and plenty of blog posts to write. He gets to work.

Fifteen minutes later, there’s a knock on his door. Then his doorbell rings. Then knocking, again, more insistent this time. RingringRINGRINGringriiiiiiiiingRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING.

Ezra rolls his eyes and goes to open the door.

"You!" Immediately, there's an accusatory finger being pointed at Ezra's chest. The man in front of him is thin, dressed in all black, with a curling wave of bright red hair sitting atop his head. "Get off my bloody network before I— I—" The threat dies off on the man's tongue as his gaze flickers up and down, taking Ezra in. "You hacked my WiFi?"

Ezra pouts. "Well, I'd hardly call it hacking…"

"So you did!" The man exclaims.

“Dear, your password was gofuckyourself. It’s not exactly craftsmanship, is it?”

Taken aback by Ezra's attitude, the man sputters. Ezra, unimpressed, reaches for the door.

"Now, if you don't mind, I really do have to get back to work—"

Before he can close it all the way, though, the man shoots out one of his long legs and shoves his foot in-between the door and its frame. "Hold on a minute, I didn't say anything about letting you use it!"

Ezra sighs. "It won't be for much longer," he explains. "It's just, I've only just moved in and I don't have anything of my own set up yet. Your WiFi was the only that seemed, well…"

The man narrows his eyes. "Seemed what?"

“It’s rather brusque, isn’t it? You can hardly blame me.”

It seems like he finds Ezra's words offensive, somehow. "You’re telling me you saw the words StayTheHellOff and really thought to yourself, oh, yeah, that's the person I want to mess with?"

Ezra has not actually been intending to mess with anyone, but the look on this man's face, well… He can't help but feel the need to rile him up, just a little bit. "It does sound rather like a challenge, does it not?"

The man gapes at him. "You— you have no idea what I could've done! Could've sent you malware! My whole network could've been riddled with malware and you wouldn't have known!"

"You know, I do have to ask, how did you know it was me?"

The man sniffs, shoves his hands into his pockets and shrugs, clearly trying — and failing — to appear casual about something he already considers to be impressive. "Measured the ping time to your device," he explains. "That narrowed it down to this floor and— from there it was simple. Mary from 307 has just given birth and she's still at the hospital; 308, that's Leslie and Maude, they're in Italy in their third honeymoon; and I'm pretty sure Shadwell from 309 only uses a landline."

Ezra gives him an indulgent smile. "I can't say that I quite got all that ping stuff, but that sounds quite impressive, dear." The man seems to preen a little at the praise. "You seem to know a lot about these things."

“I’m— I work in cybersecurity, actually. ‘S kinda my thing.”

Ezra raises his eyebrow. “...and yet your password was gofuckyourself? I shudder to think what sort of advice you give people.”

The man has the decency to laugh at that, a nasal-y sort of chuckle. "Sod off," he grumbles, but it's amused more so than anything else. "Buy me a drink and I'll consider benevolently letting you keep using my WiFi."

Ezra smirks. "Only if you tell me your name first, dear boy."

“Crowley. Tony Crowley.”

“It’s lovely to meet you, Tony." Ezra holds his hand out for a handshake. "I’m Ezra Fell.”

The moment their hands touch, Ezra suddenly realizes that he does, in fact, hope to see much more of Tony in the future. That he is not quite ready to let go of this man just — if at all.

The image in front of our eyes blurs. We know where those two will end up, later that same night.

Lines branching. We follow another one like a spark of electricity passing through the powerlines. An airport comes into our view. A red-haired man is pacing its floors, holding a phone up to his ear…

read full fic on AO3 here!

[shouldichooseto]

Aziraphale glances past her — at the glasses holder mounted by the door — then back to her face, and he softly asks, “May I?”

Crowley’s fingers make shallow dents in the cardboard.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN(17)!!!

(chap 1 is here)

[midnights-dragon]

I got a little too bummed out thinking about the lack of a 1941 Part 3 since we didn't get a full season, and decided to write a short piece on what I think could've happened that we didn't get to see. Feel free to check it out!

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Summary:

“We’re drunk, Crowley.” “Sober up, then.” “I —,” Aziraphale hesitated, catching himself; a hard thing to do, when his face was still hot with drunkenness, his tongue far too loose and uninhibited. “I don’t . . . want to.”

In 1941, an angel and a demon drink together after a harrowing night, and repressed feelings threaten their fragile coexistence.

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Spent and Sated (Good Omens Drabble)

Aziraphale x GN!Reader 18+ ONLY / requests are open

Summary: Aziraphale knows you can take one more load.

Fic type: smut

GOMENS: @coffee-and-red-lipstick @quickslvxrr @clarina04 @motionlessindoubt @stevekempscocktails @go-bonkers-go-foolish @peytonpenguin37 @florduarte @complimentary-breadbasket @thekirbishow (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

From an outsider’s perspective, Aziraphale could come across as a very… unsexual person. You, however, knew the truth of how deeply depraved the Angel could be when he wanted to. 

Right now was no exception. 

Right now Aziraphale had you bent in half underneath him as he ploughed his thick cock into your hole. You were whining and writhing under him, but he didn’t let up for even a moment. This was round two, you were pretty sure- or was it round three? 

Either way, you’d been fucked completely dumb and were loving it, too. 

“Look at you,” Aziraphale panted, sweat dripping down the side of his face. “Fucked to completion under me like this-” 

You groaned, spasming around his cock as his words shot heat down your spine. 

“How many times, hmm? How many times have you climaxed for me, my dear? Three? Four? Oh, my sweet thing. Do you have any more for me?” 

You nodded dumbly, tears welling up in your eyes as he fucked into your harshly. You were coming undone once again, that pressure building as the desperation grew. Was it desperation for him to stop or was it desperation for him to continue? At this point, you couldn’t tell. The only things you knew were the throb of his cock and the feeling of fullness in your hole. 

“Fuck, Zira–” You whimpered, clenching weakly around him as he brought one hand to that spot between your legs that had you seeing stars.

“Now, now,” Aziraphale tutted. “There’s no need for blasphemy. You know I’m going to breed you, my darling. Wouldn’t you like to finish for me one more time?” 

You decided to ignore the fact that Aziraphale had sworn only about two minutes ago, figuring that it wasn’t worth the effort to argue the point right now. 

The wet slap of the spent seed already inside you as Zira fucked into you only managed to make you feel all that much more full, and you weren't entirely sure you were going to be able to handle another load. 

“You know you can, my darling,” Aziraphale panted, fingers tightening on your hips. “You know you can take more.”

Your face screwed up with pleasure as he fucked harder now, nearing his climax. 

“You want to be full of my seed, don’t you, my dear? Oh, yes, bred full and willing- you’re so wonderful-” 

You feebly attempted to squeeze around him to encourage him to finish. It seemed to work as he finally jerked forward once, twice more and spent himself inside you. 

Aziraphale groaned, head dropping down to rest on your shoulder as the last ropes of his seed found their way into your hole. 

“That’s it, my dear,” he panted, “always so good for me, aren’t you?” 

You nodded, exhausted and so very sated. 

“Always, my Angel. Always.”