Greetings! I'd like to rec literally every Good Omens work by riwriting. Their writing is thoughtful, incredibly well-characterized, and packed full of wonderful feels and details. For the book!omens fans out there, riwriting's are some of the best book-specific fics I've encountered; they also have excellent show!omens stories. I especially recommend "Here At The End Of All Things" and "The Lines Drawn Between Us" (both book!omens) — or, for something lighter, "Meant to be Pushed and Pulled".
Thank you anon!
Meant to be Pushed and Pulled (G) by riwriting
A customer tries to purchase a romance novel Aziraphale knows he did not stock and confronts the source of the new merchandise. Crowley doesn't see why all of this is such a big deal as Aziraphale already sells other books with similar themes.
The Lines Drawn Between Us (T) by riwriting
Crowley has always acted as if demonic summonings are not a big deal. Aziraphale discovers the truth......A trio of humans stood in front of a Circle, brightly lit. Inside the Circle, hanging suspended in the air, was a human form. The figure appeared to be a thin male. His long limbs twitched as if he could not control them, and he made a soft, choking noise. Not a human, Aziraphale determined. A human would be dead the moment they stepped into the Circle. And not an angel. An angel would be on his way to Heaven. Which left...demon. Aziraphale studied the wretched creature as his body spasmed again. The movement caused his dark, chin length hair to further cloak his face. It was clear from the noises that came from the demon that he was in pain. With what looked to be considerable effort, the demon took a shuddering breath and pulled his head upright.It was Crowley.
Here At The End Of All Things (T) by riweiting
“What if,” Aziraphale said, “We were always meant to have choices? We just...didn't imagine we could. What if Heaven and Hell are just, are just choices? You're the one who's always saying that it's just names for sides. What are the sides even about anyway?” Crowley's muffled voice came from the pillow. “I feel like I'm the one who's supposed to ask that stuff.”
-------
Aziraphale and Crowley, after leaving Tadfield and before meeting at St. James Park at 11:30 on Sunday, work through what it means for the world not to have ended and what might come next.
~Mod K
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 6/6
Fandom: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Cassian Andor/Jyn Erso
Characters: Jyn Erso, Bodhi Rook, Mon Mothma, Davits Draven, Cassian Andor, Original Characters
Additional Tags: Jyn Erso-centric, Jyn Week 2017, Mission Fic, Fight Scenes, Flawed characters, Learning to Person, Jyn has abandonment and trust issues, recruiting allies, POV Jyn Erso, Jyn does crime, one explosion, the romance is not the main part of this fic, it doesn't show up until the end, Jyn Bodhi and Mon have an adventure, many things go wrong
Summary:
After Scarif, Jyn tries to help Mon Mothma recruit a rebel cell to the Alliance's cause. Things do not go as planned.
For the prompt I almost gave someone else but then couldn’t stop thinking about today: Erik has a violent past. He never imagined he’d fall for Charles and leave his revenge quest on the back burner. Charles never dreamed his fiance was capable of hiding so many dark secrets from him. It’s funny how things work out in life. Modern unpowered au. (part 1/??)
***
Charles couldn’t breathe.
He sat frozen at his desk, old newspaper clippings pulled up on his laptop screen. His fiance’s face was looking back at him from an old photo. It was a mugshot, but it wasn’t Erik’s name on the caption.
Charles chewed at his nails as he scrolled. He could barely read the German paper, but he could see the photos. He only needed some crime scene photos and context clues to know that Erik was responsible.
No. Max. Eisenhardt.
His whole relationship was a lie. His world had dropped out from under him. He sat, staring at the screen, unable to move or think or function. He didn’t know what to do, barely believed his own eyes. How could Erik, his Erik, have done this?
The front door slammed in the living room. Charles startled, drawing in a sharp breath of air. Oh, god. Erik was home. He didn’t even know what to do. He pushed the lid down on his laptop and stood as Erik entered the room.
“Hey,” Erik said from the doorway. His eyes were half-lidded and tired and his mouth rested in an easy smile.
“Hey,” Charles said. He willed himself to breath normally, for his heart to stop pounding like it was going to fly out of his chest. He kept his hands at his sides and tried keep himself from clenching them into fists. It was a lie. It had all been a lie, “How was your day?” Charles didn’t know if he could move without breaking into pieces. He bit the inside of his lip as he felt his face grow hot.
Charles was angry, so angry. But he could also feel his heart breaking.
“Long,” Erik said softly. “Are you alright?”
“Yes,” No. How could he be? Friends had always told him how wrong Erik was for him. How cold and distant the man was. How Charles deserved better, “It’s just been a long day”
How stupid had he been? How stupid did Erik think he was?
“Well, I’ll make dinner and then we can relax. How does that sound?”
“Perfect,” Charles lied. The last thing he wanted was to be in this home with Erik. He could barely look at him. He couldn’t make himself smile even to keep up appearances.
Charles collapsed in his chair as Erik left the doorway. He could hear him walking through the kitchen, setting pans on the counter and pulling food out of the fridge. How lucky he’d thought he was to have a partner like Erik.
How was he supposed to confront his lover about a secret violent past? The whole concept seemed ridiculous and he’d be laughing if this wasn’t happening to him. This was far from some miscommunication between the couple. This was a disaster. He ran his fingers through his hair and drew in a long breath. What the fuck?
***
They ate dinner in relative silence. Erik was too tired to talk much and Charles-well. Charles didn’t know what he was. He stared at the table as he chewed his food, unwilling to look Erik in the face. His stomach churned. He hoped he wouldn’t throw up right here at the table. He didn’t know Erik anymore. Erik’s gentle smiles and long searching looks were now something foreign and corrupt.
“Are you sure you’re alright?”
“I’m fine.” Charles stood with his plate, food barely touched, and took it into the kitchen without another word. He set it on the counter and sighed, too distracted with his thoughts to hear Erik push his chair back and follow him into the kitchen. Suddenly Erik’s arms were around him. Charles stiffened and fought back the impulse to push him away.
“Tell me what’s wrong.” Erik kissed at Charles neck and shoulder as Charles gripped the counter, nails digging into the wood. He closed his eyes, his breath trembling, “Let me help.”
“You can’t.” Charles said, leaning away from his touch. He was trapped between Erik and the counter, but he couldn’t stand to let Erik touch him anymore. “Did you really think I wouldn’t find out?”
Erik pulled back then, the press of his mouth gone but his hands still loosely around Charles’ waist. Charles could feel Erik staring at him, but he still wouldn’t look him in the face, “What?” Erik said.
“You’ve been lying to me.” He could feel his eyes stinging, his cheeks warm. “I don’t even know who you are.” He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes. He didn’t want to cry in front of Erik. He felt pathetic. But he was so, so angry and so hurt.
Erik was quiet. Charles pried Erik’s hands off of his waist and turned toward him, eyes red and brows drawn together. He leaned back against the counter, arms crossed. “Do you have nothing to say?”
Erik mirrored Charles, wrapping his arms around himself defensively. They stood close enough together that their thighs were touching. “What do you know?”
“That you’ve hurt people, Erik. That everything I know about you is a lie. I don’t even know your name.”
“I changed my name when I left home,” he said, “That doesn’t make it fake.”
Charles let a strangled noise escape his throat, “I have no idea who you are.” He pushed at Erik’s chest, open palmed, with no intention of actually hurting him. He’d never in his life been so frustrated and angry. “We’re about to marry and you’re hiding something like this from me?”
“You do know me.” Erik grabbed Charles’ hand and squeezed it. “I’ve changed since I did those things.”
Charles jerked his hand away. “How do you expect me to believe you?”
“You can’t possibly think I’m that person after all of these years we’ve been together.”
“No! Because you lied about everything!” Charles threw his hand out, gesturing at the space around them that they had worked so hard to afford and make into their home. Charles’ hand dropped suddenly, energy drained. “I can’t do this right now.”
“Give me a chance.” Erik reached out one last time and brushed a hand over Charles’ shoulder, “Please.”
Charles gently pushed Erik’s hand away, his breath trembling. “I need some time.”
Erik stepped backwards, face falling as Charles slipped past him. He watched as Charles rushed up the stairs to the bedroom and didn’t even look back. The door slammed behind him.
Erik didn’t follow. He slept on the couch that night, unsure of what the morning would bring.
Going to post this now that some of my stuff is making the rounds. All my old Cherik fic, now that I’m writing again.
Full AO3 Fic
The Warrior and the Traveler (or, a sword and sorcery au that I really want to continue)
Charles ignores the whispers in the air and the weight of shadow upon his shoulders and presses on. He does not take his eyes off of Erik in front of him, nor does he fail to notice the way Erik's hands are tensed over the hilt of the broadsword at his hip, ready to fight should the curses of the mountain descend upon them.
The Little Things
Charles buys Raven a Christmas gift every year, on instinct, but he never knows where to send it to.
Shatter, Burn (or, Charles takes on The Phoenix's powers )
There is a pulsing, burning force in his head, held back by years of repression and denial, of constructed barriers and walls that push back a power that isn't quite his. Heat batters his skin and the taste of ashes in his mouth lays heavy on his tongue, but it's all just as distant to him as the bird rising high in the air, its body made of fire and smoke.
You can do anything, the fire says, sharp in his mind. You could be a god.
Ficlets on Tumblr
a vampire au (Currently working on more!)
a The Fall au
a post apocalypse au
a motorcycle gang au!!!!! (Currently working on more!)
Demon hunter husbands
Death personified (is my favorite trope)
Erik brings Charles to meet his coworkers
One where Erik has cancer and Charles is his doctor
Babysitting au
a The Fountain au (or, another one where Erik has cancer)
prompt: either Charles or Erik trying to figure out how to ask the other to move in.
Thanks Ike <33
**
Charles always thought he would be the one to ask the important questions. He was the first to ask Erik out, even going as far as being the first to update their status on social media when they started dating officially. Charles was also the first to say “I love you.”
Of course, there’s a big jump between “I love you” and “Move in with me” and this is probably why it took months for Charles to decide he was finally ready to say something. It was routine by now that Erik stayed over every night. Charles dedicated a space in his dresser for Erik even without asking, and eventually Erik’s clothes began to fill it one by one. His toothbrush held permanent seat next to Charles’ and they even had their morning routine down so perfectly that he felt off anytime Erik wasn’t there with him in the morning. Erik mentioned his lease was almost up the week prior, and even though they hadn’t actually talked about it, the timing would be a great excuse. They knew each other so well. So why couldn’t Charles just say it? No matter how long they were together or how much they had been through, there was always that small part of him that was terrified that he would scare Erik away.
It turns out, Charles wouldn’t get the chance to ask at all.
It happened on a perfectly ordinary Wednesday between getting dressed and making coffee. Erik’s tie hung loosely around his shoulders as he poured his coffee and Charles sat at the table, reading his paper. Erik offered Charles the coffee pot with a small smile. Charles took it without really looking, still not woken up enough to think about what he was doing. It slipped out of his hands. He watched it hit the floor and shatter, coffee spilling all over the floor.
“Oh,” Charles said. He sighed, because of course his morning would start out like this, and began to roll up his sleeves and stand, reaching for the roll of paper towels off of the counter. He would have to get a new coffee maker. He must have been projecting, his sleep addled brain not bothering to set his normal boundaries.
“We can use mine,” Erik said, his hand wrapping lightly around Charles’ wrist. His voice was soft, the night having eased away the tension that normally constricted him. “I don’t need it at my place anymore if I’m living here.”
Charles looked up at him, eyebrows raised and mouth hanging open just a little. “Living here?” he repeated.
“I said, didn’t I? My lease is ending. I thought the whole point of the dresser space was for me to start moving my stuff in. I’ve been thinking about it for the last month”
“Oh, Erik. Why do you always assume I know what you’re thinking?” He placed his hands on Erik’s face. “It’s not like you want me reading your thoughts on purpose. You didn’t even let me ask you to move in.”
“You didn’t have to. I knew.”
Charles bit his bottom lip, trying to hold back his sappy smile. Erik kissed him, laughing a little, before pulling away. “I’ll clean it up,” Erik said, “Have my coffee. I can get more before work.”
Charles would just have to make sure he did the proposal right. But, of course, that was a long ways away.
RiWriting: "Pusheen the Cat, Holiday Stress Relief, and Wish List Roundup Part I"
Wish list guide, shopping advice, holiday stress relief suggestion, and cute kitty comics!
[2:39:16 AM] Je riais: lol i wanna drunk and post
[2:39:23 AM] Je riais: what should i mini write
[2:40:39 AM] pirate ike: charles and erik buying a new car together
[2:41:02 AM] Je riais: okay
"I am not buying a van"
Charles shakes his head, looking over the vehicle, "You're so narrow minded. This is a great van and we can fit all the children in it."
"I reminds me of a pedo van. It's /white/. And how are we supposed to drive around in this thing with any kind of ego? Because I sure won't."
Charles laughs and slides his fingers along the hood "If you had your way it would be a sports car."
"It would"
"And we'd have no where to stick the kids."
Erik crosses his arms "put them in the trunk."
Charles resounding glare is enough to make Erik look away.
"Maybe a hatchback," Erik mutters at last, "But I am not going to be seen in that van"
"This is barbaric," Charles complained loudly over the sound of inhuman screeching, "You know how to use magic to incapacitate them. Why can’t you ever do it?”
"This is more fun. There’s also a challenge." Erik broke cover to quickly fire a few shots at a decidedly ugly looking demon that was currently breathing fire in the wrong direction. He ducked down again, kneeling beside his husband.
Charles scoffed and rolled his eyes, “There’s plenty of challenge in casting.”
"Really?" Erik’s eyebrow rose, "it doesn’t take seconds of your time to finish the fight easily?"
Charles huffed and said, “No,” defensively, “There’s work involved. I just happen to be very fast at it.”
Fire shot out overhead. The demon howled, confused at where its prey had gone. This one was not particularly bright.
"I’m just trying to make this last. They’re too afraid to come up to the surface anymore, like we’ve scared them all away."
"I think that’s the point, Dear."
"It’s getting boring with nothing to do"
It was Charles’ turn to raise his eyebrows, “Nothing to do? A shame, just rolling around in bed with me all day, isn’t it?”
"You know what I mean."
"Do I?" Charles asked sweetly.
There was a rumbling sound as the demon began to amble away in another direction.
"Oh goodness," Charles said, "I suppose we should kill it now."
Erik sighed, “If it’s going to head toward the city, might as well.”
"Shall I?"
Erik motioned him ahead, “All yours.” And before Erik could even finish his sentence, light flared up in a circle on the ground below Charles and shot off toward the demon. When the light from the magic blast faded from his vision, there was only a pile of smoldering ashes left.
