#this is uz

[the-oxrib-and-oyster]

Happy Shuhite Sunday Summer Solstice!

To celebrate, I made you 45,000 words of Bildad smut.

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

[the-oxrib-and-oyster]

By The Rivers Dark

Rated E for smut. (14,917 words)

The first sequel to Where The Crawdad Sings is now complete (2/2).

Summary:

Crawley and Aziraphale travel to the hot springs east of Uz in the early morning after passing a seven-nights-long storm of passionate connection in Job's cellar. They have important plans to make, a Bet to rig, and three children to save— they really need to talk. But on their way across the pre-dawn desert, the two new lovers stumble upon a surprising spectacle that changes everything.

Read it here on AO3.

Tracklist is here; listen to the playlist on spotify here.

[the-oxrib-and-oyster]

Where The Crawdad Sings (Chapter 1)

Rated E for loads of smut, and CW for undernegotiated consent.

It is a dark and stormy night in the Land of Uz. Rain and wind-whipped sand pound into the smouldering, ruined cavity of Job's once luxe estate. 

In the cellar below, Principality Aziraphale, on Heavenly assignment; and Crawley, demon and diabolical minister of Satan, are chatting amicably. Catching up on gossip and water cooler talk, they banter against the backdrop of howling wind and sand ringing eerily against the windows. 

Each of them is utterly delighted to be posted alongside the other again at last, and both are working quite hard indeed to seem indifferent about their good fortune. As usual, Crawley is warming up faster. (The wine helps.) In particular, he is enjoying regaling the little angel with some of the more scandalous feats and temptations he has accomplished—or cleverly avoided—in the last few centuries. 

Aziraphale, just the way Crawley remembered him, is making all the right noises in all the right places in his exuberant tales; a haughty sniff of disagreement, a shocked little gasp, a scandalized laugh in spite of himself. 

Cripes, but Crawley has missed him.

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

A birthday gift for the superb @depraveddame that's been in the works for so long that it is now, ineffably, both late AND early. This fic started as an attempt to get our Uz era ineffables into as much raunchy trouble as possible, and has expanded, as most of my smuttiest intentions do, with a fair bit of plot, world building, angst, and fluff. Hoping to update weekly, on Shuhite Sundays. So much gratitude to my stalwart, enthusiastic, wonderful betas @noondarkduke and @yourbestieluke for helping me see it for the trees.

Please read the tags and warnings, it won't be for everyone!

[the-oxrib-and-oyster]

Where The Crawdad Sings (Chapter 2)

Chapter 2 of my Uz era smutfest is up today for Shuhite Sunday, and we start to get into some of the good stuff. CW for disorientation, a sad anxious Crawley with trauma, and some light somno adjacent dubbish con. God, I love these boys so much, I'm so happy to be sharing them with you all at last.

Excerpt:

"... Crawley?"

It's just the faintest whisper. Aziraphale's hot breath is on Crawley's neck, and those big hands on him are hesitating now, fluttering anxiously.

Crawley doesn't make a sound. He doesn't—doesn't know what to do.

"Oh... oh, no."

Crawley hears him, so soft as to be nearly inaudible. The angel sounds stricken. Crawley feels Aziraphale's anxious shivering tip over into shaking, teeth chattering shock.

Behind him, then, there comes a tearful whisper.

"Oh, please—"

Crawley can't bear it.

He stretches, rolling his spine sinuously with a deep sigh, as though he is just, in that moment, waking. Aziraphale gasps, high and panicked, shaking against him like a leaf.

Outside, there is a violent crash of thunder and the cellar is illuminated in a series of bright blue-white flashes of lightning.

There is a moment then, a long wondering moment that dangles in the charged air, full of promise and terror and the smell of rain, casting infinite possibilities along infinite timelines into infinite futures. And Crawley wonders—in this world, in this cellar, in this angel's arms, in this storm of Satan's making—what is going to happen?

He doesn't have to wait long to find out. 

Rated E. Follow along on AO3. Updating Sundays.

[the-oxrib-and-oyster]

Where the Crawdad Sings, Chapter 5

Thank you for your patience! Happy Shuhite Sunday! We are resuming a Sunday schedule with this chapter, and this week we have nearly unadulterated smut. A definite E rater.

Aziraphale indulges his newly discovered oral fixation and does some reverential exploring. Crawley gets ravished—and surprised—and then ravished some more. As he so richly deserves. Hope you enjoy!

The link to the official Playlist is in the end notes. This week's chapter's tracks aren't up yet, but let me give you a little sneak preview. 😌💋