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#azicrow fanfic
phoen1xr0se · 18 days
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Someone on a Facebook GO group made this meme and I kid you not, I howled with laughter 🤣
Not long to go now!
🖤🩶🤍🖤🩶🤍🖤🩶🤍🖤🩶🤍🖤🩶🤍🖤🩶🤍
[Please reblog for traffic 🥹🙏]
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darkfiguresstuff · 12 days
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This really suits my fanfiction 😁 art by: @mahafor
Good old fashioned lover boy, by Darkfigure.
Story about love, friendship and music.
Please tell me name of the artist ⬆️
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gleafer · 7 months
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UHOH! It’s spooky season and who doesn’t love a nice ROCKY HORROR PICTURE SHOW crossover??
Because I have Good Omens brain rot, I present you with this lovely abomination.
Enjoy!
(I really like how Hastur turned out!)
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I keep seeing GO fics in which they use miracles for sex, which is nice y'know, love the creativity, but like, Heaven and Hell can see what they use miracles for right? So I just keep picturing like Michael or someone getting a notification and it's just like:
[AZIRAPHALE] removed Crowley's clothes
[AZIRAPHALE] miracled (1) penis
I mean no wonder they wanted to break them up.
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saryasy · 9 months
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Aziraphale never corrects people who assume he and Crowley are together vs. Crowley who does.
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wishfulsketching · 8 months
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I won a battle against art and anatomy, so I decided to doodle something real quickly as a treat!
Show gives me props to use to make cute little moments? Yes please and thank you.
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sentientsky · 5 months
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“i could fix him”, “i could make him worse”. yeah, well, I could meet him at the genesis of the universe, where the spaces between matter first gain sentience, and spark and spit their way into being—where the cradle of stars first take on a definitive kind of gravity and heat. I could be the engineer of creation. I could ask a question. I could stand across from him on a battlefield, trembling and reeking of ichor. I could hit the ground retching, all the bones in my body turning brackish and oil-slicked. I could lurch my way into a new world, a recalibration of reality in which I only know kindness as a set of snapping jaws, as a thing to flinch away from. I could meet him in the garden, then, when the air's all hyacinth and dripping gold. And I could ache. Oh, how I could ache. I could follow him through every wretched moment of history. I could trail after him like a hollow-eyed dog. I could hide my irises, could hide the brutal bloodiness of an all-too-human heart. I could hold the gun as I pretend not to pray, as I taste bile and will my hands to steadiness. I could trust him. And I could ache. I could bite my tongue, cypher the words in my mouth, gnash them between jagged teeth. I could swallow my heart. I could go slower. I could meet him at the end of the world, when hope claws its way up my throat, hungry and keening like a treacherous thing.
I could kiss him with six thousand years of want lodged and breaking in the mausoleum of my chest. I could hand him the blade; I could let him twist the knife. I could be forgiven. And still I could ache.
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noxequusart · 1 month
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Illustration for "Mamihlapinatapai" by @ayescha
https://archiveofourown.org/works/53331910
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considerablecolors · 7 months
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Despite the explicit instruction not to, Orpheus looks back. He needs to know if Eurydice will follow him anywhere, and so, he turns- And he finds her standing in place, unmoving.
We, the audience, find this sad for a few reasons:
1. We know there was a time when Eurydice would have followed him to the ends of the earth and straight into hell- but now, she watches Orpheus ascend to heaven alone. We know there was a time when she would have followed. We know what has changed between the then and the now.
2. Orpheus does not know what has changed. Orpheus does not know Eurydice stays because of how badly she loves. Orpheus thinks Eurydice has stayed behind because she does not love him enough.
3. Eurydice thinks the same thing. We know this, but we cannot tell them. They have both gone to places we cannot go.
4. By looking back, Orpheus has doomed them both, thinking he was saving them. If given the chance, he would do it again.
5. At some point, Orpheus believed the world was good, and Eurydice believed the world was evil. At some point, their love was powerful enough to change each other's minds.
6. Now, both see what the world could be. Orpheus reveres it. Eurydice fears it. Both are wrong. We don't know if their love can become powerful enough to change their minds again.
7. Eurydice does not follow, but she waits to see if Orpheus will turn around again. She cannot resist one last look.
8. We, the audience, know what has happened, and we know why- Orpheus and Eurydice are not gods. Their mistakes are human. We watch the scene again and again, denying what has transpired, longing for a deeper reason- coffees, lies, a higher power- but the story of Orpheus and Eurydice plays out the way it always does, for the reason it always has- love.
9. These two know the story of Orpheus and Eurydice well. Perhaps they watched it play out. Perhaps they greeted Eurydice at death's door. Perhaps they sat in a tavern and heard Orpheus play. Aziraphale thinks the story is about the inevitably of fate, the inability to resist the higher-ups- a god's will is ineffable. Crowley thinks the story is about the inevitably of leaving, the inability to have a happy ending- a god is always cruel. Neither have gotten this story quite right.
10. Once again, Aziraphale and Crowley have forgotten to focus on the love.
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qe-podfic · 2 months
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Calling Good Omens Fan Artists
Our silly little (I say "little" but we have 11 voice actors already and 30+ people in the discord) podfic needs YOU. We would like art to go in the background of the podfic on youtube as well as to look pretty on the AO3 post. Ideally, we'd have one illustration per scene, but one per chapter is what we're aiming for (in the interest of realistic expectations). There will be one "main" illustration per chapter. Read through whichever chapter you want to illustrate and pick a scene to draw. We want you to have full artistic control. So long as it's relevant to the fic, go ahead! Here are some stand out visuals from the fic to entice you:
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(Aziraphale in one of Crowley's band T-Shirts | from Chapter 2)
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(Crowley gets to have a total conniption as Aziraphale is casually affectionate in the Bentley | from Chapter 5)
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(The boys dancing IN BALLGOWNS | from chapter 6)
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(Crowley getting caught lathering himself in baby oil | from chapter 8) He's trying to get into this costume:
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IF YOU WANT TO HELP OUT, THIS IS THE DISCORD:
And, because they gave me explicit permission:
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I AM INVOKING THE NAME @mrghostrat Come on!! There isn't a better stamp of approval in the GO fandom!
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Don’t leave me here alone.
For A Lighthouse (burning) by @books-and-omens
Art by @onlylurkingreadingstuff
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phoen1xr0se · 4 months
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Loving your new AU. Very well done...like a fine wine, hits all those high notes we love so much. Thank you.
Awww thank you so much! I've been surprised by the overwhelming response to it so far, but really glad lots of people are enjoying it.
For anyone not reading it yet, There Is A Light & It Never Goes Out is a Human AU featuring Crowley as a Lighthouse Keeper who has spent two decades putting a barrier up between himself and the outside world, and Aziraphale as a Professor who rocks up on his tiny Scottish island to escape from the life he hates.
Chapters being added weekly.
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darkfiguresstuff · 12 days
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Batter go to the bar and meet Freddie!!!
href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/55
Art by: @getwood-duck
Summary:
“It's no good drinking alone, where's the fun? Well, tell me why are you sad?” With these words, Freddie moved to the chair next to Crowley.
“I quarreled with an angel, now he won’t want to see me for the next hundred years.” the demon hummed, not even trying to hide the facts.
Mercury laughed, considering it a joke.
“I don't think you have that much time.”
“You can't even imagine.” Crowley said.
“So what happened, darling?”
“Do you call everyone that?”…
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mothdogsart · 4 days
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So excited to share my latest bind! This is a Good Omens fic called Pray for Us, Icarus by Atalan/@brightwanderer 💐
I went a little nuts with the floral designs in this one. The cover was so much fun to put together, and I somehow managed to match the bookcloth color to the headband color perfectly. I also made the chapter headers look like Aziraphale was gathering his bouquet from Crowley throughout the years:
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I can’t add another photo on mobile, but Part 7 has two wine glasses with apple slices 🥰
Technical details follow ➡️
Fonts: Glamore (title) and Sabon (body)
Cover material: Allure bookcloth in Mudpie
Dust jacket image: Abraham van Beijeren, Creative Commons usage
Endpapers: Renato Crepaldi
Text block: Hammermill 70lb Ivory
Designed in Canva and Procreate
The fic can be read at http://archiveofourown.org/series/1448647
❗️My binds are not for sale. Authors can request gift copies.❗️
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feralbutfluffy · 7 months
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Interstitial: The Library of Alexandria
Instead of a chapter, today there's a one-shot inspired by chapter 59.
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Crowley watched Aziraphale as he ran his finger lightly over the scrolls, looking for something in particular. He didn’t ask what it was he was searching for. 
He didn’t really care. 
He sat on the floor, ignoring whatever was digging into his shoulder. Something old and terrifyingly valuable, no doubt. 
He sighed and took a swig from the jar of wine in his hand. “You going to be much longer?”
Aziraphale frowned at him. “You don’t have to be here, you know.”
Crowley grumbled something indecipherable and took another swig.
“It wouldn’t kill you to help, you know,” Aziraphale said, irritation clipping his words. “We’d be finished quicker if you would just-”
“You’d be finished quicker,” said Crowley.
Aziraphale glared at him from underneath his eyelashes. “Well, yes, but it hardly signifies. It comes down to the same thing, surely? The sooner I find the scroll the sooner we can break for lunch.”
“I fail to see the incentive. I’ll remind you that you’re the one who’s been banging on about that fish thing since we ran into each other this morning.”
“Be that as it may-”
“Anyway, helping you would be against my job description, wouldn’t you say?” Crowley crinkled his nose. “Bit unprincipled from a demonic perspective, to be helping your lot with… whatever it is you’re doing.”
“I assure you this is entirely personal,” sniffed Aziraphale.
“Be that as it may…” imitated Crowley, his tone entirely mocking.
Aziraphale shot him an annoyed look and crouched to examine the shelves at Crowley’s feet. 
Crowley took another swig and let out a deeply contented sigh. There was nothing like needling the angel to brighten his day. He let his shoulders fall back against the scrolls, enjoying the satisfyingly soft crunch of crumpling papyrus and the equally satisfying look of horror on the angel’s face at the sound.
“Crawley!” He hissed, sounding appalled. If they hadn’t been in a library Crowley imagined it would probably have been an indignant shout.
“It’s Crowley now,” he reminded him blandly.
Aziraphale hurried to his side, placing a hand against the dip at the base of his spine and sliding it up to his shoulders, neatly pulling him forward and away from the damaged scrolls behind him.
“You can’t do that! These scrolls are invaluable!”
Crowley ignored the strange prickling heat he felt at the angel’s touch.
“How do you know? You haven’t even looked at them yet, they could be…” he scrambled, “... a painstaking account of someone’s dreams! Or the ramblings of a madman! Honestly, look at this place, it’s packed to the gills with scrolls. They can’t all be important.”
“This is the finest collection of written material in the world, Craw- Crowley. Of course they’re all important!” Aziraphale was still supporting Crowley’s back with one arm as the fingers of the other smoothed out the creases in the scrolls behind him. 
Crowley gave no sign of intending to support his own body weight.
“Move,” Aziraphale said commandingly, shoving him upright. Crowley bounced forward, head falling against his chest, looking like a puppet with cut strings. He sat like that for a moment, listing forward, as he listened to the soothing sound of the angel putting everything to right. He wondered if Aziraphale might touch him again if he lay back and crumpled more scrolls.
He might.
Or he might discorporate him for crimes against papyrus.
He put the jar to his lips and drank deeply. Wine. What a marvellous discovery. It was the only good thing to come out of that whole mess with Noah. The rainbow- 
Well, the rainbow was fine, he supposed. But the wine …!
Truthfully, he’d needed it to get over that atrocity. He couldn’t understand how Aziraphale had managed to take it so in stride. The cries, the bloated bodies, the smell… He shuddered and swallowed down a large gulp of wine.
“I know I’ve already told you-” started Aziraphale at the sound of the wine sloshing against the side of the jar. 
“Yes, yes, shouldn’t drink in the library-” mumbled Crowley, waving the jug in front of him at the same time as Aziraphale continued, “You really shouldn’t drink in the library. What if you spill it?”
Crowley tried to look offended. “As if I would! Nectar of the Gods, lest you forget,” he said pointing at the jar.
“There is only one God as you very well know,” said Aziraphale primly, kneeling to face Crowley. “I’d thank you to refrain from such blasphemy when you find yourself in my company.” He looked extremely disapproving, hands folded in his lap, a frown etched on his face as he eyed the jar in Crowley’s hand.
He could be so sanctimonious sometimes. It really was unbearable.
Continue reading....
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Father Fell x Crowley in WW2
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With SPECTACULAR new cover art by @quona!! (everyone go follow them!)
Father Fell has been living a quiet life in a small parish. Despite the looming fear of war, he thought he was content with his small pleasures. Until a mysterious stranger comes to town, turning that life on its head and awakening desires the Father thought he buried long, long ago...
READ ON AO3:
Chapter ten in which a gift is given and then another is shared—if only for the barest sliver of a moment.
Or read from the beginning!
tagging @goodomensafterdark as promised ;)
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