#sorryisuckbutatleastiknow
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For kiss roulette: 11, a kiss to the neck
(cw: drug use mention)
"Quite the bacchanalia, eh angel?"
Aziraphale practically jumps out of his skin at the whisper in his ear. He twists to look over his shoulder at Crowley, grinning ear to ear in a knowing way that brings a sheepish flush to Aziraphale's cheeks in record time.
"Crowley," he greets simply, ignoring the bait and looking forward again. "I shouldn't be surprised to see you here."
"But I very much should," Crowley says, slinking around to stand beside him and lean into his personal space, grin growing impossibly wider. "And am. What on Earth could bring such a pure, divine being as yourself to a Festival of Bacchus? There's nothing here but drunken revelry and a sexual free-for-all."
Aziraphale keeps his gaze steadfastly ahead, even as the blush on his face starts creeping down his neck, even though Crowley is leering so closely that his breath is warm and incredibly distracting against the shell of Aziraphale's ear.
"Precisely," Aziraphale says, proud of the way he keeps his tone level. "These sorts of events tend to get out of hand."
"Ah," Crowley says, quirking a brow and tilting his head. "Killjoy cover - pretty good."
In his peripheral, Aziraphale sees him lick his lips. He fights the urge to shiver. "I beg your pardon?"
"Oh, nothing," Crowley says, slithering behind Aziraphale to his other side in a way that shouldn't be possible for his human-shaped body. "It won't be as transparent to them as it is to me. They don't understand these things the way we do."
Aziraphale stands straighter, looking dead ahead. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean."
"I only mean," Crowley says, smirking, "that if anyone asked of your whereabouts tonight and you needed a cover story for indulging in a festival of intoxication and ecstasy, preventing humans from engaging in the more intense activities that can culminate of these events is... pretty good."
"But I'm not indulging, am I?" Aziraphale says, daring a glance at Crowley just to raise an imprudent brow at him.
A mistake, of course; the fire illuminating the grounds bathes Crowley in soft light, cheeks and nose rosy from the wine and warm weather. He's wearing his hair in plaits wrapped around his head like a crown, a fashion popular with the young women of Rome for now. Aziraphale admires the way Crowley attempts to keep up with their trends, taking bits and pieces of them that suit him and hoarding them like treasure; like the jewellery the Romans find so fetching this century, the same rich yellow as Crowley's eyes.
The Romans do so covet amber, he would say, if he were braver. Do they admire your eyes that way, the same way I do?
He swallows hard and looks away again with an odd, tight feeling in his chest. "I imagine you are? Indulging, I mean to say."
"In the drink, certainly," Crowley says. "The rich cult that throws the sex festivals makes the best vino in the country."
"But not...?"
Aziraphale's gaze falls on a couple getting amorous beneath a tree, hands roaming over each others' bodies and open mouths clashing together, and looks up and away with his face burning as if his interest is suddenly taken by the stars. He's not easily embarrassed, and certainly not by sex in general; it's trivial, it's human, until it's being discussed with the one being in all of creation who knows exactly how to get under Aziraphale's skin, who introduced him to the pleasures of a different kind of flesh, and who seems, for some reason, to have a vested interested in Aziraphale indulging.
"Nah," Crowley says, looking out at the scattered sea of writhing bodies partaking in the evening's festivities. "Demon, humans... just doesn't feel right. Tempter of the original sin, and all. Gets weird when I think about it too much."
"I suppose that makes sense," Aziraphale says, returning his gaze to the Earth and wishing for some kind of breeze to cool himself down; he ought to have brought a handfan, but he always forgets how balmy Roman summers are. "So you're just here drinking and..."
"Soaking up the debauchery," Crowley says, his grin renewed. He leans back and takes a deep breath in, finally giving Aziraphale more than an inch of space to himself again, and lets it out with a sigh of satisfaction; if it sounds a bit more like a moan than a sigh for a moment, it's really none of Aziraphale's business. He was probably imagining it in the first place. "Oh, it's like nothing else. You ever try opium?"
"Just the once. I wasn't a fan of the come-down."
"Remember those wavessss of euphoria," Crowley says, hissing as he tends to do when he's intoxicated and tipping his head back like he's basking in the indecency of it all, "that hit you at random? No rhyme or reason, just ecstasy - that's what it feels like here, if I let all wash over me properly. All of them, lost to pleasure, getting off on the idea of seeing each other get off."
Heat curls in the pit of Aziraphale's stomach and he swallows, mouth suddenly dry.
As if he can tell - good Lord, can he? - Crowley brings his head back down and smiles at Aziraphale, teeth showing in a way that ought to be threatening but only stokes the coals of Aziraphale's interest.
"But there can only be one weirdo lurking in the corner and watching at these things, you know," he says, stalking around Aziraphale and leaning over his shoulder to speak again, voice lowering. "Now there's two of us just standing about, sticking out like sore thumbs. Being the clothed ones at the orgy can draw unwanted attention."
Crowley's lips brush his ear with the final word and Aziraphale's heart thuds against his chest loud enough he's certain Crowley must be able to hear it. If he can, he doesn't comment on it.
"Over by that frisky trio in the bushes, see him?" he says instead, nodding toward the stranger in question, who's giving Aziraphale a suggestive look. "He's been eyeing you this whole time. If he thinks you're available, instead of just watching, he might come seeking your attention."
His hand comes up to skim a touch across Aziraphale's shoulderblades, a ghost of a caress where his wings would be, and Aziraphale realises he lost control of this interaction quite awhile ago and has no desire to get it back.
"How would you suggest I make myself appear... less available?" Aziraphale murmurs, tilting his head in the slightest, an offering he hopes doesn't go overlooked.
Crowley's hand drifts back from his shoulder to his neck and a pair of slender fingers curl around the collar of his tunic, gingerly pulling the fabric aside so Crowley can dip his head and press his lips to the base of Aziraphale's neck, hot like a brand against his skin. Aziraphale's eyes fall half-shut and he bites back a groan, head tipping further to the side as Crowley kisses his jaw, nosing at the tender spot beneath his ear.
"Something like this might help," Crowley murmurs against his skin. "Is he still looking?"
Aziraphale glances back to the stranger, who has decidedly lost interest and is now pleasuring himself to the sight of the frisky trio in the bushes.
"Yes," he lies, shutting his eyes.
"Good," Crowley says, lips grazing his jaw again. "I've got a few other ideas."
#sorryisuckbutatleastiknow#philintropy#good omens#THIS GOT OUT OF HAND-#and also takes place in about like 189 BC or so idk
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👻 it’s me again I’m always here cracking the whip lol
(and it's because of you that this fic might actually get fully written LMAO)
"Really, Crowley," Aziraphale tuts, even as he retrieves the book for him, "don't you think refusing to touch it even while wearing gloves is a bit dramatic?"
"Nope," Crowley says, popping the 'p' in a way that has Aziraphale's eyes rolling almost involuntarily. "Dramatic is buying a burner mobile to take pictures with, which I also did, because my phone is very nice and expensive and I won't have your demon book ruining it."
"You're right, that is dramatic," Aziraphale huffs.
send me a 👻 and i'll add 5 sentences to my wip (and share a snippet!)
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I’m so excited for and in love with your paranormal au already I love them so much ❤️ what are your plans for describing the curse on aziraphale? Like, can we have a little taste?
[cracks knuckles] ive been saving this one and now i have ~ a little taste ~ to share
Aziraphale sets his clean dishes on the drying rack with a satisfied smile and moves to turn on his heel and return to the living room when he backs directly into someone, letting out a startled gasp. He spins around, hand flying to his throat in shock, only to find... no one.
But he felt...
It felt exactly like he'd bumped into a person. Is there someone in his flat? Some kind of intruder? He didn't hear anything, and he'd been absorbed in his thoughts and the music, but surely he'd have heard or seen someone running away from right behind him.
He lowers his hand and inches to the side, reaching for a knife from the knife block on his countertop, quite uncertain of what exactly he would do with it if he needed to defend himself. Regardless, he wields it ahead of himself as he edges around the kitchen island to peer behind it, heart pounding in his ears.
Nobody.
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Tell me more about the paranormal au!!! What makes it paranormal? What are my gay angelic dads up to?
in this human au the bois accidentally become the world's most successful paranormal investigators by tracking down the origins of a book written in an unrecognizable language that mysteriously comes into Aziraphale's possession (and eventually pulls an uno reverse card on the possession aspect) through the university he works for (where Muriel is his research assistant and former student!)
he tries figuring it out on his own at first, but his niche is victorian spiritualism, not demonology, and this book is clearly dark. when studying it starts to affect him, his uni students take notice and suggest an unconventional research collaborator - podcast host and self-taught occult expert, ~Crowley~
they're gonna do an overnight demon-observation with The Them!
they're gonna network with prophetic book specialist Anathema Device!
they're gonna consult with master spiritualist Madame Tracy!
they're gonna meet up with Beez the sigil expert!
they go on a potentially international demon-origin-hunting journey to solve the mystery and save aziraphale from demon possession and break the curse !!
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10
Crowley pouts, a brief purse of his lips before he sighs heavily, finally walking up to Aziraphale's desk and slumping into a chair.
"Whatever," he mutters, arms crossed, "lucky guess. Again. And I don't give a shit either, by the way. About not having a uni education. Doesn't matter to me, never needed one – s'other people, judgy old pompous pricks. Thought maybe you were one, too. Sorry."
"I understand," Aziraphale says, smiling.
"Good," Crowley says, sneering halfheartedly. "Now help me understand – why are you so bloody insistent on denying that you're cursed? You know you can't 'ignorance is bliss' your way out of a possession, right?"
send a number from 1-15 to get a sneak peek of that page of paranormal au ch 3
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Tell me a bit about your Break The Chain fic
YESSSS thank you omg, this one is a fucking doozy and a follow-up to my published fic "damn the dark, damn the light" (which is extremely Dead Dove Do Not Eat MCD without this sequel lmao) in which izzy is caught in a time-loop after the events of the first fic and needs to learn some fuckin lessons before he can be allowed out of purgatory LMFAO. very much an "i am putting my blorbo in a jar and shaking it violently" fic and it's currently on hold due to gomens brainrot but man i love it !!!!
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😈 back again (just in case you didn’t write enough 😂)
never enough 😎 today we’re writing in the coffee shop!
"Nnghmgh," Crowley groans, arching over the backrest, "ugh, sorry, can't sit still anymore."
He slides off the side of his chair and for a moment Aziraphale thinks he's letting himself roll onto the floor, but he pushes to his feet and does a few odd wiggling stretches like he's trying to realign his spine.
Aziraphale can't help but chuckle. "Not much for desk work?"
help me finish this chapter! send me a 😈 to make me add 5 sentences to my wip and share a snippet!
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😈 it’s me again
Welcome Back My Friend 😎
"Christ, you alright?"
Aziraphale twists back around, hand moving to cover his heart as he takes a steadying breath. Crowley stares at him with one earbud in hand, brows arching into his hairline with concern.
"Y-yes," Aziraphale says, laughing nervously, "yes, it was - it was nothing, don't mind me."
"Didn't seem like nothing," Crowley says. "Not to sound like a horror movie cliché, but you look like you've seen a ghost."
help me finish my wip! send me a 😈 to make me add 5 sentences!
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👻 boo!
(good god these animals refuse to give me peace rn. why did i let another one inside LMFAO)
Friday night was when he started hearing the voice.
He’d been listening to records and grading when he heard something rusting again, so he’d gotten up and turned off the gramophone, and the noise stopped, as was becoming rather typical at this point. He’d reached to turn the music back on but froze when he heard a breathy sound. His heart kicked up a rapid pace and he’d had to strain to listen over the pounding in his ears.
send me a 👻 and i’ll add 5 sentences to my wip (and share a snippet!)
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💖 (dj khalid voice) another one
(anothah one !!)
Aziraphale groans softly as he sits up properly, stretching his arms over his head and arching his back, grimacing at the resulting pops and crackles. He slumps back down with a sigh, rubbing his tired eyes. It'll have to be takeaway for dinner again.
send me a 💖 to make me add three sentences to my wip
#i'm v pleased that i'm getting more than three sentences out per ask this is surprisingly productive !!#sorryisuckbutatleastiknow#asks#wip game#paranormal au
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💖
(Gonna be sending these all day lmao)
(bless u, keepin me on track LMAO)
Research is a tedious process no matter your level of expertise; add an unidentified, possibly extinct language to the mix and things slow to a crawl. Add to that the mystery of who delivered the book, and after a week you'll have almost no forward progress and a very irritable Aziraphale.
According to campus security, the footage of the social sciences building was "unreviewable" on the day the book arrived. All of it.
send me a 💖 to make me add three sentences to my wip
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What’s your favorite color?
green !!!!!!!! love green, love green things, especially dark greens and bluish greens, also yellow, nature colors 🥺🥺🥺🥺 what about you!
ask me things you want to know about me!
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ohohooo yes you can, but i am saving this ask for a little later because i have a bit i want to get down and i'll share it once i have B)
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For the fic game: limbo
Crowley has never been sure - he is the embodiment of uncertainty; he is an angel who fell and will never know why, abandoned by his creator in a limbo full of cursed knowledge he can't help but seek out even though he can never comprehend it. And he is sure he needs Aziraphale, and he doesn't know what to do with that knowledge, and he wants to be fucked about it.
send me a word; if it's in my wip, i'll share the snippet it's in - if not, i'll try and write it in
#this one was written in !! thank you for the word suggestion!#sorryisuckbutatleastiknow#asks#wip game
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because we’re carrying the fire ˚🕯️♱‧₊˚.
a good omens human-au horror fic by gaytectives
rating: explicit
(2/6+) ii. INFESTATION
When a tall, disinterested redhead with sunglasses and a face tattoo walks into Tadfield Drip, Aziraphale's stomach bottoms out.
Oh, good Lord, he thinks, cheeks warming. Well, if that's not him, Aziraphale will eat his tie.
listen to the companion playlist while you read! (x)
another avalanche of thank-yous to @disastroboy for the unbelievably helpful editing and @sorryisuckbutatleastiknow for beta-reading, editing, and hyping me up along the way! chapter two here we GO!
#good omens#good omens fic#good omens fic rec#good omens fanfiction#good omens human au#my writing#paranormal au#YEEEEEEEEEEE
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because we’re carrying the fire
a good omens human-au horror fic by gaytectives
When a mysterious book of dark nature comes into the care of Doctor Aziraphale Z. Fell, PhD in parapsychology and conservator of occult artefacts, his quiet and content life quickly begins to fly off the rails. When he fails to identify the unknown language and obscure sigil inside the book on his own, he reaches out for help from one Anthony J. Crowley, self-anointed demon expert and host of the podcast Hell’s Digest, at the behest of his caring and extremely nosy students.
Together, they work to uncover the book’s secrets; can they do it in time to save Aziraphale from the supernatural forces lying within?
rating: explicit
chapters: 1/6(?)
endless thank-yous to @disastroboy for helping get this chapter publishable and @sorryisuckbutatleastiknow for beta-editing for me and cheerleading through this whole thing! it literally wouldn't get written without ya. i cannot wait to share more of this story!!
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