Ineffable Classics

Here, we curate a collection of the most delightful Good Omens fanfiction from a wide range of excellent authors, tropes, and premises. We call our rather large library of remarkable recommendations the Ineffable Classics. These works have distinguished themselves to the proprietors of the library by their excellence, boldness, and ability to pluck at our heartstrings even after the unfortunate canonical events of the final 15.

These works all excel and are prime examples of great fanwork, thus their inclusion in our collection. However, we would like to inform readers of the library that the Curator and the team is biased in their own tastes and acknowledges so. They warmly welcome suggestions from attendees, or to hear your thoughts and opinions on the items in the collection.

The works will all be tagged by rating, with the more explicit works under the tag #adult omens, borrowed from one of our great inspirations, @aziraphales-library . We hope this will make browsing most efficient.

We would also like to add that the system we have implemented does not reflect the subjective quality of any work, and is purely based on the personal experience of the team. What they may enjoy may not be your cup of tea, and that is perfectly good.

With all this said, dear readers, welcome to our library🪶📚

- The Curator and Co

A series of letters between an angel and a demon during a period of separation, having occurred after an incident neither of them are mature enough to talk about sensibly, both being far too stubborn and obtuse to admit their feelings first.

Words: 8,132

Status: Complete

Rating: Explicit

Art Credit: Portrait of Marten Looten by Rembrandt van Rijn

All of Crowley's tapes turn into The Best of Queen, and all of his thoughts turn to Aziraphale.

In which Crowley has been subconsciously saving himself for Aziraphale for 6,000 years while Aziraphale has been fucking his way through the world's literary canon.

Words: 7,402

Status: Complete

Rating: Teen And Up

Art Credit: Self Portrait by Bo Bartlett

Crowley and Aziraphale find themselves at The Stonewall Inn on June 28, 1969.

Words: 4,221

Status: Complete

Rating: Teen And Up

Art Credit: NYC PRIDE: STONEWALL INN by Stephen Davan

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19205482

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Two years after Aziraphale stopped Crowley's... caper on the church, he's getting the crew back together for a different heist. Cereal-based silliness ensues.

Words: 5,866

Status: Complete

Rating: General Audiences

@haemey

Art Credit: I Like Cereal by Connor James Nevin

It wasn’t until late that evening that Aziraphale found the note left for him in the backroom, scrawled in a spiky script that he recognized at once.

Come find me, said the note, and then followed a sigil that burned fire-bright and hot when Aziraphale pressed his thumb to it. It was Crowley’s true name in the original alphabet from which all other alphabets descended. Aziraphale had never seen it before, but he recognized it at once.

Words: 14,174

Status: Complete

Rating: Explicit

@inkatesbush

Art Credit: Psyche and Charon by Alexander Zick

Everything was spinning, too hot, too intense. The whiskey still buzzed in Aziraphale’s veins, making him reckless. Their bodies moved together, hands grasping, legs tangling, mouths too preoccupied with kissing and gasping and biting to form actual words.

It felt dangerous, what they were doing.

It felt like something they could never come back from.

And neither of them stopped.

This was reckless. This was dangerous. They weren’t talking. They weren’t fixing things.

But right now, Aziraphale didn’t care.

He should have. He should have pulled back, should have said something to stop this, should have acknowledged the years they’d spent apart and the pain still lingering beneath the surface.

But Crowley’s hands were hot against his skin, his lips wet and bruising, his body all sharp angles and heat beneath him, and Aziraphale wanted.

OR

Aziraphale has made a few mistakes. The kind you wake up regretting. The kind you swear you won’t make again until you do. Over and over. Bad decisions, bad timing, and one very bad demon he can’t seem to stay away from.

Words: 22,772

Status: Complete

Rating: Explicit

Art Credit: Seated Nude by Malcolm T. Liepke.

@amtm1017

Why rein in that rather fantastic imagination he had been cursed with when the option to play out their first time— they are in a garden, Crowley reminds himself— is presenting itself so lovingly?

Like a ripe fruit, he thinks. It would be a sin not to pick it.

Words: 8,014

Status: Complete

Rating: Explicit

@racketghost

Art Credit: Landscape with Apple Tree by Levi Wells Prentice

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24426331

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There's some competition for Aziraphale and Crowley's usual table at the Ritz...

Words: 10,028

Status: Incomplete

Rating: Not Rated

@annethecatdetective

Art Credit: Calm blue Ambience by Jovica Vucinic

They make a black hole: a star made so heavy and so gloriously much, so much star, that it’s ready to collapse under its own weight. Crowley nods at them to do the honors. Beelzebub closes their eyes, and reaches out, gathering gasses and metals and weight and light and sound, and packs it all into the star, more, they think to it, more, more, more, you want more, and then the star wakes up, as it were, and realizes it’s hungry, and with a roar it takes a deep breath in and holds it. The universe begins to slip and tug into it, faster and faster, and Crowley barely yanks Beelzebub back in time, a hand fisted in the back of their robes.

“Thanks,” Beelzebub says.

“Don’t mention it,” Crowley says, and then he says, “Fuck, Beez, look at what we did.”

“Should we have, do you think?”

“Well, it’s too late now,” Crowley says.

Words: 10,190

Status: Complete

Rating: Teen And Up

@mayhawk

Art Credit: Untitled by Anish Kapoor

At some point along the way of the Arrangement, "toss you for Edinburgh" had quietly turned into "let's go together."

As Crowley lurks in the shadows of St. Giles' Cathedral, waiting to show his angel something that will no doubt amuse him, the city stirs old memories, drawing him back to the tangled closes of their shared history in the Old Town. Where ghost stories were shared over whiskey, where long-buried recollections, tucked beneath moss-laden stones, surfaced once more, and where far too much alcohol was consumed.

Words: 5,101

Status: Incomplete

Rating: Teen and Up

Art Credit: St Giles' Cathedral in Edinburgh by Louis H. Grimshaw

@jovipop

The next big European moment happened on a Thursday, it was almost sunny which was beautiful weather for Berlin‘s standards.

Crowley and Aziraphale take a trip to Berlin to witness the Fall of the Berlin Wall.

Words: 1,955

Status: Complete

Rating: General Audiences

Art Credit: Die Mauer by Jock McFadyen

Crowley turned back around, eyes narrowed. “You know,” he said, “just because the inside of your head is an endless loop of ‘Livin’ In the Sunlight’, it doesn’t mean you can’t try to understand the way everyone else thinks.”

Crowley gets in a mood and accuses Aziraphale of being too sunshiny for his own good. Aziraphale shows him otherwise.

Words: 6,001

Status: Complete

Rating: Explicit

@godihatethisfreakingcat

Art Credit: Inspiration in the Ordinary by Lindsay Weirich

It’s a couples’ dance and the exchanges and communication are mostly between two pairs who are dancing opposite of each other. Aziraphale and mademoiselle bow and greet their partners. So do the others. Aziraphale looks up.

One of them is charming Madame Laverne, one of the most beloved papillon socials in court. The other one is...

The long red hair and dark sunglasses along with a wide grin can only belong to the Spanish ambassador otherwise known as...

Crowley.

The music plays and the dance begins.

~~~

Aziraphale and Crowley have both spent time undercover in the court of the Sun King. One evening Aziraphale’s patience wears thin and he confronts his hereditary enemy. In the palace of deceit some truths will be shared.

Words: 2,163

Status: Complete

Rating: General Audiences

Art Credit: A ball at Versailles by Victor Joseph Chavet

@vecieminde

In which Crowley is a chess nerd for literally centuries, but comes to realize that he isn't actually that good at the game when he plays it with Aziraphale for the first time.

Words: 2,855

Status: Complete

Rating: General Audiences

Art Credit: The Chess Match by Max Oppenheimer

As part of their new arrangement, Crowley has convinced Aziraphale to sit for a painting by Leonardo da Vinci. While he poses — with his wings on display — Crowley discovers just how sensitive Aziraphale’s wings are. And Aziraphale discovers just how sensitive Crowley is to praise.

Words: 3,795

Status: Complete

Rating: Explicit

@zin-lynn-c

Art Credit: The Virgin of the Rocks by Leonardo da Vinci

Crowley's never much seen the appeal of sex. Aziraphale shows him the error of his ways. Cue endless smut

Words: 5,792

Status: Complete

Rating: Explicit

Art Credit: Two Men by Lucian Freud

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20599265

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