PanDemonicDisaster

presumably, they cleaned it up, repainted it, refitted the interior - and took it up to Edinburgh (or somehow found *another* Bentley cab to use, although that would be pretty difficult - it was hard enough to source the first one, they're pretty rare, and still very expensive.) My money is on that the S2 cab only is still the S1 cab only, just painted again. But either way, the s2 cab only was created to match the s1 car and interior.

THEN... the s2 Bentley arrived in Edinburgh,  all black, with 4 doors, and blue interior.

Now either it was too late, too expensive, or no one noticed/cared about the SFX cab only not matching the new Bentley, so they just rolled with it, and hoped no one would notice.

(Spoiler alert, I did notice)

S1 Bentley, belonging to my friend Jeremy, she’s named “Mary.” She’s a 1934 Bentley Derby Coupe with coachwork built by Thrupp & Maberley, in two tone grey and black with red leather interior.

Her Good Omens number plates are still in the boot, and the Velvet Underground CD is still in the passenger door pocket where Michael Sheen left it.

Now THIS is the cab only used in season 2 - as you can see, it retains the two door, black and grey colour scheme of Mary from Season 1, who was NOT used in season 2. Yes I know why she wasn’t used, and no I will not be divulging that information, as it’s private and not something for me to say. All I can tell you is that I knew before season 2 even began filming, that Mary was not going to be in it and why that was. I kept that information under my hat, until it was confirmed that they had a new car, as I didn’t want to spoil anything for anyone.

Now HERE we have the season 2 Bentley. She is NOT the same as Mary - she’s a 4 door entirely in black, with a dark blue interior, she’s not a Thrupp & Maberley body, as there were only two of those constructed, and of those two, only Mary survives. I’m not certain WHO the coachbuilder was, I don’t think she’s Mulliner or Park-Ward, but not certain. This was her in Edinburgh during filming.

Season 2 Bentley on set in Edinburgh.

... and me [@scrapheapchallenge], with the season 2 Bentley on set in Edinburgh a few weeks ago before season 2 aired. I met her before and after her transformation - before she was taken to Edinburgh for fliming.

So, we have 2 and a half Bentleys in use between season 1 and season 2. And when you look at the colour of the seats in season 2, you will see them hop back and forth between blue and red. When they’re blue, it’s the real, fully functioning car. When they’re red, it was the cab only, so the shot will be using CGI to complete the vehicle afterwards." [End]

Canon

The story may not fit directly in the canon universe, but they're still an angel and a demon.

Putting the "Bet" in "Betrothed" (23K; Rated T) by @rogue-bard

Aziraphale and Crowley make a bet on who can live “like a human” the longest. Apparently that includes dating - how convenient for the both of them!

If only they had paid any attention to how humans live! But what can you do when, for the past 6000 years, you only had eyes for each other?

Meanwhile, the actual humans around our lovebirds are torn between having to suffer through their shenanigans and enjoying the absurd romcom that is unfolding in front of them.

“You can just miracle your taxes filed, angel,” Crowley reminded the bookshop owner in gentle exasperation – a mood that seemed to exclusively strike him whenever he was beside beige-clad celestial beings. “I’m sure that sounds like an easy solution to you,” Aziraphale sniffed and Crowley’s hackles rose immediately at his tone, “but some of us value doing things the human way.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” Crowley demanded to know. “Well, let’s just say if Hell ever cut you off from your clothes-related miracles, we’d have to move to a country that values naturism more than the English – or I’d have to pick you up from a jail cell every morning.” “Excuse me?” Crowley noticed his eyes getting wide enough to show a peek of yellow over the black glasses, so he quickly tried to reel himself in, act nonchalant and pop his hip out to the side. It resulted in Aziraphale giving him The Look (not the good one – the bastard one... no, not the good bastard one, either), which may or may not have been due to the audible creak that came from the demon’s spine. Miraculously snakey anatomy only got him so far. Anyway, Crowley decided that the most nonchalant thing he could do was ignoring the angel’s reaction. So he continued: “You think you’re the one who knows how to do things the human way? You wouldn’t even know the ‘human way’ if it hit you with a tax fraud investigation.”

***

The Fairest Demon in All the Land (56K; Rated T) by @rogue-bard

Another @rogue-bard story on this list, with an absolutely fantastic premise.

Aziraphale finds Crowley injured and trying to head home. The problem is that ‘home’, according to a confused Crowley who seems under the frightful belief that he is still an angel, is Heaven. So Aziraphale tries to keep Crowley safe on Earth while they jog his memory.

“GET BACK!” Crowley yelled and whipped the blade in a wide haymaker around himself. Aziraphale actually stopped dead in his tracks. Thank God! Perhaps Crowley had underestimated his own fighting skills after all. He huffed, already exhausted from his sudden burst of strength, and heaved himself back onto his feet. “Hah…!” Crowley paused for effect after one triumphant laugh (not because he was out of breath or anything) and relished in being threatening for once in his life. “Now you’re scared, huh? Not so brave when the other guy is also armed, are you?” “I’ll be honest,” the knight in shining white armour answered. “I was a bit taken aback by that swing. But only because I was under the impression that you have held a sword before. Had that swing hit anything, it would have probably broken your wrist.” “Oh, come off it,” Crowley did his best to lift said sword again. When he felt his wrist tremble at the weird angle, he covertly adjusted his grip. “That’s better,” Aziraphale commented drily. “But with that stance, even half a hit will knock you off your feet.” “I think you’re just trying to get me to surrender,” Crowley snorted with as much derisiveness as someone with a lung crying for air could possibly muster. “Afraid?” “Of you hurting yourself? Yes. That’s the whole point!” Aziraphale sheathed his weapon. Wow! A victory? Crowley really was better at this whole combat thing than even he had thought!

***

Totally Not Judging, But… (3K; Rated T) by @waitingtobebroken

Outsider POV. I love a good outsider POV story, seeing the Ineffable Husbands through someone else's eyes.

Alex, Mr. Fell's new bookshop assistant, isn't judging the man who just walked into said bookshop, dressed in black leather, a tattoo on his face, and proceeded to shamelessly flirt with Mr. Fell. Despite the fact that Mr. Fell made it very clear he was waiting for his "darling husband, oh, you will love him, Alex, truly" so they could go on a lunch date.

They really aren't! But if they were...

Now, Alex knew it was wrong to judge people. It was uncalled for and it was ugly and, above all, it was stupid. Alex was well-aware, thank you very much. So here were the facts, as objective and void of any colourful judgement as they could make them. There they were, minding their own business, waiting for Mr. Fell to go on his "lunch date" with his "darling husband, oh, you will love him, always so kind and generous". When, in strode a person with a god-honest- Okay, no, bias. Let's try again. A man walked in, dressed in black leather, a permanent scowl on his face. Also? A face tattoo. Okay, Alex was judging. Just a little. They really tried not to. "Fell," said stranger growled, a verb or a noun or even a freaking adjective. Or, and Alex only knew this from context clues, a name. The stranger didn't even bother turning to them. It was very hard to tell what he was looking at, what with the sunglasses, worn at 3pm on a miraculously sunny afternoon. But it almost felt like the man went out of his way to appear like he wasn't looking at Alex.

***

I've Un-Fallen and I Can't Get Down (24K; Rated G) by @scrapheapchallenge

One I've already read twice. The bitmoji art is brilliant. It's just a genuinely fun story of Crowley (and to a lesser extent, Aziraphale) causing chaos in Heaven. There are glitterbombs!

Discorporation goes with the job, it happens now and then. Bye bye, coroporation, hello Hell, hello the bureaucracy of Hell’s recorporation department, get a new body, and get back to the grind. At least that’s how it usually goes, at least until it doesn’t, and Crowley is in for a surprise…

Gabriel shrugged. “What do you want to know?” “WHY am I HERE?” Crowley growled. “Wouldn’t that be your first question, under the circumstances?” “I assumed you’d be pleased to be back.” “Are YOU pleased I’m back?” Gabriel attempted to remain blank, but a slight muscle twitch on his face gave him away.   “My feelings on the matter are immaterial. Instructions have… been issued. We are to follow those orders. As such, you have been issued with a new corporation, an office, and will be given your own orders…” “That doesn’t explain WHY I’m here.”

***

Demon Summoning is More Fun with Friends (7K; Rated G) by @little-mx-sunflower

Outsider POV. Probably my favorite demon summoning fic. You get a BAMF!Aziraphale who never raises his voice and a BAMF!Crowley who feels so in charge of the situation that even you feel tense for the idiots who summoned him.

When Crowley gets summoned, Aziraphale wants to tag along.

“Hello. Terribly sorry to interrupt.” Matt startled, whipping his head toward the source of the voice. How had he missed the guard coming in? At the top of the stairs stood a man. His presence so out of place it took Matt a moment to register that it wasn’t the guard. This newcomer wasn’t one of them. Matt knew that. But what was he doing here, how had he gotten into the basement. Albert, however, recovered quickly. “Yes, hello!” he said, stepping forward, his voice overly bright. “Who are you? Are you one of the librarians? We’re just performing a reenactment, no need to worry.” A small, perplexed smile crossed the strangers face. “A reenactment?” he repeated, almost as if he found the idea charming. “How fascinating.” His voice was warm, posh, and perfectly polite. Matt felt a little bad for the poor man and what he had walked into. The newcomer stepped forward and Matt was better able to see him in the dim light. He was older, possibly somewhere in his fifties, or maybe early sixties judging by the white hair. Dressed in a neatly pressed pale brown vest over a white shirt, he was even wearing a bow-tie. He certainly looked like he could be a librarian.

***

feel the earthquake in the room (24K; Rated E) by @quitequaintrelle

This story somehow manages to be one of the most laugh-out-loud funny and angstiest fic in this whole list. It takes real talent to pull that off.

The Second Coming is imminent. Aziraphale and Crowley, naturally, spend four days and three nights at a motel in Palm Springs dealing with their own issues.

"It's Aziraphale, Lord." "Oh please, Yeshua's fine. Lord is my Mother's name. Eh? Eh?" His elbow bumps Aziraphale's side in a playful nudge. The flash of teeth indicates he is immensely proud of that joke. "Aziraphale, yeah… You were at my thingy, right?" "Your…?" Yeshua holds up his hands, wriggling his fingers in the universal magician's sign for ta-da. Aziraphale can see the fabric of his kaftan through the twin holes in the centres of his palms. Right. Yeshua leans in and whispers conspiratorially, "You wanna see the one on my side? Pretty sick scar." Aziraphale isn't sure what his face is doing, but it's enough that Yeshua simply shrugs and moves on. "I was so glad to hear you're the one in charge of this whole shebang instead of that other angel, the one who told Mary-Mom about me. What a d—"

********************************************

Human AU

They're both human. There's no magic. Just people being people.

On the Tops of Buses (3K; Rated T) by @waitingtobebroken

Outsider POV. Another short by @waitingtobebroken. You won't expect the ending to this one!

It's not that Andy minds the early morning bus. But it does seem to make for some strange busfellows.

And, it's not like Andy is trying to eavesdrop. Honestly, she is way too tired for that. But it's hard to ignore the couple a few rows behind her, who sound like they are seconds away from jumping at each other.

She has yet to decide if that means fighting or... something else...

The two men were sitting a few rows behind her. The red-haired one, by the window, and dressed like he had just crawled out of the tenth nightclub of the night, before dragging himself upstairs, and… She really had no idea how he had managed that, judging by the way he was speaking. A blond man, right beside him, clothes and scowl resembling the dozens of teachers Andy had disappointed in her life. She shouldn't have bothered being careful. They weren't even looking at her. The redhead, the one that had presumably spoken, was looking at his companion expectantly. Sitting- and she really hesitated to call that spine-crunching sprawl he was inflicting upon himself that, but needs must. Sitting, all over his own seat and half of his companion's too. His arm stretched over the top of the other person's seat, forcing him to sit at the very edge of it. Back ramrod straight. Andy couldn’t judge. Honestly, the drunk one was probably doing him a favour, with how filthy those seats looked.

***

Forbidden Fruit (131K; Rated E) by @henriettarhippo-hrh

It's difficult to pull off a love-at-first-sight story that feels realistic, but the author does magnificently at this one. They are drawn to each other from the very second their eyes meet, and they become inseparable from the get-go. You never feel like they only got together because they're Aziraphale and Crowley; you feel like they got together because they are genuinely interested in one another.

Also, it's nice that they both have good families. Aziraphale's is a little more cold and formal, but they're overall good people who genuinely love one another.

When meeting Bee’s fiancé Gabriel, Crowley never expected to fall for his brother. However, Bee’s made one thing very clear: Crowley must not get involved with Aziraphale.

But try as he might to honour his promise, Crowley is hopelessly drawn to him. Amidst the secrets and lies, the boys must decide if they're willing to risk it all.

Forbidden fruit has never been so tempting.

Crowley’s heart leapt into his throat, and he flicked his sunglasses up into his hair to get a better look.  Aziraphale was a vision: soft, white-blond curls framed his face, catching the early afternoon light in a way that made him seem almost ethereal. As the man descended the steps, Crowley was captivated by every detail of him, from how he moved with a gentle grace, to the vintage outfit perfectly tailored to his form; a cream-coloured waistcoat hugging his soft curves. His face was kind and open, with intelligent warmth. The summer heat had flushed his cheeks, or maybe that was a touch of shyness as he approached the gathered families. Crowley couldn't help but notice how the man's hands fidgeted slightly with the hem of his waistcoat; the charming gesture made Crowley's heart flutter. Aziraphale’s gaze swept over the crowd until his eyes locked with Crowley’s, and his step faltered ever so slightly, his lips parting in a small, surprised smile as he took in Crowley standing there with his family. The world seemed to narrow down to just the two of them for a moment. Crowley’s pulse quickened; he wanted to go to this man immediately. Aziraphale’s eyes, a mesmerising blend of blue and green, mirrored Crowley’s own surprise and delight. Crowley had never seen anyone so captivating in all his life.

***

On A Date With Tom (7K; Rated T) by @di-42

Part of the SEEKING breakup stories collection.

I love how Aziraphale is far more interested in the breakup stories going on at the next table than his date. And how Crowley is obviously eavesdropping on the date and laughing at how boring Aziraphale's new companion is.

There was simply no way this was the same man as the one in the photograph on the dating application his friend had insisted he use to get out there and meet someone.

Aziraphale felt a surge of irritation towards the gorgeous man: how dare he not be Tom?

The man’s hypnotic eyes ran down Aziraphale’s figure, and when they came up again they fixed on Aziraphale’s own eyes. His smile looked genuine now, and when he shifted his weight from one food to the other his movement was so fluid that Aziraphale felt like a tap of hot, honey-like substance had been opened in his chest. The stranger was wearing black clothes, so tight that they looked as if they’d been painted on him, and Aziraphale had to chase away all the horribly inappropriate thoughts that were leaving his mouth dry.   “I’m Crowley.“ The man’s slightly raspy voice interrupted Aziraphale’s poor attempt at self discipline. “Nina is on her way. This whole thing-” he waved the slim stack of paper he was holding, “-is for her.” Aziraphale tilted his head and scrunched his eyebrows while Crowley taped some of the sheets of paper on the other table. “What thing?” “You’re here for the breakup meeting, yeah?”   “Certainly not!” He straightened his back to reach his full height. “I’m here for a date!” “Oh,” the stranger -Crowley- said, and did he sound disappointed? “Um, what- what is a breakup meeting, exactly, if I may ask?” Crowley perked up. “My friend was dumped in the most shameful way,” he said, a little too excitedly, given what he was relaying, Aziraphale thought. He took one of the sheets of paper from where they lay half scattered on the table next to them and shoved it towards Aziraphale. 

***

Made in Hell: Matchmaking Agency (102K; Rated E) by @hermiola

There were a number of times I was howling with laughter at the bad dates Crowley set Aziraphale up on. The date with Jim was particularly funny. Seriously one of the best Jims you've ever read in GO.

After yet another disastrous date, Aziraphale Fell is ready to throw in the towel and resign himself to the solitary existence he doesn’t mind all that much. Enter Anthony J. Crowley, matchmaker extraordinaire, who bets Aziraphale the 100% success rate of Made in Hell, his matchmaking agency, that he can find him a suitable match in no time. After all, Crowley is a consummate professional with a troubled dating history who has learned from his past mistakes and has sworn off love himself: he’s certainly not going to fall for the charms of an extremely fussy bookseller… or is he?

Between dubious romantic prospects, far too much meddling, ridiculous antics and a developing connection, Made in Hell’s success rate might not be the only thing on the line here.

Nina snorted before setting the last of the clean glasses on the shelf behind her and flinging the tea towel on her shoulder. “That bad, uh?” she asked, walking up to him. The answer must have been plain on Aziraphale’s face because she didn’t wait for him to reply before pouring him a large sherry. “Dare I say much worse?” “What did this one do? Asked you to split the check?” “Very funny, my dear,” Aziraphale chided with a withering look. That had happened exactly one time, on a second date he’d agreed to just to see where things would go, and with a check amounting to less than ten pounds, so… “No, but he touted himself as a rather successful ‘influencer’,” which was strike one, “and the first thing he said to me was that he understood why I didn’t put my height in my bio. That if he were as short as me, he wouldn’t have either.” Nina frowned. “Was he very tall?” “He was shorter than me!” Aziraphale cried out in dismay, the outrage that had been simmering inside of him for the better part of an hour now sparking back to life. He pouted and angrily sipped his sherry while pretending Nina wasn’t trying her best not to burst out laughing. “Was he really?” “Yes, but he made very clear that it didn’t count, not in his case.” “No?” “No, you see, he apparently qualifies as a ‘short king’, whatever that means. He even had it printed on his t-shirt, just in case it dared slip my mind,” he added, not bothering to conceal his disdain. “While you would be a…” “How would I know? A vertically challenged viscount?” At present, he identified as a man who had had quite enough of this dating balderdash. “Call me old fashioned, but a person’s height should be the least interesting thing about them.”

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Non-Human AU

One or both of them are non-human, or have some sort of supernatural abilities (like magic) but aren’t angel or demon.

The Serpent’s House (124K; Rated T) by @hope-inthedark

Set in the world of TJ Klune's The House in the Cerulean Sea, though you don't need to know anything about it to follow this story.

I loved the world setting of this story, and the way all the child characters are fully realized. Crowley, as the head of the orphanage that Aziraphale is tasked with inspecting, very clearly loves his charges, and Aziraphale soon comes to care for them, too.

Aziraphale Fell has been working at Heaven's Gate for the better part of twenty years as an assessor of orphanages for children with magical abilities. His life in London is fine, mostly. He has a house, and a cat, and that should be enough.

When he receives a strange assignment that has him bound for a month-long stay on a remote Scottish island, however, he begins to realise that everything may not be as it seems.

“But you work on the island.”  Anathema glanced over at him. “Yes, of course. It’s mine.”   “It can’t be yours ,” Aziraphale said. His head was spinning. “There’s a Heaven’s Gate orphanage there, which makes it government property.”  “Usually, yes. But not this time. Not this island.”  “No, no, I’ve read the handbook, those are the regulat—”  “Tadfield Island isn’t your average Heaven’s Gate orphanage,” Anathema interrupted. Her tone was soft and kind, so Aziraphale bit back his rebuttal. “It never has been. Look, Mister Fell, can I give you just one piece of advice?”  “I don’t know if that’s appropriate.”  Anathema shrugged. “You don’t have to take it, but I’m going to give it anyway.”  “There’s really no need.”  “There is, " Anathema said.  “I’ve done assessments like this countless times before,” Aziraphale tried to explain.  “No,” said Anathema seriously. “You haven’t. My advice is this: forget everything you know about what an orphanage is, what it looks like, and how it runs. The island is different, Mister Fell. There’s nowhere like it, and I don’t just mean compared to other orphanages. There’s nowhere like it in the world.” 

***

Social organization and adaptability in Xenoerpeton anthropoides: transference of social bonding habits and mate selection (107K; Rated E) by @liquidlyrium

You've probably seen artwork for this one floating around. There's also a graphic novel in the works, with art done by the incalculably talented @gleafer. This is one of those stories you devour as quickly as you can read. It's exciting and beautiful, and it handles the communication differences between the two characters wonderfully.

Publish or perish has never been more apt. Professor Aziraphale Eastwise finds himself in the privileged position to engage with a Xenoerpeton anthropoides (or merlotl). An elusive, semiaquatic evolutionary cousin shrouded in mystery. And the answers he receives aren’t what he expects of a simple creature—even one who is human-like.

Crowley is a social pariah among his kind who is undeniably funny, curious, sensitive, and intelligent. His discovery of the depths of merlotl thought could cement his fame and renown for decades to come, but this opportunity comes at a cost—Aziraphale is trapped in a cave with slowly dwindling supplies and rapidly diminishing hope. The longer he’s trapped, the more he finds himself considering questions of a forbidden nature. Questions that can’t possibly be ethical. Or wanted. Besides, surely it isn’t productive to even consider what attraction or mating behaviors look like in merlotl. After all, if a primate and an amphibious creature fell in love, where would they live? And Aziraphale needs rescue soon.

Or: How budget cuts lead to the discovery of a century—and Aziraphale's heart. A story about falling in love with the subject of one’s research grant.

A cool, damp hand pressed against his ribcage. Aziraphale sucked in a sharp breath. He held perfectly still. Those claws didn’t seem sharp, but the merlotl looked strong. Aziraphale squirmed as the webbing between those fingers tickled against his skin. He let out a breathy laugh as he realized what this was about. “No, I don’t have gills.” The corners of the merlotl’s mouth pulled back and its eyes narrowed. Aziraphale knew there was no way it could understand him. The creature touched its own chest, just underneath the last slash of a gill. A swift motion—again, so much like a snake—and he circled around behind Aziraphale, searching through his hair. “I don’t have those either, I’m afraid.” He didn’t move as those claws carded through his damp curls. “No external gills at all, no way to filter out any nasties that get into your water. I do apologize. I hope I didn’t befoul your home too much.” Aziraphale kept his tone steady and soft. Suddenly, he was being treated to the flex of those gill stalks, right in his face—a rather up-close-and-personal demonstration—before the creature dove back into the pond. It stayed under for several moments before rising back up, flicking its stalks again. This time when it broke the surface, it reared up until the water sat where his waist would be, if it were human. It brushed its thumb along the lower edge of its ribcage and then it sank down again, leaving his head above water. “Oh.” Aziraphale was breathless as the merlotl demonstrated this again for him. Making sure he understood. As soon as it—he heard the noise of comprehension, he was back on shore again, shaking Aziraphale’s discarded shirt in one hand. “Oh, you thought I was injured. You thought I couldn’t breathe!” He clasped his hands together in delight. Aziraphale was nearly delirious with the ramifications, the implications. He had never believed merlotl to lack intelligence, but it was quite another thing to see such a thing displayed. It also made him feel a little less lonely at the prospect of being stranded here. After a few more moments, the merlotl slipped under the water’s surface again, going deeper into the gloom, beyond Aziraphale’s sight. This time, he didn’t come back right away. Aziraphale could just hear a brief sound of the water’s surface rippling, and then nothing. Nothing but the sound of water dripping deeper within the caves. Aziraphale sighed and stripped off his clothes, hoping the bare bits of sunlight streaming in here would be enough to help them get dry before nightfall.

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Fandom Trumps Hate 2025

I won two fics for this year's Fandom Trumps Hate auction by the super talented authors, @bellisima-writes and @joyandotherstories. Neither is fully posted yet, but they're fabulous stories, and you should absolutely be reading them.

Faery Godfathers (20/23 chapters; Rated M) by @bellisima-writes

Fae AU. With so many of my favorite tropes and one of my favorite genres, this story is gorgeous and exciting, full of plot and fully realized characters. It alternates between Aziraphale/Crowley and Warlock/Adam, and the relationships fit their characters. Aziraphale and Crowley are older, and their relationship grows more maturely. Warlock and Adam are college-aged, and they're full of passion and spontaneity.

Seelie Knight Crowley has mentored Prince Adam for most of his life. Brilliant, arrogant, and painfully reckless, nineteen-year-old Adam is far from ready to take the throne from his power-hungry father, King Thaddeus. But as the wedding of Prince Warlock, the Unseelie Prince, to his future queen approaches, certain events are put into motion that set the two Princes and their mentors, Knights Crowley and Aziraphale, on a path that could forever change the fabric of both Courts.

It's a reverse omens, fake relationship, double enemies to lovers, Fae AU. Just go with it.

"Hi, Aziraphale," Warlock said, shoving his hands in his pockets and kicking the dirt in front of him. "We've discussed this." "I know." "You are not allowed to venture into the material plane while the sun is out." "I know." "You are the Prince of your court. It's far too dangerous-" "For fuck sake, Aziraphale, I know! Shit. You sound like my mother." The badger growled, straightening itself out to its full height. But before it could reply, the tree's voice broke into a shout. "Do not make me come up there and drag you back myself, Adam." The eyes of the tree were suddenly glowing. Johnson began to scuttle backward; the anger coming off of Adam had begun to sting his skin. "I forbid you." His voice sounded bigger now, older. "I am the Prince. You work for me, remember?" He turned away from the tree, looking once again a boy of Johnson's age. "You're not my dad." And with that, the vines of ivy that lined the bottom of the boulder slithered up the rock and wrapped themselves around Adam's wrists. He didn't fight them, simply continued to glare at the vines as his shoulders grew tense at the effort of remaining still. The air grew thick before a pop of pressure, and he was gone in a swirl of dried leaves.

***

The Rule of the Rose (2/15 chapters; Rated M) @joyandotherstories

Beauty & The Beast AU. I've had the honor of reading this entire story, so I know you're in for a treat. I've been a sucker for Beauty & The Beast AUs since reading Atalan's The Rose and the Serpent.

Ten years ago, the castle to the north of the tiny French village of Tadfield (the name being translated from the French, of course) was cursed. These days, it's allegedly inhabited by a fearsome beast. Crowley is not interested in this. He only wants to take care of Warlock Dowling, his nannying charge, and avoid the attentions of Lucifer, local spy-for-hire. The universe has other plans, though. When Warlock's future is threatened and he runs away, Crowley must allow himself to be trapped with the beast in the castle to save him. The beast is not what he would have expected, though: Anxious, kind, and shy, not to mention extremely sexy. Can Crowley escape? Will he want to? Can he keep his heart intact if he does?

It was not the darkest hour of the night when everything started. Nor was it storming. It was a nice day, in fact. But don’t let that fool you. Deep and dark events can still occur when the weather is pleasantly mild, with a medium chance of afternoon showers. The deep and dark event in question was a visit from an old woman holding a rose. She was wizened and bent nearly double with age, draped in dirty and tattered shawls. It wasn’t clear what she was doing at the castle, or why she was out in the forest at all, or where the rose had come from, but nonetheless, there she was, asking for shelter, saying there was nowhere else her old legs and her old walking stick could reach before nightfall, and offering the rose as payment. Beelzebub, the captain of the guard, brought the request to Gabriel, the governing prince and therefore the castle’s highest available authority. It was, perhaps, nothing but bad luck that had brought the woman to the castle at the same time that Gabriel was coping with the onset of a visit from his royal cousins (Michael, Uriel, Sandalphon, and Saraqael) and their entourages. “No, of course we don’t have room for a beggar,” Prince Gabriel snapped, striding down a hallway as he moved from organizing something to organizing something else. His princely cape flapped from his broad shoulders in the breeze from his speed. “We barely have room for the people we already have.” “That izzz what I told her, Your Highnezzz,” replied Captain Beelzebub, who, despite the foot’s or greater difference in their heights, had never had difficulty keeping up with Gabriel’s much longer tread. “And I can’t have anyone dirty or uncouth or ugly hanging around during the royal visit,” Gabriel added, his square jaw clenching in distaste. “I do not sully my castle with riffraff.” “Obviouzly, Your Highnezzz. Your castle management is exzellent.” The captain turned left with the prince down a gleaming white corridor. “Thank you, Captain. It’s nice when someone notices. Your, uh, captaining is great too. Top-grade captaining.”

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And finally, I've started posting my latest story, a murder mystery sequel to my own post-S2 fix-it fic.

The Devil's in the Details (appr. 30 chapters eventually; rated T)

The Second Coming has been averted and former Supreme Archangel Aziraphale is back home in the bookshop with his demon, free to show the world how much in love they are. And if there are a few more angels and demons hanging around than there used to be ... well, change is inevitable when you're immortal.

Now if only they could figure out why Hell seems to be bent on harassing Nina. Or who's killing people around Soho? And what brings Maggie back to town?

[Crowley] picked up after a couple of rings. “Hey, gorgeous,” he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice. “What’s up?” My cheeks warmed, and I couldn't hold back my own smile. “We have a bit of a Hell-associated situation here.” He sucked in a breath. “Okay, I’ll be there in a second. Hold the phone out, and I'll jump through it.” “No, no! It’s not an emergency, darling. I just need some advice.” “Okay,” he said warily. “What’s going on?” I relayed the events of the morning to him. “We call them the Disposable Demon for a reason,” he said. “This could just be a prank someone was playing. Might even be a betting pool.” “A betting pool?” “Sometimes demons will place bets to see how many Erics they can get discorporated in a single day. Dagon pretends to be pissed about all the paperwork, but I've seen them placing their own bets.” “That’s awful! I hope you’ve never done anything like that.” “Of course not,” he said, sounding so offended I knew he was lying. I expressed my displeasure through the simple method of saying absolutely nothing until he broke the silence with a sheepish, “Well, I mean, I haven’t done it in a few, uh, couple of … centuries anyway.” I let the lie pass. “What do you think about them being told they’d be able to regain their memories?”