Ineffably Yours (A Good Omens Podfic): Recent Episodes
Celestial Biscuit Club
A fan made podfic of Ineffably Yours by SecondHandNews.
Various narrators. Edited by AmbassadorInara, Quannon, and Pumpkinandbum. Cover art by CynSyn. Narrator art by AmbassadorInara.
(Posted with permission.)
This chapter is the last in Part One of Ineffably Yours! Many, many thanks to our chief editor AmbassadorInara for all of her hard work! If you would like to find out what happens next before we begin posting Part 2, you can read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20312470 Part 2 posting schedule TBA.
“Crowley,” he said, voice raised as he leaned over the arm of the sofa to call out to the demon who was clattering about in the kitchen, wine in hand. “Do you ever think about all the forks in the road, how different things might have been?” Edited by Pumpkinandbum
The only upshot of Crowley’s descent into demonic gloom was that it had forced Aziraphale to remain positive. One of them had to be, it was the unspoken rule. Edited by AmbassadorInara
He had, before they fell from heaven, found curling up next to Aziraphale the ultimate joy. Now it was heart-wrenching, a nightly eight hour reminder of everything he stood to lose in a matter of days. Edited by AmbassadorInara
Crowley sighed, sitting forward to pull his t-shirt over his head and reveal the AGNES NUTTER 2020 slogan that was emblazoned across his chest in Aziraphale’s trademark looping handwriting. “Any ideas where this came from?” Edited by AmbassadorInara
Aziraphale loved Earth, Crowley knew that, anybody who had ever come within a fifty mile radius of the angel knew that, but he had loved heaven too. Edited by AmbassadorInara
“Heaven is still open to you, Crowley. All you have to do is confess.” Edited by AmbassadorInara
It was just theatre to them, he realised, they were so detached from the depth of what this day meant. They weren’t there to share in forgiveness, to welcome the Fallen home, they were there for a show. Edited by AmbassadorInara
“Fancy thwarting the Great Plan one last time?” Raphael laughed, but it was a hollow sound. Edited by AmbassadorInara
“This is it, angel. This is either the last night before paradise or the last night we ever spend together.” Edited by Pumpkinandbum.
If he didn’t do this, and if he didn’t do it that day, it would be Crowley standing there the next morning contemplating how much of his soul he could afford to give away in hell’s name. Edited by AmbassadorInara
Crowley looked up at the sky and let his mind wander to a time so many thousands of years before. Before Eden, before he fell for Aziraphale, before he fell at all, incidentally. Edited by AmbassadorInara.
“I used to think we would find a way out of this place, lose ourselves in the stars, disappear into something that was just for us.” Edited by AmbassadorInara
“We were woefully unprepared for this, angel.” Crowley slung his bag on top of a bin and began rifling through it in search of any offending liquids before they braved the chaos of security checks. Edited by Pumpkinandbum
“I have literally no idea what I’m doing,” Crowley confessed, pulling the gravy-stained apron over his head to reveal his own Christmas jumper, chosen lovingly by Aziraphale, who declared he would look just adorable in it. Edited by Quannon
“You sold a book?” Aziraphale heaved out the question as if Crowley had just confessed to murder. Edited by AmbassadorInara
“Are you all right?” he asked, cupping one hand around Aziraphale’s ear to drown out some of the music. Decayed Disease had just taken to the stage and they were not known for their gentle melodies. Edited by AmbassadorInara
“I’m here, angel! The prodigal demon has returned!” he shouted, slamming the door closed with a flourish as the last customer fled out into the street. Edited by Pumpkinandbum.
“What is this?” Crowley asked eventually, words formed slowly as he turned the leaflet over to look for small print. “What does this mean, angel?”
“I thought maybe you wouldn’t bring it,” Aziraphale said lightly, glancing down at the statue and feeling his cheeks flush. “You know it makes me…tense.
Crowley and Aziraphale followed him dutifully, hand in hand, not having the heart to mention they didn’t care whether the wardrobes were walk-in or free standing or non-existent. Edited by AmbassadorInara
As he stared up at the infinite stars, millennia-old light making the steady journey across the galaxy, Crowley remembered, for a moment, life before he fell. Edited by Pumpkinandbum
“I can genuinely say that in the six thousand years I’ve had this body that was the closest I’ve ever come to being discorporated.” Crowley pitched his arm back and then swung it forward, letting go of a smooth pebble and watching it bounce across the calm water.
“You’d better stay out of sight.” Aziraphale turned back to look at him before he drew the final symbol and gestured over to the doorway that lay behind the portal he had drawn. Edited by Pumpkinandbum
“Like what you see?” Aziraphale asked, voice tinged with teasing as he brought a hand up to shield his eyes from the sun. Edited by AmbassadorInara
“What are you doing?” he hissed, rushing into the kitchen and tugging the blinds closed before anybody else could witness the mid-morning…display. Edited by AmbassadorInara
Crowley had asked him what he really wanted, if he set duty and heaven aside. Aziraphale had known his answer before Crowley had finished asking the question, had always known, if he was honest. Edited by AmbassadorInara
When Aziraphale thought back, many years later, to the precise moment when he had gone from merely enjoying Crowley’s company to being willing to fight heaven and hell just to protect him from everything rotten in the world, that was it. Edited by AmbassadorInara
Honesty and bravery, that was what they had been dancing around for all of those years. It had only taken one of them to take the first terrifying step towards truth, to say 'we’re wasting time, I need you'. Edited by AmbassadorInara
Crowley slammed the door to his apartment, sagged back against it and pressed the heels of his hands against closed eyes as he tried to calm the screaming in his chest. How could this happen now, after they had been so careful for so long? Edited by AmbassadorInara
It had been eight months since the Arrangement had come to an end, and Aziraphale’s patience with playing the role of a perfect principality was wearing thin. Edited by Quannon
Crowley paced a small circle, hands clasped behind his neck. He looked up at the moon and barked out a laugh. “Are you ever going to think about anything before you do it or do you plan on spending eternity blindly following orders? You have no idea what they’re asking you to do, do you?” TW/CW: Suicide. Edited by Quannon
“You had a champagne reception and canapés, we had lukewarm celery and Elizabeth Bathory doing a cappella covers of songs from the fourteenth century. You know how I feel about the fourteenth century.” Edited by AmbassadorInara
It bought them time, the possibility of a future made of more than pipe dreams and late night honesty delivered on a phone screen. Edited by AmbassadorInara
“Fancy a jolly to Brighton?” the angel asked, retrieving a bottle of suncream from the basket and brandishing it in Crowley’s direction, looking pointedly at the demon’s pale skin. Edited by Quannon
Nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety nine angels hollered until the walls quaked, feet pounding the floor until fine dust escaped from a dislodged pillar; one angel clenched his fists by his sides and prayed for his flaming sword to be returned post haste. Edited by Quannon
Crowley was in buzzword hell, which was a lot like your run of the mill underworld but with a lot more references to synergy and time boxing. Edited by Quannon
It was the most exquisite torment, to be so close but have to turn away as if he was just another angel, just another enemy. Edited by Quannon
“That’s not very angelic, Aziraphale.” The voice was smooth like glass, or a knife’s edge. Edited by Quannon
Crowley. The one constant in his life, like a shadow tip-toeing next to him throughout eternity, only with better cheekbones and narrower hips and those pointed canines that looked both treacherous and enticing when you got close enough and… Aziraphale shook his head, that wasn’t helping at all. Edited by AmbassadorInara
A hangover was something of a rebirth, Crowley had always thought. Blank stretches of lost memories from the night before always lent themselves well to new beginnings. Edited by AmbassadorInara
“It’s always been dangerous,” Aziraphale said, his eyes trained on the ceiling. Folded across his stomach, his hands were trembling. “You’ve always been dangerous.” Edited by AmbassadorInara
“Good evening, sirs. Been a funny old day, hasn’t it? One minute you’re staring down Satan and the next it’s off to… Crowley, where are we off to?” Edited by AmbassadorInara
Aziraphale didn’t need to see the sharp planes of his face, the shock of red hair. He felt him. Content warning: 9/11 memorial. Edited by AmbassadorInara
“Love what you’ve done with the place. Urban jungle, I think they call it.” Edited by AmbassadorInara
“You can’t kill them like this, Crowley. Cursing them for who they love? I won’t let you.” Edited by AmbassadorInara
It had been six thousand years, give or take, Aziraphale had stopped keeping count, it didn’t seem to matter now. Six thousand years he had wandered the Earth and he had taken in almost every sight, every sound, every taste. He had seen humans’ greatest evils and witnessed their truest joys, and yet it was still this fallen angel who taught him more than any other. If he had learned two things in the past six millennia it was that nobody was ever truly fallen, and those with the whitest wings could conceal the blackest souls. * An angel and a demon have been playing a six thousand year long game of the words not said. It’s funny, though, the truths that saving the world can unveil. With heaven announcing its plans to make up for Armageddon and with hell closing in, what will be the cost of protecting what they’ve found in each other? Edited by AmbassadorInara