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crack_van2010-08-26 07:45 pm
laceymcbain.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2010-08-26 07:45 pm
Entry tags:
The Internal Rhyme Series by Vulgarweed / Illustrated by Quantum_Witch (NC-17)
Fandom: GOOD OMENS
Pairing: Aziraphale/Crowley
Length: ~ 30,000+ words
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
vulgarweed / quantum_witch / ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
switchythings community for joint illustrated work
Author Website: Vulgarweed's AO3 page / Quantum_Witch's AO3 page
Why this must be read: Okay, I'm going to take a few liberties with this rec because Good Omens is a unique fandom in many ways: it has an incredible amount of talent in both art and fiction, it has a relatively small amount of epic and/or smutty fic, and it does historical fic like nobody's business.
Case in point is this series written by Vulgarweed and illustrated by Quantum_Witch. It's Epic (and the series might not be "technically" complete, but each of the three stories so far is definitely able to be read on its own). It spans centuries. It has a fantastic friendship. It has arguments. Hurt/comfort. Romance. Lust. Jealousy. Historical figures. Shakespeare. Wings! Codpieces! Swords!
I've read this twice all the way through, and I still feel like there are so many subtleties that I'm probably missing. Historical details. Character nuances. This is the kind of story you want to take up residence in for a good long time. It makes you want to be smarter. And it really makes you want to know every detail of those 6000 years--the good, the bad, and everything in between.
The illustrations add a whole other dimension to the story. They bring to life the passion, the fashion, the passage of history. You can see how much both writer and illustrator love these characters; it's in every word and every line drawn. Go and read, and encourage them both to keep doing what they're so obviously good at!
Crowley took two beaten-bronze goblets from a cabinet and filled them with a rich garnet-coloured wine. The scent of it went straight to Aziraphale’s head and made it feel a little bit clearer, which had to be sheer illusion.
“Let’s try this again,” Crowley said, sitting down on the edge of the bed and handing the angel one of the cups with the rather sadistic nannyish air of one not to be denied when doing something for someone else’s own good. There was also an air of determination to be noticed while graciously ignoring someone else’s impressive burst of bad manners. “You’re angry at me for what, exactly?”
Aziraphale took the cup sullenly. “Taking advantage of my weakened condition. Keeping me here in your…lair…while I should have been out doing things…there is so much to do…I could really get in trouble if…”
Crowley stared at him for a moment and then slugged back his wine so hard a red trickle escaped from the corner of his mouth, which his tongue quickly caught before tearing into a spirited bit of lashing.
“Just what did you think you were going to be doing in the state you were in? You couldn’t have thwarted a horsefly. Look, I could get in trouble for keeping you out of trouble. I’m sure it’d go over real well Upstairs when you showed up leaving your ragged manky carcass lying around like a sack of rocks and trying to find a space in the forms to explain how you discorporated yourself out of neglect!”
“I really don’t think it’s possible to—“
“Were you determined to be the first to find out?”
Aziraphale stewed on that while Crowley stood up and stormed back towards the door, where he picked up a large package and unwrapped it. “Oh, and look, I’m not done,” he said ruefully, tossing a snarl of heavy silk in Aziraphale’s direction. Blues, mostly: peacock and sky and lapis and periwinkle; also cream and very pale pink and dove-grey and rain-cloud and iridescent silver. “I know you like them bought for real, not just wished up. Really, I was honest. Didn’t even haggle much. Oh, don’t rush to thank me. I always want to rip your clothes off and burn them, but this time I had to. I enjoyed it.”
Read: Internal Rhyme Series
Stories in order: Amid the Sacred Wreck
Breathless Mouths May Summon
The Phoenix and the Turtle (A Metaphysical Romance)
Pairing: Aziraphale/Crowley
Length: ~ 30,000+ words
Author on LJ:
vulgarweed / quantum_witch / switchythings community for joint illustrated workAuthor Website: Vulgarweed's AO3 page / Quantum_Witch's AO3 page
Why this must be read: Okay, I'm going to take a few liberties with this rec because Good Omens is a unique fandom in many ways: it has an incredible amount of talent in both art and fiction, it has a relatively small amount of epic and/or smutty fic, and it does historical fic like nobody's business.
Case in point is this series written by Vulgarweed and illustrated by Quantum_Witch. It's Epic (and the series might not be "technically" complete, but each of the three stories so far is definitely able to be read on its own). It spans centuries. It has a fantastic friendship. It has arguments. Hurt/comfort. Romance. Lust. Jealousy. Historical figures. Shakespeare. Wings! Codpieces! Swords!
I've read this twice all the way through, and I still feel like there are so many subtleties that I'm probably missing. Historical details. Character nuances. This is the kind of story you want to take up residence in for a good long time. It makes you want to be smarter. And it really makes you want to know every detail of those 6000 years--the good, the bad, and everything in between.
The illustrations add a whole other dimension to the story. They bring to life the passion, the fashion, the passage of history. You can see how much both writer and illustrator love these characters; it's in every word and every line drawn. Go and read, and encourage them both to keep doing what they're so obviously good at!
Crowley took two beaten-bronze goblets from a cabinet and filled them with a rich garnet-coloured wine. The scent of it went straight to Aziraphale’s head and made it feel a little bit clearer, which had to be sheer illusion.
“Let’s try this again,” Crowley said, sitting down on the edge of the bed and handing the angel one of the cups with the rather sadistic nannyish air of one not to be denied when doing something for someone else’s own good. There was also an air of determination to be noticed while graciously ignoring someone else’s impressive burst of bad manners. “You’re angry at me for what, exactly?”
Aziraphale took the cup sullenly. “Taking advantage of my weakened condition. Keeping me here in your…lair…while I should have been out doing things…there is so much to do…I could really get in trouble if…”
Crowley stared at him for a moment and then slugged back his wine so hard a red trickle escaped from the corner of his mouth, which his tongue quickly caught before tearing into a spirited bit of lashing.
“Just what did you think you were going to be doing in the state you were in? You couldn’t have thwarted a horsefly. Look, I could get in trouble for keeping you out of trouble. I’m sure it’d go over real well Upstairs when you showed up leaving your ragged manky carcass lying around like a sack of rocks and trying to find a space in the forms to explain how you discorporated yourself out of neglect!”
“I really don’t think it’s possible to—“
“Were you determined to be the first to find out?”
Aziraphale stewed on that while Crowley stood up and stormed back towards the door, where he picked up a large package and unwrapped it. “Oh, and look, I’m not done,” he said ruefully, tossing a snarl of heavy silk in Aziraphale’s direction. Blues, mostly: peacock and sky and lapis and periwinkle; also cream and very pale pink and dove-grey and rain-cloud and iridescent silver. “I know you like them bought for real, not just wished up. Really, I was honest. Didn’t even haggle much. Oh, don’t rush to thank me. I always want to rip your clothes off and burn them, but this time I had to. I enjoyed it.”
Read: Internal Rhyme Series
Stories in order: Amid the Sacred Wreck
Breathless Mouths May Summon
The Phoenix and the Turtle (A Metaphysical Romance)
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