http://goe-mod.livejournal.com/ (
goe-mod.livejournal.com) wrote in
go_exchange2012-12-04 08:49 pm
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A gift for karpfeneis, from your Secret Artist-Writer!
(Did you miss yesterday's gift? Find it here!)
Title: Tipping the Scales
Recipient: karpfeneis
Artist/Author:
sejitsu
Rating: G
Pairing: Aziraphale/Crowley
Creator's Notes: Once I'd done the illustrations, I really wanted to add some extra bits of written story along with it. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to add as much as I'd have liked to, but hopefully this is okay? Maybe I'll turn it into a full fic sometime. Thanks to
irisbleufic for being my lovely beta! <3
Summary: Aziraphale accidentally turns himself into a snake and doesn't know how to change back again. He goes to Crowley for help, who doesn't recognise him but lets the snake stay at his flat anyway and eventually starts talking about Aziraphale.
There is a small pop, the displacement of air, and the world goes dark. Aziraphale blinks. Or doesn’t. He certainly tries to blink, fails, and huffs out an exasperated sigh. It comes out as an exasperated hiss instead.
This turns into a panicked hiss when Aziraphale shifts to find that he is buried under a pile of clothes—probably his.
He can only hope.
Also, he seems to be a snake, so there is that. The only positive thing about this situation is that Crowley is not here to laugh at him. Not that Aziraphale would blame him for doing so.

Aziraphale watches from the couch as Crowley picks up a small houseplant and focuses his intense gaze on it. The leaves are slightly brown at the tips, and they seem to be trembling. Crowley admonishes the plant with a wagging finger.
“Do you want to end up like your friend, then?”
If it’s possible for snakes to laugh, Aziraphale would be doing so right now. If Aziraphale wasn’t a snake, he’d be laughing. Well, possibly. In all honesty, he would probably be back at his bookstore, very busy not being a snake.
In any case, the plant’s leaves seem to stiffen to attention, which, apparently, is what Crowley has been waiting for, because he sets the plant back down again and picks up the mister.
Aziraphale shifts his coils and wishes for a mug of cocoa.

Aziraphale is exhausted. It turns out that being stuck as a snake isn’t exactly easy. Being chased out of handbags and off of buses early in the day certainly doesn’t do anything to help this. He is beginning to despair of ever being able to hold a book again. He draws his coils around himself, shifting until the pillow under him feels right, and sighs, mostly discontent. For one thing, he’s cold.
“Hsss.”
Crowley rolls over to face him and frowns. The absurdity of this entire situation hits Aziraphale for about the hundredth time. Right now, he is a snake, and he is trying to fall asleep on one of Crowley’s ridiculous pillows while Crowley is trying, presumably, to do the same thing. They are both failing.
“This was your idea, not mine. I told you you’d be more comfortable elsewhere. ”
“Hsss.”
It’s true. Crowley had tried in vain to construct some sort of snake bed for him earlier, but Aziraphale, clutching to his last bits of dignity had coiled himself around Crowley’s arm and refused to budge. Right now, Aziraphale is vaguely regretting that decision, because this current situation is painfully awkward.
Hopefully Crowley won’t roll over in his sleep and crush him, Aziraphale thinks, half hysterical. Although it will probably be a miracle if either of them gets any sleep tonight.

Title: Tipping the Scales
Recipient: karpfeneis
Artist/Author:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Rating: G
Pairing: Aziraphale/Crowley
Creator's Notes: Once I'd done the illustrations, I really wanted to add some extra bits of written story along with it. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to add as much as I'd have liked to, but hopefully this is okay? Maybe I'll turn it into a full fic sometime. Thanks to
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Summary: Aziraphale accidentally turns himself into a snake and doesn't know how to change back again. He goes to Crowley for help, who doesn't recognise him but lets the snake stay at his flat anyway and eventually starts talking about Aziraphale.
There is a small pop, the displacement of air, and the world goes dark. Aziraphale blinks. Or doesn’t. He certainly tries to blink, fails, and huffs out an exasperated sigh. It comes out as an exasperated hiss instead.
This turns into a panicked hiss when Aziraphale shifts to find that he is buried under a pile of clothes—probably his.
He can only hope.
Also, he seems to be a snake, so there is that. The only positive thing about this situation is that Crowley is not here to laugh at him. Not that Aziraphale would blame him for doing so.

Aziraphale watches from the couch as Crowley picks up a small houseplant and focuses his intense gaze on it. The leaves are slightly brown at the tips, and they seem to be trembling. Crowley admonishes the plant with a wagging finger.
“Do you want to end up like your friend, then?”
If it’s possible for snakes to laugh, Aziraphale would be doing so right now. If Aziraphale wasn’t a snake, he’d be laughing. Well, possibly. In all honesty, he would probably be back at his bookstore, very busy not being a snake.
In any case, the plant’s leaves seem to stiffen to attention, which, apparently, is what Crowley has been waiting for, because he sets the plant back down again and picks up the mister.
Aziraphale shifts his coils and wishes for a mug of cocoa.

Aziraphale is exhausted. It turns out that being stuck as a snake isn’t exactly easy. Being chased out of handbags and off of buses early in the day certainly doesn’t do anything to help this. He is beginning to despair of ever being able to hold a book again. He draws his coils around himself, shifting until the pillow under him feels right, and sighs, mostly discontent. For one thing, he’s cold.
“Hsss.”
Crowley rolls over to face him and frowns. The absurdity of this entire situation hits Aziraphale for about the hundredth time. Right now, he is a snake, and he is trying to fall asleep on one of Crowley’s ridiculous pillows while Crowley is trying, presumably, to do the same thing. They are both failing.
“This was your idea, not mine. I told you you’d be more comfortable elsewhere. ”
“Hsss.”
It’s true. Crowley had tried in vain to construct some sort of snake bed for him earlier, but Aziraphale, clutching to his last bits of dignity had coiled himself around Crowley’s arm and refused to budge. Right now, Aziraphale is vaguely regretting that decision, because this current situation is painfully awkward.
Hopefully Crowley won’t roll over in his sleep and crush him, Aziraphale thinks, half hysterical. Although it will probably be a miracle if either of them gets any sleep tonight.

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'Crushed by demon' might look better better on a discorporation report than 'accidentally turned myself into a snake and couldn't figure out any other way to turn back than get rid of my corporation entirely, though'. ;)
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Hi, this is Karp, on my old LJ account.
Re: Hi, this is Karp, on my old LJ account.
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(Anonymous) 2012-12-22 03:40 am (UTC)(link)no subject
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