Gen, with background slash. "Harry stood beside his mother on the outskirts of Hogsmeade, staring up at Hogwarts Castle in trepidation. In almost eleven years of life, Harry had traveled extensively with his mother, so he had seen looming, ancient castles on three continents, but those were Muggle castles. And while Muggle castles were beautiful and inspired a healthy amount of awe, they didn’t defy gravity, or tower quite so high; they weren’t bordered by an emerald-green magical forest, and they weren’t set against the harsh majesty of a Scottish moor.

Lily survived Voldemort's visit to Godric's Hollow, and James died protecting Harry instead. Lily has raised Harry away from wizarding Britain, and how he's almost eleven. Dumbledore has reached out to her to offer Harry a place at Hogwarts, but Lily isn't sure."

Het, slash, and threesome. "Very little of Marian Hawke's life has gone as she expected. Not in Ferelden, not in Kirkwall, and not since her daughter Bethany was born to an uncertain, absent father and an incredibly complicated heritage.

Life as the Herald of Andraste turns out to be a lot worse.

An account of what to do when the ancient Magister you freed and killed turns out to be tearing the world asunder - whilst trying to wrangle a world that thinks you're a gift from the Maker's bride, a three-year-old who sets fire to things when she cries, the aftermath of a war that you started by trying to do the right thing, and two exes that by all accounts you should really hate...but don't."

Slash. "Healer Sirius Black feels like his life is going through the motions. He is still recovering from the tragic death of his best friends four years prior while doing his best to parent their five-year-old son. However, when a new patient's encounter with a mysterious creature leads him to contact a person from his past, his life gets shaken up into one giant beautiful mess that he isn't sure he knows how to handle.

Or,

That magic feeling when you find someone who can see you when you can't even see yourself."

Femslash, het, and slash. "Harry begins his second year at Hogwarts, but under troubled circumstances. Sirius Black, a feared murderer (and the man responsible for his parents' deaths!) has disappeared from Azkaban, someone is trying to keep him from attending Hogwarts, and he continues his studies with Dumbledore. Join Harry on his new journey through the triumphs and tribulations of second year and third year."

Slash. "An assault on a Venatori base turns more complicated than expected, and Dorian and Bull, separated from the group and with Dorian in no position to fight, have to try and hold out until help arrives."

Slash. "As their lunch stretches on Aziraphale slowly comes to realize that Crowley is—enjoying him. Enjoying Aziraphale’s conversation, and company, far more openly than he has in most of Aziraphale’s memory. And Aziraphale knows that he himself is just chattering on, letting conversational tangents carry him along, and—it’s definitely relief, for him, knowing for the first time in a long time that they aren’t being watched, that no one is keeping score for now.

-
Aziraphale realizes that Crowley's been saying something rather loudly for a week."

Slash. "It was approximately three years after the apoca-wasn’t that Crowley fell into a baptismal font.

It was extremely uncool of him to do so, and years afterwards, he would deny that it had happened like that. All right, maybe he still had trouble with the whole owning four limbs thing after all the years of snakehood - still, that didn’t make him clumsy.

But the point remained. Crowley fell into a literal vat of holy water.

And survived."

Slash. “Well...no one will bother you in here, that’s for sure!” Fenton says, in the tone of someone trying to bring levity to an awful situation. He’s not doing a very good job.

Or, Drake hides in a closet on his wedding day. Gizmoduck is there too.

Slash. "Crowley arrives injured at Aziraphale's door. He takes care of him, reads him an awful lot of Mary Oliver, and knits elaborate metaphors for his insecurities (literally)."

Gen. “It is quite beautiful, isn’t it?”, says Aziraphale, and Crowley turns to look at him. The angel is wearing an expression of amazement, and it lights up his face bright as the incandescent magma. “The lava is so fascinating. It almost makes you forget you would burn up if you touched it.”

Crowley looks forward again, and he can feel the heat, and smell the faint scent of ash and brimstone, see the pitch-black rock forged from fire. It evokes a deep, visceral feeling in him, something that he can’t identify but that disturbs him profoundly. It reminds him too much of another place engulfed in flames and the stench of sulphur. Of hellfire.

The closeness to the volcano is starting to make him uneasy; he is struck by the irrational urge to get the angel as far away as possible from the hungry burning river, even though he knows that they are perfectly safe."



Crowley has always disliked seeing Aziraphale get too close to fire.

Het and slash. “I love you,” Launchpad says, and he means it every time.

Slash. "The terrible thing is, nobody even thinks anything’s wrong at first. There’s always a rainy season and a dry season, and the rivers swell and overflow their banks. Some years it’s worse, and people shake their heads and pitch in to rebuild whatever was lost. This time though, the rain doesn’t stop."

Slash. "Crowley had, Aziraphale noticed, sunk further into his seat by increments, but in a way that left him nearly slumped against Aziraphale’s side.

And, oh, neither side would have liked that, at all.

But, then again, what did it matter?"

Slash. "Angel, you never take up new hobbies. Your interests have stayed the same for the past six thousand years, and never, not even once in that time have you considered taking off all your clothes and lying in front of a room of people observing your body a hobby!"

Het and slash. “Fine,” said Sirius calmly. “We’ll live in the garden.”

“What?” said Remus.

“What?” said Petunia.

Vernon did his best impression of a walrus mixed with a tomato.

“You don’t want to raise him,” said Sirius, with the air of describing something to the incredibly dimwitted, “and we sure as hell don’t want you to bloody raise him. But he can’t leave your property; he’s got to call this…” he gestured disdainfully at the living room, “a home until he’s of age. So we’ll live in the back garden.”

Het and slash. "When Harry moves into the damp and empty Black house, it doesn’t quite feel like home. And then the first owl moves in. After that, it’s a steep slope leading to bed-sharing, more owls, assorted housemates, strange potions experiments, and terrible cooking. And a bit of waltzing, too."

Slash. "Why did Aziraphale automatically assume Crowley wanted the holy water to use on himself?"

Slash. "Aziraphale needs help with his wings, though he doesn't want to ask. Crowley helps anyway."

Slash. "After an intense argument, Crowley and Aziraphale go their separate ways for a few decades. Until, that is, Aziraphale finds a way to bridge the gap."

Slash. "Sometimes, Crowley goes too fast. Aziraphale holds him steady, slows him down."