Rogue_Bard

@rogue-bard.bsky.social

348 Followers 221 Following

Writer in the clutches of Good Omens fanfiction. And sometimes I draw stuff. Indy 🐍 they/them đŸ’œđŸ€đŸ©¶đŸ–€ My ao3-handles are The_Rogue_Bard and Rogue_Bardic_Inspiration: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Rogue_Bard

A screenshot from the game Undertale. The protagonist is standing in front of a mirror in a monochrome hallway. The only things in colour are a pair of golden flowers in a vase next to them, and the protagonist themself and their mirror-image. Below, there is a dialog box that says: "* Despite everything, it's still you."
It's me in a Crowley costume from series 1. I have short, ginger hair styled up- and forwards, a black blazer with a red collar, a net-scarf and a heavy chain for a necklace.
A digital painting of Aziraphale and Crowley as a little more female-presenting than most times: Aziraphale has their blonde hair in a messy topknot; their bowtie is a bow/ribbon and they're wearing a cream-coloured knit-pullover over a light-blue blouse; paired with a brown pleated skirt and lighter brown tights and bright-brown/orange pumps. Crowley has open, long, curly, ginger hair, is wearing the usual sunglasses, scarf and snake-tattoo. The usual blazer is gone in favour of a black leather jacket over a aubergine-coloured blouse that has the first few buttons unbuttoned. Their normal snake-headed-belt is still in place, together with the usual tight, black trousers. For shoes, Crowley is wearing high-heeled half-boots. Crowley has their hands in their pockets and is looking on seemingly impassively behind the sunglasses while Aziraphale is holding two books clutched to their chest and is staring at Crowley's face with a smitten look. The background is mostly blue water colour, except for a pinkish watercolour heart between their faces, which is the lightsource in the picture and makes their backs shadowed while the sides of them that are turned towards each other are highlighted.
A photograph of an old-timey brick-tower in the midst of blossoming cherry trees. At the top, the tower has two alcoves with small windows. The tree branches are laden with snow. Over everything, it says "The Fairest Demon in All the Land; an Aziraphale/Crowley fanfic; Good Omens" at the top, and at the bottom in smaller font: "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."
A photo of 15 crochet frogs on a display, each themed after a different Trouble Brewing Character: The Chef frog has a felt chef-hat and is holding a wooden spoon. The Slayer frog is holding a crossbow made of blue pipecleaner. The Virgin frog is holding two linked silver rings, one of which has a blue bead as a a stone. On its head, it is wearing a felt daisy. The Undertaker frog is holding a metal shovel. The Empath frog is holding a big, blue heart made of pipecleaners. The Fortune Teller frog is holding a large, round, glittery, blue bead like a crystal ball. The Washerwoman frog is holding a clothes line with a pair of felt jeans and a white T-shirt made of felt on it. The Butler frog is wearing a little black tie. In one hand, it is holding a crocheted plate or round tray, and on the other arm, it is carrying a folded white towel made of felt. The Drunk frog is holding a plastic beer glass full of beer. The Recluse frog is wearing a brown felt coat and is holding a lantern made out of pipe cleaners. The Saint frog has two little, white wings made of felt. The Scarlet Woman frog has big, red lips and is holding a wooden knife behind her back. The Imp frog has red horns and is holding a red trident made out of pipe cleaners. The Baron frog is wearing a red crochet tophat. The Spy frog is holding a red felt mask on a wooden stick.
A picture of Aziraphale. He is crudely outlined with heavy black strokes and coloured in with blotchy paint. Above him is a heading that reads "Slay the Principality - an interactive fanfic" Underneath, Aziraphale has a speech-bubble that says "Please don't."
A photo of a telly running Deltarune chapter 5. Kris is talking to Ralsei in front of a puzzle, but instead of advice, Ralsei just says "*". In front of the telly is a Ralsei plush right next to Ralsei's avatar on screen.
A screenshot of a summary on ao3: All of Eden’s Creatures by The_Rogue_Bard Summary: Aziraphale watches over the humans. Crowley watches Aziraphale. And so it goes for years, decades, centuries, millennia. Until one day, they disavow their opposite sides and finally break free from their duties. Crowley watches Aziraphale. And Aziraphale doesn’t need to watch over the humans anymore.
Sandwich: Mornin’ fellas. I had a real rough one so why don’t you make me a nice, hot, venti lactose-free double-cappuccino with decaf arabica beans and organic sugar, two shots of caramel syrup, one of crĂšme brĂ»lĂ©e, no cream but chocolate chips and one of your special little latte art swans on top? A person with a clearly evil frog on their head laughs. Evilly of course. Unhelpful Frog-Fan: We only serve death. Sandwich: Yah, well, I’m the customer, and I prefer coffee. Another man – younger than the first – who is wearing too much eyeliner and has his hair styled into two tall horns, steps forward. Horn-Man: We’re here from Hell. Sandwich: Yeah, tell me about it, kid. That’s why I need my caffeine. And make it extra fast, I don’t have all day. Horn-Man: No, I mean- Wait, didn’t you say you wanted decaf? Sandwich: Oh, don’t argue with me about my order, coffee-boy! If I want caffeine in my decaf, you better bloody give it to me. I’m paying for it, after all.
A photograph of a block of wood with a bird pencilled onto it. A carving knife is lying on top of the wood.
Aziraphale, Crowley’s dashing rescuer, was still a little ways away from where the opposing knight had planted himself in front of the tower; if he had noticed the stranger unsheathing his weapon, the angel wasn’t impressed by it. He was wearing his own suit of armour and the sword he had tried to pommel Crowley with (no, he was not letting that go any time soon), was dangling uselessly from his belt. Crowley swooned a little. Aziraphale now arrived at the small brook that cut the forest clearing in half, apparently debating on whether he wanted to endure the indignity of (1/2)
‘The Knight of Cups,’ it read below an armoured man on a horse, holding a cup as if he was reaching to give it to someone just off the picture. Crowley audibly let out the breath he had been holding. “If that means I’m about to be the victim of another attempted clobbery by one more knut in a metal suit, then I didn’t need a childish drawing to tell me that.” Aldith looked at him with a challenging twinkle in her eye. It suited her very well, because Crowley didn’t like that stupid twinkle one bit either. “That’s not what it means,” she said unnecessarily secretively. “If you think I’m about to ask what it means, you overestimate my interest in your little picture collection,” Crowley huffed in exasperation and crossed his arms. “What does it mean?” Aziraphale asked excitedly because he apparently did not know what dignity meant, as soon as there was a set of cards in the same room as him. “It stands for an open invitation. A charming offer,” she said, her eyes steady on Crowley’s, who refused to back down and look away. “A proposal, perhaps.” “What kind of proposal,” he asked and raised his chin in a clear challenge to the woman. “That- uh, I-,” Aziraphale suddenly butted in and grabbed the card off the table. “I hardly think that matters. You will find out in the future, right?”
Crowley abandoned his plan to be extremely interested in the nuts and looked at the nutjob beside him. “Reverse it, how? Tell them ‘Oh, I’m very sorry that I aggravated you enough to hit me over the head with a cudgel’ and they go ‘Oh, that’s alright then, I take back the cudgelling’ and my memories are magically restored?” For some reason, Aziraphale beamed at him for that comment. “Oh hello there, you handsome fellow!” Crowley absolutely did not blush. Or blink at Aziraphale, dumbfounded. Only one confusing second later, the angel was back to his huffy, lecturing self: “Well, we could try at least.” What the Hell was this? A good cop / bad cop one-man-show starring the world’s worst casting for the bad-cop-lead? (Because honestly, it was working.) A weirdly soft part of the nuts in Crowley’s hand brushed his palm; he had no time for inspecting them for mildew right now, though. “Can be backtrack a second? What did you just call-,” he started – but there was a sudden yank on his finger. His head whipped around just in time to see a bushy-tailed, red scoundrel abscond with his hazelnuts. “Hey! What? Muggers! Robbery! Come back down here, you filthy little thief!”
“What happened, Crowley?” “Nothing,” the demon deflected again, as if Aziraphale would just let it go if he denied reality often enough. “This is not nothing, Crowley.” The demon sighed heavily and slumped down the short backrest of his chair. It pushed his foot further up Aziraphale’s lap and the angel patted the attached calf soothingly. “It was me,” Crowley finally admitted. “I did that.” “What?” Aziraphale looked up at him in surprise. “Whatever on earth for?” Crowley shrugged again, turned his head so he could prop it up on a hand – elbow resting on the backrest of his chair – and look at a shelf full of books on the wall that were all missing several pages, ripped out by a demon for no good reason. “Didn’t like what they were.” Aziraphale furrowed his brows. “What do you mean?” Another shrug. He had the feeling he was going to get a lot of these today. And he had come to decipher them as a way for Crowley to say something that is a big deal without admitting it. “There was
 stuff on there.” “Your scales,” Aziraphale filled in the gap Crowley had intentionally left. The demon kept staring at the bookshelf with an expression schooled in disinterest. “You picked your beautiful scales off your poor feet! Whatever for, Crowley?” He vaguely realised that he was absentmindedly soothing over the arch of Crowley’s foot with a thumb.
A tumblr post that reads: "Why the hell is this in my drafts since Nov 2023???" And underneath is written: "Have you met the heartless devil of Soho? / He kept it when he fell / he saved it all the way through hell / until it shattered on Aziraphale".