Jackfruit



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    “We have the forms, of course,” Gabriel sighs, rooting through his desk. “Haven’t had a reason to use them before, so they’re a bit covered in old dark matter, but—here we go.” He turns, and hands Aziraphale a stack of tan folders. “The non-disclosure agreement, the declaration of conflict of interest, all the relevant training modules for compliance, and more.”
    Aziraphale just stares.
    “What,” Gabriel says. “We’re a civilized, corporate organization. Did you assume we’d burn you in hellfire?”
    “A smidgen?”
    Gabriel laughs, claps him on the shoulder. “We’re going to do something much worse. The paperwork alone will take you centuries.”
    In which heaven is excessively corporate, and Aziraphale is trying to figure out how to explain to his one-sided crush that he needs Crowley’s signature on forms stating that they’re dating. Nothing stays the same.

    Language:
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    1/1
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    14 Dec 2019

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    The year was 1926. Anthony J. Crowley and his wife were in need of a tutor for their young son Adam. Dozens applied for the job, but only one stuck out above the rest - a kind bookshop owner from Soho. It was impossible for Anthony to know during their first meeting how much of an impact Ezra Fell would have on his family or, more importantly, how much of an impact Ezra would have on his heart. He wasn’t certain of much anymore, but one thing was for sure, Crowley knew he would never be the same again.

    Language:
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    Chapters:
    39/39
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    07 Dec 2019

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    Crowley has never seen the name on Aziraphale's chest. He doesn't know the syllables of it, the shape of the transliterated letters. It doesn't matter. He'd gotten quite drunk once, sometime in the fourteenth century, and asked Aziraphale point-blank if his name was there.

    It was not.

    (He doesn't think about Aziraphale's name on his own chest, growing darker every year.)

    Language:
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    Chapters:
    14/14
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    22 Nov 2019

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    The thing sweeps its scythe and straightens. It must sense eyes on it, because it turns it’s head and looks right at Svlad.
    It is a skull’s face, grinning and bleached. Svlad stares.
    It tilts it’s head, like it’s watching a particularly fascinating documentary, or a cat attempting to catch a laser pointer created dot.
    AH, it says. It’s mouth doesn’t move, but Svlad hears it’s voice all the same, resonating deep and forever. INTERESTING.

    A story of Death and the boy who could see him, through the years.

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    12 Nov 2019

  5. Public Bookmark 78

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    As the one-year mark of the Unpocalypse approaches, Aziraphale pointedly mentions to Crowley that he'd like to spend the anniversary doing "something lovely" with "somebody special". Thus, Crowley secretly plans a surprise picnic in Tadfield with Anathema and the Them. Of course, this comes served with a plateful of misunderstandings, a side of moping, and a seasoning of mischief... eventually followed by a deliciously pleasant afternoon.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    16,269
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Comments:
    34
    Kudos:
    385
    Bookmarks:
    78

    27 Oct 2019