adiosZombie



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  1. Public Bookmark 52

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    Written for the Trickety-Boo Event prompt by OldBeginningNewEnding: "Aziraphale is a skeptic in all things supernatural. His (demon) boyfriend Crowley prefers it that way. If only the meddling witch would stop trying to expose him and the rest of the supernatural forces."

    Rated T for mild naughtiness. Spookiness Level 1 (very little spookiness, nothing actually scary)
    CW: brief appearance of a helpful spider

    Thank you so much to Euterpein for hosting this amazing event!!

    Edit: you guys, the wonderful GoodOmensFicRecommendations made a book cover for this fic! <3 Look for it below!

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    23 Oct 2020

  2. Public Bookmark 7

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    A few universes over, the war in Heaven never stopped- it just got a new theater.

    The angels and the demons turned Earth into a battlefield, and Crowley goes spying for Hell behind enemy lines as a camp follower. He doesn't expect to find himself under the protection of a nervous lieutenant named Aziraphale.

    He doesn't expect a lot of things.

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    06 Oct 2020

  3. Public Bookmark 5

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    Fire, it turns out, is complicated. Crowley's relationship to it post-bookshop could take decades for a psychiatrist to unpick. Or he could just light some things on fire with Aziraphale at his side. That would work too.

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    06 Oct 2020

  4. Public Bookmark 9

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    Aziraphale wished he could find it in him to relish the lack of mockery and passive aggressive putdowns, but well... it didn’t feel very sporting at the moment. Given what he was about to do.

    “Just pull them out,” Gabriel said. “Don’t miss a single one. You know the drill.”

    Fisting his hand in the first clump of tertiaries, Aziraphale braced his other hand between Gabriel’s shoulder blades and ripped out the feathers.

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    04 Oct 2020

  5. Public Bookmark 27

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    With his eyes downcast, he feels before he sees the point of a sword coming to rest beneath his chin. The blade lifts his head, forces his gaze up to Aziraphale’s face, but the motion is surprisingly gentle, like a lover’s caress, and Crowley’s breath catches. Aziraphale is above him, calm and unruffled and the victor. Crowley is practically helpless here, bound and on his knees, human corporation reminding him of its frailty, the loser with his throat bared. But there’s something in Aziraphale’s eyes that makes the tension in Crowley’s shoulders unwind.

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    30 Sep 2020