wingedwords



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    It is commonly thought that when Lucifer and his followers were cast out of heaven, that this was rather the end of the whole thing, and everyone could get back to what they were supposed to be doing, such as praying, rejoicing in the glory of the Almighty, guarding trees, and so forth.

    But in actuality, although it doesn’t appear in the Bible, and has, by all accounts, been rather hushed up by all parties concerned, there was one more angel who fell from grace. Not for his part in the Great Rebellion (violence, on the whole, made him feel slightly queasy, and he’d managed to be somewhere else on the day itself), but for his flagrant disobedience in following one of Her earliest commands.

    In short, he gave away a sword.

    *****

    An AU Good Omens story where Aziraphale fell and Crowley did not.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    32,616
    Chapters:
    6/7
    Comments:
    210
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    609
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    20 Nov 2019

  2. Public Bookmark 61

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    After the Not-Quite-End-of-the-World, the very definite end of Aziraphale and Crowley is right around the metaphorical corner. There's a little time for things that should be said. If Aziraphale can persuade Crowley to stop pining long enough to say them.

     

    “I meant that given our situation is dire, do you have anything you wanted to say to me? Anything at all? Last words, last thoughts, anything that you might want to get off your chest, so to speak?”

    “Angels are bastards.”

    Oh light of my life, companion of my heart, I simply cannot believe you think that I’m the dense one. Aziraphale managed not to say the words out loud but thought them, very loudly, in Crowley’s general direction. It didn’t make any difference of course, but it made him feel a little better. “Ahem.”

    “Present company excepted, of course.”

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    2,275
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Comments:
    29
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    418
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    61
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    19 Nov 2019

  3. Public Bookmark 20

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    Fraternizing.

    The word was acid on his tongue when he went to sleep in 1862, and it's still burning there when he wakes up in 1912. It's burning as he throws off the black sheets and down comforter, which has spectacularly failed to live up to its name, which is fine because he doesn't want comforting. He wants to bite things.

    Fraternizing.

    Crowley miracles himself up a new set of clothes, not caring if they're fifty years out of date or not, and stumbles out of his flat in search of information and alcohol, not necessarily in that order.


    Or, what Crowley does during those eighty years.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    2,914
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Comments:
    14
    Kudos:
    116
    Bookmarks:
    20
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    521

    09 Nov 2019

  4. Public Bookmark 16

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    “It is occurring to me that there is a lot we don’t know about each other still,” he begins, his words carefully chosen. “We should probably make it a point to learn more.”

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    Language:
    English
    Words:
    2,930
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Comments:
    44
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    279
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    16
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    1255

    09 Nov 2019

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    Crowley had waited six thousand years, kept it all in check. But this was the slipperiest slope he’d ever set foot on and as soon as he’d indulged in a few discretionary acts of kindness he was falling face first into pining, tumbling into flirting, about to dislocate his knees on the sharp rocks of intimacy.

    Was this really it? What he had waited six thousand years for? A stupid flower show? Aziraphale wasn’t pulling away from him. Maybe… maybe this time he wouldn’t? Maybe they’d hold hands again. Maybe tonight with a bottle of merlot in them he’d finally work up the courage and just kiss him and he wouldn’t pull away.

    The very moment he’d thought it he spotted the problem at the flower show.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    46,188
    Chapters:
    10/10
    Collections:
    2
    Comments:
    321
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    673
    Bookmarks:
    198
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    6408

    31 Oct 2019