PART 1&2/?

PART 1&2/?

Angsty ficlet #💎🌱🌷

Situation: crowley and aziraphale have been drinking, aziraphale yet agains mentions crowley's nature and his " incapacity to love ".

"Why do you look so offended, my dear?" Asked aziraphale breaking the silent.

"Offended, offended? Yeah I guess you can called it that." Snaped crowley

The confused look on aziraphale's face, was the final push down the slide.

"I mean it's not like you have been treating me like I am always here to personally attack you or it's not like you have been putting every fucking problem of this earth on my back just because I happen to be there, and yeah I know I know that what demons do but I was expecting you to understand after a bit... or when you keeped telling every soul that we meet that we aren't friends" crowley's voice began to crack, but he didn't care anymore.

His glasses were giving him enough protection to hide the pain in his eyes and the litteral pain caused by the liquid that had started to gatter up in his eyes.

" but the worst the worst is that even after everything, the 6000 years, the armageddon and the trial.. you still think I don't-"

his eyes really burned and he had to closed them, make the red liquid run out of his eyes onto his cheecks.

" that I don't care, that I don't cherish you, that I don't love you " he shouted, the blood had reached his jaw and dripped on the floor.

Aziraphale look mortified, he couldn't know if it was because of the blood or his words.

" I never meant to fall, I never meant to be a demon " crowley rubbed off the blood off his face and stand straight.

he started to walk to the door, as he was about to pass it, he stopped and hoped

But nothing happened, the demon disappeared in a sob.

Aziraphale had forgotten to breath.

Tear were running down his face, he couldn't think. This was to much. He remembered every interaction he had with crowley.

The demon had always been there for him .The angel couldn't believe his eyes, crowley had taking out his heart so many times and every time aziraphale had stepped on it like it was nothing. He had pushed him away so many times, that had been the final one....

Should I continue this?

Okay I did, here is part 2

choir of cicadas

…

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The battle after Armageddon - part 6

Whatever happens, for good or for evil, we are beside you.

This has been great fun, making a short story about the End of the World. What Aziraphale say to Adam, and what he always know about God, is that fate has a funny way of putting people/angel/demon in situations no one wished for, but in the end wouldn't wish for it to be any other way.

Part 5

Nekocat

Nekocat

The battle after Armageddon - part 5 I thought I'd never be able to see you again, my dear P/s: this was supposed to be two chapters, but i'

An Ineffable Plan, Part 3

What if God had a corporate form? What if God had been more easily accessible during the Almost Apocalypse? What if Aziraphale and Crowley had a direct line to The Almighty?

Well, buckle up kiddos, we’re about to find out.

Just a fun bit of fanfiction for my own amusement. Don’t know how many parts there’ll be. Can be found under the tag #an ineffable plan

Word Count: 1,045

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4, Part 5

“You know this sort of… it isn’t really my scene.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Shit,” Crowley muttered yet again as he drove through the dark, eerie night, the Antichrist crying bloody murder in the back seat. His instructions were not only worrying and indicative of an incoming apocalypse, but they were also complicated. Crowley loathed complicated things, things taking longer than necessary, jobs that took longer than two minutes to carry out. His hand twitched against the steering wheel. He very rarely missed Heaven, with its sterile white walls and sterile, stuffy angels, but right now he was feeling a tad nostalgic. He was desperate to pass the buck to someone else, anyone else.

More than anything, it occurred to him as he revved the engine unnecessarily, he missed the self-assurance that came with being an angel. He missed the certainty that he was in the right. He missed the safety of knowing that you were loved by The Benevolent God.

Lucifer was many things, but he was not exactly loving.

Oh Lord, he prayed silently, an old habit that Ligur and Hastur surely would have strung him up for had they known about. Oh Lord, if you’re listening, send me a sign.

This tactic used to get The Almighty’s attention almost every time, though for the last few centuries She appeared to have been ignoring his calls. It was for this reason that he wasn’t expecting Her to materialise in his passenger seat, and why, when he saw Her, he swore at a volume he wasn’t aware he could achieve and almost crashed the car into a nearby tree.

“Jesus Christ!” he screamed, slamming on the brakes. Thankfully, as it was the dead of night, the roads were exceptionally empty, otherwise he might have been discorporated. The Almighty raised an eyebrow.

“Going back to our roots, I see.”

Crowley shot Her a withering look – a bold move for a demon, even if he was a rather high-ranking one these days. “What are you doing in my car?! What do you want, exactly?!”

She hadn’t looked at him yet – instead She was looking out at the road ahead of them – or perhaps, beyond it, to some great abyss that even the demon Crowley couldn’t see.

“Well, you told me to send you a sign.”

He couldn’t fault Her logic there, though he resented it mightily. She still wasn’t looking at him. Well, he thought, two can play at that game. He too stared resolutely out into the night, but not before he got a good look at Her. It was comforting to see Her again, despite not being able to remember what She looked like as soon as he turned away, and to know that She hadn’t changed in thousands of years. The same dark hair and silver eyes, though she was now dressed to suit current fashions – white jeans and a white jumper, with white pumps. She practically glowed in the shadowy interior of the Bentley.

Whatever happened, he wasn’t going to speak first. No, he wouldn’t break the silence. She had invaded his car after all, why should he –

“Why have you been ignoring me?”

Damn it, Crowley.

She was definitely facing him now. It was a cool gaze, not at all like the ones She used to shower him with in earlier days, full of indulgence.

“I come when I am needed and when the request is sincere,” She said sharply, Her eyes like flint. “I am not, however, a cure-all to all your many, pithy problems, Raphael.”

He hissed at the word and sunk lower into his chair in petulance. “My name is Crowley.”

“You have no name,” She thundered. It was so unexpected and so loud that the Antichrist, who had been consistently howling in the back seat, fell to a meek silence. Flames danced were her irises should have been. “You surrendered your name when you betrayed my trust, and I will not let your Fallen name touch my tongue. You are lucky I refer to you at all.”

The demon was sufficiently cowed. He had forgotten what it felt like to feel even a smidgen of The Almighty’s wrath, and it had quite stolen the wind from his sails. It felt a bit like when your favourite teacher gave you a detention – indignation mixed with betrayal and a dash of guilt.

In a way, she was right, which, Crowley supposed, is what irritated him the most. He had always hated ‘Crawley’ (so on the nose), the name that Lucifer had ascribed to him. But he had changed it, added his own spin to it, and now it felt right. Raphael certainly didn’t – he had indeed been Raphael once, but he was not that person anymore. One only had to look at his wings to see that. Or his eyes, for that matter.

“Now,” She said calmly, as though Her little outburst had never happened, “what is it that you wanted to say?”

Crowley wasn’t sure he wanted to say anything anymore, he was so shaken, but he crossed his arms and managed to force out, “It won’t really happen, will it? The end of the world?”

She eyed him from across the car. She could have been carved out of marble. “What do you care? Surely, as a demon, destruction is what you desire?”

He squirmed at the question. “That’s not why I became a demon.”

“Oh? So why did you?”

You know why, he thought angrily, You’re bloody omniscient.

The lull in conversation dragged on. The Antichrist was quiet. This was unusual, so Crowley leaned over to check on him – it transpired that he had fallen asleep.

“How can I stop it?” he asked softly. He felt suddenly very small, very tired, and very ill-equipped to deal with the cards that She had dealt him. He turned to face Her, and it appeared She could sense this. She was looking at him in the same way She used to, back when he had been Her trusted archangel. He couldn’t bare it, and returned to watching the Antichrist’s tiny chest rise and fall.

“One thing is for sure,” She replied eventually. He didn’t need to see it to know that She was dematerialising as She spoke. “You can’t do it alone.”