Omega_Hux



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    There’s a battle strategy devised by humans many millennia ago that's designed to overcome an adversary who is particularly well entrenched. Some walls are too tall and thick for a frontal assault, and must instead be bested through sheer dogged stubbornness.

    Crowley and Aziraphale didn’t know it, but they were about to be put under siege.

    Fed up with an angel and a demon who are still avoiding any talk of Feelings, God starts to interfere. When it comes to the ineffable plan, sometimes things need a bit of a push.

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    11 Oct 2019

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    It's never a good idea to let an angel get lonely.

    Or, rather -- when Crowley needs a longer-than-usual nap after the apocalypse that wasn't, Aziraphale ends up getting a pet snake to keep him company in the shop. Upon waking, Crowley is not amused to find he now has competition for his angel's affections. A few feathers get ruffled in the ensuing kerfuffle.

    ——

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    09 Oct 2019

  3. Public Bookmark 34

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    As far as anyone knows, angels can't get pregnant, but the thing about ineffability is that you can never be completely sure.

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    06 Oct 2019

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    Crowley was still as stone beside him. His ears were cherry-red. “So...if we pretend we’re in a relationship, we’ll be safe.”

    “I believe so.”

    “And that would, that would involve, what?” he spoke hesitantly, softly. “Holding your hand, telling you that you mean a lot to me, kissing you for them to see?”

    Two great hands were constricting Aziraphale’s lungs. He fought back an undignified wheeze. “Yes, I think so.”

    “I can do that,” he croaked.
    ~
    In a panic, Aziraphale tells the archangels he survived hellfire due to his soul mixing with Crowley's because they're in a romantic and sexual relationship. They want him to prove it. Cue a fake relationship.

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    05 Oct 2019

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    “Why did you come here?” Aziraphale interrupts. “Why do you keep doing this?” All the saving, he means, all the chasing after Aziraphale he does. It can’t only be that he’s not keen to endure a replacement. That can’t be it, not anymore. He’s going to get himself in trouble, and then it’ll be Aziraphale’s fault.

    Crowley’s mouth shuts with a click. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, reaches for the handle of the fork and taps his fingertips against it before setting his hands in his lap.

    When he speaks, it’s very soft. “Don’t you know?” he asks.

    Aziraphale, unnaccustomed to his heart refusing to translate why it throbs with such haste, shakes his head.

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    03 Oct 2019

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