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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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    31 Aug 2019

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    Because they can’t see each other more than once every few decades, Aziraphale suggests that he and Crowley write to each other to pass the time apart. As quills for their letters, they exchange wing feathers: a gesture of great intimacy that Crowley is convinced only he perceives the depth of. But time will tell that it’s not just him who sees it that way.

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    23 Aug 2019

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    "All right, I know I'm going to regret asking this," Aziraphale says. "What exactly does this wager entail?"

    Crowley grins like the cat that not only got the cream but has absconded with the entire cow. He grabs the bottle and swigs straight from it despite Aziraphale's tut of disapproval.

    "The pot goes to whichever demon can get an angel into bed by the end of the evening."

    AKA The Fic That Tumblr Made Me Write. Heaven and Hell share a corporate party once per millennium. This time someone's had the bright idea of issuing a challenge to the demons of Hell. Crowley has no intention of missing the opportunity; Aziraphale's just enough of a bastard to make him work for it.

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    19 Aug 2019

  4. Public Bookmark 82

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    Crowley tries to thwart Her ineffable bloody plan by saving some of the children during the flood. Aziraphale finds him and the stowaways. A 'fight' ensues but ends with Crowley helping Aziraphale on his next mission.

    Crawly is stifling a laugh as he braids one of the girl’s hair. “Like a pigeon, but white.” He offers.
    “Oh,” says the boy. “My uncle got shat on by a pigeon once.”
    “Well, I don’t need to do that,” Aziraphale says primly, “Just fly. Find land. And bring a sign of it back to Noah.”
    “Noah didn’t want us.” Says the girl standing in front of Crawly as he works on her hair. “Maybe you should shat on him too.”

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    14 Aug 2019

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    "In plain terms, Mr. A. Fell was a man of impeccable conduct and unusual habits, and in a similar manner to many of whom bore the first two traits, he must also take up the third: dire loneliness. Yet it had not always been thus. Indeed, there once was a time when it seemed as if he should never know solitude or want of suitable company for the rest of his days, but the circumstances by which Aziraphale might have unwound the knot that now bound up his heart had long since dragged themselves, mortally wounded, to die in the shades of regret. Their ghosts hung in his past, growing in consequence with the singular passing of each year until they eclipsed even the death of those who had the foremost hand in their making, and had the effect of separating the sequence of his days of into a gentle, blooming Before, whose painful beauty made the egregious scars of the After that much more appalling."

     

    What Aziraphale does not know is that, from across the ocean, Mr. Anthony J. Crowley is returning to England with his newly aquired wealth, wanting nothing more than to rebuild his life after a terrible shock and, perhaps, discover why he had been abandoned by his fiancé ten long years ago.

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    13 Aug 2019