song_of_fate



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  1. Rec 1

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    “The part,” Fish said with a nervous itch in his voice, “where they said--  The part where they’re all saying--  Doc,” he leaned forward into the table, closing the gap between them like it was possible to keep a secret in a public place, “did you really sleep with Bobo?”

    “I do not believe that is an appropriate question to ask a man.”

    Disbelief had a way of hanging on a man’s jaw, but disgust was always brightest in the eyes.  That was a funny look for a creature of hell to be aiming at him.  “You did,” Fish whispered.  “I never would have thought.”

    “Fish,” Doc said.  He was not in the mood to waste his time discussing his sexual adventures.  He would never be in the mood to justify himself to any one that had been to hell and come back again, it didn’t matter how pretty his eyelashes were.  

    “Doc, you’ve got to know what they’re saying.  They all know that you’re Bobo’s...” Fish stuttered on a word he didn’t like saying, “well, that’s it.  You belong to Bobo now and nobody is supposed to lay a finger on you.”

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    10,612
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    19 Feb 2020

  2. Rec 1

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    Bobo had been behaving himself like the rules on the door described. His hands had been resting on the sticky vinyl seats since Tiffany crawled into his lap. But he stretched his body out beneath her, smiling across her shimmering shoulder at Doc’s insufferably furious face. He crossed his arms behind his head just to see how it made the man twitch. “After I was such a gentleman to you,” he said.

    “We have a very different recollection of events if you are qualifying any of your behavior as gentlemanly.”

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    Language:
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    Words:
    10,284
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Comments:
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    13 Feb 2020

  3. Rec 20

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    It was clearly a punishment from Below, Crowley’s assignment to sail to the colonies and pepper-in a little last minute unrest to a rapidly self-domesticating Wild West. What were the odds, then, that Aziraphale would also turn up? Further still, that he would be quite invested in the relative morality of the same outlaw Crowley was meant to be tempting?

    It’s 1899. 37 years ago, Aziraphale threw a right fit over one measly request in St. James Park and they haven’t spoken since. It was probably time for a chat.

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    English
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    39
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    100
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    20
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    13 Feb 2020

  4. Rec 1

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    “What’s wrong, Doc? You don’t like those words? I’ve got more. Tell me which ones you like better…”

    “Shut up,” Doc hissed at him.

    There was a perfectly good door to the side. Doc wasn’t much for retreat but there was always value to escaping with your life. This wasn’t a matter of life or death but a question of honor. What sort of honor did a man have when he’d dragged a man to eternal torture not even a full twenty four hours ago? What did it matter what he gave up to get what he wanted when it was still his decision to give it up?

    (And wasn’t that just like this dramatic bastard, smirking at him from two feet away, to make it as impossible as it could be to give in.)

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    9
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    10 Feb 2020

  5. Rec 53

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    Crowley stretched his long legs over the arm of the couch, crossing his feet at the ankles. All things considered, he liked feet. You could do so many useful things with them. Wear high heels, for one. Run very fast. Both at the same time if you were particularly talented, or if you cheated. People took feet for granted.

    Of course, most people had never experienced alternatives, but that was their own problem.

    * * *

    Crowley and Aziraphale after the UnApocalypse, trying to figure out what to do with themselves now that the world has astonishingly failed to end.

    Language:
    English
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    07 Feb 2020

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