
Little black unlucky kitty is me. I bring badluck for everyone, so be careful when you around me~ đ
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Fic Where Aziraphale Takes Crowleys Glasses Off His Face Without Asking And Crowley Realizes Aziraphale
Fic where Aziraphale takes Crowleyâs glasses off his face without asking and Crowley realizes Aziraphale is a demon in desguise because his angel would never violate his privacy like that
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More Posts from Unluckyblackcat13




Another post about @/peazecatchâs AU (on Instagram) I drew while I was on vacation :)



The battle after Armageddon.
I pray this is not our last good bye, angel
part 2 here https://pinkpiggy93.tumblr.com/post/186860176827/the-battle-after-armageddon-part-2-aziraphale
Part 3Â https://pinkpiggy93.tumblr.com/post/186890580192/the-battle-after-armageddon-part-3-i-know-you
Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

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, weâre about to find out.
Just a fun bit of fanfiction for my own amusement. Donât know how many parts thereâll be. Can be found under the tag #an ineffable plan
Word Count: 1,045
Part 1, Part 2, Part 4, Part 5
âYou know this sort of⌠it isnât really my scene.â
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
âShit,â 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 youâre listening, send me a sign.
This tactic used to get The Almightyâs 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 wasnât expecting Her to materialise in his passenger seat, and why, when he saw Her, he swore at a volume he wasnât aware he could achieve and almost crashed the car into a nearby tree.
âJesus Christ!â 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.
âGoing back to our roots, I see.â
Crowley shot Her a withering look â a bold move for a demon, even if he was a rather high-ranking one these days. âWhat are you doing in my car?! What do you want, exactly?!â
She hadnât looked at him yet â instead She was looking out at the road ahead of them â or perhaps, beyond it, to some great abyss that even the demon Crowley couldnât see.
âWell, you told me to send you a sign.â
He couldnât fault Her logic there, though he resented it mightily. She still wasnât 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 hadnât changed in thousands of years. The same dark hair and silver eyes, though she was now dressed to suit current fashions â white jeans and a white jumper, with white pumps. She practically glowed in the shadowy interior of the Bentley.
Whatever happened, he wasnât going to speak first. No, he wouldnât break the silence. She had invaded his car after all, why should he â
âWhy have you been ignoring me?â
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.
âI come when I am needed and when the request is sincere,â She said sharply, Her eyes like flint. âI am not, however, a cure-all to all your many, pithy problems, Raphael.â
He hissed at the word and sunk lower into his chair in petulance. âMy name is Crowley.â
âYou have no name,â 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. âYou 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.â
The demon was sufficiently cowed. He had forgotten what it felt like to feel even a smidgen of The Almightyâs wrath, and it had quite stolen the wind from his sails. It felt a bit like when your favourite teacher gave you a detention â 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 âCrawleyâ (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 didnât â 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.
âNow,â She said calmly, as though Her little outburst had never happened, âwhat is it that you wanted to say?â
Crowley wasnât sure he wanted to say anything anymore, he was so shaken, but he crossed his arms and managed to force out, âIt wonât really happen, will it? The end of the world?â
She eyed him from across the car. She could have been carved out of marble. âWhat do you care? Surely, as a demon, destruction is what you desire?â
He squirmed at the question. âThatâs not why I became a demon.â
âOh? So why did you?â
You know why, he thought angrily, Youâre bloody omniscient.
The lull in conversation dragged on. The Antichrist was quiet. This was unusual, so Crowley leaned over to check on him â it transpired that he had fallen asleep.
âHow can I stop it?â 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 couldnât bare it, and returned to watching the Antichristâs tiny chest rise and fall.
âOne thing is for sure,â She replied eventually. He didnât need to see it to know that She was dematerialising as She spoke. âYou canât do it alone.â








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

Adopting Warlock this, adopting Adam that. Where's my fic where Crowley delivers the antichrist and then twenty seconds later decides "ok fuck this" and he goes back in to take the kid and run but he finds...two babies. Oh fuck ok looks like he's taking both. He's sure no one will notice if he swaps them with babies from a nearby orphanage- hell doesn't track miracles after all.
What I'm saying is: Crowley and Aziraphale adopt both Adam and Warlock and they don't know which one is the antichrist so they just act with the assumption they both are and the two end up so close anyway that when Adam does come into his power no one can tell which one of them did it.