#time for hell

After millions of texts and dozens of video chats over the long wait between winter and summer, the Mystery Best Friends are ready for a summer full of fun and romance in Gravity Falls.

After too many years of waiting and planning, something else waits in the shadows. And this time, he has Hellish help and enough power to draw the attention of one angel and one demon who would so much rather be doing anything other than trying to prevent another Armageddon.

Co-written by @syl-writes-stuff and @skimmingmilk

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Chapter 12

Any demon would prefer Earth over Hell, which was exactly why the demonic lot had been more likely to visit its surface over the years than the opposition. They'd popped in and out, possessing humans, stirring up trouble in tiny ways, and everyone had left Crowley alone because they'd all assumed - partially because he'd lied on compliance reports - that he was stirring up trouble in big ways. If they'd known most of it all had been humanity itself, no demonic intervention needed, he'd have probably been dragged back down for a desk job.

Though, after making it a point to visit as little as possible over the centuries, Crowley couldn't actually remember the last time he hadn't gone through the front door. His job had always been above ground and he'd liked it there even before slithering up to a certain angel. It shouldn't have been a surprise that they'd landed in a storage unit filled near to bursting with desks, but it made him grimace as much as the dirt the back entrances always required.

He brushed loose soil off his shoulders, but left it smudged on his cheeks, and reached out for Aziraphale's wrist before it could come down. "None of that, angel. A Heavenly miracle will reverberate through here like a bomb. You can handle a touch of dirt for a bit." Though he silently rid him of most of it anyway. It was the scent that mattered more than the actual soil.

"Right, so sorr-" The apology died on the tip of his tongue, so Aziraphale switched to a well-practiced huff as he relegated himself to merely dusting off the sleeves of his coat. He hesitated when he realized the demonic miracle that had likely taken place when his fingers came away clean, and it took everything in him not to send Crowley the most grateful of smiles. "Right," he said again, pitching his voice a bit lower than usual, a bit more gruff. "Obviously. Not bothered by dirt, don't be ridiculous."

He almost sounded drunk, Crowley mused, just without the slurring. It was a good thing he'd had centuries to act like he wasn't gone over him because it was easy enough to angle his head and scowl a little. He let his accent shift when he spoke, thicken into more of a Scottish brogue. "Obviously not. Just keep at it and we'll be alright. You ready?"

((Bad news: I’m in a 3d modeling class and Autodesk is absolute hell--))