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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    In which they are opposing forces, not designed to touch, anathema to each other. Crowley refuses to accept it.

    Language:
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    18 Jul 2020

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    Use me, please, Crowley had said, so Aziraphale takes him at his word.

    Language:
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    01 Jul 2020

    Bookmarker's Notes

    How odd to know someone better than your favorite novel, to know that one day they were bound to find their way here, and yet not understand how much they loved without revelation. Love is the only secret worth keeping and it is difficult to give away, so it must be done by degrees. Kisses are a prelude, and bodies help, and confessions sing it into being.

  3. Public Bookmark 60

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    “Besides, I never imagined you’d be willing to leave your house in London behind. You were always so fond of the place.”
    Aziraphale chuckled, reaching out to carefully untie the demon’s ponytail; he mentally noted that he was yet to see a sight as breathtaking as Crowley with his hair down. “I was fond of it, yes. So much it took me some time to realise it wasn’t really my home.”
    Crowley snorted. “You’re about to say something really sappy, aren’t you?”
    “Oh, shut it, will you?” The angel elbowed him lightly. “I’m being serious. The bookshop was never my home, nor was Heaven.”
    “Obviously.” Crowley still resented the way the other angels have treated Aziraphale; he couldn’t imagine a place like that, so impersonal, ever being a home to an angel like him. “Your home is here.”
    “Obviously.” Aziraphale repeated, gently running his fingers through his hair. “My home is with you.”

    After stopping Armaggedon, an angel and a demon work through their traumas, slowly discovering the meaning of "home".

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    04 Jun 2020

  4. Public Bookmark 57

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    Crowley couldn’t understand any of this. He couldn’t fathom Aziraphale actually wanting this, enjoying this. How long had Aziraphale wanted this and why had he finally acted tonight of all nights? Was Crowley going to have to don his best suit and burn his feet every night from here to the end of the world? Because God knew he would.
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    On the night a church is bombed and books are saved, Aziraphale gives in to what he wants. Crowley can't understand it but is more than willing to follow wherever the angel will lead him.

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    02 May 2020

  5. Public Bookmark 99

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    “Aziraphale?” He prompted as he fiddled with the seal of the bottle, tugging at the stubborn cork. His sharp fangs came down to worry at his bottom lip. “Your idea?”

    “I’ll get to it in a minute.” Aziraphale looked practically disheveled, and beautiful, and despite everything that happened, he looked perfectly, utterly, calm. “I was hoping to talk about us.”

    The cork gave, and Crowley hit himself in the face.

    Crowley’s venom is a truth serum, one he has used on himself for centuries, dosing himself in private to admit to his own carefully buried feelings— but accidents happen, and Crowley bites himself the night after the Apocalypse.

    There are a thousand and one ways to say I love you, and consent is a part of every single one.

    Language:
    English
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    02 May 2020