- Broadchurch (2)
03 Jul 2019
Love is poison to any demon who feels it. Crowley's used Hell as the antidote these last six thousand years. He can't do that anymore, for reasons having to do with a certain apocalypse-that-wasn't. Things spiral helplessly from there.
(Crowley feels the weight of a new impending deadline, time marching toward his own personal end. Aziraphale frets whenever Crowley lets him and feels utterly powerless in the face of this--whatever it is. He doesn't know. Crowley won't tell him.)
Bookmarked by Scotbren
10 Dec 2019