EchoSilverWolf



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    There was a certain look that Aziraphale wore occasionally—a pinched sort of moue that looked like he’d just taken a very large mouthful of cinnamon—which meant he thought Crowley was being ridiculous. He had put it on.

     

    “Hang on,” he had said. “You want us to do human things?”

     

    *

    If you're going to go native, you might as well go all the way.

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    17 Nov 2024

  2. Rec *

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    “But you admit it! You did tempt me!”

    “I offered you warm food during a storm,” Crowley argues. “If you call that temptation, I’d hate to see you talk to an innkeeper.” Aziraphale scowls some more. Crowley shrugs. “Besides, no harm done. You seem to be enjoying yourself.”

    He has Aziraphale there. “Still,” he says, spreading his hands wide. “It has to be said—” He glances up to the sky. “—for anyone listening, that I am not at fault for my appetite.”

    “Never said you were,” Crowley says. “Just said you liked the oysters.”

    or, an examination vis-à-vis food and forgiveness

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    15 Feb 2024

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    "There must be something I can do for you? In return?” Aziraphale asked. An easy offer to accept or reject, with no hard feelings on either side after.

    He wasn’t counting on Crowley being just absolutely the most oblivious creature on the planet.

    OR

    Listen, I feel like Michael Sheen was daring us to write as many takes on this moment as we want, and I'd hate to disappoint him.

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    25 Dec 2023

  4. Public Bookmark 81

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    “Shall I dance?”

    (A million sunsets back, their hands laced, circling each other, hair lit by chandeliers and candles. Close, but not close enough. Spinning and shuffling, cards in a tarot deck. The lovers right side up.)

    “Crowley?” Aziraphale hedges after a while. The demon’s mouth only makes a vague, noncommittal mumble. Caught in a dream. When Aziraphale steps back, presumably to give himself space to curtsy, Crowley’s hand clutches Aziraphale’s arm of its own volition.

    “Don’t go far,” Crowley says. It comes out a humiliating, honest beg. “Just… just stand next to me. For a moment. If you can.”

    Aziraphale nods. “I can. I will.”

    “Will you?”

    ...

    Alternatively, Crowley breaks. Aziraphale won't let him. Breakfast at the Ritz, anyone?

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    04 Nov 2023

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    He’d almost forgotten how cold Heaven could be.

    It’s even worse nowadays; he often finds himself wandering the vast, empty section of space that has been baptised his ‘office’—insomuch as any blank open expanse could ever be considered such. There’s nobody around for miles.

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    09 Sep 2023