Kirinin



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  1. Rec *

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    Summary

    "I'm in a bit of a pickle, my dear," Aziraphale said over the telephone.

    Crowley was seized by immediate fury. Not even a decade, and they're at it again, he thought viciously. You'd think they'd be embarrassed enough to stay out of things for a few centuries at least, after botching the apocalypse like that.

    "Who's done something to you?" hissed Crowley.

    "Ah," said Aziraphale, in the quiet tone of someone who didn't mean to learn someone else's secrets and was mildly sheepish about it. "This crossword clue -- I'm stuck -- 1980s French fencer, thought you might know. It's eight letters and has a Q in it."

    "Trinquet," Crowley snapped, in the tone of someone who had revealed one of his secrets and was annoyed about it.


    An account pertaining to the cultivation of figs, the ecstasy of St. Theresa of Avila, the ontological uncertainty of mammoths, the nature of temptation, 2001: A Space Odyssey, and the ten years following the end of the world.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
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    06 Oct 2019

    Bookmarker's Notes

    "There was no hedonistic slide of lips across lips, even though that would have been the appropriate response had they been humans harboring similar affections for one another. In a hypothetical universe where Crowley and Aziraphale were merely humans, it's certainly what they did."

    Crowley and Aziraphale aren't quite human and as such, don't quite know what to do with themselves.

  2. Rec *

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    “Sahib,” Aziraphale says. “I am not named for Israfel. I am the one to whom Allah gave the name.”

    Five times Aziraphale attempted to tempt a human being and failed, utterly and completely, in service of God’s plan.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    5,940
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    05 Oct 2019

    Bookmarker's Notes

    A unique and marvelous one. The one with the angel on camera at the protest

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    “Who was at the very first rehearsal, hmm? Who read over Shakespeare’s shoulder as he put ink to parchment? If anything, I know Hamlet just as intimately as I know you.” Aziraphale picked up his teacup again and looked at Crowley over the rim of it. “Maybe even more.”

    Crowley was tempted to ask if he’d fucked Hamlet.

    ****

    Aziraphale is cast as the lead in a community theatre production of Hamlet, a lifelong dream of his and a lifelong night terror of Crowley's. But, as the hapless Crowley helps him run lines, it becomes a mystery why anyone would let Aziraphale on stage. Tears are shed, skulls are crushed, monologues are butchered, and through it all, Crowley remains supportive. After all, the show must go on--even if it is the fifty billionth production of stupid, overrated Hamlet.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    4,957
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    1/1
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    04 Oct 2019

    Bookmarker's Notes

    Absolutely delicious and funny

  4. Rec *

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    Crowley, following times of overwhelming distress, resorted to the snake form as a means of finding comfort and solitude.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    13,606
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    03 Oct 2019

    Bookmarker's Notes

    LOVELY & SWEET

  5. Rec *

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    Summary

    "There's simply been a reheating of the books, so to speak. A few halo points for me, a tiny speck of brimstone for you and it all works out in the end, you'll see."
    It's as sound a theory as Aziraphale's own. And they haven't heard from either office so –
    "Why worry about it," he says with a smile and leans back in his chair.

    Aziraphale and Crowley experience unforeseen side effects from their swap. Transformative panic and fiction ensue.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    11,826
    Chapters:
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    03 Oct 2019

    Bookmarker's Notes

    The one with Aziraphale writing fanfiction.