Bruna. 28. Bisexual. Brazil. I've got a film degree.
Sometimes I post mature content, so I'll ask to only follow me if you're 18+.
This is a multifandom blog. Expect lots of Hannibal and Star Trek. Also Vampire Chronicles. Lots of movies. There will be on occasion rock bands and singers. Also books and TV shows and random stuff.
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some time ago i read good omens and thought “great book, but what if crowley were gay, a great writer, and somewhat sexually involved with aziraphale?” and, me being me, i wrote a poem on this concept entitled “What If An Angel And A Demon Fell In Love? Wouldn’t That Be Nifty?” and today it won me a hundred fucking dollars in a poetry contest. so take that neil gaiman
Oh lover, you’re a triumph, an undone calamity As flagrantly forbidden as the fruit up Eden’s tree I’m coiled like a caliphate; your hand crawls up my thigh The only of the seven sins you never can deny
You’ll never say you love me, though; you can’t admit you care You won’t admit you love me like the drowning love the air You claim that I am nothing but the pride before the fall And maybe I have fallen, but I love you, after all
For I’m a devil; I can raise, then raze, than radiate I am a devil; I bleed black as ichor soaked in hate I am a devil; I deal in the secret side of pain Renunciation of salvation, dreamers down the drain.
And you’re an angel; you protect and guard all wondrous things You are an angel; you can rest the wide world on your wings You are an angel; you give the ineffable a voice You’re absolutes and absolution; I’m the thrill of choice.
Oh, lover, you are swords and crowns, crucifictitious tears, You’re covenants and convents and ecclesiastic years, Evangelist, avenger, Jonah in the wailing wall Pour plagues into the populace and kill the first sons, all
You want to say you love me like all demons love despair I want to say I love you like all angels love their prayer Oh lover, I’ll prostrate myself and never cut my hair, Oh lover, I have loved you since before the stars were there
You are an angel; you can lead the righteous in attack I am a devil; I can lead the wretched fighting back, I live to love you; it cleaves like a comet ’cross my soul You incarnation of creation I cannot control Though I cannot he holy, when I’m with you, I am whole.
The only things in the flat Crowley devotes any personal attention to are the houseplants. He had heard about talking to plants in the early ‘70s, and thought it an excellent idea. Although “talking” is perhaps the wrong word for what Crowley does.
Neil: I remember you told me that David turned to you and said “How bad is it? What am I meant to be feeling when the Bentley blows?” What did you say to him?
Douglas: I said, “It’s like Doctor Who, watching the TARDIS blow up,” and I think that got the right emotion out of him. Don’t know why.