#anathema/newt

[leon-swedfinqs]

Home Is Where The Heart Is

Summary:

Home was always something that was difficult for Crowley to define. In his youth, it was under the powerful “love” of the looming figure which he admired and loyally followed. Now, he supposed, it was a rickety townhouse filled with people he adored and felt the urge to protect no matter what. But also, his home was amongst the stars — after avoiding it for so long, it was finally time to open that front door and proclaim what was his. It seemed fate was finally getting it’s way.

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, BAMF Aziraphale + Crowley, Crowley Whump, Hints At Past Abusive Relationship, Found Family

Word Count: 24,943

READ ON AO3

There is a word block limit on tumblr so I apologize for the formatting :(

“Oh, by the way, Crowley? There’s a letter for you on the table,” Nina called.

“I never get mail!” she heard the tiefling yell from the office.

“Well you do now! Drag your sorry ass over here and open it!”

The tiefling begrudgingly pushed himself up and trudged into the kitchen as Nina slipped past to go out into the back garden and join Maggie on the deck. Whenever mail was sent to their home, it was usually addressed to one of the girls, Aziraphale, or to the business as a whole. Crowley prided himself in the fact that this was something he didn’t have to worry about (alongside the fact that he was still holding the playful grudge he had with Aziraphale over their old PO Box).

Like Nina said, sitting on the kitchen table was a long yellow-brown envelope, addressed to his full name “Anthony Crowley” in golden script. However, as he picked him the hefty letter and flipped it over, he froze as he was met with the wax seal that kept the note shut.

Twin horns.

The all-too-familiar symbol made a pit form in his stomach. With shaking hands, Crowley carefully ripped the envelope open and pulled out the delicate parchment. He took a moment to breathe before unfurling the note.

“Anthony, An interesting name. Masculine in nature. Rough. I suppose it will take some time to get used to, given enough time. I suppose it suits you, in an odd ironic way. Did you know that it means ‘the priceless one’? You most definitely are to me. Surely this has caught your attention, my lamb — it took a bit longer for me to find a way to contact you, considering you were ignoring all of my other calls and star signs. I wish to speak with you. In person, preferably. Wouldn’t that be nice, don’t you agree? We have much to catch up on and discuss. You know where to meet me. You know when you’ll see me.”

~~~~~~

“And he just knows!!” Raphael’s smile was nearly too big for her cheeks, “I was so worried when he asked to meet me because he didn’t say a time but he was there! Isn’t it romantic?” she swooned. Beelzebub had to tilt their chin quite high to meet Raphael’s head in the clouds.

“Romantic…,” they parroted in a far more nonplussed tone, “I don’t see why stalking you is romantic.”

Back then, the plucky overachiever wore her heart on her sleeve, and hardly recognized the fact that her cheeks flushed bright red and puffed out stubbornly. Nothing held her back all that time ago. “It’s not stalking—that makes it sound creepy. He just knows me so well, we’re basically on the same wavelength. Maybe our love brought us together—we both just chose a random time to go to the gazebo and our hearts were so in sync that it perfectly aligned,” she hummed.

“I’m surprised I’m not talking to your feet you’re so head over heels,” Beelzebub grumbled.

“I know! Isn’t it wonderful?” Raphael squeed. She had completely missed Beelzebub’s connotation to their remark, either purposefully or inadvertently while drunken on lust.

Beelzebub rolled their eyes and turned their attention to something else. “Let me know when your next date is,” they muttered.

“Oooo! Why, wanna help me pick out an outfit?” Raphael smiled.

“So I can avoid being within a 200 mile radius,” they groaned.

“Oh don’t be so grumpy,” Raphael tsked as she went to her closet and began to flip through articles, already trying to pick her next date attire, “and besides, I may not even be able to tell you! After all, our dates are more like fate than pre planned. He’ll know where to find me. And I’ll know where to find him too, when our hearts meet and we align in time, place, and space.”

“Go to poetry club or cram it,” Beelzebub snapped as they cracked open a book on their desk.

~~~~~~

Crowley knew he could find Lucifer easily if he wanted to. That still made him sick.

He didn’t know what was going to happen, and that simple thought frightened him.

For years he’d had nightmares about encountering Lucifer—he’d lived through plenty of scenarios, some that seemed obviously impossible and others that felt terrifyingly real. But even with years of time to think and process and theorize, he had no solid foundation now.

The recognition and seeming acceptance of his new name was, well, odd in his eyes. Mainly because each time he had entered a panicked episode imagining once again meeting Lucifer, he was no longer Crowley but instead someone he’d forgone long ago. But now Lucifer had set the standard: he was entering this encounter as Crowley. He is Crowley. And what would Crowley do against the ram?

One thing was clear, not initially recognized but understood the moment Crowley took a step back to acknowledge his own thought process; he was leaving.

Crowley was entering the fight, yes, but the life he built for himself and his family, he would preserve that above all else. It didn’t matter if he wasn’t born as Crowley, that this problem didn’t start with this person, but he would make damn well sure that his legacy was as Crowley.

After nearly a week of planning, debating, and regretting, the rogue slipped out of the adventurer’s guild and started running.

When Aziraphale woke up and didn’t see nor feel Crowley around at first, he didn’t think much of it. The tiefling would occasionally go out into town or sulk out into the back garden on his own and would return later that day when he was awake again. He’s been seeing it in his eyes, his partner hasn’t necessarily been doing too well either — so letting him have those moments where he (hopefully) did something to take care of himself was important.

He didn’t think much of it the second time he awoke either. Sometimes Crowley would forget to come upstairs, too engrossed in what had finally kept him preoccupied, or he had fallen asleep on the couch in pure exhaustion and couldn’t be woken (without resorting to violence, at least).

The third time he woke, he was met with Maggie instead. She looked nervous, upset.

“My dear, what’s wrong?” He had asked.

“It’s Mr. Crowley,” she said with a frown. “We haven’t seen him in a week.”

That’s why Aziraphale found himself standing over Crowley’s desk, holding himself up on the back of the chair as his head spins. Two letters sat neatly on the wood — one ripped open bearing Crowley’s full name requesting his presence, with no clear destination, date, or sender. The flap of the envelope bore a dark red wax seal, with the ram-horns symbol seemingly staring directly into his soul. The second was addressed to him, tightly sealed with light red wax.

“Aziraphale…” Anathema carefully started.

“He rarely told me his fears,” Aziraphale said, his tone flat and emotionless as his eyes flicked over to the opened letter, scanning over the details. “But in his sleep, he cried about a man with horns, begging for his forgiveness. Begging him to stop, to let him go, to let him run.”

He sighed as he picked up the envelope addressed to him and meekly looked over at the witch. “He could already be lost, Anathema.”

Aziraphale glanced down at the note, a frown etched deep into his face. He gently opened it with steady hands, taking extra care to not crumple the paper, lest he ruin the message.

“Angel, I’m not usually one for colorful words or fancy penmanship. You know that. You’ve been doing our paperwork for the past couple of decades. I’m honored I spent my freedom with you. Fate? She’s mischievous. I was nearly a couple of days from turning and running back to what I used to call home and beg to go back, no matter. You’ve always been my home, since then. Even if it took a while for me to come around to the idea. Keep the bed warm for when I come back, okay? Till then, you’ll find me where the stars hang the highest. Look up and smile for me. Promise? - Crowley”

Inside was a ribbon, a hair tie that Crowley would use whenever his hair got too long and Aziraphale couldn’t cut it in a timely manner. It was the same tie they used for their impromptu wedding ceremony, tying their hands together for the hand fasting. He never saw the tiefling part without it since then.

Aziraphale had to quickly thrust the note away and tuck his head into his shoulder to avoid wetting the paper with his tears. If this was indeed the last correspondence from his Crowley, he wouldn’t let anything touch it, let alone his own sorrow.

“Oh…Aziraphale…” Anathema frowned as she carefully drew closer to him and extended her arms slowly. His tears were large and dewy like his normal blubbery sadness, but his demeanor was more stiff and hardened overall, with a struggle to contain his current internal turmoil.

“T-That…fool…” Aziraphale wavered as his hands found the ribbon and clutched it carefully, rubbing the surface between his thumb and forefinger. Anathema feared some sort of divorce from the abandonment of the ribbon, but she quickly dashed the idea when she considered who she was thinking about—if those stupid lovebirds split intentionally, love was dead. Instead she carefully peered over into the cleric’s hands and scanned the message before her breath wavered.

“He’ll be back, Azira. He said so, ‘keeping the bed warm’ and all,” she said as she reached to grab his shoulder. Aziraphale, however, pulled away.

“He knows he may not return. It’s why he left this,” Azi snapped as he held up the ribbon before his shoulders slumped and he gazed at the cord softly, “I can’t honor his note.”

“Huh?” Anathema blinked.

“I’m not just going to lie in bed keeping it warm,” Aziraphale huffed, “I need to find him and bring him back to our Eden.”

“But Aziraphale-“

“-He did the same for me. He’s probably still doing it, knowing what he’s like. Protecting us, protecting me. I just can’t…I can’t let him be self-sacrificing. Again.”

“But we have no clue on where he could be,” Maggie frowned. “There’s no destination or return address. How did he even know where to go, even?”

“Ram’s horns,” Aziraphale said simply. “The insignia on the wax. ‘W-where the stars are hung highest’. He didn’t need to be told where to meet who he has a connection with.”

Aziraphale sighed and closed his fist around the ribbon, wiping away the tears that slipped away from him. “He kept his secrets guarded and close to his heart. But…I have a hunch he went home.”

“No, he didn’t.”

Aziraphale looked over at the source of the remark—Nina looking at him with a stony gaze and crossing her arms.

“Pardon?”

“He didn’t go home. ‘This’ is his home, Aziraphale. Don’t forget that,” she said. The woman walked over to the desk and picked up the note with the rams horn seal. Her nose wrinkled in disgust as she scanned over the words. “Crowley kept a lot from all of us because he wanted to leave that life behind; for both his and our sakes, it was better to move on from it. But there were a few rare nights where under the influence of the bottle he let some things slip. And let me tell you, this ex is bad news. Crowley left here because he’s still trying to keep that life separate from the one he built here with us. I’m all for respecting privacy, but this has gone too far — we need to force ourselves into this situation.”

“I completely agree,” Aziraphale nodded. He gave one last wipe of his cheeks before shaking his head and straightening his shoulders determinedly. “He needs us now, I’ll drag him home by the tail if I have to.”

“Sorry to interrupt the moment,” Anathema piped in, “but…well…about ‘home’. I have a prophecy I think I need to share about this whole mess.”

The others all turned and glanced at the witch curiously. She sighed and straightened her glasses as she composed herself.

“I didn’t think too much of it at first when I received it earlier this week, it felt like it was going to be far in our future. I suppose I was wrong,” she sighed. “‘A lamb go runneth from what is to what once was. Its home burns in its wake as thy flock start to speculate. The ram has been virtuous in its patience, for now it shall earn the prize. Child of the stars, accept thy fate and be carried home’.”

“Well…I can guess what some of that means,” Nina huffed.

“That…that can’t be right,” Aziraphale mumbled. Anathema looked at him puzzled — while the others had questioned the validity of her predictions before, he was generally a firm believer and had actually defended and helped decipher her premonitions on multiple occasions. He seemed to know what she was thinking, perhaps a prophecy of his own.

“I’m sorry dear girl, but I refuse to accept that prediction. While I do agree with Nina regarding the speculation of what ‘home’ may mean for Crowley, implying that the ram, or…well I suppose it’s Lucifer, as he told me once…will receive a ‘prize’ is…unthinkable, and I refuse to entertain it,” Aziraphale huffed before immediately turning away and snatching up a nearby wicker filled with random blankets and cloths. He flipped the container and deposited the contents onto the floor before walking over to a nearby shelf and beginning to stare at it.

Anathema shot Newt a look they had long since normalized between each other, one that spoke more volumes than an eye roll and was particularly targeted at the usual bullshittery of their bosses. Still though, she gave Aziraphale a bit of a break, given the current situation. “Azira, I’m saying this as your friend. But even the most powerful denial doesn’t undo a prophecy,” she said as she approached him. The cleric didn’t look at her and instead began pulling books and other bobbles from the shelf to place in the basket.

She sighed. “Come on, I know you’re upset. Now’s not the time to pout and do something reckless.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Aziraphale nodded as he pulled a few more books into the basket, “I hope you understand my dear, I haven’t gone mad. I’m currently trying to pack the house for the impending fire. And I’d suggest you all also procure your valuables if you’d rather they not be engulfed.”

“…oh,” Anathema blinked. “I suppose you’re right.”

“You don’t really think we’ll lose the house, do you…?” Maggie carefully asked.

“It’s not an if, it’s a when. I don’t want us to be unprepared,” Aziraphale huffed. “I have to ready myself to go retrieve my partner, and I’m not going to do that if I’m also going to constantly worry about all of your safety and whether the memories we keep here are protected. I simply do not have the energy to multitask.”

The basket was filled with odd books and random trinkets that were kept on the office bookshelf — were those really that important…?

“Now off you pop!”

“You’re serious…?” Newt asked hesitantly.

“As the plague,” Aziraphale huffed. Newt still didn’t seem fully placated and the cleric took a moment out of his planning to sigh and shuffle to the nearby hall closet. He dug through it before pulling out a bundle of leather satchels. With a quick couple of tosses, each person got their own bag.

“There, bags of holding,” Aziraphale said plainly, “should help you pack. I ask that you pack all that is important to you, but don’t take everything. If we’re seen by any potential prying eyes lugging all of our furniture out, our element of surprise is for naught. I know you will miss the house, I certainly will,” Aziraphale paused as he glanced around the loved walls, “-but we can and will survive and rebuild. Don’t worry about expenses, I will find new furniture and accommodations and whatnot. Just get what you need. We’ll reconvene here in 2 hours.”

“Why on earth do you have so many bags of holding?” Nina blinked as she turned the back around in her hands. “Aren’t these, like…not at all easy to acquire?

“This wouldn’t be the first time we moved,” Aziraphale said simply.

The group stood awkwardly for a moment, before deciding not to pry and to leave the cleric to tear apart the room and pull out things that were most likely private. If they only had two hours to pack, they needed to get started.

Once Aziraphale was alone, he heavily sighed and sunk into his plush chair that sat near Crowley’s desk. He grabbed a notebook out of the basket and turned it around in his hands. It was one of Crowley’s — he rarely ever wrote or kept a journal, but he has caught him doing so recently in the periods where he’s awake. He had a gut feeling it held all the things he wasn’t saying, what Aziraphale was catching in brief moments while he was being taken care of.

“You’re coming home. I promise you,” he sighed

~~~~~~

Crowley didn’t have to wait long. As he stared at the iron gates sculpted with motif of each 12 zodiac figures, he was indeed reminded of the first time he’d encountered these gates with absolute giddiness, though he did take some slight comfort now, in recognizing that they didn’t feel as grand as they had before.

There was a brief moment for him to pause outside of the lock sanctuary before Lucifer finally appeared. The mortar lines in the cobble just beyond the gate gained a faint red glow that emanated from a single point. The cobble shook and shifted as the stones began to reshape and part to form a passage for the ram. From behind the red glow, the towering figure of the near-god stepped through, the light seeming to part as he moved. Once outside, the stones shook again and re-merged.

The two stared at each other in stone silence. Crowley was using all of his energy to form a more neutral and cold expression, while Lucifer seemed calm and content with just a hint of smugness, though that was quite normal for his face.

“Welcome home,” Lucifer smiled. He gestured his chin upward slightly, and the gates instantly pulled apart, granting access to the tiefling, “We’ve much to discuss.”

Crowley didn’t bother agreeing or disagreeing, or even showing any physical indication of his feelings. He refused to let Lucifer win by giving any indication that he was happy, or even content about the current situation. But if he dared fight back, he worried about unintended consequences to himself, and those he loved. The most he did was follow behind Lucifer and quietly, determined not to speak unless spoken to, and to not give any information unless directly inquired about it.

Soon enough, the two found themselves a quiet area of the garden, one of Lucifer’s personal spots that he’d often whisked Raphael to for various kanoodling. A small table, two chairs, and a basket were already set up, awaiting the participants.

Lucifer sat down in one of the chairs as he gestured to the other across the table.

“Come, have a seat,” he purred. “I’ve prepared some lunch. You traveled far to get here, no?”

Crowley was hesitant as he rigidly stood a few feet away from the arrangement. His whole body was buzzing, refusing to move any closer. He had to keep up appearances, however. It was like this was a giant game of chess. Every move needed to be specific and calculated, one thing wrong and he feared what could happen. It was a gamble.

And he was terrible at chess.

Finally, Crowley made himself move and carefully sat in the chair, keeping his hands in his lap and refusing to acknowledge the food’s presence.

‘It’s like he’s looming over us,’ he heard in his ears. ‘His horns are aimed at the heart.’

‘It’s been too long, I’ve grown too much to let him win so easily,’ Crowley thought to himself.

Lucifer hummed as he pulled the basket closer to him and started to carefully unpack the contents.

“So, let’s do some quick introductions,” Lucifer hummed. That caught Crowley off guard, but he was very quick to rein that in. After all, confusion was probably what Lucifer wanted, or anything similar to lower Crowley's defenses. Instead he said nothing and let Lucifer start.

“So, ‘Anthony.’ Anthony J. Crowley. This whole persona you invented to evade me. Shall we drop it now that we’ve finished playing hide and seek?” Lucifer hummed as he pulled out a small tray of meats and cheeses. It was spoken with such calmness, as if it was merely a game to play with a child rather than an over 30 year long conflict. Crowley again mulled over his answer but ultimately decided that if he were to assert his dominance in the situation and not fold to Lucifer’s will, he needed to show enough resistance to gain respect, but not too much as to anger his opponent.

“I prefer you continue calling me Anthony actually,” Crowley said plainly. Further remarks and potential justifications flashed his mind, though he bit his tongue. Lucifer paused before shrugging his shoulders.

“I suppose that’s fine. You have been living with it for quite a while. It’s only reasonable that you’d still be attached. Though I hope you aren’t attached to the other play things you found on your sabbatical.”

Crowley bristled at his words, but tried his best to keep his expression neutral. The ram was just pushing his pawns forward to make room for the rest.

Lucifer hummed as he placed a small stack of meats and cheeses in his mouth, before going back to the basket and pulling out a few glasses and a bottle of wine.

“I find it quite cute, when I think about it,” Lucifer smiled to himself. “I was told you went domestic. I thought they were joking. My energetic lamb settled down in a house in the middle of a thriving village? Not even Leo could predict that with their tarot and foresight. It must’ve been like a game of house, no?”

Crowley’s toes curled under the table. He still stood firm.

Lucifer studied him for a moment, trying to pick up on cracks in his defense, though he was actually surprised at Crowley's newfound poker face. Raphael couldn’t keep a secret to save her life. Still though, he truly believed his lamb was still the same, just disillusioned from their time away, and a few more pokes and prods would break their walls.

“You know, if you wanted that you could’ve just said so, lamb,” Lucifer tsked he poured the dark red wine into the glasses before setting down the bottle and picking up one of them between his fingers. “Honestly, I would’ve preferred if you told me sooner, you know, I can give you whatever you want. And I still can, of course. We’re just also going to have to deal with some of the cosmetic changes that have met you from age. Nothing a few charms or continuous ‘disguise self’ casts, can’t fix.”

Crowley stiffened before exhaling a long, quiet breath. As steadily as he could, he picked up his own glass and swirled the wine around in it. “Already thinking about dressing up your favorite doll? I don’t think I’m the only one ‘playing’.”

“Oh, but dress up is one of the best parts,” Lucifer mused. “You always loved the dresses I would pick out for you. You even took some when you left, do they still fit?”

Crowley huffed as he took a swig of the wine. It felt like Lucifer was carefully dancing around the topic he wanted to broach, pull him into certain feelings before addressing it. He can see right through him.

“Wouldn’t know, they’re long gone now,” he laughed to himself. “Made for some quick petty change when I needed it.”

Lucifer hummed and set down his glass. He reached forward, seeing to grab out for another snack, but he suddenly redirected and suddenly his hand was on Crowley’s face. He carefully cradled his chin and right cheek. Crowley sat absolutely still.

“You did always have that spunk to you. Such an alluring little minx,” Lucifer said gently. His hand drifted upwards and he used his thumb to carefully pull the skin around Crowley’s eyes more taught, “Ah…yes, underneath those wrinkles is still the same goddess. My little lamb. So pure and innocent, obedient to its Shepard.”

Lucifer’s hand moved down and instead moved to hold Crowley's lower jaw entirely, gently, “You’re still my precious lamb, aren’t you Raphael? Not a deceiver, not a rebel, not a snake.”

He punctuated his final word by dramatically tightening his grip, instead grasping Crowley’s face violently and staring him down with a sudden fury that the rogue was not familiar with.

The two had their eyes locked in a silent stare. Crowley tried his best to keep his breathing even and calm.

“You’re far too feeble and sweet to be a predator,” Lucifer purred. “It’s far too much power, it would hurt you.”

Lucifer loosened his grip and trailed his thumb along Crowley’s jaw, the pad of his finger nicking on some of the scales.

“It took your beautiful eyes,” he sighed longingly.

Lucifer’s gaze drifted off. He recognized Crowley was stubborn to engage, but he used that to lead the conversation as he desired. If he wanted a break, he would take one. And now that he was here, practically in his victory lap, he wanted to savor it.

His gaze moved upwards, and although the average person could not see the stars at day through the planet’s atmosphere, Crowley recognized that Lucifer was communing with the cosmos just then.

“Do you remember,” Lucifer started, “at the koi pond, I said I would do anything for you. I would move the stars and heavens themselves if I had to.”

Crowley hesitated as the memory came to the forefront of his mind. Even still, to this day, the memory was painted with love. He heavily swallowed. “I recall.”

“And I would. And I will. Anthony, I’ve found a way to fix this. I could undo this little problem. You could go back to you, and we could go back to us. You’re magic back, your autonomy back, your life back. No more hiding or playing house or scales and golden eyes. I can fix this if you’ll let me.”

Crowley took a sharp breath. His thoughts trailed back to Adam, how his whole presence felt displaced in time as his whole star cycle was forcibly shifted to nearly match his.

Grabbing and pulling a timeline was not an easy feat. It was a dangerous act. Adam was lucky that his soul was still intact.

“Just say the word,” Lucifer hummed. “It’ll be perfect again.”

Crowley and Lucifer had very different definitions of perfect. Right now Lucifer was trying to tempt him, waving candy in front of his face in an attempt to get him to bite before thinking of the consequences.

What if he said no? What was the expectation then—would Lucifer lock him away? Brainwash him? Let him go?

Still though, the prospect of his freedom from a celestial connection was no doubt intriguing.

“…and what if I say no?” Crowley asked carefully.

“And why would you?” Lucifer teased.

“Just…humor me. And if I said no?”

“Wellll…” Lucifer drew out the L, almost as if he was whistling with his tongue poking between his teeth. “I’m sure we would come to some sort of compromise, no?”

Crowley cocked up an eyebrow.

“I don’t believe you’ve ever made a compromise in your life. Seems odd to start now, no?” he said.

“I would do it for you, and only you. Don’t you see? You’re the only one who has this kind of power over me, Raphael. It’s why I need you back. And I know you feel the same, it’s why you called back to me.”ñ

That made Crowley stop. “What…what are you talking about, ‘calling back to you’?” he blinked.

“Oh there’s no need to act coy, lamb. I felt you connect to your power, reach across the stars and call for me. You can put on the stubborn act, and I’m happy to play pretend with you, but I know you want this. Why are you resisting?”

Crowley bit his tongue, holding back a hiss as he felt his anger spike. He never would reach out to the power for him, he only ever did that for Aziraphale. There was no other choice, he was willing to do anything for him.

‘Oh Aries, you think so highly of yourself,’ the voice in his mind sneered.

“That wasn’t for you,” Crowley huffed.

Lucifer stopped, and for the briefest moment Crowley got a small bit of satisfaction from giving him pause.

“…what ever could you mean, my lamb? Who else would it be for? You’re not running around with Libra, are you?” Lucifer asked.

“I’m not ‘running around’ with anyone,” Crowley growled, “I…I was in a desperate situation. Had to help someone in need, so I accessed my magic again. That’s all,” Crowley said. Lucifer immediately smiled — not a good sign.

“You’re a bad liar,” he mused, “I felt it, you didn’t just access your magic, you called upon the power of the cosmos itself, darling. That’s not standard healing fodder.”

“Why I accessed my magic is not your concern,” Crowley huffed.

“Oh, so it’s your magic now?” Lucifer grinned. “When it encroaches and uses my domain, I would definitely say it is worth my concern. I know you. You didn’t touch it for decades. And then you prayed. You begged.”

Crowley frowned. Seemed the point wouldn’t be let go. Still, he hoped talking around it would be sufficient. Not quite lying, but not quite answering.

“I saved the world, you know,” Crowley suddenly said. It was strange, he’d never really thought about it that way (it was more a matter of “I rescued my husband” really) but in all technical senses the unintended consequences of his actions did probably save a lot of people.

Including Lucifer himself.

“Where did this sudden ego come from?” Lucifer asked.

“You were asking about the magic. The only reason I reconnected to the stars was so that I could stop the Eclipsian’s attempted magical genocide from a few months ago,” Crowley huffed.

“…you’re bluffing, that wasn’t you,” Lucifer said

“But it was. I utilized the power of the zodiac and I took down a crazy cult with it. That’s the only reason I accessed that magic. If I didn’t do anything, who knows? Maybe neither of us would have our magic anymore. I believe I had a fairly good reason,” he smiled.

Lucifer narrowed his eyes at him in suspicion. “I wasn’t informed that you were there, you know.”

“You didn’t need to be,” Crowley said simply, “though I do think this is important for us to talk about. See, you mentioned this power was too much for me. But considering that was my first time using it, I’d say I’m using it pretty well, no?”

Perhaps he was getting a bit too ballsy here, but he’d managed to throw Lucifer off guard and figured drilling the point may give him the upper hand. However, he’d misspoken.

“First time?” Lucifer parroted quietly.

Shit.

“Well-“

“You’ve kept it suppressed but still connected all this time, haven’t you? But you used it, really and truly, so why didn’t it connect?” Lucifer mused, though almost to himself at that point as he finally stood up from his chair and approached, immediately breaching Crowley's personal space and grabbing his shoulders. He stared into his eyes before a glimmer of realization. "Oh but you have. You're a ticking time bomb, Raphael. Everyday the sky gets closer to you, you're probably already hearing it calling, aren't you?"

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Crowley huffed.

‘He’s just messing with you,’ it whispered. ‘You’re safe. It won’t happen unless you say so.’

Lucifer hummed as he gently pushed a strand of Crowley’s hair behind his ear. “The tips of your ears turn pink when you lie, did you know that?”

Crowley flushed bright red and looked away.

‘This isn’t what you’re meant to do. Don’t let him take your life away,’ it whispered, trying to ground the star child though only causing further turmoil.

“Shh…” Crowley mumbled.

“You’re hearing it,” Lucifer affirmed before tsking. “My lamb, please. We need to act quickly if you want to sever the connection.”

“And what if I don’t want to?” Crowley quickly spat.

‘Don’t let him!’ it yelled.

“Oh, it wouldn’t hurt. You’re not thinking straight if you’re hearing double, of course.”

Crowley squirmed, trying to slip out of his grip. “Y-you don’t have power over me, not anymore.”

Those eight little words were enough to set Lucifer off. His fist tightened harshly, enough that Crowley let out an accidental pained moan. The divets in Lucifer’s horns began to glow a reddish orange, and his next exhale from his nose was signaled by visible vapor.

“You’ve forgotten your place!” Lucifer growled through clenched teeth, “You’re so fucking stubborn! Know your place! Don’t you see you’re mine?! What are you even resisting?! What do you want?!”

“I want to go home!” Crowley blurted out as his own serpentine features flared. The whites of his eyes disappeared into a pool of gold, his fangs sharpened, and the patches of black scales began to creep further. Lucifer paused for a moment, almost confused.

“You’re already…” he mumbled silently before the realization hit him and his fury blossomed, “You’re still attached to that play family of yours?! You’re mental!”

Lucifer suddenly thrust forward, tossing Crowley to the ground and stumbling out of his garden chair. When the tiefling righted and looked back up at him, Lucifer had manifested a small sphere floating in his hand. The image was blurry but he recognized it instantly — the house. Home base for the adventurer’s guild.

“You know, I didn’t think I would have to result in this,” Lucifer tsked. “But they’re getting in the way, and frankly, it’s getting a bit annoying!”

“L-leave them out of this!” Crowley shouted as he scrambled up to his feet, hitting his against his chest as an aggressive motion. “Your fight is with me!”

“My fight is with Raphael,” Lucifer snapped, “and I will destroy all that is this ‘Crowley’ to reach her. This is for your own good.”

Lucifer’s fingers curled, and his middle finger met his thumb, readying a snap. As they just barely began to slide against each other, Crowley screamed so desperately and quickly that his words barely made sense.

“I’LL DO IT!”

Lucifer paused and stared at him. Crowley’s heart was beating out of his chest at the moment and his nerves were shooting off the charts. There was a 50/50 chance his next words would instead be replaced by vomit.

“I’ll…change back…” he struggled out before cringing as he dropped his head and fell onto his knees, “Please…help me turn back…I’ll do anything you want, I’ll be whatever you want, just don’t hurt them…”

Lucifer smirked as he watched the tiefling grovel at his feet, his whole body shaking.

“Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Lucifer purred as he got down to a crouch to look down at him. His hand was still up, prepared to snap as the sphere of flame floated besides it. “Though I do like to keep all of my eggs in my basket, I’m sure you understand. Take this as a warning. If you’re lucky they might not even be in there.”

Crowley heard a sharp snap, making his breath hitch and whole body shudder knowing the meaning. If the ram had done so with the intent he hinted, then he was sure that the image would’ve shifted, with fire bursting out of the windows of the home, and the whole building collapsing. Instead the image simply disappeared as the fire was extinguished in a puff of smoke.

“We have a deal. Do not break it, or I’ll make sure to guarantee that they’ll be out of our way. Understand?”

Crowley was shaking hard, but managed to nod his head yes hard enough to discern itself from the residual trembling.

“That’s the spirit,” Lucifer hummed as the image in his hands dissipated into a flutter of sparks and he smiled, “Well then, no reason to delay.” He leaned down just slightly and held out his hand, though it felt significantly more demanding than chivalrous. Still, Crowley extended his own shakily and let himself be led, rising to his feet and walking with his head down. He barely registered the passing surroundings until Lucifer finally stopped and his eyes scanned the floor. It was instantly clear where he was — Aries’ personal chambers.

“Let’s begin,” Lucifer hummed.

~~~~~~

Beez groaned as they lumbered up from the desk once they started to hear frantic knocking on their dorm door. They were only just getting settled and starting to relax! Well, there goes that moment of peace.

As they flung the door open, they just narrowly missed as the hand that was knocking whizzed by due to the lack of surface, with the tiefling attached looking a bit frazzled.

“Ah! Uh, hello, hi, is this uh, is this room BD-02?” she sputtered as she read the room number scribbled on the back of an envelope. Seemed she only had two bags on her, satchels that were fraying and a bit overstuffed with clothes and other necessities.

Beez blinked. “Yeah, what’s it to you?” they huffed as they leaned against the doorframe.

“Oh, perfect! I’m Raphael, I’m your roommate!” she grinned as she held out her free hand.

Beez huffed and smirked to themself. Well this would make for an interesting first year. They grabbed their hand and gave it a firm shake. “Beelzebub, but I go by Beez. Keep your stuff away from my side, and I think this will go just fine.”

The tiefling eagerly nodded and grabbed her bags, dragging them inside of the dorm and plopping them down on the free bed. A few pieces of clothes and some pens fell out onto the sheets, but she didn’t seem to mind.

Despite how their personalities partially seemed to clash with each other, the two weren’t the worst roommate pairing. Beez would sit back and act as a wall for Raphael to ramble on at all hours of the day, and in return the tiefling would help them with their class work and provide study material. The kid was smart, they gave her credit for it. Near the end of their second semester her ramblings devolved from her usual drama over classmates and the work to her revelations over the cyclical zodiac calendar.

“I have a theory that it’s wrong,” she said to them one day as they both set up their second year rooming arrangement (they decided to stick together). “Everything is slightly shifted by around 20 days, give or take. It’s not really that noticeable, it’s just that the cycles per zodiac are actually shorter and there’s this missing gap.”

Beez heard bits and pieces of this mad-house theory she kept creating. These rambles have devolved into a cork board covered in papers and notes, and late nights between homework and studying she would be going through library books and analyzing the sky from the roof of their building.

If Beez was honest with themself, they had a hunch that she was onto something. While they didn’t really notice any difficulties with connecting to the elements, their power fluctuations were just a day or two off from what the calendar said.

However, Beez didn’t see too much of the progression of this theory, as Raphael’s attention had shifted to something else.

~~~~~~

“I never liked the guy to begin with, even as a professor,” Beez huffed. “But I do know that he’s predictable and doesn’t like to stray far from his precious territory. They only had a few meeting spots — your best bet is to check there.”

“Aries was always a bit too brash,” Tracy hummed. “I couldn’t handle the heat, but my sister did — she’s still on the council. I can probably ask her as well.”

“Really any sort of input would be great right now,” Aziraphale sighed. “I believe we’re running on limited time.”

“I doubt he’d stray far from campus,” Beelzebub shrugged, “Unless he took him to the old alabaster creek where they used to skinny dip and shag.”

“Oh my, does that bring back memories! I had my fair share of forays on those banks,” Tracy giggled.

Aziraphale let out a small noise of discomfort under his breath as he turned his attention to the parchment map laid out before them, examining the terrain around the perimeter of the campus. 

“Right, Beez, can you mark down all of the places on the campus that you think we’d potentially find them? Depending on how many there are, we may be able to safely split up our forces to stake out each one so that we don’t have to-“

“BITE YER TONGUE!” Sergeant shadwell suddenly shot up from his place at the table and a hefty spray of saliva left his maw with his sudden proclamation. “There be a particular devious force approachin, Mister Fell. A witch and its gaggle of black hearted soldiers of the damned are closin in!” Although this ranting was frantic and difficult to decipher, they were able to discern that his face nodded vaguely in the direction of the door. 

Maggie curiously blinked at him before turning and pulling the door open. She cocked her head, “Oh! My I’m…not quite sure how you kids found us. Um. Selling biscuits for scouts are you?” 

“You see kids at your door and immediately presume we’re part of some organization built on foundations of uplifting the patriarchy and promoting consumerism via the social pressure of appeasing impressionable children? Do you think kids only care to interact with their communities if there’s some junky prize in it for them for selling overpriced treats for a larger corporation who are underpaying bakers to produce them?” A voice asked. Maggie immediately flushed red and raised her hands defensively.

“T-That’s not what I- I-I- mean-“

Anathema instantly took from the table and briskly walked over to stand beside the embarrassed orc. 

“Kids! Wh-how did you find us? What are you doing here? Why did you-“ Anathema immediately began to fire off questions, but just as quick as she started, she suddenly halted and quieted. She was struck with a sudden realization before straightening and frowning. “No.” 

And with that she shut the door.

“Anathema!” Another voice, that was most distinctly belonging to Wensleydale, cried from behind the door. “Come on, please?”

There was another knock as Anathema huffed and backed away from the door. 

“I felt the shift too,” Adam’s voice said simply. “It felt right, like it was supposed to happen. He’s going to try to reverse it.”

“We want to help Mr. Crowley!” Brian chimed in. 

“Guys, please, the last thing I want is for all of you to get hurt,” Anathema heavily sighed. “We’ve got a full enough party as it is.”

There was a quiet chime, followed by the doorknob rattling and the door easily swung a bit open. Anathema blinked in surprise — she was 100% sure she had locked it. Before she could even attempt to close it again, Warlock had pushed through and opened the door the rest of the way, with Adam trailing behind him. 

“I want to return the favor,” he said, his eyes a little saddened. “Do you want our help or not?”

Before Anathema could get out another denial, a hand rested on her tricep. It was steady, but still something in it gave the lightest touch of desperation. She paused and turned to see Aziraphale standing beside her. Carefully his hand left her and he instead slowly sunk lower to the floor, landing on his knees though his stature kept a strength to it. He gave one glance to Anathema then looked back at the Them, as if he were talking to both.

“Please.”

The kids seemed taken aback for a moment—even though they had a feeling of what was happening, it was very rare to see an adult be so sincere in wanting them and not only trusting but pleading for their skills. In a strange way, it was empowering. 

Adam was the first to shake off the feeling and brought his best confident smile to match.

“Of course, Mr. Aziraphale. However we can,” he nodded. The cleric nodded back, his eyes full of pure appreciation. Although it was brief, the Them understood the satisfaction adventurers get from accepting a quest for someone who needed their help, and it may or may not have influenced their decision to form their own guild someday in the future. But for now they wanted to help here. 

“You said you felt some kind of ‘reversal?’ What do you mean?” Nina asked 

“I felt the powers shifting forward, and something is trying to pull them back again,” Adam shrugged. “It’s like fixing the time on a clock by moving the hands backwards.”

Nina’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What’s that-“

“Adam’s star chart was forcibly shifted forward by Lucifer so that he would be ‘blessed’,” Aziraphale explained as he rose back up to his feet and faced his teammate. 

“He also just says odd things sometimes,” Pepper huffed. 

“Yeah, but those odd things are usually true,” Brian shrugged. 

“I denied whatever it was he tried to give me,” Adam continued to explain. “But it doesn’t mean I don’t feel it sometimes.”

“The more things these kids say the more concerned I get,” Maggie muttered under her breath. 

“I don’t feel the hands of the clock grinding anymore, but it’s like I can hear another set of them straining on the other side of the room,” Adam explained. “It started two nights ago, I had a dream of a place that I hadn’t seen since…well…that whole ordeal. I was sitting in the middle of a circular room lined with red curtains and accented with these glittering jewels.”

“Diamonds,” Beelzebub chimed in.

“I mean literally decorating everything with diamonds seems like overkill but-“

“No, I mean. They were diamonds. Actually diamonds. What the kid is describing is Aries’ personal chambers, secret lair of sorts. Crowley told me about it once. He wasn’t allowed there often, it wasn’t a ‘date spot’ per se.”

Aziraphale blinked before making his way back to the table in a few quick strides. “Do you know where it is on the map?” He asked.

Beez slinked up next to the cleric and narrowed their eyes at the map, before pointing to a section in the top left corner. “Behind that gate are their residences, their personal homes. It’s a bit off campus. Being one of the ‘heads’, or conduits, his place is near the center. I’m not 100% sure, but your best bet is there.”

“I see…”

“I wouldn’t go running off now,” Nina warned as she placed a firm hand on Aziraphale’s shoulder. “We need to be smart about this. What if he was expecting this?”

“It feels like it’s way too obvious,” Newt frowned.

“Whether he’s concerned about us right now or not, that bastard has left us in a tough position,” Aziraphale frowned. “I agree we need a plan but…like young Adam said, there’s a clock ticking too.”

He seemed to retreat in on himself for a moment, flipping through a mental catalog of various potentially fatal plans. Having a large team to work with had pros and cons — more manpower was wonderful, but more meant more lives he had to account for, to protect. 

“How good is his constitution?”

“Like a ram,” Beelzebub sighed.

“Could we pass any spells under the radar?”

“Against him? No way. He’d pick up on it instantly.”

“Well what about…brute force?”

“DUMBASS. HE IS THE CONDUIT FOR A CELESTIAL GOD BASICALLY!”

“I am trying to think rationally here!” Aziraphale spat. “I want to form a proper plan so that we all don’t get unnecessarily hurt!”

“The only way to take down a god like him is to be on his equal footing or even above that!” Beez yelled back. “None of us are even close to that level, nor less combined. We can’t fight him! We just need to get Crowley and get out!”

“But the only way to get to him is to get through Lucifer first!”

“I KNOW!”

Beelzebub groaned and angrily turned away, tugging at their hair as Aziraphale collapsed down at the chair sitting in front of the map on the table.

The room was quiet for a moment before Muriel let out an uncomfortable, small cough and sheepishly asked, “Well…do you think there’s any chance Ecliel would help?”

Aziraphale sighed and shook his head, “I love Ecliel, but my years of praise have also come with acceptance that she doesn’t step in.”

“Pssh. Could’ve fooled me,” Beelzebub grumbled. 

“Huh?” Muriel blinked. 

“I mean, a few weeks ago the supposed ‘Ecliel’ and her mortal army was trying to overthrow the world. Don’t tell me you forgot. Anyway that move didn’t exactly scream ‘subtle’,” Beelzebub sniffed.

“Like we’ve already said! That wasn’t Ecliel, it was a god posing to be her! She would never actually want to hurt people!” Muriel huffed.

“…but what if she did,” Aziraphale said.

“Huh? What-“

“None of us are gods, but I mean, one of us kind of-sort of was one just a few weeks ago,” Aziraphale pointed out. 

“Wh-Aziraphale, no,” Anathema frowned. “That was a god using you as a vessel, you don’t have that sort of power anymore. And even if you tried to tap into something like that, I don’t think your body will be able to handle it.”

“Yes, I know,” Aziraphale sighed. “I was trapped underneath a god’s curse.”

“You don’t need to give us a recap of the past month,” Nina frowned. “What are you implying here?”

“You were all able to chip away at him, yes?” Aziraphale prompted. “But the only way to break a god’s curse is to have equal or higher power.”

“Or to use the ‘power of love’ apparently in yours and Crowley's case,” Nina said with all her might being used to suppress an eye roll.

“Actually…no power of love I’m afraid,” Aziraphale said, “Though I’m sure that’s what pushed him to tap into it.”

It took a moment for the realization to settle in. One by one each person's face seemed to react to a different emotion: confusion, disbelief, and shock to name a few. 

“So…Mr. Crowley…” Newt trailed off.

“He broke my halos all by himself,” Aziraphale confirmed, “among other things. During my time in the sort of purgatory host’s encounter while possessed, he did…access me, so to say.”

“Aziraphale there are kids around,” Anathema frowned.

“Not like-! Good heavens, no, not like that!” he huffed. “Even in that dark and strange void, whenever I would look up I was met with the night sky. Constellations and zodiacs like Scorpio, Sagittarius, and Aquila would blink at me. But only one, well two I guess, ever moved,” he explained. “Ophiuchus came close to me once, when I first entered, and comforted my confused spirit. Serpens had detached from its pairing and stayed with me nearly the whole time to keep my spirit grounded, only leaving once it was called to action, I believe. I prayed to those stars — even when I couldn’t remember I trusted and reached out to them.”

Sometimes, when he let his mind wander, Aziraphale still felt the presence of Serpens wrapped around him, as if it was holding him close in a protective manner. Much like how Crowley’s hugs felt, or how he’d be completely wrapped by him after they had a rough night’s sleep. 

A look of realization dawned on Beelzebub’s face. “Oh…oh my gods,” they muttered. “That’s what he was going to present.”

“Pardon?” Aziraphale blinked. 

“At the start of every moon cycle, we held a symposium,” Beez explained. “Crowley was researching something for nearly a year, I half paid attention to all of his ramblings about it because frankly he always sounded a bit nuts whenever he opened his mouth. But I remember he was excited to get a spot to talk to the council at the symposium about it, Lucifer helped arrange it. But the week before, his tune changed and a challenge was declared for a formal fight.”

The dark elf sighed as they scratched the back of their neck, trying to properly gather their memories. This even happened decades ago, and had nearly become a myth and a story that would spread amongst the students and was kept like a dark secret between the faculty on campus. Very few remembered or would admit the truth anymore.

“They fought, and the entire wing of the school was lost in the fire, and Crowley ran away. I suppose you all know the rest from here,” Beelzebub said before glancing vaguely upwards, “Still though…if all this is true, then Crowley is literally riding the line between becoming a full fledged zodiac…that imbecile becoming a literal God of sorts.”

“But…he’s not a god,” Newt pointed out, “Why didn’t it work back when he discovered it?”

“I don’t think it’s a matter of failing,” Aziraphale said as he tapped his chin, “More…resisting. Holding it back. Keeping it at bay,”

“Like he helped me do,” Adam added. 

“Can’t our lives ever be normal?” Nina heavily sighed in disbelief. 

“If I’m understanding correctly,” Maggie started, “does that mean Mr. Crowley is the one who is going to have to fight?”

“But wouldn’t he have done that already?” Muriel frowned. 

“Not necessarily,” Aziraphale sighed, “From what I’ve gathered, this Lucifer fellow has quite the history with Crowley. Even after so much time there may be residual trauma responses and fears associated with him.” 

He looked over to Muriel and smiled softly, “Think about it, do you think you could easily defeat one of the clergymen back at our old parish?”

Muriel bit the inside of their cheek nervously. Of course they had turned their back on the church as an establishment while still praising the same gospel, but their history and upbringing still remained a strange dynamic. Even though they knew they were strong, just imagining that change in the power dynamic was strange. 

“Point taken,” they frowned, “So he’s the only one who can fight…but he won’t…” 

“We have to help him fight and give him that push to finish what he started,” Aziraphale hummed. “Which means we have to find him, and based on what we know, it’s at those secret chambers.”

“These past few weeks are starting to make a lot more sense now,” Nina muttered. “I thought he was just being weird because he was acting like a mother hen over you and wasn’t getting any sleep or a proper break.”

At her words, Aziraphale’s features softened sadly and wistfully. Although he was aware Crowley had been fussing over him during his recovery, he truly wasn’t cognizant for the full extent of it. He wanted desperately to feel better, to show his husband that all of his care had been effective and healed him fully. And most of all, he wanted to say thank you. 

And so, while it may have seemed slightly counterintuitive, Aziraphale made a pledge to himself then and there that he would show his appreciation and the result of Crowley’s hard work, even if it was the last thing he did. And if he wasn’t leaving with his husband, he wouldn’t leave at all, regardless of what any prophecy said. 

“Everyone,” he started, “thank you all for everything. I really do appreciate your help. This situation is reaching its fever pitch though, so I want to make this clear now; if you want to back out, now is the time to do it. There is no shame or weakness, it’s simply a matter of personal protection and safety. I don’t want to risk others getting needlessly hurt on my watch. So, take a moment, really think. If you’d really be willing to help then…gather around the table.”

With that, Aziraphale gazed around the room and smiled. Afterall, even though he had no intention of dying, he was aware of the possibility and made sure for the sake of those that would leave that their last image of him would be positive. He gave one final nod before ducking into the next room to grab a few more supplies. Just as he bent down for the first bundle, he heard the sounds of bustling and moving in the other room, doors opening and closing. His breath caught in a dry patch of sadness stationed in his throat, though he eventually breathed out with the satisfaction that although people were leaving, they would be safe. 

He gathered up the rest of what he planned on taking and walked out, ready to take in any potential remaining manpower and make a plan. However, he was surprised to see nearly everyone still gathered. The door on the far side of the room swung open to reveal the kids having gone to retrieve more chairs before pushing them up to accommodate. 

“…you’re all…are you sure you want to stay?” He asked in disbelief.

“We’ve taken down a god once, what’s one more,” Nina shrugged smugly. 

“Exactly! Why would we back down now? Especially when Mr. Crowley is in danger?” Maggie smiled

Aziraphale felt warm as he felt the love emanating from his teammates and their friends. Oh, if only who could see how many truly did care. 

“Thank you, really,” he hummed as he approached the table. “We’re running on limited time here, so we need to plan a quick way over there, okay?”

~~~~~~

“Oi, Raph,” Beez huffed as they dropped a pile of mail on their roommate’s desk. “You’ve been forgetting to pick up your mail for the past week.”

“Uh huh,” Raphael nodded as she continued to scribble in her notebook and paging through calendars and sheets of paper. 

“Have you even left for class at all? I mean, you’re usually here when I get back from my clubs and I wake up early, but, still.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry about it,” Raphael waved off. 

Beez groaned in annoyance and walked off to leave their roommate. They decided to just leave her to her nonsense and instead focus on their studying for the night. 

Late in the evening, Raphael heavily sighed and leaned back in her chair, stretching out the knots in her neck and back from sitting still for multiple hours. The moonlight was gently shimmering through the window over her bed, and the silence was occasionally cut by the odd snore from the elf. Her eyes drifted over to the pile of mail the dark elf had dropped haphazardly. Biting her lip, she picked up the envelopes and rifled through them. 

Celestial observer subscription…letter from her mother…random spam…

She stopped at a slightly larger envelope — it had a bit of a heft to it, and was carefully sealed with wax. Gold was lightly dusted on the design in the seal, making the twin horns shimmer under her lamp light. There was no return address, and just simply had her name and dorm number written on the back. 

Humming to herself, Raphael lightly tossed the other letters back on her desk and leaned back in her chair, turning the envelope around in her hands. She grinned to herself. 

“Finally.”

Although all projects were supposed to be debuted at the symposium, Raphael of course wanted to give a pre-release demonstration to their mentor. If what she discovered was correct, this could change their understanding of zodiacs altogether. Though given her position, she thought it incredibly sweet and ironically fitting that the hidden Ophiuchus was nestled into Aries, companion to the ram as she was to Lucifer. 

She popped open the letter excitedly and only needed to read the words “I accept” before she began to pack her bag in a flurry that caused Beelzebub to stir, though luckily not wake. Multiple notebooks, charts, scrap papers with spontaneous notes, and more were stuffed into her carrier bag before she quietly slipped out of the dorm room and headed to the meeting point — the observatory. 

Raphael wasted no time pasting up her research materials before waiting nervously, only finding slight comfort each time she tilted her head skyward and reaffirmed her discovery by tracing the new constellation with her gaze. 

The sound of the heavy door swinging open snapped her out of her mild panic and she instead stood straight and proud.

“Luci, thank you for coming. I know you’re busy right now with-“

“Never too busy for you, darling,” he purred as he glided over and took her arm. Carefully he began kissing up its length, though Raphael just blushed and gently pulled away.

“I-I’d like to show you my findings. Could you sit over there in that chair please?” She asked.

“Mmmm,” Lucifer hummed as he circled around her. “Everything in time, lamb. I’ve had a long day, I need to refill,” he reached out and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer to his body. 

“L-Lucifer, please-“ Raphael whined, “After, okay? This won’t take long, I promise. We can do…that after.”

Lucifer kept his steely gaze as he tried to keep control over the situation, but Raphael’s pouting made him sigh and relent. 

“Okay, okay, fine. I know you’ve been working very hard on this. Go ahead and wow me,” he grinned. He gently kissed the top of her forehead before pulling away and taking a seat in a chair she had set up earlier. 

Raphael beamed and immediately ran over to her display of maps. Her heart was pounding with adrenaline and nervousness. 

“O-okay! Before I get started, I want you to look up — what do you see up there?”

“Lamb, you know-“

“Humor me, please?” she pleaded as she batted her eyelashes. Lucifer huffed out a laugh and glanced up. 

“Well, I see Libra, Scorpius, and Sagittarius,” he said simply. 

“Ah, yes! Of course!” She grinned. “Three of the twelve major signs and integral parts of our calendar. They represent the end of the year, as the sun passes through when the nights are their shortest. However, I want you to look more closely at what’s nestled in between them.”

Lucifer narrowed his eyes and scanned the sky. There were a few smaller constellations there, such as Aquila, Scutum, and Sagitta. And just slightly above Scorpius was the body of Serpens and the man who tamed it. 

“Just some minor groups,” he shrugged. 

“Yes! There’s so many brothers and sisters being protected by those on the ecliptic,” Raphael continued as she approached her papers, flipping them to show the path of the sun with a lot of modifying lines surrounding it, as well as a note sheet covered in math. “I have talked with my classmates a lot, and we have all shared a mutual frustration that our fluctuation cycle seems to be around 16-20 days off its proper rotation. I have been tracking mine ever since I have been aware of it, and I have consistently reached my peak in the winter earlier than I should be. We generally understand the ecliptic to look like this-“ she said as she pointed to the diagram, “-but after intensive observations and math, it turns out our understanding is off by a few degrees!”

She felt a burst of manic energy as she was reaching the exciting part. Lucifer had gone silent and was leaning forward in his chair, watching her closely. Grinning to herself, she flipped the papers again to show a larger diagram of the zodiac circle paired with the ecliptic — however, a new symbol was placed between Scorpius and Sagittarius. 

“We understand that the sun is what causes these power fluctuations, and with those who are fire inclined experiencing a slightly different cycle, and our current ecliptic line being off by a few degrees, what does that mean? Well, -“ she slapped her hand against the sheet right next to the new symbol, “- what if I was to tell you that we have had 13 leads all along!”

Between her manic explanation and frantic movements between diagrams, Raphael only then realized that she was out of breath; panting and flushed red in the cheeks. In fact, her entire form numbed and tingled, no doubt from the burst of adrenaline. However, it would only take one more breath to finish, and so she gulped a large breath of air and proudly said, “Lucifer, I-“

“No.”

Her exhale retreated back into her throat suddenly. Lucifer’s voice was strange now, it didn’t seem to have come from his mouth but rather reverberated around from every point of his aura encompassing them both. She was startled and rattled, only able to move her mouth wordlessly as the feeling wore off. 

“B-But…” she mumbled as she gestured vaguely to a star chart, “it’s here-“

She didn’t see him move and instead only first registered his action by the harsh ripping and shredding of her hard work. The fractured remnants of the past year of her life fluttered to the floor like harmless snow at Lucifer’s feet as he stared at the empty board now nearly devoid of anything that once resembled paper. 

“Forget this. You’re entirely wrong, lamb. You foolish little thing,” he seethed as he turned to her. She’d hardly even registered the situation yet, but tears were inevitable once her sorrow caught up to her shock. “There are 12 zodiac signs, that’s all. And I am one of them, don’t ever forget your place.”

With that, Lucifer turned back towards the doorway and began to leave, swaying across the floor rhythmically and gracefully as if nothing had happened. And all at once he was using his own lips to speak again with a much more casual tone, “It’s a good thing you practiced that with me, dear. You would’ve made a fool of yourself if you’d’ve presented that at the symposium. See if you can throw together a real project in the next week, or else drop out, why don’t you?”

He didn’t look at her, only instead hearing the pitiful, soft “plop” as her knees weakened and she dropped to the floor. Raphael reached out to the pile of her research, torn and tarnished, and scooped up a few stray strands. Before she could contemplate fixing it, the pile ignited along with the strips in her hands, scorching her flesh as she scrambled back. 

“Forget it,” Lucifer scolded again, giving particular emphasis to the “t’s” of the phrase, “If you can’t, I will make you forget.”

He still didn’t look at her, but all he heard was her quiet sniffles and her trembling breath. After no more sounds, he sighed contently and stepped forward to continue out the door.

However, Raphael wasn’t content.

Her loyalty had been to Lucifer surely, but she couldn’t deny her own personal energy and effort invested in this project. This was big, her magnum opus, and now it was ash. The disrespect, the hard work wasted, the belittling and suffering, it all crashed down at once. With nothing left to lose, she didn’t care about scolding or punishment. She was furious, and came to one final decision that she didn’t know would change her life forever. She shot back up to her feet and wiped the tears from her eyes. With a growl she turned and faced Lucifer as he reached the door to the exit. 

“I challenge you to a duel by fire!” she spat, her words feeling like venom on her tongue. “I’ll prove to you that I’m right! You, me, and only the stars to back us up!”

Lucifer froze, his hands on the door handle. In an instant, the metal was crushed and bent under his grip.

“You’re smarter than this, lamb,” he said through clenched teeth. “Think about what you’re asking. I am the conduit for your celestial power, child. You really think biting the hand that feeds you will solve your disillusioned little temper tantrum?” 

“I’ve already called the duel. You know the rules, name a time,” she hissed. 

“I could put you in your place right now-“

“The rules,” Raphael snapped, enunciating the words harshly, “call for a battle past dusk.” 

“You really won’t let this go,” he groaned. “Fine. You have until dusk tonight to realize you’re challenging the arms dealer to a shootout and to call this off.”

“I’ll see you on the stage,” Raphael said plainly as she kept a steely gaze on the ram. The other man didn’t say another word, instead glaring daggers straight into her, before slipping out of the observatory and slamming the door behind him. 

It was like she deflated, how quickly Raphael released the breath she didn’t know she was holding and collapsed to the ground on her knees again. She let herself fall back the rest of the way, her gaze turning up towards the stars once again. The constellations of Ophiucus and Serpens seemed to shine just a bit brighter as she acknowledged their presence. 

Even if he happens to prevent the physical zodiac of Aries to let her into its shared power, she still felt confident at her chances. He has no control over that in which she could claim for herself. 

If Raphael was just a little bit less angry or upset, her unhealthily developed reliance and subservience to Lucifer may have kicked in and triggered her learned response; suck it up. But not now, not when something she was so passionate about was dashed before her eyes. She had no regard for any potential ramifications for her actions, only the immediate road ahead. With fury she stomped back to her dorm room, threw open the door, and pulled her spellbooks and studying materials off of her shelf. With a snap of her fingers they set themselves up on her desk perfectly for optimal studying and plopped down with a hearty sigh. The loud and emotional entrance had caused her roommate to stir and wake up, glancing over at the commotion. 

Now, Beelzebub normally didn’t care of course, but they were still nosy. And the fact that Raphael came in all huffy and obviously emotional while NOT ranting and tea-spilling was beyond tempting. Rarely would they ask for Raphael to speak because it was hard enough to get her to stop, but they couldn’t resist.

“What crawled up your butt?” Beelzebub asked, trying to sound nonchalant. 

Raphael only grunted and tapped her foot furiously a few times before huffing, “You said you wanted my Madame Rosaria ceramax crystal ball if I died, yeah? If there’s anything else you want me to add to the will for you, let me know.”

Beelzebub sat up a little in alarm. Usually they were the one who made jokes in that vain, but they tried to keep their surprise a little subdued. It was far too early to be considering all of this, as the night could still be seen through the windows. “Your combat boots,” they said simply. 

“Got it,” the tiefling nodded as she pulled over her notebook and started writing and rifling through other papers. 

Now that they were fully awake, Beelzebub slowly started to go through the motions of their morning routine as Raphael worked at her desk, her whole body rigid. The air surrounding her was filled with negative and angry energy. 

This energy did not waver as the sun started to rise and Beelzebub grabbed their stuff to head to class. Standing near the doorway, they bit their lip and looked over at their roommate. 

“…did something happen?”

“A duel was called, me and Lucifer. Dusk, galley A,” Raphael grumbled.

Beelzebub stiffened and blinked, replayed the sentence in their head, and blinked again. 

“Why the- why would he challenge you to a duel?!” Beelzebub asked in an uncharacteristic moment of dropping their cool demeanor from the stark shock. 

“He didn’t,” Raphael answered simply, “I did.”

“Do you have a death wish?!” Beelzebub gasped. Raphael still seemed so nonchalant, focused on her materials and turned away. She hardly even acknowledged her roommate when they’d hopped out of bed when the sun rose and went through the motions of their routine, and now didn’t even notice as they approached and bent down beside the desk, “Seriously, what’s gotten into you Raph?”

“He burned my research.”

Raphael’s eyes flicked around as she glanced at the papers strewn across the desk. Many of them were now covered in his frantic manic scribbles that could barely be classified as writing. 

“That work was my soul,” she said simply. “Everything that I am, written in clean ink. I laid it bare to him with hope for approval, and he snatched it and burnt it right in front of me. I’m loyal to him, but I also am loyal to myself, and I do not let myself get burned.”

Beelzebub blinked as they watched Raphael deflate a little, a frown etched on her face as she refused to make eye contact with them. 

“You’re one of his kin,” the dark elf reminded. “He can block you out. He can get the others to block you out too.”

“I’m not concerned about that,” Raphael sighed. “I have a plan. I just…”

Finally, it seemed that her walls were finally starting to crumble as her reserve fell apart and emotions flooded in. She sniffed and bowed her head. 

“I’m going to m-miss you…” she sputtered. “I’m going to miss all of this. I…” She paused as she shivered, pulling up a hand to rub at her eye. “I can’t stay. I-if I live, no matter the results, I can’t stay.”

Beelzebub was entirely unequipped to deal with feelings, both their own but especially the emotions of a spastic roommate. Not only that, but they’d never seen Raphael like this, this upset and this devastated. But even all emotional components aside, from a completely logical position this situation was hopeless.

Awkwardly Beelzebub extended their hand and laid their palm gently on Raphael’s back. Even through her breakdown, the sudden physical touch from Beelzebub was enough of a surprise that her breath hitched for a moment before devolving into a frustrated mix of sobs and gasps. 

There were really no words that could help, no advice or encouragement that wouldn’t be pointedly false. Instead Beelzebub just tried to mutter reassurances of “you’ll be okay” without any actual basis for the sentiment. Raphael did what a person in her situation was supposed to do; cry. And she continued to cry, even as the sobs died to whimpers, but she didn’t run or even entertain the thought of going back on her challenge or backing down. 

Once it seemed she had calmed down enough that Beez wasn’t incredibly concerned for her, the elf awkwardly patted the top of her head. 

“I have to head to class, but look, I’ll be frank. I am excited to watch you beat his ass,” they grinned. “It’s a long time coming, honestly. You better give it your best shot, because I’ll be watching and if you don’t, I’ll make fun of you for it.”

Their comment made the tiefling emit a snort and grin, which satisfied Beelzebub enough to finally slip out of the room.

That was the last thing they ever said to each other, and for the longest time they’d assumed that was the last thing they’d ever get to say. 

Somehow gossip spread. While Beelzebub was already distracted by their own concern for Raphael, the constant whispering from classmates who were speaking about the duel certainly wasn’t helping. The class seemed to stretch on forever, but once the bell rang and the students let out, it suddenly changed to feeling all too short. 

The orange sun just barely peaked over the horizon, and many students, including Beelzebub, went right to the battlefield. They’d almost hoped to see the match called off or Raphael having forfeited, but no luck. They pushed their way to the front of the crowd only to see the two figures standing on opposite sides of the dueling grounds.

“Raphael. This isn’t funny anymore. Give up, now.”

The disgruntled thought echoed with a forceful intrusion into Raphael’s mind. She winced in annoyance as the sound grated her ears. Shifting her feet, Raphael sturdied her stance as she glared at the man. 

“No,” she sent back through the link with as much force as she could muster. “This isn’t a game, especially not to me. If you’re so afraid, you can back down.”

The reaction from the ram was immediate as his anger flared up in annoyance, the emotions seeping into the aura surrounding the field. 

“Calling for a battle against your conduit? A bold choice. A stupid choice,” he spat out loud, his voice putting strong emphasis on the word stupid, making the descriptor cut through the air like a dagger.

Inside her mouth, Raphael’s teeth ground together. Her fist clenched so hard it almost hurt the skin that was stretched white around her knuckles and stung the areas of skin where her nails dug into her palm. 

“Evidently I’ve made a lot of stupid choices while I’ve been here,” she growled lowly. A few of the spectating students let out quiet gasps. Afterall, even though there was much more to her, Raphael was mainly known as Lucifer’s protege. Seeing her challenge him was shocking enough, but now outwardly mocking and defying? That was a spectacle. 

Lucifer fumed. The grass at his feet began to singe and smoke. With a swift and fluid motion, he tore off his usual robes, leaving only a much lighter set of still quite elegant fabrics covering his form. It looked to be some sort of beautiful, ornate uniform, the shimmering, slightly sheer fabric covering him in light reds, oranges, and yellows. “If I decide to be kind and allow you to live, you will be groveling at my feet tonight. Even if I sever your spine and leave you paralyzed, you will remain to kiss my boots to repent for this idiocy, lamb.”

Raphael rolled her head and shoulders, popping out a few cricks in an attempt to prepare herself. Outwardly, she looked disinterested in his rage — she looked calm and prepared. On the inside, however, she was full of panic as she tried to stretch her essence and grab onto what she needed. Before the man even spoke, she felt that he had blocked her out from her main celestial source, and also seemed to have convinced the other heads to do the same as well to prevent her from accessing any backups. 

“You’re saying that as if you’re confident you’re going to win,” she hummed as she looked at her nails in an attempt to keep the outward persona going. 

Lucifer barked out a laugh. “Like you’re going to be able to do anything? Ha! Like I’d let you!”

Raphael’s eye twitched in annoyance. With one last desperate burst, she felt a click within her soul. 

Bingo. 

She smirked as she felt a sense of pride. 

“Oh really?”

Fully turning to face him, Raphael held her head up high and smiled at him. Her eyes had this wild and manic look to them.

“When all others have abandoned me, I can still prove my bond with the sky,” she said as she released her stiffness and instead took a deep breath. Her eyelids shut gently and her fingers extended skyward. 

All at once she felt a sensation that had been but a faint memory, but now returned renewed and reinvigorated. It was the same connection and tingling she felt as a child on her rooftop when the stars reached back to her outstretched hands. Raphael smiled, and a solitary tear slipped down her cheek. 

Finally, she finished her presentation.

“Lucifer, I’d like to introduce you to the 13th zodiac, Ophiuchus.”

Over the many months studying the constellations, Raphael had developed a sort of kinship with it, though it was purely built from fascination and a pseudo-mutual regard that stemmed from her energy investment. But once the words left her lips an entirely different bonding sensation struck her like a 6 foot steel bolt driven directly through her body. 

She faltered for a moment as the energy seemed to spread to extend to every part of her body, overwhelming her senses with a light coating of stardust. Through the fog that seemed to cover her thoughts, with what she could muster she snapped to attention, holding back the excess like a dam so she could keep her focus. 

This new and unfamiliar energy seemed to wave off of her and crackle in the air, causing the bystanders to shiver and step back, and for Lucifer’s eyebrow to twitch as he growled. He was feeling a shift in the total power and shared presence of the bearers push against his soul, demanding for more room so it could be let in. It had squeezed its way through his reserve like a snake through a hole in the wall. 

Not wanting to allow her a moment longer to settle, Lucifer was the first to launch an attack directly at her. 

She reacted swiftly as her hand swung upwards. Instead of dodging, the power concentrated into her palm, and with one swift move she batted the attack off course. 

Jaws dropped in the crowd. Some students even began to cheer or rave without thinking about how it may have come off as disrespectful to their head master. Still though, they were held suspended in awe as Raphael pulled her elbows in, grunted, and pushed out a 10 foot flood of flames. 

Lucifer was frozen in shock for just a few seconds — a few seconds too many as some of the flames licked against his cheek and caused his skin to prickle. But he quickly regained control and spun his arms in a wide half-circle, gaining control of the flames and redirecting them around himself. 

“All this time!” Raphael yelled. “All this time you had a kin you refused to acknowledge! We’ve been wrong all along!”

She stomped her foot into the dirt and dragged it, kicking up dirt. The particles began to pop and burn, as a cloud of smoke enveloped them, the embers burning so white they nearly looked like snow.

The crowd frenzied, struggling and clamoring over each other to try and see through the smoke and haze. However they were only able to catch the aftermath, it seemed, terribly scorched patches of lawn or a stray spray of molten sparks. 

The two continued their furious clash, and although Raphael was aware of fatigue that her body should naturally feel from fighting, a new strength seemed to be sprouting and spreading like heat in her veins. 

Back to back to back, Raphael dodged and blocked an onslaught of flames. The smallest flicker in her periphery and she’d spin, brace, and power through. She was keeping ahead of attacks at first when at once she saw just the slightest movement of yellow and maneuvered to deflect it. Just as her palm made contact though, she realized what the small bead of light truly was: a delayed blast fireball.

The spec erupted beautifully and violently, petals of flame blossoming outward in a burning peony. All Raphael could do was brace and try to protect herself as she was overtaken violently and thrown to the ground. 

Her back and head slammed violently against the hard dirt, and for a moment her weakness caught up to her. Her world spun. She stared upwards through the swirling smoke and embers to the distant sky shining down on her, though she was struggling to see it then as her eyes began to water and burn. It must��ve been from the soot in her eyes, right? 

With significant strain and shaking she raised her hand over her face. It certainly felt wrong, and after making contact with that last attack she frankly wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d been left with no hand at all. However, through her blurry vision she was able to make out her hand and fingers, though they certainly seemed worse for wear—singed black entirely. Probably burnt to a crisp.

All she could hear was the pounding of her heart in her ears and her desperate heavy pants as she tried to breathe through the smoke. Attempting to move her fingers felt strange and foreign, as if she was wearing thick gloves that were simultaneously caked in dry mud, the skin crackling and scraping against each other with the movement. 

The world was blurry, the colors around shifting — her senses were incredibly overwhelmed, making it difficult to think and focus. There was a choir, screaming and singing, begging, but all she wanted was to shut them out and sleep. 

Why was she here? She tried to gain control of her thoughts and memories as other presences kept pushing against her mind. 

A blast of fire to her left, bringing her a brief moment of clarity as she desperately scrambled to her feet to run off, stumbling as she struggled with her balance. Her mouth felt dry and abnormal, as if her teeth were slightly too big and she couldn’t make them fit. 

The large angry presence that she could just barely sense was still, seemingly standing and watching as she desperately tried to make sense of everything around her.

Everything grew to a fever pitch, abnormally bright and loud and alarming. Her body felt hotter and heavier, while her lungs felt smaller and smaller with each breath. A rush of berating stimuli blended with the sudden internal and overwhelming sensation was enough to make her feel sick. In a panicked flurry of fear and pain, she made a last ditch attempt to finish the duel. 

With a piercing screech, Raphael became an inferno. Scorching winds licked by a golden flame rushed upwards and threw students to the floor. At the center of amber and auburn she burned like a wick. With a flourish of her hands she cast out a magical spray of grease towards her shadowed opponent, creating long sprays and flecks of hot oil spreading out from her flame.

She couldn’t tell if the attack made contact, but a sudden blast of anger and pain emanating from the shadow told her more than enough. There were roars from the anger and from the flames surrounding her, screaming and singing, their indecipherable words filled with celestial energy. 

Her arms feeling heavy, she covered her ears and blocked out all contact, before she sharply turned and blindly started to run in the direction her soul told her to follow. She focused all of the energy she had left on the run, to her legs, to the will to just keep moving as flames danced around her ankles and trailed behind her like sparks. 

‘I don’t think you won,’ the wind seemed to whisper in her mind. ‘This is more like…an interlude.’

Time passing wasn’t something she actively processed. Finally, everything gave out as she collapsed against a tree and fell into soft dewy grass that tickled her skin and cooled her burns. 

Where to now?

~~~~~~

“You know, if Crowley really is a zodiac or a pseudo-zodiac, or like a conduit or whatever, I bet the inferno came from him,” Beelzebub mused to themself. 

“Huh?” Newt asked. 

“Well for years the story was that Lucifer killed Raph-Oop, I mean, Crowley with that final blast of fire during the battle. It wasn’t until Lucifer himself told me in private that he wasn’t dead that I even knew he escaped the blaze. But now…I’m wondering if the blaze came from him. It was incredibly powerful, yet uncontrollable. That’s why the old battle arena and surrounding school buildings burned. See?”

Beelzebub pointed forward from their perched hiding spot. Newt traced their direction to a more secluded spot on the school campus that looked like nothing more than singed ruins. It was hidden behind the current buildings, though they could see it well enough from their hiding spot from the perimeter of the campus. 

“Lucifer always took credit for that attack. But it just never felt like him, I guess,” they shrugged. 

“Crowley can do it again. And even better this time, I bet,” Aziraphale huffed as his eyes scanned the old forgotten battleground sadly, “Where’s Lucifer’s sanctum then?”

“Just over that hill,” Beelzebub said simply as they tilted their head to the right. “Just a bit off of the main campus you can find the housing of all of the zodiac conduits. They’re placed in calendar order, so if I remember correctly Aries should be in the middle. Honestly, with how hoitytoity they are, who’s place is whose will be pretty obvious.”

“Do we just…break in or…” Maggie said hesitantly. “Like what kind of defenses are we going to be going up against?”

“As much as we’re preparing for a large battle, this is going to be a stalling match for most of you,” Aziraphale said as he looked back towards the gathered group, “It’s best to avoid a conflict for as long as we can, so we need to be inconspicuous. What is more inconspicuous at a school than children? Gifted ones at that,” Aziraphale smiled as he looked back at the Them. His gaze stalled on Adam with that same pleading but confident look, “Adam, I’ll need you to try to cast a spell. It’s a difficult spell, frankly. But I know you can do it. Are you willing to try?”

“Willing and determined,” Adam smiled. Aziraphale returned his grin before pulling out a small letter from his bag — a familiar letter with the infamous rams horn wax seal. Aziraphale blew on his middle finger, index, and thumb before holding the letter back together and touching the seal. All at once it seemed to reform, once again intact. 

“If you show an invite with his formal insignia, you should be able to get to Lucifer’s house,” Aziraphale winked.

Adam gave a hearty nod and went to take the paper, though Aziraphale drew it back. “Wait, before we do this, I really need to ask, are you comfortable with this Adam? I know you want to help, but Lucifer personally hurt you. I don’t want to put you in a situation with him where you feel uncomfortable or scared or unsafe.”

“Well…” Adam hesitated for a moment as he thought about it. The thoughts turned in his head, before making eye contact with Aziraphale and beamed. “If I’m honest, I never really physically met the guy. Sure, he kinda messed with me, but I didn’t let him win, right? And I won’t let him win again! I’ve got my friends with me, I can out smart him. Right?”

Aziraphale smiled. While, sure, he could see some nervousness through Adam’s posture, clearly there was some true confidence in his faith. From his time tutoring him, Aziraphale knew that Adam was truly talented at magic and was able to pull off some powerful spells if he put his mind to it, or combined his effort with his friends.

Aziraphale regarded him proudly and gave Adam a quick supportive pat on the shoulder before turning to the rest of the kids. “This role should keep you all out of harm's way as much as possible, but it’s still incredibly important. Young Warlock, do you think you could conjure a few uniforms for you and your friends to blend in?”

Warlock perked up automatically before quickly remembering he was a preteen and wanted to appear cool. “Psssh. Without breaking a sweat,” he hummed smugly. Warlock began to stretch out partially; twisting his torso on a hip pivot to crack his back, stretching his arms and bending his fingers. It was completely unnecessary in physical terms, but very vital to the novice magician still. With one last cracking of his neck and a flourish, the Them’s clothes transformed to match the zodiac school’s uniform, complete with a matching vest for Dog with the school’s logo embroidered on. 

While the imitation uniforms were spot on, there was one small issue. 

“If you don’t take me out of this skirt and give me the pants right now I’m going to sock you,” Pepper frowned. 

“I’d have to use another spell slot thoughhh,” Warlock whined.

“One less spell slot or a broken nose. Your choice,” she said. With a huff, Warlock cast the spell again, with much less grandeur and showmanship this time, and Pepper was given the same pants as the other kids. 

“Thank you,” she said in a voice that was not grateful, but satisfied at least. 

Beelzebub smirked at the interaction. They’d had a similar one when first attending the school. The only difference was that their opponent did not relent before the nose breaking and Beelzebub did get a two weeks of required service assigned to repent for said breaking of the other person’s nose. Still though, they were content cleaning classrooms and taking out garbage while wearing their trousers. 

“You all look wonderful,” Aziraphale hummed. “You can all go ahead, scope out the area and see if you can get in. The rest of us will not be far behind.”

“Make sure to use Send Messages once you guys have an idea on where the chambers are,” Anathema reminded. “And to let us know that you’re safe. Okay?”

The Them curtly nodded in quiet understanding. With a grin, Adam encouraged Dog to start running down the hill towards the campus, allowing the others an excuse to excitedly follow. 

“I suppose that means we should start splitting up into teams, right?” Maggie guessed. “You…you do have some form of a plan past this, yeah?”

“Of course, dear girl,” Aziraphale nodded as he looked to Beelzebub, “We’ll be splitting our forces. Beelzebub will be taking Tracy, Shadwell, and Maggie. We’ll need you all to be hubs of distraction — cause scenes and make trouble to limit the amount of available forces to interfere with the central attack. As for the rest of us, we’ll be tucked into a Demiplane and waiting for Adam to infiltrate Lucifer’s sanctum. Once he reopens the plane, Muriel, Nina, Anathema, and I will try to rescue Crowley. And Newt, we need your abilities to protect the kids, especially Adam after he casts the spell — it may be especially draining for him. Keep them safe.”

“This should help,” Anathema hummed as she snapped, instantly changing Newt’s clothes to resemble the faculty so that he would blend in a bit easier. 

“Just make sure to keep yourself low and under the radar,” Aziraphale reminded. “Watch for any signals.”

“Do not try to fight,” Beelzebub stated. “Student magic is a bit wild and untamed, and the faculty are incredibly well trained. Got it?”

“Understood,” the others nodded. 

“Right then, thank you all again for this. No time to doddle,” Aziraphale sighed as he straightened and stood. He turned to the space beside him bare of obstructions and took a long, deep breath before holding out his hands. Within his mind, tendrils began to twist and dance out to the ether, until snapping together a telekinetic connection with Adam that went one step deeper from communicating to entirely sharing sensations.

“Adam…watch closely now, this is the spell I’ll need you to replicate when you reach Lucifer’s domain,” Aziraphale thought. The feeling of his outstretched palms radiated and reached Adam like an afterimage. The tips of Aziraphale’s fingers began to glow a brilliant white, and for a moment it almost appeared like a bright band flickered in front of his face too before disappearing. An unseen wind blew through, whipping up the leaves and clothing of everyone nearby. Out from the underside of Aziraphale’s soles, a shadowy dancing of dark fog slipped through and rolled in, concentrating in front of him before the wind funneled it upwards into a taller and rectangular silhouette. As the smog concentrated, Aziraphale reached out with his illuminated hands and clutched his hand around a bare area in front of the door, only when he did, a golden doorknob that wasn’t there prior was present and allowed him to actually open the door. 

On the other side was a small room, decorated cobblestone flooring and wooden walls. It was admittedly cozy, though the small size and lack of any other windows or doors was off putting. 

“Memorize this Adam. It should be easy for you to remember this,” Aziraphale hummed.

“…it looks just like home,” he heard Adam’s voice meekly answer with a hint of joy and giddiness. The spell had allowed Aziraphale to make the plan resemble what he desired, within the bounds of physics and the constraints of only floor to ceiling aesthetics, but because Adam would need to effectively remember the characteristics of someone else’s Demiplane to connect to it, he to thought it clever to make it naturally resemble somewhere familiar for the young boy. 

“Of course,” Aziraphale hummed. “When you need to escape, just think of home, okay? We’ll be waiting there for you.”

“Thank you Mr. Fell,” Adam answered earnestly. “We should be approaching the building soon. Me or Warlock will update you as soon as we learn anything.”

“Thank you, boys,” Aziraphale nodded before taking another long breath and finishing his work. The frame of the door pulsed and as he rubbed his fingers down the smooth frame. It was stable, it would definitely hold them safely. He was more worried about leaving. 

“Well then, all that’s left to do is finish this,” he sighed before turning back to the doorway. However, as his gaze lingered on it, he stood still for an uncomfortably prolonged period before biting his lip. 

“Perhaps…maybe we need more forces on the outside, holding other people back. I’ll enter the Demiplane alone,” he said, facing away from the others.

“What?” Nina blinked before frowning, “That’s just stupid. I mean, you already made the other plan, why are we changing it last second? Plus leaving you all alone to distract Lucifer and save Crowley seems ineffective, full offense. If he has a single guard or aid, you’ll be completely outnumbered.”

“Not to mention the rest of the plan makes less sense. I mean, if Newt doesn’t emerge from Adam’s end of the Demiplane with you, how is he going to protect the Them?” Anathema added.

“It’s just…there’s a hitch with this plan. If Adam can't connect to the Demiplane, I can’t reopen it from inside. Unless someone else recreates and imagined it perfectly, all those trapped inside can never escape and are trapped in an inescapable room,” Aziraphale muttered as he continued to stare into the conjured room. 

“Wh…why didn’t you consider that in the plan earlier??” Nina gawked. “That feels like a very major thing to consider.”

“And leave you to be the one lost in the plane? Are you stupid?” Anathema frowned. “You said you can’t reopen it from the inside. Why not wait on the outside?”

“Because either circumstance wouldn’t work out!” Aziraphale huffed in frustration. “Either I get lost there, but the rest of you are safe and maybe something can be figured out, maybe, hopefully, at least you and the kids will be unharmed. Or if you’re there instead of me and it doesn’t work and I cannot fathom the idea of you all getting lost forever if I also happen to fail at casting the spell. Or…or you’re there, and the spell works as intended and the kids are protected and he is confronted, but I am not there and cannot be of assistance, and quite possibly-“

“I think you may be misjudging the situation and overthinking things,” Anathema spoke up. 

“You don’t need to be there Mr. Fell,” Newt quickly interrupted after her. 

“Yes I do!” he snapped back as he finally turned around to face them, keeping his grip on the door. “T-this isn’t my ego talking dear boy, but I need to be there.”

“But…why?” Muriel frowned, “Do you not think we can rescue Mr. Crowley?”

“N-not at all,” Aziraphale mumbled as his posture slumped and he deflated, “I just…I need to be there. For him. And…perhaps for me too I suppose.”

“What do you mean?” Muriel asked. Aziraphale sheepishly bit his lip and looked down. He hated to admit it, but there had been something antagonizing him. 

“I’m upset that he left, regardless of the intention. He ran off to a jewel from the past without even a note explaining why. And I worry that a part of me suspects that even if we go to rescue him, he won’t…he won’t be rescued. ‘The ram claiming his prize,’ and all. I’m worried that even after all of this, he’ll still refuse to come home, so if that is the case, I need to hear the words from his mouth.”

“Mr. Fell…” Muriel sighed as they approached him and grabbed his arm, “Mr. Crowley loves you! You know that-“

“But he ran.”

“He still loves you! I’d even hasten to say he loves all of us, past his snarky exterior.”

Aziraphale heavily sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. “I know that he does, my dear. I just…it’s that who knows what is going on there, and it may result in him changing his mind, whether on his own or not, and I want to be there to try to dissuade him in the case that…”

He silently trailed off, biting his lip. This is a high leveled sorcerer, nearly a god, that they’re directly going up against. A god, who, from the stories he has been told and what he has seen, will do anything to get what he wants in the end. And he understands that his partner is one of those desires, for one reason or another. The thought of potentially losing him like this makes him feel helpless — not just because of the selfish reason that he doesn’t want to lose him, but that it may not end up being Crowley’s choice in the end.

Aziraphale shook his head in a desperate attempt to ward off those thoughts, lest he fall down a dangerous slope. He couldn’t let his doubt seep into his faith and love and possibly permanently corrupt it. He needed to reel himself in and reevaluate. 

“R-regardless of my own personal feelings, I fear that the plan still needs to be workshopped again. I simply cannot travel with you through the Demiplane in the case that Adam falters with the casting, not that I don’t have faith in the boy. I will not be able to rescue ourselves from the inside. However, I cannot stay outside of the plane either, because I will not be able to tell if the spell doesn’t work unless I am physically there to watch Adam, which I cannot be as that would raise much suspicion if I was to follow or stay nearby,” he heavily sighed. “There’s no good way around it.”

“What if you had a signal, like a flare…?” Newt carefully spoke up. “If you stayed outside of the plane, and if there was trouble you would be signaled to get as close as possible to the base, or if it was successful you’d be teleported or would know to approach?”

“Unfortunately, dear boy, there does not seem to be a spell which could fit all of those requirements,” Aziraphale frowned. “Communication between planes is tricky. The Demiplane itself is also difficult, as I am yet to find out where it lands between the other known planes. There’s too many unknown variables.”

The half-orc seemed to satisfyingly smile to himself. He pulled over his bag of holding to his front and shoved his arm inside, rummaging around its expansive contents. 

“Sometimes I forget that I’m a proper artificer,” Newt laughed to himself. “Everything I make never really works as intended. However, as you spoke, I realized that one of my creations finally fits within a specific circumstance in which it seems to finally become useful for.”

With a flourish he pulled out a steel sword, one of Aziraphale’s practice blades that he offered to the young man to tinker with on a rainy afternoon. There were runes scratched into the surface of the handle, and it seemed to emanate a magical essence. 

“I wanted to make an enchanted sword, originally. One that had extra firepower or could cause more damage, or even poison if it slashed an enemy. Unfortunately, the only thing the sword seems to be able to do is to return to whoever the wielder is when it is summoned with the intent of being used. If you leave the sword behind, but suddenly decide that you need the sword and mentally plan to use it, the sword and whatever is attached to it will return to the owner. It doesn’t cross planes, as I tested it with the ethereal plane and Anathema casting Blink. And when it can’t return to the owner, the metal would tremor as if it was struggling in its attempt. It can be used like a signal flare and a teleport! Either you’ll get the signal to approach and cast the spell on your own, or you can be brought directly to the battle without using a spell slot!”

“That gimmick feels like it would only work once because its use is so specific,” Nina frowned. 

“A lot of my creations are like that,” Newt nervously laughed. “None of them are particularly useful on a day-to-day basis. It’s why I’m not 100% sure if they work to begin with, since they’re a bit hard to test.”

The more Newt spoke, the more bright the cleric seemed to become, more hopeful. It was like a near perfect bandaid over the bleeding mess he had created.  He beamed and smiled at the young man, his heart filled with pride and renewed hope and faith. 

“My boy, you are brilliant,” Aziraphale grinned. “That is just the thing we may need.”

~~~~~~

“You’re not trying hard enough!” Lucifer snapped as he clutched Crowley's face in his hand harshly. By now Crowley was nearly unrecognizable, or rather, a long forgotten face was re-emerging. His cheeks had found their long forgotten freckles as they were smattered across his upper cheeks and nose, the peppering of obsidian scales had resolved to raw patches of red skin where they once covered, and his eyes had lost their striking amber, instead returning to his brilliant natural brown. Aside from new wrinkles and a different way of carrying himself, Crowley heavily resembled his persona of his teens and early twenties in a way that was more unsettling than nostalgic. 

“I promise, I’m trying,” he grunted through partially smushed cheeks and continued straining, his body clenched with concentration

“I don’t have all bloody day to wait for you to figure this out! Or do you want me to do it for you? It’ll make this whole process so much easier!” Lucifer snapped. 

Crowley’s whole body was buzzing in pain as he desperately tried to concentrate on Lucifer’s demands. The passage of time has since slipped him, as he was once haphazardly counting the seconds that would pass but has since lost count. It felt strange, getting to see things more clearly now while his mind was swimming and screaming like the day he lost that clarity. Decades younger yet decades older, everything was confused

Lucifer grunted and shoved Crowley away again before taking in a deep, frustrated sigh.

“One last time, lamb. You have one last try,” he hissed. The matted curls hung over Crowley’s face to hide his expression behind the curtain of ginger, though the sad and shallow nod was enough to give Lucifer the go ahead.

Crowley was positioned in the center of an intricate sigil created with a complicated arrangement of chalk mixed with stardust and astrology maps projected onto the floor below. 

Lucifer returned to his spot outside of the circle and with one last huff, he held out his hands and tried to cast the spell once more

As he muttered under his breath a spell in an ancient language Crowley struggled to decipher, a subtle wind started to pick up and spin, causing the stardust to sparkle and fly in the air around Crowley. 

The reaction was near instant as the tiefling’s ears started to sharply ring with a high pitch shrill and his skin prickled like it was on fire. With a grunt, he closed his eyes and desperately tried to focus his energy as he stretched out his arms and held up his palms, trying to will a ball of flame into existence. 

He was burning, the earth shifting and spinning beneath him.

He was burning, as his hair kept flying, length growing longer and curls becoming a bit more tight. 

He was burning, his body shivering as if dumped into a cold ocean. 

A guttural moan crawled from his throat, shrinking his fangs as it dripped from his jaw. Just then, a brilliant spark flicked to life just above his hands, spinning and growing and feeding off of him like a miniature sun becoming an independent inferno. An invisible force slid past his arms, almost like thick invisible coils were carefully winding away from him and twisting further and further away. The power grew more distant with each turn, swirling towards and getting sucked within the manifested flame. More of his energy began to sap away painfully and slowly, though there was a sort of catharsis from purging the pent up magic that had cursed him for so long. 

The room began to bend and stretch, and the image of the stars above him seemed to dim and shrink further and further away. His gaze unfocused from them, knowing he was instead supposed to abandon the wider sky and put all of himself into the flame, into Aries. The stars faded to hazy pinpricks before the sky went dark.

Almost.

“See that? That’s Horologium, it’s a part of the La Caille family of constellations.” 

Crowley’s eyes drifted to an unseen vision. The forms of two figures lying down beside a small tent and a recently snuffed fire found him. 

He remembered the moment keenly—it was from one of his earlier adventures with Aziraphale. The two had fought a manic mechanic clockmaker. Aziraphale had nearly gotten crushed between two giant gears in their clock tower battlefield, and although he tried to hide it, he was certainly frazzled. As much as Crowley had avoided the zodiacs that shaped his past life at the time, he still recognized stargazing as therapeutic and used the opportunity to try and give Aziraphale some peace of mind.

“The stars are said to resemble a clock and pendulum,” Crowley’s memory added. 

“Hm,” Aziraphale hummed uncomfortably before taking a long, drawn out breath and releasing some pent up tension, “At least not every clock will try to kill me I suppose, then.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Crowley added. Aziraphale didn’t respond verbally, but he did flush a considerably innocent pink and scooted a little bit closer to the rogue. 

Crowley couldn’t help but feel the smallest smile and warmth that combated the overwhelming discomfort of his body. However, the soothing feeling was quickly replaced with panic as the shadows in the memory too began to dim and drift away into the dark. 

He struggled to hold on to what was fleeting. The feelings of terror yet comfort as he once faced the inferno to protect the young boy, but was shielding by a comforting light and brought back to earth. The drunken laughter as he leaned against who would become a close friend and spill his secrets to a well guarded vault. The rush of power in a desperate attempt to free the one thing he truly loved and still lived for. 

The memories were quiet and unreachable. 

The cold shock of a tear falling from his eyelashes down to his cheek felt like the gentle brush of tall grass covered in wet due. He was back in that forest, wheezing as he tried to clear the smoke from his lungs and ignore his burnt skin as he stared up at the night sky through the trees, thinking to himself, “what now?”.

He was burning, all of it falling and concentrating into the warm ball held above his hands, presented to the ram like a sacrificial offering.

Lucifer drew closer, holding out his own hands and closing in on the brilliant flame. The ram’s fingers outstretched and enveloped the ember. Just as he nearly plucked it away, Crowley's heart peeled with anguish and the fire exploded with a clatter of sparks that bounced playfully onto the ground below. The color returned to Crowley's cheeks, along with his fangs and usual hairstyle. 

He panted, losing all energy as he practically collapsed onto the ground. The moment Lucifer made contact with what was essentially his essence, everything screamed and pushed against the ram in a desperate attempt to protect itself. 

“I’m sorry…” Crowley heaved. “I-I tried, I tried, I’m sorry…”

“Sorry doesn’t fix this,” Lucifer snapped as he clapped his hands together twice and a shimmering orb appeared before him. Within the warbling lines of the spinning sphere was the familiar image of his home, once again taunted through the magical vision. 

Crowley’s struggle in trying to complete the spell to sever the celestial connection was long and painful, arduous and exhaustive. However, Lucifer did not afford any courtesy to even acknowledge the agony he was undergoing. 

Rather than taunt him, Lucifer was too frustrated to let Crowley beg and instead clenched his fist violently. The movement was mimicked by a violent crushing blast within the vision as well, and a frightening explosion tore into his home before Crowley even realized what was happening or had a chance to scream. 

“I’m through with these games,” Lucifer hissed. “There’s nothing waiting for you anymore. Either you are going to cooperate and finish this nonsense, or I’ll grab and pull it out myself.”

Crowley was in a stunned silence, his mind and body numb as he watched the shimmering image of his home crumble and fall. Everything he was doing was to protect them, to keep them out of this mess. But now he has failed that as well. 

‘There is still hope,’ the all-too-familiar voice hummed in his ear. 

Crowley’s breath shuttered. He had no energy left to fight or even quip back at what he so desperately wanted to silence at this point.

Voices continued to speak, both inside and outside of his mind. He couldn’t fathom either, though. His world was too busy burning after all. He wanted to throw up, but his entire being felt completely void and empty. He realistically knew a tsunami of feelings was somewhere within him, but all he felt like now was an empty shell of a man. Utterly destroyed. And the worst part is that that truth meant that Lucifer had technically gotten what he’d wanted — Anthony J. Crowley was no more. He had gone with his family, may as well have passed among them in the fire. But the husk of him stood here, trembling at the feet of Aries.

“Please…” the broken spirit breathed as it bowed its head in defeat. A simple request, a simple plea.

Lucifer hummed as he crept over and crouched down, gently cupping their face so that their eyes would meet. There was barely any fight or resistance. 

“Please…” they sighed again.

“Come to me, Raphael,” Lucifer whispered with a satisfied grin. His hands grew warm from the places they touched on Crowley's body as they sapped away the power. Crowley swayed and slumped further, and as the reality solidified with the prolonged lack of interruption to call this all a hoax, he felt the knife in his side twist further and his body grow colder. 

All at once, a grand noise clattered through the space. 

The diamonds and crystals that decorated the walls shimmered and chimed as a door violently swung open. There was the distinct pop of a ward being broken, a protective spell falling away. 

Crowley could barely process what was going on as Lucifer harshly gripped onto his arm and he felt the rest of his body grow cold before being tossed to the ground. 

There were voices, it seemed. Quite a few of them. But all he could really sense was the pure anger radiating off of the ram. 

He laid there for a few more moments, head still pounding and unsure of what was going on. Through narrow slits he could detect that harsh lights were moving around the room, though not much else without actually looking. The sounds of voices mixed in with a symphony of clashes and explosions. Still, nothing roused him until he felt a hand touch his arm again. Although he instinctively flinched, he registered that the touch was different from Lucifer’s — far less harsh. 

A gentle white filled his vision — not the sort of sharp white light that would burn and hurt, but the comforting shine of the North Star. He let himself physically relax within the warm light as the chaos continued around him outside of his senses. 

The noise and figures faded into the background as he willed himself to focus on what was becoming his shield, as the comforting touch held onto his other side and pulled him in close.

With all that overwhelmed him, the sudden relief and comfort was almost unbelievable — a whiplash of emotions he didn’t know he could actually feel after having seen what had happened to his…his…

The image of his home burning returned, and as the tightness refilled his chest, Crowley let out a miserable, wet sob. 

“-ley? Crowley, oh my dear, I’ve got you, I’ve got you…” 

A voice finally broke past the haze. 

Crowley shuddered as he was surrounded by Aziraphale’s presence and scent, which was distinctly like cinnamon and old parchment. 

It felt like he was hallucinating, like this was a ghost, but the warm body against him was so distinctly real and grounding. 

“‘Ziraphale, I…I-I thought-“

“Shh, breathe my dear,” Aziraphale gently hushed. “We’re all okay, I promise you.”

Crowley had a million things to say, but he only had one thing to do that override all words; with an incredibly raw and overjoyed cry, he buried his face even further into his partner’s chest and clutched onto Aziraphale as tight as he could, determined to never let him go again. In fact, he felt the urge well up to protect all of his family right then and there at all costs.

Slowly, he pulled away slightly to look up at Aziraphale’s soft expression watching over him. Frankly he still wasn’t entirely convinced that this wasn’t all a vision or rather his first view in heaven with the rest of his teammates. Even their immediate surroundings seemed a little too surreal and dreamy — perfectly calm and protected. Still though, a few glimpses of the fighting going on past the swirling mist of Otiluke’s Resilient Sphere surrounding them alluded to the fighting occurring outside.

“We’re perfectly safe for now,” Aziraphale said gently. “The sphere won’t hold up forever, and we certainly can’t leave the others to the fray on their own.”

It seemed he was speaking more just to himself than to Crowley, but still the tiefling hung onto every word regardless. 

“H…how are you…wh, I, huh?” Crowley sputtered, his mind trying to catch up to even form words.

“Anathema’s predilection came to the rescue. We packed up the house and relocated to a safe bunker once we anticipated the explosion. Since then we’ve all been planning to come here to save you, dear. And now, well, the plan’s in motion,” Aziraphale said as he looked up through the fogged layer of the sphere. Although obscured, the moving shapes were enough to imply the battle outside. It seemed from the great diversity of blurred attacks that the others were holding their own, though that didn’t mean they were out of the woods by any means. Still though, he resolved to use any time he could to prepare Crowley for the rest of the fight, especially considering the state they’d found him in. 

Aziraphale turned his attention back to the tiefling in his arms and carefully traced his fingers along his cheek. 

“I’m so glad you’re alright, Crowley. I’ll have a word with you later about how cross I am regarding your sudden disappearance, but I can’t say I don’t understand why you did what you did,” he sighed as he gently touched one of the areas that was previously covered in scales, “Still though, when we first made it in here, I didn’t quite recognize you at first. Took me a second look, but no doubt you’re still my dashing serpent.”

There was some relief in knowing that the others were truly okay, that they had avoided most of the trouble and even the horror of the explosion he was forced to watch from a distance. He had to remember to thank Anathema profusely for her visions — they have saved their lives more times than they can really count at this point. 

Crowley shivered at the touch, the skin still a bit raw and sensitive and unused to being exposed. But even still, he reveled in the feeling, in the comfort from the tingling knowing who it was from. 

“He didn’t leave me a choice…” he sighed, his voice quiet. “He did this…well…we both did…”

The thrum of magic still danced on his senses every now and then, the mixture of their two energies against his soul that turned the clock back.

“Oh Crowley…” Aziraphale frowned as he leaned down and pressed his lips against the other’s forehead. When he pulled away, his hand slid down slowly and rested against Crowley’s chest. He was quick to notice the hard thump of his heartbeat. 

“Let me help you, dear. Anything you want, however you wish to be. What do you need?” He asked softly. 

Crowley hesitated as he glanced out of the sphere to watch the blur of a mess just beyond it. He frowned as the distinct sight of bright fire flared and shot across the room. 

“I just want to go home…” Crowley heavily sighed.

“I’d love nothing more than to take you there,” Aziraphale hummed. He began to loosen his grip slightly, but Crowley instinctively hugged back. 

“I’m sorry dear, but if we’re to take you home, we’ll need to get past Lucifer first,” Aziraphale explained carefully as he shifted back again. This time, Crowley didn’t clutch onto him as tightly, though he still lingered.

“B-But…you shouldn’t fight, Azi,” he said breathlessly. After being laid up in bed, Aziraphale was hardly ready to face off against a conduit to a minor god.

Right?

The cleric smirked at him as he stood carefully. With a surprisingly elegant flourish, an enormous pair of wings unfurled from his back and one flick of his wrist summoned a brilliantly fiery sword.

“Beautiful…” Crowley breathed as he looked up at his partner in awe. The words came out of his mouth before he even got to consider the implications of what he was seeing. Aziraphale blushed and bashfully looked off to the side in slight embarrassment. 

“Oh, it’s nothing,” he said with a light laugh. “But, I feel more than ready to fight, and I have you to thank for that my dear.”

“Huh?” Crowley blinked. Aziraphale smiled and knelt back down in front of him, briefly setting down his sword to grab Crowley's arms. 

“You took care of me — you can be so sweet, dear. Let me take care of you now,” he sighed before leaning forward and pressing a sweet kiss to the tiefling’s lips before standing up carefully and grasping his sword once again. With a quick snap of his fingers, he created a small gap in the sphere for him to slip out of before the surface reformed, protecting Crowley inside while he rushed towards Lucifer, currently rallying blasts against Nina’s barrage of arrows. 

It took a moment for Crowley to process what had just happened before he quickly shot to his feet and stumbled to the edge of the sphere. 

They were all crazy! He had faith that they could hold their own for a while, yes, but the ram is not one to hold back and most definitely has way more stamina and health than the rest of them combined. It was practically a death sentence!

In a frenzied panic, Crowley attempted to rush forward — although the situation seemed considerably helpless and marked for certain death, the urge to protect his family superseded reason. However, he was quickly struck with the fact that he couldn’t escape Aziraphale’s sphere, not when it was made of magic. 

“ShitshitshitshitSHITSHITSHIT!”

The tiefling started to anxiously pace in a circle and tug at his hair in frustration. He had no weapons, he was surely not strong enough physically to just tear away at the sphere to let himself go — Aziraphale certainly wouldn’t budge either and wouldn’t let him out until the spell wore off on its own.

Now, stuck in a perpetual bubble, he felt threatened by time, but also somehow safe and calm enough to think rationally — to view this situation from a wider lens. 

Lucifer had hurt him. Lucifer was abusive. Lucifer wasn’t good. These were things Crowley had acknowledged in his time since leaving, but sentiments that he needed a reminder of since he’d fallen back into his trauma responses under the ram’s thumb.

Still though, he being here brought back other memories too, not just the ones regarding his former mentor. This place, his old lifestyle, had been so thoroughly tainted by Aries that he’d rejected it outright. But admittedly, there were things he had to sacrifice simply due to the association with his abuser. 

The stars, his whole identity, his magic, heck even his own intelligence and love for academia he completely buried and desperately tried to throw away in an attempt to distance the new from the old. 

It hurt, he adjusted over time, and was better as a result. But even as things got better he refused to let the two partially merge and let himself accept that those things shouldn’t be ruined.

For the longest time, “Crowley” was a persona, a coping mechanism to deal with what had happened. But eventually he’d realized Crowley was himself, regardless of whatever he’d initially justified it as: a fake identity to hide undercover, a made-up man to entertain his “ridiculous fantasies,” in Lucifer’s words, of being male presenting, whatever “justification” he’d used prior was more for ease of denial. But Crowley was Crowley, and he loved being Crowley. 

But that also didn’t mean that “Raphael” was a different person either. In accepting Crowley, he’d inadvertently shut away another truth of himself. 

Crowley slowly backed away from the barrier and gently slumped back down onto the floor. The stars had been calling him for so long.

Perhaps it was time to answer. 

With a heavy sigh, he held his head back and glanced up towards what would be the sky and closed his eyes. 

Before, it was all out of desperation. The need to make a point, selfish in nature. He had forcibly grabbed it without asking for permission, really, latching on like a hook to a fish. 

This time, it was so much more. 

“Please, forgive me,” he whispered in his thoughts. “If you’d let me?”

The stars seemed to hesitate before twinkling.

‘Are you sure this is what you want?’ the familiar but unknown voice asked.

Crowley breathed in a long stream of air that was old and stale, but admittedly nostalgic. It was a goodbye to the air itself. 

“Yes.”

There seemed to be a moment of hesitation from the other being, before his senses were quickly overwhelmed with a strong, familiar, and sudden energy. The sparks of fire spread out to every limb, making his skin prickle and burn. The tiefling didn’t even flinch, reveling in the warmth. Somehow, despite the whiplash of emotions he’d suffered in the past 20 minutes alone, he was not scared. For as overwhelming and stressful as change was, he did feel ready. 

From their vantage point outside, between glimpses of fighting with Lucifer and the sphere still standing on the far side of the room, the spell seemed to become a sort of chrysalis, glowing and changing with a flourish of colors that certainly weren’t there before.

“Oh…oh gods he was right,” Nina said in awe once she noticed the lights. 

Aziraphale glanced back at the sphere and warmly smiled to himself. He could practically feel the warm energy radiate from it.

Lucifer followed their gaze and looked up in horror at the sight. In a blaze of fury, he released a violent attack, spears of flame shooting out in all directions and throwing all of them backwards. 

“What have you done!” He shrieked as he hurled a blast at the glistening dome. Although the powerful blast yielded a few cracks, Aziraphale managed to recoil in time and raised his hands, reinforcing the shield as much as he could to give Crowley the time he needed. 

“All you did was delay the inevitable!” Aziraphale yelled. “You knew it was going to turn out this way eventually!”

“The gods do not play games like this! Disrupting the balance!” Lucifer growled as he launched another attack. 

“Where the hell have you been??” Nina gawked. 

With a frustrated, guttural roar, Lucifer snapped, his form dripping with a spastic, molten power.

“I tried destroying you once, cockroaches! I’ll do it again!” He snapped with a subsequent wave of his arm. At once, glowing tendrils of maroon sprang forth and snatched the four of them by their throats, “You had to get involved, didn’t you?! Idiots! I will revel in snapping your ne-“

The sphere suddenly burst in a flair of color and orange sparks, the pieces falling like crystals of snow. A form jumped and collided with Lucifer, causing the ram to lose his focus on the spell and drop the others from his grip. 

He’d hardly gotten a chance to register the sudden impact before two sharp talons harshly gripped him under the arms and flung him violently into the nearby wall with a shattering impact, followed by a barrage of furious and fiery blows. After the final blast landed and no more force kept him against the surface, Lucifer pitifully slid off and tumbled into a heap on the floor below. The others hesitated, waiting to see if he would move. The conduit seemed still, lying against the rubble. He emitted a low groan and shakily pushed himself up to his feet, holding his body up against the wall for support. 

Before him was a new silhouette.

Crowley stood as a powerful force before him, refreshed and radiant. His hair a blazing copper and reaching his lower back, portions braided in snaking sections that tied it together elegantly. His previous patches of scales had returned with an additional smattering, though this time the patterns appeared more purposeful. The obsidian had fully covered his hands now in dark black talons. Despite Lucifer’s best efforts, Crowley's eyes had now returned to their gold, serpentine appearance. 

Among the other changes, the biggest and most notable was his morphological metamorphoses; no longer did Crowley have legs but instead he supported himself on a grand black and crimson snake tail. 

“These games are over, babe,” Crowley lowly hissed. His voice seemed to reverberate throughout the room, as if he was speaking directly into everyone’s ears. “Like I said before, your fight is with me! We can either attack each other senselessly until we rip our throats out, or you can give up — stand down. Give me the same respect you give to any other zodiac and leave my family alone," Crowley growled with a quick glance back at the others before turning his attention back to the ram, “What do you say?”

Lucifer straightened himself with considerable effort, and although he seemed shaky, he regained his normal stature. 

“No way in heaven or hell or anywhere in between,” Lucifer hissed before pouncing forward with a shockingly quick parade of small fireballs, whizzing around and firing towards Crowley from multiple directions.

Crowley rolled his eyes and huffed in annoyance. Well, at least he gave it an attempt at the bare minimum. 

With a quick flourish and snap, a blaze of fire followed the movement of his arm and effectively blocked all of the attacks, as well as carefully shifted to the side in order to avoid Lucifer from grabbing on. 

Lucifer fumbled when he failed to latch onto Crowley as intended. Crowley quickly used that to his advantage, turning and shifting his tail to instead whip up and snatch Lucifer’s outstretched arms. Once he’d gotten a good grip, Crowley twisted his body harshly, dragging the ram with him and whirling Lucifer around to smash against the ground below. Crowley was quick to pin him down in the spots 

“Know when to stop. You don’t need me, I don’t need you. We have different priorities — I’m giving you a chance to walk away! I have so many years of fury and hatred for you pent up, it’s taking more energy to hold that in than to fight you.”

Lucifer loudly groaned, both in pain and annoyance as he slumped against the stone, still within Crowley’s grip. But even as his whole body buzzed with pain, the conduit started to loudly laugh as he wheezed. 

“A-ah…so you’ve still got it after all…”

“This isn’t just continuing where I stopped,” Crowley said as he snapped his fingers as if lighting a match. A brilliant spark appeared floating between his fingers, “This is more. I’ve grown since then. Even without practicing magic, I’ve matured and gained strength in other ways.”

Suddenly his chest puffed, and the small flame in his hand intensified, shifting to a brilliant blue. 

“Now’s not the time to underestimate me.”

The ram seemed satisfied, in an odd way, as he continued to shove his way into Crowley’s thoughts and make him more and more reactive to his words. 

“Prove it to me,” Lucifer smirked. 

With a frustrated grunt, Crowley plunged his fist forward, down into Lucifer’s chest and above this heart. The blue flame sparked with a furious blaze, and soon a raging inferno blasted forth, encapsulating both of their forms in flame. It was hot, and in spite of his kinship with fire and infernal bloodline, the pure strength of the fire stung. But still, the intense emotions clouded his current awareness and Crowley hardly registered the pain. Running off of pure adrenaline it seemed like, all of his energy was put into this flame, aggressive and angry and full of regret for past mistakes. The heat ate at his skin and hair, causing them to prickle and burn along with the rest of him. 

There was a yell, deep and guttural and almost ethereal in the way it echoed. Which from the two it was coming from was hard to tell.

“Mr. Crowley!” Muriel gasped as they instinctively rushed forward. 

“Careful, careful!” Anathema gasped as she tried to snatch them back, but in running forward she realized in tandem how broiling hot the fires emanating from the gods really were, “oh damn…”

“Crowley! Don’t hurt yourself!” Aziraphale called pleadingly.

“Yeah! He’s trying to goad you on! He’s toying with you!” Nina yelled. 

The intensity and harsh roaring of the flames was difficult to hear over, not to mention the intense focus he had on his foe served to block out outside stimuli.

As he stared down at ram with pure anger, his arm shaking as he pressed further and harder into his chest, Lucifer let out a cough and a wheezing, mocking laugh. There was a look in his eyes past the pain — satisfaction. 

“Even now…you’re still obsessed with me,” he smirked. “I should feel honored, really…I’ve captured your full attention.”

The pleas of his family continued to fall on deaf ears as the serpent lowly growled in annoyance and focused more pressure he put into the hold and flame. His talons clenched with the distinct feeling of flesh tearing and pulling beneath them. 

“I just am curious to sssee if you can properly die,” he spat, his s’s slurring into a proper hiss.

“Always the intellectual!” Lucifer laughed with a maddening cackle. He managed to wrangle one arm free, but instead of fighting back, he snatched Crowley's wrist and pulled it down further, almost assisting Crowley in antagonizing himself, “You know the zodiacs like the back of your hand, and now those hands are your own! You wish to know how we perish so badly that you will be the one to bear death on your conscience! Do it then! Spill my blood, coat your fingers in me!”

Crowley released a beastial cry as he sank deeper into his power. His flame was so bright that it hurt his own eyes to see, but he kept plunging further and further to destroy that who he despised, that who cursed him, that who hurt-

A strange, foreign sensation struck him. 

It was a feeling he’d never felt before, a touch that almost made him shiver from the surprise. It was enough, at least, to distract him and grab his curiosity. He turned to find the source of the sensation, and through the blaring light made out Aziraphale having grabbed the tip of his new tail, desperately bracing against the flames with blue aura around him, some sort of protection from fire it seemed from the fact that he currently wasn’t scorched. However, it was clear the spell wasn’t foolproof, the edges of his covering beginning to flicker and warble enough that flames licked the edges of his clothes and small patches of skin.

There was a quiet plea in his eyes when they both met each other. 

“Please.”

Aziraphale pulled himself closer, wincing as the flames kept grazing him as he got closer and closer to the center, to the source. If he wasn’t surrounded by a deadly heat, there would’ve been tears gently falling from his eyes. He started to speak, but the roar of the flames made it hard to hear him clearly, but Crowley was able to read his lips. 

“You’ve won, please, come home,” he pleaded. “You’re burning up.”

Crowley stiffened and reflexively tried to breathe, but was quick to choke on flames and bitter ash. Reality and clarity hit him. With a careful nod, the flames extinguished themselves, shrinking back into Crowley's body until they fizzled into residual smoke. 

His eyes flicked back up to Aziraphale, who returned a shaken but proud smile. Now calm and in control, Crowley turned back to Lucifer. 

“This-“

He didn’t get the word out before a sickening squelch and a moist plunging sound tore out from beneath him. In one moment, Crowley was looking at Lucifer. In the next, he was staring at a dark red fistful, throbbing and dripping with blood with a familiar “tha-thump. Tha-thump.”

His whole body froze as he stared down at what his mind was refusing to comprehend was real. The blood trailed through the scales coating his claws and dropped down his forearm to finally fall down to the stone from his elbow. It was cold and thick, and he distinctly felt every drop as it moved. 

He was painted in the blood of the ram, splattered against his skin and scales like raindrops. In the end, Lucifer had gotten exactly what he wanted, exactly what he said. His death on his mind, and his blood covering his hands. 

When has he ever really killed? There have been a few times, over the years — each time out of desperation and necessity in order to keep living and to protect what he loved. Was this all done to protect, or was it pure selfishness?

The others stared on, slack-jawed and almost horrified at the sight. There was something so primal about watching their boss, their friend not only kill someone, but to do it with such brutality with their hands. 

While everyone stayed still, Aziraphale managed to snap out of his shock and awkwardly clamor forward, maneuvering around Lucifer’s body and instead push himself into Crowley’s vision. It was obvious he was frazzled, but trying to work quickly in some awkward attempt to prevent a panic. 

“It’s over, it’s over now dear,” he fussed as he used an arm to slip around the side of Crowley's ribs and cradle his back. The other arm gently took the heart from Crowley's other hand and calmly set it on the floor beside them. He didn’t even flinch as he felt it twitch in his grasp. Once it was placed on the tile, he reached back up, quickly wiping the blood from his hand on his shirt, and caressing Crowley’s cheek, though with the secondary motive of using his hand to partially block the corpse from Crowley’s vision as much as possible. 

It looked like he was lost, barely even blinking or registering that Aziraphale was gently moving him around. At the very least, he was breathing. 

“It’s over now, it’s okay, you’re okay,” Aziraphale breathed as he gently smoothed down Crowley’s hair. “We can go home now!”

The air was stale and silent, no one dared to breathe a word.

With Crowley still deeply and thoroughly dazed, Aziraphale prayed the others would be a little easier to snap out of their shock. 

“Erm, Muriel! Dear! We should find our way out of here now, yes? If you and Anathema can manage, it would be very helpful if you were to gather the others and teleport everyone back to our initial rendezvous point. Then once everyone is accounted for we can-“ he quickly turned back to Crowley, “-go home. We’ve all deserved a thorough rest after this.”

Muriel stood stiff for another moment but eventually managed an awkward nod and began struggling with a standard teleportation spell. In their defense, they were still a bit frazzled and distracted by the body still bleeding fresh blood before them, but they eventually managed. 

In an instant, the other three quickly disappeared as the spell sent them back to where the closest group was currently hiding. Aziraphale hoped that they decided to just quickly get to work and get out of here rather than panic and spread what had happened. He’d rather sit and discuss this properly.

He silently looked over at the heap of the ram, who was lying there still and in an awkward heap when he fell from Crowley’s grip. He frowned as he contemplated — should he feel grief or ever guilt over the man? His tired and frazzled mind didn’t want to bother considering that right now.

As he tried to maneuver his partner, Crowley slumped against him, his whole body weak and limp as he continued to be unreachable, his gaze still empty and terrified. It was a little awkward to get him into a proper position that didn’t seem to aggravate either of their burns. 

“Crowley, don’t speak unless you need to, save your energy, dear. Just let me, umm…” he mumbled, mainly to himself aware his partner wouldn’t respond, as he took Crowley in his arms and held him gently, swaying him just slightly. With a free hand, he carefully snapped his fingers to cast Create Water. As a gentle stream manifested and started to flow, he carefully directed it towards Crowley’s arms, washing away the deep and sticky maroon that was coating his new scales. Still, there was no reaction from his partner, even as the cold water trickled down his skin, but the cleric tried not to let that bother him as he carefully finished cleaning him up and held him securely in his arms. Unfortunately, Aziraphale felt spent, so casting any large healing spells was off the table, but hopefully one of the others had a potion or two on them to help. After the intense battle, and returning to the center stage after being out of commission for so long, casting powerful spells boarded on dangerous for Aziraphale at times due to how much energy it simply took to cast anything. 

“We’re going home now, dear,” Aziraphale whispered, “I’m going to pick you up, okay?”

It was admittedly awkward to speak at a moment like this, but with the state Crowley was in, Aziraphale thought it very important to be clear and communicative about his actions, even if the recipient of his words didn’t seem particularly receptive. Gently he readjusted and maneuvered Crowley sideways, though it was quickly apparent how much his weight had changed with the complete change of his body; the tail would need some getting used to, especially since he didn’t want it dragging on the ground. Once the cleric felt that he was holding him properly and comfortably, the tiefling in a pseudo-bridal style position with his upper torso draped across Aziraphale’s shoulders and head carefully tilted to the side, he huffed and stood, finally leaving behind what felt like a strange prison cell. 

It felt like the stars were finally happily singing, the balance they so desired finally reached. The absence will be only temporary, as it will restore once the cycle renews. But now, it was finally at peace after crying and reaching for so many years. 

Unbeknownst to them, at that moment an entire faction of the star-studying students felt a shift. Something had changed, and those students who were under false understandings of their true zodiac felt the sudden shock as Ophiuchus breach its role in the sky.

No one understood what had changed, but everyone agreed that something certainly had. 

As the just anointed pseudo-god and his husband left the chamber, Crowley swore that among the many other senses overwhelming him, he began to feel the unseen chords of celestial power drawing him to students and bridging the gap to the universe. While that pressure was towering, among everything else that had happened it felt like a mere headache. Perhaps he’d have more time to realize the weight of it later, but for now he was simply too exhausted. 

It seemed that Crowley finally left his state of shock when he slumped and fell asleep in Aziraphale’s arms, at peace and his expression free from pain. That moment finally allowed the cleric to breathe and put himself at ease — for now, it was over, they won and they were free. Even with thoughts and memories of which he’d probably encounter later in his dreams, he smiled as he approached the gathered group of heroes and let himself beam with happiness and relief.

“Thank you, all of you,” he said barely above a whisper to avoid disturbing the sleeping serpent in his arms.

The Them stared at the interesting changes Crowley appeared to have undergone. Newt stared as well, though Anathema was quick to elbow him to discourage his gawking. Thankfully, it had seemed that the others who were present for the main battle had kept the sights to themselves, but even then that still didn’t dissipate the awkward feeling in the air. Aziraphale was already mentally planning on sitting with them and letting them talk — even if they all came out of this physically okay, he still made it a top priority for everyone to debrief after long-term quests like this. 

Noticing the hesitancy and partial confusion on where to go and leave the premises, Beelzebub bristled and stepped up, haphazardly pushing the team to leave in an attempt to be an escort and prevent them all from potentially getting caught once the ram’s current absence was noticed by anyone else. 

The sun was setting, the stars starting to peak out into the sky as they traveled. No one admitted it to each other, but they all swore they could hear them happily singing like a heavenly choir of hosts. They couldn’t make out any lyrics from the ancient sort of language that echoed, except for one distinct phrase that rang between the trees. 

’Welcome home.’

[goexchange-mods]

We're back with the 2nd-to-last gift! We know you've been anxiously waiting; thank you for your patience as it helps us honor every gift and participant.

Author's summary: It’s taken Crowley over 6000 years to figure out where they stood in the world, but as of right now they knew three things: one - they were still a demon amongst humans who would go along with Hell just as far as they could, two - that they were in love with an Angel who happened to be just as in love with them, and most recently, three - they were genderfluid, according to human standards, and wished to present more feminine. Now they just have to tell Aziraphale.

“It’s not about the world this time. It’s a simple thing, but it feels so big.”

[myfinejacksauce]

These have been floating around the past few days and Anathema/Newt immediately came to mind, so...

An alternate version of how Newt got Dick Turpin:

Mrs. Device: We love our daughter but she needs friends her own age

Newt, holding the flyer: uh huh

Mrs. Device: She's brilliant but obsessed

Newt: ok

Mrs. Device: Just take her out a few times, introduce her to your friends. It doesn't have to be romantic

Newt: Friends, sure. And I get the car?

Mrs: Device: Oh yes, I had it brought out here so you could--

Newt, peaking into vast garage: Wait, what's that? That blue one?

Mrs. Device: The Reliant Robin??

Newt: Yes, I'd like that one please

Mrs. Device: But you'd be using this car to take Anathema out

Newt: Oh, she's ok with it

Mrs. Device: Wait, you know my daughter?

Newt: Sort of. She grabbed me off the street and shoved this flyer in my hand. I told her I'd take her to coffee even without it, but she said there'd be the perfect car for a person like me up here, so...

Mrs. Device, looking to the sky for strength: I'll have someone bring you the keys

[lerry-hazel]

HERE BE SPOILERS !!! (e6)

I’m making a list of all those fishy things in GO2 I’m no longer willing to dismiss, because it makes me feel vindicated

So, we continue from where we’ve left: Crowley leaves Aziraphale to face 70 demons presumably alone and goes to Heaven in search of a Convenient Plot Device: even though he already knows both where Gabriel is and why he can’t be found.  

Meanwhile, in accordance with annoying “latest trends”, Aziraphale stand around gaping like a fish letting girls do all the work. Ok, I’ve seen the bullshit explanation about holy water, but why doesn’t he pick up a sword, or the gun he is supposed to have according to this very season, and at least try to finish some demons off before “taking desperate measures”?

Also, the war on Hell can be declared either if all 4 highest-ranking angels come to an agreement, or if some random Principality starts throwing his halo around.

And then, of course, there is the great sham of “going to the stars together”.

Gabriel and Beelzebub were fun as supporting characters, and I know some people were looking forward to seeing them getting together. But I sincerely doubt anyone would agree to watch their story instead of A&C. Especially if that’s a story of a completely different Gabriel and completely different Beelzebub, and it takes all of 6 minutes and 39 seconds (yes, I timed) to unfold.

It’s just plain awkward and painful when B&G start spewing sentiments that were obviously poached from another relationship. And when it’s suddenly “if Beelzebub and Gabriel can…”, as if a relationship that lasted 6000 years against all odds needs to be measured against a story told through convenient amnesia and three flashbacks. And then, to add insult to injury, we also have Nina and Maggy as supreme authority, and –

If the goal was to “compare and contrast” A&C to a new couple who have little in common outside of an intense encounter in a dangerous situation on one side, – and a couple who’d been working together for years without understanding they’d been dating on the other –

WHY THE HELL IS IT NOT, respectively, ANATHEMA/NEWT and MADAME TRACY/SHADWELL???  :-E

And then – well, we all know what happened then.

[mrghostrat]

BNF Chapter 17 • December 19th • [ ☕️ ]

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman at NADWCON 2011 (North American Discworld Convention) ❤

Neil: The single worst experience that we went through was, I think, the film. The first go round on the film, where it was bought by very nice people who convinced us they were very nice because we were absolute innocent. And I just remember going up for the first meeting with them.

And we were going up for the meeting, and Terry says, 'Here, come over here.'

I said, 'Okay.'

He said, 'Um, look, I'm not sure about these people, and you're not sure about these people. If this is our first meeting, if they're just completely barking, we should have a code word. And whoever says the code word, we both get up in unison and we leave'.

I said, 'Okay, so we need a code word that neither of us could conceivably say in normal conversation.'

And Terry says, 'Yes.'

I said, 'Okay, what about Biggles?' Now, Biggles, for those of you who don't know, was a famous...

Terry, joking: A famous Cardinal. [Cardinal Biggles in Monthy Python].

Neil: He was. Of course.

Terry: They're young, that's the only one they know.

Neil: Captain W. E. Johns wrote books about Biggles, who was a World War I flying ace who, with his pals Ginger and Algy used to go out and shoot out the evil Germans. So, if any Germans are here, you're not evil, it was just in this book. So. So, I say, 'What about Biggles?'

And Terry is, 'Okay. Biggles it is.'

So we head up for the meeting, and we're sitting there around the table talking to what seemed to be terribly nice, sensible people. And then the executive walks in. And the executive in this case was a woman who looked like she had mugged somebody 20 years younger than her and stolen her hair. And she walked in and she didn't... She said like, 'Hi, Neil. Hi, Terry. It's lovely to meet you both. Now, I'm sure that the guys have been talking to you about your book, Good Omens, and what we're thinking about now. Okay, let me just run some stuff past you. We figure the dynamics of this are the kid, Adam, whatever his name is, Newt, the witchfinder. We see him as, like, maybe being Tom Cruise, young, goodlooking, hunky, but he's looking for the witches. And the witch, Athaneema, I think her name was. Okay, so there's Newt and there's Athaneema'.

And I look at Terry, and I need to actually mime this - I think we should do this together.

.

Fun fact: Neil wrote the 'Athaneema' into the Good Omens series :).

[mielpetite]

The Book

My patrons voted for me to do a piece for each episode this year so it’s February, and time for episode two!

This piece is for “The Book” so you know I had to show our angel when he gets his mitts on said tome and makes one of the most fun faces to draw. For this piece, especially because the scene is so high contrast in lighting, I wanted to find a happy medium between realistic portraiture and a nouveau look. But I also employed the framing conventions of the book itself to provide four small color block illustrations of crucial characters of the Nice and Accurate Prophecies.

[lookitsstevie]

it's okay, he's just taking a nap : )

he'll be up soon 😇

[snek-eyes]

oh Newt 😆

[fexalted]

good omens + text posts (part 9)

an assortment i made last year with some season 2 mixed in for variety :3c

[zevampirex]

The all Cat omens gang, can you tell who is who?

[bunshr00m]

Do you have any good omens head cannons?

when "the them" get older they still bring up that one time adam went all evil when they're annoyed w him

anathema thought she didn't wanna date until she met newt and realized her type was just very pathetic boys and she hadn't met a pathetic enough boy

for some reason i think muriel would get asked out a lot on earth but at first they wouldn't realize they're dates so they're just happily cruising along being an absolute player. after realizing they'd be like "so if i just keep making lip contact with my dates they'll purchase more human sustenance for me? what an interesting trading system!"

i also headcanon that muriel is a lesbian though because i sense my own

gabriel finds flies on him a lot. in pockets, in hair, in his teeth. beezlebub just wants him to have lil friends

nina isn't very good at expressing affection so she'd do it really awkwardly. she'd hand someone a trinket, say "its yours" and then leave without explaining anything.

maggie hates nina's ex more than anyone. if she ever met them she'd give them a proper little smack. also i can see her as the "with all due respect, which is none..." meme

this one is basically canon but crowley makes fun of aziraphale for saying such british things despite also being british. "just popping off to the loo :)" "jUsT pOpPiNg OfF tO tHe LoOoOo"

finally i think crowley eats burnt ass toast bc he's just weird like that.

[goexchange-mods]

After the Almost Apocalypse, Anathema is ready to put her past behind her and start living a new life with Newt. The only problem is, Agnes still has some surprises under her sleeve…

Inhaling the smoke from burning Agnes's book has left Newt feeling a little... green???? Our Secret Author has used their prompt to imagine a future for Newt and Anathema post-Non-pocalypse with one of the cutest titles this Mod has ever seen! Join in the magic of a developing relationship by clicking the link to today's gift.

[myfinejacksauce]

Hoof on over to read another Halloween fic by me, this time Musical Omens:

👨‍🌾"Trick or Teat"🐮

Aziraphale makes part of his costume real and Crowley delights in it.

Also features: Anathema, Newt, Madame Tracy, Sergeant Shadwell, and a guest appearance by Adam and Wensleydale.

[lxvenderjewel]

good omens as the official maggot discord server: part 1

all parts!

@weirdly-specific-but-ok @hello-ello-ello @falling-raine @aroaceblackhole if yall wanna tag other people i'm cool w that

[innefableidiot]

Crowley, Anathema and Nina should all meet at a pub or cafe or something and just drink and talk shit about people. And I mean like people watching but also talking about people that really piss them off. Then I can imagine Aziraphale, Newt and Maggie just off somewhere else and they have a very calm book club or something.