#crowley watched the heart of his love burn to the ground

[densewentz]

do i think crowley has been filling the bookshop with fire extinguishers as a way to sooth what is probably a wild case of celestial ptsd in regards to the trauma of running into the burning bookshop and thinking his husband best friend had been killed in season 1? yes i do

[envies-writing-corner]

"What if I left?"

Synopsis: With a previously "gifted kid" partner who's burnt out and questions if NRC would be better off without them.

Genre: Angst

Contains: Jamil Viper, Leona Kingscholar, Malleus Draconia, Rook Hunt

CW: panic attacks, thoughts of not being good enough, overthinking, talk of sewerslide, etc. Not Proofread

Word Count: 1.3k

Yes we are ignoring the fact that this was accidentally deleted from my drafts and was a request.

Part 1, Part 2

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You sighed shakily as you stepped out of the classroom and into the crowded hallways, clutching your folders to your chest as you tried to force down the lump in your throat. How did it come to this? You were the 'gifted kid' in your world, had excelled in these new classes during your first few months and even helped tutor Ace when he was failing. Now, you had forgotten your assignment for Professor Crewel, been late to nearly every class today, and had gotten failing marks on two tests. What happened...?

It didn't matter at this point, all you knew was the tears were coming and fast, you couldn't cry, not here, not in front of everyone. You just had to breathe, right...? When did It become so difficult to breathe? Your mind was running miles a minute as you pushed through the crowd, not caring who you accidentally ran into, mumbling quiet apologies as you tried to run, not expecting your partner to find you.

Jamil Viper

"Prefect!" The vice-housewarden called after you, stunned in place after having your body slam against his in the hallway, watching your quickly retreating form for a second before running after you. Despite how fast you were, he saw the tears beginning to slip down your cheeks, he heard the hitching in your breaths. Every thought besides you left his mind, it no longer mattered that he would be late to class, or that he wouldn't have everything ready for Kalim's party this weekend. You were more important.

Jamil followed you all the way back to Ramshackle, gently opening the door to come face to face with your curled up form on the barely standing couch, head in your knees as sobs wracked through your body. His gaze softened as he closed the door behind him and kneeled in front of you, heart clenching at the sight of his lover in shambles.

A kind hand on your knee pulled you from your crying fit and surprised the boy as you pushed yourself off the couch , sending yourself flying into his arms as you hid your face in his neck, breath hitching and getting stuck in your throat as your body wracked with desperate cries.

"Oh Jamil...! I can't stand it anymore, I'm so tired of it all... I'm done with being Crowley's punching bag, I'm done with being not good enough for this school...!" you cried out, completely breaking down as the vice-housewarden gently shushed you, rubbing your back gently, pressing soft kisses to the top of your head and temple, wanting to help soothe you before things got worse in your mind,

"Please love... Calm down, it'll be ok... You're more than enough for this school, and you're enough for me. I promise you'll be ok." He whispered, tightening his arms around your waist as he gently cradled your head against his neck.

Leona Kingscholar

The lion jolted awake as the doors to the botanical gardens slammed open, quickly followed by the sound of your hysteric crying and sharp breaths. He watched from afar as you kneeled in front of the small pond, tears dripping into the still water making it ripple your reflection. Hands coming up to cover your face as you curled in on yourself, coughing out sobs as your chest began to burn from the lack of air.

Leona frowned as he carefully got up and squatted next to you, placing a hand on your head, not expecting your to turn and collapse against his form, your sobs no longer being held back as you clutched his shirt for some kind of way to ground yourself. The prince took a moment to fully grasp the situation before sighing and holding you close.

"Herbivore, you better have a good reason for interrupting my nap." He tried to joke, the tone of his voice making it clear there was no real annoyance behind his words, but it was the exact opposite of what you needed to hear right now. Instead of making you feel better, he had made you cry harder, unknowingly affirming the dark thoughts swirling in your mind.

"I can't do it anymore... I want to disappear, Leona! I'm not enough anymore, no one would care anyways... I'm just an errand dog to Crowely, and all I've done is make your life harder..." You whimpered out, more tears slipping down your cheeks as they dissolved into Leona's shirt. Your lover frowned as he laid back, pulling you on top of his chest and whispered to you.

"More people love you than you think, and I can say with full confidence that you're the most important person in my life, so don't go dying on me. Ok?"

Malleus Draconia

It wasn't even the dragon fae who found you sitting in the mirror hall during the middle of class, bawling your eyes out into your knees as scattered papers surrounded your curled up form. It was Lilia who initially sat with you until you felt better enough to return to classes, letting you release all the stress and sadness that was building up, letting you vent until no words would leave your lips. Once situated back in your next class, the vice-housewarden went straight to Malleus, telling the prince how things seemed to be getting worse and worse the longer you stayed here. The campus had never emptied out quicker than it did when the students saw the looming green-tinted storm clouds.

Malleus was already waiting at Ramshackle for you by the time you'd been able to leave the college, a sympathetic look on his stoic features as he stood there, arms already open to welcome you into a hug. It didn't take long for the waterworks to start up again as you buried your face against the male's chest, sniffling as he held you close, combing his fingers through your hair to help calm you.

"Child of man, Lilia informed me of your situation, how you wish to leave from this world permanently. I know it's not much, but I'll always be here to aid you when things grow sour." He'd speak softly, helping you inside the dorm building you called home, closing the door gently behind you both. The events afterwards of cuddling and long speeches of his love for you was only for you two to share.

Rook Hunt

The hunter had taken notice of your feelings long before they bubbled over, already informing Vil of his absence from the dorm for tonight. Rook sighed as he walked up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder, one hand holding a bouquet of flowers to your chest, wanting to make you smile instead of the tears that are spilling from your precious face.

"Mon Amour, you don't need to speak, I know... Your disappearance would break my heart, leaving me a shell of the man you love." He'd whisper against your temple, leading you away from crowded areas, letting you take the blossoms before cupping your face and resting your foreheads together, wiping away any tears that threatened to spill. He'd do everything in his power to cheer you up, using the most flowery words that you know he fully believes, leaving little love notes around the ramshackle dorm for you to find along with little trinkets that would remind him of you.

Rook would sit with you as you slowly calm down, pressing kisses to your eyelids to cease the bubbled liquid that fell from them, brushing your hair behind your ear before lifting you, all of his attention focused on chasing away any nasty and terrible thoughts that might still remain. "Mon chéri(e), never doubt yourself, if only you could see the way I view you. Maybe then, this way of thinking would vanish and you could smile once more..."

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Authors Note: I lost so much motivation while writing this, BECAUSE IT DELETED RIGHT AS I FINISHED :,) so I apologize for how bad the writing got during Rook's part. Whoever requested this, thank you requesting and I'M SO SORRY IT TOOK THIS LONG T-T

[oepionie]

— "INTO THE RABBIT-HOLE" THE CROWNED PRINCESS OF RAMSHACKLE. riddle rosehearts

💭ramshackle princess series masterlist | 💬ao3 link

SYNOPSIS: A dispute with Riddle prompts the prefect to flee into the forest where she falls into a rabbit hole and finds herself in a mad fantastical realm of her imagination. Here, she meets her friends who are acting somewhat strangely… odd. They all treat her as royalty and whisk her away to a castle where her husband, the Red Queen, eagerly awaits her return.

How curious.

⊹ [ cw ] — hurt/comfort, falling from heights, arguments, lashing out, fighting, allusions to executions and stabbing, mentions of a knife, mentions of smoking, mild blood, riddle lashes out on you◞

⊹ [ tags ] — FLUFF, ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP, FEM! READER | deuce punches you, che'nya is a little shit, trey with bunny ears, ace and deuce as the tweedle dumbasses, affectionate riddle, cater as hot knave◞

⊹ [ w.c ] — 9K+

ACT I: BLOOD RED MESS

​"It was just sitting on top of the old boxes in the attic!" You exclaimed, fumbling with the tiara buried deep in your bag. Trey watched as you took it out, holding it up for him to see. It was of a silver color, embezzled and richly decorated with diamonds. The tiara had a fan shaped diadem, nine throngs, and a small blue heart-shaped jewel as its centerpiece. It was an ornament befitting royalty. Not really something you'd find in Ramshackle's run-down attic.

"That does look expensive. What do you plan on doing with it?" Trey asked, pushing his glasses up. Both of you were taking a walk through the grounds of Heartslabyul, basking in the sunshine. "That could sell for quite a lot of money."

"Tempting, but I was planning on giving it to Crowley." You muttered, turning the tiara in your hands and admiring the way it glimmered in the sunlight.

All of a sudden, in the corner of your eye, a small green blur dashed into the rosebushes, scurrying deep into the green brambles. Gasping, you pointed to it. "Oh! Trey, did you see that?"

"See what...?" Trey blinked. You rushed forward, parting the branches and peering through the shrub. A green rabbit in a waistcoat dashed through the bushes, a ticking clock perched onto his hip. "A bunny rabbit!"

"A rabbit-? O-Oi! Prefect?!" Trey ran after you as you rushed through the bushes, intent on chasing the bunny. Branches and rose thorns scratched and tore at your uniform, but you paid no mind to it. The rabbit took a sharp turn right, and you followed in hot pursuit. As you rounded the corner, you crashed into a large stack of paint buckets. The canisters all toppled to the ground, breaking open and tainting the green grass red.

Likewise, you also fell into the red puddle. The paint pooled around you, seeping into your clothes and hair. You groaned, pushing yourself away from the wreckage. "Just my lucky day."

While you were busy glaring down at the offending red pigment bleeding onto your pristine white blouse, Trey had rushed to your side. The third-year seemed to be nervous as he wiped your face down with his sleeve. "Prefect, quick, fix yourself up before—"

"What is the meaning of this?!" Riddle exclaimed, the clattering click of his heels signaling his arrival as he stomped towards you.

Uh oh.

"O-Oh! Riddle, I—" You stammered, scrambling up. "Love, I was just trying to—"

"Do you have any idea what you've just done?!" Riddle yelled, pulling you away from Trey and seizing your arm—all with a frown etched onto his face. You whimpered at his tight hold, his blunt nails digging deep into your skin. "What were you thinking?! Why were you running through the gardens like some buffoon?!"

"I-I...I was chasing...a rabbit." You peered at him through shaky wet lashes, cheeks burning up in embarrassment. Your sweetheart stared at you in incredulity before a snarky laugh left his lips.

"A rabbit." Riddle seethed, dragging a hand down his face. His pointed glare cut through you as he gestured towards the mess of red. "All that for a rabbit?!"

"I'll have you know that batch of paint is a special import from the Queendom of Roses. We've been waiting for its arrival for months and now you've ruined it with your tomfoolery!" The redhead's chest heaved as he finished his outburst. His skin had turned crimson, and a vein had ticked on his temple. Riddle grabbed a battered bucket beside you, making you avert your gaze towards him.

"Well? What do you have to say for yourself?" He said. Your mouth dropped open, but you found yourself unable to say anything. The longer you kept silent, the more he felt his anger simmer. Riddle's face twisted into a vicious scowl before he threw the bucket full-force at a nearby tree. The resounding bang made you jump, fear gripping your heart.

"I said—" Riddle paused, his tongue screeching to a halt once he saw thick blobs of tears sliding down your face. Silence soon followed. Quickly, his demeanor changed as he finally realized the cruelty and weight of his words.

Muttering obscenities under his breath, Riddle pinched the bridge of his nose. He's done it again, he let his anger get the better of him.

Mistaking his guilt for anger, you cowered before him, watery eyes glued to the ground as you sputtered out sloppy apologies. "I'm s-sorry, Riddle...I'm really sorry."

"No, I—" The redhead let go of your arm, causing you to fall back and crumble to the floor. He scrambled to kneel down beside you, hands hovering over your waist. "Rose, I didn't mean to—"

"I-I have to go." Everyone stared at you with sympathy as you rushed out of the garden, frantically wiping away at the tears on your cheeks. Riddle tried to go after you, but Trey blocked his path. The third-year shook his head, pushing the dormleader back. "Give her some space."

"You can apologize later." Trey sighed. He folded his arms over his chest, looking as if he was about to lecture Riddle. But the look of guilt on his childhood friend's face already told him all he needed to know.

ACT II: JUST LIKE ALICE

Sobs racked through your chest as you rushed through the woods. You didn't know where you were going, you just knew was that you needed to get away. Riddle's words still beat and tore at your poor heart.

So stricken with embarrassment from earlier, you didn't notice an overgrown branch sticking out of the dirt and you tripped, slipping into an agape rabbit hole. You fell through the dirt tunnel; Screaming your lungs out, spinning around wildly in the air, and panicking while tears sprung out of your eyes. Though you soon realized, as minutes passed that you were still falling. The hole seemed to be unending.

"By the great sevens-?!" You soon stopped spinning wildly and instead started floating down. From soaring book shelves, a musty wrinkled bed, a vintage lamp and a broken down piano—The hole around you was filled with all sorts of trinkets and junk.

It took a good 10 minutes before you finally dropped to the ground. Oddly enough, your fall didn't hurt one bit. In fact, it was rather...plush?

Looking down, you found yourself seated on a tremendous pile of pillows. Each pillow was distinct, mainly covered with red and black patchwork—you could only assume it was handmade. There was some sort of symbolism stitched onto it as well, resembling either a heart or playing cards. 

"What in the...Twisted Wonderland?" You gasped, standing up.

Whilst on top of the pillowy mountain, you took the chance to survey the surrounding room. It was a great hallway lined with many doors of all shapes and sizes. The area was fairly big, modeled after Heartslabyul's dorms with its wine-red walls, checkered floors, and peculiar heart-themed architecture.

Was this some sort of secret hideout?

"How curious..." Sliding down the hill of pillows, you decide to survey the hallway. Amongst the doors, you find a small one that's hardly the size of your foot. It was unique from the rest, colored purple and framed by a golden archway instead of the common silver one that others had.

Speculative, you wrapped your fingers around the minuscule handle and turned the door open. You bent down to peek through and catch sight of a beautiful, lush garden. 

A group of flowers danced around in the wind, almost as if they were beckoning you to take a closer look. For some odd reason, it fascinated you. In a trance, you turned back to the room with a new goal in mind. Surely there must be something in here that could take you in?

A banquet table sitting in the far corner caught your eye. It was filled to the brim with fresh pastries and drinks, strange considering no one was here. Though a bit creeped out, you took a gander at the feast lay out before you. Despite the table being so long, there was only one chair present and in front of it was an envelope.

"Curiouser and curiouser." You mutter.

Tearing the top open with your nail, you plucked out the contents of the envelope and caught sight of your name marked in elegant cursive on a lustrous golden card.

"A letter...?" You muttered. What you found was an invitation to a party. "Addressed to me?"

"The Red Queen's Unbirthday party...?" You mumbled, eyes skimming over the text until one line attracted your attention. "—Where His Majesty's Rose shall put on the Nine-Throng Tiara?"

A Tiara? With Nine-Throngs? 

Blinking, you turned back to the stack of pillows. The very tiara you found in your attic was sitting at the top, glimmering under the lights of the hall. Uh...when exactly did that get here?

You squinted your eyes at the line again. "Where she shall put on the Nine-Throng Tiara..."

"Put on the Nine-Throng Tiara?" Pocketing the invitation, you trudged back to the very top of the pillows and took the jewel headdress in your hands. You could only assume that its appearance here right now was the result of magic.

...So it wouldn't be far off to say that it had magical powers, huh? 

Taking a deep breath, you raised it above your head. "Well then, here goes nothing."

After gently setting it atop your head, you soon found a mystical glow engulfing your body. Gasping, you watched as your school uniform shifted and altered into a dress.

The dress was of a sky blue, a long train at its back, pleats along its front; It was decked with lavish lace, delicate embroidery and sewn in with diamonds.

The dress was knee-length and its big bouffant-styled skirt bounced when you walked. For accessories, you had opera-length white gloves and matching white stockings on.

Running your hand up your neck, you noticed how it had a high white lace collar which oddly complimented the black bow tied snug around your waist. The sneakers you had previously worn shifted themselves into dark mary janes, which felt like clouds with every step you took.

"O...kay? A dress-up was not what I was expecting." Sighing, you bunched up the train of your skirt in your hands and rushed back to the banquet table. This time, you took a look at the food and found a champagne bottle labeled "DRINK ME". 

Silently debating if this was a good idea, after a while, you decide to just go for it. Popping the bottle open, you take a quick swig and immediately get hit with a wave of nausea. Gagging, you place the bitter drink down on the table. 

"H-Huh!?" You gasp as the room around you grew bigger and bigger or rather—as you grew smaller and smaller. 

"Oof!" You plopped down onto the floor, the banquet table now towering over you. The drink had managed to shrink you to the right size and it seems that your clothes adjusted accordingly. Clapping your hands, you happily made your way to the golden door and turned the handle. 

Only to find that it was locked.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me." Furrowing your brows, you continued to furiously fumble with the doorknob. 

"It wasn't locked earlier!" You whined, kicking at the door. Huffing, you turned back once more to the table. A small golden key was seen on top, one that you must have missed earlier. 

Well, it was far too high up for you to reach now that was for sure. While marching up to the key, you spot a cookie marked “EAT ME” hidden behind one of the nearby table legs. 

"Might as well." You shrug, grabbing the cookie. After brushing it off, you move in to take a bite. "This can't possibly get any worst."

"Huh...? W-Woah!" You shriek, looking down at your feet which seemed to be so far off. Just then your head struck against the roof of the hall. "Uff!"

This time, it seems that the cookie caused you to grow to an inordinately large height.

"That hurt..." You grumbled, rubbing the top of your head. At once, you took up the tiny golden key and hurried off to take the champagne bottle, downing the liquid and shrinking back down. With a pep in your step, you rushed towards the door.

"Alright, Wonderland." You pushed the key into the keyhole, turning until you heard a click. 

"What do you have in store for me?"

Stepping into the door, you found yourself in the peculiar garden. 

It was a whimsical wonderland of it's own. The sky was painted in reds and pinks, and the flowers were ones that you've never seen nor heard of before. The only ones familiar to you were the rosebushes which surrounded the area, enclosed around the garden like towering barricades as little butterflies kissed its roses, fluttering about the flora.

"Oi!" Jumping, you whipped your head around to find a familiar pair of ginger and blueberry heads peeking out from a tree. "Who're you?"

Gasping, both of your hands clasped over your mouth. 

"Ace?! Deuce?!" The first-years jumped at your shrill shriek, nervously exchanging glances when their names flew out of your mouth. Both of them stepped away from their hiding spot, cautiously walking towards you. 

"How do y'know my name?" Ace asked. You were about to answer his question, but got distracted once you noticed the ridiculous outfits they were dressed in. Both of them had identical vivid yellow blouses with thick white lapels. Said blouses were paired with high-waisted red slacks and big blue bow-ties.

Snorting, you covered your mouth to conceal your giggles. "W-What's with the goofy fit?" 

"Eh? This is what we wear every day?" Deuce halted, looking down on his outfit. Ace shook his head, slapping his friend by the back of his head. "N-Never-mind that, listen, we have no idea who you are but—"

"Huh...?" You blinked dementedly. "What do you mean you have no idea who I am...? I'm Y/N!"

Both of them stared blankly at each other, then at you. Simultaneously, they bluntly replied. "Who?" 

"Y/N!"

Ace folded his arms across his puffed up chest. "Never heard of 'er."

"Guys, seriously-"

"That dress looks expensive." Deuce noted, "Are you some duchess from out of the kingdom?"

"No! I'm-" You struggled.

"Deuce, I don't know about you...but I think she might be a bit cuckoo in the head." Ace whispered, deliberately backing away from you. "Let's walk away slowly..."

"Alright! Enough with the jokes!" You lashed out. Gathering your skirt in your hands, you frantically rushed towards the two. "Listen to me! I'm-"

"Your majesty!" Popping out of a corner, Trey appeared by your side and scrambled to clumsily curtsy before you. His shoulders trembled with tension as he kept them taut and square. Stupefied, you stumbled back and gawked at him. "Y-Your majesty?"

It was only then did you notice the two fluffy green bunny ears sitting atop his head. He fumbled with an antique pocket watch, taking a quick glance at the clock before hastily stuffing it into his pocket. Trey wore a plaid red petticoat, dark maroon slacks, and a deep lavender bowtie.

"I apologize for these two." He awkwardly chuckled, kicking at the two boys' knees and forcing them into kneeling positions. Nearly toppling over from the force of Trey's kick, both Ace and Deuce hurriedly crouched down before you.

"We apologize, your highness. We didn't realize it was you..." Deuce trailed off, face spiraling into a ghostly pasty white. "Y-You're not going to cut our heads off, are you?"

"Why—in the everlasting fuck—would I do that?!" You swore, scraping your fingers through your hair and tugging at the strands which made your tiara turn askew. "I don't even know what's going on!"

"Neither do I." All of a sudden, a floating grin appeared in the middle of nowhere, manifesting itself out of thin air. Then, a head and body slowly appeared in a cloud of lavender mist. A purple-haired cat-beastman appeared before you, tail swishing around gracefully as he smoked a long hookah.

The cat looked at you for some time in silence, his face obscured by the thick purple mist he was smoking. At last, he took the hookah out of his mouth, and addressed Trey in a languid voice. "My~ You guys are really giving our rose a headache!"

The smoke cleared to reveal a familiar face grinning at you.

"Che'nya?! You're here too?!" You gasped.

"Yes~ Hello, there. Alchemi Alchemivich Pinka at your service," He bows.

"I have to say! It's great to see you here, your highness!" Che'nya chortled, floating up into the air and spinning around playfully. "Your husband turned the entire kingdom upside down looking for you."

Jolting, you pressed your palm flat to your chest in shock. "M-My husband?!"

"Yesss~" Che'nya drawled, floating around without a care in the world. "Your queen has gone mad ever since you've gone, your highness."

"My queen?!" Is your bewildered response.

"Yes, your majesty. Erm...the 'queen' is a he." Trey confirmed. "Queen Rosehearts has been in a state of panic since you've disappeared weeks ago."

Nodding along, Che'nya gestures to the bright red ring on your hand. You gape at the jewel, eyes ripped wide open. Where did that come from? What is with you and random jewelry popping out of nowhere? No, most importantly—you were married to Riddle?!

You tilt your head up, meeting everyone's eyes in a panicked state.

"This is a dream," Slowly backing away, you cradled your head in your hands. The gravity of the situation you were in was finally sinking in.

As you guessed, this was an extremely lucid and well-crafted dream. It had to be a dream. What other reason was there?

Most likely, you were in the forest right now, having fallen unconscious after tripping over that branch. Yes, truly, you must have hit your head somewhere.

In a daze, you gestured to the world around you. "Yes. Yes, this is a dream."

With that logic in mind, you were safely held inside the comforting quarters of your own head. 

"You!" You bellow and point a rigid finger at Deuce. The poor boy tensed up, fear striking him like thunder as you moved towards his incapacitated frame. Grabbing onto the collar of his shirt, you pulled him towards you and spat out an order,

"Punch me." 

Instantaneously, his horror-stricken expression melts into one of confusion. You want him to do what now?

"Erm.." Deuce furrows his brows, closes his eyes and clutches his chin, pondering. 

Surely, it was against the law to punch the Queen's Rose? If Riddle got the slightest whiff of what he's done, he's a dead man. Then again, disobeying direct orders from royalty was also a crime, was it not? 

He was torn.

Deuce sighs, moistening his lips as he meets your frenzied gaze. Ah, well...either way, this was a lose-lose situation for him.

"A-As you wish." Raising his arm, he smashed a rough fist against your cheek. The blow caused your head to violently whip back as you stumbled to the ground. 

Minutes pass and yet, to your chagrin, apart from the growing bruise on your cheek, nothing has changed. You blink incessantly, brows drawn tight together. 

"That's odd. Punching usually does the trick." You murmur, concurrently confused and dizzy. Trey helped you up and considered your condition with reckoning eyes. "Your majesty, have you hit your head somewhere? Or maybe you're sick? You're acting...odd."

"Oh, well—First off, I fell down a rabbit hole. Then there were pillows, tiny doors—and-and other things I can't even make sense of!" You gestured grandly around, acting out the various things you've experienced but Trey doesn't seem to appreciate your ramblings, continuing to stare at you like you were a madman. 

You huff and scoured the vast open gardens as if you could find the culprit who had created this insane world. "This is all so insane, weird, a-and—and mad!”

"Oh, your highness, everyone here is mad. Especially you~!" Che'nya cackled, throwing his head back in amusement. He floated towards you, wrapping his lithe tail around your waist. "Ah, but while I do enjoy the little show you're putting on. We really have to get you back to the castle. Can't really have our kingdom's rose wandering around the forest with memory loss, hm?"

In a snap of his fingers, a map appeared before you.

"This, your highness, is the Red Castle. That's where you reside." Che'nya tapped his fingertip against the very center where an illustration of a castle was shown. It was quite nicely done, nearly to the point of obsessive architectural intricacy.

"Trey, I trust you'll take them there?" Che'nya purrs, head tilting to the side, knuckles pushing up against his cheek.

"Of course. I'll make sure you return home safe, your majesty." Trey responded, one of his bunny ears swiveling. 

Once again, he checked his watch, anxiety gripping him as a trickle of sweat dripped down onto the glass frame. After a while, he pocketed it and reached his hand out to you. "We must leave now. I'm already running late for the unbirthday party. The opening ceremony starts in 3 hours..."

'Curious and curiouser...This is not so bad a dream,' you thought as you intertwined your fingers with his. 'Perhaps I should stay a while.'

ACT III: A WATCHFUL EYE

"Hey! Bunny—We really had to go this way?" Ace groaned, holding onto the train of your skirt as to not sully it on the dirt ground.

"It's the quickest way to the castle. You know we can't waste any more time." Trey pressed, directing your group deeper into the woods. 

"Yeah, yeah! You told me that earlier. I just don't get why I gotta follow? That cat-guy dipped the moment we stepped a foot into this place." Ace pouted, kicking a nearby pebble away.

"Oh, is that so? Well then, feel free to go back." Trey scorned, taking the train of your dress away from Ace's hands and grasping it in his own. "It's not like I'm forcing you to come along. Surely that would make you happier?"

"Fine by me!" The ginger scoffed, crossing his arms and proceeding to go the other way.

Rolling his eyes, Trey pressed a hand by your back and continued guiding you through the forest. Only for you to come to a halt, digging your heels to the ground. "Wait."

"Your majesty?" The bunny noticed how your eyes flickered to Ace's retreating form briefly, concern swimming around your bright orbs. 

"Will he be alright? I'm not so sure he even remembers where we came from..." You sighed. "We can't really leave him behind. Especially in this forest, of all places."

Trey stays silent, a warm smile spreading across his cheeks. Ah, so the tales were true. Tales of the Queen's Rose and their never-ending compassion. Hearsay's of how they pardon offenders sent to the dungeon cells or to the pillory of a guillotine.

"Don't worry, your majesty," Trey chuckled. "He'll be crawling after us in a few minutes."

Shaking your head, you grimaced. "If you say so."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"That damn bunny. Makin' me go into this creepy place." Ace seethed through gritted teeth, stomping back from where he came from. "Like hell I'm wasting my time helping that crazy missy."

As he trudged through the dirt pathway, a branch cracked in the far distance and he froze. Fear gripped him in it's grasp as a cool chill seeped into his bones, creeping all the way up to his spine. 

Ahm...was it just him, or was the sky darker now?

Gulping, Ace's eyes darted around the forest. The wind howled and screeched, the tall decaying branches of rotting trees reached out to him like talons, and the gloomy shadows in the distance morphed into twisted, deformed faces.

Yeah, no. He was out.

"O-Oi! Guys, on second thought, a hike is just what I need!" Ace disputes, struggling for breath as he chased after you. "Guys?!"

As Ace skittered after you, he was completely oblivious to the ominous gaze pinned to his back. 

Obscured behind a cluster of trees, a raven, perched atop a log, looked straight at your group with a lidded stare—unblinking and as still as a statue.

Once you were all out of it's sight, the raven spread it's wings and took off into the sky. It soared through the woodlands, fleetly gliding around the large trees of a forest and wide grassy plains before reaching the Queen's domain.

Grey mist and thin fog cut through the streets of the kingdom while a looming feeling of dread permeated through the air. The past few weeks of searching have not been merciful to the people, it seems. Everyone has felt the full effect of the rose's disappearance.

Once the bird reached the territory of the Red Castle, it swoops and dips down to a balcony. The Knave of Knights stood by his desk in his bedroom, reading over letters and declarations from the Queen. Just a few beheadings to schedule here and there, nothing too difficult.

The loud flap of wings drew his attention away from the desk. A leering smirk stretches across his face as he stands and leisurely strolls over to the bird.

"Birdie~ Back so soon? Have you found them?" He purrs, cocking his head. The leather pads of his glove stroke lightly at the crow's head as it squawks a response. "Hmm~? The queen's favorite trio of lunatics is taking her here?"

Chucking, the Knave clasped his hands around his sallet—lazily pulling his helmet off and allowing his ginger hair to cascade down his shoulders. The iron of his cuirassier plate armor glinted under the glare of the sun, refined and battle-scarred though peculiarly lavishly decorated. It seemed to serve more as a fashion statement than actual protection.

"Well then~ Let's go pay Queen Red a visit, lil' Cay-Cay." Cater muses, scratching the side of his cheek.

"Hopefully that rabbit can handle it. It's going to be MY head on the pillory if she doesn't return home safe."

ACT IV: STRAWBERRY JAM

"SOMEONE HAS TAKEN THREE OF MY TARTS!"

The doors to the throne-room thrash open, smashing hard against the walls. Servants and soldiers alike startled, groveling in fear as they forced their gaze towards the entryway. In all his full glory, the Red Queen appears, adorned in his usual white dress suit. 

His face was tinted in a deep bloody red, pupils dilated into mere pin-pricks, and thin lips stretched out into a snarl. The wisps of his lashes cast a bold shadow across his plump cheekbones, the brush of scarlet eyeshadow above his eyes intensifying his scornful gaze.

Card soldiers frantically scramble to line up by the pathway as Riddle prowls around the room, his signature cape tossed over his left shoulder, dragging along the floor as he went. Snarling, he points his golden scepter to a soldier standing by the end of the line. "Was it you?!"

"N-No my queen..." 

"You?!" Riddle bellows, swiveling his scepter to point to one of your handmaids this time. Whimpering, she shook like a leaf in her shoes, wringing a washcloth tight in her hands. "I-It w-was not me, my queen."

A sudden movement, on the fringes of his peripheral vision, caught his attention. Turning around, his gaze was drawn to a chef standing near the door. The boy appeared to be no more than fifteen years old. Riddle assumed he was a mere apprentice.

The chef popped his fingers in his mouth, seemingly humming at it's taste. How...odd.

Squinting his eyes, Riddle strides towards the apprentice. He approached the boy, pushing him back until his back was flush against the window's tinted glass panes.

"And how about you...?" Riddle seethes, leaning down close to the chef's face. A wobbly grin presents itself on the boy's lips as he stutters out a greeting. 

"Tsk." Tutting, Riddle places his scepter below the apprentice's chin, flicking the boy's gaze up. His crimson eye darts to the side of the chef's lips where a smidge of jam could be faintly seen. 

"Miscreant." Riddle snarls, dragging the boy forward by his apron. Falling forward, the subject scrapes his skin against the floor—a look of horror seeping onto his face as he kneels before his queen. 

"OFF WITH HIS HEAD." Riddle screams, slamming the bottom of his scepter onto the ground which discharged a burst of magic. A collar manifested itself around the chef's neck, so heavy that it weighed his entire upper body down—making him fall.

Panicking, he writhed around on the ground but could not muster enough strength to bring his head up due to the sheer weight of the restraints.

"No! Please!" Indifferent to the pleads of his victim, Riddle scoffs and struts towards his throne, heels noisily clicking against the marble. Moving swiftly, a pair of soldiers grabbed the offender by his arms, dragging him out of the room. As the screaming crook was taken out, the doors shut close with a resounding bang.

"My apologies for the disturbance." Sighing, Riddle reclines against his throne, cape draped across his shoulder and cascading down to his lap. Grumbling, he pushes his hair back—half-lidded gaze piercing through the crowd before him.

"All of you return to your previous duties." He orders. Though hesitant, gradually, the servants resumed to their previous tasks around the castle, toiling silently as to avoid further aggravating the Red Queen. 

Riddle sighs and sinks onto his throne, rubbing at the scorch in his eyes. The warm beaming light of the sun cascaded down his flushed face as he reflected over his previous actions

Was he too harsh with his punishment? After all, you've always resented the way he dealt with delinquents so...intently.

Riddle sighs, tilting his head back. Perhaps he should have—

A frown etched itself deep onto his cheeks. 

No. That chef deserved every bit of punishment sent his way. It was a general and well-known rule in the castle that no one must consume the tarts baked in preparation for an unbirthday party. Only a fool would forget it. 

"It was justified," He huffs. "I am clearly in the right," Riddle consoles himself. 

Behind the draping crimson curtains of the throne room, a tall figure steps out—adorned in a full suit of armor. The Red Queen glances at the stranger, immediately recognizing the tangerine strands peeking out through the openings of his helmet.

"Knave." Riddle murmurs, addressing Cater with a simple glare. Unfazed, Cater bows with a cheery grin before striding over to the queen's side. Plopping himself onto the arm of the chair, Cater leans down to wrap an arm around Riddle. "Hiya~!"

"That was certainly the performance of a lifetime earlier. It was theatre worthy!" The Knave snickers, eyes sweeping across the room, rejoicing at the horrified looks the servants send him. 

'How dare a mere knave like him act so friendly with the red queen?!' He could already hear their hushed whispers. 'Was he mad?'

'Mayhaps.' Cater chuckles, eyes turning dark.

"Anyhow~! Boy, do I have some good news for you." Cater laughs, mood switching over like a light switch. He pulls off his helmet, fanning his face with his hands. "Man, it's so hot in here. Like—Who installed the ventilation?"

Riddle clicks his tongue, pushing the knave away. "I am in no mood for your shenanigans. Come back some other time."

"Ugh, if you say so." Cater sighs, slipping off the throne and turning his back to the queen. "I guess you don't want to hear about how my little pet found your rose. Toodles!"

"What?" Riddle snaps, pulling Cater back by his arm. "Repeat that at once."

Cater smiles. 

He turns to Riddle with a cold dead look in his eyes. "Ara~? Didn't you say you weren't in the mood? Don't worry. I'll come back later. For now, I'll be on my merry way~"

"Do not test me, knave." Riddle seethes, hands coiling tight around his scepter. Cater hummed, waiting a second or so before responding. 

"Little Cay-Cay found her with the bunny and the tweedle duo. They were trekking through the forest." He rasps, toying with the half painted rose brooch on Riddle's suit pocket. "I think that little baker bunny of yours is escorting her here."

"Find them." Riddle growls, baring his teeth. Cater blinked languidly, confusion written all over his features. "Why would I do that? Like I said, they're already bringing her here—"

"I said find them!" The red queen snaps, slamming his fist down onto the arm of his throne. Cater stares at him with a passive expression, unmoving and watching Riddle's every movement carefully.

Well, this certainly ruined his plans. What a travesty.

"As you wish..." He kneels, slipping his helmet back onto his head. "...your majesty." 

ACT V: THE KNAVE

Despite the initial creepiness, it was quite nice to take a walk in the forest. 

Owls hooted and birds chirped in the darkness as golden-orange leaves fluttered in the wind. The soft cool breeze occasionally reached out to caress your cheeks. Nature was at pure harmony with each other here, melting into a single combined melody that provided your group with peaceful ambience.

"The gates are just up ahead. It'll lead us directly to the castle grounds." Trey divulged, tilting his head towards a distant outline of a castle. 

You took a deep breath and took in the crisp woodland air, letting it fill your lungs before exhaling it out. The anticipation of what was to come made your hands clammer as a wave of nervousness washed over you.

"Hi~! Oh, Miss Majesty!" The clippety-clop of hooves made its way towards you. Seated on a gigantic beauty of a black stallion, a rider halted before you. 

"Oh! U-Um..." Gasping, you gathered your skirt and stumbled back. Tilting your head up, you gazed up at the stranger, "Ah...are you some kind of royal guard?"

The mysterious armor-clad rider laughs, shaking his head. "Hmm...close to that! Actually, I'm a knave!" 

"The name is Cater Diamond. At your service." Cater bowed. His horse too mimicked his actions as it bent a knee and curtseyed before you. Giggling, you raised a hand to gently pet at the stallion's mane. It seemed to revel in the gesture as it relaxed and huffed in satisfaction.  

"Ah. Cater, I-I didn't expect to see you here." Trey fiddled with his glasses, a ruminative look on his face. The chef kept himself guarded, stepping a few feet away. Cater side-eyed him, smiling ominously. "Hiyaa~ Trey! Nice to see you and your little tweedle boys."

Deuce and Ace frowned, glaring at the smug aristocrat. Folding his arms over his chest, Trey sighed. "Yeah...nice to see you." 

"Mhm~ Now!" Cater clapped his hands. "While I really do appreciate you bringing our Miss Majesty back to the kingdom...I do believe there's an unbirthday party coming up? Well, it would be best if you commoners—Ah, excuse me—participants went ahead and started preparing."

All three had the same smoldering frown branded onto their faces. They were clearly irked at the not-so-subtle dig Cater sent their way. It’s becoming a bit of a ritual: every time the knave would meet any of them there was always some snarky comment sitting on the tip of his tongue.

"I dunno' if you're blind or anythin', but we're kinda busy." Ace scoffed, tilting his head over to you. "She still has to get into that castle." 

"Ah, about that! Don't worry~ I'll take things over and bring the rose to the castle." Cater grins at you, patting down his horse. "Miss Majesty, wouldn't you prefer riding a great stallion instead of...how horrifying...walking?"

"Oh, I really don't mind walking. I think I'll just—"

"Great!" Before you could finish your sentence, Cater leans down and wraps a firm steady arm around your bottom. You flinch, pushing your hands against his shoulders. "H-Hey!"

"Easy now, Miss Majesty." He hoists you up onto his horse, securely placing you atop the saddle. The train of your dress was now bunched up by your hips as you sat sideways on the stallion. 

"You're so relentless." You huff, smacking Cater's iron clad chest. Only to end up regretting it when your palm started to throb from the impact. Hissing, you drew your hand back.

What a surprise. Who knew hitting someone decked in full armor wasn't a good idea?

“It would be unrefined for me to leave her with someone—someone like you!” Trey bristles, dashing over to pull you off the horse but Cater was quick to shove him away.

“Oh, please, bunny. I insist,” Cater replies firmly. “You're a busy man, Trey. I—of all people—know the importance of keeping a well-ordered schedule and you know fully well how Queen Rosehearts hates being off schedule."

Trey stays silent, keeping his gaze glued to his feet.

Grinning wryly, Cater starts guiding his horse in the direction of the castle. "Well, then~ Toodles! We'll see you three at the party."

With a whip of his reins, both of you were off.

In haste, you turned your head around, bidding adieu to the trio as they waved back.

ACT VI: MAD PARTY

The journey to the castle was fairly long, yet you found yourself enjoying the sights and bustle of the city blurring past you while the people greeted you with robust gaiety and mirth.

When the clouds parted to reveal the sun, you noticed that your eyes stung as you peered up at the strangely pink sky. It wasn't the intense brightness of the sky; rather, it had a shade that brought back memories of late afternoons spent in Heartslabyul, petting pink flamingos while lying on the grass with Riddle's head on your lap.

Following unbirthday celebrations, it was routine for you two to relax while just enjoying each other's company.

Ah, that's right...the unbirthday party. In fact, now that you think about it, there was an unbirthday planned in your "reality" as well. It was the day after today, and the entire dorm was overrun with work.

A painful sting crept up your heart as you remembered the events that transpired earlier. Oh, you must have ruined Riddle's preparations...no wonder he was so livid.

The horse slowed to a stop as you reached the entryway of the castle. It was in essence of a Victorian design. With its mosaic of red cobblestone and brick, it stood there—tall and bold, as though conjured from a child's fairytale.

Cater slipped off his horse and held out a hand for you to take. "Shall we? Ah, but, you do know that your presence is mandatory at an unbirthday party?"

"Yes, I do. We shall." You smile and take his hand as he carries you off the horse, setting you down onto the ground. The knave led you to the back of the castle, where a garden—or, more accurately, a yard—was at.

A big rose-tree at the entryway drew your attention. The roses growing on it were white, but there were two gardeners at it, busily painting them red.

"How curious..." You mutter. "It's just like back in Heartslabyul..."

"Pardon? What was that, your majesty?" Cater questioned, a brow raised. You shook your head, faking a cough. "Ah—Erm—Nevermind that it was just a slip of tongue."

"Oh. Alright..." He regarded you with a skeptical look. "Well then. I'll leave you to it. I have to go fetch Queen Rosehearts."

"Do enjoy the party." With a final bow, Cater strode away, leaving you alone.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The party was bustling and filled with patricians dressed in colorful, silky lavish garbs and glimmering jewels. The majority of the men and women were dressed considerably more extravagantly than you. It was a charming small extravaganza that everyone seemed to enjoy.

They were all huddled around by a grand large banquet table, but you weren't interested in that at all.

Among the guests, you recognized Trey. He appeared to be speaking to a card soldier in a hasty, anxious manner, smiling at everything the soldier said and passing you by unnoticed. The bunny was clearly preoccupied; you decided to leave him be this time.

You turned back to the gardeners painting the rosebushes. What a very curious thing...and you went nearer to watch them.

Just as you came up to them, one of them nearly splashed you with a dash of paint. You pulled your skirt out of the way, narrowly missing a drop of red. "Oh, my!"

"Oi! Look out, Deuce! Don’t go splashing paint over like that!" You peered up at the gardeners, noticing two familiar faces.

Ace and Deuce were engaged in a heated argument, flinging their brushes and buckets around.

“I couldn’t help it! You jogged my elbow!" Deuce snarled, throwing his brush at Ace. Screeching, the ginger dodged it. "Oh yeah! That’s right, Deuce! Always lay the blame on others!”

Deuce flung down his paintbucket, and had just begun to roll his sleeves up "Say that again—” when his eye chanced to fall upon you. As you stood watching them, he checked himself suddenly. Ace looked round also, and both of them quickly bowed low. "Your majesty!"

"You know. You ought to stop fighting if you want to get this done," you mused. "Queen Rosehearts is coming, boys. Make sure to get that done or it's—"

You swiped your finger across your neck, hinting at what was to happen if the two didn't straighten up. "Off with your head."

The tweedle duo visibly tensed up. "Yes, your majesty!" They shouted, rushing back to paint the unblemished white roses. At this moment, Trey, who had been anxiously looking across the garden, called out: “The Queen is here!"

The people gathered by the entryway, and you looked round, eager to see your Queen. Murmurs and whispers spread through the crowd as the procession started.

First came a crowd of card soldiers, decked in military uniforms that were reminiscent of Heartslabyul's dorm uniforms. Then followed the Knave of Hearts, Cater was seated atop his horse, head stuck up high in the air. As he waltzed by, you could hear the murmurs and giggles of young women and men around you. Smiling, you shook your head as he winked at a flustered servantboy. 'What a charmer...'

Last of all, the trumpets blared an ear-piercing blow as the highlight of this grand procession came.

"His Imperial Majesty, His grace, His excellency, His Royal Majesty...The Red Queen, Riddle Rosehearts!"

The people round you bowed down yet you were rather doubtful whether you ought to lie down like them or approach the procession. So you stood still where you were, and waited. When the procession came by you, they all halted.

A moment of pure silence envelops the scene. Everyone in the garden gawked at you, placing you in a spotlight. A bashful smile came upon your face as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "Hi..?"

"Rose." Riddle muttered, shock radiating from his entire being. The scepter he'd been carrying was discarded on the floor carelessly as he surged towards you, dragging you into his arms. Gasping, you eagerly sank into his embrace as the surrounding crowd erupted in cheers. Riddle drew back and pressed his lips heatedly against yours, making you feel faint.

My, the Riddle in this world was certainly much more forward than the one in yours.

"Oh, my dear." Riddle swoons, raising your hands and pressing his lips against your knuckles. "Dearest, I've been worried sick. I thought you'd gone forever."

Heart melting, you whispered, "Well, I'm here now.", and traced the side of his face.

Riddle leaned against your touch; He tucked his arm affectionately into yours and pulled you in to join the procession.

As you soon noticed, you were walking by Trey, who was peeping anxiously at a paper.

"Hello, Trey" You greeted. "—where’s Che'nya?"

“Hush!” He said in a low, hurried tone. He looked anxiously over at Riddle who was preoccupied with adjusting the large bow to your dress. Trey leaned over, putting his mouth close to your ear as he whispered "Che'nya is under sentence of execution."

“What for?” You hushed, eyes wide as a plate. Trey opened his mouth to speak but before he could—you were pulled off into the croquet grounds by Riddle.

"What a lovely day for croquet. Don't you think, rose?" Riddle smiled, pressing his lips against your knuckles once more. He pulled you forward, chest flush against yours as his hands rest against your hips. Stammering, your cheeks burned up at his bold affections. "O-Oh! Yes! Very much! Though I don't know if I have the energy for a game right now."

"Alright then. Feel free to rest a while." Riddle seats you down a round table filled with pastries. Riddle discards his cape, revealing the handsome the 3-piece suit he had underneath.

The queen plucks a rose from a nearby bush and nips away its thorns. He presses a fleeting kiss against your lips whilst threading the rose into your hair. "Stay here, dearest. I'll be back."

ACT VII: OFF WITH HIS HEAD

Well...the croquet game wasn't going so well. The players all played at once without waiting for turns, overeager to get Riddle's attention. They quarreled all the while and ran around scrambling for the hedgehogs and flamingos.

It was complete anarchy.

The very thing Riddle hated.

In a very short time the Queen was in a furious passion, and went shouting “Off with his head!” or “Off with her head!” roughly once every minute. You become overwhelmed in the midst of this mayhem and fled to the safety of the banquet table. There weren't many individuals present. Only a few people lingered and loitered around.

Pouring yourself tea, a hand suddenly wraps around yours as purple mists surrounds you. A second later, a grin appears. "Hello, your majesty."

"Che'nya!" Now fully visible, the cat stops smoking his hookah and blows smoke in your face. "We meet again."

Coughing, you swat the smoke away. "Ufh— Y-Yes! How are you?! I heard you were sentenced to be executed!"

"Oh yes," Che'nya yawned, resting his head atop the banquet table. "I escaped the guards. Queen Rosehearts didn't like it when I took his crown."

"You took his crown?!" You screamed out a little laugh and Che'nya grinned madly. "Yes~ Oh, you should've seen his face when he realized it was missing! It was like a strawberry about to explode! Ah—but you seem quite down. What is the matter?"

“It's the croquette game,” You began, in rather a complaining tone, “Everyone is quarrelling so dreadfully and Riddle's temper has exploded again.”

“Hmmm. Tell me, how do you tolerate the Queen?” said the Cat in a low voice. "Seeing that you're married to him and all, silly girl."

“Well, tolerate is a mean word. He's not all that bad,” You soothed, fiddling with the rose in your hair: "I think you’d take a fancy to him if you could only see just how caring he is."

"People will always look at their lovers with a love-tinted gaze." Che'nya purrs, leaning his head atop yours. "Prime example being you, silly girl~"

"How dare you speak to her that way."

Just then you noticed that Riddle was close behind you, listening. Jolting, you moved away from the cat and accidentally dropped your tea cup. The piece of china clattered to the ground, spilling its contents all over the green grass. Paying no mind to the mess, the queen pulled you towards him, protectively shielding you from the cat.

"I remember you. You're the thief. Tell me, how did you manage to worm your way in here?" Riddle pointedly snaps. "I'll have you know this breaks a rule in the—"

“A cat may look at a king,” interrupts Che'nya, smoking his hookah. "That is the only rule I've bothered to remember and I’ve read that in some rulebook, but I don’t remember which one. There's so many dreadful rules. How do you manage to memorize it all? Ah—apologies—I forget that you have such a big head."

With every passing comment from the cat, Riddle's fury simmered and grew anew. The cat looked up at the royal with a wide grin.

"You are brilliant and astute," he slurred, while Riddle neither acknowledged nor protested the remark. "Yet you are a tyrant and that rose of yours is a willing little sheep."

A deafening silence soon followed. The shock locked Riddle's bones together; a coldness seeping into his bones, making his skin feel akin to ice as his chest filled with hostility and ire. You felt a muscle underneath your throat tighten, but you gave both men a quick nervous smile and nudged Riddle to the side. "O-Oh darling, let's go somewhere else. Maybe you'd like to sit down? I-It's so hot and—"

"Sheep? A sheep you say?" Riddle barks, his hands clenched into fists—trembling at his sides. You wanted to calm him, but did not have the opportunity to do so as his voice cut through the thick tension in the air.

"Why it would be the very height of your arrogance to presume." Riddle seethes, pointing his scepter at the cat. The queen's eyes glowed an immense red, magical energy swirling around him. "As punishment for your crimes...it's off with your head. I'm going to tear your head off with my bare hands if I have to."

"You can try~" Che'nya grinned.

The Cheshire cat lunged towards Riddle, tossing the queen's scepter away. It all moved so quickly that your eye could barely follow the sudden shift of repressed anger to outright violence.

They had gone down to the grass together, knocking the banquet table over, spilling the pastries and tea to the ground. Riddle sagged him by the shoulders, fist smashing against the cat's face. Che'nya's lip had split, and drops of blood fell onto the lawn like the strawberry jam of smashed tarts. 

In the midst of the fight, a glimmering object in Che'nya's hands caught your eye. You saw him grab a stray knife, pastel blue frosting still spread on it, and the sight of it shocked you into action.

"NO!"

ACT VIII: THROUGH THE WINDOW

"NO!" You scream, half of fright and half of anger, and kicked your legs around. Startling yourself awake in a fit, you found yourself lying on top of a clinic bed, limbs soaked in sweat—the smell of alcohol and anti-septics sobering you up. "Wh-What?"

All of a sudden, warm hands cupped your damp cheeks. You met Riddle's worried gaze as he wiped your tears away. The dorm leader slipped into the chair next to your bed, pushing you to lie down. "It's just a nightmare, dearest."

Your gaze flitted around the room, stopping once you saw something shimmering on your bedside table. The tiara was discarded to your side; Its once luminous blue gem was now gone, leaving an empty space in its wake. Looking down, you found yourself in your paint-stained uniform, skin feeling awfully crusty from the dry paint.

'It was just a dream...?' you ponder.

"What's the matter? Please tell me what's wrong." Riddle fussed over your disheveled appearance. Your face perspired with sweat and your hair was a tumble about your shoulders; He combed it with his fingers, careful to not pull at any tangles and knots. "Rose? Dearest? Are you alright?"

No, you wanted to say. It was hard to breathe, and there was a thick, unpleasant feeling weighing down your heart. It made your head spin. Riddle ran a hand up and down your back as you took a deep, shaky breath, trying to reorient yourself. Despite the apprehension in your chest, you gave a single nod to your worried lover. "Yes. I'm just shaken up."

"Love.."

"Everythings fine." You force out. Though, you’re really saying it to yourself. You can't stop the aching in your chest and you surely can't silence the echo of his ruthless words replaying in your mind.

"Oh, dearest." Riddle murmured, his heart breaking.

The redhead slips in bed with you, dragging you in the comfort and safety of his arms. He sighs in relief when you don't push him away, instead scooting over to press against him. The smell of his cologne invades your senses, grounding you as he rests his head against yours. "I am so sorry. I have been too hard on you."

"When Ace found you passed out in the forest, I was beside myself with anguish...." Guilt washed over his face. The dorm leader had no use for pride, not now when you were in this condition. He hopes that his apology, meager though it has been, will be enough.

"Had-Had I known you were sick, I wouldn't have been so—I deeply apologize. I should not have let my anger get the best of me. I was a fool to get so heated over something as simple as spilled paint. I hadn't even checked if you were alright." Riddle mutters.

"I'm sorry too. Though, I'm just glad it's over." You breathed out, resting against his chest. Then you regarded him with a pointed stare. "Humph. You have to make it up to me, though."

"Of course. Thank you, rose." Riddle hesitates for a moment and then, brazenly, leans forward and gives you a quick peck on the lips.

“Oh! How bold~” You tease with a wry grin, giggling madly like a Victorian lady who just held hands with her lover for the very first time. Riddle flushes, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Shaking his head, he composes himself, coughing into the sleeve of his shirt. "Am I not allowed to show you affection?"

"Oh no, I adore it." Chuckling, you reached out your hand, and Riddle eagerly took it. He pressed his lips against your forehead as you stared out the window in front of you.

While the sun sank, the sky was tinged with bleeding reds and violets. You spent the next several minutes wondering whether what you'd just witnessed was truly a 'dream' when you saw a strange appearance in the air. That baffled you at first, but after observing it for a minute or two, you realized it was a sharp toothed-grin.

Sitting on a bough of a tree a few yards off was Che'nya. When he smoked his hookah and blew smoke about himself, a purple magical mist encircled him. The Cheshire cat grinned at you with a split lip before fading away.

How curious.

—TAGLIST:

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[actual-changeling]

i don't know if i will ever write this in full but i cannot stop thinking about crowley and his fear of abandonment & ptsd around losing aziraphale in the fire.

after... everything, when they're finally completely free, crowley does not leave aziraphale's side and suits both of them just fine. there's an itch under his skin that is only appeased when they're touching, a brush of hands here, their sides pressed together while they drink on the couch, his palm against aziraphale's when he takes it like it is the most normal thing in the world, their fingers intertwined.

the steady thrum of his pulse, a whispered i'm here i'm here i'm here that he took for granted for centuries just to have it ripped out of his chest in the most violent way possible.

most of the time, crowley is satisfied with simply looking at him, watching him spoil the plants he brought over with sweet words and gentle care or as he reorganises his books for the third time this week because it still doesn't quite feel right.

(it will never feel right, the books aren't the problem, but crowley stays quiet)

they eat together, breathe together, sit, walk, drink, sleep together, although crowley does most of the sleeping while aziraphale keeps vigil through the night.

it's fine, they're together, so it's fine, really.

it is.

except that his heart stops beating when aziraphale dips around the corner, out of his sight. except that he cannot sit still and leaves burn marks on the carpet when he picks up another record from maggie or tea from nina. except that crowley casts miracle after miracle around the bookshop, just in case someone comes looking, just in case he does not notice in time.

just in case.

and it's fine, except that one night he comes to with tears streaming down his cheeks and sobs wrecking havoc in his chest and aziraphale is gone.

his memory is nothing but blotchy static, but he remembers his legs tangled in the sheets, angel stuck in his throat, and he almost falls down the stairs looking for him, meeting the ground with aching knees and a dull crack when he finally, finally finds him.

thirty seconds of panic. it's nothing, especially for two beings that have lived through millennia.

aziraphale holds him on the kitchen floor (i just went to make tea, my love, it's alright, we're safe, i'm here) and he cannot stop shaking, his body trying and failing to contain the mere thought of losing him again. by the time the sun rises, his face is numb with the pain of violently sobbing into his angel's chest, and the whimpers falling from his trembling lips are not because he calmed; he's exhausted.

it's fine, except that aziraphale's fingers are carding through his hair, and he is warm and solid against him, and crowley is still afraid.

it's fine because aziraphale is safe, they're together, and they both know what it's like to live with one foot out the door and the urge to flee anchored to their bones, so what's the problem with doing it a little while longer?

and it's fine, except that it's really, really not, and he has no idea how to fix it.

[novthewolf]

Two’s company, three’s a family - Part seven

Summary : As a cupid, an angel of love, your mission was to make sure everyone was paired up with the right person. Yet you couldn’t get your two most ancient clients to finally end up together. And despite the 6,000 years spent on the case, you couldn’t bring yourself to give them up, oblivious to the reason…

Pairing : Aziraphale x Crowley / GN!Reader x Crowley / GN!Reader x Aziraphale (polyamorous relationship).

Parts : First - Previous - Next

Masterlist : Here

Warnings : long, too long (someone stop me), animal corpse, implied child death, crucifixion, depiction of h0rnisness, mention of s3x, s3xual undertone, alcool, violence, blood, use of french, angst, nazis, anxiety panic, slow burn, english isn’t my first language.

Words : +19,3k (seriously, stop me)

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Love ? Have you ever really felt Love ?

3004 B.C., Mesopotamia

It might be a strange thing to say, but right now you are actually learning how to walk. Oh, you knew the basics, but you never tried to practice on real soil. It felt weird on your feet, gritty and dry; it kept scratching the skin. A mix of tickles and quite pleasant itches. The reason you decided to come down was not to experiment with new sensations but to actually see why you had to bind specific animals together.

You would have asked the other cupids assigned to the mission if they knew anything, but only the principalities were aware of the actual goal. So, as curiosity overtook you, you made your way to the open land once you reached the limits of the forest. You were taken aback by the seemingly huge boat sitting on the hilltop. There were a lot of people, nicely looking at the strange scene behind some wooden fences.

Your eyes followed the multiple coupled animals, and you smiled, recognising the ones you created. Apparently, humans were leading them to that structure, leaving you more confused than ever. Slowly, you ambled to join the crowd and catch glimpses of conversation to try and understand what was actually going on. You ended up resting your arms on the wood and lifting your feet off the ground to relieve the pressure. When you jumped on your other foot, you bumped your right elbow against someone else's left side.

"Ah, sorry! I didn't see you here." You hurried, turning around to meet the unfortunate human.

"Oh, it's really nothing." The person was reassured. You gulped when you recognised him. It was the guardian angel of the Eastern Gate who stopped you from reaching said gate in the Garden of Eden. "Did you hurt your foot? My, you certainly will without any shoes on." He rambled in a worried tone. You started to worry as well. Did you just permanently damage your ride? By ride, you meant your physical body.

"No, no! I'm fine." You backed out slightly when he reached down for your leg. "I'm an angel too. My feet aren't hurt, I hope, and I never heard of... shoes? Anyway, please don't mind me." You dismissed me, looking for a way out.

He didn't seem surprised that you were an angel too. But your shattered heart missed a beat. You didn't mean to confess that. Does he remember your status? If he is aware, is he informed enough about your kind? No walking on earth, no feelings, no meddling in other angels' business. But instead of accusing you of not obeying your superior, he just nodded and actually miracled you some'shoes'. It was a really sweet gesture; you didn't know how to react. You simply muttered a small and bashful thank you and watched him kneel down in front of you.

You squinted your eyes, distruting the gentle way he took your scratched foot and helped you slide it inside the unfamiliar fabric. Once you were equipped, you trampled on the soil, laughing incredulously. It didn't hurt anymore !

"Thank you !" You exclaimed, giddy. And you were grateful to find that your overexcitement didn't faze him; he smiled brightly and joined his hands.

"Oh, there is no problem at all !" He laughed in a breath. Seeing that he seemed open-minded, you yearned to ask him the questions that burned your lips. However, someone interrupted you.

"Hello Aziraphale." A demon greeted him, his yellow snake eyes fixed on the guardian angel's face. He took place on Aziraphale's right side. You audibly gasped out of fear and embarrassment. Those two were the ones you linked back in the garden ! Plus, having a demon so close was still overwhelming.

"Crawley..." Aziraphale smiled nervously, his eyes going back and forth between you and the demon. That was when the redhead spotted you and tilted his head to the side to see you better.

"Hello there." He grinned with all his teeth. Intimitated, you simply hummed as a hello. Crawley then turned to Aziraphale. "So giving the mortals a flaming sword, how did that work out for you ?" He teased.

"You gave your sword away ?" You blurred out.

The angel huffed, flustered, and took some time to figure out what to say next. "There were really dangerous creatures out of the garden; they needed some protection." He rambled your way, then turned to the demon. "And the Almighty has never actually mentioned it again."

Crawley shrugged. "Probably a good thing... What's all this about ?" He gestured at the whole commotion. You nodded in agreement.

"Did they have a sudden urge to build a floating zoo ? Is it a common occurrence for humans ?" You wondered, truly curious.

"Well, they do have particular little quirks, but I never saw it come to that extent." The demon trailed, not meeting your eyes.

"From what I hear, God's a bit techy. Wiping out the human race. Big storm." Aziraphale gestured, and you smelled moonflower and moss, which you learned to recognise as sadness, even if he didn't show it. While Crawley's scent made you crunch your nose, you turned to him and watched his expression swing from outrage to disbelief.

"All of them ?"

"Just the locals." He nodded with tight lips. "I don't believe the Almighty's upset with the Chinese. Or the Native Americans. Or the Australians."

"What about the animals ?" You asked deeply, worried as you grasped his white sleeve. There was limited contact between you and animals, but every time you spent time with them, you felt a strong pull towards them, and you couldn't help but coo and coddle them.

"Oh no, God's not actually going to wipe out every creature." He flinched at your touch and was slowly pulling away. Despite your need for reassurance, you knew none of your fellow angels liked to touch you, so you let go. You felt the demon's eyes on you.

"You see Noah up there ?" He pointed towards the hill, and both of you looked up. "His family, his sons, their wives, and every couple of animals they brought in, they're all going to be fine."

"But they are drowning everybody else." He sneered, truly peeved. Aziraphale couldn't even answer and rather preferred to nod in agreement with sealed lips. Goats bleated in the background, catching your attention, and you turned around. Kids came running along them, blissfully playing and laughing. You shuddered.

"Not the kids. You can't kill kids." Crawley argued. He felt more disgusted by it than he showed, and you tilted your head to get a better look at him. You didn't expect him to care. Aziraphale hummed, darting his eyes away. Your heart sank, and you gulped.

"Well, that's more the kind of thing you'd expect my lot to do."

Yeah, so why isn't that the case?

As if he sensed your doubt, the angel spoke up again. "Yes, but when it's done, the Almighty's going to put up a new thing called a 'rain bow'" He offered with a smile, but all he could muster was a brow raise. "As a promise not to drown everyone again."

You couldn't help but let out a mix of scoff and a grunt. Crawley shared your distaste for the whole idea and mocked it. "How kind."

"You can't judge the Almighty, Crawley. And mh..." He stopped and turned to you inquisitively. He wanted to know your name. The last time you heard out loud was when... You wanted to slap yourself. Come on, you couldn’t be afraid of your own name, now can you ?

"Y/N." You smiled; you were actually happy to introduce yourself. Aziraphale was very nice, and even if he didn't know who you were or what you were, he was treating you with kindness and respect. You weren't sure if you were happy to know that a demon had learned your name. Oh god, what if he told him ?

"Don't fret; I'm sure God got all of this figured out. God's plans are simply:

"Are you going to say 'ineffable'"? Aw, they end each other's sentences. You almost forgot they were bonded. You smiled at the thought before remembering that you were the cause of it and how forbidden it was. You looked slightly red as you rubbed the back of your neck.

And when you thought you couldn't be more flustered, you felt Crawley skip behind you, brush his body against yours, and settle by your side. You were now as red as whatever was the reddest on Earth, and you completely froze up too. He then proceeded to burst your ears by yelling.

"Oi, Shem ! That's unicorn's going to make a run for it." A unicorn was indeed running away from the gathering towards the forest, and you were deeply alert, as you were the one responsible for its bounds. "Oh, it's too late. It's too late !" Crawley howled again.

Tired of his loud voice, you decided to leave and run after the poor creature. "Thank you for everything! Mmh.." You rushed before turning around, not sure how to respond in a non-monotone voice. "Bye bye! Smooches !" Smooches ? Really ?

You heard the angel echoe "smooches ?" as you sprinted away. Even with shoes on, you had terrible coordination and fell a few times before entering the forest, while seemingly hallucinating hearing Aziraphale's voice call you in the distance. Despite trying your best to catch the unicorn in time, you couldn't reach it in time. Instead, rain caught up to you, and you also had to discover how to swim. It wasn't as much fun.

Thankfully, you were able to fly away and find shelter in a cave, cold gnawing at your fingers and feet. And in that moment, you were the loneliest you have ever been. You hugged your knees and stared at your dreadful-looking arm, but you couldn't help but hope the unicorn was safe on the ark.

The minute the level of the water lowered enough for you to search, you didn't waste a second. You roamed for hours, your hair and clothes muddy and wet, tangling around your face and body. A few branches scratch your skin, and pebbles disrupt your messy scout. The sun shone through the branches of the wrenching trees remaining on the land.

That was when you found it. Your breath hitched in your throat, considering the sight in front of you. The water had carried it to the canopy, where the remains of lilac bushes lay still. The long legs of the unicorn lay on the sludge-covered ground. Its beautiful long white mane is all tangled and scattered all across its face, its eyes still open and terrifyingly empty. You didn't even feel your feet move or the tears pouring down your cheeks—just crushing fatigue. It was dead. You were the one who paired it, and now it is gone. God, if you had been faster... Suddenly bursting with adrenaline, you ran and jumped at its side, like you wished you had before it was too late.

You hugged the unicorn's neck as tight as you could, holding on to the vain hope that a heartbeat would be heard. But all you could feel was the wet, cold white coat of the beautiful creature. You couldn't bear to let go; you didn't want to leave it alone. Curled up against its shoulder, you waited. The faint sound of thunder rang through the sky, urging you to look up to that shallow promise that would never make up for anything. Not for the losses, not for the pain. You wish you didn't feel the hurt, but you will be damned if you ever forget the cruelty of that moment.

Footsteps slowly made their way to your miserable form. Your eyes opened on their own, and you looked over to see who interrupted your grieving. And as you thought your heart couldn't be more broken, you let out a desperate cry. Crawley stood there, his golden eyes empty, but his face showed profound sorrow, looking as messed up as you did. A small body draped in a white-drenched sheet was held against his chest. The tightness of his hold reminded you of your own, but the delicacy of his touch made him look so vulnerable. He started walking once again, seeking your eyes, and you felt his misery, adding to your own.

Gently, he rested the small body against the side of the unicorn and patted its head.

"It's not fair." You sobbed, your heart clenching violently, the broken pieces piercing through your lungs.

He kneeled down, seemingly paying his respects like you've seen humans do. "God doesn't exactly do 'fair', if you hadn't noticed."

His red hair hid his face from you, but so did his distress and deep anger. It confused you. Of course you understood how he felt; you just didn't get why. Was it just because it was in his nature to thwart her wishes? But shouldn't he cheer on so many deaths and tragedies? Laugh at pain and suffering, like you have been used to.

"It's just... so cruel, and... I don't..." You couldn't finish the sentence before breaking down in tears. Crawley studied your face, followed the path of your tears, and finally focused on your clenched hands. He inhaled deeply, turned around, sat cross-legged, and gazed up at the sky.

"You might have too much of a sweet heart." In a cheerless joke.

You looked up and saw the majestic bow that adorned the clearing sky among the deadly clouds. It felt like a cynical joke played on you. Mocking you for the naive hope that justice was something God actually cared about.

But... as you peered over the furious demon grieving at your side, you felt less alone and strangely understood. Slowly, your hand went up and down his right arm to soothe his boiling heart, dusting off petals of lilac. He turned around, and you gave him a sad smile.

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33 A.D. Golgotha

It's safe to say you were heavily reprimanded for disappearing like that and letting a unicorn get away, because now, thanks to you, they were all extinct. Great job once again; you kept to yourself. Of course, you didn't mention your encounter to anyone.

And yet they didn't punish you; instead, they put you in charge of their new project, "Jesus." He was an incredible human; he was so full of love and kindness that you suspected they used the essence of the Bound itself. Those thirty-three years were fantastic, and you sure were able to stock up on love. You just wish it didn't have to end so soon.

Now here you were, completely defeated. They always had to do that, didn't they? Someone walked up to you and poked your right arm to get your attention. Surprised, you flinched and turned slowly with wide eyes.

"Oh, Aziraphale." You smiled, happy to see him here, since for some reason he was joyful, despite your circumstances. You had decided to give into your heart, only feeling what other people felt. And also, the filter might be broken; it seemed to work just fine with the guardian angel. He was certainly cheerful to be in the presence of the'son' of God, so it felt nice to feel the same.

Aziraphale smiled in return. "Hello Y/N." He then turned to the scene, and his brows frowned. You couldn't help but stare, like you did in the garden. What about him made you stare? You weren't sure, but you were dead set on noticing all the little details of his expressions. He was so expressive, whether it was through his mouth twitching, teeth gritting, or eyes glittering and squinting. The same goes for his smell; you were sure you could guess everything that was going on inside his head.

"Were you assigned to him ?" The gentle voice whispered, as if not to startle you. You thought about your answer. It wouldn't be logical if only cupids were to care for him, so it wouldn't blow your cover. But why did you want to keep lying so much? You slapped yourself mentally. Because he was a principality, because you showed too much emotion for a heartless being, and because you fricking bound him like a demon! But he was so nice, maybe he wouldn't mind... No.

"Yes, I followed him for most of his life." You smiled quickly but definitely stopped gawking his way. "He is a wonderful person." Tears welled up in your eyes, but you knew his existence was still worth it.

The disturbing sound of cracking bones, the hammer, and Jesus's words brought you back to reality, away from the memories. Why do humans never acknowledge good or beautiful things without having to break them? Love was a tricky concept to them, and they didn't really know when to let things be. Because, come on, he was betrayed by a kiss. They used love and trust as weapons. Humans would rather choose hatred and ignorance if it meant they were right and their pride would remain intact.

"Yes, humans can be dreadful creatures. sometimes." The angel nodded. You looked up, flustered. Being used to having yourself as your only companion made you forget to close your mouth and not get lost in your  reflection."

You flinched when he screamed, and you averted your eyes to the ground. A long black robe came into your view. Climbing up from the dry soil to the eyes of the newcomer, you smelled the spice of the naga viper. Crawley was indeed quite angry, alright ?

"Hi Crawley." You greeted me while taking a step closer to Aziraphale, away from the smell.

He acknowledged your presence with a smile and a nod, and you felt the angel stare behind you. You turned around to identify the emotion slithering from Aziraphale, but it was already gone. Still, he was fidgeting with his fingers and slowly backing away.

"Come to smirk at the poor bugger, have you ?" The demon inquired of Azirphale.

"Smirk ? Me ?"

"Well, your lot put him on there." He shrugged.

"What ?" Your incredulous voice resounded louder than you thought. "I thought it was the hate demons." You grasped Aziraphale's sleeve for support, and you fixed him. And he didn't pull away.

"Well, it was, but we, in a sense, let them put him there." He tried to explain the best he could while preserving Heaven's integrity. "And I'm not consulted on policy decisions, Crawley. Otherwise, it would have been a more merciful death." He finally assured you, and you let go, unsure and overall confused.

"Oh, I've changed it."

The two of you turned to Crawley. "Changed what ?" You asked.

"My name. ' Crawl-y' just wasn't really doing it for me. It's a bit too... squirming-at-your-feet-ish." You chuckled at his explanation.

"Well, you were a snake." Aziraphale smirked, and his brow ticked in a teasing manner.

He was? You gulped and bit your lower lip. Thoughts came in a whirlwind into your mind, and you certainly weren't listening to anything they were saying. God, how many mistakes have you committed? The unicorn, the forbidden bound, and letting the snake tempt Adam and Eve into eating the apple. You were a complete catastrophe.

"Did you ever meet him ?" You heard Aziraphale ask.

The step you tried to take back was stopped by confusion. They were supposed to be linked, and when that happens, the people involved spend a lot of time together, as one would expect. So logically, they would at least know if the other had met someone as important as Jesus. What if... You visualised the surrounding bounds, the complete, yet-to-be finalized and the multitude of possibilities. You darted down to observe the bound of the two and realised you were standing in the middle of it. And to add to your feeling of failure, you realised the bound was anything but completed.

You can't even get that right; you mocked yourself. Laughter and tears wanted to escape your throat. Maybe it was for the better, but still, you couldn't bear to be the reason two people couldn't be together, especially not with such a beautiful bond. Perphas, you could try to shoot them one last time. You considered the thought for a moment and slowly decided against it. That was until you heard Jesus cry in pain once again.

"Oh, that has got to hurt." Crawl—no, Crowley hissed. You sniffed, but a small smile settled on your lips. The sound alerted the angel that spined to see you.

"He'll be alright, dear." He reassured me while tilting his head to the side to get a better look at you.

"For sure. Like I said, he's a bright man who wouldn't even hurt a fly; he'll go right up there." Crowley assured me too, gazing up at the sky.

You scratched your arm and hummed in response. Jesus was being horribly tortured for the ideal that love was the best thing life had to offer, and he priotized beyond anything else. The feeling was mutual; you wanted to live by that, if only your peers didn't make it sound so out of place. But you thought the least you could do to honour your philanthropic companion was to respect his beliefs.

"I'll be heading home... I'm heading to heaven. Gotta prepare for his arrival." Your eyes were lost staring at some rock on the ground before retreating away and weaving. "Bye, bye."

"You're sure-" Aziraphale tried, but you were already gone, middling in the crowd where you belonged. A faceless stranger that no one recognised. You turned your blindness spell on and flew up in the sky. You glanced down on the pair and laughed to yourself while aiming. Hopefully you wouldn't have to shoot them again, but come on: how many more arrows would this bound need ?

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41 A.D. Rome

Your invisible form was flying through the streets of Rome at a daring speed. Footsteps running on stone pavers and clothing rubbing against the rough surfaces of the city walls rang in the air. The giggles of the youthful couple were mixing with your own as you twirled around in pure delight. Oh, the sheer happiness of being young and deeply believing that their first love story would last forever.

It might be surprising to hear for some, but cupids were not shooting at every couple. It is your principal job, but most importantly, you were supposed to make sure the world's boundaries were constantly supplied with love. Of course, bounds were the most secure way of ensuring it; not every love story was meant to last forever. And young love is one of the most powerful types, beside unconditional love, as it is filled with hope and innocence.

The young man suddenly grabbed his lover's hand and pulled him into a small, secluded alley. You clapped your hands and soared up in the sky to land on the rooftop of a house. You crawled your way to the hedge of it and gawked down on them with a wide smile. The smaller boy was backed against the wall while his partner was smothering him with kisses on her nose, cheeks, and throat. His arms were passed around his neck as he hugged him lovingly. You supported your head with your hands settled against your cheeks.

The taller boy separated himself from his neck, and he used this opportunity to kiss him passionately. A huge wave of love came rushing up to you, and you inhaled it with vigour, both with your nose and mouth. It raised you on your knees and made you fall down on your back. You basked in the reinvigorating feeling and strung out profusely. The cold stone made the exposed skin of your legs shudder, but the warmth you felt in your heart surpassed any other sensations. It filled your stomach, and you were completely sated.

You hummed deliciously and observed the sky. Now, you were thirsty and still riled up from the emotion, and as always, you didn't know how to manage the thrills coursing through your system. As you came to understand, humans had different ways of dealing with such stirs. The more your body experienced, the more you contemplated your options; you just didn't have the guts to try. Whether it was food, sleep, or sex, You didn't know why; you just had that urge to be human.

Of course, it was absolutely inconceivable for your fellow angels and certainly for the demons too, if you were honest. It was just a different side of yourself that you started to discover. As strange as it is to say, acknowledging to yourself that you made terrible mistakes on Earth made you feel wonderfully uninhibited. You just lack the courage and actual safety to try.

Being unable to talk to anyone about it made you feel so insecure and scared. What if something went wrong ? What if your gifted body wasn't made to experiment anything 'humanly'? Oh Jesus, what if you exploded?! Yes, you had an inexplicable fear of exploding, and you had no idea where it came from. You just needed someone to... Well, actually, you just needed someone.

You rolled to your side and listed all the endeavours you wanted to throw yourself into when you felt an oddly familiar presence. You were alone most of the time; no one was really 'homey' in your heart. So, you kept rolling towards the busiest street, forsaking the lovey-dovey couple. It was a restaurant, and a busy one at that. Still, you managed to spot a red-headed man with much shorter hair than you remembered.

You looked down at your hands, still doubting the choice you made eight years ago. To appease your mind, you slipped down and called off the spell. Maybe they were on a date. Did they eat food ? Yes, you had your priorities neatly organised.

You peeked the upper part of your head through the door frame and found Crowley sitting alone on a stool. Scanning around the restaurant, you were met with the queer sight of Aziraphale playing on his own. Well, maybe it was a tradition of theirs...

"What have you got? Give me a jug of whatever you think is drinkable." He leisured. It peaked your interest, but you didn't initiate any movements. You watched intently when you saw Aziraphale get up from his seat and go up to the demon.

"Crawley- Crowley ? Well, fancy running into you here." Damn, they are definitely the least communicative couple you have ever encountered! Certainly, a bound like that would make it so much harder for them to be apart. You flashed your eyes pink, and that was when you summoned your vision. And you felt like screaming. Their link was still incomplete !

"Y/N ? Golly, it's quite a reunion." Aziraphale chuckled, clapping his hands. He gestured for you to come to the counter too. Unsure, you tiptoed your way towards them. Your mouth opened slightly when you saw the two drinks lying there.

Aziraphale followed your eyes and chirped. "Oh, where are my manners? Would you like a drink too, dear ?"

You blushed and started playing with your fingers. "I never consumed anything from Earth." The stutters you let out doubled the intensity of your embarrassment.

"Anything ?" Crowley insinuated, even though you didn't catch what he meant. The angel did, though, and tsked in a reprimanding tone.

"Still a demon, then?" He gave him a side eye.

The redhead snarked in response. "What kind of stupid question is that,'still a demon?' What else am I going to be, an aardvark?" The angel didn't listen, however, and ordered a drink for you.

You looked down, feeling like you were overstepping a private discussion. Sheesh, your shot has been totally useless, heh? You were really good for nothing, cupid, now were you? "It's really nice of you, but..."

"Here you go, apple and pear juice." The bartender served you right before you could slip away. You eyed the goblet and sniffed the sweet smell of appel and pear, the scent of endermant.

"Don't worry, the taste is way sweeter than house brown; it'll be easier for a first try." His round hand was handing you the drink, and you gently grabbed it, brushing your fingers against his. Bubbles were twirling in your stomach at his consideration.

"Thanks." You mumbled. Crowley huffed with a smirk. When you met his gaze shyly, he winked and grabbed his own cup. A gentle and warm sensation envelopped your body, and you held your cup closer to yourself.

"Salutaria." Aziraphale cheered and went to clank both of your goblets. You and Crowley met him in the hallway, and the vibrations caused your skin to create goosebumps. You enjoyed the feeling, especially when you ran your fingers alongside the texture, like you were doing unconsciously on your right arm. Freezing mid-thought, you rushed to see that your heavily scarred forearm was exposed for anyone to see.

Hiding it in such a hurry caused the pair to study you. You forced out a laugh and raised your glass again. "Heh, a moment of hesitation." You said this before bringing the cup to your lips. In the corner of your sight, you saw the angel moisten his lips.

"So, why are you in Rome for?" Crowley wondered, not caring at all for your discovery, as he finished his drink. You hummed in delight; your taste buds felt like exploding. You darted your tongue out and rolled it around the bit of honeyed pear that couldn't quite enter your mouth. Crowley gulped audibly, as he apparently didn't finish his bevarage as you thought he did.

"Mmh... I thought I'd try Petronius' new restaurant." Adding to the fruity liquid, a heavy wave of macarons and rosé made its way to your nose. You laughed breathlessly, and you were brought back to the conversation. "I hear it does remarkable things to oysters."

"I've never eaten an oyster." Crowley confessed. Do people eat rocks? You tilted your head, confused.

"Oh, well, let me tempt you to..." Aziraphale started, making you gasp.

You weren't the only one spurred up by the vocabulary of the angel; Crowley suddenly turned around to meet his gaze. That is when you noticed he covered his eyes. Despite this, Crowley still looked somewhat exasperated for some reason but was giving hints of macarons as well. Perphas, they were so flustered because you caught them on their date.

"No, that's—that's your job, isn't it?" His expression was tight, laughing through his teeth, his eyes going back and forth between the two of you.

To make sure you weren't the problem, you tried to suggest you join them on their little trip. "I might try an oyster."

He sputtered, realising the mistake he had made. "Oh God... Mh, the taste might be a bit too rich for you." You licked your lips, chasing the saccharine flavour. Crowley looked etched and suggested something out of sympathy.

"They'll be simpler food..."

You put the goblet down and backed. "Don't mind me, I'll see myself out; I still have some, huh, miracles to do!" It was a lie, of course; your lot didn't perform miracles on a daily basis, but you didn't think much of it. Oddly enough, lying didn't bother you that much.

You were so ashamed. You didn't understand why your bow didn't work. Some couples weren't easy to finalise, but you had already shot them twice. Plus, their bound wasn't strained or weak; it wasn't a technical mistake. So why ? "Have fun." You hoped your smile would encourage them to dine together, in spite of your interruption.

"Y/N-" The crowd already covered your body, while you wasted no time scampering away. The moment you were out of breath, you had arrived at the market. Inhaling deeply, you straightened yourself up, trying to sort out your thoughts. Obviously, something was wrong, whether it had to do with you or with them. If it failed not only once but twice, it's because it wasn't meant to be at all. Continuing would be pointless; you had to give them up. You had to.

Why, in the name of love, could you not make up your mind around the idea? Why couldn't you shake off the feeling of excitement you felt when those two were together? Certainly, a bound that would send such love could not be a miscalculation. They made you feel so good, and the theory of your possible addiction is becoming much more plausible now. But you refused to get addicted to them. You had to leave them; if they were meant to end up together, they would eventually do it on their own.

"Would you like to try an oyster, dear customer ?" A merchant interpellated you, since you had stopped only a few steps away. You observed the display of rocks and took a curious look at the seller.

"How do you eat them?" You asked.

"It's easy; come see." He called you over. First, he held the head in a firm grip and brought a knife to the tail of the pebble. He then twisted the knife around and finally slipped it inside. You raised one brow at your own dirty mind and looked away. Finally, as you didn't watch the rest of the show, he levelled the now-open rock to your face. "And you eat what's inside."

You studied the bogger-like thing and sluppered the whole thing, afraid of the taste. And surprising enough, you loved the taste of it, even if the viscous consistency made it hard for you to properly touch it with your tongue. You wondered what it would have been like if you went with Aziraphale and Crowley.

Jesus, you wanted to slap yourself. Stop thinking about them; you couldn't break your new resolution so quickly. And still, the thoughts kept rushing in! How caring the angel had been when he offered you a gentler beverage. The strange device that rested on Crowley's nose, which hid his pretty yellow eyes, The visible fluffiness of Aziraphale's whole being. Or the sweet gesture Crowley had for you, even though you had imposed yourself between him and the white-haired man.

Ok, you are ceasing at all, Y/N; this is ridiculous. You just had to be a burden, now don't you? All of a sudden, a hand tapped on your shoulder, but you were too irritated to answer politely.

"What ?" You snapped and shook the hand right off your shoulder.

And you turned around. You were sadly met with a slack-jawed Mihael, a colleague and former friend of yours, before the war. She was walking—well, you thought she did—but she still floated a few inches above the ground. Her dark pink eyes scanned your face, your fully expressive face, and trailed down to where you lay. She saw you eating, walking, and feeling. Oh God, she saw you snap, broodi, and enjoy. Worst of all, she was, out of all the cupids, the most documented about your situation. Mihael knew. It made her terribly dangerous.

"Please..." You pleaded, reaching out to her, but it only made it worse. She pranced as if she had been burned by your aching hands. Wors couldn't align together.

"Mihael, wait !" You ran after her, but she had already taken off and activated her blindness spell. "No, for heaven's sake !" You then tried to scream your disapproval out of your heart. Running away was the first thing that popped into your mind. Maybe go to the bottom of the abyss to properly cool down. That's how Mihael would come back, or if you were summoned, you'd be perfectly capable of faking your emptiness.

You sighed and detected the scent of desire. It was a brothel—a fancy one. You contemplated the idea of entering and finally deciding to indulge in your sinful interests. Hey, you were about to spend a fair amount of time away from all civilization, not even having light as your company. It would just be another line you'd cross, but you stopped counting the moment you bound an angel and a demon together.Oh God, could you just stop thinking about it? Ugh...

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* 

1354, Balkan merchant caravan, Greece

"We can't just keep every infant we find, Y/N. She's not our kin." Elif lectured you severely. Who was Elif, you may ask? He's the head of the merchant group you've been following for a couple of months. You had met him and his wife a few years ago, for obvious reasons, and now you travel with them in the hope of providing the parental love the two craved.

However, they were never able to conceive. So when you found this little baby girl, you knew she needed them as much as they needed her. Convincing Nazli was easy, Elif—eh, not so much. He wouldn't have an unknown baby as his child.

"We will give her to the next village with a stop-by, and that's final." He gave you a stern look and walked away to the group of men gathering around the fire.

It would have been easy to use an emotional orb to persuade him to keep her, but you knew their link would be hollow and fake; it would never last. You sighed and caressed the chubby face wrapped in a tight blanket, nested in the woman's arms. Her eyes pleaded your way, and you sent her a wave of reassurance.

"I'll take care of it, love. Don't worry." You smiled. You jumped out of the caravan and stretched your arms and back. The night sky was truly a beauty. On the day of your creation, though it's all a blur, you remember that it was also the same day all the stars were brought into existence. It was incredible, a majestic moment you wished you could recall more clearly, but your mind was funny like that.

You sighed, the memories of your last meeting with Mihael coming back to the surface, as you did four hundred years after you spent sleeping in the ocean. Honestly, you didn't mean to sleep; it was just all so peaceful, you couldn't help it. She hadn't said anything to Jophiel or Chamuel, not even her own linked! You were so thankful for that. Adriel was a real pain in the ass.

She came to you, more worried than anything else. I apologise until your ears bleed; you still didn't show the full spectrum of your emotions. You didn't trust her. All Mihael did was warn you, advise you to show minimal emotion, and keep better track of your environment.

Following her recommendation, you strayed from your kindness while still providing enough love so they would let you be. Through all your experiences, the distance between you and your peers grew larger, and even if you shared your emotional capacity, you knew you were a freak. It was all too strong. You felt alone in your emotions. Alone in the world. Under the vast canopy of the night sky, with stars twinkling like distant beacons of hope, you stood alone in the deserted land, your heart heavy with a profound sense of isolation. The world around her seemed to fade into insignificance as she gazed up at the infinite expanse above, feeling small and insignificant against the backdrop of the cosmos.

As you traced the patterns of constellations with your weary eyes, a wave of emptiness washed over you, engulfing you in a sea of solitude. Each glittering star seemed to mock you with its unreachable brilliance, a reminder of the vast distances that separated you from the rest of your kind. The soft breeze brushed your hair, bringing along a particular smell. Images of a certain red-haided demon flashed through your mind. A gasp fell out of your lips, and your heart swelled, beating wildly. You searched franticly, bouncing on your toes.

The moment you spot him, you want to rush and greet him, but his posture and behaviour stop you. Crowley is standing next to a caravan, seemingly hiding behind it. Confused, you take baby steps towards him and wait. Once you arrive near him, you get to see what he was watching.

Thieves and barbarians were steathly making their way down the hilltop to the merchants. They were barely visible to the eye; the bright glow of the campfire seemed to warn the good people, but no one seemed to notice. You bit down on your lip when you realised it was certainly your friend's work. Friend ? You meant the client. The anger you felt wasn't directed at him, and it surprised you.

Well, no, what surprised you the most was his next action. While you thought Crowley was here to supervise everything that went smoothly, he instead did something unexpected. He straightened up, raised his hand, and snapped his fingers. You frowned, completely lost. Now, you were standing right behind him, peeking to see the scene unfold.

A huge piece of marchandise rolled out of a cart, one facing the approaching criminals. Elif, who had been conversing with his men, snapped his eyes at the bag before scanning the area around it. Including the bushy hill. The man spotted the group and alerted the others to get ready to fight or hide. You gasped and glanced over Nazli and the baby, but they were far enough away and well hidden.

Your eyes soften at the realisation of what Crowley just did. He also seemed quite satisfied with his actions, and you knew he was congratulating himself. Yeah, you smelled the mix of whipped cream and blueberries. A smug smirk appeared on your face, and you decided to scare him just a bit.

"How much has changed since I left?" You spoke up playfully, making sure to be as sudden as possible. And your wish was answered when Crowley spun around violently, screaming and bolting away from you.

You laughed despite yourself, but the demon was too stunned to really care. "Y/N ?! You scared the hell out of me!" He crowed.

"It seems like you didn't need my help for that." You accused me teasingly, a brow raised.

His widened eyes finally shrank down, and he gulped. "It's not what it looks like." His voice sounded almost pleading, tugging at your heartstrings.

"Crowley, it's okay. I ain't going to denounce you." You took a step forward and tilted your head. "But I will ask you questions." The struggles of battle could be heard, with the thieves charging at the campers.

He groaned and ran a hand in his hair. It grew longer since the last time, probably multiple times since it had been centuries since you two encountered each other. It seemed to be tied into a low ponytail, and his clothes were still as black as the night, in comparison to yours, which were always colourful.

"So... why are you doing the angels work ?"

He sighed and took some time to respond, allowing the gooshing sound of blood hitting the ground to fill the air. "I guess I could tell you..." Crowley took off his glasses and searched into your eyes. In return, you offered him an encouraging smile.

"Me and Aziraphale made an arrangement... We stay out of each other's way and help when we can." He crossed his arm against his chest, leaning again against the caravan.

"Seem simple enough..." You shrugged before frowning. "Don't... don't Heaven and Hell suspect anything ?" Your voice reflects your concern.

A dagger was thrown your way. Crowley grabbed onto your sleeve and pulled you out of its trajectory, next to him. "Nah, they never suspect anything; you know how they are." He tried to act casual, but you did smell relieved that you didn't freak out.

You hummed and chuckled. "Yeah.." A kind of comfortable relationship settled between the two of you, but you couldn't shake the awakening remaining. Leaving abruptly and disaperating for centuries will do that for you.

"Where have you been ?" The redhead inquired.

You inhaled deeply before answering. "I visited the abyss for a while, and... I kind of fell asleep."

Crowley's impressed smile echoed your embarrassed one when he turned toward you. "You fell asleep ?" He nagged with a chuckle. "For how long ?"

"For about four centuries..." You rubbed the back of your head. The air abruptly carried the piercing cries of the infant, grabbing your attention and sending them right back to your clients. You gasped sharply and held your breath. Two barbarians were sprinting towards the poor woman and the baby. Nazli did her best at keeping them at bay, swinging her sabre around and cutting them off enough to prevent them from getting closer. But their patience was running thin.

"Nazli !" Alerted by gut-wrenching cries, Elif called out to his wife, his eyes widening with terror. But he had no time to think; no, he rushed into action. The chief slashed his way to his love, not stopping for anything. Not even the cart right in front of him, where you and Crowley were currently leaning against.

"Wow." The two of you mused in chorus as the chief jumped right over your heads and landed right behind the two men. He brought his long, curvy dagger to the first's throat and slit it wide open. The cries of the baby kept ranging through the air as you watched in awe and slight disgust as the crimson liquid poured down in a thick puddle on the soil.

"Ew." You murmured, earning a scoff from Crowley, who observed the scene with arms crossed over his chest. The other thief punched Elif in the face, but he couldn't care less. He spit out a mixture of blood and saliva and then plunged his dagger into the attacker's chest with all the rage he could muster.

"Mh, talk about killing for love." Crowley commented. But didn't answer. Instead, you looked at the scene tenderly. Elif helped his wife get out of the caravan, putting his hands around her and the baby. That's when the infant instinctively grabbed onto the man's finger. By the way his breath caught in his throat, you knew it pulled right at his heartstrings. You couldn't help but smile like a complete goof.

After what felt like hours, the marchants finally won their battle. Now was the time to mend wounds and sooth souls. Crowley stayed with you the entire night, giving you two hours to catch up. And despite how much you struggled to admit it, you did enjoy spending time with him. Not because he was a dreadful company, quite the opposite. But you knew you had to keep your distance.

Right now, you sat next to each other, watching the spouses cuddle the baby. In the soft glow of the rising dawn, Elif and Nazli sat side by side next to the fire, their hands clasped together in a silent gesture of love and solidarity. The room was bathed in the warm hues of sunrise, casting a soft, golden light upon their faces.

"Nazli." Her husband began, his voice filled with emotion, "I've been thinking a lot about what you said... Maybe we should take her in."

Nazli's eyes lit up with delight, her heart swelling with gratitude for the man she loved more than words could express. You swore in that instead, as you smelt the intoxicating scent of love, you could sink back into the deep abyss and leave solely on the memory of their love.

"Oh, Elif.." She exclaimed, her voice trembling with emotion. "Do you really mean it ?"

Elif nodded, a smile spreading across his face as he reached out to gently caress his wife's cheek. "Yes." He replied, his voice filled with conviction, "I mean it with all my heart. I want nothing more than to offer you the family you always wanted." His hand caressed the small baby's hair. "Offer her the family she needs. Little Qamirah." He smiled foundly.

Tears of joy welled in Nazli's eyes as she threw her right arm around her husband, pulling him into a tight embrace. "Thank you, my love," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. You smiled tenderly and glanced towards Crowley, your hand gesturing to the couple. He smiled softly and rolled his eyes in anoyance, but you knew how he truly felt.

You retreated from the wholesome, resting your head back against the wooden cart. "Maybe this deal isn't such a bad idea after all."

Crowley mirrored your chuckle. "I guess you could be added to the contract." He jested teasingly.

You gasped happily and smiled. "Really ?"

"Sure, but it'd be best if you stayed on the surface of Earth for that." He nudged your elbow with his own.

"Don't worry." You streched your back and raised your covered arms high in the sky.

Crowley frowned as he took notice of the clothing. "Afraid you'll get a tan?" He teased.

You bit your lip and caressed your right arm. "Nah, more like a fashion choice." You winked. Crowley laughed hoarsely and then streched up his arm. You watched softly as he got up and dusted himself off.

"I'd love to stay, but I got some reel demonic work to do." He waved off and had already started to walk away. In a matter of seconds, you got up and followed after him. Somehow, you didn't want to let him leave, at least not this way.

"Wait !" You called, and Crowley stopped midstep.

"What ?" He turned softly.

Instead of answering, you sprinted towards your caravan and grabbed a plant you had snatched when you went to the other side of Earth and spent time with the Tupi-Guarani ivilization. They have wonderful, complex social structures, rich oral traditions, and extensive knowledge of the natural world. Ah, what a wonderful vacation !

You pulled out the plant; they called it the flower of the moon. It was a stunning plant, prized for its graceful, glossy foliage and elegant white flowers. With its lush, dark green leaves that arch gracefully from the base, the moon flower produces delicate, white flowers with a central spadix surrounded by a white, petal-like spathe. "There you go!" You handed it to him with a bright smile.

Crowley observed this little beauty of nature before looking up at you with an unimpressed expression. "A plant ?"

You rolled your eyes. "Not just a plant, a moon flower. But it's so great to have one of those! You never really feel alone."

His bright yellow eyes stared into your own before he smirked. "It was time for you to emmerge, sweetheart." He nagged.

You pouted and nudged his arm. "Shush. Take the plant, a gift for everything you taught me." He groaned and took it anyway.

"Just so you know, if it dies, it's not my fault." His warning made you chuckle.

"I'll keep that in mind." You winked. "Thank you for your help." He simply nodded as a goodbye before disappearing from thin air.

As you stood there, you felt loneliness crawling its way back onto your shoulders. All the while you stayed with the demon, you never once felt alone. And more than that, you truly experience true understanding, and it was so refreshing... The irony of the situation was truly oddly amusing to you. You didn't trust another cupid, one of your kind, to display every emotion you could have. But it felt so natural to do so with a guardian angel and a demon. Swallowing with difficulty, you observed the newly founded family and felt something echo deep into your soul.

You laughed—a mixture of disbelief and strange relief. Not only were you one of a kind, but you also found out that you weren't alone in this. Yep, maybe you could indulge yourself in their company... Just a tinsy bit...

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* 

1793, La Bastille, Paris

"Rattrapes la, bon sang!" You yelled at the young woman, hoping she would finally decide to run after her friend.

"Non, Y/N." She dismissed her sternly, though the tears threatened to leave her eyes. "Elle a fait son choix; c'est son problème." Turning away from you, she hid her feelings for her friend from you. At least she tried.

You groaned and added exasperation. "Elle a juste eu peur, Lucie. Robespierre est en train de couper des têtes à la volée; c'est tout à fait normal!" Lucie's 'roomate' Madeleine had joined her during the revolution, but the more the franzy took over, the more scared she became. People began beheading anyone who was against the Republic ideology, which included severing the heads of nicely dressed people.

Obviously, an argument ensued, and Madeleine decided to run away from Paris all together, to be safe from all the madness. Lucie wanted to stay, to continue the fight, but you knew she loved her more than anything. And here you were stuck between the two, trying desperately to smooth things over and reunite them. Which was insanely difficult.

"Alors quoi, tu vas la laisser partir? Ne plus jamais la revoir?" You tried to reason with her.

"Absolument !" She exclaimed and threw her hands in the air, acting like a spoiled brat. All of this was still too fresh. Lucie was immensly offended and hurt by her lover's words; there was no way to calm her down right this moment.

So you sighed and ruffled your hair. "D'accord, si c'est ce que tu veux..." Softly, you turned away from her. "Mais n'oublies pas qu'elle ne part que demain matin... agis avant que tu le regrettes." You threw her one last glance towards her, giving her time to pound.

As you made your way towards the square, you saw a couple young men tearing out pavers from the street and children gathering wood for their home. The city streets bustled with the fervour of revolution, while you kept seeking solace amidst the chaos that engulfed the lovely city. The distant echoes of revolutionary chants mingled with the clatter of horse-drawn carriages and the murmur of lively conversations, creating a symphony of sound that enveloped you in a cocoon of anonymity.

With each step you took, you felt the echo of Lucie's convictions pressing down on your stomach—the burden of long, agonising memories hanging over your heart, ready to come crashing down any second. The events of the day had left you shaken and unsettled, your mind swirling with thoughts of rebellion and resistance that once again didn't originate from you.

As you kept walking, you found yourself drawn towards the quieter corners of the city, away from the tumultuous crowds and swirling currents of political intrigue. Picking up a small yarrow, you softly palyed with it in between your fingers. As you wandered through narrow alleyways adorned with quaint cafes and bustling market stalls, your sensitive nose smelled of Parisian life and emotions.

With each passing moment, the rhythm of your footsteps became a mantra, a soothing cadence that calmed your racing thoughts and grounded her in the present moment. The cool night air brushed against your skin as you rolled up your sleeves, enjoying the relaxing wind on your scarred arm. The scent of freshly baked bread and aromatic spices was a comforting reminder of the simple pleasures that still existed amidst the turmoil of the revolution.

Slowly, you allowed yourself to be swept away by the beauty of your surroundings, finding solace in the timeless elegance of Parisian architecture and the soft glow of gas lamps that illuminated the streets like beacons of hope in the darkness. You brought the small white flower up to your nose and inhaled its scent deeply.

And as you flew up to a moonlight-bathed rooftop, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, allowing yourself to bask in the stillness of the sky. Reajusting your red béret on your head correctly, your eyes suddenly snapped down to two guards guiding an overly dressed and white figure away towards the Place de la Révolution, where the crowd was gathered around the guillotine.

And you knew who he was, for sure. "Oh God, Aziraphale..." You sighed and shook your head. The angel had quite particular taste in clothing, so it wasn't really a surprise when you spot him parade in Paris with such expensive clothes. Yeah, he always had a way to miss social clues. So, you flew back, saying farewell to your newly found peace, and followed them from a safe distance.

For your part, you dressed as the typical revolutionary Parisian, while slightly more colourful, so you had no trouble sneaking inside the prison, dodging the aristocrats being taken away by the very clear slashing sounds and screams coming from the lace. You kept searching among the moist cobblestones until you heard Aziraphale's gentle voice.

"Look, this is all a terrible mistake." He assured me while you slowly peeked your head from behind the cold stone wall. "I don't think you understand."

"I have good news for you. You are the 999th aristocrat to die at the guillotine by my hand." The man affirmed himself cheerfully, like a proud collector. "But the first English." You rolled your eyes at the statement, still waiting for the right moment to interfere. Why did Aziraphale not consider using a miracle? Why risk discorporation, especially such a painful one ?

"Now..." The man started before you heard him move around.

Before you understood what he was doing, Aziraphale got up, his chains clanking on the ground. "Please ! No."

You frowned, anger bubbling in your stomach and your teeth gritting. No way I'm letting him hurt Aziraphale... A rush of adrenaline washed over you, but just before you could intervene, a voice spoke from behind you.

"How about we help our little friend, mh ?"

A loud, high-pitched yelp escaped from your throat, and you turned violently around. Crowley was looking at you through his sunglasses and mocking a smurk on his lips. You let out the breath you kept in your lungs and growled.

"Don't do that." You scowled.

He shrugged and leaned over the prison cell. "It's just payback, sweetheart." He mumbled in a low voice and snapped his fingers, causing your brow to raise.

"Animals." The angel grumbled, deeply reproachful. You smiled and pushed the cell door open.

"Animals don't kill each other with clever machines, angel." Crowley said before sitting down nonchalantly.

"I'm afraid only humans do that." You added, standing with your hands behind your back.

"You..." Aziraphale sighed, and you smelled utter relief emitting from him. "Good Lord..." He smiled, rolling his eyes. You close up to him and gently remove the chains from his wrists. Your eyes trailed on his clothes, and you scoffed. Long white coat, richly decorated vest, obviously tailored pants, gee... The only thing you missed was the way your friend looked down at your hands, his breathing picking up slightly.

"What the deuce are you doing locked up in the Bastille?" Crowley inquired from his corner. "I thought you were opening a book shop."

"In London, nontheless." You finally got rid of the metal and let it fall loudly to the ground. Stepping away from him, the angel had space to take a deep breath and explain himself.

"Well, I was. I got peckish." He pouted, rubbing his bruising wrists.

Crowley smirked. "Peckish ?"

Aziraphale couldn't meet your gaze as you tasted funnel cake in the air. He rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, if you must know, it was the crêpes." You chuckled in response.

"Crêpes ? Don't they make 'em in England?"

"Not as good as the ones you find in Paris, that's for sure. Oh, and the brioche." He assured me, filled with conviction. You shook your head and kept laughing.

"So you just popped across the channel during a revolution because you wanted something to nibble?" The demon almost, ironically, lectured.

You shrugged. "Meh, I could understand. But not dressed like that, Azy." A smirk took place on your face.

He eyed you two up and down and then stated: "I have standards." In all your responses, you stuck out your tongue. "I did hear they were getting a bit carried away over here, but..."

"Yeah, this is not getting carried away. This is cutting off lots of people's heads very efficiently with a big head-cutting machine." The red head pointed out his slight resentment.

You nodded in agreement, but tried to bring up the positive. "At least, they are quite creative." But all you earned in return were jaded looks from your two clients. You raised up your hands to plead your innocence. "But, why didn't you miracle your way out?"

An effective way to change the subject. Aziraphale looked down once again. "Oh, I was reprimanded last month." You glanced towards Crowley, and you shared a knowing look. "They said I'd performed too many frivolous miracles. I got a strongly worded note from Gabriel."

Your lips twitched in a contrite pout. Only imagining what Chamuel would do if you ever got reported didn't settle quite with you, and the last thing you wanted was to bring to yourself. In a way, you were envious of how Aziraphale had even the chance to make a mistake.

Crowley stood up and strolled towards you. "Well, you're lucky I was in the area."

"We." You wasted no time correcting him.

Aziraphale scoffed. "I suppose I am." A soft smile appeared on his face, and the faintest blush appeared as he gawked at the two of you. "Why are you here?" He frowned.

"My lot sent me a commendation for outstanding job performance." The demon answered first, waving off his own statement.

Aziraphale gasped and got agitated again. "So all this is your demonic work?" He gestured towards the raging crowd.

"No. The humans thought it up themselves. Nothing to do with me." Now it was Crowley's turn to clear his name. So, there is a chance for you to restore your image.

"Heh, I told you, creative." You chirped proudly. But the same silence welcomed your words. You sighed, and your shoulders fell. "Fine..."

"Well..." Azirphale talked up again after a few seconds of judging silence. "I suppose I should say thank you for the, uh, rescue." He swung his arms from either side of his body softly.

"Don't say that." Crowley suddenly surged forward and snarled, startling you slightly. "If my people hear I join forces with an angel to save another, I'll be the one in trouble."

You sighed and rolled your eyes, already starting to walk away. Over the centuries, you learned to leave these two whenever they started to have a moment. "And my lot, do not send rude notes." Crowley's voice was fading and was replaced by your own footsteps.

"Well, anyway, I'm very grateful. What about if I buy you lunch?" Aziraphale offered. You stopped in the middle of the hallway and, at a turn, smiled, melancolic, before foresaking their conversation. Even though it didn't stop there.

"What do you think, Y/N?" The red head stopped mid-sentence as he noticed you were gone. He sighed and rolled his eyes. "What do they always do?"

Once again, you didn't join them for lunch. Why would you? They were just clients. You repeated this to yourself all the time, hoping one day it would finally make its way to your brain. But this desire never went away, despite how many times you echoed your words over and over again.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over the slowing city, you stepped out of a restaurant, crêpe in hand. Obviously, to avoid any unwanted attention, you made sure to pass by Lucie and, thank you enough, Madeleine. Quietly munching on your treat, you observed their bodies finally coming together. The tension that had lingered between them for so long seemed to melt away in the fading light, replaced by a tentative sense of reconciliation. They were a few feet away from each other, but still Lucie reached out tentatively, her hand trembling slightly as she touched the blonde's cheek, her eyes filled with regret and longing.

"Je suis désolée, Madeleine." She whispered softly, her voice barely audible above the gentle rustle of leaves. "Je n'ai jamais voulu te faire de mal." Tears softly formed in her eyes. "Je t'aime plus de tout au monde." She confessed, her voice breaking under the emotion.

Madeleine's eyes glistened with unshed tears as she reached out to clasp her lover's hand in her own, the relieving scent of forgiveness filling the air. "Je t'aime aussi, Lucie." She replied, her voice trembling with emotion. "J'ai juste eu tellement peur... tout ce qui passe en ce moment..." Her breath quickened once again through her fear.

"Je sais, je sais, et je m'en excuses. Mais je te promets qu'il ne t'arrivera jamais rien, jamais." She assured, so determined with the firm intention to protect Madeleine until her last breath.

And in that moment, as they sat together beneath the canopy of clouds, you felt a pang of longing tug at your heartstrings, a silent reminder of the feelings you had buried deep within your soul. It wasn't the first time you felt envious, but you would never let those feelings settle in your heart. The choice you made so many centuries ago will never change. However, as you watched from the sidelines, you were unable to recognise the truth that lay dormant within your own soul.

Lucie and Madeleine embraced, their love rekindled amidst the fragrant blooms and gentle whispers of the night, as they finally found solace in each other's arms. "Ça ira mon amour..." Lucie hugged Madeleine tightly against her chest as she continued to sob her relief and fear. "Ça ira pour toujours."

Yeah, it will be okay. You bit off a bit of your crêpe, the mixture of the taste of love and your little snack warming up your belly in the best way. You got up and stretched out your arm, bow in hand. And while you shot the two of them, you kept hoping that one day you would be at peace with your choice.

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1811, Windsor Caslte, London

The grand ballroom shimmered under the warm glow of candlelight, its walls adorned with opulent tapestries and gilded accents. As the musicians tuned their instruments, the air buzzed with anticipation. Ladies draped in silk and lace, gentlemen adorned in tailored coats, assembled in a choreographed display of social refinement. As the orchestra struck the first notes, couples gracefully glided across the polished floor, engaged in the intricate steps of the minuet. The scent of perfumed wigs mingled with the delicate fragrance of flowers scattered throughout the hall. Servants discreetly circulated, offering glasses of fine wine to the elegantly attired guests. You swiftly grasped a glass and nodded to the young woman, thankfully.

Amidst the rhythmic rustle of silk and the subdued murmur of conversations, the atmosphere exuded a sense of sophistication and regality. The ball at the court of George III unfolded as a spectacle of grace, where every movement and gesture spoke the language of grace and societal hierarchy. You strolled among the crowd to fade into the background while observing two enemies dancing together. The line between love and hate was so thin. You couldn't help but feel drawn to them, despising the risk of facing a hate demon. She was sent to kill him, a duke, but they've been dancing for hours now. The tension was there—the ballroom, the dancing—if you wanted to, you could just send a wave of temerity, and the deal would be sealed!

I continued to stroll in a circle around the couple, listening to the music softly. You enjoyed the sweet melodies and the frail details of each note; it made your heart react differently to every song. You hummed the languishing melody as you closed up to the buffet, where you were met with a familiar presence. Your head softly snapped to study the table covered with baked goods, and you smiled brightly as you recognised the person. Rushing to his side, you wasted no time greeting him.

"Aziraphale !" You chirped as you stood a few feet away from him. The white-haired angel was startled, as he didn't expect you here, even less to catch him with his mouth full. He let out a muffled exclamation before swallowing with difficulty.

He coughed a bit before greeting you back. "Y/N, hello!" Aziraphale smiled and closed up to you ever so slightly. "Golly, I haven't seen you since the bastille." His whole presence was so warm, and you couldn't help but bask in it.

You nodded, still smiling like an idiot, as you looked at him up and down. "I'm relieved to see you understood how to dress according to the situation." You teased him playfully and nudged him gently. Worry had eaten you up for a long time since the last time you saw the trusting angel almost getting disintegrated, so it was refreshing to see him well and still so fluffy-looking.

"O-Oh.." He smiled, embarrassed, while rubbing where you had touched his arm. He laughed softly. "Yes, I learned my lesson well enough."

You grinned gently before grabbing a small snack from the display of food. "So, what have you been doing here?" You munched softly on the little dish before looking back up at him.

"Oh, well, I've been sent here to perform some miracles, as always." Aziraphale explained. "But I must admit that I stayed for the music and the food." He hummed as he picked out something too. "Ah !"

You laughed softly at him and took in the ballroom once more. "I see. It's nice to see another angel enjoying music too."

His eyes seemed to sparkle when he nodded. "Indeed, it is." He smiled, his squishy cheekbones raising up. Despite yourself, you couldn't help but blush at his attention, though you would not admit it. To shake those ideas out of your head and tilt your head towards the intricate dancing. "Even danced before?" You wondered, taking the last sip of your wine.

"Oh, heavens no..." Aziraphale dismissed you, while you still caught his yearning gaze directed to the dance floor. "Angels don't dance."

You raised your brows, your lips pouting in an agreeable manner. "True, but we are one of a kind." The smirk on your face was nothing but devilish.

He exhaled deeply and shook his head. "You spend too much time with Crowley." The last dance came to an end, and the room roared with delicate applause. Aziraphale kept fidgeting with his fingers, longing to join in on the next dance.

"By the way, I know the steps of the minuet." You trailed off casually. "I could guide you." A small grin creeped into the corner of your mouth.

His chest swelled quickly at your words. "You do?"

twirledYou didn't ans;er him, instead, you giggled and led him to the dance floor. In the dimly lit ballroom, the strains of a delicate melody of the song 'St James' House' twirling in the air. With a gentle yet firm touch, you guided him through the intricate steps of the dance, your movements fluid and effortless. As you two glided across the polished floor, your poised demeanour contrasted with the angel's tentative strides, yet he followed your lead with a mixture of awe and determination. His steps faltered occasionally, but your encouraging smile and subtle corrections kept him in rhythm. With each turn and twirl, you conveyed a seemingly lifetime of experience, while Aziraphake, with his earnest enthusiasm, added a sense of freshness and spontaneity to your performance.

He had the happiest grin on his face while gracefully gravitating around one another. "You're doing great."

His cheeks were coloured a soft pink. "It's so much better than I could imagine."

"You shouldn't be afraid to do what your heart wants because you dread what others might think." You chuckled and squeezed his hand.

His brown eyes met yours, and you smelled cypress and pitaya. The words escaped your mouth before you could think; they shocked both of you but truly conflicted him. And you wanted to slap yourself with your own hyprocrisy. However, Aziraphale didn't give your dark thoughts enough time to form.

"Sometimes I wish..." He whispered, looking down at his feet. You gave him time to form his words correctly, gently leading the dance. "I wish I wasn't attached to Heaven." He was truthfully letting his vulnerability out, trusting you with ideas that could get him erased. "Not that I want to be a demon; far from that! But... at least not having so many restrictions and rules."

"I understand how you feel; it's the way Heaven does things. I find it odd and... cruel." Under the facade of elegance and refinement, a sense of unease hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over the grandeur of the evening. You two kept twirling and spinning, your steps now synchronised in perfect harmony. With each turn and dip, no one could suspect how you spoke in hushed tones of the injustices and inequalities that plagued the very system they were sworn to uphold.

"It's unfathomable." Aziraphale murmured, his voice tinged with frustration, as he guided Amelia through a graceful turn. "How can we claim to be the arbiters of justice when we let incommensurable horrors happen on Earth ?"

Your brow furrowed in agreement as she met Aziraphale's gaze, a silent acknowledgment of the harsh realities they both faced. "Indeed," she replied, her voice tinged with sadness. "I also had been exposed to a certain... hypocrisy." You kept escaping his gaze. "But at least, I think we can find beauty in the fact that despite all the hate in the world..."

You trailed off your last words, preferring to watch over the angel's shoulder and see your two clients still dancing with ardor. Their movements were a silent protest against the injustices that permeated their world, a defiant assertion of their shared belief in a better, more equitable future. A hope that encouraged them to share a kiss instead of guiding each other to their deaths. You smiled softly and led Aziraphale towards the outlet of the dance floor, as you had an arrow to shoot. "Most humans choose love."

As you finished your sentence, you reached the rest of the ballroom. Aziraphale's mouth was slightly open, as if totally mismerized by words. On instinct, you chuckled and kissed his cheek. "Sorry, Az, I have to go, but it was so good to see you again!" You chirped and fantastically ignored the angel's blush. "Bye, bye! Smooches !"

And you left, bouncing up and down and disappearing in the crowd. But you couldn't resist a last little peek. As you did, you catched Aziraphale, pressing his hand to his cheek with eyes wide open. You giggled. Sometimes you forget how angels aren't used to being physical; you have to cut him some slack.

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1862, St. James Park, London

In the tranquil setting of the park, you stood next to the serene pond where ducks paddled lazily through the shimmering waters. With each gentle toss of seeds, you watched as the ducks eagerly darted forward, their feathers ruffling with excitement as they pecked at the scattered treats. You were waiting near the Aziraphale and Crowley, discretely, of course, and waiting to see the result of your new attempt. You had tried a new technique and sincerly hoped it worked this time.

Lost in the soothing rhythm of your task, Sarah hardly noticed the passage of time as she waited for her friend, Alex, to arrive. But as the minutes stretched into hours, a frown creased her brow, and a sense of unease began to gnaw at her. Finally, you spotted Crowley alone, striding towards you, his brow furrowed and his expression clouded with frustration. Your heart sank as you recognised the telltale signs of a heated altercation, and you braced yourself for the storm that was about to come.

As he approached, he stomped his foot heavily on the ground beside you, his movements stiff and tense. Sensing the tension radiating from her friend, she hesitated for a moment before tentatively reaching out to lay a hand on his arm, a silent gesture of comfort and support.

He groaned loudly and kept fidgeting and squirming around; it was obvious he didn't handle frustration really well. "I can't believe him!"

You chuckled and turned back to the pound. "It's good to see you too, Crowley." You smirked.

"Yeah, yeah..." He dismissed me but didn't ask anything. Without another word, he reached into his pocket and withdrew a crumpled paper bag, tossing a handful of breadcrumbs into the pond with more force than necessary, causing the ducks to scatter.

"Don't feed them bread!" You slapped his hand to stop him, causing all the crumbs to fall to the ground.

He frowened and shook his hand to nub the pain. "Why ?"

"It's bad for them! There." You stood up and gave him your small bag. "Give them some cracked corn, or even peas is fine!"

Crowley nodded absently and started throwing the seeds inside the lake in a more calm manner now.

“So, what did Aziraphale do to piss you off this time?” You grinned softly. 

He didn't smirk like he used to. Nor even scoff. You turned to him and realised he was playing with the small, empty bag. You frowned slightly and inhaled deeply. Rusty metal and tuna filled up your nose, making you fully turn. Why was he feeling guilty?

“Was it something you did?” You guessed in a soft voice, trying to show him you wouldn't judge him if he made a mistake.

He groaned and took off his glasses to rub his face. His bright yellow eyes met yours, and you saw doubt. What wasn't he ready to tell you? After everything you had discussed.

“If it’s something you said, I'm sure it can be dealt with.” You smiled reassuringly.

He shook his head and faced you slowly. “It's something I asked.” His answer was evasive, but at least he was giving you hints.

You nodded absently, though you didn't know what Crowley could have possibly asked that Aziraphale wouldn't allow. “Did you ask to buy a book?” 

He scoffed out a laugh. “I wouldn't dare.” 

“Then what?” You pressed in a near whine. Crowley lost his smile and looked back ahead. 

His chest rose in a deep inhale, and he reached in his pocket for a piece of oddly wet paper. With a scrunched nose, you took the slimy paper and opened it. And what you read made you feel what other cupids thought you always did. Dead serious.

“What…w-what..” You coughed and blinked repeatedly. “Why would you need that?” 

He was fixed on your face, examining your reaction. “For insurance. In case the deal goes wrong." 

“It's too dangerous.” You took a step back. Anger started to bubble in your stomach. Why ? You couldn't exactly pinpoint it. Maybe it was against Crowley for ever considering such an idea. Or against yourself for participating in a deal that you knew could bring mountains of troubles. You squished the paper in your hand and miracled it away. The red-haired man sighed next to you.

"Fine, take his side; I don't. As I said to him, I got other people to 'fraternize with, some more open-minded people." He pestered you, but you didn't miss the smell of hurt. You huffed anyway and frowned.

"Yeah, right, go on then. Go tell your demon friends how eager you are to get your hands on this; I'm sure they'll be thrilled!" You snarled and threw the last bit of seed into the water, miraculously not hitting any ducks. Not wanting to stay any longer, you left, purposely stepping on the ground harder than necessary.

In an effort to clear your mind, you strolled through the park while the regular questions came running back to you. Why, when you shoot an arrow at them, it doesn't complete their bound but instead leads them apart even more? What were you doing wrong? It often confused you and kept gnawing at your brain, so very often. You entered a part of the park filled with roses of all sorts, similar to the different types of affection and love. Because flowers tend to represent the variety of loves that exist in the world. White roses for young love, pink roses for gentle love... And in the case of this one, you weren't sure.

While you observed this new rose, you failed to notice the angel's presence right at the angle. He was smelling the same flowers as you, Jack Roses, as they were called, to calm his nerves. As he gazed back up, he spotted you. A smile adorned his face, and he gently made his way to you. "Y/N ?" He gently called out. You looked up, too, and smiled. Yeah, you both knew you had the same conversation.

In a comfortable silence, you went to sit together on the worn park bench, the evening sun casting a warm glow over the tranquil scene. You noticed the furrowed brow and tense posture of your friend. He kept twirling the rose in between his fingers. Quietly, you grabbed it from his hand and attached it to his jacket as an ornament.

With this gentle touch, you offered a wordless gesture of support and solidarity. Aziraphale's gaze flickered towards yours, uncertainty etched in the lines of his face, but as he met your reassuring gaze, a flicker of relief crossed his features. In that moment, you felt the tension in his body begin to melt away, replaced by a sense of reassurance and, you’d call it, camaraderie. After a few minutes, you grinned slightly and joked. “Fraternising ?” 

He scoffed and closed his eyes. “You know what I meant.” 

The problem ism that you didn't. Through theMilanals,s you never understood the nature of their bon,orr your relationship with them. Are they friends,camarades, or, lovers ? It was so mess and confusing. Maybe it was because of your heart, but you were not capable of identifying the truth of it all. And solely about them,m which only made it worse ! But now, you couldn't leave Aziraphale alone, could you? It was your fault if they split up, the least you could do was, well, do the right thing. And you always, always do what you think is best.

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1941, London

In the heart of wartime London, amidst the chaos and clamor of air raid sirens and echoing footsteps, you raced through the bustling streets, your heart pounding with urgency. The cobblestones echoed the rhythm of your hurried steps as you darted past dimly lit alleyways and bustling market stalls,your breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

In the heart of wartime London, amidst the chaos and clamour of air raid sirens and echoing footsteps, you raced through the bustling streets, your heart pounding with urgency. The cobblestones echoed the rhythm of your hurried steps as you darted past dimly lit alleyways and bustling market stalls,your breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

You were frantancly looking for Aziraphale. The two of you had been hanging around each other, and you started to notice when he first had contact with the Nazis. And despite your anger, you knew he was putting himself in danger, and you couldn't help but come to his aid. The only problem was that you had no idea where he might be. With every passing moment, the weight of uncertainty pressed down on your shoulders, driving you forward with a relentless determination. Your senses were heightened, attuned to the cacophony of voices and the distant rumble of explosions that reverberated through the city like a symphony of chaos.

Through the haze of smoke and dust, your eyes kept flashing pink, searching frantically for his familiar aura, your aching heart hammering in your chest as she wove through the throngs of people who filled the streets like ants scurrying for cover. Each passing moment felt like an eternity as you raced against time, your mind consumed by the singular purpose of finding Aziraphale and avoiding a catastrophe.

As you turned a corner into a narrow alleyway, your breath caught in your throat as your eyes finally spotted Aziraphale's bound, guiding you to a nearby church. With a surge of hope, you quickened your pace, your heart pounding in anticipation as you drew closer to the familiar energy. In your haze of thoughts, you didn't realise you were standing right in front of the huge wooden door and had kicked it open. The noise the door made mimicked thunder, startling the three men, though your blazing gaze was focused on only one. Azirphale had his eyes wide in complete confusion and was surprised. But only after a few seconds of taking your messy appearance in did worry morph into his face.

"Y/N ? Oh, my dear Lord, what happened to you ?" Aziraphale rushed to you, totally abandoning the two men.

"War happened to me." You growled before shaking your head and strolling towards him. "I can't believe you're dealing with Nazis !"

Meanwhile, a thinner man packed up the books Aziraphale had brought. "I will pass it on to the Fuehrer."

"To Hitler ? The wost human ever ?!" You sighed then, completely dejected. Like every war, it took a real toll on you. Love was hard to come by, and you were famished, going as far as bounding rats together. Aziraphale stumbled on his words, wanting to explain everything to you, but stopped himself.

"These volumes of prophecy will be in Berlin by the end of the week. The Fuehrer will be most grateful." You glared the Nazi's way, your face utterly sullen.

"You have been exceedingly helpful, Mr. Fell." You sent a deadly look in the white head direction while he kept fixing ahead of him, lips drawn in a thin line. That's when the noise of a gun resonated inside the empty space of the church. "Such a pity you and your friend must be eliminated, but take heart, just another in the blitz."

A loud, exasperated sigh left your lips, and you commented. "Again ?"

He pouted apologies in response and then turned back to his little friends. "That's not very sporting." You frowned, intrigued, and crossed your arms in front of your chest.

The chubbier one copied your frown and observed. "You do not appear worried, my friend."

The sound of heels was accompanied by another cocking gun. You turn around, your eyes widening along with the two other men, while Aziraphale fakes nonchalance. Still, he reeked of arrogance.

A woman dressed in black was aiming her weapon at the Nazis. "He's not worried." She revealed. She didn't smell friendly, though, but surprising enough, some humans were more talented at hiding their real intentions than others. That's why you couldn't figure her out. Wary, you softly stepped back, in between her and your friend.

"Who is she?" The man asked, and Aziraphale wasted no time in answering. "She, my double-dealing Nazi acquaintance, is the reason why none of those books are going back to Berlin." He turned to you, bowing his head with pride at his own schemes. "And why your nasty little spy ring will be spending the rest of the war behind bars." The two men nicely raised their hands and dropped their guns.

Suddenly, malice hit your nostrils—a mix of sweetpea and the steathy scent of gunpowder—revealing itself when you least expected it. Oh, come on...

"Let me introduce you to Captain Rose Montgomery of British Military Intelligence." The way he talked truly felt like he was reliving a scene from a mystery book, and you could easily get distracted by how much you enjoyed his almost childish joy if you weren't busy eyeing the woman's swinging aim.

She stepped closer, but you stood your ground next to the angel. "Thank you for the introduction." Her smile was too fake, and her gun kept pointing in the wrong direction, and you didn't hesitate to constantly step in the way.

"Our side knows all about the two of you. She recruited me to work for you." He insisted on the word 'work' while glancing furtively at you. But you knew something was off. "Aziraphale..." You started with a meek voice.

"And now she is going to tell you this building is surrounded by..." Aziraphale continued to ramble but interrupted him firmly.

"Aziraphale." You grabbed onto his arm to ground him as a twisted smile diformed the man's features.

"I'm afraid she works for us, Mr. Fell." You held back and growled as the man spoke up.

"Allow me to introduce Fraulein Greta Kleinschmidt." The smaller man spoke slowly as the woman turned towards both of you, clearly aiming at you now. Aziraphale gasped, but you kept keeping him away from the weapon.

Greta kept stepping away and started to talk tenderly with one of the men. Gee, you couldn't believe that the most love you had felt in weeks was coming from the most terrible people God had ever created. You glanced back at Aziraphale, who was completely lost, and it pained your heart to see him like this. "Now, where were we? Oh yes." The gun was so close, you swore you could just knock it out of her hand. "Killing you."

"You can't kill us. There'll be paperwork." Azirphale almost pouted behind you, but you sensed him moving closer. But before anything could happen, the heavy wooden door slammed open once again.

And whoever had just entered seemed to have quite trouble breathing. Or maybe they were hurt. In the end, it was a mix of both. "Sorry, consecrated ground." It was Crowley, daring to walk into a church. His feet seemed to burn as he tried to spend minimal time on the ground. And you thought about how grateful you were that you had the ability to fly. "Oh ! It's like being at the beach in bare feet." His voice was so high-pitched that it almost made you laugh.

"Crowley ?" You mused, at a loss for words. It's been years since you've seen him—well,  since your argument in St. James—and it would be a lie if you said you hadn't missed him.

"Yep, the one and only, always there to save your butts." He teased while turning around in circles to avoid standing in one place.

"I should have known, of course. These people are working for you." Aziraphale accused you and finally stepped in front of you.

The demon seeked suppot in one of the dark benches as the floor kept burning him. "Nah, they're a bunch of half-witted Nazi spies running London, blackmailing and mudering people. I just didn't want to see you  embarrassed." He tried to nag but couldn't handle the pain. Instead, he waddled around like a duck.

"Indeed, I see you are covering for us both." Azirphaled mocked you in a hushed voice and smiled when he noticed the growing grin on your face, even if you tried to mask it.

"Mr. Anthony J. Crowley. Your fame precedes you." The man started, catching your attention, and you noticed the woman almost drooling over your friend. Well, it was a bit exaggerated, but it seemed like the best vocabulary to use in that moment.

"Anthony ?" Aziraphale wondered, unsure if he heard him right. "You don't like it ?" Crowley retored, and you smelled legit curiousity; the thought of him changing his name to suit the angel caused a cheeky smile.

"No, no, I didn't say that. I'll get used to it." The white head reassured me, though he kept frowning. And it raised a couple questions for you too.

"Wait, so what's your name ? Or do they call you Aziraphale Fell ?" You leaned in, tilting your head to the side. "Kinda redundant, don't you think ?" You jested with a smirk.

"Really not the place, dear." The angel lectured gently but didn't lean away.

"The famous Mr. Crowley ?" She kept eyeing him like a piece of meat, and you really didn't like that, and you unconsciously moved in front of the demon, but it was kind of useless considering he had to keep moving. "That's such a pity that the three of you must die."

Crowley tipped his hat, and you pouted. "What does the 'J' stand for ?" You continued, despite what Aziraphale had just said.

"It's just a 'J', really... Look at that !" You frowned, followed, and looked over where he was gawking. Holy water. You scowled. "A whole fontful of holy water doesn't even have guards !" The red head explained a mixture of pain and excitement.

"Enough babbling. Kill them both." The Nazi finally ordered, already grabbing the bag full of books.

However, Crowley had other plans. "In about a minute, a German bomber will release a bomb that will land right here." He gestured while dancing around. "If you all run away very, very fast, you might not die. You won't enjoy dying; you definitely won't enjoy what comes after." You nodded in agreement, almost mocking.

"You expect us to believe that ? The bombs tonight will fall on the East End." The chubbier man smirked.

"Yes. It would take a last-minute demonic intervention to throw them off course." Crowley confirmed, and you decided to play along.

"I think you're all wasting quite valuable time, dear fellows." You smirked; you couldn't admit it, but you truly hoped they wouldn't run away and would rot in Hell.

"And if, in 30 seconds, a bomb does land here, it would take a real miracle for my friends and I to survive it." He tilted his head to the side, towards Aziraphale.

"A real miracle?" The angel stammered in response, carefully moving closer to the two of you.

"Kill them. They are very irritating."

Crowley raised his hands and pointed at the ceiling, expectingly. Suddenly, a distant rumble echoed through the darkness, growing louder and more ominous with each passing second. The ground beneath your feet trembled as if in anticipation, sending shivers down her spine. The air crackled with electricity as the sound of rushing wind filled your ears, drowning out all other noise save for the rapid beat of your heart.

With a deafening roar, the bomb plummeted towards the earth like a deadly harbinger of destruction, its descent marked by a piercing shriek that cut through the silence like a knife. As the bomb crashed into the church with a thunderous explosion, the earth shook with the force of its impact, sending shockwaves rippling through the air like ripples on a pond. Glass shattered and metal groaned in protest as the building buckled under the sheer force of the blast, the sound of crumbling masonry echoing through the night like the tolling of a funeral bell.

At an agonisingly slow pace, things settled. Your eyes had started to water, and you had instinctively closed your eyes to shelter yourself away from the bright light, the noise, and the chaos. The fear inside you was growing exponentially. It all happened in seconds. Your heartbeat was racing wildly, and your breath was shallow and erratic when you felt a person's touch. You were confused, and the person kept calling your name, but you couldn't find the strength or courage to look up and see who it was.

"Y/N..." The voice sighed, saddened by your state. Ever so gently, you found yourself enveloped in a warm embrace. You inhaled deeply the scent of the coat in which your face was buried and recognised Aziraphale. His arms encircled you with a sense of unwavering comfort and solace. Your body trembled with the aftershocks of shock, and your mind was reeling from the turmoil of emotions that threatened to overwhelm her.

As the angel held you close, you could feel the steady rhythm of his pristine heartbeat echoing against your ear, which was so reassuring. Crowley came closer too, but kept a distance and slowly stroked your. You felt the tension in your muscles begin to ease, the tight knot of fear slowly unravelling under the soothing touch of your friends embrace. In this cocoon, you allowed yourself to take a deep breath and process everything. You weren't used to so much action, preferring to act from afar. With each passing moment, you felt a sense of tranquilly wash over you, like a gentle tide lulling her into a state of calm surrender.

Finally, you regain composure and separate yourself from Aziraphale, while Crowley backs away. "T-Thanks..." You sniffed. The angel simply smiled warmly and kept his hand on your right arm, as if to grant you at least a bit of contact.

He then turned to Crowley. "That was very kind of you." He smiled once more and nodded thankfully.

"Shut up..." He brushed off, putting back his sunglasses, despite the darkness of the night.

"It truly was." You thanked me too. And you saw Crowley lip twitch in an apologetic pout, but you weren't mad at him; you didn't even think you would react like that. "Hey, there'll be no paperwork !" You chuckled.

Aziraphale along with you too, until he realised something. "Oh, the books!" He quickly scanned over the debris but didn't see them. "Oh, I forgot all the books !" You tried to look for the bag too, and apparently so did Crowley. "Oh, they'll all be blown away."

The demon approached us once again, the bag full of books completely untouched. Your eyes widened, and you watched the interaction with a tender gaze.

"A little demonic miracle of my own." Crowley handed it back to Aziraphale, who simply watched, dumbfounded and so, so smitten. You grinned and blushed at the rush of love you felt deep in your heart. "Lift home ?" He offered as if nothing had happened and walked over a black Bentley.

After inhaling deeply and discretely fed on the love, you gasped at the sight of the machine. "You have a car ?!" You chirped and sprinted behind Crowley, while Aziraphale stayed behind. Though the night was far from over, it started incredibly well, 'cause tonight, you'll be able to feast on a whole lot of love!

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1967, Soho, London

In the smoky haze of the dimly lit bar, you sat perched on a bar stool, a tumbler of whisky cradled in her hand. The amber liquid glinted in the soft glow of the overhead lights, casting a warm, comforting glow over your features as you took a slow sip, savouring the burn that spread through your chest. You truly enjoyed this new pub, and particularly its name, 'The Dirty Donkey'. Yeah, it always makes your drunken laugh out loud every time you think about it.

For a fleeting moment, you felt a sense of contentment wash over her, the familiar rhythms of the bar providing a sanctuary from the chaos of the outside world. But as you glanced across the room, your gaze fell upon your dear client, Crowley, engaged in a conversation with two humans, causing you to cock a brow. They were moving to a private room, much to your surprise and honest annoyance. Thankfuly, not all your clients were desperatly trying to get themselves in trouble; expect two very specific men.

Groaning, you abandoned your glass on the counter and followed them. And yes, you had no shame in eavesdropping on people. Crowley hunched over the table, his voice low and calm as he exchanged words with the shady couple. Your brows furrowed with concern as you watched the exchange unfold, a sense of unease settling like a stone in the pit of your stomach.

"So, Spike, you're the muscles; you'll be hauling on the ropes." The demon explained it all too professionally.

"And she'll be going down on..." You didn't have time to hear the rest as you felt a presence nearing you. With a gasp, you swiftly put on the blindness, and you reprimand yourself for not thinking of it sooner. A young man walks past you and enters the room. In spite of your desire to follow him, you knew better and focused on spying.

"Who are you ?" A man spoke.

"I understand you need a locksmith." You grew even more confused. Why on Earth would Crowley need help picking up a lock?

You recognised Crowley right away. "I was expecting Mr. Narker."

"Well, Mr. Narker's passed on to his reward. I've taken over the business." The voice was the nearest; you figured it was the youngest. "He was my cellmate. He taught me everything he knew. "You rolled your eyes. Gosh, you hated when you were right.

"My name's Shadwell." You kept focusing; you needed to know what Crowley was planning.

"Please... sit down, Mr. Shadwell."

"Lance Corporal Shadwell. If you don't mind." Unbeknownst to the both of you, Crowley and you shared an unimpressed expression at the man's arrogance.

"So, what's so valuable that they're going to leave it in a church at night?" A more feminine voice inquired.  That was when the truth came crashing down on you. You closed your eyes and sighed. He was still after that god-forsaken holy water. You gritted your teeth in anger, but another emotion overtook your wrath. You truly feared for his safety, knowing that he was treading dangerously close to a path from which there might be no return.

With a sense of determination, you straightened up and marched your way out of the building. You had to talk with Aziraphale now. So, wasting no time, you strolled proudly to the angel's bookshop, which was only a few miles away, and even if it erased any trace of epicness, you rushed in.

Startled, Aziraphale's gaze shot up from his book, and he met you in a near panic. "Oh my Lord, Y/N, don't enter like that." He said it gently while putting down his book.

"Sorry, Az, but it's kind of urgent." You apologised while hurriedly floating his way. "Crowley is in trouble."

He met you half-way, sending you a wave of snowy nights. "What kind of trouble?"

"He's going to rob a church to get holy water!" You cried out, deeply worried, too.

"Oh my God, I cannot believe him!" He exclaimed angrily, still in his polite tone. You sighed and waited for a few minutes, as Aziraphale's footsteps marked the tempo of his passing. It gave you both time to consider the whole situation and what your options were. There was no way you would just stay still without doing anything. But how could you prevent him from putting himself in danger?

That's when you got an idea. It wasn't the best, and you knew you'd have to convince the angel and yourself. Swallowing thickly, you finally took a step towards him and called his name. "Aziraphale ?"

He stopped in his tracks and waited for you expectantly, thinking you had found the solution to all your problems. Your lips formed a thin line before you finally offered him your thoughts. "I know what we agreed on, but... maybe we could trust him."

"What ?" His face had lost all its colour, and he looked at you like you had lost your mind. Which was understandable.

You exhaled and put your hand on his shoulder. "Think about it. What's worse? Has he tried to get the holy water on his own, possibly getting caught or, even worse, splashing himself in the process?" You seeked his eyes to convey how much you believed in your idea.

Aziraphale almost pleaded with you with his eyes. You frowned apologies and smiled softly. You were asking for a lot; he was terrified for his life, and you had just suggested giving him a suicidal pill. However, the angel surprised you once again. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply before opening his eyes. "Okay."

A few moments later, you and Aziraphale teleported to Crowley's car. You held tightly to the bottle and hid it on the ground in between your legs. Just at the same time, the demon entered his car, sitting lazily. That's when he felt your presence and turned to you, astounded. "What are you doing here?"

"We needed a word with you." Aziraphale started calmly, with a high reserve.

"What ?" He faked ignorance.

Obviously, it didn't fool you, and you rolled your eyes. "Please, we both work in London; it's hard to miss things." Crowley glanced at you from the rear mirror but didn't say anything.

"And apparently you're setting up a... caper." The angel glanced towards you too, searching for backup. "To rob a church."

You nodded and leaned forward, between their seats. "Crowley, it's too dangerous." But your friend didn't let you influence him and kept looking away.

"Holy water won't just kill your body. It will destroy you completely." Aziraphale added, dread lacing his voice.

"You told me what you think 105 years ago." He snarled lowly, exasperation in the back of his throat.

"And nothing changed." You said it serverly, gripping on the leather seat, gaining Crowley's attention as he turned towards you.

"But... we can't have you risking your life." Though you knew you should have backed out the moment you were added to the equation of 'we', you couldn't just leave. "Not even for something dangerous..." Aziraphale sighed.

"So..." You reached down to the car floor, carefully pulled out the thermos, and slowly handed it to Crowley. His hands shook as he reached to grab it, though you still held onto it.

Aziraphale swallowed thickly and eyed the bottle like a hawk. "You can call off the robbery."

Your fingers met with the demon's as you let go of the bottle. "Watch the cap. Don't unscrew it unless it's your last resort." You warned in a hush voice, afraid the cap might just pop right off it.

"It's the real thing?" Despite his glasses, you can see how incredulous his face was. He held the holy water like a bomb, ready to explode.

"The holiest." Aziraphale was incredibly stiff, and he kept leaning away.

"After everything you said..." he whispered, unable to wrap his mind around the idea of the both of you giving in. "Should I say thank you?"

"Better not..." You smiled.

"Well, can I drop you anywhere?"

"No. Thank you.." Crowley pouted; he really wanted to do something for Aziraphale, but he kept being so stubborn. "Oh, don't look so disappointed. Perhaps one day we could... I don't know." He smiled thoughtfully. "Go for a picnic." He then glanced at you, truly hoping you would accept his next offer. "Dine at the Ritz." He shrugged. You looked down; maybe you were the stubborn one after all.

But Crowley insisted. "I'll give you a lift, anywhere you want to go."

"You go too fast for me, Crowley." Really ? Like, really? You sighed and roughly leaned back on the seat. Aziraphale didn't waste any more time and slipped out without saying another word.

But you could see past the facade of bravado the vulnerability that lurked beneath the surface of Crowley's neutral exterior. So, you reached out to him, making a silent plea for him to not give up. You knew that no matter how fiercely Aziraphale resisted, he would always be there by his side, despite how much he wanted to pull away.

For your part, you stayed, feeling a kind of pull urging you to do so. After spending some time in silence, Crowley spoke up. "Need a life, sweetheart?"

You chuckled and sat back up. "Please..." You observed the wheel for a few seconds before chirping, interrupting his movements. "Can I drive?" You used your big, charming smile.

Crowley glanced your way for a few minutes, contemplating the idea before shrugging. "Sure." He opened his door to switch places. You grinned mischievously and grabbed the stirring wheel tightly.

"I'll give it to you fast, boy." You said that and started the engine. Pray for Crowley's poor heart.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* 

2000, Aziraphale's bookshop, London

On your way to meeting Aziraphale and Crowley, you couldn't help but giggle like a little child. You skipped through London, avoiding flying and frightening the sweet baby creature snuggled against my chest. You didn't know such an adorable thing could ever exist, but humans were always full of wonderful surprises! You squeezed your way through the crowd on the busy side walk before finally catching a glimpse of the angel's bookshop.

"Almost there, baby!" You cooed with a big smile and felt her squirm against you. You hurried to cross the street and forcefully pushed the door open with your shoulder. The bell rang loudly, which brought your friends attention to you. Crowley was sitting on the couch, well, more like his body was thrown carelessly on it, whereas Aziraphale was nicely sitting on his big, comfy chair and holding a small device in his hand.

Crowley threw his head back to look at you. "Happy new milenial." He joked with scoff. You smiled brightly and floated towards them, not far away from the ground but enough to not walk down the stairs.

"Hello..." You sang and giggled again until I landed next to the couch. You squeezed the little bundle of joy into your arms. Aziraphale cocked a brow, amused.

"What do you have here, dear?" He smirked, curious. Crowley sat up and looked at you, intrigued as well.

"Oh... nothing..." You chuckled, giggling. Scanning the room for a place to sit, you notice a brand new big divan, which you had never noticed before. "Well, this is new."

Aziraphale got up and took the place next to you. "Indeed, it is." He laughed softly. "It's for you." You looked at him, showing him your disbelief.

"Aw, really?" You asked while approaching the grey van. It had a back, so you didn't have to just lie on it, and it looked really squishy too. You sat down on it and smiled brightly. "Oh, this is great! Thank you.."

The angel dismissed your gratitude with a small gesture. "No need to thank me, dear. "You'd simply like a place to sit on your own."

You smiled gently at him before Crowley spoke up. "What kind of animal is that?" He titled his head to the blanket in your arms as he gave off strong aromas of curiosity and... endermant?

You brushed it off and inhaled deeply. "Gentlemen..." You started trying to set the ambiance. Both of them leaned slightly. "Let me present to you... Eden!" You exclaimed wildly and took off the blanket, reaveling your new baby white dexter mini cow in all her cuteness. She mowed softly as you put her down. She was extremely tiny, with her white coat, black ears, and snoot.

"Oh..." Aziraphale cooed, and you could smell how smitten he was already with her. "She is precious." He affirmed.

Crowley gave off the same scent but still tried to keep up his mocking exterior. "Wow, that's where mini hambergers meat comes from." He teased, his uncovered eyes sparkling with mischief.

You gasped loudly, fakely offended, and went to cover her ears. "Shh, you fool ! She might hear you." Eden mooed and nudged your arm. "I know, baby, he's a meanie." You cooed and kissed her forehead.

"Damn right." He laughed and caressed the mini cow's fur.

"Right, you are absolutely dreadful." Aziraphale rolled his eyes, mocking the gentle behaviour of his friend. Crowley growled but didn't retort anything. "

"Really, you would do that ?" You smiled brightly, earning a chuckle from the angel.

"Of course, you spend so much time here; it would be cruel to leave that poor creature all alone." He tilted his head to the side, inviting you to follow him.

Aziraphale opened a door, right behind all the shelves, in the hidden parts of the bookshop. The room was dusty and crammed with books and antics, from the ground to the ceiling. And despite the library in itself, it was the largest room the bookshop had.

"We'll just put all that into other rooms and upstairs."

You turned to Azirphale, who was making grand movements to explain his whole plan. "It would be its personal stable. He smiled from ear to ear. It truly warmed your heart to see him so involved.

Crowley was leaning against the door frame, holding Eden to his chest. You spotted him and cooed mockingly. "Aren't you a sweetheart?"

He scoffed while petting Eden's head. "Nah, that's your job."

You pursed your lips into a bashful smile before an idea popped into my mind. "Oh, I never thought of what a cow might eat !" You exclaimed, outraged at your ignorance.

"Don't worry, dear, I'm sure I have a book about it somewhere." Aziraphale was reassured, already leaving the room to find it.

You sighed in relief and followed right behind him. It took some time, but you eventually found it and walked back towards the room, leafing through the book. The two of you came to a sudden stop. Everything that was previously in the room was lying on the ground. Aziraphale let out an offended gasp.

"Crowley ?" You called out, midway concerned and amused. "I'm not sure that's how you tidy a room."

The angel was the first to open the door abruptly and stop just as fast. You pressed yourself against him to see what happened to the room. Your eyes widened, your heart quickening, and your eyes flashed pink. "Wow..."

The room, if you still call it that, had enormously enlarged. So much that it actually had an horizon. In the seemingly soft glow of dawn, the meadow unfurled like a tapestry woven with a myriad of colors. Dew-kissed grasses shimmered with a silvery sheen as they swayed gently in the early morning breeze. A symphony of bird songs filled the air, weaving melodies that danced among the fragrant blooms.

Clusters of wildflowers adorned the landscape, painting the meadow a kaleidoscope of hues. Sun-kissed daisies nodded their heads in greeting, and their cheerful faces turned towards the rising sun. Delicate lavender blossoms released their sweet, intoxicating fragrance, mingling with the earthy scent of fresh grass and damp soil.

Water streams meandered lazily through the meadow, their crystal-clear waters glinting in the golden light. They carved sinuous paths among the greenery, creating small, tranquil pools where dragonflies darted and frogs sang their morning serenades. Butterflies flitted from flower to flower, their delicate wings shimmering like stained glass in the sunlight. Bees hummed busily, collecting nectar from the blooms and adding their gentle buzz to the symphony of nature's orchestra.

The ceiling—no, the sky—wasn't entirely blue, but it reminded you of a gentle summer morning. Just the softest warmth. We slowly walked into the landscape, afraid to disrupt it. The thick grass felt mellow under your feet, and you couldn't resist kicking off your shoes to feel it yourself. Aziraphale chuckles, joining the sweet sounds of birds and the running water.

"This is amazing !" You laughed in disbelief and utter joy, twirling around, taking in everything this beautiful place had to offer. The ground was now the last thing on your mind, and you took off in the air, floating around like a cherub.

"I can't believe Crowley did all this in such a short amount of time." Aziraphale backed up, caressing the petals of a Jack Rose.

You chuckled and floated in a circle around him. "Where do you think he is ?" Your eyes scanned the area, and you spotted him beyond a field of yarrows, answering your own question. "There ! C'mon !" You landed abruptly next to Aziraphale and took his arm, hurrying him to climb up the small hill.

Crowley was sitting underneath a tree that bore the colours of a pink cherry tree, but the lazy branches resembled those of a weeping willow. Eden quiet moos caused you to smile and rush the final feet, seperating you from the two of them. The demon smiled almost smugly at your arrival, and you responded with a bright grin.

"This incredible..." You panted a bit and roughly let yourself fall on your back, on the grass. Aziraphale chuckled and miracled a blanket under the four of you. A comfortable hum came out instinctively, and you completely laid on the ground. With a happy coo, Eden waddled her way and rested her head on your stomach. Aziraphale sat down as well, crossed his legs, and congratulated Crowley on his work.

"Now, this is a wonderful place to have a picnic." Aziraphale sighed and rested back on his arms. You chuckled and laid down on the blanket. Eden's weight left a comfortable pressure on your chest. Staring at the sunny sky through the pink brenches of the tree, the scent of heliotrope embraces your entire being.

You never knew what heliotrope was meant to represent, despite how many times you asked Mihael about its meaning. All she ever gave you as an answer was a cheeky smile and a shrug. So, you didn't ask further. And right now, all you wanted to do was bask in the scent and never leave this meadow.

Or its inhabitants. For anything in the world.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* 

There... Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to sleep U,w,U

Hope you liked it, I put extra details for you to enjoy ! Now let's hope Y/N | Balael will be and about in the next chapter, 'cause they're running out of time ;)

And if they're any errors like a lot 'I's instead of 'You's please let me know ^^

Bye bye !

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Masterlist : Here

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[atierrorian]

for requests- could you do maybe ace realising he has feelings for the (gn) MC during book 4 please?

Your request is my command!

"𝒲𝑒𝓁𝓁 𝒾𝒻 𝒾𝓉'𝓈 𝓎𝑜𝓊.."

Context: Ace has finally realized he has feelings for you

[cw]: Fluff, ish crack, [Name] is the mc. Ooc, A little different plot for the sake of the plot.

Ace has this odd and weird feeling that he feels. He doesn't know why but, he kinda likes the feeling. But why does he feel like this whenever his with you?

Ace sighs as he wonders why he feels like this whenever his with you?

He sighs as he lays in his bed and while his mind wanders to you.

Are you okay? Do you need any help? Are you hurt? Are you suffering with that cat of yours? Are you dead?

Ace realized what he just thought at the last thought and shook his head, what the fuck was he even thinking? Why did he even think you would be dead?

It leaves dread to Ace whenever he thinks that you might be possibly dead. But you can't be dead right? I mean your strong, you managed to survive and help defeat 3 overblots.

But you must be lonely. I mean he gets that you have Grim and the ghost in Ramschackle but can't he be worried?

As he lays there, he suddenly gets a call.

From you.

He quickly got up and picked up the phone.

"Um Ace so uhh can you and Deuce come here we're currently having a HUGE emeregenc- ah! Watch it! So uh we're currently having an emergency and we need more help and because Crowley sucks can you guys come here? QUICK?!" You said before the phone hung up.

What. The. Fuck?

He stared at his phone in disbelief. What trouble did you got yourself into this time? He quickly called Deuce and told him about the situation.

Deuce was also quite disbelief but told him that he'll get ready.

Ace and Deuce had to take the train all the way back since they weren't able to teleport. Both of them ran all the way to where the incident was and where the Prefect was.

Ace ran faster like he never ran before and went ahead of Deuce.

"PREFECT!" Both Ace and Deuce yelled while you turned around to see who was yelling.

"Wait Ace and Deuce?" Questioned the Prefect as they both panted from exhaustion.

"We are so sorry were late!" Deuce apologized while everyone, except Jamil since he was unconscious from his overblot a moment ago.

"You guys are very very late! What took you guys so long anyways?" You asked both of them.

"Well sorry alright? We weren't able to teleport because of some issue or error so we had to take a train and ran all the way here." Ace said. Ace was just relieved that the fact that you're alright and fine.

Ace noticed that his heart was pounding loudly again and felt his face heating up.

"Um Ace, are you alright? Your face is burning up.." You said before placing your hand on Ace's forehead.

"W- what? Yeah I'm fine Prefect, you don't have anything to worry about! It's just the heat.." He said and you nodded since he did ran all the way here in the desert.

"Anyways let's go and wait for Jamil to wake up alright?" You said before taking both Ace and Deuce's hand to where the others were.

As Ace stared at you while you were dragging him, he finally realized what he felt for you.

Love.

He has feelings for you.

Ace face slightly heats up again before looking at the ground.

Well if it's you, he doesn't mind it..

I really had no idea what to do but I tried my best! I hope you enjoyed this!

It's pretty obvious it was rush.

[darkhighness]

Good Omentober Day 21 - Hellfire

Prompt by @disaster-dog

Hellfire songfic- Aziraphale wants to lay his heart on the line and be everything to Crowley but nagging voices from Heaven would never leave him alone.

Aziraphale had quite peacefully been reading in the bookshop, enjoying the smell from the sandalwood candle he had burning on the table. There was a cold cup of cocoa sitting beside it and the book in his hands was over halfway read. As he tuned into the ticking of the grandfather clock he thought about long it had been since he had seen Crowley. He assumed their arrangement was still in tact but he hadn’t heard anything. Usually the demon would say if he was going to be away for a while and the lack of communication was beginning to grate on him.

He placed his book down and blew out the candle before moving over to the phone and dialling the familiar number.

This is Anthony Crowley. You know what to do, do it with style.

Aziraphale sighed before leaving a message, “Crowley, It’s just Aziraphale, checking in. I miss you, my dear. We haven’t crossed paths in a while. I do hope you’re okay.”

There was a letter on Aziraphale’s desk, one that had been there for years. He’d received a warning about his relationship with the demon and there was some lingering feeling of being watched since the letter arrived.

Like fire

In the absence of the demon, his heart felt empty and cold like there was something missing. He felt so full when Crowley was around and it was only when he was gone that Aziraphale realised how badly it hurt.

He tried to clean the bookshop to distract him, keeping an ear out for the phone. Part of him knew he wouldn’t get a response but he had held onto faith up until this point. There was a single photo of Crowley hanging in the bookshop from back in the 80s. Aziraphale let his finger over his cheek, longing to make contact with Crowley once again.

As soon as he realised what he was thinking he recoiled and panic flashed across his face. If his superiors were mad about him possibly working with a demon, loving one of them would be an unforgivable sin.

Lust was the scariest of the sins. Aziraphale could watch his every word and every action but his heart wanted to stray, to feel the gentle embrace of someone who cared about him. He wanted to love recklessly and fall hard without fearing what the almighty might say.

He wanted to be loved.

Hellfire

He sat down in his armchair, his breath caught in his throat as he thought about Crowley. He had told the demon he was going to fast but he would’ve given anything to be sitting with him now in this very bookshop. He didn’t want the world to be ending for them to have a reason to be together. He didn’t want to fight for something that felt so right.

If he closed his eyes and imagined hard enough he could almost feel the gentle brush of the demon’s long fingers against the tender skin on his neck. He could almost smell Crowley’s cologne and feel the rough of his fabric against his arm.

He didn’t want to imagine anymore. He wanted Crowley. The longer he went without hearing from him, the worse he felt. There was a pounding in his head and he swear he could feel the rushing of blood that didn’t exist in his ears. He couldn’t see straight.

He fished a small golden snuff box out of one of the pockets of his oversized coat and ran his fingers across the raised design on the top of it. It was a gift from the demon of course and while Aziraphale never used it for it’s intended purpose, it did serve as a good grounding tool when he got like this. The small raised bumps ran along underneath his thumb and he slowly felt himself breathe again.

This fire in my skin

He felt a tingle that almost reached down to his bones as he heard the small bell above the door chime. In the doorway was a tall, excessively tired looking demon who seemed relieved to see the angel sitting there as he always did.

“Aziraphale,” Crowley breathed.

“Oh Crowley!” Aziraphale sobbed before jumping up. He couldn’t stop himself before he leapt up and wrapped his arms around the demon. The sobs shook his body and Crowley stood there, holding the angel.

Crowley gently moved his hands to stroke Aziraphale’s perfect white curls, “I’m sorry I haven’t been here, angel.”

Aziraphale didn’t say a word, just burying his head into the demon’s neck. Crowley knew better than to pull away and just swayed gently, not letting his grip on the angel loosen any.

When Aziraphale did pull away, Crowley gently cupped his cheeks and wiped away the tears, “What’s wrong, my dear?”

“I missed you,” He blubbered, the words feeling heavy on his chest.

“I missed you too, but we’ve gone decades without seeing each other.”

Aziraphale shut his eyes and tried to find the right words, “It was different. It felt different.”

Crowley didn’t want to admit it but he felt the exact same.

This burning desire

Something about the contact with Crowley relit the fire in Aziraphale’s stomach. His body felt warm once more and he was ready to ease back into their usual song and dance. If Crowley was here, everything would be okay.

Where Crowley’s hands had once lay were tingles that consumed Aziraphale’s conscious. He wanted to fully embrace the reunion but in the back of his mind he couldn’t stop thinking about what the other angels would say.

Traitor. Sinner. Filthy. Unholy. Tarnished. Sullied.

Is turning me to sin

But as Crowley’s lips collided with his, he couldn’t think about them anymore. All the could think about was the burning desire that took over his whole body as his hands slipped under the demon’s shirt and his lips sloppily found their way to Crowley’s.

[heartinajarofpickles]

Dinner Is Not Over

Part 3

Broken over and over again

He started gaining back consciousness, first he opened his eyes, and then they tried to move their leg, but it was stuck, same with their other extremities, so there they waited, and waited, and waited.

Hours passed and little by little he regained control of his body, the body was still asleep, and as it was awakening it felt as if both legs and arms were full of static, some more time passed and Crowley was able to stand, now that he could focus he realized that all this time something has been sounding, so he went and investigate, as he was getting closer the sound grow louder and clearer, his heart started racing as the easily identifiable voice babble something incomprehensible, the voice that he had heard so many times, that voice the one he loved and craved became clearer, Crowley only know who the voice belonged to, they couldn’t exactly make sense of what he was saying, or where he was, but he was close, his angel had finally chosen him, Crowley’s legs started failing, not from his sleep but from excitement, from happiness to see the love of his life, to see him back.

Just as he was getting ready to go running and embrace him reality hit him like a semi-truck, it wasn’t Aziraphale talking, well technically it was, but the sound came from that machine, that stupid machine, filled with rage Crowley throw it across the room, hitting the concrete wall and breaking it into smaller pieces, a new distorted version of that sweet sweet voice emerging from the mess of old broken plastic, and then fire again, it was torture for the demon to be hearing whatever deformed variation of his angels voice that machine was creating, so he just burned it.

While watching it burn, he noticed something behind, on the hallway instead of the beautiful green colors that used to decorate the space not so long ago there were only ugly brown cardboard boxes, and on the inside pots filled with dirt, dust and what once was a living organism, this drove Crowley incredibly mad, kicking the boxes he flipped its contents spreading dirt all over the floors, but that wasn’t enough, in fact he had just started, Crowley absolutely demolished every boxed spilling the contents everywhere, his plants were all he had left of his old life, the only thing he still had controlled over, and from day to night they were all dead, his apartment has never felt so empty, so cold so monotonous, so small, suddenly the walls started feeling closer and closer, his lungs were burning, and his vision started getting blurry as he fell to the ground he needed to get out as quickly as possible, getting back on his feet would be an impossible chore so on all fours he crawled to where the door was, there and with great difficulty he was able to stand up, as he was going down the stairs he stated calming down a bit, just enough for them to get to the street and start the Bentley, of course Crowley wasn’t thinking, and some kind of primitive instinct drove him to the bookshop.

It was different, not only the bookshop, the whole street. Crowley though that without his angel, the street, and then slowly the whole world was going to become a gray tiring place with no sign of happiness or hope, Aziraphale’s absence had that effect on his life, so why wasn’t it having it on others, going straight to the library seemed out of place and thankfully the drive had already calmed him down a bit, so he went to the most colorful of all the stores, to where the last food of Aziraphale had come from, give me coffee or give me death, it was pretty much the same, except the store looked a lot happier now with (more) vibrant colors, lots of plants and old music making an ambience, in a corner there was a yellow record player and next to it tons of vinyl’s, not so well organized.

Just as Crowley was about to order Nina gave him an unsure smile

— “Hey!”

— “Hello Nina” responded Crowley, it was nice to see a friendly face, and although Crowley blamed her and Maggie just a little about the way things have ended it was still nice to have a friend

— “How’s life been treating you” BAD

— “Oh well, u know how it goes” did Nina know about Aziraphale leaving? Maybe they haven’t noted his absence, but they soon would and both her and Maggie would start asking questions, not only them but all the other people that meet Aziraphale too.

— “Hm yeah, just passing through or are you coming back around?”

— “I wanted to take a little walk”

— “Good, let’s hope you have more of those, we don’t want to forget your face”

— “Oh, you could never forget me”

— “Sure pal” Nina said in a sarcastic manner

— “So, what can I offer to you, mister Crowley?”

— “What was that thing? The one that tranquilizes people?”

— “Hmm”

— “The Eiffel cakes”

— “Oh, the Eccles cakes? I’m sorry, but we retired them a while ago, apparently raisins aren’t really that popular anymore”.

Crowley was incredibly confused, and although the stable ground had made him feel better than how we was 20 minutes ago this conversation with Nina was starting to make them dizzy again, what did she mean by a while ago?. Just the other day Azi had bought some.

— “Fine, I’ll have six shots of espresso then” no Eccles cakes must have been a sign of the universe

— “Such a radical change” Nina said giggling as she was turning her back to pour the almost black liquid in a big cup

— “Have a nice day mister and try to visit us more often” said Nina sincerly, she didn’t sound like she was playing a joke which confused Crowley even more

As he was leaving the place, a small question started growing deep inside his mind, a little query that started consuming her with each step that he gave getting closer to the bookshop just across the street.

How long had he been sleeping for?

[belit0]

Can please do Warrior by beth Crowley, I feel like this song would fit Indra and hsi wife, where the wife has powerful ablities and she wants him to help her.

I don't know if you've heard of the song before so but the lyrics match Indra and his wife so much, well mostly his wife

"You fascinated me

Cloaked in shadows and secrecy

The beauty of a broken angel

I ventured carefully

Afraid of what you thought I'd be

But pretty soon I was entangled

You take me by the hand

I question who I am

Teach me how to fight

I'll show you how to win

You're my mortal flaw

And I'm your fatal sin

Let me feel the sting

The pain

The burn

Under my skin

Put me to the test

I'll prove that I'm strong

Won't let myself believe

That what we feel is wrong

I finally see what

You knew was inside me

All along

That behind this soft exterior

Lies a warrior

My memory refused

To separate the lies from truth

And search the past

My mind created

I kept on pushing through

Standing resolute which you

In equal measure

Loved and hated

Teach me how to fight

I'll show you how to win

You're my mortal flaw

And I'm your fatal sin

Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com

Let me feel the sting

The pain

The burn

Under my skin

Put me to the test

I'll prove that I'm strong

Won't let myself believe

That what we feel is wrong

I finally see what

You knew was inside me

All along

That behind this soft exterior

Lies a warrior

Lies a warrior

Take me by the hand

I'm sure of who I am

Teach me how to fight

Ohhhh

The pictures come to life

Wake in the dead of night

Open my eyes

I must be dreaming

Clutch my pillow tight

Brace myself for the fight

I've heard that seeing

Is believing."

In fact, I took the lyrics quite literally, and made Indra into one of my favorite aus: fallen angel + witch reader.

"You fascinated me, cloaked in shadows and secrecy, the beauty of a broken angel." (Y/N) remembers, reliving the fateful night when she saw him fall from the sky. A ball of fire and burnt wings shot from the clouds with overwhelming speed, in the middle of the darkness, lighting up the sky with a hellish red color.

At the time, she did not understand what was happening, approaching the place where she saw that object impact after its monumental descent from heaven, encountering an image both enchanting and terrifying.

An angel, with charred wings and only a few black feathers remaining on his back, laid unconscious inside the crater he created when falling from that height. His skin smoldering with burns and the destruction of his wings felt like a terrible premonition.

Why would an angel be cast out of paradise?

"I ventured carefully, afraid of what you thought I'd be, but pretty soon I was entangled" Memories of how she helped him, how she saved him from a frightening fate of torturous death, keep coming to her mind, as Indra watches her with curious red eyes and broken wings still shining on his back, black feathers strewn all over the ground.

He had accepted the woman's help, had accepted to be healed by her magic, had accepted what he felt in his chest every time those delicate hands ran over his skin. (Y/N) saved him, body and soul, and promised to help him with his evil purposes.

He would retrieve his power with her help, go back to heaven, and take revenge.

"Every time you take me by the hand I question who I am..." The angel whispers, unsure of what the woman causes in his heart, overwhelmed by the mess she leaves in his mind. Never having felt anything for anyone, Indra has no idea what sentiments are, how one deal with them, or how humans cope. He had come into her arms a few months ago, and from the beginning, allowed her to breach him, to tear through his being with her mortal qualities.

"Teach me how to fight, I'll show you how to win my love." (Y/N) pleaded, time after time, trying to absorb even a little of her beloved's power, to gain some of his wisdom, of his teachings, of the sorcery he has to offer. The angel had become her love, her mate, a celestial being and a human united by unexplainable bonds, ties that should not exist, and the woman set out to devote all her heart and soul to her man's cause, to help him with his plan.

"You're my mortal flaw, and I'm your fatal sin... Let me feel the sting, the pain, the burn under my skin. Put me to the test, I'll prove that I'm strong, won't let myself believe that what we feel is wrong. I finally see what you knew was inside me all along." She implores, between whispers and demands. Knowing that once her beloved regains his wings, once his feathers heal and his power is restored, he'll be headed for a fight to the death with whoever kicked him out of heaven.

She needs to stand by his side and support him when it happens.

"Behind this soft exterior, lies a warrior." Between caresses and soft touches he had mentioned, hiding their naked bodies under charred black wings, appreciating the wondrous magic within (Y/N), giving an accurate telling and narration about the potential he himself recognized in her.

"My memory refused, to separate the lies from truth, search the past my mind created. I can't imagine without you, Indra, let me join your cause, let me be by your side through it. I'll keep on pushing through, standing resolute, which you in equal measure love and hate, I know. Every time you take me by the hand, I'm seeing who I am." Her words are a silent plea, an attempt to get to the bottom of her beloved, to make him understand how much she needs to support him in this, to accompany him, to make sure his battle is successful and he finishes his personal mission alive.

Months ago she found the love of her life lying under a disaster of his own creation, submerged in a crater of earth and on the verge of death. She can't lose him now, not so soon.

"The pictures come to life when I hear you speak like that, wake in the dead of night I open my eyes and... Yes, I must be dreaming. I'll clutch my pillow tight, brace myself for the fight, I've heard that seeing is believing. You're the most beautiful dream I never had (Y/N)." The angel whispers, and the woman thinks she sees tears in his eyes before he turns his face away, avoiding eye contact.

Indra seems determined to wage his battle alone, to face combat unaided, but she will not allow it. She will fight tooth and nail to make her beloved understand she cannot exist without him, that she does not wish to live in a reality where her angel no longer is, and she will not allow him to end up in the hands of those who mercilessly threw him to earth.

(Y/N) will fight for him, whether he wants it or not.

[treedish]

The stars don't shine, they burn, and boy did Crowley know his stars. And the shine of his favorite star in the sky could never compare to the everyday radiant light of his angel. But stars burned, and being too close to the celestial hurt him in ways he never thought were possible. Except, demons were meant to play with fire; they were meant to burn. So maybe it was okay if he stood just a bit too close to Aziraphale for his own good most days. Or at least, that's what he told himself.

He did worry about his angel though, for stars were lonely and often forgotten in the vast canopy of other stars. Very few humans loved just one star, instead marvelling at them as a whole. Being a star was a solitary existence, and no creature could ever get too close without being blinded or burned. Eventually, even the hottest, brightest stars would burn themselves to a crisp, and then explode in a grand destruction, reduced to dust and colorful matter drifting through space. Sometimes, when Crowley looked too long in his angels eyes, he saw blue giants swelling with love and light and he feared the day they would go nova. He created novas, after all, hell he created every star in the bloody sky and then some.

He was so proud of his celestial lights, and yet even with his joy over his beloved cosmic creations, God had once again outdone him by creating Aziraphale, the brightest celestial light that there ever was.

In a way, Aziraphale was the last thing between Crowley and full demonhood. Because when he Fell, he lost everything. His faith, his grace, his name. And he loathed. He angered. He raged. And he went up to Eden, to look upon God's new creations and tempt them away from Her. And there he was. Crowley had whispered in Eve's ear, tempted her to the apple and watched from the ground as she led Adam to humanity's destruction.

So you can imagine his surprise when mid-exile from the garden, an angel came up to the couple and offered them his flaming sword, to protect them and their unborn child from the dangers of the outside world. But that wasn't right at all. God and Her whole lot were rotten, sanctimonious, unimaginative, and so very apathetic in their holiness. Every angel he had ever known had blindly followed God's will, and Her will right now was to kick the humans out of the garden to fend for themselves as punishment. So why would an angel, an agent of the holy agenda, secretly give away a blessed artifact to the very humans he was meant to be judging right now?

His apologetic smile had been so soft and sincere that Crowley thought for a moment that the being wasnt an angel at all, but rather Grace incarnate. A being more pure and Good than the archangels themselves. But no, there he was, ushering them out of the garden before the storm arrived and blocking up the exit after they were gone.

He couldn't help but go up to the winged creature standing anxiously on the wall. He couldnt resist the temptation to speak with this being, this force of empathy. And he did and there was Aziraphale and Crowley found himself falling all over again. One afternoon, one interaction, one act of kindness, and suddenly all of his anger, all of his disgust, and all of the empty longing at the center of his being vanished. In its place, he found the echo of his Faith.

Somehow in his Fall, the warped core of his inhuman heart had burned to a crisp, but sheltered the tiniest hint of his hope, and it reared its ugly head then in his chest as he stared in amazement at this miraculously Good angel before him. It was as he'd said, by God's rules, he had been the one to do the good thing, and Aziraphale had been the one to do the bad. And the next 6000 years were history.

He may not believe in God or her bloody Plan, but he believed in Aziraphale, and his angel's unfailing ability to always do the right thing regardless of anyones blasted plans, even his own. All he had ever done in his entire existence, his whole relationship with the Almighty, had been to question. It was why he Fell. Why he didnt Fall as far as the others. But he found himself one night, bottle of whiskey in his hands and his twinkling creations above his head, speaking to God again. It was a habit he'd picked up and never been able to shake.

This time was different, however. After 60 centuries on Earth among the humans, this was the first time he didn't scream or beg or curse his questions at the heavens. Instead, he quietly admired his accidental constellations and whispered so quietly that only She would ever hear it.

"If there's one thing You ever got right, it was him. In all of Eternity, You have never made anything else that compares to that angel, not even your beloved whales. So I'm saying this once, now. Thanks. I don't care if You meant to or not, but You gave me the opportunity to live with the embodiment of my stars for the last few millennia, and for that one blasted, blessed thing I'll actually thank You, You bloody autocrat. But if You dare to cast him out, to try to throw him in with my lot, I'll hunt You down. I'll collapse space and time and matter itself until I reach You and I'll rip the blessed essence right out of Your incorporeal grace, do You understand me? He's the one truly Good thing You've ever done, don't You dare muck it up now."

If anyone ever asked him about it later, and of course no one ever did, he would deny thanking God for anything, and he would especially deny ever being grateful for the angel that left him behind.

[red-n-stuff]

There is something to be said about the length of a forever six-thousand years in the making.

Time stretches out endlessly before them as Crowley crushes his lips to the Angels’ in what is the most passionate display of a promise he can muster.

He won't call it what it isn’t; it isn't a kiss.

OR: I WROTE THE GOOD OMENS KISS SCENE BECAUSE I NEEDED TO EXPRESS MY FEELINGS

There is something to be said about the length of a forever six-thousand years in the making.

Time stretches out endlessly before them as Crowley crushes his lips to the Angels’ in what is the most passionate display of a promise he can muster.

He won't call it what it isn’t; it isn't a kiss.

Kisses are for lovers. Partners. Kisses are for those sad, soppy, sappy humans. Kisses are for Jane Austen's balls and being caught out in the rain. For looking deeply into someone's eyes as they look into yours.

That is not what this is.

It isn't, but, Crowley tries anyway.

‘Please’ he thinks.

It may not be a prayer, but it sounds like devotion the way it echoes between his ears, ‘if there is anything I’ve done to deserve him, let him remember it now. Let him understand how we got into this tangled, awful mess.’

His fingers tighten in Aziraphale's collar, the fabric bunches, the pressed cotton squeaking beneath his hands.

‘Please, let him see how much I need him.’

Azirpahale is as tense as anything against him, his breath quick, stuttering, his hands slipping against the fabric of Crowley’s blazer. Crowley lets himself believe, if only for a moment, that the fact that the angel hasn’t thrown him off in a flury of anger must mean something.

‘Please, I’ve done all I can, don't take him from me now.’

Aziraphale’s hand rest against his side, his lips still as the grave. Their skin presses hot against one another. It burns the way he’d always imagined holy water would. Cleansing and pure and beautiful.

‘Please.’

They break away from one another, Azirphale’s face flushed. His hands quivering. Recoiling as though he’s been burnt. His breath comes in frightened gasps. His summer sky eyes bunch into bouquets of asters. Shining wetly. Gossmar- gorgeous, lovely. Distraught.

Crowley stands his ground. Whatever aproximation of that thudding thing this body excuses for a heart has migrated to his throat. His shoulders straight. Behind the protective lense of his sunglasses, his eyes search for the answer Aziraphale is trying to find to give to him. He watches as the gears click and whir. Trying to find the proper thing. The answer that makes everyone happy.

‘Please.’

“I-” the angel breathes, eyes darting away, hands unable to sit still, bouncing from his waist coat, to his tie, to his face then back again. Crowley sees it for a flash- a simple fraction of the eternity that has swallowed them. That desperate something trying to crawl it's way out. Holding them here, in this awful, toe curling moment.

Whatever softness that lingers on Aziraphale’s face vanishes as soon as it appeared. Replaced seamlessly by tempered indignation.

“I forgive you.” Aziraphale stammers out, his voice, a clipped tone.

It was, in short, the ineffable end to this twisting, writhing snake that had made a home in the quiet moments between them.

In the end, Aziraphale had always been the apple, Crowley? Well he was Eve. He’d been blinded by desire, and tempted by that wretched reptile called hope.

He sucks in the tightest breath he can manage to eek out from his constricted lungs. His teeth pressed tight. He turns his head, fingers clenching, numb and staticky. That traitorious drum of a heart has disappeared right out of the sole of his snake-skin boots.

Straight to hell with that blasted thing. Bloody lot of good it's done him.

“Don’t bother-” He waves his hand, turning on his heel.

Something like shame tries to fight it’s way to the surface- embarrassment at the notion that he could have ever believed that he was ever half as important as, well, anything else to the angel.

Just like everything else Crowley has ever felt, he finds anger to be the more suitable substitute to the panel of emotions gathered to council over the issue.

He doesn’t look back as he storms out to the Bentley, suave and cool, with all the grace of a woman scorned in his swagger. He breathes through his hurt, and he leans his weight against the car door.

His Hands scrub his face frustratedly- resignation seeping into the marrow of his soul, that stupid, hapless part of him balking against this awful weighted coat thats settled on his shoulders.

“Damn you. Azirphale.” he mutters into the afternoon air. “Damn this. All of this.”

He sighs.

What, really, had he thought was going to happen? That he was going to somehow swoop in, save the day, get the girl? That somehow, the last six-thousand years worth of evidence never mattered. That somehow, even though the angel would never…could never, abandon the naive hope that things would ever get better; Crowley was going to matter. That he, of all things in this universe, would be worth more than the rest.

He really should have taken his own advice. He’d let Aziraphale rub off on him too much. Had let himself hope. Damned Naive fool that he is- how could he have let himself hope?

Despite himself, his eyes find the angel as he appears with Metatron amongst the crowd. That reptile hissing in his ear- the chance that Aziraphale may realize, last minute, the choice he’s decided to make.

He straightens, one hand against the handle of the car. Of course- his gaze always finds its way back to the blasted man. He forces himself to stare. To watch, as Aziraphale looks at him, sees him standing there, and choses to turn his back.

A bloody fool he’s been.

He turns as the Hevenator descends to collect them, tosses open the Bentley's door, and crumples himself inside of it.

He’s got his foot against the gas, peeling off the curb before the door even shuts behind him.

[hollandsmushroom]

Hey! can i get a request for koh! tom or mob!tom where he scares the reader and has to apologize and gets all soft bc he hates the idea of the reader fearing him

OH MY GOD! I am so obsessed with this, I love this so much, it is pretty good in my opinion.

I also just found out I love writing for King of Hell Tom! Hope you enjoy.

Read more here and request something here

Word Count: 1146

Your dress dragged against the floor as you walked, your nail scratching along the cold stone walls of the corridor that led to the throne room. It was chilled in the castle, something you never expected of hell but your skin was coated with goose bumps. The ornate Iron doors to the throne room were pushed open, a red rug unfurled out across the cobblestones. There were demons dressed in black suits, their eyes nothing but the abyss as their irises extended out to fill their whole eyes. They were gathered in a small semi-circle around the throne, nothing but a shiny black leather shoe showing of your love. You swayed slowly as you moved down the carpet, many demons dispersing out of your path further exposing Tom on his throne. His face was screwed tight as he growled towards Crowley, something about not fucking up again. Crowley looked scared, a demon being scared was something that you never thought you would see but your time in hell has changed many things, the first being your perception of the devil. With a flick of his wrist the demons dispersed, some walked out, averting their gaze from you as you stood in your blood red glory, some simply turned into crimson smoke dispersing through the intricate metal grates on the floors and walls.

“Hello King” you lilt, climbing the short steps to stand in front of Tom but his blackened eyes refused to meet yours. “Tom?” you asked again, reaching out for him but pulling away when he finally met your eyes. They were hard, impossible, everything about him always softened when you were around, but no, they were like granite, a diamonds edge cutting into your good mood.

“What?” His voice was sharp and came out like a hiss, like you had always imagined a devil with a forked tongue to sound, but this wasn’t The Devil, this was your devil, or was he, something about him was fundamentally off and it was throwing you.

“I just wanted to come say hi” you uttered, feeling impossibly small as he stood up to his full height, red leather like wings spreading out behind him, they snap against the air, the noise thrashing against your eardrum yet you stand strong, he was your Tom for afterall.

“Why would you think that I wanted you to come say hi?” his voice was a growl that made your skin crawl, everything felt incorrect.

“You usually like it when I come say hi, you-” you were cut off.

“Can you just shut the fuck up for a minute!” He screamed, his face red with anger and a vein popping from the column of his neck, he lunged forward when he yelled, not threateningly, but enough to make you jump back, the sound of your heels scratching against the ground was what alerted him to your flinch, eyes too emblazoned with rage to focused on how much he was scaring you. His face fell when he realized the dramatic change in distance that you had put between the both of you, his heart clenching as he saw your pinched features, eyes rimmed with tears as your breathing became slightly ragged, your pointed nails digging into your palm as you clenched and unclenched your fists anxiously, you were scared, he didn’t like it when you were scared. You were scared, and it was because of him and it felt like the bottom had fallen out of his world as he watched you wordlessly turn your back on him and rush out. He called out your name, trying to follow you but you were quick. The train of your dress disappearing around a corner in a fork in the hallway before he could see which way you were going. Pausing he examined his options, dark stone halls that may or may not lead to his love, one had to, but one must also assume that you desired to me alone, to lick your wounds. Falling back he let his back collide with the wall, his wings returning to press against his shoulders in the time it took for him to sway against the stone, letting his head fall between his legs in shame.

His day passed slowly as his skin burned hotter than the fires outside the door. It was anger and shame that was pouring through his veins. The emotions changed eventually, morphing to worry, worry of if you would forgive him, or if this was it, had this strained your relationship. The worries of if the both of you were okay but that faded when you didn’t return. He had demons searching the castles of hell for you high and low, he was in on the action as well. Every demon that came back with bad news that you weren’t located yet was nearly incinerated on the spot, and if he had had the time they would have all been nothing but a spot of sulfur on the ground. It was when more demons had come and gone than Tom would have been able to count that he considered where you might have been. His feet immediately carried him to the top tourette of the castle, he found you sat on the ground, your back leaning against the wall, your eyes opening as you heard his footsteps approaching, pushing yourself away from him making his heart break.

“Y/n” he whispered, his voice hoarse from the yelling orders, desperately trying to locate his love.

“You here to tell me to fuck off again?” you hiss looking up at him through swollen tear stained eyes.

“Love” he whispered, falling to the ground in front of you as he reached out to you but you once again pulled away.

“What, you want me here now?” though your words were harsh you seemed slightly softened at his presence the apologetic air was flowing off of him.

“Love, I-I always want you, I am sorry, please, please don’t be scared of you, I can’t have you being scared of me, the whole world is already” he was breaking apart in front of you and no matter how much his words had hurt you earlier you could feel in your heart how much he had hurt himself by hurting you.

“Tom, I don’t fear you” You assured, reaching out to him and cupping his cheek, raising his head from the position that he had hung it in in shame. “I could never fear you, just don’t you dare talk to me like that again, or you will see which one of us can truly raise hell” You press your forehead harder against his, uniting your lips softly in a kiss of assurance.

“My queen of hell” he sighed, pulling his lips from yours but pulling you close by your neck, not ready to let you go now.

@capital-koreasofia @marvelhasmyheart235 @iluvdeja

@quaksonhehe

[actual-changeling]

i thought too much about Crowley's fall and ended up with 800 words of... something. enjoy (hopefully)

——

Crowley—still Crawly then—wondered for a while whether there was anything noble in falling. It had certainly felt like it for a while, when falling meant spreading your wings and warming steel within your fists, when falling was not falling but rising from the depths She had bound them to.

With his own creations at his fingertips, he understood the urge to protect what seemed so much more fragile than himself, thinking himself to be Her in all the ways that mattered—thinking that She, too, would protect what was Hers and nothing but a candle flame next to Her radiance.

After the fall, after broken wings and bleeding hearts, and even with his memories buried in a fog of pitch-black pain, he knows that he never regretted a single question. She made him, but he was remaking himself.

When he met a familiar face on the walls of Eden, he soon understood that there was the same familiar warmth in an entirely different kind of fall.

After falling for love—for his stars—he fell into love with open eyes and no fear of hitting the ground. Nothing could ever compare to the agony of grace burning its way out of his soul, and despite still healing scars, he was hoping to never land at all.

Crowley fell for six thousand years, falling so Aziraphale did not have to, falling because he saw something worth protecting, falling because he could protect him.

Falling because no one protected him, and now pain does not matter anymore. Falling because if there is one thing worse than regretting the jump, it is realising half-way down that the person you jumped for never meant to catch you at all.

God had loved him, once upon a time, with kindness in Her eyes yet not in Her words, not in Her hands. When he fell out of Her favour, he was swallowed up by the dark and spit out at the feet of the earth, forever bound to shadows.

Aziraphale loves him, and that has never been the question Crowley was too scared to ask—it is the 'how' that terrified him, or rather the fact that the answer to it has always been buried deep below his ribs. He wasn't scared to ask; he was scared to look down and see him stepping away with his hands behind his back.

Aziraphale loves him like God loves him:

Not like a fragile creation to protect, but a creature with the purpose of serving as the oxygen to his flame, so he can keep shining while Crowley watches his hands blacken with ash and soot. In all their time, Aziraphale never dared to reach out, to touch, apparently too afraid of tainting himself; still guiltessly hoping that She, who averted Her gaze long ago, would one day meet his eyes again.

Crowley saw the truth of Her light and fell for his stars. He fell for an angel no longer his, he fell, so Aziraphale did not have to. They are both standing on the same precipice, one having already clawed his way back up, the other closing his eyes and refusing to hear Her voice commanding them to jump.

Risk the fall, gain freedom or balance on the edge, and convince yourself that you will never sway too far to the wrong side. Convince yourself that She would ever allow you to step back from the cliff instead of pushing you off it. Convince yourself that you are too light and burning too brightly for gravity to ever get a hold of you. Convince yourself that those are the screams of the depraved and not the righteous—you with a different face, you with darker wings, you in all but name in soul, you you you—meeting a fate meant for all of Her children.

This has to be love, Crowley decides halfway down; it has to be. After all, he will still be there once I have climbed back up.

After all, he never told me to jump.

After all, he never pushed me off the edge—he simply stepped back and said you first without ever intending to follow.

In love, there is devotion, and what is devotion but carving the best parts of yourself out of your soul and offering them—raw and bleeding—to someone who would rather watch you destroy everything you could have been than ever hand anything back to you?

(Someone who watched you jump and judged you for it.)

There is barely anything left of him now, but there is something left. Something bright and fragile, a being robbed of innocence so long ago. The only thing worth falling for, no matter what name he gives himself.

Crowley breathed life into the emptiness of the universe, and now it owes him; if no one is willing to fall with him, he will pull them down and reclaim what is his until his feet are touching the ground again.

Until he stops looking up and looks forward instead, no longer waiting for anyone to follow while he finally walks away from heaven's edge.

[make-me-imagine]

Scenario Prompts: Feb 22 E: + Feb 18 E: Lucifer is protective of you because he is in love with you + Lucifer Confesses he is in love with you, because he is in love with you.  Requested by: Two Separate(?) Anons

Premise: Lucifer has protected and saved you multiple times in the past; when you are finally alone with him you get the chance to ask him why. 

Pairing: Lucifer x Gen!Neutral Reader

Triggers: Fighting, Blood, injuries, monster death, etc.             

Words: 3k (told you it was long)

Everything Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural​ Supernatural Taglist: @kaashi​

Note: I have not seen the last 3-4 seasons of Supernatural. So this is based in a world were Lucifer is like Crowley; he’s a “bad guy” that shows up to help, and annoy Sam and Dean occasionally and what not.

See about Scenario Prompt Requests: here

You eyed the angel from the corner of your eye as he leaned against the doorway, picking at his nails. Walking across the room and stopping next to Dean you spoke quietly to him “Why is he here again exactly?” 

He glanced over at Lucifer before responding “No idea, but I guess it’s better to have an eye on him than to have no idea where he is and what he’s up too.” 

You looked over at Lucifer, your heart skipping a beat when you see that he is now staring at you. Looking back at Dean you muttered “If you say so.” 

Turning at the sound of the door, Sam walks in with a duffel bag in hand “Hey, so I didn’t-” he stops in his tracks when he spots Lucifer “What the hell are you doing here?” he asked before looking at you and Dean. 

Lucifer shrugged “Bored.” he said plainly before looking back at you and Dean “But it’s better that I’m here right? Rather than you having no idea where I am or what I’m up too.” he repeated Dean’s own words back to him with a slight smirk on his face.

Sam let out an annoyed sigh before walking to the table and putting down the duffel bag “Anyways, what I was saying was that I didn’t find any trace of the witches in town, so they must be hiding out outside of town. If we can figure out where then we can get them by surprise.” 

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that one Sammy.” Lucifer said as he peaked out the curtained window. 

“Yeah, and why’s that?” Sam asked with disdain. 

“Because I’m pretty sure they already know you’re here.” He said as he straightened up, just as the door blasted in making you all jump and fall into a defensive stance.

You reached for the knife in your belt, leaving your hand on it in preparation as you watched three older women and a man walk into the room. They must have followed Sam back here. Lucifer slowly rounded the side of the room until he was on the same side as you. You stared at him in confusion as he stepped in front of you, getting in your way. 

“Well well, to what do we owe the honor of having the Winchesters in our humble little town?” One of the women asked, a scornful look on her face before she looked at Lucifer and then saw you behind him “And I don’t believe I know either of you.” 

Lucifer took a step forward “What a shame, and here I thought I was famous.” he said with a sarcastic tone in his voice “Lucifer, nice to meet you.”

The witches looked at each other before smiling “Yeah right” one of the younger witches said with a scoff “As if Lucifer would be with the Winchesters.” 

Lucifer shrugged “We’re working on our problems” he looked back at Sam. “Right Sammy?” Sam clenched his jaw in annoyance before looking back at the witches. 

“Then you’re a traitor” one of the witches said with anger before he raised his hand, shooting out a fire ball at Lucifer and you. 

Lucifer quickly reached his arm back grabbing and pushing you out of the way before he lunged towards the witch, gripping him on the shoulder and staring into his eyes “Well that was dramatic. And quite stupid honestly.” 

You watched as the witch began to crumple to the ground as his skin began to burn, landing on the floor lifeless. You were surprised by this, having thought Lucifer lost most of his stronger powers. 

One of the other witches yelled in anger, gaining your attention once again. You and Dean lunged forward and attacked the other witches with your iron blades. Sam took out his gun and fired his gun at one of the witches, killing them immediately. 

As you stabbed one of the witches she screamed before using her magic to throw you across the room. As you hit the wall you watched as Lucifer grabbed her, killing her as well before turning and watching as Dean struggled to kill the last witch. Rolling your eyes as he did nothing, you ran forward past him before stabbing the witch in the back and killing her before she hexed Dean. 

Panting and trying to ignore the pain from having been thrown so hard you looked back at Lucifer “Since when did you get your powers back?” 

He shrugged “Not long. Besides, I don’t have all of them back, just some.” He saw Dean and Sam glaring at him so he raised his hands up “Don’t worry, I have no intention of using them on you.” You looked back at Sam and Dean before Lucifer spoke again “Well. This was fun. But I’m bored again, so...see ya” 

You turned back to him just as he vanished. You sighed, wondering where he went, and what trouble he was going to get himself into. Hoping that he wouldn’t return to his old ways. 

- - -

**Two Weeks Later**

Currently you were on another case, some strange attacks had been happening that seemed supernatural so you were checking it out. You got a lead on a possible suspect. A man picking up people at a bar, 7 out of 10 of those people had been found dead or missing. 

Catching the mans eye you smiled at him, trying to lure him in. Turning away from him, you waiting, staring down into your drink. Feeling a presence behind you as someone sat down, you glanced up, almost choking as your eyes met a familiar pair of blue ones. 

Straightening up, you glanced back, seeing the man you were here for was now gone. Mentally cursing you glared at the man in front of you before whispering angrily at him “Lucifer, what the hell are you doing here?” 

His eyes widened slightly as he was taken aback by your aggression “Woah, can’t a guy check in every now and again?” 

You sighed “Not when I’m on a case” you said as you looked back into the bar, trying to find the man you had been tracking again “Damn it.” You muttered. 

Lucifer followed your gaze before leaning in “Did I interrupt something?” 

You rolled your eyes “Yes, now stay” you said pointing at him as you rose from your seat, walking towards the back door. Aware of his eyes watching you as you left. 

Taking a few steps outside, you looked around the parking lot, checking to make sure the mans car was still outside. You felt a pang of relief when you saw it was still there. 

“Hey there.”

You spun around at the voice, meeting the eyes of the same man from before. “Oh, hello” you said with a smile, trying to sound casual. 

“Just wanted to check if you were alright.” The man got a little closer, somewhat circling you as he continued “I was gonna come say hello, but that guy came up to you. Honestly you seemed kind of pissed about it.” 

“Saw that did you?” you asked “My ex.” you said with a hint of annoyance in your voice, doing your best to play dumb. 

“I had a feeling” he smiled at you before taking a step closer. “Wanna go somewhere else? Get away from him?” 

Just as you opened you mouth to speak you were cut off by another voice “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

The guy turned to the voice, as your eyes landed on Lucifer “Who-” the man before before Lucifer leaned back and punched the man in the face, effectively knocking him out. 

“What th- Lucifer!” you yelled as you stared down at the unconscious man. 

“What?” he asked defensively “That was the guy you were after right?” 

“Yeah, but I needed him to take me!”

Lucifer hesitated “I’m sorry? You- Needed him to take you? You were trying to get kidnapped?” He asked incredulously. 

“Yes!” you yelled before looking back, hearing someone running towards you. Sam and Dean came running from their hideout spot “Dude! What the hell, what are you even doing here?!”

“Well, I assumed I was helping.” Lucifer said, nearly pouting. 

You sighed as you looked at him before speaking to Sam and Dean “I think he thought I was in trouble.” you turned back to Lucifer “You were trying to help me.” He shrugged in response “Why?” you asked. 

He remained silent for a moment “Why not?” 

In the blink of an eye he had vanished, leaving you standing there. You rose your arms up in bewilderment before looking back at Sam and Dean with an annoyed sigh. 

- - -

*One Week Later*

You winced in pain as you continued to run as fast as you could, looking back to check if the wendigo was still coming after you. When you showed up on the case, everything pointed to werewolves, but man were you wrong.

When you got to the hunting sight, and heard a mimicked voice of Sam, who you knew was no where near you. You got suspicious and began heading back to the car. Not long later the Wendigo attacked you, cutting open your side with it’s claws. You managed to make it back off after shooting it in the head. But you needed fire. 

As you now ran as fast as you could back to where you had split off from Sam and Dean. You could hear the monster roaring from somewhere behind you. 

Knowing you couldn’t outrun the wendigo with your injury you desperately called out in your mind ‘Cas!’ you thought in your mind, hoping he could hear you, but having no idea where he was. “Come on!” you muttered desperately, before another thought crossed your mind ‘Okay, Lucifer!’ you called out to him in your mind ‘Since you keep trying to save me, now would be the best time to do it!” you practically yelled out just as you heard the wendigo shriek, the noise shaking through you as you could hear it land right behind you. 

Suddenly lunging to the side, you saw as the wendigos clawed hand swiped where you had just been. Loosing your footing you tumbled down a small hill, rolling. As you tried to stand back up, the wendigo landed right in front of you, swiping at you, knocking you back a few feet as you slammed into a tree. 

You’re vision was spotty as you stared up at the creature as it began to approach you. As it rose it’s hand in the air, ready for it’s final attack. You flinched when you saw a bright light shine from behind it. 

The wendigo shrieked as it arched back, the light engulfing it’s body and turning into flames. You pushed yourself away as the wendigo’s body fell forward onto the ground, dead.

Looking up, you see Lucifer standing in front of you, looking down at the monster, his eyes fading from their Angelic glow. His gaze moved from the monster to you as he now saw just how close he was to having been too late. He saw your clothes now soaked in blood as you struggled to sit up. 

He moved over to you and crouched down “I didn’t know if you heard me.” You mumbled, as you grew weaker. 

Lucifer gingerly reached towards your wound before briefly meeting your eyes "Of course I heard you.” You winced as he placed his hand on your stomach, a light emitting from it as you felt the warmth fill your body, being replaced by strength. 

After a moment he removed his hand, you looked down, seeing your deep wound now simply a fading mark. You looked up and met his eyes as he stared deeply into your own “Thank you.” you muttered, feeling an uneasy shyness take over. 

“Y/n!” You heard familiar voices shouting through the trees as Sam and Dean slowly appeared, running towards you. As they got to you, they saw the dead wendigo and Lucifer. 

“What the hell happened?” Sam asked as he ran over to you and helped you up, seeing the blood remnant on your shirt. 

You looked between Sam and Dean and then the wendigo “The wendigo was chasing me, I was already injured and knew I couldn’t take it alone. I tried to call out to Cas but he didn’t come, so...” you looked over at Lucifer “I called out to Lucifer, and he showed up just in time to save me.” 

Sam looked over at Lucifer and silently nodded his head, a form of thanks, as Dean checked the wendigo “Damn. How the hell did we not think wendigo?” 

“They seemed too much like werewolf attacks.” Sam said as Lucifer seemed to catch on to what had happened. 

“Lets get back to the hotel, head back in the morning.” Dean said as he stood. 

You leaned against the tree, still feeling tired as Sam set his hand on your shoulder to steady you. Lucifer continued to watch you as you wiped some blood from your face, revealing a small cut along your cheek. 

Lucifer suddenly walked up to you, making you straighten up. Placing his hand on your shoulder you opened your mouth to question him but stopped when you felt an unusual feeling wash over as you nearly fell over, the tree you had been leaning on now gone as you stood in the middle of the bunker. 

Lucifer placed his hands on either side of your shoulder to steady you as you looked around. “What, why did you bring me here?” 

“Would you have rather sat in a dingy hotel room with them before driving all the way back here in your condition? I know I healed your main wound, but I don’t have enough power to heal everything, I can tell how unsteady you are.” 

As he spoke, you took out your phone and texted Sam to tell him where you were, before looking back up and meeting his eyes as he kept his hand on your shoulders. You saw his eyes flick to the cut on your face. 

Pulling away from him you walked slowly to the kitchen, getting a damp rag and using it wipe off your face. Leaning against the counter, you looked at Lucifer who was still looking at you. 

“Why do you keep helping me?” you asked.

He remained silent and emotionless for a moment before he walked into the kitchen, leaning against the counter across from you, meeting your eyes again. “Do you not want me to?” he asked. 

“That’s not what I’m getting at.” you began “You keep showing up at random times, saving me, helping me, being protective and I just want to know why. A few years ago we were enemies. We tried to kill each other multiple times. And now what, we’re cool? You’re just going to keep saving me?” 

He continued to stare at you before looking down at his hands, thinking to himself. “I always had a soft spot for you.” He looked back up now “You’re stronger than most humans, different. Not as annoying or helpless. I find it... frustrating. I hate humans. But you...I can’t seem to. ” 

You were slightly taken aback by his clear honesty “I never understood why you hate humanity. I mean, there is a lot to hate in humans definitely, but overall people are good. I don’t get why you can’t see that.” 

He let out a dry chuckle “I see that goodness in you, but not in others. Other humans are not good. They are selfish and childish.”

You tilted your head and stared at him. Smiling lightly he did the same, mirroring you. You felt your lips tug slightly before you stood up, tossing the rag into the sink “I still don’t understand how I’m different from other humans.” you said simply as you walked out of the kitchen. 

Lucifer reached out and grabbed your wrist, stopping you. Turning back to him you were startled when he brought his face close to yours as he stared down at you “You are entirely different. And...I’m frustrated because I can’t quite put my feelings into words. I’ve never felt this....especially not for a human.” 

You swallowed, trying to steady your heavy beating heart “I can’t change that I am human. But you can change what you think of humans. It’s not bad to change your point of view Lucifer.” 

A soft smile tugged at his lips “Perhaps. But maybe I only want to like one human, and tolerate others.”

“So that feeling you can’t put into words is that you like me, and you hate it?”

He brought his hand to your face, rubbing his thumb across the small cut along your cheek. Feeling a warmth come from his hand as your face tingled, you figured he had healed the small cut. “No.” You met his eyes again as he stared into your own “The feelings I can’t put into words is love.” 

Your eyes widened slightly at his confession, you really had not expected Lucifer of all people to say that he felt love for a human, love for you, one of the ones who helped damn him back to the cage. 

He saw the uncertainty in your eyes and understood it. How could you believe him. After all that you, he, and the Winchesters had been through. How could you believe it wasn’t a trick? 

Bringing his other hand to your face, he brought his lips to your forehead in a kiss before looking back into your eyes. “There is no such thing as redemption for the Devil. But falling in love with you gives me hope that I can be good enough to be loved in return.” He leaned down and brought his mouth close to your ear “Know, that I will always come when you call.” 

Feeling a rush of air, you stared at the now empty space in front of you. Looking around at the now empty bunker, you struggled to keep calm, his words repeating in your mind. Did the Devil really love you? Or was it a trick? And why did you desperately not want it to be. 

xx End xx

I hope you liked it, let me know if you did, or even if you want another part???

Please consider reblogging if you enjoyed~

[honey-milk-depresso]

Boys (TWST OC Auristella x Reader; 1)

A little bit leaning onto the inspiration of @/ wolkenhimmel’s Divus Crewel x Reader, but with Auristella. 

If you don’t know who that OC is, she’s over here to learn more though only some bits are under constructing. That is all hope you enjoy!

Side mentions: Aeppermint is mentioned.

Warning: Some of your favorite, no maybe all, of your TWST boys would be dissed by Miss Auri.

POV: Auri, being the motherly hen she is, decides to bring up the most important thing any parent would bring up to their teenage children..... the boys they know.

JKSHJSHS I FORGOT TO TAG THE AURI SIMP- @crispysatan​

“I think this maroon jacket would go well over your uniform instead of that boring blazer, no?”

“Um- I think..?” you looked blankly at the jacket she was holding, as she examined the rest of the other articles of clothing and more on the displays of the private workshop for clothing in the school.

Auristella is in charge of the school jerseys and merchandise, but she went WAY overboard to the likes of Crewel and went over to create a whole clothing store in NRC.

“Ooh! Love the shoes! I actually had a friend collaborate with me on this~” she states, smiling intently at the white and black, leathered shoes enticing her on the display.

“Um, Miss Auri?”

“Hmm?” She turned around to see you wearing a lavender cardigan over a white dress shirt, as you twirled around in it.

“Oh, yes! Absolutely stunning, darling!”

You blushed at the cheery compliment, as she went around you as to inspect the outfit.

“You think?”

“Hmm, maybe if you wear some black jeans, maybe brown boots, you can get boys falling from all angles. Which reminds me,” the crab lady , sat down on one of the plush, white seats of the store, placing a hand on her chin as she crossed her legs.

“Go change out first, I want to speak with you about something important.”

You blinked. “Ah.. okay, give me a moment.”

While changing in the changing room, your thoughts lingered through your mind on what Auristella could possibly want to talk about. Your answer was given in a straight face after you finished changing and stepped out. She gestured you to sit and looked at you dead in the eye.

“So, boys,” she firmly started. Your mouth was left with an opened smile, blinking twice in confusion.

“Knowing Crowley, you’ll be in Twisted Wonderland for awhile. So, you’ll get to socialize with the boys of NRC longer during your stay, no?”

“Well, I guess so.”

“Then, you’ll find multiple love interests, but only one king can claim your heart~” she teases, watching in amusement as your face suddenly flared a fierce, blushing red.

“W-what?! M-miss Auri, I- I- I’m just an ordinary-”

“You are no ordinary land dweller! You’re friends with a former red listed criminal! You’ve faced through four overblots and still in one whole! For someone with no magic it’s significant. By this point, it probably becomes your hobby,” she interrupts, joking a little at the last part of her sentence.

You giggled a little, face still dousing red.

“I... I mean, even so... I don’t think THAT many people are, you know, attracted to me..” you shy away, looking down to the ground and fiddled with your hands before you looked back at her.

Auri’s faced dropped to a frown, looking at you as if you aren’t human anymore. You awkwardly looked at her before you were startled by her sudden outburst.

The drama queen.

“Oh my gods, no! You are what people say why God made a human, and you’re stunning! I choose your dressing, and you’ll be a damn ethereal being or Aphrodite’s child!”

Burning red, you covered your face, but Auristella pushed your hands away to have your face uncovered.

“Now, now, start with elimination, Ace is out, Idia is out, Leona, Sebek and Riddle.”

You almost choked. “A-Auristella! Don’t insult them!!”

She cocked an eyebrow. “Darling... Ace is an imbecile, Idia is scared of the outside world, Leona can’t even bring about 1 unit of energy in his life, Sebek is more in love with Malleus, and Riddle’s head is too wrapped around with the rules. He’s going to be quite a controlling lover!”

“B-but! Ace is... a pretty nice person, and he can be smart and bring me through some pretty cool experience, I guess it can be drama... Idia is a really caring guy, especially to his brother, Ortho. Maybe he has something going on..? That’s why he only use online to be secretive..? Oh! Sebek is just protective, which he is protective over his friends too besides Malleus and Riddle can be sweet! And...er... Leona-”

“Okay, stop,” Auri clapped her hands twice. “There is no point in defending Kingscholar.”

“But-!”

“If his only way of expressing love is through cuddles and family wealth, then NO,” she firmly states, crossing her legs again.

“Anyways, the rest of them. Deuce can be sweet, and he surely can be unexpected with his whole switch in personality when he’s protective, but his anger issues might be a problem. Cater.. I can respect his love for photogenic things and aesthetics, he’s too much of a Magicam addict. Trey is... okay, he bakes, he’s a family man, he’s caring... he CAN be a selected candidate, just that all he needs to do is be more... ‘out there’,” Auri states, putting her hands on her knee. You could only look at her, speechless.

“Jack is fine, I just find him too traditional, and too much into exercising that I’m not sure he’ll focus on you more than his exercise routine. But, I mean, he’s fine. Ruggie is a lil brat, but he’s caring for his grandmother, a heart of another family man. He can bring about some good drama, but he’s still a brat.”

“I think-”

“Octavinelle!!”

You sighed, covering your face with your hands. This might take awhile, would it?

====Part 2 to be continued!!====

[the-gilbird]

so i haven’t really posted anything like this before. but fuck it, because good omens is amazing, and i just shared this with the discord server, and they encouraged me to share it here, so. let’s-a-go, i guess

anyway. so. here it is.

so, we all know crowley is capable of massive feats, in terms of miracles. he can stop time on a whim. he can make a car make it through a ring of whatever the fuck kind of flame surrounded london via the m25, and then have it continue to function for several hours after that. he can pull two other entities (including the fucking antichrist) into what i can only assume to be a pocket dimension or something similar outside of time when one of the most powerful entities in the goddamn universe was approaching their location. and we also know why he is capable of the things he does: his imagination. crowley's creativity and imagination are one of the most powerful forces in the goddamn universe and that's not even an exaggeration. now, the other thing. aziraphale. he's smart, and cunning, and the biggest thing working against him is his lack of confidence in his abilities. he deciphered a large portion of agnes nutter's notoriously fucky riddles in one night. he figured out how to possess someone, despite no angel having done it before. and the reason he isn't higher in the pecking order in heaven is because he's kind, and loves the way angels should; and he is told for six millenia that he is not a good angel, which feeds into the lack of self confidence. but after ain'tmaggedon, he's free of heaven's influence. in fact, the only influence he really has now is crowley. and crowley's loved him for that six millenia, and probably sings his praises as often as he can now that crowley is likewise free of hell's influence, because he is a dumbstruck loveass. so aziraphale is more confident in his own abilities and traits, now. and aziraphale is intelligent. agnes nutter's final prophecy got them out of heaven and hell's line of view, and gave them time. but they won't stay away forever; crowley acknowledged that, right after the switch back in the garden. and aziraphale knows that it's only a matter of time before someone notices some discrepency, and they get caught (there's ten million angels and ten million demons, after all. someone's going to notice). so aziraphale begins to plan.

the first thing he does is plant the seeds, if you'll pardon the pun. after things have been settled for some time, he starts researching. pulling out the oldest ethereal (and occult) texts he owns (which are very old, and very numerous), and researching everything he can about the nature of angels and demons, and the nature of holy water and hellfire. and this takes up some time (seeds need to take root, after all. crowley needs to see him doing the research, after all). and occasionally, exactly as aziraphale knows he will, crowley will ask aziraphale what he's looking into, and aziraphale will say he's looking into protections against hellfire and holy water, for if heaven and hell ever figure out their little misdirection. (and crowley will hem and haw at him for referring to deceiving the entireties of heaven and hell, one of the greatest wiles ever pulled off in all of time, with the same language used to talk about magic tricks. and aziraphale will smile, because he loves every part of crowley.) and this will continue. and eventually, aziraphale will tell crowley that he's made a breakthrough. of course, aziraphale won't actually have made that big of a breakthrough. he has everything he needs by day three. but crowley needs to believe it. crowley needs to believe that aziraphale spent that entire time researching and plotting and planning and reading, because aziraphale is the smartest person that crowley knows, and if anyone can figure it out, his angel can. but what aziraphale tells him is that there wasn't any need of a plan at all, really. all this research has essentially been for moot. well, not for moot, because now they both know, but they didn't actually need to do anything with the information, aziraphale explains, because they're already safe, and have been for some time.

because, aziraphale says, holy water and hellfire can't affect them anymore. because crowley loves him with all of his heart, aziraphale explains, and he loves crowley with all of his. (don't technically have a heart, crowley says, still a bit blown away, what on account of them having corporations and not bodies, and all. oh hush, you know what i mean, aziraphale says back, and gives crowley a kiss on the forehead for his trouble.) and if a demon loves an angel, really loves them, hellfire won't burn them, because hellfire is the creation of demons, beings of destruction, generally, fueled by the hatred of their opposition, and so if a demon doesn't hate angels, it won't burn as strongly. and if a demon loves an angel, just one, then the angel won't be destroyed. and it works the same the other way 'round with holy water, aziraphale says, more excitedly, as crowley watches him enraptured, because holy water is blessed by angels, used to wipe out the opposition which they hate. and so if an angel loves a demon, that demon will be protected from the blessing, even blessings created by other angels. because love is a powerful force, it is the basis of the creation of humanity, when god first whispered the idea of them into being. when you love someone and have that love returned, you are giving yourself, wholely and completely, to another, and everything you are protects them with everything you have. it just so happens, aziraphale finishes by saying, that the respective weaknesses and strengths of angels and demons balance out rather nicely. humans put this phenomenon into very nice words, once; you must be subjected to the mortifying ordeal of being known, in order to get the rewards of being loved. and so they are ready. when they come (and they do come, they were always going to come, eventually), they take aziraphale first, just like last time. but unlike last time, aziraphale and crowley are together when their respective former head offices come to deal the killing blows. holy water said to be blessed by the almighty herself, and hellfire harvested from the deepest pits of hell, fueled by satan's everlasting rage. the strongest stuff there is, just so there is every guarentee. (the water fizzles gabriel's skin lightly, even, as a drop falls out as he carries it over, and the fire roars with a heat that even beelzebub inches away from.) it is volatile, it is deadly, and there is absolutely no hope for the traitors now. (or there wouldn't be, if aziraphale weren't so smart.) and crowley is shackled to the ground, his shoulders restrained by... demons? angels? he doesn't know, and he doesn't rightly care at this point, they're all the same to him, forcing him to face aziraphale, shackled and bound just as he is, being led into a roaring inferno of the hottest hellfire crowley has ever seen. and he knows, he knows they're safe, aziraphale looked into every possibility and he trusts aziraphale, trusts him with everything, trusts him with the name he had before the Fall and even with that he can't help struggling, and snarling, and doing everything he can to get out and run to his angel, trying every trick in the book but it's not working because there are too many enemies abound, too many hands holding him down and restraining him as his head is pulled back by his hair and he is forced to watch as aziraphale is shoved into the flames.

(aziraphale knew this, too. crowley is the heart, out of the two of them, he always was, and heaven and hell want every bit of revenge they can get, they want it to hurt. they know it will hurt worst if crowley is forced to watch the love of his life die in front of him, unable to do anything, and for aziraphale to die knowing that he can't protect crowley from what is coming next.) (really, it's no wonder aziraphale figured out agnes nutter's prophecies so quickly; for being two completely different entities, they think with remarkable similarity.) but aziraphale has already protected crowley. he has already protected both of them, because he is the smartest being crowley has ever known, and because he knows crowley, just as crowley knows him. and he knows crowley is, hands down, one of the most powerful beings in all of creation, and crowley's imagination is a force never to be reckoned with. all that stuff aziraphale spouted, about how a love from a demon can protect an angel, and vice versa? bullshit. complete and utter bullshit. aziraphale found what he needed to in those books he researched, and what he needed was just enough solid evidence for him to convince CROWLEY that it was true. it is the biggest, boldest, most daring lie aziraphale has ever told, and he will never tell crowley the truth because he can't. (he has practice, with this whole lying thing. he's lied to humans, he's lied to heaven, hell, he's even lied to crowley before. and he promised crowley he would never tell him another lie again but this one, this one he really can't help, not if it means keeping them both safe, and aziraphale will keep this close to his chest until the end of time. and he will only regret it for a single instance, and that is when he hears crowley's scream as he is thrown into hellfire.) the hellfire doesn't touch him. it can't touch him, because crowley believes it won't. despite being made of the purest anger the universe has ever known, it wraps around aziraphale like a warm embrace, like a gentle smile, like a 'welcome home.' and as crowley sees aziraphale's figure unwavering in the fire, his cry cuts out, and he smiles even as he is drenched, because it worked, just like aziraphale said it would. (and it worked. just like crowley thought it would, aziraphale thinks, as he smiles and sighs a breath of relief that they are finally (finally) safe.)