#gabriel just staring at that statue of himself…

[virtualdespairr]

good omens fandom we are getting jesus in s3 what does it mean

[sagesskies]

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ʀɪᴠᴀʟ (ɪ)

✒ ʙᴜᴍʙʟɪɴɢ ʙᴇᴀꜱᴛ

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ: ᴇxᴘʟɪᴄɪᴛ ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ, ʙʟᴀᴄᴋᴍᴀɪʟɪɴɢ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴇx, ꜱᴇxᴜᴀʟ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ᴀ ᴛᴇᴀᴄʜᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀ ꜱᴛᴜᴅᴇɴᴛ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ, ᴛʀᴇꜱᴘᴀꜱꜱɪɴɢ, ᴛʜᴇꜰᴛ, ᴠᴏʏᴇᴜʀɪꜱᴛɪᴄ ʙᴇʜᴀᴠɪᴏʀ, ɢᴀʙᴇ ɪꜱ ᴀ ʙɪᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴀ ᴄʀᴇᴇᴘ. ɪɴꜰᴏʀᴍ ᴍᴇ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴍɪꜱꜱᴇᴅ ᴀɴʏ!

Yandere Rival, who is used to being second place in everything. It came with being Richard Shepherd's brother, even if the ass didn't even get to go to college, and it sure as fuck was a guarantee with having Raphael as his twin brother. But with Raphael gone, he thought: Hey! At least he'll be at the top now. They won't like him as much as they'd ever like Raphael, the thought would keep him up at night occasionally, but that’d be easy enough to get used to. 

And that was the case for most of second year, where people respected him a bit more and stopped looking at him as just the stupid, brutish brother and now as the stupid, brutish, ‘King’ of the school. There were certainly other, more well liked people, but they didn't have the same control like Gabe did, simple as that. 

Yandere Rival who is able to keep this status till the third year. What was meant to be his year, is now yours. 

“Who even is this guy?” Gabe slams his food tray to the table with the force of the anger building beneath his skin, some of the fries jump off and land on the metal surface, “He's some new kid, and yet-” 

Gabe is interrupted by the sound of laughter, he grips so tightly onto the side of the tray that he thinks that if he held it a bit tighter there'd be dents. 

“Sam,” He takes a deep, shaky breath, “Tell me. Is it from his table?” 

“Uh, I don't think you'd want to know..” 

“Samuel Moss,” Gabe feels the anger inside him weaken from satisfaction when Sam flinches, “You don't want to test me right now. Tell me, right now.”

“..Yeah.”

Gabe strikes his fist against the table, the harsh sting only serving to piss him off further, “Damn it!” People stare, but he can't bring himself to give a single fuck. Besides, Luke is here to glare at them hard enough for them to look away. 

“Apparently, this guy's from the city,” Sam explains, “They're all probably just fascinated ‘cause he's a city boy, they'll move after a week or two.” 

Gabe is still staring at him. He's surrounded by people all around the lunch table, they're all laughing, smiling, having a real laugh. 

Gabe digs his nails into the skin of his palm, ignoring the pain when he draws blood. The humiliation from earlier today during gym class is still there. He can't believe it. Bested in dodgeball by some kid from the city. 

He recalls their brief conversation, and he can feel his face grow hot with anger. 

“Like what you see?”

“What are you? Are you gay or something?” 

“I could ask you the same thing. Maybe you shouldn't stare so much. You're sending the wrong message.”

“You'll be fine bro,” Luke claps him on the back, foolishly oblivious to the irritation in Gabe’s eyes when he whips his head around to scowl at him, “This [Name] guy, I bet he won ‘cause of dumb luck. I mean- he had that loser Todd on his team and that guy has absolutely zero hand-eye coordination.”

“You know the word coordination?” Sam paused, a single inch away from taking a full bite from his sandwich.

“Shut up, asshole,” Luke scoffed. 

Gabriel tunes out their bickering, and focuses back on [Name]. 

He was like Raph in a sense. The two of them shared what seemed to be a natural finesse when it came to communicating and speaking with others, as well as an aura that attracted people to them like moths to a flame. But that was where the similarities ended. 

From what Gabe saw earlier, [Name] was cunning, a bit more quick witted than Raph who, while he was pretty smart, was no match for [Name]. 

[Name] glances at him, and their eyes meet again like they did back in gym, and [Name]’s already present grin seems to widen.

He mouths something, it takes Gabriel a few moments to process what he said before turning red once more, and swiftly turning away.

You're staring. 

Well, he was definitely not. 

Yandere Rival who you clearly don't take seriously, at all. After all, why would you waste energy caring about some dude who was a bit too obsessed with you, when you were too busy with everything else going on in your life? 

Yandere Rival who always felt like you were one-upping him on purpose. Oh, Gabe led the football team into winning against the school’s rivals? Well, [Name] was the MVP in a basketball match against the previous state champions. 

Yandere Rival whose thoughts are consumed by you. You're just so infuriating! You're so cocky, arrogant, and stupidly handsome that it's distracting him even more. There's an unexpected side effect to this, which is Gabe pulling out his dusty sketchbook, and drawing you in various unfortunate situations just to try to vent his anger. 

There's a drawing of you being burned alive. A drawing of you being eaten by crocodiles. A drawing of you getting hit by a semi-truck. A drawing of you… smiling after a match… based off a photo of you he cut out from the school paper… and pasted on his wall. 

The last time Gabe put a pen to paper was before Tommy left. Tommy set him aside, and asked him to make him something he thought he couldn't draw.

Gabe did it, only because Tommy looked jittery, and when he showed it to Tommy, his older brother told him, “Well, see? You can draw it after all.” 

Tommy took that drawing with him when he left, and Gabe never felt like using his sketchbook again after that. 

Now he's the age Tommy was when he left them, and amidst his childhood art is the face of his most hated rival. 

From the slant of [Name]’s nose, to the shape of his lips, to the very length of each individual eyelash, Gabe had somehow captured a scary amount of detail of [Name]’s visage. 

He hates to admit it, but he has been staring at [Name]. But it's not his fault when [Name]’s appearance is just so naturally distracting.. He needed a way to get the image of him out of his head, and he believed that drawing would be a good way to just… eject the guy's face out of his mind. 

So here he is, bent over his desk, sketching out every little piece of [Name] and breathing life into the images of him in pain. Gabe grips the pencil with a tense hand, and drags it across the paper to make the final few strokes… and then, he’s done. 

The pen falls from his hand, and he looks at the image. It’s of [Name] in sportswear nursing a sprained wrist. A realization hits him and he scowls.

“Fuck, not again.” Gabe buries his head in his hands and groans. This was the fourth time. The fourth! The fourth time that he’s drawn [Name] from real life. [Name] had sprained his wrist because of an accident during practice and Gabe saw him outside the school infirmary in the same exact outfit with an icepack on his wrist. 

His heart aches for a moment, and he curses once more. 

No matter how much draws [Name] in pain, he doesn’t feel any better. Not one bit.

There is none of that satisfaction that he had gotten with Raphael. Although the night it happened, there was a hollowness that carved itself inside of him, there was also a side of him that was pleased at the sight of the dirt and blood beneath his fingernails. Proof that he’d done what he needed to. That he’d taken care of his problem like a man, and saw it through.

And while Gabe wasn’t the kind of guy to sit around and.. Ugh, ponder about his feelings, he did have to admit that it was weird hurting [Name] didn’t seem to sit as well with him as it did when he got to beat up whatever dickbag stood in his way. 

If he couldn’t bring himself to use his fists, then maybe he could try to use his brain this time. 

With a deep breath, Gabe picks up his pencil and starts to write. 

How do I ruin [Name]? 

Yandere Rival who tries many things. He makes vast, elaborate (not really) plans that he executes to varying degrees of success. Sometimes he plans to sabotage you during basketball practice. He tries to defame you through his ex who’s part of the school paper. One time he placed laxatives in your water bottle… except it was your teammate’s water bottle. 

The only thing all plans had in common was that they all failed.

Honestly, he starts to lose hope. There's just so many schemes a guy can attempt to pull of before realizing that maybe he's not meant to be an ideas guy, and more of a physically assault and attack kind of guy.

But then…

Yandere Rival who, one day, he's coming out of the showers after practices and racking his brains trying to think of another plan, he hears the sound of your voice as soon as he steps foot into the parking lot. You're in Coach Jones’ car, a hole in the window from when the last year's seniors threw a rock at it, and you're unbuttoning his shirt. He's unzipping your jacket. And…

Yandere Rival who had to restrain himself from charging straight at the car, practically tear the door open, and drag Coach Jones out of the driver's seat and pound his face to an unrecognizable mess with his fist. That disgusting old geezer, Gabe knew something was up with him. And you…! You… Fuck. He's too pissed off to string together a single sentence that could describe what you were making him feel right now. 

Yandere Rival who has shit grades, who can barely focus during class, and is as calm and as patient as a bull in a China shop. But he's not that stupid, okay? Because as much as the rage threatened to swallow him whole, it clicked in his head that he could use this, exploit this little vulnerability of yours. 

[Name] was hooking up with the coach! 

Yandere Rival who tucks himself into bed for the night, but can't sleep. Seriously, he can't get the sight of you in the coach's car out of his head and it's burrowing itself deep inside his mind. It bothers him more than it reasonably should. He didn't question it earlier because it was so shocking, but now that he's had the time to stop and think about it.. 

Why were you in the coach's car to begin with? Surely, if you were gay, you'd at least have the standards to fuck somebody that wasn't, you know, the sleazy coach. Somebody your age, with a better body, and who wasn't a huge pervert.

Yandere Rival who is so busy pondering why that he doesn't get any sleep, and he's occupied by it even when he's watching Sam and Luke beat up the little loser Marty Kaye and steal his camera. The question grows louder, echoing further when he's finally managed to catch you and the coach again. The leaves and branches inside the bush scratching at his letterman jacket, the camera light flashing red as he takes a picture of the two of you at the school parking lot late after school, nobody around except the athletes who are preoccupied with practice, the coach has his nasty lips on yours and he's pawing at you like a desperate animal. The entire time he ignores the way the front of his pants starts to tighten.

Yandere Rival who develops the pictures himself in the school's darkroom, and makes as many copies as he'll need. He makes ten, he takes one and keeps the rest in a shoebox beneath his bed marked with a simple ‘DO NOT OPEN’. Before he goes to bed one night however, he ends up taking one of the photos out of the box and as long as he didn't look at the coach... He would never admit it but you looked fuckin' hot.

When it's just the two of you alone in the locker room after gym class, he corners you after your shower and waves the picture in front of your face with a cocky smirk that grows as your eyes widen and your face grows ashen with dread. 

[Name] tries to snatch the photo from him but Gabe dodges easily, stepping backwards and sticking it in his pants for good measure. An image pops in his head, a desperate [Name] tackling Gabe down to the floor and digging through his pants to get the picture. His hand brushing against his clothed crotch. The thought has his cheeks heating up for some reason.

“Fucking-” [Name] grits his teeth and his hand balls into a fist, “How'd you get that?”

Gabe hikes his pants up, hoping that [Name] can't see that he's blushing, “That doesn't really matter now does it? You should be less worried about how I got the picture, and more about what I'm gonna do with it.” 

That shut [Name] up quite well, the other teen bites his lip before clicking his tongue. He crosses his arms, and has the nerve to let out a scoff, “Huh, okay. Tell me then,” He leans back against the tiled walls, “What's your great plan then? For your sake, I hope it works better than the previous ones.” 

Gabe hates it, but in that moment he can't help but flinch, whatever gravitas surrounding him dissipated, “You knew-”

[Name] barked out a laugh, he throws his head back only for it to come down as he shakes his head and sighs, “I'm not an idiot like you. Jesus Christ, you couldn't be more obvious if you tried.”

The tip of Gabe's ears turned red. This was fucking embarassing, not only did each plan fail spectacularly, but [Name] knew, he didn't do anything to interfere in them, yet they still failed regardless. 

“Whatever,” Gabe clears his throat and avoids making eye contact with [Name], who is now the one sporting an amused expression, “Anyways- Aren't you wondering what I'm gonna make you do?” 

When Gabe was imagining how it would go down in his head, he envisioned [Name] panicked and visibly distressed. Practically sweating buckets as he rambled on about how he would do anything for Gabe, as long as he didn't reveal his secret. 

So far he was getting what he didn't want. Apathy. 

Okay, maybe that's a bit of an exaggeration. [Name] didn't look bored, but he did look irritated, and Gabe was getting the inkling that this was the closest he'd get to an emotional outburst from him. 

“Honestly, Shepherd, no offense but I just don't think you have the mental faculties to come up with anything that isn't extortion,” [Name] pauses for a moment, before his lips curl into a wicked grin, “You do know what the word extortion means, right?” 

“I know what it means!” Gabe has to remind himself that he can't yell, so he settles for hissing out the words between gritted teeth. 

[Name] laughs, “Ha, yeah… sure,” He smirks, “So… was I right?” 

“...” 

Honestly speaking, Gabe hasn't thought much about what he'd do. He was so caught up in figuring out how to use the camera, then how to develop the pictures, then making the copies… that he hasn't really stopped to think about what he'd actually do to [Name] when it came down to it. 

[Name] could probably tell, since he rolled his eyes, “Whatever.” He adjusted the towel around his waist, but before he could actually take another step Gabe grabbed him by his arm. 

“Hey, I didn't say you could leave-”

“Shepherd, unless you wanna see my dong, then I'd strongly suggest you let me put my clothes on.” 

“Oh,” Gabe lets go of him. He can feel his own dong start to harden for some reason and he tries to will it to settle down, to no effect.

“Yeah,” [Name] snorts, he turns around before he can see Gabe's buddy perk up, as he leaves to go change he mutters under his breath, “That's what I thought..” 

The sound of [Name]’s footsteps grow farther, Gabe can eventually hear him open his locker and the faint muffled sound of him digging around for his clothes. 

Gabe slumps back against the wall. He glances at the clock on the wall. 

12:11. 

He'd have the entire lunch period to think of what to do with [Name], if he couldn't right now.

“Fuck,” Gabe mutters under his breath. 

Why didn't he think of what to do last night?  

His cheeks burn red. 

Oh right. 

He was doing… that. 

Gabe drags his fingers across his hair the same way his mother used to when he was young. For some reason, it was always able to settle his mind. Perhaps it was the repetition of the sensation that calmed him. 

Nonetheless, it got the job done. But now all that was left in his mind was the quiet and the quiet was making Gabriel tap his foot against the floor and rub his palms together restlessly. 

“Oi, [L/N],” Gabe finally calls out in the silence, but when he gets no response he immediately straightens. He looks at the clock and curses. 

12:18. 

Gabe walks swiftly to the lockers, trying not to slip, and groans when [Name] isn't there. 

He kicks a locker and ignores the sharp pain that follows. 

“Bastard!”

Yandere Rival who confronts you after school, he waits for you outside the lockers after the basketball team’s practice ends and doesn't waste a moment before he drags you back to his own car; Heedless to your protests. 

He's had the time to think, and he's decided on what he wants you to do. 

“You're gonna be my henchman.”

“...What the hell are you on, Shepherd?”

Yandere Rival who uses you as what we would call a PR manager. You're a tool yes, but a valuable one. 

Yandere Rival who only has what can be called a proud smile on his face when news spreads around school that Gabriel Shepherd and [Name] [L/N] were now ‘best of friends’. Meanwhile the expression on your face can only be described as ‘bitterly resigned to the fate of spending your senior year as Gabe’s fake best friend’. 

Yandere Rival whose reputation grows significantly once he has you in his circle. You're practically his right hand man at this point, and you may as well be. You're certainly better at planning than he is, and you definitely have a better understanding of other people and what makes them tick. 

You come up with many, and I mean many ideas about how he can make people like him more and honestly they work.

Yandere Rival who starts hosting more parties, using the large land that encompasses the non-farm part of his home when his dad is off on a business trip, and hosting parties at either Sam or Luke's when his dad is around. Never yours though, strangely enough. But forget about that. The parties. Oh lord, the parties. Good alcohol, good music, everybody who is anybody at the school is present, and really, you're the one to thank for how well they always go. It makes Gabriel more popular, yes, but it also increases your own popularity, which is an unfortunate side effect. 

Yandere Rival who, for the sake of keeping up the facade that the two of you were the absolute bestest of friends, does his best to attend all your games. Heck, he even has Sam and Luke bring along a banner they made the artsy geeks make to support you and waves it around while practically bellowing out: “Go [Name]!” The entire time. Does he enjoy it? …Maybe. There's a small part of him that has fun going to these games and cheering you on. There's an even smaller part of him that he makes sure to ignore, a part of him that enjoys carrying out all your creative plans not just because they improve his standing, but also because… it's just fun doing them with you. Even if you’re an ass. 

Yandere Rival who pulls off more wild things with you than merely throwing fun parties and sometimes pulling pranks on the teachers. 

The weekend before the big football championship, you and Gabe, accompanied by Sam and Luke, take a trip to two towns away where the school’s biggest rival is located and by nightfall, the four of you break into the building to steal the school’s ‘lucky charm’: The Spirit stick. 

The four of them had climbed over the chain link fence near the track field, Luke catched Sam and Gabe catched [Name]. The air was chilly, and the earth was soaked and muddy from the rain. 

“Let’s go through under the benches, we don’t want to be tracking mud on the floor,” [Name] tugs the hood of his jacket further down his head.

“Alright,” Gabe places a hand over his eyes, clicking his tongue when droplets of rain manage to slip through. 

They make their way to the double door leading inside the school, unfortunately there are chains around the handles of the door and a padlock holding them together.

“Shit,” Luke grunts, “What now?” 

“Should we go back?” Sam turns to Gabe. 

“Nah,” [Name] is already crouching, he pulls a jackknife out from his jacket, “I’ve got this.”

Luke snorts, “Ha. What are you gonna do? Cut the chains?” 

[Name] stares at him blankly, only to pull out each individual part of the jackknife, exposing that it had a lockpick set inside. 

“Ah…” 

[Name] raises a single brow, completely unimpressed, “You were saying?” 

“Whatever man, just get to it.” 

Gabe has done many things since he’s become… ‘friends’ with [Name]. He drank alcohol, did a bit of weed, and snorted some coke. Hell, he nearly hit a deer when the two of them were driving them back from visiting [Name]’s dealer in the next town over. 

Let’s just say that Gabe was a bit (just a bit!) distracted. 

([Name]'s lips, plush and wet, parted slightly with a joint stuck in between, just a bit of tongue exposed between the gap) 

But that was all small stuff. This? This was most definitely a crime. Not like he was going to complain. Nah, he had Sam for that.

“Dude, are you sure we should be doing this?” Sam’s eyes kept flashing back and forth, warily watching, waiting to see if anybody was around to catch them in the act. 

“Aw, you scared Sammy?” Luke cackled, he was leaning against the wall, covering [Name] on his left, “You’ll be fine, your daddy’s the damn chief of police.” 

“Fuck off Luke, don’t be a dick-” 

“Shut it,” Gabe was covering [Name] from view on the right, you can say what you want about Gabe, but you can’t deny that he’s got a good glare, “Both of you.” 

Luke rolls his eyes, yet concedes. 

Sam lowers his head, “Sorry..” 

[Name] glances at Gabe out of the corner of his eye, and Gabe can see there’s a small smile on his face. A silent thank you. 

Gabe scoffs, but he can’t help the smile that creeps on his face. 

The more time he spends with [Name] the more he finds that the guy isn’t as bad as he thought he was. Seriously, sometimes he forgets why he even hated [Name] so much. He was a good guy, all things considered, except for all the drugs, alcohol, and now this. 

Nobody has done something like this for him before, not Sam or Luke, not even any of his brothers. It was strange knowing that somebody was willing to commit an actual crime for his sake. Gabe isn't even sure if they're friends, they shouldn't be, but it was hard to think that considering everything they've been doing together. 

Gabe still can't forget what happened at the last party. Every time he blinked he would remember the sight of [Name] with his wet shirt sticking to his chest, absolutely drenched after diving into the pool on a dare. But that wasn't what mattered. Nah, it was what happened later. It was clear that [Name] was still a bit drunk, and when he went to get a towel, but took longer than he should've to come back Gabe…. got worried. 

He thought [Name] slipped or something, and so he went to look for him, only to find the guy dozing off near the laundry machine below the cabinet the towels were in. 

Gabe tried to wake him up, but instead through a series of events, he ended up bringing [Name] up to Sam's bedroom and tucking him in. He wasn't even allowed to go back downstairs because [Name] would stir and glare at him sleepily every time he even took another step towards the door. 

It was annoying, but… it was good. 

He felt needed. 

Before he could think about it further, the lock opens with a click, and falls to the ground with a weak clang. 

“You actually did it!” Sam gaped, “How the hell do you know this stuff?” 

[Name] smirks, his chest puffed out, “A magician never tells his secrets. Now come on,” He removed the chains and then held the door open, he grinned and gestured for Gabe to enter, “Ladies first.” 

Gabe glared, but merely rolled his eyes. There was no time to waste after all. However, before Gabe could enter Luke grabbed his shoulder. 

“What is it?” Gabe huffed. 

“Dude, our shoes are wet. Use the scraper mat first,” Luke points to it, and demonstrates by using it himself. 

[Name] beams, “Smart. Nice job Luke.”

Luke chuckles, “What can I say? I try.” 

Gabe rolls his eyes, “Wish you could try using your brain more during practice, maybe then we wouldn't be having to do this shit.”

Luke frowns, this was a sore spot for him, Gabe knew that, “Don't be a dick man.” 

Gabe clicks his tongue, “Whatever.” 

He ground his feet on the scraping mat instead of actually, you know, scraping, but it worked. 

The familiar sensation of hot, stuffy anger burning at the center of his chest appeared but Gabe didn't know why. Usually he could pin down what triggered it, what triggered him, but right now he had not a single clue. 

When all of them finished drying their shoes, Sam and [Name] even go so far as to squeeze the remaining water out of their clothes, Luke shuts the door behind them and Gabe takes out two flashlights he bought on one of their fuel stops. 

He tosses one to Luke who catches it easily, and turns it on immediately. After a few failed attempts, Gabe smacks his own against his palm one more time before it finally turns on properly. The two beams of bright light illuminating the hallway and the surrounding lockers. Their walls were lined with green banners, festive posters, and small flags with the school’s name and mascot on it. All in the school colors. Probably the school celebrating their ‘certain victory’. 

“Alright genius, where do we go now?” Gabe turns to [Name]. 

“Well…” [Name] claps his hand, “I guess we’ll find out together!” 

Sam’s eyes practically bulged out of his sockets, “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

[Name] simply pats Gabe on the shoulder, and before Gabe can do or say anything else, he takes the flashlight from Gabe’s fingers with the deftness of a practiced pickpocket, and walks further down the hall and deeper into the school, barely making any noise. 

“He’s not serious is he?” Sam glances at Luke. 

“Don’t look at me man,” Luke shrugs, “Let’s get going before he leaves us behind.” 

The three of them catch up to [Name], though it is only Gabe who matches his pace. The two of them walk beside each other, [Name] flashing the light around, still searching for the Spirit Stick, [Gabe] on the other hand is sticking close to [Name] and not thinking about much else. Really, the only thing on his mind right now is how nice it is to be around the warmth that was radiating off of [Name], how comfortable it felt to just be beside him. 

“So…” [Name] breaks the silence, his voice is low enough that it was clear to Gabe that the conversation was not meant for the four of them, but just for them, [Name] and Gabe, “Are you mad?” 

Gabe’s brow furrows, “Huh?”

“Don’t act like you aren’t,” There’s a trace of a grin on [Name]’s face, but Gabe has come to understand that grinning is merely a reflex for [Name] at this point.

“Why would I be?” Gabe whispers back. 

[Name] opens his mouth but before he could speak Luke speaks up in a volume that Gabe never heard him speak in before, “Pst, guys! How about we split up? 

[Name] looks like he’s about to protest, but Gabe cuts him off, “Alright, let’s meet up here in… twenty minutes?” The four of them were standing at a crossroads, south led the way they came, north was further down to where Gabe assumed the cafeteria would be, and then there was the west and east which Gabe assumed would be where the classrooms were. 

“Yeah, that should be good,” Sam nods, “Luke and I will take west, you guys take east?” 

“Hey wait-” 

“Sure,” Gabe grabs [Name] by his arm and is already dragging him along despite [Name]’s protests, “Let’s investigate the north side if we don’t find the spirit stick.” 

“Aye aye, captain,” Luke playfully salutes him with a goofy grin on his face, before giving them a wave goodbye as he and Sam went down their own hall. 

Gabe and [Name] got farther down the hall before [Name] shook Gabe’s hold off of him with a very heated glare.

“Gabriel,” [Name] hisses, “Why did you do that?” 

Gabe shrugs, “I don’t want those two idiots overhearing our conversation.” 

That was a lie, a big boldfaced lie. Gabe would rather die than admit it, but he felt like Sam and Luke were sort of like… third wheels. Guh. He wished there was a better way to describe it, but Gabe’s limited vocabulary left him with only that term. Additionally, he didn’t like how buddy buddy Luke was getting with [Name]. 

They weren’t meant to be friends. Really, Gabe, Sam, and Luke shouldn’t even be doing this with [Name] at all. Period. But at least Gabe had an excuse, he had an image to maintain. What reason did Luke have? That’s right. Nothing. The oaf was better off sticking with the other oaf.

[Name] rolls his eyes, he focuses the flashlight straight ahead and starts walking, “Why are you such a dick to those two guys?” He glances at Gabe, who was steadily keeping pace with him, “I thought you guys were friends.”

Gabe chuckles, and for the first time he got to see a confused expression on [Name]’s face.

“Oh, you're not joking,” Gabe halts, “Well… we're not. They stick around because I'm the only popular guy they can actually tolerate.” 

And not to mention what happened with Raph. But well, that was just one of the… more important factors. Still, at the end of the day it was just one of the bullet points on the list of reasons why it was good for them to hang out with Gabe. 

“Dang.” 

“Cat got your tongue [Name]?” 

[Name] shrugs, he peeks around the corner and flashes his light down the hall, “Tsk, still nothing…” 

Gabe sighs, he doesn’t appreciate the sudden change of subject much, but fine. He can admit when there were more pressing matters to attend to. The longer he stayed inside the school the more he got creeped out. Since he was young Gabe had a fear of the dark that got better as he grew older, but as the two of them continued to walk down the dark halls, lined with metal lockers, and decorated to show school pride, the more Gabe felt like something was staring at him.

“What’s the Spirit stick even look like?” Gabe doesn’t want to, but he squints into the darkness anyway. 

[Name] glances at him from the corner of his eye, and the half of his face that Gabe can see in the barely illuminated darkness is giving him a very deadpan look, “Your girlfriend literally carries the damn Spirit stick for the pep rallies.” 

“She’s not my fucking girlfriend,” Gabe glares at him, “We just fucked once.” 

[Name] smirks, “Not yet at least. A little birdie told me that she really likes you-”

“[Name],” Gabe stops walking, and stares [Name] down with an expression that, based off [Name]’s flinch and sudden folding in on himself, does exactly what he intends it to, “She’s not. My. Fucking. Girlfriend.” 

He didn’t like to think of her. Not that the sex was bad, really it was decent. Mediocre at worst. Nah, what made it hard to think of her was the memories of what he had to do to win a place beside her in bed. He still can’t look her brother in the eyes sometimes. 

Besides, he didn’t want to talk about her. Not in front of [Name]. For some reason, him talking about Gabe’s sexual escapades just… made him feel weird, when he’d usually be raring to boast about it. 

[Name] rolled his eyes, but his shoulders were noticeably more tense and his grip on the flashlight seemed to grow tighter, “Fine. Whatever. Sorry, I guess.” 

The rest of the walk was spent in utter silence, broken only by Gabe’s occasional request to you to flash the light in a specific direction, before once more being enveloped by the heavy blanket of an awkward silence. 

Eventually the two of you did find the spirit stick. Near the school trophies, right outside the principal’s office, encased inside a glass box, that was unfortunately locked. However, Gabe had you, and you had already displayed an unusual prowess at picking locks and this was no less easy. The two of you meet up with Sam and Luke at the agreed upon time and get the hell out of there as quickly as possible. 

Yandere Rival who, when he gets home, can’t sleep. Seriously. The earlier conversation was still playing in his mind and he just… God, he was so stupid! Why’d he have to snap at you? You were just teasing him like you usually did. Why did this bother him so much? It shouldn’t. Yet it did and- Grah. 

Gabe spends the night tossing and turning in his bed, his mind is restless as the image of [Name]'s hurt expression plays itself over and over. Each time he closes his eyes, he sees him; lips pulled down into a frown, his brows knit in a pitiful expression that has seared itself into his brain like an unwanted tattoo.

He grabs his pillow and buries his face into it and groans.

"I'm such a dumbass," Gabe mutters.

Gabe closes his eyes and tries once more to go to sleep, but when five minutes pass and his mind is showing no sign of settling, he kicks off the blanket, and gets off his bed. He makes sure to keep his footsteps light so nobody can hear him moving around at- Gabe glances at his clock- two in the morning.

He opens his drawer slowly, and pulls out his sketchbook. Flipping through the pages of his childish drawings and his sketches of the man that's keeping him awake, he pauses when he catches sight of his barely legible scrawl.

HOW TO RUIN [NAME]

Gabe can't help but scoff. Technically he did succeed. He had [Name] under his thumb after all, didn't he? But it was undeniable that [Name] was far from ruined, if anything he seemed to be doing even better than before.

He's about to go to another page, when his eyes land on a drawing of [Name] smiling wearing a t-shirt and basketball shorts. Gabe remembers the reference he had for it. He didn't do a live sketch, no, it was all just his memory.

[Name] was hanging out with his friends, carefree and genuinely happy, and Gabe just so happened to be driving by the town's community basketball court where they were playing a game. He simply glanced outside the window, doing a bit of people watching since the road was clear, and the sight of [Name] had him rolling his eyes and he was about to turn away, but then he smiled and he was taken aback by it's brightness.

So taken aback that he stopped driving altogether and was now in the middle of the road, straight up staring at [Name]. He was snapped out of it when a car behind him honked and the driver was waving his fist at him angrily.

Gabe chuckles, it was funny now in retrospect, but it wasn't so funny that it distracted him from how embarrassing the situation still was. He takes a deep breath and exhales, feeling the air release itself in how the tension in his shoulders seem to lessen.

An idea pops into his head as his gaze continues to rest on the drawing. Gabe chews on his bottom lip as he thinks about it, before finally opening his drawer and taking out a pencil. He turns on the table lamp, and guides the pen on the paper to draw the look that's been keeping him awake.

Gabe wonders what [Name] means to him at this point. He didn't hate him anymore, at most he felt a bit irritated when [Name] would tease him. He liked him, but not in the way that he thinks a friend should like a friend. His version of like is a little crackling fireplace in his heart that's keeping it warm. He doesn't know if it's normal, if that's what being friends with somebody felt like for everybody else.

But [Name] wasn't everybody else.

Maybe this was just a special kind of like that only Gabe could feel, and he thinks he's fine with that.

☏ - ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇᴍᴀɪʟ: [ɴᴀᴍᴇ], ɪ… ᴊᴇꜱᴜꜱ ᴄʜʀɪꜱᴛ. ɪ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴍᴇᴀɴᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ɪᴛ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴ. ɪᴛ ᴡᴀꜱ.. ɪ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴏʟ ᴍʏꜱᴇʟꜰ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀꜱᴛᴀɴᴅ ʀɪɢʜᴛ?

[tehloserprince]

I noticed that Beelzebub almost seems a little subdued/thoughtful when they arrive at The Resurrectionist with Gabriel. It makes sense in a way because the previous graveyard scene ended with them staring wistfully at Gabriel while he admired the statue of himself. I've talked about it elsewhere, but the way Shelley Conn was acting in that scene gave me two impressions: first, that Beelzebub longed for Gabriel to look at them like that; and second, that Beelzebub may have been doubting whether or not Gabriel could ever love them - a demon, and the Grand Duke of Hell - since that statue seemed to represent Gabriel's Heavenly duty and devotion.

Anyway. I wonder if Gabriel noticed that Beelzebub had grown a bit quiet - maybe even a little sad - and that contributed to his jukebox miracle? Idk, but I love that he knew that song would make them happy and he wanted to see them smile. The camera's focus isn't on Gabriel in that particular shot, but we can still see this look of quiet excitement as he waits for Beelzebub to notice the song.

Also, I might be hearing things and/or it might be due to other things happening in the scene, but I swear it sounds like Beelzebub buzzes a bit when they say "Is that? Did you?" Specifically, I hear it when Shelley Conn says "Is that?" Maybe it's just me, but it kind of fits in with my own little headcanon that the buzzing occurs more frequently when Beelzebub is emotional (excited, angry, etc.). Idk. Anyone else hearing it? Just me?

[mlbigbang]

2023 General Fic Rec List

It’s the end of the year which means it’s finally time for the ML Big Bang’s yearly fic rec lists! We’re really excited to bring you our contributors’ favourite fics started this year to supply you with plenty of reading material while you’re waiting for the Big Bang fics’ publication in January.

drowning (in plain sight) by @buggachat

Everybody had expected Monarch's defeat to be a moment of triumph. Nobody had expected Gabriel Agreste, unmasked and mind frayed from continual abuse of the miraculous, crying out to all who would listen and making Paris certain of one thing: His son, Adrien Agreste, is one of his sentimonsters. And now he's missing. Nobody can find him— not even the superheroes, and not even his closest friends. But Marinette, Nino, and Alya aren't ones to give up so easily. They'll find him, no matter what it takes. (But, geez, would it kill Chat Noir to lend a hand?)

I think most of the fandom already read this fic, but if you haven't, you should give it a try! The angst is balanced by how deeply Adrien's friends (including Plagg and Felix) care for him, and the reunion at the end is so touching.

all of your flaws and all of my flaws (are laid out one by one) by @coffeebanana

Ladybug and Marinette have both been acting strangely since Monarch's defeat, and Chat Noir would give anything to know why—to be able to help them. He just…didn't expect his answers to come when Ladybug drags him to his father's statue in the middle of the night along with a bag full of spray paint.

An incredibly cathartic scene set after the Season 5 finale that is a perfect mix of angst and hurt and comfort! All the emotions are so raw.

Dreaming Wide Awake by @uptoolateart

Gabriel died a hero. He sacrificed himself in the final battle against Monarch. Or so Adrien's been told. At least he has his mother there to help him through the grief. So what is this niggling feeling that this isn't how the story was meant to go? And why does he keep having flashes of another world that lies just beneath their own?

A fantastic follow-up to the Season 5 finale in which Adrien is dealing with the loss of his father, and his relationship with Marinette, in a reality that's not quite right. Incredibly emotional and moving.

All That Glitters by @trishacollins

After - After the dust settles, and things feel a little bit more...permanent. Nathalie thinks back on her mistakes. With Felix as close at hand as he is, she thinks one of them might be fixable.

Every fic should be a Sentibug fic, and that's why I rec this. I love that it runs with the finale of S5 and addresses various characters' feelings about senti stuff, which is the real big question hanging over the end of the season. Well, one of them :)

The moment I knew (I’d no choice but to love you) by @bbutterflies

“He’s dating me,” Nino said, taking Adrien’s hand in his own. Adrien could only stare back at him in shock. “How dare you all force him to come out?” Nino continued, glaring at the reporters. “That was disgusting.” He pulled Adrien over to the car, guided him in, and shut the door behind them. In the relative quiet and privacy of the backseat, Adrien finally processed what had just happened. “So… when were you going to tell me we were dating?”

It's fake dating, but with Adrino!! What's not to like?

The Parable of the Caller by nemali

A week after Hawk Moth’s identity has been revealed, Adrien finds himself with nowhere to go, nothing he can do, and worst of all, strange gaps in his memory he can’t explain. In a stroke of luck, he stumbles upon a burner phone filled with voicemails from one of the Saviors of Paris: Chat Noir himself, who disappeared following Hawk Moth’s arrest. But with each new voicemail Adrien listens to, he’s forced to confront the fact that there might be some kind of connection between himself and Chat Noir — and discovering it might leave him more broken than before.

It's subversion of so much. Adrien is the ex-Guardian. Adrien has lost his memories. There's been no reveal. He has no idea what this mysterious series of voicemails from Chat Noir means. A+++ read.

A Masked Game by @mysticraven20

For almost ten years Paris has been peaceful. No villains. No heroes. No hate. But, as always, peace never lasts forever and as a new threat takes over the city of love, there’s a change in the game where this time death is permanent. Adrien has been living full of hope after the worst years of his life. He’s free. He’s settled. But most importantly, he’s in love. After years of trying to find his calling everything came together the day he married his wife, or so he thought. Marinette still craved the companionship of her partner. It had been a decade since she’d seen him; the dull ache in her heart constantly asking what had happened to him. If only she had the opportunity to speak to him one more time. The chance for a reconnection appears when Paris’ heroes are needed again and as feelings begin to resurface so does the hate, love and lies. Ladybug and Chat Noir will need to find a new dynamic to make this work, saving not only their friends but also themselves, leaving Adrien and Marinette to risk everything in a need to survive.

Whodunit, murder mystery MLB fic from a great author exploring a new genre/style. Not just exploring, succeeding. Acing it. Wonderful story. As each chapter dropped, it really felt like the entire fandom was racing to read it first. Everyone was hooked. You should get hooked, too!

[kasienda]

A Miraculous Reveal - Rings True

Post Season Five - Angst w/ a very happy ending

Summary: Ladybug hits send on her text to Chat Noir, telling him who Monarch is. She tells Adrien a very different story. Adrien doesn't know what to make of it, but he thinks he deserves the truth. Thanks to @coffeebanana, @wackus-bonkus-maximus, and @nemaliwrites for the beta read. This hits just a bit harder because of your input.

Read on Ao3

A Miraculous Reveal - Rings True

I figured out who Monarch is. He’s Gabriel Agreste. Meet me at the Agreste Mansion . 

Chat Noir stares at the text and then glances up once again at the imposing statue erected in his father’s honor. Because his father apparently sacrificed himself to help Ladybug defeat Monarch. 

He shivers in the winter morning air. 

Both of those realities can’t be true. 

Chat Noir falls to the ground, his father’s oversized form blocking out the sun’s glare. He has no idea what he was feeling, but whatever it was, it wasn’t good. He just sits there, gravel from the pavement digging through his suit, barely aware of the passersby chattering about his unexpected presence. He can’t hear what they’re saying with his heart trying to beat its way out of his chest. His stomach is so sour he thinks he might throw up, and his hands shake hard enough he’s not certain he will keep hold of  his baton.

His father’s gone. 

He wished for this. Adrien wanted the man who wouldn’t let him make his own choices or live his life gone. And him being Monarch made all of that worse somehow. 

How many times had Adrien wished Monarch dead? 

Well, now he was. 

But Ladybug told him to his face, as Adrien, that his father gave up everything so he could be happy. 

Adrien can’t believe it. His father had never cared about Adrien’s happiness. That had never been more clear than when he shipped Adrien off to London to be the poster child alongside Kagami for the Alliance rings or whatever else his father had in mind. 

It’s far, far easier to believe his father had been Monarch. 

But why did Ladybug lie?

He doesn’t have to contemplate the question long. She lands next to him and he scrambles to his feet, his shoulders tense as he turns to her. She asked to meet him this morning, it’s the first time he’s seen her since he failed to show up to fight Monarch. Is she angry with him? She doesn’t look angry, but she doesn’t look happy either.  

She very noticeably does not look at the monument. 

“Can we talk anywhere but here?” Her voice shakes. And it’s amazing how just that small sign of anxiety from her makes his own turmoil abate. 

For the moment, at least. 

He clears his throat. “Lead the way.” His voice sounds like gravel. 

She takes off, and he launches himself in pursuit, not paying any attention to where they’re going. He just follows the flash of red as he always does.

They eventually settle on an ordinary rooftop away from prying eyes. She doesn’t speak. She stares at the blank brick wall in front of them as if it holds all the answers of the universe. 

Every moment of silence eats at him, bringing back the clammy feeling in his neck and the sour churn in his stomach. He can’t stand it. 

“M’lady?”

She glances at him and visibly swallows. 

“Are you okay?”

Her hands grip the edge of the roof and her gaze drops. She shakes her head and her eyes well with tears.

His hand covers hers immediately. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

She leans into his shoulder and his arm comes around her immediately.

She breaks down into tears immediately, and he just holds her as she cries herself out. 

“I wish you were there,” she whispers, and his chest tightens in guilt. “I don’t know that it would have made any difference, but–” her head nuzzles further into his shoulder, “–I would have felt better with you there.” 

“I’m sorry,” he croaks again. He shouldn’t have given into his nightmare. He could have broken out of his father’s prison. It apparently wouldn’t have even mattered that it would have revealed his identity.

Monarch was dead. 

She shakes her head. “You couldn’t have known. I didn’t know either. I was there for another reason entirely.” 

He wants to ask what that reason was, but now that she’s talking, he’s unwilling to interrupt. 

“Discovering his identity was an accident. The miraculized robots were everywhere. They were tracking my active miraculous somehow. I had to detransform. He had me cornered. Thank god you sent Plagg. The tides shifted then! And I had him!”

Her face falls and she buries her eyes in her closed fists. 

“I was so stupid! I thought I could convince him to give it up for Adrien.” 

His throat tightens. It isn’t surprising that his father wouldn’t. But hearing her say it still somehow hurts. 

Adrien had never been enough, not for his father.

He blinks furiously to fend off the unwanted tears.

“So why is there a statue of Monarch in the middle of Paris?” he croaks. “Why did you lie to Adrien?” 

He doesn’t mean for it to be an accusation. He needs to know. 

But she recoils violently. “It wasn’t a lie!” 

He frowns. “But—“

Her face crumples and her body shakes like an earthquake. She breaks down into wracking sobs all over again. “I lost , Chaton. I trusted him. I wanted to be able to heal their relationship. He took all the miraculouses - including the Ladybug and the Black Cat. He made a wish.”

Adrien sucks in a breath. 

“But something I said must have gotten through because he changed his wish. He didn’t wish for his wife to be revived. He joined her in death instead. Then all the miraculouses minus the butterfly were returned to me. Before he did it, he asked me to make sure Adrien remembered him fondly.”

Adrien tastes bile. Seriously? His father wanted Adrien to think well of him? 

“So I only told Adrien the good parts. But I didn’t lie . Gabriel did sacrifice himself for his son’s happiness in the end. He did help me defeat Monarch.”

Adrien’s claws dig into his knee. His father may have said he did it for Adrien, but that’s what he always said. That’s what he said when he wouldn’t let Adrien have a birthday party, or go play music with his friends, what he said when he had forbidden Adrien from being with Marinette and when he had Adrien shipped off to London. 

But none of it was ever actually for Adrien. It never was. 

His father hadn’t needed to make a wish at all. He didn’t have to leave. If he wanted Adrien to be happy, he could have come back and done things differently. “But it’s a lie.”

She shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Doesn’t matter?!” he echoes hotly. “That’s what Gabriel did to his son all the time. Lied to him, made choices for him about what he was allowed to know and do, what Adrien was allowed to feel . He locked him up and sent him away from the people he loved most!”

His heart rises to his throat, his chest heaves up and down. 

Ladybug stares at him, her eyes wide. “How do you know all that?”

He tries to meet her gaze, but he can’t do it. He feels exposed. 

“And now you want Adrien to remember that man fondly?! Want him to think that his pain and frustration and anger are all something he imagined?!”

She cries harder. “But he deserves better than Gabriel,” she sobs. 

Chat Noir took both her shoulders and squeezed them gently. “He deserves the truth. You need to tell him, M’lady.” 

And he’s being ridiculous. He already knows, so what does it matter? 

He just wants her to be the one to tell him.

“But how do I do that?” Her words are barely louder than the wind. Tears slipdown her face. 

“He deserves to know,” he says again.

She leans back into Chat’s chest. “You’re right. I just— I wish he didn’t have to go through all this.” 

“He won’t be alone.” 

He has Marinette, Nino, and Plagg.

He has her .

… 

Ladybug doesn’t show up that night. Or the next. Adrien spends each evening pacing back and forth in front of his stupidly large glass window. He purposely kept his evenings clear - sending Marinette home early and begging Nathalie to let him eat alone in his room. 

He was trying to make it easier for Ladybug to approach him. 

But still, she hasn’t come. He doesn’t understand it. What is she waiting for? Does she not trust him as Chat Noir? Does she think Adrien can’t handle the truth? 

Adrien throws himself backwards onto his bed. Each day he proves more irritable than the last, prone to snapping at everyone around him — even Marinette, who’s the absolutely last person who deserves his ire.

Five excruciating days later, she stands before him, wringing her gloved hands and all the tension that had been building up inside him like water against a dam for days, releases. 

She’s here. She’s going to tell him.

He smiles at her. “What can I do for you, Ladybug?” he asks.

She doesn’t meet his gaze. She’s so worked up, he almost feels bad that he pushed her into this. He could have just volunteered as Chat Noir to talk to Adrien himself. 

“Are you okay?” he asks. 

She laughs darkly, and looks at him. “You should not be asking me that. I just… I have some things that I need to tell you, things I should have told you before. C-can we sit down for this?” 

“Of course!” he says, walking her to the couch. “Can I get you anything?” 

“No, no! I’m fine,” she says. “You should sit too.” 

He sits next to her. She’s vibrating in her seat. Her legs are bouncing, her hands are fidgeting, she looks at him only to look away immediately. 

She bolts to her feet and starts pacing in front of him. His eyes follow her. 

“So umm…” Her hands flail around her. “You know how I told the city that your father helped me defeat Monarch?” The words come out of her in a rush, like she’s afraid if she stops she won’t get them out. 

“Yes?” 

“Well, that wasn’t exactly true. Your father—” she looks at him now. “Well, he was Monarch.” 

And there it is. The words are out. He almost wants to laugh. Instead, he lets out a heavy sigh.

“Are you okay?” she asks, kneeling down in front of him, and taking his hands. 

He smiles again, and nods. “I… okay is not the word, but maybe? Thank you for telling me. It’s relieving in a way.”

“Relieving?” she repeats, her eyebrows arching in disbelief.  

“Yeah, thinking of him as a hero after everything he had done to me… it didn’t feel right, but being angry with the person who helped Ladybug save all of Paris— well, that didn’t feel right either.” 

“I— I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before.”

He squeezes her hand. 

“Why are you letting the whole city believe he was a hero?” he asks. It’s still the one bit that doesn’t make sense. 

She offers him a pained smile. “Because I didn’t want anyone to know you had any association with the villains.”

He frowns. “You don’t need to do—“ 

She shakes her head sharply, cutting him off. “There’s more to it than that. This next part, Adrien. I…” she bites her lower lip. “I haven’t told anyone. Not even my partner.”

Every muscle in his body locks up. 

“This is too sensitive, too personal. I feel like I shouldn’t even know.” 

Her hands tremble, and he shivers.  What could be so awful that it was worth letting all of Paris believe Monarch was a hero?  

Ladybug’s finger taps the rings on his left hand - and he glances down at his parents’ wedding rings. 

“These aren’t ordinary rings. They’re amoks.”

“Amoks?” he repeats. “Like for a sentimonster?”

“Sentibeings,” she corrects. “These are your amoks.” 

Did his father leave sentimonsters running around? Ones that Adrien is now responsible for? How awful was—

Ladybug watches him carefully. She’s biting her lip again, her eyes wide, clearly bracing herself for his reaction. 

He missed the mark. The rings are suddenly all he can see. These are his amoks. 

He hunches forward, his shoulders feeling like lead. He gasps for air that won’t fill his lungs. It feels like the ground has opened up underneath him and swallowed him whole.

Ladybug’s arms wrap around him, she cradles his head against her chest. She strokes his hair like he’s a small child needing to be soothed.

“I’m a… sentimonster.” 

She shakes her head violently. “Senti- being. ” 

He laughs, the sound hysterical and unbelieving even in his own ears. 

“But yes, you were created with the peacock miraculous.” 

He’s a sentimonster. 

His whole life is stored in a pair of rings . 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to tell you this,” Ladybug says, tears slipping over her mask. “I wish you didn’t have to know.” 

His eyes fly up to her face. Ladybug almost didn’t tell him. If Chat Noir hadn’t convinced her, would he have ever known?

Suddenly, he’s furious. “You weren’t going to tell me.” 

“Adrien, I swear I returned the rings to you the second I understood what they were.” 

“What if I had taken them off or given them away?!”

Then her words catch up to him. 

“Wait. You didn’t give me these rings. It was… Marinette?” 

Her eyes flood with tears. It’s confirmation enough. 

He scuttles backward so fast the couch tips over. He shoves himself across the floor further, needing to be away from her. 

“Adrien! Please!” she begs, reaching for him on her knees. 

She’s Marinette. 

He sobs brokenly, shaking his head. “I don’t understand! Why would you keep this from me?! I thought Ladybug, at least, had no idea what my father was like. But you? Marinette! You stood against him time and again. And now you cave to him?! To lie to me?!” 

“I didn’t want to hurt you! I wanted you to be as happy as possible given everything that has happened.” 

He caves in on himself - he cradles his neck, and buries his head between his knees, rocking back and forth. 

“Adrien?” she asks, her hand hovering over his shoulder. He flinches from her, and she backs away. 

“I’m sorry!” she cries. 

“You know, when I read your text the first time, I felt relief . My father was Monarch. That sucked, but it also felt like a puzzle piece had snapped into place. Something that made sense .” 

“What text?” 

“Then you showed up to talk to me, and you fed me a completely different story! My father, a hero?“ he laughs bitterly. 

“Adrien—“

“When I told you that you needed to tell me, I didn’t think it mattered because I already knew. I wanted to hear it from you.”

Her eyes blow open wide and her mouth falls open into a horrified “oh”. 

“Chaton?” she asks, her voice cracking.

“If I hadn’t done that, would you have ever told me?” 

Her cries only intensify and she doesn’t answer him, but for once, he’s unmoved by her tears. He can’t ever remember being so angry with her. 

“You’re just like him.”

The look on her face is pure devastation. He can’t bring himself to care. 

“I’m so sorry,” she sobs. 

“Why didn’t you just use the rings?” 

“What do you mean?” Her voice is so quiet he barely hears her. 

“If you wanted me to be happy, couldn’t you have just ordered me to be happy?”

“Adrien! That’s horrible!” 

“Is it?! How is it any different than what you did?! You told me lies to manipulate my feelings! Made me believe in something that you knew wasn’t true. The rings just would have made it easier.” 

“I would never do that to you!”

“But you did!”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t understand! I never wanted to hurt you. I love you.” 

“That just makes it worse.”

“Adrien, please.” She reaches for him again. And he pulls away. 

“I can’t do this right now.” 

She stares at him, her eyes glassy. “Adrien–”

“Just go!” he shouts. 

And she does. And he’s not entirely certain that he wants her to come back. 

…

She keeps calling him. She calls him so many times that first night he loses track. She leaves him messages almost every time. He listens to every single one the second it comes in. 

She apologizes profusely again and again. She cries until her voice is sandpaper, and then she cries more. She understands why he’s angry and she knows what she did wrong. 

He wants to forgive her. He does. 

But he doesn’t know how.

Two days go by, and he still doesn’t take any of her calls. But he continues to listen to every message. 

His phone rings again, but it’s Alya. 

“Hey, what’s up?” he answers cautiously. 

“How are you doing?” And it’s definitely Alya talking — not Marinette and he relaxes. 

“That depends.” 

“On?”

“Are you asking because you want to know, or because Marinette does?”

“I won’t tell Marinette anything if you don’t want me to, but whatever happened between the two of you, know that she has always loved you.” 

He squeezes his eyes closed. He doesn’t even doubt that. But his parents had loved him too. He twists his amoks around his finger. That hadn’t stopped either of them from controlling and manipulating him. 

“Sometimes love isn’t enough,” he says. 

Alya’s silent for a moment. “You don’t really believe that, do you?” she asks softly.

“I didn’t used to,” he admits. “But now… now, I don’t know where I stand with anyone.” 

“I can only imagine how hard it must be to process everything about your father.” 

“Yeah, everything about my father,” he echoes dully. Alya doesn’t know even half of it— 

“It’s so messed up,” she commiserates. “Especially given who you all turned out to be.” 

Unless she already knows all of it. Because she’s Ladybug’s best friend! 

“How long have you known?” he asks, trying to keep his tone even, but it probably just comes out cold. 

“Known what?”

“That I’m Chat Noir, she’s Ladybug, and my father was fucking Monarch?!”

“Adrien, listen—“

Adrien’s tired of listening. 

“—she had a total meltdown.” 

“She told you before she told me, didn’t she?” 

“Adrien–” 

He’s shaking his head even though she can’t see him. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“Because I thought it should come from her! ” 

“Did she also tell you I’m a sentimonster and she wasn’t going to tell me?!”

“A what?! Adrien!—“

He hangs up. He tries to take solace from the fact that Marinette hadn’t told Alya or Chat Noir about Adrien being a sentimonster. She had some lines she wouldn’t cross at least. 

But it’s not enough. She hadn’t planned on telling him either. 

He twists the rings on his finger. What if he had taken them off? 

It’s the thought he can’t shake.

He calls Nino.

“Hey mec! What’s up?” 

“Tell me you didn’t know.” 

“Know what?” 

“Did Marinette or Alya tell you about me?” 

“Umm… I thought you already knew that Marinette liked you since you guys have been dating.” 

And despite everything Adrien bursts out laughing. Nino definitely didn’t know anything. 

“Dude! What is going on?”

“Can I come over?”

“Anytime, mec!” Nino exclaims enthusiastically! “You never have to ask.”

…

Adrien barely has time to knock before Nino whips the door open and yanks him inside and into a hug. 

Adrien lets himself relax. Nino didn’t know anything. Nino never lied to him. If anything, Nino was stupidly forthcoming about his own secrets. 

He can trust Nino. 

Which gives him an idea. A terrible idea. 

“Dude! How’ve you been holding up?” 

Adrien shrugs. Before he can overthink it, he slips both of his amoks off his finger and presses them into Nino’s hands. 

“Put these on,” he says.

Nino looks at the rings. “Are these wedding rings?” Nino asks. 

“Technically, yes.”

“You proposing, mec? You could at least buy me dinner first.” 

Adrien doesn’t laugh. “Just put them on. I want to try something. I’ll explain after.” 

Nino slips the rings on without any hesitation. “Okay. Now what?” 

Because Nino trusts him. 

“Tell me to do something weird.” 

“Weird like what?”

“I don’t know, something I wouldn’t normally do.” 

Nino pulls out his phone and puts on a dance remix. “Alright dude. Dance like you’ve never danced before.” 

Adrien throws himself into the moves, rolls with the music Nino’s music, he tells himself. It doesn’t feel like a compulsion. It feels like he wants to do it - almost like it’s his own idea. But he can’t stop either. And he wants to cry. 

How many times had he tried to stand up to his father only to immediately fold once standing before him?

Even his maman! How many times had she sweet talked him into cooperating? She had always said he was an easy child. All he had ever wanted was to make them proud. Was any of it him? 

Nino stops the music.

“Dude! You’re crying.” 

He is, and yet, he’s still dancing. Another sob tears from his throat. 

He’s not human. He’s a sentimonster, a puppet on strings, a plaything for his parents’ amusement.

“Stop it! What’s wrong?” Nino asks, putting a hand on his shoulder. 

Adrien’s limbs still, and he falls to his knees, sobbing.

Nino is on the ground right next to him an instant later. “Talk to me, please.”

Adrien knows with that command, he can technically talk about anything, but he had come here to talk about one thing in particular.

“I’m a sentimonster,” he gasps. “I’ve been a sentimonster my whole life. Those,” he points to the rings on Nino’s pinky and ring finger, “are my amoks.” 

Nino’s expression falls off his face. Then he tears the rings off his hands and slams them up against Adrien’s chest. 

“Why would you ever give these to me?! Why would you give them to anyone?!”

“I just… wanted to know how they worked, what it felt like. I didn’t think you would use them if you knew.”

“Damn right, I wouldn’t!” Nino roared, his chest visibly heaving. “Please don’t put me in that position again!”

Adrien nods. “I’m sorry.”

“What the hell is going on? What do you mean you’re a sentimonster? They haven’t been around that long. Are you some kind of copy of my best friend?” 

Adrien shakes his head. “I’m the original, one and only, Adrien Agreste. My father had the butterfly and the peacock since before I was born, and apparently for some reason —“ that Adrien hadn’t had time to even think about, let alone figure out. “—they raised a sentimonster instead of having a child using more natural methods.” 

“Wait! Your father had the butterfly?! But that means—“

“He was Monarch,” Adrien says before Nino can. 

“But Ladybug said—“

“Yeah well, Ladybug doesn’t have the best relationship with the truth,” he says bitterly. “She’s just like my father.” 

Nino looks more shocked by that than anything else Adrien has said. 

“What?” Adrien asks, unable to interpret Nino’s silence. 

“Dude!” Nino exclaims like that explains everything. “You’ve always been Ladybug’s biggest fan!” 

“That was before she tried to lie to me about my father! She wasn’t even going to tell me about being a sentimonster! She gave me back these rings without saying anything! What if I had lost one or taken them off? Or gave her one when I proposed?!”

“When you proposed?” Nino echoes. “To Ladybug?” 

Adrien thunks his head against the wall. He hadn’t lasted twenty-four hours with her identity. She’s going to kill him.

“Can we pretend I didn’t say that?” 

Nino’s head cocks to the side. “Marinette is Ladybug. Huh.” 

“That doesn’t surprise you?” 

“That’s definitely the least surprising thing you’ve said today. Not surprising at all really,” Nino says. “Okay, so we’re pissed at Maribug—“

“Cute.” 

“—because she didn’t tell you about your father being an even worse dick than we already knew. And she didn’t tell you were a sentimonster. But then, how did you find out?” 

“She told me.” 

“But—“

Adrien sighs. He’s already screwed as it is. “She told me as Chat Noir.”

Nino is silent again. “You’re Chat Noir.” 

“Yup.” 

“And your dad was Monarch.” 

“Unfortunately.” 

“Mec! That’s so messed up.” 

“Tell me about it.” 

“So Maribug told Adrien the same thing she told the city?”

“Yeah, that he died a hero helping her defeat Monarch.” 

“Gross,” Nino says. “Why would she want you to remember him with rose colored glasses?” 

“I don’t know!” 

“Do you think she killed him?” 

Adrien freezes. The thought had never occurred to him because it’s incomprehensible. “No. There’s no way.” 

“And she told Chat Noir - not knowing that she was talking to you - that you’re a sentimonster?” 

“No, she only told Chat Noir that my father was Monarch.”

Nino hums. 

“Just say it,” Adrien says. 

“Well, I get that you’re pissed. I think I am too on your behalf. But I don’t think Marinette is anything like your father.” 

“Go on.” Adrien wants to forgive her. He just needed a way to get there in his own head. 

“The difference is Marinette did tell you.” 

“She wasn’t going to. I had to talk her into it.” 

Nino nods. “ Exactly. She wasn’t going to, and then you explained your perspective and she changed her mind. She recognized that she was wrong, that you were right and she did what Marinette always does. She tried to fix it. Your dad would have only doubled down.” 

“Or tried to akumatize someone over it,” Adrien adds darkly. 

“Dude! He’s akumatized like every single one of your friends.” 

His father hadn't wanted him to have any friends. Had his father ever seen him as a real person? 

“Nino, do you still care about me knowing that I’m not real?” 

“What the fuck kinda question is that? One, yes! I care about you more than almost anyone on this planet. And two, you are most definitely real .” 

Adrien’s crying again, but Nino quickly seizes him in a hug. Adrien buries himself in Nino’s solid embrace, and he knows he’s going to be okay even if he’s not there yet. 

…

It’s been four days since he shouted at Marinette to get out of his room. 

She’s still calling him, and he covets every message, as a sign that she loves him despite what he is, that she hasn’t given up on him, or on them. He listens to them the second they show up, though he still hasn’t been able to bring himself to respond, though he thinks he might be getting close. He did send a message through Alya that he just wants some space and he’ll let her know when he’s ready to talk.

Most of her messages are similar in nature. She apologizes over and over, tells him that she loves him, and that she’ll do anything to make it up to him. She just doesn’t know what that is. 

He thought that he might feel vindicated or something hearing her so small and contrite, but he doesn’t. He feels awful because as much as he was hurt, he doesn’t want her to hurt either. 

He loves her. 

Then her last two messages were drastically different in content. 

“I learned that you were a Senti from Felix.” Her voice is subdued, like she’s narrating from a script. “He and Kagami are both sentis as well. They asked Ladybug for help.” 

Figured that Felix told Ladybug without even telling him .

“I’m not sure they want anyone to know that, but I guess… even if you—“ her voice cracks and his chest clenches at the pain in her voice. “—even if you can’t forgive me, I-I just wanted you to know you’re not alone.”

She’s openly sobbing now. “I love you.” 

The message abruptly ends.

The second message that day comes in hours later. 

“I got Kagami to bully Felix into letting me talk to Dusuu!” Her voice is so different from the previous call. She sounds excited. She sounds like Ladybug with an idea. “The original amoks didn’t have a mind control feature. That was something the Guardians added at the same time they added it to the miraculouses to be able to control the Kwamis. If they added it, there’s gotta be a way to take it away, right?” 

“I have a plan to free you all from your amoks. But there’s a hiccup. We’ll need the butterfly so I can give you the power to see your spiritual connection to the ring so you can cataclysm only the part that can control you. I know it’s dangerous. And we don’t have to do it if you’re not comfortable, and we don’t have the butterfly right now anyway—“ 

Adrien smiles as Marinette rambles on. How had he never realized Ladybug and Marinette were the same? They think out loud in the exact same way. 

Even though he asked for space, even though he wasn’t talking to her, even though she wasn’t certain they were going to remain a couple, she was still fighting for him. 

He transforms immediately and lands just outside the bakery. He’s not sure if she’s even home, but he hopes that she is. 

He takes the stairs two at a time. He hesitates before knocking. And before he can bridge the gap, the door flies open of its own accord. 

Marinette drops her purse and stares at him. Her eyes are red and her usually neat pigtails are half falling out and completely uneven. She’s still in her pajamas though she had thrown a coat and a scarf over them. 

She has never looked more beautiful. 

He offers her a wobbly smile. “I’m sorry. You’re on your way out. I can— I can come back.” He starts to turn around. 

She grabs his wrist. “No! Please don’t go.” Her voice is hoarse, and faint, like she’s afraid if she’s too loud he’ll bolt. “Wh-what do you wan— I mean, need? What do you need?” 

He eyes her grip on his wrist, and she instantly lets go, and suddenly can’t meet his eyes. 

“Can we talk?” he asks. 

She nods. Her eyes are downcast, her shoulders are hunched in, and her arms are wrapped around her stomach. She’s been tearing herself up for all the days he didn’t speak to her. 

“Hey,” he says softly. “Can you look at me?” 

She does, but her eyes water immediately, and he yanks her into his arms.

“It’s going to be okay,” he assures. 

She falls to pieces in his arms. He rocks her harder, kisses her hair, and continues to hold her. 

“I’m so sorry,” she sobs. 

“It’s… o—“ he cuts himself off before he can say it’s okay. Nino told him that was the one sentence he wasn’t allowed to say. “It’s going to be okay,” he says again. 

She shakes her head. “No, I’m awful. I don’t know what I was thinking! You’re right to be so angry. You’re right to hate me!” 

He laughs, and then cups either side of her face. Her blue eyes fill with tears and he aches for her. “M’lady, I could never ever hate you. I was hurt.” 

“Of course you were!” 

“And I needed some space.” 

She nods against his hands. 

“But I’ve been thinking, and Nino made me realize that I actually should be thanking you.” 

“Thanking me?! For what?!”

“Because you told me.” 

“But I wasn’t going to. Not until you convinced me to.” 

“But then you did. You listened to me, and you trusted me as Chat Noir, and then you told me as Adrien. And I’m glad that I know now. I needed to know. No one else was ever going to tell me. And so, I’m really glad I have you, that you respected me enough to tell me this hard truth about my own life. My parents didn’t tell me. Nathalie never did, though she had to have known. And I don’t think she ever would have. Even Felix, and apparently Kagami, didn’t tell me though you think they’d get it better than anyone.”

“But I should have told you right away. I never should have lied.” 

He shrugs. “Yeah, that’s true, but we all make mistakes. And when you realized you were wrong, you tried to fix it.” He held up his phone. “And you’re still trying to fix it. Even though it’s hard, even though I didn’t take it well. You still told me the truth when no one else did. And I just— I love you.”

He presses his forehead to hers. “Even when you make mistakes, even when you really piss me off, even when you’re not perfect, I love you. And I don’t think that will ever not be the case. Thank you for telling me, thank you for giving me some space to figure stuff out on my own, and if you’ll still have me, may I still be yours?”

“If I’ll still have you?” she repeats, aghast. “Shouldn’t it be if you’ll still have me?”

He shrugs again. “I’ve already said I still want to be your partner in every sense of the word, but I’ve had time to think about it while you were sending me message after message that you loved me. Even though I’m not even human.” 

Her face contorts into pure rage. “Adrien Agreste! You are the most beautiful human being I have ever met in my life! You are kind. You give people second chances. You are persistent, and brave, and you have the dorkiest sense of humor. You drive me absolutely insane both with and without a mask, and I am so stupidly in love with you, I will absolutely still have you! And if you think—“

He cuts her off with a kiss. He’s going to spend the rest of his life with this girl if he has anything to say about it. 

[the-delta-42]

The Truth 1

The Truth

[1 The Truth] [2 Soul] [3 Through a Shattered Mirror] [4 Healing]

Marinette took a deep breath. Adrien deserved to know the truth, about her identity and how his father, who is now being hailed as a hero, was Monarch, the man who terrorised Paris for the past couple of years. Adrien stared down at her, his eyes soft and loving. Marinette hoped he didn’t hate her.

“Adrien?” Murmured Marinette, glancing up at him, “I need to tell you something.”

“What is it?” Adrien murmured back.

“I…” Marinette’s mind went blank, “can’t remember.”

Adrien winced, “I hate it when that happens, you know what your gonna say and then to flies out of your mind.”

Marinette hummed, quietly pondering on what she was going to say.

TT

Ladybug looked down at Adrien, he was staring up at his father’s statue, with a troubled look on his face.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Asked Ladybug, making Adrien look up at her.

“I’m thinking about my father,” Confessed Adrien, “He gave his life to defeat Monarch, and he’s a hero for it, but all the stuff he did to me and my friends. How he hurt me and was unnecessarily cruel to my friend. He hated my girlfriend because she made me happy. I, I wanted him to be Monarch, j-just so I could feel justified in why I hated him so much.”

“I,” Ladybug paused, “I never knew you felt that way.”

“Yeah, well,” Scoffed Adrien, “He’s a hero now, everyone loves him. No matter how horrible he was or how bad he made others feel.”

Ladybug felt her mouth and voice move on their own accord, “I’m sure he was just doing his best, Adrien.”

Adrien scowled and scoffed again, “No offence, Ladybug, but you didn’t know him, you didn’t live with him, you didn’t have to work for him, and you didn’t have to try to reach out to him every day and get rejected.”

Adrien spun around and stalked off, as Ladybug gnawed at her bottom lip.

TT

Ladybug gnawed on her bottom lip, she’d asked Chat Noir to meet her, she’d made sure to specify that she wanted to see Chat Noir only, much to the rest of the team’s consternation. Since Monarch had been defeated and Gabriel’s statue had gone up, she’d tried to tell Adrien who his father really was, but every time she tried, the words wouldn’t need her mouth.

“Okay, LB, what’s the news?” Said Chat, making Ladybug jump.

“How many time do I have to tell you not to do that?” Gasped Ladybug, before straightening up, “Never mind, I have a problem.”

“Is it boy trouble? I promise not to cataclysm him too hard.” Rattled off Chat Noir, getting a sigh from Ladybug.

“It’s to do with Monarch’s identity.” Said Ladybug, not hearing the team all gasp underneath her.

“Oh, really?” Questioned Chat, “Who was he?”

“Gabrilllll- Gabb- for fuck’s sake, the guy who dressed like a candy cane before being bleached.” Spat Ladybug, internally cursing whatever was going on with her.

“Gabriel Agreste?” Asked Chat, slowly, “I’m sorry, M’Lady, but I thought he helped defeat Monarch?”

“In a roundabout way,” Dismissed Ladybug, “I can’t remember how, but he got the Miraculous, made the wish and then, nothing, I don’t know what changed, but he seemingly wished himself out of existence.”

Chat Noir swallowed, “W-why didn’t you tell Adrien this?”

“I’ve tried,” Sighed Ladybug, “that’s the problem, every time I try and tell him, my mind goes blank, and I keep forgetting what I’m trying to tell him. Then my mouth suddenly gets a mind of its own and tells him ‘Your father was a hero, he helped defeat Monarch’. It’s like my brain’s trying to erase that he was Monarch!”

“What?” Ladybug and Chat whirled around and spotted Carapace, “Adrien’s dad was Monarch?”

Ladybug groaned, before pinching the bridge of her nose, “Okay, okay, who else decided my instruction of ‘Chat Noir Only’ was a suggestion?”

Slowly, each and every member of the team crawled out from their hiding places. Ladybug groaned again.

“Yeah, I know, we didn’t listen to you and you’re not mad, just disappointed.” Said Rena, “However, in our defence-”

“Rena, be quiet.” Said Ryuko, walking up to Ladybug, “Ladybug, look at me.”

Ladybug slowly looked up and everyone jerked back, Ladybug had blood running from her eyes and nose.

“What?” Asked Ladybug, before her eyes rolled back into her head.

“Oh shit.” Swore Rena, rushing forwards, helping Ryuko lower Ladybug to the floor, “What the hell?”

Chat shook himself out of his stupor and knelt down next to Ladybug, “What just happened?”

“Ladybug said Adrien’s dad was Monarch, before she started bleeding from the eyes and nose and then she collapsed.” Said Pegasus, getting everyone’s attention.

“I think he meant that metaphorically.” Suggested Purple Tigress, as Rena frowned.

“I’m going to have to remove the earrings.” Stated Rena, “Hopefully, Tikki can tell us what’s wrong.”

Rena went to grab the earrings, before hesitating. She frowned, before looking over at the rest of the heroes, “Argos, I need your coat.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t have a blanket to hide her identity!”

Argos grumbled as he shed his coat and held it out to Rena.

Rena took it and carefully adjusted it over Ladybug, before reaching under it and pulling the earrings off. Chat stared at Ladybug’s shoes, they looked familiar to him, before Ladybug suddenly started convulsing.

“Oh fuck!” Yelped Rena, attempting to restrain Ladybug with Ryuko, “Now what?!”

“Stop restraining her!” Yelled Pigella, rushing forwards, “You’re at risk of harming her!”

Shoving the two out of the way, Pigella went to remove the coat, Rena opened her mouth, but a glare from Pigella silenced her.

“I’m sorry.” Whispered Pigella, before pulling the coat off Ladybug and rolling her onto her side.

Marinette suddenly expelled blood from her mouth, everyone except Argos, Ryuko and Rena froze. Pigella shook her head and looked at them, “We need to get her to a hospital.”

“How?” Asked Ryuko, “we can’t just charge in there and say ‘Hey this unconscious and bleeding girl is Ladybug, we don’t know what’s wrong with her!’ can we?”

Chat shook his head and looked away, before rushing over and grabbing the earrings form Rena and jammed them onto his ears.

“What are you doing?” Demanded Rena, as Chat flicked the earrings.

“Tikki might be able to help.” Said Chat, as the Kwami appeared.

“What?” Said Tikki, “Where’s…?”

She spotted Marinette, “Marinette!”

“Tikki, can you tell us what’s happening to her?” Asked Chat, quickly catching her attention.

“It’s a side effect of witnessing a reality changing wish, she tried to reveal what happened in the old world and now it’s trying to kill her.” Answered Tikki, “It was a stipulation Monarch made when he made his wish.”

“Is there any way to reverse it?” Demanded Rena, from Marinette’s side.

“The Celestial Guardian might.” Said Tikki, getting a frown from Chat, he didn’t particularly like him very much.

“They trained me to succeed Su Han-” Started Viperion, before someone snorted.

“You were trained because you were a loose end,” Said a man, appearing with a shimmer, “You are simply a soldier, not a commander.”

“Li.” Chided a woman, appearing, “At ease.”

The man scoffed, before jumping down, “Move aside.”

Ryuko reached for her sword, before the woman spoke up, “Li has a blood connection with the girl. He can help in ways the Grand Master cannot.”

Li crouched next to Marinette, ushering Pigella and Rena out of the way. He sliced into his hand, and started muttering under his breath.

Viperion scowled, before Marinette coughed up some more blood, with some red markings appearing on her. Li frowned, before resuming his muttering. Marinette coughed again, the red markings vanishing.

“She should be healed enough to go to a healer without anyone asking too many questions.” Said Li, after he was finished, “They’ll likely say that she’s exhausted, but she’ll be fine.”

Rena nodded, grabbed Marinette, with Ryuko helping her and jumped off the roof. The rest of the team stood in silence as the Guardians left, with Li casting a sharp glare at Viperion.

T

Marinette coughed blood into the paper bowl the doctors had given her.

“She’s incredibly lucky.” Said one to her mother, “if she’d ingested any more, you’d be making funeral arrangements.”

Sabine glanced at Marinette, before looking at the doctor.

“That being said,” they continued, “it may also be down to the fact the glass wasn’t ground fine enough.”

“Why didn’t anyone notice?” Asked Sabine, making the doctor look at her.

“Ground up glass looks a lot like sugar when ground up.” Said the doctor, “Does she had sugar in anything?”

“Practically everything she eats or drinks.” Said Sabine, frowning.

“Has she had any reaction to anything she’s eaten?”

“No, she’s hasn’t.”

“How about drinking?”

Sabine froze, “She threw away a coffee she got, she said it hurt her tongue.”

“Where did she get it from?” Asked the doctor, frowning.

“A coffee shop near her school, Petunia’s.”

The doctor didn’t move, before looking down at his notes, “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Marinette spat some more blood into her bowl, “Maman, am I going to die?”

Sabine sat next to Marinette and gently wrapped an arm around her, “I don’t think so, the doctors don’t seem to be too concerned.”

The door opened, with the doctor re-entering the room, “Right, I’ve contacted the police, we’ve had a number of other patients with similar symptoms. They’ll want to talk to you.”

“Is she going to be alright?” Asked Sabine, getting the Doctor’s attention.

“She’ll be fine.” Assured the Doctor, “Fortunately, the blood’s mostly coming from her tongue, but her fainting is down to another issue. Does your daughter suffer from insomnia?”

“I don’t think so.” Answered Sabine, “But she does drink a lot of coffee at home.”

The doctor sighed, “I’m going to suggest you put her on a caffeine hold and see what happens from there.” They handed Sabine a prescription, “These are a mild sleep medication, she should take one after a meal. I’m going to see about discharging your daughter.”

Sabine watched after the doctor as they walked out, before looking at Marinette, who, for some reason, had stuck four cotton balls in her mouth.

“Habe bhe beebin stobed?”

T

“Don’t be bemused, it’s just news,” Said Nadja on the television, “Petunia’s, a local coffee shop, has been closed by police after it was discovered they were giving some of their customers ground up glass in their coffee.”

Marinette stopped with a cheese puff half-way to her mouth.

“The owner of Petunia’s has not been arrested, but had declined to comment.”

Marinette shrugged, before going back the spell book, pausing when she saw a particular spell.

[drconstellation]

Gabriel as a Shoulder Angel: S2 Study

Part 3: Ep.6 Every Day

We are on the last leg of our study of Gabriel as a shoulder angel. He tends to be a left-side angle, but he also likes to take the center spot light at times, which should not be so surprising. Let's see what happens in Ep.6

Jim the assistant book seller keeps to the left-side, as usual, as he helps Aziraphale prepare the bookshop against the demons gathered outside.

Even when he is in the background, Jim is still over Aziraphale's left shoulder.

Jim doesn't take part in the fighting, but has a good view of the action.

He's still hovering in the back-left as they retreat to safety upstairs.

As Shax taunts Aziraphale about going native on Earth, Jim is sent off to his room to get him out of the way. He can't do anything else to help at this point, and may actually be a hindrance.

I've gathered all the relevant screenshots of Gabriel's trial together, rather than treat them in appearance order, just to make things flow a little more smoothly.

While the archangels have their meeting, they are shown projected to four corners of the room. For us as the viewer, though, Gabriel is still positioned on the left-side. So is Saraqael at the start, you might note.

Nah, I'm still demonically-sided.

Even the appearance of the Metatron isn't going to change which side he appears on - he's still the most demon-aligned of them all. You should not be surprised at all by this point. But Saraqael, in her position as "executioner" for the Metatron, has moved the Metatron;s right-side.

Hmm, so he was prepared to be turned into a demon for real, but Metatron and Uriel nixed that idea, and they were merely going to demote him to Scrivener, 38th class. Interesting...

Once he makes good his escape and solitary way into the elevator to Earth, he is on nobody's side. - until he gets inside the book shop.

Once Crowley returns from Heaven with the other archangels, and the demons from Hell appear, we find Crowley, Aziraphale and Jim standing in an arrangement we've seen before, with Crowley on the far right, and Jim on the far left, the opposite of what we might expect. On a larger scale, which can't be seen in this shot, thought, Jim is standing in the middle of the gathering.

Jim approached Beelzebub from their angel-side.

Then takes center stage again as he re-integrates his memories.

Oh, hello! We are now in Gabriel's memories. This is the first time we see Gabriel meeting again with Beelzebub after the fiasco at Tadfield and he is on the angelic right-hand side.

But the next time they meet to negotiate he is on the left-side again. Last time Beelzbub had called the meeting, but this time Gabriel had arranged it, and has a proposal to make - no Armageddon, no war. It's a deal.

It's a date at the cemetery in Edinburgh. Gabriel is admiring himself. Can he get any closer to center stage? Can Beelzebub look at two Gabriels at once?

Beelzebub agrees it is a good likeness, as they stand on the right of screen.

"Sometimes I come here for hours and just...look at it."

If I could find the GIF I would have 1827 Crowley saying "Probably comes here to stare at it. Marveling at his own beauty." That's why Gabriel is slightly to the left here.

There is actually a three-set parallel here, starting from Before the Beginning, with Crowley uttering "You're gorgeous" and Aziraphale giving him a jealous look, then then a similar thing happening as they appraise Gabriel's statue in 1827, then this sequence in the present with Gabriel and Beelzebub - only Beez looks bored to me, not jealous!

Then Beez says "lets go to the pub," leaving the Supreme Archangel gazing at himself... (This is one of the small Aziraphale parallels Beelzebub has in S2, to match with the larger Crowley/Gabriel parallels that are going on.)

They order food and drink together

This is one of the few times we see money exchanged in S2, so Gabriel is doing it right.

Ooh, Gabriel! You're being wicked, miracling all the records in the jukebox to the same thing, just to please your demon!

Once they have their order for goblets of intoxicating liquor, and a packet of crisps, they sit down together, order restored, to talk further.

Back in the present, a restored left-sided Gabriel acknowledges Aziraphale.

And remembers Saraqael - with a bit of help.

Then the right-sided Supreme Archangel turns to find his demon counterpart on the other side of the room.

Gabriel crosses his hands over his heart as he sees Beelzebub, copying the patterns on his vest - the OXO pattern the creator put in to mimic angel wings and halos.

But Gabriel soon switches back to the left-side. If we haven't already mentioned it here, Beelzebub sometimes acts as an Aziraphale parallel, so they need to stand on the right angelic-side, and Gabriel being the Crowley parallel needs to stand on the left demonic-side. Makes sense now, doesn't it?

And off they go in that order, together, into the universe.

We've come to end of the four-part series on how Gabriel appears in scene blocking in S1 and S2. The idea was to look at how often he appears on the left-hand side of the blocking, and how infrequently on the left as a righteous angel. In S2 he spends a just as much time in the center as he does on the left, even hogging the limelight on occasions.

This series moves on with a two-part meta looking at how Gabriel and Crowley are both parallels and foils to each other in Season 2, and by understanding that Gabriel tends to end up on the left in the scene blocking as a demon helps us understand that sometimes he's also standing where Crowley once did - or could. Either way, it gives us a better understanding to both these complex characters.

This meta is part of a series on Gabriel:

Gabriel as a Shoulder Angel: S1 Study

S2 Study Part 1: Ep.1 The Arrival and Ep. 2 The Clue

S2 Study Part 2: Ep.3 I Know Where I'm Going and Ep. 5 The Ball

First Order Archangels Part 1: Maybe You'll See An Archangel

First Order Archangels Part 2: Foils of War

[hollowistheworld]

Flies

Day 2 of IBWeek 2023, hosted by @the-bureaucracts-are-everything

Also on AO3

They’re admiring Gabriel’s statue again, and that’s how Beelzebub knows they’re absolutely fucked. It shouldn’t have been endearing, watching Gabriel stare lovingly at a statue of himself. But unfortunately for Beelzebub, Gabriel was no longer capable of doing anything that wasn’t endearing. Everything was their song miracled onto the jukebox, Gabriel buying them human consumables so they wouldn’t draw too much attention, Gabriel letting his gifted fly out of its matchbox just to smile at it and listen to the buzz of its wings. 

Beelzebub had decided they didn’t care about the fraternizing, didn’t even care about pretending to come up for a reason for it, but this… They looked up at Gabriel’s statue, at the massive cross, the memories of the days of robes and ceremonies.

“How were we both more and less formal back then?” Beelzebub asks.  

"Hmm? Oh. I…” 

And Beelzebub misses the next bit of Gabriel’s blustering, because they’d looked over just in time to see Gabriel look up at the statue - meaning he hadn’t been looking at it all along. It had looked, instead, for just a moment, like he’d been looking at Beelzebub. 

And Beelzebub isn’t quite ready to think about all the implications of that, so they tune back in just in time to catch Gabriel saying, “I don’t miss the robes though. Suits suit me far better.” He chuckles and repeats, “Suits suit me better. That’s good. Didn’t even mean to.” 

Beelzebub, with barely any attempt at restraint, smiles. He is funny. Not that obnoxious excuse for funny that one usually gets with angels, where they pretend they don’t realize they’re rubbing the Fall in their demonic audience’s faces. Actually funny. And genuine. 

And… sweet. Gabriel is sweet, which would have been an unimaginable description of him a few years ago. But back then Gabriel had been more of an idea than another living being. Just Beelzebub’s counterpart Upstairs, the one they’d butted heads against a few times over the millennia, the one they'd be squaring off against once the War finally got rolling.

Now Beelzebub would rather take a massive demotion and spend the rest of their eternal existence in the worst of Hell’s pits than play that particular story out. 

Because they’re fucked. Because they’re standing here in a graveyard, looking at a statue of the Supreme Archangel Gabriel while standing next to the actual Supreme Archangel Gabriel, because there’s nowhere else they’d rather be than wherever Gabriel feels like being. Fuck that, there’s nowhere else they even like being anymore. 

“Are there any statues of you out there?” Gabriel asks. 

Beelzebub shrugs, and makes an effort to not preen too obviously at being asked. “None that bear such a good likeness. Mortals like to emphasize the horns and scales and things when they make representations of demons. They are meant to be afraid of us after all.” 

Gabriel looks down at them with a sort of frown. He has an odd way of frowning, Beelzebub has noticed, as though he’s trying to convince you he’s smiling at the same time. Probably wasn’t really allowed to frown in Heaven, same as you could never look too happy in Hell. “Right,” he says. “Demonic attributes. You have more than just the flies?” 

…Right. They’ve only ever met up on Earth, where boils on the skin or rotting teeth might cause a panic. “Plenty more. I’m the Grand Duke of Hell. I can’t look mortal. We aren’t like you lot, where we can brag about being made in God’s image.” They sneer a little, but with far less bite than there’d been the first few times they’d had conversations like this. It all feels so natural now. They're not so different, at the end of it all. Not in ways that matter. 

Gabriel turns his back on his statue. “May I see?” 

Beelzebub stares at him. “…Why?” 

“That’s what you really look like, isn’t it? I’d like to see your real face.” 

They’re doing it again. Taking a step they aren’t supposed to, heading toward another place they won’t be able to come back from. The first had been when they’d simply agreed they’d meet again soon, no pretext provided, and the steps have been coming faster and faster ever since. This is the most dangerous thing Beelzebub has done since the original rebellion, all those thousands of years ago. But unlike then, when Beelzebub had looked up at God’s place above them and braced themself for the brutal consequences they knew were coming, there’s no real fear. Just the awareness that they’re about to do something just as reckless and dangerous as the Fall had been. 

Beelzebub is pretty sure this fall is going to be worth it. 

They’re still caught off guard every time they move closer to it though. This isn’t what demons do. This isn’t what angels do. But when Crowley and his angel had canceled Armageddon, they’d messed up a lot more than just the Great Plan. 

It occurs to Beelzebub they may have to come up with some reason to cut Crowley loose and take him off hell’s shit list. They have enough decency to at least recognize when they owe someone, and it would seem they owe Crowley a lot. 

“Alright,” Beelzebub agrees, and Gabriel smiles. 

It’s been a long time since they’ve been on Earth without disguises. Humans aren’t so easy to terrorize or impress as they used to be, and even Hell’s Grand Duke has to deal with an obnoxious amount of paperwork to get a new body if the old one gets burned at the stake or stoned to death. Beelzebub takes off their hat and twists their neck, stretches their shoulders, feels the pop in the back of their ribs. Their flies begin to buzz. They can see when the noise reaches the world - Gabriel tips his head and smiles wider.

The night grows a little darker, the air thicker. Beelzebub feels their skin shift and snap, the left side of their mouth pulling up, their teeth sharpening and elongating and filling up their mouth. Flies crawl over their tongue and out of their mouth, burst out of freshly formed pustules on their skin. 

And then they’re fully demonic; surrounded by flies, their skin rotting off in patches, boils sprawling across their face. They’ve even exposed their wings - a rare thing to bother with, but if they’re showing off, they’re going to do it all the way. 

Beelzebub’s wings have changed over the years, no longer the soft feathers God had once given them all. Now they’re stretched thin, transparent, like feathers made of fly wings. Beelzebub unfurls them, lets them catch the light Gabriel summoned and throw twisted shadows on the surrounding tombstones. 

This is one of those things a demon shouldn’t be doing. It’s been a good few centuries since you could just wander around with all the evidence of your crimes against God on your face for anyone to see. They put regulations in for this. To intentionally not pass yourself off as a human was to declare yourself to have bad intentions, and that meant any nearby angels had free reign to slam down with all the holy power they could muster. 

And here’s Lord Beelzebub themself, in front of Supreme Archangel Gabriel, making sure there’s no question about exactly what they are. And not only is there no fear, Beelzebub doesn’t even feel the need to be challenging about it. They feel no need to brace themself, to meet Gabriel’s eyes and dare him to turn away in disgust. 

And Gabriel doesn’t. His eyes are glowing violet and his own wings blur into existence, and the two of them are spotlighted, their wings catching and throwing the light at each other. The rest of Earth seems to have disappeared and it’s just them now, in all of existence. 

Gabriel reaches out one hand and flies swirl around his wrist as he cups his palm against Beelzebub’s cheek, his thumb running gently along a patch of rot. “You’re stunning,” he says softly. 

And it isn’t… Beelzebub has never been insecure about their appearance. They’re intimidating and horrifying and know how to put on a disguise (which is more than can be said for at least half of their people) and that’s what being a demon is all about. They’re proud, if anything. And they certainly aren’t wondering about humans or angels finding them attractive. 

But once, a long, long time ago, Beelzebub was an angel. They had once crowded at God’s feet and shouted with delight as the universe formed around them. That had been stunning. Beings who had been present at the birth of everything didn’t use words like stunning and awe-inspiring lightly. 

They lean into Gabriel’s touch, feeling a smile on their mouth they hadn’t thought about making. It’s like a small miracle in its own right, how often that happens around Gabriel. As though a smile is the expression that belongs on their face, not a snarl or the slack-jaw of boredom. 

“You’re rather nice on the eyes yourself,” Beelzebub returns. “I like purple.” 

Gabriel’s smile gets a little smugger and Beelzebub laughs. Gabriel’s free hand falls to their shoulder and his fingers slip into the tangle of their hair. “Your laugh is the most beautiful sound in the universe,” he says. 

Beelzebub remembers the singing of the morning stars, remembers how lovely God’s voice had sounded, back in the beginning, before everything had gone - quite literally - to Hell. Remembers sounds so beautiful you could cry at the way they filled you up. 

And not one of those sounds compares to Gabriel’s voice right now. “I could stay like this for eternity,” Beelzebub says, voice quiet, carried up by the buzzing of their flies. 

“Me too,” Gabriel replies, and he bends forward, touching their foreheads together. 

It isn’t eternity, in the end, because they don’t have that luxury. It isn’t even hours, because these meetings are crowded into their already busy schedules, around complaints and demands and paperwork and battles that just don’t feel worth fighting any longer. They drop their disguises back into place and the night feels grayer for it. They squeeze each other’s hands and hold on longer than is necessary, even as they pull away. 

“See you soon,” Gabriel says, stepping away like it pains him. 

“As soon as possible,” Beelzebub returns. 

It won’t be soon enough. It never is anymore. 

[dorminchu]

shore leave

a/n: I don't think I've ever written for these two before, but I find their dynamic super cute, albeit bittersweet. Smut below the cut.

By the time Porco Galliard was made a Warrior, Pieck had already been on the front-lines for years. Back when they were teenagers, the toll of her repeated transformations was easier to dismiss. Pieck wasn't lame, it simply took a while to get used to walking upright after weeks and weeks of being confined. She was perfectly capable of walking, she'd say, but the crutches made it easier. Her own body was a little slow to obey her, compared to the immediate and fluid power of her Titan.

She was staying in a spare room at the HQ. Crutches propped up in arm's reach. Porco couldn't think of a recent memory in which he'd seen her without them. At twenty three, the black tresses of her hair were turning silver. There would come a day when her body would fail her, and another younger Warrior would take her place and he'd only have the glimmer of Pieck Finger, a trick of the light. While she wasn't foolish enough to deny it, or push herself beyond her capabilities like Leonhardt, she wasn't interested in pity.

"Aren't you interested in the festival?" she asked.

"No," Porco said. "It's not my idea of fun. Hoover went with the cadets."

She simpered. "I don't want you to feel obligated to stay."

"That's not it." She wouldn't look at him directly. He turned towards her. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to be."

They stared at one another for a moment, Porco gauging her reaction. The ambivalence of her expression softening. There was a glimmer to her grey eyes he couldn't place, but he found himself compelled to sit on the bed beside her. "I'd like to go," she said. "But not everyone is as understanding of my condition as a Warrior. It's easier to feel useful, when I'm in the Titan. Back home, I'm just another child of the Devil." Her hand settled over the back of his. "Would you come with me, if I asked you to?"

"Of course," he said, frowning. "But why didn't you before?"

Pieck's shoulders lifted. "It's been years since I thought about it." She leant slowly into his shoulder. "I can't even remember the last time I thought about it. Probably when Marcel was alive. But he was busy looking after you."

Porco scanned the room for a change of subject. "Where'd you get these?" A pair of wood carvings in the shape of the Armoured and Warhammer, rested on the desk beside her.

"Colt's brother," she said, eyes closed. "He won them in a shooting game. They were supposed to be for Gabrielle, but she wasn't interested."

Porco wasn't surprised. Gabi was more interested in competing with her fellow Warriors than making friends, when she wasn't chasing the status of her cousin's inheritance. It was all sport, to her. She'd just as well show up Falco as a marksman.

"You're going grey," she muttered, "did you know?"

"So are you."

She huffed. "I suppose we'll be old and decrepit by the time this war is over."

Porco chuckled.

"You look tired," Pieck touched his face, suddenly stern. "Have you been sleeping?"

Porco pressed a kiss inside her wrist. "I'd rather be with you."

Pulling her into an embrace, the warmth and the weight of her body draped across him as he allowed himself to fall back onto the bed. Pieck buried her face into his neck with a hum, trailing soft kisses under his jawline to his carotoid artery.

She was in the process of sucking a bruise into his throat. "Quit that," he panted, not nearly as displeased as he ought to be. Pieck murmured an apology, pressing a softer kiss there. Scraping teeth. "Pieck," he hissed, grabbing her shoulder and squeezing. 

"Do you want me to stop?"

With an irritated sigh, Porco let go of her. "That wasn't what I meant," he muttered, shifting uncomfortably. "You've only been back a week."

"I see," she muttered. Her breath washed over his collarbone as she nestled closer. "You can give me a mark if you like."

He exhaled. "Pieck..."

"Hm?" He wet his lips, averting his eyes from the her mouth. The room was stuffier than it had seemed a moment ago. She reposed herself over him, cupping his face. "Pock," she murmured, close enough to kiss if he leant into it. "What's wrong?"

He rankled for the sake of rankling. The childhood nickname was an old sticking point. "I've missed you," he said, running his hands over her waist. "I've missed you terribly."

"Yes," she intoned, "I can tell." She pressed herself closer. Porco swallowed dryly. The only people around were Vice-Commander Grice and Commander Magrath. The curtains swayed in the breeze. No wonder it was so humid in here. 

He gently pushed her off of him and stood up, closed the window firmly. When he turned back Pieck was looking at him with a wistfulness he hadn't yet seen in a while.

Without a word, he pressed her onto the bed. A fist in her thick black hair, bracing the small of her back. She sucked on his tongue. He stopped only to strip himself naked, then helped her do the same. He rucked the waistband of her dress over her thighs, tugging her underwear down as she raised her hips. 

Kissing the side of her throat, shoulder. Scars like little ley-lines, convening at the base of her spine and her nape. It had gotten noticeable in recent years. Unlike Porco, she could grow out her hair to hide the scar tissue. He wasn't as far along and she'd be long gone by the time he was. He cupped her breasts, making a slow trail down her body. As he dropped to his knees she gave a little oh and opened her legs. Palming her thighs wider, he buried his face in her lap without thinking twice. Pressing her to the bed, lapping steadily. He wasn't practised, but she'd never seemed to mind.

"Porco," she shuddered, running her hands over his head, "come up to me."

She was getting close, not quite there. He pressed her shaking thighs back onto the bed and looked up. She snickered. "What?" he panted, almost indignant.

"You're in no state to be in polite company," she breathed, "but I like you better this way." With a scoff, he wiped his face on the sheet. Crawling over to her, she took hold of him. He gasped before he could stop himself. The back of his neck tingled as she pressed her thumb to his weeping cock. "Want me to return the favor?" she mumbled. 

Porco groaned, kissing her cheek. "Later," he said. The last thing he wanted was to make a fool of himself and come too fast.

She pecked him on the mouth. Palm to his chest, coaxing him to sit up. Manuvering herself onto her hands and knees, she glanced back at him and said, "You haven't tired me out yet." Her eyes lidded. She looked as weary as he did, but her eyes glinted the way they only ever did when they were alone.

A soft blush evident on her cheeks and below. Porco, kissing up her spine, swept her hair over her shoulder to press a soft bite into her skin. He swiped his hand between her legs, greasing himself, and said, "Can you be discreet?"

Biting her lip, she nodded. He positioned himself behind her, winding her hair around his fist and pressing inside. She grunted, hands curled to fists in the sheets. Porco grabbed her waist and kept pushing and pushing until he was sheathed. A shaky burst of breath escaped her. She licked her trembling lips and panted, "Can you?" 

Each time he sank into her, she’d hiss and grip the sheets. She wasn't that loud, but anyone on the other side of the door would be privy. Hooking an arm under her stomach, he pressed his hand between her trembling legs. A stream of quiet ohs and yeses ebbing into ragged breathing with the frantic slap of his hips against her ass. Even as she let herself slump to the bed, he pressed his lips to her shoulder, stifling a whimper as his rhythm turned sloppy, shallower. 

Pieck simply bit the back of her hand, spasming, taking him with her.

When his head was clear, he pulled out of her with a chaste kiss to her neck. Wiping himself off, she was feeling around for the washbasin.

"Thank you," she said. He looked up at her. Hair spilling over her breasts. Still flushed.

His ears were a little hot. He grinned half-heartedly and muttered, "Of course."

She was looking at him still, irrespective of nudity. A silent battle raged within her eyes, but Porco wasn't privy to the cause. Her eyes averted, and they redressed in silence.

"Will you be coming back?" she asked.

He smiled. "If you'd like it."

She scoffed. "Pock."

"Again with that," he muttered, walking over to the window and opening it again.

The dull thud of her footsteps came closer. When he turned around she was standing at arm's length.

"We can't leave at once," she whispered. "It'll look suspicious." Porco swallowed dryly. She took a step towards him and said, "How long can you stay?" 

"I thought you were tired."

Pieck sighed. "Yes, very." 

"Go to sleep then."

Pieck hummed. "OK." She let her weight droop against his chest. He grabbed her by the shoulders so she didn't fall. 

"You're such a kid," he muttered. "Come on."

She'd kept her grip on the crutches, permitting him to walk her back to the bed, tuck her in. "Stay with me? Just until I fall asleep," she mumbled, eyes fluttering. 

Porco exhaled. "OK," he muttered, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Only if you'll go the hell to sleep."

[crisalidaseason]

Just a little thing because I wanted to do this prompt so much but I am full of student's work to grade :(

Day 4: Arguments

CW: fear of losing a loved one, arguing, they -of course- make up in the end.

"Alright, then I'll go back to hell" Beelzebub was fuming.

Gabriel was flabbergasted, how could they say something like that?

"Then I'll return to heaven!"

Beelzebub's stare was enough to make the angel regret the words.

"No, you won't"

Gabriel wouldn't but the angel would never admit until Beelzebub admitted they would also not return to hell.

"I sure will" the angel said.

"This is stupid, all of this" Beelzebub huffed.

"I have matters on earth" the angel tried again.

"What about me? I also matter!" the demon's voice was getting louder.

"Of course! You are very important to me" the angel said "but am I important to you?"

"YES! I risked my neck falling for you"

"So did I!" the angel opened his arms.

"Then why do you want to return to earth of all places?" beelzebub tried to calm themselves.

"Because I'll miss looking at the statue" the angel revealed.

If Beelzebub was angry before, they almost -almost- incinerated that stupid angel right there. They sighed, pinching the bridge of their nose.

"This entire drama is about the statue?"

The angel nodded.

"You want to return because of a stone version of you?"

"Yes, stone gabriel will be sad. I didn't say goodbye"

The demon wanted to remain angry, but it was a little difficult when the angel was sad over a piece of carved stone. It was so obvious that Gabriel, archangel with something stuck up in the ass 24/7 and a slight vanity issue, would mourn the loss of marveling at a statue.

"Alright angel, not happening" Beelzebub said.

"You already said that before, are we going to talk in circles? Because-"

"Shhhh" the demon stopped him "not happening because YOU are not returning to earth"

The angel was the reflection of confusion.

"Ah…"

"I will be going there and steal it" the demon said "You stay right here, far far away from earth or any other stupid place that could lead to heaven"

Gabriel felt regret at his early words.

"I would never return…to heaven, I mean"

The lord of flies shook their head, slightly smilling.

"I know angel" they said "neither would I return to hell even if satan himself gave me his position"

The demon came closer, putting a hand on the angel's right shoulder and kissing Gabriel's cheek. When Beelzebub turned to gaze at the angel's purple eyes, they continued.

"I am…afraid they will be there. Just waiting to take you from me"

Gabriel's chest was tight.

"I can't let that happen" they concluded.

The angel understood, he also feared heaven would take him and erase Beelzebub from his memories. He had not thought so deeply about the dangers of Heaven and Hell still wanting them for punishment, and how the angel understood that it was a reality that could easily happen.

"Then you are also not going" the angel said "the stone me will understand"

[sariahsue]

Let Me Count the Ways

Chapter Fourteen - Missed You

[Ch 1] [Ch 2] [Ch 3] [Ch 4] [Ch 5] [Ch 6] [Ch 7] [Ch 8] [Ch 9] [Ch 10] [Ch 11] [Ch 12] [Ch 13]

Sunday mornings were some of Adrien's favorites, mostly because it meant he could easily slip out of the house. Try as hard as he might, Gabriel Agreste could only bully so many tutors and photographers to work early on a Sunday, so Adrien's schedule was usually free and the house was often quiet. No one was looking as Chat Noir stretched to his full height on Adrien's windowsill and cleared the mansion's high fence in once graceful leap.

Morning runs were a common thing for him, but today there was a bit more purpose behind it. The Ladyblog was reporting that Ladybug was out. And okay, he saw her a lot, but he missed her. How could he pass up an opportunity to "bump into her"?

In only a few minutes, he strolled through the park toward their statue. Ladybug sat there, staring at their stone faces, tapping her lips and lost in thought. His steps stuttered to a halt at the sight. Images bubbled up in his mind. His fingers at her lips, tracing their shape, only to replace them with his mouth.

He shook himself and kept moving.

"Ladybug! Fancy bumping into you here!" he called when he was close enough.

She jumped, and her eyes found him, only to flick back to the statue of him immediately.

Something was wrong. She grinned at the statue like it would answer her, her hands stiffly in her lap, her face tinged pink.

"Oh, Chat Noir!" she answered belatedly. "I kissed– MISSED you! How have you been?"

Chat Noir moved into her line of sight and she glanced away again. "Fine," he said. They'd only been separated for 10 hours and he'd been sleeping most of the time, and she probably knew that. The question made no sense.

Plus, why was she out here already? Everyone knew Ladybug wasn't a morning person, and they'd been out late last night. Had she been feeling lonely and unwanted at home? What about her friends? Had they told her they'd all found better things to do than spend time with her today?

Movement in the corner caught his attention, and he turned to watch the skyline. Branches swayed in the breeze, but nothing else seemed out of place.

"Good," Ladybug said. "That's good. I'm glad." She gave him a thumbs up while staring at a spot just next to his head.

"I wanted to ask you before, but when are we planning on meeting next time?" Truly, it had slipped his mind after he'd made an awkward fool of himself last night. But if she was feeling unwanted, then he wanted to give her something to look forward to. He would always want to spend time with her, even if it wasn't the way she wanted to spend time with him.

Ladybug's pink-dusted cheeks darkened at his question. "I hadn't actually thought that far ahead."

He laughed. "You? Not have a plan?"

"What was that?" Ladybug sat up straight, scanning the area in front of her.

He thought he saw something too, another flicker of movement like before. Closer this time. "I don't know." Everything seemed normal now.

"A big bird?" Ladybug asked, sitting back.

"Probably. Hey," he said, hoping to regain her attention. "Why don't you pick? Name a time and a place, and I'll be there."

Ladybug shyly caught his eye with half a smile. "Okay, sounds perfect."

"I think you mean purr-fect." 

"No, I definitely didn't."

Behind their statue, a building disappeared. And then the screams started.

---

Tag list: @clawsout83 @trippingovermyfeet @tbehartoo @yoonjae20 @random-cartoon-fangirl @jasvalka 

[superbsaturn]

Like Real People Do [Ineffable Bureaucracy] (2/2)

Summary: Gabriel and Beelzebub had run into one another a handful of times over the last 6,000 years that they had been the lead representative of their respective domains. However, when they begin to meet outside of the usual context of-- well --war, an interesting development in their relationship begins to take place that they attempt to understand and navigate together.

In other words:

5 + 1: 5 times Gabriel and Beelzebub meet in canon (extended), and 1 time they meet away from the viewers' eyes.

The title of this fic and its chapters come from the song "Like Real People Do" by Hozier (honestly, my favorite Hozier song).

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49341112/chapters/124825396#workskin

Link to Part 1: https://www.tumblr.com/superbsaturn/725602324982153216/like-real-people-do-ineffable-bureaucracy-12

-

6/6: Like Real People Do

1 Year Ago; Gabriel Statue : Edinburgh, Scotland/The Resurrectionists Pub - 3 Years After Armagedidn’t

The graveyard in Edinburgh, Scotland was eerily silent, save for the occasional gust of wind and the shuffle of an angel and a demon who stood side by side observing the statue of the Archangel Gabriel before them. Beelzebub, although happy to be spending time with Gabriel again, was rather confused as to why of all places Gabriel brought them here. While they found it rather strange to stare at the statue of the angel that was standing beside them they weren’t going to complain– well, at least not aloud. 

“Let there be light.”

As soon as the words left Gabriel a beam of light shined directly onto the statue, highlighting all of the engraved creases and cracks that the sculptor conveyed within the art form. Gabriel was the first to announce his astonishment at the beauty of the piece. Well, Beelzebub wasn’t truly astonished at all, it was just another sculpture to them, but they couldn’t deny that it was amusing to see Gabriel so fascinated by himself. 

“I think the sculptor really caught something. The shape of the head.” Gabriel lifted his hands just enough to emphasize his point. “Beautiful. Really moving.”

Beelzebub glanced at Gabriel for a second, nodding as they said, “It’s a very good likeness.” They couldn’t deny that, it was nearly spot on in structure and detail, well minus the clothing and hair. 

Gabriel smiled. “Sometimes I come here for hours and just… look at it,” he said, his eyes locked onto the structure before them, not even realizing Beelzebub had turned their head to look at him. For a second they were a bit saddened at the look he gave the statue. A part of them wished he’d look at them like that. They turned back to glance around the statue, no longer wanting to look directly at it. They didn’t want Gabriel to see their expression and question it, but they also couldn’t bring themselves to look at the sculptor again. 

“Right,” they started, looking at Gabriel over their shoulder, “Shall we go to the pub?” They turned their back to Gabriel and began walking towards the exit of the graveyard. 

Gabriel hadn’t moved when they did, wanting to prolong his stay for only a few seconds longer, but when he turned to look at Gabriel and realized they were a few feet ahead of him he jogged up to Beelzebub. He chuckled as he did so, walking in step with them. “That eager to get away from my statue, huh?” Gabriel teased.

They scoffed. “What do I need the statue for when you’re right here with me? If I was that desperate to admire you I’d just have us schedule another one of our meetings. No need to stare at a marble figure.” Though Beelzebub was only saying this to get Gabriel back for his little joke, they weren’t entirely lying either. They do enjoy admiring him up close and what better way to do that than getting to spend an hour or so with him here and there and complain about everything Hell is doing wrong. 

Gabriel cleared his throat, feeling the corporal body that he corporated in heat up, a bit of pink covering the span of his neck and inching up to his cheeks. He was rather grateful for how dark it was outside. He looked over to Beelzebub as they walked past the gate of the graveyard and smiled softly. He couldn’t deny the fact that these meetings were slowly becoming his favorite activities to look forward to. Even though each time they’d separate they’d agree there was no plan to meet again in the future, this was their first meeting in which no agenda was set. It was just a meeting between the Supreme Archangel and the Prince of Hell to sit and chat, catching up like mortal friends would. It was the first time he can say that he understood where Aziraphale was coming from when it came to spending time with that demon Crowley. Having this sort of connection was truly something worthwhile as selfish as it may be, Gabriel couldn’t say he really cared. 

By the time he was finished with his train of thought, they were directly across the street from the pub, The Resurrectionist. They crossed the street arriving at the entrance of the pub. Gabriel stepped forward and opened the door, gesturing to Beelzebub to go ahead, bowing his head with a soft smile. He followed behind them and approached the bartop with Beelzebub, getting the attention of– what Gabriel assumed was –the owner. 

“How can I help you folks?” the owner asked, offering Gabriel and Beelzebub a pleasant smile. Beelzebub leaned their elbows against the counter, their hands folded under their chin as they let Gabriel take the lead. 

“Two goblets of your intoxicating liquor, please. And, uh…” he trailed on, turning to Beelzebub and outstretching a hand towards them to see if they wanted anything more. For a second it took them by surprise. They were only getting the beer to ensure they could stay in the establishment without being kicked out for loitering so for Gabriel to ask if they’d like anything else knowing they didn’t need anything to eat or drink genuinely took them by surprise. They thought it was rather sweet in fact. 

 They leaned up from leaning on their hands. “A packet of crisps,” they answered, turning to Gabriel, giving him a look as if to ask if that was the right thing to say. Gabriel offered a look of acknowledgment in return and pointed back at the bartender. 

“Very good, sir,” the owner replied in his thick Scottish accent. “Which liquor would that be?” he asked while handing Beelzebub their snack across the counter. 

Gabriel looked bewildered for a second, looking at Beelzebub– who looked up at him fondly –with a confused glance before answering his question. “Whichever one it is you humans usually orally consume.”

The bartender, although a bit confused, nodded. “Two pints of regular, then,” he said and turned around to get their drinks ready. Beelzebub left the counter and went to find them both a seat in the corner, leaving Gabriel to get the drink himself.

While the owner poured their drinks Gabriel looked around spotting the machine that was currently playing music behind him. He observed it for a minute, taking in its appearance and watching as the human standing in front of it picked a song. “What’s that?” he asked the bartender who looked up to see what Gabriel was talking about. 

“A classic 1960s jukebox. You don’t see many of them these days. You just put your money in and tell it what you want to hear,” the owner said, placing the drinks on the table.

Gabriel shook his head in amazement. “Huh… You people. Amazing,” he said, pulling out the amount of money needed to pay for the drinks and handing it over with a wide smile. He glanced back over his shoulder and waved his fingers in the jukebox’s direction. Instantly the song changed to ‘Everyday’, the song that the bartender in America so kindly informed him the name of. He took the two glasses of beer with a small “Ha!” to the bartender who looked bewildered at the sudden change in much. Despite the man in front of the jukebox attempting to change the tune, the machine wouldn’t budge. 

 Gabriel walked towards the table that Beelzebub had chosen to occupy, placing the two glasses down on the table. “Here you go,” he said before occupying the space beside Beelzebub, scooting just a bit closer to them. “You don’t actually have to consume it,” he whispered to them, gesturing to the drinks on the table.

“Oh.”

“And the…” Gabriel questioned, hovering his hand over the snack and looking at Beelzebub with a curious expression.

“Oh, packet of crisps? Good,” they replied which only made Gabriel offer them a slight look of repulsion. He could never imagine eating or drinking anything when he needn’t do so, which made it all the more special that he offered Beelzebub to order more needlessly. 

For a few seconds, they sat in comfortable silence, getting themselves situated where they sat before the music that played over the speakers caught Beelzebub’s attention. They furrowed their brows, their eyes darting around the pub before they looked up at Gabriel with a genuine look of surprise. “Is that… Did you…” they asked their expression one of pure and utter disbelief at the– not so small, small –gesture. 

Gabriel shrugged a bit with a grin on his face. “A small miracle,” he admitted, gesturing with his fingers at how minuscule the miracle actually was. 

“Oh,” Beelzebub sighed in amazement, the small act making them utterly flustered. After Gabriel’s comment about not performing small miracles on trivial matters during their billiards game, this was the last thing they had ever expected him to miracle.

For Gabriel the miracle had been a small, kind gesture that meant practically nothing, …but for Beelzebub, it meant everything and more. 

So, Gabriel went on to explain himself. “That jukebox will always be there on that jukebox…” Beelzebub acknowledged the statement with a small hum as he continued. “...to comfort the afflicted.”

Beelzebub, at a complete loss for words, hummed and gave a firm nod in reply, looking off to the side with a wide smile that Gabriel could not help but match. “I should give you something,” Beelzebub said, leaning towards Gabriel as they did so. Gabriel gave them a look of confusion, not having expected to receive anything in return which made Beelzebub’s non-existent heart flutter at the knowledge that he hadn’t been anticipating something in return for his sweet gesture. 

The two of them kept eye contact for a few prolonged seconds before Beelzebub placed their hand on the table opening up their closed fist to reveal a fly against their pointer finger. “Here,” they said, “It’s for you.” 

Gabriel leaned forward and observed the fly in Beelzebub’s hand. He placed his own next to their’s and lined up his own finger to their’s allowing the fly to jump from their hand to his. “You’ll never know when you’ll need it,” they said. Gabriel allowed his finger to linger longer than necessary against theirs, nudging them to prolong the contact as long as he could without it being too obvious as to why. 

“It’s a container, so… it’s bigger on the inside. You can put things in it,” they explained, moving their hand away to reach for a matchbox on the table. They gave Gabriel a wide smile before dumping out the matches onto the table so that only the empty box remained. 

Gabriel took the box from them and began to place the fly in it, safely and securely. Beelzebub waved their finger at it, saying a small “bye-bye” with a soft chuckle. The fly buzzed as it made its way into the box. Gabriel closed the box and raised it to his ear hearing the faint buzz of the fly inside while Beelzebub observed him, a tender smile on their face. 

“I don’t actually know what to say,” Gabriel admitted as he turned to look at Beelzebub, placing the matchbox into the inside pocket of his coat close to his heart. For a minute they were at a loss for words. The warmth that Gabriel held in his expression made them metaphorically melt. His eyes were filled with such appreciation and dare they say, love. 

“Why not?” 

He shrugged, looking at them as if the answer was obvious. “No one’s ever given me anything before.”

Beelzebub sat there stunned for a moment. The Supreme Archangel of Heaven never received a single praise or gift of gratitude. Perhaps Heaven was not as kind to their angels as Beelzebub once suspected it had been. The knowledge of that made their, once again, non-existent heartache for Gabriel. To them, he deserved the world and more, though they weren't quite ready to admit that. They sighed softly, their shoulders dropping as if the weight of the world had been lifted off of them, and for them, it felt like it had. Sitting here with Gabriel, in this very moment, made them feel so light. They were at peace for the first time in 6,000 long years. 

The angel and the demon shared a few glances between one another before they settled back comfortably into their seats and relaxed, enjoying the silence that their company provided as their song continued to play over the speakers. There was no need to admit what they were feeling because they both knew deep down what it was and admitting it aloud was like comparing it to a kiss from God and a temptation from Satan. It was a beautiful feeling they had to admit, but to say the idea of it wasn’t also terrifying. 

They were genuinely captivated by one another and it was the best feeling they had ever experienced. That was a fact neither of them could deny, but to admit it meant to forsake their sides and that alone was horribly daunting. 

However, now was not a time when they were willing to dwell on worries for the future. Living in the moment felt so much more freeing, which is why Gabriel urged himself to build up enough courage to take Beelzebub’s hand under the table. He scolded himself internally, he’s the Fucking Archangel Gabriel and yet he was scared to hold Beelzebub’s hand he felt utterly pathetic. So it was made worse when he slightly grazed his fingers against their hand and caught them by surprise, turning their head to look at him in a quick, sharp movement that made Gabriel hesitate. He began to take his hand back and cursed himself for misreading the situation. Beelzebub quickly realized their mistake and reached back for his hand, taking it firmly and offering him a small smile to ease Gabriel’s worry. 

Both the Duke of Hell and the Supreme Archangel could feel the warmth radiate off themselves. Gabriel’s cheeks began to tint a soft pink, and unfortunately for him, his blush could not be hidden by the dark in the well-light pub. They continued to sit together, holding hands, without a single word passing between them. Though the silence was a bit awkward Beelzebub couldn’t deny that there was a sense of comfortability that they couldn’t imagine experiencing with anyone else but Gabriel. 

As ‘Everyday’ continued what must be its eleventh cycle since Gabriel performed the miracle he squeezed Beelzebub’s hand and turned his body a bit so he was facing them. “What do you think about leaving here? There’s a nice coastal area about an hour from here called Forth Lock and there’s a lighthouse I’ve always wanted to visit but never had a reason to before,” Gabriel asked. Though he was telling the truth about wanting to visit the lighthouse he truly just wanted to spend some time with Beelzebub away from mortal eyes. 

“I don’t see why not. I’ve never seen a lighthouse personally so I can’t deny I’m intrigued by it,” Beelzebub replied. They looked at the table and spotted the crisps that they had asked for and the untouched beer. They reached forward, having let go of Gabriel’s hand, and took a couple of sips from the beer. Beelzebub had never had it before but they couldn’t deny that they somewhat enjoyed it, it had a rather pleasant taste to it. 

Gabriel, however, grimaced as they watched Beelzebub drink the beer, shaking his head before standing from the booth and offering his hand for Beelzebub to take. They did so and allowed Gabriel to assist them. They left the beer and crisps on the table, walking out of the pub after Gabriel waved goodbye to the owner. 

Once they stepped a few feet away from the entrance of the pub so that no one could see them. Gabriel pulled Beelzebub a bit closer and with a snap of his fingers they vanished into thin air and almost instantaneously they reappeared right in front of the Leith East Breakwater Lighthouse. The lighthouse was currently illuminating the harbor, the ripples in the water reflecting the stars in the night sky. It was a gorgeous sight Beelzebub had to admit, and it was only made better with Gabriel by their side. 

In the harbor boats of all sizes were docked and lit only the lighthouse, not a single other human or celestial being in sight. Right now it was just Beelzebub, Gabriel, and the surrounding water occupying this peaceful space, and Beelzebub could not help but wonder if this is what it felt like in Heaven because they could not remember. 

Beelzebub turned to look at Gabriel, his violet eyes vibrant and filled with so much care, affection, and dare they say… love. They smiled brightly at him, taking hold of his other hand so both were in their grasp. “I cannot deny this is a beautiful area,” Beelzebub admitted, grinning up at Gabriel with a tenderness they never imagined possible for them. They’re the bloody Prince of Hell they weren’t supposed to be tender or kind, hell, angels, and demons weren’t even supposed to experience emotions. But, if this was so wrong of them they never wanted to be right. For Beelzebub this was the greatest sin of all, falling for the Supreme Archangel was certainly a sin disguised as a blessing and they’d gladly fall for it over and over again if it meant being with Gabriel. 

“Ha,” he chuckled. “I’m glad you like it so much. I have to say, though, that I wasn’t being entirely truthful in my reasoning for wanting to come here,” he admitted sheepishly, grinning at them like a fool. 

“Oh?” they questioned, raising an eyebrow at him. “I thought angels couldn’t lie.”

Gabriel laughed, “I didn’t lie, per se, I just didn’t say the full truth.” He grasped Beelzebub’s hands firmly and once again pulled them closer, moving one hand to their waist while outstretching their other. As he did so he waved his fingers towards the nearby boat which began to play ‘Everyday’ on the speakers. He slowly began to sway to the music urging Beelzebub to do the same. 

They laughed as they realized this was Gabriel’s reasoning for dragging them here to a secluded spot of Scotland at this Godforsaken time of night. “I thought angels couldn’t dance,” Beelzebub said, grinning at the utter foolishness of the situation. They were acting like teenagers in love and it was so beyond embarrassing, but God if it wasn’t the greatest feeling in the world then what could be? “Oh, and here you go again Mr.’I don’t perform miracles on trivial matters’, performing miracles just to play and dance to a stupid song I enjoy.” 

“I can’t dance,” he admitted, “I’m winging it as I go.” Beelzebub rolled their eyes at his answer, shaking their head in disbelief at his absurdity. He continued, replying to Beelzebub’s tease at frivolous miracles. “Well of course I performed the miracles, they aren’t trivial at all if it’s for you,” he replied with complete sincerity. 

For the second time tonight, Beelzebub was at a loss for words as they danced along to their song, sheepishly looking down at the ground the hide their embarrassment. “You damned angel, always know exactly what to say,” they muttered, smiling like a fool. 

Gabriel laughed wholeheartedly enjoying the tranquil simplicity that this moment offered. He swayed with them for the remainder of the song and even after it finished. They simply held each other and swayed in the stillness of the night– save for the crashing water against the rocks of the land. 

Beelzebub was beginning to feel a bit overwhelmed by their emotions. They had never felt all this positive emotion at once and it was building up in them like a pot of boiling water ready to spill over any second. They’d never been on the receiving end of this generosity, this intimacy in Hell before. If they were honest they’d never been on the receiving end of a singular positive emotion in the 6,000 years they were a demon and it was all so new and raw. 

It was strange and while it wasn’t unpleasant or unwelcomed it was all a bit too much at once. A squeeze against their hand seemed to snap them out of their thoughts. They looked up at Gabriel who was giving them a comforting smile though his eyes expressed a bit of concern for their sudden shift. 

Every emotion they felt towards the Archangel rushed back to Beelzebub and without giving it a second thought they released his hands. Instead, they grabbed the lapels of his coat and pulled him firmly down to them smashing their lips to his in a sudden rush of absolute need. Not for anything more than this but they couldn’t hold back their emotions any longer and this was the only way they could think of to get across their feelings all at once. They were never great at communicating what they were feeling without it coming across as anger and that was the last thing they’d want at this moment. 

Gabriel was stiff for only a few seconds, stunned at the suddenness of Beelzebub’s lips against his, but once he processed what was happening he wrapped his arms behind their back and pulled them closer so that they were flush against his body. He kissed them back with equal enthusiasm and fervor, and they both melted into each other, soft sighs of relief leaving them. 

The kiss was nothing like either of them had ever experienced before. For Gabriel, it was like a song sung by the Heavens, and for Beelzebub, it was like flies buzzing in their ear. They kissed one another with such passion and adoration, holding on for dear life and never wanting to let go. They were drowning in a sea of love that would only make it harder to breathe but neither of them cared because if they were able to die right now they’d both be content. 

Beelzebub’s hands didn’t move from the lapels of Gabriel’s coat, instead pulling them more so that he had to adjust for balance. Gabriel’s hands traveled from their back to their waist, up their sides to their face which he caresses so gently that it felt like a feather was grazing their skin before he moved back down to their waist again.

The kiss was nothing like they’d ever experienced before. It was like a warm embrace that they’d never been given. Like wings that wrapped them in a cocoon of their own for safety and security built purely on love. It was better than Heaven and Hell. It was home. 

When they broke apart they stared at each other dazed for a bit before Beelzebub couldn’t help but laugh accompanied with a pure-hearted smile that made Gabriel fall for them even more. He joined in with their laughter and leaned forward again to kiss the top of their head. 

After a few seconds of standing like that against each other Beelzebub asked, “So, what does this mean from here?” Despite the actions that just occurred they couldn’t help but feel anxious as they awaited Gabriel’s reply, fearing the worst. 

“I’m not entirely sure, to be honest,” he admitted, “but I never want it to end, Beelzebub. I want to be with you for all of eternity.” 

Beelzebub looked up at him, recognizing the look of pure determination and sincerity in his eyes. “I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.” 

Gabriel moved his hands from their waist back to their hands, taking them both and holding them out in front of him. “Beelzebub, I am an Archangel from Heaven, a place designed by God for love and light and all things good. I am the Archangel Gabriel, the herald of visions and messenger of God Herself. I am the Supreme Archangel of the holiest place in the universe, designed in the likeness of God’s image that claims to be all pure and all holy,” he paused for a second, moving one hand to cradle the side of Beelzebub’s face. They sank into his touch, his hand warm, gentle, and soft. “And yet, despite that, I have never in my 6,000 years as the Archangel Gabriel felt truly loved and appreciated as I do with you. Nor have I ever felt the love I have for you with anything or anyone else.” He tilted their head up so their eyes were locked when he confessed his next words. 

“Beelzebub, Lord of the Flies and Prince of Hell, I love you. For Heaven’s sake, it’s more than that! I’m fucking in love with you.”  

Beelzebub stood there staring at Gabriel in utter disbelief for what felt like minutes but was really only a few seconds. When they collected their thoughts and processed Gabriel’s words they finally were able to ground themself enough to speak again. “You bloody idiot, as much as I didn’t want to admit it at the time I’ve been in love with you ever since our meeting in America. I love you, Gabriel, I love you more than Hell itself, which truthfully I don’t love very much but it’s the second best thing after you. Though there’s a very large margin from Hell to you so no need to worry about it much. Ah shit, I do love my flies more than Hell so in comparison to you they’re–”

Their rambling had been interrupted by Gabriel’s lips against theirs once more. The flies that flew around in their stomach made their non-existent heart skip several beats. They grabbed onto Gabriel like their life depended on it and allowed themself to be washed up in this moment of absolute bliss. 

3 Months Ago; A. Z. Fell and Co. - 4 Years After Armagedidn’t 

Beelzebub has been distraught ever since they learned the news that Gabriel went missing and not being able to tell anyone the reason why was only making it worse. They were used to discorporating lesser demons occasionally but since this whole ordeal happened the number of lesser demons that faced the wrath of the Grand Duke of Hell was surely nearing the thousands. Currently, they were sitting on their throne, cooling down after just having witnessed nearly– if not all –of the demons that joined Shax with her little confrontation with that angel, Aziraphale’s, bookshop. 

Dagon was approaching Beelzebub with Furfur, about to report an important discovery they had reached during Furfur’s active admissions process when they were cut off by loud blaring sounds that rung throughout the entirety of Hell. ‘WAR HAS BEEN DECLARED,’ was blasting throughout the throne room with bright red flashing lights. A map appeared before Beelzebub with a bright white light pointing directly to Aziraphale’s bookshop. 

“The angel declared war,” Furfur said, absolutely starstruck at the revelation. 

Dagon cheered excitedly, “We’re finally at war with Heaven!” 

Beelzebub stood still for a few short seconds, unable to process or believe what was before their eyes before they recollected themselves. They have come this far they cannot make a single mistake until they’re with Gabriel again. Not a single one. “Dagon, Furfur, enter the bookshop. We needn’t permission now that war has been declared. I’ll follow right behind you, I’m simply going to alert the other demons to prepare for battle, but we’ll follow protocol for now. The three of us should do.” 

Furfur and Dagon didn’t bother giving a verbal response, just offering a simple nod before vanishing into thin air and leaving Beelzebub behind. They paced the room, back and forth, before spotting a demon outside the window of the room. “You! Come here,” they ordered, gesturing with their finger for the demon to enter the room. The demon, Josh, hesitated before doing so. Within seconds of stepping foot into the room he was completely disposed of in a pit of fire and flies, screaming in agony as he discorporated right before Beelzebub. They were no longer able to contain their anger, their frustration, and the worst of all their worry. “Damn you angels! Where the bloody hell is he?” The question came out as a whisper, almost like a plea to God to answer so they wouldn’t go absolutely insane. Their pleas were never answered. 

Once they finally steeled themselves they vanished from Hell and materialized from smoke and fire into the bookshop, turning around and dusting off the dirt on their shoulder. Though it felt like minutes in Hell, in reality, they’d only arrived a few seconds after Furfur and Dagon on Earth. All three of the demons glanced around the room and processed the situation, spotting the angel Aziraphale, demon Crowley, an angel currently occupied with a book, and the other Archangels, along with what seemed to be three mortals. 

Dagon was the first to speak after they had all appeared, eager to do so. “We are at war! Finally!” He exclaimed, a slight laugh following his words. He stepped forward as he spoke, approaching the other being in the room. 

Crowley rolled his eyes under his sunglasses. “Nobody’s at war,” he drawled out, which made Dagon’s smile instantly fade. He continued, “You idiots sent an idiot to lead a gang of idiots to attack a bookshop.” All three of the newly arrived demons tilted their head to where Crowley had just gestured to, seeing Shax unconscious on the couch behind him. “Those idiots there,” Crowley nodded to the Archangels, “want their Archangel back so they can fire him.” He pointed to the unfamiliar human standing in the middle of the room which made Beelzebub look at him thoroughly. They didn’t recognize him at all, and while there was some sense of familiarity with the human they wouldn’t be able to mistake Gabriel. Surely, this human could not be their Gabriel. 

While Dagon occupied himself with growling at the angels, choking on their own spit for a second, Beelzebub looked past everyone to Shax, zapping her awake with a bit of lightning. “Nice job, Shax. Beautifully done. Remind me to put in for your commendation,” Beelzebub said sarcastically, watching as Shax stumbled around to stand. 

Shax observed them for a second before turning to Crowley. “Sarcasm, yes?” she asked, trying to clarify Beelzebub’s tone. 

Crowley nodded. “Yep.” 

“I’m afraid so,” Beelzebub said mockingly. 

The Archangel Michael, completely fed up with the situation, cleared his throat. “If it is to be war–” 

“No, no, no, no, no war,” Crowley interrupted. “Aziraphale, let’s sort this out,” he said turning to the angel, “Where’s the cardboard box?” 

Aziraphale furrowed his eyebrows. “What box?”

“The one Gabriel arrived with.”

Uriel was the first to ask what nearly everyone in the room was wondering. “Gabriel? He’s here?” 

The man standing in the middle of the room was the first to reply. “Sometimes people call me Gabriel,” he said cheerfully, looking over to Beelzebub and shrugging his shoulders with a broad smile, amused almost. 

Crowley sighed. “Yeah, we did a thing, hiding miracle,” gesturing to the man, and nodding his head towards Aziraphale. Beelzebub took the time to observe the man. It would certainly make sense why they couldn’t recognize Gabriel if a miracle was performed to hide him. “Apparently, if we do a miracle together, it all works a bit too well,” he explained as Aziraphale brought the box over.

Dagon, skeptical of the angels in the room, leaned forward a bit. “Careful. Could be a trap.”

Saraqael, annoyed beyond belief at this inconvenient intervention of sorts, ridiculed Dagon. “It’s a cardboard box. It’s not going to bite you.” Dagon shrunk his shoulders in defeat. 

Aziraphale, completely ignoring the bickering happening, grabbed the box and handed it to Crowley who examined the contents inside before flipping the box over. He’d seen Gabriel write on the bottom of the box during his brief visit to Heaven, but he did not know what to expect when he read Gabriel’s handwriting. “Oh, there we go. I thought that’s what you were doing,” he said, looking up at ‘Gabriel’. 

“What was I doing?” ‘Gabriel’ asked, completely confused by the situation. 

“You were writing a message. Oh, probably to yourself, on the bottom of the box,” Crowley explained. 

“‘I am in the fly!’ What fly?” Aziraphale asked after reading Gabriel’s handwriting aloud. 

Crowley adjusted the box in his hands before looking up. “Lord Beelzebub,” he called attention to them, meeting their eyes even through his sunglasses. “I believe flies are your department.”

Beelzebub shifted their weight from foot to foot. “Hm,” they hummed in thought, looking around the room, feeling for a fly that could be present. It didn’t take them long before they found it and to say they were proud was an understatement. Gabriel was wiser than he let on, they’ll admit that– though never aloud. Relief flooded their body as they realized that Gabriel truly was safe and present. “There’s only one fly here, and it’s familiar,” they admitted, spotting the fly on Aziraphale’s desk. They whistled, gaining the fly’s attention. “Come here. Come on,” they urged, gesturing with the finger for the fly to approach. “Good boy.” They chuckled as the fly crossed the room. “No wonder nobody could find you. This is where you were keeping all your memories. All your… you,” they revealed as they nudged the fly with their finger, smiling softly. 

‘Gabriel’ approached them, staring intently at the fly in their hand, confused but curious. 

“Look at you,” they sighed gently before praising Gabriel, “You’re perfect.” They turned to ‘Gabriel’, holding their finger out to him. “Here. Take it,” they said after he hesitated. ‘Gabriel’ raised his eyebrows and scoffed softly before lifting his pointer finger up to theirs, touching their finger. “Gently,” Beelzebub lightly scolded to which he listened, softening his touch. The fly crossed over onto his finger and ‘Gabriel’ brought it up to his face, unsure what exactly to do. “Now,” Beelzebub started, “Open it.” They placed their hand under their chin, grinning softly.

‘Gabriel’ gifted his finger up to his face and allowed the fly to hop onto his cheek before approaching his eye and flying in. He was hit with a rush of memories between hima dn Beelzebub, the memories happening in sequence very rapidly that it was almost too much happening all at once, but when he came too he was quickly able to collect himself with a deep breath. 

Gabriel looks around the room slowly, starting with Aziraphale and Crowley who he seems surprised, but perhaps somewhat happy, to see. “Aziraphale,” he questions, though he is not expecting an answer, instead he just laughs before looking towards the door. “Michael, Uriel,” he says before taking a pause, looking at his other fellow Archangel. “Don’t tell me.”

“I won’t,” Saraqael says, a look of disappointment on their face. 

Gabriel points to them, opening his mouth as if their name is on the tip of his tongue before he furrows his eyes and squints, trying his hardest to remember. 

“It’s Saraqael!”

“Saraqael! Yes, I knew that. Of course it is,” Gabriel exclaimed at the same time as Saraqael, laughing again as he turned to look at the demons to his left. “Oh, eesh. You guys,” he uttered in disgust. Shax stood there slack-jawed at seeing the Archangel Gabriel before her.

Finally, Gabriel turned to spot Beelzebub who looked at him with a soft smile and arms that opened up as if to ask ‘Remember me?’. How could Gabriel ever forget them, it didn’t seem possible. His eyes softened when they caught sight of Beelzebub, his shoulders relaxing and his entire expression just filled with pure warmth and love. “You,” he nearly whispered, letting out a sigh of relief that allowed the weight on his shoulders to flow off him seamlessly, bringing his hands up to his heart and holding his chest. Beelzebub couldn’t believe they could fall more in love with him but they did. “Thank you,” he professed genuinely, dropping his hands to his stomach and stepping closer to Beelzebub. 

They did the same, relieved to finally have their Archangel back within reach. “Silly, silly angel. Why?” they asked as they stopped only a few inches away from him. 

Gabriel shook his head briefly attempting to think of the words to say. “I was coming to you, but…” he paused for a second, closing his eyes before admitting, “I– I… forgot.” Beelzebub chuckled softly, not surprised at his response in the slightest given how he was acting only a few moments earlier. 

They nodded their head and looked up to meet his eyes. “Well, I think Aziraphale probably took much better care of you than I could have done,” they replied truthfully, nodding to the angel in question who looked confused at the situation. 

Their moment of reconnection was interrupted by Shax who was astonished at the sight before her. “Beelzebub! You traitor! Collaborating with Heaven?” she accused, ignoring the look of offense Gabriel gave her. 

Beelzebub leaned towards Shax. “I didn’t collaborate with Heaven any more than Gabriel collaborated with Hell,” they said firmly. Beelzebub looked around the room before their expression softened as they looked back at Gabriel. “I just found something that mattered more to me than choosing sides.” They exchanged looks with one another, Gabriel practically melting at the confession, matching Beelzebub’s warm-hearted smile with his own. His eyes filled with so much love that to nearly everyone else in the room seemed impossible for the Archangel Gabriel, and yet here he was, holding Beelzebub’s hands with such adoration that made Azirpahale’s heart melt, subconsciously reaching out to touch Crowley’s arms as they witnessed the display of love before them. 

One of the humans that no one in the room besides Crowley and Aziraphale recognized, Maggie, was the first to speak up about the display of affection. “Oh. That’s really sweet,” she sighed. Dagon gagged at both the idea of something like that and the visual display before him. 

The person beside Maggie, Nina, followed up, saying, “Enough to make you believe in true love.”

Michael, aghast at the idea of mortals in the presence of celestial beings demanded for them to be cast into pillars of salt, making them immovable and unalive. Crowley was quick to interject and lead them outside after asking Aziraphale if he could manage whatever went on inside the bookshop. After getting Aziraphale’s reassurance, Crowley led Nina and Maggie out while chaos ensued. 

Gabriel turned his attention from the door to the other angels and demons before finally looking back at Beelzebub, nodding off to the side and removing one hand from theirs so that he could pull them over to the side. The shouting had already commenced. Words of hate and disgust were shot between demons and angels, all the while Gabriel wrapped an arm around Beelzebub and stared at them both in amusement and confusion. Beelzebub caught his eyes and simply shook their head.   

Aziraphale had finally had enough of the shouting and chaos, ringing a bell to gain the attention of everyone else and ease everyone into silence as Crowley prepared to walk back in. “I’ve had quite enough of this,” Aziraphale announced, fed up with the angels and demons. “You will speak one at a time,” he ordered before gesturing with a genuine smile to Shax.

Gabriel and Beelzebub had no interest in the arguing that commenced, simply enjoying one another's company again after the events of the past week. Gabriel held onto Beelzebub’s waist securely, worried that if he were to let go they’d slip away from him. Beelzebub was grasping onto the back of Gabriel’s borrowed clothing afraid that if the other Archangel’s got a hold of him he would, once again, forget all about them. The thought alone was horrifying and it made falling as a punishment seem like the better option. Gabriel would agree. 

After minutes of bickering back and forth, Aziraphale interrupted everyone again. “Why don’t we ask them where they’d like to go?” he asked, gesturing towards Gabriel and Beelzebub who finally looked away from one another to focus on the others. Gabriel made a gesture of approval at Aziraphale’s suggestion, but it was cut off by Uriel before he could say anything. 

“Oh, this is ridiculous,” they said, rolling their eyes.

Furfur interjected, “No, there are precedents. Hell doing Heaven’s punishing for you. Job, that was one. Lovely man, never met him.”

“Um, Gabriel,” Azirapahle continued, “Beelzebub, what do you want?”

Gabriel looked over at Beelzebub, leaning back a bit as if to think about it while Beelzebub locked eyes with him. He leaned back forward again and turned to everyone in the room. “I would like… better clothes,” he confessed, Beelzebub looked towards the others in agreement with him, slightly grinning. “And I would like to be with Beelzebub. Wherever Beelzebub is, is my Heaven,” he professed, smiling at his partner. Michael couldn’t help but roll his eyes and make a sound of disapproval. 

Beelzebub ignored it and instead continued after Gabriel. “And where you are, my sweet, is forever my Hell,” they said, following Gabriel’s reaction earlier and placing their hands over their own heart as they looked up at him adoringly. Shax groaned in disgust. 

“You know, Alpha Centauri’s nice. Always wanted to go there,” Crowley announced, sharing a look with Aziraphale as he did so. “Couple of decent planets. No nightlife to speak of,” he said, shrugging a bit. 

Uriel ignored Crowley’s words, looking at Gabriel. “If you leave, you can never come back,” they threatened. 

“That would be the point,” Gabriel said apathetically. 

“If you flee, traitor,” Shax hissed at Beelzebub, Gabriel again looking at her and questioning her audacity. “Hell will send all its legions to hunt you down.”

Beelzebub rolled their eyes. “You know as well as I do how badly understaffed Hell is right now. Anyway, with me not there, Shax, you could be the next Grand Duke of Hell,” they said to appease Shax, Gabriel offering a look of false pride at the idea. 

Shax turned to the other demons. “Grand Duke of Hell,” she repeated excitedly.

“Angels and demons, they can’t just–” Michael started, only to be interrupted by Gabriel and Beelzebub singing in the corner of the room, hands clasped firmly together. 

“‘Everyday, it’s a-getting closer’,” Gabriel sang in a somewhat low baritone voice. 

Beelzebub continued, “‘Going faster than a rollercoaster’.”

They began to sing together, everyone in the room turning their attention to them. “‘Love like yours will surely come my way’.” The lights in the room that were once off began to light up as the two celestial beings slowly vanished from the room, singing a breathy, ‘A-hey, a-hey-hey’ to one another, completely ignoring everyone else. 

They were gone in a blink of an eye, left by themselves in the stars with their hands held tightly in one another’s as their wings spread out into the open space to keep them afloat. Now, finally, alone with Gabriel, Beelzebub let out an enormous sigh of relief and punched Gabriel’s arm. “I was so bloody worried, you idiot!” they exclaimed, floating back from him and crossing their arms. 

Gabriel rubbed his arm– though it didn’t hurt in the slightest, he simply know they’d take pleasure in the idea that they caused him a bit of pain after all the emotional pain they had gone through –and offered a look of defeat. “Beelzebub, I swear, I had full intention to come to you when I left Heaven! Though it’d be a bit awkward if the Supreme Archangel showed up in Hell naked and with no memory, so perhaps going to Aziraphale was a good idea,” he said, speaking the second part a bit into the air and not to Beelzebub specifically.

“You what?!” Beelzebub questioned, astonished. They hadn’t a clue as to what in Hell’s name Gabriel was talking about besides the fact that he’d gone missing. They only just learned that he’d lost his memory not even an hour ago. “You know what, tell me the story another time, for now, I’m just glad to have you back,” they admitted, their shoulders relaxing a bit as they reapproached Gabriel.

Though they’d met with each other many times over the last four years– and occasionally even before the failed war –neither of them had ever exposed their wings before to each other, or in general really. The last time Beelzebub had spread their wings was four millennia ago during a short-lived battle that they’d settled in a matter of minutes. 

For Gabriel, the last time he had spread his wings was even longer. It was during the fall of Lucifer when the rebellion had begun and angels were fighting against their brothers, sisters, best friends, and lovers. Since then Gabriel had never spread his wings, one of the six of them having been singed in the battle and while it’s had years and years to heal, a scar still remains. He was so used to being a perfect angel, that he viewed the scar as a weakness and he was damned if he were to allow other angels to see any sign of weakness on him. 

When he realized that Beelzebub was observing his wings he became shy and ashamed, tucking his wings into himself and bowing his head ever so slightly. Beelzebub noticed Gabriel’s discomfort and reached for his hand, pulling him closer to them. He allowed them to raise his head to meet their eyes. Beelzebub’s expression was soft and patient, an expression they seemed to reserve only for Gabriel. He returned their expression with a soft, unsure smile.

Gabriel was a prideful being and the idea of imperfection, especially on himself, was too much for him to bare. Yet, he would never–  ever! –claim that Beelzebub was less than perfection, not their boils or their teeth, not their wings or scars. To Gabriel, Beelzebub was a perfect being and nothing would change that, not even if Hell froze over or Heaven burned to ash. It was simply not a possible, logical outcome for Gabriel to ever even imagine. Beelzebub was perfect in every universe and he would be damned if he let anyone say otherwise. However, he could not apply that same logic to himself. 

“Oh my sweet sweet Angel, you are beautiful,” Beelzebub said in a bit of a breathy whisper. “You don’t need to hide your wings, Gabriel, they’re perfect,” they said, their own translucent fly-like wings fluttering behind them.  

Gabriel hesitated, “But–,” he cleared his throat. “They’re scarred,” he muttered. He was not used to this feeling, it was uncomfortable and unwanted. He felt like he was shrinking into himself and that was not normal for him. He wasn’t supposed to show weakness or insecurity. He was supposed to be strong and proud, fearless and loving, not this pitiful coward. 

Beelzebub cooed softly, “Oh Gabriel, who cares that they’re scarred. You’ve never once cared about my boils or imperfections, have you?” They knew Gabriel’s answer, he was too pure of heart to label any marking on Beelzebub as anything less than flawless. 

“No, I would never!” he exclaimed, “I hope you don’t think I’d ever think that of you, Beelzebub. I would never.”

Beelzebub laughed softly. “I know you wouldn’t, Angel, I only asked because I knew you never have and so why should I think any differently when it comes to you? You, and every aspect of you, is absolutely perfect regardless of scars or markings,” they reassured, taking Gabriel’s face into their hands and pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Now, let me see your wings properly. They’re most certainly fitting for the Supreme Archangel of Heaven. Must be Hell to maintain properly,” they chuckled at their own joke. 

Gabriel smiled at Beelzebub’s words, allowing his wings to spread out their full length. They stretched far into the space around them, nearly two of Gabriel’s arm's length away from his body. His wings were pure white with specs of gold scattered throughout them. Each wing from the top of his shoulder blade to the small of his back varied in size. They wrapped around his frame nicely, certainly, wings fit for one of God’s strongest soldiers. 

“Truthfully, I cannot remember the last time I took proper care of them,” he admitted sheepishly. “I don’t like bringing them out much and it's hard to find a private area to do so when I’m constantly surrounded by other angels demanding my attention.” 

“Oh, my sweet,” Beelzebub sighed. “Come, let me help you with them,” they suggested, nodding off to a nearby planet near the star Toliman that they could occupy for the time being. 

Once they’d settled onto the planet, Beelzebub had Gabriel sit in front of them with his wings spread outward so that they could begin to preen and clean the feathers with the purified water that the planet provided. The planet itself dubbed Alpha Centauri BC, was much like Earth in its features– minus the inhabitants. There were streams of water and greenery, with rocks that form canyons and mountains. It was beautiful, they had to admit. It was familiar and that alone brought enough comfort for the time being. 

When Beelzebub had started to take care of Gabriel’s wings it had felt strange at first, he had to admit, though it was far from unpleasant. Rather, he quite enjoyed the feeling of it. Having his wings gently cared for by Beelzebub was certainly something he’d never imagined centuries ago, much less five years ago, but here he is, enjoying every bit of it. Slowly but surely he began to ease into Beelzebub’s touch and relax, closing his eyes as he processed his thoughts. A lot happened in the last 24 hours, almost too much to process, but he was getting there slowly, and truthfully, none of it mattered now that he was here– away from Heaven –with Beelzebub because nothing came close to beating the feelings he got when he was in their presence, and nothing ever would. 

Present Day; Edinburgh, Scotland - 4 ½ Years After Armagedidn’t 

While Alpha Centauri was certainly a pleasant star system for a short time, it wasn’t as entertaining for Gabriel and Beelzebub as they had hoped it’d been. They’d manage to occupy the planets for two months, hoping from planet to star to planet and back but never really settling. They were constantly moving from place to place when finally Gabriel thought of an idea. “Why don’t we move to Edinburgh? Could always find a palace near the pub,” he suggested. 

Beelzebub jumped at the idea. Although they were no longer the Grand Duke of Hell any longer they still missed chaos, and Earth, even in small forms, provided some of that chaos, that mischief. It wasn’t much, but with that knowledge and with the memories that reside in Edinburg for both Gabriel and Beelzebub it was a place they agreed they’d be able to call home. 

So, within a few weeks, they had moved into a small flat near The Resurrectionists. In an attempt to avoid suspicion from Heaven and Hell, they’d avoided any attempt at using large miracles, instead, deciding to go through the grueling process of obtaining a house the way any human would. While it had taken some time they’d finally managed to get a place they could call their own in a location that they couldn’t care to complain about. 

The flat itself was practically fully furnished, save for a few appliances that were deemed necessary for mortals, but for celestial beings, they could be put on the back burner for another time. They barely needed a house in the first place, but if they wanted to maintain some semblance of normalcy it was a good idea and Gabriel wouldn’t complain. He’d gotten used to sleeping as ‘Jim’ in Aziraphale’s bookshop, and while he still no longer needed to, he could admit that the activity was quite pleasant, in the same way he would about jogging. 

Beelzebub, on the other hand, enjoyed more the electronics side of life on Earth. Music and television have certainly been something they’d grown fond of, which is why when they’d first moved into the home Beelzebub was quick to suggest they find a TV to set up. They enjoyed shows and movies about horror and violence, it brought them a sense of comfort— though Gabriel could never understand why, but still, if it made Beelzebub happy he’d suffer through it for them. 

So, they’d settled into this routine for a little under a month. Gabriel would wake up each morning and go for a jog, coming back to enjoy a cup of hot chocolate and a boom— two other things he’d come to enjoy thanks to Aziraphale —before going to wake up Beelzebub with a kiss on their cheek. Beelzebub fell into a routine of sleep, something they actually quite enjoyed— perhaps even more than Gabriel —and so they cherished every second of it that they could get, but they always looked forward to waking up to Gabriel’s warm kisses. 

From there, the two would get dressed for the day and be on their way, discovering new local restaurants and bars, museums, and theaters. Yet, there was one place they hadn’t visited since moving, and it was the sole reason they had chosen the area. The Resurrectionists Pub. Today that would change. 

The two had gotten dressed, Gabriel back in a similar attire to what he wore in Heaven– all except for the blazer today –all tailored to his liking. Beelzebub, on the other hand, wore nearly the same attire they had when they resided in Hell. On occasion, they would switch it up to a more casual appearance of black ripped jeans, an over-sized black button-up that they wore half tucked in with a red bolo tie, and a black jean jacket (sometimes substituted with a blazer instead), but it depended on their mood. Today they decided on the more casual approach since Gabriel had shed his blazer. 

“I still can’t believe we haven’t gone back there,” Beelzebub said a bit exasperated. “It’s been nearly a month since we moved here.”

Gabriel shrugged, “Neither can I. Although, we did attempt to go when we first moved but it was closed for the week since the owner was on vacation in London. Must have slipped our minds since then. To be fair, I haven't gone to visit my statue since we’ve come back, although I jog near the cemetery every morning.”

Beelzebub rolled their eyes. “Oh please, you must be joking. I’m sure you’ve gone to stare at yourself plenty of times in the time we’ve been back.”

Gabriel looked at Beelzebub slightly offended. “I wouldn’t lie to you. I just haven’t felt the urgent need to go see it, that’s all. We’ve been so busy situating ourselves into a normal routine I just kinda keep forgetting to go that’s all,” Gabriel explained, shrugging his shoulders. 

“You sure you got all your memories back from the fly?” Beelzebub asked teasingly. 

Gabriel chuckled, “I sure hope so, that’d be a bit of a problem if I didn’t, don’t you think.”

“Certainly,” they laughed, stopping just in front of the doors before them. They smiled at the familiar pub, it brought back pleasant memories. It was the night they first admitted their feelings to one another and they had this place to thank for it. It was only right that they’d return. 

Beelzebub opened the door, holding it open for Gabriel to walk through, following just a few steps behind him. Instantly the owner recognized them. “Well if it isn’t you two Masons!” he said with a wide smile as Gabriel and Beelzebub approached the bar. “Been a long year, hasn’t it?” 

Gabriel and Beelzebub shared a glance with one another. “Most certainly,” Gabriel replied, smiling back at the owner. He looked around the room as Beelzebub stood beside him, spotting the jukebox that sat behind them shut off. “Is the jukebox no longer working?” Gabriel asked curiously.

“Oh, that old bloody thing? Actually, since the day you two showed up, it would only play ‘Everyday” by Buddy Holly, a lovely song I’ll tell ya, but hearin’ it every day on repeat can get a bit much. Never were able to fix it no matter how much we tried. A shame, the thing cost me a fortune,” the owner explained, shaking his head as he looked at the old jukebox. 

Gabriel hummed, coming to realize that his little miracle was the problem. “Mind if I take a look at it?” he asked.

The owner shrugged, “No harm in tryin’, but don’t feel bad if you’re unable to fix it. Nobody is.” 

Gabriel nodded before going over to the jukebox, plugging it into the wall, and letting the lights flash on. He moved around the machine as if to examine it and attempt to figure out a problem, but really he was only stalling time before he could perform a miracle, one small enough that it shouldn’t cause any alarm in Heaven– or so he hoped. After a minute or two of messing around with the back of the machine, he waved his fingers, and like magic, the machine was fixed, and instead of ‘Everyday’ playing ‘This Charming Man’ by The Smiths filled the surrounding speakers. Beelzebub watched Gabriel immensely amused by him and still charmed by his unique ways. 

The owner was stunned as his jukebox was brought to life. “You must be an angel of some sort ‘cause every time you’ve been in this pub something inexplicable happens,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. 

Gabriel chuckled as he reapproached the bar, putting an arm around Beelzebub’s waist with a smile. “I don’t know what to say, Sir. Perhaps it’s just happenstance,” Gabriel shrugged, acting clueless to his own shenanigans. 

“Perhaps,” the owner repeated, “in any case, what can I get you, lads?” 

“Two beers,” Gabriel answered, having learned the name of the ‘intoxicating liquor’, “Ah, and a packet of crisps too.” Beelzebub smiled broadly, both amused at Gabriel’s attempt to sound British– without actually attempting the accent –and at the knowledge that he remembered that they enjoyed crisps. It was a nice, genuine gesture that they weren’t quite used to just yet. 

“Coming right up,” the owner said, grabbing the crisps and pushing them towards Beelzebub before pouring the two pints of beers and handing them to Gabriel. “Enjoy!” he exclaimed. 

“Thank you,” Gabriel said, hanging the man however much money was needed for the beer and snack. 

The owner shook his head. “On the house, for fixing my jukebox. Thank you, lad, it’s greatly appreciated.”

Gabriel smiled and offered a firm nod. “No worries at all, glad I could help,” he said before taking the beers and following behind Beelzebub to the booth they had sat at the last time they were here. They settled into their seats, enjoying the array of music that played over the speakers for them to listen to while they relished in each other's company. 

“You know, you should really try the beer this time. You might like it, Angel,” Beelzebub urged, nodding to the pint in front of them. “It’s not too bad once you get past the initial bitterness of it.”

Gabriel cringed at the thought but he couldn’t say he wasn’t curious to try. A year ago he wouldn’t have imagined liking hot chocolate, or reading, or sleeping but times change. Perhaps alcohol was worth a shot too. He shrugged, “I suppose.” He grabbed the glass in front of him and brought it to his lips to take a sip, Beelzebub watching him intently. He took a sip only to struggle to swallow it afterward, feeling a shiver crawl down his spine which he didn’t even know was possible. “Oh God, that’s horrific!” he exclaimed. “How can you, or anyone for that matter, drink that?”

Beelzebub laughed in amusement. “Oh it’s not that bad,” Beelzebub replied, “you’re just being dramatic. Maybe wine is more your thing.” 

Gabriel groveled at the idea of having to try something new again. “No, I think I’ll pass. I’ll stick with my hot chocolate for now, thank you,” he said sardonically. 

“Oh well, more for me then,” Beelzebub said, finishing their own pint in two large gulps and then grabbing Gabriel’s glass, intending to do the same. Gabriel grabbed at their hand before they could have another sip. 

“Ah ah, pace yourself, we don’t want the humans here to question our actions,” Gabriel explained. 

Beelzebub scoffed, “Oh please, they’ve been questioning our actions ever since you magically fixed the jukebox. Look,” the nodded to the surrounding guests. ‘Everyday’ had just started to play on the jukebox and a collective groan was shared throughout the establishment, though at least this time it shouldn’t play on repeat. 

Gabriel sighed gently before chuckling, unable to hold in his amusement any longer. “Oh well, fine, do whatever you please, just please don’t make me have to drag you back him,” he begged. Gabriel had never been drunk, though he knew about it only because of surrounding humans on his prior visits to Earth when he resided in Heaven.

“No need to worry, Angel, this demon can handle their liquor, believe me,” Beelzebub said, cracking open the packet of crisps and munching on a few of them. 

Needless to say, an hour later and two more beers in Beelzebub’s system, without a bottle to refill the beer in Beelzebub’s system with– and with the lack of attention they were attempting to get from the use of miracles –Gabriel had to carry Beelzebub back to their flat on his back, holding their legs securely around his waist as Beelzebub wrapped their arms around his neck for support. 

“Y’know, Gabe,” Beelzebub mumbled, their words ever so slurred, “I love you so much. I’m so glad we–” they hiccuped “--continued to have meeting despite being enemies. I don’t know what I’d do without you, well, besides rot in Hell, I guess.” Though their words made sense, Gabriel was still ever so amused at their slurred speech and unusually common sappiness. 

He could only reply with a simple, but heartfelt, “I love you too, Little Bee,” as he got out the key to open their flat door and prepare to aid his drunk partner.

[symphony-calamity]

Just so we're all on the same page, Gabriel spending hours staring at a statue of himself is an EXTREMELY cringefail loserboy thing for him to do.

[sainamoonshine]

Having more crunchy thoughts about good omens season two.

Gabriel, the angel who liked good tailoring. Who frequently went down to earth to stare at a statue of himself.

The way heaven sees Earth as something corrupting. Dirty. How consumption is a powerful act*. How even an empty match box has to be treated like a live bomb.

This makes us wonder, then: how will Muriel and Shax also be changed by Earth? How will Jesus 2.0?

*This might just be my own storytelling brain latching on, since I’m working with this very concept in Married to the Evil Wizard King. The pomegranate, how you can’t eat of a land without transforming into something that is of that land, and you can’t eat of a person without tying yourself to them in the same way, etc etc. In good omens, specifically: the ox, the consuming of mortal sustenance, the kiss. Gabriel’s hot chocolate.

[circusgoth-dotcom]

The Long Lost Siblings

Ship: Implied Gabriel of Blackburn x The Sheriff of Nottingham, Gabriel interacting with Marian and Sarah

Word Count: 1273

Summary: Gabriel sets out to speak with Maid Marian, but there's not much she can say without her father around. CWs for brief food mentions (kind of?), implied Sheriff wanting to use Gabriel's status for his own gain (though we all know the man has a big fat crush that offsets these desires), implied ambush by Robin Hood and his merry men, cliffhanger.

Tag List: @myers-meadow @canongf @futurewife

Though the sheriff’s words had piqued Gabriel’s interest, he was hesitant to bother this “Marian,” especially with her higher status. Still, she lived here, in Nottingham, amongst people like him... so what really made them so different from each other?

Once his nerves about angering the sheriff again had passed, he finally set out for the rolling hills beyond the city, borrowing a shadowy horse with fiery eyes. Gabriel had little experience with actually riding horses, but this animal seemed willing to work with him, trotting along at a comfortable pace while he psyched himself up.

How to even start a conversation like this? “Hi, I’m Gabriel, the sheriff told me to ask you about your family because he thinks we might be related?” And who knows what Marian was actually like... what if she were cold toward him the moment he arrived? As his thoughts wandered, his hand fiddled with the cross around his neck. Slowly, he began to take in his surroundings, and he felt his stomach drop as he gripped the reigns in front of him.

“Woah...” He commanded, staring wide-eyed at the trees on either side of him. He hadn’t considered he would have to make his way through Sherwood Forest in order to reach his destination. Skin prickling, he pressed low against the back of the horse and urged it forward once more, now on high alert. The dappling of the sun through the vibrant foliage would’ve almost been mystical if Gabriel had not been so tense. Somewhere far off he heard a whistling. He reached up to pet the horse’s neck soothingly, more to reassure himself than the animal. Lord, you know I’m not as much of a holy man as you’d surely like me to be, but please grant me safe passage through these wicked woods...

He signalled for the horse to pick up the pace, just barely glimpsing the bright parting of the treeline up ahead. Wooden chimes clunked together and branches whined with each step the beast took down the road. Gabriel’s mind raced. He should turn around now, before Robin Hood appeared, but he was frozen in place, stuck to the back of his horse. He supposed having an animal with such a dark coat gave him an advantage in the shadows, but it didn’t mean he was safe. All was still for three agonizingly long seconds before Gabriel swore he heard someone behind him.

He drove the horse into a canter, then a full gallop as his soul reached for the light beyond the trees... and when he burst into it, he gasped in relief, never so grateful before to feel the sun’s warmth on his face. And Marian’s home was not far, he could see it in the distance. He rode down the field, shaking with tears in his eyes. To make the return home would be just as hard, so he savoured his time out of the line of fire. When he reached the large stone building, he slid off of his horse and led it toward the property’s stable. There, he found a homely maiden, her brunette hair tied away from her round face in a simple braid.

“Are you Maid Marian?” Gabriel asked, slightly out of breath. The woman looked up, surprised at the sound of a visitor.

“No, but she is my lady... who are you?”

“Ah, forgive me... I’m Gabriel of Blackburn. A friend of mine in the city encouraged me to find Maid Marian... I-I know this sounds a bit odd, but he believes we must be related.”

The surprise remained on the woman’s face. “Who might this friend be?”

He felt warmth flow into his cheeks and ears. “The Sheriff of Nottingham, ma’am.”

At this, her brow furrowed. She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it for a moment before speaking once more. “If my lady wishes to speak to you, you shall have at it. If she doesn’t, you must return back the way you came, at once.”

Now it was Gabriel’s turn to be puzzled. “Well... alright.” He glanced back toward the forest and swallowed while the maid went off to fetch Marian. It wasn’t long before a woman with flowing, curly hair in an almost identical shade to Gabriel’s appeared, wearing a green dress with gold embellishments.

“So, this is Gabriel?” Marian spoke. Gabriel bowed in respect.

“A pleasure to be in your presence, my lady.” He straightened up and attempted to fix his hair, as it had fallen in his face when he dipped. “I hate to be a bother... truly, I don’t know where to begin...”

“The sheriff thinks we’re related?”

“Oh-- yes, yes he does. Wouldn’t tell me why or how he has any inkling of that being the case...” Gabriel studied Marian’s features as respectfully as he could. “I suppose... if you put on a little more weight in the face, yes... I could see the similarities between us. But related...?”

“Why don’t you come inside? Sarah, will you fetch us some tea?”

“Of course, Lady Marian.”

~~~

Once settled inside a sunny drawing room, with cups of tea in hand, Marian began to tell Gabriel all she knew- or at least, all she wanted Gabriel to know.

“My father liked to travel, before he settled with my mother and they had me... it’s not impossible that he was in a relationship prior to this,” she began, stirring honey into her tea.

“He hasn’t happened to mention a...” Gabriel cleared his throat, far from used to speaking about his mother nowadays, “Catherine, has he?”

Marian considered this for a moment. “I don’t believe so.”

Gabriel nodded. “Doesn’t surprise me, whether he’s truly my father or not. Not many would like to associate with the likes of her, believe me.”

“The more I look at you two...” Sarah began before shaking her head in disbelief.

“Has he ever mentioned Blackburn, my hometown?” Gabriel pressed. He didn’t know why he was suddenly so determined to get answers. If it was all a false trail, his life would remain mostly unchanged, though the future of his relationship with the sheriff would become much more awkward.

“He may’ve. But that doesn’t prove anything. You’d have to talk to him yourself about it, but he’s aiding King Richard in the Crusades at the moment.”

“Would you send him a letter on my behalf?”

Marian hesitated, but when her eyes met Gabriel’s a willing and determined expression took her. “I’ll get to the bottom of this. You’ve intrigued me.”

“Thank you so much, my lady,” Gabriel bowed his head. “And thank you for the tea as well.”

“And for feeding and watering your horse,” Sarah added. Though not much progress had been made, Gabriel left Maid Marian’s home feeling a bit more optimistic. Her father’s word would be final, if he told the truth. As he entered Sherwood Forest, doubt rose again; even then, what would happen after the confirmation if it was all true? Would it not be a scandal if it got out that the brother of King Richard and Prince John had had a child before his marriage? Would they not all be scrutinized? Would Gabriel’s royal blood even matter at that point?

It matters to the sheriff, a small voice inside of him called out. It matters to him very much.

But why is this so? Because we’re such close friends?

You know as much as I... we’re the same person, after all.

The cracking of a branch shook Gabriel out of his internal conflict, and a scream ripped through him as an arrow whizzed over his head.

[mothman-stolemyeyebrows]

I love that Gabriel’s idea of a date is to take Beelzebub to stare at a statue of himself. And Beelzebub’s reaction to it is just “huh, okay. Want to go to the pub now?”