#Angel Dust being the eavesdropper he is

[lucifersgirl]

Dreams

Omg this took me SO LONG TO MAKE but it’s finally out!! WOOHOO!! Enjoy, my favorite people in the world!! Love ya!!

⚠️ WARNING ⚠️- THIS WRITING CONTAINS EXPLICIT CONTENT. SMUT BELOW. MDNI.

“Oh, Lucifer~.”

Lucifer looked up and saw you dressed in black and red lingerie. It hugged your skin and left very little to the imagination.

His heart skipped a beat. He tried to speak, but his voice was gone.

You moved your arm towards you and Lucifer felt his neck being pulled to you as well. He looked at your hand. You currently had him in a collar on a leash.

Lucifer felt a familiar pain between his legs.

You smirked and moved your free hand to his hard-on. “Do you want me to touch you?”

He groaned and nodded profusely. His hips bucked up into your hand when you started to move.

You ran your fingers over his red, leaking tip as you stroked his shaft, eliciting gasps and moans from Lucifer.

His vision grew blurry from tears springing into his eyes. “Mmh~…feels-angh-feels so g-good…” he whimpered. “C-close…’m clo-AH-close…p-please…MMPH…OHGODFUCKCUMMING!” He moaned loudly, his legs shaking and hips bucking as he came all over your hand.

After a few minutes, Lucifer’s breathing slowed and his vision cleared. “Th-that was n-nice,” he whispered.

You laughed. “What makes you think we’re done here, Lucifer?”

————————

Lucifer shot up in bed. He looked around. You were nowhere in sight. The image of you in that revealing lingerie was still extremely fresh in his mind. His face fell as he remembered that you were away on business this week.

“God dammit,” he groaned as he looked underneath the covers. There was a spot on his boxers from where the remains of his wet dream were.

Lucifer grunted as he pulled the covers off of himself and went to the bathroom to change.

Pictures of the two of you together decorated the walls. Lucifer pouted and his heart sank when he looked at them.

He missed you.

He opened the bathroom door and pulled his pajama pants and underwear to his ankles. He sighed and cleaned himself off with a tissue he had materialized earlier in case of this particular situation. He looked at himself in the giant mirror in front of him. He looked a mess. His hair was sticking out from all directions and his eyes had bags under them.

Lucifer sighed. Oh, how he wished you were here to cuddle and hold him. To make him tea while he worked at his desk. To listen to his complaints and dreams. To love and care for him. To help him with whatever he needed.

To help him…

Lucifer stared at himself angrily in the mirror. “No,” he said firmly, “we are absolutely not going to think about that.” But his dick hardened despite his efforts to think about other things.

“Oh, fuck you, Lucifer!” He frowned annoyedly at his reflection. He ran his fingers through his hair as he thought about what to do. He didn’t want to jerk off in the bathroom in the middle of the night, but he also didn’t want to try and sleep off his erection (which he knew would never happen).

His cock throbbed angrily. “Why did she have to leave?” Lucifer groaned as he placed his hand around the base of his member. He covered his mouth and slowly started to stroke his shaft.

He glanced at his reflection in the mirror. He looked pathetic. His hair was somehow even worse than when he had first looked in the mirror. Sweat poured from his forehead and his eyes were starting to water. And the fact that his hand was over his mouth so no one could hear his needy moans was an additional punch in the gut.

He stroked his aching cock faster and rougher, in a hurry to finish what he started. His hand went from his mouth to the countertop so that he could keep his balance. “Come on…a-ah-almost there…hngh…” he groaned.

Just then, Lucifer heard the door open with a click.

Lucifer quickly halted his movements and pulled his pants up. “Shit, shit, shit!” He whispered.

“Lucifer?”

It was you. “Oh, fuck me,” Lucifer said quietly as he opened the bathroom door.

You smiled at him when he opened the door, having not heard what he had just said. “There you are, sweetheart!”

“H-hi, y-yn! W-welcome home!” Lucifer stuttered. His cock was now more hard and angry than before, and it was driving him insane. “H-how was your trip?”

“It was…successful. I didn’t have much fun, though. All anyone was talking about was work, work, work all the time. They were all like, ‘Oh, this and that needs to be done by tomorrow and…”

Lucifer had stopped listening. The pain between his legs was making him dizzy. He was listing excuses in his mind so he could get back to what he needed to do. His member leaked pathetically inside his drawers.

“Lucifer? Lucifer, are you okay?”

Your words snapped him out of his imagination. “Oh, y-yeah I’m fi-ine. Just-mmh-just a bit under the w-weather. I’m all g-good.” He tried to muster a smile, but it didn’t happen. “Shit,” he thought, “how am I going to get out of this?”

You looked him up and down and noticed what was causing him to behave like this. You smiled slyly as you moved your hand down to his hard-on. “So this is what’s been making you act all out of it? Hmm?” You inquired.

Lucifer whimpered as you palmed his erection. “I-I had a d-dream…”

You laughed softly. “And what might that dream have been about?”

Lucifer whined. “You-ha-you were-gah-were wearing l-lingerie a-and I h-had a collar on a-and-hngh-and y-you-angh…” he trailed off into a string of quiet curses and moans.

“Aw, you poor thing! All alone in your room left to take care of this yourself! Here, baby, let me make it up to you,” you said as you picked him up and threw him gently on the bed.

You climbed on top of a now wide-eyed Lucifer. You reached for the hem of his pants and slowly pulled them off. You kissed him softly and gently tugged his boxers off as well. You threw them into a corner of the room. Then, you gripped his length and started to stroke him at an even pace. “Does that feel good, Luci?” You asked.

“Y-yeah…o-oh god…yes…angh…o-oh god, th-that’s so n-nice…hngh…ugh…’m getting c-close…please…oh, baby, please…AH~…g-AH-hnngh…baby, pl-ANGH-lease…FFFFFFUUUCK, OHMYGODBABYCUMMINGPLEASE!” Lucifer moaned loudly and bucked his hips without a care in the world as his orgasm hit him like a truck.

You giggled as you watched him try to catch his breath. “Good?”

He smiled weakly at you. “R-really good.”

You returned the smile as you took your hand off him and crawled back towards the foot of the bed. You made a show of taking your pants and shirt off.

Lucifer gasped. It was the same lacy lingerie you were wearing in the dream!

You giggled again. “Like what you see?” You teased.

He nodded, his eyes fixed on your perfect body (yes, your body is perfect, baby! Are you kidding me? You look amazing! Never stop telling yourself that! ;)).

You leaned down and pressed a kiss on his angry red tip. “I wore it just for you, baby,” you whispered.

Lucifer’s cock twitched. He whined. He needed you so badly, just like he always did.

You laughed softly and liked a stripe up his trembling length. Lucifer let out a high pitched moan and you slowly sunk your mouth down on him. You swirled your tongue around his hard-on before sliding your face even closer to his pelvis. Thank god you didn’t have a gag reflex now that you were a sinner in Hell.

Lucifer clutched your hair and whimpered pathetically, tears already streaming from his eyes from the overstimulation. “Hnngh…f-feels so g-good…AH~…y-yn…OOH~…y-ye-ah…ungh…ffffffffuuuuuuuuuuuck…sh-shhhiiiit, baby, th-AH-t’s niiice…ANGH…” he whined. His grip on your hair tightened as his second orgasm approached. “P-please? Please, ba-ANGH-by? ‘ve been s-so g-good f’you…all f’you…OH~…AH~ PLEASE?” He begged as his next orgasm came quicker than the last.

You looked at him with your teary eyes, hummed and gave him an approving nod as you bobbed your head up and down on his lengthy dick. You couldn’t really talk because your mouth was so full, but you knew Lucifer would get the idea.

And get the idea he did. “Th-thank you…oh, god, thank you…th-THANKYOUSOMUCH…HNGH…GODFUCKCUMMING!” He screamed as he threw his head back and uncontrollably rammed his hips into your mouth.

You rode him through his orgasm, still trying to bob your head as tears fell down your face and onto the covers below you. When he was done, you released his cock from your mouth with a *pop*. “God, you’re big,” you said as you wiped your eyes with the sheets.

Lucifer looked away in embarrassment, a blush setting on his cheeks. “That was…nice,” he breathed unevenly. “Th-thanks.”

“Did you think we were done?” You asked him.

He looked at you with wide eyes. “W-well, yeah…” he mumbled. “I-I just assumed…”

You materialized a leash in your one hand and a collar in the other. “Well, we’re not done,” you smiled. “In fact, we’re just getting started.”

You crawled back up toward Lucifer’s face and gave him a sloppy kiss on the forehead. You unclasped your bra and exposed your breasts to the cool air.

Lucifer’s hands immediately went to your chest and he groped your breasts slowly. “I love these,” he whispered as he buried his face in your warmth. He ran his fingers over your nipples teasingly and rolled them gently in his digits.

You moaned softly as he continued his movements. “Th-ah-that’s nice, Luci~,” you praised.

Lucifer smiled into your chest as he moved his mouth to one of your tits while he played with your nipple on your other breast. He grinned more prominently as your moans grew louder and louder. Your noises were music to his ears. He hummed and switched from sucking on one of your tits to the other. He whined annoyedly when he felt your hand push him back slightly.

“I think you’re forgetting what your dream was about, pretty boy,” you whispered in his ear as you latched the collar on his neck. You then attached the leash and laid Lucifer flat on the bed. “Ready?” You asked him as you moved your panties to the side.

Lucifer nodded eagerly as you lined up your hole with his already leaking cock.

When you finally sank down on him, the two of you moaned loudly. His dick filled you up to the brim and tears filled both of your eyes again. “Y-you’re so b-big, Luci~,” you gasped as you gave yourself time to adjust. When you were ready, you slowly ground down on his length.

Lucifer couldn’t contain himself as you rode him through his third orgasm of the night. He bucked his hips up into your glistening cunt and whimpered happily as he finally got what he had been craving for days.

Lucifer’s member hit your g-spot every time he moved. The sound of slapping skin and hungry moans filled the room. You were sure everyone in Hell could hear the both of you, much less the people in the hotel, but the two of you didn’t care. The both of you were too fucked out to even remember your own names, so why would you care if some stupid sinners heard you?

“G-GAH! YN! HNNGH! S-SO GOOD! HAH~! F-FASTER! PLEASE, YN, FASTER!” Lucifer screamed as his length was enveloped in your warm, tight pussy. “‘M CLOSE, YN! PLEASE, BABY, I’M SO CLOSE!”

“OH~RIGHT THERE LUCI! FUCK, BABY, RIGHT THERE! D-DOING SO G-GOOD F’ME, HONEY! OH, GOD, HONEY! Y-YOU’RE GONNA MAKE ME C-CUM! HA~YEAH! LET GO, B-BABY, AND I’LL COME R-RIGHT W-WITH YOU! OKAY?” You moaned as Lucifer’s cock hit that spot every time.

Lucifer came inside you with a “FUCK” and only slowed his movements when you had cum as well.

You fell back into the bed and tried desperately to catch your breath.

“F-fuck, that was hot,” Lucifer said after a while.

You laughed tiredly and cuddled into him. “Yeah,” you agreed as you yawned.

“Sleepy?” Lucifer asked as he patted your head.

You nodded.

Lucifer giggled. “Goodnight, darling,” he whispered into your hair before dozing off for the night.

————————

Angel Dust smiled to himself slyly as he laid wide awake in his bed. “Oh, I am SO making fun of them tomorrow,” he laughed.

[agerefandom]

Evenings of Eternity (Chapter 1)

Fandom: Good Omens (mostly book, but set in the present day with bits of tv show influence)

Words: 2,500

Summary: Crowley has been many things throughout the millenia, but he’s never been a child. He finds himself curious about the idea of childhood, and Aziraphale offers to help him explore that curiosity. (regressor!crowley, cg!aziraphale)

Content Warnings: brief mentions of angst/grief, discussions of k/nk in a neutral tone, passing reference to n$fw material.

Some Notes: I have two chapters of this story written, and they work well together as a stand-alone, but I plan to continue the series, so let me know if you have any requests for these two! There is no regression in Chapter One, only discussions of it. Also, I headcanon Crowley as asexual and genderfluid, and Aziraphale as gay and agender (as far as we can label non-human experiences of gender and sexuality). It has very little bearing on the story, but I thought I would mention it!

Read Chapter Two Here!

After several thousand years, Aziraphale thought he’d gotten used to Time, with all of its intricacies. But after the non-apocalypse, he found that it was moving differently.

Well, that wasn’t quite right: it all changed when he moved in with Crowley.

Moving in together seemed like the natural thing to do, after everything, and after a few months with no word from Upstairs nor Downstairs, they both warily agreed to try a kind of retirement. Settle down together as housemates who could enjoy the sunshine without worrying about being treasonous or hedonistic, who could call each other friends without looking over their shoulders for eavesdroppers.

So Aziraphale tucked away his bookshop into a little dimension where no one would find it, and the books wouldn’t gather dust. He packed all of his favourites, which was roughly half the shop, into a suitcase, and carried it out to where Crowley was leaning against the Bentley. Crowley helped him load it into the boot with a decent amount of grumbling, and that had been it for London.

Here on the South Downs, Crowley’s plants spread across their house. They were more verdant than ever, as Aziraphale’s disappointed looks had proven a more terrifying threat than anything Crowley had thrown at them. The plants mingled with the books, bloomed in the well-used kitchen, and lounged in the window frames, soaking up the occasional day of sunlight.

From the very start, Aziraphale found that living with Crowley was like discovering Earth all over again. He had started counting his new life not from the apocalypse-that-wasn’t, but from the date when they moved in together.

Reading felt different with Crowley curled in the chair beside him, flicking through news apps. Bathing felt different with Crowley humming along to a record in the living room. Nights felt different with Crowley sleeping through most of them, leaving the silence heavy around Aziraphale, and much lonelier than the nights had been in his bookshop, with the nightlife of Soho all around him.

The whole world was new twice-over, once from Adam’s decision to save the earth, and again from the mere proximity of Crowley.

Time was re-invented, not moving in the familiar decades that bled into centuries, but suddenly made into mornings, evenings, and late nights. The days came alive in a way that Aziraphale had never experienced, and soon enough he found himself lying down next to Crowley every night just for the pleasure of waking up to another lazy morning.

--

It was nine months and twelve days after they had moved in together, and Aziraphale was still counting the mornings in wonderment. Aziraphale was walking hand-in-hand with Crowley down a path that curved around a local playground. It was an unseasonably warm day, and all of the children had run out to the playground, their laughter filling the peaceful quiet as the two not-quite-men wandered through the sunlight.

Aziraphale took advantage of the busy surroundings to glance at Crowley, and was taken off-guard by his expression. Crowley was looking towards the playground with what could only be described as grief, raw and unguarded.

“Crowley?” Aziraphale said softly, squeezing his hand. Crowley jolted, clearly startled, and turned to Aziraphale with his best attempt at a smile.

“Yes, angel?”

Aziraphale was face to face with his own reflection in Crowley’s sunglasses. He looked very anxious in the dark glass. “What’s wrong?” he asked, deciding not to avoid the point.

“Nothing at all.” Crowley sounded dismissive, but his head turned back towards the playground even as he spoke. There was a moment of silence, filled with the screeching laughter of the children. “They’re very… happy.” His voice was a mix of disdain and something else that Aziraphale couldn’t quite decipher.

“Do you want one?” Aziraphale regretted the question once he’d asked it. Crowley seemed genuinely taken aback.

“One what?”

“Well, you know. One of them.” Aziraphale gestured towards the playground helplessly. “An offspring, a child.”

“A baby?” Crowley laughed so hard that his sunglasses slid down his nose, revealing his familiar golden eyes. “Hell no! Have you seen our plants, angel? Do you remember Warlock? You want to try out a kid of our own?”

“That’s not what I meant!” Aziraphale let go of Crowley’s hand so that he could cross his arms across his chest. “I just thought that you- that you maybe- you seemed sad,” he finished lamely.

“Sad?” Crowley shrugged, a movement that rolled through his entire body. “Nah.”

Aziraphale gave him a Look and waited.

Crowley lasted five seconds before he spoke again. “Curious, maybe. If anything.”

“Curious?”

“I mean, we’ve been a lot of things. There have been a lot of years. Insurance salesmen, and magicians, and orators, and knights, and all that sort.”

“We have.” Aziraphale still looked back on his magician years with pride, although he couldn’t say the same for knighthood. Too much heavy armour and fainting in the woods.

“But we’ve never been, well, kids.” Crowley’s tone was trying very hard to be casual and wasn’t doing a good job of it.

“That’s true.” A silence fell, with Aziraphale looking at Crowley inquisitively, and Crowley looking at a nearby tree to avoid meeting Aziraphale’s eyes.

Aziraphale was about to ask what Crowley meant, but just as he opened his mouth there was a sharp cry from behind them.

They spun around to see a young boy falling from a nearby tree, hitting a few branches on the way down before landing on the ground with a heavy thump. Both Aziraphale and Crowley started forwards, hands reached out for help, but the boy bounced to his feet before they had taken a full step.

The boy was laughing, and so were his friends above him. He rubbed his back where a root had definitely left a bruise, and then reached for the lowest tree-branch, restarting the climb without a second thought. Their laughter and shouts mingled with the others from the playground.

And there was that look again on Crowley’s face, that heart-wrenching loss and grief.

Aziraphale’s heart pressed against his chest as he reached for Crowley’s hand, stepping forwards to press a quick kiss against the not-quite-demon’s cheek. Aziraphale could tell that this was something that struck deep for Crowley, and even if he didn’t identify with Crowley’s fascination with a human childhood, he couldn’t overlook the desperate longing that he’d found in Crowley’s face.

Crowley smiled and leaned his forehead against Aziraphale’s for a moment. Slowly, they started walking again, leaving the playground behind as they looped back towards the cliffs and the seaside, the serious moment passing.

Still, Aziraphale reflected, if there was any way to give Crowley what he obviously wanted so much, Aziraphale would find it.

--

If there was one thing Aziraphale loved the internet for, it was research. Well, more accurately it was the online auction sites where he could sit for hours bidding on a new book, trying not to curse at the other bidders. He tried to leave the fast-moving internet to Crowley and the hip young people, but it had its uses from time to time.

Crowley gave an arched eyebrow, but didn’t comment when Aziraphale sat down in his reading-chair with a tablet instead of his usual hardcover. The two of them sat beside each other, together in their own spaces, as was their afternoon habit, and tapped away on their separate screens.

Aziraphale was curious: while he and Crowley had been young, they had come into existence before Earthly time was created, and before the idea of growth had really been developed. They had no childhood at all, but surely some humans had nostalgia for their childhoods. Something that they might want to recapture, something that Aziraphale could offer to Crowley.

Regression therapy was the first thing that Aziraphale wandered through pages of research on, but he wasn’t entirely sure how to use it. Crowley had no prior childhood mindset, no natural place of nostalgia or safety to return to. Neither of them, Aziraphale realized, had ever been ‘safe’ in the way a child was supposed to be, never cherished unconditionally nor given the freedom to make mistakes. More and more, he understood the longing that had etched itself into the lines of Crowley’s face on the path by the playground.

Age regression and nostalgia-centered communities gave Aziraphale a bit more to go on, more varied and personal approaches to what it meant to long for a childhood, what it looked like to recreate or reclaim it. Some of the information was definitely relevant, and he found himself bookmarking several pages for later.

Aziraphale made a side-track into age-play communities, but quickly wrote them off. Power dynamics in the bedroom weren’t foreign to him, but Crowley had never shown an interest in any sins of the flesh, not as an active demon and certainly not since the apocalypse. Aziraphale noted some of the nonsexual elements anyways, structures of power and control designed to give a stricter space in which someone could give up responsibility, knowing that punishment was only a foot-stomp away.

He found himself returning to the regression pages, flicking through the various things that people associated with childhood and recreating their childhood mindsets. In his own mind, he was making a list of ideas and questions to bring up whenever it came up again naturally. They had centuries, after all, and there was no rush.

“What are you smiling about over there?” Crowley asked.

Aziraphale glanced up, surprised to know that Crowley had been watching him, and more surprised to feel that his lips were indeed curled into a smile.

Aziraphale opened his mouth to reply and faltered, knowing that Crowley wouldn’t be happy to hear that Aziraphale had been thinking about buying him a snake plushie and wondering exactly how adorable Crowley would be if he fell asleep while holding said plushie.

Crowley’s eyebrows raised even higher at Aziraphale’s silence.

“Are you looking at smut in the living room, angel?” His tone was teasing, and Aziraphale frowned at him.

“No, I was-” Aziraphale sighed and decided to see how Crowley reacted to the truth. “I was researching some things, after what you said the other day.” He paused, and Crowley gestured for him to elaborate. “About being curious, and human childhoods. I had some ideas, but I wanted to look into it first.”

“What did you find?” Crowley asked. Again, that casual veneer over a deep well of mingled interest and anxiety. Aziraphale put his tablet down on his lap and folded his hands over it.

“There are a few approaches to it, from what I saw. Many of them are dependent on human minds and memories, which isn’t applicable to our situation. There are some that explore dynamics of control: finding comfort or pleasure in giving up control to a responsible adult figure, while the other party is forcibly maintained as a child.” Crowley’s mouth screwed up at that, and Aziraphale smiled. “I did assume that wasn’t a direction you wanted to go in. We’ve both had our share of being told what to be, I think.”

Crowley set his tablet down as well, tapping black nails against the metal on the sides. “Is that it?”

“No, I also found some things that were more promising. Communities where the person is more in control of their own regression, and the caregiver is optional. A person who is there to make sure they stay safe while they’re exploring the world as a child. Giving them snacks, and affection, and removing any dangers.”

“Oh.” Crowley’s nails continued tapping. “I don’t know what it would be like.”

“To try being a child?”

“I don’t know what children are supposed to be like.” Crowley glanced up at Aziraphale, and Aziraphale felt a renewed wave of gratefulness that he had stopped wearing his sunglasses in the house. The ability to see the anxiety in Crowley’s amber eyes was more intimate than anything Aziraphale had shared with someone else before. “I won’t be very good at it.”

“My dear, I don’t need you to be anything like a human child,” Aziraphale said. “You can be anything you want to be and I’ll be here for you, I’m sure you know that.”

Crowley dipped his head, directing a badly-suppressed smile towards his knees. “You’re a nightmare, angel. You should write Hallmark cards.”

“Hallmark cards were all your lot,” Aziraphale sniffed, knowing quite well that it was a lie. “I was being sincere.”

“Of course.” Crowley flipped his tablet carelessly onto the floor and scooted over on the couch, a wordless invitation that Aziraphale accepted as soon as it was made. He sat beside Crowley with their legs pressing together and looked at their reflection in the dark screen of the TV in front of them.

“Do you want to try it sometime? I could get you presents, if you wanted. And we could go for a walk around the backyard.” Their cottage was a good way from any other people, the rolling hills stretching between the houses. Aziraphale imagined walking with Crowley, making sure that he didn’t get too close to the cliff edges, and the thought made him smile again. He wouldn’t mind taking closer care of Crowley, if such a thing were permitted now and then. “Or you could try it by yourself, the first few times, and see how it feels.”

“No, I- I think I’d like to try it together. If you would want to.” Crowley bumped his shoulder into Aziraphale’s. “I think it would be easier with someone else sharing the, the same idea. So that I didn’t have to make it up myself from scratch.”

“Of course.” Aziraphale rested an arm on the back of the couch, and Crowley leaned against him. Aziraphale knew that if he reached for Crowley’s hand, his fingers would be chilled. Crowley was still a little bit cold-blooded, glad for every bit of body heat that he could steal from Aziraphale. “It would be my pleasure.”

“Hallmark card,” Crowley muttered again, and Aziraphale gave him a little kiss on the top of his head as punishment.

Unfortunately, Crowley didn’t seem to mind much at all.

[gayestnerdsinfiction]

Good Omens Prompt: "I can't help you if you won't let me."

my first attempt at a good omens fic!

Crawly lies sprawled atop a large,flat rock, basking in the light of the midday sun. His tousled curls areflopped lazily across his scalp. He stares up at the sun in all its brilliance,feeling nothing more than unusually cold and excessively bored. He hadn’trealized that the whole rebellion thing would wind up being so dreadfully dull.Though, it’s not like Heaven was exactly a hub of excitement. He sighs,wondering if the fall was worth all the trouble. He’s been doing a lot ofwondering lately.

A shadow blocks out the sun and hesquints, sitting up halfway to see who turned out the lights. “Ah,” he says,reclining against the rock once more. “It’s you.”

“So you do remember me,” Aziraphalesays. “I thought, after last time—well, I suppose it doesn’t matter now.” Heclears his throat delicately, moving away from the sun and into Crawly’s fieldof vision. “What are you doing out here in the middle of the desert?”

Crawly waves a long fingered handnonchalantly. “Relaxing,” he answers, despite not feeling relaxed in theslightest. “Enjoying my newfound freedom.”

He purses his lips, seeming quietlyoffended by his choice of phrasing. “Of all the places on Earth to relax,” hesays under his breath. “Look, I’m here on business, so I can’t have youor… or your people mucking things up.”

“What business could you possiblybe conducting out here?” Crawly drawls. “There’s nothing for miles. Exceptlittle old me, of course.” He lets his head loll to one side, gazing up atAziraphale with his unblinking yellow eyes. “Don’t tell me you came all thisway just to pester me.”

“Nothing of the sort,” he replieswith a little indignant huff. “There’s a miracle that needs performing for aman who should come through here any day now. Something about a well and somesheep. Very important, obviously.” He narrows his eyes, looking suspiciously atCrawly. “You haven’t been sent to thwart me, have you?”

Crawly scoffs. “Please. I’m not anangel anymore, angel. No one sends me anywhere.” This was, in fact, entirelyuntrue. As much as Crawly wanted Aziraphale to believe that his new life ofdamnation was all sunshine and free will, it ended up being a pretty lateralmove. He was still a pencil pushing pawn being used in service of some GreatPlan that he couldn’t be bothered to care about. The fact of the matter was hehad been sent to this region to whisper temptations in the Pharaoh’s ear. Itwas, as he had been told, a very important job. But Crawly did not feel veryimportant for having done it.

Aziraphale, once again, looksoffended. But there is something else in his expression, something almost toosubtle to place. Disappointment? “Don’t you miss it?” he asks, lowering hisvoice as if worried about eavesdroppers. “Don’t you miss being good? Just alittle bit? I mean, you seem to be having a lovely time, er… relaxing, as youput it, but—well, didn’t it feel good to have a purpose?”

Crawly sits up abruptly, bristlingat the accusation. “I have a purpose,” he grumbles, trying his best not tosound pouty. “And, what’s more, I didn’t need anyone else to give it to me. Soyou can take that holier than thou attitude and… and… get rid of it. I don’t know.But I do know that I don’t need you to tell me I’m somehow better off onyour side.”

He doesn’t respond right away. Hefusses with his crisp, white robe, smoothing and adjusting it almost nervously.“It’s not what you hoped for, is it?” he asks after a while, his tonesoftening.

Crawly feels something inside himsink and he looks away. Was he really so miserable that even an angel asoblivious as this one could see it? “It’s not so bad,” he says unconvincingly. “Just…a bit more tedious than I anticipated.”

Aziraphale nods knowingly. “Thingsoften are, once you get down to it.”

He studies the angel. Despite hiscomposure and overwhelmingly prim manner, he seems wearier than an angelshould. His eyes aren’t quite as bright as Crawly remembers from their firstfew encounters, and his face seems to sag a little as he looks at Crawly. Hescoots to one side of the rock. “If you’re going to be out here for dayswaiting to enact your little miracle, you might as well sit.”

He hesitates, eyeing the spaceCrawly had made for him. “It’s a bit… dusty.”

Crawly rolls his eyes but, with aswish of his hand, shoos the dust away. “Better?”

Aziraphale smiles, eyes crinklingat the corners. “Well, it’s nice to see that some demons still have manners,”he says, taking a seat beside Crawly. “There’s hope for you yet.” He remainspoised and proper, folding his hands neatly in his lap as he sits. But he doesseem to relax a little. And perhaps Crawly relaxes a little too.

“You know,” the angel begins,lowering his voice yet again, “I could put in a good word for you. Upstairs, ifyou know what I mean.” He says this with a shy glance up at the sky.

Crawly heaves a sigh of annoyance. “Youangels always find a way to ruin everything,” he mutters. “It’s very good ofyou to offer, but I don’t need any favors. I’m doing quite alright right here,thank you very much.”

“Oh, come on Crawly,”Aziraphale says, frustration disrupting his carefully crafted demeanor. Up untilthis moment, Crawly hadn’t really been sure the angel even knew his name. “Justadmit that falling wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, and it’s not actuallyany more fun or worthwhile than being on our side—the winning side, Imight add—and just… stop being so stubborn about the whole thing. And then youmight be able to come home.”

“I’m not being stubborn.”

“Oh, yes you are, you absolutelyare!”

“If anyone’s being stubborn it’syou, angel.”

Aziraphale turns his nose up at thecomment. “I don’t know the meaning of the word,” he says piously.

“Shouldn’t be so quick to throw itaround, then, should you?” he mutters, sounding very much like a petulantchild.

He gives Crawly a look, demonstratingthat he, too, realizes how childish the argument is. “Look,” he says carefully,“I can’t help you if you won’t let me.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I don’t needany help, then.” Crawly sticks his forked tongue out, flicking it rudely at Aziraphale. Perhaps he’s not quite through being petulant after all. “Have fun with your miracle but, as it turns out, I’m needed elsewhere.”

“I thought you said no one sendsyou anywhere anymore.”

“They don’t!” he splutters. “I’m—it’snot—I’m sending myself!” And, with an exasperated groan, he transports himselfto the other side of the continent. “For an angel, he’s quite a bit of abastard,” he grumbles to himself, beginning to trudge in what he thinks is thedirection of a city. “Really, it’s the only thing that makes him halfway tolerable.”

[capnseafeather]

Artemis squealed as she ran down the street as quickly as her five-year-old legs would let her. She had to get away from the most terrifying thing in the world: the tickle bugs. A few of the people around–all the old people, atleast as old as Poppa–were laughing at her, and she giggled as she ran looking for a place to hide. It wasn’t long before, within all of the townsfolk of the Fire-Ninja village, she spotted a familiar face. Picking up speed, the young child ran to the tall, casually dressed man. Once she had accomplished her short race, Artemis bent over and gasped for breath, putting her hands on her knees and her back against the same wall as the friend she had run to as she did so.

The man chuckled as he leaned over and ruffled her long, silver hair. “Now, what have we here?” he inquired in a cool, flowing voice that made more than one head turn in their direction. Artemis, after noticing the effect of the adult’s voice almost immediately, squirmed and ran and hid behind his jean leg. The man followed her actions with an amused expression, and grinned down at her as he continued. “Another run away, perhaps?”

Artemis, frustrated at the amused tone the man had taken with her, gave him a stern look–past his dark hair that had fallen into his face and straight into his ruby-colored eyes. She put one hand on her hip and, while she dusted the…well, dust off of her black-and-red skirt, she took a deep breath. “Mister Dredmir!” she scolded, “Poppa’s gonna get me! You need to stay so I can hide, okay?” The child finished her self-cleansing, and looked up into the man’s eyes, an quick answer expected in her mind.

Dred flashed the girl a smile, perfectly pointed fangs gleaming in the sunlight, and gave her a small bow. “As you wish, m'lady.” Artemis wrinkled her nose at him in distaste, then decided otherwise, giggled, and ran into the building behind him, peeking out of the window. Dred chuckled, and turned his attention to the not-so-deserted street in front of him, waiting for the child’s pursuer to come running down the street in a panic, looking for his lost daughter.

******************************************************

As if the mere thought summoned him, a man came huffing up the street, waving back to the people around him and searching with his golden-colored eyes. He spots Dred and makes his way over, sweeping his dark hair out of his face and leaned against Dred, commenthing to the vampire, “Nice day to be out, isn’t it?” He grins as he hears a giggle from the building behind them and sees the swish of silver hair in the window.

Dred smiles. “Well, my pale-skinned friend, I think it sure is. I’ve heard some really scary news though!” He watches as Artemis peeks out from the window and chuckles. Taking his voice level down (but still loud enough for the five year old to hear), he continues. “I hear there are…TICKLE BUGS…out and about…” Artemis squeals from inside, and Dred laughs as he pulls close to his heavy-breathing friend. “Looking for someone, James?” he asks, offering a hand to his fallen comrade.

James takes the hand pulls himself up, smiling. “Yeah, she got away from me. Who knew five year olds could be so fast?” He laughs, looking back at the small child as her head peeks out from the window again. “Thanks for being here to make sure no one else got to her,” he sighed, running his hand through his hair. “Katara would have my head on a platter if I were to lose her ‘darling little angel.’” The man walked into the home, and a roar followed by lots of laughing and “poppa, stop it!” ’s is heard throughout the area. Eventually, when both had become exhausted from such large amounts of play, the two walked out, James throwing Artemis into the air and catching the giggling child. As he threw her in the air, he grinned and finished, “But, no matter what mamma says, you’ll always bepoppa’s baby angel, right?” Artemis giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck, snuggling into his chest. It was then the father and daughter walked away, James calling out to Dred behind his shoulder, “Hey, let Seth know you both are invited to dinner!”

The vampire chuckled as he watched the two leave. “Such a nice family…” he sighs, kicking a rock. Dred grinned darkly, looked back at the happy twosome leaving, and laughed similarly. “…it’s a pity their meager, happy go lucky lives must soon come to an unpleasant end.”

Dred finished chuckling darkly to himself right as another young man strode up, putting a hand on his comrade’s shoulder and taking a deep breath. He was roughly the same height as the vampire and every bit as muscular–though a bit paler in comparison, and as he spoke to Dred, he has his usual easy-going yet watchful expression about him. “So Dred–”

The man began to speak, but was cut off before he could finish by the vampire. “Yes, Seth,” Dred sighed. “I have seen James–I was just talking to him.”

Seth grinned a little bit wider. “How’d you know that’s what I was going to ask? Use some of your bloodsucker powers or something?” he asked, and he laughed as Dred rolled his eyes. “Nah, I saw you guys a little while back. Was that his pride and joy with him?”

Dred sighed. “You mean the pain that he’s finally letting out into the normal world? Yes, that was Artemis. She seems to be enjoying her time outdoors quite a bit–as a child her age should. Yet I tend to wonder why they kept her indoors and away from all of the village folk for so long.” He raised an eyebrow at the man, who had just leaned against the wall and was polishing an apple with his shirt. “Any ideas?” he inquired.

Seth frowned slightly, and he looked around cautiously. “Well,” he began carefully, “there have been rumors…about the prophecy coming true. And their family is the only in which it would even be possible…” He shook his head. “It’s all just rumors, though.”

The vampire raised his eyebrows in mock curiosity. “Prophecy?” he inquired.

The man looked around carefully once again. “You know the prophecy. We had it drilled into us–all four of us did–while we were training at the Ninja Academy.” At Dred’s still confused look, he sighed. “Fine,” Seth replied as he got up, “If you need to be refreshed on the most vital of lessons, let’s at least go somewhere where we won’t be overheard, shall we?” Dred nodded, and after going into the nearby building and checking every corner and window for eavesdroppers, Seth sat across from his vampiric friend. “Alright. So the prophecy of the one creature that is going to one day be the demonic demise of us all. Where to begin…”