Romantic expectations and the story we didn't see: A magic trick hiding in plain sight
Here's a hopeful meta for all my fellow celestial brainrot sufferers out there. Cheers! :)
This idea started as a dead end, trying to track the movements of Crowley’s sideburns/tattoo because I thought time travel shenanigans were afoot. I had to abandon that theory when it was pointed out that David was simultaneously filming as the sideburns-having Fourteenth Doctor, and in-universe Crowley can do whatever he wants with his facial hair whenever he feels like it. But hey - null findings are still findings!
On the bright side, pausing the show to make notations in a spreadsheet forced me to slow down and notice other changes I'd overlooked the first time around: acting choices, costuming choices, references to book lore. And possibly a few surreptitious flicks of the wrist, in places where we’re meant to be focused on the magician’s other hand.
@amuseoffyre and @ineffablefood had a great exchange recently about romance and “the significance of misdirection and three-in-one (magic) tricks” throughout the show. I suspect Neil has done something brilliant with the audience’s long-standing expectations (since the 1990s, really) for the love story between Crowley and Aziraphale to develop. And while it is a wonderful story indeed, playing to this expectation lets Neil distract his audience from the blink-and-you'll-miss-them seeds he's planting for the final chapter.
Continued below the cut...
Let’s start at the beginning of Episode 2. First, context: In the previous installment, Crowley stormed out of the bookshop, was whisked away to Hell by Beelzebub where he learns about the Book of Life threat to Aziraphale’s existence, then returned to the bookshop to dance a little apology dance and hide Gabriel with an unintentionally massive joint miracle. In S2E2, we and Shax catch up with Crowley as he's snoozing in the Bentley.
Shax: “You’re in trouble”
A. J. Crowley, cool as a cucumber: “Obviously. Former demon, hated by Heaven, loathed by Hell. How will our hero cope?”
Interesting! Sarcastic? Yes, absolutely; but that’s also a good 4500 years and an averted apocalypse away from “I’m a demon. I lie,” wouldn’t you say? Someone is sounding a whole lot less depressed and aimless and navel-gazey (do snakes have navels?), and a whole lot more like he’s got a project to focus on, since his "what's the point?" ruminations on the park bench in E1.
And of course we all noticed the costume change right away. Hello, black turtleneck. Feeling cute today, thought I’d cover up my graceful long neck? That sounds unlikely. Let’s put a pin in this one.
There’s also an interesting acting choice going on here. Crowley speaks to Shax in a funny, drawling, too-cool-for-you voice that we haven’t heard in a while. Specifically, not since 1967. If you go back and give the S1E3 scene in the Dirty Donkey a listen, you’ll hear it (and if you know of another instance of it that I've missed, please let me know!). In S2E2, he keeps up this odd voice (if anybody knows what kind of affect this is supposed to be, please do tell!) throughout this dialogue with Shax, except for the brief moment when she first surprises him about the joint miracle having been detected.
1967 was a fun year. Crowley masterminded a heist! And seemed like he was having a ball doing it, right up until his little caper was called off after Aziraphale brought him the thermos of holy water. Crowley spoke to his co-conspirators in that same funny, very 60’s-caper-film voice. He wore a hip 60’s turtleneck. He bought petrol for the only time ever, so he could get those sweet James Bond bullet hole decals for his car (per the book, seen on the Bentley in the show).
Those James Bond bullet hole decals would of course have been part of a promotion for this 1967 release, which you just know our film-enjoying demon went to see in the theater:
Starring this suave, be-turtlenecked guy:
And now - begging your forgiveness - a brief rant.
There are a number of posts out there that refer to Crowley’s S2E2 turtleneck as a flirtatious sartorial choice - actually, ‘slutty’ seems to be the favored accusation. There are even a few posts floating around commenting on how sweet it is that Crowley swaps out his slutty, kinky, throw-me-over-your-desk-and-take-me turtleneck for a more dressy and appropriate collared shirt specifically to attend Aziraphale’s Jane Austen ball.
Now this is all in good fun, and Crowley does indeed look fantastic here, and I do love a good fangirling sesh as much as the next person. However, fandom’s collective tendency to interpret what we are seeing on the screen through the lens of romantic expectation can, at times, give rise to a kind of blinkered enthusiasm that obscures the original text in a haze that is part Mandela Effect, part unrestrained horniness, and part in-group code talking and identity reinforcement.
Respectfully, Crowley’s black turtleneck does not appear at all in S2E5: The Ball. In fact, it never appears again after the end of S2E2.
For Someone’s sake, let’s collectively pull our heads out of the romantic fog/gutter for a moment and focus on what we are actually seeing in the book and on the screen. For Crowley, this is an uncharacteristic within-period costume change. There is a surreptitious flick of the wrist happening here, out in broad daylight, and we are all missing it.
So here’s a thing. Aziraphale appears to have settled comfortably into life on Earth, his neighborhood, his books, using Crowley as an outlet for sharing his good deeds that he would once have reported to Heaven. Meanwhile, at first glance, Crowley appears stuck in a rut. There he slouches on a park bench with Shax in S2E1: a guy who lives in his car, stagnantly clinging to old familiar habits, mulling over the pointlessness of it all.
Setting aside the bit about living in the Bentley (I’m going to attribute this to well-documented issues between him and Aziraphale, discussed in many other excellent metas, and move on), Crowley has at least two very good, proactive reasons for maintaining his contact with Hell through Shax. First and foremost, it’s a source of information he can use to keep ahead of potential threats to Aziraphale and himself.
But also, I would posit…he kinda likes it.
Recall that book GO was first conceived as a parody, with Aziraphale and Crowley as spy-against-spy (but not really) field operatives in an ages-old cold war between Heaven and Hell. Their entire book dynamic is rooted in the trope of two opposing agents who have been in the field for so long that they now have more in common with each other than with their respective head offices. Their St. James’s Park meetings among other spies and ministers trading secrets are a sendup of what was once a well-known Cold War-era cliché.
Our contemporary Crowley still likes slick outfits and hellaciously expensive watches and high-performing vintage cars and pens that write underwater while looking like they could break the speed limit. He coaches Shax on how to blend in as a demon on Earth, and he helpfully redirects the wayward contact looking for the Azerbaijani sector chief. He loves improvising and getting away with shenanigans under the institutional radar. And boy golly was he impressed with Jane Austen: master spy, brandy smuggler, and mastermind of the 1810 Clerkenwell Diamond Robbery.
And if you look at it a certain way, for as long as Crowley has considered himself to be on “[his] own side” - going at least as far back as Job - he could almost think of himself as a sort of double agent. It’s actually a very romantic sort of notion, befitting our hopeless romantic of a (professedly former) demon; but it’s romantic in a very different way than we, the audience, have been primed to watch for.
In other words, in a very “on my own side” kind of way, Crowley really gets a kick out of being a spy. Or at least, dressing up and accessorizing as one, and moonlighting as a good-doing double agent when he can get away with it. And also being a plotting criminal mastermind. Two sides of a coin, really. Just look at Jane Austen.
My point is: No, Crowley did not wait around for Shax to come find him in a turtleneck so that he could go flirt with Aziraphale later. He’ll flirt with Aziraphale no matter what. No, this:
is actually this:
Much like the one he wears to the Dirty Donkey in 1967:
whilst holy water heist-plotting. Here's a clearer shot with gratuitous Bentley, because I love them:
…and which he'll wear again, with appropriate camouflage, while infiltrating Heaven in S2E6:
That is the 1967 planning a HEIST turtleneck for committing ESPIONAGE and STEALING THINGS in. Because turtlenecks are what modern human master spies wear to get their hands dirty - after all, he saw it in a movie once.
Crowley dons his tactical turtleneck sometime during the first major break in the action (which doesn't happen until after the joint miracle to hide Gabriel) after he learns about the threat the Book of Life poses to Aziraphale. Loverboy started mentally preparing himself to go after that book immediately upon learning that it was in play as a genuine threat.
Now let’s pick up at the S2E2 Dirty Donkey scene, reading the story from this angle. Of course, Crowley enables Aziraphale’s delusions about Heaven by hiding information from him, and does not disclose the Book of Life threat when they meet again. They go into the pub, Aziraphale shamelessly paws Crowley’s chest like the seductive Bond Girl he is, and Crowley gets to act all smooth and suave and intimidating as he chases off the interloping Mr. Brown (or Mr. Collins for the Pride & Prejudice fans, take your pick).
Ergo, theory: beginning in S2E2, Crowley is already thinking of himself as a Jane Austen/James Bond action hero (“How will our hero cope?”), psyching himself up to rescue Aziraphale by getting his spy game on and stealing the Book of Life.
Now, watch closely...This is where Aziraphale and Crowley brainstorm their plans to solve the problem they both know about: getting Maggie and Nina to fall in love and thereby get Heaven off their backs. Crowley’s vavoom plan is drawn from yet another movie (“Get humans wet and staring into each other’s eyes - vavoom, sorted. I saw it in a Richard Curtis film.”). But Crowley also implicitly shares his solution to the problem he hasn’t told Aziraphale about. And true to form, Crowley’s Jane Austen solution isn’t the same as Aziraphale’s Jane Austen solution.
Two solutions that fail by the end of Season 2, and a secret third one that might still work...and there's our magic trick of three.
‘“I’m lost. Am I doing a rainstorm?” Yes, babe. And a heist, too - just not until season three. Can I get a wahoo!?
I won’t spend time on A Companion to Owls during this meta, except to note that in all three minisodes, we get to watch stories that involve Crowley acting as a double agent on “his/their own side” - successfully making Hell and Heaven think he’s fulfilling their will while saving Job’s goats and children; failing to fool Hell when he does a good deed in Edinburgh; and of course, collaborating with Aziraphale whilst evading detection as an infernal turncoat during the Blitz.
(Because this is getting long, I'll also skip over Crowley's interrogation of Jim in this episode - I'll probably come back to that in another meta. But interrogating is a rather spy-ish thing to do.)
When we catch up with Crowley again later, he’s already slipped out of the bookshop, having left Aziraphale to his biblical reverie about Job. He saunters snakily down Whickber Street as usual, but with a very pointed and swift glance over his shoulder (see pic above). This demon is up to something - possibly something we didn’t get to see, something that may have happened offscreen while he stepped out. In any case, knowing there’ve been unfriendly angels in the neighborhood that morning, he’s rightly concerned about being spied on.
From this point until the beginning of episode six, there isn’t a whole lot of opportunity for Crowley to make any next moves. He babysits the bookshop, during which time he manages to wring some crucial information out of Jim; he follows his Crowley’s Angel around like a puppy, and downs a bottle of red like a good old fashioned lovesick boy once that’s been pointed out to him. If any plotting or scheming is underway, this occult being is keeping stumm for now.
This has been a long one, so I’ll wrap up with Crowley’s infiltration of Heaven with Muriel. The turtleneck disguise works (Archer fans, be vindicated!) long enough to gather some information that will be crucial not just to the denouement of S2, but also to Crowley’s journey in S3 (previous post on Crowley's Fall, Saraqael, and memory wiping). And Aziraphale gets to enjoy that view exactly zero times. The point isn’t oh, a turtleneck! How flirty! So cunty! So cute! Y’all. Everything matters. The costume change was a deliberate choice. In-universe, Crowley’s decision to wear his special spy turtleneck for spying in is a signal that he is out doing spy things, even as we watch.
In sum: Beginning in S2E2 and continuing through the end of the season, Aziraphale and Crowley are actively living out the scripts of two parallel, concurrent, and completely different Jane Austen stories. But you and I, dear fellow audience member, we came here for a comedy with a hefty jigger of romance, and that’s what Neil gave us to focus on. And right up until the Final 15, that was the only story we saw.
Meanwhile, Special Agent A. J. Crowley doesn’t have time to mope around at the end of S2E6. He’s kicked down, but he’s not out. He's got a Book of Life to steal, a very serious bone to pick with a certain memory-wiping angel, and his Angel and the world to save.
“‘Heigh ho,’ said [romantic, optimist, former demon, hero, master spy] Anthony Crowley, and just drove anyway.”
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TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN
-PART NINE
Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Seraphim Angel! Fem! Reader
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Genre: Angst (for now)
Warnings: family trauma/lore
Notes: TSOTSC finally reached 20k words, yippee!
PART ONE | PART EIGHT | PART TEN | NAVIGATION
Azrael looked at the female angel beside him, noticing the lovestruck expression on the girl's face. He looked at her with a deadpanned expression, lips pressed together in a thin line.
Azrael's deep black eyes followed her line of sight, landing on a light blond haired short male angel with rosy spots on his cheeks, Lucifer. Azrael grimaced, watching as Lucifer talked with Michael, Lucifer's twin brother.
Azrael can hear a satisfied sigh left [Y/n]'s lips, Azrael still doesn't know why the girl is so lovestruck with the guy. Lucifer's curiosity is a looming threat, everyone in the high council of angels can feel it but they can't do anything about it as the said angel hasn't done anything yet.
Azrael sighs, grabbing the cloud pillow off the couch so he could sit beside her, the cushioned seat sinking as he sat down. He nudges her, catching her attention.
“I still don't understand what you see on that guy.” he deadpans at her and [Y/n] rolls her eyes at the taller male.
“Do you want me to take out my 50 slide presentation again on why I like him so much?” [Y/n] asked with a raised eyebrow and Azrael flinched, raising his hands in defeat.
“No, thank you.” He mumbled, shuddering as he remembers the time she presented those slides to him, which he still didn't understand why she liked the boy so much. He was zoned out during all of the presentation.
Azrael sighs, chest heavy and tight. He doesn't understand why. The thought of his best friend getting married to someone else hurt for some reason.
“Make sure you won't regret it, you're getting married to him soon.” He deadpans and [Y/n] just laughed, “I won't. He won't do anything to hurt me.” she said confidently.
Azrael rolls his eyes playfully, “You seem confident with that statement.”
[Y/n] scoffs playfully, “Because I know him.”
“Do you really know him?” Azrael retorts back, raising an eyebrow at her. [Y/n] flinches slightly, Azrael is right. She's still 25 years old and so is Lucifer, they're both very young. They still have lots to learn about each other.
It doesn't matter, Lucifer loves her and she loves him back. They have an entire eternity to know each other.
With a long exhale, she turned to look at Azrael, “Maybe I may not know him entirely but I will be able to.”
Azrael just sighs, shaking his head, “Whatever you say [n/n], but if he does something... Don't tell me I didn't tell you so.” he chuckled and [Y/n] rolls her eyes playfully at him, nudging Azrael playfully.
“Hey, I know him. He's my best friend and we've known each other the moment we existed.”
Azrael scoffs playfully at her words, “Who knows? People change.” he says, crossing his arms over his chest. [Y/n] avoided his gaze and turned to look back at Lucifer who seems to notice her.
Lucifer gave her a wink and a charming smile, sending her a kiss to her way causing for her to blush and giggle.
Azrael rolled his eyes at the scene.
“They do and I hope he changes to become a better version of himself.”
After getting married to Lucifer, life felt good. Lucifer treated her so well, bringing her flowers everyday, giving her affections in every chance he gets.
Everything was fine until God created the first ever humans, [Y/n] knows how much of a curious man Lucifer is, naturally, he went out to observe them.
It created cracks in their relationship.
Lucifer began to go home later than usual, occasionally forgetting to give her affections.
And their topics—his topics have now shifted to God's newly created creature, a woman named Lilith.
[Y/n] had to endure the pain and heartache as she listens to her husband talk so fondly about the woman, complimenting Lilith in every possible chance he gets.
But nevertheless, [Y/n] remained to have confidence in him. Choosing to trust him, he is her husband after all. They've been together for many eons, she knows him.
Does she?
No, she doesn't.
Especially on what she's currently witnessing, [Y/n] hid between a large tree in the garden of Eden. She had the urge to check up on Lucifer, her instinct was screaming for her to do so.
Her nails are buried in the bark of the tree, ichor flows out of her fingertips as she tries to prevent a sob from escaping her lips. The wooden sensation of the wood against her fingertips, the stinging pain of the scratched skin of the tips of her fingers is what she felt.
With the additional sensation of the aching feeling that came from where her heart lies.
Warmth slid down her cheeks, bringing her gold covered fingertips to feel her skin.
Tears, the tears never seem to stop running down her beautiful yet sorrowful face.
Her eyes locked on to her husband, Lucifer—who looked at Lilith with so much affection in his eyes as he held the woman's hand.
‘Why... Why is he looking at her like how he used to look at me...?’
[Y/n] asked herself repeatedly in her mind. Each word got louder and louder on her mind, and each time she did, pain became more apparent to her internal voice as she asked herself in anguish.
‘Move... I need to leave... Move [Y/n]!’ she cried to herself, her mind screaming for her to leave. To save herself from even more heartbreak.
Yet, she remained still. Eyes fixed on the two.
Her hands slapped over her mouth to prevent sobs from escaping her plump and soft lips, eyelashes fluttering and glistening with tears. Warm sunlight filtering through the strands of her eyelashes, making the redness around her eyes more prominent.
Dull [e/c] eyes blankly staring at the two—her husband and a different woman.
Despite its dullness, her eyes were filled with anguish.
Tired, dull, and swollen.
No longer bright, hopeful, and happy. It's now filled with sorrow, and unimaginable heartache. Something an angel like her shouldn't feel. Yet, Lucifer Morningstar made that possible.
[Y/n] watches as her husband caresses Lilith's face, so affectionately.
Something she didn't experience from him lately.
“You're so beautiful.”
She heard him mutter to Lilith with a voice that carried so much emotion, it was enough to shatter her heart to tiny million pieces.
Finally gathering enough strength, she finally released herself from where she stood. Finally allowing herself to move, flying away swiftly and discreetly.
A single feather was what was left of where she once stood.
She arrived at her shared home with Lucifer, quickly locking herself inside their bedroom.
Her body slouches against the door as she slowly slides down to the floor.
Painful sobs left her lips, shoulders shaking as she buried her face into her hands.
‘No, no, no, no, no... I must be seeing things... Lucifer can't just fall in love with someone that easy...’ she laughs to herself, voice cracking and trembling as she did so.
Shaking her head as she desperately tries to make herself believe her own words.
“This must be a misunderstanding, that's right... I'll ask him when... When he comes back...”
She says to herself, voice lowering to almost a whisper.
‘That is... If he comes home...’
She thought sadly, supporting her shoulder on to her knees, burying her face into her arms. Strands of her hair falling off to the side of her face, framing the heartbreaking picture of the face that belongs to a heartbroken angel.
‘He can't just... Leave me like that... He can't just break our vows.’
She thought to herself, her hands rubbing her sides for comfort.
She only has herself to comfort herself, her husband isn't here after all.
“When he comes back, the two of us will have a proper and mature conversation... I hope.” she says to herself weakly, picking herself up from the floor. Knees tremble from the weight of her emotions, chest filled with pain and heartache. She can barely breathe, she wonders if she was still breathing.
She felt like a walking corpse.
Wiping her eyes with the sleeves of her dress, the soft material of her dress providing comfort to her swollen and aching eyes.
She dragged herself across the room, finally approaching the full length mirror just by their closet.
She can see how much of a mess she is. Eye bags underneath her eyes, tear streaks evident on her cheeks, her hair a mess. Pale skin and chapped lips from severe dehydration from how much she cried.
‘Is that me...?’ She asked herself, finally processing what she's seeing, finally coming to the realization that the figure in the mirror is her own reflection.
She can barely recognize herself, she doesn't look like that. She doesn't remember looking so tired and so... Sad and pathetic.
‘This wouldn't do, I don't want Lucifer to see me like this..’ she thought to herself sadly, the face of Lilith flashing in her mind.
Lilith, the first ever human woman. Of course, someone as beautiful as her would be someone Lucifer would fancy.
[Y/n] couldn't help but compare herself to the woman. Lilith has bright and blemish pale skin, hers were a sickly kind of pale.
Lilith has bright and hopeful eyes, hers are dull and sad.
Lilith has a beautiful and blemish free face, hers are tired and dark bags are underneath her eyes.
[Y/n] shakes her head, getting rid of the negative thoughts that filled her mind.
“Stop that, Lucifer loved you just the way you are.” she says to herself, yet doubt was evident in her voice.
‘Loved. That's right, he probably doesn't love me anymore.’
She shakes her head once more, ‘Stop that, he hasn't told us that yet... So I shouldn't say something like that...’
‘I'll just clean myself first, make myself presentable. In case he ever comes home.’
She says to herself, dragging herself to the bathroom to freshen up.
He never came home that day.
She lies on their shared bed, coming to that realization as the clock finally hit one in the morning. The bed was cold and lonely, the warmth that was usually beside her isn't present.
Closing her eyes, allowing the tears to glide down her pale cheeks, the tears staining the pillowcase of her pillow.
Past memories flash on her mind, memories of where Lucifer and her were still happy and in love.
“You are my best friend, the love of my life... I am so lucky to be called yours.” Lucifer says to her, kissing her forehead.
They were still teens in love, young and stupid but in love.
“You are so cheesy, stop saying cheesy things you're making me flustered.” she giggles as he twirls her around, bits of the clouds around them fluttering due to their movements.
Lucifer giggles, dipping her effortlessly and presses his forehead against his, “But it's my job to make you flustered, darling.”
She giggles, pink dusting her cheeks, “I love you, Lucifer.”
“I love you too, darling.”
She cried herself to sleep that night.
She sat on the couch of their living room, the early sunlight filtering through the large windows of their home, giving their home some warmth. The warmth makes her forget the coldness of her skin and the numbness of her heart.
Her head whipped to the sound of the door being opened, lo and behold, her husband finally came home.
Her eyebrows furrowed, eye twitching. She was aching to snap at him but she took a deep breath and calmed herself down.
“Lucifer, where have you been?” she asked softly, voice cracking and trembling in each syllable.
Lucifer flinches, jumping slightly from surprise. He was surprised to hear his wife's voice. He didn't expect her to be awake so early in the morning.
He gave her a nervous smile, “Darling, why are you awake so early?” he asked, [Y/n] just continuously tapped her feet against the marble tiles.
“Enough of that, I know you have been spending time with that human.” she says softly and Lucifer's eyes widened, avoiding his wife's eyes because of guilt.
“It's part of my job, love—”
“Stop lying to me, Lucifer Morningstar.” she snaps, eyes glaring at him, “I didn't know telling her that she's beautiful is part of the job? Might I also include... Caressing her face? Was that part of the job? Tell me, Lucifer...”
“Are you tired of me...?” she asked softly, and Lucifer's eyes saddened.
“No, no, no... I can never be tired of you...” he says softly, he's unsure if he's lying to himself or not. But he desperately tries to believe that he's not tired of her. Yes, he still loves her... Right?
He doesn't know the answer to that.
“Then why...?! Why are you spending the majority of your time with her?!” she screamed, her voice filled with anguish as she grips her hair. She swore she ripped some strands but she's too much in pain to care.
Lucifer's eyes widened, surprised by her outburst.
“Because I'm trying to make her feel better because Adam hasn't been good to her and I hope you can find it in your heart to care for her just a little.” he says softly, remembering the things Lilith told him, how Adam was mean to her.
[Y/n]'s eye twitch, the nerve. Why would she care about her?
“Why would I care about her?!” she asked angrily, and Lucifer frowned, “Because I care about her.” he says honestly, annoyance evident in his voice.
“Morning, noon, and night I care about her, yet you cannot spare a single sympathy for her.”
[Y/n] was taken aback, the first time sensing such hostility from him. Her husband defending another woman when all she ever asked from him is his time, some time for her.
“I'm just asking why you're spending so much time with her! I am your wife, Lucifer... I need you too!” She exclaimed, her voice cracking in anguish, “You're barely home anymore and it's getting unbearably lonely in our house, I missed you so, so much... Please.. I need you.”
“For heaven's sake, [Y/n]... Lilith just existed and she's scared and confused and Adam is also not treating her right! She needs someone.” He sighs, blue eyes looking at tired [e/c] ones, he would've asked for her forgiveness for his tone, but he was blind with the sense of duty towards Lilith. He couldn't think straight. Neither of them can.
“So stop being selfish, I'll come back when you have cleared your head, okay...?” he says softly yet a tinge of sharpness in his voice, turning around to leave, his heels clicking against the marbled tiles in each step he took.
The sound of the door clicking as he closed it brought her back to reality.
Her legs gave out as she fell into the cold hard marble floor, kneeling like heaven's first ever sinner. Her sin? Falling in love with heaven's most beautiful angel.
Blinking, she tries to process what just happened.
She and Lucifer just had their very first fight, and she doesn't know how to process it.
‘Azrael was right, I really don't know him at all.’
She thought to herself sadly, wiping her tears with her wrist before a broken sob escaped her lips once more.
She was left alone crying to herself in an empty, cold, and lonely house.
Days passed by, both Lucifer and [Y/n] were ignoring each other, unsure how to approach the other.
[Y/n] remained unmoving in their bed, all alone and cold. It's been so long since she last took care of herself.
“I feel so tired and weak... Heaven's... I feel like I'm about to pass out.” she murmured weakly, turning around to look at the empty spot of her shared bed with Lucifer, to see the said man to be nowhere in sight. He hasn't been home for a few days now.
‘I am so tired... Maybe I should rest for a bit...’ she thought, her eyesight blurring from the lack of sleep, she kept waiting for Lucifer's return but the man was nowhere in sight.
She sighs sadly, her eyes drooping without notice.
She passed out.
She doesn't know how long she was asleep but the moment she woke up she was in Azrael's house, the man told her that she was asleep for days.
And also told her about the fall of both Lucifer and Lilith.
She still couldn't wrap her head around it, refusing to believe it.
Azrael sighs, taking a seat at the edge of the bed of where she was lying down.
“It's true, he and Lilith gave the apple to Eve... I'm afraid work is going to get much harder now that evil exists.” he spoke softly, eyes saddened as he looked at the downcast female.
He's wondering if this is the right time to tell her...
“And another thing... [Y/n]...?” he calls out softly to her, she looks at him with not a single light on her eyes.
“What is it...?”
“You're pregnant.” he says softly, [y/n]'s eyes widened.
“What...?”
[Y/n] gasped loudly as she sat up on the bed, her head whipping around to look at her surroundings.
She's back in her room, weren't she in hell before?
Her breathing was uneven, placing a hand over her chest to calm her fast beating heart.
‘Why now...? Why did the memory have to come back now...?’
Tears were cascading down her cheeks, pitiful sobs leaving her lips.
“Mom...?” a soft male voice calls out, the door to the room opening, the head of Xavier peeking through the small opening.
The boy's eyes widened when he saw his mother crying on her bed.
“MOM...?! ARE YOU ALRIGHT?! ARE YOU HURT SOMEWHERE?!” he asked, immediately rushing to his mother's side, kneeling beside the bed.
[Y/n] shakes her head slowly, “I'm alright, I just got a bad dream...” she admitted softly, small hiccups leaving her lips.
Xavier's [e/c] eyes softened, grabbing a clean handkerchief from his breast pocket that he hasn't used yet, using it to wipe his mother's tears away.
“Do you wanna talk about it...?” he asked softly, his hands gently dabbing the soft cloth on [y/n]'s face, making sure to dry her tear stricken face.
“A little bit...” she says softly, smiling gently towards her son. Her eyes saddened even more, Xavier really looked like Lucifer.
“That's alright, don't pressure yourself mom.” Xavier spoke softly, standing up so he could sit at the side of the bed, leaning down to give a kiss on his mother's forehead.
She nodded and took a deep breath, “I dreamt... About your father.” she says softly and avoids her son's eyes.
Xavier's eyes widened, his shoulders dropping but decided not to speak and allowed his mother to talk.
“I dreamt of the past, how happy me and him were used to and now... I don't even know anymore.” she laughs bitterly.
Xavier's hand clenched slightly before relaxing, “It's not your fault mom...”
“I know.”
Xavier sighs softly, “Mom...?” he calls out softly to her, [Y/n] hummed.
“I think we need to talk about him now, it's a long overdue topic.” he says softly to her and she flinches but sighs.
He's right, she's been avoiding this topic for so many eons. It's time to talk about it.
She sighs softly, “You're right... I think we should.” and Xavier smiled, proud of her. He always has been.
[Y/n] remained seated on her bed, thumbs playing with each other. Xavier has already left to do his usual routine around the house.
Their conversation about Lucifer has already ended, she told him everything about what happened. Told him why she loves him so much and what he did to hurt her.
She told him how she and Lucifer were together for how many years before marrying each other, she told him the things that he did that made her love him.
And she just can't let go of her feelings for someone that she loved for so many eons. It's not that easy.
Even after all these years, she can't forget.
[Y/n] sighs softly, her hair cascading down to her face, framing the shape of her face perfectly. She turned her head to the side to look at the window, she could see the large backyard forest-like garden.
Knock, knock, knock.
Her head whipped in the direction of the knock, she turned to look at the door to see Michael standing and leaning against the door frame lazily.
Her eyes widened ever so slightly, “Michael... What are you doing here??” she asked softly and Michael sighed as he entered the room and closed the door behind him.
“I came as I heard what happened, are you alright?” he asked worriedly, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. [Y/n] smiled and nodded, “Yes,I feel slightly a lot better now.”
Michael smiled though, his eyes still held a tinge of worry in them. He sighs, “[Y/n]... Do you want to stop this mission and let someone else do it?” he asked her softly and [Y/n]'s eyes widened.
“I am perfectly capable of doing this, Michael... Don't worry too much about me.” she says softly and Michael sighs once more.
“I'm just worried for you, everyone is.” he says sternly and [Y/n] frowns, “I know but I can assure you that I'm fine with doing this...”
Michael sighs once more, clearly already used to her stubbornness.
“If you say so,” he says softly before looking back at her once more, “—but if it's suddenly too much for you, don't hesitate to tell me okay?” he says sternly to her.
[Y/n] giggles softly, a small smile on her face, “Yes,I'll keep that in mind.”
Michael smiled and gave her a single nod, “You better.”
Michael's eyes widened, snapping his fingers as he seems to remember something, [Y/n] tilted her head at him, confused.
“I just remembered, Gabriel said she was gonna visit later.” he says deadpanning and [Y/n]'s lips tightened into a flat line, she gave Michael a deadpan, “Yay... I can't wait.” she says unenthusiastically.
Michael laughed softly and ruffled her hair, “I'm sure it wouldn't be too bad.”
“She's gonna lecture me again about how men are shit.” she says deadpanning at him as she remembers the times Gabriel kept on lecturing her about how Lucifer was just a man.
“That is so real, love that for her.” Michael says, nodding.
“Michael, you're a man.” [Y/n] says with a small smile while shaking her head with her eyes closed.
“Am I?”
[Y/n] turned to look at Michael... Who's now a woman now. She deadpanned at him, “Really?” She asked sarcastically with a small smile, Michael laughed out loud. His laughs reverberated around the room.
“I think I look gorgeous as one.” he says sassily, flipping his long blond hair behind his back.
[Y/n] giggled and Michael smiled, proud to make her happy.
“You're so silly, try wearing a maid dress next time.” she suggested playfully at him, giving him a wink.
“Don't push your luck.” he says deadpanning at her and she just laughs, holding her hands up in defeat, “Okay, okay... I won't.” she says in-between giggles.
He smiled and ruffled her hair, “Alright, alright... You seem to be feeling much better now,” he says standing up, giving her a small smile, “—I'll head out first, I still have some work that are needed to be finished.” he says with a long sigh.
[Y/n] giggles, “Alright then... Don't push yourself too much okay?” she says softly, her eyes looking at Michael with worry.
“I won't.” he says and she deadpans at him, “I know you're lying.”
“Shush.”
“I'll see you later, [N/n].” he says with a smile, [Y/n] smiled at him, “I'll see you later, Michael.”
“It's Michelle.” he says sassily once more, flipping his long blond hair dramatically making [Y/n] cackle, “Right... Michelle.. lmao.. I'll see you later, Michelle.” she says in-between snickers.
“Laterz girlfriend~” Michael says sassily as he left, transforming back to his male form as he did so.
[Y/n] was left alone in her room, but this time... She was laughing thanks to Michael.
© LXKE 2024; please do not steal, translate, or repost my works as your own.
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