Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Your face, it's-"

"Different?" Beelzebub turned their gaze away from the two flies dancing around their drink. Gabriel nodded, face contorted with confusion in such a way it seemed like he'd never had much opportunities to be confused before.

"Why?"

Beelzebub bought their drink to their lips, giving them time to mull the question over. On one hand, they were tempted to say their reasoning was ineffable, but that certainly wouldn't go down too well, and it was integral this meeting did go well, or else all Hell would break loose. No pun intended.

On the other hand, Beelzebub could simply ignore the question and be done with it. It wasn't as if the Duke of Hell had a problem with being rude (it was something demons prided themselves on), but deep down, they knew the archangel wouldn't stop pestering them until he got some kind of answer. Like a constant fly buzzing in your ear, too persistent to be deterred by any number of swattings or unrepeatable curses.

No, flies were too good for Gabriel.

"I didn't think it would be that big of a problem," Beelzebub stared Gabriel up and down with a look they hoped gave I thought the famous archangel Gabriel could handle something as simple as a face change.

"It isn't, I was just asking. I mean, I've had mine for over 6000 years and I've never felt the need to change." He stared at Beelzebub's empty glass with disgust, how could any entity lower themselves to such a level they would consume human nourishment, and willingly, too! Though he shouldn't be surprised, he'd been told countless time of Hell and its sacrilege. He was just about to start his usual rant on his dislike for humans, when-

A lone fly flew into Gabriel's face. Gabriel panicked, raising his hand instinctively to swat it away but ultimately freezing when he realised who that fly belonged to. Beelzebub couldn't help but smile, his bewildered yet curious face being better than his smug one. Beelzebub opted to let that fly stay right where it was. After all, it was good to see Gabriel's cockiness falter, even for a little while.

"You still haven't answered my question."

Beelzebub rolled their eyes, but the reminder was enough to make them think. Not just a thought, but think. They were certainly more at peace, now- well, as at peace as you could get in Hell. It felt like a part of them had gone away with their old corporation, a part of their bite. They had smiled more lately, especially with Gabriel, than they ever had, well, ever. They felt.. strangely softer around the edges. Like a jagged rock sanded down until practically smooth. It's what this line of work does to a demon, grinds them down until they're a miserable shell of whatever they came down as. Well, more accurately, a shell of whatever they were before falling downstairs.

Gabriel was staring at them unapologetically, waiting for their long awaited answer. It must not be great either, working up there. Especially after the Armageddidn't-happen, it's what all these blasted meetings were about(although they never usually were.) Beelzebub sighed.

"I don't know. Just felt like I needed a change, you know?"

"I don't know, actually." Gabriel deadpanned, "nothing needs changing, everything is perfect as is. It's how God made it." Gabriel spoke as if everything was painfully obvious "And that's why we need Armageddon."

Beelzebub could've asked a million questions in that moment, and they asked none of them. Instead, Beelzebub stood up. The fly retreated from Gabriel's shoulder, much to his discomfort.

"I think that's all we need to cover today." They ended the meeting, despite covering nothing, "See you next time?" That was a question Beelzebub could ask, although they weren't going stay to hear the answer.

Beelzebub needn't worry.

Gabriel stayed at the table, admittedly for a few moments longer than needed. He spoke, even when there was no one to hear him.

"Yeah, see you next time."

Chapter Text

"Beelzebub?"

Beelzebub stared straight ahead of them, posture terrible, even for the Duke of Hell's standards.

"Do you ever get tired?"

Inwardly, Gabriel wondered why they would ask something so painfully obvious, and he would've said it outwardly, had Beelzebub not looked so...defeated. This wasn't their usual meeting spot. They were outside today. In a park overlooking a fairly large pond with lazily swimming ducks. They were happily munching on frozen peas, and, seeing as it was such a busy day, they were in no risk of going hungry. He imagined it would be quite nice to be a duck.

"No. I don't get tired. I don't need sleep. Demons don't need sleep either. Do you? Of course not, how would you-"

"Not that kind of tired, birdbrain." Beelzebub had turned to look at him now, "I meant fed up."

"Fed up"?

"Oh." The clarification was enough to make him think. Not just a thought, but think. Gabriel sat besides beelzebub, it now being his turn to stare ahead of them. The more he thought, the more "fed up" he could feel himself becoming. Aziraphale came to mind, but who came to mind more was the other Archangels. Their judgement and their stubbornness was a daily chore he was forced to deal with. Armageddon this, ineffable that. You couldn't help but wonder - no. You could help but wonder. This was a dangerous and stupid game to play, and he knew better than to question what didn't need questioning.

"Never."

"Really?" Their eyes met his knowingly. "You don't look so sure."

"Well I am."

Defensive, he crossed his arms and glared in a way he hoped gave I'm archangel fucking Gabriel, of course I'm sure. It did not. To Beelzebub, it gave more I'm fucking constipated. However, the sentiment was still there, and Beelzebub enjoyed ticking the archangel off.

"Well, I dont believe you. I don't know about Heaven but Hell can definitely be something to be fed up by."

"I suppose it must be. Seeing as it's Hell." He ran through all the different subjects they could talk about, they could talk about ducks?
Exasperated, Beelzebub scooted closer to Gabriel, hoping it would make him focus more.

"Look, what I'm trying to say is, what's the point?"

He blinked. He'd never noticed how dark their eyes were before.
"The point?"

"Yes! The blasted point!" They threw their hands up in exasperation, not noticing  how they'd brushed past Gabriel's arm. "6000 years of all this rubbish just for Armegeddon to blast it all away. Why bother?"

"Armageddon has to happen." Gabriel didn't like how close they were to talking about how they thought God's plan didn't make sense.
"Why? "
"Because it's God's plan!"
"Well what is God's plan?"
"God's plan is ineffable" "ineffable! Yes, we all know about God's ineffable plan. But that's all we know about it! That it's ineffable!"

They were getting heated now, onlookers pretending not to listen whilst they minded their frozen peas.

"Who are we to question God?"
"When was the last time anyone's even spoken to God?" Gabriel smiled triumphantly.
"Besides Metatron?" They rolled their eyes for the fifth time this conversation. He frowned again.

The more he tried to find The Point, the more the feeling in his chest grew. It gathered in his throat, and he felt like he might choke.

Nervousness. The Archangel Gabriel, meant to make God's message understandable, was nervous. He'd never had good reason to be nervous before, why now?

Beelzebub's gaze grew softer the longer Gabriel remained silent. The idea of Heaven not being perfect must greatly confuse an Archangel, especially someone as usually confident as Gabriel.

Them.

Yes, that's it. It was all because of them.

"I know what you're trying to do, demon." He rose to his feet.

Their brows furrowed, "What?Gabriel-" They stood as well, reaching for his shoulder to calm him down.

He brushed the hand off, staring down at them with what Beelzebub could only see as disgust.
"You're trying to plant doubt in my mind. Get me to lose trust in Heaven, well I'm not falling for it!"

First it was confusion, then it was realisation, and then it was anger.

"Oh, I see. That's what you see me as then, is it? Just a lowly demon constantly looking for a chance at a quick sin? Never saw anything more than that did you?" The last question was rhetorical, but the way their voice grew higher begged Gabriel to prove them wrong.

There was something Gabriel could say that would absolutely crush them, hurt them in such a way it would surely make them leave him alone. Before him, he had two choices: Heaven, or Beelzebub? The choice was clear, even if, deep down, he wishes it wasn't.

He breathed deeply, preparing his glare.

"There isn't anything more to see."

Their eyes widened. Somewhere behind them, a duck swallowed a piece of bread.

The hurt was quickly masked by fury, and Beelzebub shoved Gabriel away from them before saying some final words of their own.

"Well, I don't see you as anything more than a prick-faced archangel either!" They stormed off, giving one last fierce look back, "And it's fitting you're so cocky Gabriel, because you're a huge cock!" they vanished from Gabriel's life quicker then they had came. And that was what had to happen. For the greater good.

For the ineffable plan.

A man walked past, taking the sight in for himself.

"I've been there." He looked up at Gabriel with a sympathetic look, "You're better off without them."

Gabriel stared at the trail of smoke Beelzebub had left in their wake. Somewhere, deep in the back of his mind, the Archangel Gabriel wasn't so sure.

Chapter Text

Beelzebub was burning with fury.

Quite literally.

When a demon gets mad, well, madder than they usually are in their state of constant miserableness, their dramatic nature provides a physical reaction as well as an emotional one. Their anger showed itself through smoke, and Beelzebub was certainly smoking.

"There isn't anything more to see" Beelzebub mocked, in an american accent so terrible it would've sent a human into cardiac arrest. They'll show you "There isnt anything more to see" when they blow your blasted head off!

They could imagine Gabriel, just about to open his stupid mouth when he was choked to death with thousands of flies just as bothersome as he was, begging for help through gasps as he slowly discorporated, and it was glorious. Gabriel should worship the ground flies crawl on, seeing as they were much better at holding a conversation than he was, and definitely less stuck up than him for good measure. Angels should see them as role models, if anything. Would surely do Heaven some good.

You know what? They knew what The Point in all this was now, The Point was restarting Armegeddon, for the sole purpose of smiting that smug son of the almighty right where he stood.

Bile crept up inside their throat, replacing the unbridled rage for a few dire moments. Discorporating the Archangel was fine, sure, but gone forever? They didn't care about him, obviously not, but was Beelzebub really ready for that change?

If any demon, or angel for that matter, were to say this, Beelzebub would've ripped their tongue out the moment the third word escaped their lips, but Beelzebub, though they would rather be bludgeoned to discorporation with a 12-inch nail gun, quite enjoyed Gabriel. In some ironic, miniscule type of way.

In one of their first meetings, Beelzebub had managed to make Gabriel smile. Not the usual, entitled smirk, no, a genuine, real smile.

It wasn't particularly angelic, it was just his, and it was disgusting. Made them want to vomit into their glass of liquor. Knock his teeth out so they'd never have to see it again. But, for some strange reason, Beelzebub was always hoping, on the days in which they spoke, they'd be able to see that Archangel smile again. And it revolted them.

And the worst part, the most abysmal, godawful part, was Gabriel didn't enjoy Beelzebub. Before, Beelzebub caught the glimpse of what they thought was an Archangel that, deep down, was different from the rest. And, admittedly, Beelzebub was hoping Gabriel, too, would see that in them. But that's not how the world works. Hell is, well, Hell. And Heaven is Heaven. Gabriel was just like everyone else, and Beelzebub couldn't come up with any good reason to see them unless it was on the battlefield.

Beelzebub was a demon, nothing more, nothing less.

Beelzebub was a demon, nothing more, nothing less.

Gabriel repeated it like a mantra, pacing in a way they never had before.

Well, Beelzebub wasn't just any ordinary demon, they were the Duke of Hell. They deserved acknowledgement for that.

Beelzebub was the Duke of Hell, nothing more nothing less.

Beelzebub was the Duke of Hell and had nice eyes, nothing more, nothing less.

To call anything about a demon "nice" was outrageous, but surely it was understandable, seeing as anyone that looked at them for more than a few seconds would surely share the same sentiment.

Beelzebub was the Duke of Hell, had nice eyes, and made him smile, nothing more, nothing less.

There was something about Beelzebub that was frighteningly different from any other demon they'd had the displeasure of meeting. They were interesting, softer now. Swarmed by flies with as much personality as them. Very good at consuming alcoholic  human sustinence that quenches thirst. All very good things.

And Gabriel had told them there was nothing more to see in them than a lowly demon.

Gabriel stopped his pacing, suddenly overcome by a strange feeling. A pit in his stomach and an overall uncomfortableness that he was desperate to get rid of. As fast as possible.

His mind shouted at him loudly. Beelzebub!

Beelzebub? What about Beelzebub?

He thought for a moment.

Yes! That's right. It all made sense now.

Gabriel would ask Beelzebub how to get rid of it! He'd find somewhere they'd like on Earth, they would talk, and then everything would be back to normal. It didn't matter if they were trying to tempt him or place doubt in his mind, Gabriel was far too confident in himself and Heaven for any of that. Whatever was happening, Beelzebub would surely know how to help. Problem solved!

Now, what kind of place would Beelzebub enjoy?

Chapter Text

Beelzebub wasn't sure why they excepted the summoning. There were a multitude of reasons not to. Then again, you can only smite someone if you can see them, so maybe all of this could work out.

They were in a Restaurant. It was fairly nice, with calm music playing in the background and a carpet that was (probably) cleaned within the last 30 years. Gabriel was pretending to look busy at their table, reading a menu that no one seemed to have informed him was upside down. The dorkiness was just enough to save him from being discorporated as soon as they walked through the door, so that was something he could be thankful for.

He waved them to their table excitedly, as if he hadn't insulted their entire existence not two days ago.

"Beelzebub." He returned the menu to its place on the table.

"Gabriel.", they glared, "it would be good for you if you made this quick."

"I will." He cleared his throat, and he made a point to look into Beelzebub's eyes as he said this,

"You're not ugly."

Beelzebub paused, caught off guard.They didn't know what to expect, but they weren't expecting that.

"What?"

"I said there was nothing more to see in you than a lowly demon. And normal demons are horrible and ugly. You're not horrible or ugly."

Beelzebub wasn't sure how to take that, but it seemed like he was trying to do something. In awkward Gabriel fashion, of course, but still, trying to do something.

"Are you-" a grin void of any malice appeared on their face for the first time in two days "-are you trying to apologise?"

"Yes- I mean no. I'm not apologising, but I was wrong. I shouldn't have said that."

"Gabriel, that's basically apologising."

"No, it's not." He sighed, looking very concerned now. He really hoped Beelzebub knew what this was, because he couldn't ask anybody else. 

"Look, ever since that argument, there's been this pit in my stomach, and the only way I could think of to fix it was seeing you."

Beelzebub wondered "Was it like, a bad, uncomfortable feeling?"

Gabriel nodded, biting his cheek in anticipation. Whatever it was, he was ready for it.

Beelzebub smiled again, despite themself. (Gabriel looked confused, they weren't happy there was something wrong with him, right?) Really couldn't help it around Gabriel, could they?

"That was guilt" they crossed their arms, "You felt guilty for being a dick. Didn't think you had it in you, Gabriel."

He blinked, that didn't make any sense. He's never felt guilty before. He accidentally said it out loud, and Beelzebub felt almost proud of themself. They grabbed a menu, all of a sudden gaining quite the appetite.
"I guess I'm just special." Gabriel looks away for the first time this evening, opting to look at his menu as well, despite being well aware they won't be eating anything.

"I checked. They have those alcoholic beverages you like."

Beelzebub nodded. An idea had come to mind, and they weren't sure whether or not to go for it. Either way, they were going to get drunk, so it was basically a win-win. They thought for a few moments, before shutting the menu and signalling for the waiter.

Fuck it.

The "pizza", as Beelzebub called it, didn't look as disgusting as most human foods. It must also have looked good to Beelzebub as well, with how much they were complimenting it.

Beelzebub started on their second slice, their plan seemingly working. Operation: Get Gabriel to Try Human Food was a go. At the corner of their eye, they could see Gabriel eyeing the food rather curiously.

"You want to try some?" They nudged the plate over. Gabriel shook his head aggressively.

"No, that would be disgusting."

Beelzebub leaned back in their chair, licking their fingers slowly.
"Definitely doesn't taste disgusting."

"I'm sure it does. Your standards are probably extremely low." It did look tempting ( poor choice of words there, Gabriel), but Gabriel's body was a temple, to sully it with human sustinence would be absurd-

The glasses of beverages must have gotten to them, because they were picking up a slice and holding it dangerously close to his mouth.
"Say ahh." They giggled, miming what they wanted Gabriel to do.

Gabriel doesn't follow orders. No one's apart from God. He does what he thinks and thinks what he does. He is God's creation, and will only do what God intended.

It was amazing.

The sauce was both savoury and sweet, the "cheese" melted in his mouth and the crust was the perfect blend between hard and soft.

"You actually did it!"

"Oh God." He groaned, freezing when he realised the blasphemy he'd just uttered. Beelzebub laughed again, and, horrifyingly, it was almost like it was worth it.

After Beelzebub had sobered up and paid (Gabriel forgot money was a thing), they talked calmly as they walked through the alleyways besides the restaurant.

"Enjoyed your pizza, then?" Beelzebub smirked, quite happy they'd made an Archangel say "Oh God." Gabriel tensed slightly.
"Unfortunately, yes. It's probably one of the only things humans have ever gotten right."
They enjoyed the silence of the night for a few seconds, calm in eachother's company.

"I meant what I said."

"That I wasn't ugly?"

"That too," Gabriel realised he should've worded it better. "But I meant the thing about you not being just some demon. You're different than the rest, even if you tried to place doubt in my mind."

He stopped to look at them now, angelic earnest written in their eyes.
"I forgive you."

"Don't bother." They looked at him softly, opting not to tell Gabriel all they did was talk about something that revealed his already existing doubt. "What does forgiveness do for a demon?"

Not much, Gabriel wonders.

"For what it's worth, I don't think you're a cock anymore. At least, not as big a cock as I thought." They walked on, kicking crushed cans and glass bottles.
"I'll take that as a positive," he smiled, a real smile,
"Yeah, you're not like other demons at all, you're nice-"

Before he could speak any further, Gabriel was pinned to the wall with surprising strength. His head hit the wall with a mild thud, and he found himself breathing hard despite not having the need to breathe. 

"I am not nice. Don't you dare call me nice, angel, or I'll make you feel exactly what it's like to be in Hell" Beelzebub hissed. Gabriel focused on making his expression unreadable.

"Are we on the same page?" He felt his body nodding before he even processed the words. Too gently, Beelzebub let go of him and continued their walk as if nothing had happened. He stayed their for a few moments, utterly stunned and cheeks definitely flushed.

"You coming or not." Beelzebub turned their head back, hand on their hip.

Right now, Gabriel thinks he'd go anywhere, so long as it was with Beelzebub.

Chapter Text

"How many times now, angel?"

Aziraphale thought for a moment, the Bentley narrowly avoiding a pedestrian who was yelling some choice profanities the angel would most certainly not be repeating.

"Three times now, Crowley."
First at St James's Park, second at Crowley's favourite chinese restaurant (which was now horribly tainted by the memory of Gabriel eating a spring roll sideways), and finally, The Ritz.

"'S almost like they're following us." Crowley muttered "Wouldn't put it past Gabriel.. and also!"

"Oi, you pilock!" a biker swerved out of the way just in time for Aziraphale to not have to miracle away a hit-and-run charge.

"Who on Earth uses a blasted fork to eat spare ribs? People worthy of getting chucked out of a fifth-story window, that's who!"

"For the last time Crowley!" Aziraphale sighed "No one's defenestrating anyone!"

Crowley rolled his eyes, he would say Aziraphale would change his mind if he knew what the Archangel had done in heaven, but he knew all too well Aziraphale would never have the heart.

"And it doesn't seem likely they're actually following us. They've never so much as looked in our general direction, after all." They'd finally reached their destination, and the bookshop was a welcome sight after nearly hitting a lamp post.

"Yes, too busy giving eachother the goo goo eyes." Crowley sauntered through the door, Aziraphale smiled, not having heard that one in a while.

"What's that?" Crowley pointed to a letter on his desk.
"Oh, just a letter from Adam."

The two wrote, when life wasn't too hectic for them to forget, bi-monthly (Crowley scribbling his own remarks here and there with far worse handwriting and overall grammar than Aziraphale's.) Adam would write about whatever stupid thing his school had gotten them into this month, the Them's usual antics, and how Anathema and Newt were living their best lives- now that she didn't have to live her life based on prophecy. And Aziraphale and Crowley would return the favour with their own stories, somehow much less interesting than a teenager's day-to-day.

"You know, Crowley, this would be a good thing to write to Adam about. I can't think of anything else interesting this month, can you?"

"You mean besides my new plant?" His name was Planthony Jr., Planthony Sr. unfortunately losing his life due to his own incompetence on remaining spot-free.

Aziraphale motioned for Crowley to grab himself a pen, and, in some pub in Edinburgh, Everyday by Buddy Holly was playing.

Chapter Text

It was a nice day.

Of course, all days had been nice. But there was something special in this one, something that hung in the air with the promise of something new.

Gabriel smiled at the angels as they walked by, respect, and sometimes admiration, written over their features as they did so. It came with the title of Archangel, he supposed, patiently waiting for the "ducks" to finish crossing his path and reach their "pond". New creations were being made daily in preparation for God's humans, and, although Gabriel wasn't sure why God would create such things, he wisely kept his mouth closed. It was wrong to question God's ineffable plan. 

Something new caught Gabriel's eye, and, before he could begin to see it clearly, it buzzed unapologetically and erratically in his face. He raised his hand, unsure of whether to swat it away or see what it would do next. A giggle came from behind the bushes, before the strange creature retreated to wherever it had came from.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to laugh." The creature landed on the now visible angel's finger, an apologetic smile on their face, "Don't worry, they mean you no harm. Flies are just curious is all."

So that's what they were called. Flies.
"Did you call them that because they fly?" The angel looked down fondly at the flies that swarmed them, now also circling Gabriel.

"Yes, I think it suits them."

Gabriel agreed. Sometimes simplicity was a strength.
"Oh, Gabriel! Want to see what they can do?"
They knew his name? He nodded, wanting to spend as much time with the bubbly angel as he could.

The flies flew expertly to create a perfect circle. They morphed into different shapes, second a triangle, third a square. The angel sat down in the grass to admire their creation.
"Wow." Gabriel whispered, moving to sit besides them as they cheered the flies on.

"You know my name, but I don't know yours." Gabriel eyed them curiously.

"Well, how could I not know the Archangel Gabriel?" The angel asked, probably rhetorically. He blushed.

"I suppose I am quite well-known." Gabriel smiled proudly, looking down with shame when he remembered pride was a sin.

"Well, I want to know you too." It was the angel's turn to blush, the flies moving subconsciously to form a heart,

"First starting with your name."

The angel turned fully towards him now,  grinning from ear to ear.

"My name is-" The angel paused mid-sentence, as if they had been frozen.

Gabriel paused. Flies dropped to the floor. Dead but still buzzing loudly. Right in his ears. Crawling over his skin like pins and needles.

A crack emerged in the ground, growing bigger and bigger until parts of it fell into the abyss below. The angel smiled still, unmoving as Gabriel panicked and moved to grab their hand. Grab their hand and get them away. Get them both away.

But Gabriel wasn't with them anymore. They were alone, screaming his name as the ground fell around them. And he was running. Running so fast but not fast enough and their screams were so loud and he was screaming too but his cries were a different type of agony.

He was close, so close and so far and he shouted for them to grab his hand but theirs was inches too far away and they were falling. Falling, falling, falling and Gabriel cried out as if he were stabbed. And he was. The blood dripped from the blade in his chest to the fresh grass that they'd sat in moments and centuries ago and his heart ached. He collapsed, unable to rise again and the ground was falling beneath him but all of a sudden it didn't matter what happened to him and he was falling. Falling, falling, falling.

Gabriel woke with a start, unaware that he had even fallen asleep. He touched his cheek, realising that he was sobbing. He was in his office. He was in Heaven, he was safe. Gabriel breathed heavily, despite never needing to breathe.

"Gabriel? We heard noises coming from your office. Everything okay in there?" Michael knocked, voice softer than usual. It tied a knot in his stomach, and before he could think, he was reassuring Michael he was fine through muffled gasps.

Michael finally left, and Gabriel sighed with relief. When was the last time he cried? He tried to think of the last time, and he came up empty. The way his eyes stung was foreign, and the feelings he felt were unwelcome. He didn't like to feel, not so deeply. Vulnerability of any kind was weakness, and that was a luxury he didn't have. He wiped his eyes, picking up his phone.

His finger hovered on Beelzebub's contact, before he thought better of it. There was nothing they could do.

Besides, it would be pathetic. Going to the Prince of Hell for comfort from a bad dream. No, Gabriel couldn't do that. He had to remain a symbol of strength for-

For Armegeddon.

He hadn't forgotten, no. But for a little while, it had felt like something far away. But it was happening (actually, this time) and there was nothing he could do about it. It was his duty as an Archangel of God to fight. To kill whoever he had to. But he imagined his blade in Beelzebub's chest, blood leaking from the wound and their eyes staring into his. Pain and hurt, before the light left those same beautiful eyes and their lifeless body fell to the floor and Gabriel didn't think he could do it.

He couldn't do it.

And that terrified him.

Gabriel knew what he had to do, even if it would destroy him. This would protect them, not from what was inevitable, but from having to kill someone you cared about.

They were going to hate him for this.

And they were safer that way. He prepared himself. 

This was for Beelzebub.

A part of him asked if there was a different way to solve this, which he quickly silenced. Questions were not for Angels.

This was how it had to be. 

And this was how it was going to happen.

Chapter Text

It didn't make any sense. Their last meeting had went fairly well, all things considered. Gabriel always responded within the hour, regardless of how busy things would get in Heaven. So for him to just not respond like this for days on end was not only out of character, but painstakingly infuriating. They looked through their messages, all, unsurprisingly, still left on delivered.

You:  Look, if you're expecting an apology,
          you're not getting one, I don't even           
          know why you're mad at me in the first   
          place

You: That is why you're not answering, right?                      Right?
         Are you safe?

You: I thought Archangels were meant to be
         brave
        You won't even speak to me
        You're a coward is what you are

You: I fed the ducks today
        They seemed like they missed you
        Can ducks miss people?
        I miss you
        I wish you'd just talk to me
        Instead of doing whatever this is
       You know what, fuck you Gabriel
       I don't want to speak to you either
       I don't need you

You: Look, whatever I did, I'm sorry
         No one ever gets apologies from the
         Prince of Hell, you should think
         yourself lucky
         I wouldn't be doing this for anyone else,
         Gabriel
         I would've smited them as soon as
        they started to disrespect me the way
        you've been doing

You: I miss you

Flies came to comfort them as they rested their head in their hands. They curled up into a ball on the floor, feeling like, for the first time in millennia, they should give up on something.

This was stupid.

Why would an Archangel want to speak to you? And why are you so desperately, pathetically trying to make him?

They felt the sadness run deep within their chest, before it was replaced by a fiery  determination much more suited to Beelzebub.

They were going to get answers, whether that Archangel liked it or not

Gabriel's phone buzzed again, and he would've swiped the notifications like he had all the other ones, had what he read not made his blood run cold.

Beelzebub: Meet me at your statue as soon
                     as you can
                     I'm hurt.

This wasn't how it was meant to go. This was meant to be protecting Beelzebub. Protecting both of them. They weren't meant to be hurt.

You: I'm on my way

"Beelzebub!" He ran towards them. They were stood with their hands behind their back, staring at his statue with a look in their eyes he couldn't figure out.

No blood.

"You're not..?" Gabriel looked at them, puzzled.

"Hurt?" They smirked, looking at him now, the real him, "I know, had to get you to come here somehow."

"You lied to me." Gabriel rebuked. They shrugged their shoulders, narrowing their eyes.

"I'd say it's better than what you've been doing to me. Just who do you think I am, Gabriel?"

He avoided their powerful gaze, it was a lovely night. A soft breeze was in the wind, and the night's touch left them both with a coldness to contrast the feelings that would surely burn them from the inside out.

"We can't talk anymore. Not like this." Gabriel forced himself to say, his voice just above a whisper.

"Why?" Exasperation pulled them closer to him, "Why Gabriel? Why are you doing this? Just talk to me, please."

Their hand was on his arm, and they were so close but he was so far away. He snapped.

"Why don't you get it? It's not hard to understand! Im trying to protect you! If we know eachother, then it will only hurt more when-"

Gabriel froze. He tried again,

"When-" He couldn't say it.

"When it's Armegeddon." Beelzebub finished. Gabriel nodded. When we have to kill eachother.

"I don't need protecting, angel." They smiled, though it didn't meet their eyes.

"I could kill anyone else. Anyone else but you. The thought of it makes me sick. And that's terrifying. I can't have weakness on the battlefield, Beelzebub. Not when I'm fighting for God."

In that moment, Beelzebub wanted nothing more than to grab his hand and get them out of here. Away from Heaven. Away from Hell. Away from everything.

Beelzebub tried to imagine it. How he'd look as death took him. Those violet eyes fading slowly and the knowledge that it was all because of them. Beelzebub didn't think they could do it.

A thought came into their head, Beelzebub seizing it just as quickly as it came.

Go for it.

Go for it before you lose the chance.

"What if we don't have to do it?"

"What?" He tilted his head.

"Armegeddon." They grabbed his hands, squeezing slightly, "What if we don't have to do it?"

Gabriel paused.
"Beelzebub, it's God's plan. Of course we have to do it."

"We don't have to. You're an Archangel, Gabriel. Surely you can do something to-"

"You're asking me to go against Heaven? I can't do that, Beelzebub, you know I can't.  This is just how it has to be."

"Well, we don't even have to say anything. We can run off together! Just you and me, no sides attached. What do you say?" They looked at him expectantly.

Gabriel wanted to. God forgive him, he wanted to. Beelzebub started to walk, believing Gabriel was going to follow them.

"I can't."

Beelzebub paused, turning their head "Why not?"

"My side wouldn't like that, and neither would yours." If only it would have been more simple, they could've been off in the stars by now.

"We don't need them, Gabriel. We don't need either of them. You're better than all of the other Archangels. I know your ego wouldn't let you forget that."

"It's my duty to serve God, what I need doesn't matter." He spoke so matter-of-factly, it drove Beelzebub mad.

"But it does. It does matter, Gabriel. You're more than what God wants you to be."

Gabriel looked to his statue.
"If I am not what God wants me to be, then I am nothing."

Beelzebub sighed.
"I think, deep down, some part of you knows what I'm saying is true. And that terrifies you. Because Heaven's all you've ever known." Beelzebub held their hand in his, "When you're ready, come find me."

"You'll be waiting a long time, Beelzebub, you're wrong about all this."

"Sure," Beelzebub smiled, "And I don't mind waiting."

And they were gone.

Chapter Text

"If I am not what God wants me to be, then I am nothing."

I am nothing .

Nothing.

Gabriel was still. Almost freakishly so. He had no doubt. It was unnatural for any angel, especially an Archangel, to have any doubt. That's not what God wanted.

Despite how hectic it had been the past few months, Gabriel loved Heaven. God's love was unconditional, and, as Her creation, he'd sought to mirror that same love for all things She had made.

So then why was he so afraid?

Heaven had never felt so cold, so uneasy. The warmth he had usually felt radiating off these walls had become tainted. It wasn't right. He wasn't right.

If God's love was unconditional, why were there so many conditions to get into heaven? Why was Job, despite meeting all these conditions, tortured by the death of his children, and left with a grieving wife and seven children that were different from the first three?

He imagined God destroying Michael, Uriel, and Sandalphon, Heaven in shambles and being truly alone for the first time in millennia. Only for God to say it was so She could see if he truly loved Her, before giving him seven more Archangels, before returning to silence and leaving the others to rot in his memory.

Gabriel wouldn't be thankful.

He would be furious.

Those were his Archangels, his Heaven, for him to protect, and to love, and to work with until their final battle together. And for them to just be cast aside like it was nothing? It didn't make any sense.

Why wasn't God making any sense?

He slapped a hand over his mouth, despite not having said it out loud, and despite being sure no one was using telepathy.

This was getting out of hand.

He left Heaven in a rush. Gabriel was wrong, he was sure of it. He was broken, but revealing that would surely get him cast down from Heaven by any angel with a lick of sense.

Her love was conditional.

He ran. He ran, and he ran, and he ran, until his legs were numb and his body was fit to collapse at the thought of taking another step. Gabriel took another step anyways, and he collapsed just as he did so. Church. It was a long shot, but it was all he could think of that wouldn't destroy him. Willing himself the strength, Gabriel rose and stumbled into the building with an overwhelming in his chest.

It was isolated. Seeing as it was late, or seeing as no one came here anymore. The stained glass shone in the moonlight: Holy Mary.

"God?" His voice croaked. He coughed, looking upward.
"It's me, Gabriel. I know this isn't really your style, but I really need to talk to you right now."

Silence. He sighed, it hurt his chest.

"Look, God? Something's happening to me." He stuttered.
"And I need- I need you to tell me how to fix what's wrong with me, because-"

Gabriel paused for a moment, trembling with the effort it took not to sob in front of his creator.
"I need you to fix me, because I don't know how to do it myself. Everyone thinks I have everything figured out but I don't. I'm confused, and you're the only person that can get rid of my doubts." His voice cracked at the last words.

He was crying now. Hands pressed together so tightly and gasping for breaths he didn't truly need.
"Please." He begged as he sobbed. "Please"

Silence. Anger crept up his throat.

"Why won't you help me?" He snapped, too focused to notice the way the building shook. God would help someone She loved. Gabriel had done everything She ever wanted of him. 'God's favourite' fought for her, praised her, never let himself think anything more or less of Her than perfection. So why..?

Why ?

"Why don't you love me?" He all but screamed. The stained glass was cracking, and he pulled at his hair with a pained sob.

"I don't understand." He buried his face in his hands. The pain inside of him grew stronger.

"Help me!"
Shattered glass. The cross was ripped from its hinges. The night was quiet still, and it tormented Gabriel like a stab to the heart.

"Fine!" He was angrier than he'd ever been. Enochian threatened to slip out of his tongue.
"Leave me! Just like you've left everyone else! You don't care about- !"

Gabriel realised he was edging closer to blasphemy, falling to his knees.

" Just Answer me." He whispered. And he was sobbing again, not like he had ever stopped. "Answer me, please."

Silent night 

Holy night

All is calm

All is bright 

Chapter Text

It had been a feeling.

Beelzebub had been overcome with a feeling that encompassed their very soul and being with the overwhelming need and desire to do something. The 'something' was admittedly unclear to them, but, nevertheless, their legs had begun to walk and their paperwork lay abandoned without so much as a mumbled goodbye. If Beelzebub had been in a different state of mind, they would've taken a second to question exactly where they were going and what they were doing. And they did, as the sky grew darker and they became aware of how cold it was. However, the idea of going back to Hell was worse than a wild goose chase, either this or paperwork, they rationalized. Besides, Beelzebub didn't think they could leave this alone if they tried.

Minutes, hours. A church came into view, the silence of the night disturbed only by the sound of broken cries and smashed glass. Their trance was broken, and Beelzebub blinked. They knew that voice.

"Gabriel?"

He was mumbling to himself, singing hymns and prayers, some angry, some desperate, most both. He didn't look at them as they spoke, violet eyes on Mother Mary's. Her stained glass lay in pieces beneath them. It was almost beautiful.

"There's something wrong with me, Beelzebub." He whispered. Voice cracking and broken in a way an Archangel's never should. No bravado, no forced smile. And Beelzebub, in a rare moment of pure, raw emotion, saw Gabriel for what he was behind the facade.

A scared, frustrated angel. Confused, and afraid, and abandoned by the only person who could give them answers.

"She won't fix me." Gabriel stared up at the ceiling, hands raised to the sky in a desperate motion "Why won't she fix me?"

Beelzebub was speechless. Archangel Gabriel, the messenger of God, begging for Her presence like a dog for scraps. Fury burned inside of them, a kind all too common for a demon.

"You don't need 'fixing', Gabriel.", he shook his head, giving comfort wasn't Beelzebub's expertise "I know this feeling like the back of my hand, Gabriel. This is doubt. You can beg, you can scream, pray. You can do whatever you can to 'fix' this side of yourself you keep behind closed doors. Keep far in the back of your mind and create a version of yourself different than the one you've been taught to despise. But it's not going to go away. And, sooner or later, you're going to have to confront it. Whether you like it or not."

Gabriel froze. Beelzebub mentally kicked themselves, too harsh, you idiot. This Archangel is one truth away from a mental breakdown.

His eyes met theirs, and Beelzebub's heart  broke all over again.

"But why?"

There are a lot of questions Gabriel could ask, and in those two words, Beelzebub understood all of them. They stayed there for a while, on the floor of an empty church. A hand on his shoulder.

Beelzebub hesitated, unsure of what else to do. This could ruin everything. They looked at the way he still stared up at the sky, a pleading in his eyes he should never have.

Fuck it.

Gabriel felt a hand run through his hair. It was gentle, lighter than the softest feathers. Despite having already embarrassed himself enough, Gabriel relaxed into the touch. It was unlike anything he had ever felt. Beelzebub ran their hand through again, pleasantly surprised.

Gabriel sighed. He was unsure of what they were doing, but it helped. Strangely.

In a few hours, a terrified church-goer would find their beloved place of worship and ruins and two people in the middle of it all. Asleep and quite comfortable around the bits and pieces of broken glass. Before they could raise their voice, however, the two people would be gone. They would tell the story until their death, not a soul believing they had vanished into thin air.

Chapter Text

"You've been running a great deal lately."

"More like spending a great deal of his time on Earth."

"Not going native on us, are you Gabriel?"

That was absurd, Gabriel wasn't going native.
Then again, he didn't exactly know what he was going, either.

"No, not anything like that, who do you think I am?" He gave one of his signature smiles and didn't wait for Uriel to give their  answer. "It's just a form of training, for, y'know."

"Armegeddon."

He nodded, though the thought of Armageddon wasn't something he'd go out of his way to train for. Or train for at all, in an ideal universe.

Gabriel would've kept running for a few more hours, had he not had to get away from the pouring rain. Heaven wasn't how it used to be, or maybe it always was like this and Gabriel had never seen it. Never wanted to see it.

Nevertheless, Heaven felt colder and the strange disconnect that was growing between him and the other Archangels wasn't something he wanted to feel. He wondered if they felt it too, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to find out. Heaven knows what happened to the last Archangel.

Gabriel had just arrived, and he found himself wanting to leave already.

He managed to get halfway through the day, before giving up and heading back down to Earth.
"You're leaving again?" Uriel followed him, they had things to do today.

"Armegeddon preparations." Gabriel didn't turn around fully to see the way they crossed their arms. The way they narrowed their eyes and lifted their head.

Armegeddon preparations.

The ducks were lively today. Beelzebub had miracled a bag of frozen peas, throwing them lazily into the pond and watching fondly as they raced to snatch them like sharks in a feeding frenzy.

The sight had made them hungry, and, as soon as Gabriel was here, they would definitely be going to a food truck.

Speak of the devil. The two stood beside eachother for a few moments, duck antics being a welcome distraction for them both.

"Want to try?" Beelzebub handed over the peas. Gabriel grabbed a small handful, they melted slightly in his hands, and he threw them to the ducks after deeming them soft enough. They ate them happily, coming for second helping when Beelzebub quickly chucked some more.

"Do they like them hard?" Now that he thought about it, of course ducks would like things harder.

"That's what she said." Beelzebub giggled as Gabriel flustered.
"But yes, they do. Much better for them than bread." Beelzebub emptied the bag.

"I'm hungry, let's find something to eat." Beelzebub was craving something sweet. Churros? Ice cream? Better yet, why not both?
"When are you not hungry?" Gabriel smiled, his real smile. Beelzebub grabbed his hand and led the way.

It was an ice cream van. Beelzebub miracled away the payment, before happily digging in to a Mr Whippy. Gabriel was unsure of who this "Whippy" was, but Beelzebub seemed to enjoy their ice cream.

"Want to try a bit?" There was ice cream on their nose, and Gabriel wiped it away without thinking. They paused, a strange look on their face. Something was wrong.

"Gabriel." Oh. He lifted his hand from their cheek, opting to hold on to the cone instead.

"Taste good?"

It tasted great. It was delicate and sweet, just soft enough to melt in your mouth. He'd missed out on something so good for millennia.
"Great."

Beelzebub finished off the cone, walking to the ducks. It was busier now, their usual bench luckily unoccupied. Beelzebub slouched, listening to the bustle of the park.

"I want ducks to exist forever."

Beelzebub paused.
"What?"

"They're not going to be around anymore. After Armegeddon."

Beelzebub took this as the opportunity it was, correcting their posture.
"A lot of things won't be around anymore: ducks, ice cream," Beelzebub poked his sleeve, "Tailored suits, Buddy Holly records."

"Bars, those rectangle T.V things."

Beelzebub nodded.
"Gone, just like that." They shook their head. "If only there was something we could do."

"You would be gone too. When Heaven wins."

Beelzebub moved closer.
"When Hell wins. You'd be gone."

They sat in silence, remembering what 'gone' meant.
"Unless..neither side has to win?"

"Because there'll never be a chance to lose."

Exactly like last time. No Armegeddon, everything stays.

"I could speak against it, the next meeting we have." Gabriel looked down, "But I don't know how much my side would like that."

"Well, it's not like they could do much to you. You're like Heaven's poster boy." Gabriel wished that was true.

"Aziraphale didn't have a trial. We've killed Angels for far less than going against the ineffable plan." Aziraphale and Crowley, the traitors. Then again,

"So does this make us traitors, just like them?"

Gabriel sighed, tilting his head.
"Maybe it does."

"They wouldn't kill you, Gabriel. They wouldn't dare. Although I don't really know what it is they would do."

"Whatever happens, happens." He couldn't hide the quiver in his voice, and Beelzebub rested their hand on his.

"Are you sure?" Their eyes were sincere. Gabriel looked out to the ducks swimming leisurely. The people having their not-so-secret secret meetings, food truck workers just trying to make it through the day. Beelzebub.

"I'm sure."

Chapter Text

The Greeks believed the pheonix could rise from the ashes of death. Perish in the flames, reborn again in its nest. Did it ever get tired of the smoke? Though, in some ways, it must be worth it, if you are associated with Ra. Why not worship the sun? It will burn you because it loves you. Worship, my child. I play a game you cannot understand.

It was forever and it was nothing. This was not rebirth to Gabriel. No, this was Death, and the humans' inevitable ends almost felt like mercies. Almost. Because mercy never seems to be what God gives out.

Does She forget to think of the children that beg for a life they will not live? Does she forget to think of the mothers that beg more? The fathers that will let their tears of grief fall only to Her? Gabriel does not know, nor will he ever know. And it is how things have always been. Everything changes and everything stays the same. The sun will fall, the moon will rise. The ducks will come for their frozen peas in the morning.

It hurt. Horribly. The pain was merciless and his back burned and he wondered if this was how Icarus felt. Flying too close to the sun. What did you think was going to happen? Wings melt, you know? It's always better to do what you're told. Or else you'll end up falling from the sky.

He couldn't move. It was all too much. Gabriel wasn't sure what he was doing. What he was seeing, hearing, feeling. It was a torturous blur and all Gabriel could be sure of was that he would do anything for it to stop.

Somewhere in Heaven, the Archangels have ended their meeting and are filling in their respective paperwork. There is no guilt, nothing but the knowledge that this is what had to be done. God's plan will come to fruition. No matter the cost.

It was loud.

Louder than anything in Hell, which was saying something, and the demons seemed to recognise that sound as if it were engraved into their very existence. Beelzebub pushed past the inevitable crowd that had formed, wanting to see this for themselves. Their blood ran cold.

No, they wouldn't.

Beelzebub bit down on their lip hard. Blood filled their mouth, and they swallowed.
"Everyone out! Now! Off with all of you!" Beelzebub need not make threats. Their presence was a threat in of itself.

When they were finally alone, Beelzebub allowed themselves to look at Gabriel properly. Their heart sunk, and the realisation it was them that gave Gabriel the idea to go against Heaven broke them all over again.

With the snap of their fingers, Beelzebub and Gabriel were far away from Hell. It was an old abandoned castle Beelzebub liked to stay in when Hell's bullshit got too, well, bullshitty. Over the years, Beelzebub had cleaned up the place and added their own decor, but what was important was that no one knew about this place. It was theirs, and it was safe. Beelzebub kneeled down, careful not to touch him.

"Gabriel?" They couldn't help the way their voice cracked.

Gabriel's finger twitched, and they let out a breath they didn't know they had been holding.
"Can you look at me?"
Nothing. They took that as answer enough.

Smoke rose to the ceiling and all Beelzebub could think about was they actually did it. The Archangel Gabriel.

Fallen.

Gabriel lifted his head from the the soothing coldness of the stone floor. The room spun, and his head pounded like the explosions of the stars. There was nothing to be certain of other than the pain that shot through his body with every waking moment. He was vaguely aware of the voice gently whispering to him. It was a comfort he couldn't feel. It was muffled, but it was present nonetheless, and it allowed him to open his eyes and see.

They were beautiful. Brown eyes softened at the sight of his and relief washed over him so strongly he could feel it in his chest and Gabriel found himself never wanting to look at anything else. Beelzebub.

"I'm here." A hand fell into his. Gentle and grounding. He'd said it out loud.
Gabriel winced, painfully reminded of the burning on his back.
"What happened?" Beelzebub looked away, they knew what they had to say, but that didn't make it any easier.

"Gabriel.." Beelzebub hesitated, regaining their composure.

"You fell."

Fell?

The Archangel Gabriel?

Gabriel opened his mouth and closed it again. So that's what this was. He refused to blink. He would not break over this.

Realisation.
"My wings?" He wouldn't, "Are they.. Are they- is that what's..?

Burning. Beelzebub nodded, brows furrowed and forcing themselves to look at him now.
"Oh." He remembered now. The meeting. The trial. Metatron. The Archangels. His Archangels.
"God has forsaken me." He said more to himself than Beelzebub.

He wanted to go Home. But he didn't know where Home was anymore. One meeting was all it took. Abandoned by his creator, by the other Archangels. What for? God's plan. God's ineffable, ruthless, unwavering, uncaring plan. Gabriel felt everything and nothing, all at once.

A hand brushed through his hair. Cradled his cheek. A soft smile.
"It's okay." Beelzebub whispered.

This was home.

A tear fell. And then another. And then another and Gabriel was sobbing into their arms.

Beelzebub ran their fingers through his hair again. Holding him so tightly it must've hurt. Though it was no matter, because gabriel was holding on just as tightly.
"I've got you." They lay their head on his. Of course it would be Gabriel to turn them soft. The wanker.

It would be okay. Somehow. So long as Beelzebub had Gabriel, and Gabriel had Beelzebub.

Chapter Text

Gabriel is a wanker. A lovable wanker, yes, somehow. But a huge wanker nonetheless.

Being away from Heaven and Hell was amazing, wonderful even. Beelzebub cracked open another pistachio with their teeth, spitting out the shell onto the floor. But there were some problems, of course,  the kind you can't miracle away with a bottle of wine and a comically large bag of pistachios. Gabriel was exactly how you'd imagine a newly fallen angel to be: going through all five stages, at once. Very intensely. Beelzebub debated whether or not enough time had passed, lifting up their sleeve to check an imaginary watch. 

This morning wasn't an argument. Not really. After his wings had burned, Beelzebub had decided to take care of them every day as best as they could. Wings were delicate things, even for the damned. And after battle, it would usually be an expert hand of one of the less heavy-handed angels that would care for any injuries on their side. Hell was never really into preening, opting to leave any wounds to heal or fester on it's own. Still, Beelzebub had a vague idea, enough to help the wounds heal and give him some comfort. But on one day, a particularly hard day for whatever reason, something just snapped. Gabriel had snapped, a fierce look in his eyes that left as quickly as it came. And all that was left was a guilty sadness, deep, and hurting in the early morning's glow. He had apologised, asking to be alone with a gaze that didn't quite meet theirs.

Gabriel wasn't a wanker because he was lashing out. No, Gabriel was a wanker because he just had to have that hurt look on his face while he did so. If you told Beelzebub a few centuries ago that anyone could make them want to tear apart Heaven and Hell to meer shreds with just one look, they would've surely laughed in your face. But this was just how things were now. 

They knocked on the door, wishing they'd brought their much too expensive wine along for the journey,
"Gabriel?"
No response. Alright. Beelzebub decided to swing the door open anyway.

He was tragically beautiful. Looking out the window to the full moon as if it would give him some answers.

"Gabriel-?"

"I'm sorry. You don't deserve to be shouted at. Especially when none of this is your fault. Yes, falling sucks. Yes, we're missing and probably being searched for across the globe. But that doesn't give me the right to take it out on you. Not when you've been nothing but good to me and you despise being 'good' ."

His hand was on their shoulder, staying there for a few moments before guiding them to the window.

"Nice night out, huh?"

Beelzebub noted the stars, counting how many constellations they could work out. The good thing about this place was the sky was far away from the lights, making a nice view to watch as the night turned into day.
"Beautiful."

"So, how about you? How are you doing with all this?"

'All this' refers to many things. Losing their role as Duke of Hell, although it was by their own choice. Seeing just how low Heaven is willing to go. Knowing Hell could, and would, go lower. The fact a hiding place can't stay hidden forever. Beelzebub makes a noise, shrugging their shoulders.

"How you'd expect."

Going through all five stages, all at once. Very intensely.

"It'll be alright."

They both know damn well they don't have any idea how it'll be, but the words are a comfort nonetheless. Beelzebub rests their head on Gabriel's shoulder, a sign of trust. Gabriel wraps his arm around them, and they stay like that for a while. Watching the moon. It's one of those moments, that you think for whatever reason, you're going to remember forever.

Gabriel looks at them, and Beelzebub looks back. There's a question in that gaze, and an answer all at once. He leans in. They cup his face and nothing has ever felt so right. Time stands still. It's the calm before the storm, sure. But it's worth it. It's all worth it.

Every day it's a gettin' closer
Goin' faster than a roller coaster
Love like yours will surely come my way

Chapter Text

Dear A.Z Fell

I think you're right on this one, Aziraphale. I mean, what reason do they have to follow you around? Although I get why Crowley's mad, seeing someone eat a spring roll sideways with a fork would probably ruin my day too, or even month. Speaking of food, you should come visit some time. Anathema's got into baking, after Newt nearly burnt the house down with his choclate chip cookies (tip: if the cookie dough comes out darker than the chocolate chips, you've put the oven on for too long.) Aside from the maths test we've got coming up and Dog demolishing a bacon slice in one bite, there's nothing noteworthy going on in Tadfield.

(P.S I wish Gabriel and Beelzebub just quit the pining and kiss already by the time you get this letter. Maybe it'll be a sign for all the people in London to just go for it! )

                                               Yours sincerely,
                                                         Adam Young