Absit Invidia
graceexiststobefallenfrom:
The angel hardly responded to the Scotsman’s appearance; if blinking simply for the sake of doing so and not because he needed to (for as an angel he held no real need to) actually counted as responding. Perhaps he should not have come all the way Down There for this. He could, after all, have prayed to his Father from anywhere else. In fact, why pray to God from the centre of Hell? Was that not a disgrace to everything his Father stood for when Lucifer was everything God wasn’t? Was it not bad enough that he couldn’t take care of himself without the one person in all of creation he held in higher esteem than himself (save for God)? That he’d known where Crowley was but simply couldn’t bring himself to approach him out of fear he had done something wrong? That he had to ask God to get Crowley’s attention for him? It was pathetic. It was waste of God’s time. It was…
…oh.
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Crowley knelt, awaiting a reprimand. In fact, he awaited one response and one only, a final goodbye, the command to leave Lucifer’s sight and never return. The command he got from everyone, in the end, as they realised his harsh reality of mediocrity hidden behind a thousands masks and strengths. He expected it, especially if Lilith had been told to leave Lucifer’s sight, there was no chance for him.
Compared to her, you are nothing to him.
And now, thanks to you, she cannot be with him
He quickly dispersed the thoughts. They would not help him now. He satisfied himself with thinking through rhymes to occupy himself and stop the oncoming rush of panic. Watching Lucifer also helped to calm him, seeing as the angel hadn’t ordered his execution… yet.
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Absit Invidia
graceexiststobefallenfrom:
If there was one thing Lucifer had learned the previous night in his epiphany with the other angel it was that he couldn’t continue on the way that he was. It had been weeks and little by little the fallen archangel had been cracking under his own weight. What if Crowley had finally realised that Lucifer, with his missing and damaged wings, and his dented halo, and his tainted Grace, and his broken blade, was not the Guardian Angel he had portrayed himself as? He had, after all, tricked the Scotsman out of his innocent mortal soul, there was no pleading good will on that one. But whether Crowley had fled to hide himself from Lucifer or whether he had been attempting to abandon everything for the time being was irrelevant, for Lucifer’s assumptions did nothing for him. If he could find the demon he could ask him personally what had happened or what he had done wrong.
At least…that was the intention when he’d dropped Nick to the park ground and vanished into the depth of Hell without waiting to see if the blond was okay (though it wouldn’t be the worst thing he’d done to the poor guy, after all). Only now finding himself in one of Hell’s long and drawn-out corridors, he’d begun to have second thoughts. What was he supposed to do, storm in and demand answers? What if Crowley didn’t even want to see him? He didn’t want to force him, force would only place them in an even bigger predicament. He couldn’t exactly sit in the hallway for God-only-knew how long until the demon decided—
Oh.
God.
When Crowley was upset or worried he prayed to Lucifer.
….Did the Devil even remember how to pray?
But then, it didn’t matter if he did, for if he’d learned anything in his time in Heaven it was that prayer came naturally by ones emotions when wishing for the well-being of someone other than oneself. So silently Lucifer sank to his knees on the floor bowing his head. Did it matter if anyone saw? Oh, no, the prayer was in Latin. They’d all hear it whether they wanted to or not.
Of all the wrongs I have ever done
of all the wrongs I can never right…
If I may only ever ask of You one thing
as Your son
for as long as I may continue to exist.
I pray for his safety and well-being.
I know I robbed an innocent soul of everything he deserved.
And I do not ask Your unattainable forgiveness for it.
I simply ask that you overlook my errors
And watch over him for my sake.
I don’t know what I said or did
but I would and will do anything to correct it.
He’s means more to me than anything
I just don’t know how else to show him
other than to ask You.
He opened his eyes slowly, navy blue eyes solemnly focused nowhere in particular on the floor beneath him. It wasn’t as though his Father would actually answer him. He didn’t exactly expect Crowley to either. But he couldn’t bring himself to get up either.
Crowley sat in a position nearly identical to Lucifer’s, albeit on the other side of the stone door. The only visible difference in position was the placement of his hands. One grasped the other, nails digging into the skin in a mixture of guilt and anxiety.
Lilith would be punished for protecting him as he had begged her to do. As loyal as she was, her first reaction was to go to Lucifer and inform him of his lover’s plight, but Crowley had pleaded and pleaded until she allowed him clearance to a room that would allow him space to think. He couldn’t have Lucifer finding him like this, when he was weak and lost in his own thoughts. If Lucifer saw him like this, the angel would drop him in a heartbeat. After all, what worth did he have to such a beautifully broken creature now?
A tear fell to join it’s brethren on the floor before him as a gasp shocked through him. He had hoped that coming here would clear his head, show him a solution to the shadows that haunted him, but all it had done was made them more prominent. And now, Lilith would suffer for his transgressions. Surely that alone was enough cause for his removal, but Lilith refused, saying that if she was to suffer for him to remain here, Crowley had best remain and sort out all that he needed to.
A soft, yet clearly present presence made itself known behind him and, when it did not pass as many spirits who entered this room did, Crowley slowly turned, only to be confused by what he saw. A little girl stood before him, a small smile on her face. No signs of the fever that had stolen her from him remained, no marks of the fey to hold her back from Heaven.
Eira.
Why was she here? And how did a soul from Heaven wind up in a deeper pit of Hell than most demons were admitted to? A silent, questioning look voiced all of his questions to the daughter who stood only the slightest bit taller than him as he knelt.
“Prayer is an open channel, for both men and angel’s, Father. And a very unexpected prayer was received by Him tonight. A prayer like He has never received before. And so he decided to answer it. He considered sending Mother, but thought I would be best as a messenger.” A slightly meek look came over her face, some part of her still embarrassed, even in death, to be speaking to her Father in such a manner. But, nonetheless, she continued, “There is a very sad angel outside, Father. But his prayer, the only one he has made in eons, was not made for his own happiness. His prayer was made for yours. You, who sit and weep in what you perceive as rejection and loneliness, but is truly your own isolation. Will you not go to him, Father? Will you not answer his unspoken prayer?”
The ice that had been slowly coating his insides melted, freeing both his tears and his spirit. As the water flowed from the corner of his eyes down his cheeks, Eira stepped forward to wipe the tracks clear. “Do not fear what lies beyond the door, it is merely your fate, and none can change that. You must face it, or you will live in it’s shadow all your life.”
Crowley knew that, hell, there was nothing he knew better than that. But, all alone, in a dark chamber designed for giving yourself up to your demons, he couldn’t see it. Eira had shed the tiniest bit of light, but it was enough to illuminate the room he had been cowering in the corner of. The shadows had crept back, and there was now only the door to open, as she had said. And then, a hallway to walk in hopes of finding Lucifer down here.
With a deep breath, Crowley rose to his feet, now standing before Eira, taller than he had stood in quite some time. His slouch, which was habit after years of poor health, was carefully cracked out of and he stood at a fuller height. He smiled down at Eira with sorrow and wistfulness, knowing full well that this would be his last chance to see her. “….Thank you. And thank God for me as well, would you? For….. for answering Lucifer’s prayer… and for sending you to me…. I love you, little one. Haven’t had the chance to say that in far too long…. Take…. take good care of your Mother for me, would you?”
The mask of messenger slipped from Eira for just a moment as she answered the question that was not a part of prayer. She smiled up at her Father and nodded, already fading with a wave of a small hand.
By the time she was gone, Crowley’s hand already rested on the door, and he carefully pulled at the handle, the door sliding open. There, a ways down the hall, was the angel responsible for the prayers, head still bowed as ze knelt on the ground.
Lucifer.
Angel.
Saviour
Lover
The words raced through his head like fire, all of them associated with one creature.
Silent, careful steps brought him closer and closer to Lucifer and it was not long before he stood not two feet from the angel who was so motionless he could have been thought a statue. Slowly, Crowley sank down to join him, unsure of what one could say in a situation like theirs. In the end, he decided that words could not portray it, so, with a bit of maneuvering, he opened the barrier that allowed them to communicate telepathically slightly, allowing emotions to flow through. Love, fear, sorrow, guilt, pain, worry, a flood of thoughts and feelings that could not be put into words, but could be, at least, expressed in silence.
Luci Has Bad Ideas
graceexiststobefallenfrom:
thecrossroadskingofhell:
graceexiststobefallenfrom:
Do you really think I’ve gotten any better at texting? You’d be more frustrated at the fact that I wasn’t making sense. -chuckles again and then raises an eyebrow- Why, are you expecting me to nest in your couch or something? I’m no bird. If I wanted a nap I’d be flopping on you and not the couch, mh? -shakes his head- Happy early Easter. And before you ask, I didn’t carbonate it either. Not that it’d have any effect on dear ol’ Cecil, but forewarning.
-snorts- Someday, I’ll teach you how to use that phone properly, dear. It’s not hard once you get the hang of technology.-laughs softly- No, I wasn’t assuming you were going to nest. If you did, I might resort to asking you if everything was alright. I make a better sleeping surface than the couch, do I? -poured some into the glass, raising it to Lucifer with a smile- Happy Easter to you as well, Luci, and thanks for the reassurance. -raised the glass to his lips, draining it-
Don’t give me that, it’s like the fucking phone has a mind of its own. It invents words on you. And the buttons are too tiny. And it has too many damn functions. -leans his head back against the couch in feigned dramatic frustration- Well, yes. Considering the majority of the time I don’t actually sleep and I just enjoying watching you sleep. You’re comfy. -tilts his head at him- Promise you’re not going to kill me after this, alright?
Lucifer, that’s called auto-correct…It’s not inventing words. -smirks, chuckling- Glad I make a good source of entertainment, and a comfortable surface. Two for one, hmm? -raises an eyebrow as he pours another glass and sips from it, pulling at his collar as a wave of warmth washes over him, eyes slipping to red- Oh, why would I want to kill you, Luci? You’re much too important to me for me to kill.
Luci Has Bad Ideas
graceexiststobefallenfrom:
thecrossroadskingofhell:
-takes a deep breath through his nose- Yes, that’s one way to get me aggravated rather swiftly. Though, it may also leave me quite confused. -snorts at his change of position- Perhaps you should just leave a pillow and blanket on the couch for how you like to sit on my couch. -moves to sit a little closer to Lucifer, pouring a glass for himself- Sure you don’t want one?
Do you really think I’ve gotten any better at texting? You’d be more frustrated at the fact that I wasn’t making sense. -chuckles again and then raises an eyebrow- Why, are you expecting me to nest in your couch or something? I’m no bird. If I wanted a nap I’d be flopping on you and not the couch, mh? -shakes his head- Happy early Easter. And before you ask, I didn’t carbonate it either. Not that it’d have any effect on dear ol’ Cecil, but forewarning.
-snorts- Someday, I’ll teach you how to use that phone properly, dear. It’s not hard once you get the hang of technology.-laughs softly- No, I wasn’t assuming you were going to nest. If you did, I might resort to asking you if everything was alright. I make a better sleeping surface than the couch, do I? -poured some into the glass, raising it to Lucifer with a smile- Happy Easter to you as well, Luci, and thanks for the reassurance. -raised the glass to his lips, draining it-
Luci Has Bad Ideas
graceexiststobefallenfrom:
thecrossroadskingofhell:
There are other ways to make me angry, you just haven’t stumbled across them yet, Luci. -chuckles softly- I feel as if Nick wouldn’t want anything intended for my consumption. -grins at him- You speak as if I don’t trust you. Of course I’ll drink.
Oh, next time I should text you from Heaven claiming to be pregnant with your child and demanding cake, right? -cackles in amusement before flopping into the couch and throwing his feet up on the coffee table- Ah, I give no reason for you not to trust me. I don’t lie, do I? Maybe stretch the truth or exaggerate, but that’s different.
-takes a deep breath through his nose- Yes, that’s one way to get me aggravated rather swiftly. Though, it may also leave me quite confused. -snorts at his change of position- Perhaps you should just leave a pillow and blanket on the couch for how you like to sit on my couch. -moves to sit a little closer to Lucifer, pouring a glass for himself- Sure you don’t want one?
