Aug 25, 2025
the deed is done and the first two chapters are up 😔
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the deed is done and the first two chapters are up 😔
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
coffee and vanilla
When stuck in a janitorial closet with a bunch of security guards after you, there’s only one way to keep yourself off their radar: pretend to be a couple who ran off to have a make out session. It’s just an act, though... right?
we were fools to think that nothing could go wrong (chapter 1)
A/N: Title is from "Why Am I The One" by fun. (Alternatively titled “Milo can have little a Murphy's Law on purpose, as a treat.”). Here's to a new multi-chapter! Pray for me!
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Milo Murphy had always prided himself on remaining optimistic no matter the circumstances. Even living within a veritable cyclone of calamity as he did, he always tried to look on the bright side of life and hope for the best in any situation.
At present, though, Milo Murphy was absolutely positive he was going to die.
***
Five minutes earlier...
Milo dug through his backpack frantically, looking for anything that might be of use. He’d already burned through most of its contents just trying to stay alive the past hour, and he began to feel more and more worried as he ran through the remaining items.
A garden spade. A small piece of oak. A sewing kit. Seven dollars in change. A camera he knew no longer focused. His house key.
That was it.
Pressing his back harder to the crumbled wall he was hiding behind, he tried to make himself as unnoticeable as possible. He could hear the heavy footfalls of the mechs patrolling the streets growing closer, the grating screech of their metal joints causing him to wince.
He looked over to where Melissa and Zack were lying, both out cold, having been dragged to safety by Milo before he had to stop and hide when the pain from his leg, which was definitely broken, finally caught up to him. They were both littered with cuts and bruises, dirt covering their faces and staining their torn clothing. A thin line of blood trickled down Melissa’s face from the gash on her scalp.
He didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t try to run without risking damaging his leg even further, and there was no way that he’d be able to carry both of his unconscious friends in this state anyway. He wondered if maybe Cavendish and Dakota had made it away from the mechs, and if maybe they’d come to find them and save them in time...
The thundering footsteps grew ever nearer.
He scooted closer to Zack and Melissa and tried to make himself even smaller. All he could do was hope that they weren’t discovered. Looking around at the rubble-covered downtown area, he swallowed thickly. Buildings were half-collapsed and roads were covered in cracks and holes, the result of the blaster fire from the initial stage of the attack. The air was filled with dust and smoke, and he could hear sirens wailing faintly in the distance.
He figured he and his friends may have been in the more fortunate contingent of downtown Danville’s citizens that day. Not that that was saying much.
Suddenly, a squadron of mechs rounded the corner at the end of the street. Milo froze, praying that they would pass by without noticing him.
The squadron stopped, and then slowly turned towards him.
Bile rose in his throat. He fought the urge to throw up and promptly failed.
The mechs began to pound down the street towards him, and he felt panic building in his chest. A few more of the imposing machines appeared in the side streets nearby, crushing any remaining hope he might have had about fleeing.
He was surrounded.
The lead mech raised an arm, bringing the squadron to a halt in front of Milo. A two-story high humanoid robot made of cold, dark metal, it seemed to stare down at him before the visor on its head opened, revealing a sharp-featured man sitting inside its cockpit.
He grinned wickedly. "And you thought you could run, how quaint. Alas, there was no way you could have outwitted our sensors, and so here we find ourselves." He pulled a lever on his control panel, and the mech's arm levelled at Milo, the front of it opening up with a loud clank to reveal a blaster cannon. "With you and your friends gone, Milo, we will be one step closer to subduing Danville at last, and when we do, there will be no one to stop us from taking over the world back in our time!"
"You— you'll never win!" Milo tried to muster up what he could only hope was a defiant look, though he knew he probably didn't look all too defiant just sitting on the ground, complete with a busted leg and unconscious friends.
The man tsked. "Brave words coming from a child currently on the wrong end of a cannon, hmm? No, once you're gone, we will only have a few more insurgents to capture for our victory to be assured. Not that that will be hard, with most of them being children and all. I will say, coming back to the past to purge the most problematic resistance members as children was an inspired idea." He smiled. "Anyway, I suppose this is goodbye, Milo Murphy."
The blaster began to hum, glowing blue.
Milo's whole body went cold. Tears were streaming down his cheeks, cutting lines through the layer of dirt and blood on them. He felt a tingling, pins-and-needles-like sensation in his fingertips, which quickly spread to his hands, and then his arms, but he couldn't care less at this point.
This was it, huh? He and his friends were going to die here. He was going to be obliterated at the tender age of thirteen.
Of all the ways he had expected to go... this was not one of them.
The humming grew louder, and the man in the mech moved to pull the trigger.
Instinctively, Milo threw his hands in front of his face, as though he expected them to shield him from the incoming blast.
What he didn't expect was for a searing bolt of red energy to arc off of them, hitting the mech square in the chest.
It pitched backwards, sending the blaster fire into the air over Milo's head. It managed to keep from falling over, but that was overshadowed by the horrible groan that came from it as its leg joints suddenly snapped, sending the cockpit and the chassis plummeting to the ground.
Milo was shaking. He could faintly hear the man screaming over the thumping of his heartbeat in his ears, but that was quickly cut off as a large chunk of a nearby building broke off, falling directly on the cockpit, crushing it instantly.
He lowered his hands and stared at them, realizing that they were surrounded by a faint red glow. Every so often, the tingling feeling would increase and some small sparks of energy would dance between his fingertips.
"What the...?" he whispered hoarsely.
Suddenly, a chorus of creaking noises came from around him, drawing his attention back to the mechs.
Every single one of them had a blaster trained on him and his friends.
He felt a surge of adrenaline rush through his blood, and he shakily raised his hands again.
The last thing he saw before he blacked out was an explosion of red.
we were fools to think that nothing could go wrong (chapter 3)
Milo woke up from a restless sleep with a jolt, the sound of screaming still ringing faintly in his ears. His heart raced and he was breathing unevenly, each inhale and exhale shallow and shaky. He couldn't bring himself to be more than barely cognizant of the large boulder that had smashed through his bedroom wall at some point in the night, leaving a sizable hole that let the chilly morning air in.
He closed his eyes again, trying to steady his breaths, before he sat up and forced himself to get out of bed.
"C'mon, Murphy, you gotta get going," he murmured groggily, fighting back a yawn.
Once he had climbed down the ladder to the floor (thankfully without incident), he turned his attention to the boulder and let out a small, tired sigh.
It was a bit of a distraction, at least.
"Hey Mom?" he called as he walked to grab clothes from his closet, skirting the near-car-sized rock now sat in the middle of his room.
"Yes?" came her voice faintly from downstairs.
He pulled out a button-up, slightly beat-up body armour, and shorts and began to change into them. "Boulder came through the wall last night!"
"I'll call insurance!" she replied. "Also, breakfast is on the table whenever you're ready!"
"I'll be down in a sec!" He pulled on a sweater vest and grabbed his backpack, which he had packed the night before. "Alright, first day back to school," he said to himself. "Let's make it incredible!"
***
He tried to ignore how his voice shook a little on the last syllable.
"Milo!" came a chorus of voices as he walked up to the bus stop, hands tightly gripping the straps of his backpack.
He grinned as he saw who it was. "Hey Melissa, hey Za— oof!" He was cut off as Melissa rushed to embrace him, lifting him off the ground.
She put him back down. "Thank god you're back! It was getting so boring around here without you."
"Yeah, I think I woulda died if I had to sit through one more history class without anything catching on fire." Zack added. "You feelin' better? You had it pretty rough there for a while."
Milo rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, I'm just a little tired. And my leg's still in a splint, of course, but at least I can walk without crutches now!"
"Oh yeah right, your leg! Didn't it break that when we got knocked out during the fight?" Melissa asked. She and Zack had been for a visit with Milo once while he was still in hospital care, but it had been cut short when a nurse had come in for a routine checkup and kicked them out. They hadn't exactly had time to discuss much beyond how Milo was out of his coma and how they all were glad that everyone was at least somewhat okay. Along with that, the fact that she was half-out when the whole leg-crushing event had transpired made Milo wonder if she had forgotten his leg had been broken entirely.
He assumed he was right, seeing her expression turn mildly embarrassed, as if she'd heard what she'd said and only then realized how it sounded.
He smiled softly at her. "Yeah. I was lucky that I only had my leg hit by that falling wall, unlike you two. That must've hurt."
"Yeah..." she replied, touching the back of her head and grimacing. "Good thing, too, because if you'd been out too we would have been screwed."
"Oh yeah, we heard about what you did, by the way, pulling us to safety after we got knocked out. Thanks for that, man. You... you definitely saved our lives there," Zack said. "And you did it with a broken leg."
"Eh, no biggie," replied Milo, laughing nervously, trying to push the resurfacing memories of the event as far out of his mind as possible. "All that matters is that you guys are fine."
"Dude, you saved us from some big-ass scary mechs while you had a broken leg! Don't sell yourself short," exclaimed Melissa. “If it weren’t for you, we would have been in some deep shit.”
Suddenly, a voice came from behind them. “If it weren’t for Milo, you wouldn’t have needed to be saved in the first place, you know.”
Melissa whirled around, glaring. “Shut your piehole, Bradley.”
Bradley leaned up against the bus stop signpost and shrugged. “I’m just saying, Milo's the whole reason stuff like that happens. Giant killer robots—"
"Mechs." Melissa corrected.
"—mechs, whatever, they don't just show up ready to go on a murderous rampage around normal people!" Bradley crossed his arms. "Half of downtown was destroyed, Melissa, and they're still cleaning up the robot—"
"Mech."
"Shut up. They're still cleaning up the robot carcasses and trying to find the bodies of people who died in the building collapses!"
Uncomfortably vivid flashes of memories from the battle were now rushing back to Milo, and he gulped. "Hey guys..." he said quietly, but he was cut off as Melissa took a step towards Bradley.
"So? None of that is Milo's fault!"
"Everything that could have gone wrong did, Melissa! Our city was invaded by robots from the future who, if I'm remembering their speech from the news correctly, were, oh right, looking for Milo!"
Melissa was beginning to look like she was going to scream. "Oh no, you do not get to blame Milo for this."
"Why not?"
"Because he's not responsible for anything that happened that day! In fact, he probably was the reason more people didn't get hurt! He's certainly the reason Zack and I aren't dead!"
"Guys?" said Milo again. "Could you stop?"
"Without him around there wouldn't have been people endangered in the first place! Him being there caused it!"
"Bradley, I will say this one last time: none of this is Milo's fault! He didn't hurt anyone!"
At that, Milo's face paled. He remembered Cavendish and Dakota's account of the post-battle destruction, remembered the mech he saw destroyed right in front of his own eyes, right after he'd hit it with a bolt of energy he still hadn't figured out how he'd created.
Oh, he definitely hurt some people. Maybe not the people Melissa was referring to, but still...
He wondered if he'd ever stop feeling nauseous whenever he re-remembered that fact.
Probably not.
"Well—"
"Will you two stop!?" Zack exclaimed suddenly. "Some of us don't want to hear it."
The two of them quieted and turned to face him.
He sighed. "Thank you." He then turned to Milo and placed a gentle hand on his arm. "You alright?"
Milo realized he was shaking a little. "Oh, yeah, I— I'm fine."
"Cool. Just take some deep breaths, okay?"
Milo nodded and did as he was told, slowly breathing in and out until he began to feel a little less shaky.
They all stood there in silence for a moment, Melissa still fuming, Zack maintaining a comforting hold on Milo's arm, Bradley repeatedly curling and uncurling his plant hand and sulking, until Chad eventually walked up to join them at the bus stop.
"Hey guys, what's going on?" he asked, breaking the silence.
Melissa sighed as the bus pulled up in front of them. "Shut up, Chad."
"What'd I say?"
***
The morning had been relatively uneventful, which Milo was grateful for, with only one thing in science class exploding when it wasn't supposed to. Sure, the blast knocked the mouse cage off the shelf and let the rodents free, but that was nothing that couldn't be easily dealt with. He could tell Melissa and Bradley were still mad at each other, as they had been intensely refusing to so much as make eye contact all class. He was also pretty sure he'd seen Melissa try to slam the safety goggle box closed on Bradley's hand.
As much as he appreciated her standing up for him, he felt a little bad, seeing as he was partially the reason the two of them were angry at each other. Plus, she'd been fuming all morning. That was never fun for anybody. Her fuming sessions were sparse but legendary, and he knew it would be a while before she'd even begin to consider making up with Bradley.
Cliche or not, he really just wished they could all get along.
He also knew from experience that having that safety goggle box slam closed on your hand really hurt. Even Bradley didn't deserve that.
Eventually, lunchtime rolled around, and he, Zack, and Melissa sat down at their regular table to eat. Milo rummaged around in his backpack for a second before pulling out his lunch bag, which was looking a little squished.
"Maybe next time I should pack the anchor nearer to the bottom," he mused to himself as he took his sandwich out of the bag. "Oh well, squished PB&J is just as good as regular PB&J."
"I'd even argue it's better," Zack commented, pulling out his own lunch. "It gives the sandwich character." He emphasized the last word with a quick, vaguely Italian gesture of his hand and a chef's kiss.
Milo laughed, and Melissa cracked a small smile before returning to her fuming.
They sat there, eating in silence for a few minutes after that, before Milo sighed and spoke up.
"Melissa, you don't have to keep being mad at Bradley. Sure, he said some not-so-nice things, but you know I'm used to that by now. Some people just don't get it, and that's okay."
She put down her sandwich and leaned her face against her hand. "I know, it's just—" she made a spluttering noise and waved her free hand around. "He's such a dick! None of that stuff was your fault! It's like he thinks that you control it or something, and then choose to let stuff go wrong! Which is so not true!"
"I know, Melissa."
"It's just— arrrrrgggh!" She pressed her face into her hands and muttered something that Milo couldn't hear but made Zack's eyes widen.
"I'm gonna pretend like I didn't hear you say that," he said, blinking incredulously. "Because holy crap."
"What'd she say?" asked Milo.
Zack shook his head. "I refuse to repeat any of those words." He then leaned as farback in his chair as he could, eyes darting around the room, obviously grasping to find something else they could talk about. "Sooo, uh, hmm... oh!” He leaned forward again. “Imagine if Milo really was able to control Murphy's Law, though! Wouldn't that be wild? It would be like a weird superpower!"
Milo felt like he was going to die, right then and there, but he forced a pained smile. "Yeah, imagine that..." He giggled nervously. "It would be pretty wild."
Melissa perked up. "Yeah, what if you could, like, shoot it all like—" She punched the air in front of her a few times, like she was blasting something. "—pew pew pew! And whatever it hit would get Murphy's Law'd, like with the mech suit you guys used on the pistachions but, like, smaller. And you wouldn't need the Flynn-Fletcher brothers for it." She grinned conspiratorially. "Maybe you could use it to give Bradley a little taste of his own bullshit theory!"
He didn't respond, unable to focus on the words, because for the second time that day, images of the battle with the mechs had begun to flood Milo's head, as hard as he tried to ignore them, only this time he couldn't help but imagine the consequences of hitting Bradley with a bolt of that energy too. Would he be crushed by a collapsing building? Flattened by a falling telephone pole? Would he spontaneously burst into flames?
Would he be hurt, just like every other person he'd hit that day?
"Ex-excuse me," he said, standing up abruptly and beginning to walk away from the table.
"Where're you going?" Zack called after him.
"Washroom," he lied, voice weak, as he hurried away.
By the time he reached his favourite obscured alcove under the back staircase, he could no longer keep the memories of the battle at bay. He leaned back against the wall for support, breaths quickening as the events played out in wicked clarity in his mind. He could see every blast at him and his friends, feel the panic as they were knocked unconscious and the helplessness that followed when he had to stop running and hide. And the last few moments of the battle? He got to see those play out with the knowledge of exactly what he was causing to happen in that moment.
Eventually the memories began to recede, but his heart rate only quickened as he realized he could still feel his hands buzzing uncomfortably. He slowly brought them up, heart dropping as he confirmed what he had feared: they were surrounded by that red glow, small sparks jumping off of them.
He began to feel panicky again. He hated being panicky, too. It made being able to swiftly respond to danger a lot more difficult. Ironically, that made him begin to panic even more. His heart clenched.
Then, without warning, he felt something akin to a static shock travel through him, and a burst of red sparks flew from his hands, a few of them striking things nearby while most of them hit the underside of the stairs above him. He watched one of them hit a light in the stairwell, and the cables attaching it to the ceiling broke with a loud snap, causing the fixture to immediately fall to the ground, knocking over a garbage can nearby and spilling its contents everywhere. Milo cringed, but his attention was quickly stolen by a loud cracking noise from above him. He looked up to see a large crack spreading through the underside of the staircase.
"Uh oh," he breathed, before diving out from under the stairs just as they began to give way. With a school-shaking rumble, the whole flight crumbled and fell to the ground below.
Milo pushed himself to his knees, staring at the rubble in front of him.
There was no denying it anymore. What he had done that day hadn't been a fluke, or a fear-induced hallucination.
That red energy stuff, that focused destruction? It came from him. And now, somehow, he'd unintentionally done it for a second time.
Watching the dust settle in front of him, with his still-tingling hands stuffed into his pockets and the memories of the battle still lingering in his mind, he became acutely aware of how much the idea that he might accidentally keep doing it again terrified him.
Out Of Time
A/N: @obsidiancreates suggested last night that I write a hero au fic where Schneep and JJ have to help out Marvin... it’s spiralled out of control from there.
I have forgotten my entire taglist... uhh @a-humble-narcissus @kairomancerr @egopocalypse @dakotathewhale oh please let me know if I’ve forgotton you or if you want to be added/removed
———————————
“Timekeeper?" Marvin asked quietly, watching the figure slowly step forward out of the shadows of the alley.
The Glitch smiled behind his mask as the man moved to stand next to him. "I'll give you a choice, M͘agn̕͞i̧͝͡f͢i̧c͘e̛͟n̨t̵: join my ranks, or I'll let my pet here show you what a mistake you've made."
Marv growled. "You think I'd ever join you? Bullshit." He let a small flicker of flame slowly climb up his arm, readying himself for a fight.
"I was̢ w͠o̶r̀ŗi̸e͡d ҉y͢ou'̵d͝ saỳ t̴h̢a̸t..." The Glitch grinned, and his eye flashed green.
The Timekeeper's head snapped up violently, and he took a step towards Marvin.
The magician raised his hand. "Not a step closer, buddy, or I'll— what the—?"
The Timekeeper cocked a grin, and the flames in his hand disappeared. He felt bile rise in his throat, dizziness sweeping him as he tried to light the flames again, only to have them snap off a second later. All he could feel was déjà vu.
"He could keep doing this forev͢e̛r҉, you know? Throwing you back a few seconds, back to when you didn't have your magic flowing," The Glitch said, giggling. "You'd n̷e̷v̧er ͞wįn."
Marvin scowled. "Well, you won't win this, Glitch."
The masked man threw his head back and cackled. "I have time on my side, Magnificent! I've already ẁo҉n͡!" He snapped his fingers, and the Timekeeper nodded.
Marvin screamed.
***
All Jameson could hear was the ticking of a clock. His head was filled with static, and all he could think of was the ticking, loud and constant.
Loud and constant and his.
The man in front of him had steel in his eyes and flames at his wrists, but as he looked at JJ through his cat-shaped mask, betrayal and fear flickered across his face.
He was causing that fear, the expression deepening every time he wound back time on the man, extinguishing his flames. The static told him to be proud.
He was.
Suddenly, he felt it push him towards the man, so he walked. As he grew closer, the ticking grew louder and the static grew thicker.
And then it told him to take.
The ticking rang in his ears and he knew and he wanted to take
take everything take it all it was his it was his it was all his to do with as he pleased every second every minute was his he needed to tākę i͜t͠
He needed to take everything.
He barely registered the man in front of his screaming as he pulled the years from his life, slowly syphoning off every minute, watching them twirl around him in a delicate dance until the man collapsed to his knees and then onto the ground, no life left to give.
Static and satisfaction settled into his chest. It was his.
The ticking rang in his ears, loud and constant.
Then the static came and whispered in his ear, stoking his hair gently. "Good job, little Timekeeper. Such a good little p̢up͡p̧et, taking and taking and taking," it whispered. JJ nodded, not feeling the tears dripping down his face. "You did so well..."
The static rushed in, and he blacked out.
***
Jameson came to, head spinning. His whole body ached, and he sat up, head spinning. What had just—
Magnificent lay, unmoving, on the pavement in front of him.
All at once, the memories of what had just happened came crashing in on him, and he struggled not to throw up.
"No, no, nonono," he cried, crawling over to the hero. "Magnificent, wake up, wake up!" His slides flashed rapidly as he shook him, although inside he knew it was pointless.
Magnificent was dead.
And he had killed him.
His breath caught, and he felt all the blood drain from his face.
He...
He killed someone. Took every second of time they had from them.
And he'd enjoyed it.
His breathing began to speed up, and he grabbed his hair, rocking slowing back and forth. Slides flickered in the air beside him, filled with apologies and denials and silent pleas for help.
With tears pouring down his cheeks, he wished desperately that he could scream. He needed help he needed help he someone god help
Everything around him shattered.
Ticking rang in his ears.
help who could help he needed them here now he needed help what had he done?
He pulled.
***
One moment, Henrik was quietly enjoy a cup of coffee, and the next, he found himself next to the Timekeeper and Magnificent.
One of whom was panicking, the other dead.
Schneep's heart dropped. Swirling around the Timekeeper he could see bright orange of panic, laced with the muddy reds and purples of grief and fear.
And around Marvin was nothing.
The Timekeeper looked up at him, desperation and mania in his eyes. "Please, Medic, you must heal him! I've done something to him, taken all his time, but I know that you can save him! Right?"
Henrik looked down at the two of them, colour draining from his face. "Mein freund... I cannot heal someone who is already dead."
The Timekeeper's face dropped. "No, you must. I couldn't have killed him, no... No, no, no..."
Schneep took a step back, feeling something around him start to shift.
"No, I couldn't have, no, oh what have I done whathaveIdonewhathaveIdonewhathaveIdone?"
With that, something fractured.
Henrik stumbled backwards, only to be pulled back to where he was a few second prior, and then to find himself with his hands pressed to Marvin's still chest. The Timekeeper seemed to be experiencing the same thing, jumping forwards and backwards in time, his expression rapidly changing. Schneep managed to find a second to look up, only to see the time of day begin to change, jumping from night to day like a skipping record.
"Timekeeper!" he tried to yell, feeling his words get swallowed up by the jumps. He was thrown to his feet again. "Timekeeper, you must stop this!"
He threw himself forward, arms wrapping around the smaller man. With a thought, he grabbed hold of his emotions and began to reign them in, trying not to be too harsh about it, feeling a little bit guilty about using his powers without consent.
"Let us calm down now, ja? It is alright," he whispered, patting his back. "You can explain to me what has happened, and then we can see what can be done."
The Timekeeper nodded slowly, his breathing still shaky, and Henrik gently pulled out of the hug.
"Tell me what has happened."
The Timekeeper took a deep inhale. "Something had me not in my right mind, doc. It told me to..." He looked down, breath hitching. "It told me to take the Magnificent's time from him. And I couldn't say no, so I drained the living right out of him, year by year. And now he's gone and it's all my fault and—"
Schneep shushed him. "It is not your fault, Timekeeper. It is, I will assume, the Glitch's. He is an evil, evil man, and it is not your fault what he made you to do."
"...no?"
"Of course not. You were not the one in the controls of your own mind. What you can control for, though, is what you do now, ja? If you could take the years straight out of him, then why not see if you can put them right back in his little body?"
"I could try..." replied the Timekeeper tentatively.
Henrik kneeled to the ground, placing his hands on his friend's still body, praying that the plan would work. "I will do the healing of him at the same time, to help. Now, work your timey-wimey magics! Little Marvin is not done on this Earth quite yet!"
The Timekeeper took a deep breath and placed his hands on Marvin's body as well.
***
Marvin awoke to a ticking, loud and constant. His body and mind ached, and he swore as he sat up, feeling like he'd aged a hundred years.
He pried his eyes open to see two very tired, very relieved looking people beside him, their hands lingering near him.
"It worked..." said the Timekeeper.
Marvin blinked, shocking away. "What worked? Are you not still evil or possessed or whatever now? Am I missing something here?"
Schneep patted him. "Perhaps it is best if we explain later. You have had a long day."
He shrugged. "Whatever you say, man. I just need a nap."
Demons Don’t Cry
A/N: Here's that hurt/comfort fic I've been promising! Goodness gracious, I spent a long time in this, please appreciate it, I'm begging you. I hope you enjoy.
TW: Torture and mutilation, though I tried to keep descriptions and gore to a minimum. Also knives, and cursing.
_______________________________
Crowley didn't know how long he'd been trapped in the church for.
The constant burn of the consecrated ground beneath him made his feet sting and his body ache. His mind felt fuzzy, and he slumped forward, as he had many times over his imprisonment, tired and weak.
A voice boomed from the other end of the room. "Demon, do not move."
Footsteps began to approach him. Slowly, he looked up and saw a priest approaching where he was bound.
The priest smiled cruelly as he came to stand in front of Crowley. "Can you feel God's wrath upon you now, demon? Does it burn you?"
Crowley bared his teeth in a grin. "Feels rather like a nice sauna, actually," he managed, voice cracking slightly from disuse. "I could get used to it."
The priest laughed coldly. "Well, that's unfortunate for you, then, as you will soon be gone from this world. I will see to that."
"What are you going to do? Try to exorcise me again?" Crowley leaned backwards, cocking an eyebrow. "Use your faith to drive me out, oh holy father? Because that worked so very well last time."
Silence filled the church for a moment, then a grin slowly spread across the priests face and he looked into Crowley's eyes. His expression alone made Crowley jerk away.
"I'm going to make you writhe in pain for your sins, demon, and see how long you last."
“Are you flirting with me?” “You finally noticed?” with Ineffable Husbands, but only if you'd like to of course. I'm sending in a few for variety of choice.
Crowley leaned back into the soft couch cushions, relaxing as he watched Aziraphale busy himself tidying the bookshop. The angel whistled quietly to the tune coming from the gramophone as he dusted the bookshelves.
Crowley grabbed the half-full bottle of wine beside him and took a swig. There was a pleasant buzzing in his head, and he sighed contentedly, setting it down next to another, already empty bottle.
Aziraphale looked over at him, momentarily pausing his dusting. "Are you alright, Crowley?" he asked.
"Eh?" Crowley blinked and nodded, rubbing his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, never better... hey, is that a new bow tie?"
Aziraphale's eyes lit up, and he set down his duster. "Why, I was hoping you'd notice! I though it might be time for a small change." He straightened it, glowing with pride. "Does— does it look good on me?"
Crowley raised his eyebrows, peering over the top of his glasses. His lips quirked in approval. "Good? It looks great!" He shrugged and pulled off his glasses, beginning to gesture wildly with them in hand. "I mean, not to say you don't always look great, because you absolutely do, but the bow tie is a nice chance, like you said. You look—" He paused. "You look marvellous as always, angel. Even more marvellous, actually."
He took another long drink of wine to Aziraphale's confused silence.
"You think that I always look... marvellous?" the angel asked quietly. "Thank you, but what prompted you to..." Suddenly, realization crossed his face. "Are you— have you been flirting with me, Crowley?"
Crowley rolled his eyes. "Six thousand years," he muttered. "And you finally noticed." He stood up, slipping his sunglasses back on. "Well, I suppose I should get going." he announced, louder. He shivered for a moment, sobering up. "It's been a pleasure, Aziraphale."
Aziraphale stood in stunned silence as the demon began to make his way towards the door.
"See you later, my angel."
With a ring of the bell of above the door, Crowley was gone.
Project NOVA
Hey there @ren--mon, it's me, your secret santa! I hope that you've been having a wonderful holiday season! Here's my gift to you, since I heard you like Googs! I hope you enjoy.
Merry Christmas!
*Content warnings for some mild torture (it's done to a robot so there's no gore or anything) and minor character deaths*
***
PROJECT NOVA LOG 1
DATE: 07-18-20█
DR JONATHAN █████
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[Begin transcription]
JONATHAN: Alright, this is Project NOVA log number 1. These logs will be covering the development and testing of Project NOVA, a program, aiming to invent the future of virtual assistants, that has been in production for the last little while. I'm Jonathan █████, head of the project. Let's begin.