Crewt Oneshots

the devil's in the details (but you got a friend in me)

Hi! I'm just putting these two one-shots into the same book.

Info for this one: 3k, angels and demons au, pre-relationship...

And...

Sequel if you guys want it!

The man in the street is pretty. Too pretty. Beautiful.

In a very angelic way.

In a way that makes Credence's skin crawl. His blood boil. His heartbeat kick. Danger, danger, danger.

The man is tall and thin, with bright curls that make him inherently cheerful. If Credence focuses hard enough, he can see the freckles dotting the long-fingered hands that peek out of the electric blue coat this man has on, catching eyes.

That's not what caught Credence's eyes.

What caught Credence's eyes is the way the sun plays off of the air around this redhead when he moves, the glint of his hair, the light that catches in his eyes. It's like he glows. It's like the world is spinning around this man, right here. It's like there's a halo above his head. It's like if Credence focuses very hard, he can see the outline of white, feathered wings blooming from where the man's shoulder blades are beneath this bright blue coat.

It's like there's "beautiful" written in the man's smile.

It's like there are rows of weaponry especially made to "defend" angels from demons like Credence in that case with "Newt Scamander" scrawled on the side of it. As if the demons aren't driven into the gutters, gorging on blood and life only because they must, because they've been hunted out of where they drain the life from forests, far from civilizations. They didn't become a threat to humanity until they had no choice.

Demons inspire disorder and drain morals from anyone they're near– but curiously, only from humans. If they'd just been left in peace... but the angels will never give them peace, and Credence, Credence needs to get as far away from this angel as he can.

Demons aren't allowed in hell anymore. It's too full. They were meant to be up above, eating away the old parts of the world. Hell wasn't meant to hold so many demons, and they aren't letting any new demons in anymore, but he's heard of contacts someone very desperate might contact to sneak them across the border.

He's desperate. So desperate. He never learned to fight, or control any of it. Instead, his animalistic hunger reaches out in tendrils and drains people of their life hungrily, clumsily, horribly. His mother hated him. Tossed him right out of hell. Because he wanted to sleep with a man. Because he wanted to look for a forest instead of a human. Because he wanted to be something good.

Demons aren't good.

If Credence wanted to learn to be good, he could go find himself an angel and pray to 'God' that the angel wouldn't slaughter him on sight. If he wanted to abandon Satan, Mary Lou said, Credence could go slum it up in the world above, this much closer to heaven.

Credence wanted back down. He wanted back down right now.

He wove through the streets as smoothly as he could, trying not to draw eyes, pulling the brim of his hat lower on his head. Ignoring the way someone coughed in his wake, another tripped, another gasped and clutched at her heart, another pulled out a knife with a shout.

Credence would be no match for an angel who smiled like the sun. The brighter the all, the shorter your life, they all said. This joke of a life Credence had, this undead life. They didn't have a word for it, existing without living. It seemed fitting for them to simply not have a word. One step away from not existing at all. Credence would see the dark, gray-black stain on a wall or sidewalk and know a demon became ash right on that spot.