#/ the apple crumble was more of a last-minute decision after she saw everyone making chocolate ljhgfghjk | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

caemthe · 3 months

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Valentine’s Gift from Deirdre of the Sorrows

Deirdre is nowhere to be found but that’s nothing new.

Even though she’s incapable of concealing her presence as she isn’t an Assassin, the Saber tends to disappear when you least expect it without saying a word. It's not an issue as she always returns when you need her but it makes it difficult to find her for more mundane things. Where could Deirdre be this time around? She wasn't in the cafeteria, nor the library, nor the training grounds, nor other common areas. No one answers when you knock on her door and even the heroic spirits she often hangs out with say that they haven't seen her that day.

But, like all previous years, Valentine's is a particularly busy day in Chaldea. There's not enough time in the day to search for a single person in all of the chaos and, before you realize it, the day has already passed. Exhausted but content, you return to your room for a well-deserved rest. But, when looking in the direction of your bed, more precisely, at your nightstand, you notice it.

"!!"

It's not chocolate, but a mini apple crumble with vanilla ice cream and caramel on top. The small card with a name written on it next to the dessert indicates that it's a gift from Deirdre. Oddly enough, the dessert is warm enough and the ice cream has barely melted so it can't have been that long since it was placed there. Does that mean Deirdre is close by? Something to think about after finishing this appetizing-looking dessert.

It has a decadent yet comforting blend of tastes and textures. The warm and soft apples, the buttery crunch of the topping, and the sweet coldness of the vanilla ice cream are all delicious on their own and make the perfect combination together. It's the type of dessert that brings a smile to anyone's face. By the time you take the last spoonfuls of it, you realize it has a nostalgic taste even though it’s your first time trying Deirdre's cooking. It seems that some foods are designed to remind you of home.

When you put the spoon down, the note next to the plate falls to the floor and, when you pick it up, you realize that the card opens. The handwriting is simple but clean. You wonder what Deirdre wanted to tell you to need to write it down.

"..."

My Gratitude To You It’s been a journey full of surprises, of fighting back, of achieving the impossible, of meeting all sorts of people, of learning about yourself, of living on the edge. Regardless of how it all turns out in the end, it cannot be denied that it was one hell of a journey. And that’s something to be proud of, yes? There was the good and the bad, but today I want to focus on the good parts: the friends made along the way, the fun and laughter we shared, the taste of victory despite the odds, the forging of your own path… These are all things I wasn’t meant to experience. But now I know all these amazing things that make me wonder… Is this what life is about? Because I like it very much. I wonder if it's the same for you. Please tell me about it one of these days. Ah, I'm getting sidetracked. What I'm trying to say is that... These questions I never thought of before, these experiences I could only dream of before, these memories that are my greatest treasure now… I owe them to you and for that, I wish to say: “Thank you.”

#dee. º ( saber. )#drabble. ° ( my equal. )#/ words don't come easily to dee so she had to write it down. spent many hours and did many drafts till she was satisfied with the result #/ the apple crumble was more of a last-minute decision after she saw everyone making chocolate ljhgfghjk

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freyjawriter24 · 4 years

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Advent Omens: Snow

Here’s my response to yesterday’s Ineffable Advent Calendar prompt from @drawlight. Enjoy!

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It was a cold a frosty December that year in Tadfield. It was the first time in eleven years that it hadn’t snowed heavily in and around the village in time for Christmas day, but it was still beautifully picturesque, and hardly any of the residents seemed to mind (or even notice).

Pepper noticed though. And Brian. And Wensleydale. And Anathema, who had decided to make her residence in Jasmine Cottage a little more permanent and who had heard the local children’s stories about the amazing things they got up to at Christmastime.

Adam didn’t so much notice as consciously decide that’s how it was going to be. It was a decision made a few months earlier, around the time of a certain altercation at an airfield. And now it was coming to life – winter in Oxfordshire, minus any antichrist influence. Cold, damp, pretty, frosty, and decidedly un-snowy. Just as it was meant to be.

Aziraphale and Crowley had decided that Christmas Day itself was probably more of a time for families to be together without outside interference – particularly interference of a celestial nature – but they’d accepted Adam’s invitation to a Christmas Eve lunch. The other kids were there too, and somehow Anathema and Newt had also blagged places at the table, which made for a very crowded dining room.

“Now, obviously we’ll all be having a big roast tomorrow, and lots of leftovers for the next few weeks, so I thought we’d have something a little different today,” Deidre was saying.

“I did the holly leaves”, Mr Young said proudly.

“Yes, dear,” his wife continued. “And I did all the rest of it. If you want a medal, I’m getting myself a trophy.”

Adam’s dad smiled in a way that suggested that this was an old joke. “Seems fair to me.”

He cut into the vegetable pie with its vaguely holly-shaped crust decoration and served everyone a slice as the children started dishing out chips and passing the ketchup back and forth. The food was good, Aziraphale thought – not his usual fare, considering where he usually dined – but he hadn’t eaten anything homemade in a while, and the healthy dose of love contained within it always made for a pleasurable dining experience. Crowley picked at a few chips and pried the pastry holly leaves off the top of his slice of pie to make them swim in ketchup, before swapping his plate for Aziraphale’s empty one while the humans weren’t looking.

“What’s for pudding?” Adam asked as soon as he’d finished eating.

“Come on, we’ve got to let our stomachs settle for a bit first, son.”

“Yes, no pudding for at least half an hour,” Mrs Young said, standing to clear the plates and motioning for her son to help her. “But it’s apple crumble.”

The kids all grinned and jumped up to help empty the table, leaving Anathema, Newt, the two celestial beings, and Mr Young there together. The latter was loosening his tie slightly when a frown came over his face.

“How did you two say you know us?”

If this question had been directed at Newt and Anathema, it would have been easier to deal with. It wouldn’t even need to be asked, really. Tadfield was a small place, and the mere fact that Anathema might be alone at Christmas would have warranted her being invited over to someone’s house, and why not theirs? And Newt would of course be invited too – he needed feeding up before driving them both all the way back to his mum’s house, after all.

It was, however, directed at Aziraphale and Crowley. Two people who did not live in Oxfordshire, did not have any sensible link to the family, and did not really have a proper reason for being there, other than having sort of helped save the world with Adam a few months ago.

But they’d rehearsed for this. Pepper had come up with the idea – her mum was known as the local, er, ‘interesting’ person, and so the adults were more likely to go along with it.

“We’re Pepper’s godfathers,” Aziraphale said, trying to keep his voice even.

“Her mum wanted us out of the house so she could get some last-minute things ready for tomorrow,” Crowley lied easily. “Deidre said she’d be happy to host us since Pepper was coming here too.”

“Yes, and thank you for the hospitality,” the angel added quickly.

The man’s frown lingered for a moment, then cleared as he accepted the explanation offered. “No, not at all. Always nice to have a full house around Christmas. Makes it seem extra festive.”

The children were chattering excitedly in the kitchen, and the next moment they came running over, Brian cheerfully crowing something about ‘making snowflakes’.

“We’ve got some paper over here,” Adam said, and the boys dived on the stack under an ancient printer that was sat in the corner while Pepper ran to get some scissors from Mrs Young.

A few minutes later, the entire sitting room was filled with paper shards as the children folded and cut and unfolded large almost-uniform snowflakes to decorate the windows with. Aziraphale and Crowley were for some reason put in charge of the four of them while the other adults hid in the kitchen, attempting to find some common ground to talk about.

“I’m going to go over to see Warlock on Boxing Day,” Crowley said quietly, while the others were preoccupied by seeing how much paper they could find already buried in Brian’s hair. “Might see if I can get him away from that family for a bit.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” Aziraphale asked immediately.

“Only if you want to, angel. I know you think he’s better off not having –”

“I want to.”

The words were said gently but earnestly. Crowley looked up at him, and saw the fierceness in those soft blue eyes.

“You’re right,” Aziraphale continued. “I said we shouldn’t interfere too much, now that we know the truth. But he’s already not had a normal childhood and he looked so... unhappy in the park, and I think...” He took a deep breath. “I think it would be nice if we see him regularly, at least. Maybe give him the choice to come and visit us now and again.”

The demon looked back down at the snowflake he was cutting out, checking his sunglasses were on firmly as he did so. “Thank you, angel.”

“Not at all, my dear.”

The children had now gotten distracted by Dog, who was trying to steal the finished snowflakes and shake them apart in his mouth. Mr Young called out that they should take him outside if he was going to be a bother, and so suddenly it was just the two of them alone in the sitting room, surrounded by shards of paper, cutting out snowflakes together.

“Are you going to go as Nanny?”

Crowley made a pained, garbled noise. “I... haven’t decided. I kind of want to tell him the truth. Do you... do you think he’d understand?”

Aziraphale pressed his lips together in thought. “Perhaps. It might take him a while, but I think he’d get there. Humans are resilient, children especially.”

“I just... don’t want it to go wrong.”

His voice was so small and scared that Aziraphale couldn’t help himself. He put down the paper and scissors in his own hands, gently took Crowley’s off him too, then folded the demon carefully into his arms.

“It’ll be ok, my dear. I know it will.”

They stayed that way until the call for dessert came through, and then Aziraphale ate one-handed, his other one squeezing Crowley’s under the table.

-----

It didn’t go wrong. It went unexpectedly smoothly. Mr and Mrs Dowling were surprisingly receptive to the idea of their son’s old nanny taking him away for short holidays now and again, and Warlock was impressively accepting of the fact that Nanny Ashtoreth was actually a six-thousand-year-old demon called Crowley.

“Can I still call you Nanny, though?”

“Of course you can, my darling,” Crowley said, affecting Nanny’s accent for the last two words. Warlock grinned, and hugged her.

“I’d prefer you call me Aziraphale, though,” the angel said.

“That’s fine,” the boy said. “You look nicer as yourself than as Brother Francis, by the way. I understand why Nanny liked you so much now.”

Both the celestial beings went slightly pink at that, but Warlock either didn’t notice or ignored them both. “So, can I get some chocolate log now?”

-----

When the snow actually finally fell in March the following year, Crowley went and picked up Warlock from his parents (well, parent singular – Thaddeus was in America again for work) and drove the three of them up to Oxfordshire to play with the Them.

The Tadfield kids were impressive with their snowman-making skills, having had years of perfect snow to practice with, but it was Warlock who had figured out how best to make a snow demon rather than a snow angel, and he made sure Crowley and Aziraphale had a go at making both.

As Adam and Warlock discussed their various experiences growing up as the antichrist and the rest of the Them threw snowballs for Dog to chase after, Aziraphale moved close to Crowley’s side and slid their gloved hands together.

“I think that all went rather well, in the end.”

Crowley snuck a finger up under his sunglasses to wipe away a small tear.

“Yeah, angel. It did, didn’t it?”

#advent omens #31 days of ineffables #snow #good omens #My writing #Aziraphale #crowley #christmas #drawlight #adam young #the them #anathema device #newton pulsifer #warlock dowling #sorry I'm a day late again #i might try and do two today to catch up #loving this so far

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