Crowley Is Protective - Blog Posts

There's yet another note from Muriel under my wipers. I was going to burn this one as well, but there was a CD with it. And while you can burn CDs as well, they actually smell. Smell bad.

So no burning today.

I can't however keep the CD. I don't have a flat anymore where I could keep it. And if it's inside the Bentley for too long it will just turn into another Queen album. That would - kind of - be the same as burning it, just without the smell.

However, I can't decide whether this song makes things better or worse.

Probably both.

I think, today is one of those driving around days.

I will drop the CD into the letter box at the bookstore tonight. The polite thing to do would be to leave a note with it. Something like: 'Thanks for lending this to me.'

The only problem is, I don't know how closely Heaven observes the bookshop. If they find notes from a demon in there, Muriel could get into big trouble. Can't have that. I'm somewhat relieved they didn't get into trouble for helping me uncover the truth about Gabriel.

Without a note, the CD will just be a CD. Nothing to get into trouble for.

Muriel will probably think me rude, but that's okay. Demons are supposed to be rude. I'd rather the little bee thinks me the rudest person on Earth, but doesn't get punished by Heaven for "fraternizing with the enemy" as angels call it.

@muriel-not-the-dim-one

Mr. Crowley 💔✨🪽

~Muriel looks outside the bookshop window, the Bentley parked in front of Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death. They didn’t think it was going to be this easy to give something to Mr. Crowley.~

The sun not yet coming up over Soho. The moonlight and fog causing the evening dew to glitter like diamonds on the Bentley in the soft street lamp glow.

They had found this a few days ago, only it was an LP, as Mr. Fell and Maggie called them. They were glad they hadn’t traded, but managed to order a CD from Maggie.

Wrapping it tightly in their meticulously handwritten note, they bravely walked out the front door, headed towards the Bentley.

The sunshine just cresting above the rooftops, cast thin rays of sunshine that colliding with the window of the car, caught the scarlet, carmine, and vermillion hues of Crowley’s hair as he slept. How could anything so beautiful ever be considered evil?

Quietly Muriel slipped the cd and note under the wiper of the Bentley, turned and hurried back into the bookshop.

A soft smile on their face, content they had done the right thing.

**Goodnight my angel, time to close your eyes

And save these questions for another day

I think I know what you've been asking me

I think you know what I've been trying to say

I promised I would never leave you

Then you should always know

Wherever you may go, no matter where you are

I never will be far away

Goodnight my angel, now it's time to sleep

And still so many things I want to say

Remember all the songs you sang for me

When we went sailing on an emerald bay

And like a boat out on the ocean

I'm rocking you to sleep

The water's dark and deep, inside this ancient heart

You'll always be a part of me

Goodnight my angel, now it's time to dream

And dream how wonderful your life will be

Someday your child may cry, and if you sing this lullaby

Then in your heart there will always be a part of me

Someday we'll all be gone

But lullabies go on and on

They never die

That's how you and I will be**

**Transcribed by Muriel, 37th Scrivener**

Mr. Crowley, I found these wrapped within Mr. Fells journals. I thought you should have them. ✨🤍

Faithfully Yours,

AJC

@secretdiaryofcrowley

@aziraphalesdiaries