Could you imagine just like... One day god George and demon (most likely fucking Satan) Thomas are meeting up bc there's this spirit girl who isn't good enough or bad enough to stay in either realm constantly and isn't content towards purgatory (which neither would send her to) and it's just like "well I want her" and the biggest FUCKING ARGUMENT
Okay, I’m weak:
(Just a reminder: requests are closed, this is from my inbox when it was open)
“She’s not pure enough to be in heaven,” Thomas’ dark eyes gleamed, hoping to win the debate.
George shook his head with a chuckle, intertwining his fingers, “but do you really think she’s sinful enough to be dammed?”
Pursing his lips and sitting back in his chair, Thomas nodded as if thinking to himself, “perhaps.”
Scoffing at the ridiculous notion, George sat back, staring down a devil. Running his index finger across his top lip, George couldn’t get a grasp on why Thomas wanted you in hell so bad. Simultaneously, Thomas was curious at George’s inclination to wanting you in heaven so strongly. Both forces wanted you, but only one could last for eternity. It was a battle of Alphas, who could prove more protective, caring and overall better for you.
“Just because she has horns doesn’t make her a demon, Thomas,” George tried to say, thinking he had beat his opponent.
“Just because she has wings doesn’t make her an angel, George,” Thomas wittingly retaliated with a smirk of cockiness strewn across his face.
Silence surrounded them both. You were a heated debate among the realms, you could simply hop between them both along with Earth as you were a breed all your own. Your mother was half-angel, your father was half-demon, making you demon, angel and human all in one being. Your wings were beautiful, but different. Your horns were twisted, but different. You looked gorgeous, but different. Most people didn’t accept you. George had kept you away from Earth in fear that they would try to rally you into a freak show. Thomas kept you away from Earth in fear they’d revere you as a higher being, giving you fame.
“She doesn’t belong-”
“Where? Heaven? Hell? Earth?” Thomas quickly interrupted, nails digging into the arm of his chair.
“She belongs somewhere safe,” George said calmly, trying to keep the conversation civilly collected, “and that’s what she can be here, safe.”
“Perhaps you underestimate Hell,” Thomas sneered, “are you just too scared to lose her? Afraid she’s one thing you can’t save?”
“Perhaps you forget my power,” George threatened.