Author's Note: So, I love Angelina/Grell, and there's not enough of it. Also the author says that Grell is transgender, and I was surprised that no one writes this as a yuri pairing, after all if Grell is trans she's a woman
'When a woman who doesn't have a womb makes love to a woman who doesn't have a womb, no one is supposed to get pregnant,' thought Grell to herself, and yet, here she was with the little thing that she had put in her sweet Ann, her sweet Madam Red. Of course, when one of the women is a shinigami, and just so happens to have parts typically associated with men... sometimes someone gets pregnant. Angelina had not known, and Grell had not known. It was only in the moments after she'd killed her that she'd felt the pulse of life within the dying woman. She'd taken it away, secreted the new life in the folds of her dead lover's coat.
The shinigami was unsure of what to do. She longed to harbor the new life herself, within her own body, a memory of her one true love. She might have dalliances with others, men, women or otherwise, but no one could ever compare to her sweet Angelina. She had been in love, the kind of love that one never loses, never forgets. If only she'd not hesitated to kill that night, if only and then that life would be safe in the confines of her second womb, the one that had grown from Grell's seed in her, instead of curled in Grell's hands. She needed another woman, a woman who unlike Grell had a natural womb, who was cloven rather than crested at the apex of her thighs. It made Grell ache with regret to know that her child, the one that she had helped create, had been essential to the creation of could not grow in her. Regardless of her flat chest and not unimpressive cock, Grell regarded her body as a woman's body, and felt at home with it. She was a woman, a woman with a penis, but no less a woman for that supposedly manly appendage. The only time the shape of her body had hurt her was now, now being reminded that she would never bear children. Of course it was thanks to her body that she had this little life, tucked into the folds of that glorious red coat.
She would find a woman, a some human girl to bless with a virgin birth. She'd take the child of course, but the family would undoubtedly marvel at her pregnant body and intact hymen.
When Grell came claiming to be an angel to take her red child away it would be easy enough. She would claim her daughter, and she knew it would be a daughter in the depths of her soul, a daughter who would carry the legacy of her mothers' beauty, their wit, all that made them bright red flowers, and Grell would treasure that child, secret her away from all the danger and turmoil the world was soon to face. She would neither know demons, nor angels. She would be Grell's little ruby, her precious rose.
But for now he would hold her little ruby in her hands, treasure clutching it close for the last time till the surrogate gave birth, enjoy the preciousness of a new life, a life she would not snuff out.