Flawsinthisworld has requested a UKUS with Devil!AmericaxAngelEngland. Here we go.
Rated M.
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Fredonia.
His greatest failing.
He didn't know when it began, sometime around her fall no doubt. Before that she'd been the sweetest little angel. His wonderful little protégée and she was definitely suited to being a guardian angel. Britannia himself was higher in the hierarchy than she had been. He had only been gone for a short task.
He was not the good Lord and could not keep track of everything all at once.
However, somewhere along the way, she'd been tempted and fallen. When he returned she was amongst the dammed.
It had been a lamentable occurrence and he prayed to God for his righteous judgment as well as divine grace.
She had been an angel of extreme compassion and kindness. Almost to a fault. Her blue eyes had been inquisitive and she had the mind of a child. With bright golden hair, and a small lock that stood straight up, as if it were constantly point to heaven and God's glory.
Britannia had adored her from the first moment she'd been assigned to him. He had taken her under his wing and made it a point to show her what was expected of her rank, as well as where to avoid.
Mainly, the void. It was the defined border between Heaven and hell. She was never to go there alone.
However, she must have disobeyed him, for after his mission -which had been successful due to God's grace-, she'd been absent.
He had searched for her, fearing the worst. His suspicions had been confirmed.
Her halo was gone, her white garb a dreadful black. Inky and sinister as her red eyes watched him intently. Her innocent face was lit up in carnal delight. Nearly every inch of her skin was visible to his widened eyes.
Her pristine, nearly bird-like wings, had become a twisted black leather and reptilian like deformities on her back. She sat with a wicked leer on her face, caressing her new horns. He noticed the male standing behind her. Wings larger and horns more pointed.
Likely the same rank for the enemy army as he was for God's. Fredonia gasped in pleasure and evil delight as the dark haired male with an sneer lapped at her neck. His wings enfolded around her, and he yanked her head back, making her howl with pleasure.
She smiled at him then, her red eyes burning into his.
Later, he would learn of her fate. That she had been tempted by something Noricum had told her.
Noricum, a demon of the most diabolical sort, often had Fredonia wrapped around him. Literally and figuratively.
Britannia allowed only pious and holy thoughts to filter through him even when Fredonia was copulating with Noricum in the open at the edge of the void. Her now ruby-red eyes watched him intently. The sickening indications of lust on her face for him. He said nothing.
She would crook her finger at him, an unholy smile on her lips as she thrust her breasts out on proud display.
She would get no reaction out of him. Only his contempt for the wicked. He would not respond.
Not even when her partners changed, and Noricum presumably grew bored of her. Or perhaps, in her wicked lust he became not enough. Still, she lingered on the edge of the void, cooing and calling to the angels that passed.
Mostly, though, she beckoned to him.
He would not be swayed. He knelt to pray to God for his forgiveness and never ending mercy. Upon all life, including the humans. He prayed that they would not fall to temptation as even some angels had. She always seemed to appear whenever he passed the veil between the human world, on his way to the heavens.
Britannia believed that she would tire of trying to taint him.
He did not realize that Fredonia would not be easily swayed away from him.
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"I can show you pleasures not found in that lonely bed of yours," she whispered when he passed. Her tail would snake out, and touch his wings briefly. It caused them both to shiver. He snapped his wings, refusing her touch. His green eyes burned brightly with fury that she dared to try and defile him.
She winked, and placed a finger in her mouth, her tongue licked the digit until it was slick.
Her half-hooded eyes stared at the area between his legs.
Britannia huffed, and continued on his way. His green eyes narrowed on her.
"I will get you eventually," she promised lazily.
He felt a few feathers drop in irritation.
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He was praying for the poor unfortunate souls that lacked the Lord's wisdom. The ones that had been blinded by greed or hatred. He was praying for their immortal souls and God's forgiveness for their sins.
The radiating warmth of the Lord filled him. The sounds of the songs of his fellow angels filled his ears. It was a moment of quiet reverence.
Until he felt something brush against his hands. Britannia startled, green eyes looking up.
To the red ones leering down at him. He trailed his gaze toward his hands, which had been clasped in prayer. As Fredonia rubbed her thigh against his hands, bringing them dangerously close to her...
"Have you no shame!? Foul beast," Britannia screamed, backing away quickly. His white wings unblemished by her sinful intentions. He inspected the snow feathers as he flew backward. His halo glowed brightly against the lingering gray of the void. The only area where he could plead on behalf of those that repented.
She stalked toward him, her figure scantily clad and she showed off her long legs with black leather. A whip rested on her side, as she looked at him in mock innocence.
"I have no idea what you mean," she replied salaciously, a clawed finger tapping at her chin. "You were the one trying to do unspeakable acts to me."
She waggled a finger as she winked at him. Her one black lock of hair still pointed straight up, and Britannia longed for the days when it was heaven she served.
"Naughty, naughty," she cooed. "Little Angel."
Her body moved with a fluidity that would have given a lesser creature an urge toward sinful acts. Britannia glared at her.
"Begone!" He commanded.
"Oh," she simpered with face concern. "But I don't want to leave just yet."
He watched her horns gleam in the reflective light of holiness his halo cast. She batted her eyes at him flirtatious.
"Why don't you come down here, and we can get to know each other better?" She purred seductively.
Britannia recited a Psalm and sent a prayer to God to keep him on the correct path.
He missed the way her red eyes watched him as he flew away.
Pondering.
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The next time he encountered her, she had snuck up behind him and draped herself over him. She caressed his wings as he struggled to loosen himself from her grip. Her tail wrapped around his waist tightly.
"You're so handsome when you struggle," she whispered in his ear and Britannia valiantly repressed the shiver. He could nearly feel her corrupting him.
"Remove yourself from me at once!" He demanded with righteous anger.
"I'll remove something from you," she replied with a laugh, plucking at his Angel garb.
His wings snapped in her face, momentarily distracting Fredonia as he fled. He requested a more covering set of robes as he prayed for protection.
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Britannia froze. His wings fell limply to rest behind him. He could only stare in horror as Fredonia tempted a moral man to lie with her, just outside the void. Her black hair and red eyes did nothing to detracted from the other worldly beauty she showed this man.
He has watched her lure countless good men at the last moment. Britannia is forbidden to interfere. Free will is still paramount. However, he is terrified by the anger he feels at the sight of the man indulging himself in Fredonia.
Because he is furious the man is touching her.
But not because his immortal soul is at stake.
The angel could not tear his gaze away when she began to call his name out in a wanton fashion. Her eyes locked on him with a smile on her face.
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"It was you," she purred at him one day, with her tail twitching behind her. It lashed back and forth like a serpent.
Britannia stood before her unafraid of her wickedness. His holy green eyes warred with her devil red ones.
He refused to dignify her with a response. His speech was reserved for God, and the humans he was meant to protect. He still had other angels to train.
"That's how I fell," she said with a bitter laugh.
He paused, his wings snapped open, a threatening display and reminder of who he was.
"Silence Demon. I did nothing to cause you to fall." He said, secretly concerned that he had actually failed her in some way.
Her red lips twisted upward in a sensual smile.
"Hm... yes," she said tilting her head, exposing more of her bare neck as she licked her lips. "and no. I suppose."
Her finger traced a path up her arm and she watched him intently.
"He tempted me with you." She told him, and Britannia felt himself grow hot. His cheeks flushed. "And you are so very tempting angel." She whispered as she drew closer.
"S-stop this." Britannia stuttered indignantly. "This is madness!"
Her red eyes dimmed sadly for a moment.
"Madness?" She questioned softly. "That's all I have left."
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"Please," she whispers against his ear. Her tone a touch desperate but the sincerity is what undoes him.
Fredonia.
Her face was earnest, or at least, she gave a very good impression of it. Her hand is on his chest. Her actions were chaste at the same time they were alluring.
She's wearing far more clothes than he's ever seen her in since her fall.
A soft blush is on her cheeks, and for a moment her horns don't seem so wicked for a single moment.
"Please," she repeats, her expression nearly sweet.
"I cannot." He denies with his heart hammering, but it takes him longer to pull away.
Understanding passes between both of them. Her red eyes light up in satisfaction.
He is weakening.
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She watches him after that, but does not approach. She keeps her other lovers away. Or, at least, Britannia does not see them at all. It makes the temptation to be near her, even greater.
Her red eyes lock with his green and he turns away heading back toward where he rightfully belongs. Another angel accompanies him now, and Fredonia only watches them.
The angel at his side, a brother in arms, shakes his head, cautioning him not to stop and fall into what was likely a trap.
Britannia knows better. However, she beckons him now in a way she hadn't for so long.
He leaves her near the void, as she smiles grimly.
Fredonia knows he'll come to her.
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His lips capture hers, and she yields. He never expected that she would. Or that he would be the one to fall. However Fredonia curls her wings around him and holds him tightly. There is no mocking, nor boasting. She does not whisper lies in his ears as he imagined she would.
Fredonia only clings to him as he plunders her.
Britannia knows what it will cost him, but he cannot deny her any longer.
He shudders under her touch, as she calls him by name.
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Gently, she picked him up, waiting for his wings to disappear as hers had done. Her red eyes watched him, waiting for what she had missed when she too had been in this state.
Her black hair fell in front of her eyes, and her wings twitched in agitation.
It was done. She had finally defiled the pristine angel she had wanted for so long.
Decades.
Centuries.
Perhaps, even eons.
Time had no meaning here.
She'd finally done it.
So why... did she feel so empty still?
She clutched Britannia closer, the dark tendrils of hell began to emerge from the well defined border. Icy fear coursed through her veins. The satisfaction she felt just moments before was dashed away. She does not glorify in this.
Hell is seeking her angel. He has been corrupted by her darkness. She freezes in place, waffling in terror.
By rights, she should allow him to fall as she had fallen. They could be together forever then. Couldn't they?
She loves Britannia. She wants him to stay with her.
But the knowledge of how he will react, and how much he will hate her makes her darker nature recoil to the last lingering vestiges of the creature she used to be.
The one that truly loved Britannia in a way that was not twisted and corrupted in darkness. The creature that had loved him unselfishly.
When she was...
Fredonia.
The real Fredonia. The one that had stood in God's presence. The one that had heard his voice. The voice of the great creator.
She hisses in pain, claws clenching momentarily as she remembers things that were forbidden to speak of. Things Britannia reminds her of.
Fuck.
To do it will come with steep ramifications. Yet, the tendrils of darkness so great it has no true description crept closer, and she closes her red eyes as the decision is made.
There was a moment of stillness, as the lingering effects of his purifying touch cause her to remember what he once told her when she first came into existence.
His green eyes looked at her with such quiet dignity as they stood above the world. The very first humans sought to make a life out in the wilderness, which had once been a lush garden.
She did not understand why the humans were given the chance at redemption. England told her it was love.
She only gazed at him attentively. He noticed her blank stare. His smile was like the morning sun itself.
"Fredonia, what is love?" He asked her gently.
"Love?"
"Yes, what is love?"
"What HE feels for us," she responded promptly."In all his glory and wisdom."
Britannia nodded. Gesturing toward the humans.
"It is more than that," he informed her fondly, " Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres."
That had been so long ago. Now she stood at the entrance of hell with an enchanted Britannia in her arms.
Love always protects. Always trusts. Always hopes.
She swallowed the acidic bile that swelled in her throat.
Always... perseveres.
She bowed her head, allowing the old feelings to well within her.
"Our Father," she whispers softly trying to bite back the hiss of pain. "Who art in Heaven," her eyes prickle with tears of blood. The pain is so horrible that even the worst pits of hell do not compare.
The tendrils retreat as if they have been scalded by her very words. She suffers unimaginably for what she has uttered.
Yet, she is undeterred.
"Hallowed be thy name." She coughs, spitting up blackness and filth. Her wings begin to burn. "Thy Kingdom come, they will be done."
Wounds open up on her thighs as they weep black and red blood. The agony is nearly unbearable as she begins to scream the rest of the prayer. She holds Britannia close, refusing to release him to the darkness of hell.
She refuses.
"On Earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day, our daily bread." The word tapers off into a screech of unadulterated despair. However, she must continue. She cannot afford to stop. Britannia cannot afford for her to stop.
Her fingers turn ashen, slowly breaking away.
"And forgive us our trespasses," she screams through clenched teeth as more caustic and thick blood pools in her mouth.
"As we forgive those who trespass against us," Her wings are singed to ashes, and her skin is peeling back all over her body. Her throat burns fiercely.
"And lead us not into temptation," she sobs as her body continues to deteriorate. "But delivers us from evil."
The shining light hurts her eyes, so fiercely that she is blinded by the holiness of it. She was only able to catch a glimpse of him. His white hair and glowing eyes were radiating with God's glory and might. An angel far higher than Britannia has heard her prayer.
The angel looks at her, and she can feel that it knows her lengthy list of sins. It can tell in an instant that she has been cast from God's light and may never return.
She knows that.
"Why do you speak HIS name, foul creature?" The light demands with booming words that cause her to flinch away in fear. "You have been cast into the pit of Hell for falling to temptation."
She cannot see him, but feels the divine presence in him. She cowers over Britannia, seeking to protect him.
"You have led another down the tainted path of lust and depravity." The voice says without malice, as if all were fact and known.
"Not for me," she whispers with blood and spittle spraying the floor. "I do not call upon He who is called I AM, for me." Her hands shake and she knows that she is damaged beyond repair. Hell will not heal her now. She will be rejected outright.
The presence pauses, as if confused and surprised by her words. She grabs a hold of the silence for all she is worth.
"I call for Britannia." She says in a broken tone. "I pray," and even speaking the word causes her to cough in a fit of pain. "I pray for Britannia."
"Your words fall on deaf ears," the angel informs her harshly, "unclean one."
It cannot be true, she knows God is merciful. She knew him once, and even though she has fallen from grace she misses him. The light he brought burns her now, but it was not always so. He loved her once. She forsook that. She alone made that choice and should rightly suffer for it.
But Britannia had not.
Slowly, she sinks to her knees, and flounders nearly dropping her precious burden. To seek God again will surely kill her. She knows it.
"I love you Britannia," she whispers as blood tears cascade from her blinded eyes.
The presence moves before her, ready to leave. Likely to report back to God what he has witnessed here.
The end of all has come for her now.
She bows her head, and recites the Psalm she favored when she still dwelt in heaven with Britannia and the Lord.
"Be merciful to me, O God, because of your constant love. Because of your great mercy wipe away my sins! Wash away all my evil and make me clean from my sin!" She chokes on the words, but the whisper of them still is heard.
The Presence burns brightly, and even in her blindness, she sees traces of the light.
She gently lays Britannia down, because her arms are burning from the inside out. She cannot speak without being cleansed. She has asked for non-existence if it saves him.
"I recognize my faults; I am always conscious of my sins." And she was. She had always known the list of her transgressions, but had not sought to repent as she did now.
"You will vanish into nothingness," the Presence warned her grimly.
Still, she did not falter. Even as her screams grew more and more tortured.
"I have sinned against you—only against you— and done what you consider evil. So you are right in judging me; you are justified in condemning me. I have been evil from the day I sinned; from the time I was tainted, I have been sinful." She wailed in agony and her legs were disappearing out from under her. Breaking away like brittle glass and ash.
She fell to her belly, but did not stop.
" Sincerity and truth are what you require; fill my mind with your wisdom. Remove my sin, and I will be clean; wash me, and I will be whiter than snow. Let me hear the sounds of joy and gladness; and though you have crushed me and broken me, I will be happy once again. Close your eyes to my sins and wipe out all my evil."
There was only enough strength left in her to finish. So beg and grovel like a serpent upon the ground. She did so gladly, for Britannia's sake.
"Create a pure heart in me, O God, and put a new and loyal spirit in me. Do not banish me from your presence; do not take your holy spirit away from me. Give me again the joy that comes from your salvation, and make me willing to obey you. Then I will teach sinners your commands, and they will turn back to you."
A rasping wheeze, and a sense of finality settle over her.
"Spare the life of Britannia, O God, and save him, and I will gladly proclaim your righteousness. Help me to speak, Lord, and I will praise you." Her words grow quieter, and she can sense the presence strains to hear them.
It does not matter. God can hear her. She has to believe it. She knows he hears her.
" You do not want sacrifices, or I would offer them; you are not pleased with burnt offerings.
My sacrifice is this humble spirit, O God; you will not reject a humble and repentant heart." She sobs, nearly driven mad by pain and sorrow.
For Britannia, for her love.
Please, Lord, hear the words and forgive.
Forgive! Her body wilts, most of her gone. Bloody tears fall on Britannia, staining his clothing, but she cannot see it. To her he is still pristine and white.
Worthy of forgiveness.
"O God, be kind to Zion and help her; rebuild the walls of Jerusalem. Then you will be pleased with proper sacrifices and with our burnt offerings; and bulls will be sacrificed on your altar."
The last words she will ever utter seemed swallowed up by the silence of hell. She fades into nothingness, leaving only bloody tears on the garb of an Angel.
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God was merciful. God was gracious. God was forgiving.
England knew all these facts very well as he stared across the meeting at an exuberant America.
America...
He remembers, even if she does not what happened one fateful day in Hell. When he had been tempted and nearly fallen from grace. He should have, by rights, been cast aside for eternity. However, he had not counted on the love America truly had for him.
She had not been destroyed, but allowed to roam the Earth. However, not as a human. Her punishment was to be a nearly immortal being. However, God always tested his faithful ones with steep challenges that had even greater rewards.
Hence the reason England was here. He too had been sent to Earth, in the same capacity as America.
God had forgiven him, and in doing so had allowed America the chance at redemption. Her love, and her willingness to give up everything for him had swayed God to mercy. A true and meaningful sacrifice had been made, even if it was not required.
And, because she had spent her last breath praising God, instead of cursing his name, America would be given the opportunity so rare, that it had never before been heard of.
England, were he faithful, would be allowed to return to heaven with America. Provided she too remained faithful. Having already fallen once to temptation, her memory of their time in Heaven as well as her time in hell was stripped from her. She would have to remain faithful to God, through faith alone.
He, however, was permitted to keep his angelic side as a constant reminder of his end goal.
England had nearly lost America in the revolution because he grew too prideful. It was God's subtle reminder that should he fail, America would be lost as well, but the war would have far more permanent reaching consequences than a skirmish on Earth.
The war between heaven and hell was still poised to happen, and England only had one chance to make sure she was by his side once more.
"Hey dude!" America said loudly, suddenly right in front of him. "You're staring off into space again," she chuckled with a smile.
England blinked at her, and sat straighter.
"Was I?"
"Yeah dude," she replied clapping a hand on his shoulder. "Come on, it's time to go."
Warmth and kindness radiated in her blue eyes and he was so grateful to God every day.
Because at least, during their time on Earth, he could love her the way he wanted. He pulled her close, and kissed her. It was slightly awkward with her having to bend over.
America gave a slight squeak of surprise, before she settled against him. When she was seated in his lap, she pulled away shyly. Her face flushed.
"England?" She asked curiously,
His green eyes stared into hers deeply. "You know I love you, America." He said softly, kissing her again.
She smiled easily, and brushed her fingertips across his hair.
"I love you too," she replied sincerely.
"I would do anything for you," he promised intently.
Her pretty blue eyes looked at him with some confusion, but a pleased blush spread across her face.
"England," she murmured "I know. Just like you know I'd go to hell and back for you."
Her words caused him to still, and he buried his head in her shoulder to keep himself from tearing up.
Because America said things like that, not understanding she already had.
"One nation," he mumbled into her shoulder.
"Under God," she finished, and looked at what parts of him she could. "What is up with you today?" She asked curiously.
England just held her tighter.
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Fredonia was actually one of the first names used by "Americans" after the Revolutionary war. It was a proposed name for the United States of America.
Noricum was actually a province in 400 A.D. Its area corresponded to the greater part of modern Styria and Carinthia, Upper/Lower Austria west of Vienna, Salzburg, a part of Bavaria, and a part of Slovenia.
In case you are wondering, yes, America was "led astray" by Austria. Yes, I made Austria evil.
Yes, Prussia was an angel.