#and holy water hurts demons not angels

[queer-reader-07]

you know what i think is interesting? the way that some people have just flat out decided that aziraphale being in hell during the body swap wasn't even a little bit traumatic.

we obviously know it fucked with crowley (see: the telling jim to jump out a window scene)

but what about aziraphale? sure we have no concrete proof it messed with him, but we also don't have proof to the contrary

"oh but he was just laughing about asking for a rubber duck". when has aziraphale ever actually been upfront about his feelings? he consistently outwardly acts like things are fine even when they very much aren't. i don't know about you but me personally? i wouldn't put it past him to be jokey about it when really it messed him up inside.

sure the holy water isn't painful to HIM. but he's down there knowing full well that it was supposed to be crowley in that bath. it was supposed to be the love of his life melting and dying in that bath. and it was to be put on display for all of hell to watch. in the same way that crowley was up in heaven knowing that gabriel told aziraphale to shut his stupid mouth and die already. the same way crowley knew they were reveling in ending aziraphale's life.

like, idk. i just think that maybe aziraphale also has a lot of trauma to work through and him working through it and his shitty coping mechanisms is part of the growth he needs to undergo in season 3.

[gaystreetsmarts]

why did crowley's feet burn in the church but not in heaven?

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Hellbound Angel

Male Yandere Demon x Male Angel Reader (CW: Noncon, drugged reader, drugged sex, drug-like cum, drug-like saliva, big ol' horse cock, literally equine dick, belly bulge, armpit kink, scent kink, musk, underwear sniffing, kidnapping, general yandere behavior, temporarily mind-broken reader, religious themes, dehydration, forced feminization, reader has minor injuries not inflicted by yandere) Word Count: 2.2k

In the never-ending war against the legions of Hell, the middle ground where most of the fighting was done was on Earth. However, the heavenly forces sometimes deemed an incursion into Hell necessary.

You had been sent on a mission to scout ahead and take note of the coming forces.

Angels were stronger than most demons. Even so, almost your entire squad had been wiped out in a bloody ambush. The other survivors had used the one holy recall scroll to teleport themselves back to heaven.

Each squad sent into Hell is given one and only one. They probably thought you were dead already when they left still with demons in pursuit. They had to act quickly. You didn't blame them. Without it, you were trapped here. Unless you could find a demon's gate that could take you to Earth. That's how the demons made it out. But there would certainly be legions of the enemy at such places.

You had managed to escape the slaughter of your scouting party, but you were injured. Your wings had been hurt as had your leg. Relatively minor injuries, but in a hostile land, they certainly made things more difficult.

To be honest, you weren't exactly the strongest angel on a good day. This was not a good day.

You limped along the rocky landscape, using your holy staff as a walking stick. You stayed low to remain unseen by any wandering beasts or demons as you made your way out of the fiery wastelands and into the white sand desert. Hell wasn't all fire and brimstone. It was the most popular depiction of Hell's most dramatic landscape, but there were other biomes, too. Now you were getting into one of the many deserts Hell had to offer.

It was cooler than the burning wastes, but by no means was it comfortable. Water and food were scarce, the white sands were nearly blinding, and the swirling black sky was a constant ominous reminder that you were not safe.

You could go a long time without food and water. You wouldn't die without them, but after a while, you would wither up and be unable to move. You'd go into a kind of stasis. And then you'd be defenseless.

For days, you wandered. At least... you thought it was days. Despite the perpetually black sky the sun never set. Your lips were chapped, your wounds aching, hope dying in your heart. You had to find an oasis to rest at. Build up your strength. From the limited maps you had seen of this region of Hell there should be one at the heart of this desert, but with your wings and legs messed up it would still take many days still to reach it.

There were several more days of endless marching, hobbling on your injured leg that was getting harder and harder to walk on before you finally saw the oasis in the distance. You tried your best to approach stealthily, going behind dunes and sand drifts whenever possible, and wrapping your white wings around you to provide some measure of camouflage with the white sands. As you got near, it disappeared in a puff of smoke. And out of the smoke stood a demon. It was a trap.

Dark brownish red skin, sharp horns, a tail flicking back and forth, and he stood at least a foot taller than you. He was very muscular, his sweat coated abs glistened in the sunlight. He wore nothing. His long horse-like cock and big nuts swinging freely below a thick patch of black pubic hair.

You caught yourself accidentally staring and looked away quickly before readying your divine staff for a fight. Which was really hard, since you could barely stand without it.

The demon winked and chuckled.

"Do you like it~ There's no harm in just looking, you know?"

He closed the distance between the two of you in a flash and knocked the staff away in one fluid motion.

"As a matter of fact, you can do a lot more than look, little bird. My cum would make you feel so much better~ That oasis you're looking for is still miles away."

"Uh, thanks for the kind offer, but I think I will pass. I'll just be on my way and out of your hair."

You stepped back slowly, hoping to make it to your staff so you could maybe limp away and give him a good smack if he followed. But he wasn't giving you the chance.

"Oh, but you're dehydrated!"

He took a few steps forward until there were mere inches between you. He put a hand on your cheek and thumbed at your chapped lips gently.

"Your lips are all dry. Let me help~"

Before you could decline, he held your head in place and leaned down. He traced and prodded your sore lips with his long slick tongue.

You tried to push him away but couldn't do much in your current condition. And the saliva was having some kind of effect on you.

He slipped his tongue past your lips and kissed you greedily.

Your head grew fuzzy and your legs weak. His spit was some type of drug. It felt... nice...

You resisted it as long as you could, even resorting to biting his tongue, but he ignored it and continued. Moments later, you slumped against him, your head on his muscular chest. The only thought in your head as you passed out was how nice this man in front of you smelled.

He picked you up gently and carried you bridal style. It was fitting since you were certainly his little bride now, as far as he was concerned. He placed a chaste kiss on the top of your head and then started walking towards the underground dwelling he called home.

When you woke up, your wounds had been healed, and you felt a lot better. Though you were still dizzy. There was an intoxicating smell all around you and you didn't recognize your surroundings.

Your first instinct was to jump up and flee, but you were immediately pulled back down and placed in the lap of your demonic captor. His monstrous cock poking out between your thighs.

You looked down and realized you were naked, your soft cock and balls laying on his unnaturally warm prick.

"Let me go!" You elbowed him as hard as you could but he must have made sure you stayed drugged because you couldn't muster up any strength to put into your struggle.

"Let you go? After all the trouble I have gone through to romance you?"

"Romance!? You kidnapped me and I don't even know who the fuck you are, creep!!"

You struggled with renewed anger, smacking your head backwards, elbowing, kicking, and scratching. All amounting to you gasping for breath, tired, while he chuckled at the attempt.

"You're in Hell! I could have raped you and left you in the sand to be killed by any passing monster and that still would have been considered romance."

He placed his large hands on your legs with his thumbs drawing lazy circles on your thighs.

"I saved you from the desert, treated your wounds, let you rest for days, fed you, gave you water, and bathed you. That is damn romantic!"

He started assaulting your neck with little licks and kisses, enjoying how you squirmed in protest while sitting on his equine cock.

"As for the name that you'll be moaning when I bury myself in you, it's Tevrik."

"My friends will come back for me. You should save yourself the trouble and let me go now!"

This was a bluff, of course. They almost certainly thought you were dead. You didn't know if your deception would work, but you didn't expect him to respond with a cackle.

"No, they won't! Rathiel won't let em!"

A shudder went through you at the mention of your boss who had ordered the mission into Hell.

"He's one of Hell's best agents. Gives us lots of intel."

You were dumbfounded and fell silent a moment before regaining your composure and replying angrily.

"Lies from a worthless demon!"

"I'd never lie to you, sweetie~"

He trailed his hands up and down your thighs as he continued.

"How else did we set up that ambush? Rathiel sent you to us. We needed more angel blood. But not yours."

Your blood ran cold as he began grinding into you.

"I picked you out from a bunch of employee profiles just to be my little princess. I'm half angel myself and wanted an angel bride~ We'll rule this region of Hell together!"

He repositioned you on his lap to face towards him as his flared cock grew fully erect.

"You weren't supposed to be hurt in the battle. I'm so sorry about that. I killed the demons who did it."

You didn't even struggle when he positioned you above his dick, hot precum smearing your hole as his cock pressed against it. The betrayal drained the fight from you.

"After the battle, I just followed you for a bit, so you'd be tired. And now here you are. With me."

The precum and smell of his arousal were making you dizzier. The words he spoke brought tears from your eyes.

"Awe, don't cry. After we have some alone time to adjust, I'll take you to the palace~ You'll be royalty!"

You winced as his cock entered you, expecting pain. Surprisingly, there was none. Instead it was like every cell in your body was filled with pleasure.

This couldn't be right. You had to escape. Sex with a demon was a very taboo thing.

You started struggling but Tevrik held you still.

"Shhh, I know you're upset. But just let it happen, okay? I'll make you feel so good."

As his precum continued to dribble out of his dick and into you and as the betrayal by your trusted higher up sank in you once more lost the will to fight.

Why were you fighting anyway? This cock felt so nice. And he was so kind and romantic to go through all this trouble to get you away from your evil boss right?

You relaxed and lay against his chest as he pumped into you slowly. You looked up at him and realized he had your underwear in his hand and was holding it up to his nose sniffing the crotch.

"You smell so good, girly. So good. You feel good too."

"You smell nice too!" Then your brain caught up with the rest of what he had said.

"A-and I'm not a g-girl." Too focused on your pleasure to really care.

"Nah, you're too pretty to be a man. Too weak too. Plus you have this tight little cunt hugging my dick. You're definitely a girly~"

"O-okay."

You blushed because he called you pretty. You supposed he made a lot of sense. You were clearly a girl. You wondered why you didn't know that sooner. It felt right.

He chuckled warmly as you drooled on his chest and made cute little gasps and moans. He couldn't wait until you were moaning his name.

Tevrik didn't pound you, he didn't want to hurt his sweet baby bird. Instead he just rocked his hips into you and enjoyed the effect it had on you.

After you started making those delicious noises his demonic precum began to make you super cuddly. He continued to breed your tight hole while you started nuzzling him and leaving gentle kisses on his chest. He began grinding into you a bit faster and more forcefully, his cock clearly outlined through your belly as it nestled into you as deeply as he could get it.

"Fuck babe, I'm about to bust."

But you came before he did it. Your cock spilling silvery angelic seed on his belly as you called his name and clung to him tightly. The combined sight of you cumming while impaled by his dick while at the same time calling his name just like you promised he would sent Tevrik over the edge. His large balls filled your tummy with hot demon cum. It made you feel warm and fluttery and loved. Like you could feel his emotions through his seed.

You were so tired from all the emotion and sex that you passed out on top of him, nuzzling your nose into the comforting scent of his armpit as you clung to him.

Tevrik smiled. You were just so precious. Sadly, he knew you'd regress back into struggling against him. But that was okay. He would keep reminding you how the angels threw you away and keep breeding you full of his drug-like semen. Soon you'd crave it. He'd bed you constantly until you needed it. And then breed you as much as you wanted him to after that.

Yeah, it would take a while. But he had all the time in the universe.

Tevrik sighed with content and closed his eyes, taking your underwear and putting it back up to his nose while he relaxed with his cock still deep inside you.

You may have been in Hell, but Tevrik was in Heaven.

[combinationofstardust]

we are not talking about how date-like 1941 was. Before this night they've spent about 80 years not talking to each other because of the Holy Water Breakup, and we start the night with Crowley saving Aziraphale from discorporation, despite having to LITERALLY hurt himself by walking on consecrated ground. And then he saved Aziraphale's books!! Mr. Saving-Aziraphale-makes-me-so-happy saved Aziraphale's damsel-in-distress ass.

They drive through a burning, bombed city together and Aziraphale saves Crowley by agreeing to do a magic trick. They go back to Aziraphale's bookshop, arguably Crowley's favourite place ever, and roleplay-flirt as an American GI and a famous magician. And they go to a magic shop and flirt some more. Crowley helps pay for Aziraphale's magic trick because he supports his angel that much.

They proceed to head to the West End performing a magic trick that's just one big sex allegory, and Crowley's so worried he's going to shoot Aziraphale into discorporation his hands are SHAKING, and Aziraphale is putting SO MUCH trust into Crowley it hurts to watch.

The show ends. They flirt some more in the back room and this random demon walks in and tries to arrest them for their gay-ass relationship (sound familiar?). Crowley acts nonchalant but we know he's a nervous wreck (which we can analyze later) and Aziraphale says his own name in what is possibly the sexiest voice we've ever heard. He then saves Crowley by performing magic the human way, sleight-of-hand, making it the only time we EVER see it work.

Then they go home, drink Aziraphale's best wine over a candlelit dinner, successfully running away from their respective forces and their punishments, and exchange a romantic-ass conversation thst reinforces "our" side.

I am Not Well.

[trashogram]

He Chose You (Pt. 14)

Lucifer/Reader: Lucifer chooses you to be the mother of his child. Rated E for Explicit.

(A/N: I know Lute wields a sword. I changed it because.)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 13.5 | Part 14 | End

“Take your hands off of her!” Lucifer’s command was 7 layers of demonic, loud and deep enough to make the clouds quiver. 

Still, Adam held fast to you until you managed to free one arm and slam your elbow into his gut.

“Fuck! Bitch!” He dropped you to the ground, sneering down at you briefly. You bared your teeth, pushing yourself up to barrel into the odious First Man, only to stagger at the impact of someone’s boot colliding with your hip.

“No! ” Lucifer roared, metal scraping beneath his growing claws.  

You fell back to the floor with a cry, pain exploding across your left side. Lute bore a hole into you with her gaze, glowing gold as a jungle cat’s while she kept you pinned by the shoulder with her spear.

“Stay down.” She smirked as you struggled to face her from beneath her weight.

“Fuck you!” You spat. 

“Wa-hoh! Mouthy now aren’tcha?” Adam teased, his eyes still locked on Lucifer tearing at the gate. “This really is your bitch, huh? All bark, no respect.” 

Lucifer snarled, smoke trailing from behind his pointed teeth. “Let. Her. Go.” 

“Or what, little man? Look around. You’re in no position to be making threats.” Adam scoffed, drawing closer and closer to the King of Hell. “You think you can tear down this gate designed to keep you out.” 

As if on cue, the mutilated poles and slats of Heaven’s gate began to reform. They straightened like an unbothered water stream over jagged rocks, until they once again gleamed unbent and reinforced. 

Through the haze of pain and mist rolling from the ground, you could just make out the crowd of angels that had been your audience. There was shuffling, latent gasping, and you could see a rainbow of expressions taking in the scene you were a part of. Yet no one was coming to your aid. No one did so much as protest the sudden violence in their midst. 

You slid a hand out from where it’d been trapped beneath your stomach, reaching out to implore someone for help. No one rushed to your aid, though you had caught the express attention of a few. One in particular — an Angel with rotating rings embedded with eyes for a head — looked at you in what you guessed was shock. 

“Please,” You pleaded. “Don’t let them do this.” 

The angel stalled, frozen at being addressed. One of their blue hands rose halfway, as if to take your shaking hand, but the hesitation remained. Lute instantly drove the spear’s end deeper into your skin, making you yelp and startling the angel back several steps. 

Why was everyone in Heaven so useless???

Lucifer cast a fleeting glance at the sea of ethereal beings that he’d once called family. Their horror meant very little to him — but they were so afraid of him that they refused to help you as you were assaulted in the holy land. 

     The fact that Adam was right — that Lucifer would claw at the gate as much as he wanted but not break through — only added to his abject helplessness and despair.

     Lucifer squeezed his eyes shut, trying to think of a solution before your cry set every nerve in his body alight. Until he wrangled the bars of the once damaged gate again, fruitlessly. The blond swerved up, down and sideways to try and see you, his heart lodged in his throat as Adam’s hulking form blocked you from sight. 

“Please. Stop hurting her.” Lucifer begged in his panic. “Please! I just came up here to make sure she was safe!” 

“Well looks like you fucked that up royally.” Adam snarked. “That’s what you’re best at though, isn’t it?” 

He held Lucifer’s gaze, something like genuine hatred hidden behind that thin veneer of grandiose arrogance. 

    It brought back memories long buried beneath the millennia of Lucifer’s self-loathing. Back when the pain of a broken heart was still fresh and waking each day was akin to bleeding out until there was no feeling left in his limbs. 

Eve gave him a last, discerning look. She placed a hand on his cheek and gave him a half-smile, reminiscent of the ones he’d been graced with after his magic tricks. 

“I love you, Lucifer.” She , basking in his soft grin for just a  longer. 

“But…” A shadow passed over her face. “I can’t go with you.” 

“Eve?” Lucifer’s voice was small to his own ears. 

Her lilac eyes crumpled, smile thinning. She stroked her thumb over the red blush permanently painted on his face, forever signifying joyfulness. It contrasted terribly with the way his face fell as Eve moved away from him. 

“I’m so sorry.” She  with a shuddering breath.

Her hand disappeared from his face, leaving him cold and crestfallen. 

She turned her back on him to walk to the other man waiting at Eden’s entrance. 

     Adam smirked, pulling her with him with the gate swinging back. He looked back at Lucifer, smug save for the twinkle behind his eyes that would swell and grow with unbridled resentment. 

“She’s innocent.” Lucifer looked up at the first man, feeling numb. “Whatever you have against me has nothing to do with her.” 

Adam glowered. “Nobody that fucks with you is innocent.” 

—

Emily’s wings sliced through the air as rapidly as a hummingbird’s would. She’d never tasted anxiety like this before, and decided it was the worst flavor imaginable as she raced through the labyrinth of Heaven’s capitol. 

It was a wonder that Sera had not been the first on the scene when Lucifer himself appeared. Not for the first time, the smaller seraphim wished she had a better understanding of the inner workings of Heaven’s bureaucratic system, and if there was some line of work that could keep Sera in the dark about something so monumental happening just outside paradise. 

      She’d never say it out loud, but Emily was getting tired of being told that she’d learn everything in time. 

Bursting through the War Room for the second time in a day, Emily made quick work of scanning the surroundings. The strategy table was dim, unused. It made the seraphim bite her lip as her anxiety spiked. She had already checked the grand council auditorium, the library, the commencement hall — Sera was nowhere to be found. 

Emily wrung her hands together. 

Had she somehow missed the presence of her greatest friend and mentor in the disarray?!

            Please Guide Us With Your Wisdom

                         Answer My Call

                              Father 

                     Help Me Understand 

Emily froze, arily spellbound by the pull of ancient beyond ancient energy pulsing nearby. 

— 

You groaned. The pain in your back was now shooting up your spine, overtaking the sting of Lute’s spear digging into your side. It was starting to freak you out, as the dissonant feelings of true hurt and spine-tingling reacted together and kept you wriggling on the floor. 

     Lute refused to budge, snorting at your desperation. 

“You’re wasting your time.” She stated matter-of-factly. “Filthy sinners like you are the weakest of the weak. Trying to worm your way out of your own fate.”

The heel of her boot rose just to join the spear in crushing your body. Your moan turned into a whimper as she twisted her foot in your back, as if you were a cigarette butt to stomp out. 

“Or is squirming like a pathetic maggot under your betters what turns sluts like you on?” She was in your face, having bent over to taunt you 

The question was so absurd that it stopped you dead, pain taking a backseat to it. Your eyes bulged out as you regarded her in disbelief.

“No.” Your lips turned up in disgust. “But the fact that you brought that up as a possibility is making me wonder if you’re getting turned on right now?” 

Lute clucked her tongue, chiding you. “Typical of your kind, twisting the truth to cloud the mind with unholy thoughts.” 

Your jaw dropped open as you squinted at the Lieutenant. 

“You’re the one that brought it up!” Your legs kicked and scraped against the floor with your sudden burst of energy. “You fuckin’ weirdo!” 

“That’s rich comin’ from you!” Adam hollered. He had the gall to turn away from a shamefaced Lucifer to look down at you with digitized eyes. “The freaky fuck that literally had the Devil’s dick in her mouth all day every day!” 

     Lute snickered as if her superior had  the funniest thing ever. It had you grimacing while saliva pooled in your mouth. 

“Think about that a lot, do you?” You asked, wincing. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were jealous.” 

“Bitch you wish you could get this dick. Every bitch wishes they could get a piece of this.” Adam retorted cockily. “It is a shame though — if you didn’t fuck yourself on his cock and get yourself killed, I might’ve rocked your world.”

Lute hissed as you met his declaration with a peel of laughter, put off as your frame shook. 

“No need.” You tittered. “Eve made it clear that I wouldn’t be missing much.” 

Something in the air seemed to change at that, as Adam’s grin deflated. “What did you fuckin’ say?” 

Laughing burned your lungs, but you did so with as much gusto as you could muster. 

“Yeah.” You . “You know, Eve? Your wife? The one you left so unsatisfied she was tempted by an adorable snake to abandon you? I think I can take her word for it that you’re not the best lay —”

“You shut your whore mouth right fucking now.” Adam was looming over you in a flash, gritting his static teeth at your mocking expression. “Or I’ll —”

“Or you’ll what?” You jeered. “Keep projecting?”

Adam chuckle was far less boisterous than it had been before as he sank down to your level. 

“I don’t think you get it, cuntbag. You’re in my house. And your little devil dildo over there,” Adam gestured vaguely to Lucifer, then to the rest of Heaven before him. “Ain’t got any power up here.” 

Pressure mounted in your trapezius as Adam pulled you up and close by the jaw. You breathed in the irony burn of circuitry as you were forcibly pressed against Adam’s mask. 

“So why don’t you be a good girl and shut the fuck up before you get yourself smited?” 

Adam tilted his head, as if just now hearing himself talk. “Smited? Smit? Smoted? How the fuck do you say that?” 

“It’s a mystery, sir.” You heard Lute somewhere outside of the blood roaring in your ears. 

Your wings ripped through your skin as though it were paper, sprouting up like the trunk of a great oak tree without regard for anything in its path. 

Lute shouted in surprise as she was catapulted away from you and back into the shrieking crowd, rushing to get out of the way of the projectile exterminator. Your wings knocked her clear out, and the sensation was unlike anything you’d ever felt before, but you lept to your feet as soon as she disappeared. 

Adam exclaimed in surprise at the same time you spied the fallen lieutenant’s spear and snatched it up.  

Hefting it up like a baseball bat, you took a swing and slammed it against the side of Adam’s head. He pitched to one side with a curse, one hand coming up to cradle beneath his horns when you smacked him again. Your adrenaline had spiked, giving you enough strength to whack the stupid thing off with a third strike. 

“What the fuck? What the fuck?!” Adam’s voice lost its booming quality as he was revealed. But there was no time to take in just how pathetically unimpressive he appeared beneath all the angelic garb.

      You wasted no time racing toward Lucifer who, to say looked stunned would be an understatement, and clung to the gate. Your graceless crash seemed to snap him out of his trance, and the peculiar feeling of his still dagger-like claws desperately felt for your hands. 

Your name tumbled from his lips, as honeyed and reverent as a devoted follower looking upon God himself. 

“I love you!” The words were out of your mouth, finally. “I love you. I love you. I love you!” 

His gaze was nearly back to normal, but at their most demonic they still shone with awe. Lucifer’s soft inhale would’ve made you weep had he not suddenly looked behind you in horror. 

“Look out!” There was a split second between his scream, his aggressive tugging as if to pull you through the metallic frames, and your glance back to see the edge of an ax headed right for you. 

Your wing missed being cleaved by a fraction of an inch, fingers unlatching from the gate just in time to avoid being chopped off. 

    You and Lucifer pulled back from each other as the bizarre hybrid weapon scraped against the gilded post between you. The force of it resulted in sparks cast off and into the clouds below. 

Adam’s bulk was frightfully close, his human face twisted in an ugly rage. His arms retracted, guitar-ax rising to once again swing down on you as you skidded backward. 

“Fuck the ‘forgive and forget’ bullshit!” The first man sounded crazed. His eyes were blazing as he targeted you with another swipe. “I knew you were gonna mess everything up as soon as you got here, just like the ungrateful whore you are!” 

‘Jesus Christ.’ You might’ve raised an eyebrow if things were less dire. ‘I was half serious about the whole projecting thing. Damn.’

                                 “ADAM!”

The voice from on high thundered, prying you and Adam from your dual to stare at the source. 

Sera descended upon Heaven’s plane, and you noticed minutely that Emily was beside her, fumbling her fingers together as the crowd of her kin parted like the Red Sea to let them through. 

“Enough of this! You will invoke His wrath upon us all if this continues!” Sera thundered. 

      Lute was fighting against some invisible restraint like a fly in a spider’s web at her right, golden eyes screaming as they flit around to take in the scene she was thrown from. 

You and Adam remained at a standstill, both of you panting heavily as the magnitude of what you’d done caught up with you. You yourself could scarcely believe you’d managed to hold your own as well as you did. 

“She… fuck…” Adam sucked in a deep breath. “She brought him here. She fuckin’ brought Evil to our door! And you let her!” 

“I said enough.” Sera responded. “This has gone too far. Cast your weapons to the side.” 

The Seraphim’s eyes cut from Adam to you, gripping Lute’s spear with shaking hands. 

After a long, tense pause, you dropped the spear and kicked it away. Adam remained petulant until Sera moved to stride over and take the ax-guitar. He tossed it away as if anyone else touching the thing was unthinkable. 

The glorious Seraphim kept stalwart and tall, though her out-of-place curls and stormy eyes betrayed that she was put out. It felt wrong to see her that way. 

“Go to Lucifer.” 

You blinked up at her. 

“And bid him goodbye. Forever.” 

You trembled like you’d been doused in ice water, spear falling to the ground. Internally you wanted to scream at the mere prospect of being separated from Lucifer. Again. 

    Never seeing him again was logical. It was the only conclusion to all of this, really. But unlike before, when you could convince herself that missing him was enough, Lucifer was within reach. 

The line of your mouth trembled, eyes growing wet and glassy. The shake of your head when you couldn’t utter the word ‘no’ was pointedly ignored by Sera. She stood like a mountain, waiting for you to obey. 

Your name was called, and you pivoted to see Lucifer. He was smiling softly, it too trembling as he waited outside the gateway where you and Adam had migrated closer to in your fight. 

       Lucifer beckoned you with an outstretched hand, reaching into a viper’s den to bring you close again. Tears pooled from your eyes and trailed down your cheeks as you made your way toward him on shaky legs. 

You paused before walking past the gold and platinum ax that sparkled in the corner of your eye. 

“She can’t do it.” Adam accused behind your back. “She can’t fucking do it! She can spread her legs for the root of all Evil, but she can’t even —”

Was it possible?

To black out for ten seconds?

Fuck if you knew. 

It only became apparent that you’d turned round with Adam’s guitar in both hands after it was far, far too late.

     The ax cut through balmy air, glittering in the omnipresent sunlight before it hit its mark. Golden blood spurt in all directions, splashing over your face, neck and shoulders. Some of it burst into your mouth, gaping as you realized what you’d just done. 

     Adam’s headless body continued to stand upright for several seconds before it collapsed at your feet. 

*

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[canarybell]

Sometimes I think about how liberating that moment must have been for Aziraphale:

Like yeah, scary too, I'm not trying to paint Aziraphale's experience in Hell as some kind of a fun trip.

But also.

Angel spent most of his existence (since Before the Beggining!) fearing something would happen to Crowley. With a big part of this 'something' coming from the very fact of them being close - can you imagine living with the knowledge that you are one of the reasons why your loved one is perpetually in a mortal danger?

And here? Aziraphale has a chance to change it. Maybe not forever (though I think Aziraphale would want to believe it is possible), but for a while for sure.

Scare all of Hell's demons away from Crowley. Make Michael of Heaven aware that holy water won't work on him. Convince everybody that Crowley has a lot, a lot more to offer, and he's the one to be feared. Make people who might hurt Crowley- Beelzebub, Hastur, Dagon, Michael - agree to left him alone for foreseeable future.

Can you imagine - living with a fear so big that it has become basically a part of your identity, and then get a chance to laugh the sources of that fear in their faces? Break away from that constant feeling of terror and hopelessness, believe that you can finally save your loved one in a way that matters most to you?

Yes, it didn't last long - for 4 years at most. Then all that happened in S2 made it clear they won't be left alone by their higher-ups, and that their de facto partnership is still something that can be used to put a collar of fear on angel.

But that exact moment? I think it was everything for Aziraphale.

[checkertrains]

Luci and Adam redesign/my version! 🍎🎸

Here’s the brief explanation n a bit of lore for why i designed them like this! (Warning, it’s basically just me rambling LMAOO)

Lucifer 🍎:

I let him kept the whole angelic aesthetic cause even if he’s a fallen Angel his features didn’t seem to get distorted or turn “demonic” (from what I’ve read anyways), so by that logic he can still be God most beautiful Angel, and it fit too cause Demons are usually more attractive or good looking to lure in people, deceiving people with their good look. He’s also kinda stuck in the past so usually he’ll appear in his heavenly robe or any old school outfits that he deems old enough

Lucifer in my version is more similar to his pilot personality, he’s more king like in this sense! And of course he’s pretty prideful, and is in denial about having Fallen, he still present himself as if he’s a pure Angel and hates having to interact with Sinners, he’s more lenient with hellborns as they are his rightful subjects after all. But yeah, anyone that isn’t him is often meet with nonchalant or cold attitude, he also doesn’t really care about Charlie whole Hotel, he doesn’t support it nor does he hate it. Cause it have nothing to do with him, he does think it’s a little silly and speak to Charlie like she’s still a child essentially. (He still like ducks in my ver heheheh)

Adam 🎸:

I wanted him to have something nature related in his outfit so I gave him some leaf lol, and his fit is changed so that it resembles a priest outfit more than a simple dress, the halo on his neck and hands restricts his powers, like a power dampener (I based them off of Sun Wu Kong headband!), the seraphim uses it to control how he acts, they can also communicate with him through them, commanding him without using too much energy, Words of god kinda thing. These halo can weaken him A LOT like at some point it can even stop him from using powers entirely, it doesn’t hurt him physically. The halo on his head make it so that anyone who look at him will only see a blur, or blurry version of his face

His helmet has three faces, when he’s wearing it he can see from either sides or all of them, it help him counter attacks, his exorcist uniform is just like his normal outfit, just with more gold, the horns on his head emit holy light, stopping any demons n Sinners from looking at him unless they want to lose their sight, he can also use it to gather up energy to shoot out a massive beam that can erase anything in it path. His wings are based on duck wings but more durable, water and blood can’t stick to it which is fantastic for clean up!

[ineffablerainstorm]

I’m still not over this “former demon” thing. I mean, what does it MEAN. Is demon a job description? Can he choose not to be a demon? What about Aziraphale? He seems to think he’s still an angel, right? Even if he doesn’t work for heaven. And Crowley still calls him angel (also for endearment purposes probably, but still).

Or does Crowley just say it for Shax’s benefit. Not a demon anymore as in holy water can’t hurt me. (“He isn’t one of us anymore”)

Crowley doesn’t want to be a demon right? He never wanted to be. Does he just choose not to be? Like the same way he chose a new name?

He isn’t one of the bad guys. He didn’t want to be before, but he had to pretend at least (“I go along with hell as far as I can”). Now he just is his own thing. Not a demon. Not an angel. Crowley.

[rosettyller]

some analysis of this scene from 2x02, because i am going absolutely insane over it:

first up: it's 2 500 BCE. They've known each other for around 1500 years at this point, but they haven't been meeting up very often; it's implied at this point, that they've only met at the Garden, and the Flood, and now here (as well as in Heaven, but there's varying interpretations about how much they each remember of Heaven).

(worth noting that these meetings are all bible-related meetings)

So, they don't know each other very well at all. This is why Aziraphale approaches Crowley so cautiously (apart from the fact that he thinks Crowley's going around murdering goats and soon kids). He doesn't know what happened to Crowley when he Fell, how he changed when he fell in with Lucifer, how God's rejection has warped Crowley's perspective or changed his morals (their meeting at the Flood seemed quite short, not enough time to get a definite picture.)

Aziraphale is still seeing Crowley as demonic, although there's already that thread of doubt - can you really see him trying to talk Hastur or Ligur out of this the way he does Crowley?

Aziraphale clings to the memory of Angel Crowley - Crowley gets quite defensive.

Here, Crowley reinforces that he's changed - personally I don't believe that he did fight in the War, but his views of God's Plan definitely got more extreme than "thats terrible god should get a suggestion box".

But, I also believe that here, Crowley is reinforcing that he is no longer an angel, and therefore no longer has to play by angel rules. He can do what he wants. He's a demon, it's in his job description.

And of course, that he is a demon, and he is Evil, and of course he would kill goats.

(more under the cut, because I just can't stop talking)

This shot is very yellow. Crowley's hair being the season 1 orange rather than red, the yellow walls, all accentuate the colour of Crowley's eyes, highlighting the physical reminder of Crowley's demonic nature.

I couldn't be bothered to gif it, but here, Crowley leans forward into Aziraphale's face. There are two reasons for this:

Get his yellow Demon Eyes right in Aziraphale face, just to hammer home his point.

It's an aggressive action, moving into someone's personal space like that. Saying, I could hurt you, I'm violent and aggressive and dangerous, I killed those goats, the kids are next.

The way the light hits Crowley's eyes in the above shot and the below shot also make them a very bright yellow. (Edit: I think someone pointed out that Crowley is making his eyes glow, but the overall yellowness of the scene serves to highlight this)

Clever wording on Crowley's part, because as we will find out, he faked the destruction of the goats to keep them safe, while making himself sound very evil.

You'll notice the repetition of "blameless"; this makes him seem even more evil, hurting the innocent, but also gives deeper insight into one of Crowley's biggest issues: hurting the innocent. What have they done to deserve this? Nothing.

This ties in quite nicely with what we have seen before of Crowley and free will; he gives people the option to sin. It's their actions that decide whether they end up in Heaven or Hell; they get what they deserve for their actions. He just makes it easier to choose Hell. (see: phone lines being down making people crankier and encouraging them to be horrible to each other, but it still being their choice, setting the holy water bucket above the door, so it's Ligur's choice to come in after Crowley that gets him killed.)

Note also the use of "long":

Aziraphale says to "tell me you want to do this". "Long" has rather stronger connotations than "want", but also rawer, more fundamental. Crowley is reminding Aziraphale that he is a demon, and that he has the traits of a demon, this is what he is now. He longs for violence, for destruction.

Aziraphale looks quite sad here. If you watch the video I linked, his previous conviction that Crowley doesn't want to do it is very strong. He fully believes in Crowley, that all he needs to do is reframe not killing the kids as within the rules of Hell, the way Crowley so often comes to do for Aziraphale ("Then you can't be certain that thwarting me isn't part of the divine plan too. I mean, you're supposed to thwart the wiles of the Evil One at every turn, aren't you?" "If you put it that way, Heaven couldn't actually mind me thwarting you.").

Aziraphale believed Crowley was still good, that the angel he remembered was still in there. But Crowley rejects it - and it hurts. Crowley has become what a demon should be.

Crowley looks quite sorrowful here, too: he already cares for Aziraphale (he fell in love at the Garden), and it hurts to decieve him, to disappoint him, to hurt him.

I would argue that here, Crowley is scared.

He's in shadow, which dims the yellows; his undemonic nature is about to be revealed.

And that is not safe, because Hell does not send rude notes. And here, Crowley is not doing just any temptation, but trying to help Satan win a bet (supposedly). And out of every demon in Hell, Satan is the one you want to piss off the least.

But here, Crowley is scared because Aziraphale could reveal him - because Aziraphale is on God's side, and because it is revealed that Crowley is not nearly as demonic as he makes himself out to be. He's vulnerable. Aziraphale could scorn him, hurt him. But instead:

Aziraphale is incredibly smug. "I knew I was right", he says. "I knew you were still good".

And here is another issue: Aziraphale conflates God/Heaven/angels with good, and demons/Hell with bad.

And Crowley does not see Heaven as good. He doesn't want Aziraphale to see his angelic core past the demonic exterior. He's on his own side.

This, for Aziraphale, confirms that "the angel you knew is not me", is not correct.

And I think, out of the three minisodes, it's this one that does the most for fleshing out Aziraphale and Crowley's frames of mind this series, and why they choose what they choose in ep6.

Aziraphale has been proven right about Crowley's angelic nature, and that he wants to do good, but can't, for fear of Hell's retribution.

And Crowley does not see Heaven as good. He recognises that being an angel again will not allow him the freedom to do good. (as Aziraphale had to try and talk a demon into helping him save the kids from God.)

[purerae]

╭────༺♡༻────╮

YANDERE!DEMON X ANGEL!READER (GN) // PT1

warnings ;; possessive behaviour, yandere themes, i have no real knowledge of how demons nd angels work pls forgive me !!

req by ;; @kenji-sato <3

╰────༺♡༻────╯

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!DEMON who’s literally the most charming and prettiest demon in the whole dimension. He was made to seduce humans into giving into their lust and committing sins.

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!DEMON who views both humans and angels unappealing to look at. Humans are too…morally gray and act like they know it all. While angels believe they know better than the ‘dirty little demons’. He thinks that angels are hypocrites

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!DEMON who was minding his business, sneaking around places in the spiritual world until his eyes land on you. You looked so innocent, so naive, so easy to corrupt.

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!DEMON who slyly walks up to you when you reach a dead end and puts an arm against the wall. He gives you a wild cheshire grin, as his horns flare up and his devils tail tickles under your chin. “What’s an Angel doing out here? Causing trouble~? We don’t want another fallen one down here do we cutie?~”

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!DEMON who gets taken back when you’re literally the most friendly being on earth. Angels normally give him a dirty look and curse him for being on the devils side but..you…you’re just so nice????

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!DEMON who literally combusts when he hears your voice. You introduce yourself with the cutest smile hes ever seen??? Why does he want to go on his knees for you??? did you bless him with some spell??? If he had to make up a heaven, He’d just put your face and voice everywhere.

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥YANDERE!DEMON who goes redder than hellfire but covers it up with a smirk and goes back to his normal charismatic ways. Flirting with you while you just softly giggle at him. (stop giggling or he will whimper and scream, this mf is in love with you in first sight)

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥YANDERE!DEMON who now follows you around everywhere. Unfortunately you tend to hang around the higher levels of angels who seem to be very protective of you so he has to be sneaky. You’re just so cute… Why do you have to be the purest thing in the world :( Let him corrupt you so you guys can be together forever in hell!

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥YANDERE!DEMON who snarls at the angels telling you to avoid him. Who do they think they are. You’re the only one worthy of the true definition of an angel. The rest are mindless followers. You are the only one who’s worthy in his heart.

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥YANDERE!DEMON who hasn’t visited the human world in a while. Too focused on you, he forgets to lure humans in and corrupt them. You made him dumb in love !

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥YANDERE!DEMON who always tries to take the lead, holding your hand, making you sit on his lap, whispering sensually in your ears. But you don’t get flustered. So why does he have to get flustered at the bare minimum you do! Why does he melt into a puddle when you smile at him?!

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥YANDERE!DEMON who thought being a demon was the best thing in the universe and he would rather burn in holy water than be an angel, thinks about being good for you. If he decides to change his ways back into being the pretentious angels then maybe he could be around you more. and protect you from the stupid angels.

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥YANDERE!DEMON who gets angry when he realises he’s not the only demon you’re nice too. What do you mean you scold other demons for hurting themselves?? What do you mean you have inside jokes with them?? What do you mean you hang out with the other demons and they act soft around you too?? It was supposed to be him. Just him.

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥YANDERE!DEMON who’s had enough of you being nice to everyone. He needs to have you all to himself. No demons. No angels. No humans. You don’t need anyone. You only need him.

“Angel~ Come here, I need to show ya’ something!”

purerae<3

[deanscherrypie420]

𝑫𝒊𝒕𝒛𝒚 𝑫𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒏

A/N: Hi guys! This idea just like.. came to me. I hope you guys like it! Don't worry, I will make more Sammy fics.. Nobody has asked I just figured its been a minute lol. If you enjoy this story, feel free to follow, comment and reblog <3 All feedback is appreciated! Enjoyyy!

Characters: Dean Winchester, Reader Y/N, Sam Winchester, Bobby Singer, Castiel

Pairing: Dean Winchester X Reader

Warnings: Bimbo!Demon reader (Hear me out-), Demon!Dean, holy water, supernatural stuff, devils trap, cursing, shopping spree, sexual dialogue, groping, thigh grinding, edging/orgasm denial, praise kink, smut.

Summary: After running into the Winchesters, you find yourself in a sticky situation. You didn't expect your soon-to-be shopping spree to get turned into an interrogation. Fortunately, after lots of discussion, you convince the group to let you go. Oh how Dean regrets it.

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She was looking into a diner window, using it as a mirror as she reapplied her lipgloss. She carefully patted her lips with the pad of her middle finger, her lips in a perfect "O" shape.

She heard a faint sound of men laughing and adjusted her eyes to see through the glass, now noticing the two men at the diner. She smiled and rested her finger on her bottom lip, tugging it down slightly. She blinked and her eyes went black, staring down at the two.

It was a fun trick she did when she noticed men staring, scaring them to death, only for nobody to believe them. She noticed them stare at each other, the typical startled expression overwhelming their faces.

She turned on her heel and strutted down the sidewalk, a triumphant smile forming on her face. Her eyes were back to their normal Y/E/C color. She flipped her hair over her shoulder, listening to the urgent footsteps that followed behind her.

Y/N turned and grinned, giving the men a flirty wave. "Hi, boys! Can I help you?" She questioned, finding their expressions amusing. "I don't know, Sweetheart. What the hell was that little show you put on for us?" The shorter one asked, moving cautiously towards her.

"Oh, you mean this?" She blinked again and her eyes turned dark, a cheeky smile returning to her face. She expected their shocked expressions, hell everyone got scared. What she didn't predict was the holy water that burned her face shortly after.

She hissed and stumbled back into an alley, "You're gonna ruin my makeup!" She screamed, her hands covering her face as she stepped back further.

"That's your concern? Your makeup?" The taller man questioned, raising his brows in disbelief. She nodded quickly, flicking the burning water off of her hands. "Get the hell away from me! Who even are you?" She spat at them.

"Oh, baby. We're the Winchesters. Some of the best damn hunters you'll ever meet." Her eyes widened when she felt a blade enter her shoulder, a loud whine echoing off the walls.

She gasped and looked down at her now stained tube top, the blood quickly oozing down into the white fabric. "My shirt-!" She was cut off by a hand covering her mouth, the damp fabric hurting her skin. The holy water dripped down and evaporated off of her chest. Her vision went blurry and before she knew it, she was out.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Y/N woke up, her head lulled forward. She went to stand up, but was restricted by ropes to a chair. She shouted out and four men entered the room.

"Who are you?" She mumbled, nodding towards the two new faces. "I'm Castiel, the Winchesters guardian angel. This is Bobby Singer. That is Dean and Sam Winchester." The man in a trench-coat explained.

She rolled her eyes, "Well duh, I know who those two are." She said as she eyed the boys. Dean quickly walked towards her, stopping at the edge of the devils trap she was enclosed in. "See this? You're stuck here until you talk." He explained.

"You're tellin' me this girl is a demon?" Bobby asked, a quick, breathy laugh leaving her before he splashed holy water on her. She hissed and cried out, her fists clenching around the wood seat.

"What the hell! What did I do!" She barked, her face scrunched up as the liquid slowly fell to the floor. Sam stood behind her, Dean now standing outside of the trap directly in front of her. She thought it was odd, but didn't have much time to think about it.

"How did you find us, and who are you?" Sam questioned, his fingers curling around the back of the chair. "Find you? I didn't find you, I ran into you by chance."

Sam opened a flask and poured water down the back of her shirt. She screamed, tears starting to pool in her eyes. "How did you find us?" Castiel repeated from the corner of the room. She glanced up at him, her pupils now shot. "I didn't find you..." She barely whispered.

"Name! What's you're name!" The older Winchester hollered, making her flinch back. She glared at him, the fear in her eyes dissolving. "My names Y/N." She answered gruffly, her brows knitted tight together.

Suddenly, Bobby splashed more water at her. She closed her eyes and bit her lip to keep quiet, but was surprised when she heard a yell. She opened her eyes wearily, noticing the steam rising from Dean's arm.

"You're a demon?" She asked, a nervous edge in her voice. It made sense. He didn't step too close to the circle and he didn't carry holy water on him.

"Pretty much, Sweetheart." He rolled his sleeves up, showing her the mark on his arm. Her eyes widened and she felt a bit uneasy. "So why are you attacking me..? We're like the same thing, right?"

"Not even close. He doesn't murder people." Sam answered, moving from behind her and now next to his brother. "I don't kill people? I guess I mean I hurt peoples feelings but I don't kill them!" She protested in a hurry, noticing the older man grabbing a book and whispering Latin under his breath.

"Stop, please! Listen to me! I don't hurt people!" She started getting overwhelmed, her eyes flickering from black to Y/E/C. She was hyperventilating and she bit down on her lip, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Stop! I said stop!"

The room went white, the men grunted as they got back up to their feet. They didn't know what she did, but she broke the devils trap along with half of everything else Bobby owned. Once they were to their feet, they all stared at her.

Y/N was on the ground breathing heavily, curled into a ball on the floor. Her eyes slowly fluttered open, reaching her hands out in front of her to steady herself. She moved to sit down on the floor, an anxious expression evident in her features. "Don't hurt me." She pleaded quietly.

Castiel crouched down in front of her and rested a hand on her knee. "Are you okay?" She nodded and sunk her teeth into the soft flesh of her lip, her eyes a bit puffy from crying.

"You guys are mean." She hiccuped, wiping her eyes with the back of her wrist. Sam raised his brows just like before and he nodded, "Wow. Yeah, uh, I think maybe we can believe her."

Bobby nodded and said something under his breath before stepping out of the room. Castiel followed shortly after, but the brothers stayed to chat with her.

They talked for some time, and she explained why she did what she did. Dean slid his his hand down his face, an exasperated expression following in its wake. "Holy shit, you are one dumb demon. You're aware that that can get you killed?" Sam had to hold back a laugh, shaking his head as he looked down at the floor. "I think she gets that now."

"I wanted to go shopping... You guys ruined my day." She huffed and crossed her arms, turning her face away from the boys. "Alright, Sweetheart. How about I drive you to wherever you were staying, you get cleaned up and then we take you to the mall. How does that sound?" He offered, and her eyes lit up.

"Oh my gosh! You would do that!" She stood up quickly and hugged Dean, her arms squeezing tight around his neck. He was stiff at first but eventually hugged her back, his arms gently squeezing around her waist.

Sam cleared his throat and began slowly creeping out of the room. "I'm not going. You two have fun." He stated quickly before leaving completely. Dean patted her back and she pulled away from him, pecking his cheek before strutting happily out of the room.

Jesus Christ, he thought to himself.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

When they arrived at her hotel, Dean was impressed. It was a fancy joint, tall building and nice decor. He insisted he'd wait in the car as she got ready and she agreed. He watched her prance into the hotel, her heels echoing into the car through the half opened window.

After about forty-five minutes, he heard the now familiar clack of her shoes and he turned his head. His jaw dropped. She was wearing a light pink, cropped tank top along with the shortest shorts he's ever seen. The white straps of her thong hung on her hips above her shorts, making her curves more noticeable.

Her heels matched her jewelry, white rhinestones covering the baby pink material. Her ears were decorated with pink and white-gold dangling earrings, small heart shapes above the two hanging pieces.

She slid into the passenger side door, the scent of her perfume flooding his senses. "Hi! Sorry I took so long. I couldn't decide which top I wanted, but I ended up choosing this one. Do you like it?" She asked as she moved to face him completely. Her shorts rode up the tops of her thighs impossibly higher.

Dean groaned and threw his head back into the headrest, shutting his eyes tight. "What? Do you not like it?" She pouted, her bottom lip jutting out.

"You look fucking fantastic, Sweetheart. Now let's go." He said, not daring to look at her again. She grabbed her phone from her purse and began texting away, quiet giggles erupting from her randomly.

He glanced over, his eyes skimming over her. "What's so funny?" He asked and her smile only grew. "You're gonna pay for the shopping trip, right?"

He closed his eyes and exhaled, reaching his hand over to pat her leg. "Sure thing, Princess." He muttered and she squealed in excitement. She moved her hand to cover his on her thigh, squeezing it in appreciation. "Thank you, Dean!"

"Sure thing." He kept his hand there, his thumb rubbing back and forth on the side of the soft flesh. She toyed with his fingers, pushing back his cuticles and studying his nails. "You could use a manicure." She suggested and he gave her a firm slap on the thigh before pulling his hand away.

"Keep dreamin', Sweetheart." She pouted and dragged his hand back to hers, interlacing her fingers with him. "Be nice to me!" She ordered and he scoffed. "Talk to me like that again and you'll be bent over Baby."

"Baby?" She questioned, leaning towards him a bit more. He pulled the car into park a little too fast, making her slide forward a bit. "The car, Sweetie. Anyway, we're here."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

They had been in the mall for hours, bags weighing down Dean's arms. He had at least a dozen bags on each side. The only thing she was holding was a large slushey.

Once she had finally decided she had enough, she dragged him into the car and ranted about how excited she was to give him a fashion show.

"Are you serious? I just followed your ass around that whole damn building and you expect me to watch you try all that shit on?" He chuckled and shook his head. "Sweetheart, there are like twenty bags back there. I'm not doin' it."

She frowned and glanced up at him, her bottom lip slightly pulling downwards. "Please..." He looked over at her and cursed under his breath. "Fine. Stop looking at me like that."

She giggled and leaned closer, her hands resting on his thigh. "Like what, Dean?" She batted her eyelashes, her fingers gently digging into his leg. He bit his lip and grasped her hands. He shoved her back and she giggled.

When they arrived at her hotel she led him to her room and she took a handful of the bags from him, heading into the bathroom to change. He watched her twirl around in various different dresses, outfits and- Holy fuck.

Lingerie.

She did her little strut through the hotel room, showing him all the different angles of her outfits. He tried hiding the raging boner growing in his pants, but the denim betrayed him.

She smiled when she noticed it, raising a brow. "Oh, Dean." She giggled and slowly walked towards him, the black lace cupping her breasts and pushing them up.

She leaned down and rested her hands on the bed next to him, moving to crawl into his lap. He groaned and pulled her closer, his nails imprinting her hips.

He positioned her so she was straddling his thigh. "What are you doin', Sweetheart?" He asked as she ran her fingers through his hair. "I wanna play with you." She giggled, leaning forward to kiss him.

He completed the kiss, slowly beginning to move her body back and forth, grinding her core against his leg. She whimpered into the kiss, his mouth abruptly leaving hers, moving down to trail bite marks down her neck.

She whined and her head fell back, quiet moans leaving her throat. He pushed his thigh up further and pulled her down harder, making her cry out. Her knuckles turned white from how hard she was squeezing his shoulders, so close to release.

He groaned and one of his hands moved up her back, pulling her head backwards by yanking on her hair. She gasped, clenching around nothing as she moved in rhythm with him.

"Are you close, Princess?" He whispered in her ear, nibbling on the pulse point beneath it. She nodded eagerly and he smacked her ass hard. "Words, sweet girl."

"Y-yes, I'm really- really close." She whimpered out, her thighs squeezing tightly around his. "Good girl." He praised, and she gasped, the feeling in her stomach so close to breaking.

Suddenly, he pulled her off of him, setting her down onto the bed next to him. She protested, incoherent rambles spewing out of her mouth. He shoved his thumb into her mouth, shutting her up instantly.

"Awh, Sweetheart. You look so pathetic. Go back into the bathroom and keep the show going." He told her, and she tried to argue. He just clamped her jaw closed and hushed her. "You wanted to do a fashion show, baby. You better finish it, and then maybe I'll let you cum."

She nodded and stood up, his thumb sliding out of her mouth. She stumbled over to the door and closed it behind her. He sighed in satisfaction, leaning back onto the bed.

"Such a good girl."

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A/N: I Hope you guys enjoyed! It was - also - kind of rushed. Let me know if I made any mistakes <3 Please follow and comment if you liked it :) All feedback is so appreciated! Send requests if you have anything you want me to write about <3

[wrengrif]

I rub my hands together..

Because I am having more Thoughts.

Big thanks to @badaziraphaletakes for pointing out the fucking obvious to me.

We talk a lot in this fandom about trauma, how Heaven and Hell leaves different kinds of psychological, and physical scars on our angel and demon. Mostly though, we focus on the psychological damage that comes from Heaven and the physical torture that comes from Hell. I am of the belief that Heaven and Hell drop a lot of both on their environs, but that's a post for a different day.

Trauma isn't that simple, though. It doesn't matter what kind you face, your reaction to it is going to fall under animal instinct. What is truly horrifying is the realization that Crowley's and Aziraphale's gut reactions are completely the opposite of what their Bosses are.

When Crowley feels like he, or Aziraphale is in danger, instead of fangs out, he's looking for the nearest escape route. The easiest way to make the problem go away. He runs away -- but of course he runs away. If he doesn't run away, he's going to be tortured. He is going to receive physical damage for making a mistake. So flight is the best option. The ability to get away, to think of how to avoid that pain, one way or another, is so Crowley-coded. I've always stated that Crowley is the strategist, the one who makes the complicated plans. He takes himself away from the problem, so he can analyze the problem. He runs away, and then he turns back. Once he has enough physical safe space, he can sit back and look to see what can be done.

He never had a chance to do that really in the last days of Armageddon, because Hell was nipping right on his heels and he had to keep retreating. Until he was put in a corner, and then you saw the Serpent come out. His fear of pain lasts until he is more afraid of losing his life, or Aziraphale. For example, the bucket of holy water. Walking into a consecrated church. Walking into a burning bookshop. The M25 - he literally drove Right Into The Fire, even with Hastur there because he had to get to Aziraphale and he had to survive driving through a ring of fire. Crowley runs from pain, but that doesn't stop him from attacking if he's got no other options.

Aziraphale is the opposite. His trauma is one I am well acquainted with, and that is psychological abuse, and torture. Don't let it fool you - just because you aren't having someone hurt you with a screwdriver doesn't mean it's any less devastating to your body, much less your mind. What Heaven does is use Fear. Fear like a scalpel, or a baseball bat to your knees. The Fear of Falling, the Fear of being considered Unworthy of God's love. The Fear of being considered less than your fellow angels, although you'll always be lesser than archangel. Fear of being yourself, fear of being anything less than perfect. All the fucking time. Nothing can save you, but us, and if you turn against us, you're screwed. Aziraphale, though, he doesn't run. He's never run. He's a Guardian. A Principality. He held a flaming sword and he held it well. Oh, he will bald-face lie to God, to archangels, to Crowley, but he doesn't run. He will try to find a way out of it with the most convoluted stories. He'll smile, look pleasant and distant and not quite there. Don't notice me. Don't worry about me. I'm not doing anything wrong for you to hurt me. Only thing he fears more than Heaven is Hell, and he's not even scared of Hell as a concept, but as a fact of Hell will hurt Crowley. Hell will take Crowley away. Hell will reach up and snatch Crowley away in a heartbeat and there isn't anything Aziraphale can do about it. Fear, fear, fear. Yet he doesn't run. He fights. He fights with words, and when there's nothing left with that, he fights with his wits, and then when he has no more left of that - he stands his ground with a weapon. A sword. A halo. His own physical body, if necessary.

Where am I going with all this?

That Season 3 is going to be You Reap What You Sow. Crowley is trapped in his misery and he can't run from it, because Aziraphale is in danger. Aziraphale is trapped and afraid, and he can't do anything about it because they'll hurt Crowley. What neither Heaven or Hell has realized yet - and I especially mean Heaven in this juncture -- is that they haven't given Crowley or Aziraphale any choices. They've been trapped in a corner by both of their abusers.

Their abusers who have never seem to learn the lesson that if you trap Crowley and Aziraphale in a corner, they're going to turn around and bite. Bite as hard as they possibly can - just to protect one another.

[al-of-the-stars]

"Lily of the Valley"

Lute x GN Angel Reader

Synopsis: After being saved from a near-death encounter, you slowly fall in love with Lute, the very same angel who had rescued you. Little do you know, she harbors the same feelings for you.

A/n: I honestly had this idea in a dream and when I remembered it, my first thought was "holy shit I GOTTA write this" Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy!

You never had much of a relationship with Lute. Sure, you were pretty good acquaintances but there wasn’t much more to it than that. You both worked for the exorcist army but she was on the battlefield while you were on the sidelines as a strategist, planning the exterminators' next move. That was until one extermination. While you were lost in your own plans, your eyes practically glued to the map in your hands,you failed to notice the demon behind you holding an angelic weapon. Just when the sinner was about to stab you, you felt another presence nearby. When you turned around, you saw none other than the lieutenant of the exorcists herself, covered in splashes of crimson. Your eyes went wide and you felt golden blood rush to your face, though you couldn't tell if it was from the near-death experience you just had or how attractive Lute looked while killing that unholy soul. You thought it was most likely the latter. “Are you alright? You aren't hurt anywhere, are you?” Those words snapped you out of your train of thought.

“Oh I think I'm fine, thank you,”

“It's not a problem, I'm glad you're okay,” You could have sworn you saw the face on her mask turn into a smile, but you didn't have enough time to comprehend anything as she dashed off flying. Since that day, you grew much closer. During training, you couldn't help but take glances at her. Unbeknownst to you due to the limited expression of her mask, she was doing the same. When you looked her way, she would try extra hard to impress you. All the other exorcists noticed and attempted to wingman her in their spare time.

“Just tell them already!”

“What's the worst that could happen?”

“They look at you like a lovesick anime schoolgirl, there is no way they don't like you back,” After practice, you two would usually visit a cafe and just chat; your company was the highlight of her day. This became routine and slowly, your relationship and feelings grew more and more until it became unbearable to hold it in. Lute finally got sick of those outings being just a hangout between two friends, she was sick of looking at you and wishing she could just grab your waist and pull you in for a kiss, she was sick of pretending she didn't love you. Another day of training passed by and as you walked out the door of the cafe, Lute handed you an envelope.

“Open this when you get home,” She instructed. The walk back to your house felt like forever and the curiosity was practically killing you. The moment you walked through the door, you opened the neatly sealed envelope.

“Dear Y/n,

I was originally going to write a poem to explain how I felt but I'm not too great with metaphors or meanings, so I'll be straightforward with you like always. I love you. I can't help but admire you when you do the most regular things. I have fallen in love with everything about you, your smile, your eyes, your voice. If you feel the same, next time we visit somewhere after practice, I hope it can be a date.

-Lute”

Along with the letter, there was a flower. More specifically, it was a lily of the valley, a flower that represents love and sincerity. You picked up the lily and put it in a vase with water. Who knew the stone-cold lieutenant had a heart of gold?

[actual-changeling]

we never actually see crowley cry, or any demon, for that matter.

demons aren't supposed to cry, they're not supposed to feel in a way that would allow for tears. so, really, no one can blame crowley for not knowing what was going to happen when he returned to his flat, alone on earth.

his glasses land on the coffee table, he sinks onto the couch, and breathes against the pressure in his chest for as long as he can. eventually, though, his eyes squeeze shut, and for the very first time, a demon cries.

crowley might not know much, but he is pretty sure tears aren't supposed to hurt. they sting on his cheeks, dripping down his jaw like acid, and now that he's started, he cannot seem to stop.

come back. forcing shaking gasp after gasp into his frozen lungs, he claws at his arms, nails ripping through the fabric easily. thin rivulets of blood stain his fingertips, and when he tries to wipe at his wet cheeks, the skin on the back of his hands aches, too. i hate you i love you come back.

crowley cries until his face is numb with pain, and then he cries some more, uncaring of the sobs echoing through empty spaces where books and shelves should be; he misses the bookshop, he misses aziraphale, he misses not feeling like he was being torn apart from the inside out.

later, when the sun has gone down and he blinks against the artificial light in the bathroom, crowley understands why demons don't cry.

trailing down his cheeks like claw marks are dozens of thin, silver scars. the laugh escaping his throat is raw and bitter, and really, he should have seen this coming.

of course demons cry holy water.

-

(later, much, much later, when all is said and done, aziraphale asks.

"don't worry about it, angel"

"but i do worry."

"no tears are as holy as those of a demon, although i think i am the only one who ever had to find out the hard way."

"i-" "just don't leave again." "never.")

[writinginthesecrettrees]

thinking about Sam post-Gadreel going to get his anti-possession tattoo re-done. And as the artist is working on him, he starts thinking.

Goes into research mode when he gets back to the bunker, looks up every sort of anti-possession ward he can think of, dives deeper into the library and starts making his own spells. He consults with Don for some advice, digs out Patrick's number and has a sigh of relief when the witch picks up and runs his thoughts by him, too. Searches and searches until he finds a tattooist who is hunting-adjacent and understands why he wants the ink mixed with a bit of holy water.

He gets his second tattoo on his back, centered, and it takes several hours spread out over months. Castiel helps him with the aftercare, spreads balm over the healing tattoo, washes it with holy oil, makes sure it stays clean and healthy the entire time. When it's done, his back is covered in runes and Latin and Enochian sigils. Esoteric symbols from every culture he could think of. All of them geared towards protecting his mind and body and soul from demons and angels and ghosts and witches. No possession. No body-swaps. No mind-control. Everything he and the witches and Castiel and the bunker library could think of.

When his back is done, he gets bits and pieces of the tattoo done on other areas. Anti-possession tattoo behind his knee, on the sole of his foot, on his hip and shoulder and around his navel. Enochian script flowing along his biceps. Tiny runes of protection behind his ears. And it's not enough. He still doesn't feel safe.

He gives himself an undercut, shaves away the hair at the base of his skull, and has a spell tattooed onto his scalp to protect him from mind-control and starts to feel better.

Finally, he asks "Have you ever tattooed something... intimate?"

The tattooist has been in the business, and known enough hunters, not to be phased. "It'll hurt," he warns.

"I can handle pain," Sam says, and he doesn't think about the Cage as he pulls his jeans and briefs down.

The request might not have phased the artist but Sam's size has him raising an appreciative brow - still professional, nothing that makes Sam feel uncomfortable, and he's all business as he wipes Sam down with sterilizing cleanser.

"Just fit as much as you can," Sam says.

The tattooist laughs at that. "Man, I could fit a novel on this," he says and Sam blushes as he chuckles.

Sam concentrates on staring at the ceiling and keeping his breathing steady, counts his breaths while the man works. The buzz of the machine is oddly soothing, and the clinical way the man touches him is reassuring.

Safe.

And for the first time since he kicked that damned angel out of his body, he can close his eyes without seeing Kevin's burned out eyes staring blindly, accusingly, into his.

[dee-morris]

The Book of Life Is a Red Herring

Throughout season two over and over again we saw Aziraphale behaving protectively. Protecting Job's children, trying to protect Elspeth from damnation, protecting Crowley from Furfur's snitching. So it's in keeping with the narrative and his characterization that he went back to heaven with the Metatrash as some sort of protective gesture. We don't know the details and we're not meant to know, but that's the thesis I'm starting with.

(and DO NOT @ me with any of that "Aziraphale did it bc he's gaslit/naive/gullible/traumatized" bullshit. NOTHING in the narrative supports this take, it's insulting, and I'm just about done being polite about it so consider yourself warned)

A common theory I'm seeing is that he or Crowley was threatened with erasure from the Book of Life. Motherfuckertron said that Michael didn't have that kind of clearance, but maybe Metabitch does. But we're not sure that the Book of Life is even a thing. Beelz thinks that it is, but they didn't actually sound very sure if you want my opinion. (And clearly you do, since you're here reading this.) Their retort to Crowley sounded very "YUH-HUH!" to me.

I think the Book of Life is a distraction. A magician's misdirection, if you will. It's not a certain enough set piece to really work as a valid threat.

I think Metabitch threatened Crowley with holy water. "I've been looking over your previous exploits" The bitch figured out how they did it, and he knows that Crowley isn't actually immune. THIS is why Aziraphale wanted him to become an angel again so badly. Not bc he "doesn't accept Crowley as a demon" or whatever Aziraphale Slander is the Bullshit Take of the Day. It's because if Crowley becomes an angel, holy water can't hurt him. Sure there's always hellfire, but they'll have to negotiate with hell again to acquire it and Hell is currently experiencing technical difficulties so good luck with that.

He went back to protect Crowley, but because of the situation they were in (almonds are called watchers in the Bible and Metadick was standing right outside) he was unable to explain the threat directly. We know they can communicate through the Bentley, so I'm hoping they get another chance to talk soon.