#Voodoo Saint

[conjuremanj]

How To Use Saint Expedite In Your Hoodoo Spell for Fast Results.

Now if you follow me you know that hoodoo doesn't have saints root workers in hoodoo were prodasion not Catholics. But there is nothing wrong with useing them just dont put them on your hoodoo altar keep them separated.

Saint Expedite is one of the more favable saints to petition when a situation gets tough. He works quickly.

St. Expedite in Voodoo and Hoodoo: For some Haitians who practice Vodou and even Voodoo in some parts of Louisiana St. Expedite is often been associated with the Baron, "Baron Semedi" to “Baron La Croix” They are Lwa spirit's of death, he reminds us that life is meant to be enjoyed. In New Orleans voodoo St. Expedite is not associated to Baron Samedi/ Papa Gede. But like St. Expedite he works well for speedy progress for anything that feels blocked. When it comes to a working, Saint Expedite is frequently petitioned as he is known for bringing luck quickly. He is also known to aid in gambling. He is a fantastic Saint to work with when one finds themselves in a bind.

Need to know: You should only petition him when you really NEED what you're requesting. Don't petition Saint Expedite for things that would be nice to have, or things that you want. Petition him when the going gets tough and you have no other options is what best. Same goes for the Baron only for dire need.

Feast Dates: On April 19th, we celebrated the feast day of Saint Expedite.

Papa Gede feast day is November 2nd or All Souls’ Day.

Payment Offering: You must make a deal with Saint Expedite as part of the petition. Ask clearly for what you need, meaning if you petition him and promise him something for his help you must and should pay him that with his offering. He likes a piece of pound cake and a glass of water along with some flowers. (Do not pay him before the work is done - only afterward)

How I typically petition Saint Expedite: Take a red candle or glass candle if preferred.

Gede's colors are red, yellow, green, purple, black, or white.

I would rub Holy Oil, or used St Expedite oil around the wick. But you can poke three holes in the wax then put one drop of Saint Expedite Oil in each hole. I write down what I need in detail on petition paper.

Dab a little Saint Expedite on the four corners and center of the paper. Fold the corners. Place this under the dressed candle by your Saint Expedite statue or photo.

Then pray.

Prayer of Saint Expedite for Fast Results:

Saint Expedite, faithful and hard-working servant of our Lord Jesus Christ hear my plea. I come to you humbled and desperate, seeking your divine intercession on my behalf. You who have fought many righteous battles and know the pain of hard labor, help me in my hour of need.

I seek __________________________, for the best of all those involved.

I pray to you, divine servant of God that you assist me now. I offer you your due wages of a piece of pound cake, a glass of water and flowers in thanks once you have assisted me. With gratitude and humble thanks, in Jesus' name I pray. Amen!"

Let that candle burn all the way down. You can repeat this prayer every day until it has come to pass. Once the candle has burned out if you want to repeat the candle burning and prayers you certainly can but it is not necessary.

I can wear Saint Expedite Oil by dabbing a bit on the bottoms of my feet, on your wrists or behind each ear.

Paying Saint Expedite: Once Saint Expedite comes through with your request, give him his Offering.

If your calling apon Papa Gede his offering is food, candles, coffee, and gin.

Consider working with Papa Gede when you need help speeding up a process, are working towards a goal, if you feel progress is too slow, and are tired of waiting. If your Gede can help you get it moving in a positive direction. Papa Gede can bring movement and progress in situations that have stalled for weeks, months, or even years.

Petitioning Gede: When working with Gede, you will need to obtain a statue or an image of Saint Expedite and put it in a corner on the floor are your altar with his veve. To petition him, you would use a 7-day candle, depending on your situation a oil lamp is good You can give a small offering while he is working your case. When your case is resolved and you have received your results, you should give his offering very soon after. Since you experienced fast results, you should give him his offering just as quickly, unless you promised it on a certain day.

You can leave offerings on his altar for three, seven, or nine days. When the offering is finished, you can leave it in a crossroads or cemetery.

Remember the vodou spirit and the Saint are different if you plain on asking Gede for something do it with as much respect as you would a saint. You are or can be a devotee to him you can't do a lot with out knowing how to and that comes with being initiated..

[chaoticpersontale]

Castlevania: nocturne

[comicwaren]

From G.O.D.S. #002

Art by Valerio Schiti and Marte Gracia

Written by Jonathan Hickman

[theterrornaut]

SAINT CADAVER!

[babythegod]

I CALL MY DIVINE ENERGY BACK TO ME.

🧿MAY ALL LURKING EVIL EYES BE BLINDED 🧿

I am fully protected from wickedness, seen and unseen.

[mariocki]

The Saint: Sibao (3.21, ITC, 1965)

"I feel the people round here are just humouring me when they let me treat them. They've got far more faith in their own native medicine."

"Does it work?"

"Most of the time. They use potions and incantations: voodoo. All the things they don't teach in medical school."

"Maybe they should."

"I agree. I tried to learn, but even after twenty years I'm still an outsider. These are tribal secrets that belong to Africa's prehistory."

[voodoorhythmrecords]

[pandithkeerthi123]

Best Obeah Man in Saint Vincent and the Grenadines | Expert

Website: https://famousastrologycentre.com/best-obeah-man-in-saint-vincent-and-the-grenadines/

Best Obeah Man in Saint Vincent and the Grenadines offers 100% guaranteed effect solving your problems.Voodoo Expert is a recognized as Voodoo Spells Specialist

[conjuremanj]

Father Black Hawk in Voodoo.

Who Was He: Indian name is Ma-ka-tai-me-she-kia-kiak, or Black Sparrow Hawk, and he was born in 1767 at Saukenuk, located along the Rock River. Black Hawk was born into the Thunder clan. He chose to have only one wife, As-she-we-qua, or Singing Bird, they had five children—two girls and three boys.

Black Hawk was a leader and warrior of the Sauk American Indian Nation. Then he was an appointed war chief. During the War of 1812, Black Hawk fought on the side of the British. Later he led a band of Sauk and Fox warriors against settlers in Illinois and present-day Wisconsin in the 1832. After the war, he was captured and taken to the eastern United States, he died in 1838 in what is now southeastern Iowa.

A Spiritualist Saint: According to some Spiritualists, Black Hawk is a Saint sent by God. It is said that when Black Hawk comes to help, God is right behind him. Anyone who is recognized as doing the work of the Creator is considered a saint, whether or not they have been officially canonized by the Catholic Church.

Mother Leafy Anderson (circa 1887–1927), medium and miracle healer, from the black spiritual churches is considered by some as one of the founders of the Spiritual Churches here in New Orleans. Black Hawk was a spirit that she used and probably was apart of her spiritual court. He first appeared to her in a vision in Chicago, where she lived before moving to New Orleans. She described him as “The Saint For The South,” while White Hawk, served the north.

After being brought to the spiritual churches in the south like where I'm at New Orleans we honor the Native American spirit of Black Hawk. Black Hawk is also considered a Voodoo saint, He is liked by many hoodoo practitioners as well. Because of exploitation by fake marketeers, the image of this Indian spirit guide has had a big influence in my opinion fake commercial hoodoo products.

The Indian is a significant part in the art and organization of the Mardi Gras Indians, as well.

Father Black Hawk, is what he was called because no one could pronounce his given name, so it was change to Father Black Hawk by fake Root Workers. (In my opinion if you don't know who Black Hawk is and understand why he is important in southern history then don't contact him)

Is He Apart Of Hoodoo Or Voodoo: No. Black Hawk is a spirit similar to St. Expedite meaning he is a conjured spirit and like Saint expedite he's called upon us to do certain things. But he is respected in the south and apart of our history.

What Is He Invoked For:

He is invoked for help with money and protection, justice, release from prison, to win court cases, and to overcome trag­edy. He is the consummate warrior, and wants to fight your battles for you. They say he will come to those who have enough patience to sit still.

Setting Up His Altar: You need a statue or picture of him with his candle incense. But Do Not get a statue and place it in a bucket or a ceremonial bowl of sand or dirt a statue of an Indian warrior, along with a hatchet, tomahawk, and a spear. (Example above☝️) this is not hoodoo this is fake new age practice.

Give him his own space don't cram him in with others stuff on your altar.

Incense: It is usually a good idea to burn sage, cedar, or sweet grass or even Indian spirit incenses while petitioning Black Hawk.

Color: Red or White

Dislikes: Some people insist on giving him whiskey to “fire him up,” But this is a stereotype of a Indian man drunken on fire water. Disrespect.

Don't put lightning-struck wood on his altar is good (remember, he is of the Thunder clan)

Petitioning Him: put on some traditional Native American music or play a drum, rattle or flute. (I prefer a rattle while listening to native music)(see my post in rattles)

Offering: Offer him tobacco and food like beans, rice. Then recite one of the prayers to Black Hawk, afterwards talk to him and tell him what you need.

Days Of The Week: Wednesday, Sunday

Prayer:. Isaiah 62:6-9 KJV. Is good.

Prayer to Black Hawk: Oh Great Spirit, hear my voice, I believe in your power and your ability to defend me. In the name of all that is good, I ask for your help with this battle, my battle, with those who intend to harm me. Oh Powerful Spirit, you are the Great Chief, Help me with your Warrior medicine and guide me to safety with your Divine protection, shield me from the attacks of my enemies, with your bow and arrow, protect me from the evil thoughts and actions hurled towards me. With your hatchet, cut the chains and ropes that bind me. With your feathers, brush away the negative energy surrounding me. With your eyes, see that no jealousy and envy penetrates me. With your peace pipe, create harmony where there is discord. See that no evil befalls me. Fight the battle to destroy those who will harm me. Take revenge on my behalf and destroy the insurrection of the wicked. This prayer I ask not just for myself but for all of my relations past and present, and for those yet to come, Amen.

[barrel-crow-n]

Kaz: If you bite it and you die, it’s poisonous. If it bites you and you die, it’s venomous.

Jesper: What if it bites me and it dies!?

Nina: Then you’re poisonous. Saints, Jesper, learn to listen.

Wylan: What if it bites itself and I die?

Inej: That’s voodoo.

Matthias: What if it bites me and someone else dies?

Wylan: That’s correlation, not causation.

Nina: What if we bite each other, and neither of us die?

Jesper: That’s kinky.

Kaz: Oh my God.

[mistydeyes]

perfumes i think the 141 boys enjoy

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summary: Scent is one of the most powerful senses, so what kind of fragrance do the 141 boys + Alejandro like on their significant other?

pairing: 141 x Reader

warnings: none

a/n - i also work for a perfume company so I've had a couple of ideas about what scents the boys like :)

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price - loves expensive, smokey scents on anyone. imagine the scents of a fresh cigar-that's what price wants in a fragrance. notes like pepper, leather, tobacco, cedar wood, and iris will make him crumble.

masculine

oud wood - tom ford notes: oud wood, sandalwood, chinese pepper

osmanthe kodoshan - maison crivelli notes: leather, tobacco, sichuan pepper, apricot, peach

functional fragrance - the nue co. notes: cardamom, iris, palo santo, cilantro

unisex

hinoki fantôme - boy smells notes: tobacco leaves, oak moss, and smoked leather

jazz club - maison marigela notes: pink pepper, rum, tobacco

lumière d’iris - veronique gabai notes: rose, iris, cedarwood, amber

feminine

baccarat rouge 540 - maison francis kurkdjia notes: jasmine, ambergris, saffron, cedar wood

cuir béluga - guerlain notes: leather, powder, vanilla

platinum 22 - floris london notes: rose, violet leaf, blackcurrant, oat, black tea

soap - woodsy, floral scents are soap's surprising pick. it brings back memories of the scottish countryside, adventuring in the woods and smelling the fresh flowers his mam had. notice notes of herbs (sage, rosemary, mint), lavender, and violet.

masculine

sauvage - dior notes: pepper, amberwood, bergamot, powder

h24 - hermès notes: clary sage, narcissus, rosewood

new york wall street - bond no.9 notes: sea kale, cucumber, lavender, ambergris, vetiver

unisex

voodoo chile - dries van noten notes: rosemary, patchouli, hemp

libre - yves saint laurent notes: lavender, musk

dirty grass - heretic notes: black pepper, lemon, hemp, violet

feminine

melancholy thistle - jo malone london notes: thistle, english ivy, cool wood

portrait of a lady - frédéric malle notes: frankincense, black currant, raspberry, patchouli

la tulipe - byredo notes: tulips, cyclamen, fressia, rhubarb

gaz - FLORAL CITRUS will make this man fall in love with you. it reminds him of a warm summer day sitting in the grass and smelling flowers. look for summery fragrances with notes of citrus, lemon, sage, and fresh herbs.

masculine

bleu de chanel - chanel notes: citrus, labdanum, sandalwood, cedar

polo black - ralph lauren notes: iced mango, lemon, tangerine, sandalwood, sage, patchouli

l'homme - yves saint laurent notes: bergamot, ginger, cedar wood, vetiver

unisex

cactus garden - louis vuitton notes: maté, bergamot, lemongrass

velvet cypress - dolce & gabbana notes: pine, lemon zest, bergamot, clary sage

eau de campagne - sisley notes: grass, citrus, herbs, jasmine, lily of the valley

feminine

brazilian crush cheirosa 62 - sol de janeiro notes: pistachio, almond, sandalwood, heliotrope, jasmine

her blossom - burberry notes: mandarin, plum blossom, sandalwood

flora gorgeous jasmine - gucci notes: mandarin, jasmine, magnolia, sandalwood

ghost - likes a light, musky scent! he loves when a scent adds to a person's natural smell (he hates sugary, gourmand scents). ingredients like musk, ambrox, pepper, sandalwood catch his eye as he pictures fresh sheets and a rainfall in a forest.

masculine

geranium pour monsieur - frédéric malle notes: mint, aniseed, sandalwood, geranium, frankincense

atlantis - blu atlas notes: orris, oak moss, violet, musk, ambrette seed

gentleman - givenchy notes: pear, lavender, patchouli

unisex

glossier you - glossier notes: pink pepper, iris, ambrette seeds, ambrox

not a perfume - juliette has a gun notes: ambergris

santal 33 - le labo notes: violet cardamom, cedar wood, iris, ambrox

feminine

missing person - phlur notes: musk, bergamot, jasmine, neroli, sandalwood

golden nectar - nest notes: florals, orchid, amber, musk

apollonia - xerjoff notes: white floral, orris butter, white musk

extra! alejandro - if ghost likes it simple and light, then alejandro is the exact opposite. he loves when he can smell someone's fragrance across the room. focus on bold fragrances with spicy notes of nutmeg, myrrh, and rum that is mixed with the gourmand of vanilla, almond, and tonka bean.

masculine

the last day of summer - gucci notes: cedarwood, cypress, nutmeg, patchouli, vetiver

bibliothèque - byredo notes: peach, peony, violet, leather, patchouli, vanilla

london myrrh & tonka - jo malone notes: almond, vanilla, myrrh, lavender, honey

unisex

tobacco vanille - tom ford notes: tonka bean, vanilla. cacao

dark rum - malin + goetz notes: anise, plum, leather, rum, patchouli, amber

tao dao - diptyque notes: sandalwood, cedar, cypress, myrte

feminine

lost cherry - tom ford notes: black cherry, tonka bean, almond

brazil aroma - costa notes: white jungle flora, orange oil, pink pepper, bourbon, vetiver, patchouli

babylon - penhaligon's notes: saffron, nutmeg, coriander, cedar wood, vanilla, cypriol

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[3rdeyeblaque]

On September 10th we venerate Elevated Ancestor, Voodoo Queen of Louisiana, & Saint, Marie Catherine Laveau on her 222nd birthday 🎉

[for our Hoodoos of the Vodou Pantheon]

Marie Catherine Laveau was a dedicated Hoodoo, healer, herbalist, & midwife who, "traveled the streets [of New Orleans] like she owned them", as the most infamous Voodoo Queen of New Orleans.

Marie C. Laveau I was born a "Free Mulatto" in today's French Quarter in what was then, New France); to a mother & grandmother who were both born into slavery & later freed via freedom papers. It is believed that she grew up in the St. Ann Street cottage of her maternal grandmother.

She married Jacques Santiago-Paris, a "Quadroon" "Free Man of Color", who fled as a refugee from Saint-Domingue, Haiti from the Haitian Revolution in the former French colony . After his passing, she became known as "The Widow Paris". She then worked as a hairdresser catering to White families & later entered a domestic partnership with a French nobleman his death. She excelled at obtaining inside information on her wealthy patrons by instilling fear in their servants whom she either paid or cured of mysterious ailments. Although she never abandoned her Catholic roots, she became increasingly interested in her mother’s African traditional beliefs. The Widow Paris learned her craft from a ‘Voodoo doctor’ known variously as Doctor John or John Bayou.

Marie C. Laveau I is said to have intiated into Voodoo career sometime in the 1820s. She's believed to be descended from a long line of Voodoo Priestesses, all bearing her same name. She was also a lifelong devout Catholic. It didn’t take long before Marie C. Laveau I dominated New Orleans Voodoo culture & society before claiming title of Queen. She was the 3rd Voodoo Queen of NOLA - after Queen Sanité Dédé & Queen Marie Salopé. During her decades tenure, she was the premier beacon of hope and service to customers seeking private consultations - to aid in matters such as family disputes, health, finances, etc, created/sold gris gris, perforemed exorcisms. While her daughter Marie II was known for her more theatrical displays of public events, Marie C. Laveau I was less flamboyant in her persona. She conducted her work in 3 primary locations throughout the city: her home on St. Ann Street, Congo Square, & at Lake Pontchartrain. Despite one account of a challenge to her authority in 1850, Marie C. Laveau I maintained her leadership & influence.

The Queen died peacefully in her sleep in her ole cottage home on St. Ann Street. Her funeral was conducted according to the rite of the Catholic Church & in the absence of any Voodoo rites. To her Voodoo followers, she's venerated as a Folk Saint. In² addition to her Priesthood in Voodoo and title of Queen, she is also remembered for her community activism; visiting prisoners, providing lessons to women of the community, & doing ritual work for those in need.

She is generally believed to have been buried in plot 347, the Glapion family crypt in Saint Louis Cemetery No. 1, New Orleans. As of March 1st, 2015, there is no longer public access to St. Louis Cemetery No. 1. Entry with a tour guide is required due to continued vandalism & tomb raiding.

We pour libations & give her💐 today as we celebrate her for her love for & service to the people, through poverty, misfortune, bondage, & beyond.

Offering suggestions: flowers + libations at her grave, catholic hymns, holy water, gold rings/bracelets, money

‼️Note: offering suggestions are just that & strictly for veneration purposes only. Never attempt to conjure up any spirit or entity without proper divination/Mediumship counsel.‼️

[neworleansvoudou]

Who's Who in Hoodoo History: High John the Conqueror

John the Conqueror is known in Hoodoo folklore as a trickster spirit, always making a way out of no way at all, “hitting a straight lick with a crooked stick. Winning the jackpot with no other stake than a laugh” (Hurston 1943, 452). Slaves saw him as emerging from a whisper, finding laughter in sorrow, irony in tragedy, and triumph in despair. He was the bringer of hope, “the source and soul of our laughter and song.” He provided much-needed comedic relief in everyday life. He was a resistance figure whose weapons were laughter, cunning, and trickery.

They say that John was a prince who came from Africa, walking on the winds that filled the sails of ships through the Middle Passage. There are no photographs or drawings of the actual John the Conqueror. However, some say he resembled big John Henry, the “steel-driving man” of African American folklore. Or maybe he was “a little, hammered down, low-built man like the Devil’s doll-baby” (Hurston 1943, 452). Some say you can’t draw a spirit, so quit trying. Others say no one ever talked about what he looked like because it wasn’t necessary. White people never knew of his existence, which was by design; they weren’t supposed to know about him. He was the slaves’ biggest advocate on the downlow, and they lived for the tales of his putting one over on ole Massa.

They say that the spirit of John the Conqueror was around in the form of Brer Rabbit before John came on the scene. That wily mammal had already made the rounds on the plantations for a year and a day by the time John came along. Because he was in the form of an entertaining bunny, his tales spread far and wide. In reality, Brer Rabbit and John the Conqueror are two different spirits, but their functions are similar. Both are tricksters; both gain the edge through cunning, audacity, and intelligence. Both are empowering resistance figures.

John the Conqueror’s renown comes from the abundance of folktales describing his exploits. The most significant tales involve his role in procuring freedom through comedic relief and trickery. Freedom was of primary concern to John, and it governed near about all of his decisions. But he wasn’t the same kind of resistance figure as San Malo, Bras Coupe, or Annie Christmas. He was good at playing dumb when he needed to, and he excelled at the art of gaslighting. He played ole Massa like a fiddle.

He could make you think yellow was green and green was yellow. He would make you believe that what he did was your doing, and he was a master at leaving ole Massa standing in his place, mouth agape. He was just that cunning.

John the Conqueror was most popular during slavery days because he served an express purpose. People needed the kind of resilience and inspiration he could bring. They needed the hope he dispensed. They needed a vision for the future, one that involved their complete liberation. And when he went back to Africa, they say he left his spirit right here in the United States in the root of a special flower, a variety of morning glory bearing purple flowers. In this way, John the Conqueror never actually left. Whenever anyone needs him, they can access him by communing with the root bearing his namesake.

*Excerpt from Witch Queens Voodoo Spirits and Hoodoo Saints: A Guide to Magickal New Orleans.

Learn more about the OGs of Hoodoo: https://www.crossroadsuniversity.com/courses/who-s-who-in-hoodoo-history

[greenandsorrow]

The fox (2): Found something real that's out of touch.

Alastor x fem!fox!reader

stay tuned for the final chapter

"To you I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world."

~Le petit prince, Antoine de Saint-Exupery

The girl woke up with a start. Her mother was by her side. The monotone sound of the machines attached to her body could be heard. She had died but they had brought her back.

In the few minutes it had taken to revive her, her soul had wandered all the way to Hell- due to how there hadn't been any guidance from Heaven. Her death hadn't been meant to happen. Not yet.

Time flew differently in the afterlife, since she had spent a good fifteen days at the hotel, but as mentioned, only a couple of minutes at the hospital.

The girl lived. She left the hospital, but she kept her promise to Alastor. She never forgot about him. While he was in Hell, thinking she was in Heaven, she was alive, roaming Earth.

She searched a plethora of archives at Louisiana's library and she tried to gather as much information as possible from her grandma about Alastor the radio host.

A serial killer that would hide his victims' bodies on deer haunting ground. He had been killed while mistaken for one. Hence his appearance in the afterlife. He was also found to be linked to voodoo practices- for hurtful purposes.

He had been a bad man in all his life. He had caused pain to others, but she couldn't just ignore the way he had been there for her during her short stay in the hotel.

Alastor was the one cooking her Jambalaya when she was sad and entertaining her with his charm and wit. That's how she'd always remember him. The smiling, gentledeer with the black cane.

She went as far as visiting Louisiana's old cemetery. Why would she leave flowers on the grave of a killer? Why would she sit and reminisce about one of Hell's most devious sinners? She wasn't the one to give him forgiveness. She didn't even try to justify his vile actions. The flowers were simply her way of saying "thank you, because even though you've done so many wrongs, you did at least one good deed and that was helping me".

The photograph on the grave -placed behind a now broken frame- was fading slowly but surely. The young man that looked back at her had a smooth, tan complexion and bespectacled, smart eyes. The shade of his eyes and hair reminded her of hot coffee in the morning. The quality wasn't great, but then again, coloured pictures weren't as advanced back then.

Alastor's visits to Rosie grew more frequent after his little, fluffy friend vanished. He'd sit for hours with his hellborn bestie, telling her about every single detail of his experience with the young girl.

"I'm surprised you didn't just devour her Hun! I'm sure she'd taste so delicious!"

"Dear Rosie... I have to be honest with you... If there's one person except from my mother that I would never hurt... It is her, the fox."

Both of whom were gone for the foreseeable eternity.

With Rosie refilling his tea cup frequently and asking him additional questions, Alastor couldn't help but think about the fox.

It hadn't been all good times, but now that she was gone, even the not so pleasant memories carried a bittersweet quality to them.

For example, there had been many arguments between them and the girl hadn't been scared to show him her teeth, quite literally.

He found himself thinking of her again as he made his way back to the hotel, after his visit at Cannibal town.

Alastor's memory...

She was being nosy again. Asking too many questions.

"Well yes, I did die in the woods like you... It's peculiar. This is the first time I ever meet someone who died under the same circumstances... not the exact same, but you get my drill?"

The girl had shrugged, but she hadn't been able to suppress her smile at being given attention. Alastor had continued talking, simultaneously warming up his voice for his radio show.

"What if this is too much of a coincidence? What if this is part of some bigger plot..."

"A bigger plot? How so Alastor?"

He liked the way she pronounced his name. She'd say it with caution, like it was something important that should be respected.

Sometimes people get sent in our lives for a reason. Sometimes they teach us a lesson. Sometimes we are the lesson. Sometimes they are reminders. Reminders of things we had forgotten that existed.

"Do you have a tail?"

"What do you expect?"

"Oh please show me!"

As much as he wanted to be intimidating and taken seriously, even if he was an overlord, the fact that his body got changed into a deer was somewhat humiliating. He. Is. Not. Prey.

"Not happening."

He should have shown her, just to see that sparkle in her eyes. Regret.

Charlie was singing. It wasn't like him zoning out, but a few weeks ago the fox had been in that very same room, walking away... frustrated.

Alastor's memory...

"Oh dear..." he had muttered, following after her before swiftly stepping in front of her and slightly raising his arm, blocking her way.

"Now it would be quite rude to simply walk away, would it not?"

"Manners are the last thing occupying my mind after I was thrown in purgatory."

He had let out a chuckle of agreement at her point.

"Sometimes a bit of charm can take you a long way in life... and besides the company of your sweet self would be delightful!"

"Can it take me to Heaven?"

"What about a story sweetheart? It was so brutal when I first spawned here... just thinking about that time makes my tongue tingle with the sweet taste of blood."

"I hate this place."

She had been unhappy all the time he knew her.

In a mockingly sympathetic tone Alastor had tried to distract her.

"Awww... are you really not enjoying your stay here in our beautiful hotel? I'm sure you have met some really interesting individuals."

"I prefer my well deserved place in HEAVEN thank you very much."

All their conversations had always circled back to that exact point.

While she was beginning to grow on him, to her Alastor was still no one. She would chat with him, but he wasn't someone special in her heart. The radio demon hated himself for allowing that bond to bloom, but he hated himself even more because it was one sided. Him being on the losing end.

And there had been another fight that very same day.

"LET ME DOWN"

"Ask nicely."

"I hate you."

Alastor's playful attitude had vanished.

"Hate is a strong feeling. What is there to hate? My looks? My voice? My past?"

"You're a demon. You're... I hate you as much as I hate this place."

"Think again."

Sometimes it was truly infuriating how stubborn she would be.

"Um... I... I don't know. Everything."

"Everything?"

Despite himself, Alastor's tone had gotten slightly bitter.

"Well... this just ruins the mood now. Don't you think it's rather unreasonable to hate someone you've known only for three days? I can tell you're quite childish... but you're not that childish, right young one?"

She had placed a palm on his chest to push him away. She was practically glowing from purity while he was emitting pure darkness.

The radio demon had looked a little surprised when the girl had pushed him away without showing fear. Leaning in, he'd spoken in a whisper while his hot breath had hit her cheek.

"My dear, you shouldn't resist what's happening... Just allow yourself to stay with us at the hotel... As a sinner."

Alastor had decided to corrupt the new resident of the hotel. His taunting words and unsettling change of size hadn't fazed her... The girl had been scared, but still, she had managed to give him a few really sharp scratches. Yet, he hadn't responded to pain at all.

...he would always carry the little scars she left on him. A reminder that she had been there.

The real reason he had wanted her to stay was selfish. It would have done her more harm than good. He didn't like how he had acted like the bigger person.

But when it had happened -the ridiculous scratches- with a threatening voice he had told her...

"You think you're so strong Fox, huh? Because if I wanted to, I could crush you with just a single motion of one of my fingers."

"Then, you'd... you'd have Heaven against you!"

He had bursted into a laugh.

"Oh dear... I can't believe how naive you are! Heaven is not going to do anything to defend an insignificant person such as yourself. They're more worried about themselves and their perfect little world. The ones you look up to are always the first to disappoint you mon petit renard."

He never understood why he had said that to her. He had practically tried to save her from a heartbreaking realization. A realization that had always pained Alastor in his childhood. To know you have to fend for yourself. While he had perfected the art, he wished she didn't have to.

He had forgotten they were fighting.

She was dreaming of him, again. Red hair. Razor blades for teeth. The sound of static filling the air and making her hair frizz.

The girl liked that memory, it was one of her favourites to relive in her sleep.

The fox's memory...

"No, my dear fox, you're not a good soul. In reality you're really just a little hypocrite and have a high opinion of yourself- haha!"

She had been curled up in a ball in her bed. Luscious hair flowing and a light dress covering her small body.

Alastor had walked into the room she was occupying and had sat down next to her. He had spoken in a soft and caring voice.

"You don't have to try and stay holy while you're here in hell... This is a safe place where you can act out your hedonistic desires and not worry about being judged by anyone!"

"Jeez Alastor! I don't have such desires... My only desire right now is a fluffy blanket and some hot chocolate."

Alastor had snapped his fingers... He then had turned into a shadow, slipping away like sand and returning like a chilly breeze... With hot chocolate and a very fluffy blanket he had most definitely stolen from Charlie's bedroom.

Her eyes had widened and she had smiled.

"Oh my gosh..."

He had grinned in response. It wasn't like him acting on impulse, without deeper motives.

"I told you mon renard! This is the best place you could possibly be to try and relax! Here we are free from all the restrictions set on us in Heaven!"

"Thank you Alastor!"

She had never bought a thing he had told her and he knew it. But this act had somehow been calming this... this weird apprehension. The demon had somehow known that his time with her would be limited. She hadn't belonged.

In comparison to him, she was a saint, an angel even.

While she had been drinking her hot chocolate, he had taken the opportunity to really look at her, imprinting her features in his memory, engraving the shine of her fangs and the blush on her cheeks in his brain.

"Now just look at that cute little face of yours!"

"Oh, look as much as you want. I'll be gone soon anyway."

She had said that with such a confidence. He wouldn't have shown her, but she could sense it. He was sad.

Alastor had simply chuckled and then sighed.

"Yes I guess so. But for now just rest... Maybe tomorrow will be your lucky day!"

He gently stroked her hair, until her eyes had closed.

"Sleep well darling~"

That night she had decided he was someone to her and not just anyone.

She never knew, but that same night he had noticed how small she actually was compared to him and had genuinely smiled.

She smiled in her sleep, mimicking the motion he had made... months ago.

...time flies.

The car accident is now years away.

All the parts-> here!

🧡Please do not repost or directly copy my work.

🧡This fic's title is a lyric from 'Not about angels' by Birdy. It's not proof read, so forgive any spelling or grammar errors.

🧡The human Alastor fanart isn't mine. All credits go to the artist.

🧡I am aware this isn't everyone's cup of tea -writing wise or plot wise- but it was a spontaneous idea of mine I wanted to try and make work.

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[aziraphales-library]

hello lovely people!

i was wondering if there were any historical fics that specifically look at queer history? it could be just aziraphale or just crowley, them together or not together. it could be as far back as sappho and as recent as legalisation of gay marriage.

thank you!

Hi! We have #queer history, #pride parade, and #queer guardian angel aziraphale tags on which you will find fics of interest. Here are more to add to the queer history collection...

An Angel and a Demon Walk Into a Bar- and there is No Punchline Because this is the 80s and Everyone is Sad, Gay and Repressed by DontOffendTheBees (M)

“So you’re not here to dance.” Crowley ducks his head, his long and impressively voluminous hair tumbling about his face as he nudges his aviators down his nose, peering at Aziraphale with those cunning yellow eyes over the top of them. He smirks like the wily old serpent he is, savouring the next words he speaks. “Now, what else could possibly lure a confirmed bachelor such as yourself to an establishment like this?” In which Aziraphale gravitates to the comfort of a queer space, and winds up in need of further comforting.

and at least in this lifetime (we're sticking together) by vivelegalite (T)

[GOD, NARRATING] People tend to be torn as to which side could be credited with legalisation of gay marriage across all of the United States of America. Most people consider it an act of Good, which it is of course, and attribute it to Heaven. Some, a much less pleasant lot, argue it to be the work of Hell. They tend to back their claims up with improperly translated lines from a book the Almighty had never actually written or even really bothered to read through — I tend to outsource that kind of work — and speak of God’s will and whatnot. Both groups are, however, mistaken. The legalisation of gay marriage across all of the United States of America was brought about not by Heaven, not by Hell, but by a tragically smitten demon with a rather high alcohol concentration and a plan.

Eziraphael's Gifts: A History of Queer Faith and Longing, by Natasha Marie Johnson (Beacon Press, 2019). by actualbat (G)

"If Eziraphael has come to be known--in today's language--as the 'guardian angel of sad queers,' then it makes sense for him to have shown up more regularly in the past once that became a recognizable historical category." Natasha is really glad that she's given this talk enough times to be able to do it on autopilot, because those two funny-looking men in the back just made the most absurdly astonished faces. (Or: Not all historians ignore gay subtext, and not all immortal celestial beings have their shit together. Also, voodoo.)

it's the light (it's the obstacle that casts it) by bibliocratic (T)

It's like having a curtain pulled back on something he wasn't expecting to see. A surprise punch-and-judy at an up-scale restaurant, a lobster thermidor when he's ordered an ale. Crowley's gleefully trying to wrap his head around the fact that Aziraphale is speaking Polari. Because of course he is. Or: The Patron Saint of London's LGBT Community is real, and he lives in Soho.

Under the Blazing Sun, Thy Footsteps Track by Elfgrandfather (T)

Aziraphale and Crowley keep finding themselves mixed up with a rather queer lot, and eventually have to contend with what it might mean, both about their own identities and their relationship to each other.

Surpassing All the Stars by KannaOphelia (M)

There was a faint tracing of scales along the woman's cheekbones, tracing down her thin arms and lean thighs. The nipples on her pale, almost flat breasts were dark as night. Fiery red curls fell over dagger-sharp shoulders sprayed gently with more black scales, and the golden eyes were wide and snake-like. The woman was beautiful, but hardly human. "Crawly," the woman said with disgust. "Was that the best you could do, angel?" "I said I didn't have much imagination." Aziraphale's lips were heavy, and she was almost sure she wasn't forming the words properly. There was some kind of spell over her, holding her almost immobile. The venom must have been paralytic. If she had been human, she supposed she would have been dead. Her corporation didn't like it much either. "What name would you prefer I use for you?" The stranger tipped her head on one side, considering. "Crowley?" Aziraphale almost laughed. The whole situation was simply too irritating. If she was to die now, at the hands of some local deity, the paperwork hardly bore thinking about. And her precious work on Sappho's poetry, gone. "Crowley, then. You're a nymph of some kind, I take it?"

- Mod D