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deanbrainrotwritings · 4 months

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— DEMONOLOGY AND HEARTACHE

SUMMARY : dean is a devout catholic and has never known a life outside the church, all his resolve is broken by the temptation of a hellish seductress

PAIRING : priest!dean winchester x demon!reader (f.)

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS : explicit(18+), smut, p in v, oral (m. receiving), corruption kink, praise kink, priest au, priest kink, sub/dom dynamics, sub!dean, defiling holy stuff

WORD COUNT : 4.9k

A/N : title from an atreyu song. dean’s not undercover, just pure corruption. I’m going to hell. my sister said his seed is holy, lmaoo. this one fills my “Go to hell!”/“Where do you think I came from?” square for my @jacklesversebingo card. enjoy Dean’s holy seed (and I’m sorry if y’all are religious, I used to be religious, too, to make it worse) XX

Green eyes illuminated by moonlight. They flit across the dark and empty space of the nave casually. There’s a draught that makes him shudder, but he remains unphased. He makes sure the lights are off, double checks that the doors and windows are closed, and continues onward to his room to rest for the night.

He’s still in his vestments, blending in with the darkness. He only becomes darker in the shadows of the hallways, making his way to the staircase leading to his room. The wooden stairs creak beneath his formal shoes, olden oak that’s more silent in the day, thunders in the silent dark.

A crucifix greets him when he’s at the top of the staircase and he makes the sign of the cross automatically, but slowly, with reverence. Moonlight kisses his delicate features; green eyes twinkle like a billion stars, gold lashes like the lustre of the sun’s reflection on the moon’s surface, freckles show clearly now beneath the exposing light.

His splendour is unmatched even inside the grand cathedral.

He makes his way blindly to his bedroom and wipes a hand over his stubble, scratching lightly at his jaw, thoughtfully planning out his next day. He gets to his room and begins to toe off his shoes as he pushes the door open all the way.

He expects moonlight to strike his face, but it’s quiet and dark. He can smell firewood and something foul, unfamiliar. He thinks nothing of it, he can feel the breeze pushing between his curtains, and assumes it’s something outside. He turns around to shut the door and holds the wall for balance as he pulls his shoes off all the way.

“Father,” he hears a soft voice, unknown to him. He turns quickly, half-scared, half-confused: how did someone get up here and why is there a woman in my room? were the first questions asked in his mind. The dim light on his bedside table lights up his room and reveals a nun in her nightgown sitting on his bed.

He recognises her now and relaxed, only slightly. She’s new and arrived two weeks ago. Sister… something or another; it’s been a busy couple of weeks.

She watches him curiously, her brows furrow and her eyes mysterious. She leans back casually on her arms, too relaxed for his comfort. The top of her nightgown undone, two strings hang loosely over her breasts. A chill teases his spine and rides up to the top of his head, prickling the freckled skin of his body. He doesn’t move.

“What are you doing here?” He asks quietly, offering his hand to her to get her to stand from his bed. She stares at it indifferently. “You should be in your quarters,” he adds, reaching out for her arm instead.

“I’ve been thinking about what I confessed to you yesterday, Father,” she murmurs, shaking her arm out of his hand. He sighs tiredly, but smiles kindly at her anyway. He can’t remember her confession, everyone confesses multiple times about multiple things, and goes to him—searching for repentance.

“You’re forgiven, you need to move forward,” he reassures her.

“I don’t think I can,” she replies almost instantly. He raises a brow, but lets her continue. “Does that… make me a bad person?” She asks, concern and guilt laces her voice.

“No, it makes you human.” He purses his lips and takes her soft hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You should sleep, we can talk tomorrow,” he tries again, loosening his grip on her cool hand, but she keeps holding onto it.

He narrows his eyes, his jaw clenches when she lifts her cotton gown. He raises a brow when she’s standing up on her knees, and a crease forms between his eyebrows. Her other hand curls around the back of his neck and he opens his mouth to question her, moving back slightly. Instead, her grip becomes firm and her warm lips press against his lips and he stiffens, confused.

He can feel her hand around his wrist moving and her gown ruffles. He feels her warmth beneath his fingers, wetness against his fingertips, that makes him gasp and pull away. He snatches his hand away from between her legs and sees that she’s smiling knowingly.

“What are you doing?” He asks in disbelief, but his heart is pounding, sending blood to his cock. “You need to leave,” he clears his throat. Heat, like hellfire, washes over his body, and turns away to hide himself when his face flushes and his cock twitches.

“Come on, Father,” she murmurs provocatively. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply before turning to face her with a glare. “I know what you’ve been dreaming of,” she laughs mischievously, sitting back on her legs. She pulls down the top of her nightgown, freeing her breast to play with her nipple. Her other hand moves down between her legs, she opens herself by parting her legs, and starts to tease her wet slit while he watches.

“Go to hell!” He shouts at her, looking away and trying to get out of his room. He reaches the doorknob and gets the door open only for it to slam shut.

“Where do you think I came from?” She asks darkly, and his stomach sinks. He shakes the doorknob wildly and pulls as hard as he can, but it doesn’t budge. He feels her hand grab the back of his shirt and she flings him across the room so he lands on the bed. He scrambles up on it and tries to get away when her eyes flash completely black. “You’re getting rusty, Dean, ignoring all those omens,” she shakes her head and tsks, climbing up on the bed with him.

He thinks about what she says, he never thought much about the mutilations because of the wolves that roam freely, or the electrical storms because of the cold and the usage of heaters, or the crop failures due to the weather. He shouldn’t have brushed it off, but he hadn’t encountered demonic activity in years. This whole time, it was circling him and he didn’t even notice.

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus,” he starts to whisper, grabbing the rosary from around his neck. “Omnis satanica potestas, omnis incur-” She grabbed the rosary from him roughly, quieting the exorcism from continuing, and stared at it with a wicked smile before pulling it harshly.

“That won’t work on me, baby.” The beads fell over his body when the rosary snapped. Wooden beads and black beads bounce on his bed, then scatter loudly onto the floor, rolling and sliding across wood until they stop on their own or hit a wall.

“You… you were making me dream all those things,” he accuses breathlessly. She nods wordlessly, stepping in between his parted legs with her hands on his bent knees. She bites her lip, stares lustfully at the black attire he wears. A holy man.

“I know… you liked it,” she whispers, causing him to swallow nervously. “I watched you pleasure yourself every time you woke up,” she admits shamelessly, fingers meeting his belt to get it off. He squirmed and grabbed her hand to stop her, but his cock was hard just remembering his hedonistic actions and the lewd dreams that haunted him every night for weeks. “What was it like dreaming of how soft I feel? Do you think your hand feels as good as I do inside? Do you want my mouth like you loved using it in your dreams?” She continues to tease, leaning over him, hands sliding up the front of his body.

He was warm and taut beneath her hands. His body hums with pleasure, he aches to touch her despite knowing it was wrong. He craves to feel her body beneath his own, wrapped around him so tightly. He hates himself for it, but it’s all his mind could think of, especially when he could feel her warm breath over his tingly lips.

“What do you want from me?” He asks quietly, staring deeply into her black eyes. She blinks and they return to normal eyes again, a sweet smile growing on her face. It could’ve fooled him, that warmth that sparkled inside—it must actually be hellfire.

“I want you to beg me to fuck you, I want you to need it really bad,” she whispered hotly, tracing the buttons on his shirt. He swallowed anxiously, but he couldn’t resist the temptation of her pink lips and soft skin, supple breasts in plain sight, smooth thighs pressed against his. His whole body longed for the feel of her lips, her hands, for everything of hers to be on him.

“I… I can’t do that,” he choked out. He grabs her hands and moves them away from his body then scoots up on his bed to put some distance between them.

“You can,” she encourages him with a wicked smile, crawling up to him. “You will,” she promises, reaching between his legs for his belt.

He squirms, weakly attempting to push her away because that’s what his instincts told him to do. She’s a demon, he’s a priest. She is unholy and he’s supposed to be an intermediary for God, Jesus, the angels, the Holy Spirit, and everything else that’s good. He can’t just lay with a woman, especially when she comes directly from hell.

She didn’t make a single move. She just waited for him and her hair fell prettily over her shoulder when she tilted her head at him expectantly. Her skin looked smooth and her lips were pink and they looked soft. He could easily remember what they looked like around his cock in his dreams. He didn’t want to give in to her, he spent years in the church, he has every scripture memorised, and he’s helped hundreds of people without expecting so much as a thanks.

But he wanted to really feel what he’d felt in his dreams for two weeks. He craved it like he’d never craved sex before—or anything else for that matter. Here, in a holy place was a very sexy woman in his bed, a woman who crawled her way out of hell and became fixated on him. For weeks, she tormented him, planted herself in his dreams and gave him glimpses of her in real life as a nun covered from head to toe.

Now, she sat between his legs, with nothing underneath her sleeping gown. The pure white dress hid the true darkness of her soul. He rubbed his fingers together, though they were dry, his slacks tightened just remembering the feel of her wet folds against his fingertips. He’d never been this hard and desperate before, it usually went away quickly when the guilt of his libidinous thoughts consumed him.

He’d never done anything bad before, never strayed from his teachings or from the rules. Here she was, tempting him to take a bite of her, tempting him to give himself to her for her pleasure, for his pleasure. Demon or not, no one’s ever gone out of their way to get to him, that was a messed up thought, but it turned him on.

“Please,” he chokes out. It shocked him. He stared at her in surprise, but she just looked back at him arrogantly. Slowly, as if waiting for his protest, she tugged his belt and got the leather out of the buckle. He started to breathe heavily, aroused by her gaze and thought of being defiled.

She starts to pull the belt from the loops of his slacks and he willingly lifts his hips when it catches beneath him. He gives in easily when she pops the button out of the slit. He even lets his head fall back into the pillow and rolls his hips upwards when she slowly pulls the zipper down.

She starts to pull his pants down, he can feel the rough scrap of his boxers against his skin when she tries to do it all at once. He doesn’t care anymore, with his thumbs hooked at the sides, he pulls them down with her help. He can feel the cool air kiss his cock, slowly as she exposes him. He moans softly when he’s fully free, he knows there’s precum leaking at the slit, it feels colder.

He feels like a wanton whore and he’s barely made a sound. He can hear the delicate fabric of his clothes hit the floor, it makes him feel more excited.

“Wow, you really are blessed,” she murmurs, her warm breath blowing over his cock. He fists the sheets, feels it twitch instantly, and opens his eyes to stare at her. “It’s just as pretty as the rest of you,” she praises, keeping eye contact with him. He bites his lip and he’s about to respond with a ‘shut up’ when she lets a string of her saliva drip onto his tip.

The words catch in his throat. She leans forward, her soft hair falls over her face, and her tongue makes contact with the warm head of his cock. He doesn’t know what to do with himself when she hums at the taste of him. His body stiffens and it feels even better than he dreamed. When he lets his head fall back into the pillow, he catches a glimpse of the crucifix over his bed. She turned it upside down.

“Father,” she whispers, “don’t look away from me.” He looks back at her, her soft hands manoeuvre his body so he has his knees bent upwards again. He feels exposed, vulnerable, sinful, and dirty.

“Don’t call me that,” he requests softly. He reaches for her jaw to guide her back down onto him. That excites her, he can see her eyes livening. His stomach flutters.

“Dean,” she sneers when she wraps her hand around the base of his cock and starts to twist her hand upwards. He growls lowly, shyly lifts his arm, and puts it over his eyes. “I prefer calling you Father. It makes this way hotter. Don’t you think?” She asks teasingly and then laughs.

“No….” He trailed off, spreading his legs a little wider when she leaned forward to kiss his stomach.

“Call me whatever you want, Father,” she whispers against his skin, trailing her lips downwards as she jerks him off. “Whore, demon, hellspawn… Sister,” she smirks when he whines, then sucks on his hip bone. A red mark blossoms on his skin. “I’m so wet,” she tells him, teasingly flattering her palm over the tip of his dick, “this is the most fun I’ve had in ages.” He watches the little smirk on her face and while he’s curious about what she does in hell, he can feel his impending release.

“Please,” he begs quietly. It makes her stop instead. She puts one hand on the inside of his thigh and spreads him open the way a man would do to a woman and she stares down at him curiously. He wiggles to close his legs but she’s stronger than he is, and keeps him as she has him. She pulls gently at his balls, then pushes, and eventually finds a pace where it starts to feel more intense.

“Jesus Christ,” she murmurs with a chuckle, “you’re so fucking sexy.” He flushes at her words and watches her lean down to suck on his balls. He moans loudly and tangles his hand in her hair, then tugs so she moves upwards. “You’re built like a god, any man would be jealous,” she teases, letting him guide her.

“Do what you did in my dreams,” he suggests, then slid his hand down her shoulder and inside the top of her nightgown. He fondled her breasts and innocently held eye contact with her.

“What did I do?” She asks playfully, placing one small kiss on his leaking cock. He glares at her, but she shrugs like she has no idea what he’s talking about. She continues to tease him instead, bites down on his thigh and sucks until he’s whining.

“Please, suck it,” he begs bashfully, pulling his hand out of the gown. She moves up his body, he’s sure it’s to embarrass him when she stares down at him.

“Suck what?” He groans at her question, lifts both hands to tug frustratedly at his hair. She moves away nonchalantly, slowly begins to lift the white gown upwards, revealing inch by glorious inch of her perfect body. He watches her touch herself with his mouth parted in astonishment, her hands play with her breasts and she teases herself between her legs.

“Suck my cock, please, I want to feel your mouth,” he rushes out quickly. He sits up and takes her waist, dragging her forward until he has his warm mouth on her nipple.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, Dean,” she promises, playing with his hair. She rubs her thighs together and lets him switch from one nipple to the other. He stares up at her the whole time, his eyes shimmering with lust. “I hope this haunts you forever,” she sneers. Giving his hair a sharp tug to move him away forcefully and go down on him. He grunts softly and wraps his hand around his cock, slowly sliding a dry hand up and down.

“That’s my job,” she scolds, slapping his hand away. She settles between his legs, and without warning, she wraps her lips around the tip, sending a sharp electric feeling running up his spine. It’s unbelievable how wet she feels around him, how warm her mouth feels engulfing him inch by inch. His stomach becomes taut with the way she runs her tongue along the bottom vein, sucking when she lifts up slightly, then does it over and over.

Her slowness drives him crazy. She was merciless in his dreams, passionate and focused on making him reach the ultimate pleasure, but now, she’s just torturing him. One of her hands follows her mouth and the other slides up his chest beneath the buttoned black shirt. Her nails scrape his chest gently but her fingers brush teasingly against his nipple. He arches his back and moans loudly, he doesn’t care that the night amplifies his voice and carries his pretty noises quickly down the halls of the holy church.

She slides her hand away from his chest and blindly finds his wrist. He grips the sheets tightly, moaning and groaning. The sounds he made travelled to her clit, it pulsed, her walls clenched around nothing, and she dripped between her legs with a flood of warm heat. He let her place his hand on her head, his fingers tangled in her hair. She’s not going to give him what he wants, she wants him to take what he wants. It’s the ultimate goal for her, to make him loosen up and fuck her mouth.

“Please, I want…” he trails off, both his hands now resting on her head. She drools around his cock and hums when he pushes her down farther. She wants to shove him deeper into her, to take him fast and hard, but it turns her on more to make him needy and desperate. To make him be the one that uses her demonic mouth and hellish body for his pleasure.

She holds onto the back of his thighs and pushes them so they’re almost at his chest. When her nose is pressed against his pelvis and she swallows around him, he holds her there.

“Oh, Jesus,” he moans, his balls draw inwards and his stomach coils. She moans softly and starts to pull off him, only to start sucking and bobbing her head up and down just as he wanted her to. He gets louder somehow and rougher, his grip on her hair is almost painful. The sounds of her throat getting fucked makes him shudder and squirm. He needs to cum so bad. “Yes, don’t stop…” he breathes out.

She hums again, he thought it was a promise that she wouldn’t stop, but when he makes that specific grunt he tends to make when he’s about to cum and when he stiffens and gasps, the warmth of her wet mouth is replaced by the drag of cool air from the room.

He whines and his eyes fly open. He watches her smirk and wipe her mouth with the back of her hand. She still has one hand on his thigh, bending him and keeping him open. He gets shy again, but she doesn’t let him keep his dignity. She gets closer to him and she leans over him to whisper, “you taste so good, Father, I’d imagine it’s all the holy fuckery you consume and spew to others…”

“It turns me on. You make me so wet and needy. Your mouth is mine.” She kisses him softly, even though her words offend him. He glares at her for her blasphemy, but his eyes close when her soft, sweet lips make contact with his. The tenderness of her kiss fools him, takes his mind off her offensive expressions, and keeps him complacent.

Her tongue prods at his lips. Her lewdness makes him eager, she’s thorough, licking across his lips slowly. When he opens his mouth to her, her kiss is hungry. She traces the inside of his mouth with her tongue, like a cartographer, she’s precise and she makes him breathless. She barely pulls away, allowing him to catch his breath temporarily before resuming.

She’s warm when her tongue brushes against his, velvety and sweet. She tastes like wine and fruit, bitter and sweet. The taste of her is divine, opposing her unholy nature and the filthy words she uses to worship him. She pulls away again and straddles his hips. He barely recovers from her kiss when he feels her rub herself over his cock.

He feels his stomach do flips like a dog excited to show his master tricks for a treat. She moans softly and continues rolling her hips. He bends his knees and grasps her thighs painfully, watches between their bodies how she slides her wetness up and down his cock. She begins to unbutton his shirt and carelessly throw the clerical collar behind her when she fully gets the shirt open.

“Wait,” he stops her breathlessly, “is this your body?”

She raises a brow and looks down at herself with a nod. “Had to dig it out of a hole in the forest. I was a witch, a badass one. Those stupid hunters,” she grumbles the last bit under her breath, lifts herself up and positions his tip at her entrance. He raises a brow, too, a smile of amusement grew on his lips as he bit down on it. “Why? Do you like it?” She smirks, but his response is cut off by a moan when she lowers herself on his cock.

She feels even better than he dreamed. He huffs out a breath, he feels sweatier with the shirt and the suit jacket he still wears, but if she doesn’t feel like letting him take it off, he doesn’t mind. She grinds down on him and finds his hands to place one on her breasts and the other between her legs.

“You feel fucking amazing inside me, Dean,” she praises. His stomach lurches, the use of his name turns him on more, and he bucks his hips up. With a little moan she starts to lift herself up, he can feel every inch of her against his cock, the wetness, the warmth. He doesn’t think he’ll last as long as he did in his dreams. He carefully thumbs between her folds and feels for her clit. Her gasp guides him and he gently flicks it until she’s riding him faster. She leans back against his bent legs, arches her back, and he squeezes her breast roughly. “That’s right, you’re doing so good,” she says softly, spreading her legs to open herself more to his adept fingers.

Her words spur him on, the bedsprings start to squeak, the headboard starts to hit the wall, the upside down crucifix rattles on the wall. His senses are high. She feels amazing wrapped around his cock, her breathy moans fuel the fire of his orgasm. She tightens and squeezes around him, walls clamping down and keeping him inside her. He starts to get louder, too, he can’t help it. Groans slip from his lips and he whimpers occasionally, he can feel her react each time, and he doesn’t plan on shutting up.

“You’re so good, so goddamned perfect,” she cries softly, it’s the hottest thing he’s heard or seen. She gets sloppy and desperate, staring down at him covetously. He stares back, even if he wants to shut his eyes and hide away from her gaze. He rubs around her clit faster and watches her fall apart, little by little.

She sounds, looks, and feels even hotter. In his dreams, he understood her intentions and how hot it would be if they had sex, but the reality of it is far more intense and intimate compared to any of his dreams. She filled his mind with fantasies he’d never had before. Having sex in the confessional, on the altar, in the Bishop’s office, and countless locations that were far too holy—in his opinion—being defiled by both of them. He pinches her nipple roughly, she moans and tightens around him. Then, he flicks her clit faster, watches her seize while whining his name.

“Be a good boy and cum for me, Dean. Want you to fill me up,” she says breathlessly. He throbs inside of her and whimpers involuntarily, feeling himself spill inside her as if his body worked according to her commands.

“God,” he moans, bucking his hips upwards. He abandons her clit and her breast, and bruisingly digs his fingers into her thighs. He moans softly, letting the orgasm take over his body and mind. He pulls her down with both hands on her hips and keeps her on his cock shortly, her walls flutter and she inhales sharply. “You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, his eyes half-open.

“Holy fuck,” she gasps, toes curling as she falls apart at the sensation of his cum warming her up. She slowly moves up and down, letting him feel every inch of her pulsing walls along his throbbing cock. Her fingers find her clit to intensify and lengthen her orgasm, finishing what he’d begun. She doesn’t expect his tenderness, but he sits up and tangles his hand into her hair and kisses her deeply.

He mimics how she’d kissed him earlier. His inexperienced tongue traces the roof of her mouth and he brushes his tongue timidly against hers. She deepens the kiss, encourages him to keep doing what he wants to do and tugs his hair. His quiet moans make her horny again and he pulls away. Now that she’s abandoned her clit, she shoves his clothes off his shoulders.

She kisses his neck and his chest. His mind starts to drift now that he’s basking in the afterglow, her lips ghost downward and she lightly touches his nipple with the tip of her tongue. He stiffens and focuses on her again. She moves off his softened cock which is coated in a mixture of their release. She chuckles and then beholds him in his entirety.

He glows and he’s flushed, pink and shiny with sweat. His cock rests on his thighs and he has a mark on his hip from her lips. His lips are swollen, almost red from biting them, coated in saliva—hers and his. His hair is a mess, sexy and soft. He looks guilty now, but she moves forward and looks him in the eyes when she licks the cum off his sensitive cock.

“Don’t worry, Father,” she murmurs before sucking gently on the tip. He gasps and clutches her hair, pulling her off him forcibly. “Even for this… they’ll forgive you, Dean,” she whispers darkly. She gets off the bed and he watches her walk to the small altar he has. She steals a white cloth then walks around his room curiously. She stops in front of a photograph of Jesus and she opens her legs to clean herself.

His eyes widen as he watches her, “hey, come here.” He takes her attention away successfully and watches her drop her leg to walk towards him. “Why are you interested in me?” Is the first question that comes to mind as he panics. “Will you… be less interested in me if I sin more, like we did tonight?” He has the feeling part of her interest in him is simply the fact that he is the weakest, the most susceptible to sin, lust, and making mistakes.

“No… because you’re not going to stray from your beliefs,” she reassures him. “You actually believe, because of your father. Stay the way you are, Dean. You’re going to repent and you’ll mean it, but when you’re with me… you’ll sin again and I’ll defile you, over and over,” she smiles down at him and then climbs onto his bed again, she settles behind him, leaning against the headboard and the wall.

“Until when?” He asks, turning around to look at her.

“I don’t know,” she shrugs, then her eyes flicker down to her body. She parts her folds with two fingers. “Taste me,” she tells him. He tears his eyes from her face to look between her legs. His mouth waters and he slowly gets down into his stomach and stares back up at her. He gently prods her clit with his tongue, her other hand moves into his hair while his tongue slides between her two fingers. “Don’t you worry about the when right now… you and I will have our fun.”

➥ god, if you are above

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ashfae · 10 months

Note

Er yes. You seem to have good taste in GO fics. Got anymore faves I can read when I should be working or paying attention to my child? 😝

I'm really flattered you asked! And I also have 50 pages of fics bookmarked and no idea where to begin aaahhhh! So I'll just, errr, lob a bunch onto here: Obviously there's the trifecta of GO fic brilliance, Slow Show, Pray For Us Icarus, and Demonology and the Tri-Phasic Model of Trauma: An Integrative Approach. Everyone knows them, you don't need me to babble.

Other faves in no particular order and of all types because if I try to be organized about this I'll spend months at it and never post it:

Be As You've Always Been - by gyzym

It Was Always You - by mltefry

Truth or Dare - by @kanna-ophelia (also Stay) What God Hath Wrought - by @saretton

What We Make Of It (Shotgun Wedding) - by @charlottemadison42 (this fic made me a better parent, I'm not kidding) (see also Or Be Nice because choosing between them would leave me screaming for weeks)

In the Pocket of the Universe - by @indieninja92

Choose Your Faces Wisely - by @featherquillpen (this fic changed my life in ways I find it very difficult to express)

Dark Roast Espresso at the Purgatory Cafe - by @copperplatebeech

Thieves of Mercy - by @amuseoffyre

Oh Maker - by @voluptatiscausa

Lunacy - by @snae-b

a lighthouse, burning - by @books-and-omens

The Book of Ruth - by @racketghost (the whole Strange Moons series but for me especially this one)

Scales From the Eyes - by @yoites-good-omens-blog

Love in the Days of an Ill-Timed Plague - by @scrapbramble

Of Boxes, Boas, and Bastards - by @hkblack

Saltwater - by @heycaricari

Demon and Angel Professors - by ghostinthehouse (this looks long and intimidating but chapters are very short and entirely worth it)

oh god I'll stop there or I never will even though I've left out SO MANY of my favourites ahhhhhh /smashes post button

#good omens fanfic recs

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igotanidea · 5 months

Text

Dating Sam Winchester headcanons.

Requested: I was wondering if you could write something supernatural with Sam Winchester, what kind of boyfriend would Sam be? Thank you anon, made that as expanded headcanons starting from meeting and going further in the relationship.

A little NSFW in point 16.

***

1.Bookshops dates

I mean come on, all things considered I am pretty sure you would meet him in the library rather than any place else. And even if you weren’t actually reaching for mythological monsters encyclopaedia or the yearbook of the city from 1456, you were bound to meet at the counter. It wasn’t that big bookshop after all and Sam, with his tall, muscular silhouette was definitely filling most of the space, forcing you to sneak under his arm to get what you were aiming for. Not that you complained, cause he does smell good.

2. Soul longing – as silly as that may sound. Ok listen up. He had women, that’s for sure. But one night stands is only good for so long. And unlike Dean he needed stability from the beginning. Sam is not a player nor a playboy. And as for you? You’re not just gonna jump into the bed of a very handsome, tall and broad shouldered man you met briefly while buying a book, right?

Even if you can imagine so many things he could do with those hands….

Even if you can tell just by looking at him that he’s got enough experience and skills to keep you up all night and –

“Miss? Miss are you all right?”

Damn, seem like you just spaced out in front of the guy who’s been currently eyeing you with those deep eyes piercing right into your soul.

Impossible to forget and even more impossible to let go.

3. Cliché scenario – you actually became a part of team free will after getting into a demon related accident serving the part of a lady in distress perfectly. Got hurt so bad the boys Sam felt guilty enough to look for you for a couple weeks while getting too attached.

4. Obviously wanting to keep you out of the family business. Too bad he got himself a persistent badass, who refused to sit cases out. You may not be a hunter, but you’re a girl. And who’s better than a woman when it comes to making scenes and getting man to mansplain to the poor, innocent soul that knows nothing? The first time you faked cried he fell for it all the way and never questioned your skills again.

5. Probably making you get an anti-possession tattoo. Just for safety, of course. And holding your hand all time while getting it done, caressing your palm in that special reassuring way. And then kissing it better after, regardless of the place it was inked on.

6. Funny thing he was hesitant to put a tag on your relationship. At first. Can’t blame him given all that happened to his mother and Jess. But his emotional side finally took over and he blurted something in the middle of an argument.

“You’re staying here tonight.”

“The hell I am, Sam.”

“I’m not asking.”

‘You’re not my boss.”

“Well I am your boyfriend!”

“Did you just-? Sam? Sam, did you just - ?”

You never got to finish that sentence. And just that one time you stayed behind.

Behind being on the backseat, no further.

7. Bantering over silly stuff while making Dean crazy, cause since you two got together there’s no one to bring him pie.

8. Knowledge duels – as long as you pick the theme, cause no way you’re going against him in history or demonology. It is however possible to beat him in popculture or modern cinematography.

“How am I supposed to know all those –“

“Educate yourself Sammy.”

“Oh I will educate you on something –“

9. Merciless teasing from Dean about stuff that should not ever be his business.

“Hey, whose underwear is that?”

“Brought you two some protection.”

“Hey maybe we can get a threesome?”

“Is that a hickey on your neck Y/N? God, girl, you are loud.”

(but we all know that’s the way Dean’s inner soft side is showing)

10. Doing research while laying head on his chest, tracing patterns on his skin. (making him distracted and locked up in another room until you start to behave.)

11. Doing research in the various libraries. You have no idea but he raises his gaze from the book way too often to actually comprehend any of the text. The way you are frowning, scrunching your nose and the way your eyes shine every time you come upon a clue or a helpful fact seem to be more interesting.

12. Fights – oh, damn, it was bound to happen right?

Arguing with Sam is impossible. He always keeps his cool, not letting the blood boil no matter how many needles you gives him. Sometimes it feels like he’s wearing that stupid armour turning into stone just to infuriate you.

But not for long, cause Sammy can’t stand to see you hurt or broken. That’s not him. It doesn’t matter if you started the fight (you’re being reckless, you’re gonna get killed, you need some rest) or he was the part to initiate it (you’re not the hunter, I know better, I’ll handle it) he’ll be all up for communication. Talking through.

Being a Winchester comes with toughness and roughness sometimes, but Sam doesn’t deny having feelings he want to work on. With you.

It’s not a perfect relationship but you’re patching it up with all the best and most resistant fabric.

13. Subtle hand holding while driving on a hunt. You may be in the backseat while both brothers take the front ones, but who cares. The blank between the driver and shotgun is for something, right? And who cares about the gearbox?

14. Forehead kisses and cuddling – you have actually seen Sam right? If that’s not a giant teddy bear than I don’t know who is. Definition of safety and warmth. Just imagine nuzzling into him with those strong arms around you keeping you safe from any demon, angel, witch, wendigo, shapeshifter or whatever else monster might come for you.

15. Steamy make out session in the impala just to get some privacy. Honestly I believe at some point this would be used as a threat for alone time.

"Get out Dean.”

“ Mmm. Nope. Not happening. I got stuff to do here.”

“I said get out.”

“Make me.”

“Well I think you should go and check on your car before I take care of the backseat.”

Wide eyes, rushing out and not getting back for hours.

Mission completed.

16. Getting intimate with Sam is indescribable. You don’t even need words and yet he seems to understand everything your body tries to convey. Soft, slow, sensual and tender love making while looking into your eyes, refusing to let your gaze drop? Tracing your body and kissing all over your soft skin? Making you feel fragile, small and delicate no matter your size?

All done.

I see Sam as a soft dom. He could break your boundaries easily and probably would, but never to the point of hurting you.

Rough play, BDSM, kinks, making love on any flat surface possible? Not exactly his style.

Stretching you out, wrapping your legs around his waist, pressing you into the mattress, marking you? Absolutely.

He’s fine with pleasuring you, getting to know what turns you on (hitting and finding all the sensitive spots that makes you mewl and rake nails down his body), never failing to make you see stars.

He may not be talking too much and not use a lot of dirty talk, but hey, a few thrusts, a few flicks of his tongue, his muscles flexing under your fingersand the feel of him so freaking deep and you forget something such as words exist.

17. Getting just the right amount of aftercare cuddles, kisses and hugs. Duties are calling and Sam may be a bit of a workaholic, but you’re on top of the “to-do-list.” Taking just the right amount of time to help you get back to reality, getting your floating soul back into your thoroughly loved out body by caresses, kisses, touches, strokes. Whatever you need.

He loves you.

#sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester headcanon

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aziraphales-library · 4 months

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Hi! I'm very new to reading GO fics and was looking for recs.

I just finished reading "Demonology and the Tri-Phasic Model of Trauma: An Integrative Approach" by Nnm, and it left me on such a fic high I need more. I'd love reading Crowley centered fics with a dash of nutmeg (therapy/emotional introspection), some heart wrenching bits and also a happy ineffable husbands ending. I was wondering if you could point me towards something of the sort?

Thanks in advance, and also thank you for your service to the fandom!

Hello and welcome! If you're new you might want to check out our #fandom favourites tag (of which Demonology and the Tri-Phasic is one). We also have #therapy and #crowley-centric tags, which you may be interested in. Here are some Crowley-centric introspection fics for you that I personally love...

Do You Feel Loved? by mikripetra (T)

Crowley’s smile twists downwards. “So…still in favor of ‘the Great Plan,’ then?” “Exactly!” beams Aziraphale. “She never meant for us to go through with the Apocalypse. She planned it this way from the very Beginning, don’t you see? Everything we’ve done, everything that’s happened- every bit of it was what She intended.” Crowley swallows reflexively. His mouth tastes like ash.

this message is a warning about danger (about love) by darcylindbergh (E)

He knows Aziraphale wonders about it, sometimes. The snake. Crowley’s always careful with it. He’s always careful to make it seem like it should be impressive, to posture and pose and tease; or else he’s careful to make it seem like a joke, to fill it to the brim with bravado and confidence until it’s practically sour on his own tongue, laughing and showing off. He doesn’t ever say that he’s afraid, afterwards, and there’s not really much else to be said.

Sin Pays But Botany Doesn’t by Anonymous (G)

After averting the apocalypse, Crowley is living in his car with a lot of free time on his hands. He posts a YouTube video talking about plants as a joke but finds internet famedom where a punchline should be. Being a YouTube botanist agrees with him, though. He likes talking about plants, and he usually doesn’t find many opportunities to do that outside of YouTube. So, Crowley adopts traveling the world in search of plants to film as a new hobby. Kept in the dark about this new hobby, Aziraphale, who is used to being Crowley’s sole object of attention and is unused to having to compete with anything for Crowley’s time, is curious about where Crowley goes when he’s not in London.

Crowley and His Army of Grandmothers by burnt_oranges (NR)

Crowley had impulsively stopped by Artisan Du Chocolate, the next place on Aziraphale’s meticulously ordered list of chocolatiers to sample, and now Crowley wonders--is it too much? He had bought a hundred fucking pounds’ worth of chocolate, of course it’s too much, but would Aziraphale notice that it was too much? That is the question.

I Only Have Eyes For You by Twilightcitysky (M)

After narrowly escaping execution, Aziraphale and Crowley want to fly under the radar for a while. Worried that performing miracles will reveal their location to their former bosses, they relocate to the country and stop using their powers. Meanwhile, Aziraphale is ready to start moving faster... and Crowley has a secret. Can he keep Aziraphale from realizing what's changed while juggling moving trucks, furniture assembly, inquisitive mediums, attacks of Feng Shui, and the mortifying ordeal of grocery shopping? A fic about moving in together, finding yourself, and finding one another.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley-centric #introspection #mod d

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skyeblue8 · 11 months

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𝐋𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐎𝐥𝐲𝐦𝐩𝐮𝐬 𝐯𝐬. 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐯𝐚 𝐁𝐨𝐬𝐬 (𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐬)

Whether or not you're all familiar with the Webcomic, Lore Olympus is an award-winning comic created by Rachel Smythe that's essentially about a modern retelling of the Hades and Persephone myth with various other Gods and references in it, and what not. And, assuming you have a critical eye when it comes to writing, it's has become wildly disliked and even hated by a lot of critics and former fans due to the butchering of myths and gods (and a religion), unlikeable characters, poor character design, poorer handling of sensitive topics like SA and racism, and overall the author's inability to listen and take critism that would've helped her improve.

youtube

The reason I bring this up at all is because I have the nagging fear that Helluva Boss and, by extension, Hazbin Hotel, are going to be doomed to fall into the same pit of failure as Lore Olympus is, mainly due to a nagging pattern that I've noticed between the two:

The Writers. The two are relatively close in age and, in my opinion, immaturity in writing as evidenced by the various plot inconsistencies, character treatment and development, and poor world-building established in both media. On top of that, however, both have a significantly bad reception to criticism of their work in any way, shape, or form. We've seen this before in how Viv herself states that she's been told that she can't take criticism well since she was 17.

Now, it's one thing to have these claims as a teenager, it's another to have them as a fully grown adult and not learn to mature past this issue by now. The number one issue with ignoring criticism for so long, especially in your very popular work, is that eventually, it's going to show. Sooner or later, many of your fans, regardless of how they felt about your work prior, are gonna notice small flaws that gradually become bigger and more glaring the longer they are ignored.

Time and time again, this issue has arisen in Rachel Smythe's work, both in design:

As well as writing...

Speaking of which, I'm beginning to see a similarity in their writing issues in the fact that, evidently, neither creator had/has any set plan for how their stories are gonna be told. Readers of LO have seen that from the frequent additions of various, random plots with the previously established plots having not been concluded in a meaningful or tactful way, and we see this with Vivzie and Season 2.

Going off this, both Vivzie and Smythe show blatant favoritism towards their main characters or love interests that prevent other characters from having their own development (i.e., Millie), as well as keeps the main couple from having any sort of flaws that the audience would perceive as truly bad, thus removing any nuance to them.

We see this in Persephone and her character:

And we see the same with Stolas and Blitzo, mainly in regards to Stolas' past and situation with Stella, as well as Blitzø's own past as we're made to constantly feel bad for him despite him not being the victim. It's made worse since we've yet to know what he did to every single person he's wronged, but, for that, I'm willing to give the benefit of the doubt until we see more of Season 2.

Lastly, and probably the most glaring thing for me, both Smythe and Vivize take inspiration from real-world religions (RS –> Greek Polytheism; Vivzie –> Christianity/Demonology). These religions are both widespread in their popularity and, thus, are important to millions around the world. Because of this, both should surely have a sense of obligation to not bastardize the stories and characters they referenced in their work and/or should make their likeness relatively similar to their original works so others who know of it are familiar with the characters.

Both creators have failed to do so at some point in time and have gone so far as to push the blame on their audience rather than admit fault and work to improve.

Viv with Beelezbub

And Smythe with Persephone and the other gods/Goddesses:

Worst yet, both use social media as a means of weaponizing their fanbase against those who have a few critiques about each work of media. Now, what I can say for Viv is that the severity of these issues hasn't fully hit her yet, whereas Smythe, despite her awards, is feeling the brunt of her poor writing choices from former fans and readers. While Helluva Boss is more new and doesn't hold as much overwhelming significance to me, I've been with Hazbin Hotel since the beginning before the pilot even aired.

It's because of this that my greatest concern is that if Viv doesn't start seeing through these issues within Helluva Boss and, really, herself, then both shows may be doomed to fail, without Hazbin airing in its entirety. Worse yet, it would be a major blow for fellow indie creators who look up to her as an inspiration, so I really hope she doesn't reach RS's level of infamy in her work. 🙏

*PS: For a better Lore Olympus's viewing experience, I recommend this:

#helluva boss critical #vivziepop critical #helluva boss critique #hazbin hotel critical #helluva boss criticism #hazbin hotel critique #anti lo #Youtube #anti vivziepop #anti lore olympus

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mcmuerteflurry · 1 year

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Lobo/muerte/death handlers HC-GN victim reader- muerte speech

!CW: suggestive and possible NSFW and google translate!

Whistling will be one of the most common sounds you’ll hear in a daily basis

You have to either be the most interesting being in existence or a Cupid must’ve used their most powerful arrow and ran out along the way

Perhaps one of, if not, the most dangerous in the Shrek universe

Would commonly call the victim conejito (bunny in Spanish) in a mocking tone

Running only motivates him to chase

An example you tried escaping him

“He will cling on to you like a demon in love with a religious woman”

Possibly going to any religious professional or spiritual professional such as a shaman or a fortune teller would all have their thoughts and astral minds clouded on your situation

It is merely impossible to escape the images of muerte wether it’s paintings, cards, cups or even posters the victim will see him everywhere

No tailsman or any religious or protective relics can save you from the personification of fear and death

The victim should get use to being in a continuous state of fear

The first time the victim hears those answers they’re at the state of confusion or laughter either way it doesn’t end right

Victim’s first time hearing the whistle placed them in the state of panic attacks or even anxiety attacks for their words are true

“Do not indulge with him for his appearance is most appealing”

“Mi amor engulf yourself in my aura for there would be eternal safety” he would announce with open arms that he has completely not recited for hours before introducing himself

“Do not feed to the delusion of his for it will consume you”

“I am indeed your one true love”

Mirrors are the reader’s worst enemy because muerte can watch them via the mirrors (like how some Jinns and demons can watch through the mirrors)

Tú pensamiento pobre conejito

Think someone can help nope! Not even witchcraft or a guillotine would get that wolf’s tongue out of your ass for as long as you cease to exist

Would destroy any form of communication with others because he believes “he knows better, he’s been on this planet since the beginning of time and knows every scenario by the”

He would hold the victim in his arms as a “protection” mechanism to make the victim feel safe in his delusions

“Mi amor, mi conejito I know what’s best for you, you don’t even have to repay me like those friends of yours just stay in my arms is all I’m asking for”

Any time you deny his assistance he would always find a way to get you to lean to him

Would purposely cause casualties to make sure you’re entirely dependent on them

“Mi conejito… I always knew they didn’t care for you only I care for you in the highest of levels because I am the only true love for you”

His sickles tallies the amount of family he has killed and is craving for many more to envelope their victim into isolation

I HC that he can interact with animals like how in some demonology books some demons can interact with someone via animals or revive and give messages

He says as the animal souls gave him the signal that your friend’s and family soul has reached the river to the ferrymen

Animal souls become a common visitor wether it is a message with gifts or regular message

You haven’t touched your drink you okay mate

The victim is either avoiding some pubs or finding hidden ones

The victim attempted to stand up and walk away but was soon stopped by a pair of arms gripping the side of their waist

Muerte’s breathe brushes against the victim’s ears

“mi conejita donde pensaste que podías correr” (my bunny did you think you could run)

Muerte would coo nothing less than sweet things whilst their hand explore the victim’s body

The victim’s breathe hitch as they try to stabilise themselves causing the bartender to question them in concern

“No one can see us so why don’t we continue this somewhere”

I don’t want to do this to you but you need to learn

If the victim managed to run that’s a miracle but disguised as a curse (Some NSFW)

Scenario A

The victim’s back has been slammed to the wall of an alleyway late at night during a festival

The victim’s hands above their head and Muerte’ touches teasing the victim under their cloak

The area getting steamy with huffing and yelps

Scenario B

The victim cannot find a proper disguise thus steals the poncho/cloak to hide in the crowd

The victim finally arrived to the back of a building to rest their breathing with their palms on the walls to avoid showing their face

“mi conejo, no puedes esconderte de mí, estoy tan en tu mente como en el área en la que resides” My rabbit, you can't hide from me, I'm as much in your mind as I am in the area in which you reside.

Was the last thing the victim heard before a leg was lifted and muffled moans escaped

“You look adorable in my poncho/cloak we should continue doing this for our ‘little sessions’ hm?”

Conclusion

“All I want from you is to act obedient and submissive under my rule is that too much to ask” he complains

He would throw the victim onto his back and walk back to an area where you cannot run nor hide

#death puss in boots #muerte x reader #pussylicker #puss in boots #puss in boots wolf #death x reader #puss boots the last wish #yandere #muerte yandere

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pastelpressmachine · 1 year

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Black Mirror’s Demon 79 and the Justification of Brown Feminine Rage (warning: spoilers)

What if intrusive thoughts can be valid, and it is okay, maybe even necessary to act on them sometimes? If violence isn’t the answer, why must it so often be the question?

Set in Northern England, 1979, “Demon 79″ is the final episode of Black Mirror’s sixth season. It follows Nida, a meek sales assistant with a mousy appearance, who is tasked with the most complicated and important mission: to save the world by taking the lives of three human sacrifices in the days leading up to May Day.

Champions of the extended metaphor, Black Mirror employ the talents of Anjana Vasan (an Indian-born, Singaporean-raised, and U.K.-based actress) who plays Nida Huq and Paapa Essiedu (an English actor of Ghanaian descent) who plays Gaap*, the demon Nida accidentally invokes upon finding a talisman that begins this stressful mission of her. Gaap, devilishly handsome and charming, trying to earn his “wings” and be initiated into demonhood reassures the panicking Nida that she is not going mad, she is not a bad person, and the people she is encouraged to kill are vetted through his soul-reading as deserving of death.

*Gaap is considered through stories of demonology and texts related to the Testament of Solomon to be the Prince of Hell, with angels as siblings and a penchant for manipulating women and rendering them infertile.

Gaap adjusts his form to something more comfortable for Nida by changing into a look-a-like of Bobby Farrell from the famous disco-funk German-Caribbean vocal group known as Boney M. Having the representation of a demonic entity be a Black man while allowing him to manifest into a symbol of appeal for Nida turns the inherent vilification of Black men on its head without contributing to the hypersexualization of Black bodies. Gaap is never presented as a love interest for her, but viewers do get to see them develop a snarky back-and-forth. I almost never see Black and brown leads banter like this.

Another reason I’m glad Gaap was not portrayed as a sinful symbol of sexual desire is because Indian women already have to navigate a shame-fueled purity culture, and I wouldn’t want to see her grapple with her feelings for someone who is not only outside of her race and religion, but isn’t human. Writers avoided the idea that to love Gaap was to love something forbidden in all possible ways. And we don’t need to see Black folks depicted as not-human. The history of both American cinema and politics has acted on that dangerous perception already.

When I saw the opening scene of Nida with her wide eyes waking up to get ready for work, I recognized the doe-like innocence in her face as the one I have been raised to emulate. She looks so much like my mother 30 years ago. Minimal makeup, modest clothes, hair neat and tied back.

Moments of Nida’s inner demons being unleashed start off as fantasies she has. She is quietly scurrying through her life as an oppressed minority in 1970′s England, where xenophobia and racism showed up everywhere, from the actions of the British Nationalists to the microaggressions Nida faces at work for simply bringing her potent biryanis to the stock room and “stinking up the place”.

Indian women are some of the least visible in politics historically and presently because we are raised to not make a fuss of things, to be quiet and reserved and let white people act how they want towards us because we are guests in their countries, even when they’ve colonized and pillaged our own. I feel Nida’s pain as she thanks the white people around her for the bare minimum (allowing her an alternative place to eat, such as the basement - where she finds the talisman that changes her life) and avoids the confrontation and rage within her, even sighing in defeat at the NF* tag that has been spray-painted on her front door.

*NF stands for the National Front, a far-right, fascist political party in the United Kingdom, founded in 1967.

I crave catharsis for Nida. And for her late mother, whom she has a photo of in her apartment. She explains after the first sacrifice that her mother was perceived as crazy, and now Nida is afraid that people will think the same of her, and this time, because of what she’s done, it will be true. I wondered if Nida’s mom was called crazy because she had stood up for herself, reported abuse or harassment that was occurring within the Indian community itself or in her own home, or tried to leave Nida’s father. None of these scenarios would make the show seem like fiction at all, at least not for many of the South Asian women trapped by the chains of patriarchal ideals.

There are moments where I am concerned Nida is enamored by Michael Smart, a white politician giving a campaign speech outside the store she works at, as if his mere acknowledgment of her existence without visible disgust is enough to make her heart flutter. Again, I enjoy seeing a Black and brown lead in this episode, and knowing that other viewers are getting to see the many instances of white culture that exposes the racist ignorance and unfair power structures that exist in western society, workplaces, and even the homes of white folks themselves. (I was so happy for little Laura to hear of what was done to her assailant).

When it comes to stopping the world from absolute destruction in a nuclear holocaust, the heroes have never really been people who look like Nida. (It is worth noting that the head writer for this episode was Bisha K. Ali, who also is the executive writer for Disney+’s Ms. Marvel and has tackled many of the same representation issues in her work). People like her don’t have the permission to be loud, angry, or violent without consequences, no matter how justified. Meanwhile, with unchecked authority, bombs go off and innocent people die and children cower in their beds and white men get to act on their worst traits and impulses, however sinful, with little to no accountability.

Even when Nida is being violent, it is for the greater good. Because it has to be. Even female rage has to serve a purpose for others. It cannot just be hers. If she’s going to be angry, she better be trying to solve crime or save the world.

And through this most guttural and sometimes poisonous part of being a human, Gaap sees her. Maybe it’s because he has transformed in the image of Nida’s celebrity crush or maybe it’s truly the way in which he interacts with her, Gaap sees Nida. He recognizes the type of violence she would and would not indulge in. He tells her she should feel more at ease after killing the first sacrifice, a pedophile she clobbers with a brick before he falls into a river. He continuously recognizes her hesitation, and suggests “Dutch courage”, or booze before following through with the second kill. It is inappropriate in Indian culture for women to drink, which Nida notes when she tells Gaap she doesn’t. Then he asks her if she wants to, something, from the expression on Nida’s face, it doesn’t seem like she has ever been asked.

Upon entering a pub full of (yes, all white) men, Nida is dismissed by the (also white) female bartender who looks just as irritated by her existence as her coworker Vicky, who had reported how unfair it was that she had to smell Nida’s lunches and endure the lingering scent at work. An older (also white) bartender (who might be the owner) takes her order with the same polite and quiet discomfort of her boss, who had presented her with the basement lunch “solution” to appease Vicky. It’s subtle but the approaches in which different age groups and genders of white English folk take with engaging with Nida demonstrate the variety of ways in which people of colour experience discrimination. At its worst, it is violent hate crimes and unjust legislation that mutates into full blown genocide. At its mildest, it’s passive aggression and strained tolerance.

It’s more apparent with the second killing (of a man named Keith who killed his wife) that Nida does have the option to be as righteous as she wants to be, which is something I really appreciated about her character. Even if she was killing to prevent the literal apocalypse, and the clock was 6 minutes from midnight -- she must follow the cadence of at least one kill a day -- the moment she has to hear Keith’s justification for what he did and his attempt at absolving himself with the statement “I’m not a bad husband, but --” she swings a hammer at his head to shut him up. She then bashes his head in repeatedly, even to the point where Gaap is wincing at the sight. If this was just about killing people to stop a bigger disaster and loss of life, she wouldn’t be losing herself in the act like she did.

The third and final kill occurred in the next few minutes, as Keith’s roommate, witnesses her trying to exit, which presents itself as problem in allowing her to continue with the mission if she’s arrested. It’s messy because it was fast, the least premeditated, and she doesn’t know who the man is or if he’d done anything as bad as the previous two skills. Because of this, she’s much more apologetic as the man dies, later finding out from Gaap he was Keith’s brother, Chris, an “ordinary” person who would not have been one of Nida’s choices.

But as Gaap says, “What’s done is done”. And the three lines on the talisman should have disappeared indicating that Nida has fulfilled her duty. But it still has a line remaining, so a confused Gaap dials 666 (of course) on Nida’s rotary phone to explain the issue to his superiors. He tells Nida that Keith apparently didn’t count because he’s a murderer and anyone who’s been directly responsible for the death of another human being (not counting future deaths they might be responsible for) is off limits. Chris counted because his death still occurred just before midnight.

Nida doesn’t snap psychologically and decide she enjoys this and is going to become a serial killer, which is a direction I find common in other Black Mirror episodes, where the white and/or male character loses it and/or goes on a killing spree. She grapples once more with her initial unwillingness to participate in this because even when given the go-ahead and to have the most reason to, she enters a mental boxing ring with her instinct v. culture v. morals. From my own experience and what I have seen in my own community, outward expression of rage is never the first emotion a woman reaches for...because she can’t always afford to in the way others can.

“My whole life, I never wished harm on anyone.”

Gaap tells her what’s at risk for him, and he describes a fate of punishment that she says sounds like her life now. She stands, empathizing with an actual demon, and deciding to continue with the mission. Gaap also reminds her this isn’t solely for him; she possessed a darkness within her that drew her to the talisman. So, he asks her, who pissed her off?

To Possette’s Shoes they go.

Vicky, a prime choice for the grand finale, delegates the task of attending to the young girl Laura (from earlier) and her mother to Nida. Because the little girl creeps Vicky out. Gaap informs Nida that because she killed Laura’s dad, Laura doesn’t kill herself at 28 and instead goes to therapy, becomes a mother at 29, and a grandmother at 57. It’s a comforting thought amidst the mayhem of it all.

Michael Smart makes an appearance once more, as his father and the boss’s father, are old college friends, and Nida’s boss had promised him a suit and shoes on the house. The boss unsurprisingly selects Vicky as the sales attendant, with Gaap grumbling to himself as Nida’s eyes go from ‘excited crush’ to just crushed. Her boss then chooses to notice the boxes on the floor from when Vicky could’ve been cleaning up and hisses at Nida, “Could you pick up the bloody mess?” This prompts Gaap to suggest the boss be the next to go.

Nida moves on to cleaning up the boxes, eavesdropping on the conversation between Michael and Vicky. When Michael says he hopes he has her vote, she says she is siding with the National Front who she believes will help rid the town of all the pesky foreigners. And then Michael Smart reveals himself to be what a lot of politicians are: covert bigots. He explains to Vicky that an explicitly xenophobic campaign would be too polarizing, so you have to elect a moderate who can win over the masses and put the evil plans in motion. (Sound familiar?)

There is a subliminal language spoken among white supremacists, even if they smile politely at people who look like me and Nida. And this revelation that she witnesses presents an even more justifiable option for Nida’s third kill.

She asks Gaap to give her information about Michael’s future, which he hesitantly reveals to her. Michael Smart wins the election, eventually becomes prime minister, and leads a new world order built on white supremacy. Nida decides he is the final target, but Gaap tells her he wouldn’t be the right choice because the Satanic world he comes from is a fan of his work and everyone there would want Michael to be able to facilitate the upcoming deaths that occur as a result of him first winning the election to become a member of Parliament.

But Nida is set on him, or no one, giving Gaap the ultimatum to get on board or risk his own banishment after failing his initiation.

Meanwhile, a police investigation occurs which leads to the bar staff identifying Nida as a “muttering Indian woman” who was at the bar the night Keith died. Len Fisher of Tipley Police arrives at Nida’s apartment, as part of routine questioning, and she invites him in, with Gaap’s suggestion to kill him.

Fisher is the first white person to speak to her as person, too, even though he’s there on the premise of Nida being a potential suspect. Maybe this is more covert trust-building behaviour, maybe as a cop, maybe as someone generally suspicious of people of colour. He is the most mild-mannered, middle-man in the whole story.

Fisher follows Nida who follows Smart after his speech at town hall. This is where I’m a little surprised but not displeased. The other episodes end with something sad, violent, and/or redemptive. Nida gets a bit of everything, but as with all things Black Mirror, not in the way you’d expect. In society, Nida may be reduced to a mad woman telling an insensible story, enduring the same perception people had of her mother. But society doesn’t last long, and she walks off into a kind of nuclear, fiery sunset with a new friend.

The deadline for the sacrifices had been May Day, also known as Workers’ Day or International Workers’ Day to commemorate the struggles and gains made by workers and the labour movement. Nida, representing intersectional identities of the working class (immigrants, women, people of colour), was not listened to or believed, and the world ended because of it. Her weapon of choice had been a hammer, a tool meant for building that was used for destructive but necessary purposes. This could be a reference to the Communist party’s symbol of a hammer and sickle, which represents proletarian solidarity. The meaning of the episode, particularly its ending, captures the significance of the working class and how our world relies on them to function and last. When their efforts are stunted, their sacrifices are in vain, or they are not heard, the world ends.

#black mirror #demon 79 #tv series review #black mirror season 6 #paapa essiedu #digital illustration #fanart #commissions open #anjana vasan

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thegoetia · 10 months

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Ars Goetia Blog

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This page is about the Goetia hierarchy from The Lesser Key of Solomon/Lemegeton Clavicula Salomonis. Do note that this Grimoire is made from an Abrahamic viewpoint of demons and hell.

Solomon/Jedidiah was monarch of ancient Israel and the son and successor of King David, according to the Hebrew Bible and the Old Testament. He is said to have been the penultimate ruler of an amalgamated Israel and Judah. The Bible says Solomon built the First Temple in Jerusalem, dedicating the temple to Yahweh, or God in Judaism. Solomon is portrayed as wealthy, wise and powerful, and as one of the 48 Jewish prophets. He is also the subject of many later references and legends, most notably in the Testament of Solomon.

Note on correspondences

These correspondences are what are commonly used. These correspondences can vary from person to person and their relationship with the spirits. Ask the spirits themselves what offerings they like or want and what they will work with you on.

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18+ Occult Discord server

Main Blog

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pinkgy · 9 days

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Belphegor Theory

Ok, so I might and might have not spent about two hours doing some research about Belphegor because that "Halo" of his has me questioning a lot of things, and this is what I came up with, but extremely summarized.

I'm most definitely no expert on the topics I'm about to talk about, I just dug a bit too deep into the internet and got some interesting things, I would like to know if I'm wrong and I would love to read opinions about this.

I got the information from looooots of sources, and credit to all of them.

So, we know that What in Hell is Bad is heavily inspired by biblical concepts, the Seven Deadly Sins are from Christianity, the Seraphims are mentioned in Christian, Islamic, and Jewish Literature, and pretty much all of the nobles are from the Ars Goetia, and many of them are associated with Christian Demonology.

The game also has many references to other religions and beliefs, but if I were to make a list of all those references, I'd be here writing for days.

Let's dig a bit into who is Belphegor outside the game.

Belphegor is referenced in both Jewish and Christian traditions, he originates from the Moabites, a very ancient tribe that habited the region of Moab, an ancient Levantine kingdom. Belphegor is originally the Moabite god Baal-Peor, who was associated with fertility, sexual power, and orgies, then he was absorbed into Hebrew mythology and later into Christian demonology.

In Christian Demonology, Belphegor is one of the seven princes of hell, and he represents the deadly sin of Sloth. He is also associated with laziness, apathy, and negligence and his name means "Lord of the Opening"

Belphegor is physically described in many ways, a very interesting fact is that in the Dictionnaire Infernal, a book written by Jacques Auguste Simon Collin de Plancy that summed up, is an illustrated version of the demonology, he is described as always having his mouth open, and the hand placement he has in the banner that Prettybusy recently released could be making a reference to that.

(Another interesting fact is that he's said to be hard to conjure because his sacrificial offering is excrement, but I prefer to ignore that)

Belphegor is also referenced in the Kabbalah, which is like a philosophy, or to be more precise, an esoteric method, discipline, and school of thought in Jewish mysticism that deals with the essence of God and the universe (I just copy&pasted this, it's a bit hard to explain, srry)

In the Kabbalah, guess what Belphegor is.

A fallen angel.

To be more precise, he was an angel in the order of the principalities.

Belphegor is known to be an enemy to the sixth sephiroth and the archdemon (or the leader) of the Togarini, they are the demonic counterparts to the angels that rule over the 10 Sephirot of the Tree of Life.

For context, the Sephirot are the ten emanations or attributes of God in Kabbalah.

I also read that some demons under the Togarini are Lilith, Samael, and Thaumiel, but there's very little information about that so I'm not going to use this as a fact.

The reason why he fell from grace is not explicitly mentioned, but it's somewhat implied that it was related to his association with the sixth Sephirah "Beauty" and the fact that he is depicted as a demon who tempts individuals with ingenious inventions, wealth, and discoveries (I also copy&pasted this)

It's also said that he rules over seduction, promiscuous men, and MISOGYNY.

I'm not sure if there are references from the Kabbalah in What in Hell is Bad, but if there were, it would be super interesting, as I said in the beginning, the game has a lot of references from various religions and beliefs, I would love to make a separate post about that just because I may have way too much free time to investigate that.

Or maybe I just spent 2 whole hours writing almost 700 words about a ton shit of things I barely know anything about and creating a theory just because of a black circle above a fictional character's head that it's probably just a horn just like @thrones-of-buer said on a post.

(I still have some doubts about that because it seems like in the new illustration that pb released of him today he has a unicorn horn just like Beelzebub, but I could be wrong)

This is just a theory tho, I'm most likely wrong, but I thought it would be interesting to share this with y'all :D

Sorry if there are any typos, I'm reaaally sleepy right now.

#You can tell i have a lot of free time #i know it's unrelated but Belphegor's horn looks really long #it would've been so cool if he had goat-like horns since in the Kabbalah he's associated with goats #whb #prettybusy what in “hell” is bad?#what in “hell” is bad?#whb belphegor #whb theory #pinkgy thoughts

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petercapaldi · 9 months

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✨ GOMENS FIC RECS ✨

i asked for people's favorite fics and sharing is caring :)

(i included my own recs as well)

feel free to reblog and add more!

❤️ recommended by @oldzhishen ❤️

Crown of Thorns series by irisbleufic (rating G-E)

This series was never intended to be a series as such: I wrote "A Better Place" in the wake of rather accidentally getting to ask a certain question (What are Aziraphale and Crowley doing on the South Downs, anyway?) of both authors within a week of each other back in 2005 and actually getting an answer (Sharing a cottage), thinking it'd just be a happy little one-off. But something curious happened when my Good Omens Exchange 2010 assignment resulted in "The Walls, the Wainscot, and the Mouse." From that point onward, interest in this little 'verse slowly, but steadily picked up momentum, and I kept finding more stories to tell. Some of the characters that appear herein (Phillippa [Pippa] Morrison, the Mouse, Amanda [Mandy] Tomlin, Uriel, Raphael, et al.) first turned up in my one and only attempt at a second-Apocalypse dark mirror universe, A Crown of Stars (AO3 posting of same) and its follow-ups, which predates this series considerably. The two universes parallel each other, but this one is, for our purposes, post novel-canon and set in our reality. That's pretty much what you need to know. Thank you all for continuing to read and also for giving this project life. I'll continue to add stories and ficlets until I run out of ideas or until my heart stops (whichever comes first)! The current existing pieces are complete; the series overall is ongoing on an as-and-when basis, which means that the time between additions may be weeks or months or, in rare instances, up to a year.

Madman and a Fool by loserchildhotpants (rating E)

God considers Crowley's unyielding pining for Aziraphale, his acts during the End of the World, and his very genuine desire to protect Aziraphale, worth rewarding. She can't make him an Angel again, but She can nudge Aziraphale in the right direction. If nothing else, She'd really just like Crowley to stop using Her prayer inbox for endless soliloquies about Aziraphale.

Demonology and the Tri-Phasic Model of Trauma: An Integrative Approach by Nnm (rating T)

As soon as Aubrey Thyme, psychotherapist, had opened her office door and seen her new client, Anthony J. Crowley, sitting in her waiting area, she was observing and assessing him. At first glance, she paid attention to the following: --His clothing was expensive and stylish; --He wore very strange but noticeable cologne; --His relationship to the seat he occupied could only, very loosely, be described as “sitting;” --He looked angry; --He was wearing sunglasses. What Aubrey Thyme, a professional, thought, upon first seeing her new client was: you’re going to be a fun one, aren’t you?

A Home at the Beginning of the World by stereobone (rating E)

"Oh," Aziraphale says. "I think Crowley might have moved in with me."

For the Angel Who Has Everything by triedunture (rating E)

Crowley likes giving Aziraphale things. Whatever he wants, actually. Which, happily, includes Crowley himself, as it turns out.

I'm the treasure baby, I'm the prize by stereobone (rating E)

"Are you working for Mrs. Sandwich?" Nina asks. "No," Crowley says. "Well, yes. Well, define 'working'." -- Or, Crowley is very good at faking sex work, as it turns out.

🧡 recommended by @reloha 🧡

let me feel your heartbeat (grow faster, faster) by thehoyden (rating T)

Aziraphale saw him sometimes in all-staff meetings, sitting toward the front but off to the side, lounging against a wall. Even then, he’d had style—wings tipped in gold and face painted with gold flakes in the pattern of the first constellation he designed. He was amazing, and eye-catching, and it was no exaggeration to say that he did not know Aziraphale even existed.

You'll Find Something Waiting (Right There Where You Left It) by PrimalBeatsOurHearts (rating T)

"Lets go in the Garden, "You'll find something waiting" "Right there where you left it" "Lying upside down" ------------ Or What if Crowley was Erased from The Book Of Life?

Moving Forward While Standing Still by Justanothernerdsstuff (rating G)

“Uh, yeah, sure! Thanks,” They replied and walked away, not sure why this specific book was so important to the angry man, but they were £50 richer, so they didn’t really care. Crowley flipped through the book, stalling making the decision to go into the bookshop to confront Muriel. He turned to walk away, stopped, groaned, and stalked his way into the bookshop. *** Crowley finds himself at Give Me Coffee Or Give Me Death a month after Aziraphale left to run Heaven, and ends up back at the bookshop, something he never planned to do again.

7 minutes in heaven by waddlesthejoghog (rating T)

"If Crowley and Aziraphale couldn’t figure it out, Muriel would have to take a different approach. It wasn’t enough to put them in the same location. They had to plant some seeds of conversation. They had to come to a conclusion naturally, but with a push." OR Muriel reads every book in the shop, then comes up with a plan to get Aziraphale and Crowley back together.

In the Pocket of the Universe by indieninja92 (rating E)

Immediately after the church scene (and The Slow Zoom of Homosexual Panic), Aziraphale takes Crowley out for dinner in the only place still open in the middle of an air raid. Feelings closely follow.

How to Run a Bookshop by IneffableDoll (rating T)

Muriel has been running Aziraphale’s bookshop ever since his promotion Upward. Mr. Crowley seems intent on sticking around, and Muriel has no idea what to do about that. Then, Muriel stumbles upon a collection of sketchbooks full of a familiar redhead. Did…Aziraphale draw these? Has Mr. Crowley seen them? * (“No. No. Put that back.” “Oh, but isn’t it cute? A little cup with wings! I don’t suppose it can fly like those birds can? I don’t see what a cup needs wings for, really.” “You can’t use that.” “Of course not! These wings are too small for me, and I have my own if I want to get around.” “Wh – okay, first off, you can’t go flying about London. You’ll freak people out, cause a bunch of chaos – actually, you know what, do what you like. Heaven if I care. But don’t touch that mug.” “Is it dangerous?” “…No. But it’s not yours. And it’s not polite to use something that’s not yours. Not very angelic of you.” “Oh! Of course. I knew that.”)

💛 recommended by @cheeekycharchar 💛

Together We're Golden series by Guardian_Rose (rating G-T)

Crowley & Aziraphale move to a small town, into their own little cottage but it's not without its difficulties.

True Disaster by NuriaSchnee (rating E)

After Crowley saves him in 1941, Aziraphale realises he's fallen in love with the demon. Scared this dangerous feeling of his will cause problems to his friend, he tries to break their relationship. However, his plan to push the demon away fails and they end up admitting their feelings to each other. To be able to be together and keep it a secret, Crowley stops time every time they meet. However brilliant this seems at first, it doesn't take long to backfire, opening new wounds and raising more barriers between them.

Nanny Knows Best by DictionaryWrites (rating M)

Being a nanny, that should be simple. Simple. Easy as pie. Crowley wished that were true.

💚 recommended by yours truly 💚

Strange Moons series by racketghost (rating G-E)

“At least they were together for a time,” Crowley says, staring at the lit end of his cigarette, “maybe that’s enough.”

tales from a bookshop by Rizandace (rating T)

Post-season-two. Crowley's moping, Aziraphale wants to fix things, and turns out, there's enough blame to go around. ----- "You're being ridiculous." Crowley very nearly falls over. Like, actually. He very nearly loses balance for no reason at all and tumbles to the sidewalk next to his car. He’s been playing Aziraphale’s voice in his head for weeks, he’s been trying very hard to drown out the sound of it, in fact, and now suddenly, abruptly— “What are you doing here,” is all he can think to say. He whirls around, and there he is. on Crowley’s right, standing there like he’d never left. Where he belongs, Crowley’s mind helpfully supplies. He wishes he could punch himself in the brain, knock the thoughts right on out of there.

Meanwhile the World Goes On by lineslines (rating G)

Crowley looked at him. He was still wearing his suit, there was tartan in it, but it had become polished, the worn edges returned to pristine, boring perfection. He looked prim. Proper. Perhaps this hurt most of all. (Crowley is on earth, Aziraphale is not. Meanwhile the world goes on. Plans, great and possibly ineffable, are set into motion. They are--always, inevitably--drawn back together. Long before reconciliation, long before they can bear it. The only thing they can bear less is staying apart. Oh, and Heaven seems to have misplaced Jesus.)

So You Need To Get Into A.Z. Fell & Co.; Now What? (A Guide For Unfortunate Bookworms) by c4llistrad (rating G)

London’s antique enthusiasts and rare lit nerds alike know that if you’re looking for a specific vintage or antique book, you have a good chance of ending up in A.Z. Fell & Co. as a last resort. And if you’ve ever been in (or are currently in) this predicament, you know how much of an absolute nightmare it is trying to even get in the door. Luckily, this handy guide, the fruit of a months-long collaborative effort to create the perfect formula for gaming the A.Z. Fell system, will tell you everything you need to know, complete with a comprehensive breakdown of what, exactly, the opening hours are. Compiled by pageknight and inky of the Rare Antique Forums.

Like Icarus Before Me by Arokel (rating T)

If Aziraphale were a Good person, a virtuous person, he wouldn’t have taken Crowley’s hand at all. Aziraphale muses on the nature of Goodness, and finally shares those musings with Crowley.

It's Something Like a Corkscrew by Arokel (rating G)

“How do you live with this… this inevitability? This knowledge of what’s to come?”

So let us melt by Arokel (rating G)

Of the two of them, Crowley thinks Aziraphale has held on to more of his faculties than Crowley has, but then again, he is putting off angelic heat like a particularly virtuous furnace.

So Much to be Consoled as to Console by Arokel (rating T)

“What are you,” Crowley drawled, “the patron saint of queer kids?” A series of lost souls over the centuries who prayed, whether they knew it or not, to the Angel Aziraphale.

Factory Settings by Anonymous (rating T)

Crowley gets reinstated as an angel.

such surpassing brightness by bibliocratic (rating G)

The revelation that Aziraphale might have been in love with him for thousands of years is surprising. The fact that literal books have been written on the subject comes as even more of a shock.

knowing this will I reach for you by Aria (rating E)

It wasn't as though his interest in Aziraphale was entirely appropriate. Of course it wasn't bloody appropriate. He was consorting with the Enemy, nothing about it was appropriate.

The Sandford Flower Show by Mussimm (rating E)

Crowley had waited six thousand years, kept it all in check. But this was the slipperiest slope he’d ever set foot on and as soon as he’d indulged in a few discretionary acts of kindness he was falling face first into pining, tumbling into flirting, about to dislocate his knees on the sharp rocks of intimacy. Was this really it? What he had waited six thousand years for? A stupid flower show? Aziraphale wasn’t pulling away from him. Maybe… maybe this time he wouldn’t? Maybe they’d hold hands again. Maybe tonight with a bottle of merlot in them he’d finally work up the courage and just kiss him and he wouldn’t pull away. The very moment he’d thought it he spotted the problem at the flower show.

you knew my name on sight by brinnanza (rating G)

“This wasn’t me, you know,” Crowley says, the words out of his mouth before he’s made the conscious choice to utter them. “Not just the library, but the whole civil war. You know me; I’ve mostly been getting drunk at Bacchanals.” “I know,” says Aziraphale.

The Longest Night series by charlottemadison (rating T-E)

The night the Apocalypse doesn't happen, an angel and a demon share a bus bench on the way home to face their fates. This is the story of their evening spun out line by line, all the little moments that carried them through the night they knew might be their last.

Witness the Fall by Waifine (rating G)

Crowley never talked about his time as an angel. Aziraphale never asked. But when Hell sends Crowley a package containing his most painful memories, it is Aziraphale who is plunged into the nightmare history of when his beloved friend, the angel who had once been Crowley, was hurled from the Heavens into the bowels of Hell.

An Angel who did not so much Fall In Love as Settle Into It Gradually by TheLadyZephyr (rating G)

Crowley was standing in the middle of the room, hands in his pockets, looking a little lost. Aziraphale eyed the distance between them. Five steps. Five steps, and six thousand years, and a battlefield spanning an eternity. The story of the little moments over the millennia that shape an angel’s regard for a demon, and the way he slowly, with great reluctance but inevitable surety, falls in love.

This Soul Outstreaming by Rend_Herring (rating E)

“Why did you come here?” Aziraphale interrupts. “Why do you keep doing this?” All the saving, he means, all the chasing after Aziraphale he does. It can’t only be that he’s not keen to endure a replacement. That can’t be it, not anymore. He’s going to get himself in trouble, and then it’ll be Aziraphale’s fault. Crowley’s mouth shuts with a click. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, reaches for the handle of the fork and taps his fingertips against it before setting his hands in his lap. When he speaks, it’s very soft. “Don’t you know?” he asks. Aziraphale, unnaccustomed to his heart refusing to translate why it throbs with such haste, shakes his head.

a lighthouse (burning) by books-and-omens (rating M)

In good weather, one can see the lighthouse at the Rock from the shore: a dot on the horizon, a distant star flashing red and white and red again. It’s been dark for a fortnight, of course—ever since the incident that every newspaper had breathlessly written about, that the paper-boys on the corners had shouted themselves hoarse over. This is where Aziraphale is headed: it is his duty, after all, to find out what happened, to make sure that the beacon can be safely lit once again. He does not expect Crowley to follow him to the windswept isle, to the lonely lighthouse at what could just as well be the edge of the world. Crowley follows him anyway.

paint the skies by ToEdenandBackAgain (rating G)

“This was one of yours, wasn’t it?” Aziraphale remarks casually, and Crowley feels like the warmth of the room has been sucked into space. A cold, uneasy feeling begins to creep into his gut. One of yours thrown out so casually. One of yours said like he... like he knew “What.”

Good Endings by WyvernQuill (rating T)

A Narrative of Certain Events following the Ending of the World (Except Not Quite), as vaguely hinted at in The Slapdash and Not Very Helpful Prophetic Tidbit of Agnes Nutter, Witch (And Matchmaker.) "Their lives are in horrible, terrible danger that only we can save them from!" Anathema held up the Prophetic Tidbit. "It says so. Right here." Madame Tracy peered at the page. Raised a meaningful eyebrow. "Dearie, as a woman of, well, considerable experience, I really don't think that's what 'the lyttle Deathe' means in this context..." "Huh." Anathema squinted. Flipped the page. Read another bit. "....huh." (Or, alternatively: Eight - give or take - matchmakers trying really, really hard, honest; two clueless ethereal/occult beings mutually pining their endless days away; and one witch, who can't leave well enough alone when it comes to matters of the heart, no matter how many centuries ago she died.)

If We've Got Nothing (We've Got Us) by Kedreeva (rating G)

Two months after the failed apocalypse Aziraphale finds the first dark feather growing in his wings. A story about middle grounds, ineffable plans, and what happens when the world doesn't end.

lit in the darkness by ToEdenandBackAgain (rating M)

Aziraphale returns to Crowley's flat for the night after Armageddon. After all, it's hardly the first time they've shared sleeping arrangements. Or: Times throughout history Crowley and Aziraphale have shared a bed.

💙 recommended by @vonlipwig 💙

Petrichor & Parchment by MrsNoggin (rating E)

“Mr. Crowley, I presume?” Aziraphale asked in lieu of an introduction, which was not forthcoming. The guy hadn’t even removed his sunglasses. Oh God, he had a tattoo on his face. Aziraphale wasn’t one to judge, but… what kind of gardener had a snake tattoo on his face?

💜 recommended by @darthbreezy 💜

post-professional endeavours by darcylindbergh (rating T)

Retirement is a four-letter word.

💗 recommended by @thegeekyartist 💗

Fire, Bridges, and other Sensible Idioms by KiaraMGrey (rating E)

To: The person who stopped the washer in the middle of my wash cycle and took my clothes out just to wash your own… You are an arsehole! Unfortunately for you, so am I. You can find your wet clothes frozen outside in the snow. If you have any problems with this, come see me in 301. or Aziraphale has a new neighbor, and they certainly don't start off on the right foot.

❤️ recommended by @weiwnxian ❤️

Any Other Name by mostlyanything19 (rating T)

“The Angel of the Eastern Gate.” Crawly grins. “What’s your name, anyway? You never said.” “Oh...” Apologies, Aziraphael almost says, but then he doesn’t. That would be taking things a bit too far. This is still the Enemy. “Aziraphael.” “Aziraphael,” repeats Crawly—or tries to, because halfway through the word he chokes. Quite badly. Or: What if Aziraphale’s name was originally "Aziraphael", in keeping with the conventional spelling and pronunciation of angel names, but because of its divine nature Crowley is physically unable to say it out loud.

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reybeeze · 6 months

Note

What's your favourite (or just a recent read that you enjoyed a lot) Aziracrow fanfic?

THIS IS SUCH A GREAT ASK YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW HAPPY THIS MAKES ME

okay i do have a collection of my fav azicrow fics

here's a link:

but some of my TOP favs are...

- i'd like for you and i to go romancing by dollsome

- Demonology and the Tri-Phasic Model of Trauma: An Integrative Approach by Nnm

- A Home at the Beginning of the World by stereobone

- You, Soft and Only by thehoyden

- get religion quick (cause you're looking divine) by brinnanza

- An Angel who did not so much Fall In Love as Settle Into It Gradually by TheLadyZephyr

- Strange Flesh and All That by FortinbrasFTW

- Fighting Dirty by curtaincall

- Princes of the Universe by Lyowyn (this one's a series)

- Fancy Patter on the Telephone by HotCrossPigeon

- I Just Called to Say by thehoyden

- let me feel your heartbeat (grow faster, faster) by thehoyden

- House Style by soft_october

- You Might Think I'm Crazy (All I Want is You) by soft_october

- Yours from the start by chamyl

- Surpassing All the Stars by KannaOphelia

- the voice under all silences by ShadyCakes

- Build Our Kingdom by Mackem

- Barriers, and the Breaking Thereof by Cardinal_Daughter

- Car Trouble by summerofspock

- Anthophilia by FortinbrasFTW

- Samson: A Duet by amdg2846

- The Sandford Flower Show by Mussimm

umm there's more but i'm limiting myself

and the one i'm reading rn is One Miraculous December by journeytogallifrey and I AM OBSESSED WITH IT

#i am so sorry #good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #aziracrow #azicrow #good omens fic #asks

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waivyjellyfish · 8 months

Text

Milgram - paranormal horror ideas (headcanons)

They ended up in a paranormal house.

Es:

That dude that absolutely everyone hides behind

Equanimity itself #1

Read absolutely all the books on Demonology and exorcism, because there was nothing else to read (well, at least someone here knows the material) "The best way to exorcise a demon is to read the Constitution to it. It will work in all cases, but not if the demon is a lawyer."

Jackalope:

Disappears at the very beginning and appears completely intact at the very end

Sometimes appears in random places and indicates hidden spots or unnoticed places

Make caustic comments, audible only to Es, for which the second one is looked at with suspicion.

Haruka:

It’s surprising, but even though he is afraid, he behaves quite calmly during paranormal activity (what is this boy hiding?)

Don't put any weapons in his hands

Yuno:

Perceives the situation with a bit of humor and can even make fun of someone herself

But still a bit afraid

Always somewhere near Mahiru

Fuuta:

I'm not a coward, but I'm afraid

But if something knock somewhere, look for him under the table

Scared of his shadow

But when it is necessary, he'll punch fear in the face

A walking collection of knowledge about horror tropes in games (will this help? Not really to be honest)

Muu:

Similarly to Futa. Scared of everything

But she has Haruka. Will Haruka protect Mu?

Good at solving puzzles (when she opens her eyes)

Shidou:

Equanimity itself #2

Seen some shit before

Weak against child ghosts

Mahiru:

“I’m terribly afraid, but as an older sister I shouldn’t scare the others, so I’ll pretend that I’m not scared” (attempt to be brave failed) “Is it possible to negotiate with ghosts? I have cookies.” "Oh, rats💕"

Kazui:

the main strength of the team

uncle_can_you_get_the_switch_from_the_shelf_and_move_the_box -Someone said that tobacco scares ghosts away -No, Kazui, you won't smoke in front of the children.

Amane:

The little one is responsible for all the prayers in this damned place (which infuriates the paranormal and they are trying to get rid of her)

"God will punish you all"

I_can_climb_anywhere_child

"Ghosts don't exist!" A bony hand with long claws rests on her shoulder.

Mikoto:

-Where did he get lost again? -Mikoto where did you get the bat? -Mikoto? -MIKOTO, WHAT THE HELL?!

“How did I end up here? You guys have strange pranks.”

If Orekoto comes out, then you can classify him as a demon, he does not distinguish between enemies and allies

Has immunity to possession due to the Orekoto, but no one knows about it.

Kotoko:

Equanimity itself #3

How to fight an incorporeal one?

"I'm leaving this place"

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dailydemonspotlight · 3 days

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Will you do Beelzebub? One of my all-time favorite demons!

Beelzebub - Day 50!!!

Race: Tyrant

Alignment: Dark-Chaos

June 7th, 2024

This was a long time coming. I mean, come on, he's literally in my header! Beelzebub and SMT go hand in creepy pincer, the lord of flies appearing in nearly every Megaten game to date and having major roles in several, including an infamous boss fight in Nocturne. While not the king of demons, Beelzebub is among the most powerful, often contending with Satan himself! Today's Demon of the Day needs no introduction- the Demon of Gluttony, Lord of the Flies, Beelzebub. One of the most prevalent and powerful demons in demonology, this diseased despot represents not only a bastardization of Baal but also insects, envy, and excess, all of which make the lord of the flies a powerful figure in demonic circles. Without any further ado, let's dig in!

Satan almighty, where do I even begin with Beelzebub? As one of the many Kings of Hell, the amount of lore in Beelzebub's story paints a fascinating picture of not only the demon itself, but also Christianity, demonology, and how religious concepts change and are passed from area to area over time, corrupting into different forms to fit differing agendas. I guess, to start, we should look into the earliest ever mention of the Lord of the Flies, an offhand comment in the Books of Kings, a pair of books in the old testament that serve as a bedrock to the history of ancient Israel. In one of these books, King Ahaziah of the Northern Kingdom of Israel had been hurt. Bad.

After a severe injury from a fall, he sent several of his messengers to inquire about the god of a nearby kingdom, Ekron, a city ruled by the Philistines. This god, of course, was none other than Beelzebub, given the epithet 'Baʿal-zəvuv.' Terrified for his life, the king sent his people to ask that god as to if he would recover... which made a wandering prophet, Elijah, rather furious. After an angel of God visited the prophet, basically calling the king an idiot for not recognizing the fact that Israel is the holy ground for the big man upstairs, Elijah went to visit the king and delivered the message that he would die before the servants sent to inquire about Baʿal-zəvuv could return. Unsurprisingly, the king ended up dying after putting his faith in a false prophet.

This tale has several aspects to it which are curious- if you'll remember our Baal DDS, Beelzebub effectively takes the role of Baal in one of the stories outlined, wherein the faith of a man is tested against a god of another religion. Combine that with the fact that Beelzebub's name in this tale, Baʿal-zəvuv, quite literally has the term Ba'al in it, and it becomes somewhat suspect- it can easily be intuited that Beelzebub was, in effect, a different name or interpretation of Baal. This theory is confirmed later on in the text, however- the name for Beelzebub given also has a translation, roughly meaning "Lord of [the] Flies," and an earlier text by a cult which worshipped Ba'al also states that he was capable of summoning flies to cause illness. Curious! Another theory as to Baʿal-zəvuv's name actually originates as a pun- some people speculate that the deity's original name to this hitherto unmentioned cult of Philistines could have been "Baʿal zəvul," a name translating roughly to 'Lord of the Heavenly Dwelling.' Possibly after a bit of transliteration and puns, that name could've been shifted derogatorily into being Baʿal-zəvuv. It would explain why the term is so specific, as it could've originated as a pun and a twist on Ba'al's powers according to Canaanite myth, but this is debated somewhat.

Nomenclature aside, however, there's still more to this demon- while Beelzebub is believed to be based on Ba'al, it quickly spun off into its own figure in the Testament of Solomon, a non-canonical book related to the story of King Solomon, the first demon summoner. Yep, it's Solomon again! Almost every capital-D-Demon has something to do with his majesty, given that most of them originate from texts regarding him. And yet he still hasn't appeared in the SMT series. Cowards. Appearing again, though with a different name this time, far closer to the now common reading, Beelzebul appears as a demonic prince representing the planet Venus. However, another knot is thrown into this tale as, this time, Beelzebub is synonymous with Lucifer! The things Beelzebul is described as doing are things that, in almost any other Christian text, would have been done by Lucifer- whether it be through depositing despots into positions of power or inciting demonic worship, the text describes Beelzebul as being one and the same with the Prince of Hell.

While this is the origin of the common conflation of Lucifer and Beelzebub, we need to jump forward a bit more to get the canonical texts related to this buzzing bastard- Beelzebub is one of the very few Demons actually mentioned in the Bible by name. Appearing first in Mark 3:22, a group of scribes accuse our boy Jeezy-C of using the power of Beelzebul to drive out demons. In future expansions of the text, he is also brought up in several Matthew verses. To quote Matthew 12:25-28,

Jesus knew their thoughts and said to them, "Every kingdom divided against itself will be ruined, and every city or household divided against itself will not stand. If Satan drives out Satan, he is divided against himself. How then can his kingdom stand? And if I drive out demons by Beelzebul, by whom do your people drive them out? So then, they will be your judges. But if I drive out demons by the Spirit of God, then the kingdom of God has come upon you."

Yes, I am reciting scripture, but look, it comes with the territory. While in the original translation, Beelzebub is referred to as Beelzebul, later translations take a few liberties; in the Syriac translation, per instance, Beelzeboul is the new name. This fly has way too many names. Jesus Christ. While this translation mistake was repeated in the King James version of the Bible, most current day translations simply refer to Beelzebub as, well, Beelzebub. Thank god. Or Satan. Or King James. In everyone's favorite first apocalypse story, the New Testament, Beelzebub finally makes a formal debut! I told you there was a lot to dig into with this guy.

Beelzebub finally appears, not in the form of an Ekronite god nor an offhand mention, as the Prince of Demons, appearing in the place of the Devil. Yes, again. This is getting frustrating. In older texts, from what I can tell, this was never truly the case- the melding together of the King of the Flies and the King of Hell was a later addition by the authors of the New Testament, who were probably just having a laugh at future demonologists. As mentioned earlier, Beelzebub was mentioned as simply a powerful demon by some scribes who were cussing out Jesus, so this sudden ascension to the throne is... strange. Thankfully for my purposes, this role of his is hotly debated, but it's still frustrating that I can't trace his later characterization to any one source!

Finally, though, we have a point of reference. At long, long last. A 16th century occultist named Johann Weyer. As given in the book 'The Devil in Legend and Literature' by Rudwin Maximilian, a set of stories written by Weyer describe Beelzebub as the chief lieutenant of Lucifer's forces, having led a secondary revolution against Heaven and later retreating to Hell to follow after Lucifer's orders. This would only be a prelude to the main star story, however- none other than Paradise Lost. As described in the infamous epic, Beelzebub, finally, gets a solid role outside of being a stand-in for Lucifer or a bastardization of Ba'al- yes, we finally get Beelzebub being a King of Hell in a text! Described as being only beaten out by Satan himself in terms of strength, Beelzebub was part of the Unholy Trinity, consisting of it, Lucifer, and Astaroth. (No Malphas, unfortunately. Gary had to sit this one out.)

In Paradise Lost, Beelzebub is an incredibly powerful and influential character who serves as a driving force for the invasion of the Human world. As Satan's closest ally and proxy, Beelzebub also is representative of the deadly sin of Envy in the story. As an observation by Bradley J. Irish states, there are obvious connections drawn between Beelzebub and envy throughout the poem, and though the main focus of envy is on Satan throughout, Beelzebub himself serves an important role in going into and speaking about envy. However, this leads into a big point of contention with Beelzebub as a whole- what deadly sin he even represents.

In the book 'The Lanterne of Light' by an anonymous Lollard, a classification of the princes of hell is given, attributing Beelzebub to Envy. This book, notably, was released before Paradise Lost, which likely influenced Milton's writing of the story. However, Sébastien Michaelis, yet another demonic scholar (and one maybe familiar if you read the Asmodeus episode) described him as representative of the deadly sin of Pride. Yay! Pride Month, headed by this oversized fruit fly! However, yet again, another person argued for Beelzebub being a different sin- Peter Binsfeld's 1589 'Treatise on Confessions by Evildoers and Witches' describes Beelzebub as the demon of gluttony, and lastly, at least according to Wikipedia, another Demonologist purported that he represented idolatry.

Later on in history, once Beelzebub was a bit more solidified as a demon outside of Satan's reign, he got up to a lot of mischief- during the Salem Witch Trials, he was typically and repeatedly used as the demon possessing or being used by several of the accused witches. Nowadays, however, Beelzebub reached his biggest height not even through his own name, but rather his epithet- the infamous book by William Golding, the Lord of the Flies, which invoked Beelzebub's name in the title. In the story, which is a tale going into the inherently destructive nature of humanity, the Lord of the Flies is invoked as a false religious figure a group of kids begin to worship, being a decapitated and rotting pig's head representing the gluttony of humanity. Admittedly, I haven't read Lord of the Flies yet, but the story and its general themes had a lot to do with shaping the cultural consciousness surrounding Beelzebub.

Which, well... what is that? The common consensus on Beelzebub is that of him being the King of Gluttony, second only to Satan in terms of power- combining several themes and ideas from the past into one composite figure, Beelzebub himself.

Generally, Beelzebub seems to be primarily based on a composite mixture of his appearance in Paradise Lost, the studies of several demonologists, and the ideas presented in Lord of the Flies, shaping this marvelous menace into what we see him as today. Or he can also just be Satan again... but that's boringggg.... However, in terms of culture, SMT takes notes. A lot of notes. So how is Beelzebub represented in the series?

Perfectly. Beelzebub is iconic, and it's not hard to see why- his design is menacing, conveys his role as Lord of the Flies extremely well, and is frankly as badass as someone can make a fly look. The scepter and the necklace of skulls make him look terrifying, especially given how imposing he tends to be in gameplay- Beelzebub is, historically, one of the most powerful demons in the series, making perfect sense given his role as the right hand man of Satan himself. I cannot stress enough how much I utterly adore this design and how it manages to mix the idea of a fly into something twisted, demonic, terrifying, and badass. Even his human disguise looks cool to me, even though it's a bit bland in comparison to the masterpiece that is his fruit fly design.

I can't find much reason why he has a human disguise, but it's likely just due to the fact that a demonic prince like himself would need to hide away. If anyone has an exact reason why, though, please tell me!

One also can't mention Beelzebub without bringing up his boss fight in Nocturne, one of the most challenging and fun slugfests in the game. With his signature skill instantly killing any demon who isn't immune to dark, massive healthpool, and insane bursts of damage, Beelzebub makes for a formidable foe if there ever was one- and besides, even if Metatron is more difficult, Beelzebub's boss theme goes way harder than Metatron's own, so he wins in that department as well. The battle is important narratively as well, due to it being the final test of Lucifer's to see if you're truly worthy of becoming his demonic general- it shows a lot of trust in Beelzebub that Lucifer would send out the fly to battle the Demi-Fiend.

Overall, though, Beelzebub is a demon of many names, many titles, and many fans, and it's easy to see why. Both fascinating historically and in the series itself, Beelzebub may be one of the best demons in the whole series, period. Now, with that over with... where did I put that bottle of bug spray?

Oh, there it is. Sorry, Beelzebub.

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