#fallen angel fic
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Maybe in Another Life We Would Hate Each Other a Little Less
A chance encounter sheds a little light on Adam that Lucifer couldn't have predicted, leading to a moment he thought he'd never have with the man.
Notes (Aka my thoughts while writing):
God is a dick and I wanna kill xem
Adam folds his wings like a bird because monkey see monkey do
Both these guys were traumatised by the same person and we don’t talk about it enough
Probably Guitarduck/Adamsapple but in a fledgeling platonic kinda way
Refer to my ref for what Adam looks like!
I listened to Rät while writing this and- it kind of fits Adam???
Jesus is God’s favourite child and it fucking shows
How tf did this become a sickfic????
Lucifer gets the experience of being me whenever I make the impulsive move to boot up Char.ai and talk to literally any of the AI’s, get aunt agonied bitch.
Oh my god Adam has middle child syndrome.
Can you tell I attended a Christian school when I was younger???
Adam was hiding just how fucked over he was from the wing rot but he’s not having a good time in this. Most of the latter half of the oneshot is him dazed from both the one set of wing rot and the feeling of someone touching his wing.
Shit emergency wing HC for Adam ig: His wings grow warmer corresponding to his mood, as in when he is in general happier his wings radiate warmth and when he’s in a foul mood they’re just normal or even a little cooler.
In saying that yes Lucifer’s wings glow when he’s happy
Word Count: 1902
Fic under cut!
“Fucking- Shit!”
Lucifer paused, looking behind him and backing up to peek through the crack in the door. This ought to be good.
Sure enough, he was right, this was entertaining.
Adam was ranting again.
Honestly it was a nearly daily thing by this point, probably the only good thing about his daughters decision to let Adam stay at the hotel. He loved his daughter, he really did, by Adam was… Adam.
Lucifer knew he was a lost cause.
But still, didn’t mean Lucifer couldn’t tease the hell out of the man since he was stuck down here with the rest of them.
Lucifer’s smirk at watching the first man rant quickly died as he took in the guys appearance, he looked…
“What is wrong with your wings.”
Adam jerked and twisted around, scowling at him and oops he said that out loud didn’t he.
“Piss off!”
Lucifer, in his typical fashion, did not piss off and instead entered the room, “No seriously what is wrong with your wings.”
Now that he was closer, the king was certain they didn’t look like that a week ago. The feathers, while already having looked like a wreck were duller and the colours seemed almost… muted. Ignoring the already horrific state Adam’s wing were in, they shouldn’t look THAT bad so why…
“Wait-”
“I said-!”
“Have you not been preening you wings?”
Adam went silent, staring wide eyed at Lucifer much to the kings confusion. A beat passed, then two.
“What the fuck is preening?”
Lucifer blinked, he wasn’t serious, was he?
Surely not.
.
.
.
“By the heavens you’re dead serious.”
“What the fuck are you talking about.”
Lucifer debated whether he should explain it or not. On one hand, it’s Adam. On the other, Wings were a serious thing. He’d even seen Husker cleaning his wings from time to time, for Adam to just not know…
“You know what? For once my hatred of you is outweighed by my need to show you what’s what,” The fallen seraphim huffed, closing the door behind him and summoning a chair to block it from the outside so Adam couldn’t escape. “Come on we’re fixing this travesty.”
“What part of fuck off you do you not understand?!” The first man snapped, his wings mantling as Lucifer rifled through the closet, dragging out one of the many jars of oil he’d had the foresight to put in most of the rooms, perks of being a guy with basic common sense.
“The part where you’re being stupid and my daughter started rubbing off on me,” Lucifer shot back, his own wings serving well to corral Adam towards the bed, “How you don’t know how to preen your wings is beyond me but that’s ending today.”
“Again- what are you blabbering about.”
Lucifer paused, hand hovering just over Adams feathers. Preening someone elses wings was… intimate. It was something reserved for friends, family, lovers, and stuff… not enemies. Was he really going to just go ahead and clean Adams wings for him?
The seraphim’s eyes flicked over to where the ruined wing was draped over the bed. The wing was already in bad enough shape as it was, if he didn’t do this then wing rot was bound to hit it at some point and-
He didn’t really have a choice, not if he didn’t want to watch someone die of wing rot again.
Adam went stiff under Lucifers touch as he started work on the mans functioning wing, it was the easiest to work with, not the mention the safest to start with. The injured wing would no doubt be sensitive to any interaction, so better to start small.
Ish.
Adam shuddered as Lucifer moved between feather’s, periodically reapplying preening oil as he went. He was right as usual, looking closer most of the barbules had been separated and needed to be locked together again. Grimacing, the seraphim gently scratched out what looked like dried blood from where it was hidden in the base of Adam’s Secondary coverts.
“What are you doing?” Adam whispered, his voice for once lacking it’s usual bite. Lucifer paused for a second in confusion before Adam’s wing flexed back into Lucifer’s hand, “Don’t stop!”
“Okay okay!” The king huffed, working on his primaries, “What I’m doing is called preening. It’s something beings with feathers do to clean them.”
“Like birds?”
“Yeah, like birds,” Lucifer agreed, “The oil helps take care of bacteria, but you got to realign the feathers, get rid of the ones ready to moult, and fix the feathers that are out of sorts, though you can just shake the feathers to do that part quicker.”
“Mhm”
Lucifer shifted over to finally tackle the ruined wing and froze, a chill slinking down his spine. As he took in the state of the tattered appendage.
“Shit.”
This close the seraphim could see the red pimples under the thinning layer of feathers surrounding the injury, it was wing rot in its early stages.
“What?”
“Nothing!” Lucifer dove his fingers into the scapulars to shut Adam up while he discreetly conjured up some disinfectant for the rot, if he’s lucky he can treat it now and just get Charlie or Vaggie to deal with it now, knock it over the head before it becomes so visible the others can notice. He ignored Adam’s breath hitching as the seraphim started, just as predicted, the wing was sensitive from the damage done to it.
“But seriously you need to do this more, this is just horrific,” Lucifer grumbled to himself, not really caring if Adam listened, “Honestly I’m surprised this hasn’t happened to you before!”
“Mmmm tried once… I think?”
Lucifer, glanced at Adam’s face, it was pointed away from him, but he could still sense Adam’s attention was on him, “Yeah?”
“Saw the birds doin’ it and tried to copy ‘em,” Adam continued at the prompt, spreading his other wing, “It hurt so I stopped, didn’ know there was a method to this shit or someth’n.”
“You… nobody even tried to teach you?”
“I think they thought I knew,” Adam chuckled sourly, “I think they thought I fu’kin knew how to just- do this. ‘Cause I was meant to right?!” Another laugh, “I bit the fu’kin apple so I shou’da known this kinda shit! Apple of knowl’dge or what’ver.”
Lucifer, wisely, didn’t say anything, he just kept working on Adam’s ruined wing, applying the disinfectant, and fixing what few feathers were still healthy and removing the rest. If it was anyone else in this situation he’s wrap the wing and tell them to rest but… it was still Adam that was in this mess.
“I- why didn’t they teach me? Luci why didn’t they teach me this shit?”
“I… don’t know,” Lucifer replied carefully, deliberately skipping over the butchering of his name that sounded way to close to a nickname for comfort, “Come on, up you get he still got the underside to finish then I’ll be out.”
Adam grumbled but complied, sitting up a little to turn around as Lucifer summoned a pillow for Adam to lean back on. Rolling his neck Lucifer got to work on the auxiliary feathers, the lighter feathers were definitely in better shape, but then again that wasn’t exactly a high bar, and they still were looking rough.
“Jesus was prob’bly taught how to preen himself.”
Lucifer’s shoulders hitched as his wings tucked in against his back abruptly. Jesus… was a rough topic. For all sinners talked about him, Lucifer never met him but from the sinners around that time… it was never a fun conversation. Pretentious once kings cursing his name while hopeless commoners lined up for the exorcists blade, faithful until the end that Jesus would let them into heaven if they just believed in him.
… there was a pattern in there, wasn’t there. Like father like son, he supposed.
“Jesus was made from me and yet he’s God’s favourite fukin kid, course he’d fucking know how to preen,” Adam continued unimpeded, “Doesn’t matter if I was Gods first- Jesus was always fucking better than me.”
Okay! Lucifer was in no way prepared for this conversation, but he highly doubted Adam was even going to remember this conversation, so he just focused on the wings.
“…Luci, do they all hate me?”
Lucifer sincerely wished Anthony, or just anyone really would bust down the door at this moment, at least then he could get himself out of this conversation.
“Why do you think that?” the seraphim deflected, moving onto Adam’s good wing and going through his coverts.
“Because none of them ever fucking did this,” Adam waved his hand haphazardly before letting it rest on his chest, “You’re my enemy but you’re fixin’ my fu’kin wings because I’m too stupid and useless to just figure it out myself.”
“Not useless,” The words left Lucifer’s lips without his input, damn himself to double hell, but it managed to shut up Adam, so he kept on the thought train, “You’re not useless you were just never taught, it’s not your fault heaven doesn’t think.”
“Jesus-”
“Is God’s prodigal son and shouldn’t be counted.”
Adam huffed and leaned back on the pillow, “Why’re you good at this?”
“I’ve had aeon’s to learn, and over a decade of putting it in practice,” Lucifer thought about his daughter, a small smile making it’s way into his expression, she really was the best thing to happen to him.
He finished up with Adams good wing and moved onto finishing off the wrecked one. Applying the disinfectant to the infected spots on the underside before reaching for the preening oil again.
“Y’know, maybe in another life we would’ve hated each other less.”
Lucifer just laughed and started preening the wing, yeah right, maybe in a reality where the apple incident never happened, “You’re sick Adam, feverish even.”
“And you’re a wife-stealer.”
“Should have been better in bed.”
“Fuck you,”
Lucifer stuck his tongue out at the first man, earning a tired chuckle. Then the seraphim blinked at the sudden warmth radiating out from the feathers. What in the-?
“Oh… they haven’t done that in a while.”
Lucifer blinked up at Adam who was staring at his feathers in amazement, “Ackde-whuh?”
Adam leaned back and closed his eyes, “Yeah… sometimes they just get warm all of a sudden it’s weird. Hasn’t happened in a while though. Apparently it sometimes happened when Lute was around? I dunno why.”
Lucifer blinked a couple of times before letting out a small “huh” and running a hand through the ruined wing, it was definitely warmer.
Sighing, Lucifer let his hand fall away despite the wing chasing it, “Alright well your wings are definitely cleaner now, so I’ll be out of your hair now.”
The seraphim stood up to leave through the balcony, opening the window and almost stepping out when Adam called after him, still sounding exhausted.
“I can see why they left me for you.”
Lucifer paused, before smiling sardonically and looking back at Adam, who looked like he might have just passed out.
“Tell me that when you’re not delusional from illness and I might believe you.”
With that, Lucifer stepped out and left for his own room… though, if Adam woke up to a small plush duck on his nightstand, that was between Lucifer and the god that cast him down.
But there is one thing Lucifer will admit.
Maybe Charlie wasn't wrong about thinking Adam could be redeemed.
Pings:
@sleepy-hijinx @whatataha @cyborg0109 @birbisanon @legogator @overlord-rey @luckyburgerz @spiny-dogfishes @justakidicarus
#adam hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel#lucifer hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel spoilers#hazbin hotel fandom#guitarduck#platonic#written by an asexual#fluff#fallen angel adam#fallen angel#wing fic#angst#tw swearing#tw mentions of wing rot#i wrote this#I wrote with on four hours of sleep powered by caffeine and a cold#adamsapple#ashes to ashes dust to dust
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𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐊.
DAY ELEVEN OF HAUNTED HOEDOWN
prompt: cyberpunk au + fallen angel au + “i will keep hurting. i will keep killing. anything to protect you.”
pairing: fallen angel!joel miller x f!reader
genre: explicit smut, minors dni, romance
summary: you and tess go in to dismantle a cult, neither of you were expecting to find a rugged fallen angel being experimented on.
word count: 5.2k
warnings: possessive!joel, piv, creampie, breeding kink, dirty talk, violence
a/n: this was heavily inspired by miyazaki's on your mark music video! also we're almost add the end babes, only one more to go, isn't that exciting!
Ash sticks to your skin. The air is warm and damp, the scent of it churning your stomach and making you want to vomit. You observe the city as the aircraft inch closer to a particularly fancy and tall building. Purple and blue neons bleed into the night sky, blurring the sight of the stars. Both you and Tess are standing at the edge of the opening, ready to make the jump down below. You look at her and she nods with a fleeting smile.
“Let’s get these fuckers,” she says, her voice modulated as it echoes in your earpiece. “See you on the other side.”
She extends a fist and with your heart still beating madly in your chest, you bump it. Without speaking, she counts down, one finger going down at a time. Your gaze flits between the building and her hand, sweat building at your temples and sliding down your spine. You’ve heard of this place before. A religious cult famous for abducting people and in some extreme cases experimenting on them if they refused to follow the leader’s guidance.
The last finger goes down and you both jump in unison.
Your visor comes down, blocking the vicious wind from cutting your skin. Tess is slightly ahead of you, her helmet also fully materializing around her skull, brunette hair fluttering at her neck. The mission was simple. Go in and arrest who you can find, shoot those who resist.
The two of you touch down on the rooftop of the target building and quickly pull out your weapons. Tess leads the way as you both enter the building through a concealed access point. The interior pulses with a neon-laden atmosphere, where every corner is bathed in vibrant, shifting hues. Holographic information displays punctuate the surroundings, casting an ever-changing cascade of colors across the sleek, polished surfaces.
You and Tess navigate through the dimly lit corridors, guided by the faint hum of machinery and the eerie whispers of cult members echoing through the halls. The air is thick with tension, and every step feels like a potential trap. It almost feels like a labyrinth with the way the halls constantly turn and twist, you faintly hear Tess cursing from underneath her visor. You share her sentiment.
Moving deeper into the building, you finally encounter the cult's followers. They wear a strange blend of traditional robes and cybernetic enhancements, their faces obscured by eerie masks that display holographic symbols and patterns.
The confrontation escalates quickly. They don’t even have any weapons on them yet they jump you, before you can start shooting one of them gets the better of you and knocks you to the floor. Tess is there in an instant, a laser blade to the throat is all it takes for the person to go limp on top of you.
The room erupts in chaos but it doesn’t mean much to either you or Tess. This wasn’t your first mission together, and the two of you had adapted a fighting style that complimented each other’s strengths. The deafening blasts of energy illuminate the room with dazzling bursts of color. Bodies fall, and the cult's resistance begins to crumble.
You press on, determined to reach the heart of this twisted cult. Along the way, you discover hidden chambers filled with bizarre experiments and technology. You take a mental note to come back later on and investigate. The air is thick with the smell of chemicals and the unsettling hum of machinery. Tess makes a sharp turn and you follow, entering a dim room. More cult members attack you, they look like scientists, they fall just as easily as the rest.
“What the hell is this place?” Tess mutters, walking ahead and looking around. A blue hue coats the entirety of the room, the sound of liquids making up for most of the background noise.
You notice a table right in the middle and without a second thought you head towards it, ignoring Tess’s warnings to be careful. Something draws you to it. To him. Your pulse quickens as you notice a man lying on top of the metal surface, eyes closed, seemingly sleeping. His chest is bare, the lower half of his body covered with a thin, dark pair of sweatpants.
He’s beautiful. Rugged features scorned with cuts and bruises, but still stunning. His hair is a mess, lips chapped. He’s barely breathing, a sudden worry surrounds your heart, turns your stomach sour.
“Hey, check it out,” Tess says, walking around the table. Her hand moves over a lifeless wing, feathered and dark as night. You hold your breath, eyes going wide. “Do you think these are real?”
You don’t touch the wings, feeling like it might be disrespectful to the handsome man. You eye them warily and think about all the things these maniacs must’ve done to him. “They look real to me,” you murmur. “What should we do?”
“What do you mean?”
“If we bring him with us surely the government will experiment on him too,” you point out. “He’s been through enough.”
Tess drops the wing and raises an eyebrow, “You in love with him or something?” she shakes her head. “We really need to find you some good dick.”
“That’s not what this is,” you hiss, cheeks burning up. “You know it’s not right. He can stay at my place.”
“And you think they won’t come looking for him?”
“They can’t look for something they don’t know that exists.”
Tess contemplates your words for a moment and you worry this might be where she draws the line. Her kind eyes flit between you and the half-naked man, then her shoulders drop, yielding, she lifts her hands.
“Fine, let’s get this hunk of meat out of here.”
However, neither you nor Tess had calculated how heavy he would be.
“Holy fuck, how much does he weigh?” Tess groans, holding him by the ankles. You had your hands tucked under his armpits, barely keeping him from dropping to the steel ground.
“Maybe the wings add to it,” you answer, short of breath. Using the strength from your knees, you jerk him up so your arms can get a better grip. Sweat beads at your temples and slides down your cheeks. “Fuck—”
“He’s gonna suck your fridge dry,” Tess huffs. “All the gadgets in the world and not one to carry a heavy. . . what is he? A damn bird?” she shook her head. “I don’t think I wanna know.”
“If you could shut up for two seconds,” you say, gasping for air. “This might be easier. Besides, we’re at the door.”
“Oh fuck, we actually are.”
Tess manages to kick it open and you both peer down the rooftop, you hold on to the unconscious man tighter, scared he might fall.
“What now?” you shout from over the wind.
“Now,” Tess says, her gaze meeting yours, she flashes you a smirk. “We jump.”
Despite the multiple rules you’ve broken by taking in Joel—a fallen angel he’d explained when he woke up, much to your disbelief— to your home a week ago, your mornings start surprisingly calm. You have a small apartment and as you head to the kitchen, you watch the trickles of the morning light warming the floors. You enjoy these silent hours in the city. No bright neon light burning your eyes, no constant buzz of huge billboards humming in your ears; just the sun, the soft sound of birds chirping and soft wind carrying notes of clattering dishes.
You fill the kettle with water and place it on the stove, turning the flame on to let it slowly come to a boil. While waiting, you reach for your favorite coffee mug, the one with a chip on the handle that you can't bear to replace. As you retrieve the mocha pot from the cabinet, you notice a slight, fleeting shadow out of the corner of your eye. You turn your head to see Joel standing in the doorway, his wings tucked neatly against his back. He hadn’t been able to open his wings fully yet, his wounds too deep to heal.
A sudden anger simmers in your soul. The things he must’ve endured and all for what? For a bunch of people to feel good about themselves? For the to find out how to be immortal? All of it was absolute bullshit.
You pull out another mug.
His dark eyes meet yours and you swallow, a shudder rolling down your spine, “Good morning,” you choke out, pouring some ground coffee into the mocha pot's filter basket and assembling the pot. The soothing sound of the kettle on the stove fills the room as you watch Joel walk closer, his steps nearly soundless.
“Mornin’,” he grumbles, standing right behind you. His presence frying your nerves and making your hands tremble. “What’s that?”
“Coffee,” you answer. You place it on the stove and turn on the heat. “I’m making you some too. You can try it,” then you turn, eyes going wide upon noticing just how close he is. His eyes bore into yours, observing your soul and every inch of your face. Your eyes trace the bridge of his nose and linger on his lips; so lush. The divot in the middle of his bottom lip entices you to come closer but you hold your ground. “Are you hungry?”
He nods, eyes untrusting.
“Okay,” you say slowly. “I’ll make us breakfast. How are your wings feeling?”
He licks his lips, “Better.”
You nod and look towards the fridge, your lips pressed tightly together. He finally backs away, allowing you to prepare an omelet for the both of you.
Joel silently watches as you crack the eggs and mix in the basil, tomato, and cheese. He watches as you pour two cups of coffee and bring out the plates. He watches as you sit and finally turn to look at him; still standing in the kitchen, watching. . . observing.
“Come sit,” you say and pull back a second chair. “You watched me prepare it there’s no poison in it promise,” you give him a playful smile and you swear the corners of his lips twitch.
He sits and picks up his fork, you cut the omelet in half, sliding it over to his plate, “So since you never had coffee before I didn’t put any milk and sugar in it, you can taste it and if it’s too bitter I can add some.”
Joel picks up the mug, his wings slightly raising in alarm as he sniffs the hot beverage. He raises a brow, eyes meeting yours, “How do you drink yours?”
“With lots of milk.”
“I feel like that defeats the purpose,” he closes his eyes and takes a sip. He smacks his lips slowly, eyes fluttering open to give you a look. “Not bad,” he says. “I like how the taste alerts me.”
“Well,” you answer with a smile. “Don’t have too much of it or you’ll be up all night.”
“Who says I’m already not?”
You stiffen at the words, meant to be a playful quip turn real in mere seconds. Joel seems unaware of the sudden pressure forming in your shoulders, around your spine; he bites into his omelet, moaning at the taste—which adds a whole different kind of pressure. . . mostly gathered between your legs.
“Can’t you sleep?” you ask silently, looking down. “Because of. . . what they’ve done.”
Joel lowers his fork, lifting his gaze in hopes of meeting yours, he furrows his brows upon realizing your downward-looking lips and your eyes that don’t meet his.
“That’s a small part of it,” he says, the soft authority of his tone bringing your gaze back up. “I remember those moments in bits and pieces, they come and go. . . It’s the fall that still keeps me up at night. ”
“The fall from. . . heaven?”
“Yes.”
And that’s it. He continues to eat, continues to drink until all of it is wiped clean in front of him.
“Let me clean your wounds,” you say and stand up from the table. Joel hadn’t been able to fly at all since you and Tess busted him out of that hellhole. He had been reluctant to treatment but realized quickly that he needed modern medicine if he was going to get better. “I’ll be right back.”
When you come back you find him sitting on his usual stool. It was high enough so that his wings wouldn’t drag across the floor. He sits silently, eyes like those of a hawk as he watches you place the supplies on the coffee table. You start by delicately peeling off the old bandages, ensuring they don't cause any pain or pluck a feather. The only sign that he feels any discomfort is the rapid pace of his breathing
You find that you enjoy these moments of vulnerability. Some part of you doesn’t want him to go.
“Sorry,” you mumble, crumbling the old bandages and throwing them to the floor for later cleaning.
His spine straightens, “For what?”
“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“You didn’t.” a moment of silence stretches between you before he speaks again. “You saved me.”
“Tess did too,” you add, a small smile tugging at your lips. Those two had been butting heads as soon as Joel woke up.
“She told me on multiple occasions that she would’ve left me to rot.”
“That’s how Tess cares.”
“Humans still confuse me.”
You snort and begin cleaning the wound, he winces a bit, “We’re not all bad.”
You’re happy to see that he’s nearly completely healed. His red, wet wounds from before now a tender pink. Your eyes move up to his neck. You’ve always stared at his neck since the very beginning. It reminds you of the columns of old temples that now lay in ruin thanks to the new world. His sun-kissed skin is a temptation, your lips tingling with the need to feel bare skin, wondering if it’s as warm as you thought.
“I don’t think I should bandage up the wounds anymore, they should breathe,” you murmur, your voice coming out hoarser than you thought. “But still, you need to be careful.”
Joel doesn’t say a word but his wings twitch as if they can sense your sinful thoughts. Maybe they do. You have no idea how angel powers work, or if he has any.
He’ll leave soon, you remind yourself. You’ll be alone again.
You don’t know what it is that guides your hand, but you realize in shock that your fingers start to dance along the exposed skin of his nape. Indeed it is as warm as you thought. You feel the way muscles tense under your touch, hear his heavy breathing.
Reality comes crashing in and you pull away with a sudden flinch, an apology ready at your lips—
He’s fast. Inhumanly so. Joel takes a hold of your wrist and pulls you to his lap, you fall sideways with a sharp yelp. The angel doesn’t say a word and tugs your head back, exposing your neck to him. You shudder at the touch of his lips. Whimper at the way he runs his nose down your collarbone.
“I can smell the arousal on your skin,” he drawls and tastes your skin with the flat of his tongue. “I can taste it too. Such a sinful little thing.”
“I—I’m—” You’re what? Sorry? You don’t feel sorry.
“Tell me what you want.”
“You don’t have to. . .”
Joel snorts, “I know I don’t have to. I want to,” he answers, he grips at your shirt and tugs you down while grinding up, the heft of his cock rubs against the swell of your ass. You both groan at the contact. “You feel that? You feel what you’re doin’ to me?”
Your heart leaping, you guide his hand to the waistband of your sweatpants. His eyes flashing with desire, he slips his fingers under the fabric, you shudder at the drag of his fingers between your folds. Joel burrows his face into the crook of your neck, his chest rattling with a growl.
“So wet,” he musters, the pads of his fingers stroking your throbbing clit.
“Now you know what you do to me.”
His wings suddenly stretch out from one side to the other, making him look even larger if possible. Your eyes go wide, lips parting with a soft gasp. You imagine if you stare at them long enough you could see stars.
“You don’t know what I’m capable of,” he breathes, nostrils flaring. He pulls his fingers out and holds your waist in an iron grip. You whimper at the loss. “You don’t know me. This ain’t a game.”
“That’s right I don’t,” you answer. “I only know what I feel. And what I feel, Joel, is something I’ve never felt before. Something that both excites me and makes me want to run and hide because soon enough, I’m going to have to deal with it all on my own. You’ll be gone and I’ll be here, trying to gather the pieces of my bleeding heart.”
You think you might be imagining it, but his wings become a shield, caging you in. His gaze seems almost broken. Distraught. He mumbles something inaudible. Your brows furrow and you ask him to repeat himself.
“My wings are healed. I lied to you.”
You think you misheard him but at the same time you know you hadn’t. You blink rapidly. You don’t understand, how can be healed?
“You can fly?”
“I can, sweetheart.” he pulls you closer, your covered nipples grazing against his firm chest. Your breath catches in your throat. “I lied to you because. . . I don’t want to go.”
“Joel. . .”
“You still want me?” he asks, cutting you off, voice rueful. “I’m selfish. I get what I want and do anythin’ to make it happen. Why do you think I was cast out? Not exactly one of god’s favorites.”
You feel his breath on your skin as he speaks. His voice deep, dripping like sweet molasses. You brush your lips together and his chest heaves, his grip on you tightens, his cock throbbing.
“You’re my favorite,” you whisper.
The dam breaks.
You find yourself bent over the low coffee table, the wood creaking under your weight, your cheek smooshed against it. Joel holds your arms behind your back, rutting against your ass like some wild animal in heat. Arousal pools between your legs and you feel a fresh wave of wetness spreading within the threads of your underwear.
“Do you even know how to fuck?” you ask, hoping to gain some kind of edge despite the obvious difference in strength.
“Oh, sweetheart, you’d be surprised.”
He pulls down your sweats and the heft of his cock weighs heavily between your ass cheeks. Slick gathers between your folds. A soft whimper trembles in your throat. You can’t see him but you can imagine him looking down at you, seeing how desperate and needy you are. Joel parts your cheeks and presses forward, his cock gliding between your soaked tighs. He groan rattles in his chest and you feel the bulbous head of his cock stretching your entrance.
“Oh god. . . Joel. . .”
A choked-out sound drops from your lips as he wraps his fingers around your throat and pulls you up, it’s harder to breathe in this position, your body bent in a way so that your eyes can meet. He kisses your forehead.
“Not god,” he says, thrusting forward and filling you to the brim. Your face goes slack, brows pinching with pleasure and a hint of pain. Your moan is loud and long, your eyes still glued to his. You shudder at the intimacy. “It’s just me, sweetheart. No one else. I’m the only one that get’s to fuck this pussy—the only one that gets to see your face like that.”
You lick your lips and breathe heavily. When you nod, Joel releases you and you fall forward, bracing yourself with your elbows at the very last second.
“Look at you,” he groans, large hands stroking your cheeks. “Do you even know how soft and warm your insides are?”
He doesn’t expect an answer as he pulls back, your body is set a flame, pleasure building and winding you up like a doll. Your thighs shake, he just watches you drown in your lust. He’s intrigued, you think, because he just waits with the head of his cock still inside. You wiggle your ass, hoping for him to move, to fuck you senseless.
You’re reprimanded with a sharp smack to your ass but you welcome the pain, embrace it.
You can’t see it yet you feel it. The vicious drip of his spit on your stretched-out hole. You shiver and your eyes roll back into your skull, his thumb traces where you two connect, smearing his saliva, “J—Joel, please,” you beg but you know it’s futile. He’s going to take you apart only to piece back together.
“You still think I don’t know how to fuck?” he hisses, a cruel taunt you didn’t expect. You shake your head and close your eyes. Another smack follows, prompting the clench of your cunt. He groans.
Joel finally gives you what you want. What you need.
His pace is brutal, fast and hard, desperate, just like you feel. He knocks the air from your lungs with every thrust, the smack of his hips bruising. Joel has no shame in the voices he makes, he groans, moans and fucks you harder, forcing you to be loud with him. When you let out a particularly high-pitched whimper, he covers your body with his own like a blanket and ruts into you. His wings rustle and shake, the tip of it touching your lips before it moves away. You see bright starts when he grazes upon a particularly sensitive spot, your jaw dropping and body tensing. He mouths at your neck, hand sliding between your legs, the pads of his fingers brush against your puffy clit—
A knock. A loud one at that.
The sound startles you both into stillness, and you let out a hiss from under your breath. You’ve forgotten that Tess was going to come by. Apologetically you reach back and manage to squeeze Joel’s thigh, your fingers sliding over the muscle from sweat. Joel understands that this will have to wait but instead of letting you go like you expected, he lifts you up from the coffee table, your back flush against his chest. You both face the door and another knock follows, your body tensing.
“I’m not gonna stop fuckin’ you for no one,” he groans, pushing even deeper. Your head falls to his shoulder and your nipples tight. “She can come back.”
“Joel, she might hear us,” you hiss but make no move to actually stop him. You feel him smirking against your skin. He slowly draws his hips back and thrusts into you—hard. Your body jerks and you cover your mouth last second before a moan can slip out.
“That’s it, just keep quiet and she’ll be none the wiser.”
Tess’s voice calls out your name through the door and knocks again, louder this time. Your eyelids flutter, your orgasm rapidly building from the thought of being caught. If Tess decides to break the door, which you don’t put past her, she’d see you in your full naked glory; your breast swaying with every ruck of Joel’s hips, your face dazed as you attempt to keep your noises to yourself. . .
“You’re so fuckin’ wet—you’re turned on, aren’t you? Filthy thing, you like the idea of your best friend seein’ you gettin’ your brains fucked out?”
You don’t dare answer and instead, you just take it. His fingers toy with your clit, swirling and drawing shapes over and over until your entire body is trembling and your core is tight. Joel’s hips stutter, pacing frantic, “Yes yes yes yes—come for me, sweetheart. I wanna feel you so bad, come on, that’s it—that’s it—”
It happens both suddenly and torturingly slow. Your body locks up and you squeeze around him, gushing and moaning helplessly into your palms. Your nostrils flare. Joel holds you tight, preventing you from accidentally jerking away and falling face-first into the table, you think Tess is still knocking but it soon ends. Your body is quivering, slick dripping, and sliding down his length. He kisses your cheek, then drags his lips down to your neck, sucking the sensitive skin.
He starts to move again, “Joel,” you whimper and he stops, lips decorating your skin with more kisses. “I want you to come inside me.”
You swear his cock swells even more.
“Yeah?” he sounds amazed, almost. “You want me to fill this pretty pussy up?”
“Please.”
“A’right sweet girl, I will, I will,” he bites the tender flesh of your shoulder, hips drilling into you even harder than before. Your brain short circuit. Your poor, sensitive cunt tingling with overstimulation. With every snap of his hips you feel slick gushing from your core and your hands fully drop from your mouth, your body pliant with pleasure.
It doesn’t take Joel long to come undone. He fucks into you one last time and keeps you still on his cock. Another orgasm rips from you at the pressure, his come filling you with violent, desperate spurts. His hips twitch. Joel licks the salt off your skin and then kisses the damp skin. You sigh with relief, hand dropping to your stomach. It feels good. So fucking good for him to claim you in such an intimate way.
“Mine,” he growls, fingers biting into the flesh of your stomach. Again, his wings form a shield around you, trapping you two together.
You smile and thread his fingers with your own, “Yours.”
Note to self, always go to the door when Tess comes over.
But honestly, how the hell were you supposed to know that she came over to warn you?
You’ve seen the text first. You were out on the street doing some quick shopping before you returned home to Joel, however, before you could process what she had written you were surrounded. Familiar symbols of the cult decorated their suits and before you knew it, your vision blacked out.
When you open your eyes once more, you notice that your hands are bound to the ceiling to keep you up. You hear the familiar buzz of the purple binds, much stronger and deadlier than regular rope. The back of your head throbs, an unpleasant pressure behind your eyes, you hiss and look down.
The door opens.
“Where is he?” a man with a white mask asks, stepping into the dingy cell.
You raise your gaze, “Who?”
You can’t see his face but you know he’s angry underneath the cheap plastic. He balls his hands into tight fists and before you know it, his knuckles hit you square in the jaw. You groan and spit up blood.
“Where. Is. He.”
You cough, the taste of iron overwhelming your taste blood. Still, you don’t yield. You look him straight in the eye and force a broken smile.
“Who?”
Joel knew all of it was too good to be true.
The good food, the sex, the woman who loved him despite what and who he was—it should’ve tipped them off that it was only the calm before the storm. The solitude before ruin. He’d seen it many times before, why had he ignored it now?
His eyes narrow and his wings fold, aiding his sharp dive to the building Tess had described. The wind slices at his cheeks, deafens him.
Joel knows why he ignored it.
It was because he was happy for the first time in forever.
He crashes through the glass ceiling, shards of it bursting across the hard marble floor. He sees familiar people in suits covered in symbols. Joel snarls at them, his wings close to him. They’re the same people that imprisoned him—and now they had found the only thing he cared about to lure him into the wolf's den. Well, his capture won’t be easy this time.
He’ll make them pay. He’ll make them all pay.
Joel spreads out his wings and watches the foot soldiers cower in fear. He feels the dark energy pulsing in his palms, adding to his strength, and without a second thought he unleashes it, sharp arrows of darkness spearing their hearts, making them see their worst nightmares before falling.
He kills, kills, and kills. They all feel his eternal pain before they fall, a fall that is much kinder than the one he had to endure. Joel leaves a trail of corpses on his way to you, his heart locked in fear of what might have happened to you.
Joel senses you—your fear, your pain, your hope. He follows those strong feelings. You lead him to a hard steel door, and with the flat of his palm, the door turns to dust.
Joel’s heart stops beating.
You’re strung to the ceiling, your temple caked with blood, your body battered and bruised. You can barely breathe, your lips parting with short gasps.
His rage is sudden and blinding. His shoulders raise with his wings, he sees the other man in the room with you, his gloved hands wet with your blood. The man turns to grab a weapon but Joel doesn’t grant him the favor. In the blink of an eye, he’s in front of him, his hands on his jaw, he forces the snap of his neck, a sickening crack echoing in the small chamber.
He deserved something worse than death for hurting you, momentarily Joel regrets giving him the easy way out.
“Joel,” your voice drags him away from his thoughts, his heart breaks at how soft it is. “Is that you?”
Joel’s wings drop. He realizes his hands are wet with blood and shadows, he shakes the shadows off but the blood remains.
“Joel?” you say again, and this time he snaps out of it fully, making his way towards you. He cradles your cheeks, kisses you deep before shattering the cuffs around your wrists. You sigh when you feel the familiar broad chest against your cheek, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “Joel.”
“It’s me,” he answers. “I’m—I’m sorry I couldn’t get here sooner.”
“It’s okay, it’s not your fault. In the end, you got here, didn’t you? That’s what matters.”
He should’ve come sooner. Shouldn’t have waited around for Tess, he should’ve broken into every building and burned this city down until he found you. Leaving the chamber, Joel is careful not to make any sudden movements. His eyes soften, a hard knot in his throat when you nuzzle into him while he carries you away.
“I’ve got you now, sweetheart. You’re safe, you’re safe,” his grip tightens around you. “I will keep hurting. I will keep killing. Anything to protect you. Never again.”
His steps come to a sudden halt as he feels your weak touch on his cheek. Joel looks down in worry but you’re smiling, his chest lightens.
“Same goes for me,” you say, voice hoarse. “They can break every bone but I’ll never let them take you. Never again.”
Joel looks at your weathered body. Humans were always so fragile, so prone to death. You’re nothing but a speck of dust compared to the dangers that lurked in this world—compared to him. But human resilience has always been something that immortals had feared.
He smiles and nods.
Joel firmly believes, deep within his heart, that he is safe as long as you’re here with him.
#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x fem!reader#joel miller smut#joel miller au#fallen angel au#tlou fic#the last of us fanfiction#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal character fanfiction#hauntedhoedown#haunted hoedown
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mythical beings! ateez as your boyfriend
pairing. ateez x reader
genre. mdni, crack! (except for yunho bc it's a forbidden love! trope and i take that seriously) fluff? a dash of angst if you squint. smut (for san bc he's an incubus! rawr)
warnings. MYTHICAL BEINGS INFO INACCURACIES (i'm sorry), grammatical errors SMUT! unprotected sex (don't do this), creampie, corruption kink if you squint, overstimulation, the term 'good girl' lmao, yea i think that's it (it's my first time writing smut don't hv high hopes)
word count. almost 4k whoops i got carried away
note. idk what possessed me when i wrote yunho's part so apologies if it's too long and very much plot-y<3 ++ my brain's still muddled from a week of midterms and im still new to writing so pls lower ur expectations before pressing the keep reading button thanks xx (my asks are always open! ++ feedback would be greatly appreciated)
masterlist
hongjoong — demon
honestly the coolest demon ever
he'd be so nonchalant about his demon activities that it would unsettle you sometimes
"hey babe, just got home?"
"yeah, had an emergency meeting with the devil about potentially crashing heaven's weekly parties, no biggie. how was your day? :-D"
likes to grumble about how hell is so overpopulated that it feels hotter than it actually is
he's just a demon with a tough exterior but that all comes crashing down when he comes back home to your arms
would do ANYTHING to make you happy
one time you were both cuddling on the sofa just absentmindedly enjoying hongjoong's playlist played throughout the house when you suddenly asked,
"joong, aren't demons supposed to have horns?"
he looked at you and thought for a second, "hm, i'm pretty sure only the devil has horns. i guess that's another myth debunked"
you returned his gaze with mock disapointment, jutting out your bottom lip in a pout. "that's a shame. i think it's really hot."
the next day he shows up with a red devil horn headband on his head
...
"joong, what is this--," you let out a laugh when he turns to face you with a serious look on his face
the blush on the apples of his cheeks redden when you continue to laugh with the brightest grin that crinkles your eyes
he doesn't mind that he's making a fool out of himself as long as he gets to see you like this
"they were 50% off in the costume shop!"
he feels a smile creep into his face when you laugh a little bit harder
seonghwa — vampire
you first met seonghwa at a random halloween party
he was surprise surprise !! dressed as a vampire, and you were dressed as kim possible (call me beep me if you wanna reach me)
he just suddenly went up to you and complimented your outfit
so you were like, "thanks!! :-D i like your fangs, they look so real!"
and he just went, "hey thanks! they are real :-D"
"what :-D"
anyways!!! you started dating not too long after that <3
he'd just be one of the most dramatic vampires out there
he's the type to dramatically hiss and cover his face when you draw open the curtains in the morning
"gAaAaaGHh the sun!!!!! i'm burning!!!!!!!!"
and you'd just stand there like ...... "seonghwa you have a morning class today"
(yes, vampire! seonghwa goes to uni)
"can you believe this place doesn't have any vampire-friendly mirrors?? it's 2022!!! D-:<"
:-|
lives and breathes the twilight saga
one time you were walking home together and you noticed his skin sparkling
and no it's not the sun shining on him or the natural glow you'd get from sweat or oily skin because his skin was particularly BLINDING
he was excitedly talking about how his favorite professor complimented him on his recent project when you interrupted him, "hwa, wait a minute--"
three of your fingers swipe at his nape and actual arts & craft glitter came off his skin
"hwa, did you actually try to edward cullen-ficate yourself???"
pink dusted his cheeks and he could only abashedly scoff while trying his hardest to avoid eye contact with you
"psssshhh, what?! noooo,,, aha... what kinda weirdo would do that ahaha, whaaat? that's so weird.."
and then he used his super speed to run back to your shared appartment leaving you to walk back home ALONE >:-(
but besides that, he's super sweet
would let you leave fingerprint stains on his glass cabinets that encase his virginity corner star wars lego collection
HE LOVES YOU THAT MUCH OKAY
yunho — angel
he doesn't have a visible halo over his head but everyone just knows that he's an angel
sweetest, purest dude out there
but yunho kinda feels... trapped
his angel wings became this constant admonition that he has to be selfless and to always do "good"
i'd just imagine everyone telling yunho to stay away from you (a fellow angel) because you're labelled as this reckless troublemaker
but he just can't help being interested in you
so he made effort to know you and keep you close and in turn, you taught him that he doesn't have to live in fear of stepping out of the line sometimes
that it's okay to put yourself first
you both would sneak away to earth and pose as humans to have fun and abandon your duties for a while
he finds himself cherishing each and every moment he spent with you; exploring things the other angels would frown upon, but it didn't matter
so it didn't surprise him when he realized that he's utterly in love with you
his angel wings fluttered sporadically when you softly mutter your love to him in reciprocation with the beautiful smile he's known to love
when you made love for the first time, it was filled with shy giggles and soft reassurances because you're each other's firsts
you neither yunho cared about the other angels avoiding you and talking shit about you two. you're both happy and in love!!
but of course, heaven has its rules
and fate hits you with the truth, that you both can't be together, when you're held back from running to your lover that has both fear and tears in his eyes as black ink slowly engulf his once pure angel wings
a fallen angel, that's what they call you both. angels banished from heaven with your memories wiped and your wings rendered useless as compensation for falling in love
"i'll find you," he said. his voice remained sure yet frail in the midst of your own sobs and the chaos surrounding you both, but you heard him loud and clear. his watering eyes take in your trembling state and it breaks his heart to see you cry and try to fight against the restraints keeping you away from him because he knows that guilt is eating you alive
he knows that you blame yourself for letting him in, for falling in love with him, and for bringing this inevitable consequence upon him
but he knows that he'd do it all over again in a heartbeat, even if it leads to this very same ending
yeosang — fae
a tsundere! fae omg i have the vision i see it
he acts cold and indifferent towards you but all you wanna do is grab his attention!!!!!
as humans and faes don't really get along, your group of friends are different and they kinda disagree with you both interacting
but you don't really care because you mayhaps have a crush on him :3
he's really good with magic
you'd ooh and ahh whenever he does something with his magic and his cheeks would go red while he brushes it off with, "it's nothing" (and you're like no!! it's cool!!! and he would blush harder)
he knows you have a crush on him because a) it's obvious, and b) you've confessed to him multiple times (his replies always start with a "sorry, but.." and you would always reply with "it's okay, i just want to tell you. i'm not asking you to return your feelings:-)"
but lately you're kind of tired with the unreciprocated feelings you have for yeosang because.. well, you just feel pathetic
so one day you made it your mission to stop having feelings for him!!!!!!
yeosang noticed because you would avoid him like the plague
he was walking down the hallway when he saw you and was about to greet you when he saw you run to hide behind a trash can that doesn't even cover your entire figure
he was just like .... ok see you later i guess?
and this continued on for weeks! to the point where he feels down because he doesn't have his favorite human around and maybe because he has a crush on you too
so he dragged his ass to the nearest supermarket for humans and ignored all the weirded stares he got from other shoppers and bought all of your favorite snacks and drinks that are listed at the top of his head
he placed them all nicely in this cute paper bag and left it at the desk you always sit in for one of your shared classes
the happy grin on your face when you peeked at its contents lifted his mood even though you wouldn't know it's from him because he purposely left the sender anonymous in the small note for you
but you immediately know that it's him because you've listed these specific snacks only to him, plus the sweet wording of the note just gave him away (you knew it that he's actually sweet inside, you knew it!!)
anyways,, the reason why yeosang is so hesitant to make a move on you is because relationships between humans and faes are disapproved of:-( he doesn't want you hurt just because you're seen with him
but one day he saw you being circled by a bunch of faes and there's this look on your face that screams 'help!'
he felt his legs move to push his way to get to you before he fully registered on what's going on
one of the faes reached out to shove off yeosang when he put himself in between you and them to protect you. "man, why the fuck are you defending a human?"
"she's my girlfriend."
so yeah all fucks flew out the window that day and you both decided to start dating:-D
he's still into the tsundere act but you like to tease him because this man gets flustered over the tiniest things lmao
you'd like bicker lazily over something and you'd go, "mhm, but you love me don't you?"
and his ears, cheeks, and neck would get so red as if he's got the worst case of asian flush lmao and he'd look around the whole room just to avoid your gaze
"shut up" *still blushing*
san — incubus
you accidentally summoned him when you were trying to sell your soul to the devil in exchange for a 4.0 gpa
he just suddenly appeared on top of your coffee table lying down on his side with his elbow propping up his head
and you just kinda went, "ok great, how do we do this thing? do i have to sign papers or smth???"
he just looks at you all confused like ??? we don't need any of those, we can just fuck
and you're like WHAT! >:-o and he's like ... what do you expect from summoning an incubus? :-|
"A WHAT???"
anyways, the misunderstanding was set straight and san sheepishly asked if he could stay over for just 1 night because he can't go back to hell just yet
(he can actually go back to hell just fine but he just can't bring himself to face incubi! ateez's teasings for being rejected for the first time ever)
and you thought hm why not
he somehow stayed over for more than just that one night and then you guys fell in love!!!
it all started after the first night when you cooked pancakes for breakfast
san groggily woke up from the couch when he smells the strangely appetizing scent of whatever you're making
"oh great, you're awake! good morning!" you greet, while the raven haired boy dazedly blinks at your sight bustling in the kitchen before letting out a raspy 'morning' in return
you hear his feet clad in the thick fuzzy socks you lent him pitter patter against the hardwood floors as he made his way towards you with a yawn, "what are you doing?"
"i'm making us breakfast :-)"
demons don't eat actual food but san would hate to see your smile falter even the tiniest bit at his rejection of this unfamiliar food that you call 'pancakes'
his plate of pancake is cutely decorated with fresh berries and a smiley face drawn with maple syrup on top of the first layer of pancake
(he can't help but smile when you impatiently gesture at him to take a bite while your own plate of pancakes sit in front of you, forgotten)
you show him how to use his cutleries properly and he finally eats a bite of the pancake
"is it good?" you ask nervously, wide eyes waiting to catch his reaction
his eyebrows furrow as he shut his eyes at the pleasant sweetness overcoming his taste buds, "oh my god, i could eat this every day. are you a professional chef or something?"
your eyes sparkle as you grow flustered over his compliment, replying with a timid 'no' and san thinks you just might be sweeter than the maple syrup coating his tongue
he's the sweetest bf ever; would exaggerate his reactions at anything you do because it would elicit a cute giggle that would bring a smile to his face
but yknow
don't forget that he's an incubus
"You're doing so good for me."
San likes it when you're laid out all bare underneath him, hair fanned out prettily on the bed, with your cheeks flushed and your eyes threatening to flutter shut.
"Baby," he taps lightly against your cheek, momentarily distracting you away from the heavenly feeling of him dragging against every inch of your walls as he continues to snap his hips to meet yours. "Hey, eyes on me."
A whine spills out of your lips as you try and fail to force your eyes open, back arching and eyes rolling back instead, earning a tsk from San as he continues to bury his cock deeper by forcing your aching thighs apart and against your chest.
His thumb caresses your swollen clit lightly, your eyes immediately widening as you gasp at the overstimulation from the previous orgasms he's taken just from eating you out. Your body trembles as you wail underneath him, reaching out to grip his arm that prevents your thighs from closing shut. San groans when he feels your pussy clench tightly around him.
"There you are," he lazily smirks, cupping your cheek and giving you a peck on the lips when he finds that your dazed gaze is on him. "Fuck, you look so pretty like this."
"So wet, so tight, so pretty for me," his measured thrusts turns harsh as he fucks up into your dripping cunt with your moans and bouncing tits egging him on.
"I'm- I'm gonna cum!" you cry out as San fondles your clit, reveling in the tight grip of your pussy and the dirty words that come out of your sweet mouth as you gush uncontrollably around his cock.
San groans loudly as his hips sloppily thrusts a few more times before he fills you up with his second load of the day, twitching and spurting his thick warm cum inside you as he holds you while he comes down from his high.
He slips his softening cock out of your battered pussy, cream immediately leaking from your centre and dripping down your ass and inner thighs as you whine at the loss.
"God," San moans as he drags two of his fingers over your weeping cunt, his other hand softly pressing against your lower belly. He slides his fingers over your dripping slit, gathering his cum leaking from your hole to your clit, rubbing and pinching.
With a cry, your thighs shake as tears well up in your eyes at the feeling of another orgasm that washes over you, swollen cunt clenching around nothing that has his cum oozing out of you. You whimper at the overstimulation, batting away his hand that continues to brush over your inner thigh.
San pulls you into a tender kiss as he gently caress your cheek and finally leans back to catch his breath. His eyes glaze over your fucked out state and he smiles at the fond look you give him.
"Such a good girl," he softly praises, carefully cleaning you up with the warm cloth he took from the bathroom. You hum in reply, shutting your eyes with a content smile at your lips. You can't see him, but he grins anyways.
"I'm a lucky man."
mingi — werewolf
i kid you not, this mf would deadass unashamedly howl in public at random
"it's who i am, yn."
are you embarrassed? yes.
will you ever let him know that you feel absolutely mortified whenever strangers stare at you after your boyfriend basically barked?
never.
he might be a big ! absolutely not bad ! werewolf but he's actually so soft >:-( especially for you
gives the best hugs
he's just so big and warm which is why you always look for him to cuddle
gives the funniest reactions like fr,, which is why you LOVE to tease him
"mingi," "mhm?" "...you know that i'm always here for you right? i.. i won't judge if you,,, idk, want to keep your ears and tail in your human form--" "yn, for the last time, I'M NOT A FURRY"
omg you showed him the werewolf ripping shirt meme and he went error 404 because he doesn't know whether he should laugh or cry ("YN IS THIS HOW HUMANS SEE WEREWOLVES???? SOB")
would embody jacob's iconic lines from twilight
"bella ¬‿¬ where the hell have you been loca? ¬‿¬"
"..."
but yeah he's such a playful boyfriend but also has his sensitive moments
and he's such a sappy romantic
would randomly bring home a bouquet of flowers for you
"what's this for? i'm pretty sure our anniversary was two months ago"
"just passed by a florist and i thought of you :-)"
"also, our anniversary was three months ago, OH MY GOD YN HOW COULD YOU FORGET" "I'M SORRY, IT WAS JUST A MISCALCULATION!!!"
yeah don't mess with the math genius! werewolf because he will correct you in any chance he gets
(i'm so sorry idk anything about werewolves so i can't really take this seriously T_T)
wooyoung — mermaid
found out he can grow legs whenever his tail dries and that's how he ventured to land!
he's always been interested with humans so when he saw you hanging around in the beach one day, it was love at first sight
he gets so excited over every human activity, it's endearing
"woah, what is that?? :o" "oh, that's a guy riding a bike" "what's a bike?"
endless questions about anything human related but you patiently answer each and every one of them
you're basically his tour guide
you introduced him to movies and his favorite is the little mermaid
he's so serious about it
like literally you have to remind him to blink because he would not let his gaze stray from your tv
"ariel is so me. minus the overprotective dad. and the 6 sisters. and ursula. and probably the talking fish and crab"
"how can the evil sea witch be so EVIL? THIS IS CRUEL"
"hey i want a pet dog like max! :0"
"ERIC JUST KISS THE FUCKING GIRL--"
would 100% reenact the fork hair brushing scene
would also 100% tell secrets about the ocean to you
"yeah the bermuda triangle thing? it's a lair to this one mean kraken"
but sometimes he would say the most untrue stuff ever like
"aquaman is real." "no he's not, woo. he's a dc superhero" "no, really, he's real. we've raced against each other once or twice" "mhm, whatever you say"
loves to watch the sunset in the beach with you with his head on your lap, your fingers running through his hair, and his toes curled in the sand
he likes it. a lot.
but he has to make sure that he doesn't touch wet sand because poof his tail would pop out
likes to chill in your bathub with the end of his tail flapping water at you
also likes to swim with you in the ocean late at night, when no one's around, with his arms wrapped around your waist and sneaking in atleast a hundred kisses while you giggle because the scales of his tail tickles your legs
the cutest mermaid! boyfriend ever
jongho — demigod
would bet my left kidney that he'd be the son of apollo or athena
but let's go with apollo because his vocals man goddamn
anyways
you're the child of nike, the goddess of victory
jongho sees you around a lot in camp half-blood, you're well known because of your bright and outgoing personality that almost everyone gravitate towards
your peers, jongho included, also admire you for your bravery in battles. although he's never been in one let alone see you fight in an actual life-or-death situation, he sees enough from how you always gracefully win capture the flag with a infectious grin on your face
unlike you, he likes to keep to himself at most times, preferring to spend his time alone to write music or poetry
which is why it's hard for him to muster up the courage to try and be your friend
he didn't dwell on it for too long, accepting that maybe he's just meant to stand at the sides and admire from afar when it comes to you
one night, he was in his usual secret spot; a small clearing near the lake with a hammock tied between two towering trees hidden from sight, when you stumbled into his view with tear stained cheeks
"oh, uh, i'm sorry," you sniffled, rubbing your nose with the paws of your sweater. "i didn't think anyone would be here. i'll go--"
"you can stay. i don't mind."
and that's how you go on to tell him about how battles leave a toll on you and this is your way of taking a break once in a while
he listened to you attentively, actually paying attention to what you have to say and even wiped your tears with the sleeve of his hoodie
that night was then filled with genuine laughter as jongho tried his hardest to cheer you up
"but in all seriousness, i'm here for you. whenever you need me."
it started a whole routine of you both meeting up every single night in that spot to either talk about everything all at once or to just enjoy each other's presence in a comfortable silence
he eventually shares his writings with you and you kinda went, "dang i'm in love with you"
and he's like ★_★ omfg no way
he's the type of bf who doesn't outwardly show his affection for you but makes up for it by caring about you down to the most trivial miniscule detail about you
definitely an act of service guy
would stop by the training grounds where you are when it's raining with an umbrella at hand
"come here, you'll get sick" "i'm the child of the goddess of victory, jongho" "doesn't mean you can't get sick!!!! ＼(º □ º l|l)/"
you ask him to sing for you all the time because his voice is soothing and he would blush whenever you compliment him hehe
the other kids at camp would stare enviously at you two holding hands while skipping to your designated spot because wow you two are so in love and everyone wants that kind of relationship
#oops... i didn't even realize i wrote so much#anyways! choose your favorite#mine would have to be fallen angel yunho</3#ateez#ateez fanfic#ateez fluff#ateez smut#ateez angst#ateez crack#ateez reactions#ateez scenarios#ateez x reader#ateez imagines#ateez fic#san smut#yunho angst#ateez halloween#hongjoong#seonghwa#yunho#yeosang#san#mingi#wooyoung#jongho#ateez funny
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The Boundless Echoes of Liminal Skies
AO3
Relationship: Aziraphale/Crowley
Summary:
Aziraphale bears witness to the Fall of the Starmaker and finds himself helpless to look away from his transformation. Forever changed, the two weave a complex, millennia-spanning web of moral ambiguity, mutually repressed longing, and combating powerlessness in the face of human tragedy.
It was the day of their judgment and God was nowhere to be seen. As of late that had become an increasing normality but Aziraphale was surprised nonetheless. The circumstances were anything but ordinary. After all, Lucifer, God's most beloved prince, was to be cast out of heaven at any moment.
He and the others watched from the wings as the legion of rebellious angels knelt upon the sterile white floor under the Metatron's scorching gaze, Lucifer at the forefront. His eyes scanned over those before him with incredibly deep anguish at the angels (now devils) with whom he would never have the opportunity to form friendships. He couldn't understand why anyone would turn away from good so vehemently that they would literally fracture the unity of Heaven.
Still, he forced himself to pay careful attention to the faces before him as the Metatron passed down his judgment, listing a scroll's-worth of crimes that had, so far, taken nearly a day to read over. There was no protest. There was no defense. There are some things even Heaven could not forgive. Or wouldn’t.
Aziraphale’s eyes fell upon a burst of bright red hair, the likes of which he'd only ever seen once before. The Starmaker; he had never asked his name and now he never would. He remembered though, standing beside him watching nebulas and stars erupt before them, whose lights and radiance humans’ far-off invented fireworks could never begin to compare. He had been inextricably moved by the event and then he’d never seen him again. Until this moment.
Aziraphale had found the Starmaker quite odd. He had, of course, said things aloud that terrified Aziraphale even just to think… Even though in his deepest heart of hearts, he agreed. It was an absolute terrible waste to obliterate such uncompromised beauty. Despite the tremendous fear he’d felt from his questions, Aziraphale had found him beautiful. He'd never admit it but even with the birth of the stars erupting before his eyes, he had struggled to look away from the angel whose warm, brown eyes flashed with the crackle of galaxies forming light-years away. Aziraphale's chest was tight as he watched the Fallen angel glare despondently at the bleached white floor under his knees, his robes frayed and torn from the guardians’ vicious corralling.
It had seemed like ages ago. However, when you were of the celestial body, time flowed differently. It could have been just a day for all one could tell. The vibrant smile that had graced the Starmaker’s face then was nowhere to be found as his judgment was handed down. Aziraphale couldn't recall seeing the traitorous angel on the battlefield. He may have just been lost in the distance, obscured by the glare of his flaming sword but if he had really not been there... Well, that would mean that he'd neither hurt Heaven nor helped the Fallen angels. Aziraphale wasn't sure what that would mean.
He thought of the questions the angel asked that had mirrored those he, himself, had carried in his mind, with more than a little shame. Was voicing those questions really all it took for one to be evil? When he had warned the red-haired angel of the trouble of his vocal criticisms of the Great Plan, he had never imagined this would be his punishment.
The angel suppressed a shudder and a ruffle of his wings. He vowed to himself, in that moment, to never put himself in that kind of position. He wasn't entirely sure what their punishment would look like but disconnection from the Heavenly host seemed terribly frightening, in and of itself. However, he couldn’t hold back the tendril of pity that floated to the forefront of his mind, despite knowing that this devil was his mortal enemy from that day forth.
As if on cue, the Metatron, looking down his nose at them, announced in a thunderous voice, "With these charges in mind, under the holy authority of the Lord, I condemn each of you to the fiery sulfur pits, wherein you shall have your celestial form stripped apart and mutated by the primordial ooze to reflect the foul monstrosity that lurks behind the eyes of your corporeal bodies." Aziraphale knew that by monstrosity the Metatron referred to their curiosity and rebellion. To morph their angelic bodies though? To take what their Creator made and mar it seemed a blasphemy in and of itself. Of course, Aziraphale did not dare not object. His eyes fell, again, upon the Starmaker with his red hair and brown eyes, and couldn't imagine him as a grotesquery now or otherwise.
As the trumpets sounded, the floor began to shake violently beneath them. Before anyone could cry out, the ground fell abruptly away, spilling the traitors straight into a freefall. There was a chorus of gasps all around him as Aziraphale watched them begin to plummet into the atmosphere. The victorious host cheered and laughed and funneled out through the opening in the floor to watch the condemned take their punishment.
Aziraphale, caught in a swell of excited angels, was forced similarly through the opening and quickly fanned out his wings, following the spiral of celestial beings swarming around a light-speed drop of what were, from this day forth, known as demons. A funnel cloud of sorts formed around them, echoing the bitter laughter of the angels.
He watched as the demons attempted, in vain, to spread their wings and alter their courses. Purple auras bound their wings to their backs as they tumbled helplessly, head-over-foot, towards the rapidly approaching surface of the earth. He knew that all other eyes were on Lucifer, now to be known as Satan but, nevertheless, he watched the Starmaker flail in desperation with, what Aziraphale knew he must be mistaken for, tears in his eyes.
The wailing screams of demons tore at Aziraphale’s heartstrings as he watched the devils hopelessly tumble through the atmosphere, the ozone screeching with resistance as they entered. The angels simply passed through the atmosphere miraculously to continue to jeer and taunt the losers of The Great War. To Aziraphale, it felt so very wrong. So… unangelic.
The sea below sparkled like rough-cut sapphires, waiting to dice the flesh of the demons.
'The Starmaker! Oh, the poor Starmaker,’ Aziraphale thought as he watched the Fallen angel hit the surface of the water with a bone-crushing splat. They would not die but he knew that the pain must have been immeasurable. The demons smashed into the choppy waters like screaming meteorites, the surface boiling with the heat of their atmospheric entry.
By now, many of the angels who had followed to watch had stopped short, likely with boredom. Aziraphale was again struck by the callous nature the Fall had revealed in the Heavenly host as well as the demons. The scent of their blood left its tang in the water as it ripped at their skin. Some part of him, for whatever reason, felt he owed it to his enemies to witness their unbecoming. He gasped an unnecessary breath and miracled himself a gentle entry into the foamy waves.
Aziraphale had thought that the gelatinous resistance of the water would slow the descent of the Fallen but, alas, its depths seemed to grab them and pull them into the darkness, illuminated only by the purple aura forcibly wrapped around their wings. The angel found the Starmaker again amongst the darkness, fighting the urge to reach out as the red-haired demon clawed uselessly at his own throat trying to force air into his lungs. Their miracles had been blocked and their powers were revoked, at least as long as Heaven was still in charge of their fate. They wouldn’t always be but right now, the demons were powerless. Bubbles poured forcibly from the mouth and nose of the Starmaker as he was dragged into inky blackness.
Pressure built around Aziraphale’s ears as he followed the traitors to depths that would flatten the humans that the demons had used as an excuse to rebel against the Lord. A great rift erupted in the earth, giving way to tremendous force and heat. Aziraphale faintly remembered that the architects of Earth had referred to, what this great crevasse was to become, as the Mariana Trench. He hadn’t thought it possible but the sea grew impossibly darker. Only through his miraculous powers could Aziraphale continue to watch the excruciating Fall.
The waters grew hotter and hotter still as the minutes passed, wordless screams burbling from the mouths of the demons whose descent finally gave signs of slowing. Aziraphale alighted on a nearby cliff face, his face awash with horror. At last, a molten light emerged in the distance. A vent of flaming, boiling liquid stirred at the floor of the sea, rising and falling impossibly as though it were a living being. Boiling tentacles of violently glowing magma began to ascend.
It was to his silent terror that he watched a flaming tendril wrap around the Starmaker’s bare ankle with a sizzle, yanking him down relentlessly. His hands groped uselessly above him as his once finely-kempt hair fanned around his head, its red paling, even in near-pitch darkness, only in comparison to the molten sulfuric being he was being pulled away by.
It was only as the Starmaker disappeared into the magma, with a horrible sucking sound, that Aziraphale allowed himself to look away. His eyes burned with the salt of the ocean and unshed tears. It all felt so wrong. In all of his existence, he’d never witnessed something that had been so very gruesome, even in the heat of battle. It shook him so deeply to his core. They were their enemies, yes but were they not, also, living creatures? Had they truly not been worthy of mercy?
He knew he should go. He was now the only angel beneath the waves and the task had been done. He had fulfilled his moral obligation. The Fall was complete. Still, Aziraphale found himself latching onto the ledge staring into the bubbling ooze, his cheeks stinging from the burning vents below. The darkness was frighteningly silent for quite a long time. Regardless, the angel found himself frozen where he lay against the cliff face, hot, sharp rocks digging into his front.
Suddenly a sound akin to cannon fire filled the trench. First, one enormous fireball launched through the darkness disappearing into the distance. Aziraphale knew by the energy level alone that it had been Satan. All at once, a cacophony of thump thump thump erupted, like so many bottle rockets launched into separate directions. Into the black of the ocean. Before he understood it, his senses had latched upon a particular aura. It was mangled and twisted but still terribly familiar. He couldn’t stop himself from launching after a glowing, writhing mass of flesh through the dark water.
He was operating on instinct and ethereal senses alone. The saltwater burned his eyes and pulled his typically coiffed curls flat against his scalp as he ripped through the water after the being. He only barely managed to keep up with the impossible speed at which the demon had been cast out. He could not make out the exact shape of what he was following. Between the darkness and the speed, all Aziraphale could see was a rapidly warping black mass.
The aura was then abruptly ascending in the water. Light began to pool on the surface and before long, the demon shot out of the water, leaving tidal waves in his wake. Still, Aziraphale was helpless to stop himself from following at a speed that humans would likely always struggle to imagine, let alone achieve. The being seemed to be locked in a catapulting motion, circling the earth over and over in a way that might have made Aziraphale dizzy, were it not for his being ethereal.
The air screamed at the speed. He surmised that it had likely been a few hours since the Fallen had been expelled. He could see the creature splitting and writhing and bubbling with it’s continued mutation. Aziraphale knew very well that he had no reason to be here.
He could feel the strain on both his corporeal form and his miraculous energy yet all he could think was, ‘You poor, foolish Starmaker! I’m so sorry!’ Then the creature was rocketing toward the Earth, no longer gathering speed but moving quickly enough that Aziraphale knew it would likely leave a crater in the face of the planet.
Lush rainforest came hauling into view and Aziraphale tucked his wings back and dove ever after the demon. He could feel the slash of branches cutting against his face but as if possessed, he was being pulled by the dark energy before him. His heart was absolutely thunderous against his sternum.
A deep, brown lake rose into view and Aziraphale stopped short with a gasp as the creature, yet again, smashed through the surface of the water. Then everything grew quiet, save for the croaks of primitive insects and amphibians in the distance, Steam rose from the surface of the lake which was now significantly more shallow than it had been just moments before. The air had become moist and sticky. It clung to his skin and robe as he moved to perch on the top of a tree, on a long branch. There, he watched. Waited. He began to pray. It felt antithetical to everything he'd been told but he began to pray under his breath for him. With his eyes squeezed shut, he prayed for the demon who used to be the Starmaker.
He began to lose heart with each moment with no signs of life from below the muddied waters which remained steaming, despite its stillness. Aziraphale feared that maybe he had been destroyed after all. The deep hurt he felt at that moment was incomparable to anything he'd known before as he stretched his wings in preparation to take flight. They ached dreadfully against his back and the feathers felt stiff and smelled strongly of salt. He chided himself for the bitter taste of his own vanity in the face of the atrocities he had just witnessed, as he ran his fingers over a white primary feather. It was as he stepped toward the tip of the branch that he heard it.
Something broke the surface of the water with a violent gasp and Aziraphale quickly retreated to the cover of leaves he’d previously been hidden within. He stared into the dark water trying to make here or there of the shadows cast across the water from the dense foliage overhanging the water. He stifled a gasp as his eyes fell upon something or someone moving through the water with a ripple. Aziraphale’s curiosity felt to him like a cruelty to bestow upon the creature below.
He could hear harsh breaths ripping through the forest floor below. Aziraphale’s hackles rose at what the Starmaker had become. He felt a flash of terror at that moment. He couldn’t think of another time in his life he had felt such palpable fear… Had it been his? It felt alien in his chest but he knew that that was impossible. Right?
The water sloshed riotously for a moment and then slowly, ever so slowly, something emerged onto the shore of the lake. Aziraphale had never seen anything like it before. What lay upon the ground below him was a massive serpent. It’s scales were a vibrantly shining, inky blackness, reflecting the dimming sunlight with a blazing orange sheen. It was as if it- No, he was radiating a fiery glow beneath his flesh.
Without warning, the serpent curled upon himself, writhing in the mud. His body twisted at impossible angles, serpent or not. One moment, he appeared to Aziraphale as an absence of light. A black hole. The next he seemed to fold in and out of dimensions that the eyes that the Lord had bestowed upon Aziraphale couldn’t quite seem to comprehend. He had thought that the transformation had been completed. He had watched it happen for hours.
He was struck with a sudden realization. This creature was no longer helpless at that moment. He was willfully reshaping his own existence. He was rejecting the mutated form forced upon him by the primordial ooze and like he had that day with Aziraphale beside him, was forcing something entirely new into existence. Aziraphale tensed with anticipation.
It was with a shock of lightning and boom of thunder that everything ceased. The rainforest was deadly silent, though out of fear or reverence, Aziraphale could not say. The air was tense with static and ozone and the angel was all too aware of the thrumming of his heart against his chest.
A plume of black smoke billowed up from the forest floor, and from behind its curtain emerged a figure. The being before him stood bare at the water’s edge. Waves of hair cascaded down the demon’s back in loose ringlets, an impossible searing red-orange. The strands bifurcated at his shoulders revealing jet-black wings, intimidating in their span and iridescence.
He seemed to tremble on his feet and for a moment, Aziraphale thought he might tumble to the ground. The demon instinctively spread his wings to balance and right himself. He appeared startled by the sight of his own marred feathers and in a manner that was just nearly, but not quite, amusing, he turned about in a circle, trying to glimpse his new wings in their entirety.
He eventually settled for gripping a feather, at one wingtip, between two fingers before letting it drop. He had abruptly become absorbed by his own fingers. They were as slender and lithe as Aziraphale remembered but now they were tipped with deadly sharp, black claws. He watched the demon access his work. He seemed to count each finger and toe and test each joint to ensure they moved properly in the way that his previous corporeal body’s had.
Aziraphale felt ashamed. He understood that what he was witnessing was something terribly intimate. He was an interloper upon this damned creature but he could not… Refused to look away. Underneath the shame rang out a feeling of deep purpose for which the angel had no name. Against all logic, there was a certainty that he had to be here.
Finally, the demon moved his clawed fingers from the hollow of his own chest slowly up his own throat. Aziraphale could feel his hesitation. The demon probed gently at his own face, as though accounting for each contour of his cheek and the jut of his chin. Aziraphale had yet to see the demon’s face clearly because of his halo of red hair. Its shade was somehow even more striking than it had been that day before the Beginning.
The demon seemed to huff a laugh. Perhaps, the angel pondered, pleased with his work? It was then the demon knelt before the water and stared into the reflection upon the surface. Upon taking in his own countenance, though, a wave of sorrow so strong slammed into Aziraphale that it wrenched a gasp from his chest. He struggled to stay upright as the sensation battered his body.
Anguished wails rang out from below. Aziraphale pressed back against the energy to look upon him again. The creature held himself, knees against his chest, and sobbed the most painful cries Aziraphale had ever heard. He shook violently as he cried and yet more waves of desperate sadness poured from him.
Aziraphale could not understand. Just a moment ago, the demon had seemed so pleased with himself. What could have shaken him so deeply? Reality blurred around its edges as the being wept. He couldn’t stop himself.
Aziraphale began to part the leaves, everything in him crying out that he must go to him. Nothing else mattered at that moment. Though, as he reached the tip of the branch, his wings poised to dive, an echo of The Metatron’s words boomed in his head. He remembered the promise he had made to himself hours before to never allow himself to put himself in this very position. This was dangerous.
He began to step back, and as he did his wings shuffled the moist leaves around him. He froze stock still. The demon below stood suddenly. He was looking away from Aziraphale's direction and all he could see was the demon’s profile. His heart seized in his chest and his hands uselessly gripped at the air before him.
The demon screamed out in a voice wrecked from his sobs, “Who’s there?!”
Aziraphale shivered. He sounded just like he had that moment when they stood side by side, the Starmaker’s wing held above him, shielding him from the stray sparks of stardust. He hadn’t expected that. The demon spun where he stood.
“Have you come to laugh at the abomination?!”
Aziraphale knew that he couldn’t but he wanted so desperately to soothe the demon and assure him that he found no humor in his tragic circumstances. Alas, he stood with his back against the trunk of the young tree.
“Come out, you coward!”
He flailed violently in circles again before falling to his knees, at last, facing the angel’s direction.
He screamed again, with his eyes squeezed shut, “Come out!”
Finally, the demon turned his face to the trees and opened his eyes, searching the leaves. The first thing Aziraphale saw was the black scar at his temple in the shape of a twisted snake. His eyes, though. A gasp wrenched from the angel’s chest. Where his eyes were once a warm brown, they were now two orbs of piercing, molten yellow. The eyes of a serpent.
Aziraphale now understood; he couldn’t get rid of them. No matter how the demon changed his form, he would always have them. The visage that God had bestowed upon him would be forever marred with the constant reminder of his Fall from grace. A haunting sorrow filled Aziraphale, this time all his own. Tragic.
The demon was still so strikingly beautiful. All sharp angles and light, just like he had been then with the lights of stars bursting in his eyes. His cheeks were now speckled with freckles, like stars upon the expanse of space he had once painted upon. One last remnant of who he had been. The face was twisted with visceral pain.
“Where are you?” the demon screamed again, “Come out!”
Aziraphale’s body seemed to move forward of its own accord at the sight of the demon's heart-rending expression. He steeled himself against it, forcing himself back. He desperately fanned his wings, sound be damned. If he didn’t leave now, he knew that he never would.
He burned as he took in the tears pouring from those golden-yellow eyes.
Then softly, “Please.”
Aziraphale stepped from the branch forcing himself to turn away and began to fly in the opposite direction.
“Please!” the demon cried out once more, his voice hoarse and strained, before dropping to nearly a whisper, “Don’t go. Don’t leave me alone…”
Still, Aziraphale flapped his wings, carrying himself away from the sound of the demon’s cries and the still-assaulting waves of emotional energy. It was only as he broke the tree line of the rainforest, ascending to make his way back to Heaven, that he realized his own cheeks were wet with tears he hadn’t realized had been shed.
He was going home. He fought back a sob of his own. The Starmaker was all alone and always would be. He would never again feel the light of their home. Where would he go? Aziraphale felt an inexplicable sense of loss.
He would never, ever have the chance to comprehend what had drawn him to the Starmaker from the moment he’d laid eyes upon him. They were never to meet again amongst the stars. He thought maybe he was imagining it, but he could have sworn, in that moment, that he could still hear the demon's lamentations. He couldn't afford to let himself think about it further. He banished it from his head with a soft whisper.
'Goodbye, Starmaker.'
#good omens#crowley#ineffable husbands#aziraphale#aziracrow#good omens 2#good omens crowley#aziraphale x crowley#crowley good omens#the fall#serpent Crowley#snake crowley#fallen angel crowley#the starmaker#pining#good omens fanfiction#good omens fanfic#good omens fic#good omens fanart#good omens art
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the fallen angel, freed.
Genre/Tropes: No notable ones!!
Summary: if loving them is a sin, he'd damn himself a billion times over.
Author's Comments: this is me writing about the parallels between simeon and lilith. you'll see.
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When Lucifer fell from the Celestial Realm, he went down with a bang. His glorious white wings were a sight to behold as they carried him through the battlefield, leading his brothers into battle as they fought for the life of their sister. The very life that the angels wanted to extinguish. Creatures known for their kindness and virtue and mercy, trying so hard to take the life of one of their own. Simeon doesn’t think he’s ever seen something so ghastly.
While Simeon did not take a side, he still treasures Lucifer greatly, and admires Michael much the same way. It doesn’t matter to him that Lucifer is a demon now, or that he has sworn loyalty to Diavolo. He would have done the same if he had a sister that went through what Lilith did. Whether what happened to her was fair or not, he cannot say, because he is part of a world that values purity above all else (at what cost?) and hasn’t changed that in centuries.
In a morbid way, Simeon cannot blame Diavolo for saying Lucifer looked stunning. Lucifer was a fearsome foe, but no matter how beautiful he was, Simeon never wanted to view him as an enemy. He’s one of the few angels that doesn’t view the demons as enemies—He knows Luke has questions about the decision Michael has made, and he knows that the young angel will eventually leave the nest and form opinions beyond what the Celestial realm has taught him. That’s the reason Simeon offered to participate in the exchange program with him. He won’t be around forever, though he thought he’d have a few more years.
Here he stands, in front of Michael. His posture is straight, but his arms are relaxed. There is no use denying the inevitable, and the expression on the other angel’s face is a clear indication that he cannot escape this fate.
“Simeon.” Michael says, voice regretfully and full of sorrow. Simeon is glad Luke doesn’t have to see this.
“Michael.” Simeon gives him an easy smile, like they’re talking over afternoon tea and not his fall from grace, “What is your verdict? I heard you’ve been discussing this with the other seraphim.”
“You know what’s going to happen.” he frowns, brow furrowing. Simeon continues to smile, “The fact is, you fell in love with a human. That human suffered a grave injury at the hands of a demon, and you gave them fruit from the Celestial Realm. You altered their lifespan. That’s strictly forbidden. You know this.”
Simeon says nothing. There’s nothing to say. He did, he fell in love with them, one of the human exchange students that attended RAD for some time. He cares about them in ways that tear him apart inside, He’s aware he’s repeating history. Simeon is painfully aware of everything he has done that led him up to this point, and yet he doesn’t regret a single thing.
If loving them is a sin, he'd damn himself a billion times over.
Is this what Lucifer felt in his final moments as an angel?
“You’re the last angel I expected to fall.” Michael says, his words slow and face full of regret, “I want to understand—why have both you and Lilith taken fruit from our Realm? That’s not virtuous, nor is it acceptable. We are not supposed to interfere, for what are we without our virtues?”
Nothing, Simeon thinks, Angels are nothing if they are not completely free of sin.
Their virtues make them who they are.
They may as well stab the spear that Raphael wielded in the Great Celestial War through his heart. Simeon thinks that would hurt less.
How many angels have to fall for Heaven to change?
Michael notices his silence and says nothing in return. (It's odd to see Michael being so stern towards him, but he's talked to Simeon like this before. It's his disciplining voice, and that almost makes him chuckle. Almost.) They both know what has to happen for the Celestial Realm to continue down the path it’s set forth for its angels. They both know where Simeon is going now. They both know his new place is in the Devildom, where demons are.
But all demons are not the same. Simeon knows this all too well, but it’s not as though the other higher-rank angels (aside from Michael and Raphael, who admire Lucifer greatly) would know anything about that. He always wishes he could have taken all of them down to the Devildom with him, to see how hard-working Lucifer still is and how strong Mammon has become and how dedicated Leviathan is and how they have a new brother, Satan, and he’s one of the kindest souls Simeon has ever seen and how Asmodeus has amassed more fans than ever and how Beelzebub has grown into the protector his brother need to most and how Belphegor...Belphegor...
And how they ruined Belphegor. How the joy in that demon’s eyes had faded before the exchange student came, and how the fascination he had with humans that had been shunned by the angels had been fully embraced by the human and Diavolo.
Diavolo. The demon that rules his subjects fairly and always listens to even the lowest demons. The demon whose admiration of Lucifer rivals even Michael. The demon who welcomed him and Luke with open arms and helped them adjust to their new home for the next year. His butler, Barbatos, who nobody really noticed but had convinced Luke that not all demons were terrible within a few baking lessons. Barbatos, the demon that had gone to supermarkets and little excursions with him on many occasions and had proved to have better manners than a lot of the angels did.
Bitter. Simeon was feeling bitter. How foreign of a feeling this was!
Perhaps he was already falling.
Michael is staring, and it's only then that Simeon realizes he said nothing in response to his speech about virtues. Is there anything virtuous about violence against an innocent family of brothers?
“We won’t kill you.” he whispers, eyes full of a deep regret that Simeon knows is about the brothers and Lilith, “I will never...obliterate an angel again. I regretted it...the last time. But I still have to punish you somehow. I still have to act with authority. I’m sorry. You will fall, Simeon. I only hope Diavolo has mercy on you.”
Now that his fall is inevitable, he feels the doubts that have built up over the years slipping free from his mind, and he clutches them to his chest like precious jewels. Heaven has abandoned him, and he will live without the eyes of grace upon him for all eternity.
And so he stands when Michael stands. He follows him, and the second he steps out into the radiance of his home, he hears the sound of Luke calling out to him. He cannot stop his head from whipping towards the noise, only to see the small boy standing beside none other than Raphael. The angel he’s so close with betrays nothing in his expression, but Luke—sweet, naive Luke—is crying harder than Simeon has ever seen him cry. The young boy is screaming at him not to leave, to stay up in the Celestial Realm with him (even though Simeon is helpless) because Simeon is his family and he doesn’t know what he will do without him.
Simeon breaks, his brow furrowing in misery as a stab of regret pierces his heart, and he rushes over to Luke with his wings flared out behind him. Raphael holds his spear as though he'll never let it go again as he points it warningly at Simeon, but Simeon doesn't even care as he scoops Luke up in his arms and holds the crying boy.
The young shouldn’t have to see such a display. Luke has been through too much already.
And so Simeon holds him. He shushes Luke softly as the boy grabs at his back, fat tears hitting his shoulder like stones.
“You’ll be okay, Luke. You can come visit me.” Simeon soothes, trying to reassure the angel before he, too, starts a rebellion against the higher powers, “I won’t be gone forever. Just...away. Shh, shhhh...it’s okay. You’re strong now, you don’t need me anymore.”
“But I do!” Luke cries, squeezing him so tightly that Simeon almost believes Luke can protect him from this fate, “I have no one else to turn to if you aren’t here-”
“Brother.” Raphael says, voice as deadpan as always, “Michael is waiting.”
Simeon sucks in a shuddering breath and sends one last smile Luke’s way. It’s like a token, a trinket for those nights when Luke has nightmares and can’t run to Simeon’s room anymore. It’s the comforting warmth that will replace the hot chocolate they used to make together when they had trouble sleeping, and a final smile in the series of smiles they have shared before.
Luke does not smile back, and he is still crying.
The next few moments are a blur of light and clouds. He sees his clothes turning completely black, his wings enduring searing pain. He tastes blood and bile and hears the screams of the fallen angels before him as he pullets to the earth. They’re so loud, too loud, and Simeon wishes they would stop and leave him in peace, but the clouds are closing and sealing shut and the light has disappeared entirely.
In the darkness, he sees them, and that’s all the light he needs.
Simeon closes his eyes, and he bears it.
He falls and falls and falls before dirt catches him, the slam of his body on the hard ground sending a shockwave through his bones. He doesn’t get up, he doesn’t even twitch. He does, however, open his eyes and stare into a familiar blackened sky.
“My, my. It seems you’ve found yourself in a predicament.” a familiar voice hums, a soft chuckle soon following.
Simeon opens his mouth to speak, but his throat feels dry and cracked. It feels like he hasn’t drank anything in months.
Barbatos reaches out to him, helping the fallen angel on his side. Simeon’s body screams at him to stay down, for him to stop moving, but he can't listen to it. He needs to get up.
“Do not push yourself too hard. The Young Master has already been informed of this matter and is taking the necessary steps to ensure that you're well taken care of.” Barbatos reassures him, the gentle smile on his face telling Simeon he knew all of this would happen, “Though, unfortunately I must admit that you will be another fallen angel that Michael regrets. However, beings in power do what they must, and they do what is right.”
“Barbatos...” Simeon winces, clutching his side as slick blood gathers on his gloves.
“Don’t speak. Conserve your energy.” he smiles, “I have called MC over, and they shall be arriving shortly. You are their hero, after all.”
Right. The reason he did what he did.
Blood on the floor of RAD. A demon holding them by the throat. Filthy, sharp nails digging into their skin. The images blur together because he doesn’t want to remember, it was so horrible and gory and he doesn’t know how they survived that.
It was probably only thanks to him.
“Do you think...it was worth it?” Simeon asks, a bitter laugh escaping his throat.
“You are to be the judge of that. I cannot say either way.” Barbatos replies, the response so serious it almost makes him laugh more.
If it wasn’t for the pain he feels all over, he might have.
He sits with Barbatos in silence, feeling and feeling as his abrasions and changes take hold of him. He doesn’t know how much longer he can do this, he’s sure he’s going to die here and now and nobody can save him, and he’ll never see them or Luke again, and-
“Simeon?” a gentle voice calls, a familiar figure running towards him as Barbatos steps out of the way.
A wretched gasp escapes his throat as the exchange student comes into view, their brow furrowed with worry and lips parted as they pant. They must have run here as soon as Barbatos told them what was going on, and the warmth he feels at the sight of the human he saved pushes out most of the pain. It’s like his arms have a mind of their own because they reach for the human despite the creaking of his bones and the screaming of his muscles.
They reach him before he does.
They crush him against their chest in an embrace that feels like the warmth of the sun on his back, and all the breath in Simeon’s lungs vanishes in an instant. his mouth hangs open as they sob into his hair, stroking his head like he’s something precious, like they’re so glad he’s okay. He uses the last of his strength to wrap his arms around them, straining the muscle as they cry that they were so worried and how he shouldn’t have done something like that if it meant falling from grace and that they aren’t that important and he shouldn’t have risked it and oh, he’s such an idiot but they love him anyways, they loved him when he was an angel and they'll love him now, regardless of what he’s done or what his fate is or what form he’s taken because he’s Simeon and Simeon is the only one they want.
He hears all of this and begs his mind to come up with something to say, something poetic and romantic that he can normally put into writing so easily, just to thank them for the kindness they've always displayed towards him, but he comes up empty.
So he quiets their sobs with a kiss. He kisses them with tears rolling down his face, he kisses them with his tattered wings and abandoned soul, he kisses them like that soul belongs to them because it does, even though it's been trampled and dirtied and destroyed.
They kiss him back.
And under the vacant, darkened sky with his torn wings and blackened soul, he falls all over again.
#auburn's fics <3#obey me x reader#obey me#obey me angst#obey me simeon#simeon x reader#simeon x mc#om simeon x reader#om x reader#i love love love the concept of fallen angel simeon#its so good#so much potential
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Eliatropes as Angels AU
That's it. That's the post
#This started out as me wanting to see Oropo as that Fallen Angel painting#But then I thought. Hm. Wings made purely from the energy of life. Goddess mom and Dragon God father and their children#Protectors and Warriors and Outlanders#Many similar subjects lead by a greater force (Idk how to word this one)#Nature/natural lovers and ancient demigods#I think we can call them that#A race older than...time apparently#Kinda forgot the difference between Eliotrope and Eliatrope but im kinda thinking the former are subspecies#I know very little lore#Oh and also with this AU they can be otherworldly and eldritch :D#wakfu#wakfu yugo#yugo wakfu#yugo the eliatrope#eliatrope#fic ideas#The Chaos of a Writer
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“Are you ever angry?” You ask quietly, head resting in Bakugou’s lap. His thumb pauses where it strokes your cheeks, the far away gaze in his eyes suddenly snapping into focus as he looks down at you. He looks…different than you remembered, before you both were cast out of the pearly gates.
His hair doesn’t shine as bright as it used to, and it falls a little flatter without the halo pulling it up, soft. His eyes still hold that hardened gaze as a battle angel, but they’re deeper now. More sunken in and hollow, the flickering ichor now a stained crimson. His face is scarred and his hands are rough after the fall but he’s just—different.
“About what?” He asks, his lips pursed in confusion. You reach a hand up, stroking over his bottom lip, smooth a hand through his hair. You can almost feel the throbbing light radiating from him, can almost see how broad and ivory his wings would spread and hold you tight to him.
“It all. Everything. The fall.” You whisper, try not to shrink into yourself with the way Bakugou’s lip curls back in disgust. He pulls away from you and you sit up, resting on your knees, looking at him in such a way that his heart pangs in his chest.
His heart, something he’s never had a reason for when he still had his fists bathed in heavenly fire and no ounce of rebellion hidden under sinless skin. It aches in his chest at the mention of life after being kicked out with the only thing he could hold onto—you.
“Why would I miss my thoughtlessness? My inability to make a decision for myself? Why would I miss being a pawn?” Bakugou is all snarls, all snapping teeth and jowls, but it doesn’t scare you. He’s never scared you, even when his gait was limp from the impact of hard soil, and his hands grew rough, and his back grew jagged from ripped feathers.
“I miss it.” You whisper so carefully into the humid night, hands reaching for his own trembling ones. “I want to be holy again, Katsuki.”
He hisses at you, snatching away like you’ve burned him, like you’ve seized his halo and ripped it into two until it split into horns. Looks at you with such heavenly fire burning in his gaze that you want to shrink beneath him.
“Well—well I don’t. Find someone else who will, cause it sure as hell ain’t me.” You wonder who he’s trying to convince here, with his shaky voice and fluttering eyes and trembling mouth. You stare at him for a long while, lips wobbling at the gravity of it all. Your head hangs low, gathering yourself in your arms, head bowed to him—it’s the only thing you’ve ever known.
“Just hold me for now.” You murmur, eyes low as you settle yourself in his arms, forcing your way into his hold. “Please?” You tack on, unafraid of his bite, his snarl, his growl. Bakugou sits there stiffly for what feels like a century, but you’re used to waiting.
He gathers you in his arms slowly, pulling you into his chest, his body covering yours completely. And if you let yourself relax enough, you can almost feel the warmth of his wings surrounding you again.
#can you tell I watched the first season of good omens today AKSJDKDJD#this is actually my favorite subject matter to write about!!#Ive been writing about it since I was a teen and it’s just so cathartic and relaxing and melancholic in a sense#but I don’t tend to write it for fics bc I usually just write p*rn ajdkdjd#I know this kinda stuff isn’t everybody’s cup of tea but it means a lot to me#at first I was gonna make you guys on either side of each other#but didn’t wanna do the bad boy demon x innocent angel reader thing#and I feel like somebody did the vice versa version too???? I can’t remember but I didn’t wanna unintentionally steal lol#so I just did both fallen angels which I love a shit ton lol#I’m rambling sorry!!!#bakugou treats! 🍬#—new treat in the streets! 🍫#cw religion#cw religious imagery#tagging just to be safe!
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Mind is full of this Fallen Angel Yoongi x Witch Reader concept
Fallen Angel Yoongi meets a witch who accidentally stumbles into the mystical dark forest while collecting herbs for her spells
Fallen Angel Yoongi who gives her shelter (this forest holds many dangers) until she can leave in the morning
Fallen Angel Yoongi and the witch drink red wine for hours in the library of his estate, ending with the witch falling asleep while Yoongi plays piano
Fallen Angel Yoongi who waits for at the Tea Shop the witch works in for hours just to hang out with her
Fallen Angel Yoongi looking out the window of the tea shop holding a porcelain cup of tea while the golden light comes in
Fallen Angel Yoongi showing the witch his wings, and their soft obsidian feathers
Fallen Angel Yoongi reading an entire book on herbology for his hiking date in the woods with the witch in order to impress her
Oh god.. i need to write this fic..
#bts fanfic#min yoongi#bts#bangtan#bts au#bts au fic#min suga#suga#suga bts#yoongi x reader#fallen angel#bts x reader#imagine bts#yoongi x y/n#bts imagines#agust d#yoongi min#min yunki#im going to cry i love him#suga x reader#agust d x reader#suga fluff#suga imagine#bts drabble#brain is rotting#min yoongi x reader#min yoongi x you#suga x you#suga x y/n
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The Fallen Angel.
Characters: Paul Stanley, Ace Frehely, Mystery character.
Pairing: Spacechild.
Setting: ????
Au: Fallen Angel.
Summary: ‘’Now….’’
‘’Fall.’’
Those were the last and haunting words Paul was told and heard once he fell through the white clouds into the deepest depths of the darkness he feared as he screamed all the down. Flailing like a dove who didn’t know how to fly yet due to being so young but in this case his wings were being burned and clipped as he was falling.
Burning deep into his soft plush skin, blood were pouring from the wounds that were being made each second he cried out. His frightening screams and cries filled the skies with horrifying sounds that people looked around to see the source, the earth shook as….
__________
⚠️Warnings: i'm in a good mood I swear, Blood and injury, mentions of shit(it's not what your thinking it's not that), horror, symbolism, Fallen angels, religious themes, Au, oneshots, Angst, Hurt/comfort, implied torture/sex, Heaven, Ask to tag.
Comments and Reblogs, are Deeply appreciated!
Also on A03
‘’You are banished from this very heaven’s you’ve stand on, no longer you’ll be an angel once you’ve fallen or call yourself a saint after what you have committed down on that sinful land that those people called earth. You’ll no longer bare the wings of angelic nor the halo that hangs above that foolish head of yours, or call this place…home. The very place you were born into, call the people you’ve known as friends or family here now known as just acquaintances due to you betraying your them, your own kind.’’
‘’You disgust me, them, all of us.’
‘’Heaven is ashamed of you.’’
‘’As of today, you are no longer welcome here…Stanley.’’
‘’Now….’’
‘’Fall.’’
Those were the last and haunting words Paul was told and heard once he fell through the white clouds into the deepest depths of the darkness he feared as he screamed all the down. Flailing like a dove who didn’t know how to fly yet due to being so young but in this case his wings were being burned and clipped as he was falling.
Burning deep into his soft plush skin, blood were pouring out from the wounds that were being made each second he cried out. His frightening screams and cries filled the skies with horrifying sounds that people looked around to see the source, the earth shook as the screams intensified as the falling did, his tears flew off as he screamed. His clothes were turned into nothing but scraps, his wings were becoming black as the night yet there were red as blood spurted out more from the wounds.
Some People watched from the distance, seeing the holy light from the open skies the people always pray to. Watching the skies bare it’s light on a figure as they watch the whole thing in silence or in awe. Amazed or scared from what they are seeing in this moment in time, not moving at all due to the unknown. They all just watched as they heard the violent screams of an angel who was falling from heaven.
They Just watched.
As rain started from the skies, pelting the ground with droplets of water. Animals ran to take cover as did the humans, going into there huts or caves for which they’ve callen home all these years to them, ignoring the anguished screams that was still roaring through the skies or the ground shaking from the angel’s suffering, the feather wings that were burned off were now on the ground as kids were collecting before heading inside.
‘’Mama, Mama! Look what i got!’’
The child said, jumping around with a feather in hand. Smiling with glee, calling for his mother to tell her what he had collected.
‘’What is it, sweetie?’’ The mother asked, smiling. Turning around, picking her child up carefully as she looked at him happily.
‘’What have you found now, My Son?’’
She asked, Quizzically.
Her son smiled. Giggling, his face glowing as he showed his mother what he had gotten from the outside.
‘’This!’’
‘’A feather?’’
‘’Not just any feather, an angel feather!!!’’ He exclaimed, cheerfully.
‘’An Angel feather? Where did you get that?’’
‘’It was on the ground, outside was being strange.’’
‘’Strange, how honey?’’ The mother questioned, a bit curious.
‘’Well…the ground was shaking, noises were getting um…BEW!!’’
‘’Loud?’’
‘’Mhm.’’ The Boy nodded, but not before saying….
‘’Loud and there was a light from a sky.’’
‘’A light? What kind of light?’’
‘’A bright one, the sky was opened.’’
‘’The sky was…opened?’’
‘’Yup!’’
The mother’s face twisted with concern, the child played with the feather. Running his little hands over the white and black parts as he stared at it with awe and admiration. Mother carried him to the window, not a care in the world in the boy’s face at as the mother looked out.
And to her shock, the water became blood as the skies closed on it’s. She leaned her ear against the window for a second, hearing….
‘’PLEASE, HELP ME!!! PLEASE!!!’’
“”MAKE IT STOP!!!’’
‘’MAKE IT STOP!!!’’
‘’MAKE IT STOP!!!
‘’KILL M-!’’
The mother took her ear away from the window, her eyes trembled as those words echoed through her head. Lips trembling, holding her son close to her as she could, She gulped…
Knowing exactly who it was.
That voice.
That voice that was always sweet and known when they’ve talked or sang, that voice when her husband had him over for some festivities, that voice that talked to her child with kindness like no other.
That voice….
Was…
Him.
‘’Mommy?’’ The child quietly said, touching her brown locks. Trying to get her attention as she stood in fear and realization as the outside roared with thunder, muffling those anguish cries and the shaking of the earth. ‘’Mommy?’’
‘’Mama?’’
He said, snapping his mom back to reality as her breath became more shaky and shuttery as the blinds that prevented light from coming into the house and concealed the the reddish droplets that pelted from the sky. She turned to him, tightening her hold on him. Rubbing her hand through his hair. Petting him softly, as she tried to keep calm.
‘’Yes, sweetheart?’’
She breathed, looking into his eyes. Those sweet eyes of his, that reminded her of her…
Husband.
‘’Are you okay, mama?’’
She stared, then look back out.
Rain was getting more heavier, the ground became reddier each second as the lightning grew louder than life, almost hitting the ground in different sections of the village. Almost hitting a farm, the homes where the people lived and almost starting a fire.
More animals ran as they heard, making frightening noises but not as frightening as the angel did just noises you heard from animals when they seek shelter. The wind got intense as the door almost flew open but luckily they were block thanks to locks and bolts and sometimes boulders.
Boulders that were big as day, like the one beside the house.
Waves clashed against each other as it was war, the sky turned blacker and the mother turned white.
Thinking about her answer, leaning her ear against the window she heard…
“ACE!!!’’
The words echoed, pulling from the window. She turned once more to her child, looked him dead in the eyes and…
‘’Where’s your father?’’
Thunder crackled.
Ace ran as fast as he could through the forest, breathing heavily. Almost tripping on rocks, fallen branches, anything in his wake as he ran like hell. Getting coated in red from the rain, his outfit was ruined, his hair, everything except his eyes as they were trembling with fear. Hoping what he saw wasn’t real as he ran to the light that was becoming dimmer each second the sky was closing.
Ignoring the signs, the tree’s falling. Almost killing him but he prevailed as his boots were being ripped apart and filled with mud each time he stepped or slid on something that made him fall. Busting his nose, that was bleeding.
Dripping down his face, into his mouth. Swallowing as much as he could, trying to make it. His heart raced with fire as he heaved. Heart palpitations skyrocketing as he didn’t stop to rest or breath for a sec.
His mind was cluttered with one thing and one thing only as his locks of silver flown with the wind as He….
‘’SHIT!!’’
Jumped over a cliff, as time slowed. Tree’s were struck, falling as ace right now. Holding his breath, his heart stopped, lightening roared, the waves clashed as ships were getting harder and harder to steer as Ace was bombarded with thoughts of loved ones. Memories he dearly held to his heart as….
Badum.
Badum.
Badum.
Sweat drips.
He gulps.
Eyes forward.
Mouth open.
A Word.
‘’Please, god. Let me get to him. Please.’’
‘’Let me see Paulie.’’
‘’Let me see My angel, you’ve thrown away because of….’’
‘’Me.’’
Badum.
Ba-.
!!!CRASH!!!!
He makes it.
Barely, but he makes it.
Immediately running again as the skies began to clear as they were closed, the red became water again. Clear as glass, winds dying down like the wilts of a dying rose as the sun comes out from within the clouds as Ace grunts.
Legs hurting so much from running, he wants to stop but can’t due to wanting to find his angel who had fallen from heavens above and hoping he’s not dead from a mighty fall that would or not kill him. Maybe even paralyze but he digress, as blisters began to form on the soles of his feets as his boots tore from the speed he was going as it was race.
Race against what?
Time.
How much longer will it be for him to get there and see his angel alive or dead? How long it’ll be if he keeps running like this and does not die from the lack of air in his lungs? Or his body is overproducing so much sweat he looks like he can melt away in a flash? How long can he live for what he did to make his angel fall and be no longer the heavenly being he once knew?
Those sweet doe eyes, the black locks of hair he loved stroking along with those gorgeous white wings that were soft as a pillow or bed, that body that was always a delight to look at when those intoxicating moments would arrive when their feelings grew stronger for another like their different souls. That voice of his that would bring him down to earth when things get tough or the way it would echoed throughout his head when….
The angel moaned out his name.
In ways he never imagined, anyone else would despite their differences with each other yet….
It worked and he still wanted to work, no matter what anyone else thought.
No matter what they say.
God say.
Anyone say.
Nobody has a say for what they’ve both done and will do once they’re together again if….
The angel’s still alive, that is.
‘’Paulie…please be okay.’’
Hours past, a light shone on the fallen branches in the middle of the forest as things became calmer and lighter for the ones in the village and forest but things weren’t calmer or lighter at all for one individual of them all.
The crying hasn’t stopped, the bleeding hasn’t stopped gushing out from the back of the angel who’s lying in the middle of the forest, covered in dirt and soaked with blood as the final parts of his wings were burned off.
Releasing a harrowing scream from his hoarse throat, laying there naked in pain, filth and whatever that made him look….
Like a filthy sin he was, as he heaved.
Tears stopped running, burying his face in the dirt to hide from the world or anyone that would see the very angel that fallen thus was banished by god for….
Committing a sin.
A sin he felt wasn’t a sin but…
A sin that felt more like a blessing.
A blessing that made him feel more human and more angelic but….
One that caused him to be cut out from heaven.
One he doesn’t know how to feel nor explain but one that….
He won’t make again.
As he laid there, the sun shined on him more as he shook from the cold that was coming. He looked around, he was alone yet surrounded by an abundance of once white flowers that showed off their pureness, angelic, innocence to the world now coated in his….
Filth.
The red dripping off from the flowers, onto the muddy ground. The petals falling off like the last feathers, their heavenly appearance gone just like his. His browns no longer shined brightly nor reflected his happiness, his hair no longer curled or done beautifully now it’s just a mess like a rat’s ness.
Nails that were once pristine were also coated in blood, his fingers trembling from the cold and the more blood that was gushing from his back he looked….
Like a bloody mess.
A bloody mess, that was surrounded in darkness yet the sun was the only thing keeping him company. Giving him comfort in his time of anguish and pain as whimpered and cried away the hours that went past.
Just laying there, punishing himself.
His mind.
Body.
The decisions he made by giving his body away to….
A human.
He should just rot away, he thought. But no….
Life had other plans.
Plans that would…
Start a new chapter in this life.
As the angel whimpered, the weather became normal as the animals did. All was quiet until…
‘’Paul!’’
A Yell was heard.
‘’Paul, where are you!!!’’
Again.
‘’Paulie!’’
Again.
‘’Curly!!!’’
And again, interrupting the angel’s pain and cires as the yells got louder. The angel shook from the pain, trembling as he tried to move. Sticks, bugs, sharp things under him moved with him as he crawled and screamed…
‘’Ace!!!’’
Hoping it wasn’t a hallucination, he yelled once more as tears started.
‘’ACE!!!’’
He cried, trembling as he got up. Trying not to stumble, yet fell into a muddy pile of feces but he got up and ran.
His legs weak, he ran.
‘’ACE!!!’’
Leaves crunch underneath his dirtied foot as he grabbed onto a tree almost falling once again but he prevailed.
Breathing heavily as he…
Swallowed.
‘’ACE!’’
He cried, once more as it echoed.
Crying out his lover’s name, falling and stumbling into things then falling on a fallen tree crying out the name that made him fall in the first place.
Heaving, gripping the tree as he released one more cry that rocked the whole world once more.
!!AAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCCCCCCCCCCEEEEEE-!!!’’
He screamed, coughing out blood from so much yelling and crying as he fell onto the tree as his eyes closed almost…
Going into the darkness, thinking all is lost and that this is a worse place than hell until….
‘’Paul!!!’’
‘’Paulie-!’’
‘’Paul!!!’’
His eyes opened, trembling as he saw….
Ace standing over him, dirtied and bloodied like him. Staring at him with those eyes of his with worry as Ace crumbled to the ground in horror, seeing his lover in a grotesque way made him rumble with disgust almost causing him to puke as he smelled shit and blood that was running down his body but…
He pushed back the puke, swallowing it down whole and gently touched Paul with his bare hands ignoring the blood, the smell that was getting worse each second he was near and…
Embrace him in his arms.
Stroking his head gently, as he too started to cry.
Tears streamed down his cheeks, as he held him close to him.
His fingers stroking through the tangled curls of his beloved, holding him close as the sun lightens them up.
The only thing protecting them from the darkness around them, the reality of what’s happening and how it happened made their minds run crazy, hearts beating frantically as it was thunder crackling, emotions running high as Ace tried to soothe himself and paul.
Running his hand down his bloodied back, feeling the wounds bleeding out.
Touching it lightly as he could, sent pain throughout Paul's body.
Paul whimpered, Ace pulled his hand away.
Comforting Paul with his words.
‘’I’m here, paul. You’re okay, your okay….’’
He repeated over and over, not knowing if Paul would be ok as he looked at his trembling hand.
Finger’s shaking, lower lip wobbling as he repeated those very words once again as he saw….
Bit’s of feathers on his hand.
Paul’s feathers.
That were once white now…
Black as the night.
He gulped, fighting back the puke again and the tears that were threatening to fall as he picked up Paul and walked away with him in his arms as the light still shined on them both leaving a trail of blood and….
Feathers.
Marking the sight of the fallen angel who had fallen for a human like….
Ace.
‘’Mama! Look at papa's home! He’s carrying someone!!!’’
The child exclaimed, the mother running to the window. She looked, gasping loudly from what she’s seeing as she heard the loud gasps of the people coming out from their homes as the father walked through the village carrying someone.
Covered in blood and dirt.
That was dripping from them both as they walked.
‘’Sweetie, go to your room.’’
She uttered, eyes trembling.
‘’Why Mama?’’
‘’Sweetie…please go to your room, mama has to help papa…ok?’’
Her voice shocked, turning to her child. Seeing the eyes of innocence in them as she bent down and looked at him at all motherly, putting her hand gently on his shoulder as she said…
‘’Go to your room, and i’ll help you with your collection.’’
‘’You will?’’
‘’Yes, i will.’’
‘’Mmmhh…you promise?’’
Holding up his pinky finger to his mother��s face.
‘’Pinky promise?’’
The mother smiled, holding up her pinky thus connecting with her child.
Signifying her promise to him.
‘’Pinky promise, my son.’’
‘’Pinky promise.’’
The child went off to his room, as the mother watched on.
As her expression twisted, her thoughts plagued her as she stood.
Heart racing as…
The door opened, creaking loudly as it could.
Turning around slowly, she heard.
‘’Jeanette, it happened.’’
‘’What happened?’’ She uttered, eyes shaking as she looked down at the figure in Ace’s hold breathing slowly.
As she looked in horror and awe.
In horror from bloodied he looked yet still was radiant like the angel he was but he was no angel anymore.
He was…
‘’He fell.’’
A Fallen Angel.
‘’Is he going to be okay?’’ she asked, looking him over as ace walked.
Placing him on the couch, covering him with his jacket.
Concealing Paul’s naked body, putting a pillow under his head.
Watching over him.
Tending to him.
Fingers stroking through his locks of hair.
Looking at him with a look that only a lover would know as…
‘’Ace.’’
‘’Mhm?’’
‘’Is he going to be okay?’’
Jeanette asked worryingly, bending down. Looking over at Paul as she reached for a towel nearby, wiping Paul’s face gently.
The silence grew between them, as the towel became coated more with the red and brown.
Tainting it, Like Ace tainted…
His lover.
Taking him away from the very home he called heaven.
Taking him away from his friends.
Family.
Taken him away from everything he loved dearly and knew all because they….
Gotten close.
Became more than friends.
Became more than something.
Then just a thing, as they…
Made love.
Love that…
Gotten Paul to be banished all because of him.
Ace.
‘’Is he going to be okay?’’
Jeanette asked, again.
Snapping Ace out of his thoughts, he turned to Paul.
Then the outside.
Then his wife.
Then, finally Paul.
He took a deep breath, bending down.
Close enough to Paul, as he heard the shaky breath coming out from him as he said.
‘’I Don’t know.’’
Was in the mood to write, for angst and spacechild so here's some angst ;D.
i'm not going to apologize for what i've done in this, so catch me outside~ (i'm sorry.)
@starry-eyed-never-satisfied
@elrohare
@ohblackdiamond
@sluttery-withoutshame
@angelbambisworld
@krisspng
@insanityisdivine
@genesstankycodpiece
@speckster
@ladyshandioftheendless
and anyone else who'll read this~
So, tootalooo~
Love, Butters ♡
#butters speaking#kiss#kiss band#kiss army#kissblr#paul stanley#Spacechild#ace frehley#kiss fic#Ace/Paul#fallen angel au#I was writing this while I was talking to ELRO XD
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Can I shamelessly recommend my own fic “Burning at the Centre of Time” on ao3 (username The_Infamous_Jack)? It’s a post-season 2 fic involving Crowley and Aziraphale fighting against the Second Coming together, but Aziraphale is a Fallen Angel after the Metatron decided to damn him to Hell. Part of Aziraphale’s punishment also involves his voice being taken away from him, so he and Crowley communicate through sign language.
It’s currently a WIP but all the tags have been listed and (if things go well) it will have regular updates! Thank you for all the work this blog does, the fandom really appreciates it <3
Of course you can, my dear. I do hope you are proud of your achievements!
Burning at the Centre of Time by The_Infamous_Jack [Rated T, 33K in progress]
It’s been a few months since Crowley last saw Aziraphale, and in that time he has distracted himself from their last meeting (and first kiss) with teaching Muriel about Earth and discovering accidental glimpses of their own religious trauma. Meanwhile, Crowley is unaware of what Aziraphale has been put through by the Metatron back up in Heaven, but revelations will hit him the day of the Second Coming when he finally comes face to face with his angel once more.
The problem is… Crowley doesn’t even know if this is the same angel. The same angel he had once danced with in 1941 to the new Vera Lynn song, the angel who had once burnt himself with Hellfire just to heal Crowley’s own wounds back in the Middle Ages. The fierce determination has stayed the same, but has his soul been replaced with an icy coldness borne from months of working under the Metatron’s thumb? And are the two going to be able to save the world for a second time when the author has decided to interpret “they aren’t talking” in a more literal sense than was ever intended?
-Mod AB
#good omens#crowley#aziraphale#Good Omens fanfic#Good Omens fanfiction#Good Omens fic recs#Post S2#mind the tags#Mod AB#fallen angel aziraphale
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Chapters: 16/42
Fandom: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Rating: Explicit
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Summary:
Heaven is so high up that once you’re there, Aziraphale realizes the only way out is to fall.
In an attempt to stop the apocalypse once more, he steals the Book of Life and Jesus’s soul, placing him back on Earth as Adam’s brother. Now suspended somewhere between falling and fallen, Aziraphale needs help from the only one he can trust to navigate his new life. The same demon he rejected a lifetime ago.
Despite how they parted, Crowley can't turn his back on the aching angel, working through his pain and heartache as they slowly inch towards one another, acting on millennia of bottled-up feelings and desire.
The only problem? Adam’s powers are still alive, and he wants everybody to have their “happy ever after” in his town.
Or else.
--------
Chapter summary:
He shall fall.
Agnes Nutter’s second book of prophecies, prophecy 232.
----------
Read here:
https://archiveofourown.org/chapters/140430040
@goodomensafterdark
#fanfic#fic#good omens#aziracrow#fallen angel#fallen aziraphale#crowley#smut with plot#smut with feelings#imaginary season 3#post season 2#second coming#ineffable husbands#ineffable idiots#hurt/comfort#angst#angst with a happy ending#demon aziraphale
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Gonna be honest, I’m still rolling Sinner!Adam around in my head like an entertaining ball of yarn but now I have a conundrum.
If I did hypothetically write a ficlet about wing care (because I’m a sucker for wing fics) featuring Lucifer taking pity on Adam’s fucked up wing and showing him basic fucking wing care while tearing into him about it because how the fuck does he not know this shit and it’s snowballing from there and fuck Adam’s dropping trauma without realising it and oh fuck.
Okay I’m starting to get the appeal of Adamsapple/Guitarduck but in the way only an Asexual Panromantic person can.
But like- would anyone actually like to read that is the thing?
Edit: it has come to my attention that maybe I should link the actual finished product here so:
#sinner adam#fallen angel adam#adam hazbin hotel#lucifer hazbin hotel#lucifer#adams apple#guitarduck#I guess??#wing fic#should i do it?#maybe make a comic?#idk
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i should be writing fics instead of digital notes for anatomy & physio.. also new series coming soon !! hopefully i'll finish a series this time <3
#niki says ⊹ 𓂃 ｡ ‧ ₊#turning the fallen angel! dazai fic into a two-three chapters worth of series !!
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tw drugs (this is a tokyorev writing shitpost nothing serious)
I have a confession. the only reason I never finished fallen angels (sanzu fic) is because I can no longer do drugs thanks to my meds and I do not know what being on md/ma is like. If someone would like to share their experiences please feel free to do so 🙏 because sometimes I miss writing stockholm syndrome 😔 but can't take on the psychological damage 🧠 or cancellation risk ❌ of hell fic 👿 so fallen angels is all I got 💔
#i was thinking about all my dc fics and i was like which one can i update without getting cancelled (again)#i think its fallen angels#the fandom is mostly dead so i think the risk is low 😍#yueshuo#cw.drugs#tw drugs
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“Francesca”
Fallen angel!Eddie x Angel!reader ( a part of Mochiro’s halloween blurbs)
TRIGGER WARNING: descriptive self-harm, ANGST. LIKE,HEAVY ANGST, hurt/no comfort, religious passages and imagery.
Author’s note: SURPRISE!! This is heavily inspired by Hozier’s “Francesca” from his new album, Unreal Unearth. (Give it a listen for more feels hehe) I am not by any means trying to disrespect or impose ideas about religion. This is just my imagination even though the passages are from the bible. I have only noted them for more depth and understanding of this short wee-blurb. (At least for me its short hehe) this is not beta’d as usual so I might edit it in the future. Sorry for any mistakes ૮₍˶ ╥ ‸ ╥ ⑅₎ა
Like,comment, and reblog if you can pls! 🥹
Whom have I in heaven but you? And earth has nothing I desire besides you. (Psalm 73:25)
The light shone through the branches of the trees slowly swaying with the wind,through the stained glass adorning the temple where the angels kneel and pray to their father. From day to night, they hail his name and pray, wishing all beings of earth united till the end of its days.
The temple is slowly becoming empty, each angel filling out of the place to go back to their post after the morning prayer. You stood up from your kneeling position, delicate hands dusting your white clothes as you look around for an angel that always takes your breath away.
And there he was,standing tall, his wings neatly folded behind in his back. His eyes gleaming in gold were already focused on you. Soft,golden curls adorning the frame of his face that suit his golden eyes and delicate pale skin. You gave him the biggest smile that you can muster, footsteps getting faster before he meets you in the middle and swooped you up for a hug.
Holding you gently to avoid hurting you and your wings, he peered down with a smile adjacent to yours. “Hello my sweet little angel. My little cherub.” The title made your nose scrunch,making him giggle. “Hello, Eddie. The archangel of mine.” You softly whispered, a blush slowly blooming in your cheeks when you felt his warmth on your body. He lowered you down slowly, intertwining your hands together while you both walk out of the temple.
“How is your sleep?” You looked up at him under your lashes, face laced with worry as you notice the slightly darker hue under his eyes becoming more and more apparent each day that passes. It looks like its slowly ruining the serenity that is always seen on his face. Eddie gave you a small smile, lovingly tucking some loose strands of your hair behind your ear.
“I am fine, my angel. I have been having more.. nightmares as each day passes. I am going to have a meeting with father soon, maybe he knows where all of this are coming from. His face became a bit solemn, golden-eyes looking tired. The heavy weight of silence weighed on you both, scared at the possible meaning of his dreams. No. You cannot afford that to happen. The prophecy— it should not be him; you thought to yourself as the spirit inside of you felt a surge of uneasiness.
You stopped walking beside him, making him halt as he looks at you with confusion. Your soft hands felt warm on his cheeks when you grabbed his face. Your eyes pleaded for him, you pillow-like lips placing a soft kiss on his forehead. A kiss full of genuine love that surpasses all heavenly beings known. A kiss higher than heaven where you both reside. A kiss full of wishes that you will be spending the eternity with him.
A kiss full of pleading that he stays with you even when all things crumble.
And have mercy on those who doubt (Jude 1:22)
A loud sound had woken you up from your deep slumber, making you scramble on the other side of the bed, looking for a certain figure as you try to open your eyes. The silky sheets felt cold beneath your touch, taking away the sleepiness in your being.
You were about to stand up to look for him before someone pushed the door open, the familiar golden wavy curls peaking from it. Eddie walked in to your room, the bags underneath his eyes getting darker and darker each day.
He sat beside you, hands red for unknown reason as if he had been washing it for the hundred time. You clutched the covers close to your chest, voice slightly wavering when his eyes found yours.
“Eddie.. Eddie, my love, what happened?” His lips slowly trembled, his eyes glassy as he try to blink his tears away. Gulping, he took such a deep sigh and took your hands to his, pressing it onto his chest.
“Angel.. me— me and father had an argument.” He gently whispered, looking down at your hands that are emitting warmth and comfort. “It started with me.. telling him I am having nightmares. Dreams. Dreams that I am not supposed to have as one of his archangels.” Eddie paused, his eyes now glued on your as he continue.
Your heart beats loudly within your chest, an ominous feeling looming in. It was slowly getting harder to breathe as you search his eyes for anything that might give you a clue. Nodding your head, you urged him to continue.
“I— I did not know what happened. Then I voiced out how— how I think humans deserve more. How, maybe— maybe they needed to be taught more instead of being challenged or their faith being tested.. it became— it became a massive argument. Father said I am slowly turning into a different- different being. And I denied it. As I think I am not. I am still the same! I— I made him understand that it isn’t just me that were against the way. That there were other angels that felt that way too. He looked at me in disappointment. In shame. I-I do not understand why!”
Eddie’s voice boomed, the loud sound bouncing off the walls while the beating of your heart can be heard in your ears. A lone tear cascaded down your cheek, watching your lover slowly crumble before you as he wrap his arms around you. His broken sobs replicating his emotions, raw and just— broken.
You clutched him close to you, closing your eyes in sadness while more tears dripped down. Your hands found its way in his wings, caressing the feathers lovingly, trying to ease his pain.
Kissing the top of his head as you comfort your lover, your breath hitched when you noticed something different. Your gut falling on the depths of fear, eyes widening as your breathing completely stopped.
Eddie took notice of the sudden stillness of your actions, pulling back a tad bit to look at you, confusion swirling in his puffy red eyes.
“What— what’s wrong, angel?”
A gasp left your mouth, pulling your hands back to cover it as you’re now the one slowly crumbling in his embrace.
“No.. oh— oh gods no! N-not you. No— no Eddie it cannot be you!” Emotions are now overwhelming your whole being, you feel lightheaded, as if fate is pulling such a cruel joke on the two of you. Panic slowly settling in as you clasp your hands together, bowing in prayer. You were reciting every prayer you know in such a way that Eddie cannot even comprehend and understand each word.
He took hold of your shoulders, shaking you once in such a force that snapped you out of the frenzy you are feeling. “What is wrong! Tell me!”
Glazed eyes looking at his freckled skin, you whispered.
“Eddie.. your hair.. is turning black. The— the prophecy.. is you.”
And the fifth angel blew his trumpet, and I saw a star fallen from heaven to earth, and he was given the key to the shaft of the bottomless pit. (Revelation 9:1)
All you have seen from Eddie before you got pulled away was red.
Red was dripping from his back, his pristine-white wings that once adorned his back are now gone, being replaced by a huge gaping wound where his wings were once attached. His hands and nails now adorned with dried blood from ripping his wings apart by himself, body full of clawing marks when he tried to tore more of himself before the father and his seraphims.
The brown doe-eyes of his are now gone, black replacing every inch of the eyes that you love. Hair as black as ebony and the night sky combined, the only thing remaining of him was his pale skin and the smile that he always gives you.
He was contesting the higher angels, the thrones and dominions. Other angels behind him before the trumpet was blown, everyone immediately running with their swords unsheathed, craving for blood and peace which made you laugh with how you have never thought both to be in the same sentence.
You watched with wide eyes and trembling hands before running towards him, trying to push away every angel that slams on you while you try to reach him. He stands in the middle, face somber while watching the bloodshed happening around him, the seraphim holding its ground, voice eerily unsettling as he spoke in tongues.
Eddie looked up at him, showing wide-menacing grin before he answered in the same manner. You shouted his name, repeating it like a prayer before his head turned into your direction.
You stopped in front of him, wiping the blood away from his face while your tears kept on coming down. You shook your head before turning around to face the seraphim.
“Please..” you pleaded, voice hoarse and raw with pain, guilt, and repentance. “Please.. once more. Just give him a chance once more..” the seraphim knew what you were pleading for, closing its eyes to let you deliver your message directly to your father.
“He is misunderstood. He just needs another chance. He— he needs our prayers. He needs us. Father— father please. I beg of you. I beg for your kindness. I beg for your forgiveness. I shall kneel my whole life! Just— just forgive him and let him be with me, here in your house, for eternity! Let me pay for his sins!” Your voice cracked, hands clasped as you shield your lover from the Seraphim’s eyes that are void of emotions and just a glowing light, slowly closing its eyes. You were willing to do anything for eternity just for them to forgive Eddie.
You were willing to die for him again and again if that would be enough to repay and repent for the sins that he did. For the chaos he unleashed.
Eddie hated the way your voice trembled, the way you are ready to sell yourself to the higher beings just for him to be forgiven. His emotions were swirling inside his head, his grip on his sword slowly getting tighter as he gets ready to push you aside and stab the seraphim in front of him. He almost moved before the seraphim opened its eyes once more, a booming sound from the skies was heard.
“No, child. It is not your sins for you to repent. It is not your tears for you to cry. It is not your decision for you to ask. Now, move. Or he will feel the everlasting sadness and fall into the depths, not only of the place I prepared for him, but also the depth of his broken heart.”
You shook your head, tears still flowing as you whisper broken prayers as you sob.
The seraphim closed his eyes before opening it once again, another voice that sounds like 10 angels are speaking at the same time was heard.
“Very well. Now, you have made your choice.”
It happened in a split second, a bright light blinded you before you felt a dull pain in your chest. Red bloomed on your chest that is now bearing a hole, making you clutch it as you fall into your knees. Eddie gasped, letting go of his longsword and immediately kneeling beside you, pulling you close.
“No— no my angel.. no.. no this c-can’t— can’t be— no no no” Eddie repeatedly called out your true name, his tears washing away the blood splattered in his face as he watch the pink of your cheeks disappear, the life in your body slowly escaping his reach and slowly drifting away towards the hands of a foe and a friend, death.
The now dark-haired angel clutch you close to him, trying to pour his heavenly magic even though he knows its worthless. Yet he still tried, draining his energy and emotions. You just gave him the biggest smile the you can muster, laying your bloodied hand on his cheeks and rubbing it gently.
“Maybe..” you breathed out, feeling it your eyelids slowly becoming heavy. “H-heaven is not .. fit to house..” you clutched your chest in pain, heaving as you try to finish your sentence.
“Maybe.. heaven is not fit to house.. a love like you and I..” you managed to breath out. Eyes smiling when your hand slowly cascade down his cheek.
“I would not change it each time.. heaven is not fit to house a love like you and I.”
Your hand dropped, as well as his tears.
And with your last breath.
You showed him the greatest love.
Greater than god.
Higher than the heavens.
#eddie munson#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson au#stranger things#stranger things fic#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fandom#halloween#halloween blurb#fallen angel!eddie munson#angel!eddie munson#fanfic#unreal unearth#angel!reader#mochiro’s halloween blurb 💖#mochi writes 💖#eddie munson smut#eddie munson angst#eddie munson x fem!reader angst#eddie munson x fem!reader
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YOU CAN CHOOSE A LITTLE HELL
Young angel Dean has made a fatal mistake - he engaged the Fallen Seraph Castiel, Angel of Solitude and Tears, in battle. However, he's managed to catch the more powerful being's interest, and gets swept off to Hell instead of killed. Now, he sees a new side of the Fallen Ones, and most especially of Castiel himself. Now it's not his life that's in danger, but his heart.
I had the pleasure of working with the amazing @ladyknightskye during this year's @deancasreversebang
I'm so pleased with the result of our collab, the story is written so well and I got hooked up on the plot from the first page! A massive thank you for claiming my art! ♡
#deancas reverse bang#dcrb'23#destiel#destiel art#destiel fic#deancas#deancas art#deancas fic#dean winchester#dean winchester art#castiel#castiel art#angel!dean#fallen!cas#spn#spn art#spn fic#supernatural#supernatural art#supernatural fic#vmart#vin.jpg
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