#and he's had problems with the angels rather than with Heaven itself | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fushigowo · 2 years

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𝐌𝐘 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐈𝐍 | 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀

╰┈➤ devil!sukuna x angel!reader

╰┈➤ synopsis: it’s forbidden for angels to give in to lust and temptation. yet you were willing to break those rules to profess your love for a devil. what your dearest love can also be your dearest sin.

╰┈➤ warnings: religious themes, suggestive themes, profanity, objectification, voyeurism, corruption kink, manipulation, degrading language, mean to soft sukuna, lovesick sukuna, fluff (??), passionate sukuna, no smut yet but it will come in the next part, it only involves the plot for now :>

╰┈➤ a/n: thank youu all so muchh for the reblogs, comments, and likes/notes i’ve been getting from the previous fics i’ve posted!! it really gives me motivation knowing that ppl here like what i write :'> i’ll try to write and post as much as i can!! y’all are the best <3 also, i’m thinking of making a taglist so if anyone wanna join, just ask me or send me a message!! :> i can’t believe this took me two weeks to finish (⊙_◎)

╰┈➤ PART I ➸ PART II

Ryōmen Sukuna loathes your existence.

The odd thing about this is that angels are not supposed to feel hatred, especially for fellow angels. Yet here he is, trying to control his emotions despite it being stronger than him to fight. Ryōmen Sukuna tells himself that you are the problem for creating such hatred in him. Well, not just hatred. He knows it’s not just hatred but lust, temptation, and the feeling of corruption creeping through his immortal being.

And it’s all your fault.

His downfall is your fault and he’d make you pay for it. Even it takes him to become one with hell, he’ll make you pay for it.

Heaven might be a paradise yet the forest is your safe haven. The rustling of the leaves and branches made by the chilly breeze of the spring forest along with the gaps of sunlight from the trees and bubbling streams has become your favorite music that nature could ever create. With your care and frequent visit, life in this forest has been filled with nothing but peace.

However, peace doesn’t even begin to explain how much you consider this forest as a paradise more than Heaven because of him.

The man with light pink hair and a bright smile that could light up the entire woods, even Hell itself could be lit up by the charming smile of your mortal friend. Though your kind is not supposed to associate themselves with mortal beings, you couldn’t help but befriend this special one.

Every time you went to the forest, he’d be there to greet you with a warm smile that could make the flowers bloom in the middle of winter, as if it’s springtime once again. You never had a friend like him back in Heaven and it’s making you think about how mortals should be considered as angels because of how gentle and good they are. Well, you didn’t think of it much when your friend, Yuuji, told you about other mortals being… evil and he didn’t even bother sugarcoating it.

Yuuji told you the evilness of mortals to be rather descriptive than necessary. The smile on his face suddenly disappeared and that was the first time you saw him become so serious when talking about something.

There is no evil without the existence of humanity, he says in the most grim way possible that sent shivers down your spine and angel wings. Then, his face went from serious to being cheery once again.

Sometimes you wonder what kind of bad side Yuuji has. Despite being a pure and holy being from Heaven, you know that humans aren’t pure in their own ways. They are good but also not, they are bad but also not. They are beings who balance both good and bad, light and darkness, and you think it’s a rather good thing for them to balance two aspects of life. However, when it comes to dying, there are no places for both evil and good. There are only Heaven and Hell. If one can repent from their sins or pass judgment from God, they can enter the gates of Heaven where paradise finally awaits. You don’t have much knowledge when it comes to Hell and you don’t want to know about it. You are a child of God; one who does not associate with the idea of Hell or the devil.

Despite Yuuji’s warm personality, he had made you realize things about mortals. He told you that some mortals do things for their own interests, which often results to selfishness; he told you that most mortals are corrupt in some ways; and he even told you that there are mortals that don’t even believe there is a God. At first you think Yuuji was saying a bunch of absurdity yet he is not the type of person who jokes about this stuff. He doesn’t find it amusing every time he talks about the impurity of mortals. It is only God who watches everything from above. Angels only guide souls to their journey to the afterlife and to Heaven. God is the only one who can judge and yet you’re starting to think that no human could ever be so pure to enter the gates of Heaven.

“Y/N! Look!” Yuuji calls out.

“What is it?” you ask as you hide behind the bushes with him.

“It’s a stag,” he replies like his eyes are sparkling. “It’s so pretty!”

You flash the man a smile to agree with his statement.

The two of you adores the scenery of the forest being enchanting as ever. With the sunlight radiating the woods through the gaps of leaves from the trees and the sounds of streams echoing around the tranquil landscape, it made you think about how romantic the scene is around you and Yuuji. Whenever Yuuji smiles, you can’t help but compare his beauty to the first bloom of snowdrops in spring; how a single change can make a scenery so majestic.

You chuckle at yourself, thinking that you don’t make sense every time you think about Yuuji.

Perhaps humans don’t make sense when they are in love. The only problem is… I’m no human.

You couldn’t recall how long you and Yuuji had been spending time together. Time flies by so fast that you had lost count. It’s out of your mind right now since whenever you try to remember the first time you and Yuuji had met in the forest, your thoughts would always be filled with Yuuji and it’s him alone that you could think of.

However, your feelings for Yuuji is unacceptable. The both of you are from different worlds; for you are a spirit from Heaven and he is a mortal from Earth. As much as you want to confess your deep emotions for him, you can’t bring yourself to do such absurdity. You don’t even know if Yuuji would reciprocate your feelings. If he did reject you, he would do it in the nicest way possible. But you can’t shrug off the feeling of pain stinging inside your chest at only the thought of Yuuji rejecting your feelings for him. The only thing you could do right now is to repress your emotions until you are ready to confess your feelings for him.

Yuuji is the warmest person you’ve ever met, that he could be compared to the first glimpse of sunlight at a new day. Of course, if he rejected you, it would break your heart into bits until your soul is full of darkness and the world from your point of view would become so bleak.

Itadori Yuuji would be your biggest heartbreak.

Ryōmen Sukuna thinks you’re so easy.

Itadori Yuuji is a persona or a façade made solely for you in order to have you in Sukuna’s grasp. It sickens him how he has to act all warm and lively towards someone like you and yet he thinks it’s not for naught. Sukuna can notice your infatuated state towards him and he thinks of how amusing you are when you’re trying your best to make Yuuji think that you’re pretty. Despite Itadori Yuuji and Ryōmen Sukuna being two different personas, they both share the same minds. They both think of how easy you can be corrupted; how easy you are as a target for demons; and how guillable and naïve you are.

How pathetic can she be to be easily swayed by words full of lies.

The devil is the embodiment of every evil thing and the nemesis of good and virtue. Of course, he knows to himself that he is not keeping you company because he likes you. Sukuna finds the idea of falling in love with your kind disgusting and depraved. One of the reasons why he wanted to fall is to corrupt angels as well as mortals because he seeks the thrill and fun of ruining someone so he can devour their soul and pull them to the depths of Hell where a painful eternity awaits.

Now that Sukuna finally made you fall for him, it can be easy for him to manipulate you by acting as if he wants to have a relationship with you; a forbidden affair that Heaven and God forbids. If you are willing to break those rules just by being with your mortal love, then you can easily be tempted to commit a sin so that he can corrupt you and finally devour your impure soul, just as he always wanted.

If he wanted to corrupt your soul, he first must tempt you to give in; break your heart and leave you; and if you’re foolish enough to beg for him to come back to you, then you’ll fully be in his grasp.

Now, Sukuna finds himself in the forest with your company. But he’s not Sukuna—he’s playing as Itadori Yuuji, a man so warm and so pleasant that even if he breaks your heart, you can’t bring yourself to hate him.

“Why do you like flowers so much?” he asks.

“Because each one of them has their own meanings. The language of flowers are something I find interesting,” you reply and hands him a daffodil. “Daffodils means honesty and truth; Tulip means irresistible love. If I had the chance to live another life, I would tend to many flowers as much as I can.”

“Here,” you say as you hand him a gardenia flower.

“What does this mean?” Yuuji asks.

Sukuna is also wondering what the flower you gave him means.

“It’s a secret,” you smile, which made Sukuna raise an eyebrow at the sudden nervousness he felt as he witness your sweet smile.

The devil curses to himself, wondering what the flower and the sudden nervousness mean. However, he shrugs the thought of your damn flowers and their damn meanings and the nervousness and rapid race of his heartbeat. He doesn’t have to think about unnecessary things such as this. He doesn’t have to stress himself out because of you. He wants your soul and he’s so close to getting it. He just needs you to give in to him and to temptation.

As soon as you’re about to stand up, Yuuji catches your arm and your gaze turn to him. The man didn’t utter a word yet the longing gaze in his eyes already tell a thousand words and you wanted him to say all of it.

“Yuuji,” you whisper.

“Y/N,” he whispers back.

“Your eyes are pretty.”

“Will you kiss it for me?”

Yuuji pulls you closer towards him, foreheads almost touching as he cages you in his warm embrace. The both of you are staring deeply into each other’s eyes as if you and him are the only ones existing in this world, nothing else matters but this moment between the two of you. You stand on your toes to reach Yuuji’s eyes, pressing your soft and tender lips on one of his closed eyes and fluttering it open to meet yours. Yuuji gives you smile before leaning down to kiss your forehead and cage you in his arms.

This moment; this one single moment when you feel like Heaven is nothing compared to feeling Yuuji’s kiss will soon be ruined as Sukuna grins to himself in a vile manner.

Yuuji drags his fingers under your chin, allowing you to look up at him before he gently presses his lips on yours. His kiss is so passionate as if he’s touching a delicate flower, pressing his fingers so softly and afraid of ruining its lovely petals. That’s how Yuuji cups your cheeks as he deepens the kiss between the two of you. Your hands travel up to hug him around his neck.

“Y/N,” he whispers in between your lips. “Meet me under his tree later evening. Will you be here?”

“I will, my love,” you smile.

Later that night, you travel back to the forest during the bright, full moon. You let yourself bask under the moonlight without any care for the world around you; for the only one you have in your mind right now is the presence of your mortal love, Yuuji.

As your feet take you deeper and deeper in the forest to your usual spot, your ears twitch when you hear sounds coming from the willow tree. It was not a common sound that can be heard in forests. Despite the crickets and howls hooting in the distance along with the gushing of the wind and bubbling streams, you can clearly hear the peculiar sounds coming from the willow tree.

There, your eyes widen when you meet an unsettling gaze of lust and debauchery that was rather new and unfamiliar to your angelic being. The rawness of the imagery has your body stunned and your throat dry. The odd feeling in your body has sent fire that courses through your immortal blood, building a tingly sensation down your crotch that had you rubbing your legs together as you lock your gaze on the sinful view in front of your own pure eyes.

What’s even compelling is that it is your mortal love, Yuuji, who’s kissing an unknown maiden, which made your soul and heart ache inside your chest. Only, the more you stare at the impure sight in front of you, the more you notice something out of the ordinary.

He has a mortal woman in his embrace, kissing her sinful lips so passionately as his hands wander around every curves of her body, including the same part where you felt something tingly. That was not even the sight that had you feel so odd. It was the sight of him caging the woman in his arms so tight as he pounds himself into her, which explains the noises that had you curious.

It’s not Yuuji. The way his hands travel around the curves of the woman’s body; the way he kisses her; the way he makes a grin; it’s not him.

“Sukuna…” The woman mumbles.

Sukuna…

You heard that name before and yet your mind can’t seem to pull itself together now that you’re feeling such an unfamiliar thing coursing through your veins. You try your best to remember where you heard that name before but now you’re sure that it’s not Yuuji. You didn’t know whether it would be a relief for you.

You know it’s not Yuuji yet why does the scene makes you feel like your body is heating up?

Your lips part as you gulp. Your heavy breaths has you questioning your own body as you can’t seem to turn your gaze away from the lustful sight. Your vision is locked on Sukuna as he kisses the woman in the most passionate yet lustful way you’ve ever seen. His eyes are closed yet you can clearly point out how he memorized the body of the woman in his embrace.

Through the luminescence of the moonlight basking the sight from above, you descry Sukuna’s eyes open as you keep your gaze on him, attempting to ignore the woman in his arms. Sukuna’s eyes are open and yet his lips are still sealed on hers. With your attention being so caught up by the sinful sight in front of you, you are not in the right mind to hide and take your glance away. It was a shameful feeling for you as soon as Sukuna’s gaze met yours, his lips still kissing the woman and you swore, you swore you had seen his lips create a taunting smile as he kept his eyes on yours despite making out with another woman.

As soon as you realize what you had done, you immediately take off your gaze from the man and hide behind the tree, scolding and trying to repent from the sin that you’ve committed and yet your body knows what you’re truly feeling. The trembling of your lips and the needy feeling from below is out of your control.

Why is this man making you feel like this? He’s not Yuuji, yet their appearance are so similar to each other. But the way he touches her, it’s really not Yuuji.

Still, you have to repent from watching the lustful sight before you.

Repent. Repent. Forgive me, God, for I have sinned. I come to you in humility and sorrow, aware of my wrongdoing, and prepared to turn from it. Lord, I have sinned against you—

“Give yourself to me,” Sukuna mumbles but was enough to create an echo through your ears. “Tell me you’re mine… body, mind, and soul.”

Your prayers were suddenly halted by Sukuna’s demonic voice calling out to you.

It was a battle between virtue and vice in your own immortal being, unaware that the wickedness is overwhelming the righteousness. The quivering of your legs and the unfamiliar feeling between them has your hands traveling down your crotch and shutting your thighs tight in hopes of stopping the presence of lust in your pure and holy body. Your trembling breath and the rapid movement of your chest heaving up and down has you whimpering because of how sinful your body is reacting.

“Say it. Say you’re mine,” Sukuna mumbles. “Your body, your mind, your soul, you’re all mine.”

“I’m all yours, Sukuna. Body, mind, and soul…”

You and the maiden in his embrace had both exclaimed in unison. Well, the maiden did exclaimed but not you. You whisper those words so quietly under your breath that you were unaware of what you had mumbled. It was the maiden’s voice that echoed throughout the area of the forest and yet it was your voice that echoed in Sukuna’s ears. It was as loud as the beating of his heart.

Sukuna smiles at the maiden in his arms that he just corrupted. Now, he’s going to devour her soul and make her suffer in Hell, where all sinners are punished for their sins.

“A painful eternity awaits for you, you filthy sinner,” he whispers.

Your eyes widen once you realize what you had done. Not only that you gave yourself into lust and temptation, but you also feel as if you’re being unfaithful to Yuuji after how your body reacted to another man—Sukuna.

You don’t even know this man and yet the way your body reacted to him was full of lust.

Even if you try recalling where you heard Sukuna’s name before, the guilt and regret had froze your mind from thinking. The only thing you could do now is to fly away from the lustful sight yet you couldn’t go back to Heaven anymore after knowing that you had sinned against God.

What have I done? What have I done, what have I done, what have I done?

When you are certain that you’re finally far from the scene, you rest yourself on the fallen tree near the lake that reflects the moonlight from above. You cannot seem to fly with a chaotic state of mind. Your wings are a gift from God and you can’t use it after knowing that you have sinned against Him. You cannot go back to Heaven, but God is watching from above, knowing your every little move. Seraphim angels will come looking for you. Those are the angel who are closer to God and much more powerful than your ranking. Even if you run away, they will come looking for you, a filthy sinner who will fall from Heaven sooner.

“Sinner. You filthy sinner. You have become the one thing that you swore you will not be and gave your soul into lust and temptation. The devil will devour you and drag you down to the depths of Hell, keeping you in eternal agony.”

A demonic voice surrounded your very being. It was different. The distorted voice of possibly hundred evil spirits surrounding you has you gripping your hair that your nails dig into your scalp as an attempt to stop the voices echoing in your ears. There is laughing, screaming, and crying all at the same time that made you cry out in pain yet every time you give in, the louder the voices get in your head. However, the voices were just a start when you suddenly feel sharp talons grazing the skin of your neck, making you look up at the pitch black skies with little to no stars, begging for the Lord to save you from these demons. Then again, God has no obligation to save you anymore, now that you have sinned. Not unless you repent.

Your only option is to repent so you get down on your knees. The dirt of the soil clings onto your knees and made a mess on your dress yet you couldn’t care less. You clasp your hands together and start praying.

“Dear Heavenly and All-Powerful God, I come to you in humility and sorrow, aware of my wrongdoing, and prepared to turn from it. Lord, I have sinned against you; please pardon me—”

Your prayers were stopped when you feel stinging pain on your entire back that quite possibly came from your wings that are now bleeding. The blood from your white wings cascaded down the soil of the earth and as soon as it dropped on the ground, a red smoke appeared as it waters the soil. You feel as if you’re carrying a heavy load on your back that your face is almost kissing the ground beneath you. Despite the pain and the demons surrounding you, you keep praying.

“Purify me, wash away my sin, and aid in my repentance. Instead, guide me to follow your path so I can leave behind my old life and begin a new one in you,” you cry.

Just when you are about to finish your prayer, you feel a pair of strong arms pull you in an embrace, burying your face on his clothing. From behind, you hear the cracking sound of the earth, followed by the shrieking, screaming, and crying in an agonizing pain of millions of people, pleading to set them free from the conflagration of Hell.

You didn’t dare look at the horrid sight behind you. Instead, you keep your face buried in the face of your savior.

The heavy weight from your back slowly lifts up when you sense something being dragged back to the gates of Hell. Then, the voices, the screaming, the shrieking, the crying, the sound of sizzling fire, everything disappeared. The silence and the sounds of nature at night only fill the atmosphere.

When you finally had the courage to look up, you see your lover’s gaze staring down at your teary eyes.

“Yuuji,” you mumble in a quivering voice. “I’m so scared.”

“Yuuji? I knew you were naïve but I did not think you were this foolish.”

His voice is different from Yuuji’s. It’s deeper and… sinister. It’s the opposite of the reason why you fell in love with him in the first place and you refuse to believe that the man whose arms are wrapped around you isn’t Itadori Yuuji.

“What are you talking about?” you ask.

“Itadori Yuuji,” he says, “is a persona or a façade, rather. You… really fell for it, didn’t you, child of God?” he chuckles before shoving you off the ground. His towering gaze shadowed you as the luminescence of the moonlight made his sinister expression clear.

“Then who are you?” you ask with your quivering voice, trying to stop yourself from bursting into tears. “If you’re not Yuuji, then who are you?”

“Huh… so you don’t recall?” Sukuna crouches down to meet your gaze.

The black marks on his face are even more noticeable now. It’s something that Yuuji doesn’t have.

Hot tears slowly cascade down your cheeks when you realize that the entire time… the entire time you were with Yuuji, you were played by this man all along. What means so much to you is nothing to him. You’re not crying over the fact that this man in front of you made you sin against God; you’re crying about the fact that your love wasn’t returned. What your first love is also your first heartbreak and it hurts as much as burning in Hell.

“Hundred years ago,” he says, “an angel fell from Heaven because he let his sins consume him. He gave in to lust and temptation. Hundred years after, that angel is now the devil ruling Hell.”

You remember now. Ryōmen Sukuna was once favored by God; the strongest amongst angels but was corrupted and gave in to his sins. He did not repent nor atone for it. Instead, he let God condemn him in Hell. Now, he’s the one ruling it.

“Sukuna…” you mumble. “Ryōmen Sukuna. You’re him. Why must you toy with me?” you gather up the courage to ask.

“Because it’s amusing,” he replies.

You try to stand up but the man grips your neck so suddenly that you gasped in his grasp. Sukuna is so strong that he lifts your entire body with one hand wrapped around you neck that you feet aren’t touching the ground anymore.

“Don’t even dare run away,” he whispers. “You don’t have anyone now except for demons hunting you. You cannot go back to that Heaven of yours either, knowing that you’ve sinned against your so-called God. I am the only one you have, sinner.”

With that, he lets go of your neck, letting yourself fall on the concrete. You cough as you try to catch your breath. Sukuna stands before you with a sinister grin on his face.

“Why didn’t you let that demon drag me to Hell?” you ask.

It took him a moment to answer.

“Because I'm the only creature from Hell who can devour your soul. No other being can take you away from me. Just as you said, you're all mine; body, mind, and soul.”

Ryōmen Sukuna cannot fathom his own feelings. The mixture of thrill, uneasiness, regret, lust, and bliss creates an unknown feelings within his immortal being. He cannot comprehend why he would feel such mix emotions. His mind does not have the capability to reminisce his memories from the last time he had felt something like this.

It has been days since you’ve committed a sin and until now, you have not yet repent. Truth be told, it flew out of your mind. You had been thinking how things would change if you fall from Heaven and it hasn’t bothered you. It was as if you are making peace with the idea that you will become a fallen angel, a demon alongside Sukuna.

On the other hand, the devil remained himself by your side until he decides to finally devour your soul and drag you down to his domain, Hell. His reason being that he doesn’t want any other demon or angel to take your soul from him, as he said.

Now, you are currently tending to your plants in the forest as if you had not sinned. The situation with Yuuji still makes your heart ache and even though Sukuna finally admits that Yuuji is someone who will lure you in his grasp, at the back of your mind, you still want him to act like Yuuji; you still want him to hold you like how Yuuji does; you still want him to kiss you like Yuuji once did.

“Sukuna! Look! The daffodils look wonderful in this season!” you smile at him as if he is not the devil from Hell and you’re not about to fall from Heaven. It’s the least of your worries now that you’re tending to plants.

“Brat, you still don’t understand that these things die if I step foot on it.” Sukuna frowns at you.

“Oh, of course,” you chuckle awkwardly before holding the hem of your dress and standing up. You run towards him with a bunch of daffodils on your hand and show it to him. “See how bright they are? They’re so yellow, aren’t they?” you smile.

Sukuna looks down on the flowers in your hands before looking at you in a confused manner.

“How come you’re still acting so childish even after all that has happened and after all that is happening?” Sukuna raises his voice, which made you look at him. “Demons and angels are out to get you and your God is going to punish you yet you’re here, showing the devil a bunch of flowers? How foolish can you be?” This time he yells at you and you couldn’t help but take a step back.

“I…” you whisper, “I am frightened about these recent events, Sukuna. I just can’t show it around you or… anyone. It makes my being vulnerable and it means I am an easy target for you or others.”

“Idiot,” Sukuna mumbles and flicks your forehead. His fingers travels down under your chin and forces your head to look up at him, which you did without any hesitation. “You need not to be scared around other creatures, fool. The only one who you should be scared of is the devil himself. Anyone who tries to lay even a finger on you is dead to me.”

“I am scared of you,” you say, “but I have no one else and I don’t know where to go. Like you said, you are the only one I have now. I am just occupying my mind from all these events but I am really scared.”

Then act like you are, damn it!

“Sukuna, I’m—ack!” you yelp when his callous hand suddenly wraps around your neck that you are now pinned against the tree and he’s using a little amount of strength to lift you off the ground, your feet not touching the concrete anymore.

“You trust the devil so easily. Your foolishness is going to get you killed,” he says, his red irises are glowing with anger as he stare into your terrified ones. “I told you that I am the only one you have… and yet, you are not doing anything about it. Are you easily going to give up? Let the devil and demons to devour you? Are you not going to repent? Or is there still hope in you that I will act like Itadori Yuuji again? If so, there’s no use keeping you around.”

The grip around your neck tightens as you cry and gasp for air that your mind is slowly turning blank, you didn’t notice how the earth suddenly shook and the ground below you cracked wide open, showing the conflagration of Hell from below where millions of hands are trying to drag you down with them. The shrieks and cries fills your ears that you couldn’t even cover your it since your hands are trying to loosen Sukuna’s grip.

When Sukuna finally sees your eyes full of fear with hot tears steaming down your eyes, his grip suddenly loosens, making him shut the gates of Hell again and lets go of your neck. You cough as Sukuna keeps you caged around his arms.

You are so terrified that your chest is raising up and down in a rapid pace to catch your breath because of your is beating so fast as if you had ran an entire marathon. The hot tears continue to cascade down your cheeks and as much as you want to run away from Sukuna, he keeps you caged in his arms until he suddenly rests his head on your shoulder, chuckling in a bitter way that sent shivers down your spine.

“You are the reason why I sinned,” he says. “You are the reason why I’m like this, but I don’t know if I should blame you for it. You shaped the hatred in me as well as lust and temptation, and I hated you for it. Until now, I still blame you, that’s why I’m trying to drag you down with me.”

Back when Sukuna was still an angel from the Heavens, you caught his eyes, his attention, his soul, you are the bane of his existence as an angel. You shaped the hatred in him as well as the lust and temptation that shouldn’t even exist in an angel in the first place. But he let these sins consume him, he didn’t dare to fight it because there is no way he’s going to win against feelings that he cannot control. Sukuna let himself fall to sin, which is why he was damned. He wanted to corrupt you; to see you so ruined because of him. He likes the idea of corrupting you into someone that he can claim as his. When you’re finally corrupted, your God will condemn you to Hell and you’ll become like him. You’ll become someone who Sukuna wants you to be; a fallen angel, a demon that he can finally call his. Never will he associate himself with your angelic form.

From the very beginning since he was an angel, Sukuna sees you as an object of his desires. He cannot deny that, yet he has no romantic or deep feelings towards you, which is why he let himself lust over you. You are the reason for his sins; the reason why he fell and he let himself. He was going to make you feel the same way. Now, he doesn’t know if he will.

“Even as a devil, you are still the bane of my existence,” he whispers.

“Sukuna,” you mumble. “Don’t you dare blame me for the sins you’ve committed. You gave in to temptation, so why should I be blamed?”

The sudden confession of Sukuna’s reason why he fell was shocking for your mind to fully function. You did not know how to react or what emotions you should show but when you heard it, it feels as if the your entire body became frozen that even if your thoughts cannot function properly. Until then, you distanced yourself from the devil and fortunately, he hasn’t shown his face to you yet.

Despite not seeing Sukuna’s physical being, you can still feel his presence surrounding you and there aren’t any demons hunting you yet. Of course, you had no second thought about thinking that Sukuna is still looking over you. You realized he’s keeping you safe from other demons yet that is not enough reason for you to make peace with him.

The more you spend some alone time, the more your thoughts keep flooding inside your mind. You thought about many things, especially about Sukuna and the sin you have committed that night. What Sukuna did wrong is that he tricked you by putting on a lovely façade that you once loved in order to keep you in his grasp. The more you think, that’s all there is about what Sukuna had done to you before you committed a sin. What you did wrong is that you were the one who gave in to lust and temptation. Perhaps Sukuna was not intending to corrupt you by making you watch him have intercourse with another woman. He did not force you to watch and you were the one who engaged into a sinful doing.

Your sins are your own fault, and you learned to accept it.

“Sukuna,” you call out.

After a few moments, the glimpse of ashes and smoke catches your attention and the grass and leaves surrounding the thick, black smoke had become withered and the life slowly descended out of it. As the smoke lifts up, a tall figure with pink hair spiked hair and with unique markings on his forehead, nose, cheeks. He wears a light-colored kimono with black edge, black scarf, and black shoes.

“You finally called for my presence,” he mumbles as he stares down at you. “Watching you tend to your awful plants all day long are rather boring, if I’m being honest.”

Lies. He enjoys watching you care for plants.

You didn’t bother answering. Your gaze travels down to the path that he walked on, seeing the dead grass and flowers that disturbed the beauty of the forest. “You’ve killed the path that you’ve set foot on.”

“I care little about it,” he says before letting himself vanish in black smoke then appears on top of a branch of an old willow tree behind you.

You and Sukuna are the complete opposite, obviously. With you being an angel, a kin of the Heavens, you have the ability to bring life back to the dead yet not when it comes to mortals whose time as finally come and accompany souls to the afterlife. On the other hand, Sukuna is the devil of Hell, who was once an angel who fell from the Heavens. Whatever path he walks on, death and chaos set in. It’s always been an obligation for angels to overwhelm demons but none seems to be powerful enough for the devil, for Sukuna, except God himself.

After bringing the grass and flowers back to life, you face him.

“Sukuna,” you say. “Your actions when you pretended to be someone you’re not—when you pretended to be Itadori Yuuji—is something that I cannot bring myself to forgive. You are the one to blame for your own sins and I am to blame for mine.”

“Stop saying such nonsense and get to the point,” he scoffs. “Did you really think I feel bad about pretending to be someone I am not? I am the devil. Such action is not worth regretting for.”

“Itadori Yuuji,” you mumble, “was once a part of you. You were an angel and I can’t help but think that his personality was once yours before you fell. Sukuna, it will not hurt to bring those two together and balance each other out.”

“What are you muttering about?” Sukuna asks in an annoyed manner with his eyebrows furrowed. “Itadori Yuuji is gone. That bastard was nothing but a weakling and a follower of a so-called God. There is no balance in Heaven and Hell, fool. There can only be good and evil.”

“And yet we are not in Heaven or in Hell,” you say. “We are in the world of mortals, where everything, including good and evil, are balanced. Itadori Yuuji and Ryōmen Sukuna are two different souls. So, if we are to stay here in the world of mortals, you must merge them together and create balance between them.”

“Why should I take orders from a naïve angel such as you? You know nothing about this vile world and yet you say such things as if merging Itadori Yuuji and Ryōmen Sukuna together will create balance. What nonsense.”

“Oh, but, Sukuna, you were the one who told me about the reality of this world in the form of Itadori Yuuji,” you smile.

Sukuna scoffs before turning his back against you.

He hates how right you were.

IN THE MEANTIME, you and Sukuna learn how to get along with each other. It was easier for you yet he keeps testing your patience. Every time you would ramble about something—usually about flowers—he would brush you off and would make mean comments and order you to stop rambling and give the both of you a moment of silence. Sometimes, you wonder how good of an actor he was when he pulled of acting as Itadori Yuuji.

At night, you would lay on the rough grass surrounded by flowers in the forest where the moonlight can be easily seen. As you lay asleep, Sukuna would remain awake and keep guard about demons and other creatures coming for you. Sometimes, his glimpse would suddenly catch your sleeping face and he couldn’t help but stare at how peaceful you look.

“Sukuna!” you call out in a laughing manner. “I found a lake! The water is so warm!” you cheer.

He hates how childish you are but you told him you were only trying to have fun.

“The water is so fucking dirty,” he replies.

“Because it’s a lake,” you laugh when the water is now on the level of your knees as you hold your dress up so it won’t get soaked. “I don’t remember feeling this thrilled back when I was in Heaven—Sukuna! You are completely missing this!” you run towards him, splashing the water around you which soaked your dress but you paid no attention to it.

You try to drag Sukuna to join you in the lake by clinging onto his arm and pulling him to you but the devil tried his best to resist, which resulted to the both of you falling down the shallow part of the lake, soaking the both of you. Sukuna was pretty much angry at you to this point but you just laughed at his reaction.

The devil didn’t know whether he’d be pissed or… relieved that he finally saw a glimpse of your smile and laughter again after avoiding him for what felt like a hundred years for him.

It’s the same smile you show to Itadori Yuuji.

After drying yourselves off, you tend to your flowers again. This time, you tell Sukuna to keep you company despite being the grass and the flowers withering and decaying underneath his feet. He refused at first, of course, and his reason being that the plants wither and die if he steps foot.

“It’s alright, Sukuna,” you smile. “I enjoy watching them wither away.”

“What does this mean again?” he asks, holding a withered daisy flower in his hand.

Sukuna is sitting with his legs crossed and one elbow on top of his thigh, his hand cupping his chin in a bored manner. However, his ears and thoughts are focused on every word you are saying as if your voice is the only thing occupying your mind despite the sounds of the forest surrounding you. It’s quite odd for Sukuna to listen attentively to your words. He keeps telling himself that he cares little about the things you ramble about, but his mind, soul, and heart knows otherwise.

“Innocence, loyal love, purity,” you take the flower from his hand gave its life back to it, its white petals gleams under the radiant sunlight. “Yuuji gave this to me once.”

Sukuna scoffs. “If you are trying to make me feel guilty about that, I do not. Not the slightest.”

“But I am not,” you say. “I have no intention in making you feel guilt, Sukuna. I simply miss Yuuji’s warm and loving presence. If you think it that way, then I suppose you feel deep down that you are guilty.”

With that, he shuts his mouth.

Later that evening, Sukuna watches you fall asleep under the moonlight before he decides to step closer. The grass withers underneath him as he gets closer to your sleeping form yet he paid it no mind since he’s attention is focused on you and you alone. The devil crouches down to take better glimpse on your peaceful sleeping face. He gently run his fingers across your soft cheeks, which made you squirm a bit. Sukuna immediately stops but when he sees you relax your body again, he gently place his fingers again, his thumb caressing your cheeks as he draws circles along your soft skin.

The devil could feel his heart beat so fast that it frustrated him enough to grip his chest in hopes of stopping his annoying heart from racing in a rapid pace. He had not felt such a thing happen to his body before and he had no explanation whatsoever about what is happening to his immortal being. The only possibility he could think of is whenever he looks at you; whenever you smile, laugh, sleep; whenever you tend to your plants with a soft smile on your lips. When Sukuna sees you with a smile on your face, he couldn’t help but feel… regret and guilt yet at the same time, he wanted for this to happen.

Sukuna’s main objective was to devour your soul once you had been corrupted, once you finally let your sins consume you. The reason why he associated himself with you in the first place is to take your soul with him in Hell. However, there was something in his mind instead. That is, to make you his queen in Hell. The mere thought of it made Sukuna chuckle, a bitter one.

Did he really think of making an angel, a child of God, be his queen?

How foolish.

THE MOMENT you wake up in the middle of the night, the first thing that you saw (and felt) was a flower around your hand. Its stem and petals are all withered and decayed. There’s only one person who touches a flower will wither like this, and that person isn’t present at the moment.

You gently touch its petals, bringing the flower back to life. Hyacinth, a bulbous herb with narrow strap-shaped leaves at the base and fragrant spring blooms rising on an upright stalk. A soft smile creeps up your face when you realizes what it means.

You stand up from the ground and clean yourself at the lake nearby. You take off every piece of clothing clinging on your body and let the warm water of the lake clean you up. Your wings that are slowly turning black are now soaked with water behind your back. In all honesty, you wanted your wings to be gone off your back because of how annoying it is.

“How disrespectful can you be?” a demonic voice mutters behind you, which made you look behind your shoulder, seeing Sukuna with a pissed off face. “You didn’t even bother inviting me?”

“I remember someone saying about the water being so dirty,” you chuckle. “Join me then,” you say and turn your back against him, dripping your body in the water until it reaches your collarbone.

Sukuna chuckles to himself before removing clothing yet his gaze does not turn away from you.

His eyes and attention are exploring every part of your body as if he's studying every beauty in you. He stares as if you are a statue of a goddess displayed as a masterpiece for everyone to see, yet he’s the only one who’s staring. The mere thought of others staring at your figure is something that darkens Sukuna’s mood. Anyone who dares to turn their gaze on you will have their eyes removed.

Your back is turned against the devil as he walks along the water towards you. The soft sounds of that the moving waters are creating fills the deafening silence between the both of you. The moonlight basking the two of you from above was Sukuna’s source of light to capture every ethereal image of your body. Your beauty that he sees right in front of his very eyes makes him want to accept the thought of God making you so perfect.

You are a goddess, a deity that the devil himself wants to worship.

The humorous thing about this—Sukuna thinks—is the fact that he has not felt like this for anyone for centuries. Who would’ve guessed that the first time he was truly bewitched by someone was an angel? Perhaps the reason why he wanted you to fall is so he can finally be with you? Perhaps the reason why Sukuna loathe you is because he cannot accept the fact that he’s… in love with you after all this time? It’s nonsense. If he wanted you after all this time, even in the Heavens, then he couldn’t have turned into someone so devilish. He could’ve been with you when the both of you were still children of God, and yet here you are, being slowly corrupted by the devil who was once a pure and holy being.

If only he wasn’t too foolish and a coward to admit his love for you back then.

Sukuna’s fingertips caress your back, making you let out a sigh of relaxation as his fingers slowly and gently glide through your soft skin. Sukuna’s warmth has made your breath quiver and the entirety of your body to feel hot and warm. You turn yourself in front of him, showing your bare chest that made him hitch his breath, thinking of how ethereal you look in your full glory.

Sukuna continues to caress your shoulder with his fingertips. You close your eyes, feeling his warmth course through your body that sent shivers down your spine. Sukuna’s body has made you feel small against him and you are tempted to glide your hands along his chest, his body looks as if it’s carved by the finest artists and sculptors in history.

Suddenly, you feel Sukuna’s soft lips along your shoulders, kissing every bit of your skin as if he’s worshipping your body. You tremble between his kisses, making you release a soft moan that Sukuna almost feel like as if he’s hearing the songs sung by the harmonious voices of the angels from Heaven.

Your hands are so tempted to touch him, to caress his skin so gently, like how you touch the petals of the finest and most delicate flower you’ve ever laid your hand on. Sukuna notices your hands hesitating to touch him so he cups the back of your hand and guides you to touch his chest heaving up and down to catch his heavy breaths.

He wants to do more; he wants to kiss you in a hungry, passionate way and caress every part of your body; he wants to worship your entire immortal being from head to toe. There’s no denying it anymore for the devil. He has fallen in love with an angel and not even God can stop him from loving you.

“Sukuna,” you whisper. “Why are you so kind and gentle to me all of the sudden? Have you no memory of who you are?”

“I have,” he says, his face still buried on the crook of your neck. “I am the devil and I know that a devil from Hell is not supposed to be kind, and I am not. You make me feel such overwhelming emotions that I want to rip my heart out from my chest—you make it so difficult for me to think; you make everything difficult for me… and yet I can’t devour your soul. I cannot make myself drive you away from me. You make me insane and yet I still have the desire to be by your side.”

“You were no longer sane before all this, Sukuna,” you whisper.

“Then perhaps I had the desire to be by your side even before.”

You let out a heavy sigh.

You wanted to cry. You wanted to cry so bad yet you don’t want Sukuna to see you so vulnerable. All you know is that he could be acting as Itadori Yuuji so he could break you again. Ryōmen Sukuna, the devil, would say no such things. He will think of this as nothing but absurdity and once he had you even tighter in his grasp again, he would surely destroy you until he drags you down to depravity.

“Stop it,” you quiver as you try to stop your tears from falling yet they slowly cascade down your cheeks. “Stop saying such things, Sukuna. Is this not enough for you? You have me already. Why must you pretend like you care about me? Why must you pretend like the man I used to love before? The devil would feel and say no such things.”

“Then I guess I don’t want to be the devil anymore if one could say no such things,” he mumbles and pulls away from the crook of your neck, only to see your teary eyes that shatters his heart into pieces. “Do you know why I gave that withered hyacinth to you?”

You didn’t answer.

“Because even if I am the devil who disguised himself as a good man, I was listening to every ramble that you had to say,” he whispers. “You once told me that hyacinths mean asking for forgiveness. I know that what I did to you is unforgivable and inhumane yet I don’t know how to show you how sorry I am. All I could do is to protect you from something that I once caused.”

“You were listening to me? All this time?” you ask.

“I always do,” he says. “Both Itadori Yuuji and Ryōmen Sukuna does.”

You chuckle.

“I forgive you, Sukuna,” you smile at him that made you look like as if you’re a goddess that is gleaming under the moonlight from above. “You are not so bad after all, devil. Itadori Yuuji, Ryōmen Sukuna, a mix of both, I came to like every bit of you.”

Sukuna smiles.

“You make it so difficult for me to hate you,” he whispers.

“Then do not hate me,” you say as you stare into his eyes. “Will you kiss my eyes, Sukuna?”

Slowly, you close your eyes, waiting for him to do something. Sukuna doesn’t hesitate to lean down and kiss one of your closed eyes in a gentle manner as if his fingertips are touching a delicate flower. After giving you a soft kiss on your closed eye, Sukuna rests his forehead on yours.

“For you, my love,” he whispers, “I am willing to repent.”

You smile at his words.

“You are too late, Sukuna,” you say. “You cannot repent. I can only sin.”

With that, Sukuna crashes his lips onto yours, kissing you so deep that your hands wrap itself around his neck as his travel along your body. Sukuna’s soaking fingertips caresses your back, your arms, and squeezing your ass in the palm of his hands. What sent shivers down your spine is when he glides his fingers along your back.

Your hands caress Sukuna’s hair, tangling the strands in between your fingers as he deepens the kiss even more that made you moan in his lips. You release a whimper when Sukuna suddenly bites your lower lip, allowing him to easily insert is tongue inside your mouth and let him writhe and swirl against yours.

The feeling of Sukuna’s lips so deep in yours and his hands caressing every inch of your body has sent you into Cloud Nine that you could almost describe as Heaven. His kisses made you feel tingly below, the same feeling that you felt when you watched him that night. Your body feels so… odd yet in a good way. The last time you felt this, you were trying to stop the tingly sensation that courses through your crotch as well as the arousal that consumes your entire body. However, now that you are feeling it again, you were craving for more.

When you pull away, the both of you are breathing heavily and staring into each other’s half-lidded eyes, and a visible string of saliva connecting your tongue with Sukuna’s. You are both panting so heavily, trying to catch your breath after kissing each other so passionately and hungrily.

“Sukuna…” you pant. “Please, please… Will you give me more? I want to feel every inch of you.”

“If you really want it, then you must fall from grace for me.”

taglist ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ @cl-0-vr

#jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #sukuna smut #sukuna #sukuna ryomen smut #ryomen x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #jjk fluff #sukuna fluff #jujutsu itadori #jujutsu kaisen #jjk imagines #jjk sukuna

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fahbee · 9 months

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Theory: Why did Aziraphale agree to the Arrangement?

There's two moments in Aziraphale's and Crowley's history together that we haven't seen yet, that I think have the potential to change the way we see them and their relationship to each other.

They are: The Fall and the Arrangement.

This post is about the latter.

[Slightly edited because I completely forgot the Good Omens book states that the Arrangement began "somewhere around 1020".]

Here's what we know about the Arrangement:

It started around 1020.

By the time of 1601 it had been in place long enough for them to have used it "dozens of times". I take this to mean at least 30 times, but probably closer to at least 50 times. I assume that the upper limit is likely under 200, else I would have expected Crowley to say "hundreds of times" rather than dozens.

The parameters of the Arrangement are that they "stay out of each other's way" and "lend a hand, when needed." It involves both of them performing blessings and temptings.

Crowley proposed the Arrangement under the justification of convenience. No sense for both of them to be uncomfortable in damp places only to cancel each other out, etc.

Aziraphale rejected the Arrangement because he didn't want to lie to Heaven. This was centuries after Aziraphale already lied to Heaven in order to save Job's children, so we know the problem isn't with the act of lying itself.

From this, we can deduce that Aziraphale is willing to lie to Heaven/other angels when he considers the matter important and/or righteous enough, and that sparing himself inconvenient travel and accommodation, etc does not rise to that standard.

By 1601, we know that Aziraphale no longer worries about lying to Heaven ("dozens of times now") but that Aziraphale does worry about the risk to Crowley if Hell were to find out what they're doing. "They would destroy you." Yet this protest seems more like a routine warning than a truly serious objection, and Crowley rolls over it easily. "Nobody ever has to know."

While it's possible that Aziraphale could have changed his mind about the Arrangement solely due to decades (centuries?) of Crowley asking him to reconsider every time they encountered each other while on the job, that would be a boring waste of an opportunity for character and relationship growth. IOW, I don't see Neil choosing to write that Aziraphale finally decided to go along with the Arrangement just because he got tired of Crowley asking.

No, the better, far more satisfying choice is for something to have happened that changed Aziraphale's mind. And it couldn't have been something to do with the actual work of the blessing and tempting. In 1601, the job involves a few minor blessings and tempting a clan leader to steal some livestock - nothing at all like the life-and-death, killing-children-to-win-a-bet circumstances which led Aziraphale to lie to Heaven for the first time.

There has to be some other reason then for why Aziraphale grows comfortable enough with lying to Heaven that it doesn't even warrant a mention as a token protest in 1601. But what does merit a mention? "If Hell finds out... they'll destroy you." Crowley's safety.

So what could possibly be so important, so righteous, as to justify not only lying to Heaven on the regular, but also risking Crowley's very existence? What could have possibly happened to make the Arrangement, with all its attendant deceit, risk, and danger, something that Aziraphale willingly participates in, over and over and over again, for centuries?

My theory? He does it for Crowley's happiness.

We know that as far back as 3000 BC at the flood/Noah's ark, Crowley had no stomach for the death of children. 500 years later he defines himself as a demon who goes along with Hell as far as he can and killing Job's kids (both human and goat lol) is going too far. He not only refuses to kill them, he performs miracles to save them and return them safely to their parents. And before Aziraphale figured out the trick with the goats, Crowley was clearly determined to keep his actions secret from both Heaven and Hell.

I think Aziraphale finally agreed to the Arrangement in order to give Crowley an excuse to do good. I think something happened in 1020 to make Aziraphale realize that Crowley sometimes needed to do good, but couldn't allow himself to do good unless he had an excuse for it.

The Arrangement is just another dance between them, another ritual they perform for seemingly plausible reasons but which actually has a much deeper meaning behind it. On the surface, the Arrangement allows them to cut down on redundant and/or unpleasant tasks. It's true purpose though, in my opinion, is to give Crowley the excuse he needs - even if it's just to himself - to balance out his demonic work with good deeds. Either Aziraphale does his tempting for him and he's spared from having to do evil deeds at all, or he does his own tempting but gets to cancel it out by doing blessings on Aziraphale's behalf.

Does Crowley realize it, though? I don't know. Prior to s2 I would have said of course he does. But we know now that Crowley has a huge blind spot when it comes to Aziraphale. He didn't even realize how clearly, obviously in love with Aziraphale he was until Nina bashed him over the head with it. Aziraphale's motivations and feelings, especially as regards Crowley himself, seem to be a complete mystery to Crowley. It would not surprise me to learn that Aziraphale made up some flimsy excuse for why he changed his mind about the Arrangement, and Crowley simply accepted it and never questioned it further.

In conclusion, I think Aziraphale entered into the Arrangement for Crowley's benefit whether Crowley realizes it or not.

#Good Omens #good omens meta #about 'the arrangement'#crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #aziracrow

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veras1ne · 11 months

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“My Angel”

Summary ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Senator-Jedi gatherings weren’t your idea of a night out and an opportunity to let go, but being accompanied by your Jedi knight was one you simply couldn’t say no to.

🫧Pairing ☆‧₊˚ Anakin Skywalker/Reader ˗ˏˋGender Neutral! As always 🫶🏻 ´ˎ˗

🦢WARNINGS || THIS IS AN 18+ FIC. You have been warned for the following: Explicit Smut, Degradation, slight Dumbification, Objectification, Spoken Consent, Fingering, Aftercare, Spit As Lube; NO piv! Testing the waters with writing smut!

Thank you my stars for the absolute love you guys have been giving me on my most recent posts I’m so thankful for all the notes, comments and reblogs!! 🫶🏻 if you like this post you may like my others and you can find them here on my masterlist. Kisses to all 🫶🏻

This’ll make sense later in the fic but a side note/translation here, Ma Schutta can be translated to “My Slut” LMAO you’ll know it when you see it❤️

Gatherings amongst the Senate were a common occurrence; however, for you to attend them, it was not.

Due to your duties as both a member of the Senate and a mentor for the Legislative Youth Program, it was safe to say your hands were overflowing with tasks to be completed, and while some might have called your schedule hectic, your responsibilities didn’t stop you from doing your job perfectly well, as much as anyone else in their right mind would. You could be sitting on your bed, reading some of the essays that had been left at your office, or practicing your speech for the next vote. But you weren’t complaining because your work had presented you with many new opportunities within your life and career, including meeting General Anakin Skywalker, yet even your work, newly combined with his, meant you practically only saw him on special occasions, leading to stolen kisses and rushed goodbyes.

Despire all, the senator gatherings, closely watched by the Jedi council and many other Jedi who were not on missions or just needed a night out, were close to heaven, where many both politicians and Jedi were attempting to get intoxicated to forget their problems and duties with a night of boring conversations and dancing in the gathering hall. On one of these nights, you found yourself converging with many new faces, welcoming Jedi and newly appointed politicians who had quickly gotten caught up in the overstimulatingly new environment and fast-paced politics. While getting lost in conversation and comforting smiles, you failed to acknowledge the wandering eyes and lustful glances from your partner himself. Fortunately for you, neither of you could stay away from each other for long, and you knew he simply couldn't contain his desire for you for much longer.

Truthfully, you couldn't wait to chat with your lover in a scene deemed both convenient and, above all, inconspicuous, but every once in a while, a loving game of cat and mouse was just what both of you needed.

Senator Alavar was a common face, dressed in a dark blue gown and vibrant makeup. It was undeniable that her demeanor was confident and demanding, and yet your simple conversations had not lacked either of those things. Even her poise in the way she gallantly trudged and made her way through the crowd to greet you had not presented itself in anything other than prestige. "Ah! Senator, how lovely it is to see your face! It's absolutely wonderful to know those younglings in the Legislative Program haven't worn you down yet!" She playfully poked you, nudging you with her shoulder. Although you would love to spend a night away from your duties, you're swiftly brought back to reality as her chuckles filled her ears, laughing at her own joke. "Oh, Alavar," You sighed, smiling, and said, "I could never get sick of them. After all, they're the ones to fill our shoes." You joked, alerting her that her efforts to make you laugh had not fallen on deaf ears. Her guard being let down after you joined in conversation, Oh, of course. Some of these younglings have some rather large clown shoes to fill as well.” She took a moment to smile and let out a small sigh. "But enough chit-chat, yes? I don't mean to step over any boundaries, but if I didn't know any better, I would think that General Skywalker had eyes for you." She smirked playfully, teasing You spared her a smile, shaking your head and saying, Oh, hardly senator! Everyone knows Jedi are forbidden to form attatchments; besides, what Jedi Skywalker chooses as his personal affairs doesn't quite retain me." Your eyes shifted around discreetly, as if trying to confirm if someone had heard your words.

She smiled at you, nodding to your words: "Well, my apologies, you just can never be too curious, yes?" She raised the glass she held in her left hand as a toast to her own words. "Absolutely, but just remember that curiosity killed the cat." You beamed at her, swirling circles around your own forgotten glass, before she began to speak once again: "It has been a lovely night chatting with you, Senator, but I must go. I do hope to see you soon." Her dress flowed, guided by the movements of her gracious bow.

As you made your way through the crowd, you felt your cheeks warm up slightly, as if you had picked up a choco-droid. "So, Senator Alavar, huh?" Anakin snuck from behind you, the familiar bass of his voice taking you by surprise. "Just chit-chat. She had asked about you, though." His deep laughter rang through your ears. "I'm truly not surprised. She's always been one for gossip. Besides, it's charming to watch you try to look good in front of your little politician friends," He whispered in your ear, his warm breath fanning against your colder body before he once again continued,

"If only they knew what a slut you were behind closed doors."

His body was now pressed tightly against your back, his large arms not-so-discreetly wrapping themselves around your waist. You groaned as he chuckled, "I could show them how much of a slut you can really be. His tongue ran along the shell of your ear, causing you to squirm. Your body shivered as your breathing quickened, but you still forced yourself to remain composed and calm as you said, "Anakin, we're in a public area." He paused, moving slowly from your side and looking at you curiously. "And it looks like the only thing that's stopping us is you." You took his hands off of your waist, pushing him away as his flirting became dangerously more intimate. "Come on, Let me show you how much fun we can have, angel." His open hand took yours, guiding you up a flight of stairs and quickly entering the first empty room. Your lips were swiftly captured by Anakin's, his hands resting lightly at the sides of your neck. His mouth trailed kisses from your mouth down to your jawline.

One of his hands trailed down your back, cupping your ass, before he slid his fingers between the thin material and your skin, feeling your flesh and heat underneath. You moaned into the night as he spoke harshly, "Stars, do you understand how hard it was for me to stand and watch you all night? I wanted to take you right there in front of all your little friends and let them know that you're mine." His thumb softly rubbed against your hip bone.

Your hips buckled forward, and a gasp left your lips. "Please Ani-" "Patience, angel. We don't need to rush, not tonight." His voice sounded hoarse and raspy. You looked up, searching his eyes, wishing this night wouldn't ever end and remembering that everything would have to go back to normal after you left the hall. His eyes, once filled with lust, were turned to caution. "Are you sure this is what you want, baby?" You nodded slowly, biting your lip, wanting nothing more than for this to continue. "I need my whore to speak. Nothing but a cheap, pathetic whore for me to use; I can't even get the right words out." His words spit venom, yet you wanted nothing more than for him to take what belonged to him. You were now growing restless as he fiddled with the formal wear you had donned in preparation for that night. "Please use me, Ani; I'm yours. All I want is you." You begged. He groaned at your pleas, making short work of your clothes as he grabbed at your hips, dipping a hand in between your thighs. His face was visible under the moonlight that dimly lit up the room. You looked up at him with tears threatening to fall as you writhed underneath his large hands that had held your now naked body down. "You look so pathetic when you cry, but maybe we can put this little whore to use. Spit," He commanded, and as inelegantly as possible, you complied, leaving a string of hot spit between your mouth and his fingers. "Such a pretty bitch, you know that? So loyal, doing anything that I ask of you." His fingers prodded at your tight hole, which was slowly being worked open by his thick extremities.

You gasped at the sensation spreading across your whole torso until you were shaking, tears forming in your eyes. The sounds escaping your lips were arguably sickly, as strings of praise and degradation mixed together left his mouth accompanied by Huttese insults. "Maker, every time I fuck you, you just fall apart. Fucked out and whining, just like the disgusting slut you are. Ma Schutta." You could barely breathe as he pumped into you, taking in your nipple with his free hand, the cool metal pinching at your nerves. Your whole body felt as if it were being taken apart and reassembled in front of his watchful eyes, as if you were some sick toy for him to play with whenever he pleased, and yet you wouldn't have it any other way. You loved him, and he loved you in a way that nobody else would understand—in a way that you didn't even understand. The knot in your lower stomach began to tighten, your stretched hole twitching and begging for release. "Let go, baby; I know my bitch wants to cum." You squirmed as you bit harshly on his shoulder, muffling your nauseating moans, your body beginning to twitch. "I love you, Ani." You panted, pulling at his hair roughly and pulling yourself closer to the edge of sanity as his touch grew more rough, forcing the last of your energy to slip past your swollen lips as you came. As your back collapsed onto the bed, he removed his hands from your body with an awful squelch. "Such a good whore for me." His voice had an undeniable sneer, reminding you that you belong to him and he belongs to you. "Thank you, Ani." you breathed out, your voice weak and tired. Your appreciation fell on deaf ears as Anakin walked towards the bathroom, fetching a cool towel to wipe the sweat and fluids from your body. "No matter where we are or what we do, I'll never get over how beautiful you look." A blush coated your cheeks, instantly forgetting the vulnerable position you were just in. Cupping his face, the eye contact you had made was not lustful or filled with desire, but love and passion. "I love you so much, Anakin Skywalker," you whispered to him as if you were the only people in the world and time had stopped for the two of you.

"I love you too, my angel."

#star wars #star wars x reader #veras1ne #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker #anakin smut #anakin fluff

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bloodynereid · 7 months

Text

Paws of Darkness

pairings: jordan li x marie moreau, sam riordan x emma meyer, cate dunlap x andre anderson

tw: mentions of spells, swearing, drug use, kissing, some violence against animals (sort of - this one is kind of blurry)

description: the group of friends were on their way to a halloween party when they get side-tracked by a rather furry problem.

a/n: part 2 of my halloween double feature! this sort of doesn't make sense in some parts lol cause i whipped this one up pretty quickly with little to no plan so apologies. hope you enjoy and lmk ur thoughts <3

Wind thrashed against the supe-proof windows as Marie put the finishing touches on her costume. A vampire. It was all a bit on the nose for her taste but that didn’t really repel her from the idea. She never did get to celebrate Halloween during her stay at Red River and her family had always gone all out, so it was a nice way to connect with a powers-free childhood.

The warm smell of pumpkin spice and chocolate permeated Cate’s dorm as she straddled Andre and gave him a soft peck before swiftly jumping up and applying the last bit of her costume, the lipstick.

“Oh come on, don’t be a tease.”

“Hmm well stop distracting me then.” Cate taunted as she flicked her hair back and stepped back from the mirror to inspect her costume. The bright orange tracksuit contrasted with the red of the fake blood.

“So… what do you think?” Cate asked as she spun around in a circle to show Andre her costume. Andre sat up and pretended to inspect her form in a serious fashion but she wasn’t fooled, he was definitely trying too hard to contain that smile.

“You look fucking incredible. Now we both look as fucking hot as always.”

“Mostly because of my work obviously.” Andre threw his head back and laughed before he adjusted the straps of his black wings tinged with gold. He had decided to go as a fallen angel and had even agreed to let Cate paint parts of his body gold. Somehow he was able to pull it off.

Emma was currently walking through the aisles of the nearest Spirit Halloween trying to find Sam a last minute costume. Ever since the whole Woods scandal, stuff had started to get back to normal. So since Sam hadn’t celebrated Halloween ever since he was a really little kid, Emma was determined to make it his best Halloween yet.

“Okay, how about this one?” Sam asked as he picked up a Ghostface costume. “Then we can kind of go in a couple’s costume.”

“Oh my God, why didn’t I think of that? Yes, absolutely. Come on, we’re going to be late for the party.”

Sam only laughed as the couple started to spring through the array of Halloween costumes and decorations. Emma was decked out in her costume already, one of her absolute favorite characters from Scream - Tatum Riley, who she always thought died wayyyy too early.

Jordan kept checking their phone as he hugged the cold armor closer to their body and felt the urge to cringe at the chainmail hanging around his face. Going as a knight was a much better idea in theory than in practice, but at least they looked hot as fuck.

Finally he heard footsteps coming closer to the meeting point that the group had decided on. After everything they all sort of trauma bonded and now it was as if they were stuck for life. Twisting around with a loud metallic tinkling Jordan’s mouth dropped as Marie appeared, looking as sinful as hell itself but also as beautiful as one of heaven’s angels.

“Hi love, you look fucking incredible.” Jordan said as he kissed Marie gently, feeling a slight bite at their lower lips from Marie’s fangs.

“Oh god stop it with the PDA.” The couple jumped apart as Emma appeared with Sam, at least who they thought was Sam, in tow.

“Hey guys.” Sam’s voice echoed through the Ghostface mask, solving that mystery.

“Why do you both look so fucking hot? This is unfair.” Emma said with a sarcastic huff making a laugh come out of Jordan before they spotted Cate and Andre walking up to them.

“Fucking hell, Andre. You actually clean up well.” Jordan said with a teasing lilt making the entire group burst out laughing.

“Oh fuck you.” Andre said with a smile on his face before he playfully punched Jordan through on the cracks in the armor.

“Ok so what are the plans for tonight?” Marie ventured out as the chaos started to ebb down.

“No idea, thought we should get high and fuck around until we find a party.” Andre answered in his usual laid back tone.

“Sounds good to me.” Emma said with a shrug and the rest of the group muttered noises of assent as Andre pulled out a little bag of one of his many substances he kept around him.

“Molly?”

“Yes please.” Jordan said as they shifted and grabbed the bag, dipping her fingers in and maintaining eye contact with Marie as they licked the molly off of their fingers. “Remember when we first did this?”

“Oh I remember.” Marie said in a gradious tone as she winked in Jordan’s direction before stealing the bag from her fingers.

Only after the bag was passed around and the molly was starting to kick in did the group venture out from their little meeting place. Sam had his arm thrown around Emma’s shoulders, a motion that the rest of the couples mirrored - snuggling into their person’s warmth since it was a particularly cold night.

All of a sudden a loud yowl was heard from one of the school’s buildings and a ball of fur sailed past Jordan’s face making them let out an uncharacteristic squeal as the thing fell onto the soft grass with a thud.

“Oh shit.”

“Is it dead?”

“Shut up Andre.” Muttered the group in synch as Marie crouched down next to the little animal, careful not to get her costume wet from that afternoon’s rain.

“Oh my God, he’s still alive!” Marie exclaimed as she picked up the all-black furry thing and cradled it in her arms.

“Woah, that thing could have rabies. Shouldn’t you be more careful?” Emma exclaimed as the group all craned their heads to look at the little animal.

“No, Emma. He has a collar look! Uh his name is… Salem.”

“Aww hi little Salem.” Jordan said in a much higher tone of voice as they lifted a hand to gently stroke the cat’s fur. The action caused the cat’s eyes to flutter open only for another yowl to come out of his throat when he realized he was in a stranger’s arms. Jumping off, the black cat fled into the dark night leaving the group confused.

“Huh, I guess the cat was okay then.”

Except the cat wasn’t actually okay. He had unfortunately been turned into this damn thing because one of his friends (ex-friend) now dared him to do it. For whatever reason he was still stuck in this damn furry little body. That was when the cat stopped short. He hadn’t realized who those people were until that moment. They were the supes who exposed The Woods. Holy shit, he realized that he might have just inadvertently given up the only way he could be rescued.

In his hurry the cat hadn’t realized a large car was coming right down the street the second he started trotting back over it. With a harsh bang and a flash of pain in his rib cage, the cat tried to let out a scream as he sailed a few yards… only to land right in front of Jordan Li again.

The cat felt himself fade once again. Now he only had 5 lives now… his “friends” had taken away the first two and now by being stupid he had just lost the other two. Being a cat was hard, okay?

The second time that the same black cat landed in front of them Jordan stood quiet, not a single peep was heard of them. Instead her jaw was dropped and they were in so much shock that Marie had to shake her multiple times to get them out of it.

“Jordan! Jordan! Jordan!” Marie’s voice got louder and louder until Jordan blinked up at her in recognition before returning their gaze back to the cat.

“Uh, is that the same cat?” Cate asked as she waved her gloved hands in the direction of Salem, who started stretching and turned almost too human eyes to stare at the group. The cat meowed at Cate and almost seemed to shake his head.

“Okay everyone saw that right? I’m not that high am I?” Emma said with a slightly panicked tone that was very much emanating throughout the whole group.

“The cat fucking nodded!” Jordan exclaimed, the cat then let out a very human huff and lifted a paw almost like he was saying ‘duh’.

“Fuck we are in a supe school aren’t we?” Marie reasoned as she tilted her head down at the cat.

“God you’re right, you, my love, are a wonder.” Jordan said as they started attacking Marie’s face with a bunch of kisses as she tried to swat her off.

“Oh my God stop, you’re high.” Marie said as she laughed.

“Ok while those two continue doing that, what exactly do you want us to do with you?” Sam asked as he crouched down closer to the cat, only for the cat to almost try and smile at him. It was sort of creepy actually.

Ok so maybe the cat hadn’t exactly thought this out that far, but to be fair he had just died like 4 times. In an attempt to shrug, the cat fell forward and smacked its snout onto the cold grass, making him sneeze.

“Awww.” A blissed out Cate muttered as she knelt down and stroked the cat’s head, only for him to start purring. However the sound stopped the same moment that a bunch of loud male voices started to echo around the corner. They were screaming a name loudly and drunkenly as obnoxious laughs left their mouths.

The cat felt something akin to complete and utter terror seize his body. It seemed like an someone’s fight or flight response was much more amplified as an animal because the instant those voices got closer the black cat bolted the hell out of there.

Only to run up a tree… which caused the entire group of very loopy supes to stand there in confusion as they watched the black cat circle deftly through the branches.

Once the cat felt like he was safe enough cocooned by the branches was when the very much human, or well supe side of him realized he was in a tree. High up. In a tree. For someone with a really bad fear of heights this was very bad.

The group of supes stood at the foot of the tree utterly confounded about how the hell they were going to get the supe/cat out of the tree. Maybe they should call the fire department. However, they didn’t have to stand there long because after a few seconds the cat sort of went berserk and suddenly there was another loud thump and the cat lay twitching on the cold grass… again.

Four lives left now, how bad can you be at being a cat to go through lives that quickly? The cat let out a very human groan this time, making not only itself jump but also the onlookers. Everyone had a puzzled look on their face.

“So uh Salem? May I call you Salem?” Marie asked, trying to be as polite as possible as the cat shook itself off and looked up to stare at her before nodding.

“Do you have any idea how this happened to you?” With that the cat nodded one final time before trotting forward, not even looking back to see if the supes were following him or not. The little group looked rather strange following a cat around as they weaved through hallways and dorm rooms until they finally reached an odd looking door.

“Since when has this been here?” Sam asked as he traced the sigils embedded on the random supply closet door.

“I’ve literally never been down here.” Cate said before a strange huff was heard as the cat started scraping at the door, Marie nodded and grabbed the handle and pushed it open only to be assaulted by the strong smell of cinnamon.

“Whoa where the fuck are we?” The cat meowed in response before he pranced over to one of the shelves and started to pull at one of the books, this time it was Emma who grabbed the heavy book and let it thud against the dusty wooden table. The cat got on its hind paws and started to try and flick through the pages.

‘This better fucking work’ was all that the cat was thinking. The book belonged to the very friend who had turned him into this ball of fur using his annoyingly specific animal transformation power. The book was actually a journal, where he knew that his friend kept detailed instructions on how to turn back - without the help of his powers.

When the cat finally stopped flipping the pages and meowed triumphantly, the group all peered over the page. Only to find a weird little Latin incantation and list of a few ingredients: cinnamon, ram’s milk and honey. All which were in containers along the shelves.

Emma and Marie got right to work as Cate scooped the cat up in her arms and settled into one of the dusty arm chairs. This whole situation was getting weirder by the second. By the time the mixture was ready the cat had started to doze off in Cate’s arms as Jordan and Andre discussed random assignments they had due soon. However the strong smell of the liquid got the cat to raise its sleepy head and quickly started licking up the mixture.

The incantation was really all for show, Henry liked to think he was some kind of fancy sorcerer when this was like basic chemistry to get his powers to reverse - each animal had a different recipe corresponding to them.

The cat started to feel more human by the time that the mixture was finished being lapped up and it only took a few moments to take effect before a black haired guy stood up from his place on the floor - covered head to toe in flowing black robes.

“So… thanks I guess.” He uttered when he realized that everyone in the room was looking at him with wide eyes.

“Wait so this was all real?”

“I’m afraid so. I am Salem by the way - my parents are hippies so I got a weird name.” Salem said with an awkward chuckle.

“Huh.” Jordan uttered as they threw an arm around Marie’s shoulder and looked at the teenager.

“So how did this all happen?”

“My friend’s are fucking assholes.” Salem said as he swept a hand through his hair, God he had missed being human. The group nodded before they bid him a few awkward goodbyes.

“Weirdest fucking night.” Andre uttered as the group started to file out of the door. It was only Cate that looked back into the strange little room - only to find it completely empty. There were no books and the smell of cinnamon had completely disappeared. All that was left was a paw print in the middle of the dust.

#gen v #limoreau #limoreau fanfic #jordan li #marie moreau #sam riordan #emma meyer #cate dunlap #andre anderson #cate dunlap fanfic #gen v fanfic #gen v fanfics #halloween #sam x emma #andre x cate #maria's random stuff

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prettyboypistol · 7 months

Text

Idle Conversations || Good Omens Ineffable Husbands

[Pre-Canon/Ambiguous in Timeline] [Angst] [Hurt No Comfort] [EXTREME Misunderstandings] [i'm so sorry]

In the little bookshop nestled on the corner two supernatural beings usually congregated. Fora various reasons- ranging from “how do I stop heaven from finding out I tempted that priest for you” to “I made a wonderful pound cake and insist you try it!”

Tonight however, was a strange third option. Tonight, an angel and a demon were lucidly drunk in the back room, speaking about any and everything that escaped their lips. Now Crowley, the dark man who adapted to any environment he needed to, playfully argued to Aziraphale, the cozy little angel that likes things to be rather comfortable. It infuriated Crowley to no end that Aziraphale was simply satisfied with a comfortable silence, while Crowley felt a vehement need for intake and indulgence. And to think that the discussion started over a movie that Aziraphale found interesting while Crowley found it pompous.

“Really, it’s not a problem with pretentious movies- if the guy behind its got a good record of making good high art movies, it’s the people I can’t stand who say they understand abstract art when the abstract is the art!” Crowley explained emphatically as he lazily took another sip of wine. Aziraphale nodded, his brow curled in minute frustration at how Crowly spectacularly missed his point completely.

“Well, not focusing on the audience, the movie is a wonderful example of artistic nihilism and a meaningful existentialism in a sense- now I know that’s rather oxymoronic to say, but I feel that the art of the so-called nonsensical is the sense of it all. After all, the meaning of the phrase “You can’t wake up if you don’t fall asleep.” is paradoxically beautiful and abstractly striking in a more than can be put into words.” Aziraphale rambled on, but Crowley had put a finger up to silence him as he opened his mouth to speak.

“Well, that’s why I decided I can’t watch movies that you’ve already seen with you anymore.” He nodded, finally speaking. Aziraphale had long taken the alcohol out of his body to better explain his love for the film, but the way Crowlay had said that struck the angel in a way he did not perhaps like. “It’s like I’m watching your reaction and attachments you’ve already formed to the characters and the movie rather than the movie itself- kinda ruins the whole “new” experience. Like with Pride n’ Prejudice. I listened to you waffle on about how much you loved Darcy’s character more than I watched the film!”

Now, surely Crowley had not meant it to come off so harsh sounding, and Aziraphale knew that intrinsically. Whenever Crowley had said something upsetting, it was usually out of ignorance rather than actual malice. This however, stung like nothing else before had.

“I show you the films I like to let you see..” Aziraphale had trailed off, his voice shutting quietly against his will. “I show you the films I like and the books I like to let you peek into what made me the angel I am today. It’s nice to have a comfortable monotony once in a while.”

Crowley shrugged. “That makes sense and all, but angel, where’s the excitement for the new? The reaching out for a never before felt experience? If you’re always stuck in the comfortable- what if something passes you by?” That was a rather silly question, Aziraphale thought. He had never let an opportunity pass simply because he was comfortable.

“It’s a sense of stability, for me personally.” Aziraphale retorted kindly. The ever so tightly lipped smile across his face hid back all the questions that raced in his mind. Was he really that boring to Crowley? Had he not cared for all the times Aziraphale had tried to open up to him through his beloved literary artworks? He had thought Crowley liked sitting with him and indulging in stories that were near and dear to him. “Heaven is very hectic, despite what it looks like.”

“Quite the opposite for us, really.” Crowley muttered disdainfully. “Every day down there is the same old same old.”

“Perhaps that’s why you prefer a faster paced lifestyle. It fulfills a different need for you, just as the comfortable stagnation fulfills a need for my life.”

“Yeah, but what’s the point of it all? The world’s still going to spin if you’re sitting in ye olde bookshop that never changes.” Crowley asked genuinely, another bottle empty and set by the chair. “I couldn’t manage myself if I just stuck to the same thing for centuries.”

“I suppose that’s the point, really. I like staying still and admiring the complex beauties of select things, while you are far better suited to a short-form consuming style of appreciation.”

Crowley made a noise of agreement. He had always liked to look up with the times. Humans always were so fast paced, after all. It’d be a shame to blink and miss something clever they did. That was something Crowley could never really understand about Aziraphale- why did he find it so fascinating to just sit idly by and perfect the tiny details of everything? As much as Crowley(to everyone else who saw him and Aziraphale together) was so brazenly smitten, his curiosity about Aziraphale’s tendencies always kept him around, even if it was just lingering for a few moments in-between thrills of adventure.

A tightness in Aziraphale’s chest and a puzzled furrow to his brow clued Crowley that something was up.

“Well, as much as I would love to continue this conversation, I really think we should be off. I have a new shipment of books I need to unpack. I was going to get to them before you had dropped by.”

Now Crowley knew something was definitely up. He did not want to press the angel about it in the state he was in currently, so a quick sobering up brought him to realize that something in the conversation had went grievously wrong. It was best not to try his luck in these types of situations he had learnt. With a quick goodbye and a lingering stare that perhaps looked a second too long, Crowley had excused himself back to his apartment. There Aziraphale sat, Crowley’s words echoing in his mind.

Was he boring to Crowley? Was he dull and long winded? Well, compared to Crowley, Aziraphale was certainly more hesitant to change. His life had always been far too hectic, what was wrong with wanting a little stability?

Aziraphale hesitated as he reached for a book.

Was he really limiting his horizons by staying stagnant?

Aziraphale’s hands placed themselves gently on his lap as he let out a long yet soft sigh. Should he bake? No, that was one of his many limited hobbies. He did not want to go out and try new things simply because Crowley implied that his palette was lacking. He would not succumb to a demon’s taunt- no matter how accidental it was.

But that was the worst part though, wasn’t it? That it had been so casually said. As if it was a common fact about Aziraphale that he liked to stop and observe a world that still spun despite him. “You go too fast for me, Crowley.”

#fanfiction #good omens #aziraphale x crowley #aziracrow #aziraphale #crowley #crowley x arizaphale #ao3 #azicrow #anthony j crowley #good omens 2 #ineffable divorce #ineffable husbands #ineffable idiots #im so sorry but also lmao get fucked

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visorforavisor · 10 months

Text

warning: Good Omens series / season 2 spoilers

you have been warned

final warning okay thank you

(also Pride and Prejudice spoilers I guess if anyone still cares about that 210 years on)

·—·

they’re Pride and Prejudice, people! I’m telling you!

Aziraphale still holds onto his anti-Hell, pro-Heaven, anti-demon, pro-angel bias, his prejudice telling him that there is no “institutional problem”, that Crowley fell because he asked questions rather than because Heaven didn’t want questions asked.

Crowley refuses to let go of his pride in his identity (whether that be as one of the fallen, or as part of a side that is neither Heaven nor Hell), and go back to the Heaven that betrayed him, which he doesn’t trust not to ruin everything.

Aziraphale is Lizzy, Crowley is Darcy.

and, come on, we all know what happens in Chapter 34.

Darcy proposes to her. he talks about having tried to pretend the love is not real (“in vain I have struggled”), and asks Lizzy to marry him despite the fact that they come from two different factions who traditionally wouldn’t marry, and despite the fact that he knows she does not possess the same identity he is proud of in himself.

and Lizzy turns him down, because she’s prejudiced against Darcy’s type and this has influenced how and what she thinks about him specifically.

Darcy leaves this proposal feeling hurt, betrayed, and upset, while Lizzy is too confident that she is right in the core beliefs that influenced her decision. and they go away needing to work on themselves.

(is all of this sounding familiar?)

and then they meet again and fall in love and there’s a successful proposal etc etc.

Crowley’s pride in what he is won’t let him take Aziraphale at half quality, still part of Heaven; Aziraphale must be so exceptional as to transcend that restrictive category. an angel who would buy into that nonsense is not what Crowley stands for. he cares about people in his own, very small category: their side, which he thought included Aziraphale. those outside Crowley’s side are not to be ruining Crowley’s “precious, peaceful, fragile existence”.

meanwhile, Aziraphale’s prejudice presents him two options. either Crowley remains a demon which means he is bad, or Crowley becomes an angel again, which means he can be properly good. in the second case, Aziraphale can have him. Aziraphale can’t have Crowley if he’s bad, which he must be if he’s a demon.

there’s a subtle difference between the two.

Crowley’s tactic is more about self-preservation for his group (which would have included Aziraphale if Aziraphale’d agreed to dump Heaven for their side, just as Darcy’s remaining pride extends to protecting Lizzy when they are married (“Darcy could never receive him [Wickham] at Pemberley”)).

Aziraphale is being self-righteous for the good in the world (which he would have done for Crowley too if Crowley’d agreed to be an angel, just as Lizzy loses her shit at Darcy for not helping Wickham and all of his myriad other moral failings and then turns around and defends him once she’s convinced he’s good (“that [her dislike of him] is all to be forgot”)).

of course, this all might be an accident on the part of the writers, but then again….

Crowley and Aziraphale’s ideas to get Nina and Maggie together were sheltering from the rain, one fabulous kiss, and Pride and Prejudice.

Crowley and Aziraphale have already had their sheltering from the rain — twice, actually (at the end of the creation scene, and the end of the Eden scene). they have also had their kiss — no explanation needed.

this is their Pride and Prejudice, right down to Crowley (Darcy) protesting when a dance with Aziraphale (Lizzy) is suggested.

I could go into how Pride and Prejudice is in and of itself a Much Ado About Nothing retelling, but honestly that’s not particularly relevant, just cool. (do watch the David Tennant and Catherine Tate Much Ado, though.)

so, my hypothesis for the conclusion of a potential series 3 is as follows.

it will involve Crowley’s equivalent of “one word from you will silence me forever”: Aziraphale’s last chance to answer in the affirmative and be with him. Aziraphale will learn that Crowley is not bad simply for being a demon (I hope), and Crowley will realise Aziraphale should be let into his heart even if he wasn’t always on Crowley’s side (I hope).

Darcy / Crowley stops refusing to interact positively with anybody not in the little clique, and Lizzy / Aziraphale stops believing an entire group to be awful.

I don’t know if I have anything else coherent to say on this. something about how they have to accept the things they cannot change about the other and change the things the other cannot accept about them?

(also Gabriel could arguably be Wickham, given that Crowley tries to convince Aziraphale that Gabriel did a nasty thing and should be kept away from those he wants to keep safe but Aziraphale won’t believe Gabriel is a bad person because Gabriel isn’t one of the group he considers to be bad… I mean, it’s just their pride and their prejudice again isn’t it. whether we’re talking about Darcy, Lizzy, and Wickham, or Crowley, Aziraphale, and Gabriel.

I’m not going to follow that extension of the comparison too far, though, because I don’t think I can reasonably claim that Beelzebub is Lydia.)

concluision: I don’t care whether it’s Benedick and Beatrice, or Darcy and Lizzy, or Crowley and Aziraphale. I love all of their dynamics.

and we have amazing things to look forward to if we can convince the company to make series 3.

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deathfavor · 16 days

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I've discussed Lucifer and his differences compared to all the other angels, archangels included, before over the years - especially in regards to power. For example, his LACK of need of prayers, which is talked in depth here. All angels have a baseline power, and prayers make them stronger. Lucifer is an exception to this because, even if he had never fallen, he would never have been one humans called upon regardless. He was God's right hand and was rarely out of the throne room because of that. BUT I want to talk about a few different consequences and aspects of his differences that this creates.

SLEEP

I have talked about this before too, (here) but I want to go more into the WHY. Sleep is a necessary regulatory process for Lucifer, much more than for other angels. Lucifer has a near overwhelming amount of power as is to be expected of God's right hand, compounded with the fact he serves as one of the Horseman (albeit this factor is known to VERY few). But UNLIKE God, Lucifer has a dedicated corporeal form rather than just an existing conscious per se. ( Technically he has a few considering his true form and then that which he takes when visiting other planets like Earth, Jotunheim, etc.) Which means the excessive power needs a way to regulate itself. For him, it's mainly through different sleep cycles that allow the power to settle and stabilize.

Using large amounts of his power would ALSO be a way Lucifer could regulate his power and remain active and awake for longer periods of time. While he still would occasionally slumber as all do, it would not be nearly as long as it is for him. But the problem is that Lucifer VERY RARELY is able to use up enough power for this to be effective. Clashes with Michael are a good way for him to be able to burn enough to keep going, or any massive conflict with Heaven and Hell's forces on a large scale. While Lucifer does let most of Hell deal with their own conflicts, he has on occasion stepped in to forcefully end a conflict and that can help ( Not because it's hard on him, it isn't, but it lets him use his powers to greater lengths than he regularly does. ) The dances and celebrations held in Hell on occasion also can be an excuse to burn some excess power. There are WAYS he can and does use other means to regulate his power - it's just that there are rarely enough events to balance out his need to also sleep. ( His work as the Horseman can too, but he's loathed to acknowledge it. )

In his sleeping state, he can be forcefully woken up by certain events even without interference. Huge shifts of power within Heaven or Hell will rouse him because he can FEEL the change in dynamic of power. Something like a large scale confrontation, or another powerful soul awakening such as Solomon's soul reawakening. An angel falling will often awaken him if he's in a shallow sleep too, though it would have to be a strong angel if he is in a deep/long sleep. Should a high ranking angel fall or approach Hell in a hostile manner, it will awaken him. And, of course, should he be called upon as a Horseman, it will break his sleep for a few years.

PACTS

Lucifer VERY RARELY accepts and makes a pact with anyone to allow them into his circle. It's a very prized title to be held and comes with a vast amount of benefits such as raising their rank in Hell and their influence with other demons. ( It does NOT, however, immediately set them into a position of power in terms of territory - that they need to gain themselves. ) Lucifer will also be more willing to lend them his power and strength, and it intensifies the connection between Lucifer and the pact-holder. They will be able to sense each other even through vast differences, and call to the other so to speak. If he's in a sleep, Lucifer can and will awaken if a pact-holder calls on him in need. Lucifer can also draw their power away if needed for some reason, though such a scenario would have to be extreme for him to do so given his own power.

It's nearly unheard of for Lucifer to offer a pact with anyone. He's also the only one with the power to forcibly break a pact other than through death. He's never done so yet because he is very careful with those he would ever make such an offer to. Deals and pacts are different. Deals are small and limited to one transaction and, unless it was with someone of equal or near equal power, Lucifer could break it. Pacts are an eternal connection and are both high energy to make or break. This is saying I want you to stay as part of my life, a part of me.

PRAYERS

So do prayers to Lucifer work at all? No. He has no interest in the way humans push the blame of their actions onto his name, or the absurd and appalling requests made. He also has no interest in serving or helping humans ; he was opposed to that from the very beginning. He doesn't hear them and he never wishes to. The ONLY, only exception is if one captures his interest - like King Solomon, whose loneliness in is soul echoed Lucifer's own. Or the occasional good bond he may form with one here or there from some instance. Should they, for whatever reason, call upon him, he would likely respond. But it does not give him strength the way it does for other angels as previously mentioned. He was never made to hold a place in human's eyes because he was to be God's right hand.

MISC.

A random but topic-related mention on power. Of course I mean Lucifer's strength in the typical ways we think of power; strength, magical capabilities, etc. etc. BUT there is another form of power. And that is in his knowledge. Lucifer possesses pieces of knowledge that ONLY God himself understands - and to which God never entrusted another after Lucifer's fall. Lucifer understands universes and creations in ways others may not or may to only a certain extent. FREE-WILL he gained on his own and led to his fall, a product and effect of Lucifer being exposed and created with the intention of possessing such secrets. Despite his fall however, Lucifer is not inclined to reveal or share these secrets. ( Mainly because people cannot fathom what to ask and most have forgotten his status as God's right hand in the face of being the emperor of Hell. ) His power comes in the fact he understand aspects beyond others too.

#punts this onto the dash #i just think this is an interesting topic #if there's questions i am happy to answer #but mm yeah i thought i would expand upon some of this more #᛭ — [HEADCANON] fate carved by unshaking hands [LUCIFER]

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sandraharissa · 10 months

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Ok but here's the thing, Aziraphale's kinda right about wanting to 'fix Crowley'. Let me explain.

In S1 Crowley's clearly lost and confused, there's his relationship with his plants and the prayer scene. I thought this conflict might have been considered put to bed but in his very first scene this season Crowley complains, similarly to S1, 'what's the point of all this?'. He's clearly troubled and damaged by his fall, that 'he only ever asked questions' (he clearly craves to understand why he fell), that the plan is ineffable and who knows why things are happening and what'll happen next, that he stands to lose his creations/what he loves just bcos, and predictably averting the apocalypse in itself didn't solve any of these.

This season he talks about not wanting to disturb the fragile peaceful existence they carved out for themselves, and in contrary to heavenly manipulations, hell likely just straight up tortured him in the past like when he gets sucked into hell this season for doing a good thing, AND he has a more rounded understanding of the situation, having had experience with both heaven and hell, so Crowley is acutely aware how dangerous the world is and how much he can lose, including that even just wanting to save what you love gets you in trouble with both sides. Let's not forget him thinking for a hot second in S1 that Aziraphale got destroyed with hellfire and then experiencing Aziraphale's execution for him. Crowley's clearly very troubled and if Aziraphale sees this, then he's not wrong.

I think what's happening here is that this early on a fix is presented that's not the true solution and so it's rejected. Aziraphale tries to fix his trauma by essentially just going back in time and acting like it never happened. It's easy, aligns with Aziraphale's other beliefs (like that it's good to be on the side of heaven) and on the surface level reversing/undoing the traumatic event that's the source of everything should fix everything, right?

Well obvs that's a false belief, it's trying to erase the problem rather than solve it, there is no going back but I think this also points out that there's no staying in one place either. That's the way in which Aziraphale's right. "Nothing lasts forever". Crowley's a character who carved out this fragile peaceful existence for himself and he's gonna do everything to not change anything about it out of fear of losing it, that's part of why I think he seems ok with just pining for eternity as long as they get to keep what they already have. So that's a character who's very averse to change/progress in his relationship and character arc.

His attachment to Aziraphale is smth he wants and it's very valid, good for him, but obvs a romantic relationship isn't gonna make his existential crisis disappear, which is the other big thing about his character apart from his relationship with Aziraphale. So there's something else that he needs first, and idk what it is but it's definitely got something to do with moving forward and it's definitely not going back to being an angel again.

#ineffable husbands #ineffable husbands meta #good omens #crowley #crowley meta #my:good omens

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lucere-aeresta · 10 months

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Headcanon: the angel who became Crowley.

Crowley, this guy is kind of...well, VERY important. Like, he had a hand in the creation of the world, which is supposed to be God's own feat, and when he became a demon he tempted Eve as a serpent, which is mostly attributed to Satan himself.

What a guy.

I know, a show needs to be dramatic about the characters, but Azi didn't get all the glorious deeds. Crowley did.

It was widely believed that Crowley used to be Raphael, but Neil Gaiman made it clear that was not true in an FAQ. Also, Raphael never fell from heaven. Doesn't make sense he becomes a demon. I know GO is creative about what the characters do or who/what they are, but at least until now, it sticks tightly with the real-world canon (whatever that is) about who is an angel and who is a demon. I personally think either archangel Raphael will show up later in S3, or simply because Azi's name is derived from this one so they avoided it.

Another theory is that he is Gadreel, who, as described in The Book of Enoch, "led Eve astray". Considering Gadreel is also one of the five satans or five lesser satans (satan being a title rather than a specific entity), it sounds promising. The only problem I have with this theory is that he is not that important as an angel. Like, he was not mentioned being an archangel but merely one of the Watchers, and the reason he fell was having sex with human women, which, of course, can be ignored for the purpose of creativity; but still, not a very famous angel.

Essentially, nobody has heard of him. From the perspective of a scriptwriter: if the identity of Angel Crowly is to be revealed, it's better to give him a name more known to the audience than just make him a random dude buried in the mountain of apocalyptic literature.

(If you want to be all nerdy about it, the "led Eve astray" doesn't even make sense, since it was sandwiched between all the other things Gadreel did: teaching humans "all the blows of death" and showing humans all kinds of weapons and war stuff, etc. By its contextual logic, if "led Eve astray" shows up as the first deed/crime of his, then it is likely to refer to the temptation in Eden; but in its current context, it sounds to me like he taught Eve something about killing or death or something to that nature.)

Anyway, I don't think Gadreel is the answer. Of course, I am not against this interpretation--I'm not against any headcanon and/or ideas about his identity; I just personally don't find it satisfying.

For me, the question is as simple as "Who has appeared in various texts and lore as both an archangel and has fallen to become an archdemon?" (Other than Lucifer/Satan himself.)

The first one that came to my mind? Samael.

And yes, in some lore he assumed the form of the snake and tempted Adam and Even--it was also he planted the Tree of Knowledge before his fall, which sounds close enough to say he participated in the creation of the world itself.

Sometimes Samael is identified as Satan, or at least largely functions as Satan, the accuser, the adversary. He leads the fallen angels, goes about to attempt humans, and creates demon children with Lilith.

On the other hand, in a lot of ancient literature, he is depicted as an archangel who rules over a significant portion of God's realms, sometimes even one of the Seven Archangels of God. Even nowadays you can still find Archangel Samiel (a variation of his name) shown in a few churches.

The significant role Samael plays as both a demon and an angel, as well as his duality presented in various traditions and literature, convinces me that he could be a good candidate for Crowley's hidden identity. Of course, Samael's fame as the "angel of death" doesn't fit Crowley, but, well, it's GO we are talking about. Gotta take some liberty.

I wish there was a fallen angel with a proper angel name--all the fallen angels have names that appear to be against God, indicating that their names might have been changed after the fall. It's really hard to find one. But I think Samael can pass this one: his name means "venom of God", kind of indicating he is not really a bad guy but just serving God in his own way, which is believed true in some traditions. (And, in the book of Job, Satan is not an enemy but the accuser who got God's permission. In GO it was Crowley who messed with Job--he is essentially doing all the Satan things.) Also, since even the churches are alright with archangel Samiel, I don't have anything to complain.

Btw, Gadreel passes this one too. His name means "wall of God", even better.

I also like the idea to use some characters like Raphael, an archangel who's never fallen, to emphasize his glorious past and to avoid a hidden demon identity (which is tricky but can be explained as he got beef with Hell and didn't want to be seen as the prominent demon anymore so he just uses an alias). I just have a hard time finding a fitting character like that and somehow Raphael doesn't feel right (also rejected by Gaiman himself, but that's only secondary).

Samael is the closest I can get. I am curious to see his angelic identity revealed in S3, if it's ever going to be.

PS: I was wondering why they didn't give Azi a typical angel name, something ends with "el", meaning God. I thought it was indicating that he is not within the high-rank angels or he is going to fall or something in S3, but in the FAQ it seems...that's just a random decision? Well, I know I'm always looking into these things too seriously lol

#good omens #crowley #headcanon #who is crowley before the fall #my post #gos2 spoilers

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cuddlytogas · 10 months

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GOOD OMENS 2 SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT!! spewed out right after binging last night and then added to today. I'm mostly gonna ramble about structure rather than content, but the last few bits get quite spoilery

before that, though, one other thought: I DO hope the power of fandom now will mean that we'll get an influx of people listening to Cabin Pressure and JFSP and Double Acts and all that good stuff!!! John Finnemore is such an incredible writer and comedian, and I know the "following fandom brain into a rabbithole of someone's previous work" is a lot more common for actors than writers, but. one can dream!!!!!!! knowing Finnemore was a co-writer was what reassured me that the new season wasn't going to be an unnecessary sequel, he's so fucking good, and in conclusion ---

okay onto the s2 thoughts

obviously I'm, like. insane now. like I'm gonna shatter into a million pieces and also be sick. I have LOST my MIND. and it WAS good!!!

but also

I thought the pacing wasn't nearly as good as s1? obvs s1 had the ticking clock element, which is hard to recreate without just having another ticking clock, but especially some of the flashbacks tended to linger a smidge too long, and you could tell some of them were written by other writers - the "minisodes" thing I think didn't HELP. obviously I don't think this was a MAJOR problem, and I'll want a rewatch when i feel less Fully Insane to judge properly, but even ending aside, I feel like it didn't have quite the same structural/pacing qualities that made s1 so watchable

I thought the extension of the preexisting 1941 flashback felt... a bit hack-y? (it also went on too long tbh.) the reason those worked so well in s1 was because they were these little snippets, extending it (again, especially to the length that they did) was a little... hm. not, like, a cardinal sin, and it might just be a taste thing, but. again, the "minisodes written by other writers" thing didn't help.

and I'm REALLY sad it was released all at once!! with all the mystery elements, I would've loved a week to week format - even two episodes a week - to really digest all the clues, to sit and speculate and process each reveal/development! I just read that Neil Gaiman wanted that too, so it's extra hurtful. it would've been such a satisfying way to consume the show, but alas, Binge Culture must prevail, I guess :\

finally... I might be genuinely disappointed by the ending? I mean, the religious trauma is Strong With This One, and it'll depend on what they do with s3 (I'm not even going to humour the idea of no s3), but just... okay, real spoilers from here

it felt like Aziraphale really backslided?? like, wasn't the whole point of s1 the learning of "heaven and hell are both a bit shit and we're on our own side"? I understand why the final choice was compelling, both to him and the audience, but even across the season - and especially taking both seasons' flashbacks into account - he really sort of pinged back and forth between learning the lesson and going right back into denial about it, in a way that started to feel less like a character flaw and more like a cheat to keep the drama going. obvs his final choice was DEVASTATING, but also I couldn't stop thinking that Aziraphale... knows better??? not just "he should know better, how heartbreaking", but haven't we SEEN that he KNOWS BETTER?? it felt... inconsistent? again, as a writing choice rather than a character thing

like, I've slept on this thought now and calmed down a little about it, obviously I'm a bit biased by how also extremely painful that whole last scene was to watch, but - thing it, it's not even the decision itself that sits so formally wrong with me! the "I could fix things if I were in power" self-delusion is a very believable and narratively compelling (READ: HEARTBREAKING) move, as is him believing "if Crowley were an angel and I fixed everything then we could be safe and together and everything would be fine"!

but specifically the "but heaven are the good guys" - that gets me! like, after everything?? you really still believe that?? I thought it was obvious you learnt your lesson?? something something, "how can someone so smart be SO stupid?" - except we already did that bit in s1!! ahhh I dunno, it just rings a bit too much of the kind of undoing character development and recycling drama that I reeaaaally don't like :\

like, just. the pure disbelief in crowley's face - "tell me you said no" - like, yeah. and not just in a character sympathy way, but - come on, Aziraphale!! we've been through this so many times now!!!

again, this will also all rest on how it's handled in s3. and I have some faith! s2 actually bringing up crowley's "I was there when you tried to destroy Aziraphale, I saw your face when you told him to shut up and die" was revelatory, I loved that they actually made reference to it. and the writers are good! this isn't going to be a wwdits situation, I think we're safe in that. but s2 definitely had a few more plotty/pacing flaws, and that's just SUCH a huge betrayal - that whole ending was so massive - I have a lot of gay fear about how it'll all be resolved.

or, I dunno. maybe I'm just still too sad to think straight.

#Good Omens #Good Omens season 2 spoilers #spoilers #Good Omens spoilers #GoodOmenss2spoilers #GO2 #GO2 spoilers #pointless post is pointless #okay i think i'm done #just needed to throw some thoughts into the void

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rayne-storm · 9 months

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Dies Irae, Dies Angeli

AUgust 14. Angels and Demons

Fandom: Phantom of the Opera

Summary: Erik, the Opera Ghost, died a long, long time ago. His body did, at least. But there's obviously something haunting the Opera House. A demon has come back to play.

A/N: this is just a snippety bit that I've had on my mind for a while that I might do more with later!

****

The misshapen incubus glared from his seat atop the chandelier as the little people ran about with their manufactured emergencies. Always such haste for inconsequential problems. A wig not powdery enough, a music stand with a squeak, a shoelace too short, problems problems problems. It was all so tedious to observe, but was a necessary evil for his true love: music. Opera, musical theater, concerts, concertos… all were soothing to his fiery soul. It was all he needed to be happy.

Until he saw her.

"Miss Daee, is it? Like the Swedish violinist? Descended from the musicians and craftsmen?"

Christine nodded politely, hands clasped in front of her. "Yes. Gustave was my father, may his soul be at peace," she added, taking in their reactions. Glib sadness, the kind when one knows of the deceased but never met them. Good. They'd not pry into her past beyond the niceties, see nothing more than the stars.

"And why have you chosen the Paris Opera House for your first performance?"

"It holds a dear place in my heart. My parents always spoke fondly of it, the way the sound carries and the building seems to have a beautiful life all its own. It really is second to none…" she leaned in conspiratorially, "despite what Sydney may want the world to think."

The delighted, rather pompous agreement signaled she had succeeded in acquiring a short residence.

The managers spoke of rehearsal schedules, practice spaces, all things well and good, and of course she could stay within the building, yes it was fine to walk around for inspiration occasionally, perfectly safe, etcetera, etcetera.

She tuned out the blathering, polite smile never wavering, as she took in the building. Old, beautiful, full of character and dignity. She loved these places, not just for the architecture or history, but for the spirits they carried. Usually wholesome, delightful things, spectres of musicians or actors, the lingering memories of cherished performances, the emotional highs and lows imprinting the space with beautiful light.

Unfortunately, it was a spirit of an entirely nature that brought her. She felt the markings in her skin tingle slightly as she felt the air shift. Something was here. Something decidedly out of place with the musical crowd. With luck, she could remove it peacefully. If not, she'd drag it back where it belonged.

Christine Daee was, after all, the most gifted exorcist this side of Rome. When she wasn't busy maintaining her solo career, she was ridding the world of evil. It seemed a little cliche, maybe a little anime, opera singer by day, demon hunter by night, but it was her life and she loved it.

Her favorite part, however, was never the expulsion. It was when she could save someone or something from the darkness. She hoped she could do so here.

***

He watched the beautiful woman as she was escorted through his opera house, heart pounding as she effuses over the building and its charm. It seemed she would be performing, when rehearsals for the current project were through, and had chosen this place specifically for her grand season debut.

Erik hadn't felt stirrings like this in ages, but he knew well how vipers hid behind pretty faces. He tried to control the runaway feelings he had for this newcomer, at least until he could find out more. She could be terrible, after all.

But then they insisted she test out the stage. She stepped out, seeming sheepish and uncomfortable, but when she opened her mouth, it was like the host of heaven itself was singing through her. Her voice was divine, beautiful, otherworldly. Erik knew that she had to become his. His own Angel of Music.

#my writing #rayne writes #fanfiction #august 2023 #phantom of the opera #phan fic #erik the phantom #christine daae

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retvenkos · 3 years

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newfound love | t.l.

Little Women - Laurie Laurence x Reader, slight angst, fluff

tw: mentions of a dead mother

word count: 1.9k

A/N: i’m apparently incapable of writing fluff without first mentioning crushing loss, so that’s fun.

prompt: we’re going out in the cold for a walk, and I know you don’t want to get wet, but I’m trying to convince you to make a snow angel with me

The first thing (Y/n) knew was the cold. From the moment they had been born, they knew the icy touch of frigid air and the bite of snow. Winter babies were often babies who didn’t survive, but it had been their mother that didn’t last the night. Their family had mourning during the most dangerous of seasons, snow falling on their cheeks and melting at their hot tears.

Ever since, (Y/n) knew that winters often brought more problems than they were worth - from the cold, to the lack food, to the bouts of sickness that always seemed to follow, and the tight grasp of melancholy that held their heart hostage. Times were hard enough without the troubles of a changing season, and to have winter come early was simply cruel.

Already the winds had changed, and sometimes, when (Y/n) looked around at the people who surrounded them, they thought they could tell who was already blown away.

Laurie had always been rather good at convincing them that it was just worry, but the feeling never left, just gnawed a little less.

Now, with the war being what it was, there was more at risk, and more that ate at (Y/n), devouring the very root of their being. It hadn’t taken long for Laurie to notice the strength of (Y/n)’s grief, that year, and he had grown intent on trying to show (Y/n) the beauty of winter, even with it’s hardship and death.

“You can’t just have one,” he had said, sounding much older than he usually did. “Everything is good and bad.”

“Are we?”

And Laurie had laughed unabashedly, as though the thought had never crossed his mind. (Y/n) hadn’t admitted it, then, but they resolved that if naivete was the worst of Laurie’s offenses, they could fall in love with all of him - the good and bad.

In his attempts to demonstrate the enchantment of winter (because Laurie was a true romantic, and he did insist winter was enchanting), he had exhausted every effort he could think of.

He had taken (Y/n) out to ice skate, had taken them to a winter dance, and had even stolen some of his grandfather’s seasonal wines for them to share. Although that last one was largely a success, before they were caught, (Y/n) still couldn’t shake the idea that winters brought nothing but misery. It was an instinct set deep in the fibre of their soul; something created the moment they were born, when the ice and cold had stolen them from the warmth of a mother.

It seemed, even with Laurie’s efforts, that there was one inescapable truth about (Y/n)’s experiences:

Winters were bleak and their frosts were long, lingering well after the snow had melted and the sun dared to peek out once more.

When it neared the end of winter, (Y/n) had assumed that Laurie had let his little project go. It had been a while since he asked them about their opinion of the winter months, and while (Y/n) still caught him staring every once in a while, he made no effort to speak of what he was thinking.

On a day when the cold seemed to be letting up, (Y/n) and Laurie made plans to meet the next day. He had some books he wanted them to see, and (Y/n) was in the throes of a crisis - finding themself unable to oppose Laurie’s good, if often too forward, nature.

When (Y/n) woke to find that it had snowed sometime between night and early morning, they had sighed, but steeled themself to the reality of it. The day prior they had promised Laurie they would go over, and when Laurie had smiled, they had even promised to be in a better mood. Laurie had said that they needn’t hide their feeling for his sake, but (Y/n) put their hands over his and told them they wanted to.

“It won’t be winter for much longer.”

It wouldn’t have been the first time (Y/n) managed to speak too soon.

Bundled in their warmest clothes, (Y/n) had set out in the cold, intent to walk to Laurie’s house, no matter the weather. The snow crunched beneath their boots, and the rising sun made a blinding glare against the white expanse, but they journeyed forth.

Laurie didn’t live too far away from (Y/n). In the summer months, walking to his house was a welcome distraction and the view of the world in full bloom never ceased to amaze them. (Y/n) looked around at the snow covered world around them and tried to appraise it in Laurie’s eyes - what enchanting beauty could be found, when everything was frozen in time?

Perhaps there was something beautiful in the vastness of it - when covered in snow, the world didn’t seem to end at definite horizon. The clouded sky met the snowy land in a sort of haze - one color mixing with the other and never quite distinguishing itself. And the icicles hanging from trees seemed to shine like diamonds when the sunlight hit them, just right. The ice was sharp and deadly, yes, but it was also delicate and easily broken.

(Y/n) stopped beneath a tree and when they looked back at the way they came, there was almost something poetic in the way their steps had made a trail - like their existence in the world left a mark, no matter how small.

(Y/n) looked down at their shoes, shaking their head at their own thoughts. If only Laurie saw them now - he might think all of this was his doing.

Perhaps it was.

(Y/n) scuffed the fresh layer of snow with the tip of their shoe, revealing some of the grass beneath - a dark green that reminded (Y/n) of the decorations Laurie had insisted on putting up, claiming that the atmosphere alone would be enough to convince them of the beauty of winter.

(Y/n) was careful to admit it, but all of Laurie’s antic - from the most simple to the elaborate - had made them feel better. Most of the time. Laurie’s presence alone was enough to coax happiness out of them, pushing down that melancholy that stubbornly clung to their being.

“(Y/n)!” A voice brought them out of their thoughts, and it took a moment for (Y/n) to realize they had been smiling.

Laurie, wrapped in a thick coat, was running over to them, his expression a blur and hair flying wild. The sun was rising with him and made it hard to focus on his nearing figure for long, but when he was close enough, Laurie blocked the glare with an amusement that seemed to shine brighter than his heavenly competitor.

“I didn’t think you’d come out for a walk.”

(Y/n) brought a hand up to tame his hair. “Well, I did promise you, didn’t I?”

Laurie nodded his head, dark hair flying once more. “I just thought that with the snow, you might have changed your mind.”

“If it was anyone else, I would have.”

“Do I really mean that much to you?”

(Y/n) felt their cheeks get hot and burrowed their face deeper into their scarf. Laurie hummed in acknowledgement, neither triumphantly nor disappointedly, just markedly.

“You wouldn’t be admiring the weather, would you? I was trying to compose a poem on my way here - something that would capture the essence of a final snow.” (Y/n) scoffed and Laurie’s teasing eyes caught their gaze. “Perhaps you have a line or two to add?”

“Maybe,” (Y/n) conceded, “but only if I can write it somewhere warm - preferably in front of a fireplace, with those books you mentioned.”

The two set off in the way Laurie had come, (Y/n) making it a point to step in his footprints from earlier so that they might avoid getting wet anymore than they already were. Despite having consented to the idea that the winter might be slightly beautiful, in its own, haunting sort of way, (Y/n) was still averse to the cold, and there was nothing worse than the kind of cold that stuck to your skin after getting your clothes wet.

It was when Laurie’s house was in sight, and closer to them than the distant horizon, that snow started to fall from the heavens, sprinkling through Laurie’s dark hair and settling on his scarf. A snowflake fell on (Y/n)’s eyelashes, and they took in a breath, preparing to sigh, but stopped themself short. Laurie looked at them from the corner of his eye, just barely managing to suppress a smile from creeping onto his lips; there was affection in his eyes, though, sweet and pure.

“(Y/n),” Laurie grabbed their hands and the party in question turned to them, snow collecting on their head like the soft down of a duckling. “Do something for me?”

“What?”

Laurie fell back into the snow, letting go of (Y/n)’s hands as he dropped so that he wouldn’t pull them with him. He fell back with an “oof” that seemed to knock the wind out of him, but he quickly recovered started moving his arms and legs, fanning outwards to create a snow angel.

(Y/n) scoffed and shook their head. “Laurie, you’re going to get all wet.”

“And so will you, when you join me.” Laurie’s smile was convincing, making up for his lack of persuasion skills. (Y/n) was able to resist, if only barely.

They opened their mouth to refuse, but no sound came. Laurie seemed to notice the falter in their resolve because he held out a hand, sitting up carefully as to not ruin his angel.

“The house is right there. We’ll be inside before the cold seeps through the layers of your clothes.”

“Is this another attempt of yours to get me to fall in love with winter?”

Laurie smiled devilishly, despite what he had created just moments before. “You’ve already fallen in love. My schemes are over.”

Laurie was right - (Y/n) had fallen in love - but whether it was with winter or the boy who pointed out it’s beauty, was hard to tell. Maybe a snow angel would help them decide...

“Fine, for you.”

A moment after the words left their lips, Laurie reached for their hand and tugged them downward, pulling (Y/n) with such a force that they stumbled in their fall and landed half on top of him. (Y/n) shrieked and screwed their eyes tight.

They were awfully close, when dared to peek. Lauries cheeks were flushed scarlet, although whether it was from the cold or their position was hard to determine. (Y/n) shuffled away and lay down in the snow, hesitating before putting their hands out. Laurie lay back down, a little breathless, and the two stared at each other for a moment before laughing, not minding the wet snow beneath them.

(Y/n) eventually pushed their arms out and made their frozen angel, their fingers grazing Laurie’s arm.

When the two stood up, they both looked at their creations with a critical eye.

“We ruined those pretty well, don’t you think?”

“You were the one who pulled me down!”

“You didn’t give yourself enough space to make wings.”

(Y/n) and Laurie looked at the other challengingly before breaking out in chuckles.

“Let’s get inside. I wouldn’t want your newfound love of winter spoiled by catching a cold.”

(Y/n) nodded, but it wasn’t until they were sitting in front of a fire, books between them and blankets draped over their shoulders, that (Y/n) told Laurie, in just above a whisper, that it wasn’t winter they had discovered their affections for.

#little women #laurie laurence #theodore laurie laurence #laurie x reader #laurie laurence x reader #theodore laurence x reader #reader insert #laurie imagine #laurie laurence imagine #theodore laurence imagine #fluff #slight angst #tw mentions of death #holiday prompts #imagine #one shot #fic #fanfiction #fanfic

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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

Text

World Revelations

@etherealsxnder

Warnings; spoilers for season 13, mentions of death, angst, lack of hope, some Alex Calvert x reader, and tiny bit of jack x reader, swearing, brief illusions to sex, angry brothers, mentions of a sex scene, insecurities, online hate, protective winchester brothers, apocalypse world, major character death, lucifer

(Y/A/N) – Your Acting Name.

A/N; it’s a little bit different from the request, so sorry about that, but I hope that any one that reads this enjoys. Also sorry about the wait, I had bad writers block, but when I started writing this it sorta figured itself out and I may have got carried away. Feel free to tell me what you think ☺️

“Look, I am not going to some other world to help stop Michael. But I can help you in another way, one where none of us get harmed.” Gabriel shrugged, reducing Sam’s expression to confusion. The archangel had felt like their last hope at retrieving their mother, into delving into the apocalypse world, and here he was, turning him down.

He had tried his very best to make the celestial being better, and here he was, talking again, able to use his grace rather than have it removed and syringed into a demon’s veins. However, he still refused, and the hunter had no other plan in forcing Gabriel into helping. This was the last shot, and it had been blown.

But however could he still help? This was the primary problem that had to be solved, there was no other route they could take to bring their family back together. And that was all that mattered in this life, saving people, remaining together.

“What are you talking ab-“ Before Sam could complete his question, Gabriel set him with a poised glare, and snapped his magical fingers, a spark of electric blue grace sparking from the action. That was all Sam saw before he felt himself transported, and once he opened his eyes, he remained in the bunker, however there were cameras around him, and an entire filming crew.

Gabriel had sent him to the other life, another world in which he presumed that he was called Jared. “What the hell Sammy?” Dean barked from beside him, twisting and turning his sights around, upon realising that although this looked like their home, it was an alternate version of it. A set, made of fake walls and truthless literature that was not at all necessary in this peaceful, monster-less realm. “Son of a bitch!”

“Cut!” One of the cameramen called out, shaking his head exasperatedly at the line said wrong. Jensen had been doing so well, and Jensen seemed to have slipped far too into character, to the point where he had forgotten his lines. “Do you need to see the script again, or would you rather take a short break?”

“I’ll go for the break.” Dean confirmed, grabbing Sam’s forearm and hastily dragging him from the onlookers, and towards which he assumed was his, well, Jensen’s trailer. It looked pretty much the same as last time. “Gabriel?” He asked, rightly assuming that the blame of this mishap ordeal was down to the glowing figure.

“He refused to help us open a rift.” Sam licked his lips, his eyes jutting around the luxurious space. “And then he snapped his fingers, and we were here.” Here, another earth. However this was not their home, it was a disfigured writing of it, if anything, it was worse than the books Chuck wrote. There were more fans, and more complications that came along with being here in place of the actors.

“We don’t have time for his tricks.” Sighed Dean, raking his hair with his rough hand. “Parading around as a painted whore is not on my agenda, all I care about is getting mum back, we have to get home quick.”

“Dean, I don’t think that this is a trick…” Sam spoke to his elder brother, in thought of Gabriel’s words. “He said he could help us in another way. I don’t think he meant taking us away from the problem, there must be something else.” No matter how much he rolled the idea around his head, he could come to no conclusion.

“What?” There was already plenty on the man’s mind, he didn’t need another incident coming their way. Dean was to begin speaking again, until a knock rapped against the door to his double’s trailer, intruding his mindset. Him and Sam shared a glance and frown until Dean called whomever was on the other side in, and to their dismay, he looked exactly like Castiel.

Misha Collins. Last time they had visited this place, he had died, but the return of the real selves must have somewhat fixed the timeline, he looked well, even if he still was dressed as their angelic friend. “Hey, I was seeing if you are ready for the scene tomorrow.”

“Scene? Which scene?” ‘Jared’ asked the colleague of his false identity, unaware of the context in which Misha spoke in. Dean only huffed and rolled his eyes, until Misha spoke, and he froze, both the brothers understanding Gabriel’s meaning for sending them to this world.

“(Y/N)’s death scene. Apparently it’s gonna be quite emotional, and it’ll be strange after, not having the kid on set anymore.” It was a revelation, a nightmare that foreshadowed the truth in their own dimension.

“Thanks uh- Misha.” ‘Jensen’ rubbed his hand over his face, shocked by the oncoming doom. They had already lost far too many members in their makeshift hunter family, but this was different. This was their sister, whom they had protected and vouched to continue doing since the day she was born. And now the universe had this grand plan of cutting her young life short, and sending her to either heaven or hell, where so many people they loved already were.

“Do you know where um, (Y/A/N) is right now?” Sam asked, desperate to somehow convince her to remain on the show. It was the only way in which he could save his younger sibling, and he would, by the gods, do anything that he possibly could. Him and Dean had already had meetings with death himself, he couldn’t allow the new version to come and take you.

Billy would not compromise, she was intent on having a Winchester under her cloak, forever taken from life, never to return to the living. And they couldn’t take a chance, any chance on not getting (Y/N) back, she was a legacy as were they, but she was supposed to live on for longer. Their names would otherwise be nothing more than memories in the world of hunters, until they faded into distant and dead members of the community.

“In her trailer, I think. She’s rehearsing with Alexander I think.” The name that he mentioned was unfamiliar to the unfitting pair, but they spared no thought to it. Instead they sent him a quick smile before leaving the confines that they felt trapped in, and began their search for the actress of their sister.

“We have to change her mind Sammy. If she stays on the show, then our (Y/N) lives. It is the simplest solution.” Dean spoke as they walked through the lines of trailers, unable to find the name that they were searching for on any door. “Where the hell is her damn trailer?”

Sam squinted, until a name he had heard was seen on one of the doors. Alexander, whoever that was. Before he could even put any thought into his actions, he subconsciously knocked on the door, waiting a moment for an answer. And when the door opened, they were met with who looked like Jack, his hair a mess, and his shirt hanging over his shoulder, clearly put on in panic.

“What’s up guys, need something?” He scratched the back of his neck, impatient with the situation, considering the one that he had been interrupted from. A part of him feared that this was one of Jared’s infamous pranks, he had mostly been on the end of shifted lines, but worse could have been heading his way for all he knew.

Dean frowned at the sight of young man, it hardly felt right seeing the innocent boy that they knew with sex hair and slight bruises upon his neck. He cleared his throat, keeping up his expression, as he spoke to the boy. He had softened up to Jack, he was their kid in some ways, but this was no Nephilim, if anything it was worse, it was a man who impersonated they kid.

“Heard that uh, (Y/A/N) was running lines with you. Y’know where she is?” Alex’s eyes shifted slightly inside of his personal space, before everything was given away by a familiar giggle. It sounded the exact same as the one that often left (Y/N)’s mouth. Dean knew it, he would never be capable of mistaking it.

The noise had renegaded in his ears since she had been born, in the impala as John drove, through the halls of the bunker as her and Sam made jokes about his cholesterol. At the worst of times, before he knew that they existed, he liked to think that it was the voice of angel, she always guided him on the right path, and if she were to disappear from his life, he would sorely lose the track that he was hellbent on walking down.

And he could see her face now, as she tugged the sheet over her body. A frown sculpted her expression, as she looked exasperatedly between Alex whom had tried to lure the tall pair from the confines of his trailer, and the intruders who had barged carelessly in. It wouldn’t have mattered so much if her and Alexander had actually been running lines, however the situation explained more than enough of the fact that they indeed were not.

“Jared, Jensen, can you like, I don’t know, not cockblock me, for once in your elderly lives?” It felt peculiar, for both Sam and Dean. They knew that this was not their sister, but her calling them by other names was so foreign. Their skins crawled at the labelling, and it only reminded them farther of their cause, the reason that they were sent by an angelic being to be here in this very moment.

“I am also getting bored of it.” Alexander tilted his head, in agreement with (Y/A/N), who only grinned at his compliance to suit her opinions, and Dean could only roll his eyes, just like he did with Jack the majority of the time. “But it’s cool, but can we hurry this along, I mean not to be rude, but aren’t you guys supposed to be filming a scene in like five minutes?”

Sam cleared his throat, admittedly he did like Jack. The kid was sweet, however this was not him, it rather was a man who pretended to be a Nephilim for payment, and was bedding the doppelganger of his sister. If he were to see his sister and the devil’s child in such a compromising predicament, most people would assume he’d be the calm sibling, but they’d be wrong. He would go mad, and think of a way to keep the pair separate.

But luckily for them, there had never been such adult situations insinuated between their dear (Y/N) and Jack, or at least not that they were aware of. This riled Dean, and so he couldn’t help but feel like exploding. It angered him that any man had laid their bare and lustrous hands upon his youngest sibling. No one was to have that pleasure, she was supposed to remain innocent, even if she were legal.

“Seriously?! Jack of all people?!” He bellowed at (Y/A/N), shaking his head at their obvious exchange. If (Y/A/N) had any clothes on underneath the white sheet that hugged her body as she lay on the sofa, her instincts would have driven her over to Jensen and her palm would have met the side of his stubbly face.

“First of all, you need to start remembering Alex’s name, and that goes for Jared too. You can’t just keep calling him Jack, even after I’m done here and move onto my next project.” Her words, although not having the intent to, had the effect of triggering Sam’s goal, in-deliberately reminding him of their foremost goal. It was not to get angry at the characters that played them and their loved ones, it was to save someone that was incredibly important to their world.

“And second,” the woman in covering continued, “this isn’t exactly going to get me to stay on the goddamn show, if you barge in here, interrupting our privacy. If you don’t like what me and Alex are doing off screen, you sure aren’t going to like what is gonna go down between (Y/N) and Jack. Sometimes I do swear that you’re just like Sam and Dean.”

The jab she made at them struck nerves, but they knew that this was not the real her. It may have looked like (Y/N), but this was only a woman who played the part of her. “We’ve been trying to make you stay on the show?” Sam asked, his voice soft. He didn’t want to be harsh, she was already uncomfortable enough.

It was her unknowing that they were actually Sam and Dean that could be an element that they could use, a tool of convincing. “Yes, for weeks now.” (Y/A/N) sighed, pinching the point that was between her eyebrows. “And I’m getting tired of it, and overall, this character. I’ve played her for years on end, I think that her story should have a finishing point, a finale. I’m ready for bigger and brighter things, something that is not pretending to be a strong woman on set, and as soon as I walk away from the cameras, I go back to being weak.”

“I think you’re going to have to explain a little more if I’m going to get any of that.” Dean prompted, both him and Sam had turned away, giving the actress in the sheets the privacy to change. The shuffling of fabrics could be heard, they had been in worse situations with their sister, small motel rooms, of which they could usually only afford one in the past, helped nobody. And none of them received the personal space that should have been an outright human right.

“Of course neither of you understand.” Alex sighed, “she wants a smaller workspace, one where there aren’t so many eyes on her. The whole ordeal got out of hand, and now there are people online saying terrible things about her and I. Neither of you have made such a mistake, or had something so sacred and personal leaked on the internet. The things people say really digs in deep, she at least wants a break, can’t you understand that?”

“Wait, what got leaked?” Sam’s curiosity often informed him of things that he did not wish to be aware of, and this was one of their instances. Alex huffed and rolled his eyes, walking over to where (Y/A/N) was now fully clothed, and took a seat on the sofa beside her, their eyes meeting and mirroring smiles shining at one another.

The sight admittedly made Sam smile, but it made Dean feel internally sick. The sight of what looked like their sister and Jack fuelled a fire inside of him, he wanted his eyes to burn and the memory to be forever removed from his sights.

“Look, you play a pretty badass character, although I’d say Dean has a bit more kick to him.” The man himself chuckled, but no one joined in, so he continued through a forced smile, coming to sit down next to Alex, his ignorance to what happened there merely minutes ago encouraging his brother to cringe.

“But that’s not my only point, you’re here, whilst those sad souls that sit behind their computers all day waste their time typing crap. The life you have, the family that you have here, is worth more than the opinions of a few, invisible idiots, who are only jealous of everything that you have earned for yourself. Don’t breathe their toxicity win, because if you do, the bad guys win, and then you will only fade out of the spotlight and they’ll forget all about you, and all of the things they ever posted about you.”

Alex had been understanding through all of (Y/N)’s decision to leave the cast, although to begin with he had tried to convince her to stay. And it seemed out of all of them, it was Jensen that made her reconsider her options, he could see it behind her eyes, the unravelling of interest, the flickering of hope.

The only thing that the younger actor could not tell were that these were not Jensen’s words, they fell from the lips of Dean Winchester himself. A character that he knew of, and was an important symbol on the show that he was cast on. But it did not matter if he was not aware of that snippet, because it changed nothing, other than possibly (Y/A/N)’s mindful decision.

“You know what, you’re right Ackles. It’s not often that I say that, but the thought of leaving everyone here, settling for something that I have no connection to or history with, it is undermining. And I’m going to talk to Kripke, he’ll be over the moon with the consideration, however if he chooses that (Y/N) is to die as was planned due to my indecisiveness, then that shall be the battle that I am to bargain with.” They had won (Y/A/N) over, it was victory.

It was also the closest that they could do by themselves to save (Y/N). If this didn’t work, they would be nothing more than John’s broken tools, defined by all those that they were always mourning. And it would only make their sister another name on that sour list, even if her death would pain them substantially more than others.

“I guess we’ll go then.” Sam awkwardly spoke, encouraging Dean to stand from the christened furniture and join him in leaving the sexually active couple alone. He sent the woman a nod, and Alex a raised eyebrow. He would have Jack’s head if he ever thought he had the guts or wings to be so intimate with their sister, he’d make him feel something, and it would be painful. Torturous even.

They shut the door behind them as they departed from the actors, a smirk on Dean’s face. He felt victorious, he was the same hero that would read (Y/N) stories when it was dark and a storm was thundering outside, as she hid under the duvet of some dingy motel bed, a torch protecting her from the enveloping bleakness, but also her brothers. “I’d call this a win.”

“They said about a video…” Sam had Jared’s phone in his hand, he scrolled through the feed with a wrinkled nose and scorned eyes. After he received an answer to what it was concluding, he put the device away, he could never look at Jack and (Y/N) around each other the same again. It was burdened by the facts of this world, contradicting the innocence that both the kids in their world showed. “It was a leaked sex scene of the show, Dean.”

“Heck no!” Growled the elder brother, shaking his head. The instant images that flashed through his mind of the Nephilim atop of his little sister made his teeth grit in anger, and a pit of queasiness fold in the cave of his stomach. He already wasn’t too sure on Lucifer’s spawn, this only enhanced that formed opinion, and he wished to shoot the child more than ever in this instant, even if the real him was not around.

“They’re not actually the people we know Dean.” Sam comforted him, easing his anger, but only slightly. “Nothing like that has happened between them, he is in another world, whilst (Y/N) is in the bunker, reading lore and trying to find a way to bring mum and Jack back to us.”

“Yet Sammy, nothing has happened yet.” He allowed himself to shut his eyes for a second, and the next thing that he knew, he was returned home. His speech must have worked on the employee of the show Supernatural, otherwise, Gabriel surely would not have returned them to their home world.

“He’s gone, for chuck sake. How are we supposed to bring Jack and Mary back if we don’t have archangel grace?!” The stressed voice of their younger sibling often triggered a debate from the brothers, but seeing and hearing her, it was a miracle. They couldn’t waste time and argue, instead Sam lurched forward, grabbing the girl and bringing her into the embrace of his giant like arms.

“We’ll figure it out (Y/N/N), we always do.” He spoke softly, earning a confused yet pleased smile. The hug had come out of nowhere, but it calmed her nerves, the rushing of the blood that hurtled around the veins of her body slowed, and it gave her a moment of peace, a blank mind before she began researching again.

“I have a question.” Dean stated with his gruff tone, squinting at his female sibling. He suppressed a smile, she was oblivious to the blockade that had rested above her head like a raincloud, but he knew that she was here for good. And that she was not leaving to any sort of afterlife any time soon. “Do you have the hots for Jack?”

(Y/N)’s eyes went wide, however she forced a scoff to hide the shock and cover up anything that her brothers could pick up on. She released herself from Sam’s hold, taking a couple of simple steps backwards, so that she could have a clear view of the expressions that both of them wore. “Are you seriously asking me that at a time like this?” Her sentence was finished with a sigh and a roll of her eyes.

But her brothers knew their sister well enough, and that she indeed did not want to admit something to them. (Y/N) was much easier to read than (Y/A/N) was, they had known this growing woman since the day that she was born, the same day in which John rescued the shrieking baby from a mother that was fed and eaten by wolves. She would have been next, however the hunter saved her, as was in his job description, but he couldn’t bare to let her stream through the system.

He felt an attachment to her, and looking at her was practically the same as the notion of peering at one of his boys. She was to be a Winchester, he hadn’t decided it, but God himself did. The universe worked in mysterious ways, it was as though it was all written out for the family, but this instant, none of them minded. It gave the boys another reason to fight, another person to love, and eventually another family member to lose.

But it had been evaded this time, Gabriel had although not helped them with reaching their mother and the son of Kelly Kline, however, he had somewhat saved (Y/N) himself. Without his trickster interference, they’d have never known of her doomed fate, or have been able to fix it.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Dean was smug with being right, as he always was. Overall though, he was more pleased to know that they had stopped the crumbling of the bottom of the family tree, they had protected their sister, literally to the ends of the world.

“Pick up a damn book and help me, I’m not doing all of this research by myself.” Another sign that he was indeed correct, changing the subject, how original. But neither of the brothers, more so Dean than Sam, even wanted to try and switch the mindset that (Y/N) had about the boy. They were allowed to have feelings, romantic and so on, and their sister appeared happy with the tether that was from her heart to Jack’s.

The vampires were almost mutated. This apocalypse world had really taken a toll on all life. Michael of this plain had destroyed everything that was known to be true, even living itself. The habitat of these morsal creatures was dark, and disgusting. Humans had already tried to pass through the deadly lair to reach the other side, to get to the rebellion camp, however, no one had survived to the opposite end of things.

(Y/N) felt hopeless, even as she walked through the home of the starving monsters. She had never been a fan of vampires, no hunter was, but this was cruel to every extent. They didn’t even appear as human anymore, their fates had been cursed by this ruined land. Without the world that was in her own, they would be worse off, everything in this dimension was.

Everyone of their company was on edge, Dean ensured that he kept a sturdy eye forward, looking for any light. He knew (Y/N) would have to be okay, it was paved for her to be so in the other universe, she’d be fine. Of course, he still worried, that was what he did in retrospect, all day, every day, he worried that it was to be someone’s last.

And he was right, as the monsters crept from the dark, tasting the scent of rushing blood in the air. They had lured them from their slumber, and they began to attack, dragging one of the travellers towards their death, where they would be fed on until he was completely drained. (Y/N) swung her machete, beheading one of the animals without a second glance, but perhaps she should have spared another look on the side, as she was a target.

She was the prey to what she was raised to hunt, it wrapped its clawed hand around her leg like a coil, dragging her to the ground, and feasting its teeth into her supple flesh. This was it, there was no route away from her fate, and her body was already weak from blood loss, and so she gave up, and refused to fight. Her body was dragged into the abyss of the nest, and its members followed after her.

Sam noticed their apparent glee, they had yet again prized food from them. He looked around to see whom it may be, and he was aghast with the sight. (Y/N) had her eyes shut as her limp form was being taken by vampires, and he froze, traumatised by the sight. And his surprised and hurt stature gave another of the beasts the perfect opportunity to rip into the rubber of his neck, and relish in the unstoppable river of blood that poured out from the fatal wound.

“No!” Dean cried out, noticing that his sister too had disappeared. Before he could follow after the menaces and get vengeance, and possibly save his family from being the meal of savages, Castiel grasped his arm, pain rendering in the blueness of his vessel’s eyes.

“They’re gone Dean.” His words rang through the hunter’s head. This was his worst nightmare. Gabriel’s warning had not helped at all, because (Y/N) was dead, and so was Sam. He forced himself to trudge on, pained like no other time before. Sam had died before, but he had always found a way to retrieve him back into life, and even through his tragic absence, he always had (Y/N). Now, the only other Winchester was his mother, who also needed to be saved from this damned world.

“Think about it Sammy, Jack is going to be so pleased to see you alive, but your little sis, well, I’m sure that is going to be one hell of a reunion between them.” Lucifer smirked, he was in Nick’s body again, using it as a vessel. “And he’ll think of me as a saviour, a knight that saved his princess from a terrible fate.”

The fallen archangel always had ulterior motives, and Sam realised that he had no choice in whether he’d rather remain dead, or be used as a bargaining chip by the devil himself. His interest in Jack was not exactly pure, it was clear to the man that he sought the backup, the power of his biological son. His intent was to creep into the boy’s mind, and decipher for the kid the difference between wrong and right.

“That’s what you want, to lie to him about who you are?” He couldn’t exactly say he was surprised, even more so that the audience of vampires were seething to break free from Lucifer’s force. He wasn’t even supposed to be here, he should have been in the bunker, his grace feeding away at Rowena’s spell, and keeping the gate open for their return.

“I’ll just bend the truth to fit the story, and I care about my son. As you care about your dear sister, and it would be a shame if she were not to wake, and then the news will have to be delivered to my boy, and I’m sure that would just break his half and half heart.” The celestial being, the epidemy of evil tutted at the thought, only to send Sam a mischievous smirk afterwards. “You don’t want him to be like me, but without her, he’ll be in so much pain that he won’t think about his actions. If he has (Y/N/N), then that choice will be entirely up to him, and what he believes in, yada yada yada.”

The sight of his sister covered in her own blood, motionless on the ground, bite marks on her shoulders and elsewhere drew out a desperation in Sam. He couldn’t not allow the villain to bring her back to life, and it seemed that no matter what he disputed, that Lucifer would do it anyway, to get himself in Jack’s good books. And so he hung his head low, awaiting the personal enemy of his to resurrect the most important woman in his life.

On first instinct, (Y/N) gasped in air. There was a lack of it rolling around the vitals of her lungs, but her breath was taken away once more, when she saw the looming of a horrifying figure, a first son of god. He was supposed to be, even if forced to do so by the traditions of magic, be at the bunker, revelling them with a way back. Rowena had been left there also, to keep the spell brewing, and a fearful eye on the hellish shadow.

Assumingly, he had escaped his sentence, and for some reason, brought her to life. It was no mistake as to what the vampires had done to her, she could smell the spilling of her own blood over her thrifted and worn clothes, and it was gruesome. Although it was not the hunter’s first time in being a sponge to her injuries, but nevertheless, she fought to stand beside Sam, who steadied her shaken feet, and balanced out the rest of her body by looping his supportive arm around her waist.

“Come on.” Lucifer rolled the human eyes that he wore like spectacles into the lives of the Winchesters, unimpressed by the slowness of the world’s large cockroaches. “We have places to be and sons to meet.” At his verbalised of clarity for his ungodly presence, (Y/N)’s body became rigid. His intent was to get to Jack, she couldn’t allow him to provoke a fire inside the boy.

He was sweet and innocent, even harmless, despite the accident that had happened when he accompanied her and her brothers on a hunt. If Lucifer reached him, he would only try and navigate the darkness inside of him to be what it was, rather than try and make him change it into something brighter, something that was good, like Kelly would have wanted.

“No.” (Y/N) refused, earning a frown from Sam and a elongated groan from Lucifer. She had died, it didn’t matter if she were to return to that fate, not if she stood by what she truly believed in. Nothing much would change, other than the vampires getting another meal from the same body, Dean already thought that she was extinguished from life, and the news would be passed on before any of them were to reach him.

“Oh, for crying out loud!” The devil shook his wolfish head, Winchesters were always so stubborn. “I’d allow it if Sam were to stand against the gift of life, I’ve seen what is inside of his head after all, but you! You’re the priority here, you are Jack’s weakness.” This gesture of good faith seemed to be more than it was worth, but if she didn’t comply willingly, then he would force her to follow him along, and live.

“Where’d you hear that from? He doesn’t have a weakness, he just has a good heart. I’m just another person that he lives with, a soldier that is going to fight anyone that dares to try and hurt him. And I won’t mind if I have to give my life to try and kill you.” She spat at the disgrace of heaven, hardly moved by his goal. As a Winchester, the stubbornness ran through her veins, even if the bloodline itself did not.

“I hear things, and I did in that bunker. Like how Dean was speaking about you and Jackie boy, and how it all made sense. The shared looks, the flushed faces, all that gross stuff. He didn’t seem too happy with the circumstances, but he was content with the fact that you were alive, like you are again, because of me.”

Lucifer was the last person that (Y/N) would thank for her existence, but she realised that there was no way out of his trap, she was the bait for Jack, that would reel the boy into the wings of his dreaded father.

He could sometimes be so naive, that she feared that Jack would fall for the extension of kindness, one that hardly suited Lucifer. But that was up to him, and in this apocalyptic version of her world, anything could happen.

“She’s dead.” Dean’s voice was gravelly, it had been dragged through hope, and now the realisation that his baby brother and sister were lost to life. The eyes belonging to Jack widened, and tears began to form.

He could quite comprehend how he felt. There was a tearing in his chest, he felt as though he was being split apart, his breathing rapidly increased, and his eyes flared like the bursts of the sun.

Until whispers hit his ears, and he looked up, only to see the girl alive and well. He was not the only one relieved in the circumstances, Dean and Mary were too, but they feared the fact that Lucifer had joined them, and was being trailed by the bloodied siblings; the ones that he had saved for his selfish purposes.

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