#angel/demon AU

[hippiecockatoo]

Guardian Angel AU

[loodgack]

HAPPY HOLIDAYS 🎄🥂

[angelgalchicha]

Doomed by the plot lovers AU

[sweeetcheeese]

𝐈 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐄𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫. Angel/Demon AU <3 

[lulublack90]

Prompt 19 - Angel/Demon AU

@wolfstarmicrofic April 19, word count 682

After the fall of Eden and the opening of Pandora’s box, when the World began to crumble, an Angel was created for each Demon. It was their job to restore the balance of any ill-doing their Demon committed and try to quell any rebellion of the Demon realm. 

Sirius had travelled the world and back again, over the aeons, following his Demon and the destruction left behind in his wake. It irked him that his Demon, unlike most of the others, seemed to be particularly creative in his wrongdoings. He’d set off a volcano in Pompeii because a street vendor had gotten in his way. He wiped Atlantis off the map without a trace it had ever existed because the king had refused him hospitality. The fall of Rome. The Titanic, World War 1 and World War 2, for that matter. 

Modern government had been a rather nasty one, putting imbeciles in charge of entire nations of humans and watching the utter carnage that followed. 

After that pièce de résistance, the Demon had calmed down. The humans were destroying themselves faster than he could provoke them, so he’d basically retired from his demonic ways and spent his time revelling in the world going to pot. 

Sirius tracked him down to a little village up in Scotland and, for the next few decades, tried to convince the Demon to give being good a go. 

“Come on, Remus, why won’t you even try? You never know you might like it.” Sirius had said as they sipped tea in Remus’s library. “You can’t be all bad. There must be some good in you, at least. I mean, look at all these books,” He waved his hands at the floor-to-ceiling shelves that covered every wall. “You have hundreds of them. You must have absorbed some good from them.” Remus slurped his tea from his cup, making Sirius wince. He placed the teacup down on his saucer and leaned all the way back in his chair. Grasping the armrests with his hands, he smiled genteelly at the Angel. 

“Why don’t you open one and find out?” Remus challenged, his voice dripping with honey. Sirius gingerly reached out and selected a book at random. He let it fall open in his hands and read a few sentences before he snapped it shut, horror colouring his face. 

“It’s smut!” He grabbed another and another down off the shelves. Tossing each aside after he’d read a few words. “They’re all smut!” He exclaimed, still going. “More smut!” He stood back from the shelves and spun on the spot, looking with new eyes on the rows and rows of books. “It’s all smut!” He gasped. Remus snorted, and Sirius turned to face him. 

“Come on, Sirius, try it. I bet you’ll like it.” Remus purred. And for the first time in millennia, the Angel was tempted by the Demon. 

His feet moved him forward of their own accord. He watched as his hand raised and touched the spine of one of the books. His fingers wrapped around it, and he began to remove it from the shelf, but Remus jumped up and yanked him away. 

“No, no. Not that one. Your eyes will melt in their sockets if you read that one. Er, try this.” The Demon reached up, revealing a strip of tanned skin between his knitted jumper and black trousers. Sirius swallowed. What was happening to him? Remus placed a thin paperback book in Sirius’s hand, and they returned to their seats. 

Sirius flipped the book open and began to read. A strange, tingly feeling in his abdomen startled him when he read a description of a man walking across a beach. It almost felt as though butterflies were happily flapping inside his stomach. It wasn’t unpleasant. Sirius could feel that this was the start of something different. He didn’t know what yet, but he was sure it wouldn’t be long before he found out. 

The Demon watched him closely as Sirius devoured the pages, a half smile tugging at his lips as he poured another cup of tea.

[077gasoot]

more angel demon au stuff..

[cryscendo]

Hi, how about an abrupt,  heated kiss during the middle of a fight for Klaine?

i bet you didn’t think i would ever respond to this!! well i will say that i kinda ran away with this plot a bit. does it fit the prompt? only vaguely. BUT it’s another thrilling installment to my angel/demon au with a bit more lore thrown in. dedicating it to you as well as @porcelainvino for their various art pieces for this au <3 hope you love it and sorry for the wait!!

Paring: Kurt Hummel/Blaine Anderson

Word Count: 2030

Rating: T

AU: Angel/Demon AU

fic can be read under the cut <3

There were a lot of things that turned out to be just as unpleasant about falling, not including the actual falling part.

For one, he was weaker than he used to be. He did suspect that would happen, but it still hurt his ego a bit. He used to have so much power that he often didn’t even know what all to do with it. Not that he really could do much with it anyway; the big men upstairs never allowed much fun to be had. More time was spent existing as a militant entity than was spent actually basking in the alleged splendor that was heaven.

If given the option between going back to that or experiencing the pain of falling all over again, Kurt would choose to fall every damn day.

Besides, angels don’t get to play with humans like they’re Barbie dolls. And that’s way more fun.

The man before him, unsuspecting and ignorant, saw Kurt at a bar and thought he’d be an easy target. Kurt knew he perfectly looked the part of a young man getting his first drink at a bar as a twenty-one year old. Aging was such an earthly concept and Kurt was not burdened with it. But to an older man, the illusion of wide-eyed innocence was all too compelling.

Kurt claimed he ‘knew a spot’, which was just as cliché as it sounded, but it was effective nonetheless. Apparently intelligence didn’t always come with age.

It wasn’t long after he got the man to the abandoned storage facility that he knew something was terribly, terribly wrong. Not soon enough, though, for Kurt had already made quick work of knocking the man out and handcuffing him to a chair. When he came to once more, it was in a fit of panic.

“Look, I didn’t sign up for this kind of crazy! So just let me go, okay?” The man pleaded with Kurt and it was charming if nothing else. Kurt leaned over him, one knee braced against the chair in a way that could be seen as provocative in any other circumstance.

“What, am I too old for you?” Kurt asked in a mocking whine. “I swear, I’m only twenty, maybe thirty centuries old!”

“Whatever game you’re playing here, kid, I’m not interested so just let me-”

“Let him go, Kurt,” a voice spoke up behind him. Kurt grinned as he straightened up. Of course he would show up. It was impossible for him to stay away. He made a bit of a show of turning around to face the new arrival — his favorite little angel.

He turned towards the voice, maintaining his flirty tone. “Just can’t stay away from me, can you?”

“You could say that,” Blaine replied and that’s when Kurt saw it — the glint of a blade held discreetly in his palm. He recognized the weapon, as it was a piece from Heaven’s arsenal. See, a regular knife couldn’t kill Kurt.

But that one could.

Kurt’s grin dropped as he backed away from the man strapped to the chair, and subsequently also away from Blaine. “What do you think you’re doing with that?”

“You attract too much attention to yourself.”

“Well, I can’t help but pull focus,” Kurt responded in a rather clipped manner. The man in the chair began to panic even more upon being approached by Blaine.

“Listen, man,” the guy began quickly, “you don’t need to kill him or anything! Just let me go and I’ll be on my way!”

Blaine’s eyes flickered down to the stranger, eerily calm. “You don’t need to see this,” he said simply and before the man could even begin to reply, Blaine rested his palm to his forehead, immediately knocking him out. Putting a human to sleep rather than killing them; that was so painfully just like Blaine to do.

“Why do you have that thing?” Kurt interrogated the second that the man was unconscious.

Blaine turned the knife a bit in his hand as if observing it. “Come on, Kurt, you know exactly what this is.”

Kurt maintained a semi-safe distance. “Why do you need that thing to kill me? You’ve never needed that for a demon before.” It was true. Blaine could take down a demon easily. It made them cruelly unmatched. Blaine had never threatened to kill him before, but it would be undoubtedly easy for him to do so should he want to. For Blaine, a demon is an easy target. He was an easy target.

Unless…

Kurt’s grin returned. “You can’t kill me, can you?” He asked coyly.

Blaine remained serious, but Kurt could see a crack in his expression letting on that he was nervous. Kurt seemed to always have that effect on him. “Not at my rank, no,” he said simply, but Kurt knew what he meant. He wasn’t strong enough to take out Kurt. An ordinary demon, he’d have no problem. But as luck would have it, Kurt wasn’t an ordinary demon.

Kurt took a risk. He moved a few steps towards Blaine and the weapon he possessed. “You’re not going to kill me.”

“I could.”

A few more steps. “But you won’t.”

“I might.”

“But you won’t.” Kurt was directly in front of him now. He knew it was a dangerous game, but he had a point to prove. “Because if you were going to, you would’ve done it already. So tell me angel, was this a direct order from one of your bossmen, or are you just simply that obsessed with me?”

“Don’t push your luck, Kurt,” Blaine spoke, gravely serious.

“Or what?” Kurt challenged. He could feel Blaine’s steady breaths from just how close they were. Blaine’s gaze met his evenly. “If you’re going to kill me, then do it. I’m wide open.” Kurt tilted his head a fraction, his eyes alight with the rush that comes with toying with Blaine. His tone shifted into something devilishly flirtatious as he spoke again. “So, y’know, take me, I’m yours and all that.”

It was then that Blaine sprung into action. With quick work, he managed to securely grip onto the collar of Kurt’s shirt, using his strength over the other to force Kurt backwards. There was a time where Kurt may have been stronger than him. But Kurt gave all that up, and he still refused to regret it.

That didn’t mean he loved Blaine constantly using that fact against him.

Blaine got him against a wall with one particularly rough push. Kurt felt the brittle wall crack slightly behind him. Fuck, Blaine was strong.

Blaine was strong.

Once Blaine has Kurt pinned defenseless against the wall, he brings the blade down. Kurt doesn’t know whether it was thanks to adrenaline, or his own sense of speed in the face of self-preservation, but he reached up and circled his fingers around Blaine’s wrist before he could manage to connect the weapon.

The blade stilled, suspended in the air between them. Kurt imagined the scene was almost picturesque in a way — him pressed between Blaine’s firm body and the unforgiving wall, his long fingers locked around Blaine’s wrist. Angel and demon. Lovers. Enemies.

Blaine really was going to kill him.

Their shared breathing revealed the exhaustion that their overexertion had caused. Kurt knew, given his current position, he was fully at Blaine’s mercy. The mercy of an angel who just tried to kill him.

That gave Kurt little other choice. Slowly, he tugged at Blaine’s wrist until the blade was sitting just above his throat. He leveled Blaine with a steely look, deathly serious. “Well, go ahead, angel. Do what you gotta do.”

“I don’t want to kill you, Kurt,” Blaine clarified, but didn’t pull the blade away.

“Could’ve fooled me,” he bit out before he could even think to check his tone. This was, in large part, his own doing. He opened the door for Blaine to corner him, he really had no right to be upset about it actually occurring. Even in his current position, Kurt couldn’t refrain from looking down his nose at Blaine, hoping to properly demonstrate his distaste from his present circumstances. “I’m guessing you got assigned a job from one of the big men upstairs?”

“You’re lucky that it’s me and not someone else.”

“Oh yeah, I sure feel lucky.” Kurt’s fingers twitched around Blaine’s wrist as he continued to hold the blade close to Kurt’s throat. But hasn’t pressed in yet, and Kurt cannot fathom why. He has the perfect opportunity. Kurt is basically giving him a free pass, so why isn’t he going for it? “Well?”

Blaine’s grip on the weapon slacked just a bit. “Nothing is ever easy with you.”

“So why don’t you take care of the problem?”

Blaine said nothing, did nothing. He only stood and continued to watch Kurt in silence, and Kurt could practically see the flurry of thoughts swirl around in Blaine’s head. Kurt almost felt bad for the guy; he knew that he didn’t make Blaine’s job simple, and admittedly, does very little to combat that fact.

Eventually, though, Blaine shakes his head. “You’re right. I won’t do it.”

The sound of the metal blade clattering to the ground reverberated discordantly off the walls of the warehouse.

Kurt took no time to ponder Blaine’s decision to spare him. Instead, he kicked the weapon away from the two of them and then, in quick succession, flipped their two positions. Blaine didn’t put up any fight with being pushed up against the wall himself. He could break free if he really wanted to. He chose not to.

“Do you still love me, Blaine?” Kurt asked, not ready for the words to fall from his mouth before they did.

“Are demons even capable of love?”

Kurt wasn’t sure. Maybe demons who never experienced love aren’t. Love is formed from soul, grace, and humanity, of which demons have none.

But Kurt wasn’t always a demon, and he still didn’t really fit the mold of one. Fallen angels are different from regular demons. They still possess morality, at least to some extent. It was just like Kurt to never really fit in anywhere.

“Do you? Still love me?”

Honey colored eyes gazed at Kurt with something akin to sympathy, which would burn his blood if it weren’t for the fact that he so desperately needed a response.

Blaine nodded.

Kurt kissed him. He didn’t even hesitate. With Blaine pinned up against the wall, it was easy for him to leverage a searing, bruising kiss against soft lips. Blaine always tasted the same, like coffee, — such an earthly pleasure that he achieved no benefit from and only chose to indulge for its luxury — and something else a touch more divine. Kurt couldn’t quite pinpoint it, but it tasted vaguely familiar from the holy kingdom that he was no longer welcome to.

Kurt pulled away with a sigh. Blaine panted quietly, a faintly pink blush forming under tanned skin. Kurt was right about one thing, Blaine was an angel — in every sense of the word.

“I don’t suppose I can convince you to disappear for your own safety?” Blaine eventually asked.

Kurt smiled. “Not a chance in hell.”

Blaine nodded in understanding, as if he already anticipated Kurt’s response. “You always were stubborn to a fault.”

Blaine wasn’t wrong. And as much as he would love to stand here with Blaine forever, it wasn’t wise to hang around angels for too long — even if the angel in question was Blaine.

He finally stepped away from Blaine, allowing the man some space. Kurt glanced over to the man tied to the chair. He had forgotten that guy was here. He was simply a means to an end, afterall.

“You may want to wipe that guy’s mind, angel. Or else he’s going to be a real problem when he wakes up.”

Kurt headed towards the exit of the building, but not before Blaine called out to him. “Suddenly not so keen on sticking around?”

Kurt grinned, if not mostly to himself. “Oh, don’t worry, you’ll find me again. And who knows? Maybe you’ll actually have it in you to kill me next time.”

[bitterfishiesstuff]

More angel/demon au inspired by @letshareapapou Just a loose sketch. I debated finishing it, but I'm to tired lol.

Coffee was an evening routine that Tech treasured above all else.

It was a morning routine as well, but that was different.

Morning coffee was the mystery grounds Phee got from her latest 'acquisition'. Sometimes something so extravagant, that at the sip Tech started running through the prayers for Phee to recite when she admitted to stealing it. Other times something so foul that he decided drinking it was penance enough for her.

Morning coffee was the start to his work day, trying to save as many souls as they could. Including hers.

Evening coffee on the other hand, was far more pleasurable. Not because of the coffee, but rather who he shared it with. Not that he'd ever admit that to anyone, even himself.

Crosshair was particularly out of it this morning. His short silver white hair stuck up where it could, eyes thin slits against the late afternoon sun.

"I was wondering if you'd make it to evening service today." Tech handed him a mug of coffee from his own private supply. Nothing fancy, he didn't have much wealth, helping people rarely paid well.

Crosshair took it all the same, savoring the smell as if it was one of Phee's over priced bags.

It was adorable, seeing the snarky angel disoriented, silver tounge tied with sleep. Lethargic as a large cat caught in a sunbeam.

This was something only he was allowed to see, a moment of weakness from his... friend- companion... rival? Whatever he was, only Tech was allowed to see him to vulnerable.

It was a blessing he thanked God for everyday in his morning prayers, when the pessimistic angel couldn't accidently intercept his words.

Crosshair took a sip and let out a small contented noise, resolutely ignoring the old jab at his rising habits.

Tech reached for his own mug and shook his head. He'd enjoy the comfortable pause while it lasted. Once Crosshair was up they'd start saving the people human intervention couldn't help.

And if he was lucky, perhaps Crosshair would indulge him in a small temptation as a reward.

[autisticvampireclub]

Demon Collin….. he is Frogy :} (and some pikmin! Some designs for what they look like when led by angels vs demons)

[theheartofthestar]

Prompt 19 - Angel/Demon AU

@wolfstarmicrofic April 19th - 423 words

"You need to stop telling him that being nice to people is the right thing to do!!" The demon says as soon as the three of them are alone in the bedroom.

"You need to stop encouraging him into fights!!" The angel presses an accusatory finger into the demon's chest.

"He needs to learn to stand up for himself!"

"He needs to stay safe!"

"You both need to stop telling me what to do!" Harry snaps, and it cuts both angel and demon short. "I'm not a child anymore, alright?! I can make my own choices!!"

And with that, he closes the bathroom door with a loud bang.

"Great, now you've made the poor kid cry" Remus scowls at the demon.

"I made him cry? You're the one who's always bringing up the flames of hell stuff!" Sirius is so offended that Remus is trying to blame this one on him. They both know Harry would be crying in the bathroom regardless, he's quick to tears under any kind of strong feeling. They were both there when Harry teared up seeing those puppies last week. They were very cute puppies, but that's beside the point.

"As motivation!" Remus huffs, and pulls a cigarette out.

"Well it's motivating me to want to commit arson is what it's doing" Sirius grumbles as he watches the Angel light his fag. It's a godly cigarette, so it'll smell like daisies or spring clouds or something ridiculous like that. Sirius is too proud to ask the angel for one, but Remus offers one anyway. They've known each other for a long time.

They stay silent.

"You cannot tell me that Dudley kid didn't deserve the punch in the face he got" Sirius grunts, lifting himself up to sit in the windowsill.

"Harry's got a mean right hook" Remus says, and the demon can tell he's fighting a smirk.

"Almost like his old man, huh" Sirius tries to go for a playful tone, but it falls flat. James had been their favorite kid, and the sadness over his death still weights heavily on them both.

"Stop encouraging him into fights, he's gonna get kicked out of school" Remus says, and it's an argument as old as time.

"He's not" Sirius scoffs

"Is too"

"Is not, and if he were, I know where that old headmaster lives" Sirius says. Dumblepants doesn't stand a chance.

"You really need to to tone down the arson, Pads" the angel says. Sirius barks a laugh, Remus really knows him well.

[godshaper]

one of the fallen seeks redemption in the arms of an angel

[loodgack]

old NxP art 2-3 is Angel / Demon AU

[baatarthefirst]

corruption for the smut ask pls you know for who

Janai never was a stereotypical demon. Never the ‘fire and brimstone for the slightest misstep’ type, nor the ‘making a deal and twisting the human’s wish’ type; she didn’t like the poor sportsmanship. She thought she’d never make a proper demon until she realized she could punish the truly evil, and there she excelled. Few demons liked this area because there was so much paperwork involved in stopping evil people from doing evil things. However, someone had to do it, and it eased her conscience a little.

She hid her horns and donned a fine suit before heading into her exclusive club of debauchery. The people she passed were engaged in all sorts of pleasures, watching exotic shows and even joining in for a price. Her employees were given their dreams, in return they helped control and take down evil and got a light sentence in Limbo. Maybe she was a deal-making demon in some small way. It’s probably the only reason the higher ups let her take the evil souls before their time. Limbo may be the least of the nine circles, but it was still hell.

“Hello, Janai!” Her right hand person, Kazi, came to meet her with their usually cheerful manner. Janai rather enjoyed their company, and when they passed into their next life, Janai was going to visit them at least weekly to deliver care packages, “I have a priority guest. They’re waiting in the Champagne room.”

“Through the private entrance?” Translation - ‘is this priority guest walking out of the club alive?’.

“Yes, Ma’am.” Translation- ‘no, they are on the kill-on-sight-list’.

“I’ll take care of them personally.” She went to the champagne room was a private room with a private entrance so that no one would notice that there was a guest that came in but never left, “Hello, I am Janai.”

-I am Amaya.- the human set her whiskey down to sign. So this was Amaya. Enforcer, weapons dealer, one woman army. Janai had heard of this warlord, but never had the pleasure to meet her. She wanted to ask how she kept up such a mask of innocence. Normally Janai can sense evil a mile away, she can practically see the sigil of the Circle they were doomed to stamped on their forehead. Somehow this woman managed to hide from her for years, and now she finally had her. 

“What brings you to my club?” Which is the question she settled for. 

-I’m meeting a friend.- 

“Oh?” -His name is G-R-E-N. Your assistant should show him in when he arrives.-

“Of course.” she didn’t have much time. She sat down and put a hand on Amaya’s thigh, “In the meantime, let me help you relax.” -No, thank you.- An odd answer.

“Are you sure? I promise this won’t take long.” she just had to get in a little closer. 

-I said ‘no’.- Amaya glared. 

“Very well, just a dance then.” the human was about to deny her, but she didn’t allow it, “After all, that’s what champagne rooms are for.” The human didn’t want her, which was unusual but not unheard of. Even murderers could be uninterested, or loyal to their partners. However if the woman turned down a dance, it would look suspicious, and so she reluctantly nodded.

Janai snapped her fingers to start the music, she chose something with a heavy bass. The deaf human could enjoy the vibrations, the demon could enjoy having something to cover the woman’s screams. 

She took her position. Taking off clothing piece by piece, grinding her ass into Amaya’s pelvis; all the usual temptations of a lap dance. Amaya worked so hard to watch with disinterest, and then to only look respectfully. Janai could feel the blood pounding through her veins when she dared to kiss her wrist, and she heard the faintest whimper. 

Janai made her move. She straddled the warlord, who looked away, presumably so she could tell her wife or girlfriend that she hadn’t enjoyed the forced lapdance. The dancer put a hand on each bicep and centered herself, calling upon her demonic powers to snatch away the soul and leave the warlord a withered husk. 

Nothing.

How did the human cling to her soul? Was she at the service of another demon? She bore no such hellish markers. Was she a priestess of the order? Or perhaps she carried some sort of protection from demonic forces. As that was the most likely option, she started there.

Amaya was still looking away, giving Janai a chance to kiss at her neck. The human stiffened and moved with a motion to push the demon off. But Janai didn’t stand for it, she intercepted the hands and smoothly guided them away. 

She undressed the woman slowly, showing caution for any anti-demonic trinkets. She traced every muscle, looking for protective symbols. Amaya misinterpreted this as a sensual act, and by the time Janai got down to her underwear, she was wet and ready against her will. Janai had still not found anything out of the ordinary. 

After a second attempt to grasp the soul yielded no results, Janai came to the conclusion that this must be a priestess or warlord who thought they were fighting for a justified cause (though nothing she’d heard of the woman supported that). She would have to fall into temptation for Janai to get at her soul.

She got to her knees, pushed the underwear aside and ate the human out. She riled her up and let her fall. She sucked at her clit and added her fingers, but she did not bring her to an orgasm, she needed Amaya to succumb; needed her to participate rather than just endure. She kissed up the woman’s abs and breasts, to her up and up her jaw. She straddled the human’s waist and looked at her longingly.

“Fuck me.” She ordered. Amaya’s resolve had not yet broken. Janai had to respect her for that, but she could not allow her to leave unfucked, “Please.” She begged instead.

Still she stayed strong; a stubborn fire burning in her eyes. Of course, a fighter. Janai’s eyes hardened, she grabbed the woman and forced her down on the divan, pinning her. Amaya struggled for all she was worth, swinging and kicking, but the demon had a hold on her.  

She bit at her skin and rubbed her own pussy on her thigh. She teased her, telling her that she was hers now and she would do as she liked. That pissed the big bad warlord off. She didn’t take well to being owned and dominated. The result was a rather surprising burst of strength. In a moment Janai was on the floor, the human on top of her; a forearm on her throat. 

“Mine.” the human growled with a soft accent. She kept Janai pinned to the floor and took her aggressively. There were scratches, and bites, and hard thrusts with too many fingers. Amaya meant to make her scream, and surprisingly, she succeeded. The demon was given no moment to recover before the woman’s pussy was in her mouth and she was forced to finish the job.

Janai smiled as the woman crawled off of her. She’d fallen, been corrupted, and now her soul was finally for the taking -

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?! Why could she STILL not grasp this woman’s soul? Janai nearly roared, instead, she gave up. This woman would be in hell soon. It may not be counted in Janai’s record since she didn’t grab the soul herself, but by the Fires, Amaya was going to hell!  She subtly called her knife from her suit and stabbed the woman in the back. At that moment, her world twisted. No, not the world…

just her neck. The human had the same idea, breaking her neck at the same time she stabbed her. Fuck it hurt, but it wasn’t really the end of the world, no mortal could kill her without divine or demonic help. She simply straightened her head…while the human pulled the knife out of her back…

They looked at each other for a brief moment of amazement. 

In an instant, they reacted. Janai was in her demonic form. Horns grew, lava covered her skin, red and gold armor shined. The supposed club owner was revealed to be a warrior demon of retribution. Amaya had sprouted wings, blue and gold armor seemed to radiate light; the elusive warlord turned out to be an undercover warrior angel of justice.

Sword and shield clashed.

[ozpins-coffeemug]

they find each other in every universe

[rumbleonthemill]

College+angel/demon au sketches

Nicky is kinda freshman around age 25 and Theodore is near 30. They are learning uh..about love lol

[077gasoot]

angel/demon au w elesa and volo….yes i know im a crackshipper idgaf theyre yuriful