#azazel fandom

[shanastoryteller]

The day his deal comes due, Sam goes missing.

Dean tells himself it’s nothing, that he’s gotten caught up in some research, some last ditch, hail mary nonsense and that he’s just turned his phone off and everything’s fine, that he wouldn’t do something stupid, that he wouldn’t break his promise.

He tells himself that for the first two minutes after he cracks his eyes open and sees the empty bed across from him, and the first time his call goes straight to voicemail, and not much after that. Sam’s broken his promises over things significantly less important to him than his brother’s life.

Dean is dressed and in the Impala five minutes later, heart thudding wildly in his chest. He calls Bobby, Ellen, everyone he can think of, but none of them have heard from Sam, none of them have eyes on him. Sam was with him last night, even if he boosted a car, there’s only so far he can get.

He keeps calling, keep searching, desperate to stop whatever he’s trying to do, to find him, to see his brother one last time before he’s dragged to hell. To make sure Sam is going to be okay after he’s dragged to hell. But the hours tick down, the sun sets, and he can’t find a trace of him. He’s so exhausted and heart sick that when he goes to call Sam again it takes him a long time to read the number on his phone, eyes swimming, the time not making any sense.

1:03

That’s not possible.

That’s not –

His phone rings, blocking out the time with Bobby’s name across the screen, and he answers it but his throat is too thick to say anything.

“Dean?” Bobby says tentatively. “Are you – I got an email from Sam. It just said, I mean, did–“

“What did it say, Bobby?” he asks, even though he’s sure he knows.

Bobby sucks in a breath at his voice, because he knows just as well as Dean that he should be screaming in hell right now, not answering his phone. “To take care of you.”

Dean drops the phone, hears Bobby still talking as he grips the wheel and presses his forehead against the back of his hands. This is what he’d been afraid of. This is why he hadn’t wanted to mess with the deal in first place. This is the one thing he’d begged Sam not to do.

It's easy to find a crossroad.

The demon is laughing at him when it shows up, wicked grin in a pretty face. “That didn’t take you long, boy.”

It’s a different demon than the one he delt with, obviously, but Dean figures they all know the same shit, since demons are a bunch of gossips. “This wasn’t the deal. My brother lives and I die.”

“You traded your soul for your brother’s life,” she corrects, so amused by all this that all he wants to do is kill her, to exorcise her, to make her scream. “Just like your father traded his for yours. There’s no reason Sammy can’t make his own trade. Man, but is your family fucked up. Maybe if you’d just settled down like little Sammy wanted, you wouldn’t all be bargaining for each other’s lives like haggling at a flea market.”

“Untrade it,” he snaps. “My soul for him alive, come on, no year, no waiting, you bring him back and take me to hell right now.”

She laughs in his face. “You don’t have anything to bargain with, boy.”

“My soul,” he repeats, “That’s what this is about, isn’t?”

“Oh, it’s what it’s all about,” she says. “But Sammy’s a clever boy. You know that, don’t you? He didn’t trade his soul for your life, he didn’t have to. You didn’t die. No, he traded it for your soul. Sorry, honey, but your credits been declined.”

At first he doesn’t understand. Sam traded his soul for Dean’s, exactly, so there’s no reason he can’t trade it right back. Then he gets it.

She sees the exact moment it clicks, the moment despair and horror sweep across his face too quickly for him to stop them. “That’s right. Little brother owns your soul now. For some reason he didn’t think you’d take proper care of it. You have it because that’s where he wants it, but no one will be making any deals with you, Dean Winchester. You can’t sell a soul you don’t own.”

“You can’t,” he has to clear his throat, “you can’t just come in and change things at the eleventh hour-”

“Eleventh hour?” she interrupts. “Sammy made his deal eleven months ago.”

His mouth is so dry he can’t speak.

“Isn’t it funny?” she asks, head cocked to the side. “All this time, the deal he’s been trying to get out of wasn’t yours, but his own. Maybe the two of you might have even managed it, except you just wouldn’t help, would you? Insisting that he not research, that he not look for a way out, and he spent so much time trying to convince you, coaxing you to talk about your feelings when he knew you were safe, all he because he thought it would make you feel better when he was gone, because he couldn’t tell you the truth and talk about how scared he was, so talking about your fear was as close as he could get.”

Dean’s going to be sick. “Don’t – please, please, I’ll give you anything-”

“You don’t have anything,” she says, gleeful. “You want to know why I agreed? The thing that made it just too delicious to refuse? Sammy’s down there, just starting in on an eternity of torture, and all he has to do get out of it is give up your soul. It’s his, after all, and he can put the original deal back in place any time he chooses. Just one moment of weakness on his end and his beloved big brother will be on the rack instead.” She sighs happily. “It’s almost as good as anything we’re doing to him down there, the knowledge that if he slips up for even a moment then it would all be for nothing. I couldn’t have found a way to twist the knife deeper if I tried.”

There’s vomit crawling its way up his throat and he has to swallow it down before he can speak. “I can’t – I’ll do whatever you want, please, there has to be something.”

She leans forward, cruelty and delight shining in her eyes. “The only thing you can do is what you’ve been telling your precious baby brother to do for the past year. Accept it. Move on. Live a good life so his sacrifice isn’t in vain.”

God. How can she – how can Sammy expect him to –

He’s doubling over, finally upchucking what little he’s ate today, and he’s dry heaving on the dirt when he hears the fading sound of her laughter.

This can’t be real. This has to be Hell, he has to be in it right now. He has to be.

[jinkiesmariz]

Hiii I forgot i had this for like 1-2 years so :3

I think this is as finished as it’ll ever get tbhhh :3 so I might as well post it cuz I got back into Iruma again and everytime i tried to draw them I thought of this pic

Oh and here’s an Ameri sketch as a small treat :3

I did. have a whole sketch page but idgaf I’m not putting that in here

[grape-souffle]

Little update for that wip

[sparkyyx]

I’m sorry but take more oopsies! Challenge week of the oopsiesever 💥💥💥

Au by the amazing @/asleepyy as usual

[klikandtuna]

Azazel looked away. “I hate that part of me.”

“Nope. Huh-uh. None of that. You look at me, you big mope.” He put a hand to Azazel’s cheek and gently turned his face, looking earnestly into those predator’s eyes. “You do the best you can. I know you do. You try so hard. Pressure needs venting. There’s nothing wrong with that. You’re just…handling yourself. With as much discretion as is possible in our current reality. Yeah?”

The lamps flickered and dimmed as Azazel put his free hand over Baraqiel’s. His mouth twisted. “You ought to hate me, too.”

Baraqiel smiled, shifting his fingers so that they intertwined with Azazel’s—the lamps brightened again, humming faintly with increased intensity. “I could never hate you.”

“Then you’re a fool.”

“Yeah, I know. Big stupid idiot, me.” He nudged nearer—holding the wounded arm steady—and leaned in to press his lips to the demon’s temple, just above his eyebrow. He hovered there for a long moment. “I’ll never hate you,” he whispered. “Not ever. Always come here, understand? Don’t ever not come to me. I’ll never turn you away. I’m the one—I’ll always patch you up. This is the place—you can rest here. Always. I promise. Get it?”

Azazel’s eyes looked so sweet when flooded with tears. So normal, so vulnerable, so soft, so human. As though there weren’t a beast lurking beneath his skin. “All right,” he said quietly.

“I mean it, Azazel.”

“Ooh, the full name, you must be serious.”

“I am. Now let me finish up, here.” But before he released Azazel’s fingers, Baraqiel gave them a squeeze, rubbing his thumb along one knuckle.

———————

An illustration for Chapter 1: 1986 / Eden, 4004 B.C. of my fic “When You Go.”

It’s 100,000 words of reverse-Omens: demon Aziraphale (Azazel) and angel Crowley (Baraqiel) and I’m very much in love with them both. Each chapter intertwines a modern-day storyline with an anecdote from their past, hitting some familiar notes but with a fresh angle. Check it out for plenty of angst, true love, heartbreak, drama, and sweetness (with an E rating) 💛

[frutavel]

The Prophets of the Rhymelight are hand picked by the gods themselves to represent them. They are wise, powerful and widely respected individuals - but that doesn't necessarily mean they respect eachother.

And, for some, showing teeth serves as a warning.

[canis-rex-lupus]

i haven't posted any higher effort art in a long time soooo....

check out how much better my anatomy is now! this is opulence (she/her) and she's my vernid oc :) i rarely see furries with hair texture like hers so i wanted to bring one into the world !!

[dark-ethereal-visions]

You can pay them with beer & pie.

[ivyace]

I posted a thing!!! There is no regressor Erik content on the internet so I'm making some because I NEED it

[gerec]

I think it's awesome how you have your own personal library of Alexandria with saved fics, do you have like a file with all of them to download?

I love that - 'my own personal library of Alexandria' lol! Though it is pretty precious to me so the term is apt :D I can't remember exactly when I started but I had a few fics I loved disappear from my bookmarks and I was devastated; I always just assumed they would stay on ao3 forever. It's a tough lesson to learn but now if I read a fic I don't want to lose I always l always download a copy, and I have a collection on my hard drive (sorted by author, I'm anal that way) that's growing all the time. :D :D :D

[mav-the-artist]

"I shall be the instrument of Armageddon."

[nobodymitskigabriel]

I think I need to start tagging canon crit. "It was just done in a way you don't like." Yes?? Am I not allowed to think the show handled something poorly??

[grape-souffle]

A little hint for something else I'm working on...

[ciaossu-imagines]

Welcome to Demon School, Iruma-kun! Masterlist

Agares Picero

NSFW headcanons

NSFW headcanons

Hogwarts AU! Would he enter the Triwizard Tournament?

Allocer Schneider

Anal play headcanons

Hogwarts AU! Would he enter the Triwizard Tournament?

Ameri Azazel

Waiting for her to get home drabble

Asmodeus Alice

NSFW headcanons

Assorted headcanons

Hogwarts AU! Would he enter the Triwizard Tournament?

Clara Valac

Assorted headcanons

Soulmate AU! headcanons

Hogwarts AU! Would she enter the Triwizard Tournament?

Dali Dantalion

Elizabetta Ix

Goemon Gaap

General Furfur

Iruma Suzuki

Assorted headcanons

Hogwarts AU! Would he enter the Triwizard Tournament?

Jazz M. Andro

NSFW headcanons

NSFW headcanons

Hogwarts AU! Would he enter the Triwizard Tournament?

Kamui Caim

Kerori Crocell

Lied Shax

Sabro Sabnock

NSFW headcanons

Hogwarts AU! Would he enter the Triwizard Tournament?

[mayoiayasep]

and if i speak.

[celest-writes]

Survivors Guilt - A Supernatural Fic: Ch 8

If you would like to read the previous chapters, here are the links!: Prologue, Ch-1, Ch-2, Ch-3, Ch-4, Ch-5 , Ch-6 and Ch-7.

Now, onto Chapter 8!

『••✎••』『••✎••』『••✎••』『••✎••』『••✎••』『••✎••』『••✎••』『••✎••』

Chapter 8

Sam’s eyes widen as his cold blood runs colder, he hesitates before running down the stairs to try and find Dean. But it was too late, he had already left.

Tears fill in my eyes. This- this can’t be happening.. No! I have to stop Dean from being his dumbass self! But how?!

Sam’s eyes widen as he runs up the stairs and into the room Castiel was in, he slams his fist into the wall making the lights flicker.

Cas looked around before sighing and sitting down, he had a feeling he knew what the cause was. Cas closes his eyes and sighs.

『••✎••』

Cas huffs as he enters the astral plane and as he turns he sees tears streaming down Sam's face.

“Sam? What’s wrong?” Cas questions.

Sam eyes bore into Castiels as he speaks, “It’s Dean! I don’t know what he's gonna do or when he’s gonna do it but he’s in trouble! Please.. Stop my stupid brother.”

Castiel nods, seeming to already understand. “A demon had spoken with him in the forest. It seemed.. Off.”

Sam's heart sinks to the bottom of his chest at Castiel's statement.

“Yellow eyes?” Sam responded nervously.

“I think so, why?” Castiel raises a brow.

Sam scoffs softly, “That’s the damn demon that killed me and my parents..”

Castiel shakes his head slowly as Sam nods in return.

“Thank you, Sam, I mean it.” Castiel’s words are soft.

Sam nods gently as he takes his hand away from the wall and leaves the room. Castiel sighs and closes his eyes once again, returning back into the normal plane of existence.

『••✎••』

Cas sighs as he stands up and makes his way downstairs to Bobby and Ellen.

“You okay Cas?” Bobby raises a brow as he looks at him.

“We need to go. Now.” Cas states blankly.

“What? Why? Where's the fire?” Ellen chuckles as she questions him.

“It’s Dean, he’s in danger. He’s going to make a deal with a demon.” Cas’ words are sharp.

Bobby and Ellen's eyes widen before they slam their drinks down. Bobby speeds past Cas to grab his bag while Ellen runs off to get Jo and Ash. They all knew how stubborn and irrational Dean was but.. They never predicted this.