#fallen-gabrielle writes

[fallen-gabrielle]

Secrets and Lies, Chapter 11

Here's my 11th chapter of Secrets and Lies! For some reason, the link to AO3 seems to not work on Tumblr, so yeah, it sucks. It's there tho so if you prefer this website, you can still go there! This chapter is much shorter than the previous ones but that's okay, I didn't want this part to be included in the next one because there's going to be a lot of emotions.

[quadrantadvisor]

Moulting, Good Omens, Falling!Aziraphale au, 2831 words

-

Aziraphale sipped at his chardonnay (not vintage, nothing special, just something he’d picked up to share with company) and sighed contentedly. It’d been a lovely day. Not inasmuch as that the weather had been nice, but rather in that he’d met up with Crowley at St. James’s Park that morning, underneath the gloomy, overcast sky, and then they’d spent the day together. A walk until the rain started coming down, lunch in a new restaurant owned by a pleasant Korean couple, and a trip to the cinema at Crowley’s insistence. Then, finally, to the bookshop to drink and chat. It was getting late, now, and the sky was dark with heavy clouds.

“So you didn’t like it? Not even the actors?” Crowley asked, a note of complaint in his voice.

Aziraphale resisted the urge to roll his eyes, because it was a terrible habit really, and suited Crowley much better. “That isn’t what I said, I’m just not sure that I understood the point of it all. They all seem rather manic, running around as they do, don’t they?” He took a sharp breath, and tried to work his shoulders back and forth discreetly.

Crowley gestured towards Aziraphale with his wine glass, nearly spilling, but of course the liquid knew better than to slosh out. “In about 50 years you’ll get used to them, and then they’ll invent some kind of immersive hologram technology, and you’ll be saying what a shame it is that no one appreciates films anymore because they were true artistry.” Crowley was looking at him, then, and frowned. “Are you feeling alright?”

Aziraphale gave his best smile. “Oh yes, of course, tip top shape!” Aziraphale knew that he was no good at coming up with excuses on the spot, so he’d prepared one earlier. “I tried out that sleeping thing again, but all it seems to have done is bother my back. These corporeal forms really are much too sensitive.”

“Mm, right,” Crowley said, and Aziraphale couldn’t tell if he was buying it or not. There was certainly no reason for him not to buy it. Aziraphale was too tipsy for this, and Crowley was still wearing his blasted shades. Crowley pulled out his mobile phone, glanced at it. “Speaking of, I ought to be off.” He downed his drink and grabbed for the jacket he’d slung over his chair.

“I thought that there was no rest for the wicked?” Aziraphale tried, smiling weakly.

He was rewarded by Crowley giving him a sly look and saying, “Surely you’ve heard of beauty sleep.”

Aziraphale chuckled at him, and stood at the same time Crowley did, to walk him to the door. Only polite. “Don’t forget to sober up before you drive,” he chided. “It’s dangerous.”

“I know, I know.”

The rain was coming down heavily, the sound near overwhelming once the front door was open. Aziraphale thought that Crowley met his gaze for a moment, but the lights were too dim to tell. “See you later, Angel.” He stepped out into the wet, immediately drenched.

“Yes. Later.” Aziraphale kept watching him, saw him shake himself free of both the alcohol in his system and the rain, which began to sheet away from his artfully tousled hair. He got into the bentley, drove off into the dark.

Aziraphale closed the door gently, muting the downpour. He stood for a moment, breathing.

Well. Best to get it over with all at once.

Aziraphale rolled his shoulders back and gently, gently, pulled out his wings. He stretched them to their full length. Then he shook them.

Pain lanced through him, like hot irons applied to exposed nerves, and he gasped. Blackened, singed feathers fell straight down, rather than fluttering, and made soft plink-ing noises as they hit the floor. Like huge, dark raindrops. As they built up around him their smell began to waft up, and Aziraphale nearly choked on it. Sulfur and burned hair and acrid smoke. There were so many this time, must be a few dozen at least.

Good. Aziraphale wished that there was a way to speed this whole process up.

There was, of course, but he didn’t know how to implement it without coming off strange. It wouldn’t do to crowd the dear boy; Crowley needed his space, certainly, and Aziraphale would never want to intrude where he wasn’t welcome. When Crowley wanted to see him, he would seek him out, and Aziraphale would have to continue relying on that.

He’d just left, and Aziraphale already missed him. How silly. His wings seemed to be clear, and Aziraphale let them droop, near touching the floor themselves. He swiped at the tears building up in his eyes. How pathetic. An angel, making such a fuss over a few feathers. It was good that Crowley was gone. Aziraphale wouldn’t want him to see him like this. No point in feeling sorry for himself. No point in feeling lonely. Aziraphale had already made his choices, and now he would see them through.

Just one more moment. Just a few more deep, ragged breaths.

Aziraphale went to find his dustpan. Couldn’t leave the ghastly things lying about, where anyone could see them. That wouldn’t do at all.

-

It had all started some months after dear young Adam had kindly stalled Armageddon, nearly a full year. Aziraphale had been in the middle of sorting inventory (read as: doing some light reading) when the phone rang. Aziraphale jumped to answer it, because odds were that the only person calling would be Crowley. Aziraphale had put the shop's phone number up on its website, naturally, it was the done thing, but that didn't mean that anyone else had access to it. Said website was nigh unsearchable, and completely innavigable for anyone who did find themselves there (could Aziraphale be blamed for having trouble with all this newfangled technology? The fact that it was the perfect cover to keep his bookshop out of the public eye was just a bonus.)

Aziraphale picked up the phone with a bright, "Hello!" wondering what plans Crowley might have for the day.

"Ah, Aziraphale," said a familiar voice. Charming and confident, affable in a way that was distant, above it all. "I see that this human contraption works, after all."

"Gabriel?" Aziraphale was frozen in shock. He had seen neither form nor feather of another angel since they'd dragged Crowley off to heaven in his body. He'd been quite hoping that they'd all forgotten about him after the hellfire incident. And in any case, heaven never communicated through indirect channels. For his entire time being stationed on Earth, Aziraphale had always sent and received paperwork through heavenly messengers, and if his supervisors wanted to check up on him, they did it personally.

"Yes, Archangel Gabriel, that is my name."

Evidently, no more was forthcoming, and Aziraphale adjusted his grip on the telephone. As his corporation came back into feeling, he realized that he was shaking. "What is the meaning of this"? Aziraphale asked, trying for all the world to harden his tone, but knowing he came off as weak and soft as he ever had. "I thought we had an agreement that I would be left alone."

"Yes, Aziraphale, exactly right. None of us will interfere with you. As things are now, heaven won't touch you." Gabriel's strangely chipper cadence gained a new edge to it. "And isn't that a pickle? An angel, with no connection to heaven."

Again, Aziraphale waited for him to elaborate, but apparently Gabriel was determined to draw this out. "I'm afraid I don't catch your meaning," he admitted.

It seemed that that acknowledgment was all Gabriel wanted. "Well, we've been discussing your"—Aziraphale could hear the sneer in his voice—"situation, and found ourselves pretty confused, all things considered! You have obviously been corrupted, deeply, deeply corrupted, and yet," this time it's confusion that Aziraphale hears, the utter bafflement of it almost… innocent. "You haven't Fallen."

"Ah." Aziraphale swallows. "I suppose I haven't."

Gabriel was back to cocksure, the innocence purged. "So, like I said, we were talking about it, and the only thing that makes sense is that you've been affected by an overabundance of demonic influence. And no wonder!" His laugh grated Aziraphale's ear. "You've been stationed down there for what, 6,000 years, give or take a few decades? Not that we had any way of knowing, of course, that your adversary had successfully tempted you into some sort of arrangement, or we would've pulled you millenia ago for some recuperation."

They were trying to blame Crowley. Of course they would. "Now, Gabriel, I—"

The archangel interrupted him. "Don't you see what this means, Aziraphale?" he asked, as sunny as ever. For a moment, it seemed as if he was waiting for a response again, but maybe it was just a dramatic pause. "It means there's still hope!"

"Hope?" Aziraphale was a great proponent of hope, generally, but the word felt like ash in his mouth. "Hope for what, exactly?"

Gabriel, with exaggerated patience, explained, "Hope that you might return to the fold. Return to the Host, Aziraphale. Like I said, you've been gone for too long. Michael wasn't a fan of the idea, but I'm fairly certain that if you spend a few thousand years in quiet contemplation, bathing in heavenly light, you'll be able to purge yourself of all of that, ugh, unpleasantness."

Fear's grip on Aziraphale had tightened, and it felt like it was constricting the muscle in his chest. "You can't take me, you can't, we had a deal—"

"Calm down, of course not," Gabriel said, amused. "We won't do anything against your will. Aren't you the one who always said that it means more if they choose, on their own, whether to be saved or damned? So," the silence on the line stretched for only a moment, and then, "I'm offering you a choice."

"What does that entail?" Aziraphale felt cold now.

"Well, it was difficult to set up, I'll tell you that much. We don't normally do this manually, but we found some old files on the process. I guess you could call it a bit drastic, but, drastic times, and all that."

"Spit it out, Gabriel." Aziraphale wasn't quite sure where that came from. He was no longer feeling like a present part of the conversation.

Gabriel let out a short, aggravated hum. "Alright, here it is. Heaven's ultimatum for the Principality Aziraphale. You've allowed your angelic essence to be tainted by associating with the demon, Crowley. We are offering a chance for you to return, willingly, of course, and purify your essence. However," he says, and he wields the condition like a knife, "should you reject Heaven's forgiveness and generosity, and continue perversely consorting with our enemy, we will have to," Gabriel hummed again, but this one was pleased, self-righteous, "cut you off, so to speak."

"You mean—"

"Yes, Aziraphale. There aren't bad angels. It's antithetical to what we are. We found the files on the manual process, and we'll do it, to keep the Host pure. You'll be damned."

Aziraphale closed his eyes. Breathed in. Breathed out. "You're saying that I must choose between Heaven and Crowley, under the threat of Falling."

"Yes." And wasn't Gabriel proud of himself, for his clever solution to their little problem. Neatly smudge away the black spot on his record in one move. Checkmate, no options for escape.

Aziraphale, finally, felt calm. "Ah. Well. I choose him."

"What?"

Annoyance crept into his voice. "I choose him, Gabriel. I thought that should be rather obvious. I chose him, and the Earth, over you and your organization already. Remember that? It was rather a big to-do. Does Armageddon ring any bells?"

Gabriel's tone was pricked with discomfort, but firm. "My threats are not idle, Aziraphale. Every moment you spend with him will draw you further from the Almighty's Grace. The contract has been drawn up and sealed. You will not be allowed to continue in this manner."

"And yet, I plan on doing exactly that. If there isn't anything else, I'll be going now."

A few flustered noises, the likes of which Aziraphale had never imagined an archangel making, came over the phone line. Then Gabriel seethed, "Fine. Enjoy your Fall from Grace, freak." The call ended.

Gabriel had never expected Aziraphale to even consider option two, that was obvious enough. It was merely coercion, to get Aziraphale to do what they wanted, which was to sit down, shut up, and become the perfect little soldier that would go along with it the next time they tried ending the world in glorious battle. Bugger that. Aziraphale was his own ethereal being, and he would make his own decisions.

Well. Not "ethereal" for much longer, it didn't seem. Aziraphale refused to let himself be afraid, and so he wasn't. He wasn't.

And there wasn't any reason to be. Everything was perfectly fine. A couple of days later, Crowley really did call, and even if Aziraphale could hardly bring himself to pick up the phone, he made it before it rang out. Crowley had tickets to an outdoors theatre, and oh, wouldn't that be lovely? The evenings were just getting warm enough, the sun lingering in the sky, and they'd sit or stand and watch a performance like they had so many times before. Aziraphale agreed readily, and Crowley said he'd pick him up at 6:30.

The first one had shocked him, it really did. He'd yelped aloud in the middle of a soliloquy, and gotten dirty looks from the audience around them. Aziraphale barely noticed, because his wing, his wing, something had happened to it, and the sharp pinprick pain of a burn was giving way to an ache, deep in the bone, traveling all the way up to his back, a celestial insistence that something was wrong, wrong, so very wrong.

"Angel, what's happened? Are you alright?" Crowley was saying quietly, urgently. He was leaning in towards Aziraphale, who was having to fight against the sudden, foolish impulse to take his hand and let the contact ground him. It was light enough for Aziraphale to catch his eyes darting about, scanning for possible threats. His gaze turned back to the angel. "You jumped like something bit you."

"I—" he couldn't finish the statement, didn't know how to. He tried again. "You know, I suppose something must have." Aziraphale chuckled weakly. "How odd, insects generally know better than to bother us. I suppose it just surprised me, that's all."

Aziraphale managed to excuse himself, promising to be right back. He felt Crowley's gaze on his back the entire time he made his way through the crowd.

It was difficult to find a spot with the requisite amount of privacy and space, but Aziraphale managed. He manifested his wings into physical space, and pulled the afflicted one forward to assess the damage.

He had barely touched it when the feather detached, and fell. 

Aziraphale stared at it. Leaned down, picked it up. A single feather. Among thousands. He was holding a scorched secondary. He had felt no relief when it fell, just a harsh continuation of the pain.

He noticed the ugly look of it, the way it had practically calcified rather than burning away, he noticed the smell.

Aziraphale didn't know what Falling was like. Crowley never talked about it. They'd been out of sight of the Host, when they'd undergone their transformations. There was a war, there were half as many angels in the heavens, and then there were creatures below that turned into beings that always seemed familiar but that no one could ever quite recognize.

Apparently, Falling hurt. Aziraphale knew that, at least, before. It was supposed to. It was a punishment, after all. This was the start, the first taste, and Aziraphale didn't care for it much. One feather out of thousands.

Was he the first angel to Fall, since the war? He hadn't heard of it happening to anyone else. Maybe it wasn't supposed to. Maybe God had split up her teams in the Beginning, and didn't care much what they did after that. Wouldn't that be something, all those angels scared into obedience when The Almighty wasn't even keeping score.

Best not to speculate. It was happening. It had started, and now he had to go through with it. He would go through with it, because some things were worth a bit of pain, a bit of risk.

He considered keeping the feather, but it did smell dreadful, and Crowley might notice it and there'd be no way to explain that. He'd have plenty more, later, if he wanted. He shoved the feather in a bin, and returned to the play. He couldn't very well keep his demon waiting. And, if what Gabriel had said was true, if every moment they spent together mattered, then Aziraphale was going to hoard and savor those moments with every atom of his angelic being.

[noirshitsuji]

first best thing about writing crack-taken-seriously is that when you do the angst and genuine stuff there ppl are always bait-switched into feeling it really hard. second best thing is inventing facts about things and making them tonally indistinguishable from actual real world information in the story

[wolffox-makes-art]

Chapter 1: fall

finished the start of my oc Haven's story so wanted to show it here. I'm not sure if I want to post the rest when I finish the second part. I am open to constructive criticism btw

-------------------

“They threw me in a cell…. oh God, they threw me in a cell,” Haven thought, panicking. “Are you okay?” a voice called out from the darkness, Haven laughed at that, how could anyone be okay when they’re about to be cast out of their home? “Sorry I asked. It was a stupid question,” the voice said with embarrassment in his tone. Someone strikes a match, and a lantern illuminated the room, revealing the person that had been speaking to them. They gasped, there prince Gabriel stood. Prince Gabriel pushes his mousy, blonde hair out of his face and looks at Haven.  “Oh, you look horrible,” he said, “no offence” he added quickly his rosy cheeks becoming redder. A scream from the latest fallen angel sounded outside before being drowned out by cheers from a crowd, Gabriel’s wings twitch as he pursed his lips and turned back to Haven. Haven’s heart started pounding in their chest, they had to get out of there. Their wings thrashed around slamming into the stone walls. They cried out in pain and terror. “Breathe just breathe,” prince Gabriel said, attempting to console the terrified angel. “I am now going to touch you, if you don’t want me to please tell or show me” he explained. Haven nodded too distraught to speak “, okay come closer please” he whispered. Haven steps forward. Gabriel smiled and pushed his hand through the cell bars. He strokes Haven’s cheek and suddenly all the panic Haven felt a moment ago was pushed to the back of their mind and was replaced with inspiration and creativity. “Sorry I can’t take the fear away, that’s not my domain,” he said. His bluish-grey eyes now shined a deep blue. “I think I can help it in another way though,” he dug around in his leather pouch muttering under his breath.

He pulls a lunch box out of his pouch, opens it and hands Haven a peanut butter sandwich. Realizing that they haven’t eaten in several hours Haven takes the sandwich and devours it. Prince Gabriel gives an adorable lopsided grin that seemed to light up the room, that grin fades as he notices the tight chains around Haven’s wrists and ankles “,Those chains are far too tight for anyone!” he announced, kneeling. “Prince Gabriel, please step away from the fallen they could be dangerous,” a guard said, readying his spear and glaring at Haven, “Oh hush they haven’t fallen yet and I doubt this troubled young angel could hurt me through the bars” Prince Gabriel answered back. He stands up to loosen the chains around Haven’s wrists “ thank you” Haven whispered, “ oh it’s my pleasure, It not right making someone suffer more, now tell me, dear, what’s your name?” Gabriel asked. His nose wrinkles as he smiles again.

“My name is Haven” Haven answered. Gabriel opened his mouth to say something nice but was distracted by the sudden change in the feeling of the room. From inspiration and creativity from Gabriel to a feeling of power and confidence, the air changes as a man with hair as dark as a void, tired, lifeless blue eyes that once held life but are now a shadow of what they used to be and a mole on his left cheek marching in. The guards that were keeping watch saluted, muttering a greeting. The man took no interest in them and marched straight to prince Gabriel. “Ah Gabriel there you are. The next trial is about to start, and Father wants you there,” The man said placing a hand on Gabriel’s shoulder “, Oh sorry Mickey I guess I didn’t realize the time” Gabriel replied his eyes shifting back to their usual blue grey. The man’s pale face turned red as he frowned “Call me Michael in public please” he muttered to Gabriel “and I know you don’t like these things because of the ‘L word’s’ fall but it is our responsibilities as princes to be here and you must respect that” prince Michael said sternly as he tugged at Gabriel’s sleeve gesturing to the door. “He’s not Voldemort, Micha you can say his name” Gabriel replied walking out the door. Haven giggled at that; Michael sharply turned to glare at the angel that dared laugh at him the atmosphere in the room became tense as the feeling of power radiating from the prince amplified. Michael’s face turns from anger and embarrassment to disgust as his eyes dart to the mark on Haven’s face, deciding against causing a scene, he walks out of the cell block.

“Come along fallen your trial is starting” A guard snarled to Haven opening the cell door, Haven, forgetting that they were still chained attempted to escape, and trips over the chains and falls flat on their face, the guard snickers “Nice try fallen” he sneered grabbing the back of their shirt and dragging them towards the door. Haven winces from the sudden change from dark and quiet to bright and loud as they’re dragged out to the huge stadium full of angels, they scan the crowd for their family as they’re dragged to the bloodstained metal platform in the middle of the stadium where the ceremony shall begin. They spot their mother and twin sister, Annabelle at the seats closest to the platform, Annabelle was telling jokes to her mom in an attempt to lighten the mood but even she couldn’t stop the tears that were threatening to fall, she buries her face into her mother’s shirt and sobs. Haven forced themselves to look away from the sight and to face the person who will do the ceremony.

Haven’s heart dropped as they stared into the dark blue eyes of their older brother, it was hard to tell if the hatred in his eyes was genuine or a mask “Percy…” Haven began to whisper “Hush, fallen” Percy spat, his voice cracking as he pulled Haven to the middle of the platform. Percy raised his sword; Prince Gabriel puts his headphones on and turns away from the scene and Haven screeches and thrashes in their chains. The sword goes down and the crowd gasps as Haven breaks free of their chains and moves out of the way, the sword tearing the tip of one of their primary feathers. Haven freezes for a moment before realizing they’re free, they take flight, avoiding the several Powers angels that sprung to action when the chains broke. Prince Michael and Percy stared at Haven with pure rage, before grabbing their spears and following Haven. Haven suddenly got an idea; they circled the stadium looking for prince Phanuel who held the spell book that opens the portal to hell and the mortal realm. They see him standing at his podium, horrified, and clutching his spell book, Haven swoops down and wrenches it out of his hands, the prince screeches, trips over his tail and falls to the ground.

“Ego praecipio mihi portas terrae aperire!” Haven screams reading the spell to open the portal to the mortal realm. They take one last glance at their home before flying through the portal, a spear goes pierces their left wing, they hiss in pain as the blessed tips burned through the feathery skin, they try to stay in the air before 2 more spears pierce their right wing eating away at the feathers and skin like holy acid. They crash to the ground and slam into a tree, breathing heavily they sit up, wondering if they were followed, they suddenly burst out laughing, from the absurdity of the situation and the fact that if they stop, they might start sobbing. “God dammit, I really screwed up now,” they said still laughing “ A few days ago I was training to be a guardian angel with my twin sister and now I’m in the mortal realm after making a deal with the devil and stealing from a prince”. They started laughing even harder remembering the surprised and angry face of prince Phanuel after he tripped over his tail, that laughter came to an abrupt end when a holy spear zips past Haven’s face, grazing the skin. Black spots danced across their left eye as the burn from the spear spread. They hissed in pain and struggled to get up, they decided against grabbing the spell book and ran for their life.

Percy tries to run after them but is stopped by prince Michael “Leave them, I doubt they’ll get far with injuries like that”, “and if they do?” Percy asked looking back at the prince.

 “Then the wrath of Heaven and the Morningstar shall be upon them.”

[lady-phasma]

I felt compelled to cite my sources for Armand and Lestat being an item off and on over the years. I’ve been in this fandom too long to get involved in ship wars or to really have an OTP for these crazy-ass vampires. I happen to love Armand and Lestat from the books and think that Assad and Sam make it work so well on screen. I hope we get loads more of them for season 3.

Anne wrote all of her characters as deeply flawed, we can all agree on that, but the nearly fanfiction level of “let’s see what happens when two of my most flawed characters get together” writing she did in TVA is brilliant. Book spoilers below.

Here's a link to a post I made about Lestat's perspective of Armand from TVL. (I have included one quote from TVL below because it's too precious to exclude.)

Lestat spends almost a full page describing how he sees Armand at a ball at the Palais Royal:

Yet never had Nicolas, mortal or immortal, been so alluring. Never had Gabrielle held me so in thrall. Dear God, this is love. This is desire. And all my past amours have been but the shadow of this. - The Vampire Lestat, p. 275

They literally feel the same about each other: instant attraction, love, desire, and so on. And it is powerful.

So powerful that hundreds of years later (in one of my favorite passages from any of her books) Armand is the only person allowed to approach an unconscious Lestat. Not only approach him, but allowed to lay down next to him and cuddle, caress, and console Lestat, to cry onto him.

I looked down on Lestat, who was unchanged, his hair fallen as before, a little over his left eye. His right arm was out, and his fingers curling upwards, and there came from him not the slightest movement, not even a breath from his lungs or a sigh from his pores. I knelt down beside him again. I reached out, and without flinching or hesitating, I brushed his hair back from his face. I could feel the shock in the room. I heard the sighs, the gasps from the others. But Lestat himself didn't stir. Slowly, I brushed his hair more tenderly, and I saw to my own mute shock one of my tears fall right onto his face. It was red yet watery and transparent and it appeared to vanish as it moved down the curve of his cheekbone and into the natural hollow below. I slipped down closer, turning on my side, facing him, my hand still on his hair. I stretched my legs out behind me, and alongside of him, and I lay there, letting my face rest right on his outstretched arm. Again there came the shocked gasps and sighs, and I tried to keep my heart absolutely pure of pride and pure of anything but love. It was not differentiated or defined, this love, but only love, the love I could feel perhaps for one I killed or one I succored, or one whom I passed in the street, or for one whom I knew and valued as much as him. - The Vampire Armand, pp. 368-369 (emphasis is mine)

But the contrasting absolute annoyance Armand has for Lestat is hilarious! He loves him but can barely stand him sometimes (that isn't unusual for Lestat's admirers).

Lestat, not a bad friend to have, and one for whom I would lay down my immortal life, one for whose love and companionship I have ofttimes begged, one whom I find maddening and fascinating and intolerably annoying, one without whom I cannot exist. The Vampire Armand, p. 276

But it's the way he describes things that happen to him that maddens me, the way that he connects one incident to another as though all these random and grisly occurrences were in fact links in some significant chain. They are not. They are capers. And he knows it. But he must make a gutter theatrical out of stubbing his toe. The James Bond of the Vampires, the Sam Spade of his own pages. - The Vampire Armand, p. 288 (emphasis mine)

Though Armand's head on Lestat's arm might be the most beautiful image of the two of them from any of the books, this line gives me chills every time:

"Lestat, my Lestat - for he was never theirs, was he? - my Lestat was crazed and railing as the result of his awful saga […]" - The Vampire Armand, p. 320 (emphasis mine)

Yes, your Lestat.

[reverseexorcist]

★ 𝐅𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐝 ★

"If it's alright could I request Carmilla Carmine x a fem reader who's a fallen angel? Like maybe they met during extermination and got their wings ripped off for not wanting to kill Carmilla's kids or they were already in hell with Carmilla for some time before the extermination? If you don't want to do this that's totally fine, and sorry if this isn't how to request stuff :)."

Honestly, with how this ended, I'm really tempted to write a much fluffier part 2 to this

Part 2 ↫ Right here

➲ 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚 Carmine + !Fallen Angel!Reader

➲ Romantic ☐, Platonic ☒

➲ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 Count; 3,462 Words

➲ Warnings/notes; Female reader, descriptions of gore/blood, canonical Lute slander (sorry Lute), romantic or platonic wasn't requested so I went with platonic to fit the story more (if the requester wants romantic just feel free to ask me), mother mode Carmilla (she might be a bit ooc because of this),

Oh wow.

Oh wow were you shaking.

You couldn't tell if it was from the excitement or the nerves - Probably both if you were being honest with yourself, but you couldn't shake off the vibrating feeling tingling beneath your skin that made you want to fly laps around heaven. Your stomach was doing flips, but you led mask only reflected your nearly psychopathic grin and twitching eye.

Even after your lieutenant Lute shot you a stern look, no doubt pissed off because you couldn't sit still for five goddamn seconds, you still couldn't resist fidgeting with your spear. It was sparkly, and somewhat heavy, and a murderous weapon that was entirely yours! It was also cold, freezing almost. Even against your gloves it made your palms feel numb and seemed to shine in sync with your own valiant excitement.

Baby's first extermination, basically. While the name certainly sounded scary, you'd been waiting for this day for six months (you and the other forty-five cadets in your platoon) and you were ready to do your best! Sure, you were still technically a rookie, hanging around the flock and bringing up the rear of the exorcists, but this was how you proved yourself to rise the ranks, right?

Your heart stopped beating in your chest when you finally reached the front. Holy shit, that was the high seraphim! Sera, right? Oh wow, she really was much much taller in person, towering above the clustering sea of black and white murderous intent. Her outward vibe was motherly and caring, but you could see the glint of distain, guilt and regret sparking in the deepest depths of her eyes. Which was confusing, because you were doing a good thing, right? Ridding the divine planes of sinners irredeemable souls.

The thoughts crowded your mind - Evil, twisted monsters crawling around like bugs in the brimstone crowded crevices of hell. You could only imagine the satisfaction of killing your first hell spawn.

It would have to be cool no doubt. Something big with lots of teeth and claws and that could breathe fire! You had to come home with a cool story to brag about. You'd heard the tales from all your superiors. From everyone including the first man Adam himself, your respectably awesome (if a little terrifying) lieutenant Lute, to the other lieutenants like Michael and Gabriel. You'd have to off a demon built like a mountain to get their attention.

And by the big man himself, you were going to do it. Even if it took you a hundred years, you could already see yourself commanding a group just like yours, bearing a helmet with horns big and curved and bold, black stripes stippled along your ivory wings.

With a very particular pep in your step, you saluted the high seraphim Sera respectively, head cocked up just so you could regard her kindly warmth in fullness. Her smile didn't reach her eyes, and although she swiftly sent you on your way with the rest of your platoon, you couldn't help but let your nerves sway your resolve ever so slightly.

It didn't matter though! You unfurled your wings with perhaps a bit too much of a dramatic flair, but with your spear in hand and helm polished so it shined with malevolent glory, you kicked off without a second thought, tailing right behind where you were supposed to be.

Your first impression of hell was the heat.

With the extermination already well under way, raging fires were already burning up half of the city sending whorls of smog up into the air. You easily battered it away with a few strong flaps of your wings. With your head on the swivel, your eagle-eyes peered around the desolate land for the forms of the sinners struggling to thrive below, silhouettes hidden by the thick layer of smoke and ash blanketing the landscape.

Lieutenant Lute furled out her wings below you, a screeching war cry echoing throughout the battlefield as she all but left your rookie platoon in the metaphorical dust. The sound itself only spurred you on, itching for the blood of a demon on the blade of your angelic spear. Without a second thought, you tucked your wings to you sides and dived below, headfirst into the fray.

Billowing flames licked past you harmlessly, though they burned like hell (which seemed rather apt, considering where you). You didn't falter, flying through the embers like a goddamn phoenix ready to cleanse the realm sprawled out beneath you. The solid wingbeats of two of your fellow cadets only strengthened your resolution, a holy fire burning in your soul - An itch to clear the filth of devil scum away. This was the chaotic strength that your captain had sought to build in you, and now you were finally able to act on it.

But everywhere you looked, you only found simple, humanoid souls running and screaming in terror. Eyes wide, half-dead or bloodied beyond belief as they scrambled to find shelter from the onslaught of exorcists like yourself. Nowhere could you see the mangled forms of the demons you'd been taught to slaughter. Descriptions from your seniors before you passed through your mind - 'gleaming eyes with with wrath and lust', 'gangly limbs twisted to an unholy form', 'mouths filled with rows of sharp teeth, and claws like knives'.

You faltered, confused. The words of Lute rang out in your mind.

"Of course, it's not like they can actually hurt you. You're all warriors, the toughest, just use your spears to stab the shit out of them!"

You were alone now. You couldn't hear the comforting sounds of your fellow rookies behind you anymore. They were well in front of you now, peering around with a similar confusion to yours. But to your absolute horror, they simply shrugged their shoulders and dived forward with bloodlust evident in their glowing white masks. Silver points of spears were jammed through the heads of the terrified demons below. But were they demons? They didn't look like them at all. Every single book you'd seen depicting demons drew them as eldritch monsters with too many eyes to count, tentacles and claws and fangs with nary but bloodlust and vile thoughts hidden within their slitted eyes.

But the demons in front of you looked just like people. You could see the way their faces contorted in terror. You could see them scrambling to help what you could only assume were friends and family, pulling them along and carrying the ones who couldn't run for themselves. You could only feel your heart fall as you watched one of your best friends land on top of a sinner already crushed by rubble, turquoise skin stained red. The begged and pleaded and cried, but their voice was silenced as the spearhead sunk into their skull.

You flinched. The world around you ignored you completely, and for once, you were completely happy to go unnoticed.

Shakily, you touched-down in a nearby street. It was littered with already oozing corpses, but other than that it was peacefully empty. At least here the sounds of violence and pain and terror was muffled, far away enough that you could at least try to distance yourself and get your breathing under control.

You barely reeled in a gag as the smell of blood invaded your senses.

Was this really what you wanted to do for the rest of your life? You could still see yourself in your mind's eye, a model exorcist like your lieutenant now leading her own platoon into another extermination. Maybe this would be a one off, just a shock to the system that would get your mind reworked into killing mode. But, the more you thought about it, the more your heart clenched in pain and terror that seemingly matched the suffering souls around you. You were an agent of heaven, you thought you were killing mindless monsters, not those with human souls! Sure, there were probably shitty people fucking around down here, but what about all those who had to sin in self defence?

A chorus of startled gasps startled you out of your panic ridden stupor. Your wings flared up, trying to make yourself look bigger, more threatening as you wheeled around. The spear in your hands looked more like a prop at this point, and it was clear that you had minimal idea how to use it inside a proper battle. But still, you fumbled with it and pointed it threateningly in the direction of the two demons that had appeared right behind you.

They clutched each other, stumbling backwards and further away from the danger of your angelic weapon. One of them placed an arm in front of the other, her eyes narrowing behind her red-tinted glasses as if she was both terrified by you, but was daring you to do something about it.

But still, you could see them shaking from where you stood. They both seemed rooted to the ground, the one with platinum blonde hair refused to take her eyes off of you, but the demon behind her (maybe her sister? A friend?) was looking around nervously.

You could see yourself reflected in those crimson specs, and for once it made you freeze. You'd seen yourself in uniform plenty of times before, the steel boots and guard gloves and the led, horned helmet, but it always seemed almost comforting before. When you were surrounded by your cohorts, it made you fit in. Out here, you realised, you were the monster.

The ever-present smile on your mask shrunk, falling into a grimace as your grip on your weapon tightened. Your wings drew in, you shrunk backwards, almost stumbling over your own feet in the process of trying your hardest to get away. You never wanted to scare people.

So drowned by your own confusion and fear and reckless thoughts of worry about the future that you didn't notice the confusion growing the faces of the demons in front of you turn into abject horror as a far more ominous silhouette grew behind you.

"I thought I taught you not to hesitate," Lute growled in your ear, placing her free hand on your shoulder and digging her fingers in till your were sure a bruise was marred into your skin. You didn't respond, couldn't even if you wanted to. The trembling that rattled you only grew stronger, and you fumbled as your hands cramped painfully. With a resounding clatter, your spear dropped from your grasp an on to the brazen brimstone floor.

Lute growled.

She didn't say anything, but she knew. The both of you knew by now. You couldn't kill a sinner.

Lute didn't even hesitate before shoving you to the ground. Your head collided with solid stone painfully even with your helmet on, stars shining behind your eyes as her words blurred together as she pressed her foot firmly between your shoulder blades. Your wings shivered and spread involuntarily, and you feared the moments that would come next. Lute was unpredictable, but this could only end with bloodshed.

The two girls still hadn't moved, transfixed in horror as they watched the scene in front of them play out.

Asphalt stung your hands and you tried to claw your way to freedom, fingertips digging into the scorched Earth as you started crying. Lute, however, was stronger than you. Of course she was, she'd been doing this for centuries, and you were still a fledging on her first trip out of heaven.

You never thought it would end like this.

Lute dug her fingers into your wings, tangling into your still downy feathers before she yanked with all her might. The scream she tore from your lips was hellish, agonising, yet the blended with the sounds of violence all around you. You were sure you blacked out several times throughout the process, but by the time your old lieutenant was done with you, barely anything but feathery stumps and golden blood remained of your wings.

You could only curl up, cry and watch as Lute tossed clumps of feathers aside as she stalked toward the two demons that still hadn't had the thought to run. And for the first time in your life, you felt sorry for the sinners that populated hell's ring of wrath.

She would make them suffer, that was for sure. If she was happy enough to tear of another angel's wings, you could only imagine what she would do to a sinner. You didn't want to imagine, and your mind was fuzzy enough that you thankfully didn't have to.

The sound of something sharp rang throughout the air. It made you groan in pain, the sound piercing your ears and making your brain rattle in your skull. Sharp - 'Tink tink tink tink tink.' If you could see the look of relief coming across the demons faces, a part of you might've urged Lute to run. Only, she had just torn your wings off with little qualm, and now you had no shits left to give if she lived or not.

The exorcist never got the chance to strike, her weapon torn from her hands and thrown across the street till it collided with a bloody body. Lute herself barely had time to react before she was struck over the head once, then twice in rapid succession. A whirlwind of white and angelic steel and pure fury launched herself in the path between the two demons and the exorcist. It was almost exhilarating to watch, seeing Lute strike out with her fists in a pathetic attempt of hand to hand combat against her new foe. Whoever they were, they were really fucking fast, almost too fast for you to keep up with.

The fight was over before it started. Without her weapon, Lute couldn't do much against the sinner she was pitted against, and as ruthless as she was, she knew when a battle was lost. In a flurry of black and white feathers, she fled. And then the newcomer's attention was shifted to you.

At this point, you would've welcomed death. The pain alone was making you drift slightly, and you didn't even have the energy left to groan when whoever nudged you slightly with something hard and cold.

"Mother.." The words were so soft, floating away from your ears.

"We need to leave." It was undoubtably her. That voice was the one who beat Lute into the ground.

"What about..?" That was the one who called out for mother.

"Won't she tattle?" So that had to be her sister.

Those words sent a dose of adrenaline through you. With as much strength as you could muster, you clawed yourself into an upwards position. You could feel the clotting blood running down your back, but if you were going to die, you at least wanted to do so with some dignity.

Shakily, with much more effort than was really desired, you reached up and peeled your helmet off.

It clattered noisily like glass against the floor, and suddenly the world was much brighter, much more red and the air was laced with more sulphur and death than you could imagine. But what really surprised you was the look of shock written across the sinner's face.

She was tall. Really tall. The only person who could really compete was Seraphim Sera or maybe Adam, but you really couldn't tell with how delirious you were.

"Una niña?" They all looked surprised.

The one called mother took a few steps forward, confusion and anger clearly present in her eyes. But, as she kneeled down in front of your comparatively tiny form, you realised the anger wasn't directed at you.

"Did she try to hurt you?" She turned back to face her daughters. They both shared a look, but ultimately shook their heads no. That right there, was your saving grace.

She looked back at you, hair pinned into high horns, and took your helmet in her large hands. She passed it off to one of her daughters, before gently scooping you into her hold.

You whined, writhing minutely in her hold as the searing phantom pain of your wings being torn off returned. Fat tears rolled down your cheeks, and yet the demoness tutted softly, shushing you like you were a baby.

Her daughters followed without a word, and you and the family unit moved swiftly through the desolate roads. So many questions were running through your mind, and yet you couldn't find the answer to any of them, your thoughts to lost to the fog of blood loss to ever truly return.

"You better not betray me," Were the last words you heard before promptly passing out.

The plushness of a soft blanket was the first thing you felt waking up. For a moment, you felt nothing but relief realising the entire thing had been a horrid nightmare, but when you tried to rustle the numbness out of your wings, the relief was replaced with horror when you realised that your wings were just straight up missing, only two feathery stumps remaining in their place.

That made you shoot up in horror. You didn't even care about the sharp sting that ran down your spine and into your very being, you were a bit too concerned about your current predicament.

"You're awake."

That made you promptly scream before ducking under the covers like you were a nestling again. A soft sigh reached your ears, but you dared not to venture out from the warmth of the thick covers.

Not like you had a choice, though, as you were soon pried away from their safety. It was her, the demoness with the high-pinned buns. She looked down on you, red eyes glowing in the low light, and yet, you couldn't sense a smidge of hatred towards you. Only distrust and sadness laced her expression.

"How old are you?" She asked after the silence had gone on long enough.

"I'm a fledgling," Is all you said. You didn't really fancy giving too much information. Although, the look of horror the crossed her face maybe suggested that you'd already given away plenty.

"Obligan a los niños a hacer esto?" She raised a hand and carded it through her snowy tresses, locks of white hair threaded loose as she paced back and forth. You only watched her, slowly sinking back into the comfort of the warm blankets.

"You're still a child." It was a statement.

You hated being a child. You didn't want to be a child, at least, you hadn't wanted to be a child in the past. You wanted to join the ranks of the exorcists, and to do that you at least needed to be juvenile. Hell, you were lucky enough to make it into the cadets while you still had baby feathers decorating your wings. But now, the fact that yes, you were still technically a kid made your saviour look upon you with more than just disdain and hatred like any other exorcist, but rather she looked upon you with an emotion that you'd never seen before, and not one you could really name.

"You are a child, and now you have fallen," She eyed your mostly healed wing stumps, and you couldn't help but reflexively flex them anxiously. The literal weight off your back made you want to cry.

"Was this your first extermination?" She gazed upon you with a guarded look. You nodded.

"And you didn't hurt my daughters?" Another nod from you. That seemed to make her relax just a tad.

"Could you ever hurt someone?" That made you pause, the memories of the extermination rushing back to you full force. Tears grew at the corners of your eyes, and still, you answered with a simple 'no'.

She exhaled a sigh of relief before closing the distance and kneeling down to your eye level.

"Carmilla Carmine." She reached a hand out toward you. So that was her name.

You clutched your hands close to your chest, fearing her touch, but gave her your name anyway.

"What are you gonna do with me?" You asked, voice cracking. Her gaze softened, finally letting her guard slip for just a moment.

"Well, you weren't going to make it out there by yourself. You'll be staying with me," The words took a moment to sink into your mind. Well, at least it was better than death.

Gently, like she was working with a scared animal, Carmilla coaxed you out from the comfort of the bed, slowly ushering you to her side. With your wings missing and their remains bandaged, head bare and missing your exorcist helmet, it felt like the safest place in the world.

"Welcome to Hell."

Rules + Info,

Masterlist,

[luxthestrange]

WHB Incorrect quotes#45 So much chaos-

Raph: FIVE AND A HALF MONTHS!

Leamas: What??

Raph: THAT'S HOW LONG YOU STOOD BY AND WATCHED ME WATER A FAKE PLANT!?

Leamas: ...Wait what?

Raph: THE PLANT'S FAKE YOU HEATHEN SPAWN OF SOLOMON AND YOU KNEW??!?

Mc*crying of laughter* Buying that plant was the best decision of my entire life~

After Solomon managed to stop the fight between you and Raphael,sending the angel back to his home for the better and sending you to the time-out corner

Leamas: Good, Thanks, Dad....

Solomon is frozen in place, along with You, Nina, and Minhyeok

Leamas*Looks at others weirdly*Why is everyone staring at me?... Mc: You just called Solomon “dad”...You just said, “Thanks, dad.” Leamas: What!?- No, I didn’t. I said, “Thanks, man” Solo*Smilling at the fallen angel and pointing at self* Do you see me as a father figure, Leamas? Leamas*Blushes and rolls eyes at him* -No! If anything I see you as a bother figure ‘cause you’re always bothering me- Nina & Minhyeok: Hey! Show your father some respect!

-Late at night-

Mc*writing in a letter*"I'm going to kick.. your...ass-Sincerely Mc"

Mc: THERE! Now send it to heaven!

Leamas: Dude, your handwriting's terrible, are you sure you want to-

Mc: JUST DO IT!

later that same night the Angel brothers received a letter

Mich: So what does it say?

Raph*Reading the letter*...They say they're going to "lick my..."

Gabriel:..

Mich:..

Gabriel: Oh-

Raph*Standing up fast that he knocks on the chair he was sitting in and speed walks to the door*-I have to go now...

Part 6 of:

[tateringss]

DIVINE ECSTASY

"You may not realize it now, but you will bring darkness upon this valley. Out of love, let him go." -- St. Gabriel Andral to Omen

When Mornmaster Sergei von Zarovich revealed the sacred tomb of the revered Saint Gabriel Andral, Omen never expected to speak with the saint himself. Nor was he prepared for the dire warnings Saint Andral would deliver — especially when the saint appeared with a face so hauntingly familiar to the priest and prince before him.

The warnings spoke of the destruction he and the others would bring upon the valley. Of the doom that would fall upon Sergei if Omen chose to remain by side. And of a fear manifest: that he will once more become an omen to the one who loves him. "How much faith do you have in your god? In your saints?" Omen asked the cleric after his mind finally returned to the present, still hazy with the ghost of a vision. "Unshakeable," Sergei answered, with all the assuredness of a man raised and remaining devout. So Omen conveyed the words of Sergei’s patron saint, struggling to find the strength to say goodbye as his heart bled with every word and the priest's worried gaze seemed to tear through his soul. Yet Sergei stood his ground, even as doubt crept into his mind — wondering why the saint had not spoken to him directly. Wondering why his god remained silent. "If I were to die, then it would be so. But for now, I want to live what we have." The priest reached out to the anguished fallen aasimar, cupping his scarred checks between his palms. "Please... Please... I love you, Vilomen. I love you." No words were uttered back. There was only a reply of a desperate, clawing cradle. A silent cry of need, a muted cry of want. And so Sergei and Vilomen embraced each other into the depths of the night. Inseparable. Tearful.

Long enough for a God to look away.

Long enough for a God to forget.

If you like the piece and writing, you can buy me a donut over at Ko-Fi :>

[couldyouimagine-that]

Saving Grace

Genre; action, hurt/comfort

Word count; 2.1k

Warnings; canon typical violence, arguing

Pairing; Lucifer (Supernatural) x Reader, Gabriel (Supernatural) x Reader

The reader and Team Free Will plus Gabriel and Lucifer are outnumbered by a legion of angels. Lucifer and Gabriel decide at the same time they need to protect the reader.

Another Lucifer and Gabriel story because I love writing the two of them. This was a really fun one!

Masterlist

-

The angels were everywhere. You were trapped in a warehouse full of them, each armed to the teeth with steel and fury. Castiel’s powers were completely gone, yet he fought on beside Sam and Dean. Your own angelic blade flashed in your hand, your movements practiced and almost automatic. But you were getting tired. This fight had been going on far too long – there shouldn’t even have been a fight to begin with. With Lucifer and Gabriel in the ring, the legions you faced should have been smoke in the air by now. You couldn’t understand how the angels trying to kill you had access to their powers, but the two archangels on your own side didn’t. From their halting looks of confusion when a snap of each of their fingers did nothing, neither did they.

That left all of you fighting hand to hand, and even with six of you, there were still too many to take on. You flung yourself around towards a torn cry of Dean’s name, seeing Castiel trying to wade through the fight towards your fallen friend. You and Sam quickly followed suit, but the angels closed rank. You couldn’t even see Dean; you had no way of knowing how badly hurt he was. Your only indication was that he didn’t get back up. Distracted in trying to lay eyes on him for just a moment, you felt a searing pain across your shoulder blade and back. The wound didn’t feel too deep, but a slash from angelic steel was excruciating. You stumbled, taking a glancing blow from your left that had your feet out from under you, and there was just enough time to see you would fall directly onto the tip of another angel blade –

The air around you fell silent and still.

Your breathing was ragged, the blood on your back soaking through your shirt. You had lost your weapon somewhere in the melee, your trembling hand instead clutching cloth. Someone gripped your other wrist, deadly silent. You forced your eyes open to see what your forehead was leaning against, almost reeling back when your mind supplied a person, a man, Lucifer. His arm encircled your waist to keep you steady and a second hand alighted on your uninjured shoulder. Lucifer was watching the space directly behind you with an unreadable expression. You turned your head as much as your rattled state would allow to find Gabriel holding your arm, staring back at his brother in exactly the same way. Gabriel broke first to look at you.

“You alright?” He asked cautiously, and you didn’t miss the way his eyes caught on your back. You swallowed harshly and tried to nod. Your grip on Lucifer’s jacket tightened and you were surprised that he let you lean against him more heavily as you tried to regain your bearings.

“What happened?” Your voice was hoarse even to your own ears.

“Fight got too much.” Lucifer sounded oddly subdued, enough so that you made the effort to straighten and see his face. His gaze was unfocused, though it snapped to you as he offered a short smile. “We decided to get out of there.”

You stepped back, finally, and cast around for your friends. You recognised the rusted hallways as one of the entrances to the main floor where you had been just moments prior, but Sam, Cas, and Dean were nowhere to be found. You thought back to what had happened just before you had been teleported out, a dark pit opening in your stomach. Movements frantic now, you located your blade and snatched it up from the grimy concrete floor.

“And what, you just left them there?”

You turned quickly between Gabriel and Lucifer, imploring either of them to prove you wrong. Of course, for once, they stayed quiet.

“Oh no, no, no-”

Injured shoulder be damned, you grit your teeth and set off at a sprint, shoving between your saviours. You knew they had just watched you go without even needing to see it. You careened round a corner and took out an unsuspecting angel standing guard, then on through a set of double doors and another corner. And this time, you skidded two a halt. Ten more angels, blades ready and moving as a singe military unit stood between you and saving your friends. You thought humourlessly that if you believed God truly cared, this would have been the moment you decided to pray. Instead, you let out a roar and charged at the one leading the way, walking slightly apart from the others. Those behind her were arranged in lines of three, shoulder to shoulder and completely blocking off the corridor.

You dispatched two quickly, but that gave the others time to circle around you. You turned to face each, trying to put on a show so they would know you weren’t afraid, that you could take them. You were, and you couldn’t. And they knew it. When three came at you simultaneously, you launched yourself towards the closest one, eyes shut as you prepared for the onslaught of agony which would inevitably lead to your death.

It never came.

You slammed your hands down over your ears at the overwhelming, high-pitched ringing which split straight through your skull. Your eyes narrowed to slits at the onslaught of piercing white light, but you were even more shocked once you could see again. The expanse of a perfect white wing curled around you, protecting you from your attackers. You traced its arch back to Lucifer, who had already killed the three angels nearest to you. You turned at a cry of pain from behind you, seeing Gabriel had just about taken care of the rest. Gabriel faced you with all the self-importance of a king.

“I just dragged your ass out of there and saved your life, and this is how you repay me, with a suicide mission?!”

“We, brother,” Lucifer corrected in a low, warning tone. His wing now seemed more like it was keeping you in place, rather than protecting you from harm. Your first instinct was to lash out at them both, but you tamped down on it. You needed to be practical and Gabriel was right – you would never get to your friends in time.

“How is it that they can use their powers, but you two can’t?” The archangels stopped their fighting before it could really get under way, each giving you an assessing look. “Cas is still cut off from heaven, right? So he can’t do anything anyway. That means they’ve done something specifically to block of the power of archangels.”  

You stepped back from Lucifer, gaze down, mind whirring. There shouldn’t have been anything powerful enough to tamp down on their abilities to start with, and you had never heard of anything that could filter out an archangel’s power but let through that of an ordinary angel. You thought through every sigil you had ever encountered, but not one of them fit. You couldn’t imagine it was a magical object, and even if this could be achieved with witchcraft, the angels wouldn’t deign to use it. That left –

“Got it! There’s warding somewhere, that’s blocking out most of your powers. It’ll be in Enochian, and there’s already so many angels here that I bet you weren’t able to sense it when we came in.” Again, they said nothing. “Come on, please – we need to find it before it’s too late!” They weren’t going to help. You were getting desperate, but pleading for their help had no effect. A scream pierced through into the corridor and you lost what little sense you had left. “You both cared enough to pull me out of there. If you care about me at all, you’ll help me find that warding!”

Gabriel looked from you to Lucifer, and some sort of silent understanding seemed to pass between them. You blinked and they were both gone, and moments later, so were the sounds of fighting from the main floor. Heart in your throat, you sprinted for the entrance. The corridor flew past, yet it seemed that your every step lasted a decade. Rusted old hinges shrieked when you shoved open the doors and burst into the warehouse, to find it almost empty.

Dean was curled over, just barely holding himself off the floor on his elbows. Castiel was on his knees in front of him, blade held forward defensively and his free hand behind him, hovering by Dean’s shoulder. Sam was still on his feet a few paces away.

“What happened?” Dean groaned roughly, trying to look around to see where the angels had gone. You swallowed when you realised that the shadows floating towards the ceiling and gathering in the corners of the room weren’t shadows at all. They were the dust that was left of the angels themselves.

Your steps echoed loudly as you ran towards your friends. You felt certain your relief was palpable, but the others were as wary as you had ever seen them.

“Where’d they go?” Dean tried again, slowly sitting himself up. Castiel looked as if he wanted nothing more in the world than to reach for the injured hunter and fold him into an embrace. The soft flap of wings signalled the return of Lucifer and Gabriel, and Sam took a few defensive steps forward in front of his brother.

“Ah, you’re welcome,” Lucifer intoned expectantly, staring directly at you. Castiel turned to him, saw the direction of his gaze, and leaned towards you immediately, voice urgent.

“Y/N, what did you do?”

“Nothing, Cas. It’s fine-” His hand landed on your shoulder, grip tight, as if trying to convince you of an imminent threat you didn’t believe was there.

“What did you agree to?”

“Nothing!” You took a deep, calming breath. “I realised there was some kind of warding around this place that was allowing all of the angels to access their powers, but not the archangels. You three were surrounded, and Gabriel and Lucifer found the warding, dismantled it, and destroyed the angels who were attacking us. That’s it.”

Dean groaned as he sat further up and Castiel’s concern became split between the two of you. He moved back a little towards Dean, supporting the hunter’s back even when he tried to wave Castiel away. He was too weak to manage.

“You’re not hurt,” Dean ground out, less of a question and more of a confirmation. You nodded, the yes quiet in the back of your throat. “Then what happened to you? Cause you disappeared and I thought one of ‘em had taken you down.”

You found yourself faltering. Lucifer, the devil himself, and Gabriel, two of the only four archangels to have ever existed, had decided simultaneously that your puny little human life was worth saving? You, the only human of untold billions to have lived throughout time that not one, but either of them had ever cared enough to save – you couldn’t even believe the words in your own mind. Dean prompted you again when you failed to answer and you still couldn’t come up with a reply. Aside from being unbelievable, you doubted Lucifer at the very least would want you to tell the Winchesters and Castiel of all beings what he had done, presumably on the spur of the moment. becoming uncomfortable in the silence with everyone’s eyes on you, you looked over to Gabriel for support, preferring your chances with getting help from him than his brother. He seemed to sigh silently.

“They almost did.” Gabriel watched you cautiously as everyone turned to him. “I was close enough to get Y/N out of the way in time.”

“And what about him?” Dean gave a disparaging tilt of his head in Lucifer’s direction.

“What, you thought I was just gonna let my little bro walk out of a fight without following?”

That wasn’t what had happened; Lucifer had been trying to save you too. But you certainly weren’t going to say anything, and it seemed that neither was Gabriel.

Dean still seemed suspicious, but there were other more important things at hand. Sam and Castiel helped him to his feet. Gabriel snapped his fingers and you all instantly appeared back at the bunker. Your head swirled from the chosen method of long-distance transportation and you pitched to the side, reaching out for the nearest available object to stop yourself from falling. When you straightened after a moment of regaining your bearings, it was to see Lucifer smiling smugly down at you. He held his forearm parallel to the ground in such a way that you were leaning on it without drawing anyone else’s attention. You apologised quietly and stepped back in time to see Gabriel staring at his brother yet again. Somehow, you felt sure that having gained the attention of them both couldn’t lead to a good end.

[theerurishipper]

Something I've noticed is that the show goes out of its way to portray Adrien's trauma as romantic.

In Kuro Neko, Adrien is exhibiting a trauma response wherein he invalidates his own feelings and tries to be whoever the other person wants him to be, and Catwalker is explicitly based on the mask Adrien puts on to please his abuser, which is also the persona Ladybug develops an instant crush on. What the show tells us, however, is that Adrien as Catwalker telling Ladybug that it's his own fault for being sensitive because he was hurt by her actions and following that up by promising to take care of her is romantic and wonderful.

In Strikeback, Adrien is once again downplaying his feelings and hurt in order to come to Ladybug's support because she needs him. He is once again invalidating his own hurt and absolving her of all blame. What the show tells us is that it's so romantic that Adrien was willing to push away his hurt feelings and come to her aid like a loyal partner even though she never apologized to him or promised to change her behavior.

In Protection, Adrien's tendency to want to be perfect for everybody and cater to their needs is depicted on screen, with him assuming the full blame for Marinette's confidence issues. He has a whole conversation with Kagami about how he needs to change himself for her. What the show tells us is that Adrien is so romantic and so sweet for essentially assuming blame for Marinette's inability to tell him her feelings and saying that he has to be the one to change and cater to her needs.

In Collusion, Adrien's reacting to his father sending him to London by saying "Marinette and I will last forever," is him clinging to the very little good that is going on in his life. It is him once again centering his identity around this girl and his relationship with her because he has never been allowed to be his own person. What the show tells us is that "Adrien loves Marinette so much uwu."

In Confrontation, Adrien writing "All I know is that I love Marinette Dupain Cheng," is him once more centering his whole life around his girlfriend because he has been conditioned into defining himself around other people because he has never been allowed to an individual in his own right. What the show tells us again is that Adrien loves Marinette so, so much, you guyz.

In Conformation (credit to this post by @youremarvelous), Adrien telling Plagg he's angry at himself for falling short of Marinette's love is also him downplaying his own feelings and placing more importance on her, and him believing that he has fallen short of her love stems from him belief that he has to earn love. He's just shifted from defining himself based on Gabriel's wishes to defining himself based on Marinette's wishes. What the show tells us is that Adrien is such a good boyfriend for wanting to be perfect for Marinette.

The discrepancy between what has been portrayed and what the show wants us to think is concerning, to say the least.

[loversgothic]

The Unicorn Runs From The Garden

based on the unicorn tapestries.

i love @muzzleroars' Fallen Gabriel a lot and wanted to make a piece with him (their writing and art of him is absolutely fantastic)

[fallen-gabrielle]

Secrets and Lies, Chapter 10

It's finally here!! Sorry it took this long, but many things IRL still are getting in the way. In this chapter you'll see the last speaking appearence of my self insert OC, Numbuh 91,12! She will appear one last time later but won't have a speaking role.

[suspiciouscharacter1895]

I have something that has been banging around in my head related to Crowley’s apparent loss of memory. This is probably not original but I haven’t seen it articulated quite this way so I’m just going to write it out. Crowley has a few interactions with Gabriel where he is trying to remember things that Heaven “erased”. On one occasion Gabriel says - “I can’t” and Crowley says “Yes you can” with certainty. Another time, Gabriel says “It hurts” and Crowley says, “I know, do it anyway.” I have THINGS TO SAY about this below the cut.

I think we can take it as given that Crowley has had his memory erased by Heaven, as evidenced by him not remembering Furfur or Saraqael or why they decided to have gravity. If it was one thing, I would buy it as a throwaway but the lack of memory is so specifically and repeatedly called out that I don’t think we can take it as a coincidence.

It’s equally clear to me that he hasn’t forgotten EVERYTHING about his time as an angel. He remembers that he worked on a specific nebula in S1, he remembers going into battle, he knows that if he gets into Heaven he’ll be able to access top secret files. And you cannot convince me that he doesn’t remember Aziraphale in Eden. Aziraphale doesn’t know his *demon* name, so Crowley introduces himself, but Aziraphale never does the same because Crowley already knows who he is.

SO I have made the mental leap to conclude the following - Crowley had his memory wiped by Heaven when he fell, he remembered nothing just like Gabriel, and he FORCED himself to remember some parts of his time in Heaven. Meaning, he tried hard to remember, it *hurt* and he *did it anyway*. I like to imagine that he did so because he wanted to know who he was (which of course is reason enough) but also because he wanted very much to remember a friendship with a certain Principality.

When Gabriel had his memory wiped, he still knew he needed to get to Beelzebub. I believe that when Crowley had his memory wiped, he still knew he needed to get to Aziraphale. So he went through a lot of pain to claw back some of his memory. He didn’t get everything back, but he got something. We know Heaven didn’t wipe the memories of all the Fallen, so Crowley’s memory was probably erased (or I would argue ‘suppressed’ is more accurate because the memory is still there, he just can’t access it readily) because he was high ranking, but also because he *knew or saw something specific and significant*.

Upshot is, I now desperately need a fic that features Crowley fighting to remember himself. Does this exist?? Do I need to write it?? Anybody else have this train of thought?

[nisbanisba]

WIP wednesday

Nothing from chapter 2 is ready for sharing yet, but here's another snippet of chapter one of my teen AU Stone Cold Will You Miss Me, which is up on AO3!

He’s drifting again when the calloused hand returns to his cheek, another hand jostling his shoulder. Why can’t his dad just let him sleep? “Come on, Carlitos, open up, I need to get your temperature.” Carlos groans but lets his dad slip the thermometer into his mouth, the cold metal of the mouthpiece jabbing the underside of his tongue. Gabriel pulls it back out a moment later at the piercing beep that makes Carlos wince in pain. “Jesus Christ, mijo.” Carlos’s mom doesn’t like when Gabriel takes the lord’s name in vain this way, so he only does it when he’s very angry.

“What’d I do?” Carlos moans. His head’s a mess, he can’t remember. He’d gotten a C+ on a trig test the other day. He’d tracked in mud after football practice and forgotten to clean it up. He’d fallen in love with a boy. Does Gabriel know? His breathing quickens at the thought, and his eyes fill with panicked tears.

No-pressure tags under cut!

Thanks for the tags @ladytessa74 @lemonlyman-dotcom @heartstringsduet @carlossreaders @paperstorm

I tag:

@rmd-writes @thisbuildinghasfeelings @bonheur-cafe @liminalmemories21 @strandnreyes

@everlastingday

@reyesstrand @sunshineacd @theghostofashton @emsprovisions

@carlos-in-glasses @corsage

@butchreyes @decafdino @never-blooms

@sugdenlovesdingle @freneticfloetry @eclectic-sassycoweyes @herefortarlos

@alrightbuckaroo @tellmegoodbye @chicgeekgirl89 @lightningboltreader @captain-gillian

@nancys-braids @pimento-playing-hopscotch @goodways @literateowl @carlos-tk @welcometololaland @henrygrass + open tag!!

[wolffox-makes-art]

I found my old USB drive which contained a word document for Haven's backstory from 2021 so i decided to rewrite it cus it was cringy and outdated

Here is all i have right now:

Chapter 1 rewrite

They threw me in a cell…. oh God, they threw me in a cell, “are you okay?” a voice called out from the

darkness, I laughed at that, how could anyone be okay when they’re about to be cast out of their home?

“Sorry I asked I realize now it was a stupid question” a match was struck, and a lantern lit up the room,

revealing the person that had been speaking to me. I gasped, prince Gabriel. “oh you look horrible” he

said “no offence” he added quickly his rosy cheeks becoming redder. A scream from the latest fallen

angel sounded outside before being drowned out by cheers from a crowd, I lost it there, my mouth felt

dry, a choked sob escaped my throat, my wings rose up smacking into the hard stone walls, I cried out in

pain “Breathe just breathe” prince Gabriel said trying to comfort me, “ I am now going to touch you if

you don’t want me to please tell or show me” he explained. I shook my head unable to speak “okay one

second I have something to help” he dug around in his leather pouch muttering under his breath. He

pulls a lunch box out of his pouch, opens it and hands me a peanut butter sandwich, I devour it suddenly

hungry. Prince Gabriel smiles his nose wrinkling as he gives me a lopsided grin, that grin fades as he

notices the tight chains around my wrists and ankles “ Those chains are far too tight for anyone!” he

announced kneeling down. “Prince Gabriel, please step away from the fallen they could be dangerous” a

guard said readying their spear, “Oh hush they haven’t fallen yet and I doubt this troubled young angel

could hurt me through the bars” Prince Gabriel answered back, standing up to loosen the chains around

my wrists “ thank you” I whispered “ oh it’s my pleasure, It not right making someone suffer more, now

tell me, dear what’s your name?” Gabriel asked smiling again.

“My name is Haven” I answered. Gabriel opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by someone

walking in before a sound came out “ Ah Gabriel there you are, The next trial is about to start and Father

wants you there” My brother’s boss and the Prince of heaven, Michael said placing a hand on Gabriel’s

shoulder “Oh sorry Mickey I guess I didn’t realize the time” Gabriel replied. Michael’s face flushed as he

frowned “Don’t call me Mikey and I know you don’t like these things because of the ‘L word’s’ fall but it

is our responsibilities as princes to be here and you must respect that” Michael said sternly as he tugged

at Gabriel’s sleeve gesturing to the door. “ he’s not Voldemort, Micha you can say his name” Gabriel

replied walking out the door. Unable to control myself I burst out laughing, Michael glares at me his face

red with rage and embarrassment, his eyes dart to the mark of the so called ‘ L word’ on my face and his

expression turns to disgust as he walks out of the cell block.

-----

The "L word" is Lucifer

Luci is basically like Bruno to the archangels we don't talk about him.

Please excuse the weird spaces in the middle of sentences I have no fucking clue why it's doing this and it's only Tumblr doing it and it won't let me fix it. Also, criticism is wanted.

[furicookiebndz]

Lucifer x !FemReader : My old friend

Hello everyone, it is my first time writing this, i hope it will be good enough, have fun! This fan art isn't mine. Full credits to the amazingly talented artist/creator.

It has been thousands of years since evil began.

Lucifer, whose pride blinded him, attempted to dethrone the creator, only to ultimately fail and be banished from Paradise.

Lilith, who refused to submit to Adam, in turn fled from this magical place, but which hides many facades.

Yet few people know that with them, a third person flew out of Paradise. And even rarer are people who know the cause, 3 to be precise.

However, behind this unusual act lie very dark secrets, seen as…

-Can you stop, Vag'? You're giving me a headache.

The young woman turned her head towards the source of this execrable voice, a spider who was visibly lying carefree on the sofa, arms behind her head, a bored expression on her face.

Refraining from answering him, she continued:

Tragic, some thought it was another rebellious woman, others a fallen angel because of a serious crime, but that wasn't logical, what's worse than to confront the creator?"

-That doesn't help all of us, the young woman noted, running her hand through her hair, frustrated.

-It would be beneficial to have her on our side, especially if she has such a significant influence on the world of the living and beyond, Charlie concluded thoughtfully.

-But she hid from the world, living as a hermit. Many think it's a myth, but given what's been happening lately, I believe it's much more present than sinners think.

Vaggie rubbed her temples, trying to come up with an idea.

-Who the hell are you talking about? I hate it when you pretend to be Sherlock and leave me like the old cookie in the back of the cupboard.

-Are you interested in what we do? retorted Vaggie sarcastically

-No, more about why you were busting my balls, joked Angel.

-You don't even have one, asshole, mumbled quietly Husk, taking a sip of his cheap booze.

-Want to check~? It is free for you kitty cat.

-Not even for a thousand balls, growled quietly Husk, who was beginning to lose his patient.

-Ouuh finally a price there is progress, Daddy, the spider sent him a kiss

Alastor, who was reading a book by the fireplace, decided to speak

-Charlie, Darling, you seem concerned about this person Let me see…

He seemed surprised for a moment, before smiling more, if possible.

-My my, what a terrible coincidence. The person you are looking for is one of the most sought after. Didn't Lucifer tell you about Lady (Y/N)?

-Um… We're not exactly talking about all that-

“Daddy issues,” Husk muttered.

Alastor continued:

-As reported in this document, she flew away shortly after your parents. She was a person living in Heaven, she was not human, but not an angel entirely though, she had two pairs of wings, although she is the appearance of a mortal, yet she had her own power, not to be underestimated. She embodied humor, justice and determination. In short, all these things that are way too boring-

-Cut it short, Alastor, Vaggie said, snapping her fingers.

-But when Lucifer challenged God, she did not follow him, not because she had to beat him, but because he knew just as well as she did that what he was doing was wrong. For the first time in her life she felt an immense disappointment in the love he had once inspired in her, and the semblance of a relationship that was perhaps tending to end disappeared with the appearance of the first demon, your father, Charlie.

However, you are aware that shortly after the creation of Lilith, she quickly became friends with your mother, and when she flew away from Paradise, and she learned the cause, she entered in a black anger, so black that Gabriel had difficulty in containing it, Until then, she had always been obedient, never contesting the decisions, which were of infallible Justice, but this departure had torn away part of her herself. She confronted the lord, she tried to rally the others to her cause, but nothing changed. Disappointed, she left that place, and no one ever saw her again.

There was a heavy silence for a moment, before Angel said:

-So…Is she still a virgin?

Vaggie rolled her eyes before Charlie had an idea:

I'm sure she's not that far away. Maybe I should ask my father to contact her again. She must care about him, at least I hope so, and if I convince her, Gabriel won't be able to object!

Vaggie refrained from adding a comment, she knew it was too good to be able to do it, but in front of her girlfriend's adorable face, she couldn't refuse anything.

______________________________________________________________

-No, Lucifer said firmly, before Charlie could even finish his idea.

-But dad-

-End of discussion, I don't want to hear anything, he turned around and mechanically squeezed the rubber duck in his hand, like an anti-stress ball.

Lucifer seemed elsewhere, deep in thought. His friend, his old friend…

.

.

.

“Luciferrrrr!” A burst of joy appeared as she walked towards him, a smile on her lips, a book in her hands.

Lucifer as usual had a lyre in his hands. He looked up at Y/N and smiled.

One discussion led to another, he shared his ideas about the mortal world, while she agreed with some and shared her opinion on others. They would sometimes just stay silent, or she would read aloud from a book, and he would then accompany her with his lyre.

Such a beautiful memory…

.

.

.

Why Lucifer?! Why did you do this?

This same friend was there with her eyes filled with tears, disappointed in him.

Lucifer looked down. One mistake, just one mistake, had caused him to lose those he considered family, and his closest friend.

He wanted to tell her that it was just a misunderstanding, that it was for the best, but the damage was already done.

He took Lilith's hand and without a word, left for their new home.

The young woman, in tears, could only watch them leave, the man she loved and her friend, without being able to do anything, because her principles prevented her. Gabriel placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, and said nothing. If she knew, he couldn't imagine how she would have reacted

.

.

.

-Dad?

Lucifer seemed to come out of his thoughts and focused on a family portrait. Lilith was already gone, after their separation he only had his daughter left, and after a second of thought he sighed and said:

-I'll see what I can do…

-It's true? Oh thank you Dad, thank you thank you thank you!, cried Charlie enthusiastically.

She took him in her arms, and Lucifer said to himself that finally, if having a hug from his daughter meant having to seek the 7 rings of Hell and even the beyond, he would do it without complaining.

Now all that remained was to find it, the most complicated part…

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lucifer, Charlie and the hotel members thought for several days, using all their knowledge and powers to find her. If she was neither in Hell, nor in Heaven, or even in the mortal world, she must be between the latter options-

Lucifer suddenly had an idea, remembering a conversation they had shared long ago, and he cast an incantation, which opened a portal to a world- no, a unique place, so messy and blurry, and yet so… familiar, as if he were…

“In the middle of a dream,” Charlie whispered softly. The rest of the team followed her, looking around curiously. Lucifer asked himself so many questions, was it a place where souls rested between life and death? He did not know it. After all, the soul left the body for a while when it slept, that would explain the place.

-Who are you? I sense human souls, but something else…

They saw several women advancing, of great beauty, similar to fairies, but armed, ready to defend themselves, if it was not for another who stopped them by raising her hand, she advanced slowly, and Lucifer recognized her completely. right now.

-(Y/N)..Lucifer seemed upset to see her, and tried to pull himself together by talking to himself. "Ok, Ok. It's going to be okay buddy, you can do it, you can do it", When he met her gaze, he lost all his courage and hid behind Charlie.

-Dad!

-What? I-I'm just covering your back Charlie.

-At least what I thought of you is true, you're just a sissy Lucifer, Alastor sneered.

You looked at him for a moment, the man you had loved for thousands of years, it was..strange. You didn't know whether you should greet him or hit him.

-Lucifer, what is the honor of this visit worth to me? In 10,000 years you have never had the decency to come visit me.

Sarcasm. Something unusual about you, he couldn't help but admire you. Your two pairs of wings were now grey, but your eyes were still this soft (e/c) shade, but now full of resentment, and perhaps.. mockery?

-And you, you must be his daughter, mhh?

You moved closer to her and observed her suspiciously, while she was sweating profusely, and Vaggie seemed on the edge on attacking you, and to her surprise, you smiled widely and took her in your arms, with surprising strength.

-My lord you are his carbon copy, so pretty~, you squish her cheek cheeks and gush about her, while she laughs awkwardly.

Everyone was stunned by how fast the tension dissipates, and the women behind you giggle, seemingly aware by how fast your emotions tend to change. Lucifer smiles, maybe he still had a chance..

-But you seem so polite, unlike some, you cast a dark look at Lucifer, and greeted the others with a sympathetic and curious look, their offering to sit down for a while to talk.

...maybe not finally.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

-If I understood everything, you created a hotel to rehabilitate sinners… and are trying to convince Heaven, is that right?

She nodded and Lucifer tried to add something, but you stopped him:

-I don't speak with traitors and liars, especially if they forget to send me a life message for eons.

Lucifer doesn't say anything wanting to make anything worse. He knew he was wrong, and sighed heavily.

(Y/N)-1 Lucifer-0.

-Damn, this girl is awesome, Angel whispered excitedly.

Vaggie continued:

-Lady (Y/N), you still have decent relationship with heaven.Could you try talking to some highers-up about it? Like Gabrie-

-No, this thing is no longer part of my circle of close friends, I can still try to talk about it again with Sera and Emily, but I can't do anything with the other weirdo.

Charlie felt hopeless, and she took your hands and looked at you with a miserable expression.

-I beg you, you must speak to him, my people are dying every year at the hands of the exorcists, and I-I cannot stand by and do nothing. Can you try..?

At his beaten puppy look, you widened your eyes, it was exactly-

Please don't tell them where I was, Lucifer pleaded with adorable eyes. You sighed but smiled, nodding your head.

-Well, i will. But I'm not promising anything though-

-Thank you thank you thank you, she hugged you, and you hugged her back with a smile.

Lucifer felt his heart beat faster, these two women who are precious to him have finally met, and got along better than he expected.

Now all he had to do was sort out one last problem.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Explanations were made. You listened patiently, and after a while you answered:

-Why Lucifer, didn't you tell me before? I-I thought I was your friend.

Lucifer held her gaze, and for the first time in millennia he took his courage in both hands and took hers:

-I didn't want to see your disappointed look, I know I made a mistake, but I only thought about doing the right thing. And I-

-You got scared?

He nodded, and you sighed:

-I don't blame you, at least not anymore.

He raised his eyes, feeling a bit of hope, and feeling Charlie's encouraging look, he continued:

-So, can we try again? I mean our relationship- Well our friendship!

He blushed slightly and you chuckled softly:

-Yes, always Lucifer.