#and they r kin with crowley too

[ritz-writes]

i love seeing ppl being like "mann my expectations are too high now since ive started reading ineffable husbands fics. i want what aziraphale and crowley have"

and im sitting here cackling

cuz I DO HAVE IT

its literally just @skittlescripts and me and i love it

sorry to every one else but. im living the dream 😌

[demonontheroad]

Since i like fun and being cringe ill make a kin/characters i relate to a little too much even for my own comfort-list

In no particular order

Stan Pines (GF)

Yato (Noragami)

Edward Elric (FMA)

Rick Sanchez (R&M)

Ryuk (death note)

Jotaro Kujo (JJBA)

Diane Nguyen (BH)

Korvo (SoOp)

Crowley (GO)

If you make any assumptions on my personality based on this list you would be completely right

[anthonycrowleymoved]

im the nice anon i just also thought its important for u to know bc ur a crowley kinnie that im an az kinnie (severe kin disease i named myself after him oops) and im surrounded by crowley kinnies. two of my best friends kin him and my boyfriend does too. i feel like im tossing corn bits to the ground and all the crowley kinnies come flocking like chickens (in a good way i like chickens) anyways crowley kinnies r cool i love u

dating service for kinnies of various pairings when amiright

[waywardfeathered]

buggeredson‌        ☾        crowley .

          “Yes, so you’ve INSISTED since we got you down here.” Crowley was languid, unbothered by Castiel’s bravado–or was it stupidity?–in the face of danger. Lovely thing about having an angel chained up for you: really limits their mobility. Crowley walked with a slow, measured pace towards Cas: he stalked towards him with purpose, blade held loosely in hand, situating himself behind and just to the side of his caged little birdy. “Funny thing, though: people so often change their mind when I get involved.”           The trace of a smirk on his face lifted his voice as well as one thick, meaty hand curled itself in the angel’s hair and yanked back. (Didn’t this just bring back the sweetest of   m e m o r i e s ?   Life in Hell was far from perfect, but damned if it didn’t have its highlights.)

          “I’ll have it out of you, one way or another. You refusing to talk only makes it more intimate. It feels, after all, like we’ve only just met. Have you always smelled like this, angel?” Crowley bent slightly at the waist, eyes watching Castiel’s profile as he spoke low into his ear. “Fear, regret, a trace of…mmm, self-loathing? Awful demonic of you. Awful HUMAN of you, too. For shame,” he added, louder, rising again. He let go of Castiel’s hair, hand dropping down to his shoulder blades, seeking–. Ah. The money shot. “Spent a very interesting quarter century with an angel once. Have I ever mentioned that? Learned all sorts of naughty little tricks.”

          Like this one. A twist of his hand, his tongue curling in his jaw and settling against his cheek - silent spells, tricky beasts - but it worked now the way it worked then: like a bloody charm. Grace tapped through nerves seldom manipulated by skilled, knowing hands flowed outward in a sudden rush, broke the barriers between the planes and things unseen, unfelt, unnoticed save when called rushed through.

W I N G S .

          And not very pretty ones either. “Oh, darling. Who clipped your wings before I could?” Crowley asked, his voice low and hushed but warmed by the grin on his face, awestruck and mutely terrified the sight but giddy, somehow, at their blatant imperfection.

          “Bite me.”

          Crowley’s intimidation tactics had no effect on Castiel. All of that show was for nothing other than Crowley’s own entertainment ---- he had enough experience on torture, both as the subject and the assaulter, to brush it right off of him. The obvious little mannerisms of the way he walked, even the way he yanked Cas’s head back by his hair, speaking to him from behind rather than letting him see him, was all familiar to him.

          It was all bark ---- only Crowley also had the bite, he was just... what, enjoying the delay? Trying to let Cas brew and dread for it? Good luck with that.

          “I am not afraid of you,” he spat, shifting his eyes to catch a glimpse of the man, refusing to turn his head even as he let go of his hair. Regret? Self-loathing? He was not going to argue on that. But fear? Maybe. But not of Crowley. No.

          His next words alarmed Castiel, though. But what could he possibly do to him that was worse than what his brothers----

          Castiel jerked against the chains holding him in surprise as he felt his true form being yanked at, grunting as he tried, on instinctive reaction, to resist. His first sign of weakness. But he couldn’t control this; his wings, not their celestial, multidimensional form, but their corporeal one, and he had not done this, had not manifested them in centuries, certainly never after they had been broken, yet now----

          Castiel set his jaw, but a muscle below his eye twitched. Now he felt vulnerable. Which, he knew, was a huge disadvantage. “I’m an angel,” he replied, his voice dark, “and my kin, if you had not noticed that yet, is not awfully fond of me these days.” It wasn’t a lie, but neither was it really saying anything. All of them had their wings broken, at least everyone who had been ejected from Heaven by Metatron, but he had no illusions of any of his siblings being sad about Castiel being among the wrecked ones.