#crowleys tongue kept falling off

[bobkanlidebacon]

little aziracrow sculpture i made.

[happy74827]

The Demon With A Heart

[Crowley x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: When Crowley saves your life, you can't help but think it was a little more than self-interest.

WC: 1858

Category: 99.9% Sexual Tension (lmfao), 0.01% Fluff + Angst? {TW: Mentions of Demons (obvi), Murder}

Crowley is too iconic not to have fics. I said what I said.

『••✎••』

You didn’t know how to react. It was as if your tongue was taken away, and you couldn’t talk, no matter how much you wanted to thank the man.

No, the demon.

You stood there with wide eyes, staring at the King of Hell, Crowley. He looked the same as before: a clean suit, a snarky comment, and a look of disgust on his face. But, instead of being on the opposite side, he was wiping the blood off of the angel blade he used to kill the angel that jumped you.

He just saved you—The King of Hell.

The very man who told Sam and Dean countless times that he doesn't do anything for free and doesn’t help people without getting something out of it. Yet, here he was, standing in front of you, not asking for a single thing.

The thought was a bit unsettling.

"Purely out of self-interest, darling," He says, breaking the silence and putting the stolen blade into his jacket. "Call it a favor that I plan to collect in the future."

He was about to leave, but you couldn’t let him go. Not without a thank you, at least. You didn't want him to think you didn’t appreciate what he did.

"Crowley."

The man turns back around, his hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable.

"Thank you."

The corner of his mouth turned upward, forming a small smirk. He didn’t say anything but rather kept his eyes on you for a second longer. He then disappeared, leaving you in the dark.

And it did leave you in the dark. For days, weeks, months. He never came for that favor, and he never brought up what happened. In fact, he barely talked to you at all. It was always towards the Winchesters.

You began to believe it was nothing but a dream. That Crowley somehow didn't save you. The angel was a fake, and this was all some sick joke. It felt like gaslighting.

But you knew what happened was real. You remembered the blood splatter and the dead corpse. The way his face contorted when he pierced the angel's heart.

It was all too real.

So, why was he ignoring you? Why did he pretend that it never happened? Was he going to hold it over your head? Or was it just the fact that the King of Hell did something nice for a human?

Was it because he… cared?

One night, you got your answer. It was a quiet night filled with books, tea, and soft music. At least, it was before those idiotic brothers decided to tear down the bunker in search of some book.

You couldn’t remember the exact reason they needed it, but you were too tired to argue. So, you stayed in your room and tried to fall asleep.

That is until the lights went out and the emergency lights kicked on. Okay, now you were annoyed. You got up, slipped on your shoes and a coat, and walked out of your room.

"Alright, what did you two-"

You paused mid-sentence, eyes falling onto the figure in the library. The man was facing the opposite way, but you knew exactly who it was. The familiar black suit and hair gave it away.

"Crowley…"

"Hello, Darling,” he replied, turning around and smiling at you. It was almost unnerving. He didn’t have a malicious aura or even an evil one. Just... a smile.

You looked behind him and noticed… well, nothing. You were expecting the Winchesters to be with him, and yet, it was just him.

"Where are the boys?"

"Moose and Squirrel? Ah, they're off somewhere, doing... well, you know. Something heroic, I suppose. Figured I’d stick around… enjoy the scenery."

That’s when you looked up and understood what he meant. He was stuck, quite literally. Those devil traps they put everywhere finally did something good.

You half-expected him to bring up that 'favor' he was talking about or maybe even just demand to get out of there, but he did neither. Instead, he looked at the ground and sighed.

At the moment, the King of Hell looked just like a caged puppy, sad and alone. If he wasn’t such a… demon, you might have even felt bad for him.

But, you left him in there, strolling along to the kitchen to find some kind of light. You were not giving up your two hours of reading due to power loss.

As you shuffled through the cabinets, looking for any form of match or lighter, the lights flickered back on.

So that’s where the Winchesters were.

You shrugged and turned back to your room but stopped at the entrance to the library. Crowley was still there, but this time, his face was twisted. He was clearly pissed.

"Why did you do it?" The burning question you wanted answered for months finally came out. Crowley stopped his little fit and turned towards you, a confused expression on his face.

He looked like he had no idea what you were talking about.

"I do a lot of things, Chipmunk. You'll have to be more specific."

You walked towards him, resting down the candles and book on a nearby table. You didn’t know why, but the need to confront him was growing.

"Save me all those months ago."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

You were getting closer, now only a few feet from him. Crowley, however, didn’t back away. Instead, he watched as you moved, his expression unchanging.

"That angel could’ve killed me, yet you came out of nowhere and stabbed him. I know you don't do anything out of kindness, so why did you do it? What do I offer that no one else does?"

Crowley stayed silent for a while, not giving any indication of answering your questions.

You thought it was just a lost cause until his expression changed. It was subtle, but you caught it. The corner of his mouth turned down, and his eyes widened, then narrowed.

He almost looked ashamed.

"It's just like I said. Self-interest." He spat out, his voice sounding like venom. You almost took a step back. It still sounded like the same old Crowley, but his tone was different.

You decided to call his bluff.

"I don't believe you."

Crowley raised an eyebrow, a smirk coming across his face. He was amused by the sudden attitude, but it didn’t last long.

"And what makes you say that?"

"I saw the way you looked at me after you saved me. Hesitancy, almost. Like you were unsure. As if..."

The King of Hell stared at you, waiting for the last part of your statement. He was eager but not for the answer. No, he knew what you were going to say.

He was just waiting to hear it come out of your mouth.

"You care."

Those words hung in the air, both of you processing it. Crowley continued to stare at you, the smirk disappearing, leaving his face neutral. He had a blank expression.

A silence grew, the atmosphere turning awkward. It wasn't until the demon let out a loud sigh and looked to the side that it was broken.

"You’re really pulling on the heartstrings, Chipmunk,” he muttered, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "If I had one, I'd say it was aching."

"Do you?"

You knew what you were implying. Crowley was the King of Hell, the ruler of the damned. He was the furthest thing from human, yet he could walk among them and, sometimes, be mistaken for one.

Was it possible for him to be human or even have emotions?

Crowley looked at you and frowned, clearly not liking the topic. But he didn't deny it. It was a strange sight—the King of Hell, frowning and silent.

It was almost adorable.

"I'm not asking for anything. I just… want an honest answer."

"Well, I am a demon, love,” He stated, his tone changing to a more playful one. “Honesty isn’t quite in the job description."

"Crowley."

You were starting to get impatient, and it showed. Your voice was firm, and your posture was tense. You wanted an answer, and you were determined to get it.

The demon in question let out another sigh and looked at the ceiling as if praying for a quick escape.

"You're a pain, you know that? It's exhausting." He grumbled, rolling his eyes. "But, I suppose, since you asked nicely..."

The man looked at you, his lips pursed. He was still hesitating, which only made you more curious.

"Yes, I care. About you. Happy?"

You blinked a few times, processing the information. Did the King of Hell, the person known for not giving a shit, just admit he cares?

"I-" You started, not knowing what to say. It was a surprise but not an unwelcome one. Crowley wasn't exactly a bad guy, well, a demon.

"Do you actually mean that?"

"Now that…" Crowley started, his voice low and deep. He leaned towards you, making you back up, but the wall soon prevented you from going any further.

He was inches away, his breath hitting your face. You could see his eyes staring into yours—a pretty brown, like a mocha latte.

"…Is the kind of question that will get you in trouble, love."

You weren’t sure what he was planning, but you didn't care. The way his eyes were looking at you, the smirk on his face, the closeness...

He was probably expecting you to back away, but he was wrong. You were an avid reader, obsessive even. This scene wasn't new, nor was it shocking.

The only shocking part was the fact that you were the one in it. And, well, the fact that you didn’t mind it.

"Unlike you,” you whispered, a small smirk on your face. "I don’t care."

Your response made him pause for a moment, squinting his eyes and giving you a confused look. It only lasted a few seconds, though. Soon, he understood, and a chuckle escaped his lips.

"Touché"

You truly believed you were about to lose your chance with the man upstairs, but loud footsteps interrupted you.

"Crowley, you slimy son of a bitch! If you’re not here, we are going to-"

Dean stopped talking as he rounded the corner, seeing you and Crowley close. His expression was shocked, almost comical.

"The hell is going on here?"

You and Crowley both turned to look at Dean, a look of annoyance on the King of Hell's face. Sam came around the corner as well, sharing the same look of confusion.

Crowley gave you one last glance, a bit of disappointment in his eyes, before taking a step back. His attention moved on to the two hunters, his usual smile returning.

And despite the annoyance in the air and the confusion, the only thing that came across your mind was another question that you were sure would take control of your sleep schedule once again.

"Hello, boys," He purred, his arms moving to his side. He was back to his old self, not showing a single sign of what happened moments ago.

Had the beauty thawed the beast?

[winchesterscorner]

[Crowley] - Take The Help, Darling

♫ - Love Me Like You Do - Ellie Goulding

You weren't sure how it had happened, or for that matter, when. What you did know, right now, is that you were pretty banged up and bleeding quite excessively. It was nothing you probably couldn't patch up yourself, and you knew for a fact you had experienced much worse. Nobody had been on Death's door quite as much as you. 

You had joined Sam and Dean in their hunting business almost a year ago to the day, and you had gone from being a childhood best friend of Sam (which came with a Dean) to being a very valued member of the team. Your specialty was language and deciphering symbols where the boys could not. Their knowledge was nothing to be ashamed of, they were very clever, but there were certain things even they didn't know and always turned to you in the end. You didn't mind, of course, they kept you safe and fed in repayment.

Almost all of the time.

This time, however, was unexpected. You found yourself dealing with three demons, who had showed up just outside the bunker and were looking for Dean specifically. After you had refused to let them in, obviously knowing better, they drew their knives and you dropped your bag, brandishing your own blade.

"Okay, so we're doing this.." you thought to yourself. 

One demon went down fairly easy, but it was still you against two, and you weren't the biggest or tallest of people. Not as though that would matter, these were very strong demons. You did a pretty good job fending them off, and you tried to outrun them long enough to at least call one of the boys. You almost had it, finger hovering over Dean's name, and just before you could press anything, your phone was flung out of your hand, well out of reach. Sighing, you took a deep breath and launched yourself over the box you had been behind, catching one of the demons with your blade. As he went down, it gave you just enough time to see where the other one was. 

The fight went on for a few more minutes, you both punching and kicking as well as getting a few nicks here and there from each blade. However, one misstep from you and the demon stabbed you in the thigh, causing you to fall to the floor. The demon stood above you, with a grin, knowing you realistically can't go anywhere. 

"We'll send Winchester your way."

You closed your eyes tight, expecting the worst and accepting your fate. Some seconds had passed, too many for a demon so intent on killing you. You opened your eyes to see what the delay was, and the demon was above you, knife sticking out of his front. The metal was removed, and he fell next to you, lifeless. Above you now, stood a familiar face, and a very unexpected one at that.

"Hello, Y/N, in a spot of bother, are we?" 

Crowley was not the person you were expecting to see before you, he may actually have been the last person you thought you'd see. 

You hadn't really known Crowley too long, about as long as you had been working with the boys. You knew he was untrustworthy, but to you, he had never been anything but kind. There was a time when you needed someone, and Crowley had simply popped in to annoy Dean to pass a bit of time, but instead found you crying on the floor. He wasn't sure why, but his instincts brought him to sit next to you, arm around your shoulder to comfort you. You talked out your problem, and found yourself enamoured by him from then on.

You were very aware he was the King of Hell, but he was so sweet to you. He brought you flowers sometimes when the boys were away, gifts here and there. Nothing you had asked for, but you appreciated it nonetheless. Sam and Dean didn't, but really you didn't care. He had a sweet tongue, but mostly he was quick witted and sarcastic and in every situation, he had some sort of quip.

Even in this situation, he still couldn't refrain from a quick bit of sarcasm, which you promptly fired back with. 

"No, I was perfectly fine, of course.." you trailed off, raising an eyebrow at him, to which he shook his head. 

"Right," he started, glancing at your very bloody leg, eyes roaming the rest of your body. "Well, perhaps I should have left you to it, you definitely seemed to have the upper hand."

"Fuck you," you spoke, and he raised his eyebrows suggestively at you, causing you to laugh slightly. Why, you didn't know. But you did, and he probably wouldn't ever let you forget it down the line. 

That was your relationship. Sarcastic comments and suggestive sentences. But, when it came down to it, there was a serious side for you both.

"C'mere. Let me help."

Crowley offered his hand, but you didn't take it, instead trying to get to your feet by using the old wooden crate outside as leverage. That was short lived, as you fell quite quickly, not being able to put pressure on your left leg. Crowley shook his head, and knelt down to you. He took your chin in his hand, making you look at him. He was beautiful. You'd always though it. You couldn't deny that fact, even knowing he was the literal King of Hell. There was still something beautiful about him. His eyes, his face, the way he seemed to care about you more than other humans. 

Snapping out of it, you brought yourself back to the present, where he was staring intently at you, rubbing his thumb along your cheek.

"Take the help, darling."

You nodded, and he smiled. A genuine smile, not the smarmy one he had when Dean was acting up, or the shit-eating one he had when he pushed Sam too far. It was a proper smile, laced with concern. Crowley pushed himself to his feet, and picked you up, bridal style, carrying you to the bunker door. 

"You'll have to let me in, love, the boys don't trust me with a key," he asked, and you shot him a look. He playfully rolled his eyes. "Can't see why."

With a wink, he let you put the key in the door, but you didn't turn it.

"No funny business, yeah? Please behave." Your voice was quiet, serious. He nodded, knowing how much Dean and Sam would rag on you if he did anything... well, Crowley. 

"Promise, lovely, I'm just here to help you, no funny business."

So, you let him in.

True to his word, Crowley lay you down on the sofa and patched you up, taking care to clean and bandage your wounds properly. While he worked, you talked.

"Why did you save me? How did you know I was in trouble?"

Crowley didn't make eye contact, continuing to work, but a smirk grew across his face.

"Actually, to be honest, I didn't come here to save you. I didn't even know you were in danger. I was just here to bother moose and squirrel. I sensed the commotion outside and well, low and behold, I see you. I won't lie, I felt a bit of panic when I saw you."

You raised your eyebrows, shocked at his admission. Crowley never spoke about feelings unless necessary, or that one time he had to feel human feelings, so to hear that was strange.

"And well, I couldn't let you die, darling. I know you can handle yourself, I know that much. But I couldn't lose you."

"Crowley.." he brought a finger to your lips before you could continue.

"Shh, I know how that sounds. I have come to realise that I do care about you. Which is not the kind of confession you think you'd get from the King of Hell. But, you're different to all these other humans. You listen to me, you care. Good god, you nearly died saving my life barely two months ago. And I think.."

With all the might you had in you, no matter how much it hurt, you sat up and threw your body forward, landing in Crowley's arms. This silenced him then and there, and he wrapped his arms around you gently, not wanting to hurt you more. You pulled back, just enough to look into his eyes again, and smiled. Leaning in, you brushed your lips with his and let him close the gap. To your surprise, he was gentle, the brush of his beard against your face felt nice. He held you by the waist as you sat in his lap, and when you both pulled away, he cradled your head against his chest.

"Next time, love, just tell me I'm boring you."

He chuckled, and you tapped him playfully. 

"If I had to shut you up every time you were boring, Crowley, you'd never be able to talk again."

He simply laughed, kissed the top of your head, and leaned back on the sofa. You felt heavy, the energy you had for the day had disappeared after the fight, but you knew if you fell asleep here, almost certainly Dean and Sam would be back eventually, and you would have so much explaining to do. But, despite that, as Crowley ran his fingers softly through your hair, you felt yourself drifting off in between his legs, content in your newfound relationship with the King of Rotten.

In the end, you were glad you took the help.

Thank you for reading! <3

If you enjoy my content, you can buy me a coffee here :)

[supernaturalscribe67]

Wicked Desires

Words: 5,574

Pov: 3rd Person

Pairing: Crowley x Male!Winchester!Reader

Warning(s): Language, suggestive content, angst, semi-smut???

Summary: The reader and Crowley had been together for a while, and had planned on keeping their relationship a secret from the reader's brothers. What happens when Sam and Dean accidentally stumble upon something they aren't supposed to see?

Request:

Hello, hope you're having a good day/night

I was wondering if I could request Sam and Dean finding out their older brother is going out with Crowley?

@xweirdo101x

A/N: This was only supposed to be 1,800 words, what happened??? I really hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it, and I hope I did your request and Crowley justice! Feedback is greatly appreciated!

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The chill fall air nipped at (Y/N)’s skin, causing a shiver to run down his spine as he exited the Impala. Pain shot through his ankle and up his leg when he stepped onto his right foot. He winced and let out a deep hiss as he reached over and held onto the top of the car for support. Sam got out of the car and was quick to move next to him. He wrapped an arm around his torso while placing (Y/N)’s arm around his shoulders. Sam shook his head. 

“I told you not to step in front of me. I could have taken that vamp out,” he said. 

(Y/N) let out a deep chuckle. His chest rumbled. “The vamp was going low and you were swinging high. You were lucky I did get in there, otherwise, he would have hit your leg like he did mine.” 

“I could have handled it.” 

“I know you could have, kid.” 

Sam rolled his eyes at the nickname and assisted (Y/N) with walking to the motel door. Dean got out of the driver’s seat, got out the room key, and opened the door. He shook his head as well. He stepped to the side and let his brothers into the room. 

“Sam’s right, (Y/N),” Dean began as Sam led (Y/N) into the room and helped him sit on the bed furthest from the door. “You have to let us take some hits once in a while. It can’t just be you getting hurt out there.” 

(Y/N) let out a sigh. He lifted his injured foot onto the bed while the other rested against the tattered carpet. “You guys need to stop worrying about me. I’m fine, okay? It’s just a sprained ankle. I’ve had worse, nothing I can’t handle.” 

“And I could have handled it, too, if you would have let me take him out.” Sam placed his hands on his hips. 

“Trust me, Sammy, it’s a lot harder to lug your big ass through the door than it is mine. Besides, that’s what big brothers are for. They’re supposed to protect you. You took the vamp out right after he got me, so we’re good. No harm, no foul.” 

Sam opened his mouth to speak, but let out a sigh instead, finding it useless to argue. He ran a hand down his face and turned away. Dean just silently stared at (Y/N), jaw clenched ever so slightly. (Y/N) licked his lips. 

“Look, the hunt went fine. If the only thing we get out of it is a sprained ankle, then I’m okay with it! The vampires are dead, we’re all tired, and, I don’t know about you guys, but my stomach has been speaking in tongues ever since we got in the car. Why don’t you boys go and get us something to eat at that diner we saw down the road while I get cleaned up?” 

Hesitantly, Sam and Dean nodded their heads. Sam began to walk towards the door while Dean kept looking at his older brother. (Y/N) raised his brows. 

“Dean, I’m fine. Really. Like I said, it’s just a sprained ankle. I’m not even bleeding anywhere. The blood on my shirt isn’t even mine.” (Y/N) explained. 

“I know…” Dean trailed. “But, believe me, we’re gonna talk about this when we get back.” Dean pulled the keys out of his pocket as he pointed at him. 

(Y/N) rolled his eyes and waved him off. “Yeah, yeah, just go get the food.” 

“Double cheeseburger?” 

“Hell yeah, extra greasy,” (Y/N) mumbled and licked his lips, already able to feel his mouth begin to water. 

Dean shook his head before he followed Sam out of the room, the heavy wooden door closing roughly behind them. (Y/N) let out a tired breath of air as soon as he was alone. He stood, making sure to keep the weight off of his right foot as he did so. He needed to get cleaned up. 

He stripped from his clothes, tossing them onto the black duffel that rested half-hazardly over one of the side chairs. When his clothes were discarded, he made his way to the bathroom and closed the door behind him. He flicked on the switch for the light, the whirring of the vent fan filling his ears. He turned on the shower, checked to make sure that the temperature of the water was to his liking, then stepped in. Immediately, he could feel all of the aching muscles in his body relax. (Y/N) always loved getting the first shower after a hunt, the water was fresh and warm and guaranteed a better clean. 

He didn’t take long in the shower, he wanted to make sure that his brothers had some hot water for when they got clean as well. He stepped out, grabbed one of the heavily used off-white towels, and wrapped it around his waist. He tied it at the corner and walked out of the room. The chill from the drastic change in temperature allowed goosebumps to appear on his arms and legs, the hair on the back of his neck standing tall. 

(Y/N) went over to his duffel bag. He sorted his dirty clothes into one side of the bag, then grabbed a clean pair of boxers. He put them on underneath the towel before he tossed it to the side. As he took out the rest of the clothes he was going to wear that night, he felt a slight shift in the atmosphere. He froze. It was silent, but the air felt heavier, almost warmer. 

“Hello, love,” the deep, familiar, accented voice spoke. 

(Y/N) allowed his tense shoulders to relax as he turned. A smirk appeared on his face as he saw Crowley standing there, clad in his usual attire. Crowley eyed him. 

“Damn,” Crowley shook his head. “I knew I should have popped in a little sooner. Maybe I could have joined you for a shower.” 

(Y/N) chuckled as he limped over to him. “Aren’t you a charmer?” He questioned as he leaned in and pressed his lips against Crowley’s. 

They shared a brief, chaste kiss before pulling away. Crowley’s hand reached up and gently caressed (Y/N)’s cheek. His thumb brushed against his jawline as his gaze shifted down to (Y/N)’s feet. 

“I see the hunt didn’t go so well,” he observed. 

“The hunt went fine,” (Y/N) grumbled and went back over to his duffel bag. “I got the worst of it, and it’s just a sprain. Nothing too severe.” 

“You did it to save one of your brothers again, didn’t you?” 

(Y/N) hesitated, the silence answering Crowley’s question for him. Crowley shook his head in disappointment as he walked over to him, wrapping his arms around his waist. 

“You know, those two idiots can handle themselves, right?” 

“We’re not going to discuss this. I’ve already explained; I’m their brother, and I have a right to defend them as I see fit.” 

“You always defend them.” 

“I always see fit.” 

(Y/N) picked up his t-shirt and went to place his arms inside before Crowley stopped him. He looked at Crowley for a moment. He could see the wicked glimmer hiding behind his eyes. 

“Leave it off,” Crowley’s voice was deep and seductive. 

Crowley leaned in and pressed his lips to (Y/N)’s. That kiss was slower, passionate, and heated. Crowley’s hands wandered down (Y/N)’s body to his hips. (Y/N) reached around and cupped the back of Crowley’s head, his fingers entangled in Crowley’s short mess of brown hair. His other hand rested against his chest, his fingertips caressing the smooth fabric of his tie. 

When they parted, (Y/N) let out a heavy breath. Meanwhile, Crowley moved his lips to (Y/N) jaw and down to his neck. (Y/N) tilted his head to the side as he pulled Crowley closer. 

“Sam and Dean are going to be back any minute.” He mumbled. 

“That gives us more of a reason to spend as much time together as possible.” 

“Do you think we have time?” 

“Do you?” Crowley pulled himself away from (Y/N), looking into his eyes. 

(Y/N) stared at him momentarily before his eyes shifted to the bed closest to them, then, finally, to the door. He wasn’t too sure how much time had elapsed since he had gotten in the shower, nor how long it would take for Sam and Dean to get back. His mind was clouded with lust and desire, and the only thing that he could focus on was Crowley. 

“Bed,” (Y/N) breathed as his hands made quick work to dispose of Crowley's suit jacket.

The fabric fell onto the floor as they made their way over to the bed, their lips connecting once again. The back of (Y/N)’s knees hit the side of the bed and he fell back onto it, his body bouncing from the force. Crowley was quick to climb on top of him. They kissed harder that time, desperately. While Crowley’s hands roamed around (Y/N)’s bare chest, (Y/N) was focused on taking as many layers off of Crowley as possible. 

Crowley’s tie was the first to go as it joined the jacket on the floor, followed by Crowley’s belt, pants, and shirt. When both men were only wearing their boxers, they moved up the length of the bed until (Y/N) felt the pillow hit the back of his head. 

“Fuck, you have no idea how much I missed you,” (Y/N) growled between kisses. 

Crowley chuckled. “I could tell, love. I missed you, too. Do you know how hard it is to find time alone with you when you are always on the road?” Crowley moved back and began to leave small, butterfly kisses down his chest. “How hard it is to keep my eyes off of you every time your brothers summon me?” Crowley’s lips trailed down his pecs towards his stomach. “How often I want to remind you who you belong to?” 

Crowley’s fingers began to play with the waistband of (Y/N)’s boxers. (Y/N) let out a needy whine. 

“Crowley, please,” he breathed. 

Crowley smirked as he looked up at him. “You beg so deliciously, darling.” 

Before either of them could move an inch, the door to the motel room opened. Dean was the first to walk in. When his gaze landed on the bed, he quickly went to cover his eyes with his hand. 

“Woah, sorry, (Y/N), didn’t know you-” he froze, eyes wide as he saw the person on the bed with his brother. 

Dean’s hand slowly lowered as he took in the scene. (Y/N) was resting on his back, a horrified look of shock present on his face. Crowley sat between (Y/N)’s legs, his fingers still hooked onto the waistband of his boxers. Sam entered after Dean and, before he could say anything, he stopped. His eyes, too, widened. A sly smirk slowly appeared on Crowley’s lips. 

“‘Ello boys,” he said, his voice breaking the heavy silence. 

Soon, Dean’s expression turned from shock to anger. His fists were clenched at his sides. “What the hell are you doing to my brother?” He growled out as he took a couple of steps closer to the bed. 

Crowley simply sat up on the bed, moving towards the edge. (Y/N) was quick to move between Dean and Crowley. He held his hands up. 

“Dean! Stop!” (Y/N) spoke in a booming voice. 

“You son of a bitch! I’m going to kill you!” Dean tried to push past (Y/N), but he held his ground. 

(Y/N) stood from the bed and placed a hand on Dean’s chest. “Dean!” 

Dean turned his attention from Crowley to (Y/N). His jaw clenched as he pushed (Y/N)’s hand off of him and turned back towards the door. He ran his hand down his face. The tension in the room was thick enough to be cut with a knife. Everyone stood in an uncomfortable silence. 

What broke the silence was the sharp sound of snapping fingers. Everyone turned to look at Crowley. (Y/N) had expected him to leave, but he was surprised to see that Crowley was still sitting there, fully dressed in the outfit that he had appeared in. (Y/N) turned back to look at his brothers. Sam and Dean stood side by side. Both of them were sending deadly glares towards him. If looks could kill, (Y/N) would be dead…again. 

(Y/N) took that moment to limp over towards his duffel bag. He got out the T-shirt and put it over his head. When it was on, he smoothed it out over his torso and limped back over to the bed. He sat next to Crowley, who had been watching (Y/N)’s movement the entire time. Once he was settled, Sam and Dean moved away from the door until they were standing in front of Crowley and (Y/N). 

“Care to explain what the Hell is going on here?” Dean asked as he crossed his arms over his chest. 

(Y/N) placed his elbows onto his knees, back slouched as he leaned forward. His eyes were cast down towards the floor. He felt like a child being scolded by his parents. Crowley glanced over at him before he opened his mouth to speak, but was quickly cut off by Dean. 

“If you say one word, I will stab you, do you understand?” Dean said between clenched teeth. 

Crowley closed his mouth and held his hands up in surrender. (Y/N) shook his head and clasped his hands together. 

“Crowley and I…” he trailed. “Are together.” 

“Together?” Dean raised his brows. 

“As in together-together?” Sam added. 

(Y/N) nodded. 

Sam let out a sigh and shook his head. Dean shuffled in his spot. 

“And…how long has this been going on?” 

(Y/N) hesitated for a moment. His eyes were still cast down towards the ground. He couldn’t even look his brothers in the eyes. He felt ashamed. He had kept his relationship with Crowley from Sam and Dean for a while, and it was something that he never wanted to come to light. He knew this was how Dean and Sam were going to react. Crowley was a demon after all. The King of Hell to be exact. Their relationship was forbidden to begin with. Still, he couldn’t help his feelings for Crowley. 

“How long, (Y/N),” Dean growled out. 

“A year.” (Y/N) replied softly. 

“A year,” Dean repeated. “A year. You’ve been screwing around with Crowley for a fucking year!? Was this before or after all the shit that he did to us? Are we even talking about the same Crowley here?” 

“Dean, listen,” (Y/N) stood from the bed. 

“No, you listen,” Dean stepped forward so that he was merely inches away from (Y/N), his finger pointed at his chest. “I don’t know what kind of fantasy relationship you think you have, but Crowley is using you.” 

“I’m right here,” Crowley mumbled. 

“You shut your-” Dean lunged for Crowley. 

“Dean!” (Y/N) grabbed the collar of Dean’s shirt to hold him back. “Crowley’s different, okay? He’s changed. He cares about me and, dammit, I care about him.” 

Dean looked at (Y/N) in disbelief. He scoffed and turned his back on him. As he ran his fingers through his hair, Sam took a step forward. He was visibly more calm than Dean was. 

“(Y/N), you know how Crowley is, you’ve seen what he can do.” He shook his head. 

“You guys don’t know anything!” (Y/N) shook his head rapidly. “You know all those demon hunts we’ve been on this year? You wanna know how we got all of the information so quickly? It wasn’t because of me like you thought.” He gestured dramatically to his chest. “It was because of Crowley! He was the one that gave me the information, he was the one that led us to every single one of those demon hideouts and let us get out of there as quickly as we did.” 

“Yeah, and he’s just going to use that as an excuse for you to do favors for him,” Dean’s attitude was dripping from his voice at that point. “You’re supposed to be our big brother. You’re supposed to be protecting us from monsters like him, not sleeping with them!” 

“That’s bullshit!” (Y/N) exclaimed. 

“No, you wanna know what’s bullshit? The fact that we trusted you! The fact that you thought you would be able to pull the wool over our eyes. How the hell are we supposed to trust you now? How do you expect us to sleep in the same room, let alone the same building as someone who would betray us like this?” 

(Y/N) tilted his head to the side. “What are you saying?” He crossed his arms over his chest. 

Dean paused and licked his lips. “I want you out.” 

“Dean,” Sam began. 

“No, Sam.” Dean held a hand up. “(Y/N) made his bed…now he can sleep in it.” 

(Y/N)’s shoulders slumped. “You’re kicking me out? I’m your brother, Dean.” 

“You were my brother. Now I don’t know who you are anymore.” 

“You don’t mean that.” 

“Oh, I do. I do mean it. You can get out. Now.” 

(Y/N) stared at Dean as he looked down at the floor. (Y/N)’s eyes moved to Sam, who was also looking at the floor for a moment before he turned his back on him. (Y/N) slowly nodded. 

“Alright,” he whispered. “I’ll leave.” 

(Y/N) limped past Sam and Dean and towards his bag. He grabbed his last pair of clean pants and put them on. He put on some socks and his boots before closing up his duffel. He slung it over his shoulder. He made his way towards the door and stopped for a moment. He looked back at Sam and Dean. Their backs were turned to him. Crowley had stood from his spot on the bed and began to make his way over to him. With a faint nod, (Y/N) opened up the motel room door and left. 

It had been six months since (Y/N) left the bunker. At first, he didn’t know what to do with himself. He had made it his goal in life to protect his little brothers at all costs, but when they wanted him to leave, he felt lost. He began to hunt on his own, not going far from Lebanon to pick up a couple of smaller ones here and there. Then, after the third hunt, he knew that it wasn’t for him. He was never good with hunting alone. It had been a big shift going from working with two other people to working alone. 

In the end, he decided that, even though he had been banished from the bunker, he didn’t necessarily have to stop protecting Sam and Dean. He had set up shop in his car, a small two-door truck that he had snatched from a shopping center in Lincoln, Nebraska, and rested a mile down the road from the entrance of the bunker. To go the extra mile, he had picked up a tracking device from a sketchy shop in Kansas City and put it in the Impala when Sam and Dean were asleep. The device gave him alerts on his phone whenever the car was in motion. 

He followed Sam and Dean from hunt to hunt using the tracker. He made sure to keep a safe distance to not alert them. He would get a motel room, just like them, which allowed him to sleep in a real bed and take a real shower instead of sleeping in the front seat of his car and praying that he didn’t smell too bad if he had to go out in public. That was his routine; track the boys to the hunt, keep an eye on them, go back to the bunker, wait. Wash, rinse, repeat. 

The entire time, Crowley was by his side. He would pop into the front seat of the truck occasionally. They spent the time talking to one another, an attempt made by Crowley to distract (Y/N) from everything that was going on in his head. At times it worked, but there were instances when (Y/N) just wanted to be by himself. He could tell that he was pushing Crowley away, but Crowley seemed persistent. He would bring (Y/N) food when he was hungry, and there were even moments when Crowley tried to urge him to make up with his brothers. (Y/N) always rejected the idea. No matter how much he wanted to be back with his brothers, they seemed happier without him. He would let them have their peace, even if he didn’t have his. 

Around April, (Y/N) tracked Sam and Dean to a small town in the lower part of South Dakota. Having read up on the reports, he realized that they were dealing with vampires. As a result of his recon, he concluded that it wasn’t just a couple of vampires that his brothers would be going against. It would be a whole nest. He estimated about ten vampires, and that was just the ones that he had seen pass outside and in the windows of the farmhouse that they were held up in. (Y/N) was nervous. It was too big of a job for them to do on their own. 

But (Y/N) knew how hard-headed Dean was. 

They were going into the nest guns blazing. 

(Y/N) couldn’t have that. 

For the first time in months, he had decided to make himself known. Later the next night, (Y/N) followed about a mile behind the Impala back to the farmhouse. He waited a couple of minutes before he exited his truck. He walked up to the house, machete in hand tight in his grasp. As he made his way, slowly, onto the porch, he caught a glimpse at some of the corpses that were around the perimeter. When he walked up the porch, he was able to see the front door kicked in and the sound of combat became louder. He took a deep breath before he rushed into the house. 

It was absolute carnage. Dark red blood decorated the floors and walls throughout the cramped foyer and bodies lay askew in various positions across the aged wood. (Y/N) stepped over the bodies as he made his way through the house towards the sound of fighting. Past the living room, he could see the chaos that was present in the small kitchen. The dining table had been flipped over, cabinets were broken off of their hinges, and blood splattered the discolored tile.

Dean lay on the floor, his hands held behind his back, machete across the room. Two vampires stood over him. One of them had their mouth agape, their sharp fangs glimmering in the moonlight. Sam was on the opposite side of the kitchen, a larger, stalkier vampire holding him against the wall, his forearm pressed into Sam’s throat. His fangs were out and they were inches away from Sam’s neck. 

All (Y/N) saw was red. 

(Y/N)’s movements were swift. One would never imagine that he had been out of the hunting game for months. One wouldn’t even imagine he was human. The way he moved, decapitating each of the vampires that held his brothers hostage, was almost ghostly. Their heads rolled on the floor, clumped together in a small pile in the center of the kitchen. (Y/N) didn’t even give the vampires a chance to react. 

By the time the threat was eliminated, (Y/N)’s clothes and face were splashed in blood. The only sound that filled the room was the pants that fell from each of their mouths. (Y/N) lowered his arm, the machete dripping with blood onto the stained floor. He reached down, grabbed the hem of his shirt, and wiped the blood from his face, pinching his lips shut as he did so. When he pulled the shirt away, he could see that Sam and Dean were staring at him, their eyes wide. 

Sam glanced down at Dean. Dean let out a grunt as he struggled to get up. Sam rushed over to his side and helped him up. When Dean went to put pressure on his right foot, he winced. He reached over and held onto one of the countertops for support before he and Sam turned and looked at their older brother again. Sam’s face was covered in an expression of disbelief. 

“(Y/N)?” Sam breathed. 

(Y/N) slowly lifted his arms. “In the flesh,” he mumbled before lowering them once more. He looked between Sam and Dean. “Look, I know that I’m the last person you want to see, but,” 

(Y/N) was interrupted when Sam pulled him into a tight embrace, his arms roughly wrapped around him. (Y/N) raised his brows in shock and hesitantly hugged him back. It had been so long since he had seen his brothers up close, let alone hugged them, that the emotions started to bubble up inside of him. With the adrenaline wearing off, he could feel the familiar prickle of tears appear in the corner of his eyes. He never realized just how much he missed his little brothers. 

When Sam pulled away, he had a small smile on his face. “Uh, how have you been? It’s been-” 

“Six months. I’ve kept track,” (Y/N) mumbled as he looked down at his machete. He reached over and placed it on one of the counters. 

“How the hell did you find us?” Dean grunted. 

(Y/N) lifted his head to look at him. Dean was fully leaning against the counter, his right foot lifted off of the ground. One of his hands was pressed against his side while the other one rested against the granite. 

“I put a tracker on Baby,” He answered. 

“You what?” 

“Put a tracker on your car. I’ve been following you guys for months.” 

“Why?”

(Y/N) hesitated. “Because I told myself the day that mom died that I was going to protect you guys no matter what. No matter how much you two pissed me off or I pissed you two off. You’re my little brothers, and it’s my job to look after you. To make sure you guys are alive and kicking, and if I wouldn’t have been here…” he shook his head. “I don’t think I would have been able to forgive myself if I just walked away.” 

“(Y/N)...” Sam trailed. 

“I know, I told you guys I would leave and I did. And, if you want, I’ll be out of here after this. We can get in our cars, go our separate ways, and we never have to see each other again. I don’t want that to happen, but I’ll respect your wishes if that’s what you want. Before I go, though, let me tell you this; 

“I understand how upset you guys were when you found out about Crowley and me. I understand how much of a shock that must have been. Hell, it was a shock to me when I realized that I liked the annoying bastard, and that’s the whole reason why I kept it from you two. I knew that you would react this way and I just didn’t want there to be any bad blood between us. We’re brothers, we’re supposed to stick together. Crowley and I talked about it and he understands that you boys come first before he does. It pissed him off when he would see my injuries from protecting you on hunts, but he stopped fighting me on it a while ago. Crowley’s not the same person around you two as he is around me. Believe it or not, he’s sweet and caring, and that is something that I never thought I would be able to say about him when we first met him. 

“For my entire life, I had made it my goal to protect you guys. I never thought that I would have even a small amount of normal in my life. Granted, having a relationship with the King of Hell isn’t exactly normal, but it’s the first taste of normalcy I have ever had and I love it. I love him and he loves me. He knows my limits, and what I will and will not do for him. He’s never asked me to do anything for him and I’ve never forced him to help me. I know that you guys hate the fact that I’m with him, and if that’s something that’s stopping you from having any type of relationship with me, then I will end it with Crowley because you guys are more important to me than him. He knows this. He’s prepared for me to end everything to go back to you guys. I just don’t want to lose you both. You mean so much to me. We’ve been through so much together and I would hate to see something as stupid as a man tear us apart.” 

Sam and Dean sat in silence as they listened to (Y/N). Once he was finished, he stood up straight. Sam glanced towards the ground before he looked over at Dean. He gave a small, short nod. Sam then turned his attention back towards his oldest brother. 

“We’ve been talking…a lot,” Sam admitted. 

Dean pushed himself off of the counter and hobbled next to his little brother. “I, uh…I think I overreacted when we found out.” 

“What?” (Y/N) furrowed his brows. 

“I shouldn’t have kicked you out.” Dean shook his head. “I was just so pissed off. But Sam and I have been talking recently and, uh, he mentioned that you’ve been…happier.” 

“But it never really occurred to us that Crowley could be the reason why you were so happy all of a sudden.” Sam continued. 

“Yeah, how the Hell he makes you happy, I’m not too sure.” Dean shrugged his shoulders. “But he does and…as long as you’re happy, then we’re happy.” 

“And, to be honest, we missed having our big brother with us. Hunting, just the two of us, has been fine, but…we hate taking the blunt end of all the injuries. That’s supposed to be your job,” Sam said with a small smirk in the corner of his lips. 

(Y/N) felt a lump appear in his throat as he looked between Sam and Dean. Tears formed in his eyes, but he was quick to wipe them away. Without saying anything, he walked over to the two of them and wrapped his arms around them. They returned the hug, placing their hands on the top of his back. 

“I love you idiots so much,” he whispered as he blinked the tears away. 

“I love you, too.” they both replied in a voice that matched his. 

When they pulled away from the embrace, (Y/N)’s hands stayed on their shoulders. He looked between the two of them. 

“Does that mean I can come back?” He asked. “I missed my memory foam mattress.” 

Sam rolled his eyes while Dean chuckled. “We wouldn’t have it any other way,” he replied. “And, when we get back, you can clean yourself up. You look homeless.” 

(Y/N) laughed and ran his fingers through his hair and beard, which were both longer than what he was normally comfortable with. “I don’t know. I kind of like my new look. Needs to be cleaned up, but I’m kind of digging it.” 

Dean clenched his teeth in a disgusted expression. “Whatever works for you, man,” he patted (Y/N)’s back. 

Sam chuckled. “How about we get the Hell out of here, guys? We can come back in the morning to burn the bodies.” 

“Sounds good to me.” (Y/N) nodded. “And how about some burgers? On me.” 

“You’re speaking my language, brother,” Dean smirked. “Now help me out to the damn car. That vampire did a number on me.” 

(Y/N) wrapped an arm around Dean’s torso and wrapped Dean’s arm around the back of his neck. He began to lead him outside, allowing Dean to lean against him as they stumbled over the corpses on the way out. 

It was hard being an older brother, especially when you had two younger brothers who looked up to you. (Y/N) loved Crowley more than most things, but he loved his brothers the most. It was his job to protect them. He would go to the ends of the Earth for his brothers, hunt down anyone who hurt them, and even die for them. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for them. When he found happiness in Crowley, he didn’t want Sam and Dean to look at him as a failure. To hear that Sam and Dean had finally accepted their relationship made (Y/N)’s heart jump for joy. He had his brothers back, and he had his lover waiting for him. 

(Y/N) could confidently say that he was the happiest man on Earth. 

[im-just-a-little-freak]

(previous ask anon) OHH MYY GODDDD i found another person that has headcanons?!?!? my few predcrushs are both of them

yess I found another one!!! Yeessssssssssssssssss

(Predcannons under the cut)

(Aziraphale🍣)

-he’s very polite about it, makes sure your comfortable (even if you’re not willing)

-definitely offers prey food and tea before and maybe after he swallows them up, even if you’re an angel/demon.

-normally only swallows people to comfort them or give them a place to sleep, he’s nice and warm inside.

-it’s harder to tell if he’s actually holding prey inside, he wears thick fabrics and is already a bit big, so no one can tell (unless the prey is over a third of his size, then he’s a little chubby)

-he won’t tell anyone but Crowley if he’s holding anyone, mostly because what he’s doing is impossible to humans in-universe but also because you’d probably like to stay hidden inside, and he understands.

-100% reads to prey inside, like, imagine your midway to falling asleep already and all of a sudden you hear the very polite angel who swallowed you whole reading a series of unfortunate events.

-I feel like he’d drink tea or hot chocolate while someone is inside his belly, unless they ask him not to, he understands if you don’t want to be covered in a warm sweet liquid.

-I have a whole mental image of him sitting in a chair, blanket over his lap, holding a cup of tea and quietly reading, and then just feels a prey inside his belly moving, smiles warmly and gently rubs at his stomach

-his insides are dark blue and look like they have stars on the lining, it is very warm and soft inside.

(Crowley🐍)

-he’s a bit mean okay I’m gonna warn you.

-will desperately try and convince you he’s evil (he’s not digesting you and your warm, safe and comfortable in his belly)

-he’s built like a twig, so if he dose consume prey, unless they’re tiny, it’s noticeable.

-licks! He won’t tell you if he wants to eat you, at all, but will try and signal to you by licking you (his tongue is forked) or he just swallows you whole.

-he will definitely tell you you’ll be alright, but might let you freak out for a second.

-he has done this many times throughout the years, and first tempted Aziraphale to do it at one point.

-during his time as a dark knight he’d pretended to be a dragon (just a huge snake) and kidnapped multiple people and swallowed them, before caughing them up a while later.

-doesn’t act it but is a very protective pred, someone other then aziraphale tries to touch his slightly larger stomach with a person inside and he’s hissed and foaming at the mouth to scare them off.

-in a more feral au he would bring aziraphale prey to flirt with him, then cuddle up to him (he’s a snake he needs warmth)

-speaking of warmth he becomes really cozy if the prey is warm, just laying on a couch dramatically, gently rubbing the tiny warmth radiating inside the slight bump in his abdomen.

-stomach is black, might look like an oil leak inside, a bit tighter then Aziraphal but still very comfortable.

(A bit more)

If they both have prey inside they cuddle up to each other, Crowley is honestly very happy neither prey are outside of this this because he’ll just melt into putty after a while.

(also Crowley doesn’t mind being prey for aziraphale much)

also Muriel didn’t know what vore was and was totally okay when aziraphale/Crowley swallowed them up, they didn’t know how mortal bodies worked and just kept talking to them

[the-ineffable-dance]

Innocent Questions

Summary:

Ever since his Fall, the demon Crowley has been Hell's go-to for temptations. Because Crowley understands better than anyone... it always starts with a few innocent question.

Chapter 1: About an Apple

Excerpt:

“Good morning,” the serpent said, stretching himself in her direction as he kept his tail curled around the branch he rested in, letting his head break through the leaves that hid him from view. With a surprised “Oh!” the woman turned, a brilliant white smile lighting up her face. “Good morning,” she replied. Slowly she moved forward, no fear causing her to hesitate as she closed the distance and put her face close to the dark snout. The light glinted off of two needlelike fangs that dripped down the sides of his snout. He flicked his tongue again, tasting the innocence that rolled off of her skin. “I haven’t seen you yet.” “No, indeed… well, it’s a big place,” the serpent said, keeping his yellow eyes steadily on hers. “But s’nice to meet you."

Big thanks to my fantastic beta readers: @your-absent-father @akiwitch and @mauvelilywilliams

[reigningqueenofwords]

Bruce

Word count: 1,536

Read on AO3

Part 3 of Hello There

After your ‘meeting’ with the Winchesters, you had gotten to the play just in time. It had been a lovely evening, but how things at went at the bar still had on feeling weird. “Crowley?” You said softly as the two of you walked down the street.

He glanced at you. “Yes, love?” His tone was so very different than when he was around the Winchesters.

“Could I stay in hell tonight? I just have a funny feeling, ya know?” You tried to find the words to explain, but you just couldn’t. “It’s like they were checking on me not to see if I was okay, but to see if I’d changed. I don’t know.” You wrapped your arms around yourself.

He smiled at you. “You’re always welcome in Hell. Alive. No dying on me.” Crowley teased. “No need to explain. They must assume since you’ve been spending time with me that you must be evil or something.” He rolled his eyes. “I don’t know how their minds work.” Neither did you.

You smiled back. “Thanks. Movie night tonight?” You asked, hopeful. Many of the nights you spent in hell turned into movie nights.

Smirking, he snapped his fingers. You were both in your room in hell, you in your pajamas, and him, well, in his suit. “Do you own anything other than that?” You teased, sitting on the end of the bed. “Pajamas? Lounge pants? Jeans?” You’d love to see him in jeans.

“Are you trying to tell me something?” He asked with a grin.

“Maybe.” You shrugged. “You end up falling asleep in here anyway, might as well be comfortable.” Although when you woke up, he was always gone. You never knew if he simply went to his own room or what.

Sighing dramatically, he snapped his fingers once more. He was now in black lounge pants and a grey t-shirt. You couldn’t help but show your surprise. “Wow. Who knew the King of Hell could pull off anything other than a well tailored suit?” You teased. It was nice knowing that he liked you enough to let you talk to him like that. “So, what would you like to watch tonight?” You asked, moving to sit against the headboard.

Crowley shrugged. “What are you in the mood for?” He sat next to you. As always, he crossed his ankles gracefully, folding his hands in his lap. You always wondered why he was so damn formal around you. Not like you cared about all that.

“Didn’t I just ask you what you wanted to watch. No turning this around on me, Crowley.” You stuck your tongue out at him.

“You’re lucky I like you.” He chuckled. “Not many get away with talking to me like you do.” That you already knew.

You laughed. “I’m just special. I know.” You were joking, honestly not knowing why he kept you around. He suddenly got up, making you look at him funny. “I just remembered I need to go check on the hellhounds.” Crowley lied, snapping back into his normal clothes. “I’ll pop you back on the surface in the morning if you’d like.”

“Yeah, sure…” You tried to hide your disappointment. “I think I should just get some rest, anyway.” Without waiting for a reply, you rolled on your side and pulled up your blankets. Your back was to him, so you didn’t see the look in his eyes.

Crowley walked out, leaving you to wonder what you’d done. You weren’t acting any different than usual. Was he tiring of you? Sighing, you forced yourself to get some sleep.

The next morning, you were woken up by a long lick to the face. Covering your head with a pillow, you heard a low whine. That was new. Moving the pillow and sitting up, you were confused. You didn’t see anything. That’s it, you were going insane. You were sure of it. Stretching, you moved to get out of bed, hearing a small ‘thud’, like something falling off the bed. “Crowley?!?!” You yelled, slightly panicked.

He came rushing in, worry on his face. “What’s wrong?” He asked.

“I’m going crazy.” He looked at you funny. “I’m hearing things, and feeling things. I swear I felt a dog lick me this morning, and I heard one whine.” You’d never been near the hellhounds, so you didn’t even think about them.

“Oh. That’s Bruce.” He said with a shrug.

“….Bruce?” You repeated.

Crowley snapped his fingers, making you see the hellhound that was sitting by your feet. “I won’t be around as much, so I’m giving you Bruce.” He nodded his chin towards the hellhound, who was currently laying on his back. You couldn’t help but chuckle at that.

Then it hit you. He wouldn’t be around? “Wait. Why won’t you be around?” You asked.

“Work. That’s all.” You knew he was lying, but decided to not push it. Your heart clenched.

“Okay. Well. Let me change and you can pop me to the bunker.” If he was ditching you, you wanted to at least let the Winchesters know you were alive. Then you could move along, apparently with a hellhound in tow. He nodded, snapping his fingers. You were currently in a jeans and t-shirts. Did he want you gone that fast? “I guess I’ll see you around, huh?” You said, not even believing yourself.

“Yeah. I’ll come see you soon, love.” He said, a small smile on his face. Snapping his fingers, all three of you were outside the bunker.

Looking at him, you raised an eyebrow. “Plan on dropping me off like a kid who’s parents are divorced?” You asked.

“I have news for the wonder twins.” He said simply. You just made an 'oh’ face.

When Dean opened the door, he was surprised to see you. “Y/N?” He asked.

You gave him a small wave. “I just wanted to let you know I’m alive. I’m gonna be on my own for a bit, so just let me know if you need any help.” He could tell something was off between the two of you.

“Oh, you won’t be alone, you have Bruce.” Crowley snapped.

That took you by surprise. “Yeah. Sorry. I’ll have Bruce.” Seeing Dean’s look, you sighed. “He gave me a hellhound since apparently he won’t be around much.” You shrugged.

“Uh-huh. Well, you can come in. Sam’s in the library. Is…Bruce….with you?” He asked. You nodded and he sighed. “I guess Bruce can come, too.” Dean stepped aside and let you in. Once you were past, he blocked the door again. “What do you want?”

Crowley gave him a bored face. “I have some information for you.” He informed him. “There’s rumors spreading about a large gathering of witches in the north east part of New York. Planning something big. Witches are flying in from all over. From what I’ve gathered, they aren’t being too quiet about it, either.” Dean nodded. “And?”

“That means that you and Moose need to get up there and find out what exactly they’re planning, and stop them.” He sighed.

“Why do you need us to do this? Why can’t you?”

“Apparently, they’ve warded their base. You’re human.” Crowley pointed out. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must…go elsewhere.”

“You aren’t going to say goodbye to Y/N?” Dean asked, suspicious. Crowley simply snapped his fingers and vanished. Dean slammed the door and stalked off. “Y/N!” He yelled, finding you in the library with Sam, looking upset. “What’s with the King of Douches?”

You glared at him. “I don’t know. I must have said something last night, because he’s been acting weird since.” You shrugged.

Sam looked confused. “What could you have possibly said to make him act differently towards you? I mean, hours before he was jumping to your defense. Now he’s dropping you off–”

“With a hellhound.” Dean cut in, causing Sam to stare at him.

“…With a hellhound, apparently, and saying he’s not going to be around much…”

“He mentioned last night that I’m lucky he likes me, that not many talk to him like I do. I laughed and jokingly said I’m special. Suddenly, he got up, said he had to check on the hellhounds, and left.” You told them, looking between the two of them. “So, I guess he doesn’t want me feeling that way. I don’t know. I’ll be out of your hair soon, guys.” You didn’t want to them to think you were back because Crowley got bored with you.

Dean shook his head. “Nah. We have a hunt. Could use your help. I don’t think Bruce can go, though.” Dean shrugged.

“Bruce?”

“Her pet hound, I guess. Wait, can you actually see him?” Dean asked, looking at you.

You nodded. “Yeah. He woke me up this morning and I thought I was going insane. Crowley made it so I can see him after. He’s actually kinda cute. In a weird way.” Your eyes shot to where the dog was currently rolling around on the ground near Sam. “….I’m thinking he’s a puppy.” A big puppy, but a puppy. They just looked at you, surprised to hear a hunter had a hellhound for a pet.

[quillomens]

Book Omens Week Day 3: Historical

I'm catching up since I thought the week was cancelled. Haha. I THINK I'll have day 4 up today, though! It continues from this one.

Summary: The first time they got married was only a few hundred years after the Garden. It wouldn't be the last.

HERE ON AO3

Over the next few days, watch out for: ancient Sumer! The Round Table! Leo da Vinci! Piracy! Two Very Lazy Immortal Beings! Paperwork!

----

Sixty years and some change after their second unfortunate meeting, Crowley happened upon the angel while prowling a sort of  cave-village puttering along in Mesopotamia.   

He didn’t panic this time.  He’d been sent to the settlement because an angel was there, so he hadn’t been quite so startled this time around.  He also slinked up slowly, watching (and tongue twitching beyond his lips every now and then), which helped his reptile brain report, “This is that Eastern Gate fellow.”   

So instead of panic and discorporation, Crowley was able to slide up, smooth and cool, and say, “How’s it going there, oh, Angel of the Lord?” 

The angel jumped, which was very gratifying.  About time an angel was nervous about him.  

The angel’s currently dark brows drew together before his expression cleared.  “Crawly?” he asked, and then, before Crowley could correct him, “No, it’s Crowley, isn’t it?” 

Crowley was gratified again.  “It is.  And you’re Aziraphale.”  He tried to sound casual.  Maybe he’d asked around.  Maybe he just knew things.   

Aziraphale turned his eyes back to the foul-smelling but good natured mortals as they went about their business.  The two of them were visible, not not…noticeable.  Nothing interesting here, please go on about you pre-historical business.  “It’s been some time.” 

“’Bout 60 years.”  Crowley had spent nine of them doing punishment paperwork and other, less enjoyable, things for so quickly wasting a corporation.  But the last fifty hadn’t been so bad, back on earth.  He was finding Earth highly preferable to hell, and didn’t understand why most demons bellyached about assignments on the first floor (so to speak). “What brings you here?  Spreading a little miracle or three?  Light of grace and all that good stuff?” 

“Observing, mostly.  I’m rather between assignments at the moment.”  The angel glanced over.  “You?” 

“Oh, sent here to kill you, I reckon.” 

One brow rose alone this time.  The gray-blue eyes were a little incongruous with his current coloring, but who was Crowley to point out glass houses?  “Oh?  And how are you planning to do that?  Another epic bout of clumsiness.” 

Crowley probably should have scowled, but found himself grinning instead.  Not bad! Most angels were painfully boring.  ….At that, so were most demons.  “Maybe.  Want to stand near a handy fire for me?”   

The angel made a show of considering it before settling on, “No, I think not.  I don’t need any more paperwork or nasty notes.” 

Crowley would (pretend to) kill for a nasty note.  Bet there were no boils and papercuts in heaven.  

“Ah, well.  Guess I’ll just slink downstairs then.” 

Crowley didn’t move.  They kept standing there, side by side.   

“Did you know,” Aziraphale said after several minutes of oddly comfortable silence, “that they’ve started little pairing ceremonies?” 

Crowley shot him a look.  “What now?” 

“Well, you know how some of the animals pair off for life?  And others don’t?  Humans are similar, yes?  Some pair off, like Adam and Eve, others don’t.” 

“Rrrrright.”  Crowley scratched at a flea trying to set up house in the long fall of his hair.  “Hell’s undecided on that one.  Seems to fit with a sort of heavenly chastity on one side, but the way two people can make each other miserable?  Full marks.” 

The angel gave him a censorious frown.  Crowley spread his hands with demonic innocence, as if to say, “Above my pay grade, good sir.”   

Had the movement been invented and imbued with meaning at the time, Aziraphale would have rolled his eyes.  As it was, he just said, “Well, be that as it may, they’ve created this little ritual for it, and it’s rather sweet.” 

A minor miracle caused every flea in the vicinity to go up in tiny flames.  

“Ritual?  What, skulls and blood and feet of newts?”  Crowley tried to look pleased, though the whole concept actually made him a bit queasy.  He couldn’t shake the feeling that “feather of demon” or “eye of serpent” would one day be popular for these “little rituals” of the humans’.   

“No, no, nothing so disturbing.  Just a sort of speech and a promise.”   

“Oh.”  Crowley wrinkled his nose.  He was fond of a good nose wrinkle these days.  Couldn’t pull that off as a snake.  “Sounds boring.” 

“It’s sweet!” Aziraphale argued.  He looked decidedly put-out, as if the opinion of this semi-random demon was of some importance in his angelic brain.  Then he clearly came to a decision and, without so much as a “Mary may I?” wrapped his hand about Crowley’s wrist and pulled him into the bustle of humanity. 

Crowley should have protested, maybe popped a little hellfire, but he was so surprised by being touched without an intent to cause pain (it had been so long) that he shamedly just let his enemy drag him on.  

They stopped in front of a woman – older, heavy set, stripes on her stomach and gray in her hair.  She wore little in the heat, but she had several necklaces of shell and bone, painted with red clay, that were unique among the humans.  Someone of importance, then?   

She clearly recognized the angel and greeted him with a smile and a fair approximation of his name.   

“Hello,” he said back, his smile warm but his voice officious.  “Lovely to see you again.”   

“It was only this morning,” she said, a sparkle of mischief in her eyes that Crowley wholeheartedly approved of.  “I’m not so old as all that.” 

“Of course not!  You’re a lovely young woman.”  Crowley shot Aziraphale a look.  He thought perhaps the angel was being sincere.  Still figuring out aging, was he?   

The human chuckled warmly. “Now then, young charmer, what do you require my help with?”  

“I would like you to show the pairing ceremony,” Aziraphale motioned to Crowley, “to my,” he stopped a moment, frowning.  Crowley watched with some amusement. My enemy was hardly the way to introduce someone without causing suspicion.  After a beat, he settled on, “companion.” 

The human’s eyebrows rose in a riot of wrinkles.  “The pairing ceremony?” 

“Yes.  I told him it’s quite lovely, but he has his doubts.” 

Dark eyes glanced between them.  “I hardly think it is appropriate to perform the ceremony for someone who isn’t certain.” 

“Oh, I’m certain enough,” Crowley drawled.  Clearly it existed, since they were talking about it. 

The old woman eyed them again, gaze assessing.  Then she raised her shoulders dismissively – he'd seen that a few times now, wasn’t entirely certain what it meant to them – clapped her chapped hands, and said, “Might as well!” in a cheerful voice.  

Aziraphale gave Crowley a smug look.  Crowley stared at him, annoyingly unblinking.   

(Later, Crowley would miss those early days, when his eyes hardly merited comment.  The woman had looked at them, of course, but passed on readily.) 

The woman motioned to a young man, who jogged off to gather a few supplies.  She chatted easily with Aziraphale as they waited, and offered a handful of figs to them both.  Aziraphale took them immediately.  Crowley was more hesitant, but gave in when Aziraphale bit into one with clear enjoyment.   

And here he thought angels didn’t eat. 

They were so delicious (he hadn’t properly had figs; they were sweeter than he  that the boy was painting a stripe of clay on his forehead before he realized they’d started.   

“Wait-” he started to say, but the woman shushed him and Aziraphale sent him a look for interrupting.  He fell silent, listening to the simple words.  The gist was all about support – looking out for the other person, working to keep the other person safe, providing comfort. 

It was lovely, though he was loathe to admit it.  A nice idea, having someone to depend on and spend time with.  He couldn’t remember much about heaven, but hell certainly wasn’t known for its comradery.   Shame it wasn’t real- 

The woman took his hand and placed it on top of the angel’s.   

Crowley jumped as if burned – expecting, really, to be burned, that was the rumor – and saw Aziraphale flinch as well.  But. 

Nothing happened. 

The skin was unusually soft, given angels didn’t work, but beyond that, it was just a hand.   

Their eyes met briefly, yellow to gray. 

“And may you protect each other until the end of your days,” the woman said, taking their two hands in her strong, leathery ones.   

Crowley saw, in Aziraphale’s eyes, the moment the angel realized what he had. 

This was not a demonstration. 

It was a ceremony. 

He couldn’t help it.  Crowley threw his head back and laughed, startling the woman, the demon, and several people in the vicinity with the underlying hiss he hadn’t learned to control yet.  It was an inhuman laugh, and an inhuman smile, and the angel frowned at him, but he couldn’t help it.  It wasn’t real, not truly.  They weren’t human, and human ceremonies didn’t mean anything in heaven or hell, but- 

An angel bound to a demon just to make a point? 

Hilarious! 

Aziraphale sighed deeply, the old woman barked a laugh (“It’s unusual, but some people react like this,” she assured Aziraphale gently as he looked like he might throw up if his corporation would let him), and Crowley grinned, broad and toothy and wild.   

(As long as hell didn’t know, as long as hell never found out, he should be just fine.) 

@book-omens-week

[i-llbedammned]

Stupid Good Omens and having me write angsty porn. https://archiveofourown.org/works/49071904

Title: Just Tonight Wordcount: 1275 Crowley was there, just there. Lips pressed against his, grabbing his collar. And oh sweet light it felt good, better than it had any right to feel. It was angry, it was painful but it still felt right, like something that should have been there since the beginning. Almost without meaning to Aziraphale opened his mouth, shoving his tongue into Crowley’s mouth a little deeper, feeling the wonderful forking of his tongue. He pulled him closer, just a little, pressing his hand tightly to his back. “Stay with me, angel,” growled Crowley, breaking the kiss but still staying so close by. “I-I can’t. You know I can’t.” Aziraphale breathily replied, hands past Crowley’s thin shoulders and holding on to the front of the suit jacket. “I want to, but I can’t.” He felt the demon pull away, begin to get distance. No, that wouldn’t do either.  Despite the tears already welling in his eyes, he rushed forward. Put his hands on either side of Crowley’s head as the demon began to turn away and pressed his lips to the demon’s. Gentle, insistent kisses. Like he was trying to drink in this moment for all it was worth. He found his hands moving down, under the demon’s suit jacket and grasping him close. Crowley felt warm, like the sun on a decent spring day when it kissed your skin just right. “I can’t stay, but we have now.” “It will change nothing.” Crowley looked through his glasses at the angel, not questioning. A growling statement. “No, no I suppose it won’t.” Aziraphale looked away but he felt Crowley pressing closer, closer. His legs backed up til his back was against the bookshelf. The demon’s hips pressed against his, bony frame taut against Aziraphale .A long tongue ran against Aziraphale’s neck, making him moan softly as his eyelids fluttered closed. The angel wound his hands in the demon’s hair and once more let his lips find Crowley’s. More, more. Hands quick, darting like vipers were under his tan coat, urging it off. Aziraphale let it fall to the floor, but didn’t open his eyes. Even after the kiss was broken, he kept his eyes closed for a few moments, savoring the sensation of hands moving over his body and the rough sound of his own breath. Aziraphale’s silver-blue eyes opened and Crowley was looking down at him hungrily, a wicked grin dancing upon his face. “Show me how you want me, angel.” “You-you already know I do.” “Yeah, but” Crowley’s face scrunched up, “Show me. If I’m only going to have tonight, I really want to hear it.” “Oh you are a miserable demon!” Aziraphale growled, but he pressed his lips to the nape of Crowley’s neck. With a little force he bit down, leaving a small trail of tiny bites. His soft hands untied the silver tie around Crowley’s neck and he felt his pulse quicken. This was hardly Aziraphale’s only time with someone like this, but oh it was demon and worse than that it was Crowley. Crowley, encouraged by the bites, moved quickly, unbuttoning his vest then Aziraphale’s vest. Vests off, followed by shirts. Bare chest to bare chest now, mouths desperately moving against one another like they would never see each other again. Which they might not. Belts off, though when things were moving this quickly it was hard to tell who moved first. Then pants came off and underwear. Two bare forms, clasping each other tightly, kissing each other desperately. Crowley manifested first, choosing a lovely cock for himself. Aziraphale followed in suit, deciding on a wider member but of similar length. Almost reverently Aziraphale moved his hands to Crowley’s cock, giving it a stroke that made the demon gasp. Crowley went to return the favor but Aziraphale knocked his hands aside. “Let me taste you, dear boy.” The angel dropped to his knees. “Please.” The glasses came off Crowley as he looked down at him, feeling himself harden under the insistent strokes. “Let me. Let me sit down first.”Crowley let his long legs flow downward and halfway lay down upon the bookshop floor. Always his snake eyes stayed upon Aziraphale, who stood now looking down upon him with an impish grin. The angel laughed, a small thing but a contrast to the tears that would be to come. He dropped to his knees and began to crawl forward. With a devious grin he licked the entire length of Crowley, releasing a deep hiss of pleasure. “Oh you are being so good, my dear boy.” Aziraphale whispered, taking the member deep into his throat slowly before Crowley had time to respond. Long fingers wound through his blonde hair as he took Crowley again and again into his throat. Meaningless whispers in tongues that no longer were spoken by the tongues of man but were certainly moaned in pleasure on the floor of a bookstore. Over and over again. “Oh fuck, Aziraphale. Oh angel, oh yes.” Crowley writhed, drinking in with utter joy the look of Aziraphale’s mouth upon him. The angel inserted two fingers into Crowley’s rear and the demon arrived, spurting cum on the floor of the bookstore. Aziraphale crawled on the ground, letting his tongue find every bit of cum and eagerly drank it, from the floor or from Crowley’s hips.

“Turn around, dear boy. Let me have a go at it.” “No.” “Wh-what?”The angel kept working his fingers inside, slow steady pulses as Crowley gently pushed him to the ground. The demon climbed on top of him, positioning himself over his member. “I need to see your face. I need it, angel.” A small bit of miracle for some olive oil, just to make things easier to slide in. Into Crowley he gently went as the demon swung his hips downward. Oh sweet light he looked beautiful like this. “You don’t know how often I dreamed of this.” Aziraphale gasped as the angel’s hips began to thrust. “Certainly were silent enough about those dreams.” Crowley grunted. Kisses, deep kisses that made Aziraphale want to cry and scream and never leave this bookshop. For a moment Crowley’s dream seemed so perfect, on the floor in the misty afternoon light. Just them. Together. That was all it needed to be. “Hells bells, you are beautiful when you are being fucked. Tell me how did my cock taste?“ Crowley was insistent with his hips. “It was truly divine.” Aziraphale panted out. Crowley’s hands were around his face now, cradling his chin, his neck, pressing his chest down into the floor. Harder, harder. Faster, faster. Aziraphale felt something twinge in him, a great pressure that rose up and then burst as he spilled his seed deep within the demon. Crowley watched his face, moaning with pleasure, watching him carefully and trying to inscribe every look to memory. “I-Crowley. That was. That was.” Aziraphale started, but couldn’t finish a thought. Unmanifested genitals but both still bare upon the floor as Crowley placed another kiss upon his lips. This one gentle. He thought Aziraphale would stay and a sinking pit of guilt slipped into Aziraphale’s stomach. He told him from the outset this would change nothing, that he still had to go away. Even though he didn’t want to. Yet all the same the demon hoped against hope that he would change his mind. It broke Aziraphale’s heart. The angel got up, feeling the tears begin to return. “Just one minute, I’m going to get a drink of water.” Miracled up clothes. Quickly, quickly. Before Crowley could see him and he would lose his resolve. This was the one chance to change everything. He only hoped Crowley would forgive him in the end.

[thingsjusthappensometimes]

Coping As Best He Can ----------------------------

Fandom: Good Omens CW: Self Loathing, Self Medicating, Alcohol Use, Cannabis Use, Angst, Spoilers for S2 Length: Ficlet (722 words)

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

Crowley used to love getting drunk. 

Sure, it was always bittersweet getting pissed with Aziraphale, when he’d get to that warm and fuzzy sweet spot where every shift of fabric, every movement of the warm arm next to him would make him ache.  But it was more over good.  It was fun.  Getting drunk now was signing up for a quick trip to sad sack lane.  It made him moody (or moodier than usual).  It made him angry in that dark and jilted way he hadn’t felt since after The Fall.  Drinking wasn’t pleasant now.  Now, it was almost masochistic. 

If anyone had asked what it felt like, drunk and burning from hurt, he’d have waved it off that he was already over it. If he was in a particularly open mood, he may have ventured to claim the anger that came up while drunk was all directed at Aziraphale.  These things weren’t entirely wrong, they were simply layers.  And if you kept stripping them back, you’d get to the core of him, the weeping black wound at his center that was kept stuffed up with gauze at all times.  When he drank, the wound oozed.  His brain ran, and when he was alone, the thoughts ran out of his brain and onto his tongue which hissed them miserably into stale air: “You worthless piece of shit, of course he wouldn’t choose you. Who would?” 

Worthless. Nothing. Useless.  Forsaken.  Forgotten.  Pointless. 

He’d try and swallow the ichor that was rather pouring from the wound, bursting out the gauze under the heady influence of drink.  It was easy to dab up the remnants of a seeping leak.  A gushing of pain was much harder to control when you didn’t even realize the dam had broken until you were already drowning. 

Pointless.  Useless.  Unforgiveable.  Evil. Evil. Evil. 

No one wants you. 

Rage was easier to feel than terror. Than hurt. 

It was easier to scream, and kick, and smash things than to sit with the wound and willingly drown.  It’s against any beings nature, to willingly drown, celestial and occult as well as natural.  All Her doing.  Wouldn’t be smart design without some failsafes. 

If he had taken some time to think, really think he’d have realized how ludicrous the whole thing was.  It wasn’t really drowning.  He wasn’t at risk of death.  Of true dissolution gone-forever-from-the-world death. 

But that didn’t stop the impulses to fight and kick and thrash and stay alive whenever the thoughts made him want to do anything but. 

He stopped drinking. 

It was a little difficult at first, breaking a nearly 6000 year old habit, but it got easier after the day when the horrible hangover was easier than the night before. 

It got even easier when he switched it out for cannabis. 

Cannabis use dates back to the dawn of time (clever humans), and he’d dabbled in his day. 

It was alright, getting high, but Aziraphale had never quite taken to it as he had to getting drunk.  A drunk Aziraphale was typically (barring a serious situation like, per say, discussing what to do with the recently delivered antichrist) a very amenable drunk.  Sometimes he could be downright affectionate. 

Crowley had only smoked cannabis with the angel once, a long time ago, but the blank and panicked look that stretched long across Aziraphale’s face was enough for him to guess this wouldn’t be one of the hedonist’s preferred pleasures. 

Crowley hadn’t thought about cannabis for a long time, and it hadn’t even been in consideration after Aziraphale left.  But on a whim, he’d passed some young folks under a bridge and taken up their easy offer to join their circle.

He was irritable from a particularly dull sober night, and was fully planning to create as much drama within the friend group as he possibly could in order to lift his spirits a little. 

After a few rounds of passing the joint around, though, he was partly alarmed to find himself loose and comfortable. Almost amenable, as dirty as the word sounded.  He learned about Kari’s terrible boyfriend, laughed genuinely at Matt’s terrible Piers Morgan impression, and found himself walking away from the group two hours later than he had ever expected to spend. 

As soon as he got home he ordered a few packs of edibles online.

[self-loathing-angel-of-thursday2]

Beautiful Spouse’s Rewatch Thoughts SPN 06x19 Mommy Dearest

“We need to make AI take all of Dean’s face journey and have it write a story that can only be told by stringing those clips together. How many hours are there of Dean’s face? Something something Dean Derangement” “I need to rub one out; too much Dean” 

we had to pause so Spouse could shave his face which is a normal and important thing to do at 9:51pm on a Friday night and not do what he actually said he was going to do

“Smoldering ass” “Fuck that bitch up” ““$3? It was $2.50 in college at the local brewery” “Did she just murder his ass? I don’t remember” “Almost like one of the horseman things” “LOAD ALL” reading the shell equipment

“That’s one hell of a dehydrated load” “Took you all week to make 5 shells?” “laughed at the Cas in his ass joke” “They said ass a lot”

Rewound to the Cas ass comment

“If he’s in his ass, what’s the bottle you need to rub to get the genie out?” I believe it’s called the prostate

“This vampire lady’s voice is similar to Meg’s voice” “Death by cop? But I guess Cas got her so it worked out” laughter “sure” “That was a weird transition” “Little zoom out effect wasn’t my thing” “worst nickname ever. Smitey McSmiterden?” laughter

“They’re making poop jokes” “He’s blocked like a blocked bowel” That was mean

“Yeah” “Had to go federal” “they could have made that joke so much better. It was funny but it could have been better. It was in the delivery” “Cas’s hair isn’t as on point today so maybe that’s why” “This is a weird episode” “Dick” “the fuck is going on?” “they’re lying to this guy about the ambulance” “oopsie” “Oh yeah, she touched everything” “nice” “Only the chosen ones survive?” “What a mess” “I wonder how much oxyclean Hollywood uses everyday” “Ant people” “Who hates Jefferson Starship that much?” “They’re not going to bother with the scene? Just leave a ton of bodies behind” “nice” “I like the reflection in the glass shot.” “Couldn’t use a one-syllable word? It’s like two syllables and two words. It doesn’t flow off the tongue very well” “Way to get locked into a cell so easy” laughter “blood splatter” “Cas is covered in blood. He can heal instantly but doesn’t care about his clothes?” He looks good covered in blood

“Seriously?” “this got real weird real quick” “it’s some imagery of them when they were younger. They had this momentum going then a brick wall” “This is a weird way to look at Castiel without hair. His hair is going to fall out and become bald” “This is weird as fuck” “That was dark” “That bitch gets what he wants” “He’s missing his head. Rigorous is one way of wording it” “since when are shotgun shells made out of brass?” “How many diners do they walk into in this show?” “I’d love to know how many unique diners they set up” “That’s not what the name tag says” “What’s wrong with dragons, Dean? Dragons are awesome” “Speaking of dragons, they don’t go back to medieval times” “Just a few huh?” “Oh yeah. I figured one of these kids were bad in the car” “Fuck that shit” “quick pan off to the family. oh no! Blood splatter. Yay!” “Oh yeah we’re supposed to fell bad because of the mirror or whatever”

Laughter

“That was good. I didn’t see that coming” “This is very dramatic. They did that all in post though. They kept just zooming in” “It was all digital zoom and bullshit” “Thanks, bro” “Not going to thank him?” “Man, you’re a fkn angel of the lord thing and you let these two little dudes boss you around?” “Hello Crowley”

“Oh not yet. I thought he’d be right there” “Come on. Zoom out a little bit.” “Come back. I need to stare at your throat some more” “The face” “Ohshit” “What’s he going to do? Doctorize all these people?” “He just needs the briefcase and stethoscope” “oh mommy” “Shit”

[bibliphale]

lord , do forgive me , it was just far too easy. it was quite sinful of me , especially when it would've been so easy to avoid this , not bait him into it. oh , but i was weak , i was such a weak creature. the noise i made 'gainst crowley's mouth was anything but innocent , arching myself desperately closer as i grabbed at the back of his crimson hair , tangling into the otherwise neatly styled depths , the other hand dragging down the smooth plains of his narrow back , grasping at his backside as i pulled him closer. don't stop , don't you dare stop. i remembered , hazily , the last time we'd been this hungry for each other.

it couldn't've been that long ago .. maybe a year or two. staying hyper focused on warlock's upbringing had kept us distracted , more or less constantly distanced from each other , so when we had a select few moments to share , i just couldn't keep my hands off of him. my lips , my tongue ; was this how humans felt , when they were at the height of passion , of attraction , or were we somehow worse ? eternal creatures , locked together forever in a constant cycle of teeth & tongue. one of my legs hooked 'round the angular jut of crowley's hip , dragging him roughly forward again , breaking our fevered kiss to breathe.

my head fell back 'gainst the brick wall as i panted , squeezing my eyes shut as i willed the burning flush of heat away from my cheeks. oh , if he was any closer to me , we'd end up becoming one whole being.                    ❛            mm .. okay .. okay not nice .. nng , heavens .. got it.            ❜                    i was breathless , pleasantly sated , my lips aching from how hard he'd kissed me , especially my lower one , which i carefully glided my tongue across in search of the taste of him. focus , aziraphale , focus. my eyes reluctantly opened , pupils blown , cheeks flushed , my hands moving to each cup the sides of crowley's face , holding him close to mine as my hooded gaze swept over his features.

                   ❛            then how can i thank you properly , hm ? i mean .. without you , my jacket would still be quite stained ..            ❜                    i parted my swollen lips slightly , mimicking him as i nuzzled our noses together slowly , hands moving to both glide down the front of @n1atruc's chest , creating slight distance between us only to allow my leg to fall from his waist , drifting between each of his thighs as i fell back 'gainst the wall , arching slightly to push our hips together again with a sultry grin curling 'pon my jaws. focusing .. what was i supposed to be focusing on ?

𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐅𝐔𝐑𝐘 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐁𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐀 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄; or maybe a volcanic eruption, devastating everything in it's ruthless wake as it crawls menacingly o'er the earth, river of molten rock [ ... ] crowley's anger was quick and white hot, like a crack upon the knuckles. rather, ( 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 ) like when lightning strikes an open field. SURGE OF PAINFULLY RESTLESS ENERGY SURGES, FROTHS, AND SPILLS OVER IN THE BLINK OF AN EYE! thin lips curl o'er teeth, and he audibly snarls before lunging forward and gathering the angel up by fistfuls of his coat lapels: driving him back roughly against a wall. ❛   ────SHUT IT! ❜

perhaps if he were of a more conniving, considerate character, the demon might have been able to recognize ( 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚒𝚡 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚜 ) when he was being baited. alas! as he has before, and furthermore as he probably always would, he dives in head first. a whirlwind of rough hands, dark clothes, and glowering sulfur eyes that might not be able to be seen underneath dark glasses ... but they can certainly be felt. ❛   i'm a demon, i'm not NICE! i'm NEVER nice! nice is a four-lettered word, i will not be ─ ngk. ❜

pressure of an elongated digit coiling against serpent's head belt buckle seems to tear away his voice like tissue paper, scattering his sudden burst of fury all over the floor. body twitches almost violently, as though the neurons firing in his brain had all decided to go rogue at one time, ❛   er-- i will not be... ❜ he stammers before remembering himself. by the grit of his teeth, a strong fist draws the angel somewhat forward again, only to bump him back to the wall again in a scramble for his attention. as he does, his narrow hips roll to theirs; chests thud, noses touch. hitch of his breath sounds vaguely like a sharp hiss from his teeth.

he can feel @bibliphale's breath against his face .. it twists his insides into knots. ❛   i don't need your fucking gratitude, angel. ❜ i need your tongue against mine. he growls and lurches forward, mouths colliding clumsily. roughly. the sound of clacking teeth might've been heard from down the hall. ( 𝚏𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚞𝚙𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚊𝚝, 𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕. ) soon, they are visible along the backs of his hands ... and twitching with the drum of his heart upon the side of his neck.

demon breathes a huff out of his nose, rolling serpent tongue along the roof of their mouth & promptly nipping at their lip. perhaps the gesture was a bit harder than he might have otherwise gone for, if only to prove his point: he's not nice. he's never been nice, and he'd be damned if he was going to start being nice now!

[mayullla]

I dont play twisted wonderland, but I wanted to make something for this fandom from reading multiple yan!twst. I kept most things vague, but if I got something wrong about a character tell me. One day when I am finally able to change my phone the first thing i would do is download this game TvT

Edit: I play Twisted Wonderland now-

Tags: fem!reader, child!reader, platonic yandere Characters: School staff

Imagine just a small child was the one who gets taken into twisted wonderland rather than Yuu. The small child doesn't even know where she was as the cat who was surprised kept bugging her with question after queation about how you got here and such.

You cant answer, you didnt even have the answers as you just remember falling asleep on your bed peacefully only to wake up in a huge box opened by a cat.

A talking cat at that.

Dear the stress you gave to the poor thing when you suddenly grabbed the cat's cheeks and just pulled them. Made the poor cat yell in pain.

Crowley found you soon after, shocked to see a small child here in twisted wonderland! As he too started to ask where your parent was and how did you get here even berating the cat for being you here. (The cat Grim just continued to vehemently deny that he was the one who brought you here!!) You could not answer the man, just cheerfully telling the man that you were sleeping in your bed only to wake up here.

After realizing that he can't get any answers from your Crowley just picked you up in his arms as he called the other teachers to his office. 

The other teachers were also surprised when they saw you in Crowley's arms. They had wondered why the headmaster suddenly called for an emergency meeting and expected a few things may have gone wrong or some sort sure...

but a kid??

Sam jokingly asked if you were Crowley's kid that he never told anyone about which Crowley pointedly denied. He soon explained what had happened.

The teachers tried to push you for answers, some almost demanding you to give them till you burst out crying for feeling so much pressure. Professor Mozus suddenly took you away from Crowley's arms comforting you in his arms trying to shush as he glared at the other teachers for being so pushy to a small kid.

Slowly they found out that you were from another realm, not from here and that they cant just easily send you off to your home.

Your family probably thought you were kidnapped at this point!

Crowley had an idea of sending you to an orphanage while he research a way to get you back to your home but reasons aroused that made it impossible to send you away like that.

That the teachers were forced to take care of you.

That would not be a problem at all…. sure…

Who will be taking care of the kid?

It was Mozus who spoke first at the silent atmosphere saying that he would be the one taking care of you tho he would probably occasionally need help if his teacher's duty kept him busy and that was fine with others.

A lot of students were shocked to see you in professor Mozus's arms most of the second years and up have to blink multiple of times or rub their eyes shocked to see a kid with the professor much less smiling at the old guy. The fact that he was also smiling at you made many students believe that this was either a dream or an illusion some choosing to forget the whole thing.

Well, as if that was possible when you follow the old guy to class listening in on the lessons... Listening to the old man or occasionally be seen drawing something while the old man would yell at the student who stared at you for too long.

Sometimes they found you to be with other teachers who looked rather awkward to the fact that they had to watch you. Sometimes they would yell only to hold their tongue when they realize a small child was there in their classroom and might cry like she did last time and they won't be able to fix the situation.

But time went by they grew more and more attached to you. They started to often fight on who you would stay with when Mozus was busy, not only that they started to ask Mozus if he ever wants rest they could help him watch over you. It was suspicious when they do that for Mozus who always deny their offer preferring to be with you than let others take care of you.

It was even annoying when Crowley started to ask Mozus if he could take care of you at that point Mozus's cat would hiss at the headmaster wearing a crow mask daring him not to go near you or even touch you.

Lucius was also the same with the students hissing at those who wanted to talk to you. The more curious students would often try to get close to while the teacher is teaching to ask who you were and if you really were the daughter of professor Mozus or any other questions that had to deal with the rumors floating around not before they were caught by a teacher and shooed away from you.

There were many rumors floating around about you and since they can't go near you and the teachers all give mixed or vague answers none of those rumors were able to be put to rest.

There were rumors where people thought that you were the daughter of Professor Mozus who gave his daughter to the other professors to take care of her every so often. That somehow Professor Mozus had either fallen in love or had a one night stand incident or just something when tho almost nobody could believe that.

Professor Mozus would often smile if asked if you were his daughter about it not denying or accepting the rumors to be true, while other teachers would quickly deny any claims of it which only made things all the more suspicious really. (Tho everybody saw the sour face professor Mozus had when asked about the mother.)

Mozus would get you to wear a more sophisticated look with dark colors and frills occasionally he would make you wear a more pastel lolita style, it makes you look as if you were really the daughter of Mozus which the professors absolutely dislike. So whenever they got you they would quickly swap your outfit that Mozus picked into something more their style. Crowley probably has a small mask and coat that is similar to his when he would make you wear as you go around campus carried in his arms as you giggled at how ticklish the feathers on the mask were.

When you are in Divus's hands you would be wearing a small white fur coat as he told you to straighten your back and chin up. The professor tries to make you a model somtimes and would nag you to keep the jacket on even when you feel stuffy. While Sam would make you wear clothes oh his color tones with an added skull as you try and help around the shop (most things he wouldn't dare you to touch would be placed on the high shelves). Same for Ashton where he would make you wear something of sports wear.

At some point, the professors started fighting for your attention trying to get you to come them that day with promises, candy, toys and even more. The students who have seen this happening cannot believe their ears so much so that they again choose to believe that all this was a dream and nothing more, choosing in the end to forget what had happened and when somebody talks about it they block their ears and started a shout as if doing that could deny them the reality of what has happened.

It was never said that Crowley stopped seaching for a way for you to go back. They didnt want you to leave having grown so attached to you, they wanted to be with you, they wanted you to stay while they became your official guardians.

So when you started to cry wanting to see your parents, they will soothe you by telling you that it was alright, that it was okay that they would be with you and that they would never abandon you. They would not disappear like your parents did and they would love you more than your parents ever did.

Really it is rather often that some of the teachers would fight over who actually becomes your father, sure all of them became your guardians but who is like your father? Sam is alright being your uncle so long as he was your favorite uncle but like it was never decided who is your father…

[twst-drabbles]

Floyd 2

Summary: You're bored, you're kinda tired and you're in the mood for some mischief. You're gonna prank Crowley using Floyd.

(House pet AU. I like it a lot.)

"Come on Floyd," you dryly said as you plucked the eel from the tank. He didn't fight you, boredom kept him lax as he hung limply like a wet rag. "I'm bored too buddy. Think you're up for freaking out Crowley?"

He still didn't move a muscle as you walked to the kitchen. Well, not that you care too much for his answer. As long as he's limp, everything will go fine.

You placed Floyd in the sink, ignoring his poor attempts to get down it's drain as you pulled a sizable skillet. You put it on the stove, adding in some water and soap suds for effect and pulled Floyd right out the drain with a pop. You laid him on the skillet, angled your head here and there to see if it looked right and nodded at your skills. Looks good, though...

"Can you play dead for me," you pulled out your phone, swiping to the camera, "well, more dead than you already are?"

Floyd growled, frowning at you. Though he still laid there, waiting for all this to be over.

"I'll shove you down Crowley shirt when he runs here."

Immediately, he perked up, chirping as he clapped his hands, spun in a circle and then flopped over, closing his eyes as he stuck out his tongue.

Perfect.

A quick snap and off it went to Crowley. And so you put your phone down, grabbing Floyd to give him a little wash, and nearly cackle when you heard a most glorious scream coming from the mansion right next to your house.

You walked to your front door, Floyd in tow as he laid on your fingers, and unlocked it. And now, you wait right next to it.

There came the slamming of doors, the rapid fall of steps on concrete, then words of gibberish mashing together in panic as they approached, and finally, the busting through of your door

"What have you--!" Crowley started to scream towards the kitchen, never to finish as you pulled the back of his collar and let Floyd slide right in.

"What in--!" And so his screaming began anew, jumping on one foot to the other as he tried to reach his back, spinning and spinning until he finally took off his vest, untucked his shirt and nab the little critter. "Huh, Floyd? You're alive?"

You were chuckling behind your hand as you looked at Crowley, looking all mystified.

"Sorry Crowley," you shrugged at him, still grinning, "I was bored."

He looked at you, then back at Floyd failing to bite through his gloves, then back at you. He was silent, you can see the gears turning in his head as you ready yourself for a long lecture.

But then he burst into tears. Thick droplets leaking from behind his mask. He lifted it up as you stared at him, befuddled as he used Floyd as a napkin.

"You," he sniffed, "you haven't pranked me since you were a child. Oh what happy days!"

"I," you scratched your head, "yeah, I guess."

It has been a while actually. You didn't think this was worth crying over though.

"We must celebrate!" He put his hands on his hips, "I'll order a most splendid of feasts!"

Oh, hoho you can't say no to that.

"Ah, but," you reached out, grabbing Floyd from slipping into Crowley's pants, "let me just put him in the tank first, okay?"

[chocodollxren]

hello!! the azul kuding tea broke me! it was so good! one of the best angst writers i've read!! it got me thinking, actually: could i request a similar jamil kuding tea with a bit of homesickness, please? in an angst mood hahahah

thank you 🧪🧪 <33!! hope this lives up to your expectations, my angst repertoire has increased, but still definitely not the greatest in this world so thank you for being patient and waiting! hopefully this doesn’t disappoint. i decided to work on describing the illness a bit better. i think it went from angst to horror and then back to angst.

𓄹 ❥𝘐𝘯𝘬 𝘈𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘕𝘦𝘤𝘬❦ 𝘑𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭 𝘝𝘪𝘱𝘦𝘳 ,,

-> teahouse ,, menu ! order up ” guestlist ! ꒱·˚ ,, #O5.24.22🍵 ˖˚˳⊹ 'ּ໋݊◵

summary: after arriving in twisted wonderland, your world had been thrown upside down. though you were thrown in a loop, there were still a few upsides like your loving boyfriend, you couldn’t escape this painful feeling in your stomach. tws, swearing, vomiting, blood, accidental death, gn!reader and established relationship.

as the fireflies lit up the night sky, you found yourself hanging off the edge of the balcony, sitting and swaying your legs as you stared into the night sky. a shiver involuntarily ran down your spine, signaling you should probably go back in and spend time with the rest of the Scarabia dorm who so kindly invited you over. you, however, longed for just a minute longer, even if it was impossible, you wanted to stare at the night sky for as long as possible, in hopes your longing reached them. “that’s dangerous, what are you doing?!” you hear Jamil’s frantic shouts as he runs up to you, placing a hand on your back and another around your waist to try and bring you down gently.

“they say no matter how far apart, the night sky is something everyone always sees as the same. but, that doesn’t apply to my family now, huh?” you replied, an evident tone of sadness in your voice. you didn’t mean to be depressing at Scarabia’s celebration, choosing to shake your head and put on a smile. turning your head to Jamil, you cheekily stuck out your tongue and wrap your arms around his neck, making sure to carefully climb down. you were around three stories high, this fall would surely break your bones if not kill you within minutes of landing. you wondered, if that were to happen, would you still be worried about your family in the moment, or Jamil? you nearly felt guilty for having such a caring boyfriend despite your obvious longing for which you had lost.

Jamil had a face of panic, but kept his calm after a few breaths. “one day, Crowley will find a way to let you see your family again.” he carefully said, wording it in a manner that showed he didn’t want you to leave or go to your own world, for evident reasons, but he did indeed hope you would meet them as well. “if i were to believe anything Crowley has told me i’d probably end up six feet under.” you snorted in response, leaning in close to give him a small and quick kiss on the lips. you could see the edges lifting into a smile of his own, rolling his eyes.

intertwining hands, the two of you walked back into the party scene, you giving Jamil’s hand a tight squeeze as you clutched his arm tightly. lately there was a sinking feeling. your stomach felt like the ink of overblots were residing within it, each and every time you thought of home. you or most would likely call this homesickness, hence you didn’t feel the need to bring it up. Jamil already had his dorm head as a child in teenager’s body to take care of. he didn’t need you constantly depressing the mood, nor did you want him to doubt your love for him.

returning to the main lounge, Kalim began offering you a ton of dishes Jamil made, as your boyfriend sighed and you agreed, happily munching on the food. you didn’t know why, your stomach just felt worse the more you ate. it felt like something was expanding or kicking your insides, in a horrible twisted way. you didn’t want to worry anyone or be rude, you tried to eat all of your plate and excuse yourself from eating that evening. you presumed it was merely too spicy, or indigestion. you just had to be convincing yourself you were sick due to your homesickness.

as the party continued, the pain never subsided by lessened enough for you to claim indigestion. you decided not to worry as you returned to Jamil’s room. he’d notice your behavior and how you avoided eating, wanting to check up on you before you left. he too, had an inexplicable feeling of dread but decided not to tell you about it. it was an irrational feeling he couldn’t explain, but you seemed relatively fine and happy when telling him that you had a bit of indigestion. it was a little suspicious, but he decided not to worry. “Jamil, look!” you called out happily, staring at the night sky from his own window.

shooting stars begun to fall from the sky. he momentarily saw it due to how fast it was. “make a wish,” you grinned, turning around and opening your arms for him to hug you. he chuckled at how affectionate you were being, his feeling of worry dissipating. wrapping his arms around you in return, he played along. “i wish Kalim would stop asking me for everything.” he joked, your turn to laugh.

“hmm maybe I should wish for the same, you do seem quite troubled by him,” you joked, turning around to face the window again. “but i think i like my current wish.” you said, smiling to yourself at the thought of it. he raised a brow, asking you what it was, shaking his head lightheartedly after hearing it, trying not to blush. after a few minutes, he left to go get you a drink after hearing you say you were thirsty. you apologized in your head for making him run around, but the feeling in your stomach had hit you tenfold.

one minute ago you were happily wishing with Jamil, and now you were wishing to see the light of day. you grip onto the ledge of the window, nails digging into the wood as you open it, deciding if vomit was going to come out it wouldn’t be in his room. as soon as you opened your mouth, the blackest of liquids spewed. it was thick, disgusting, and you would call it the vilest of things you’d been near but it was odorless. you couldn’t smell anything as you vomited out your insides, something which wouldn’t stop.

the black liquid stung your throat, but not in an acidic manner. it was nearly as if it was trying to crawl back in, rather than exit. when Jamil returned, he found tears in your eyes, which were completely red and almost yellow. coming out your body was some black liquid resembling ink, that of an overblot. the thing dribbled down your legs, out the window but that wasn’t the alarming part. the part which scared him was the way your stomach looked as though it was being kicked and thrashed from the inside, and the way it looped around your neck starting from the base of your ankle, crawling up your back, a chokehold around your neck as you were clearly being forced to swallow everything coming out by it despite your efforts not to.

Jamil began screaming for you to hold on, he would help you. the feeling within his stomach returned and he too, felt a sharp stinging in his lower abdomen, his nose dribbled with ink, but unlike your’s it was a very small amount which didn’t try to go back down. instead it begun combining with your own. the Scarabian residents could hear the commotion, coming and piling to see the horrific sight. some managed to run and call for teachers and Crowley, any adult. others tried to use their unique magic to pry the thing off of you, as Kalim worked with Jamil to try and calm you and pull what was coming out of your mouth.

it took several minutes for teachers to arrive, only to see you as a massive mess, your neck was being choked heavily, your stomach was now leaking ink from the skin, trying to find its way out to encase you with it. your eyes were barley opened and looked so bloodshot they could write you off as a zombie. it took several more minutes for Crowley to arrive, and despite the help of everyone you were only getting worse. the pain was excruciating as you could barely walk, only going backwards into the window more to escape the people around you. “oh no.” was all Crowley muttered as he entered, watching your back hit the window, the ink jolting you backwards trying to escape, despite people clinging to it, your own body fell out with a loud crack, blood pouring out of your mouth with the ink which was so desperate to stay.

the once raging monster calmed down, like a parasite whose host had been killed. the students were traumatized to put it gently, and some were even crying on their own at what they witnessed. Jamil let out a scream of your name as he looked out the window, unable to do anything. he wanted to jump out and get to you immediately, but the teachers and Kalim pulled him to his senses and at least made him walk. from this height, he’d die if he jumped.

as soon as the teachers got to you, they told most students except Jamil and Kalim to leave, Crowley observing your body. that was most definitely overblot ink which stained your body, but he could not figure out how. you had no magic, so why? he wanted to know then and there but knew better than to try and use your body for science in front of Jamil. the boy was already trying to pry the ink off you to see if you were breathing, despite knowing the answer. he already knew that it was an overblot incident as well, but not why or how it ended up such a bad route.

Crewel could deduce a few things as he and Crowley tried to get things settled. you didn’t have a way to release the ink, or have anything absorb it like you unlike the normal students. according to what the students saw, the ink tried to stay within you despite you trying to force it out, they figured it must of been a pile up like bile, but when you tried to forcefully remove it the ink acted like a parasite and rejected, instead trying to stay inside, the only outlet it wanted was that of an overblot, but you were a technical magicless student. but how did you get so much ink? was it from all the previous overblots? was it your body adjusting to this world? they couldn’t tell as Jamil refused to let go of your body.

Jamil cried, actual tears. he wasn’t one to cry, but your death greatly affected him. it was too late to try and save you, but he wanted to. he was convinced Crowley knew the truth, but wouldn’t tell him. he couldn’t care less about school reputation and threatened to let all the information out that he was trying to keep hidden if he didn’t get answers. “why don’t you have a seat and calm down, mister Viper?” Crowley nervously sweatdropped.

“we are really unsure at the moment… but we believe that their body could not handle all the overblots within such close proximity to the person, along with the frequency and the exposure had begun to grow a parasite within them.” he explained, making Jamil dig his nails into his palm to stop him from trying to break anything. “please do not blame yourself, no one could of known.“ Crowley tried to calm him, but only did the opposite. he was with you the entire night and knew you were trying not to be suspicious as you barely ate, he just ignored it and trusted what you said about having indigestion or something not like that! this was partially his fault, he overblotted and you saved him, did he really indirectly kill you?

“my wish?” he recalled your gentle voice, your perfect smile as you looked at him starry-eyed. the way you gripped his hands, your cold ones he told himself was due to the cold of the night despite the window being closed at the time, and told him your future plans. “since i can’t go home, i home to start a family here someday, with you.” he was embarrassed to hear that, but now he wish he responded. he wish he didn’t leave. he wish he still had the ability to go back and assure you he’d save you, and you’d be happy as his marriage partner for life, but that was now impossible.

crying into his jacket, he tried to stop but couldn’t. he still couldn’t forgive himself, nor could he forgive the very thing that took you away from him. he felt disgusted that he didn’t help you, despite his own gut trying to communicate with him to save you. Crowley couldn’t find it in himself to say anything, watch the glare and hatred within Jamil’s eyes meet his, obviously filled with resentment for him always forcing his troubles on you.

outside the office, Kalim was already ready to comfort Jamil, trying to talk with him despite being blown off. “ah Jamil, they’re finally cleaned off from all the ink! professor Crewel told me.” he tried everything, but the final sentence caught his attention. as painful as it was, he wanted to see your body for one last time, at least. he wished you took more photos, had more time for dates, or that you weren’t so kind to him who didn’t deserve any of what you gave him. even in pain, you stayed with him.

“i’m sorry.” was all he could mutter as hot tears ran down his face, seeing your body on an operation bed, cleaned after a lot of effort. reaching for your cheek, he felt the slightest bit of ink on your neck, picking it off and throwing it to the side. “im so fucking sorry for not picking a better wish, i promise to be better, so please, just come back.” he said to the empty room, one which only held a grieving man and a corpse, something which would never respond to his pleads no matter how hard he tried.

✎ ˎˊ- "chocodollxren" [choco - doll - rhen] ˖˚˳⊹ 'ּ໋݊◵ dn repost. likes/comments/reblogs appreciated; not required. so long as you enjoyed the content.

hopefully this didn’t suck! thank you for reading and being patient. <33 my event will be released within a few hours! please look forward to it! sorry for spamming tags and notifications;; writing and proof reading makes me sad and realize how much of a monster i am for thinking this plot. i tried to make it seem like you’d immediately die by jumping off the balcony but then did a whole turn and then another by still including a window.

[aziraphales-library]

hello!

this may seem like kind of a weird request, but do you have any fics where Crowley is just….restless?

some examples I have are Salinity (And Other Measurements of Brackish Water) by drawlight and Grounding Influences by waterofthemoon, which are two with kind of a similar vibe that I really love.

Hi! I have a few that come to mind. I hope they’re the kind of thing you’re after...

this message is a warning about danger (about love) by darcylindbergh (E)

He knows Aziraphale wonders about it, sometimes. The snake.

Crowley’s always careful with it. He’s always careful to make it seem like it should be impressive, to posture and pose and tease; or else he’s careful to make it seem like a joke, to fill it to the brim with bravado and confidence until it’s practically sour on his own tongue, laughing and showing off.

He doesn’t ever say that he’s afraid, afterwards, and there’s not really much else to be said.

Still Waking Up by sleepymccoy (T)

Aziraphale has noticed Crowley's odd behavior. Since the Apocalypse he has spotted Crowley outside the shop, just watching, like a watchdog that watches and doesn't come in and explain himself.

This fic follows a roughly two year period after the apocalypse in which Crowley admits to nightmares about the bookshop and Aziraphale burning and struggles to come terms with it and ask for help. Aziraphale grows increasingly lonely and purposeless and some of his damage from Heaven rears up. They slowly navigate supporting each other as best they can. Main points of interest are probs bed sharing, much mutual pining, kissing, and softly handled trauma recovery.

rip out the wings of a butterfly by Sway (T)

Wood scratches over marble as Crowley slides something across the countertop. “What is this?”

Aziraphale swallows.

Before him sits a wooden box. A box he’s kept secret. For a lot of very good reasons.

They've moved to the South Downs a year ago. And for a year, Aziraphale has been keeping secrets from Crowley.

Secrets that unravel when Crowley comes across a box of photographs and that threaten the fragile life they've built for themselves.

You Said Go Slow (I Fall Behind) by BlackUnicorn (G)

Further up, still, half-hidden by the branches of the trees and the leaves of the hedges, stood a cottage. It looked like any other cottage, really, with a thatched roof and a fainted paintjob and a garden out back. However, anyone who took a closer look would agree that this particular cottage was, in fact, quite extraordinary – the roses ranking up the stone arch in the front bloomed more lustrous than any roses ever seen on earth, the car in the driveway was almost antique and yet looked like it had rolled out of the factory no longer than a few weeks ago, the shelves inside held more books than should be physically possible, and the Mona Lisa sketch in the hallway was said to have been signed by dear old Leo himself.

And there, in the first-floor bedroom, covered by piles of duvets and blankets, lay the Demon Crowley, alone, staring unblinkingly at the ceiling from behind his sunglasses, waiting for dawn.

***

Sometimes healing and moving on is the hardest part.

The Kiss of the Sun in a Garden by Snowfilly1 (T)

“Gardening is making live things from old, growth from death. Tear away at the green sward, baptise the ruins with fish and blood and bone; stitch ruin and decay across it and wait.

Crowley throws the ruin of himself into the soil around their cottage as soon as they move.”

Or, healing is a long road. Crowley’s starts in their garden.

Storms We Cannot Weather by quiltedspacemittens (G)

The storm is coming. Crowley cannot stop it, no more than he can stop the tide. Wearing the rocks down to nothingness.

And of course the two you mentioned...

Salinity (And Other Measurements of Brackish Water) by drawlight (T)

It's an odd thing, getting on after the End of the World. Crowley takes to sea-watching.

Grounding Influences by waterofthemoon (E)

A quiet morning in the South Downs. Crowley has a touch of restlessness, but Aziraphale's there to bring him back down to Earth.

- Mod D