#he'ssss a good demon

[ask-the-friendly-ink-demon]

Zetocarnious Headcanon

zeto despite being an hellhound demon with traits now of having demon parts he is still unlike most demons friendly and kind being the reason why bendy is able to show empathy and compassion, he does however hate demons that abused and torture humans and other people despite the fact that he’s merely only the host for a toon now he would glady be able to stay in control of his own body again just to teach them an very harsh lesson

[magnetothemagnificent]

Ineffable Honeymoon: Part 4 {a}

(Our favourite couple runs into some trouble in North Dakota, and Aziraphale goes ballistic)

From Philadelphia, Aziraphale and Crowley set off to drive West to California, planning to stop at various landmarks and cities along the way. Their path would wisely snake around the Bible Belt, as it would be too risky for them, and not only as supernatural entities. 

In South Dakota, they visited an old Western ghost town, and of course, Mount Rushmore. 

"Why do you think they chose those four?" Crowley asked as they trekked up the mountain. 

"George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, Abraham Lincoln, and Theodore Roosevelt?"

"Yeah, I get George Washington and Abraham Lincoln, but Tom? I met him, he was a real twat. And from what I hear, Roosevelt was also quite the bugger."

"Well, I presume since Jefferson wrote the Declaration-"

"Twas a committee!"

"Yes, well, he was quite eloquent, and they had to choose someone."

"Did they? Did they have to deface a mountain and drive out its inhabitants?" Crowley challenged.

"No, I suppose not. But you must admit, the artistry is magnificent," Aziraphale conceded. 

"It is."

They reached the top of the mountain, and continued on into the forest. 

"This is quite romantic, isn't it?" Aziraphale observed.

They were alone, surrounded by the tall trees.

"Yeah, perfect place for a murder," Crowley joked, licking their lips.

"Oh, yes," Aziraphale agreed. 

"No one would hear you scream," the demon said softly from behind Aziraphale. 

"Whatever shall I do?" he whispered demurely. 

They were kissing passionately when they heard a rustling coming from the woods. 

Crowley instinctively took a protective stance in front of Aziraphale, holding out their walking stick as a weapon. 

"I'm warning you, I'm armed," they shouted, stepping toward the sounds.

"Crowley, it's probably an animal."

The demon flicked their tongue out, testing the air. 

Alarm bells rang in their head, but before they could register the thread, a Holy trap closed around them and dragged the demon deeper in the woods.

"Aziraphale!" they screamed as their vision clouded into black nothingness.

Crowley opened their eyes with great difficulty, their head throbbing painfully, and the glaring light not helping at all.

"It's awake," they heard a gruff voice say.

"Good," another voice responded.

Their vision still blurry, Crowley tentatively flicked out their tongue.

There was an angelic presence, wherever they were.

"Gabriel! You promised you'd leave us alone. When I'm on my feet-" they slurred before being slapped.

Crowley stiffened.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing, demon?" 

Crowley blinked, their vision becoming clearer. 

They could make out two men standing imposingly over them. That's when they realized they were tied to a chair. 

Crowley struggled at their restraints, their confusion turning to panic. 

"What do you want?" they asked weakly.

"What are you doing in our territory? Who sent you?" the shorter of the men drilled.

"Territory? I wasn't sent by anyone, m on vacation," Crowley protested, noticing the holy water in the corner. 

"What's your name?" the taller demanded.

"Anthony J Crowley!" the demon answered.

The two men narrowed their eyes.

"Wrong answer," the shorter seethed.

"S my name! I swear!" 

"No it's not! You must have changed it," the shorter accused.

Crowley bit their lip anxiously.

"Fine, fine, I did change it, but I haven't used my old name in two thousand years," they rambled.

"What was it then?"

"Crawly," they rasped.

"Do you think we're idiots?" the shorter growled, walking towards the holy water.

"Okay, okay, I was the Archangel Raphael! Is this what this about?" Crowley gasped.

Suddenly, the taller man held an angelic blade to their throat. 

"Is this some sort of joke to you?!" he shouted.

"No! I don't know what's going on! We were promised to be left alone!" Crowley swore fearfully.

"Who is we?" a third voice asked.

Crowley immediately closed their mouth.

"Who is we?" the voice repeated, and it was an angelic voice.

"N-no one. I didn't say 'we,' did I?" Crowley stammered quickly. 

The blade was pressed closer to their throat, and Crowley anxiously thought of Aziraphale. They hoped he was alright.

"Who are you working for, angelic person?" Crowley asked shakily, refusing to use the word that had become a term of endearment for Aziraphale. 

"Who are you working for, demon?" the voice countered, still out of Crowley's line of sight. 

"I don't work for anyone. I resigned from Hell."

"Then what were you doing with an angel?!"

If it weren't painful to do so, Crowley would have rolled their eyes. 

"Don't tell me you just left him there in the forest," Crowley muttered.

The two men looked at each other guiltily. 

"We saved his life," the shorter insisted.

"Bullssshit, you probably gave him a heart attack, or the angelic equivalent of one. Not to mention ruined his vacation."

At that, Crowley looked down, and realized he was missing his ring that he always wore on a chain around his neck. 

"Did you sssteal my ring?" 

"Your ring? Why were you wearing angelic material laced with occult and ethereal wards?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"I've had enough," the shorter man grunted impatiently, reaching for huge pliers. 

"Hey, wait, what're you doing with the bloody contraption?!"

The taller man grabbed Crowley's face and forced his mouth open.

"We don't like doin' it, but we'll get answers out of you, demon."

Crowley tried to wriggle out their bondings, but they were growing weaker by the minute. They tried spitting at the men, who slowly and painfully twisted out their molars. Blood and mucus gathered in the back of their throat, and Crowley gagged, sputtering blood from their mouth. 

"What were you doing with the angel?!"

"N-nusssin" Crowley garbled tearfully.

The men tied a gag around Crowley's mouth, and the demon's slitted pupils widened in terror as the shorter man reached for the holy water. 

"We're not getting anything out of it, Sam, may as well get rid of it."

Crowley closed their eyes, and tried to conjure up a pleasant memory of Aziraphale. If they were going to die, at least the last thing they'd see would be the love of their life. Crowley braced themself for the agonizing end.

But the end didn't come. 

"Release the demon!" a blessed voice rang out, and Crowley heard the sound of a door being kicked down. 

"Aziraphale! What are you doing here?"

"Castiel! Who gave you the right to kidnap my partner?!"

Crowley craned their neck to see their husband, eyes filled with righteous fury, strong hands clenching a flaming sword. They gazed adoringly at their angel.

"Crowley! What have they done to you?!" Aziraphale cried, kneeling in front of his spouse, and gently removing his gag.

"A-angel," Crowley mumbled adoringly.

"My darling, I am so sorry it took me so long to find you," Aziraphale apologized, carefully removing Crowley's restraints.

"Hey! What are you doing?!" the two men exclaimed.

"Releasing my life partner from your terrible bonds."

"Life partner?" the other angel echoed as Crowley collapsed in Aziraphale's arms.

"You must not have gotten the memo, Castiel," Aziraphale told him coolly, gently running his hands along Crowley's wounds, healing them.

"I haven't been in Heaven for a while," Castiel admitted.

"Nor have I. Crowley and I renounced both Heaven and Hell ages ago," Aziraphale informed him.

"Are you alright, my dear?" he turned to Crowley, who was wincing.

"Yeah, ngh, better now that you're here, love."

Aziraphale pressed his forehead to Crowley, radiating loving and healing warmth. 

"I do not understand. Why do you care about this demon?" Castiel asked.

"You really...ngh...are denser than Gabriel," Crowley groaned, "he's my bloody husband."

The two men and Castiel gasped.

"Do close your mouth, you'll catch flies," Aziraphale told them sarcastically.

"Did you give it the ring?" Castiel asked when he recovered from shock. 

"You took their ring?!" Aziraphale almost shouted.

"Ooh, you made him angry. You won't like him when he'ssss angry," Crowley hissed proudly. 

Aziraphale pressed his hands together and breathed in through his teeth.

"Kindly return my partner's ring-"

"Dean"

"Dean," he glared.

The shorter man, Dean, clutched the ring behind his back. 

Aziraphale's blue eyes flickered angrily.

"Return the ring, apologize to my darling, and maybe I'll forget you rudely interrupted our honeymoon," he commanded testily.

"I'd listen to him, if I were you," Crowley warned in a sing-song voice.