hellceo

[hellceo]

hi yall, official permanent hiatus notice. i know i just had this blog for a hot minute and it was fun while i was here but you can find me over on my dnd oc and bg 3 muse for now:

@oathwilled + @weavewilled

will probably reblog this a couple times ! ❤️

[hellceo]

hi yall, official permanent hiatus notice. i know i just had this blog for a hot minute and it was fun while i was here but you can find me over on my dnd oc and bg 3 muse for now:

@oathwilled + @weavewilled

will probably reblog this a couple times ! ❤️

[hellceo]

hi yall, official permanent hiatus notice. i know i just had this blog for a hot minute and it was fun while i was here but you can find me over on my dnd oc and bg 3 muse for now:

@oathwilled + @weavewilled

will probably reblog this a couple times ! ❤️

[hellceo]

—— WHETHER I CONDEMN THIS WORLD OR NOT, I CHOOSE YOU.

#WEAVEWILLED :: ind. & prv. GALE DEKARIOS of Larian's Baldur's Gate III. written by rowan.

[hellceo]

The Righteous Man & The King of Hell walk into a bar... ©

[hellceo]

Brows climb. ❝ But I do, ❞ the demon says, and oh, it's so true, isn't it? He knows it, and that's the dangerous part. But —— how dangerous is he, these days? It's been something he's remarkably enigmatic about, and probably for good reason. But the truth is: his powers are waning, more humanity creeping in day by day, no matter how much he fights. He hides it, because what else can he do?

He braces a hand against the side of the vehicle as it jerks, swerves, and he grits his teeth. This kind of travel is —— inconvenient. Slow. But he also won't talk about how he really can't teleport around like he used to. ❝ Maybe I'm just fucking curious about what in the hells you're planning. ❞

The truck levels out, and his gaze cuts to Dean, narrows. ❝ The devil you know —— ❞ There's something he almost says, but swallows it down instead. ❝ You do know the actual devil would have my guts for breakfast, don't you? ❞

"Like you look any better." A quick glance in the rearview mirror said differently. Crowley was slightly worse for wear-- who wasn't these days? But as far as apocalyptic get-ups went, the crossroads demon had managed to keep himself handsome. The truck hits a divot and Dean's eyes are forced back onto the road as he fought the wheel until they were realigned on the road.

"What? You got something else going on?" Cas had called it Dean's stupidest idea to date. That might be true. Fuck. It was definitely true. But with Cas out of commission and the world literally gone to Hell stupid ideas were all he had left. "We-" His jaw clenches as he bites on the admission, "better the devil you know."

[hellceo]

do what now

[hellceo]

@shadowcovcn — cont.

At that cutting little accusation, Crowley merely lifts his brows and levels a bland look his way. ❝ Please. You’re pretty, darling, but you’re less pretty when you’re looking like a filthy half-drowned animal. ❞

As snippy as it is —— and, frankly, honest — one may note that he never denied that he would, actually, quite like that show, thanks. He’s certainly no saint, and nice things don’t happen very often these days. He’s not sure if a bare Dean qualifies, but he’s at least sure it’s better than the depressing and dim everything else. 

He rolls his eyes. ❝ You act as though I’ve never seen a bloody naked man before. I’m sorry, dear, but once you’ve seen a few hundred, well. Ones that are half a breath away from hypothermia don’t do much for me, these days. ❞ Throughout all this grumbling, though, he finds a loose —— he’s not sure whether it was a blanket or a curtain, honestly, because it’s so threadbare it could be anything, but either way he tosses it at him. ❝ What did you do, anyway? ❞

[hellceo]

It's not like Crowley has never been to Church. He was not raised in it — his mother had much, much wilder gods and older ways, and even though she was not kind to him when growing up, he absorbed some of those ways regardless, especially after she left and he was raised by others. When he was first made into a demon, he could not cross over holy ground —— but as he grew in power, hallowed ground was no longer such a restriction, but it wasn't exactly ever comfortable.

But now he's human again, and he can't say he has ever had much of a desire to explore religion. ❝ Mm, that it is, ❞ rumbles he, satisfied. ❝ One of my favorite things, actually. ❞ That smile lingers, suggestion bleeding into it. ❝ No, no, that's reserved specifically for blood moons and Thursday afternoons, ❞ drawls he, not serious at all. ❝ No, I don't have any plans. Would, ❞ and he nudges Steve, pointedly, ❝ you like me to wait for you here or meet with you later? ❞

                                  "ANTICIPATION IS HALF THE PLEASURE," Steve says sweetly and with another affectionate squeeze before he pulls his hand back. For a second, he wonders if he should ask Crowley to come along to morning mass, but then he dismisses that idea. He won't ever push his own beliefs on somebody, and Crowley could have offered to accompany Steve if he wanted to. He rolls onto his back, stretching. "I could bring bagels after mass. Then we'll have a nice long breakfast, and then we could spend the whole remaining day in bed. Unless…" He squints at Crowley. "You have some witchy things to do. Like — gathering frogspawn or something."

[hellceo]

psa : if you want to get rid of it, make sure you have the ublock origin extension added, right click the image, block element, "create" when it prompts.

WHY IS THERE A CLOWN

[hellceo]

WHY IS THERE A CLOWN

[hellceo]

"I was a very lonely child and it's funny but the first word that comes to my head is "starved". I felt starved of affection, starved of love and I felt that it wasn't ok to ask for it. Maybe there was a sense that if I deserved it, it would be there. There must be something I'd done which meant I didn't deserve it."

— Carol Lee, To Die For

[hellceo]

@loyaltylanced — cont.

Crowley hasn’t felt something stirring like wonder in longer than he can remember, and wouldn’t be able to put name to the emotion now if he tried, but it lingers regardless. ❝ Mm, ❞ he agrees without so many words, fingers dragging through ink-black feathers. ❝ More than you know. ❞ 

It’s a gentle touch, and he knows by now where the most sensitive places are. And he doesn’t abuse this knowledge, not really, though he doesn’t neglect it, either. He leans in, just enough to murmur low: ❝ They are wondrous. Just like you. Though: I don't think fun is quite the right word. ❞ He considers, fingers brushing through where they meet together. ❝ I would call it more — appreciation. ❞ 

[hellceo]

MAGIC IS —— my life. i've been in touch with the Weave for as long as I can REMEMBER. ind. & prv. gale of waterdeep from baldur's gate 3. written by rowan. ( promo template cred. )

[hellceo]

He finds nothing. Nothing holding him here, nothing to prevent him from just —— leaving. He could leave this conversation in a blink, be gone and back where he started. There was a day where he would have without a second thought — he doesn't like uncomfortable conversations, especially when it's those that touch into his own damned vulnerability.

But he doesn't.

❝ Not many summon a bloody demon without a purpose. ❞ He's not even king anymore, not really — and he doesn't have any regrets for it. The job was wearing on him, scouring his bones clean, and being rid of it feels like a breath of the only freedom he's had since he can remember. The why makes his brows knit, and there's a twinge of hard-earned guilt somewhere deep.

❝ Apologies. Bad reception when you're dead. ❞ Of course, that's not the whole story — he's been back alive for longer than he was gone. There's a pause, and his mouth thins, tightens, relaxes on a slowly pushed out breath, looks wry. ❝ And no, that's not a metaphor. Dead as a doornail. Don't worry. I got better. ❞

He lets Crowley examine the room, explore a little. The blonde knows exactly what he’s looking for. And he won’t find any of it. It wasn’t that Adam didn’t know what a devil’s trap looked like- and he could draw one if he wanted.

He trusted Crowley not to do anything too stupid. Was it stupid, summoning a demon without Michael? Incredibly so.

But it’s Crowley. He’s different.

“Would I have summoned you if I hadn’t tried already…?” The Milligan sighed, running his thumb over the back of his hand out of habit. A calming motion, even if his typical occupant is gone.

“Does it have to be that the world is ending? I try to stay out of that stuff at this point.. I just want peace.” Not a lie. He’s done his piece… his own want to save the world having been what had damned him. Had warped his soul into the tattered mess it now was. No, he didn’t want to be a hero anymore.

Let it be someone else’s story.

“I’m allowed to worry about my people, ya know. And you happen to be one of them. So no text back, no call, not even a damn email… I’m going to do what I have to.”

“So what happened?”

[hellceo]

Keen eyes watch the doorway Dean disappeared to — he's both curious and knowing, and it's probably a dangerous combination. He gives away little. ❝ Hell? Oh, Hell is just fine. Mundane, even. ❞ The glass is offered, and he takes it smoothly, brows inclining; if Dean wants a brawl, insulting his mother is not the way to do it. That just may get on his good side.

❝ Oh, that's putting it mildly. Why do you think I'm here? Bloody insufferable dealing with her all day. ❞ He tuts. ❝ But oh, is the Winchester family having difficulties? Surprising. No wonder, ❞ and he takes a neutral drink, though eyes remain sharply on the hunter, ❝ you've been wanting some stress relief. ❞

Don't stay gone too long, darling. I get lonely. His eyes close as an exasperated sigh escapes his lungs. Thankfully Crowley can't see the pain written on his expression. The temptation to give in and ask for a blowjob while watching the game is strong. I'm overworked, he mentally reminds himself. It's the only excuse he has.

After grabbing a cold one, he pours the demon a glass of whiskey. "How are things in Hell?" Did he really ask that? Pushing the self scold aside, he returns to his company, offering the glass. "Your mom still a bitch?" Maybe this can turn into a brawl and Dean won't have to deal with the fact his jeans have become uncomfortable. "I know mine is."

[hellceo]

MAGIC IS —— my life. i've been in touch with the Weave for as long as I can REMEMBER. ind. & prv. gale of waterdeep from baldur's gate 3. written by rowan. ( promo template cred. )