#[ Looks Can Deceive: Abbadon ]

[warsinmyhead]

Briggs Tag Dump

[thecreaturechronicle]

Daemon, Nycadaemon

Nycadaemons are the scouts and elite shock troops of Abbadon, performing reconnaissance for their daemonic masters and raining death from above. Personifying death by falling from great heights, nycadaemons delight in snatching victims into the air and letting them fall to their deaths.

Among the most classically fiendish-looking of all daemons, nycadaemons resemble bloated green gargoyles with wings that look almost too small to support their weight, yet bear them through the air at great speed regardless. Nycadaemons are powerfully muscled and stand nine feet tall or more. They favor great double-headed axes in combat, though other heavy two-handed weapons are not uncommon.

Nycadaemons are generally more loyal than other daemons, if only due to a complacent nature, and tend to stay with a single master for as long as they are treated well. Nycadaemons relish combat, striking hard and fast, but also delight in subterfuge and intimidation. Though only of middling intelligence, they make great use of their magic abilities to strike from invisibility, deceive foes with mirror images, and teleport away after getting in a few good hits. Nycadaemons are common in the armies of all Four Horsemen and many daemonic harbingers, and even sell their services to powerful archdevils, demon lords, and powerful evil mortals.

NYCADAEMON CR: 10 XP: 9,600 NE Large outsider (daemon, evil, extraplanar) Init: +2; Senses: Darkvision 60 ft.; Perception +21 __________________________________ AC: 25, touch 11, flat-footed 23 (+2 Dex, +14 natural, -1 size) hp: 133 (14 HD) Fort +13, Ref +11, Will +11 DR 10/good; Immune: Acid, death effects, disease, poison; Resist: Cold 10, electricity 10, fire 10; SR 21 __________________________________ Speed: 40 ft., fly 90 ft. (good) Melee: Mwk greataxe +20/+15/+10 (3d6+7/19-20/x3); or 2 claws +18 (1d6+4 plus 5 bleed plus grab) Space: 10 ft.; Reach: 10 ft. Special Attacks: Liftoff, rake (2 claws +18, 1d6+2) Spell-Like Abilities (CL 14th, concentration +17): Constant - Ant haulAPG At will - Deeper darkness, detect magic, greater teleport (self plus 50 lb. of objects only), invisibility, mirror image 1/day - Summon (level 4, 1 nycadaemon or 1d4 mezzodaemons, 30%) __________________________________ Str 20, Dex 14, Con 19, Int 13, Wis 10, Cha 16 Base Atk: +14; CMB: +20 (+24 grapple); CMD: 32 Feats: Alertness, Cleave, Flyby Attack, Improved Critical (greataxe), Iron Will, MobilityB, Power Attack, Weapon Focus (greataxe) Skills: Bluff +20, Intimidate +20, Fly +21, Knowledge (planes) +18, Perception +21, Sense Motive +21, Stealth +15 Languages: Abyssal, Draconic, Infernal; telepathy 100 ft. __________________________________ Environment: Any (Abaddon) Organization: Solitary or squad (4-8) Treasure: Standard (masterwork greataxe, other treasure) __________________________________ Liftoff (Ex): A nycadaemon can only use this ability when airborne. A nycadaemon that gets a hold on a nonflying opponent at least one size category smaller than it can ascend with the grappled creature. When carrying a medium load (for most nycadaemons, a creature weighing between 400 and 798 pounds), the nycadaemon's fly speed drops to 60 feet and it takes a -3 penalty on Fly checks; this penalty worsens to -6 with a heavy load (799 to 1,200 pounds). A nycadaemon can't carry a load of more than 1,200 pounds. The carrying capacity limits here take into account the nycadaemon's ant haul spell-like ability.

GREATER NYCADAEMON (CR 12) Some nycadaemons, born from souls of exceptional power and cruelty, are created larger and stronger than others of their kind and with four powerful arms. Greater nycadaemons have the advanced simple template and a total of four claw attacks, allowing them to attack with both a greataxe and two claws at once.

Remember when I said I’d still update from time to time?

Yeah.

[silence-burns]

Something Different //part3

Fandom: Supernatural

Summary: Slow-burn Crowley x asexual!reader. When Crowley notices you actually have a weak point, he becomes very interested in taking advantage of it. But not everything goes as he expected.

Word count: 2,885

[Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 2]

It has been a few weeks since you last saw the Winchesters. They couldn’t tell you much, but they have been busy with something bigger than ever before, as Dean told you once. It took you a while of nagging to make them tell you anything additional. You wanted to help them, they were your friends and the closest thing to a family you still had. You would do anything for them and you knew they would do the same. This is why you couldn’t give up on their poor excuses and one day you made them talk honestly.

They wanted to close the gates to Hell.

It was a shock for you, and you partially started to understand why they didn’t want to tell you what they have been preparing for, for so long. You couldn’t believe it was possible, but they assured you they were getting closer with every passing week.

And so you helped them to the best of your abilities, both them and occasionally Kevin.

It almost worked. They almost made it.

But as always, the events that were so close to happening but failed, were the most tragic and hardest to subsequently live with after. Especially when they required sacrifice.

But life wasn’t going to suddenly stop or change, even though it felt like it should or like it already did. There were still people around worth saving and cases that needed to be solved. And just like the world needed those who would actively battle against the monsters, it also needed the ones protecting the backs of those fighters.

Especially when those fighters had no idea what they were fighting with.

You stretched beside the large wooden table in the bunker’s library, now bending over the amount of ancient books you put on it, looking for anything that would fit the Winchesters’ vague description of whatever was causing havoc in the nearby state. You only came to the bunker a few days earlier, when the boys asked you for assistance. At first, you weren’t sure what your part would be, guessing it would be connected to either a hunt or their next in a long line of attempts at closing the gates of Hell, but Dean assured you it was not possible to try again. Sam didn’t look as convinced as his brother, but didn’t argue with him. You knew what happened and you respected both of their decisions.

The only thing you didn’t know at the moment, was what exactly happened to the King of Hell you helped them catch, after the ritual had been stopped.

You almost didn’t believe them, when they told you that the most powerful and cunning demon of your times was locked up in their basement, right under your feet.

They didn’t laugh and you could feel your laughter dying off in your suddenly tight throat.

And that’s how you ended up becoming their researcher and babysitter all in one. Amazing.

“No, I’m pretty sure it cannot be a fairy, Dean,” you said to the phone, flipping the book in front of you closed with a loud thump. “What do you mean? I’m literally diving in all of this stuff right now, Dean! Do you have any idea how many books, scripts, and notes are here? I haven’t slept since you left me with this mess. It’s gonna take me time to find your...”

You rolled your eyes, listening to his words.

“I know, I know, and I’m trying, okay? Just give me some time. If you didn’t notice, I’m kind of new to your pretty little library, and Kevin is sleeping right now. I’ll...”

He asked you a question. The question. You took a deep breath before answering, hoping he wouldn’t pick up on the slight change in your voice.

“No, I didn’t check up on him yet. I thought you needed this info asap, so I… Dean, if he got out of the cell you closed him in, he would definitely make me or Kevin notice, okay? He will be fine...”

Dean had a different view.

“Okay! I’ll go now, if you want it so badly!” you finally lost your temper, standing up from your seat. “Just don’t call me when you need something in five minutes!”

You growled, throwing your phone on the table. It landed on one of the various books strewn about the place. Many books. Many thick books you had to read for the boys’ latest case. Uh, you would rather read them all in one go than go down in the basement and its chained inhabitant. But life was not fair and there wasn’t much you could do about it.

You hadn’t spoken a word to Crowley since your talk at a bar a few weeks ago and you weren’t sure what was going to happen, particularly after you helped the Winchesters catch him for the ritual of closing Hell. You could still recall his surprised face when Dean used demon-proofed handcuffs you’d made. Oh, the irony.

After consideration, you took a glass of water from the kitchen with you. You had no idea if demons needed to drink, but you were definitely not going back down there for his every need.

The stairs were creaking under your feet when you headed to the basement. The cool air slid across your soft skin, giving you goosebumps as you started to regret not putting on warmer clothes. You had no idea it could be that cold in there. Crowley may be a demon, but he had to feel it too. You felt a slight pinch of remorse at the thought of him, sitting there alone in darkness and cold. It disappeared as soon as you locked gazes with Crowley.

He was sitting chained in the middle of a pentagram, his hands resting on the small table in front of him. The room was tiny, bleak, and had nothing else in it. A dim light created deep shadows on the demon’s beaten up face.

“Are my eyes deceiving me or am I really so lucky?” Crowley smiled widely, not bothered by his split lip that must have hurt.

“Neither,” you said from the place where you were standing in the doorway. You didn’t like the idea of entering the pentagram that was holding him, but you placed the glass on the table, quickly moving back.

“Don’t be so harsh. I missed our little chats. You see, I don’t have many opportunities to talk these days, considering some recent… events involving me,” he gestured theatrically to his surrounding, not-so-subtly rattling his chains in the process. You rolled your eyes so hard you actually worried they would stay at the back of your head. Crowley didn’t change even for a bit.

“I know, I know, you’re angry at me and the boyband, but what did you expect? You are a demon and we are hunters. If we need a demon, we catch one.”

“Or you could always call. It’s XXI century, even I have a phone,” he raised an eyebrow.

“And would you so willingly let Sammy exorcise you and pump you to the brim with human blood?” you snorted in amusement.

“Touche,” Crowley admitted with a nod. “But you could have always given it a try instead of just kidnapping me. I’m the King of Hell, I’ve got a reputation to uphold, especially since Abbadon started messing around with my kingdom.”

“Yeah, I can totally imagine calling you and asking if it is kinky enough for you. That sounds like such a good idea.”

He spread his arms as widely as the chains allowed.

“Who knows? Maybe one of your kinks matches one of mine?” he asked slyly, never losing his composure. “We might know if...”

“Or maybe we don’t need to know. Don’t start this talk again, Crowley, we’ve been over this,” you warned him, already regretting talking with him. The next time you check on him, you will just peek over the corner to see if he is still firmly planted in his seat. Dealing with him cost you far too many worries.

“We may have been talking, but you didn’t answer me properly, not even once,” he wasn’t going to give up that easily.

“I don’t have to. All I had to do was check if you're still among living, and now I have every right to just go back and ignore you even more efficiently, while you will be rotting here.”

“Really? But Kevin could also pay me a little visit, just like before,” he gestured to his still fresh wounds. “I miss him already. I hope he is fine on his way to his mommy...”

“Kevin's fine, he's resting,” you snapped, aware of what lies Crowley was able to implant in Kevin. That was one of the reasons why the Winchesters asked you to come to the bunker. They trusted in your cold-blood and that you could handle both of them.

Crowley quickly jumped to his own conclusions. His eyes lightened.

“Resting? Oh my, I’m sure he has every reason to rest...”

“You know what? I’m done with your crap, Crowley,” you shouted, finally having enough after months of his never-ending innuendos.

You took a chair and placed it on the other side of the table angrily. And there goes your cold-blood and self-control. You leaned forward, locking his gaze with yours.

“What do you want from me, Crowley? And cut all that crap, because you know you won’t fool me,” you said in a low voice that couldn’t mask the fury raging inside you.

Crowley looked taken aback. He didn’t expect that kind of reaction from you.

“What is your problem?” you asked again, piercing him fearlessly. “Why do you keep doing this to me?”

It took him a moment to answer, which he did, putting his words slowly.

“Is this a moment for sincerity? Because, you know, demons may have some issues with that...”

“You owe me the answer, Crowley. After all those months of your constant nagging, I’m tired of your weird games. This is your only chance.”

Crowley locked his jaw, observing you. The whole situation he suddenly has found himself in was rather troublesome to his plans, already hindered because of the bloody Winchesters and their complex of saving the world.

But the problem was that he understood you more than himself at that point and it wasn’t something he would easily admit, even when placed in his current predicament. Putting that whole talk off was a truly tempting idea and Crowley was sure that if he made one more remark, you would stop your interrogation and leave him be. At the same time, though, it didn’t feel like a good idea at all.

Crowley looked away. It must have been the human blood still coursing through his veins that was making him doubt his decisions. Everything seemed different than weeks ago, when he was planning a rather different approach to you. Some things just didn’t feel right and he couldn’t understand why it suddenly matter to him.

You waited in silence on the other side of the table. You were exhausted and angry, but it didn’t change your spirit at all. You have always been like that, Crowley thought. Even at your worst day, you were still so bright and determined to archive your goals.

“I don’t know,” Crowley said at last, finding himself speaking the hard truth, even though some part of him desperately wanted him to shut his mouth. He ignored it. “At first, I only wanted to know your weakness, being sure that you had to care for someone deeply enough for me to use it later. But when you weren’t interested in anyone close to you, well...”

“Yeah, I remember about your little hobby,” you cracked half of a smile and Crowley’s eyes fixed on it for a little too long of a moment, but you didn’t notice. “It went horrible.”

“Indeed, darling, and I admit it was quite impolite of me,” Crowley nodded, clearing his suddenly tightened throat. “And I would like to make it up to you somehow, maybe at dinner? Of course, after I get out of here, because I just happen to know a very pleasant restaurant on the outskirts of Rome...”

Your breath hitched when his words got to you with all their meanings.

“Stop,” you asked him quietly, closing your eyes. Your heart was thumping against your chest and your hands were getting sweaty.

“Why?,” Crowley furrowed his eyebrows. “If you don’t like Rome, we may always find someplace else...”

“That's not what I mean. The place doesn’t matter,” you said, not looking him in the eyes. The sadness in your voice raised an alarm in his racing thoughts.

“Why?” he asked again, taking a sip from the glass you brought him. His mouth felt dry as a desert. “I’m just saying that...”

“I know what you are saying, and my answer is still a no. We cannot, Crowley. It wouldn’t work either way...” you shook your head, moving to stand up, but Crowley caught your hand, not letting you. You couldn’t look at him, not now when everything was becoming even worse than you have  imagined.

“But why? Is this because of my body? I may change it, darling, at any second. Even the gender, if you want me to, just say...”

“I don’t care what meatsuit you are in.”

“Oh, so you are the personality type? It’s rare in our times, but not impossible for me – I can be very charming, trust me. I can be the most daring demon you’ll ever meet.”

“Why are you doing this to me? Why do you want me to jump your bones so badly? There are plenty of people who would kill for a lovey-dovey night with you, so why do you keep nagging me? I won’t, not this,” you said quietly, brushing your worn-out face with the hand previously grasped between his fingers. You suddenly felt tired, as the fiery emotions that used to keep you up disappeared, leaving just an empty shell.

“I've already found it out, darling,” he nodded.

“So now what? Am I another challenge to you?” you snickered gloomily.

“What- Don’t you ever think like that!” Crowley snapped, an unusual emotions lacing his words.

“Because what? Devil may care?” you laughed quietly, but there was no real happiness in your voice as it was far from that. Your unpleasant memories and experience were overloading your mind and at one point, you wanted to just wake up from all this mess, but it was impossible. This was not a dream and there was no going back from everything that already happened. Or what couldn’t happen.

“Just tell me why,” Crowley asked quietly, feeling something heavy settle itself on his chest.

“Because you are normal, and the ones like you are not meant for the ones like me,” you said tiredly, rushing your way out of the basement.

He called you, but you didn’t stop, finally shutting the door to the basement behind your back. You took a deep breath, feeling like all the air from the corridor was taken out with nothing to use.

From where you were standing, you could hear Kevin walking on the old wooden bunker’ floors, probably looking for you since you weren’t anywhere in sight when he woke up. You didn’t move though, not sure if you were ready for confrontation with him. If he saw you in this state, he would definitely start asking some uneasy questions you had no honest answer to. You had no idea how all that could have happened, you were not prepared even in the slightest…

How many times would you have to re-enact the same experiences from the past? How was it possible that even if you did nothing to start it, those situations have been finding you again and again?

You didn’t hate Crowley, even though he could be a real pain in the ass sometimes. And that was the problem. It would be much easier for you to reject him if you had no feelings towards him. But somehow, after all that time you’ve known each other, you ended up getting to like him a little, even with all his quirks and moods. Just a little. He wasn’t that bad for a demon after all, at least not all the time.

But he had his needs, as most of the people had, and you wouldn’t be a match for him as your asexuality would sooner or later become a valid problem, just like it did in your past relationships which left you scarred on the inside.

A part of you wanted to punch yourself in that stupid face. What made you start that conversation with him? Everything would be a lot easier if you just stayed calm and ignored his remarks and words. Now it… Now you had one more thing to worry about. Congratulations.

With a faint feeling of sadness, you made your way back to the main part of the bunker, plastering a  smile on your face and hoping that Kevin wouldn’t be too inquisitive about why you spent so much time down there.

[Part 4]