#lethal company x dark souls cross over

[lethalcontracts]

--The Warden of Rend--

A collab between @zika-the-certified-idiot and myself of Clay as a dark souls inspired boss!

Zika did the body rendering, while i did the initial base sketch, base face and hood rendering and the weather/background!

[zika-the-certified-idiot]

This is from the same Collab @lethalcontracts and I did! This is just the image of Clay on his own lol. The result after they gave me the lineart and basically gave the greenlight to go wild :P

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

Could i ask for a yandere alucard please?

Ask: Could I ask for a yandere alucard please?

A/N: So this was the second yandere Alucard ask in a row, so instead of headcanons, I wrote something longer. Full disclosure- I’ve never written yandere longform prior to this. So, I hope it’s good. Oh, also, for anyone upset by this content, blacklist the tag: ‘yandere’, and you won’t see this. (P.S. This is a fictional work about a fictional character. Manipulation and abuse in real relationships is never okay, and it’s never your fault. If you need help, please click on any of these: [x] [x]).

Oh, and for some ambiance while reading, listen to this: [x]

*    *    *

It was a dumb idea, really: to think you, a simple townsperson could infiltrate the looming castle unnoticed. Your friends and relatives had assumed it was empty, but you knew better. If it had, in fact, been abandoned, the outside would have begun to rot and deteriorate sooner than later. But there it stood, just as strong as the day it miraculously appeared out of thin air. Many of the more boisterous young men from your town would tell tall tales of how they plundered the castle, but you paid them little mind. No one truly believed them. Not many people noticed them, period. Yours were hardworking people so only drunks and vagrants enjoyed their company. For that reason, it went unnoticed then when the group of bragging men slowly got smaller and smaller in size.

You were afraid, there was no doubt about that, but you had little choice in the matter. Your father was ill, and not a single soul including the town’s wise woman knew what was wrong. The stories and legends of the grand libraries and collections of one Count Dracula, immortal vampire lord, were the only things that gave you any hope your father’s condition could be cured. You needed information. The castle had information. Therefore, you needed to infiltrate the castle; it was as simple as that.

That is not to say, you went in unprepared, oh no. You dressed in dark, concealing robes, and wore both the sign of the cross and cloves of garlic around your neck. Hidden in your boot was a sharpened stake, small but supposedly lethal to a vampire if the legends were true.

You entered the castle just as the sun had risen in the sky. One of the windows on the ground floor had been blown out, giving you the perfect entrance. Upon first entering the castle, you couldn’t help but notice how much sunlight managed to shine through. You had thought for certain vampires couldn’t stand the sun, and that the interior of the castle would be pitch black.

The other thing that took your breath away was the sheer size of the place. Your town could fit inside three times over if the entrance hall was anything to judge by. But you couldn’t gawk all day, you needed to find some useful texts and leave before the sun went down. You prayed that whatever vampire who had been maintaining this castle was sound asleep in their coffin, deep below the main floor, waiting out the sunlight.

You found a library of sorts easy enough. In fact, you managed to find several after climbing only one floor. Unfortunately, for you, there didn’t seem to be a noticeable order as to how all the tomes were organized. Sure, there were some sheets with human anatomy and diagrams on them, but they were scattered on workbenches, some of which had been overturned to the floor.

You must have spent hours opening up every textbook, one by one, flipping briefly through the pages before turning to the next. You weren’t the most literate of people, you knew that, but you figured you knew enough to be able to scour out what you needed to find. You realized, as you closed the bindings of what must have been the hundredth journal, that you had sorely overestimated your comprehensive abilities. You would just need to come back tomorrow; you decided. You had no choice. You were not going to give up on helping your father.

The next daybreak you were back again, only this time, you noticed someone had left an apple out on the table you had been using the day prior. Could vampires even digest apples? Or was this meant for you? And if it was left for you, was it a warning or threat? Or perhaps, your hopeful nature supplied, it was a peace offering. You wanted to know more about the mysterious apple and its origins, but you had no time to waste. Your father was getting iller every day, and people had begun to pray for his safe entry into heaven. Not you, though; you refused to pray for a man that wasn’t dying. You wouldn’t let him, not on your watch.

Absentmindedly, you ended up devouring the apple as you flipped through even more tomes, albeit some relevant ones this time. You were in such a good mood, in a moment of prompt foolishness, you scribbled a hasty thank you note for whoever had placed the apple out for you. Yes, you were almost certainly sealing your fate to now encounter whatever lurked in this ominous castle, but at the moment you couldn’t bring yourself to worry. Leaving at dusk that time, you left the apple core besides your message.

The third day is when you met him, or rather when he met you. The entire time you were researching, you could feel a pair of eyes on you, but what once was fear had been won over by excitement. Whoever this was, they could have attacked you earlier, but they didn’t. Maybe, you figured, maybe they’re just as desperate as I am. After all, it had to be lonely living in a place as huge and as empty as this. Perhaps they just wanted some company. And in return, you could find what you were looking for. It was a fair trade as far as you were concerned; as long as you could aid your father, you would come out of the deal happy.

The fourth day you arrived late in the afternoon, having spent last evening’s hours woken every hour to another fit of coughing from your father. You knew there was little you could do at this point other than wait out the bursts with him and bring him water should he ask for it. But you ended up staying awake at his side for most of the night into the early hours of the morning. By the time he had settled down again, it was already light out, and you were positively exhausted. You hadn’t been sleeping much lately anyway, and you had barely slept a wink ever since you started sneaking into the castle. Your body desperately needed rest, but your mind demanded you push onward. You were running out of time! None of the information you had gathered from the castle’s journals led to any sort of breakthrough. You were beginning to lose hope you could help your father at all. You were beyond exhausted and practically heartbroken. You couldn’t help but end up drifting off, seated at the same work table as before. You honestly had no intention to, but your body had given out on you. You slept soundly, through what little hours of light were left.

*    *    *

Alucard had no intention of keeping the odd traveler, not at first anyway.

Initially, he assumed they were another rowdy drunk, attempting to loot his home of any valuables they could get their greedy, very human hands on. But much to his surprise, you did not enter any of the ballrooms, nor did you come anywhere near the bedrooms. You strayed to a small library one set of stairs above the ground floor. And even then, instead of stuffing your bag full of books containing years of priceless knowledge, you simply sat down at a table and started to read. Well, you were sort of reading. He watched, intrigued as you jumped from one title to the other; it seemed you were searching for something. But what, he wondered, could you have been looking for, that you couldn’t attain elsewhere? What exactly, was so terribly important you felt you had no other choice but to trespass his castle in search of it? He had to find out. He absolutely had to.

The apple was more of an afterthought. Alucard planned on enjoying it himself when he detected your arrival on the ground floor. He had hoped to deduce what it was you were struggling to comprehend when your arrival interrupted him. Leaving the apple by your station was simply a lack of thinking on his part. At the time he didn’t stop to think what it might have implied. But then you went and ate it up without question. Not only that, but you left him a thank you note. You were different than all the others he had met. You were curious but not judgy; uneducated but not ignorant; you were conceivably a characterization of the best humanity had to offer. You reminded him of… You reminded him of his mother.

Lisa Tepes: the woman who banged on Vlad Dracula’s door and demanded he teach her how to be a doctor. Lisa Tepes: the woman who made his father’s heart, beat again. Lisa Tepes: his mother, the one who taught him to care about humans, even if they could not care for him. Lisa Tepes: whose unlawful death came at the hands of the very people she had sworn to protect. Lisa Tepes: his father’s reason for living.

Alucard often found himself wondering if the vast lonely castle which suffocated him day and night had done the same to his father, for every turn of the Earth that he lived without having encountered his mother. There was nothing here: nothing but ghosts and the graves they laid in. But what if there wasn’t? What if he was to find his own reason for living? And what if… that reason was you?

He knew he had to be careful; humans were such delicate creatures after all. They were easily frightened, easily manipulated, easily cornered. He needed you to feel untrapped; humans, when faced with capture, were often prone to run. And as easy as it would be for a being such as himself to apprehend you, he desired for you to enjoy his company. He wished for you to seek out his company. It was puerile, he’d chastise himself, how he wanted you to become a constant fixture in his life and yet, he had still to learn your name. Quite likely, there would be time for that later. If all went well, the two of you would have all the time in the world.

He sat across from you, lazily reading from the book you had last chosen. None of this information on human anatomy was anything new, but he doubted it was something you’d have been educated on before. You looked delightfully peaceful while you were sleeping. But the vicious circles under your eyes did cause him to worry. For all he knew, you could be the one who was sick. Were you perhaps treating yourself?

Alucard wasn’t sure why, but he felt a deep need to aid you. A part of him supplied it must be due to his mother; helping you was what his mother would have wanted. But then again, he knew the truth. It was wholly selfish, his desire to speak with you, to get to know you, to befriend you. It was destitute in the castle. And with each passing year without the company of his former companions, more and more of his tie to humanity crumbled away. He desperately craved bodily contact, and you were going to supply it, whether you originally desired to or not.

*    *    *

Updated as of 7/23/20. You can read Part Two here: [x]

[watarigarasu]

Hunger

Pairing: Count Lucio x Reader

Word count: 1,232

Warnings: None

Synopsis: Count Lucio discovers that the appetite comes with eating.

Author’s note: It’s the first time I’ve written anything for The Arcana so please, don’t yell at me, I’m s o f t.

The longer he thought about it, the hungrier he grew.

The taste of fine wine lingering deep in his memory and at the tip of his tongue, the elusive smell of fresh baking almost impossible to recall, the joy of stroking his dogs’ fur and the delightful feeling of the sunrays kissing his skin like a devoted lover gone. Despite his untamed greed and thirst, Count Lucio knew the true value of longing, of craving so ardently that the desired first bite brought him the real ecstasy, the sweetest poison staining his lips like a golden caramel he so adored. Still, no matter how much he wished to finally wake up from the endless nightmare he was stuck in, he could not open his eyes.

Count Lucio was truly damned, condemned to suffer alone for all the eternity, trapped in between life and death and looming in the palace corridors’ as nothing more but a cold whisper of the past. His memories, however, were as vivid as never before, as if somehow it was the death which permanently engraved them in his mind. He could not tell whether it was hours, days or weeks he spent on constant imagining, dreaming about the taste of freshly roasted meat with honey sauce and red, dry wine, the smell of expensive oils on his skin and the velvet touch of fabric upon his shoulders. He longed for the weight of the sword in his hand, for the thrill of emotion during hunting, for the music vibrating in his head and chest, and for the genuine, loud laughing when the pride and happiness was filling his whole body and soul.

He used to have everything, that’s why it was hard to believe that now he truly had nothing.

The blissful awakening did not come until he has almost lost the last strand of hope and to his utter awe, it had a lovely face worth perpetuating on the canvas and hanging in the gallery. How he adored it, the look in your eyes, the magic thrilling in your fingers and the power to set him free, to grant him what he needed and deserved the most. You were going to be his salvation, his redemption, giving him yet another chance to make things right.

Right now, however, when he stood ankles deep in the white sand, chill breeze tangled in his hair and the tiny droplets of the ocean waves hitting his face, all the glorious plans of regaining his power seemed small and insignificant. Surprisingly, as if the endless waters in front of him could wash off the whole determination and calm his previous fervor.

Or, perhaps, it was your soothing presence by his side.

“Can you believe it?” he chuckled, the question directed rather at himself than expecting any kind of answer from you.

Lucio peeked at you from over his shoulder and only then you could spot the wide, cheerful smile playing on his lips. It did not fade since you left the palace, leading the count to the beach so he could see all the changes that occurred during his absence. The lack of still worn mourning clothing on the back of the crowd upset him for a little while but the overwhelming sensations coming at him from every direction were enough to quickly distract him from his inconvenience. There were people chatting, street food prepared, vibrant colours of the fabrics for sale, warm air in his lungs, crystal clear sky above his head and—most importantly—your cautious gaze observing his every move, the one which managed to send shivers down his spine.

He has never thought that being seen could be so delightful.

“You must have missed it,” you noticed and vaguely gestured to the surroundings in front of you both. “Being trapped for so long in a fleshless form.”

“Indeed,” Lucio nodded, one of the sharp eyebrows moving slightly up his forehead. “But there are things way more interesting than the simple view.”

He was charming—he was perfectly aware that he could be and straight up decided to use it on you. Broad shoulders, strong arms, lean silhouette and high cheekbones, aquiline nose, golden hair. It was beyond comprehension how could someone so picturesque had hands permanently stained with dark blood.

You had to remember about it, you promised Asra to.

“Look,” he stated hesitantly and closed the distance between you two. “I know this is just a temporary solution for the whole lack of the real body thing but you have to know that it’s really impressive already. Whatever your so called master said to you, there’s nothing to worry about, dove. You did the right thing, the one nobody else before you had a courage to do. You’re beyond talented and I sincerely believe that there’s nothing you couldn’t achieve if you only wanted to.”

You could feel the slight sensation upon your fingers when he cupped your hands in his—the prosthetic cold against your skin but the touch featherlike. Lucio continued, now realizing that you were not going to back off nor push him away and slowly brought your palms up to his face, all while caressing them with his thumbs.

“I can recognize the true power and potential from miles away, just like I can sense the real beauty. I can’t even imagine how must it feel to be constantly repressed and neglected, denied the raw force you carry but I can assure you that I, contrary to the others, appreciate you just the way you are. How could I not, now, that you’ve showed me what are you capable of? I’d be a fool and I’m convinced that everyone who thinks of you as lesser than perfect is one.”

Lucio’s breath ghosted over your knuckles before he placed a delicate, tender kiss upon them, his long eyelashes casting shadows upon the bloody red eyes focused completely on your face. He loved it, the smell of your skin, the touch upon his lips and suddenly, he wanted more.

He wanted everything.

“Why won’t you break free, my beloved magician?” he whispered against your fingers, kissing each one of them in between the sentences spoken. “Wouldn’t you want to prove them all that you’re strong enough to take care of yourself? That you’re independent and allowed to make your own decisions, instead of pitifully waiting for your master to come back home and tell you what to do, like an obedient pet? Just imagine the look on his face once you show him that you don’t have to be supervised in any circumstances anymore. I’m sure he would be proud of you, too, maybe a little surprised at first but definitely proud that he had such a skilled and brave apprentice.”

There was an invisible venom on his tongue, the lethal visions of glory blinding his senses and the ecstasy burning fiercely in his heart again. Once he laid his eyes upon you when you crossed the threshold of his chambers, Lucio knew that you were going to change his life forever—that you were the key to freedom and not even for a while did he hesitate to reach for it.

“Well then, dove?” he murmured teasingly. “What will you say? All you have to do is ask and I’ll be both your faithful company and the willing, undeniable example of your greatness.”

[huntertales]

Part One: Crowley, Your Friendly Neighborhood Demon. (The Devil You Know S05E20)

Episode Summary: The demon Crowley tells Sam, Dean and the reader he can help them find the remaining Horsemen rings so they can trap Lucifer. The reader and the brothers are doubtful until Crowley leads them to Brady, the handler for Pestilence and Death.  Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 4,763.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

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"They will be wasted by famine, and consumed by plague And bitter destruction; And the teeth of beasts I will send upon them, With the venom of crawling things of the dust." — Deuteronomy 32:24

Each horsemen that you had faced put some sort of spell on the people that he’d crossed paths with. For War it was destroying a small town from the inside out, creating chaos and madness that would have ended with everyone slaughtering one another after he tricked all of them into thinking all of the townspeople were demons. Famine had turned one’s personal hunger for something and made them rabid for it, not getting enough until they were dead. Some it might have been food or drugs, for the very few it was sex. For you, it was violence that your other half craved. Sam the demon blood running through your veins. Cas, in a very weird twist of events, had found himself craving meat, to the point he ended up eating raw hamburger to try and crave his never ending hunger. Pestilence was next on the list. The horsemen that would bring infectious disease to the human population.

You thought you would be dealing with early signs of the croatoan virus at this point. And even if he was feeling like he didn’t want to drop that big of a bomb just yet, there were so many other kinds of diseases that were far infections and highly lethal if he wanted to have a bit of fun. All of you could have been dealing with small pox, influenza, or even the black death that had wiped out half the world’s population back in the dark ages. But it seemed Pestilence wanted to start off nice and slow. You and the boys have spent days traveling the western part of the country going through hospitals and following the trail of the outbreak that had filled waiting rooms with runny noses and people hacking their lungs out into crumbled tissues. Doctors were calling it swine flu. You adjusted the disposable surgical face masks and followed behind the brothers down the hospital hallway as they were lead by the doctor who was trying to speak to you while do her rounds as well.

“Check it out—I look like the King of Pop.” Dean tried to be funny as he looked over at you and his brother when he pointed at his own mask. You gave him a look for his tasteless joke as his brother rolled his eyes from how childish he could be. “Too soon? Too soon.”

“Don’t get me wrong—I’m glad the CDC is here, but what we really need is vaccine.” The doctor lead the three of you to the waiting room where you were greeted with the sight of sickly people that took most of the chairs. Your nose wrinkled slightly at how all of them were coughing and sneezing, looking like death from how this flu was taking a toll on them.

“Well, tell me, have you noticed anything unusual about the strain—any signs of behavioral change. Like aggression, maybe?” Sam asked the woman, going through the same questions you had asked the dozen other doctors you had seen over the past week. You had gotten part of your answer from how her brow furrowed at the younger Winchester’s strange question.

“Have the flu victims shown any signs of homicidal tendencies?” You wondered.

“Uh…” The doctor awkwardly chuckled at your set of questions and gave you the rundown of what she had been seeing herself. “Symptomatically speaking, we’re looking at a mild case of swine flu here. Probably add up to a miserable week off work, and that’s about it.”

“So nothing unusual.” Dean said, baiting her for more information.

“Hmm. Day and a half ago, we didn’t have a single case. Now we’re looking at over seventy—the infectious equivalent of a briefcase bomb.” The doctor explained to all of you. She turned her gaze away from the three of you when a colleague of hers came over with a clipboard and a pen, needing her signature on some important document. “So, yeah, I might call that a little unusual.”

“Day and a half?” Sam quietly repeated the woman’s words as he looked over at you and his brother. You shrugged your shoulders, seeming to believe there was a connection going on.

“That’s the same time those statues started crying.” Dean whispered.

“I’m sorry. What was that?” The doctor was caught off guard from what she had heard the older Winchester say. Dean pretended he didn’t know what the woman was talking about. She looked at all of you with suspicion. “Did you just say a bunch of statues started crying?”

“What? Why, no. W-Who would—”

“Who would say that, huh? Crazy people.”

You rolled your eyes from the brothers' attempt at trying to smooth things over from what they accidentally let slip out into the open as they became a bunch of babbling buffoons. You kept your lips pressed together as each of them slowly fell silent, hoping the doctor would let it slide. Her eyes moved back and forth slowly, while she was still a bit puzzled at what they had said, her mind was more occupied about her patients well being.

"Just...get us some vaccine." She said, leaving the conversation at that.

+ + +

The one thing you hated most in life was being right behind the enemy, but still far off to the point where you were eating his dust after he skipped off to the next town to make fall under his little spell. War and Famine weren't that hard. One was smack right in the middle of the chaos he caused while the other strolled in, his own hunger never being satisfied until he ate all the souls of his victims touched by his curse. Pestilence was nothing like his other brothers, he didn't just touch down on one town. He was all over all the place. But it was crafted, like he has a strategy up his sleeve that you couldn’t figure out yet. He was meticulous about where he started and only kept going onwards, not settling for just one state but several, cashing massive wide panic with this swine flu.

You read the headline of a local newspaper of one fatality caused by the flu, an old woman weak a weak immune system, no real surprise there. While you sat in the backseat of the Impala, the boys were talking to Bobby on speaker, who didn't seem surprised at the findings you had come back to him with when he presumed before you could even tell him.

"Let me guess—another steamin'-hot pile of swine flu."

"This doesn't make a lot of sense, Bobby. Pestilence touched down here. I'm sure of it." You said. You looked up from the paper you had been reading and leaned over the front seat, giving your two cents on what you thought was going on with this situation. "I don't know, it's like I can feel his bad mojo whenever we get into a town that's gotten majorly effected in just days."

"Your demony senses tingling now, demon girl?" Dean asked you. You turned your head and gave him a deadpan stare from his joke that hadn't been funny when you first heard it, and it sure wasn't growing on you now. He slowly found his chuckles growing quieter when he realized you didn't find it amusing as he did. "Why is he dealing them soft serve like swine flu when he's got the croatoan virus up his sleeve? I don't get it." "Doesn't matter what the sick son of a bitch is doing. What matters is this is the fourth town he's hit—That we know of—and we're still eating his dust." Bobby said. You rolled your eyes and sat back down in your seat, not needing to hear the same discouraging information all over again. "Did you get anything? We got even a snowball at probable next target?"

"No pattern that we can see." Sam answered, giving more unhelpful information.

"Okay. Hold on." The other line went silent for a moment, you could hear what sounded like the man pushing himself across the room and looking at some papers before bringing the phone back up to his ear." Well, far as I can tell, he's still heading East, So... Head East, I guess." "East?" The brothers asked in sync. "Bobby, we're in West Nevada." You said. You looked out the window to see that you and the boys were driving on a long, empty highway with miles of empty land as your company. "East is practically all there is." "Yeah, well, you better get to drivin'." Bobby said, leaving you and the boys with some much useless advice. You scoffed quietly underneath your breath as Sam ended the call, none of you were particularly happy with how things had been turning out lately. But there was one silver lining to this crappy situation. At least he wasn't unleashing the croatoan virus out into the world just yet. If he did, then all of you would have been screwed. You leaned yourself against the seat and crossed your arms over your chest. The three of you let the car fall into a moment of silence as everyone got lost with their own thoughts. Neither one of you noticed an extra passenger in the car before he spoke, that familiar British accent echoed through the Impala.

“Say...I’ve got an idea.”

You nearly jumped out of your own skin when you heard a voice come out of thin air and break the silence. Dean was spooked himself. He accidentally swerved the Impala as he immediately slammed his foot on the break to counteract what he'd done. The fear went swerving on the road as the tires screeched on the blacktop. Chaos had erupted, but before you realized it yourself, you swung your fist and managed to throw a punch hard enough to stun the stranger. You heard a yelp of pain before you found yourself being roughly slammed against the backseat door. You shut your eyes for a second, stunned from the dull ache that began to settle in your back from the way you had reacted from how the Impala had turned without warning.

When you opened them just a moment later, the stranger was gone, and Sam lunged the demon knife at whoever had been sitting next to you, but all he had managed to stab was the seat. You furrowed your brow and began looking around, wondering where the hell he went.

"Did you get him?" Dean asked, examining the empty highway himself to see if he could find the demon himself. "He's gone." Sam muttered with frustration.

You were about to huff out a breath of your own sense of anger from what was going on here, but it turned into another gasp of surprise when you heard someone knocking on the backseat window. You turned your head to see it was who had suspected; Crowley, the crossroads demon that you had the displeasure of seeing for the third visit. "Fancy a fag and a chat?" The demon proposed a civil conversation with a friendly face. You, however, weren’t smiling ear to ear as you ripped open the door to slide yourself out to join the demon with the boys following behind you. You looked at the demon with a cold and dark expression as you began to walk forward to him, having every intention of punching him again. Crowley threw his hands up in the air to show you that he came in peace. “You’re upset, darling. We should discuss it. Not here, but—”

“You wanna talk?” You questioned him with a low tone. You followed behind him with a close distance as he stumbled backwards around the Impala, trying to somehow get away from you, but he was backing himself into a corner when Dean stopped right where he was heading. “After what you did to us?”

“After what I—What I did to you?!” Crowley shouted. The demon seemed rather surprised at the accusations you were throwing at him. You scoffed and only walked closer to him, getting ready to start swinging again. “I gave you the colt!”

“Yeah, and you knew it wouldn’t work against the Devil!” You argued with him.

“I never!” Crowley defended himself, offended at the accusation thrown upon him.

“You set us up.” You hissed in a venomous tone. You pointed a finger at him, daring to poke him in the chest to prove your point of how pissed you were. You were tempted at the idea of grabbing the knife from Sam to shove the blade straight into Crowley’s chest just to get the job done and over with. "We lost people on that suicide run—good people!"

“Who you take on the ride is your own business!” Crowley said, only adding fuel to the fire. Your eyes narrowed on him as your arm slowly retracted into a fist. It seemed the demon had noticed his mistake and gave you a smile, as if that was going to be enough for you change your mood around him. “Look, everything is still the same. W-We’re all still in this together.”

You pretended to agree with as your lips stretched into a friendly smile, "Sure we are."

You tried your hardest to strike again when your arm swung up to punch the demon straight in the face to try and channel your anger to something useful. But you weren't lucky as you had been before in the car. You only managed to swing at the air when Crowley disappeared into thin air, seeming to catch up to the little game you were playing with him. You furiously looked around, trying to figure out where he ended up. The demon reappeared a few feet away from where you had tried to strike him.

"Call your dog off—please." Crowley almost pleaded with the brothers, not wanting to have another incident like earlier in the car when he dropped down unexpectedly .

“All right. Okay. Easy, Cujo.” Dean said. He managed to catch you by your arm and lightly drag you backwards so you couldn’t hurt the demon. You crossed your arms over your chest to show a sign of good faith. But you stared at the man with a dirty glare. “Give me one good reason.”

“I can give you pestilence.” The demon said.

You furrowed your brow, “What do you know about pestilence?”

“I know how to get him.” Crowley said. You felt your arms beginning to loosen around your waist  as you began to look at the demon with a bit of curiosity, wondering what he had to offer. The demon's lips stretched into a smile, seeming to notice that you were starting to slowly warm up to him. And Dean wasn't too far behind from listening to what the demon was trying to sell all of you. "That's got your interest, doesn't it?"

"Are you guys actually listening to this?" Sam cracked a smile, seeming all too amused at what Crowley was trying to do to the three of you. He knew from experience not to trust anything a demon said. As he looked over at you and his brother, the both of you were hooked onto what the demon said. Sam let out a scoff as he was overcome with anger at what was going on here. Dean tried to defend himself, but his little brother wouldn't hear it. "Are you freaking nuts?!"

“Shut up for a second, Sam!” Dean ordered at the other man.

“Shut up, the both of you!” Crowley yelled at the brothers, not in the mood to hear an argument. You couldn't help yourself but let out a chuckle from what was going on here. "Look...I swear, I thought the colt would work. It's an honest mistake. It's all part of the learning process. But nothing's changed. I still want the Devil dead. Well, one thing's changed. Now the Devil knows that I want him dead. Which, by the way, makes me the most buggered son in all of creation."

"My heart breaks for you. It really does." You pretended to be sympathetic as you placed your hand against your chest. "And do you hear that? It's the world's smallest violin playing for you."

"You think this is a joke? They burned down my house! They ate my tailor!" Crowley shouted at you, as if that was supposed to make you feel bad from your sarcastic response. You ended up letting out a laugh from his sad turn of events from going up against the Devil, which only made the demon even more angry. The brothers rolled their eyes from how Crowley was admitting his problems that were very much insignificant to what you had been dealing with all these months. "Two months under a rock, like a bloody salamander! Every demon on hell and earth's got his eyes out for me! And yet...here I am...last place I should be—in the road, talking to Y/N Y/L/N and the bloody Winchesters, under a friggin' spotlight!"

Crowley lashed out his frustration on the street lamp that was just across the way. He lifted up his arm and made the light bulb explode in just the matter of seconds, darkening the street even more. You lifted up an eyebrow when he huffed out a breath. “You done, Napoleon?” You asked him. The demon gave you a look from what you had said, you rolled your eyes from your subtle remark meaning so much more than just his temper. "And here I thought I had anger issues.”

“Come with me. Please.” Crowley approached the conversation more with a softer tone, thinking it might help ease the tension that was starting to form around the three of you. Sam's face only hardened as his brother showed no interest. You tilted your head to the side ever so slightly, wondering what he had to offer you. Crowley rolled his eyes from the lack of progress he was making with the three of you. "Do you want the horsemen rings or not? And before you waste anymore time, yes. I know all about them."

What the hell? Out of any demon you could trust on earth or the fiery pits below, there was something about Crowley that seemed....in an ironic sense, trusting. He was the demon that screwed your entire life over—from the deal he had made with your mother, to the one with you trying to take Dean's spot in hell. Every finger was pointing not to trust him. But he had given you the colt to try and take down the Devil. You began walking to the Impala when you realized the demon wanted to lead the three of you to his whereabouts. As you were about to open the door, it seemed that you had some help. it seemed that you had some help with such an easy task. You turned your head to see that Crowley was being a bit of a gentleman by opening up the door for you. Sam didn’t seem all amused when he gave the demon a dirty look.

“Manners maketh the man." Crowley said. Your lips stretched into a smirk from how Sam tossed the demon a dirty glare as Dean continued to roll his eyes, knowing he was doing everything that he could to suck up so you wouldn't lose your temper with him. Out either one of them, you were Crowley's biggest threat about getting killed if he didn’t cooperate. "Off we go then, shall we?"

+ + +

Home, sweet home. You and the boys followed the directions Crowley had given you to some abandoned house in the middle of what appeared to be nowhere. A perfect hideout for a demon on the run. You slammed the door shut behind you and followed behind when the demon lead the way to his humble estate. What lacked in curb appeal made up for the tasteless graffiti left on the chipped painted walls when you stepped inside. You let out a low whistle when you wandered into the house, taking notice of the rundown house with its broken furniture and boarded up windows. This was very far from where you had first met Crowley in his luscious and manicured lawn with his mansion filled with priceless antiques that you had defiled. You still didn’t feel the least bit sympathetic for how his life had turned into a polar opposite of what it used to be.

“Here we are—my life on the lam. How the mighty have fallen. Single-pane glass, used contraception in the fireplace.” Crowley said, giving a quick overview about how tragic his life had turned out since your last visit. He walked over to the fireplace, and with just a flick of the arm, he set a fire to warm this place up. “The water damage alone—”

“My heart’s bleeding for you.” You cut him off, having heard enough of his pity party. You were here to discuss the important matters that he had promised, like trying to find out where pestilence was. “Now, how do you know about the rings?”

“Well, now…” Crowley said. “I’ve been keeping a close eye on you and your boys.”

‘We got hex bags.” Sam said. “We’re hidden from demons.”

“All about one,” The demon corrected the younger Winchester. He pointed to himself, you gave him a confused expression to what sort of trick he had up his sleeve. “That night you broke into my house, our first date, my valet hid a tracking device in your car—a magical coin that easily trumps your little hex bags. It allows me to hear things, too—and, my, the things I’ve heard. Sure has kept me quite entertained on these cold and lonely nights.” A chuckle fell from Crowley when he looked back and forth from you and Dean, giving the slightest hint. Your face grimaced as you looked away, rolling your eyes from the invasion of privacy that you hadn’t thought of yourself. “So you want to cram the Devil back into the box? Cunning scheme. I want in.”

“You said you could get us pestilence.” Dean said, bringing up the promise the demon made.

“Well, now...I don’t know where pestilence is, per se.” Crowley inhaled a breath as he slightly corrected himself. You watched as he began walking across the room, stopping after a few steps so his back was turned to you and the boys. "But I do know the demon who does. He's what you might call the horsemen's stable boy. He handles their itineraries, their personal needs. He's who you want—believe me. He'll tell us where Sneezy's at."

"Well, how do we get him to spill?" Dean asked. "Rip out his toenails?"

“No. Nuts at his pay grade don’t crack. We bring him here, then I sell him.” Crowley said. Sam looked at the demon with a bit of a funny expression, not believing a demon could lure another into making a deal. “Please. I’ve sold sin to saints for centuries. Think I can’t close one little demon?”

"All right, if you're so great and powerful at this," You crossed your arms over your chest and asked, "Where's this demon of yours?"

+ + +

You cocked the shotgun back into place when you had shoved all the salt rounds you could fit into the chamber and put it into the duffel bag, making sure you were prepared for your meeting with Pestilence’s stable boy, who so happened to have a job in the pharmacy market. It didn't surprise you at all the horsemen had his hand in the practice. Sickness could have caused a nationwide panic. And he had the cure everyone would be begging for if he began spreading something that was found to be incurable. Kind of like the croatoan virus if you weren’t fast at stopping the Devil. You had been kicking a close eye on Crowley. While you didn’t trust him with your life, he had proved himself useful, in ways that Ruby never was. He might have sold you into this role, but he was trying his hardest to retract all his handy work.

“Why are we even listening to him, guys?” Sam asked. You let out a sigh when you were about to reach for another gun to load, only you were stopped when the younger Winchester began to bait for another argument about the matter. The three of you were alone, Crowley off in his little house, doing whatever demons do. The man seemed skeptical from the start to trust him, and he was only bringing his opinions up yet again. This is totally insane.”

“I don’t disagree.” Dean muttered as he shoved a magazine clip into his pistol.

Crowley slapped his hands together, signaling his presence in the room after overhearing the conversation that was about him. “One big happy family, are we, then? Fantastic.”

"Ready to go, grumpy?" You asked, tossing another weapon into the bag and tucking the demon knife into the waistband of your jeans for safekeeping.

“Yes. Yes I am.” Crowley answered your question that was directed to Sam. You ignored what had happened and adjusted your shirt so the knife would be kept hidden for now. But as you were about to take a step forward, the demon pointed a hand to the younger Winchester. “Sam, keep the home fires burning. Sam’s not coming.”

“And why the hell not?” The younger Winchester questioned the demon.

“Because I don’t like you...I don’t trust you. And—oh, yes.” Crowley walked forward to the man as he began listing off a few reasons to keeping him benched. “You tried to kill me.”

“There’s no damn way.” Sam argued. “This isn’t gonna happen!”

“I’m not asking you, am I? ‘Cause you’re not invited. I’m asking you and your little boy toy over there.” Crowley pointed his finger directly at you, shifting the conversation so all eyes were now on your impending answer. “What’s it gonna be, darling?” Sam looked at you with his infamous bitch face as Dean was tempted to answer for you, but he remained silent. You rolled your eyes from the decision that was being forced upon you. Crowley took your silence as a nonverbal no. "Gentleman, lady...enjoy your last few sunsets."

Crowley decided that none of you didn't his help anymore. You watched as he began walking across the room and to the doorway, and while you were tempted to let him walk out there, you knew what the right thing to do was in this situation. "Wait," You called out to him. Crowley stopped in his tracks, curious to see what you had to say. His lips stretched into a smirk when he heard you speak those two words. “We’ll go. Dean and me, I mean.”

“Y/N,” Sam whispered your name in a warning tone. “Really? You’re smarter than this.”

“What can I say? He's like family to me. And he is part of the reason why we're even in this mess, too. He's partially responsible.” You reminded the man as you nodded your head for Dean to grab the duffel bag. You began walking across the room to catch up with Crowley, all while Sam’s eyes followed you, a look of disapproval never left his face. You turned around and pulled out the knife. “Don’t worry, Sammy. If he pulls any move, I’ll make sure actually stab him this time.”

“How comforting.” Crowley muttered underneath his breath.

You gave the demon a smile when you passed by him, heading for the Impala first to claim the passenger's side seat as the two men followed behind you. Sam watched from the porch as the three of you climb into the Impala, and just in the matter of seconds, headed off to find this demon. If there was anything that Sam knew for sure, it was never to trust a demon from his own personal experience. They told him things that lured him into doing making the wrong choice and screwing things up even more. Maybe that's why he found himself growing a less trustful of you each day. Until he knew there was a way to get you back to normal.

Maybe what his brother had said back in the panic room had some truth to it. Maybe you were going to be his reason to saying yes to the Devil.

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