#original male character
Note: I was going to make this end sad, but I don’t like Barbatos being sad. :( So we have a happy ending.
Warnings: Attic incident mention, head injury, concussion (loosely based on my experience with a concussion - but that’s all blurry to me), incorrect medical stuff to fit the plot, amnesia, threat, pact use without permission
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff (in that order)
Word Count: 2869
–
Barbatos stormed through a portal and slammed Solomon into the wall. His hands gripped into tight fists on the fabric of the sorcerer’s shirt as the portal vanquished into thin air. The demon’s tail thrashed from side to side. “What did you do to him?” Barbatos growled.
Solomon winced at the stinging sensation in the back of his head. He wouldn’t be surprised if he was bleeding from where his head collided with the wall. “A potion we were working on blew up. It knocked him out. He’s being checked by a doctor right now.”
“Where is he?” Barbatos released the wizard. Solomon pointed through a door as he rubbed the back of his head. Without glancing back, Barbatos left with his demon form dissipated and threw the door open. A doctor looked up in alarm.
“You can’t be in this room, sir,” the doctor spoke quickly. Barbatos ignored him and made a beeline for Lance.
“Lance, Little Lamb, are you alright?” Barbatos went to cup the human’s face with his hands.
“Don’t touch me!” Lance yelped and shot out of bed. He tripped as the sheet caught on his ankle.
“Lance?” Barbatos asked in confusion. He immediately ceased his movements with his pact activated, unable to try a catch him. Fortunately, with how often he has fallen in the past, Lance was able to stabilize himself. “My apologies, I didn’t–. You’ve never minded in the past.”
“The past? I don’t know who you are. We’ve never met before.”
Barbatos stilled. His heart sank. Painfully. It felt like someone had just stabbed him in the gut and twisted the knife. “I beg your pardon?” Barbatos took a step forward to try and reason with him, but Lance scrambled backward.
“Sir, please, I must ask you to leave.” Barbatos gave the doctor a pleading look.
“Lance, we’re engaged. The ring on your finger is the ring I gave you.”
“Engaged?” Lance scoffed. “I’m never going to date, that’s impossible.” He glanced at the ring he had and froze. “Where did this come from?”
"It was a gift from me. You received it the same night I received a ring from you,” Barbatos spoke softly. He turned to the doctor. “Will he get his memories back?”
“I cannot give that information out without the consent of the patient. Sir, you really must leave.”
Barbatos looked away from both of them. He felt his bottom lip quiver before he nodded. “I understand. I will be waiting outside.” He risked a glance towards Lance who watched him with confusion. “I’m sorry I frightened you, Lance. That was never my intention. I would never do anything to harm you. If you’ll please excuse me.”
Barbatos slid the door open and then shut it behind him. His feet unconsciously carried him to a nearby bench. He sank down on it and stared blankly at the wall before him.
“How is he?” Barbatos barely registered Solomon’s words.
“He does not remember me. At all.”
“What?”
Barbatos’s hands formed into tight fists. “He does not remember me. I do not know if his memories will return to him.”
"You don’t? You didn’t see any of this?”
“No!” Barbatos snapped. “I did not look that far into the future. I was afraid to see how things between us may have ended if they ever did. This…” Barbatos’s voice began to crack. “What if this is how it ends?”
Just as Solomon was about to respond, the door opened. The doctor left the room before shutting the door behind him. Then, moments later, the door opened again. Barbatos glanced to see Lance standing there awkwardly. He shuffled over to the demon and sat down, a bit of a distance away from him. He eyed Solomon nervously. With an awkward laugh, the wizard excused himself and left the pair alone.
“How are you feel—” Barbatos’s question was interrupted.
“You called me Lance and used he/him pronouns.”
Barbatos’s eyebrows furrowed together. “Yes, I did. That, besides my nicknames for you, has been what I’ve always referred to you by.”
Lance slowly nodded his head. “No one calls me that. Not that I remember. But it’s what I wanted to be called by.”
Barbatos’s lips parted as he started to piece together where in his life Lance’s memories took him back to. It must have been just before the exchange program took place. “I see. Many people call you that now.”
“They do?”
"Yes. You have many people that truly care about you.”
“Even you?”
Barbatos looked down at the ring Lance gave him. “Yes, especially me.”
Lance frowned and played with the ring on his finger. “The ring’s beautiful. It’s exactly what I would want.”
Barbatos nodded. “I know. I picked it especially for you.”
Lance swallowed. “And I cared for you?”
Barbatos looked away from the human at feeling a stinging in his eyes. Lance’s feelings vanished in less than a day. “Yes, you did.”
“That’s hard to believe,” Lance whispered. “I don’t let myself get attached.”
"It took a very long time,” Barbatos murmured quietly. “I was patient.”
Lance glanced at the person next to him who refused to look at him. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m hurting you, because of this.”
Barbatos shook his head. “Don’t apologize. I can be patient again if that is what you wish.”
Lance stilled as he stared at the stranger in front of him. “You’re a stranger to me. I don’t know if–.”
Barbatos nodded his head but paused so that his hair covered his eyes. “Yes, I’m aware.” Finally, he was able to look up at Lance. “How are you, asides from the amnesia?” That was more important.
Lance inhaled sharply as he caught sight of Barbatos’s eyes. He felt something in his chest and looked away quickly. “I have a mild concussion. Everything’s moving slowly in my head. I hate it. I’m used to my thoughts being faster, louder. It’s just molasses right now. I can only have one train of thought. I used to be able to think of multiple things at once.”
Barbatos stood from his seat and held out a hand to Lance. “You should get some rest, then.”
Lance looked at the hand. His eyes lingered on the engagement ring on the person’s hand. “What’s your name?”
“Barbatos. Though, you sometimes called me Little Bat or Tosie.”
“Tosie?” Lance’s nose wrinkled at the overly cutesy name.
“Yes,” Barbatos said with a sigh. “Only you are allowed to call me that.”
Lance tore his eyes from the ring and up at the butler. “You actually loved me?”
“I still do. Always and forever.”
Lance’s lip quivered. “I’m sorry, I wish I remembered. I might with some time.”
Barbatos lowered to his knees before him. “Don’t apologize. Right now, the most important thing is for your concussion to heal. The rest we will figure out. Would you like me to help you back to your room to rest?”
Lance nodded and took Barbatos’s hands. Barbatos sighed with relief as the pact’s command was released. He wrapped an arm around Lance’s shoulder and guided him back to the hospital bed. He tucked Lance in tightly with the blankets on the hospital bed and lingered for a moment – not wanting to leave just yet.
“You can stay,” Lance said softly. Barbatos nodded and took a seat near the bed. It was silent for a few moments before Lance spoke up, “You’re on my home screen on my phone.”
Barbatos glanced at Lance and nodded his head. “Yes, you rotate it frequently if you get another picture of me that you like.”
Lance was quiet as he rolled over to his side to face Barbatos. “That’s how I believed you. Believed that we’re engaged. I’ve kept the same home screen for years.”
“Yes, it was a very big deal for you to change it. You felt as though you were disrespecting the deceased. It took a lot for you to go through to change the picture.”
“I must have taken a lot of pictures of you.”
Barbatos chuckled. “You did, yes. I believe most of them are still on your phone.”
Lance’s eyes started to drift shut. “I’ll try to remember when I took those pictures, then.”
Barbatos gave him a sad smile. “Take your time.”
–
Lance’s head pounded when he woke up. He winced as he opened his eyes and sat up in alarm. The dull beeping of the machine grounded him to have him realize where he was. A nurse must have come back in and reconnected him while he was knocked out. He looked over and saw Barbatos asleep in his chair.
“Tosie?” Lance asked quietly. Instantly, the person woke up and looked at Lance. He hurried over to his bedside.
“What is it, Lance? What do you need?”
Lance’s eyebrows furrowed together. “You like tea and you bake, right?”
Barbatos sighed in relief as he sat on the side of Lance’s bed. “Yes, that is correct.”
“And I…Started a fan club for you?”
Barbatos laughed. “Yes, you did.”
Lance squirmed with embarrassment. Still, he watched him with caution. “Can I hug you?”
“Yes, of course you can.”
Lance quickly wrapped his arms around him. Barbatos immediately returned the embrace and held onto the human tightly. “This feels familiar. There’s something else,” Lance spoke quietly. “But it’s stupid.”
“Nothing is stupid. What is it?”
“Something’s telling me you’re not human?” Lance said with confusion in his voice. “I don’t know why. Is it an inside joke?”
Barbatos paused. “No, it’s not an inside joke. It’s a long story, though. I’ll tell you once you’re feeling better. However, it seems as though you’re starting to remember some things?”
Lance slowly nodded. “Just some tidbits. A couple of facts and a sort of feeling when I look at you.”
“What’s that feeling?” Barbatos asked as his fingers ran up and down Lance’s back, tracing small patterns. He felt some comfort in that Lance hadn’t pulled away yet. It took a while for him to let Barbatos touch him for more than just a few seconds.
Lance rested more of his weight into Barbatos. “I don’t really know. Comfort? Safety? A sense of belonging? It’s a nice feeling.” Lance hesitated before he pulled away. Though, his hands still lingered on Barbatos’s arms. He looked up at the person in front of him with exhaustion. “I should sleep more. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.” Barbatos pressed a kiss to the top of Lance’s head without thinking. When he realized what he did, he pulled away quickly. “My apologies. I shouldn’t have.”
"Don’t apologize,” Lance repeated. “It was nice. I’ll hopefully remember more soon.”
“You’re already remembering plenty, I’ll be patient.” He helped Lance lay back down and ensure that the blankets were covering him. “Do you want a warm blanket brought in?”
Lance silently nodded as he quickly drifted off to sleep.
–
Lance startled as he clawed at his neck. There was nothing there. “Barbatos!” he gasped out and looked around frantically. Barbatos quickly grabbed a hold of his hands. “I died. What happened?! Why did I die?!”
“Breathe,” Barbatos whispered to him. “Just breathe.”
“I couldn’t!” Lance sobbed out as he desperately held onto him. Fat tears rolled down his cheeks. “I couldn’t breathe! I tried calling for you, but–!”
“I know, I know,” Barbatos hushed him. “I’m so sorry.”
“It was the only way,” Lance hiccupped. “Why was it the only way? I don’t understand. How did I come back from that?” Barbatos was quiet, his grip on Lance tightened. Lance seemed to have no memories that involved magic or anything related to demons. “But you were there. You stayed with me.” Lance’s breathing started to calm down. “Just like you are now.” He cringed at the fogginess in his mind. “Even though you have an important job.”
“My job can wait,” Barbatos reassured Lance. He ran his fingers over Lance’s hair and paused at the small welt. “Goodness, Solomon will definitely be punished for what he did to you.”
“Solomon?” Lance repeated the name. “You warned me not to trust him, but I do anyway, right?”
“Yes,” Barbatos said with a sigh. “Although, I’m certain he warned you not to trust me, too.”
Lance nodded. “Possibly. I think I got mad at him when he suggested that. Should I be mad at him for this?”
Barbatos hummed. “I am. I’m furious with him. You, however, would probably insist that it was your fault.”
“Then, you’d be mad at me?”
“No.”
Lance snorted. “Why not? If it was my fault this happened, then—”
“You’re too cute to be mad at.”
Lance stiffened in Barbatos’s arms. “No, I’m not.”
“Oya. Are you calling me a liar, Little Lamb?” Barbatos teased. He pulled away so he could look down at the reddening of his face. “I thought you had more trust in me. Don’t tell me you actually listened to Solomon? Or perhaps I just need to shower you with more compliments until you believe them?”
Lance whined and quickly moved to bury his face in Barbatos’s chest. “I’m still concussed, you can’t overwhelm me.”
Barbatos clicked his tongue. “You’re just using that as an excuse. But very well, I’ll stop teasing you. No matter how much I know you like it.”
“You dem—” Lance froze in his words. “Demon?” He repeated it again quietly as he tried to have his slowly moving thoughts catch up with the idea that was forming a mile away. “Are you a demon?” Lance withdrew his face from Barbatos’s chest. “An actual demon? You have horns and a tail.”
Barbatos watched Lance carefully to gauche just how he would react. “Yes. I am a demon.”
“Can I see them?”
“It won’t overwhelm you?”
Lance thought it over before he shook his head back and forth. “I don’t think so.”
Barbatos glanced at the door leading into the hospital room. His horns and tail appeared. Lance stared at them in awe. Slowly, his fingers reached up to caress the horns. “They’re actually antlers, aren’t they?”
“Yes,” Barbatos confirmed. “You kept one that I shed.”
Lance giggled. “That’s right. You only had one for a while. It was cute.”
Barbatos’s tail slapped against the floor at being called cute. Still, he kept his mouth shut. Even if it did form a small pout.
Lance grinned at him. “You don’t like being called cute. Even though I call you cute all the time.”
"You do,” Barbatos grunted out, much unlike his more articulate self.
Lance tilted his head to the side. “You actually like it when I call you cute, though. Don’t you?”
Barbatos eyed Lance suspiciously. “I will not confirm or deny that.”
Lance laughed, drawing a smile from the demon. “You’re confirming it then.” Lance leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek, causing Barbatos’s skin to become painted a fair pink. “It’s no wonder I fell in love with you.”
Barbatos’s smile softened. “It’s still a wonder to me.”
Lance melted into Barbatos’s arms at the soft smile. He whispered just so Barbatos could barely hear him, “I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with you all over again.” Barbatos immediately pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “Can I fall asleep in your arms, Tosie?”
“Anything you need or want, it’s yours.”
–
“Little Bat,” Lance whispered as he looked up at the snoozing Barbatos. His arms held him protectively from the rest of the world. Lance leaned up and pressed small kisses to his face. “Tosie.” His fingers lightly brushed over his eyelids. “Barbatos.”
Slowly, Barbatos’s eyes opened. He hummed and pulled Lance closer to him to try and keep him warm. “Yes, Little Lamb?”
“I remember,” he whispered and pressed a small kiss to the side of his neck. “I remember just about everything. I’m so sorry I put you through this.”
Barbatos pulled away from Lance with his once groggy eyes now fully awake. “You remember? What all do you remember?”
“I remember you tricking me into making Hell Coffee so you knew how I felt for you before I officially confessed.”
Barbatos chuckled. “It was the most bitter thing I have ever tasted.”
“I’m sure it’d be even more bitter now. I remember you gambling on where I would stay for a week. I remember you telling me about your past. I remember you getting upset over wanting to ask me to become immortal to stay with you. You were out in a rainstorm and I came out to fetch you.”
Barbatos was quiet. “You even went out in the wind for me.”
Lance nodded. “I remember you catching me ordering a custom body pillow with you on it. You catching me wearing your coat and making me wear it to dinner. I remember writing you those sticky notes after you were having a difficult time.”
“It turned into one of the best times I’ve ever had.”
“I remember you showing me our house for the first time. I remember proposing to you. I remember how much I love you.”
“Let me kiss you?” Barbatos nearly pleaded the human. Lance responded by pressing his lips against Barbatos’s.
In case you missed it, here’s a list of the fics/headcanons I posted last week!
Fics
Wishing Board [Barbatos/Lance]
Headcanons
MC’s Immortality is Wrong (Minus Luke)
Here’s a SW original character of mine! :DD
Plurk Gocha/ Commission: Deuce Spade from Twisted Wonderland & OC
Re-upload cause I wanna see if new template works…
Post link
Love Bites
A/N: This is for @deanwanddamons #deanwanddamons500followerchallenge. Hope you enjoy it!
Characters: Sam, Dean, Crowley, OMC Kern and Reader
Word Count: 2233
Warnings: Language, mentions of torture, vampires, blood, a bit of fluff
Prompt: You don’t know how long I have wanted to touch your lips and hold you tight (in bold)
Tags:@deanwanddamons@official-and-unstable-satan@sweater-daddiesdumbdork
Rain poured down over you as you walked up to the entrance of Harvelle’s Roadhouse. You slammed the door open and stood in the entryway dripping water onto the floor.
“Hey, you look like shit.” You recognized the voice as Dean Winchester.
“You’d look like shit too if you went through everything I just did.” You shot back as you walked over to the table where he and his brother, Sam, were sitting. “It started off as a simple salt and burn.”
“Sounds easy enough.” Sam chimed in. “What happened?”
“If you would shut up and listen for more than two seconds, I was about to tell you. Now, then, where was I?” You paused for a moment.
“A ‘simple’ salt and burn.” Dean used finger quotes when he said the word ‘simple’.
“Is it a family trait?” When the boys looked confused, you continued. “Your inability to listen.” You sighed and regained enough composure to return to your story. “So I dig up the guy’s grave only to find out, he’s not actually in there. He’s in his wife’s grave….. one plot over….. exactly where I piled the dirt from his grave. So I have to refill the hole I just dug and do it all over again.” You stopped and downed the drink sitting in front of Dean.
“Hey.” He started to interject, but you held up your hand to silence him which, surprisingly enough, worked.
“So I get to the damn coffin. Just my luck, it’s chained shut. I get my crowbar from my car and break the stupid lock; finally get it open. Then, the salt container won’t open. I end up ripping the thing open; salt goes everywhere. One bit of good news, I still had enough to pour over the bones. I douse everything in gas and go to strike the matches, but of course they’re wet so they won’t light.”
“Why were they wet?” Dean looked completely engrossed in your story.
“Because they came out of my boobs.” Dean nodded knowingly. Sam, however, looked dumbfounded; opening and closing his mouth several times. You crossed your arms and waited for him to figure out how words work again. ‘This is gonna be good.’ When he finally spoke, he didn’t disappoint.
“What do your boobs have to do with the matches being wet?” He looked uncomfortable at his own question.
“Because swamp boob is a thing.” You paused, giving him a chance to rearrange his face, but he still needed more explanation. “All the extra digging made me sweaty.”
“I see. That makes sense now.” He quickly shifted the conversation away from your chest. “So what did you do without the matches?”
“I remembered that there was a mausoleum on the other side of the graveyard with lanterns, so I ran to get one. By this time, the ghost shows up to stop me. I manage to slip past him, grab the lantern and get back to the grave. I throw it into the hole and it crashes igniting the gas.”
“At least you got it done and you’re safe now.” Sam tried to encourage you.
“Oh yeah. I’m so glad to be alive right now.” You rolled your eyes at him and took his drink. He started to protest, but his cell phone ringing interrupted him. After several minutes of talking, he turned to you.
“You up for some vampire hunting?”
“Always.”
You pulled up to an abandoned-looking barn and hopped out of the boys’ Impala. You barged into the building, combat knife in hand, but the vamps were ready for you. Before you knew what was happening, you had three of them on you. Sam and Dean weren’t fairing much better, fighting two vamps each. You started kicking and slashing your knife almost wildly, managing to carve into one of your opponents and behead another. It became harder to breathe and you found your mouth open trying to suck in more oxygen as you continued fighting. The vamp you sliced open, slapped your mouth with a wet hand before calling for the others to retreat. They were gone in the blink of an eye.
You swallowed hard, the taste of metal in your mouth. You wiped your face clean, feeling for a wound and not finding one.The world started to spin around you and the rhythmic sound of heartbeats thumped loudly in your ears.
“Are you ok?” Sam put his hand on your shoulder and you quickly shrugged it off regretting the sudden movement as it made you feel nauseous.
“Son of a bitch got his blood in my mouth. You have to kill me before I turn into one of them.” You refused to look at either of the men now both standing within feet of you. How could you let this happen? You got sloppy and now you had to pay for it.
“There’s still a way to save you.” Dean’s voice pulled you back to the moment and you looked up at him, confused. “There’s a cure; a potion. We’ll have to work quickly though. We need the blood of your sire and it won’t work if you drink any blood.”
“I’ve never heard of a cure for vampirism. How do you know this will work?”
“We’ve done it before,” Sam looked to his brother. “for Dean.”
The three of you worked out a plan. You would find the vamps and retrieve the blood while the boys gathered the remaining ingredients. They argued with you about going alone, but you convinced them that you had a reason to go there and if things did go south, you were stronger now. You grabbed a syringe from the impala and took off after the vamps. It was easier to track them in your current state and it wasn’t long before you stood at the door to a mansion which opened revealing a woman standing in the entryway.
“We’ve been expecting you. Kern told us you would be coming.” She stepped to the side and made an inviting motion. You entered the building and waited as the woman closed the door. She walked past you and into a large entertaining room. As you followed her, you thought about the name she mentioned. Kern must be the vampire who sired you. You would have to repay him for the slap in the face back at the barn. You looked around the room. There had to be thirty or more vampires in this room, but none of them were Kern. It looked like you had walked into a party with the lights dimmed and rave music playing. The thump of the bass was quickly giving you a headache. When you looked back, the woman you had been following had been replaced with a greasy-haired man.
“Thirsty?” He asked as he offered you a glass of what you were sure was blood. “Not as good as the fresh stuff, but it’ll do in a pinch.”
You struggled to think of a believable reason to decline the drink. The smell of it had your newly acquired fangs poking out from your gums. Your logical brain screamed at you as your right hand reached out and took the glass from him. Swirling the liquid like a fine wine flooded your senses with the rich smell. You had smelled blood before; hot and metallic, but this time was different. It was like dark chocolate and honey. Your body craved this liquefied life and you found your hand bringing the glass to your mouth.
Before it could touch your lips, a loud crash and bang brought you back to your senses. The room filled with a thick smoke that rendered your sight useless. You dropped the glass with a pang in your chest, but it didn’t last long. You focused on what you could hear. Did the Winchesters come after you? There was panic all around you; shouts of people trying to find each other and thuds as, presumably, bodies hit the floor. You coughed as you breathed in the smoke and stumbled with a sudden dizziness. The last thing you remembered before you blacked out, was your hands being tied together.
You opened your eyes and tried to blink away the blurriness. You could just make out a voice. It sounded oddly familiar, but you couldn’t place it; gruff and……. English? Then it clicked. You knew who that voice belonged to. You blinked again and shook your head. Finally your vision returned and you saw him. The man you didn’t think you would ever see again. Crowley; newly crowned King of Hell.
As if on cue, he turned and looked at you. Seeing you awake, he walked over and stood in front of you. It was at this point, you realized you had been chained up with your wrists bound together above your head. You struggled against your bindings to no avail.
“Love, it’s so good to see you.” He smiled. “It’s been a while, but I didn’t expect this kind of change. Fangs don’t really suit you.”
“You’ve changed too. Last time I saw you, you were still King of the Crossroads.” You looked at the room around you. “Where am I? Why am I chained up? Is this a kinky thing?” You blushed at the last question. You had always had a crush on Crowley even though you knew you couldn’t act on it. He was a demon for crying out loud. As a hunter, it was your job to eliminate his kind.
“My dear, I have work to do and I’m afraid you won’t like it. I need answers and you’ve become someone who can give them to me.” He held up a knife and examined it.
“What do you mean?” It took you a moment to realize that he meant torturing vampires for information. “Wait. Please, don’t. I can’t be of any help. I haven’t been a vamp long enough to know anything.” He gave you a quizzical look. “I was just turned today; I haven’t even drunk blood. You know I can’t lie to you.”
It was true. You could lie your way out of almost any situation, but for some reason, you had never been able to make yourself lie to Crowley and he knew it. He had taken advantage of this very fact once before to find out what the Winchesters were up to.
“I believe you, Love, but what can I do?” He lowered his knife and turned away from you.
“There’s a cure. Sam and Dean; they told me. I need the blood of Kern, the vamp who sired me, but I didn’t see him at the mansion. I don’t know how to find him.”
“I have heard of rumors of a cure, but……” He walked out of the room and returned several minutes later with a book in hand. “Yes, I found it.” He scanned the page. “This is actually quite easy. The hard part will be getting the sire’s blood.” He closed the book and dropped it onto the table next to you. With a wave of his hand, your arms were free and they fell to your sides.
You took an unsteady step forward and tripped. You didn’t hit the floor, however, because Crowley caught you. You looked up into his eyes and down to his lips. You found yourself wanting to fulfill an impossible fantasy; to kiss him. An involuntary smile crept across your face as his arms wrapped around you.
“You don’t know how long I have wanted to touch your lips and hold you tight,” He said after a moment. “But that will have to wait.” He helped you back to your feet and took your hand.
After an hour of searching the imprisoned vampires and not finding Kern, you and Crowley headed back to the torture room. You slumped to the floor and held your head in your hands.
“I’ll be stuck like this forever. I’m so thirsty; I won’t last much longer. You might as well kill me.”
“You think after I’ve told you how I feel that I would give up on you?” You looked up at him; determination on his face. Just then, you noticed the body on the table behind him.
“That’s him. That’s Kern.” You stood up and all but lept to the table. “No, he’s already dead.” With this realization, you let your head drop.
“That doesn’t matter.” Crowley lifted your face to look at him again. “He doesn’t have to be alive. We just need the blood.” He kissed you quickly on the lips before running around and gathering ingredients.
You barely noticed what he was doing. You touched the tip of your fingers to your mouth. He had kissed you. Your heart fluttered in your chest. Time seemed to stop as you had another fantasy of you and him together. It no longer mattered to you that he was a demon; that he was the King of Hell. You just wanted him to be yours.
Crowley broke your daydream when he handed you a glass jar. “Drink up. It won’t be pleasant, but you’ll feel better soon.”
“Just in case you’re wrong, I want to tell you something. I love you.” You tipped the jar to your mouth and drank.
“I’m not wrong, but I’ll tell you something as well. I love you too”
NEW OC… The Con Artist ! There’s a whole mythology here but dw about it. Ignore the fact that every time I draw my style changes
New oc!
NAME: Finny
He/They
24
6'3"
Likes: sweets, walking at night, gossip, being petty, sugary coffee, the rain, being unpredictable
Dislikes: police, people taller than him, any dude who calls himself a manchild, interacting with dogs (has a fear), being told what to do
