TVSTRANGERTHINGS
trying on a metaphor
blake kathryn
EXPECTATIONS
cherry valley forever
noise dept.
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Andulka
gracie abrams
Claire Keane
untitled
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
★
Show & Tell
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
pixel skylines
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official daine visual archive
Mike Driver
Misplaced Lens Cap
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
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seen from Japan
seen from Ukraine
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@pickabloodyside
This is easily one of my favorite drawings of Crowley that I’ve done this year… …and yet I haven’t been able to share it with anybody since FEBRUARY!!!!
*Laughs* I am happy I got the chance to do one of the postcards for the deluxe extras of the @supernaturalartbook since my official entry in the book was NOT a Crowley piece [kinda felt bad…but other demons need love too],needed to balance that out somehow.
amadnessofmuses:
Ignoring everything but the question at hand, how the hell was he supposed to know what Crowley was going to get out of hunting. Everyone he met got something different, hell depending on his mood he got something different out of it. Some days it was getting laid, some days it was the need to kill something, the hunt, the chase, the feeling of skin giving way to metal and life giving way to death. Sometimes it was the thrill of knowing that he had saved someone who deserved to live, that innocent people trying to fly home to see their families had made it safely. Then there were the days where it was just what he did. It was a job, it was waking up early and spending hours hunched over a computer because he had too because it was his own personal nine to five, it was what he did to know that there was something in his life and he wasn’t just a drift in an ocean of nothing.
It wasn’t something he could tell Crowley, he could but he didn’t think the demon would understand. He wasn’t human enough to, though he was going through a midlife crisis so maybe he would.
“I don’t have an answer for you man. I have a million and one reasons that I do it given the day. From wantin’ to feel something die by my hands to knowing I saved a mother so some four year old kid doesn’t have to raise his 6 month old brother to simply just needing something to do. The thing is Sammy and I say, saving people, hunting things but it’s more than that. It’s what I do, it’s my job and I get that it isn’t yours but you have one and you hate or it hates you or whatever but in the end it’s something to pass the time.”
He glanced over at Crowley as he shrugged and kept on driving, heading them in the direction of the nearest watering hole he wouldn’t be too embarrassed to be seen drinking with fruity umbrellas next to him.
For no reason he could explain, it felt good to hear Dean admit that sometimes he just liked to kill things. Crowley knew it, of course. It was obvious to anyone who’d seen him in action. It was a good thing for humanity that Dean’s life had worked out the way it did, or he might have come out a very efficient little serial killer.
Maybe.
“Something to pass the time,” he repeated, almost under his breath. That didn’t sound like enough of a reason. But Crowley had always had a motivation; power, glory, uh… power, mostly, and of course, a longer schlong. None of those motivations had served him particularly well. He’d had a few laughs, but ultimately, here he was. None of the more altruistic purposes interested him much. Not that Crowley particularly wished people harm; he’d just been around too long to care if someone reach their predicted lifespan or not. When he helped, it was to curry favor, or to annoy whoever was on the bad side.
Would it be impossible to shift his priorities? No illusion that he could be a true white hat, but would that really matter? Living forever wasn’t going to be nearly as much fun as intended if he didn’t find something to fill his days.
“You drive like an old woman,” he finally said, rather than puke his ruminations all over Dean. A stupid criticism that was patently untrue, but he was feeling ornery.
Finally, I’m proud to show you my contribution to the @supernaturalartbook project.
Secret Agents AU: Interpol!Crowley and CIA!Cas
amadnessofmuses:
Dean rolled his eyes when Crowley asked about Sam and getting himself tangled up in books at the library. Dude was so worried about Sam.
“Should I text him and ask him out for you?”
He looked over at Crowley as he started baby up listening to her purr beneath them and flashed him a grin.
“I have to warn you, he’s a hand full. I don’t know if you could handle it. All those limbs and he rarely dates, the kids looking for love. So if I am gonna ask for you, you better be committed to this.”
It was too easy, he couldn’t help tease him. Plus the idea of his brother and Crowley together was hilarious. Crowley had to be a full person shorter than Sam at least, okay maybe not a full person but it would be hilarious to watch. Just the thought of seeing them try to make out had Dean chuckling.
“Oh, please,” Crowley snarled. “Don’t let your lack of a healthy childhood make you see high school drama when there’s nothing more or less than my very real concern that your oafish brother might speak Latin in front of the wrong book and start the apocalypse again.”
Ooh, that felt good. Crowley sat up a little straighter in his seat. Nothing like a good zinger to invigorate the soul.
“Turn off that filthy brain of yours for one minute. And name me something that I, personally, the most selfish creature on God’s green earth and Heaven’s sterile corridors and for that matter, Hell’s burning caverns, would get out of hunting? Assume, for kicks, that I have no interest in the grateful sighs of rescued humans.” He crossed his arms. “I fully realize that’s probably your go-to method for getting laid, but I have a natural charm.”
amadnessofmuses:
Crowley in a sports car, he could almost see it, something small, compact and fast, something red. It wasn’t all together a terrible idea and it may sway him from some midlife crisis apocalypse at least.
“I hardly think that vampires are a take over the world situation.”
Dean shook his head then and reached out to slap the man on the back before heading to the car.
“You want a ride or you gonna do that weird smokey thing?”
He pulled open the driver door and slid in, leaning over to pull the lock on the passenger door for him. He wasn’t sure what he was getting himself into here or why he was getting himself into it at all. He didn’t hate the guy, as much as he should. He should hate him more, at least he should try to.
Crowley shrugged; didn’t really matter if he rode along. If he was drinking with Dean there was no discernable advantage to getting there quicker. He slumped into the front seat and prepared a series of complaints he didn’t bother to unleash because they were so blatantly trivial, and because you couldn’t realistically get a record player into a cashboard and tapes were the next best thing.
“Might as well,” he said, slumping into the bench seat. It was comfortable, he had to admit that.
“Sure the moose will be alright by himself? He might get tangled up in a library book or something. I hear that’s what all the cool kids are doing these days.”
Crowley stared out the window. Quit and be a hunter. It was a ridiculous idea, even if he had saved these two overgrown pups more than once. That was always on his own terms, and with his own ends in sight.
Crowley Aesthetics;
@thekingsparty
amadnessofmuses:
Dean looked down at his duds again, fingers moving protectively over the suit he was wearing, yeah it wasn’t a King of Hell suit but it wasn’t bad, better than he used to wear. Looking back up he nodded listening as the demon talked himself in to something. It sounded like a hunting job but Dean new better. Crowley no matter how much he might want to change wouldn’t. At least he didn’t think that he would. Hell maybe he would surprise him, he always seemed to. That was bearing in mind he wasn’t choosing to ignore the times when Crowley had done just as he said and showed up to save their asses, Cas included.
He was also going to chose to ignore the question of taking care of the vamps on his own. He had been dealing with vamps for years now, surly Crowley didn’t think that he needed help with them. He didn’t.
“So what, your bouncing to get a drink and mule over the mid life crisis your having then?”
Why was he asking, he was already regretting the words sitting on the edge of his tongue.
“You gonna want some company for that?”
They’d hung out before; it wouldn’t be weird to do it now. Then again he wasn’t all demon’d up inside so maybe it was. Hell he didn’t know, he just didn’t want the demon moping off and taking out a town cause he’d convinced himself he needed to relive his glory days or something.
Mid-life crisis? Was he too old for that? No, he was too young for that – Crowley didn’t plan on dying any time soon. Or at all. But it seemed appropriate. Maybe that was what was happening here. He shrugged irritably.
“Well, I’d say I’d get a sports car, but we both know that thanks to a certain demon deal, I’ve got nothing to compensate for. So drinking seems like a solid option.” And did he want company? Demon Dean had been a blast, terrible karaoke notwithstanding, didn’t mean he’d be as entertaining now. Human. Crowley had a lot of regrets; how that particular road trip had ended was certainly one of them.
Yes, he wanted company. But Dean had an irritating capacity to put into words whatever Crowley was thinking, and it was exhausting and annoying. If he wanted a human to understand him, there were hookers on every street corner who could fake it and not challenge him.
“I suppose company wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.”
The words were out of his mouth before he could slap them back.
“Thought you had a world to save, though. You really want to leave that to the moose? That was redundant. No karaoke.”
“Angel on My Shoulder, and the Devil to My Right”
Long title but whatevs. Here they are side by side just for funsies?
Castiel / Crowley
The SPN Season 12 Finale ripped out a part of my soul. These gifs break my heart all over again.
gifs from Google images
amadnessofmuses:
There was something different about the demon these days, he felt defeated and quiet, he felt lost and adrift like even he didn’t know what he wanted out of his life any more. He was reminded of Cas and what he had said once when they had been talking about Claire, how he was really old and entitled to a midlife crisis. He didn’t know how old Crowley was but he felt like he was having the same thing right now.
“Vampire nest I think, people missing in town, bodies drained of blood. Unless your mom has moved on to weirder than her normal I think we are safe.”
He wondered what he should suggest next for the demon to do. What was there to do when you were sick of demons and had been king of hell for years.
“I know why don’t you become a hunter.”
He flashed the demon a grin, he would hate it, Sam would hate it but in all honesty it was what the demon had been doing for years with them. Helping them when they needed it, always lending a spell or a hand, he wasn’t far from it already.
Vampires. Too tacky to even really be considered dangerous. Surely there were a few boy scouts running around who could do the job instead?
Crowley narrowed his eyes, and looked Dean up and down.
“A hunter? Not sure I’ve got the wardrobe for that,” he said, though Dean was looking as delicious as always, and the insult fell flat. “If you call that a wardrobe. I have a lifestyle I’ve become accustomed to, Dean. Ugly motels aren’t really my thing.” Of course, he wouldn’t have to drive, he could live anywhere he wanted, and just show up when he wanted to, or when he was needed. He could… what the bloody hell was he doing. He was talking himself into it, that was what he was bloody well doing, and it was ridiculous.
He stared into the distance a moment.
“It is, occasionally, fun,” he admitted. “And you’d probably be dead twenty times over – twenty more times over – if it wasn’t for my impeccable timing.”
But could he actually be the Winchesters beck and call girl?
… he practically was already.
“I need to drink heavily,” he said, with a sigh. “You can handle a bunch of vampires on your own, can’t you?”
make me choose: @funnycas asked: crowley or lucifer
“As you may recall, patience isn’t one of my virtues. Well, I don’t have any virtues, but if I did, I’m certain that patience wouldn’t be one.”
You’re Good But I’m Crowley [ 1/? ] ↳ Favorite Reactions
Don’t worry about – what, like Lucifer didn’t worry? Or Michael? Or Lilith or Alastair or Azazel didn’t worry?! Am I the only game piece on the board who doesn’t underestimate those denim-wrapped nightmares?!
he’s so adorable when he gets all threatening
Crowley by Euclase. Drawn in PS. Please do not remove credit.
King of Hell - Great entrance
amadnessofmuses:
Dean looked down at the jacket he was wearing, he could use a new blazer especially if it was gonna be tailored, that however prolly wasn’t the actual point Crowley was looking to make.
“I’m not saying retire dude, unless you want to and then why not. I mean you did the Hell thing, you did the rule Hell thing.”
Dean gave a small shrug.
“Or make them respect you again. Kill them off, dig out other souls and make more. Just know if you get to top dog, Sammy and I may have to take you out.”
With friends like Dean Winchester, who needed friends?
And Crowley didn’t need friends at all. No compatriots, no pals; he needed minions. He didn’t miss Dean’s company, that was clear as day, obvious.
“Ooh, Winchesters, I’m terrified,” he sang.
Although, to be fair, they’d come close enough before. Crowley’s shoulder slumped, defeated. No, he needed time, and a plan. Buddying up with hunters was always a bad idea, even hunters who knew all the best burger joints.
“And maybe you could become a guidance counsellor.” There was no venom in it. Maybe he was running out. Typical of his week. “And what are you the scent of? Chasing werewolves? Picking fights with my mother’s clan?”
