#dukeofell

[my-other-ride-is-a-bentley]

...Shit, ’m awake. When’d that happen? Did I miss anything?

(Talking to you, Hastur.)

[princeoftadfield]

here kitty kitty -- dukeofell

Adam perked his blond furred ears, nose twitching. He was alert for half a minute before settled slightly, holding a hand over his mouth as he gave a wide yawn. His long, fluffy tail swished back and forth lazily. 

[ineffablyinfernal]

The Bentley blazed down the road. Well. Blazed was perhaps a sensitive word to use around the car. It had, in fact, "blazed" once, an actual great ball of fire flying down the M40. He was repenting for that one. The Bentley hadn't been pleased.

Blazing was also incorrect, as he didn't have his headlights lit, in the middle of the night, so... can a black car on a black road truly blaze?

Regardless, he pulled up to the cemetery at roughly 12:03, and headed in. Let's get this over, eh?

[my-other-ride-is-a-bentley]

Crowley'd found the note just under the mailslot, while he'd been watering the fern by the front door to his apartment. He'd stared at it a moment, at the blankness of its envelope, giving nothing away as to who'd sent it.

It was stupid of him, really. He didn't know who he expected it to be from.

(Ker didn't want anything to do with him. That was clear enough. It was wearying, but obvious. It was just as well. He was exhausted, anyway. And it's not like he'd expected much - well, maybe he had, for a foolish instant. But at least he knew Ker wasn't dead. That helped - no, it really did. It was enough.)

He stared at the messy scrawl blankly, absently digesting the words.

(He hadn't been talking to Hastur, with that post. He hadn't been talking to anyone. And this letter had reminded him of how exhausting it was, to talk to Hastur. He wanted to apologize? Now? After the crippling loneliness period had passed, and the numbing agent long set in? If Hastur had wanted anything to do with him, he should have said so two weeks ago. When it hadn't been a month since. When Crowley hadn't started fortifying himself behind the walls he'd need to survive before being able to go to sleep for another century or so. But now? With Hastur already running to AJ, like he'd never even existed? No. Not even because of that - Hastur running to AJ was understandable, even if Crowley wasn't thinking about it with a bitter edge. No. If he thought about it, fairly, it made sense - AJ had been the only one to treat Hastur right. Crowley just wasn't able to do it, platonic feelings notwithstanding.

But they'd just keep making each other sick. It was too late.

It was too much.)

Crowley dropped the letter on the floor by the mail slot where he'd found it, and turned to head back to his bedroom.

It was snowing again.

Maybe if he sat still long enough he'd freeze like that.

[meltingpenguins]

Candy. Caaaaandy. Tell Hastur to tell me his favourite timeperiod.

[armoredhost]

Commission #1 for semiramis-audron: her version of the Metatron, to whom I just realized I forgot to give a suitable amount of arm hair, and my version of Hastur, who I have no comment on here except that he probably just sneezed violently and wondered who was talking about him. (She also asked for Michael/Metatron, but that one isn't finished yet.)

I'm not putting this in the main tag, are you kidding

[meltingpenguins]

Duke Hastur - Mucha Style

[getarmageddon-blog]