Twice Bit Tailor

- Crowley . Demon . Neutral - It began with Fergus Roderick McLeod, human male, dead as of 1661 Scotland. Roderick was a none-too-talented tailor, who sold his soul to reach double-digits below the waistline in a misguided bid for the love of his wife. It didn't work. But he did find his true calling as a salesman - or rather, a crossroads demon - during his subsequent stay to Hell. After Mike and Luci's little dance, Crowley spends most of his time traveling between safehouses, keeping an eye on the world - on the denim-clad duo with the darlingest angel especially - and consolidating power to ensure that he could, say, stop the Winchesters or other idiots from making his life on Earth worse. - Welcome to a 'WaywardOrphansRP' player blog -

[twicebittailor]

Reese's Pieces || Peter & Crowley

[waywardpsycho-deactivated201406]

"I haven’t considered myself ordinary in a long time." Reese remarked, though he really didn’t care to be that. Human life was a fleeting memory but from all that he endured during that time, he knew that no human life was ordinary but for the most part it was boring and at the end? It was a hell that he was scathed with. So now? As a demon? It was a new exciting life.

The scenery around the changed as this other demon snapped his fingers. Whoa. He wanted to learn how to do that, he thought. But before he could say anything, he realized he wasn’t exactly in the position - literally - to learn anything at all. Instead of standing up straight he was strapped down to some cold metal table of sorts. “What the hell…” He frowned, eyes dragging up to Crowley. He eyed the apron and chuckled. “What is this? Cooking with Demons hour?” Reese tried to make a joke but the truth was being bound to this table was making him nervous, though he tried not showing it on his face. “And what is so damn special about your alpha?”

[twicebittailor]

Sometimes, Crowley just couldn’t help but feel as though he was the only goddamned of the god-damned that cared for this thing called manners. “Has no one ever taught you possession etiquette in demon sunday school?” he asked. Except, bugger all, the Pit’s been sealed off these days. He’d have made some disparaging comment about the torturers down there otherwise, but instead, he just grimaced briefly as he walked over.

“My alpha means, mine, not yours,” he sort of singsonged. Then, he halted beside a tray and lifted an off-white cloth to reveal some rather archaic looking surgical instruments. There were rusted scalpels, forceps, pliers and... a lot of needles.

Daintily, he picked up a long, iron one. “And I’m Crowley,” he said with a twirl of the stick. “Crossroads King of Hell,” he continued as he held the werewolf’s jaw steady, “who does so love to cook."

The sharp tip drew a paper-thin trail upwards from Peter’s jugular, flirting past his ear to rest against his temple. “You can always smoke out before I smoke you out,” he added as he pressed the needle in.

[goredviscera]

[thelawofthrees-deactivated20140]

The Reckless Minimum || Addison & Crowley

[thelawofthrees-deactivated20140]

Fantastic. 

Addison’s inner monologue chimed in with bitter sarcasm. Not that the pudding cup and can of sardines she was looking at for her next meal was particularly appetizing, she wasn’t looking to be bunk buddies with a rather smarmy demon. She tried to tell herself, calmly, that if he was going to kill her at least he was probably going to wait until after she’d eaten something good. Demons liked to play games like that.

How Charming. 

She offered another smile, but it didn’t make it to her eyes and it seemed more incredulous than anything else. Well at least he wasn’t subtle about his intentions. “I would hate to take advantage of your hospitality,” she ventured slowly. Her blue eyes flicked over the demon again. Sizing him up. She was confident she could out run him, but three Hell hounds in an open space? She might be able to take out the dopey one before the other two drug her body back to him in a shape that was worse for the wear. 

It’s just your lucky day isn’t it Dr. Kingsely. What a special girl you are…

"I’m already going to Hell when I die. Supposing things get sorted. I wouldn’t want to waste your time you see? When I’ve already committed my sins. I don’t want to hold anybody as important as you up. If we ever meet again, I certainly don’t want to be remembered as that girl who gave you a headache and was a liar. Not good for the reputation you know? Not that I don’t appreciate your offer. I’ve just got nothing to give you," she nodded her head a few times. Trying to seem sincere. Hoping he’d see to some degree she was being honest. That maybe he’d let her slip away back into the woods neither of them worse off than they had been. 

[twicebittailor]

Crowley sized her up with a brief squint, but even with demonic sight, he saw no sign of another demon’s claim upon Addison’s soul. Rather, if anything, it still appeared to be up for grabs. Not without effort, of course. Effort that he wasn’t really bothered to make at the moment, but... no point in burning bridges before they were even built.

“Honesty..." A dubiously raised eyebrow.

"That's much appreciated,” he nodded. Along with the confirmation that she was at least aware of demon basics if not crossroads demons in particular. “Though, now, you’ve got me very curious. You’re so hard on yourself,” he tsked, shaking his head. “Why? Whatever for?

"Have you murdered? Lied before?" Pfft, who hasn't? "Been easy on the eyes in general?” He allowed a genuinely inquisitive look through as he trailed off, then offered a small, flirtatious grin.

“Granted, that last one's not a crime. If you’re so sure that you’re hellhound regardless though, do share." He stopped before the fire in front of her. "I’d love to get acquainted with a future neighbor."

[nova-arcania]

"Hello, Darlings. Happy Valentines Day."

[whoiskelsie]

Looooving my ukulele right now! #ukulele #stickers #supernatural #harrypotter #LOTR #cats

[twicebittailor]

In which Crowley has a very strange dream...

[aconitum-alpha]

Unleash the hound || Derek & Crowley

[aconitum-alpha]

"No need to strain yourself, dumpling. I like to add a personal touch when I leave my messages behind," That kind of sounded like a threat, in the way that Derek’s mind automatically jumped to his body on the floor with his intestines spelling out the demons name so his uncle would see it. Crazy, what your mind thinks of, isnt it. The fire however, mind the young Alpha’s mind jump to the past and he frowned a little.

"Well, you’re a clever one," There seemed to be a pattern of sarcasm slipping from the demons lips and Derek couldn’t help but cock his brow as he openly admitted that his uncle had bargained up his soul. Did that wolf have no shame? "His soul?" he wasn’t questioning it, he’d heard the demon loud and clear but hell, let’s face it, the other wolf didn’t have much of one to barter with, not after everything he’d done."The amount of damaged he’s caused I doubt it’s worth a dime." he smirked, giving a slight roll of his eyes as he did so. His uncle was stupid, but this took him to a whole new level, bartaring what was left of his tattered soul for a bit of power. He really was a psycho!

The demon said he had years left and Derek started to put it all together with the rumors he’d heard, the picture becoming clear. It didn’t make sense to him, but he was sure to someone as insane as Peter it seemed worth it. "So in what, another nine years or something, you get the remains of a soul that’s damned to hell anyway?" he laughed "Shouldn’t you be targeting people that won’t end up downstairs when their numbers up?" he shrugged as he looked over the alcohol behind the bar, offering the demon a drink.

"Thanks, boy." He groaned, his hues shooting in the direction of the other man "Don’t call me boy, don’t call me dumpling, or pup! You can call me Derek, and if that’s too many letters for you to handle, just call me Der." he stated and yanked down the scotch, his fingers sliding itno the glasses under the countertop and pulling two up and onto the bar before unscrewing the bottle top and pouring till the glasses were almost flooding over. He needed a drink, and seen as alcohol didn’t effect wolves like it did humans, a large one was in order.

He slid the full glass over the counter to the demon, not taking his eyes off him for a moment as he lifted his own glass to his lips and took a sip of the cool amber liquid. It hit the back of his throat with a light burn and he chuckled as he lowered the glass, "I know it’s the apocalypse, slim pickin’s and all that, but my uncle? Is he the best you can do?" he laughed.

[twicebittailor]

Crowley picked the glass up and studied it briefly, before taking a sniff and then a sip. He made a bit of a face at whatever he tasted though, pursing his lips slightly as his brows creased. ...Eh. He shrugged after a moment, and swallowed before setting the cup down on the counter again and refocusing on the young alpha.

"Oh, ye of little faith," the demon cooed. "Even the most worthless souls has their uses," he answered both charitably and condescendingly. "Now your uncle Peter... Peter's got a- shall we say, a spark?" He thought about the darkly flickering thing that he saw as the older alpha's soul, and there was a fond twinkle in his eyes for about a second. "He's got potential."

So did Derek. He squinted a bit. Definitely a brighter soul, though the death of some other innocent soul or souls stained it... Hm.

"And as a werewolf," Crowley began again offhandedly as he reached for his glass, "Heaven wouldn't take him even if he were a saint. So what's one more deal with a devil," he paused, looking down as he took a second sip before he looked back up at Derek, and smoothly continued, “when you'd be sure to spend the rest of your mortal life living it just the way you want?"

He smirked. "After all, this is the apocalypse... Dear."

Pup had some balls to demand a specific form of address when he was still a hot mess, Crowley thought. It was actually kind of fun to play with a puppy... Leave a seed of hope for a way out of this life. Obvious or not, it'll grow. Lil' spitfire'll probably latch onto the insult first...

Better than moping on the godamed state of them Gates anyway, or the other thing- "Do you even know where your darling uncle is?"

[twicebittailor]

Reese's Pieces || Peter & Crowley

[waywardpsycho-deactivated201406]

Reese let out a surprised gasp as he was slammed against the wall, knocking away cans of peanuts and bags of candy. It clashed against the ground, nearly muffling the gasp he released. This was unusual for the demon. He had been the stronger one up until now and yet here he found that another was challenging him. Crowley…Crowley…the name sounded familiar but with the apocalypse’s genesis, he hadn’t exactly learned every Tom, Dick, and Harry’s name in hell before he started scavenging this place looking for rides in people. 

Pinned against the wall, he shook his head and said, “I didn’t know he was claimed. I’m kinda new to this whole demon thing…” He cleared his throat - or tried - and furrowed his brows at the dark haired man. “But he’s been a good ride so far, I must say. I’ve had a lot of fun in this body and truthfully, I don’t think I’m gonna. So why don’t you just put me down and we can talk about this like ordinary men…or…” He tilted his head from side to side thoughtfully. “Whatever. What do you say?”

Growing weak in his presence, Reese?

Shut up…

[twicebittailor]

'Kinda new'... Peh. That much's obvious.

Crowley let go and stepped back like he'd been touching something positively icky. All he really heard from this stranger, this lesser demon, was an 'I like it here so how about no?' Yes, well, how about no to that right back.

"What do I say? Hm..." He spoke slowly as he scrutinized the thing riding Peter. "Well, I'm more of the 'proper sociopath' rather than the 'ordinary man,'" and there were so many other ways to skin a cat, he thought with a dark, fiendish chuckle. "If that's even what you consider yourself.

"Makes a girl curious," he raised a hand as he spoke. With a snap of his fingers, he teleported Reese to a different location - which appeared to be some sort of underground dungeon without a door. After a moment, he arrived as well, his fancy suit replaced by something more casual, with an old, bloodstained apron and surgical gloves. "Whatever makes you think I'd let you ride him for long?"

[aconitum-alpha]

Unleash the hound || Derek & Crowley

[aconitum-alpha]

Derek was a little preoccupied holding the towel to his leg to notice the demon showing the hell pup who was boss. He gave the intruder a cock of his brow as he heard him say the hound wasn’t his, looking to him just in time to see that rather proud grin as he stated that his were bigger. “Great.” he mumbled to himself as he finally pulled the towel from his wound as he felt the skin stretching, healing.

"The name’s Crowley," "Derek." he replied almost immediately, instinct taking over as he started to push himself up off the floor, the torn flesh now looking like a mere cat scratch as he hopped a little, feeling the weight on it was still a little too much to bare. “friend of… Peter’s.” That really did have the wolf curious, he looked over the man, dressed all in black, like a stereotypical demon. It didn’t take too long before he was putting two and two together and getting four.. this was the crossroads deal demon that made Peter an Alpha again, it must of been, and his scent was familiar, like second hand smoke, the wolf had noticed it on his uncles clothes.

"I keep tabs on my friends, boy." Boy? What the fuck was it with all these demons calling him a boy. Did he look like a fucking five year old? "It’s Derek." He had to growl at the name and even more as this Crowley guy said Peter had been possessed. 

Reese… yeah, he’d noticed that when he’d been pinned down, though the situation did have it’s perks, Derek got to ask some questions he knew Peter would never answer honestly, but the demon inside his head, well he seemed to love telling the truth, as long as he thought it would be destructive. “As you might of guessed, he’s not here at the moment, I’d offer to take a message, but pen and paper have become a rarity lately.” he was being a little sarcastic, which was probably slightly suicidal seen as he knew nothing about Crowley, but Derek wasn’t a think first kind of guy.

"So I presume you’re the demon that made him an Alpha again?" Derek asked, a slight growl emanating from the back of his throat as he spoke, still slightly peeved that his uncle was back to being an Alpha, that they were on an even keel, so to speak. “What did he have to give you for that?” he asked, really curious, and if he was honest, in those moment, he wondered what he would ask for, if the price wasn’t too high, though he had a feeling it was something he wouldn’t want to pay. He and Peter had different morals when it came to things like that.

"Not bad" The wolf glanced around the bar, and the spirits that still stood behind the counter, nodding "I try to keep it stocked." he admitted and let his foot rest on the floor fully, feeling it back to normal. He chuckled as he moved past the demon and to the counter, pulling down a bottle of scotch. "Fancy a drink before I kick you out?"

[twicebittailor]

"Derek..." Crowley looked him up and down, with a vaguely mocking dose of impressed.

"Well, isn't that a pity." It wasn't immediately clear whether he was referring to the werewolf or the werewolf's words, but the demon didn't allow the statement to sit idle for long. "No need to strain yourself, dumpling. I like to add a personal touch when I leave my messages behind," he gestured with fire briefly flickering at his fingertips.

When the boy called him out, Crowley barely raised a brow. "Well, you're a clever one," he answered dryly. "Yes... That would be me."

Then came a refreshingly unexpected question of what dear Peter had to give in return - because even if someone's never met a true crossroads demon before, surely they could guess from stories... Not a big reader perhaps?

Another pity about living in the end times...

"Why, what would any decent, self-respecting crossroads demon accept from a client, but-" Crowley had begun pleasantly until he reached "-their SOUL?" The last word came out heavy, just the slightest hint of feral, and with a definite echo of the unearthly.

He smiled, the picture of the perfectly presentable English businessman in a fancy shmancy suit.

"But he's got years left 'til it's time to collect." He said, almost reassuringly. "I was just dropping by to see how your uncle's faring - maybe share a drink and a chat," Crowley shrugged.

With the backhanded invitation to get himself a drink, Crowley moved to do just that, snagging two glasses from the counter and holding them out to the young alpha. If the kid wasn't going to see to his leg any time soon, Crowley supposed he could always wait until his help was required. "Thanks, boy. Don't mind if I do."

[twicebittailor]

"I trusted you!"

"Good God," the crossroads demon looked genuinely baffled by the half-faerie's outburst. "Whatever for?"

"This is the apocalypse, Sunshine. Hell on earth!" He gestured loosely as he flicked the blood from an angel blade. "You shouldn't be giving anyone your trust." He flicked a look towards a previous failed business partner and snidely added, "A lesson I learned from the angels, in fact."

[twicebittailor]

"What have you done!?"

"Oh, Fenrir," Crowley practically cooed as he eyed the skyclad were-demon strapped to the makeshift rack. It wasn't anything near as sturdy as the ones in Hell, but Earth had always been more than sufficient enough for his purposes.

"The better question would be to ask what haven't I done, don't you think?"

But oh, he did have a bit of a soft spot for this one.

"Here." He held up a small mirror to Peter's face, so that the alpha could see the lush, velvet black of his angry eyes. "New look, but you're still gorgeous, darling."

He smiled beatifically as he watched the realization sink in.

"Now," he put the mirror down and carefully adjusted his surgical gloves. "Need I remind you of all the clauses and subclauses in our contract? ...I'd be happy to go through each and every one of them with you," he said as he sank his hand deep into the wolf's chest and began to fish around.

"All. Over. Again."

[twicebittailor]

"I thought you changed."

"Oh, I do try, darling. Every day,” he said after sizing dear Addy up. “Notice the new boutonnière?” The demon gestured at the red rose on his lapel.

"But seriously, what did you expect?" He was the former King of Hell and the lovely lass had all but just handed him the last, most obscure pieces to some wretchedly difficult spell to reopen the Gates of Hell. Was he not supposed to make even the smallest attempt?

"I only need a ‘living daughter of man’ as a canvas and here you are," he murmured as he painted the blackish-red goop on the hog-tied woman. "I’m not going to lie, of course - and I like you. The last bit’s seriously gonna hurt."

[twicebittailor]

"This is your fault!"

Crowley went still, utterly silent as he replayed the young woman's words in his head.

"Are you daft?" To be so young and probably hard of hearing.

"I was the King of Hell. Was." And boy did it burn him to admit it. "Not the childish, narcissistic, so-called daddy of all demons, who's actually an over-powered bag of dicks and an angel bent on eradicating the entire human race because his daddy didn't love him as much as he thought he should.

"If you'll looking for someone to blame, his name's Lucifer. He'll probably answer in person if you keep whining - I mean praying hard enough."

With that, the demon disappeared into the shadows. He didn't want to stick around, because who knew if the stupid girl wouldn't try calling out to the Devil just to spite him?

[twicebittailor]

Stay away from me!

"With pleasure," Crowley answered dryly, rolling his eyes at alpha junior's dramatics.

"Look, boy cub, we both know it's not you I'm here for." It was high time to fetch Fenrir's soul after all, but somehow, the older Hale was playing hard to get now.

Well, that wouldn't do.

"Want me gone? Just be a good lad and point me in the direction your merry murderer uncle, and I'll go give 'im hell." There was a sly, dubious pause. "Or is that what you're afraid of?"

[malevolentqueen-archive]

send me one of the following

"Don’t lie to me."

"You promised…"

"I thought you changed."

"You were supposed to be different."

"I trusted you!"

"I loved you once."

"This is your fault!"

"Tell me they’re lying."

"Please, don’t do this!"

"I don’t believe you."

"What have you done!?"

"You’re never going to change."

"I can’t even look at you right now."

"Tell me the truth!"

"Why won’t you look at me?"

"Stay away from me!"

"… I hate you."

[twicebittailor]

Reese's Pieces || Peter & Crowley

[waywardpsycho-deactivated201406]

People needed to lighten up. Yeah, yeah, he got that he was a demon and oh watch out those things were apparently evil. But as long as he wasn’t physically hurting people, then what was the big deal? Reese supposed that mental damaged was so much far worse than physical damage. You had to live with what you endured, images and thoughts seared into your brain for the rest of your life. Perhaps that’s why he preferred it so much than slicing people open with blades. He liked seeing their reaction when the truth spilled over.

The Hale nephew had been so much fun to play with and that Frankie girl he met shortly after had been a thrill as well. They didn’t like they way he picked at him and he was sure if they met again, that he’d be meeting some sort of death. Of course Derek would rip right through his uncle’s meat just to get at his blackened soul. After his meeting with the two, the demon Reese went along his merry way to go through the town and see who else he could find to mind fuck when he came across an old gas station. “You hungry, wolf? I might want a candy bar or something.”

Go to hell…

"Already been, thanks."

Reese had just opened the door and was going into the freezing room when he felt a presence followed by a voice. Suddenly digits were being wrapped around his neck tightly and he came face to face with another meat suit. Whoever was inside him knew the alpha werewolf and he frowned. You know a demon?

Crowley…Peter figured and almost wanted to call out for help but decided against it. The demon would only make fun of him for it.

"Crowley," Reese greeted him through gritted teeth. "That’s who you are, right?" His hand clasped over the one that gripped him and he made an attempt to loosen it. "You mind letting go? And what do you mean your wolf?"

[twicebittailor]

If there was one thing that Crowley could not stand, it was to go unrecognized. And to have some dickfaced jerkwad poach upon his territory. And parade the fact in front of him. And- Okay, so he had more than a couple of pet peeves. But for the most part, the demon did try to keep a lid on. Bad for business if he flew off the handle at the littlest thing after all, because hello, Hell.

But here he was, knocked off his throne and not because of treachery or incompetence or anything he'd done to deserve it, really. Just. Gates. Shut.

And for the longest time, there were supposedly no keys.

Then, there were.

Mind, he prefered life on earth. Had been human after all. It was just that life right now was highly inconvenient, and this here - Peter possessed - was the straw that broke the camel's back.

Crowley's eyes narrowed dangerously as he studied the demon-slash-ghost riding along side the comparatively brighter soul. After a moment, he shoved the werewolf up against a wall, heedless of the rickety, ransacked shelves there, and growled, "I don't know what kind of rude, backwater moron you'd have to be to dare take and stay in possession of one whose soul is already marked by another, but you will smoke out if you know what is good for you." He sneered, slamming the back of the other man's head against the wall and lowered his voice warningly.

"Do I make myself clear?"

[aconitum-alpha]

Unleash the hound || Derek & Crowley

[aconitum-alpha]

The pain in his calf was drowned out by the scratching at the door, the noises from the hellhound behind it, making the wolf focus on something other than the feeling. But he still needed that towel, needed to stop the bleeding. His fingers were brushing against the material, it was within his grasp, and then the door stopped moving, things fell silent, or rather, less loud.

The Alpha’s brow cocked as he gave up on the towel and sat straight, putting his weight in to holding the door in place as he wondered why the thing outside had calmed down. Surely it hadn’t just given up? Had it caught the scent of another meal? Stiles… his mind automatically went to the thought of his boy and he was almost growling, inhaling, but there wasn’t even a hint of the human in the area, and Derek was tuned in to the boys frequency. The hound had just stopped, for no reason, it seemed. The calm before the storm perhaps?

"Hello, boy." A growl escaped the wolf as his hues shot to the man stood there by the counter, looking over him like he was displeased with what he was seeing. Derek was automatically agitated thanks to the mans choice of words, choice of nickname, and the fact this guy had a demonic scent. His lips parted to ask how the stranger got in when the other spoke, telling him to reach for the towel and the wolf’s eyes slipped to the door behind him, not sure that was the best idea with the creature outside, "while I hold off the hellpup." and completely unsure if he could trust this… man.

"Who are you?" he asked, looking back to the stranger. "And how did you get in my bar?" the emphasis was on the ‘my’, marking his territory so to speak, and he gave a narrow of his eyes, suspicious, cautious, before he leaned forwards gingerly, and let his fingers find the material again, tugging at it, managing to pull it from the table, immediately wrapping it around his wound, pressing down to try and slow the blood flow till his healing abilities kicked in.

Pushing himself up and off the floor, Derek let his gaze wander back to the man, to the demon, scanning him, taking him in, the dark coat, the rough chin and the rather pompous smile that seemed to be placed on his face, whether the demon knew it or not.

"He yours?" he let his head tilt to the side, towards the hound behind the door. "Little big for a housepet isn’t he?" sarcasm and disdain hanging from his voice.

[twicebittailor]

"That one?" The demon tilted his chin towards the hellhound beyond the door, but kept his laughing eyes upon the wounded werewolf instead. It was funny how the young man was so aggressive and hot-blooded, whereas his only other surviving relative seemed more laid back. Well, 'still waters' and all that... The hellhound in his grasp twisted and squirmed and tried to get out of his chokehold. In turn, Crowley asserted more strength on the hellspawned creature, pressing it to heel and replied, "Not mine." 

He grinned impishly, and further enunciated, "Mine are bigger." The three were still searching the town for signs of Reese though. Not that Crowley felt threatened enough to recall them to his side. Derek was just an alpha. Ah, but since he was in the alpha's den, it was only polite to clarify his purpose here, he supposed. Time to answer a few questions then.

"The name's Crowley," he replied with a semi-stately bow. "I'm a crossroads demon. And a friend of... Peter's." Whom he usually called Fenrir, but that would probably just confuse the lad here, so he didn't use the nickname. "As for why I'm here, well..." How to put it in such a way that it didn't sound like he was too concerned? He tilted his head consideringly. "I keep tabs on my friends, boy. Frankly, your uncle's been possessed. Mentioned something about this place though, so here I am," Crowley shrugged.

"What to do about the stray though..." Probably attracted a bunch of croats just by being loud, he supposed. So with a focused look and a mental push, he dragged the hellhound away from the house, then set it loose. Having gotten a hold of it to begin with, the crossroads demon had it tagged. Run along now, puppy. Crowley figured that he might pick the mut up later, that is... if it survived long enough for him to find it again.

Crowley refocused on Derek, studied the spread of the bloodstain on the towel and the way the werewolf held himself, then turned towards the bar, taking stock of what was available. "Not bad," he glanced back towards Derek with some amusement.

Then, his gaze zeroed in on Peter's couch.

[garden-of-everything]

[twicebittailor]

mistaken lover...