I…that Wasn’t Even The Point. But I Guess Since We’re Talking About It, You Were More Of A Mother

Warlock’s probably getting moved to @forgottenxarchangel and this’ll just be a personal blog. The url will be the same, I just don’t think there’s any point for me to have 2 separate rp blogs.

*heavy sigh*.

OK, how can I help?

ABIGAIL WHAT THE FUCKING HELL HAPPENED TO DAD

I DON'T KNOW, OKAY? THE BOOKSHOP BLEW UP, WE'RE WORKING ON IT!

(@crwlee)

Warlock's face shifted through several emotions in a few seconds.  His still half-shut eyes lit up when Nanny called him 'dear boy' and the corners of his lips twitched into a tired smile before dropping again when he glance down at the word 'grown'...he realized he was probably taller than Nanny now, nothing like the spindly pale 11 year old he was last time they saw him.   

And then Nanny's voice changed and he froze as his face shifted to confusion and recognition when he looked up.  He'd heard that voice before in a dream.  It had been a whisper, but that same dream had provided his chosen surname...

Then that question...'how'.  His eyes turned panicked for a moment.  He'd never told ANYONE, even Nanny, that he saw their wings or about the other strange things concerning himself. Even as a kid he knew it wasn't normal, and despite Nanny's obvious affection for him, he was afraid of them rejecting him.  His hand reached up and ran through his hair mechanically as he quickly selected a 'sane' answer.  His eyes turned cold calm, masking the panic, as he forced a smile.

"Your voice," was all that came out, a little harsher than he intended. He reached a hand towards the light switch on the wall next to him and mentally flicked it on.   His hand was close enough that a human would think he'd actually touched switch.  He blinked a little in the light and went to pick up Nanny's glasses from where they fell on the carpet.

warlock-nottheantichrist-dowling‌:

Warlock tensed up. That was not a voice he expected to hear again, not while he was awake at least.  If he hadn’t just thrown a shoe at them, he’d assume this was just another dream.  He studied them for a minute.  There was no mistaking that was Nanny Ashtoreth…same eyes, same wings, same voice.

“Nanny?  What’re you doing here?” he asked. Not that he didn’t want them here, he was just a little shocked.  It’d been a long time since he’d seen them, way to long in his own opinion.  “And sorry about the shoe, though you were someone else,” he said, walking a little closer, but still keeping his distance. 

   “Checking up on you dear.” and out came the voice again, with the Scottish brogue he hadn’t used since Warlock here was just a child. “My how you’ve grown.” forgetting himself for a moment to long faced with the child he’d practically raised. 

   Until that single brain cell he most certainly shared with Aziraphale ticked back into his skull, and he realized he wasn’t exactly dressed in a way dear Warlock should remember. “Hold on –” the voice of Ashtoreth dropped away then, as Crowley’s brows knit. “ – how’d could you tell it was me?” it wasn’t like it was the farthest of stretches. When he’d modeled his Ashtoreth look he’d kept his favored color scheme, a little cinch at the waist, a touch more of a feminine look ( not that his normal attire didn’t already play fast and loose with humanities concept of ‘gender’ ) but it was still rather surprising to the demon, and to be honest a relief.  

Ahh, the fake child! Hello, Warlock. I'm your not-father.

Warlock looks warily at Lucifer, crossing his arms. “Hi… Can I ask what you’re doing here?”

He pauses

“And don’t you mean WRONG child? Not fake. It was an accident.”

*He nods and smiles. It’s not the teasing grin from earlier but more of an unsure smile like he’s thinking of doing something that might embarrass himself*

Ok. Just between you, me, and Dad.

Ok, everyone please quit picking in Mom. He’s a very scary demon with the reputation to prove it.

We’ve been over this: I’m not your mother, she just paid me to take care of you because she’s…a busy woman.

Oh…I won’t tell him. But how did he end up being that bad? He’s an angel. And why’d you let me throw cake at him?

@warlocknottheantichristdowling look what I found! It was in the boot of my car!

He took a deep breath, thinking. Crowley had said it wasn’t a problem if he could learn control. “I guess just figure out how not to break stuff…and how to do stuff without being upset?”

*tackle hugs from behind then buries face in Crowley’s wings*

Wh—?! Oh, it’s you! Hello little lad.

The boy thinks for a minute. “It started after my eleventh birthday, so a little over 2 years ago…and no one else knows. I’ve been trying to work on it since it started, but I can’t seem to control it at all.” He bites his lip, but is now looking expectantly at Nanny, leaning into the touch. If anyone can help, it would be Crowley.

*tackle hugs from behind then buries face in Crowley’s wings*

Wh—?! Oh, it’s you! Hello little lad.

I just discovered Black Veil Brides and have been listening to ‘Bleeders’ on repeat for 2 days.

[Open Starter]

This was stupid…another night, another nightmare, and another heluva hard time trying to figure out where in heaven’s name these were coming from.  

Sure, he’d dreamed about the trip to the desert…that was a recurring nightmare since he was eleven.  Some how his parents didn’t remember and made him feel like he was mad to even come up with something like that.  But that wasn’t like these.  Just like that one felt real, so did these ones; however, unlike that nightmare, which he knew he had been apart of, none of the others felt that way.  They all just felt like something that he shouldn’t know about, but did.  Something he should’ve been able to prevent but couldn’t.  

So, here he was, sitting on a park bench at 11 o’clock at night with nothing over his clothes but a light coat…