He Took A Deep Breath, Thinking. Crowley Had Said It Wasn’t A Problem If He Could Learn Control. “I

*He hugs tighter when he feels the angel shiver and cry, then he gently rubs Aziraphale's back*

It's gonna be alright, Dad.  We can fix this.   *He says it very softly, as if he’s afraid the Angel will break*

*hug*

*He takes the hug wordlessly and shivers into the boy's hair. This might actually be his breaking point, as the tears begin to fall finally. What an unfair thing, to worry a child.*

Ok, a couple Warlock Headcanons

He’s very much so Pan

He’s some kinda psychic (he doesn’t really understand it, he just knows that he can see wings on people like Nanny and Brother Francis)

He just never mentions it, just seems to space out forever.  

He doesn’t wanna look crazy of offend anyone, so again, no mention.   Some telekinesis and fortune telling. Minor minor  on the latter

Ok, so the fortune telling thing kinda gets better (worse?)  He can see more, but it’s mainly in dreams and usually only the bad shit.  

He has a teddy named Hethpin (HETH-pin) the second. It was supposed to be hellspawn, but his toddler lisp had other ideas:

He’s not an ass, it was just pre-teen thing, and he was a little annoyed that Nanny and Br. Francis kept popping up with different names and jobs.  How hard is it for his parents to notice these are the same people that they hired years ago?

He’s distant from his parent

He changes his last name at some point to distance himself from his dad’s influence.  Somehow ends up choosing Crowley

His middle name’s Anthony.  

He can be a dork.  

He still hums Nanny’s lullaby when he’s stressed, distracted, or tired.  

He can be an ass.  A lovable one, but an ass.  

Older!Warlock gaceclaim is Jared Padaleki:

He has a snake tattoo on his left arm and a dove on his right shoulder:

gentleness action prompts edit/interpret sender/receiver roles as you see fit

breathe - muse a holds muse b closely to help them wind down after a stressful day/event

stop - muse a holds muse b back from walking back out into the fray

melt - muse a holds muse b’s face gently, drawing circles into their cheeks with their thumbs

acceptance - muse a kisses muse b’s forehead and lingers

redemption - muse a holds muse b’s face together and rests their forehead against them

home - muse a pulls muse b closer until muse b’s face rests in the crook of muse a’s neck

finale - muse a wraps themself around muse b to keep them from harm

classics - muse a tends to muse b’s wounds with more care than necessary

honesty - muse a wipes muse b’s tears away from under their eyes

recovery - muse a rubs muse b’s back repeatedly to help work tension out their body

anxiety - muse a intertwines their fingers with muse b’s to ground themself

repose - muse a languidly slips into muse b’s arms while muse b is lying somewhere

subtlety - muse a gently brushes their hand over folds and wrinkles on muse b’s clothing

intimacy - muse a braids/brushes/works knots out of muse b’s hair

domesticity - muse a rests chin on muse b’s shoulder to read/see what they’re holding

second-nature - muse a runs their hand through muse b’s hair who’s leaning into them from behind

casual - muse a slinks their arms around muse b’s to sit closer

wounded - muse a sways muse b and themself back and forth as a soothing mechanism

care-taking - muse a rubs muse b’s arms repeatedly to get some warm into them

excuses - muse a brushes their thumb lightly against muse b’s rub some dirt/dust/etc away

courting - muse a rests one hand on muse b’s back and holds out the other for muse b to hold to help them climb up/down something

simplicity - muse a playfully runs their finger along the bridge of muse b’s nose in one swift motion

Why is everyone on here shocked the new Pope is American? The last three were Polish, German, and Argentinian.

(@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.  

☆ put this star into the inbox of your favourite blogs. it's time to spread positivity!

ASDFGKL THANK YOU

He follows Lucifer inside and his eyes light up when the couch is offered.  "Couch sounds good.  I guess I should introduce myself, though.  Warlock Do-erm, Crowley...sorry, I just got my name changed."  He extends a hand around the pile of take-out in his arms, looking around the room.  

He'd been drawn to the place by what he called his problem-dreams, not a full 'vision', just flashes of objects, buildings, and his host's face.  Which meant he had to let things play out without knowing what he was getting into.

"Nice apartment...sorry you had bad houseguests,"  he says, a bit distracted by trying to remember what exactly he'd seen in his sleep.

Hello

He looked her up and down. " I'm guessing your another one? Peachy? What are you going to do now? Bring animals into my penthouse? Destroy the place? Make me sign a paper against my will? What's next? " He scoffed, sipping on his bourbon.

[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…

At the sound of Crowley’s voice, Warlock’s eyes snap open and he jumps a little in surprise. The remote drops at the break in concentration. The boy nods at Crowley’s comment. “Sorry…” is all he manages to get out.

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

Wh—?! Oh, it’s you! Hello little lad.

Learned today that aceflux us a thing???