One Would Expect The Spoiled Young Man To Be Offended, But Warlock Was Raised By An Overly Dramatic Demon

He nods. “That sounds good.” He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, trying to think of something and bitting his lip when he finally settled on a memory. He takes another breath and holds his hand out, like he’s reaching for something, and tries to pull. He still has his eyes closed, but he can feel something coming.

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

Wh—?! Oh, it’s you! Hello little lad.

the look of love (for writers)

"it's all in the eyes i was once told"

catching the stare of someone across a crowded room

subtle furrowing of eyebrows beyond a blank facade

coldness easing into warmth

a fond mothering gaze

corner of the lip nudged upward

forced glower/glare as they break underneath

batting their lashes, playful

a boisterous laugh

intrigue piercing the stoic

proud smugness at the other's success

lingering glances

a childish joy bursting through

pupils dilate

eyelids shut in a look of peace, calm and trust

look of longing/betrayal

"there was once a time when they were mine"

terseness

features fold into a scowl

an urgent flinching back

coldness returns (as though the warmth had never come)

lips part then purse

invasion of shock

slow stare at the floor

the ripple effect of a swallow

frustrated breath/sigh

bitter laugh in reminiscence

dread tearing through the seams of their composure

look of hatred

"darkness"

mean smirk- teeth bared grimace- scowl

dismissive gaze

gaze of contempt/impatience

threat lowering the voice

sardonic goading grins verging on manic

rolling one's eyes

flicker of irritation in the eyes

stares stubbornly ahead despite distraction

gritted teeth, clenched jaw

fierce biting remarks

even measured complexions betraying no thought

strangling oneself back from violence

utter apathy

murderous silence hanging in the stare

snobbish laughter

smiling at another's downfall

[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…

*He grins and shrugs*

Not really, no.

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.

The boy nods and mumbles something that sounds like “I missed you” into the wings. He hasn’t let go yet. He probably won’t for a while.

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

Wh—?! Oh, it’s you! Hello little lad.

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.

*Warlock shakes his head, his hair swishing a little as he tries to find the right words*

You basically just lost your best friend, I have every reason to be looking after you.

*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.*

Before I get ahead of myself—

The reason Crowley & Aziraphale don’t know about Warlock’s telekinesis is because pre-Apocanope it was blocked, but when Adam named dog, whatever had locked it was broken.

(@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.  

Christmas carols:

Hear me out. Adam and Warlock singing traditional Christian Carols and Aziraphale is like, “that’s cute”…

but Crowley is like “Adam, why?!? And Warlock, I raised you better than that!!!!”