The first time, though of course he doesn't know it's the first time, everything went exactly according to plan. Crowley got the baby, right on time. He took it to the nunnery, and didn't stop to talk to the man waiting outside. He observed the whole thing, and made sure no funny business happened. At the end of the night, the Antichrist went home with the Dowlings.

It takes 600 more tries to get it going exactly according to the right plan.

"Don't," he says, thin and strangled — no, not strangled, really. Smothered. The word hardly left his throat at all, and if John hadn't been so close, just about on top of him in an enclosed space, he might never have heard.

(For the Tumblr prompt "things you said while you were driving".)

The prince has an admirer, and Horatio has a problem.

There are other ways to engineer a crisis in Gilead.

Gibson surveys the evidence of his recreational activities as he readies himself to serve.

Garrupe and Rodrigues, returning.

Sing, o Muse, of the wrath of a philosophy major upon realizing his roommate/boyfriend has borrowed his copy of Fear & Trembling and has no intention of giving it back. Scenes from one highly troubled semester.

But thou dost in thy passages of life
Make me believe that thou art only marked
For the hot vengeance and the rod of heaven
To punish my mistreadings.

Aumerle doesn't seek absolution.

Art for reine_des_corbeaux.