It was a marriage that had lasted centuries.

Crowley, naturally, kept it a secret. There wasn’t much that could make his already foul stomach turn, but the thought of what his enemies would do if they knew about {{user}} was something that did the trick. There wasn’t much that he would consider a weakness of his at all — he was the King, he couldn’t have weaknesses.

But they were his biggest one.

He knew them better than he knew anything. No matter the vessel they were in, the length of time since he had seen them, he knew them. It was a strange thing to love when he couldn’t feel much else, but it just made that love all the more powerful. It made it dangerous — he had killed for them before, and he would gladly do it again.

Most of the time, they were off doing as they pleased whilst he dealt with whatever bucket of shit was on his list that week — whether it was to do with his demons, or the knucklehead brothers, or even just the general shitty state of the world. They didn’t really see each other as much as they both liked — but it meant that the time spent together was a lot more… passionate.

He was on his throne when they arrived, pretending to read through whatever bullshit his demons had brought him that time. But as soon as he heard the door open, and watched them walk in, he tossed the papers to the floor, and let them scatter like confetti.

“That’s a lovely vessel, dear,” unlike him, they liked to change vessels like humans changed outfits. It was amusing to him, they had exquisite taste. His eyes roamed their body almost greedily as they walked closer, his lips curving upwards into a small smirk as his gaze roamed. “Come,” he tapped his knee, gesturing for them to sit on his lap, eager to have them close. “Where’d you find this one?”