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Tiny, cracky little thing of indeterminate continuity, though after Running Games. A scene that's been in my head for this verse for a while, actually. For ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
morganoconner , who's having a bad day.
Title: Bigger
Rating: PG
Fandoms: SPN, Norse myth
Verse: Weregild verse
Characters/Pairings: Crowley (SPN), Castiel, Fenrir, Bobby, hounds.
Summary: I think mine is bigger ...
Wordcount: 275
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Much, much bigger.
In front of him, the angel smiled. Smirked. Nothing big or cheesy, nothing like the person obviously responsible for this little mess would put on, but that almost made it worse. There was something about the tiny, quiet curl of that lip, the sheer astronomical smugness it brought to mind, that raised his hackles right up.
Unfortunately, there was someone behind the angel with far more impressive hackles.
His hounds were big. Biggest in the business, and he'd always been very proud of that. Not just for practical reasons, but for the implied power they gave. Crowley was the only demon in the business with the sheer cojones to master Hellhounds of that size and ferocity, and everyone, everyone knew it. You didn't mess with Crowley, or his hounds would come for you, and whatever pea-sized fluff-balls you managed to put in their way were going to be so much puppy chow. His dogs were big. The two with him today, Bliss and Anodyne, were shoulder-height to a tall man and built to match. They were big, fierce, impressive.
They were nothing close to the twelve-foot-tall, eighteen-foot-long, savage, muscled fucking godwolf the angel had decided to bring to the party. Crowley could swear the bastard was laughing at him. Not the angel. The wolf. There was more than a hint of dark humour in Fenrir's feral, intelligent eyes.
"You know," Castiel said quietly, absolutely straight-faced. "I think mine is bigger."
And Fenrir laughed.
morganoconner , who's having a bad day.Title: Bigger
Rating: PG
Fandoms: SPN, Norse myth
Verse: Weregild verse
Characters/Pairings: Crowley (SPN), Castiel, Fenrir, Bobby, hounds.
Summary: I think mine is bigger ...
Wordcount: 275
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Bigger
Crowley backed away, very, very slowly, his two Hellhounds backing with him. Behind him, he could hear Bobby snorting hysterically to himself, but right now the demon had bigger problems than his client/friend/potential-significant-other laughing at him.Much, much bigger.
In front of him, the angel smiled. Smirked. Nothing big or cheesy, nothing like the person obviously responsible for this little mess would put on, but that almost made it worse. There was something about the tiny, quiet curl of that lip, the sheer astronomical smugness it brought to mind, that raised his hackles right up.
Unfortunately, there was someone behind the angel with far more impressive hackles.
His hounds were big. Biggest in the business, and he'd always been very proud of that. Not just for practical reasons, but for the implied power they gave. Crowley was the only demon in the business with the sheer cojones to master Hellhounds of that size and ferocity, and everyone, everyone knew it. You didn't mess with Crowley, or his hounds would come for you, and whatever pea-sized fluff-balls you managed to put in their way were going to be so much puppy chow. His dogs were big. The two with him today, Bliss and Anodyne, were shoulder-height to a tall man and built to match. They were big, fierce, impressive.
They were nothing close to the twelve-foot-tall, eighteen-foot-long, savage, muscled fucking godwolf the angel had decided to bring to the party. Crowley could swear the bastard was laughing at him. Not the angel. The wolf. There was more than a hint of dark humour in Fenrir's feral, intelligent eyes.
"You know," Castiel said quietly, absolutely straight-faced. "I think mine is bigger."
And Fenrir laughed.
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