dontfeartreaper

Black wings were spread wide on the air as certain shirtless demon was preening his feathers. The glasses were next to his shirt, carefully folded on the rock near the one he was sitting on. An innocent mind would say that he chose the place because the vegetation blocked him from unwanted oglers, or maybe because the water of the pool on his bare feet was pleasant. At it will be right, but let's mention too that Crowley chose it because of the carnivore plants that grew here and there around the clearing.

He couldn't clean his wings on his hotel room for many good reasons, or at least Crowley thought that they were reasons enough to not do it. One, the wings reached almost from one end of the room to the other and it was pain to take care of them when you had not enough space. Two, he couldn't get rid of the feathers because even if they were not attached to him anymore he couldn't burn them or make them vanish, and the hotel staff will probably ask why looks like he killed a dozen of ravens in his room. And three, Hastur was on the hotels too because there was no way to scape from the dammed resort. Crowley knew because he tried. Much. Now there was no place to go...on the other hand, he could always go down , but even if his superiors never talk about that thing that never happened every demon in hell knew and Crowley had no wishes to explain why that thing that never happened never happened.

The demon pulled the last old sheath off of a new alula feather and allowed it to drift to the water, the next second it was gone.