Tumgik
#i should be working on the biblical au and i am but it's going slowly
crown-ov-horns · 5 months
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A Warrior Nun a/o/b AU could be interesting if Adriel was the omega and Ava was the alpha, and they bonded. The drama.
Mostly based on my own interpretations of the AU.
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jo-harrington · 1 year
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Hell - Vampire!Eddie Munson
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Summary: Vecna, weak and wounded after the events of March 27th 1986, seeks to enact revenge on those who foiled his plans. And his key to such revenge? A boy left behind, barely clinging to life.
Warnings/Themes: Angst, Violence, Kas!Eddie/Vamp!Eddie, Vecna Lives, Body Horror, Blood, Physical and Psychological Torture, Manipulation, Brainwashing, Necromancy, Loss of Soul, Transformation, Major Character Death and Rebirth, Other Biblical and Literary References
Note: So…welcome to my take on Vampire/Kas!Eddie. This fic, entitled Hell, can be read as a stand-alone, but is essentially going to be one of three companion prequels to a Vamp!Eddie AU fic I have in the works. I want to finish FF and get a few more chapters of Store Manager Verse published before I really start working on this idea…but with tomorrow being the “anniversary” of Eddie Munson’s “death” in the Upside Down, it only seems poetic to explore this first.
That being said, this fic and the subsequent fics/chapters in the series will not be for the faint of heart. Please check the above warnings and ask yourself if you are in the correct headspace to proceed. I am happy to answer any questions via PM or Ask.
You can find the As Above, So Below masterlist here.
Please do not interact if you are not 18+.
Enjoy!
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"And I looked, and beheld a pale horse: and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him."
—Revelation 6:8
In the beginning, there was pain.
Enough pain that it should have been The End.
Eddie believed the pain meant The End.
But he had never been so lucky to experience the end of any suffering before, so he should have known better.
He couldn't recall the moment Dustin's hands were wrenched away from his body, leaving him floating in the darkness. Or the way his body felt before the teeth ripped into him. Or the act of kindness that led him to this horrible punishment.
The road to Hell was paved with good intentions. It vaguely echoed in the back of his mind, taunting him.
And in some way, Eddie Munson always knew he was going to Hell.
Just not like this.
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First it seized his body and paralyzed him, as acrid tendrils poisoned his veins and his heart and his mind; he briefly recalled reading about Komodo Dragons in 5th grade. The way they ripped into their prey and let the venom work slowly and painfully to overtake them before the feast could begin.
He would not be a feast for the creatures of this realm but for their Master. Repentance for their failed tasks. They would not feed again until he did, wouldn't taste power until his was regained.
And feed is exactly what Vecna did.
The tendrils carded through Eddie's memories and poisoned them: his hopes and fears, everything and everyone he loved and held dear. His joy and indifference and hatred.
They decimated everything good; ripped them up from the roots and salted the ground below them, only leaving unrecognizable scraps behind. Then they latched onto the bad with no intention of ever letting go. Suckled on his sorrow and his hatred gluttonously.
Vecna especially liked to graze on the pain though; those morsels were most succulent and came in abundance. It was never enough, though; in the howling silence, even more pain was willed into existence.
You are alone. They are at fault. They tricked you. Sacrificed you.
Eddie never had a reason to let the pain weigh on his heart before, but his tormentor would see that rectified. He would break him down...
They left you behind. Left you to this fate. Left you to me. To do with you what I please.
...Until he no longer felt anymore.
And do to you I shall...
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After eternity had passed, Eddie's body was unceremoniously dragged across the barren, uneven earth of the Upside Down. He watched the chilling, sizzling, flashing of the unfamiliar sky as he was transported for miles and miles, ad infinitum.
Until a threshold was crossed, and he entered the next circle of unending torture.
His carcass was rent into unnatural shapes, bones cracked, the marrow scraped out. Skin was flayed, flesh split open, until his barely-beating heart was on display and blood splashed weakly onto the over-saturated ground.
His eyes though...remained.
For some reason, Vecna wanted him to see.
The eyes are the windows to the soul, after all.
So he let Eddie stare at the rest of his collection—an unfinished one, but an impressive one nonetheless. He let Eddie stare at the looming pillars; at the empty sockets and gaping maws. At twisted husks that would never truly be filled again.
Because he wanted Eddie to choose to lose his soul. Wanted him to sell it. To trade it for salvation, lest he end up like the others.
It was almost disappointing at how short a time it took...
It was only a day—a day of staring at Chrissy and Fred and Patrick—before he wailed so wildly and begged so loudly that his jaw unhinged and every part of him truly became broken.
And at that moment, everything Eddie Munson was or had been or could ever hope to be no longer belonged to him. He was ripped apart both literally and figuratively. Whatever damage the bats had instinct to cause, it was but a mere drop in the sea of carnage that their Master endeavored to create.
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He could sense the creatures around him, sense their anticipation to frenzy. Whether that was to fight or to feed, only time would tell.
They had worked tirelessly to stitch him back together. Followed their Master's instructions. Some were sacrificed to the cause: their bodies freely given, because their minds would remain.
Part of the greater whole.
He would never be considered whole anymore, but he was possible more than whole; the extra pieces sustained what would have perished due to the crucial part of him that was missing.
"Rise," a groaning, creaking voice sounded and all went silent. As all the creatures of the Upside Down witnessed the completion of a wicked metamorphosis.
The product of their collective toil began to writhe and twitch as it was reborn.
Resurrected.
"Rise," Henry repeated, "and become what you were always meant to be."
And in a realm full of monsters, the thing that rose was truly monstrous.
Leathery wings. Rows of teeth, too many to fit so they left his jaw unnaturally wide. Talons that could rip. Eyes that could cut through any sort of darkness.
He wouldn't bow. His Master remade him so he would never bow. But he still knew his place.
This gift he was given could easily be taken away. He wouldn't squander it.
He made a vow. A promise.
He would serve.
But he made a promise before, he recalled.
A promise not to be a hero.
And as a consequence of breaking that promise, he could never be one again.
Eddie always knew he was going to Hell.
He simply never thought he would become the Prince of it.
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“You are privy to a great Becoming and you recognize nothing. You are an ant in the after-birth. It is in your nature to do one thing correctly: before Me you rightly tremble. Fear is not what you owe Me[.] You owe Me awe.”
—Thomas Harris, Red Dragon (1980)
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gam3rsuar5sr3x · 25 days
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problems with sending bible verses and the judgement of teachers and the church and undertale
@metakazkz was one guy i shared it to. hes the one who made the abysstale and moonside comics, of course ill admit i admired him too much to the point of putting his au in my take on dustfell (witch i think i,m at a possablility to quit because i saw a video on judgement day that scared me ill explain later) but to all my christian friends. my pastor did pray for me sence i had wierd ocd like thoughts like "i,m this person" or that person and it was usally about fictional characters like some of them were from undertale stuff and from roblox piggy like the abysstale frisk and sans and alphys (and i didnt want them cause i thought it was making me out to claim it and i refused cause my identity is in christ not in fictional characters) and plus evolution isnt biblical, and he told me that the lord told him that i was listening and watching some dark things that open up the door to demons and i had to cut off certian things and i first thought it was undertale but i kept listening to it until i saw a youtube short on a rebellious girl going to hell, and it scared me cause it had a scene from a movie of her out of body expierence and it was her in an ambulance and then shes in hell screaming (not burning but probably going to somewhere where she would burn) and laying down and it shows us shes screaming as she slowly gose into an area in her torment area and it scared the MESS out of me for some reason cause all i saw was her going somewhere and her screaming, i dont know what part of it scared me but i dont wanna see it ever again cause of how scary it was. but in the end i cut off undertale music and the entire genre of undertale and aus as a whole out of fear of going to hell, then i began repenting everyday just to make myself "clean" incase id die one of my nights on earth cause our lives could end in a flash and tomorrow isnt garunteed then i made it to sunday by the grace of god, and in the end i go from cutting it off without any problem of doing so to being greived by the fact i might have to cut it off and never enjoy undertale and its genre ever again, and not just undertale and aus but also piggy and the reading moonside comic with metakaz. but then that fear where i have to get clean from sin before dying went away and everytime i,m outside my room out my house i,m always thinking id wanna go enjoy undertale and aus and piggy and moonside comic (witch is fnaf fan so thats why i also wouldnt wanna read it) but whenever i go back into my room or am in my room i would have that tired feeling and irretated a bit like i shouldnt do it, so i told this to my mom and she asked if this was some religous spirit on me. to me it probably could have been cause i think "i gotta get clean or i,m going to hell" whenever i repent and in doing so i think i made the mistake of trusting in my works to get right with god, and she told me that it wasnt like i was trying to rebel against god whenever i listen to that stuff unless gods trying to call me away from it to show me something about or saying "hey come here". so i went along with the same thing she said and said it to myself as well. but of course she said that was as long as i put jesus first and by first we mean our priority cause the lord should be priority, as a result i still enjoyed it (probably too much) but i had a tendancy cut off undertale and piggy and moonside comic ect from time to time as well as waiting for a week or longer until i can finally go back to it (though i did during those weeks think of undertale and all that stuff). then i saw videos on judgement day and it really scared me cause the main character who got judged had sin of divorce and adultry but what had me back in the fear is that he justified his sin. it scared me cause i,m looking back at what i said saying "its not like i,m trying to rebel against god when i enjoy it its only when it becomes an idol" and i probably think i did go that far and shoudlnt have, it scared me and now i feel like by saying all that i think and feel as if i was trying justifying it as sin and got exposed. ima reblog
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noctumbra · 3 years
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𝒇𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒐𝒖𝒕
summary ─ you were a trouble. you were a walking sin. that was okay, though. james knew how to deal with problems like yourself.
pairing ─ dark!serialkiller!bucky barnes x reader
warnings ─ DARK FIC, smut, +18, slight dub con, explicit murder scene, major character death, rough sex, mean!bucky, degradition, name calling, alcohol consumption, pussy slapping, shitty smut lol, bucky is stuck up on morality (?) aka he doesn't like when women show some skin off because he thinks it's wrong, mentions of rape (didn't happen), biblical references??
a/n ─ hellooo! this is one of those rare times where i write dark fic lmao, this is my entry for @bitchassbucky 's 2K writing challenge. my prompt is "if you're reading this, i'm dead." with criminals au. i really hope you like it. please leave a comment if you do, thank you so much! <333
explicit murder scene starts after the * mark.
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You were too close.
The guy’s hands were way too close you. His eyes were roaming all over your body like a hungry panther; he was waiting for the right moment to attack and feed on you, and the worst thing was you were letting him look.
It was not okay in James’ book. You shouldn’t have been doing that, shouldn’t have flaunted your body the way you did: A dress that was too short and showed your legs more than it should and its cleavage was too deep, even from his seat, which was at the far end of the bar, he could almost see your nipples, and then you had these high heels. They were thin heels, very high, that made your feet look elegant but at the same time sinful. They were putting the attention to your legs.
James tilted his head just a little bit to his side as he watched you.
You were laughing freely, loudly, and throwing your head back. You were revealing your neck like that, this time drawing the attention to your almost bare chest. Sometimes you touched the person who made you laugh; a gentle caress on their arm, or a light grab on their shoulder… You didn’t know what kind of effect you had on them; the men shivered every time you touched their arms or shoulders. They were getting hungrier, James could tell. Their eyes were roaming all over your body even more, they were black, almost, and they kept licking their lips as if to stop themselves from drooling.
He shook his head in disappointment. Some men were really weak, he thought as he watched one of the guys adjusting their pants because they became tight with the sight of you.
You were a trouble.
You were a walking sin.
That was okay, though. James knew how to deal with problems like yourself.
──
James approached you slowly. He did not want to frighten you or give you the wrong vibe. He handled with the other guys at the bathroom when they visited it to empty their bladders. He could talk to you without being interrupted, now. Although he probably had twenty or so minutes before the guys were discovered by some other patrons in the bar, so he had to charm you in a short amount of time and had to convince you to join him for the night.
He was in a cleansing mood.
So, he ordered a soda. He didn’t drink on nights when he was working, and he had plans for you and preferred to stay fully sober. The bartender put the drink in front of him silently and went back to drying the glasses. James took a sip, watching you with the corner of his eyes.
“Lovely dress,” he murmured gently, his eyes on the bartender. “You look like summer in the middle of a stormy night.” He turned his head to you; his blue eyes were intense as they took your shocked but pleased face in. You ducked your head.
“Thank you,” you whispered, but he heard you anyway. He was surprised that you were playing the innocent card. You were far from being innocent, he could tell. He only needed to take one look, and he knew right away. Maybe that was how your way. Maybe that was how you lured your preys in. James smiled despite his chain of thoughts.
“You’re very welcome,” he nodded, and then turned his body to you. “I’m James,” he extended his hand. He didn’t mind you knowing his name; you were going to be cleaned at the end of the night anyway. You smiled.
“Y/N,” you said, gently shaking his hand. James almost hummed loudly at the touch of your soft skin against his. His hands were rough, their texture wasn’t soft anymore, but yours were. They were soft. He liked that. It was nice to feel soft things against his own skin every once in a while. “You look tired,” you murmured after two beats of silence. James barely kept his smile soft and contained the twitch of his lips which threatened to form his smile into a smirk.
You were desperate.
The only thing he needed to do was to show you some affection, pour out some sweet words and now, you were desperate to talk to him more.
“I am,” James responded with a neutral voice, but he was mindful to add some sort of a sigh at the end. “Not so much, but I am.” He sent you an equally tired smile that matched up with his story. You gave him a soft look before inching your chair towards his. You were unaware of stepping into a very feral wolf’s den.
──
It wasn’t a hard work for him, to keep you talking and drinking while he was charming and maybe seducing you all along.
You were a little tipsy as he walked up to you anyway, James just made sure that you kept drinking. You were doing every single thing that was wrong in his book; the cleansing he’d be doing tonight with your help was going to be a good one.
“What brought you here?” You asked him. You weren’t slurring yet, and honestly, James didn’t want you that drunk, so after you were finished with the glass you had, he was going to stop you. As much as he liked seeing you indulge yourself into the sins like this, because it was going to make his cleansing better, he wanted you to enjoy yourself on your last moments.
James shrugged. “Just passing by, to be honest,” he murmured. It wasn’t a lie. He was passing by. He would be leaving this small town in the morning, most likely 6AM sharp. “How about you, sweetheart?” He asked. His head cocked to his side, eyes teasingly narrowed and lips stretched into a dangerous smirk. He was a handsome man, James knew that, and he liked to use it to his own advantage in these kinds of things.
“I’m going home,” you said. “It’s a long way, though, so I’m just spending the night here.” You sent him a small smile and finished the last drop of your drink. Just when you lifted your hand to ask for more, James placed his hand over the glass.
“I think it’s enough for the night, don’t you think?” He murmured, and then he stood up and moved closer to you. “Besides it would ruin the fun if you were to get too intoxicated.” James saw your eyes getting heavier with a hazy look, saw your chest stop moving and heard the hitch in your breath.
“What fun?” You asked. James let his lips form into a smirk, this time.
“If you join me for the night, I think you can find out,” he whispered, leaning in just a little. You whimpered softly. You were turned on; you were desperate for him, for what he could give you, what he could make you feel. It should have felt empowering, but it didn’t. It made him feel disgusted.
“Alright,” you agreed easily.
Wrong. This was wrong, what you were doing. Wrong. You shouldn’t have agreed to spend a night with a stranger this easily. You shouldn’t have been let that stranger seduce you like this, but you were naïve. You were desperate.
So, James smirked. He held out his arm and walked out of the bar with your arm looped into his.
──
James wasn’t a big fan of having sex. He knew he could go without having it, and he had, once. It wasn’t hard, abstaining himself from sex or any sort of psychical contact with anyone. It was very easy, actually, but it wasn’t worth it. He’d stop by one of the towns he was passing by, have a wild night and relieve himself and then he’d move on.
He called them cleansing.
He’d find a woman, watch them and try to decide if they were worthy of his cleansing nights. If they were, James would take them back to his motel room. He’d have his sex, give them pleasure, make them take whatever he gave them, and when he was free of his sins, he’d get rid of them.
Tonight was his cleansing day, and you were his vessel.
“Fuck!” You moaned as James slammed you back against his motel room door. His mouth was assaulting your neck, your bare chest, all the skin you showed to those men and made them lose their control, James left his mark.
His hands were under your dress. They were running along your soft skin, along length of your legs, and he grabbed your ass beneath the skirt to haul you up. With a soft moan you held tightly onto him, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, you let him carry you to the bed. His lips were stroking yours so perfectly, you couldn’t keep your moans to yourself.
“You like this, don’t you?” He murmured against your lips as he laid you on the bed. He was on fours between your legs, your dress skirt bunched and ankles looped behind his thick thighs. “You like having some touching you like this.” He trailed a finger gentle from your ankle to your hips, digging his nails lightly. You sighed.
“Yes,” you moaned. “Yes, I love it.” James hummed. His fingers grabbed a hold of your flimsy panties, ripping them off with a flick of his fingers. You gasped, but it was so hot to watch, you couldn’t say anything. James discarded the ripped material. He hummed once again as he swiped his fingers through your core, causing you to buck your hips towards his touch.
“So wet…” He whispered. “You’re turned on, hm?” You nodded, desperately biting your lip to contain the sounds you wanted to let out. James pulled on your dress. “Take this off,” he ordered, a dangerous growl in his voice. You shuddered and scrambled to obey him. Quickly sliding the straps of the dress, you slid out of it in a blink. You threw the dress on one of the chairs in the room and settled under him again with a sigh.
James was right about almost being able to see your nipples because you weren’t wearing anything to cover them underneath that dress. He growled. You were so careless with your body, he realized. You never thought about what might happen to it before you threw it towards someone that could charm you with handful of words.
James wanted to laugh: You were so fucking easy.
Licking his lips, he ran his hands all over the now-available naked skin. It was very soft to touch, warm and smooth. It felt nice under his fingertips. James wanted to dig his nails and draw some blood just to ruin the perfect smoothness of your skin. He wanted to mark it, wanted to destroy its beauty so that no one would want to touch it ever again.
“Mm,” he heard you hum. Ignoring your writhing, James continued to stroke the warm skin beneath him. James sighed. “James…” You breathed, eyes closed and mouth open.
“What is it?” James asked. “What do you want, sweetheart?” You wiggled and writhed under him again. He could see that you were shying away from him for some reason, and he was intended to find out why. “Mm? Tell me. What is it?” You bit your lip, watched his eyes darken with the smallest action.
“I, um,” you whispered. “Can you be rough with me?” You asked gently. James narrowed his eyes. They were filled with amusement.
“You wan’ me to rough you up, love? Hm?” He leaned in and grabbed your face in his palm, squeezing your jaw, he pulled it towards his. He nudged your nose with his own softly. “You wan’ my bruises all over your body? Wan’ me to mark you up?” You were nodding excitedly; head bobbing up and down, eyes glimmering with anticipation, James thought you were adorable. He chuckled darkly. “Use your words,” he commanded with a low, rough voice.
“Yes,” you moaned loudly and whimpered. “Yes, I want your marks!” James hummed. It was a content, happy sound.
“Good, baby,” he whispered and flipped your over in a blink. He pulled your hips up as he placed a hand on your face and buried it into the bedding, almost constricting your breathing. You groaned throatily. “This what you wanted, yeah?” He leaned in until his lips were next to your ear. “You gonna get it.”
Briefly pulling away, James took off his clothes and laid them on the chair all folded. He climbed up on the bed, took his position between your thighs and pressed his groin against yours. Your dripping core felt warm and slick against his hard on. He closed his eyes and grunted lightly at the feeling, hips moving slightly. You wiggled your hips, pressed your ass back at him and coated his erection with your slick. James groaned. His hands were quick to find your hips and grabbing them tightly.
“You do not move unless I tell you so,” he snarled. His hand released your ass cheek and slapped it harshly, making the flesh jiggle. “You are to follow my orders,” he snarled again as he slapped the other cheek. You whimpered. “You disobey, and I’ll make sure you’re in pain.” He quickly gave you a slap right on your clit, making you shout into the bedding. “You hear?” You nodded.
“Yes, yes, I hear,” you whined. “’m sorry. I’ll follow your orders, sorry,” you mumbled, tears gathering in your eyes. James smiled.
“Good girl,” he whispered. The hand that was still resting on your ass sneaked its way up into your hair, and he yanked it harshly. You cried out. Your hands grabbed his thick thighs as something to hold on when he pulled your body flushed against his. “The sounds you make,” he snarled. He released his hold on your hair. “Grab the condom. It’s in the drawer.” James pointed the one on your left, and you leaned to get it.
After he put on the condom, he cornered and caged you on the bed, under him. You were breathing heavily, he could see how wet you were and how warm your body had become. “I’m gonna be rough,” he warned you. “I’m gonna degrade you, slap you, pull your fucking hair and I will not stop, y’hear me?” You nodded. That was exactly what you wanted from him. “Yell as loud as you want. Let’em know I’m making you feel so good.” He kissed you on the lips once and slid inside of you in one thrust.
You groaned loudly as your eyes rolled back. They way he filled you was so fucking perfect, you felt yourself tear up. Your hands were holding onto his biceps, nails digging softly as James started thrusting without missing a beat.
The pace he set up was hard and almost punishing. All the rage and tension in his body was loaded into his thrusts, making your body jolt up and down every single time his hips kissed yours. The sound of skin-slapping-skin was almost too loud, but James closed his eyes as he listened to it. His hands were grabbing your thighs tight enough to leave bruises in its wake, nails digging hard enough to draw some blood. James growled.
“So good,” he murmured to himself as he once again flipped you onto your stomach. He watched the jiggle of your ass with his each thrust, watched how perfect it was and warm it made him feel. It sent tingles all over his body. Pulling at your hips, he positioned you half-sitting on his lap, half-lying onto your stomach. He was hitting and reaching deeper with each movement of his cock, he knew it. Your screams of pleasure were letting him know. “Hmm, damn…” He groped your breasts. Pinching the soft, loose flesh, he pulled at your nipples.
“James!” You moaned, but you were slurring. James grinned devilishly. He sneaked his hand from your breast to your pussy and slapped it. Your hips twitched, and he slapped it again. Your walls were rippling around him like mad, James was loving it. “Oh, fuck!” You cried out as he pinched your clit. Tears were freely rolling down on your cheeks, but they were pleasant ones.
“Yeah?” James hissed. “You feelin’ good, slut? Hm? Tell me.” He listened to your litany of ‘yeses’ and moans and whimpers. He dug his nails on your breasts, digging them deep and dragging them down roughly. You shouted. James could feel the trickle of blood on his fingertips, and he chuckled darkly.
“We are just starting, dove,” he whispered into your ear and wrapped his arm around your throat.
****
James watched you as you dozed on and off. You were sprawled onto the bed, starfishing, and had a dopey smile on your face. You were so beautifully blessed out, James felt proud. His eyes roamed all the marks and bruises he left on your gorgeous body: Bite marks, handprints, nails… They looked incredible.
“Damn,” he heard you whisper. You giggled. You sounded drunk, but it wasn’t because of the booze you consumed earlier, it was all sex. “This was the best fuck I’ve ever had,” you said, grinning. James just hummed. Lifting himself on his strong legs, he walked over to his small bag. He opened it.
His clip point bowie knife was winking at him cheekily in his bag, and James smiled. He grabbed it gently. Fingertips running over the sharp and smooth edge of it, James sighed. This knife had served him so well over the years, it became his lucky charm and his go-to. Tonight, it was going to serve him once more.
“Are you still there?” You murmured, head lifting tiredly. “Or have I been talkin’ to myself all alon’?” You chuckled.
“’m here,” James whispered. You hummed, head falling onto the pillow. He walked over to your tired and used body. Your eyes were closed, but you had a happy smile on your face. James stroked your cheek as he mounted you.
“Mmm,” you protested lightly. “You wore me out. Can’t go again.”
“I don’t want you to,” James whispered, licking his lips hungrily. His pupils dilated with the anticipation. His hand moved to your hair from your cheek and he stroked it, too. You purred. James grinned. He looked like a mad man with a grin like that, he was aware, but this was his favorite moment.
He fisted his hand into your hair, yanking you half-upright. Without letting you understand what was happening, he ran the knife along your throat. A clean, deep cut. He heard your gurgled breath, watched the blood pouring out.
James smiled at your half shocked and half blessed face as he watched the blood pouring out of your body and pet your hair all the while. He could feel the relief filling his body already. He sighed deeply, relishing the feeling.
He loved his cleansing nights.
He loved watching them fading out.
It was why he was created.
──
Another body was found exactly a month later after the last one.
Despite the undisturbed look in general, he could see couple bruises peeking under the clothing that wrapped her body innocently. Rogers knew what he was going to find when he dug a little deeper. He knew how all the bruises the killer left behind was going to look like. He also knew that the forensics was going to say she was most likely got raped, but it wasn’t true.
Rogers had been working on this killer’s case for some time, now. He had seen cases of his killings enough to know that he cared about consent. The bruises, damage on genital parts on the bodies were all asked for. Rogers felt like he knew the killer like a best friend with how much personality to put into his… craft.
He would watch them first, seized his options. That was how he’d choose his next victim, most of the time. Then, he’d approach them, make small talk maybe, and charm them right away. It was a funny and humiliating fact that they had no visuals about the killer; no one seemed to saw his face, or remembered it. Rogers figured he must at least have a decent enough face to charm the women the way he did. Then, he’d take them to one of the rooms in the motel nearby. He’d get his pleasure, satisfy himself, and then. Then, he’d get to work.
This one, the body in front of him, was definitely his work.
The scene Rogers was facing was weirdly peaceful. It was by a lake with lots of willow trees surrounding it. It was almost 5AM in the morning; the cool breeze of the night was even sharper now. There was no noise, only owls making soft cooing sounds. The darkness of the sky was the darkest before the sun peeked through its black curtains.
However, Rogers was not there for the scenery. Not that kind, at least.
She was standing by one of the willow trees. Her body was positioned in such way that it looked like she was just leaning against the tree and watching the view in front of her. It might have looked normal, like nothing was wrong if she was wearing a coat or something, but she wasn’t. The white dress she had on was beautiful. It was simple, no designs or anything. The dress had long sleeves; the fabric was covering her chest up to her neck/shoulder joint and the skirt part of it was reaching to her ankles. She had matching flats on her feet. The skirt was only allowing Rogers to have very small peek of her skin.
Her hair looked clean when he came closer. It was up in a half-braid, thrown over her right shoulder. Her hands were clasped in front of her in a submissive way, her fingers were laced together. She had an also white, silk scarf covering her neck. Simple silver earrings were put, she looked really beautiful.
Her face, however, was the creepiest part.
It looked almost alive; she had a serene look on her face, a faint smile on her lips and the look in her eyes were soft. She really looked like she was watching the view, but she was dead. Her skin looked undisturbed, but Rogers knew that if he were to rip the dress off, he’d find her genital organs all mangled. He would also find all the bruises that this elegant dress was perfectly covering up.
“Same guy?” Wilson asked as he approached Rogers. He nodded. His blue eyes were inspecting the girl’s body carefully. “These poor girls,” Wilson sighed. “What is he trying to do, I don’t get it.”
Rogers knew what he was trying to do.
“He’s stopping them from sinning ever again,” he murmured as he eyed the note where the killer pinned the note. It was sitting right over her heart innocently, an elegant hand writing was smiling at him gently on the cream-colored paper. One sentence was striking, but he could see more things were written on the small paper. It was that one sentence that was haunting him in his nightmares. Rogers counted exactly seven drops of blood on the paper. One of the drops was darker than the other: It was the third one.
“Does that mean anything?” Wilson frowned. He was new to this case, so he didn’t know the meanings of the small details the killer loved to leave behind.
“Yeah. Seven drops. Seven deadly sins. Third drop is darker than the others which indicate which sin she had died from.”
“Which is?”
As he answered Wilson, Rogers sighed deeply.
“Lust.”
𝙸𝙵 𝚈𝙾𝚄'𝚁𝙴 𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂, 𝙸'𝙼 𝙳𝙴𝙰𝙳...
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lala-pipo · 3 years
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(1) WOW! 4 months has passed since you answered my last ask hahaha… so fast… I understand, sometimes when I spend too much time on something, be it working or studying or even recreational stuff I feel burnt out to :D Like I spent 5 straight days last week playing Stardew Valley, now I haven’t touched the Switch lol anyways, I am still enjoying the updates on Dorm Life! It’s slowly progressing but I think it’s good for both of them so far? Taking it one step at a time :3
(2) It’s like they are back at it again with their bantering and anime/fanfic conversations :’) the comfortableness is there but also at the same time it feels unsettling? maybe because we are seeing it from Taem’s POV and he is kinda fidgety (for a lack of better word) or tense about the situation? Hmmm but yeah the ending at the latest chapter though!! Whoooo could have been calling Jong at that time? And the off-character part where he turned off his phone, refusing to take the calls :O
(3) Obviously like Taem we would probably just wonder if it’s Key right, but idk why some instinct telling me it’s not Key like it’s a new part of the story? A new subplot? Lol or maybe it is Key and we are closing that chapter? Uhuhuh I’m just going to theorize in the corner here as I wait for the next update :3 Ah! Yeah, and you said there won’t be any crying moments anymore, so will there be more cheesy things like the end of the latest chapter? Cringe inducing lines and “aww” moments? ;)
(4) Yeah, ofc ofc since to Taem, Key is his “antagonist”, we were bound to kind of see it the same way… in the latest update too, there were a lot of thoughts inside Taem’s head regarding his observations on Key right… like I think there was a part where he thought that Key was looking down on him, or even he thought that Key and Jong should be having stricter? (Idk if that’s the right word) boundaries on things that they should and shouldn’t talk about lol
(5) To be honest, it’s kind of entertaining to see Taem’s train of thoughts on these things like, that almost instantaneous thought in someone’s head that they don’t really share to others. It can be a little bit biased, it can be overdramatic, but ofc I also I understand Taem’s hatred? Or more like insecurity maybe? When it comes to Key (and Jong). It’s the kind of things people think about but not really say out loud hahaha I love it, it makes the characters more whole?
(6) Oh yeahh? I shall be sneaking my way into AO3 to see your replies :3 For a while I kind of realized that you uploaded every 3 weeks? On my Sunday nights, so I timed it perfectly lol recently I’ve been busy too so this one took a while hehehe :D Since my last ask I think you updated twice with chapter 10 and 11! I think chapter 10 was more like “where is this going, what is happening” uncertain section with everyone just passing by time and going with the flow? Ft. mother and Kai hahah
(7) In chapter 11, I think the direction is clearer for them, thanks to the convo by the river!! It was a necessary conversation and I’m glad that they were able to talk about it, after great difficulty :’) Then the chapter was filled with fluff cheese fluff Taem’s thoughts on Key fluff :3 hahaha oh! Maybe I wasn’t paying attention as much but there weren’t many biblical allusions in the past 2 chapters? Maybe it was intentional or maybe not, either way I didn’t notice many of them I think? haha
(8) Maybe ‘cos Taem’s thoughts are filled with “where is this going”, Jong, Key, and then the upcoming exam lol so not so much bible references going on in his head haha… Also!! I saw new fanfics for Jong’s month and I did not read them yet!! So excited, probably will read them as I wait for the updates :D Also!! SHINee x AoT fanfic, yes please omg… I actually searched for one back in 2013-2014? When AoT Anime was just released… we have Pacific Rim AU, so I was rooting hard for AoT AU :’(
(9) Sooo yeah, I’ll look forward to any new fanfics by you in the future too! But please do take time away from it if it tires you out or if you are burned out! It should be an enjoyable thing to do for you :D Anyways! Thank you for the updates! I thoroughly enjoyed the fluff, oh! and thank you for accepting my tomo-choco lol, and I gratefully accept yours! <3 I hope you had and will have an amazing time for the upcoming months! Take care, and stay healthy! – cricket anon
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Cricket nony!
Wow indeed! It certainly has been a while. How have you been? I have never heard of Stardew Valley before, but I’m glad you’ve enjoyed playing it. But I know that feeling, sometimes I play games for weeks and then I won’t touch them for a year. Humans are weird like that I guess. ^^
I’m glad you’re still enjoying my slow updates. I mean we are about to cross the finishing line. There are only two chapters left to complete the storyline + the epilogue. So yeah. Considering that I already wanted to be done with the story by March – and now we’re nearing July already. Haha – but at least I’m working on it to push this story over the finishing line.
It’s not really a subplot – more like the underlying theme of the story which has been there since chapter 1. If the story was written from Jonghyun POVs it would have been a main theme, but since we’re seeing everything from Taem’s perspective, we just know what Jonghyun shares with him – which is not a lot. :’)
Yes, there won’t be any more tears. There will be a few cheesy moments, but less so compared to chapter 11. :’D Chapter 12 is like the last peak before – hopefully – all ties come together in chapter 13 *knocks on wood*
Oh, Taemin will have a lot more thoughts on Kibum in chapter 12. Lmao The whole situation between Kibum and Taemin is loosely based on something from my own experiences. However, without going too much into detail – let’s keep it simple and say I was the Jonghyun in that scenario. Lmao
Yeah, I think there are plenty of moments in this story in which Taemin thinks a LOT of things but says something very different out loud. I think that’s only human. It’s just better to not share all thoughts one has. :’)
It’s certainly intentional that there are less biblical references after they’ve actually been to church. There are still some left to come, but far less than in previous chapters. It’s supposed to show that Taemin is slowly beginning to find his balance in a way, his way in life? I don’t know how to put it, but he slowly gets more rooted.
THANK YOU! Finally someone who understand my craving for SHINee x AoT fanfic. I really, really want to write one because for some reason I want to write something more action driven with blood, and gore and violence lmao and of course titans. I mean romance is cute – but romance is even cuter if you put it into a dystopian setting where people are fighting for the survival of human kind. A SHINee survey squad would be so cute T_T <3 I don’t really know why no one picked up on yet after all those years – we have so many crossovers in this fandom – and yet a crossover with one of the biggest fandoms out there is just nonexistent. It makes no sense to me. I also always wanted to write a Harry Potter crossover but there are so many out there already – so AoT really lets my weeb juices tingle. Lmao
I remember really liking bmot’s JongTae pacific rim AU…although I still have no idea about pacific rim to this day. :’D I always wanted to look it up because I like the description in their story – it seemed an interesting concept but somehow I’ve never went further than thinking about it.
Thanks for dropping by again, cricket nony! Talk to you in 4 months? Maybe…lmao Take good care of yourself. *waves* <3
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kittensjonsa · 4 years
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Trophy Wife
Another day, another detective-lawyer tag team duo Jonsa AU nobody asked for lol. Has this been done before? No idea but for some reason, this was dying to get out of my system, so I just had to -so please bear with it. Or not, up to you (trigger warning below). 
Summary: Sansa needs help in bringing down one of the worst criminals of the century - and save her abducted best friend. Jon, a shy elusive private investigator offers a helping hand. Sparks fly when things heat up, while going undercover. *winks*
Rated NC-17 to E for language and content. Major trigger warning for abuse (various). I am neither a lawyer nor a PI so forgive me if I get some of the terms wrong. Part One of (maybe, let’s see) Three. Enjoy! x
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Part One
Eviction. Jon hated that word. He hated hearing it, hated being threatened by it and now there it was, written all over his door on a notice in red capital letters. Fuck you too, he thought as he tore off the paper. I'll say when I'll go. This was not a time for moving houses or looking for a new place. He was busy, there were things to do and places to hide in. If only they could spare him a couple more months, that was all he needed, if the rent he owed was correct in his head. Jon had lived in his car once and he couldn't live through that again.
Besides, he was on a roll. At least, he'd like to think so. Clients were coming in and he had more jobs that he did a year ago. Of course, that was largely due to his success in uncovering the biggest scandal in all of Westeros - involving the Lannisters and a certain pair of twins who had relations with one another, in a biblical sense, or so it seemed. It did not help one bit when the Lannisters were also the family everyone loved to hate, and Jon probably did the country a huge favour when the news went public. Within days, it was reported that any Lannisters who planned to run for government office were rejected, shunned and ridiculed. So much so, that they went into hiding. Good riddance.
You reap what you sow. They had it coming, Jon told himself. And truthfully, he relished every second of it, bringing down the notorious family - such a satisfying accomplishment it was. It was just ironic that a member of the Lannister family had hired him, turning the evidence into a weapon and declaring war against the Lannister legacy. So much for a happy family.
The pay check from the Lannister job was substantial enough and managed to pay his debts that he owed but when it came to maintaining the business, the cash quickly ran out. Furthermore, it did not help that his clients would only pay once they had received proof that their suspicions were right all along, which took some time. Jon hadn't even counted his gas money and meals during stake outs or the electricity bills that soared after spending late nights playing and watching video tapes over and over. Surveillance was a costly, slow and painstaking process but essential, in getting the dough and the job done.
Maybe I'm too nice. Jon wished he had stipulated a clause in his contract that required a deposit before he accepted any assignments. But frail crying wives desperate to get out of loveless marriages were not people he wanted to take advantage of and a lawyer, he was not. If he had a therapist licence, perhaps it would be more useful in bringing in the bucks. Still, through word of mouth, steadily the business grew - apparently, spying on people was a lucrative outfit. Jon couldn't recall earning this much when he worked at his former security firm at Castle Black.
“So, you'll do it?” the gentleman asked, sliding an envelope towards him. Jon opened it and took a peek, in it had a flash drive and a rolled up wad of cash, which looked like a few thousands.
“I would. But you must know that I work best alone,” Jon agreed.
“Oh no. Not for this one. It will be difficult to crack this one without a partner.”
Smart ass. Trying to tell me how to do my job. The cash looks good though. It'll help tide over a couple of things.
“All right. So I need a partner. You have to give me some time to look for one. And that's going to cost you, you know that right?”
The gentleman smiled and drummed his fingers on the dining table. “Oh, I know that. But what if I already have a partner for you? She's ready to work on this with you.”
“She? Whoa.. back up for a second. I didn't say I needed female partner. Besides, this isn't a job for a lady, if what you told me is true.”
“Trust me, she's on board with this a hundred percent. I trust her to do the job, above and beyond.”
Jon was still reluctant. The quick and easy cash advance had come with its own conditions. “Okay. Does she have a name? I'd have to do background checks, you know and all of that, for safety reasons.”
“Of course. All you need on her is on the flash drive in there,” he pointed to the envelope Jon was resting his hands on. “Besides, she's my niece.”
“Your what? And you're okay with her getting involved?”
He nodded and turned his attention back to his newly refilled coffee. Jon couldn't believe his ears. What kind of uncle are you?
“She feels as strongly about this than just about anyone. Maybe more. And she volunteered. I suppose she has her reasons. How can I say no that?”
“Yeah... but we're investigating an alleged sex ring. Are we not? Seems a little inappropriate, don't you think?” Jon whispered as he leaned in, wondering what kind of shenanigans people are up to these days.
Jon watched as he put down his mug and adjusted the glasses that sat low on the bridge of his nose. He didn't strike Jon as a sleazeball, the kind who would sell and pimp anything or anyone to make a buck. He was mysterious yet friendly, sophisticated yet ruggedly worn, as if he had seen enough ills in his lifetime.
“A human trafficking ring, to be exact. We've been trying to go after them for years but they get away with it every time. You know why? Because all evidence pointing to them were ruled inadmissible. Come on, you've read about it in the papers, on the news. Day in, day out we built the case and every time we find something worthwhile, another detail or another statement comes up and render the leads useless.”
It was true. It was all over the media - the Boltons and the Freys accused of allegedly running an illegal sex trade. But to Jon, it seemed that there was all there was to it. People wanting to have a bit of fun at a party isn’t that new or illegal, he thought, even though he depised the Boltons and the Freys as much as the next decent guy on the street. Unless of course, if the ring was made up of abducted girls or worse, minors. That would truly be despicable and one that warranted medieval torture and capital punishment. This is going to be quite the undertaking, Jon suddenly realised.
“Have you considered going to the police... or your client going to the police for help? Instead of a private investigator.”
Jon waited for an answer as both their eyes met, one was smiling and the other was not.
“You don't think the police isn't involved in this? Not investigating, no that. We have reason to believe that members of the police are themselves the perpetrators. I'm talking high ranking officials, son. So, you see why we have to.. approach this in another way.”
“Okay, I see your point. All right then. I'll need to meet this niece of yours, so I can clue her in on how to go about this. Though, I'm not sure how it'll work.”
“I am sure you'll try your best. Believe me, Jon, if we win this case, it'll be the biggest one yet. It's something greater than all of us. It's for the greater good. I can't quite discuss names or details than what I've just told you or who my client is but the money? There's more where that came from. Here's my card, should you need anything.”
Jon looked at the name card. “ Well, you sold me there. We'll be in touch, Mr Stark.”
“Likewise, Jon. Oh, and call me Ben. I hope to hear from you soon.”
Jon watched as Benjen Stark left the diner and into his Mercedes, as he contemplated his next step. This was a big job, and Benjen was right, he probably could not handle it alone. Still, Jon was curious and intrigued, wondering whom his partner was.
Jon jolted up from his bed when the doorbell rang. It was only eight in the morning and Jon did not recall ordering anything that required an early morning delivery. Ugh, what..
Jon stumbled out of bed, clad only in yesterday's jeans and stepping on notes scattered everywhere in his room. His living room wasn't spared either, with boxes of carefully labelled tapes stacked haphazardly in every corner.
“Jon Snow? Hi, I'm Sansa Stark. My uncle.. he spoke with you yesterday..”
Jon rubbed his eyes and squinted at the blurry figure in front of him. His eyes were stubbornly still asleep. Slowly but gradually, in the few minutes that it took for Jon to recover from his sleep-ridden stupor, his vision came round and found himself gazing at a tall redhead standing before him. Whoa.. okay.
“Bad time? I can come back later,” she said, sheepish at the sight of a sleepy half naked man yawning at her.
“No.. wait. You're the niece? Of Benjen?” Jon said, as memories from last night's meeting came to mind.
Sansa nodded. “The very one. He says I'll be working with you. On the case?”
It was way too early to be discussing details about work or anything, really and Jon needed a cup of good strong black coffee to stay awake. Shouldn't have read the file at three in the morning.
“Right. Come on in.” Jon opened the door wider as he led her into the living room. Sansa accepted the invite, albeit with caution as she stepped in, carefully steering clear of the boxes and files around her. 
“Pardon the mess, I don't get visitors much. Coffee?” Jon apologized as he helped himself to a cup of chilled coffee from the fridge. It was a norm now, keeping coffee from the night before, to save money. It didn't taste as good as freshly brewed coffee but it woke him nonetheless.
“Uhh.. no thanks. Water's fine.”
Jon watched the lady seated on his couch waiting politely for him to finish. He had gone through the file on her as Benjen had given. Graduated with honours at the top of her class at University of Westeros' Law School. Interned for two years at one of the top firms right after graduation and now a junior partner at Stark, Tully & Reed. Perhaps one of the most fascinating fact was that Sansa Stark had been on the prosecuting team in the 'Lannister vs the people' case. It was no wonder the Starks had come looking for him. He guessed he probably didn't need any further introductions, for now.
“So, how about we start about why you're here, Miss Stark,” Jon said, handing her a glass of tap water.
Sansa thanked him as she took the glass from his hand and set it down on an empty spot on the cluttered coffee table.
“Sansa, please. First of all, I apologize for not letting you know that I was coming. I did call and text yesterday but I suppose you were asleep. It was late anyway. Sorry about that.”
Jon then remembered his phone, which was now likely dead since he forgot to charge it. Oops.
“Oh, did you? Lately been trying to kind of de-plug every once in a while. But yeah, I might have fallen asleep too. Had some notes to go through and kind of forgot about my phone. My bad.”
Sansa smiled and took a small sip of water. “Oh.. that's all right. Anyway, let's start over. I'm Sansa Stark and I'll be working with you. I believe my uncle has filled you in? Pleased to meet you, Mr Jon Snow.” Sansa offered her hand.
Jon returned the handshake with a wary smile. “Pleasure's all mine. And please, Sansa, call me Jon. So, I'm guessing you know what we're working with?”
“I do. I was the one who put it together so I should know more about it than anyone.”
Benjen said he couldn't share details about who the client was and now Jon was curious. Sansa Stark seemed a force to be reckoned with - coming up and putting together a case of this magnitude could either be the ruin or the highlight of her law career.
“I see. Well, I must say I'm impressed. But you do know this can be dangerous work, right? If what your uncle says is true.”
“If it means saving hundreds from a cruel fate then I'm all for it. Besides-”
A loud rumbling growl startled Sansa to a pause mid sentence.
Jon's cheeks reddened, patting his stomach. “Umm..Do you think we could talk about this over breakfast? I.. I had a light dinner yesterday.”
Sansa bit down her lip as tried to stifle her giggle. This man is hilarious. Cute though. She didn't mind at all working alongside him. “Sure. I'm buying.”
Awesome. I don't mind it at all. Nothing more Jon loved than rich people willing to spend. But a cheap greasy diner breakfast with all the works was just what he needed right now. He can think of other fancy things later.
“I hope you don't mind. Not many fancy places around here,” Jon pointed to a booth in the diner, right in a corner where he usually sat every day and night. Grenn, the owner and chef who was also a friend and neighbour, made sure it was always empty and reserved just for him.
Sansa beamed at him, her striking blue eyes sparkling in the morning sun. “Are you kidding me? Diners are the best. The only places that helped through mid terms and finals. And man, they were gruelling. I would retreat to a diner and have a chocolate banana milkshake whenever things got a little tough. This.. is nice.”
Jon felt at ease immediately. Something told him he was going to have a great time working the case.
“So, tell me. Why 'Trophy Wife'? I mean, can't you call it what it is?” Jon asked, in between mouthfuls of bacon and French toast.
“Well, it's a code word you know. Human trafficking, sex ring.. these are terms people are not comfortable hearing, especially in public or in an office. Besides, not many people know about it and it is absolutely crucial that it stays that way. Too much information shared with anyone else won’t be good for us. Plus, I think it's also because.. it seems the victims are forced and paraded as wives of these predators. You know, so it seems legit. But that’s just a guess. I know deep down, there's nothing legitimate about it.” 
“Good point.” Jon concurred, shoving the last piece of French toast into his mouth. 
“You want to hear a story? We actually managed to get hold of a marriage certificate, you know, one that shared a victim's name on it. But get this - it was fake. There was no such church nor was there any minister with that name. It was a bust.”
“Yikes. Okay, so that should be proof enough right? I mean, right there is already fraud.”
Sansa sighed. “Yeah, up until someone accused us of fabricating the marriage certificate. I mean, we couldn't use it at all since it was fake. It definitely derailed the investigation for a while and it was the only promising lead we had. I believe there are still many. Out there. We just have to make sure the case won't go cold.”
Jon had to ask, seeing how fired up Sansa seemed about the whole thing. “Can I ask you something? If you don't mind my asking. Why this? I mean there are so many easier cases out there waiting.. but why this one?”
Sansa looked at him and looked away, turning towards the window.
“Jeyne Poole was twenty five years old when she went missing last year. Next month would be her seventh month missing. Her parents are worried sick and her mom had a stroke because of it. Jeyne was last seen at her place of work and that was it. She just disappeared and dropped from the face of the earth. That's not Jeyne to pull something like that.”
“What do you mean?”
Jon's furrowed brows prompted her further. “She's my age and my best friend, Jon. And no matter what, I have to search for her. Whether she's dead or alive.”
Jon was no stranger to hearing heavily personal details and he thought he could handle all the doom and gloom thrown his way, but this had him a little shaken up.
If he wasn't convinced before, he was sure as hell now. It was a dark treacherous path ahead but Sansa was a woman on a mission. And Jon knew well already, not to get in her way.
“Right. So, what do you need from me?”
It was a quiet walk back to his apartment as the brevity of the situation started to sink in. He may be a mediocre private investigator but a mediocre human being, he was not planning to be. Armed with new information and Sansa's fervour rubbing off on him, Jon was determined to find and annihilate the fuckers, if they really were the Boltons and the Freys, even better. Two less scumbags in the world would be a huge win; they won’t be missed. Sansa and him would be saving, hopefully, not just Jeyne Poole but dozens of vulnerable young women from the very clutches of evil itself.
“I can share the workload with you, if you want. You know, go over the details, help out on surveillance, research all that stuff,” Sansa suggested, as she flipped through the pages of the folder Jon had compiled. It had only a couple of handwritten notes with addresses and names along with documents he printed from the flash drive he was given. He was keen to find some kind of link and honestly, two brains were definitely better than one for it.
“Don't you have a job to attend to? I mean, I don't mind the help but I don't think it's fair that I take you away from what pays your bills. If... you do that sort of thing.”
Sansa shrugged. “One of the perks of living with your parents, I guess, is not paying bills and still having a roof over your head. I've got some money saved and since this is my case, I managed to get an expense budget for it. So, that's covered I guess.”
Jon scoffed. Rich people. “And this expense budget... is from your client?”
“I am not at liberty to say but up to you what to believe. All I know is, what we need for this case, is settled and paid for. Nothing is spared.”
Must be nice being rich.
“Well, you don't say, this client could give us a temporary office to work in, no? I mean, I don't mind doing it out if my house but-”
“You're being evicted in less than two weeks. I know. I had some checks done on you, Jon. Safety reasons, I'm sure you know. But granted, it's not ideal, But I think we may have just the place.. I mean, for the time being. Though.. it's going to take some work and I'll brief you on that soon.” Sansa offered as Jon unlocked his apartment door.
“Okay..that’s a first for me. I mean, if it’s no imposition, I-”
“Yeah, it’s totally fine. But hey love to chat but I kinda have to go. Can I take this with me? I'll make you a copy,” Sansa grabbed the folder and walked up to the door, casually glazing over the bit where he was about to be homeless soon. Damn lawyers.
“I was going to pay, you know. It's just that I had to settle other bills first,” Jon explained, though it was futile knowing who he was talking to.
“That's all right. Doesn't make you a bad person. You had priorities, it's understandable. Although if you’re planning on living in your car, I don't think all the boxes in your living room would fit.”
It didn't faze Jon how she had known about him living in his car once upon a hard time and he couldn't agree more. He couldn't exactly afford a storage unit either since the material he had was sensitive and would spell trouble if anything got lost or stolen.
“So, I'll show you the new place? You can come pick up your stuff later this weekend if you want.”
Jon found himself with renewed enthusiasm, relieved that he said yes to the assignment. Whatever tomorrow brings, he'll face it head on, with a swanky new roof over his head. 
Bring it on.
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prettywordsyouleft · 6 years
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King of Demons
Summary: he had sent you away as promised, but the longer you were away from the Devil, the more you craved to be back in his company. You were willing to risk it all.
Characters: Im Jaebum x reader / with a lot of Markson and a tiny bit of Bam.
Genre: supernatural au / fluff / comedy
A/N; Welcome to week two of Frightful October - Demonology! So I wrote this short fiction for the drabble game a couple of weeks ago over Jaebum being Satan. I highly recommend you read Havoc before reading this. It wouldn’t leave my mind, so I decided to do a follow up piece from Y/N’s POV this time. I expected this to be darker, but I added in Markson, so you know, it got a little humorous with their antics. And a couple of inside Ahgase jokes later and we have a fiction that’s open ended enough that if in the future I wanted to return to this, I can. I really hope you enjoy this; I had a lot of fun writing it.
Word count: 4558
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He had kept his promise, setting you free and back into the world of humans. And in a daze, you spent the next week just going through the motions.
Had it been a dream? You had no physical evidence either way.
You were certain he had dragged you to the depths of Hell with him, and you had spent a night there in the very least. It was definitely morning when you roused from your slumber in your own bed, feeling far too exhausted for one night of absence. Did time in Hell go faster or slower than on Earth?
Although you had been ready to leave, after all you had done nothing to warrant ending up in Satan’s lair, when he had finally walked you to a rustic looking elevator, you had been hesitant to climb inside. Not because a small part of you wondered if it was safe enough to travel within, but since the Devil himself had told you his real name, you had a desire to know more about this man. It was reckless, yet as you stared into his onyx eyes, you craved more than just his name.
Jaebum.
In your second week, clarity started to return, and questions were building. You had frantically begun to search for information, using his name to find out further truths. If you could just uncover at least one clue, maybe then it would seem less of a dream world that you had conjured. However nothing seemed to match and it was maddening.
It frustrated you that there was no record on Earth about the Satan you had met.
Of course there were the biblical stories, or the anecdotes of others claiming to have met the Devil, but nothing matched. He was a fearful man who commanded a race of demons, and placed in charged of the cruellest entities in existence. There was not one account of him showing human characteristics. But you had seen them with your own eyes. Jaebum had watched you, keeping his distance for quite some time. His eyes followed your every move, and you had felt vulnerable under their gaze until you decided to stare back. And what you found was something softer and sobering. The fear that held you captive dissipated the longer you searched his face, noticing how gentle his features were. He had lost his control over you the moment he let your hand reach for his face.
Delirium finally hit. You had decided you had lost your mind, considering you couldn’t find anything to confirm your experience. And for the next month whenever your mind would slip to that night, at how he held you close as he walked you through Hell, his eyes glaring at anyone who so much as turned to see you both, or of the desperation in his eyes as he shut the door to the elevator and sent you away from him, you would laugh a little too easily, and shake the images away. It was detrimental to your psyche to allow yourself to fantasise of the Devil, of his handsome face and strong arms. You would simply push it all away until it faded from your memory.
Except it never did.
You struggled when the dreams began; meeting the man you so desperately sought after in a world that you knew didn’t exist. It was much too bright, not a sinister corner in sight. But his eyes were as they had always been, staring deeply into yours as he tried to uncover every thought you had. And so you began to tell him. After awhile you felt as if you had told your entire life story to Jaebum whilst you slept. He knew of the time when you fell from a tree and scarred your knee, or when you had graduated high school at the top of your class. You admitted to not understanding others around you enough to make solid connections passed friendship, and your parents were the most magical beings in your life. You whispered out your dreams, wanting to be more than just an office worker, to help change people for the better. Of meeting someone just like him, with a beautiful face and unyielding eyes that followed you wherever you went.
But even in the dreams you learned nothing more of Jaebum. All the same, you felt yourself falling deeper into his eyes, into his face, and into desperation.
You needed to see him again, dreamland or not.
And that had led you to where you stood now. It was dark and thundering outside; perhaps the skies were as foreboding as your mind was. Another crackle of the angry clouds boomed into the soundtrack of your evening, as you slowly and precisely drew out what you needed. It had been a last attempt to look into the dark spells of the internet, chastising yourself for becoming this pathetic. But you couldn’t not try either. You needed to find a way to get back to Jaebum, or out of this hellish nightmare that had become your daily existence.
Summoning a demon did seem like the worst thing you could do, but it was an extremity that you were prepared for.
You followed the ceremony through word for word and every required action, and then sat and waited. Nothing happened. You hadn’t been foolish to believe this would be like Disney, where a cloud of smoke would rise up and bam, there would be a demon inside. But you had hoped for some kind of indication that the sinister magic you had just played into would work. After an hour of sitting there, you scowled at the items laid in front of you and snuffed out the candle.
It all happened too fast really.
One minute you were on your knees in front of your summoning, and the next you felt like you were flying.
Or falling. You were definitely falling.
But you weren’t alone, and you gasped when you saw his crimson eyes, watching you as you fell. His lips were smirking, yet his stare was confused. It was disorientating to see two very different emotions in one face, and the longer you stared back at him, the more you wondered if all demons were this attractive. You clearly had a taste that was unfathomable these days.
And then he disappeared, your head moving rapidly to find him. Right as you landed with a thud. You heard the sharp exhale underneath you as you blinked a couple of times, and glanced down to see arms around your waist. Just who was this guy?
“Up,” he managed, and you scrambled out of his arms as he sat up and began to cough. He was slight in build which made you cringe, checking him over for any injuries from your fall. When his red eyes connected with yours again, you frowned as he chuckled. “I’m a demon, don’t look so worried.”
“Ah.” Nodding, you looked around yourself, trying to decipher if this was another dreamland or not.
“Welcome to Sheol,” he said a moment later, gesturing to what simply appeared to be a land full of fog and cracked ground underneath your feet. There was nothing distinctive about it at all, and you wondered if it was just an abyss that looked entirely the same. But the demon beside you seemed all too at ease as he walked along comfortably. He glanced down at you and smirked. “You know this is a first for me.”
“What?”
“Leading someone so innocent into the depths of Hell. You sure are something.”
You blushed, not quite understanding your situation, but you were relieved when he mentioned Hell. At least you were heading in the right direction.
“You know, summoning a demon isn’t the smartest thing you could do. Thank goodness it didn’t work how you planned,” he continued and you snapped your focus back to his face, the demon smiling at you with a gentleness that only continued to make you question all that humans knew of this land. It didn’t cross your mind for a second that you had been bewitched by this entity at all. “You don’t really think that chanting some foolish words with a few candles and a bit of drawing would bring a demon to your door step, right?”
“Well, how am I here then?”
He grinned. “I was assigned by my leader to watch over you.”
“Leader?” you repeated and he nodded once. “Jaebum?”
The eyes of the demon grew round and he all but jumped on you, his hand flying to cover your mouth instantly. You were surprised and stumbled back into him, feeling his chest rise and fall rapidly. His grip over your mouth eased a little as he leant down to your ear. “This place isn’t one we utter such niceties in. Unless you want to attract other demons here, I think we should just stick to Leader, okay?”
You nodded and he let you go, his eyes still roaming around to ensure you hadn’t attracted unwanted attention yet. Staring up at him, you sighed. “So how long does it take to get to erm, your Leader?”
“It depends, sometimes only an hour, sometimes a day. This world is always shifting. Time is rather irrelevant down here.”
So you had been right upon your arrival back home, you had spent far longer than a day in Hell. It made you feel accomplished to have one of your questions answered. Glancing up at the demon that walked beside you, you wondered how much more he would share with you.
“Don’t get carried away, I’m not entitled to tell you too much more.”
“You read minds?” you pondered and he laughed.
“I’m a demon. I do a lot of things.”
“Like?”
He hummed in thought, turning to you a moment later. “I know that if it weren’t for me in the last six months, you would have ended up here a lot sooner.”
“But this is where I wanted to come!”
“Alive or dead?” he asked and you halted, realising what he had insinuated. You glanced down at yourself then and he smiled again. “You’re alive, for now. Which is why we shouldn’t linger in these parts too long, we might come into contact with something undesirable.”
“What do we have here?” another voice crooned and the demon beside you groaned.
“Like Jackson.”
Jackson, the demon he referred to, chuckled to himself as he eyed you in a way that made you feel downright on display. You shifted behind the arm of your demon, glaring at Jackson in hopes he’d stop with his insulting gaze. He merely laughed loudly.
“Jesus Christ, Jackson, would you stop?”
“Now now Mark, just because you’re the fallen angel turned demon type, doesn’t mean you’re any better than me.”
“Oh, I hadn’t thought to ask your name,” you murmured and Mark glanced at you momentarily, nodding once before rolling his eyes at the broad entity who had interrupted your travels.
If this wasn’t such a sinister world, you would have laughed at it feeling all a little like you were on a trip to the Wizard of Oz, meeting new and different kinds of souls along the way. It seemed amusing that you could think of such a thing in this place. Perhaps all signs of your sanity had left you now.
“This is Jackson, a commander of Purgatory. Who should be watching over souls and ensuring they get to their rightful destination.”
Jackson smirked, eyeing you again. “And this soul here? Where is she off to? You should have done something better to disguise her, Mark. Flanked with a mere demon that serves our Lord, it’s hardly going to keep her alive if Yugyeom sniffs her out.”
“Yugyeom has been slumbering for fifty years, and she’s already been here once by our Leader’s choosing,” Mark reiterated, Jackson tilting his head in thought.
“Is she…?”
“Perhaps.”
You glanced at the two talking of words that made little sense and then sighed. You didn’t have time to stand here discussing the happenings of Hell. Jaebum surely had to be waiting by now. You stepped off, hoping that the internal compass inside you would direct you to the right destination, and began walking with haste. You heard running behind you and then a hand on your arm, dragging you back. Glancing up at Mark’s dark expression you attempted your best not to cower. “I want to go. Now.”
“This isn’t the right way,” he whispered, dragging you backwards.
You groaned, nothing had any distinct markings to you.
“Patience. Aren’t humans supposed to have this quality?”
“And down here aren’t demons supposed to be impatient and cunning?”
Mark nodded, looking a little exhausted. “Princess, I’ve been so patient with you, that my impatience is close to returning.”
“Will it? Then can you hurry me to Jae-your leader.”
He chuckled and you noticed Jackson was back. The broader of the two grinned. “What was he thinking, she’s far too naïve for this world.”
“And far too frustrated by your riddles. What are you talking about?!” you finally demanded and the pair glanced at each other before it all turned black. You screamed, though a hand muffled most of it, and you heard fingers click beside you, a small flame ignited that now lit up the darkness.
“Princess. I think we should name her that,” Jackson said all too casually as you blinked, Mark’s hand lowering from your mouth. You grumbled and he laughed.
“Will you answer me?” you asked after what felt like several minutes of walking in silence through the barely illuminated dark. “Shouldn’t you be able to travel in the blink of an eye down here?”
“What do they teach you up there? That Hell is a five star resort?” Jackson retorted and Mark couldn’t help but chuckle. “This is a land of damnation, Princess. We’re not given luxuries, and not even the Devil himself is spoiled by the ability to do much more than lord over the cursed.”
“You paint it like it’s the worst place in existence,” Mark chided and Jackson shrugged. “We’ve adapted, and you will too.”
“If she manages to stay. I can only imagine what up there will be thinking if they catch wind of this. I can hear that snitch Jinyoung already. Send her home!” Jackson pointed up and then shook his head, clicking his tongue in disapproval. “Mad, he’s gone mad.”
“Up there? Jinyoung? Mad?” you repeated, letting out a heavy breath. 
Demons sure were infuriating.
Sensing your mood, Jackson finally began talking as you continued through this new plain of Sheol. He explained the factions of Hell - Purgatory, Silence, and Torment. He told you of how each stage had its place in housing creatures that humans barely knew to exist. He mentioned that Hell had been giving a shunt from up above to carry further souls than it could handle, and that their Leader was struggling to maintain control. And that’s why he had slipped up with you.
The knowledge was painful. The way Jackson had stared at you made you feel like a criminal, someone who didn’t belong and had made things harder for all those down here. You hadn’t thought much about the realm of Hell, just who governed it. As someone who wanted to help others, you felt deflated and greedy for only having one person in your sights.
This was all starting to become too much for you and you ached for the simplicity of Jaebum’s room, away from all this and into his eyes. At least those felt more calming than any of this did.
But were they? You were now concerned for Jaebum. Was he really struggling? The Devil was meant to be someone with immense power and control. Couldn’t he just show some of that to those acting out? It made little sense to you and you hoped clarity would arrive soon.
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The darkness eased off after some time and you were greeted by the sounds of water running. When it came into sight though, it was anything but and you noticed the river to be made of lava and not something cool and refreshing. You hadn’t realised you were thirsty until then. There was a rickety bridge that looked all too unsafe to cross, but with the help of Mark’s hand and encouraging words from Jackson, you made it to the other side, thankful to see ragged cliffs and peaks that were often depicted in books that you read. As you passed through a large archway you started to feel more eyes on you. There were hundreds, all turning from within the shadows to stare at the three of you, some curious, some menacing. You clung to Mark’s side for a bit, his smile comforting you somewhat. And then you saw it, the elevator you had ridden that night. Rushing ahead and crossing a stone bridge, you ignored the cries behind you, sliding to a stop when someone stepped out in front of you.
“Who is this delicious entity?” he spoke, smiling a toothy grin of daggers. You swallowed roughly; he seemed the epitome of danger.
Until he laughed. It was loud and piercing, much too juvenile to be truly frightening, though his smirk and smouldering eyes seemed out of place. It seemed like demons where full of misconstruing appearances to you.
“Bam, you already know who she is,” Mark said exasperatedly as he reached your side and gave you a reproachful stare. “And you know that if you so much as lay a finger on her, he’ll cut you into shreds.”
“It’s tempting.”
“It took you two hundred years to get back to this shape after your last mishap,” Jackson reminded and Bam growled in frustration.
“Always the gatekeeper, never the fun. Why doesn’t anyone ever stop to have a glass of wine with me, huh?”
“I will,” Jackson agreed, eying you both and nodding to the elevator as he slung an arm around Bam. “Do you have any meat? It’s been awhile since I’ve been treated to a meal.”
“After smiting you for eating with me last time, are you sure you want to go against Jinyoung’s judgement?” Bam asked with a laugh and Jackson’s shoulders bounced as he joined in the pleasant sound.
“That bastard’s done well to secure himself up there away from Hell, cunning demon that he is. I’m waiting for the day they realise he’s nothing but a fake.”
There was a loud crack of thunder suddenly and Jackson screamed.
“Always testing his luck,” Mark muttered as he took you over to the elevator and opened the door. He helped you inside and looked at the panel before pressing a number. “You might want to hold on.”
“Why, last time it was--”
You couldn’t finish your sentence as it suddenly took off, and you fell to the floor with a thud, your eyes wide as you tried to make sense of this death trap. Mark leaned against the wall with his arms folded across his chest, seemingly unaffected except for the tightness in his jaw. You attempted to get to your feet but it was far too dizzying and so you remained on the floor until the elevator stopped with a ding.
The doors opened and you weren’t possibly as ready as you thought you would be. The ride up had completely disorientated you, and you had almost forgotten why you had joined Mark and Jackson in this journey across Hell to get to here.
But his eyes found yours immediately, their deep onyx showing flames of anticipation. His hand was soon held out and you reached over to grab it, allowing Jaebum to pull you to your feet.
He existed. He was real. And he was holding you.
“Well, my job here is done, right?” Mark’s voice cut through the reunion and he smirked, not even affected by the glare Jaebum was giving him. “I hope to see you around, Princess.”
The elevator departed, and you watched it leave before you turned back to the gaze that hadn’t left you once. “Princess?”
“It’s been a long trip,” you admitted, waving off the nickname with a smile. Jaebum’s eyes widened at your gesture, his features softening and having a boyish charm to them. You watched as his eyes crinkled up in enjoyment from your smile before he realised where he was and all the eyes that could be watching him, the Devil himself, itching to smile at you.
“Come,” he instructed, leading you down a path and into your favourite place. The lair hadn’t changed much. The fire still roared in the fireplace with such energy that you knew it couldn’t be without magic. His armchair was still positioned in front of it, though there was a second one beside it now, and you eyed it happily. You knew it was for you.
Jaebum seemed apprehensive, watching you roam around his special place, your eyes not meeting his once. You could feel him boring a hole into the side of your face, but you perused his belongings a little more, wanting to relish in this moment. Finally you turned to him and he allowed himself to smile.
To say the Devil was beautiful in that moment was an understatement. You were overwhelmed with his big grin, enveloped in a rush of feelings that led you right back into his arms. You couldn’t tell if the smile fell from his lips at your forwardness then but he didn’t hesitate to hold you gently to himself either.
“I missed you,” you told him and he sighed deeply. “I didn’t know if you were real or not.”
“You did know, I visited you as much as I could,” he replied earnestly and you glanced up with confusion. His eyes were warmer than they had ever been. “Your dreams. I’m bound to this realm for all of eternity except for one night every two years. But I have other ways of reaching people if I need to.”
“So all that time…” He nodded. “I wasn’t crazy after all.”
Jaebum laughed and you smiled at the sound. He shook his head at you. “Oh, you are more than just crazy. You’re impetuous, and not at all what I expected when I brought you here the first time. God only knows if I hadn’t of sent Mark to you what could have happened.”
“So maybe I was a little crazy,” you retorted and Jaebum gave you a look. You blushed. “Okay, completely insane. Because of you.”
Jaebum sighed shakily then, admonishing you with his gaze. “What have you done to me?”
“It can’t be any worse than me, a mere mortal walking into Hell for you.”
“And when will you leave?” he asked, sizing up your lips, moistening his own as he continued to focus there. “Will you leave me again?”
“Do I have to?” you breathed and his lips were on yours, passionate, unbridled, and demanding. It felt fitting given how gentle he had been with you up until now. It wasn’t long until he showed you into another room that you hadn’t seen last time, blindly falling onto the large bed within it.
You had been completely seduced by the Devil as long as the night wore on. Which, given your information about this realm, could have been days long. You were exhausted and fell into an equally long slumber, full of travelling around Hell at Jaebum’s side, helping ease his burdens with ideas that he hadn’t yet thought of, and using kindness to dispel the frustrations of the many souls. You continued until they called you Queen, which was fitting since he was the King of Demons, and your King.
Your Jaebum.
As you opened your eyes, you groaned heavily to find yourself back in your bedroom. It wasn’t as warm as Jaebum’s lair, and you shivered immediately.
A sense of déjà vu succumbed the room as you darted around, trying to decipher something, anything to guide you away from the stress that was building. It was then when your eyes found it, the mark upon your wrist. It was small, but it hadn’t been there before. You fingered the little cross; smiling to yourself at how ironic his mark had been on you. There was a knock at your bedroom door and you glanced at it, lifting your blankets up as it soon opened.
Mark grinned. “Now, I know I’m not the Devil himself, but I’m sure you’re glad to know it’s not a dream much more quickly, huh?”
“Are you going to tell me what happened?”
“Something to do with up above. You were being too good for Hell.” He sighed dramatically as he handed you a cup of coffee and then watched you apprehensively. “I don’t really know what I’m doing in a kitchen.”
You spluttered at how sweet the drink was, and then laughed happily, taking another sip all the same. It was just like Mark to be this way. “How do we get back?”
“Well, there are a few options,” Mark said, coming to sit down on the end of your bed. He then let out another sigh, following it up with a pout. “But he said that whatever it was that we did this time, your heart still had to be beating in your chest. I don’t know about you, but this whole keeping a fragile human alive is exhausting. Jaebum needs to find a better kink than a beating heart.”
You hissed at his approach and Mark laughed.
“Should we try up above then?” you questioned, and Mark raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you know someone up there?”
“A couple actually. Jinyoung’s not half as bad as Jackson makes him out to be. And there’s a guy who is literally like sunshine too.”
“Sunshine, you know someone that pure?”
Mark snorted. “He’s like sunshine. But he’s far more wicked than all of us combined. Youngjae would be a good asset to have on our side when trying to win over the Gods to allow you back to Hell.”
“Well then, how do we get to Youngjae?” you asked as you threw back your blankets.
“Won’t you miss all this, Princess? Your family?” Mark stared at you for a moment and you ceased your movements, thinking to your parents that had raised you so well. But this world didn’t need your help. Not like Hell did.
Smiling softly, you looked at your new friend, the only one you still allowed to call you Princess, and Mark was unable to hide his own lips curling up to mirror your action. “I can visit them, right?”
“I mean, a living person down with Lucifer himself couldn’t maintain that position for very long, so I guess you could say it would be easy to just tell them you’re moving away for work.”
“Come on then,” you said brightly, gesturing for him to leave so you could get dressed. Mark smirked but stepped over the threshold after eying your bare legs from the edge of your tee appreciatively. “Once I’m ready, we’ll go try those up above. He’s waiting for our return.”
You knew you would do all it would take to get back to Jaebum, taking on Gods and all.
________________
Welcome to Frightful October, a collab between myself and @this-song-thats-only-for-you … this week’s theme is Demonology! To follow more of the stories check out the links below:
Other stories in Demonology: King of Demons // Risky Visions // Contract // Drastic Measures
King of Demons series: Havoc // King of Demons // Unfathomable // Sacrifice // King of Demons: The Return // In The Night // Identity // Prophecy // Someone // The Devil Contained // The Monsters Witch
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Sanders Sides College AU
I’m trying out my hand at a Sanders Sides College AU because I’m having a bit of a writers block with my homeless!Virgil fic (I will try to work on it soon though, please bear with me). This is loosely based on my own experience in college, years ago. I might continue this? Not sure...
Characters: Platonic Moxiety, but Roman and Logan are in it too. (Well, Logan is just talked about)
Warnings: Mention of anxiety attacks
Patton had mixed feelings about college. Overall, he enjoyed it. Meeting new people, being on his own, it was exciting. But to say that he was thriving was a complete lie. He was struggling....a lot. He had never been an A+ student - that role was taken by his twin brother, Logan, who attended a university only a couple of miles away from Patton’s - but he had done decently in high school. Decently enough to get accepted into a private Catholic college with a good reputation such as this one. When asked about the academics, his tour guide had diplomatically admitted that it was definitely rigorous and challenging (”But Patton, it’s college; it’s supposed to be more challenging than high school. You have nothing to worry about. I’m sure you’ll do fine”, his mother had reassured him).
But man, was he in over his head. He was particularly struggling in two classes: one was a prerequisite for his declared major, Psychology, and the other was one of the Theology courses required for all students in order to graduate from the school. And his low grades were not due to his lack of trying. Quite the opposite, in fact. Patton worked very hard, but he just wasn’t earning the grades to show it. 
“Hi, Virge,” Patton sighed as he set his dining hall tray down next to his friend’s at lunchtime. 
Virgil looked up from his sandwich bread that he was spreading mustard onto, and his eyes widened with concern. “Pat, what’s wrong?”
“My grades. College is so much harder than I thought it’d be.” Patton stabbed his fork into a piece of chicken but made no move to pick it up, suddenly losing his appetite. “Are you struggling just as much as I am?”
“Uh...I think....I think I’m doing okay, grades-wise,” Virgil said slowly. He didn’t want to make his friend feel bad. “I mean, it’s really tough though. Especially the class participation. I hate how Humanities requires class participation, as a third of your grade. I’d much rather listen. I get so panicky when it’s my turn to talk. The only good thing about that is you get the moron jocks who don’t come in to class prepared and say the stupidest stuff just to get their participation points. That’s always pretty funny. But yeah, college is no joke.”
“I know. I work really hard and I’m consistently getting bad grades on my tests and papers. It doesn’t help that I had lunch with Logan yesterday and he hardly let me get a word in edgewise, he was going on and on about how great college is and all the stuff he gets to learn and how amazing his professors are and how much he loves it.” Patton groaned and leaned his elbow onto the table, putting his forehead in his hand. “Maybe I should transfer to an easier school.”
Virgil suddenly coughed, choking on his sandwich. Patton gasped and leapt up out of his chair to pound on his back. After taking a few gulps of water, Virgil cleared his throat and wiped his streaming eyes. “Don’t transfer! You can’t leave me! You’re pretty much my only friend here!”
“What about Thomas? You’re pretty friendly with him, right?” Patton said, referring to Virgil’s roommate. 
Virgil shrugged. “Yeah, he’s cool. But we hardly see each other except for bedtime. He’s involved in practically every club this school offers.”
“You should join some clubs too,” Patton suggested. Virgil just rolled his eyes, not bothering to explain why he couldn’t do that. Patton knew first hand how bad Virgil’s anxiety could get. “I would join clubs if I could juggle both that and my school work, but I’m barely keeping my head above water as it is.”
“What about getting a peer tutor?” Virgil suggested. He took another bite of his sandwich and gestured with his hand while he chewed. Patton waited patiently for him to swallow his food. “The academic center has work study jobs where you can tutor other students. Maybe one of them could help you. They have a tutor for every course offered here. Go on the school’s website, it’s all there. The academic center is also a pretty quiet place to do homework, or just....calm down when things are...overwhelming,” Virgil finished quietly, his cheeks tinging pink. He was always a bit self-conscious when talking about about his mental health state, despite the fact that Patton had once seen him in the throes of a pretty bad anxiety attack.
“I guess I could try that. Couldn’t hurt,” Patton agreed.
A few days later, Patton was sitting at a wooden square table in the back of the academic center, nervously tapping his pencil on his thigh. He had signed up for a tutor for his Theology class to start with. His peer tutor had emailed him that same evening to introduce himself and set up a time to meet. Patton let out a breath and looked around the room at the handful of students studying, some with a textbook and notebook, and others with a laptop. He wondered if they were struggling as much as he was. He bobbed his foot up and down, trying to quell his nervousness. He didn’t know why he was feeling so anxious. He felt like he was on a blind date, since he had no idea what his tutor looked like. He looked around again, and his eyes fell on a guy standing near the front of the room, scanning the tables. He was holding a Bible and a notebook...it had to be him. Their eyes met, and the guy gave Patton a questioning look, which Patton took to mean, “are you the kid I’m supposed to be tutoring right now?” Patton nodded and the guy broke out into a relieved smile as he began to make his way over.
“I’m sorry for that awkward display up there. It’s always difficult to find your tutee when you have no idea what they look like,” the boy said when he got within earshot. “Patton, right?”
“Yes,” Patton nodded and held out his hand. “You’re Roman?”
“That’s right.” Roman took a seat across from him and set his books down. “So, freshman, huh? Apart from this course, how’s your year going?”
“Well honestly, I can’t really focus on too much other than my awful Biblical Theology grade. And my grade in one of my Psych courses, too,” Patton admitted. “But I guess the rest of it’s fine.”
“Bib Theo is surprisingly challenging,” Roman nodded solemnly. “I’m a sophomore, so I took it last year. I liked it, but some of my classmates were also in your boat.”
“I guess they just couldn’t help the flood of disappointment in themselves for doing so poorly,” Patton joked.
Roman’s eyes lit up. “Did you....did you just make a pun about Noah’s Ark?!”
“Sure did,” Patton said with a grin. He could feel some of his tension melting away. Puns tended to do that to him.
“Holy......oh my God,” Roman muttered, grinning.
“Yes, that is exactly what I’m here to talk about.” Patton’s lip quirked.
Roman laughed, “I’ve never heard anyone make puns about religion like that. You’re gonna do just fine in this class, man.”
A couple of hours later, Roman put down his pencil and rolled his neck. “So? Are you ready to ace this course now, or what?”
“Um...I think I do understand this stuff a bit more than I did coming in here,” Patton answered. He looked down at his open notebook. “I mean, I’m not about to run off and transfer to a seminary, but I think I at least have better notes to study for my next exam that’s coming up in a week.”  
“That’s what I like to hear!” Roman grinned. He stretched his arms above his head, then checked his watch. “It’s a quarter to six. Do you have any plans after this?”
Patton swallowed. Was Roman about to ask him out? Could he handle a romantic relationship as well as his classes? Was he even ready for a boyfriend yet? He was only a freshman, after all. Still adjusting to college life. He had a lot on his plate already, not to mention he had just broken up with his high school boyfriend over the summer --
“Patton?” Roman snapped his fingers in front of his face. “You in there?”
“Sorry,” Patton shook his head. Maybe Virgil was rubbing off on him too much. “What?”
“I asked if you had any plans after this. We could get some dinner at Crofters and I could quiz you some more.”
Patton’s mouth watered at the mention of their campus’ small café, which had much better food than the dining hall. “Sure, that sounds great.”
The two boys grabbed their belongings and set off for the café. 
“Hey, Roman?”
“Hmm?”
“Thanks for tutoring me. It really helped.”
“Of course!” Roman answered. “Let me know if you need more sessions.”
“I will. Something tells me I may actually need them.” Patton adjusted his messenger bag on his shoulder. “Oh, and Roman?”
“Yeah?”
“How does Moses make his coffee?”
Roman squinted his eyes in thought. “Uh...I don’t know. How?”
“Hebrews it.”
Roman threw back his head with laughter. “You might just be, by far, my favorite tutee, Patton! Where do you come up with these jokes?”
“I don’t know, I guess I’m just blessed.”
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k-sseulegi · 7 years
Text
JJP fic rec~
I decided to make a list about my personal favorite jjp fics, in honor of their comeback. I do appreciate if you share your favorites with me as well~
Also don’t forget to stream Tomorrow, Today!!  ❀ 
Okay here we go:
Citation - (college au/smut/slow burn/side markson) savage and tsundere jinyoung, only-soft-for-jinyoung jaebum… bad first impressions, and denial of feelings everywhere. sounds quite realistic huh?
Renewal - (a sequel to Citation, where jy is 25 and jb is, well much older) as good as the first one but hella more angsty (yeah i love angst) (and i literally fall in love the characterization of jinyoungie in this one)
Compass Calling (pirate au/prince!jy/pirate!jb/very well-written smut (get ready to squeeze yo ass cheeks)/angst/violence etc...) this fic is e v e r y t h i n g for me… The sexual tension between jinyoung and jaebum is so pleasurable that i cant even. you sink into the atmosphere so easily, the writer is really gifted about portraiting the scenes. it also has a very deep and sad side markson, so get your kokoro ready for this… i can talk about this fic like 9 hours but it’s not necessary bc READ IT OKAY
Better Late Than Never (college au/rich boyz/rivals/fights and angst) ENEMIES TO LOVERS IS MY KINK OKAY i will fite you. ehm let’s get back to the fic, it’s quite dynamic, i mean every second sth happens, so you don’t get bored or lose your concentration. jealous!jaebum stans will love it ( ¬‿¬) 
It has a sequel too and it’s pure angst believe me —> Pace is the Trick
 On the Road to Happiness (coffee shop au/amnesia/fluff/smut/angst/dont be surprised if you see some markjin/ plus side yugbam) Another beautiful fic… Mark is jinyoungie’s first love for a thousand years,platonically ofc, however he’s getting married with another woman and jinyoungie is his best man. and after background information takes place, shit got really real… However the real charm point of the fic is CHIC AND SEXY AND POSSESSIVE AND JEALOUS AND JY’S PEACH STAN JB. i assure that you’ll also see lots of the chin thing dsdkdkf 
I’ll End Up Like Icarus (college au/fluff/romantic comedy)  You should read it, i dont know what else to say. This fic has the most iconic lines i swear you’ll understand what i mean after you read and i like coffee; coffee is the key for everything.
Do What We Do (one shot/smut/cross dressing) get ready to quality smut to the accompaniment of jinyoung wearing a red miniskirt and lowkey but strong jjp feels, that’s all i say.
Breathless (college au/coffee shops/fluff/romantic comedy/mark and jackson are dicks) CUTEST FIC I’VE EVER READ i want to write this fic’s url on my forehead so everyone can reach this beautiful fic and we can make the world a better place i’m serious. Savage, devilish but still cute as hell jinyoung and confused-one-night-stand-boi jaebum strike again!! ((In this point i want to note that the characterization is very important for me in fanfics. I can’t read neither passive and soft jinyoung, or serious and henpecked jb fics. They’re seem so unrealistic (you know what i mean) and boring to me so i don’t enjoy reading them)) Fluffy scenes in this fic make my phone’s screen crack bc of me throwing it to the meaningless spots in my room with a stupid giggle and blush; just a friendly warning before u read…
Glass Fingertips (soulmates/marks/high school au/fluff/angst/some illnesses/dont worry noone’s gonna die) jinyoungie who has just moved in seoul is from jeju island, the place he misses the most and jaebum is his classmate, a froward boy who usually gets into fights and is not liked by much people in their school. Jinyoung has a mark on his forearm which means he has a soulmate somewhere he doesn’t know yet. He’s afraid of the power of the fate and he doesn’t want to believe that a ridiculous mark suddenly has appeared on his arm can erase all his rights to control and direct his life. 
In other words; tough guy jaebum gets soft only for our dazed and confused jinyoung.
Work Sucks (smut/comedy/non au/jjp are officially boyfriends/jb’s about to explode lol) Basicially JB and Jinyoung haven’t have sex for weeks bc of their busy schedule, finally they have a day off but fuck their luck, they’re cockblocked by the world non-stop.
Stupid Lies: Let It All Burn Down (unrequited love/childhood friends/HEAVY ANGST/love triangles) I guess you should first read the previous parts of the Bleeding Love Saga series, but this part is my favorite so i only added this one. Even though it’s not finished yet, i have high expectations about this fic. Jaebum is a softie blindly in love and Jinyoung is an asshole that i don’t understand what he’s trying to do yet, i swore him about 6 minutes per chapter i admit it. *plays kokobop* It goes down down baby~
The Tiger & The Duke (sugar daddy jb/smut/angst/jealous!jb) Fav one of my faves… I personally am not a fan of sugar daddy fics, because everything happens so fast usually; i mean the daddy is the owner of everything, one day he sees our regular boy and falls in love with him immediately, is ready to give him the world etc… But in this fic everything develops slowly for both of them. I love this. And ofc it has savage and unattached jy and jealous, short-tempered and possesive jaebum; seriously what did you expect??
Bed Sheets (prostitute!jy/sugar daddy!jb/angst/smut) rich boy JB wanted our prostitute jy to be his fake boyfriend for one week and things started to get complicated. The characters and the plot are actually similar to The Tiger and The Duke actually but i love it whatsoever.
A Certain Romance (single dad!jb/baby yugyeom/escort!jy/fluff/smut/awkward situations) I’ll just copy paste the summary because that’s it: By day, he’s a top-rated babysitter. By weekends he’s an x-rated escort. These things are generally kept separate, until the day his weekend regular gets his phone number by recommendation and calls for an emergency babysitter. The problem is that Jaebum doesn’t know that Junior the escort is also Jinyoung the babysitter.In which Jaebum and Jinyoung know each other in the biblical sense but maybe want to get to know each other, too.
Also baby yugyeom is too precious for this world.
Walls of Glass (ABO dynamics/tattoos/omega!jb/alpha!jy/enemies to you’ll see/smut) This one is probably my favorite A/B/O universe fic. Jaebum’s family which is the number one enemy of jinyoung’s family (which is a new-house), is an old-house one and has been pure blood alpha for hundreds of years and everyone was sure jaebum is an alpha too, until suddenly the omega tattoo appeared on his neck in the middle of his alpha class. (I’m a simple person; if there’s tsundere jinyoung, sign me in)
The Buckwheat Flower (historical/war/one shot) It’s sad. It’s really sad. It leaves you purposeless. If you’re already sad don’t read it because tears won’t stop. I don’t think I’ll ever forget that very scene.
Hypersystem (sci-fi/unrequitted love) Another fic that broke my heart so bad. You’ll enjoy it if you’re interested in math and stuff tho. Jaebum is in love with Jinyoung for years, but Jinyoung is with Mark. Any other detail i give would be spoiler so i’ll shut up.
Falsettos, Stains, and Drama (high school au/drama club/fluffromeo!jb/juliet!jy/aaaand some jealous!bambam lol /everyone is so cute and shy omg) I’ll end this rec post with a fluffy one. Where the year’s play is Romeo and Juliet and everyone becomes wholly absorbed in their role. 
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hekate1308 · 7 years
Text
Rescue
More Season 12 AU. Basically, Mick Davies needs help. Also, this could be considered anti Mary... alright it is anti Mary. Enjoy!
Something is wrong.
In the past two months, barely any missions have gone the way they were supposed to. Monsters escape, hunters leave as soon as they enter a town, and they still haven’t wiped out all vamps.
Something is terribly, terribly wrong.
It doesn’t take Mary long to realize that this string of failures can’t be a coincidence, especially since things went so well in the beginning.
Her boys alone can’t ruin the Men of Letters. It’s impossible. There’s only two of them after all, plus the angel.
It doesn’t take her long to figure out that there must be a mole within the organization, warning monsters, alienating hunters.
There aren’t many who have enough intel to cause serious damage.
But there is one she’s been suspecting for a while now.
Mick Davies has been behaving strangely. He’s on his phone a lot (she’s heard him talk while passing by his room) and has obviously withdrawn from his colleagues.
Elton and Willoughby don’t think it strange.
“He’s always been something of a     “ Elton tells her. Willoughby nods.
“He’s an odd duck.”                            
That’s not a good enough explanation for her, though.
So she keeps nagging them. She doesn’t feel comfortable with computers yet sadly, at least not enough to hack them, so they have to do it.
And finally, Elton caves. He mumbles something about “calling Dr. Hess”, who Mary has yet to speak to, but eventually decides to wait until they have proof.
And they find it.
Right there in his... inbox. The first message is from –
Dean: Hey, thanks for the info. Got them out in time.
It’s far from the only email.
“What are we supposed to do?” Willoughby mumbles when they tell him.
“We have to inform Dr. Hess” Elton answers.
“And what then? We used to hand over such cases to Ketch, but...”
“We’ll deal” Mary says simply. She’s always done what needs to be done.
It won’t be a problem.
Willoughby shoots her a look she doesn’t understand, but nods.
“You’ll call Hess?” he asks Elton, who complies.
Once they have informed their boss, things begin to fall into place.
Because he has served the men of Letters for many years, he will not be killed immediately. Dr. Hess wants to come over personally and investigate just how bad the situation is.
All in all, she sounds like a sensible woman.
So, first they’ll arrest him and put him in one of the cells in their base.
Really, it should all work out fine, except that Elton moves too quickly, speaks a little too nervously when Mick enters the room they’ve been waiting for him in, and Mick notices.
She didn’t think he would. She’s never thought much of him since the Alpha incident. They’d have been lost without Sam.
But he takes one look at Elton and flees –
In his room?
Rather strange strategy, if you ask her.
They eventually break the door open and find Mick having utterly trashed his phone.
He even put it on fire.
Naturally, this makes them all the more curious what he’s hiding, but the data’s gone.
And he’s not talking.
Somehow, Dean immediately feels antsy the second his phone rings. And that’s not nearly as much the usual case it as used to be, so he immediately tenses up.
“Mick?” he asks.
“Dean. They know. I expect –“
He can hear someone hammering at a door, presumably Mick’s.
“You won’t be hearing from me anymore. Be careful.”
He hangs up. Dean knows better than to call back.
And to think Mick actually sounded like he believes they’ll do nothing.
He darts into the library where Sam and Cas are currently coordinating another hunt of Garth’s.
“Where’s Crowley?”
“Ah, Squirell, you do care.”
Of course as soon as he mentions him the demon is standing behind him.
“We need to get to the Men of letter’s place. Now. Mick’s in trouble.”
“What happened?” Sam asks.
“He just said “they know””.
“Do you think Mary will be there?” Cas asks calmly.
Dean shrugs carelessly.
“Whatever, we can take her. And we can’t leave Mick in there. Remember vampire spy?”
Sam flinches and nods.
“Good then, rescue mission.”
He turns to Crowley.
“As soon as we have all our weapons, you’ll take us as close as you can.”
“I think I almost heard a please there-“
Dean rolls his eyes.
“Then, please, your Majesty will be kind enough to wait until we either get rid of the warding or join you, so we can go home?”
“Of course”.
He’s surprised there’s no sassy comment to accompany his acquiescence, but even Crowley knows wghen time is of the essence.
And the Men of Letters don’t like to waste time. At all.
God knows they almost eradicated vamps within a short amount of months.
It’s remarkably easy to break into their base. Then again, Sam does know the place well.
“Thank God you know about the back door” Dean mutters as they slowly walk down another corridor (he couldn’t stay here for a week, it’s way too cold and impersonal. Give him their new home at the lake with the King of Hell playing pool at all times of the day he wants anytime).
“I’ll check out the holding cells”. Sam told them about them a few months ago. What really irked Dean is that they’re clearly built to hold humans as well as monsters – that is, there are some that aren’t even warded at all.
They nod and Cas draws him into a kiss before turning around.
The cells are easy to locate. 
The look on Mick’s face is freaking priceless. He has to remember it for later.
“Dean?”
“Hi, Mick. Need a hand?”
He can already tell the handcuffs are on too tight.
British bastards.
“What are you doing here?”
“Breaking you out.”
“But the – “
Dean is already working on the lock of the cell.
“How do you – “
“Practice. You do that six hours a day as a kid, you learn.”
“I studied something else at the time.”
“I bet. You can walk?”
He doesn’t look hurt, but you never know.
He’s already getting up.
“Ketch isn’t around anymore.”
Boy, does that have implications. He’s certainly not sorry for turning the psycho over to Crowley.
“They were going to wait anyway until Dr. Hess comes here.”
“Who?”
“My boss.”
“Ah, Mrs. Danvers. Got it.”
He gets the door open.
“Come on”.
He quickly checks his cuffs.
“Damn it”.
Mick’s hands are already red and swollen. Dean makes quick work of the handcuffs.
“Thank you” Mick says, rubbing his wrists.
“Yeah, thank me when we’re out of here.”
He gets a text.
“Cas and Sam have found eleven wardings so far. How many are there?”
“40.”
“Biblical number meaning death. Why doesn’t that surprise me” he mutters as he sends the answer, but tells them it might be unnecessary to go through with the plan since Mick is able to walk.
Meet us at the stairway.
“I wasn’t expecting you to be familiar with Daphne du Maurier’s work” Mick begins quite unexpectedly (must be the small talk imbedded in his blood), “although it can be argued the house does have an almost supernatural – “
“Yeah, look, can we get out of here first before we start nerding out? That’d be great.”
Mick nods.
At least he hasn’t been in that cell too long. Thank God for demon beaming.
Sam and Cas obviously didn’t run into any problems either.
“Sam” Mick says, “Castiel. It’s good to see you again.”
He makes no difference between his brother and his angel, for which Dean is grateful. He doesn’t want Sam to beat himself up over their association more than he already has.
Then, naturally, it all goes to Hell. Or maybe not. Hell isn’t much of a threat these days.
“What are you doing?”
“Hello, Mary” Dean greets their mother evenly. She’s holding a gun, but at least she’s not pointing it at them.
He’s shocked at how little he cares to see her. Just two years ago, when she came back, he couldn’t have been happier. Now he doesn’t even consider her part of the family.
For God’s sake, the guy they are breaking out has done more for them than she has.
“We figured we’d save Mick here before your posh friends torture him to death”.
“He’s a traitor” she hisses. Her eyes wander to Sam.
It’s easy to tell what she’s thinking.
Dean laughs. He can’t help it.
Cas steps closer to him, his warmth reminding him of all that he gained the day he finally said no to his family and let those who wished to join come to him for a change.
“Seriously? You only consider Sammy the traitor? I was never on your radar much, was I, Mom.”
What mother would let her kid comfort her after she and her husband had a fight, after all?
“You left” she says, “you left and then you manipulated Sam – “
“We didn’t even talk before I left!” Sam snaps. “If anyone manipulated me from the start, it was you! I should never have turned my back on Dean. He was always there for me!”
“It’s not my fault I wasn’t” Mary says softly and the fact that Dean can’t tell if she’s genuinely sad or just trying to get into their good graces again is horrifying on its own.
“But you could have been there for them later” Mick chimes in and Dean suddenly realizes he’s more qualified to discuss things with Mary because he’s spent the most time with her.
This is all so...
Cas gently touches his wrist at the same time he feels it.
They turn around, their weapons drawn.
Wonderful. More Brits.
“And who do you happen to be?”
“The Winchesters” snarls one of them, “why am I not surprised?”
“Elton and Willoughby” Mick introduces them.
Dean blinks.
“Are you kidding me? Like – “
Mick coughs while Sam looks confused.
“Yes. They don’t like to talk about it.”
“I bet.”
“Look, I think we all agree no one here wants to shoot anyone else. Why don’t you just leave the traitor here. We know what to do with him.”
“That’s why we’ve come to rescue him” Cas simply answers.
“And I don’t really think planning to kill us means we’re at peace” Dean points out.
“Davies” Elton begins –
“Don’t” Mick interrupts him. “Nothing you could say would change my mind.”
Huh. Dean underestimated him. And that impression is only going to strengthen.
As it turns out, they haven’t counted on Mary. Yes, Sam and Mick are both watching her – and thank God the Man of Letters doesn’t freeze like Sam.
Not that Dean blames. If he actually saw Mary raise her gun, God knows what he would do.
But Mick – still pretty high on adrenaline, Dean bets – manages to tackle her just in time.
And then all Hell breaks loose.
Literally.
Mary’s screaming “Why can’t you see I just want what’s the best for you – “ when Dean feels the floor vibrate.
It’s a familiar feeling.
A few seconds later, thousands of demons attack and break the wards.
It’s easy enough when you’re powerful enough as an army to tear down walls.
Crowley appears and flicks his wrist to throw Mary of Mick, although to his credit, he simply puts her gently on the ground while Elton and Willoughby get thrown into the next standing wall hard enough to crack their skulls.
“You were taking too long” he explains casually.
“Ready to go?”  
“Ready when you are.”
A blink later they’re at home.
“God” Sam sighs, sinking into a chair.
“She was going to – and I just froze –“
“Relax, Moose. It’s your mother. Everyone is a little soft when it comes to that subject.”
Cas reaches out to Dean.
“Are you alright?”
Dean nods.
“You are the King of Hell” Mick says dumbly, while Dean is checking up on Sam.
Crowley waves at him.
“Crowley’s the name. And you’re Mick Davies, I understand.”
“Mick Davies, Man of – “ he breaks off, looking confused.
Then, slowly, he says, “I guess I’m a hunter, now.”
“Don’t worry, you should have seen those three when I first met them. Hopeless, I tell you.”
Sam laughs at that. Dean and Cas, relieved, join him.
Looks like they found themselves another room mate.
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