#walking study in demonology | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hanaridulsetcheese · 25 days ago

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the boy at the library ~ sam winchester

In a small town somewhere in America, you were at the local library completing your weekly shift. Sam Winchester was busy trying to do research on a case he and his brother were trying to crack but when he couldn't find a book he was looking for he decided to ask for help.

"Excuse me," he said awkwardly, towering over you. "Do you know where I can find a book on demonology? It's for research purposes." he awkwardly smiles.

You looked at the tall boy standing at the front of the desk, he seemed to be about your age, maybe a year or two older. Usually, you were not one to find attraction to people immediately but this boy was entirely captivating.

His brown hair was slightly tousled and his shirt was untucked and messy. He had such a cute college boy look to him but his eyes told a different story, his eyes looked as if he had seen through the life of ten men at once.

"Yes, it's in this aisle, what's the book name I'll help you look? " you walk out to him and lead him down the array of aisles.

Sam was taken aback for a moment, his heart skipped a few beats as you agreed to help. He was used to having people be instantly intimidated by his tall built physique and cold demeanour and yet, you seemed different.

"Great," he said, clearing his throat and trying to remain cool. "The book is called 'Tales of Demonic Encounters.' It was written by a Reverend named Thomas Harries. Ever heard of it?"

"As a matter of fact I have. " you immediately lead him down the stream of books in the aisle and pick out the book he wanted. It was tucked amongst the mass of other religious and mythology series the library had in stock.

The book you pull out was on a higher shelf but you were still able to reach it. It was a thick leather bound book with a collection of dust on it. Sam stands directly behind you and places a large hand atop of yours to help you remove the book. A slight blush flushes a little across your cheeks at the contact.

Sam tries his best to stay calm as you retrieve the book. Your scent fills his nostrils, a mixture of sweet roses and something distinctly endearing.

He feels your hand beneath his, smaller and more delicate than his own. His heart races as his fingers brush against your skin, the contact sending a spark through his entire body. He releases your hand before taking the book from you, your fingers lingering on each other for a few more seconds than necessary.

"Thanks," he says, looking at the book in his hands before looking back to you. "You're a lifesaver."

"Say, what's a boy like you doing studying about demons? " you lean against the shelves and cross your arms against your chest.

You eye Sam up and down and notice a slight pink tinge on his cheeks similar to that of yours. "You seem like a more law type of guy- " you raise an eyebrow waiting for his name.

Sam feels a wave of nervousness wash over him as you ask the question. He knew he couldn't give you a straightforward answer, not without raising suspicion. He had to think fast. "Oh, you know," he says, forcing a convincing smile. "Just a hobby of mine. I'm interested in mythology and such. “

He glances down at your crossed arms, his eyes lingering on your figure for a moment before he looks back at your face. "The name's Sam Winchester. " he says, his voice a little quieter now.

"Sam, cute. " you stick a hand out at him, "Y/N. " you say, giving him a small smile. Sam takes your hand in his own, his grip firm but gentle.

"Y/N. " he repeats, savouring the way your name rolls off of his tongue. "That's a beautiful name. Suits you. " he lingers for a moment, not wanting to let go of your hand just yet.

"So, a demon hobby, huh? I dabble a little in mythology as well. " you shrugged, peeking at the stack of notes he had in his hand.

Sam notices you glancing at the notes. They were mostly sketches of demonic symbols, and the occasional drawing of a grotesque demon head. He realises that he has to be careful, he couldn't let you see the truth.

"Oh, yeah," he says, casually hiding the notes behind his back. "It's a fascinating subject, you know? Not for everyone, I suppose. But I find it intriguing."

"No, I understand. People think I'm crazy for wanting to major in mythology and dark arts. They look at me like I'm going to do some demonic thing to them. " you laugh slightly, gesturing to yourself, clad in a plain white shirt with a red flannel over it and some jeans. "Do I look demonic, Sam? "

This was said as a joke but you noticed something changed in Sam's demeanour. He tried to remain calm, but your mention of demonic things puts him on edge. He knows that he has to play his cards right.

"Demonic? No, not at all," he responds, forcing a smirk. "Quite the opposite, actually. You look kind and friendly." He glances down at your outfit, trying to keep his expression neutral. "Besides, I think you'd make a terrible demon," he adds, his tone lighthearted.

"A terrible demon? Why'd you reckon? " you place your hands into your back pocket and look into his eyes. They were this pretty blue colour that you couldn't help but get sucked into. You notice him also observing you in the same way.

"Well," Sam says, his gaze still fixed on yours. "Demons are cunning and manipulative. They prey on people's weaknesses and desires. But you seem different. More authentic, and honest." he takes a step closer to you, his tall frame towering over you. "It's refreshing, in a way. Almost, entangling... alluring."

"Oh. " you trail of feeling a little spark of excitement in your stomach as he steps closer. His smell wafts through your nose, very cinnamon centred with a hint of oak. He towered over you, your face barely peeking over his shoulder.

Sam notices how much smaller you were than him. It was endearing, in a way. It made him feel protective, wanting to keep you safe. He leaned down closer to you, almost unconsciously. The air between you grew heavy with tension.

"Honesty is important," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I think demons can be a tad dishonest every now and then."

"You seem to speak from personal experience? " you tilt your head, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

Sam freezes, realising that he said too much. He mentally scolds himself, cursing his slip-up. He steps back, creating a small distance between you. He tries to keep his face neutral as he laughs it off.

"No, not really," he said quickly, forcing a smile. "I just have a lot of experience talking to people, that's all." He glances down at the book he borrowed, then back up at you.

"Oh I understand Sam. " you peek out of the aisle to make sure no one saw you two.

"Sit. " you take a seat on the floor and gesture to Sam to sit beside you. He complies, the space just barely enough for his long legs. Sam feels a mixture of nerves and curiosity as he sits down next to you, his knee barely brushing against your leg, sending a small shiver down his spine.

Taking the book from his hands and laying it between you so you both could see, "What are you looking for in here? "

He glances down at the book and ponders your question. He couldn't tell you the truth, not about demons anyway. He had to come up with something plausible. "Just doing research," he says eventually. "Studying up on some demonic lore, nothing too fascinating."

"Come one Sammy, give me more than that. Maybe I can help. I do study these types of things. " you lightly bump his shoulder, giving him a smile.

He looks at you, seeing the genuine offer to help. He knew he should keep you at arm's length, keep you safe. But he couldn't resist your smile, your kind eyes. "Okay, fine," he relents. "Honestly, I'm trying to find out more about demons and what they're capable of."

"Any specific type you're looking for? From my knowledge of the type of mythology I study there can be different types. " you continue to explain your studies to him. There was a warm feeling in you as you noticed him listening intently to you, his eyes never leaving your face. You were passionate about the subject, and your excitement about it was contagious.

He felt his heart beat faster as you spoke, hanging on to every word. It was endearing to see you so animated and knowledgeable. "Different types of demons? I never realised," he said, despite already knowing what you're saying. "I thought they were all the same, just evil creatures of the night."

"Well they are, but you see they all have different purposes. Some make deals with humans, you know selling your soul and stuff - "

Sam's eyes widen as you mention demons making deals, a sudden jolt of adrenaline shooting through him. He tries to keep his composure, praying that his reaction didn't give anything away.

"Deals?" he asks, as casually as possible. "Like, making deals for people's souls? That kind of thing?"

"There's this myth that if you sell your soul to a crossroads demon, they kill you off after ten years. " you whisper.

Sam's heart races at the mention of crossroads demons. He knew all too well the truth about them. "Crossroads demons," he says, his voice low. "They're tricky bastards, that's for sure. Do you believe that? The ten year deal, I mean."

"Well, it's a myth right? " you laugh but then notice the serious look on Sam's face. "Can I be honest with you Sam? "

Sam glances down at you, his face serious but also curious. He doesn't know what to expect from the question, but nods at you to continue. "What is it? "

"I do believe that there's something out there, like the supernatural. Ever since I was a kid I felt like that. I thought by studying about it in university, it would help me understand. "

Sam looks at you in disbelief, not knowing what to make of your confession. He had never met someone so open about this kind of thing. To be so willing to believe in the supernatural without much evidence was...refreshing.

He leaned in closer as you spoke, hanging on your every word. "You've always felt that way?" he asks. "Since you were a kid? You've never wondered if perhaps it's just your imagination?"

"I think it was maybe just my imagination but hey, it's still interesting to learn about I guess. "

Sam smiled at your response, finding your unwavering belief in the unknown fascinating. Your willingness to explore this world of shadows and demons without fear was admirable.

"Interesting is one word for it," he says, his tone slightly humorous. "Most people run for the hills at the mention of anything supernatural."

"True. " you agree, laying your head against the book shelf behind. "What got you interested? "

Sam leans into the shelf as well, his body just barely touching yours. He tries to keep a level head, but it's becoming increasingly difficult.

He thinks for a moment, before replying. "Let's just say interest runs in the family. " he says. "There's so much out there in the shadows that people don't understand. It's like a mystery waiting to be unravelled."

"A mystery waiting to be unravelled. " you are unaware of the reality of his words. Sam chuckles as he watches you ponder.

"What's funny? " you lift your head to look at him only to find him smiling at you.

Sam shakes his head, his smile growing wider. "It's nothing, just a thought," he replies, his eyes never leaving yours. He can't help but stare at you, admiring the innocence in your gaze. It was refreshing to see someone so curious and open-minded, someone who wasn't aware of the dark secret he carried.

"Share your thoughts with the class, Sam. " you place your hand on his.

Sam's heart skids in his chest as you place your hand on his. The feeling of your skin against his sends electricity coursing through his body. "Well - " he starts, his voice slightly more strained than usual. "It's just that I find it amusing that you're so interested in the supernatural, and yet you have no idea how close to the truth you actually are."

"The truth? What? Some demon is coming to get me? " you joke.

Sam lets out a strained laugh, shaking his head. "No, no," he says. "Just...you've got a good eye. You're looking in the right places. You never know what you might find."

The irony is not lost on him. Here he was, a professional demon hunter, sitting with a girl who was oblivious to the monsters that lurk in the shadows.

"And why would I want to find it? Look I may be interested in these things but hey if a demon showed up on my doorstep I'd shit myself. "

Sam laughs heartily at your comment. He imagines your reaction. "Well, I can't blame you there," he says, still chuckling. "Seeing a demon up close and personal is no joke. Most people would have a heart attack on the spot."

You noticed the honesty in his words and began to wonder, "Yeah, it must be scary. "

Sam nods at your response, his expression becoming a little more serious. "Yeah, it is," he says, his voice quieter now. "Demons are vicious creatures, dangerous and unpredictable. They'll stop at nothing to...well, let's just say they're not here to be your friend."

"Sam are you alright? " You turn fully towards him and take a hold of his hand. There is a tired look in his eyes that grows more prominent now in the dull light of the library.

Sam's hand instinctively holds onto yours, his grip firm but gentle. He looks down at your intertwined hands, letting out a soft sigh. "I'm just tired," he confesses, his voice weary. "I haven't had a good night's sleep in ages. It's like I can't escape..."

He catches himself, realising he's said too much. He quickly tries to put on a smile, trying to hide his exhaustion.

You couldn't help but caress his cheek, feeling slightly bad for the boy in front of you. He seemed like a genuine person who has been through a lot.

"I know how that feels, I have ADHD and sometimes it doesn't let me sleep at night. " you say, trying to be vulnerable towards him to show him that you were genuine.

Sam leans into your touch, the feeling of your hand against his cheek soothing. He glances at you, his expression a mixture of surprise and comfort.

"You have ADHD? I never would've guessed." he smiles at your attempt to relate to him, appreciating the gesture more than you could know.

"Was it all the fidgeting or the non-stop talking? " you laugh a little and so does he, a dimple popped out on his cheek that makes you look at him fondly.

"Maybe a combination of both," he says. "You're surprisingly bouncy and talkative. It's cute."

"Thanks. " you shrugged, "Most think I'm annoying. "

Sam looks at you, a look of disbelief on his face. "Annoying? Those people must be idiots." He shakes his head, still smiling at you. "You're not annoying. Far from it."

"You're nice Sam. " you brush your hands through his hair before your eyes land on the clock on the wall. "I've got to get back to my shift. "

Sam helps you gather up the notes he had borrowed, feeling a pang of disappointment as you prepare to leave. "Okay, yeah, of course," he says, still a little reluctant to see you go.

He gazes down at you, his eyes lingering for a moment. "Before you go," he says suddenly, a flicker of courage sparking inside of him. "Can I ask you something?"

"What is it? "

Sam's heart thumps loudly in his chest, his mind suddenly racing. He knew he was taking a risk here, but he had to ask.

"I was wondering if I could have your number," he says, his voice slightly shaky. "Just in case I need some more myth and lore advice sometime."

"Oh, yeah sure. " you smiled and pulled out a pen from a stack of the notes he had and wrote down your number on the top page of the stack before noticing a symbol he had scribbled down on it.

"I know this symbol. " you gently pull out the page and examine it closely. Sam looks surprised at the fact that you had recognised it.

"You know that symbol? " he asks, his tone a mixture of disbelief and caution.

"Hades. " you say, nodding your head. "Ancient Greek, I'm talking like really ancient. This was used as a summoning tool to get one of Hades' men to show up. People who had the means to call upon him used this to get a one way ticket to the underworld, kinda like skipping the whole dead line and passing all those judgement people. "

"That's what this is? A summoning tool? " he glanced back down at the paper. "How did you get that so fast? "

"I study this Sam, kind of my speciality. " you say.

Eyes widen as you easily identify each symbol, one after the other. Sam can't help but feel a pang of worry mixed with fascination. Were you simply a mythology enthusiast, or was there something more to your vast knowledge?

"Okay, so all these symbols have something to do with summoning one one Hades’ men, Thanatos, but there's a piece missing. "

Sam's mind races as he takes in your words. He swallows hard, trying to keep his cool. "What piece is missing? " he inquires, keeping his voice steady.

"I'm assuming that's what you're looking for? The missing piece? You're not going to find it in this book then. " you say.

"Not in this book, why's that? “ he asks.

"This book is filled with Christian lore. You're not going to find anything here. You need ancient Greek lore. "

He sighs, his shoulders slumping slightly. "Damn," he mutters. "Ancient Greek lore, huh? Any idea where I might find something like that? “

"Follow me mister, I do still work here after all. " you walk past the book aisles to the other side of the library where the ancient Greek and Roman books were situated. "Here they are. "

Sam’s mind was still racing from your earlier revelation. He takes in the unfamiliar titles surrounding him as you stop in front of a shelf filled with ancient Greek and Roman texts.

"I hope you can read ancient Greek. " you laugh. "I'll leave you to it though, my supervisor will kick my ass if she doesn't find me at the front desk. Let me know when you're done though. "

Sam chuckles at your joke and gives a nod as you prepare to leave. He watches you go, appreciating the help you've given him so far. "Hey, wait," he calls out suddenly, a thought crossing his mind.

You stop in your tracks and turn back to him, "Yes? "

Sam hesitates for a moment, wondering if he should ask his question. But then he decides to just go for it. "Since you're so knowledgeable about all this lore, can I ask you one more thing? " he inquires, his eyes searching yours for a response.

"Fire away. "

Sam chews on his lower lip as he considers how to phrase his question. He didn't want to sound crazy, but he had to ask. "Alright," he begins, his voice slightly shaky. "Hypothetically, if someone were to want to call upon Thanatos, how would they do it? “

"Summon Thanatos, seriously? " you wanted to laugh but then noticed the serious expression on Sam’s face. You cleared your throat and grabbed the pile of notes from his hand and assembled them onto the table.

It all formed pieces of a really weird puzzle and only the first piece was missing. "There you go, until you find the missing piece you can't do anything though. Whatever you have to do, it needs to be done in this order. "

Sam watched intently as you arranged the notes into a makeshift puzzle. He was impressed with your ability to piece together seemingly unrelated information, forming a clearer picture. He reaches out to the table, his fingers brushing across the notes. "And if I find the missing piece? " he asks, a hint of anxiousness in his voice.

"You call upon Thanatos, I presume. " you confirm. "That's what these symbols are. All demons are trapped in hell which is the underworld for the ancient Greeks. Get the right piece and I guess it's like opening a door for them. "

Sam nods slowly, absorbing your words.

"I'm assuming this isn't some kind of project. " you look at Sam with a serious and concerned expression laced on your face.

Sam's eyes meet yours, and he hesitates for a moment. He could feel your concern, and it tugged at him. He knew he shouldn't keep you in the dark, that you deserved an explanation, but before he can form a response, he's interrupted by a ringing sound from his pocket. He pulls out his phone and glances at the screen, his expression hardening.

Sam answers the call and turns away from you, his voice barely above a whisper as he speaks into the phone "What do you have, Dean? "

He listens for a few moments, his free hand running through his hair in a frustrated gesture. He glances over at you momentarily, making sure you weren't listening. After a brief moment Sam gets off the phone, his voice now hasty and laced with worry.

"I need to go," he says abruptly, his tone urgent. "Something's come up."

"Oh alright, well don't forget your stuff. " you help him gather the pages again and watch him stuff it into his bag.

Sam nods in thanks, his mind clearly elsewhere. He slings the bag over his shoulder and turns to look at you. "Sorry to cut this short," he apologises, his voice tinged with regret. "I'll make it up to you, I promise."

"Don't worry about it, whatever that was sounded important. " you smile and watch as he walks away fast from the library. You look out the window and watch him get into a black car with another guy as they drive away in a hurry leaving you to your shift.

~~~

"Find anything? " Dean asks Sam as they speed through the road.

Sam shakes his head, his mind still on the conversation with you. He was frustrated that he didn't have the answer yet. "Not yet," he replies, his voice tight. "But there was this girl at the library, she was surprisingly familiar with the symbols. “

"A girl huh? She's pretty? " Dean smirks at Sam before returning his eyes to the road.

Sam scoffs and rolls his eyes at Dean. Trust him to focus on that aspect.

"She's...interesting," Sam replies, trying to downplay it. "She knew a lot about the symbols, more than most people. “

"You think she's a demon? " Dean asked seriously.

Sam paused for a moment, considering the possibility. While it seemed far-fetched, it wasn't completely outside the realm of possibility. "No," he finally answers, shaking his head. "She seemed normal. Human."

"What'd she give you? Anything useful that would explain all these walking corpses around town? "

Sam reaches into his bag and pulls out the stack of pages filled with scribbled notes and symbols. "She was able to identify these," he says, shuffling through the pile. "And she explained what they were but we're still missing a piece. It’s like a puzzle. "

"Man, I hate puzzles. " Dean complained.

Sam nods in agreement, especially when your life, and other people's lives, depended on them. "Yeah, tell me about it," he mutters, rubbing a hand over his tired eyes. "But we have to figure it out. People are dying, Dean. We have to stop it. "

"Yeah I know. She say anything about the missing piece? Where do we find it? “

Sam shakes his head, sighing in frustration. "No, but she did say something about ancient Greek and Roman lore. So we might need to dig through some of Bobby’s old history books."

"Oh yay, love me the Olympics. " Dean rolled his eyes and pulled up to the motel they were staying at. They both rush into the room and shut the doors and windows immediately.

Sam sits down at the small desk, opening the laptop and immediately launching an online search for information on the mythology. He types in keywords related to their case and scans through page after page of search results, hoping to find something useful.

Dean cracks open a beer and begins looking through Bobby's old journals trying to find something useful to them. After about two and a half hours of searching they came up with nothing. "Damn it man. You're saying this library chick knew this stuff immediately? "

Sam shuts the laptop in frustration, rubbing a hand over his tired face. They had been at it for hours and still had nothing. "Yeah," he confirms. "She seemed to recognize the symbols right away, and knew what they were used for. It's like none of this was a surprise to her. "

"Sounds fishy man, are you sure she was human? " Dean takes a swig of his second beer.

Sam sighs and shrugs, his mind still lingering on your knowledge of the symbols. It was impressive, but it did raise a few questions. "I don't know," he admits, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

"You said she studied these things? Like as a degree? "

Sam nods, recalling what you had told him at the library. "Yeah, she said she was interested in these things, and she had studied them extensively. "

"Look, I know you're developing some sort of attachment to this girl but we might need her help, Sammy. " Dean looks at his brother, Sam's face was conflicted. He too didn't want to drag an innocent girl into this.

Sam frowns,he knew Dean was right, but the thought of putting you in danger didn't sit well with him. "I don't want to put anyone in harm's way," he argues, his voice a mix of concern and determination. "But you're right. We need her help, she's the only lead we have right now."

Sam hesitates for a moment, but he finally pulls out his phone and dials your number and waits anxiously for you to pick up.

You were about to close up the library when your phone rang all of a sudden. Fishing it out of the bag you answered the call, waiting for the caller to speak first.

As the call connects, Sam takes a deep breath, mentally preparing himself. "Hello?" he says into the phone, his tone laced with urgency.

"Hi, who is this? " you ask.

"It's Sam Winchester," he replies, his voice serious. "The guy from the library earlier today. Look, I need to talk to you about something important."

"Oh hi Sam, what can I do for you? " you asked, locking up the library and heading to the car.

Sam takes note of the sound of keys in the background. "Are you still at the library?" he asks.

"Almost about to leave, why? Did you forget something here? " you asked, now in the car tossing your bag in the backseat. There was a slight ringing in your head followed by a sharp pain. You reached back to your bag and brought out your painkillers.

"No, no, it's nothing like that," Sam reassures you. "But there's something I need to talk to you about in person. It's pretty important. Can we meet? "

"Yeah sure, how far are you from the library? " you manage to say after swallowing the pills.

Sam looks out the motel window, his gaze fixed on the street outside. "Not too far. We're staying at the Starlight motel. Room 4B. Can you come over here?"

"Oh, alright. Who's 'we' by the way? " you ask, starting the engine and pulling out of the parking lot.

Sam grimaces, realising that he hadn't really explained the situation fully to you yet. "Oh uh...my brother Dean's here with me," he admits, his voice slightly apologetic.

"Oh I see. I'll be on my way shortly Sam. " you say goodbye and make your way to the motel a little weary of why Sam sounded so urgent. For the sake of protection, you pulled pepper spray from the bag and walked up to the motel room, knocking on the door.

Sam and Dean hear the knock at the door, and Sam jumps up to answer it. He glances through the peephole and sees you standing outside. He opens the door and immediately his eyes widen at the sight of your pepper spray. "Whoa, easy there," he says, holding up his hands in a gesture of peace.

"Sorry, momma taught me to be safe. " you laugh and enter the room, pepper spray still in hand. There was another guy there you assumed to be Sam’s older brother. He was a little older than Sam, slightly shorter with green eyes.

Dean watches you as you enter the room, his expression a mix of curiosity and scepticism. He takes note of the pepper spray in your hand, silently assessing if you were a threat. But when you mention your mother, he barks a laugh. "Smart woman," he comments with a smirk. "Never hurts to be prepared. “

"I'm Y/N. " you extend your hand to the guy and he shakes it, telling you his name. You then turn to Sam, "What is it that you called me for? "

Sam motions for you to take a seat on the bed. He sits down next to you, while Dean stands by the window with his arms crossed. "Alright, this is going to sound a little strange," Sam begins, looking at you intently. "But there's something we need to ask you about. “

"Alright then, ask away. "

Sam glances at Dean, silently asking if he should reveal the truth fully. Dean just shrugs nonchalantly. Sam takes a deep breath and turns back to you. "Have you ever heard of demons before?" he asks, his voice measured and serious.

"Demons? " you laugh, looking back and forth between the brothers, "Like the ones in myths we were talking about today? "

Sam and Dean exchange a glance, amused by your scepticism. "No, not myths," Sam answers bluntly. "We mean real, authentic demons. Straight out of Hell."

"What? "

Dean leans against the wall, a cocky smirk on his face. "You think we're pulling your leg, don’t you?" he says, looking at your doubtful expression.

"We'll yeah, just little. " you eye Dean up and down.

"Look. demons are real and we need a way to stop them. " Dean blurts out, Sam gives Dean a warning glare. He had wanted to ease you into this revelation, not just dump it all on you at once.

"What he means is that we're hunters," Sam explains, his gaze fixed on you intently. "Hunters of supernatural creatures, like demons, monsters, and witches."

"Hunters? " you tilt your head, taking in the information.

Sam nods, his expression serious. "Yeah," he confirms. "We track and kill things that go bump in the night. We've been doing it our whole lives."

"Wait, this may sound crazy but do you know Bobby Singer? " you ask.

Dean immediately averts his gaze from you to Sam. "You know Bobby? " Dean stares at me.

Sam pauses, a little taken aback by your question. He glances at Dean, who looks equally surprised. "Yeah," he answers slowly, his curiosity piqued. "We know Bobby. How do you know him?"

"Bobby is my uncle. Well my dad's family friend, I used to see him a lot when I was little. He used to tell me stories all the time about how he was a hunter and he used to kill monsters like what you’re saying now. Of course he was a drunk so nothing he said was real but it still made me interested in mythology. "

Dean looks at you quizzically, his mind racing with questions. "Why hasn't Bobby ever mentioned you? " he asks, his voice laced with suspicion.

"He and my dad had this fight when I was twelve, never saw him since. "

Sam's eyebrows furrowed, "What happened between them? If you don't mind me asking. " he asks, his tone softer now.

"Something about a hunting trip gone wrong? I think my dad must've messed up and Bobby got angry. They used to go deer hunting often. "

Sam and Dean exchange a knowing glance. They both knew about the disastrous hunting trip Bobby had gone on with John. They had heard it from Bobby many times over the years.

"Must have been one hell of a hunt," Dean mutters, more to himself than anyone else.

"Wait but what does that have to do with demons? My dad hunted deer with Bobby, not monsters or whatever. Those were just stories. "

Sam takes a deep breath, knowing that the explanation was about to get more complicated. "It's a little more than that," he begins. "Bobby was involved in a different type of hunting. Supernatural hunting and now I think that your dad was involved too. "

"You're joking, right? " you look between the brothers confused.

Dean snorts with a sarcastic laugh. "Hell, I wish we were," he says, his expression serious. "But we've been hunting these things all our lives. Demons, ghosts, werewolves, you name it."

You swallowed hard, trying to hide the fear. "So what do you want from me? I'm not some type of demon or anything. "

Sam quickly senses your fear and places a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "No, no, we know you're not a demon," he reassures you. "We just wanted to ask you about those symbols. "

"Oh. " you eased up a little. "Well those are to summon Thanatos from the underworld like I explained. "

Dean leans forward, intrigued. "How do you know so much about these symbols? "

"Mythology 101 at Harvard. " you say, shrugging as if it were nothing.

Dean raises an eyebrow, clearly impressed. "Harvard, huh? Brains and beauty."

You blush at his words and fail to notice the annoyed look Sam gives his brother. He didn't miss the way Dean was eyeing you up and down.

"So anyway, what do you need me for? I already explained what there was. " you asked.

Sam rubs the back of his neck, slightly hesitating before speaking. "Well, we're trying to figure out how this thing got to earth and why someone would have wanted to summon it."

"And you think that I could help? "

Sam rubs his forehead, the exhaustion from the long day catching up to him. "We don't have anyone else to ask right now," he admits. "You said you know a lot about this, so we thought you might be able to give us some answers. “

You notice the exhaustion on both Sam and Dean's face and nod, agreeing to help them.

"Can you read ancient Greek? " Dean asks, placing one of Bobby’s old journals in front of you.

"Yes I can, a little rusty but I can do it. " you glance at this book and pull out a blank page to scribble down whatever you decipher. "This might take me a while, it's a lot and let's just say the grammar is terrible. “

Dean chuckles at your comment, his impatience showing. "Take all the time you need, sweetheart, we got all night. “

You continue pouring over the text, the brothers leave you at the table and do some research on the laptop. You were all busy for what felt like about three hours.

Sam and Dean had gotten so engrossed in their research that they lost track of time. Sam glances over at you at the small table and notices you diligently working on the ancient text. "How's it going over there? " he calls out.

"I'm almost done. " you say, scribbling the last few words on the page.

"That was quick," Dean comments, a hint of surprise in his voice.

"Thanks, I was the top student. " you walk over to them at the coffee table and sit next to Sam, placing the page of translated Greek in the centre.

"Damn, that's some impressive writing skills you got there, sweetheart," Dean smirks.

Sam gives Dean a warning glance, silently telling him to cut it out. "Dean," he says, his tone stern. "Give it a rest, will you? " Dean rolls his eyes and nods.

"Okay so from what was written the missing piece isn't a symbol but more of a chant that you say out loud as you assemble the pieces together. It’s a ritual. “

Sam rubs his chin thoughtfully, taking in your translation. “So if we do this, we summon whatever is bringing those corpses back? Thanatos, you said? “

You nod, confirming his words. "Yeah. it says you have to do it thirty minutes before the full moon rises and guess what moon it is tonight. "

"We have about an hour until we need to do this. " Dean says, looking at the time.

"Damn, you're right," Sam mutters.

You watch as the brothers scramble to get everything ready for the ritual. They pull out weird looking items in jars and bags with different types of smells. "You just casually have these things? "

Dean looks up from loading his shotgun with salt rounds and gives you a smirk. "We travel a lot," he says, his tone nonchalant. "We're always prepared."

Sam gathers the supplies and sets up a circle on the ground, carefully drawing symbols and diagrams around it. As they prepare the final items for the ritual you take a seat on the couch and rub your temples, trying to subside the oncoming headache.

With fifteen minutes to spare before they start you pull Sam to the side while Dean is busy. "Hey, are you okay? " you ask him, noticing the fatigue on his face.

Sam pauses, he can see the concern in your eyes, and appreciates your thoughtfulness. "Yeah, I'm okay," he replies, his voice a bit weary. "Just a little tired, and worried about what we're about to do."

He suddenly takes hold of your hand and intertwines your fingers, surprised by the comfort your touch brings him.

"It must be scary? Having to deal with all of this. "

“It is scary," he admits, his gaze meeting yours. "We've seen and faced things most people wouldn't believe exist. But we don't have a choice. We do this, or innocent people get hurt. Or worse."

"You're heroes. " you smile up at him.

Sam can't help but smile back, a hint of pride in his expression. "Thanks," he says, his voice softer now. "But we don't always feel like heroes. There's a lot of pain and suffering we've seen. Sometimes, we question if we're making any difference at all."

"One less demon on earth, I'd say that's a big difference. " you nod and place a soft kiss on his cheek. "It's almost time, you should join your brother. "

Sam's breath hitches and he savours the moment for a brief second, before nodding in agreement. "Yeah, you're right. "

You watch as they wait for the right moment to begin the ritual. Sam effortlessly says the chant as Dean readies himself for whatever may come with a blade in his hand. You move behind the couch, away from them to be safe and out of the way.

The room suddenly turned cold and the pain in your head grew more intense. Your vision clouds with green mist and as you make out a figure standing in the middle of the symbol that Sam drew.

You blink to clear the mist from your eyes and notice the figure at Dean’s foot, dead. Confusion washes over you and you realise that the whole thing was over.

Finally, Sam looks over at you and gives you a small nod. "It worked," he says, his voice filled with relief and exhaustion as if everything lasted a long time.

You stare as the brothers clean out the mess. Dean drags the figure outside to bury its body before you could get a close look at it.

You were left with Sam alone in the room. "I can't believe that just happened. " you say stunned.

"Yeah, believe me, it’s a lot to take in." Sam agrees.

"Wait until you find out about the angels. " Dean shouts from outside.

Sam chuckles at your astonishment. “Thank you for staying out of the way, it put up a good fight, you would’ve gotten hurt. “

You nod, having no idea what he was talking about.

"You okay? " he asks, genuine concern in his eyes. "You holding up alright? " Sam closes the distance between the two of you. In the dim light of the room, he takes a moment to look at you, his gaze lingering on your face.

"I'm going to be honest Sam, that sacred me but I didn't shit myself so I think I'll be fine. "

Sam throws his head back and lets out a hearty laugh at your unexpected response. There’s a hint of relief in his expression as he looks back at you. "I appreciate your honesty," he grins, still chuckling. "Most people wouldn’t be so calm after witnessing a demon exorcism."

"I'm definitely not going to be able to sleep tonight but that's nothing a little alcohol can't fix. "

Sam's expression softens. He can only imagine the shock and adrenaline rushing through your body right now. "You sure you want to go the alcohol route? " he says, a hint of worry in his voice.

"What other route is there Sam? I just saw the supernatural in real life, found out everything my drunk uncle Bobby told me was real. I think I deserve a drink. Heck, you deserve like five for dealing with this all the time. "

Sam lets out a sigh, knowing that you had a point. He can't really blame you for wanting to drown out the traumatic events of the night. “Well I wish I could catch a drink with you but there is still a lot to do. “

"There's more? I thought it was over. "

Sam shakes his head with a weary sigh.

"I wish it was that simple. There's still a lot of work to be done. We have to figure out who summoned this thing in the first place. It wasn't just a random occurrence. Someone wanted that thing on earth, and we need to find out why. "

"I don't suppose you'll be needing my help then. " you smile sadly.

Sam frowns at your assumption. He can't help but feel a pang of disappointment at the thought of you not being involved anymore.

"Well then Sammy, you know where to find me should you find yourself needing any assistanc. " you pulled him in for a kiss.

Sam is taken by surprise at your bold gesture, but he doesn't resist, letting himself be pulled in, his hand coming up to cup your face gently as your lips meet his. For a moment, all the chaos and danger of the world fade away.

"See you around. " you walk out the door leaving Sam staring.

Sam watches you walk out the door, his lips still tingling from the unexpected kiss. "Yeah, see you, sweetheart," he whispered, his voice laced with a hint of wistfulness.

~~~

spotify links -

soft boy dean

the winchesters

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yvieluvs · 7 months ago

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a walking study, in demonology

#music #hole #hole band #courtney love #melissa auf der maur #eric erlandson #patty schemel #celebrity skin #90s #90s music #rock #grunge #alt

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misasimagines · 2 months ago

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ok sorry I'm studying Ren in a lab again. random thoughts

- he has asymmetrical earrings, one stud on one ear and two in the other. curious decision. but I do adore it.

- I love how he looks like he's trying to pose in a "I'm not posing, this is natural" way in his "melancholic misfit" card and in his sr uniform card and his casual outfit r card because it just makes me think he does care a lot about how he looks and how he's perceived. I just think he's the kind of person who spends a decent amount of thought and time to put together and outfit that looks like he's NOT trying but also doesn't make him look slobby. He spends time making his hair the Right amount of "I didn't do anything to it" but he did. For sure. so I also think he smells nice and fights really hard against smelling like the diner or any of the animals in Jabberwock. he puts effort in. He just won't let it be obvious. But I Know.

- I think he's one of the taller (not tallest but not mid or shortest) ones canonically? and I'm personally a believer in him just being bigger than he wants to even acknowledge. Like he doesn't want to take up space or be the guy who someone looks at when they're like "I need a strong man to help me carry these chairs!" Bc he doesn't want to help, but everyone probably was like. 👀 You will help, right? You can carry it right? case in point, carrying Haru in the Jabberwock chapters and being like whatever I'm not that strong, it's just easy when you do it like this. Okay. But also how did you know that? Also no, no it's not that easy to just fireman carry someone AND a little octopus AND a little bunny monster. I know you're a ghoul but christ. And he complains that Haru makes him lug around heavy things around Jabberwock. I'm only stating facts here.

- okay now I've pulled out the demonology research below

(source)

I'm crazy and I researched the demon that his stigma is likely unscrambled out to be. Of course take this all with a grain of salt because although I screenshot these from book excepts available through Google scholar, well... It's demonology and hermeticism and occultism and I'm not here to debate their credibility.

Anyway. Not much that explains explicitly what Ren's stigma would be, but our tsundere lazy gamer bf being contracted to a demon who ENCOURAGES sloth? Yeah that tracks.

also (source)

HMM? She who walks in the sea (recall Astaroth is the evolution of a female goddess Astarte/Ishtar/etc) and our gamer bf hates the water? Hmm.

(source)

this just was funny to me. he's built but he looks kinda fucked up.

(source)

and again, the commonality here is that 1) Astaroth stinky and 2) has some kind of knowledge of the past, present, and future/can divine these things at will. So? Why is his stigma related to cleaning/making the mess disappear? Could it have to do something with this control over the past/present/future? Can he change when something is occurring/has occurred? I have no clue, especially when, when it comes to ghouls who have some kind of idea about the Timeline, signs point to Taiga being the one to have that knowledge. If you look up Balam in the same books, well...

There is considerable overlap. So.... I don't know what to come away from this with lmao

I hesitate to make any theories based on the evolution from a fertility goddess because it's a reach and I have little to no expectation that it will be a point in his lore in game, but the information is there for you to do with what you will.

There's not that much like juicy information I could find in my short search that wasn't pay-walled or of dubious authenticity (reddit, blog post from 2003, etc). I could probably spend the time and find more, but alas, I don't have that college access to databases anymore </3 Please let me know if you come to any theories from this though!!

#tokyo debunker #tdb #ren tdb #im running up to people in the street grabbing them and screaming im a jiro girl. a jiro girl i swear please believe me. please please #if anyone at fault here it's ren shiranami. im killing him.

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simkjrs · 2 months ago

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just finished reading @i-just-want-to-destroy's a walking study in demonology. masterful. beautiful. funny and moving all at once. a love letter to stories and people who love stories and so much more. should be enshrined in an internet/multimedia specific stories archive forever. may just get me to revisit and finish my old fics. everyone read this now

#txt #fic rec

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brykp · 4 months ago

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THEORY: Lucifer Morningstar in Hazbin Hotel... Might Actually Be a Star

I was thinking of what Sera said to Charlie when she was first welcomed into Heaven... "Greetings, Daughter of the Morningstar"... or, did she enunciate morning-star? This is a real thing in the world that exists for us people on earth, in fact you can walk outside and see it very early every morning --- it is the last star shining in the sky. Tangent oncoming, but it gets back to the main point ----- Lucifer means "light-bearer", or, "light-bringer", because it calls forth the rising sun. In symbology, this has been interpreted as a man holding a torch. In Hazbin Hotel, we not only see Lucifer literally can produce fire from his hand, but this has been passed down to his daughter as well. They're light-bearers --- literally. Also, that is precisely what stars do... they produce light! Now let me advance to next bulletpoint of this post... Vivienne Medrano ALREADY used a "living" object, that can terraform into a more active form, in this web show. And that is none other than Kiki, the literal key to the hotel. She turns into a cat-semblant body.

On the same note, Vivienne Medrano is no stranger to humanoids or beings naturally being another thing. This was a primary feature of her extinct webcomic, Zoophobia, where every animal naturally has a humanesque form they can convert to whenever necessary. For example, Jackie is a great macaw (this isn't the parrot's true appearance, this is a format she takes alternatively):

Now, I know Lucifer is snake-coded, but I couldn't help but acknowledge how well-versed Vivienne Medrano seems to be in demonology and religion, to an extent, based on some videos from YouTuber cartoon analysis channels. And (I'm going to repeat, excuse my drawling), it is a common fact that the morning star.... in the sky... can be seen every morning. Hence, Sera uttered; "Greetings, daughter of the morning star". So, here's the next bulletpoint --- the acknowledgment of celestial bodies as sources of worship (astrology) is a key point in this universe. Stolas, a major character in the same world, studies and is a sort of regulator of the celestial bodies.

That's his whole schtick. Plus, he is royalty in Hell, so astrology is probably a no-shit presence of fact among the general population in Hell. On the the next bulletpoint: YouTube theorists and fans of both these web shows in general have expressed how they think Hazbin Hotel + Helluva Boss take place somewhere in 'outer space'. From the Pride Ring alone, we can see other celestial bodies IN the sky, like Heaven and a weird moon with a copy of Pride Ring's Pentagram on it. While I don't think the Hellaverse is in outer space exactly, I really think it's code for 'the heavenly realms'. Now on to the next and probably most important fact... now, what might the Pride Ring be? What does its parameter resemble? (Btw, follow this person on Tumblr and X, they are a great Lucy fan artist):

Not to mention the pentagram (which is also, coincidentally, and non-coincidentally a star-shape) floating right above it. What is a meteorite? A falling star. !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! What is my final say on this? I might say Lucifer is... well, a fallen star. He may or may not be a literal star in the show, but this is a huge probability in the Hellaverse considering it IS Vivienne Medrano's brainchild. This is my headcannon now... that because these are the heavenly realms, the most powerful beings/ characters can and do exist likely in alternate/ first forms in the same existential plane. Charlie is half human and half angel... or further, half star. Also, this means Lilith fucked a star. (And Eve too, oop.)

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fandom #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #hellaverse #vivziepop #vivienne medrano #helluva #hellava boss #fan theories #hazbin hotel theory #lucifer morningstar #lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel

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johnwickb1tsch · 7 months ago

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The Girl Next Door - Chapter 3

A Constantine x FemVampire!Reader fic based on this imagine. all chapters warnings: nsfw, blood, biting, brief mention date rape, domestic violence, not reader oh make me over, i'm all i wanna be, a walking study, in demonology - celebrity skin, hole

3. for the life of the flesh is in the blood

It is both a relief and a disappointment, that you find your first experience of feeding on John Constantine was quite singular. No one since has inspired the same brand of heady lust when you break a vein. You think about him often, but you've done your best to give the demon hunter a wide berth. You're sure the last thing he wants is some needy little leech following him around, begging for his attention.

You're sure he only saved you out of pity, anyway.

It still hurts, so you try not to think about it anymore.

You have taken to hunting your meals amongst the evil doers of the city—of which there is no shortage, in the City of Angels. Your favorite method has become playing the party-going damsel in a bar not watching her drink. When the inevitable asshole drops a dose of something in it, a thing you have found does not affect you at all, you play drowsy and accompany him to the inevitable alley or sometimes even his car, where you pounce.

You can't say you feel too terrible about removing such trash from the population. You're not sure how God feels about your methods, but then you're not sure it matters any way. It helps pay your rent too. Holding down a job as a vampire kind of went out the window, so you help yourself to whatever cash you find in your criminals' wallets with little remorse.

The fact of the matter is, as time goes on...you don't exactly hate being a vampire. It took some adjustment, sure, but you have power you'd only dreamed of as a human woman. You can go anywhere you want now without fear. You are fast. You are strong. You haven't figured out flying yet, but even that seems like it might be possible down the line.

Maybe you could ask a fellow vampire about what is and isn't possible, but you have yet to actually meet one.

You've sensed them around the streets of LA—but in the end you always chicken out and flee the scene. The vampires who made you were not exactly shining examples. You're not in a hurry to fall in with their ilk. You'd observed there was a definite pecking order in the coven that took you, and you're not exactly eager to become some asshole's toady again, a little cog in some evil plot or another. You’d played that game in corporate America in your old life, and you're not going back to it.

One evening when you are heading out for the night you run into John in the hallway again.

You are astounded when he is first to greet you. "Y/n."

"Hi, John." You can't help but feel the contrast to the way you used to play this game. You feel the loss of innocence, of your humanity, so keenly when you see him. You'd be a liar if you said the sight of his stupid, handsome face didn't still move you. The loss of what might have been...hurts, like a half-healed wound with a finger in it. You haven't been avoiding him, per se...but seeing him still ties you up in knots in a way you don't necessarily like.

"You look...nice." You glance down at your dark low-cut dress and leather jacket. Bar bait chic. It's quite a shift, from the sweet floral sundresses and bright colors you once favored.

"I was just popping out for a bite to eat."

"Yeah?" He is looking at you with an intensity that makes you squirm a little inside. A look that a vampire does not like, on the receiving end from a demon hunter. "How's that...going for you?"

"Fine."

He looks around the hallway for potential eavesdroppers. You already know it's vacant. Your hearing was excellent on the night you were Born to Darkness, and it's only improved from there.

"Fine?"

You cross your arms with a look of what the fuck else do you expect me to say out here?

Constantine makes an annoyed sound that's almost a growl.

You shouldn't find it as endearing as you still do.

“Come talk to me a minute?” he invites, nodding towards his apartment.

Remembering all the crosses and weapons he has stashed in there, you're not too keen to go, in case he's decided letting you live your undead life was an oversight.

You wrinkle your nose like you’ve smelled something bad. "You can come talk to me in here," you counter, nodding towards your own space.

He smirks at you, as though he knows very well the cause for your caution. “Sure,” he agrees, cocky as ever. John Constantine isn’t afraid to walk unarmed into the lair of a baby vamp like you.

You unlock your door again, ushering him in with a wave. As he steps inside you are struck again by how big he is in your tiny apartment. A wave of nostalgia hits you, for a night when you'd still been human, and he'd made you feel like you were the most desirable woman in the world.

Suddenly, your throat is tight.

Wow. Who knew you could still feel these things as a creature of the night? You’ve been so focused on your day to day, or night to night, as it were. You never really allowed yourself to process everything that had happened. You were too busy figuring out how the fuck to survive.

"Do you...want something to drink?" you ask, looking in your pantry. “Or perhaps can I interest you in some whole kernel corn?” Your perishable options have long gone by the wayside, but you still have alcohol, canned goods, and dry cereal. All together, not the most appetizing combination.

A snort of laughter escapes him at your attempt at humor, and he seats himself in one of your surviving kitchen chairs like he owns the place. "Sure. To the drink. Hold the vegetables."

You produce a bottle of Scotch that you may have bought with him in mind after your little tryst, and pour him a couple fingers.

"What about you?" he asks with a glitter of something in those obsidian dark eyes. Even with all your vampire senses, this man is still hard to read as a brick wall.

You cant your head to look at him, curious what he’s about. That is when you realize... you smell desire. You hear the spike of his heartbeat, see the dilation of his pupils almost lost in the black of his irises.

His only outward tell is the corner of his mouth curled up, but blood never lies.

You yourself would be a liar if you said you hadn't thought about the way he'd tasted that first night with a sharp longing.

The sound of his pulse hammering in your ears makes you bold enough to ask, "Why, are you offering, John?"

He lifts one eyebrow nonchalantly, though the sound of his racing heart is sweet sweet music to your ears.

"Maybe."

Cautious as a cat, you dare approach, a finger sliding along the surface of the table as you regard him curiously. Cool as ever, he leans back in his chair, man-spreading as he looks up at you. You stand between his legs, looking down at him with a new confidence, armed with the knowledge of his blood rushing double-time through his veins.

He certainly hadn’t sought you out before this. Not once in the past few months has he even tried to check on you. At least, as far as you know.

He tilts his head up, returning your gaze. It’s impressive, really, how little he manages to show on the outside, while you can sense the rising roil of something brewing within him. Lust, you tell yourself. Anything more…would be wishful thinking, on your part.

You really should know better by now, but you still can’t help but carry a torch for this man, stupid little vampire that you are.

“A little warning: I’ve heard some hot shot High Table vampire hunter is in town from New York. You should be careful where you go to hunt.”

Your own heart thumps in your chest. Just the once. You don’t have a regular heartbeat anymore, unless you’ve just fed on someone.

“You worried about me, John?”

“As far as I've heard, you're keeping your nose clean, but I thought you should know."

So he has been keeping track of you.

"I’m not exactly feasting on the blood of newborn babes."

He winces a little at that, as though you have invoked some long-buried memory. You suppose you cannot fathom the horrors this man has seen in his time battling the Darkness.

"Who are you feasting on?"

"Mostly assholes who deserve a lot worse than what I give them."

It's his turn to tilt his head as he looks up at you, his eyes sharp as a hawk’s. "What does that mean?"

"Do you really want to know?" you ask, propping a hand on your hip. What you really want to do is insinuate yourself into this man’s lap, but some sense of self-preservation holds you back.

"It's why I asked."

"Ok.” You start to tick your recent exploits off on your fingers. “I saved a girl from getting mugged and maybe worse the other day while she was walking to her car at night. Before that, I snacked on a date raper who tried to drug my drink. Before that, I broke up a domestic dispute and made the piece of shit husband disappear. Before that—"

Both of John’s dark eyebrows shoot up.

"Ok, Miss Vigilante Vamp. I get the picture." There's a gleam in his eye, and you almost think he might be proud of you? Or at least, amused. You should not care, of course, but his approval definitely tickles some long-buried little pleasure center in your brain. You always were a teacher’s pet type, for better or for worse. "You should be careful though. You could get hurt."

"By who?” you counter, knowing you sound cocky as hell. “This vampire hunter?”

“I think you missed the part where I said he’s High Table?”

“What does that mean?”

He gives you a look like you should know that, but you don’t know how or why you would.

“It means you don’t want to mess with him. I heard he’s here for the Master, but you don’t want to attract his attention.”

“The Master?” You are so confused.

Seemingly exasperated, he lifts his eyebrow at you. It kind of starts to piss you off. “I don’t know any other vampires, John.” And he certainly made no efforts before now to fill you in.

“Look, just be careful, ok? Just because you’re a vampire now doesn’t mean you’re invincible.”

It’s almost touching, that he’s worried about you. It would be, at least, if it didn’t sound so fucking much like mansplaining.

“A girl’s gotta eat, John.”

“Well…you coulda asked.”

You narrow your eyes down at him, knowing they flash a molten orange with your annoyance. The thing he said when you’d first woken as a vampire echoes in your mind, the way it has every night since. I guess they thought you meant something to me.

“I didn’t think you’d be interested.”

“I told you I’d help you. You kinda disappeared on me after that.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Thinking some distance might be a good thing after all, you turn to go, just to have his long fingers wrap around your wrist. “Wait—”

You try to pull away, and he doesn’t let go, so you jerk him out of the chair like he’s a ragdoll. You find yourself in a pile on the floor with John Constantine’s solid weight half on top of you—not a horrible arrangement, truth be told, but the context is less than ideal.

“Jesus. Easy there, tiger.”

The fact that this man has the gall to needle you, after everything that has happened, suddenly fills you with white-hot heat, like gasoline on a fire. You’ve been bottling it up for months, just shoving it down so you can do what you have to do, but now everything bubbles to the surface with a vengeance. Suddenly, you are sitting on him, a clawed finger pointing into his chest. “You asshole. I got turned into this thing that I am because of you, because I was stupid enough to care about you, but I was supposed to be the one knocking on your door for a handout? I bet you would have just loved it, if I came crawling back to you for another taste.”

It’s just so fucking unfair.

That you can still feel so much for this man, and maybe he desires you back, but outside of that there’s just nothing. You’re sure of it. It shouldn’t matter to you anymore but it does and it hurts. Jesus fucking Christ it hurts.

You feel too much.

You’ve always felt too much, as a human, and now as a monster, apparently, and it sucks. You feel the sting of tears filling your eyes, and you know they look like blood to him and it’s just so gross you could scream.

“Tell me how to do it,” you hiss through the aching lump in your throat. “How do I feel nothing like you, because I’m so tired of this.”

Constantine’s frown is utterly thunderous below you. You guess it’s a real buzz kill, when people—monsters—emote all over you. He says nothing, just glares back up at you, breathing heavily through his nose.

Only later will it occur to you what a miracle it was, that he didn’t go for his cross, or a holy gun, or gold knuckles, with a spitting mad vampire perched on top of him. He really does have nerves of steel.

Only when you notice a small dot of blood blooming on his white shirt beneath your razor-sharp fingernail you let up, clenching your clawed fists at your sides.

“Sorry,” you half-snarl, closing your eyes against everything. But now the scent of blood is in the air. His blood, and it is just as intoxicating as you remember from before, and a powerful, prickling heat rises within you, spreading out to him too. Every hair on his body lifts, and you wonder if he reacts to you this way because of his psychic abilities, or if…it’s just the chemistry between you. Some of the tension in his frame softens—other parts of him decidedly do not.

“My life is dangerous, y/n. What happened to you is exactly the reason I don’t have many friends.”

Or lovers, hangs unsaid in the air.

“Yeah. Well…too late for me, I guess. What’s the worst that can happen now?”

“You never want to challenge God like that. Believe me.”

“Why do you sound so certain it’s God who makes bad things happen?”

He snorts derisively. “Because as far as I can tell, he’s an even bigger asshole than I am.”

You look away, feeling guilty all of a sudden. “I’m sorry I called you that.”

Surprisingly he turns your gaze back to him with a finger on your chin. “It’s ok. The shoe fits.”

You get the sense that this is his way of apologizing…maybe, and the last of your anger leaks from your body. You nod, and close your eyes, and one of those bloody tears escapes to make its way down the curve of your cheek. No one is more surprised than you, when he reaches up to wipe it away.

“For what it’s worth…you’re not bad, for a vampire.” Coming from him, that’s quite the declaration. Again, you’re not proud of what it does to you, to receive praise from this man who usually keeps so aloof.

You dare to open your eyes, your vision sharpening upon him, your vampire senses keen to detect a lie. You can tell he’s a little excited beneath his cool façade, but it doesn’t feel like he’s lying to you. That has a certain smell. A pheromone maybe, or a stink of fear of getting caught.

“Yeah?”

He sits up, so that you are cradled on his lap, nearly nose to nose, and you can’t help but be painfully aware, groin to groin. He’s so tall, and broad, and you still want to climb him like a tree. Another wave of that titillating energy rises in you, a mix of hunger and desire. You know he feels it too. You can tell by the way his eyelids half-close, his grip tightening momentarily on your thighs.

It’s not a horrible development, truth be told.

“Yeah.”

“Even though I scare you?”

“Let’s go with…yes and no, on that,” he answers with a quirk of the side of his mouth.

“Hmm. You know, it’s hard to lie to a vampire?”

“Can’t say I usually spend much time conversing.” He cups your cheek, his fingers sliding into your hair—and you’re not sure you really want to converse anymore either. “I was giving you space—guess I should have kicked down your door.”

“You could have just…knocked,” you tell him with narrowed eyes, smiling in spite of yourself. You feel your teeth pressing into your lips—and you shut your mouth again.

“I know they’re there,” he teases you, surprisingly gently, his thumb tracing the curve of your lower lip. “You don’t have to hide them.”

You close your eyes again, sighing. “I just…feel like such a monster.”

Again his long fingers slide through your hair, like he’s petting you. It does things to you, to be stroked like a favored pet by this man.

“You’re not a monster.” You clench your fists, so moved to hear him say it. And as you do, you can feel your claws biting into your palms. You lift your hands so he can see them.

“No?”

He examines them, seemingly nonplussed. You guess he’s seen bigger and sharper. “No,” he asserts again.

Your eyes flick down to the little bloodstain upon his nice white shirt. “I made you bleed.”

“I probably deserved it,” he excuses with that smirk that pulls at your undead heartstrings. “Keep going like you are, you might get to Heaven before I do.”

“John…” you sigh, a wave of emotion sweeping through you that you can’t even name. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

“Me? Nice?” Again, that barely discernible purse of lips, the suppression of a smile that would give him away.

You find yourself staring at his mouth, before forcing your eyes up to meet his once again. You don’t do it on purpose, but the power of your hunger fills you like a cup, spilling over into him where your bodies touch. This time he gives in to that tingling wave of treacherous pleasure, closing his eyes and letting it wash over him without a fight. Longing throbs in your loins, and hunger in your belly. They really feel one and the same, in this man’s arms.

“You’re…getting good at that,” he tells you, his voice low and gravely with desire.

“It just…happens, with you,” you’re almost reluctant to admit.

He smirks, the way you just knew he would, the smug bastard. “Just with me, huh?”

You roll your eyes to the ceiling. This man.

His low chuckle should not inspire such a thrill inside you. His strong arm looped around your waist, pulling you harder against him, does not help either.

Your claws have retracted again, and you run your hand up the flat of his chest, fingering the starched collar of his white shirt. You are gratified to receive a shuddering sigh as your touch moves higher, caressing the jumping pulse in his neck longingly.

“Bar’s open,” he offers.

It’s your turn to sigh, and you go about undoing his tie, carefully loosening the knot, resisting the urge to tear it off of him. You’ve learned a little bit more about how to control your hunger now, but it’s all still so new. You wonder if you can use it to make this, whatever this is, last longer than the frenzied chaotic rush it was last time.

“Did you miss me, John?”

He doesn’t answer you, just makes a sound low in his throat and leans in to kiss you instead, and with his soft mouth on yours you are content to let it go for now.

Maybe if you read between the lines, it’s answer enough anyway.

It’s a little funny, that the two of you never really make it up off the floor. Wrapped up in the wonderful, heady power that is your hunger, amplified by mutual desire, you are content to shed clothing and trade appreciative caresses there on the rug. You had not forgotten how beautiful this man is, the feeling of his warm muscled flesh beneath your questing hands, and yet still it somehow surprises you.

He makes a face as he pushes your jacket from your shoulders, tossing it unnecessarily far across the room. “You don’t like it?” you tease breathily.

“It doesn’t suit you,” he admits, and goes for your dress next, pulling it up over your head. He stares down at the skin he bared, your lacy push-up bra. He’s kinder to the dress, but maybe just because he’s distracted, ducking to kiss the soft mounds of your breasts.

The glitter in his dark eyes as you extricate his belt from between your pressed bodies should be illegal, it’s so intoxicating. With a hand on his bare chest you press him down to lay back on the floor. He does not fight you, looking up at you with that signature smirk that makes your blood boil. Rolling your hips against his straining erection between you wipes some of the smug off his expression, replacing it with a raw need.

With careful fingers you unbutton his pants and extricate him into the palm of your hand, his velvety length almost searing hot against your cool grip. Your undead body hungers for the warmth of his life, absorbing it anywhere you touch. His nerve falters a little, as he watches your fanged mouth descend towards his swollen manhood, his eyes widening just a bit. It’s your turn to smirk up at him.

“I haven’t tried this yet, John. I’d be very still, if I were you.”

He doesn’t tell you to stop, and the sound he makes as you descend on his hard cock with your silken tongue isn’t pain. In fact, it’s extremely gratifying. You are careful, and as you work him up and down with your mouth he trembles with the effort not to move beneath you. When his fingers tangle in your hair you moan against him, winning a twitch of his hips that would have made you smile, had your mouth not been so very full. You withdraw with a pop that makes him growl with pleasure beneath you. “Fuck, y/n...”

He tries to sit up to reach for you, but you pin him down again with one hand, tilting your head with a playful look down on him. The heated frustration in his narrowed eyes is rather priceless. Maybe you’ll pay for this later, but the predator’s instinct in you is enjoying this immensely.

Too impatient to take them off, you pull your panties to the side to sink onto his beautiful cock, his thick head pushing past your entrance rocking your head back with ecstasy. “John…” you sigh, moving your hips up and down, until he’s seated fully inside you, bottoming out against your cervix. It doesn’t hurt, like it once did. You are learning all kinds of things about your new vampire body.

“I would have returned the favor,” he rasps, his head rocking back hard into the floor as you carefully squeeze him inside you, conscientious of your new strength. It wins you a gratifying moan, his eyes drifting closed.

“Next time,” you answer cheekily. If he can’t admit that he missed you—then you’ll be damned if you say it first, even if it is the truth.

You look down, fascinated by the sight of his big hands on your thighs, his strong fingers pressing into your flesh. The whip-cord muscles of his forearms draws your eyes, to the curve of his bicep and the sweep of his collarbone—your attention fixes on the jumping vein in his neck like a laser.

You lean down to lick his pulse and he tilts his head, baring his neck for you. You know that part of it is him riding the power that crackles between you, but another part–it feels like a gesture of trust, and somehow that warms your undead heart. The razor-sharp tips of your fangs brush his pulse, winning you a sigh. “Do it,” he moans, surging inside you, lifting you with his hips. It’s all too much to resist, and with trembling caution you slide your fingers into his hair, and press your teeth into his pale skin.

The resulting rush of blood filing your mouth is intoxicating–by the sounds he makes, not just for you. The rush of pleasure across your tongue and in your loins is like nothing you’ve ever felt before, an exhilarating bliss that spreads warmth through every nerve across your skin.

You’ve always thought of lovemaking as some kind of small miracle–a gift the laughing gods bestowed upon you poor mortals to make all the drudgery of life somehow bearable. A scientist might argue it is a trick of hormones and synapses played by nature, to encourage the endless march of procreation. You wonder what Constantine thinks about it, this man who so clearly believes in The Almighty God, but also seems to find the deity an insufferable asshat.

A less than charitable philosopher might argue this beguiling euphoria is just the lure a vampire could use to secure a good meal–but like this, with this man–you cannot help but think it’s more. Whatever ancient magic that animates you, and maybe his own powers mingled too, it grants you this boon in what could be a life of infinite nights of lonely darkness, this undeniable connection with a special human whose lifeblood nourishes you.

You are not even sure what to call the pinnacle of this pure shining ecstasy you share–orgasm seems too paltry a word. Pleasure, pale by comparison. John insists you are no creature of God, but you cannot help but reason that what you share together is nothing less than divine rapture.

The challenge is when to stop.

For as long as you pull draught after draught of his delectable hot blood into your mouth, this bliss goes on and on.

He starts to fade beneath you, his heart slowing. You could drain him dry like this, and maybe not care until the moment you realized he was dead in your arms. This is the thing that throws you back from your latchpoint upon his neck, woozy from the delight of it all, yet scared that you may have hurt him.

He too seems drunk beneath you, looking up at you through hooded dark eyes. “Why’d you stop?” he asks dreamily. It’s the most vulnerable you’ve ever seen this man. You touch his cheek; you are not sure if the coolness of his skin is due to blood loss, or the fact that you feel almost feverish at the moment, riding the high of the blood magic you invoked with him.

If you hurt him you are walking out into the sunlight, you promise yourself with panic.

“I’m afraid I took too much,” you admit, wide-eyed.

Of course, he scoffs at the very idea. “I’m fine. C’mere.” He pulls you down on top of him, to snuggle, you presume. The wonders of this evening do not cease. It is lovely, to curl up in his arms, your thighs slick with the excess of his seed. But as he dozes, you are wide awake, the world come even more alive around you. A potent meal, the magician makes. You feel as though you can sense the whole city in your head. The comings and goings of all the people, and all the creatures, and the planes and trains and cars.

What a marvel, is this modern age.

You sift through them all as an amusement, catching snatches of thoughts and bits of conversations, eavesdropping on their lives.

You realize that you have never been able to read John Constantine’s thoughts. You wonder if it’s because of his psychic abilities–or just a result of his abnormally hard head.

As you make this little psychic tour around the inhabitants of L.A.--something senses you back. You feel it push against your mind, holding you at arm’s length. Something old, and seething. For a flash you see it–him. Definitely a him, tall and forbiddingly handsome, bearded and raven haired. His eyes flash molten orange–right before he strikes you. It is only a psychic blow but you feel it like a fist between the eyes. It makes your physical body jolt in John’s arms. This stirs him from his bliss-induced coma; the demon-hunting magician blinks and looks up at you, taking in your wild-eyed look, your fangs bared to some invisible threat.

“You ok, baby vamp?” he grumbles, not too happy to be disturbed from his deep rest.

“Fine,” you answer, unsure if it’s true. “I think I need to get you something to eat.”

“Not hungry,” he grouses, closing his eyes again. “Tired.”

“Would you like to lay down in the actual bed?” you ask, thinking he will regret this hard pallet tomorrow.

“No.” Now you can tell he’s just being stubborn. You would like to stay and cuddle with him, but you really are afraid he needs to eat and drink. Fluids and iron rich foods, is what you googled for after-care of donating blood, a while ago.

Funny, until now, you hadn’t had occasion to use the knowledge.

You dress and pop out to the 24 hour market, obtaining red meat and dark leafy vegetables. When you return John has reclaimed his boxers and stretched his long body out on the couch, his big feet hanging off the end. It’s ridiculously endearing, to see him so relaxed in your space like this.

When you are nearly done preparing his stir fry dinner, he finally rises to a sitting position, scrubbing at his face with his hands.

It’s silly, how much it pleases you, when he wraps his arms around you from behind at the stove, his chin resting on your head. “A vampire who cooks. This is one for the record books.”

“It’s not like I’ve forgotten how,” you fire back over your shoulder, amused. “It just…doesn’t really smell like food to me anymore.” The bloody bits of raw steak had seemed more appetizing than the ingredients in their current form.

“Hmm. Smells good to me.” You thought he’d come round to food. “This does too though,” he teases, kissing your neck with a playfulness that leaves you dumbfounded. When he nibbles you can’t help but squirm, laughing out loud.

“John!”

He must still be power drunk from earlier. He’d barely touched his glass of Scotch.

You feel his body shake with mirth behind you, more than hear it out loud. Then he stills against you, resting his chin on you again while you stir the meat and vegetables, the rice steaming on the back burner. You know it won’t last past tonight, but the scene is so damn near domestic it makes your heart ache.

“What did I feel, earlier?” he asks. “Like, a gust of air in here. Did I dream it?”

You honestly aren’t sure how to answer that. It’s not that he wouldn’t believe you. You just…don’t have the language–and you don’t want to worry him.

“I don’t know, I was half asleep,” you say, so smooth in your white lie, craning your neck back for a kiss. “Sit down. It’s your turn to eat.”

As you bring John his plate of food your attention is drawn to the window, by what you’re not really sure. Nothing is there, you see nothing, you feel nothing present–and yet…you cannot shake the sensation that you are being watched.

Almost as though to assure yourself, you reach out to brush an unruly dark lock of John’s hair behind his ear. He looks up at you with a lazy, almost boyish smile. It squeezes your heart. “Thanks.” You’re pretty sure he means for the food, but maybe…the rest too.

You smile, and you know it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. He seems to sense something is up, but maybe he doesn’t want to wreck the moment yet either. He catches your hand, kissing the back of it, before picking up his fork and tucking in.

Again, you look to the window, and the mean city beyond it, and wonder how many malevolent things out there could mean the two of you ill. You don’t think you have too many enemies of your own yet–but in John’s case?

The number could be infinite.

#john constantine x reader #john constantine x you #constantine #constantine 2005 #constantine vampire fic #keanuverse #keanuverse fic #keanu reeves #keanu reeves x reader #this chapter took fucking foreeeeever #i hope i finally got the feel right

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darkened-writer · 1 year ago

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imagine| On The Nature Of Daylight

This is a part two to 'Star', since I feel like it deserved a happy ending, despite the bittersweetness of the first part. I honestly could expand this into a series if I want to, so let me know what you all think! Enjoy!

PAIRING || Astarion x Tav (Reader)

WORD COUNT || 1,090

Daylight always felt so odd, because even in a big city, the night was always more comforting. Especially for those who could never truly sleep well. ‘Insomniacs’.

The times that Tav did sleep, they’d see glimpses of stark white locks, red speckled irises, and a cheeky grin. All unfamiliar to see in a society where the only white hair you would see is on older people and people with odd hair dying choices. And, red eyes? It’d be associated with Albinism. The dots could never really connect on who this person plaguing their dream were.

Every night.

Every nap.

Every single time.

Doctors prescribed meds for PTSD, Insomnia, but nothing ever worked.

So, Their nights were filled with mindless activities and scrolling their phone, as most people do.

Wondering who exactly this man could be.

And, why his skin felt so natural against theirs.

The sun peeked just out of the curtain of their room, only slightly illuminating the space that was covered with various papers that had sketches scrawled across them, some with eyes, some with swirls to resemble curls, and mouths, shaped into smirks, two sharp teeth peeking out from under them. So beautiful yet out of reach, even so slightly.

The bed felt so empty.

But, at least there was the library.

It was a small job, paid decently well, gave Tav access to all types of books, ranging from non-fiction to fantasy to even greek tellings and local legends.

Though, fantasy was always one that piqued their interest.

Busy streets, walking with a blazer wrapped around their figure, a coffee in their hands, messenger bag in the other.

Eventually, the quietness of the library surrounded them, a few people sat at table reading books or typing away at computers. A few stood inbetween shelves, examining every aspect of the books they hold from the front to the spine.

Wyll, he was the head of the library, was clocking out and waved with a smile, glasses pushing up towards his nose as he walks away, carrying a stack of books. He was the nicest coworker you could ever have, always leaving a tupperware full of baked goods. Assortments of cookies, cupcakes, mini pies, all very sweet. Though, his hobbies outside of work were always involving sword fighting and fencing.

Cookies, this time around.

Red velvet.

The red looked practically bloody.

There was a ding, and Tav looked up, a red-haired woman holding a few books.

Demonology?

“Will these be all?”

“Yes…”

“Demonology, huh?”

She was quiet, opting to hug herself as she waited for the books to be checked out, hand rubbing against the muscle under her leather jacket.

Tav slides the books across the counter.

“Hope these help your studies!”

“Thank you.”

She walks away, Tav now opening the tupperware to grab a cookie, taking a large bite and humming a bit at the taste of the white chocolate chips.

Always so good.

“Hello? Earth to Librarian?”

Her hair was stark white, next to her snowy complexion, a silver necklace adorning her neck as she waved a petite hand in from of their face.

“Oh… sorry.”

The girl handed the books over, watching closely as Tav scanned them.

“You ever dabble in witchcraft?”

Tav perks up.

“Uh. No. But, it does seem interesting.”

“You should check these out once I’m done with them. Spells of protection are major within witchcraft, you know?”

She takes the books, grinning.

“Have a good one, Librarian.”

Sauntered off, leaving Tav to contemplate why no one ever read their nametag.

But, there was no time for that, there were books to put away.

So, they grabbed a cart, stacking returned books onto it before pushing it to certain aisles, sliding books in their rightful places, humming a small tune that's been stuck in their head. Eventually, the fantasy section comes up, a lot of empty slots to fill as they stop and begin to put boots in, until someone snatches up the book they just put in.

Red-Speckled eyes.

A devilish grin.

White locks.

“Oh, hello…”

His voice was smooth, an accent buried underneath it all.

“Hi.”

“Apologies for snatching this book from you, Love. You see… I’m very fascinated by fictional works, especially fantasy and this work, from Ms. Tyler, well, it’s an excellent work.”

He shows the cover of the book, which had a piece of art that depicted a small group of people.

“It’s okay, uh… we are getting a shipment soon of the next part after that one. The conclusion. If you’d like, I can have a reminder sent to you for it?”

His grin widens.

“That’d be perfect, Darling, Thank you.”

He peers down.

“Tav.”

“That’s me.”

“My name is Aster, but you can call me Astarion.”

Tav smiles a bit.

“You seem vaguely familiar, have we met before?”

“I believe we haven’t but, we can get to know each other?”

He was charming, his eyes looking directly into Tav’s with a familiar intensity.

“Sure. But, check out the book first?”

He nods, smiling as Tav walks away with the cart, mind swirling with thoughts.

Exactly like the dreams.

They looked just like the person in his dreams.

And, he had to know more.

“Just this book?”

He had just set the one book onto the counter, eyes more trained on Tav then anywhere else.

But, the sun through the window was hitting him just right, the red of his eyes more bright in the unexpected light, giving a odd sense of comfort. He was all too known in Tav’s mind, the resemblance uncanny of the man in their dreams. His touch could practically be felt still, his hands brushing the hair out of their face.

“Yes. And, red velvet? Good choice.”

A grin sprouts on Tav’s face.

“My coworker made them for me, they're good. Want one?”

“Sure.”

Their hands graze as Tav hands him a cookie, scanning the book and handing it over to him again as he grabs it, other hand holding the cookie as he take a bite, nodding to himself.

“Quite good.”

“I know right?”

A beat of silence.

“I’m sorry if its weird but, I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve met you..”

“I feel the same way.”

Both perk up.

“Would you want to maybe… go get coffee or something? I know a place down main street, ran by this really nice guy, Halsin.”

“I’d love to, my dear.”

Both just look at eachother, a knowing look, red eyes looking into theirs.

“See you soon?”

“See you soon.”

#xreader #fanfiction #astarion #astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #fluff #soulmates #found love

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megmoon1111 · 1 year ago

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Oh, make me over I'm all I wanna be A walking study In demonology

#celebrity skin #hole #music recs #courtney love #Spotify

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only-on-ao3 · 2 months ago

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walking study in demonology by ijustwanttodestroy

#submitted by raska-tmg #thank you for submitting! <3 #onlyonao3 #ao3 #ao3 quotes #fics #fic quotes #fanfiction #fanfiction quotes #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #hitoshi shinsou #izuku midoriya #bnha

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heartz4shauna · 2 months ago

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a walking study

in demonology ⊹ ࣪ ˖

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book-keep · 17 days ago

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Walking Study in Demonology

By ijustwanttodestroy

Eijirou looks at the talisman. And then does a double take. “This just says ‘fuck off’ in kanji,” Eijirou says to Midoriya. “It’s very effective,” Midoriya says to Eijirou. “What the hell is going on,” Jirou says to the room. (In which the dorms are haunted and Midoriya is an exorcist. In, you know, a manner of speaking.)

Holy fucking shit.

I'm currently in my batman-batfam era, right, so deciding to read this fic was a decision made on a whim. I love this author (they're other works are fantastic too. Not a single miss.), and they only recently finished this fic, so I decided why not?

Best decision of my life.

It's so good. This author's writing style is so fucking unique, one of a kind, and this book really shows it. I've been reading it through the day and the amount of times I've just had to stop and contemplate life has my family low key worried I think? It's that good.

The theological debate is fabulous. Breaking down exsistence into parts is- wow, A+. The eldrich horror elements to this story, the sense of Otherness conveyed through words alone, ijustwanttodestroy has really just outdone themselves.

Please read this, Tumblr. Please, this fic is an Experience that you should not miss.

#fic rec #ao3 #bnha #bnha shinsou #shinsou hitoshi #izuku midoriya #midoriya izuku #izuku midoriya centric #shinsou hitoshi centric #class 1 a #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #and that one poor side character who only existed for as long as we Noticed she did

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i-just-want-to-destroy · 2 months ago

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Thank you for walking study in demonology! Reading it brought me all the way back to the 2019 bnha era. Even tho im a chronic fandom hopper, every once in a while i got pulled back to the bnha fandom like a clinging abused ex gf, cause i feel like no other fandom has given me the same feels as bnha on ao3. It's probably partly because of bnha being a perfect sandbox for ficwriters, but damn you bnha writers are really sth else.

Your work is such an exquisite, heartfelt love letter to the fanfiction medium in general, and the bnha fandom in particular. I hope your pillow is always cool and your socks always come out of the washing machine in pairs.

What's your favourite part about the fic?

hi thanks so much for this ask! super appreciate the kind words :) i agree wholeheartedly i wldnt have started writing my bnha fics if not for the amazing fics ive read from this fandom.

short answer: my favorite part is the process.

super long answer:

(spoilers below fair warning)

demonology has been a learning process for me and also a very strange experience.

ive always been more of an improv writer where i dont really know where a story is going when i write it. with demonology being the way it is, you can surmise that its been a really crazy ride.

ive mentioned this before but it started as an idea of deku being just your typical satanic style exorcist, and as it is a crack fic, i did write it — at the beginning — purposefully to be nonsensical. all the made up “significant” stuff like affinity, authority, even the importance of names and all that — i didnt know what they mean and i didnt care either, i was just making them say whatever that sounded ominous and ridiculous. (often this is for the sake of comedic timing. it is crack after all.)

some comments say the fic didnt make sense, and i agree bc it didnt to me either. but then it DID start to make sense to me. whenever i started to write a new chapter id read back to whatever bullshit i did the previous chap and only then i understood what the hell the characters r talking about. if you look back to the earlier chapters there’d be a lot of foreshadowings, but they werent written to be foreshadowings at the time. its kind of foreshadowing in reverse, bc i only knew what they meant after i wrote them. i didnt know i was writing a meta multiverse time travel fic, but since i did, i had to commit and go crazy.

(in retrospect i think it rly did begin with hitoshi and that cat in ch 3. i didnt even know hitoshi was the “main character” until that chapter. i didnt know that cat was schrodingers cat until i wrote ch 8.)

so u can see how crazy, nonsensical and haphazard the entire writing process of this fic is, which in return gives birth to a crazy, nonsensical and haphazard fic. until its not nonsensical anymore. somehow, there actually is a clear logic in the mechanics of the universe. the cats are schrodinger cats, the demons are maxwell demons, entropies are plotlines which are often riddled with plotholes, the hell is production hell, to be in heaven is to be canonized — and lorem ipsum is the empty blank slate state of the universe. authority actually is authority. the fic gave meaning to itself by the end of it all.

comments ask if i waited for bnha to end — i didnt. bnha ending actually fucked a past version of ch 8, now scrapped. but then it actually … made a better version? and made more sense? its weird.

i did know about some things that were going to happen though. since the first time i had izuku do the “you believe [object] exist,” i always knew i wanted it to be turned back to him (“midoriya izuku doesnt exist”). after i wrote ch 6 i also knew i wanted them to “go back to the beginning” with izuku’s “fall” on the rooftop. but i didnt know until i wrote it that hitoshi was going to choose to fall, too. i know im the author but him choosing that shocked me and i found it moving.

if i had written this “properly”, if i had planned it all with better structuring and better pacing and emotional beats and all that — this might have turned out to be a better written story, in another world. as it is right now there are a lot of flaws that it has. but it wldnt have been the same fic. if not for this fuckass writing process, it wld never have reached the form it takes as of now.

and although it was a very difficult road, i can say wholeheartedly that this strange process has been my favorite part. im doubtful ill ever experience a writing process like this again. the story kept surprising me. a part of why i wanted to finish it was because i wanted to know how it ended too—bc i wldnt know until i wrote it.

of course, at the end of it all, none of us know what their ending is. in the end the story still didnt share its secrets with me and i really really love it for it.

haha this is so long sorry i guess this fic really means a lot to me after all. but yes, thats my answer.

i would also like to thank every reader and commenter once again bc i can honestly say without the feedback and support, this would not have been finished either, or become the way that it is. man. fanfictions, huh?

#demonology deku #ask #fic stuff

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onemeangreenbean · 11 months ago

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Anything CH 6

SUMMARY: On the precipice of death Wynter does the only thing she can think to do to save herself. Something that is forbidden in her practice….to summon a demon and make a deal. The demon that answers her call ask what Wynter is offering and in her delirious state she answers with the only thing she can think of “Anything”.

PAIRING: Demon!Yoongi x BlackWitch OC

GENRE: Demon AU, Mystery, Strangers to Lovers, Soulmates, Smut, Fluff, Angst, slowburn

WARNINGS: none

WORDCOUNT: 5,838

A/N: Hey! Here is chapter 6. This one and the next are a little slow but we gotta do it for the plot! Also I feel the need to state that I in fact grew up listening to Super Junior so don't take anything in this fic TOO seriously. As always I hope you enjoy! Please feel free to interact and talk to me 🥰

Previous | Next

Anything Masterlist | Masterlist

TAGLIST:

“Get up.” The chill from the AC bombarded Wynter’s body as she fought to pull the comforter back up. When she got it settled around her again it was yanked off of her, but this time Yoongi had discarded the offending material on the floor so that she couldn’t re-cover herself.

Wynter groaned as she opened on eye to peer up at the demon lording over her. His gaze was piercing as he waited for her to move. Instead of getting up like she knew he was hoping for she opted to grab a pillow and place it over her head to block out the sun. It was short lived as the pillow was promptly yanked off causing Wynter to groan louder.

What she didn’t expect was to be lifted off of the bed, a small yelp living her lips as she was unceremoniously tossed on the couch. She shot him a glare through her half sleep gaze as she tried to reorient herself to being vertical. Yoongi stood there patiently, jaw tense, as Wynter got herself together pulling her bonnet off letting her curls spill forward in a mess around her head.

“Yoongi, it’s too fucking early for this.” Wynter mumbled as she walked over to her alter to give thanks to her ancestors. Centering herself she rang the brass bell and lit an incense. Yoongi had been on this kick for the past few weeks of waking her up at the ass crack of dawn to get started in training. He was instance on getting her back to the basics. Quizzing her constantly and making sure her rootwork practice what up to snuff. Which it was in Wynter’s eyes, but not according to Yoongi’s standards.

She had been reading books on theology, wards, curses, spells, demonology, magical items, spiritual weapons, and various of “essential” knowledge that the little demon deemed necessary. Not that it wasn’t, just that waking up this early to study it was. Wynter was a zombie as she walked around the apartment checking the wards. Her magic lazy and slow this early. What she needed was caffeine, which was being held hostage behind Yoongi’s body which was leaned up against the counter as he observed her.

“Move,” grumbling she shoved him aside to reach the coffee maker. Her taste buds awaited the steaming liquid but as she poured it she could tell that it was ice cold. Wynter side eyed the demon as she slammed her cup onto the counter. Closing her eyes she prayed for the strength the not punch him in the face.

Hanging her head she hovered her hand over the cup of cold liquid. The spell was easy, a simple ward and small incantation, it was the focus that threw it off for her. Wynter was great at throwing up protection wards. It was what she was tasked with at home. She was comfortable with them because after doing something for so long it become second nature. Other facets of magic, even different wards, were something she wasn’t comfortable with. Not being confident in her magic was her biggest problem and hindrance to her magical life.

Wynter knew that she needed to get comfortable using magic in her everyday life in order to move past her aversion to her own power. It was hard though. The wall she had put up between her and the ability to let the energy flow naturally was blocked. Magic that was yielded with hesitance and fear, was magic that was dangerous to all, including the person wielding it. Yoongi was trying to move her past it, forcing her day in and day out to use it in her life. Even if it meant warming up coffee.

Steam began to raise from her mug as she focused on the feeling of warmth she wanted the liquid to take on, focusing on controlling how much magic she let out. Yoongi watched her quietly as he monitored the flow of energy. Scorching liquid splashed up on Wynter and all over the counter and cabinets as the cup exploded. “Damnit!” Fustratrated, snatched up a rag from the sink and started cleaning up the mess - throwing the broken ceramic pieces in to the garbage. Yoongi silently assisted her in the clean up and warmed up some coffee for her.

“I’m never going to get it.” She scowled down at the perfectly temperature coffee. How he was able to do it so effortlessly aggravated her to no end.

“You just need to stop rushing it, and trust that it will work the way it’s supposed to.” Yoongi stated. “You try to control it to much.” Scoffing Wynter looked out the window. She knew that Yoongi was right. That if she allowed the magic to follow the natural flow it wanted to instead of trying to force it then she probably wouldn’t have to clean up coffee every morning.

“You have any news on Jiyeon?” Wynter wanted to change the topic, even if the topic caused Yoongi to let out a frustrated sigh.

“No. It seems as though she’s gone underground.” Wynter knew that Yoongi had been working trying to locate the witch who cursed her but every lead he had was a deadend. Her apartment stood empty and anyone he asked about her seemed to act like she never even existed. Which at this point, Wynter was even starting to doubt if the girls name was even Jiyeon.

“She has to be working for someone, which makes sense. But to go through so much to kill you and take you power is what’s bothering me.” Yoongi seemed to be talking more to himself than to Wynter at this point. She watched as his brows furrowed and his face pulled into his think face - little pout and all. He had been sending out all of the contacts that he had to see if they could gather any information about a low level witch who was working for a high level demon, but nothing had come back so far.

Wynter walked off to leave Yoongi to his mumbling and plotting. While she still was having problems letting go of her “control” issues with the flow of magic, she was improving on her ability to place wards on her body. She still had to do it everyday, so it took some time in the morning , but she just incorporated it into her morning routine. The one that she was happy she mastered was the mind block one. Living with someone who could read your mind was annoying on the best of days and infuriating on the worst. So as soon as she saw that it was thing she all but bullied Yoongi into teaching her.

Though living with the demon wasn’t all that bad. Yoongi did his share around their now shared tiny apartment, mostly taking over the cooking. Wynter doesn’t understand how she had become banned from her own damn kitchen but she wasn’t going to complain about the amazing meals coming out of it. Her regular diet of ramen and sandwiches thrown to the wayside. It also wasn’t as awkward as she imagined it to be living with a grown , and incredibly attractive, man would be. They had only walked in on each other twice in the bathroom which, while it wasn’t Yoongi hadn’t already seen on her, Wynter saw just enough to keep her up at night.

They left each other alone for the most part if it didn’t involve training or the curse. Yoongi had still yet to tell Wynter about the war brewing down below that he was now the official head of, but she worked enough that he could just go to his meetings and be back before she got home. He only needed her involved in one problem at a time.

Yoongi cast as glance to the side as Wynter opened the fridge, taking in her shorts and t-shirt. He knew he shouldn’t be looking but while he had promised himself to not think any further about the soulmate bond, he still allowed himself the occasionally look at her ass. “Do you know any wards to help stay cool?” Wynter pulled out some homemade ice tea and poured it into a reusable coffee cup to take with her.

Seoul had been hit with a heatwave for the past few days and it was making everything miserable, including her walk to Mikrokosmos. “Yeah,” Setting his empty coffee on the counter he walked over to where Wynter stood with her head in the freezer trying to cool off. When she heard him stand behind her, she reluctantly removed her head from the icey salvation. Taking his hand he placed it on her forehead and thought about the coolest spring day he could think off. What the breeze feels like? How it felt on his skin as the light chill spring air cocooned him.

“Thank god!” She groaned laid her forehead on his chest. The movement startling him a bit since he had been trying his best to avoid touching her outside of the normal amount. “Why didn’t you let me do it though,” Wynter’s voice came out mumbled from where her face was in his chest.

“Be serious. You exploded a cup a coffee, there was no way you weren’t going to make yourself freeze to death.” His chuckled rumbled in his chest causing Wynter to removed her head and look up at him. Eyes big and wide as she pouted a bit.

“That’s why I have you here to unthaw me,” she smiled up at him. Wynter had one of those smiles that lit up her whole face as she laughed. Tapping his chest so that Yoongi could take a step back, she thanked him and made her way towards the door. Slipping on her shoes and grabbing her bag she chirped out a goodbye to Yoongi as she left.

The walk wasn’t as miserable as it had been in past days now that she had the cooling ward that Yoongi had placed on her. Wynter was annoyed that she hadn’t thought to ask him about it earlier that week. The store was quiet when she got in, but she could see the light coming out of Namjoon’s workspace in the back so she knew he was here. If today was going to be anything like the past few weeks had been she was sure she wouldn’t see the tall shaman until around closing.

Sighing she opened the store in silence and went about restocking some of the books in the back. Wynter was happy that the store was able to get back to what it was pre-fight. Between Wynter and Namjoon’s magic, they had been able to piece the place back together relatively quick, barring a few books that were destroyed in the fight. Since than though Wynter noticed that Namjoon had been keeping his distance from her. Only interacting when it pertained to the store or when he needed to re up her amulet.

Really the only Kim that would talk to her for any amount of time was Taehyung. All Jin did was see the youngest to the store with food and medicine for Wynter. She had apologized profusely for Yoongi hurting him, the red welt around his neck a constant reminder. Eventually he told her to stop and that it was okay, but his visits to the store and talks to her we less frequent and oftentimes short. She figured that both Seokjin and Taehyung were trying to stay out of the way until Wynter and Namjoon started talking again.

It wasn’t for a lack of trying on her part. Wynter valued Namjoon’s friendship and presences in her life and didn’t want to loose that. She had tried everything from food to asking questions about an obscure topic he would usually spend hours explaining to her. Yet, she had only receive short answers or the occasional hum of acknowledgement. Each time she walked away in defeat but today Wynter was determine to talk to the man.

One the few morning costumers had left, Wynter armed herself with her homemade sweet tea and ventured back into the workshop. The sweet tea had always been her trump card when she was in trouble. Now was it because of her immaculate recipe or her doing a small sweetin’ spell on it? Who could really say. All that mattered was that it never failed to sweeten people up and make a situation and conversations easier to navigate. Her knuckles rapted on the wooden door frame alerting Namjoon of her presence. Usually Wynter would just walk in but she didn’t want to overstep any of the new boundaries that had been put up.

“Yeah,” his voice was barely audible, but she heard it nonetheless.

“I brought you some of my homemade sweet tea,” Wynter said in a sing song voice. When she got no response so went on, “It’s a great cool and refreshing way to beat this heat.” Wynter watched as Namjoon continued working on whatever it was he was working on, not even sparing her a glance. “I figured you may be thirsty,” her voice trailed off as Namjoon heaved a sigh, dragon eyes looking up.

“What do you want, Wynter?” The cold indifference in his voice was jarring to her, but she understood where it was coming from.

“Well, the store is empty and I came back to see what you were up to,” she tapped the glass in her hand and she tried to keep the conversation going. “You know see if you needed help with anything.”

Namjoon regarding her for a moment before answer, “Well, I don’t need help.” The conversation was getting nowhere, especially not in the direction that Wynter needed it to go in. He had even turned back to his task. She knew that Namjoon was good at reading between the lines, so at this point it just seemed as though he was going to make her work for every single syllable she pulled from him.

Wynter was tired of tip toeing around him. With a huff she stalked over to his desk and sat the glass of tea in front of him. Pulling up a wayward chair and sitting down. “What would you like for me to say?” Her frustration with the situation bleeding out into her tone. “I’ve apologized I don’t know how many times. I’ve put in extra hours. I’m tried to start conversations with you on various topics. Brought peace offerings. Took my studies seriously. So what do I have to say or do to get you to speak to me?”

While her tone wasn’t the nicest she needed him to lay it out for her because she was losing him, her best friend. Namjoon shook his head at her outburst, taking his glasses off to rub his eyes. “Honestly, I don’t know Wyn.” Silence hung between them as she waited for him to continue. “What do you talk about with someone who betrayed you in various ways? Look,” his eyes soften as he took inWynter’s demeanor. Her figure closing in on itself. “I want to forgive you, and I do, I’m just finding it hard to figure out where to start rebuilding our trust.”

Wynter gave a curt nod as she racked her brain. She knew he was right, because if the roles were reversed she would’ve kicked Namjoon out of her life in a heartbeat. The fact that she still was even working at his store was really just a testament to how kind and patient he was. She understood that it was going to take some time in order to build their relationship back up but she at least had a step. Slowly she slid the glass over to him.

“I think I may have a way.” Namjoon looked at the golden liquid skeptical as Wynter explained. “This is my special sweeting sweet tea-”

“Isn’t all sweet tea sweet?” Wynter rolled her eyes at his interruption.

“Yes. But this one is special because it has a sweeting charm on it.” Before he could protest she cut him off, “It’s nothing serious, just a charm to help you see situation a bit better. Open you mind up to paths that you wouldn’t have considered if you were upset. I promise it doesn’t make you feel or think things you wouldn’t normally.”

Namjoon picked up the glass, the ice clinking around as he inspected it. “My mama would always give it to me if I was having a bad day or was mad about something as a kid. Completely harmless. See?” She reached over and took a sip of the cool liquid. As it ran down her throat she felt the world become brighter. Colors more vivid and her deposition that this conversation was hopeless shift into one full of prospects and compromises. It took a moment of him observing her but he must have felt like it was okay because he finally took a drink himself.

“Wow,” Namjoon smacked his lips as he peered down into the glass. “This is really good.”

“Is there anything that you want to know that could help as move forward? I cherish you in my life and I want us to get back to some semblance of what we had before.” She didn’t want to pressure him but she figured if she was tired then so was he.

“Are you really okay with him having you soul and power?” Namjoon stared directly into her eyes. It wasn’t a question that she thought he would ask.

Shifting uncomfortable in the seat, Wynter looked at her hands in her lap unable to meet his gaze. “Of course not! It’s actually terrifying , but,” She paused trying to collect her thoughts and words so that Namjoon wouldn’t misunderstand. “I feel deep down that out of all of the options that could have happened this was the best outcome.” Namjoon’s eyes shoot up into his eyebrows at her words.

Before he could interrupt she continued, “I know it sounds crazy, but I’m just being honest. I’m still going to try everything I can to find a way out of this contract but to be frank Yoongi is a really good teacher.”

Scoffing, Namjoon shook his head, “I’ve been trying to teach and mentor you for over a year. Are you saying that I’m shit at it.”

Wynter could see the hurt that was in his eyes as he posed his question. “Absolutely not!” She leaned over placing his hands in hers. “You are a wonderful teacher it’s just that you both teach differently. I still learned the bulk of what I know from you. Yoongi just has a more abrasive why of getting his points across,” she mumbled the last bit, still annoyed at being woken up so damn early.

“Truly, I’m sorry that I betrayed your trust and didn’t come to you with this sooner.” Wynter whispered softly. “I trust you implicitly but I didn’t show you that, so let me prove it.” The both sat in silence as Namjoon eyes moved across her face, seeming to try and gauge if she was lying or not.

“Okay,” Namjoon nodded after coming to his decision and squeezed her hands, taking note of how small they were in his. “You really want to find a why out of this contract?”

“Fuck yes,” Wynter laughed, bringing a small smile to Namjoon’s face.

“Well, it looks like I better get to researching-” Wynter threw her arms around the man before he could finish his sentence. Pulling him into a tight hug. Namjoon was too stunned to react right away but quickly wrapped his arms around Wynter. It felt nice to have her in his arms but he let go as soon as she did. “Um, let me reup your necklace.” He held out his hand for her to drop the amulet into.

Quickly she unhooked it and gave it to him. It had becoming routine for them in the past few weeks. Namjoon wanted to make sure that the amulet was always at it’s strongest, especially with a curse as strong as it was chipping away at the protection. He made sure to re-enchant it every few days. Between Namjoon’s amulet, Jin’s medicine, and Yoongi’s hovering, Wynter felt as good as new. Well, maybe not as good as knew, but she could tell that she was regaining her spiritual energy back. She wasn’t at a hundred percent, but she was at least up to seventy-five, which was enough to start training training according to Yoongi.

Wynter didn’t agree but the demon was unwavering in his resolve. If she could push back actually having to use her power until never she would. The thought of unleashing it filled her with anxiety and fear. Yoongi wasn’t wrong because she could feel the power that she tried to suppress bubbling to the surface, an unfortunate byproduct of everyone trying to help her. It wasn’t even something she had been knowingly doing.

The rest of her shift felt less awkward now that they had talked and flew by. “Um, let me know if you need anything,” Namjoon returned her necklace. “I’ll try and see what I can find out about breaking high level demon contracts.”

“Thanks again, Joonie!” Wynter stated as she gathered her things to get ready to leave, missing the blush that colored the mans face. She needed to get home in order to call her momma. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she called as she rushed out the storefront. She didn’t get to talk to her momma often due to time difference between them, so when she could find a way to she took it.

Thankfully, the walk home was quick and the apartment thankfully empty, Wynter didn’t know where Yoongi went off to when she wasn’t around but she honestly did not care cause it gave her some peace and quiet. Her phone rang as she was warming up some leftover that Yoongi had left in the fridge for her. “Momma!”

“Hey, baby,” the honey tone of her momma’s voice soothed Wynter. “Is now a good time?”

“Any times a good time when you call,” the both chuckled at Wynter’s cheesiness. “How’s business going?” Her momma had a small shop in their town where she would take on clients to do some spiritual work for. It wasn’t lucrative but it did pay the bills and allow them to live comfortably.

“Oh, it’s going. Rev. Brown asked me to help him in some candle rituals this last week. Apparently, the congregation has been going through it!” The talked for a bit about the hometown gossip and how family was doing. “Right, Marcus asked about you the other day.”

Wynter’s smiled faded at hearing that her former friend had inquired about her. It was hard keeping her distance but she needed to. Wynter knew she didn’t deserve his thoughts, after when she had done.

“Oh baby,” she hated hearing the pity in her momma’s voice. “You got to let it go. You can’t keep denying you abilities.” Wynter snorted in response because of course she would say that. Her family had always seen her power as a blessing, when what it truly was was a curse. “You have got to not let it control you.”

“That’s easier said then done. You don’t understand what it’s like having this ability.” Wynter’s family had been filled with powers focusing on healing or prophecy and protection. Not her power though. She had a power that could create as much as it could destroy. A matter based power that allowed her to pluck things out of and into existence but since matter can neither be created or destroyed, anything she created had to come from somewhere. Wynter found out the hard way the bigger the creation the bigger the destruction.

A walking black hole is how she would describe herself. Slowly dragging things into her orbit and pulling them apart atom by atom. That’s what she did to Marcus and if it wasn’t for his quick thinking he would be dead too. So, no, Wynter had no desire to try to learn to control her power or train with it, but with her contract with Yoongi she was going to have to figure it out.

“I know I don’t understand the impact using your gift has on you, but what I do understand is that you not being able to control it is more my fault than yours-”

“Momma,” Wynter sighed.

“No, Wynter. If I took the time to learn more about you gift and trained you properly than you would be in a better place. So that’s on me.” Wynter could hear her mommas determination bleeding though the phone. It was the same conversation that they had every time her power would be brought up. Both of them trying to out guilty the other, leading only into silence as they both never knew how to resolve the problem.

Though this time Wynter understood, albeit reluctantly, that the solution lay with the demon she had made a deal with. Yoongi knew what he was doing and Wynter trusted that he would be able to stop her if need be. It was an uncomfortable truth admitting that she was using him as a kind of safety net that she knew Namjoon wanted to be for her. In order to be truly open to using her power she needed someone she knew would be willing to take her out if it became out of control.

Wynter hated that the only way she could see using her power was by knowing the death was the only way to stop her, but until proven otherwise that’s what she would go with. They spoke for a bit more after that, the conversation stilted but they would rather go through a million awkward pauses then hangup that phone. She conveniently didn’t mention how she made a deal with a demon to her momma, figuring she had had enough lecturing to last her a life time. Wynter knew it was only a matter of time until one of her ancestors dimed her out so she would just wait until she couldn’t any more.

“Well, I gotta go make this food for your father before he starts tearing up my house. He already done came in her twice with those big ol eyes of his,” her momma chuckled.

“Okay. Tell him I said hi and that I love him.”

“I will. Love you baby.”

“Love you to momma.”

The smoke in the bar was causing Yoongi’s nose to itch, ut he tampered down the urge to scratch it. He hated having to meet in places like this but this bar was the only one he was sure he had full control over. Solar had been a formidable ally to this rebellion and had graciously allowed him and the others to meet up to strategize there.

Moonbyul gave him a head nod, which he returned, as he walked by and down the hidden stairway that was tucked behind the bar. He heard his men before he saw them. “All I’m saying, Jimin, is that if it was me Shindong wouldn’t have been able to get away. You go to soft on them.”

“I’m sorry, but unlike you I was a little preoccupied with making sure I didn’t fucking die.” Yoongi made it to the bottom of the stairs and saw the to two young ones still arguing while, Hobi watched amused and drunk his beer.

“Hyung tell him my job is hard too,” Jungkook turned to Yoongi with a slight pout on his lips and doe eyes imploring him to take his side. Jimin on the other hand looked ready to throw his chair at the youngest face.

“Both jobs are hard,” Yoongi mumbled out. “But unlike Jimin you’re not actively fighting.” Jungkook let out a gasp of betrayal while Jimin just looked smug. They continued bickering with Hobi’s encouragement in the form of snide remarks. Yoongi sipped his whisky as he took it in, not realizing that he missed this. The feeling of being around people who would do anything for you and vice versa.

All three men had followed him into the underworld without a second thought, committing themselves to a life in literal hell. Jimin was the best assassin that Yoongi had and Jungkook was right behind them. Their competition to be better than each other made them the best in the kingdom. Though at the end of the day they would do anything to protect one another. Yoongi couldn’t believe that in his long life that he had found folks willing to follow hims blindly into hell. Stupid if anyone asked him.

Taking a final sip of the amber liquid Yoongi cleared his throat, the table quieting down. Glancing over at Jimin he asked, “Updates?”

“I was able to gather some territories in the west but then Shindong started in with those fucking earthquakes. Everytime I would think I got far enough away I’d be hit with one.” Jimin ran his hands through his auburn hair. Yoongi grimace at the thought of the demons earth magic. It was handy in a way that he could just open up the earth and swallow you whole. He was happy that Jimin hadn’t fallen into one of the fissures Shindong opened up.

“I was able to gather about another legion or two before I had to fight him head on. Unfortunately, he got away by creating a rift.” At this Jungkook snickered. “When you’re staring into a bottomless chasm see if you don’t save yourself!”

“What about you, Jungkook?” Yoongi watched as the young assassin turned to look at him.

“I was able to injury Yesung and take a grab about half a legion from his territory,” he stated proudly. Fortunately for them demons are fickle with their loyalty. So if they are unhappy with the currently reign then they are easily swayed to whoever’s side will overthrow. Yoongi was just happy he had made a large enough name for himself to cause demons to follow him without pause.

He had always been good at domestic and foreign affairs, making it easy for him to create allies. Unlike Jungsoo who made enemies everywhere he went.

“Okay. Hoseok?”

The red haired demon looked over the brim of his beer and made eye contact with Yoongi. “I was able to take out Heechul and Eunhyuk. I know they were on your ass for a bit, but they like the rest of the ELF faction think that they’re infallible, which they found out that they are not.” The smile that he had on his face could be describe as sinister and Yoongi had never been more happy that he would never have to face his best friend in battle.

“I was also able to get some information out of them about some of Jungsoos plan,” Hoseok tilted his head to the side as he thought. “It’s not a lot to go on but it seems as though he’s power collecting. My opinion,” he stated frowning, “It seems as though he feels his power slipping and it’s trying to tighten the reins by outranking and outpowering any opposition.” Yoongi hummed in thought and agreement, tapping his finger on the table as he thought. It sounded like something Jungsoo would do. It’s what ever fading leader or dynasty did to protect itself; lash out, becoming overly aggressive, and in this cause make mistakes. Power hoarding wasn’t unheard of but it’s something only bottomfeeder demons did, not something someone in Jungsoo’s position would do because it made them look weak, and that was something Yoongi could use to his advantage.

Smirking Yoongi’s tapping stopped. “We need to keep gathering factions and allies, but don’t engage any of ELF. I want them scrambling trying to regain the ones they lost. Jimin start a few rumors regarding them stealing powers, make sure they stick. Jungkook keep doing what you’re doing focus on the SHAWOLS faction, we need them on our side to turn the rest. Hobi,” Yoongi paused to run his hands through his hair, “figure out where these powers are coming from. We need to find a way to cut off the supply.”

The men at the table all nodded in agreement. The stayed for a bit longer, catching up and drink a few more rounds, not really knowing the next time they would see each other. They all knew that war was brutal and that tomorrow was never promised so they always made the most of their time together. It was a fucked up family, but it was their fucked up family. Yoongi, as always, was the first to leave, having reached his interaction threshold.

“Where are you off to, hyung?” Jungkook inquired, the alcohol making his face flushed. Yoongi knew that he would have to tell them about Wynter at some point but for know he wanted to just keep her to himself.

“Took a new contract-” the sound of disbelief and confusion went between Jungkook and Jimin. “Yah! I take them every now and then.”

“Taking on a contract in the middle of a war is an interesting choice,” Yoongi leveled Hobi with a glare. He was fully aware that dividing his time was a risky move but he also knew that having someone with a power like Wynter’s on their side would be useful. If he could get her to use the fucking thing.

“It was an interesting case,” he quirked an eyebrow challenging any of them to press him further. Hobi raised his hands in surrender and chuckled. Yoongi owed them an explanation, just not today. “See you all later.” He apparated once he made it out of the bar.

The apartment was quiet, except for the sound of the tv playing quietly. He was silent in his steps as he walked over to where Wynter was curled up on the couch. A half drunk glass of wine on the coffee table and a book laid haphazardly over her face. He still couldn’t understand how she could read with the tv on and still comprehend what she was reading.

A sigh slipped past his lips and he lifted her into his arms, taking her over to the bed. She made a small whimper as she got comfortable again, falling into a deeper sleep. Yoongi cleaned up her mess before crawling into the otherside of the bed. It had become routine that Yoongi would stay in bed with her as she was still waking up in the middle of the night having night terrors. He got little to no sleep this way. The warmth from her body a constant reminder of her presence next to him. Honestly, he didn’t know why he was torturing himself that this, but he knew that if it made her feel safer he would do it.

#bts smut #bts x reader #bts x black reader #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #yoongi x black reader #bts x oc #bts x black girl #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x oc

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