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cry4mina · 9 months ago

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Take Me Back To Eden - Aqua Regia (Part 3)

(Nayeon x fem!reader)

Take Me Back To Eden - Choke Hold - Part 1

Take Me Back To Eden - Granite - Part 2

Word Count: 5.1k Angst/More Angst/Angry Fluff/A secret fourth thing? Summary: Reader has the name of the person who wrote the note and decides it's time to let the culprits know how they feel. TW: Mentions of drinking, confrontations, trapped in a small space, sitting in the rain, mentions of food, intimate moments sprinkled in there (Not sex, but like something you'd only do with your partner, if that makes sense??). Reader is half way on a war path, but is overwhelmed by their own emotions, lost of confusion. Let me know if I missed anything! A/N: WELP, this is the end of my first series. I do really appreciate all of the support shown and I look forward to posting more content for everyone in the future! If you haven't read the first two parts of this, they are linked above the word count! Thank you for reading<3

***after hearing feedback from everyone this will NOT be the end of this series! Stay tuned****

Reminder: My asks/requests and DMs are always open!

You stare at the screen of your phone in absolute disbelief as you read the singular name texted to you. Blood boils through your skin as your fear turns to anger.

The phone starts vibrating in your hand as Nayeon calls trying to get a hold of you again. You throw your phone across the room in a fit of rage. It continues to vibrate against the floor, refusing your want for silence.

You are dumbstruck and livid, fighting the water that threatens to fall from your eyes. Your feet are flat on the floor, elbows resting on your knees as you hunch over, head in hands.

You’re too angry to even begin to decipher exactly what your body needs as the trauma sinks its teeth into your bones. Cold poison taints the warmth of your soul.

You’ve spent years unearthing and healing old scars, only for the person who helped you through it to completely undo all the hard work.

You quickly stand up and retrieve your now shattered phone as it rings, making your way back to the couch when you see a cable tucked until the cushion.

You raise your eyebrow, placing your phone on the arm of the couch before tugging on the wire to reveal Nayeon’s ipad hiding between the seats of the love seat you plopped on.

“She’s probably pissed she forgot this.” you smile at the thought wishing for inconvenient things to happen to annoy her for the remainder of the day.

You’d never wish actual harm on her, you still loved her. You are definitely upset enough to wish for one of her nails to break enough to make them look uneven, or for her shirt to be caught on a door handle while walking through it.

You swipe up to unlock it but it reveals a keypad for a passcode. You hesitate. Was this something you really wanted to do? You no longer had any trust in her but would you breaking her trust make it any better?

You punch in the first code and the screen shakes. It’s not her birthday. You try your birthday, the lock shimmies back at you asking for another set of numbers. You think for a second before trying your anniversary and it opens.

A deep breath in, and you click on the messages. Searching for the name of the person who accompanied your partner in betrayal.

You notice in the sidebar your name with a heart and the banner underneath your name swiftly changing as it synchronizes with the pinging of your phone.

You fixate on the other names in the list. Momo, Sana, Mina, a few Twice group chats when the name pops up to the top of the list.

“Are you alright?”

You seeth knowing the hands that typed that message are the hands that touched Nayeon. You see the text bubble start to move and then stop only to start up again.

“No, I’m flying back home tonight instead of tomorrow. I’ll call you later.”

Great. You think about packing a bag and heading to Momo’s but this was your apartment. Why should you have to leave? You think about how long you have until Nayeon arrives.

You phone goes back to buzzing as she’s panic texting you. Telling you that she will be home later tonight and you can talk it through then. She begs you not to leave the apartment. You scoff.

The ipad pings again.

“Okay, just checking in. My plane just landed back home and I have a meeting. I should be home after that. If you need a place to stay, just let me know.”

Your stomach churns at the offer. Hands that aren’t yours trailing Nayeon’s body weighs heavy in your stomach. This person can’t be offering this to her. What if she says yes? You fixate on the screen as the chat bubble pops up.

“I really do appreciate that but I don’t think that y/n would want me to stay with you.”

“A little too late, no?” You say out loud annoyed that she’s trying to assert a boundary with this person. Knowing full well it already happened.

“So she knows now? When you said you got into an argument, I didn’t think it was about that…”

You grit your teeth. You hear your jaw crack under the pressure as your eyes widen, seeing the acknowledgement of the deed with your own eyes. It has your sights on red.

“Yes. I know now.” You type into the virtual keyboard hitting send immediately and tossing the ipad to the side. For a brief second, silence fills the room. No notifications, no pinging of text tones. Just pure silence.

You stand up hastily, leaving your electronics behind, not wanting another text notification or phone call. Grabbing your keys and wallet before walking out the door. You’ve got a meeting to get to.

You hop into the driver's seat and put your car in reverse and pull out of the parking spot and into the road. The tires are recklessly screeching behind you as you swerve through traffic

. You run through the red lights like they’re nothing. Not even blinking as you speed onto the freeway in silence. You know exactly where the meeting is and you plan on being present for it.

You get off on the exit, and pull up to the JYP building, parking in Nayeon’s spot knowing she wasn’t going to be in today. You rip the keys from the ignition, hear the scrape of the metal as you push the car door open and slam it behind you.

The fresh rage in your body physically manifests as you speed walk through the cold air, steam rising from your arms as you start to walk through the side entrance close to the elevators.

As you walk past the security guard. He stands to greet you and informs you that Nayeon isn’t in today. You look at him and he sees the absolute fury in your eyes, “Carry on, Y/n” and seats immediately back at the desk.

You return to your pace, reaching the elevator and slamming the “Up�� button with your hands, probably too hard as it starts the woman also waiting.

You cross your arms; heart racing with your jaw and fists clenched, leaving the taste of copper in your mouth and indents in your palms as you “patiently” wait for the elevator to come down to pick you up.

You hear the ringing and snap your head up to see none other than Park Jihyo standing inside, about to get off when your eyes connect. Her smile fades quickly when she realizes what’s about to happen.

She tried to take a step out and greet you, but you put your hand on her shoulder and shove her lightly back into the elevator. The woman you previously startled hesitates so come in.

“Would you mind taking the next one?” You hiss at her. You don’t wait for an answer, hitting the button for floor 7, and turning to face the doors as they close.

The lights are bright and threatening as you ascend up. You count the floors as they pass, Jihyo silent behind you nervously playing with her hands when you reach out and hit the “Stop” button.

The elevator grinds to a halt between floors. You turn around to face Jihyo, eyebrows creased and lean against the walls of the 6ft wide box.

“When were you planning on telling me, Hyo?” You spit at her loudly. Your hands rise to pinch the bridge of your nose. She flinched at the tone and volume of your voice.

You weren’t going to hurt her, she knew that. She’s just never seen you like this before. She takes in your demeanor and slowly runs her eyes up your body taking note of your unkempt clothes, the bags under your eyes, and lack of jacket.

“Did you speed here after seeing that conversation?” She quizzically inquired while tilting her head at you. You roll your eyes, uninterested in the question. You feel like she’s challenging you, even if it is innocent.

“Here’s what we are going to do.” Firmly enunciating your words as they sputter out of your mouth.

“I’m going to ask you the questions and you are either going to answer them or we are going to be in this elevator for a very long time.”

Jihyo nods her head, understanding that this isn’t the time for her to try to ease the tension with playful banter. She does pity you though, knowing that she was part of the cause makes her eye shift to the floor as she begins to speak. Her empathy is losing its meaning in your apathy.

“Listen Y/n, I know that this is a lot and I can’t imagine what you are going through and feeling right now. I need you to know that it was a one time thing and it has never happened again. We were both drunk out of our minds.”

She lifted her head up to try to sneak a look at your face. She sees your eyes spilling over and winces. She hates this just as much as you do but you’re unsure of if it’s because the conversation is emotionally charged or just uncomfortable.

“It was a stupid mistake. We were going to tell you but we were trying to avoid this. It was years ago. I didn’t even know she was seeing someone until she told me the morning after. She was inconsolable. She was so scared to lose you that she couldn’t stop crying and shaking…I wrote her that note and stuck it in her wallet the night of thinking it would be funny to wake up too. I thought she would’ve thrown it away by now.” Jihyo sighed heavily, searching your face for signs that you were absorbing her story.

“I can tell you this much. I’ve never seen Nayeon look at anyone the way she looks at you. The way her eyes light up when she talks about you is something other people dream about when they think of love.”

You choke on your emotions. Dropping your angry mask to reveal the truth behind your eyes. Suffering. You squat down and hold your knees to your chest as you sob. Jihyo quickly follows, placing a hand on your back trying to console you.

Once you have some semblance of calm, Jihyo speaks again. “Do you remember the night that I called you from Nayeon's phone?” Hyo smiles at the memory. It lives happily in her brain too

. “I didn’t know how into you she was until she started crying about missing you…and when you got to my house and she almost tackled you in the snow, it only solidified how important you are to her. It was my idea not to say anything…”

You glare at her waiting for her to finish.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. I really am. I just didn’t want to shatter something that was just starting. Look at the beautiful relationship you’ve built with her. I could tell when I saw you both together that you were meant for each other. I felt bad for it then and I feel even worse about it now.”

You feel yourself melting into sadness, once more. A heavy breath leaves your mouth when you realize you were so wrapped up in what was happening that you forgot you were in a stopped elevator.

You calmly stand and brush yourself off. You hit the stop button again and the elevator groans to the 7th floor. The doors open and a few people file in, not realizing the emotionally charged conversation that had just taken place, though you’re sure it’s displayed across your face.

A man in a suit pressed the “Ground level” button and the elevator descended to the lobby.

Once the doors open, you swiftly walk past security. Trying to leave behind the anger fueled attempt at a conversation, even if you didn’t say much.

The friendship you developed with Jihyo allowed her to know exactly what to say so keep you calm despite that being the first appearance of your unadulterated anger.

You leave JYP through the front doors, and start walking down the sidewalk through the rain. “Where are you going?” You hear Jihyo shout from the front of the building. You don’t even turn around, you just keep walking.

You find yourself in a park by a river and sit down on the wet bench. The light drizzle that threatened rain all day opened up and washed over your skin.

You should’ve brought a jacket, you think as you let the cool drops land on your back completely soaking you. You reach in your pocket, forgetting that your phone is at home.

The words “Missing something?” Unearths itself out of the rain with a black umbrella and sits next to you on the bench, shielding you from the downpour. “Didn’t want to be bothered by the constant ringing?” You sit in silence not wanting to interact with Jihyo.

She knows you well. You’ve been around each other for long enough to pick up on the little things. You roll your eyes wishing it wasn’t someone who could reflect you back to yourself. “Look, I know this is overwhelmin-“

“No, you don’t” cutting her off with a tone that could dissolve the strongest on metals.

Your face contorted with exasperation as you spew out the words, “You have NO idea what it’s like to look at the person you’ve spent the last 3 years with and question whether or not they are who they say. You don’t know what it’s like for that same partner to hide things behind your back with someone you consider family. Please tell me about a time you’ve experienced this level of betrayal, Hyo. You’ve got no clue what I’ve been struggling with these past few days and don’t you dare say that you have!”

Your words were harsh and she accepted them.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” She calmly states while holding eye contact with you.

You're more upset that she’s so polished in her responses. You maintain your angry demeanor turning to face the river in front of you.

The rain continues to fall as you sit in silence, Jihyo just sitting next to you waiting for you to speak.

“Why are you still here?” Annoyed at her presence.

“Because I’ve made you upset with my actions and you’re my friend.” The emotional whiplash your body is projecting is infuriating. Overwhelmed by the notion that two things could be true at once. On one hand, you’re livid with Jihyo and Nayeon. On the other, you respect the accountability of the person in front of you, even if it only instills anger in you further.

She’s sat here in silence with you, in the middle of a thunderstorm only to be yelled at.

“If I would have known this was the result of keeping it a secret, I would’ve told you years ago. I wouldn’t have convinced Nayeon not to say anything. Hell, I barely remember any of it, neither of us do. I really am sorry.”

Her words make you think about Nayeon. If she didn’t remember…if she wanted to tell you.

Nayeon had never broken your trust before. She was always honest, even overly honest. She would answer anything you asked her. You had trusted her with every detail of your life.

Every scar that ever calloused over your heart was shown to her. Whenever they started to ache again, she would kiss the wounds and soothe you. You crave that same comfort now, undecided if you are going to go and get it, reeling at the potential falsehood of it all.

Jihyo watched the cogs move in your head as you sorted through the information and filed it away where it belonged.

She stands up and looks over, “do you want a ride back to your car? The rain is only going to get worse from here.” You nod your head yes and walk back to the car, getting in the passenger side. You sit in silence the 4 minute drive back.

Your stomach starts to growl as you approach the JYP building. You wished you brought your phone with you so you could order something and have it be at the house by the time you got there.

“If you ever want to talk, please know I’m here for you” she says as you get out of the car in silence and close the door behind you.

You ended up stopping at a local cafe to get something to go. The girl behind the counter widening her eyes as she watches you walk in, absolutely drenched. You ordered your usual sandwich.

“Anything else?” The girl behind the register asks, still looking at you like you’ve got something on your face other than rain and tears.

“Yeah, actually. Can I get that one salad you guys have with the apples in it? I’m not really sure what it’s called.” You only know it by “Nayeon’s favorite”.

The girl rolls her eyes and punches in the order. You pay for it, and twiddle with your thumbs while you wait.

Pulling up to the apartment felt different this time. No people waiting for Nayeon outside, no cars blocking you from making a swift escape into the building. You wonder if she’s home yet as you get into the elevator.

The kitchen is lit up upon entry. You left all the lights on. Phone and ipad are still on the love seat but the sectional is occupied by a sleeping Nayeon.

She’s wrapped in the blanket you’ve been using and laying on your pillow. You quietly walk in and place the food on the counter and quickly step into the bedroom. You let out a light sigh, and decide it’s time you take a shower. Feeling grimey from the rain.

You emerge from the bedroom in sweatpants and a cropped tank top, hair still wet. You tie it up into a bun and quietly pull plates down from the cabinets.

You glance over to see Nayeon still asleep and notice that her phone is in her hands. She’s probably waiting to hear from you. Plating the take out, you quietly bring the dishes over to the living room and place them lightly on the coffee table.

You return to the kitchen and grab another bottle of wine from the refrigerator and a set of glasses. You pop the bottle open, and freeze as you hear a shift coming from the couch.

You don’t look back at the sound. Continuing pouring the wine into the glasses you had already set out. You hear a light gasp as she notices the food on the table. You hear the smile in it and fight back the upward pull of your lips.

Anxiety sets in as you remember what you’re walking into. You feel your fingers locking up as you reach for cutlery. It rattles in the drawer, drawing Nayeon’s attention. She stills as she feels her brain turn on, remembering what had happened hours beforehand.

Picking up the glasses and bringing them to the table, her eyes follow your every move. You place a glass down in front of her and hand her silverware. “Eat.”

She’s moving very cautiously through this unnavigated territory. Not only in the sense of “walking on eggshells” even her usually fluid movements were slow and strategized.

You take the sight of her in as you pick at your food. It looks like the nap she took was the first ounce of sleep she’s had in days. Eyes bloodshot and half lidded as she chews. She sets her fork down, takes a large sip of the wine and looks down at the floor.

“...Y/n…” she briefly looks up to see you already present and focused on her. You’re waiting for your explanation that she owes you.Her eyes return to the food in front of her to avoid adding discomfort to herself.

Her face beams a shade of red as her eyes close. It twists in a way you’ve seen many times before and she tries to hold it all together. Pools of tears start to collect and shed as she continues. Her words muffled underneath a thick layer of guilt.

“I made a mistake, a really bad one, at the very beginning of our relationship.” You wince at the sound of her voice cracking. The sharp edged subject matter slicing at you in the same way finding that note did.

“I need you to know that I do not remember any of it. I was that drunk and so was Jihyo.” Another twist of the knife in your chest. You remember to breathe and continue listening.

“Nothing has happened since, and nothing like this would ever happen again. I wanted to tell you but the person I was then and the person I am now are two completely different people. Even that version of myself would never dream of hurting you in such a way. I allowed myself to be convinced that not telling you was better than you leaving. Please understand that I would do anything to remove this from my past…our past.”

It all becomes too much as you shoot up from your seat and bring your plate to the kitchen and put it in the sink. Faucet on, you scrub the plate like it’s caked in dirt. Nayeon, who is still in the living room, stands up and follows you to the sink.

She’s sniffling behind you, covering her mouth with the sleeve of your sweater she was wearing. You tilt your head to face her, taking in the pure shame she was already putting herself through for the act that she committed. You turn the faucet off and dry your hands with the towel hanging on the oven’s handle while turning to fully face her.

You pitch the bridge of your nose trying not to break again. Wide eyes looking at you, studying your body language trying to determine what you’ll say…if you’ll say anything. She can see the stress emanating from you

“Please say something.” She breathes, reaching out to touch your shoulder in hopes to bring you back to the present. Hoping it’ll keep you from emotionally shutting down.

It sends a shock to your nervous system, almost jumping out of your skin as the soft familiar hand glides down your arm to your hand where she leaves it.

“I don’t know what to say, Nayeon.” You are battling yourself. You are both angry and so in love with this beautiful human in front of you. Even with tears in her eyes, she was magic to you. Effortlessly, stunning even in the face of fear.

You are endlessly baffled by the mistake made because she’s always been so attentive, so patient, so tender and caring that even her admitting it to your face felt like a lie. You know that’s not who she is, right? Wrong. You don’t know anything for certain. Logic and emotion argue as you stand there silently. Trying to figure out where to go next.

She reaches out and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, the other hand still in yours and tears still falling. You don’t want to let go of her hand, but you don’t want to tighten your hold on it either.

She’s patiently watching your eyes as they animate the war in your head. The two sides were fighting and you were standing on the fence of the choice you had to make. You ponder what life would be like without her and what life was like with her. Do all of those amazing moments count for nothing? Were they a waste of time?

You take a deep breath and look Nayeon right in the eyes. She feels almost violated by how deeply you are looking into her.

“I am devastated.” Your shoulders are feeling slightly lighter as you continue.

“I can’t believe you did this and didn’t tell me. For our entire relationship to be built on this foundation absolutely shatters me and everything we’ve ever built together. I feel like I don’t know who you are.”

The last sentence knocks the wind out of her. She’s gasping for air and holding back sobs.

“I just never expected this from you…” you said shakily while you watched her try to collect herself.

You rotate and sit down on the floor, sliding your back down the flat doors of your cabinets. She follows but on the other side, feet between yours. Trying to muffle the cries because she can’t bear the fact that she has caused this damage.

You feel the exhaustion take over. Your physical body has been tensing to hold the weight of the situation for days now. You yawn, Nayeon regulates her breath as you try to gain the energy to continue the conversation.

She stands up and lays her hand out for you, wordlessly. She doesn’t let go of it as she leads you to your shared bedroom, a bed left untouched sits right in the middle.

You are thinking about how great sleeping in your bed will feel after being on the couch for days. She’s out of the room as quickly as she brought you here.

You start to feel warm under your clothes. You remove them and fling them into a corner. Crawling under the comforter and settling in.

Nayeon returns, your pillow in hand. She notices you’re missing your tank top and shifts her eyes down out of respect. Not knowing if you wanted her to see you this way anymore.

She bends down and unplugs her phone charger and grabs her pillow. “I’ll sleep on the couch, I know how your back gets. Please get some rest.” She kneels on the bed for a second and leans in but hesitates.

Was it her place to kiss your forehead still? She took the risk and quickly walked out of the room.

You lay in bed for what feels like hours. Uncomfortably tossing and turning in the lonely sheets. You open your eyes and stare at the ceiling, getting lost in the patterns of the texture.

Exhaustion is no match for your mind and you really don’t want to be in this bed alone right now. You sit up, comforter falling to reveal your chest.

You think about how Nayeon is on the couch by herself right now. Probably overthinking everything and stressing herself out, no sleep in sight. In a moment of weakness, you stand up and saunter into the living room.

She lay splayed out in the sectional, phone in hand scrolling mindlessly in the warm light. A useless distraction, you were all that filled her mind.

You take note that she removed the sweater and was only in a sports bra now. You can’t help but daydream about how her skin feels on yours.

She notices you standing in the doorway, arms crossed, holding yourself. She looks away from her phone to acknowledge your presence, locking it and laying it on her chest.

“Having trouble sleeping too?” You nod and bite the inside of your cheek.

You take the risk, slowly wandering to the front of the sectional and climbing into the blanket with her. She’s surprised by the action but lifts the blanket so you can get comfortable, making sure you're covered.

“You’re so cold” she whispers as you press your face into her neck and wrap your arms around her causing her to shiver. You don’t have the same compulsion of not wanting her to touch you. She feels like Nayeon. She feels like home.

She starts tracing patterns on your shoulder as she leans her face on the top of your head. Both silently enjoy each other's comfort as you drift off to sleep.

Awoken by the sound of humming in the kitchen, you smile before you even open your eyes. You know what’s happening before you are even half awake.

You’re still wrapped in the soft blanket on the sectional taking up more space that you originally were now that the other person was up and about.

“Shit.” A whispered voice rings through the apartment.

“Too much creamer again?” You slyly say from the couch. You hear her jump, she must’ve not realized you were awake.

“I didn’t mean to wake you, ba-“ she stops herself from saying the pet name, not knowing what the boundaries were anymore.

“You didn’t wake me. I should be the one apologizing, I was the one who scared you.” You chuckle, getting up and stretching before throwing on the sweater, laid across the couch’s back, to cover up a little before you start your morning rituals.

When you turn around you see her cheeks fill with red. “You okay?” You ask her, grabbing the black mug, taking a sip.

“I think so…” she says slowly, unsure of her next step. “I think I just want to know what the next step is…for us.”

Her eyes flicker to your face waiting for a response. You start to walk over to the bedroom.

“Well, we usually shower next, have you forgotten our routine already? It was only a couple of days” Trying to make light of the situation.

She giggles “you know what I mean…I just need to know if I can mend this. To fix this. Falling asleep with you last night was the calmest I’ve felt… ” You interrupt her before she can cloud your brain with sweet things. She always knew how to break you with that.

“I’m still angry that you hid it from me” stoically expressing the truth. Both truths.

“But I love you.” She smiles, hopeful of what’s to come, walking towards you with her arms out. Wrapping them around your neck and pulling you in for a soft peck.

After a few more quick kisses, foreheads connected as her arms slid down to your waist.

“But I need to make it very clear that I cannot do this again. So if you’re hiding anything else, please tell me now.”

She cups your face in her hands and brings you in for a long kiss that makes you a little weak in the knees. “I’ll never hide anything from you again. Ever.”

“Good, will you start the shower then?”

She happily skips into the bathroom.

You start to pick out what clothes you’re wearing for the day when you hear a phone vibrate in the kitchen. Walking over to the counter and picking up the closest phone to see which one it was. It’s Nayeon’s phone with a message from Jihyo.

Your face drops as you read “Did she believe you or do we actually need to stop seeing each other?”

Take Me Back to Eden - Ascensionism - Part 4

#twice angst #twice imagines #twice nayeon #nayeon x fem!reader #nayeon #im nayeon #nayeon x reader #twice fic #kpop x fem reader #kpop x reader #twice x y/n #wlw #lesbian

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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 months ago

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WIP

Just a lil snippet:

The moon left him restless, but the call of the shift from human to canine always did. Misae stripped before the shift could take hold, throwing the sweatpants and shirt onto the bed even as he felt himself bending over, the first prickles of sensation running like goosebumps and setting his hair on end.

As bones cracked and broke beneath his skin, painlessly reforming, he dropped to all fours and felt bare, vulnerable fingers change to rougher paw pads and clicking nails. Canine teeth lengthened and his ears grew. Fur spread over skin like a blanket, warming his chilly body, but even as he became the first form he ever knew - the one Bill kept them in for their first year in silver-lined kennels that dulled the ability to shift and left the young wolves toddling unsteadily on two legs when they only knew four - Misae knew he had to hide. He had to avoid the silver light against his fur and ignore the call to run or to howl and see if other wolves nearby would answer. Misae paced restlessly around the small room, snuffling a newly-dark nose against the ground, tracing the hints of Eden and Anaya in here and then following the softer smell of Vanessa, who had cleaned in here before they arrived, until he found the closet door was cracked open. He had to paw at it, whining softly with his ears flat against his head, looking nervously at the patch of moonlight heading inexorably in his direction. His heart raced beneath his fur at the sight. Bill had always said - never let the moonlight touch you. During the full moon, the pack in the kennels would all shift, the moon made them do it then, and they would huddle together inside big wooden boxes that formed a kind of den. Anyone caught outside the den, by Bill or by the cameras, would be punished. It was the first thing the puppies learned, before they were ever allowed to join the older wolves. Never let the moonlight touch you. He'd broken the rule running from the guns, from the grave of his family. He'd broken the rule running from Austin. But that had been different, hadn't it? Misae clambered clumsily over a pile of cardboard boxes, pushing them with his snout until he had made for himself a sort of barrier, protecting him from the world outside this tiny space. He turned in a circle and then laid down, tail tucked and ears flat, watching the silvery light that cut across the bed. Beneath his nose, soaked into the floorboards years ago, he could smell a hint of a rose perfume. Left by some other person, long before any of the familiar smells of Vanessa's life had entered this place. Bill's wife Ada wore rose perfume. The smell of roses, for the children in the puppy kennels, meant one of you might vanish that day. Ada sometimes took them. She mostly brought them back, after sticking needles to take blood or give what she called 'medicine' that put the puppies to deep sleep and left them groggy and confused upon waking. She mostly brought them back. But not always. He trembled, whining softly, but he quieted the sound as fast as he could. It was something all of them learned - how to hide from the moonlight. How to be so quiet none of the men and women inside the house could hear and think of them, decide they needed to be punished. He wasn't in the kennels any longer - and Bill was far, far away - but Misae still knew it was safer to hide. Not just for him, either. Wolves were most dangerous when the moon was full, calling on their nonhuman blood. It made them monsters - hungry, mindless killers. Everyone knew that. Bill made sure everyone knew that.

#bleeding by moonlight fic #wip #work in progress #current wip #unfinished #writing #whump #whump writing #I cannot emphasize enough to you all what a giant Evil Asshole Bill is #captivity #werewolf #werewolves #werewolf writing

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page-soobinnie · 1 year ago

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Hello 🤗🤗🤗

I just saw that you write for Strangers From Hell characters so I wanted to request dating and jealousy headcanons for Moonjo, Jongwoo, Seokyoon and Jieun separately.

I know it's a lot 😅 but there's so little contents about them. So I would really appreciate it if you would. But it's ok if you can't. Thank you anyways ❤️ ❤️

✮Them Being Jealous✮

✮Special thanks too: Anon, Moonjo, JongWoo, Seokyoon, Jieun

✮Note: Hi hello!! Thank you for requesting and being my first Request on this account I hope you enjoy it and remember you can request any time as long as it fits my rules ♡︎

✮TW: Moonjo : Psycho JongWoo : Jealousy : Yandere themes : mentions of murder : mentions of a pervert : teeth (Moonjo) : gender of reader is not specified : creepy man in Seokyoon's : Jongwoos boss being weird :

✮Taglist: No one yet but you can join by clicking this link and commenting the category you want or dming me or sending an ask

©Yawnzzznnn do not steal or copy my work

9-11-23

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥Moonjo

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥Oh boy... He is very protective and Obsessive so he won't let you out Eden without him and the only time he leave leaves is for work so you don't really get to leave maybe once(1) or thrice(3) a week even then your not allowed to look at someone or speak to anyone that's not him

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥So if he was to get jealous it would be of someone at Eden no it's not the pervert or the twins, but instead let's say it's Seokyoon

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥I mean Seokyoon is young and cute who wouldn't fall for him, although you already had Moonjo you couldn't deny the little butterflies whenever he smiled at you.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥Moonjo isn't stupid he saw how shy you get around Seokyoon so before bed he brought it up to you "Yn" he said "do you have somthing to tell me?" He continued confused you shook your head "oh no?" He mocked "so you don't feel anything when Seokyoon looks at you? You didn't think I noticed how shy and giggly you get when he smiles at you?" He spoke his voice raising every word, in response you gasped "it's not like that" you say Moonjo wasn't buying it "it's not like that?" He scoffed and looked at the door

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥"fine if you like Seokyoon so much" he mumbled rushing out the door with a familiar syringe in his hand you knew you couldn't stop him and if you tried too it'll make it worse on your end

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳Later that night Moonjo walked through the door with a bracelet filled to the brim with teeth "here these are Seokyoon's" he said trying to put the bloody bracelet on you in response you jerked your hand away looking up at your face he gave you the crazed smile before setting Seokyoon's teeth down on the table "now to take care of you"

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥JongWoo

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥Its no secret that JongWoo has an attitude with people he can't stand or that annoy him or weird him out

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥The two of you were at his work place you visiting to give him emotional support because of the things he's told you about Eden and how scared he was

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥"Yn" he said causing you to raise your head from his shoulder "do me a favor and get documents from there" he said pointing at a file cabinet through a glass window after describing the kind he needs you walked to the file cabinet and bent down to search

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥Unknown to your knowledge you've attracted a viewer the quiet guy who sits next to JongWoo was not so subtly starring at your butt

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥"Yah" Jongwoo said grabbing the attention of everyone in the room including you "dont stare at my partner like that" he said the guy looked around a bit embarrassed "wait what happened" you said coming back with what JongWoo needed JongWoo snatched the file from you before grabbing your arm and forcing you back to your seat on the other side of him

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥"I caught him starring at your butt" he said loud enough for everyone to hear you gasped before you heard giggling "that's gross" you heard the girl next to you mumble the guy looked down "your not even going to apologize?" JongWoo said standing up from his chair getting ready to grab the dudes keyboard you were quick to stop JongWoo

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥"Don't your gonna get yourself in trouble" you mumbled holding on to his hands JongWoo scoffed "I don't care he needs to apologize" JongWoo said snatching his hand away from you "yah!" He said the guy refusing to look at him

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥"what's going on out here?" The big boss said coming out his office "JongWoo caught him starring at yn's butt" the girl said next you in a disgusted tone "are you not going to apologize?" JongWoo scoffed "yah asshole!" JongWoo yelled kicking his chair the guy flinched "JongWoo!" You gasped "stop Yn" he said trying to pull his hands away from you "dont jeopardize your job for me" you said pulling him into a hug hoping to calm him down

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥JongWoo visibly relaxed before wrapping his arms around your waist "your more important to me than this job" he whispered you sighed "baby please I dont want to see you suffer because some hentai loving asshole can't keep his eyes to himself" you said rubbing his back JongWoo slightly giggled "I love you" he said swaying the two of you back and forth "I know" you said hearing him slightly gasp before pinching your back you giggled "I love you too now let's get you back to work" you said the rest of his time working there JongWoo had a really bad attitude towards the guy

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥Seokyoon

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥Seokyoon is a very understanding person he prefers to look on the bright side of things which means he hardly ever gets jealous

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥Hes more protective of you like let's say you go to a bar with him after he begged you too, the two of you were relaxing having a good time cuddled up to one another in the corner kissing every two seconds Seokyoon stood up saying he had to use the toilet he promised to be fast and when Seokyoon makes a promise he'll keep it

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥While waiting for your boyfriend a random man comes and sits Infront of you "are you alone?" He asked eyeing your body you shifted uncomfortably in your seat "no-no I'm here with my boyfriend" you said quietly "boyfriend?" The man laughed "you mean that kid that walked to the bathroom?" He said acting like he just said the funniest thing in the world "Seokyoon isn't a kid don't call him that and please leave me alone" you said fear washing away replacing with irritation

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥In response the man laughed "you could date a real man" he said emphasizing 'real' you scoffed "I told you I have a boyfriend" you said leaning back in your chair slightly jumping when you felt a familiar hand touch your shoulder "besides your not much of a real man if you can't take a hint" Seokyoon hissed out towards the man

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥The tone in Seokyoons voice was something you never heard before the man gulped "sorry" he said standing up before rushing away. You and Seokyoon sighed in unison before you both bust out laughing after a minute or two Seokyoon sat back in his chair on the right side of you trapping you between him and the wall again

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥"Sorry I couldn't get here faster baby" he said playing with your fingers "it's fine I just wanted him gone he stank" you jokes scrunching up your nose Seokyoon giggled before leaning in to kiss you

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥Jieun

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥Jieun is a pouty type of jealous like if your paying too much attention to another girl that isn't her she'll pout and latch herself to your arm

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥when the two of you leave that conversation she'll speak on it "you know she was flirting right?" She mumbled "that's why I left as soon as possible I don't need her I have an amazing girlfriend right here a clingy but adorable one too" you said ripping your arm out her hold in order to hug her "oh whatever" she said wrapping her arms around your waist

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥Jieun needs reassurance so you being the amazing partner you are made sure she gets that assurance

#strangers from hell #kdrama #yandere themes #sfh #strangers from hell x reader #strangers from hell one shots #strangers from hell imagines #sfh x reader #sfh one shots #sfh imagines #sfh head cannons #seo moonjo #yoon jongwoo #kim jieun #kang seokyoon

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justmochi · 4 months ago

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OA ENTERTAINMENT uploaded: EDEN - The Making of 'WHO AM I' Documentary

Eden rubs her eyes with her fingers, checking out her puffy face in the mirror. “Good morning,” She whispers to the camera before pointing her phone screen towards it. “It’s currently four a.m. It is going to be our very first day in the studio recording for my first mini album.”

She quickly brushes her teeth and washes her face. She applies toner pads before whispering again. “I am very excited, but also anxious. It’s gonna be my first release working with an entirely new team, but I’m confident the results are going to be great. I managed to get about three hours of sleep, but we shouldn’t be recording too many vocals on the first day. I’m hoping it’ll be pretty chill as we create a roadmap for what we’re going to accomplish.”

She slouches over the kitchen counter, waiting for her coffee to brew. “I’d usually head around the corner to the cafe near our apartment, but it is four a.m. So I’m just gonna make a quick coffee and order breakfast when everything starts opening up.”

The video cuts to Eden kissing her fingertips, proceeding to press it against the top of a teddy bear. “Gotta give Younghui a goodbye kiss before I leave.”

She fastens her seatbelt before taking a sip of her coffee. “It’s kinda weird seeing me drive, right?”

“We’ve made it to the studio. I’ll see you inside!”

[WORKAHOLIC]

“I look back on my career and decisions I’ve made and always ask myself, “Is this really what I want? Is it worth it?” I may be a bit greedy, but is it so wrong to want more for myself?

“I just really wanted to interpret how young workers are faced with the dilemma of either working hard or enjoying life. So if you’re struggling, just know that I acknowledge you and all your hard work. If you’re not where you wanna be in life right now, that’s okay! Take it one day at a time, and make some changes! Lay out a roadmap in where you want to see yourself in a year and stick to it. Don’t be discouraged from reality and live in the moment. One day, I wanna hear all about it.”

[HAIR DOWN]

“I think this song is, in a way, a continuation of Workaholic. It’s more fun! Sometimes I just need to forget about my deadlines, let loose and live my life. Life is too short so you have to make the most of it.”

Eden has her hands on her hips, putting all her weight on one leg as the producer messes around with the mixing. She notices the studio door open behind him with her peripheral vision. She realizes it’s Jennie with takeout bags. Both of their faces light up when their eyes meet. Eden has to put her headphones on the stand before she can exit the recording room.

“Hey!” Eden hugs her member once she sets the food down. It had been a couple weeks since they last saw each other.

“How are you doing? Is everything comfortable for you here?”

“Oh, I love it. We’re getting a lot of work done.” She extends her hand, patting the back of his chair.

“I’ll let you two chit chat. I need to make a few calls.” He makes a few clicks with the mouse and then gets up to exit the room.

Jennie smiles towards her, opening the takeout bags and reaching in. “I know you’re working extra hard so I got us some good food.”

She hands Eden her favorite cold noodles, while also taking out her own order. They get themselves situated before sitting down and taking their first bite. The girls talk about how good the food is, while making small talk of what the day has offered to them so far.

“So what are you working on now?” Jennie wipes her mouth with a napkin.

“Well, let me show you.” Eden puts her chopsticks down, pushing herself towards the computer and finding a part in the song to showcase to her.

Jennie listens attentively, swaying her head back and forth. The instrumental and voice guide are the only things done but it still sounds very nice.

“And then I have two options for the second verse, one in English and the other Korean.” She clicks away and plays each version of the verse, watching Jennie’s reactions.

“I like it! They’re both very nice.”

“We haven’t decided which one to go for. Which do you like more?” Eden stops the playback, turning in her swivel chair to face the woman.

Jennie purses her lips for a second, pondering. “Well, they’re both very pretty, and I don’t know who’s all working on this one but I think the Korean verse would make it more ‘you’. Do you get what I’m saying?”

“I do.” Eden sighs and clicks her tongue, tilting her head before making more adjustments. “That settles it then.”

“You’re using the Korean verse?”

“Yep.”

“Don’t you have to discuss it with your team?”

Eden slides back over to her, smiling at Jennie. “You are my team. And I trust your judgment.”

They both smile at each other lovingly.

“I’m so proud of how far you’ve come,” Jennie squeezes her knee. “I’m so glad you have your freedom now. I’m just happy you’re doing what YOU want to do and it’s not being altered. I haven’t seen you this carefree in a while.”

“Jennie… Don’t make me cry.”

[CAFFEINE]

“The melody was the first thing to come from this song. I made it up in the passenger seat on the way home from a drive-in movie, actually. Do you ever just listen to music and think ‘this would be such a good song to play in the car, windows rolled down and feeling cool air through your hair’. That was my goal with this song. It feels very retro and nostalgic. I’m very happy with the end result.”

[SUNFLOWER GIRL]

Eden smiles, pulling her legs up on the chair to her chest and resting her chin on her knee. “I don’t really need to explain this one. It’s simple and genuine and full of love. And I’m happy. I’m really happy with how it came out.”

[HATE TO BE LAME]

“This song is about wanting to tell someone that you love them but are scared to. For me, a lot of it stems from my past relationships. You give a lot of yourself up when you say I love you for the first time. And the first time for me, it was very real. I thought it was very real for the longest time.

“The ideal way to feel when saying I love you is to be happy. But for me, I was filled with more fear and anxiety. It took a very long time to allow myself to love again. But even longer for me to express my love. I was extremely cautious about the next time I would tell someone I loved them.

“I always wonder what I would say to my past self who just finished writing this. She was so paranoid and small. But she was also very worthy of love, no matter how much she thought she was not. She didn't know that when the day finally came, it would be the easiest thing in the world. As simple as breathing.

“I wrote this many years ago so it’s just been sitting in my notes app, collecting dust. It wasn’t until earlier this year that I reached out to Finneas. I’ve always been a very big fan of his works. The first thing he sent me back was amazing and that’s the take that we use in the song. His verse was absolutely perfect and it really solidified the song as a whole.

{First time listening to Finneas’ take.}

Eden sets up the camera on the table, her hands shaking as she presses on the audio file. “I’m so nervous, I don’t know if I can press play.”

She takes a few deep breaths. “Okay.” She clicks on the play button, staring at her lap as his voice plays through the speakers. Her eyes widen as soon as it sets in that he’s singing along to the melody of her song with his own lyrics. She covers her mouth with her hands, squealing as the clip ends.

“Oh my god.” She replays it. “Oh my god.

“I gotta chill out, I can’t focus on his lyrics.” She stands to her feet, pressing her palms to her cheeks as she plays it once again. She has to replay it six times before it’s engraved in her brain. She looks at her producer friend, giving him a definitive look. “That’s it. Like it’s literally perfect. We just have to record our parts together and it’s done.”

[FIRST TIME]

Eden set up her camera at the kitchen table, soon rubbing her eyes with the palms of her hands. She let out a sigh and sniffled. “This song is from twenty eighteen or so, the darkest time in my life. I keep on forgetting it exists for obvious reasons. And I know I shouldn’t keep revisiting it if it keeps resurfacing past trauma, but I think in order to heal, I need to tackle it and make something of it. The whole concept of this album is to humanize myself and it would be wrong of me to just lock this song away. There could be someone out there that resonates with it as much as I do.”

She wipes her eyes with her fingers, nodding towards someone offscreen. A tiny smile appears on her face. “It was bothering me all day while recording and arranging, ‘Should this make the cut or not?’ but I think I just needed to catch my breath and think it over, get some reassurance. I feel much better now.

“Well, time to sleep so we can record this track tomorrow.”

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signalterminated · 2 days ago

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teeth of god comic spoilers below, just getting out my thoughts. do NOT click this readmore if you haven't read it yet.

pacing wise, this comic is an absolute mess. i see each intended story beat but the art style itself makes the pages hard to follow, which is not a knock against the artists themselves. they're very, very talented, and i'm unsure what directions they were given for the layouts here and how much freedom they had in that regard.

it's also entirely devoid of text beyond incredibly hard to read notes from the director. if this was a creative decision, it was a bad choice, because it's the only context we're given for anything that's happening. handwritten notes are fine but i was struggling to squint to make out anything legible. if this is vessel's handwriting, then dude. ask a friend to write these for you please lol

there was also a surprising integration here with alex tillbrook's creatures from TMBTE but they have taken some massive artistic liberties with their designs. i don't know why, if this was on purpose or due to a licensing issue (which would be odd because it's all under the Sleep Token IP?), but it was something i noticed and found a bit odd. that being said, the chokehold creature looks fucking adorable in this comic with his smiley sun face lol, i appreciated that change

the problem i'm finding with it as a whole is that the action happens at a frantic breakneck pace and doesn't leave much space for a reader to actually take in what's happening. i'm having to go back and doublecheck that i'm reading the panels in the right order. there were a couple of pages that actually did this, setting up environment to let you see the before and after the lunar anomaly broke through, which i appreciated.

and again. the actual quality of the writing and the art here is great. that isn't the issue at all. it's more of an organizational thing and a coherency thing, which makes sense if anyone working on this project has less experience in composing an entire graphic novel.

though despite that pacing problem, i was able to mostly understand the primary story beats and they more or less confirmed my suspicions: this new life on earth isn't innately hostile all the time, and in fact one of the soldiers pats a mutated doggie on the head for being a good boy. these new life forms are embroiled in their own scuffles, their own wars, and are struggling to define their identities with the life they've been gifted.

i had an inkling from the getgo that this is the direction vessel wanted to take with the comic -- fear not of just death, but of a life past death that leaves you unrecognizable, and alone, and confused. permanently altered by what horrors you've seen. it's on the nose in that regard but it's a concept that i'm also fascinated by and enamored with in cosmic horror.

and in that way i feel even more attached to vessel as a creator because i feel like mentally we're teasing at the same spheres of the genre. there's a panel near the end of the director literally embracing the reaper figure (that i've been calling eden), accepting union with the very entity that has wiped away humanity as we knew it.

the final notes from the not!director are almost painfully hard to read but they give the largest clues of all towards how vessel views sleep as a god in this fictional narrative he's cooked up and i very much enjoy how he's chosen to approach it. the writing itself veers into this stream of consciousness back and forth, a mental pingpong between the director and the entity that's merged itself with him, which is just chef's kiss to me.

also, this is speculation at best, but i think it might be hinting that vessel WAS the director before sleep joined with him? i'm not entirely sure. there were cultists wearing face masks which i think is the most confusing part of this whole thing. why are they not transformed and instead helping the lunar anomaly? they have superhuman senses and can fight armed men in blindfolds like something out of daredevil. the whole thing feels VERY 90's in terms of its presentation, which isn't a bad thing. it's just funny to see how retro its whole look is lol

all in all, i really like this comic, despite being as flawed as it is. i think the concepts sleep token is exploring here are a nice, refreshing take on the invasion of eldritch forces: there's a desperation and loneliness in the unknown, and it toes the line between romantic and horrific in that regard. it's the epitome of transcendental horror.

#sleep token #teeth of god graphic novel #teeth of god graphic novel spoilers #tog comic spoilers #tog graphic novel spoilers #trying to think of any other possible warning tags for filter purposes that could go here #let me know if i've missed one

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imagine-darksiders · 1 year ago

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Eden's Heir, chapter 3.

A Way Out

Words: 6219

Summary: You're not on Earth, and that truth is as devastating as it is implausible. You have to get out of this Void. But there's only one demon who can offer an exit. Unfortunately for you, there's also a certain Horseman who' deems it necessary to keep you close, for curiosity's sake.

----

There is very little dignity in fear.

When allowed to fester, even the tiniest pinch of it will start to bulge and swell inside you until it’s too large to be contained by the churning walls of your stomach. So, instead, it spreads through your bloodstream, eating up the space inside you like an infection as it strips away reason, humanity, and even hope.

Especially hope.

You’re not proud that the unexpected knowledge of your true whereabouts sends you into an immediate downward spiral of terror, but in the absence of any better ideas, you think it’s at least a little justified that you promptly stagger away from the otherworldly beings, drop to your backside on the cold, hard ground, gather your knees to your chest and proceed to come apart right there in front of an honest-to-goodness demon, and two Horsemen of the Apocalypse…

You’d always heard that wedding days are enormously stressful, but this is just ridiculous.

You’ve retreated to the precarious edge of Vulgrim’s plateau, not close enough that you’re worried about accidentally toppling over into the misty void, but at least far enough from War, Strife and the leery merchant that at least a diminutive fraction of your unease is lifted.

The blood on your arm has already dried to dark, crackling flakes, and it’s through unseeing, bulging eyes that you stare at the raised line of flesh wrapped in an arc over your forearm.

There’s one startling realisation plaguing your mind more emphatically than any other.

This isn’t Earth. This isn’t Earth.

A whirling onslaught of fresh, new terrors start to haunt you, terrors you’ve never even had to think about until now. You can’t find a voice for all the questions that clutter your mind. And you don’t pay much attention to the set of watchful, amber eyes that have remained glued to you ever since you stumbled dazedly over to the fringe of the floating platform.

Strife is abuzz with questions of his own, questions he’d readily bombard you with were it not for the vacant stare you’re currently aiming at the wound his brother left across your delicate flesh.

Grimacing, the older Nephilim twists himself sideways, keeping one eye on you and the other on War and the demon, both of whom seem more eager than Strife to turn the conversation back to other matters. Namely, business.

“Now then,” Vulgrim announces, clicking the tips of his long, curved claws together in eager anticipation, “I think it’s safe to assume you boys haven’t come here just to have me confirm the identity of this lost, little human…”

War’s lip curls unpleasantly, as if the mere act of even speaking to the merchant turns his stomach. Vehement, he growls, “Our work doesn’t concern you, demon.”

But Vulgrim, ever discerning, simply draws his mouth upwards to reveal the gleaming maw of fangs that sit crookedly behind his lips – a mocking reflection of War’s sneer.

“Oh, but it must,” the demon drawls knowingly, “Why else would you be here?”

War’s expression further twists as if he’s tasting poison on his tongue, and Strife has to stifle a smirk.

Drawing himself up a little closer to the demon’s height, War bites out, “Samael sent us here…” Trailing off to look Vulgrim up and down, he narrows his eyes and adds, “Maybe it was to collect your head.”

Far from threatened however, the conniving demon merely raises a single, slender finger and wags it back and forth in a manner that sets War’s teeth on edge.

“Ah ah ah~” he admonishes, “Careful, Horseman… Show the right temperament and I can be of… service to you. But first, you must be of service to me.”

Strife has to resist the urge to throw his head back and groan. He probably ought to have seen this coming a mile off.

Can’t spend five minutes in the presence of a demon without them angling for a favour…

War, it seems, has also cottoned on to the merchant’s less than subtle hint.

The Horseman’s armoured shoulders almost double in size as he bristles angrily, spitting, “The Council does not negotiate with demons. If you try to take advantage of them-“

“-And by extension, us-!” Strife chimes in.

“-Then there will be consequences.”

His latest threat complete, War narrows his ice-blue glare up at the hovering demon, who, to his dismay, only barks out a dark, mocking laugh and spreads his gangling arms out wide, as if to invite the Horseman to carry out the Council’s apparent ‘consequences.’

“Your Council has no power here,” Vulgrim drones, eyes as sharp as a whetted blade, “This realm is mine, and therefore subject to my rules. If anything were to happen to me, it would certainly prove tragic for you. You’d be trapped here in the void. For all of eternity.”

Strife’s trigger finger twitches of its own accord. He loathes that the demon has a point.

Just then, from the corner of his gaze, the eagle-eyed Horseman catches the rapid movement of your head snapping upright.

Curious as to what’s drawn you from your catatonic state, Strife swivels his helm in your direction, perking up when he sees you clambering awkwardly to your feet, struggling to move your puffy skirts aside.

He’d welcome you back to the present, but your stare is fixed with disconcerting precision on the demon floating behind him.

“Wait, wait a second,” you fumble out in a rush, taking a single, daring step closer, your cheeks still glistening with tears, “What did you say? Y-You’re the only one who can get me out of here?”

The mention of an exit… The hint of an escape…

A tiny flutter of hope drifts free of your soul and you latch onto it with greedy hands, like a child snatching at a butterfly, desperate.

It’s the only force in the world that could lure you closer to the titanic Horseman and their implausible acquaintance. That first, tentative step turns into several more, though you’re quick to freeze in place when three pairs of eyes flick in your direction, sending a rush of adrenaline racing up your spine.

You’ve never felt more like prey in your life.

The demon’s stare especially unnerves you. It seems to eat right into you like acid, hungry and all-consuming. His mouthful of teeth holds your focus as he lifts blackened lips into what you can only assume is a terrible grin.

“Now do I have your attention?” he asks smugly, tossing his gaze back over to the Horsemen, neither of whom give you the impression that they’re as hopeful about the latest revelation as you are.

After a moment, War bunches his hands into fists and tears his eyes from you, turning to glare down the merchant instead. Strife’s attention, however, remains locked on you for a further second before he too throws a dark look up at the grinning Vulgrim.

A shaky breath gushes past your lips once you’re no longer in their sights. It feels as though you’ve just been released from a cast of stone. For just a moment, you spare an absent thought to those Greeks of ancient myth who stared down the legendary gorgon, Medusa. You think you might finally understand, at least a little, what such a fate must have been like. The power of a predator’s gaze is not to be underestimated; it seems.

Vulgrim is still leering right back at the Horsemen with an awfully superior smirk plastered across his cragged jaws, a look that has Strife’s jaw clenching.

“Patience ain’t my brother’s thing,” he growls, “Or mine, now that I think about it… So, whatever point you’re trying to make, make it.”

The demon’s smirk shrinks at the curt tone, but nonetheless, he inclines his head and begins to explain. “Fine. The Lords of Hell are forever in conflict,” he says, “They seek power. Control… Lucifer and Samael most of all…”

You can’t help yourself from jumping in with an embarrassing squeak of alarm. “Lucifer!?” you parrot, once again earning their attention, “A-As in, like, the Devil? Satan!?”

In the span of a second, Strife’s irritation at Vulgrim lifts to make way for amusement at your interruption. “You know another Lucifer?” he quips, grinning down at you from behind his visor, “Big guy won’t be happy someone’s tryin’ to steal his thunder.”

A wave of anxious heat surges up the back of your neck and you throw a hand up to curl trembling fingers around a fistful of hair. “Oh my god!” you blurt, chest heaving, “Is this Hell!? Am I in Hell right now!?”

In response, Strife lets out a rough snort whilst Vulgrim merely offers you a shake of his great, ghastly head. “I’m afraid not,” the demon laments, casting a morose glance at the void surrounding his lonely plateau, “Sadly, Hell is several planes south of this one.”

For several, arduous seconds, you can do nothing but stare up at him in incredulous silence as your brain chugs along slowly, attempting to wrestle with the bombshell that not only does the Devil purportedly exist, but so too does Hell itself. You’re looking right at a demon, after all. It would stand to reason that a place of perdition exists too.

In contrast to the magnitude of the knowledge you’ve just been made privy to, a thin, rasping, “What?” is all that creaks out of your throat.

The question is answered by a low huff from War, who fixes you in his stern glower and rumbles, “This does not concern you, human.”

Gulping, you retreat a step back, almost tripping over your dress in the process as your eyes flit up to the broadsword strapped across the behemoth’s back. Your mouth dries at the very fresh memory of what he’d done to you the last time he paid you any attention.

Unbeknownst to you, Strife’s ears twitch at the click of your heeled shoes on the stone, and the catch in your breath.

Folding a pair of heavily armoured arms across his sizeable chest, he too takes a step away from War before ambling sideways, parking himself stubbornly between you and his brother like a living, breathing blockade. “Hey, come on. Lay off,” he retorts, jutting the chin of his helm out at War, “She’s just as lost here as we are.”

Just like that, the younger Nephilim’s expression shifts, his hardened expression lifting to a quizzical look that he aims at his brother, as if even he hadn’t expected Strife to come to your defence.

Still, despite his surprise, he’s quick to recover his wits.

You, in the meantime, can only stare agape at the armoured expanse of a back suddenly standing in your way.

“We are not lost,” War insists, furrowing his brow, “We’ve just been waylaid.”

“On the contrary, Horseman…” Vulgrim’s slimy tone encourages War’s expression to darken even further. Raising a slender finger into the air, the demon continues, “You are both precisely where you need to be.”

With a quiet scoff, Strife shifts his weight onto the opposite leg, throwing Vulgrim a nasty glare. “Figures you’d know more than you’ve been letting on…”

You almost jump a mile when War gnashes his teeth at the merchant and booms, “Out with it! You know why we were sent here. I demand that you tell us!”

“Demand…” Vulgrim clicks his tongue derisively, but after a moment, he concedes to heave his shoulders into a shrug and rolls his green eyes towards the foggy void above him. “Oh, very well,” he sighs, “Samael sent you here because he has learned that Lucifer is attempting something… unexpected.”

The mention of the latter’s name nearly sends you scampering back to whimper at the edge of the abyss.

Plainly oblivious to the nausea churning in your guts, Vulgrim continues, “He is extending a hand to his enemies, Horsemen. Offering something very desirable in exchange for their…. cooperation.”

“And Moloch is one of those enemies,” Strife hedges, though his tone indicates that it’s far from a question.

Suddenly, Vuglrim drifts backwards, a move that has you ducking into the shadow of the metal titan standing with his back to you, but the demon pays your flinch no mind, simply folding his lanky arms across his chest and cocking a sly grin down at Strife.

“Ah, nothing in the world is without cost,” he tells the Horseman, voice dripping with pompous bile, “If you wish to know more, we must enter into an agreement. You recall that I asked you for a favour?”

Now, up until today, you’d been of the entirely sane opinion that demons only existed in the pages of story books, or behind the screens of televisions and computers. But if there’s one thing you’ve learned from pop culture that could apply here, it’s that striking a deal with a demon would be about as sensible as sticking your head into the jaws of a starving bear.

The Horsemen, it appears, share the very same sentiment.

Strife tilts his helm to send a hostile glare up at Vulgrim, and you could swear you hear something that sounds so much like thunder rumbling away inside his chest.

Even still, War’s objection is far louder than his brother’s.

Peeking around Strife’s side, you observe as the larger Horseman’s entire body goes taut and rigid with sudden animosity, and he begins peeling his lips apart to bare a set of gleaming, white teeth. The animosity, though it isn’t directed at you, still draws the blood away from the surface of your skin, leaving you several shades paler than your typical complexion.

Vulgrim, in contrast, either doesn’t notice the dramatic shift in their demeanour, or he simply doesn’t care.

Bold as brass, he presses on. “A precious artifact has been stolen from me,” he laments with a roll of his wrist, “I sought Samael’s assistance in the matter, but…” Trailing off, he regards the pair of bristling behemoths with a glint in his sharp, green eyes. “Perhaps,” he adds thoughtfully, “You could recover it.”

Dead silence pervades the void for a long, awfully uncomfortable length of time whilst you send fleeting glances between each of the Horsemen, up to the horned demon, and back again.

“Know what?” Strife pipes up without warning, dropping a hand to rest casually on the barrel of a pistol, “At this point, I’m more interested in killing you than helping you…”

Such a nonplussed hint at murder throws your heart up into your throat, and you blanch, gaping incredulously at the spiked, black hair jutting from the Horseman’s helm.

You’re starting to deduce that Vulgrim must be used to such threats. How else could he stare down a man with a gun that size without flinching?

“That would profit neither of us,” he deadpans. Then, raising his voice to an enticing lilt, he adds, “It’ll be worth your while~!”

Strife’s shoulders jump with a sceptical grunt.

“It’s true!” Vulgrim retorts, “I give you my word.”

“Oh! Your word?” Strife echoes sarcastically, “Well, why didn’t you say so! We’ll do it!”

Blinking, the demon quirks a brow ridge. “Really?”

“Sure!”

Everyone, yourself included, stares at Strife in silence for a time, each of you expecting him to throw his head back with a laugh and tell Vulgrim that he’s joking. But as the seconds tick by in which Strife merely peers up at the demon without a word, you start to get the impression that he is not, in fact, joking.

After it becomes clear that his brother isn’t about to rescind his offer to actually help the merchant, War bodily whirls about to face him and scoffs, “You can’t be serious?”

Strife’s metal shoulders rise and fall in a shrug. “Look at where we are, War,” he mutters, swinging his mask in an arc to take in the void around you, “If you have a better idea, I’m all ears.”

Cowering behind him, you nervously cast a glance around his elbow again to see War’s face screw up beneath his crimson hood, ice-blue gaze flitting sideways to throw a look out at the darkness beyond the platform. With each passing second, you see his eyebrows knit closer and closer together, forming a solid line of white hair upon his strong forehead.

Though he’s loathe to admit it, War can see the sense in his brother’s words.

If they are to leave this place and continue their mission for the Charred Council, they’ll need the help of a demon to do it.

Spitting a Nephilim curse that would have Death reprimanding him with a smack around the head, War snatches his glare to the opposite side of the plateau, steadfastly refusing to meet Strife’s eye.

Sensing the Horseman’s acquiescence, Vulgrim’s toothy maw stretches into a too-wide smile, showing off fangs that glint like knives when they catch the murky light.

“Hah,” he declares triumphantly, “I will provide a serpent hold for travel.”

“A serpent hole?” you whisper under your breath.

You’ve heard of worm holes before, but serpent holes?

Frankly, you find it hard to conjure up the effort to actually care what kind of holes he’ll be providing.

If this ‘serpent hole’ means a way out of this place and back to that drab, terrifying church, you’ll take it.

“Well, all right.” Strife declares suddenly, and before you can move, the massive, metal man steps to one side, revealing you in full to the eyes of his brother and the demon. “Vague mission. Unknown dangers. Undetermined reward… What’s not to love?”

In response, War grunts, and then, to your dismay, his gaze lands on you, and you’re once again rendered stuck, pinned beneath the heavy weight of his preternatural glare.

Even with a demon hovering close by, it’s War’s attention that leaves you feeling the most exposed. The fresh, pink scar on your arm begins to itch.

“What are we to do with this human?” he mutters to Strife, who plants his hands on his hips and tilts his helm at you, not unlike how an inquisitive bird peers at something shiny.

“Just a suggestion,” Vulgrim cuts in eagerly, “You could leave her here.”

Letting out a fierce gasp at his words, you recoil from the salivating demon as if you expect him to pounce at any moment.

“Yeah, no,” Strife retorts for you, “Nice try. But that ain’t happening.”

Somehow, War’s perpetual frown manages to grow even more severe as he snaps, “You’re not suggesting we take her with us?”

You have to admit, you concur with the hooded giant. You’re not a fan of Strife’s idea either, even if it does mean getting out of this god-forsaken ‘void.’

Exhaling roughly through his nose, Strife hunches his massive shoulders and replies, “Why not?”

“Because this human is none of our concern!”

“So… what? You’d rather just leave her to be eaten by tall, dark and gruesome over here?”

Vulgrim hums a note of disdain as Strife jerks his chin in his direction.

Staring at his brother, War’s expression turns calculating, reminiscent of the way he looks over battleplans and strategies before a fight. “You’re being awfully insistent about this.”

“Oh, come on, War!“ Strife groans, slumping his shoulders and throwing his head back dramatically, "You’re not even a little curious? Don’t you wanna know what we were fighting for? This human is one of the reasons the Charred Council ordered us to murder our-!”

“-Do not dwell on the past, brother,” the enormous Horseman suddenly cuts him off, his nostrils flaring wide as he scowls down at his sibling, a warning hidden just beyond bared teeth, “The Charred Council gave us new orders. They are all you should be concerned about.” Throwing you a suspicious glare, he adds, “This… human is a distraction we cannot afford.”

“Hmph.” Eyes narrowed to razor-thin slits, Strife folds his arms petulantly across his silver chest and mutters, “Sounds like a distraction is exactly what you’re lookin’ for.”

Leather bracers strain with an ominous creak as War’s fists clench slowly at his sides. “What was that?” he challenges.

Giving his shoulders a nonchalant shrug, Strife just flaps a hand at his brother, as if to casually waft away the larger Horseman’s aggression, “Nothin’. Nothin’…”

Growling, War snaps his head towards Vulgrim, who has done little else but hover nearby with his eyes trained eagerly on the brothers and their quarrel, looking thoroughly entertained by the whole situation.

“Are you waiting for an invitation, demon!?” he snaps, “Summon a portal.”

Blowing out a hefty sigh, Vulgrim throws his hands up compliantly and swivels around in midair until he’s facing the centre of his raised dais, grumbling incomprehensibly under his breath as his wings give an agitated little flutter.

Impatient, War simply huffs, growing still when the back of his neck begins to prickle. There are eyes upon him that aren’t his brother’s.

With a sudden shift, the Horseman twists his head sideways and anchors it in your direction, subjecting you to an undeserved glare from beneath the lip of his hood.

Choking on a gasp, you drop your eyes to the floor near your feet quick as a flash. You’re so focused on not meeting the gaze of the crimson-clad giant that you fail to notice his brother boring a hole into the side of your head, regarding you with a pensive expression.

Obviously, leaving you here isn’t an option. Not least because frankly, he has way too many questions.

But he needs War on his side.

So, breathing a sigh, he raises his head to meet his brother’s eye and tries a different approach. “What about the Balance?”

And just like that, War’s body goes tense at his brother’s soft question. The haunting, blue stare you’ve found yourself caught up in starts to falter, drifting away from the pink scar running over your arm and moving towards the older Horseman. “Strife…” he begins tiredly.

There are very few beings in the Universe who could claim to know War as well as his brother. But one doesn’t have to know War deeper than surface level to see that honour and duty are among the youngest Horseman’s chief principals.

“The Council said Lucifer’s plotting humanity’s downfall as we speak…” Strife continues, unhurried.

Blinking rapidly, you forget your terror of War for a second and throw your head up again to blurt, “I- He- He’s what?”

“And these little guys-“ Strife jerks the chin of his helm at you, staring hard at the younger Nephilim. “-Are integral to the Balance.”

He doesn’t miss how War’s lips tighten into a thin, displeased line.

‘Gotcha.’

Though he knows his brother would have no way of seeing it behind his helm, Strife holds back the triumphant little smirk that tries to angle across his mouth. Just to be safe.

“You’d protect humanity,” he presses, knowing full-well that something is about to go ‘clunk’ in his brother’s mind, “But not a human?”

Lo and behold, no sooner has he asked the question than War’s steely countenance drops by a fraction – A fraction so negligible that only the sharpest eyes would be able to spot it.

It just so happens that Strife has the sharpest eyes in the Universe.

By his own claim, sure. But still.

“I don’t know what’s more concerning,” War grunts, shaking his hooded head, “The fact that you listened to what the Council said. Or the fact that you actually have a point.”

Strife stares hard at his brother for a long moment whilst you give them both a look of abject horror, pulse jumping in your temple.

“Woah,” the older Nephilim utters at last, “Did you just admit that I have a point…? Can I get that in writing?”

Slipping his eyes shut, the largest Horseman inhales deeply through his nose and exhales a breath in a noisy rush through his gritted teeth. “We’ll take her,” he concedes at last.

Straightening his back, Strife innocently asks, “What?”

“We’ll take her.”

You’d probably throw up at the declaration if you weren’t so irrationally concerned about staining the wedding dress.

Eyes as cold as tundra frost turn their attention onto you.

Fittingly, you feel the blood in your veins turn to ice.

“Human,” he growls, “You’re coming with us.”

“I-I don’t… want to…?” you croak weakly.

Slinging his chin sideways, Strife asks, “You’d rather stay here with this guy?”

With an audible gulp, you throw a glance at Vulgrim, only to find his gleaming, green eyes peering down at you hungrily.

Recoiling, you pull a face and send a beseeching, watery plea to the Horseman. “I-I just want to get out of here.”

“There, see?” Strife exclaims, jabbing a thumb down at you and grinning up at his brother, “She wants to come with us.”

Aghast, you immediately start to sputter, “That is absolutely not what I meant!” The courage it takes for you to return your gaze to the looming demon is astronomical. Raising a trembling hand, you gesture floppily at him and add, “He said he can make a -a snake hole for you guys! Can’t he make one for me as well?”

“It’s serpent hole,” Vulgrim corrects with a tut, still turned towards the centre of his platform, yet he spares you a glance over his sinewy shoulder, ebony horns shimmering in the sickly light.

“Whatever!” you screech, panicked at the mere fact that he’s addressing you, “Just pick a hole, open it, and let me go home! Please!”

“Ha!” Strife barks.

Struck by the sudden urge to scold his brother - though not quite understanding why - War shoots a scathing glare at Strife before returning his attention to you again. “The only ones with the power to send you to Earth are the Charred Council,” he explains.

“Then take me to them!” you try to demand, but the squeak of your voice is frustratingly prevalent. You imagine you’re no more intimidating to these beings than a mouse is to a lion.

“Listen.”

You leap out of your skin, literally clutching your pearl necklace as Strife speaks and shifts about on his feet to face you.

“Let me tell you something right now,” he says, “There are exactly two ways to get a summoning from the Charred Council.”

Taking a heavy step towards you, he raises the first two fingers of his right hand, counting them off as he starts to explain, “The first, is if they have a new mission for us.” He drops his middle finger, wagging his remaining digit at you. “And the second, is if we finish a current mission. And seeing as we’ve just started this one…” Trailing off, he tips his chin down, peering at you expectantly, observing in silence as your expression slowly begins to crumple.

‘Shit… Can all humans pull that face?’ he grimaces to himself, ‘Might be more powerful than they look.’

In the end, War puts words to what you’ve just realised.

“We will not be summoned to the Council until our mission here is complete,” he grunts.

The weight of his words drops into your stomach, sending the whole organ plummeting down into your shoes. Wringing your hands, your thumb brushes over an abnormal band of metal resting at the base of your third finger.

Wetting your lips, you lower your eyes to the sizeable diamond engagement ring sitting prettily on your left hand. Ever so briefly, you’re struck by a memory, of the first time you showed your father the ring that Cain had given you. You almost had to call the nurse into his hospital room because he laughed so damn hard and nearly tore out his drip.

‘He trying to marry you or buy you?’ he’d wheezed after a raucous guffaw, clutching your hand with skeletal fingers, his knuckles so swollen and arthritic, the only thing you could bear to do was look away. The guilt of averting your eyes haunted you until you fell asleep that same night.

You have to clench your eyes shut with vicious force to banish the memory. You can’t think of him right now, laying there, all alone with a tube in his arm and the grimmest of prospects waiting just a few weeks down the line.

“H-how long will it take to finish your mission?” you bleat, feeling the suffocating fist of helplessness closing around your heart.

You have to get back…

“Dunno,” Strife shrugs, “Depends how much more demon bullshit we gotta take care of… Though considering recent events… I’m not hopeful for a quick resolution.”

“But I need to go home!” you bleat, twisting your fingers around a handful of your dress’s tulle, “You don’t understand – Dad’s last chemo appointment is tomorrow, a-and I’m supposed to be getting married, like… like right now!”

“I have no idea what you just said, but it all sounds very important. Which is all the more reason to get this show on the road.” Turning to face the demon behind him, Strife claps his palms together twice and barks, “Hey, Vulgrim. Serpent hole. C’mon, look lively!”

The merchant sneers, grumbling as faces the centre of his platform once more, spreading out his palms.

You give a start when a pulse of… something sours the taste of the air around you, turning dry, musty breaths into thick and acrid gulps that seem to slide across your tongue with each inhale. Instinctively, you cover your mouth.

Wind whips your veil up into a flurry of white fabric. With a graceful whirl, it blows forwards and you have to throw a hand up to catch it, sweeping it back away from your face as you stare agog at the spectacle forming in front of you.

In a word… it’s… beautiful.

In a lot of words, it’s also incredibly bright and shit-inducingly scary. It isn’t natural to see magic, not outside of a children’s birthday party or a heavily edited video online. Your eyes take it all in – the circle of azure light that swirls to life in the ground before you. Where there was once a patch of dull, grey stone, now there’s a pool – not of water, but of something that moves and flows just like it.

Your mouth hangs open as Vulgrim lowers his arms and drifts back with a beat of his vestigial wings, away from the serpent hole.

“It’s all yours, Horsemen,” he declares, bowing with a grandiose sweep of his hand, “Oh, but before you go – Do be careful. The keeper of my artefact will be, ah… less than pleased to see you.”

“No one is ever pleased to see us,” Strife grumbles, wincing at the bitter undertone that shines through just a little too brightly for his liking. Clearing his throat, he gruffly adds, “That’s kind of the idea.”

They’re Horsemen now. Dreaded enforcers of the Charred Council… Hated. Despised.

“War?” Strife brusquely addresses the larger Horseman, gesturing towards you with a jerk of his head.

Throwing his brother a heated glare, War takes a begrudging, booming step in your direction, quaking the ground beneath your feet.

You’re nearly sent toppling ass over teakettle in your haste to back-peddle away from the armoured behemoth, launching your hands out in front of you and blurting, “Woah, woah, woah! Hang on a moment!”

You very nearly faint on the spot when, against all odds, the Horseman actually pauses midstride, a single, ivory brow quirking to peer at you expectantly. You’d have thought that nothing short of a tank could make someone his size hesitate.

Sliding his gaze smoothly between the two of you, Strife has the gall to tip his helm to one side and ask, “What’s the matter, Princess?”

‘Princess’ indeed. If he wasn’t the size of a skyscraper, you’d have half a mind to smack him with your bag. As it is, you doubt the satisfaction of striking him would be worth the painful death that’d surely follow such an insult.

“I’m… I’m not going anywhere with him.” You point accusingly at War instead, though you swiftly drop your finger after he gives it a look that suggests he’d like to cut it off.

“Oh, come on, he’s not as bad as he looks,” Strife prods encouragingly, “Is this about your arm?”

Incredulous, you gape up at the Horseman for a moment before pursing your lips with a shrug, as if to compose yourself. “No, actually, I just don’t particularly like his attitude- YES OF COURSE IT’S ABOUT MY FUCKING ARM!”

“He healed it up afterwards!” Strife replies brightly, as though you’re both having a friendly debate about the weather. If anything, judging by the upward curve of his luminous eyes and his jocular tone of voice, you’d almost wager that he’s actually enjoying your little back and forth.

One of your eyelids twitches, and you have to take a moment to think of something coherent to say, but when you open your mouth, the only word that leaps out is an incredulous, “What!?”

“And besides,” Strife breezes over you as if you’d never spoken, “I’m sure he’s very sorry. Right, big man?”

Pressing your lips together dubiously, you follow Strife’s pointed gaze up to his brother, who leers back at you with his stony face set like a dark thundercloud, his chest quaking around a resonant rumble.

You can’t imagine this beast has ever apologised for anything in his life - if he’s even had the inclination to.

Trying to swallow past a lump of nerves, you glower mistrustfully at the handle of the broadsword jutting over War’s shoulder, and declare, “He can be as sorry as he likes, but he is not putting me on his shoulder!”

Pursing his lips, Strife blows out a whistle, lifting a hand to scratch idly at his jagged, ebony hair. “Well,” he shrugs, “You’re comin’ with us either way. So… You wanna step through the portal yourself, or what?”

“… Hard. Pass.”

“Oh…” His gaze darts to the ground before he flicks it up to you again, one eye squinted halfway shut. “You sure?”

“Am I sure I don’t want to be carried through a mystical worm hole by the same brute who nearly cut my arm off not five minutes ago?” you clarify, subconsciously cradling the aforementioned appendage in your opposite palm, “Yes. I’m sure.”

Something of a standoff ensues between you and Strife, the latter of whom squints down at you for several, perturbing seconds, his hand still clasping the back of his neck. Another few beats pass, measured by the steady ‘thump,’ ‘thump,’ ‘thump,’ of your heart pounding in your ears.

Sadly, the relative peace only lasts another second when Strife allows his hand flop back to his side, raising one, silver shoulder into a shrug and announcing, “All right, suit yourself!”

“Suit my-wah!?”

Without warning, the Horseman takes a sudden, lurching step towards you, and before you can back-peddle clumsily out of range, two enormous, metal hands launch out to catch you around the waist, fingers spread widely enough to envelop your heaving ribs.

Struck by a sense of déjà vu, you waste no time in bunching your hands into fists and slamming them furiously down on top of Strife’s gauntlets, succeeding at nothing beyond hurting the heels of your palms. All the same, you dig right down into the bottom of your own, personal well and manage to scoop out enough drops of courage to holler, “Don’t you dare!”

With the same effort you’d use to lift a porcelain doll, Strife simply hoists you up into the air – still kicking and flailing – and slings you over his armoured shoulder. You land with a hard jolt of pain, followed by a yelp when something sharp jabs into your stomach.

“Should’a gone with War if you wanted a comfier ride.” The Horseman curls a cumbersome arm across the seat of your dress, pressing down the layered tulle and securing you in place much like his brother had not too long ago.

“You can’t do this!” you shout, “This is-! I mean, i-it’s kidnapping!”

Strife barks out a sharp laugh as he steps up beside his brother, and together, they peer down into the blue, swirling vortex that roars with dark and ancient energies, beckoning them in.

“Kidnapping?” he parrots, deliberately jostling you on his shoulder to get a squeak out of you, “Nah, nah, nah. If anything, this is a rescue. You don’t wanna know what Vulgrim’d do to your soul if we left you here.”

Half draped over the titan’s spine, you twist your neck to the side and meet the eerie merchant’s emerald gaze. Perturbingly, you can’t quite tell if he’s grinning at you, or if he’s displaying his thrawn fangs in threat.

You shudder, and that terrible, insincere smile stretches wider.

“Ironically, she may be in less danger here than she will be in whatever demon-infested pit he’s sending us to…” War points out.

“Eh, probably.” Raising a boot into the air, Strife takes one, long stride forwards into the portal, feeling the ground fall away below his feet as his matter begins slipping towards another plane of existence. Before he disappears entirely however, he twists his helm over a shoulder to catch your wild-eyed stare, throwing you a lopsided wink once he meets it.

“But comin’ with us is gonna be way more fun.”

#Darksiders #War x reader x Strife #Darksiders genesis #Vulgrim #fear #angst #innuendos #suggestive

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prncssie · 9 months ago

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caution! mdni 5k wrdz, general fluff and normal relationship stuff, brief smut at the bottom, fingering, hobie x oc

miffy's note! this is a commission that i worked really hard on. it is for one person and one person only so enjoy it or don't! as long as she's happy I'm happy! @peachdem

it’s late, or is it early? it’s hard to tell as the birds begin to chirp and the moon begins to dip in the horizon. unbeknownst to eden, the sun begins to take it’s place. the skyline, however, is strategically blocked by the curtains that bend and flow with the wind from the ceiling fan.

eden likes to tell herself that it’s fine. it’s normal, really. tons of people stay up all night with their nose deep in a textbook and typing for hours at their computer. she doesn’t really have much of a choice, considering the amount of assignments due within the next few days and for some, hours. this has always been her life. in between the missions saving citizens on other earths and returning confused villains back to their dimension, eden is just a student.

just a girl with a deadline and a degree to get her hands on.

the digital clock stationed on the cream colored desktop to her right reads 5:44 in gleaming blue numbers. it’s definitely not the most ideal time to be taking on those missing assignments but eden doesn’t conform to such silly concepts as time. who’s going to tell her when she could and couldn’t be awake? and to make her point, eden took the liberty of taking a long afternoon nap and not because she had fallen behind sleep as well, using the satisfaction of completing a job to compensate for her other needs.

eden licks her slightly gnawed lips. she’ll nibble on them, just for a moment, before tucking her bottom lip between her teeth. the feeling of her skin folding keeps her grounded, gives her mind something miniscule to focus on in the background. she releases a breath and continues to scribble jumbled notes on the screen of her ipad, ignoring the chill that’s beginning to spread across her skin.

spring time brings sunny weather, warm during the day but cool during the night. cool enough to make the comforter a perfect shield from the chill. especially when eden’s typical pjs this time of year is a loose oversized shirt and a pair of panties. it’s snuggly wrapped around her shoulders, just until she gets too hot and brushes it to the back of the chair.

she brushes a loose strand of hair out her face. it hangs from the bohemian twists, adorned in shiny, gold hair jewelry. the scrunchy she haphazardly used to tie them back was beginning to slip and succumb to the weight of gravity.

never again will eden put off assignments last minute to go on a mission she wasn’t even originally assigned to. all to hang out with her friends. the death of a girl, really.

the sudden draft from the window comes as a surprise, albeit a welcomed one. it followed a couple raps on the glass before a lengthy frame welcomed its way into her space. “e, what’cha doin’? just wake up?”

the accent is thick and familiar. british and very obviously hobie. the only one who would slip into eden’s room through the fire escape just as dawn is beginning to crack. he’s also the only one who would walk up to her and peer over her head, tongue clicking at the sight of the two toned website, full of paragraphs of paragraphs of information he couldn’t give a shit about.

“you woke up to do this? y’know, i get you value your education but this is a bit much, innit’? this early in the mornin’?” hobie, while removing parts of his spiderman suit, plops down on the tan sheets of his girl’s bed.

“i haven’t slept yet, hobie. literally mind your business.” it doesn’t come out quite as lighthearted as she meant it, but deep down eden is serious. she’s unnerved and short tempered, having been staring right at the blue light filter of her electronics for hours.

the only breaks she’s been taking would be to stretch her arms over her head for a delicious pop or a few minutes to tinkle. the barely functioning part of her brain wasn’t in the mood to hear hobie’s opinion in her choice to spend her night.

“what do you mean you haven’t slept yet? at all? tonight?” the clatter of hobie’s boots vibrate through the floor when he drops them with little care for where they land. he’s more focused on the insanity of eden’s statement. “what are you pullin’ an all nighter for?”

eden’s eyes fall closed. she wasn’t mad at him, merely irritated with the situation she finds herself in. it’s completely her fault and that’s the worst part. it takes every ounce of her being not to direct her emotions to the wrong place, hence why eden has to swallow a breath before casting a glance over her shoulder. “because i have to play catch up. i didn’t do any of the essay work last week and i missed yesterday. i was supposed to meet up with my group to work on that presentation. remember? i told you about it that day we went to your earth.”

hobie pauses his ministrations. he’s shirtless now, resting back on his hands and tilting his head. the hair on his head bends with him, only weighing him down further to his left. “okay? what does that have to do with you not sleepin’? did you sleep earlier or what? have you eaten anythin’? you’re not tellin’ me enough.”

eden musters up the patience to consider her words, closing her eyes and taking in a breath. it feels her lungs to the very brim before she lets it go. her chest falls, following the release and she turns around to look of her shoulder at him.

“because i’m busy. i just told you i’m trying to catch up. i slept earlier and i’ve been snacking on granola and nuts and stuff. all the study girls say it’s great brain food.” she waves him off to turn back to her work.

“when i say this i'm not callin’ you stupid because y’know i’d never say such a thing about you, but that sounds so stupid. it sounds like a scam to keep people from takin’ care of themselves and you fell for it.” the shuffling of fabrics is a sign hobie has picked up removing the lycra red suit.

he stands and pads his way over to the dresser, fingers ghosting over the many leafy green plants operating as decor. even they had a perk that eden currently lacked, glowing with health. “how far are you with that, anyway? think you can spare a few minutes?”

“a few minutes for what?” her brown eyes cut towards him in a side glance. eden can’t hide her curiosity under an exterior of focusness. his suggestion must entail for silliness. it’s hobie of all people. she’s thrown off at the sight of him half naked and pulling a white shirt over his head.

he finishes his outfit with dark wash cargo pants and leans against the dresser’s surface, ruffling his hair in the mirror. “for me, obviously. you need a break, love. you’re gonna run yourself thin. how long have you been at this?”

hobie discards his place to take a position closer to eden. his hands rest on her shoulders, massaging the muscles tenderly. “i found this place on the way over that i think you’d love. we can watch the sunset, get some real food in you, and relax. you can come right back to modern day slavery, later.”

“modern day slavery is insane,” says eden as she looks over her shoulder with a soft smile. the twists cascading down her back bunch and jumble over her collar. “craziest thing i’ve heard you say, today.” eden welcomes hobie’s presence by taking his hand and pressing her lips into his palm.

“gotta start sayin’ somethin’ more wild, then. that wasn’t that bad.” his demeanor softs. the usual sharp angles in his face have become rounded in a grin, white teeth gleaming at her affection. “you comin’ or not?”

she just sighs in faux annoyance and slides out of her chair. “oh my gosh, okay. i try to be nice to you and you rush me.” eden huffs her way over to put on some real clothes. she makes a big show of it, flinging tops around and purposefully hitting hobie with a few until she becomes settled on what she deems good enough.

her mild tantrum doesn’t go unnoticed. instead, hobie ignores it, head tilted in adoration. he’s completely and utterly infatuated, admiring how the silhouette of her frame bends when she tugs the brown jeans over her hips.

“we’re goin’ to go sit in dirt, you know that right?” hobie chuckles as he watches her get dressed. his gaze falls to her bed and eyes the stuffed animals almost neatly lined up along her pillow. some of them have toppled over, victims to hobie sitting on her bed and moving about carelessly. “that one’s new.” his head nods towards a cow, black grin sewn into a little line both welcoming and slightly creepy. “what’s their name?”

eden has to follow his eyes to her bed, eyebrows knitted together in confusion. the new addition to her plush friends has been around for so long, she’s forgotten hobie hasn’t properly been introduced. “matcha.” she turns away momentarily to pull a shirt of the hanger. “like the tea. the color reminded me of it.”

hobie eyes the frog for a second longer. the more seconds that tick by, the longer matcha’s black beady eyes taunt hobie and he snorts. “yeah? it’s cute.” and a little bit scary.

“just like you,” eden seals her compliment with an obnoxious wink and a kiss, all from across the room in the comfort of her closet. it draws a rich chuckle from his throat and her heart flutters at the sound. “anyway, tell me about the spot you found.”

hobie claims her previous seat at the desk, a low hum vibrating through his chest. he rests one of his arms on the armrest to hold his head up, legs open in a manspread. “what’d you want me to say? i was swingin’ and saw somethin’ i think you’d like. it’s secluded and quiet. won’t have to worry about someone interrupting.”

his eyes glaze over, shining with affection. hobie can’t help but look at her as if she’s crafted the world herself. to him, she did.

hobie’s been a street kid for as long as he can remember. his success in getting off the streets and moving into a houseboat can solely be credited to the small success of his band and his method in saving money, stealing whatever he could get his hands on. he was lucky enough to meet eden and become a part of her family and in turn, she became a part of his.

it’s not like eden is particularly oblivious, either. she just does her best to ignore his looks by busying herself with other tasks. this time, eden is quelling the storm of butterflies in her stomach by pulling a cardigan over her shoulders. “oh, so you’re so in love with me, you were thinking about me on your way over here.”

“e . . ., just forget i said anythin’, at this point. i can never be nice to you.” hobie rolls his eyes. it’s accompanied with a tch!, the sound of his tongue clicking against his teeth. he’s dramatic enough to cross his arms over his chest and turn his face away from hers with a petty scowl.

eden can only giggle, a soft palm coming up to his cheek when she stops walking in front of him. “thank you, honey. i really appreciate you looking out for me. don’t know what i’d do without you.”

hobie can pretend to be annoyed all he wants but when she’s up close and personal like this, he can’t help but break out in a grin. “put your mask on, lover. it’ll be easier to swing there.” he pulls away from her hold to tug his wide eyed mask over his face. hammer-space is particularly useful in swallowing the expanse of his hair.

it’s all packaged neatly and flat against his skull, protecting his identity from the public. hobie lingers by the fire escape, leaned against the wall and scrolling through his phone. there was no service here, it not being his earth, but he wouldn’t be hobie if he wasn’t fiddling with something. “gonna miss the sunrise if you don’t hurry up, e.”

eden side eyes him and his dwindling patience. if she felt spitful enough, she’d take even more time. instead, she copies his manner and take his place at his side. “okay, okay. come on.” she tucks the house keys securely into her back pocket. they’re snug in place here with little chance of them slipping out.

upon exiting the window and standing on the fire escape stairs, eden can feel the wind almost immediately. spring mornings are chilly and the occasional breeze doesn’t make it any better. she’s grateful to have the cardigan keeping some warmth against her body. at least, until she’s swinging through midair. it’s enough to bring goosebumps to her skin but she doesn’t care, not when she’s swinging through the city side by side with the love of her life.

eden feels exhilarated, drunk off the excitement running ice cold through her veins. the thrill of watching new york blur by, the city lights become streaks in the background. the wind ripples through her cardigan in waves, tugging it in all directions from her body as smoothly as an angry ocean centered in a just as viscous storm.

paralleled from eden and her long ropes of twists whipping around her, hobie moves with just as much delight. his bug-eyes are especially round and pleased. of course, there’s no obvious tell but eden knows. besides, the tinkling of his laughter can’t be masked by rushing air.

“isn’t this so much better than bein’ holed up in your room?” he yells over the wind, almost almost distracting eden enough from spotting him snatching up baked goods from a poor unsuspecting employee just trying to transport them from the truck to the store.

there’s only so much eden can do to show her silent disapproval. her method for this particular situation is a disgruntled and dramatic sigh. a part of her can’t help but pity the person just trying her job. another part of her feels nothing when in the end, the damage will be so miniscule that new york’s big corp won’t even notice. besides, she can’t be too upset about it or hobie will refuse to bring her sweet little treats when he comes to visit her.

“you couldn’t do it, lovely. you’re spider sage after all, a pinnacle of good society. what would they do without you?” hobie tugs the box in tow. it’s no trouble at all, light as a feather and matching the teasing tone of his voice.

it’s something he’s grown accustomed to bugging her about. truthfully, there’s always been this underlying goodness eden had that hobie lacked. sure, she’d let him do whatever he wanted but she’s good, morally better than him. that’s what the propaganda is pushing, at least

eden brushes past his comments and him, uninterested in starting the banter. there wouldn’t be a moment when he’d get over it. as much as hobie liked to claim it’s a hill he isn’t willing to die on, she feels differently. “shut up and show me that place before i go home and lock you out.”

“you wound me, ed.”

“hobart!” she breaks her neck to shoot him in a glare. the white silhouettes of her eyes narrowed and focused solely on him. “i’ll beat your ass into the ground. say it again.”

“you tempt me but i will not,” hobie disappears into the the busy trees of central park without a second thought.

it’s fairly empty during this hour, despite the busy hustle of the city in other areas. the only people that pass by are the occasional morning joggers, adorned in athletic attire and bluetooth headsets. they’re far and few between though, giving eden the illusion that she and hobie are alone. it definitely seems that way when they land in the soft grass, still damp from morning dew and surrounded by the calls of birds hidden in the trees.

“sun’s gonna rise soon, dove. you wanna sit in a tree or what?” hobie pulls the mask off his head in one smooth tug. the expanse of his wicks jump out of hammerspace with vigor, bouncing in the air. he stuffs the mask in his pocket and offers eden one of the plastic wrapped pastries he may or may not have stolen.

eden scrunches her face at the thought of sitting where the bugs and birds reside. as romantic as the thought may be, it wasn’t very practical nor clean. “the grass . . . why would i want to sit in a tree? does that seem like something i’d like?”

“i don’t believe in predictability.” he says as if it’s a passing comment and takes a seat on the grass. hobie doesn’t mind the dampness of it at all, having been used to living in more uncomfortable conditions for parts of his life. he wipes his hands across the fabric of his cargos and pats the space in his lap, just for eden.

if she wasn’t in love and willing to look past his annoyingness, eden would have sucked it up and sat on the marsh. instead, she squints and rolls her eyes before complying. “you are so irritating. can you act like a normal person or does your brain just not work?”

“define normal? what even qualifies as a normal person? you’re just forcin’ conformity on me.” his arms goes to wrap around her waist, massaging the warm skin by sliding his hands under the hem of her shirt. “besides, i don’t believe in conformity, either.”

she sucks her bottom lip beneath the slightly jagged edges of her teeth. it takes more control than she’s comfortable with to will her patience to remain despite hobie’s quips and smart remarks. “okay, hobart. whatever you say.” eden runs her fingers through the grass, enjoying the dampness of it all. the blades, still stuck in a brown turning green color with the spring season approaching, remind her of hobie’s eyes. although, it’s far easier to look at without the butterflies and warm feeling spreading across her skin.

the birds chirp and chatter in the trees. they’re active and singing to announce the rising sun on the horizon, turning the sky into various shades of pink and orange. it smells like morning, both humid and sweet. the air is fresh and crisp enough to swing eden’s lungs and would send a chill down her spine if hobie wasn’t here with her.

though his frame is small, hobie always warm and always fidgeting. now, his fingers are dancing across her skin. he drags the tips up and down her sides in random lines with no seeming sense of direction, just enjoying her presence, nose deep in the crook of her neck and forgetting everything else in the world. “i missed you so much. had to fix my watch just to come see you. you know how many parts i had to steal for that?”

“janky ass watch. you should have just used the one given to you, hobes. it’s so much easier. literally, just put in my earth and come to my room.” eden scoffs. the whole situation is funny to her no matter how many times hobie brings it up. he’s too stubborn to use anything the spider-society gave him. sometimes he’s so open minded, he becomes narrow minded and it’s eden’s job to remind him to give the world a chance.

she fails every time.

“i don’t want them to know where i am or what i’m doing. that’s an invasion of my privacy and one of the first steps in losin’ what little freedom i have. first, they give me the watch and tell me what missions i have to go on. then, they’re going to start watching’ where i’m going at all times to make sure i’m actually doin’ what they told me to. miguel is goin’ to start talking about how i can’t go across dimensions without a mission because i risk causing an anomaly. he already pisses me off. he’s like the poster child for a fascist. i mean, look how he’s on miles. poor guy can’t do anythin’ without miguel breathin’ down his neck.”

“that must be so hard for you. so difficult to not listen to the man whose whole job is telling you what to do so entire worlds don’t fall apart.” eden plucks a blade of grass from the dirt, only to let it go and watch it float back onto the ground below her. she giggles when hobie tickles her sides.

“don’t get smart. when we all eventually resort to anarchy, you’re going to wish you listened to me.” his lips move over her skin. they’re smooth and plump, moisturized with pomegranate burt’s bees chapstick, stolen from his local gas station.

the two fall into a peaceful silence, enjoying the other’s company. it’s soothing to have their other half there in the natural privacy of central park and moving much slower than the normal hustle and bustle of the city.

a butterfly flutters by. it’s wings are orange with a brown underside. it occasionally rests on a dandelion in the field before letting the wind pick it up and carry it away.

the wind whispers relaxing words in eden’s ears. she leans against hobie, tilting her head back until her head is resting on his shoulder. for a moment, everything around her ceases to exist. the only thing that draws her back is the fleeting feeling of hobie’s fingers dipping lower and lower until they surpass the waistband of her pants.

“hobie,” eden mumbles. it’s more of a curious hum than a warning, paired with a slight increase in her heart race. she wets her lips when he doesn’t stop venturing downward and offers no response in return. “hobie,” she says again, louder than the first time and lifting her head with it. by now, he’s reached the elastic of her panties.

“relax, eden. don’t make a big deal out of it.” hobie doesn’t hesitate to make room for the expanse of his rather large hand by pulling it out to unbutton and pull down the zipper of her pants. just as quick as he’s done that, he returns his hand to his previous place and teasingly runs along her folds.

“we’re in public. what if someone sees?” eden’s chest rises in an anticipatory breath. she circles her hand around his wrist but makes no move to stop him. just that quickly is hobie able to cloud her mind and throw any sense she has out the window. eden is supposed to be the levelheaded one and usually she is. any other time, when hobie’s fingers aren’t borderline brushing against her clit, she is.

“spider senses. i can just pull my hand back. you think too much.” so badly does hobie want to make a teasing comment about how easily she turns into putty in his hands. it doesn’t take very long to gather enough slick that he can practically hear it.

it’s almost like he has complete control over her body. every muscle almost liquidates and there’s no resistance, as if there ever was. “yeah well,” eden lets out a soft whisper of a moan, “you don’t think enough.”

“mhm, and what else?” even though he can’t see her face, hobie has been down this road enough times to envision it behind the dark canvas of his closed eyes. arguably, it’s better to him this way, being able to hear what effect he has on her and know that he is pleasing her, even when he can’t exactly witness it.

hobie just knows and that speaks for itself.

he pushes a finger past the tightness of her entrance deep enough to elicit the softest whimper from her sweet lips. in hobie’s head, eden deserves this. she deserves the opportunity to unwind and make irrational decisions, crowded by lust and general immaturity. he thinks she’s too serious sometimes, too good of a person, too law abiding. who is the government to tell him when he can and can’t make the love of his life feel good?

“and –” eden is cut off by a gasp. she grabs at his hand wrapped securely around her waist, digging her nails into his skin. “you’re . . . annoying.” she gives in and closes her eyes, succumbing to the mind numbing pleasure that courses through her veins.

hobie is intoxicating in the way he handles her. the palm of his hand catches and rolls against her clit with each stroke of his fingers inside her walls. he kisses along her neckline until his lips find the pulse of her heartbeat along her jugular. hobie chuckles lightly against her skin. he can feel each drum under them, the rhythm just a rapid as he imagined.

“you’re so wet. what happened to being worried about everyone else?” hobie has to tighten hs grip in response to her losing the ability to sit still, writhing around in his lap. he anchors her in place despite her whines and attempts to twist her body around.

eden can’t tell if she’s doing anything to contribute but her mind is so cloudy, she can’t seem to care. instead, she’s pleasing what instincts she has to absolutely lose her mind. her will to resist has been chipped away before it could even develop, before eden could talk herself into some sense of sanity. for now, she will simply be a loose-limbed participant and later, she’ll be accusing hobie of seducing her out of her pants.

eden can only whimper under the safety of the birds tweeting around her. she is handing the situation over to her boyfriend and she knows it. most of all, she loves it. she loves that he can relax her so easily and distract her from the building stress that bubbled just under the surface all week. “hobie, please.”

“please what?” hobie stares at the side of her face with a sudden seriousness. eden, with the only thing she can see is the blankless behind her eyelids, is blissfully unaware. she can’t see the way he drinks in her expressions with darkened eyes in hopes that the image will be imprinted in his mind for years to come. his question has no degrading intentions, rather promoting his smart girl to continue to speak her mind.

yet, eden can only offer to add pants to the conversation. she strains her neck towards his face and grip his chin between the thumb and the rest of her fingers. she pulls him in to a kiss, sloppily. their tongues dance with each other and drool begins to slightly pools in the corners of their mouths.

it’s hobie who’s mind becomes foggy when eden moans into his mouth. he thinks she tastes . . . spiced. like a subtle hint of the chai she’s always drinking during the late night studies. he can feel his dick jumping in his pants, begging for freedom or some sensation of touch but hobie refuses. not now, at least.

instead, he pulls his head away and silences the other voices in his head screaming to indulge in the space between her thighs. “please what, treacle?” he repeats with a certain softness in his voice, close enough to justify a whisper. his eyes dart between her lips and her eyes, even at the obvious bulge in her pants where his hand is.

she takes a sharp breath, brown eyes rounding in gentleness, as if she was pleading with him to meet some sort of compromise. however, there’s only one thing that eden wants. “don’t tease.” she kisses hobie again with the same fervent passion as before, tangling her hand within the stray strands of hairs surrounding his wicks. she catches hobie off guard by tugging on his bottom lip through her teeth.

“i’m not teasing, e. you’re just being shy.” hobie mumbles into her mouth. still, he allows her to get away with it and drives his fingers into her with an increasing pace. he knows he’s found her g-spot when eden is no longer able to kiss him with the amount of expertise she was before. all of her concentration goes into keeping her moans to a minimum. the coil in his stomach wraps tighter around itself until eden is tense, grinding back down onto hobie’s fingers. the crease of her thighs are wet with her arousal but she doesn’t care. not when she’s right on the brink of ––

“why did you stop?” eden’s eyes fly open when the sudden emptiness settles in from hobie pulling his fingers away. they glisten with a sheen but he continues to button and readjust her clothes back into their original position.

just in time for a jogger to come running by, sparing the two a glance on their way.

hobie watches eden come to the realization, a sheepish smile spreading across her face. “spider senses are so cool, right? if only you actually used yours. come on, i’ll get you home and you can decide whether or not your whatever the fuck you were doin’ is more important.”

#✮🕷✮⋆˙ 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓷 𝓼𝓸𝓾𝓵 #hobie x black!reader #hobie smut #hobie brown #x black fem reader #astv hobie #x black reader #x reader #hobie x reader #hobie x y/n #hobie x oc #commission

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eden-beast · 5 months ago

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im cozy in my jacket, but not really here. too blurry.

#edens teeth click #plural posting #system posting #headmate blog #alter blog

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b3ast0fburd3n · 3 months ago

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@badtrigger sent - ❝ if you’re gonna steal, you better make sure you get away with it. ❞ // mays for eden or hayes (both!)

"We don't need a tv." Eden sighs, hands working dexterously at the carving in her hands. With each scrap falling into the sand, it slowly starts to resemble a bear. Hayes shakes his head wildly, taking a long drag from his cigarette before stamping it out in the sand at his feet. She's not listening to him. She is, he's just not taking her no.

"We do, you never fuckin' understand my references, E. You've gotta see Top Gun" She's seen it. It's boring.

"Then we can find one ourselves." She lobs off a chunk to round off the bears head, easing the knife back and forth to make a corner for the ear.

"No no, E, you're not gettin' it. Beetlejuice has, like, a thousand. He wouldn't notice one missing." Hayes isn't quiet about his plan to steal from Vaas of all people, moving his hands wildly while he tries to convince his roommate.

❝ if you’re gonna steal, you better make sure you get away with it. ❞

The two pause, turning to Mays. Eden frowns at the intrusion. How is it any of his business. Hayes chooses to stand. He looks Mays up and down, sizing the other man up.

"Look, mate, if you're gonna accuse me of something, then do it." He stands over Mays with a smug grin, eyes flicking around his face to gage a reaction. "Otherwise, fuck. off. with your yellow shit." Remaining fingers on his right hand poke at Mays' chest. "Or-" He clicks his teeth, faking a sympathetic tone, "Oh, no, you're not yellow anymore, are you? Red like the rest of us? Hm?" Eden grabs a handful of his vest, standing and tugging him back.

"We are not thieves." She glares up at her talkative friend, trying to silently tell him to shut the fuck up. He doesn't hear her. Hayes waves her hand away from his back.

"Even if we were, private, the fuck would you care for?"

#badtrigger #mac mays #eden rp #hayes rp #joint thread: hayes/eden

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hiemaldesirae · 8 months ago

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back at it again with the vampire au shenanigans, woop-woop:

I imagine a sinner *willingly* giving their blood to a human, to the undead no less, to be an INCREDIBLY rare phenomenon that hasn´t been seen in a while --- like, *since Eden* levels of A While; yeah, there´s always going to be the foolish humans out there that believe that consuming demons will grant them immortality and unfathomable power, but because of their fragile constitutions in comparison, there wasn´t really any major concern from the higher-ups and whatnot. But when word gets out that Alastor has been feeding, not *just* any old vampire, but the goddamn *familiar* of a MUCH more powerful face who actively consumes his blood even now, oh...pardon the pun, but *all* of Hell breaks loose; Lucifer had been giving Alastor under the assumption that he would be using it primarily to protect Charlie and the hotel and has been mostly in the dark about what his little trips to the human realm, so now *he´s* also in the hot seat with the other Sins, and everyone is fucking freaking out because they have NO idea What this makes Vox if he were to go to Hell, if he even *has* a soul left to damn, and all the incalculable risks that come with this revelation. Throw in the whole mystery of Al´s dealer on top of all that, and you got a complete clusterfuck going on down there that radiostatic is *completely* ignorant to as they sneak cuddles late into the night.

Alastor, meanwhile, also wasn´t aware that he was accidentally giving Vox an extra power dose by feeding him: it was solely a last-ditch effort to get some substance into his mate before he passes out during the time. However, because Vox was so...mm, *receptive* during the act, and Alastor is a shameless wife guy through and through, they simply fell into this routine feeding during the hours where they can meet: the effect, combined with Alastor´s warmth, is like biting into the food of the fae for Vox: the taste of human blood, and especially the pidly animal blood he had previously been using to try and get by, could *never* compare to the rich, fulfilling buzz he gets from Alastor. He even regularly tries to get Alastor in on the blood drinking to make things a bit more even between the pair, but despite how so very *tempting* the offer is (and Alastor is just barely holding back by sheer force of will from lunging forward and sinking his teeth into the beautiful flesh laid bare before him, like his control is a rapidly fraying thread held together by scotch tape and stubbornness), the demon *refuses* to "consummate", if you will, until Vox is freed from his master.

So, when he starts noticing that his mate is healing faster with each subsequent meet-up, it doesn´t click at first because poor Vox genuinely was THAT sick during their first encounter --- the bruises gradually fade, his eyebags become less severe, he can walk in a straight line without the use of a cane, the *slightest* bit of colour even returns to him (i.e. he goes from "concerningly severe anaemic like how are you Not permanently hooked up to bloodbags and an IV" to "*mildly* severe anaemic" in his friends´ eyes) and there´s even this newfound little spark in his eyes that takes Vox aback the next time he looks in the mirror (the no reflections thing doesn´t apply since they stopped making mirrors with silver, lol). It´s only about a few months into their ✨illicit activities✨ that it finally hits Alastor that something´s up when he notices Vox subconsciously manipulating the shadows around him, little things that nobody else would question, but Alastor is nothing if not an observant fucker. Naturally, he also freaks out a little --- not because of the repercussions *he* could face, but because he *knows* that, in all the decades Vox has been bound to his master, his sire would *never* share even a crumb of his vast power outside of the absolute bare minimum and therefore would catch on the SECOND he notices Vox´s shadow play and Alastor would rather stake Vox through the heart *himself* than see him get put in more danger because of him. Naturally, he tries to keep this as under-wraps as humanely possible, because god forbid these fuckers *actually* communicate, but he also completely underestimates Vox´s intelligence because he figures it out Very quickly as well.

From then on out, it´s them against their worlds: Vox and Alastor continue to play up their respective duties to their masters while sneaking off with as power as they can physically muster and trying not to get caught, y´know for some star-crossed tension. Unfortunately for them, Vox´s sire knows what´s up because he´s still draining Vox and can *taste* the extra power coursing through his veins...and, well, you can imagine how bad things would play out from there...

on a slightly less dramatic, more fluffy note with the sillies: Alastor´s curiosity is piqued being that this is the first time he´s physically interacted with the human realm since his death, so much of their "dates" beyond the usual feeding/makeouts consist of them testing out as many vampire-related myths on Vox as possible, much to the latter´s chagrin: "yes Alastor, I can still eat garlic bread; it´s just the smell that bothers me..."; Vox, for his part, resolves to make Alastor experience as much as modern-day New Orleans (because I can only picture them meeting up again there lol) as he can throughout the nighttime while also catching him up on pop culture, much to Alastor´s horror:

aka Vox 100% forced a twilight marathon onto him and lost his movie night privileges for six months because of it---

oh my GOD mk you cannot just casually come in here and start dropping bangers into the inbox. i swear to god i saw this ask yesterday (or maybe it was sat??) and my jaw dropped to the floor because i was just. Flabbergasted at how well u describe all these scenes. genuinely astonishing work i cant believe you and ur mind.

anyway. getting into the meat of things... okay yeah oh my god they WOULD manage to invent a new loophole in the demon/vampire hierarchy system just because they were horny (well, technically vox was also on the verge of death so i Will give him a little bit of a pass there ... but STILL- what the FUCK guys !!!!!!) absolutely fucked up that alastor has to hold himself back from simply just tearing into voxs flesh with his teeth, though- i can imagine that seeing vox all banged up from his time with his sire can't be a reassuring sight for al, who probably just wants to stake (heh) his own claim on his beloved and make sure that he stops seeing those horrifically dark bruises and evidence of the mistreatment vox has had to go through ever since his death

and its so horrid how its all for nothing in the end anyway.... because knowing voxs sire, theres NO WAY that him and alastor sharing time together will go down well, now knowing what he does about his little pet's endeavours with whatever mystery demon this is. something something tragic doomed yaoi ..... not that i think that vox's sire would *kill* him, exactly, but it wouldn't exactly go well for him either when the sire finally reveals he's known all along. perhaps he instead tightens the chains on vox- basically keeps him under house arrest constantly, has his other fledgling vampires keep watch on vox and make sure that alastor cant get access to him? not that it would do the sire much good to hide vox away, really, because alastor's calling in a favour from charlie already and uh oh when'd lucifer get here, looks like sky granddaddy's about to come and have a *chat* with these little underlings-

anyway. oh my god twillight radiostatic movie nights .... i never watched nor read twillight but ive heard the most flabbergasting and delightfully horrible things about the films, so i have full trust that whatever the fuck theyre doing over there will be just as horrific as ive heard. i support vox and his twillight marathon movie night motions- I STAND BY MY CANCELLED WIFE !!!!

#ran rambles #hazbin hotel #general asks #radiostatic #vampire vox au

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