So I read this fun fic by @gogo-the-king about Fury giving the Reader a topless photo of herself and expecting one in return, and I wondered what the other Horsemen would think if they were given a nude pic by their human s/o.
graphic credit: cafekitsune
War: It was a whole thing trying to explain to him how cameras worked. Turns out humans are the only ones who use this technology since other races tend to use more traditional means of recording events and images of people, like statues, paintings, and tapestries. You had to patiently explain that no, it doesn't steal your soul, and no, it's not magic. War was still apprehensive, but you showed him some of the other photographs you'd taken with whatever film you could find, memories preserved by light and mirrors triggering a chemical reaction. You told him that, sometimes, people gave these to each other as mementoes of good times, or as keepsakes between lovers, and offered to take one of yourself for him. Well, he didn't see the harm in it, simply telling you to do as you liked.
You still wonder if you went a little far using what was left of a red bedsheet that was almost the same hue as his cowl when you posed for your camera later, but you wanted it to feel personal. How better to do so than to tease enough of the goods under his colours? Sure, anyone looking at the photo will see your backside, your legs and whatever else you decide to show off, but the good stuff is only just visible, peeking out from behind the fabric. It took some practice posing in a mirror to get it right and it is just you doing the shoot, but you're happy with the finished product, selecting the best one to get pressed into War's palm later on. You tell him to look at it later when he gets a moment to himself, that it's for his eyes only. When he does, he's going red to the tips of his ears, practically salivating at the sight of you. It's not quite what he expected, but he can see your mischievous face staring up at him and he hurriedly tucks the photo into one of the pouches on his belt for safekeeping before he embarrasses himself. But it's good to have you with him, in a sense, when he goes to dangerous places, too dangerous for you to follow, for lengthy periods of time. And if he should find himself missing your company, then you're never truly far from him, staring up from a glossy little rectangle with your bottom lip between your teeth.
He wouldn't be able to take a photo of himself for you, since his hands are huge and too strong for your little camera (he'd most likely break it), but you could potentially talk him into modelling for you if you swear to never tell a soul about it. He does have a nice body, and you tell him as much while you're getting him to pose, earning that adorable huff he does when he's flustered shortly before you press down on the shutter.
Strife: He was more than familiar with how valuable cameras had become in this post-apocalyptic world. You humans seemed almost as obsessed with keeping a record of everything as angels are, but he saw why it was necessary the longer he spent at Haven as Jones. The walls of the makeshift library are covered with photographs of parts of the city where things have changed as the other survivors redraw the maps, keeping track of which faction controls what part for that particular week. But there were some, pinned up on corkboards that were nailed to the walls of the mess, that showed the lighter side of humanity's survival- group pictures with smiling faces, candid shots of the occasional goings-on at the tree, and some silly ones that a few of the humans had put together for fun. Nobody had contributed to this collection of lively moments from a dying world more than you, and Strife had seen how it still brought you some joy to snap away with your camera. He was sure to bring back any film he found for you, if only to watch your face light up with that smile he'd fallen for so many times, fast and hard, like he'd been decked by War's tremor gauntlet.
So, imagine his surprise when, almost a year into this relationship, you'd slipped something into his coat pocket while he was still in his human disguise with a wink before you trotted off to help with taking inventory. He didn't think too much about it, until he was far enough from the tree and curiosity got the better of him...and he nearly dropped the photo over the side of the building he was standing on. Good thing he grabbed it in time, because there was no way in heaven or hell that he was going to let anyone else see you like that.
In nothing but his scarf.
If his helmet hadn't been on, he'd have been biting his knuckles 'til they bled. He's doomed, he knows it, and he doesn't want to be saved. You even had the nerve to ask if he liked his 'present' when you two finally got a moment alone and he could drop the disguise long enough to thank you properly by taking you up against the nearest wall he could find. You little tease. He loves you so god damn much.
Of course, Strife being Strife, he had to get you back for that stunt, and your camera went missing for a bit until you found it hidden under your pillow. With a photo of the Horseman from an overhead angle, his pants loose around his hips and the faintest outline against the fabric while he grinned at you behind his mask. The fucker even had the nerve to scribe the words 'Miss you already!' underneath it. Trust him to play dirty like that.
Death: He's familiar with cameras, even if he doesn't quite understand how they work. He's gotten caught on film a couple of times the last time he was sent on a mission to Earth about a century ago (not for lack of trying not to be seen), and he understands the necessity for humans to document their changing world. He's definitely not fond of being in front of the camera, though, so he tends to step out of the way when you start taking pictures of stuff. Absolutely no way are you getting a picture of him. But if you happen to offer one of yourself, just something for him to remember you by, after you two are close enough, he'll question your intentions, but he won't say no. He doesn't look at it immediately, though when he gets a moment, there's the faintest smirk under that impassive mask as he looks it over. It doesn't take him by surprise to see your nude form the same way it does his brothers- his jaw doesn't drop, his mouth doesn't water and his eyes aren't about to pop out of their sockets. But he does remember why you gave him this gift, and some deep-seated part of him purrs its satisfaction at the coy expression on your face and how you're posed in a way that preserves some of modesty, the angle meant to look like you're beneath him. As if he doesn't know what you're trying to do.
It's amusing that you don't bring it up, but he'll tease you about it during a more intimate moment when he puts you under him so he can see you at the same angle you took that picture from. "Now, isn't this a familiar sight?" He remarks, and your flustered expression is reward enough.
WEDNESDAY ADDAMS x ENID SINCLAIR x ARACHNID! READER
A/N: Meow :3 enjoy
___________________________________________
Your webs span an entire portion of the forest. It’s dark out now but that’s the way you like it. Your arms let out strands of your webbing, the bundle dangling over the heart of your nest watching with interest.
You have two layers to this structure. The main part, a bowl shape spanning to over a dozen trees and then there was a mock ceiling. Thick strings that held up your company.
You chittered quietly before looking up.
She was ethereal.
Your Wednesday Addams…Her braids were hanging over the sides of her head, her clothing covered by your webbing. She was displayed upside down. Wednesday was watching you work with awe.
There was a thick veil of apathy but you could just barely see that twinkle.
Your fangs shivered before adjusting themselves to be more comfortable. A chitter came from you and Wednesday let her lips twitch upwards ever so slightly.
You chose silence, little noises and body language instead of words when you were like this. Your need to hunt made speaking difficult. Different words not meant to be said out loud were spilled out if you weren’t careful.
Your hands are gentle against her head. Two hands, three, and then all four hands were touching her. They were gently touching her jugular, her jaw, cradling the crown of her head, poking at her collar.
This has happened you don’t even know how many times. It’s the same song and dance. Wednesday submits to being wrapped in your silk, you build your webs, and she watches…
Wednesday Addams watches…As does Enid Sinclair.
The wolf is letting out long whines. She’s jealous! Both of the people that she loves are up there together and she’s stuck down below! Enid lets out a whiny bark which makes you hiss.
“I’m surprisingly comfortable up here, you may leave me up here for now.” Code for, you should give her your love, please don't leave Enid out or she’ll continue her whining.
You skitter to the edge and feel your small abdomen wag for a moment. When Enid meets your eye she pouts and whines. You chitter down to the werewolf and gently slide down on a thick strand of your silk. You have to keep your fangs in check when she’s suddenly upon you. Enid licks your face over and over again and you force your arms to be still at your side.
The instinct, the fear, was pulsing in your brain. It took a lot to actually spook you, but when it came to Enid there was that raw feeling. Like your mind just went alert for no reason. She was big. Bigger than the average werewolf. That made your instincts flare.
When Enid stops she’s looking at you expectedly. Slowly, after calming your brain down, your hands are all over her now. Only two of your hands are on her, but the curiosity of your “Spider-Brain” (As Enid called it) made up for it.
It didn’t matter how many times you had felt her fuzzy face, your mind was always so curious.
You chitter gently before ushering Enid forward. She stares at you as you rise to your web. Her paws come up and she rises on her legs. She’s tall. Tall enough to be at eye level with your web.
She whines as the structure bends under her weight, but you’re still pulling her up.
Wednesday watches from her cocoon overhead, clearly amused.
The more Enid clambers onto your web, the more anxious she gets. When she’s on your web properly, she’s trembling and licking at her lips. You’re holding her…Before guiding her to lie down.
The raven-haired woman above the both of you has her eyes go wide when you deftly skitter above her, easily rip apart the strand holding her up, and gently lay her next to the giant Werewolf below.
You drop and there's a ripple of vibrations going throughout the silk. Enid can feel it and so can Wednesday…
Your arms and legs move too quickly as you take the Addams into your arms and snuggle close to the anxiety ridden wolf. Wednesday is sandwiched between the two of you. She huffs, even furrowing her brow when Enid calms down enough to hug her spider and her raven to her chest.
With her fur so close to your face you turn to her and your fangs extend gently to brush against those silky strands that you’d grown to love so much. Wednesday sighs, her arms still crossed over her chest like a corpse. Words don’t come. At all.
Your little nest of misfits. These nights bring you peace and settle your rampant instincts.
___________________________________________
A/N: Pretty much, Reader has four arms, a small abdomen at their tailbone that produces very strong silk, and fangs.
I hope you enjoyed!
I'm considering taking requests...very much considering it!!!
WEDNESDAY ADDAMS x ENID SINCLAIR x VAMPIRE! READER
A/N: Just finished the rest of season two! Very pleased! Regardless, please enjoy this short story!
+ I apologize if anything seems ooc ^^'
___________________________________________
Like the Lupin, Vampires are intrinsically bound to the moon. Their forms will change and their instincts will run wild…Unless they are among the rank of the Vampire Lords.
A Vampire Lord is a cut above the rest, a creature of unpredictable power and raw instinct. You know this…And so you were destined to be alone…Except when it comes to the werewolf you know as Enid Sinclair you are more than happy to change into your more monstrous form…
Such are the cards you were dealt.
Wednesday has the both of you by the ears. Her pinch is strong and painful. She says nothing but it doesn’t matter.
You hiss softly from the back of your throat and cower into yourself. Wings folding in. Enid whines and does the same. Wednesday Addams' eyes are the matte black that matches your car. It is the exact color of death, of the Reaper’s robes, of beautiful night…
Those eyes put fear into you both.
Enid had started it, truthfully. Her barking at your hanging form was an annoyance and you wanted to be rid of it. You’d given her plenty of warning. Hissing at her, bring your wing claws over your giant ears while snarling but that only seemed to spur her on more.
It came to a point where you were done.
You launched yourself from the rafters and snapped your fangs at her. Your wings were spread and your hissing loud. You wouldn’t dare to actually hurt her. It was all posturing.
She was growling and showing her teeth, you were hissing and snapping at her with your fangs.
She jumped forward with her tail wagging and then it was a wrestling match. You were both making noise and crashing into the floor and walls. It was a symphony of snarls and the scraping of claws. By the time your faces were side by side you were both snatched up by the ear and now…Here…
“The both of you,” The way she speaks makes it feel like the grim reaper themself is running their frigid fingers along your spines. “Are like children.”
“I am sick of it.” Her glare is like ice and salt. It is cold…So cold that it burns.
Enid whines and you click gently.
She gives a firm tug which makes the both of you softly yelp, “Enough.”
When she lets go the both of you are guilty as all get out. Your lips twitch upwards into a snarl and Enid copies you. But you don’t make any noise. Neither of you dare.
Then she fakes a sneeze and you’re both calming down. It was just a bit of play-fighting…
Enid stalks towards Wednesday’s seated form and you’re following with a wicked silence. Her head gently nudges its way to her lap. Wednesday’s cold fingers brush in Enid’s fur and the Lupin’s tail wags gently from side to side.
Your frilled nose extends and retracts against Wednesday’s temple. The ravenette leaning into the side of your face and you copying the motion with a resounding purr.
Soft clicks come from your throat and Enid lets out a happy groan.
The typewriter is silent for the moment…The three of you were just sitting there…
Enid whined at nearly the same time that you let out a gentle vibration from your torso. After a moment Wednesday urged the both of you closer.
“You are forgiven…For the moment.” The both of you just sighed, knowing exactly what her words mean. Screw up again and you’re both out.
You love this dearly…
Wednesday’s hands suddenly come away from the two of you and back to her typewriter. The clicks and the smell of ink fill your nostrils.
It’s a calm that cannot be rivalled…You adore it and you know that Wednesday Addams and Enid Sinclair love it too.
LET SILVER GLINT IN THE DARK — KPDH X GREY KNIGHT! READER
A/N: That’s right y’all. I’m combing one favorite thing with another favorite thing ^^ Some context for this story!
You are a Grey Knight! A Grey Knight, in the universe of Warhammer 40K, is an elite Daemon hunter! Also, a member of the Adeptus Astartes!
I found a meme and then a fanart for the crossover and I wanted to make a story ^^
ENJOY!!
___________________________________________
PROLOGUE
To become one of the Flawless Blades of the Emperor took overcoming a great many challenges. Becoming a Knight of incorruptible silver was a chance that only a select few had the privilege of undergoing.
You were supposed to be one of millions that die every year to feed the God-Emperor of Mankind as he sits upon his Golden Throne.
However, out of thousands, you were singled out by your Mentor, Paladin Isander. He, a veteran Grey Knight, had the honor to oversee your training and induction into the Ordo Malleus of the Holy Inquisition.
As an Aspirant you were seen as promising, though you lacked a certain drive that others had. Even so, Paladin Isander cared not and saw in you a greatness that had yet to show itself to other veterans…
After every test, every obstacle—All six-hundred and sixty-six rituals of Detestation—, even after undergoing the augmentation process of the Astartes, you donned armor fit for your service and became one of the Grey Knights.
Your name was gone, all memory of the past wiped from your mind. You were a Neophyte under your mentor and achieved the rank of Novitiate after three years of training…Years ahead of schedule.
You were given pure sub-dermal injections to truly ward off the influence of the Warp…A process that held pain that would kill most regular men…
One hundred years of service to the Inquisition, a century of fighting the forces of Chaos and in that time your Mentor had been slain right in front of you. There was anger, guilt, sadness, all things that Astartes were not supposed to feel…
The Daemon that had slain Paladin Isander had met an end so gruesome that it took several of your brothers to drag you and your mentor's dying body away.
You were the one to hear his last words, you were the one to watch as your mentor, the man that had trained you—changed you into a Grey Knight—called in a great favor from a Captain of high renown…
You were granted the privilege of wearing his mighty Terminator armor from that day forth…
It is your honor to wear it…And a great source of guilt…
You kneel before hanging litanies of faith and pray quietly. Your hand grips your Halberd tightly as you steel yourself further for the days to come. When the giant doors of the small temple groan open you stand and turn to face the newcomers.
You salute them, standing straight. "Paladins! I greet you!" of the four that have approached you, only one salutes back.
"We have detected a minor incursion of the Daemonic along our path. You have been called to rid the moon of taint, what say you?" He stands with his arms crossed over his chest. From what you've gathered, this Paladin is one of many that disagreed heavily with you wearing the armor of your mentor.
You could hear the disdain in his voice, but you paid it no mind.
"I shall see it done, Paladin Yasik." You say strongly. Yasik, a stalwart Knight with many decorations, fights back a scoff and turns away.
You sigh deeply and roll your shoulders.
There are plenty of Grey Knights who you recognize as you go through to the ship's main teleportation room. There are even more who have heard of your mission. It's nothing grand or glorious but you gather to think that they look at your armor and think of your mentor.
That's the most logical answer.
Grey Knights see oceans of daemonic blood upon their armor. You suppose that it's time for you to be dowsed in the gore of those below.
No sooner do you step onto the platform do the machines let out a series of clunks and whirs. The plate beneath you spins while you are stationary.
You don't realize that the ocean of Grey Knights are suddenly panicking and unsheathing their weapons. You don't see how their heads snap in one direction.
A flash of light surrounds you as you teleport…
Your mission begins.
___________________________________________
A/N: My brain is cooked. I don't know why I like this so much. I think it's funny but also when I get to the other chapters it's gonna be more serious. I'm gonna bring the grimdark into this mf
A/N: Meow :3 Here's chapter three for y'all ^^ Sorry for the wait! Work has been a bit much!
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE - YOUR CRUELTY
CHAPTER TWO - MOUNTAIN MADE FLESH
___________________________________________
CHAPTER THREE - GRATING SYMPHONY
The giant of a demon spits out a glob of blood as he scrambles to get away from you. Your hand wrings the neck of a water demon. He is clawing at your arm, but you still don't let go. "You arrogant fucking PRICK!!" The Water demon is turned to paste and then ash as you squeeze his little neck like a stick.
You step over him, looming overhead like an awaiting lightning strike. "I will tell you once, IDIOTS!!" You roar out as your fingers dig into his shoulders. "THIS CITY IS MINE!! THESE SOULS ARE MINE!! And you?" A cruel chuckle leaves your lips and your teeth grow as the rage builds. "ARE NOTHING!!" Your teeth dig into his face and the flesh gives way just as easily as the bone. It's gruesome gore against your mouth for a moment before everything dissolves into smoke.
The bits and pieces in your mouth turn to ribbons of ash and they fly from your formerly dripping maw.
There are other demons that cower and skitter around the edges of the dimly lit storage house, "I will run this city's demon population into the GROUND if I must." You snarl.
"Stay out of my way." It's simple, said bluntly, but you were deadly serious. "Cut down on the soul stealing or I will KILL EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU!!" You snapped.
You pushed down the feeling of rage as you stepped back.
Your fists went to your head as you groaned. This was stupid. They were all so stupid. This didn't even need to happen. You'd forgive it. You'd take a deep breath and forgive it because this was the first time that you'd gone after this particular group. It was…
Deep breath in, look at the passing cars, ignore the little brat pointing at your bare feet, and deep breath out. Okay. Cool.
You set off back to the unfinished building that you'd had your eye on. Apparently an abandoned project from what you gathered. Sweet little old woman had talked your ears off but you'd managed to survive and learn a few things.
It was the year 2025. It had been nearly four hundred years since you'd been cast down into the Demon Realm. The project on the building had started in early 2019 and was subsequently abandoned with no fanfare or dramatics during the "Corona Virus Outbreak."
The stone that this city was made out of was actually made out a substance called Concrete and you learned about billboards…Whatever those were.
You'd gathered things from the city and brought it back. It was like your lair of sorts…Or maybe a nest? You didn't know what to call it, all that you knew is that when your body ached too much to stay awake, you came back here and lied down until you felt…Adequate.
Now you were back, clambering up the concrete spires and metal until you threw yourself into your nest and sighed. It was like the stress of dealing with those fool demons wore you down. It was refreshing to just…Relax.
That was something else. You finally had time to yourself to just relax. No responsibilities, no timelines, no more nomadic lifestyle…Just you and this giant pile of stuff that you called home. All the stuff you could eat while bartering away your stuff, all the pretty lights to see, and all of the people to just observe.
It was nice.
You looked down at your arm and snatched up a box of cookie snacks from the pile, you looked inside of the box and growled as you found nothing. You tossed the empty box into the corner before grabbing another one and looking into it. You rejoiced quietly as you got what you were looking for.
Milk cookie.
You were gentle with the wrapper, careful to not obliterate the treat before you could eat it. The cookies-both of them-were tossed into your maw and you moaned at the taste. So much sugar.
You loved it all.
Eating was like luxury times one hundred. It was amazing. There was so much! You'd just go inside, talk with someone, give them a thing, take some stuff, and leave. Same song and dance unless they were weird and then you had to just steal it because who was going to catch you? Nobody.
Anyways. You wipe the crumbs from your mouth and grin, "Love this...Oh I need more of those." You sighed and let your eyes close.
…
And then you heard whispers.
Your hand gently wrapped around yet another pipe rod and you listened carefully.
"They didn't even…"
"…Matter, it's…demon…Kill them!"
"Maybe…demons?" Two hushed disagreeing voices came in response to that. "Go…Kill them…Done with…"
Here we go again. You could feel your eyes rolling.
Except there wasn't a sudden bout of attacks while you were "Sleeping."
You debated it for a moment but alas, opened your eyes and got out of your bed. That was…Interesting.
The voices were surprisingly easy to follow. Two of the three weren't even trying to mask their footsteps, but Rumi…Rumi was effortlessly light on her toes. You'd remember that.
They were arguing about something. Demons from what you'd gathered earlier. A new group of demons that had them frazzled. There were plenty of hushed whispers about them. There were five of them, all boys, a…You wanted to cackle—A demon boy band! Wow! If ever there was a time to be alive this would be it!
You choked down a cough and bit the insides of your cheeks. This was too good!
The instant Zoey turned around you were gone. A figment of her imagination. She paused for a second but then continued with her ramblings.
What has this world gone to…You laughed.
The rod of rebar slammed across one of the demons with a sickening crack ringing out. You were laughing, full belly laughing at what you'd learned. "A DEMON BOY BAND!!" You cackled loudly and the demons surrounding you hissed.
Some of them actually backed away from you. This was a game for you, nothing more. It was entertaining and fun to fight them like this. To batter them and break them all. This was your television, your video game, it was everything. To cast down those who would bar you from anywhere!!
YOU WERE FREE FROM THAT REALM AND YOU WOULD NOT LET THEM TRY TO HOLD YOU DOWN.
"I HAVE TO SEE—" The back of your fist slams into the head of a Reaper demon, his head exploding on contact. "—ALL OF IT!!" A roar tore from your throat which was followed by a cruel cackle. They were done. Cowering. Sniveling like fools. The steel rod dropped with a series of clangs and your adrenaline shaken hands came up to your face.
Ash from the plenty that you had slaughtered was wiped away. Your fingers making streaks of your skin appear from beneath the thick layer of powdered demon flesh. You were shaking, actually shaking. It was wonderful and terrible at the same time.
In the past you often imagined what you could have done with this strength if you had stayed a Hunter. Then again, if you hadn't made that deal then you wouldn't have this strength.
A growl came from your throat and you whirled on your heel. Stepping out into the night was something that you cherished. It was still hot, but not as hot as it was inside. There were plenty of hissing from the demons still inside but you didn't care about that. Not at all.
A demon boy band was crazy. It was something that intrigued you greatly. What was Gwi-ma's plan here? Obviously disrupt the Honmoon but then what? World-wide domination? Regardless, there was no way that he had come up with the idea himself. It was too risky, too…perfect.
Attack the one thing that kept them trapped…
Your lungs were on fire in the best way, the grin on your face never dropping. You walked aimlessly through the streets, wiping away the ash and dust from your body.
Tracking them down…Tracking them down. Track down this boy band or track down the Hunters first? That was the question. Where one was the other was sure to follow. No doubt about it. This new boy band was who Huntr/x was talking about earlier. That's why you weren't attacked.
The screens were bright and colorful. It was as it always had been since you'd been back…But there was something new. An addition to the advertisments. It wasn't Huntr/x, but a new group called the SAJA BOYS. Iconography of a lion…you watched the screen for a long time. Each member appearing on the screen. The words SAJA BOYS on the top, the member in the middle and their name right below them.
There was ROMANCE, his hair was a pastel pink, a color of petals from what you could tell. He was smaller, covered in baggy clothing and had a head of hair that was…interesting. The visual shifted.
MYSTERY, true to his name, was quite hidden. His hair was a muted purple. Like a lilac or a pastel iris kind of color. There wasn't much to him other than the fact that he looked incredibly frail.
Next on the screen was ABBY. Like the first two letters of his name, nothing but muscle and sculpted torso. He looked like a fool. You wondered if he could even use those muscles properly. You doubted it. He had muscles, a deep fuchsia tint to his hair and the smile of a moron.
BABY looked precisely as his namesake. Child-like, small, a performance of cuteness to perhaps draw attention? Regardless, he was the smallest out of all of them for sure. You'd be sure to get that fact correct when you saw them for your—
Your eyes seemed to slowly widen at the screen at the next Saja boy.
JINU
His…His face…You…You knew that face. At least you think that you do? It's so uncanny, it looks just like him! It makes your jaw tighten. You snarl as Romance appears again. NO!!
No. No. No. No. No. HE WAS DEAD!!
Your feet slammed against the concrete as you stormed into the nearby alleyway. HE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD!!
Your head snapped up to the form of a water demon slowly skulking its way behind a young woman.
She is startled by a noise but there is nothing save a small puddle of ash.
For the demons that wondered the streets of Seoul it was a dark night. Throughout the night and the two days that followed there were virtually no souls that were given to Gwi-ma. Anything that could of been stolen, from a bus full of people to even an elderly woman walking home, there was always THE GIANT to kill them off.
The whispers became loud calls for answers. There were none to give. They were all being sent back just as quickly as they appeared.
There was a beast in the human realm who had claimed all of Korea as their new stomping grounds…GWI-MA'S flames flashed as he demanded silence. There were angered rippled of licking fire and that anger was reflected in the Demon Lord's forces.
"The Honmoon is breaking—Tearing at the seams—And you all can't take down one of these…New Hunters?" They all begin to shout about how it wasn't a hunter. Not one of the three.
"THEN WHAT IS IT!? WHY IS ONE BEAST DESTROYING ALL OF YOU!?" The angry flames grew brightens, a frown formed squarely in the fire of the Demon King.
There are several that try to speak up, but most are consumed in his fire. When one screams, "IT'S A DEMON!!" The roars of protest grow until Gwi-Ma thunders, "ENOUGH!!"
The flames lick at the tiles in front of him and within a second, Jinu is standing in front of him.
"There is another." The frown is seemingly permanent. The man looks down at the demons below and then up to his king, "Another what, exactly?"
"Do not get smart with me, boy!!" Gwi-Ma snaps, "There is another who stands in the human realm with my marks. This is not going to work with that demon in the way." The implication was clear. Take them out, strike a deal, anything to make sure that this plan worked.
Jinu's jaw tightened and he had to bite back the retort he was thinking about. The marks—His patterns—burned before he shook his head to clear away the slowly burning smog. "Alright! Okay…I'll make sure that this works." It was, after all, Jinu's very own plan.
He'd been the one to think of it, make it work…Any distractions would be…Unsavory. He let a forced smile make its way to his face as he stared down the giant maw of flame. "Thank you for the warning."
It was all that he had said before he blinked and the demon realm was gone.
Another demon? Another Half demon? Like Rumi? It didn't seem…It didn't seem possible. The hunter who was part demon was already one in a million…But another? In Korea and hunting demons too? That was just unheard of.
Whatever theories he came up with he would need to get rid of this obstacle. If they were caught by this supposedly powerful demon then they'd be powerless to enact his plans…
Flesh snaps and bones crack in your torrent of anger. Every demon in your path is crushed, bitten, punched, and kicked back into the realm of their maker. Your mind runs with the same sentence that you know just isn't true anymore, HE IS DEAD.
Except…His face…It was right there…You saw him, you remember that face…You remember how warm that kind face had been. You remember how softly he looked down at you with his face covered in dirt and his face pulled into an exhausted grin.
He looked…Impossibly young—Younger than how you vaguely remember him.
It's been so long. Impossibly long, too long to say if he even remembered you. If he remembered what he did.
You're leaning your head against the concrete and panting like a beast. Your maw is hanging open, drool coming out in strings. Your fists are at your side—His face flickers in your head and you snap. The wall is a ruinous tapestry of claw marks and spiderwebs from where your fists fly into the artificial rock.
The anger, the rage that had been dimmed over your years of surviving in the Demon Realm is alive like a forest lit aflame. It's hot, boiling, wrath.
You roar out, your muscles straining and hot like lava. How dare he live after all of this time? He should have killed himself for what he did to you—for what he did to your mother—He should have flung himself off of the palace walls. Instead he has the audacity to be here? Alive? Starting a fucking boy band like everything is fine? What was his end goal?
Was he a puppet now? Was he on a god damn leash?
Your fist flies to a corner of the wall and a chunk falls to the ground. You're still breathing hard.
The sound of a footstep makes your head snap to it's source. A demon spots you and you spot him.
His face of terror brings you nothing but joy as you launch yourself towards him. The Reaper demon claws at your forearm as your hand wrings his neck. You smile wickedly down at his horror stricken face and your mouth cracks open. Your teeth are at his jaw and his hairline, his hat knocked away.
You're slow with it, crunching down and feeling every snap as the bone shatters. He's screaming now, panicking. He claws at your eyes, your throat, your collar, anywhere he can reach as he tries desperately to escape.
You feel something slightly warm and round fall on your tongue when he suddenly goes silent.
You don't get to see what had entered your maw as the demon and all of his body shrivels into dust and ash…
You will kill him. You will make sure that your brother falls for the last time. When you feel a crackle of energy at your hand…you already know that you are favored.
___________________________________________
A/N: YAY!! Anyways! I hoped you enjoyed! This chapter also happens right after the girls witness the Saja Boys for the first time.
Your hammer tink-tink-tinks away at the metal studs in your armor. The Maker Ulthane does little to assist you. Not out of insult but out of awe. You, as a Human, were quite weak. It was a fact of your very species.
"Ulthane! You said something about enchantments?" It was a question that made the Maker laugh.
He points right at you, an accusatory finger, "You are a relentless!!" He's loud, but you wouldn't have it any other way. "Relentless and foolhardy!" Your eyes roll but your smile remains.
But even if your were but a Human, you had learned to make yourself armor and deigned to learn more from the Makers who kept you safe.
"I keep tellin' you, stop tryin' to fight out there!" Even though he's scolding you, Ulthane takes the strap of metal in his hands and takes a look at your handy-work.
"You know I can't do that," Your voice is sure. Stalwart like a block of stone.
"Aye, but I'll do my damnedest to convince you." He hums in thought as he scrutinizes your work. Then you hear it. The sharp call of your name and the sound of people pointing towards where you were working.
Fury, horseman of the Apocalypse, Last of the Nephilim, and the only woman among three brothers. Her gait is confident, unyielding as others move out of her way. She points at you with a glint in her eyes. "You, beloved."
You grow nervous at her tone, but in the face of one of the four who wouldn't grow a little anxious. "Yes, ma'am?" Regardless, you approach her with a grin. "I see you're back? Are you gonna stay this time or—"
"Unfortunately, no. I will not be lingering. I came to give this." She produces the small square of film with an untold gentleness. At first she was only going to present it to you, but when she catches the peeking eye of Ulthane she plants it squarely into your palm. "This is now yours. I took it on that…Camera of yours. I expect a photo like it in return."
You nod slowly and then turn the picture over.
You have to suppress the hitch in your breath. It's…It's her. A picture of Fury, obviously but—Her fingers, the clawed ends of her gauntlets dig gently into your jaw. "This is private." She whispers. "Show it off and I will—"
"Yeah, don't even worry about that."
There is silence. You, staring wide-eyed and lovingly and Fury, having your chin clutched between her fingers and her eyes narrowed. She lets go of you after a moment, teasing a kiss before stepping away with a chuckle.
"I'm off, lovely, I shall return soon." She walks off and you stare as she leaves…By everything you love that woman.
Ulthane smiles down at you, "What is it?" You shake your head quickly and stuff the photo into your pocket. You'd be sure to put that in your wallet later. "Nothin'—Anyways! How is it? Pretty good right?"
He had to ignore the flush on your face and opted to roll his eyes and nod down at the metal. "It's fine work. I'll reinforce it and maybe I'll teach you a couple of runes to etch—Hey! I said maybe!"
You're too giddy to do anything more than pump your fist in the air.
The ceiling is covered in strung up trinkets and baubles from your journey with the Horsemen. The most notable, of course, being those from your adventures with your lover.
You took out the photo from your pocket and grinned like a fool. It was a picture of Fury in all of her glory. She was bare from the waist up, the Horseman staring into the camera with a sly grin, her armored fingers in her hair, her muscles shown off, and the black markings from her neck to the tapered V-line that you'd gotten to know very well on full display.
She gave you a photo of her topless and had demanded one of you.
You laughed and hugged the photo to your chest.
As you opened your wallet and tucked the photo into the space where you could see it easily you thought , "Gotta get my camera back from Jones."
A/N: Finally done with this chapter. Good lord. It isn't the longest but I've been exhausted from work dude holy shit. ANYWAYS!! ENJOY!!
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE - YOUR CRUELTY
___________________________________________
CHAPTER TWO - MOUNTAIN MADE FLESH
Having a storm of anger bubbling under your skin was something that you were forced to live with—No—That you embraced. Every set back seemed to call a roll of thunder in your body, every interruption like talons of lightning clawing out to be released.
It didn’t at all surprise you that you were thinking back to that demon. That scrawny Water wretch that had inserted his unwelcome presence into your time for relaxation. What upset you the most is that your presence is mostly known throughout the demon realm…You had to calm the ache in your head by telling yourself that there were corners of Gwi-Ma’s realm your reputation hadn’t yet reached.
Stepping onto the train made the entire car turn and stare…You had to admit, you’d gotten bigger since you were last in the demon realm. Tons of muscle, maybe some fat, a lot of height–It didn’t matter.
You took a deep breath and stood hunched inside the box of metal. You poked and prodded at the light fixtures above you, hissing and screwing your eyes shut when the light got too bright.
It was unfortunate that the train car was packed. You would’ve liked to sit down, but…Not much you could do.
You walked to the front of the car and squinted as you approached the window. The people below you tilted and moved out of your way as your face came down to meet the afternoon sights of the city. The view passed by this contraption and your eyes were full of wonder.
The glass got closer and closer and then your nose was squished against the pane.
Everyone was staring. You looked to the side and made eye contact with a few people. There was even a little girl who was looking up at you with eyes full of wonder. Your face twists into a gentle grin and you–Your eyes snapped closed and you snarled at the sudden bright light. You shot up straight and knocked your head against the ceiling. Blinking away the sting of the flash took you a moment.
By the time you came back too, the other passengers weren’t looking at you. They made themselves quite busy on glowing bricks. Whatever that was you didn't like it.
Darkened sclera made for a poor reaction to sudden flashes. Curse your demonic form. You needed to get smaller…and look normal, but not now. You'd do it later.
Getting out of the train station was easy…Crafting a suitable human form was less so easy.
You were in in a tiled room with a reflection right in front of you. You'd made yourself only slightly shorter, it seemed that people were somewhat astonished at your height so you decided to at least keep that.
Your skin actually looked like skin now, no more purple tint or patterns. It was a good disguise! You liked it…But…Your teeth had to change…
If there was one thing that you loved about your demonic form it was how intimidating your teeth were…However, your whole mantra while you were in this box of tiles and a shiny ceramic bowl was "BLEND IN."
Your thumb hooked on your lip and you tugged it over your tusks—Didn't work—You groaned loudly before channeling your focus into making them small…But not too small. The tusks were no longer tusks but thick, pointy canines and your fangs simply shrunk. They didn't lose their edge, their danger.
A smile came to your face and your arms were thrown up as you took yourself in! You were looking good! Great, even! Yet, you weren't satisfied…Your clothes. The pelts and rags that were stolen and processed by your hand…Humming, you came to the realization that you had seen clothes before you'd gotten to the private little room.
You looked at the tiger pelt on your shoulder and picked at it…Tigers…Tigers still existed, right? They probably did and if they didn't then someone was going to be very happy with the pelt of an extinct animal! Or you could steal them…You still didn't have any money.
Thinking takes a few moments but you again, don't find it within yourself to care…Blend in…
Clothing was in so much packaging it made you nauseous. It was stupid. You had a bundle of undergarments in your hands, tearing away the clear film and the thick paper. There were little strings that you easily broke off of the thick, blue, pants—The same deal with the shirt, but the under garments sucked…
You'd considered socks and shoes but…Nah…You tried on a pair and it was an instant no from your body.
Your feet just…didn't agree.
Undergarments, the thick blue pants, a leather strap to go with it, a Grey "T-Shirt" as you'd read it, and a thin coat with metal connectors. Everything fit…Surprisingly well. You walked out of the bathroom with a sort of swagger that would have made yourself proud if you weren't absolutely out of money. It was slightly degrading.
From your little shopping trip came a can of corn…Corn. It was concealed in a container but you formed a claw and cut the metal open. You strutted out into the slowly emptying space—people in their metal carriages going away with a haste—and tilted your head back. It tasted…Oh by the gods it tasted so good. The juice was delicious, the kernels were bigger than you had expected.
"Oh…damn…This is good…" You were in heaven. Barefoot, wearing stolen clothes, and eating a can of the best food you've ever had in your life. Oh it was good.
The empty can was tossed to the side after being unceremoniously crushed between your palms. You licked at your chops, wiped your maw with the back of your wrist and looked right up at the building in front of you. Then you scaled it with ease.
You leap from building to building, scaling the taller ones and landing harshly on the shorter ones. As the buildings get taller and the lights grow brighter, you're sure that you've made it.
SEOUL, SOUTH KOREA
There were so many glowing surfaces and lots of stuff just appearing on the bright strips of light! If you could live here normally, you would…But—Woah.
On the biggest screen there was a trio. Three young women "HUNTR/X" being displayed at the bottom. Their eyes…They reminded you in some ways of your sisters. Three…Three…Could they be the Hunters? Why were they on this glowing thing?
Your eyes squint as you take in their faces. You just couldn't—You snatched it out of the air, sidestepping the hulking weapon that was thrown at you. You stared at it for a moment before your head snapped to look behind you.
Both you and your attacker traded blow for blow before the weapon disappeared from your hands. You took a step back all too soon before a sword slashed where your neck had been.
Them.
You looked behind you one more time before confirming…Yep. They were the hunters.
The three of them try to surround you, but you're circling them just as much as they're circling you. It's silence between the four of you and you realize…You're outnumbered three to one. You let out an airy laugh as you think, I like these odds.
You know things. Like how you know that the smallest one would attack first with her Shin-kal to distract you while the one with the Woldo would strike heavy where you weren't looking. But what would those two attacks be without the close combat of the sword in the third ones hand?
You catch a knee to your chin, but turn it to your advantage as you grip the back of her shirt and launch her at the one with the really sharp eyes. You try to regain your footing but you end up catching the sword to your face. You growl and jog, turning back as they're getting ready to attack you again. You point at the girl with purple hair, "You fight just like me! It's like looking in a mirror!" She sneers at your words.
"I fight better than you, demon." You laugh at that statement as the only person who was better than you was your mentor…And she's dead. So not only were you in a spot where you knew of their fighting styles, they didn't have five Hunters after you this time.
You want to fight. You really do, but you're jumping away before they can even begin another round of quick assaults. "Are you kidding me?!" The one with the Woldo shouts.
They're all after you and you can finally get a good look at all of them. That, coupled with the passing surfaces showing their faces and names makes it easy for you to put names to your attackers.
Mira, the one with the Woldo, pink hair, with eyes as sharp as her weapon. Zoey, smallest of the three, black hair, quick on her feet, and versatile with her Shin-kal. Rumi, the one whose fighting style is just a more complicated version of your own. Purple hair, braid down to her ankles, and a slightly shorter blade.
Yeah. This was going to be easy. You're sure that there were spars tossed into their training, but they'd never fought a Hunter who had become a demon. You know that. YOU. KNOW. THAT.
The rhythm is there, you can smell it, taste it, feel it on your skin. It's broken for you. There's nothing but off key notes and jarring harmonies. You snarl at it. At their combined chords.
You used have that some time ago before your fall, but having it turned against you again just made your blood boil.
Rumi clearly overshot her strike as her blade flew right past your entire body. Your hand grips her ankle and she's spiked down into the stone. You slam her again and then toss her to the side. You snarl as Mira grabs Rumi's hand and hoists her up to flat ground.
Zoey is like a whirlwind of blades and you lament that she reminds you of the youngest of your trio. It's upsetting. Both making you sad and enraged. Your luck hasn't run out, however, your heel strikes below and a long metal pipe is in your hand. The Shin-kal are deflected and with a terrifying swiftness, the pipe strikes in an sideways arc and connects with a crack on Zoey's jaw.
"YOU ARE THE HUNTERS OF TODAY!?" You cackle at them, your eyes wide and crazed.
You growl, pointing an accusing finger at the trio. They crouch, yet again ready to strike you down. Your teeth feel too big and your eyes burn as you stare. "THE STANDARD HAS FALLEN." You snap. You laugh, "Let me guess, 'We are hunters, voices strong, slaying demons with our song, fix the world and make it right, when darkness finally meets the light,' do I have that right?"
Mira launches herself at you but her strikes are easily evaded. You grab the staff of the weapon and fling the woman against a wall, letting your knee fly up and catch her by the ribs as she falls.
You look down at her as she struggles to breathe, the wind knocked out of her lungs. "I'VE FOUGHT…" Your face twists painfully, "I've fought against better."
Rumi tries to catch you off guard, swinging her blade but with how upset you were over their display the pipe just…deflected the blow. Three strikes. That's all it took. Three blows from the metal tube to send the girl away. Your elbow caught her ribs and you groaned dramatically in disappointment. You wanted a better fight!
"Go back to training, how you three are still alive is beyond me." They all watched as the giant demon jumped down the side of the building, the pipe clanking as it was forgotten.
Mira had to lean against the wall of the rooftop access, coughing and then gingerly bringing her fingers to her torso. Definitely broken. "What was that?" Rumi was the first to speak. That simple question making them realize very quickly that they were outmatched. This was just like two years ago with the Whisper demon.
Zoey rubbed at the knot forming on the back of her head, her eyes flinching shut as she touched the sore spot. "Maybe we should ask Celine?" That's what they did last time. Celine was back at their monastery with an incredible wealth of knowledge at her fingertips. If anyone could give them information, she was the woman to go to. Mira hissed, taking a deep breath and pushing through the incredible pain.
Rumi looked down at her shoes for a moment. She was frustrated. The counter strikes were flawless. No other demons had ever given the girls this much trouble. Not physically anyway. Mentally, absolutely, but in hand to hand combat? Them being beaten was…a tough pill to swallow.
Mira hisses into the phone as she storms past the door. She and the girls settle into the couch with supplies. Medical baubles and bandages to seal their wounds.
"That demon towered over us, Celine, you don't get it!" At this point the woman was venting her frustration at being beaten by a demon. "So…You didn't go after it?" There was a resounding "NO" from all three of them. Celine suppressed a little laugh.
"Alright, describe this demon, if you please." Rumi tends to the bleeding knot on the back of Zoey's head as she speaks, "It was…Tall, very tall. Like if a building was given arms and legs—anyways—" She waves her hand in front of her face. She goes onto describe all of you. Your eyes, your height, how you looked really human and how you were wearing human clothes. The more she spoke the more tense things got.
Zoey hissed out a gentle "Ow" and Rumi quickly apologized, "It knew the creed, Celine, all of it! Demons are cast back into the Demon Realm when they're slain, right?"—"Correct."—"So it is possible for a Demon to come back and fight again?" Rumi's voice holds an edge to it, Mira nods like its a good question, and Zoey's hands clench in her lap as the sting of alcohol blooms from her jaw.
"Yes…And no…There are certain types of demons that seem to be numerous—You said they looks entirely human?" Rumi hums, "Yeah, it was weird…It had teeth that looked a little too big for its mouth but other than that? Fully Human." Her thumbs brush against the tape securing the tiny patch to the youngest ones jaw. "I mean, if we hadn't seen it literally scale a building with its bare hands we probably wouldn't have known better."
"I see…I…" Celine stops herself for moment. "I've always told you three how demons can't step onto the grounds of our monastery, right? Those under Gwi-Ma's control can't step onto our protected soil?" The girls all say yes. Mira, more slowly than Rumi and Zoey.
"I think there's a demon out there that's…Connected to what you just saw. There was a demon here, in the burial grounds last night." Rumi shoots up, but Zoey yanks her back down and rubs alcohol onto Rumi's wound. She hisses, "Do you need us to come back? We might be able to redo the wards if it's getting weaker—ow!" Zoey whispers a little sorry.
"No! No. You three are far too busy to be coming back…Regardless, I don't think that the wards got weaker. I've felt them, they're still strong." Celine sighs over the phone, "For the first time in a long time, girls, I don't know." It'd been way too long since Celine had fought a demon of this caliber. This was power. Raw power rolled into a creature that didn't belong on this plane.
It was going to be difficult to defeat.
The girls knew that…
Celine, she unraveled a parchment from the far back of their archives. Notes and drawings taken by the hunters of old to document and prepare those of the next generation. It was so aged that Celine was worried she might ruin it. Her lithe fingers gently unrolled the paper and the calligraphic writing and the drawings made her pause.
There, right in front of her eyes, was a statement from the oldest of the Hunters. A sort of confession. A vague admission of guilt spilling out in the ink. All that was said was that a fellow Hunter had turned on her sisters in a crucial moment of strengthening the Honmoon...
The text only read that the Hunter wished that she had realized how much pain was there before things took a turn for the worse.
There was a knot in Celine's brow as she read and her eyes narrowed at the old parchment.
There were plenty of demons who taunted the Hunters with their creed…She tucked the thought into the back of her head as she thought that YOU were nothing different.
___________________________________________
A/N: Sooooo yeah! The girls are here after only a few chapters! Again, short and sweet. I want to keep the mystery for the girls.
I REALLY REALLY REALLY LOVE HEARING IDEAS FROM OTHER PEOPLE!!! I LOVE IT SO MUCH!!! I may not respond but I promise, I see you, and I love every idea!! It gets my creative juices flowing!!!
My asks should be open if people are interested! My inbox is empty!!!
pairing: heavily implied (if not outright) polytrix
warnings: sickness, demonic possession, insecurities, family issues, angst, hurt/comfort
plot: it wasn't an impossible statement to say getting the job to be HUNTR/X's assistant, or that, since their debut five years ago, it's sustained you ever since. constantly in motion, the work you put painstaking, careful hours into was halted by a sudden sickness. undeterred and unwilling to let a weakness stop you in the face of a new rival idol group and the upcoming idol awards, you push through. fine plan in theory, but practice, when the three girls you watched climb to stardom start to notice, doesn't always make perfect.
372 applicants. That's how many people there were before you were determined to be the ideal candidate, when, at the time, you were sure your interview was going to go about as horribly as it could’ve.
You woke up early— way earlier than you needed to, just to make sure you were well-polished and immaculately dressed. You were both things when you arrived, also way earlier than you needed to, but something was wrong. You didn't know what; you had five copies of your resume printed, which was loaded with impeccable references, by the way. You'd rehearsed what to say, how to say it, how to sit, how to act. You'd climbed the ranks at your latest endeavour, and it was time to find more. You were competent, you were a good worker, and you were going to get that job.
So, why couldn't you truly believe that?
Perhaps, you could start with the fact that what you were classifying as "more" was about twenty steps up from your current gig at a local indie record label. At the time, you'd been itching to fill the yawning pit in your soul; you'd grown tired of making copies of sheet music and playing piano for idol wannabes. And, no, it wasn't exactly a drastic step-up to become a new idol group's assistant, but you decided this job was different when you'd heard about it through the industry grapevine.
Celine of the Sunlight Sisters, a favorite of yours growing up, was forming a new idol group, with her adoptive daughter and child of her deceased fellow Sunlight Sister, Rumi, at the center. Word on the street was that they'd already gotten two other girls, and that any up-and-coming artists should release their music while they had time. Because once those girls debuted, it was over. Along with those whisperings came talk of job opportunities. Supposedly, somewhere, through networks your boss trusted you enough with, there was a listing for an assistant. You saw a twinkle of a tear in his eye at the prospect of losing as good a worker as you, but he knew just as well as you did that you were meant to soar.
Well. As far as you could with clipped wings.
You bristled at the stinging memory, your body following the standard procedures for when you thought about it. The clench in your throat, the sweat on your brow, the stem of a headache budding at your temple, the phantom of an all-body-consuming thrum in your bones.
A rather inopportune time, you decided while standing in front of the absolutely massive building. Just how many people lived here? Worked here? What exactly was it? And what exactly made you think you could measure up? You tended to ask questions when distressed. Many of them.
You gave your identification at the front door, vetted by appointments that you double and triple-checked the confirmation emails for before arriving. They let you in with a terse nod, and you had to hone your control over your face to conceal your shock at the opulence. High ceilings, sleek and modern designs, light fixtures that twinkled like the ones you saw on stage... It was, quite honestly, an interior design wonder, with all the statues and artwork lining the walls. When the elevator opened, you had to fight your own jaw from gaping at the size of it. It was bigger than your entire apartment!
Get a grip. You don't want them to see you're not cut out for this, do you?
The man managing the elevator must've heard the hitch in your breath when your forehead throbbed; he sent you a quick look, but didn't say anything. He just gave a look that suggested he knew what you were here for, and that you weren't the first.
And won't be the last either.
The stretch from the ground floor to the 20th was brutal. You took mental hits, beating them back with little victory. You didn’t feel any better when the man said nothing when you thanked him.
You at least had a few minutes to yourself, using them to get your flooding river of thoughts under control. You held your hands, cold as ice, to your face which was hot to the touch. You felt sluggish, and like the adrenaline of the what-ifs could make you run a marathon. It made it so frustratingly grounding to remain seated with that sickened, frenetic anxiety.
You should've packed a water bottle. You could've used something to satisfy the dryness suddenly taking over your mouth. You should've packed some ibuprofen or something; you knew that things like this happened when you got nervous, so what could've made you overlook that? You thought could handle this— you could handle it.
You always do this…
Repeating to yourself that you were capable of anything you put your mind to, you countered every horrid insult to your abilities while your headache worsened.
This is going to end horribly.
It hasn't even begun.
It began the moment you stepped inside, and you failed.
That isn’t true.
You already did once. You’ll do it again.
Through the fire tearing through your mind, some unseen force from above sucked the life from its flame. You were left bereft from its swift work, doing in a moment what years of dreaming couldn't. It was almost eerie, the quietness of your own mind when there was nothing there to fill it.
Slowly, it replenished with something else. Singing. A melodic call bound you to your spot. Enraptured, you bathed in the threads of two voices weaving a harmony, until another melded three voices into one sound. Like ocean waves, you envisioned swooping curves, notes rolling over elongated chords until they faded. But like those tides, full and unwearied, continued at the next breath, as if returning that which was in short supply for you.
Chest rising, oxygen poured into your body, soothing the ache there in an instant. Your eyes, when after a few blinks had returned to functioning, marked a pattern on the ceiling. Drawn to the sound of the enchanting voices, you felt your headache dwindle into a solitary muscle twitch at your temple. The once-hot feeling beneath your blazer subsided, the sweat on your brow drying in the air conditioning. You felt… yourself again.
You didn't get to find the source of the medicinal sound when a woman with a clipboard emerged from behind a partition, instructing you to follow her.
Of the three faces that stared back at you when a heavy door opened, only one smiled. He was eccentrically dressed for an interview, but there wasn't an edge of judgment like you saw in the man you recognized from HR during your pre-screening call. He made up for the leopard-print sequin jacket with a glimmer of encouragement he sent your way, introducing himself as Bobby, complimenting your extensive resume. But the last person, the woman in the middle, needed no introduction— Celine of the Sunlight Sisters, one of, if not the biggest idol group in the 2000s.
You tried not to let that get to you.
The interview started easily enough: "Tell us about yourself."
You had your exact answer ready for that; your elevator pitch was a proud point for you. You provided detailed information about your recent employment history, outlining your day-to-day duties before your promotion. You were laying your skills out when your speech caught around a melody. Up until that point, whatever voices circled your head were merely riffs and runs, but the distinct patterns of words threw you off kilter. Your tongue went heavy in your mouth, stumbling over your words until you drifted off, giving up on them altogether.
"Honey, are you okay?" The sweet man who introduced himself as Bobby asked.
The heat of embarrassment captured your cheeks when you blinked back into reality. You clear your throat, emboldened by your need for this interview to go just so. "I-I am so sorry. It's just that— well…" You wave a general hand to the air with a sheepish pinch to your face. "This music is absolutely beautiful, it's just I-I can't seem to focus with it on."
There's a beat. A very long one. A bit too long, actually. You start to sweat again, only this time it's from the absolute blank, open-mouthed stare you were receiving from Bobby. The longer you sat like that, the more you started to fear that they couldn't hear the music, too.
Your only hope was that Celine hadn't flinched at your behavior, though that was short-lived. In fact, you feared the worst when she whispered something to Bobby. Not even that music could stop the knot forming in your stomach when you heard him question, "Are you sure?"
She didn't deign to answer, standing directly over both of you. Her stare sent shockwaves of worry to your core. You braced yourself for whatever reprimand for the poor workplace conduct you were displaying, but that was in vain. "Would you like to join me on a tour of the studio?"
Huh?
Surely you hadn't heard her correctly— you were just messing up big time during an interview! That was bad, wasn't it? At least it was according to every blog you'd read and career panel you'd ever attended in high school. You were crafting another question in your growing stream of them when you realized you'd be stupid to deny K-Pop royalty, and even stupider to keep her waiting.
You nodded, your words failing you. She didn’t wait for you to get up out of your chair to start walking out of the room. You gave Bobby and the man from HR another nod of your head and excused yourself to run after Celine, who was now at the elevators.
Only when the elevator doors closed did you realize that Celine hadn't offered you an out, just merely chose to conduct the interview elsewhere. Unconcerned by the doorman, who didn't hide his shock at seeing you both together, Celine prompted, "You were talking about your current work experience, yes?"
Caught up in following her lead, you blanched, forgetting what you were actually there for. Taking a steadying breath, guided through the music growing louder in your ears, you explained, "I-I originally started at my company as a pianist for rehearsals, but last June, I was promoted to office assistant. A lead assistant."
"You know your way around an office— that's good. You can get comfortable in an office, though. What about an arena? A stadium? Where there are tens of thousands of fans and you can’t get comfortable?"
Confidence that hadn't once been there oozed out of you, the answer coming easily to you, which was a surprise in all honesty. You didn't think that meticulous note taking during worksite visits would pay off so handsomely. "I've worked smaller venues before; I've found it isn't really the scale that matters when it comes to managing a performance. Expected attendance notwithstanding, you can make any venue work with any artist! If you have the proper communication tactics, that is."
The elevator pinged, the doors opening to a floor shinier than the one you were last on. There was a glow that you didn't notice in the floors below, as if sunlight was pumped into the air. You took one step down the fall, where the light appeared to be the brightest, and were stopped by a manicured hand wrapped tightly around your wrist.
"It's this way."
For some reason, you knew that wasn't right. You felt it in your blood that it wasn't, but you didn't know this place. You couldn't make that claim to the very woman who owned the building. So you nodded, following along as the message carrying through your body told you to turn back around.
"I noticed on your resume that you've taken college courses during your high school years, but haven't sought higher education. It won't impact my decision on your employment, but with your gap in experience— I admit I'm a bit curious if there's a reason for that."
Unmoved by the steadiness still ringing around your head, now louder, you carefully began, "Life circumstances forced me to pivot from my original plans post-graduation."
You call what happened a "life circumstance?" A weakened flame of a nightmare flickered to your consciousness.
"What did you hope to pursue, if you don't mind me asking?"
"I don't." You wistfully smile, feeling comfortable in the nostalgia of what might've been. "It was music. And I've… never been good at giving up, so I took my most recent job to keep in practice."
"And, do you think applying to be a simple assistant will get you any closer to that dream?"
That should've rattled you. It was cut-throat, but innocent enough, relevant enough to be asked. It wasn't an uncommon question, but from Celine, it felt like an interrogation, with the unshakable tone she spoke in. Another day, in another place where there wasn't something so alluring dulling you to your inhibitions, you would've sifted through your professional terminology to come up with something to say. You didn't have to do any of that.
"To be completely honest? Those 'dreams?' That's… all they can truly be." Dimly, you confess. "It's not my intention anymore to create music; it can't be, but it doesn't mean I can ever truly stop loving music. I wouldn't give it up for anything. If it means being a simple assistant, as you say, to be around music, then I’ll do it. It’s my aim to be successful in whatever I want to put my mind to, and if that means being the best assistant this industry has ever seen, then I’ll do that too. It’s that worth it to me.”
You didn't realize your path had been righted until you found yourself facing a corridor bursting with life. Laughter-dotted lyrics spilled from beneath a door with a large window at the end of the hall, the same lyrics that had kept your attention so disrupted. It was strange… You heard it so clearly before, but you heard it now, just the same. The ventilation in this building must've been excellent…
You don't know when Celine let you take the lead, but you saw only your reflection in the glass when you reached the door. Inside, you saw the singers gathered around a piano, their voices melting together like the snow into a bountiful spring. There were three of them, roughly your age, all with an air distinct to themselves.
You notice the tallest first, only because of the way she tries to maintain a hardened stare when a girl with two messy buns at the base of her head tries to poke her cheek to make her break. You can't help but smile a little too when the girl with pink hair to match her height put her chin just out of reach of the shorter of the two, and beamed more when you saw one of her buns had a pencil stuck through it. Another found it amusing with you, and you briefly wondered how you overlooked a literal celebrity. Rumi looked different in person, but also the same. You recognized her features from every magazine from your teenage years, though there was a certain softness to her that the photos didn't capture. It was a shyness to her smile that those two brought out in her, which was refreshing to see, especially since it was unfiltered by her already inhuman beauty.
Your chest stirred, fingers trembling to reach it. You had to fight to control the sudden wave of emotion when Celine appeared behind you in the glass.
"Is this them?" You wondered. She nodded, and you were in awe that you got to see them before they even made their debut. If they were this good now, imagine the things they could do years from now. Especially when their interactions seemed as natural as their talents. "They're amazing…" To put it lightly. "I… can see why you put so much time into finding the right group. They… They're going to do great things, I can tell."
You didn't mean to stare, but their interactions were as entertaining as their music. You only realized you were when you made very direct eye contact with Rumi, now alert, and cutting off the steady stream of music you'd been floating on.
You dropped back to Earth utterly embarrassed for having gone so slack in front of four people, one being the person you were hoping to be a future employer. You stiffened in mortification, face burning hot while awkwardly waving to remedy your creepy fixation. Only the girl with the pencil in her hair waved back.
Celine excused herself for you to move, and out came a strained apology for more than just being in the way. She didn't have to, because you watched all three girls hurry to stand, but she summoned them anyway, "Girls, there's someone I'd like you to meet."
You scurried behind her. You weren't exactly expecting to be introduced to the group you were interviewing to work for—sort of seemed like there were a few missed steps. It didn't help that you felt so… other. Ramrod straight behind Celine while the three girls fell into a line formation, you fidgeted with your blazer, making sure it was straight, then your headband, and everything on you until you were smoothed over, as if you'd been freshly ironed.
You could see how hard they were trying to stay focused on Celine, but all were varying shades of effort. Rumi was the most resolute, but in the brief seconds her mother's attention was elsewhere, she slipped her attention to you. Though the first and only time you caught her doing so, her cheeks turned pink before correcting her focus. The tallest took peeks at you, where she'd look you up, then down, then up again, as if she distrusted you. Unlike Rumi, she wasn't so quick to break eye contact. You had to be the one to do it, and when you did, it fell to the shortest, and evidently youngest, who didn't hide her apparent fascination with your presence.
It wasn't easy to put on a relaxed face when you were anything but. Self-consciousness settles into your skin. You didn't think their staring was backed by judgment, the same way you hoped they realized yours wasn't, but you felt nervous all the same. Difficult not to be when all three of them were impossibly pretty, a fact that didn't go unnoticed by you. Actually, it was probably one of the first things you noticed about them as a collective— it was almost unfair how gorgeous they all were.
Celine called each of their names. The girls stepped up, their names written in the air like calligraphy in your mind.
The girl with the pencils and contagious energy was named Zoey.
The girl who didn't seem to know the concept of tact, which was admirable to you, was Mira.
And the girl you grew up with through pictures in magazines— Rumi.
All of this should've felt so overwhelming, and in a way, it still was. You were prepared to epically fail in introducing yourself after Celine gave them your name, but didn't get that chance. Adding to your title, Celine announced, "She's going to be your new assistant."
"We get an assistant?" The girls named Zoey and Mira cheered at the same time you gasped, "I got the job?"
Your mouth hung open slightly. You closed it to maintain a reply that was appropriate to Celine's earnestness. Minimally responsive but appreciative, you took her hand, shaking it with a curt, "Thank you." Emboldened with grateful shock, you turned to the new group you were slated to bolster in their idol careers. You bowed once more, trying to maintain your professionalism. Tried, at least. "It is an honor to be work–"
Something faster than your eye could catch flew at you full force, throwing your physical and mental fortitude off-kilter. You stumbled back in a vain attempt to right yourself. Zoey hugged you— you eventually realized that's what it was— and squealed, "Welcome to the team! Does this mean I get to say 'hold my calls?' Quick, how much do you know about gacha games on a scale of–?"
At the same time, Celine let out a chastising bite, Rumi, from behind, called her name in a tone decidedly much sweeter. Gently, Rumi reminded her, "She's going to be our assistant? Not our secretary.”
“And she only just got the job?” Mira rolled her eyes, though there was the hint of a smirk tugging at her lips. “Maybe let her settle in with that first.”
Zoey had already removed herself, her face somewhat apologetic. It dispelled quickly when you gave her a smile that came from the genuine depths of your soul. Gratefulness swelled— you hadn't realized you needed something, anything to break the residual tension you harbored in your body, like stamping out the last burning coals of a fire.
"You girls will have plenty of opportunity to get to know her later," Celine guided you around. "For now, we have to go back downstairs for some paperwork with HR."
You couldn't help but laugh at their visible disengagement at the thought of boring paperwork. You expressed your excitement to work together again, readying to leave when you were struck by the urge to speak out of turn. Strange for you with your usual reserved nature when there weren't lines to follow, and even more so when you descended quicker than you wanted.
"Oh," You couldn't help but say it. You didn't want to, for fear of saying the wrong thing, the wrong way; some part of you knew they should hear it, if not that you just didn't need to say it. "You all were absolutely… captivating? Y-You were– you were just… fantastic. A-Amazing." You let out a breathy laugh, not sure how to describe what you heard. "I just– And I guess you can say that, um, I’m a fan already…”
Zoey's face immediately broke into a full-blown grin, the prospect making her visibly giddy while she stage-whispered to the others, "Our first fan!"
Mira, having maintained her impassivity during the encounter, bared a tiny flash of her warmth. It wasn't long, but you saw it. Maybe you could fix that with time.
And Rumi, she seemed surprised. You wondered why; it wasn't hard to see the lengths their sound would go.
A/N: Just so people are aware , this isn't going to be a romantic fic. I may do like short blurbs of this reader if requested but other than that short message, enjoy :]
PROLOGUE
___________________________________________
CHAPTER ONE - YOUR CRUELTY
To be controlled by anger is a weakness. To harness rage is strength.
In the Demon Realm you were solitary. You’d fought and raged against anything that moved. Various demons tried and failed to bully you into compliance, into submission, but you’d simply cut them down and be on your way. You were a nomad who would spill blood without regret or guilt.
Streaks of blue shot across the sky like meteors and you could almost feel compelled enough to follow them. This wasn’t the time.
Through the grapevine you heard that Gwi-Ma was gaining strength and that the Honmoon was beginning to waiver. How that was being done you had no idea, but it was intriguing for one and an excellent opportunity for two.
There were demons of all shapes and sizes lying dead all around you. The biggest one had pissed you off the most, hence why the pig was torn apart, gutted, and skinned. It was painful. You made sure of that.
They had done what every demon in this realm did. They tried to control you. You’d be damned before letting that happen.
You looked down at the stone before you and kneeled, your claws running deep into the rock. The stone might as well have been water the way that your fingers sank down through it.
The humid breeze hit your fingers and you sank deeper and deeper into the ground below. The realm of Gwi-Ma was stagnant and neutral. You couldn’t enjoy the cold anymore than you could enjoy the heat from before. This feeling of overwhelming warmth was very welcome.
You wanted to laugh as the Honmoon split for you to emerge from that dreary place. You could finally feel your feet as your toes dug into soil. This place was…different. Warmer than before. There was more tension, but you decided to blame that on your demon physiology.
It’s been…A long time.
You let the pelts and furs fall from your shoulders and over your arms. They were clothes just as much as they were trophies. Taken from demons across the realm that had crossed you.
Laughter rose from your chest like a fire rising from ash. You were back in your realm…YOU WERE BACK!!
You shouted in victory with your teeth bare and your hands curled into fists above your head.
You were climbing up a tall hill before you knew it and you had no choice but to stop as you looked forward. There were lights. Brilliant cascades of blues, purples, and pinks. Buildings that were rectangular shot up towards the sky. They were different. Changed.
You found that your smile hadn’t gone away.
You knew it was probably a bad idea but you were traversing barefoot on the thick slabs of stone and catching stares. You licked your tusks and fangs with no regard for those around you. You were also pretty stinky. Nose blind to it now but the way people were flinching away from you made you immediately aware of that.
So…What was the goal here? You weren’t exactly under Gwi-ma’s control…You had no obligation to anyone but yourself…
Your brother…He was probably dead now. If these were the buildings of the future (you didn’t even know how much time had passed) then you were pretty sure that he was gone…
So was your Mother…
If he was gone then there was no question of your Mother…
Maybe you could find her…You wanted to see her grave…If she was given one. A part of you, something small and nostalgic, dared to hope that she was given a proper burial.
The city was…stuffy. It was too crowded and your hearing was way too sharp for you to just be walking casually. You got out of there and wandered for a long time.
Further and further until you felt what could’ve been nothing. It was like a pressure had just appeared on your wrist.
Whether it was foolish or not you didn’t care. Your feet were moving before you could stop them.
A tightness came for your throat and you could feel the tears. How long has it been since you cried? You and your wicked claws, your purple skin, and your patterns…Gods your patterns…
You came across a hulking Seonangdang and let your head whirl around. Despite your increasing anxiety over being in this place you just—You had to see it. You needed to see it. She wasn’t you, your Mother deserved a proper burial.
You looked at the names and read them. You kept reading and searching but you couldn’t…You couldn’t find her.
A brutal sob wracked through you as you spun on your heel. It was the same little burial spot that you had seen before. That’s where the pressure was coming from but your mother’s name wasn’t on there! It wasn’t there!
You approached the stones with a frustrated expression. Did they even bury her? Was that her punishment for begging for your forgiveness?
You trekked around the little site and stared at the back. A tiny, insignificant block of stone was right there. Covered in moss and uncleaned for…years…
The grass dug into your knees as you touched it. You tore your hand away as if you were burned. You didn’t deserve this… This was a disrespectful gesture. A gesture, but one that you found the insult in.
You didn’t even need to wonder why that pressure was coming from the main part of the burial site. She was underneath them.
They couldn’t even carve out her name. They buried your mother beneath themselves and gave her this tiny stone with no—You forced your fists to relax and you slowly picked away the moss. Your claws scraped away the green that was stuck to it and you picked away the grass that was concealing it.
You bowed deeply and felt overwhelming pangs of regret. You had already gone through the throws of anguish before but it felt worse now having seen how she was disrespected in death.
You gasped and shot up to your feet. There was somebody else here. One last glance was spared to your Mother’s heart-wrenching, small, headstone before you ran.
Anxiety shot up through your spine as you ran. There was some semblance of peace when you were approaching the city.
You stumbled down into the dirt and flipped yourself onto your back. You couldn’t—what?—This—It hurts. Your chest ached and you closed a fist over your sternum. One hand over your hammering heart and the other balling up the dirt.
You growled and curled in on yourself. Anger, frustration, and sadness whirled around your mind as you thought Why?
She was the one person who didn’t deserve to be treated like that. Your mother was the best out of all of your family.
Your brother had abandoned the both of you—You were this thing—and she had only begged for mercy…Your breathing became normal and you felt…weightless…
The same bite of anxiety you felt now was similar to how you felt when you were desperately clinging to your brother’s retreating fingers. His face, the look on his face as he left the both of you made your breathing tumble out of you…
Memories with your Mother…The fleeting moments with your brother and how you’d all suffer as a family played again. Then there were times that you sobbed into your Mother’s arms as you returned to your home. The dirt and the grime sticking to your skin as fat tears rolled over your skin.
Mother’s pinky running down your nose…That comforting memory combined with how mentally exhausted you were made you fall asleep in the dirt…
It wouldn’t be the first time…
Sunlight was foreign after years of not seeing it. There was no sun in the Demon Realm. There were only the whispers of false moonlight and the flames of Gwi-ma.
You woke up and immediately got to your feet. What could have been decades of darkness and paranoia hardwired your brain to be on the defensive. Even if you didn’t need to be.
Warmth came over your body in waves. The grass was suddenly beneath your palm as you kneeled in the dirt. It was…so soft…
It had been quite some time since you’d seen genuine nature. Back in the Demon Realm everything looked the same. It was bland and dreary, but here it was all soft and green. There weren’t plants that were super prickly, it was just gentle…And there.
There was time to kill. Hopefully.
You needed a bath desperately. It was beginning to weigh on you that the dirt and grime wouldn’t be appropriate if you wanted to blend in…Blend in.
That was another thing, “Blending in.” It would be a bit difficult, you thought, if you weren’t exactly well versed in the subject of modern Korean culture or even how the language further developed…It’d be a pain.
You could start with the city. Ask some questions, and find out how many years have passed since your damnation to Gwi-ma’s realm…Hoo boy.
There was a lot to unpack in regards to that. It would be a bit complicated but there are…things to talk to! Like rocks and of course trees and even the grass! It’d be…amazing to look like a crazy person…
You felt yourself grimace and your lips warp over your tusks.
Traversing the city of rock and glass was surprisingly easy. There were plenty of people who stood clear but there were also many who complimented your costume as it were. You ignored them and journeyed to the sign you understood. Jjimjilbang. There was a brand of some sort of but you didn’t care about that. You only cared to go inside and wash up.
As soon as you came inside you were greeted politely by a rather perplexed young woman. Her words were gentle as she pointed to the spot in front of her. There was a small piece of paper covered in a clear substance about how entry was ₩20,000…But…You didn’t have any money. At all. There wasn’t even a single Won to your name.
You looked up at her and she fidgeted as she stared back at you.
Before you knew it you were unclipping a demon’s gilded tusk from your belt and putting it down on the table. She looked down at it, sputtered, before grabbing the rather heavy thing and guiding you towards the back. The woman was muttering about how this had to have been some kind of joke and that there was no way that the tooth or the gold was real.
There were lines of compartments and the young woman nervously gestured to one. Naturally, you were perplexed and poked at it. “Is this…A chest of some kind?” When it opened you looked inside and then began to strip off your furs and pelts. The young woman, dressed in white, averted her eyes in respect and poked at the gilded tooth. She wondered immediately where this fang came from. It was so big for a tooth or a claw.
The furs you adorned were folded and set inside of the white chest. It felt odd to be without them, but you were in need of being cleaned. You could feel the humidity from outside clinging to your naked body, but it felt amazing. It was kind of suffocating, but in a strangely good way.
The woman seemed to quickly realize that you were naked so she scurried away and got you a rather large towel. You secured the garb at your waist and before you knew it you were in front of a…spout. It was a spout. You curiously poked and prodded at it before gently twisting the knob by its side. The woman seemed shocked at your reaction, which was a small flinch and immediately putting your hand under the stream of cool water.
You seemed in awe of this place…Every luxury you had been deprived of you suddenly had access to. The running water, infinite you thought, was simply pouring out from the shiny metal tube. You muttered out a soft, “Woah…”
She explains that here is where you can actually wash yourself and you begin before she can finish her explanation. Her face shifts into a gentle grin before she gestures behind you. “You may relax in the baths just back here.” She says. She earns a curt nod from you, a muttered thank you, before she retreats back to the front with the trophy that you had obtained some time ago.
A small brush was made useful almost immediately and you scrubbed away so many years of grime and ash. You could see your skin going a brighter purple as you vigorously scrubbed the dirt away.
The feeling of washing that realm from your skin was incredible…
Sinking down into the water was a miracle unto itself. It felt amazing. It was a comforting warmth that sank into your very bones. You’d passed by others who stared at you and your skin, but you hadn’t given it much thought. This was about you. You’d earned the right to be a bit selfish. It was just you now, no one else…
Hours seemed to pass and you snuggled deep down to your mouth in the liquid. The fact that there was this much water in one spot was already grand, but a warm tub full of the stuff? That was a thing of the royals…
Many of the people had left so you were alone, kneeling in the water that never cooled…
A frigid hand appeared at your waist and before they could even touch you, you had a hand wrapped squarely around their throat. You rose with an agitated snarl and glared daggers at the water demon in your grip.
“What is this!?” You snapped. The demon choked on the lack of air and clawed at your arm. It didn’t do anything more than piss you off and you squeezed harder. “You are incredibly bold for that, wretch.”
“Any souls in this place–any souls in this city, are MINE!” You looked around the cube of water and ceramic tiles before taking the water demon in your hands and squeezing.
“WAITWAITWAITWAITWAIT!! PLEASE, WAIT!!” You were compelled to stop as the little mongrel got some air. You paused, staring right at his eye with an untold amount of rage. “PLEASE! I HAVE–I HAVE INFORMATION!!” You shook him, “QUIET YOUR VOICE, WELP.”
He took a moment to breathe. “There–There are Hunters in the next city over, in SEOUL!” He began to beg for his life. You simply rolled your eyes and started to squeeze. It didn’t take too much effort for the demon to simply pop between your palms.
The little thing disappeared into a plume of smoke and you huffed in annoyance. Staying anywhere near humans would be difficult if you also had to worry about hunters in the next city over. It would be more difficult to have them come over here, but maybe…It was stupid, but you didn’t really have any sort of choice. If there was ever a place to gather information it would come from the heart of the nation…
Even if it was putting yourself into the fire, to know that Hunters were around after so long.
You snarled again at such an unwelcome intrusion before stomping out to gather your furs and pelts.
___________________________________________
A/N: I'm way too inspired by this movie holy hell. If I keep this going and you'd like to be put on a taglist for future chapters then please let me know ^^
WORD COUNT: 2,567
A/N: Hello! It's been a bit but I watched the movie, read an idea and became inspired! YAY! Regardless, thank you to @silverryuan for writing the idea!!
Please, enjoy!
_______________________________________________
PROLOGUE
She was weak and frail beyond measure. Her bone-thin hand being cradled by your trembling palm. She was dying. Your mother, consumed by her regrets, was dying before your very eyes.
It had been over a decade since you and your Mother were saved by the Hunters. Close to a decade that you had been taken to become one.
The news came in the form of a letter. Yourself and your two sisters were slaying demons left and right, banishing them back into their barren realm. Your world seemed to shatter as you read the shaky handwriting, tears threatening to spill as you read it over and over again.
Now you were here at her side. Holding your lips to her forehead and feeling just how sick she had gotten.
She hadn’t died that night but that didn’t matter. You could tell that she would pass soon and it affected you everyday. You became angry with the world around you. Shouting abusively at your fellow Hunters and letting yourself be consumed with rage in what should have been your free time.
But the Honmoon was still strong despite your slowly increasing hatred of everything.
The veil that kept the Demons back was shimmering with unseen, tiny, golden spots. Your combined voices captivated your meager audience and brought them together. Every soul shining a vibrant blue.
Then your voice just dwindled into silence.
Gwi-Ma snarled into your mind that the Honmoon could NOT become Gold. You had to stop this. NOW. You would have your power, so STOP. THIS. SONG.
Your face became contorted with a rage that had the people of the city backing away. Your jaw becoming tight, cracks of deep purple appearing like slowly shattering glass. You summoned your blade and turned to your sisters. Those eyes were pooling with hate-filled determination. You were set on doing this. You would have revenge for what your brother did to you and your mother.
You attacked them before they could strike. Your skill with the blade had not gone away. They had been enhanced. Your swings were ruthless and your will was like iron.
You fought your sisters in your Demonic rage and nearly had them. You had them dead to rights, but you were not the only Generation of Hunters alive. The women that had saved you all those years ago took up their weapons against you…You were outnumbered five to one…
Your blade clattered on the stone as you were thrown onto your back. Your chest ached and your muscles were screaming. So close. GET UP. Get. UP. This is not over! You can do this, you WILL, you have the power to get this done!
But before you could wrap your claws around the hilt of your blade it was kicked away, clattering twice before disappearing. You snarled, rising up to let your claws rake against where you thought your attacker was. Then you were cut again, on your eye this time.
A foot landed squarely on your chest and you could see them looking down at you. Hatred, pity, disgust, confusion. It was a swirl of emotions within their eyes. You hacked out a splatter of blood and gritted your teeth. They could see it. The ocean of anger and loathing that changed you into this.
The oldest Hunter produced a real blade from her waist and you trembled with rage and squeezed your eyes shut. Your claws fell from her leg and you growled as that blade rose.
“Please! I beg you!” Frail and weak, but strong in her anguish. You both tried to reach for each other but she was kept away by two of the Hunters. Your remaining eye was forced open and you looked up to your Mother. You reached out for her again only to feel the cold bite of a blade pressing against your throat.
“No! Not my daughter! I beg you–” She collapsed into the arms of the Hunters, her face wet with tears. Her voice trembled as she clung uselessly to the fabric of your fellow Hunter.
“Don’t kill her…” She cried, “Please…Don’t take her away too…”
The frigid feeling of that blade went away and you could hear as the Hunter above you went to sheathe it. A shimmer of light, a movement practiced over decades, and a similar sword appeared in her hand.
She almost looked like she was hesitant. As if she regretted this ever happened. You could feel the pain in her voice as she proclaimed, “I banish you, Demon, to the realm of your creator.” Her voice was once nurturing with an untold amount of warmth and now it was wavering, pained, and cold like a river.
“MA!” You tried to wrench yourself towards your Mother, but your form became a plume of magenta smoke as the blade was plunged down through your spine.
Your eyes snapped open to the sight of a dark, barren field, you launched yourself up to your feet, and your head whirled around. They were gone. The Hunters were gone.
Your Mother is gone.
Hot anger fills your very bones and you roar. Your blade meets the dirt again and again as your anger controls your movements. You scream and you rage at the realm like the plants and the soil themselves had wronged you.
There comes around a gentle whisper of a Demon who rages against all of existence. A rumor of a Demon who snarls at the world itself.
________________________________________________
Short and sweet but that's the way that I roll. Maybe I'll release actual chapters? I don't know, I'm pretty obsessed with KPDH right now lol
Would you be up for writing a small one-shot, with Mira X Reader. Where reader comes home and hurts herself (tripping over a rock and hitting her head or something like that) on the way and when she arrives home (later than usual) Mira is all over her and patching her up?
If you don't want to write it that's completely fine too obvious ^^
Have a nice day/evening
DON’T LIE | mira x f! reader ( requested )
synposis. you get injured on the way home, and your gf— mira, doesn’t fail to notice.
warnings. just a oneshot, mentions of blood, reader gets injured, reader is a female, mira is still a hunter, reader isn’t. kind of short.
an. THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST ANONN, i hope i did ur request some justice 💔 also i literally love mira so much like. it’s not funny.
The front door creaked open. It was a quarter past 11, almost midnight. You slipped inside quietly, hoping to avoid Mira’s radar, but luck clearly wasn’t on your side. A familiar voice called out before you could even slide your shoes off.
“You’re late.” You froze mid-step. Of course she noticed. On any normal evening, you would swoon at her beauty, fall in love again as if it’s your first time ever meeting her.
But, her tone was sharp, yet calm and soothing at the same time. If that even made any sense—you took a breath, adjusted your cap, and tugged your sunglasses down a little further. Dumb idea, ik. It was literally midnight, who in their right mind would be wearing an oversized jacket, with a cap and sunglasses? well, you couldn’t think of any other disguise.
“Got held up,” you said not so casually, brushing imaginary dust off your jacket. “Some guy dropped his groceries and I helped out.” Lying. horribly so.
In truth, your head was pounding. you had tripped over a rock while on your way home through your usual shortcut. The cut above your eyebrow was still bleeding. you had cleaned it up slightly with napkins from your bag, but it wasn’t enough. You felt dizzy, shaky.
Mira stood in the hallway, just infront of you, arms folded across her chest. her eyes immediately narrowed at the sight of your..weird attire.
“It’s 11 pm. Why are you wearing those?”
“Fashion statement?” you joked, hoping a smile would buy you some time.
She didn’t laugh.
Instead, she stepped closer, voice dropping. “Take them off.”
“Mira, I—”
She didn’t raise her voice, didn’t say anything any further either. just gave you that look—the look that you’d come to know all too well
You sighed and removed the sunglasses.
The second her eyes landed on the dried blood near your temple, Mira’s expression changed. Her usual calm, composed demeanor broke like thin ice. She reached forward, fingers barely brushing your cheek.
“What the hell happened?”
“It’s nothing—”
“Don’t.”
She guided you to the couch, her hands far more gentle than her voice now. Her brows were furrowed, and her jaw clenched tight like she was holding back a storm of emotions inside, which— knowing her— she probably was. You sat down, reluctantly, while she went to grab the first aid kit from under the kitchen sink.
Mira had always been overprotective, of you, of her fellow band members. Mostly you though. It was sweet, honestly. It just makes you fall in love even more.
She returned moments later, kneeling in front of you as she cleaned the wound with a steady hand. You hissed slightly, but she didn’t look up.
“You should’ve called.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to worry you. It was just a stupid fall. I tripped on a rock.”
“Still, what if something worse happened?” she said softly, almost bitterly. “What if one day, you won’t come back home? To me?” You could swear you saw tears welling up in her eyes.
She put the bandage on, then finally looked up at you. Her eyes shimmered, the light catching just enough of her emotion to stir something in your chest.
“I don’t like not knowing when you’re hurt.”
“I didn’t want to make it a thing.”
“You are a thing,” she said, voice barely above a whisper. “You matter to me.”
You blushed. She cupped your face gently, thumb brushing just below your bandage. “I don’t care how small it is. If you’re hurt, I want to know. Don’t shut me out.”
“I thought I was bothering you,” you admitted. “I didn’t want to add stress to whatever’s going on with you lately. You come home exhausted. You disappear for hours and don’t say where—”
Mira stiffened. Just slightly. Then she looked down.
There was a moment of silence between you two. At some point, you start to worry. What if you overstepped? Maybe you shouldn’t have said all of that. You were about to take it back when Mira exhaled slowly.
She leaned forward and rested her forehead gently against yours, careful of the injury.
“You’re right. I’m keeping things from you. But not because I don’t trust you, but because I don’t want you dragged into what I do. One day I’ll tell you.. I promise.”
You didn’t answer—just rested your hand over hers. She was right. Someday, she’d tell you. But you won’t dare force her, because you trust her. You trust your Mira.
But for now, she stayed kneeling beside you, her hand cupping your face, her voice a bit shaky. “Promise me you’ll tell me when you get hurt next time?”
