unrepentant

HUGO DUVALL | THIRTY SIX ( 1000+ ) | DEMON ok yes i may be evil and morally corrupt but i’m also incredibly beautiful and i think that makes up for it honestly. — Affably Evil™ Lovable Rogue™ Always Chaotic Evil™ The Trickster™ Evil Feels Good™

[huvall]

wtfjcsie:

Blood pumping through her muscles, Josie was ready still to fight. Just because her heart had betrayed her and sent tears where they weren’t needed didn’t mean Josie wasn’t ready to rip apart their entire home if it meant that she proved her point. When he had yelled the first time, it had only fueled the adrenaline and anger pulsing inside her. To see him nearly crash into the table after that had been a sick sort of delight as she wondered if he often forgot about the her strength. He had been on the receiving end of it many times before, but Josie also knew that his ego and own abilities prevented much of the hurt she could shell out anyways. 

Stood now, jaw grit and fists bundled as she was mentally preparing herself to throw him across the room and destroy whatever expensive knickknacks he had stored in the shelf behind them, she tried her hardest to make sure her look pierced into him. Putting a hand up to her face and wiping her eyes before any tears escaped, it was in those seconds that he had spoke, and Josie found herself slightly confused. He was barely moving, more standing and thinking to himself deeply after having been assaulted and screamed at by her once more. Shouldn’t he be screaming back, pushing her, escalating it into it’s natural result? He had been ready to walk away moments ago. Eyebrows furrowing and eyes squinting, Josie tried to hold the toughness in her face as she stayed on the emotional ledge they’d been pushed to. It was only when he looked back at her in that second, near disgusted look in his face, that she thought she got it. It was coming, now.

And just as fast as she thought she had it, it was swept out from under her as he came forward and reached for her. When he touched her, her biceps clenched, unsure what was happening and more importantly, if this was an attack. Josie’s mind was just as cluttered, blinking rapidly and staring at him in utter disbelief. The tears swelled as she tried to process what was happening, with a few escaping down her cheeks without her permission. I’m sorry. Her mouth agape, her eyes searched his face when his hands grasped her delicately. He was apologizing, she realized finally, and understood then that she had actually won. Her tantrum had made sense, and actually put him where she wanted. In the act of winning, though, it seemed that joy too had been taken from her – it wasn’t about winning or losing at all. It was about them.

Jaw trembling, her eyes closed, head snuggling into his hands. Body relaxing underneath the tenderness and finally accepting it, her own hand went to rest on top of his own. “Hugo…” Opening her eyes, she smiled softly, apologetic and touched all at once. It was a look that would be foreign to everyone besides Hugo, the most sensitive part of her heart revealed. “I’m sorry.” she said finally, reaching in them and hugging him tightly. Her hands gripped onto his shoulders, head snuggling into the crook of his neck and nearly mumbling her words. “I can’t help it…I…” For a moment, she hesitated, wanting to stay in the warmth of his body before speaking again.

“…I love you.” Pulling back, her head tilted as she looked over him. Although they’d been over this, it still felt uneasy to say aloud, especially to a devil like himself. Besides this, it never necessarily felt right for Josie – hadn’t she, too, become an unloving monster when Catherine turned her? She was not so sure anymore, especially as the years passed. Looking to the floor then, but still steady in his arms, she spoke again. “Were you reading when I got here?” she asked a bit quietly.

The initial pull back from him was expected, but it only caused for Hugo's fingers to tighten around her upper arm, rooting her to the spot so that she couldn't pull away completely. Hell, she might have stabbed him in the gut at this point but Hugo figured he could take that than another week of the silent treatment. He was so tired. So emotionally drained from the acute vessels of his life he actually allowed his emotions to squander. He just needed this to settle, for now. He just needed for this one thing to work out.

A small breath of relief swept out from his lips when she apologized, not taking it so much as an apology itself, but a fact that Josie's wall was down and he had reached her before it was too late. He felt her curl in towards him, arms instinctively slipping around to encompass her, nose burying into her hair. At her words of not being able to help herself, his embrace tightened a little, as if a gesture to say that he didn't blame her. He knew how she was, or how she could be so to speak... It wasn't as if it was the first fight they'd ever had. "I know." He muttered into her hairline, lips brushing her cheek along the way.

"—And I'm on your side. Always." He said quietly back to her, perhaps not the same three words she was looking for, but to Hugo, they meant something similar if not the same. After all, it was true. No matter what stunt Catherine pulled, no matter who came between them, there was always a place for Josie in him. Watching as she pulled back, his hands remained on her sides, thumbs brushing against the material of her top. "Uh, yeah." He breathed through a laugh, glancing down as if totally having forgot what he'd been up to that evening. As doom and gloom as he might have seemed to some, Hugo was a very regular man in the hours he wasn't indulging in work or play. He liked his novels, he liked a glass of whiskey with a late night tv shows, he liked peace and quiet to drown himself in his own thoughts. "It's... I mean, I've read it about a hundred times," He shook his head, then rolled his eyes. "Well. Eighty-three, but who's counting?" He grinned, looking at Josie for a good moment then, soaking up her softened features before glancing behind him. "You hungry?" He asked then, looking back at her and gesturing over his shoulder. "I got a buddy to stock me up, there's a whole tray of AB Negative in there somewhere. I told him to ditch the O stuff."

[huvall]

wtfjcsie:

At the way he began to yell back to her, Josie flinched, the confidence being briefly struck as her gripped on her arms slipped slightly. She had not expected that, or not at least, after the conversation they’d had only some time ago. Her jaw hung open, but she recovered quickly, seeing now that Hugo was ready for a real fight. Breathing in so much that her chest noticeably rose, her eye contact never broke with his own. However, just as quickly as she thought he might actually say something of substance about his ex, it was quickly replaced by an insult on her.

If anyone had a hard time accessing their emotions in an appropriate way, it was Josie, which was unfortunate given how much she really cared for Hugo. Her love for Hugo couldn’t be understated now. Of course, it had been there for years, and she had as much care for him as a wife did to a husband, which was also why their fights became just as heated and pointless at times. Josie wasn’t unreasonable – if he needed to have some flings on the side to satisfy himself when she wasn’t around or for things she couldn’t physically give him (which, she didn’t know what that would be, but she didn’t judge), then that was fine. What wasn’t fine was letting serious ex-girlfriends or actual girlfriends into his life. It was then that she drew the line, because knowing Hugo, his sometimes impulsive nature took over when he became infatuated with something. If that something was another woman, Josie refused to be sidelined for some blonde demon.

“Well too fucking bad!” she then screamed back at him, he rage and insult she felt unleashing on him. “Because it’s happening now whether or you like it or not, asshole!” Josie’s arms began to outstretch as she started on her next rant, although this time, the surface level annoyance and anger was replaced with real hurt, a deep hurt that she’d been holding since she’d met Freya. “Do you know how much I have done for you? How much shit I have put up with just to be with you, and now, here you come, acting like I don’t deserve an explanation for her?! Acting like I’m some little kid you can just ignore! I’m your fucking girlfriend, Hugo, and you barely acknowledge it! We’ve been together on and off for nearly 50 years! We almost got fucking married and you have the audacity to act like I’m out of line about this?!” It was then that Josie’s hand whipped hard into his cheek, slapping him in the face with all her strength and nearly sending him into the floor. “You want to know what I’m tired of? I’m tired of your nonsensical, noncommittal, avoidance of our relationship and my feelings! Of course I’m going to be jealous when your bitch ex-girlfriend who you were with for one hundred years comes marching into town!”

However, the part of Josie that was always vulnerable during their fights came out, tears tugging at the edge of her eyes, but anger still gritting through her words. No, she would not let crying take over this conversation. “And you know what, it sure feels like she’s right when you can’t even tell me that you don’t actually want her anymore, or that she’s even wrong about what she said. If you’re sleeping with her, then fucking own up to it, because I’m not going to back down from this.”

Although he had begun to walk away from her, there didn't seem to be any real intention of leaving as the second Josie began to yell, Hugo stopped and looked back at her. Do you know how much I have done for you? The statement hung in the air between them, causing Hugo to stare at her and then draw his gaze somewhere to the wall, tongue touching his lips in irritation. Yes. He knew better than anyone the kinds of things Josie had sacrificed and put herself through for him. Likewise, he'd done some unsavory and unexplainable things himself for her, it was almost like currency to them now.

"What do you want me to say?!" He belted suddenly, waving out an arm angrily as she accused him of acting like their relationship was nothing. He worked like a pendulum, he always had and in a way, he supposed it was the symptoms of immortality. Some centuries he cared a lot for things, and some, he simply gave up trying. Although crossing over into a new era by almost twenty years now, Hugo could feel himself changing as time went on. He felt his numbness start to fade, his frustrations with his current lifestyle bubbling up to boiling point, the need for a change wafting around him.

When Hugo opened his mouth to reply again, his own tantrum was cut short by the blinding smack of a dark hand to his cheek. It was fast, so quick that he couldn't have even avoided it with demonic speed. The strength of her vampiric abilities made his knees buckle after a short stumble, though Hugo was quick to pull himself up by the side of the dining table, hand going to his face to check if her talons had drawn blood. No red tainted his fingers, but that didn't mean it hadn't hurt.

Watching her now as Josie shattered apart, letting all of her feelings come flooding forth, Hugo did actually feel a stir in his gut that he knew was supposed to be guilt. She was right, noncommittal was possibly the most accurate description of him. With work, his feelings didn't matter, he couldn't have them, they only got in the way of his paychecks and by extension, his own safety. And by how many times he'd had to start over in a new part of the world, meet new people, fallen for new women... it was almost like memorizing a choreography. He couldn't commit to things. Not when they didn't last, not when he'd just have to go through the same pain of losing it over and over again. Because even immortal relationships didn't last forever.

"Josie...." He said softly, meaning for it to come out in a stronger tone but unable to take it back now. Regaining his full height again, Hugo looked at her in disdain. This could have all been avoided if he'd just told her the truth, that he didn't have feelings for Freya, and that he most definitely wasn't sleeping with her. But then, Hugo didn't tend to do anything the easy way, especially when it was demanded of him.

Coming forward slowly, he tentatively reached out for her. Grabbing her just above the elbow, he pulled her closer and then placed his other hand on her arm. “I’m sorry.” He surrendered finally, attempting to turn the moment intimate, even though his face still stung where she’d hit him. Raising his hands to her face, he tried to mend the bridge of communication they were currently in the process of burning to the ground. “I don’t mean to dismiss your feelings it’s just... it’s been a long week.” He told her quietly, hands trembling slightly from the adrenaline of their fight. “Feels like every week’s a long week at this point,” He corrected then, trying to make eye contact with her, trying to pull them both back from the edge of destroying each other. “I don’t want her.” He said finally. “And I’m definitely not sleeping with her.”

[huvall]

wtfjcsie:

As much as Josie wanted to believe Hugo (and she always wanted to – he was akin to a North Star in her life most days), she couldn’t. Josie had been there, had seen with her own two eyes just what Freya was. The insults, however impersonal she wanted to brush them off as, had hit to her very core. Maybe he was right, but on the other hand, she noticed something that perhaps he hadn’t in what he was saying: he didn’t deny any of it.

He didn’t deny any of it. 

Her anger only subsided for a second as she chugged the drink she had made herself, whiskey neat without any blood even, then smashing it into the glass of the bar and hearing it crack with the force. Josie’s finger pointed towards him, “Bullshit! You think I’m a fucking idiot?!” she yelled to him, coming closer then. “You didn’t deny one fucking thing I told you she said – not one. She may be a demon, and I have fucked enough of your kind to know what kind of games you play, but she certainly was a very perceptive type of asshole. Very knowledgable about us for someone you claim to have been with just too long ago for me to even care about.” her tone mocked his own, head wagging side to side as she repeated him. Her arms crossed over her chest then, head tilting as she finally was to deliver the final blow to the conversation. Standing there, now only a foot or so away from him, she shrugged, “How about you try to deny this: that you still want her. Or even that you’ve made contact with her. If you can do that, I’ll apologize.” 

The muscles in his face flexed, a severe eye roll coming on like an uncontrollable sneeze but Hugo caught it in time and instead, briefly stared at the wall in anguish. Dealing with Josie could be a lot like dealing with a child. Sometimes, when they felt an emotional rollercoaster come on, they cried. Or, alternatively, they just threw tantrums like this. By now, Hugo had almost become immune to them, but that didn't mean he could always ignore them. He had a temper switch too, anyone who knew him on a personal level like Josie did, knew that but it was rare he let himself turn explosive like her. Rare... but not impossible.

At her ultimatum, Hugo felt his blood boil. Though the root of his frustration wasn’t entirely her fault, it didn’t simply come down to the fact that Josie was having another one of her tirades, it was mostly due to the fact that as each day went by now, Hugo felt less and less in control of his own life. With everything going on in the election mess with Catherine, his job teetering along the lines of practically redundant, Freya messing with the few people he truly cared for in his life and now this, Josie, never satisfied... Hugo felt more at odds now than he had in years. With everything. Particularly at himself, for allowing himself to get here and in this mess to begin with.

“Oh, then you’ll apologize? Those are your conditions, are they?” He barked back, eyes squinting as a huff of annoyance left him. “Freya’s an old friend. Whether you like it or not, she’s history. She’s my history. I don’t—” He cut himself off then with another irritated sigh, about to have given Josie what she wanted before he realized he was sick to death of applying himself to the rules. Other people’s rules that quite frankly, were getting him nowhere. “No, you know what? I don’t feel like doing this... I’m tired. And your perpetual, unavoidable, absolutely narcissistic jealousy issues are not my goddamn problem.”

[huvall]

elenaridley:

      Like reading static —that could have been enough of a hint on its own, and if he focused enough on that, perhaps he’d get it: she wasn’t really there. Not like other species were, at least. When he said he’d raise the bargain, her brows shot up, wondering if he already knew more than he was letting on, but she let out a breathy laugh through her nose and smiled. It’s not like this deal could do her much damage, anyway. It would all be in good fun. 

      “I assume there’ll be gloating involved no matter who wins. But let’s call it a deal.” 

      Hand extended, she waited for him to shake and make it official. Though if her gut had steered her in the right direction and he WAS a demon, that might not make much of a difference, either way. 

"Absolutely,” He gave an easy set of nods when she predicted gloating, whether he just seemed to give that air about himself or whether she was just guessing, it was a correct statement either way. Hugo may not have been drastic with his ego measures, but they were there. Smirking at her as the word formed on her lips, his eyes traced their curves in the way a predator might first assess it’s prey from a distance. “It’s a deal.” He echoed the statement; a demon’s sweetest reward.

Taking a half-step forward, Hugo looked her over once more, eyes slimming down carefully. There was no stench of blood or ego complex to note, so he didn’t want his first guess to be a vampire. His hunch read ghost or a witch with very finely attuned magical attributes, talents that gave him the heavy weight of something existential. The strange vibes he got from her reminded him of the fear of endlessness, the kind of gut nerves one might get staring down a crevasse that never ended or through the deep oceanic blue with not a single creature in sight. It was as daunting as it was depressing, and for that, necromancy could have been on the table. He’d met a shaman with the same kinetic depth in the Philippines once... so alas, his guess would have to be just that. A guess.

“So. Forgive the candor — but I’m reading a whole lot of darkness on your profile,” He informed her quietly, secretively even, as if anyone on the street may be listening in and they had to hide their conversation. Really though, he was just trying to keep the moment fun and intimate. She didn’t seem completely thrown off by him, even by his flammable display. So clearly, demons didn’t frighten her. “That leads me to think you’ve got a little unfinished business going on inside that head of yours.”

[huvall]

harpwoods:

Harper rolled her eyes once more as he smirked, finding no amusement in it. She quickly crossed her arms, attempting to find the words to truly explain how she had started to feel about the demon. “Even if I’m buried seven layers under and burning in hell, at least I won’t have to see your fucking face anymore,” she stated, then clenching her jaw before physically spitting on the ground. Harper didn’t bother to look down at the ground to see if there was blood mixed in with her spit, but she could taste it in her mouth. Part of her wanted to deck Hugo across the face, but the other part of her just wanted to leave and attempt to recover from the pains that ached her body. On a rare condition, Harper took the safer route. “We’re done for the fucking day.”

He mocked a wounded scoff, as if he was offended by the fact she’d rather sit in Hell than hang out with him. Naturally, it wasn’t a major concern of Hugo’s, not was he really bothered by whatever stunt this was. It was amusing, if anything, to see her try to get a grip. To see her go up against a demon. These Mystery Inc. kids really were nut jobs.

“Oh sure, we’ll call it. Not like you were doing any real damage anyway,” He responded easily, and although his tone was light, it was laced with insults. “Best you do that thing humans do, uh... what do you call it... sleep it off? Maybe one of these days you might actually leave a mark."

[huvall]

wtfjcsie:

Josie, honestly though, didn’t care too much that he was home. She assumed he wasn’t, and that would have been the easier option, but if it was to come crashing down now, then so be it.

She wasn’t even sure if it’d hit him, but she did hear the ‘whoosh’ that often accompanied him teleporting, much to her display. Some days, teleportation was a godsend, other days she absolutely loathed the ability to let Hugo avoid his problems or take over a situation. Deciding she was going to ignore him, she gave her attention to the movie. She hoped he’d leave her alone then, taking a cigarette out of the metal tin next to her, lighting it and huffing out the puffs of smoke just as he appeared in front of her. Her gaze only grew more annoyed, cigarette dangling from her lips as she stared up at him. Letting out a low growl, she got up from the couch and walked towards him. 

“Cute how you think it’s just your house after all these years.” Josie pushed a finger into his chest at the word, letting another puff of smoke hit his face as she blew it out. Taking the cigarette from her lips and into her hand. She began to pace around the space, “I would have thought your whore Freya would have informed you by now.” Josie got to the minibar once again and began making another drink as she continued. “Maybe I haven’t met the minimum century together with you to qualify this as a shared space! Or, hm, was it that I, “will never alone satisfy you”?” she threw ice cubes in the glass, haphazardly poured the whiskey, all while imitating Freya’s accent as she quoted the other woman. Josie turned back to him then, “Perhaps it’s that you apparently didn’t marry me because of how painful I was! It was great to know you have a type though – bitchy.” putting out the cigarette on the glass of the bar.

She wasn’t like him at all in an argument and strangely, sometimes, that still surprised Hugo. While he was normally the first to deny and avoid, Josie was the type to tackle something head-on or not at all. There was no teetering along an edge for her, no masochistic lingering or pussyfooting, all things of which Hugo was borderline a professional at when it came to grief and trauma. So when she stood up and began to approach, Hugo habitually felt a sense of regret bubble up inside him. He’d wanted to know the problem? Well now he was going to find out tenfold, and he only had himself to blame, irritably enough.

When she corrected him or attempted to at least, Hugo squinted at her unsurely. He didn’t understand what that comment was supposed to mean, given that nobody else's name was exactly on the condo which they stood in, but he suspected he was going to find out that any minute now too. When she name-dropped Freya, however, Hugo’s entire body softened a little in defeat. Ah... yes... now it made sense.

“Josie —” He tried to cut off the tirade he knew was coming, but that was about as useful as trying to catch smoke between his fingers. Despite how he tried, she barreled on regardless, no boundary stopping her. “Freya and I — that was a long time ago. So long you shouldn’t even waste your breath worrying about it,” He assured her. “And as for whatever she said to you, you have to remember, she’s a demon. Bitchy hardly relates... try conniving... complex even. Whatever she said to you, I can assure you it didn’t come from anywhere personal, it’s our ritualistic instinct. She likely just wanted to make you feel uneasy to see if she could and to be honest, Jose, it sounds like you gave in like a dog to a bone.” He told her, not angry anymore. “The only way we know how get off as a species is by recognizing we can get to people. You give us that power and you’ve sold yourself without us even having to give you the pen to sign. So whatever Freya said — I’ll bet anything it’s only what she wants you to think. So don’t give her the satisfaction of actually thinking it.””

[huvall]

mxnday-blues:

“Personally, I’m more into arsenic, but we all have our poisons,” she said, chuckling only slightly, so quiet it was barely audible, much more akin to a scoff. Her eyes bore into him before finally deciding that she probably did not know him, for one, and for two: he wasn’t so horrible. At least he seemed to match her own mood, and when Monday was miserable, she expected just about everyone else to be in the same boat. The phrase misery loves company was invented for her. 

Between the disaster that her night was on the anniversary of Friday’s death, and the fact that it felt like a thousand wounds had been reopened inside her chest, she was utterly uninterested in any conversational partners that had optimism to offer. Besides, Monday loved to pry. “Why are you interested in drinking yourself to death?” 

She was staring at him and Hugo was doing his best to ignore it, wishing his peripherals were hazier than they really were. She had the kind of eyes that could haunt a person, not so much because of whatever was in them, but by the way she was using them. Fearless. She wasn’t concerned with him knowing she was looking, he could tell as much by the way she kept doing it. Why he felt the need to stare at his glass instead was unexplainable. Then again, he wasn’t much in the mood to flirt either. Some might have called this feeling like a kicked puppy, his tail tangled between his legs but it was more acidic than that. Worse, even. He knew he deserved to be here, in this mindset, so he allowed it to consume him rather than deflect from it. It’d go away sooner or later. It always did.

“Death would be more like sweet relief and there're certain facets of my life that would rather me suffer than get off that easy,” He replied honestly, yet, without explaining much at all. “You? Arsenic’s pretty heavy stuff... So what, did you kill someone?”

[huvall]

grinlikecheshire:

Verina was beautiful, and though Charlie had noticed it a thousand times by now, he was still somehow unable to move past it, wondering whether a woman like that had any business striking up a conversation with someone like him. This was his constant struggle, for Gabriele had been the most beautiful woman in town, and even still Verina did not surpass her. Where Gabriele was soft, Verina was contoured. It was almost enough to give him pause, thoughts that mused over whether or not she was just as hard-edged on the inside. Charlie was a suspicious mind at best, and a heavily paranoid one at worse. Still, like always, he succeeded in quieting those thoughts, in labeling them an unfair judgment that was rooted in irrationality. In any case, the fact remained: her smile could easily destroy kingdoms. 

He had been squinting at her, he knew, but his face dropped as she revealed she still wore the pain of that night like a chip on her shoulder. He felt doubly guilty. First, for putting her through that, and second, for briefly assuming she was anything other than genuine. How could he let himself forget that he was the one on trial here, and not her? He had let his growing mistrust of the citizens in West Hollow, his constant disenchantment and disappointment, get the better of him. He was at a loss for words, and his mouth stupidly gaped open as he tried to come up with anything that resembled comfort. He finished his drink, hoping for some liquid courage, before remembering he was a vampire and it would take a good, long while for the alcohol to set in. He would have to do this on his own. 

“Verina,” he began, deciding honesty was the best policy, “it wasn’t you. My history with that man is…really complicated. Whoever it was who set us at the same table didn’t know what they were doing. I’ve been feeling so guilty about that night since it happened, and I’m genuinely so sorry it was you who got caught in the crosshairs,” he said with a heavy sigh. It would be forever embarrassing to talk about Augustus, it seemed, “I…I don’t know how one would make up for that. Maybe there is no making up for it…it’s me who doesn’t deserve your time, not after how I treated you,” 

As her own name wafted in her direction, in a tone that almost made her visibly smirk, Verina knew she’d snagged him; hook, line and sinker. Feeling a shred of pride run through her, she wanted to then take a moment and embellish the fact she hadn’t even used any mermaid abilities to get what she wanted. After all, nothing beat a little good old-fashioned manipulation. That was Verina’s policy.

Training her expression to look something akin to hopeless, she finally darted dark eyes in Charlie’s direction, as if she didn’t believe him. Not with hostility, however, but as if she couldn’t possibly believe it wasn’t something to do with her. 

Taking a moment to let his words sink in, or at least pretending to, Verina looked down at her nails that still shimmered gold from the dinner. It was her color after all, and she liked to watch them sparkle in the lights. “I can only wish I had something like that with somebody,” She sighed dearly, clearly insinuating his relationship with Augustus. “Every man worth and not worth a dime has left me,” She slapped on a false, empty smile, this time at least telling the truth. Perhaps she didn’t know loyalty because she’d never earned it from anybody. No one except Marin, it seemed and their relationship was nothing like what she was pining for. “So forgive me if I don’t believe it’s all your fault that you were immediately diverted.”

[huvall]

wtfjcsie:

Maybe because it felt lonely at her own stone fortress that she frequented Hugo’s more than her own. She had considered getting a cat a few times, but every time she seemed to think the idea was solid, she’d realize how little time she actually spent there. A cat would die within a week as she’d forget to feed it, not to mention get lonely. Josie could have just as easily crawled into a bed at Adalene’s mansion as she was splayed on Hugo’s couch right now, but then that would have required entertaining Adalene more than she already had the energy for at Lestat that night. Hugo’s was always so comfortable; so familiar. How could she resist, even if she was mad at him?

Josie had been so focused on the television, flipping past some rerun of some 90′s program when he had walked in. She was surprised he was up this late considering in an hour or so, it’d be dawn and her bedtime, glancing over at him with wide eyes before narrowing them back to the screen. Dashing down the rest of the blood and whiskey in her glass, she then threw it at the wall next to his head, not even bother to look at him to watch. He would either get the hint or not. “No.” she spat, deciding finally on some Oscar movie about Jackie Kennedy she’d never heard of.

By the look on her face, she was surprised to see him, an ironic observation given that it was his own home. Perhaps she’s swept the place once, found no trace of him and assumed he’d been out of town. It wasn’t unusual in his line of work, though she of all people should have also known how unpredictable his schedule was. Approaching still, he got the immediate feeling that she was unhappy with him. Josie’s hostility was like a second language to Hugo now, he recognized it the moment she looked at him. 

Though he wasn’t the only one unpredictable, and when the glass went flying, Hugo only had a second to teleport out of the way. He could have side-stepped, but instinct had taken over. Reappearing, he glared at the bloody spot on the wall and shattered glass on the ground, nerves tested.

“You mind telling me what that’s about?” He said, tone turning stiff now, impatient. It had been a long night, he couldn’t say this is what he felt like ending it with. As the TV kept going, Hugo found his irritation only grew. So then, he teleported in front of it, grabbed the remote and turned it off. Then, he threw it carelessly onto the coffee table and gave her a sinister look. “You don’t come into my house just to use and break my shit, Josie. So what is it? Huh?”

[huvall]

athenaofthesea:

She’d been okay to believe he was French in some fashion. But the moment Hugo said he was born in Albenga, she knew from the look in his face it was most definitely the truth. Mostly because he didn’t look happy about it. Her interest had been piqued and questions swam in her mind. But looking at him now, she felt it would be a bad idea to try and ask them. Whatever happened there, he clearly didn’t seem ready to share. After all, he’d been a demon born in the heart of the Roman Catholic church and the thought of those consequences made her anxious. It had only been later when Athena spent time befriending merfolk citizens in the kingdom and asking questions that she learned some demons were not fallen angels, they were simply born the way they were. It made her remember Hugo’s reaction to her assumption rather long ago and made her realize oh how very wrong she’d been. His nature could have been no fault of his own.

Athena started to get up and then offered her hand, still smiling down at him. A breathe escaped her lips, shaky like the remnants of a laugh. “Stop frowning like that. It’s your home country, but if you don’t like it we won’t go. It doesn’t matter.” As much as she’d thought of going to Italy one day, it could wait. For now, she was content letting him surprise her. “I’m very happy going anywhere with you.” It was probably unnoticeable but she could feel the muscles in her smile weakening slightly at the last two words. She hadn’t meant for those to come out. They felt too personal. A sigh escaped her lips. “All I ask is you knock next time you teleport over, like you did the first time…” And not like the frightening second time, but she didn’t say that. “And preferably not at 1am.” She grinned softly. Because despite the fear of getting him into trouble, she truly was excited. And it wasn’t like she wasn’t going to do anything about the possibility of his punishment. Athena suspected she wasn’t going to be able to fall asleep that night thinking about it… or about any of this.

There was a patient presence inside Athena that Hugo was lucky to have come to know, as he could count a lot of times he'd given a part of himself away to someone only to have them pull it apart in order to try and decipher it themselves. But with her, it was different. Or it felt different anyway. It felt as if no matter what he gave away about himself at this point and no matter how he worried she was going to react to it, there was always some positive string of events that would follow. It made him think about a great many people he'd met over his long existence here on Earth. It made him think of the many women, and few men even he'd come to befriend, who made living feel like a gift. It was rare to make a demon feel that way about anything though and so in the grand scheme of it all, it was no surprise at all for the way he'd taken to Athena. Especially when he'd tried to do anything but get attached to her. Things never were as simple as that when they mattered.

little and the corner of his mouth quirked upwards. A cloud of black smoke came out of nowhere like a raincloud above his head, suddenly turning dense and blanketing him before he was swiftly standing next to her. It was almost symbolic, like every moment Athena chose the human way about something, Hugo had to remind her that he was anything but. His expression lacked the hard taciturn layer it had been using as a defense moments before now as she said she'd be happy going anywhere with him. "Knocking, I can make it a habit..." He wagered, "But if you're only willing to stick to your own timezone that severely limits our options, Ariel." It felt comfortable to revert to the nicknames he'd initially picked out for Athena, knowing they were in no way original but still feeling a safe buffer between them whenever he used them. "So keep that mind of yours wide open," He said then as he decided to act on a shred of boldness, reaching out to thread a strand of hair away from her eyes ( though it barely needed relocating ) and pressing his fingertip briefly to her temple afterward. "There's a lot more of the world left that you've got to see."

[huvall]

freyawhitmore:

EVER THE COCKY SON OF A BITCH. she loved that about him. freya let herself be consumed with giggles, even as she sighed and shook her head. it was clear to her that her dear old friend didn’t like the fact she’d gone and opened doors he liked to keep shut. shut and locked. and barricaded. but those were the challenges freya loved best and no matter how much her counterparts did not enjoy her taking on those challenges, that was what she was best at. exposing vulnerabilities. but at least with hugo, she did not use them against him. at least not in a way that would truly harm him. he knew the extent to which she could use information against another. and if she’d wanted to with hugo, she would have done it eons ago.

❛ i’m always doing the former, hugo, you know me ! the latter with carreau, well ! he is more grotesque than most men ive had the misfortune to meet… so it will be fun to see what dirty little secrets i can uncover. ❜ the blonde took a delicate sip of her drink. ❛ of course that is between you and i. ❜ she smiled. there was no need with threats when it came to her old friend. he knew exactly what she was capable of. ❛ and i hear you are working for a vampire as well ? must be nice. ❜ she was slightly sarcastic. freya never really enjoyed vampire company. ❛ i haven’t had the pleasure to meet her yet… but i hear catherine has this little town wrapped around her pinky finger. ❜

Her laughter still hit a pitch that gave Hugo goosebumps, never quite sure whether to revel in it or consider the fact that something worse was about to happen. A natural demon quality, he’d found over the years, and something that always tended to excite him from women like Freya. Watching her with all her nonchalance made him, for the first time that evening, reminisce being with her. Though it had been some time and he was often the one to grossly overthink things, he couldn’t say he didn’t miss the woman. Rarely enjoying the company of others like him, she was different. She always had been different. She’d had a way of making him feel a part of something much bigger than themselves and with her wicked ways, it had taken him unnaturally longer to get bored of their rituals than usual. He liked being on her side, the winning side of things. And realistically, he still couldn’t fully explain it. Not back then and especially not now. It was just a feeling that he got being in Freya’s presence, a masochistic feeling of being seen through and still enjoying it. There was hardly a person alive today that had that ability and perhaps it was the fact Freya had never seemed to exploit it that provided him with the safety he felt around her. It was, as a lot of things were when it came to women and him, addictive.

Unless of course, she was planning to tangle herself in his affairs with Josie and Athena, simply for the sake of making the situation worse for her entertainment. Again, for the first time since the last time he’d seen her, he’d felt weary of her. Though it didn’t provide her with any great reward ( at least from where he was standing ) he wouldn’t have put it past a demon like Freya to do anything simply just because she could. All demons had a part of them that reacted like nitrate to a flame when it came to pointless chaos.

She always handled herself with grace and despite how well Hugo had adapted himself to modern times, he couldn’t say it wasn’t a kick to the old flame hearing Freya tackle his jabs with integrity. Smirking to himself when she called Carreau grotesque, he knew just what she was talking about, able to imagine a short list of things he probably had wanted her to do for a lackluster reward that potentially may never have even arrived in the end. “Cross my heart, hope to burn in Hell.” He touched his chest then with a lazy gesture, then held up his hands in mock surrender. It interested him greatly that she was entwining herself in Carreau’s affairs like some tapeworm, intentions seemingly unnoticed, yet embedding herself trickily like a parasite nonetheless. He could use her eyes on the inside, that was for sure, at least for his own benefit. “Coiled in serrated wire, more like. Once you immerse yourself in her affairs there’s little ways of getting out of it.” He informed then, finally coming forward to get himself something to eat. Snatching some leftover Chinese from the fridge, he began unloading it. “Given that this is... just between you and I,” He used her words, casually glancing back at Freya. “I’ll warn you now against putting yourself in her line of sight. I recommend pursuing one town tyrant at a time. Besides,” He smirked, looking at her again. “From where we’re both stood, there’s some advantage, should we keep our line of communication clear.” He shrugged one shoulder, “You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours. Given you don’t go intentionally intimidating my interests again.”

[huvall]

litwtfjcsie:

Freya. Even the single syllable of her name caused Josie’s skin to feel as if it was boiling. After the debacle with the demon who had called herself Hugo’s ex, Josie had found herself on the defensive yet again, barely able to look at Hugo while the sting of Freya’s words bounced in her brain. Nothing special. A century. You alone can’t satisfy him completely. Maybe, Josie could have ignored it, were it not for how accurate it all seemed, much less coming from a woman who had known Hugo for so long and clearly had an intimate relationship with him. Her encounters with him had turned into drunken or high sex before whisking back away when morning came, knowing that the inevitable fight they’d have over Freya would ruin any good will either of them had built up after their last mess from the dinner at Vermillion.

Arriving back in Hugo’s home after a tiring night at Lestat, Josie didn’t hear the tell tale signs of him being home. His home was big enough that she could slip in and out, and without him having her super hearing, usually he didn’t notice. Kicking her heels off and making herself a drink, Josie slipped onto a nearby couch. Clicking on the television, she sipped her drink, not bothering to take off the red number she’d worn that night, but did throw the white fur coat onto the floor in front of her as she tried to relax.

It had been a long night, though it usually often was whenever a job for Catherine was involved. Whether he was suspiciously right or just paranoid, he had the inkling that whatever case she threw him lately was in a way, a test. Should he fail, she’d only be proven how incompetent he really was. So naturally, like the stubborn natured man he was, he refused to fail. He liked a challenge.

Grouchy and floating somewhere between too restless to go to sleep and too exhausted to do anything really productive, Hugo made his way out of his room where he’d been neck deep in a Mercè Rodoreda novel for the better part of an hour. Only picking up on the low crackle of noise once he entered the hallway though — the sound of a TV, he suspected — confusion crossed Hugo’s expression. Wandering out into the open-plan living, dining, and kitchen area though, he found the target of the noise almost immediately adorned in red and looking like she belonged there.

There was rarely a time when Hugo didn’t like Josie being in his home, and it only ever came down to the fact he was mad at her if he did mind. Even then though, he was the one with the ability to go anywhere in the world to escape having to deal with anything. He had homes all over the globe he could go to get away. So it was rare he ever threw her out of this one, even if he believed she was the one in the wrong.

“Anything good on?” He asked habitually, meandering towards the living room. 

[huvall]

🍸 + "Should I be worried that Catherine is about to tear you and Josie a new asshole?"

“Worried? I didn’t know that was an emotion your kind dealt with…” He mumbled, as if genuinely surprised by the question, taking a break from his drink to consider it. “Anyway, I don’t think so. Believe me, if she wanted our limbs sprinkled across the the Northern Hemisphere she would have organized it by now. Catherine’s not exactly a time waster.”

[she-wolvess]

You don’t have to say it. But I do care about you.

[huvall]

athenaofthesea:

Despite the clarification, she knew she was gone and there would be no coming back from that feeling of warmth and tingling spreading inside while simultaneously making her feel like she might start cold sweating. Athena just stared at Hugo carefully as he spoke, hoping not to appear as afraid as she suddenly was. It was fear but it was the kind of fear someone like her would get at the height of a rollercoaster. Exciting and addictive. She’d royally fucked herself up. Again, despite promising herself she’d be more careful with her feelings in this new, free life. And then she also thought of Nate and what happened on their last meeting. She was fucking up really badly with herself and people in all directions and she just couldn’t stop herself. Unfortunately, in moments like these when she looked into the blue eyes in front of her, she really didn’t want to. 

“… Then you can pick me up anytime in the afternoon tomorrow.” She decided, thankful her voice was normal sounding despite being a bit quiet. Athena started to focus her thoughts more on what she’d been pondering before her world had come crashing down on her a second ago. She still wasn’t going to allow Catherine to use her as a punishment excuse, that hadn’t changed. It was just a matter of picking the course she wanted to take to help prevent that. Hugo obviously would not want her getting involved any further, but he didn’t need to know. Apparently the idea of others going out of their way to look after him was ludicrous. Fair enough. It still didn’t change her stubborn or protective nature and the fact she didn’t want anyone else hurt because of her. “Or wait until next weekend… Whenever it’s safer. I trust you.” She didn’t smile, but her expression had softened considerably.

Although he was watching her carefully and closely, Hugo tried his best to make it look casual and effortless, as if he wasn't hanging out to hear her cut the cord of friendship they'd made. He knew that look on her face... she was digging. He'd met women before that wore it like a badge if honor, hell, he'd watched it crosses the faces of the many young Mystery Kids and he'd seen it in the way Carina had simply frowned at him, smiling, and choosing not to believe every cynical thing he'd ever said about himself. In a way, Athena reminded him of her. That same sweet determination to have no one pick her opinion for her, the same pensive look on her face as he spoke as if she was filtering through the truth and the lies. It was disarming and frankly, Hugo hoped she never got as close as she had. It wasn't the same as having Josie know the depth of his darkness, he didn't trust Athena with that part of him.

When she gave him a time, however, Hugo felt his entire self relax. He felt the walls lower and the fire in his veins ignite in excitement. He had plans. Whether Athena would approve of them the same way as she did Paris, he couldn't know and that was half the fun. Letting a smirk waft back over his expression, Hugo looked at her smugly. "A demon's favourite three words," He chuckled then, tilting his head back to look at the sky as well. There may have been some irony in the way the two sat next to each other, a short and careful distant apart though their minds collided with the same vigor their lips had after he'd teleported her to the forest. But that was the sheer reason that he simply could just not leave her alone. Rare as it was to find someone he could talk to and be himself with, he was still learning with Athena, he would accept that. But so far, despite everything he'd allowed her to know, she hadn't hightailed it out of there just yet. Feeling the comfort of that, he snuck a look over at her for a moment, feeling a strange sense of guilt and also appreciation. It was a demons greatest lament that they seemed to find it hard to be totally honest with anybody, even others of their kind sometimes, yet Athena had stuck by him regardless. He owed her for that in ways he wasn't sure he could provide. But regardless, he tried. "Maybe one day I'll take you to Albenga. That'd be something." He pitched then quietly into the night, wistfully, and not entirely truthfully.

[huvall]

grinlikecheshire:

There was something regal about the way in which Verina not only spoke, but carried herself. Not that Charlie had ever been in the presence of royalty before to have anything to base that assumption off of, but he found himself thinking that if anyone came close, it was her. It made him uncharacteristically nervous, paired with the way he had royally floundered during their first meeting, it was a recipe for a bad case of anxiety. It wasn’t often that Charlie met someone who wasn’t fond of him, simply because he was such a pleasing person. It unsettled him deeply that Verina was so unimpressed with him, even more so that it was for good reason. 

“Well, wasteful banter is the currency in which I operate,” he said, picking up two straws, tempted to stick them in his mouth as if they were walrus teeth, but refraining and putting them back in their place at the last second. He took the drink from her happily, looking forward to having some semblance of courage in front of her. At the very least: some confidence. “Alright,” he began, taking another sip, “how can I convince you of my sincerity? Shall I have my people contact yours, send you a list of references? My resume is extensive, you should know,” he joked. 

Her smile was automatic at his first reply, a gesture she’d practiced in the mirror at first by a way of mastering it for use, and then eventually, simply out of boredom. Verina couldn’t count the times she’d pulled at her cheeks and pressed her eyebrows in different directions, pushing her expressions to the limit in wonder and bemusement. Mostly, because she had many hours to spend at home with her own company, and also because she enjoyed looking at herself. She was nothing if not full of her own vanity. “Excellent,” She replied, though it didn’t exactly sound genuine. Allowing her expression to drop from her face a little as he began to mouth the rim of his cocktail, Verina silently wondered how long it would take to get Charlie on a plateau of drunken oblivion. It wasn’t so much that she wanted to take advantage of him, but where she could force a hand to serve her, Verina was severely interested. Conniving at best, though she had an easily docile front, she had come to learn to use this. People thinking she was slow had become her most utilised tool, after all. 

Verina wondered what he knew about Augustus that perhaps neither her nor Marin were aware of, she wondered how much he knew about the merkingdom. All of these things she wanted to test the waters of, and even if she was seeing sparkles at the peripherals of her vision sometimes, she still had a mission here. If Charlie really was as humble as he seemed to be presenting, then it wouldn’t be so difficult to play him like a guilty target.

Frowning at his proposal, she wondered if it was a joke. He didn’t seem to be of any nobility. No guards or shadows that she’d seen, anyhow, so she gave a brief though awkward laugh. “Well, you tell me. How does one make up for ignoring a woman?” She flashed him a flirty look, contouring it with what she hoped appeared like genuine hurt. Then, as the stage presented itself to her figuratively speaking, she took her role to the next level. “I’m sorry,” She sighed, shaking him off as if she was breaking character instead of inventing one in the moment. Turning towards the bar again, creating a faux wall of emotion between them, Verina did her best to look forlorn. It wasn’t hard. All she had to do was think of her real concerns when it came to how lonely she was in the real world outside of this party. “I shouldn’t be projecting this onto you. It isn’t your fault I feel this way. Perhaps one day I will come to terms with the fact that it is my fault for being the way that I am which seems to be utterly undesirable at this point, even to polite strangers I barely deserve the time of.” She gestured towards him vaguely, avoiding looking at him for the full effect of scorned damsel. 

[huvall]

ophcliaisms:

Ophelia was more focused on the logistics of getting Camila’s body out of that basement instead of whatever Hugo had to say next, although she never kept him far from her peripheral view as she turned to look at the freezer. Still unsure if he would do anything, although he seemed not to care too much, she still wanted to be as cautious as she possibly could. Demons were masters of trickery, and she didn’t want to be caught in one of his if she could help it, especially in their circumstances now.

Noticing that the freezer was drilled into the ground, she realized the second option was the one she’d feared doing most – but she needed to. It didn’t help that she could hear Hugo mentioning about her playing town vigilante, rolling her eyes and huffing. Opening the freezer again and seeing Camila, she winced. Not particularly fond of picking up Camila’s corpse, and with no super strength, she reasoned she’d simply have to hold onto her arm and hope for the best when they teleported. She didn’t look too decomposed, although Ophelia worried for her head, hoping it didn’t snap off in the process but too grossed out already to carry it for the trip. Just as she put her hand in, she heard him, and felt the frost from travel up the entirety of her arm, uncontrollable as her limb turned nearly into an icicle.

Staring into the freezer, she tried to process what he said, turning back with a horrified expression slowly to look at him. She was speechless. “How–” before she could even finished, she realized who it was: Aubrey. He had done something to her, or she had put the information out there willingly after what Ophelia now considered her act during their training session. The bile in her stomach churned, feeling sick as she realized that now, she had an even more serious crisis on her hands. She huffed out, frowning deeply and shaking the ice off her arm, it falling to the ground and shattering to pieces. 

“That lying, jealous….” she shook her head, trying to regain her confidence and looking him dead in the eyes, “You have no idea what really happened, but– Evanora will never let you walk free once I tell her what you know.”

For a worrying moment, Hugo thought perhaps the witch had mastered the ability of mentally blocking anything she wanted out of her mind, and thus, rendering his taunts useless. She didn't seem to be paying attention to him and thankfully, given that her back was to him at that moment, Hugo allowed frustration and annoyance to cross his expression. He wasn't sure why he'd kept that body down here for so long, other than the thought of using it against the group later on as leverage, but even then, he knew as time went on, humans forgot. Like a Used By Date, this girl's body would grow worthless once time had healed her absence, and suddenly, he considered the look on Mystery Inc.'s faces if Phe was to bring her memory back to life in the form of her dead body. He smirked to himself then but quickly camouflaged it afterward. He'd let her take it. After all, he was sworn to a good behavior contract at the moment and while he knew how to play around it, this, he simply could allow to happen to stir up some paranoia in the group. In a way, Phe would be doing his work for him, without even realizing it. The thought filled him with demonic glee.

Watching her freeze up, quite literally, Hugo felt even more powerful. His own icy blue eyes honed in on her figure, watching the way her shoulders tightened and her feet moved before she did. He'd gotten her. Harpooned her with a taunt, in fact. He watched on happily as she began her slow descent into what he could only assume she thought was righteous deflection. "I don’t know what fantasy land you’re living in but Glinda isn't in charge here, Ophelia." He called out suddenly like maybe he was announcing the information to an entire room of people of the fact and not just her. "Maybe she can win over some freaky millennials with a cool haircut, I don’t know, maybe she can even save a town from a few ghouls but if you haven’t noticed — she’s pulled from the election. Doesn’t take a supernatural genius to figure out a weak link when they see one, thankfully she figured herself out before someone strapped her to a stake and set her on fire for it,” There was a dramatic sense of flare in his speech now, as if this was all just some performance he was used to giving. “Anyway, who’s gonna believe you? Where’s your proof? All anyone’s going to see once you leave this place is a witch who roasted her boyfriend and who knows — is maybe trying to cover up another murder. Neither of us is innocent in this room but shit, at least I can control my abilities.” He let that hang in the air between them before he poured salt in the wound too. “Look, I’m not trying to hurt your feelings but face it, Phe, who’s gonna trust a witch who can’t control her powers? You’re practically a worse detriment to society than any of us at this point.”