#;HANKEW - If I said I want your body now / Would you hold it against me?

[immovable-force-archive]

TONIGHT, we are young,

So let's set the world on FIRE,

We can burn BRIGHTER than the sun

[[@motherfucking-username​]]

[immovable-force-archive]

[ @motherfucking-username​ // From here ]

Kew wasn’t really sure what happened-- Maybe he’d mistaken Hank’s usual grump for something more severe, and poked the bear too many times. Not like it mattered.

“Do you fucking listen to yourself!?” He bites back. “Of course I’m selfish-- and I fucking earned it, unlike all the lesser devils your stubborn ass could’a been stuck with! I don’t give a shit what you think!” Although, he did give a shit about how Hank thought he should ‘kill’ Kew. He gave a lot of shits about that. “Where are we going!?”

[immovable-force-archive]

[ @motherfucking-username // From here ]

Hank's right about one thing: Knowing his life depended on someone that didn’t want it was pretty nerve-wracking. 

The past few days had been, uh... an adjustment. Getting used to what 'life' was going to be like now, and how things worked, was a slow go. Drastic things like Kew manifesting his powers (and Hank, by proxy), to basic things like how Kew could go to sleep. How he could put Hank's endless thoughts on mute, how to switch control back-and-forth without falling flat on their face. (As little as they'd practiced with that-- Hank didn't like losing control of his body, because of course he didn’t.) Even just figuring out what they did and didn't share, and why... It's a steep learning curve. It'd be stupid to think that the burden was all on Kew's shoulders-- He knew it was hard on Hank, too. Yeah, the guy didn't have to deal with being a ghost (as much as it seemed like he’d prefer that, at times), but he had to live with one. And not by choice.

Heehee, Kew almost felt bad... Dumbass.

Progress might be slow, but it was there. Kew figured out how to separate-- to get out of Hank's mind (or so they deduced, at some point) and float around as a ghost! It turned out relaxing was the key, of all things. Almost like meditation, or falling asleep... Something that was easier at times like this, when Hank had been drinking.

Wisps of black smoke drifted  around Hank as the spirit pulled away, almost seeming to rise up out of the floor. A pitch-black ghost in a mostly-humanoid shape soon hovered above Hank and blocked his oh-so-exciting view of the ceiling. Two small, red dots stared down at him, though they gave the ghost more of a curious look than anything intimidating.

"..." Kew slowly tilted his head at the small question, almost like he was trying to work out if it was directed at him. (Who else would it be directed at? Sumo?) "Could I?" The devil's 'voice' comes out a little warped. Not slurred, but distorted. "Could I? Hah! Hahaaaaa... We're drunk. Damn you." What was the question? Whatever it was, that probably wasn’t the answer. Kew hovers a little closer. “Stupid human. Did I ever tell you that? You’re a stupid human. You scare me.”

... Wait, he didn’t mean to say that. That was a secret! The ghost jerks a little, looking away. “... I shouldn’t’a said that.” he admits, quiet. “... I-- What’dja ask? If I’m happy? Iunno. Y’ain’t so bad.” Kew pauses, then nods his head, as if that perfectly answered the question. “... Yeah. Y’ain’t so bad. Y’think I’m cool. That’s pretty cool, hehe.”

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[ Honk @ Kew ] "'M sick," Hank informed, not moving to get up. "Which means we're gonna stay here all day - what, do devils not get sick?"

“Oh.” Kew thought somethin’ felt off, physically. Almost wondered if they were somehow hungover, like they managed to accidentally get drunk and didn’t remember. It almost lightens his mood though, knowing they’d just be hangin’ out in bed all day. How they were gonna eat or feed Sumo, Kew had no idea, but it sounded like Hank knew what he was doing. Wasn’t panicking, at least… Hm.

“No, they do,” he assures. “I got sick all the time. Should'a been more afraid ‘a someone sneezin’ on me than tryin’ to punch me, heh. Fuckin’ hemocolds. That what this is?” It didn’t feel nearly severe enough to be a hemocold– Hank would’a been coughing up blood by now– but those were the most common back home. Maybe that’s just a thing in the Realm of the Dead, and humans don’t have those! Fuck, wouldn’t that be great? Somethin’ working out in Kew’s favor for once! No more worrying about getting screwed over by his shit-ass blood, and–!

… Fuck, wait a minute. Hank has devil blood now– Kew’s type, D1. He didn’t get Kew’s shitty immune-system too, did he? It’s not his fault Hank’s sick now, right?

“… Er…” No, don’t bring it up, idiot! “Uh– Nevermind!”

[immovable-force-archive]

Not from a meme but it probably could’ve been tbh // @motherfucking-username

Hank was... tough. Tougher than the average human, Kew liked to believe. While Kew would never admit to finding the guy intimidating, from the very beginning, he thought Hank had an 'in-charge' air about him. The guy with the most expertise, and fucking knew it. The guy that wasn't afraid to do what needed to be done, and make the difficult choices. The guy with nothing left to lose, as Kew soon learned.

The very thought of him crying seemed wrong. He's not that kind of guy, right? He's strong. Strong people don't cry! Hell, Hank hadn't cried the first time Kew forcibly took control away from him-- what could be worse than that?

Well. That's an easy answer.

"..." Hearing the strain in Hank's voice as he stared laser-beam-focused on the ceiling, Kew happily took the initiative to float away from body. He rose up through the bed, gently, ultimately placing himself above Hank. (Like he was trying to block his view of the ceiling-- something Kew did a lot, now that he thought about it. Hank stared blankly into the damn ceiling a lot.) He wasn't crying yet, Kew noticed. Not sure if that was for the best or not. Sometimes crying helps, sure, but... maybe something else would help more. Kew just wished he knew what that was.

"... I dunno if it's like that," he says, voice soft and unsure, already regretting it. Yeah, 'you're wrong' is what Hank wants to hear now! Feh. "I mean, I'm sure there's, uh... He existed, yeah? I bet other people remember 'im, it ain't all up to you. Shouldn't hafta be all up to you, y'know?"

It seemed like a trap to continue into specifics, like asking about Cole's mother, and whether she'd remember. She could be dead too, and that's a box Kew didn't wanna open. What if he fucked up and pushed Hank over the edge? "-- Hey, uh, you got that picture.” Kew suddenly changes tactics, hovering a little closer. "Pictures don't change. He'll always be there. Maybe, uh..." Right, that doesn't change the fact that there'd be no one to remember who he was, just what he looked like. Hmm... "Maybe write some stuff about him. Like what he was like, stuff he did, I dunno. People can find it and be like, 'Hey, this shit's important, someone wrote it down!'"

It was almost juvenile, the way Kew seemed to get more excited about his own idea. Like he'd just come up with the idea of a time capsule or museum, and was trying to explain it. Kew wasn't even convinced Hank would really do anything like that, it sounded like the kind of shit Hank would laugh off as 'That's a stupid idea, you're stupid, y'don't know how things work.' But... Well, if that happens, then at least he'd be laughing about something. Better than nothing, ain't it? 

Gh, now that he thinks about it, that shitty idea doesn't even solve the actual problem, that Hank hates himself for forgetting about his own kid. Maybe he should've been focusing on that. (Hmph, there’s lotsa shit Kew wishes he could forget... funny how memory works.) Kew slowly drifted back down towards the bed, curling up on the edge as if he was sitting. "... Hey," he mumbles, barely audible. Kew glances out the window, somehow feeling even less confident. "I remember somethin'. I remember there's a place with unlimited milkshakes n' fries, on Thursday. And it's Thursday. So."

He wasn't actually sure if it was Thursday. That didn’t seem important.

[immovable-force-archive]

❝ are you going to hide in my shoulder the whole time? or actually watch the movie? ❞ {{ From Hank to Kew bc this is my kink

autumn/halloween sentence starters! 🍂🍁🎃

“I’ll hide wherever the HELL I want, Hank–”

The statement was only slightly undercut by a loud music sting from the TV, as the face of the killer jumped in front of the camera, and Kew shrieked. FUCK! Why the hell had he agreed to this!? Well, short answer, he didn’t. Or, kind of– Look, when Hank said ‘Horror Movie’, Kew didn’t know what he was getting himself into! Or, well, he did. A movie that’s supposed to be scary, to make you afraid. Why the hell humans would want to be scared, Kew didn’t know, but Hank was fuckin’ into it apparently! Fucked up human! The devil had no idea that there would be– that there–

Okay, fine, it was pride, okay!? Kew got himself all excited to watch a horror movie out of pride, because he’s a big scary devil that ain’t afraid of shit! Except a scary face on a screen that can’t hurt him, apparently.

He’d popped out of Hank’s body for the occasion, just because it felt more natural to act like he was sitting on the couch with Hank. Was really regretting it though– It meant Hank could see his ghostly form react, curling towards him and trying to hide his face in Hank’s shoulder. He didn’t wanna watch this shit! Didn’t want fuckin– scary faces to pop up for no reason! “This is fucked,” he grumbles shakily, trying (failing) to sound more bitter than whiny. “Movie’s fucked, your tastes are fucked, humans are fucked– that motherfucker with the chainsaw is super fucked!” He pointed a frantic hand towards the screen without looking, just assuming the killer was there. 

[immovable-force-archive]

[[ @motherfucking-username bribed me with cat pictures to post this, so here it is! Enjoy!

What? Context? Lol who’s that]]

[immovable-force-archive]

Break my muse. Exploit their insecurities and weaknesses. Do whatever it takes to make them angry or cry. // @motherfucking-username​

                    "̨͚̃͝I̗͉͕͗̽̊ţ̞̭̇̔̂'̛̹̣̗̐̎l̮̔l̫͗ ̹̞͕̓̍̉b̳̅ȩ̙̹͖̑͛̕͡ f͍̪͎́̀̉i̺̬̙̔̄̉n͎̥̍̒̚͢e̢̖̦̾̎͝,̲̩̀̈ ̨͈͗͞b̢̊a̧͍͙̝̾̽̄̚ḃ̩̳̎y̝̏.̤̀ ̰̀J͚͈̠̑̂̕ṷ͚̳̅͘͝st̨̬̝̒͛̾ g͓̻̜̗͐̆̓͞o̧͓͗̎ ͖̣̑͊b̺͚̿̽a̧͈̓͜͞͞c̰͐͟͠k̦͞ ̺͚͙̀̓͑t̼̦̫̲̐͂̽̽o̻̰̤͗̃̕ ̮̲͒͠s͇̽l̙̀͆͜ȅ͖̮͠è͍̲̕͢͠p̳͚͙̍͝͡.̧͈̄͞"̠̀͘͟

Kew didn't know what they were doing here. Hell, he rarely did, and didn't usually bother to ask-- Hank seemed fond of surprises. Just assumed this was another surprise, like they were gonna find another place with unlimited burgers and shakes in this part of town. In this building! On the top floor of this building. ... On the roof. Along the edge.

'You can trust me.' And he did. It felt more like a choice these days.

The fact that Hank started out with the words 'killing himself' as he overlooked the cars on the street below didn't inspire much confidence. "Hank," Kew murmured, concerned and warning, but the man kept going anyway. He saw things differently, huh? Like not wanting to kill himself anymore! Right? That's where this is going, right? Yeah! He learned he's not so bad of a guy, that's great! That's--

...

                      Y̺̙̘̎́̓o̼͈̰͆̓̓u͇͋ ͙̤̃̍͢͞s̲̬̀̎̃ͅh͉̲͔̀̈́͌o̳̕ú̠l̦̰̖̝̃͒̿͒͒͜d̥͆ b̖̟̿̀̊ͅe̯̫̽͐ ̞̳̀̌d̫͉̝̻̀͌͌͡e̱͙̺̳͆̋̔͘a̿͘͟ͅd̢̳̝̑̚̕!̟̄̃͟

"What?" Hank didn't seem to care that Kew was itching to interrupt, though Kew was almost too shocked to think of anything. "I'm not-- I-- What the fuck are you talking about!? Hey! HEY, LISTEN TO ME, YOU--!" ... Oh. Kew realized much too late that there wasn't going to be a discussion. Hank didn't come up here to talk. 

He came up here because the last time he tried to shoot himself, it didn't work.

                          Y̧̥̫͒̏̚O̱̲͚̼̘͉͆̌́̿̍̕͟͝Ü̧̧͎̻̈́͘͘ ̢͚̳̗͚́̀̓͡͠Ŗ̝̖̦̙̍̀͆̌̚͠ͅÚ̖Ĭ͇͙̩͊̋̃͟͢͠N͕̑Ȩ̬͙̰͎̇͂̉͘͡D͙͝ ̖͚̤͙̙̼̤̿̆̂͌͗̒͞Ȩ̗̫̑͗̀̄͜͜͠V͓̦͖̭̏̔͌̆Ḙ͉̈́̎R̞̩̭̮̼̉̾͆̋͘Y͎̪̩͖̩̰̏̾̎͌͝͠T͍̓H̫̉I̗̰̋͛͗͢N̨͈̥̈̃̒Ǵ̡͔̖̋͂!͖͓̞̰͍̻̇̐̌̌́̃̕͜

"NO!" Kew roared in Hank's mind, but this time, Hank didn't even seem to notice. "HANK, DON'T! I WON'T LET YOU! HANK!!"

None of this fucking matters! All Kew has to do is take control, and he can use his barrier to survive the jump! The sensation of falling makes Kew shriek like a banshee, clawing desperately for control in the short time he had-- and hitting a wall. No. NO! HE WON'T! HE WON'T LET THIS HAPPEN AGAIN, HE FUCKING TRUSTED HANK! IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE DIFFERENT THIS TIME! HE HAS TO USE HIS BARRIER, HE HAS TO LIVE, HE-- HE--!!

“I HATE YOU!”

That’s all he could manage, before the ground rushed up to meet them.

(Is it sick that part of him couldn't help but feel happy, that Hank seemed so proud?)

[immovable-force-archive]

[Honk @ Kew] "Yeah, everything in that movie was real. If you get up at night, tonight, that thing's gonna come rip our eyes out 'n kill us. So you can't get out of bed no matter what, okay?" A flawless plan for a perfect night's sleep, probably.

He’s quiet for a few moments, already going over the scariest parts in his mind. Like when that thing jumped in front of the screen and the loud noise played, and– and the part where there was a scream, and– “Why the fuck didn’t you say so sooner!?” He yelps in Hank’s mind. If he’d known shit like that was lurking around, he wouldn’t keep getting up at night! … Not that he wouldn’t be able to take a monster like that, but still. “I’ve just been walkin’ around, doin’ shit, and that thing’s been right around the corner!? How the fuck do you sleep!? Why don’t you stay up and shoot it, or– Grr!”

Well, if shooting the thing did anything, the people in the movie probably would’ve. Hmph… Well, the thing hasn’t run into a devil before! Maybe he’ll see if he can hear it lurking around tonight, then beat it up tomorrow. And if that doesn’t work, Plan B is to just bring sticks of butter, sticky notes, and crayons in bed with ‘em.

[immovable-force-archive]

send me a ship // @motherfucking-username​

1- Who is the most affectionate?

Tough one right out of the starting gate! Both of these two can be pretty prickly. I could see Kew being the one to initiate more often, but Hank does look like he gives the best hugs, so who knows tbh.

2- Big spoon/Little spoon?

Kew as big spoon, if only so Hank doesn’t have to stick his face in Kew’s carpet of gross hair.

3- Most common argument?

These two love bickering, honestly. I think over time as they get more comfortable around each other (as comfortable as you can get when you’re possessed), their arguments become more playful than like real arguments. Still, Kew taking control and doing something stupid is probably a thing that never really stops happening. Or Kew meeting up with Loqero while Hank’s asleep.

I am assuming this ship meme is with them both in the same body right

4- Favorite non-sexual activity?

Watching movies or trying new foods. Or trying old foods! Kew always loves his milkshakes.

5- Who is most likely to carry the other?

Hank is always carrying Kew, technically. Kew would love picking up Hank during dreams and carrying him around though, just to show-off. I’m guessing Hank would hate that though.

6- What is their favorite feature of their partner’s?

I think Kew starts out thinking Hank is kinda ugly, but grows to like a lot about him, so this is a tough question. He likes his hair (because it reminds Kew of his own hair), likes his eyes, likes the tattoo on his chest. The tattoo might take the ‘favorite’ prize, but it’s close between those three.

7- What’s the first thing that changes when they realize they have feelings for the other?

Things get waaaaaaay more awkward.

8- Nicknames? & if so, how did they originate?

Kew loves nicknames, but that’s mostly because he sucks with names really bad. He doesn’t tend to give nicknames to people with one-syllable names like Hank. Early on, he calls Hank things like “Stupid Human” (or just Human), “Host”, (in narration), “Hank Lieutenant” (thinking that’s his last name and not learning his actual one for awhile), and “Hanky.” I think he sticks with ‘Hank’ for the most part, but ‘Stupid human’ still pops up every once in awhile.

9- Who worries the most?

Hank, I think? Or maybe he doesn’t give enough of a shit to, I dunno. Most of Kew’s worrying is for his own life when Hank’s thoughts start spiraling.

10- Who remembers what the other one always orders at a restaurant?

Hank.

11- Who tops?

Lmao

12- Who initiates kisses?

In dreams? Kew, maybe.

13- Who reaches for the other’s hand first?

Again, Kew, maybe?

14- Who kisses the hardest?

ffFFFFFF Uhhhh Haaaaank...? Or maybe Kew if he’s bein’ a desperate boi?? Oh god I have no clue don’t kill me Ellie

15- Who wakes up first?

Depends on your definition of ‘wakes up first.’ Technically Kew wakes up in the middle of the night to eat sticks of butter but does that count as waking up first, or last?

16- Who wants to stay in bed just a little longer?

Definitely Hank.

17- Who says I love you first?

Uuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh shrug emoji haven’t gotten that far

18- Who leaves little notes in the other’s one lunch? (Bonus: what does it usually say?)

Kew. He probably leaves little notes on everything.

19- Who tells their family/friends about their relationship first?

Gonna take a wild guess and say neither of them, because Kew has no living family/friends (except Loqero, who I guess might find out but I dunno if Kew would tell him) and Hank can’t exactly say he’s dating the demon that lives in his head. Not unless he wants to get wheeled into an insane asylum.

20- What do their family/friends think of their relationship?

Nothing because they never find out lmao

21- Who is more likely to start dancing with the other?

Kew, he’d dance and sing along to songs in Hank’s music collection at night, and he’d suck at it. It quickly becomes one of the things Kew isn’t allowed to do at night because Hank doesn’t want to wake up tired and sore the next morning.

22- Who cooks more/who is better at cooking?

Hank, because Kew is Klueless about anything except what foods taste good. Unless he has to cook a soul, I guess.

23- Who comes up with cheesy pick up lines?

Dunno if I could see either of them doing that, but Kew might as a joke. Maybe some bad devil pick-up lines that don’t really translate to humans well.

24- Who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear during inappropriate times?

Isn’t that all Kew does?

25- Who needs more assurance?

Both of them probably, they’re both disasters. I’d probably say Hank here if I had to pick.

26- What would be their theme song?

Carry On by fun. is pretty much perfect for them. I also like Shallow by Lady Gaga.

27- Who would sing to their child back to sleep?

Kew. He’d sing Devilian lullabies.

28- What do they do when they’re away from each other?

Not a problem with this ship B)

Nah just kidding. When Hank’s asleep, Kew relishes his time in control, usually staying in the house and examining Hank’s stuff, playing with Sumo, sampling things in the fridge, trying to craft things out of whatever’s lying around, texting Hank questions for the morning-- He does a lot. A lot that’s against the rules Hank wants him to follow at night, but a lot.

Kew usually ‘sleeps’ through Hank waking up and the first couple hours he’s at work, so who knows what Hank does them in his rare time of silence.

29- one headcanon about this OTP that breaks your heart.

These two are more transparent with their issues and insecurities than most other duos, just because of the nature of their relationship. So when they fight, they can go straight for the throat. The argument thread is still pretty heartbreaking because they’re both just angry and trying to hurt each other. I remember OOC, we were pretty convinced that was going to end really badly. I think Kew lives in fear that there will be one day that things are too bad, that Hank gets too good at fighting him off, and there’s nothing he can do to stop Hank from killing them both. That in the end, their relationship isn’t really equal, and Hank holds the ultimate trump card. Kew can’t trust Hank, yet has no choice in the matter. It gets one step worse if Hank tries to do something to get rid of Kew, like an exorcism or something else, regardless of if it works or not.

Also this reply breaks my heart every single time, because it shows the exact opposite. In some way, they do both have the power to ruin the only things the other cares about, and have to live painfully aware of it.

30- one headcanon about this OTP that mends it.

I love the idea of them building up a strong bond, enough that if something happened to Kew (his soul got ‘captured’, still connected to Hank but just trapped somewhere), Hank would try to rescue him. ‘Fixing their situation’ gradually stops being ‘Get Kew out of my head and make sure he stays dead.’ And the same goes for Kew, who probably figures out that he could eat Hank’s soul at any time to take full control of his body, but ultimately lies and hides that fact. He doesn’t want to do it, but also can’t quite admit (for awhile) that it’s because he cares about Hank too much.

Hank probably figures that out anyway.

[immovable-force-archive]

“ Tell me something, boy,   Aren't you tired tryin' to fill that void?   Or do you need more?   Ain't it hard keeping it so hardcore?   I'm falling...   In all the good times, I find myself longing   for change...   And in the bad times, I fear myself.

  I'm off the deep end! Watch as I dive in!   I'll never meet the ground!   Crash through the surface, where they can't hurt us,   We're far from the shallow now... “

[immovable-force-archive]

Drabble me! // @motherfucking-username

[O] Leave a “Kill Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about my character killing yours. [X] Leave a “Tell Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about my character confessing something to yours [be it a love confession, a secret, feel free to specify.]

The view from the playground was beautiful when it snowed.

They came here a lot, Kew noticed. Whenever shit went down, and they had too much to think about... this is the place Hank's mind seemed to go to, and it's easy to see why. A brilliant skyline shined in the distance, blasting through the black sky like an explosion. They seemed to be on the other side of some kind of flowing lake, with a massive, suspended road that connected the two sides. Even if you took away the cars passing over, the bridge was lit up in blue lights, just like lots of things in this city. The detail of it all was stunning when he really looked, right down to how the snow piled up around the 'feet' of the fence in front of them.

Kew's legs materialized beneath him, as he stepped into the scene. Hank wasn’t hard to find, always in the middle of it, on the same bench. That sharp detail was noticeably lost, in places Hank wasn't facing-- things too far behind him didn't exist at all yet, melding into the black void Kew had come out from. As he got closer, the world became more focused-- Kew could always tell when Hank noticed his presence, because the snow would start crunching beneath his feet, taking his footprints.

"..." Hank looked up from the glass in his hand; just a glance at first, as Kew came into view beside the bench. Then a double-take, brows furrowing. "... Ah, shit," he grumbles after a second, shaking his head. "I'm dreaming."

"Mhm." It's kinda funny, watching Hank rediscover that every time. Devils don't dream, so Kew had no idea if it was normal... Still, at least Hank was aware enough to know what Kew's appearance meant, and he didn't have to explain it every damn time. This was the only place Kew didn't appear as a ghost. He was here, fully, as he used to be.

Kew stepped up, climbing to sit on the back of the bench, the same way Hank did. (Although Kew kept one foot planted on the 'seat' of the bench and bent the other one up, so he could rest his elbow on his knee.) "Guess this means we're talkin', huh?"

Hank scoffed, with a bitter sort of smirk. "That what it means? Or are ya not even letting me sleep in peace anymore?"

Kew's brows lowered, looking back out towards the bridge. They stayed like that for bit, long enough that Kew could feel the snow peppering his horns and shoulders. (No doubt in his giant carpet of hair too.) Hank looked the same, white flakes standing out against the shoulders of his black coat. Some clumps of snow had made their way into his whiskey glass as well, which he was staring at like there was an eye floating in it.

"... I'm... sorry for what I said."

The stare was instantly redirected to Kew.

"I know you don't wanna hear it, I get it," Kew raised a hand to stop Hank from interrupting. (He didn't actually get it, but it sounded like the right thing to say.) "So-- Fine, I'm not sorry, whatever. But I regret it."

Hank blew out a tense breath. "Don't get hung up on it. I don't care."

"Yeah, well I do," he bit back, talking faster. "You didn't need to see me like that. I shouldn't'a even brought up Raikaira." Kew folded his arms, glaring towards the ground. Hank didn't say anything-- maybe he could detect that Kew wasn't done. (Damn him. This whole dream-world was a testament to how fucking observant he was.) "I meant what I said, that's what it is. You can say whatever ya want about what was honest and what ya just said to piss me off, but I meant... I meant the shit about not bein' safe. That was too much."

Another beat of silence. He could hear Hank sipping his whiskey-- a cue to continue, Kew thought. "I give you too much shit to use against me-- that whole fucking argument's proof of that. Now you've got that too-- Can't wait t'see whatcha do with that, fuck. An' you got the best shot'a killin' me out of anything, you know that. So I got no choice but to trust you." Kew chewed on his lip, almost recoiling at the poke of his sharp teeth. This was the most vulnerable to another person Kew had ever been, the most barriers he'd ever dropped, and certainly not by choice. He hates it. It's fucking terrifying, having no choice but to put faith in someone... Giving away any part of himself felt like conceding too much ground. Slipping too many steps in a tug-of-war that Hank could start pulling on whenever he pleased. ... Sometimes it was hard to think that it was the same for Hank. But that was the other thing that the argument made crystal clear, wasn't it? They’re... similar. There was some comfort, in knowing that was a two-way-street-- Hank didn't have much choice but to trust Kew either. Trust him not to constantly fight for control, ruin his entire life and career, or even kill those he cared about and force him to watch. Those were all things Kew could’ve done at the start, and they certainly wouldn’t be here talking if he had. "... S'easy t'think you're some kinda mastermind, lookin' for shit to control me with, 'till ya come up with a good way to get me killed. I know you’re fuckin’ smart." Could he really blame Hank, if that's really how it was? Could he blame Raikaira?

Another sipping sound. Kew glanced over, seeing Hank had slouched a bit. Snow had gathered a bit more on his shoulders, the world around them becoming fuzzier. "So what's your point?" He asks, voice low and grumbly.

"My point--" ... Well shit, what was his point? That his trust's broken? That they had any trust to break in the first place? That Hank pissed away any of the care Kew had felt for him, and they're going to be enemies now? Is that really the path they're gonna go down? Because it's not what Kew wanted, and fuck, he didn't even want to admit that to himself. "... I don't know what my point is."

Hank made a small sound at that. Kew shivered-- a gust of wind seemed to blow right through him. Despite that, he scooched over on the bench, closer to Hank-- enough to accidentally nudge him in the side of the head with one of his horns, making the man jerk in surprise.

"I guess I don't actually think you're like that," Kew admits, nearly letting his eyes droop shut. He slouched as well, resting his cheek against his fist. "And fuck, I hate myself for that."

Part of him wanted Hank to say that he wasn't. Of course not-- he didn't give enough of a shit to cook up a long, drawn-out scheme to kill the demon that lived in his head. If he wanted Kew dead, Kew would be the first one to know about it-- Echoes of their very first conversation played in his mind, where Hank threatened it outright. He’d rip Kew out and make him suffer.  Hm, hadn’t thought of that in awhile... It was one of the first damn things Hank ever said to him. Why would he put up an act now? -- But that could be part of the plan. Anything could be twisted, to be part of the plan. Kew was a fool for trusting his own judgement; what happened the last time he did that!? At the end of the day, Kew was just going to believe whatever hurt the most, to justify whatever shitty thing he was going to do next, and that’s the honest truth. Maybe it’d be better for Hank to laugh like a fucking supervillain and reveal his evil plan in a giant monologue, twirling his mustache about how stupid Kew was. And, of course, he wanted to Hank to say he would've gotten away with it, if Kew wasn't so clever, and hadn't seen right through him. That his plan is ruined, and Kew's safe.

It's a fantasy.

"...!?" A sudden weight on his shoulders made Kew jolt, looking to see a thick, black coat draped over him. "Hank?" The man himself was standing now, a look in his blue eyes that Kew couldn't read. (When could he ever?)

"You're shakin' the bench," he said, matter-of-fact, brows lowered in annoyance. "Gettin' on my nerves. Did they ever invent jackets in Devil Land, or does everyone run around in tank-tops?"

Kew kept staring, eyes wide, though another gust of wind encouraged him to pull the edges of the coat closer. "... Uh," Kew blinked, having no idea how to answer, or even if he should. Hank didn't seem interested in waiting, turning to walk closer to the fence, idly swinging his arms. His breath came out in a cloud of fog-- Kew wasn't sure if that had been happening the entire time or not. "Thanks?"

"Don't, kid," Hank huffed, leaning forward against the fence. "It's a fuckin' dream-coat."

... Well. He had a point. "Maybe I'll keep it. I'll wear it every time you dream."

Hank peered over his shoulder. He looked Kew up and down, then raised his brows with a shrug. "Do it. Suits you."

"The hell it does!" Okay, that got Kew to smile. Dammit! "It's huge. And I don't wear sleeves."

"Give it back, then," Hank frowned. "Ungrateful bastard."

"Not a chance."

"Course not."

Hank turned his back again, leaving a longer break of silence. 'Cause you're selfish, Kew assumed to be the end of that... Whatever. Kew never claimed to be anything better. If anything, being selfish was the only thing keeping him alive-- ... Well. It kept him alive before. Damned if it wasn't easy, and convenient, to only look out for Number One. His thoughts kept coming back to that, didn't it? How easy it all was... He's fooling himself, thinking things should still be that easy. It wasn't selfishness that saved his life during that argument. Or if it was, it wasn't selfishness that saved Hank's life.

He’s still not sure why he did that.

"... I should letcha sleep," Kew sighed, sliding off the bench, adjusting the coat around himself again. “Thought I knew what I wanted t’talk about. Maybe I will in the morning.” Hank didn't say anything in protest, so after a couple seconds, Kew turned away. The black void waited just behind the swing-set, like the entire playground just trailed into a pitch-black tunnel. A minute of walking, and he’d be back in the darkness that had become familiar. Stuck sitting there, until he went to sleep or Hank decided to wake up. 

... Eugh. It felt wrong, leaving things like that.

Kew turned again, walking back towards Hank. Not close enough to stand beside him, but close enough to reach out, and pat him on the shoulder. Who knows why-- some small comfort, maybe. Probably one Hank didn’t want, from the way he jolted at the contact. It’s just... not only was this the only place Kew could show up as himself, it’s the only place he could touch anything. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss some kind of contact... So it’s selfish. It’s always selfish. (That thought isn’t as comforting as it usually was.)

His hand probably lingered a little too long-- enough for Hank to turn around and give him a look like he had three heads. Right, uh... That’s his cue to leav-- “What was that for?” Hank asked, cutting the thought off.

“...” Kew backed up a step, his hands going back to holding the coat around him. Um... Shit. No good answer here, is there? He glanced away for a second, then shrugs. “For me,” he settled on. “Selfish devil, remember?”

With that, he finally turned to walk away. Hank’s stare burned into the back of his head... which meant the black void wasn’t appearing, where it had been before. In fact, the playground behind them had come into that same, sharp focus. The merry-go-round shifting back-and-forth slightly with the wind, the swing-set chains rattling. The parking lot behind it all-- Hank's car was even there, as if he’d actually driven here. What was Kew going to do, just keep walking until he found the exit? Hop in Hank’s car and go for a joyride? “Turn around,” Kew announces, not looking back. “I can’t leave if you’re watchin’.”

Maybe Hank knew that too.

[immovable-force-archive]

♫ but u get to pick which boy it's tossed at heyo suffer

Send “♫” for a song that reminds me of our muses relationship.

[[You’re gonna end yourself at both of these honestly]]

T.M.Revolution - Resonance (AmaLee English Cover)

All at once, our fates, they’ve intertwined.Within a single glance, when your eyes met mine.We gotta get through this unbearable night,And I’ll see to it with you by my side.Chasing a dream that shone too brightly,Blinding our hearts.It was leading us on into a nightmare!

Two souls unite!A fire like a spotlight,It points the way to your heart.It’s getting louder, stronger,I know that you can hear it,But can’t describe it in words.We were linked by fate!And our souls drew together,For reasons we’ll never know.But as we’re earning our scars,The answer’s getting clearer,It leads me closer to you.

Taylor Swift - Delicate

This ain’t for the best.My reputation’s never been worse, soYou must like me for me.We can’t makeAny promises now, can we, babe?But you can make me a drink.

Is it cool that I said all that?Is it chill that you’re in my head?‘Cause I know that it’s delicate.

[immovable-force-archive]

💬

Send 💬  for me to make you a starter with a random line of dialogue from this generator.

Kew didn’t pretend to understand humans, beyond what flavor souls he liked the best. He didn’t pretend to understand their world, or why it worked the way it did, or why it had to be so complicated– why people had to be so complicated. Devils were pretty damn simple, by comparison. No homes, barely any property, no real hopes or dreams… Y’know what most devils aspired to? Survival. They wanted to make it halfway through their lives, to reach Adulthood. To get more powerful, and be the strongest, then pass on their strong blood. That was it. That’s all that ever waited, and it was only for the luckiest of devils. So it’s stupid, maybe, that even after his death, all Kew wanted was to survive, but it’s ingrained in him.

Hank is… frustrating, sometimes.

Humans are stupid; Hank wasn’t doing much to change his mind on that. It’s not even the first time that Kew had woken up from a nice, ghostly nap to find them sitting at the counter in some dark, smokey place. Lots of strange, vaguely-threatening humans around, all thankfully ignoring them. (For now.) Feeling the burn of alcohol in his throat, as Hank slurped down another glass like he didn’t feel a thing. Figuring something must’ve happened that Kew missed, with Hank’s thoughts offering no clues. And maybe nothing happened at all. Maybe this is just how his stupid fuckin’ host spends his free time, drinking the both of them silly and defenseless around a bunch of people that could clock them over the head with a bottle at any moment, and that’d be it! That’s the end of ‘em! What’s to stop that from happening!?

“You must be mad, coming here like this.” The devil grumbles into Hank’s head, not even bothering to announce that he was awake first. (Hah, maybe Hank’d jump and spill his booze on himself, that’d be funny.) He didn’t really care what definition of ‘mad’ they were going with either– Both were accurate, and it didn’t matter. All that mattered was making it through the night.