(please leave some votes so that I can know that people are actually interested in this and I am not posting things with no one to read TT)
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Hongjoong was sprawled on the grassland as San patiently sat beside him, investigating his nails for any sort of grime. "I am telling you again, this is not something you should focus on."
San glared, "just tell me, I don't care if it's important for me or not."
"Fine." Hongjoong growled in his palms, rolling over on his stomach. "Envy is in love."
One word and San was on top of Hongjoong, gripping his shoulders with inhuman strength and shaking him. "What!"
"Can you stop hurting me every time I say something? Get off me." Hongjoong retorted, attempting to flounder away from San.
The other pouted, feigning dolent eyes at Hongjoong before innocuously getting off Hongjoong and sitting down beside him. He looked like a kitten, with big eyes, or more like a devil disguised as an angel.
Had it been a sole human instead of hongjoong, he would have been captivated by the fox that San was.
"Lord found it and he punished him severely." Hongjoong ended shortly, scrutinizing his own black chipped nails.
"And...?" San waited anticipatedly, eyes brimming with elation.
Why was he exhilarated to know?
"That's it." Hongjoong said, ambivalent about the whole situation. He couldn't quite grasp on the things San had in his mind. Had he followed Hongjoong all the way to hell just to know what had happened between him and Envy?
"Hah! Poor peasant." San snickered, mocking sardonically. "But you didn't tell me the whole thing? Elaborate." He ordered, like a king on a throne.
"Why should I? You wanted to know one thing and therefore I told you." Hongjoong bit out, mumbling soft words to himself in a daze.
"No, no, you don't have a say in this. Tell me." San dissented, precisely plucking out the grass hair and flashing aureate eyes at Hongjoong in a diabolic way.
"I refuse. You can't order me around like I work for you. I don't, you can know the rest from someone else, there were literal servants there. You can go and order them around, not me." Hongjoong decisively said.
San was furious, fingers viciously plucking grass. "You have fights with everyone you pass through, isn't that tiring? Now I know why they hate you."
Hongjoong didn't want to argue, "Thanks for not lying to me and sugar-coating your words." A small smile formed on his lips, oddly calm. "I will leave now."
He was walking away before San could declare more ruthless words.
Life was prejudiced, like an apteryx bird with no feathers settling in Hongjoong, and asking him for slices of his life he failed to muster.
The sun was sinking down the horizon, in a mourning hue of saffron. The mornings on earth are bittersweet, and nights oh so painstakingly alluring, but sunsets always reminded Hongjoong of a melancholy bride shedding tears for her dead husband.
It was like looking at a bouquet of cyclamens, lined beautifully together, held together by slackened ribbons. Like an unctuous lover admiring his wife, acutely knowing that they won't be having a future together.
Hongjoong didn't believe in love, as the fantasies of lovers never ending together petrified him. How they fall in the arms of death, weeping the loss of someone they cherished dearly.
Love is death camouflaged as rhapsody, however no one knows that it is actually literal death -ugly and gruesome- veiling itself in the visage of beauty. It's divine, it captivates and stirs souls of folks, but leaves them craving and yearning for more.
It's like a canvas of tapestry, filled, but when the thread loses its track of time, it falls apart in the hands of the maker. With the vows of eternity, the lovers may begin, but it has to bid the last of its goodbyes before parting ways from the barrier it was attached to.
It falls, and an atramentous ink spreads through it, coating it in its wicked pigment. Love is not true. It's just a myth.
The sun had settled when Hongjoong stepped on the pavement in a city, the sapphire color of night enveloping the sky like a tyrant spell. The stars humming a serenade, and a cold breeze messing around with people.
Hongjoong didn't favor hell.
The bellicostic persona of devils and demons there piqued his senses, how they searched and scavenged for battles here and there. How each one of them has hurt each other physically.
Hongjoong didn't like it. His skin was known for being exaggeratingly pale and sensitive, their lord designing him in such a way to satisfy humans, but the other sins have always seemed to take advantage of it. Bruising him and scaring him in numerous ways which were nefarious.
Only if he could shut them off. But now it seems only death will stop them from bugging Hongjoong.
Hongjoong was made 25 years ago.
He is young and youthful, but his life is in dull colors of ash and dove. He has no confidant, that's why he is always restless. But does he need one?
Hongjoong's mantle swayed behind him as he lurched on a stone, staggering forward with uneasiness.
Strong arms caught him before he could touch the rocky ground, holding him up steadily. Hongjoong was met with big brown eyes, high cheekbones and full, mushy and fuchsia-like lips. He had a flamboyant aura around him, mahogany wavy hair.
"Hey there, are you okay?" He was huge, way taller than Hongjoong. But he had a genuine, altruistic smile taking over his lips.
"Yeah, I am okay." Hongjoong smiled back, small but authentic.
"You don't look like you are from here, yeah?" The tall man started.
'Only if you could know where I am from.'
"Uh yeah, no, I am from the countryside. I was involved in a theater play here, so don't mind the way I am dressed." Hongjoong grinned broadly, witty and astute.
If anything, Hongjoong deeply desired human touch. And this broad man looked extremely scrumptious. Hongjoong could make this man lose himself in a reverie, sirenize him keenly and throw him into complete disarray. He wouldn't mind, right?
He seemed affected, confound eyes peering at him. "Oh I wish I could see one of your plays." He sighed, like a forsaken husband, seeking to luxuriate in the warmth of his opulent wife. "My name is Yunho, what's yours?" He was deceived.
"Hongjoong."
"Pretty name for a pretty face." Yunho commented, eyes ogling at the curve of Hongjoong's gown, which was accentuated with extravagant ornaments.
Hongjoong smiled coyly, lifting a finger to Yunho's lips to silent him, "no talks, take me to your house?" He asked fervently, candid and spontaneous, but that's how humans preferred things.
Catching him by collar, Hongjoong pulled Yunho into a saccharine kiss. Yunho's passionate hands trailed down Hongjoong's body, effervescent lips sending Hongjoong into a bliss state.
That was it.
That was what he had craved.
Humans' touch were a solace to Hongjoong's blemished body, freeing him from the invisible confines his lord and his companions have tied him in.
"I- my-" Yunho started, gasping, earnest hands starkly gripping Hongjoong's waist and thwarting him from stealing more breaths. Hongjoong paused momentarily, blistering and searing. "My car- it's parked in the corner of the street. Would you mind continuing-"
Hongjoong had already taken off, followed by a gaiety Yunho who was unbuttoning his blazer with one hand and being led by Hongjoong with the other.
Proficiently, Hongjoong was shoving Yunho against the door, unbuttoning his shirt with nifty fingers and sliding his tongue in the human's mouth at the same time. Yunho gladly accepted the offer, nimble hands seamlessly unfastening the ties of Hongjoong's gown.
In the darkling of night, under the stars, Hongjoong's gown slipped off his shoulder and body.
-
There it was, again, malign and reprehensible hands, Back on Hongjoong's wan and tedious body. He felt nausea from the persnickety smell of smoked cigars. Impoverishing places danced in front of his mind, as he struggled to get away from the poltergeist laugh his mind was induced in.
Hongjoong felt peril objects tugging at the base of his spine, painfully scratching at his skin. He stepped on a spartan floor, feeling bile piling up in his throat.
In the realm of shattered dreams and the sinister recesses of the subconscious, Hongjoong found himself ensnared within a labyrinth of torment.
Darkness draped over him like a suffocating cloak, its weight pressing down upon his trembling form as he traversed the bleak landscape of his nightmare.
Whispers, sinister and sibilant, slithered through the void, echoing off unseen walls with a malevolent resonance. They carried a chilling refrain, a ceaseless chant that clawed at the fringes of his sanity. "Hongjoong," they hissed, each syllable dripping with malice, a relentless barrage that echoed in the depths of his mind.
Hands, cold and clammy, emerged from the shadows, reaching out with grotesque fingers that seemed to stretch impossibly long.
They grasped at him, their touch leaving icy trails upon his skin, branding him with invisible marks that seared with a phantom pain. Each caress felt like a violation, a violation of his very essence as they clawed and clutched, refusing to relent.
With every step he took, the darkness seemed to constrict around him, closing in with a suffocating embrace. The air grew thick with a palpable sense of dread, choking him with its oppressive weight.
Hongjoong stumbled forward, his heart pounding in his chest like a drumbeat of impending doom.
Amidst the cacophony of whispers and the onslaught of phantom hands, he struggled to maintain his grasp on reality. But reality had become a fleeting illusion, a distant memory lost amidst the swirling maelstrom of his tortured psyche.
And still, the voices called out to him, their tone growing more insistent with each passing moment. "Hongjoong," they hummed, their voices rising to a crescendo of despair.
It was as though they sought to claim him, to drag him down into the depths of their twisted domain and consume him whole.
Desperation clawed at his throat, threatening to consume him from within as he fought to break free from the suffocating grip of his nightmare.
But no matter how he struggled, no matter how he pleaded for release, the darkness held him captive in its merciless embrace.
And so he remained, trapped within the confines of his own mind, a prisoner to the whims of his darkest fears. For in the realm of nightmares, there is no escape, no respite from the relentless onslaught of terror that lurks within.
And Hongjoong, with trembling limbs and a shattered spirit, could only endure as the nightmare continued its relentless assault upon his fragile psyche.
Stark hands caught him by his throat, as if thrashing his head down a deep sea, leaving him devoid of breath.
And then...Hongjoong screamed.
-
Hongjoong's comatose body was brought to life as he sat up in the darkness, drenched and moist, palpably panting blaringly. The heave of his visceral organs reached his ears.
Frantically surveying the aphotic room lit in an uncomfortable shade of cerise, Hongjoong analyzed the corners for any upcoming hands.
A soft touch, light and feathery was enough to make Hongjoong jump out of his skin and bolt away from gawking eyes of the unknown.
"Hey, calm down, it's me." Hefty arms swiftly caught Hongjoong, pulling him back on the bed easily. "It's me, Yunho. Seems like you had a nightmare, isn't it?" He anticipated, voice whispery and surreptitious.
Hongjoong swallowed, nodding shortly. "You are right, yeah." However, he couldn't stop the tremor of his hands as he was pulled back in the embrace of the human.
Yunho smelled like caramel, offering a warm, sugary scent reminiscent of caramelized sugar. Albeit sweaty, in lieu of having a sweat-filled aroma, the human smelled fresh, like carnival treats.
Hongjoong doesn't know much about the essence of earth, but the way Yunho smelled, it was addicting and like a chronic disease which may bewitch other humans.
Each human has its own unique smell and Yunho's was... petrichor; The earthy smell that accompanies rainfall after a dry spell.
After a while, when they had parted, Hongjoong fidgeted with sheets, feigning coyness. "I guess this is the part where we say goodbyes?" Yunho coughed softly, a nervous sound that broke the uneasy silence.
Forcing a small smile, Hongjoong speaks up, "seems like it."
Yunho dwindled his thumb. Ugh, why is this so awkward? "I hope I didn't overstep any boundaries?"
"No it's fine, we both knew what we were getting ourselves into." Hongjoong shrugged. Languor enveloped him like a soft blanket, last night was nearly as tiresome as it could be with one of the deadly sins, or to be precise, Wrath. "This is...awkward." Hongjoong looked around the room. Having to pretend for so long, he had definitely mastered this specific skill of acting.
"Yeah it is." Yunho laughed shortly.
"I should probably get going now." Standing up, Hongjoong checks the clock on the wall.
"Right. Take care." Yunho made a tiny wave, chuckling at his actions afterward.
"Oh and-" Hongjoong paused at the calling of his name as he was in the middle of tying his gown. Why did he have to wear a gown on earth? "Do we exchange numbers?" Yunho continued.
Hongjoong's hands faltered, arrested by an unexpected pause, eyebrows knitting in mild wariness.
Hongjoong...he didn't have a phone. His nightstands never really demanded him for a phone number -except for one or two- so Hongjoong never dwelled into the thought.
Uh...how do I pass this?
Adopting an air of nonchalance, Hongjoong masked his expressions with a calm facade, however eyes betraying the turbulent musing swirling beneath the surface. Yunho almost noticed it instantly, hasty to correct himself.
"Wait, no, don't get me wrong. It's fine. I was just hoping for a- oh my god this is awkward." he nervously nibbled on his lips, and Hongjoong noticed a thin line of blood on the plump of his lips.
Hongjoong exhaled anxiously, "It's totally fine. I am not really a keep in touch type of person. I am sorry."
"No, you don't have to say sorry. It was me being stupid." Yunho laughed and Hongjoong just...went along with it.
"So yeah...I think I will be leaving now." Hongjoong was done with his clothes as he peered at Yunho buttoning up his shirt.
"Yeah sure. Thanks for the night."
Hongjoong's lips curved into a gentle smile yet again.
-
Hell wasn't a solace.
In the bustling halls of the workplace, one figure stands apart, not by choice, but by a silent rift that sets him adrift from the camaraderie that flourishes around him. Each day, he navigates through a maze of disagreements and clashes, his heart heavy with the burden of discord.
Despite his efforts to blend in, to play his part in the ensemble of colleagues, he finds himself isolated by an unseen force, an invisible barrier that separates him from the unity of the collective.
Beneath his outward facade of composure lies a simmering discontent, a longing for the warmth of camaraderie that seems forever out of reach.
He watches as arguments flare and tensions rise, unable to suppress the pang of resentment that gnaws at his soul.To acknowledge his disdain would be to admit defeat, to concede that he is powerless to change his circumstances.
And so, he carries on, a solitary figure amidst the throng, his heart heavy with the weight of unspoken emotions. He yearns for a sense of belonging, for a connection that eludes him in this sea of discord.
He doesn't want it, but he may need it in some way.
But until that day comes, he remains a silent observer, a silent soul adrift in a sea of stormy emotions.
Hongjoong exhales deeply, as if doing such a thing would let the worries plaguing his mind to be carried away by the wind through his mouth.
Beside him, there's a rustling on the stoney hill, a silhouette emerging from the dusk and settling beside him. Abreast him, there's a flow of torrid water cascading down. It was basically to torment the unobedient demons, but it somehow always brought Hongjoong easiness.
Hongjoong looks at the body beside him.
Oh
It's one of the sins.
It's sloth.
Hongjoong glances around the dimly lit place, "you are Mingi, right?"
"Yes, that's me. And you are Hongjoong?" Mingi nodded, lazily shifting on the stone.
It was soaring Hongjoong's precious butt but he could live with a print on his skin for some days if it meant that he could relish into the vista of this.
"You got it." Hongjoong grinned sheepishly. "So...what brings you to this delightful corner of hell?"
"Oh...you know? Just enjoying the eternal embrace of sloth. What about you? What sin landed you here?" Mingi chuckled softly, a warm gust of wind caressed his hair.
Oh. so he didn't know Hongjoong's sin?
Hongjoong leaned back with the support of his hand on the rocky stone, getting into the casual demeanor. "Well, you could say that I have a passionate nature. You can call me lust."
Mingi cocked a vivacious eyebrow, "Ah, lust, huh? Can't say I'm not surprised. I mean, look at you." he chortled softly.
Hongjoong was...uh yeah. He didn't stand out as lust to many hell figurines.
"Well yeah..." He blushed slightly, clearing his throat.
"Hey we all have our vices, right? It's what's landed us here, afterall." Mingi nodded sympathetically. He seemed to know a lot about their pasts.
Hongjoong was equivocal momentarily, begrudging. "True. so, what's sloth like? I imagine it's pretty chill?" He wondered.
How did it actually feel to be careless and just enjoy the laziness?
Mingi shrugged pokily, "Eh, it has its moments. But mostly, it's just... well, slothful. Not much excitement to be had."
"I can imagine, must get pretty dull after that." Hongjoong nodded, a wave of understanding washed over him.
The other sin yawned, vehemently blinking his eyes open. "Yeah, you could say that. But hey, at least it's peaceful. No drama, no chaos. When I see the bed, I get happy."
"I suppose that's something to be thankful for. Hell can be a pretty hectic place." Hongjoong looked around, noticing rocks parched on top of each other and tiny pieces of pebbles falling from the hill.
"Definitely." Mingi nodded in agreement, "so, Hongjoong... Do you ever miss the world down there? The mortal realm?"
Hongjoong chewed on his lips, thinking.
"I never really got to know what my life in the mortal realm was. Even if I get the chance to see, it wouldn't make so much difference. I am here for eternity, afterall." He gazed into the distance with a relaxed expression, his eyes unfocused yet undisturbed, as if lost in placid thoughts.
Mingi crossed one leg over the other, his posture relaxed and comfortable, exuding an air of ease. "Mine's no different, however, the lord did give me a chance to see my life back in the real world."
Hongjoong looked up, eyes a little blown as Mingi chuckled.
"I denied." He looked down at his laps, twisting the fabric of his satin pants. "He was livid as he thought that I might not be appreciating his favors, but then again, I am not Pride." Mingi took deep, calming breaths, his chest rising and falling rhythmically, as if effortlessly maintaining his composure.
"I am not trying to be rude or something but...why'd he give you the opportunity out of all of us?" Hongjoong winced at the choice of his wordings, but at least his tone was meek. He was just perplexed, not much.
Mingi didn't seem to mind, maintaining his poised appearance. "I don't know." He mumbled, as if talking to himself. "Maybe it was because I didn't really want to see the cruel situation I would have been in." There was more left to say, Hongjoong could guess, but he didn't want to force someone he'd just talked to.
It has always been like this.
In their shared reality, fear lingered like a persistent fog, enveloping them in its cold embrace. It was a presence that colored every aspect of their lives, casting a shadow over their every move.
The mere thought of stumbling, of tasting the bitter sting of defeat, sent shivers down their spines, but for Hongjoong, it was a sensation he knew all too well.
For him, fear was not just a passing feeling; it was a constant companion, a weight that he carried with him wherever he went.
The prospect of falling, of witnessing the crimson flow of blood from his wounds, struck a deep chord of terror within him. It was a fear that gnawed at his insides, threatening to consume him whole.
Yet, amidst the ever-present fear that threatened to overwhelm him, Hongjoong clung to his convictions with a fierce determination. Though his heart may have raced with apprehension and his hands trembled with uncertainty, he stood firm upon the bedrock of his beliefs.
It was this unwavering resolve, this steadfast refusal to yield, that propelled him forward in the face of adversity.
In the tumultuous landscape of their existence, Hongjoong was a warrior, battling against the tide of uncertainty with unwavering courage.
Despite the chaos and heated arguments that seemed to engulf them at every turn, he refused to be swayed from his path. With each clash of wills, each exchange of words, he fought not only for himself but for the very essence of his being.
Fear may have been his constant companion, but Hongjoong refused to let it define him. Instead, he confronted it head-on, refusing to be cowed by its presence. For in the depths of his soul, he knew that true strength lay not in the absence of fear, but in the willingness to face it, to stand tall in its shadow, and to emerge victorious against all odds.
Hongjoong flinched mildly, realizing Mingi's presence as he abided in his thoughts.
A dry cough escaped his lips, punctuating the stillness of the moment with its abruptness.
"I do sometimes wonder what it was like. Before we ended up here." Mingi seemed to mind the silence, his voice cutting through the air, carrying an unfamiliar coziness with it.
Hongjoong nodded, not having much to say, "me too. Have always thought about it."
Mingi raised a lazy eyebrow, "hmm, it's natural to wonder, I suppose. But Honestly, I never really went deep into it. It's all just a blur."
Hongjoong could relate with that, he had had dreams of it. "Same here. It's all just like a dream, sometimes I do catch glimpses of memories, but they are fleeting , like trying to hold onto smoke."
Mingi leaned back, looking thoughtful. "I may have declined the offer from the lord, but I do wonder what my life was back then. What my dreams were, and what my job was. What my family did, and you know, just all the random things that must have gone on in my life."
"Well if you were anything like you are now, I'd say you were a master at procrastination." Hongjoong chortled, quick to light up the mood.
"Hey, can't argue with that. But seriously, it's strange, isn't it? Not remembering where you came from, and all that." Mingi laughed, yawning in the middle.
"Yeah it is. When I wander in the human realm, I do think that what if I cross paths with someone from my past? What if they noticed me but I don't really remember? And maybe, even once, just maybe I like to think that I do have crossed ways with someone I knew when I was human."
"It's crazy to think, really. To be honest, if someone comes and tells me that they know me, I would believe them." Mingi said, words rolling off his tongue like drowsy leaves falling on the water.
"Or maybe you would be just a little too lazy to argue." Hongjoong smirked in amusement. He'd never thought he would be passing jokes with someone he'd just met.
"You can say that, but I would really believe them." Mingi stayed unnerving, quietly smiling at the words he was sharing with the other sin.
"Hey, Hongjoong." Hongjoong hummed at the call of his name. "If you ever gain your memories, try to think more and find if I was ever there with you."
This had Hongjoong looking up, a bizarre pang rumbling in his chest.
"It's kind of unrealistic for you to say that since you didn't want to remember your past." Hongjoong gestured empathetically with his hands, highlighting each syllable as an undertone.
"Huh, I never thought about it that way. I guess you're right, though. It does sound a bit unrealistic now that you mention it." Mingi vaguely yawned, yet again, stretching his mouth as much as he could.
"No, it's not like that, of course you can think whatever you want." Hongjoong scratched the back of his neck. "Same goes for you, though."
Mingi hummed, questioning.
"I mean if you ever remember your past, try to do the same." Hongjoong said. The connection with Mingi felt oddly familiar, like two leaves from the same branch that had never brushed against each other until now. Yet, as they finally met, there was a sense of comfort in their newfound companionship.
It was nice with Mingi, having to talk to someone in this...interesting place.
There was a pause, Hongjoong's expressions stiffening. "You know, Mingi, I wonder if the hell lord is listening to us right now."
Mingi seemed like he would laugh, but at Hongjoong's tone, he glanced around cautiously. Did he sound too stupid? "Yeah it's a scary thought. But what can we even do? We are at his mercy after all."
Hongjoong nodded meekly, "true. He is a cruel one, that's for sure, makes you ponder on the thought of what type of person he was because he ended up here."
Mingi shrugged, scarcely aghast. "Who knows? Maybe he was just like us before the power got to his head."
"Maybe. But regardless, we have to be careful right? We wouldn't want to get on his bad side like Envy." Hongjoong sighed, testing the bitter air on his tongue.
"No, yes, but what's the matter with Envy? I heard greed mumbling about it, but couldn't ask him. Let's just say our relationship has not always been that good." Mingi's innocuous fingers crumpled a parched leaf, crushing it under his skin. Perhaps it was the thought of his encounter with the deadly sin he mentioned.
Hongjoong heedfully mused about what had happened, collecting the remnants of the spiteful words with his brain.
Skeptical, he exhaled sharply. Though it was not his information to pass over, Hongjoong couldn't help his tongue before each word was sliding down. "He... he fell for a human, and it didn't end well when lord got to know it. It's not my place to tell, so I can't continue, I hope you can forgive me for that."
"Of course, it's okay if you can't exactly tell. I was just puzzled as to why everyone was suddenly talking about envy. His topics are rare, you know." Mingi waved a tender hand, entailing no grudges.
Hongjoong lightly frowned at the reminder of what words have been exchanged within Envy and him. "It's...complicated. Envy and lust were never really a match, you know."
Mingi's eyes softened, a sudden gush of understanding pouring down on him.
"I understand." Mingi said, softly nodding his head. "After I ended up here, Greed and I always glared silently at each other, particularly, him, but I couldn't help but glare back at him."
Hongjoong gently raised a brow.
"Oh, you see, since I was offered to look back at my memory, Greed also asked the lord to see the side of his past, but he was denied. He thought his perversity would make me crumble. But as cool as I am, always, I don't care what he thinks." He continued diligently, now and then brushing a languorous hand through his black strands.
"Greed and you, huh? Avaron is truly one of a kind, I mean why would anybody want to fight you." Hongjoong glanced at Mingi, ephemeral but sincere.
"He had his own choices, he didn't like the type of privilege I was given."
"Perhaps, yeah."
Their conversation delves into deeper topics, spanning their thoughts on existence, their perceptions of hell, and even their hopes for the future. Mingi shares anecdotes of slothful exploits, while Hongjoong recounts tales of lustful escapades. As they talk, they realize that despite their differences, they share a common bond forged by their shared experience in hell. And as the night wears on, their conversation continues, each exchange bringing them closer together, forging a connection that transcends their sinful nature.