#eversusregnum

  Witches or any form of magically human-like being alone confused him. They did so many things that still till this day never made a lick of sense to the familiar. Not once. Self-harm, or hunting down creatures to use for an ingredient of some kind. Hell, they came in all types from the twistedly evil to nature-loving types. He had only one witch in his life that made some sense to him or it was the fact she explained things to him. As to why most things needed to be done. 

  Eyes moved down to look at the other’s now wounded hand. Was he even able to heal? Most would have healed their wounds about now just to be able to deal with their work. “Was that really necessary? Did you not have any substitute laying around?” 

The Lily of the Valley. Likely the last place you’d ever see Abaddon willingly arrive at, yet, Gethen had planted a seed of curiosity with vague statements and promise of amusement.

This was strange, albeit her form was masked behind a veil of mortality, wounds and scars hidden from sight..she still felt as if she was being watched..by everyone. Perhaps visiting this place wasn’t exactly a wise decision, Gethen would be given recompense for sending her here the moment she returned. There was some hesitation to begin with..yet he assured her something of interest dwelled within this..establishment.

“Sorry. I just needed a moment.” He uttered before letting her go and moving to step around her. Seeing her face, he smiled lightly, holding hands up. “No more without asking first.” The man uttered, standing upright as he pulled his eyepatch off to then ruffle his messed up hair. “Any fun jobs recently?”

Her arms around him, hands gently running over his abdomen as she held him close to her. It took a few moments before she let go of him. Coming around before him, she wrapped her arms around him once more as her bright gaze looked up at the man. “I love you so much.” She hummed, kissing at his chest gently.

Things had been quiet, calm days filled with nothing more than his family and his job, every moment like a dream for him. His children were growing, his wife was safe and happy, and he himself had something that he once thought impossible..

   ..yet one thing he would be reminded of soon enough, was that when working for Death, things were never truly quiet. Your enemies were simply patient.

Day by day they’d watch from afar as the Hand of Death’s guard was lowered again and again, seeing him become accustomed to a calm and simple life outside of his duties..and waiting for the moment to show him the truth. Now, that moment had arrived. He had just left to preform his tasks for Death, and his family was alone..and vulnerable. 

Not all of Death’s enemies were mindless beasts or creatures of ‘evil’, something that could be fought on sight without worry or restraint. Some were beings far more deceptive, relying on their holy light blinding the world from their sins and corruption. Angels seeking petty revenge for their fallen brethren, to make one of Death’s own feel the pain of loss. 

A lengthy battle

              A complex orchestration against a legion of beasts

   Each of the Reapers pulled for this task working in tandem without a single mistake, long trained gears in a well oiled machine. Yet, even with such a well executed mission..

                                 ..those involved couldn’t help but be exhausted.

    Quietly, one of said Reapers would finally return home for a bit of rest, a certain Frenchman taking extra care not to wake those that might be still be sleeping.

           "...ωєℓℓ..тнαт ωαѕ αℓℓ тєяяιвℓє.."

A hushed whisper would be given out as the Hand of Death settled down and worked his way back into the comfort of relaxation, taking a moment for the stress in him to fade away. He needed some tea.

    Slowly he would attempt to get everything needed, kettle being placed upon the stove and mugs being set aside with extra care as to avoid clinking them together. "...ησω..тσ ѕιмρℓу ωαιт α ℓιттℓє.."

@eversusregnum

Send 🍆  for my muse’s reaction to being sent a very intentional nude

Calmly, as if nothing could ever possibly appear upon his phone that could shake his demeanor, the Hand of Death would casually open the message received from his Wife in the open streets, body of a fallen beast laying still nearby. 

Yet, as if a brick through a glass window, the contents of said message shattered his resolve with little effort...quickly closing the device and being certain none of his fellow Reaper’s that were deployed on the same mission were nearby.

"ωєℓℓ тнαт ιѕ ¢єятαιηℓу σηє ωαу тσ ѕωαу му тнσυgнтѕ αωαу ƒяσм тнє мιѕѕιση αт нαη∂...αη∂ ¢σηνιη¢є мє тσ яєтυяη нσмє α вιт єαяℓу тнιѕ ∂αу. ι'м ¢єятαιη тнєу ¢αη нαη∂ℓє тнιѕ.." Somewhat shamed muttering would be said under hushed breath, bringing out the phone once more to look over that particular message for a moment longer, eyes wandering over every beloved curve of his beloved’s bare form..before swiftly heading his way towards home.

              Being undead, a Reaper was all but immune to hunger and the like..