honeysuckle_cookie
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It had been two years since the sun finally offered the beings on Earth a break from it's powerful rays.
Society has continued to pull itself back together piece by agonizing piece, Visitors die off one by one, the population begins to rise once more after the devastating blow. The reporters on television claim this to be a revolution, proof of human resilience. They promise that the sun will never heat up again, that they won't rest until the planet is completely Visitor free. It's a time for hope. It's a time for cheer.
Yesenin found it moronic.
He returned to modern life, to his ways at the bar. He returned to endless hours at a desk and a continuously empty home. Life couldn't get any worse, quite frankly.
On a night he felt particularly bitter, however, he managed to strike up conversation with a man that felt similarly about the state of the world. His interest remained piqued as they conversed. But he failed to realize just what he was getting into until it was far too late.
Life could, surprisingly, get worse.
Bookmarked by honeysuckle_cookie
10 Jan 2026
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A man looks up from the couch. He is… long. Evgeny doesn't know how else to describe him. Lanky and tall, the man sitting on the sofa resembles a dropped pile of kindling, all sharp angles and limbs akimbo. Despite the room's occupancy, the air is somehow warmer inside, and the space is bigger than the others he's seen so far.
Shuddering in the doorway, Evgeny tucks his chin deeper into his collar. He glances at the vacant couch.
“M-may I?” He asks through chattering teeth.
The man looks him up and down, expression blank. Vaguely unimpressed.
“Whatever,” he says, “it's not my house.”
Bookmarked by honeysuckle_cookie
09 Jan 2026
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Alastor after the finale is totally super free, but he's still holding onto a little something
Long story short, it worked
Bookmarked by honeysuckle_cookie
08 Jan 2026
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The Vees have a much needed talk days after the finale regarding Vox's ... well, everything.
Bookmarked by honeysuckle_cookie
08 Jan 2026
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Vox's mind worked in curious ways. He hardly understood it himself; the cleaning, the counting, the disorienting thoughts that'd wordlessly drag him into a prison of his own making -- invisible bars frozen around turquoise fingers. Some days, it felt overwhelming, but like any good actor, he strived to always exhibit an aura of control, plastic teeth blinding behind a glass screen. Perfection was achievable if only he tried. 𝙅𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙠𝙚𝙚𝙥 𝙩𝙧𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜.
...
But he was tired...
So, so tired.
--- TRIGGER WARNING: This fic deals with themes of OCD, please stay safe. ---
Bookmarked by honeysuckle_cookie
07 Jan 2026