Chapter 1: Europe! Let’s Come Together (again)!
Chapter Text
Life had always been slightly different for Duncan.
Throughout his youth, he had been known as the perceptive one, detail oriented, and finding weird things in what seemed to be normal. Everyone praised him for his keen eye, but it had always come with a drawback: sometimes, people would be so sure that something wasn't there that they would gaslight him.
It had started with little things, strange glimmers and shadows that didn't match up with the world around him. That at least felt like it had plausible deniability, but his perception only seemed to grow along with him. As a teenager, he saw strange figures no one else did. Humans with strange, patterned tattoos across their bodies that only he could see. Sometimes they looked mostly normal, other times they looked monstrous. No one believed him. After deciding that shutting up was better than a psyche evaluation, Duncan just decided to limit telling people what he saw. Instead of a crazy kid, people suddenly started seeing a man with a solid gut instinct.
His rules were simple: the people with the patterned tattoos were usually bad people. Avoid at all costs.
That all changed in 2019, when he was approached by Russia's contestant.
Sergey Lazarev was intimidating and clearly abnormal, with a huge pair of black wings sprouting from his back and an equally impressive halo to match. The aura he gave off was fierce, protective and crackling with electricity.
That was how Duncan learned that his sight wasn't just delusions or a vivid gut instinct: his sight was supernatural. He was meant to be able to see what humans typically couldn't.
Duncan and Sergey's meeting was the beginning of what was called the International Demon Hunting Squad (neither of them had any creative ideas), and they gathered a few more members as time progressed, each of whom Sergey had met before.
There was Jamala with her powerful voice, a quick conversation revealing that she had seen gold during her own Eurovision performance. There was Dami Im, a vigilante demon hunter with demon hunter connections in South Korea, and Mahmood, who had previously dedicated his singing career to strengthening the Italian Honmoon.
Each of them were contacted by Duncan and Sergey, recruited into their elite squad to help keep the Honmoons in each European country strong between each Eurovision Song Contest.
For Duncan, this was the purpose he felt he needed. Arcade’s massive success as a song outside of Eurovision had helped immensely with the Dutch Honmoon, and spending his free time tracking down and slicing up demons with his friends was quite fun, despite it also being fairly exhausting and time-consuming.
As a result, Duncan didn't feel guilty at all for relaxing with the group inside of his spacious apartment, although he was a bit bored.
“So, boss.” Dami asked, “Any idea on what we're doing next?” Her tone was light-hearted, calling Duncan the boss was never something she did seriously. She was sprawled across the couch upside down, hair brushing against the carpet.
“Beats me.” Duncan barely looked up from his phone, too invested in scrolling through various news articles he found to actually face her. Stuff about the new Pope. Reports on higher than average Rabies cases in Georgia. The new worldwide hit song “Golden” by Huntr/x, the K-pop girl group that Dami was supposedly in cahoots with. It was the usual stuff on the news and one of the few times where the group could really relax.
Jamala strolled out from the kitchen, mug of tea in hand. “Considering we haven't gotten any leads as of yet, we might be waiting for a while.” She plopped herself down in a nearby chair. “I assume Mahmood is out checking on the status of the different Honmoons?”
Duncan’s gaze flickered over to her briefly before settling back on the article. “He's been out for quite a while, maybe he decided to run some errands?” He quickly checked his texts: nothing new from Mahmood. He wasn't worried, though. He knew the guy could take care of himself. They had all fought demons alone before and survived.
The three settled into a comfortable silence, occasionally punctuated by Jamala sipping her tea or Dami shifting her position on the couch.
Knock knock knock
The front door immediately opened, Sergey stepping into the apartment. Despite Duncan telling him repeatedly that he didn't need to knock, he never broke the habit of letting them know he was there right before entering.
The drangúe’s wings were tucked tightly behind him, tips dragging along the ground as he walked inside. “Got a tip.” He said, but the tone in his voice was far from his usual warm, comforting tone. Sergey sounded genuinely upset.
Duncan quickly put his phone away, eyes now locked on Sergey. Jamala had stopped with the mug of tea still at her lips. Dami almost slid off the couch before pushing herself back upright.
“Good news and bad news.” Sergey continued, “the good news is that we'll be busy for a while. The bad news is that I've gotten word that there’s been demonic infiltration at this year's Eurovision Song Contest.”
The three hunters shared glances at each other. Duncan wasn't sure what to think, but it had to be really bad if Sergey was delivering this information like someone had died. The purpose of the contest was to strengthen Honmoons across Europe, and demons were deciding to squeeze themselves into it?
After a moment, a pit of nervousness formed in his stomach. After last year's incident, the Dutch Honmoon wasn't at its best. Although he and the others weren't able to confirm it, he was sure the camerawoman involved in that incident was a demon trying to wreak havoc.
He sighed, trying to gather his thoughts. Dami had told them about how demons had tried to infiltrate the South Korean music scene already. That plan had almost succeeded in overrunning the country, but that was just one country, and a small one at that. Eurovision stretched across all of Europe, into the Caucasus, to Australia, and even to countries that didn’t participate but were extremely invested, like China. The contest had been founded on similar pillars to the various groups of singing demon hunters that had graced South Korea’s music scene, but in a far more international way. It was meant to be an event that strengthened many Honmoons at once, rather than just one.
The pain in Sergey’s eyes only amplified the seriousness of the situation to Duncan and the others. After all, Sergey knew first-hand that Eurovision had a massive effect on a country’s Honmoon and being unable to participate could result in disaster.
The door to the apartment opened again, this time without anyone knocking first. Mahmood finally staggered in, uninjured but clearly exhausted. His Khopesh was still held tightly in his grip and he was covered almost head to toe in a strange black tar-like substance with a faint sheen to it.
Duncan’s jaw dropped and he rushed over to check up on his friend. “Holy shit, what happened?” He asked.
Mahmood groaned. “Ugh. Got jumped on my way back. Those ones were gross. I’ve never seen them bleed before.” He tried to wipe some of the black stuff off his face, only to smear it around more. “Anyways, they exploded all over me the moment I cut into them.”
He looked around the room. Dami and Jamala were staring at him like he had grown a second head, but Sergey seemed relatively unphased as always. He had likely slain demons like these before and just never brought it up. He shook his head, shuffling off. “I’m going to clean up. See you whenever this is done.”
The door slammed shut behind Mahmood before anyone could ask him to stay a little longer. Sergey shook his head. “Let him clean up. If the ichor dries, it’ll be a bitch to clean off. He should be fine if he takes a hot shower. I can explain what’s going on again when he gets out.”
Duncan nodded, eyes scanning the room again. Jamala drained the last of her mug of tea and stood up, stretching out before heading over to set the mug on the countertop. “So you’re saying we have to go to Basel?” She asked Sergey, turning on her heel to face him. “When I really think about it, it’s surprising that we haven’t had to visit a contest yet.”
“There's a good reason for that.” Sergey replied. “Showing up to monitor for threats every year could risk blowing our cover. The last thing we need are people becoming aware of the demonic threat. But because the threat this year seems to be credible, I will recommend that we go.”
From there, it quickly devolved into the group trying to coordinate travel plans and shove important deadlines around. Mahmood was quickly updated on the situation upon exiting the bathroom and joined in as well.
“How did you figure this one out?” Mahmood eventually asked Sergey. “I know you tend to get leads either from your own research or from other drangúe, but this just feels different.”
Sergey showed his phone to him. “You’d be surprised how much the weather forecast can tell you.” He said. “I monitor weather patterns regularly and look for sudden pop-up storms. I track their paths and how frequent they are.”
Duncan scooted over to get a better look. “Demons bring bad weather? Why didn’t you tell us?”
But Sergey shook his head. “Not all demons. Certain demons are strong enough to cause weather disturbances. They’re not as common, as ones like these tend to be ones that drangúe such as myself are especially good at fighting. There have been very consistent pop-up storms in Basel for the last day or two, and contestants arrived in the city around that same time frame. Patterns like that typically mean certain types of demons have arrived in the area.
“So,” Jamala chimed in, “this means that the demon— or demons — arrived recently, likely with the contestants?”
Sergey nodded.
“So, then. The contestants….” Her voice trailed off, face going pale in realization.
Thankfully, Dami was able to say what she was afraid to. “One of them.” She said confidently. “It has to be one of them.”
“Not like a member of the delegation team?” Duncan asked. Dami nodded.
“I’m sure of it. If they’re going to send in a powerful demon, they’ll want him to do maximum damage. What better way than to infiltrate the contest as one of the performers?”
Duncan's eyes swept around the room. Everyone seemed captivated by Dami’s explanation. It made perfect sense after all. She was the one who had the most history as a hunter, at least out of all of them who were human.
Gaze finally falling on Sergey, Duncan couldn't help but notice just how upset the drangúe looked. His wings had fluffed up and his eyes were narrow, hand gripping the edge of the countertop so hard that it looked like it might crack under his fingers.
After a moment, he spoke. “You're right.” Sergey's tone had darkened significantly, lowering almost to a growl. He muttered something to himself in Russian before taking a deep breath.
“We need to plan. And we need to plan well.”
Chapter 2: Shh....
Summary:
POV from a slightly different side of things....
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
There's nothing more filling than a belly of human souls.
The purer and nicer the soul, the better the flavor, like fatty, buttery wagyu steak that melts in one's mouth. Meanwhile, the meaner souls are tough and barely edible. The older the soul, the more flavorful it was due to one's life experience. Younger souls, while less flavorful tend to be more tender and juicy. Either way, food is food- and more food means more power.
Power for Mother, specifically.
“Mother, I've returned with more souls. May they nourish you, and give you all the power you need for your marvelous plan.” The tall man offered, his eyes meeting Mother's.
“Good, good. You've done quite well indeed, my son. The feasting has been quite delightful, and the clouds grow heavy with rain.” Mother replied, tongue grazing the tips of her white sharpened canines before wiping her blood red lips with a napkin.
“Now tell me, how are preparations going?”
“The human crew is none the wiser. They go about fussing over stage set up, and costumes, while most of the underlings have managed to evade suspicion and aid in the harvesting of human souls. The best being saved for you of course, Mother dearest.” The man reported.
Mother stood up and made her way towards the balcony of their current human abode. She could perfectly survey all of Basel from here, like a regal queen of old looking over her vast kingdom: a kingdom that would be all hers in a matter of weeks. From her scenic view, she could see the ornate towers of the Basler Münster Cathedral surrounded by a seemingly endless expanse of white townhouses, rusty red roofs standing out against their white backdrop. The Rhine river reflected the last of the golden sunset, signifying the end to the day.
And the end of a day meant the beginning of another. The cycle would continue on as it always had.
If everything went to plan, however, that cycle might not last much longer.
“My perfect storm is brewing.” Mother purred, clasping her hands together.
And then she paused, turning towards the tall man with a flourish of vibrantly-colored skirts and sleeves. “Oh, and one more thing-”
“Yes, mother?”
“DON'T. Call. Me. Mother.” She hissed. Her dark eyes narrowed as she glared at him, pupils turning into vertical slits.
The man felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, like the calm before a dry lightning strike.
“Remember your role, dear. If you're done, leave me be. A performer needs her rest.”
“Of course.”
Notes:
I know this chapter is short, but u0 and I have planned on every other chapter being slightly shorter, however it gives a little insight into who our intrepid demon hunters might be up against.
Chapter Text
The past few days had been a blur for the team. Last minute accommodations were expensive, and plane tickets even more so. But now, Duncan and the others had made it to their flight on time and were well on their way to Basel.
Sergey wasn’t with them at the moment. He had to return to Russia for some career-related thing he couldn’t put off. That happened more often than Duncan wished. Despite the others referring to him as the leader of the group, Duncan knew full well that Sergey fit that role more than anyone else. He was the reason everyone was working together, and the reason why Duncan wasn’t just bumbling around aimlessly with magical sight he didn’t understand.
Even if it sometimes felt like Sergey was being a bit of a control freak, Duncan always chalked it up to him being worried for their safety. After all, the myths seemed to state that drangúe were invincible. Although all of them knew better than to trust the old stories, they were still a great guideline for what to expect of any supernatural being, demon or otherwise.
And humans, unlike drangúe, weren’t invincible. They were squishy and weak, especially if you punched them in the right place. Duncan had been lectured time and time again by Sergey: one wrong sucker punch and you’re a dead man.
Duncan adjusted his hoodie, better hiding his face from anyone who might recognize him, and leaned over in his seat to see what Dami was doing. Her tray table was out and she had a big, thick book open on it that he had never seen before. It was almost comically large.
“Geez, what is that, Demon Hunting 101: The Textbook?” He asked teasingly. She had always been book-smart, serving as the brains of the group. Her hunter connections only further proved that case.
Dami punched him lightly in the arm. “Oh, hush.” She sighed. “Although in a way, I suppose it is. It’s a book about the lore of demons in different cultures. From what I gather, the demons we fight against differ depending on their country of origin and whichever big boss they happen to serve, whether it be Gwi-Mah or something else.”
Duncan hummed thoughtfully, pulling down his own tray table so he could lean his elbows on it and get a better look at her book.
Dami continued, showing him the front cover: Encyclopedia of Demonology: Myths and Legends . “It’s actually so comprehensive, you know? It took me so long to find a book like this, and I can tell it’s legit because of the stories and sources.”
“What do you mean there are sources on demonology?” Duncan asked. “Most of the world doesn’t even know they exist!”
“Doesn’t know they exist anymore , you mean.” Dami corrected. “They were more common knowledge back in the day, and those are the records they pull from here. I figured that if Sergey says we’re tracking demons by storms, we can probably narrow down what exactly we’re after.”
Duncan sighed. “I guess you have me there. You’re the intelligent one here anyways.”
She beamed at him, flipping to the back of the book to check on what looked to be a very comprehensive appendix sorting everything out for her. Her finger ran down the columns of names as she searched for what she needed.
But sadly, she never got there. The pilot announced their final descent into Basel at that moment, and she was forced to put the giant tome away before the flight attendants could come by and tell her to.
“Ugh, you gotta be kidding me.” She mumbled, pushing up her tray table. “Right as I was getting to the S section!”
Duncan chuckled a bit, but quickly stopped when he was met with a glare. He quickly turned back to face forward and put up his own tray table as they began their final descent.
~~~~~~~~~~
“How was the flight?”
Duncan whirled around only to see Jamala there, Mahmood behind her. They were standing not too far away from the gate they exited the aircraft from, waiting to make sure everyone had reunited before heading to baggage claim.
“It was good. Smooth enough, I suppose.” He replied, eyes drifting away from his teammates and toward the ladies’ restroom. He watched as Dami exited, waving at the group as she trotted over to join them.
“When is Sergey coming up?” Jamala asked, giving Dami a quick hug before they all started off towards the baggage claim.
Mahmood checked his phone. “He said ‘ASAP’ last time I asked, but that was this morning. Knowing his cramped schedule, it could be in two hours or two weeks. Wasn’t he filming something?”
Duncan shook his head. “I don’t think so. They were filming something literally a few weeks ago. Remember when he showed us that Masked Singer thing he was in?”
“Wait, you mean the one that had the demon hunter lady in there?” Dami asked. “You know, the one who decided to move to Russia to try and help with the Honmoon?”
“Yes, I mean that one. We all watched its premiere, remember?” Duncan reminded her. “And I’d think that the whole thing with his mom showing up at the end was more memorable than one of the other people there being another demon hunter, but you do you.”
As they waited for their baggage to show up at the carousel, Duncan pulled out his phone and sent a quick text over to Sergey, just in case.
Hey, do you have an ETA on when you’ll be back? We just got to Basel.
Much to his surprise, the message was marked read almost immediately, and those three bouncing dots showed up on the bottom of the screen.
Production wrapped up. I’m having a quick lunch with some of the others. I will try to be there by tonight. How are hotel rooms set up again?
Duncan sighed with relief. Sergey wasn’t one to change his arrival times.
Jamala and Dami agreed they wanted to share a room. Mahmood wanted a place for himself.
The next reply was instant.
Can I stay with you?
It was a response Duncan got over and over. It was always “can I stay in your apartment”, “can I stay in your hotel room”, “can I stay in the car with you while Jamala runs into the store to pick up groceries”.
It should’ve been exhausting by now, but instead Duncan felt the same tug in his chest and warmth in his face that he did whenever he got that question thrown at him. He wasn’t sure whether to love or hate it. He should’ve begged for privacy, asked Sergey to find his own room— he had so much money he could easily do it anyway— but every time this happened, Duncan always caved without so much as a fight.
Perhaps he just didn’t want to be alone at night. Or maybe he craved the protection of a drangúe. Not everyone had a lightning-wielding angel-like being at their beck and call, after all.
Yeah sure. I’ll tell you my room number when I check in.
Duncan sent the text without even thinking, typing like his thumbs were on autopilot.
Putting his phone away, he looked back up at the rest of the group. “Sergey says he’ll be with us by tonight. He’ll be staying in my room again.”
Jamala nodded. “For someone who makes way more than the rest of us, he sure likes to be thrifty.” She approached the baggage carousel as soon as they arrived, finding that their flight’s baggage was already sliding out down the conveyor to where people would pick up their bags. She scooped up her duffle bag and motioned towards the group to call them over.
Thankfully, none of them had to wait very long for their things and were soon on their way out of the airport. The hotel was only a short walk away, so they would be able to make the trek easily.
Once the group was checked in and had acquired their keycards, Duncan made his way towards the elevator, wanting to have some time to himself.
“If you need me, I’ll be in the pool!” Mahmood called out. “Catch you guys later!” He headed off towards his room, which seemed to be on a different floor from the others, presumably to unpack and change into a swimsuit.
Nobody verbally responded, the others were too tired for anything more than an affirmative grunt and a nod as they filed into the elevator.
None of them spoke a word as they headed up to the sixth floor, and Duncan made a beeline for his room, not bothering to even wave to the ladies as they walked off in the other direction.
The room was simple: A single king-sized bed in the middle, a desk and TV on the opposite side, a coffee maker by the door and an attached bathroom. Duncan dropped his suitcase on the floor and collapsed face-first onto the bed, letting out a huge sigh as he did so.
He lay there for a while before finally remembering to text Sergey his hotel room number and then opening the window for some extra airflow. Much to his surprise, it wasn’t one of those safety windows but rather one of those windows you’d see in an apartment that opened either vertically or horizontally depending on how you twisted the handle. It didn’t necessarily seem very safe to Duncan, but he didn’t mind. He had jumped from higher places before, his demon hunter training allowing him to land unharmed although he still didn’t understand how the technique worked.
He went back to flopping across the bed, letting himself sink into the mattress.
~~~~~~~
“Hey.”
Duncan jolted upright, feeling like he was falling. He had almost fallen asleep!
And then he checked the clock: 0:15.
A huge, winged shadow sat in the open window, barely able to fit in the space. It seemed that not only had Duncan been able to sleep, but he hadn’t even realized it. It had only been close to 19:00 when he had last checked the clock, so he had been sleeping for several hours before Sergey’s arrival woke him up.
“Come in.” He grunted, watching the drangúe slip into the room with astounding grace only befitting a performer such as Sergey.
“Sorry for waking you.” Sergey apologized, features more visible now that he was actually in the room. Duncan had forgotten to shut off the lamp on the bedside table before he took his little nap.
He shook his head. “No, it’s fine. I should’ve stayed up for you.” He scooted up the bed until he was sitting back against the headboard. “I thought you were going to knock.”
Sergey shut the window behind him, muffling a particularly loud rumble of thunder. “Flying’s faster, and a storm’s gonna break out any minute now. I didn’t want to get drenched. You know how I hate it when my wings get wet.”
Duncan laughed, the sound dry given he had just woken up and hadn’t gotten the sleepiness out of his voice. “I won’t complain. At least you shut my window for me.” He looked out, watching the Basel skyline as the dark sky flashed with lightning. “Oh, that’s nasty.” He muttered.
The sound of rain began to reach their ears, an almost immediate downpour. “That’s a demon-induced storm for you.” Sergey commented, sitting down on the side of the bed. “Aggressive and frequent, although the rain might not be as bad when they know what they’re doing.”
“So, you’re saying this demon is reckless?” Duncan asked.
“No, just that you can tell a lot about the culprit by watching the storm. If there are multiple demons of the same or similar type, however, that could raise some issues. Their abilities overlap and make it confusing to pick out what they’re like.”
Tha-thump
Duncan winced like he had been struck, and Sergey gasped in pain, clutching at his chest. Though Duncan knew the feeling and sound very well, the sight only confirmed it: a flash of red rippling across an otherwise blue honmoon.
“Damn it.” Sergey hissed, hand still over his heart. “I was hoping to not have to go out in the rain.”
Now focusing on the honmoon properly, Duncan could see a tear not too far off. It was likely that demons were there, and they would need to be dealt with immediately.
Both men got off the bed and stood up, Sergey immediately moving to open the window again. They didn’t need to talk or ask questions. The tear in the honmoon spoke for itself: It was time to go on the hunt.
Notes:
This was going to end up like twice as long but u0 and I decided to chop it in half. It's longer than intended as it is. The rest will be showing up in Chapter 5 as we have to make room for the demons' chapter.
kenzx3 on Chapter 1 Sun 17 Aug 2025 11:38PM UTC
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