#'What? Look that plans a no go. I still want to see Kyrie sing...'

[of-pale]

Dante: “It's a good day to die as any.”

Nero: “I dunno, always hoped to die on a Saturday.”

Dante: “Oh? Why's that?”

Nero: “To skip Sunday mass. Obviously.”

[much-obliged-timothy]

Febuwhump #14

Devil May Cry - #14 - Can’t Go Home

*

Vergil had no place to stay.

Dante had refused to let Vergil stay with him, waving him away with orders to go stay with Nero. Vergil had no desire to do that, but he hadn’t exactly had much choice.

So he’d reluctantly left Dante’s and gone to Nero’s place. He’d tried the whole time not to think about the last time he’d been at Nero’s place, and Nero’s cry of pain as he held the stump of his arm as blood gushed from it.

No, not off to a great start.

Still, Vergil only needed a place to stay for a day or two while he made a plan. He could endure Kyrie’s glares and Nero’s irritated sass for that long.

And then he’d arrived at their home.

He’d only peeked in the windows to see if anyone was home. The lights had been dimmed, but not off, making him wonder if they were out or already asleep. It was fairly late, but Nero kept weird hours working with Devil May Cry. It was possible Kyrie left lights dimmed so he didn’t return to a dark house.

What he’d seen had surprised him.

Nero, who had transformed and managed to defeat someone as powerful as Vergil. Nero, who fought Urizen until he could barely move his beaten, bloodied body. Nero, who cursed as hard as he fought.

Dancing in the living room with Kyrie held close.

He’d seemed reluctant, but Kyrie was smiling widely as she clasped his hands and forced him to spin slow circles around the room with her. Vergil could hear music, faint as it was. Kyrie spun them in time with the beat, nudging Nero’s legs to get him to keep up with her.

And then she leaned in and kissed him, and his reluctance dropped away into a small, sincere smile. She didn’t have to nudge his legs after that; he moved clumsily, but he moved in step with her nonetheless. He laughed when he stepped on her toes twice in a row. She only smiled wider and squeezed his hands.

Nero looked so happy. His eyes shone as he looked at Kyrie. Kyrie, who was just a human, trained to sing, not fight.

And sing she did.

She opened her mouth and added lyrics to the music, and Nero pulled her closer and danced with her like he’d never stop. In the dim lighting, they brightened the room.

Vergil sat out of sight and watched them through the window. He tried to comprehend that look of pure joy on Nero’s face, and came up short with any instance of ever feeling such a thing himself.

His stomach twisted when Nero laughed, throwing his head back with the force of it. Just yesterday, he’d watched Nero clutch a blade and run a demon through, a savage grin on his face and blood streaking his white hair.

Now, those same hands held Kyrie’s with a tenderness Vergil would’ve never imagined the boy capable of. 

“You were supposed to knock on the door, not sit out here like a pervy old neighbor.”

“She’ll make him weak,” Vergil said.

Dante sat next to him. “Nah. You didn’t see that kid fighting for her in Fortuna.”

“I don’t understand,” Vergil said, and could’ve kicked himself for admitting it aloud, and to Dante of all people.

“You know, he called her before he came to stop us,” Dante said. “All he’s ever wanted was a family. She gave him one before we ever came along, brother.” Dante elbowed Vergil and flashed him a grin. “Stop being all ‘rahhh power is everything’ for five seconds and just be glad your kid can be that happy.”

Vergil bristled at that. “I never-”

“You do,” Dante said, clapping him on the shoulder. “I mean, I wasn’t mocking you. That was a straight-up imitation of you. Or do you mean me calling Nero your kid? Because you definitely made that happen, and that’s a story I’m still mixed on whether or not I want to hear.”

“I’m getting a hotel room,” Vergil said, standing up. 

“Need money for that.” Dante stood up and stretched. “Alright, alright, you can stay with me tonight. But tomorrow, I’m evicting you, and he’s your only choice.”

“Why are you trying to force me to be around him?” Vergil demanded, glaring.

Dante raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think he’s the only one who’s ever longed for a family.”

Vergil opened his mouth to argue, then decided it wasn’t worth it. Much as he hated it, some part of him did want to be around Nero.

His son. What a strange thing to think of himself as a father.

Ah, well. That was long done and settled. Nero was here, and he was Vergil’s. There was no changing that.

Vergil thought of his childhood home. Then he thought of the flames consuming it, and the rubble that had remained in the aftermath of his shattered childhood. 

Nero had a home to go back to at the end of each mission. He had a home and a family. Vergil had neither, not anywhere, maybe not ever again.

Vergil looked back through the window one last time. He could never give the boy the family Nero had likely dreamt of; but Kyrie had already done that, and Vergil would learn to make peace with that.

He walked away from Nero’s home. It was not his to intrude upon. Nero had built a family, where Vergil had only built ruin.

Vergil had no family and no home. That was his burden to bear, and he carried it with him and away from his happy child.

[thesapphictimelady]

Sacred Purity

A/N: Hi guys! This is my current project, Sacred Purity! I'm super excited for you guys to read this first part! Based off the feedback I receive, I do plan to continue it when I have time this summer!

Word Count: 1K

Warnings: Lesbian relationship, sex in a church, domme/sub relationship, I will poke fun at the church a lot in this, spanking, blackmail

Characters: Wilhemina Venable and OC

Word key:

Theotokos: The mother of god

Kyrie Eleison: Greek "Lord have Mercy"

“God cleanse me a sinner, have mercy on me.” Sister Anastasia crossed herself and bent at the waist to kiss the face of the Theotokos. The thick perfume of the incense surrounded her as she ventured further into the chapel and took her place in the pews. Mother Superior rose to begin Matins, and Sister Anastasia took one last look around the chapel to check that all the candles had been lit. Her eyes were drawn to the furthest pew, where a woman dressed entirely in purple sat. Sister Anastasia looked at the woman curiously.

“Sister Anastasia,”

Sister Anastasia quickly turned to face the front after a sharp elbow hit her ribcage, but not before she made eye contact with the purple woman. The woman winked at her, and Sister Anastasia flushed.

Mother Superior began to sing, and Sister Anastasia tried her best to follow along, but above her sisters’ familiar voices, there was a new voice. The purple woman. Her voice was low, almost gravelly but still lovely.

“Kyrie Eleison, Kyrie Eleison, Kyrie Eleison,” Sister Anastasia nearly jumped out of her skin when she realized that the purple woman had snuck into the pew behind her and now sang directly into her ear. The thick carpeting of the chapel had disguised the click of the woman’s cane.

“It’s a lovely service,” the woman purred in her ear. Sister Anastasia nodded faintly, and a leather glove brushed the bit of her neck that her veil didn’t cover. After what felt like an eternity, the hand withdrew, and the pew creaked as the woman stood up.

Sister Anastasia let out her breath and set her face in her hands.

“Sister, are you alright?”

She lifted her face to offer Sister Agnes a weak smile. “Just a bit tired, Sister Agnes,” she whispered, “I think I’m going to go lie down.”

Sister Agnes nodded, “I’ll pray for you, sister.”

With a tight smile, she rose from the pew and slowly exited the chapel. Once she had left, she picked up her skirts and began to chase after the flash of purple that had disappeared around the corner

“Ma’am? Excuse me! Ma’am?!”

The purple woman stopped suddenly, causing Sister Anastasia to crash into her.

She turned to face her, “Oh, hello, mother.”

“M-mother?” Sister Anastasia picked herself up and dusted off her habit “Oh no, it’s sister.”

“Oh? And here I was thinking you were the Mother Superior I’m meant to be meeting with.”

“Afraid not Miss. I’m Sister Anastasia.” she offered her hand to the purple woman.

“Is Mother Superior in the ten-year plan?” the woman asked, ignoring Sister Anastasia’s hand.

“I-no. No Miss....”

“Venable. Ms. Venable.”

“No, Ms. Venable, it is not in the ten-year plan.”

“A shame,” Ms. Venable looked her up and down and smirked. There was something almost predatory in her eyes that made Sister Anastasia’s breath catch. “But perhaps it’s for the best.” “I-”

“Now,” Ms. Venable interrupted, “I didn’t come just for the music.”

“Did you have an appointment, Ms. Venable?”

“Yes, I told you. I’m meant to be meeting with Mother Superior.”

“She’s still in Matins. But I can take you to her office if you want?”

“That would be acceptable.” Ms. Venable’s tongue darted from her mouth to moisten her lips. Sister Anastasia flushed at the sudden thought of those purple lips on her neck.

“R-right this way Ms. Venable.” Sister Anastasia led her down the narrow hallway.

“From my conversation with Mother Superior, I understand you need a security system.” Ms. Venable said, cane tapping in time with every step.

“Yes, we had a break-in last week. They stole the gold candlesticks from the chapel.”

“How unfortunate.” Ms. Venable murmured. “When was the convent built?”

“1883, but we did have wiring put in more recently when we began using the space again. I joined the convent shortly after the wiring went in, about 5 years ago.”

“You’ve been living surrounded by history,” Ms. Venable said, pausing to face Sister Anastasia. “History and beautiful women.”

Sister Anastasia blushed hard. “Beautiful women, Ms. Venable?”

“Don’t try to deny it, Sister Anastasia,” Ms. Venable said, leaning in so that her lips brushed her ear.

“I-I don’t know what you’re insinuating.”

“Oh sweet innocent sister Anastasia, I know you aren’t so innocent.” Ms. Venable purred, running the tip of her tongue along the shell of her ear before pulling away.

Sister Anastasia braced herself against the wall, knees trembling. Ms. Venable pointed a gloved finger towards the corner.

“You see, my dear, there have been security cameras since the wiring went in. All that needed to be done was to switch control to my company and now I can see all the footage these cameras have picked up. Such a naughty little nun you are, Sister Anastasia!” Ms. Venable gave her a predatory grin, her eyes dark as she continued, “What would the Theotokos say if she had seen you last week, kneeling in the chapel with your hand under your skirts?”

“You...you saw that?” Sister Anastasia whispered.

“Of course I did silly girl. Why else would I be here today? The security footage has been streaming directly to my office for my viewing pleasure. What a surprise it was to see you kneeling before the icon of the Theotokos.” Ms. Venable smirked and reached a gloved hand to cup Sister Anastasia’s face.

Sister Anastasia jerked away from her gloved hand and slid down the wall onto the floor.

“Why me? Surely there’s another Sister here who...who touches herself.”

“A devout nun touching herself? No, Sister Anastasia, you’re the only one I’ve seen. And I have cameras everywhere.”

Sister Anastasia put her face in her hands. “Please, please don’t tell Mother Superior. The convent is my home! I have nowhere else to go.”

Ms. Venable stared down at her, crumpled on the floor before she tapped her cane against the tile. “Follow me.”

Sister Anastasia wiped her face and stood, following Ms. Venable down the narrow hallway until they reached a bedroom.

“I believe this is your bedroom, Sister Anastasia.” Ms. Venable said, opening the door and stepping in. “It is lovely to see it in person rather than over the cameras.”

Sister Anastasia’s eyes widened and her cheeks turned red. “Y-you were watching my bedroom?”

Ms. Venable settled herself onto the bed and sighed. “Yes, do try to keep up.” she leaned her cane against the edge of the bed and lifted her skirts. “If you do exactly as I say, I won’t tell Mother Superior about what a slutty nun you are.”

[rodeoxqueen]

SMELLS LIKE QUARAN-NEROKIRI SPIRIT 

Nero/Kyrie

“In quarantine, Nero and Kyrie spend time together.” 

Rodeo’s Two Pieces: 

First time writing for Nero/Kyrie. Tread lightly with my take of their dynamic. 

(I)- Dalgona Coffee and Cookies. 

Despite how everything was shut down and the grocery was found vacant of basic necessities, Nero was grateful to at least be with someone he loved the most. 

“Look, we probably need some time off from kickin’ demon ass anyways,” Nico explained, smoking a cigarette during the video chat. 

“Yeah, not like demons care about being six feet away. People don’t even do that.” Nero looked at himself in the little square in the corner of his phone. Clad in a grey hoodie, he hadn’t even bothered putting on anything over his boxers. No one had come to visit since the mandate to stay inside, what was the point? 

Nico was in her garage again, from what he could see in the camera view. Cigarettes and old cups of coffee littered her desk, warbled country music playing off-view. 

“Who knows, maybe I’ll make something to fix that. I was thinking a mask-gun, rapid-fire reloading.” 

“Artisan of Arms, huh?” Nero laughed, getting up from his bed. 

“You fuckin’ bet. Now I gotta go. Got some things to weld.” 

“See ya, Nico. Stay safe, alright?” 

“Yeah, yeah.” He gave a peace sign before pressing “end video call.” 

The video chat ended and Nero tucked his phone into his pocket. Even banter just wasn’t the same virtually. 

“Who was that? Nico?” Nero made it down the hallway to see Kyrie, bustling about getting things from the cupboards. 

“Yeah, still building stuff as usual.” 

Kyrie had been in their apartment’s kitchen, deciding to try her hand at some recipes she saw online. A bag of flour, too many bowls, and more chocolate than Nero remembered buying, all laid out on the table. 

Just when he wanted something to eat, he’d have to wait or his girlfriend would practically make enough to feed an army and be surprised when he didn’t want anymore. 

He opted for a cup of water instead. 

Nero admired her hair, how it looked when it wasn’t in a ponytail, how it sat perfectly on her shoulders. Seeing how she started to measure some ingredients, he took the hair tie on his wrist, careful fingers bringing it into a low ponytail. 

“Oh, thank you.” She commented, opening her booklet of recipes she had handwritten. Neat, slanted cursive in a smattering of blue, red, and black read out recipes for cookies, cakes, and bread. 

“You look busy, planning to make all of those?” Nero rested his chin on her shoulder, shrouding her with warmth. 

“Well, I don’t know how long we’re going to be stuck at home, might as well try some recipes out. Maybe we can deliver some to the orphanage.” 

“That is if I don’t eat all your prototypes first.” She laughed, birdsong to Nero’s ears. 

“As long as you help me I don’t mind if you do.” Kyrie handed him a measuring cup. Nero sighed, taking it. He always lost count of how many cups of flour he was supposed to put in the bowl. 

A jar of porous dough caught his eye as he sifted some baking soda in his white mixture. He took it from Kyrie’s side of the island. 

“Whoa, what is this? A science experiment?” Kyrie chuckled, watching Nero scrutinize the date on the white tape to the top of the mason jar. 

“No, it’s a sourdough starter! It’s basically wild yeast. We can make bread with it since people bought out all the dry yeast in the grocery store.” 

Nero shook it with curiosity and then opened the silver lid, making an “eh” face at the smell. 

“It’s yeast alright.” 

Kyrie continued whipping up the sugar and butter mixture, Nero helping himself to a handful of chocolate chips. 

“Have you talked to your uncle and father? They must be staying at the shop in Redgrave.” 

Nero shrugged. 

“Most likely, I haven’t talked to them yet. Dante probably didn’t pay the phone bill and Vergil doesn’t know how to use the phone anyways.” 

“Let’s just hope they’re getting along during this time.” 

Nero thought back to all the “family outings” he had since his uncle and father returned from hell, mostly just jobs becoming contests of strength that turned to friendly family fights. Endless banter and elbowing. 

Honestly, compared to that, standing next to his girlfriend while they shaped cookies for the oven was heaven. 

Once the chocolate chip cookie dough was done baking, Kyrie insisted they make some whipped coffee while they cooled.  

“I thought you didn’t like coffee, Kyrie.” She stooped down to find something in the lower cabinets. A robotic hand that was colored dark blue and black, his old Devil Bringer, appeared with a tiny whisk duct-taped to it. 

“Yeah, but that TikTok made it look so good.” Nero handed her the glass container of instant coffee. 

Turning on the Devil Bringer, the tiny whisk spun to life, rapidly mixing sugar, coffee, and water together. With her back turned, Nero popped a thing of cookie dough in his mouth. 

“Honestly, Nico should have patented these Devil Bringers, make a bunch of money, and maybe she’d stop trying to rip me off all those times.” 

“Support local businesses, Nero.” 

He looked over her shoulder, surprised at how an abysmal brown mixture had become fluffy and thrice its previous volume. 

Two cups of milk poured, the practically instantly whipped coffee laid on top like a decadent Mount Everest next to a still-warm plate of cookies. 

“Cheers!” Kyrie clinked glasses with him, stirring her mug vigorously with a spoon. He copied her, taking a sip of surprisingly light and sweet coffee. 

When he lowered his cup, Nero both revealed to the world a mustache of whipped coffee. 

Kyrie snorted into her cup, covering her mouth as she bit back a laugh. Embarrassed, Nero went to wipe it off when Kyrie pecked him on the lips. She drew back to reveal an imprint of the ‘stache on her own upper lip. 

“We match now.” Kyrie giggled, helping herself to another gooey cookie. 

Half a plate of cookies and two mugs properly drained of its contents, Kyrie and Nero loaded up the dishwasher to do the work. 

“This is coffee, why am I tired?” Kyrie yawned. 

The couch was this god-awful IKEA purchase that took hours for Nero to just figure out what the instructions meant. But right now, it perfectly supported both of them while they slept away their food coma. 

(II)- Curl Up And Dye. 

After the second time the mandate got lengthened, Nero could sense that Kyrie was starting to wane in her ever-positive attitude. The news had nothing good to say, and the number of shows they had binged left them indifferent to watching anything more. 

They did a lot of singing during quarantine, Kyrie always being the musical one. Evanescence was one of their favorites to sing together, Nero’s guitar skills and Kyrie’s ability to hit those high notes left many memorable nights of laughter. 

After a while, Kyrie began to just sit on the couch a lot and have Nero pay her company. 

“What’s wrong?” Kyrie sighed heavily, curling into Nero’s hoodie as he opted to stay shirtless. 

“I don’t know Nero, it just feels like everything is the same. We go through the same things every day and I just feel...trapped.” 

Nero kissed the nape of her neck, humming in agreement. 

“Look, I’m usually the one going to you for stuff like this but...it will get better. It’s been a really hard time for all of us, and we’re just watching everything go downhill. It’s not a good situation but, you got me. Always. And there’s still a lot of things we can change up if that helps.” He stroked her hair and rubbed her back, feeling her take a deep breath. 

“You’re right Nero. That really did help. Thank you for listening.” 

“Of course.” 

While he scrolled on his own phone, he didn’t heed all the things Kyrie was watching. She touched her own long hair, seeing the way other people recorded their own home-salon trims. 

“Things to change, huh?” She mumbled. 

So here they were now. 

“It looks so bad!” Kyrie exclaimed, her face in her hands, hair on the bathroom sink. Nero shook his head. 

“No it’s not, Kyrie! You look fine, just let me fix it!” In the mirror, Nero cringed at the way her hair was ridiculously over-layered. 

“Um, what did you try to do-” 

“Curtain bangs! Oh Nero, I shouldn’t have tried to change up my hair!” Kyrie was thoroughly upset, seeing how her bout of bravery lead to her bangs being mauled by her own hands. 

Nero hugged her, noting that she had been wearing his shirt while she trimmed her hair. 

Okay that shirt’s gonna itch for a while until all the hair comes out. 

“It’s okay, let me see if I can fix it.” Kyrie blushed in the mirror, groaning at how bad her hair was cut. 

“There’s no way you could make it worse than what I did.” 

Nero gingerly took the scissors Kyrie put in the sink, a little bit too small for his hands but good enough. Although he was no stylist, he could tell where Kyrie had either cut too much off or unevenly. 

Eventually, they did manage to cut it in a way that hid the previous mistakes. Kyrie took another deep breath. 

“I shouldn’t have been so impulsive.” She murmured, arms crossed. 

Nero chuckled at her rare emotional outburst. He was glad to have been able to be there for her. She always hid how she felt, helping others her way of expressing herself. Now with no one around but him, he totally understood that she felt helpless. 

No one liked being helpless. 

He kissed her cheek and a lightbulb went off in his head. 

“You wanna dye my hair?” Kyrie turned around in surprise. 

“What?” 

“I mean, who knows how long this shutdown is gonna be, it’ll be fun,” Kyrie noted how Nero had forgone shaving, his peach fuzz becoming something more. 

Honest blue eyes peered at her, wondering what she would think. Her surprise softened to a sort of relief in their solidarity. 

“What color, Nero?” 

“Neon green-” 

“Nico’s going to make fun of you.” Kyrie giggled. Nero shrugged nonchalantly. 

“I don’t mind it.” 

(III)- Can’t Get Out Of It, Get Into It. 

“Nero, you look so fucking ridiculous.” 

“Shut up, Dante.” 

His uncle finally managed to figure out how to work the virtual chat on his fossil of a computer, and Nero was already prepared to end the call. 

His father sat slightly off-camera, not in the mood to entertain Dante’s antics to ridicule his son. Although, he did look oddly radioactive with his washed-out green hair and strong quarter-past five o’clock shadow.  

“Quarantine did not do you a favor, good lord,” Dante commented, kicking his feet up on his desk. Nero flipped him off. 

“Good to know you’re still living in shambles, not surprised neither of you cleaned up after yourselves.” The number of bottles on the floor was a travesty and the couch littered with poetry books Vergil had slowly begun to hoard. 

Nico entered the zoom call, smoking another cigarette Nero was lucky to not have to smell. 

“Nice broccoli head.” 

Nero flipped her off as well. Kyrie came into view, smiling at her boyfriend’s family and their shared friends. Nero decided to get a drink, clicking a few buttons before letting Kyrie have the seat. 

As they discussed how the business would continue with Devil May Cry, Kyrie sat next to Nero. 

It was mainly business, until it got to a certain line that Dante said. 

“I don’t know, it just feels like things are just going to keep staying like this. Hate to break it to you Nero, but it’s going to be tough for a while.” 

Kyrie finally heard enough, scooching Nero aside so she could talk. 

“Kyrie, wait-” 

“We’re going to get past this. As long as humanity still keeps coming together for the sake of benefiting each other, and we keep working to make sure to keep safe, we will get past this. We just have to keep hoping, and sure, hoping isn’t always going to make you feel better. I would know. But in a time where we do feel helpless, we should connect with other people in a different way. That’s why we succeed, we keep moving, we keep adapting! And hope, hope keeps that going.” 

Kyrie took a long breath. Looking at the dumbfounded group, she waited for a response. 

“Um, Kyrie. You were muted.” Nero finally said. Kyrie realized her blunder and how Nero’s hand was attempting to unmute them. 

“Oh.” Kyrie flushed, looking embarrassed. 

“I have no idea what you just said, but that’s okay.” 

“I’m sorry, that was so awkward.” 

“Don’t worry yourself, Kyrie. I bet it was real sweet whatever you had to say,” Nico assured. 

The zoom call was full of laughter since, a business call turned to a time to discuss how each person was doing. 

Dante and Vergil had spent days and nights sparring, Vergil learning more about humanity from Dante, and “making their own pizzas.” 

Nico had continued welding and making weapons for her own curiosity rather than based off of commission-based instructions. The van finally had the vinyl player fixed and she apparently gave herself a stick-and-poke. 

“So what did you two love birds do?” Nico asked, lighting another cancer stick. 

Nero and Kyrie looked at each other, smiling at their shared memories of this strange period in human history. 

“Where do we even start?”  Kyrie said, thinking of all the days and nights that seemed to breeze by and also slowly progress. 

Nero ruffled his longer messy green hair, Kyrie tucking her curtain bangs behind her ear. As they were two peas in the pod, Nero had decided to get another set of gray sweats for Kyrie, matching finally. 

Kyrie bit into a cookie, offering Nero some. 

“Smells like quarantine spirit, huh?” Dante finger-gunned.

Nero chuckled. 

“Hell yeah.” 

[beyond-the-mirror]

Music of the Night (V x Reader)

Chapter 7 is finally here! As I have mentioned a couple posts ago I am going to focus solely on this story for the time being. I will try my best to update at least once per week so stay tuned.

Warnings: A little angst in a few parts.

Tagging: @thedyingmoon​ @minteyeddemon​ @vampiregirl1797​

If you wish to be tagged in this story let me know in the comments.

………………….

Chapter 7: Nightingale in the Cage

“So Bishop, would you mind explaining to us the reason you decided to become a patron for the Opera house?”

“Oh not at all.” Sanctus took a deep breath before speaking again. “As you may have heard in the local news, an estranged brother of mine passed away some time ago, may his soul rest in peace. Days later I received a visit from his lawyer, apparently he had accumulated quite the fortune and his testament determined that I would be the sole heir of all his possessions and shares.” The Bishop made a brief pause, the death of his brother still weighing down his heart. “I actually have no need for such a large sum of money, which is why I only kept a modest enough amount for me and decided to donate the rest in favor of the conservation of the arts.”

“A rather noble cause indeed Bishop, our sincerest apologies for your loss.” Monsieur Andre added.

“Thank you for your condolences. All my life I’ve considered myself to be an admirer of the fine arts. There’s nothing I wouldn’t love more than to finance Fortuna’s famous Opera House and support the careers of its many skilled artists.”

“And we shall be forever grateful for your patronage bishop.” Monsieur Firmin mentioned before lifting his champagne glass. “Let’s have a toast for the future of Fortuna’s Opera House.”

“For the future of this new society.” Raoul finished before the men raised their glasses together in glee. The vicomte, however, seemed to have a sense of sadness in his eyes that he hid all too well from everybody. How he wished to spend more time with you, but didn’t find you at the party.

Maybe you were too exhausted to attend and went home instead? Whatever it was, he wished you were okay.

………………….

‘The newest play from Fortuna’s Theatre Company, Hannibal, has been critically acclaimed by specialized press, scoring an impressive average of 4.6 out of 5 stars’

‘The exquisite acting and choreography are to be praised. However, its most prominent figure is the miraculous voice of the main singer, who has replaced iconic soprano Carlotta Guidicelli as the protagonist.’

‘Step down Carlotta! A new queen has arrived and the spotlight is all hers!’

‘In a shocking turn of events, Signora Carlotta Guidicelli, believed to be the company's successor to legendary soprano Kyrie Eleison, has been overshadowed by a new rising talent. A humble fortunian songstress by the name of (Y/N) (Y/L/N).’

‘(Y/N) (Y/L/N). The break-through songstress that has captivated the audience’s hearts. Is this the birth of a brand new star?’

Reviews, articles and blog posts about the company’s new soprano spread around the internet like wildfire, every single one focusing on the same subject: The mysterious soprano that took Fortuna by surprise and dethroned 'La Carlota’ herself.

The girl had become the theatre’s own Venus and Aphrodite, a muse that inspired all the souls touched by her melodious voice. A nightingale turned human, an angel descended to Earth.

But as her performances continued and her fame grew, a few observant enough would take notice of certain… details regarding her.

The truth behind this? A sinister shadow was tormenting the theatre’s beloved angel, one that threatened to consume not only her, but everything around.

………………….

“I refuse to accept this!” Carlotta stomped her heel on the marbled floor of her lavish bedroom, taking a sip from the almost full glass of wine in her hand.

Ever since that fiasco when she stormed out of the theatre during the rehearsals for ‘Hannibal’, the soprano’s life seemingly started turning for the worse, all because of that girl that once dared to collide with her during rehearsal. She had insisted the dancer had done so on purpose, envious of her great talent.

And now it turns out that dancer is the same one that took her role as the main protagonist! Carlotta felt offended by such a decision, she was a professional while that girl was just a simple amateur

Still, she had to admit this (Y/N) had a gifted voice. What she could not explain is how she managed to perfect her skill to such a high level if she claimed to be an inexperienced singer? As talented as one could be, it takes years of work and practice to master one’s craft, the only explanation she could come up with was that the girl had to have a special tutor, and an exceptional one at that.

But who?

Realizing her glass was already empty, Carlotta hurried to refill it again. She had believed that with Kyrie gone to Broadway, she now had the stage clear for herself to finally shine above everyone else, after all, the only voice above Signora Carlotta could only be that of Fortuna’s legendary songstress herself.

Such hopes were now broken. She had a new competitor, one that was already stealing the spotlights.

As she turned to the broadcast of the company’s most recent play, she huffed when the camera focused on the new main singer. The audience had fallen right into her trap, and now she had them all wrapped around her lithe finger.

“I don’t know what they see in her, she’s nothing special and she’s not that pretty. Especially with those dark circles under her eyes, does she even sleep? Careful girl, you are already losing your youth.” Carlotta snorted before downing her glass of wine.

………………….

“Vicomte Raoul! Bishop Sanctus! We weren’t quite expecting your visit to our Opera House. What can we do for you, gentlemen?”

Messieurs Andre and Firmin almost tripped over their own feet as they hurried to attend the Opera House’s important benefactors. Raoul managed to hide his laughter at their eagerness, while Sanctus simply offered the two a gentle smile.

“Do not worry for us, messieurs. This fine theatre holds so many precious memories of my youth, so I thought it appropriate to drop by and watch the rehearsals take place if you don’t mind us.”

“Oh, not at all Bishop! This way please.”

As the four men approached the hall, a melodious voice resonated through the walls.

“Ah! You are in luck. Our lead singer seems to be on stage right now practicing one of her numbers.” Firmin noted just as he opened the door to the main hall.

Madame Trish was supervising as usual, you stood at the stage performing an aria while Monsieur Reyer directed your voice through the song’s notes. As he took a seat near the stage next to Sanctus, Raoul was mesmerized by your singing figure, the passion and dedication you imprinted on your work palpable and strong enough to touch the hearts of others.

“An utter beauty, isn’t she?” The elder’s voice snapped him out of his trance. As he turned to face Sanctus, he noticed the soft smile and knowing look in his eyes. He gulped, were his feelings that obvious? Then again, Sanctus has seen and learned a lot during the many years of his long life, wisdom comes with age after all.

“Ah! Young love! Perhaps the purest and most innocent of them all.” The bishop gave a hearty chuckle. “Miss (Y/N) is definitely special. Her voice alone holds so much power, enough to make the entire audience bow to her, and yet she still remains humble and authentic.”

Raoul turned his attention back to the stage where you were now conversing with Trish and Reyer about your routine during the number. The vicomte could see what Sanctus meant, you weren’t arrogant or prideful like Carlotta, but rather attentive and open to the feedback and mentoring offered to you.

A smile grazed his lips. He had just met you and already you were taking over his heart and mind.

Still as he observed you going through the song one more time, there was something off that caught his eye. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but it was there. The heave of your chest whenever you ended a verse, the slight trembles of your feet whenever they moved along the lines marked on the stage by Trish. 

You looked… tired? Exhausted, perhaps? No... more like detached.

But you continued the rehearsal with no trouble. Maybe your sudden growing popularity was already taking its toll on you, as well as all the performances you had to do at the theatre. For anyone without experience, such exhaustion is understandable.

In the seat next to him, Bishop Sanctus was also studying you. However, his expression seemed more preoccupied than that of the vicomte. He too had noticed some kind of dark aura looming around you, and he pondered what this could mean for the Opera House’s future, and for his plans too.

………………….

petite.aerette  I can’t believe I finally got to watch #Hannibal. So happy to know the Opera House is on the rise once again. #FortunaOperaHouse #theatre #musical

alya_hyacinth  You saw it live? Girl, I’m jealous!

dramaqueen101  Aaah I was there too! I wish you told me you were going, we could have gone together and have our seats next to each other.

petite.aerette  Sorry! Mom surprised me with our tickets that same morning. Did you see that new singer everyone is talking about? She is awesome! I already love her voice and acting!

dramaqueen101  I know right?! In fact I caught a glimpse of her after the play when she retired to her dressing room. I wanted to go talk to her but it was too crowded and she seemed to be in a rush. However I noticed she looked a bit tired? As if she hadn’t been getting enough sleep.

………………….

Free time had become a luxury for Nico. There was always something to fix, something to supervise, something to check. Whatever breaks she would get, she welcomed them with open arms and relaxed as much as she could before it was back to work again.

It was in one of these breaks when she ran into you, what better way to enjoy some free time than with a dear friend?

But as she approached your figure, Nico took notice of your appearance. Your skin was now as pale as a ghost, your eyes were heavy with sleepiness and dark circles framing them. You looked as if you were about to collapse at any given moment.

“Hey, you alright sugarcube?” Nico’s hands went to your arms by instinct, just in case you were feeling sick and you needed to be rushed to the infirmary. But with a small smile, you tried to ease her worries.

“Couldn’t get much sleep last night, that’s all.”

“Uh huh…” Nico was many things, highly perceptive was one of those. Many have found out the hard way that she was not an easy one to fool. Of course, it was no surprise that she could see right through your words. “Come. Let’s get you some warm tea.”

Stern and maybe a bit harsh, but caring when the situation called for it. That was Nicoletta Goldstein for you. One of the most surprising things about her is that she made the best tea in the world according to the people working at the theatre. 

“This should ease you a bit, honey. Careful, it’s still hot.” As she handed you the small cup, she looked at you with worry in her eyes but didn’t say anything. Instead she waited for you to open up and tell her what was wrong.

You could already picture the almost dead look you must have had. With slightly shaky hands you held onto the porcelain cup, raising it to your lips and gently blowing the steam to cool it down a bit. As a warm earthy flavor filled your taste buds, your body could finally ease up and relax even if just for a little while, granting you a moment of much needed peace.

Still, you didn’t find it in yourself to tell her.

Luckily for you, Nico knew better than to keep insisting. She figured that whatever was worrying you, you weren’t ready to talk about it yet. Nonetheless, she stayed right by your side in a comfortable silence with a cup of tea of her own.

It was a nice and peaceful moment, at least until she was called to check on one of the moving stage props.

And so she excused herself, but not before reminding you that you could always count on her for anything.

What Nico didn’t know, however, was the reason for your silence.

You didn’t tell her because something was forcing you to. 

………………….

Days became weeks. Weeks became months. And soon enough, time itself began to blur.

Ever since that night at his sanctuary, everything felt… off.

You had woken up in your bed, feeling dazed and lightheaded, perhaps the effects of the turmoil from the previous night.

V. The first thing on your mind as soon as you recovered your consciousness was him.

You wanted, no, needed to find him and get some answers. Why did he disappear so many years ago? Why was he hiding his true identity from you?

… What were those black markings scarring his face?

There was just one problem, you didn’t know where exactly was his sanctuary located. The secret passage behind the mirror in your dressing room came to mind, but in order to navigate the underground canals you needed a boat, not to mention that it was easy to get lost in there. Maybe you could ask the authorities for help, but how could you explain your story and make them believe you?

You made your decision on the way to the Opera House. You would start by telling Nico for the moment, you trusted her enough and she often gave the best advice on any matter.

But the moment you spotted her in the distance and tried to approach her, something strange happened.

An unseen force lodged itself in your chest, holding your voice and your heart in a vice grip that burned through your entire body. All the air in your lungs escaped you, and the feeling of daze you felt that morning returned in full force. You tried to scream, call for help, but no sound would come out of your lips. All words died as soon as they left your vocal chords.

You watched Nico leaving after someone required her assistance, and as soon as she disappeared from your line of sight, the pain stopped. As sudden as it had arrived.

You remained frozen in your place, goosebumps raised on your flesh. The moment some sensation came back to your legs, you ran away.

The day continued with relative normalcy, but your mind remained perturbed. And hours later, just as all the scheduled performances had ended for the day, you headed for your dressing room.

Once inside, the mirror opened, and everything went black.

When you opened your eyes, it was already morning the next day. Once again you woke in your bed, feeling as dazed and lightheaded as the day before. But the feeling didn’t go away, and with everyday that passed, it only became worse.

Strangely enough, your performances never faltered once despite the unknown illness weighing you down, almost as if you were doing everything automatically, like a machine following its program. You were thankful for this apparent ability to keep it together, but soon you started feeling detached. It reached a point when you could no longer feel your own body, or the melodic notes leaving your lips. You were no longer living, but rather watching your life unfold itself without any input of your own.

Many times you made an attempt to tell someone, anyone, about this; but you found that every single time you were about to do so, that terrible pain would return until you desisted. Soon, you were conditioned to stay quiet.

One day Nico began noticing your predicament, but by then that obscure force had you under its control already. She was right there, concerned and willing to help. And yet you didn’t dare to speak up.

Panic often filled your mind, hopelessness flooded your soul. You prayed and prayed for this nightmare to stop.

After another successful performance, the last one for the day, you found yourself inside the main dressing room as usual.

And as usual, the mirror opened, letting out the hidden darkness that haunted the Opera House behind everyone’s backs.

………………….

Poor unfortunate Joseph Buquet. 

Ever since that incident with the falling curtain, Nico had him double checking pretty much everything. Every rope, pulley and mechanism had to be meticulously examined in order to prevent another incident like that from happening again. Now he understood why it was such an important and critical matter, the least he wanted was for anybody to be harmed due to a malfunction after all, but his own anxiety over making a mistake and causing another accident was already getting him. The poor man would triple- no, cuadruple check every single detail in an almost paranoid way. Not a single nook or cranny would be left unattended by this dedicated worker.

So it was no surprise that today was especially bad for the nervous Mr. Buquet, for his trusty utility belt had been misplaced, making him search the whole building for his precious tools.

Only after finding his utility belt did Buquet allow himself to feel relieved, a heavy burden lifting off his tired shoulders. He was making his way back to the fly floor when the sound of hurried steps nearby reached his ears, as he turned at a corner he caught a glimpse of you closing the door to your dressing room shut. Noticing the way you entered the room in such a haste, he worried something might have happened to you. Maybe you were feeling sick and needed to rest? These days you had been looking paler than usual, and the man had to admit that seeing you in your current lamentable state tugged at his heartstrings.

Walking to your door, Buquet politely knocked at the wooden surface “Miss (Y/N), is everything alright?” But no answer came back.

He knocked again, this time a bit louder. “Miss (Y/N), are you there?” Again, no answer.

Now he was getting genuinely concerned. He even pressed his ear to the door in an attempt to hear whatever was happening inside, but he found only silence.

“Miss (Y/N) I’m opening the door right now!” Buquet immediately took hold of the knob and slowly cracked it open, merely peeking inside just in case you needed some privacy after all.

The sight that greeted him sent chills to his very bones.

A tall shadowy figure towered at the back of the room, its arms wrapped around your unconscious body in a seemingly possessive manner. Like a ghost, it moved towards the mirror and disappeared with you in its arms.

Buquet stood frozen as his mind tried to process what just happened before him.

He had heard the stories, rumors about an entity that haunted the Opera House. Some workers would mention seeing shadows through the corners of their eyes, others would claim that low growling noises could be heard at the hallways when they were empty enough, and a few would tell how they found strange iridescent blue feathers in the most bizarre locations inside the premises.

His mind pictured the heavy curtain that mysteriously fell on Carlotta. Then, the strange Box Four that always remained unoccupied despite the concierge’s claims about hearing a voice coming from inside.

They called it different names. A poltergeist, a monster, a demon… a Phantom…

But this time they hadn’t moved a prop or taken a simple object with them.

This time, they had taken a person.

………………….

Locked inside one of the restrooms designated for the staff, Mr. Buquet did his best to calm himself down. He had just witnessed the kidnapping of a promising young woman by the hands of an… an entity.

His hands flew to his hair in panic. What could he do? Nobody would believe a phantom had spirited away the company’s Prima Donna!

He… he had to have been hallucinating! Yes, that had to be it. For years the staff has accused the Phantom for all the minor inconveniences that often sabotaged rehearsals and productions, but this was an entirely different story, a songstress was just kidnapped for Lord Sparda’s sake! Urban legends or not, the supposed Phantom had never gone to these extremes before.

Splashing some cold water on his tired face one last time, Buquet finally exited the restroom and made his way back home, all the while reassuring himself that what he had witnessed couldn’t have been real.

‘Tomorrow Miss (Y/N) is gonna come to work as always. Nothing bad happened to her. Right now she is at home, resting on her bed.’ He would repeat himself over and over.

And the next day, Buquet got his much needed relief when he saw you rehearsing at the stage as if nothing had transcurred the night before. He almost let out an euphoric laugh when he saw you safe and sound and that he had been anxious for nothing.

Concluding that the constant burnout was the cause of his hallucinations, Mr. Buquet requested for a few days off to recover, a request that Monsieur Andre approved without thinking twice. 

Everything was going to be okay… or so thought Joseph Buquet.

Castings for a new production called ‘Il Muto’ were about to start in a few weeks, and everyone was about to witness how a single wrong decision could unleash the most gruesome of horrors.

[decafinated-coffee]

Hunted Love Chapter 3

Hey hey looky here- another chapter! Who would of thought- 

Twas helped by our lovely @thottyonmainsquid 

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“V what the hell is wrong with you?!” A male voice whispered through the other end of the phone, “Do you know what time it is?”He asked, clearly angry. V couldn’t help but rub the back of his head and look at the time, 3am it read.

“Sorry Nero,” V said, “I just have a question to ask you… well a few,” Came the young man’s chuckle.

“This isn’t a laughing matter V, I’m going to beat your ass,” Nero huffed out on the other end, “What’s your damn question so I can go back to bed?” Sensing Nero’s impatience, V sighed and started to speak.

“Do you remember when we all; you, me, Dante, father, and Kyrie all went hunting together?” V leaned against a nearby wall. He could feel his brother's anger through the phone.

“Did you just call me to look back on some memory? You called me just for-”

“Just answer my question, yes or no?” V cut his brother off.

“Yes, I remember the day we all went...Why do you ask?” His tone was now replaced with suspicion,” If you called just to ask us to go with you all again the answer is no,”

“I wasn’t, stop assuming things brother,” V sighed, “You remember what you told us… about the lady you saw?” there was silence on the other end, “Nero?-”

“Come to the orphanage later on today,”  The call ended with Nero’s answer. V was just left standing there. It was going to be a long rest of the night for him. He didn’t want to wait, he was far too impatient with his curiosity as to who was the maiden in the forest. Finding the situation exasperating, V made his way to the kitchen. Perhaps a cup of tea would help him sleep through the rest of the night.

.

.

.

The sun seemed to take years to rise from its slumber. In the middle of a small opening laid the maiden, sleeping peacefully on the ground. Her chest rising slightly up and down, some small critters seemed to have joined her throughout the night. The light peaked through the trees and shone on her face, lulling her awake. Ashley sat up in her spot and rubbed her eyes, she looked around confused.

“Did I really fall asleep out here again?” The brunette stood up and dusted the dirt off her dress. The animals around her started to wake up as well.

“Ahsley? Ashley?!” The maiden could hear Sam calling out her name. Ashley walked towards her concerned friend and picked up the small creature.

“Sorry Sam, it seems like I fell asleep out here again,” The girl laughed a bit and petted her friend, wanting to comfort the little possum.

“You really need to stop doing that!” Sam exclaimed, turning her small body so she could see Ashley, “You know how early the hunters come out sometimes, they could have found you!” 

��Ahh- sorry Sam,” Ashley sighed and began to make her way back to the cabin. The sound of branches rustled around her prompted her to halt her steps, the trees started to speak to her with the wind. 

“Ashley? What is it?” Sam asked, placing her paws on the maidens chest. 

“They are speaking to me, the trees, the wind, and earth… the children are going to be playing in the forest today,” She said in a calm tone, “And as usual they want to see the heart,” the maiden chuckled.

“What do you plan to do?” Sam questioned the girl, still looking up at her. The maiden seemed to be lost in thought for a moment, before the corners of her lips formed a smile as she looked down at her furry friend.

“Well do what they normally tell me to do, make sure nothing happens while they play,” she patted Sam's head.

“But Ashley, you know how dangerous that is?” Sam protested against the girls' decisions.

“It's always been from a distance Sam.. you should come with me this time,” Ashley looked down at Sam.

“Hmm..fine,” Sam agreed. The maiden smiled again and headed off towards the orphanage.

.

.

.

“Took you long enough V,” Nero narrowed his eyes at his dark-haired brother. Next to him was his Fiancée, Kyrie, a beautiful and generous lady. She cared for everyone and everything, though her anger was a force to reckon with.

“What brings you here V?” She asked V, offering the young man a sweet smile. As if on cue, three of the children ran out.

“Mr.Nero!” One of them called, “Can we go play now?” The young child asked, Nero knelt down with a smile and patted the kid’s head.

“You kids can start playing, Kyrie can you watch them please? V and I need to talk,” She nodded. Nero stood up and motioned for his brother to follow him. “So what did you see?” Nero asked immediately after they got inside, looking at his brother with a serious expression on his face.

“Well- I didn’t see much just her arm but- I did hear her voice, so calming and sweet. She soothed the wolf that attacked me,” V looked back at Nero,”She saved me…”

.

.

.

“Whoa- Ashley!” Sam exclaimed looking at the seemingly large building from between the tree branches. The possum had never seen anything other than the cabin that she lived in with the brunette. A few animals started to gather around the maiden, watching along with her. Some even nuzzled up against her leg.

“Seems like it might be a quiet day,” Ashley smiled and patted Sam's head. All of the sudden, more branches and leaves began to grow around her. The maiden was confused at first, until she saw the feminine figure below. It was the lady who worked there. She was watching the children, and had Ashley been careless, the maiden would have been seen.The wind then started to speak to her once more, and the maiden of the forest noticed how the expression on the stranger’s face changed- one into panic. Ashley sighed.

“What is it?” Sam looked up at her friend. The girl stood up from her place and looked down at the white creature.

“It seems like I have spoken too soon, one of the children has strayed too far into the forest,” With her possum friend still in her arms, Ashley jumped down and started to look for the child. The winds whispered help to her, guiding her in the right direction. 

.

.

.

As soon as V and Nero finished their conversation, they headed outside to Kyrie. 

"Nero!" The lady ran up to him, panic spread across her face. The white haired man knew something bad had happened.

"What happened?" Nero asked. Looking around to see if there was any danger.

"I can't find Kyle anywhere!" His eyes went wide and panic soon crossed his face as well. 

"Well let's not stand around, Nero and I shall look for him," V started to run towards the forest with Nero shortly after. The hunter and his brother looked back and forth, calling the child by name. V noticed how the bush was starting to become thicker and thicker. He thought that the child wasn't around, until he heard wailing through the leaves. He pushed through and his eyes grew, shocked at the sight before him. 

.

.

.

 “Ashley where are you going?” Sam asked, the brunette sighed.

“I told you before Sam, a child has seemed to stray too far from their home. They asked me to help, so I do,” Ashley stopped,”Mom never believed me when I told her about the wind singing to me or the trees and their whispers, but she never listened to me,” She continued making her way to the boy. 

The maiden made it to a small opening within the trees, a small area of grass that flourished with flowers and other plants. There he was, the child, walking around the open space.

As she observed the small boy walk closer to something that seemed...off, it caught both of their attention. She squinted her eyes, and that’s when she detected another snare trap. The maiden had to act quick, because the child was getting closer and closer, unaware of what lies hidden under the leaves. Ashley placed Sam down and ran to the child and stopped him from stepping on the hunters trap.

She picked up the child and moved him away from the trap, frightening him a bit by the sudden movement. He began to wail. The maiden crouched down in front of him and patted his head with a comforting smile to calm him. A small rustling in the bushes distracted her, with a slight movement of her ankle, she set the trap off. It snagged her foot and she was held upside down.

‘Not again!’ she thought to herself. Meanwhile the boy kept crying. Ashley could see Sam running towards her as fast as her little legs could take her. The brunette struggled to get the rope from her ankle, but it only seemed to become tighter.

“Ashley!” Sam called, frantic.

“I’m fine,” She winced at the bit of pain she was in, she looked at the boy, “Hey, it’s fine,” the maiden’s voice calming and soothing. More rustling could be heard, along with quick footsteps from the direction of the orphanage. Panic struck Ashley through her core, her eyes went wide as a man with ebony hair emerged from the bush. 

She recognized him, it was V, the hunter. More and more she struggled against the ropes causing them to tighten more. His face held shock as he stood there. He ran up to the child calming him down then he turned his attention to the brunette maiden. V slowly reached in his back pocket, pulling out his camo pocket knife and started to walk closer to her. 

Sam hissed and growled as the unknown man walked closer to Ashley. Her panic spiked when her eyes landed on the sharp object. He looked down at the knife in his hands then back to her, seemingly able to understand what was crossing her mind.

“Shh,” V said, “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle,” he walked closer to her and cut her free, catching her as she fell, “Are you alright miss?” V asked inspecting her red ankle, making sure it wasn't sprained. She flinched at his touch and she looked at Sam with pleading eyes.

“You better get your filthy paws off of my Ashley!” Sam jumped up in the maiden’s arms, but to V it was just hissing and growling.

“How interesting,” V looked at the albino possum, “ I’ve never seen such a creature before,” he said looking at Sam. Ashley hugged her friend close to her chest, her face felt warm. Once his arms weren’t around her she quickly jumped up, putting distance between them. V stood up a bit shocked, “I’m sorry how rude of me, my name is V and you are..?” he smiled at her.

“...I-I don’t know a-about this Sammy…” Ashley said to her friend. V had a confused look on his face, the earth started to react to the shy maiden. Growing shrubbery around to calm her down. V couldn't believe what he was witnessing.

"Ma'am what is your name..?" He asked once more. She looked down at Sam and then back at V.

"My n-ame?" He nodded his head, "My name is A-ashley," she stuttered out.

"Ashley huh?" V repeated her name . He started to recognize her voice, "it was you.." she flinched, "you were there when I was attacked.. by the grey wolves," She felt her heart drop to her stomach as she shrunk in her place, shaking from this confrontation, "You saved me.. thank-" Ashley cut him off.

"I'm sorry!" She squeaked out, "I can't stay any longer-" She slowly started to back away into the forest again.

"Wait!" V shouted but it only frightened the brunette and she ran off faster.

"Ashley! You need to calm down and watch out for traps!" Sam exclaimed to the scared maiden. The gal jumped up into a tree to collect her thoughts and calm her nerves. As she did, the environment reacted quickly and tree branches grew with lush leaves covering her body fully. Almost like a mother comforting her scared child. She sat there, unable to think straight. Sam did her best to help.

.

.

.

Meanwhile, V took Kyle back to the orphanage unharmed, a bit shocked about the events but he would be alright. V went to his younger brother and told him everything. Nero was astonished and was at a loss of words to what his older brother related to him. V when back home shortly after his questions only grew along with his curiosity. He needed to know more about her.

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What? Is something good supposed to go here?

[amethystaqua]

Of mugs and secrets (Or how Dante found out about your relationship with Vergil)

I finally finished after entire week of writing and editing! I never thought my first fanfic would be of 2223 words! I really hope you enjoy it! :D

The room was still dark as calmness reigned; the only sounds were the soft breathing on your ear of the man sleeping next to you. Vergil was spooning you, the warm feeling making a real struggle having to get up to start your day. You wiggle trying to move the least required, not wanting to disturb your boyfriend’s sleep, you almost made it, until he made some soft grunts. You froze fearing you might have woken him up, but he just turned to his side of the bed.

A smile found its way into your lips as you approached to kiss him ever so lightly on his mouth, then proceeding to leave the bedroom. You started to go through your day’s agenda in your head, the pendant paperwork waiting at work, visiting Nico to pick up your beloved, just repaired sword Polaris, and the appointment with a possible client. However, all your plans came to a halt the moment you notice a dark figure lying on the living room’s couch. Quietly you summon your spear Morgenstern out of thin air and approach the figure, looking around to see if something else was hiding in the shadows.

“Well now this is what I an exciting welcome (Y/N)” a sleepy familiar voice said making you jump out of the impression.

“My god… Dante! I was this close to stab you!”

“As you know, you wouldn’t be the only one sweetie” he sat on the couch while stretching his arms with an audible pop from his bones.

You met Dante when you were just a kid, with no family left, he rescued you from being a sacrifice for a greater demon since you were a Nephilim, however that seemed to be only the beginning of your problems. Demons appeared to be drawn to your blood like moths to a flame and thus, the week that you hadn’t been attacked by a demon, extremely uncommon. So instead of going to every orphanage or school you assisted to save you, Morrison decided it was for the best if Dante just adopted you. That way he could keep an eye on you, so no more civilians were put on danger, and also train you. Dante wasn’t in any sense qualified to adopting a little girl, but with your help (The motherly interventions of Lady and Trish, and some extra cash from Morrison) you two worked it out and in the process, perceived each other a bit like father and daughter.

“What on earth are you doing here?” you made Morgenstern disappear, heartbeat slowing down now that there was no real danger “And how did you get in?”

“Perks from my brand-new powers, and as for your first question… Let’s leave it I had kind of an emergency”

“Ok let’s review your concept of emergency” You leaned into him, taking carefully his face on your hands checking for any sings of cuts or bruises “does it involve injuries?”

“Not this time” he chuckled as you were still inspecting the rest of his body. After confirming the man was in one piece, you decided to head to the kitchen to start making breakfast with Dante following right behind you.

“An angry Trish or Lady?” you opened the fridge to start looking for the ingredients to make pancakes, you really stomach really needed some food now.

“Nah we just had drinks last week” he took a seat on the small kitchen table.

“Another powerful demon king about to be resurrected?” once you gathered everything you needed; you poured some flour along milk on the crystal bowl you took from the kitchen cabinet.

“Funny (Y/N) but no, not a demon, and somehow way more terrifying then one…Patty wants go out on a date with me” you almost dropped the egg you just grabbed for the batter, staring at him in disbelief on what he just said heard.

“Wait… so you broke into my apartment at” you looked at the clock next to the fridge “at 7:00 am just because you’re scared of a 19-year-old who wants a date with you?”

“I was coming back from a job! Morrison called me and he said a miss was waiting for me at DMC! Then I heard her voice on the phone! I’m not going anywhere with her when she’s faking a promise!”

“Dante…” Calm, take a deep breath you thought as you focused on inhaling deeply, he sure had a talent for making you lose your temper sometimes “are you serious? Both Morrison and I were there! I perfectly recall you saying when she’s turned old enough you would date her!

“Damn, so you’re saying she isn’t lying and I must keep my promise?”

“Yeah sure because I definitely want Patty to come on our already uncomfortable family dinners at Nero’s home” you answered sarcastically as you mixed the bowl’s ingredients “Just take her out to eat pizza or something, keep it as casual as possible so she doesn’t get her hopes up”

“Or... you could allow me to stay for a few days”

“Dante...”

“Please (Y/N) only 2 days!” he lifted up the chair and moved next to you “Just until she’s tired of stalking me!”

“Since you’re here not like I have much of a choice, do I?”

“I knew I could count on you!” Dante said while lifting you off the ground, on really strong hug just like he has done all these years since you were a kid.

“Be quiet!” you whisper loudly, squirming a bit in his tight embrace “Vergil is still sleeping!”

“Wait, what’s Verge doing here?”  he dropped you while looking at you quite confused.

Oh, you just fucked up big this time… Dante was the only one who didn’t know about your relationship with Vergil. Unknowing of your past together when he was V, Dante’s father instincts awakened, as he warned you to stay away from Vergil, after noticing the constant glances you shared with his twin, fearing his brother got interested in you just because you were a Nephilim.

“He uh... went on a job yesterday, and uh he got poisoned by a demon so he needed someone to cure him!” That was the only excuse your sleepy brain was able to scheme in those few seconds, thinking Dante would buy it… then you remembered the eldest son of Sparda never asked for help.

“So, he decided to come here was the best idea?”

“Yeah” you tried to smile at him to look as convincing as possible.

“My brother looking for you to heal him?... All right never thought I’d see the day the dumbass put his pride aside and ask for help!”

“Heh… guess he still remembers one of the times I cured him when he was V” You sighed in relief, turning your attention on the coffee machine to prepare some, thinking you got away with your little lie until…

“But why he didn’t return to Devil May Cry?”

“I-it was really late and cold outside so I suggested he spent the night here “blush adorned your checks, once you realized the size of the stupidity you just said. “Al-also, I needed to be certain I cured the wound properly.

Dante just hummed and returned to his seat, whether he believed that poorly made answer or not, he didn’t say it. You were about to change topic, but were interrupted by a growling.

“Geez...” you couldn’t help but laugh lightly “I suppose you haven't eaten anything”

“Can’t lie at this point” You smiled at him. Once the coffee machine finished you poured some coffee on 3 cups that you placed on the counter. With all the noise, probably Vergil would join you both for breakfast.

“Stay right here, and don’t touch anything” you said as walking past beside him.

A shower was really much needed. You were already a bit late and didn’t want to waste more minutes, after all, you could always buy something to eat at work if you didn’t have time left. On the hallway to the bathroom you found the elder son of Sparda already got up.

“Oh, hi I thought you were still asleep” you stood on your tiptoes to give him a quick peck on his cheek “Didn’t want to wake you up”

“To whom I must thank for making Dante grace us with his presence this early in the morning?” his icy blue eyes showing an evident annoyance.

“That would be Patty… apparently the poor girl really wants a date with your brother to the point she’s waiting for him at Devil May Cry as we speak”

“I’m afraid that doesn’t justify why he’s here” a frown taking over his features.

“Well… “you played with a loose lock of your hair “Lady and Trish aren’t home, Nico still wants to bang him and I’m not letting that happen, and finally Nero made crystal clear last time I spoke to him, he wanted Dante at least 10 mts away from Kyrie and Credo” Your best friends had just had their beautiful son, the last thing Nero needed was having Dante in their house with Kyrie so delicate after her pregnancy.

“Hmpf still he isn’t staying here” Vergil crossed his arms, his answer just as you predicted.

“Please I can’t kick him out of the apartment just like that! I bet if you were the one in his…”

“I would never find myself in such a ridiculous situation like this”

“Right, forget what I just said” you said a bit ashamed while scratching your head.

“Even if I did unlike Dante, I could find a solution on my own”

“My point is! He needs help” you cupped his face in your hands “I know we had plans but come on, it’s going to be just a couple of days” you gave him the best puppy eyes you could.

It wasn’t as frequent as you wished for Vergil to stay in your apartment, between your jobs and the constant efforts to hide the truth to Dante. That’s why those days where two of you just sat on a couch to read, or did any other silly activity together, became so precious memories.

“I promise I’ll make it up for you when he leaves” you whispered in his ear face turning red with the possible implications.

He pushed you carefully against a wall lifting you face and grazing with his thumb your plump lips.

“You should not take promises so lightly my dear angel” you melted at his words, his lips mere inches from yours “I fear you may have acquired my brother’s demeanors”

“Have I ever broken my word before?”

An almost imperceptible smile, one only you got to recognize adorned his face as he claimed your mouth on a passionate kiss, that to your perception didn’t last enough. But you didn’t complain once Vergil separated from you, the risk of being caught by Dante was way too high.

“He’s in the kitchen” you cleared your throat, trying to control your small gasps for air.

“I expected no less” he fixed his hair and clothes, erasing any sings of the kiss you just had.

“Welp I’m going to shower now, not taking long” you passed beside him and closed the bathroom’s door only to open it a few seconds later “Vergil wait! Geez I almost forgot; I left some coffee for you and Dante on the kitchen counter. I’m pretty sure you’ll know which mug is yours since your favorite mug broke in our tiny accident a few nights ago”

You winked playfully at him, but he only limited to clicked his tongue in disapproval and directed to the kitchen. Once Nico knew about your relationship with Nero’s deadbeat father (as she always called him) the mechanic wasted no time to tease, giving you a little present: a white mug with big blue letters that read I’m your daddy for your boyfriend to use. Obviously, once Vergil found out the existence of the mug, the first thing he wanted was to toss it on a trash can, but you didn’t allow it being a gift from Nico.

While you showered the guilt took over you for hiding Dante about you and Vergil. Maybe it was time to tell him the truth, after all, didn’t he always wanted for his brother to embrace his humanity and live a somewhat normal life? You stepped out of the bathroom once you finished, so deep in these thoughts that it wasn’t until you were on your way to the kitchen, that you noticed how quiet the house was. At this point you were so used to whenever the twins were together their heated conversations escalated quickly to an argument that sometimes required a third-party intervention, so the silence was really unusual.

“Ok now, is it okay for you guys to eat pan…cakes...”

Your voice lowered the volume as you looked at the scene before your eyes. Vergil and Dante were staring fixedly at each other with a murderous gaze, each one with a hand around the infamous cup, now you knew the real reason for the unusual silence, Dante must have assumed the mug was his.

“So…” you laugh nervously “I guess the cat is out of the bag.

The end

[sparkie96]

😍

(I don’t remember what the emoji stands for, mainly because I lost the prompt post, so I’m just gonna wing it with an idea. Spoilers: It’s going to be apart of a future VergilLeon and Chreon A/B/O Dynamics Fic called: “Heir of Vergil”) 

“Chris, could you grab the candles over there?” Leon asked, “Your left...Chris, your other left.” 

The Alpha looked around the counter but gave an “Ah!” as he finally found what the Omega was looking for. Chris handed them over, careful not to bump into the bump growing on the front of the agent. Leon thanked him, placing the royal blue and gold “16” on top of the birthday cake. 

Claire came into the house with another empty tray, said tray having once been filled with snacks, “I think it’s cake time, cause we’re almost out of pizza and pretty soon those teenagers are going to eat the boxes. Especially Nero, because of his, well, gifted metabolism.” 

Jill came rushing into the house not too long after, informing Chris and Leon that they were officially out of pizza. Chris chuckled as he lifted the sheet cake, telling Leon to go ahead of him. Sherry and Jake rounded up the rambunctious teenagers, telling them it was time for cake and time to sing “Happy Birthday” to the birthday boy.  

Leon couldn’t believe how fast the years had gone by, unable to believe that Nero was sixteen years-old. That it had been sixteen years since Leon made that deal with Vergil back in Raccoon City...but he hadn’t come out of it empty-handed. The man helped him save Sherry and Claire, and then later Claire and Chris after praying for anyone or anything to give him the power and strength to help his friends and loved ones. He had managed to give Leon some of his invulnerability, strength, and speed when he marked him. Not only that...but all Leon had to do was give him an heir...a bouncing little boy who turned sixteen today.

The Omega smiled as they sang “Happy Birthday” to Nero, the white-haired teenager laughing as his friends, Nico and Kyrie, held him by the arms. Nico holding his left while Kyrie held his Demon looking arm, swaying him to the song. His other friends gathered around the table, singing along as Jake and Sherry led. 

Chris wrapped an arm around Leon, watching their son blow out the candles. Leon had to thank the Alpha, his mate now. Chris had come into his life when he was pregnant with Nero, having helped the older man locate his lost sister. It wasn’t until later on, when Claire had formally introduced them a couple years later, did he and the Alpha get together. 

Nero had been about four or so, and Leon had been a bit nervous due to how different Nero was from the average baby. Especially because Nero always had the Devil Arm and white hair and occasionally, especially during a tantrum, his little eyes would glow. Nonetheless, Chris loved the pup like Nero was his own, and Nero grew up most of his life with Chris as his Dad…

...until Nero turned ten and Vergil had visited for the first time in a long time. 

The half demon visited every Birthday since then, but never when there were crowds of people, so it wasn’t a surprise that Vergil wasn’t here now. The demon was probably waiting somewhere secluded until either everyone went home or...Leon shivered as a particularly cold breeze passed the pregnant Omega, causing him to hold his arms. He looked toward Nero, who’s eyes glowed blue for a moment before looking toward the house. Leon followed his gaze and turned back to look through the picture window, an ominous shadow standing in the living room,

He was already waiting in the house. 

“Mom?” Nero asked, his friends already digging into the cake, looking toward Leon, “I think...there’s someone in the house.” 

Leon nodded, telling Chris to wait there for a moment. Chris nodded, the Alpha already knowing who the figure inside was. The Omega called Nero, asking him if he would help him with something inside. Nero nodded and excused himself from the table, following after Leon. Chris told everyone else not to worry, that they just had to make sure the cat was inside and hadn’t gotten out. 

“Vergil?” Leon called, opening the back door and going in ahead of Nero, keeping the teen safely tucked behind him. The shadow wasn’t standing there anymore, “I know you’re in here...we saw you from outside...you here for your yearly visit?” 

“Would there be another reason to grace you both with my presence?” A cool voice said from the kitchen, Vergil standing against the counter and picking at the fruit sitting on the counter, glaring at the pizza boxes on the counter, “Humans...I never understood your infatuation with the high caloric and greasy foods.”

“It’s his sixteenth birthday and he wanted pizza.” Leon deadpanned, “I’m surprised you showed up when there are so many people outside.” 

“Yes, well. I am on a busy schedule.” Vergil hummed, pulling away from the counter before looking down at Leon’s stomach, “...I see you and Christopher have been busy...growing your little family.” 

“We have…” Leon said quietly. 

Vergil turned to Nero, “And what are your thoughts on this, son? To know that they’re going to replace you with a child that it both theirs?” 

“They’re not going to replace me.” Nero said, “Chris and Mom both love me and I’ve wanted a little brother or sister for a long time...and at least Chris stuck around for me when I was growing up.” 

“Nero.” Leon scolded lightly, Vergil simply laughing in amusement, “Vergil may not be the most...rational man, but he is still, biologically, your father.” 

“It’s fine, Leon.” Vergil said, waving the Omega off, “He’s allowed to speak his mind...and in response to your statement, Nero, I’ve better things to do than raise a child.” 

“Oh, yeah? Like what, asshole?” Nero asked angrily, eyes and arm glowing a menacing blue.

“Nero!” Leon scolded once more. 

Vergil smirked at the younger, calling him temperamental, much like the thick-headed Alpha outside. Leon gave him a look, asking him to just say “Happy Birthday” and to go back to whatever hole he crawled out of. 

Vergil approached them, Leon standing his ground as the Alpha towered over him and Nero both. He explained that he was not here to say Happy Birthday...but he was here out of the kindness of his heart. That he was here...because there were bigger threats coming, advising Nero to be wary of Kyrie...and telling Leon to not let Chris go to Mexico in pursuit of an arms dealer. When both questioned him, he told them both that he was not going to repeat himself. 

Nero pursued him, Leon right behind the teenager. Nero went to grab his father’s wrist, to demand to know what the hell he was talking about until Vergil turned and snatched him by his Devil Arm. Leon grabbed the chef’s knife from the drawer, switching his hands and holding it to the older man’s throat. 

“Let him go.” Leon growled. 

“You can’t kill me, Leon.” Vergil said softly, voice full of amusement, “But...I admire your enthusiasm.” 

“Let him go, Vergil.” Leon commanded once more, blade pushing against the man’s throat. 

Vergil looked from Nero to Leon, a smile creeping on to his lips once more, “...very well,” he sighed, letting Nero go, “He isn’t strong enough anyway.” 

Leon kept the knife pointed at him, pulling Nero behind him and shielding his son with his own body, “You said that the last time...what are you talking about? Not strong enough for what?” 

Vergil hummed, pulling away, but not before caressing Leon’s cheek with the back of his hand, seemingly admiring the Omega, “...in time...you’ll know.” Vergil looked to Nero, “...both of you.” 

With that, the Alpha disappeared in a cloud of smoke. 

Nero held his wrist, not in pain, but more so out of confusion. Leon checked him over, asking if he was hurt or if Vergil did something, but Nero shook his head. He asked the Omega what his father had been talking about, about the whole Kyrie and Chris going to Mexico thing, but Leon didn’t have an answer for him. Leon put the knife back in the drawer. Nero then asked if Vergil planned on taking him away from Leon and Chris.  

Leon gave him a sympathetic look, shaking his head as he pulled Nero into his chest, “No...I won’t let him. I promise.” 

“...What did you see in him to begin with? And why let him back into your life?” Nero asked, “Can’t be his charming personality.” 

Leon chuckled, “Believe it or not...he wasn’t always like this. Deep down...he’s still in there...and I know, had things been different...he would have stuck around for us. He plays it like he’s some cold-hearted bastard...but he cares.” 

It was just Vergil’s obsession with power and “becoming a god” that scared the Omega, and made him dread these visits. 

“C’mon,” Leon said, gently guiding Nero out of the kitchen, “Let’s go get some cake and open your presents.” 

[thedyingmoon]

💙 Chat Buddies ( ?! ) 💙

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Day 8 ( Part 2 )

***

~ At the same time when the ladies were having their conversation ~

- TheLegendarySavageDante added BangBangBang007 to the conversation. -

- TheLegendarySavageDante added Vergil Sparda to the conversation. -

- TheLegendarySavageDante changed the name of the group to ItsRainingMen!!!💪👊🕶 -

Vergil: What is the meaning of this?

Dante: Hey brother!

Nero: Dante tell him already!

N: Kyrie's gonna kill me if she finds out I'm in another group like this again!

D: Relax kid! You are in good hands

V: Tell me what exactly?

D: We're going on a trip to Paris! My treat!

D: My last client paid me real good for getting rid of the death scissors in her home!

V: Dante...

V: Was that the only thing you did to the client?

N: - sends a gif -

D: Whoah whoah whoah!

D: These hands are clean

D: Anyway, we're going there as soon as we all get ready!

V: Why Paris?

D: 😱

D: Brother!

D: Don't you know a thing about french women?!

V: What do I have to know about them?

N: 🙄

N: Leave me out of that will ya?

D: It's the guns!

V: Guns.

D: Ah you know!

D: 😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏

D: 💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦

V: Why am I not surprised...

D: And ur coming w/ me!

N: Hey!

N: I said leave me out!

V: I think it's probably best if I leave.

D: Nonononono!

D: Wait!

D: Nero could stay here w/ Kyrie or bring her with us if he wants

D: I'll hunt for my own french babe

D: And you brother dear

D: You could stay with Miss Sexy Babe!

D: *wink wink!

~ A few seconds later ~

D: Hey Verg you arent leaving us on seenzone here right?

V: Why do I have the feeling that you are planning something insidious?

D: 😮😱

D: Whoah!

D: Never!

D: Why would I?

D: Am I not a good brother to ya?

V: No.

D: Pfff!

D: Anyway!

D: Nero will stay at the hotel

D: I will find my french babe

V: You are just repeating yourself

V: ... scum.

D: Why? Don't you wanna be w/ (Y/N)?

D: She's really nice

D: 😏😏😏😏😏😏😏

V: What are you trying to imply?

D: Aww come on!

D: DONT TELL ME UR NOT AFFECTED BY HER LOOKS!

D: HER SEDUCTIVE VOICE!

D: HER THICCNESS!

V: ... thiccness.

D: Yeah! You know the drill Verg!

D: 👉👌

D: 💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦

D: *it's shag time!

D: ;)

N: You are disgusting

N: 🙄

D: Shut it deadweight

N: WHAT DID YOU SAY?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

V: If you must really know, true beauty could never be measured by what the eyes could see.

V: (Y/N)...

V: ... is more than what your meager brain could fathom of.

V: Her voice is not "seductive".

D: 😱

V: When she sings, she sounds like an angel.

D: Okay...

V: She does not only sound like an angel, she looks like one, as well.

N: Okay I know where this is going......

V: She's not "thiccness". She is grace.

V: She is majesty.

V: She is purity.

V: She is humility.

V: She is innocence.

V: She is gentleness incarnate.

V: She is...

V: ... passion.

D: Passion!

D: Exactly!

D: ;)

V: And don't you dare spam me with those "shag" emojis of yours, or else your blood shall spill on the ground soil once more.

D: Ok! Ok!

D: But!

D: Dont you wanna at least see her?

V: Well, I...

D: Ok! That's a yes!

D: Nero pack your bags!

V: DANTE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

V: I'M WARNING YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!

D: 😱

D: Relax Verg!

D: Ok

D: We'll give you time to think about it.

D: Adios!

N: 🙄

~ Later that night on HelpVergilGetMotivatedForAShag group chat ~

D: Ladies how did it go?

T: She's still confused.

L: She is! But at least we found out that she clearly likes Vergil!

L: And that she's!

L: 😱

D: What is it?

T: Ah here we go again.....

N: Hey, she's what?

L: You know!

L: 🍒

D: 😱

N: 😱

Nico: 😱

Ne: Oh hi Nico

Ni: Hey! Sorry I'm late but,...

Ni: 😱

L: 😱

D: 😱

Ne: 😱

Ni: 😏

L: 😏

D: 😏

Ne: 🙄

T: 🙄

T: What about on your side pizza head?

D: Eh, he's so obvious.

D: He wants to shag her

T: Oh my goodness.....

Ne: Wait is that what he said?

D: But he's so stubborn! Doesn't want to admit that he wants to see her!

L: (Y/N) too.

D: We need a plan B

D: We have to get those 2 to admit their feelings already!

L: How do we do that?

D: We need more spice!

Ni: 😮

Ne: What is it Nico?

Ni: 😏

T: Why do I have a bad feeling about this?

Ni: I think I have the most wonderful fool - proof plan!

Ni: 😎

D: Ok!

D: Let's hear it.

~ The ( no ) braincells have finally made their move! Will they be able to get Vergil Sparda and SSSexy(Y/N) together? Is their budget really enough for a trip to France? And most importantly,... what is this wonderful fool - proof plan that VirtuosoGoldstein.45 was talking about? Find out,... on the next chapter! ~

***

💙💙💙

***

[sevi007]

Gifted to @rex101111 and @fuckoland, for always listening to my ideas and giving me that last little push of confidence I so often need when writing. Thank you both so much. =D

Spoilers for DMC 5

Summary: Finding a way back to himself, back to his brother, and out of Hell - Vergil learns that those had been the easier parts of his new journey. Because redemption is not simply offered on a silver plate, and bonds take time to forge. But Nero might just be worth all of that.

Warnings: Uh, swearing, cause it’s Nero, and probbaly a bit OOC-ness on Vergil’s side (first time writing him, and he’s a difficult fella, I tell you)

Word Count: 7227

                                ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ D ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Fortuna.

Of all the places he had been to in his life, this city was not one he had expected to return to one day, with his business here finished and other goals to be chased.

Ah, but you didn’t think you would return to anything, a tiny voice in his mind mocked, sounding suspiciously like the croak of a bird. Didn’t think you would come back from this last fight, did’cha, boy?

Vergil scowled into the sky before him, banning the voice – memory, ghost, whatever it was – back into his subconsciousness. No more of this. I woke up from you.

Part of him expected a reply still. Waited for the flutter of wings, the pressure of claws on his shoulder, mocking and taunting in his ear. It didn’t come. Of course it didn’t, he told himself sternly, that part of him was gone, chased away like dark dreams in the morning sun.

 The only noise left behind was the avid chatter and laughter drifting up from the garden stretched down below. People talking over each other, laughing together. The sound of cutlery being set on tables, glasses clinking and chairs and tables being pushed together to make room for everyone, interspersed with easy chats.

Below him, life continued on, as if nothing had happened. As if they hadn’t all been in danger of being wiped of this earth mere months ago.

Easy companionship. High spirits. Celebrating their return from Hell, had been said, but he had the hunch that these people did not really need a reason to sit together and celebrate, if they felt like it.

 Nero had seemed at ease in the middle of things. Not as open and enthusiastic about it as the girl (Kyrie, Vergil recalled, the name not easily forgotten due to her very resolute reception of him upon his return). But still, the young man had easily greeted the various people who had showed up, accepting hugs and pats readily, striking up conversations freely.

It shouldn't have been a surprise. The boy considered these people friends, most of them family, even.

Vergil, on the other hand, must have counted for neither of those options.

 He had left (not fled, never fled, he told himself) the scene at the earliest chance, when not too many people had been looking. Had chosen the highest point of the house’s roof as his refuge, to watch attentively and think.

Bright blue eyes had followed him, he knew, had all but burned into his back, but he had ignored it. If his brother wanted something from him, he would find him. Not even the deepest depths of hell or the highest point of a cursed tree had stopped his brother before. A roof would be a joke in comparison.

 A deep voice started a sing-song right behind him, words full of mockery and taunt, “Vergil, Vergil, sitting on a roof, K-I-S-S-I-…”

Speak of the devil.

“If you keep that up,” Vergil warned without even turning around. “I will stab you. Again.”

“Aaaah,” Dante nodded wisely while he dropped beside his brother, legs dangling dangerously over the edge for the blink of an eye until he shifted and settled. Sprawled out leisurely, he flapped a hand at the other. “Still pissed cuz I one-upped you, I see.”

“Your counting is getting worse. I am currently leading.”

“Pfffft, sure, bro, sure.”

 A fall from the roof, Vergil reflected, would sadly not do his twin any harm, even if he put all his strength into giving him a much needed push.

“Did you want something, Dante?”

Dante hummed non-committally, lounging so close to the edge it was a miracle gravity didn’t take hold of him yet. He didn’t start talking – which, probably, was the most ironic thing the more talkative of the two could have done.

Finally, Vergil’s finger already twitching as he went over the idea with the push again, Dante spoke up. “You know, I would have figured you would at least try before running again.”

Pretense would not work, not on him, but Vergil tried, anyway, eyes closing as he summoned whatever calmness he still had left. “No one is running from anything, dear brother.”

“Dear brother. You only call me that when you’re seriously out of it. And you don’t even mean it.”

“I do wonder why that is.”

“So, you’re running,” Dante ignored the comment which dripped with sarcasm, going in for the kill instead, “Because how I see it is - you’re up here, and the kid is down there, so do tell me how you guys are gonna talk this out?”

 Of course. Vergil closed his eyes for a moment. Suddenly, the prospect of a trusty nightmare at his side was more enticing than having his twin here instead. Then again, there was not much difference between the two. “What should we talk out, in your opinion?”

“Hm, let me think about that…,” Dante drawled. “Right. Perhaps that he’s your son? Happy Father’s Day, by the way. I think you missed a few of those in the last years.”

“You are simply stating a fact. There is nothing to discuss about it.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Vergil, I thought we talked about this - at least give the kid a chance to get to know you, you stubborn asshole.”

Avoiding the other’s gaze when he could all but taste the disappointment in his words was no longer possible, and Vergil glanced over, feeling horribly tired. “I am not who he remembers.”

“Well, yeah,” Dante stared back at him, slightly askance, fully exasperated. “Not much he could remember, with you being phenomenally absent for… eh. All his life?”

The urge to snap And whose fault is that? was there, clawing at his insides like a living beast. Vergil swallowed it down, forced himself to think No.

 He had been the one too blind, not Dante. He had been the one to jump head first, without thinking of what exactly he was possibly leaving behind.

It had taken him breaking apart to put together what mistakes he had made. He would not forget again.

 One breath, two, three, and the urge subsided. He was getting better at ignoring that old, bitter part of himself which tried to convince him everything was his twin’s fault. A reflex honed over years, and not easily unlearned now. He fought to banish it, dispatching it every day a bit more, with each interaction with his… his family.

Family.

That particular word would take some time to get used to.

 Dante was still watching him, expectant and accusing at the same time, he knew, yet Vergil didn’t meet his gaze. There was nothing he could say in his defense, and the only explanation for his statement was one Dante wouldn’t understand.

He didn’t even understand it fully, himself. He only knew that there was… something. Something which was his, but not quite. Memories in his mind, fuzzy things, like a nice dream he once had and now couldn’t recall clearly. A part of him that remembered a helping hand, a shoulder offered to lean on, a now-familiar becoming voice reminding him to rest, to take it easy. Remembered the relief that came with it, with having someone to count on, to trust.

There was a man who remembered Nero as something more than a stranger.

 (- “V you gotta rest” - )

 (- “I guess I owe you one.” -)

 (- the tool, the last hope, the boy, Nero, Nero-)

 (Why had his first thought upon reassembling the halves of his very being been to thank this boy, someone who had been a stranger to him then? It had been there, the words right on the tip of his tongue, stronger than the old urge to win and proof himself right. His heart had beat and beat and beat, each thrum a whisper of You remember him, you do, you do…)

 But he wasn’t that man anymore. He didn’t remember. Not really. Not himself.

Tche, and not gonna do anything about that, are ya?

This time, his hand nearly twitched upwards to shove someone off his shoulder – before he noticed there was nothing to shove at. No feathers nor claws, no sharp beak pecking him for trying.

Deliberately, he lowered his hand again, balling it into a fist to keep it where it was.

 If Dante had noted his sudden movement, he did not to comment on it. Instead the younger rolled around with a grunt, away from the edge, and stood in a way that somehow managed to be casual yet graceful. Stretching with a loud yawn, Dante squinted into the setting sun for a moment – only to turn and kick his brother in the lower back. Hard. “That’s for being an obstinate asshole.”

Vergil grunted, glared, but didn’t so much as budge or fight back. “Obstinate. I’m surprised you even know what that means.”

The grin Dante sent him back was more teeth than anything else, eyes a hard glint to them. “Good thing the kid is better in this whole family department than we both are, jackass. He isn’t going to let you off the hook that easily.”

 It took Vergil a second to make the connection, and once he did, he nearly cursed out loud, out of character as it was. Head swiveling around, he did indeed catch sight of the young man standing at a distance, balanced on top of the roof as if gravity didn’t concern him, hands shoved into his pockets and watching the twins with a slight frown.

Nero noticed his gaze and lifted a hand in greeting after an awkward, fidgety pause. He stood ramrod straight, shoulders tense and clearly uncomfortable – but also like someone on a mission, not ready to back down a single step, jaw set and head held high.  

 Vergil hadn’t felt him coming, much less heard, too caught up in the presence of his twin… which probably had been the plan all along.

Much to his displeasure, Dante proved to be immune to his death glare, shrugging at him. “Told you. Not off the hook.”

“You just can’t mind your own business, can you.”

“You knew that already,” and then, all casualness was gone. Dante moved with the speed of a striking demon, too fast for the human eye, and all of sudden he was there, right in Vergil’s space, hand on his twin’s shoulder like a vice, forehead to forehead, blue boring into blue. “Listen up here, Vergil – no idea what’s going on in that head of yours, but Nero is not me. He is not you. I learned that the hard way, and you will have to learn that, too. So whatever got you all stuck up about this; get over it, and quick. You’re not gonna get an endless amount of chances, capisce? You already got a lot more than others did. ”

Instinctively and beyond his control, Vergil tried to avoid the gaze burning into his, only to find that it was impossible, partly because of the hand on his shoulder like a steel shackle, partly because of the sheer intensity in those eyes. Trapped and backed into a corner, he ground out between clenched teeth, “I know that.”

“Oh, good.”

In the blink of an eye, Dante had backed off again, rocking back with the biggest grin on his face, hands put on his hip as if nothing had happened just now. A quick glance over to Nero – the younger still kept a respectful distance, staring off into the distance now as if this did not concern him – and Dante got serious again, voice low, “Like I said – he’s better at this than we are. He’s better than you. Better than me. So get a move on and try, you deadbeat of a father.”

Then, softer, but no less stern. “He deserves it. Don’t fuck this up, Verge.”

 With one last salute, mocking through and through, Dante turned and wandered off, leaving Vergil behind to comprehend everything that had been flung at him. Dimly, the older of the two noted how Dante stopped when he reached Nero, clapping the younger on the shoulder with a bright grin. A quick conversation, an eyeroll from Nero followed by an elbow into the elder’s rips, answered with a loud, bellowing laugh from the man. Then they separated again, pushing past each other gently.

Dante jumped off the roof without looking back once.

 Vergil turned to look out over the city again (not much had changed, he noted, even if his memory of it was blurred and apparently the place had seen some rebuilding after demon attacks).

He made a point out of not looking, not checking what Nero would do. Cursing to himself for getting tricked into this so easily.

Quiet footsteps resounded, firm, not hesitating. They stopped next to him, before Nero lowered himself to sit beside him, feet dangling over the edge.

 They sat in silence for a while, Nero’s gaze wandering down to the group in the garden, then over the city that had been his home all his life.

Then, finally, the younger spoke up, “You didn’t come over to greet us.”

Teeth grinding together for a second (not even straight to the point), Vergil tightened his shoulders, pulling himself up straight. “There were enough others to do so.”

“Right. Sure. So, what now? You avoiding your own party?”  

“This party has nothing to do with me.”

“Yeah?” Now there was sharpness to Nero’s voice, even though he had tried to sound casual before. “The whole thing is about celebrating you guys getting back out of Hell alive. Would think that does concern you.”

Something cracked inside of Vergil – too many people trying to talk to him when all he wanted was silence to sort his thoughts, too many suspicious looks, too many voices in his mind not his own, too many decisions to make – and he snapped, ice lacing his words, “And me being alive is something to celebrate for you, yes?”  

“After I busted my ass off to keep you dumbasses alive?” Nero’s voice had risen for a second, before he seemed to remember that there where people down there who could hear him. Obviously restraining himself through sheer willpower alone, he finished in a hiss, “Yes, dammit, it is.”

 It should have made him angry, this child speaking in such a manner to him. The flaming gaze and bared teeth and balled fists should have put him on defense.

Surely, Vergil reflected, angry and confused at himself, surely this simple, angrily thrown out statement shouldn’t have made him feel relieved.

 (You remember him, you do, you do…)

 He closed his eyes against the heady, unfamiliar rush of emotions, willing them back, back into a heart that beat stronger and steadier than it had in years, demanding to be heard in a way he hadn’t felt in decades.

Better get this over with, before he did something stupid, Vergil thought – and took the leap. “If you have something to say, then speak.”

 “I still think you’re a damn asshole.”

 The words were quick, blurted out in such a rush as if they had wanted to come out of their own volition. For a second, Nero himself looked as if he was surprised by his outburst, before he frowned, turning away. He talked to the skyline instead, probably unaware of the way Vergil stared at the back of his head as he went. “I mean… fuck. Fuck, you cut my damn arm off! And you tried to kill Dante, who… who tries to kill their own brother?! That’s not even all you did – fuck, you, just – fuck you, okay?! Fuck you, for all the shit you tried to pull. But, Dante, me… You did that to your own family, you dick, you don’t just… you don’t just do that. Okay? It’s fucked up, that’s what it is. You’re fucked up.”

Silence settled between them, charged and heated, only interrupted by Nero’s heavy breathing, as if the young man had just fought a tough battle and was out of breath for it.

 Then, just when Vergil had half a mind to up and leave (clearly, the boy had said what he had to say know, right, this was it, this was over) Nero breathed in deeply, a hitching sound, before letting it out again in a hiss. When he spoke, his shoulders had lost some of their tension, and he seemed to ponder something. “But… like a friend of mine said not too long ago… without you, I wouldn’t be here. You’re my family. And I know there’s more to you than all that.”

 Too late, much too late, did Vergil realize that Nero’s gaze had dropped to something in the younger’s hand, gripped tightly but carefully.

All his anger evaporated as he caught sight of it - the old, slightly battered book gleamed golden in the light of the setting sun. A soft spot left wide open for all to see.

No.

Left in good, caring hands.

 (- “Hold onto that until then” -)

 As if sensing the elder’s gaze, Nero snapped up and around – eyes so bright they were nearly luminous, brows furrowed, the book raised like a weapon. A proof. Voice like steel, he repeated, “I know there is more to you.”

They stared at each other, blue into blue, nothing between them apart from a book and a decision. Nero looked like he dared him to disagree, to deny what he had just said.

Vergil found that he couldn’t do so.

 And finally, when the denial didn’t come, Nero seemed to come to a decision. Nodding to himself, he all but jabbed a finger of his free hand against Vergil’s chest, not heading the fact that the older didn’t budge and merely lifted a quizzical eyebrow at him.

“So this is how this show is going to go from now on – you fucked up big time. And I saved your ass more than once. You owe me,” there was a hint of knowing and smugness in Nero’s expression, and Vergil had a sense of déjà-vu, since that looked all too familiar, “You said so yourself. In fact, I would say you owe me several times over, asshole. That’s one ripped off arm, at least two times I saved your sorry ass, and I’m pretty sure there’s more. Would say that means you have some redeeming to do.

And you will,” now, Nero’s voice was sharp and unforgiving, eyes blazing as he jabbed again, not minding the twitch in Vergil’s face. “Because, again – you owe me.”

 For a moment, Vergil was struck speechless. There would have been a time, once, when this young one talking to him in such a way would have made him furious, would have had anger roar inside of him like wildfire.

It didn’t come, this time. Because the boy was right. He did owe him, had said so himself. If he broke his word now, Vergil knew with certainty, then he would never get another shot at… this. At getting to know Nero, the person he had caught glimpses off and had been proud of.

And that person - his son - wouldn’t let him off the hook, not that easily.

 Vergil felt a smirk stretch over his face, respect and amusement flickering inside him. “Did you already plan on how this… redemption is supposed to go, as well?”

Narrowing his eyes, Nero mulled the answer over, the gaze sweeping over his opposite calculating. Finally, he snorted, leaning back and crossing his arms, chin raised. “You’re going to help with the rebuilding of Red Grave City, for starters. I don’t care how – if you send money for repairs over or fucking lay bricks yourself to rebuild, your decision. That destruction was your fault, and you will make up for that.”

His breath was momentarily knocked out of Vergil at the prospect of having to see that city again – roots of his he had believed to be unrooted now – before he nodded jerkily, teeth clenched.

Satisfaction gleamed in Nero’s eyes. He seemed to grow surer about this the longer the other didn’t disagree. “Next of – fucking stop trying to kill Dante.”

“That,” Vergil pointed out, almost mildly, “we have already stopped.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, don’t start it again. It’s bullshit, and I would just have to beat you guys up again,” Nero waved it off, clearly disinterested in hearing any more about it. Missing the way Vergil’s lips twitched into a grin for the blink of an eye. “And – turn it down with the asshole attitude. Not saying you gotta become a damn saint here, but nobody here is trying to slit your throat in your sleep, so stop acting like it.”

There was probably no point in telling the younger that he wasn’t all that sure if nobody ever at least felt the urge to do just that to him, so Vergil simply nodded mutely in response to that before, “Anything else?”

 “A lot, probably,” Nero answered without missing a beat. “We will see about that when we get there.”

Vergil huffed, amused despite himself.

Nero looked him up and down again, considering. Then his posture relaxed slightly, forearms resting easily on his knees, shoulders slumping. “You’re actually not complaining about it.”

“Would it change anything?” A frown pulling at his expression, Vergil rolled his eyes. The quiet awe in Nero’s voice about that fact did not feel good at all. Had he not thought that Vergil would at least try?

“Nah. Just thought you would try to bargain at least.”

“I do not bargain about things,” Vergil frowned at the thought – well, perhaps there had been times where he should have done so. “I face what comes my way.”

“Head first through walls, huh?”

“I’ve been told I can be stubborn before, if you meant to imply that.”

At that, Nero laughed, quiet and deep. It was a surprisingly joyful sound nonetheless, and touched something in Vergil that he had thought long gone.  

 When Nero looked back up, past him and upwards, he was fully relaxed, eyes crinkling in silent amusement. “Hey, I just thought about something else you could do.”

Barely holding back a groan – did the younger have a list of deeds for him? – Vergil tilted his head in the other’s direction, signaling he was listening.

Nero kept his gaze on the sky above them, biting down on a smirk while he scratched his nose, pretending to think. “You know, I could use some help doing the dishes later.”

Vergil could feel his eyebrow twitching up in obvious surprise before he could stop it – the lapse in his expression clearly noted, since Nero’s smirk widened. At least his voice was still under his control, flat and cool as he more stated than asked, “The dishes.”

“You heard me.”

“You are not serious.”

“This is how I sound when I’m serious. You better get used to it real quick.” Nero must have noticed the disbelief on Vergil’s face, for he smirked, shoulders moving in what could have been a tiny shrug or suppressed laughter. “You did see how many people we invited, right? And Dante eats for three. There’s going to be a lot of dishes, and I’m not gonna do it alone.”

 Vergil could only stare at this curious young man (son, family, his), who surely must be mocking him right now.

Who could have, should have put him down, should have torn into him, should have- he should have hated him.

The younger could have asked anything of him, in his debt as he was.

And he asked him to do inane chores.

 “He’s better than you. Better than me.”

 Was that… was that an offering? A chance?  

His mind drew blank as to what he should do with this information, this turn of events.

 “Don’t fuck this up, Verge.”

 The rest of him, however, seemed to know, deep down. There was a mixture of warmth and something else, bright and strong, spreading through him, curling gently in his chest as if to stay there permanently.

Vergil didn’t feel like analyzing it. Not right now, at least.

 He closed his eyes, tilted his face towards the setting sun. For the first time since taking this place high above the buzzing, lively group down in the garden, he felt the warmth on his face, the breeze caressing through his hair. Free enough of the thoughts repeating over and over in his head that he could pay attentions to the world around him again.

“Very well, then,” he conceded at last.

“Yeah?” He couldn’t see it, but the smirk in Nero’s voice palpable. “Alright, sweet. Counting on you.”

 This time, the silence that settled between them held no anger, only a sense of calm.

Only to be interrupted from an outside source a minute later.

 “GUYS!”

 They both looked down to see Nico waving up at them with one arm, her free hand cupped before her mouth as a makeshift megaphone.

“What?!” Nero bellowed back.

“GET DOWN HERE, FOOD IS GONNA BE READY SOON!”

“If it’s not ready yet, there’s no need to yell at us already!”

“MOVE YOUR ASS, YOU HANDSOME DEVIL!”

 “I told you not to call me that,… oh fuck’s sake,” Nero sighed, even though it didn’t sound sincere, and rock back and forth to push himself to his feet in one fluid motion. Clapping some dust off, he hesitated, gaze flickering down to where Vergil was still sitting. “You, ah. You coming?”

Gesturing vaguely, Vergil shook his head. “In a minute.”

“Suit yourself. But I’m not bringing you any food up here.”

It was a good thing Nero had already turned away, else he might have caught the little upwards twitch of Vergil’s lips in response.

 Vergil, however, saw full well how Nero gingerly, almost tenderly, held the book full of poems against his chest as he made to leave, thumb caressing over the thin spine mindlessly.

It was a kind of care Vergil remembered clearly, from days long gone – days spent in libraries and bookshops, surrounded and soothed by bound pages and written words. And the books he had been most careful with had been those… Those he knew and loved.

“You read it.”

The question – statement – seemed to throw Nero for a second. He turned, gaze following that of the older back to the book, and realization dawned. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips (tugged at Vergil’s loud, demanding heart) as he ducked his head a little.

Scratching his cheek, Nero shook his head, “Didn’t finish. Missing a few poems yet.”

He must have misread something in Vergil’s expression, since he coughed lightly, scratching again, not meeting the other’s eyes. “I might have read a few of them multiple times. That takes time, okay.”

A quick glance over at the older, then Nero frowned, seeming to realize something. “What, you want it back? I mean, it’s yours, so…”

“Keep it.”

 Nero halted in his movement, the hand offering the book halfway extended, eyebrows arched. Staring.

Vergil wasn’t much better off, surprised that he heard himself speak so quickly, so thoughtlessly. He clucked his tongue – at himself or Nero, he wasn’t sure – and gestured at the book between them. “Missing a few, you said. You should not leave things unfinished. It does not… seem to be your style.”

A beat, two… then something flickered over Nero’s face, the shift too quick for Vergil to analyze. Eyes narrowing then widening, before a slow, warm smile stretched over the young man’s face, growing into a crooked grin.

 (It was the first time he had the younger see truly smile in his vicinity, part of Vergil noted.)

 “Yeah, well,” Nero said, slowly, smile still there and softening his expression into something warm and open. He pulled the book back, safely tucking it into his jacket again. “Guess I inherited a stubborn streak from someone. Don’t do well with giving up halfway through.”

Processing that for a second, Vergil huffed, shaking his head as he turned away from the younger. “I see.”

Retreating steps could be heard, and Nero called over his shoulder. “Don’t let the food get cold.”

 Vergil waited until he sensed that he had been left alone on the roof, before allowing himself to breathe out, deep and slow.

His heart beat steady and strong.

No urge to blame, to fight, to leave. No drive to chase after faraway goals.

Only quiet and peace.

                               ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ D ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Maybe his disappearance hadn’t gone as unnoticed as he had thought, since there where very obvious reactions once Vergil tried to slip back into the middle of things without being seen. People fell silent in the middle of their sentence, heads turned and gazes followed him about.

 Opting to ignore them, he straightened and made his way past them, keeping his attention on getting something to eat. Behind him, the conversations picked up again, yet he could feel the prickle of being watched every now and then, the hairs at his neck rising under the scrutiny, skin feeling itchy and tight due to it.

He didn’t let it show, didn’t let it deter him. Used the satisfied little curl of Nero’s lips once the younger spotted him in the crowd as his guide instead.

At least to the young man, he was welcome here. That would have to be enough for now.

 He walked along the table that obviously served as the buffet, almost buckling under its load of an assortment of different food. Passing the stack of pizza cartons, smirk twitching around his lips at the sight, he halted, considered his options, and settled on some pasta, filling one of the plates at hand to the brim much like he had seen the other guests do.

For a moment, he almost forgot about the people around him, until a soft voice addressed him. “Vergil?”

 A gentle hand on his elbow, the touch soft and light, stopped him in his tracks, more efficiently than any foe could ever had. He dropped his gaze to the fingers resting on him – asking for attention, not demanding, not restricting – and followed the length of the slender arm, up to Kyrie’s face.

She was smiling, eyes soft and warm with… amusement, of all the things. “I just wanted to tell you - don’t mind what Nero said.”

Alerted, Vergil narrowed his eyes at her, pondering what she could have heard of their conversation. It had not been all that personal, yet still it was… more than he felt comfortable with, to share with a stranger.

Kyrie blinked, before she laughed, raising a hand to her mouth to smother it. “Oh, no, I wasn’t listening in! I meant about the help with the dishes. Nero told me about it. You don’t have to do that of course - you’re our guest, after all.”

 She didn’t mention any of the other demands Nero had made, even though Vergil was suddenly very sure that she knew about those, too. Even to him, it had been clear how close those two were, how much his son counted on the strong partner by his side, and vice versa.

Yet it was not her place to discuss those with him, and she knew that as well. He felt a sudden respect for this young woman well up in him, impressed by her loyalty to Nero.

 Shoulders relaxing minutely, Vergil was about to answer, when it abruptly occurred to him that she had read his thoughts easily that, simply from his expressions. How curious and… confusing. Carefully schooling his face back into a neutral expression, voice quiet, he murmured lowly, “It is of… it is no trouble.”

Of no matter, seemed wrong, he reflected, for it felt like it did, simple a task as it was.

Kyrie examined his expression, pursing her lips – only to start smiling again after a moment. “Alright, if you say so…”

“Hm.”

“… then, thank you in advance.”

The hand on his arm squeezed lightly before she pulled away, turning to survey the buffet. Taking up a plate and selecting a menu for herself, she smiled one last time at him, looking him straight in the eye, clearly happy when he inclined his head ever so slightly at her. And then she was gone again, easily weaving through people who made way for her.

Vergil watched her reach Nero at the other side of the garden. Watched still as Kyrie rose to her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to the man’s cheek, causing a bright smile to stretch over his face while he leaned down to murmur something into her ear, causing loud, happy laughter to echo over the little crowd. Was still watching as Kyrie picked something of her plate to offer it for Nero to eat…

 Something old and long forgotten steered in Vergil’s memory –peaceful days, when father had come back home, carrying with him presents and tales. Mother’s eyes that had shone bright with laughter as her husband lifted her and twirled her around. Evenings spent curled together, four bodies all but wrapped around each other while father’s deep voice told them stories of places far away, and mother’s laughing protests when the stories got too adventurous and bloody rang out, even though the twins had fake-pouted for more.

This… this little scene he was witnessing here was a private scene, achingly familiar and yet something he was a stranger to. Suddenly feeling like an intruder, Vergil resolutely turned his back on the pair and walked away, aiming for the table that had been set up in a corner of the garden.

 Much to his displeasure – at least he told himself so – Dante had already found his way to the table as well. Feet kicked up onto a corner of the wooden surface, arms crossed behind his head and rocking dangerously on the back legs of the chair, his twin grinned up way too smugly at him as he approached. “What did I catch back there? You, doing chores?”

Not dignifying with an answer what the other obviously knew already, Vergil picked a seat nearly at the opposite end of the table, getting comfortable.

“Kid must really have kicked your ass if you agreed to that.”

“He had good arguments to base his demands on. In fact, this part was the easiest one,” Vergil relented, ducking his head to hide his own smirk as Dante laughed at that. “He will make me work for it.”

“As he should. Good kid.”

Nothing in Dante’s voice gave the feeling as if he was joking with that comment, only fondness and respect audible when one listened close enough – knew him well enough.

And Vergil found himself agreeing with it. There would be a lot to do and atone for, yet… the reward might just be worth it. He considered the situation he found himself in in silence for a while, and came to a conclusion. “… I will. Work for it, that is.”

Will work to make it right, was left unsaid.

“Yeah?” Dante tilted his head to look at his twin, blinking in surprise, then grinned brightly and turned away again. “Good for him. For you both.”

“Hm-hm.”

 “Would you look at these guys,” an amused voice cut between them, both twins turning as Trish approached, carrying a glass and nothing else with her. “They started without us.”

“Rude,” announced Lady, skipping past the blonde woman and around the table to look for a seat herself. “Must run in the family.”

“Okay, you take that back,” Nero shot back, snorting to himself as he observed the table. Behind him, the rest of the guests followed. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Fine, leaving you out of this one.”

“Thank you so much.”

 “Okay, just to make this clear,” Dante announced, letting his chair fall back into a horizontal position  and leaning over the table to accept the plate Kyrie handed him with a cheeky wink and mischievous grin. “I want a new, clean plate for every pizza I eat. No cartons. We got to give Mister Dishwasher here something to do.”

Vergil looked up from his plate just enough to send another inefficient glare in his twin’s direction. He received a toothy grin for his troubles. Figures.

“Dante, don’t be a di-…,” Nero stopped himself, eyes flickering to Kyrie who hid a smile behind her hand, before he turned back to scowl at Dante, “Don’t. Just, don’t.”

“Aw com’ on, kid…”

“No.”

“It’s just fun! Good ol’ fun between…”

“I’m going to punch you again, old man.”

Dante closed his mouth abruptly with a quiet click of teeth, leaning back with his plate and one hand raised in surrender.

 The gesture of submission drew a bout of laughter from the people around them. Trish was grinning so brightly it must have hurt, and Lady was hooting with mirth. Even Kyrie was shaking with barely withheld laughter.

Morrison wiped away at tear before clapping Nero on the back, who looked up a bit perplexed, but ultimately grinned back. “Kid, I’ve never seen someone shut this guy down like that. Respect!”

“Hey, his bitch slaps hurt!” Dante protested. “Nearly killed me with that one!”

“Oh god,” Lady sniffled, still giggling. “I wish I could have seen that.”

“Nero, next time, give us a call beforehand,” Trish added, hand on Nero’s elbow as she leaned over to him. “We have to see that.”

“Sure, deal.”

“Probably went like…,” Nico imitated being slapped in the face and falling over with dramatic flailing, earning another round of laughter. She resurfaced with one hand propped on the table, laughing so hard she was nearly crying. “S-Sorry, sorry, that was just too good to pass up.”

“Okay, okay, we get it, punching me in the face is funny ….”

“It is,” Nero interrupted, eyes dancing with laughter. “It really is.”

Glowering at the younger, Dante stuffed a slice of pizza whole into his mouth, chewing near defiantly on it. The muttered “Punk.” was almost lost in cheese and tomato sauce.

 “Alright, boys, no more fighting,” Kyrie announced, hands on her hips, fondness in her voice and smile on her lips. “We will enjoy our dinner together in peace.”

“Hear, hear!”

“That peace is gonna last two minutes, max.”

“The lady of the house has spoken, everybody shove some food into your mouth and shut up.”

“I can do that.”

“We know you can.”

“Was that a jab at my healthy appetite?”

“Nothing healthy about that, old friend.”

 The chatter started up again easily, quips and jabs flying left and right, gentle shoves and punches being dished out while everyone laughed and talked over each other, all the while taking seats and getting comfortable. In all the ruckus, it seemed to be forgotten that one of them was more stranger than friend, the good mood and company easing any suspicion for the time being.

Vergil found himself sandwiched between Dante’s old partner Morrison, who nodded at him before turning around to strike up a conversation with Trish, and Nico, who was so caught up in explaining a new gun to Lady she didn’t even seem to notice who sat on her other side, exactly. Dante was talking with his mouth full, getting whacked over the head by Trish for it and laughing, the sound muffled, looking unapologetic to boot. A few of the children living with Nero and Kyrie were still running around the table, laughing loudly, rushing from one of the adults to the other to ask for stories about their demon hunting adventures.

 It was an absolute mess, and noisier than Hell itself, but the urge to stand up and leave for peace and quiet never came, much to Vergil’s surprise. Deciding that was just as well, he tasted a bit of the food before him.

He actually had to pause and savor the bite for a second, flavors bursting on his tongue. He couldn’t remember when he had last eaten anything this savory.

 “Hey, can anyone pass the pepper?” Nero’s voice rose above the ruckus, but he was still mostly unheard, everyone too caught up in something else.

It wasn’t even a conscious move, but Vergil had already reached out and handed the item across the table to his opposite before it really registered with him, making him pause in the middle of it.

Nero looked just as perplexed as he felt for the blink of an eye. Then surprise made way for a crooked grin as he accepted the shaker “Thanks… father.”

Vergil didn’t find any words to offer, mouth suddenly dry as his gaze met Nero’s, the same blue eyes as his own looking back at him without any sort of resentment – simply warmth.

 There would be a lot to do and atone for, and yet… yet…

The reward would be so, so worth it.  

 “So,” Nico piped up, startling both men out of their silence and then drawing the attention of everyone towards her. “Are we supposed to do a toast at this kind of thing? Like, hey real neat that you didn’t die or somethin’?”

“You have a way with words,” Nero grumbled, leaning back. There was still a smile stuck in a corner of his mouth, and he couldn’t seem to stop it.

“Ah, you’re one to talk, smartass.”

“I think a toast is a great idea,” Kyrie interrupted the argument before it could even start. Raising her glass, she offered, “To Dante and Vergil?”

“Aw, don’t make me blush, kiddo,” Dante gave back, fluttering his eyelashes that made Trish snort loudly next to him. “How about – good to be back?”

“Still alive and kicking!” Lady offered, raising her own glass.

“To new beginnings?”

“To being too though to die!”

“To good food.”

 “To family.”

 Heads turned, surprised gazes straying to Nero, who held his glass high above his head, looking somewhere between amused and embarrassed.

“That’s a great idea,” Kyrie agreed, sending a soft smile his way that made Nero’s shoulder relax visibly.

 “Yes.”

Vergil didn’t blink as all those gazes now snapped towards him, openly staring at him as if nobody could believe that this single word had just come out of his mouth. He ignored them, focused fully on Nero opposite of him as he reached over and lifted his own glass to tip it towards the younger in silent acknowledgement.

The smile on Nero’s face widened, bright and sincere, and all the perplexed staring in the world could stop Vergil from feeling his heart grew lighter than it had been since he was a child.

 It was Dante who spoke next, breaking the silence and bafflement by declaring, swinging his own glass up. “Best idea I’ve heard in a long while. To family!”

That seemed to break the spell over the group, and everyone laughed, cheered, agreed with bright smiles on their faces as they reached for their own glasses. Somewhere next to Vergil, Nico announced “You guys are gonna make me cry” and Nero laughed loudly at that, head thrown back, and even Vergil smiled, unseen in all the commotion.

 “To family!”

“Yeah!”

“CHEERS!”

 Their combined voices, united in one bright, happy shout, could be heard over half the city.

[etlunainmorte]

💙 I See My Future Before Me 💙

***

“Hello?”

“Kyrie, it’s me.”

“Nero! Oh, thank God, you’re alright!”

“How are things there?”

“I’ve heard Fortuna’s in complete ruins now because of the Dreadnought and its horde. But, we’re safe here. You don’t have to worry about us.”

“Glad to hear that.”

“Yes.”

…

“Nero?”

“Hmm?”

“Is,… something bothering you?”

“Ah,… nothing.”

“Hmm,…”

“Haha. It’s nothing. Really.”

“Nero, I can tell something’s wrong, even if we’re thousands of miles apart. I love you, and you know you can always tell me anything. I’m here for you.”

…

“Kyrie,…”

“I’m listening.”

“What will you do if,…”

“Hmm?”

“Well, let’s say you confessed your,… ah,… feelings for me.”

“Yes. And?”

“And,… ah,… I rejected you. Like, badly. Like, not even friend zone. What will you do?”

“Hmm, to tell you the truth, I can’t imagine you doing that to me. But, if that happens, well,…”

“Well?”

“Of course, I would definitely get hurt. A lot. Nothing hurts more than a special someone, a loved one, pushing you away from their life. My heart would be shattered to pieces, and I would feel like my existence won’t matter anymore.”

“Whoa! The existence part is too much!”

“Ah, you don’t understand, Nero. Girls’ feelings are delicate. They may act tough but, deep inside, their heart is dying. No matter how much they struggle against the sadness, eventually it will come back and haunt them. It’s like a sickness, being heartbroken. And it’s very hard to heal.”

“Oh. How do they, uh, cope? They can’t stay like that forever, right?”

“Hmm, let’s see. With company. With friends who would never leave them. Who would stay for them, eat ice cream with them, and watch romantic movies with them. With honest people who would tell them that the right man would come for them in the right time and everything would be just fine.”

“The right man? So, they’re just gonna make her forget that she loved - ”

“ - a man who hurt and rejected her? Well, of course! He hurt her, so he doesn’t deserve her.”

“Listen, Kyrie: what if he’s the one? The one who rejected her?”

“…

… if he’s the one, then he shouldn’t have rejected her in the first place. It’s just,… wrong,… and,… stupid.”

“I see.”

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re courting someone while I’m on the other side of the globe?”

“WHAT?! NO! I would never do that to you!”

“Hahaha! Of course, Nero. I know you would never do that to me. So, who’s the sad girl?”

“…”

“Nero? Tell me.”

“It’s (Y/N). Do you know her?”

“Yes. Nico’s always telling me about her. She sounds like a great person. Why? Who rejected her?”

“Ah, it’s,…”

“Who?”

“I - it’s a long story. You know what? Prepare the ice cream and the movies. We’ll end this battle quick, because she needs your company. (Y/N) needs you. Us.”

“Okay, Nero.”

“Wait for us, Kyrie.”

“I will wait for you, for as long as I live.”

“I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you, too, sweetheart.”

Nero hung up the phone, sighing as he did so. Ever since hearing about your dire situation ( meaning, everything ) from Nico, herself, he couldn’t help but be sad and angry.

Sad for you, and angry at V.

What man could ever stomach doing that to a girl who clearly loved him?! Enough to follow him at death’s door?!

The young Devil Hunter shook his head in disbelief. He could still remember the Artisan’s words to him a few minutes prior.

“Go after (Y/N)! She’s reckless right now, and she needs someone who could stop her from killing herself!”

“Seriously, V.” Nero said to himself as he scratched his head in confusion, unable to envision himself rejecting his beloved Kyrie. “You are one stupid son of a bitch for doing that to (Y/N),…”

“Winter, spring, summer or fall,

You know all you have to do is call.

And I’ll be there, yeah! You’ve got a frieeennnddd!”

“You sound terrible.”

“Are ya kiddin’?! I sound angelic!”

“Right,…”

“(Y/N) and,… Griffon?” Nero uttered upon hearing the conversation not far from where he was. He left the last good phone booth of the city and went to his vehicle,…

“Now, you do it.” Griffon challenged you as you two made your way towards the Dreadnought.

You cleared your throat and opened your mouth, belting the lines that the bird just sang.

“Winter, spring, summer or fall,

You know all you have to do is call.

And I’ll be there, yeah! You’ve got a frieeennnddd!”

“UGH! AND YA CALL THAT SINGING?! YE SOUND LIKE A CAT IN HEAT FALLING FROM THE TOP OF THE EIFFEL TOWER!”

“I TOLD YOU! I’M TONE DEAF!”

“Yeah, ya better stick to dancin’, sweet pea. Haha! Haha! Ah, haha! Well, ah,… no offense. You really sound terrible.”

“I know but, you don’t have to rub it in,…”

“(Y/N)!” The two of you suddenly heard a voice behind you.

“Is that?” Griffon questioned as you two looked behind you,…

… to see Nero going full speed towards you in a sleek and sick - looking motorcycle that seemed to glow both blue and purple. He stopped just a few steps from you and proudly revved his new vehicle.

“Hey, (Y/N)! Need a ride?” The young Devil Hunter asked you with his signature, charmingly boyish smile.

“I thought Eleison’s destroyed?” You asked as you glanced at the amazing vehicle in awe.

“Yeah. I saw it with ma own eyes.” Griffon added.

Nero chuckled. “She is. But, you see, a few hours ago, I defeated this knight - Demon thing who wields electricity. When I fought it, its broken parts kinda merged with some vehicle gears. Long story short, I now have Kyrie Eleison!”

“And it has a name now! Right,…” the demonic bird sarcastically replied.

“Anyway, I’m going straight to that ugly ship to make it sink! Wanna tag along?”

“I don’t know, Nero!” You answered. “I mean, can it even fly?”

The boy may not have mentioned it but, he can clearly see your red puffy eyes. Like you have been crying a lot. He chose to ignore this, planning to bring this up for after the battle, and spoke. “We’ll see about that. Hop on!”

You awkwardly took a seat behind the boy, feeling a bit weak in the legs, and held tightly unto his wide shoulders for support. Griffon automatically positioned himself behind you, grabbing unto your hoodie with his talons.

Seeing that you’re prepared and ready for a wild ride, Nero revved Kyrie Eleison and sped fast. He laughed so hard upon hearing your and Griffon’s screams and made the vehicle even faster.

“NERO! CAN WE SLOW DOWN?!” You hysterically begged the boy.

“No! We’re gonna fly, remember?!”

“AAAHHH!”

Meanwhile, Trish and Lady were still fighting against the Demon horde below when they heard your screams.

“What’s that?” Lady asked as she fired her Kalina Ann, making one Demon’s face blast into bloody pieces.

“It sounds like,…” Trish said as she slowly looked up.

And there, right above that hill, the two women saw you, Nero, and Griffon, riding a weird - looking motorcycle and actually flying towards the entrance to the Dreadnought.

“How in the world - ?!” Trish exclaimed in utter awe of the reckless feat.

“They will never make it!” Lady yelled as she prepared for the worst.

“WE’LL NEVER MAKE IT!” You screamed, terrified for what will happen next.

“WE’LL CRASH!” Griffon, who seemed to have forgotten that he could easily fly away from all of this, hysterically added, still clinging unto your hoodie for dear life.

“NOT TODAY!” Nero answered, growling like hell as he revved the motorcycle, willing for it to land safely inside the demonic ship.

All of a sudden, Kyrie Eleison glowed even brighter than ever before with electric currents running all throughout its mechanical body. Its light blinded the Demons below, giving Trish and Lady enough time and opportunity to murder more of them.

“GGGYYYAAARRRGGGHHH!”

“SSSQQQUUUAAAWWWKKK!”

“I WON’T LET YOU DDDIIIEEE!” Nero howled as the motorcycle came into contact with the light barrier that guarded the entrance.

You closed your eyes and wrapped your arms tightly around Nero, not wanting to see yourself crash,…

But, everything seemed normal as you finally landed. You opened your eyes, seeing your uninjured body, and glanced at Nero.

“Is this it? Are we safe now?” You asked, unable to believe that you just flew a motorcycle towards the monstrous - looking ship

“Seems like it.” Nero answered you with a bashful smile.

“Look at this!” Griffon exclaimed in both awe and fear as he looked all over the place.

From the outside, Shinano Musashi looked like a huge hunk of demonic - looking metal with strange horns and protrusions. An impossibly huge mechanism that could float on the sky.

However, inside it was a different story, altogether. The Dreadnought may look robotic and lifeless on the outside but, its insides surely looked like the innards of a monster. Huge veins of both purple and red crawled all over the fleshy, bloody walls, and there was a distinct scent of sulfur wafting about the place. The floors were entirely filled with pools of a crimson - colored liquid that felt sticky when stepped on. Strange green crystals that provided some form of light protruded on the walls of flesh, and different moans of both pain and suffering could be heard echoing all over the place.

It was as if you entered a floating hell.

“What a putrid smell!” The demonic bird complained as he finally let go of your hoodie.

“I actually agree with you, little chicken.” Nero answered as he merely dodged a sticky yellow substance that dripped from the pulsating ceiling.

“WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?! YOU UNGRATEFUL, SON OF A - !”

“It’s calling me.”

Both Nero and Griffon looked at you as you got off of Kyrie Eleison and started walking deeper towards the cavern of the Dreadnought.

“Who is calling you?” The bird questioned as he flew towards you.

“I,… don’t know,…” You answered. You, then, turned and glanced back at your two companions, your eyes looking heavy and empty as if in a trance. “It’s calling my name. Can’t you hear it?”

“No!” The young Devil Hunter and the demonic familiar simultaneously answered.

“There it is. I’m,… coming,…” You said monotonously as you looked away from them and continued walking.

“(Y/N), don’t go there alone!” The boy called after you, then clicked his tongue in annoyance. He dismounted and went after you together with the bird.

A few hours of endless walking and various turns deep inside the Dreadnought led you to a slightly different room with less wet flesh and pulsating veins.

You stopped walking as soon as you noticed the quiet and much darker atmosphere. You looked up, wondering who called you there and noticed a subtle glow of light right in front of you in the form of a floating orb.

As soon as Nero saw this orb, he protectively pulled you away as he took out his Blue Rose and pointed at it.

“Sorry to burst your bubble, (Y/N) but, I don’t trust this fairy dust.” The boy said as he faced the suspicious - looking orb.

“I don’t think it wants a conversation with you right now, kid.” Griffon told him as he perched at your right arm.

All of a sudden, the orb grew bigger, casting numerous malicious - looking shadows on the walls. Nero took a step away from it, shielding his eyes from the blinding light until it imploded, leaving the whole room in darkness.

“What happened?!” Griffon squawked as he looked around for potential danger.

“I don’t know but, I have a bad feeling about this,…” the boy answered as he drew The Red Queen in preparation for a battle.

A few moments later, all three of you heard a noise coming from the far end of the room. Your heart suddenly became heavier as a black mass went towards you.

Nero revved his Red Queen, ready to attack the enemy, when, suddenly,…

“Kyrie?” Nero uttered, bewildered to find the woman he loved standing in front of him. “Sweetheart, what are you doing here?”

Your eyes widened as you noticed the sinister smile on Kyrie’s face.

Something was off!

“Nero! Wait - !”

When he was about to reach out to his lover, a strange kind of light in the form of multiple dark whips emanated from her, throwing the boy towards the other end of the room.

“Griffon, please!” You asked the familiar as you took out your rapier and shield.

“No need to tell me!” The bird answered as it gathered its power for an attack -

“Don’t you dare hurt her!” Nero screamed as he finally stood up.

“Can’t ya see, kid?! This chick’s not yer fling! She - SSSQQQUUUAAAWWWKKK!”

“GRIFFON!” You yelled as one of the whips of dark light coming from the creature impersonating Kyrie grabbed one of the demonic avian’s talons and practically threw him away with much force. The bird landed on the ground beside Nero, which left you as the last fighter standing.

You drew your weapon and carefully walked towards the enemy when it suddenly looked at you with its sinister eyes and evil smile. It engulfed itself with its dark light once more, and when it subsided, you saw, in horror, the poet standing before you.

“WHAT IN THE SCHTICK?!” Griffon swore, his golden eyes wide with both humor and fear.

“V?!” Nero muttered in confusion. “(Y/N), look out!”

Before you could even attack, the man strode towards you, raised his hand with the metal cane, and brought it swiftly down on your face, wounding you and making you stumble to the ground.

Your hand automatically went up your cheek and felt something moist from it. You looked at your fingers - blood.

“GET AWAY FROM HER, YOU CHEAP V RIP - OFF FROM HELL!” Griffon shrieked as he flew towards the creature. He released a strong electric attack with the full intention of killing the enemy.

However, the “cheap V rip - off” simply dodged it, flawlessly jumping in mid - air and hitting Griffon with his cane with unbelievable strength. The bird landed on the ground with an ugly thud.

“Nobody told me he’s not sissy like his real counterpart!” Griffon quipped as he tried to get up from the ground. But then, the enemy stepped on him and drove his cane deep into his flesh, instantly making him enter his stalemate state.

“Griffon!” You quickly stood up and ran towards the familiar but the enemy whacked you with his cane once more, this time, straight on your back.

“FUCK YOU!” Nero swore as he charged towards the fake V. The enemy noticed this and changed back to Kyrie. The boy did a mistake of stopping in his tracks, making the enemy attack him once more with its dark whips. He came flying towards the other end of the room, feeling fresh wounds and multiple injuries all over his body.

“TAKE THIS!” You screamed at the top of your lungs as you whacked your shield on Kyrie’s back, making it stumble. Then, you hastily went to Nero’s side, helping him on his feet.

“We can’t attack it like this!” Nero thundered as he stood up, giving the enemy an angry look for taking the form of a person as pure and as angelic as Kyrie.

You looked at him, knowing exactly what the enemy’s weakness was. “Nero, listen to me. That is not Kyrie - ”

“I know! You don’t have to tell me!”

“But, just now, you hesitated to attack her!”

Nero punched the ground in frustration. You grabbed his arm and made him look up at you.

“We’ll attack it together! Come on, Nero! We have to do this!”

A few minutes later of quick strategizing, the two of you came charging towards the enemy. You took turns attacking it, Nero with his Red Queen and you with your rapier. However, the enemy also switched from Kyrie to V, confusing you and unintentionally opening yourselves for its deadly attacks.

Nero, on the other hand, had enough and slashed the enemy’s torso the moment it turned back to V. It drew back in shock, clutching its wounded stomach, then turned to you two with murder and malice in its now red eyes. It dropped its cane on the ground and changed back to Kyrie, extending one of its whips and pinned Nero to the wall, fatally wounding him.

Just when you were about to attack it, it rapidly went back to V, waved its arms, and summoned multiple blades of blue light that rapidly went down on you like bullets.

Nero watched helplessly as the enemy rained its blades of light down upon you, wounding you to the point that you could no longer get up. He wanted to retaliate but, when he tried to even move a muscle, the shape - shifting creature only pinned him to the wall again with its dark whip of light, injuring him even more.

You looked up at Nero, feeling the endless lashes on your battered body. You reached a single hand towards him, wanting to help him despite your torture. Bloody and torn, he also reached out to you,…

That’s when you saw it.

His Breaker suddenly disintegrated and turned into ashes. The boy was engulfed in a warm kind of blue light that instantly healed all of his wounds and injuries. Slowly and like a true miracle, the blue light that engulfed his right arm took form, morphing into something more solid,…

… turning into real flesh,…

His eyes widened at the sight. He forcefully grabbed the dark whip that imprisoned him using his newly formed right arm and almost melted it with the sheer light and warmth it radiated.

The enemy took notice of this and abruptly halted its attack on you, turning into Kyrie once more but, this time, more evil and seductive - looking than ever. And with more dark whips that surrounded its whole body like numerous tails.

“Your tricks are getting too old, you bitch.” Nero quipped as he motioned for the enemy to come closer. “I’ll make you pay for this!”

With wide eyes filled with wonder, you watched as the youth fought the enemy with ease, wounding it, tearing it apart with his bare hands, and exposing it for what it really was. The beating went on for three unbearable minutes, and when it finally went down to the ground helpless and dying, he went towards you to help you stand.

Grabbing his warm right arm, you spoke, “This is a miracle!”

“I know.” Nero answered as he supported you.

You turned towards the dark, beaten, writhing mass on the ground that was the remnants of Kyrie and limped your way to it with Nero still on your heel.

“Who called me here?” You asked it, foolishly believing that it could somehow shed light to the mystery of the Dreadnought and the voice that was calling you.

However, it made one last dying effort to morph once more into V to confuse you. But, the V this time never had the chance to even lay its fingers on you as it remained on the ground beaten and broken.

You felt a pang of guilt as you looked at it and realized that it was only making you feel that way to defeat you.

With one last sigh of apathy towards the enemy, you took Nero’s Red Queen from him, held it above your head, and plunged it to V’s heart, making it writhe and wriggle even more with pain. Feeling your tears pour out of your tired eyes for this unspeakable creature for exposing your true emotions, you plunged the hot sword even deeper, skewering its heart and reducing the enemy down to its true form - a short and wrinkled creature, about four feet in height, with long twisted claws, sharp red eyes, green skin, and skinny legs. You took the sword out of its body and slashed its head, decapitating it and finally putting an end to it once and for all. The remains of the despicable creature caught on fire and slowly turned into ashes.

You gave the sword back to Nero as you collapsed on the ground.

“So, that’s how Mina felt when she decapitated Dracula.” You sighed as you settled on the ground to make yourself comfortable. “Oh, that’s wrong. That’s no Dracula,…”

“Why Kyrie? Why not somebody else?” The youth asked as he watched the creature’s ashes get flown by the wind.

You sighed, feeling the massive weight on your heart and shoulders. “It only reflects how much you love a person. The enemy used it against you because it knew it would be your biggest weakness.”

Nero looked at you in dismay. “So, you still love him,… V?”

You blinked twice, not sure if your heart could take any more pain. You, then, let out a long sigh of depression. “After all this time. Yes.” You answered, wincing in pain as you touched one bloody wound on your arm.

“Hey, you should fall back now, you can’t fight like this!” The boy pleaded as you let him support you.

However, the moment your skin made contact with his new arm once again, a new set of visions flashed through your mind about him. It was rapid, and yet,…

You only shook your head in disagreement. “Don’t mind me. I’ll be fine.”

“You’ll be fine?! What are you - ?”

Nero’s sentence was cut off as he saw, with his own two eyes, how the wounds on your body miraculously healed. He watched the phenomenon in total shock, and when your last wound closed, he could only laugh in disbelief.

“Don’t tell me you’re immortal?!” Nero questioned you.

“And what does that make you?” You asked him as you gave a knowing look on his new right arm.

“Come on, (Y/N). I’m serious here! How did you - ?”

“You never asked how Griffon came to be my familiar.” You cut him off. “And you never asked why my eyes are red. I know Nico told you everything. But, the question is,…” You said, giving him a questioning look as you raised an eyebrow. “… how much do you know?”

The youth could only gulp down in nervousness, his sweat running cold in the process. “Everything.”

“Oh.”

“FUCK YEAH! What? Hey, what did I miss?” Griffon, who was just fully healed and revived, asked as he flew down towards the two of you.

“Nero pulled a rabbit out of his sleeve.” You answered without so much as a fuss.

“Really? Oh, wait. You’re being sarcastic - !”

“Which brings me to my next agenda.” You said as you held up a hand to silence Griffon. “Nero,…”

“What is it, (Y/N)?”

You looked into the youth’s sincere eyes, deciding whether to tell him what you just saw or not, then shook your head.

“Forget I said anything.” You quietly answered as you stood up.

“I know you saw something about me. Tell me!”

You narrowed your eyes at the boy.

Well,…

He had the right to know!

“Listen: do you know Luke Skywalker? The Jedi?” You asked him as you removed your shredded parka, letting Nero take a glimpse of the contract markings on your right arm.

“Luke,… Skywalker? I’m not sure I could follow,…”

“Yeah, the woman likes movies, ya know?” Griffon added as he perched on your arm.

“So, what does this Luke have to do with me?” Nero inquired as he followed you out of the dark and depressing room.

“Hmm, I don’t know. Could you say, that’s impossible!”

“That’s impossible! There, I said it.”

“You’ll say that again later.”

“What do you mean by that? Hey, (Y/N)!”

You turned to glance at the boy. Taking pity on him, you spoke, “You know, you are very fortunate.”

“Uh, thank you, I guess?” Nero replied, scratching his temple in confusion.

“Thank you for everything, Nero.”

“Nah, it’s nothing.”

“Tell Kyrie I said hi.”

“Sure thing.”

“This will be the last time. You’ll never see me again.”

“Okay. WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?!”

But, you were already gone before he could even ask you that last bit that Nico never told him,…

***

XXII

***

In silence and total darkness, V waited for you to arrive. And during those tense moments, he could only think of Fleminger’s words to him.

“I know it is power you seek, my Lord. She has that power you’re searching for - the power to make yourself invulnerable. The power - to put you back to your former self. Deep within the Dreadnought lies her true heart. But, piercing it would do you no good. Pierce,…

… her body first, then make her power mine. Only then can I defeat the Dreadnought.” V uttered as Shadow morphed into an indistinguishable form before him. “Only then,… can I truly become,…

… whole. Once more.”

At those final words, something huge behind him pulsated, splashing the suffocating room with its sickly crimson glow and casting unearthly shadows before the poet.

V looked down on his hands. His crumbling flesh. His time,… was coming to an end.

And so, he shall soon receive the power,…

“Come to me, my love.” He called for the third time, knowing that you would come to him right away without hesitation,…

***

💙💙💙

***

[rivertellsstories]

Have some fear, something’s here.

A spoopy Sprace story. Sprace isn’t actually important lol, I just thought the story went best with them

Words: 1310

"Oh stop it", Race says and slaps his boyfriend playfully on the chest. "You know I'm right", Spot counters smugly, keeping his eyes on the road. "Doesn't mean you get to say it", Race sighs and leans his head against the car window. The landscape glides by slowly, a consistent picture of dark trees against an evenly dark sky. The slow pace of the car combined with Spot's humming in the background is a perfect mixture to make Race's eyes droop. "Ya sleepy?" Spot asks, startling Race awake. The effect lasts about two seconds before he can feel himself slipping off again. "Yeah", he mumbles and he thinks he hears Spot let out a little laugh. "Then go to sleep, loser."

The sound of thunder and Spot cursing wakes Race up once more. Sleepily, he yawns and rubs his eyes. "What's going on babe?" This time it's Spot who startles and Race gives his annoyed boyfriend a small grin. "The car broke down. I think the engine broke", he grumbles and Race groans. "Man, it's still a journey of three hours before we get home. I just wanna sleep."

"I know Racer", Spot shushes him, letting his fingers trail through golden curls before playfully tugging on one particularly stubborn curl. Race hisses at him in discontent, but doesn't move, unwilling to change his sleep inducing fetal position. His annoying boyfriend is not going to mess with his comfort, hell no.

"I'll go look for a gas station. With some luck, we'll be back on track in no time. Does that sound like a good plan?" Race nods. "Yep. I'll stay here and catch some more z's, if you don't mind. Also, I've been hearing about stereos getting stolen, so for the sake of our stereo, I'll stay here." Laying his hands on his chest in attempt to look wounded, Spot exhales dramatically. "I have the most wonderful boyfriend. More concerned about his stereo instead of his boyfriend venturing out in the woods."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever drama queen. Go get some fuel."

"Aren't you charming?" Spot remarks dryly before pressing a kiss to Race's forehead. "Get some rest, you look more awful than usual, bitch." Before Race can start a tirade of protests, Spot presses a swift kiss to his lips. "Love ya, sweatie."

"It's sweetie, you dick! I'm not sweaty!" Race yells as Spot exits the car. "Whatever you say love. Keep the doors locked and be safe." Race waves his boyfriend goodbye. "You too."

Race sleeps for another two hours before the storm restarts and he gets once again woken up by the sound of the rolling thunder. He looks around in search of Spot before remembering that the other man has gone out. Shrugging his shoulders, he rearranges himself in attempt to go to sleep again.

Morpheus doesn't come for him again and Race is left waiting for his boyfriend to come back with only the howling of the wind accompanying him. Gnawing at his bottom lip, he decides that the woods have a very different vibe about them without Spot at his side to make stupid jokes about them. Loneliness and something else threatens to creep upon him. Unwilling to get freaked out by a bunch of trees, Race puts on the stereo and stubbornly sings along to Laura Pausini's 'La solitudine'. Nothing wrong with some Italian 90s nostalgia to beat spooky woods.

The trick works and for a solid half hour, Race amuses himself by singing along to Spot's "secret" collection of Disney cd's. But then, halfway through Hellfire, the stereo starts malfunctioning and the only sound that comes through is the repeated "mea culpa". As Race stares at the system in disgust, even that sound abruptly gets cut off and the last thing he hears are the words "Kyrie eleison" and the meaning of them, combined with the fact that it doesn't sound the way it always does, makes Race shiver.

The sudden halt of the music, forces Race to listen to the pitter pattering of the rain and the occasional clap of thunder. But ever so slowly, the raindrops on the roof of the car stop sounding like raindrops and Race's mind starts wandering. Is that truly nothing more than the sound of the rain? His thoughts take him back to the previous evening, where'd spent his time looking up videos of black-eyed children together with Spot.

They knock on car windows, he remembers as something persistently goes tip-tap. Is it nothing more than the rain or are those the tiny, hesitant steps of a child? He can hear her now, a little girl getting closer to his car. Tip-tap. Those are her footsteps for sure. Within seconds, she'll reach for the door handle and try to open it. When that will turn out futile, she'll tap on the window. Eyes wide open and curls framing an innocent looking face, as she'll asks that one faithful question. "Won't you open the door, sir?" Tip-tap. And there it is. A tiny knock on his window. Race really doesn't want to look, but humans are nothing if not slaves to their own curiosity. Slowly, he turns to face the window.

In the darkness, he can't make out a thing, but when he lays eyes upon the tree close to his car, his heart rate calms down. It was probably just a twig hitting his window. He ignores the fact that the tree has very short branches and that none of them could've been long enough to hit his window.

"You're a crazy one", he says to his image in the rear-view mirror. He swears he can see something behind him move, but he ignores it and stubbornly stares into the mirror. If he doesn't turn around, it isn't really there. God, playing Bloody Mary in the sixth grade wasn't as scary as this. How did that game go again? Say her name three times and she'll show up or something along those lines.

'Bloody Mary', Race thinks, unwilling to utter the words, but his brain still curious and stupid. He doesn't want to see her, doesn't want to know whether the urban legends are true or not and yet, his brain defies him by staring deeply into the mirror and thinking the forbidden duo of words a second time. Who knows what happens if you only think it? Surely, that wouldn't be enough to summon her? Or would it? Morbidly curious, Race keeps staring at his reflection. It doesn't look like him. Of course the face is the same one, but the aura around it is different.

He tears his gaze away from the mirror before he can think the words for a third time. A cold gust of air hits the back of his neck, making the hairs there stand up. It feels like a breath, soft and delicate, but one that's as cold as the inside of a tomb.

Unwilling to dwell on that thought any longer, he thinks back to everything that happened this week and tries to remember something funny. His worry about Spot threatens to overtake any and all activity in his brain, but Race successfully represses that. He retreats back to Tuesday, where they had dressed Kid Blink up as a pirate. The guy had swung his hook in a lacklustre way and had said 'ar' in the most deadpan manner possible. With a smile, Race tries to ignore the sound of something scratching his car and a voice whispering: "Let me in." Shaken and worried, Race falls asleep.

When he wakes up the next morning and still sees no sign of his boyfriend he doesn't know what to do. Before he leaves the car, he takes a deep breath to steel himself.

After opening the door, he's at a total  || || |_ for words when he sees the scene in front of him.

Man door...hand hook

Car door

Tag list:

@have-we-got-news-for-you

@and-i-lostmy-shoe

@newsies-more-like-gaysies

@sure-as-a-star

[sayo-beatrice]

Legend - EP 1

Massive spoilers for Legend of the Golden Witch! Do not read if you are not okay with spoilers! 

First Game Legend of the Golden Witch

Culprit: Sayo Yasuda Accomplices: Nanjo, Genji, Kumasawa, Eva, and Hideyoshi

Preparations: In Chapter 6, after talking with the cousins, Shannon ran off claiming that her break was over. It stated that she was headed toward the rose garden, but we didn’t see her after that. In this same chapter, Kanon was unaccounted for the entire time. Rosa and the cousins soon left Maria alone in the rose garden, since she refused to stop searching for her lost rose. Yasu, as either Shannon, Kanon, or Beatrice, gave the letter to Maria while she was searching for her rose in the garden. In this game and almost all the other others, Yasu told her to read it to everyone at dinner. Along with this, she must have taken the rose on the way to the rose garden to keep Maria there, otherwise it was simply a prediction of hers (it would make sense, she predicted the typhoon).

First Twilight: In the dining hall, Yasu killed Krauss, Rudolf, Kyrie, Rosa, and Gohda, hence the blood on the seats. It is not certain why she killed those particular people, but it was most likely so that the adults wouldn’t solve the epitaph before Battler, which is what she wants to happen. With the help of one of the servants (she is the head, so they will obey her, and nobody else would help her; for more context, the servants with the exception of Gohda all accept Beatrice as their second master in Chapter 12), Yasu moved their bodies to the rose garden storehouse and painted the magic circle to give off the witch’s presence.

Although it is very discreet, Yasu presumably bribed Eva and Hideyoshi to conspire with her. Before she is killed, Eva refers to the blood as “horrible makeup” with a very firm tone. In Chapter 10, Hideyoshi did not allow George to come near Shannon’s body with the excuse of preserving her dignity. Nobody except Eva and Hideyoshi saw “Shannon” on the ground. That’s where Willard’s solution comes into place. “Illusions to illusions. The corpse that cannot return to earth returns to illusions.” Shannon’s corpse isn’t real because Kanon was at the scene, so lies took place.

To explain the scene at Natsuhi’s room, we will go back to Chapter 6. Maria rants about how scorpion charms ward off witches such as Beatrice. Shannon reaffirms this theory, and later puts it to use while planning the six murders. In Chapter 8, Jessica gives her scorpion charm to Natsuhi, and she hangs it on her door. Yasu most likely saw the charm and gave up on killing Natsuhi (keep in mind the purpose of killing the parents). She then settled for Gohda, who is the only servant who didn’t know the truth about her. To add the finishing touch, Yasu added the fake blood she uses later in the murders to her door to scare her, which fully recreated the scorpion charm myth.

Second Twilight: According to the epitaph, the victims of the second twilight will be “two who are close.” The only two who are close are the married couple of Eva and Hideyoshi, and are also dangerous accomplices who could expose her, so it would be twice as reasonable for Yasu to murder them. At a time where Kanon was unaccounted for, Yasu went to Eva and Hideyoshi’s room dressed up as Kanon. She shot them in the head and placed the stakes in the bullet spots in order to stick to her epitaph motif. Hideyoshi was placed in a running shower to create further chaos and confusion. It can be presumed that they were shot first because otherwise blood would be all over the walls and the bed.

Afterwards, Yasu went to the kitchen to get Genji as a watchdog in order to paint the magic circle. We as the readers are tricked to think that they are innocent and just checking on the couple. This can be predicted because the magic circle just suddenly appeared when Kanon came back with Kumasawa. It is said that it is a perfect closed room, but if they knew that these events occurred, they would probably come to a conclusion that is the same as mine. “Illusions to illusions. A chain of illusions can only hold back illusions.” Eva and Hideyoshi never mentioned a chain locking the door, only Kanon and Genji, so it had to be a lie. Even if the chain existed - logically, it would be easy for Yasu to lock the chain before leaving the room, creating the illusion of a perfect closed room.

Fourth Twilight: In Chapter 12, Eva talks about how she placed a receipt into the study door before she asked Natsuhi to go check on Kinzo. When Eva and Natsuhi went along to check on Kinzo, he “disappeared” and wasn’t in the study. Additionally, the receipt was in the exact same place as Eva put it in as they entered the door. To clarify, the receipt really exists because Natsuhi later says that she threw it in the trash when she saw it on the floor.

This would create a closed room scenario if not looked upon carefully. But with the evidence presented, it can be concluded that Kinzo was never there in the first place, even though everyone says he is. What would this suggest? He was already dead. “Illusions to illusions. Let the man of illusions go to where he belongs.” Krauss, Natsuhi, and the servants are “seen” with Kinzo throughout the first half of the novel. But looking back at what I just said, that is not possible. This means they are all faking his death, most likely to prevent a crazy incident to happen within the Ushiromiya family (I mean, look at the Rokkenjima Mass Murder). Knowing all this, it would be extremely easy for Yasu to stage Kinzo’s death to the unknowing family members.

Fifth Twilight: Considering the alibis, there is no possible way for Kanon and Kumasawa to hear a door closing in the boiler room. Kanon rushed down to the boiler room and saw “Beatrice.” Since Beatrice is Yasu, Kanon yelling at Beatrice would represent Yasu’s internal conflict about being a murderous sadist who causes grief to Battler and the others. In the end, Yasu goes through with it and stages a death for Kanon, so she can finish the last twilights easier. She presumably used the blood-like substance that was on Natsuhi’s door to stage Kanon’s death. “Illusions to illusions. The witch and stake of illusions can pierce naught but illusions.” The stake that apparently pierced Kanon was near him, not in him. Additionally, he was face down and the only confirmation of his death and the stab wound was Nanjo’s inspection.

Sixth, Seventh, & Eighth Twilight: The letter in the study must have been sneaked onto the table by one of the servants; most likely Genji. After all, Genji was with Kanon during the preparations for the second twilight, so he must have also slipped the letter under the door. While everyone was looking at the epitaph in the study, Maria and the servants were the only ones who weren’t seen. Maria couldn’t have done it because she legitimately believes in magic. After Natsuhi kicked Maria and the servants out, they went to the parlor. When the group in the study came down after getting the phone call in the study (from Yasu or Maria, this would also imply that Genji lied about the radio and phone not working), Maria claimed that Beatrice came through the door in the form of golden butterflies and spoke to them.

Again, when Genji said he was going to give all the keys in the mansion to Natsuhi, he lied because Yasu couldn’t have gotten in otherwise; Genji would have to lock the door in order to create an illusion for Maria. “Illusions to illusions. Illusions are the blind girls's song. Illusion of a closed room.” Adding onto Maria’s claim, she stated that Beatrice told her to face the wall and sing while she killed everyone else in the room, in order to prohibit Maria from seeing how she really does it. Either Yasu or Maria made the phone call and just left the wire hanging. Afterwards, Yasu left a taunting letter for Natsuhi and waited for her in the area with the portrait. Lastly, on the notion of Kumasawa being frightened (as Maria stated), it can simply be explained as her anxious nature toward the subject of death. Even if she knows something is going to happen, she’s still scared, as seen during the second and fifth twilights upon the body discoveries.

Final Moment: Natsuhi never fired the gun until the fight with “Beatrice.” The only logical explanation is that the gun had blanks (not by coincidence, Yasu had access to Kinzo’s room and his weapons; this means that she could tamper with them), because Natsuhi has no reason to kill herself as Jessica thought she did. Additionally, Alliance of the Golden Witch gives us two useful truths to help prove this:

“The bullet that killed Natsuhi was not fired from Natsuhi's gun; the thing that shot Natsuhi wasn't a trap, it was a real shooting murder with a gun raised and trigger pulled!”

The letter was about a duel between who should be the family head, as described as Natsuhi through her battle cry. Yasu revealed herself (dressed as Beatrice) to the children and simply waited for the explosives to go off (Rokkenjima used to be a military base of sorts, as elaborated on in Requiem of the Golden Witch).

Aftermath: It is said in the credits that Maria sent a message bottle to sea about the mass murder, but this was probably a fabrication by Yasu in order to conceal her identity to the police. The deaths by the game’s end were symbolized as “goats chewing them up,” which most likely refers to the Goat Butlers. Also, Shannon and Kanon can apparently exist as different beings inside Purgatorio, possibly because it is described by Bernkastel as “Beatrice’s realm,” and that Beatrice herself is a representation of the rules of the games (she doesn’t know about Yasu yet).

Pure Theory: Lastly, in Twilight of the Golden Witch, it is implied that Yasu committed suicide by drowning in the real world after the massacre and Battler tried to save her. Unfortunately, he didn’t succeed and instead suffered major brain damage and amnesia, making him a new person (Tohya Hachijo). This would mean that the only logical explanation for Battler not knowing anything in Legend of the Golden Witch and thinking it’s his normal life is that when both Yasu and Battler (Tohya’s former life) arrived in Purgatorio, Yasu started her game plan immediately.

Bonus: Here I will talk about how I think the Umineko universe and its writing works. It’s a bit simplified, but I hope I make sense.

Real World: The universe of Umineko When They Cry has multiple layers. The main two consist of fantasy and the real world. The message bottles are Yasu’s plans to murder the entire Ushiromiya family, but she never went through with them. In the first and second episodes, we see two of her message bottles in action. In addition, Ikuko’s novels (the third to sixth episodes) are based off of Yasu’s other message bottles that we haven’t seen.

Fantasy still plays a major part in the real world and how it shaped the characters. As seen in Twilight of the Golden Witch, Tohya comes to terms with everything in the end, with all of the magic and human characters around him. This was not just for us to see nor was it only an ending that wasn’t supposed to make sense. It would imply that the magical perspective of Battler and his adventures with Beatrice was part of Tohya’s thoughts and his regret over Yasu’s death.

Fantasy and Magic: Ange also has these types of thoughts, as revealed more clearly. Starting from the third (mainly the fourth) episode, we see that she uses Maria’s diary to escape in a fantasy world and go back into her past where she played around with the members of Mariage Sorciere. Bernkastel embodies her nihilistic thoughts of her life and the people around her. While it is supposed to look like the Ange we see in each episode is traveling to one world to another, it is actually a linear explanation of her experiences with a bit of magic added in.

The eighth episode concludes Ange’s journey, and shows that she has come to terms with everything that has happened to her family and herself. Ange in the seventh episode can be interpreted as what Tohya imagined she would feel when she discovered the truth, as Requiem of the Golden Witch is basically Tohya discovering the truth. This includes Yasu’s whole history, not just her plans to murder the Ushiromiya family.

[smokeybrand]

NBA Rant: Opening Salvo

Today is the first day of NBA Free Agency. That sh*t is dumb. The season starts on December 22. Preseason starts December ll and ends on the 19. It’s f*cking absurd. My LAkers will have had just 88 days off while the teams that didn’t make the bubble, will have upwards of 300. What the f*ck, dude?? Look, i get that this sh*t is a business but or real? I mean, I'm gonna watch because ball is life, but f*ck, dude. I’m really hoping we don’t see an explosion of injuries like n the NFL. Anyway, since today is the opening day of the offseason, we’ve seen some moves, moves i want to get into a little bit.

Chris Paul to the Suns is a win-win for both franchises. OKC got the farm in return. Sure, they got a ton of pieces going forward but, more than anything, they accumulated seventeen first round picks, overall. That sh*t is ridiculous! This is exactly how the Cs were able to stay relevant and eventually contend, just a few years after the breakup of there Big Three. Paul’s first choice was a return to the Clips, of course, but they didn’t have the picks OKC wanted. Before everyone stars baring about having seventeen rookies or whatever, that’s not the point. First Rounders are pure assets. You can used them to make moves, to pry actual stars from teams hurting for cap relief or have grueling chemistry issues. On the other end of that, the Suns get a proven maestro on the floor next to Booker. The fact that Paul had his best years under Monty Williams is a plus, too. Do i think this move make the Suns a force in the West? F*ck no. They’re probably the best of the rest though. Like, they can play-in for the 8th seed and will have very real trouble getting out of the first round but this is a promising start. And, while I'm on OKC...

My LAkers made a move to acquire Dennis Schroder from these cats for a First Rounder and Danny Green. I like this move. I actually addressed this in the last Rant i posted but Green was more than expendable after seeing that playoff performance last season. Look, i like dude. He is a real defensive force. But, we need that shot and his was terrible. The Warriors are coming back next season, reloaded and disgusting. We need a sure shot to even begin to contend against that. Schroder isn’t THAT answer but he does fill another hole. It’s accepted that Rondo and KCP are both opting out. That’s fine. Schroder fills that playmaking hole we are definitely going to miss, and then some. Kid was sixth man of the year, or played like it, last year for OKC. I imagine him running the floor with AD and Bron would up those numbers considerably. I still think we should go after Pooh if he’s available, as the leader of the second unit but, more pressing in my mind, is trying to fill that whole in the wing. Palinka got a plan for that, too.

Way back in 2016,when i still played 2K because it was still fun and not a thinly veiled casino, i built this exact squad. My Player ran point, Bron was at the three, AD was the four, and Howard was my center. At the to, i ran Wesley Matthews. That squad was the best i ever constructed and i beat teams by a margin of twenty, every game. It was absurd how good those cat were together. Wesley Matthews is opting out and is the number one target for the LAkers this offseason. This cat fills that gap at the wing. He had a helluva season last year and, for his game, in Vogel’s creative ass offensive schemes, Matty Ice will get ALL of the looks. Matthews to the LAkers makes all of the sense, for both sides. This dude will slot in perfectly with that squad an, with him and Schroder in the fold, we can make a proper run at another title. Plus, he’s cheap as f*ck! We only have to come off the Vet minimum to acquire dude. Sh*t is dope! It’s not so dope for...

The Bucks. Holy sh*t, Milwaukee! Your assholes must be the puckiest of puckered. You just lost out on Paul and Matthews is opting out. Sh*t is looking real bleak for you right now in terms of Giannis retention, especially considering he’s spent the entire “offseason” in the Bay. This sh*t reeks of that KD fix from a few years back. I have no idea how Golden State makes those numbers work, but they did once and, if it means securing KD lite, I'm sure they’ll make them work again. I mean, you have to. If there’s an opportunity to sign arguably the best talent in the league, you make that happen. What I'm more interested in what the Bucks can make happen because, if we get to the trade deadline and these cats are spinning their wheels, you might see Giannis driving off toward San Fran next season. I mean, the clock is ticking on that super-max they offered and there is no sing of a signing in the near future, so...

Yo, what the f*ck is going on in Houston right now? D’Antoni is gone, Westbrook wants out, Morrey got fired, and now Harden asked for a trade? Are you serious?? Word is that a deal with Brooklyn is all but done? ARE YOU SERIOUS??? That’s some stunt trading right there because, and i say this knowing all of the hate I'd get from the general Hoop community, The Beard to Brooklyn is a terrible f*cking look. Never mind the “only one ball” argument, how does Kyrie, Harden, and Durant coexist on the court together? KD and Irving have already said they don’t have a coach, which is a problem in of itself, adding Harden, and his ego, to that mix seems pretty explosive. They’ll run the East no doubt, and would probably be superior to a lot of the teams out West but i have no idea if those egos will mesh. Kyrie is a basket case, KD is kind of a baby, and Harden is a dick. All of them have experienced being “They Guy” for several teams. All of them have experienced winning at the highest levels. How does this work? Who defers to who? This h*t only works if these cats are willing to work as a unit and that remains to be seen. KD did fine in GS but both Harden and Irving have proved they don’t like to share. And it's literally only the first day of offseason.

[snfocxcanon]

so i wrote a lil thing of Nero and Conrad so here it is in case yall wanna read it

Nero stirred before opening his eyes, a sudden pain coming to his arm. He looked down, seeing it wrapped in bloody bandages and remembered what had happened. Nero looked around his surroundings, he was still at Kyrie’s house. He spotted Nico sitting off somewhere. Attempting to sit up, Nero squinted and squeaked in pain, falling back down onto the couch he was laying on.

Nico looked over, and quickly walked over. “Nero, finally!” She said in a slight whisper. “You’ve been out for days!”

“DAYS?!”

Nico shushed him while giggling. “Be quiet! I was just kidding! You’ve been out for a few hours, about 8 to 12 at most.” Nero tried easing his breathing to calm the pain from his arm, which caused him to gasp and wheeze. He turned to lay on his back, and noticed he was laying on someone’s lap, Conrad’s lap. He was sleeping, his head laid back on the couch. “He’s been watching you non stop for awhile.” Nico said. “He was also bawling his eyes out, poor guy, kept asking you not to die.” Nero looked over to her, a bit of confusion on his face.

“He refused to have you leave his sight, the only times being to go to the bathroom once or twice, but he always came back, he passed out about half an hour ago, probably hasn’t slept for over 24 hours.”

“And… because of me?”

Nico nodded her head.

Nero looked down, suddenly lost in thought. “He changed your bandages every few hours, and even cleaned the blood off of your face and out of your hair with a cloth.” Nico added. Nero looked at Conrad again.

“You think he can hear us?”

“Nah, he’s sleepin’ as hard as a rock.”

“Okay…. do you think-“

“That he has feelings for you? Yeah, and I know you do too.”

“You know, if that wasn’t what I was going to ask, that would have been really mean.”

Nico chuckled.

“Can you.. help me sit up?” Nero asked. Nico stood up and pulled Nero up by his shoulders, Nero wincing in pain. He laid his back onto the couch cushion, next to Conrad, and looked at him again. Nico came and sat next to Nero, making sure to be cautious of his arm.

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“Why haven’t you told him yet?”

“I was… never for sure…”

“Well I was.”

“Of course YOU were.”

“Well when do you plan on breakin’ it to him?”

“Maybe sometime after he wakes up… I want him to sleep for now.”

“Well it might be awhile til he wakes up again.”

“Good… gives me time to think of what to say…”

“I’ll leave it to you, then!”

Nico gets up, and walks out of the living room. Nero now sits in silence, the only noise being the breathing of Conrad. Nero looks at him again, then gently rests his head on his shoulder, and begins to think.

A few hours later, Conrad starts to stir in his sleep. Nero sits up off of his shoulder and looks at him, Conrad barely opens his eyes. “You’ve been out for quite awhile.” Nero jokes. Conrad immediately sits up, and looks at Nero, his eyes wide. “NERO! You’re awake? Are you ok? Do you need me to change the bandages? How are you feeling? Do you need anything.” Nero laughs. “Calm down, I’m fine, but yeah, my bandages might need changing.” Nero looks down at the bandages. “Ok! I can do that!” Conrad replied with a smile. Conrad grabs a pack of bandages from the coffee table in front of them and starts to remove the bloody bandages from Nero’s arm.

“Still pretty nasty.” Conrad says as Nero singes slightly in pain. Conrad places the bloody bandages on the table and grabs a cloth from a bowl of water and starts cleaning the dry blood off of his arm. “You need to change.” Nero says, just noticing the bloody shirt Conrad was wearing. “Not yet, after I take care of you.” He puts the cloth back into the water and starts wrapping Nero’s arm. “Why not just take the shirt off?” Nero asked. “That way it doesn’t look like you just killed someone.” Conrad laughed. “No one's gonna think that, they’ll just think I’ve killed a few demons.”

“Why are you even wearing white anyways? You never wear white. Out of ALL of the times you wear white, it had to be now.” Nero said, with a tease in his voice, Conrad just shrugs.

Nero looked over to the side as Conrad finishes his bandages. He remembered what he told Nico, about how he wanted to tell Conrad how he felt once he woke up, but Nero was still having doubts, Conrad seemed too good for him. “There!” Conrad says, putting the box of bandages back on the table, but Nero didn’t seem to reply, or even look up. “Hey, you good?” Conrad asks, and Nero shakes his head and looks up. “Oh! Y-yeah.. just thinking.” Conrad learned back onto the couch, but didn’t take his eyes off of Nero. “You seem pretty deep in thought, what’s on your mind?”

Nero pressed his lips together and furrowed his brows. He’s had hours to think about what to say, but now that Conrad is actually awake, it seemed like every thought he had had suddenly disappeared. “I want to tell you something.” Nero said, and Conrad raised an eyebrow. “Really? What’s that?” Nero put his forehead on the palm of his hand as he tried to think.

“Seems quite important.” Conrad says.

“It is.”

Conrad’s breath seemed to get caught for a second when Nero said that, he patiently waited for Nero to finish thinking. Nero took his hand away from his head and grabbed Conrad’s hand. “You know, back a few years ago… when we first met, you seemed to always care about me, even if I was some edgy kid.” Conrad looks down at the hand Nero was holding, and then back to Nero. “Of course, you were my friend, well, you still are, but you know.”

Nero had to think again, and Conrad was patient enough to wait. “I think during that time… I’ve come to think I got like… you know…”

Nero fell silent again, and Conrad waited for him, he knew what he was trying to say, but he wanted to make sure, but then he heard a small sniff from Nero.

“Nero? Are you…?” Nero let go of Conrad’s hand to cover his face, which was still looking down.

“Nero? Are you ok?”

“I’m sorry, this is just… so hard…”

“I understand…”

Conrad lightly tugged on Nero’s hand and pulled him closer, resting Nero’s forehead on his chest. “Take your time, though I think I get what you’re trying to say.” Nero let out a sob. “But Nero, don’t you like Kyrie?” Conrad asked, trying to laugh, but it seemed to just come out as a smalll sob instead, as he started to cry as well. “Well, sure I like Kyrie, but… not like this…” Nero scooted slightly closer to give Conrad a hug, though he could only do it with one hand.

“I’m sorry.” Nero said quietly.

“Sorry?? Are you kidding? I should be THANKING you!”

Nero pulled away and looked at Conrad, who was smiling even though he was crying, Conrad laughed a little. “Why would you apologize? Do you honestly think I don’t feel the same way? I thought it was obvious!” Nero looked a bit confused, but seemed to smile anyways. “Now stop crying, you big sap.” Conrad said, wiping all of the tears away from Nero’s face, Nero smiled even more, and even let out a laugh.

“You’re crying too.”

“Yeah, well, I’m crying because I’m happy, you were crying because you thought I didn’t have feelings for you and had self doubts, which you shouldn’t have!”

Nero laughed again, looking away, his eyes tearing up again because of Conrad’s nice words.

“What did I say!” Conrad said jokingly.

“No, no! I’m crying from happiness now, no need to wipe your big hands all over my face again.” Nero said laughing, while wiping his face again.

“Also, the blood on your shirt kinda fuckin stinks.”

“It’s your blood.”

“My blood on your shirt fuckin stinks”

“Of what?”

“BLOOD.”

“Ok good, I thought it would have smelled like rotting flesh or something.”

“Blood doesn’t smell like flesh.”

“Well, I’m gonna change, you stay here.”

Conrad got up, patting Nero’s head. “And no more crying!”

[kysaito]

Happy Three Years!

November 3, 2018

Dear Karis,

Happy 3rd birthday! 

(As usual, this post is coming a little late.)

This year, we celebrated your birthday at least 6 times. :)

The first was at Griffith Park with Uncle Kenny, Rosa, Auntie Alice, and Grandma Fely. We had a picnic, then went on the carousel, then on the train, then you rode on a pony! (A kid in front of us was scared to leave his mommy to go on the pony, but you let go of my hand and walked straight into the ring without a glance back – you were so excited!)

Then on your actual birthday we did everything just as you planned it (yes, you were very specific about what you wanted). Here’s a version of what you would say to me leading up to your birthday:

“I want to be Cinderella, and Mama will be Pocahontas, and Auntie Lyssa will be Jasmine, and Grandma Fely can be Snow White, and Dada can be the Prince. And all the kids will sing, ‘Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Karis, happy birthday to you,’ like that, and then I’ll blow out my candles.”

You also mentioned wanting to go to Kid Space, and the day before your birthday, we went to eat dinner and played at a nearby arcade afterward, so you added a visit to the arcade to your birthday list, as well. And guess what… we did all that (and more!)

You and I went to IHOP for breakfast (we ordered the cupcake pancake combo), then I took you to preschool all dressed up in your Cinderella gown, glass slippers and all, then Grandma Jo brought strawberry cupcakes to school that she and Uncle B made (as you requested). You looked so happy and elegant, sitting there in the middle of the room at the table with the princess tablecloth, your friends sitting with you beaming excitedly – proud to be sitting at the same table as the birthday princess. After everyone sang happy birthday to you, you blew out your candles, then we packed up and went to Kidspace, then to dinner, then to the arcade, then back to our place – and you wore your Cinderella dress and crown proudly the whole time. At home, we had more cupcakes, then opened presents – so many princess presents!

You make me so proud, little Bear. I even made an Instagram post:

HBD, sweet Karis girl. You bring healing and light wherever you go and have made me braver, stronger, kinder, and just better. :) And you’ve helped me believe that tutus really can go with everything. Love you forever.

I love how brave and free you are. You seemed a little nervous as we were walking toward the classroom and I did start to worry that someone would say or do something to make you feel silly and want to change, or that maybe the teachers would have you change because your dress was too poofy to do activities or sleep during nap time. But when we returned at the end of the day for cupcake time, and I saw you sitting there surrounded by your friends, still in your dress, crown, and slippers, smiling proudly – I realized I didn’t need to worry about you at all. Aside from how beautiful you looked, what made me so proud was that I knew you feltbeautiful, and you weren’t letting self-consciousness or fear of what others might think keep you from soaking it all in.

One little girl even came up to me and told me she liked your dress, and a little boy came up to Grandma Jo and said he wanted to play with you, but that “Veda wouldn’t let me.” (Veda is your preschool BFF.)

We also celebrated with our small group and with Grandpa and Estella! And Kyrie and Auntie Danes took you out for a movie and ice cream, too. :) 

So let’s have a talk…about everything that happened since I last wrote! 

(You love starting conversations like that – “Let’s have a talk, Mama” – as you pat the seat beside you.)

You started preschool!

The biggest thing is probably that you started preschool! You go to the Enchanted Castle at Pasadena Montessori (sounds like a mouthful, but one day before we even intentionally taught you the name of your new school, you said, “Am I going to Pasadena Montessori today?”)

Caption: Your first day of preschool.

We were a little nervous about how you’d handle the transition from Judy’s to preschool, but you did so well! You jumped right in there and didn’t even look back (or shed a single tear!) Sometimes you’ll bring it up (“Remember how when I was a little girl, I used to go to Judy’s?”), but when I ask if you want to go back you say no because you’re “a big girl now.” The teachers tell us that everyone is falling in love with you and that you’re a happy little chatterbox. JYou come home telling us about playing with Veda, and the “jobs” you do (that’s what they call the assignments you work on), and how you took a numbers test… by the way, here’s one of the first numbers tests you brought home… 100%!

You’re a ballerina!

You also started ballet classes! You seem to love it – you are able to follow the routines the teacher shows you, and we can really see the concentration and determination in your eyes! You also practice your moves outside of class... click here and here to view your little airport ballet performances. :)

You are a happy, silly, funny, bold, generous, thoughtful, loving, insightful, artistic, beautiful little girl. 

I could go on but those words are ones I have pictures and stories I want to share about with you.

Happy, silly, funny. Those are actually your words. I was telling you one night about all the wonderful things you are, and you jumped in and finished my sentence with, “and happy… and silly… and funny…” I love that you use those words to describe yourself.

Bold. You’ve stepped up and gone to the front of the room when volunteers were asked for, even though we could tell you were feeling a little shy about it – from holding medium-sized snakes to being the magician’s assistant, and a few other things in between.

Generous. Mommy and Daddy went to Tijuana, Mexico in June to help build a house. When we came back and I was showing you pictures (Click here to see!) and telling you all about it, you kept saying (and still bring up at times) that you want to go to Mexico and build a house with us. And when I showed you a photo of the family, the first thing you said was, “How come the kids don’t have any shoes?” I explained that they didn’t have a lot of money, and you said, “I can give them my sparkle shoes.” And a few days ago, you caught a bag of toys that I had packed up to give away. It seemed that you were going to get upset (“Hey, that’s my elephant! That’s my Minnie toy!”), but then we sat down and I told you about how we were giving the toys away to kids who didn’t have any toys to play with… and you let it all go (and even brought up how you could give them your sparkle shoes, again).

Thoughtful. When an ambulance goes by or we see an accident on the road, you’ll ask what happened, and then pray. You also say the sweetest prayers at mealtime and bedtime. They’re usually something like, “Dear Jesus, thank you for… Help Mommy and Daddy to feel better… dear Jesus, amen.” More recently, your prayers for Mommy and Daddy have been replaced with, “Help Maggie to not eat grapes or pomegranates.” A few weeks ago, Grandma Fely hadn’t been doing too well because of her toothache. It had been a few days since we’d seen her, and I had forgotten all about it, but at dinnertime, out of nowhere you asked how Grandma Fely’s tooth was and wanted to call her. It made her day.

Loving. Daddy was sharing in front of the whole church last weekend, and you were sitting with me in the back. I was holding you up so you could see him, when you turned to me and said you wanted to go see him, so I put you down and said, “Okay, go ahead!” Then you ran all the way to the front and he picked you up and held you while he shared. Later, he asked why you came up to the front and you said, “because I love you.”

Insightful. Daddy and I were fighting one time and then daddy left. I found you sitting quietly in your room and when I apologized for the fighting, you responded ever so gently, “was it your fault?” while tapping my nose with your finger. That’s just one example of many when you’ve helped one of us re-center by gently speaking truth into us.

Artistic. I’m not sure this is the best word. But I feel like you’re a craftsman, for sure. You love drawing, painting, and tracing. You’re very precise and your drawings actually look like what you say they are!

Beautiful. We get told this all the time about you by strangers and friends alike, but you carry a unique beauty that I believe comes from the Holy Spirit’s presence on you. If there are kids around who you don’t know, you’ll want to befriend them. With the younger ones you do know, you like to take their hands and guide them. We want to the beach to watch Uncle Corey and Auntie Dana get baptized, and though we barely said anything to you about what was going on (just talked about it around you), you said to me at dinner later, in an almost distressed voice, “Mama, I didn’t get baptized!” (You actually said, “I didn’t get washtide” first and I had no idea what you were saying. I tried brushing it off – “oh don’t worry, we can get it another time,” but you were persistent in reiterating what you wanted until I understood.) You have a tender heart that makes your eyes sparkle.

You continue to make your way around the world.

You’ve been to Prague, Hawaii, Napa, San Francisco, San Diego, Big Bear, Ventura/Oxnard, and this year, Las Vegas, NV, Arizona, and North Carolina! 

(Las Vegas, NV) The “diamonds” at the Cosmopolitan, sun bathing and shark tank at the Golden Nugget. 

(Slide Rock, AZ) Sorry, not the best pic of you but I wanted you to see the rock slides! Your Daddy and I both went down -- very slippery and very cold!

Apple picking in North Carolina with Julia and Dennis!

Driving along Blue Ridge Parkway 

Your first East Coast College Tour -- to Duke and UNC (you slept through most of Duke).

Moravian Falls, in the presence of angels

Fearrington Farm

We just celebrated Halloween together as the Disney royals (per your request)

Things I’ve been learning…

Your dad cherishes me… and I could do a better job of cherishing him. Cherishing is love that goes out of its way to honor, protect, showcase, encourage, and bring out the best. If I want to see someone change for the better, I should make the effort to intentionally cherish them. This means affirming them in how far they’ve come rather than pointing out how far they have to go, it means conquering contempt and the temptation to critique by protecting them and practicing thankfulness. Cherishing can bring healing and bring out the best in someone – where criticizing never will. Cherishing is a choice. (This is all from Cherish by Gary Thomas.)

Take care of the little ruptures. Sometimes when I’m upset with someone, I struggle with whether to say something or not. But if I don’t say it and can’t let it go, then I start building up resentment… and then love for that person starts to fade. “Love doesn’t magically disappear, but it can slip away if you’re not choosing to fight for it over and over” (228). “There were 1,000 little ruptures that never got repaired” (227). (This is from I’d Like You More If You Were More Like Me, John Ortberg.) If the person matters to you, even if it’s uncomfortable or you just don’t feel like it, it’s worth it to take the time to address the little ruptures.

Be willing to interrupt what you’re doing, even if it’s inconvenient, to put the things that matter most first! There are so many times I’m faced with decisions and I’m not sure what to do, or I don’t even think and just choose based on what’s most convenient in the moment! I find that I often pick the thing that makes me look better to others – even if it means sacrificing my health, time with you, time with God, or compromising how I treat Daddy. Those are the very things that give me strength and joy. Without them, I get run-down and defeated. But with them, I am strong, content, and at peace. When you find your everyday decisions pulling you away from the things that ultimately matter most to you, stop, and force yourself to choose those things first.

Shake the dust off your feet… there’s just no pleasing them all. This keeps coming up again and again for me, and I have a feeling it will for you, too – simply because you’re my daughter. And also (this is a secret from 3-year-old you) but you’re already exhibiting signs of possibly being an achievement-oriented perfectionist (sorry). You can do your best and someone will think you’re not good enough. You can have pure intentions and someone will be offended by you. You can be nice and someone will think you have a secret agenda. You can try over and over to make things right with people, to make them see what you intended, to make them own your version of the truth… but you will lose lots of sleep, harbor too much anger and hurt, and you will always feel very, very tired. Oh, and it still won’t be enough. So again, focus on what’s true and unwavering and the people who matter most. Be willing to fight for those things. But beyond that… “shake the dust off your feet” and move on. Leave the rest to God’s judgement. (Matthew 10:14-15).

I love you so much my sweet precious Karis girl.

P.S. Other fun photos from these past few months...

Obon, July 2018

Kidspace (You insisted on sitting in the back while someone drove you, and refused to accept that I wasn’t going to fit in the driver’s seat... then this little boy drove up and offered to take you for a ride. The Kidspace employee commented, “she was made to be chauffeured.”)

Showing up in style for a drizzly day at Kidspace (you picked your outfit)

Tanaka Farms with Cam

Goofballs.

Doing the Worm at the family reunion/Cousins’ 50th in Vegas.