#I really enjoyed the descent into the guts of a nightmare so far

[st-hedge]

I couldn’t send myself off to sleep without drawing something of this weirdo!

[mooshs-crack-headcanons]

Gn!reader comforting dante after a nightmare please?

Can you say: 'angst?' 😅 I hope you enjoy

(Cw just in case: angst, emotional distress, dmc 1 trauma)

Things have been...uneasy for Dante since his last job. 

He wouldn't talk about it, which wasn't exactly new to you, but ever since you and Lady returned to Capulet after a job that yourselves took that had you out of the area for a few weeks and you came back to the shop to find evidence the the place had been sacked and everything from the dusty busted up couch to the old desk that had been sitting in the same spot for a decade tossed around and broken, pieces scattered across the shop also not to mention there looked to be a fire at some point with how there were now charred marks on the floor and walls. When asked by Lady what the hell had happened his answer was simple, cold and dead: "Job." 

After you guys worked to clean the place up, as if you could physically feel the tension growing and growing from the man as he sat there on the only unbroken piece of furniture in the whole office, his chair, staring dead silent at the picture of his mother nicely propped next to him on the ground. The subject was quickly dropped.

It wasn't long before Dante's attitude came back to him, with his shiny new desk he could prop his feet onto and new array of furniture that you convinced Lady to go help you buy with your cut of the money from your job together filled his shop, things felt like they went back to how they were before. You and Lady were taking in the jobs that came in while Dante declared himself on 'vacation' that mainly consisted of him sitting at his desk with a magazine over his eyes - not that you minded, you just appreciated he was actually taking time to rest, but it wasn't long before what truly happened on that last job needed to be addressed again. 

You were in the kitchen making a cup of coffee while looking through the mail, going through all the normal things you expect to see when getting the mail; bills, sales ads, and even more bills. However one important thing you do see and one you've been seeing for quite some time now was postcards addressing Dante. Now in all your time you've known the son of Sparda you have never once gotten postcards from anyone and they were all signed with a woman's name you did not recognize; Trish. Now you never really read what neatly scrawled onto the back out of respect for privacy, but you trusted your boyfriend and every time they came in you politely gave them to him for he looked them over and put them in a drawer in his desk. 

You take a sip of your might of coffee before gathering up the postcard and bills into your hand and aim to drop them off at Dante's desk so he can look them over when he wakes up from his scheduled magazine nap of the day. A loud hellish crackle throughout the air and slam onto wooden flooring makes you drop the papers in your hands instead of the relative easy pace you usually take to come out from the kitchen and into the office you're quickly up to arms grabbing your gun from the kitchen table and ready to fire at any demonic threat the moment you bash through the door but instead your met with Dante in devil trigger on the floor fallen out of his chair, desperately clutching at his face. You waste no time running over and dropping to the ground next to him. 

"You alright?" 

You go in to touch him only for clawed fingers to push you away, taking you back a little but you shake off and apologize. He shakes his head as he finally does speak, his voice distorted but you can still hear the human shakiness in it. 

"No, I'm good. Just a dream - just a dream." The way he spoke sounded more like he was telling himself that more than he was reassuring you. 

He closes his eyes and quickly fazes out of his demon form, the human one flashing before you. Now you can see the sweat drenching his face that causes his hair to stick to his forehead. 

Now you've had deal with Dante having nightmares before, the ones about his mother and brother and how he blames himself for...everything that happened to them, main one you've heard from him is if he had just let Vergil read that damn book instead of bugging him to play that they might still all be together today. 

Words swell in your throat as you watch him go get himself back up, white hair slipping over to curtain your view of his eyes as he stood to his feet and plumped onto his desk. Your eyes sadden as you watch him as he wipes a gloved hand over his face to clean off of the sweat clinging to his flesh until it's all visibly gone but soon he stills and keeps his face covered leather clad talons digging into his own temples until there's a point you swear you can see blood - his whole then body seems to just…lax. In such a still stone fashion as it becomes unnerving to watch. 

It's a few moments of heavy tension filled silence before either of you speak again but when it does it's actually Dante to be the one to speak, the statue unstones as he just seems to light with life with the exact moment the mask of facade slips on. 

"You hungry? Because I'm starving and you know what they say? You're not you when you're hungry or some bullshit right? I'll get us a pizza." 

How he turns and picks up the phone like it was just like it was any other conversation and nothing even happened is heartbreaking. He goes to press in Fredi's number that he knows by heart but is immediately stopped by you as you jump up and slam your hand on top of his and crash the phone back into the receiver, your voice cuts out any bullshit that the son of Sparda could have possibly pull out of his ass as you look him directly into his eyes and call him out by his name, your tone soft yet abrupt and bluntly straightforward. He wasn't going to bluff out and run away from this, no matter how much he wanted to you wouldn't let him. 

You stand right in front of him, in between his legs and making direct eye contact with him, Dante shutters out a breath as his churning gut begins to shake his core less and less as he focuses on the touch on his hand, how warm yours is as it comfortably squeezes his and makes him more aware of himself. Had he really been shaking this entire time? 

Your expression softens the more and more that you look at him until eventually he lets you snake an arm that isn't holding his hand around him and just feel as he seems to just melt against you. 

The two of you say that way for a while, he buries his face into your neck/chest and lets you comb and pet your fingers through his hair. You collect your thoughts before pushing him back slightly and raise his chin up to meet your gaze. 

"You don't have to talk about it, Dante. But I'm not letting you just pretend like everything's fine when both you and I know clearly that isn't the case. Bottling in all those complex feelings isn't good for anyone, even, and especially for someone as strong as you who's been through so damn much for far too long. Just...hold onto me, okay? For as long as you want, anything you need. And if you do want to talk about it-" Your voice carries off. "-I'll always be here to listen."

He takes in your word, conflicted. His eyes flickered over to stare at the wooden flooring and you can actually see him go through and argue with his own thoughts before he looks back to you, opening his mouth with an airy pause before letting out a sigh. 

He tells you everything, in full detail, everything about his last job. 

From Mundus' resurrection plan on Mallet Island, to answering a few of your earlier questions about that woman from the postcards - Trish a demon Mundus made in identical image of Dante's mother, the trails he faced all over the island leading him into hell itself to defeat Mundus, and most notably, his reunion with his brother after almost ten years - who from what you understood was barely a shadow of his former arrogant self; corrupt, brainwashed, broken. How he fought him, he killed him with his own hands. How maybe none of this would've happened if he just let him read that damn book or if he just had grabbed and yanked his ass and stopped his descent into the further depths of hell, what turned him into...who he fought. 

It's hard to listen to him as he spills out every single unheld back dark thought of his, but you let him finish no matter how much it hurts or terrifies you, you let him finish until he's out of words and practically sobbing into your arms, then you only hold onto him tighter. 

He looks visibly tired by the time he recollects himself, he apologizes for it but you shake your head and hold the sides of his face and remain quiet only pressing a soft kiss to his lips before telling him how much you love him and how proud you are that he managed to tell you what he did. Talking through it is the first step to healing and all. He hums as he rests his head onto you and holds you close, succumbing to the feeling in his chest and closing his eyes for just for a little while, even though he knows he shouldn't sleep just sitting at his desk with you just standing there with how long you've been like this your feet are most like tired, but he absorbs every little touch you make as he slowly lulls away.

This was was from over, both he and you knew that, wounds and events are still fresh in his mind and it would still be a few years until he goes through the worst of it (*cough cough* there's still dmc 2 era to go through *cough cough*) but even when he's through his worse - but Dante's glad that he can feel at least a small bit of solace in the comfort in your arms. 

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Tagging list

@calamitysaiyan @blacktalonsb @lokilover476 @fandomtrashgoddess @radeendaweed

How to be added to the tagging list + additional info

[circus4apsycho8]

lemon drops. | ii | ib ~ garry x reader

chapter i here.

~ two ~

Rest assured your name will be spelled correctly in my contacts :)

It’s you! I’m glad to hear it.

Idk if you’ll be free but I was going to stop by the coffee shop again today

After my classes. Thinking about talking a walk or something after

I can certainly make another stop there

A walk? Any particular trail in mind?

Not really. I’ll probably just stroll through town

I like the sound of that. What time are you done with your classes?

A smile appears on your lips as you sort the details of your next meetup with Garry out. That turned out pretty well, despite the fact you had been a little nervous to text him. In any case, you hop off of your bed, noting that it’s time for you to get ready for class.

With that thought in mind, you mindlessly proceed throughout your morning routine. After your belongings are in hand, you open the door to your room before stepping out into the hallway. As you gently pull it shut, the sound of small footsteps catches your attention.

“Morning!” your little sister greets, grinning widely as you bend down to give her a hug.

“Hey, Ib. Did you sleep well?”

“I did! Did you?”

“I slept well enough,” you reply, listening to her as the two of you start making your way downstairs.

“That’s good. I had a really weird dream.”

“Oh? Do you remember what it was about?”

“Kind of,” she answers as the two of you reach the bottom of the staircase, both turning towards the kitchen. “I just remember a scary-looking face. It was blue and had weird eyes and a creepy smile.”

“That sound scary,” you mumble, ruffling her hair a little bit. “I’m sorry you had to dream about that.”

“Thanks, but it wasn’t that bad. I just hope I don’t have to dream about it again.”

“Hopefully you won’t have to,” you say, spying your parents in the living room. “Good morning.”

They look up, both sending you a smile. “Morning girls. Sleep well?”

“I did. Ib said she had a nightmare, though.”

“Oh no! What was it about?” your mom asks, shifting her gaze to Ib.

“A creepy doll or something…it just kept staring at me.”

“Well, it can’t hurt you now,” you dad adds, smiling softly. You nod, about to say something when you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket. A glance at the screen reveals that it’s a message from Garry:

Look at what I found!!

Attached is a picture of a chunky little groundhog peacefully nibbling on a patch of grass. You giggle quietly, typing a quick response:

Oh, that’s so cute!

“What’re you giggling at?” questions your father, taking a sip from his coffee as he eyes you.

“Oh, a friend just sent me a meme,” you reply, slipping your phone back into your pocket.

“I see.”

“Well, we hope you both have a great day. Take snacks if you need them, and be careful on your way there and back!”

“We will, Mom. Love you guys!”

“We love you too. Stay safe!”

…

The day drags on as normal once you drop Ib off at her school. Every class had been filled with you impatiently checking the time every so often. With every passing minute, you grew more and more excited about your upcoming meeting with Garry.

Since you get out earlier than Ib does today, that means you can walk with Garry before you pick her up. You have about two hours before that rolls around, and Garry should be at the coffee shop by the time you arrive.

As soon as your last class ends, you gather your belongings quickly before exiting. You mentally groan when you see that the elevator already has a line of people waiting for its ascent, so you decide to take the stairs again.

Thankfully, the light spring in your step makes the descent a bit easier to bear this time around. You’re on the ground floor before you know it.

Once more, the cool breeze envelopes your skin the moment you step outside. A soft smiles lines your lips as you pull out your phone, opening your messages app:

Hey Garry! I’m on my way now, I should be there in about five minutes or so

I’ll be waiting :)

“Nice,” you mumble as you read the message, stuffing your phone back in your pocket afterwards. The walk this time around seems much shorter than it was yesterday. Not that you’re complaining, because it seems like forever since you’ve wanted to talk to someone like this.

Soon enough, you find yourself in front of the café again. You push the door open, glancing inside to find Garry sitting at the same spot, phone in hand.

“Garry!”

He turns before smiling, standing up as you make your way over to him.

“Hello there!” he greets.

“Hey,” you respond. “How are you?”

“I’m doing well, and how about yourself?”

“I’m fine, thank you.” You really like how he’s so well-mannered, and actually enunciates his words. It sends a fluttery feeling to your stomach – one that feels almost nostalgic in an odd way.

“I decided it would be better if we ordered together, since we’re walking,” he says as the two of you approach the counter.

“Oh, thank you.”

“Of course.”

With that, the two of you place your orders before waiting at the end of the counter again. The silence between the two of you is comfortable, thankfully. You’re still excited, but part of you is growing a bit nervous now.

You dart from thought to thought for a few minutes before the barista slides your drinks onto the counter, smiling at the two of you. You realize it’s the same one that served you yesterday.

“Hey guys! Good to see you again. Sorry about the mix-up yesterday.”

“That’s quite all right,” Garry replies. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it!” you add, picking up your drink. “Thank you so much!”

“You’re welcome. Have a great day, guys.”

“You too!”

With that, the two of you swiftly exit the coffee shop, prepared for the walk.

You notice Garry has gone silent, staring ahead distantly. You follow his gaze, only to see that the old art gallery is the subject of his attention.

“Ever been in there?” you question.

“I visited it once, almost a year or so ago,” he comments, frowning.

“Funny. I went around a year ago too,” you say. Could that have been where you saw him?

“Interesting. Perhaps that’s where we saw each other?”

“It could be,” you note. “Wait. My sister went too. Maybe she’d recognize you, since she was with me that day?”

“Oh, maybe!”

“You should come with me when I go to pick her up from school, then. Her memory is way better than mine.”

He laughs a little, closing his eye as he does so. It makes you wonder why he hides his other eye behind his hair. “How long do you have until then?”

“A little under two hours,” you say, stepping a little closer to Garry in order to give passing people more room to walk. The two of you are still outside of the coffee shop, studying the art gallery intently.

“Ah, plenty of time.”

“Yeah. So, which way should we go?”

“I say we begin by heading right. From there, we can just go where the wind takes us.”

“I like the sound of that,” you say as the two of you start walking.

From there, you both fall into another comfortable silence. It seems to be a bit more thoughtful this time around, but as you sip on your drink and view your surroundings, you feel your shoulders relaxing more and more. How long had it been since you just enjoyed time with a friend like this?

For the most part, it remains quiet, but the two of you exchange a bit of get-to-know-the-other questions. You’re surprised at how comfortable you feel with him. It’s…natural. Like this is how things are supposed to be. Despite this, you know there’s something you’re missing.

It takes you a second to realize that Garry has stopped, leaving you a few feet in front of him. He’s turned towards the forest encircling the town, his eye apparently having been caught.

“Garry? Is something wrong?”

“I… No, but…well, I can’t quite explain it. But I feel like…” he trails off, frowning as he steps forward. Curiosity piqued, you follow him, staying quiet when he bends down to look at something.

“This,” he states, picking the object up. You frown, going to look at it.

“A blue petal?” you wonder, frowning. “What’s that doing here? It’s fall, and there are no blue flowers over here.”

Your friend nods in agreement. “I have the strangest feeling that I should hold onto this.”

“Then keep it somewhere safe. Your gut is almost always right.”

You’re about to add something when…

“Ow!” you cry, grunting as a sharp pain emanates from your head. It’s like a headache, but way more intense.

You hear Garry saying your name before he too cries out, kneeling down as well. You clutch your skull, willing for the pain to subside, when…

A/N: Thanks for the support on this series so far! I hope you enjoyed. I hope that the next chapter will be out soon. Reblogs, likes, and comments are all highly appreciated <3333 Also, please let me know if you'd like to be tagged for updates :D

[1-of-those-things]

Fic Writer Review

Tagged by the lovely @picnokinesis (This is great. I love this!)

1. How many works do you have on Ao3?

40 (But 3 are published anonymously. Don’t worry about why.)

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count?

313,378 (Good Lord)

3. How many fandoms have you written for?

Just Doctor Who. And just since 2020. The fandom bug got me!

4. Top 5 fics by kudos?

Biological Specificity (239) — The gateway drug to Doctor/Donna (and Interspecies Compatibility as a series)

It Has Been 0 Days Since the Last Incident (237) — This one probably gets a boost because it’s got Tentoo/Rose in the tags, but it’s really Doctor/Donna like always. Sorry bout the cat-fishing. Sometimes you just wanna write Ten, Donna, Tentoo and Rose all traveling around the Universe together!

The Best of Times (Amnesiac Remix) (236) — Just a classic fix-it where a bunch of aliens follow a mind-wiped Donna around. Bog-standard, really.

Acclimatization (234) — The second in the Interspecies Compatibility Series, or as I like to think of it, the beginning of the descent into Doctor/Donna madness

Survival Without Recovery (192) and Lazarus Taxon (192)— The official ending of the Interspecies Compatibility Series and an optional epilogue. Always impressed how many people make it all the way through that series. So much love for this fandom!

5. Do you respond to comments? Why/why not?

Oh yeah I respond to ALL of my comments. If I miss one I’ll go back later and apologize lol. I’m so genuinely impressed that anyone other than me likes my writing— anyone who goes through the trouble to let me know they liked it gets all the love from me.

6. A fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

I can’t help it, I like all of my fics to have at least a hopeful ending XD. But (It Breaks You Down) A Little Bit More Each Time probably involves the most angst overall.

7. Do you write crossovers?

Nah, I can barely read them.

8. Ever received hate on a fic?

Nope! If my fics are ruining people’s days they’re successfully keeping it to themselves lol

9. Do you write smut?

OH, YES! More than I mean to, if I’m honest. (When did THAT happen?)

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not as far as I know!

11. Ever had a fic translated?

Nope, I’d imagine it’d be a nightmare considering how many colloquialisms I just throw around.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic?

I’ve collabed with the brilliant @fritzmetzger and @denzikken on three fics (One of which is coming out this week!)

I might've also accidentally co-written a fic with @theoreticalabsurdity @echo84 @krebkrebkreb and @picnokinesis that I think is on schedule for next week. (My part is done anyway!)

13. All time fav ship?

SHOCKINGLY it’s Doctor/Donna. I just love their dynamic so much! Even when I multiship it just ends up poly so I can get my Doctor/Donna fix.

14. WIP you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

OK all of my WIP’s live in secret shame files on my computer because the pressure of having a WIP out in the world might literally kill me. But within that… I was thinking of doing a follow-up to The Volatile Nature of Binary Stars with more Doctor/Donna/Master vibes. Considering I might be the only person on the planet who would enjoy that though... it keeps falling to the end of my very long list of random inspirations.

15. Writing strengths?

I seem to be good at humor. So that’s something! I also like to slide genuine emotion in, but make it sNeAkY so it hits with maximum impact. That seems to go over well, based on the number of reviews I get with phrases like “gut punch” XD. Also every time someone compliments me on my characterizations I definitely get that ’swallowed a hamster’ experience.

16. Writing weaknesses?

Endings! I’m so bad at endings, fam. I love setting up a whole elaborate setting and then I just kind of get too into it and forget I was supposed to be going somewhere or building to something. I just want to keep going! So I have to keep track of all my loose threads and make sure I’m actually doing something with them lol. (This is why most of my fics cap out around the 30K mark max. Keeping track of plot after that is just a bridge too far.)

17. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic?

I usually just end up doing it in English or explaining my way around it instead of trying to type out another language. Though in my case they’re mainly alien languages that I’d have to make up. And that just seems like A Lot.

18. First fandom you wrote for?

Doctor Who, baby! I’ve literally only been in this game since 2020. Lockdown GOT me.

19. What’s your fav fic you’ve written so far?

This is hard because I become emotionally attached to all my fic monsters, but my favorite monster is… Oh, damn it’s a tie. I can’t decide between The Noble Neverwere and The Volatile Nature of Binary Stars.

The Volatile Nature of Binary Stars was fun for me because it has Angry!Donna AND the Master. And I just kind of want there to be more Doctor/Donna/Master dynamics out in the world. Especially when Donna’s (justifiably!) pissed at the Doctor for abandoning her.

The Noble Neverwere gets a special place in my heart as a fic that I actually plotted out and painstakingly put together. (If Donna seems a little OOC at first that’s part of the plot, not because I lost my damn mind. Though that second option is definitely a risk.)

But yeah, really I love all my fics a little too much. I’m in the camp of “I wrote this for me, but you can read it too,” and I’m always so happy that so many people take me up on that XD

20. Tag!

This was great fun! I definitely recommend it. I'm going to tag a handful of writers (not including the ones who were literally just tagged with me): @nostalgia-tblr @raywritesthings @lilsum4 @veraynes-blog @colorofmymindposts and anyone else who wants to do it!

[r3b3lgrrrrrrrl]

A LunaTic and Her Gunn (Part 115 2Xs2) "True Intentions"

@crystalbaby12 @backoftheroomandnotbelonging @5sosfam1dlover @rosefilledhearts-blog

"I've got different colored sticky tabs for the different spaces." Luna announces as she enters her storage unit.

Jackie and Sam are there with The Movers. Luna goes through picking out which pieces will go to The Brownstone, her Studio Apartment and the Recording Studio she just bought. She had signed the closing paperwork electronically with Monica and Ben earlier this week on the latter properties. The Apartment is ready but the Recording Studio needs a contractor for the equipment installation. Jackie being on top of that, they start the gutting process next week. Everything else is being moved out today.

"Whoah!!! Be carful with that!!" Sam cries out in concern as she watches The Movers roughly handle an original, stretched Mapplethorpe.

"What the FUUUUUCK." Luna groans as she rubs her forehead. "Why wasn't that crated?" She asks no one in particular as her phone rings. "Hello?" She sighs into the receiver.

It's Kylie. Luna's therapist. Calling because it's 2P on every other Thursday. Luna excuses herself, trusting Sam and Jackie while she finds an empty stairwell.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

"It's just conflicting, Ky... " Luna let's out with an annoyed sigh and a cloud of smoke from her pen while playing with Colson's padlock around her neck.

She's been on the phone with Kylie for the last 45mins talking about everything and anything. Colson, Justin, trust, feeling over exposed, setting up the lable. Her therapist advising her to breathe as always and to make a Pros and Cons list regarding marrying Colson. Knowing there is no option, Luna humors her with an Okay before they get off the phone.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

"How do we look?" Luna asks after coming back in from the stairwell.

"Good." Jackie begins to reassure her. "Everything you want is loaded into the two trucks. I'm gonna ride to The Brownstone and Sam to The Apartment... Uhm, Lee said you're good to go at Electric Lady Land around 7P... "

"And I talked to Mikey, he'll be there no problem." Sam chimes in.

"You guys are fucking AWESOME. Thank you." Luna pulls them in for a three way hug. "I gotta go meet Petey." She informs them once they release. "You guys good without me?" She asks.

Both women nod. Giving promises of phones calls if there's any problems as Luna heads back towards the stairwell; popping another XR and two 30s during her descent. It shouldn't be THAT hard... They're only responsible for moving half of her life.

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Colson gets in touch with The Boys and heads to Amsterdam Billiards for pool and beers. Popping his own handful of Adderall along the way. Stepping out of the cab, Mod greets him with an excited hug.

"What up, Kid!" He squeezes his unhappy friend. "Aww, come on... Don't be like that, you know Luna'll come around. She always does." Mod tells him with a slap on the back as they walk inside.

Benny, Baze, AJ, Rook and Slim have a table racked up. Mod grabs more beers as Colson joins them. They're all talking about the GMA performance. Agreeing it was killer. While Rook also can't stop talking about Jackie.

"Good luck with that, Rookie. I don't think Loons is doing any of us any favors right now." Colson sighs as he leans down to break.

"Shit. Speak for yourself, that's my homie, Dawg." Rook disagrees with him as he swigs his beer.

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Luna meets Pete on The Delancey's rooftop bar. He's already sat when she walks in. Noticing her, he stands for them to hug Hello. His normal excitement clearly missing as she orders a drink.

"I heard you and Colson got into it after I left." Luna cuts right to the core.

"Yeah. He wants to blame me for him running his mouth." Pete starts to complain to Luna's silence. "Like I started all this shit."

"You kinda did... I love you Petey but whether I cheated on Colson or Justin, like I told you last night, it's none of your business. My betrayal didn't land on you or even Colson so really the two of you are fighting over some shit that doesn't even concern you. It's that simple." Luna explains.

"So you did cheat on Beebs?" Pete asks her, ignoring everything else she had said.

"Yeah, Petey. I told you last night that I had an affair. I'm not proud of it but it happened." Luna shrugs as she fights back tears of guilt.

"Who was it?" He pries.

"What? No. You don't get to ask questions like that... Like, I don't understand why this feels like you're mad at me for some reason. I didn't do ANYTHING to you." Luna furrows her eyebrows at him as she takes a sip of her drink.

"Yeah but you did do something to my friend that he never did to you." Pete looks into his beer and then up at Luna.

"You didn't know Justin and I's relationship as well as you think you did. Just like you don't know nearly as much about me and Colson as you think you may. My turn? Your judgmental attitude towards me is really disappointing and if you're so worried about your FRIENDS than go make up with the one that's still in town. I'm outta here though." Luna swallows the rest of her Old Fashioned with two gulps. "Hit me up when you're done being a dick." She calls over her shoulder as she walks out of the bar.

---------------------------------------------------

Mike's sitting alone outside of Electric Lady Land when Luna arrives. Lighting a cigarette, he looks up. Green eyes taking her in as he stands to grab her guitar case from her.

"What's goin' on, Luna?" He asks as he sits back down and takes a drag from his Marlboro.

Luna fishes around in her bag for her joint box and flask. Finding them both, she takes a swig before offering it over to his acceptance. Lighting a joint, she sighs out a cloud of smoke as they sit in silence. Sometimes no talking is good.

After a while Sam shows up. The three of them head inside to meet up with Lee. Thanking him, he tells Luna no one was even booked as they begin to set up in Studio A.

Realizing they need producers, Luna calls Slim. Then Snaps Colson. Setting her bag on the table, she pulls out supplies. Weed, whiskey, cigarettes and more weed. Popping another few 30s before laying her guitar back onto her body.

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"Yeah! No problem, we'll be down there ASAP." Slim says into his phone. "That was LunaTic, she wants us to come produce the track." He says excitedly to Baze once he hangs up. "Dawg! We gonna make some music in Jimi Hendrix's fucking spot, Yo!!" He exclaims as they slap hands across the pool table.

Colson's just about to put his two sense in when his phone goes off. Digging in his pocket, it's not the message he was expecting. It's a Snap from Luna.

"If I want? What kind of fucking shit is that?" He scoffs in his mind. "Why's she so fucking hot even while she's being such a fucking a bitch." He finds himself becoming annoyed with how much he wants her and her resistance towards him. He shoves his phone back in his pocket without responding.

The Boys are getting ready to head to  Greenwich Village when Colson's phone goes off again. It's the message he's been waiting for. Telling The Boys he'll meet up with them later, he's out the door before they pay the tab.

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Luna's leaned towards Mike in the booth when Colson walks in. He can't hear them but he doesn't like that he can see him making her laugh. Mike's a little to comfortable in his interactions with Luna in Colson's personal opinion. Luna catches the back of his blonde hair and significant tattoo as she looks up, watching as he walks out of the room. He quickly heads down the hall towards the bathroom, promptly pulling out the quarter ounce of cocaine he'd grabbed from Nipple.

Colson walks back into the studio just as Luna, Sam and Mike begin recording. Sitting with Slim and Baze at the soundboard, he grabs a pair of headphones and slips them on. Listening and watching intently. Luna can feel his eyes burning straight into her soul.

Nailing it on the third full take, they leave it alone. Luna doesn't want it mixed. Layered, yes but not mixed. She's always preferred the gritty, garage rock sound over studio polish any day. Coming out of the booth, she approaches Colson as he stands up.

"You came." She purrs with a drunken slur to her sentence as she wraps her arms around his waist.

"I go where you go, Kitten. Always." He promises her before lifting her chin to kiss her deeply; enjoying their first real kiss of the day but opening his eyes half way through to stare down Mike from around the side of the top of her head.

Hanging out afterwards, they celebrate with beers and lines. Luna declining as everyone else partakes in Colson's party favor. Having done enough other drugs all day, she's still buzzing from earlier so she's solid without it. Preferring to burn and drink instead.

"What do you have recorded so far?" Mike asks Luna about her upcoming album.

"I think maybe three out of an ambitious twenty!" Luna laughs softly at herself.

"I'm down to help with anything you need." Mike offers as he passes her a joint.

"Thanks... I'm probably gonna take you up on that." Luna answers. "I don't really have a band right now and we... "

"That's why you got us." Rook interrupts her while plunking down on the couch beside her and tossing an arm around her shoulders; he doesn't like the way Mike has been hanging around Luna either.

"That I do." Luna giggles as she kisses his cheek.

"We backed her on Nightmare and I produced Outlaw." Rook declares proudly while studying to the musician.

"That's cool, Little Man." Mike responds unfazed by Rook as he stands up. "Luna, you got my number if you wanna use it for anything. I gotta run though." He smirks at Rook as he leans down to peck her cheek.

"You want me to walk you out?" She offers.

"Nah, I'm good... I'll catch you around though." Mike smiles at her before heading for the door.

Watching the entire interaction, Colson follows behind him. Calling out his name, he catches him in the hallway right at the front door. Mike turns around unamused.

"You know we're engaged, right?" Colson questions him with an irritated tone.

"Yeah... And?" Mike cuts back while cocking his lip.

"AND? And I don't like the way you fucking act around her so back the fuck up." Colson snaps at him.

"Gonna be kinda hard since it seems that SHE wants ME as her new bassists." Mike laughs at him while slapping him on the shoulder.

"Gonna be kinda hard to play ANYTHING when I snap your fucking fingers." Colson warns him as he shoves Mike up against the wall; Mike's 6'2 so there's not much of a height difference between them.

"Try it, My Man." Mike chuckles, unimpressed by Colson's threat.

"You know what, you're right... " Colson let's him off of the wall. "Maybe I overreacted." He says as he opens the door for Mike and he begins to walk through. "Or maybe I FUCKING didn't!" Colson growls as he grabs Mike's right hand and jerks him back.

Slamming it with the door, in between the frame. One. Two. Three. Four times. Most likely breaking it.

"YOU PIECE OF FUCKING SHIT!" Mike screams as he grasps his mangled hand.

"You can walk away right now or you can crawl away with two broken legs also." Colson advises as he props the door open again.

"You're gonna FUCKING regret this." Mike snarls to Colson's emotionless stare as he holds his hand and turns to leave. "That was a bad fucking move, My Man." He calls out from the sidewalk.

"Maybe it was... Maybe it wasn't... But DAMN if it didn't feel good." Colson walks back to the studio with a pep in his step for the first time today; having released a majority of his stress. "I never liked that motherfucker anyway." He thinks as he opens the door, looking to locate only Luna. Knowing in the back of his mind that her and Sam are gonna probably fuck him up for what he just did but he doesn't care. Fuck that Dude, he doesn't want him around Luna regardless of the cost.

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"There's stuff!!" Rook exclaims pointing at the large, round arial rug, crates and boxes in The Living Room as they return to The Brownstone. Everyone but Luna is zooted, even Sam. "Yo!!" Check out these fucking chairs!" Rook continues to holler, now from The Study.

It's also stacked with boxes of Luna's books and vinyls. Having one wall with floor to ceiling bookshelves, she's looking forward to using them. Walking in, she finds Rook lounging on one of the two highback, purple velvet chairs she owns along with the exposed Mapplethorpe.

"What's up with that picture?" Rook asks as he accepts a beer from Luna.

"My grandfather shot it." She tells him proudly as they clink their beers together.

"It's really cool. Like the two flowers are reaching out for each other. Like death grasping for life." He says thoughtfully.

"I think that's what he was going for." Luna smiles to herself, admiring the exceptional piece.

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Luna makes her way upstairs to the shower. Turning Fletcher on, she lights up a joint as she cuts up another two 30s and swallows two Xanax bars. It's been a long day, she hasn't been to sleep in almost 48hrs and she's incredibly shaky from all the Adderall. Wanting to simply wash everything away and knock the fuck out.

"Hey... " Colson's sitting on the bed when she comes out of the bathroom.

"Hi." She answers as she stops and looks at him with a sigh.

"Please come're, Luna." He asks for her as he reaches his arms out yet again.

This time she does. Sitting on his lap in her towel, she wraps her arms around him and nuzzles her head into her spot in the crook of his neck. Resting his chin on her head, Colson and Luna hold each other silently besides his constant sniffling.

"Loons, I'm sorry." Colson speaks first. "I shouldn't... "

"Please. I'm SO tired." Luna whines. "But, Colson, it's not the secret that you told. I would've told Justin had he cared to notice or ask. It's that you told A secret because I've got bigger ones than that. You have no idea." She sighs sadly.

"Like what, Kitty?" Colson pries with concern.

"Seriously, I am so fucking tired, Col. Can I please just sleep. I promise I'll tell you everything." She pleads with him as the Xanax begins to take over.

"Okay... " Colson agrees as he kisses her forehead. "Lay with you?" He asks.

"There's no way you can lay down right now... Just come to bed eventually, please." Luna requests.

"Yeah." He promises "I love you." He tells her before taking her face in his hands and kissing her passionately.

"I love you too." She kisses him lightly on the lips again once they release before crawling off of his lap.

Dropping her towel, Luna climbs into their bed. Wrapping herself in the warm, custom blanket, she snuggles into the pillow with heavy exhaustion. Colson leans down and kisses her cheek. Dropping another I love you into her ear as she mumbles the same. She's out before he closes the door.

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Colson, Sam, Baze, Rook, AJ, Benny, Mod and Slim are downstairs for the next few hours. Jamming, talking uncontrollably and bouncing in and out off the front stoop to smoke cigarettes as they blow through the bag of coke. 

The house is still bare so they decide it's a good idea to start setting Luna's books up on the shelves. They're all high as fuck, doing whatever they want. Sam and Mod begin trying to organize her vast collection but are making no sense. Baze gets caught up in a hardback limited edition entitled The Great Big Book of Rock and Roll. Slim and Colson are in awe when they open a box of her records. Sitting on the floor, they start going through them like little kids in a candy store. Rook's really flying and gets bored quickly, heading into The Living Room to beat his energy out on his new drum kit. Benny and AJ are the only chill ones as always. Maxed out in the purple chairs, they continuesly puff on and pass blunts to the other wackos. Luna sleeping through it all.

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Sam and Colson find themselves out on the stoop alone. Their normal awkward silence is gone as cocaine fuels their conversation. Talking all things Luna. This is one of the reasons Sam barely hits the slopes, she talks too fucking much when she's on 'em.

"You can't be mad at Pete." She offers up her opinion. "Luna's like another little sister to him." She tries to explain.

"Yeah but he's supposed to be my bestfriend." Colson disagrees.

"I get that... So can't you understand the fucked up spot you put him in between the two of you?" Sam counters as she takes a drag off of her Camel.

"Yeah... I think he thought she cheated on me... " Colson trails.

"Look, he had a really hard time with Justin and Luna's relationship too. We both did. Justin would disappear and we'd be looking for him with Luna. Sometimes we'd find him sometimes we wouldn't. Sometimes he'd call Pete, me or Izak on his own. Pete and Izak would hide him... It was fucked up." Sam shakes get head in dismay as her own heart breaks. "Justin would get clean, be good for a minute but then relapse all over again and she'd be a fucking mess. If anyone tried to paint their relationship as picture perfect to you than they didn't truly know them. Luna and Justin had a lot of problems." Sam admits to one of the first people ever; Colson seeming to have that effect on people.

"She doesn't really talk about him... I mean a little but I can tell it's restrained." He sighs.

"There's my Sammy Bam Bam!" Baze interrupts them with a grin as he opens the door.

"Make up with Pete." Sam pats Colson on the shoulder as she stands up to head inside with her boyfriend.

The Cocaine Cowboys eventually round their night out. Sam following Baze to his room as Rook, AJ, Benny, and Slim head to theirs. Mod being super grateful for the spare bedroom he slept in last night. Colson making his way up to a still sleeping Luna.

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Stripping his clothes, Colson climbs into bed with Luna. Her body is warm as he slides himself around her. Firmly running his hand up her outer thigh, along her hip and ribcage before crawling around her breast. Feeling every inch of her once more as he runs his hand back down her slender body.

Luna moans as her hips begin to shift back and forth out of need and instinct. Colson grows harder against her back as he slips his fingers along her pussy lips. Feeling her juices spill out as he lightly dips his finger inside of her.

"Mmm... Fuck, I've missed her taste." He mentally moans, not being a able to resist sticking his fingers in his mouth as his tongue dances around her unique flavor.

"I wanna fuck you." Colson husks deeply into her ear while he grabs her tit.

"Mhm." Luna murmurs hazily as she perks her ass into him.

Getting the Go, Colson seperates her delicate lips with his fingers. Taking his time, he slowly guides himself into Luna. Feeling her body tense as she moans and pushes her ass deeper into him. Tangling their legs in each other's, Luna reaches behind and grabs the back of Colson's neck to pull him closer to her. Kissing every inch of her that he can reach, he fucks her sternly while she bounces lazily off of his cock. With her face and closed eyes still resting softly in her pillow; she moans and fucks Colson contently in her sleep and drug induced state.

There's something about a SleepFuck that's incredibly satisfying to Luna. Her walls clutch Colson's dick in pleasure, making he thrusts harder. Releasing himself as he feels her cum all over him.

"FUCK." He breathes into her bare neck.

"Mmm... " Is Luna's only response, she's already almost back asleep.

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Pete shows up on The Brownstone's stoop with two coffees. Colson meeting him with four blunts. The two friends take a seat. Colson firing up the first blunt after Pete hands him his coffee.

"Yo... I'm sorry, Dawg." Colson starts as he exhales. "I put you in some shit... "

"Nah, Homie." Pete cuts him off as he accepts the blunt. "Luna's business is her own. No matter who it's with." Pete sighs. "I just worry about her, Man. And you too. I've seen you both go through some fucked up shit and I don't want to see it again, I guess." Pete half shrugs as he takes a pull.

"Look, Sam ACTUALLY talked to me last night so I get it a little more than I did before." Colson tells him as he accepts the blunt.

"It was just hard... " Pete shakes his head at the memories.

"I don't want this to fuck us up." Colson bares his soul to one of his bestfriends.

"Me neither." Pete agrees as he reaches for the second blunt and fires it up.

Both friends look at each other. There's an understanding between men that can happen without words. This is one of those times. With a simple nod, Pete and Colson are good. Going on to enjoy their coffee, each other and the NYC morning as they get high and bust it up like nothing ever happened.

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Luna's extra miserable when Colson wakes her up for their flight back to LA. The lack of sleep, too many drugs and her gunshot wound have her aching in every sense of the word. She doesn't shower. Just throws on sunglasses, cuttoffs and an oversized Hotel Diablo hoodie.

They make it to JFK just in time for their 11A flight. Everyone is dragging, not only Luna. Proving that cocaine is a Motherfucker. Once seated in first class, everyone knocks back out. Luna curling up against Colson as his face lays on her head and arm rests upon her bare leg.

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It's just before 8P by time they make it back to The LA House. Everyone is tired. No one is happy. All dropping their luggage in The Living Room before heading to their beds. They're so mentally jacked, no one's even thought to check The Charts, let alone eat at all day.

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Luna and Colson sleep clean until the next morning until her alarm goes off. Colson groans as she shifts away from him. Climbing out of the bed, she reaches high to stretch. Colson watching her out of one slitted eye.

"Why are you up?" He asks flatly.

"So you can truly see me." Luna answers before disappearing into the bathroom.

It takes a shit ton of coaxing and drugs to get Colson moving after Luna's shower. Complaining the whole time as she hands him water and joints. Once in the shower he starts to feel slightly better after he jerks off. He's FINALLY fully functional after his Adderall and coffee kicks in.

Not getting as much sleep as Luna and doing way more drugs, he's really edgy. She hands him a football before they walk out of the bedroom. He's so pissy they leave the house quietly without his trademark WE OUT.

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"Can I have the keys?" Luna asks, she's dressed in an overall romper, white shirt, long socks and one of her leathers as they walk towards the Rover in the early Saturday sun.

"Why?" Colson asks back as he tosses them to her in his own ripped jeans and black T.

"I need to drive and you need to listen." She answers before sliding into the driver's seat.

"You're talking to me now?" He counters with a slight attitude as he buckles his seatbelt.

"Do you think this is a fucking game?" Luna whips her head towards him.

"No." He answers solemnly as he sparks a joint.

"You don't seem to fucking get it at all." Luna shakes her head as she pulls out of the driveway.

"Look Loons, I'm sorry I fucked up with the Tommy and Justin thing. I shouldn't have said shit no matter how I was feeling." He exhales his apology as he passes her the joint and finally pops the Xanax she gave him.

"You still don't get it, Colson. How many times do I have to tell you.. It's not the secret you told. It's that you TOLD a secret. Period. You don't seem to realize that I'm dirtier than a fucking affair... Fuck." Luna let's out an exasperated sigh. "Let's be honest. In the short time you've known me; I've committed coercion, shot a federal agent, am in the process of setting up an underground abortion clinic... Oh! And I was blackmailed into issuing a public apology for fucking up one person out of what? A fucking dozen? And that's only been in the last 3MNTHS... Seriously, I am a fucking criminal." Colson stares at her as everything begins to register. "Fuck, I've got things going on that you don't even know about yet." She continues to worry as she hits the joint a few times while staring ahead. "And now, I'm terrified to fucking tell you about them."

"Like what?" Colson asks her with a concerned, yet amused SideEye as he takes the joint.

"Why should I tell you? Every criminal who's been caught is usually taken down because of their irrational lover." She looks over at him with a light smirk and hazy blue eyes for the first time during their car ride.

"You really gonna play me like that?" He scoffs at her before inhaling a huge hit.

"I don't know. You wanna say don't call Jax but are your stupid ass, jealous comments gonna get me popped one day?" She bites back as she fumbles for her cigarettes.

"Are you fucking serious?" He spits out as he starts to get angry with her. "What the fuck do you think I would do to you and what the fuck else are you doin' that's worse than what I already know? And where the FUCK are we going?" He demands as they continue to drive.

Luna's quiet for a long moment as she smokes her Newport. She's trying to keep herself calm and figure out exactly how to tell Colson about what things. Already having made her decision long before they got into the SUV to give up her biggest secret.

"Tell me, Luna." Colson asserts as he lights another joint.

"All in?" She asks him firmly as she looks over at him and holds his stare while he grabs her hand to reassure her. "I told you... I'm dirtier than you think. I own properties that clean money and stash shit for one of the biggest distributors on The East Coast." Luna admits in a hushed voice.

"It's for Tommy, isn't it?" Colson immediately snaps as his mind flashes back to his conversation with Benny.

"OH MY FUCKING GAWD!!" Luna can't help but scream. "You are so fucking hung up on other dudes that it's insane and probably what's gonna get me caught!" Luna stops. "How can you not see that I tell you more about myself WILLINGLY than any other human being on This Earth? That you know more about me than Justin ever did." Luna's lip trembles as tears escape from her eyes. "So, yeah... It started with Tommy but I have bigger associates now... " Luna shakes her head. "That's only a blip though. There is so much more at stake for me than that!" Luna slams her palms against the steering wheel in frustration as she begins to sob. "You have no fucking idea." She shakes her head again as her voice breaks.

"Then what is it, Luna?" Colson softens his tone with her.

Coming to a stop light, Luna turns her head and looks Colson dead in the eyes. Her hands are clutching the steering wheel so tightly that her knuckles are white. There's a look on her face he's never seen before. It's a mixture of sadness, pain and determination. Taking a shuddered sigh, Luna flicks her cigarette out the window. She finds herself begging The Universe that he won't betray her this time as she's about to tell only Colson her true intentions. Lighting her own joint, she inhales deeply and holds the hit in. Looking over at Colson, she studies him. He stares back, waiting for her words.

"I'm gonna kill Smurf." She states icily before turning away, releasing the brake and focusing on what's ahead. "Still wanna marry me now?" She asks, puffing on the joint without taking her eyes off of the road.

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Part 2 of 2

To be continued...

[dreaming-gamer]

DMC Week Day 2 & 3: Demon, Fight, Loss - Nero & V

I chose to sort of combine these two days, hope you enjoy the result!

Rating: Mature

Warning: Angst with a happy ending, canon-typical violence, mentions of earlier character death, mentions of blood.

“We… should retreat…” V sounded wrong, his deep voice out of breath. Griffon’s wings looked tired, bringing him closer to the ground for each slow flap. By V’s feet, Shadow lingered but Nero could see specks of her form falling off.

Nero’s muscles burned from the fight, cuts and bruises covering his upper body. The enemy was like none he had seen before. Humanoid in form, faster than the Angelos, stronger and with more technique… Despite having fought for a long while now, their inflicted damage on the demon didn’t seem to bother it, as it towered over them just like Urizen while it seemed to only regard them as flies it needed to swat away with its scythe. Armor cloaked its limbs, chest and back, with scratches from Nero’s sword and Shadow’s spinning wheel attacks, but for the most part, the armor had held. One of its arms, its thickness about the same as Nero’s entire body hung limply at its side, the one sustainable damage they had managed.

“Shakespeare’s right, it’s too much!” The avian shouted on top of his tiny lungs. “We need backup!”

What backup was there? Trish and Lady were away on their own mission. Nico was waiting for them to come back and Nero didn’t want her anywhere near this craziness. Dante and Vergil had left this realm to him and V to protect, if they couldn’t… then who would? The iron taste in his mouth grew worse for every breath, he barely had enough strength to keep Red Rose revved up. Blood on his hands made the grip slippery, the cut above his eye was finally bleeding less so his vision wasn’t as obscured.

Nero spat, he could kill for a glass of water to rid himself of the taste… His stomach felt bruised after a direct hit earlier. He gripped his sword more tightly. V’s words were having the opposite effect, igniting that spark of fighting within him again.

“If you wanna bail V, go ahead.” Nero gathered all the snarkiness he had left into his grin and revved his sword. “I’m bagging this bitch.”

“News flash, hotshot! We’re in deep shit?!” Griffon squawked, flapping maniacally to get in front of Nero. “We need a plan!”

Cool metal touched his shoulder, in an attempt to make him turn.

“We need to regroup and mend our wounds. Right now… that’s the best we can do.” The handle of the cane was trembling. The young devil hunter set his jaw. V looked pale, his limp prominent, his hunched over form screaming of fatigue, several cuts and bruises blooming on his skin, though most of them had stopped bleeding. With his slowed movements, any further fighting for him, or either of them was too dangerous. But so was leaving this demon alone… its scythe had already torn through so much of the evacuated buildings, filling the air with smoke from the fires. If this continued to the populated areas… No, there was still something for them to try. Something he could do.

“I haven’t tried this yet.” Nero shook off V’s cane. “Just stay back.” It would actually be a first, outside of that one battle. Nero had never really found the trigger again, but now, he felt an odd certainty that he’d be able to.

I need power…! The thought rushed through his mind, with that searing heat of transformation. Every wound on his body tickled as if ants were suddenly crawling in them as they stitched together and sped up the mending process. A rush of adrenaline, the wings sprouting out of his back in all their iridescent glory, ready to pummel any and all demons into the ground.

“Nero…!” V’s voice behind him held bewilderment, perhaps insistence that they should in fact retreat but Nero didn’t turn to check.

This form had given him power to stop a family feud, to protect the ones he cared about. It would have to be enough to do so again.

One look at the demon in front of him and Nero felt rage well up. Exploding in his gut like a supernova, his yellow eyes burning as he threw himself back into the fight.

The air reeked of blood. His, V’s, but there was also the foul stench of demon blood, his Devil Trigger form enhancing his senses in a way he was still not used to. One of their earlier attacks had scraped through its defenses, hitting its thick arm and making it hang limp. That was where he’d strike again.

An earsplitting roar. Nero’s clawed hands flew to his ears. His wings fluttered, gathered wind. Avoided the scythe. He closed in, just a meter from his target. One wing transformed into the fist, poised to strike.

Something moved in his peripheral vision. Danger incoming, his body screamed. His wings flapped, the demon’s kick swooping past him, just barely missing.

A sudden crackle of thunder behind him. Nero clenched his jaw, gripped his sword tighter. His wing about to snatch the new threat from the air, when he somehow realized that no, that was an ally. A noisy one, shouting “Fry!” at the top of its small lungs, but an ally. A strike of lightning swept past him, hit the demon straight in its three glowing eyes. Its mouth opens for a screech, the tentacles around its jaw moving, showing the fearsome row of teeth.

Red Queen blazed through the flesh, searing it off, the thick limb falling to the ground with a thud. The demon roared, stepped back. Nero didn’t revel in the victory, he launched himself for a new attack. Blood splattered over his wings, his form as he aimed for the head, sword poised to strike…

Only to be caught by the other fist that had let go of the scythe, all five fingers catching hold of him and squeezing. Nero couldn’t scream, air was being knocked out of him, how the hell did this thing still have so much power?!

He thrashed, struggled against the tightening grip.

Let go! Opening his mouth wide, he bit into the thumb of his enemy. Blood with the taste and smell of decay hit his senses, hard enough to make him feel like puking but the grip remained, strong and attempting to crush him.

Nero felt his thoughts blanking out, instincts taking over. Teeth letting go, his mouth tasting of blood. Every fiber of his being burned to get free of the fingers trapping him. His pulse throbbing fast, drowning out all sound in his ears. Pain engulfing his entire frame. His wings, though trapped, tried to bend up an opening for him.

When there suddenly was a swirl of black blades cutting through the air, crackling with lightning and hitting the demon’s wrist, managing to tear through the armor plate coating the demon’s body. A sickening splat as the blood sprayed over the ground.

The grip loosened and Nero fell, pain pounding in every nerve. He hit the ground with a thud, breathless, spitting up blood and aching, feeling most of his transformation come undone as concentration and rage was slipping.

He knew this feeling, the twisting of a snake in his stomach, trying to eat its way to his chest and heart. Having someone else having to step up and fight for him, like Dante had against the demon ass Urizen. Even now, he heard the sound of fighting. Crackles of lightning, Shadow’s demonic spikes trying to pierce through. The sick sound of metal meeting flesh. Nero struggled to raise his head, spotting his comrade still locked in combat. Did he see… blood?

Should he have listened to V? Had he doomed them both? Dread spread inside, like a snake finding new vulnerable spots within him to bite into. The demon was slower now, but so were V’s familiars from their master’s weakened state.

With a yell, Griffon was hit by a fist head-on, his form falling apart during its descent, entering his stalemated form of swirling particles surrounding the blue orb.

“God-dammit!” Arms trembling under him, Nero struggled to get up, stand! Transform! Do something!

“Nero, run!” He wasn’t sure if the words were just in his head or being shouted at him. He just knew he had heard them before but he wasn’t going to face another situation like that. Not again!

Once, he lost Credo when he tried to save him. Years later, he believed he had lost Dante the same way.

Nero’s eyes found V, whose hair shifted to a glistening white just as the earth shook from the arrival of his third familiar. His triumph card, as well as last resort. V’s legs barely holding him as he grabbed onto the golem of pure destruction. Despite having spoken of retreat, V remained because of Nero’s choice.

Determination burned anew in Nero’s gut. He was not losing anyone else.

Wings and horns materialized again, his heightened senses returning. Red Queen didn’t feel slippery in his grip anymore, the weight familiar, almost light despite his aching muscles. The demon was focusing on Nightmare, grabbing its scythe and meeting the golem’s laser head-on, the light blinding to look at. Sparks flew through the air, the scythe’s metal taking on a red, hot glow.

His iridescent wings cracking their knuckles for round whichever this was, Nero charged again, aiming straight for the head. A shock of lightning made the demon’s head turn and that’s when he saw it, a soft spot, basically beckoning for him to tear it apart and end it all. Fueled by the sense of protection, he soared, aimed…

It hit, blood spraying over his arms, the sword piercing directly into the thin crevice between armor plates. But the demon was still moving, trying to shake him off. Red Queen was lodged in the wound, but not far enough.

“Nero, move!” V’s words left no room for argument. Nero let go, feeling claws suddenly yank onto his jacket and pull him away, fast. Griffon flapped frantically as Nightmare’s fist, rammed into the demon’s weak spot. Red Queen shot in far, V holding on to the inky back of his familiar with all strength he could muster while the demon wailed, tried to get away. Blood continued to spray, the demon’s motions turning twitchy, its roar sounding more like a gurgle for each second.

When it fell silent, Nero almost thought he had gone deaf. Everything was so suddenly quiet, the demon falling on its side, jaw and tentacles slack, all three eyes rolled up into its skull. Dim with no glow in sight before the creature started to dissolve.

But the creature was not the only thing that fell.

Nightmare withered away, disappearing in specks of black goo, some of them sticking to V’s hair and with Griffon currently holding on to Nero, V fell, landing heavily on his knees and collapsing in a heap with a grunt of pain, blood oozing onto the ground.

Nero’s heart felt like it would stop.

“V!” He wasn’t sure if it was his voice, Griffon’s or both of them overlapping in a chorus that made the world suddenly kick-start itself again. Ignoring that he was still meters above ground, Nero tore himself free, his wings, horns and claws fading as his transformation came undone. Feet hitting the ground so hard they felt numb for a second, he forced them into a run, Griffon soaring past him overhead.

Shadow was already by V’s side, licking his hand. The human summoner had his eyes closed, breathing as if he had run a marathon in sandals. V looked like a toy whose batteries had run out, having just fallen onto his side and not moved.

“V! Hold on, I’m gonna…” Nero carefully put his hands on the other man’s shoulders, turning him over, the quarter-demon’s vision narrowing into a tunnel, slightly blurry, looking for wounds and something to do about them. His face and hands felt so hot, the pain suddenly forgotten from the adrenaline burning through his system.

V’s left arm hung limp, blood trickling from a gash a bit above his elbow. Most of the smaller cuts on his arms seemed to have stopped bleeding, a rather nasty blue bruise peeking out under the side of his leather vest.

“I got you V.” Worry accelerated his world, it felt like the seconds passed too fast. He couldn’t think, only act. V was losing blood fast, he looked like a sheet, especially with the now black hair back in place, sticking to his forehead. Nero ripped off a bit of his own red t-shirt, wrapped the cloth around V’s upper arm and pulled hard to create pressure. V winced, a pained sound escaping through gritted teeth. “Yeah, I know it hurts, but hold on, alright?” Nero let his voice turn softer, steadier than he felt. His eyes wandered, checking for anything else needing tending to, was there anymore blood, signs that V was–

“Nero…” The name dragged out as V sounded so out of breath. “I’ll be fine. I’m merely… spent.”

Hearing V trying to comfort him, when he was the one hurt because of Nero’s stupid decision just made the quarter-demon want to puke.

“Once we get you fixed up, you’ll be fine. Just hold on, I’ll get us back.” Nero moved to get V off the cold ground, that couldn’t be good for him, V got chilled so easily anyway.

“Nero…” V’s prompted but Nero didn’t get why, he was just doing his best to get them out of this fucking mess he’d created. He didn’t look at V’s face, kept his gaze from the summoner’s neck and down.

“I’ll get us back, I’ll fix this.” He cut V off, gripped V’s less damaged wrist firmly to help him get to his feet. For a second, V seemed unsteady but steadied himself.

“Nero.” V’s tone was insistent once he stood, still sounding slightly out of breath, but much more determined. Somehow, it just grated on his nerves.

“WHAT?!” The word tore out of Nero, raw, uninvited and harsh. He snapped his head to look at V, shocked when he found V’s collected expression, his green eyes to look out of focus.

“Talk to me.” V demanded, turning his hand in Nero’s grip, cold fingers, weren’t they too cold, brushing against Nero��s underarm.

Just then, Nero realized he was crying. Wet, fast droplets obscuring his vision and he couldn’t make stop. Suddenly, it was as if the snake had wrapped itself around his throat, sealing off any words he wished to use. He tried to speak, to give him V an explanation but it was like a dam inside him had ruptured, let out the tidal wave that had built up against it. This was wrong, nothing he had ever experienced before. But he couldn’t stop, had no clue as to how to do so. His shoulders were shaking, his breaths trembling. All he felt capable of doing was hold on to V’s wrist and his comrade in arms let him.

“I thought I had too little strength, again. I thought I messed up!” He rambled. “When you fell, and there was blood, you looked like–” Nero clammed up, unsure of how to continue.

Credo. The man who’d been like his brother looked nothing alike the pale, black-haired man in front of him now. And yet the dread of losing someone close to him again had hit him like a truck. Especially when the continuation of the fight had been his idea.

“Like someone you lost.” V filled in the blank. Nero nodded, trying to wipe his damn eyes. That wasn’t even all of it, he had almost lost V once but he shut those words down.

“You… know about him?”

“Kyrie has told me stories.” V said, voice gentle as he slowly pulled his arm free, placing his hand on Nero’s arm, the touch cold but light and well-meaning. “…it’s alright to cry.”

“…you sound like Nico.” Nero couldn’t help but point out, but it was dragging the start of a grin out of him, despite all the emotions. A sniff escaped him, the snake feeling like it was letting up. Slithering away for another day. His heart was still being squeezed, but it slowly felt lighter, purged from the tears.

“Perhaps you should listen to her, she is a genius, after all.” V said, a faint smirk forming on his lips.

“Don’t say that to her face!” Their friend she might be, but she didn’t need a more inflated ego, in Nero’s opinion. It made his wallet cry enough as it was.

V chuckled.

“Perhaps we should return to her, we did fight for quite a while.” He pointed out, slowly reaching down for his cane when Shadow brushed against him and took it in her mouth but Nero didn’t miss the tense reaction of his comrade’s muscles. Before V managed to collect the cane, Nero offered him his shoulder. V accepted, his less wounded arm around Nero’s shoulders and Nero put an arm around V’s waist to steady him, because the first step almost made him stumble.

“You alright there?” Worry gnawed at Nero’s insides again, V patted his shoulder.

“Yes, I will be. Believe it or not, I have been through worse.” Nero felt it as a punch in the gut, realizing that must be true. V looked fine now, but there had been those sickening cracks plaguing his skin before, it was not easily forgotten.

“Yeah well… I’m glad you’re here V.” Nero swallowed, his voice sincere. The tears finally felt dried up, for now as they slowly made their way towards the RV. Shadow walked away to get Nero’s sword. “Next time, maybe I’ll listen when you say retreat.” He said in an attempt to lighten the situation.

“Oh, I doubt you will… The first time I had to force you.” V teased, tempting Nero to give him a playful shove but he refrained.

They were both hurt, bruised and exhausted but alive. And that was the way Nero wanted it to continue, working together with friends while devil hunting sure made it feel more fulfilling. Scarier at times, but still more positive than not.

As for V, he blinked away the damp feeling in his eyes, not following his own advice. Knowing he had support, a shoulder to hold on to spread such a warmth in his heart he didn’t feel sure any more words would come to him if prompted. Each step was heavy while Nero supported him towards the RV, Nico and proper treatment. Though most of his body ached, running on low on energy, the cut on his arm throbbing painfully, it all felt mild compared to the pain he had endured in the past. And above all, his heart felt relief it had not known before.

[meirilorii]

Wintery Kiss

A Detective Conan and Magic Kaito (DCxMK) fanfic

Summary:

“How did you even find me here Shin-chan?”

A fond chuckle. “Of course I’d find you. I’ve been chasing you for years now that you won’t be able to hide from me anymore, KID-san.”

Kaito pouted, curious, but smiling all the same. “That doesn’t answer my question the slightest bit oh great detective.”

Kaishin/shinkai

Cross posted from Ao3 under MeiriLorii

It was a dark, cold night.

The wind blew past in low freezing degrees as everything around him constantly turned colder, moving his clothes and mussing up his already tousled hair as a few more unruly cowlicks were swept up in several different directions. Exhaling a puff of warm condensing air, the young man sitting desolately by the only occupied bench tugged his light thin clothes —certainly not ones for this kind of weather— firmly around his body in a weak attempt to conserve body heat, contemplating.

It was pretty useless, he knew, as he could barely feel the frigid air. Although.. should he be worried..? Some panicky part of his brain had been whispering that the numbness should be an alarming forewarning that his body was not getting the right temperature it needed. Warmth. But he could barely remember the feeling as he stared at the hand he had been unconsciously rubbing the entire time he had been sitting there. Waiting.

Oh. Right. He had been waiting for someone to make an appearance, right? But for the life of him he couldn’t remember who he’s been waiting for this entire time. Who’d be so important to warrant his patience to wait out in the open with the weather this unstable? Was he even waiting for somehow who will make it or would this be in vain?

Actually, he couldn’t really remember much from the time he had woken up from that brightly lit room. Just that he had to come to this place, something familiar, whatever it might cost him because apparently some part of him feels that this place was important; that it held a remarkably meaningful memory that refused to be recovered from deep within the pit of scrambled mess that was his brain.

This had to some kind of weird dream. He knew from some part deep inside him that people don’t just forget everything in one day. They don’t just wake up from an unknown place he subconsciously knew as a hospital room only to go someplace they thought they should be but apparently couldn’t seem to figure out the reason behind as to why.

He couldn’t even remember his name.. Why his left hand had been covered in bandages —something that had become a makeshift glove— and the faint desperate feeling still thrumming through his adrenaline pumped veins when he had run away from that room.

The young man had to be missing something important, and the thought itself made his head hurt that he had stopped trying to think of it too much in hopes that the pounding headache would just stop.

Somewhere far across the male, the large clocktower chimed its musical bell, the large hand moving to point directly upward towards the sky as it rang its call before midnight.

One more hour..

Just then, sometime after, something soft dropped down bellow his left eye to turn into freezing liquid, moving down his cheek before the wind started to pick up again from its earlier lazy breeze.

Snow. His mind supplied once more as he held his bare and almost frozen hand outward to catch more of the falling white flakes as they started to descent down from the puffy greyish-white clouds overhead.

He could barely recall —a memory?— being drenched as the cold ball of ice soaked through his coat and clothes, someone throwing him a handful in retaliation to start a playful snowball fight. Either that or they’d form something out of the pile that had accumulated that day. (Who’s idea it was or if those were even real or a figment of his imagination, he’s not sure anymore.) Of warm fireplaces, shared blankets and cups of hot beverages. Lazy and comfortable silences that droned on as the nearby grandfather clock slowly ticked away the seconds to lull him into a light sleep..

It was somehow disconcerting how he was starting to long for something he couldn’t even fully remember, but nonethess, he surmised that the winter chill couldn’t be much good for his sore and bandaged up self. (He’s only clad in a pair of what should be his jeans and a light long sleeved shirt. Not exactly heavy and heat conserving.)

But.. He was starting to feel sleepy. He’s tired and he just wanted to take small nap..

Unable to stop his lids from dropping, he fell into a light daze like slumber..

“Hey, Kaito, what do you want to do for Christmas?”

The innocent question snapped said magician out of the mathematical equation he had, for once, been studying about for exams. Normally, Kaito would just wave his hand and skim through his text books with an uncaring air. He usually passed with flying colors anyway even with his obvious inattentiveness during lessons but for now, he deemed a few brush ups and advance topics would do him fairly well especially with his course of action for next week.

Which he hadn’t informed Shinichi as of yet.

And the detective had been the one to bring up about the incoming holidays.. Which was a bit unusual ever since he had known Kudou Shinichi and had started to drop by frequently by the mansion after they had sorted out their own individual mess. Out of the five years that he had known him, this was a first for Christmas, —this year being the one he had managed to finally have the courage to ask Shinichi if he could room with him because despite one of the guest rooms practically being his by now, he still wants to make sure he’s welcomed to stay for far longer than a few days. It was just too spacious and quiet by himself and he just figured that with both of them living by themselves, it wouldn’t be so bad.

Well, it had always been Kaito forcing him out of work for a much deserved break so..

Ah. Shit.

“Eh.. Christmas?” Chuckling sheepishly, Kaito scratched the back of his head lightly, tapping one end of his mechanical pencil by the corner of his lips as he sent his roommate a crooked grin.

Shinichi in return just blinked at him, one raised eyebrow urging him to go on and elaborate as he went back to typing away in his own laptop. Kaito willed himself not to read in too much on the small shift of his body language, telling himself that it was most definitely not disappointment that had shined through the other’s azure eyes for the briefest of seconds before it went back to the usual indifferent stare.

Thief or no thief, he still thinks that the detective was very much annoying whenever he does that. Closing him off as if he couldn’t read him. And well, maybe the smallest bit challenging and attractive. But that’s from a tiny part of his brain that he had tucked way back since it always sprouted nonsense about adorable snappy detectives..

Shaking his head to rid himself of such distracting thoughts, the magician opened his mouth for a response, feeling much like a bastard who’s just making excuses and he cringed inwardly even as his face outwardly showed his deepest sincerity.

“It was just yesterday and I would have told you about it right away but then you’ve got a case until late in the evening.. ” Shrugging lightly, he leaned his head over the heel of his right hand, left hand absently flipping his pen between his fingers and nervousness showing through as the pace picked up with the detective’s show of near callousness.

“Anyways, Kaa-san called and informed me about having scheduled a magic show over New York. Something about a Christmas reunion between her and Oyaji’s common friends that I just have to make a small show for.” Trailing off, he counted off a few seconds before adding. “I was scheduled to go next week and will probably be gone for the duration of about two weeks until after Christmas and well.. I was wondering if somehow you’d be able to come too since we’re given an early break..”

Kaito already knew the answer, but he mentally crossed his fingers anyway.

The continuous clicking and clacking of keys stopped momentarily as Shinichi leaned back on his armchair after a beat of tense silence from Kaito. He looked worn out around the edges and the magician made a mental note to himself that he’d have to pester the detective this weekend just to have the other stop wasting away his day offs solving through a bunch of case files and either going or stumbling over crime scenes.

Apparently, Kaito was Shinichi’s living, walking, and working omamori that cancels out the detective’s corpse magnet abilities. Kaito would always remind him so whenever he’d drag him out for an impromptu vacation and Shinichi would just sigh every time and submit to his whims with little to no struggle. Though the magician secretly likes to think that that’s because his companion might enjoy those out of the blue outings with him.

And it wasn’t like he has anything to lose when they both have everything to gain out of it anyways.

Shinichi’s a detective, but as much as he loves his work and would do anything for justice, Kaito knew that sometimes things just felt too dark that sleep couldn’t even save him from nightmares, the magician dragging him out whenever he felt like the detective needs an out for a while. He empathized with that fairly well. “That sounds great Kaito.” Shinichi’s grin looked genuine although it doesn’t seem to reach his eyes. Kaito knew that look far too much —he’s pretty used to that by now, so why did he feel as if he had just been punched in the gut?— that he had anticipated the next words even before the other opened his mouth to continue, “Your mother must be really proud of you and I’m happy that you can finally start your career from here but.. ”

Kaito cut him off when Shinichi’s words skirted around the conversation, his mind, for once, was unable to come up with the correct set of sentences.

Lips twitching upward into a slight smile —the magician couldn’t do more than that else it would be too fake. “ Yeah. Kaa-san won’t stop telling me that over the phone, so kind of guessed she was.” His normally cheery tone was a tad more neutral than usual, but Shinichi, who he was sure to have caught the slight change, didn’t say anything. Kaito sensed the guilt however, the tenseness over the other’s shoulders, and he suddenly felt undeniably warm as his smile softened into a decidedly indulgent grin.

“But hey, after you’re done with that case with Takagi-keiji, we could always celebrate the new years together, right?” If his words had come out more hopeful, neither decided to comment about it.

The detective should have expected that part really, what with the moonlighting thief’s habit of sending his doves after him after a certain accident —not so much of an accident as it was a cleverly planned one. Though.. That meant Kaito knew and had still tried to ask him if he would be able to make it. Isn’t it just sad that this almost felt like he’s abandoning the other?

He should be feeling annoyed with all the stalking, but he only felt fond exasperation, the latter one winning out over his features as he crossed his arms with a soft sigh.

“Why do I even bother?” Shaking his head, Shinichi could feel a tug on his lips and he didn’t even bother to hide his amusement as he faced the magician fully from his position. “Just try not to blow the house up with all the fireworks.”

And Kaito’s laugh, relieved and content, rang over the halls of the Kudou residence, filling the previously empty house with its warmth.

“-to! ”

He could faintly hear someone shouting something, the words and meaning lost to him as he was still feeling groggy from the impromptu nap.

“Oi! Kai-”

Someone was shaking him now, and even though he felt quite annoyed with the treatment to his limp body, he couldn’t bother to bring himself to move just yet. His eyes felt as if it was bolted close and his arms and legs heavy with lead.

“—you said…”

What were they saying? He couldn’t really think much of anything else at the moment, head feeling as if stuffed with cotton. That was before his head throbbed with a vengeance, more vicious and twice the earlier pain, forcing him to move much closer to that comforting wamth. A soft near inaudible whimper left his dry throat when the movement aggravated what should be numb skin and flesh, bandages slowly being stained red.

“You idiot!”

As the fog over his senses slowly lifted, Kaito could feel his source of warmth shake but he was still unable to discern the reason as to why with his brain still trying to reboot.

“Why’d you..” A choked whisper as the speaker tried to regain composure. “Gods Kaito.. We’ve been searching for you for hours and you’re nowhere to be found. I thought.. I thought he got you this time for good and..”

..What?

Oh. Was that Shinichi? It sure sounds like it. He must be suffering from a pretty bad concussion if he’s ever forgotten his favourite critic for even just a second. But that also doesn’t sound quite about right. Why would Shinichi be acting like this and be reduce to such a mess?

“-nichi?” His voice was horribly hoarse that Kaito gave a brief thought about drinking something to patch the soreness of his throat.

The detective immediately froze before he slowly leaned his head back from the embrace he’s wrapped the magician with, turning wide blue eyes at the groaning bundle in his arms and clashing with hazy and clearly pained and disoriented indigo.

Unable to word anything out the first few seconds with waves of relief spreading through Shinichi’s stiff form, he sagged back down around the other, arms holding him in a carefully tight hold to avoid aggravating his wounds any more that they already are.

A comforting silence settled between them, Kaito returning the hug as much as he could without hurting himself by moving too much. Both of them just basking in each other’s presence, not wanting to break the moment just yet.

It was Shinichi who did.

“I’m sorry.” His memories are still a jumbled mess but Kaito supposed that he should have seen this one coming from Shinichi. The amount guilt from the words alone does not sit well with him. “If only I had picked you up at the airport in time then..”

No. It wasn’t his fault, really. “I don’t blame you Shinichi. The case was important and—”

“You don’t understand Kaito!” Cutting him off, the other male raked a frustrated hand through his otherwise neatly combed hair, which Kaito only now realized looked much like his own nest of messy strands from the abuse it must have gone through this whole time. “The guy we’ve been after, the serial killings all pointed towards the same thing and.. and after we finally traced the next victim..” Another choked sound escaped him and the magician suddenly had a horrible feeling where this was leading to.

He decided to shut the detective up before he could start getting all logical on him. He likes that part of Shinichi, —he’d even admit to having admired him because of it, that strong sense of justice— he really does. But sometimes, when it comes to times like this, letting him go on gives him more reason to blame himself for something and thus pulling him deeper into self-reproach.

“Shinichi.” He started, breathing through his mouth and noticing his companion shiver lightly in his arms. “It’s not your fault. I can’t remember much but I think I saw you before I black out. You were able to stop him before he was able to really get me right?”

“Yes, but—”

“The plane landed earlier than planned considering the anticipated heavy snow. Not your fault I was planning on surprising you at the precinct.” Kaito waited for more rebuttals from the detective and continued on when nothing came. “You came to stop him. That’s all that matters to me.”

Shinichi shook his head, a shaky breath slipping past chapped lips. “I could have lost you. I.. He was able to escape as I was checking you for serious injuries. I thought he got you for real when you disappeared from your room.” It ended with a soft whisper, traces of fear still evident.

He snuggled closer towards his roommate, content, more than willing to provide physical reassurance. “I’m fine. I’m here. I could only imagine that you caught him this time with a painful hit by that soccer ball of death of yours.” A simple statement that spoke volumes of how much faith he had on the other.

“Yes.” It seems that Shinichi understood perfectly well, the implications not lost to him with how he tightened his hold around the weakened magician. “Yes I did..”

The silence stretched on as the tension slowly left the detective.

“How did you even find me here Shin-chan?”

A fond chuckle as Shinichi propped his head over Kaito’s, rubbing his back soothingly, willingly sharing body heat. “Of course I’d find you. I’ve been chasing you for years now that you won’t be able to hide from me anymore, KID-san.”

Kaito pouted, curious, but smiling all the same. “That doesn’t answer my question the slightest bit oh great detective.”

Faint snicker. “To be honest? I’ve sort of had a feeling that I’d find you here. You’ve always been the sentimental type and this was the place we’ve first met so I just went with my instinct.”

“Really?” The magician let out an amused snort, knowing there was more to it that the detective isn’t telling but willing to let it go with how tired he was.

Shinichi lightly laughed, shaking his head. “Kaito?”

“Mmh?”

“Please just.. don’t do that again.”

Smiling from his position on the detective’s lap, Kaito hummed, not wanting to risk nodding his head as he shifted just the tiniest bit closer, enjoying the scent of pine and mint that was solely Shinichi. “Okay.”

“..and Kaito?”

He was starting to get sleepy again, only this time he felt safe and warm, being wrapped securely with Shinichi watching over him. He certainly could get used to this. “Yes?”

“Let’s get you back home.”

“Yeah.” Grin stretching wider, and with all the warmth he could muster, Kaito glanced up towards Shinichi as he was carefully lifted up into his arms. The first time the other had admitted it to be just that after the past year of Kaito moving in with him. “Home.”

And as the clocktower strike midnight, Shinichi gave the now slumbering magician a feather light kiss on his forehead, silently promising to himself to always treasure something so precious.

[oosteven-universe]

The Unsound #1

The Unsound #1 Boom! Studios 2017 Written by Cullen Bunn Illustrated by Jack T. Cole Lettered by Jim Campbell    Ashli’s first day as a nurse at Wiermont Psychiatric Hospital turns into a nightmare as a bloody riot sends her fleeing into the bowels of the hospital. Her descent takes her to a hellish world populated by lunatics and monsters, cloaked in a secret history of black magic and heinous scientific experiments.    Uhm wow alright.  If you’ve ever seen and enjoyed horror movies that rely upon the storytelling that messes with your mind instead of using the blood and guts then you’ll appreciate this greatly.  The setting that Jack puts Ashli in, by that I mean the physical representation, really allows for us have those psychological moments that make you unsettled so that the story itself can seep inside you and fester the whole concept.    One of my earliest memories of being scared was being at my aunt and uncles and my cousins left the tv on, it was a little black an white number, with something about a monkey’s paw that would kill people.  That was the beginning of my love of horror and Cullen seems to understand that psychological horror is far more potent than the slasher kind.  As we go from Ashli’s apartment building to her job we see her trek through the city that has all these beautiful elements that taken are taken for granted and yet each one can be a source of unimaginable terror under the right circumstances.    Jack’s interiors here are stunning to see.  It’s easy to see Jack’s an illustrator one who branches out to the comics medium.  His style, attention to detail and his ability to utilise page layouts and bring angles, perspective and backgrounds to create modern old fashioned world full of symbolism.  You really have to pay attention to what he puts on the page here because just as in real life there’s so much to see.      The characterisation here is phenomenal and as we see Ashli start her first shift at the new job as a nurse we see just how naive and eager she is.  Her innocence is refreshing compared to the cynicism of Nurse Jeffers, or Ratchet if you’d prefer as her experience has left her more than just jaded.  Still between her the brief history of the place, her tour and the very skimpy introductions to the patients and staff Cullen weaves one hell of starter tale.    There’s this wonderful, mood, tone and feel to what’s happening here.  We’re left with what the heck is this place, what’s the full history and how did someone get the authority to reopen it.  The questions may or may not have answers we don’t know yet all we know is that this issue sets up one of the most promising to stories to come along, it’s like crossing Gothika with The House on Haunted Hill.  If that doesn’t set your heart racing thinking about it then this isn’t gonna be for you.    This combines stellar writing, plot development with beautiful interiors that will haunt you.