#IT WILL BE TOO LATE BY THE TIME WE LEARN WHAT THESE CRYPTIC SYMBOLS MEAN!!!!!!!!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chaozsilhouette · 3 years ago

Text

A Father’s Love

Another piece for @winterpower98's Swap Au.

I don’t really have a time frame for this scene, but with all the horror MK has had to endure in this AU I couldn’t help myself. I just needed a bit of fluff to break up my writing. Plus, I am all for Tang showing just how much he loves MK and being a protective father figure.

The poor boy needs a break, but we all know it won’t last.

_____________________________

“Well now, aren’t you a stubborn human.” Sun Wukong mused as he took in the one who dared to separate him from his creation.

The ground was split in a dozen directions. Craters dotted the landscape. The scent of volatile magic soaked the air. Yet, in the center of all this was a small circle of undisturbed land where his boy and the human stood unharmed.

The human didn’t look particularly impressive. If he had to guess, somewhere in his early to late thirties. He was obviously healthy but still suffered from the weaknesses all humans share. No, what truly caught his attention was the strangest sensation he knew this human. Almost as if the golden fillet was readying itself by his mere presence.

The human’s talent in magic was nothing to scoff at. Admittedly, it was nothing he couldn’t brush off, but seeing a human wielding so much raw power was supposed to be nearly impossible in this modern age. However, defying the odds here one stood before him trying to keep him from one of his treasures.

He was not alone in his curiosity. The Monkey King watched as MK stared at the bespeckled man in utter surprise.

“Since when could you do that?!” The newly revealed monkie demon all but screeched.

“Not too long.” The scholar cryptically stated.

His annoyance at the lack of an answer freed Mk of his fear. Just enough to swallow his need to be supported during this horrible moment and say what needed to be said. “You’ve got to run! Forget about me and get the others to safety!”

“I’d listen to my son if I were you, human.” The tyrant stated with a cocky smirk. “Since he’s started to learn his lesson about where he belongs I can be generous. You can take all your friends back home to rest up and we can continue another day.”

With a trembling hand, MK desperately gripped Tang’s pant leg. Praying that his love would be translated behind his pathetic display. “Please. I can’t see you get hurt because of me.” They were the kindest people he ever had the pleasure of knowing. He couldn’t bear knowing they got hurt trying to save him. The only reason they were in this crisis was because of him. If he hadn’t been so weak...

If he didn’t allow himself to be used, Wukong would still be trapped.

“Mk, you know I can’t leave anyone behind to suffer this tyrant’s hospitality.” The word was hissed out with more venom than a viper pit. “Especially not after learning of Macaque’s past.” Tang adjusted his stance so his side now supported the youth. His fingers twitched randomly, his eyes remained locked onto the armored demon. “Besides, we both know Mei would gut the two of us if we even think of considering it.”

It made no sense. They were in the presence of a being that filled the nightmares of all, from the lowliest human to celestial kings, yet young simian couldn’t help but smile. “Good point.” Compared to the Monkey Tyrant the young dragon was an insect, but she had earned the fear that accompanied her ire.

“Such a touching display. But do you really think you will be able to give him what he needs? That others will accept who he really is? You can say you love him until the sun blows up, but it will never change the fact he is me.” The Monkey King’s smile showed nothing but cruel amusement, but his tail betrayed his fraying patience.

“Do you take me for a fool? It doesn’t matter what he looks like, where he came from, or how he started out. He is my Son! And I refuse to let anyone abuse his kind heart ever again!”

Two hands slammed into the ground with unnatural force. Mystic runes and circles filled the air as the battlefield was bathed in a gentle yellow light. Golden ropes wrapped around the Tyrant as the earth formed a five-sided fortress around him. Symbols were burned into each side, somehow not concealing the burning rage from Sun Wukong’s enraged expression.

With that done, Tang grabbed MK’s hand and ran knowing full well both their lives depended on it. “Come on! That won’t distract him for long.”

Or at all. They hadn’t cleared five meters before they started to rocks crumble and mystic bindings viciously snap.

Somehow the two of them were able to reunite with Macaque and Mei in order to get some much-needed distance without any major obstacles. It was silently agreed that the Moneky Tyrant had let them leave. Why? They didn’t want to think about it. All they could do was patch themselves up and think of a new plan.

_____________________________

Pigsy treated them all to a delicious meal, after yelling at the four of them for tangling with the Monkey King. About how they could have gotten killed and berating them for thinking about leaving them behind. Tang was certain Pigsy’s volume was the only reason Macaque looked uncomfortable.

That night they all stayed with Sandy. It was agreed that they should stick together until the heat dies down. Mei stepped out to call her parents to warn them about ... everything. While Macaque had essentially taken over as her father figure it didn’t mean her birth parents were no longer a target. Macaque aided Sandy in setting up the spare rooms. Piggy was just cleaning up dinner and preparing a few things for breakfast.

Leaving Tang to begin creating wards to hang around the boat and MK to uncomfortably sit as he stared at the scholar.

“Why did you do that?”

Tang pushed up his glasses, looking more grave than the teen ever recalled seeing.

“I was preparing that spell the moment I opened my mouth. I figured after that outburst it was only a matter of time before he got bored playing nice and when for the kill. Despite what movies would make you believe, talking is not a free action.” His precious disciples learned that lesson the hard way.

“No. I mean...when you said all that stuff, did you really mean it? You view me as a son?” MK could barely get the last word out. It felt like all of this was just a wonderful dream and when he awoke he’d be back on Flower Fruit Mountain.

Tang set down his brush to fully face the demon. “Of course, I mean it. I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t.” He poured his entire soul into that truth, a fact he was proud to scream to the heavens.

“Even when I look like this?” Sharing the same face of the demon who caused so much pain and suffering. He could barely stand it, but the thought of continuing to live in his human form just felt even more unbearable. He was tired of lies. Tired of being used.

“So you look like a demon monkey, big deal." Tang waved off the concern, regaining his trademark confident sass. "Last I checked, we are close with several demons one of which is a rather famous monkey. At your core, you are still the same MK we grew to know and care about. You may have started out as Wukong’s clone, but you have come a long way since then.”

Seeing that the boy was still unconvinced, Tang wrapped his arms around the child’s shoulders and brought him in for a hug. “You will always have a place with me, with any of us. You are loved and appreciated, Xiǎotiān. Never forget that.” Circles were slowly traced on his back as shaky breathing gradually evened out.

Xiǎotiān nuzzled his father’s neck. Taking in the scent of aged paper, ink, and tea. “Can I sleep with you tonight?”

“Of course.” Gentle fingers slowly combed through his hair.

The world was falling into the depths of madness, but in this moment Xiǎotiān could deceive himself into believing everything would work out.

#lego monkie kid #lmk #tang #sun wukong #qi xiaotian #monkie kid #past abuse #winterpower98 #monkie kid swap au #dad tang #Tang is Tripitaka #monkey tyrant

164 notes · View notes

jewfrogs · 3 years ago

Note

I'm loving this ask game, I love seeing how someone elses fav lyrics compare to mine. How about "We Shall All Be Healed"?

slow west vultures

breaking the signal so it's totally unreadable / drinking the dregs, eating the utterly inedible

palmcorder yajna

carpenter ants in the dresser / flies in the screen / it will be too late by the time we learn / what these cryptic symbols mean

linda blair was born innocent

we walk light down the wires / higher than weather balloons / empty hearts on fire

letter from belgium

in the cold clear light of day down here everyone's a monster / that's cool with all of us / we've been past the point of help since early april

the young thousands

the ghosts that haunt your building are prepared to take on substance / and the dull pain that you live with isn't getting any duller

your belgian things

i can see you in my sleep / playing the points for all they're worth / walking gingerly across / the bruised earth

mole

i came to see you up there in intensive care / out in the desert we'll live carefree

home again garden grove

hands in your pocket and sun on your face / the warm love of g-d coursing through you

all up the seething coast

but the best you've got is powerless against me / and all your little schemes break when they come crashing up against me

quito

and when i wave my magic wand / those few who've slipped the surly bonds / will rise like salmon at the spawning

cotton

this song is for the soil / that's toxic clear down to the bedrock / where nothing of consequence can grow / drop your seeds there, let them go

against pollution

when the last days come / we shall see visions / more vivid than sunsets / brighter than stars / we will recognize each other / and see ourselves for the first time / the way we really are

pigs that ran straightaway into the water, triumph of

let me ride where the dragonflies glide

#my favoritest album about methamphetamine addiction ever #ask #anonymous #tmg

5 notes · View notes

the-girl-in-the-box · 3 years ago

Text

Not Today- XXXIV

A/N: Aaand, another late chapter, oops! I had a bit of a crazy week, finishing preparations for an audition I had Wednesday for a music program at my university, then passing the audition, scrambling to get my schedule sorted on Thursday, attending my first day of classes Friday, and making up any work I missed Friday afternoon and all day Saturday. YIKES! �� But, I’m very happy in this program, and I can tell I’m finally right where I’m meant to be. Unfortunately, all that did lead to another late chapter, but I have made it an extra thousand words- hopefully that makes up for the lateness!! A trigger warning for child abuse toward the end (canon typical), but enjoy the chapter! Even bigger things are coming soon 👀 Skål!

Summary: When Ivar takes the throne of Kattegat, Lagertha flees to Wessex along with Björn, Ubbe, Torvi, and the Bishop Heahmund. There, they seek the aid of King Alfred. This aid comes in the form of his sister, Aethelind, who agrees to travel to Kattegat and try to reason Ivar, who she spent some time with during their youth, when her grandfather King Ecbert hosted Ragnar Lothbrok in their castle. Now, she is the only hope for Lagertha and her supporters to retake Kattegat from Ivar the Boneless.

Masterlist

Ivar was woken first by the light streaming in through their window, and he shifted slightly as if he could avoid it. He felt Asta shifting with him, though far more subtly, as she moved only to press her back closer to his side. He smiled a little, turning his head toward her, and then he shifted once more. Rolling up onto his side, he let one of his arms drape over her waist, and then pulled her tightly against his chest, burying his face in her hair. He found it blocked the sun out perfectly, and so he let out a contented sigh. Yes, he could get used to this.

She rolled over, and he chuckled a bit to himself as he felt her turning back towards him, her arms wrapping around him and head tucking up under his chin. He adjusted his grip to hold her more securely, his hand resting against her upper back as he pulled her under his arm. There was a greater intimacy between them now, he realized, than there had been before. All the nights they’d slept at each other’s sides, he had still held her then, but it hadn’t been the same as this. Whatever wall she had put up between them had finally cracked that night. With it, Ivar’s insecurities about her had as well.

Now, as he pulled back just a bit to look down at her, he smiled softly. The early morning light was reflecting gently off her skin, making her almost seem to glow in it, contrasting with the thick, dark waves which stretched out behind her. Truly, he would believe she was a goddess, if he was told it was so. As it stood, he believed with all his heart she truly was a Prophet.

“Your blood is fated together.”

The words entered his mind in the Seer’s voice, and when Ivar lifted his eyes, he saw him, sitting somewhere just behind her. But it wasn’t his own voice he heard reply, it was hers.

“Our blood?” she asked. “How can our blood be fated together?”

“In the blood of your fathers,” the Seer answered, no less frustratingly vague than he had been in life. “In the blood of your sons. King begets King, Priest begets Princess, and blood is fated to blood. The darkness grows as the light stays by his side. The tides are pulled by command of the moon.”

“What do you mean by that? What moon, and what tides?” she questioned.

“You are surrounded by the tides, Prophet. But they do not darken your light. You remain. You are all that remains. Wake, and drown in them.”

Asta’s eyes opened suddenly, taking a deep breath as she looked up at Ivar. He found himself blinking a few times, and… he smiled. Even though he knew she had rather mundane ways of making her prophecies, he had no doubt she was somehow truly a Prophet. If the Seer were here, were still alive, and could somehow speak with her, he would say the same. Ivar was sure of it.

Confusion crossed his face as he saw it grow in her, and she even sat up a bit, took a little bit of a look around. “Was there a man in here?” she asked, looking back to Ivar now with her brows drawn. He shook his head.

“None that I’m aware of,” he said. If there had been one, he’d snuck in while they’d slept. But Ivar couldn’t recall anyone but himself and Asta. “Did you hear something?”

“A man’s voice,” she answered. “He spoke to me. You’re sure you heard nothing?”

“I heard nothing,” he answered her honestly. “I have only been awake a few moments, but I think I would have noticed. Did you dream it?”

“Perhaps.”

“They say the Seer has appeared in dreams to people,” he told her. “I have not seen him since his death, but I know I have heard it said.”

Asta hummed, growing more thoughtful at this response from Ivar. “Was he a strangely cryptic man?” Ivar chuckled.

“There was nothing he said which made any sense until you saw it played out in your life,” he replied, which in turn made her chuckle as well. “What did the man in your dream say, hmm?”

To Ivar, it was beginning to sound as if the Seer had come to Asta in a dream, which was only serving to further convince him she was truly a Prophet. If the Seer gave her a prophecy, could that be how she knew to say some of what she did? Things such as her various warnings to Oleg? That would certainly make sense.

“He told me the tides would be pulled at the command of the moon.”

Ivar froze.

He’d heard those words, once before, when the very same prophecy had been given to him. Many times, he’d reflected on it as he watched Asta, and as he found himself doing whatever it was she needed. Even now, as he had proposed marriage to her, not only to ensure he never loses her, but also for her own security in Wessex, he was doing all he could for her. He couldn’t remember the last time another person had had such influence over him.

Well, there was Freydis. And, had Asta not stayed so steadfastly by his side, he might have questioned her in the aftermath of Freydis’s betrayal. But as it was, he found that he trusted her. He wanted to trust her. He didn’t know if he would be able to take her betrayal, not so shortly after Freydis’s. He needed her, and so he was pulled at her command. Ivar the Boneless would always be pulled at the command of Asta the Prophet.

He hummed, and brought a hand up to push her hair behind her ear. “What do you think it means, hmm?”

“I don’t know,” Asta replied. She leaned into Ivar’s touch, the way he brushed her hair back, and gave a sigh. “He said many other things, but nothing I could pick any meaning out of.”

“Try not to worry too much then, my love,” he said. “Just take some time to rest, instead.”

Asta nodded a little, taking in a deep breath and letting it out in a long exhale. “You’re right,” she said. “Yes, I’ll just…” She paused as she looked up at him, and cupped his jaw with her hand. “I’ll focus on you instead.”

Ivar smiled and nodded. “And I will focus on you,” he promised. He let his hand move from her hair to her back, pulling her closer as he leaned down to press his lips to hers. The little hum she gave, a sound of contentment he had learned to recognize from her the night before, made warmth spread through his chest. Indeed, if he could wake up with her like this every morning, he would die a happy man.

Unfortunately, as with all things, their morning together eventually came to an end, and Ivar and Asta had to get up and prepare for their day. Their routine was well established by now, and they moved around their chambers as if they’d been practicing this all their lives- stopping to help the other as needed, and finding the other there almost before the request was made.

If nothing else, they were nearly perfectly attuned to the other. Ivar would take a different breath when he was about to speak, and if he was sitting on the bed without his braces, then Asta knew what he wanted before he had even voiced it. She’d easily go to get his braces, and bring them to him, helping him to get them on his legs without being asked.

Likewise, she would give a very particular huff when she was struggling with her hair, and so Ivar would call her over before she even requested he help her with it. A perfect team was what they had become, and when the time came for them to take Igor to the market, both were prepared simultaneously, and ready to start their day. It was all terribly convenient, and gave them a sense of domesticity with the other about which they’d never complain.

Igor was already prepared to leave when they arrived at his chambers, and today, he’d clearly decided to bring along his puppet. Asta had smiled when she saw this, and chuckled softly.

“Ah, the King will be joining us today, then?” she asked him teasingly, and Igor grinned and nodded.

“He has decided he wants to get out,” he replied. “See his Kingdom.”

“Is that so, your Majesty?” Ivar asked the puppet.

Taking on a voice as if the puppet were speaking, Igor answered, “It is. I want to see my people, and how they are doing.”

The three went into the marketplace as they had planned, walking about and looking at different things for sale, laughing at a hat Asta tried on which didn’t suit her at all, and Ivar even bought a necklace for her, which did rather well suit her. It was a silver pendant, in which was carved the Triskele, a symbol of growth and change. The symbol seemed rather fitting, and so when she took to it, he gifted it to her. She’d grinned and hugged him happily, kissed his cheek, and asked him to put it around her neck. Seeing her so happy with the little gift had warmed Ivar’s heart.

Later, sometime that afternoon, a man approached Ivar while Asta was off at another booth, entertaining the boy with something. The message was something Ivar wasn’t overly fond of hearing, but accepted, and went to Asta and Igor with. “We must go,” he explained, and Asta sighed softly.

“Can I assume that…?” she began, and he gave a nod. This only caused her to let out an irritated huff. “He can’t even give us a day, can he? One day, just to do whatever we feel like?”

Ivar chuckled softly, and shook his head. “Apparently, he cannot,” he said. “Come.”

Asta rolled her eyes again, and turned to Igor. “Well?” she asked the boy. “Are you coming?”

“Where are we going?” he questioned, though he did follow Asta and Ivar as they started back toward the palace.

The latter of them answered, “To see Uncle Oleg.”

Igor wasn’t happy with this answer, and so decided to entertain himself by speaking once more through his puppet. “About what?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Ivar replied. “Oleg is… an enigma.”

“What’s an ‘igma’?” Igor asked then, confused enough at the word to drop the puppet voice and look up at Ivar. Asta chuckled softly, and corrected him.

“An enigma,” she said.

“What’s an enigma?”

Ivar chuckled softly, and shook his head. “I’ve no idea,” he replied.

“An enigma is something that cannot be understood,” Asta explained to them both. “And… a very fitting description for Oleg.”

Igor had stopped paying so much attention to what Asta and Ivar were saying, wondering to himself what it might be that his uncle wanted with them that was so important he had to interrupt their day out. “Perhaps Uncle Oleg wants to give me a present,” he suggested somewhat hopefully.

“Perhaps he does,” Asta agreed. She rather doubted it.

But, it was enough for Igor, who smiled and said, “Perhaps he wants to give me half of the sky.”

Ivar and Asta shared a brief look. The sky did not belong to Oleg, and so to hear Igor speak as though it did, even after the talks they’d had with him, was concerning to say the least. Ivar stopped, putting a hand on Igor’s shoulder as he turned to him.

“He cannot give you something that is already yours,” he told the boy seriously. “Remember that, hmm?”

Asta looked up, back toward the palace, where she found Oleg watching them from the balcony just above the door. He turned and went inside.

The trio soon found their way back into the palace, and into the main dining hall, where Oleg was already waiting for them, sitting at the head of the table as he did so. Katia sat to his right, and Asta swallowed slightly at the sight. Something didn’t sit right with her about this, though she wasn’t sure just what it was.

“Prince Igor,” she greeted, smiling at the sight of him. “And Ivar the Boneless and Asta the Prophet. How very lovely.” She smiled as well at the Vikings. “Will you have some tea?”

Oleg patted the place to his left as the Princess stood, gesturing for Igor to come and sit there, and the boy did so eagerly. Asta, still more than a touch suspicious, lifted her brow as she watched Katia go for the pot.

“Tea?” she questioned.

As opposed to answering, Katia simply repeated, “Tea,” with a warm smile.

Asta hummed and sat down, as Ivar asked, “What is tea?”

“A plant, from Asia,” Katia replied.

Of course, she answers him, Asta thought a bit bitterly.

As Ivar sat down beside her, Katia knelt to pour him a cup of tea, holding eye contact with him for far longer than necessary. She repeated this exactly with Asta, who looked up into her eyes with a silent question behind them. What are you playing at? they almost seemed to ask.

Katia’s seemed to answer, Trust me.

Asta blinked a few times, confusion crossing her face. Something in Katia’s expression made the Shieldmaiden want to do exactly that, though realistically she knew doing so would likely be a horrible decision. But what if it wasn’t? What if trusting Katia was something she was meant to do? What if nothing was as it seemed here in Kiev, and Katia was not doing as she seemed to be?

Oleg spoke again, pulling Asta’s attention away from the Rus Princess with his anxious tone as he suggested, of what tea was, that it was, “Medicine, perhaps,” and chuckled shortly after. So, Katia’s behavior was unsettling? Asta’s attention immediately returned to her, as Oleg began to try and move things along. “I thought you might be interested in the further plans for the invasion of your countries,” he said. “I mean, of course, our countries.”

A telling, “Hmm,” from Katia, who finished pouring the tea, and returned to her place at Oleg’s side.

Ivar replied, “Of course,” but Asta was now unable to stop thinking.

There was a message in Katia’s little hum, something about what Oleg had just said. What had he just said? The invasion of your countries. I mean, of course, our countries… Had that been a slip of the tongue, or of the subconscious? What was he saying through that?

She began to pay more attention as he explained, “As you know, we cannot put our plan into operation until next spring,” wanting to see if she could pick up on anything else out of the ordinary. “However,” he continued, “it seems to me it would be ill-advised to commit such huge forces into many unknown…”

At this time, Igor began to play with the puppet again, bored of the conversation regarding so much plotting and planning. He was still a child, after all, and what child wanted to plan the invasion of another country? Oleg noticed this, and gave a small sigh as he finished, “...theatres of war.”

Igor got up then, carrying the puppet around behind Oleg to go and sit beside Katia, who wrapped an arm around him and began to tend him much as a mother would. Oleg ignored this, and continued to speak.

“I know you can advise us on what we are likely to encounter,” he said to Ivar and Asta, “but I feel as though we need a more current and a much broader knowledge of those countries…” He became distracted by Igor pretending to feed the puppet, watching him for a few moments before continuing with a groan, “we plan to attack.”

Ivar could see the irritation beginning to grow in Oleg, and it occurred to him that if the man’s attention was not pulled away from the boy once more, he may lose his temper. That was something no one there, he didn’t doubt, would want to see. “Strategy and planning are everything,” he agreed as means of doing exactly this, and tapped the side of his head for emphasis. “The mind is a far better battlefield than the sword.”

“My intention is to send small raiding parties,” Oleg explained. Ivar’s plan had worked, then. “To take prisoners, from whom further information can be gleaned.”

Igor again got up, and moved to sit just to Ivar’s right, as if having been reminded by the Viking speaking up that he was there, and could indeed be sat with. Said Viking answered Oleg, “I agree, that is very sensible.”

“And, perhaps you would even consider appointing us to lead a couple of these raiding parties?” Asta suggested.

Oleg looked to her, as if a bit surprised she would make this suggestion. But, he smiled falsely at her, and replied insincerely, “I will definitely take your request into consideration. Although, Katia and I both enjoy your… intimate company.”

Asta wasn’t surprised he was already wanting to turn this down. After all, the entire reason she did want to go was to see if she could run into Hvitserk, or perhaps Torvi, Ubbe, even Björn… There was still a horrible feeling in her gut when she thought of Lagertha, of the nightmare she’d had concerning the older Shieldmaiden, and if she could just make contact with one of her old friends, without alerting them to Ivar’s location… she thought she might be able to find something out, and set her mind at ease.

She stopped staring Oleg down as Katia spoke up, seeming to agree with her husband. “You are both… very intriguing,” she said. “Some of the things you say surprise me, and I never know what you will say next. You claim there is a connection between us, which I cannot fully understand…”

Ivar smiled tightly at her, and Asta hummed. “I wish I could understand it,” she said. “You aren’t alone in that lack of understanding. In fact, I find it likely that only the gods know.”

Katia hummed, but before she could answer Asta, Igor began to beat the hand of the puppet on the table, as if the puppet were demanding everyone’s attention. Oleg glared irritatedly, but Ivar took a different approach, looking instead to appease the boy.

“What do you say, Prince Igor?” he asked. “Do you want to come with us on a raiding party?”

“I must consult the King,” Igor said, and Ivar acquiesced with a hum, and a gesture to the puppet which clearly encouraged Igor to do so. Taking on the puppet’s ‘voice’ once again, Igor said, “I think you should make your own decisions!”

Oleg cracked.

“What are you doing, huh?!” he demanded, almost launching himself to his feet and storming around the table toward Igor. He pulled the boy up to his feet, and yelled, “Are you crazy?” before throwing him back down again.

Asta gasped, but before she could get up to push Oleg away from Igor, Igor himself stood, and putting the puppet between himself and Oleg, speaking once more through it, he shouted back, “I am not crazy! I am the King and I own everything! This table, this room, this palace! I own the land and the sky!”

Ivar watched, almost as if enthralled or entranced, as Igor finally stood up for himself. It was a far cry from the anxious expression his ‘wife’ wore, and her hand closed around his arm tightly. Oh yes, she was anxious indeed.

And, she was right to be, as Oleg then screamed, and snatched the puppet away from Igor, throwing it to the ground and stomping on it, shredding it until it was nothing more than chips of wood. When Igor tried to run, Oleg grabbed him by the back of his collar, and threw him down as if he weighed no more than the puppet. He got down into Igor’s face, and snapped, “Don’t do that anymore! Don’t be stupid. You are not the King, you are my ward. I am responsible for you, and without you, you are nothing. Do you understand?” Igor tried to look away from him, and Oleg grabbed his jaw, forcing the boy’s attention back. “Don’t ever try to make fun of me again, or I’ll cut out your tongue and feed your liver to my dogs.”

Finally released, Igor jumped to his feet, and fled the room.

Asta, horrified, turned to watch Oleg as he stood, straightened his coat, and returned to sit beside Katia once more- though, the Princess seemed to, at the least, be judging Oleg’s actions quite harshly in her head. “He’s a good boy,” Oleg said. “He just needs to be controlled.”

Katia took a sip of her tea.

When the room remained silent, Oleg again spoke. “You had a child once, didn’t you, Ivar?”

Asta’s eyes hardened, and she glared daggers at Oleg, sensing how Ivar tensed up beside her in a highly uncomfortable way. He gave Oleg a tight smile, took his crutch, and stood. “Forgive me,” he said. “I’ve had enough to eat.” The way he picked up the shattered puppet, and carried it from the room, revealed that was far from the true problem.

Asta took a deep breath, closing her eyes briefly as she stood, and looked down at Oleg. His eyes met hers once more, preparing for another battle of will with her, but today, she wasn’t playing. She spoke one sentence. “The gods will judge you harshly, Prince Oleg.” One sentence, and she left.

Ivar and Asta had eventually found Igor up in the nest in his room, and both had managed the climb up in there to sit with him. The boy now rested against Ivar, who held him tightly, with Asta’s arms wrapped around them both.

“Do not weep, dear Igor,” Ivar said softly, and pressed a soothing kiss to the top of his head. “Sweet child, do not weep. We are here, now.”

Asta knew Igor likely didn’t realize the full meaning of Ivar’s words. But she did, and she agreed with him wholeheartedly. She and Ivar had become fiercely protective of Igor, in their time in Kiev, and now that they were there, they weren’t going to let Oleg get away with treating him like this. No, on the contrary.

They were going to make him pay.

Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius, @katfett, @sylki-simp, @heavenly1927, @pomegranates-and-blood, @kingniazx, @dekusdante

If you want to be added to the taglist, feel free to reach out either by commenting, reblogging, DMing me, or sending an ask, and I’ll be more than happy to add you!

#ivar the boneless #ivar #ivar ragnarsson #alex høgh andersen #ivar's heathen army #ivar x oc #ivar x original female character #ivar x ofc #ivar x christian!oc #vikings #vikings history channel #history channel vikings #not today #chapter thirty-four

18 notes · View notes

shianhygge-imagines · 4 years ago

Text

Silver Rose [Vergil/Reader] [V/Reader] {Devil May Cry} The Mortal Half

AN: I apologize for the wait! The road of life took a bit of a wild turn, and my writing (along with a few other things) suffered for it.

On another note... anyone as excited for DMC5: Special Edition as I am :D

This chapter is a long one that I wanted to write and post as soon as possible (I was tempted to wait until all chapters of Visions of V were out). I will probably come back to re-explore V’s character at a later time because damn it, Visions of V really kicked my ass with the character development.

WARNING: As I have mentioned in a separate post, there is a section of smut in here. This is actually the first full smut scene I’ve ever written, so please excuse the awkwardness... and the kinks... and if it sucks.

So, yeah. It’s now a Vergil/Reader as well as a V/Reader story. Cheers!

If you like the content I create, please consider donating to my Ko-fi! Please help me feed my tea addiction!

|Masterlist Link| |First Chapter| |Prev. Ch.| --- |Next Ch.|

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

4th May 01:40pm

When you woke the next morning, Shadow was still curled into your side, its eyes closed and seemingly content despite the afternoon sunlight pouring through the windows. Though you’d slept peacefully through the rest of the night, it was rather strange having another presence in the same bed as you. After all, you hadn’t shared your bed with another individual since Vergil had started leaving on his alarmingly frequent trips away from your home in Red Grave City. And although it had been years since you visited that place, the mere thought of those nights brought a frown to your previously content face. Closing your eyes and exhaling slowly, you mentally gave the box of memories a rough shove away.

It’s best not to dwell on unpleasant thing, Y/N. You muse to yourself with the slightest tensing of your body.

Sensing your change in mood, Shadow shifted to rest a lightly dozing head on your stomach, cracking a single ruby eye open to check on you as a purr rumbles throughout its body in an effort to calm you.

Running a hand through the shadow panther’s silky ‘fur’, you hummed absentmindedly in response. “Just unpleasant memories, Shadow.” When the remnant of your husband’s memories merely huffs in a feline scoff, you turn to cuddle into the Nightmare demon. “I am 100% sure that V didn’t tell me the truth last night… but if there’s anything I’ve learned over the years, prying is generally not the correct course to take to learn the whole truth. Still though,” you sigh wistfully, “My life has been so chaotic and cryptic that there are times where I wish that I was born a normal girl.”

Although you wished to say more, your lips clam up the moment that you hear a knock at the door. “Y/N? It’s nearly 2pm. Are you awake, yet?”

You share a look with Shadow, “Well, speak of the devil, I guess.” You don’t bother moving as you call out to the moral man, “You can come in, V. I’m awake, but I sure as hell ain’t getting out of bed yet.” Even though you say this, you lift your head to peer over Shadow’s dark body as V enters the room with an eyebrow raised.

“Do you have any intention of leaving your bed, Y/N? It’s well into the afternoon.” V inquires with a furrowed brow as he closes the door and continues forward to the side of the bed with a limp.

“Oh…. Is it? I hadn’t noticed.” You remark cheerfully, settling back down into the sheets as you pet Shadow. “I don’t think I will any time soon, no.”

Unsure as to how to proceed with your blatant denial to rise from bed, V gestures towards the edge of your king sized bed. “May I have a seat?”

“Knock yourself out, V. This bed is too big anyways, so… ‘free real estate’ I guess.” You found yourself repeating the meme that a group of orphans in Fortuna City had taken the time to teach you… though you were unsure if you had used the meme in the proper context.

Your eyes shifted to meet V’s green once you felt the edge of the bed dip to your left. In the daylight, with the sun’s rays pouring into the room, V seemed… sickly. It was worrying how skinny and pale he was despite the hint of power you could feel in him. If it weren’t for his contract with Vergil’s remnants, you would not have any confidence in V’s ability to defend himself should you all take on Urizen. And once Vergil had been defeated again (though you found yourself in pain just thinking about killing your beloved), would the powers disappear and leave the young man before you weak and on the verge of collapse?

“There’s no need to worry, Y/N.” V’s gaze is almost gentle as he reassures you, “I promise that I’ll not suddenly collapse.” Not realizing that you had been staring, you blinked your eyes and mumbled an apology. “No, don’t apologize. It is only natural to doubt my abilities when I look like this.” The young man gestures towards his weakened body with a carefully bitter expression that would stick with you for days to come. “My powers are limited, which is why it is absolutely imperative that we stop Urizen before he grows too powerful.” When you don’t respond, trying to find a way to comment without offending him, V took it as a sign of sadness. “I couldn’t help but overhear you before I entered. That you wished that you were born to a normal life.”

Your face scrunches up as you force yourself to sit, “If I’m being perfectly honest, V… I don’t really know you well enough to pour my heart and soul out.”

V’s smile remains slightly bitter even as he pulls out the anthology of William Blake poems and hands it over to you. “Fair enough, Ms. Y/N. By all means, save your words. I only ask that you listen to what I have learned about you and your past.” When you reluctantly take a hold of the tome, V gestures towards it, “The note written on the back cover of that volume seems to imply that the person who gifted it to you was rather fond of you.”

The book’s cover was immaculate, but upon closer inspection, you noticed that the pages have yellowed from its age. Brows scrunched and curious, you immediately flipped to the back cover and withheld a gasp at the painfully familiar handwriting scrawled along the back cover.

To my beautiful silver rose,

Perhaps it is just the slightest bit vain that I gift this book to you. After all, an exact copy of this anthology sits on my book shelf in the study. But I noticed that you’ve taken a deeper interest in these old poems as of late, so I sought out a copy for yourself. Please do not think I turn a blind eye to your sadness when I am away, Y/N. I do my best to comfort you while I have you in my arms, but I must see my goals through. When I am gone, please read these poems and think of me. Just as I will think of you.

Rest assured that no matter how far I travel, Y/N, that I will always find my way back to you.

Your loving husband,

Vergil Sparda

“You were in that place, weren’t you?” You asked V as your fingers traced the note written into the cover. “There is no way you’d have this particular volume if you hadn’t been.”

V nodded, his eyes carefully watching as you caressed the book. “When I found Vergil’s remnants, they had been drawn to that book which had been left in one of the upstairs bedrooms.”

“I left it there when Vergil embarked on his quest through Hell.” You admitted, melancholic. “The book had been a constant reminder of an empty promise, so I tried to bury my past. Obviously it didn’t work, but I left the book in Vergil’s childhood room regardless.”

“Why the book?” V wondered, “Aside from the note in the back, the tome seems ordinary.”

Handing the book back to the younger man, you merely smiled a tame smile, “It was a symbol of hope that I didn’t want, as well as a constant reminder that the man I love abandoned me in favor of demonic power.” Slipping out of bed, you grabbed a robe and ventured into the bathroom, only a final statement leaving your lips before the door shut behind you, “And nothing’s worse than to be reminded that I wasn’t enough.”

22nd May 11:32am

You’re not sure if you should be worried or relieved by how easy it was to trail V through the city wreckage as you sprinted and jumped from one roof to another. The mysterious young man traversed the streets below with his Nightmare demons protecting him as low leveled demons appeared along the path. Over the course of the past few days, you and V had taken shelter within your home in Red Grave City. Although there were times where you interacted, V regularly ventured out into the city on patrols and supply runs, seemingly under the impression that you were still injured from the encounter with Urizen at the heart of the Qliphoth Tree. More often than not, V would leave in the afternoons and return in the morning.

Although you were touched by his care for your well-being, you still couldn’t but feel distrustful and suspicious of V. The names of his demon contracts… Hence your current trailing… and as it turns out, his actual hair color is white.

With how many demons there were roaming the streets, you were surprised that V had lasted this long. Though, from your spot seated on the roof above the corner where V fought to protect a small group of surviving humans, you could tell that the younger man was becoming weaker the more he used his abilities. You would jump down and aid him if he needed it, but only if he needed it.

Your initial assessment of V was that he didn’t care for humans in the slightest after watching him walk fast the human corpses without a care. The way the younger looking man had gazed upon the carnage with indifference… you remembered shivering and thinking that there was no way he was completely human. Though, after that night, you were pleased to learn that V had quickly taken up the role as protector while the humans evacuated.

Your attention drifted back into the present when V slumped over below you, exhausted as he sat upon a pile of demon corpses. The humans that he had protected were cowering against the wall opposite of V, and you frowned when none rose to offer aid to the sickly man, who had begun to pale more than he normally did.

You heard V heave a tired sigh as he asked Griffon a question, “How many days has it been?”

The demon summon flapped its wings and hovered above his master, “Three.”

V slumped over, curling in upon himself, his dark hair hanging to cover his face. “I’m not sure that I can even last a month.” Your frown deepened at that comment. That’s news to me… shit. Now I feel bad for not helping him. You rose from your seated position and removed your eyes from V to sweep the area with a vigilant gaze.

“You’re just going willy-nilly, spending all your strength like that.” Griffon squawked mockingly, “Nicely done, buddy. If you continue like this, you’re gonna croak before the kid even returns.”

So, V’s dying? You wondered, Who is he? What’s his deal? How is he involved in this mess to begin with? Your gaze also darkens when the humans call V and Griffon monsters. We have to protect humanity, yes. But this is one of those times where I understand Vergil’s distaste for humanity. Then again… nothing is perfect.

Your eyes sweep briefly back down to make sure that V was in the clear while searching for food just as you felt several demonic presences appear behind you. Stepping away from the ledge, you nodded and unsheathed the Totsuka just as several Hell Bats and a Lusachia attempt to ambush you.

Your steps are quiet as you slide under several fireballs and sprint across the rooftop to a less narrow roof. “Okay, folks. I’m going to have to ask you to be as quiet as possible during this entire transaction we got going here.” You chirp with a smirk, voice carefully lowered to just below your normal speaking voice. “I don’t want my friend knowing that I’m spying on him. Heh.” As expected, none of the demons respond, opting to rush you with fireballs and incantations.

Your feet are moving before your brain catches up with the attacks, running in wide arcs and tight turns to avoid the incoming fireballs and incantation circle. “Sorry, what was that?” Your grin is feral as you push off from the rooftop in a wide swipe at the Lusachia, striking it with a shallow cut before kicking off of it in a backflip, free hand pulling out your Silver Rose to shoot it in the face a few times. “I couldn’t hear what you were saying!” As you stick the landing, you shoot it once more before raising the same hand to your ears, “You’re gonna have to speak louder!”

Of course the Lusachia can only groan as it falls, dying from the wounds you’ve inflicted upon it. Around you, the Hell Bats screech and rush, swooping down in lines of fire as you duck and dodge. “No, no! I wasn’t talking to you guys! You’re a bit too loud, so imma have to ask you to shut up!” Just as two Hell Bats swoop down to attack you from both sides, you holster the Silver Rose and Totsuka, getting into a wide stance. When the bats are close enough, you unsheathe the Totsuka in a single movement, cutting down the demons before they could even touch you.

The remaining Hell Bat screeches and flies back towards the grocery store’s roof, but you only grin and follow, Totsuka sheathed once more. “No, no! I’m gonna getcha!”

You are probably a step away from killing the bat yourself, when you notice a giant meteor suddenly appear in the sky above you. “Ah! Nope!” You are just in time to kick off the grocery store roof and flip to safety when Nightmare crashes into the grocery store, completely decimating the building. Wincing at the loss of the area’s last remaining food source, you crouch down upon the ledge of another roof and scan over the wreckage below. “…that was overkill.”

It seems… from how loudly Griffon was protesting, that it agreed with your assessment. “You’re killin’ me here, V! Didja really have to take it that far? You could’ve just-oh, I don’t even know where to begin!”

You watch as a boy and his mother walk out of the wrecked grocery store before jumping down from the rooftop, casually strolling over to where V and Griffon continued to converse. You were about to speak when V crouched down and suddenly took a bite out of a demon’s carcass.

The only thing you could do at seeing the younger man eat the demon meat was dry heave loudly.

Both V and Griffon freeze before turning their heads to look at you. “Aw shit!” Griffon curses, “It’s the Lady Sparda!”

You hold back the gag threatening to escape as you approach the two, eyes trained on the blood staining V’s mouth. There’s unfiltered horror on V’s face even as you crouch down and wipe away the blood with a handkerchief. “Raw demon meant cannot be good for you.” The horror softens when you sigh and offer V a hand, “Come on. I still have canned food in the pantry back home. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You don’t see the grief and regret upon V’s face as you turn to lead him out of the wreckage, hand in hand.

~~~~~

V’s Point of View

V’s green eyes never leave your back the entire way back to the house that Vergil had bought you all those years ago. He is exhausted from overusing his abilities, his mind muddled and unfocused. V can tell that the silence bothers you. He’s known that the silence bothers you ever since you’d both fled from this very city when you were children. Still, the past few hours have rendered him too tired to speak. So the silence continues.

Even as you fix him a meal.

Even as you sit down with him to eat.

Even as you guide him to the bathroom.

Even as you place a set of his pajamas on the counter.

Even as you leave the bathroom with a comment that you’d be in the study.

Even in his mute state, V doesn’t fail to see the melancholy in your eyes.

As he undresses, leaving his demon blood soiled clothes in the sink, V laments his current situation.

The house that he’d bought for you is still very much the same as it was over twenty years ago. Aside from the changes in products and appliances on the inside, it is as he left it. There are signs that Y/N doesn’t live in the building as often as she should… canned and dried food products in the pantry… a fridge empty except for bottled water and frozen meals… untouched kitchen appliances… a vacuum that seemed to be over ten years old… dust gathering in the unused rooms where they had planned to put a baby crib… his old clothes packed into boxes and shoved into the very same dusty rooms…

When the overly large bathtub is filled with hot water, V forces himself into the separate shower to quickly rinse off the dried blood and grime coating his skin. In the back of his mind, he recalls a memory where you told him that it was gross to sit in filth when taking a bath. The memory brings a constricting feeling to his chest and he doesn’t care that he drips water everywhere as he leaves the shower in favor of the bathtub.

The soap used in the shower is the same scent you’ve always used. The brand has changed, but it seems that you haven’t. His chest constricts some more when he realizes that you haven’t changed much since the last he saw you aside from your overuse of snark and slang. Sinking into the hot water and wrapped in your scent, V laments that the melancholy in your eyes was nothing new. When he was Vergil… a young Vergil from over twenty years ago… the last year spent with you before Temen Ni Gru… there were times where he noticed your eyes fill with melancholy. V winces, visibly in pain as he forces himself to remember. Vergil had known you were sad and lonely… but he had chosen to ignore your pain.

And even now, when he was no longer that man, V continues to hurt you.

The mortal half slips under the water before he knew it, his mind running wild with reflection.

Strange.

I feel rather peculiar.

I’m scared because I am weak.

I’ve resorted to depending on others because I am afraid.

That is what the weak do.

I’m…

…ever since I got this body, all I’ve been doing are things that I don’t want to do.

All of my thoughts are things I don’t want to think about.

(Y/N. Mother. Dante.)

While I’ve always intended on reflecting on why I lost (to Dante… to Mundus),

The reality is, I’ve moved on a long time ago.

I always thought I could fill this emptiness with power.

Anything that I lacked could be compensated with raw power.

How ironic.

It was only after I was stripped of all my strength that I realized…

That it was always within reach.

Always.

Deep inside, the answer was always there.

~~~~~

Y/N’s Point of View

“V?” You knock on the door to the master bathroom after around ten minutes, intent on taking the man’s clothes in order to wash them. “V, I need your clothes so I can put them in the wash.” When there is no answer, you knock again, “V? If you don’t answer me, I’m just gonna come in.” Your brows furrow at the lack of answer. “… Well, I warned you. I’m coming in.”

There’s a distinct lack of sound inside the bathroom when you enter although the dirty clothes are in the sink, “Um… V?” Your gaze sweeps across the large bathroom to rest upon the filled bathtub, and you frown when you notice the bubbles rising from the middle of the large tub. Creeping closer, you can see V under the water, his gaze empty and melancholic. No more bubbles rise from his lips, and you suddenly realize that V might be too tired to notice that he was drowning.

You don’t notice the wet floor, and you don’t care that the man is completely nude. Something in you beckons you forward, and you practically sprint to climb into the bathtub, taking a firm hold of his torso and lifting V’s upper half out of the water.

V’s green eyes blink blearily as he stares into yours. “V?” You whisper, letting go of his torso once he’d sat up on his own. Your hands come up to brush his dark hair out of his eyes. “Are you okay?”

The man lets out a shaky breath and ducks his head, nodding. “I appreciate the sentiment, Y/N. But I wasn’t in any danger. You didn’t have to climb in to save me.”

“You weren’t breathing, V.” You deadpanned, bringing up a hand to flick his forehead. “Nobody’s dying in my house.”

The two of you are quiet for a few moments until V turns to look away from you. “As much as I am grateful for you kindness, I don’t want to imagine what your husband would do to me if he finds out that you bathed with another man.”

You flush a deep red when you notice the position you were in… straddling a completely nude V in the bathtub while you sit in a soaked white nightgown that was becoming see through. “I… uh…”

You’re at a loss for words and continue to be at a loss for words when V turns back to stare you down with darkened eyes. He scoots you closer, pressing you against his body as he teases lowly, “Unless… I entice you…?”

You swallow hard when you notice that something hard is pressed up against you.

~~~~~~

Third Person Omniscient Point of View

“I… don’t…” The water is starting to cool in the bathtub, sending chills up your body even as you flush from head to toe. The only source of warmth is from V, who holds you close, his green eyes gazing at you with a myriad of emotions… Lust… Affection… Loneliness… Guilt… Mischief… Love… It has been over twenty years since someone has made love to you, and for all your faith and devotion, you want to feel that intense pleasure… that warm intimacy once more. You know that a demonic Vergil has run rampant across your home city, that what remains of your husband’s humanity has bonded with the man before you… You know that something within you call for V and beckons you to continue… to give in.

The moment that you pulled V out of the water, soaked from head to toe with concern in you eyes, V knew that he could continue this charade with you. He’d been cruel to you for most of your life, and he couldn’t bear to be cruel for another minute. He wants you to know him completely once more. As Vergil as well as V. What he wanted and need this entire time had been something you’d been willing to give him from the beginning, and Vergil had been a fool to cast you aside. Yet, with you pressed so close to him, your scent invading his senses, all V can think about is his love for you. A love that had never died, just stubbornly ignored. He’d neglected you for over twenty years because of his mistake. And now, if you are willing, he would make love to you until that melancholy has been chased away.

You gasp when V presses his lips to the crook of your neck, whimpering as he simply brushes his lips over your skin in light caresses. The mortal half smirks against your skin and whispers to you in a low rumble. “I’ve slacked in my duties, Y/N.” His hands trail up your bare thighs resting on either side of his hips, bunching up the material as his hands rise sensually to rest upon your waist.

“W-what are you…saying?” It would be remiss of you to not notice the same phrase that Vergil used on the day he asked you to marry him. When did your breathing become heavy?

V’s lips trail upwards along the column of your throat achingly slow as he kisses teasingly along the way. His thumb traces gentle patterns on the skin of your waist even as he lifts you from his hips to place you close to the edge of the bathtub. He’s on all fours, knelt before you with his arms propped up on either side of your head as he continues the kiss until he’s at your ear. “I’ll show you how much you mean to me, my beautiful wife.” V growls as he gently nips your ear.

Shocked, you pull away to stare at the man. “V…” you plead, voice weak from arousal and heartbreak, “Please don’t play with my heart like this.”

The dark expression softens as V leans forward to press a loving kiss to your lips before pulling back. “I’ve made so many mistakes in the past, Y/N. The greatest was leaving you in pursuit of power.” His green eyes are filled with guilt as he sighs miserably, “You were right. Power isn’t everything. And I was wrong to call you a burden all those years ago.” At the reminder, you flinch backwards, and suddenly it is no longer just guilt on V’s face, but self-loathing. “Because of me, we lost so much time. Over twenty years of sorrow and regrets, and I didn’t want this to be another regret.”

“So, you’re…”

“I am Vergil… but not quite.” V confirms, “I… made another mistake, and this is the result.”

V’s lip move to continue, but you quickly shut him up by pressing your lips firmly against his. Your arms are raised to drape over his shoulders, pulling him closer as you deepen the kiss with a hungry moan. You part your lips before V can tease you, and heavy desire pools below when his tongue teases the roof of your mouth.

V’s hands find their way to the hem of your soaked nightgown, grasping the edges firmly and lifting when you separate briefly to assist him in undressing you. You hear your nightgown flop into the water as V tosses the article of clothing to the side, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You press yourself into V, hands rising to hold his face as your lips capture his once more. “Explanations can wait until tomorrow.” Your voice is thick with desire as you pull away just the slightest to leave the bathtub.

After casually slipping your soaked panties off, you turn back to V to beckon him after you. You can hear him leave the tub as you walk out of the master bathroom and into the bedroom.

(Smut Alert!!!)

You don’t make it to the bed before V catches up to you, his hand snatching yours and halting your progress forward. The air conditioning is on, and the cool breeze on your wet skin elicits a shiver through your body just as your nipples harden. Soon, your shivering is not from the cold air, but from the heat of having V’s naked body pressed into your back. His right arm moves to circle around your waist, pressing his palm flat against your pelvis while his left arm releases you in favor of cupping your left breast. You can feel him hard against the small of your back as V presses urgent kisses along your shoulder.

“Tell me, Y/N.” His voice is a husky growl between sensual kisses as his fingers tweak your nipple with a quick flick. “Did you ache for me while I was gone?” V’s right palm lowers to rest just over your mound drawing molten patterns just upwards of your clit. “Did you stay up touching yourself to thoughts of what I might do to you when I returned?”

You know your husband, and even if V wasn’t completely Vergil, the teasing was enough of a tell to know that he could play the long game. If you don’t answer. If you don’t let out the sinful sounds he’s looking for… V would refuse to continue. And after twenty plus years without, you didn’t want to wait another moment.

“Y-yes!” You moaned, body aching for more as your pussy gets wetter. “Every night that I’m alone.” The tortured whimper from your lips pleases V immensely as his hand dips lower to cup your sex, long fingers swiping just lightly before pulling away to show you just how wet you are.

“And when you thought of me during those nights, were you as soaked then as you are now?” His voice had been sinful as Vergil, but the deep airy whispers that V makes has you licking your lips in anticipation as his fingers play with your juices. V rests his chin upon your shoulder and brings his fingers up to his lips, “No, right?” You can’t reply, too entranced as he licks your juices off his fingers. “Hmmm.” He moans as you whimper, bringing his hand back down to rest exactly on your clit. “I want to taste more of you.” V growls, a finger toying with your clit while his remaining fingers dip into your slit, spreading your juices all over your lips.

Head tilted, you can only moan when V dips a long finger into your pussy before immediately pulling out. “V… please s-stop teasing me!” You beg, quivering as your hands raise to tug his arms close.

He hums and thrusts his hips into your back slightly, not enough for him to receive any pleasure from it, but enough so that you know how much harder he’s become. “Hmmm” V purrs into your ear, turning his hand so that it locks with yours, fingers intwined for just the moment, “Well, if that is what my love desires…” In a single fluid movement, he’d spun you around and gently guided you to rest upon your bed. “Then who am I to deny?”

Although sickly, you can’t help but salivate over how the black markings decorate his torso and arms. They trail in intricate patterns all over his torso and down to his pelvis, ending at… oh. Fuck. He’s longer than I expected. The part of him that stands at attention, partially curved up, draws your attention better than his beautiful green eyes and dark hair. You’re sure that V can hear how fast your heart is racing as he smirks, completely at ease as he saunters forward and crawls over you. There are whispers at the back of your mind telling you to touch him, but you only ignore them as V presses slow, open mouthed kisses along every inch of skin on his way up to your mouth.

He stops just shy of kissing your core, where an unbearable amount of heat has gathered.

He presses gentle, mournful kisses to the spot that Vergil and Urizen stabbed, his eyes briefly meeting yours with a silent plea for forgiveness.

He licks up the valley between your breasts, eyes closes as if he’s savoring the taste of your skin.

He issues a silent challenge by meeting your gaze as he pulls one of your nipples into his mouth while a hand plays with the other. You meet his gaze and stubbornly refuse to look away even as you feel his tongue flick and lap, even as the heat of his mouth becomes almost too much to bear.

When he finally makes his way to your mouth, V’s smiling, something that has always been rare even when he was Vergil. The slow kiss that follows is sweet and loving, but is interrupted as you gasp. V smirks smugly as his fingers circle your slit a few times before he presses a finger into you… then two. His green eyes watch you in adoration as he pumps his fingers in and out of your soaked pussy, taking in your moans as if it were the sweetest melody he’d ever heard.

You can’t help the moans that fall from your lips or that your legs spread to give V more space. You want more.

“V!” You whimper, even as he presses a third in. “P-please!”

He pretends he doesn’t hear you, continuing to finger fuck your pussy as his thumb plays with your swollen clit. It has been over twenty years since he’d had you beneath him. And with all the shit he’s pulled in the past, he wants you to cum at least once before he takes you.

After years without, you don’t last as long as you’d hoped. The rush of pleasure builds up faster than you expect. Your legs stiffen and your toes curl as the heat builds up to a climax, sending you over the edge of wild abandon and heavy breaths.

You come back from the haze to find V grinning triumphantly, licking your juices from his fingers once more. When scowl dangerously, V only continues to grin. It doesn’t take much more than a push to reverse your positions, but still V’s grin persists.

“Not satisfied, my love?”

“You know damn well that I’m not satisfied.” You mutter with a pout, throwing your legs over his hips so that you can press your soaked lips against his throbbing cock. Biting your lip, you stay still for a few moments as you look down at V, his dark hair sprawled upon the bed and lustful gaze staring up.

“And how would you have me repent, Y/N?” The words are out of his mouth before V realizes it.

You hum, tracing your fingers along the black lines adorning his chest before moving your hips to slid your pussy along his cock. “I want you to fuck me, V.” His body tenses when you continue to tease him, “I want you to fill me up. To make me cum so many times that I forget my name. To make me scream so loud from pleasure that fucking Urizen can hear it from his stupid demon tree.”

A growl is your only answer before V’s gaze darkens once more and you find yourself pressed into the bed, watching as V positions himself between your legs, lining himself up so that the head of his weeping cock is pressed to your opening.

“If Urizen hears the sounds of your pleasure, he might be compelled to take you as well.” He’s teasing you again.

“Urgh, V, jus-ah!” You’re interrupted when his hips snap forward, sheathing his cock to the hilt.

“I’ve never been one to share.” V gasps, holding onto your hips as he pulls away and snaps back.

All you can do is moan and move to meet his hips, lewd noises filling your quiet home as V sets a quick pace. After years of denying yourself the pleasures of the flesh, you can feel your cunt stretch around V. Already sensitive from your previous orgasm, it takes everything for you not to cum again just from being filled. Your soft moans and gasps of his name fuel V’s desire, and soon, as you cry for more, he sets a brutal pace, pounding into your pussy as your writhe beneath him.

His green eyes are wild as he pounds deep into your womb, something like determination in his eyes, “Y/N.” Your name is like a prayer upon his lips, “You asked me to fill you up.”

If it was possible, another jolt of pleasure shot through your body and straight to your core, and you found yourself tightening around him at what V was implying. “Yes.” You moan, throwing your hands up to wrap around his shoulders, “Yes, V! Fuck! I need you to cum in me!”

Unable to stop himself anymore, V let go of whatever control he had and thrust into you with wild abandon. He didn’t even know if he could impregnate you in his current state, and he knew that it was reckless to try, but fuck if he wasn’t going to try anyways. It was all you’d ever wanted with Vergil. A family. And if he could give you this, too…

God, you wanted to be filled. The thought of finally having a child leaves you wailing and on the edge of release. You could feel him throb as he abandoned rhythm, muttering ‘I love you’ as his body quaked with each thrust before abruptly stopping. The moment you feel his warmth spilling deep into you is when you finally allow yourself to fall over the edge with a wordless moan, pussy pulsing as you milk V of his release.

Coming down from the high, you find yourself entangled in V’s arms, the both of you breathing heavy as you both lay on the bed. Like all times before Vergil left, the two of you lay in silence, content with each other’s presence.

(Smut end… *fans self* as a side note, they absolutely cleaned up after an additional two rounds :P)

23rd May 09:32am

You woke up to the sounds of a struggle, bolting from the bed with light steps and snatching the Silver Rose from your nightstand. You heard something clank and clatter from within the bathroom just as you pressed yourself to the wall, gun raised as you peered into the room. What you saw in had you in a fit of laughter.

“Ahahahahaha! Oh my gosh! V!” Your finger leaves the trigger as you bend over with a laugh, , “I have a washer and dryer for a reason!”

V grumbled and flushed lightly as he wrestled his clean, but soaked pants from Griffon and Shadow. “…” The set of pajamas that you’d coaxed V into the previous night were thoroughly soaked through because he’d decided to hand wash and hand dry his only set of clothes.

“Guess we’ve been camping out too much, huh, buddy?” Griffon chirped after letting go of the black pants.

Shadow lets out a growl in warning, also letting go of the pants in favor of approaching you, rubbing its face against your side with a purred greeting. Though you raise a brow in question, you raise a hand to scratch behind the panther’s ears. “I have many questions, I’m not going to beat around the bush.”

V sighs and sets his clothes on the sink counter before walking towards to pull you into a loving embrace, “Let me change into some dry clothes, and we’ll talk over breakfast.”

His wet clothes feel cold against your nightgown, but you don’t mind, humming as you snuggle into V’s embrace.

15th June 06:00am

“Hurry up, Shakespeare! The Lady Sparda and I aren’t gonna wait for your slow ass all the time!” Griffon called back towards V from his perch on your right arm.

“Oh, don’t be like that, Griff. He’s trying his best.” You chide, turning to stare at V just as he closes the remaining few meters to stand at your side. The past month had been an ordeal, but here you were, about to meet up with your son to end this mess. Turning to V, you playfully nudge him, “Let’s go, V.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I will definitely be writing more about Reader’s time with V as chapters of Visions of V release.

As always, thank you so much for reading!

PS. Hi, yes, Tumblr. Please don’t eat up my chapter again.（╹◡╹）THanks

248 notes · View notes