#Kyrie Has Two Hands

[dmc-questions-anon]

[put-me-out-of-my-destiny]

Trish, Lucia, Lady, Kyrie, and Nico are having a get-together, and generally having a good time, when through the open window, an object is tossed into the room.

Nico picks it up, and finds it to be a Gold Orb with the text "For The Fairest" written on the side.

Now, vanity aside, Gold Orbs are a very rare and useful commodity for a devil hunter, and doubly so for the significant other of a devil hunter, so naturally everyone in the room wants the Orb.

So, they each make Nico an offer:

Trish offers knowledge of the Underworld - she'll answer any questions Nico has about the history, culture, and magic of demonkind.

Lucia offers to invite Nico for dinner at Matier's - her mother's a good cook, and if anyone thinks that's a lame offer, it's their loss.

Lady offers demon parts - for the next few months, every demon she kills will go straight to Nico's workshop to be dissected. Trish avoids eye contact.

Then Nico turns to Kyrie, and asks what her offer is. However, Kyrie doesn't make an offer - instead she simply walks up to Nico, and kisses her on the mouth, all while taking the Orb from her hands.

Nico does not object.

The others are stunned by Kyrie's boldness, but she just returns to her seat as though nothing out of the ordinary happened.

[alicethenobody]

My headcanons about the Sparda twins coming back from hell.

-They’re stuck for about 11 months, after they find a way out after managing to sever those stupid roots so they don’t bother anybody anymore.

-Just in time for Patty’s 19th birthday party!

-Somehow they accidentally end up there, and chaos ensues.

-Patty scolds Dante for missing her birthday party last year and cries tears of joy at the same time knowing he’s finally home, she’d visited DMC everyday to see if Dante had turned up and now she doesn’t have to wait anymore to see him again. After the scolding she gives him as tight of a hug as she can. Dante promises to make it up to her and reassures her he didn’t mean to neglect her on her birthday. Patty demands double the presents, and even though he doubts he can afford much he’ll try to find a way. He can’t say no to Pattycakes.

-Btw for those who don’t know the novel reveals Dante planned on seeing Patty after handling Urizen, he just didn’t want to go to the party itself because he feels uncomfortable and like a freak around “normal” (his words) people like Patty’s friends and thinks he’s dangerous to be around.

-Vergil is confused. Very confused. They act a lot like family. Could Dante have had a kid? He never said anything about that.

-Nope. They’re just really tightly knit found family.

-Patty eventually starts roasting Dante like usual, mainly for how he smells horrible and his hair is a mess. She demands that he showers right now.

-Vergil decides he likes Patty already and teams up with her to roast his brother and tells him “Do what she says, Dante. You wouldn’t want to make her upset.” In the most smug way fucking possible.

-Dante wanted to go back to the shop right away considering he’d been gone for so long, but again, he really can’t say no to Patty.

-They return to DMC after that. Nero is there and he’s silently shocked for a moment when the twins walk through the door, in the middle of an argument about something really stupid. Probably about pizza toppings. Nothing really serious just normal sibling banter.

-“GUYS! GUYS! GUYS! Can we please talk?!”

-Dante, realizing Nero is there, is giddy to see his nephew. However… Nero gives him a swift uppercut to the jaw.

-This leads to Nero dragging Dante somewhere they can talk alone. He demands an explanation as to why Dante never told him about anything.

-This will be difficult, but Dante knows he needs to explain stuff to him. It’s only fair. He has a right to know.

-He doesn’t open up about his trauma that lead to all this, that’d be out of character. But he does explain to Nero the best he can that the Sparda family has a long, bloody and traumatic history and he thought if Nero got involved he’d get hurt and he didn’t want the only family he had left to get hurt, or ruin the happy life he was living with Kyrie.

-He expects another punch from Nero, he thinks he deserves it, but instead Nero crushes him with a hug.

-“Never fucking do that again, idiot. From now on we’re family, you got it? No more secrets.”

-Dante nearly cries as he says “You have my word, kid.” in the goofiest, most overjoyed way possible. Also he’s kinda nervous about it at first because he’s not used to receiving affection anymore but he hugs Nero back.

-Vergil on the other hand? Having a… relationship with him is gonna be difficult as hell. It’ll take a while before Vergil and Nero are comfortable around each other. Kyrie and Dante play a big role in helping the two, though Vergil was a lot more reluctant at first to accept his little bro’s help.

-Also Vergil lives with Dante and let’s just say the business is a lot better with him around. They still bicker a lot but it’s out of love because what siblings don’t annoy each other?

Will Nero ever learn about the Sparda family’s history in better detail? I have a lot of thoughts about that, as well as possible plot points in a DMC 6 type scenario but I just wanted this post to be about the immediate return from hell.

Edit: Wanted to mention I also have thoughts about Nero’s side of things while the twins were in hell about what he was doing and how he was feeling and all that stuff but this post is mainly about this twins.

[mariyekos]

I like to imagine Dante's able to use some basic magic beyond just typical demonic stuff. In the opening of DMC1, a magic circle appears below Trish when Dante shoots the motorcycle back at her, so I like to think Dante knows some basic spells, wards, and the like. For the most part he uses it for little things like making a special lock for his Devil Arm vault, maybe heating up soup or a drink that's gone cold, and so on, rather than any combat things. Dante's spells are not at all refined and he doesn't have a natural talent for it, per se, but he has a lot of power he can put into things so he often ends up brute forcing whatever it is. It's not necessarily efficient, but it works, and that's all he cares about. He's not really interested in most precise or specific things.

Vergil on the other hand has a lot more control and a much greater interest in magic in general. A post DMC5 Vergil (and pre DMC3) would use magic a lot more often, and without as much prep. He spent a lot of time learning different charms etc. to use in daily life, and he's a lot more elegant about it. Some he learned when on the run and trying to hide from demons, while others he learned when trying to track down Sparda, and others still he learned for purely convenience reasons. Post DMC5 he gets a lot more into it than he did pre DMC3 when it was more a thing of survival, even if it had the convenience aspect back then too. He's the kind of person who would learn spells for the sake of knowing them, and while he prefers using demonic abilities in combat, he might try to learn a magical combat spell or two just to see what it's like. He mostly sticks to practical things though (which sit on the border of practicality, but he considers them practical, uses them often, and makes Dante's magic look like child's play).

On the magical third (regrown!) hand, Nero's absolutely horrible at magic, to the point of not being able to do basically anything. He's got the magical reserves, but unlike Vergil who can cast precise spells with relatively little effort, or Dante who gets through spells by basically overloading them until they work, Nero just can't get magic to work for him at all. Lessons with Vergil end with him stomping out when he gets fed up with Vergil commenting on how easy it should be, while attempts to get Dante to explain how he casts magic end in frustration when Dante's explanations basically start and end at "I dunno, it, it just works." Sure Nero can memorize and draw a warding sigil perfectly, but any and all attempts to get it to actually do anything end in failure.

Kyrie, in a reveal that surprises everyone, most of all herself, is apparently extremely talented at magic, which she does not know until she sees Nero trying and failing to activate a warding sigil Vergil taught him, puts a finger on it so she can trace over it as she reviews Nero's work in case he messed something up, and inadvertently activates it. After that they end up doing some testing and discover Kyrie is a natural when it comes to magic. The only problem is that while casting spells, activating sigils, and the like come easily to her, her magical reserves are rather small, limiting what she's able to do. When she first activates the sigil Nero had drawn, she ends up unable to get up and Nero has to carry her to bed (which she insists he doesn't have to do, because she just needs a minute to catch her breath, but he insists on)

Nico is stoked to hear about this and ends up figuring out a way to essentially fit Kyrie and Nero with a magic converter that allows Kyrie to draw on the magical reserves Nero can't utilize so that she can use them for whatever she wants to. While Kyrie isn't someone who really cares to use magic for things in her daily life like Dante and Vergil, she does use it to make little charms for the kids, and to establish wards around the house to protect them from demon attacks and other small misfortunes. She and Vergil end up bonding a little bit as he teaches her the spells and other bits of magic Nero was never able to pick up on.

(Vergil himself feels a mixture of pride at how quickly she picks up on things with his instruction, and jealousy when he sees how good she is at things first or second try when he knows it took him a good five or ten attempts to get it down when he was first learning. Kyrie notices and tells him that he's still much better than her in the long run since he's able to use magic without needing a separate "battery" to power him, but Nero absolutely digs into Vergil about it when Kyrie isn't there. Dante meanwhile finds it all hilarious. But he and Nero are pretty proud of Kyrie too.)

[phonkscribes]

Hello! If you're still taking requests, do you think you can write the Sparda guys with a chubby s/o?

I can certainly write this dear Anon.

The More to Love The Dante, Vergil, & Nero with a chubby S/O.

Dante

He likes to eat a lot, in fact, eating whole pizzas by himself is something that he does regularly, much to everyone else's dislike. He's glad he has someone to try out different things with, like if there's a new pizza combo he can get at his favorite spot, he'll want to share it with them if he doesn't inhale it all himself. He wants them to eat unabashedly just as he does, and will always make sure that they're taken care of. One thing that Dante wouldn't want is for them to hold back out of fear of their weight turning him away when that wouldn't be the case at all. He loves that they're a little husky, leaving more for him to hug and hold when he has the time to between jobs and such. Dante likes the way they squirm in his hands when he massages or pinches their belly or the fat on the sides of their hips. God, it's so cute... he could just eat them up.

The cambion likes to tease and poke their chub when he can, doing it in passing when walking by or trying to get their attention.

"Hey cupcake, whatcha up to? Aww, is somebody mad?", he'll reach up to pinch their cheeks next, chuckling as they pout at him.

He loves to tease, it's just who he is, but if it ever bugs or rubs his honey the wrong way he'll knock it off. Holding his hands up in his defense to go "Alright, alright" in a dismissive tone, even if he does well to not push them any further. If they ever want to lose weight, he'll be a bit sad, but will support his partner however he can.

Vergil

He's not well acquainted with others who are shaped like them, and he doesn't really mind that his S/O is chubby. He just thinks that his partner being softer than what he's used to is intriguing. They're body just has extra nutrients stored within it for later use, if anything that's smart. He isn't a big eater, not like his brother, so when he has a little more on his plate than what he can finish he hands it off to them. He likes watching them eat, and he likes to provide them with the things that they like to eat even more. Watching them light up when he hands them the plate fills his heart with mirth, a certain satisfaction that he didn't think he could feel. He takes it as an opportunity to see what they like and what they dislike, making note of their comfort foods and etc.

He also finds them pleasant to embrace, liking to lay over them and to rest his head on their chest. The added warmth is nice, especially since he tends to run cold. The son of Sparda enjoys to cuddle with his S/O and will pointedly glare at anyone that tries to get him up from his lover's arms. It's even more foolish to try to insult them for their body. If he was hostile while laying with them, he will lash out in his own way against someone that tries to frame their plumpness as being a bad thing. Vergil won't tolerate it, not one bit.

Nero

The devil hunter's favorite thing to do is to hug his S/O from behind, wrapping his arms around their trunk and pulling them towards himself. He likes to feel the way they laugh in his hold and how they move and try to escape his little kisses. He won't admit it, but he likes the way they feel in his grasp. Their pudge is soft against his toned arms from the training to follow in his uncle's footsteps, and he's happy to see them so full of life. Nero might poke fun of his S/O here and there, but it's nothing serious. He'd prefer them to have a little meat on their bones anyhow or not worry about how much they eat. He finds it endearing and a little fun to watch how well they enjoy the foods that Kyrie makes when he visits her or happens to make a pit stop at a restaurant with them.

He's super observant of their diet and makes sure to have a snack or two on hand in case they get hungry or peckish. Nero looks out for his S/O and makes sure that they're healthy and taken care of above all else. If anyone says anything to them, he's the first to step up and get in their face.

"What'd you say to them? Come on, why don't you say that again?", he'd growl. Draping an arm around their shoulder while telling the jackass to flock off if they know what's good for 'em.

He'll be damned if there's anyone who tries to make them feel bad about their size or weight. As someone who also struggled with his own image, he gets it and knows what it's like to be afraid or worry about how others might perceive them. Regardless, Nero assures them that he'll love them no matter what.

[monoclesnapple]

Intermediate Shenanigans

Bungo Stray Dogs Chuuya Nakahara & Gender Neutral Reader + Osamu Dazai & Reader + Odasaku X Reader Summary: Headcanons about taking care of middle schooler Dazai and Chuuya and dating Oda Beginning Note: Shoutout to all the class clowns/funny people, they're great inspiration for scenarios. @kiwibeanv helped with the stories of said funnies. Word Count: 2629 (Fluff/Crack)

First off, you're their parent figure and they live with you. All comfy with you and they trust you a lot. Now to move on to their stupidity.

Immaturity at its finest.

It’s constant arguing, pointing fingers, and the like.

They’re always fighting for your attention, pushing against each other so your hand can pet them.

You’re sitting on the couch, watching TV, when Dazai runs into the living room and jumps to the spot next to you. Since you’re leaning against the armrest, there’s only one seat next to you.

Dazai pushes himself under your arm and hugs your waist as he sighs contentedly. You idly rub his arm for a few minutes before Chuuya comes in with an annoyed expression.

“Oi, StinkZai, do your history homework before you go do whatever.”

Dazai whined and buried himself deeper into your side. “I’ll do it later! I’m tired right now.” He closed his eyes.

“Dazai, you need to do your assignments before you eventually forget and never get them done,” you told him. He let out a groan at that, “Why can’t Chuuya do it? Isn’t he supposed to listen to me since I’m smarter?”

“You’re not smarter than me! Even a shrimp can do better than you!” Chuuya sped to the two of you and pulled on Dazai until the latter fell to the floor.

“Ow!- That’s my spot!” The brunette rubbed his arm. Chuuya had stolen his spot in your arms now and smirked at the other.

“Maybe you should’ve done your homework first, you idiot!” He blew a raspberry and rested his head on your shoulder.

You sighed, “If you two continue to fight, I’m simply going to go to my room and relax without either of you.”

They both froze and looked at you then at each other. Despite their inability to cooperate without trouble, they agreed on the fact that your presence was probably the most important thing they want. They begrudgingly decided to keep quiet, moving so Chuuya can sit on one of your knees while Dazai reclaimed his initial place.

Eventually, they get their emo phases. One day, Dazai just randomly started wearing bandages over his eye, saying that he looks better.

“Why are you wasting bandages?” “Because I look so cool and a lot of girls come up to me and say I look nice! I know that so many people have a crush on me, especially when I’m like this!” “Just wait til they find out that this stupid mackerel is actually a bad person and a major turn off!” “Chuuya, don’t say that, please.”

And Chuuya had a Sonic phase. He thought the hedgehog was so cool, he wanted to be like him in as many ways he can.

He then found out about Conker’s Bad Fur Day and asked you if he could get it. You thought it’d be a wholesome game for kids, but when you looked at the plot and ratings, you didn’t buy it for him. He was sad, but got over it.

And then he came across Devil May Cry and decided to watch the gameplay and cutscenes because you might not buy it for him (you may consider, but it still has some scenes that you’re skeptical about.)

Nero from DMC4 is so cool despite the excessive “Kyrie!” throughout the game, Chuuya wants to dress like him. And dye his hair white.

Every time he loves a character, he wants to dye his hair their own hair color, but you never let him because why should he ruin his lovely hair? (He may or may not ask to dye his hair just so you can compliment him.)

Hot Topic is their favorite store because it has so many aesthetics and they love the style of the apparel.

They start simping for characters and reading fanfics. You know what they’re reading because they use the family/shared device and don’t delete the history. Why are there so many lemons? What do they mean? (Unless you’re a fanfic reader yourself)

They kinda know what sex is, they have a faint idea, but they’re probably wrong on a few things.

Hence, Dazai is excited for sex ed! Wooo! His head is smacked by Chuuya because the latter is embarrassed that he just yelled that out and now kids are looking at them.

When they’re learning about it, Dazai’s snickering at the pictures. But not the childbirth, what the actual fuck did they just watch? 

Oh boy, now they’re the cringe and immature kids who laugh at everything that can vaguely be related to sex.

Anyways, now to the scenario that was the whole reason for this

You were sitting on the couch, Dazai and Chuuya on the floor and you’re petting their heads. You check your phone, keeping a hand on Chuuya’s head and caressing it. He’s smiling with his eyes closed in bliss. Oh, how he loves this affection.

Until Dazai pushes and climbs on him to be the receiver of your pets. He smiles innocently when you glance over, but smirks at Chuuya, who shoves him as well and takes his spot back.

This continues to go on and you’re about to say something, but then the door is unlocked and opened. Dazai excitedly turns to see Oda coming in. He runs over and hugs the man while Chuuya sets himself in your lap.

After greeting Dazai, Oda is carrying him and walks to you and Chuuya, pressing a kiss to your head and ruffling Chuuya’s hair.    

You're in a relationship with Oda, and Dazai loves it.

His two favorite people together, who he might call his parents? How blessed he is!

He doesn’t know who he prefers, so the two of you are equal in his eyes. But when it comes to physical affection, he might go to Oda since Chuuya’s all over you and Dazai’s too tired to do anything. Also, he doesn’t see Oda as often as he does you.

Chuuya thinks Oda is great, but he’s not as close to him as Dazai is. If he had to choose between you or Oda, he’d honestly choose you.

Oda loves coming home to find you three waiting for him on the couch. It warms his heart that he is wanted and loved.

Either he comes home to you all cooking dinner, sleeping in a pile on the floor, playing games (board games or video) , or watching TV.

He still takes care of his adopted children at the curry shop, but he also enjoys the company of Dazai and Chuuya

Sometimes, he would bring those five kids to your house so they can play with Dazai and Chuuya. Everyone has fun, it’s like a party. (Sneaking kisses in the kitchen as everyone else plays video games on the TV)

Oda is a gentleman, whenever you two go out, he always opens the door for you, pulls out your seat, and kisses your hand when you both meet and bid goodbye to each other.

If Dazai ever sees you and Oda share a kiss, he’s cheering in his mind. Whereas Chuuya just brushes it off with an unnoticeable upwards twitch of his lips and an eye roll.

Once, you spotted Oda talking to Dazai outside under the moonlight. You knew the former was telling the teen about the right thing to do. Dazai had expressed his want of being involved in some well known group.

He hinted a little about maybe being a detective or even following Oda’s footsteps of going to the mafia. You really didn’t want him to go with the second option, but at least he’d have Oda to guide him if he’s even alive at that time

Thus, he’s told to prioritize other people’s happiness over his own. It’s tough, but it’s for the better of everyone.

He also says the same to Chuuya, but he goes into more detail with Dazai. You mainly handle Chuu with the lectures since he’s more likely to take your words to heart.

Chuuya has great friends in school, they seem like a lovely bunch, and you trust them. You’ve met them before and they were very nice.

Dazai doesn’t have as many, but you can tell he’s not really clicking with them like Chuuya is with his own. When his mood seems to lower, you go to him when he’s alone and you two cuddle. You can faintly pick up the sound of sniffles and feel your clothing moisten. After the session, you two don’t mention it because you know Dazai doesn’t want to remember that.

With any trauma, you take them to therapy. If it’s affecting either kid negatively, they need to talk about it. Initially, they talk to you, but they go see a professional if that doesn’t work.

Academically, the two of them are good. Dazai’s grades are always A’s even if he procrastinates or doesn’t seem to get his work done.

Chuuya usually gets B’s, but his PE is the best with an A+. He signs up for any sports the school offers if he’s interested.

Dazai’s lowest grade is PE, around a C because he’s not athletic like Chuuya.

Both Dazai and Chuuya have the same PE class and teacher, but their participation and effort are the opposite.

“Okay, everyone needs to do fifteen seconds of push-ups and fifteen sit-ups, let’s go! Get started!” The teacher instructed. They were walking around their class in the gym, ensuring everyone was doing what they were told.

They noticed a student lying face down next to the wall and when they walked by, they pointed at him and asked, “Who is that?”

Chuuya heard their inquiry and answered, “Dazai.”

The teacher was silent for a second before focusing back on the other students, “Let’s go! You should be on the next exercise now!”

Whenever there’s a fundraiser, they’re begging you to please donate so they can get a prize.

“Pleeeaaassseee? You can get a refrigerator stuffed with $200! Or even an iPad!” Dazai’s giving you the puppy eye(s) [depends if he’s bandaged his eye or not] and Chuuya is hugging you and kissing your cheek. “We love you so much, can you pretty please with a cherry on top donate? We’ll pay you back!” (They don’t make money, nor do they have an allowance.)

When it comes to projects, Dazai always waits until the last minute.

“Hey, can we go to the store and buy supplies? I have a project.” He whispered to you.

“Huh...?” You were woken up by him at whatever the time was, so you rubbed your eyes and sat up. Oda was still asleep beside you, a peaceful expression on his face. You kept your voice to not disturb him, “What?” When you checked the time, it was 2 am.

“I need some things for my science project,” Dazai was just standing by your bed, with big eyes, looking as though he had thrown up.

“When’s it due?”

“Tomorrow.” You frowned at that.

“Sorry bud, can’t help you. It’s too late, why aren’t you in bed?”

“I had to work on my project and other assignments,” he shifted in his spot and awkwardly averted his eyes. “I only need two things, glitter markers and a poster board.”

You stared at him tiredly, before sighing. “What happened to the ones I bought at the beginning of school?”

“I lost them.”

You blinked, unmoving. “And you can’t borrow Chuuya’s?”

He shook his head, saying they weren’t what he needed. At last, you moved the covers off your body and made your way to the closet. “Fine, go get ready. You should be thankful I’m even entertaining this idea.”

Dazai silently cheered and sped to his room. Why were you so lenient with these children? They’re gonna be spoiled.

His project was claiming that potatoes can power up devices. As stupid as it sounds, he somehow makes it convincing until it’s actually tested and obviously it doesn’t work. But he still gets a passing grade for the effort.

During one of their classes, Chuuya asked to go to the bathroom and ten minutes later when the teacher was about to ask about his location, he comes back with a lunch tray.

“Where’d you get that?” “I look like a sixth grader.”

He just munched away as everyone stared at him confused before they got back to the lesson.

Another time, the teacher left the room for a few minutes. Since Dazai wondered what their coffee tasted like, he waltzed over to the desk and took a sip and immediately spat it out.

“Ugh! It tastes like shit!” When the teacher came back, the whole class silently agreed to stay quiet and not tell on him.

When it was around Halloween and everyone could wear a costume, Dazai wore a squirrel suit. He brought an acorn prop and clipped it to the front of his pants. When walking up to the stage for the best costume contest, he hit the acorn with his legs, playing with it, until it accidently hit his balls and he crouched to the floor in pain. Of course, the guys winced at it, but it was pretty funny. Someone, Chuuya probably, yelled out, “He busted a nut!”

More nonsense, pantsing sometimes occurred. And Chuuya was the unfortunate target for Dazai. He had snuck up behind the former, and yanked down his pants. Regrettably, Dazai’s fingers also caught onto the waistband of the undergarments and when it came down, he got a face full of balls.

He was so traumatized despite being the one to commit the act.

Food fights can also happen. While Chuuya was peacefully eating his lunch, Dazai threw a tomato slice at him and the fruit made a satisfying splat! on Chuuya’s cheek.

He also tried to throw cheese, but he missed and it landed in the hair of someone who was just walking by. (And somehow did not get in trouble).

For presentations, Chuuya had to do an audio recording, and Dazai just sneezed at the beginning of it, He recorded another but when uploading the audio files, he accidently clicked the sneeze one. Presentation day was funny, but Chuuya didn’t necessarily like it.

If they had online school, Chuuya would be talking to the camera before a ball smacks his face. He falls out of frame, and Dazai is just seen running in the background.

There are also interviews or random school news done by the student council. They hate having to work with Dazai and Chuuya together because they always argue. The one time the video went right was when Chuuya had a voice crack.

Rallies also happen, and students would have to cheer as loud as they can for their team. Chuuya and Dazai are the loudest, but they also suffer from voice cracks. After the rally, they lose their voice for about a day.

Rocketry is an elective, and there’s a weird Russian kid named Fyodor. Both the boys don’t really like him. Since he’s associated with rats (Kids call him Rat, and one person did see him surrounded by rats in an alleyway as though they were dependent on him), they wanted to get a rat plushie. They asked you if you could get them the plush. You decided to buy it for them, not knowing why they actually wanted it.

They taped it to a rocket they made for the elective, put more power into it, and they launched it into the air. When it blasted off, they looked at Fyodor with threatening stares.

Occasionally, you and Oda would volunteer to help with some school activities. The first time both of you arrived, so many students had a crush on either of you. They’d go to Chuuya/Dazai and whisper “That’s your parent?”

Oda’s a dilf and you’re also a milf/dilf.

What a happy family you lot are.

[too-antigonish]

The Classical Music of Ride, Part I: Mozart’s Requiem

You can’t trust anything or anyone in Ride. People aren’t who they seem to be. Every action, every event is just a cover for something else.

Is Morse one of the idle rich? An Oxford drop-out? A taxi-driver's son from Lincolnshire? A man who’s just finished a prison sentence? A policeman?

Long post....

Is Bixby the filthy rich head of a gambling empire? Is he just a front for Harry Rose’s criminal empire? Is he Charlie Greel looking to win back Cathy or Joss Bixby looking to seduce Kay? Is he even himself or is he his hidden, evil twin Conrad?

Are the denizens of Lake Silence really Morse’s friends—sheltering him after the storm of Blenheim Vale and prison? Or are they a bunch of dysfunctional philanderers and addicts? Even worse, are they suspects? Criminals?

Using Mozart’s Requiem in this episode must have absolutely delighted the music staff because while a great part of its fame and mystique rests on the sheer accumulation of stories and legends that have grown up around it, almost none of those tales can be proven—and all of them have been challenged at some point. You really don't know what's real and what's not—right down to the music itself.

Was the anonymous “stranger cloaked in gray” who gave him the commission the only sponsor Mozart ever saw? Or did he  at some point become aware  that the Count, Franz von Walsegg, was paying for the work? Some people today are shocked to hear that Walsegg planned to pass off the Requiem as his own work—as a tribute composed in memory of his dead wife—but that was a fairly common practice for the aristocracy of the time. It was considered slightly shady, but the proper thing to do was to just politely nod and go along with it.

Did Mozart, his mind disturbed by illness in his final days, truly come to believe that he had been poisoned and that he was writing the requiem mass for his own funeral? Or was that tantalizingly dramatic detail added by his widow Constanze to drive up sales of the score after the his death? The couple was catastrophically bad at managing money and when her husband died, the widowed Constanze was left with massive debts and two small children. She needed to maximize any possible source of revenue. 

Her story certainly captured the public imagination. Pushkin took that little tidbit about writing his own funeral mass and wrote a very short but thought-provoking  play in which he cast Mozart’s contemporary Salieri as the envious poisoner and Mozart himself as a childish, spoiled, and petty genius. Peter Shaffer later adapted Pushkin’s work into the play, and later film, Amadeus. A surprising number of people today believe Amadeus to be not the work of imaginative fiction that it is, but rather a completely factual story of Mozart’s life and death.

Mozart worked on the Requiem up to the day he died at the age of only 35. It was the last piece he worked on. Most scholars believe the manuscript we have contains not only the last music he ever composed but possibly the last words he ever wrote.

As far as authorship is concerned, we know for certain that Mozart himself completed “in skeleton” the Introit, the Kyrie, and almost all of the Sequentia (Dies irae, Tuba mirum, Rex tremendae, Recordare, Confutatis). The last portion of the Sequentia, the Lacrimosa, was completed was the up through the first 8 bars.

The last words that he actually wrote were "Quam olim da capo” — which instructed the musicians to repeat the "Quam olim" fugue of the Domine Jesu from the beginning. In yet another mysterious twist to the story of the Requiem, these actual last words were stolen—quite literally by tearing them from the manuscript—while the score was displayed at the 1958 World’s Fair in Brussels. They are still missing.

We are certain about the authorship of parts because we have the autograph manuscripts—the music in Mozart’s very own hand. The big question, however, has always been, how much the the rest of the Requiem can we consider his? The parts that were completed “in skeleton” basically had all of the “important” notes in place. Things missing include details like doubled parts that could fairly easily be extrapolated from what he had written. 

In order for Constanze to receive her money from Walsegg, however, she needed to make it appear that Mozart had completed the work entirely or almost entirely himself before his death. Not only would this ensure full payment from Walsegg, it would also promote sales of the score to the public later. A work written by Mozart alone would far out-sell a work written by Mozart and “Mr. Competent-But-Lesser-Known-Composer.”

Today we know that at least two of Mozart’s students were involved in finishing the piece, with the majority of the work being done by Franz Süssmayr. What we don’t know, however, is how much of the completed work is purely theirs and how much came from Mozart’s notes and verbal instructions.

Some versions of the story indicate that Mozart gave detailed deathbed instructions and left many “little scraps” of paper with details of how to complete the composition. Other versions claim that this talk of “little scraps” is simply more of Constanze’s effort to maximize Mozart’s contributions and minimize those of others.

Regardless, we know that the completed Requiem was eventually sent (with Mozart’s counterfeited signature!) to Count Walsegg and dated 1792—which is rather odd in retrospect given that it was well-known that Mozart had died on 5 December 1791. It's always been yet another mystery.

The two excerpts used in Ride are the Lacrimosa, during the opening titles and establishing scenes, and the Confutatis, which Morse is listening to on his record player as he splits wood outside the lakeside dacha.

The Latin text of the first reads:

Lacrimosa dies illa, Qua resurget ex favílla Iudicandus homo reus: Huic ergo parce, Deus:

The equivalent translation (i.e. not the one used at mass, but a more literal translation) is: 

Tearful [will be] that day, on which from the glowing embers will arise the guilty man who is to be judged: Then spare him, O God.

So Ride starts with tears and guilt.

I’ve always found it interesting that this text doesn’t even try to claim innocence, instead it very clearly asks that the guilty be shown mercy. 

The Latin text of the second reads:

Confutatis maledictis, Flammis acribus addictis, Voca me cum benedictis.

The equivalent translation is: 

Once the cursed have been silenced, sentenced to acrid flames, Call me, with the blessed.

This text always strikes me as coming almost from a child’s point of view. Basically one interpretation is, “Come and get me once you’ve taken care of all the bad guys.” I'll leave you to draw your own conclusions as to how that might apply to Morse post-Blenheim Vale and prison.

Next week: The Classical Music of Ride, Part II: Rigoletto or “Why keeping a person’s entire existence a secret leads to Bad Things.”

Special Bonus Section!!!

Parts of Mozart’s Requiem used in Endeavour: 

Dies irae: completed by Mozart in skeleton* S4E4: Harvest (~2 min) (~3 min)

Rex tremendae: completed by Mozart in skeleton* S9E3: Exeunt(~1 h 11 min)(~1 h 11 min)

Confutatis: completed by Mozart in skeleton* S3E1: Ride (~5 min)

Lacrimosa: completed by Mozart in skeleton* through measure no. 8 S2E3: Sway (~0 min)(~1 hr 24 min); S3:E1 Ride (~1 min)

Lux aeterna: Not in Mozart’s MS; however Süssmayr reuses the Requiem aeternam written by Mozart almost note-for-note with just the different text S9E3: Exeunt (~31 min)

*skeleton: means full vocal and continuo parts, notes for prominent orchestral parts and musical bridges

[minticecodes]

[ID: Two versions of an illustration of Kyrie as a child, asleep, brows furrowed, yet smiling. In the first is a birds' eye view of her in a nightgown, curled atop a blue bed with dark iron headboards. Her clasped hands are pressed to her forehead, prayerlike. Her thumb's bleeding, and blood stains the blanket and a glinting, jewel studded Umbran watch beside her. She's lit in a soft red. Instead of a floor is a harshly edited maelstrom of noisy reds and blacks, speckled with teal. The title 'RED WITCH BLACK ANGEL' strikes across the image in white. The second image is a recolour of the first, in softer blues. The background is a photo of foamy waves in a blue sea. Kyrie's shaded in cool blue, and white light rims her features and dress. End ID.]

'Red witch black angel' by Pinkmiracle is a stupidly fun read. Kyrie becomes a novice Umbra witch and forms a contract with a demon knight as a kid. No one has any idea what they're doing.

[that-gay-guy-from-hell]

No One Else Can Have You: Nero x Male Reader

MINORS DNI; THIS IS FOR ADULTS ONLY

SERIOUSLY, GO AWAY!

SUMMARY:      Jealousy is rather familiar to Nero. The burning glare he gives to anyone whom Nero deems is being “much too friendly with you” is that of a seething devil. However, upon seeing you with someone that he cannot treat with such malice, the white-haired man takes a much different approach to proving how far he’ll go for you.

BEGINNING NOTES: Power Bottom Jealous Pre-4 Nero x Submissive Top Male Reader The reader is in (The) Order’s choir alongside Kyrie Nero has his devil bringer Close to just mindless smut Nipple play; Nero receiving Semi-aggressive foreplay--skipped oral aspect of foreplay (sorry lmao) ⚡❄️⚡ ➟Not sure if it’s talked about (or seen) in DMC 4 but I imagine (The) Order to have a living space akin to a boarding school mixed with a monastery--but with swords! (Haven’t played 4 yet and I’ve only skimmed the cutscenes because for some reason it’s like hard for me to get through idk why) ➟Kyrie is a bit handsy with the reader; she knows about the two of you and is doing it to tease Nero (Kyrie seems innocent and oblivious but she’s very aware; opposite Nero who seems like he isn’t and is). ➟I do tone down how “edgy” Nero is compared to how he is in 4. Hopefully, he’s not too OOC. ➟For anyone who has a hard time remembering: Nero’s devil bringer is his RIGHT arm (I kept having to re-look at him to remember which side lol). ➟This is very VERY shortly before DMC 4; like I’m talking a month or two. Yes, before someone decides to throw a fit, I h/c Nero to be around the age of 19 when DMC 4 takes place--born 22nd September 1999. He is NOT underage.

===

     Winter had just hit Fortuna and there was a light layer of snow on the ground, steadily growing from the continuous flurries. Amidst the sea of white, two people could be seen walking side-by-side. Kyrie and you were returning after chamber choir rehearsal, mindlessly chatting about the newest material you’d been given. 

     The ginger smiled, grabbing your forearm gently, “Come on, please?”

     You rolled your eyes, “No way,” a small laugh left your frozen lips, “I’m not duet partner material.”

     Her smile widened and she rolled her eyes slightly, hand sliding down to yours, “Oh please, I wouldn’t have anyone else.”

     “I’m flattered, really,” your gaze flicked down to your intertwined hands, a small confused furrow adorning your brow, “but there’s a lot of other members who would go better with you.”

     “Maybe, but I don’t want to work with them; I want to be with you.”

     The two of you stopped outside of a hall’s entrance, still holding hands, “I…” you gave a flat smile and shook your head, sighing in defeat, “I’ll look at the piece, alright?” Her eyes held an excited glint as she grabbed your other hand, pulling the pair up with an enthused stranglehold, “Don’t take this as me agreeing; I just want to see what it is first.”

     Before she could respond, the door swung open, revealing two familiar faces; Credo and Nero. She addressed them both, talking with her brother, while her hold on your hands only tightened. As the conversation drew on, you weren’t listening, being too busy debating if your fingers were dislocated or not. 

     “Is he alright?” Credo raised a brow, staring at you.

     Kyrie’s attention returned to you and, upon seeing how your fingers were losing circulation, she let go of your hands.

     Immediately you shook your fingers and pursed your lips, holding back some painful exclamations--knowing that Credo would string you up by your earlobes and beat you like a piñata. Once more, you didn’t really pay much attention to the conversation but, when you looked back at everyone, Kyrie had entered the hall and was walking alongside her older brother, waving goodbye. 

     Leaving you and Nero alone.

     The young man moved his jaw in thought before using his human hand to grab one of yours, quickly re-cutting the feeling to your appendages. Although you weren’t sure what was going on, you could tell Nero was mad--no, he was pissed. He was practically dragging you behind him, not saying a word. You tried to keep up with his pace but were unable to and kept falling behind. 

     “Nero, what-!” While attempting to catch up, you slipped on some of the newly formed ice and fell.

     The white-haired man’s shoulder and arm were jerked downwards with you, which helped break your fall. However, you still hit the ground while Nero remained on his feet, just off balance. Wincing quietly, you stood up and he grabbed you around the waist, still not talking. He hoisted you into his arms and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, confused as to what was going on. 

     Given, you did have a slight clue from past experiences. 

     The moment Nero stepped into his room, he threw you onto the bed, locked the door, and began to strip. You mimicked his actions, tossing your clothes into a pile on the other side of the room, until you were in your underwear--matching Nero’s look. 

     Admittedly, you still got an overwhelming nervousness when you saw his exposed skin. It was as beautiful as it was arousing. To see how flushed his pale skin became from the cold outdoors, the tasteful amounts of silvery body hair that led down to-

     Abruptly, Nero shoved you backward onto the mattress and straddled your middle. Typically, he tends to have a fun amount of force to his actions but today was different. Each one of Nero’s actions so far had been nearly contentious, giving you cause for concern. Perhaps he had a rough day with Credo and the others? Before you could question things too much, a desperate set of chapped lips met yours. 

     The white-haired young man pushed himself against you, his calves compressing your sides tight enough to leave bruises. His hands gripped the sides of your neck, forefinger, and thumb lining the hinge of your jaw on each side. Your hands grasped his thighs harshly, groping the muscles with fingertips just underneath the ends of his boxer briefs. 

     He slipped his tongue into your mouth. Slowly, his thumbs rubbed your cheeks and Nero took his time exploring. It was his first time doing something more than pecks and soft-biting lips, and it excited him. A small moan left your mouth at the feeling, in turn, Nero’s legs constricted further around you. 

     While exchanging wet French kisses, the white-haired man slid his hips back, his ass straddling your growing erection. Your hands slid to his back, running your hands along his shoulder blades. His hands drifted as well, one going up to the top of your head and the other to your side. Breaking off the heated exchange left both of you breathing heavily and with a hot overwhelming lust.

     Using the hand upon your head, he tilted you so he could have access to the crook of your shoulder and, without warning, bit down. 

     Hard.

     You arched against him, nails cutting into his skin, and let out a loud exclamation of a moan. 

     Against the new loving mark, he grumbled through gritted teeth, “Shut it.”

     Even though it sounded rude, you knew he was right. If the two of you got caught, who knows what would happen? Not only is it against the rules to have any sort of intercourse before marriage, but it is also taboo for men to share such delights. Plus, it was a sort of game between you two; who would break first and allow themselves to get loud--nine times out of ten it was Nero.

     Attempting to silence yourself, you bit your lip as Nero went back to working an even darker mark into your soft flesh. You worked your hands down his middle then back up, feeling him up slowly and meticulously. Despite seeing him nude many times, in both sexual and non-sexual ways, you still got an intense nervous sexual joy out of groping his body. Whether it was the heat, idea, or the actual texture, you weren’t sure; all you knew was that you wanted to touch him more. 

     Once your hands were on his chest, you squeezed his pecs before pinching at his nipples.

     “Fuck,” a grunt left his lips as he released his bite.

     Nero leaned up, allowing you more access to his chest, which you happily took advantage of. After a minute of debate--while you continued to futz with his tits--you leaned forwards, joining him in a seated position. Cautiously, you placed several kisses on his shoulders and collarbones. Your hands rested at the small of his back and you titled him away from you. Then, with the same vigor and force as he had against you, you bit down on his chest. 

     A stifled loud whine came from Nero’s nose as he used his devil bringer to cover his mouth, holding onto your back with his other hand. Encouraged by his noises, you bit down on a nipple and tugged slightly. Through his fingers, you heard him let out a muffled--but still loud, “Goddamnit,” he stared at the ceiling as he arched himself into you.

     It felt good-- really good. Nero hadn’t ever touched his chest while getting off before and he was starting to regret it. Feeling you let go, he adjusted himself so you had the other side in front of you. You raised a brow at him looking at him from the tops of your eyes.

     “Again--harder,” Nero’s face was bright red as he did his best to play confident, despite feeling weird for asking. 

     However, a sly smile from you and your compliance quickly washed those thoughts away. Nero placed his devil bringer against your back as well, holding you close to him. Against your gut, you could feel his cock twitching at your motions. With each tug and bite, each time you switched sides or bit down on his muscle instead; you felt him grind against you. 

     Nero wanted you. 

     You wanted Nero.

     It was as simple as that.

     Letting go for the final time, you coaxed him down into a kiss. It was intense, purposeful; Nero wanted to get across exactly what he intended to do with you. You bit at his lips lightly sucking and pulling on his bottom lip, making him let out a shaky breathy moan. 

     Nero leaned forward and whispered in your ear, “I need you,” he ran his tongue along the shell of your ear, “Right now,” with a loving forcefulness, he grabbed the lobe of your ear with a canine and pulled--puncturing your flesh slightly.

     “You sure-” 

     He cut you off with a kiss, hands grasping and kneading your sides. 

     Quietly, you mumbled against his lips, hand wandering all over his lower back, “Lube?”

     “Yeah,” Nero got up and walked over to a corner of his room, pulling up the floorboard that covered his hidden stash of “contraband” items.

     When he went to turn around, however, he was pinned against you; his back to your front. Placing kisses against the nape of his neck, you ran your hands down his stomach and his happy trail. Teasingly, you ran your fingers around everywhere beside his cock. You found his squirming to be amusing while it only frustrated the pent-up man. 

     The way your dick was placed against his ass, the light ghosting of your touch, hot exhales against the small love bites you were making; it all combined into a mixed drink that was making his head all fuzzy. 

     And Nero hates feeling fuzzy.

     Being the way that he is, he was easily able to overpower your grasp and pivoted to face you. Using his devil bringer, he slowly prompted you to back up to the bed and he picked you up, tossing you again. Then he grabbed your underwear, yanking them off--removing his right after.

     Once again, you found yourself pinned underneath Nero. Although he was staring down at you with piercing sea-green eyes, you couldn’t help but look at his dick which was proudly on display. Pre-cum was dribbling down his shaft and was dripping onto yours, which wasn’t fairing much better. With a slight raise to his brows, he smirked and opened the bottle, lubing two fingers. 

     “Two right away?” Your hands wandered to his thighs, thumbing over them softly.

     “Yeah, jackass,” Nero grunted, hunching forward with a slight shiver, “I said what I meant.”

     After squirting some lube into your hand, you leisurely moved to his dick, “And what would that be, sugar?” A smirk tugged at your lips at his reaction to the feeling of you frotting your cocks together, “What? Cat got your tongue?”

     Through breathy heavy exhales, he growled lightly, “Fuck- you-!”

     Smile widening, you ran a thumb between his tip and yours, “If that’s what you want-”

     “Shut-- up.”

     Staring him in the eyes, you brought your thumb to your lips and stuck it in your mouth cleaning it before humming in thought, “Mmn,” you reached up and tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear, “I love when you get all feisty,” with a hand on his neck, you met halfway to share a heated sloppy kiss.

     Grabbing the lube again, Nero slicked his finger again, adding a third, then, he tossed the bottle in a random direction, leaving it to deal with later. 

     His original plan was to have you stretch him as he sucked you off, however, he decided against it at the last minute. Although he would never admit it, he was beyond nervous. This wasn’t his first time playing with his ass, sure; but, it was his first time going this far with you. As he fingered himself, he found his mind wandering in a panic. 

     What if he messes things up? 

     What if you don’t like how he feels? 

     What if--

     “Nero?” You put a hand under his chin, a concerned furrow on your brow, “You sure you want to do this? If you aren’t ready-”

     “No!” He snapped, quickly adding, “I can do this,” then, for the first time since entering his room, he spoke in a softer tone, “I want to try with you,” he removed his fingers and looked down for a moment, embarrassed, “please.”

     Giving him a nod, you kissed the corner of his mouth, “I’ll take your lead.”

     “Damn right, you will.”

     You laughed at his return to a cocky attitude. 

     Watching intently, you watched him sit up on his knees, attempting to position himself correctly. Helping him by positioning yourself manually, you nodded at him, telling him he could sit back down. 

     A loud noise somewhere between a gasp, moan, shout, and grunt left his lips. His hands balled up into fists, nails picturing his palms. Tip inside and his mind much too worried, he tensed up at the foreign object.

     “Nero,” you hissed, “You need to relax, otherwise this won’t--” you grimaced slightly, “won’t work.”

     After a moment, you vetoed him and picked Nero up off of your hips. 

     “No-” He frowned and glared, “I can do this.”

     “Nero-”

     “No, don’t “Nero” me,” he was angry at, what he thought was, you calling him weak. Being the cocky assertive man he is, Nero spread his ass and re-penetrated his hole. 

     A small groan left your lips, however, that quickly turned louder as you watched Nero sink rapidly onto your cock. 

     Thunderous whiny moans left Nero’s lips as he stared upwards, feeling how your dick was stretching him. It was much different than the small toys he had hidden away. The heat of your body was enough in and of itself to make Nero’s body quiver. 

     Bit by bit, he fully relaxed. Admittedly, he could’ve cum just from this act alone but he wanted to do some actual fucking first before releasing. His eyes met with yours and, in response, you thrust your hips upward slightly. 

     “Ngh- What,” he leaned forwards, bracing himself with his hands on your chest, “Fuck...”

     Taking that as an okay, you repeated the action, gripping each side of his hips. A moan left your lips as you felt his body giving way to you, allowing you to see a little bit of his submissive side for the first time. Low groans left his lips between uneven breaths at each one of your upward movements. Wanting to up the ante, you picked his hips up and pulled them down to meet your upward motions. 

     “What are you-- try-- trying to--”

     His thoughts were a mess. He wanted to act tough, to resist how good you were making him feel, and to act as if he weren’t impressed but he couldn’t. With each thrust and slight increase of force, it only made him melt further. 

     The white-haired man leaned back, arching his upper body outwards, and slammed his hips down into yours, “Fuck.”

     “Nero, that--” You groaned and matched his fervor, “keep doing that.”

     “Tch, sure,” he meant to sound rude but just came off as compliant.

     With each slap of your skin against his, Nero felt an odd fiery feeling bubble inside him. It wasn’t the same feeling as when he was close--this was something new entirely. He felt like he wanted to crawl out of his skin with how good he felt.

     As his speed surpassed yours, he looked down at you and stopped which caused you to meet his gaze, “Sit up.”

     Doing as he asked, you found yourself face to face with his chest again. Although he didn’t ask, you bit down on his nipple as you returned to slamming against him. He wrapped himself around you, arms cradling your head into him. As he bounced against you, he felt his cock rub against your gut which caused him to speed up even further. 

     However, you weren’t one to be outdone. Without warning, you released your bite and stood up. 

     “Shit, what are you-! Ah~!” Nero wrapped his legs around your hips.

     You moved to the nearest wall--which happened to be right by the door to his room--and slammed his back against it. 

     “I…” With a breathy huff, you nuzzled your face into his neck, staying there, “I am…”

     “Fuckin’,” Nero wasn’t fairing any better, “Cum inside me.”

     “Huh-! Ner-”

     “Did- I- stutter?” He leaned forward and bit down on the shoulder before him.

     Not wanting to waste any time, you sped up and hit your top speed. With a few more uneven jabs, you spilled yourself inside him. 

     “Nero~!” You hissed at the feeling of his ass tightening and the warm feeling of his cum spraying against your stomach. 

     “Shit yeah,” he leaned back and let out a bellowing moan, “Fuck that’s good.”

     Carefully, you made your way back to the bed and laid him down, removing yourself. A shiver ran up Nero’s spine at the feeling, his body unsure of how to react. You grabbed a nearby towel from the floor--hopefully, it wasn’t too dirty--and wiped Nero off, then yourself. 

     “Hey,” Nero propped himself up on his elbows, “I…” he stopped, biting his tongue, “Nevermind.”

     Sweetly, you leaned over to his forehead and placed a kiss, “I love you, Nero,” you smiled, pulling back to see his semi-flustered wide-eyed stare, “Is that what this was all about? Wanting to hear me say that?”

     “I…” he pursed his lips and nodded shamefully, “Seeing you and…” he shook his head, “Just bothered me.”

     You swept his hair out of his eyes, cupping his face between your hands, staring him dead on, “I love you, so very much. My sweet cranky edge lord.”

     “Pfft,” he turned to one of your hands, closing his eyes for a moment, then spoke softly, “I love you, too; dickhead.”

     “Mn, ‘dickhead’, huh?” 

     “I’m sorry,” his tone returned to normal, “do you prefer ‘asshole’?”

     With a click of your tongue, you shook your head, leaning back with hands on your hips, “Well if you’re gonna be like that then I am not going to invite you to take a bath together.”

     A small light lit up in his head at your words, “Oh? As if I’d let you do that without me.”

     “What?” You raised your brows in a mixture of disbelief and sarcasm, “You’re already hankering for another round?”

     His eyes slowly went down and back up your body, “Yeah, but,” he stood up and yanked you close, whispering in your ear, “Why don’t you let me show you what I can do,” he nipped at your neck, “I want to fuckin’ tear you apart.”

===

ENDING NOTES: The Nero brain rot has been super SUPER bad and I'm not sure why lmao Couldn’t call him a “hunter” in this since he’s not a part of the DMC crew and couldn’t call him “(the) teal devil” because he hasn’t triggered before, so sorry if things get a bit repetitive. Yes, the paragraph that ends with “He felt like he wanted to crawl out of his skin with how good he felt.” has to do with him having the urge to trigger--even though he doesn’t know he can do that yet. ❄️⚡❄️ First time writing a top reader and bottom character; hopefully it’s not too bad. Ngl power bottom Nero has been eating at my mind for a while now and I’m not sure why. It might be TMI but I am not a top (or a switch) myself so writing the reader as a top is weird lmao (which is also why the reader is submissive, can’t change everything in one fic; can I? lmfao) The point is: that this isn't going to be something that becomes like commonplace (unless a request asks for it--which are still closed as of posting this chapter) and is just something I did for fun lol

==

If you like this please consider checking this on my AO3. There are extra chapters and my H/Cs over there, so please consider checking them out! Comments, Likes/Kudos, and shares are always appreciated! Thanks so much for reading!! :)))

MASTER LIST FOR TUMBLR

[lemonnsss]

Moral of the Story: Chapter 7

Warnings: None, I think... (slight coercion?? maybe??)

MotS Masterlist

Taglist: @vicmc624 , @mostlymarvelgirl , @yvonneeeee, @beetlejuicesupremacy , @moonlightreader649 , @whattheduckisupkyle , @chrisevans-realwife, @nekoannie-chan , @mrsbarnes32557038 , @imyourbratzdoll , @weallhaveadestiny

Word Count: 1.1k

“My name is Director Nick Fury of S.H.I.E.L.D. a secret division of the U.S. government. And around this time last year, someone hacked our system. The only person with the capability to do that is Mr. Stark here. There were a few search queries we were able to recover. They were all related to superhuman abilities that can heal or transfer physical harm. Around then, the ‘X-Men' vigilante team started slowing down, switching out their strongest members with a noticeable lack of two of their constants, Cyclops and Lifemender.” Director Fury remained still, arms crossed.

Crap. He knows everything, down to the name I was given, “I-I’m sorry, I don't believe I follow.”

“You are Lifemender, Mx.-”

“Kyrie. Call me Kyrie. Just, please, stop butchering my last name.”

“My apologies, Mx. Kyrie.” His voice rang with sarcasm, intentional or not. He walked about a third of the distance between where he stood initially and where I stood while extending his arm gesturing to me, “We at S.H.I.E.L.D. need your, unique abilities. We recently found an operative who has been missing for quite some time. We recovered him about a month ago, but he’s still unconscious. That is where you come to play.” 

“Let me guess, you want me to what- make him conscious?”

“Basically.”

“I can’t do that.”

“I’m sorry, this isn’t a request.”

“No. As in I physically cannot bring him back into consciousness. I can heal physical injuries and illnesses, but what you’re asking of me isn’t something my powers can do.”

“Well, if that’s all you came to ask- leave.” Tony piped up, moving from behind his desk to his mini bar, drink in hand.

“Unfortunately, due to your past helping a vigilante organization I’m afraid it’s between this and prison.” Tony choked on his drink, “You don’t need to wake up the agent. All you have to do is one- sign an NDA and two- show up and do what you can. If things don’t work out the way the science geeks want I won’t hold you accountable but your participation is required.”

“Okay.” I breathed heavily, fidgeting with my hands, “If this doesn't work none of the fire will be blown back my way?”

“Everyone involved has already signed an NDA regarding what happens while on site. I know what happened in Milan, if someone has loose lips they will be taken care of. You will be as safe as I can promise.” I was trembling, on one hand, this could lead to another purge of mutants, I could be tested on again, or maybe I could just go to prison, “I know damn well your shoes are not that interesting.”

“The last time I was involved with the U.S. Government I was tested on and treated with less dignity than a sewer rat. How am I supposed to know that it won’t happen again? That all of this isn’t just an elaborate path to resume your testing?”

“I’m sorry, testing-” Tony tried to speak.

“Trask, his associates, and all personnel who supported Trask’s actions have been terminated and replaced.”

I couldn't help but chuckle, he must be used to having the information that when there’s a gap he doesn’t even know to fill, “I’m aware. Are you aware that I’m twenty-six?”

Silence filled the room, I couldn’t tell if the director was trying to piece together this puzzle or do the mental math.

“Can someone explain what is happening?” Tony spoke, finally getting a full sentence, “Trask was a businessman in the late sixties-early seventies before he was found selling national secrets to foreign offices. What does he have to do with- well, whatever this is?”

Fury and I both shifted to face Tony, “Mr. Stark, that is the public reason for his removal and imprisonment. Not to say they were false accusations, but he was far more involved with the Government than most know. Bolivar Trask was conducting highly-illegal experiments for the U.S., of which all subjects were of the genetic group known as ‘mutants’. He was ousted after a mutant saved the president’s life.”

“Okay, but then Kyrie was born a decade and a half after Trask got-“

“I understand that. But if it wasn’t Trask then who”

“Does it matter now?”

“It does, but not as much as getting you to the triskelion.”

“Then let’s go.”

After spending the rest of the day packing, then on a five-hour flight, topped with a thirty-minute drive, I stood in front of a behemoth of a building. Three concrete columns, joined together by a central cylinder in what must look like a radiation symbol from above.

The three of us, and the redoubtable presence of the two men’s security teams. As we crossed the bridge over the river leading into the facility the Director spoke, “This is the triskelion. You’ll be working in one of the secure underground levels. If that's alright?”

“I’ll be fine, I think. Probably…”

Tony practically huffed behind me, followed by a noticeable uptick in his pace to walk in front of the director and me, “Well then, if you’re fine with it, I’d like to hurry this along. I will need my secretary for a fair bit of work.”

“Calm your shit, Stark. My business with Mx. Eirsson.”

 “Then let’s get this over with.” I walked past Tony and towards the lobby.

From even a few yards off I could see the inside of the building, the first visible story was somewhere between millennial gray and beige, but as soon as the front doors I saw the second story was painted black with natural wood accents- the opposite wall an off-white painted brick- sleek and withdrawn.

After all my ogling Tony nudged me with his shoe to let me know I was falling behind. I followed him and the director towards an elevator that, apparently, had a keycard reader. The heavy metal doors opened with pristine smoothness Tony and the director stepped in after a moment I stepped into the elevator with them, two MIB-looking men stepping in with us, and watched the director as he pressed the button labeled B3.

The descent was silk-smooth, the stop slight and subtle before the doors opened into a sterile, metal corridor. Director Fury walked through the twists and turns of the passage with efficiency- I struggled to keep up with him, almost hitting a few corners along the way- before he opened a door and motioned for me.

I walked through the doorframe into a flat, white room. There was a medical bed in the middle of the room, surrounded by hospital machines, occupied by an almost-too-tall blonde man I recognized from Logan's lectures.

"Director?"

"Yes? Is there a problem?"

I turned to face him, "You never said my 'patient' was Steve Rogers, Captain Rogers, Captain America..."

[whumpdreaming]

Crownchain - Character Intros

Hi! This is the introduction to the characters of my new series! Here's a little about the setting itself: it's not quite medieval-era, but not quite modern either, and obviously knights and nobility are the main focus. The system of knighthood works in a way very inspired by BBU; knights are typically taken at a young age (usually from poor/orphaned circumstances, becoming wards of the state essentially) and forced to go through very intense training (at a place called the Academy) that involves not just combat, but also promoting absolute loyalty to their charges.

Said charges are usually members of the nobility, those important/rich enough to warrant having a bodyguard or even multiple. Knights are legally considered property, not people, and belong to whoever they're supposed to be protecting, meaning there are zero legal repercussions for mistreating your knights. In fact, such a thing is highly normalized, and knights are taught to expect mistreatment in whatever form.

Some nobles like to decorate or embellish their knight's armor, often changing their appearance to match the noble's own, such as matching colors or jewelry. Duels are common and function more like underground cage fights, with a variety of types (the most common being "until incapacitation"). Knights are held to an extremely high standard and are expected to continue in their duties even when sick or injured, and it's commonly expected to punish them if they're not performing well enough.

It's called "crownchain" because typically, armor is designed with a ring around the gorget (the neck piece of the armor) or generally around that area. Often, it's used by itself to pull a knight around, or a leash of some sort is attached; this is called the crownchain (i.e., the person with the crown has chained them). If that makes sense and isn't stupid.

This world concept came about with help from @bamber344 and @seastarblue :) I plan to fill out more details about the world itself as I go, but here's the main cast:

picrew link

Kyrie, she/her, a young trans woman and knight, who's been "retrained" a few times now due to poor performance and is now in the ownership of Lady Avaline. She's good at what she does, but also happens to be extremely socially awkward and shy. Wouldn't know how to ask for help even if she realized that's an option. Very much a wet cat. This picrew is missing her brands (two below her right eye, signifying her status as a knight and then her ownership to Avaline's house) but otherwise is pretty accurate. She's also built like one of those shotput athletes because I love fat women.

Lady Avaline, she/her, a very outwardly carefree young noble eager to get her hands deep in court politics. Considered a veritable ray of sunshine by everyone she meets, but also well-known for her brutality and high standards. Uses Kyrie not just as a guard but also as a glorified handmaiden, and is eager to punish her for any and all mistakes. Frequently forces her to duel, but clearly must be doing something right because Kyrie is very successful, leading many others of the nobility to follow Avaline's example (unproportionally harsh punishments for mistakes; although not many seem to be as willing to do it so publicly.)

There's another character I have in mind named Juniper, but I'm not sure of her role yet. What I do know is that I'll be doing Hurtcember with these girlies, so watch out for that :)

As an aside, I'm very open to the idea of a shared-universe type deal where other people make their own stories in the setting if they so desire 🤔 Mostly I just want to gauge interest because it feels good when people are invested in my creations lol.

[stardustgalaxy]

Even more DMC headcanons~! Y’all seem to really like the ones with the reader/you involved so… why don’t we go more with that then?

(Just a whole bunch of nonsense thrown together, y’know?)

✨Let’s take a journey backwards into how Dante managed to ask you out in the most on brand way possible! He did and didn’t ask you out, but running on the assumption you’ve been friends/known each other for a while he’ll just kind of give you something expensive (let’s be honest, it’s a bracelet with a red gemstone embedded in it) and ask you this: “Can ya hang onto this?”

“Sure, but, why…?

“Isn’t it obvious? So I’m always able to find you, (Nickname)?”

✨Vergil, alas, is much less suave with his ways of asking you out, but the fact you managed to get past the icy shell of protection and get along with Dante, he’ll do something a little more romantic… by giving you a questionably expensive set of books to write in/a book has already been filled with his thoughts of you~! Man sucks with speaking, but writing is his expertise!

✨Nero, oh you sweet summer child, is the more bold of the trio! He’ll get cold feet, freak out about things going sideways, and then absolutely melt when you kiss him on the cheek when he hands you a bouquet of your favorite kind of flowers. And yes, there is indeed a single bright blue rose in there that he’ll carefully place in your hair~ Kyrie is 100% the one who suggested he do the bouquet with the rose.

✨Lady asking you out is by far the simplest of the entirety of the DMC crew, even Trish is surprised considering they both enjoy the more lavish (yet simple) sides of things. Lady is most likely the one to ask you out with you two on your classic lunch once a month, a tradition you started and she come to enjoy happening~ 100p extra if you turn the tables on her and ask her out instead, with a charming smile on your face and a quick peck on her lips!

✨It’s a wonder how Trish managed to find herself falling in love with someone, let alone you since you’re… well, you. She can’t describe it! But you’ve hung out together long enough, and if you’re a fellow hunter also slayed a few demons together, and so she figured she might as well ask you out on a date first! What she wasn’t prepared for was for you to show up looking nice with a single flower in your hand, gently placing said into the suit she decided to wear that day and saying such simple words. “You may not think much on it, but a woman as elegant and electrifying as you should wear this as well...”

✨Now for the ACTUAL headcanons:

💜Nero has a low resistance to spices, though it’s gotten better now that he moved out of Fortuna City

💜Dante, on the other hand, has a stupidly high resistance to spices and gets a little disappointed that the “spiciest thing around” is just a tickle on his tongue… have mercy upon his toilet

💜Vergil finds the concept of eating to be difficult, his sense are a bit skewed from his time split apart into two as well as time as Nelo Angelo, and thus he has the worlds slowest burning metabolism! He can go without eating a full meal for like… weeks. He will snack on small things like gummy bears and animal crackers, just so Dante and Nero get off his back about him skipping some sort of fuel. He’s gotten better at eating more consistently tho.

💜Lady has this ONE particular shade of lipstick she absolutely adores and was crushed when her favorite shop ran out of that shade, nearly punched a hole in Dante’s wall when it came to be discovered her favorite shade was discontinued due to unfortunate events… (demons)

💜Trish actually has a sour tooth! Contrary to what others may think, she prefers sour things over sweet, savory, and spicy! Go ahead, give her a sour patch kid or a warhead, she’ll snack on them all day if she could~!

💜Kyrie, believe it or not, has a secret love for some rock metal and it’s entirely Nico AND Dante’s fault! She also has a once a week little brunch hangout with Vergil to help him get more acclimated to “semi normal” life, as she is the only one who didn’t attempt to suffocate him in his sleep. (i.e gave him a scolding in a way that reminded him of Eva, so he felt comforted in a way because of it)

And that’s all the headcanons and I guess insert moments I got! Tune in next time for when I share these again… tho, I wonder if y’all would want me to make a separate lil blog for this

[onyxrosess]

Pain is My Hometown

vergil x reader [multi-chapter series]

Chapter I: Prisoner of Your Own Reflection

Chapter I [you're here!] | Chapter II | Chapter III | Chapter IV | Table of Contents writers notes: hello loves! for those who didn't find me on ao3, I'm posting my ongoing book/series here! Though for those who found me on ao3, this isn't a new chapter BUT chapter four is coming out very very soon!

・warnings/tags: mature topics, drinking, endless banter (it's dmc that's all they do)

( cross posted on ao3 )

“Nero! For fucks sake pick up your tools, I almost just died again because they're all over the floor!” The hot summer day did not help your crushing annoyance, bringing a hand to your ankle, nursing the soon-to-be bruise. Hoping the children were outside as you didn’t think yelling would be a fond childhood memory. Hindsight is 20/20, what do you do anyway? 

“If you put on your glasses you wouldn’t trip over them!” Nero shouted back, seemingly in the kitchen inside the house. A frustrated grunt left your mouth, removing your helmet, little hairs sticking against your sweaty forehead. The motorcycle stood parked on the concrete, and the culprit of your trip was stuck under the tire of your bike. Stupid socket wrench, why was it on the ground anyway? Whatever, maybe Nero will stub his toe on it and see how he likes it. 

“I don’t know how Kyrie has put up with your displacement of practically everything you own.” Your eyes floated over to the bedside light on the kitchen counter. “This is my house you’re crashing by the way so I don’t see how you have any say in it.” Nero defended himself as his hands poked and prodded at the lamp, from the looks of it he was attempting to fix it. Keyword; attempt. 

“Smart ass.” Turning on your heel she left him to “fix” the lamp. Making it to your room rather; Nero and Kyrie’s guest room you’ve been hoarding, your steps became heavier the closer you got to your bed. Dragging your feet you plopped down onto the bed with a grunt you’d likely hear from an elderly person. 

Too hot. Way too hot. Peeling off the protective gear for your bike- why can’t you just regenerate limbs like Nero could instead of having to be careful with this thick-ass clothing that supposedly protected you? It, unfortunately, did do its job, just way too warm. A plug-in fan panned around the span of the room, clicking every so often, the cool air was lovely. A shower is what was needed, immediately.

After confirming with Kyrie she didn’t need the bathroom for one of the children, or herself, you have since put the metaphorical flag on top of the hill proclaiming this was your bathroom for the next hour and a half. Leaning forward into the mirror above the sink, your hands instinctively drove to your face, squeezing and picking anything you could see on your face. 

Stepping foot into the bathtub-shower combo, the cold water hit your body, not without a shiver of course. Even if you felt like you were on fire and how tingly your hands felt, damn them. Music playing from the radio was atrocious, only two of the songs were halfway decent on this channel. Your actual nice CD player had fallen into the tub a week prior, which was unfortunate because she couldn’t even be mad since one of the kids thought it was a bathtime toy. You really did need to put things up higher.

After a record time of only 47 minutes in the shower, you stepped onto a towel laid on the floor, soaking up the droplets from your hair and body. Wrapping a towel with stains from previous hair dye adventures around your body. The mirror’s reflection was obscured by the condensation, you wiped it down with the end bit of the towel. Your hair was a disheveled mess, combing through the strands, it somehow dripped with more water. 

“(Name)! Dantes calling for you!” Kyrie shouted from downstairs. Dante…Nero’s uncle- got to admit their family situation was odd. Though not far from your own. You scurried down the stairs with messy wet hair and clothes that were barely put on correctly. You held the cold piece of plastic to your ear, “Hello?”  “Hey, you wanna go out for drinks tonight? I thought it would be a change of pace.” Dante’s dancing around the subject and your history of going out to bars, especially on your birthday, was admirable. And the delicacy of the topic was appreciated.  “Will Lady and Trish be coming?” You asked, leaning against the kitchen counter, tapping your fingers. “You think they’d let you go to a bar with just me?” Dante’s smile was apparent when he was talking, almost to a chuckle. You just let out an amused huff. “I guess I could’ve answered that question myself.”

“Where are we going anyway?” “A new bar opened up recently— Trish and Lady seemed to enjoy it so, whatever they say.” You hummed in agreement.  “I’ll see you at 9 then.” Dante agreed and hung up. Quickly rushing back upstairs to finish drying your hair, hopefully, you didn’t drip water all over the kitchen tile like a wet dog.

The sun was still visible, illuminating the sky with its brightness and awful heat. You walked out from ‘your’ room, where Kyrie was cleaning dishes with her cute little apron on, how domestic. Nico, who was originally the one who was the oddball staying in Nero and Kyrie’s house has since been promoted to slightly less odd since you’ve crashed their house. Nico opened the door to the garage, walking inside with grease covering her hands and some spots scattered around her arms and face.

“Who’s got you all dressed up?” Nico gave her a sly smirk, wiggling her eyebrows as obnoxiously as it sounds. “Well first off, I’m barely dressed up, and secondly just Dante, Lady, and Trish.” Nico let out a huff, hoping for something new, not Dante . Officially stamped the worst flirt signed by Nicoletta Goldstein.  “Fine, at least Lady and Trish know how to have actual fun.” Nico walked to the kitchen sink, luckily it was big enough for both her and Kyrie. “Do you wanna tag along?”  “Shit!- I mean” She realized how loud she cursed, “I got work to do on the stupid van, Nero did somethin’ to it. He just doesn’t know how to speak mechanic like I do.” Nico dried her hands on a towel on the counter. Kyrie just chuckled at her comment, Nero did have a history of being a cheap mechanic. He knew the basics but you would never let him touch your bike. Not since you made that mistake the first time. “Enjoy yourself, (Name), call me or Nero if you need anything.” Kyrie looked over her shoulder as she scrubbed plates. That woman was sent from heaven, you were fully convinced. “I’ll be alright Kyrie, thanks though.”

Stepping into the garage the socket wrench has since migrated from under your bike, Nero definitely stubbed his toe on it. You chuckled to yourself as you put on your helmet, you were not above being safe, but you were going out, and the shop wasn’t too far from here so your protective- hot ass gear can stay. 

The sun wasn’t quite setting but the sky was still vibrant,  driving a little above the speed limit when driving through the streets. Subtly tapping your foot to the beat of the music drumming in your ears. Weaving through familiar streets, you turned down the alleyway behind Devil May Cry. You kicked her bike stand down, making sure the thing didn’t fall- your precious child. Luckily you didn’t get sweaty on the ride over so your hair was mostly intact. 

Walking through the back door, to hear Dante and Lady playfully bickering, as always. Trish leaned against the counter of the kitchen, “Look who made it!” Trish announced to Lady and Dante who were up front. Trish greeted you with a hug and Lady also followed suit. Dante just slapped you a little too hard on the shoulder, he has to know he’s strong, and that sometimes leaves a mark. “I’m surprised I didn’t get a message saying I’m in bed, maybe another time.” Dante interjected, “That’s only happened a few times okay?” You just rolled your eyes. “Cut her some slack Dante, you’re a party animal, and she actually ages unlike you. At least in a meaningful way.” Lady defended you. Dante just held up his hands in surrender. You weren’t that old you just got into your 30’s… 5 years ago. God Lady’s right.

“Mid-life crisis aside, let’s go drink, shall we?” Trish urged as she started walking out the front door. The rest tagged along quickly, and you trailed behind. And this bar that was “close to the shop” was like 4-5 blocks down the street. Of course, the demon hunters had no problem walking a ways but you were quite frankly out of shape, nowhere near as strong as you used to be. Walking up to a storefront with a flickering neon sign that said “Eddy’s Bar” with a logo next to it. 

Upon entering the building, many voices began to jumble together into one noisy building, masking the music that you could barely hear even if you tried. Dante of course b-lined it for the bar, Lady and Trish ventured off into the crowd, for some reason, they usually get drinks first. You just shrugged mentally. Dante sat down at the bar stool, man spreading per usual, his gloved hands resting on the countertop. Why he barely changes his attire besides his shirt and pants- which all looked the same to you- still puzzles you a tiny bit. You joined Dante, sitting next to him on the neighboring stool, he motioned for the bartender. 

“What could I do for you two?” The bartender questioned, preemptively going for an empty glass. “Brandy Alexander,” Dante answered, panning over to you.  “And for the lady?” The bartender looked at you- the lady? You suppose Dante and you look like a couple right now, gross. You shook it off with a slight tug at your lips. “Midori Sour, please.” Fidgeting with your hands, the bartender nodded, within a minute he handed you and Dante your drinks and wandered off.  “The lady , huh?” Dante smirked, smug bastard. “Yeah, the lady apparently.” You just shook your head, putting your glass to your lips.  “Where did Lady and Trish go?” You tried searching for them with your eyes, or if you could hear one of them.  “I dunno, maybe they were looking for fun.” Dante mimicked you, sipping from his glass. “Us four were supposed to go out, not just me and you.” You sighed, holding your drink in your hands which sat on the counter.  “Wowww, I’m hurt.” Dante dramatically faked his ‘hurt’. “Well I get to talk to the girls about girl things, you wouldn’t get it.” Still trying to locate the two women, it’s not like they were too short that they sunk into the crowd. 

Dante clutched his heart, again, what a drama queen. You would’ve thought he was a theater kid if you didn’t know any better.  “Nothing against you Dante- but I would much rather save my dignity than talk to you about girl things.”  “Oh, you have dignity left?” Dante’s face had a sly smile plastered on his face. Reminded of an unpleasant memory of your past adventures with Dante going out to bars. Never again, even if the memory was just fragmented because you were so so so drunk. “I was more drunk than I had ever been in my entire life- my drink at that point could’ve been laced with an aphrodisiac.”  Dante just chuckled, “Yeah whatever you say, with your dignity .” This smug little bastard, not a doubt he remembers the entire thing. Hell, he could probably drink an entire bottle of Everclear and only be tipsy. 

Through the crowd came Lady and Trish, Lady was practically dragging Trish. Their faces said it all. “(Name)! There is a smoking hot guy over there, like seriously, even for your standards.” Lady exclaimed, very proudly. She and Trish had been almost searching for men for you, since your last outing with a man ended up with trauma and far more physical scars that reminded you. But now is not the time to be drowning in that side of your past.

“I need more alcohol to speak to any man right now.” You sighed, still having your current drink in your grasp. “I guess that's better than nothing.” Trish sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. Dante ordered a round of shots, vodka, of course. You lift the shot glass to your lips and the liquid burns as it goes down your throat. You definitely made a face. Squeezing your eyes shut and opening them back again, you realize the half-devils barely even feel alcohol like a human does. Ugh, whatever, more for you. 

Trish and Lady drag you out to the floor of the bar, slipping through the crowds of dancing people, trying not to bump into too many people without a ‘sorry’. “You look so stiff, just relax (Name). You have the best demon hunter and best man-eater here protecting you, all three of us will kill anyone who tries to do anything to you. You have my word.” Lady spoke over the music, trying to soothe your bubbling nerves. You just nodded as she let go of your hand, like sending off your child to college. Taking a step backward, your back collided with something, namely, someone. You turned around immediately to apologize for your clumsiness, even though that's the name of the game in this mess of a bar which at this point, it seemed more like a mosh pit.

The man you bumped into was a little taller than yourself, he just smiled. “No problem.” He went and walked off somewhere else. You cursed at yourself, that would’ve been a smooth way into a: “You wanna dance with me because I’m lonely”. Sighing you retreated closer to the edges of the crowd, you need another shot. Dante still perched on the seat you left him in. Weird, he’s usually quite the party animal, always has been, according to Lady.

You approached the corner of the bartop that you and Date were sitting at earlier, leaning against the counter, “I need another shot.” You said with a small exhale.  “The smokin’ hot guy is too much for you? You seemed to handle me quite well that one time.” Dante is too good at this, if you were in your 20s again, Dante’s clumsy attempts at flirting would definitely be working. “That one time was strictly one time.” You quickly ordered another shot from the bartender, Dante called one for himself as well.  “And yes, the ‘smoking hot guy’ was too much for me to handle with just one shot in me.”

Dante barely gave a response before tapping the shot glass on the table twice with you before the two of you downed the rough liquor in unison. You shook your head slightly, whispering a curse. It had definitely been a while since you drank. “I’ll scream if I need your assistance, Dante.” With that, you bid him farewell and wiggled your way through the crowd at the center of the bar. You had seemed to lose Lady and Trish at the moment, in your haste, your shoulder collided with another. You turned to face the person and attempted to apologize and continue your search for the man from earlier.

“You keep bumpin’ into me like that, it's gonna make me think you’re into me.” The voice came from next to you, and your body froze. Well, you found him. That was your opening— for fucks sake live a little, trying to push yourself. “Maybe I do.” You just smiled, yup the alcohol was hitting a little. The man looked quite frankly handsome under this lighting, the occasional flashing lights of random colors and the haze that clouded your better judgment. “Stay for a little, if you’ll indulge me.” His words were sickly sweet like honey. But the fog in your brain melted, and now like a spider claiming its prize, he wrapped a gentle hand around your waist. Closing the gap between you two, and now you were smelling him, a sweet smell of dark chocolate and fresh rainfall swept into your senses. How a man can be so bold and yet so sweet was an experience you’ve yet to have up until this moment.

And how the night went on, with risqué moves rather than dancing. And without a doubt, a couple more shots. His hands wherever they migrated to, it was a ghost of a touch, it was gentle, surprisingly so. He pulled you away from the crowd, with a hand around your wrist, and occasionally glanced over his shoulder to check if you were still with him. You landed at the other side of the bar with him, thank god, far away from Dante, but you knew he could see you. Very clearly. 

“What kind of shots do you like?” The man- whom you didn’t get the chance to know the name of, quizzed you. “Vodka.” You answered plainly, a glaze over your eyes when you looked at him. He ordered another shot, he sat down on a stool. You sunk the familiar taste, yet the feeling was yet to fade. You hoped you didn’t scrunch your face too much, setting the glass down, he looked at you, not saying a word. At this height, you didn’t have to crane your neck to see his eyes were beautiful, a dark green, seeing the speckles of yellow across his iris. He stayed silent until you realized how awkward of a staring contest this was and turned away to meet the other side of the bar. 

A thumb and an index finger pulled your chin away from your musings. You were back at his eyes again, the glittering flower field on a spring day, yet the fierceness of a flowing river, the undercurrents sweeping you under into its grasp. A breath fanned over your lips. Now you were completely submerged. His lips were soft against yours, so soft, but pulling you closer, enough to keep you reaching for more. Your hand perched itself against his chest, the button-down he wore was opened slightly. The kiss continued, it barely felt like you had to do anything as your hand moved slightly to connect with his bare skin. Your other hand played with the hem of your shirt, the only place to exile your excitement because going full throttle into this kiss didn’t seem like the appropriate move. 

You broke away from his mouth, finally getting your head above water. You could feel the heat in your cheeks and the racing of your heart, working unpaid overtime.  “I liked that.” Your words came out before you had a chance to proofread them. A smile formed on his lips, and slight stubble moved with the skin. “I liked that too.” Matching the simplicity and honesty of your words.  “I didn’t expect you to be so gentle.” You admitted, for why? You had no idea. “Why is that?” He asked you, if you were sober you wouldn’t have been so easily fooled by his question, which was obviously just to stroke his own ego. “I guess it’s the way you smell, and maybe the stubble.” Your hand reached out, connecting with the side of his cheek, the rough hair touching your palm. His expression morphed into a more surprised one, then softened again.  “I did ask, so I can’t be surprised with the results.” Your hand left his cheek, did you offend him? You certainly did not have that intention,  “I mean in like a good way- I noticed how you smelt when I got closer to you. It wasn’t anything bad, it was really great actual-“ Your sentence was quickly brought to a halt when his lips met yours again, but this time it was more like a raging river with the rain thundering down on top of the water. Both of his hands now pulled you closer, meeting your bodies. You stood between his legs as his hand covered your lower back, slipping under your shirt just the slightest bit. His teeth caught your lower lip, and your eyes fluttered open, to see him looking directly at you. The embarrassment was too much, you closed your eyes, letting your tongue invade his mouth. Thankfully it seemed to have been received well as you became dancing, metaphorically of course. His hands did not wonder, much to your disappointment since you were at the bartop. Oh my god, you were having a make-out session- at the counter of the bar, where people were sitting close to you. 

He separated from you- maybe he felt your face heat up like a tea kettle. He just looked at you and chuckled, before your embarrassment could not exceed its limit now you shoved your face into his chest and collar bones. A laugh that vibrated his chest escaped him. “What did you get so embarrassed over?” He asked as you made your retreat from the safety of his chest. “I-“ “I think I need another shot.” Was all you could mutter without your head spontaneously combusting.

So many rounds after another, really it was only a couple of rounds. You downed another shot, did you count how many? Nope, and did you care? Also no.  “It feels awkward now, but, what's your name?” You sheepishly asked, as you now sat at the bar stool next to him. “It’s Kane, and no it's not awkward.” He tapped a finger on the counter. You tested the name out on your lips; “Kane.” He responded with a hum. “How do you like it?” Kane asked. “It’s simple, and gentle, like you. I like it.” Your sentence was a little jumbled from your brain frankly being jumbled from the alcohol too.  “Do I have to ask the question now?” Kane chuckled as he spoke.  “What question?” You tilted your head- oh right. “What's your name?” Kane asked, not without a laugh. You smiled, jeez you were slow right now. “(Name).” You responded, more calmly than the racing thoughts of your mind.  “Then, (Name), would you mind exchanging phone numbers with me?” God, you felt like you were back in high school again asking your crush out for the spring dance. You nodded, “I didn’t think I’d be able to leave without it.” 

Kane reached for a napkin, and clumsily found a pen, with barely any ink left in it. You grabbed the pen, trying not to punch a hole through the papery fabric. You re-read the sequence of numbers to make sure it matches. “I have roommates— if you want to call them that, so they might answer instead.” Kane nodded. “One more drink?” You asked as he shoved the napkin into his back pocket. “I thought you’d never ask.” 

That one more drink pulled the two of you back into the pit of swarming people, it was all moving so fast, and now the two of you were actually dancing- well dancing as in; the clubbing type of way. His hands moved far more freely with the alcohol running through his veins. And you definitely moved more smoothly with the same alcohol. 

And now you were being pulled to the side again by Kane’s hand on your wrist. Peaking through the veil of the crowd, you saw Trish and Lady speaking to a couple of guys at a booth. Kane stood in front of the table, holding you like he had just caught you cheating on the chem test. “These are your friends right (Name).” He barely asked, less of a question more of a confirmation from Trish and Lady. He still had his wits about him, you however barely had anything intelligent left in you. Lady couldn't bear to hold in her laugh. The two men that were talking to them excused themselves, Trish whispered something to the man you didn't quite catch.  “I am far too gone myself to take her home, and the two of you look like a safer option.” Kane basically was asking them to take you home, he was leaving. “Yeah, she does look pretty fucked up.” Lady admitted, not without a ‘hey’ from yourself. “We’ll take her home,” Trish spoke up.  “Thank you.” Kane turned to you and let go of your wrist, “I’ll call you okay?” You just nodded as you leaned your weight against the table, Kane walked off and it felt like you’d never see him again- would he even call you- would he abandon you? Just like Treyvon did? Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes. Trish quickly stood next to you as you now shifted your weight onto her. Not without a quick sniffle of your nose, Dante wandered over and regrouped. “Yeah, she’s just gonna have to stay at the shop tonight.”

Thank you for reading! I hope you will stick around for my bullshit :) - onyxroses

Next Chapter

[awkwardgtace]

Meet the Parents

Finally have this done. This has been a hectic may and a hectic start to June. This wound up being a bit harder since I realized wow writing shitty parents when you have shitty parents can be hard. Also I had like 10 plot points I just couldn't fit into here. Pls enjoy

Melody and Caprice's parents decide to make a trip to visit them. It's the worst possible timing, plus they have to hide any sign of the merfolk. This will be fine though... right?

tw: shitty parents, slight emotional abuse, minor transphobia, minor acephobia... honestly just crappy parents, but they are the bad guys of this.

Meet the Parents

Kyrie and Melody were finally happy. Finally trusted each other. Finally at a place they could do something special. Something that only the two could do together. A trip across the oceans.

Everything was planned. The stops at ports. Places to stay that only took cash. Ways to hide her appearance. Each thing meticulous as she finally used saved up vacation time to take a whole month off. The one thing she didn’t plan, or rather that she couldn’t plan for, was an email from her parents. An email saying they planned to come visit.

One tiny little email changed everything. Suddenly her entire home was a problem. Caprice ran off to tell the others, Kyrie especially, while she got to work. Spell components that her brother brought in, bits of scales the two had grabbed, things from too deep in the water. All of it had to be hidden. An entire part of their life had to disappear.

Memories of times before she moved out here helped to keep her focused. The amount of control her parents demanded over her life after that night. The way her dad glared at her every time Caprice discussed his choice to be a mechanic. The drunken rants on nights he came home late. Blaming her for everything that had gone wrong in their lives. If only she’d listened…

“Mel!” Caprice pulled her from her thoughts. From bad memories. “Byss knows a cave he can hide our stuff in. Kyrie is moping down at the beach.”

“Right…” Melody muttered. Caprice walked up and put his hand on her shoulder.

“We can tell them not to come, you can still leave even.” Soft words. Just beneath them she could hear the pain he felt himself.

“No… No, I'm fine. I…”

“I’ll finish packing stuff and start giving it to Byss. Go see Kyrie, before he starts whining. It’s annoying when he does.”

Melody laughed as Caprice pulled the box she almost forgot about from her hands. A gentle shove got her feet moving. Caprice wasn’t as gentle as he dropped remnants of the merfolk into the box. It made this feel easier. Almost at the door, she paused. The blanket for the trip was left out… Melody grabbed it as she finally went outside.

The air smelled of rain. It reminded her of a time after just meeting Kyrie. When he couldn’t understand and she had a dream. In the back of her mind she worried the others didn’t understand. As if they wanted to hide the three from their human lives. It wasn’t like that, but how could they ever explain?

“Melody?” Byssal’s voice made her flinch. She turned around to find the green merman towering over her. This cliff felt so much taller before meeting him and Kyrie. She wanted to say something, but nothing felt right. How could she apologize for hiding them from humans? Humans that knew about sirens and would try to make her leave. That she could barely say no to when they did try to control her…

“Byss, put your hand here!” Cap’s voice pulled the stern gaze off her. Melody took it as her chance to run. Eventually they’d explain… maybe once their parents were gone.

Melody gasped once her feet hit the sand. She’d forgotten to put on shoes. As hard as it was to admit, she wasn’t ready for this. Her parents were a lot, even before her voice. The fights while they were kids. Arguments about her future, about Caprice’s future. Their parents did their best… that didn’t mean it was good.

A chirp brought out her smile. When she looked toward the sound an indescribable blue met her. Kyrie looked worried, almost scared. She could understand, his first family wasn’t great either. Kyrie chirped again, Melody nodded. 

He reached forward and wrapped his massive fingers around her. Gently, he pulled her closer to himself. She laughed as one of his fingers adjusted to act as a seat, keeping her feet just off the ground. He only stopped moving her when he could press his nose into her chest. Like this it was easy to consider what Cap said. Just leave, let him handle it. If it was their mom she would, but not their dad.

“Hey,” she whispered.

“Are you scared?” he asked. She started to pet his nose.

“No, why do you think that?”

A whine. “Caprice sounded scared.” The fingers grew tighter, his nose pressed a bit heavier against her.

“I guess… Yeah maybe a little. Of them finding out about you, Byss, and Pel. What would happen if they did…”

“I can-”

“You can do nothing. They won’t tell anyone… it’s not that I think they’d do anything…” She didn’t finish the thought. They wouldn’t do anything to him, but to her she knew they’d try. Caprice and Aria had to fight to get their parents to let her move here.

Kyrie whined against her. She could picture Caprice’s annoyed face. It made her chuckle. Melody shifted as best she could on his fingers to lay against his nose. Kyrie shifted himself closer to the water. Waves touched the tips of her toes.

“It’ll be fine, I’ll be fine,” she promised. “I’m sorry about our trip. Maybe I can extend my vacation.”

Kyrie whined again. “Not your fault.”

“I’m still sorry… I was kind of excited, even to be out in the water.”

Melody jumped when a loud purr erupted out of Kyrie. It made her laugh. He would be happy to hear that. She hadn’t been very willing to go out into the water since those mers tried to take her from him. There wasn’t any risk of something like that now. Honestly she was more scared of herself. Losing track of where she was, humming something where the water could carry her voice too far.

“Oh, before I forget,” Melody tapped his nose twice to make him back away. Smiling once his head was hovering over her. “I don’t know how long my parents will be here. So we can use this blanket I bought for the trip as a signal.”

Kyrie tilted his head. So much of how he acted seemed to bleed innocence. An opposite to her in more ways than she could count. An amazing thing. Melody slid off his fingers. As soon as she landed Kyrie’s face was as close to her as he could get. Far enough he could still see her. She unfolded the blanket and held a corner up in each hand.

“When it’s safe to come close I’ll come down to the beach, hold the blanket up like this, and shake it exactly three times,” Melody shook the blanket as she spoke. “You can see this from far enough away we can’t see you right?”

Kyrie leaned closer and took a deep breath. She knew he was taking her scent, it always made her shudder. She trusted him, but it wasn’t easy to push away every underlying nerve. Then he was gone. The warmth, the towering presence, as if he never existed. It wasn’t hard to guess what he was doing, so she shook the blanket every few seconds.

Water splashed her legs as a shadow covered her. Massive fingers, almost wider than she was tall, surrounded her. Melody lowered the blanket, smiling when she found Kyrie’s eyes above her. A smile of sharp teeth covered his face. Soon enough he nodded at her.

“I can see it. I can’t tell if it’s you until I’m here,” he said. She took to folding the blanket as he lowered his head again. “Is that ok?”

The tip of Kyrie’s nose was close. Melody leaned forward and kissed him. A new purr made her laugh again.

“That’s fine, I’ll hide this in the house so no one else can find it. We may not be able to do the trip we planned, but we’ll figure something out.”

Kyrie’s lips crashed into her. His palm behind her. A total force of nature focused solely on her. It was amazing. Melody kissed the part of his lip against her face. This was something her parents would see as dangerous. A risk that he’d kill her. She used to, before she knew the real Kyrie. The one that reminded her of a lost puppy sometimes. If only she could show that side to her parents…

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Caprice had his own panic as he emptied his room. If he wanted, he could leave. Never see their parents again. Sometimes they were fine, but after Melody’s voice… He didn’t want to see their reaction to him being a merman, let alone how much bigger he was as one.

It was almost easy to put each box in Byssal’s hand. So easy he was tempted to climb on and stay there the whole time. He didn’t want to deal with the judgment. Every choice he’d ever made under scrutiny. It would be worse if they decided to start bothering him about dating again. He had no interest, but that wasn’t enough for them. Melody was the only way he could handle them both together. At least it shouldn’t be too long… —----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After all the panic, their parents arrived without incident. Nothing to reveal the merfolk was discovered as they settled in. No awkward questions or the expected digs. All in all, less chaotic than Melody expected. Even a family dinner was moving calmly. She and Caprice cooked without their mother commenting on every move. The pressure of the visit hadn’t faded though.

“So… how have things been with you two living out here?” their mother, Rhapsody, asked.

“They’ve been fine,” Caprice answered.

“Good I’m glad to hear that!”

“No more incidents?” their father, Dearan, asked. Melody immediately deflated. He blamed her when her voice first started and blamed her when Caprice was being held by her former manager. 

“No. I still don’t go out much anyway so we can’t have any incidents,” she mumbled.

It got a nod. A silence that was painfully familiar settled over them again. All too common. Aria had a little of the siren’s song in her voice, but not enough to do more than bring attention. Caprice had none. Rhapsody had more than Aria. Her voice faded after Melody and Caprice were born apparently…

For a while the only noise was clacking of utensils against plates. Melody wanted to leave, go hide in her office. Pretend she had some work to do. Maybe start altering her plans for when she could actually go travel with Kyrie. She was so excited to go…

“Mel?” Caprice asked. She jumped. All eyes were focused on her, full of concern. She’d clearly missed something.

“Sorry, I’m a little worn out. Work’s been kind of rough lately,” she laughed.

“Good thing you took so much time off!” Rhapsody laughed.

Melody stiffened. She didn’t mention that to anyone. She forced a smile on her face and laughed along. Caprice had a glare on his face. He would have told her if he told them.

“Yeah, um when did I tell you about that?” she asked. Dearan cleared his throat.

“Your mother’s friend told us,” he said.

“That’s right I forgot to tell you,” Rhapsody smiled. “Anthony, you know his son Andrew? He started working for your company. He mentioned he was working under someone named Melody. I just knew it was you! I had him find out the last name and found out I was right.”

“I-I see. That makes sense. I completely forgot about Anthony.” Melody made a mental note to kill Andrew when her vacation was over. At least tell him not to spread when she was taking time off to his dad. “Well yeah. I’ve done a lot of late nights recently so I decided to take a while off.”

“Just like the rest of our family. Always going overboard. You aren’t doing too much are you?”

“No, mom. I’m fine. Just thought it was time to use up some of the time off I’ve been saving the last few years.”

“Speaking of time off,” Dearan cleared his throat, “have you made any choices about a new job… Caprice?”

“No, I'm still taking online classes.” Caprice was barely audible. Dearan put his elbows on the table and set his head on his laced fingers.

“Could have done that while working at that garage.”

“I didn’t want to.”

“You always take the easy way. Quit when things seem a little tough.”

“I needed a break after being kidnapped.”

That gave the room for another silence to settle over them. Long enough they finished eating. Melody cleared the table with Caprice’s help. He bumped her shoulder, silent reassurance things would be fine. It wasn’t fine though. There was a reason behind this visit. One she couldn’t figure out. Their parents didn’t do things like this without reason.

“Melody, why don’t you make some coffee and tea and we can keep talking in the living room?” her mother called. 

Melody didn’t bother answering. She knew better; it wasn’t a question. If she didn’t do it there’d be a lot of passive aggression sent her way. Caprice took care of the coffee for himself and Rhapsody. The two usually had it the same. Melody handled the tea for herself and Dearan. He took it with a bit of milk, she used milk and sugar.

“Got the drinks, just how everyone likes,” Caprice said, handing a cup to Rhapsody as the two walked into the living room. Melody handed her second cup to Dearan and claimed a corner of the couch. Curling up, trying to look small. She hadn’t done that around Kyrie or the others in so long… 

“It’s so nice to be with you two again,” Rhapsody sighed. “I tried to get Aria to come along, but she wasn’t interested. She kept saying you’d be upset if we didn’t ask. I knew my favorite twins wouldn’t mind.”

“Right… of course not…” Melody tried not to let her annoyance show.

Another bout of silence. She was fine with it. The sweet tea distracted her. It was hard to keep her questions to herself. Why were they here? How long would they be here? Why did Dearan come along? He’d never really been close to her or Caprice.

“So… are you still seeing that guy you told me about?” Rhapsody asked. “What was his name again?”

“Kyrie? Yes… I’m still seeing him,” Melody smiled into her tea. She might try to sneak down to the beach in the middle of the night, her parents weren’t the type to wake up easily.

“When am I meeting this guy? Has Caprice met him?” Dearan asked. His voice was full of concern. She couldn’t help wondering if it was concern for Kyrie and not her…

“I’ve talked to him,” Caprice said. Saying they met could cause trouble.

“Well what do you think of him?” 

Melody’s eyes went wide. She turned to look at Caprice, almost shocked to find him just as stunned. They never talked about Cap’s opinion on Kyrie. A kind of unspoken rule. He wouldn’t judge her and she wouldn’t push him. Dearan cleared his throat again. He was waiting and wanted an answer.

“He’s… fine,” Caprice sighed. Melody bit her lip and looked away. That would never be enough for their dad.

“Just fine?”

“He worries about her. Would rather kill himself than let her cry. I don’t really see a problem.” Caprice shrugged. “Besides, it's her choice. Who cares what I think.”

“I’m not letting just anyone have my youngest daughter.”

“You wouldn’t be letting anyone have me anyway,” Melody mumbled. That got her a glare from Dearan. Tension started to fill the air. He clearly didn’t like that she wouldn’t take his opinion into account in her love life. As if he was stable enough for that.

Rhapsody clapped to gain attention, “Anyway, tell us about him. What does he do for work?”

Another thing that caught her off guard. Somehow she assumed all the conveniently ended phone calls would stop this kind of question. That was too hopeful. Melody took a long slow sip of her tea to think. Caprice shot her a worried look.

“He’s… I guess you would call him a guardian,” Melody said. She was always good at manipulating the truth. This was the best time to make use of that.

“Oh, do you mean for kids?” her mother asked.

“No… more like anyone who needs it…”

“Ahh, a bodyguard then.” Melody gave a non-commital shrug. That was an accepted yes if her mother’s nod meant anything.

“He’s good at his job,” Caprice added.

Melody gave him a smile. He did not return it. There would be a hushed conversation in a few hours when their parents were asleep. 

“Does he have chances for growth?” Dearan’s turn to ask questions.

“He has grown a lot since we met,” Melody nodded.

“How about drive?”

“I’d say he’d tear apart anyone that posed a challenge.”

“So it’s a risky line of work? He takes dangerous jobs?”

“No.. I’d say he’s intimidating enough there’s not much risk, he’d devour any that came his way if it happened.”

“Why would you-”

“Dad! Did I tell you I was thinking about going back to college?” Caprice jumped in. He sent Melody a glare.

“We can talk about that after. Melody what did you-” 

“I was thinking about marine life or folklore for a major. Maybe learn more about the whole siren thing. Find a way to make it easier.”

“I see.” Dearan answered through gritted teeth.

Caprice was the best at ending conversations. Although siren was the magic word. If that was brought up everyone would go silent. He and Melody were the two that wouldn’t accept that. That wanted answers. It was a hidden, shameful thing… That felt wrong now. Melody was almost proud of who she was. She wondered if Caprice was kind of proud too.

Rhapsody cleared her throat after a few minutes, clearly unhappy with the silence, “So Caprice, have you met anyone lately?”

“I don’t go out so no,” he sighed.

“You really should, your sister has someone. Aren’t you lonely?”

“I’m fine, mom.”

“Caprice, we did talk about this. Maybe you shouldn’t live out here anymore. It’s probably making it hard to find someone. Melody you-”

“Mom, did I tell you the nightmares started to get worse again? The siren ones. Do you have any idea how to help with those yet? You said you’d ask the other sirens you knew,” Melody cut Rhapsody off. The woman looked away.

“No… not yet.”

The two topics that shut their parents down brought ‘family time’ to an end. Rhapsody went right to the guest room. Likely to avoid Melody stopping her to discuss the nightmares. Dearan made his way to the kitchen. He liked to drink after thinking about the sirens. Too bad Melody and Caprice didn’t drink much; he’d be disappointed.

Caprice walked towards the guest room. He’d given up half way through clearing out his usual room opting to move for a while instead. At the door he turned to face her. With a stern look he brought his hand up and curled his index finger toward himself a few times. Melody reluctantly followed him into the room.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he growled.

“I was just answering their questions,” she tried to play innocent. She had made a bad call, told too much of the truth. She knew that.

“There’s no way-” Caprice’s voice rose as he spoke, but he was cut off by a slam on the door.

“Your mother’s sleeping keep it down!” Dearan screamed. Melody and Caprice shared a look. Mirrored eye rolls before he nodded towards the window. Melody nodded back.

In no time Caprice opened it and climbed out. Melody climbed out a bit slower. She needed a chair to help her, couldn’t jump up and pull herself out like Caprice. Once outside Melody led them. All the way down to the beach, just far enough the water couldn’t accidentally touch him. It felt like the first time she could breathe in hours. She sat with one knee up to her chest.

“I forgot how… stifling mom and dad could be,” she sighed.

“You’re not getting off that easy,” Caprice sat next to her. “What the hell were you thinking? Telling mom and dad he’s a guardian was bad enough. At least they’re used to you being weird, but he ‘devours’ threats in his way?!”

“I didn’t wanna lie, Cap.”

“We always used to. Nothing’s changed.”

“...I think a lot has.”

“Nah, if it did they’d notice right away.” Caprice leaned his head on her shoulder. She leaned her own on his head.

“Caprice, I can actually use my voice like in the stories. You turn into a, what? Twenty foot long fish?” She let out a dry laugh. “Things have changed.”

“I think it’s bigger than that, but it’s not that bad. We just play along. Aria always told us it would help deal with mom and dad.”

“Maybe… I just don’t think I can lie about him. I don’t know, this time it’s different. They aren’t going to accept him either way.”

“I mean, if they meet him I’ll just show them what that ‘allergy’ of mine does.”

The two sat quietly for a bit. Just existing free of the pressure they were under. It had always been easy before. Be who they expect and avoid arguments. Now it was hard. Now… now they knew who they were.

“Thanks for stopping mom,” Caprice mumbled.

“Thanks for stopping dad,” Melody smiled.

They settled back into silence. After a bit, Caprice stood and walked towards the water. Melody hummed a song as he did. He tossed his shirt at her, landing it squarely on her head. She made a face as she pulled it off. Already waist deep in the water she understood why. At night they could be themselves. At night they were a siren and an oceanid.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Almost a week passed with only minor arguments. More questions she’d been dodging about Kyrie. Stuff about his family, where he lives, when they’d meet. Caprice did amazing at changing the subject when it happened. 

Caprice dealt with more questions about his career. Love life. Love preferences. Melody made sure to cause a problem each time.

Night was the only period of calm. When she and Caprice would sneak out. He’d go off swimming, she’d watch from the beach. Sing some soft songs, just far enough the water couldn’t touch her when the tides came in. Each night they’d stay out until just before the sun rose.

After the fifth night out in a row, she gave up going to her own room. She fell asleep on Caprice’s bed, like when they were kids. It became a rare occasion of a good dream. She was on the beach with Pelago. The mermaid was playing with Melody’s hair. Caprice was out in the water, Kyrie and Byssal doing something with him. They were too far out for her to see. It was peaceful, warm, something she wanted all her life. Something that happened pretty often in her reality. Something she wanted to keep.

When she woke up her heart hurt. She wanted that peaceful warmth back. The time with her parents felt cold in comparison. Caprice and Dearan fought often. Usually about his future. She fought with Rhapsody. About her attitude, how she would speak out, how stubborn she was. Aria it was always how she didn’t listen, didn’t try hard enough. None of the kids could escape it. 

It took more than an hour for her to finally leave the room. It took that long to accept the warmth was still gone. Caprice smirked at her when she opened his door. He was sitting on the couch with Dearan. She walked over and sat on a chair near them. Honestly she was still tired, but going back to sleep wouldn’t do any good. It would just make her heart ache more.

“Thought you were going to sleep all day,” Dearan said. She shrugged. The comment left a silence that felt wrong.

“Where’s mom?” she asked.

“She went down to the beach a few minutes ago. At first she was gonna do laundry, but after she found a blanket that smelled like the water she said it would be better to do it after,” Caprice said. Melody’s heart nearly pounded out of her chest.

“What blanket?” 

“Uh… purple with a blue flower pattern-”

Melody ran from the house. She had to make sure Kyrie didn’t show up. By the time she made it to the sand, her mother was holding the blanket up at the corners. Just like Melody showed Kyrie. She nearly fell as she pulled it down from her mother’s hands.

“Melody, what are you doing?” Rhapsody asked.

“How many times did you shake this!?” Melody screamed. She couldn’t keep her fear or anger from her voice.

“I don’t know, three maybe. Why would it matter?”

“Why were you snooping in my closet?!”

“You know that you and Aria always have too many clothes. I thought I’d wash them, you try them on, and we could drop off what you don’t want on our way home.”

“Then let’s go inside and see what clothes you picked for that. This blanket is special.”

“What makes it so-”

One.

Kyrie’s shadow covered the beach.

Two.

Melody looked up, his eyes were closed. His teeth on full display in a wide grin that she’d usually find cute.

Three.

Her mother started to shake.

Four.

Shouts came from up the hill. She didn’t know the others followed her.

Five.

Kyrie reached forward and her mother screamed.

Five seconds. 

Melody always assumed her life would take longer than that to fall apart. Now they’d treat Kyrie like a monster. Tell her to leave him. Try to control her, hide her again. They’d push Caprice apart from her. Blame her for putting him in danger again.

One.

“Get away from them!” Dearan screamed. 

Two.

Kyrie’s eyes snapped open, he let out a sad chirp. She knew the moment he met her eyes. Realized what happened. That it wasn’t her, their signal wasn’t safe. He’d made a mistake and revealed himself to her parents. 

Three.

Her mother grabbed her arm. Tried to drag her away from claws Kyrie left close. Melody was frozen. She wanted to hold his finger, promise it was ok, that she wasn’t mad.

“Dad, calm down!” Caprice shouted. 

“That monster is gonna kill them!” Dearan.

“Melody we have to run!” Rhapsody.

Four

A sad whine mixed with a trill that echoed. Chirps farther out in the water, sounds she knew.

Five.

Melody dug in her heels.

Five seconds.

That’s what it took for Melody to realize she couldn’t let the merfolk in her life be hurt by her parents’ fear.

“Enough!” She screamed as loud as she could. Kyrie’s ear fins pressed back against his head. He lowered himself, even started to pull his fingers away. Melody reached out and grabbed one of his claws.

“We need to get away, it doesn’t know what we are yet!” Rhapsody said.

“Melody, listen to your mother and run!” Dearan said.

“I’m not running from him!”

Melody pulled her arm free and walked closer. She spun around, placed her hand on Kyrie’s skin, and faced her family. Caprice waltzed down the beach. He stopped next to her and gave a nod. They were on the same page.

“Melody, what the hell are you doing?!” Dearan said.

“You both kept asking when you’d meet, well,” she dug her nails into Kyrie’s skin, “this is Kyrie… I’m pretty sure by now he’d call us mates.”

Silence sat for a moment. She tilted her head back, Kyrie looked confused. It crossed her mind she’d made the wrong call, said something he’d hate. Then a purr burst out of him. Loud enough she stumbled in surprise. The bright smile that followed was adorable. 

Dearan started shouting again. Melody couldn’t make out the words over Kyrie’s purrs. As the shouting grew closer, Kyrie grew quieter. He was silent for a second before he started a soft growl. The shouts quieted in response. 

“Melody, get away before it decides to attack,” Rhapsody begged. 

Melody gestured to the people who raised her. “Kyrie… this is Rhapsody and Dearan… Mine and Caprice’s parents.”

“Nice to meet you,” Kyrie mumbled. Melody tried to squeeze the finger she held. A small sign of support. 

“Get away from it now, Melody. I’m not asking,” Dearan insisted. She merely shook her head. “Caprice, get her away from it.”

“His name is Kyrie. He can understand you too,” Caprice said. He took a step back, a step closer to the water. “I told you it’s up to her who she’s with, besides he’ll keep her safe.”

“Both of you get away from it now!”

Melody stood firm. This was her life, her partner, and she wasn’t running. These people were the ones that put her in danger. Kept secrets to make themselves feel better. They were so desperate to live a normal life, they would rather hide her away. She wasn’t going to do that anymore. She was a siren… and her mate was right beside her.

Kyrie’s growl faded. Caprice put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. A small reassurance. It helped, a little. Dearan and Rhapsody didn’t do anything for a bit. It made her hope that this could be recovered. Her worlds could collide. That, maybe, even their relationship with their parents could improve after all of it. Then Dearan stepped forward.

“After all of this you’re doing it again?” he breathed. Melody stepped back, closer to the water. To Caprice. To Kyrie.

“Dearan don’t-” Rhapsody tried.

“Shut up Rhapsody!” Dearan took another step closer to Melody and Caprice. A step closer to Kyrie. “After all this time you’re bringing trouble to us again.”

“Dearan please!”

“I knew we should have stopped it when Aria paid for that manager. When you started taking singing lessons of all things. But no!” Dearan turned his glare on Rhapsody. “You said it would be fine. That the small signs we’d seen would fade! You said to ignore it.”

Caprice squeezed his hand on Melody’s shoulder. Nails started to dig into her skin. This wasn’t the fight they expected. Not about signs they knew about her voice. All this time they both thought it was a shock. That all the times things hinted at it were because of the audio mixing. Not just her voice.

“You never wanted to get involved. Always saying how it was just a phase!” Dearan continued. He started to pace. Kyrie backed up, the tips of his fingers stayed right next to her.

“Dearan, this is not the time to get into this!” Rhapsody shouted.

“Just like it wasn’t the time to talk about it when our daughter started dressing like a man!”

Caprice’s nails dug deeper into her skin. They knew Dearan had issues when Caprice started to transition. Called him Choir for months. They thought it was a struggle not… not complete ignorance. Melody put her hand on Caprice’s. This was the right move, these people weren’t parents.

“If you let me talk then we could have stopped her before she was too far gone!” Dearan finally turned his glare back on Melody. A finger aimed directly at her. “The only thing good came of the damn sports and then you had to go and ruin it.” 

“I told you before that night I wanted to quit,” Caprice growled. Melody squeezed his hand. She hadn’t known that. Dearan’s glare didn’t leave Melody.

“All because of her! If she had listened there wouldn’t have been so much time you spent working! You would have been dedicated to your sports.” Dearan stepped closer. Melody and Caprice took a step back. Kyrie shifted back along with them. More than them. “If you had only listened, but no. No matter how much we tried. Every. Single. Time. You’d start up again.”

“You never told us,” Melody whispered. “Never told me. Just said it was a foolish dream…”

Kyrie chirped softly. He pressed the tip of one finger against her. Dearan started shaking.

“Now you’re doing it all over again. Causing trouble for all of us! Get away from that monster now. We’re all leaving. Immediately.”

Caprice squeezed her shoulder. Melody squeezed his hand.

“No,” they said together.

“I said,” Dearan stormed forward. “We’re leav-”

A hand with dark green claws slammed down, palm towards Melody and Caprice. A deep growl she never expected to love quite so much sounded. Byssal was there, Byssal heard it all. Caprice pulled her back just a bit. A little closer to the water. A large hand grabbed her arm, she turned to see Pel. It was obvious how the mermaid avoided touching Caprice. Avoided getting him wet.

“Melody, make them go away,” Rhapsody begged. “We can talk after this. Once your father calms down. There’s more to talk about anyway. Things we came to discuss.”

“Now you want to talk,” Melody said. Slowly her hands curled into fists. Melody would have stormed forward if she wasn’t held still. “Now, after all of this. After all he just said. You want to talk?”

“For once in your damned life listen. We know what’s best,” Dearan said.

“You know what’s best? You don’t know anything. Neither of you ever listened to what we had to say, to what we wanted to do!” Melody’s eyes burned. A sting of tears that wanted to fall. Ones of anger, an anger she thought she wouldn’t feel again. “You lied to us our whole lives, pretending we were normal. Never thought that sitting your kids down and offering an explanation would help!”

“We only hid the things you didn’t need to know. Caprice would never have been told if it wasn’t such a… public time you learned.”

“Byssal,” Caprice said. The eerie calm in his voice was a match to Melody’s burning tears. “Move your hand.”

A nearly deafening silence followed. The whole time Byss had been growling. So easy to ignore it now, to accept it as a part of life. The silence said more than was needed. The merfolk would do as Caprice and Melody wanted. Whatever that meant. Byssal’s hand moved. Caprice let her go and pulled his hand from Melody’s. He stepped close enough to the water that the waves could hit him any second.

“You would only tell us when it mattered? You only hid what was important?” Caprice asked as he picked a foot up. He hovered it dangerously close to the water. “Then why don’t you explain telling me I was ‘allergic’ to salt water. How did that protect us from a truth we didn’t need to know? What would happen if I touched it?”

“Caprice don’t, you… you might die, it's not safe!” Rhapsody yelled. The lie was obvious. She knew.

“You already know what will happen don’t you? You always knew. Do you wanna know what made me hate sports? The older I got, the tighter my skin felt. As if something was wrong with me, like my body was too small. So what would happen if I stepped into the water, Mother?”

“Damn it Caprice, listen already and get your sister away from those monsters! You said you wanted to help her so stop enabling her!” Dearan screeched. He knew; he wouldn’t fight so hard if he didn’t.

“I wonder if you think I don’t already know? That I’m just testing it. What do you think the real reason is I chose to come live out here with Melody? Quit my job out of nowhere. Just because that creep who kidnapped us when we learned the truth came back? That I was scared?”

Caprice stomped down onto the damp sand. Rhapsody and Dearan called his name. Pelago’s hand on Melody’s arm tightened. Byssal and Kyrie whined. Melody… Melody wanted to sing. She could do more that way, tell her own story that way. Words couldn’t explain just what she felt or experienced after meeting Kyrie. After her own parents tried to lock her up, almost like a princess in a tower.

An eternity passed in seconds as Caprice was hit by the water. He arched his back, the pain easy to manage now. This time, he grew first. His hair got a little longer, body expanded, nails turned to claws. Just as his clothes tore, the scales grew in. Covered his legs as he fell to his knees. They fused to form his tail, just as his hands slammed down on either side of Melody.

“So you poisoned him too?” Dearan said. “Made him think these monsters are something he should want to be?!”

“You should realize they have their own thoughts,” Byssal’s growled words made Melody jump. Caprice was growing, he couldn’t speak.

“Stay out of this you-you thing! I’m talking to my children you haven’t done a damn thing to have the right to speak-”

“Byssal has more right to speak than you do” Melody screamed. “He’s done more for me than you ever have!”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about!”

“I know a lot more than you think I do.” 

Pelago’s hand on her arm tightened. Kyrie whined. Caprice’s now huge hand came close, circled around her. Byssal kept a low growl moving. Melody closed her eyes. This was solidly setting where her life would be. The humans or the merfolk. Caprice proved his decision. Now it was her turn.

“Did you know,” Melody started, “those songs I always used to hum were real? Part of being a siren… It’s thanks to Byssal I finally know I’m not crazy.”

“Melody now is not the time-” Rhapsody tried. Byssal growled loud enough to stop her.

“Pelago, she makes herself human to help me. Calm me down if something’s gone wrong. Listens to the nightmares I have.”

“Oh guppy,” Pel mumbled. Melody pulled her arm out of the mermaid’s grip. Just enough to hold a finger or two in her hand.

“Both of them teach Caprice about himself now. About the part you were going to leave hidden forever. They respect him too. Don’t pressure him to find a partner. They don’t secretly think he’s not a man either.”

“Enough. Make Caprice human and come with us now!” Dearan growled.

“Kyrie did all he could just to meet me. Even once I could understand him when he spoke the merfolk language he kept learning English. He was desperate to let me keep the parts of my human life he had never been a part of!”

Kyrie’s finger pressed against her. She looked up at him. A bright smile on his face, her own smile at him just as bright. There was so much about him. So much in her own mind. Impossible to explain at this point. She could hear Dearan and Rhapsody talk, but staring into the massive blue eyes over her fixed the issues in her heart.

There was so much, but she knew the solution. Sirens could express so much more in song. It wasn’t just to help others. Melody would use that, use what the merfolk around her had given her, to explain things. She started to sing.

It started off slow. In her mind she pushed all the feelings she’d always hidden. Loneliness, anxiety, otherness. How her own parents left her to feel when her obsession with music was treated with so much hate.

A shift, almost too subtle. A screech of pain that ended in a whimper of apathy. An undertone of betrayal persisted. Isolated for years. Blamed for all the problems. Argument after argument about her own stubbornness being the reason why this happened. How if she listened her life would never have changed. She never would have met the only people who accepted her.

The song faded slowly. Entered into a small empty time. Darkness, nothingness. All she could do was exist. Then it stopped. The world itself waited for her to continue. Knowledge that her song was far from done.

Slowly, Melody hummed. It was filled with warmth and curiosity. An air of nerves anchored the harmony in reality. Her dark, isolated life changed. She met Kyrie, Pelago, and Byssal. Caprice turned into a merfolk. Finally there were people who understood. People who would hear that she was anxious to sing and respect that. Caprice looked happy again, the first time in years.

It carried on to hold bits of pain. Kyrie grew, the stones tried to control her. The way her own voice had been a weapon that nearly killed people she loved. At the same time she watched thousands upon thousands of sirens die. Souls bound to the stones that tortured her just as they had been. Then Caprice saved her. Destroyed the exact thing that would hold her in eternal pain. He set thousands upon thousands free. A revelry of relief. A symphony of thanks. Yet the panic and fear stayed, still coated in a warmth that only grew stronger. Undertones of reassurance, relief, and understanding.

Her song neared its end. The time they learned and grew. Days Kyrie made her smile just from understanding her. Peaceful days on the beach where Pelago would sit with her while Byssal and Kyrie helped Caprice adjust to his new size.

Melody turned to look at her parents as she ended her song. The feeling of warmth faded as she took them in. It was clear they didn’t like what she’d done. Caprice chirped as Kyrie’s fingers closed in around her. Melody placed her palms against his skin. A small tell to keep her on the ground.

“You’ve gone that far with all this?” Rhapsody’s voice was dark. “I hid so much to keep both of you safe and now you’re throwing it in my face? Fine I was a bad mother, but I’m not letting either of you sell yourselves to those soulless creatures! I was packing your things Melody. That’s why I found the blanket!”

“The house was sold. You have until the end of the month to move out. We were contacted last week about the lease ending,” Dearan said. Melody dug her nails into Kyrie’s skin. “The new owner wouldn’t discuss it with us. Now I’m glad he wouldn’t.”

Byssal and Kyrie whined. Pelago chirped. Melody and Caprice laughed. All of this for a secret they didn’t think would need to be shared. A private sale had gone through, thanks to Pelago’s collection. Thanks to her letting them take some of the statues. A reward had been offered for any information on the missing parts of the terracotta army. 

“She’s right here. We made the sale private. Caprice and I aren’t going anywhere,” Melody said. She stood tall. Caprice let out a growl.

“I think it’s time you leave. Maybe once you’ve calmed down we can talk about it,” Caprice said. It was the same thing their parents always told them. Calm down then they’d talk, but the talk later never happened.

Melody tensed. Kyrie did too. She expected a fight. Instead both her parents actually turned and left. Caprice climbed out of the water once they were up the hill. Pelago climbed out a bit too. Her brother would need a towel once he turned back…

Byssal left, but she saw him appear just over the cliff. Watching. Helping them even now. Even when there was no reason to. Melody spun around in Kyrie’s hand. Waved her arms to bring his face closer. He let out a soft chirp as he did so. Eyes full of concern.

“Kyrie,” she whispered. “Can you kiss me?”

He looked worried for a moment. It didn’t stop him from nodding. He came close, took some of his fingers away. He was so massive, yet she trusted him. He wouldn’t hurt her. Couldn’t hurt her. Lips gently pressed her into the skin of his finger. A tired laugh left her just before he pulled away. This was one of the only places she felt at home, in fingers that were bigger than anyone she’d ever met.

“Are you two ok?” Pelago asked. Melody leaned into Kyrie’s fingers. Caprice made some chirp she hadn’t heard before.

“Probably,” Caprice mumbled. “Eventually.”

“We will be…” Melody smiled up at Kyrie once he pulled away from her. The sting on her hand was gone. “We’re with the family we chose.”

Byssal came back to the beach. A nod to tell them the two were gone. Rhapsody and Dearan had done their best. It was the claim Melody, Aria, and Caprice always shared. That didn’t make the past accepted. All three knew that too. Aria would call in a few days, complaints sent her way. Eventually their parents would reach out again. Angry, but not willing to completely lose their kids.

Either way, they had a family that bled warmth and care; that made it possible to accept who they truly are. That family was more than worth everything that just happened. A family that they would never hide again.

[lesbiankoby]

djdjjdjdjdjdjdjd spardakin kyrie au uh. im tempted to suggest her primary weapon type is big fucking two handed swords like nero angelo.

nico: [this is the hottest woman she’s ever interacted with in her whole entire life ever] i can, uh, make ya one of them final fantasy swords. ya know. if ya want.

kyrie: [puzzled confusion has no idea what final fantasy is]

[icycoldninja]

(dmc) if the gangs signature swords were turned into humans for a day, what do you think they'd be like?

Excellent notion, I'm glad you brought it to me.

If the DMC boys' swords were human headcannons!

🔥Devil Sword Dante 🔥

(Idk if this is classified as his signature sword since he has a lot of those, but since this one has his name in it I'm gonna write about it)

-Devil Sword Dante would manifest in the form of an old, yet muscular, ex-rockstar-hobo-looking dude, aesthetically similar to Dante.

-He would wear a punk leather jacket with a red undershirt that reads "Let's Rock Bitches" and would possibly have a long scraggly wizard beard, a bandana, and maybe even an electric guitar strapped to his back.

-He and Dante would shake hands, bump fists, then declare each other BBFLs (Best Bros For Life)

-They would immediately trash Devil May Cry by throwing a massive pizza party and rock out so hard the windows blow up because of the sound waves radiating from their electric guitars.

-These two would singlehandedly buy and eat up all the pizza from their local Pizzahut.

-At the end of the day, Dante and Devil Sword Dante would bro-hug and bid each other farewell. Devil Sword Dante promises to fight alongside Dante for the rest of his days while Dante promises to take good care of him when he's not in use.

-Dante secretly wishes he could turn the sword back into a uuman, permanently, because it feels like he just lost the closest, greatest friend he'd ever made.

❄️ The Yamato ❄️

-The Yamato would become the essence of motivation itself: It would manifest as a Vergil clone.

-The only difference is that this clone is mute, and does not speak, and that his arms and legs are actually blades.

-Vergil may have been frowning on the outside when he met the human manifestation of his sword, but he was smiling in the inside.

-The Yamato has no emotions, but it has motivation. Though it couldn't speak, it motivated Vergl to do things like beat up his deadweight child again he would have never dreamed of doing until now.

-Because The Yamato doesn't speak, Vergil finds the peace and quiet (a very rare occurrence until now) incredibly calming.

-He doesn't exactly miss The Yamato when it returns to sword form, but he does have a renewed respect for it. To him, it is no longer just a sword; it is a part of him.

🟥 Red Queen 🟥

-Unlike the first two swords, Red Queen does not manifest as an adult human. It manifests as a child.

-This kid is exuberant, loud, and has a penchant for mischief. Nero has his hands full, chasing it around and trying to keep it from hurting itself.

-The kid somehow conjured up some crayons and markers and began drawing all over the walls of Devil May Cry and Nero and Kyrie's house. Eventually, Nero nabs the little gremlin and takes him back to his home, where Kyrie cooks up a massive meal for it.

-Nero is exhausted after just 1 hour of dealing with this menace, but at the same time, it's growing on him. He even gave the kid a name: Little Monster.

-When Little Monster eventually has to return to sword form, it gives Nero a big leg-hug and says goodbye, saying it had a lot of fun and that it wishes they could play again sometime.

-Nero is more than happy to have that little troll gone, he kinda misses it, after a little while. Ah well, at least now he's prepared for parenthood.