#Post Devil May Cry 5 FanFic

[skvaderarts]

Petrichor Chapter 35: Appointment

Chapter 35: Appointment

Note: Did I just finish a chapter a day early? Before 3 pm? Who the hell am I anymore?!

(-~-)

Like all urgent medical matters that required immediate answers, it took the better part of a month to get an opening at a doctor's office that was worth going to. And by that time she was 6 months along.

Now late February, her due date was in a little over 10 weeks, and both she and Vergil desperately needed answers as to why she’d been having fainting spells and unrelenting dizziness. She’s been to the emergency room three times by this point, and they’d taken the earliest date available for the specialist that they needed to see, but both of them had been silently worried that they were rapidly running out of time.

And then the day finally came. After a month of patent waiting, they stepped through the door to the specialist’s office to be greeted by an older woman who looked to be in her late fifties to early sixties with a pleasant and reassuring demeanor who was holding a clipboard. And although she was smiling at them, something in her eyes betrayed the fact that she had less than exciting news to deliver to them. Vergil and Vivienne shared a look, the former attempting to hide his concern as best as he could so as to not further worry the latter. She’s been overjoyed to get an appointment for the better part of the last month, but as the week of the appointment arrived, she’d been terrified to actually go to it. And although he’d said nothing out of a self-held conviction that he would only make things worse, he would be lying to say he didn’t feel the same way.

“Hello. Welcome. Please come in and close the door behind you.” She said politely as she flipped through a few of the papers on the clipboard that she held, checking something before setting them aside. She then turned back to them and folded her arms, allowing them a moment to gather their bearings. It seemed she wasn’t going to rush them. They were in no hurry.

“So… What's happening to me?” Vivienne asked as the doctor gestured towards the seat behind them a second time, gently but with insistence. She clearly wanted to make sure that whatever news she had for them didn’t cause her to fall or anything adjacent to that. It was apparent that she’d done her homework. At least this doctor had read the file… that wasn’t always a given. She was hoping they wouldn’t have to explain what was going on for what felt like the millionth time to yet another doctor. They appreciated the assistance, but it became demoralizing when it became clear that no one was taking the time to read the information given to them. Of course they were busy and Vivienne had respect for that, but it didn’t inspire confidence in most cases.

"Is she going to improve or continue to decline? Will… will she be alright?” Vergil added quietly, his hesitance well hidden perhaps from the doctor but not from Vivienne, the reality of the situation weighing heavily upon him just as it did her. The majority of the questions were hers to ask, of course. This was her appointment, after all. But he just needed to know where they stood, and the look on Vivienne’s face told him that she agreed as she sat in the chair in front of him, Vergil standing behind her with his hand on the back of her seat, gripping it tightly. He was braced for bad news. It was always bad news.

"By our estimations, all of the above. But it’s complicated.” The doctor said calmly, her demeanor changing slightly as she unfolded her arms and sat down in her desk chair just a small distance from Vivienne. Perhaps she thought the conversation would be less uncomfortable if she wasn’t standing over her. “She may continue to decline a bit before her due date and then improve after a period of rest, post-due date, of course. But we believe that she will be just fine. We have no estimation as to how long that recovery period might be, however. Or how much this will affect her long term. There is always the possibility of not making a full recovery. Any decline in health can become permanent with the wrong circumstances.”

“What does that mean for her at the moment, exactly?” This talk of long-term health issues concerned him, and if the way Vivienne had just gone rigid in her chair was anything to go by, she was certainly taking this as seriously as she needed to be. It seemed that they were going to need to have a serious and uncomfortable conversation when they returned home. But perhaps they were taking things too quickly. Maybe they needed more information.

“I think it means that I’m high risk,” Vivienne said softly, turning to look at Vergil. He could tell that she was frightened, and he wasn’t sure what to say or do about that at the moment. He allowed his hand to shift from the back of her chair to her shoulder, a small shift that he hoped would do… something. He was somewhat overwhelmed at the moment, a sentiment that he was sure they both felt. She seemed to notice this as she turned around to face the doctor again, her hands clasped together in her lap. She kept wiggling them in a way that told him that she probably didn’t know what to do with them, or herself, for that matter.

“Yes and no. Internally, everything is as it should be. You're having no complications with the baby at current, and that’s one positive to be found in this situation. What it really means is that you will need to take it easy—no strenuous activity. So stretching or stooping if you can help it, and absolutely no heavy lifting. Nothing over ten to fifteen pounds is advisable. Twenty at most.” The doctor said gently but with a seriousness that made it clear that she wasn’t so much suggesting this as she was politely ordering it. She was clearly serious but didn’t want the tone of the conversation to be too dire.

“I see.” Vivienne didn’t seem to know what else to say. That was… a lot to take in.

“Your existing condition causes you to have a propensity to faint and have weak spells. I imagine this was more manageable before now?” The doctor asked, picking up the clipboard on her desk to make notes. She flipped through some of the documents again, more than likely checking something while she waited for a response.

Vivienne nodded to herself before realizing that the doctor probably wanted her to answer verbally so that she could officially record her response. She glanced up at her as if to confirm this before clearing her throat. She was suddenly a bit hoarse. “It was, yes. I haven’t actually collapsed like that since I was a preteen, if I recall correctly.”

The doctor nodded in confirmation before setting the clipboard aside again, clasping her fingers as she rotated in her chair to face her again. It seemed that she’d confirmed whatever information she was looking for, at least for the time being. She then stood up so that she could get a better look at Vivienne for a moment before gesturing for her to stand so that she could give her a quick once-over. Once that was done they both sat back down so that they could resume their conversation.

“Please take it easy, for the time being. I would hate for your next fall to have more disastrous consequences. If you can appoint someone to oversee your affairs outside of low-energy tasks, I highly advise that you do so. At least until your next appointment with us, at the very least. We can reconvene and see if there has been any improvement at that time. And if there has been, we can adjust our recommendation.” She said as Vivienne settled back into her seat. From what Vergil could tell, this appointment was probably more or less over. THis was going to be one of those “wait-and-see” situations, apparently. That made some sense, but it would be utterly nerve-wracking.

“Is there a medication that could help? In the meantime?” Vivienne asked, clearly wanting to do whatever she could to make the situation less dire. This wasn’t the sort of situation that she would have guessed she’d ever find herself in, but it seemed that there was little she could do to alleviate things. Still, if there was something that might help even a little, she at least wanted to know. For all their sakes.

The doctor shook her head, gesturing towards the clipboard on her desk. It seemed that her test results from a previous visit to another doctor had been sent over like the lab said they would be. That was good to know. “We looked into that but all of your results for bloodwork came back… inconclusive. Especially any tests ran on your baby. We're not sure what happened, but until we run more tests, it wouldn’t be safe to recommend anything. I can schedule another round of tests if you’d like.”

Vergil cleared his throat, adjusting his standing position slightly. Yes, he was sure he had some idea as to why that might be the case. Vivienne reached over and took his hand, squeezing it slightly but not looking at him. It seemed that they might be on the same page in this regard. They’d been apprehensive about having that bloodwork done… 

“Alright… that’s good to know. I’ll… get back to you about that. Thank you for your time. Truly.“ Vivienne said softly as they stood up and headed towards the door, excusing themselves. Vergil could tell that she was apprehensive, and for the first time during this ordeal, unsure as to what could be done. But as they stepped through the doorway and were about to close the door behind them, the doctor stopped them, handing them a packet of information.

“Please don’t worry yourself, if you can help it. That could have a measurable negative impact on your health and well-being. Breathe and take some time to think. You can always call our office should you need any questions answered, and the info here should be of assistance. Just take things one step at a time, okay? It’s scary, I know, but don’t think the worst just yet. I know that's easy to do.”

Vivienne blinked in surprise, her eyes slightly watery as she nodded in confirmation. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, closing her eyes as she shuddered slightly. She tightened her grip on Vergil’s hand to an uncomfortable degree, but he stood there and allowed her to, looking at her quietly as she composed herself. He’d accompanied her partially out of a desire to be present for moral support and partially because he too wanted answers to these questions. He knew that she would tell him regardless, but considering everything that had happened recently, it was probably best that he attend some of her visits with her, if she would have him. 

But as far as asking questions went, he didn’t have the slightest idea where to start. And the last thing he wanted to do was talk over Vivienne at her own appointment. He had a distinct feeling that, rightfully so, that wouldn’t go over very well.

“Thank you.” He said simply. He couldn’t think of much else to say. He was somewhat overwhelmed himself, given the situation. He was just… silent. Deep in thought. Three more months. And then this would hopefully be over for her. She would be okay. She simply had to be. He refused to picture a reality where she didn’t. He couldn’t live with that.

“My pleasure. You can call, too. If you’d like. Again, all the information is in the folder. Have a nice day.” With that, she stepped back through the doorway and closed the door, leaving them in the hallway to head back to the lobby, out the front entrance, and back to their home. They had a place to start and, according to the paper on the front of the folder, a follow-up appointment in two weeks. They would just do as requested for now. It was a starting point. At least they had some answers. That was something they could work with.

“... Thank you for coming with me,” Vivienne said, clutching Vergil’s arm as though her knees would buckle without him. He looked down at her, not budging. She could hold him like this for as long as she liked. It was the least he could do for her. And at the moment, as much as he hated it, it felt like it might be the only thing he could do for her. He was at her disposal and she knew it, but he wasn’t sure he would be of much use. He hoped he could be. A part of him had expected that something out of the ordinary might happen due to his own parentage and the mixture of demon and human blood not being equal like it had been for him and his own brother, but he’d never expected this. She’d been so exhausted lately. He hoped that she would be her vibrant, happy self again. He missed seeing her happy and well and unbothered. Her life had probably been filled with much less trouble before she’d met him.

“Is there anything else I can do? Anything at all.” He asked quietly, looking down at her with nothing short of admiration. He couldn’t imagine what she must be thinking right now. He was barely able to think at all. That strength was something he respected about her. He didn’t see that often. She wasn’t just an ordinary human. Not to him.

Vivienne gave him a barely perceptible smile before releasing him so that she could wrap her arms around him and give him a gentle hug. They stayed that way for about a minute before she released him and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him. She held him there for a moment, not letting go before stopping so that she could look him in the eyes when she spoke. And despite his distaste for direct eye contact, he remained there with her, at her beck and call. “You’re doing enough already. Let’s just take just everything one step at a time. I think everything will be okay as long as we work together.”

He nodded. That was the only way that this could work. And he would never abandon her either way. That simply wasn’t who he was. That wasn’t who he could ever be. He would never forsake her. Not after everything they’d been through together. “Very well. Then that is what we will do.”

(-~-)

Well, that could have gone better, but it could have been worse too, I guess. Poor things… Let's hope things get better for them before they get worse, hu? I wonder what Dante is thinking as Vergil is telling him all of this. Vergil really needs some therapy. Ahem… ANYWAY! I hope you liked the chapter! Well, as much as you could, given the subject material. Sorry if this was upsetting at all. I didn’t intend for it to be. And I’ll see you next week on Wednesday! I’m not sure which fic I’ll update next week, but I’ll keep you posted. Probably both of them hehe! It’s a fun refresher to go back and forth between them. And as always, have a wonderful day and an even better weekend! See you in the comment section! Bye bye!

[polarisbibliotheque]

Nemesis (Vergil x Reader) - Chapter 6

Nemesis

Pairing: Vergil x Reader

Summary: The Abyss opening is a rare occurrence. In his youth, Vergil wanted to harness its power, but never thought he would meet his greatest adversary along the way. Years later, the Abyss is once again open and that might call for some rather unlikely alliances.

Chapter 1 (Prologue) | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 (you are here!)

Age restriction: 18+ - there’s a lot of blood, violence, cursing and all those things people want to forbid younger audiences of seeing. Also, cosmic horror is a thing here. Procceed with caution.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: This chapter STARTS with a dream where the reader sees themselves hurt - same going for Vergil. There's blood, broken hearts, difficult feelings, self-doubt and talks about giving up. Proceed with a lot of caution if that's difficult for you.

Special Credits: Our dear Ovid is a character created by @furyeclipse and, even when they don't show up, I'm crediting and thanking forever ^^

You can check out Fury’s writing (which I highly recommend) on this link: Fury’s Ao3

Author's Notes: Yes, it took forever, but hey, we're back! (Yes, I've a mix of Backstreet Boy's Everybody and Eminem's Without Me playing rent free in my head) This chapter is a little shorter than normal BUT we're meeting the devil in the red coat, DMC 1 style ;)

It's just so good to be writing again. I'm so sorry for taking huge times off, but I'll always update as soon as I can! Thank you so much to everyone who spends time here reading, I appreciate each and every one of you!

And special thanks to the anon who sent the ask worried about me, you motivated me enough for this chapter to happen. You have my deepest gratitude <3

Chapter 6

“I can’t mend it.”

Your hands rested on your lap, your shoulders defeated. The shards of your crystal broken heart laid on the floor, covered in blood. Your eyes were surrounded with a rim of red, so tired of crying, as well as your body – so tired of fighting.

You were done. Done. One day, you would fall on battle and you wouldn’t be able to get up. Your knees would fail, your legs would tremble, and the tears in your eyes would finally be shed.

All that strength… All that will, all that power… It came from something inside you that didn’t allow you to give up. But you had to admit, that was running out.

It doesn’t matter if you can mend it or not. You thought as you observed yourself, unable to help, unable to speak, unable to make them see. The only thing you could do was to look at yourself, deep inside, as if it was the first time.

And it probably was.

It doesn’t matter if your heart heals. It doesn’t matter if it’s broken. You have to get up. You have to keep moving forward.

“I can’t… Put it back…” That’s when your bony hands moved to your naked chest – empty, dark, with a never-ending abyss that could swallow you whole. Your fingers trembled around the corners of the wound, revealing an infinity of nothingness. “I… I’m tired.”

Your red eyes finally met yours – but they didn’t recognize you. They just looked forward, up, somewhere, searching… Maybe for hope, maybe for a way out.

As you saw lonely tears dripping from your tired eyes, you knew what that look was.

Hopelessness.

That dreadful void in your chest pulling you down, into oblivion, into a pit of tar that would make you crawl, fight and lose the battle, with your body finally choosing to shut down after wasting energy without a goal. Without hope.

“We are better than that.”

You furrowed your brows, as your tired form didn’t move. But that voice… You haven’t heard it in years: since the last opening of the Abyss, it was gone. Almost as if a distant nightmare, from so many lives ago.

The blue coated devil, that arrogant demon that managed to draw your blood as you did the same to him. As the years went by, he just… Vanished. You never heard of him again. When you had a suspicion of an Abyss opening, he wasn’t there. When the energy of the Abyss was felt once again, he wasn’t there.

And as the years went by, you started to fear. Was your nemesis… Gone? What if that really happened? Did you have anything else pushing you forward?

You had the Abyss, yes. You had your researches, your deal with Ovid. But apart from that, what did you really have? Losing your archenemy would be a great loss – even greater if it wasn’t by your hands.

“We are not… This.” As his voice echoed again, your defeated form looked forward once more, finding his form.

But he was so different. If you, as an observer, could, you would have gasped out loud. He was kneeling on the ground, without his clothes, skinny and bony, pale skin glistening in the dark void like the faint moonlight – you could even see his dark veins underneath it, so glaring on his face. His eyes carried a bloody anger you had never seen before – worse than when you fought: those were the eyes of a broken pride.

His bony hands were tied behind his back, wrapped in chains, just like his feet. A heavy set of iron clasped around his neck, with chains fading in the dark. His body was covered in scars, some open and bleeding, some old and closed. His lips had a tinge of purple, as if frozen, and his heart… Shattered near his knees, him being unable to pick it up, even if he wanted to.

“We are broken… Again.” You whispered back, your eyes lacking any kind of feeling. All the anger stored in his contrasted with the void in yours. “There will come a day we will not be able to get up again. Our bodies… Will give out.”

“As long as our spirit does not...” His voice was as stark as always, but, for the first time, you heard it wavering. “It does not matter if our bodies do.”

“For me, it does.” You had a faint melancholic smile on your wine-red lips – getting darker and darker as you gave out. “I’m only human.”

His eyes stared back at you, those silvery pieces of ice, burning like the last circle of Hell. Your form didn’t close your eyes, but you did. You wanted to get out of there. You wanted to breathe. You wanted it all to be gone. You wanted peace of mind.

“That is what makes you so different.”

*

You opened your eyes in a jolt, heart beating as the thunderous rain outside. You were back in your room at the Hospital, sitting on your bed, tucked in your warm emerald-green covers, during a peaceful night. You were safe, you were warm, and you were alright – and he was nowhere to be seen.

Furrowing your brows and taking one of your hands to your heart, you started breathing a little more calmly, trying to ground back into reality.

Since the day you two defeated the Hell Puppeteer, you kept having nightmares like that: seeing yourself, watching your feeble hands try – and constantly fail – mending your heart. It was the first time you hinted at giving up, though.

And you wouldn’t lie: you could feel it in your bones, in the stretch of your skin, in the weight of your flesh… You were tired. For so long, you had been fighting and avoiding any kind of help, any kind of relationships, any kind of support. You only had Margie and the Hospital staff – but even then, you wouldn’t allow too much closeness.

There was something missing inside of you. A piece of your heart, your own soul, that needed to be filled. You could try to keep going as much as you wanted, but you knew… Somewhere in the road, your knees would falter and you’d need someone to lean on.

But there was no one. As always, you were alone.

With a deep sigh, you wrapped yourself around your blankets and closed your eyes once more – maybe the warmness of the bed could keep those feelings at bay… At least for the moment.

As you drifted into sleep, right in the lands between, almost awake but with a step in the land of dreams, you could swear you heard a whisper in the wind.

As long as our spirit does not, it does not matter if our bodies give out.

**

“I’m telling you, he won’t be that difficult to find!” Lady’s voice had a little fun in it as you just rolled your eyes in response.

“He better be nice. If he isn’t, I’m leaving all the work to him.” You had one of your hands in your pocket, standing inside a phone booth, looking out the street during that foggy night. “Honestly, if I didn’t owe you, there would be no job to get me out of bed in a night like this.”

“Well, that serves as a lesson to both of you.” She laughed back as you only sighed in a lack of hope. You would never borrow money from Lady again – that woman was ruthless. “Besides, I’m also workin’ tonight, if that makes you feel better.”

“Yeah, I bet you chose the better job.” Of course, you had to complain.

“Of course I did.” And the way she almost sang the answer back to you made you sure she was winking back. “Ok, remember: white hair, blue eyes, red clothes, black boots, red long coat. There’s no way you’re not gonna recognize him.”

“Yeah, man likes his red, I’ll give him that…” You shook your head, already hearing Lady messing with her guns on the other side of the line. “When this job is done, we’re square, right?”

“Yeah! I’ll keep my word on that! Are you doubting me?”

“No, just checking if we’re on the same page.” You smiled a little. “Have a good hunt tonight, Lady.”

“You too, y/n! Talk to ya later!”

With a deep breath, you hanged up the phone. Stepping outside the phone booth, you kept both of your hands in your black long coat’s pockets, waiting for Lady’s friend to appear.

You had met Lady during a routine job. Both of you were good with motorcycles and, after getting into some trouble with some bikers who tried to know more than both of you in a bar, you and Lady easily kicked their sorry asses. You shared a drink, talked a little bit and, after finding out you were both demon hunters, sometimes you invited each other for some jobs that required more than one hunter.

It was nice, knowing someone like you. Lady had a troubled past as well, and neither of you entered into many details about that. You kept your distance, as much as you wanted to connect – maybe it would be better not getting too attached to people, especially with the kind of job you had.

“Well, well, what is such a fine beauty doing alone here tonight?”

You didn’t even look back at the man who talked to you. He was tall and dark, with some kind of devilish handsomeness to him – but he would not fool you: that scent, it was the scent of a demon.

After some time, you had learned to pick it up – but you could only feel it on the especially foul ones. Those were tricky and dangerous, even for you.

“Nothing that concerns you.” With those words, you finally looked back at him. His dark brunette hair dripped around his face like water, his enchanting eyes doing its best to lure you in; but there was something off with his slippery smile. “Hit the road.”

“It might be dangerous for someone like you to be outside in the dark.” He wasn’t fazed by your sharp words, offering his hand in return. “There’s a club nearby. Come, I’ll buy you a drink.”

“You may have heard them the first time.” Another voice cut the man’s words in half. He turned around and you looked over the man’s shoulders – finding a tall figure standing behind him, quite relaxed, but with a sharp set of sky-blue eyes underneath his silver hair. “Hit the road.”

You allowed a small smile to cover your lips. Red clothes, black boots, red coat. Indeed, you couldn’t mistake Lady’s friend with anyone else in this world.

The man tried to win a stare contest, but he soon averted the gaze of Lady’s friend. Mumbling something you couldn’t quite understand, he kept walking down the street, faster than you imagined he would. After a few seconds, you looked back at the man standing in front of you – sporting a smart smile on his playful lips.

“You’re Lady’s friend, right?” You finally asked and he nodded in return.

“You’re deep in debt with her too, huh?”

“I wouldn’t say deep in debt. It was a one-time thing.” You pointed out, picking up a big black case on the ground by your side and walking alongside him. You noticed he carried a guitar case on his back, which made you giggle to yourself. “How about you?”

“I’m pretty doomed. The woman has no mercy.”

“If she ever gets tired of being a hunter, she could easily become a loan shark.” Your remark made him laugh a bit – not too loud: you didn’t want to make the man who talked to you earlier realize you were following him.

After all, you had to know where that club was.

“Well, she certainly has the talent to do so.” He glanced back at you, slowly taking in your appearance. Human, yes, but cold. Almost like someone he knew. “I’m Dante.”

“I’m y/n.” You didn’t seem to realize he was watching, though. “She briefed you on this, right?”

“Yeah. People go missin’ after a mysterious man picks them up on the streets, probably offering them something.” Dante sighed as if he had heard it a thousand times. “They always seem like happy couples, until the people go missin’, never to be seen again.”

“Yeah. I think you helped me dodge a bullet with that one.” You discretely pointed at the man walking in the distance, who seemed to be looking for something… Hunting.

“Always glad to be of help.” He joked back, adjusting the guitar case he carried on his back. “Did you bring your work stuff?”

“Yes. Right here.” You raised the case you carried, showing him the careful silver embroidery. You had learned that with Margie and, as she got older, she enjoyed embroidering your clothing as she rested on her chair. “I guess we stole each other’s ideas.”

“Huh, guess we did.” Dante glanced quickly at his guitar case. “What’s yours, though? I’ve never seen anything like that.”

“It’s a cello case. They’re sturdy and can carry a good number of things.” You smiled back, seeing as he raised his brows. “I don’t play cello, though. Can you play the guitar?”

“Eh…” Dante shrugged, dismissing your question. You didn’t know if it was because he didn’t know how to play it or if he didn’t believe he could play well.

He did know a thing or two, though. When he was younger, Dante would sit with an old guitar with some broken strings and try to play the songs he heard on his favorite records. He would never say he knew how to play the guitar, because he never learned it properly – but he did know enough to have his fun. And that was enough for him.

“Hey, look.” He nodded towards the man in front of you, turning your attention back to the mission at hand.

The man talked to another man on the street – a young guy who looked like he had been stood up by his date around a bar. The man offered him his coat, which the guy accepted with a dazzled smile – demons could be quite alluring, especially to unsuspecting humans.

The man offered his hand – and the guy took it. They entangled their arms and started walking on the street, talking as if they were a long-wedded couple. You and Dante just exchanged looks and followed them without a word: sewing through streets and dark alleys, your steps took you to a set of dimly lit stairs on another pathway, leading to a door with a small pink neon sign above it.

The Devil’s Den.

“Huh, who would’ve known. Demons got sense of humor.” Dante mumbled back to you, making you muffle a giggle while the man and his doomed date exchanged a few words at the door and were allowed into The Devil’s Den.

“So… What do you think? A strip club?”

“Well, they should’ve known the Love Planet is the best place in town.” Dante took a deep breath, looking back at you. “Ready to get to work?”

“Always.” Your words were sharp and certain, a little cold even. Dante furrowed his brows, as he recognized something inside you he thought he had lost forever.

Keeping those thoughts for some other time, Dante put one of his arms around your shoulders and both of you went down the stairs in the shady alley, towards the doors of The Devil’s Den.

Three knocks, followed by two fast ones. You heard the man doing that and it worked: the doors opened, but another man stood before you – ready to get rid of any inconveniences in the club.

“I have never seen your faces before. Are you new…?”

“We’re here to play tonight.” Dante kept his serious expression, but held the man’s gaze with no issue. Once again, it was a stare contest the other one was doomed to fail from the start: Dante apparently had an ungodly way of breaking demons with just one look.

Like someone else you met, a long, long time ago.

“Hmmm…” The man looked at both of your instrument cases, apparently somewhat convinced. “Who hired you?”

“John. You can ask him if you want to, but he is going to be furious if his main act tonight gets delayed by security.” You added with a slight nonchalant tone, but the threat cutting like a sharp blade.

The man seemed to shiver right away. Stepping aside, he showed you the way inside the club.

“Apologies. Welcome to The Devil’s Den.”

“Thank you.” You had a convinced smile on your lips and the posture of a royal as you walked in, still protected by Dante’s arm.

“Who’s John…?” Dante finally asked as you were far enough for the man not to hear you.

“I have no idea. I just threw a common name in and just went with it.” You mumbled back, making him laugh for the first time that night.

“Now that was a good one!” He pulled you closer, though: that place reeked of demons and, if he was right, you were one of the very few humans in there that night. “I’m definitely gonna steal that!”

“Be my guest.” You hummed a laugh in return, scanning the club.

Indeed, when the fight began… It was going to be showtime.

**

To be continued...

[eponastory]

Omg this made my heart bleed when I wrote this...

Putting her hand on the iron handle, she pulled one side of the doors open. A blast of cold air hit her in the face before she stepped outside into the courtyard. Standing in the middle next to the fire was a figure. It was a man with his back facing her. His broad shoulders were cloacked by the blue jacket he wore, and the sword on his back gave her a clue as to where he was from. His hood was up concealing the color of his hair, but she already knew. She stopped when the door slammed shut behind her. The sound, though muffled a little by the snow falling around them, drew his attention.

Her heart sped up as the man in front of her slowly turned around. His blue eyes peered out from underneath his hood, making Anna's heart almost stop once again. She knew those eyes intimately as they had stared up at her once before. He did not say anything, only lowered his hood to reveal his white hair. Anna closed her eyes, trying to keep the tears from forming in her eyes.

He was here. Right in front of her after twenty-four years of being without him. She opened her eyes again to see him in the light reflected from the snow around them.

Her son.

Alive and every bit of what she imagined him to be.

Her hands went to her mouth to stop the sobs from coming out, but it was the tears that were let loose. The tears that she kept bottled up for years after she became Matron. The tears she reserved for him alone.

The question was... did he know who she was?

I can just imagine the snow flying around Nero with the fire behind him as Anna is looking at him. Ugh... such a tear jerker moment there.

This excerpt comes from 'Do I Wait For Time to Do What It Does' and won't be published until I finish with the first story in the series.

[m00nz-writes]

yes i am listening exclusively to BVB while writing this fic. it is causing me to make the chapters so much more angsty than i intended and i fucking love it. if i have to cry then so does everyone else.

[laughroditee]

Hello. My name is Laughroditee, and I am just a silly little tart on the internet. I like to write and draw stupid things for my own amusement and/or to exorcise my demons. 

This is my NSFW sideblog, and as such, minors should not be here. If you interact with my blog or my work and are a minor, know you are going against my wishes. 18+ only!

My SFW stuff is on my main blog, @momokeen, and most of my fanart will be reblogged from there. (Sometimes, I just post it here or as responses in reblogs because I am my own lord and master.) All likes and asks will be from my main blog, but reblogs and comments will be from here.

I am also on AO3 under the same name (laughroditee).

🤡 What to expect:

Silliness, angst, fluff, some smut, and some horror. I aim to keep my fandom experience silly-funny because I am here to have a good time. That being said, I also love a good emotionally scarring fic. So think of candy-coated psychic damage, I guess. That's the vibe here.

I write canon x reader AND canon x OC because making characters, figuring out their psychology, and then breaking them apart is one of my favorite things to do. 

At this time, I write gender-neutral!Reader, afab!Reader, or female!Reader if I’m doing a x Reader fic. 

🤡 Fandoms I like:

Call of Duty, Devil May Cry, Dragon Age, Stardew Valley, Fallout: New Vegas, (and more)

🤡 Currently, I write for:

The COD fandom

🤡 And draw for:

The COD fandom

My Works

Content warnings will always be listed before the meat of the text, so please read those.

🟢 Fluff

“You're Coming With Me” - Simon Riley finds a kitten. (My first fanfic.)

Simon has a rat (Drabble or something? Headcanon?)

🟡 PG-13

"Repossessed" trailer script ft. necromancer!Graves - Phillip Graves offers to resurrect a loved one... for a price.

Cowboy Price imagine (PG-13 for suggestive themes)

“Best friend!Soap / Roommate!Soap x gender-neutral!Reader x Gaz” (no title for this yet) - You and Johnny bicker like children, and he's surprised to hear you're going on a date with Kyle.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

"Queen Behavior" - short fic about little Simon witnessing his father abusing his mother (read the warnings)

🔴 18+ MDNI

“Your Ghost” (female OC x Ghoap, features MCD. This is an exploration of grief, trauma, and healing.) - An American tarot reader finds herself inextricably linked to John MacTavish, whose ghost needs a favor from her before he can rest.

Part 1 - Knight of Swords Part 2 - XIII Death Part 3 - Three of Swords Part 4 - A Love That Bleeds Part 5 - First Contact Part 6 - Death at the Door

Headcanons

Weird Domestic Habits of the 141

TF141 and their favorite ASMR types (with links!)

Simon is a penguin

Analyses

Closer!Price analysis

⚠️ WIPs

Closer

Buried Alive

Your Ghost, Ch. 4 - A Love That Bleeds 

Priest Soap

Random Poetry

"My Heart You Have/ And Yours I Crave"

Nocturne

Fanart

“Lt., let’s take a photo together!” 📸

Magical Boy Soap

Magical Boy Soap in the style of “The Rose of Versailles”

My COD OC Jesse “Jester” Donovan (kind of a shitpost but…)

Captain Price doodle wearing an elephant trunk g-string, and proof that I made it.

Tags (under construction)

Personal stuff is tagged under #laughroditee rambles

Asks are tagged as #ask laughroditee 

And works I've created are tagged with #laughroditee

Unless it’s fanart, then that is tagged under #momokeen*

*working on updating tags...

[kurumeuruki]

This is just a list of things I posted here so things r organized and such

COMMISSION CLOSED!

Commission site: https://vgen.co/Kurume_Uruki

OTHER SOCIALS

Carrd Profile Youtube | Twitter/X | BlueSky | Itch.io

MAIN TAGS

Kuru's Mailbox | My Art | Comics | Animatics | Sketches | Fanfics | Idea Dump

SHIMEJIS CREATED BY ME

P5 Joker | P5 Goro Akechi

FANDOMS v

MY OC STUFF

PERSONA 5

DEVIL MAY CRY

LIES OF P <- This is a different account

LOUT OF THE COUNT'S FAMILY

BEN 10

wow, such empty

ART SUMMARIES

2023

[drak0nis]

im just some person on the internet I like lots of things and this tumblr is reblog heavy

no dni lists or anything here. I am 30 or 40 years old and don't have time for that. i just block anyone with vibes I disagree with freely and unannounced

fic posting will be tagged as "#(title) dot fanfic" so you can muffle them or mute them or whatever

aside from here, i am fairly active in a few other places. I also have a side tumblr I plan to start using, for more of my own posting and less Silliness, which you can find here. Expect fic posting and hobby posting, and lots of fountain pens.

Fics in progress (only posted to ao3):

Sulphur and Starlight: long multichapter fic set after the events of Devil May Cry 5, following Nero with major roles for Nico and Kyrie as well. Some strange things start happening in Fortuna, and it's up to him to figure it out, but, despite what he thinks, he isn't alone. Mostly Gen and plot-focused, but rated Explicit for occasional indulgences by the main couple as well as a lot of raunchy humour from one Nicoletta Goldstein, a fair bit of violence and some potentially upsetting subject matter. Actively being worked on and posted.

Picking up the Pieces: the events of Persona 4 from the alternating perspectives of Kanji and Naoto. Mostly Gen slow burn into some shipping, lots of missing scenes. Rated M for violence and suggestive (but not explicit) content. I have been writing this on and off since 2012. Though still not finished, it's getting close. It's on hiatus as I decide exactly how I want to finish it, and as I work on other projects to curb burnout.

[akashadarkblade]

Fanfic Tag Game

Thank you so much for the tag, @krankittoeleven ! I can’t remember if I’ve done this before, but here we go lol

1: How many fics do you have on AO3? 14

2: What’s your total AO3 word count? 38,116

3: What fandoms do you write for?

On AO3, I have fics for Assassin's Creed, Murdered: Soul Suspect, The Evil Within, and The Last of Us. But I have WIPs for a variety of fandoms including Devil May Cry, Resident Evil, The Legend of Zelda, and - most recently - the Texas Chainsaw Massacre Game.

4: What are your top five fics by kudos?

Bloodied Axes and Blooming Flowers, Page Turner, Papa Wolf, Healing Hearts, and Dozing. (though fair warning, 4 of the 5 are REALLY OLD)

5: Do you respond to comments?

I try to respond to all of them, but I also have ADHD and social anxiety so there are times where I don't or I forget.

6: What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Of a posted fic, probably Two Days or No Happy Endings.

7: What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Probably Page Turner. it's nothing but fluff.

8: Do you get hate on fics?

No, thankfully. (not yet, at least lol)

9: Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I do, though I keep most of it to myself. As for what kind, it varies from pretty tame, vanilla sex to incredibly kinky and stuff not meant for most audiences.

10: Do you write crossovers?

I have, actually. My most ambitious one being Dark Hearts, which was a Kingdom Hearts fic I started in 2018-2019. Craziest part about it and the reason it will never see the light of day? I'm not even that big of a Kingdom Hearts fan XD I've only seen half of the first one, parts of other games, and bits and pieces of 3. Hence, it will never see the light of day, even if I do finish it. But it has been a lot of fun to write, and I love it so much.

11: Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge.

12: Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope.

13: Have you ever co-written a fic?

I have not, and I'm not sure if I would. I would love to give it a try, but considering my track record for not getting things finished, I would be terrified of not following through with the fic and disappointing the other person.

14: What’s your all time favorite ship?

How... DARE... you ask me that. Do you know how difficult that is to answer? Especially as a poly/multi-shipper? LOL Honestly, I don't know. I have so many ships that I love, but trying to pick ONE - or even like, five - would be difficult.

15: What’s a fic you’d like to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Dark Hearts. I love it with every fiber of my being, but I don't think I will ever finish it. I WANT to. Desperately, I want to. But I'm not sure if I ever will.

16: What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue and discription.

17: What are your writing weaknesses?

Finishing things I've started

18: Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic?

My opinion is if the character speaks that language, go for it.

19: First fandom you wrote for?

The Legend of Zelda... I think lol

20: Favorite fic you’ve written?

It will probably always be Dark Hearts.

I'll tag @elizaxspears and anyone else reading who would like to participate!

[palebloodcvrse]

•──⋅⭑⛧₊ INTRO POST₊ ⛧⭑⋅──•

It has occured to me I didnt actually post an intro for myself. Idk. Its just smth to have ig.

I go by paleblood cvrse on this tumblr.

Im not going to use my real name here, so ill just go by my main oc's name, Ae, as a stand-in. im 22 (as of writing this) and I like to draw and post my original stories (one being about a bunch of metalheads solving crimes, fighting demons and a bunch of evil weirdos) plus I also do game fanart, post endlessly about my hyperfixations and favorite characters, etc, basically just what everyone uses this godforsaken app for. :P

Fandoms I am in include:

-Dragon's dogma (no spoilers about the second game pls I havent played it yet)

-Dragon age 3 (only played 3. Dont spoil the previous games for me)

-Devil may cry (mostly 5, but i like 3 as well and know about the other games + the complete history)

-Bloodborne

-Elden ring

-Dark souls

-Mortal Kombat (9-current)

Other interests:

I listen to a lot of metal. If you like loud angry shit AND youre a fandom rat like me lets be friends/mutuals! I also like sanrio believe it or not.

Fav bands (not in any particular order)

(Ik i like a lot of extreme shit but I also like non extreme stuff, im very open minded/not a hardass about my tastes, youll find you and I have a lot more fav bands in common than you think.)

Slayer

Megadeth

Sarcofago

Sodom

Blasphemy

Venom

Bathory

Exodus

Mortician

Sometimes ill write headcanons and fics. Who knows

I write/make a lot of mlm content. Ill make some gender neutral/fem content too if ya'll request it, but I wont be doing that right now. In the future I might post fanfic/more headcanons/x reader shit in general once i gain more condfidence in my writing abilties.

DNI:

Proship/minors/lgbtphobes/terfs

[skvaderarts]

Petrichor Chapter 34: Palpitations

Chapter 34: Palpitations

Note: Hi everyone! Sorry that this chapter is a week late! The last month has gone by so fast omfg! Thanks for your support on the Elden Ring fic XD what a weird thing to say lol! Maybe I’ll stream sometime so you can all laugh at how bad I am at that game hehe! But either way, expect more chapters soon! I’ll keep you posted. Might end up being the chapter for Friday this week depending on time constraints. But either way, I hope you like this chapter and are having a good week! Take care and I’ll see you in the comments! Have fun!

(-~-)

The door to one of the upstairs bedrooms was propped wide open, a brick from the back garden keeping it from losing prematurely. Plastic covered the floor to prevent stains on the carpet. It might not have been brand new, but it was in like new shape and had recently been deep cleaned. Each of the windows in the room were pushed up towards the very top of the frame, locked in place by a notched mechanism that held them there once they were pushed past a certain point. Fresh air came in through the window, helping to evacuate the toxic fumes from their current environment before they could do any harm, all the while a ceiling fan spun overhead to assist with both cooling the space and circulating the air.

On one side of the room against a wall was a medium-height step ladder, and on top of it stood Vivienne, a long-handled paint roller in her left hand. Her long hair was pulled back in a bun as she leaned her right hand against the part of the wall that she hadn’t painted yet. And as she ran the roller down the wall from top to bottom, she hummed a quiet tune to herself, more or less content to spend the rest of the evening doing this should that be how long it took.

But before long, the inevitable happened. Her roller ran out of pain. Turning towards the roller tray, she was silently surprised to see that it had ran out of the paint she’d been using to soak the roller without noticing it until now. Her mind really had been someplace else. This simply wouldn’t do. She was going to have to get down and get some more.

Just as she was looking back to double-check her footing before stepping down, she was reminded of a fact that she’d also forgotten. She wasn’t actually alone in the room. He’d had simply been so quiet that she’d forgotten he was there. Perhaps he could assist her by bringing the can over to her. The less distance she had to carry it right now, the better. She’d been going through something of a weak spell for a while now and she honestly didn’t feel like carrying that huge can of paint across the room.

"Can you push the paint over this way for me, please? If it’s not too much trouble?"

Vergil glanced over at her, his side of the room miraculously, but perhaps unsurprisingly, nearly fully painted. Well, that one specific wall was. But that was significant considering the fact that not only was he using the much darker and more noticeable accent color for the room, but he had to go around a set of two windows and, as such, had to be extraordinarily careful not to get paint all over the baseboard. 

Neither of them really had any idea if they’d properly applied the painter's tape correctly, and didn’t want to find out the hard way that they hadn't. They were actually quite lucky that they were allowed to paint in the first place. The landlord had been uncharacteristically nice about the prospect of her tenants wanting to paint one of the rooms. Perhaps she understood the desire to customize the room a new baby was going into since she had children of her own?

Picking up the can of paint effortlessly, he walked across the room in only a few steps, his long legs making quick work of the square footage at their disposal. The room wasn’t small, but it was huge, either. He then refilled the tray for her and sat the can down for her, available when she needed to refill it. He then gestured towards the roller, noticing a spot she was planning to go back to that was quite high up.

"I can do better than that. Can you hand me your roller?” He asked as he looked over at it. The spot was just far enough over that she couldn’t reach it after having moved her ladder, but the paint was still wet. The last thing that she wanted to do was paint diagonally across a section of the wall she’d painted up and down initially. She wanted this to look as smooth as possible. Like one of those magazines with the lovely interiors that she flipped through from time to time.

Vergil patched the section that she’d missed with an ease that made her admittedly slightly jealous of her partner’s height. She wasn’t short but Vergil… well. Yea. He then handed her the paint roll back before giving her a soft look, seemingly wondering or noticing something that she didn’t say out loud.

"Aw, thank you! That does make things a bit easier for me, even if you didn't need to do that for me." Vivienne said with a soft smile as she leaned over slightly to give him a kiss on the cheek. He stayed still and allowed this despite the slight dilation of his pupils indicating that he might be worried that she could fall. The ladder was stable but it probably didn’t appreciate all this sideways movement.

"If you're going to stand on that ladder, I'd prefer you make as few trips up and down it as possible." He said softly, looking down at the ladder on the floor. He then gently placed his index finger underneath her chin, allowing his thumb to rest on the small space between her chin and her bottom lip. He then leaned forward and placed a kiss upon her forehead, not needing to tiptoe to reach her due to her position on the ladder. She blushed and rubbed the back of her neck between her ear and her hairline as he nodded and retreated to the other side of the room to relocate what few tools he needed to the opposite side of the room nearest to the doorway. He would be painting his side the same color as her wall, the only different colored wall being the one with the windows that he’s just done. It was an emerald green while the rest of the room was a lovely silverish celadon color. Most of the baby furniture was going to be a darker slate gray color. They both agreed that it should have a lovely contrast and that it would be a great alternative to the typical pink and blue everything that saturated seemingly every molecule of baby-related products. It was becoming less prevalent, but it was still overwhelming to look at.

"That's fair." She considered for a moment whether or not she should bring up something that was on her mind, not wanting to seem dismissive or disingenuous purely for the sake of pride. But before she continued painting, she came to the conclusion that perhaps it was best to simply bring up what she had on her mind this time. "Vergil I… I know why you worry, but I don't want you to. I'm alright. Really I do appreciate your assistance, however. I didn't think you would be interested in doing something like this."

He paused for a moment, looking over at her. He seemed to examine the wall, unsure as to where he should start. At least they had already trimmed the whole room in painter's tape beforehand. One less thing to worry about.

"I didn't, either. But then it occurred to me that this is a unique experience that I would perhaps regret passing up if I didn’t take the opportunity to partake in it. And you did seem so very excited… " He glanced away from her and back towards the wall, his starting location now finalized. He then began to run the roller down the wall, coating it with the gray paint he’d just soaked his new roller in. They’d opted to simply purchase a third roller instead of risking the dark paint mixing with the light. After all, there was no way that they knew of to ensure that the emerald green roller was dark totally and utterly clean, and waiting for it to dry would have taken longer than they would have liked. “I… Thought that spending this time together might be… enjoyable. I was not incorrect.”

"Vergil I… thank you." She held her hand out to blow him a playful kiss, aware of the fact that stepping down the ladder to go to him would only cause him to panic. His fear that she would fall off of the letter or topple over and hit the ground was understandable. It was something that concerned her, too. But she didn't want him to worry. She still had things to do in her day-to-day life that required her to climb and bend and move around. And while he was very helpful and attentive, he wasn’t always around, much to his dismay. She would simply have to be more mindful of the risks that she took and watch her footing. That was the best she could do for now. But she wasn’t helpless, not by a long shot. And she knew that he knew that. She didn’t have to point that out. She just hoped he wouldn’t worry himself sick over it. 

But as she was considering this, Vergil broke the silence between them.

"How did your visit go? With the doctor."

For reasons she couldn’t pinpoint, her brain went totally blank. She knew the answer to that question. In fact, she’d been planning to bring it up when they were finished. But for some reason that she didn’t understand, when he brought it up first, it had thrown her for a bit of a loop. Well, now was as good of a time as any. She could talk and use her hands at the same time.

"Oh, everything is fine for now. I'm barely past my first trimester. But I suspect that things will become more difficult as time passes." She said honestly. She was 5 months along now, but the time had just flown past. Despite her persistent miserable state as a result of the symptoms that persisted as a result of her current condition, she was excited to be just over halfway done.

He nodded, seemingly deep in thought. He’d been out of town for a few days and just arrived this morning, but he hadn’t forgotten that she’d mentioned needing to go to the doctor. She had several visits, and they were quite frequent. And not all of them were for the same thing. Several specialists were involved. After all, her other medical needs didn’t just disappear because she was pregnant, did they? Nothing severe or dangerous, but they were still factors nonetheless, and as such, they needed to be carefully monitored.

"Understandable. Then the fatigue you've been suffering from is typical?" He asked, stealing a glance in her general direction. He allowed the roller to soak in the paint again before continuing to paint the wall. He was actually just about half done now. But then again, he did have a speed advantage.

"... No. He said that being tired is normal, but to the degree that I have been the last month or so…"  She wasn’t sure how to explain what she wanted to say in a way that wouldn’t frighten him, so she decided to just say it how it came to mind and then clarify if he became alarmed. But she imagined that he would be fine. He didn’t exactly have a habit of being visibly shocked or freaking out. No, that would be very much unlike him. She would be the one with a reason to be concerned if he reacted like that. "It's most certainly to do with the nature of my preexisting condition and, well, how… atypical our child will be. But my weak constitution certainly isn’t helping."

She’d know that she’d had one more or less all her life. She’d been this way for as long as she could remember. It was something that she’d learned to live with and work around in a way that wasn’t hugely detrimental to her day-to-day life, but she did have to admit that it was becoming harder and harder to do that recently. This… was taking a lot more out of her than she could have ever imagined. Vivienne didn't think that it would be easy by any stretch of the imagination, but this was… well, a bit much. But she was sure she’d be okay. She only had to tough it out a little while longer and then she could start recovering. Right?

"I wish I could ask my mother about what she experienced," Vergil said, a noticeable tinge of sadness in his tone of voice. She paused for a moment and looked over at him. It was rare that he ever mentioned his mother. He’d occasionally talked about his father, and she’d been shocked to learn who he was, but his mother was a guarded topic. She’d learned that the first time she’d played that record.

"I'm sorry, Vergil. I didn't mean to_" She didn’t get to finish before he looked over his shoulder at her and she stopped. He didn’t look upset with her. Far from it. He actually looked somewhat upset with himself. She always wondered why he looked that way when he spoke of her.

"You've done nothing to apologize for." He said softly, his tone low in pitch and his volume barely perceptible. His sorrow was evident, even as guarded as he was. She stepped down the ladder and placed her roller in the paint tray before approaching him, the man with the white hair meeting her halfway and, to her surprise, gently grasping her hands. It was rare that he did that."I have done much that I regret, especially with regards to my family. But this time everything will be different. I will keep you both safe. That I promise you."

The way he looked her up and down before settling upon her face so that he could look her in the eyes when he said that sent a shiver up her spine. Despite his tone, she understood with he meant. She believed him. She’d never doubted that for even a moment. But now her head hurt just looking at him, and she wasn’t entirely sure that was his fault. Was there too much paint in this room or something?

"Vergil… You don't need to make promises any more than I need to apologize. I believe you." She said gently as she squeezed his hands, realizing that he was having something of a hard time at the moment. It had to hurt knowing that his parents would probably never meet her or their child. He was still searching for one, and the other… that had to weigh heavily on his mind. Her situation with her family certainly did. “Your best is more than enough for me. I don’t need you to be perfect. I need you to be… you.”

He let her go and nodded as he gently placed a hand upon her shoulder, this time pulling her in gently to embrace her. He didn’t dare squeeze her, but he did hold her for a silent moment, his eyes closed as he rested his chin on the crown of her head. He didn’t know what to say to that, so he didn’t speak. But when he did release her, he nodded. It seemed that they both held very different standards for his behavior, and that his might be significantly higher.

"Good. Let us see if that faith remains after we assemble this furniture. I… " Vergil said, something akin to a smirk on his face. He looked at the boxes of furniture that sat in the hallway, apprehension all over his face. "I possess no skills when it comes to these matters."

She chuckled softly at his lack of confidence. Furniture wasn’t that hard to put together. She’d done it plenty of times. He had very steady hands and good self-control. It was hard to believe that he would do something silly like hammer straight through the frame. “It’s not that bad, honestly. Nothing to be afraid of. At least we don’t have to whittle it out of a tree or something.”

"Nothing to be afraid of.” The way that he repeated her words made it clear to her that he still wasn’t convinced. But at this point, his lack of confidence was more amusing to her than anything else. “As long as there's no nails or screws sticking through the mattress to poke the baby I'm sure it will be fine."

“I’m sure you wouldn’t do that!” She said, now slightly concerned herself. It seemed that the mental image of that was slightly alarming to her. Who could have guessed? Picking up on this, Vergil gave her something akin to a mischievous look.

"Let's see if you're still saying that once the cradle folds up and crushes them flat the first time we put them in it." His tone was far too casual for what he was saying, and something about that utterly wrecked her.

Vivienne was barely resisting the urge to laugh at this point, her face red and her head spinning slightly from the effort it took not to snicker at that. She knew that she should be horrified, but there was just something about the matter-of-fact way that he said that that threatened to put her in stitches.

"No! Heavens forbid! Like one of those old hand-drawn cartoons… " And with that said, she couldn't help but laugh. She pictured the cartoons she’d loved as a kid. The way the characters would get smashed and bashed and take the form of whatever had hit them. She couldn’t imagine that actually happening, but it was hilarious all the same. The poor baby. It was so funny. She was just terrible. She was going to be an awful parent.

"Precisely. But it will be considerably worse because this will be a real child. I don't intend to unintentionally build an iron maiden." Vergil said in a manner so falt and with a face so straight that she genuinely couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. And after a short pause, she gave in and burst into laughter. Gods, he really was going to kill her, wasn’t he?

She felt her skin become warm as her cheeks flushed and her eyes watered as she stepped back towards the ladder and stepped up the first two steps. She could barely breathe at this point, and it was starting to make her head spin and her lungs burn. She’s always thought that he had a good sense of humor, at least around her. But this was just hysterical to her and she had no idea why. Something about what he’d said had just pressed her funny button.

"Vergil, please. I'm becoming light-headed from laughter! I'm trying not to fall off this ladder and hit my head!"

Shaking his head he watched her seemingly struggle to decide if she was going to stay up there or climb down. It was only five steps, but she seemed very flustered. If nothing else, it was probably a good idea that she took a moment to catch her breath. They had a chair in the room for that very purpose, after all. "Perhaps you should sit, then? Once your feet have touched the ground, of course. Take a moment to compose yourself."

Panting slightly she stepped backward down the ladder and as both of her feet touched the ground, she nodded, clearly slightly dizzy but still in high spirits. She cleared her throat before continuing to speak. That wasn’t a half-bad idea.

"Actually, that sounds good. I must admit I do feel a bit light-headed all of a sudden. I-"

It was then as suddenly as she had begun speaking that she stopped and suddenly collapsed, her knees buckling as she fell forward and then backward, nearly onto her right side facing away from him. Only through pure reflex did he manage to reach her in time, but all the same, she had gone totally and utterly limp; unresponsive. And although he had managed to catch her, he couldn't suppress the arctic chill that shot up his spine. Nor the empty feeling in his chest and stomach or the acrid taste that suddenly overwhelmed his senses. This was pure and utter dread, something he couldn't recall feeling for a very long time. Something that he’d hoped to never feel again.

He had promised to protect her on numerous occasions before today, and he’d meant it every single time, but he couldn't protect her from this. She’d been dizzy and weak before, sure… but he’s never passed out. What… What was going on?

"... Vivienne… "

(-~-)

Well shit. Um, that doesn’t seem like a typical pregnancy symptom. Or is it?! Supposedly it is. I have no way of confirming this and wouldn’t even if I did lol! So the real question is this: is Vergil worrying himself over nothing or is this actually a problem? I guess that’s a question for later hehehe… 

[togetherhearted]

🌟 REQUESTS OPEN 🌟

As I ended up answering the requests pretty fast I'm opening the requests for headcanon and short drabbles again.

You can ask for max 3 characters.

Thinks will be sweet,things will be funny but I don't mind slight angst or spice[Not too much. My heart is weak and makes me uncomfortable]

I write for:

-Arcane/League of legends

-Lies of P

-Mario Universe [Spin off as well]

-Devil may cry 5

-Six of crows

-Overwatch [New entry]

-Record of Ragnarok [New entry as well and I'm avoiding spoiler as much as I can]

Please send requests to the ask box. If you comment here I'll probably forget about it.

Soon I will reach a new milestone so get ready for the Fanfic Raffle I will host☆

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[eponastory]

Tell My Heart To Beat

Chapter 3 - In the wild

Daytime was safe. She had learned the monster's patterns after the first few weeks she was alone. She spent most of the night in a little cave she found under the roots of a giant Oak tree. Then, when daylight came, she was wandering through the forest, looking for whatever food she could find.

This was where she learned what was good to eat and what was not. Evan was only a child. She had no idea how she was going to survive in this wild place. She knew where to find water after a couple of days, but she could not go too far from her little den. If she did, she risked being caught by the terror that killed her mother.

At night, she fussed and squirmed from nightmares. Her mother's green eyes stared at her lifelessly haunting her through the dark. The pain that she felt was nothing compared to the loneliness she experienced without someone there to hold her. To tell her everything was going to be okay.

When she first fled into the forest, she barely noticed the pain from the wound on her side. She had bled enough to leave a trail behind her. The bleeding stopped at some point, and by morning, the wound had healed itself. She did not understand how it had healed so fast, but in light of her situation, she did not complain. Complaining would get her nowhere.

The monster's nest was not too close, but also not far from her little den. It liked to collect things from its victims and bring them to its nest. Evan had learned to sneak there during the day to pick through anything useful piled up outside the creature's home. She had learned that being barefoot was the best way to sneak in, get what she needed, and get out before night.

It was getting colder, so she needed a way to keep warm. The first thing she found in the pile of human things was a bloody coat. It was a man's winter coat that was almost a dress on her, but it would do. She rummaged through the pile of clothing to see if she could find anything else. It was getting late, so she had to hurry. Evan sighed in relief as she found a pair of leggings that were probably too big on her. She did not care, as she needed something to wear other than her dirty and torn clothes. She also found a yellow backpack full of protein bars, climbing gear, and a flashlight. In the side pocket was a box of matches that would come in handy later, but for now, she had what she needed.

She carefully snuck away from the pile of discarded clothes before she could get caught. The sun was going down, and it was getting colder. She quickly put the coat on before taking the backpack and slinging it over her shoulders. As she moved quietly through the forest, she wondered exactly how long she had been out there alone. With the seasons changing, she could not have been out there for more than a month or two.

That was not what really bothered her.

What bothered her was that all this time out in the forest, no one had come looking for her. Not that it would be a good idea for anyone to step foot in this place. She thought that maybe there was someone who cared enough about her that they could at least try to find her. But there was no time to worry about that as the sun began to set.

She barely made it back to her den before darkness came around. She had managed to make a door out of vines and ferns for her little home. Now that she had a flashlight, she could actually see instead of having to overwork her eyes. It was cozy enough. She had piled moss, pine needles, and dried ferns into the back of the cave as bedding. There were even feathers there from dead birds that she had found in the forest. The roof did not allow for her to stand up at all, but it was plenty big enough for her to move around in.

Sitting down in her little nest, she placed the backpack in front of her. The first thing she pulled out was the flashlight. She turned it on and faced it towards the dirt ceiling so she could see. It was nice to actually have a way to light up her little abode. Reaching further inside the yellow bag, she found a small pocket knife and set it aside. Next, there was a small book at the bottom that was a survival guide.

That was a lucky find.

By the time the backpack was emptied, she had a decent amount of things she could use. Evan had counted herself lucky that she even found it. The monster had probably eaten the hiker that it belonged to, and that was a sad thought in itself.

There were at least two more pairs of batteries for the flashlight, which Evan knew could only last so long. She was going to have to use the flashlight sparingly. Then there was a water bottle that could also come in handy. There were at least enough protein bars for her to use as a backup on days when food was really scarce. She really thought she could survive out there in the forest by herself. Especially now that she had a guidebook.

She was going to have to go back to the monster's nest at some point, but for now, she turned off her flashlight. She put everything back in the backpack before curling up in her new coat. She knew one day someone would find her.

Days later, she woke up to a light dusting of snow. This was not good as she had no idea how to make it through winter. Sure, she knew that bears and most other forested creatures hibernated through the winter, but she had no idea how to prepare for it. She began to read the survival book at night before going to sleep. The first thing she did was take a large rock and start to dig out her home a bit more before the cold winter set in.

According to the book, she needed some kind of fire pit to cook food and keep her den warm. The pit needed to be big enough to invite air for the fire to breathe and just the right size to smolder through the night if need be. She dug into the side wall enough to create a little space for a fire. Like a fireplace. By the end of her digging, she was covered in dirt and grime.

She could not remember the last time she had bathed.

She pushed herself into the tight space in order to create a hole in her ceiling for the smoke. This would do pretty well for now. After that was done, she found herself gathering up the backpack and heading out into the daylight.

She needed water and dry wood. The water was easy enough to get because there was a small stream nearby. She could at least clean herself in the water before going to collect wood and tinder.

The forest was quiet when she emerged from her den. Evan was something akin to a wild animal as she cautiously stepped out into the gray daylight. She looked around for any sign of danger as she held her coat close to her body. It was colder than she thought it was outside of her temporary home. Everything was still when she stepped into the snow-dusted world she was now in.

With every step, she found her feet becoming painfully cold. She would have to go back to the monster's nest at some point to find more clothing. As of now, she had no choice but to hurry and find what she needed. She felt like a small animal scampering through the forest to the stream, jumping over tree roots and running silently through the ferns. She was elated as her imagination began to override her reality.

She was a deer tiptoeing through the forest looking for water. Silently on the lookout for predators as she went. Luckily enough, she was able to hear the trickle of water as she neared the stream. As she stepped closer, she started to smell the mouth watering scent of a spring fed stream.

As soon as she caught sight of the water, she pulled the water bottle out of the large pocket in the coat and went to fill it. She also wasted no time in getting her fill of water straight from the source. The water was freezing, but it tasted so good. She stood there drinking from the small waterfall as snow began falling from the sky. She did not have time to dawdle around, and her feet were unbearably cold. She took a few more sips before wiping her mouth with the sleeve of her coat and storing the water bottle back where she had it. Now, all that was left to do was collect wood for a fire.

She was able to collect a decent amount on the way back to her den. She had no idea how long it was going to last, but at least she could get warm now. As soon as she stepped inside her little home, she immediately went to work on building a fire. The book said to stack the wood in a way for air to fuel the fire. She made sure to stack it as the illustration pointed out. Then, she placed the tinder at the bottom of the stack. Taking the small box of matches, she struck on and placed it in the tinder.

The den began to fill with smoke.

Her eyes started burning as her lungs protested against the sudden onslaught of smoke filling the den. Eventually, she had no choice but to flee from her home. Luckily, the tinder did not light all the way. Evan had to open up the curtain of vines to allow the smoke to clear out the den, and then she could look into why the little chimney did not work properly.

Back to square one.

She scampered up the roots to find that the hole she dug was covered with leaves and ferns. When she had dug it out, she did not check to see if it was going to work from the outside. She slapped a hand over her face in exasperation as she realized this was her own fault. Lesson learned. Fix the problem.

On her second attempt to light the fire, she managed to get a small flame going steadily. It was not much, but it was enough to warm the immediate area. As soon as the flame began to grow to the size of the stack, she moved further back into her den, where she curled up on her little bed.

Three days later, she was collecting wood and anything edible she could find. She collected rosehip, pine needles, and chicory when she could find it. The guidebook made it easier to find what she needed, but she also needed to find a way to make a snare for meat.

The snow was beginning to fall constantly as the day went on, almost to the point she could not see. The wind had picked up, causing the trees to bend and branches to snap. She was almost back to her den when she heard an inhuman shriek in the wind.

Evan stopped dead in her tracks as the sound of trees snapped like twigs off in the distance. She looked around her, trying to shield her face from the onslaught of wind driven snow. She could feel the vibration of large stomps as the entity approached in her direction. She knew she needed to move fast, but her curiosity wanted to know what it was.

Her instincts told her different things. One was saying to run away, while the other was telling her to face it head on.

Stomp.

She took in a deep breath of cold air as she thought about what she should do.

Crack.

It was now or never. She needed to run, but she wanted to see what this new creature was. The monster she had seen before did not dare show itself in the day.

Stomp.

It was getting closer. She could see a faint outline of something ad tall as the trees in the blinding wind blown snow.

Crash.

Should she run? Most definitely, but her feet were planted either from the fear that was starting to bubble up from deep within. It was almost too late to run.

Creak.

Another tree fell to the ground with a groan. She could see the creature now with its glowing blue eyes peering out through the white veil it was concealed in.

Growl.

It knew she was there as it looked right at her. Its massive claws struck another tree as if it were a blade of grass. It's wolf like snout snarled at her while its teeth gleamed. It stood on two legs, hunched over like a gorilla, while its tail was like a snake covered in white scales. Around its neck was a mane of white hair, and on its head was a pair of what Evan could only describe as rams horns.

She was frozen in fear as the massive creature with claws stopped in front of her. It looked down at her for a moment, then took a long sniff. Then, it laughed. A strange sound emanated from the beasts mouth as it hawed.

"Interesting..." Its voice rumbled through the blinding snow. "Your blood smells like him." It said. Evan cocked her head in confusion as her fear began to turn into flight. "Run along, child. Run before I change my mind."

The threat made Evan swallow before she took off in the direction of her den. She ran as fast as she could through the blinding cold. She tripped over a fallen tree, finding herself laying face first into the quickly accumulating snow. If she did not run fast enough, the creature she had just met may find her. She was lucky to have been given a warning, even though she knew that this creature was not benevolent. If anything, it was biding its time.

She picked herself up, wiping the snow from her face before she started running again despite the pain in her ankle. Within a few moments, the pain subsided, and she continued to run as fast as she could. She could hear the stomping of the creature far off in the distance. She could not tell if it was following her, which was not a good thing. Her den was very close now, maybe just a few yards ahead of her, but she could not see well in the whiteout conditions. It was not until she ran into the roots that she knee she was there.

She quickly dove into her den, making sure to cover the entrance as much as she could with the dying vines. She was going to need a new door soon. The vines held very little protection now.

The sound of the beasts steps came close. Evan held her breath as she could hear and feel the creature stomping around outside of her den. It had followed her back. Her heart was beating a million miles a minute as it stepped on the roots that protected her. A tiny amount of dirt fell on her as it made its way around the tree. It's claws scratching at the bark of the old oak.

The sound was unbearable. Evan began to shake and put her hands over her mouth as fear gripped her yet again. This time, she was waiting for a claw to reach into her tiny fortress and grab her. She let out the breath she had been holding with a tremor as she could see the creatures feet between the vines. It was right outside.

"Hmph... hide all you want, child." She heard it speak again. This time, its deep animalistic voice rumbled through the walls of her den. "I will hunt you down."

It laughed again.

There were tears coming down her cheeks now. She bit down on her own hand so she could not make any sounds. She was terrified to her soul. This was not the same monster that killed her mother. This one was different. What made it more terrifying was that it could speak, and it seemed to know something she did not.

As the beast turned to leave, each earth rumbling stomp brought new anxiety on. The sound was fading, but she knew she could no longer go far from her den. She curled up in her nest, letting the tears and cries come out full blown.

It was not fair. None of it and it was all her fault. It was her fault that her grandparents hated her. She blamed herself for her mother's death. If she had not punched Emily Martin in the nose that day, she would not be in the forest alone. It was also her fault that her own father abandoned her when she was born. She was not good enough.

She was not enough.

After all the tears had been shed, she quietly fell asleep. Her dreams started out happy enough. She was with her mother in the car, driving up the mountain. They were happy to be free of the restraints they both had. But it all changed in a moment.

The moment of impact, Evan's eyes flew open. The psychosomatic pain reared its ugly face as she felt her chest start to hurt. She moaned as she pulled her coat tight around her body and curled up as much as she could. She should have died.

Yet, here she was alive. There is no explanation as to how she survived something as horrific as that. Her mother had not. Her mother had been crushed and then pulled from the wreckage by that evil, dark creature. Now, there was another one, and it wanted to hunt.

How was she going to make it through this?

She began to cry again. There was no hope of her ever being found by anyone as long as those two beasts were out there.

[m00nz-writes]

Lawn of the Dead sneak peek

"You don't know that." Vitale said firmly.

"Yes, I do!" she yelled, glaring at him. "Every time I'm forced to be the damn distraction, a worse being shows up and dad has to deal with it because I'm not strong enough!" she held her head in her hands and groaned, stepping away from the table. "Just this once, I want to show dad that I can take care of my own problems."

"You have nothing to prove." Vitale told her before walking over to the teen. "You can't rush into this alone, Alyssa."

"I'm not rushing!" she shouted before he grabbed her arm and led her out, closing the door. Lyss pulled her arm out of his grasp and walked over to a wall, slid down it, and sat down on the floor as she rested her head on her knees. "I just don't want my dad to think I'm useless…"

"Your father would never think of you in such a lowly way." Vitale assured her as he knelt before her.

"Everyone expects me to be this… powerful and gifted devil hunter…" she looked up at him as his expression grew softer. "I'm afraid that if I have to rely on everyone else, I won't be able to live up to their expectations."

"What good is everyone else's opinion if it hurts you?" he asked before moving to sit beside her, the cane leaning against the wall. "Alyssa, you are nothing like your father. You don't have to be. Dante got where he is because he's had to fight his whole life," he looked over at the teenager as she stared at her knees, playing with the freyed cloth around them. "You are in a position where you have people you can count on for support. Your family, your friends… it only puts you and those you love in danger if you push them all away and deal with things on your own… I should know," she finally looked up at him as she leaned against him with a sigh.

"I'm afraid to disappoint everyone…" she murmured as he patted her arm gently.

"Sometimes admitting you need help is the best thing you can do." he offered her a gentle smile as she looked up at him with a small smile in return.

[thispatternismine]

I posted 944 times in 2022

73 posts created (8%)

871 posts reblogged (92%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@ziseviolet

@proxissima

@non-bender-world

@pumpkinspacelatte

I tagged 944 of my posts in 2022

#atla - 394 posts

#video games - 245 posts

#zuko - 215 posts

#fanart - 211 posts

#devil may cry - 150 posts

#ozai - 141 posts

#mai - 131 posts

#azula - 118 posts

#fanfic - 115 posts

#lol - 113 posts

Longest Tag: 33 characters

#there are no comics in ba sing se

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Into the Fire [7/?] - Family Drama

Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender

Relationship(s): Mai/Zuko, Zuko & Iroh, Ozai & Zuko, Zuko & the Gaang

Summary: When Azula met her brother in Ba Sing Se & told him he could come home, he believed her, even though she had made this exact offer before. This time there was no loose-lipped Captain to give the game away, & he was brought back to the Fire Nation not as a hero, but in chains. When he is dragged from his cell months later, he expects to be facing his execution, not his coronation.

Chapter 1: A Decision is Made

Chapter 2: Preparations & Discoveries

Chapter 3: A Public Spectacle

Chapter 4: Prison Break, But Legally

Chapter 5: Casually Suggesting Treason

Chapter 6: Confused Hakoda

Chapter 7: Family Drama

Extract:

Ozai sat slumped against the wall of his cell, too exhausted to do anything else. (Weak, so weak…) He felt drained, empty, the void where his inner flame had once been clawing at him.

He had lost everything. His power, his throne, even his firebending, even his strength. And soon, probably, his life. The Avatar was clearly intent on Iroh being Firelord, judging by the gloating comments of his friends as they had hauled their prisoner onto an airship, and by now the coronation must be over.

(There was something in his hair. Rotten fruit, he realised, from Ba Sing Se. The Avatar’s little band had of course needed to collect the new Firelord and take him to his coronation. And they had made sure to show their prisoner off while they were there, just to underscore his humiliation.)

When a guard announced that he had a very important visitor, and the pathetic torches blazed stronger, he remained slumped against the wall, not even bothering to turn and look up as a shadow fell over him. He didn't want to have to see his brother's smug face again.

"Father."

His head jerked up, half worried that he was hallucinating from his dehydration (though the Royal Physician had provided him with water). Or worse, that Zuko had been restored to the title of Prince, and dispatched as a messenger.

But no, it was indeed Zuko, dressed in Firelord robes, the crown glinting in his hair.

He closed his eyes for a moment, relieved. Thank Agni for small mercies. At least one of his children was on the throne. He'd rather it was Azula, of course – he had groomed her as his successor – but better Zuko than Iroh.

A shiver wracked him.

“You’re cold?” He hesitated a moment, before leaving.

Ozai wondered if he’d been abandoned for displaying weakness, but Zuko returned a minute later, a blanket draped over his arms.

“Here.” He held it through the bars.

Ozai didn’t reach for it; he wasn’t going to debase himself more by begging. And he was too weary to move. Besides, what good would it do?

“It won’t help.” The cold was inside him, threatening to consume him.

Zuko sighed. “Just take the fucking blanket.”

[ tip jar ]

14 notes - Posted December 22, 2022

#4

The Last Firebender [23/?] - By the Power of the Moon

Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender

Relationship(s): Mai/Zuko, Zuko & the Gaang, Zuko & his family

Summary: Agni has stood by as his children have used their gifts to burn the world, consumed with despair but reluctant to interfere. When the one who is meant to act as his intermediary in the mortal realm burns his own son in a shocking act of cruelty in front of a crowd who fail to step in, that is the final straw.

The Fire Nation descends into chaos at the sudden loss of firebending, & the war becomes bloodier still, as the troops fight on out of sheer desperation, terrified that a reckoning is now due.

And then Iroh, tending his injured nephew while trying to keep him safe from a vengeful father who blames him for this calamity, realises that Zuko's inner flame still burns...

Chapter 1: Prologue

Chapter 2: Any Port in a Storm

Chapter 3: Unexpected Guests

Chapter 4: Making Friends

Chapter 5: Adventures

Chapter 6: Learning Lessons

Chapter 7: Fire & Ice

Chapter 8: Azula is Not Okay

Chapter 9: Father & Son

Chapter 10: E v e r y t h i n g i s F i n e

Chapter 11: Azula is Still Not Okay

Chapter 12: Friends & Family

Chapter 13: Unravelling

Chapter 14: Zuko & Azula Actually Have A Conversation (part 1)

Chapter 15: Zuko & Azula Actually Have A Conversation (part 2)

Chapter 16: The Council Has Spoken

Chapter 17: Island Getaway

Chapter 18: Going on a Mama Bear Hunt

Chapter 19: Fire Nation Democracy in Action

Chapter 20: A Night in the Woods

Chapter 21: Bad Moon Rising

Chapter 22: Blue Moon

Chapter 23: By the Power of the Moon

Extract:

See the full post

16 notes - Posted October 6, 2022

#3

New ATLA Fic Preview

Here’s a preview of a fic I've been working on. Based on this AU idea by @electronswrites, where Aang is found much earlier & the Gaang is formed of characters from the generation up (I tried posting this yesterday, but I think Tumblr was glitching or something? idk?). Tagging various people from the post’s notes that seemed interested: @professionalranter31, @muffinlance @gaymedievaldruid @girl-loves-travel45 @kacievvbbbb @beastlybeauty1 @shorteeby40. Lemme know if any of you want to be removed.

This AU involves some changes to canon, because somebody needs to teach Aang waterbending, so Hakoda is a bender here. (If you're wondering, 'Wait, so who is going to take on Sokka's role of non-bender warrior?': Kya. It's Kya. Kya is here to chew bubblegum & kick ass & there is no bubblegum in the world of ATLA so that really simplifies her 'to do' list.)

Ages have also been adjusted. I've decided that everyone is the same age as their show equivalents (where available). Hakoda is 15 (same for Bato), Kya is 14 (I might switch them idk), Ozai is 16, Ursa is 15, etc. I've decided on 24 for Zhao's age - still young, but old enough that he'd be super resentful being bossed around by a teenager. Zuko is already around, as per the og post, & is 1.

A few small tweaks to the ideas posted: Zhao & Ozai are bitter rivals, rather than friends. Ozai & Ursa weren't betrothed (because I figure in that case Azulon would just move the wedding date). And Ursa escaped the 'school' she was sent to while still pregnant & went on the run.

I haven't really planned this fic out too well, beyond this first chapter, a vague outline, & a few random ideas, & ngl it'll be a while before I do any proper work on it (which is why I'm just posting this preview on tumblr rather than Ao3), because I have a current WIP that I'm nearly done with, another that I want to at least update, & a third I would like to start posting. I don't even have a title.

But for now, here's the first chapter: Hakoda Tries to Impress A Girl

Hakoda scanned their surroundings as Bato steered their boat deftly between icebergs. They didn’t really need to be out here – the village had enough provisions stored away that they’d be okay unless their hunters had a real nasty bout of bad luck. But bad luck did happen (often in the form of Fire Nation raids) & nobody would say no if they caught anything extra.

And it got them out of shoring up the snow wall around the village, which was tedious work.

Kya wouldn’t be called upon to help with the building work, but she had jumped at Hakoda’s invitation, keen to get out of the village for a while.

The men wouldn’t let her train with them anymore. Nobody minded a woman having some kind of basic training, at least enough to know how to wield a club without knocking herself out instead of her opponent. That was just common sense. If any Fire Nation soldiers got through the warriors’ defences, then it was useful to have some of the woman be able to hold them off from burning people’s homes (or worse) until the real warriors were able to step in

But when Kya had started beating some of the men, the Chief had put his foot down. He couldn’t stop her watching though; he couldn’t stop her practicing the moves she’d seen on any man who bothered her either.

“Kya,” Bato was saying, carefully. “If you hit a man in that spot, it really hurts.”

She rolled her eyes, continuing to swing her club. “I know. That’s why I did it.”

“But it’s dishonourable! That’s not how you win a proper fight!”

That got a snort. “Like the Fire Nation cares about honour.”

Bato looked pleadingly at Hakoda for help, but he kept his eyes on the water, pretending not to notice. He understood that, as the Chief’s son, Bato felt he had to take his side. But she’d been in the right & Sunoq had had it coming. Maybe he’d learn to keep his hands to himself in future. (He also didn’t want to risk being on Kya’s bad side, even a little.)

Besides, he had another reason for inviting her along; he was hoping to show her a waterbending move he’d just learned.

Learning to bend had been a struggle. The only teacher available to him had been an infirm old man who’d been missed in the raids. Before he’d died, he was able to teach Hakoda some healing, & a few simple moves that didn’t require much, well, movement. But any actual attacks that would be useful in fighting the Fire Nation, or anything big or powerful, were beyond his ability to demonstrate. And that was the exact sort of thing that would be of interest to Kya.

He’d done his best to figure out moves based on the man’s descriptions, but it was difficult, especially as his mind had been wandering as his life drew to a close, & some of those descriptions had been confusing.

But today he thought he had something. Something that might impress Kya. And he really wanted to impress her.

They’d known each other pretty much their whole lives (it wasn’t that big a village) & the three of them had always been friends. But recently he thought he’d like to be something more than friends with her. He wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to just come right out & ask her though. She was scary when she was mad, & he knew from training that she did not pull her punches at all.

They found what they felt was a promising spot, & Hakoda & Bato cast their lines & sat back to wait, but hours passed & nothing was biting. And Kya, who’d been crouched with a spear, staring intently into the water, swore she hadn’t seen a single fish.

It was as if they were avoiding the area. But there was no sign of any predators, & if that was what it had been, then whatever it was should have moved on by now in the absence of prey.

Weird.

Well, at least he didn’t have to worry about scaring fish away.

He began swooshing water to & fro, slow at first, but gradually getting faster, before pulling upwards, making large waves that pushed the boat closer to the large iceberg in their vicinity.

The next step – which he hadn’t quite consistently managed yet – was to turn the waves into ice. If he could figure that out, it would be immensely useful to the tribe – he could quickly erect defensive barriers or build bridges.

Maybe then the Chief would stop looking at him like he didn’t belong.

He did his best to follow the movements the old man had described, which had worked a little in his experiments, but the water stubbornly remained water.

See the full post

30 notes - Posted September 26, 2022

#2

Playing Stray & getting the notification that you earned the trophy for the cat dying 9 times like

37 notes - Posted July 25, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Working on The Last Firebender, & was trying to figure out upcoming plot points, because I’d only planned a few chapters ahead, & even then only vaguely, & realised an upcoming plot point wouldn’t work so I needed to do something else, & the fic just kinda started taking a turn...

And now I’m at the stage where I’m like

Okay what if the rest of the fic is just Zuko & Momo hanging out...

37 notes - Posted February 8, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[corvuserpens]

The Roads That End : A Devil May Cry fanfic [chapter 10, part I]

Given how damn long it took to get through this damn chapter, I’m actually dividing it into two parts. It was getting too long, anyway. Also today is June 15, no better time to post a new chapter.

Until next year 😂

The group ran as a single file down the dark and narrow corridors, flashlights out, guns and blades at the ready. Lady and Dante led the front while Trish protected the rear. Lyca assumed her friends knew where they were going, or at least hoped they did, because although she prided herself on having a good sense of direction, in under a minute she was completely turned around. That would have worried her more, were it not for the sheer horror of being caught by whatever chased them, screaming for blood, not that far away from them. She could hear claws scratch the stone floor, could smell the rot of demon flesh catching up to them. Christ. she could almost feel their breath on her neck.

They’re almost on top of us, she realized with an ice-cold chill.

Behind them, Trish materialized a pair of handguns and fired a few shots that rang around the claustrophobic hall. “They’re too fast, we can’t outrun them at this pace!” She yelled.

Dante swore and spun around to run back to her side. “We’ll hold them off! You three keep going!”

None of them liked the idea of splitting up, but one glance at the agglomerate of monsters clogging the corridor behind them was enough to snuff out any arguments. If anyone could survive that many enemies, it was Dante and Trish. Somehow, they had to believe those two would be alright.

Lady halted near a doorway of carved stone and waved them over. “Down here!” She put all her weight into her shoulder to force it open, revealing a narrow stairwell barely lit by eerie blue lights. She practically ran down the steps, keeping her gun up and ready, too focused on escaping the tower to look where she was going--

The stairs ended, all that lay before them was an open chasm, so deep they couldn’t see the bottom. Lady halted with a gasp, but it was too late. With horrifying certainty, Lyca knew she was going to watch one of her closest friends die. She opened her mouth to scream.

Like a whip, Vergil’s hand shot out, grabbed Lady’s arm and snagged her from the abyss. In her panic, Lady clung onto him for safety, allowing him to pull her back up the steps, far from the expecting mouth of darkness. Maybe it was fear playing tricks on her mind, but Lyca could almost feel its disappointment at being denied another helpless victim.

The three took a few seconds to recover from the scare, their ragged breaths filling up the otherwise silent stairwell. Up above, the sounds of gunfight and hell creatures carried on, slowly but steadily fading. Realizing the current (and highly embarrassing) position she was in, Lady pushed herself out of Vergil’s hold like he was some slime monster, scarred nose scrunched up in exaggerated disgust. They glared at each other in a convincing demonstration of distaste, but there was no denying the awkwardness between them. No matter how much she hated him, whether she liked it or not, Vergil had just saved her life.

Sniffling, Lady patted down her white leather jacket and said: “This doesn’t change anything.”

“Obviously,” Vergil replied disdainfully. With nowhere else to go, the three of them climbed back up the stairwell. Lyca didn’t say anything about what she had just witnessed – best to let those two keep their pride or risk getting crushed by it. Still, she allowed herself a surreptitious smile of pride.

Back in the hallway, they were just stepping through the door when Dante and Trish nearly crashed into them. 

“Keep moving!” Dante urged them as he grabbed Lady’s shoulder, pushing her onwards. “Don’t stop!”

As a unit, they flew down the corridor, desperately looking for another stairwell, a tunnel, anything that would lead them down and out of that hellish tower, but all they found was more corridors that all looked the same. Lyca was starting to get the sickening feeling that they were running in circles. Panic began to simmer in the pit of her stomach, slowly but steadily growing with each step. She tried not to look back so as to not risk tripping, but hearing the devils behind them was becoming too much. She had to at least peek and access the situation. Certainly that wouldn’t hurt, would it? How bad could it be? 

She began to turn her neck when she felt a strong hand grip her arm, tugging her forward.

“Don’t look back,” Vergil urged. Lyca swallowed hard and obeyed. She no longer needed to know what was behind them; it was mirrored all over his face, his teeth half-bared, how his brow tensed so harshly she could see the multiple lines on his forehead, usually smoothed out. Yup, that bad.

At long last, they came upon a wide circle of a room, framed by a ring of alabaster columns stained by time. Corinthian style, her brain noted. They closed the double doors behind them and did what they could to barricade it using a few piles of rock nearby, hoping to buy some time. Beneath their feet, a mosaic depicted some sort of battle between demons and humans: a Roman legion, orderly arranged with their rectangle shields and their pila on one side, against the chaotic armies of hell on the other. What really got the group’s attention however, was the open gateway across the room. Lyca could just make out the downward stairway on the other side, the wide vestibule beyond them; something about it felt familiar.

“C’mon!” Dante encouraged them with a knowing grin. “After those stairs it’s a straight path down to--”

“Heads up!!” Lady shrieked, jumping back as a massive silhouette dropped in on them. Vergil swerved in front of Lyca to shield her, and Dante rolled out of the way just in time to avoid getting crushed by the monster that now blocked their path.

“You are going nowhere!” Three growling voices bellowed at once, filling up the room with such booming resonance that the floor trembled.

“Holy...!” Lyca gasped, eyes wide as she took in the sight of the giant. She had only seen illustrations in books, but immediately recognized it as Chimaera, the Demoness of Lycia. The head of a lion was awkwardly set on the shoulders along with the horned head of a goat, her black body, covered in oily fur, a mixture of both creatures. From her back sprouted two sets of leathery wings, while the tail reared up in the form of an onyx colored serpent. Three pairs of incandescent yellow eyes stared them down with recognition, hate... and hunger.

“Sparda’s child might have escaped last time,” the snake head whistled as the monster prowled forward, one head bleating, the other roaring. “But tonight your bones shall lie in the Temen-I-Gru for all eternity!”

“Why can’t these things ever be simple?” Lady complained while arming the Kalina Ann over her shoulder.

“Literally, all you had to do was not stand in our way,” Dante shrugged, barely containing the excitement in his voice. “Now we’re gonna have to kill your stinky ass and we’re not even gonna feel sorry about it.”

All three heads cackled in unison, claw and hoof clacking on the mosaic floor. “Kill me, son of Sparda? Many before you have tried. None of them succeeded. Demon blood might course in your veins, but that is far from enough to destroy me.”

The lion gaped its maw, but instead of noise, its fangs were silhouetted by a bright orange light at the back of the throat. The air began to sizzle and warp with intense heat.

“Shit, move!” Lady shouted. The group fanned out to the sides to evade a fireball from turning the lot of them into hunter barbecue. Where they used to stand, there was now a wide patch of charred, smoldering stone.

“Do you see now, half-breed?” Chimaera laughed. Her wings beat furiously to stoke the flames, forcing the five of them to fall further back in order to avoid them. “You alone are not powerful enough to stand against my might!”

“He is not alone,” Vergil proclaimed, face-to-face with the ancient devil with confidence both in his posture and his voice. “And you will let us pass the easy way, or the hard way.”

The goat head reared its curved horns in a threat display. “Ahhh, the other spawn of Sparda,” it mocked. “Are you the one who would supposedly make me stand aside? You, who were so easily vanquished by your own brother and enslaved by the almighty emperor? I hear it didn’t take much effort to break that ridiculous needle in your hands, and even less so to do the same to your frail human mind!”

Vergil stood still and stared in the lion’s eyes, unwavering. His shoulders remained square and haughty, his hand firm around the Yamato, but Lyca could see his jaw tense, paling his cheek, chiseling the muscle there. There was an intense icy glow in his irises that could send lesser demons running for their lives, yet it wasn’t just rage that she sensed emanating from his form – there was old fear hiding behind that mask of composure.

“You are weak, Vergil, the half-breed. Vergil, the Puppet of Mundus. Or should I call you by your slave name instead? What say you, Nelo Angelo--”

BLAM BLAM BLAM!

All three heads of Chimaera shot backwards from the force of three accurate bullets, and although they had done little more than recoil from their skulls with barely a scratch, the beast still bellowed and thrashed as if it had been gravely injured. Lyca tore her eyes away from the demon to see who had stricken it.  

Dante held out Ebony and Ivory, no longer smirking at the prospect of a challenging foe, but rather snarling with pure, unbridled anger that literally showed in his incandescent red eyes.

“Say that name one more time,” he growled in a vibrant, distorted voice. “I fucking dare you.”

Chimaera roared, bleated and hissed, pounding her claws on the mosaic, destroying pieces of it with each strike. “Oh, how noble! How altruistic of you, to defend your disgraced twin who would once have gladly traded your life for a little more power!”

“Yeah, he was a dick, sure,” Lady quipped casually. Dante glanced in her direction with fury redoubled, ready to reproach her yet again, but before he could even open his mouth, the sharp-shooter blasted a rocket right at the monster’s lion head. “But only Dante and I get to make him feel bad for screwing up.”

As the demon shrieked a complaint and rubbed her slightly singed mane, everyone stared at Lady in astonishment, none more-so than Vergil. Lady spared him a brief glance and a nod, a small gesture of reconciliation. Not everything was forgiven and forgotten... but it was a start.

“FOOLS!!!” Chimaera howled, finally done with their antics. “Insignificant mortals!! Traitorous devils! I will devour your flesh and send your souls to the Underworld myself!!”

“You hear that, Boa?” Corax materialized on Lyca’s shoulder as she pulled out the Morning Star. “Traitorous devils, she called us! How about we show this abortion of the universe just how bad we are?”

“I never did like her much,” the serpent, coiled around her master’s arm, replied. “Always thought she was the biggest shit dumped in hell because she used to terrorize a few humans out in Turkey.”

“Wasn’t that thousands of years ago?” Corax giggled. “I’d say you lost your touch, goat dung!”

Lyca snorted. “Guys, I think she was talking about Trish.”

“She said devils! Plural!”

“Enough yapping,” said Dante. He put away the pistols and summoned his Devil Sword instead. “I’m sick and tired of this stupid tower.”

“I’d like to get my nails done before bed,” Trish mused. “Let’s get this over with, shall we?”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Lady agreed. Thus, the battle commenced.

They spread out in a circle around Chimaera. The idea was to stretch her attention to the limit so that she would have to focus on several targets at one. This way, in theory at least, they could each attack at different intervals, slowly but steadily chipping away at her defenses until she was weak enough to kill. It was an effective strategy they had used on multiple-headed foes before.  

Unfortunately, not long into the fight, Lyca realized this beast would be a little trickier to handle. The snake for a tail was the main problem: being at the rear of that grotesque body, it had the advantage of acting as a watch tower, its long, whip-like abdomen capable of turning in any direction in the blink of an eye, thus allowing Chimaera to react timely to any assault. The four wings did their fair share of damage too, making their own wind, slowing down their attacks so they could never reach her frame in time. Dante, Vergil and Trish, being partly or fully demonic, could swerve around those blasts, but Lady and Lyca couldn’t pierce through the waves of air.

Then there was the fire-breathing issue, of course. There seemed to be a reload time between bursts, but they couldn’t discern a definite pattern to exploit. And for once, Dante seemed to have underestimated their foe. Neither bullet nor devil sword was able to thoroughly pierce the black hide of Chimaera. Despite the dramatics earlier, she barely reacted to attacks, rather acting as if she were being swarmed by flies instead of seasoned hunters.

“Dammit!!” Lady complained through gritted teeth after a failed attempt at throwing a grenade to the goat head, which merely tossed it away with a well-placed hit of those curved horns. “I can’t get to it, it’s too fast!”

“It’s the snake head!” Lyca said, jumping in a backward arc to avoid a swipe of those lion claws. “It’s plugging all the potential blind spots.”

Trish landed between them, both guns smoking from several shot rounds. Whereas the two humans had become disheveled from all the dodging and the wind blown at them, the bewitching devil still looked as if she had just come back from the spa. She held one of the guns up on her shoulder (a habit she probably had picked up from Dante).

“The wings won’t let us get close enough for real damage,” she added in a bored tone, lip pouting in thought. “We have to get rid of them or else we’re gonna be here all night.”

“Yeah, I gathered that much,” Lady panted. The three of them got out of harm’s way for the moment, hiding behind the columns and letting the twins continue their tireless onslaught so they could conjure up a plan. “But how are we gonna do that? We can’t make a scratch on that hide, let alone start hacking limbs away.”

“Every demon has a weak spot,” Trish reminded her, a coy smirk sprouting on her graceful lips. She looked to Lyca, who commanded her demons from afar to help the twins and monitor their progress, scrounging up every bit of feedback they could exploit in order to win this battle.  

“You heard her at the beginning, how she gloated about having defeated everyone who ever tried to kill her. Dante has quite a reputation in the Underworld, by now. How much do you think she would enjoy being the one devil who managed destroy him?”

Lyca frowned in confusion. “She’d be elated, I imagine. What, are you suggesting we let her kill him?”

“She doesn’t have to actually kill him.” Her smirk grew ever wider. “She only has to think she did.”

Lyca’s eyes widened. “Ohhhh.”

“Think you can pass the message along?”

The warlock matched the demon’s grin. “Not a problem.”  

She straightened up against the column and closed her eyes, reaching with her mind until she found Dante’s and Vergil’s. Her spine shivered slightly once the connection between the three was made.

“In the meantime--” Trish turned to Lady. “We better get back into the fray or else Chimaera will become suspicious. Try and act like you’re still struggling.”

“Don’t need to act,” Lady mumbled.

Trish took off to rejoin the twins.

“They’re all set,” Lyca announced. “Let’s hope this works.”

She and Lady fist-bumped and parted ways. Lyca flashed like a shadow around Chimaera until she was in position across the room. The plan was to launch a mock attack at one of the hooved legs and teleport backwards to avoid the eventual counter; however, the snake tail, always watchful, immediately took notice before she had the chance to get close to her target. The oval-shaped head speared at Lyca. She halted at the last second, sucked in a gasp and tried to leap sideways but she knew even before her foot left the floor that she wasn’t going to make it.

As big as a wrecking ball and just as hard, that hideous scaly face hit her stomach, punching all the air out of her lungs, shooting her back at high speed. Lyca hit the wall with such violence the stone cracked. Her body remained glued to it for a couple of seconds, then dropped in a hurting, wheezing heap on the mosaics.

Through hazy vision and a loud ringing in her ears, she thought she heard several voices shouting, but all she could think of was her crushed chest, the pain pounding from her center outward, the overwhelming numbness in her back, the agony of needing air and having her lungs refusing to take it in. Her body convulsed from the effort to breathe, hands clawing out the mosaic in search of a tether, a life line, anything that would anchor her to the real world and pull her out of this torment. She was flipped onto her back, shoulders held down as she stared up at a head of black hair – Lady.

She was talking, Lyca could see her mouth moving, but she couldn’t understand what she was saying under the constant buzzing in her ears. In panic, without meaning to, she grabbed hold of her friend’s extended arms and squeezed, but if she was hurting Lady, she wouldn’t show it.  

Breathe, she was saying; Lyca could make it out from the movement of her lips. Just breathe, Lyca. Focus on that.

I’m trying, she wanted to scream. Wasn’t it obvious?? She was trying but her body wasn’t cooperating!

Just as that thought came rushing, the pressure in her chest began to ease, like a weight being lifted off of her. In one loud gasp, the air reluctantly crawled in. Another one, more air this time. Little by little, her lungs opened, the wheezing subsided, and Lyca was overwhelmed by exhaustion as her vice grip on Lady’s arms shriveled. She shut her eyes tight and tried to breathe through her nose, letting herself go still, her limbs becoming pudding. Despite the hard rock she laid on, she felt as if she was sinking though it. Her hands dropped by her sides. The ringing faded out.

“That’s it,” Lady hummed in relief, rubbing her thumbs over her friend’s shoulders. “You’re okay.”

Lyca swallowed hard; her throat was dry as sandpaper. “Did we win...?” She croaked.

“Not yet.”

Hearing that, she tried to pushed herself up on her elbows, immediately regretting it when a stabbing pain ripped through her right side. “Ahh, fuck...!”

“Easy,” Lady scolded, pushing her back down. “Don’t move, you probably cracked all your ribs at once. Jesus, your face...”

Lyca brought up her hand to feel it. When she pulled away, her glove was covered in bright red. That’s when she realized there was something warm trickling down her temple on the right side, dripping off of her ear, staining the floor. Alarmed, she looked to the side and around herself: she was lying in a pool of her own blood.

“Boa,” she whispered, her breath coming out ragged as she struggled to stave off the new wave of panic in her gut. “I need Boa.”

“I’m here,” the devil-serpent's voice came like a balm, soothing her anxiety as well as the pain that pulsed onto her head, her arm, her hip. Lyca closed her eyes again, sighing as Boa worked her magic. She searched blindly with a hand until her fingers found her warm, silky scales, letting the feel of them distract her from her suffering.

“How bad is it?” Lady asked.

“Two broken ribs, cracked hip bone and skull. Nothing I can’t fix,” Boa replied, her hissing long and confident.

“Good,” Lyca groaned, sitting up as soon as her strength returned to her. “That means I can still fight.”

Lady stood up and offered her hand, which she gladly accepted. She let the other haul her to her feet. There were a few moments when the world spun and her stomach churned threateningly, but after bending over her knees and taking several deep breaths, it all vanished.  

“You good?”

Lyca nodded and picked up her sword from the ground. “Let’s go.”

To her dismay, Chimaera was still intact and exhibiting no wounds. The snake head and the wings were still attached to her body. Had the plan failed?

They were worried for you, Boa explained in the secrecy of her mind. How could they focus on fighting, seeing you lying on the floor, writhing around like a fish out of water?

She was touched, of course she was... but a dark part of her couldn’t help feeling annoyed, as well. I’m not helpless, she thought bitterly as she dove into the entanglement of hunters around the demon. I’m not defenseless. I am strong. I can do this.

Her blade was swung with double the ferocity, double the ruthlessness, double the desperation to prove its wielder’s worth. Although she was focused on the fight, her conscious took a short stroll down memory lane, to a time when she was tiny and fragile, in body and mind, incapable of standing up to the monsters who came after her every day, sensing her weakness.

Wings sprung out from her back and elevated her in the air. As if born for the feat, she soared around Chimaera, searching for a weakness, a momentary lapse in attention to land a blow. The snake’s head was fast, but didn’t expect a human to be able to suddenly sprout wings. Lyca hovered within its reach, goading it in with a snarl, sword held up proudly in her hands. This time, she was ready. Chimaera licked the air with her long, forked tongue, reptilian eyes blazing in anticipation for the taste of human flesh. Without turning her gaze away from them, Lyca searched for Dante’s mind once again.

Now.

Down on the ground, Dante let out a cry that was far too theatrical to be real, when Chimaera hit him with a well-placed slap of a paw. Chimaera laughed in triumph, the lion and goat reared up with pure elation, completely distracted from what was happening behind her by the vision of a son of Sparda on the floor, defeated, making a good show of trying to stand back up and failing.  

“First, the youngest,” Chimaera rumbled. The lion licked its lips. “And then, the eldest. How my master will reward me for delivering him the sons of the Dark Knight...”

Lyca’s focus was nearly broken by that comment. What master was she talking about? But she couldn’t afford the luxury of getting distracted, herself. This was their moment.  

The snake never let her out of its sight. That vile tongue tasted the air one more time, flicking in and out, in and out. Like a spring, the neck reared in a coil, preparing to attack.

From the corner of her eye, Lyca saw a blur of silver and blue teleport out of nowhere, jumping into the air.  

The snake sprang forward. Lyca dashed down to meet it. An arc of white, a luminous beam. The huntress pulled back her sword arm, smashed the pummel on the polished black scales and rode the momentum, rolling over the wide, flat head.

The room exploded with noise and blood. An anguished, violent scream pierced her ears, so powerful that the columns shook as Chimaera pounded, scratched and bellowed, the snake’s head and the four bat wings cut off of her body in a single blow.  

The Yamato can cut through anything, Dante told her once, millions of years ago. Flesh, bone, steel, even reality itself. A demon, no matter how powerful, will never stand a chance against a blade so sharp.

“WRETCHES!!!” Chimaera cursed. “BASTARDS!! WEAK, ABOMINABLE HALF-BREEDS!! LOWLY, POWERLESS HUMAN SCUM!!! HOW DARE YOU INJURE ME?!”

“It was pretty easy, actually.” Dante spun to his feet without any difficulties. He dusted off his jacket. “You might be a big, bad kitty, or goat or whatever, but when it comes to brains? Not so much.”

Lyca landed a safe distance away from the enraged demon, dropping to one knee. Her head was pounding. She could feel more blood gushing from the open wound on her scalp with every pulse of her veins, and yet refused to yield and leave the finishing touches to the others. Her familiars materialized to her side. Boa immediately gave her an extra boost of health that at least got the bleeding to stop. Corax flew in circles around them, guarding his master as she recovered.

Chimaera glared intensely at Dante, no doubt wishing that looks alone could kill. “You think you have me defeated, you half-human mutt? You haven’t seen anything yet!!”

With surprising dexterity, she leapt forward, claws out, fangs gleaming. With a curse, Dante hopped out of the way, but before he even began the descent toward the floor, the beast twisted around and leapt again, catching him in her talons like a cat would grab a bird out of the air. This time, Dante’s complained grunt was genuine as Chimaera pushed him into the mosaic, putting her entire weight on top of him.

“Dante!!” Lyca called out, her screamed muffled by the various rounds of bullets Trish and Lady shot at the demon. Forgetting her injuries, she ran forward and ordered Corax to aim for the eyes, while she and Boa went for the goat legs, hopefully annoying her enough to pull her attention away from her friend. She almost got her head kicked off for it, if it weren’t for her Boa pulling her out of the way in the nick of time.

“You are mine, son of Sparda,” Chimaera purred. She reared back her lion head, opened her mouth wide, prepared to spit another ball of fire--

The room sizzled with demonic energy. They could all feel it rippling through their cells, humming within their ribcages, a familiar song that rattled their bones. 

Two things happened at once.

First, Dante’s body swirled with energy and burst, his form transfigured into a humanoid devil with horns, claws, fangs, blazing red eyes, the whole thing. His sharpened hands grabbed hold of Chimaera’s burly black arms and pushed her off of him, his devil sword returning to his grip as he lept back to his feet.

Second, Lyca became aware of another presence among them: a blue specter, tall and broad, transparent and yet solid, covered in scales, wings and a tail. A demon, clearly, but one unlike any she had seen before, more ghost than matter. It launched itself into Chimaera, hitting her square in the chest with such force, the impact caused a shock wave that knocked Trish, Lady and Lyca on their backs. The demoness was projected against the wall, smashing a column into pieces and almost blasting a hole through the room.  

Scrambling to get up after such a display of power, the ancient devil roared, confused and furious, as Dante and the specter stared her down, ready to continue fighting to the death.

“If I were you,” Dante started in that unnatural, doubled voice. “I’d seriously reconsider my next course of action.”

Vergil stepped up until he was at the left of his twin, the blue apparition towering behind them. That was when Lyca understood what she was seeing – it was Vergil who had summoned the ghost. It was an extension of his power, of himself, that he controlled efficiently and effortlessly. Fascinating.

“Are you seriously considering letting this abomination go free?” He questioned in a flat, almost bored tone. “After all the trouble she has put us through? Not to mention the colorful string of insults she greeted us with.”

Dante half-shrugged, his shape returning to the white-haired man in red. “Mother always said to be the bigger man when you deal with small-minded beings.”

“Hmm. That she did.”  

The doppelganger cracked its knuckles, tail swishing side to side like that of a vexed cat. In its clawed hand, a phantasm of the Yamato appeared.

“But then again, thanks to filth like this...” Vergil’s voice lowered to a dark, deep tone that seethed with hate. “She is not here to plead her case.”

“You miserable, indescribable cretins.” Chimaera at last scampered to her feet, battered, mutilated, but still very much a danger. She shook off the left-over boulders and dust from the column she’d smashed. “Even if you kill me, it will make no difference. My master is almost ready. He will rise, tear through your precious human world and devour every man, woman and child. His army will rampage through your cities, uproot your trees, tear down the monuments to your own mediocrity. It is only a matter of time. He will make you watch as he chokes the life out of those three inferior creatures who fight with you and then, when all hope for victory has been extinguished from your souls, he will finally grant you the mercy of death and end Sparda’s bloodline, once and for all!”

Vergil sneered. “What master? How will he cross over from the Underworld?”

The monster rumbled a laugh. “If I tell you, Nelo Angelo, it will spoil the surprise. Rest assured, though. Soon enough, you will know exactly what I mean.”

“Didn’t I warn you about using that name again?” Dante said. He swung his sword back and prepared to attack, but Vergil clapped a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“Demon invasions have been attempted for centuries and never prevailed. What makes you think this will be any different?”

“Why would I tell you?” Chimaera snarled. “All will be revealed in due time. It will be more fun that way.”

“You know what I think?” Lady spoke up from across the room, earning the beast’s attention (perilous as it might be). “I think you don’t know how this master of yours will do it. I don’t think he trusts you with that kind of information. You make it sound like you’re a part of his inner circle, but I bet he doesn’t see you as anything more than an over-powered grunt. Good cannon-fodder, not so good a confidant.”

Chimaera howled and stomped her lion paws, not unlike a child throwing a tantrum. “Insolent human! You dare speak to me, the scourge of Lycia?! Eater of heroes, bane of the Turks?! My master has me in the highest regard and I will not betray his secrets!!”

“Highest regard, and yet he won’t reveal his grand plan to you,” Lady pointed out with an air of performative innocence. She tapped a finger to her chin pensively. “Ah, why are wasting our time with this dum-dum?” A dramatic flair of a hand. Lyca had to give credit to her acting skills. She would do well on the stage if she ever decided to retire from demon-hunting. The thought put an amused grin on her lips.

“Y’know Lady, you’re probably right,” Dante nodded, joining the ruse. “It’s probably not much of a plan, anyway. Demon armies, summon a demon tower or tree, run around aimlessly for a little while, then get clapped by a half-devil hunter with rugged good looks. Always the same old ploy. It’s getting kinda tiresome, don’t you all think?”

The choleric demon had had quite enough of their mockery. She charged the twins at full speed, the goat head bent down to better aim its sharp horns at them. Dante jumped out of the way, but Vergil took this foe head on, the doppelganger following suit. As one, they grabbed each a hold of a head and held Chimaera back through gritted teeth. Lyca saw the goat’s eyes widen in surprise, hooves burying in the mosaic floor, feline claws pushing forward in a futile attempt to ram Vergil down. It was formidable to watch. Something in Lyca’s gut began to tingle, something warm and pleasant she couldn’t quite identify.

Chimaera, who was now deprived of her great wings and rearview head, snorted like a bull, frustrated with her brutish, yet fruitless efforts. From above, Dante re-activated his Devil Trigger and charged the lion’s head. Around him, four scarlet swords launched forward of their own volution. The sight brought the creature out of her stubborn pushing to face him, but the moment she turned away, Vergil and the demonic apparition struck her exposed flank.

Lady and Trish continued to fire round after round of bullets and rockets and grenades, being careful to dodge the hooves, paws, horns and teeth whenever they go too close. Lyca commanded her demons and lent help from afar, her body too massacred to be of any aid in combat. As she clutched her side, she noticed that, little by little, Chimaera was weakening. She was losing speed; her attacks were sluggish, depleted. Whenever she had to stop, her neck and shoulders sagged. She couldn’t handle so many targets at once. With each new tear on her coat and every drop of blood spilled, her resolve waned. Her roars turned to tortured wails. She knew she would be finished soon.

Then Lady got too close for comfort. In all the chaos, the beast saw her within reach and didn’t hesitate to take the opportunity. The lion yawned and spat forth one more fire ball that hurtled straight towards her. Dante anticipated the move and plunged to his friend, pushing her out of the way in the nick of time, but even so, the blast hit close enough to fling them through the air. Dante managed to land on his feet, but Lady crashed at an awkward angle, falling on her left foot, screaming as she rolled to a stop. She held onto her leg, struggling to control her cries of agony.

Lyca’s stomach dropped. Without thinking, she sprang to the side to go around Chimaera in an attempt to get to Lady, almost getting kicked to the high heavens in the process if it weren’t for her lent demonic speed. Vergil and Trish continued to apply pressure. The latter unleashed a torrent of lightning that momentarily stunned the demon, allowing safe passage for Lyca for a few precious seconds. She knelt by Dante’s side as he leaned over Lady, trying to get her to stay still.  

“My leg!” She complained miserably. Her jaw was clenched tight, mismatched eyes inflamed by anger at being left so vulnerable. “Fuck, I think it’s broken...!”

“Dante, get Lady out of there!” Trish yelled over.

“C’mon,” he urged, hooking her arm around his neck to pull her up on her good leg. “This way.”

Together, they hauled ass away from the battle. When they found cover behind a pile of old rubble, Dante set the sharpshooter down against the boulders. He gave her shoulder a squeeze and looked to Lyca. “I’m going back to help. You take care of her?”

“Yeah, go. I got this.”

Dante replaced the devil-sword with a set of armor he called the Balrog and ran off, leaving the other two behind. Lyca stretched out Lady’s leg to examine it, keeping an eye on the fight through Corax’s eyes.

Lady hissed a complaint when her boot was removed and leaned back while Lyca pressed her fingers along her leg from the knee down. She let out a yelp when the warlock reached her ankle.

“I don’t feel any fractures,” Lyca concluded. “Doesn’t seem to be dislocated either. Maybe it’s just sprained.”

“Great,” she huffed, paler than her ivory-colored jacket. A sheen of sweat covered her forehead, ran down her temple. “Just my luck. First, I gotta come back to this hell hole where I committed patricide, and now it might become my own damn tomb. Some irony that is, huh?”

“You’re not dying here, don’t be such a drama queen.”

“If it’s not that malformation of a demon, it’s gonna be the hundreds more crawling around, or the tower collapsing on top of me. I can’t run like this and you guys are running out of time.”

Lyca shot her a severe look and held back the urge to slap her across the face. Lady glared back at her, but wouldn’t dare continue what was no doubt a pain-induced tangent, caused by her injured leg and the nightmares she had lived here. Nightmares that still haunted her every day of her life, a stain on her soul she never quite seemed to be rid of no matter how many years passed.

“If you think we would ever let you rot in this tower, you are more insane than I thought,” Lyca murmured. Lady held her gaze for a moment longer, then let her eyes drop to her lap. Her lip trembled slightly. Lyca gave her good ankle a reassuring shake. “You’re not staying here, Lady. Even if it kills me.”

The sharpshooter nodded, got herself together, and looked up with a smirk. “Who’s being a drama queen now?”

“Shut up, you started it.” She looked around for a decent sized boulder and dragged it over to rest Lady’s ankle on it. Next, she requested her friend’s knife, which she handed over, and cut up the midriff section of her black shirt in order to wrap it tight. Lady hissed a complaint, but when she glanced over to the ongoing struggle against Chimaera, her eyes were hard with resolve.

“I meant what I said, though.” She insisted. “This whole place is about to drop on us. We need to bring that thing down fast.”

“If you have any last-minute plans that might accomplish that, then please, don’t hold back.”

Lady pursed her lips with a huff through the nose. “I may have one, but...”

“But?”

“There’s a fifty-fifty chance it might make the tower crumble faster. In which case, the demon dies but so do we, probably.”

Lyca gave her a crooked grin. “Between half a chance we get crushed killing her or a whole chance we get crushed before then, I think I’ll take the risk. What’s the idea?”

Lady explained it. Lyca thought it was rough, and difficult to pull off, but in the absence of anything better... “This is going to take some work,” she said.

“Can you pull it off?”

“I can damn well try. Boa, get in position. Be ready. Lady, on my signal, don’t hesitate.”

They fist bumped, then Lyca ran. Out in the thick of combat, Chimaera was becoming increasingly desperate. Black blood rained down around her whenever she swiped and turned, covering the mosaic in splashes that resembled a Jackson Pollock painting. Keeping a safe distance away, Lyca searched for her friends’ minds.

Bring her toward me! She waved her arms to get their attention. Toward me!

A flash of confusion passed through all their faces, but they were quick to trust and obeyed. Dante put himself right in front of Chimaera and shouted.

“Hey! You ugly overgrown... cat-goat thing! I’m right here, come and get me, if you can!”

“Insolent runt...!”

Trish and Vergil abandoned their simultaneous attacking from various sides plan and switched to attacking the heads. Chimaera prowled forward with loathing in her two sets of eyes.

“Here, kitty, kitty, kitty,” Dante goaded.

“Oh, I cannot wait to tell my master how I cut you all up to ribbons and present him with whatever is left when I’m done.”

“How are you gonna do that?” Trish wondered in that disinterested, derided tone she used when Dante was being silly. “Send him a letter? Or perhaps a phone number? Let me guess: 1-800-HELLSCAPE?”

Lyca grinned. Trish, you clever little devil.

Despite her wounds and ebbing strength, Chimaera laughed, a bray and a purr combined into a very strange sound that made Lyca’s skin crawl. “You think yourself so amusing, don’t you, Trish? You think yourself important because these two half-breeds tolerate your presence? You’re nothing but a pawn created by our great emperor to serve his bidding, a flawed lesser being too useless to even carry out orders. You may have been born in the Underworld, but you know nothing about it.”

“And you do?” Trish replied, her demeanor unchanged.

“Of course I do!” The monster’s bellow shook the room. Dust fell from the ceiling and the walls. “Unlike you, I wasn’t made to resemble the dead mother of some mortal! I know things that you could never even imagine, secrets you can only dream about ever learning.”

Trish twirled her hand. A chain of lightning wrapped around her forearm. She thrust it forward, hitting the goat face first, then the lion, discharging a current of electricity that made the Scourge of Lycia writhe and shriek.

“I think you’re full of shit,” Trish hissed, the buried resent finally coming to the surface.

“Arkham’s plans might have been foiled, but the Temen-I-Gru remained! Did you really believe it could stay here, a quietly crumbling piece of the Underworld, and time would eventually erode it all away? The tower was meant to be a bridge between both realms, you arrogant idiot!”

“The portal is closed,” said Dante. “None of you demons are smart enough to know how to open it.”

“We don’t need it open.” Both heads bared their teeth in a distorted grin. “There are enough left-over residues to pass messages to and fro. We have spies everywhere, operating from right under your noses.”

A wave of discomfort passed through the hunters. Chimaera laughed again.

“You really should have considered tearing it all down when you had the chance.”

“We still could,” Vergil pointed out.

“Go ahead. Bury me and yourselves here. It won’t matter. My master shall rise, it’s only a question of when. He will wipe Sparda’s bloodline from the face of the Earth, and even if you weren’t too dead to stop it, there’s still nothing you can do. It’s too late.” She snickered in a low rumble, crouching on her haunches. “You have already lost.”

The gigantic demon pounced. Dante, Vergil and Trish leaped out of the way.

“Lady, now!!!”

The words barely left her lips when a whoosh sounded off from Lyca’s right, followed by a projectile flying across the room. It whirled towards Chimaera... and passed right under her belly, without so much a burn to her fur.

“What the hell, Lady!” Dante barked. “I can’t believe you missed--”

The column only a couple of meters from him burst, forcing him to shut up and take cover. Lyca took off, beating Corax’s loaned wings at an unforgiving pace. She summoned all her strength, steeled herself and kicked both feet on the column as hard as she could. The base gave way, thanks to Boa’s acid venom, and the whole structure tumbled on top of Chimaera, too weakened to escape.

A cloud of dust blinded Lyca, filled her lungs. She hacked to get it out, waved it away from her face. She stepped forward to approach before a hand grasped her arm to pull her back, none too gently.

“You don’t want to be anywhere near that thing right now,” Dante warned, his voice raspy from the dust. “Trust me.”

The beast screamed and wailed. Her paws swiped continuously at the haze that hid her body from view, over and over, but she never surged from it. She was trapped.

And then, Lyca saw something. She wasn’t sure what -- only later would she realize what transpired.  

A series of white arcs crisscrossed each other midair, where she calculated Chimaera’s form was laying. The screams stopped. The silence that followed was eerie, hollow, like time itself froze for a few seconds, too afraid to tick on to meet whatever was on the other side of that sepia brown cloud.

Nothing moved. No one made a sound. The quiet was broken by the familiar metallic whisper of a blade being sheathed...  

Blood shot out of nowhere. Spreading on the walls, the floors, Lyca’s coat, Lyca’s face, Dante’s silver hair, dyeing it black. She tasted something foul on her tongue and struggled not to gag.

The dust began to settle. Chimaera was no more. All that was left was a felled column, broken – no, cut -- into a thousand pieces, and Vergil, down on one knee with the Yamato held out in front of him. He stood up with the grace of a feline and turned to face them, stoic as ever, with only a cut on his cheek.

[skvaderarts]

Petrichor Chapter 33: Pride

Chapter 33: Pride

Note: It’s been a while, hu? Sorry about that! I hope you enjoy the chapter! It’s good to be back.

(-~-)

Dante glanced over at the door as a few random customers entered the establishment, the little bell over the door rang to signal their entry, an innocuous little sound that he’d heard an uncountable number of times before but now couldn’t help but notice. But with his curiosity sated, he returned his attention to his brother and the conversation at hand. This was a difficult topic, and he didn’t want to indicate that he was disinterested. Getting Vergil to talk about something like this freely was an impressive feat. He wanted to keep this train rolling.

"You two were happy together."

Vergil looked over at his brother, his eyes having drifted away from the conversation and out the window. He watched as the cars passed by and the pedestrians went about their day. He was still fully in the conversation at hand, but his eyes were distant. His prerogative was to avoid this topic of conversation for as long as possible.

"We were, yes. For a time." Vergil spoke as though he were in the process of recalling a sequence of fond memories, his mind lingering in a past long since gone. The perfect combination of bittersweet nostalgia and regret. Dante could tell just by looking at him that they’d reached the point where things got complicated. "Things went without incident initially. We had already settled in with one another. And our anticipation could only be matched by our impatience. We wanted everything to be perfect.”

“So the two of you were looking forward to V, hu?” Dante hadn’t really thought about it, but he was surprised that Vergil had been interested in a child at all in his youth. By the time he’d encountered him a year before he raised the Temin Ni Gru from the depths of the Earth, he’d seemed so… unapproachable. Masked in a thick veil of what he now knew were sorrow and heartbreak. He couldn’t picture a world where his older twin would have been vulnerable enough to interact with a child, let alone a romantic partner. Whatever had happened between his reunion with Vivienne and then had to have been… 

“Certainly. Despite the surprise of his introduction, I would be remiss to say that he was not a welcome addition. More forewarning would have been appreciated, but then I suppose we understood what might happen in leu of our… creative approach to risk-taking.” Vergil pulled away from the window, adjusting his back as he sat up straight again. His inability to relax was evident. He wasn’t akin to just sitting and talking like this, but they would linger a little while longer still. After all, he still had to elaborate on a few things.

Dante couldn’t help but chuckle at that statement. Poor Vergil. It seemed that he’d never exactly had the talk with anyone, after all. Or if he had, he’d forgotten everything he’d been told. Or perhaps he’d willfully ignored it, not concerned or convinced of the severity of the consequences. Surely something like that wouldn’t happen to him. “So how many times did the “play around and find out later” method work for you, dear brother?”

“Precisely none.” Vergil looked down at the table seemingly embarrassed. Dante took a moment to register what his twin brother was trying to discretely impart upon him, but as soon as he clued into his wording, he went ever so slightly wide-eyed, his brow furrowing visible perplexment. Was he actually saying that… “Not a singular instance of that ill-fated scheme went to plan. As per usual.”

“Wait, are you saying that you-” Dante was in utter disbelief. Surely he’d misunderstood what he’d just said. There was no way that his brother was actually implying that he’d-

“Shared precisely one intimate moment with Vivienne before this occurred? Yes. I am.” Vergil could only shake his head and chuckle under his breath scornfully, his frustration with himself evident. He seemed to not care in the slightest that he was outing himself on this one particular occasion. It was actually quite amusing to behold. He had no illusions in regards to any aspect of this particular situation. “Perhaps the only thing more impressive than my inability to come up with a successful plan is my complete inability to learn from my mistakes.”

Dante considered pointing out that his methods clearly left much to be desired and that he’d clearly unequivocally failed the situational awareness check, but then he realized that Vergil probably wasn’t in the mood, even if he didn’t seem particularly bothered by admitting what he’d just disclosed. Well, that and the fact that he wasn’t clueless enough to think that Vergil hadn’t already come to that conclusion himself, both in regards to his own actions and his brother’s conclusions about them.

“Looks like you used up all of your luck for one lifetime in one go.” Dante shook his head. It seemed that neither of them had any luck in the romance department. Actually, perhaps Vergil had a little bit too much luck in that regard. Well, at least in part of it.

“Incorrect. This has happened twice, In case you’ve forgotten.” He looked up slightly as he rolled his eyes at his own luck, almost amused by how ridiculous it was that he’d managed to repeat this same mistake twice. “Although the circumstances that led to the second occurrence of this were… wildly different.”

“Actually, yea, I guess your right.” Dante leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. The parentage of either of his nephews wasn’t something he dwelled on, so it was genuinely something he tended to overlook. He knew next to nothing about Nero’s mother. That was something he would have to ask him about once all of this was over. He didn’t need to dredge up anything else from his agonized past than he already was. “Sometimes I forget they don’t have the same mom. I bet that’s one hell of a story. For another time.”

“It most certainly is. That being said, I wouldn't mind if more of my oversights and personal failures led to such favorable results. In this particular instance, I cannot say that I regret the direct outcomes of my actions, only the grief that I’ve caused them. And chiefly the fact that I could not be there for any of them.” Vergil fell silent, his regret palpable. Dante could only imagine what it must feel like to be his older twin; to have missed so much of the most important years of his life. How it had to feel to realize that you’d missed nearly the entire childhood of both of your children. To have left a new parent and returned a grandparent.

Dante looked at him, understanding to some degree what his brother meant by that. It wasn’t quite the same, but he’d tortured himself in many similar ways over the years every single time that he’d thought of the ways he should have been able to help his brother. But if there was one thing he’d learned it was that he couldn’t change the past. No matter how much he wanted to, he was incapable of time travel. But he could work towards a better future. And he wanted everyone who was willing to be a part of their messy little family to be a part of that as long as they were willing. No matter how distantly related or unrelated they might be.

“I don’t need any new nieces or nephews, just so you know. I’m good for one lifetime. The ones I have are more than enough,” Dante said with a chuckle, unfolding his arms as he stole a glance out the window. He wondered what Nero and V were up to. Hopefully, they were staying out of trouble. The last thing any of them needed right now was another demon invasion, cult attack, or Hellgate opening. Just the realization that they’d left those two trouble magnets alone and gone out of town suddenly made him uneasy. “The holidays are expensive enough as it is, and I’m no good with birthday parties. At all. If Nero and Kyrie adopt one more orphan I’m going to have to file for bankruptcy and check myself into a funny farm.”

“Honestly, after seeing the ledgers, I’m in disbelief that you haven’t.” A soft smirk followed by a single chuckle gave away his amusement at that statement. In spite of it all, Vergil had maintained some degree of humor, perhaps one of the most shocking things about him when everything that he’d been through thus far was taken into account. And Dante was eternally grateful for that. One of the only ways he could crack his twin’s icy demeanor was to toss in a joke or two. It was a relief to have something surefire to fall back on. “Why are we talking about this, Dante?”

Both of them just looked at one another for a minute or so, not really sure how to answer that question. Call it a need for answers, a desire to cut to the quick of the matter, or perhaps even a desire to just have a heart-to-heart conversation about something painful that didn’t have to do with their parents for once, but they were not accustomed to this. And yet, neither of them could say that they hated it. 

They’d spent their entire life avoiding difficult conversations for understandable and…  less mature reasons. Hell, they’d avoided all conversation altogether for the most part at all given opportunities. Perhaps their tolerance for it was higher than they’d initially realized. A lifetime of not using something was a good way to not overuse it, after all.

“I don’t really know. But it wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be, was it?”

Vergil seemed to be surprised by how earnest his younger twin’s tone and question were. He imagined that Dante was just glad that they were getting anywhere. But as he sat there and quietly dwelled on that fact, it occurred to him that Dante wasn’t exactly wrong. He normally dreaded going into personal matters with his twin. He’d certainly dreaded this conversation. And yet… dare he say it, he was relieved to get this off of his chest. His… he felt better just thinking about it. And that was something he would have never imagined to be the case. 

Perhaps this communication thing wasn’t quite as bad as he’d imagined.

“... I can’t say that it was. No.” Vergil admitted. He had no reason to lie. Pride had become a thing of the past for him for the most part the moment Mundus had broken his spirit enough to force him to serve him against his will. And even then he’d still rebelled any chance that he’d had. But towards the end, although he went through the motions for the sake of his image and to convince himself that he still had some control over the situation, he’d began to crack. Who wouldn’t? And although he’d never given up entirely, he’d started to consider doing so. And it was at that point that he’d realized that his pride wasn’t necessary for his survival and let much of it go, recognizing it for the folly that it had long since become. The crippling coping mechanism he’d fallen back on to hold himself together. 

He was slowly rebuilding his sense of self; the feeling of self that came with being who he was and coming from where he’d come from coming back. But the pride? He didn’t feel he needed to grasp onto it as tightly as he once had. Perhaps that meant that he still had it, or perhaps that meant that he’d never have it again. But he didn’t really mind one way or another anymore. He was at peace with it. He had very little that he felt he truly needed to prove anymore, and he could count the number of those things that he needed to prove to himself on one hand.

“Good.” Dante seemed pleased, but Vergil couldn’t tell with who. And honestly, he felt similarly, but for reasons that he was willing to guess Dante would never consider or imagine. Perhaps he was giving him too little credit. They’d both suffered in their own agonizing ways. “So, what were we talking about?”

Vergil felt like he’d suddenly had ice water thrown on him. Oh yes, how had he forgotten? Well, not exactly forgotten. He’d just shifted his focus and lost sight of the topic for a few moments. But regardless, it was time then, wasn’t it? He’d explained everything else. He could avoid this part of the story no longer. He had to talk about when everything had changed.

“Ah yes. That.”

(-~-)

I’m not sure yet when I’ll take my little yearly winter vacation, but I have a few chapters planned first, so I’ll keep you posted! I also plan to get to your comments soon, so feel free to let me know what you thought of this chapter! I hope you’ve all been well and that you had a good holiday if your into that sort of thing! I’ll see you on Friday! It feels so good to be back!