#SORRY FURI DEAR IT HAD TO HAPPEN

[stvolanis]

Now i know you better

PAIRINGS: Alastor x Fem!Sinner!Reader

WARNINGS: ANGSTTTT, mean!Alastor, cheating w/ Lucifer, probably inaccurate time line idk, foul language,this is honestly kind of poorly written I’m sorry, manipulation, abuse, Alastor owns Readers soul, toxic relationship, possessive!Alastor, pet names, brief mention of suicide

NSFW WARNINGS: dubcon, slapping, hair pulling, choking, forced cream-pie, degradation, dacryphilia, p in v sex, knotting, humiliation, blood if you squint

SORRY IF I MISSED ANYTHING!!!

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

It wasn’t your fault that your grave was dug the moment you stepped foot into the fiery pits of hell.

It wasn’t your fault that it was dug by Mimzy when she introduced you to her dear friend, the Radio Demon who, oh so casually, casted peoples screams for hell to hear.

Mimzy, known to drag people into her messes when shit hits the fan, had deeply embedded you into an on-going war with one of the various overlords, simply by seeking a place to lay low for a few days. You didn’t expect Alastor to show up, that damned smile engraved onto his face.

And it most definitely wasn’t your fault that you laid in said grave.

He was charming, and charismatic. A lethal combination when a sense of confidence and dad-humor was thrown into the mix. The way you met wasn’t the most ideal, especially when he basically bombarded through you, inviting himself into your wrecked home to find Mimzy himself without a word.

His smile, then, seemed aggravated. He did little to hide the annoyance she had somehow caused him, and the way his voice grew in static when he spoke showed that. He was scary when you had watched his figure enlarge, his once normal, slim body now turning into a tall, beastly, and lanky figure with protruding antlers and dilated pupils.

Dread set into your core that day when he directed his wrath towards you. His tall frame stalking over you, a hand quickly shot to your throat. Your back hit against the wall as you were lifted from the ground, gasping for breaths of any air you could possibly get.

His breath was drug out and uneven as his chest moved up and down at a surprisingly slow pace. Even though he seemed to be filled of fury and unease—he had a sense of control over his calmness to an extent. Eerily, he had glided his mouth along your neck, inhaling your scent.

A harsh groan, almost as if he were in pain had slipped past his lips. It rumbled deep in his chest, and your eyes watered as your vision began to fade. Only then, did he release you and let your body fall to the floor. You held your throat gently as you finally got what you were begging for.

“Maybe you’ll listen, since sweet Mimzy won’t.” He began, his voice deep and contorted with static and brute. “You will fix the mess she created, and restore what was mine to begin with. Your soul will be mine until you have fulfilled your duty as said.” He finished.

Your mouth gaped. He had presented it to you like you had a choice in the devastating matter, but you knew better. You sobbed as your curled into a ball, and watched as he raised a hand towards your frame that wracked with sobs. “Hush now, girl. You will be under my care so long as I’ll have you.” He ushered with a grimace as he watched you wipe your nose with your wrist.

You longed to object. To scream and yell out that never in a million and one light years would you ever agree to such a thing. Your freedom was yours alone, and you liked to keep it that way. He’d have to drag you through hell and back for you to allow that to happen, yet as you took his sharp hand into yours, it was all said and done.

A bright light consumed you, and just for a moment, you thought maybe it was the light shower everyone talked about up in heaven. The bright beacon of a light so blinding that cleansed you of all your wrong-doings, took away all your pain and replaced the emptiness with a euphoric feeling of content.

Warmth spread throughout your body, and that moment of hope ended when you felt thick, heavy metal of chains cling around your throat and wrists. Alastors smile haunted you. It crept up on you in your dreams, and ate away at the only good things you had left to hold onto.

The life you once cherished, even in hell, soon faded away till it was nothing but a faint distant memory of someone you once knew that was yourself. It was replaced by an evil demon, in the form of a gentleman who disguised plots and alterier motives with wide smiles and laughs.

but again, you knew better.

The person you once were was stripped from you, and you were bare before him to bend and mold how he saw fit. And so, he did. You became his his underboss of sorts, a quiet and submissive being who did as told. They always said behind every powerful man, there was a woman. And it was you. Everyone got the good side of Alastor, yet it was you he took his frustrations out on when the day was said and done.

It was you who endured his aggressiveness when everyone was fast asleep in their bedrooms, dreaming of a better life you knew you’d never receive.

You were his lap dog, and his favorite toy to play with whenever and however he wanted to. It was unofficial, and confusing to others, but you somehow managed to find yourself in some sort of situationship with Alastor. You were his. body, mind, and soul.

You tried your best to please Alastor, constantly seeking his approval that he so generously bestowed upon others. You chased your tail around, and ran in laps, jumping through hoops just to earn a small nod in approval for him.

He wasn’t always bad. He cared for you, in his own fucked up way. He cared in way that he would never let something bad happen to you, and would protect you at all costs. You were his delicate little flower, how could he ever allow anyone who isn’t him to inflict any kind of harm onto you? He’s a bitch, but to an extent.

He loved you, yes, but only when he was in the mood to love you. When he loved you, he’d hold you close to him when you were perched on his lap in the hotel lounge. He’d whisper sweet nothings to you as he kissed along your neck, making giggles vibrate through your chest. He’d run his fingers through your hair till you fell asleep against him at night after a particularly hard day.

And on days when he knew he went to far, his classic water works he only had in store for you would come into play. He couldn’t bare his favorite toy hating him. He didn’t know how to deal with the colder shoulder and short-answer responses from you. It aggravated him that only you could get under his skin without doing much, so when you were heavily upset, only then would he drop down to his knees and kiss the inside of your thighs lovingly.

Tears would align his eyes, but his smile never once wavering, and beg for your forgiveness. He’d tell you how much he loved you as he rubbed your sensitive bud, and wash away your worries with so many orgasms, you forgot why you were mad at him in the first place.

Yes, he owned your soul and tended to be abusive, but he wasn’t heartless.

He’d tell you he’s sorry, and that he’d never hurt you again. It’s always a lie, and each time you allowed yourself to stupidly believe it.

But the truth was, you didn’t know what else to do. You hated to admit it, but you were nothing without him. You spent so long shaping yourself into the person he wanted and needed you to be, that you forgot how to be yourself. You forgot what your previous hobbies were, or what else made you happy besides him. Your world revolves around him, and without him, it felt like your world was coming to an exaggerated end.

So, you put up with it. Each and every time.

It wasn’t till today, the day of Charlie’s fathers arrival to the grand hotel Alastor managed to put together and run, that you’d ever seen him so genuinely with any sort of nerves.

The moment Lucifer walked in, in all his glory, Alastors personality took a flip. He went toe to toe with the ruler of Hell himself, all because he was afraid of someone who he knew had more power than him. But Alastor wasn’t a weak man, not at all, and that’s why he made it his mission to piss off Lucifer as much as he could.

You’d never seen him this way before. With you? Yes, but with other people? Never. He was cunning and every word he spat at Lucifer dripped with malice and confidence. Alastor knew he couldn’t beat him with power, so he hit him where he knew it would hurt. His family. Specifically, the only one he had left.

What Alastor didn’t expect, was for Lucifer to become completely and utterly smitten with you. From the moment he laid his eyes on you, he’s been all smiles and giggles with you.

He listened when you talked, even the little small words or sentences no one cared to listen to. His lips against the top part of your hand when you first met was the only thing that circled your mind for days. His lips were plush and warm, soft and tender. It was a contrast to the kisses Alastor left you of pity and forgiveness.

He was sweet, and undeniably handsome. He made you feel ways you’d never felt before. He made you feel like you had a choice. A voice that wouldn’t be spoken over and genuinely listened to. He was charismatic, in a way like Alastor, but it was real. His smiles were real, as were the sweet nothings he said to you.

For weeks, you snuck around with Lucifer. At night, when Alastor was fast asleep, you’d sneak out from under his watchful arm and find your way to Lucifers room. His arms were more welcoming, and warm. His kisses sweeter than honey and his love as gold and bright as they come.

His voice was soft, and vibrant as he hummed against your ear. The fingers that raked through your hair were gentle and soothing, calmed you to your slumbers that comforted you through the night. His smell was intoxicating; cider and musk, like an orchid full of ripe apples. The two rosey spots on his cheek shined in hue when you’d enter the room.

I didn’t take long for Alastor to notice. He want a dumb and oblivious man. He was a ruthless overlord who couldn’t afford to look past the little things. He noticed the stares that the two of you sent when in a room full of people. The lingering touches no one else noticed when you brushed passed each other.

And most of all, they way you’d slip from his grasp in the dark of the night like he was stupid.

He knew, of course. He knew the whole time. And he let you let yourself believe that there was any other choice besides him. He allowed you, from the goodness of his heart, to feel a speck of the freedom you longed for. He let you grasp it and cradle it with all your might, just to draw you back in by the chains that shackled you to him for eternity.

He liked knowing that he controlled you. It fueled the god complex he had, knowing that no matter what you tried to do, you’d always be his. His to love, his to fuck, his to torment.

He mocked you for it, too. Rubbing it in your face that you were chained to him for as long as you’d live in hell. Suicide crossed your mind a few times, the only way you saw yourself out of it—yet, you knew that no matter what life you had next, you’d still always belong to him in some way, shape, or form.

You should’ve known better. Should’ve known that you could never be happy. Should’ve known that Alastor knew the whole time. Yet you were naive enough to think you were smart enough to go behind his back with a person he detested the most. The one person who could easily kill him with a blink of an eye.

Alastor would never say it out loud, because he knew deep down that he would never win against Lucifer. So, he did what he does best, and he took it out on you.

Tonight wasn’t supposed to be any different from any of the other nights you left Alastors bedroom.

You lay in another man’s arms, his chest rising and falling beneath you as soft breaths slipped past his pale lips. Lucifer looked especially beautiful like this. His white skin glistening in the dull lighting of the room, and his streaky blonde hair ran through messily against the plush pillow.

You wished you could stay in this very moment forever. You’d rather spend an eternity admiring Lucifer for all his greatness, than suffering in Alastors darkness miserably.

You never told Lucifer about the way Alastor treated you behind closed doors. You knew that if you did, Alastor would be dead without a second thought. It crossed your mind a few times, obviously. How could it not? It was your only way out. The only thing that stopped you was the fact that Alastor wasn’t always like this.

He wasn’t always a bad person towards you. In the beginning, he tried to make you as comfortable as possible. He made you happy, and lively. His presence didn’t make you want to cower away in a corner, and his stare made you flush red, as bright as the color of his hair.

After all he’s put you through, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt shoot through you each time you looked back at Alastor asleep in your shared bed. He never cheated on you. The one of many things he’s never done, yet here you were, every so happily cheating on him. You felt like a two-timing snake, and you knew if he found out that he’d feel betrayed.

With that thought, you slipped from under Lucifer’s heavy arm, watching with soft eyes as he muttered under his breath at the loss of your warmth against him. You kissed his cheek and whispered a goodbye as you exited his room, softly shutting the door behind you. Your finger glided along the walls of the hallway, all the way till you found yourself outside of Alastors room.

You inhaled deeply, reaching for the doorknob, twisting it ever so slowly. Your entered the dark abyss of the room, shutting the door softly behind you with a wince as it creaked lightly. Damned this old ass building.

What you didn’t expect, was for Alastor to press against you from behind.

His breathing was uneven, and sharp as his chest still moved up and down slowly. You froze. You felt your dead heart stop as if you were alive. It seemed like oxygen didn’t exist anymore as you gaped, jaw slightly fallen slack as your eyes lined with tears. Your body shook as his hand traveled to the bed of your throat, craning your neck back to meet his eyes painfully.

“A-Alastor—” you gaped. He clicked his tongue. “Hm, silly girl. You really thought I was unaware of your whore-ish activities?” He chuckled out, his breath warm against the shell of your ear. “Wait, please—” you began, but you didn’t get a chance to think of what to say next as he slammed your back onto the bed.

You tried desperately to crawl away from him, but within a second, chains tied you down to the bed frame. You wracked with sobs and please of despair. He stood silently for a moment, watching the way you crumbled so easily without him even having to really do anything.

“How dare you.” He hissed out after a moment. Climbing on top of your tense frame, he pinched your cheeks together and watched as tears ran down your cheeks pathetically. “I give you everything you could possibly need. I make sure you’re alive with a roof over your head and out of the clutches of hells streets, and this is how you repay me? By sleeping around with men?” He growled through his sharp teeth.

His smile was formed still, but more into a scowl of displeasure. His antlers were grown and prominent as he began to shift to his demon form that you hadn’t seen since the first time youd met him that fateful day. He was like a rabid animal, drool slipping through the cracks of his jagged teeth as his body became large and monstrous.

This was it. This how your soul would finally be put to rest. By the claws and bared teeth of a monster with the facade of a charming, hotel manager. Not the way you’d want to go out, but hey, at least your were gonna get out of it, right?

Or so you thought.

His claws, sharp as knives tore through your shirt, ripping it off of your figure and discarded onto the floor. Your white lace bra on display in front of him. Your pajama pants adorned with cheesy pandas torn to shreds alongside your favorite sleeping shirt. But all you could think about was the abnormally large bulge hard and prominent against your inner thigh.

God, you hated yourself. You danced along the line of lust, fear, and hatred. Hatred for him, mostly. You hated that you loved Lucifer—yet your body yearned to be used and played with at the hands of Alastor.

The sweet sex, praises and butterfly kisses Lucifer showered you was amazing, but this—this was different. The way Alastor fucked you was different. Yes, he was rough and fucked hard—but this was his way of showing you that he loved you. It was peculiar, to say the least. A man so easily able to use his words to fluster anyone couldn’t look you in the eye to tell you that he loved you.

So he fucked you like he hated you. But you knew what he meant.

His finger hooked under the middle of your bra, effectively slicing upwards to cut it in half. Your breasts sprang free, and your nipples hardened under the tense, cold air. You squirmed as his breath fanned against them, his long tongue shooting out to lick against them tenderly.

He played tricks on you. It was his favorite game. Giving you false hope. Dangling things he knew you longed for in front of you, only to yank it right back. Killing every last good thing you had left till you had absolutely nothing but him.

So you should’ve known better than to trust his soft tongue kitten licking your nipple. His sharp teeth bit down—hard enough to draw specks of blood around it. You yelped out in pain as your eyes lined with fresh tears waiting to be spilled over. The pain was dreadful, but god, did it feel good.

Alastors thumb trailed to lower, tracing down to your stomach till he reached your cotton panties, dampened with your arousal. “What a slut. Getting off on this. You should be ashamed of yourself, darling.” He mocked out with a cunning smile. He didn’t think twice before ripping your panties off.

He fumbled for second with his pants, unzipping them before letting them reach low enough just to pull his cock out. “Now, I’m gonna fuck this cunt till I’ve had enough, and after that, you’re going to go into the small-dicked-duck fanatics room with my cum dripping down your thighs and tell him just how good I fucked you.” He growled out, his hand finding it’s way back to your throat, squeezing tightly as he lined himself to your entrance.

“Alastor, please just listen—i” his cock bullied is way into you. Long, and thick. 9 inches of pure, heavy meat sat snugly inside of you, playing with your insides. He was perfectly trimmed, and his balls heavy balls slapped against the underside of your pussy with each agonizingly perfect thrust he delivered into you.

“Oh, oh fuck!” You moaned out, head thrown back as your hand clenched onto the chains that bound you to your bed post. “Tight little pussy. Tell me, does he fuck you like this, baby?” He panted out as he watched the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

He always thought you were the prettiest like this. Underneath him, writhing in pleasure, cock drunk and hungry for him. The only time you didn’t resent him. The only time you wanted him. He cherished this, not that he would ever say it out loud.

“I asked you a fucking question.” He said, slapping the side of your face harshly, leaving a painful sting behind. You whimpered at the familiar impact. “No, Alastor!” You all but screamed out as his cock kissed your cervix.

The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed loudly, and the smell of hot sex was in the air. A distinctive, vile smell. Your body was lined with sweat, as was his, and your breasts bounced each time his hips met flush against your ass. All you could think about was him.

He consumed your thoughts, plaguing your mind. You couldn’t escape him. And as of right now, you weren’t sure you even really wanted to all along.

Some sick part of you enjoyed this relationship you were in. The part that liked to be put in your place, and told what to do in return for praises of affirmations. A relationship that never got boring, and always kept you on your toes no matter what. Traumatic? Definitely. Toxic? 100%. But, this is what you had to endure. The least you could to was learn to like and deal with it.

You clenched down tightly onto him as his hips slammed into yours repeatedly, his dick hitting every right spot, including the little nerve of your g-spot inside of you. The angle he had your hips positioned in hit it better, and he could tell you were close when your cunt began to pulse around him.

“Please, please, I’m gonna cum!” You babbled on and on, drunk on the feeling of him inside of you. He chuckled as he pulled your head up by the root of your hair, just enough to have your lips crashing down onto his. “Fucked you stupid, honey, i know.” He cooed out against your lips.

He tasted bitter. Like whiskey and old cigars, mixed with a strange tea refreshment. It was an odd combination, but one that suited him indefinitely. His tongue swirled and glided against yours as they fought for dominance in a sloppy, and surprisingly passionate kiss. One that said what he didn’t have to out loud. ‘You’re mine’. He won the fight for dominance, and he sloppily suckled your tongue into his mouth.

The kiss was nasty, sloppy with saliva dripping down your chin and a few cuts on your lip from his sharp teeth clashing against them, but it was the least of your concerns as he rested his forehead against yours, nearing his end.

“I’m gonna fill this pussy up. Nice and full so everyone will know in dues time just who the fuck you belong to.” He growled out through clenched teeth. You shook your head back and forth, your eyes widening with fear. “No, don’t! Please don’t!” You begged, on and on, but to no avail.

His thrusts became harsher, and more demanding. Chasing his high aimlessly as you begged and moaned out his name underneath him. It was then that you felt it. His cock balls deep when you felt it began to swell up inside of you.

You gasped in shock as you were stretched painfully to your limit, the bulge in your lower stomach large and prominent as he pressed against it, triggering your orgasm. Your juices flushed out of you and all over his lower abdomen, and he groaned at the sight. You clenched down onto him impossibly tighter and he felt like he was gonna lose his mind.

“Pull out. Please pull out.” You desperately tried to reason with him, but he didn’t care as he sat snug inside of you, his knot finally emptying inside of you. It was warm, and you could feel it drip down your ass when his cock finally fell flaccid and limp, slowly pulling out of you.

“Maybe now, you’ll learn your lesson. You must be a fool to think that anyone could ever love you like i do.” He said, shaking his head. He bit his lip with a satisfied smile as he watched his mounds of cum pour out of you. “Milked my cock so well.” Was the only praise that slipped past his lips the rest of the night.

He didn’t allow you to clean yourself, only letting you thrown on a pair of panties from the drawer in his bedroom. Your inner thighs were slick and sticky with his warm, salty cum. “Run along now, dear. Come back when you’re finished.” He said in a singing tone, knowingly.

A flame rose in your core of embarrassment as you waddled out of the room, the uncomfortable feeling between your thighs growing by the second. It was humiliating, doing the walk of shame down the hallway, all the way to your now past lovers room.

A soft knock was laid on his door, and after a silent, dreaded minute of standing there, his door fell open. There you stood, in nothing but panties. Bite marks around your nipples and your neck prominent with a lingering bruise from the grip he held on your neck. His eyes trailed down to the cum slick between your plush thighs.

His eyes widened.

“The fuck happened to you?”

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

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[girl-next-door-writes]

Landslide

Characters: Loki x reader

Summary: After a brutal mission leaves you battered and bruised, Loki’s protective side flares up as he confronts Tony for putting you at risk. Amidst the tension, Loki’s fear of losing you surfaces, and he reminds you just how much you mean to him.

Word Count: 1327 words

A/N: My wonderful and dear friend @iwillbeinmynest sent me this request an age ago. I am sorry it took me so long, but hopefully you will enjoy it.

The Quinjet hummed beneath you, an unsettling contrast to the agony throbbing through your entire body. Every breath ached, your ribs protesting with sharp stabs, and your knuckles were raw from the fight. You stared at the ceiling, forcing yourself to stay conscious as the adrenaline slowly ebbed away, leaving nothing but exhaustion and pain.

You had won. Barely. The mission had taken more out of you than expected, but you’d managed to hold your ground, even as the odds stacked up against you. It had been messy, and you’d paid for it with every punch and kick that landed. Tony’s voice crackled over the comms, congratulating you on a job well done, but you could only muster a weak grunt in response.

The jet’s landing gears extended with a metallic thud, and the familiar lights of the Avengers Compound loomed outside the small window. You exhaled shakily, preparing yourself for the walk down the ramp. It would be fine, you told yourself. Just make it to the med bay, get patched up, and then you could collapse in your room and sleep for a week.

But as soon as the ramp hissed open, you saw him. Loki stood at the base of the ramp, his face bright smile morphing into deep frown the moment he laid eyes on you. In an instant, he was there, his hands gently but urgently running over your shoulders, neck and face, his piercing gaze scanning over your bruises and cuts with a mixture of fury and concern.

“Who did this?” His voice was sharp, but you could hear the tremor beneath it. He was on edge, trying to mask his fear for you.

You winced as he tilted your chin up to inspect a particularly nasty cut near your eye. “It’s nothing, Loki. I’m fine.”

His jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing. “You are not fine,” he hissed, his touch a mix of tenderness and barely restrained rage. “Tell me who did this.”

Before you could even begin to form a response, Tony sauntered over from the other side of the hangar, tossing a helmet onto a nearby table. “Good work out there, kid. Mission accomplished. You’ll heal up quick, don’t worry.” He smirked, clearly satisfied with how things had gone.

Loki’s attention snapped to Tony, his gaze darkening to a storm. “This—this is your doing, Stark?” His voice was low, menacing. “You sent them into that chaos alone?”

Tony raised an eyebrow, glancing between you and Loki. “Whoa, whoa. Let’s pump the brakes there, Reindeer Games. They volunteered for the mission, and they handled it. The kid’s tougher tougher than they look. And we were a team out there.”

“They should not have had to ‘handle’ anything that will result in- in… THIS!” Loki’s voice thundered through the hangar, startling some of the nearby staff. He took a step towards Tony, his whole frame vibrating with anger. “You were in charge. You let this happen.”

You reached out to grip Loki’s arm, but the movement pulled painfully at your side. “Loki, it wasn’t his fault. I—”

“I don’t want excuses,” Loki interrupted, his gaze boring into Tony with an intensity that made even the billionaire genius seem momentarily at a loss for words. “You’ve got to do whatever it takes to protect the ones you love. You—”

“We’re a team,” Tony cut in, his tone growing more serious. “We all take hits sometimes. You know that.”

“Not like this.” Loki’s voice was a low growl now, almost feral. “They—” He stopped himself, his expression twisting with a pain that seemed to echo in your own chest. He took a breath, trying to steady himself. “They’re important… to me.” he said, more quietly now, but no less fiercely.

Tony’s expression softened slightly. He gave a small nod toward you. “Then make sure they’re okay, okay? I’m not the enemy here.” With that, he turned and walked away, leaving the hangar echoing with an awkward silence.

Loki watched him go, his fists still clenched at his sides. You reached up again, this time with more resolve, and tugged on his sleeve. “Loki. It’s over. I’m fine. Really.”

But he wasn’t listening. Not fully. His hands moved back to your face, his fingers lightly brushing over your cheek, and then slid down to your arm where a nasty bruise was forming. “You need to lie down,” he said, almost to himself, as if trying to control the frantic pace of his thoughts. “The healers should look at you immediately. That bruise—”

“I’ve had worse,” you murmured, offering him a small, strained smile. “Come on. Let’s just get inside.”

He wrapped an arm around your waist, supporting your weight as you walked. Each step jarred your aching limbs, but you couldn’t help the flutter in your chest at the way his touch lingered, his fingers gently pressing into your side as if reassuring himself that you were still there, still alive.

As you reached the med bay, you slumped onto one of the beds, stifling a groan as your ribs protested the movement. Loki hovered over you, not willing to take a step back until the medical staff came to start their assessment.

He paced as they worked, restless and anxious. Every time you winced or drew a sharp breath, his eyes darted back to you, narrowing with an unreadable emotion. When the healers finally stepped away, having done all they could for the moment, he was at your side again, taking your hand in his and pressing it to his chest.

“You shouldn’t scare me like that,” he whispered, his voice thick with something that bordered on desperation.

You squeezed his hand. “I didn’t mean to scare you, Loki. I just—” You hesitated, glancing at him through tired eyes. “I just did what I had to do.”

“That’s what frightens me,” he said quietly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “You always do what you think is right, even when it means risking your life. I’ve seen landslides do less damage than you.”

A small laugh escaped you at that, and you leaned your head back against the pillow, exhaustion finally pulling you under. “You’re so dramatic.”

But his expression remained serious, his gaze fixed on you as if committing every bruise and scrape to memory. “It’s not drama,” he murmured. “It’s truth. You mean more to me than you can possibly understand. And seeing you like this… it undoes me.”

His words hung in the air, wrapping around you like a warm blanket, soothing some of the ache that still lingered in your bones. You met his gaze, saw the honesty there—the raw, unguarded emotion that he rarely showed anyone.

“You’ve got to do whatever it takes to protect the ones you love,” you repeated his earlier words softly. “And that goes for both of us.”

He bent down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, his breath warm against your skin. “Indeed, it does,” he whispered, pulling back just enough to look at you again. “But I would ask you, dearest, to not give me so much practice.”

You smiled faintly, your eyelids growing heavy. “I’ll do my best.”

As you drifted into sleep, you felt his hand still wrapped around yours, his thumb brushing gentle circles on your skin. And though you were battered and bruised, you felt a comfort that ran deeper than any healing spell or serum—a reassurance in knowing that, no matter how high the stakes, you would always have him to catch you when the ground shifted beneath your feet.

Loki watched you for a long time, his heart swelling with both relief and fear. He had come too close to losing you today. But as he looked at your peaceful expression, he felt a steely resolve harden within him.

Whatever it took, whatever battles lay ahead, he would keep you safe. He would not let you fall again.

[bad-and-drawn-that-way]

Omfg I ate that Vox fic up! The one where he hypnotized the reader after a long fight of them nearly being taken from him. Can you do a part 2 please? Like when the reader eventually learns he basically forced them to sign the contract and they find a way to be immune to his hypnosis? He goes absolutely nuts despite literally owning their soul. He's canonically a control freak and seems to even have some yandere traits. I hope I'm not going against your rules! You don't have any posted so I just wanna ask! Thank you for being awesome! :D Don't hesitate to turn down this request. Write what makes you feel comfortable. Just please respond so I and everyone else knows not to make a similar request in the future. Lots of love!

ABSOLUTELY!! I did take this in a slightly different direction, but hope you enjoy it nonetheless! Lowkey thinking of doing a Vox POV of this later and maybe even a part three...

Vox isn't actually in this much, but I feel a loose actual plot coming together and this is what naturally flowed for me.

I hope y'all are ready for more angst... plus a cliff-hanger <3

More Than Anything Part 2 [Vox x Reader]

Part 1

Part 2.5

"You controlling prick!"

Vox ducked as you threw a pillow at him. Even in your righteous anger, you'd never actually truly try to hurt him, but by god were you pissed.

Despite Vox's obvious disdain for the Hazbin Hotel and its association with Alastor, you visited the hotel occasionally to catch up with your friend Angel Dust and give some much-deserved love to his pet pig Fat Nuggets. It was during one of these visits that you ran into Alastor, who immediately looked at you with disgust in his ever-present smile.

"Really now, my dear," he said as he shook his head in disapproval. "It's already enough of a shame that you have such poor taste in a romantic partner, but to give your soul to him as well? I thought you were smarter than that."

The overlord could see the aura of Vox's ever-annoying electric cords locked around your soul like chains. You'd been confused and his eye twitched with annoyance as he realized what Vox had done to you. To say you were livid after he explained that you'd been tricked was an understatement.

"Y/N, I'm sorry," Vox pleaded as you fumed at him in his room. "But you left me no other choice! You weren't listening to me and if I didn't bind your soul, then Satan knows what could have happened to you by now."

"Just because you don't fucking believe in my ability to look out for myself doesn't mean you get to just take my soul!" You screamed with hot, angry tears flowing down your face. You wipe at them, only crying harder at the frustration of the tears you couldn't control in your anger. You felt like they undermined your emotions.

Vox's magic sparked around him as he tried his best not to get angry and start a fight with you. He was terrified and was that much more susceptible to his angry tendencies in moments like these. It took everything in him to try and calm himself, not wanting to push you away further. His heart dropped and his blood ran cold as he saw you pull a large bag out of the closet and start shoving clothes into it.

"W-Where are you going?" Vox panicked as he crossed the room.

"The hotel," you said with quiet fury, as you stepped away from the closet and went to the nightstand with your personal things on it. "I need some space and it's the one fucking place I know you'd rather die again than follow me to."

"Ŷ̸̪͕o̸̢̿̿ū̷̫ ̶̬͂c̶̺̾͂a̴͒͘͜n̴̫̂̔'̶̡̉t̶͙̝̄͒," Vox said, his voice starting to glitch as his panic increased. "You've heard the news, the extermination is in a week and the angels plan on attacking there first. There's no guarantee they'll keep to the date after how much little miss dumbass pissed off heaven. It's not safe there."

You pull your bag over your shoulder and the look you gave him will haunt him for the rest of his afterlife. "It's safer than here."

It breaks him all the more when you shield your eyes from him and storm past him so he can't hypnotize you into staying. Vox is paralyzed with fear like never before. He wanted to scream, to beg, to stop you from leaving him, but he couldn't do anything as his system glitched so hard it forced him into a reboot. When he came to, he was alone. You were gone.

--

Charlie was more than willing to let you stay at the hotel. The two of you hadn't had the chance to really ever speak before, but she was always friendly when you came to visit Angel, even after you explained to her there was no way you'd be able to become a guest.

In exchange, you were happy to help set up the defenses against the extermination. You got to know all of the other members of the hotel and the work helped you push down the burning ache in your chest.

Vox had been trying to contact you nonstop. You eventually turned off your phone, driven insane by the wall of notifications of him begging you to respond in any way. He knew you were okay for the time being. He was literally connected to your soul. But as the extermination day grew closer, his panic only increased. If it wasn't for Valentino and Velvette holding him back, there were several times he genuinely would have set aside his pride and come to the hotel just to get you.

It was after helping Husk and Cherri put up a particularly tricky barrier with the dwindling supplies that Angel found you taking a break. He passed you a water which you took gratefully as he slid down the wall and joined you on the floor.

"So," he started. "Are we going to ever talk about the reason why you're hiding out here?"

"Do we have to?" You groan, running your fingers through your hair. Despite the smiles and laughter you'd been sharing with your newfound friends as you all prepared for the potential end of it all, the dark circles on your eyes gave away what was lurking underneath.

For as angry as you were at Vox, you missed him. You missed feeling him curl against you in bed. You missed being woken up at unholy hours early in the morning because Vox couldn't start his day without giving you a kiss and telling you how much he loved you. You missed his shitty taste in shows and how he'd collapse into your arms after a long day at work.

Angel sighed, looking at the boarded-up lobby. "Look I may not get it, but you love the guy, right? Are you really content with possibly dying in a couple of days for a cause you're not even a part of, just because you're pissed with him?"

"He stole my soul, Angie" You frown at him.

"And that is fucked up as hell," he agrees. "But I know you and I know there ain't no way in hell you're actually satisfied leaving shit like this."

"I just-," you start before groaning. "How the hell are we supposed to come back from this? I doubt he'd ever void the contract. He's too convinced he's right for that."

Angel sighed, setting his own cup aside. "Honestly toots, you're not gonna like it, but... He kinda has a point."

You whip your head up to look at him and he holds up his hands defensively. "Not saying that stealing your soul was the right call. Believe me, if anyone gets how fucked it is having your soul controlled by a sociopath with a big ego, it's me. But you're not exactly in the safest of places, dollface. Not to mention, you're dating an overlord who's in a trio determined to piss off as many big shots as possible. His mind may not be in the right place, but his heart kinda is."

You take Angel's words to heart and sigh as you bury your face in your arms. "I hate it, but you're right... I just... I don't want to hold him back. I don't want to be the person that needs to be protected. I want to be his equal, not his problem."

"Then tell him that," Angel sighs. His gaze drifts to the bar and smiles fondly. "Someone recently has taught me how important being real with yourself is. It's okay to be flawed. No one got stuck in this shithole cause we were perfect, y'know?"

He nudged you with a grin as he added, "Plus, come on. Can you imagine how many bitches in hell would kill to have a sexy fucker that wants nothing more than to love ya and keep ya safe? I love you toots, but for fucks sake, pick a struggle."

You snort, shaking your head as you lightly swat at his arm. "Fuck you for being right about shit all the time."

"It's one of my best assets," Angel smirked. "Y'know, aside from all the fluff."

You laughed as he puffed up his chest and by the end of the evening, you'd decided to head back. As much as you loved Angel and wanted nothing more than to be by his side as the extermination drew near, he had a point. This wasn't your fight and there was a controlling dumbass that had been blowing up your phone ever since you left that was praying for your return.

After exchanging promises to see each other after the extermination, you left the hotel. You had an idiot to see.

[komitomi]

Only you — ayato x f!reader

based on this request! i actually kind of went all out for this request cause it liked it very much, I did change a few things tho! sorry for the wait anon :(.

MDNI, NSFW WARNING! this fic contains; p in v sex, oral (f.receiving), p*rn with too much plot 😭, fingering (f.receiving), virginity loss, hymen breaking, slight mentions of blood, gentle!ayato, kinda ooc?, purity culture (?), reader is almost hit (not by ayato), infidelity (?, reader is engaged but her fiancé is a dumb cunt), angst to fluff to smut to fluff! + not proofread cause I had to rush this a little.

WC: ??

“So what did you say to the proposal?” The old and annoying voice of an elder reached ayato's ears, making him sigh out loudly before he put his brush down and looked up to the older man.

He was one of the few elders who oversee the tri-commission of inazuma together, there has been news that two of the clans have produced heirs and settled succession, the one lacking behind is the kamisato clan, the eldest son wasn't even betrothed.

This obviously led to immense pressure for heirs on the clan, everyone was urging ayato to get married and begin producing children, many proposals have come forward, which he rejected.

“I refused.” Ayato simply says, with a bored expression, he thinks this whole ordeal is stupid, he obviously still had many years left on him, he can produce heirs slowly, there really was no rush.

“Ayato,” the old man pauses and licks his lips before continuing, “I know you think we are being stupid, but by marrying and producing heirs, the kujou and hiiragi clan have indirectly said that they will continue to be a part of the tri-commission and that they will never be replaced. You, however, refusing to even simply marry has led to common folk of inazuma to spread rumors that the position of the kamisato clan have become weak.”

“Those are just rumors, we still have the same power and position as before.” Ayato retorts back before picking up his brush before dipping it in black ink and continuing to finish writing on the scroll.

“There are vile rumours surrounding the clan, both on political and personal matters, some even suggesting that you are barren and impotent—” the man seethes which makes ayato grip his brush so tightly that it cracks in the middle, the old man composes himself as he notices that.

“—which is why you aren't getting married, or have any bastards you can legitimize, they speculate.” he finishes and clears his throat, ayato looks at the scroll below him, the writing now messed up.

“I will take care of those rumours, there is nothing to worry about.” he answers calmly even though he was filled with anger, how dare they question him like that? whoever started those rumours clearly intended on sabotaging the clan.

“Ugh, at least marry off your sister.” the old man says frustrated which makes ayato glare at him, “Her children will be just as rightful heirs to this clan.” he taps his feet impatiently.

“Watch your tongue, besides, she is too young.” ayato says as anger starts spilling out of him, he was already filled with rage due to this entire ordeal, now suggesting that he marry his dear sister off when she barely just became of age filled him with fury.

“Listen my Lord, I know that you were angry with this but consider it, there are many fine men—” before he could finish his sentence the scroll that ayato was writing on was lifted and thrown in the man's direction, missing his face by a little gap.

“Get out!” ayato shouts, breathing heavily as he tried to contain his anger, the old man quickly scurries off in fear, leaving ayato alone.

He breathes a sigh of relief and relaxes his body, resting on the table in front of him, dozing off as he slowly recollects what just happened, he sighs heavily once again before holding his head in his hands, thinking about what to do.

Stress brought him to where he usually doesn't dare going, a red light area or more commonly known as the entertainment district, various forms of entertainment can be found here, but mostly it's sexual.

He didn't really know what he was doing here, he had gone out for a walk to clear his mind but found himself further away from his home and on the streets of the entertainment, he looked around to see many people, the sun had set only awhile ago yet this place was crawling with customers who frequent this area.

Maybe he was offended that people would even question his manhood, deeming him barren and impotent just because he didn't produce any heirs or father any bastards, he scoffed. He wasn't that experienced yes, but he had bedded a few women.

He entered one of the popular brothels in hopes of relieving his stress while also hoping rumours would circulate that he visited this area which will put an end to those vile rumours, as he made his way further inside he spotted a woman sitting there and playing an instrument while humming to herself, his eyes widened slightly.

She was the most beautiful woman he had ever laid his eyes on, for some reason it felt like the world just stopped moving as he took in her beauty, the way her hair is slightly disheveled, dressed in a plain and simple kimono, she looked absolutely perfect to him.

The owner of the brothel notices him, immediately recognizing him as the lord of the kamisato clan due to his posture and clothes and mainly the sigil.

“My Lord.” she bows to him which makes him snap out of his trance and nod in acknowledgement.

“What brings you here? If it isn't rude of me to ask, you are a very esteemed person after all.” she compliments him, to which he responds with “Oh, just to relieve some pent up stress.”

“Oh! You're at the right place then my Lord, we have many fine women— mina is one of–” as she starts suggesting she is quickly cut off by ayato. “I prefer her.” he points to the girl he saw before.

“Ah, her?” she asks and he nods, to which she replies with a sigh, “what is the matter?” he asks and the owner looks up at him with a frustrated expression, “She is a hassle, last time a customer requested her, she punched him, but then again it isn't her job to sexually please customers anyway.” she speaks up.

“Elaborate.” he simply says, “She isn't one of the brothel whores, her main job is to sing and play instruments to entertain others, they say her singing ability is so great that it has the ability to calm people down, which I can vouch for—”

“— but she also has a fiancee, well, he was practically the one who 'sold' her off here to make money, he visits every other day to take the mora she has earnt through her capabilities,” she scoffs at the thought of that moron “and she's also a virgin, so she won't be that great in bed.” she finishes and watches as ayato's expression turn sour at the mention that she has a fiancee.

“Ah, I see, well then tell her that I have requested an acquaintance with her, not with the intention of bedding her here.” he tells the owner and she simply nods as he watches her go to the girl and whisper to her.

The girl looks around the room and finally meets his eyes, his breath hitches in his throat at the eye contact, he quickly breaks it away and goes into one of the rooms, looking back to see her following him.

——————

You watched as the esteemed man enter the room, the owner had told you that he had no intention of bedding you and that he simply wants to have a talk with you, which reluctantly believed because who knows what will happen behind closed doors.

You quickly follow him inside and close the door behind you, your heart beating frantically due to fear of what will happen, you turned around to give him a smile, which he returns to your surprise.

“So what's your name?” he asks and you gulp, “Y/n.” you reply shortly.

“Nice to meet you y/n, you may sit.” you quickly sit across him on your knees and clasp your hands together, he watches as you fiddle nervously with your fingers before clearing his throat.

“My name is ayato, kamisato ayato.” he introduces himself, your eyes widen, you knew he was an esteemed man from his attire but didn't really expect him to be THE kamisato ayato, to be fair, you never really saw him in person as both of your worlds were completely different from one another.

“My apologies Lord.” you say quickly and bow and ayato nods, “It's okay, you must be confused as to why I requested you here?” he asks and you nod, “Well I had heard about your story by the owner and it seems that you're stuck here.” and you nod frantically, tears welling up in your eyes as you recall the main reason you're here.

Ayato quickly consoles you by rubbing your back as you look down while tears flow down your cheeks, “Hey, it's okay, I'm here if you want to talk” he coos gently and you look up at him, silence falls between you two with only your sobs breaking it from time to time as you calm yourself down before speaking.

“I- apologies for my messed up demeanor, it's just— I was forced to work here by my idiot of a fiancee, he is a moron who has a gambling addiction, I was forced into an engagement with him by my father, and now I'm permanently stuck here because if I try to leave, he will simply find me and only archons know what will happen if he finds out that I've escaped.” you open up, voice cracking in between sentences.

Ayato was fuming on the inside, who knew this beauty was put through so much? He felt mad, her moron of a fiancee didn't deserve her at all, she's way too nice, kind and beautiful for him.

“Do you wish to escape this place?” he asks and you look at him, you blink your tears away before wiping them with your hands and nodding.

“I can help you, but I'm afraid this method would not be to your liking.” he sighs, “what is the method my lord?” you ask and he ponders for a bit before deciding to tell you.

“The only way for you to escape this brothel would be to marry me and break off your engagement with your fiancee.” he says and looks at you, analysing your face for any answer but you show none.

“Your grace, as much as I love the idea, it seems it's rather too impractical, considering you are head of the kamisato clan, and I'm just a mere common girl, and it would be too much of a burden on you.” you say while looking down, you loved the idea, being able to escape this place and marry someone who isn't a gambling addict but rather a decent man, yet you knew your place.

“You won't be a burden, and it doesn't matter if you are a common girl, you're perfect as the role of my wife.” he speaks up.

“But why me?” you ask, he hums before answering “Like I said, you're perfect to be my wife and I know it for sure, but also because I've developed quite the fondness for you, believe it or not but you were the first girl who made me feel a certain type of way.” he confesses, and you blush.

“If you say so my Lord, I'll accept your proposal.” you say which brings a smile to his face before he nods, a comfortable silence falls between both of you and you decide to break it by starting another conversation.

Ayato didn't know how long the conversation was, but as each moment passed by and everything you revealed about yourself, he fell further and further deep in love, he never believed in love at first sight, but after seeing you, his mind had completely changed.

At first he was awestruck by your beautiful features, but by the end of your conversation with him, he was madly in love with the entirety of you.

“Shall we go back to my house?” he asks and you nod, “Very well.” he says as he gets off the floor and stands up, you following him, you both exit the room and he looks at you, “Wait here, I will speak with the brothel owner and settle things.” he says and goes to her.

The brothel owner looks confused before her expression is replaced with shock and she finally nods, agreeing to whatever he was saying and he gives her a smile before coming to where you were standing, “Let's go.” he smiles at you and holds his hand out for you to grab and you guys finally leave.

The walk back to his house was peaceful, he learnt a lot more about you, and his judgement was right, you were the perfect candidate to be his wife.

All other proposals he had received didn't suit his tastes, the ladies of those families are spoiled to the core, narcissistic and outright annoying, maybe it was fate that he had met you, never in his life was he so thankful for his impulsive decision.

You were currently in his chambers, sitting and waiting as ayato brought out a scroll and spread it on the table in front of you, “Write your name here.” he gives you the brush and ink.

“If you write your name down here, you will officially and legally be wedded to me for this moment onwards, we can do the ceremonial procedure later on.” he says and you nod, quickly dipping your brush in the ink and writing your name down.

He takes the brush from you and writes his name down as well, he waits until the ink dries, blowing on it before he scrolls it and ties it and stores it in a drawer, “That will be legal proof that we're married.” and you look up at him, now all the nerves finally kicking in.

You didn't feel nervous while writing your name on the scroll, it seems like the feelings were delayed and now suddenly you're anxious and fidgeting with your fingers, ayato notices and puts a hand on your shoulder, “There is nothing to be worried about, wife.” he says, the word wife rolling off his tongue with such affection made your stomach leap.

He slowly took your hand and kissed it before he noticed an engagement ring, his expression turned sour before he pulled it off from your finger and threw it away, as he continued to kiss up your arm.

“Now that we're married, shall we consummate it?” he asked, looking at you with his dark bluish eyes, you felt your heartbeat getting faster before you gave him a nod, “I need you to speak up, my wife.” he says and you take a deep breath, “Y-yes.” you nervously say. You had no idea what to expect next, this was your first time after all.

You felt butterflies erupt from your stomach as ayato gently undid your kimono, leaving you in your underclothes (hadajuban), he guided you to his bed, helping you sit on the edge of it.

You studied his face, eyes travelling from his mouth to his nose, to his eyes and back to his mouth again, you had'nt noticed it before, but now that you look at it closely– you realised he had a beauty mark below his lip which made him even more attractive.

The shuffling of ayato's clothes take your attention off of his face, you watched as ayato undressed, soon after, he was also in his underclothes, he leaned in to kiss you, making you move further unto the bed so he can rest his knees in between your thighs as his lips engulfed yours.

His lips were gently pressed against yours, you kissed him back, he almost moaned at the sensation of how soft your lips were against his, he bit your lower lip causing you to gasp which gave him an entrance to shove his tongue inside, you felt his tongue inside your mouth, swirling against yours as you sat there not having any idea what to do, he pulled back, “don't be nervous, just relax and let your body do its own thing.” he said before he rested his thumb on your lip, gently caressing it before kissing you once again.

This time you were the one to tongue-kiss him first, he was taken aback but quickly returned regained himself as his hands trailed down to undo your underclothes, untying the knot that was holding your top in place, he slowly slid it off you and your breasts were exposed to him, feeling shy you try covering yourself but ayato grabbed your arms pining them to your sides and he pulled away from the kiss.

“Don't hide yourself from me, dear wife, we are married now.” he says and you nod, he trails kisses down your neck down to your breasts and stops there, slowly kissing and biting the flesh which made your face burn with heat.

His hands leave yours and trail down your outline before he reaches your underskirt before slowly pulling off you, you were completely naked now, nothing covering you, you felt so vulnerable but ayato's gentle touches and coos made you feel safe.

He slowly took off his underclothes as well, leaving him bare, he did this so you don't feel ashamed or vulnerable anymore, indirectly conveying that it's completely alright and there is nothing to feel embarassed about.

You looked at his body, it was toned perfectly, he was slender near his waist but had wide shoulders, your eyes further trailed further down, gasping when you spotted his dick, it looked like it was about to burst with the way it was hard, his tip was pink and leaking precum, he was thick and decently long down there.

Your mind went back to when your mother taught you how intercourse works, that thing was supposed to go inside you, you looked up at him in panic “I-it won't fit.” you say nervously and he just chuckles, “It will, just let me prep you first okay?” he replies.

“Prep?” you ask him curiously, “Yes, we have to get your cunt nice and leaking for the entry to be easy.” you blush at the choice of words, you had only some basic idea of how intercourse worked and that too was told to you after your engagement with that moron, but even then, he never touched you, so you had zero to no experience when it comes to actual sex.

He pushed you down on the bed, making your head hit the pillow as he settled himself on top of you, with him inbetween your legs, you looked at him, the way his blue locks surrounded your face as he gave you a reassuring smile before he leaned to kiss you again, you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him back, he pulled away from the kiss and supported himself with his arms as he trailed kisses down your abdomen, before he stopped at your heat.

You felt his hot breath on your core which sent shivers down your spine as you watched what he was doing, his hands spread your thighs further apart before one of it leaves your thighs to spread your pussy lips, you felt yourself clenching around nothing at the contact.

“Oh, you're already wet.” he states, slowly tracing his finger up from your hole to bring the slick up to where your clit resides, you gasped when he pressed it lightly before he took his hand away and engulfed your clit.

You let out a whimper at that, hands gripping the sheets on your sides as his lips worked magic on your core, he moved in a skillful manner, swirling the bud around his tongue and sucked on it from time to time, the lewd noises of your whimpers and him practically making out with your cunt filled the room.

You felt him shift as he made room for his hands to rest near your entrance, before he shoved one of his fingers in gently causing you mewl at the sensation, he slowly pumped his finger in and out, giving you time to adjust while he was simultaneously eating you out.

You felt him add another finger once you were loose enough to take one more, you gasped, immediately clenching around him, he groaned with your clit in his mouth, which sent a shiver up your spine due to the vibration.

His moved his fingers in and out, curling them and pressing upwards which hit a certain spot that made you arch your back in order to aid him hitting it again, ‘bingo.’ he thought to himself and fastened the pace of fingers and his mouth.

You felt some type of tightness beginning to form your lower abdomen as he continued to keep the steady but fast pace with both his fingers and mouth, pushing you to the edge.

Ecstasy filled your body when the tightness in your abdomen snapped, pushing you to the brink of your climax, you saw stars as you arched your back and moaned loudly, your hands flew up to his hair as your hips moved by themselves to ride the orgasm out.

Your vision was clouded as you were gasping for air, the foreign feeling leaving your body as you came to your senses, ayato pulled away from your core to look at your expression, your eyes were hooded as you looked up at him with a lewd expression which made his dick throb.

“I never felt anything like that before..” you mutter which catches ayato's attention and he smirks, “So that was your first orgasm?” he asks and you nod, “Kind of- I touched myself before, but wasn't able to finish.” you admit shamelessly, oh god if your mother had heard this conversation then she would've fainted.

“I see, well, that certainly won't be your last.” he says cheekily before supporting himself on his arms, each by your side, and leaned in to peck your face.

“I'll put it in now okay?” he coos, brushing away small hair strands from your face with his hand, the very same hand travels down to his cock as he lines it up against your entrance, you can feel it's head poking the opening.

“Mhm.” you say gulping, preparing yourself for what's to come, you felt him enter inside, stretching your opening, you gasp as you grip his shoulders and look at him, it fucking hurts.

He is only barely halfway in yet it hurts like hell, you close your eyes as the pain of him stretching you open was too much to bear, he halts which makes you shoot your eyes open and look at him once again, “Relax your body okay? I'll be gentle.” he kisses you on the forehead and whispers in your ear.

You do as he tells you, the pain subsides slowly, but it immediately comes back as he fully pushes himself inside you, he doesn't move yet, waiting for you to adjust to his size, you take deep breaths, looking down at where you guys are connected and trying to relax, it was so nerve wracking.

“Shhh, it's alright, just relax and don't worry, darling.” he wipes away your tears with his hand gently, the way he said darling made you melt, you felt safe with him, the pain was slowly starting to go away, “Can i move now?” he asks and you nod, “Y-yes.”

He gives you a comforting smile before he starts thrusting, he tries to be slow so you can adjust but the way you felt around him was driving him insane so he immediately started moving fast, which made it hurt slightly.

You felt that area burning with the way he's moving but slowly the burning goes away as you adjust and relax around him, your hands leave his shoulders to wrap around his neck and you pull him in for a kiss, you moan into the kiss as you feel pleasure replacing the pain you felt prior.

“F-fuck— the way your cunt is wrapping around me, darling. Its— it's. It's driving me insane.” ayato moans, pulling away from the kiss, your arms fall from his neck to your sides, his hands quickly move to grab yours, his fingers intertwining with yours as he makes love to you.

He fastens his pace up even more and looks down curiously, but gasps immediately when he sees blood, it seems your hymen broke at his impact, he slows down thinking you're in pain but you whine, “H-husband.” you utter out which makes him look at you, he felt his dick twitch at the title you had addressed him as.

“C-can you move faster?” you ask– oh so innocently, he lets out a low groan and fastens up his pace once again, the way he had barely met you only a few hours ago, yet he has fallen way too deeply in love for it make sense, everything about you was perfect, your face, your body, the way your pussy wraps around his cock.

The noises of skin slapping, high moans fill the room, the way his cock is hitting all your right spots, making you feel so good, his hands left yours to grab your boobs, the flesh in between his fingers when he squeezes them looked so perfect.

His thumbs rub over your hardened nipple in a teasing manner as you whimper, he slowly plays with them, rubbing it between his finger and pinching it occasionally to draw a gasp or two out of you.

You feel a familiar tightness forming again in your stomach as you feel ayato hitting the same spot from earlier, the way he felt inside you was making your stomach churn in pleasure, you fit him like a perfect glove, your pussy was practically taking his cock like it was created solely for it.

And he wouldn't doubt that, considering the events earlier, it seems that you were infact, made for him.

“Mhmpf! A-ayato! I'm— I'm near my peak!” you yell out which makes him moan and his hands leave your breasts and rest on your hips as he pulls himself up and grips your hips before rutting into you relentlessly.

He was also near his peak, your moans, whimpers all sound like music to him, especially the way you moan out his name, as if chanting a prayer to the archons, he moans your name too, reciprocating your dedication.

Your arch your back as your mouth opens wide and a loud moan leaves your throat, eyes once again clouded as black dots appear in your vision, you come undone beneath him, repeating his name as if your life depended on it.

Oh and it pushed him to the edge as well, his thrusts becoming sloppier until he thrusts one final time before spilling his seed deep inside you, grunting at the sensation, he moves slowly and rides his orgasm out before pulling out to see your juices, blood and his cum mixing together, he collected some of it on his hands before tasting it.

You watched him do that in confusion and slight disgust because of the blood but he only just hummed pleasingly when he tasted it, licking the rest off his fingers as he looks down at your form with his piercing eyes.

“Darling.” he utters as he leans down to shower your stomach in kisses, you felt tingly. You let out a breath you did not now you were holding, he plops himself down next to you and pulls you into his arms and kisses your forehead and looks at your face, eyes taking in your beauty, oh archons he could literally spend hours like this, you give a small smile which made his heart fill up with joy.

You both soon fell asleep in each others arms, for the first time in your life you felt safe and loved by someone, if someone told you a few hours ago that your life would play out like it did now, you would have laughed in their face and told them to stop drinking, but what was happening now was real and you felt at peace.

But that peace didn't last when you were woken up by commotion, you sit up and your eyes scanned the bed for any signs of ayato, but he wasn't there, you rubbed your eyes open and looked around the room to find few servants that were cleaning the room, “oh! the lady is awake.” one of them says, and they all rush over to you.

You were currently in front of a mirror as they had finished cleaning you up and were now dressing you in noble attire, an outfit that mimicked your husband's, whites and blues, which you assumed to be the major colors for formal attire of the kamisato clan, a small gold pin which contained the clan's symbol that seemed to resemble a flower, specifically a camellia flower, was pinned right above your breast, and then it finally dawned on you, the way they kept addressing you as 'lady', colors that mimic your husbands outfit, and now wearing the clan's crest, you were now officially the lady of the clan, kamisato ayato's lady wife.

It felt so surreal, you didn't know what to do or what to say, the servants sat you down on a stool before they began to do your hair, gently brushing and detangling it, that was when the door was slid open, ayato was in his formal attire as well, he watched as the servants greeted him before they turned to quickly finish doing your hair.

You felt his gaze burning through your back, the servants finished up, bowing before they left and closed the door behind them, you got up to face ayato and he immediately hugged you before leaving a kiss on your forehead.

“Where were you?” you asked curiously, tilting your head, he lifted your chin and leaned down to kiss your lips before answering, “I was dealing with the higher ups, working out a few issues oh, and also our marriage is officially now legalised, you are now the lady of this house.” he smiled.

You smiled back at that, before resting your arms on his and just enjoying this romantic moment, “I have to go now darling, there is still a slight settlement that needs to be done, I will be back soon.” he tells you and gives you another kiss, you nod and wave him goodbye as he leaves the chamber.

It has been a while since ayato has left, you were walking as there was nothing to do in the chambers, you decided to familiarize yourself with the residence until a servant rushed up to you, “Lady, there seems to be a guest for you, they are demanding your presence.” the girl says, “Oh? Take me there.” you say and she nods before she tells you to follow her which you do.

Your heart drops to your stomach in dread as the servant opens the door of the waiting room to reveal your fiancé, well, ex fiancé, 'what was he doing here now.' you think bitterly, he gets up and turns to face with a scowl on his face.

“Look who's finally here, the slut that seduced the head of the kamisato clan.” the servant gasped at hearing such degrading words directed towards you by him, “What do you want.” you speak, annoyed.

“what DO I WANT?! why was our engagement called off huh?! and i heard from the owner that you quit your job there!? I always knew you were a whore.” he yells, gritting his teeth in anger and he launches towards you, harshly gripping your shoulders, he reeks of alcohol.

“Let go of me!” you say pushing him off you, making him stumble, he seemed to be shocked by this and laughs, “It got to your head huh? Listen here, just because the clan head slept with you doesn't mean you're any important, he'll probably just dump you, and now nobody else will want you for marriage as you lost your virginity to him.” he laughs in a drunken state, you just looked at him confused, didn't he know that you were now the lady of the clan?

“There's still a chance you know? I will take you back, I don't mind that he took your virginity, you just have to work again and I'll marry you.” he chuckles and now it's your turn to laugh, “You think I'll go back to you? Oh please, I'd rather die.” you scoff, you see his face contort with anger, “You bitch—!” he launches towards you, raising his hand to hit, you close your eyes and turn your head to the side anticipating a hit but nothing comes.

You open your eyes to see ayato holding his hand in a tight grip, “Watch your tongue.” ayato warns, shoving him away from you and standing next to you, “Oh- oh Lord, my apologies, it seems my fiancé here has pleasured you deeply for you to care about her, but I'm here to take her back.” he bows, and ayato scoffs “Take her back? She's my wife now.” as soon ayato finishes that sentence, your ex fiancé's head shoots up to look at him in shock before he looks at you again, you stare at him with a raised eyebrow.

“I-” before he could speak, ayato draws his sword and rests it on his neck, “Should I have your tongue or your head for uttering such slanders towards my wife?” he asks genuinely, chest heaving with anger and you look at him, silently conveying through your gaze to not go that far.

Ayato lowers his blade, and immediately without waiting a second, your ex fiancé rushes out, running away, you scrunch your nose in disgust as the smell of alcohol passes through the air when he rushed past you.

“Thank you.” You say to ayato, he looks at you, you give him a tight hug and feel himself relax against you, “If the servant hadnt come to get me, he would've harmed you.” he mutters and sighs as he hugs you back.

“Seriously how can he treat someone as beautiful and amazing as you this bad?” he pouts and rub his back as reassurance, “But hey, now I have you.” you say and smile up at him, which he returns before leaning down to kiss you on the lips.

He pulls away from the kiss before gazing at the direction your ex had ran off to, “Maybe I'll have his head on a splatter.” you hear him say darkly and you punch his chest lightly, “No, Love.” you say sternly and his stomach erupts with butterflies.

Oh how you had him whipped and lovestruck.

[parrythisucasual]

OMG OKAY SO,

can u do a Jax x reader, but Jax is like extremely rude to everyone but when reader comes along, he for some reason melts like puddy around them. ALSO, reader is like a femme fatale , she views men as below her, but she sees Jax as her lover. She’s like I hate all men! Except for u jax my love 💗(MWAHAHAH)

I'm sorry this fic is so short, I made it to the best of my ability! Course, I don't have any idea what femme fatale is so I just used context clues, ahhh! If it's bad I'll rework it! I actually made a lil doodle to make up for the shortness!

Adoring! Jax x Femme Fatale! Reader

You had that boy wrapped around your finger. He was so smitten, you could tell him “Bark” and he’d respond “How loud?” It was extraordinarily satisfying. Not that you didn’t care about him, no, that would be cruel. In fact, he was the only man you’d ever harbored such a soft spot for. Isn’t it just perfect he’d be so… well… adoring?

Speak of the devil, you suppose. You glance around the corner, getting a sight of what he pretended to be when you weren’t around. Jax, standing tall and imposing, was staring down at Ragatha. You weren’t close enough to hear what was being said, but from the fury in her eyes and the smile on Jax’s face, you could gather a small idea.

You stepped into the room, “Oh, Jaxy, dear…” His head shot up at your words, the fake grandeur melting away like butter in a microwave, “I do hope you’re behaving yourself?” His expression changed from "high school bully" into “lovesick puppy” in an instant, nodding as he responded, “Yeah, course I am!”

You make your way over, motioning him to come to you with one finger. Jax hurried to your side, and you offered your hand to hold. He gladly took it, his thumb running over the back of your hand in small circles. You smile to Ragatha, “Sorry about him,” you apologize, and she just rolls her eyes, returning the grin, “It’s okay. I think he just missed you.”

“Did you?” you turn to Jax, chuckling a bit, “I was only away for a few hours to nap?” His grin turned awkward, “Well, I mean… I really just… er…” You use your free hand to pat his hand you were holding, “Don’t worry, love, I missed you too,” you reassure him.

“Anyways,” you glance back to Ragatha, “he’s going to apologize too. Aren’t you?” Jax, without hesitation, pipes up, “Sorry, Rags, it won’t happen again. Promise.” She shakes her head as she walks away, “Sure it won’t. See you around!” she adds as she makes her way over to Zooble and Gangle.

Jax glances at you, eyes hopeful, “Alright, big guy, come here.” You pull him down, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, “Now quit being so mean, honey, the others don’t deserve it. Besides, I’m getting tired of having to apologize for you.” 

“No more being mean, got it,” he nodded, leaning in for more kisses. You comply, a chuckle rising in your throat, “Cute.”

[mellowwillowy]

Omg i love your work😭😭 especially Yulian he's crazy but he's sooo sweet🥹 and you write him so well fr

I was wondering how'd he react if his darling decides that they wanna break up with him / get a divorce,, or they start to feel like he's hiding something from them which causes them to doubt him. But I feel like he would 100% gastlight them first.

Chances of divorce in Utopia is 0 honey :)

But let's talk about Dystopia.

Yan! Lawyer Husband - GN Spouse Reader

Yes, Yulian will corner the fuck out of you mentally as much as he hates it. He should have picked up on the signs earlier and yet he paid no mind to it until you exploded, again.

The reason was simple, you doubted him.

It all started from a suspicion of his absence, the rumors circulating around him and the voice in your head yelling you to leave him.

'That man is no good! Leave him before it's too late again!'

"Where were you dear?"

"Duty called dear. I'm sorry for leaving you alone for a long time yeah?"

"I asked everyone around and they told me that you were absent for the 5 days. Where were you if you were not in the court nor your office?"

Yulian didn't expect you to bother questioning around, mentally adding another note to bribe everyone next time.

"I was visiting another place, the client did not like leaving his curb so I had to visit him myself, I'm sorry I didn't notify you earlier dear."

Yulian's hand creeped into your cheek, caressing it gently while giving you an apologetic smile. The smile that always makes you shrug all your doubts and worries away.

But not today.

"This is not the first time this has happened, Yulian."

Yulian jolted. You were glaring at him. The face that he rarely sees from you, the face that he never expected to see from you. You.

"Dear?"

'You know right? This man right here is nothing but a swindler!'

"Why do you always lie to me?"

'How many secrets has he hidden from you? Better yet, why is he keeping you in the dark?'

"Always, always, always lying. I had enough of you, Yulian. This is not the first I have confronted you and this is not the first out of your many lies that I haven't confronted you about."

'Stay away from him.'

"I want a divorce."

'Run.'

"Di... vorce?"

Yulian's face darkened. A face you had never seen before.

"Divorce?"

"Yes."

'Run!'

Yulian sat down, his eyes traveling toward anywhere but you. He took in a shaky breath before exhaling it in fury. No, it was not directed at you. It was directed at himself for being slow and dumb. A fool no less.

"I'll have Aava packed my stuffs today. I will hand you the papers for you to sign later." You paid no mind to his slumped figure, leaving him.

"No..." Yulian stopped you in your track, his hand holding your wrist tightly. "Don't leave me alone again."

"Is it not supposed to be directed at you instead?"

Yulian winced. You were right but he was right as well. What should he do? What should he do?

What he should do.

"Dear..." Yulian stood up to his feet, "don't you think you are being a bit too hasty?"

"Wha-?"

"Over something so menial," he knew he shouldn't word it like that, "I was trying my best you know? I tried my best to wrap up everything quickly but I just can't not attend to duties such as this."

He was driving you into the corner again.

"If this is the same word game you are playing with me then it's not working on me anymore."

"No, this is the truth we are talking about," Yulian's hand cupped your cheek, "I know you have it hard, but I too, am troubled from it. Do you perhaps view me as an irrespobsible man who leaves his spouse because he feels like it?"

What?

'Run, leave him, just leave him!'

"Have you always viewed me like that dear? I can't fathom how you... thought of me like that even just for the slightest."

Was it not supposed to be the other way around?

"You, you are the one who always thinks of me like that!"

"How could you even say that?"

How could you even say that to me then?

'Stop listening to him!'

Yulian's hands clasped your ears, his face close to yours.

"How could you even think of something so shallow?"

'ADAMMMMMMM!!!!'

"Have you never even considered my love to be real just even for once?"

You don't feel like thinking anymore. You don't feel like listening to them both anymore.

"Don't worry dear, I'll make sure to ease those doubts away. Just listen to me and everything will be alright."

'Do----'

Yes, that sounds just right. Right?

"How about you take those pills first?"

Yes, they always calm you down.

[elryuse]

It Should Be Me

Yandere Yooyeon Triples X Male Reader

Requested by my dear friend on discord. Hope you like it bruh.

I can't remember a time when Yooyeon wasn't there. We were practically attached at the hip from preschool. She was always the older, wiser one, even if by a year. I remember her pulling me away from a particularly nasty sandbox fight, her small hand gripping mine with surprising strength.

"Don't fight, Y/n," she'd said, her voice firm for someone so young. "It's not nice."

I pouted, but I listened. There was something about the way she looked at me, with that intense focus, that made me feel safe.

As we grew older, our bond deepened. We'd spend hours lost in our own world, building forts in the woods behind my house, sharing secrets, and dreaming about the future. Yooyeon was my confidante, my protector, and my best friend.

Then Nakyoung came along. She was a whirlwind, a burst of sunshine that lit up every room. I was drawn to her energy, her laughter. It was like she brought color into my world. I remember the day she confessed her feelings for me, under the old oak tree in the park. My heart pounded in my chest as she poured her heart out. It was overwhelming, but there was something about her sincerity that made me realize I felt the same way.

We started dating, and it was like a dream. Nakyoung was everything I could have asked for in a girlfriend. She was smart, funny, and incredibly supportive. We spent countless hours together, holding hands, sharing secrets, and making plans for the future.

But somewhere in the back of my mind, there was always Yooyeon. She'd been there for me through everything, and I cared about her deeply. But our relationship had changed. The closeness we once shared had drifted apart. She seemed quieter, more withdrawn.

Now in high school, with Nakyoung by my side, I tried to ignore the growing distance between Yooyeon and me. It was like she was watching from the sidelines, a silent observer of our happiness. Sometimes, I'd catch her looking at me with a longing that made me uncomfortable.

I pushed those feelings aside. After all, Yooyeon was my best friend, and I trusted her completely. But as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Yooyeon was changing, and I didn't know how to help her.

Little did I know, the darkness that was creeping into Yooyeon's heart would soon consume her, and our lives would be irrevocably changed.

The cafeteria was a cacophony of noise, a sea of students jostling for space and food. Nakyoung was perched on my lap, her arms wrapped tightly around my neck as she giggled into my ear. Her laughter was like a warm sunbeam, chasing away the shadows of my worries.

"You're such a dork, Y/n," she teased, her breath tickling my skin. I grinned, squeezing her a little tighter.

"Only for you, princess," I replied, my voice muffled by her hair.

Just as I was about to steal a kiss, a crash echoed through the cafeteria. My heart skipped a beat as I turned to see Yooyeon standing there, her face flushed with embarrassment. A tray of food lay shattered on the floor, the remnants of Nakyoung's lunch scattered everywhere.

Nakyoung's smile vanished, replaced by a scowl. "WTF!!! Watch where you're going, idiot!" she snapped, her voice sharp.

Yooyeon's eyes widened in shock. "I-I'm so sorry," she stammered, her voice barely a whisper.

A wave of anger washed over me. It wasn't Yooyeon's fault. Accidents happen. I reached out to take Nakyoung's hand, trying to calm her down. "It's okay, Nakyoung," I said softly. "It was an accident."

But she was beyond reason. Her anger was a wildfire, consuming everything in its path. "Don't defend her," she hissed, her eyes flashing with fury. "She's always been clumsy."

My blood ran cold. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Yooyeon was my friend, and Nakyoung was being incredibly unfair. A surge of protectiveness for Yooyeon ignited within me.

"That's enough, Nakyoung," I said firmly, my voice low and dangerous. Her eyes widened in surprise. I'd never spoken to her like that before.

Without another word, I grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the cafeteria. We stormed out into the hallway, ignoring the stunned stares of the students.

I dragged her into a small café on the corner, the bell above the door jingling softly. We sat down at a quiet corner table, the soft jazz music providing a much-needed respite from the chaos of the cafeteria.

I ordered two dalgona coffees and a small plate of brownies, trying to calm my racing heart. Nakyoung sat across from me, her arms crossed, her face still flushed with anger.

"I can't believe you defended her," she said finally, her voice laced with venom.

"Yooyeon is my friend, Nakyoung," I said calmly. "She didn't mean to spill your food."

"She's clumsy," she retorted.

I sighed. "Accidents happen, Nakyoung. We all make mistakes."

She glared at me, but I could see the anger slowly fading from her eyes. I took a sip of my coffee, the sweet and bitter taste a comforting contrast to the turmoil inside me.

*sighs* "I-i'm sorry for overreacting," she said finally, her voice softer.

I smiled. "It's okay. But please, try to be a little kinder to Yooyeon. She's been there for me since we were kids."

She nodded, her expression thoughtful. "I know. She's your noona, right?"

I chuckled. "Yeah, she's my noona. Even though we've grown apart a bit since high school, she's still my senior. I look up to her."

Nakyoung smiled, and for the first time since the incident, her eyes held a genuine warmth. "I'll apologize to her tomorrow," she promised.

Relief washed over me. I reached across the table and ruffled her hair. "Good girl," I said, grinning.

As we left the café, hand-in-hand, I felt a sense of peace wash over me. The tension between Nakyoung and Yooyeon had been a constant source of stress, but for now at least, it seemed to have eased.

Meanwhile, In Yooyeon's POV

My heart pounded in my chest like a trapped bird. The sting of Nakyoung's words was a physical pain, a sharp knife twisting in my gut. To be dismissed so casually, to be seen as nothing more than a clumsy idiot, it was almost too much to bear.

I watched as Y/n and Nakyoung walked away, their hands intertwined, their laughter like a mocking melody in my ears. They were a perfect match, a fairytale couple, and I was the unwanted extra in their story.

A wave of despair washed over me. I'd loved Y/n for as long as I could remember. I'd watched him grow from a shy little boy into the handsome young man he was now. And yet, I'd never had the courage to tell him how I felt.

I pulled out my phone and found a picture of Y/n from our high school yearbook. His smile was as bright as the sun, and my heart ached with longing. I traced his features with my finger, tears blurring my vision.

"Why didn't I tell him?" I whispered to myself, my voice trembling. "Why didn't I have the courage?"

The answer was a bitter taste in my mouth. Fear. Fear of rejection, fear of losing his friendship. I'd let my fear dictate my life, and now I was paying the price.

But as the tears continued to flow, something else began to stir within me. A dark, twisted feeling that was both terrifying and exhilarating. A part of me wanted to lash out, to hurt Nakyoung for what she'd said. To make her pay for stealing Y/n's heart.

And another part of me wanted to possess Y/n completely, to be the only one who saw him, touched him, loved him. I wanted to be the center of his world, the only person who mattered.

A dangerous smile crept across my face as I stared at the picture of Y/n. This wasn't the Yooyeon I knew, the shy, quiet girl who was always in the background. This was someone new, someone dark and twisted.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm raging inside me. I knew what I had to do. I had to get Y/n back, no matter the cost.

And as I looked into Y/n's smiling face, I made a promise to myself. I would have him, even if it meant destroying everything in my way.

The cafeteria was buzzing with activity, a sea of students chattering and laughing. I took a deep breath and walked in, bracing myself for whatever Nakyoung had planned.

To my surprise, she approached me with a look of genuine remorse. "Yooyeon Unnie, I'm so sorry about yesterday," she said, her voice sincere. "I was out of line."

I was caught off guard. I hadn't expected an apology, certainly not such a heartfelt one. I forced a smile. "It's no problem, Nakyoung. It was my fault for being so clumsy."

We stood there for a moment, an awkward silence hanging between us. Then, she nodded and walked away, joining her friends.

As the day wore on, I tried to focus on my classes, but my mind was racing. Nakyoung's apology had thrown me off balance. Part of me wanted to believe that she was sincere, but the other part was wary.

During my last class, I caught a glimpse of Nakyoung and her friends huddled together, their voices filled with laughter. I couldn't help but eavesdrop.

"And guess what?" I heard Nakyoung say, her voice excited. "I'm going to steal Y/n's first kiss!"

The room seemed to tilt on its axis. My heart pounded in my ears as I processed her words. She was going to take Y/n's first kiss? How could she be so heartless?

My vision blurred as anger and jealousy consumed me. I couldn't breathe. I had to get out of there.

I stood up abruptly, my chair scraping against the floor. My classmates stared at me in confusion, but I didn't care. I grabbed my bag and rushed out of the classroom, ignoring the teacher's calls for me to stay.

I ran out of the school and into the fresh air, the cold wind doing little to cool the fire burning inside me. I stumbled upon a park bench and collapsed, my body trembling.

How could I have been so stupid? I'd let Y/n slip through my fingers, and now he was about to be taken by someone else. I was a failure as a friend, as a woman.

Desperation and hatred warred within me. I had to do something, but I didn't know what. All I knew was that I couldn't let this happen.

Nakyoung was going to pay for what she was planning to do.

Back To Y/n's POV

I was buried in textbooks, trying to absorb the dense material for the upcoming exam. A sharp rap on the door startled me. Assuming it was Nakyoung, I quickly got up to open it. To my surprise, it was Yooyeon, standing there with a hesitant smile, holding a bag and a glass of soju.

"Yooyeon Noona? What are you doing here?" I asked, confusion evident in my voice.

She chuckled nervously. "I brought you dinner. And... well, I thought we could use a drink."

I stepped aside, inviting her in. The sight of her, standing in my small apartment, felt oddly intimate. We settled on the couch, the bag of food between us. The apartment was filled with an awkward silence, a stark contrast to the usual noise of our high school lives.

"So, how have you been?" I asked, trying to break the ice.

Yooyeon's smile faltered slightly. "I've been... okay, I guess. Just dealing with the usual final term stress."

We talked for a while, about school, friends, and the future. It felt like we were reconnecting, like we were back in those carefree days of childhood. As the soju warmed my insides, the conversation turned more serious.

"Y/n," Yooyeon began, her voice trembling slightly, "I need to tell you something."

I nodded, my heart pounding. "What is it Noona?"

She took a deep breath. "I saw Nakyoung with another guy today. They were... pretty intimate."

My world seemed to stop. Nakyoung? Cheating? It couldn't be true. I knew her, I trusted her.

"Y-you're lying," I said, my voice barely a whisper.

Yooyeon's eyes filled with tears. "I wish I was. But I saw it with my own eyes."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. My heart shattered into a million pieces. I felt betrayed, deceived.

"N-no," I whispered again, shaking my head. "It's not true."

Yooyeon reached out and took my hand. "I know it's hard to believe, but it's true. She's been cheating on you."

Tears streamed down my face. I couldn't stop them. I felt like a fool, a complete idiot for trusting her.

Yooyeon pulled me into a tight embrace, her body trembling against mine. "I'm so sorry, Y/n," she whispered. "I know this must hurt you"

I clung to her, finding solace in her warmth. In that moment, she was the only person in the world who understood my pain.

"You're the only one who's ever really cared about me," she said, her voice muffled by my hair.

I looked up at her, my vision blurred with tears. She leaned in closer, her eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow and desire. And then, she kissed me.

It was a gentle kiss, filled with a tenderness that surprised me. In that moment, the world disappeared, leaving only us. It was my first kiss, and it was perfect, or so it seemed.

But as our lips parted, a cold dread washed over me. I had been betrayed, not just by Nakyoung, but by my own heart.

I was lost, adrift in a sea of confusion and pain.

Nakyoung's POV

My heart pounded in my chest like a frantic drumbeat. It was almost midnight, and Y/n hadn't answered any of my calls or texts. A wave of panic washed over me. Something was wrong.

I raced to his apartment, my mind a whirlwind of worst-case scenarios. I pounded on the door, my knuckles aching. "Y/n! Open up!" I shouted, my voice trembling.

The door creaked open, revealing Yooyeon standing in the doorway. She was wearing a little piece of clothing, Her hair was disheveled, her eyes filled with a strange intensity. My heart skipped a beat. What was going on?

"Yooyeon Unnie? " I stammered, my voice barely a whisper.

She stepped aside, revealing Y/n sitting on the couch, looking pale and drawn. My relief turned to horror as I took in the scene. Yooyeon was wearing Y/n's shirt, and there was an undeniable intimacy between them that made my blood run cold.

"What the hell is going on?" I demanded, my voice rising.

Yooyeon's lips curled into a sinister smile. "It's simple, Nakyoung. Y/n is mine now."

I felt a surge of anger. "You're crazy! He loves me!"

Yooyeon laughed, a cold, hollow sound. "Love? That's a childish notion. Possession is power, and he belongs to me now."

I lunged forward, ready to confront her, but she held up a hand to stop me. "Don't even bother," she said, her voice dripping with contempt. "It's too late for you."

She turned to Y/n, her eyes softening. "Darling, why don't you show her how happy you are?"

Y/n looked at me with a vacant expression, as if he were a sleepwalker. He stood up and walked towards me, his movements slow and deliberate.

Terror gripped me as he approached. I backed away, but there was nowhere to go. I was trapped.

Yooyeon stepped in front of me, her arm around Y/n's waist. "He's mine now, Nakyoung," she whispered, her breath warm against my ear. "So go home. This is our life now."

I tried to fight, to break free, but it was useless. Yooyeon was stronger than I thought, and Y/n was like a zombie, following her every command.

As I was dragged out of the apartment, I looked back at Y/n one last time. The man I loved was gone, replaced by a hollow shell controlled by a deranged woman.

A cold despair settled over me. I had lost everything.

The world seemed to darken as the door closed behind me, leaving me alone in the cold, unforgiving night.

The End

[iiwaijime]

love like a tidal wave

romeo and juliet by sergio cupido.

pairing; iwaizumi hajime x female reader.

content warnings; medieval au. suggestive, mentions of infidelity, angst, happyish? ending. not proofread </3

word count; 2.2k

the sword in iwaizumi's hands clatters to the ground before he can react, and his opponent — oikawa — lets out a loud cackle that is much too inappropriate for their current situation. oikawa groans, waiting for iwaizumi to pry his eyes away from the princess. iwaizumi shakes his head, turning back to him. "you sound like a madman."

"well," sighs oikawa. "it is driving me insane, the way you pine for her highness."

"i don't," he replies, annoyed. they both know it is a lie.

a fair distance away from them, you are entertaining your latest suitor. the two of you are slowly walking towards them, appearing to be engrossed in conversation. iwaizumi wants to know what's so interesting.

your suitor is named suguru daishou, a slick, smooth-talking weasel of a man. his beady eyes irritate you, as does his voice. but you tolerate it to the best of your ability — until he brings up iwaizumi.

"i cannot, of course, be an exact... replacement for your wonderful knight when it comes to certain— activities, let's say—"

white-hot fury rushes through you as you wrench your arm away from him, storming away. "how dare you?"

he pulls you back to him by your wrist abruptly, and iwaizumi and oikawa are already advancing towards you as soon as it happens.

"your highness, i apologise—" he begins, but you cut him off.

"how dare you entertain such slanderous ideas about my knight?"

"it was merely in jest," he protests. "i—"

"do not waste your words," you say, now calmer. "i think it is in your best interest to leave."

iwaizumi does not notice how oikawa slows down and hangs back, until he's bowing to you, alone.

"iwaizumi," you say, and he dares to finally look up into your beautiful, radiant face.

"your highness."

"i am sorry that you had to witness such an outburst."

he shakes his head, appalled at how you're apologising, to him of all people.

"there is no apology required here, your highness," he rasps. "but you are alright? he was not too... invasive, was he?"

you smile gently at his concern, less formal than usual, and it has his heart clawing out of his chest with how perfect you are. ""of... course not. he just insulted someone who i hold extremely dear to me; i merely failed to control my temper. if there is any fault here, it is mine."

he tilts his head to one side, confused. "you are talking about— me?"

"yes, of course." gaze softening, you speak about this as if it is nothing important. as if you aren't ripping his heart out with your words, cruelly toying with it in your hands without a care in the world. "if one is to scorn my favourite knight, of course i am obligated to respond in turn."

he inclines his head, hoping you do not realise how hard his heart thumps against his chest, or how his lungs are betraying him, not allowing him to breathe. "next time— if there is a next time, pray let me handle it."

"as you wish, iwaizumi." you smile at him again, a sort of amused, pitying thing, before turning around with a swish of your skirts. "now, escort me to my quarters."

he nods, trailing slightly behind you as you walk. glancing back, he sees oikawa and the others watching, no doubt full of glee. but...

"pardon me if this is improper, but why me?"

"why you?"

"why did you ask for me in particular, i mean," he corrects himself hastily. "hanamaki and matsukawa were free, while oikawa and i were in the midst of sparring. is there a reason you are requesting for my escort in particular?"

you stay silent, and he's about to apologise, already regretting ever having brought it up. but you are unlike most of your kin; you answer all of his peculiar questions, indulge in every thought he dares to let out. "...no. i just prefer your company over those of others'."

he is glad that you cannot see the way his stoic features melt into a lovesick smile as you respond.

"you have plenty of other people willing to keep you company," he ventures next. "why do you always choose me?"

you pause abruptly, turning to stare at him in surprise, as if he's said something outlandish and strange. he almost bumps into you in return, backing away hastily to give you space. "why, iwaizumi, you are my knight. is that not reason enough?"

"may i say no? you have other knights too, your highness."

"must there be a reason for everything?" you muse. "maybe i am just fond of you."

the calmness of your words throws him off guard; do not read into it, he implores himself. do not ask another question. his brain catches up to his heart a second too late, and he's already speaking before he can stop himself. "fond of me, in the way it is appropriate for a princess to be fond of her knight," he says slowly. "or...?"

the unspoken question lingers in the air, and you do not respond for a moment. then: "iwaizumi, i gather you are smart enough to understand what i am implying."

he lets out a sigh, cheeks rosy. this is no longer the simple back-and-forth conversation you've had a thousand times before, he realises. he speaks quietly when he finally allows himself to. "your highness, you say such things with no care for my heart."

his voice is pleading, silently begging for you to stop here, to not let things go any further into uncharted territory. for the first time in an extremely long time, he finds himself terrified of what the future may hold.

you laugh, short and controlled. "surely a few soft-spoken words will not result in your untimely demise?"

he echoes your laugh with his own bitter one; you are wrong, it will kill him. and this is a death far worse than any other one, from the gallows to the battlefield. aloud, he responds, "you are correct, your highness. but it does not change the fact that you cannot be saying such things to me. it is not right."

"and why not?" your words are light, the meaning behind them heavy.

"you are... a princess, your highness. pardon me for being so bold, but you are speaking of things that will simply not happen. you are to marry a prince of a foreign land, secure alliances for us. not... do this. not with me."

your eyes tell him that you can't comprehend what he's saying. "iwaizumi, please."

he feels sick when he hears it, the way you say please. "do not— do not do that to me, princess, i beg of you."

your expression hardens suddenly, as if you've come to a conclusion. you look up at him, determined. "surely... one night will be enough?"

the breath disappears from his lungs, and his heart stops. has he heard right? he feels like a madman; he cannot believe his ears. one night? it will never be enough. "you are too cruel, your highness. do not say such things to me, please."

you swallow, looking away from him almost bashfully. "beggars cannot be choosers, iwaizumi, and i am desperate."

he blinks. what?

"desperate? you should not be desperate for me, princess. you know i am undeserving, unworthy of you."

"do not jest," you chide him, as if what you're talking about right now is not about life or death to him. "if anything, i am the one not worthy of you."

he lets out a tired scoff. "do not say such things like that about yourself, your highness; how could someone as elegant, as beautiful as you ever think they are not worthy of me? the greatest rulers would be lucky to have you. and you are a princess, and i am merely the knight appointed to your service."

instead of replying, you step closer to him and raise a hand up, letting your fingertips graze across his cheek lightly before you drop it. "iwaizumi, you are not nothing."

it takes all of his willpower to not react to your touch, to keep a straight face. he misses the gentle feel as soon as it leaves. you can see the pain in his eyes as he looks down at you. "please, do not touch me like that. you need to understand, i am nothing compared to you. you are my princess, yes, but only to protect, for now, until you find someone fitting to marry, to love. you cannot have such feelings for me."

"and if i do? what if that person is you, iwaizumi?"

a knife through the heart would have been less painful than this, he decides. maybe he should go find a sword after this; there is no way he will be able to live normally, look at you the way he does now. knowing that in another life, the two of you are able to have something more. "why do you say such hurtful things, princess? do you seek to punish me for loving you? by knowing my heart and still speaking to me like this?"

you twirl a lock of your hair thoughtfully around a finger, and you look so beautiful that iwaizumi thinks he might die. "of course not. i am merely speaking my thoughts, the truth."

he shakes his head. "your thoughts, this truth you speak of, that is what hurts me the most, your highness. i was resigned to loving you in secret, but this... this is too much."

"hajime, please."

he takes a step back, shakes his head again. his name, falling from your lips, is magical. "my princess, i cannot."

"just one night, i will be yours," you say, voice heartbreakingly soft. "let me, your princess, have this one thing in my insignificant life."

it is shameful, how badly he wants this. how close he is to letting go of all his morals, everything he holds dear to him, just for you.

"you are not insignificant," he whispers. "you are the princess. you have everything i will never have. i cannot do this, your highness. think of your future, your husband, when you will get married. what then? what will become of me?"

"hajime," you repeat.

"you say you want to be mine, but even if only for a moment, i would never be able to look at you the same way ever again. my insatiable heart would only ever yearn for more."

"and i would give that to you," you reply. you are reckless now, no longer caring about etiquette or status or anything other than him. "i am not above infidelity when it comes to you, iwaizumi."

"please," he says at last. "do not make me fall for you more than i have already."

"i—"

"we should get going." he doesn't let you finish as he starts walking again. this time, you have no response.

iwaizumi bows to you again as you stand in front of your chamber doors, and turns to walk away. but then you call after him — "darling," in your pretty, soft voice, so beseeching — and he breaks.

"darling," you say again, and he turns back to you. every step he takes weighs a thousand pounds; he knows he should stop, but he can't.

"my love," he breathes, when the two of you are finally standing in front of each other again. and you're smiling — not one of those tight-lipped, formal ones, but one reserved just for him — as you unlock the door and reach for his hand to pull him in. he swears there are fireworks going off around him as your hands finally, finally touch, as he enters your chambers for the first time as your lover instead of your knight.

he isn't sure what to do after all that buildup, when he's finally standing in your room, when you've locked your doors and come back. but you reach for the straps of his armor, pushing yourself up on your toes to whisper in his ear.

"your armor, take it off," you murmur, and he swallows harshly, fingers brushing against your own as his hands come up to assist you. you let the pieces clatter to the floor carelessly. as soon as you're done, you're reaching out to cup his face, and he's being pulled down to kiss you.

the first touch of your lips on his has him shuddering — it's intoxicating, you're intoxicating, and he is absolute putty in your hands as the two of you stumble blindly towards your bed. you're backed up against the headboard, fingers twisting around his hair when he looks up at you with hazy eyes.

"can't—," he pants, and he's yearning for your lips again, the few seconds apart already beginning to get to him. "need this forever, not just tonight, i can't, do you understand?"

you nod feverishly, thoughts blurring and melting into each other. "'sokay, hajime, i love you, i'll give you forever, do whatever it takes—"

"i love you," he echoes, and then he kisses you again.

title is from a match into water by pierce the veil.

authors note im shaking still. its 4am i dont know what im doing with my life but this is THE fic ive ever written. there is no better this is it. tagging some moots im sorry guys. also, may make a part 2.

@akaakeis @hatsukeii @causenessus @weepingangelboy

gen taglist -> @smiithys

[polarisbibliotheque]

Devil May Halloween - Ghost Riders In The Sky (Dante)

Devil May Halloween 2024 - Ghost Riders In The Sky (Dante's Halloween Special)

Pairing: Dante x Reader Summary: Oh, Halloween. Last year, you were almost forcefully married to a demon, so Dante's keeping his eyes on you. Well, this time, he will be the one needing help - and only a demon at the crossroads will be able to give you the powers to help your red devil. Rider, you should've known better to change your ways so you wouldn't ride with the ghost riders. Word Count: 25k words, it's a book, BEWARE. Author's Notes: Big big BIG credit to our beloved @furyeclipse who literally helped me write this year! We did this one as a sort of a collab and Fury wrote everything Ovid - so don't forget to sing her praises too!! We got you guys 55 pages of pure DMC crew Halloween shenanigans this time! I was on a big cowboy mood and I LOVE Johnny Cash's song, Ghost Riders In The Sky, with all my heart as well as... YES, THE GHOST RIDER MOVIE WITH NIC CAGE. NOT SORRY, I ADORED IT AS A TEEN. Hahahahaha those were the inspirations - oh, and of course Scooby-Doo inspiration with Nico and Kyrie on this one. Fury helped me getting the ideas going and I just finished writing it yesterday, if I'm not wrong. I do hope you guys enjoy it! I also hope Vergil's will follow soon, but I can't guarantee anything. Do apologize - but I hope Dante's can suffice for now. Happy Halloween, my dear critters, hunters and cheeky devils! ;)

“We’re stickin’ together this year, babe.”

You were almost laughing, but you didn’t want Dante to feel bad for wanting to keep an eye on you – your laughs would be of how endearing you thought he was being rather than anything else, but it would be too much to explain.

His protectiveness actually had a point, and you had to give him that.

“Ok, big guy.” Even so, you couldn’t refrain your voice of sounding a little dismissive. It wasn’t like you didn’t carry around a huge sword and a couple of guns to hunt demons by yourself as well – his worries had a point but, quite frankly, you could always put one hell of a fight if something even tried to touch you.

“Ei, I mean it!” You were walking side by side, but he pointed at you for emphasis. It was impressive how Dante could carry so much worry in his voice and still act absolutely nonchalant about everything – you thought it had something to do with the way his hips swayed during his laidback walks; even during a job, like you were at the moment. “Do I have to remind ya what happened every single last Halloween we had together?”

“I know, I know.” You sighed, but you had to agree with him. From a cursed top hat to being kidnapped to a demonic wedding, you had been through it all. Each year, you thought something new couldn’t happen, until Halloween arrived and, lo and behold, you were both in some new, crazy adventure. “To think it all started with that frigging top hat. How do you think Cheshire demon is doing? Any word from it?”

“Well, Patty allows it out of the hat from time to time. It seems to like her and protect her, who would’ve known?” Dante shrugged, letting out a long sigh himself. Patty practically stole the hat from the shop one day, and there wasn’t much Dante could do to have it back – the girl had a will of steel and, if he thought it was really dangerous, he would’ve never allowed it to touch her hands. In his eyes, everything was under control and Patty seemed… Happy. He would never steal happiness from her. “That spook is kinda her pet now. They’re ‘best friends forever’, who am I to get in the way?”

You let out a giggle. Dante looked like a father whose kid just brought a stray from the streets and looked at him with puppy eyes, asking to be able to keep it.

Only Patty’s stray was a skinny, creepy Cheshire cat looking demon, with a mischievous grin… But a good heart.

It looked worse than it acted, in all honesty. You were team Patty on this one.

“What…?” Dante side eyed you, noticing your endeared giggle and pleased expression.

“Well. You’re one hell of a dad, big guy. That’s all.” You answered in a sing-song tune, incredibly satisfied to be having that conversation mid-Halloween job with your half-demon life partner. “Best dad material I could’ve ever wished for. Really.”

And there it was, your life-long ability of making Dante speechless. It was something Vergil would almost always applaud if he was around, but you rarely left Dante speechless over thoughtful feelings in front of other people – those moments were mostly reserved to yourselves.

He immediately tucked his hands in the pockets of his pants – and you could almost say he was blushing. Dante turned pensive in the blink of an eye, and you couldn’t help but smile.

A father. He never really saw himself becoming one or even being one – and his expectations would be to be terrible at it, like his old man before him. Not that Sparda was a horrible dad when he was around, but he wasn’t. When Dante, Vergil and Eva needed the most, Sparda was nowhere to be seen. He never really knew what happened to him – just disappeared from the world and left them with the curse of his blood and stain of his name.

You knew very much what you were doing when you said he was great father material. You wanted Dante to feel proud of that – eventually, because he would have very much conflicting feelings about being seen as a dad… Mostly because, like everything else in his personal life, his immediate reaction would be to think he would absolutely suck at it.

Dante wasn’t the best at receiving heartfelt, sincere compliments. You were well-aware of that.

That’s why you had a personal mission to make him understand how amazing he was in your eyes – one compliment at a time.

“Well. At least I didn’t inherit that from my ol’ man.” He finally said out loud, looking back at you and flashing a half-smile on his lips. “Creepy-ass demons aside, you’re stayin’ under my radar today, hot stuff. With someone like yourself around, I’m gonna have to worry about demons tryna marry you every Halloween now.”

“Oh, please…” You rolled your eyes with his answer, making Dante immediately laugh in response. He was teasing, of course, but there was a sting of truth to his words. “That was… Awful. I hope it never happens again. If I have to wear one of those horrid wedding gowns again, I swear… I’m gonna start throwing punches.”

“Sucker punchin’ demons down the aisle, what an entrance!” Dante had to laugh alongside you – the previous Halloween had been one hell of a ride to say the least. “But hey, I’ll always be around to tear those horrible clothes off you, babe.”

“Oh, and that you do quite well, you devil…” You had to giggle in return as Dante had the cockiest grin slapped on his lips. Oh, how you loved bantering with your red devil.

Alas, it was Halloween, and all that sweet talking with your beloved red devil would have to wait. You two had finally arrived back at the hotel you were staying with the whole crew – courtesy of the inhabitants of the very western looking little town that called your services for that night.

Something had been brewing for quite a while: you and Dante had noticed it, but you weren’t able to actually identify what in the hell was going on. Ever since the disco incident with the hellish imps in Redgrave, it didn’t slip past your fingers that random summoning of demons was increasing around smaller cities – the hellish imps were probably a group that detached from the original summoning point and decided to wreak mischief right at the Devil May Cry’s backyard.

One city, though, seemed to be the most affected. Silverstone was quite small compared to Redgrave, but very much a tourist town. It thrived on its western look and it took pride in being known as a place that could take its visitors back in time to years of salons, gold rushes, wanted posters and duels at noon. Recently, though, the tourists were a little bit scared and decided to avoid the place, and with reason: demons were becoming increasingly common around the area.

There wasn’t much to do against it, for the demons seemed to come from the desert, at night, with a thirst for blood and human flesh – leaving only destruction in its wake. The political leaders of the city were taking too long to figure out what to do, so the tradespeople of Silverstone decided to come together and take matters into their own hands.

With a little council formed – mostly with owners of hotels, cafés, restaurants, shops, and every other kind of business that could benefit from tourists – you had quite the interesting proposition at the Devil May Cry for that year’s Halloween night.

*

“C’mon in! Door’s open!”

It was a chilly autumn evening at the Devil May Cry – nothing really eventful happening, so you took the opportunity to kick Dante off his chair and help you organize the shop a little bit. He didn’t complain – after all, things were a lot better after you came into his life; organizing the shop was one of those things.

You didn’t expect a knock on the heavy doors of the Devil May Cry, though. Since Dante was near the kitchen and your hands were busy putting your swords away on their rightful place at the wall right behind the desk, telling the random customer to come in was the best way to welcome them.

“Didn’t know it was time for a ‘Fall cleanin’ at this place! Looks like you can work miracles, after all.” That raspy voice and the smell of cigar was unmistakable. You giggled as you turned around to greet him.

“Well, you know how I roll, Morrison. If I can’t work miracles, I don’t even show up.” You rested your hands on your waist, having a cocky smile on your lips – which made Morrison laugh in return.

“I sure do hope you people can work miracles alright, pal.” What you did not expect to see, was Morrison’s client: a man well into his sixties, huge white mustache curled up at the ends, wearing light jeans, snake leather boots, checkered button up shirt to his neck and a white, quite imposing, cowboy hat – which he took off to greet you respectfully, revealing his combed back white hair.

“Well, if you call closin’ the Gates of Hell a miracle, we’ve been known to work those from time to time, Colonel Sanders.” As soon as Dante finished his sentence, you closed your eyes, controlling yourself not to giggle. You never wanted to seem rude to customers, but you had to admit, having a cowboy in the shop was a first. A cowboy other than Dante, that is. “Halloween is approachin’ and we’ve been havin’ more spooks than the usual around. Is that what this is ‘bout?”

The Colonel Sanders cowboy gazed at Morrison as if asking if the man had briefed Dante in advance. As the red devil sat on his huge chair, you rested on the edge of the desk, crossing your arms and allowing a proud smile to spread across your lips – Dante always played the goofy, reckless rockstar card, but he was far from being naïve and, how his twin liked to call him, foolish. When it came to his job, he was quick to notice patterns and underlying intentions of demons – and, since your hellish imp disco job, he had been keeping an eye on the increase of devils in and around Redgrave.

Oh, yes. You were more than proud to call him your lover.

“Told ya. He might not look like much, but he’s good.” Morrison answered the man’s look, making you giggle a bit. You could feel Dante glaring at you – the ‘he might not look like much’ would come up later, in a teasing and friendly banter between you both. “You guessed it, Dante. There’s a lot goin’ on, but I’ll let Mr. Carson here do the explainin’.”

“I take it you’re not from the city, Mr.” Dante pointed at the man’s hat, as Morrison moved to his favorite spot on the shop’s couch and the man approached the desk.

“Ye, not from around, indeed. Call me Buck.” The man took his time to shake Dante’s hand and yours – with a strong grip, but not as rough as you expected. You had to admit, you were a lot more familiar with rougher hands – like Dante’s. “I’m from Silverstone, you people probably heard of it.”

“Hmmm. Up north, smaller city. Got the name because of the silver mines around; one of the biggest cities back in the day, right?” You had to pull the mental map you had in your head to find Silverstone – it was a touristic city you had always wanted to visit but never really got the chance, hence why you knew so much about it. Also, it was good knowing maps by heart when you had to count on Nico driving you somewhere: you had been lost a couple of times with Nero, Dante and Vergil and it was chaotic, to say the least.

“Yes, pal, and we take pride in that!” Buck’s mustache smiled to hear you knew about his small town – something he didn’t really expect from people in big cities. Dante also looked at you, with his eyebrows raised, as you only looked back at him with a matter-of-fact expression in your eyes. He called you a know-it-all sometimes, but he actually loved that about you.

Vergil was a whole different kind of know-it-all – as per his words, the asshole kind.

“We been havin’ problems in Silverstone lately… Demon problems.” Buck’s dark brown eyes now turned serious, drawing yours and Dante’s attention. “It started with some small, flyin’ things. Annoyin’ little folk who liked to upset the cattle and do all kinds of mischief devilry around the city; they were drivin’ the tradespeople mad. But nothin’ a good ol’ rifle couldn’t solve. Some men and women took ‘em as target practice.”

“Hellish imps. You’re talking about hellish imps.” And even though you had a smile on your lips, you couldn’t look more annoyed. Dante couldn’t hold back a laugh.

“They’re easy to kill, but annoyin’ as hell.” He shook his head, remembering finding you in the disco, hopelessly chained to a chair, while the imps from Hell messed around with your stuff while Stayin’ Alive blasted through the amps. It was a sight to see – a funny, but rather cute one. “We also had some problems with ‘em recently.”

“Well, if we had only those… Hellish imps, you said… ‘Round the town, folks would take care of ‘em, no need for help. After a month, I think, it got worse.” Buck’s face turned somber and his shoulders seemed to recoil to himself – even if he was a naturally imposing kind of guy, it looked like he got a little smaller… Fearful, even. “Folks from farms started reportin’ dead cattle – not your usual disease or random poisonin’ from eatin’ bad food, no, poor cattle were bein’ torn to shreds; all blood drained. Some of us decided to take a look…” Buck shook his head, letting out a heavy sigh. “Overnight, farms turned into fields worse than slaughterhouses. I never seen anythin’ like it. And it was random too: some cattle dead, some alive.”

“Hmmm. Demons do have a thirst for blood, but only lesser ones wouldn’t risk going after armed humans.” You pondered, your memory going back to all the things you read in the Codex Daemonica. It was the best knowledge reference you knew… After Dante and Vergil. “You might’ve grown a reputation of being too tough for them not to attack you right away.”

“We tried to keep our lil’ town as protected as we could, pal.” Buck now had a thankful smile on his mustache, proud to hear someone like you appreciated their efforts and courage. “That didn’t keep those things at bay, though. We tried all superstition and priests to keep those things away. Some of us even tried shootin’ some in the dark, but they kept comin’ back. Farmers would be terrorized inside their houses at night, keepin’ their families safe and prayin’ they wouldn’t wake up to their cattle mutilated.” The man’s thick, white eyebrows met in the middle of his forehead, eyes turning somber once again. “We were fightin’, pal. Keepin’ things together as we could. ‘Til that thunderstorm; rumblin’ in the skies like the devil’s herd themselves, crossin’ our path to bring our doom.”

You felt a chill dripping down your spine, rearranging yourself at the edge of Dante’s desk as if you were trying to make your sitting spot more comfortable. You weren’t one to fear any sort of devilish stories – quite the contraire, you and Dante heard those with enthusiasm and even let out some good laughs while at it – but you had to give it to that cowboy. He knew how to tell an ominous story, and that was a rare find.

He would be a certified success at camps, telling ghost stories by a bonfire at night.

“Thunderstorm, huh? That’s no small demon.” Dante suddenly turned serious – and when that happened, play time was over.

“Nothin’ small indeed. The cattle mutilation got worse, if you can imagine. Their blood, their parts… Gone. Some folk in the city tried to see what was goin’ on, and they did see somethin’: dark figures, watchin’ us from over the hills. Always when the night was approachin’, when the horror would begin. The ones who tried to fight back… Well…” Buck sighed, taking a little embroidered handkerchief from his pockets and drying some of the sweat that started to appear between his bushy white brows. “We lost our first townspeople. Good folk. Fair, hardworkin’ people. Good with a rifle too.”

“I know it’s a rather insensitive question, but it’s important, Mr. Carson…” You immediately apologized before you could even ask what you had in mind – after all, you could see the sorrow in the man’s eyes. Sorrowful cowboys had your heart softened like ice cream melting on summer, and you had Dante to blame over that. “But were there bodies? If so, did they have anything missing…?”

“Hmmm, yeah, they had some parts missin’… Mostly hair, nails… One of them, those things they… Well, they…” Buck sighed once more, putting the handkerchief away. You and Dante were used to that sort of horror – having contact with someone who didn’t work in the business like you did was definitely grounding as to what was considered horrible or not. “They took tongues and teeth too. A grim sight, pal, a grim sight… They all had their throats slit, clean cut, pale with their eyes frozen in fear. Forever starin’ at the thing that took their life.”

“Wait, you said clean cut…? As in a blade cut?” Dante had both his arms on his table now, leaning forward with interest as his eyebrows betrayed the confusion that information caused him. “Not an animal’s claw?”

“Nah, friend, that was definitely a blade. I know my animals, and I’m a pretty decent tracker along with some folks who like to hunt together sometimes. We know what’s a cut from a knife and a cut from a beast. Even those beasts you two been huntin’.” Buck shook his head affirmatively with so much conviction you couldn’t doubt his words. “Every single throat was slashed with a blade, maybe a huntin’ knife. The rest that was taken… Well, I dunno. I don’t wanna think a human could’ve done somethin’ so monstrous to someone else. That’s gotta be those demons of yours… After all, they come back every night.”

“And they kill humans every night as well? How many so far?” You maybe had something in your mind, but things were actually quite foggy. Some things didn’t add up – and, judging by Dante’s expression, he was on the same page as you.

“Not every night, no. We’ve been keepin’ ourselves safe. We’ve been sleepin’ together at big places: hotels, churches, markets. Barricade the doors, guards with rifles takin’ turns so everyone has a chance to rest, town watch to keep an eye on the dark figures on the hills… But sometimes, that’s not enough, friend. Sometimes, one of us gets lost and the body turns up the next day.” Buck lowered his head, shaking it right after. “It took us some time to find out how to fight back. We never knew there were… Professionals in dealin’ with those things. We thought we were abandoned to our own doom and nothin’ could save us, until a random couple from Redgrave said a man named Dante might be able to help our lil’ town. Gave us a number, and Morrison picked up.”

“Well, it’s a good thing you found us, then.” You smiled back, trying to lift up the mood a little bit – something that was quite impossible, but you pitied the man. You just wanted to see cowboys smiling; again, something you would always blame Dante for.

“I hope so, friend.” His mustache curled up on a small smile and you already had some more joy in your heart. Dante almost laughed upon seeing you so happy from trying to cheer up a client – you would always do the best you could, and you would always let your heart open to empathy. Something so human, and so lovely to his eyes. “Folks in town weren’t so sure ‘bout me comin’ all the way down to Redgrave to check this ‘devil hunter’, but it’s the last chance we got. We decided to risk it.”

“Your gamble paid off, pal. You got me interested – and, if you’re payin’, you got me hired.” Dante sighed back in his classic nonchalant way, already getting up from his chair, offering his hand to close the deal.

“That won’t be a problem. A job well-done is a job well-paid – you get rid of those horrors in Silverstone, the whole town will be more than willin’ to compensate you, pal.” Buck put his hat back on, shaking Dante’s hand. “I’ll be goin’ back to town tomorrow first time in the mornin’ –”

“Ya don’t have to worry. We can keep up.”

The biggest smile in the room was Morrison’s: he always got a commission whenever he found a job for you and Dante, so the promise of the whole town being monetarily thankful to you both was a great prospect for him as well. As Morrison and Buck Carson left the shop, and you all said your goodbyes, Dante went around the desk, slightly leaning on it by your side while keeping his arms crossed and eyes on the door – just like you.

“Demons don’t usually use blades.” You finally said what you both thought was so weird about all that story.

“And when they do, they’re not the chaotic bunch of the imps. They’re much worse.” Dante agreed with you, his voice now serious and pensive.

“What do you think? Hell Generals? Higher rank demons?” You furrowed your brows a bit, looking up to his reflective face. “Angelos…?”

“Might be… Might be all of them, might be just one.” Dante sighed, slouching a bit on his desk while blankly staring at the heavy wooden doors of the Devil May Cry. “We’ll only figure it out when we get to Silverstone.”

“Hmmm. I guess you’re right.” After your own sigh, you did your best to reach out to his face and place a rather long kiss on his rough jaw – making Dante look back at you quite confused, breaking his blank stare and having life back into those sky-blue eyes. “You’re very handsome when you’re brooding, cowboy, did you know that?”

“Oh, you like it when I’m serious, sheriff?” And even if he kept his straight expression, you could hear the fun teasing and loving notes in Dante’s voice. “Maybe I’ve to play the ‘stoic cowboy’ more often to ya.”

“Eh, I love you anyway, red devil. You don’t have to play any roles for me.” You shrugged, giggling as Dante’s hands already pulled you closer to him, sneaking around your waist. “Blame it on that handsome face of yours.”

“Ya think I’m handsome, then…?” And now he had a bit of his goofy smile on his lips, hell bent on teasing you for the rest of the night. You knew exactly what you were getting yourself into – and, considering every single Halloween prior to this one, that kind of break would be very welcome. You could feel it in your bones. “My sheriff has a thing for handsome devils, huh?”

“For one handsome devil. I’m pretty committed, you know…?” You finally allowed him to playfully kiss your lips, both of you smiling between pecks. “I’m not one to think everyone is handsome. I have standards.”

“Oh, and this cowboy here is your kind of standard, yeah?”

“You bet you are, Dante.” With the certainty of your voice and the way you pulled his head to a deeper kiss, something ignited in Dante’s chest. You knew exactly how to get him going – and he would never complain about that.

“Ok, sheriff. You got what you wished for!” Breaking the kiss, Dante immediately lifted you in his arms, carrying you bridal style throughout the shop and up the stairs. “Undivided attention from your handsome devil tonight, no refunds!”

“See? You surpass every standard I may have, babe!” You giggled, leaving a few kisses on his neck.

That was something you both learned after a few couple life-threatening, serious jobs: always seize the moment you had before the storm; enjoy every kiss and every touch you could with each other prior to one of those dangerous gigs – it could very well be the last chance you would have.

*

“Well, well, rise and shine! Got enough of your beauty sleep?” Of course, Dante had to tease his nephew – or it wouldn’t be Dante.

“Yeah, maybe you should try it too. Be lookin’ too much like an old man, soon they’ll be mistakin’ you for Santa.” Nero’s answer was as sharp as his sword, perfect for a punk like him. You had to wheeze, receiving a side-eye from your red devil.

“What?” You shrugged back, while Kyrie stopped by the porch of the grand Wild West looking hotel you were all staying – property of Buck Carson – worriedly observing the hills in the distance against the orange sky. “You kinda asked for it. Santa.”

“Great.” Dante’s smile was poisoned with annoyance. “Lil’ angel is comin’ along too?”

“Nah, I don’t think it’s a good idea…” Nero started mumbling, and you could see it in his face: it was a topic of discussion between them both. Kyrie was brave and wanted to save people, while Nero was overprotective and wanted to save her at all costs. After the almost marriage, he became a little worse. “There’s plenty of people to help here in town…”

“The demons might have kidnapped and hurt people already, wherever they are.” Kyrie’s hazelnut eyes focused back on Nero – determined, but still kind. “If so, those people need help. You can kill the demons, but I can help the people.” She turned her eyes to you, like an accomplice. “It’s what we have been doing for a while now.”

“Yeah, it backfired last year. With both of ya.” Nero added, having you looking back at him with surprise, resting your hands on your hips. That was bold of him, to talk to you like that. He was your honorary nephew, after all.

You finally felt the pang of a parent being antagonized by their child and you were ready to give him your very first scolding – what a Halloween already.

“Eh, have to agree with the kid on that one.” But Dante got in the way first, and now your surprised gaze turned to your red devil – who immediately picked it up and was quite used to some scolding. “Ei, I’m just sayin’, babe! Last year, you both got yourselves in a pickle, this close to marryin’ a demon in a ceremony that would be a real pain in the ass to nullify if it had happened.” And Dante wouldn’t argue if he wasn’t worried himself: if it was just him, Vergil or Nero being headstrong about something stupid, he would let it go – but it was about you. And your safety was a subject he would never let go. “Cut us some slack here, will ya? We’re just tryna keep ya safe.”

You and Kyrie never looked so conflicted in your entire lifetimes up until that point. There you were, standing on the porch side by side, hands on your waists, ready to rebuke them like the most annoyed family member of the year – but how could you when your partners were only being that annoying because you were so important to them, the only thing they cared about was keeping you both safe?

You wanted to argue and kiss Dante, all at the same time – and Kyrie perfectly understood your conflict, because she wanted to do precisely the same with Nero.

“Well, you don’t want me to stay here in town, do you?” You finally asked the million dollar question. If you couldn’t disarm them with the old ‘you’re-worrying-too-much’ scolding, you had to appeal to logic. “I’m a devil hunter. I go on jobs by myself. I’m as important as Nero or you, big guy, on this one. Kyrie has been training with Nero for a year now to be able to protect herself on the field whenever she needs to come along to help people, and she’s been helping me a lot last couple of jobs. Even killed some demons herself.” With those words, Kyrie’s hazelnut eyes found yours with pride in them. You remembered telling her how Credo would be proud, and how emotional she got. Since then, she was becoming even fiercer, but still keeping her sweet kindness, only resorting to violence if she had no other option at hand. “If you think we can’t handle ourselves, then all that talk about humans being even stronger than demons is bullshit, and you only say that to feel better about yourselves. Your actions must match your words if you really believe in something, you know.”

Nero and Dante just stared back at you like two wet dogs who did something terribly wrong and now we're being lectured by their owner and asking for forgiveness. Not even in their wildest dreams they could’ve thought such calm words could make them feel so small and embarrassed for their actions. They were completely speechless, trying to find an argument back and trying to keep their pose – but failing miserably.

“Damn, did you go to Vergil’s school of winnin’ an argument…?” Dante shook his head, having his hands on his waist now – and a slight smile on his lips. “You know I do believe in that. You two get in trouble, I’m killin’ the bastard who touched you. That’s it for me.”

“Eh, that’s it for me too…” Nero scratched the back of his head, not being able to counter your logic. “But I’m stayin’ close to you, Kyrie!”

“Heeeeeey there, you suckers! Your magical ride arrived for the night!” Nico appeared just at the right moment, tires singing on the pavement as she parked the van. “Gotta say, the mechanic in town is pretty good! Not like me, of course, but we tuned up a few things that needed some fixin’ and the van is workin’ fine!”

That was enough to get Nero bantering with Nico and Dante on his way to the van, ready to get to work. You and Kyrie followed along together, with her entangling her arm on yours as you went down the stairs of the hotel’s entrance porch.

“That was good! Point for us!” She whispered to you while giggling, making you mirror her actions.

“Hey, I learned with the best.” You pointed back at Kyrie, a satisfied smile appearing on her lips. “Nothing like treating the Spardas like the kids at the orphanage.”

“Oh, a little bit of gentle authority goes a long way with Nero. Dante’s like that too, right?”

“You have no idea. Best thing I’ve ever learned from you.”

“Ei! Can you both stop gossipin’ and get on the van already…?” Nero tried to look annoyed and maintain the punk attitude but you both could see how that was cracking and his whole body looked a lot gentler than his words sounded.

“Eh, kid, we just lost all credibility. Time to accept that.” Dante gave his nephew a pat on the back as he hopped on the van, already used to that kind of situation. Nero just blushed as you both giggled together and he helped Kyrie up while you followed your red devil in.

Plopping right by his side, Dante was calmly reading one of the many magazines about gunsmithing. You scooted near him, landing a quick kiss on his jaw – his eyes finally looking back at you, a half-smile hidden on his lips.

“You know I love you, right?”

“Hell yeah I do, hot stuff.” And he landed a quick peck on your forehead. “I love you too.”

Dante’s attention got back to his magazine as Nico kickstarted the van and you took one of your guns of its case to check if everything was in order before the job. Nero sat by Kyrie’s side like a guard dog while she talked about something completely unrelated to hunting with the gunsmith virtuosa at the wheel.

With the sun almost hiding behind the hills, tainting everything in blood-orange, you all failed to notice the dark figures following your every footsteps and the tires of the van as you plunged in the night to find the demons terrorizing the little town of Silverstone.

*

You had to be fair to Nico: driving in the middle of a dark desert wasn’t an easy task. You were engulfed by a sea of darkness and the only light on the highway was that of the van. Granted, there was nothing for Nico to crash the vehicle on, but she wasn’t leaving the road either.

“What you’re seein’ today, is the new town. A few miles away, there’s the old town of Silverstone – the original, if you will.”

As soon as the sun shone in the sky that morning, you called Kyrie and briefed them of the job – which, of course, they were eager to be part of. Buck led you all to the city: riding ahead with Morrison in his truck, followed by the Devil May Cry van… And Dante riding the Cavaliere with you safely holding your red devil’s waist, as you always enjoyed the motorcycle rides.

He introduced you to all the members of the small council of townspeople who decided to take those hellish matters in their own hands and end the horrors – and soon, you were having a meeting to understand where the damn demons were coming from.

“It all started as a silver mine, closer to the hills. Folks started to settle around, built a church and soon, Silverstone was born.” An old woman, Frances Campbell, explained with a map opened on a big table at the hotel’s party room – the common areas now filled with mattresses tossed around and families refusing to dare set a foot outside; be it day or night. “The town was hit with a wave of prosperity, and even more people tried their luck in Silverstone. Soon, there were too many people for such a small little town – and that’s when the town you’re in was born.”

“Why change the location of the town, ma’am?” Kyrie had her attentive eyes analyzing the map and, as always, made the most insightful questions. “Was there something wrong with the initial town?”

“Nothin’ at all, my dear. At least at the beginning.” Frances added, fixing the thin glasses that were starting to slide down the bridge of her nose. “The original town was closer to the mines, but not the water. Silverstone now is a lot closer to the main river in the region.”

“Well, whenever there’s a peak of prosperity, there’s a peak of greed too; at least in my experience.” Dante crossed his arms, also studying the map.

You did love when he got all professional. That’s how you ended up showering him with kisses the previous night.

“And that you are right, Mr. Devil Hunter.” The woman pointed at Dante as a teacher does when a student makes a smart remark – you remembered Buck mentioning she was a retired professor, and you could see she still had that in her. “And with greed, comes crime. People started tryin’ to take advantage of each other, steal, cheat, murder… Everythin’ you hear in ol’ Wild West stories.”

“The type of thing that attracts demons. Maybe that’s why they decided to appear now…?” You furrowed your brows and looked at Dante, but he too had a not so sure expression. “It was long ago, though, as you are saying, ma’am. It’s a long shot, but I’m trying to understand here why demons attacking Silverstone of all places all of a sudden.”

“Well, rumors started goin’ around the town back then, of a man who made a deal with the devil.” And that made all of you even more attentive, as a pack of dogs who hear a favorite word. “He was the richest of Silverstone, built a huge mansion in the old town… Died a horrible death: he got caught in the middle of a stampede. People never found his horse, nor the cattle and the drovers, but they found his body teared in pieces across the desert.”

“How did they know it was a stampede, then…?” And you would never tell him as not to hurt his pride, but Nero looked like a child hearing a spooky story by a bonfire.

“There were roof marks everywhere. Some parts of the sand seemed burned, as if the roofs were made of hot steel.” The lady’s voice was ominous and you did think she and Buck would make one hell of a couple. Maybe that could be your side quest for that Halloween, if there was something close to a spark between them. They would be an absolute banger at the spooky orphanage parties. “The townspeople said the devil had come to collect his part of the bargain for all the money the man got of his contract. Soon, the man’s wife died in an accident at home, and strange, usually deadly, happenin’s started occurring at the mansion. Everyone left and the building was considered haunted. The town started havin’ more and more issues involving death and horrible accidents, and soon everyone believed the man had cursed them from beyond the grave. That’s when the townspeople decided it was time to build a better version of Silverstone.”

“Nothin’ like an old, power-hungry bastard to bring down a whole city…” Nero mumbled more to himself than to anyone else while reading the map – but everyone could feel who he was really talking about. Wherever Vergil was at his Halloween job at the moment, you were certain he was feeling a sting from being stabbed by his own son in the distance. “Gotta a name for this as-Gentleman…?”

You couldn’t hold back a wheeze when Kyrie elbowed Nero so he wouldn’t curse so much in front of Frances, and tried to correct himself.

“Beau Blackwell. My grandma knew him, snob fellow. She never liked him too much, and kept cursin’ his troubled soul ‘til the day she went to the grave herself.”

“The Campbell ladies were never the kind to mess with, that’s for certain.” Buck finally arrived back, having both his hands hanging at the edge of his belt, his moustache smiling to Frances. “Grandma Campbell was a tough one.”

“That she was. Ol’ Blackwell didn’t even try to get in her way.” She had a proud smile back in her thin lips, a spark igniting in her smart eyes as soon as Buck Carson arrived.

Oh, you knew that spark. Your side quest for Halloween was on.

“And what did your grandma think of this Blackwell guy, ma’am? He had a deal?” For Dante, that was the most important information at the moment. A contract could indicate a whole number of things, but there was a good chance the old town had at least one good demon summoning place – at worst, a door to the underworld itself.

“She sure thought he did. As far as she said, Blackwell was a useless wimp who couldn’t find a slab of silver if it was paradin’ naked right in front of his nose.” So far, Nico was serious and didn’t get much into the demon talk – probably studying the map and all the routes in and out of the old town, as she always did. But the whole naked silver slab thing made you and her have to hold a wheeze – Nico failing and trying to mask it with a cough. “He also got to marry the sheriff’s daughter, the most beautiful and smart woman around back then – and the one all men fought to get. For some reason, the woman fell head over heels for a spineless shrimp like Beau.”

“Doesn’t look like she was that smart after all.” Buck shrugged. “I always thought that was the Campbell’s title.”

Oh, yes. Buck was genuinely head over heels for his Frances – and judging by the way she glared him back, with a smart smile on her lips, it was corresponded.

“We kinda got the title after she chose that ass.” With Frances’ answer, Nero couldn’t help but beam a proud smile: if she was cursing, he could curse as well. “The fact is, Blackwell was suddenly hit with a wave of luck that was very much out of character. And then, found death in the most mysterious and grim circumstances.”

“Yeah. That has the foul smell of a demon contract right there…” Dante was pensive again, now looking at the map. “Is the ol’ Blackwell mansion easy to find?”

“Pretty easy, Mr. Devil Hunter. It’s the biggest one in the ol’ town, bigger even than the church. Damn Blackwell was a show-off with all that money of his.”

“Well, it sounds more and more like a contract to me.” Dante sighed, looking back at Frances and Buck. “If they’re watchin’ Silverstone from the hills and there’s that much history in the ol’ town, I think it’s safe to say that’s where the demons are comin’ from. Either way, we’re checkin’ it tonight.”

“Tonight?” Buck’s eyebrows met in the middle of his forehead, Frances copying his worried expression. “Don’t you prefer to go durin’ the day, when those creatures aren’t out?”

“Eh, I can’t put on much of a show if there aren’t any demons to kill, can I?” Dante shrugged and you had to smile. Buck had a point, but you knew the best time to check would be at night: if they were attacking when the sun was gone, that’s when you would find them. Prior to that, you risked finding anything at all. “Besides, I got the cavalry with me. We’ll be fine and you’ll be out of demons in no time.”

With the van riding in pitch-black darkness, though, you couldn’t make out any shapes in the distance: you would only see the creatures on the hills if you had the moon behind it – but it seemed like even the moon herself was hidden that night.

It was eerily quiet as well. You had checked your guns and your sword, making sure everything was in pristine condition. Now that you had nothing else to do, you were watching outside and paying attention to your surroundings – and there weren’t many noises. There were just a few sounds here and there that you couldn’t quite isolate and figure out what it was. But it felt, familiar in an off putting kind of way.

“Ei, sheriff. Everything ok there?” Dante’s voice took you out of your thoughts, and you turned your attention to him. “Your eyebrow will soon look like just one, the way you’re frownin’ there, hot stuff. What’s wrong?”

“Hmmm… I dunno…” You murmured back, trying to relax your eyebrows a little bit. That made Dante smile. “I have a… Feeling.”

“A feelin’, huh? What kind of feelin’, pretty eyes?” And even if he had that easygoing tone sprinkled in his voice and attitude, Dante did take on a more serious demeanor. “Good one? Bad one…?”

“A… Weird one. I can’t quite tell if it’s good or bad…” You had your worried expression back on, trying to understand what the hell was that thing stirring in your heart. Your feelings were notorious between you and Dante: he said it was your spidey-sense tingling, even if you didn’t have any heritage like his. “I just know something is wrong. I’m not feeling like things are completely… Ok.”

“Have they ever been ok in this family, y/n?” Nero had to put his two cents in the conversation, immediately making you a little less worried – and giggling with his question. “But hey, if you’re feelin’ somethin’s wrong, we should have our guard up.”

“Well put, kid. Y/n’s spidey-sense is no joke.”

“It’s not a spidey-sense, c’mon…” You rolled your eyes, already smiling with your red devil and honorary nephew.

But the moment couldn’t last for too long: soon, the van jumped in the air, as if it had aggressively ran over something.

“Hey, Nico! What the fuckin’ hell was that?!” Nero held Kyrie’s waist so she wouldn’t fly around the van – and only after you checked on them, you realized Dante had the very same reaction, but holding you close to him.

If you flew around, you would fly around together. You jump, I jump, as Jack Dawson would say.

“I’ve no idea!!”

“Don’t’cha know how to drive anymore?!” And now Nero stumbled over to the driver’s seat, as Nico stopped the van with a screech. He almost stamped on the front window like a sticker. “What the fuck is goin’ on?!”

“Why don’t you do the drivin’, if you’re so good yourself, huh?!” Nico fixed her glasses on her face, hands trembling and flailing everywhere. “I dunno what happened! It wasn’t an animal, nothin’ like that!! It was too fast and I didn’t see it! One minute, the road was clear, the other, I hit somethin’ and went over it!!”

“Oh, maybe it was a coyote or a wolf trying to cross the road…!” Kyrie’s heart was almost coming out of her throat, but you could all hear the tone of worry in her voice.

“It can very well be, those animals are common around here.” You had your own hand over your heart, feeling it beating like a samba school in peak Carnaval. “They aren’t used to cars, specially this time of the night.”

“C’mon, kid. Let’s check it out.” Dante got up from the seat, leaving Rebellion behind and carrying only Ebony and Ivory in his hands. “If it’s an animal, we can’t leave the pooch agonizing out there. If it isn’t…”

“They’ll regret gettin’ in the way.” Nero answered with a smile and already reloading Blue Rose, leaving Red Queen behind with Kyrie. “You better stay in the van.”

“Was that for me as well? ‘Cause you know, I got my own set of cool guns, too.” You looked back at Dante, waving your dual guns around – and winning a quick laugh from him.

“Hey, if it’s nothin’, it’s just trouble for you, pretty eyes. If it is somethin’, well, thank you’re more than welcome to join the party.” With those words, he winked back at you and left the van with Nero.

You remained close to the van’s door, telling Kyrie to seat beside Nico on the driver’s seat. None of you could really see what was going on: the only thing in front of you was the dark road and endless miles of pitch-black desert. For Kyrie and Nico, it was no different; although they had the headlights to light up a few meters ahead.

You could hear their steps as they quietly approached whatever it was that Nico ran over. Awfully quiet for the both of them. That feeling you had before only tightened in your chest, reverberating even more, almost making you forget how to breathe. Those seconds dragged like feet drenched in quicksand, trying to move but unable to get anywhere.

Until you heard a gunshot.

Before you could even ask what was going on, a dead demon flew over the van and landed on the hood with a loud noise, staring at all of you with its dead eyes and blood splattering everywhere – which made Nico and Kyrie immediately start screaming, almost hugging each other.

You jumped out of the van, finding Nero and Dante surrounded by demons – low tier demons, though, nothing you three couldn’t handle together. Wielding your dual guns, you started to shoot as fast as Dante had taught you.

Not as fast as he did, though. That was his demonic blood at work.

“Where did they come from?” You ran up to him, standing with your back to your red devil’s back – that way, you both could cover a larger area.

“No idea, babe. We were checkin’ out the dead one. Don’t move!” With those words, Dante used the dead demon as leverage to jump right above you and pull off his classic spinning move with Ebony and Ivory. With you in the middle, right below him, it was impossible to hit you.

You had to be fair: you would always be impressed when he did that and managed to keep you safe while slaughtering all the demons around you in one single move.

When you were least expecting, though, a blade flew by your side – superficially slashing your upper right cheek, but enough to make a constant flow of blood trail down your face.

Dark figures were approaching – like the ones the townsfolk described. You, Nero and Dante were already expecting higher rank demons; the ones who were really behind all that mess.

Until you all heard a motorcycle noise.

“What the…?!” Before Nero could finish cursing, though, you all turned around only to find a set of motorcycles running right into your direction. If Nero hadn’t grabbed you and dodged right away, you would certainly end up with a nasty injury.

You counted quickly. There were around sixteen of those dark figures, including the ones on foot and the ones on the motorcycles. One of them held an amulet that glowed with a blood red light in the dark, creating dark seals on the floor – the ones that summoned more of the lesser demons from the underworld.

That was where they were coming from.

“Nico, hit the gas! Get the hell out of here!” Nero immediately screamed, assessing the situation the same way as you did: it was a very bad situation.

“But…!”

“Now’s not the time to argue, Goldstein!” Dante’s voice was almost a roar – and Nico rarely heard him calling her like that. It was enough to make the gunsmith virtuosa get the van running. “Y/n…!”

“Ah, hell no, big guy! I’m not leaving without you!” You roared back, already shooting one of the demons that tried to attack Dante. The van’s tires screeched on the road as Nico turned it around abruptly to go back the way you came from – back to the new town of Silverstone. In a safer place, they could figure out what to do. “You jump, I jump! No refunds!”

Dante’s heart didn’t know if it wanted to jump out of his chest from desperation of having you in such a situation or from elation of you loving him so much as to put yourself in danger.

It was probably because of both.

“Kid! Y/n! Back to back, the three of us! C’mon!” He didn’t even had to say it again: soon, you had Dante’s and Nero’s backs to yours, the three devil hunters making it rain bullets over the demons. The motorcycles tried to approach, but you would always threaten them with killer shots.

With Dante’s sharp eyes in the dark, he eventually hit one of the motorcycles in such a way it crashed a few meters away from you. With the right shot, he could make it explode – and it was a strategy to use. He just wanted some more of those goofs to approach, so he could take a lot of them at the same time.

One of the motorcycles, though, decided to be brave – or suicidal, depending on your point of view – and try to run through the three of you, almost running you over. This time, though, your reflexes were quick enough to dodge in time, but that made you three separate.

“Alright… You clowns are startin’ to piss me off…” With that rumbling comment from Dante, he held out his hand, summoning Devil Sword Dante in a blaze of fire.

You could hear Nero groaning – he definitely missed Red Queen at the moment and ever since Dante managed to summon his two main swords, Nero always complained he couldn’t be that cool while fighting.

Understandable. You were missing your very own sword – you could only wish you could make it come over to you that easily.

At this point, you were pretty sure you would win. As Dante slaughtered the demons – and whatever figure who tried to come any closer – the odds were certainly in your favor. You helped with some shots here and there, aiding his kills and getting the job done.

Until you felt your fingers tingling. Furrowing your brows, you looked down only to see your hands trembling. Your vision became blurry, as the world suddenly tilted under your feet. The gash in your cheek burned with the wrath of the fires of hell.

“What the…” You mumbled, opening and closing your eyes a few times. You could barely hear Nero calling your name: it seemed like he was stuck inside a tin can. “Nero… Dante…?”

“Ei, babe, what’s…” Dante lowered his sword and, before he could finish asking, the dark figure with the amulet finally stepped near enough for you to see it was nothing but a human – which he confirmed when he lowered the hood of the dark robe he, and the other humans, were wearing. “You better start talkin’ before I decide to cut off that ugly head of yours. What’s goin’ on?!”

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquittance, son of Sparda.” The man allowed a calm smile to grace his lips framed by a well-maintained goatee as you felt a sting of fire coursing through your whole body. You tried to keep it in, but you couldn’t hold back a groan. “I am kindly inviting you and your… Relative…” The man gestured to Nero, still completely ignoring you and the ever so worsening pains. “To join us in the old town for a talk. We have much to discuss.”

“What the fuck did you do to y/n?”

The man looked into Dante’s blue eyes – now with some sparks of red, teeth already growing into fangs – knowing quite well all their intentions would be fumbled if Dante and Nero decided to trigger right then and there.

And that was why you were an insurance.

“It’s a simple poison, found in the underworld. If the cure isn’t administered soon enough, though, your… Pet, I take it… Will perish.” The man treated you with disdain, making Dante already try to walk towards him to have his sword on the man’s throat. The human, though, lifted his hand, showing a glowing purple vial. “No human antidote can counter it, only the demonic one. This is the only sample in miles. They have only a few minutes, if I am not wrong, and the death… Oh, it is exquisitely agonizing.”

Dante’s jaw was locked. You could barely see through your blurring vision, fighting every fiber of your being to remain on your two feet – but your red devil was tense and ready to fight… Ready to kill. If he let his demon out, there wouldn’t be a soul left to tell the story of that night.

“What do you want?” His voice had a slight tinge of distortion – as you could almost sense, Dante was a word away from triggering.

“You and your kin to put down your weapons and follow us. We have prepared a very important celebration tonight and you are the guests of honor – especially you, Tony Redgrave.” You choked upon hearing that name: very few people knew that alias and, judging by Nero’s confused reaction, even fewer than you thought. “Do this, and we shall save your… Pet.”

“Call y/n ‘pet’ again, I’ll cut your tongue off, smartass.” Dante scoffed, apparently not affected by hearing his old name from the lips of a shady character in such a desolated place. “Don’t usually trust strangers in the middle of a crossroads.”

“As proof of my good faith, son of Sparda…” With those words, the man handed the vial to one of the other hooded figures – another human like him, wearing a dark robe to their feet, keeping their head down under the hood – who approached you slowly. Dante had his eyes trained on them, watching their every move. “I’m taking the first step. Lower your weapons, and my assistant shall heal your… Human.”

You couldn’t keep yourself standing anymore. With your stomach burning, you feel to your knees, barely able to see Dante in amidst the darkness and your blurry vision. Closing your eyes, your head was in such pain you thought soon blood would run down your face instead of tears. Your heart pounded on your chest quicker than when you rode the Cavaliere with your red devil and, as much as you didn’t like to admit, you came to the conclusion that was like dying felt like.

“Alright. Do your thing then.” Dante lowered his hand and his sword was gone in a small set of flames, Ebony and Ivory being abandoned on the floor.

“What…?! Dante…!” Nero was ready to fight back, to get that vial and cure you himself, but he saw the plea in his uncle’s eyes. You were outnumbered and you were dying from a poison none of you had the cure – only them. If they wanted, they could break that vial in a million pieces and leave you to die a horrifying death. “C’mon, we can…” But even Nero didn’t know what more they could do.

“Hey, Nero. Please.” Dante’s voice had no edge of playfulness or the typical easygoing tone. He was serious, defeated even. He would allow himself to be enslaved if that meant saving you – and all he was asking was for Nero to put down his weapons.

And so he did, with Blue Rose hitting the floor right after.

As soon as the assistant inserted the purple antidote into your bloodstream, others quickly approached Nero and Dante, locking heavy silver bracelets around their wrists – immediately cutting out their demonic powers. It was a first for Nero, who stumbled around and seemed like a dizzy, drunk young man. Dante, on the other hand, knew exactly how that felt like, having gone through something similar during his time at the Temen-ni-gru. Ancient demonic wisdom, infused in those bracelets to suppress demonic power and subdue powerful demons to a weaker one’s will… Or to enslave them for eternity, as it happened to Vergil once.

“Come. The night has only just begun.”

You felt your head burning as you watched them viciously knocking down Dante and Nero – something you thought you would never see in your entire lifetime. Falling to the floor of the road, you tried to get up, barely having any strength in your arms. You would drag yourself to them if you had to, but you wouldn’t give up… At least, not until your body gave out.

“What about their… Human… Master?” The assistant checked, standing right beside you but not moving a single finger to help you up.

“Leave them. A weak thing like that deserves to die like roadkill.” The man dismissed with a quick wave of his hand, ordering the others to carry the Spardas back to the old town.

Warm tears trickled down your eyes. You tried to get up, but your body was slowly giving out – the burning sensation, though, was fading away. Indeed, the antidote was working, but your body took the toll of it.

You weren’t weak. You were not. All those years, Dante kept fighting by your side, singing your praises as one of the most powerful humans he had ever met. You defeated the worst of Hell, you faced nonstop hordes alongside your red devil. A stuck-up snob like that unknown guy had no right to call you weak. You were not weak. You were not…

Your hands started giving out as you slowly tried to claw your way to their direction – but they were already long gone and the only soul left in the middle of that desolated highway was you.

But you were human. More powerful than any demon, as Dante would say. Why couldn’t you get up, then…?

Your arms gave out and you hit your face on the warm road, eyes closing in the middle of nowhere. The last thing you heart before fainting, was a blade cutting the asphalt right next to your hand – ready for you when you opened your eyes again.

*

“What are we going to do?!”

“I don’t know!”

“We can’t just leave!”

“I know!”

“What are we going to DO?!”

“I don’t KNOW!”

That was the main conversation back and forth between Kyrie and Nico as the gunsmith virtuosa drove the highway as if the devil’s herd itself was chasing them viciously, their hot breath on their necks, ready to take their souls.

Kyrie was standing right by the driver’s seat, holding for dear life on the very thing, as Nico gripped the wheel like she never did before in her life. They both screamed while the van was practically trotting on the road, bumping on every single stone on the way since Nico couldn’t care less to dodge at that point.

It was actually very impressive she never came to swallow her cigarette.

“What do you think will happen to them?!” Kyrie immediately gripped the necklace Nero gifted her in Fortuna – she saw it as a good luck charm, and would wear it anywhere. It made her feel closer to him and, whenever she was in trouble or uncertain, touching it would make her feel safe.

But never in her life it was the other way around: this time, she was worried Nero wouldn’t be safe. And that was so new.

“I dunno! I-I-I mean... Dante will…! He will, right?!” Nico stuttered back, barely able to think. If she could, she would light five or six cigarettes in a row. “I mean he… He called me Goldstein, for Hell’s sakes! He never does that! I’m as scared as you!”

“I know! They never did that!” Kyrie was about to cry – and she didn’t even know which emotion was making her feel like overflowing. “What about y/n? All of their swords are here, they took only their handguns!”

“What?!” Nico quickly glanced back only to see the three swords calmly lounging in the van. “Oh, fuck! I mean… Well, Dante… He has that big ass flamin’ sword inside ‘im, right? He can summon at any moment…! Right?!”

“I hope he can! I’m used to Nero, I don’t know how Dante’s sword works!” Kyrie rolled her eyes in pure despair, going back in the van to check on everyone’s swords. Red Queen now looked so quiet, so… Dead. It didn’t sit well with her, not like that. It had to be with Nero. He needed his sword. “Y/n knows how Dante works!”

“Oh, be damned! We’re on a hell of a fucked-up situation here, Kyrie!”

“You don’t have to tell me that twice…” Kyrie sighed, plopping down on the couch and cradling her head with both of her hands. After a few seconds of pure desperation, the woman turned her hazelnut eyes back to the Red Queen. The sword seemed like it was ready to rev-up, burning to be back in the hands of her master – like it was as annoyed as Kyrie to be away from Nero, sensing, like her, that he needed his weapon.

In the distance, Kyrie saw Rebellion trembling, as if it had the very same problem. Differently from Red Queen, though, it didn’t seem like a figment of Kyrie’s imagination: even if the van was kicking and prancing around, she could clearly see Rebellion was vibrating, as if it was ready to take flight. She remembered Nero telling her Dante could summon his sword like that: a simple call and she would fly over to his hands, no matter where he was.

“We need to go back.” The resolution settled in Kyrie’s heart as she stood up, holding the charm on the necklace she loved so much.

“What?! Have you lost your mind too?!” Nico didn’t know if she looked back to Kyrie or if she kept an eye on the road. “Those creepy dudes will kebab us in half a second if we step in that ol’ town!”

“They need their weapons, Nico! Right now, we’re the only ones that can help them get back to their owners!” Kyrie walked back to the virtuosa – again holding on for dear life on the driver’s seat. “If we don’t do that, their chance of getting away is very low! They’re depending on us to do the right thing, Nico!” She took a deep breath, closing her eyes. “Nero needs me. He saved me so many times, I will not fail him now.”

Nico remained silent for a while, frowning while chewing on the tip of her cigarette – the trotting of the van making her go up and down on the driver’s seat, almost hitting her head on the roof sometimes.

Kyrie was right. She knew the little angel was right. Nero hadn’t saved just Kyrie throughout the years, he had saved Nico too: she was just a crazy gunsmith with a very dubious driving style and a van to get the devil hunter around, but he was the one who would always get the job done. And when trouble came a little too close to them, Nero always made sure it would never even touch Nico. She could drive fearlessly through a horde of demons because she knew Nero would slay them all. That was something her heart always took for granted.

Now it was time to pay it back. It was time for her to risk her skin to get Nero out of trouble.

And damn well she would.

“Alright, little angel! We need a plan to save those three asses!” The resolution that resided in Kyrie now bled to Nico, making the angelic woman beam a satisfied and proud smile. “I’d say we go in guns blazin’, but we don’t have any guns – and those swords are useless for us.”

“I say we take a stealthy route. Calm down, breathe, think. Go back and give them their swords to let them do their job.” Kyrie’s voice now was a lot steadier, finally feeling a little surer of herself.

In the middle of nowhere, Nico slowed down until she stopped the van. The two women finally looked at each other.

“This gon’ be madness, you know that, right?” The virtuosa made sure Kyrie understood the seriousness of the situation they got themselves into.

“Yeah. But we’ve never really got scared of a little madness, have we?”

With an accomplice look, they giggled at each other, the tension finally seeming to dissipate a little. Leaving the driver’s seat, Nico stood up to check on the swords and think of a plan with Kyrie.

“What do ya think? They got kidnapped by that… What the hell was that, anyway?!”

“It sure looked a lot like the Order of the Sword…” Kyrie sighed, having memories of her younger days in Fortuna – making Nico remember as well. “I’d call it a cult. And I don’t know… Maybe they did get away, but…”

Nico waited for her to continue, but the words got lost in her tongue. Holding her amulet once more, Kyrie sighed before speaking.

“I don’t feel right. Something is wrong. Something’s wrong with Nero.”

“Eh… You and y/n with your weird ‘bein’-the-lover-of-a-demon’ bond thing…” Nico raised one eyebrow, pretending to have shivers. “It’s spooky sometimes. But well, if you’re sayin’ somethin’ ain’t right, I believe ya.”

Before the two women could keep going, though, Rebellion started vibrating more violently, stealing their attention. They frowned, looking at the sword as she threw a tantrum – seemingly looking like it would gain life at any moment.

“Uuuuuh… What’s goin’ on…?”

“I don’t know! You’re the gunsmith; you should know about demon swords better than me!” And even if Kyrie scolded Nico, she couldn’t take her eyes from Rebellion – after all, neither of the ladies knew what the sword was about to do.

“You’re the one datin’ a demon!”

“Nero’s weapons work a lot differently than Dante’s!”

With a loud clang, the eyes on the horned skull near the handle of Rebellion lit up in red, the sword perking up in resolve. Kyrie let out a loud screech as Nico jumped back, ready to have to tame the thing – after all, they had never seen that happening before.

In a blink, Rebellion went flying out of one of the van’s windows, crashing it like a million of stars, disappearing into the night.

Nico and Kyrie slowly looked at each other – their hearts beating furiously inside their chests.

“What the hell just happened…?”

“I think… I think that’s how Dante summons his sword…” Kyrie tried to explain in a whisper, still barely able to breathe.

“Doesn’t his sword come out of flames he summons from within’ himself, though…?” Nico couldn’t understand a single thing going on. She thought she knew how everything worked – but that Halloween was proving to be quite an adventure already.

“I don’t know…” Kyrie closed her eyes, keeping one hand over her heart. “Red Queen is very different…”

And, as if to agree with her, the sword herself revved up just a little, a few flames igniting for a couple of seconds. The two women stared at it, a little alarmed.

“And you? Not gonna say anythin’ for yourself too?” Nico pointed at your sword, not knowing what to expect.

With a little shake and a tingling sound, it seemed like your sword was telling off the gunsmith virtuosa.

Exchanging looks, the two women assessed the work they had in their hands.

Returning your sassy swords would be one hell of a ride.

*

It felt like the worst hangover of your life.

You slowly opened your eyes as pain reverberated through all the limbs on your body. Your head was pounding, every breath felt like your lungs were about to burst and your stomach apparently wouldn’t even be able to keep water down, if you had any.

As you came to your senses, you sat in the middle of the road, assessing your situation.

It was bad.

Really bad.

You were abandoned literally in the middle of nowhere. No one in sight: no town, no car, no soul, nothing. You could barely hold yourself together, let alone walk miles and miles in any direction to get anywhere. If you went to the old town to help Dante and Nero you would be more of a hinderance than anything else. If you went to the new town to get help and maybe meet Nico and Kyrie, you would probably arrive in the morning and, by then, the damage would be done already.

To say you were feeling useless was an understatement.

Looking around, though, you finally realized what was that slashing sound you heard before blacking out: Rebellion had carved the road, having come to your aid, as Dante said it would do if it felt you were in trouble – like it did to him. All you had to do was call; apparently, you did it unconsciously, seeking his help even when your mind was fading and all hope was gone.

You couldn’t help but smile – a bittersweet smile, but a smile nonetheless.

“Well, thank you for coming, old friend…” Your started talking, using all your strength to get yourself on your feet again. It took you more than you expected. “But I guess I’m not in my best shape at the moment… I’ve no idea what to do.”

With those words, you gripped the handle of the legendary sword and pulled it off the ground. At least you could still wield it, even if you were tired and defeated.

“We’re in the middle of a lost crossroads, in this godforsaken piece of desert, no way back and no way forward – also no prospects of helping Dante and Nero. Let’s face it, Rebellion. We need a miracle.” You sighed, looking at the horned skull that embellished Dante’s first sword. With that, you summoned all the strength left in your body to rest it on your shoulders as your lover would always do – taking a deep breath and beginning your way to the old town. “Standing here will serve us nothing, though. I guess we gotta make it happen.”

“One should know they can always reach out for a miracle in the crossroads, little one.”

You turned around, startled, ready to put Rebellion to use – but the only thing you found in that empty road was… Yourself.

Yourself, but not really. Something was off. That same gut feeling you had before, started to form at the base of your stomach now. It was like staring at yourself in the mirror, but the eyes… Something was wrong with the eyes – as if they were not quite yourself. Looking down, the figure who slowly approached wearing your form had two sets of shadows – while you, yourself, had only one.

“Some would call that kind of miracle a curse.” You rebuked carefully, still studying that creature’s intentions. You had heard Dante and Vergil talking of doppelgangers, but that didn’t act like one: it was too sentient, too intelligent to be one.

“Not all of them were in your shoes.” The figure smiled – it was your smile, but with a different edge that made you feel slightly uncomfortable.

Either way, the creature – whatever it was – had reason on their side. Your situation was pretty hopeless and you still had a long way to go… You had much to do. Dante and Nero needed you. Whatever those cult like people wanted, it wasn’t good. The man knew Dante’s previous alias, and that was never a good omen.

For the first time, it was your red devil who needed the saving – and you weren’t nearly in no way, shape or form to do so.

You needed whatever help anyone could offer. You needed a miracle – or a curse.

“Now if you’re thinking I’m like those foolish cultists messing with powers they think they can control, you’re wrong. Besides, I could have killed you at any point while you were unconscious at the crossroads, even without Sparda’s beloved Rebellion by your side. I’m simply a bystander that’s looking to be entertained and eager to make mischief on this moonless night.” The figure paused and chuckled. “Not even Hecate could interfere – like she could, anyways.”

“Who are you…?” You asked carefully, wary of the utter convenience and situation at hand.

“My name has been lost for the ages, but it’s not of great importance. You, however, are much more interesting; after all, you are Dante Sparda, The Legendary Demon Hunter’s beloved and prized human. Untouched by demonic blood and yet able to wield one of the most powerful blades known to demonic kind. Consider yourself lucky to have such a powerhouse of a weapon by your side. However, I’m guessing that you’re in need of something with much more firepower to get your nephew and lover back.”

“How do you–“

“Sparda may have had many enemies, but there were a few of us demons that stayed loyal to him even after he left The Underworld.” With those words, the creature mimicking your appearance bowed a bit before turning a soften gaze to the sword in your hands. “It’s lovely to see you again, Rebellion, and I’m quite fond of your new powers as well; it’s a nice touch.”

“Wait a minute, you knew Sparda and served under him?” With your question, the figure wearing your likeness nodded. “Then why can’t you stop the cult that took Dante and Nero?”

“Simple, I’m not the one they’re trying to summon. However, though, they do have something of mine that I would like back.”

“And what would that be…?” When dealing with demons, all wariness couldn’t be enough.

“Dear ol’ Beau Blackwell’s skull, of course!!” Your mirror cackled before coughing politely. “You see, one of my subordinates double crossed me and took the damn fool before he was ready, and soiled the deal I had with him. So, when I came to collect, the body was there, but the head was missing along with his soul. Come a few decades later, I find what I’m looking for, but it’s out of my reach. See, us demons expend huge amounts of resources to stay in your world. It’s not as nice as the Underworld, but it’s decent at times.”

“Huh. So, the town folks were right about him taking a deal with a devil.” You murmured to yourself, one hand resting on your waist.

“Such a smart human, after all. Besides, when you meet the devil on the crossroads, on a pitch black night, talking to your mimic with two shadows… Such a bad omen indeed for most – but to others, a risky chance to turn things around, for a high price. If you know how to make a proper deal without losing it all in the end.”

Your eyes turned to the mirror of yourself – standing calmly in front of you, a peaceful smile on your face. Their eyes were not your own, those were demonic eyes. You were dealing with a demon in the crossroads – and that could turn into something really bad. Even if they were fond of Sparda, the very nature of trickster demons such as the one copying you was uncertain.

They could very well give you what you needed to succeed – but they could ask for an unfathomable price. Usually, the highest prices were always asked when people found themselves in desperate situations such as yours.

But your body was hurting. Your feet were barely able to hold you standing. Your hands were trembling, and you were pretty sure you could only wield Rebellion because the sword herself was aiding you – as Dante would if he was there. You were not in a position to deny any aid, you knew that – and the demon right in front of you knew it as well.

“Knowing how to make a deal is of little help when someone needs a deal.” You answered carefully, still watching the calmly smiling creature. “It usually exploits the one with less power.”

“However, I think you’ll like what I’ve got to offer – and you’ve got nothing to lose, after all.” Hearing that answer, you instinctively grabbed Rebellion tighter, making your clone let out a distorted laughter in amusement. “Oh, relax. I don’t want your soul or to cross blades with you; I’d rather not have Dante put me into the ground like he did with Mundus. I simply want a favor done and, in exchange, you get a way out.”

“What’s the catch?”

“You’ve been trained so well.” The creature’s compliment came without malice. “I simply want that idiot’s skull back and, in turn, you save those two Spardas and prevent a demon from coming into this reality empowered with human sacrifices.”

“And how do I know you’ll make good on your word…?” You had one of your eyebrows raised, the deal sounding too good to be true.

Your mimic whistled loudly and a demonic horse with six legs came out of the right path’s fog. Four blazing red eyes looked over curiously, as the black strong body had strange demonic symbols on its shoulders. There was a saddle, reins and a chest plate adorned with a black feather inside a book with a claw clutching them both: the demon’s symbol, embellished on the surface. Its main was wispy like ashes from a fire, but the fire was coming from inside the creature itself.

What really caught your attention, was the sounds of snarls and soft growls, as multiple demonic coyote-dog-like creatures kept their distance – but stood at the edge of the fog, as if waiting orders.

“My horse, Slade, shall take you to the cultists so you can put the skull in his saddle bag here. Then sound the horn to signal the pack it’s time to feed. Afterwards, the pack of hounds will devour those cultists, since they are made of the souls of those they’ve slaughtered, itching for revenge. All you have to do is prove you are not terrified and step up to save the boys from a cruel fate.”

Oh, you knew what that was. You knew what you would have to become. Meeting a demon like that, in the middle of the desert, offering you their horse and pack of vengeful hell-hounds as power for you to control? You could almost hear the faint song, whistling ghostly in the distance…

Then cowboy change your ways today or with us you will ride, tryin’ to catch the devil’s herd… Across the endless skies.

With your skeptic look, your mimic smiled in amusement.

“Are you brave enough to take the reins or do you want to wander home without your lover and nephew?”

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. You were out of options. Going back meant leaving them behind and failing to save them – you couldn’t do that to Nero, to Dante. Many times Dante tapped into the worst of himself, the darkest places of his soul, to summon a power he despised to save you and have you back home – safe and sound into his arms. Many times he became a demon fiercer and more powerful than those he was fighting against, even if he loathed it.

You could do that for him too. At least once in your lifetime – maybe for the only and last time.

Sensing your resolve, Rebellion settled herself on your back as you walked forward to the demonic horse and held its reins – knowing it was time to aid you, as she had aided Dante a thousand times before. Your mirrored image watched you with a pleased smile.

“Now, take the left path; it’ll take you straight to the abandoned church where the cultists are. Get going, rider, you’ve got until dawn.” The doppelganger reminded you before plopping a black cowboy hat on your head, only for you to look up in surprise when the figure was gone.

You closed your eyes for a second as your whole body seemed to be engulfed in flames – the pain lasted for only a little while, though. When it washed off, it was as if you had never been hurt in the first place: you could breath properly again, your limbs weren’t hurting and all your strength – and more – was back into your body. Taking another step, though, you heard a ringing that wasn’t there before.

Looking down, you realized your clothes had changed: an all-black cowboy attire, covered your body, fitting it perfectly; with a heavy black coat down to your ankles keeping you warm in the chilly desert night. The cowboy boots had spurs that ringed like little silver bells every time you took a step – and, as you did it again, you realized you left a trail of fire behind, melting the asphalt with your footsteps.

That wasn’t the work of the demon who used your appearance to strike a deal with you – as you looked back into the four curious blazing eyes of the demonic horse standing in front of you, you realized it was its way of saying it also chose you to be its rider. At least for a while.

“Demons are always dramatic, aren’t they…” You shook your head, sighing as you made your way back to the horse who kindly awaited you – now looking like a rider who deserved their service.

As you looked around the crossroads, you could see the pack of hounds remained, waiting for your orders. The horse lowered itself down to let you onto its back and the pack of demons perked up in excitement. As you got into the saddle and adjusted yourself, the horse got up and the demonic pack howled to each other – as if signaling it was time to move out.

You adjusted your new hat as you nudged the horse forward onto the left path. The soft sounds of claws were in the distance as the pack followed you both.

“C’mon, Slade. It’s time to burn some asphalt.” Hitting the open road, you cracked the reins and the horse took off into a gate and then galloped once he had hit top speed – the trail of burning fire in your wake, as you did yourself with your footsteps.

In the distance behind you, the faint noise of a stampede was close by, but as you looked over your shoulder, you could only see the pack of demonic coyote creatures following at a distance.

Yipping, yowling and snarling hungrily as they followed in excitement. You looked forward, holding Slade’s rein tightly and feeling the weight of the Rebellion on your back. Those cultists, whoever they were, better be ready to fight – you were coming for them.

Yippie-yi-o, yippie-yi-yay… Ghost riders in the sky.

*

If Dante had to guess, he’d say the cultists would lock them up in the desecrated church of that derelict town, as that kind of people would usually do. To his shock, though, he woke up on an old rotten bed that, if he moved too much, would definitely fall apart with his weight. Even so, it was able to cradle the half-demon with ease, and it didn’t turn into dust as Dante sat on it’s edge, massaging his head on the spot those damn cultists hit him.

“Took some time to wake up, old man.” Nero mumbled from across the room - making Dante look at his own kin on the same situation he was. At least, Nero’s bed was made of brass.

“Eh, those cultists weren’t jokin’ ‘round. Hit my head pretty hard; gimme a break, will ya?” Dante shrugged, shaking his head and looking down to his feet.

Nero furrowed his brows. In all his life, he never thought he would see his uncle so... Defeated. After all, it was Dante they were talking about, not some random human on the street. He couldn’t shake off that feeling that it was all so... Easy.

“Ei, kid. I know what’cha thinkin’. And you’re damn right, I didn’t fight as much as I should’ve...” Dante sighed, raising his head back up again. In the dark, Nero could see his blue eyes, and they had a tinge of melancholy even with the slight smile Dante carried on his lips. “But out of everyone in the crew, I think you’re the one who can understand me the best. Imagine if it was your lil’ angel on that situation. What would you do...?”

Nero scoffed, not wanting to look into his uncle’s eyes. Bringing up Kyrie was a sure way into Nero’s heart - and bleeding heart even. He would die for her, he would kill the whole world for her, he would destroy gods and demon kings if he had to - but he would never let any harm come to Kyrie. And if the only way to save her was to put down his weapons and let himself be taken - by enemies or even death - Nero would do it without thinking and without doubt.

Yes. Out of all the crew, he could understand Dante’s action the best. It was too easy to take them, because those damn people knew quite well the very best way to enslave a Sparda was to tear their heart apart.

“Eh... Guess there wasn’t really a good way out of it, huh...?” Nero massaged his own head, shaking it right after. “But we gotta do somethin’ now. I mean, we can’t sit around and just... I don’t know, what the hell do those creeps want with us anyway...?”

Weirdly enough, Dante smiled until it turned into a good laugh. Nero furrowed his brows, staring at his uncle thinking he had finally lost his mind - the kid wouldn’t complain too much, he could perfectly understand where Dante was coming from.

“What a situation, huh? To think one year ago, it was y/n and Kyrie in the same shoes as us!” Dante shook his head, slapping his leg with a hearty laugh upon realizing it. “There’s somethin’ of poetic in this, kid!”

“Huh. There kinda is...” With that, Nero couldn’t stop himself from laughing as well. He wondered if that weird tugging in his heart was what Kyrie felt when she was locked up in that church with you last Halloween, getting ready to forcefully marry a demon. “I just hope they won’t dress us up in those ugly ass wedding clothes.”

“Oh, no, no, no. If they try, I’m tearing them apart!” Dante answered letting a louder laugh out of his chest. Nero couldn’t help but smile alongside him: it was good to see his heart coming back.

“Well, not to spoil your party, but I don’t think we can do much with those things lockin’ us up.” Nero raised both of his hands, showing off the silver shackles supressing their demonic powers. “Never felt anythin’ like this before, it’s nasty.”

“Yeah, those things are no joke...” Dante glanced down at his own wrists, slightly sighing. “But I’ve been through it before. Just gotta relearn how to fight like a human, that’s all.”

“You say that as if it was easy.”

“It kinda is, kid.” Dante shrugged, looking around the room, trying to come up with some plan to get them out of there. “It took quite a while to have my demonic powers awaken, so I remember how it feels like. I fought as a human for a long time, as long as you did. Well... As human as we get.” He winked at Nero, getting up from the bed and pacing around the room - the wooden floor creaking as his weight shifted the old boards; but never looking like it would give out. “You just gotta fight without the good ol’ demonic leverages.”

“What do ya mean it took you as long as I did?” Nero had his eyebrows furrowed, head pending to the side. They never really talked about Dante’s and Vergil’s lives before Nero met them - even if everything they had lived shaped so much of what happened to him. Either way, it wasn’t an easy subject, and both twins didn’t enjoy much reminiscing about the past: Nero had to piece up their story like a huge puzzle he was only given jigsaw pieces every now and then. “I thought you guys always knew about your heritage. I mean, it wasn’t like me who didn’t know why the hell I was different from everyone else and had a weird demonic arm.”

“You haven’t had it easy, huh, kid...?” Dante wheezed, shaking his head as he still looked around the room, trying to pick up anything on the cult or on a way out. “I knew my heritage, yes, but not what it could do. Your dad found it out as a kid, when those demons almost killed him the night our home burned to ashes. But me...? Well, it took some time. I survived, remember? I started workin’ and opened up the shop, and your dad tracked me down. Instead of bein’ happy I was alive, guess what he wanted...?”

“Power...” Nero mumbled, looking down at his newly acquired human arm - something that was still so weird to him. If he had to be honest to himself, he still kind of missed it as a demonic thing or the prosthetic one Nico built him. It was very strange having to adapt being so... Mundane.

“Bullseye.” Dante winked at him, with a humorless laugh at the end. “It was his first attempt at opening the Gates of Hell, that dumbass. Still, he kicked my ass and impaled me with Rebellion.” With those words, Nero’s eyes shot back at Dante, a little shocked with that story. “At the time, I thought he wanted to kill me, but now... I have my doubts. Your dad’s a weird guy, you know? He won’t tell you he likes you, but he will stab you with your own sword right in the chest to awake your dormant demonic power so you can accept the legacy your dad of the year left you when you were born.”

Again, Nero furrowed his brows. Perhaps it wasn’t that strange he had such a hard time around his feelings - and it was actually a very good thing he had Kyrie around to help him let them out in a healthy way. He got to learn something Dante and Vergil never had the chance to learn: the only thing both of them knew was harshness. Could Nero really ask anything more from them...?

“I was around the age you were back when we met in Fortuna, I think... So you see, I spent quite a while fighting as humanly as possible, with no leverage whatsoever.” Dante pointed at himself, finally stopping in the middle of the room. “I think Verge would have more of a problem in this situation than both of us.”

“Well... If that’s the case...” Nero spoke slowly, still processing everything Dante had told him. With time, he learned not to make much of a fuss when Dante or Vergil shared something about their history and their life with him: it made them feel like it was ok to be vulnerable if it wasn’t treated as a big thing, so Nero would keep it that way. “Then I should have more of an easy time than you.”

“That’s the spirit, kid!” Dante now rested his hands on his waist, sighing while looking around the room. “Now. We have no idea what those Eyes Wide Shut wannabes want downstairs. Windows and doors are sealed with demonic stuff to keep us in, so we’re gonna have to force our way out somehow.”

“Ok. I say we try one of the windows and sneak out. We can try to take ‘em out quietly and figure out what they want with us in the way.” Nero finally got to his feet winning a grin from Dante - who was more than ready to agree with his nephew.

“That will not be necessary, Sparda’s kin.” Both of them were interrupted by the leader of the cultists - still wearing the dark robe, but now permanently without his hood. His eyes were cold, smart and arrogant; the beard well trimmed and intricate. He carried himself with an attitude that certainly screamed he thought he was much better than any other human in town. “I didn’t bring you here to have you in the dark regarding our festivities - you are our guests of honor, after all.”

“Yeah, yeah, King Charles, cut the crap.” Nero rolled his eyes, tired of the way the man behaved. If there was something that pissed him off, that would be entitled people, completely full of themselves. “What the hell’s goin’ on here?”

“Even if you have a share of Sparda’s precious blood, boy, you are not the main guest. Know your place.” The man was clearly respecting Nero more than he respected you because of his heritage - or else, he wouldn’t even be addressing Dante’s kin.

“And you should know yours, fancy pants. Haven’t your mother ever taught you to respect people?” Dante had his hands on his hips again, but his eyes burnt like the fire he carried inside him. “Remember you have to keep us with these things so we won’t kick your ass. Give us enough of a reason, we’ll do it anyway. With or without demonic power.” He showed off the shackles to the man, noticing the human winced ever so slightly - trying to appear Dante’s words had no effect at all. “Who the hell are you? And you better answer this time ‘round.”

“You can call me by my family’s name, Blackwell. I’m Beau Blackwell’s great-grandson - and it is an honor to meet Sparda’s kin.” The man bowed his head in a sign of respect - something Dante didn’t do back and that made Nero smile. “I take it the townspeople of Silverstone did their job of telling you my family’s history.”

“If you’re talkin’ ‘bout the contract, hell yeah they did.” Dante’s eyes were now sharp, taking a guess where they were at the moment. If he could bet, he would say that was the old Blackwell mansion at the abandoned old town. “Guess stupidity runs in the family.”

“Damn, you beat me to it...!” Nero mumbled, making Dante smile proudly. At least they shared the same sense of humor - and taunts.

“I will admit my kin did play with powers much too great for his understanding and that was his downfall. He was too arrogant to realize he was biting much more than he could chew.” As Blackwell spoke, Dante and Nero just exchanged looks, having the same thing in their mind: the irony that he was criticizing the same thing they thought about him. “I, in the other hand, am more careful. I have studied the arcane and occult arts; learned how to wield them, tame them. There’s much more to ask of demonic creatures than petty, mundane things like money... There’s power. That’s what my kin failed to notice.”

“Oh, now there’s a word I never like bein’ thrown around...” Dante shook his head while mumbling to his nephew- and Nero couldn’t refrain to notice it was because of Vergil’s obsession with it for so long.

But, in all honestly, after everything he went through in Fortuna, humans seeking demonic power was never a good thing in Nero’s book either.

“Come. I will take you around the old Blackwell Mansion and you can be aware of what you will be taking part in.”

But, even with the man’s gesture and inviting demeanor, neither Dante or Nero moved a single step.

“Yeah, you see, we make a point on not taking part in things against our will.” Nero crossed his arms, making sure he wouldn’t leave without Dante. If his uncle stayed, he would stay.

Blackwell immediately frowned - not the calmest cult leader they had ever seen. Something about it reminded Nero of Sanctus.

“I am not asking you and you will be part of it - whether you make it a point or not.” The man raised his head high, as if to overcompensate for the fact he was smaller than the two devil hunters inside the room. “I have tried to be cordial and I will remain as such. I planned this night for a very long time, and neither of you will fumble it. The ritual will go on. The sacrifices will be made. The blood will be spilled. The demon king will rise. You can either take part peacefully or by force - but trust me, if you choose the second option, it will be painful.”

Dante wasn’t afraid of pain - and neither was Nero. Those words weren’t alarming per se: after all, it was to be expected of a cult that they would be made of sacrifices and blood offerings somehow, but they didn’t know if they were the only victims chosen for it.

What alarmed them the most, though, was the demon king part. There were a few of them, yes, but Dante couldn’t stop his blood from running cold as soon as he heard that.

After all, Mundus was a king. Could it be that godforsaken spiteful creature found a way to come back, so many years after Dante put it to rest? That it wasn’t for all eternity as he thought he had managed to do so...?

If Mundus decided to rear up its ugly head again, Dante wanted to be at the seat of honor to watch him rise just to tear him back into pieces and make him taste death once more.

As if noticing the sudden shift in his uncle’s heart, Nero looked back at Dante, waiting for an answer - but seeing the murderous glint in those ever easygoing eyes.

“Show us around, then. I guess gettin’ to know the stage of such a hideous play wouldn’t hurt.”

Blackwell had a peaceful smile back to his lips, finally allowing them to leave the room - but Nero could sense something was different; it seemed as if Dante could tear a demon king with his bare hands in the blink of an eye, but he was just waiting for it to rise.

*

“How can... Y/n... Ugh... Carry this thing ‘round... So easily...?!”

Nico mumbled while carrying your sword, heavily strapped on the gunsmith virtuosa’s back like a backpack. She always thought it should weight very little - after all, you always pulled the most incredible acrobatics while fighting - and you were human, just like her.

But the woman couldn’t deny: after walking around with that thing weighing on her shoulders, she started feeling a pain she wasn’t used to. Demonic metal was more efficient and lighter than any human and earthly metal, but still... It felt like she was carrying at least two guitars strapped on her back.

“Y/n is a trained hunter, they’re all used to it.” And even with that comment, Kyrie’s voice didn’t seem to struggle as much as Nico’s. She had dragged Red Queen around countless times to bring it to Nero, so dragging it once again through the desert wasn’t much news to her.

Neither to Red Queen. The sword always knew that when it was in Kyrie’s hands, she would soon find her proper wielder’s hands again to wreak havoc.

“Tell me ‘bout it... We’re all a bunch of weirdos, that’s what we... Ugh... Are!”

Kyrie had to giggle with Nico’s complaints. Yes, you were a bunch of weirdos, but that’s what made you all a family, wasn’t it? And family was always there for each other.

After they decided to take your weapons back to you, Nico drove all the way to the old town - and as soon as the ghostly, abandoned wreckage of a city appeared in their view, the gunsmith found a hidden place to park the van. Behind a few tall rocks, the Devil May Cry on wheels would be safe until that night was over - at least, they hoped it would.

Taking the swords in their hands, the two women started making their way to the old town - away from the main road, so they would have a better chance sneaking in unnoticed - and formulated the best plan they could at the moment.

“Ok. We’re almost there. So, we’re going in, and we’ll find a place to hide...” Kyrie started going over said plan, to make sure she and Nico were on the same page. Too much had already gone wrong that Halloween, they didn’t need even more problems.

“We’ll listen around to those assholes and figure out where they’re keepin’ the damsels in distress.” Nico’s answer was almost immediate, making Kyrie giggle. It was a first, imagining Nero as the damsel in distress and her saving him. “We’ll head over where they are...”

“Give them back their swords, and let them do what they do best.” Kyrie finished with a rather peaceful smile, given the situation. “Here. Let’s sneak in through here...!”

Going around the buildings, Nico and Kyrie entered what would be a dark alley between two wooden, rotten buildings in town. Going in from the back, they kept themselves low, walking side by side until they were the closest they could be of the main street. They could hear the cultists talking and patrolling the street, so they maintained utmost silence to get through them completely unnoticed.

The main street ended in a big plaza, with a large, decrepit mansion being the last building on it - and the only one with a semblance of light: not electrical, but a set of candles lit it from the inside, almost like a jack-o-lantern. The cultists roamed around the main street, but the larger number was definitely inside the mansion; after all, Kyrie and Nico could hear them chanting something they couldn’t understand.

“What do you think...?” Nico whispered to Kyrie, barely being able to hear her own self.

“They’re either in prison or... In there.” The woman answered in the same tone, pointing at the mansion at the end of the road. Nico sighed.

“I was hopin’ you wouldn’t say that... How are we gonna find ‘em in there...?!”

“I don’t know, but we have to think of a plan.”

The certainty in Kyrie’s voice was a little more reassuring - after all, they had a whole city swarming with cultists to cross and a mansion to infiltrate; all while carrying your weapons. They thought it wouldn’t be easy, but they didn’t expect that level of difficulty.

*

“Ok, I’m sayin’ it... We got a huge fuckin’ problem this time, Dante.”

Nero and Dante found themselves in a big party room, entirely lit with candles and decorated with sigils drawn with fresh blood - on the walls and on the floor. The biggest sigil, forming a closed circle, was in the middle of the room, glistening on the wooden floor. Cultists guarded the two entries and every window - big windows, that still had glasses on them.

The two devil hunters were seated on the middle of the circle, with their backs to each other, arms tied together so they wouldn’t escape.

“Beau Blackwell played with a demon he could not tame and he thought he could understand it.” Blackwell explained as they moved into the party room, revealing the ritual setting - everything one would expect on a ritual to summon a demon. “I, on the other hand, intend to do something much smarter. And that, involves... You.”

With a gesture from his hands, some of the cultists overpowered the devil hunters, guiding them to the center of the circle. Nero tried to fight, but immediately stopped as soon as he saw Dante followed the cultists calmly, almost sitting on his chair as if he was indeed a guest of honor. With his eyebrows furrowed, Nero did the same. After all, Dante must’ve known what he was doing, right?

Right...?

“Well, you’d usually need human blood to summon a demon, smart ass.” Dante’s comment was calm and cheerful, even, while he allowed the cultists to tie his hands behind his back and intertwine the ties with Nero’s.

“Oh, that will be arranged. There are many in my flock who are willing to serve such a higher purpose.” Blackwell smiled kindly, opening his arms to show around the room. “But a man with your knowledge must have noticed, this is not a common demon summoning ritual. It’s for a higher rank, a king - and one with that status would only come with a more special blood being spilled.”

“Eh. That’s why you need us, then...” Nero murmured, shaking his head. “And then what, smart ass? Gonna strike a deal of your own, too?”

“Oh, no. To summon him, I need you. To bind him, I need Dante.” Blackwell opened a wicked smile, making the room fall into complete silence as the two devil hunters didn’t say a word. “My ancestor made the mistake of gambling with a demon. I shall not make the same mistake - I will bind the demon and make it answer to my very own command. I will have all its power to myself, and there will be no one to stop my will. But to do so, I need powerful blood to do the binding - and there is no blood more powerful than Sparda’s blood.”

“Well, I’ll like to see you try that, Blackwell!” Dante started laughing, leaning back on his chair. “Stupidity really does run in the family, eh?”

“Apparently, it does.” Blackwell made a small gesture towards Dante and Nero, calling the cultists back to their places guarding the room. “The festivities will begin at 3 a.m. It’s just a small wait, but you will have the time to catch up... And say your goodbyes.”

Those were the last words Blackwell told them before leaving the room. Since then, the devil hunters had remained in silence, thinking about everything that had happened so far - and how to get out of that situation.

“Well, kid... After livin’ as much as I have, you’ll be able to say...”

“You’ve had worse, yeah, yeah, I know...” Nero laughed, shaking his head while staring at his beaten up boots. “But I mean. I’m gonna be sacrificed with a random crazy cultist to raise a demon king from Hell. You’re gonna be sacrificed to bind the demon king. Things aren’t lookin’ too good, man.”

“I just wanted to know which demon king they’re tryin’ to bring up this time.” Dante sighed, leaning back on the chair again. “But I guess there’ll be no old acquaintances today. That’s already a good thing, kid.”

“You... You were afraid that Mundus dude would be back...?” Nero’s question was almost as quiet as a whisper, barely audible for anyone who didn’t have a demonic hearing like theirs.

“Hmmm...” Dante’s answer took some time to come, even after he hummed in return. Nero rarely saw his uncle being that quiet and somber. “The world doesn’t need him rearin’ up that ugly head of his again.”

“Well... You killed him a long time ago, didn’t ya...?” This time, Dante only answered Nero with a shake of his head and a quiet hum. “I don’t think we’ve to worry ‘bout him, then, you’re pretty good at your job.”

“Huh. Thanks, kid...” Dante had a slight smile on his lips, but his words had an uncharacteristic bitterness to them. “But some demons have trouble stayin’ dead. Someone has to make sure that doesn’t happen to Mundus.”

Silence fell between them once again in the room. Nero kept looking at his boots, but his thoughts ran at a thousand miles per hour. He knew it was because of Mundus that his family was as broken as it was, that he never had a chance to have something normal. He knew it was because of that demon that Dante and Vergil had broken childhoods and carried a trauma that shaped their whole lives. But he never really understood the burden Dante decided to carry on his shoulders of ridding the world of such a horrifying demon - of making sure Mundus would never do to anyone else what he did to his family, to him.

It was a good path. A right path, some would say. But probably the most difficult one to follow: it was certainly the loneliest.

“Well, you got me with ya this time. That should account for somethin’, right?” Nero nudged Dante with his shoulder, hearing a slight laugh from his uncle.

“That does, kid. It certainly does.” With that answer, Dante sighed again, stretching his back and legs for a while. “Now, remember what I told ya? Fightin’ like a human?”

“Yeah...?”

“Good. ‘Cause that’s what we’ll be doin’ when that clock hits 3 a.m. You better get those legs stretched and ready to do some damage.”

“Fuckin’ finally. I’m tired of waitin’ here!”

They didn’t really know what they would do to get themselves out of that one - but, at least, they were together. They would figure something out.

*

“Ok... So. We have to find a way in.” Kyrie murmured over to Nico, as both women found themselves ducking behind a set of dead bushes near the mansion.

They managed to get there undetected, counting at least fifteen cultists on their way to the house. Keeping themselves on the outskirts of the plaza, they circled around in the shadows and got into the main garden through a broken piece of the iron gate.

To their relief, there weren’t many cultists around the mansion: they were either inside or outside on the town.

“Yeah. Way in. The main door isn’t an option... Right?” Nico tried a little smile to Kyrie, who just shook her head in negative. “Yeah, I thought so.”

“Hmmm... I don’t see another entrance... Maybe there’s one in the back?” The woman tried looking above the bushes without being spotted but, as if on cue, a loud, ominous bell sounded from inside the house.

The two women immediately ducked even further, almost hugging each other from being startled. The bell sounded three times and they saw one of the cultists - now without wearing the cape’s hood - appearing on the balcony of the second floor.

“My children, it is time! Join us in sacrifice and festivity!” The man had his arms opened and his voice could be heard through the whole dead town.

Kyrie and Nico scooted even further in the shadows as the cultists on the main street left their duties to get inside the mansion. They watched the wicked procession of chanting voices through the dark street, entering one by one inside the house that seemed soon would fall apart.

“That’ll give me nightmares for years!” Nico whispered to Kyrie, shaking from a quick shiver that went down from the top of her skull to the base of her spine. “Damn cults.”

“Damn cults...” Kyrie whispered back, thinking how the Order of the Sword in Fortuna wasn’t that different.

As the heavy wooden doors of the mansion closed, the two women found themselves completely alone in that godforsaken ghost town in the middle of nowhere - being the only ones with some hope to save the devil hunters that night.

“What are we gonna do?” Nico had a tinge of desperation on her voice. “That creep said sacrifices, I heard it fine! You think they’re sacrificin’ the crew?”

“Well, if that is the plan, we can’t let that happen!” Kyrie had resolve in her hazelnut eyes, looking at the house over the dead bushes. “We have to try entering through the back. If there isn’t an entry through the back...”

“We are doomed!”

“No. We try something else. C’mon, Nico, they’re counting on us!”

“I-I-I know, but I don’t count on myself...!”

Before they could continue their discussion, they heard a thunderous noise in the distance - as if coming from the skies. Furrowing their brows, they searched everywhere, but there was nothing; not even a semblance of storm over their heads.

“You’re hearin’ that, right...? Right...?”

“Yeah...”

As soon as Kyrie answered, a vicious galloping came in with the wind. As they stared back on the main street, the figure of a fiery horse running with all might with a black rider on its saddle appeared like lightning, approaching at an inhuman speed.

“You’re... Seein’ that...”

“Yes. Yes.” Kyrie shook her head enthusiastically - probably with the same enthusiasm she wanted to ran away.

Before the two women could think of running, though, the horse reached the plaza - and they could finally see the face of the rider as the horse ran around the perimeter of the place; the rider cracking a fiery whip to draw the attention of the cult.

“Is that... Y/n?! But... We... They... Those assholes didn’t take everyone?!” Nico stumbled over her words, as both of them watched you in awe... And horror.

“Apparently not!” Kyrie’s heart danced inside her chest as the man who previously summoned everyone to the ‘festivities’ ran to the porch once again, having a few members of the cult join him - the others took glimpses of the plaza from inside the mansion, through the half broken windows.

You circled the plaza one last time, heading right to the iron gate - now open, which you saw almost as an invitation. You could feel the unease in the air, as Slade slowed its steps and entered the garden, coming to a stop without even your command.

Looking up, you finally saw Blackwell’s face for the second time that night. Now, he had his eyebrows up in shock, recognizing your face under the cowboy hat. In such a short time frame, you could say you had one hell of a makeover.

“Either you let me in willingly, or I’ll force myself in.” You stated loud and clear, having your hand ready on the hunting horn on the saddle horn. “You’ve got one chance to cooperate.”

“Bold words coming from just a pitiful human.” Blackwell’s response was almost spat on your face, with a small laugh that made his cultists giggle alongside him. “It’ll take more than just a few... Party tricks... To stop the ritual.”

“Oh, I got much more than some party tricks, smart ass.” You laughed as an answer, taking the horn out of its place on the saddle. “You’re not the only one striking deals with the devil on these parts. I think you will all enjoy meeting the souls you sent to the afterlife.”

You blew the horn loudly, allowing a ghostly sound to take over the air, as the demonic horse rose up on its back legs neighing loudly in a distorted tone with the demon pack howling in response - the mix of sounds making it seem like a cube of ice was running slowly down your spine.

When the horse landed, the pack took form from the darkness, making Kyrie and Nico scoot away trying not to get in those creature’s path. Blackwell’s eyes grew in terror, even if the man tried to remain arrogant and not show any kind of emotion - the pack raced forward hungrily with gnashing and snarling sounds as they opened their mouths with sharp fangs, ready to tear through the cultists flesh like butter.

“It’s the hard way for you all, then.” You pointed to the house, raising your voice once more. “Take what they owe from you!”

With that command and an intense howling, the pack destroyed the front door - and you could hear the symphony of roars and screams as some of the cultists tried to run away and others tried to fight.

“No! No! I will not be defeated by the likes of you!” Blackwell screamed from the porch, taking one of his followers and slicing their throat without a second thought, leaving the body on the ground as soon as he collected the blood. “Fight those creatures or sacrifice yourselves to their will! The ritual will go on and the main room is to be protected at all costs! That’s an order!”

The remaining cultists obeyed without questioning, willing to give their lives for that bizarre cult ran by Blackwell. You shook your head, watching as they entered in a rush, and still hearing the mayhem going on inside.

“Are you girls alright?” You finally broke the badass pose to look to your side, checking in on Kyrie and Nico. Both women were hugging each other, ready to scream and run, but now they just stared at you in awe.

“Damn, y/n, what the hell?! You almost killed me! My heart cannot take somethin’ like... Like.. A flamin’ demon horse?! How?!” Nico let go of Kyrie to wave her hands around in despair as they approached you - you, in the other hand, smiled back while caressing Slade’s head.

The horse was quite sweet for a demonic horse, if you had to say something.

“What happened? You were all fine when we left, I mean, you were all together...!” Kyrie tried to explain and you could see where she was coming from. “What’s with the deal you mentioned...?”

“Look, it’s quite a long story. But I had to borrow some powers - and help...” You pointed to the house as some growling and yelling was still happening, making Nico visibly shiver as you did so. “To save our damsels in distress for the day. Also have another kind of help.” And this time, you pointed to Rebellion strapped on your back.

“Oh, so that’s where she went!” And Nico could say she was relieved to see the sword with you. They would have a lot of explaining to do if they had lost Dante’s sword.

“We’re here to bring your weapons too...!” Kyrie took Red Queen out of hiding, since they had put the swords down for a moment while discussing their next steps. “We were just trying to figure out a way to...”

Before she could finish speaking, though, a loud noise came from inside the house and the windows started glowing with a flash of red for a while before going back to normal. The floor rumbled for a couple of seconds underneath your feet right after, and then everything went silent - even inside the house.

“The pack did their job, it’s time for me to do mine.” You took the reins back into your hands. “C’mon, Slade! Time to teach those assholes a lesson!”

“Let’s go...!”

“Let’s go where? Are you insane? We’re pretty ok here, outside, waitin’, while the hunters do their thing in there...!”

“Nico.” Kyrie rested both of her hands on the woman’s shoulders as you led Slade up the front porch stairs of the mansion and inside the house - taking everything in your path and leaving fiery steps behind. “They need their weapons. They need us. No time to back up now. Let’s go!”

“Everyone here’s insane...!” Nico rolled her eyes and, if it wasn’t such a dangerous moment, she would be lighting up another cigarette.

You rode through the dead cultists, ripped apart by the pack you summoned earlier - now gone, probably to finally have their rest. Following the chanting noise, you found a set of heavy wooden doors, locked from the other side and being well guarded. With your fiery whip, you took care of the guards in a blink; and with Slade’s hooves, the door was soon broken into pieces on the ground, with you riding inside the room and interrupting the ritual.

“Sorry the late, love. I got a little... Caught up.” You winked as soon as you found Dante’s sky-blue eyes fixated on you in pure amazement. He watched as you rode inside the room, whipping away any cultists who tried to get in your way. Your objective was to save Dante and Nero, and you had nothing but their safety in your mind.

“That flamin’ horse is pretty cool! Where did you get somethin’ like that?” And to say Nero was excited about it was an understatement: he looked like a child who just saw the coolest thing on earth and wanted that to himself as well - enough even to ignore the gash he had on his hand, dripping blood on the wooden floor.

Not a huge blood offering as they were expecting - but Blackwell didn’t want to waste too much of Nero’s precious blood on the summoning. After all, if Dante wasn’t enough for the binding ritual, he would use Nero as well.

“From a demon, no doubt.” Dante answered instead as you finally left the saddle and your feet hit the floor of the house - leaving fiery steps as you approached him. “Hope you didn’t do anythin’ too rash, babe.”

As you reached Dante, you could see the worry in his sky-blue eyes. He knew that kind of power, for a human like you, came only with a deal - and, usually, it never ended well for the human. Either way, what choice did you have that night, really? Not many, and you would do whatever you had to in order to save your lover. Dante knew that - and he would never want to be the reason of your downfall.

That’s why the first thing you did was to place your lips on his, on a slightly longer kiss. You hoped that would reassure him; that it would make Dante know you would make that decision over and over again if it meant he and Nero would be alright that night. You could think about your deal and your soul later, as long as they were safe.

Also, being Dante, he could easily take the increase in your body temperature after the deal.

“I did what I had to.” You answered as soon as you left his lips, smiling fondly even if you could see how melancholic his eyes looked. “Now, let’s get you both out of here. We have a cult to dismantle.”

“We’re experts on that!” Nero was already bubbling inside to fight, almost as if something told him Red Queen was nearby.

“It doesn’t matter what you all do!” Blackwell reappeared from a door on the second floor, holding a black box with silver carvings. “The gates have already been opened! The king will rise and with a few more spells, the binding will be done! Give up!”

“Why do all power hungry asshats always speak like that, huh...?” You shook your head, going back to freeing Dante and Nero: turns out, untying them was quite easy; the problem was the power suppressing shackles around their wrists.

“Eh, you know, babe... If they can’t sound like cheesy villains, then what’s the fun in that?” Dante shrugged, making you giggle in response. As you untied his feet, he finally got up, being followed by Nero as soon as you freed him.

Before any of you could do anything else, the floor rumbled once more and the red sigils in blood started glowing with a light you only saw in very well succeeded rituals. Indeed, the gate was opening, and the demon they summoned was about to come to earth - unless you did something about it.

“Hey, cowboy, can you take care of the cultists and their smart ass leader?”

“Sure thing, ghost rider. But dont’cha think you’re gonna have all the fun by yourself.” With that answer, Dante kissed you quickly before heading over to Blackwell. “C’mon kid. We got work to do!”

“About time!” Nero ran after Dante, even if he himself wasn’t sure what you would do with the ever trembling floor.

“Slade!” As soon as you called, the horse galloped over to you, having you back on its saddle in no time. You circled around the room, watching as the seal between dimensions opened and a metallic looking demon started poking its ugly head through it. Holding Rebellion’s grip tightly, you took it from the holster on your back, as you watched the creature who stepped into your dimension - black eyes oh so interested to finally be out of the demon world. “It’s time to work, Rebellion.”

“Ah... The Human world, at last...” The demon was almost as tall as the mansion itself, wearing a black metallic armor that you couldn’t tell if it was its clothing or its actual skin. It had a humanoid head, but the lips didn’t move as it spoke - almost as if it was wearing a mask made of marble; crowned with a thousand dark metallic spikes. Its black eyes, though, seemed to harbor infinite void; while its clawed hands dripped a viscous black liquid, pooling around its feet. The demon king looked around with no expression on its masked face, but soon those empty eyes found you: a rider on a fiery horse, carrying one of the legendary swords made with the fire of Hell itself. A human rider, wielding such power. “And already a hunter as a warm welcome.”

“To send you back home where you belong to.” You answered, raising your head with pride. “Can’t let you stay here for too long, your putrid highness.”

“A hunter with such power in their hands. This shall be interesting...” The demon king hummed, summoning two blades on each of his hands; forming from the dark liquid that dripped down from his claws. “Very well, hunter. I shall indulge you.”

You had no more words to say, for now it was time to fight. Charging in, you led Slade right in the direction of the demon king, circling around the creature to try to land a hit with Rebellion. In spite of his size, though, the demon was fast and you had to dodge a heavy attack from one of his swords - that buried on the floor, cracking the rotten wooden panels. You seized this opportunity to land a hit on his arm with the Rebellion - soon realizing the skin of the creature was, indeed, made of metal.

It would need a lot more strategy and power to land a blow that had an actual impact on that kind of demon - in all your life as a devil hunter, you had never seen nor fought against anything like it.

Meanwhile, Blackwell pointed his followers to take on Dante and Nero - who were running up stairs to deal with the man who was already setting up the second part of the ritual in a makeshift altar across the room.

The hunters just exchanged looks and a knowing smile before sucker punching their way up - even throwing some of the cultists down the stairs. If they had to fight like humans, they would... And they were actually very good at it.

“What the...!” Kyrie and Nico said in unison as soon as both reached the doors you brought down when you barged in the room - finding that mess of a scene: Dante and Nero running up stairs and you fighting a demonic king with Rebellion in hand. In a matter of fact, their shock came mostly from seeing a demon king for the first time in their lives. Other than Vergil, actually.

“Don’t t-t-tell me you wanna... Go i-i-in there.” Nico’s stuttering suddenly got worse, wincing as soon as one of the kings swords tried to bring you down - and you expertly held it back with Rebellion, keeping your balance on your horse.

It was actually quite impressive to watch.

“I... Don’t. We can... Wait.” Kyrie’s answer was almost a whisper, with both of them agreeing to hide behind something until the opportune moment to give the swords back to their respective owners.

“Blackwell! Time to end this party!” Dante announced as soon as he got to the top of the stairs, making the man jump in place.

There was a skull in the middle of the altar, sided by candles and behind a brass bowl - where he would probably collect Dante’s blood. Blackwell had already cut his hand and offered his own blood, chanting incantations written in an old book he had opened on the corner of the altar.

“It’s too late now, Dante. You should accept...”

“Man, you talk too much...!” Nero finally lost his patience. Before Dante could say anything, his nephew ran with all his might, drop kicking Blackwell on the floor. Dante couldn’t refrain from shaking his head.

“You never change, do ya, kid...?” He had his hands on his hips, watching as Nero kept Blackwell immobile.

The cracking sound of your whip drew everyone’s attention to the fight at hand. Looking down, Dante found you with the fiery whip on your hand, keeping the demon king at bay. Your foe immediately raised one of its huge swords to take you down in a swift sweep, but with a flick of your wrist, you wrapped the blade with the whip, cracking it with the sound of a thousand raging bonfires. Dante couldn’t help but raise his brows and watch you with amazement and admiration.

Indeed, you were a human to tame his demonic heart. There you were, mounting a demon horse, Rebellion on one hand and a whip made of the fires of Hell itself on the other, holding down the sword of nothing but a demon king in place. You didn’t back down nor felt fear - instead, you wrapped the whip even tighter around your own arm, making it shorter and forcing the demon king’s sword down. You knew it wouldn’t burn you, for you were the one wielding it. Keeping your gaze on those eyes made of oblivion, you commanded the whip to burn hotter and hotter... Until the very blade in the demonic king’s hand started to melt, pouring on the floor like molten mercury.

“Fuckin’ hell, y/n...!” Dante let out as soon as surprise hit his heart, watching it all while keeping his hands rested on the balustrade of the second floor. His mind couldn’t even think of that clown Blackwell behind him when he had you being such an incredible hunter downstairs, taming a demon king like he never saw any other devil hunter doing.

He was the only one he knew who ever conquered a king in his book - and there you were, proving the world why you were the owner of his heart.

“Rare are the fights worth fighting...” The demonic king’s voice echoed through the house, as the creature gained back his posture upon realizing one of his weapons were gone. “I can see why Rebellion stands with you. What is your name, hunter?”

“Y/n. Rebellion stands with me because I gained her owner’s trust.” Your answer came with your head held high, while you untangled your whip from your arm. As expected, there was no harm done to you nor your clothing.

“I reckon you gained more than his trust. It will be an honor bringing you down, y/n.”

“I wouldn’t be that concerned with y/n if I were you, ugly face.” Dante finally entered the conversation. He did like the fact that you owned the respect of a demon king, but he did not like it that the creature was now even more interested in killing you. His phrase, though, made both of you turn your attention to him on the second floor. “I mean, I know, my sheriff is givin’ ya a run for your money and, sooner rather than later, you’ll be back down in Hell in no time.” He had a smart smile on his lips, sprinkled with pride, which made you smile in return. It was good to see how much faith Dante had in you. “But we’re all forgettin’ the big elephant in the room: the smart ass who summoned you and has all the intentions on binding you to serve ‘im.”

“Huh. Son of Sparda. I did feel your stench when I arrived - I just concluded it was tied to the sword.” The demonic king raised his head up to Dante, now pointing his sword towards him. “But your words ring truth. You were not the ones who summoned me - and now you tell me a mortal thought itself to be powerful enough to try to bind me into servitude...?”

Oh, you could all feel the anger running on the king’s bloodstream - if he even had one.

“Oh, yes. Not even a honorable human like y/n, huh?” Dante winked back at you, making you giggle. You weren’t really scared of the demon king behind you - your lover had done one hell of a good job of drawing his attention from you and the fight at hand. “More of a...”

“Coward little shit hidden upstairs so you wouldn’t find ‘im!” Nero dragged Blackwell by the collar of his robe as the man stumbled to stand by Dante’s side - clearly trying to run. “And tryna complete the bindin’ ritual, will you look at that!”

“A cowardly move indeed, petty creature...” The demonic king’s voice echoed through the floor, trembling the boards underneath you all. “Weaklings like you should learn your place and which souls are bound to eternal servitude.”

With that phrase, the portal between dimensions opened once more, making you guide Slade away from it so you wouldn’t fall into the demonic world. The king pointed at Blackwell, making some of the black, viscous liquid dripping from its claws go up the man’s arms and neck, slowly reaching his eyes. Blackwell screamed in horror and pain as the liquid filled his eye sockets, turning into infinite voids completely out of a soul as soon as it was done. Nero let go of the man’s arm, watching him go down the stairs like a mindless puppet, walking obediently to the edge of the opened gate, staring into the demonic world as if he had no choice.

“You shall regret your hubris, petty creature.” With those words from the king, Blackwell willingly threw himself into the abyss, forever lost in servitude to the demonic king he thought he would be able to control.

It was the perfect moment. You couldn’t allow a demon king to stay, and he knew that very well. With a quick movement and a loud crack, your whip tangled itself around the demon king’s metallic arm. The expressionless face turned to you, staring into your eyes with that gaze devoided of soul. You held the look, once again wrapping the whip around your arm tightly, cracking Slade’s reins so the horse would walk backwards - helping you pull the demonic king with you.

You had every intention of pulling him down the opened gate, locking it right after he was gone.

It was a matter of strength and will. You kept pulling, and the demonic king kept anchoring his feet on the floor of the house. Dante and Nero watched it all from the second floor with their mouths slightly opened and hearts pounding viciously in their chests. Nico and Kyrie had their eyebrows furrowed, barely believing what their eyes were seeing. The hardwood floor started to crack underneath the king’s feet, but your eyes wouldn’t leave that soulless gaze. You wrapped the whip once again around your arm, making it even shorter, yanking the creature towards you - making him try to anchor himself down even harder.

Using the same command in your heart before, the fires on the whip got hotter and hotter, burning even brighter and making everyone in the room start to sweat - except for you and the king. The creature stumbled a little when you noticed the whip started to melt into its metallic arm - slowly, but surely, melting it... Destroying it.

If the demonic king wasn’t going back to his rightful place, he was going down. The way you stared into his black eyes made him know that.

“Y/n. I shall remember your name.” The demonic king’s voice reverberated through the room again, as he slowly glided towards the opened gate.

“You better. Next time you try to come up, you should know I’ll be here to take you back down.” Your answer was certain, causing a low laugh to echo through the room in return.

“It will be an honor. Hunter.”

Those were the last words you would hear from the demonic king. He finally let go and you yanked the fiery whip, dragging the creature down the same abyss Blackwell had thrown himself into. With the whip free, you had it back on its place on the saddle in a flourish, watching the gate slowly close up - too slowly, in a matter of fact: some demons had noticed it was open and saw an opportunity to come out and cause mayhem.

“Ei, y/n!” You heard Dante calling, as he ran downstairs alongside Nero. “Use the Rebellion! It’ll speed things up!”

Doing as he said, you killed a few demons who tried to come out - and, as you stroke one of them down where it belonged, you noticed the portal closed faster and faster, until there was only the tip of the Rebellion left buried on the very ordinary hardwood floor.

No demons. No gates. No kings. The mansion fell in silence - and the town had its ghostly quietness back to it. With the last stand from Rebellion, it was over.

Dante finally met you in the middle of the party room, watching you with a proud smile on his lips. He had defeated Mundus once, yes, but you had just put a demonic king back where it belonged without any help from him. That was quite a feat you could brag about as much as you wanted now - even if he knew you wouldn’t do it. He knew you paid the price for the power to do so, but he would be lying if he said it wasn’t worth it.

“Guess you saved my ass this time, ghost rider.”

“I believe ‘thanks’ are in order, cowboy.” You answered casually, approaching with Slade walking lazily towards your red devil.

“Oh, you deserve more than thanks tonight, sweetheart.” And the looks in Dante’s eyes made you immediately giggle - while Nero rolled his eyes.

“Ah, stop that you too. There are children in the room...” He shook his head while both you and your lover stared at him with eyebrows raised, ready to question him. Nero just casually looked back at you. “It’s me. I’m children.”

“Ya know... I’m quittin’ this job.”

You three finally looked back at the door only to find Nico and Kyrie walking towards you - safe to say, Nero immediately smiled and ran to meet his love halfway.

“The materials are good, but damn...!” Nico rolled her eyes, completely ignoring Nero holding Kyrie tightly in his arms, kissing the top of her head while she giggled. “You’re all crazy...! Crazy!”

“What can I say? It runs in the family.” Dante shrugged, making Nero laugh from their now inside joke. He turned to you as soon as your feet hit the floor by his side. “You too, babe. You’re family as well.”

“Good to know you think I’m crazy too.” With your answer, he laughed a little bit out loud before having his lips covered by yours - now burning like fire.

“Phew - gonna take a while to get used to that, babe. Is it permanent...?” You could see the care in Dante’s eyes as he pushed some of your hair away from your face - your cowboy hat still immaculate on top of your head. It was clear he didn’t want any kind of thing that transformed you to something more than human to be permanent, but he would accept it anyway: after all, it was you; and everything you did that day was to save him. Dante never really had that.

“Not really. I just have to keep my part of the bargain and it’s gone.” You played with his hair for a while, making Dante have a goofy smile on his lips - only for you. “Which is a shame, really. I liked having you around, Slade.”

The horse approached you, bumping your shoulder with its fiery nose - making you caress its demonic head. All in all, it was a good mount and you grew strangely fond to it.

“And what’s your part of the bargain, babe?”

“Beau Blackwell’s skull. I’ve to find it and give it back to the demon who first made the contract with him.”

“Ya know, the other Blackwell had a skull on the altar upstairs. It’s probably the one ya need, y/n.” Nero considered, still having Kyrie in his arms. There was no force on earth that would make him let her go before sunrise.

“Huh. The demon who made the deal with Beau made a deal with you too, then...?” Dante decided to follow you upstairs as you started making your way towards it.

“Yeah, pretty convenient, I know...” You sighed in return, now used to the fiery steps you left behind you. “But hey, I needed a way to get ourselves out of this one. Demon at the crossroads was my only way out.”

“Yeah, and what a way out. You make one hell of a sexy ghost rider, babe.” Dante teased and, as soon as you got to the top of the stairs, you turned around to let him see you in all your ghost rider glory.

“Right? I’m gonna miss it, I feel quite the badass!” You laughed in return as he whistled upon watching you.

“You’re always a badass, sheriff, you don’t need all that.” There was that unapologetic sincerity in his eyes as Dante spoke, making you know he actually meant it. In all your life hunting by his side, you never felt like you were missing something for being completely human.

“Thank you, cowboy.” You winked back at him, locating the skull inside the black box with silver sigils. Taking it in your hands, now you just had to keep it in the proper place on Slade’s saddle and let it take it back to the creature who gave you those powers for that night. “Though the fiery whip was pretty cool, huh?”

“That it was.” Dante laughed alongside you, stopping for a while before going back downstairs. “Thanks for the rescue, y/n.”

“No worries, Dante. I’ll always be here for you.” You smiled back at him, using your free hand to gently caress his face. “For better or for worse.”

“Usually for worse.” He completed with a slightly bitter laugh, making you shake your head.

“That depends on your point of view, love. To me, it’s always better.”

You left another quick fiery kiss on his lips before heading back downstairs - and, as you concluded your business with Slade and Nico kept arguing with Nero, who kept glued like a koala on Kyrie, Dante couldn’t stop himself from smiling upon thinking about your words.

You were always the better on his life.

*

“To whom it may concern,

Business in Silverstone is back on its tracks. Folks are regaining confidence and tourists are back in town. Things have been flourishing like never before: with the rumors of the latest ‘demonic rituals’, occultists and supernatural enthusiasts are flocking around to visit the old town. Some young folk in the city have even made a ‘Supernatural Silverstone Horror Tour’, or some stupid young people thing like that.

It’s been a hit, though. Not only the young ones, but some old people are coming to take the tour. The old town has never seen so much interest before - and the old Blackwell mansion is now a haunted spot, or something. Haunted house? Dunno. These people like making things up. Not complaining! The hotel is packed every weekend, and there’s plenty of money going around to help us rebuild from the chaos those pesky demons set around on Halloween.

Things are going steady and good around Silverstone - and we all have you people at the Devil May Cry to be thankful to. Whenever you want to visit, accommodation, food and whatever else you need is on the town. You all will always be welcome here.

Oh, the young ones said if you ever want to take the horror tour or whatever, they’ll be more than happy to have you around. It would be an honor, they said. Maybe you could come and show those kids what a proper scare is like, huh?

Well, that’s it for now. I thought you would like to know how things are going - and that you have made friends here in Silverstone. Once again, in the name of the whole town, thank you.

Buck Carson.

Ps: Frances and I have been seeing each other for a while and she agreed to moving in with me in the Hotel. Thank you for your help, y/n.”

“They’re moving in together! Mission accomplished!” You had Buck’s letter in your hand, having just read it out loud, and now you were in the middle of a very weird - and happy - celebration dance in the middle of the Devil May Cry; Dante watched you with his arms crossed, legs on the table and a huge smile on his lips, as always.

“You’ve been playin’ quite the long game to complete that mission, babe!” He laughed alongside you, watching your bare feet happily dancing over the shop’s floor - no fiery footsteps to follow you anymore; your deal was done. “Who would’ve known? You’re a Cupid too!”

“Oh, I’m a good shot, cowboy.” You pointed at him with finger guns, as if you were aiming for his heart. “I could make a wreck with a Cupid’s bow!”

“Oh, there would be no one left standin’! Ouch!” He took his hands over his heart, pretending he was shot as soon as you hit him with your finger guns. “You already took my heart with ya, sheriff!”

“And you took mine with you, cowboy.” You walked over to his desk, leaving the letter on a safe spot and sitting by the edge as you and the ladies always did whenever you were talking at the Devil May Cry. “Who knows, maybe if I make a deal again next year, I’ll get the powers of Cupid for a little while.”

“Ha! Now that I’d like to see!” Dante let out a good laugh, watching intently as you settled in front of him. “But we did get some nice things out of this one this year...”

“Yeah, the whole town is thankful to us, we could go there someday as a vacation.” You considered while Dante agreed, shaking his head. “That’s nice, for a change.”

“Yeah, a first one for me too...” He took his legs off the table, having his feet on the ground again, leaning closer to you. “And you got yourself your first devil weapon, pretty eyes.”

“Oh, my fire whip. I’m so glad.” You closed your eyes, having a huge smile spreading across your lips. Dante quickly glanced over his shoulder, seeing the whip was still sitting peacefully alongside his own devil weapons on a wall display, precisely where you both left them. “All demon kings better beware.”

“I can bet you’re already a legend in Hell, hot stuff. You’re earning your name.” He nodded towards you in a gesture of respect. You could barely think of yourself becoming a legend and making a name for yourself in Hell - but you had to admit it would be more than nice to be known for your abilities.

“But you know, I really like being known as the human who has earned your love.” You looked back at your red devil intently, leaning down on the desk towards him. “That is more important to me than any kind of power I could’ve earned.”

“And that is somethin’ you’ll always have, y/n.” With those words, Dante quickly pulled you into his lap, you both making his chair shift heavily on the floor and make quite the noise - while your laughs ringed with it. “’Cause you know, there’s a reason why Rebellion followed you.”

“Hmmm... I thought it was because I called you somehow before fainting.” You furrowed your brows, pending your head to the side while watching his kind eyes.

“You can call it too, babe, but that’s not what happened that night.” As Dante started talking, he took one of your hands in his, drawing random patterns in it as he spoke. “You see, my swords answer to my soul. And my soul, was worried about you that night. As soon as Rebellion sensed you were in danger...”

“It found me. But how...?”

“’Cause I’d find you anywhere, babe. No matter the place, no matter the circumstance.” His answer was certain; his sky-blue eyes going back to meet yours. “I’d find you anywhere.”

“I’ll always find you too, Dante...” With that, you took his silvery hair away from his eyes, in order to place a gentle, slow kiss on his lips. There was no job to do, no world to save, no gates to close - you could take your time and savor each other. “And save you from whatever demonic kings that decide to step in the way as well.”

“Oh, I’ll always count on that, sheriff!” Dante held you tight against him, placing another long kiss on your lips, making you giggle as he did so. “And I think you said some ‘thanks’ are in order...!”

“But you already... Dante!” Before you could finish speaking, he lifted you up on his arms, leaving his desk to take you upstairs.

“Job’s done and we’re in due for some lovin’. No refunds!” As he spoke, you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing at Dante’s antics.

After all, by now, you knew every Halloween would have a new adventure in store for you - and you also knew that after every storm, some celebration was to be had.

And celebrating with your red devil would never be enough; after all, loving with all the might of their human heart also ran in the family.

[dazed-and-confused23]

Can I please request a fic where Dusty the Deathclaw has a close call? Like maybe the Enclave or the Brotherhood of Steel, or raiders, got in a lucky shot on Dusty’s belly. And this DEVASTATES the reader enough to go full John Wick on the person who shot Dusty, even to the point that Cooper is like “Oh Damn”. Cause they hurt the WRONG wasteland baby!

Dear Hearts and Gentle People 17

I had a lot of fun with this one and it gave me an excuse to head down to the Capitol Wasteland. Ignore the janky timelines ❤️

*so sorry that this took a while to get out. Life does a good job of getting in the way sometimes @odditycircus-2002. I hope you enjoy! ❤️*

Masterlist

You aren't a fan of the Capitol Wasteland. The weather is shit, and she and Cooper had been shot at no less than eight times in the two weeks they'd arrived. This pocket of the wasteland felt even more dangerous to be in, especially with the rumor of a slaver group in the area. You and Cooper had agreed to avoid them as best you could, but that still left the rest of the factions the two of you needed to keep an eye out for.

The BOS left the three of you alone for the most part whenever they happened to cross your path, Dusty had even made a friend with the dark skinned lady named Cross. Raiders were raiders, but the problems really started when she and Cooper stumbled across another group. The Enclave.

Even after the destruction of Raven Rock, pockets of the old world faction still remained. The day was coming to an end when laser fire suddenly accosted the trio of wanderers. They dove for the cover of nearby rocks and grab for their own weapons. Dusty roars loud enough that your ears ring and charge ahead, furious milky eyes zeroed in on the men in suits of power armor.

"Fuck. That's the Enclave," Cooper snarls beside you, and you whip around to stare up at him in horror. Out of all the factions that they could have run into, it had to be one of the most dangerous ones. They were righteous zealots who dreamed of wiping the earth clean of all mutated creatures.

This was the one faction that would have the kind of firepower to actually hurt their deadly companion, and you felt fear grip your heart when rapid laser fire fell upon Dusty. The creature snarled and gnashed his teeth, dropping down to his front arms to sprint forward and close the distance between himself and the Elclave member who had the gatling laser.

"Dusty!" You scream and run forward, ducking behind rocks and burnt out cars in your bid to get to the deathclaw. Cooper rubs right behind you, taking pot shots at the line of figures that stand on top of the cliffs above them. One woman screams as a bullet catches her in the leg, and she goes tumbling off the cliff to hit the ground, dead.

The deathclaw rips through the men and woman who don't have powe armor, blood and gore flying in all directions, and painting his golden scales red. You arrive in time to see a man in power armor rip something off his back and onto his shoulder. The weapon glows a terrible blue, and you watch in slow motion as a bolt of electrified plasma flew through the air and struck Dusty in the chest.

The deathclaw goes down with a howl of anguish, rearing back to expose the blackened flesh of his soft underbelly. His scales crack and melt off, and Dusty falls to the side, the ground shaking when his weight meets the earth.

Cooper hears you scream, and the sound rattles him. It's full of pain and fury, rage, and disbelief. He watches you drop your weapon and dash forward, throwing yourself at the man who shot Dusty. You cling to the man, feet finding foothold as your fingers dig into the neck paneling of the suit and rip at the tubing and wires that connect to the helmet.

Steam erupts from the power armor, and the man jerks around, stumbling as half of his suit loses power. You find the latch to the helmet and rip it off, exposing the face of the terrified man who dared try and kill Dusty.

The ghoul shouts your name when the two of you tip over, the power armor useless now that its systems have been compromised. You appear seconds later, wielding your side arm. You shoot the man in the face until the chamber runs dry, shoulders heaving and teeth bared in an animalistic snarl.

With the fight over, with any other remaining Enclave having fled the scene, you turn on your heel and run to Dusty. You drop to your knees beside the whining creature and reach for his massive head, hands gently smoothing over his dangerous horns as you whisper reassurances to your baby.

"Is okay, sweetheart. I'm right here. Can you let momma see?" You coo, and Dusty lifts his head, moving just enough that you can see the awful wound left behind from the tesla cannon. Dusty whuffs and grunts, obvious sounds of pain falling from his maw.

"Cooper, bring me my bag," you order, and the ghoul does so without a word. You dig around until you can find your stash of chems and drag out the med-x and stim-packs you have. You have no idea if these would work, but you had to try.

"I need to see it, Dusty," you murmur, and Dusty shoves his head forward and into your lap, looking for comfort, and you easily give it to him. You hold his head close to your chest, and the beast breaths in your scents deeply, his milky eyes closing as he begins to calm down.

You look at Cooper, and the ghoul sighs, but he takes the medical supplies from you. He goes about moving around the deathclaw until he can see the burn. The med-x goes first, and then he injects four stim-packs around the wound.

The chems seem to work, for it isn't long before the deathclaw relaxes, his body sagging forward, and you grunt as you take his weight. His breathing evened out, and Cooper watched in muted fascination as the wound began to knit back together. He sighs and plops down in the dirt beside you.

You lean into him, and Cooper wraps his arm around your waist as best he can, kissing the side of your head. Silent tears stream down your face as relief sweeps through your body.

"He'll be alright, smoothskin. Dusty's tougher than he looks."

[yesihaveaobsession]

Crimson Sanctuary

WARNINGS!!!! DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, BLOOD, ABUSE MENTIONED~!!!! (READ AT YOUR OWN RISK)

Alastor x female reader

Summary: After getting in a huge fight with your drunk boyfriend, leaving you bruised and broke from head to toe you go to the one person you felt safe with, Alastor

WARNINGS!!!! DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, BLOOD, ABUSE MENTIONED~!!!! (READ AT YOUR OWN RISK)

A/N- I've been wanting to write something like this for a while now, I love the song "wait in the truck" by HARDY so this kind of inspired this piece, enjoy!

song inspiration kind of:

The cool, dimly lit hallway of the Hazbin Hotel felt like a sanctuary compared to where you'd just been. Your legs shook as you leaned heavily against the wall, each one of your steps sending a wave of pain through your body. Bruises covered your body, aching so much that it reminded you of the fight you’d had with your boyfriend. You couldn’t take it anymore—not after tonight. He had come home from the bar drunk, and the smallest thing had set him off. That was it. You’d had enough, but you didn’t know where else to go.

Your breath came in ragged bursts as you pushed yourself deeper into the hotel, hoping only the person you came to see would notice you. You didn’t even want him to see you like this, but that was the reality now. Desperation drove you forward, pushing you toward the one person you truly trusted—Alastor.

Then, you heard it—his distant humming, that eerie, lilting melody he often whistled when he thought no one was listening. It was a strange comfort. You managed a few more steps before your legs gave out under you, collapsing onto the floor in a heap. Pain flared through your bruised body as you hit the ground, a soft groan escaping your lips. You just laid there, panting and trembling, too weak to get up. You resigned yourself to this moment—there was nothing more you could do.

The door to Alastor’s room creaked open. He was on his way out, probably for one of his usual outings. In that moment, you heard his humming stop. There was a brief pause before he spoke.

“Dear?” His voice was surprisingly soft. You could’ve sworn the radio filter usually gracing his voice had vanished for a moment. That's when his polished pointe shoes came into view and he was kneeling at your side, his gloved claws reaching out to steady you. "Darling," he said in a low, quieter tone, “what has happened?” His clawed hand hesitantly reached out, gently brushing against you to assure you that he meant no harm.

You tried to answer—you wanted to—but your throat was too tight. He studied you closely, his eyes flicking over your injuries. And just like that, he knew.

“It’s him, isn’t it?” Alastor's voice was now laced with venom, though his touch remained impossibly gentle. You didn’t have to answer; he’d seen this before, far too many times. He had warned you, but this wasn’t about being right. It was about you, broken and desperate, and with nowhere else to turn.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “I-I’m sorry.”

“Nonsense, my dear,” he said, his voice still soft as he pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes. Your eyes, hooded and exhausted, met his. They were heavy with fatigue and pain, filled with the weight of everything you’d been through. His gaze burned with fury, but none of it was directed at you.

“You did the right thing coming here,” he continued. “You are always welcome here, and I assure you, you will not be going back to him.”

The threat behind his words lingered, palpable and real. He would make sure of that. The thought of what Alastor might do to your ex made your stomach churn, but you were too exhausted, too broken to care. Carefully, Alastor helped you to your feet, his hand never leaving your waist as he guided you toward his room.

“Come now, let’s get you cleaned up, shall we? You’ll be safe here.”

He led you into his room, the warmth and the flickering glow of the fireplace instantly wrapping you in a sense of comfort. Without another word, no hum, he guided you toward a large, cushioned armchair in front of the fire. Alastor's touch was gentle but firm as he helped you sit down slowly, his hands lingering for a moment longer to ensure you were steady.

As you sank into the armchair, the soft fabric cradling your aching body, Alastor's tall and long frame knelt before you, his sharp eyes studying your face and your face only. Your exhaustion, your pain, were evident, and you blinked tiredly at him, unable to summon a reply. With a sigh, he gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face. Then, with a small flick of his wrist, a warm glow began to radiate from his gloved hands. His magic was subtle at first; the energy sent a soothing warmth through your body, and you tensed for a moment. Slowly, you felt the pain and bruises ease. The ache in your muscles dulled as his power worked its way through you, healing the worst of your injuries. You watched in quiet awe as the bruises on your arms and legs faded, the tension in your body releasing as the pain subsided, though you watched with tired, exhausted eyes.

"There," he said. "That should help."

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Alastor smiled—a small, genuine smile. "You're safe now, my dear. And don't you worry about him, I'll handle it."

Alastor didn’t move from his place by your side, his presence a silent reassurance that you weren’t alone anymore.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt safe. Safe with him, in his arms, knowing that no harm would come to you as long as he was near. You knew in that moment your boyfriend was probably going to see the light, but that didn't matter you were just grateful for Alastor's presence.

[snapghoul]

I gotta know the conversation where Kate sliped up to Jake about Tyler getting hurt, because now I’m curious

Also how did Jake confront Tyler about it?

Yes. Yes, you may know.

There’s not enough wind in Oklahoma

Alt title: til it’s all blown away

Note: Had a fun time writing this and it has obliterated my writing block. I’m still trying to get the characters right in writing so if it’s still ooc I’m sorry.

Warnings: foul language, discussion of near death.

Song: Blown Away by Carrie Underwood

Jake stood next to the bright yellow barrels, his mind reeling. He didn't know much about storm chasing, but he knew his brother had a penchant for risky ventures. What he hadn't known was that Tyler's recent foray was more than just another daredevil stunt.

“So it does what?” Jake asked.

This wasn't Tyler's idea at all; it was Kate’s—her ambitious tornado tamer project. She’d been explaining it to him with contagious enthusiasm.

“So the silver iodine makes more rain to increase the cold pool and my polymer absorbs the moister! It essentially cuts the fuel and the storm collapses on its self,” Kate said, patting the top of the barrel with a wide, excited grin.

“It worked the first time we tested it—well, the first time with version 3.0. The initial tests ended tramaticly, and the second one didn’t work at all. But this one did—on an EF5, no less! In El Reno. I managed to get my polymer deployed before the storm wreaked total havoc. In the end, everyone was safe; the truck got wrecked, and Tyler took a steel beam to the leg, but he’s alright,” Kate said, her back turned as she removed one of the barrel covers, wanting to show off the mixture.

Jake's smile slowly faded, replaced by a hard, cold look. Anger and concern warred within him. He had been told Tyler wasn't even near El Reno during the storm. Now, the truth was hitting him like a ton of bricks.

Jake’s voice was tight with suppressed emotion as he stepped forward. “So Tyler didn’t just happen to be in the area—he was in the middle of it?”

Kate turned around, her brows furrowed in confusion. She remembered Tyler talking on the phone with someone, was it Jake she didn’t know. “He said he called you…“

Kate wasn’t naive; it was clear Tyler had kept his near-death experience from Jake. The depth of Jake’s anger was evident, and she understood why.

“He didn’t tell you.” It wasn’t a question.

“No, he didn’t,” Jake said through clenched teeth. His voice was strained with fury. “Actually he didn’t call me, ma did. I was under the impression he wasn’t even near El Reno!”

Kate frowned, the barrel cover slipping from her hand. “I’m sorry. I thought he told you. I’m sure he just didn’t want you to worry—”

She trailed off, uncertain of what else to say, unable to speak for Tyler. Jake’s expression was a mix of anger and hurt, and she understood it wasn’t directed at her.

“No, you have no reason to apologize,” Jake said, his voice steadier now. “In fact, thank you for telling me.”

Jake’s jaw was clenched, and his green eyes were sharp and cold. He glanced at the barrels, managing a strained smile as he addressed Kate with an uncharacteristic politeness.

“I’m looking forward to seeing your project in action. But if you’ll excuse me, I need to have a word with my dear brother.”

Kate watched Jake struggle to contain his anger as he marched across the dirt driveway of her mom’s house.

“Shit,” Kate muttered under her breath.

Tyler, oblivious to the approaching storm, was engaged in a conversation with Bradley near the barn. Jake seized Tyler by the shoulder, spinning him around with a violent jerk that startled both Tyler and Bradley.

“You’re a goddamn bastard, Ty!” Jake erupted. “You almost died and didn’t tell me? Or Ma? What the hell were you thinking?”

Tyler wasn't usually aggressive, at least from what Kate had observed, but she had never seen his demeanor turn so icy so quickly. He shoved Jake away to create some distance between them.

"It's no different from your job," Tyler said defensively, it was pot and kettle to him. "I was fine. I didn't see any need to tell anyone. It was like the rodeo."

"My job? What does that have to do with this? Tyler, you were nearly killed by an EF5!" Jake shouted, his voice thick with frustration.

"Nearly! Just 'nearly,' Jake! Those are the key words," Tyler retorted. He had faced death in the face so many times, the close call seemed almost insignificant now.

"Exactly—'nearly' is the problem! You never really see how close you come to death until one day it finally catches up with you!" Jake yelled back.

"You do the same! Do you have any idea how terrified Ma and Dad were when you signed up? You treat that death trap like it’s a joyride!" Tyler pressed.

Jake took a sharp breath as Tyler shifted the focus of the argument onto him, trying to make his role as a fighter pilot the issue.

"This isn't about me, Tyler. You lied not just to me but to the whole family! Do you even understand what would have happened if you had died?"

Jake couldn’t fathom a life without his brother; they were two halves of the same whole. Tyler knew him inside and out, and vice versa.

Tyler fell silent, his jaw clenching as his eyes flickered with a mix of guilt and anger. He hadn’t considered the full impact of what might have happened, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to.

Jake pressed on, his voice rising with urgency. “You don’t get it! Losing you would tear everything apart. I know you push boundaries and take risks, but damn it, Tyler, you have to be honest with us! We’re your family, and you can’t just leave us in the dark about something this serious!”

Jake was panting, his shoulders heaving as his words echoed across the vast Oklahoma landscape. Tyler remained silent for a moment before turning and walking away. Unlike Jake, he didn’t lash out with venomous words when things became overwhelming; he simply withdrew.

In a fit of frustration, Jake let out a primal scream, his anger spilling over. He threw his hands up in exasperation and stormed off in the opposite direction, needing to channel his rage and confusion into something, anything.

[mustainegf]

So, reader is Daves younger sister and she is dating James. And one day James sneaks into her room and Dave catches them fucking...this is after Dave got kicked out of Metallica so he and James hate each other

Goodie this is so good, I’m so sorry if it turned out short :(

𝐂���𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓 ¹⁹⁸³

James hovers over me as he fucks himself inside of me, grunting as he brushes back my messy hair.

"Mmm, yes," I whisper, enjoying the feel of him deep inside of me. He's so warm, so perfect, and it feels so good having him inside of me.

I close my eyes as he pumps into me hard and fast, the slap of his body against mine filling my ears, our moans echo off the walls, and the heat that radiates from his skin warms me from head to toe.

"Such a good girl, so pretty for me, yeah?" James huffs, grinning while his cock remained merciless.

"Mmhmm," I hum softly, feeling his words penetrate me even deeper than his cock. I love hearing that I'm beautiful, especially when it's coming from him.

It turns me on and makes my inner walls spasm around his cock. "Look at you, so wet for me,' groans.

His grip tightens on my hip as he thrusts into me faster, making my breasts bounce. My fingers curl into the sheets as I try to hold on for dear life, but it's pointless. He's just too strong for me.

But in an instant, the pleasure came to an abrupt end and terror shook me as the door violently swung open.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Dave screams, his face red with fury. My heart dropped as James scrambled off of me, his length slipping out.

"You're fucking my sister!?" Dave shouted in fury, wildly looking between the both of us as I clutched the blanket to my chest.

"You kick me out of your stupid fucking band and turn around and bang my little sister? What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Dave hissed as he stared at James who shimmied his boxers back on, his erection still incredibly obvious.

"Dave!" I cry out in panic as I cover myself, not wanting my brother to see me naked. This was supposed to be a time for James and I to connect without any distractions.

"Yeah, get you boxers back on dickhead..." Dave spits at James.

"Fuck off man, we're adults we can do what we want," he rebutted.

"Not when one of those people is my sister." Dave seethed as he took a step forward, and I thought for sure that James would be hit, but he didn't.

"Dave, get out!" I beg, my one hand pointing at the door, the other clutching the blanket to my breasts.

I had never felt so vulnerable before. And all because my brother walked in on James and I during a moment of intimacy.

That should have been our moment alone, and instead it became something horrible. "No," he snarls as he takes another step forward. "I need to know what the fuck is going on here."

"How many times have I told you to keep your hands off my sister!? " he roars as he stalks closer to the bed, his fists balled up as if he were ready to attack James. " I don't take fucking orders from you, " James growls.

"Take your tiny fuckin' dick elsewhere asshole!"

Dave raged at James. I knew this could go bad if I didn't get Dave to leave, he was a fighter.

"GET OUT!" I scream at him, and the raw fury in my eyes must've flipped a switch in him, because he let out an angry sigh.

He stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

We sat there in silence as our breathing slowly returned to normal. My stomach twisted with knots as Ilooked up at him, eyes starting to fill with tears.

James drooped as he slumped in bed next to me, smushing his face into his hands.

"I'm sorry, baby," he mumbled. "This wasn't how I wanted things happen," he said, trying to wipe away my tears. "It's fine, I'll talk to him." James tried to comfort. "And tell him what?" James huffed as he pulled me to his side. "That I'm not going anywhere."

[cambion-companion]

(I'm sorry for bothering, I read you were open to prompts... and I'm dying, since I found out about this, for Raph finding out a very, very stupid Tav who screwed up against Harleep. Like. A Tav who is so random she-or he- found her way into the HoH completely randomly, or thought it would be a good idea to surprise him there. Really anything, as you wish, if you can, if it inspire you, if it amusé you ^^ have a great day !)

Not a bother at all, my dear! I am indeed open for Raphael prompts, always ;)

Hickory dickory dock. The mouse ran up the clock. The clock struck one, The mouse ran down, Hickory dickory dock.

"Oh shit. Oh shit." A chill ran up Tav's spine as they sensed a sharp atmospheric shift inside the House of Hope. The air thickened and grew laden with the scent of sulfur and musk. Raphael stepped through a whirling portal of flame, his human face set grimly in an expression of anger.

"I am disappointed to see you here, pet."

"Raphael, it's not-"

"An errant mouse wreaking inane havoc in my house."

"Raphael I promise I didn't-"

"Silence." His voice was a dangerous purr, holding the promise of tortures unimagined. "You're being here is in direct defiance of clause three section b of our contract."

Tav had never felt his presence carry such fury before. They stammered for a moment, desperate to avoid conflict with the cambion. "Raphael..." Tav tried once more, tongue heavy around their words. "It was an accident! The diabolist in Baldur's Gate sent me here."

Raphael, still frowning sharply, allowed Tav to speak. Incendiary sparks of ash still floated around his form, but he seemed to calm somewhat as they tried explaining their mistake.

"The diabolist and I got into an altercation. She serves Mammon...pretty sure I remember that right." Tav continued. "I didn't know she was going to banish me here."

Raphael tilted his head, listening to the desperate squeaks of his favorite mortal. When Tav began rambling about the state they had found his house in when they'd arrived, he held up a quelling hand. "Enough. I believe your being here was not by your own volition however..." His voice lowered again. "...you brought with you the wretched chaos of your own world into my home."

Tav hesitated, tucking hair behind their ear nervously. "Not to be...blunt, Raph. But your house was kind of, um, disorderly when I got here." They pointed down the hallway in the direction of the dining room. "Your dinner table? An utter mess."

Raphael made a long low noise in the back of his throat, Tav ceased speaking at once under his piercing gaze. After a long moment he spoke again.

"You have not done lasting damage, nor pilfered any of my treasures. I know everything that happens in my house, little mouse. Every movement, every whisper does not go unmarked." His cunning eyes now swept the foyer carefully, lingering on each soul column. "After all, when the cat is away the mice will play." In one stride he took Tav's chin between his finger and thumb and tilted their head side to side. "Someone gifted you quite the disguise, sweetling." He pulled, causing Tav to stumble a couple small steps toward him till their chests brushed. "Did it give you a morsel of hope perhaps?"

Tav winced guiltily, gasping slightly as Raphael's fingers tightened in response, his aura darkening again.

"I have been so generous with you, Tav. Over and again forgiving your wayward insolence." Raphael's nose almost brushed against Tav's as he lent down. "Am I to believe you agreed to help my little Hope escape her shackles?"

Tav bent away slightly, the color draining from their face. "Only so I could obtain the disguise, Raphael. I never intended to help her."

"You lied?" Raphael sounded almost amused now. "And Hope believed you? What a desperate little Nightingale. Her cage is well-appointed. You were wise not to meddle." Raphael almost sighed as he released Tav with a slight push. "I do love the delicious sound of a soul being stripped bare and broken. However, such will not yet be your fate if you agree to assist me."

"In more than retrieving the Crown for you?" Tav asked, a knot forming in their stomach.

"Oh yes." Raphael placed a careful hand on his hip as he gesticulated with the other. "Restoring precious order. First accompany me to the soul cages, to converse with our Hope. Second, I will escort you to your Material Plane and you will deal with the diabolist of Mammon so that none will trespass in such a way again."

Tav frowned slightly, but nodded, they had little choice. "Thought you'd be more happy to see me." They frowned slightly.

"Don't pout, pet, it's unbecoming." Raphael seemed much more his charming self now, amused at Tav's muttered reproach. "After your journey is complete and the Crown is mine, you will be welcome in my house at any time." His smile twisted and his eyebrows arched. "You have my word."

[ztarvokwrites]

A Smokey Sacrifice - Smoker x GN! Reader

a/n: this is dedicated to the anon that sent me an ask that was similar to this two years ago that i never noticed until a month ago i am so sorry anon😭

synopsis: when battling with pirates makes you do something reckless, smoker almost loses his sense of self. but when your eyes finally meet his, he vows to keep you safe — whatever it takes.

warnings: kinda angst?, blood, you almost die and smoker loses his mind <3, established relationship!

word count: 1,286

Nothing could have prepared Smoker for what would happen that day; the rain, the bitter cold that nipped at his bare chest, and the blood pooled around your body. If Smoker were told you’d possibly die that day, he’d probably roll his eyes or laugh in dismissal. But now that he was there, staring at your bleeding, barely breathing body with wide eyes, he could no longer dismiss that scenario.

But what happened? You were so strong! You, Smoker and Hina, had trained together every day since you were teens, so what happened?

Perhaps you were distracted as you were slicing down every pirate that dared to stand in your way. Maybe you were too focused as you commanded the men in G-5 to attack in unison. Even so, it led to this; your struggling body clinging to dear life after pirates shot you straight through the chest.

You had noticed that, while Smoker had his back turned, a couple of pirates were about to shoot him with Sea-Prism-laced bullets. Acting upon your instincts, you leapt behind him and felt the bullets pierce through your chest, rendering you breathless upon impact and crumbling to the floor.

The moment he heard the shots ring out, his world stopped, movements slowing as he turned to see your body collapse to the ground. His brown eyes widened behind his sunglasses as a pool of blood circled your body, an overwhelming surge of shock and fury engulfing his bloodstream. Immediately, a few of his men targetted the pirates who shot you, but Smoker was already way ahead of them; using his Devil Fruit abilities, he was quick to swarm the pirates and send them flying into a brick wall, knocking them out and making them fall into a small pile of bodies. The blood that left them was nowhere near the amount of blood you had shed, and he felt his fury surge into an envious rage. Emotions fueling his actions, Smoker was quick to lash out again, zooming past his men and toward the unconscious pirates until—

“SMOKER, STOP!” Yelled Tashigi’s voice, exasperated from running after him as he continued to fly. He looked at her over his shoulder, snarling at her before the words that left her mouth next stopped him in his tracks completely, “Y/N is alive!”

“There’s a pulse but it’s very faint,” She continued, finally catching up to him and taking a deep breath. A few of their men quickly ran up to the pirates and cuffed them, lifting them easily and running back to the ship. As Tashigi caught her breath, she proceeded with what she was saying as the rain began to pour. “The ship’s doctor is checking up on them now and he said that the bullets were laced with Sea-Prism Stone. He said they narrowly avoided their heart but had pierced through their lungs and now they need emergency surgery. We need to get back to base ASAP!”

Sensing the severity of the situation, Smoker calmed himself for a moment before nodding and heading back to the ship with Tashigi, only stopping to stare at that damn pool of blood for a few seconds. They made it back to the G-5 Base in a matter of hours, their men hurriedly carrying you on a stretcher so they could get you that much-needed emergency surgery. Smoker followed them, ignoring the pleas of Tashigi or the doctor in charge that you needed to be treated in private. For him, his decision alone warranted him to keep a close eye on you, making sure the doctors treated you properly, no matter how long it took.

It felt like an eternity had passed when they finally finished patching you up. Smoker dismissed them, leaving you two alone for the time being. He watched as your chest heaved slowly, his brown eyes intensely staring at you as you rested. Smoker knew he had to leave your side at some point, but he didn’t want to. Not when your life was on the mend. Taking your limp hand in his, he took out his cigars with his other hand and exhaled a plume of smoke before bringing your hand to his lips and kissing it softly. Taking his sunglasses off, he stared straight at you, as if waiting for you to open your eyes and look back at him.

But that didn’t happen for weeks. Day turned into night, and night into day — yet Smoker never left your side. He ate dinner beside you, slept beside you — he even brushed his teeth and changed his clothes beside you. All because he needed to keep an eye on you, when, in reality, he didn’t have the heart to leave your side in this state. Every day, he wished you’d wake up. Every night, he dreamt it.

Many more weeks had passed and for once, Smoker was about to give up hope that you were ever going to open your eyes and say—

“...Smokey…? What time is it?”

Smoker sighed, mostly in frustration as he looked at the clock above your head, “It’s 5:30 in the morning-” He began to say, before he stopped, intense eyes darting towards you as you attempted to sit up, “Don’t move.”

The sternness and panic in his voice were no match for how his arms shot out to grab you, gently holding you by your underarms and sitting you up carefully. His eyes held your gaze and for a moment, he looked like he was about to cry tears of joy. One of his calloused hands cupped one side of your face and you immediately leant into his gentle touch. He leaned in as if he were about to kiss you until he suddenly grumbled, “Don’t you dare do that again, do you hear me?”

“Do you know how batshit angry I was?” Persued Smoker as his other hand reached up and cupped the other side of your face, squishing your cheeks together. “Do you have any idea how that was for us, for me, to see you sacrifice yourself and almost give your life away to those fucking pirates?! Damnit, Y/N, I can’t lose you like that again, do you understand me?!” Smoke filled the room as he raised his voice, a vein or two popping out of his forehead and his eyes glaring daggers at you.

But then, his gaze softened, tremendously so. A big sigh of relief left him as the smoke cleared out of the room. His grip on your face diminished into a light hold, his thumbs rubbing patterns onto the skin of your cheeks. A look of guilt washed over his face, but you shook your head, already knowing what he was about to say. Smoker said it anyway, “I’m sorry. I… Shouldn’t have yelled like that…” He mumbled, leaning closer again as he continued speaking, “I just don’t want to lose you.” With nothing more to say, you closed the gap and met his lips halfway, the softness of his lips clashing with yours delicately made your heart skip.

Pulling away, you looked into his eyes and smiled, “I can’t promise you anything, because if I had the chance to do it again, I would,” Your response made him frown a little, making you chuckle, “You’d do the same for me, so don’t give me that look.” Smoker looked at your lips for a moment before staring into your eyes. Before you knew it, he was kissing you and embracing you in his arms gently, as if you were going to break.

You were back, alive and safe. And Smoker vowed to do anything in his power to make it stay that way.

starnote: i am not too happy with this but i love smoker so much so idc <3

creds to @/saradika for the dividers!

[brummiereader]

PREVIOUS PART

A Ghost Of A Man (PART SIX)

Summary: The reader has to make an important decision, will she listen to the old lady's words and follow through on the mysterious way to save Tommy's life?

Warnings: Language, supernatural themes

" I hate him" were the first words that came out of your mouth as you stood outside the old lady's door, unspent tears filling your eyes.

"Oh my dear, come on, come on in" she said knowing you could only be talking about one man." Sit down my lovely, I will make you some tea" she said as she guided you to a small sofa in front of a burning fire.

Sitting down on her floral cushions you looked into the crackling flames, your hands now slowly warming up from the heat of the orange glow.

" Did you walk here?" The old lady said as she sat down next to you handing you a cup of warm tea.

" I missed my bus" you said tearfully, as you took the hot porcelain cup from her. Tea you thought to yourself, the go to remedy for all British emotional ailments, offered immediately when one is in turmoil, it's effectiveness completely useless on you, if only she had something stronger.

" What happened dear?"

" I don't know" you answered, still confused about the nights events. " I went back to the abandoned offices.. I've been visiting Tommy almost everyday ever since, everything had been going fine until tonight" you added as you started to brush away the tears." He was in a mood not long after I got there. Then I told him I had found some information that could help him for when he goes back. And that's when everything changed. He got so angry" you tearfully said as you rubbed one of your sore arms.

" He hurt you?" She asked watching you soothe yourself.

" He was furious with me... I, I don't think he realised how hard he was grabbing my arms" you replied unknowingly defending his actions.

A look of surprise flashed across the elderly ladies face only to be quickly replaced by one of fury, she was deeply angered by Tommy's actions.

" I am so sorry dear, I never thought he would... she said unable to finish her sentence as she let out a defeated sigh. " You have grown close to eachother?" She asked as she took your hand in hers.

" We have...well I mean, I thought we had" you said as you felt comforted by her gentle touch. " I wanted to help him, he took it so wrong. He said that I didn't want him to come back, but that's not true... I don't want him to go" you said completely breaking down, your emotions overtaking you. Sighing the elderly lady held your hand tighter.

" Tommy is a difficult man to deal with at the best of times" she said as she looked out the window into the night sky. " I'm not defending his behaviour dear, but there could be reason why he acted the way he did tonight" she added as she motioned at you to look out the window. "A full moon lights up the sky" she said as she watched you look out the window, confusion on your face as you tried to figure out what she was referring too"

" A full moon?" You questioned not understanding the correlation.

" We are closely connected to the lunar cycle" she said "Spirits even more. During a full moon emotions, feelings, dreams are all amplified. It's powerful in gypsy magic" she added as her aging finger pointed out the window. "The veil between our world and the spirit world is thinner, it leaves room for us to practice the unknown"

" His emotions and feelings. Feelings about what?" You asked naively.

" About you" she said with a smile.

" That man has no feelings" you said defiantly as you took a sip of tea, swallowing it harshly. Darting your eyes across the room you attempted to avoid her stare as she continued to smile at you. She knew you shared those same feelings that had begun to develope in Tommy, whether you had realised it yourself yet, she did not know.

" He will be going back tonight " she said as she looked back at the window patting your hand then letting go as she held onto her necklace." Would you still help him, if you could?" she asked as she stood up and walked over to the old cupboard picking up a black and white photo of a young girl.

" It's too late" you said as you watched her brush her fingers over the picture.

" What if I told you, you could go back?"

" I don't understand" you said as you furrowed your brow.

" Do you remember the first time you was here, I asked if you believed?" She questioned you as she placed the photo frame back down.

" Yes" you quietly responded.

" And now you do?" She asked turning to face you. You shifted in your seat nodding. You did believe, how could you not anymore.

" We are gypsy, Tommy goes back through the use of gypsy magic. You could too? She said sitting back down next to you.

" Go back where?" You asked, feeling increasingly baffled.

" Back to him. Back to 1922?"

A small laugh escaped your lips " What?" You scoffed in confusion as you stood up from the sofa " Look, the realm maybe thin and easily manipulated for him, but I'm not a gypsy, I'm not dead!" you said crossing your arms looking bewildered. Ghosts, spirits the supernatural you had begun to believe, but time travel... this was starting to get ridiculous.

" Gypsy or not, it does not matter. You are connected to him, your souls intertwined. Both drawn to eachother through time and space, don't you feel it...he does" she said standing up as she urgently tried to get to you.

" Look, this has been interesting. Thank you for the tea and for the welcome but I should really get going" you said sighing with laughter, tired having had enough of the disastrous day. " Connected, intertwined" you mumbled under your breath as you walked to the front entrance.

" That gold pocket watch in your coat pocket, connects you" she said reaching her hand out to you just as you went to open her front door. Turning around your eyes widened as you put your hand into your coat pocket, swallowing harshly as you grabbed hold of the small watch. " You need to go back to him Y/N, your running out of time" she said pressingly in fear that you would walk out the door.

" H..how, do you know i have his watch, how do you know my name?" you stuttered out. Walking to you she cupped your face in her hands.

" I have known you my whole life" she said as tears formed in the corners of her eyes.

" Who are you? " You said as you narrowed your eyes. Smiling she let go of your cheeks.

"You don't have much time left Y/N, you need to help him, Tommy needs you. If you don't go to him everythi..." she said panicking, unable to finish her sentence, as she started to lose her balance. Alarmed you quickly held her up, and walked her to the round table in the middle of the room. You held her hand watching the worry in her eyes as she quietly wept. Her words were urgent, like her whole life her whole being depended on it. You felt so sorry for the frail elderly lady that sat before you, her state of distress evidently your fault.

It was morning when you eventually stepped out the old lady's home. You ended up falling asleep on her sofa. You insisted on staying, you was worried about her, worried she would have another dizzy spell. You felt unbelievably guilty that you had been the one to cause her to feel so much distress. She told you what to do the words to say, you politely nodded reassuring her that it was ok, and to not worry. But you could tell she was scared, scared you wouldn't listen to her that you didn't believe her, she repeated the instructions to you over and over again until they were engraved into your memory, insisting that you only had until sunset, the veil being at its thinnest until darkness covered the sky once more.

Walking away from the old ladies house you felt dazed, you didn't know where to go or what to do. If she was right if you could go back to help, did you even want to? He frightened you last night more than he ever had, what had gone so wrong? Walking along the roads you found yourself heading back into town, all of a sudden you recognised where you was. Turning the corner you looked up at the old abandoned offices, you was back. What if she was wrong, what if he was still there, you felt an unbearable urge to find out. Slipping through the fences you apprehensively opened the large wooden door. Taking a deep breath you started walking up the stairs.

" Tommy" you called out as you walked into the empty room. " Tommy!" You called out once again. No response. You nervously walked over to his office, opening the door you frantically scanned the room. His leather chair empty, the smell of tobacco and whiskey no longer filled the voided space, the chilling coldness in the air absent. He was gone. For a moment you just stood there as you looked out the window, your eyes filling with tears as you pulled at your coat sleeves trying to comfort yourself. You may have entered his world and turned it upside down, but he had done just the same to you. Sunlight filled the room as you leaned against the wall, you watched as dust particles floated through the rays of light. Looking down at the old wooden desk something caught your eye as it shined in the glistening sunlight. Walking closer you recognised it immediately. Laying delicately on the old wood was your gold locket. Gasping, you picked it up, tightening your grip around it. He had left it, left it there for you. As tears rolled down your cheeks you opened your hand and looked down at the delicate little locket nestled in your palm, in that moment it felt like time had stopped, your thoughts forever turning like the dials of a clock, until, all of a sudden your feet acting faster than your brain had you walking rapidly to the stairs and out the building. You didn't know if what the old lady said was going to work, you didn't even know if it was true, but you had nothing to lose, you was going to try to go back, back to 1922, back to Tommy.

You figured you had everything you needed already with you, so, you made your way to the location the elderly lady told you to go. Walking along the street you caught your reflection in a window and stopped. You may have looked ok for 2023 but you hardly looked like someone from a hundred years ago. Turning around you headed straight into Birmingham city center. You needed to find an outfit that would not have you sticking out like a sore thumb in Small Heath 1922. With that in mind you made your way to a charity shop in hope to find something more appropriate to wear. You didn't have time to waste so you quickly searched through a rack of clothes. You pulled out a long cotton maroon skirt. You was in luck because the next hanger had its matching jacket. You had a white embroidered blouse at home that you could wear underneath, one less thing for you to worry about. Deciding to forgo a hat, all you needed now was a pair of boots and a bag. After paying, you rushed to an antique shop you often visited in your free time. Heading to the back where they stocked all items of clothing, you browsed through box after box of shoes. Finally, you fell upon a pair of black boots that laced up at the front, one size to small it was going to be an uncomfortable squeeze but you didn't have any other option, picking them up you walked over to the bags. One caught your eye straight away. It was beautiful, dark red with embroidered black flowers, a silver link chain finishing it off. Not even looking at the price you picked it up and made your way to the front desk. Just as you did you walked past a small bag of money, opening it up you realised it was a bag of king George shillings, today's money would be useless in the 1920s, so with that in mind you picked it up and added it to the pile of items already in your arm. Antiques are expensive and you waited patiently cringing internally as the shop worker totaled everything up for you. After paying, you walked out the shop door groaning at the extortionate price you had just paid for three items, you begrudgingly dragged yourself to the bus stop to make your way back home.

Sheepishly walking into your living room you expected to see your friend, but she wasn't there. She must have stayed over a Uni friends house for the night. You felt so guilty that you hadn't texted or called her last night to tell her you wouldn't make it. Pulling out a piece of paper and pen from the kitchen draw you started to write her a note, telling her how sorry you was, and that you would be going away for a while to clear your head. You couldn't exactly tell her your real plan, she would think you had truly lost it. Folding it in half you placed it on the kitchen table as you made your way to your bedroom to get ready. You left your black tights on from the night before and pulled on a white slip that you had found in your cupboard draw. While putting the rest of your clothes on you caught a glimpse of one of your arms. Tommy's red hand print visible on your pale delicate skin, a grim reminder of the night before, sighing you sat down to put your boots on. Not knowing what to do with your hair and now regretting not buying a hat you opened up your vanity draw and pulled out a black ribbon, tying half your hair up with it. Gingerly you walked over to your mirror. " My god, I look like my Nan" you said as you stared wide-eyed at your reflection. Turning around you picked up the small embroidered hand bag and placed the bag of shillings, your gold locket, Tommy's watch and the paper of information on Campbell inside. Walking over to the front door you stopped half-way. " Fuck, I can't go out looking like this" you said aloud running back to your room to throw your long black coat on.

In the bus on your way back to Small Heath, your worries were consuming you. What if this didn't work? What if it did work and Tommy pushed you away again? You had left on such a bad note, what if he was still angry with you? You swallowed sharply as your interlocked your sweaty hands, all of a sudden you had the urge to get off the bus and run back home, your nerves starting to get the better of you, but it was too late.

"Small heath" the conductor called out, startling you. After a few minutes you made your way to the front of the bus.

" Goodbye " you said as you stepped of the bus looking back at him like he was the last person you would see from the modern world ever again. Frowning at the odd girl now standing outside his bus, the conductor closed the doors and drove off, as you made your way down the street.

The roads were quiet this side of Small Heath, turning the corner you saw the panel for where you needed to be. " Small Heath Cemetery". Fitting, you thought when the elderly lady first told you your destination, you couldn't help but think you was going to your death. Her reasoning was, it was the quietest place in town, you didn't want to end up appearing in someone's front room all of a sudden while they were having their dinner. Walking up the hill you slowly opened the rusty metal gate as you then made your way up the the graveled path. You looked up at the graying sky above you, the swaying leafless branches creaking in the wind set your senses alive as you listened intently. Stopping you started to feel sick, something didn't feel right, you felt like someone was watching you. Glancing around at the eerie setting, you watched as dried leaves tumbled along the ground, slowly coming together in a heap alongside a large gray tombstone. All of a sudden the metal gate swung open crashing against the fence next to it, startling you. Turning around you expected to see someone there, but the path was empty. A large gust of wind then passed through you, pushing you forward further up to the top of the cemetery..." Go child" you heard a woman whisper in your ear in a voice you did not recognise, you spun around panicked, something was here. Stumbling you walked forward, clutching your coat around you as heat rose in your fearful face. You came to a stop as you took out Tommy's pocket watch from your bag. A chill encircled you, someone was walking around you observing your every move, waiting for you to take the next step. With shaking hands you took off your long black coat and placed it behind an old wooden bench. Holding Tommy's watch in your hand you tried to turn the small knob, but your uncontrollable shivering was making the task impossible, that was until you felt a cold pressure over your thumb, you watched on in astonishment, as the dials under the glass turned the time to 19h22, what was happening?, was it Tommy?...it couldn't be, it was a woman's voice you heard. You tried to remember the words the old lady told you, but your fear and nerves of whatever was beside you was making you uneasy. "Take me there to where I wish..." you heard the gentle voice whisper once again. Snapping your heard up to nothing you started to panic, was your mind playing tricks on you in your altered state of fear? Swallowing harshly you closed your eyes and thought of Tommy, in a shaky voice you said the words,

"Take me there to where I wish, I give my hand, I won't resist.

Withhold my soul and deliver me forth, to a time from once before.

Now heed these words, and hear me clear, send me back to whom i hold so dear"

A flash of light appeared in front of your eyes. A woman was standing before you, her dark curled hair pinned up away from her face, a fur coat covering her shoulders. Your eyes focused in as you started to make out her features, before you could move closer she reached out her hand and pushed you backwards onto the grass...

" Go to him "

NEXT PART

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