#also sorry for this stream of consciousness. I just kind of screamed mindlessly into the void for a bit because my period is coming

[kakakakashi]

hi! i’m the one that asked for “I see you” with Itachi and thank you for doing it! also I LOVE the idea of him in glasses! he’d be so cute with little glasses perched on his nose! and I can just imagine kisame seeing Itachi like squinting at distant sign posts and holding books WAY CLOSER to his face than he should need to and kisame puts two and two together and just teases him mercilessly about it (Kisame, standing 5 feet away: Hey Itachi, how many fingers am I holding up?) (part 1)

and since you asked *deep breath* so I think Itachi conflicts me so much because he seems so aloof and untouchable (and so overpowered they had to nerf him with a fatal illness because no one could kill him) and I feel like a cliche fangirl that I like him. but also I’m still so intrigued by his story and I know he can be sweet and caring and has more depth because with see him in flashbacks with Sasuke being such a loving brother. (part 2)

and I’m also conflicted about what he did. like I can agree with putting the village and his brother over anything but? forcing his brother into such an awful hateful life? Torturing him with the Tsukuyomi? Not hot. i’m so sorry this is long I have a lot of thoughts! (part 3)

Y’all probably know what happens, but I’ll say it anyway just in case. SPOILER ALERT!

Also, this is going to be long, so buckle up, buttercup. 

I’ve also linked this post throughout if you’re confused as to what I’m talking about. 

OMG! YES! Okay, so let’s talk about this! I have lots of ideas. Okay, let’s start with Itachi & glasses. So, my theory was confirmed recently when I watched the part after Sasuke kills Danzo. The mangekyou basically deteriorates your vision like a normal vision deterioration for someone with glasses. Let me also preface this with the fact that I have bad vision, and I’ve worn glasses full time since second grade.

Anyway, when I saw the scene illustrated through Sasuke’s eyes, I laughed because that’s almost exactly what my vision looks like without glasses. Therefore, we can assume that my vision is about the same as Sasuke’s before Sasuke had off brand Madara Lasik. Knowing this and knowing that glasses do exist in the Naruto universe, Sasuke literally had no reason to not get glasses. Now, knowing this, let’s move on to Itachi. Shall we?

We don’t know how often Itachi uses his mangekyou, but we can assume it’s about as much as Sasuke does. Just look at how much he uses it to fight Danzo. I think Itachi used it over time, but Sasuke used it all at once. Therefore, let’s just say Itachi had vision like Sasuke. Therefore, he could have gotten glasses too! Even if his vision was worse, there are higher prescriptions he could have gotten!

Therefore, I like to think that in some little crack AU, Itachi has these little old man glasses that he REFUSES to wear, and Kisame always tells him to wear them because “Itachi, you tripped over the curb. For the love of all things holy, WEAR YOUR DAMN GLASSES!” & Itachi is like “No, I don’t look scary enough with them.”

This also goes along with my crack idea that he loses his glasses on top of his head ALL THE TIME! I had a teacher once who had like 5 pairs of reading glasses, because she’d always put them places and forget about them, but her lessons were always so fun, nobody wanted her to interrupt the lesson to look for her glasses. One time, she ended up with two pairs on her head and one on her face. This is basically Itachi.

(Now I miss my teacher. She was so cool! Her class was so fun!) Anyway!

You are 100% right about Kisame teasing Itachi. He teases him NONSTOP about it. The man is merciless because there is literally NO reason for Itachi to resist wearing his glasses. Like, it’s so stupid. It works especially because I know I wouldn’t be able to see him 5 feet away, so there’s no way Itachi could either.

Oh! Itachi also thinks he looks more intimidating when he squints, so it’s a bonus, but he’ll never admit it.

Okay, now let’s talk about Itachi as a person. I totally get this & agree so much more than you could ever know. I literally go on this rant every damn day.

I fuckin hate Itachi. He is an idiot. He and Shisui just… Have you ever worked on a project in school with a boy who thinks there’s only one way to do a thing? Even though you show him 12 other ways to do it? And he still just ignores you even though your ways are all better? Yeah, that’s Shisui & Itachi. They may be “prodigies” but they’re also dumb boys & totally not prodigies.

Now, let’s talk about Itachi literally TORTURING HIS 9-YEAR-OLD BROTHER WHEN HE HAD NO REASON WHATSOEVER TO DO SO! Okay, so Danzo told him to kill his clan. He’s a 14-year-old boy at the time, so that’s kind of… *so-so hand motion* Now, his justification of doing it was to protect Sasuke, right? THEN WHY DID HE LITERALLY TORTUR HIM? There is no reason Itachi had to literally torture his 9-year-old brother. He chose to do that for shits n giggles. Also, what was his bullshit overdramatic teen angst bullshit thing about “testing his ability?”

Itachi should have told him something along the lines of, “You’ll understand when you’re older.” Itachi probably knew about the “curse of hatred” or whatever, and he literally encouraged it in Sasuke! He literally did more harm than good, and this bitch had the audacity to say that he did it all for Sasuke, the person he hurt the most.

Also, let’s discuss how 14-year-old Anbu level ninja Itachi should have fought Danzo on it with Shisui, and worked with their family and the leaf to help unify those bonds. This is also going back to Hiruzen being a shitty Hokage, but let’s not get into that. My point is that Itachi should’ve recognized how Danzo was wrong and fought against him. There were many, many better ways to do things. 

Wait a second! This whole thing sounds exactly like something an abuse apologist would write! Oh, wow! Never would’ve guessed! *looks at the camera like on the office because I’ve been saying this since episode 1*

Anyway, this goes back into my fanon vs. canon chat I had a little while ago. I fucking HATE canon Itachi. I never got why people liked the Uchiha, especially Itachi, until I discovered Shisui. (Let the record reflect that while I do like Shisui, I stand by my previous statement that he is stupid in canon.) I don’t even care about fanon Itachi much. I didn’t care about him at all until I discovered an artist I really liked. I only followed them for Shisui, but I gradually came to like Itachi too. Now, I like fanon Itachi somewhat. I don’t even know why I’ve been having a thing for him lately. Frankly, I’m shocked. I think it might be for the drama with Shisui, but idk. Sometimes, my pussy just wants something, and my brain is like, “wtf is wrong with you?” This is one of those times. 

It’s mostly because Itachi’s simply not my type, though. Like, some people like him, and that’s totally fine. I just never really got the appeal, but that’s my opinion. We all like different aspects of different people, and that’s cool. He’s just not my usual type at all.

I’m not too mad about it either, because I like fanon Itachi. I like the good aspects of Itachi magnified and the not so good aspects removed. It’s like Jaraiya and Sakura. Therefore, I’m not as against him as I am canon Itachi. 

Long story short, canon is horrible. I hate it, reject it, and create my own in my brain.    - 🍒

[thedyingmoon]

🖤 I See My Future Before Me 🖤

***

XXV.B

***

Vergil landed on the wrecked balcony of Fleminger’s mansion, clearly noticing its quite undisturbed state despite the Dreadnought’s massive ambuscade. The sprawling mansion, itself, still stood in one piece. The once majestic ballroom may be reduced to a complete ruin due to the Electric Furies’ attack last Saturday and Nico’s reckless driving last Tuesday but, the rest of the huge building’s parts were still intact.

With the Yamato on his hand, he cautiously entered the dark and silent premises, hoping for Fleminger to show up,…

“My Lord?” A familiar voice uttered from a distance. He squinted his eyes, trying to see through the darkness, when he noticed the Master of the house standing at a safe distance away from the entrance.

“Fleminger?” He called as he went closer, and the moment he did, he was unnerved to see the man looking really pale, like he just lost a lot of blood.

“My Lord!” He exclaimed triumphantly, his hands clasped as if in a prayer. “How wonderful to see you finally succeed!”

“Tell me,” Vergil cut him off. “… the Dreadnought. Why is it still alive? I drove the Yamato through her sister’s body and obtained her power. She should be weakened. I demand an explanation.”

“My Lord,” Fleminger began. “… I’m afraid to say that,… you have not gained everything.”

“And what do you mean by those words?”

“Inside the girl lies,… another. You may have her unmatched strength and her ability to look into the future but, you have yet to gain the most powerful ally.”

At the mere prospect of gaining more power, Vergil’s eyes clearly widened with interest. “And that is?”

Tired eyes red and pale hands rubbing against long, black, satin bishop sleeves, Fleminger spoke to him, “Immortality, my Lord. You have yet to gain her immortality. Acquire this and you shall be able put an end to the Dreadnought, once and for all. Obtain this,…” the man licked his dry lips and smiled at him. “… and you will be the most powerful being in existence. Even greater than Mundus, or Sparda, himself.”

Vergil glanced at the man with scrutinizing eyes, searching for something in Fleminger that could betray him of any kind of deceit. And when he found none, he nodded, then turned away from him.

“Then, I shall obtain it. And put an end to that Demon.”

“Even with obstacles before you?” Fleminger innocently asked just when another visitor arrived at the mansion. Vergil found out that it was none other than his son, Nero, himself.

“He is never an obstacle.” The father stated, regarding his own son with complete apathy. “Just a child who lost his way.”

“YOU WILL PAY FOR WHAT YOU’VE DONE!” Nero fumed as blue light radiated from his body, engulfing him and slowly changing him to his Devil form. “V, VERGIL, WHATEVER YOU CALL YOURSELF: FUCK YOU!”

The young Devil Hunter summoned Dante’s sword and charged forward with every intention of beating his father.

But, Vergil had other plans.

With one swift movement, he pulled out what’s left of the black contract markings from his neck, the thick, mysterious ink sticking to his fingers like glue, forcibly summoning both Shadow and Nightmare in the process.

While the golem started mindlessly destroying the place, the demonic feline only looked at Vergil in confusion, asking ‘why?’ without actual words. And this made Nero stop.

“I don’t have time for this.” Vergil told his son. “Play with these nightmares. Kill them, if you must.

"I’m done with them.”

“What are you - ?!”

With those empty words, the cold man simply walked out, changing into the light being once more as he arrived at the balcony, and soared into the skies in pursuit of his final goal. Nero was about to go after him when the abandoned familiars started attacking him.

For a brief moment, Vergil’s eyes scanned the ground below him like an eagle in search of his prey, swiftly descending when he finally spotted the remains of the Dreadnought. He morphed back to his mortal form once his feet touched the ground and made his way towards two distinct figures along the fleshy debris of Shinano Musashi.

That’s when he saw something else,…

… the girl, or what looked like her spirit,…

… who was sitting on the ground just beside her and Dante’s body.

Her head bowed down low, her tears spilling on her lap, her hands on the girl’s limp and bloody hands, she wept for her, her mournful sobs filling the silent place.

And then, Vergil realized,…

“You,…”

The girl looked up, her eyes wide with fear. He knew she wasn’t (Y/N), and yet,…

… the resemblance,…

… was uncanny.

“Vergil,” she uttered, her voice sounding awfully familiar. Like he heard it somewhere before. “… she’s dying. Please, help her. Please!”

And he thought she was already done for! One look at her told him that she’s hopeless with those fatal wounds. No other mortal could survive those.

But, of course, the being was still healing her despite her incorrigible state.

“Why are you still helping her?” He questioned, not caring about (Y/N)’s condition. “She’s dying. There’s nothing you could do to help her.”

The being glanced back at the girl, grasping her hands as tightly as she could as she still tried to heal her. “I,… never lost my faith in her,…” she explained, then looked up once more at him. “… and neither in you, Vergil.”

Her voice,…

The way she uttered his name plucked something in his heart. He knew he had seen her before, heard her voice even. He just couldn’t remember when or how exactly.

“Listen, what you are doing right now is,… futile.” Vergil urged on. “There is no power in this cruel world that could save that weak mortal. Accept her fate and face your one true Master.”

The being closed her eyes, her tears endlessly streaming down, and shook her head in denial.

Vergil sighed. He didn’t want to use the Yamato against her. The being was small and looked weak and fragile, like its resemblance. He knew he could obtain her and her power of immortality. He just needed one last push, or else,…

He pointed at the sky and spoke, “Her sister is wreaking havoc as I speak. If you do not come with me now, the whole world, and humanity, itself, will truly be annihilated, and you would no longer serve any kind of Master.” He prodded on, his patience slowly reaching its limit. “You do not want to make this any more difficult for the both of us.” He exclaimed, then extended a hand towards the being, wanting it to take it. “Come with me. Now.”

The being only looked at him, her facial expression quite difficult to read. “You must understand that, by acquiring my power, not only will you gain immortality, you will also gain the absolute knowledge of my current vessel.”

Absolute knowledge? “I understand.”

“By my sister Andromeda, you became the Protector of The Present. By my sister Cassandra, you gained the Aspect of The Future. By me, the last of the Sisters of Fate, you shall carry the burden of the past. Do you understand?”

Vergil sighed. “Yes.”

The being inhaled, looking like it was actually contemplating its decisions like a normal human being.

Her emotions, her gestures,…

… those eyes,…

In fact, she really was like a normal human girl,…

“Do you, Vergil Sparda, accept all of these conditions?”

“I do.” He gave his unwavering answer.

“Then,” she answered, finally taking Vergil’s hand. “… reunite, we shall, Master Vergil. I pray you do not regret,… your decision.”

The moment their hands made contact, the last of the Sisters of Fate vanished, her body turning into little orbs. These orbs then went directly to Vergil’s skin, merging with him, becoming one with him,…

“V,…”

When he finally succeeded in absorbing the last being, he heard a familiar female voice. His sight was abruptly stolen from him, making him drop the Yamato on the ground. His consciousness was swiftly brought to a place he didn’t know existed. He felt he was floating, hovering for a long time, and when he finally gained his sight back, he saw,…

… her memories.

(Y/N)’s memories.

All of it.

And they came crashing down in huge flashes before him,…

“I love you, Mama! I love you, Papa!”

“STOP HURTING PAPA!”

“NO! DON’T TAKE THEM AWAY! DON’T LEAVE US!”

“I’m here, (S/N). I will never leave you,…”

“What did you do to my sister?!”

“I’m sorry,…”

“Who are you?!”

“ALL OF YOU, DIE!”

“Where am I?!”

“I was not perfect. And I failed to protect her because of it.”

“There is,… someone,… in my visions. A man - with white hair. He plays the violin,…”

“I must fulfill the wish!”

“Nico, make this for me!”

“I was looking for someone,…”

“I said,… STAY!”

“Nico, it’s him! The man in my visions! The one with the markings on his skin!”

“I will protect you, V.”

“Do you know Titanic, V?”

“I think you should go see the world for yourself,…”

“I want to know what’s bothering you,…”

“V!”

“V?”

“V, please,…”

“I love you, V,…”

Vergil closed his eyes and covered his ears to shut the flood of memories away. He screamed, begging for the visions to stop plaguing him.

Then, everything went silent, as simple as that. He could no longer hear her voice, nor see her memories. It was as if the voices and the memories got sucked into oblivion, never to be seen again. The whole world was plunged into total darkness.

And then, he heard it. Another voice but, it sounded different. It did not feel chaotic. It was calm.

“I’ve waited a hundred years. I’d wait,… a million more for you,…”

A male voice sang gently just when a little orb of light appeared from a distance. Vergil took a step forward, longing to reach its warmth and protection,…

“Nothing prepared me for,… what the priviledge of being yours would do,…”

Vergil was transported to a big empty studio where a man was sitting in front of a piano, singing those soothing words.

And then, he saw her right on the corner. It was (Y/N). And she looked just the same, long (H/C) hair tied in a ponytail, graceful movements, perfect posture,…

She looked very much alive and vibrant.

“That beautiful song,… what is it about?” She asked the man on the piano, her curiosity endearing, her voice achingly lovely.

“It’s about a man who regrets the loss of a loved one and the woman who loves him the most. The love of his life. Whom he could no longer be with.” He answered, playing some notes, then sang once more. “If I have only felt the warmth,… within your touch,…”

“Could you,…” she began, positioning herself in the middle of the empty room. “… start from the beginning?”

The man smiled as his hands gently glided on the keys once more.

And just as he began playing, Vergil heard a thunderclap. He turned to look at the windows and realized it was raining outside. He, then, glanced back at the middle of the room, and saw,…

… his former fragile self sitting on the floor with his first demonic familiar, Griffon, just behind him, watching (Y/N) as she began dancing to the man’s song.

He could still remember this exact moment on that abandoned studio that one rainy day. All he could hear by then was the sound of the rain, the thunder, and her light steps.

But, now, it was as if the two memories, his and hers, overlapped and merged into one sad vision, finally enabling him to hear the song she danced to and see once more how graceful and delicate she was.

With the sweet music, the sound of the rain and the thunder vanished. He listened as the man began playing and watched as the girl began dancing.

“I’ve waited a hundred years.

I’d wait a million more,… for you.

Nothing prepared me for,

What the priviledge of being yours,… would do.

If I had only felt,… the warmth within your touch.

If I had only seen,… how you smile,… when you blush.

Or how you curl your lip,… when you concentrate enough,

Oh, I would’ve known,… what I’ve been living for,… all along.

What I’ve been living,… for.”

The music gradually went louder as the girl began twirling, her raw movements in time with the music.

“Your love is my turning page,

Where only the sweetest words,... remain.

Every kiss is a cursive line,

Every touch is a redefining phrase.

I surrender who I've been,... for who you are.

For nothing makes me stronger than,

... your fragile heart.

If I had only felt how it feels,... to be yours,

Oh, I would've known,... what I've been living for,...

... all along,..."

He felt his tears fall down just as the former him began weeping with her movements alone.

He never actually felt,... how it feels to be hers,...

And now, he not only left her, he hurt her, as well,...

... for such a stupid thing as absolute power.

He chose power,... over her.

Over the woman,...

... he now knew he truly loved.

And not because she had the ability to lure Demons like what Fleminger told him, no.

It was because of who and everything she was.

"What I've been living for."

“Ah! I’m so sorry! I would never do this again! I - ”

Vergil snapped from his reverie as he saw his former self hugging her tightly, not wanting to let her go.

"Hey, it's okay." She reassured him. "I'll never leave you. I promise,... "

All of a sudden, the sweet memory abruptly changed to that of the times when he neglected her, rejected her, and that moment when he,...

"I love you, V."

"I choose,... POWER!"

But, still, the song remained,...

"Though we're tethered,

To the story we would tell.

When I saw you,

Oh, I knew we'd tell it well,...

With a whisper,... we will tame the vicious seas.

Like a feather,

Bringing kingdoms to,... their knees,..."

“What matters is that you still have precious people around you, my Lady. You must focus on not losing them, as well.”

"THE PAST WILL WEEP, THE PRESENT WILL KNEEL, AND THE FUTURE WILL DIE!"

Vergil opened his eyes, feeling his tears on his face as he stared at her lifeless body on the ground. And when the thoughts of those painful visions went back to him,...

... he fell on his knees,...

... right before the woman he loved above all else.

And on that heart - wrenching moment, he suddenly felt his own sword drive through him, its tip sticking out of his stomach, dripping with his own blood.

And with that swift, decisive moment, the Sisters of Fate left his body and went directly to whoever stabbed him.

Just like that, they were stolen away from him.

He changed back to his former fragile self, crumbling, wheezing,...

... dying,...

Vergil,... was no more.

He felt the Yamato being pulled away from him as he coughed blood. He fell on the ground just beside (Y/N) and glanced up to find Fleminger with the Yamato.

"There was,... one vital part you didn't know about the story of the Dreadnought, my Lord." The Master, the true enemy and traitor, began, theatrically swinging the Yamato like a cane.

"F - flemin - g - ger,..." V wheezed, his blood staining the ground beneath him, his rage for the man, who was the cause of all this madness, overtaking his whole being.

"There has never been a Dreadnought, or a Shinano Musashi, to begin with. They were only made up. But,... there was a girl named (S/N) (L/N). She was the most perfect girl in all of existence, and my ancestors chose her to be the vessel of Pandemonium, a Demon whose powers rival that of Mundus'. Even greater.

"And Pandemonium did choose her eventually. My ancestors were about to achieve immortality through her when her sister, by the name of (Y/N) (L/N), happened to massacre almost all of them in rage, including the orphans they were raising. Apparently, she was chosen by three equally powerful beings - the Sisters Of Fate, Cassandra, Andromeda, and Galatea - to fulfill another mission. And that mission is to locate you, protect you, and reunite the Sisters back to Sparda's family."

Flemiger walked around V, who was squirming in pain and cowering with fear.

"It seems she succeeded on that mission of hers. You obtained power through her, and I took it from you. I fulfilled my revenge on (Y/N) for murdering my ancestors, thanks to you, my Lord. And for that, I will forever be grateful." The fiend expressed his sincere gratitude towards V. "Oh, and letting Pandemonium, who will only answer to me, destroy everything she wanted was only a collateral."

Fleminger sheathed the Yamato and went to the opposite direction. But, before he left, he turned back to V and smiled at him. He even threw a piece of a familiar leather fabric at him. And in complete horror, he realized whose it was.

It belonged to him,...

Nero,... V thought, his hopes shattering. My,... son,...

"Oh, and have I told you that Galatea, who was the Bearer of The Past, kept (Y/N)'s body safe and in stasis for a hundred years just for you? After all, she was the one who searched through different timelines for the perfect vessel. I did say that the tragedy of Fortuna happened a hundred years ago, am I right, my Lord?" He raised the Yamato at him like a salute of some sort then bowed. "Farewell, son of Sparda."

And with those final words, Fleminger left him.

V felt the whole world around him fall apart as the Dreadnought - (S/N) - started firing her destructive lasers once more.

And who could blame her? After seeing her beloved sister suffer at the hands of the man she loved, could she still think of anyone worthy of redemption?

***

~ I dedicate this chapter to @la-vita for helping me with this fic through XXV.A's German dialogue and her helpful tips for making V IC. Thank you so much. 🖤

~@vergils-daughter , @heaven-on-a-landslide , @micaelagua , @yepps , @sofia-micaela , @lessy86 , @beyond-the-mirror , @gxthghoulfriend , @ehrzeth , @ceruleanworld , @simmy-ships , @boundbysoul , @diabeticsugarush , and @krazy06 . 🖤

***

His hand went to the fatal wound on his stomach. The pain was actually going away as he slowly felt numbness taking over his whole body. Well, he was truly dying now.

And he will die just like that - alone, weak,...

... pathetic,...

And he knew he deserved it.

He crawled towards (Y/N) and reached for her cold hands. He, then, made an effort to pull her towards him for one last embrace.

It was then that he remembered their conversation inside the abandoned studio just after her dance.

"Can you quote something from Shakespeare?" He fondly remembered her asking him with a shy and awkward smile. "After all, Griffon always calls you Shakespeare,..."

"Oh, here will I set up,... my everlasting rest and shake the yoke of,... inauspicious stars from this,... world - wearied,... flesh!"

V quoted, then coughed blood once more. He wrapped (Y/N) in his embrace, not wanting to let her go in this final moment.

"... eyes look,... your last. Arms, take your last embrace. And lips,... oh you the doors of,... breath,... seal with a righteous kiss,... a dateless,... bargain,... to engrossing death,..."

He gently kissed her forehead and took a deep breath, feeling the whole world around him vanish with complete darkness as his eyesight became blurry.

"... if only,... I could go back,... and change,... everything,..."

He whispered, regrets drowning him as his eyelids closed,...

*

*

*

*

*

*

*

*

*

*

"Master, open your eyes!"

"G - gala - t - tea?"

***

🖤🖤🖤

***

~ 12 ~

***

[etlunainmorte]

❤ I See My Future Before Me ❤

***

XXV.B

***

Vergil landed on the wrecked balcony of Fleminger’s mansion, clearly noticing its quite undisturbed state despite the Dreadnought’s massive ambuscade. The sprawling mansion, itself, still stood in one piece. The once majestic ballroom may be reduced to a complete ruin due to the Electric Furies’ attack last Saturday and Nico’s reckless driving last Tuesday but, the rest of the huge building’s parts were still intact.

With the Yamato on his hand, he cautiously entered the dark and silent premises, hoping for Fleminger to show up,…

“My Lord?” A familiar voice uttered from a distance. He squinted his eyes, trying to see through the darkness, when he noticed the Master of the house standing at a safe distance away from the entrance.

“Fleminger?” He called as he went closer, and the moment he did, he was unnerved to see the man looking really pale, like he just lost a lot of blood.

“My Lord!” He exclaimed triumphantly, his hands clasped as if in a prayer. “How wonderful to see you finally succeed!”

“Tell me,” Vergil cut him off. “… the Dreadnought. Why is it still alive? I drove the Yamato through her sister’s body and obtained her power. She should be weakened. I demand an explanation.”

“My Lord,” Fleminger began. “… I’m afraid to say that,… you have not gained everything.”

“And what do you mean by those words?”

“Inside the girl lies,… another. You may have her unmatched strength and her ability to look into the future but, you have yet to gain the most powerful ally.”

At the mere prospect of gaining more power, Vergil’s eyes clearly widened with interest. “And that is?”

Tired eyes red and pale hands rubbing against long, black, satin bishop sleeves, Fleminger spoke to him, “Immortality, my Lord. You have yet to gain her immortality. Acquire this and you shall be able put an end to the Dreadnought, once and for all. Obtain this,…” the man licked his dry lips and smiled at him. “… and you will be the most powerful being in existence. Even greater than Mundus, or Sparda, himself.”

Vergil glanced at the man with scrutinizing eyes, searching for something in Fleminger that could betray him of any kind of deceit. And when he found none, he nodded, then turned away from him.

“Then, I shall obtain it. And put an end to that Demon.”

“Even with obstacles before you?” Fleminger innocently asked just when another visitor arrived at the mansion. Vergil found out that it was none other than his son, Nero, himself.

“He is never an obstacle.” The father stated, regarding his own son with complete apathy. “Just a child who lost his way.”

“YOU WILL PAY FOR WHAT YOU’VE DONE!” Nero fumed as blue light radiated from his body, engulfing him and slowly changing him to his Devil form. “V, VERGIL, WHATEVER YOU CALL YOURSELF: FUCK YOU!”

The young Devil Hunter summoned Dante’s sword and charged forward with every intention of beating his father.

But, Vergil had other plans.

With one swift movement, he pulled out what’s left of the black contract markings from his neck, the thick, mysterious ink sticking to his fingers like glue, forcibly summoning both Shadow and Nightmare in the process.

While the golem started mindlessly destroying the place, the demonic feline only looked at Vergil in confusion, asking ‘why?’ without actual words. And this made Nero stop.

“I don’t have time for this.” Vergil told his son. “Play with these nightmares. Kill them, if you must.

“I’m done with them.”

“What are you - ?!”

With those empty words, the cold man simply walked out, changing into the light being once more as he arrived at the balcony, and soared into the skies in pursuit of his final goal. Nero was about to go after him when the abandoned familiars started attacking him.

For a brief moment, Vergil’s eyes scanned the ground below him like an eagle in search of his prey, swiftly descending when he finally spotted the remains of the Dreadnought. He morphed back to his mortal form once his feet touched the ground and made his way towards two distinct figures along the fleshy debris of Shinano Musashi.

That’s when he saw something else,…

… the girl, or what looked like her spirit,…

… who was sitting on the ground just beside her and Dante’s body.

Her head bowed down low, her tears spilling on her lap, her hands on the girl’s limp and bloody hands, she wept for her, her mournful sobs filling the silent place.

And then, Vergil realized,…

“You,…”

The girl looked up, her eyes wide with fear. He knew she wasn’t (Y/N), and yet,…

… the resemblance,…

… was uncanny.

“Vergil,” she uttered, her voice sounding awfully familiar. Like he heard it somewhere before. “… she’s dying. Please, help her. Please!”

And he thought she was already done for! One look at her told him that she’s hopeless with those fatal wounds. No other mortal could survive those.

But, of course, the being was still healing her despite her incorrigible state.

“Why are you still helping her?” He questioned, not caring about (Y/N)’s condition. “She’s dying. There’s nothing you could do to help her.”

The being glanced back at the girl, grasping her hands as tightly as she could as she still tried to heal her. “I,… never lost my faith in her,…” she explained, then looked up once more at him. “… and neither in you, Vergil.”

Her voice,…

The way she uttered his name plucked something in his heart. He knew he had seen her before, heard her voice even. He just couldn’t remember when or how exactly.

“Listen, what you are doing right now is,… futile.” Vergil urged on. “There is no power in this cruel world that could save that weak mortal. Accept her fate and face your one true Master.”

The being closed her eyes, her tears endlessly streaming down, and shook her head in denial.

Vergil sighed. He didn’t want to use the Yamato against her. The being was small and looked weak and fragile, like its resemblance. He knew he could obtain her and her power of immortality. He just needed one last push, or else,…

He pointed at the sky and spoke, “Her sister is wreaking havoc as I speak. If you do not come with me now, the whole world, and humanity, itself, will truly be annihilated, and you would no longer serve any kind of Master.” He prodded on, his patience slowly reaching its limit. “You do not want to make this any more difficult for the both of us.” He exclaimed, then extended a hand towards the being, wanting it to take it. “Come with me. Now.”

The being only looked at him, her facial expression quite difficult to read. “You must understand that, by acquiring my power, not only will you gain immortality, you will also gain the absolute knowledge of my current vessel.”

Absolute knowledge? “I understand.”

“By my sister Andromeda, you became the Protector of The Present. By my sister Cassandra, you gained the Aspect of The Future. By me, the last of the Sisters of Fate, you shall carry the burden of the past. Do you understand?”

Vergil sighed. “Yes.”

The being inhaled, looking like it was actually contemplating its decisions like a normal human being.

Her emotions, her gestures,…

… those eyes,…

In fact, she really was like a normal human girl,…

“Do you, Vergil Sparda, accept all of these conditions?”

“I do.” He gave his unwavering answer.

“Then,” she answered, finally taking Vergil’s hand. “… reunite, we shall, Master Vergil. I pray you do not regret,… your decision.”

The moment their hands made contact, the last of the Sisters of Fate vanished, her body turning into little orbs. These orbs then went directly to Vergil’s skin, merging with him, becoming one with him,…

“V,…”

When he finally succeeded in absorbing the last being, he heard a familiar female voice. His sight was abruptly stolen from him, making him drop the Yamato on the ground. His consciousness was swiftly brought to a place he didn’t know existed. He felt he was floating, hovering for a long time, and when he finally gained his sight back, he saw,…

… her memories.

(Y/N)’s memories.

All of it.

And they came crashing down in huge flashes before him,…

“I love you, Mama! I love you, Papa!”

“STOP HURTING PAPA!”

“NO! DON’T TAKE THEM AWAY! DON’T LEAVE US!”

“I’m here, (S/N). I will never leave you,…”

“What did you do to my sister?!”

“I’m sorry,…”

“Who are you?!”

“ALL OF YOU, DIE!”

“Where am I?!”

“I was not perfect. And I failed to protect her because of it.”

“There is,… someone,… in my visions. A man - with white hair. He plays the violin,…”

“I must fulfill the wish!”

“Nico, make this for me!”

“I was looking for someone,…”

“I said,… STAY!”

“Nico, it’s him! The man in my visions! The one with the markings on his skin!”

“I will protect you, V.”

“Do you know Titanic, V?”

“I think you should go see the world for yourself,…”

“I want to know what’s bothering you,…”

“V!”

“V?”

“V, please,…”

“I love you, V,…”

Vergil closed his eyes and covered his ears to shut the flood of memories away. He screamed, begging for the visions to stop plaguing him.

Then, everything went silent, as simple as that. He could no longer hear her voice, nor see her memories. It was as if the voices and the memories got sucked into oblivion, never to be seen again. The whole world was plunged into total darkness.

And then, he heard it. Another voice but, it sounded different. It did not feel chaotic. It was calm.

“I’ve waited a hundred years. I’d wait,… a million more for you,…”

A male voice sang gently just when a little orb of light appeared from a distance. Vergil took a step forward, longing to reach its warmth and protection,…

“Nothing prepared me for,… what the privilege of being yours would do,…”

Vergil was transported to a big empty studio where a man was sitting in front of a piano, singing those soothing words.

And then, he saw her right on the corner. It was (Y/N). And she looked just the same, long (H/C) hair tied in a ponytail, graceful movements, perfect posture,…

She looked very much alive and vibrant.

“That beautiful song,… what is it about?” She asked the man on the piano, her curiosity endearing, her voice achingly lovely.

“It’s about a man who regrets the loss of a loved one and the woman who loves him the most. The love of his life. Whom he could no longer be with.” He answered, playing some notes, then sang once more. “If I have only felt the warmth,… within your touch,…”

“Could you,…” she began, positioning herself in the middle of the empty room. “… start from the beginning?”

The man smiled as his hands gently glided on the keys once more.

And just as he began playing, Vergil heard a thunderclap. He turned to look at the windows and realized it was raining outside. He, then, glanced back at the middle of the room, and saw,…

… his former fragile self sitting on the floor with his first demonic familiar, Griffon, just behind him, watching (Y/N) as she began dancing to the man’s song.

He could still remember this exact moment on that abandoned studio that one rainy day. All he could hear by then was the sound of the rain, the thunder, and her light steps.

But, now, it was as if the two memories, his and hers, overlapped and merged into one sad vision, finally enabling him to hear the song she danced to and see once more how graceful and delicate she was.

With the sweet music, the sound of the rain and the thunder vanished. He listened as the man began playing and watched as the girl began dancing.

“I’ve waited a hundred years.

I’d wait a million more,… for you.

Nothing prepared me for,

What the privilege of being yours,… would do.

If I had only felt,… the warmth within your touch.

If I had only seen,… how you smile,… when you blush.

Or how you curl your lip,… when you concentrate enough,

Oh, I would’ve known,… what I’ve been living for,… all along.

What I’ve been living,… for.”

The music gradually went louder as the girl began twirling, her raw movements in time with the music.

“Your love is my turning page,

Where only the sweetest words,… remain.

Every kiss is a cursive line,

Every touch is a redefining phrase.

I surrender who I’ve been,… for who you are.

For nothing makes me stronger than,

… your fragile heart.

If I had only felt how it feels,… to be yours,

Oh, I would’ve known,… what I’ve been living for,…

… all along,…”

He felt his tears fall down just as the former him began weeping with her movements alone.

He never actually felt,… how it feels to be hers,…

And now, he not only left her, he hurt her, as well,…

… for such a stupid thing as absolute power.

He chose power,… over her.

Over the woman,…

… he now knew he truly loved.

And not because she had the ability to lure Demons like what Fleminger told him, no.

It was because of who and everything she was.

“What I’ve been living for.”

“Ah! I’m so sorry! I would never do this again! I - ”

Vergil snapped from his reverie as he saw his former self hugging her tightly, not wanting to let her go.

“Hey, it’s okay.” She reassured him. “I’ll never leave you. I promise,… ”

All of a sudden, the sweet memory abruptly changed to that of the times when he neglected her, rejected her, and that moment when he,…

“I love you, V.”

“I choose,… POWER!”

But, still, the song remained,…

“Though we’re tethered,

To the story we would tell.

When I saw you,

Oh, I knew we’d tell it well,…

With a whisper,… we will tame the vicious seas.

Like a feather,

Bringing kingdoms to,… their knees,…”

“What matters is that you still have precious people around you, my Lady. You must focus on not losing them, as well.”

“THE PAST WILL WEEP, THE PRESENT WILL KNEEL, AND THE FUTURE WILL DIE!”

Vergil opened his eyes, feeling his tears on his face as he stared at her lifeless body on the ground. And when the thoughts of those painful visions went back to him,…

… he fell on his knees,…

… right before the woman he loved above all else.

And on that heart - wrenching moment, he suddenly felt his own sword drive through him, its tip sticking out of his stomach, dripping with his own blood.

And with that swift, decisive moment, the Sisters of Fate left his body and went directly to whoever stabbed him.

Just like that, they were stolen away from him.

He changed back to his former fragile self, crumbling, wheezing,…

… dying,…

Vergil,… was no more.

He felt the Yamato being pulled away from him as he coughed blood. He fell on the ground just beside (Y/N) and glanced up to find Fleminger with the Yamato.

“There was,… one vital part you didn’t know about the story of the Dreadnought, my Lord.” The Master, the true enemy and traitor, began, theatrically swinging the Yamato like a cane.

“F - flemin - g - ger,…” V wheezed, his blood staining the ground beneath him, his rage for the man, who was the cause of all this madness, overtaking his whole being.

“There has never been a Dreadnought, or a Shinano Musashi, to begin with. They were only made up. But,… there was a girl named (S/N) (L/N). She was the most perfect girl in all of existence, and my ancestors chose her to be the vessel of Pandemonium, a Demon whose powers rival that of Mundus’. Even greater.

"And Pandemonium did choose her eventually. My ancestors were about to achieve immortality through her when her sister, by the name of (Y/N) (L/N), happened to massacre almost all of them in rage, including the orphans they were raising. Apparently, she was chosen by three equally powerful beings - the Sisters Of Fate, Cassandra, Andromeda, and Galatea - to fulfill another mission. And that mission is to locate you, protect you, and reunite the Sisters back to Sparda’s family.”

Flemiger walked around V, who was squirming in pain and cowering with fear.

“It seems she succeeded on that mission of hers. You obtained power through her, and I took it from you. I fulfilled my revenge on (Y/N) for murdering my ancestors, thanks to you, my Lord. And for that, I will forever be grateful.” The fiend expressed his sincere gratitude towards V. “Oh, and letting Pandemonium, who will only answer to me, destroy everything she wanted was only a collateral.”

Fleminger sheathed the Yamato and went to the opposite direction. But, before he left, he turned back to V and smiled at him. He even threw a piece of a familiar leather fabric at him. And in complete horror, he realized whose it was.

It belonged to him,…

Nero,… V thought, his hopes shattering. My,… son,…

“Oh, and have I told you that Galatea, who was the Bearer of The Past, kept (Y/N)’s body safe and in stasis for a hundred years just for you? After all, she was the one who searched through different timelines for the perfect vessel. I did say that the tragedy of Fortuna happened a hundred years ago, am I right, my Lord?” He raised the Yamato at him like a salute of some sort then bowed. “Farewell, son of Sparda.”

And with those final words, Fleminger left him.

V felt the whole world around him fall apart as the Dreadnought - (S/N) - started firing her destructive lasers once more.

And who could blame her? After seeing her beloved sister suffer at the hands of the man she loved, could she still think of anyone worthy of redemption?

***

His hand went to the fatal wound on his stomach. The pain was actually going away as he slowly felt numbness taking over his whole body. Well, he was truly dying now.

And he will die just like that - alone, weak,…

… pathetic,…

And he knew he deserved it.

He crawled towards (Y/N) and reached for her cold hands. He, then, made an effort to pull her towards him for one last embrace.

It was then that he remembered their conversation inside the abandoned studio just after her dance.

“Can you quote something from Shakespeare?” He fondly remembered her asking him with a shy and awkward smile. “After all, Griffon always calls you Shakespeare,…”

“Oh, here will I set up,… my everlasting rest and shake the yoke of,… inauspicious stars from this,… world - wearied,… flesh!”

V quoted, then coughed blood once more. He wrapped (Y/N) in his embrace, not wanting to let her go in this final moment.

“… eyes look,… your last. Arms, take your last embrace. And lips,… oh you the doors of,… breath,… seal with a righteous kiss,… a dateless,… bargain,… to engrossing death,…”

He gently kissed her forehead and took a deep breath, feeling the whole world around him vanish with complete darkness as his eyesight became blurry.

“… if only,… I could go back,… and change,… everything,…”

He whispered, regrets drowning him as his eyelids closed,…

*

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“Master, open your eyes!”

“G - gala - t - tea?”

***

❤❤❤

***

[detailsinmydevils]

“You know, it fucking hurts me that I have to do that, Morgan. It really does.” Ogre said in a very serious tone, with a hint of sadness in his voice rather than the anger one would usually feel in a situation like that. In the past he used to get really angry with Morgue’s escapes and relapses, but it was mostly because he was extremely worried about his well being. One of the singer’s biggest fears was to lose his best friend to addiction. “But until you learn to have more self control, I’m going to have to lock you up like a fucking animal.” Ogre bitterly said as he locked the last of the locks on Morgue’s bedroom door. He felt incredibly evil and cruel doing that, but he couldn’t take any chances; every time his friend escaped, he got into some sort of life threatening situation. Ogre vividly remembered how stressful and painful all those episodes were to him. “I’m going out, I won’t take too long. I’m sorry, Morgan.” He sighed sadly and made his way out of the apartment.

Ogre mindlessly walked by the sidewalk, even though he knew he should be more careful, living in a dangerous area like that. He hoped one day Morgue would be well enough and they would have enough money to move out to a better place. His mind wandered as he thought about his friend while also being focused on getting to his destination. Suddenly, a loud whistle and a yelled word took him out of his thoughts. “Faggot”. That was what the man yelled. Ogre stopped dead in his tracks and turned around. Two bald men glared at him from the other side of the sidewalk. Feeling his blood boil with anger, Ogre glared back. Looking the way he did, having fluffy teased hair and wearing mostly tight fitting black clothes, he was used to receiving that kind of response from people, but it always angered him. “Fuck off!” He barked at them and resumed walking, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket. The men would probably walk away and mind their own business, or at least that’s what Ogre thought. He didn’t really care when he began hearing hurried footsteps behind him.

“What did you say, fairy?!”

Ogre felt the hairs in the back of his neck stand up as he heard the man’s booming voice right behind him. He spun around, his heart racing, and as the two men walked closer to him, he walked backwards, trying to back away from them. “I told you to fuck off and leave me alone!” Feeling threatened, the singer shoved one of the men. Right as he tried to run away, the other one put him in a headlock. “Get off me!” Ogre yelled, struggling against the man’s grip but to no avail; he was much stronger than him, even with the singer being slightly taller. Still thrashing and struggling, he was effortlessly dragged into an alleyway by the two men. “Let me go!” Ogre choked out as the headlock tightened around his neck to the point he could barely breathe.

“You know, faggots like you shouldn’t live in our society. You’re fucking scum.” The skinhead said, with a malicious grin on his face. Ogre coughed as he was released from the headlock, but his freedom didn’t last long as the man who was holding him grabbed his arms, pinning them to his back. The singer opened his mouth to reply to him, but froze as he saw the faint glistening of a blade in the penumbra. A hand clamped tightly over his mouth, muffling his terrified scream. Ogre began to struggle so desperately that he managed to free one of his arms, but the man was quicker. Tears of pain streamed down his face and he let out a muffled cry as he felt the blade of the knife pierce his stomach. The skinhead’s face was inches away from his and his eyes glowed with pure hatred and joy. Ogre screamed in agony as he stabbed him over and over again.

“Be careful not to get any blood on you, this skinny fag must have AIDS.” The other bald man stated, letting out a cruel laugh.

“You’re right. Just one more.” The man buried the knife deep into Ogre’s stomach, twisting it hard, but slowly. The singer felt as if he was about to pass out from the unbearable pain. “Where’s your boyfriend?” The skinhead taunted him, giving the blade another sharp twist before he removed it from the wound. “Pray that he comes save you. Or don’t, cause if he comes, we’re gonna kill him too.” Putting the knife away, he searched through Ogre’s pockets until he found his wallet. “Let’s go.”

Ogre dropped to the floor as soon as the man released him. He delivered a hard kick in the middle of the singer’s shoulder blades, making him fall over face first on the pavement. Ogre heard the footsteps and cruel laughter moving away from him. For a few moments, he absolutely could not move, being in too much pain to be able to do anything else other than groan and cry, pressing his hands against the bleeding wound. He hoped someone would hear him and come to his aid, but after the skinheads left, the street fell silent. Ogre removed his hands from his stomach and gasped as he saw how badly he was actually bleeding. Sobbing both in pain and in fear, he slowly began propping himself up against the wall so he could stand up. His legs felt numb as he took careful, erratic steps out of the alleyway. Looking around, he noticed the streets were indeed empty. More tears welled up inside his eyes as his dizziness began to increase. He didn’t feel like he could hang in much longer, but he knew that if he passed out, he would bleed to death. “H-Help...” Ogre tried to scream, but his voice came out in a weak groan. He was doomed: there was no one in sight to help him, he couldn’t use a payphone to call for an ambulance because his wallet had been stolen and he had locked up the only person that could come to his aid. “I-I don’t want to die...” He whispered, not realizing he had said that out loud.

Suddenly, a bright light flashed over him and he looked up to see a car coming down the road. Ogre didn’t think twice before literally throwing himself over the car, which stopped abruptly before hitting him. “Please! Please, help me!” The singer found his voice again as he leaned over the hood and staining it with blood, barely being able to support himself anymore. He heard the muffled sound of loud punk rock music coming from inside the car, and he felt relief wash over him as a group of people with colorful mohawks and long hair jumped out.

“Fuck, are you okay, dude?” A man with long, dark hair and a studded vest grabbed Ogre right as he was about to fall to the floor again. At this point the singer was blabbering incoherently, begging for them to help him and sobbing hard as he felt his consciousness slipping as the minutes passed.

“That goth is bleeding like a pig!” A girl with a pink mohawk yelled, horrified. “He needs to go to the hospital right now, guys!”

“Hey, can you tell us what happened? What’s your name?” A calmer and more collected metalhead tried to talk to Ogre. The mess of colors and sounds didn’t help him keep his focus. He felt himself being lifted up and put into the backseat of the car. Someone took his jacket off and pressed it against the wound in his stomach.

“I... My n-name is Kevin... Kevin Ogilvie.” Ogre tried to piece his words together as he felt his mind slipping further. “I-I was attacked b-by... Nazis... I need help!” A punk guy comforted him as he began crying again. “Please, I-I don’t wanna die!”

“You’ll be okay, dude.” The punk guy tried to reassure him, gently stroking his fluffy hair. “Nazis are fucking scum.”

Ogre couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore, but he felt the car going across the streets at a fast speed. “M-Morgan...” He muttered. “Tell him...”

“Who’s Morgan?” Was the last thing he heard before everything went dark and silent.

@bringmemycocaine