#and i want reader to be badass too so...

[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.

[throwmethroughawindow]

this is so Ace coded PLEASE‼️‼️ I just know he would love a strong s/o who could hold their own and take no shit, please please please!!!!

[boowritess]

part 2 lol

so apparently it's really fucking hard to get into the SAS. and ontop of that I've been getting tiktoks of people going around an army base asking why they joined. most responses were to pay off student loans, bills, school, (someone said there's was 6 years of prison or school and *mental note for idea*), the recruiter lied or spoilt them, barracks bunny.

141 (poly?) x notsobaddasssoldier!reader

and now i can't stop thinking of soldier!reader. who really half-assed their way through everything - only doing the job for the money and to pay off student loans + they had nothing better to do.

who somehow ends up being adopted by Price (kinda like Gaz i guess ???) all because reader happened to be in the right place at the right time and saved Price's ass while managing to complete a mission the Task Force were doing.

and it's not that you saved his ass or completed the mission that makes Price go *this is mine* - it's the fact that afterwards all you can say is-

"this shit is so not worth paying off my student loans."

"oh fuck i forgot to cancel my subscription. fuckk- waste of fucking money"

- all the while a building is burning in front of you but yeah just not at all concerned about what had just happened. so price just *grabs you by the back of your neck and holds you up, claiming you as part of his task force now.*

(lol you probably can't do that irl but this is fiction sooo suck my ass.)

and laswell's just like no... they are very much still green john. way too green. no.

but it's too late. he's already introducing you to the task force. singing your praises and you're just like

"man he promised to pay off my student loans and give me food." basically how ur recruiter got ya ass.

enough said. you get the whole off the books speech, saving the world by doing things others wouldn't like. but u couldn't give a rats ass - you should but nah...

and like... you know you're the rookie... you're still green... but some of the shit 141 do you just...

"so you just gonna kidnap the wife AND the child...? right... kid, you wanna watch bluey? here..."

"and you do this often...? crazy."

but you don't exactly protest. how could you with how much you get paid. you kinda just side-eye and look away when it's geta a lil crazy. *bombastic side-eye*

and the other 141 guys - oh my days. become just as enormed as price and want to start really trying to amplify your skills. but every time, they start explaining how to do things - the best way to go about a situation or how to fight a certain way.

you pull this face. like your top lip pulls back, your eyebrows scrunch together, and there's a slight frown on your lips as they speak. like you look confused/disgusted. but you don't even realise cause-

"why're you pulling that face?" 141

"that's... that's just my focusing face..."

"oh..." 141 feels bad

then when they do take you in feild you're shaking your head no. like you haven't been around that long. what the fuck? now you're bout to infiltrate an enemy base!?!?!

"can i just wait in the car?"

"no." price

"i'm gonna vomit."

"aim at the enemy." ghost

people think that because you're suddenly in this badass task force that surely they're just using you for your assets.

they all think you're the 141 barracks bunny. and maybe you should be pissed or annoyed or grossed out. but all you can do is sigh and pause from the burger price got you, and let out a long exhale.

"fuck... maybe i can just do onlyfans or be a pornstar... shit maybe it's not too late..."

"military is bascially sex work - selling my body..."

"not that different from what i'm doing now. body being used, check. body sore in the strangest places, check."

your tone so empty, blank and nonchalant, but there's a serious look in your eyes that when you grab your phone out to maybe do a little research on how you could do that, your phone is snatched from your hand by one of the guys and they walk out the room without a second look back.

with an annoyed huff, you go back to eating your burger. but suddenly, you turn to the person who genuinely thought you were a barracks bunny.

"hey you think if i be a barracks bunny i get out of missions and shit?"

"...that's not how it works..." rando.

"fuck."

and maybe you try...

like you go to price's office and the guys are already in there, chatting about something that you should really pay attention too but you can't be assed. instead you unashamedly start to speak...

"if i suck ya'll dicks can i get out the mission?"

"no. you still have to join." gaz says amused

"even if you-" *que long sigh from price* "even if you suck our dicks."

"that's fucked up. i should've done porn."

and with the most hurt and broken-hearted look on your face, you leave the office, closing the door with a dramatic sigh. the guys just stare at the door in... confusion, amusement, and maybe arousal if ya'll dig that

idk man just gimmie more soldier!reader who just really ain't the fucked, there for money, lowkey hungry and doesn't know what the fuck is happening. kinda a pet or little sibling energy that the 141 love.

bonus*

"wait so they aren't sucking our dicks?" *soap says getting slapped in the back of the head by ghost

a/n: brain is rottinnggg. i should be doing so much other shit but... cod just consumes my brain 24/7

[ay0nha]

please tag me in future parts <33

"Didn't mean to make your heart Blue" || [3/...]

- OPLA!Buggy x F!Reader

"And I am the idiot with the painted face, in the corner taking up space. But when he walks in, I am loved."

— Mitski, "Me and My Husband"

Pairing: Buggy the Clown (Live action) x F!Reader

Part 1 | Part 2

Summary: You were an apprentice of Gol D. Roger’s crew in your youth, long before his eventual demise. Along with the Red-Haired Shanks and Buggy, you were a formidable trio; the embodiment of a new generation of pirates yet to come. But times changed, and so did you and your friends. Years have passed since you last saw Buggy following the dispute that you thought ended your friendship. When you finally reunite with the blue-haired menace you once considered your closest friend, it’s under less than “friendly” circumstances.

Warnings: Canon typical violence, LA!Verse, Buggy is a lonely asshole, flashbacks, semi-canon divergence, Reader is strong AF,

A/N: I forgot to mention this before, but I guess this technically does hold some spoilers from the manga/anime. Keep in mind, I've not seen/read either piece, so it's merely used to give their stories some background.

Taglist: @kurinhimenezu, @carpinchootaku (If you want to be tagged for this story, just send me a message or comment :))

Fuck, fuck, fuck, where the fuck are you?

After some time of searching, Buggy finds you sitting by the docks, your feet gently swaying with the waves, almost free of any earthbound weight. He’d join you if he could, but he’s not brave enough to get too close to the waters yet.

However, he’s content enough to just watch you from a safe distance. The sky is free of clouds and the moon is full, which illuminates your shape like a bright lantern in the night.

Beautiful, that's what he thinks you are. In fact, that's what he's been thinking for a while now, not that he's ever told you that to your face. He wonders when he stopped looking at you like something more than a friend. 

Maybe it was when he caught you smiling at him after you'd successfully managed to steal a bottle of fine rum from the local bar, and you both ended up getting blackout drunk on the ship deck?

Maybe it was when he saw you win a round of arm-wrestling against one of your other crewmates, despite being significantly younger than the opponent.

Maybe it was when you beat a guy black and blue for making fun of his nose in public, with both him and Shanks cheering you on from a safe distance? 

It doesn’t matter when it was. What matters is that, for a while, he has found it difficult to take his eyes off you. Even if it’s just a peek, it usually takes him a while to force his attention on something else.

The rest of the crew are on the Oro Jackson, celebrating their recent endeavors, yet here you are, celebrating on your own. He finds it odd; you’re usually happy to participate in any celebrations with the crew, but you’ve decided to be here instead. It was your absence on deck that prompted Buggy to go looking for you.

The wind picks up and he can feel goosebumps spread across his skin like wildfire. He shivers and tugs his jacket tighter around himself, and that’s when he notices that you’re not wearing any additional clothing to stave off the cold in the night.

He finally calls out to you, a little throaty for reasons he refuses to disclose aloud. “You’re gonna get a cold like that, dumbass! You wanna get pneumonia and die or something?”

You subsequently turn around to face him, and his breath gets caught in his throat. Your sharp eyes, when caught in the moonlight, sparkle like a thousand treasures — compiled of gold, diamonds, and millions and millions of berries — holed up in two caves.

Smiling in the way that makes his pulse quicken, you proceed to wave your feet in the water. A few drops land on your arms, sparkling in the air before landing on the skin of your arms. “I don’t think so? If we get to the South Pole, maybe there’s a higher risk?”

He frowns and crosses his arms over his chest. “The North Pole is colder!”

“Ah, well,” you snicker. “In that case, then I’m not likely to get pneumonia unless we’re there.”

“You can still get cold! What are you, a moron?” 

For someone who can’t keep his eyes off you for extended periods, that doesn’t keep him from being rather crass in terms of vocabulary with you. That’s alright. You’ve never been one to appreciate honeyed words if your frequent bickering with both him and Shanks says something.

With another swing of your legs, you reestablish contact with with wooden platform and make your way over to him. That’s when he finally realises that you haven’t brought your shoes with you, but you don’t seem bothered by it. “By the way, what’re you doing here, Buggy?“

He considers telling you a simple lie that won’t clash with what he knows to be the truth. He was coincidentally going for a walk, he needed some air, he was purposefully looking for you…

“Noticed you weren’t on the ship,” he finally settles on with a hmph. “Had to make sure you hadn’t accidentally up and drowned or something. You’re a shitty swimmer,”

“Not as shitty as you,” you counter and blow him a raspberry. 

He’s about to tell you to fuck off or something when, again, he finds himself pausing. 

You’re smiling at him, so softly, and it feels so warm that the wind no longer has any effect on him. He can feel his cheeks scorch up and his heart is pounding so hard that it feels on the verge of breaking his ribs.

He hastily looks away and coughs a couple of times, trying to maintain what little dignity he has left.

“Are you alright?” You ask with faux concern. “Did you just catch pneumonia or something?”

“S-Screw you!”

You laugh, and it’s like music to his ears. Your laughs are usually raspy and hardly appropriate, but he finds that it’s the prettiest sound in the world. Your smile, your laugh, they are so warm that he hopes that you’ll never stop making them.

Out of the blue, you wrap an arm around his shoulder and begin tugging him on the path to the ship. “Come on, before they leave us behind.”

“Y-Yeah, let’s.” He doesn’t move to tug your arm away, and no power on this earth will make him.

------

Now that he's closer to the kid, Buggy realizes the stupidity of asking if he was yours. The two of you are nothing alike, but the truly defining factor lies in your eyes. Rubber Boy's eyes are too bright, too round. Whereas yours are knives ready to strike, his' are simple spoons.

He begrudgingly has to hand it to the kid; he's a fearless one. Even stretching his limbs beyond human capabilities does not diminish his spirit. Buggy doesn't know whether to applaud or reject the determination the boy has.

"I want you to think of this, like an artistic exercise," he explains. "Because pain leads to art, and art reveals truth."

He can't hear any commotion from the backrooms where he keeps you contained. Truth be told, he never expected it to keep you for long, only detain you for a limited amount of time. If he wants to both get the map and keep his life in one go, he is going to have to try and get it without necessarily ruining the kid too much.

Still, it doesn't keep him from testing the lines. He tries to pry the answers out with a needle, but no matter what he does, the kid remains infuriatingly mute. 

So, he decides to dig a little deeper.

"Now, what makes a boy want to grow up to be King of the Pirates? Who are you trying to impress?" He tilts his head with inquisitiveness. "A lost love?"

On cue, he can vaguely make out a gnarling sound coming from the back rooms. The sound of chains rattling, which he perceives as you probably moving in the enclosure. He thinks about sending someone to check on you and find out what you're up to, but he does not want the number of supporting casts to reduce.

"An absent parent?" He continues, ignoring the noises as he closes in on the boy. "Or was it someone that you worshipped? A false idol."

Try as he might, the boy fails to feign any indifference to him. A master of performance himself, Buggy knows when he's hit his target "That's it."

He yanks the dumb straw hat off his head, and the boy's protests against it further dig a nail into the coffin. "Give me back my hat!"

"I used to know a pirate that wore a hat just like this." Buggy's grip on the feeble thing drastically tightens as memories of the past resurface. "Red-Haired Shanks."

"You knew Shanks?"

"Ginger? Three scars, left eye?" Of course, how could he not know of the bastard? "We served together on a pirate crew when we were about your age. In fact," he glances at the boy from over his shoulder. "Your friend, Cross-Hairs over there, was with us at the time."

The kid blinks in confusion, clearly not aware of this little piece of information. "I knew she served with Shanks, but she never mentioned you."

In all honesty, it doesn't surprise him, yet he still perceives this as a slight against him from your side. The underlying hypocriticism in that doesn't evade his notice, but he elects not to address it. 

Buggy can feel the straws under his digits lightly crack beneath the pressure of his grip. "She did, but before then, it was the three of us. For a time, I even thought we were friends." His nail pierces a hole through the inside of the hat. "Until they betrayed me, like all the others. He wanted to keep me out of the spotlight! He wanted to keep my star from shining too brightly!"

"They wouldn't do that," Rubber Boy is quick to protest, rather vehemently too as if Buggy just insulted his entire lineage. "You don't know her, and you don't know Shanks. Don't talk about them that way."

"I bet I know her far better than you do, Rubber Boy." He smirks and raises a knowing eyebrow at the kid. "Does she still snatch specifically red apples off vendors when you're in town? Does she still tend to store her knives in her boots when she thinks no one's looking?"

The kid doesn't have to answer. His silence is all the confirmation he needs, and it makes him feel victorious in some sense. 

"Let me ask you something else, then. How'd the famous Captain of the Cross-Haired Pirates get stuck with a simple-minded nobody like you? What did you do that was so special that she decided to stick around until now?" 

The damn brat doesn't answer.

He presses on. "Apparently, she made a promise to someone, and though I have a sneaking suspicion as to whom, I don't want to jump the gun." He grasps harshly at the kid's face, no longer smiling. "You know, and if you tell me, I might be convinced to lessen the restraints."

The damn brat still doesn't fucking answer, and it vexes him greatly. Even so, if there's one thing he's learned, it's that the kid's silence can be substituted for an answer.

So, he finally asks the billion-berry question: 

"Was it Shanks?"

Rubber Boy does not answer. He doesn't fucking answer, and Buggy's patience snaps like a twig.

You would be willing to go through all of this trouble, to keep the kid safe and help him achieve his dream, just because you made a silly promise to what was once your mutual friend. You would give up your career as one of the most successful pirates in the modern age, just for that?

Just for him?

Deep down, he feels something carve at him. Carve at the boyish version of him he left behind the same day he left you. Would you have been just as loyal to him as you were to Shanks, if only he stayed?

He does not voice these thoughts aloud. Instead, he can't help but beam, because everything he's theorized up until this point has just been verified. It aches, and it hurts, and it cuts, but even so, he can only smile down at the boy.

"Stretch him until he breaks." 

------

Although you hear a commotion coming from the stage room, and despite the urge you have to just break out and be done with this all, you deliberately remain in your cage. One leg pulled up to your chin whereas the other one rests uncomfortably on the stale ground boards, you do nothing more than let your temper simmer down.

Honestly, what a mess.

You made one thing perfectly clear to Shanks the day you agreed to disband your crew and keep watch on the boy. It had not even been a week after he returned to the docks of Fooshia Village, one arm short and the boy by his side.

------

"I am not his parent. I will not be held responsible for the mistakes he makes when he decided to leave land. I will only keep him alive until I decide he can do that himself; after he's earned his first bounty. After that, I'm off."

"And what will you do after?" he had asked, genuinely curious.

You didn't answer, because you didn't know.

"Look after the lad for me, will you? Help him achieve his dream." He had taken your shoulder under his warm remaining hand and said:

"Maybe one day, you'll find your own."

------

If you'd known that Luffy's dream would one day lead you back to him, you would've been more reluctant to make that promise. At the time, you had little interest in picking up the shattered pieces of your childhood dream, yet it seems that now it has decided to search you out instead.

Or rather, he has.

Your head hurts.

This is not the time for heartfelt reunions if there ever was one. Buggy has only one goal in mind, and that is to get his hands on that damn map. Harming Luffy will serve as a means to an end in achieving that, which happens to clash with your goal. You're not Luffy's parent, you tell yourself, but you're willing to extend the promise to Shanks just this once.

And so, after some careful deliberation, you make your escape. 

You hit the metal once, and it bends significantly. Then twice, and on the third strikes, they bend and crack, finally granting you access to direct contact with the ground. It's never felt so relieving to be earthbound, and you even go as far as to tap your feet a few times to enrich that feeling.

Having most likely heard the noise, two troupe members march through the curtains to see what's going on. The first one barely has the time to register your escape before you lunge. 

You're quick to subdue them, knocking the first one out with an easy choke-hold whereas the other mysteriously ends up with half his body stuck in what remains of your previous confinement. His ass hangs out in a rather humiliating position, but the point is, he's out of the way. 

The adrenaline is the one part of piracy you've missed. The surge of energy that flows through your veins, feeling the air brush your face as you make your move, the warmth in your heart that substitutes any pain or hurt you've ever felt if only for a moment.

You relish it.

You happen to find your weapons in the room, hidden in some crates. Your knives and your pistol, are both unscathed and fully functional, but you know that you'll end up relying on your hands for this. After all, it's personal, and personal matters are handled in a personal way. 

When you're certain the two troupe members are of no concern to you, you exit the back rooms and find yourself in the opening between the audience rows shortly after. The lights have been killed and there's an ominous silence stretching in the atmosphere.

You look up at the terrified audience, and though you're almost in clear view of them, none dares stray away from the view up ahead. 

Said view in question being of Luffy halfway submerged by seawater in a tank, already struggling to keep himself afloat. 

Fuck this. Fuck him.

You don't even stop to coordinate your next move as, as you would've done under ordinary circumstances. No, the moment you spot Buggy standing there, trying to reason with the kid with the promise of belonging and having a place on his crew, you lunge for the kill.

------

All Buggy sees just as you make your move is a flash of sharp eyes that seem to glow in the dim room. There's no word upon your entrance, no sound, not a single warning at all. A shriek resonates through the air, shattering the silence that had unknowingly settled over them, and it's his own. 

The air gets knocked out of his lungs as you shove your fist straight into his stomach. Ordinarily, that specific portion of his would've just straight up dislodged itself from his body, but it doesn't this time. He remains intact, a contradiction to what you had threatened to do, and he falls back several good feet on his back like a kicked dog.

A raspy groan is all the noise he manages to get out, heaving his chest in search of the air that was stolen from him. He throws one arm to the ground and gets his upper body up. 

When he finally manages to somewhat stabilize his line of sight, all he sees as the world remains blurred around him is you standing over him with a dangerous glimmer in your eyes. One he's already familiar with.

This is not his old friend or his old flame crew member. This is Cross-Hairs, the feared captain of the vicious Cross-Haired Pirates. The one whose aim never misses, and if it does, she'll hunt her target down to the ends of the earth.

And now, he's officially become your target. No longer a passive one at that, but the only one your eyes are set on. He doesn't know if he's content or unnerved by this.

There are no palpable emotions on your face, but he can read your eyes well enough to know that you're angry. No, angry doesn't even begin to cover it; you're absolutely, positively, completely pissed. 

"What?" He forces out, still aching from the punch to his abdomen. "Going to make good on your promise? Going to finally kill me after all this time? If so, then just get on with it!"

You don't answer, and he hates it even more than he would've had you responded. A part of him wants you to kill him; wants you to show that you care enough about him to just fucking do it.

No, instead, all you give him is a glare. That same glare that's never left your face since he first laid his eyes on you. You turn your full attention to the tank and, with one simple hit, you break the glass to try and free Rubber Boy. You free him, without even a moment to hesitate, and it feels so much more painful than if you’d just ended him on the spot.

He wants to scream. Buggy wants to scream until his lungs give in. Scream at your inability to fully look at him. Scream at your apparent concern for a boy who is no more a pirate than he is a banker. 

Scream, because even after all this time, you still refuse to choose him.

[alisonwritesimagines]

Second Chance ~Logan Howlett Imagine~

Summary: Logan meets you. A variant of his dead wife.

Author’s Note: I won't lie, Hugh Jackman was hotter in the early 2000s.

Part Two

Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her

Warnings: SPOILERS FOR DEADPOOL AND WOLVERINE, mentions of character deaths, mentions of sexual innuendos

Do not repost this anywhere!

A new start for Logan was just what he needed. And thanks to the TVA, Laura was able to join him in the universe Wade was originally from. So this was a new start for the two of them. And to celebrate their success in saving the universe, Wade decided to have a pizza dinner party with all his friends so Logan and Laura can get to know them.

"We are missing one more person," Wade noticed as he looked around.

"Y/n will be coming soon. She had to deal with something first," Yukio tells him.

"Thank you, Yukio," Wade smiled at her.

"Y/n?" Logan asked Wade.

"Oh you are going to love her. Everyone does," Wade tells him. "You too Mary Puppins."

Ten minutes later, you finally showed up.

"As an apology for coming late, I made my famous brownies!" You announced as you handed the plate with the chocolate goods to Negasonic Teenage Warhead.

Logan looked over to see that the stranger who walked in felt like a walking corpse to him. His smile drained from his face as he stared at you who was greeting the people you knew.

"Y/n! I want you to meet our new friends! Logan and Laura," Wade said. It felt like a cheesy rom com slow motion turn to Logan. But he was still enchanted by your beauty.

"It's nice to meet you both," you smiled at them.

"It's nice to meet you too," Laura said as she shook your hand.

"Please excuse me," Logan said as he walked out. Your smile fell a little as you watched the man walk out. You looked back at Wade who had a confused look as well.

"I will be right back. But here. Meet Mary Puppins," Wade said as he handed the dog over to you.

Wade rushed out of the apartment to find Logan outside.

"Hey! What was that? You just ran out on one of the best people I have ever met. She is tied with Peter and Yukio," Wade tells him.

"I didn't realize you had a version of her here," Logan tells him.

"What are you talking about?" Wade asked him.

"Y/n. She was my wife in my universe," Logan explains to him.

"No shit. You were married?" Wade asked him in shock.

"She was also killed because of me."

"This one is different."

"And how's that?" Logan asked him.

"She's a really big badass here," Wade tells him.

"She was in my universe too. But I still let her and everyone down."

"This one could be different."

"I don't know."

"Why don't you come back upstairs and have pizza and get to know her?" Wade offered.

"I think I'm gonna stay out here for a bit," Logan tells him.

"Alright."

Wade headed back upstairs, leaving Logan all alone. Not fifteen minutes later, you came outside with a plate of pizza and a brownie piece and a beer.

"You are missing the pizza and my brownies which Wade was mostly eating all of them," you tell Logan as you handed the food and drink to him.

"Thanks."

"Are you okay? Did I do something?" You asked him.

"No. It's just... you look like someone and it's bringing back some memories for me," Logan tells you.

"Oh. Do you want to talk about it? If it makes you feel better, Wade has told me weirder things and more depressing things," you tell him. Logan let out a small chuckle.

"Maybe not now. I'm sorry for running out while you were introducing yourself."

"That's okay. Let's reintroduce ourselves. I'm Y/n. It's nice to meet you," you smiled at him.

"It's nice to meet you too. I'm Logan."

"Hi Logan. So, did you have to suffer with Wade alone for a couple of days too?" You asked him. Logan laughed a little.

"Yeah. I did."

"I can tell. You have a tired look on you," you laughed a little. Logan smiled softly, hearing your laugh. It was no different from his universe's you.

"You know, the party is upstairs and we are missing it," you tell him.

"That's true. Let's go," Logan said as he followed you back upstairs.

During the party, you sat next to Vanessa as you both were catching up. Logan kept looking at you whenever he could as he talked to Laura.

"You like her," Laura tells Logan loud enough for only him to hear.

"Come on kid," Logan groaned a little.

"She's pretty. And Wade talked to her about letting me stay with her and the other X-Men," Laura tells him.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Apparently she's a good teacher both education wise and powers wise," Laura tells him.

"She always was," Logan said, looking back at you. Your eyes met Logan's, making you smile at him.

"Oh he's cute. You should totally get with him when you can," Vanessa encouraged.

"You think I should?" You asked her.

"Yes! Plus he's handsome," Vanessa nudged.

"And his abs are amazing," Wade mentioned to you. You looked at Vanessa who also had the same look of interested with you.

At the end, you grabbed your bag and jacket before saying goodbye to Blind Al and Wade.

"You ready to check out the school?" You asked Laura.

"Yeah."

"Can I actually ask you something before you leave, Y/n?" Logan asked you.

"Sure. What's up?" You asked as you walked over to him.

"Would you like to go on a date with me sometime?" Logan asked you. You felt your cheeks heat up as you smiled happily.

"Yeah. I'd like that. Here's my number," you tell him as you wrote it down really quickly for him.

"Call me."

"I will."

"Alright. I'll see you soon hopefully," you tell him.

"See you soon."

"Bye, Logan," Laura waved at him before following you out.

"So, are you two just going to adopt Laura and start a family?" Wade asked him.

"Leave it."

"Just letting you know, she likes it rough in bed."

"You and her had sex?"

"Nope. But I did overhear her and Vanessa talk about what they liked in the bed one time," Wade tells him. "And trust me. She may look sweet and innocent, but she is a bit of a masochist."

[luveline]

hello might i ask for sassy badass reckless reader who is the #1 leading cause of aaron's gray hairs pls 🤞🏻 he is SO exasperated with her like he is TIRED™ but also tweaking bcs he's horrendously down bad for her he's gna throw up

Good morning. I hope you slept well, honey. Can you come to work early, say 6.10AM? I’d like to see you and talk about something in person. 

You squint at the text that’s just come through. Another follows as you’re finishing, lighting the dark of your room.

I love you. Sorry, I know you don’t like when I forget to tell you in the mornings. 

Your own response is sent without propriety. I love you too handsome. 6.10 is not gonna work.

Can you make an effort for me? he asks. 

You do your very best. 

“It’s almost seven,” Hotch says when you finally get there that morning, his frown audible and plain to see. 

You hold up the bag of sugar donuts you’d purchased from the truck on the square just outside of Quantico’s endless parking lots. “Necessary delay.” 

“Unnecessary. I asked you nicely to come early and you’re barely on time,” he grumbles. 

How adorable. You put the bag of donuts on the desk and ignore the paperwork laid out waiting for you in favour of his side of the desk. He smells like cedar, his suit sleeve starched under your hand. You lean back against the lip of his desk and pretend you hadn’t been thinking about climbing into his lap —he’s formidable and lovely and that’s the best combination for lounging about atop someone, especially when that someone is very good at pressing you backwards, and better at kissing your neck. 

He knows what you’re thinking. “You’ve woken up in a mood,” he murmurs. 

“A good one,” you promise. 

You take his coffee and steal a sip. Hotch, resigned, lays a hand on your thigh. “I have important things to talk about, you know? I thought I made that clear this morning.” 

“You made a couple of things clear.” 

“Don’t say it like that.” 

“Like what?” 

“Like I…” He tilts his head to the side. “Like I’ve been sending you dirty texts or photos.” 

“Is that an option? I don’t think I’ve subscribed to those emails.” 

“You make me out to be this salacious lark–”

“Aaron, I don’t do anything of the sort.” You can hardly hold back a laugh. “I’m sorry I implied you were sexting me, okay? I wish you had been.” He sighs a long-suffering sigh as you carry on. “But you were very formal. I’ll be sure to tell HR the same thing.” 

His hand slips between your thighs. Nowhere it shouldn’t be, just trapped between soft flesh. “Don’t tell HR anything.” 

His coffee is lukewarm and unsweetened on your tongue. Would it kill your uptight love to add just a dash of cream and sugar? Wrinkling your nose, you set aside the mug and press your mildly heated hand to his cheek. Just quickly, brushing a thumb up to the skin below his eye before you let it fall. “Tell me what you wanted me to come in early for. And, for the record, I’m sorry for not trying to get here before, just I didn’t sleep well, and my neck hurt too much to rush.” 

He looks like he wants to ignore your apology. He doesn’t ask you for much, and showing up when he’d wanted you to would’ve been the kinder thing to do —he can be annoyed as both boss or boyfriend. 

But he doesn’t have it in him. 

“Why didn’t you sleep?” he asks softly. 

“Thinking too much about my nice boyfriend.” 

“Really?” 

You slouch a little. Cover his hand where it rests between your legs. “I don’t know. It was really hot, and my mattress is getting old, probably.” 

He ushers you down for a sympathetic kiss. He’s always so sorry to hear about your minor ailments, he must like you too much. 

You attempt to crawl into his lap, curling an arm behind his head. He, disgruntled and yet far from reluctant, lets you take a seat. 

[folkloresthings]

❛ THUNDERSTRUCK ❜ ❨ charles leclerc x dcc!reader ❩

where ferarri’s golden boy is in love with america’s sweetheart and doesn’t care what anyone has to say about it.

faceclaim: reece weaver.

… based loosely off of this request and my current obsession after binging the dcc documentary

INSTAGRAM.

liked by dccheerleaders, charles_leclerc, and 837,922 others

yourusername AHH!! so so so happy to announce that i’ll be returning for another year as a dallas cowboys cheerleader 💙 it’s my favourite job in the world and i couldn’t dream of doing anything else. see you on the field!!!

view all 521,446 comments

user my fav girl after watching the doc on netflix!!!

dccheerleaders can’t wait for game day! 💙🏈📣

⤷ yourusername go cowboys!!!!

user is there going to be a season 2?

user what is mister charles leclerc doing in the likes

⤷ user america’s sweethearts/drive to survive crossover?

charles_leclerc 💙💙💙

⤷ user HELLO????

TWITTER.

INSTAGRAM.

liked by carlossainz55, franciscagomez and 890,482 others

yourusername tune in today to watch us represent texas at the annual USA formula 1 grand prix! 🏎️ what’s harder: driving cars at 120mph or the thunderstruck choreo?

view all 700,019 comments

scuderiaferrari you guys definitely win the difficulty contest

⤷ user dcc could race f1 but the drivers could never do the jump splits

user is she there w charles????

user you guys are obsessed, they’re probably not even dating

⤷ user i hope not, he suited girls like alex and charlotte so much more

landonorris me watching the pre-race performance 🤯🤯🤯

user okay i’m not a fan of her but that dancing???? holy shit she’s talented

⤷ user right??? those high kicks were fire

charles_leclerc i have, indeed, been thunderstruck

⤷ yourusername all the way to P1, i hope

liked by landonorris, lewishamilton and 1,739,183 others

charles_leclerc bring your (beautiful, talented, badass, kind, yeehaw) girlfriend to work day and she’ll become your good luck charm

view all 801,443 comments

user NOOO 💔 one win, one loss

carlossainz55 congrats bro!!! but you should’ve done the hairography on podium

⤷ user carlos knows what hairography is 😭

user he really shut you all down lmao

yourusername MY CHAMP! love you 🩷🩷🩷

⤷ user awwww they are cute you gotta admit

liked by rebeccadonaldson, lilymunihe and 1,309,433 others

yourusername swapped blue for red for a day ❤️

view all 707,375 comments

user they’re growing on me

redbullracing come visit us next time and you can wear blue 😉

⤷ scuderiaferrari she’s ours!!!!

⤷ dccheerleaders maybe we should change our uniforms to red?

user she’s so cute

⤷ user right 🥹 you could hear her cheering for charles at the podium

⤷ user you could hear her accent too 😁

charles_leclerc my southern belle ❤️❤️❤️

⤷ yourusername yeehaw 🤠

🗞️ this wasn’t exactly what the original anon asked for but i wanted to write a dcc reader for weeeeeks and the ask finally gave me the change so i tweaked some things 😁😁😁

[tender-rosiey]

maybe jelly — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: gojo getting jealous? 👁️👁️

you arrive at jujutsu high, as you prepare for your guest lecture. you’ve given these talks before, but this time, something feels a little different—satoru is acting strange.

not that he’s ever normal, but today he seems extra…dramatic.

“you’re going to kill it, babe,” satoru says, draping his arm over your shoulders as you walk toward the classroom. his blindfold hides his eyes, but you can feel the intensity of his gaze, more focused than usual.

“you okay?” you ask, glancing at him with a teasing grin. “you seem a little... off.”

“me? off? never,” he replies, lips pulling into his trademark smirk. “just making sure no one gets too cozy with my brilliant wife. gotta make sure these kids remember you’re taken.”

you roll your eyes playfully, “I think everybody and their mother know that, satoru.”

time passes by, and now, you stand at the front of the lecture hall at jujutsu high, wrapping up your talk.

the students seem genuinely engaged, and one in particular, a young sorcerer named ren, is practically bouncing with enthusiasm, asking follow-up questions.

“and how did you manage to seal that curse without any physical confrontation?” ren asks, his voice brimming with admiration and curiosity.

before you could respond, satoru appears at your side with his usual confidence, his presence instantly commanding attention, “well, she is the wife of the gojo satoru. kinda comes with the territory,” he interjects, flashing his signature grin.

you shoot him an exasperated look, “I’m pretty sure my skills had something to do with it.”

satoru leans in close, nuzzling against your cheek affectionately before pulling back slightly. “oh, of course, sweetheart. you’re amazing, but it doesn’t hurt to be married to the strongest sorcerer around, right?”

ren blinks, clearly caught off guard by the interaction.

he glances between you and satoru, his expression a mix of confusion and awe. “I wasn’t aware you were married,” he mutters, his gaze flickering between you and satoru as if trying to process this new information.

you smile and give satoru a jab into his ribs that he takes like a champ, “yeah, he likes to remind people. it’s kind of his thing.”

satoru, never one to miss an opportunity to make a grand statement, leans down and places a soft kiss on the top of your head.

his arm slips casually around your waist, “just keeping things clear. y'know, in case anyone forgets that I get the honor of calling you mine.”

ren tries to steer the conversation back to his question, “so, about the sealing technique…”

satoru cuts him off again, stepping slightly in front of you with a playful yet firm stance.

“hey, hey, let’s not bombard her with too many questions now. she’s been on her feet alllll day, talking about all the cool stuff she’s done and showing everybody just how badass she is.”

you roll your eyes but can’t suppress a small smile. stepping around him to face ren again, you continue, “ignore him. the technique I used requires focusing on—”

satoru clears his throat dramatically, pulling you back to his side and wrapping his arm around your shoulders, eyes boring into the poor boy even through his blindfold.

“you know what I think? I think my lovely wife deserves a break. maybe some alone time with her handsome, strong, and incredibly talented husband?”

you raise an eyebrow at him, your tone teasing. “handsome and humble, I see.”

satoru’s grin widens, and he leans down to whisper in your ear, “I can be both when it comes to you.”

you are about to retort back, but then you remember that ren is still here.

you turn to the boy with a smile and assure him, “anyway, ren, if you want to chat more about techniques, we can catch up later. after my husband gets over himself,” you hiss at the man who raises his hands in surrender.

ren, now visibly flustered and unsure, mumbled, “uh, I’ll… catch up with you later then. thanks for the talk!”

ren dashes out the room, slamming the door behind him. you tap your feet against the ground for a few minutes, before you elbow satoru again.

he stays standing up, chest puffed out and a big grin plastered on his face. you deadpan as you stare at your husband, “you really couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

satoru shrugs nonchalantly, still holding you close. he hums, giving you a kiss on the forehead, “what can I say? I don’t like sharing. besides, you are the wife of the strongest sorcerer; it’s important to make sure that’s clear.”

you roll your eyes, but you can’t help but smile helplessly at your husband. your fingers find their way through his hair making him instantly melt. you giggle at your puddle of a husband, “you’re so lucky I love you.”

he tilts his head slightly, his eyes softening as he looks at you. “I love you more, soooooooooooo—”

“oh my god, I get it,” you laugh as you try to push him off. he resists with a whine as he nuzzles his face into your shoulder. you yield and let the silence fill the room.

he hums softly as you both sway mindlessly.

“but y’know,” you pull back slightly, smiling up at him, “you really do like to make an impression.”

he chuckles, his eyes twinkling with a mix of pride and mischief, “just doing my part to ensure everyone knows how lucky I am and how lucky they should feel to be in the presence of my extraordinary wife.”

he intertwines your left hands together and raises them slightly, showing off the rings. the sun makes them shine quite brightly, and it makes you sigh with a smile and satoru let out a huff of laughter.

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do not copy or plagiarize

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[physalian]

How to make your writing sound less stiff part 2

Part 1

Again, just suggestions that shouldn’t have to compromise your author voice, as I sit here doing my own edits for a WIP.

1. Crutch words

Specifically when you have your narrator taking an action instead of just… writing that action. Examples:

Character wonders/imagines/thinks/realizes

Character sees/smells/feels

Now not all of these need to be cut. There’s a difference between:

Elias stops. He realizes they’re going in the wrong direction.

And

Elias takes far too long to realize that it’s not horribly dark wherever they are

Crutch words are words that don’t add anything to the sentence and the sentence can carry on with the exact same meaning even if you delete it. Thus:

Elias stops. They’re going in the wrong direction.

I need a word in the second example, whether it’s realizes, understands, or notices, unless I rework the entire sentence. The “realization” is implied by the hard cut to the next sentence in the first example.

2. Creating your own “author voice”

Unless the tone of the scene demands otherwise, my writing style is very conversational. I have a lot of sentence fragments to reflect my characters’ scatterbrained thoughts. I let them be sarcastic and sassy within the narration. I leave in instances of “just” (another crutch word) when I think it helps the sentence. Example:

…but it’s just another cave to Elias.

Deleting the “just” wouldn’t hit as hard or read as dismissive and resigned.

I may be writing in 3rd person limited, but I still let the personalities of my characters flavor everything from the syntax to metaphor choices. It’s up to you how you want to write your “voice”.

I’ll let dialogue cut off narration, like:

Not that he wouldn’t. However, “You can’t expect me to believe that.”

Sure it’s ~grammatically incorrect~ but you get more leeway in fiction. This isn’t an essay written in MLA or APA format. It’s okay to break a few rules, they’re more like guidelines anyway.

3. Metaphor, allegory, and simile

There is a time and a place to abandon this and shoot straight because oftentimes you might not realize you’re using these at all. It’s the difference between:

Blinding sunlight reflects off the window sill

And

Sunlight bounces like high-beams off the window sill

It’s up to you and what best fits the scene.

Sometimes there’s more power in not being poetic, just bluntly explicit. Situations like describing a character’s battle wounds (whatever kind of battle they might be from, whether it be war or abuse) don’t need flowery prose and if your manuscript is metaphor-heavy, suddenly dropping them in a serious situation will help with the mood and tonal shift, even if your readers can’t quite pick up on why immediately.

Whatever the case is, pick a metaphor that fits the narrator. If my narrator is comparing a shade of red to something, pick a comparison that makes sense.

Red like the clouds at sunset might make sense for a character that would appreciate sunsets. It’s romantic but not sensual, it’s warm and comforting.

Red like lipstick stains on a wine glass hints at a very different image and tone.

Metaphor can also either water down the impact of something, or make it so much worse so pay attention to what you want your reader to feel when they read it. Are you trying to shield them from the horror or dig it in deep?

4. Paragraph formatting

Nothing sticks out on a page quite like a line of narrative all by itself. Abusing this tactic will lessen its effect so save single sentence paragraphs for lines you want to hammer your audiences with. Lines like romantic revelations, or shocking twists, or characters giving up, giving in. Or just a badass line that deserves a whole paragraph to itself.

I do it all the time just like this.

Your writing style might not feature a bunch of chunky paragraphs to emphasize smaller lines of text (or if you’re writing a fic on A03, the size of the screen makes many paragraphs one line), but if yours does, slapping a zinger between two beefy paragraphs helps with immersion.

5. Polysyndeton and Asyndeton

Not gibberish! These, like single-sentence paragraphs, mix up the usual flow of the narrative that are lists of concepts with or without conjunctions.

Asyndeton: We came. We saw. We conquered. It was cold, grey, lifeless.

Polysyndeton: And the birds are out and the sun is shining and it might rain later but right now I am going to enjoy the blue sky and the puffy white clouds like cotton balls. They stand and they clap and they sing.

Both are for emphasis. Asyndeton tends to be "colder" and more blunt, because the sentence is blunt. Polysyntedon tends to be more exciting, overwhelming.

We came and we saw and we conquered.

The original is rather grim. This version is almost uplifting, like it's celebrating as opposed to taunting, depending on how you look at it.

—

All of these are highly situational, but if you’re stuck, maybe try some out and see what happens.

*italicized quotes are from ENNS, the rest I made up on the spot save for the Veni Vidi Vici.

[auroralwriting]

his little finger

spencer reid x fem!hothead!reader

part two here

spencer has you wrapped around his finger; you'd do anything he said without question. your team can't quite understand it. little do they know you and spencer have an unsaid.. thing.

warnings: reader has a hot temper? is that a warning? | words: 1k short but sweet!

You were known to have a confident personality. You never let anyone shake you, that's why the team loved you so much. You were the sole, beating heart of Aaron Hotchner's team; you never let them give up. Not only, but you were kind of a badass. You knew how to profile amazingly, and you could hold your own if an unsub got a little too rough.

Something else you were known for? A hot temper.

Okay, maybe it could go a little bad sometimes, but you truly meant well. Like that time you accidentally made a teenage boy cry. To be fair, he was a potential unsub. He actually was the unsub, so not all was a total failure.

Today was different for you. The coffee shop you frequented before work was closed due to issues with the electrical systems. That put a chip in your day. How was one to thrive without coffee? Next, you forgot your badge at home, making you late for work since you had to retrieve it to even get into the building. That put a dent in your day.

Derek was known to be a funny guy. Not the kind of funny guy you'd actually laugh at, but the kind who kind of pissed you off sometimes. Yeah, that kind. While he meant well at heart, it just royally pissed you off. You couldn't help that!

You leaned your elbows on the table, listening to the coffee pour into your cup. "Hello my little fox," Penelope greeted, her face frowning when she saw the look on yours. "What's wrong?"

"Bad day so far," You muttered. "Everything's just going wrong."

"It's only seven," Derek said as he walked in, smile on his face. "Come on, sugar. Go on and sit down at your desk. I know how you like your coffee." You thanked Derek quickly as you went to your desk. It was right next to Spencer.

Oh, Spencer. The boy who fell hard for you, who made you fall for him. Neither of you knew that, though, your crushes remaining secret still. "Y/n," Spencer frowned, "what's wrong?"

"It's alright, Spence," You forced a small, pathetic smile. "Just a bad morning."

Spencer gave you a half smile, "Positive attitudes actually give you a higher likelihood of having a better day by ten to thirty percent," Spencer rambled, "and that actually is the same for social connections, being a twenty to forty percent. You're on the right track."

You loved Spencer's rambles. They were adorable. "Thanks, Spence." You smiled.

A few minutes later, Morgan came to your desk with your coffee in hand. "For you, sugar." He grinned like the Cheshire Cat. You quickly took a generous sip.

It left your lips quicker than it entered. You spit it out into the trash can next to your dest, face turning sour at the taste. It was so bitter, so salty. "What the hell, Morgan?!" You cried out, "What is this?"

"Salt, sugar." He teased.

Your face turned hot, "How old are you, six?" His face slowly fell as you became angrier, "Genuinely, how old are you? Because last I checked, children don't have jobs."

"Hey," Derek tried to calm you down. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to actually upset you."

"Oh, of course you didn't!" You replied with sarcasm dripping from your lips. "You just don't get when people don't want you to make them feel worse!"

Derek's face fell into a frown. You didn't mean to hurt his feelings, but you couldn't stop your words. "Y/n," Spencer said firmly, "Sit down, now."

Before you could even think, you followed his command. The whole event caught Penelope, Emily, Rossi, and JJ's attention. JJ was quick to rush over, grabbing your coffee. "I'll get you the right one, it's okay." She comforted as Emily quickly lead Derek away. Rossi and Garcia decided to mind their own business, smart.

You groaned, head in your hands. Spencer was quick to kneel by you, taking your hands into his own. "Y/n," He said softly, "Take a deep breath. I know, I know." You followed his instructions, inhaling and holding it like he demonstrated, softly letting it out after. "Good job, sweetheart, do it again for me, okay?"

After a few more times, your face cooled off. You closed your eyes, sighing. "I didn't mean to hurt his feelings."

"I know, he knows, too." Spencer assured. "He knows he was out of line. You reacted the same way anyone would. It's alright."

Spencer raised his hand to your face, softly brushing your cheek with his thumb. JJ walked over, unsure if she was ruining.. something?

"Hey, I got you your coffee," She hesitantly spoke. You looked up, reaching out quickly.

"Thanks," You mumbled, taking a cautious sip. When you realized the taste was right, you took a bigger sip, sighing at the warmth flooding down your throat.

Spencer gave you a small smile, "See? It's okay now."

You nodded with a smile, thanking him softly. He went back to his desk, re-opening his report. You did the same, clicking your pen open.

"Okay, now what the hell was that?" Derek asked, the previous team members crowding around Rossi's desk.

"I felt like I was walking in on them," JJ mumbled awkwardly. "The tension was so strong I thought it was gonna slice me clean in half."

Emily smiled, "I bet they're in love or something, only love can make a person react like that. She would've bitten anyone else's head off." Everyone mumbled in agreement.

"I bet two weeks," Rossi said after a moment.

"Nah, knowing Reid, it's gotta be more like three." Derek shook his head.

Emily laughed, "I bet a week and a half. Y/n's too badass to not admit it first."

"I don't think they ever will until we do for them." Penelope sighed, knowing how stubborn both individuals were.

"I say one week, solid." JJ nodded. "I felt that tension."

Hotch's voice came out of nowhere, "Four days."

Everyone turned around, shocked. "Hotch, you sure about that?" Derek asked, a slight tease in his voice. "You know them."

"I do," He nodded, "Four days. You'll see I'm right."

[gravegoer]

Take a hint. ୨୧

sevika x oblivious!reader ♡ PART 1 [feel free to send requests, asks etc! i respond to everything :) + i defo need to make a badass reader x sevika to make up 4 this

PART 2 HERE

masterlist here

• How could you have possibly made it this far all by your lonesome in the undercity?? Almost oblivious to anyones advances, threats etc. Your last minute judgement has to have come in clutch many times.

• Having said that; obviously sevika is going to raise an eyebrow as you walk past her,

• She sat in her booth, playing a game of poker with two conspicuous-looking men (to say the least.) A cigarillo hung from her thick lips and smoke puffed out of her nose as she glanced up.

• A man follows you (cocky fella) spewing nonsense about how he so badly wanted to get to know you and how "you should come grab a drink with me, all on my tab sweetheart."

• She shook her head; this didn't snag her attention, as the man was a regular, always harassing the prettiest woman he could find at the bar. What did snag her attention was your response.

• "Oh...sure! Why not ?" You laughed, undoubtedly carefree and unaware of the man's advances. Now this THIS is what made her lips curl downward into a sneer.

• How could someone be so stupid. Seriously. What part about this guy didnt scream "creep." Were there not flashing red lights going off in your head telling you to turn the other way and make a run for it?

•Although this wasnt normally the kind of thing she bothered to pay attention to she continued to keep an eye on you as you walked toward the bar with him.

• However, the game of cards draws her attention away from the two of you. The man to her right groans at her card selection before shuffling through his.

• This was going to be another easy cash night huh. She thought, her eyes wandering back to where you sat. The man next to you now a bit too close for comfort.

• "I dont see you 'round here often missy" The man drawls, smirking at you. His fingers traced the rim of your glass slowly, barely missing your fingertips.

• "Yeah im...im not around here often.. tonight jus- " You were cut off by his hand on yours.

• "A pretty lady shouldnt be out at night all by 'er self, who knows what might snag 'er up, yeah?" His grip on yours was just a bit too tight.

• "Thats true..I was going to head home soon anyways. Thank you for your concern." You half smiled at him, now feeling the uncomfortable tension between you.

• The man took your smile as a green light to do whatever the fuck he wants and he leans in closer to your face. Before he can even bring his lips within the radius of your face the slam of metal separates you two.

• A mechanical device whirrs between you, parts clanking and activating: acting as a barrier. Your drink spills onto the floor, just narrowly missing your leg.

• You look up to see the weilder of said device glaring straight foward, not looking at either of you. Although her lips settle into a tight line; disdain etched into her (quite stunning) features. You could feel the heat of her body just inches away from yours.

• "Um...were we in your way-" You are cut off by her unexpectedly deep angry tone.

• "Lance, get the fuck out of here." She spat, now turning her head to look at him. Ah so thats his name.

• Her body was turned to face yours, her large frame mostly blocked your view from Lance, but it was pretty obvious he up and left without a word of retaliation.

• You eyed her questioningly scanning her lean (buff) frame.

• "You dont know a man thats trying to get in your pants when you see one?" She spoke firmly, turning her head to you.

• "I dont think he was.." You recalled all the events in the past five minutes and sighed internally "Mmfuck"

• Sevika took a draw of her cigar, watching you piece everything together, "So you really are stupid? I thought you were playing dumb." She scoffed.

• She couldnt lie, you were beautiful, its a shame that all the men in the bar have probably eyed you atleast once since you walked in. This thought made her lips twitch downward.

• "Bartender," Her voice booms "Get her another whiskey."

• Sevika ordering for a woman?? Absolutely unheard of. She means buisness. The bartender quickly grabs your drink offering a smile (that looked more out of fear than anything else) to Sevika.

• All the regulars know she only comes to the bar to either: A) Gamble B) Drink or C) beat someones ass. And despite her rough demeanor her actions were uncharacteristically...nice?

• "Thank you," You smiled up at her "I need to get better at that kind of thing"

• She slid into the barstool next to yours, where Lance had previously sat. "Is this your first time in the undercity? If not im suprised you havent been killed yet"

• Her question went unanswered as you watched the spread of her legs when she sat down, she has thick; definitely toned thighs. You swear you can see the muscle even with her pants on. Your eyes travel upward to look at her ever so slightly visible abs-

• "Hey, do you have nothing going on up there?" She sneered at you, now getting up from her stool. She was quickly irritated.

• "Im sorry, but you're gorgeous. Whats your name?" You ask, catching her gaze as she stood.

• She makes an incredulous expression for a second before going stone faced again "Be careful with what you say to strangers"

• Your drink arrives and she nods her head towards it before walking away, not leaving any room for you to thank her.

• Right as you're about to stare at her confident walk back to her booth a voice interrupted your thoughts, "Thats Sevika, Silcos second hand man." The bartender spoke.

• He knew you werent new, you had been coming for several years, but only casually. The only reason you stook out to him was because of you're genuine kindness when you spoke to him, not demeaning or demanding drinks.

• In return he usually warded off the men and women trying to snag you up and take you home.

• At his words you turned to look at her, but she was already staring back at you. Her gaze dark and almost hungry. You shivered at that, breaking eyecontact first.

• You didn't feel like drinking any longer, aching for the warmth of your home. You took a sip of whiskey and waved at the bartender before hopping off your stool to start towards the exit.

• You passed Sevikas booth on your way out, the men at her table eyed you and one wolf whistled loudly.

• Sevikas eye twitched as she waited for you to exit the vicinity. She made note of the bell ring when you opened and closed the door to the bar.

• She wasted absolutely no time to jump on the man who wolf whistled, grabbing him by the collar and delivering an unforgiving punch to his face with her mechanical arm.

You definitely would be meeting again.

short authors note :) this is my first fic in FOUR YEARS so be patient with me guys ... anywho.. PLEASSEE send asks im begging, i crave to write right now. Im mainly writing for sevika and female characters ! But ill do anyone. ask me about fandoms ! (im in many) and ill write for basically any ask me for part 2 !! KUDOS AND COMMENTS ARE VERY APPRECIATED

comment to be added to my taglist :)

[smutoperator]

A Horny Hostage

Lalisa Manoban (Lisa) x Male Reader

Kinkvember Chapter 1

Main kinks: kidnapping, golden shower, interracial (BWC), car sex

Word count: 3239.

New York City, United States, October 15th, 2024

What a day it has been for Lisa. Never in her wildest dreams when she started her idol career, she thought she would become a Victoria's Secret angel. She was as happy as ever.

"Come here, let's take some pictures," a photographer oriented her, bringing Lisa close to a van with its right side door open, where you took some pics of her, with her liking the best the one where she flaunts her cute ass.

"Good, let's take some more pics," you say to her after she looks at the ones captured in your camera and approves them. However, all that was just a trap to lure the (not so) innocent Thai girl into your plan.

A pair of masked dudes emerges from the side and shoves Lisa inside the van; you follow them, getting yourself on the backseat of the van while your two partners drive it away from the show. The newly crowned Victoria's Secret Angel is now just a hostage.

Lisa panics a bit; she screams for help at first, but no help is about to come. "So, let's blackmail her billionaire boyfriend into dropping some good money for the new woman we got with us," you say to your partners in crime. Despite the crowded traffic of New York City, your van quickly passes through Brooklyn, then Queens, and soon reaches the wilderness of Long Island.

Lisa is tied up, but you slowly calm her down. "We are going to free you in exchange for some favors," you tell her. "What kind of favors?" she asks. "You'll find out soon," it's all you can say for now.

You untie Lisa and start touching her body parts. Her long legs, her dark hair, and then hovers your hands around her pussy. "Careful, boy, you're looking for something that you can't handle," Lisa says to you. But you quickly shut her down. "I'm pretty sure I can handle you fairly easily; if your ugly ass boyfriend can do that and all he's got is money, I can do it too," you tell her.

"So you think you can handle this?" Lisa says, flaunting her ass for you. That arrogant brat is starting to get on your nerves. You then play with the dark wings from her outfit, which were stored inside the fan as well. "Fallen angel, I want to see you turning into a wild devil," you tell her. "If you say so, then I'll show you something," Lisa says.

"Then show me what kind of badass you are," you tell her, reaching with your hands to touch her pussy. "You have a nice pussy out there, you tell her, taking off the bottom parties of her outfit and leaving just her panties on. "Those bare legs are so sexy," you say, running your hands over them. "Take it off; I want to see you with just a bra and panties, the way I bet your boyfriend does every day," you tell Lisa, who obliges and takes the piece of fabric covering her bra.

"You really like to flaunt how much of a hottie you are since leaving idol life," you say to Lisa. "Well, if you let me, I'll do it even more," Lisa says, reaching towards your crotch and noticing your cock is already throbbing for her and ready to burst off those pants. But you slow her down, grabbing her neck and kissing her. "You're a bad bitch, aren't you?" you ask her.

"You're hot as fuck; now come suck my cock," you tell Lisa, unzipping your pants and showing off that big white cock to her. "Bet it's much bigger than your boyfriend's," you tell her. Lisa strokes it, then bends over to get a taste of your cock, allowing you to see her great ass from above as her sexy mouth gets it wet.

"Hmmmm, it tastes so good," Lisa says. "Fuck yeah, it does," you reply, letting her take the initiative and blow that pipe off while you caress her ass. You push your balls closer to her mouth, challenging her as she deepthroats you. But you quickly put a halt to her fun, pulling her top down and sucking her little tits.

"Hmmm, you like my cute little boobies," Lalisa says to you. "Yes, they are cute, but your mouth full of my cock is hotter," you say, dunking her head against your massive shaft and making her take it. "Fuck, that booty is so hot; I didn't know Asian girls could be so thicc at the bottom," you compliment her ass. "Well, it's definitely good; I bet you want to put that big fat cock in it later," she says.

"Give those fucking balls some love too," you tell Lisa, letting her lick it. But what she likes the most about sucking cock is the ability to deepthroat it, so Lisa just gets back up and takes your whole shaft in her mouth shortly after.

"Ohhhh shit, you suck my cock so good," you say to Lisa. "It's because it's so big and perfect for my little mouth," she answers as you just let her take it and give her butt a little spanking. "Now I want you to lick it like ice cream," you say to Lisa.

Lisa obliges and licks that shaft like the good whore she is. "Perfect, keep licking it and look at me when you do it," you tell her as she giggles. "Come on, show me you're a bad bitch; it's just you and me in the back seat of this car," you continue.

You pull Lisa's panties down, giving her sexy ass a few spankings. "Get them all the way down; I'll keep them as a souvernir," you say to her. "Now get on the floor and spread those legs," you give her another command.

You reach your hands and start toying with Lisa's fuckholes. Her pussy gets some fingering while your thumb goes straight into her butthole. You enjoy watching her moans just get muffled by your massive cock stretching her mouth.

"Perfect cocksucker, let me reward you for that," you say to her. "OUCH FUCK YES," Lisa screams as you start repeatedly hitting her ass hard. "Good girl," you say after, patting her head too and pushing it deeper down your shaft.

"You want that dick in your Thai pussy?" you ask Lisa. "Of course I do," she answers. "Then let's go for a ride," you say. "Bro, she is indeed the bad bitch you claimed; I'm jealous," the guy driving the van says, sliding the window down to check it a bit.

"Let's go, baby," Lisa says as she gets your cock wet with a few more suckings. You take her top off and then finally manage to grab her panties as a souvenir like you wanted, pulling it down once again and this time for good. Lisa is now butt naked as she prepares to sit her cunt on your cock.

"OHHHHH FUCKKKK," Lisa gets surprised by the size of your big white manhood in her pussy. Even her boyfriend's can't match. As a big white cock whore, she's truly having the time of her life. You make sure to use your hands to reach and push your shaft as deep as you can in her cunt. "OH MY GODDDD, UHHHHH," she moans as your tip is already reaching her cervix, the 10 inches of your massive pale pole stratching her out and bulging under Lalisa's long torso.

Lisa tries to bounce on your big cock, but her fun is short-lived. As soon as you get fully inside her, you start pumping it upwards. "UHHHH, UHHHHH," she says, getting caught off guard by your thrusts. "OH FUCK ME," she moans as you grab her butt and take full control of her body, your hips clapping fast against her cheeks as you destroy her cunt.

"UHHHHHH, UHHHHH, UHHHHH," Lisa keeps moaning as your cock attacks her pussy relentlessly, her body swinging as the car makes a sharp turn. "OHHHHHH MY GODDDD, JUST LIKE THAT, YEAHHHH," she screams with no fear of getting heard by anyone besides your crew. She clings to any support she can find in the van, as you only increase the pace of your pumps.

You thurst so hard against Lisa's Thai pussy that her pink anus is already winking. "DON'T STOP, DON'T STOP, USE ME," Lisa begs. And indeed, you won't stop, moving Lisa's body to the side and keep pumping her pussy hard, treating her like the fucktoy her boyfriend had too much respect for to use her like that, unlike you, who has none for this whore.

"FUCKKKKKK," Lisa keeps screaming, her voice cracking at all points. She probably used it more already by moaning like a bitch than in any of her performances as a soloist. "Oh, it's so good; oh, it's so fucking good; keeps using that pussy; oh my GODDDDDDD," she moans. "Uh uh, uh uh, uh uh," she moans as even her little tits are managing to bounce, given the intensity of your thrusts against her.

"OH YEAH, OH YEAH, SPANK MY ASS," Lisa says as you add extra hit to her already intense punishment, slapping her butt nonstop without losing any speed as you continue to fuck her pussy like a madman. "Come closer," you tell Lisa, who is so numb already she doesn't even notice the roof of the van, hitting her head against it.

"That's so good, so good, so good," Lisa repeats as you push her skinny body close to yours. Lisa stares at the window, the cary flying fast towards the roads of Long Island while your cock does your work in her cunt. Her spatial awareness is completely gone as her head keeps hitting the roof, and your cock hitting her cervix at all moments doesn't help.

"OHHHHHH GODDDDDDD," Lisa screams as she clings onto you, barely avoiding a hit against the glass as you keep attacking her pussy. A police helicopter flies close to your car, making you wonder if they are coming to rescue her. But you just don't care; her pussy is too good and worth getting arrested for.

You finally come to a stop, giving a little tap on Lisa's ass. "Good girl," you praise her abilities to take your white cock in such a confined space. But that's no surprise, given her flexibility acquired from years of dancing. You give her pussy a few extra pumps. "Oh my God, you fuck me so good, ah, ah, ah ah, ah," Lisa moans as your balls hit all the way up to her winking butthole.

Lisa climbs out of your cock, moving cautiously to avoid hitting the roof. She twists sideways and tells you to put your cock back in her pussy, starting a reverse cowgirl ride where the guys driving the fan will have a privileged and distracting view of her hot body bouncing on your cock.

Well, so she thought. You aren't keen on changing your ways, pumping your cock once again hard against her pussy. "OH MY GOD, PLEASE," Lisa begs, trying not to fall down as your cock pumps deep inside her. She opens her legs and moves them around, trying to get better support, but you just don't stop, grabbing her thigh and continuing to thrust like a madman. "OH MY GOD, IT'S SO GOOD," Lisa moans as your balls hit right at her clit.

You fuck Lisa so fast her head now uncontrollably hits the roof of the car. You lean her body against yours, pumping her pussy at a pearly gates position, her Thai pussy just getting used by your big white cock. "FUCKKKKK, AHHHHHH, YOUR COCK IS SO GOOD," Lisa screams, getting out of breath as you just can't stop leveling her cunt. "OH YES, OH YES, OH YES," Lisa says as your cock hits her cervix constantly, you push her up, and her head hammers the roof once again.

You pull out of Lisa and pick up one of the folded seats of the van, pushing it back up. Lisa sits on it and spreads her long legs. You dive to eat the pussy you just obliterated for long minutes, licking her wet and used-up folds. "Looks like my big cock wrecked it good," you say to her.

"And I want it to wreck it again, uhhhh, ahhhhh," she tells you, interrupting herself with moans as your licking is too good for her to resist. You don't need much to put her on the verge of orgasm, as her pussy is already throbbing after so much pounding, and soon Lisa's long legs start shaking.

"Ahhhh, ahhhhh, ahhhhh, ahhhhh, ohhh yeah, eat my pussy good" she moans as you tongue her folds. You kiss Lisa's pussy and move into thumbing her anus. "Hmmm, it's so tight, I wonder if my cock can fit in it," you say. "I guess you should try it, baby," she replies.

But first, you have to get your cock a bit slicker to slide on Lisa's sexy ass, giving a few pumps to her pussy instead as her wet folds lube up your shaft. You grab Lisa's leg and fuck her sideways, pinning her against the seat of the van. "Oh my God, oh my God, ahhhhh," Lisa moans.

You finally switch to fuck Lisa's ass, but your cock is so massive you struggle to get in at first. Lisa gasps with just your tip inside. "It's too fucking big for my tiny little ass," she moans. "Well, let's see," you reply.

You thrust your cock against Lisa's ass, her now coping with her butthole getting stretched out by fingering herself. "FUCK THAT ASS, YEAH," she moans. "God damn it, why do you have to be so big?" she asks as your cock digs deeper and deeper.

"Keep going; I need you all the way deep in my fucking ass, uh huh, uh huh," Lisa says as your cock slowly disappears inside it. You twist your fingers inside Lisa's pussy while your cock stays buried inside her asshole, making her scream even further. From time to time, you switch to her pussy to get some extra lube from her juices onto your cock.

Lisa's legs are so long the fingers in her right foot are now what's hitting the roof of the car while you keep fucking her ass. She opens her legs further, hitting the glass that separates the backseat of the van from the cabin. "DON'T STOP FUCKING MY ASS, PLEASE," she begs.

And who said you ever planned to stop? You push the pace and the depth of your cock inside her butt, rubbing your hands against Lisa's little tits as well while she moans like a good slut. You started choking her. "I love that baby, getting shocked while you fuck me in the ass; keep going," she says.

"Come here, let's try a different position, get on your knees, slut," you say to Lisa, who follows your orders, getting herself on all fours and clinging to the backseat of the van as you stay fucking her ass this time from behind. "AHHHH, AHHHHH, AHHHHH, AHHHH, OH YEAH, FUCK FUCK FUCK," she moans hard as your cock stretches her tight butthole out while your big hands reach to keep choking her.

"What the FUCK FUCK FUCK," Lisa says as you suddenly change the pace, grabbing her waist and giving her ass fast and hard poundings. "Fuck, I love stretching your tiny little ass, Lisa; your cute, sexy butt looks so good with my cock deep inside it," you say to her.

You stay grabbing Lisa's waist, not letting her get out of your grasp at any second as you fuck her ass. "YEAH FUCK THAT ASS, YEAH, OH MY GOD," she moans. You grab her arms from behind and thrust hard up her butt, using the motion of the van in your favor. "OH MY GOD, YOU'RE SO GOOD IN MY ASS," she says.

"Spread those legs wide," you command to Lisa, enjoying the way your cock just disappears inside her tight butthole. You then slide Lisa's body on the car's floor. "Wow," she says, as you get ready to get on top of her and pound her tasty ass even harder.

"Get that ass all the way up," you tell Lisa, who obliges, gaping her tight butthole as you slide inside it at a prone bone position. Lisa spreads her ass, trying to ease off the pressure of her tight hole, but it's to no avail; you just pound her relentlessly. "FUCK ME, FUCK ME, FUCK ME, OHHHHH, IT'S SO GOOOD," Lisa moans as you stretch her tight asshole hard, hitting her in the face and mounting on top of her like a raging bull, your hips clapping hard against her cheeks.

"OHHH, DON'T STOP BABY," Lisa begs as you impose on her a hard anal destruction; her body shakes with the insensity of your fucking. Your big white cock sends her to the heavens in a way her boyfriend's never could. She moans like a good whore, pleading to God. 

"Are you ready for that cum?" you ask her. "OH YEAH, BABY, I'M MORE THAN READY, OHHHHHHH," Lisa answers as you grab her waist and push your cock deeper and deeper in her ass. "Shit, Lalisa, your butthole is too tight; you're going to make me cum at any second," you say to her, clapping her cheeks hard.

"FUCK YEAH, GIVE IT TO ME, GIVE ME THAT CUM," Lisa begs. "Then come here, get that ass up," you tell her, pulling out of Lisa and jerking your cock off until your seeds coat her sexy butt. You pick your phone up and take a picture of Lisa's cum-covered ass, giving it a little taps aftwards. " "Send it to Fred," you tell her.

Lisa messages her boyfriend as you stay starting at her butt and appreciating your white sperm all over it. You enjoy looking at her body, but one of the guys on the cabin suddenly interrupts you.

"Bro, we need to pee," he tells you.

"Alright, let's find someplace," you say to him.

"We are too far from the city; we'll need to pee at those woods," he replies.

"Wait, I think I have a better plan; stop the van," you answer him.

You slide the van's door open and bring a completely naked Lisa to the outside. It's freezing cold out there, but your cock is still throbbing. "Guys, I think I found the perfect place for us to pee," you tell them.

The three big white cocks start bursting hot piss all over Lisa's sexy body. To their surprise, she fully embraces it, opening her mouth when the pee gets close to it and loving the way you guys turn her into a walking urinal and cover her entire body full of that dirty liquid.

"Wow, that's so hot," Lisa says after you three finish pissing on her.

"Glad you liked," you say to her.

"Bro, looks like Fred paid the rescue money; should we just leave her there and tell him the location?" one dude asks.

You look at an abandoned cabin hidden in the woods and sense Lisa is still horny and wants more.

"I think we can wait until dawn; let's fuck that bitch airtight at the cabin first," you say.

"Done deal."

[lowkeyrobin]

Hawk x sensitive!reader where even after he becomes all "tough" and "badass" he's still gentle with reader. I just need fluff and everything is so sickly sweet like I want my teeth to rot.

- ♠️

(again i forgot which one it was)

YES OMG ☹️☹️☹️☹️ ; I'm screaming and crying were gonna fight wtf ; thank u for requesting some cobra kai stuff love u bae ; also sorry ab this cause I had no idea what to do here

HAWK MOSKOWITZ ; the one i love

summary ; while hawk is off becoming mean and badass, he's still nice to you, knowing you're kind of sensitive, and he doesn't want to lose his s/o

warnings ; language, talk of physical violence

track ; dedicated to the one i love, the mamas & the papas

word count ; 849

masterlist

Eli, these past few months, had changed. A lot. You didn't know whether you liked it or not either. He wasn't even Eli anymore, he was Hawk.

He'd taken on karate, got a new haircut, and completely changed his demeanor and personality. You couldn't lie, he looked cool, especially while showing off his moves, but what wasn't cool was him getting into unnecessary drama.

You'd seen some things online, though you tend not to stick around for any of it. You were caught up by Eli himself, considering you did online school. The bullying from Sam LaRusso and her friends had gotten too bad long ago, forcing you to hide away for the rest of your high school career.

You considered this transition good for Eli, as he was turning a new page in his story. He was able to defend himself, he was confident, and he wasn't being bullied anymore. But, at the same time, he was unrecognizable.

It wasn't in a bad way, not yet, at least. But this "Hawk" guy, wasn't your boyfriend, Eli. You fell into the arms of Eli Moskowitz, not Hawk.

Thankfully, he knew how to retain his relationship. Thank God his standards didn't raise, nor did his ego, as he changed.

You were slightly sensitive, you'd say, kind of emotional, mentally thin, maybe.

You had a bad day, though. That's all that mattered in this second.

You were trying to deep clean your room because it was nasty, and you were already mad. Nothing was working how you wanted it to. Your grades were dropping because you were becoming depressed and unmotivated, and you just wanted to see your boyfriend again. But of course, he'd been busy with karate and working out.

You yell out of pure frustration as you throw a pillow across the room toward your door before crashing onto your bed.

"Ow"

You quickly look up to see Eli standing in your doorway, having been hit by that pillow.

"Fuck, sorry" You mumble, proceeding to hide your face in another pillow that lays on your bed.

He slowly and cautiously steps in your room, picking up the thrown cushion. "What's wrong?"

"...Bad day"

He frowns, "What's wrong?"

You look up at him, spiky hair immediately catching your attention. "Can you wash out the gel before talking to me? You're intimidating looking like a badass"

He chuckles with a nod, "Yeah, I'll be right back"

You couldn't stand the mohawk. It intimidated you, like you were gonna be the next victim of his karate moves. He understood as you'd been honest about it long ago, and would often wash out his hair in the sink and use a towel to then dry his hair.

Now, his roots were dark brown, while the midsection to ends were bright blue. You'd helped him dye it, the reasoning why the bathroom sink was just barely stained with blue in the bowl.

He re-enters the room, his hair now damp, but un-styled. He sits on the bed beside you, allowing you to sit in silence with a pillow pressed against your face.

You slowly pull it away, looking up at him. You flop your back onto your mattress, staring at the ceiling.

"What's up?" He asks, his eyes gazing upon your tired and stressed expression.

You shrug, sitting up. "I hate online school, I have essentially no friends or hobbies, my proctors are shoving thirty assignments on me while I'm depressed and I need to do a million fucking other things-"

He quickly pulls you into a hug, silencing you. You accept his hug, arms draped around his shoulders as you rest your head on one of his shoulders. He does the same for you, his arms slung around your torso instead.

You groan, hiding your face from the light.

He lightly rubs your back, just trying to show you some comfort.

He speaks up after a solid minute of silence, letting you calm yourself down. "Do you want to get into karate? Or at least meet my friends? A lot of them would really like to meet you"

You shrug, unsure.

"It's okay if you don't want to"

You shrug again, your words mumbled from between his shoulder. "What if they don't like me cause I'm not like them?"

He smiles, a light chuckle escaping his lips. "Trust me, they're not gonna make fun of you or not like you in any way unless you give them a reason. And that in itself is pretty much impossible"

You nod, "Thanks"

"Is there any way I can help with your school stuff? What needs done? What can I do for you?"

"Calm down, Eli. I'll be fine. It's just when there's a lot on my mind, I stress out for no reason I guess. Like, I know everything'll be okay but... I dunno" You shrug, pulling away from his arms. "But thank you"

He nods, laying down on the bed beside you. "You tired? I am"

You nod with a smile, pulling him close to cuddle with him.

"Agh- your grip is insane!"

"Sorry"

[clandestineloki]

strawberry bliss (nsfw)

the part 2 to strawberry sweet ❤️

summary: miguel loves using his strength on you ;)) and this little snippet of you guys watching a replay of his recent game shows just that, with some sweet lil fluff and playful banter :)) and then miguel fucks u so good he hits your factory reset and you go back to being a lil shy babie around him oh no :3

tw: he also finds out you have a daddy kink, mention of shane dawson (derogatory), mention of physical violence (bros a wrestler what did you expect), overstimulation, a bit of breeding kink, heavy praise kink, a bit of humiliation but on the sweet side

A/N: this takes place about a year or so after strawberry sweet, where miguel and reader are in an established relationship and make quippy cute banter with each other

A/N # 2: pls reblog so we can turn more ppl into whores 💖

💕 hope you enjoy! 

===

"BABYY THE COMMERCIALS ARE OVER!"

Miguel runs from the bathroom and meets you in the kitchen, you with the tray of strawberry drinks squealing as he tickles your waist.

"AHH IT'S GONNA SPILL!!!" you scream, and he backs off, smiling as you regain your balance.

You balance the smoothie cups on the tray and move forward, but Miguel blocks your way. 

"M'scuse me, I have a game to watch," you pout up at him, but he doesn't budge.

"Mister, my boyfriend will be very angry if he finds out I'm late to the game >:( "

"Aww, such a shame, pretty girl... can't I just get a little kiss?"

"Let me through!"

"Can't, hermosa, you gotta say the password right up against my lips~ the password is mwah mwah mwah i love you miguel you're so handsome miguel~"

"You're cheesy," you roll your eyes, and he laughs as you set the tray down in front of the bed facing the TV. "I want the old Miguel back, he was cute and he had actual rizz."

He slumps against the couch. "The Miguel that was a total pervert over your old smoothie girl uniform?"

"Oh my gosh, I totally forgot about the uniform!" You giggle. "I hated it. Did you know on my first day they gave me a size too small and they had the audacity to try and gaslight me by saying I got fat?"

"Fucking weirdos," he pulled you into his arms, your back against his chest." Glad I got you out of that mess, mm?"

"It was just one mess into another, Mig, you made me your sugar baby," you tease, and his face scrunches up.

"Bebita, I may be rich but I'm not your sugar daddy. I'm just two years older than you."

"But think about it, I was sixteen when you were eighteen! Like- that's two years but the maturity difference is huge! That's creepy, Miguel. You wanna go to jail?"

"Ay, por dios. We're in our twenties, we met in our twenties. End of discussion. And I've already been to jail. Twice."

"What?!"

"Ay! ay! end of discussion. The match is starting," he pinches your nose then turns to watch the TV just as the host's opening spiel ends. Miguel feels you sit up in his grip when the crowds on the TV cheer as he comes up on screen, flashing a grin to the audience.

"Ew, who's that?" you mumble, cheeks stuffed with popcorn and Miguel snorts, rolling his eyes.

"That's me, your boyfriend, the guy who's gonna absolutely obliterate downgraded Shane Dawson in about..." he snaps his fingers just as his opponent comes out on screen. "Fifty-eight seconds."

"I really don't see the resemblance, Miggy, you're just being a bully."

"Y'know," he pulls you closer, absentmindedly kissing your neck as he feels you squirm in his hold. "I don't get how you let the physical violence slide but I compare some white guy to Shane Dawson and you call me a bully."

Your face heats up a little, and you turn away, mumbling shyly. "C-cause you look really badass when you throw them around like that... "

"Mmm?" he teases, nuzzling his nose in your neck. "I do?"

He feels you freeze up and chuckles, his hands trailing down to your thighs.

"Y-yeah," you whisper... "a bit..."

"Oh, and you like how strong I am, hmm? Is that what it is?"

It's cute how you shake your head and brush his hands away to turn up the volume on the TV, when he just goes right back to kneading your breasts and riling you up.

"Querida, you gotta answer me, y'know I can't understand you when you mumble like that~"

"What was the question?" you mumble, looking up at him with what he knows for sure are the most adorable bunny eyes he's ever fucking seen.

"I said," he nibbles down on your ear with a little growl, "do you get off like a cute little bunny when I show off? Is my baby that kinky~?"

" I-I... maybe..." you twitch as his fingers toy with your nipples. "Miggy, please..."

"Please what baby? Please stop or please give me more?" 

Miguel knows the answer, obviously. It's just that he can't get over the fact that he landed the prettiest girl with the cutest stutter when she's nervous.

"Please..." you whisper.

He chuckles against your ear, leaning in and lowering his voice just the way he knows you like it, especially when he's buried all the way inside you.

"Please what."

The tiniest gasp comes out of your lips. "Please... please f-fuck me... please?" 

Before you can even finish, you're over his shoulder and on the bed as he kisses everywhere on your face, growling at the inconvenience of the fact that he cant hold you still and fondle your chest at the same time.

"M-Miguel..." you whimper, twitching in sensitivity. "You're always teasing me..."

"Oh?" he mocks you, flipping you over on your stomach and gripping your hips, leaning in real slow to drawl darkly in your ear. "I'm the tease here? When you're shaking your little ass all over me? You rile me up like this and expect me not to fuck you the way you deserve? hmm?"

"S-Sorry..." you mumble, and Miguel laughs breathily, having the time of his life making you all shy and embarrassed.

"S'okay, baby, you just gotta make up for it, yeah?"

With a playful swat to your ass, he rips off your shorts and his fingers tease your folds through your panties.

"Miguel..."

"Yes...?" he kisses the arch in your back, smirking when your thighs tremble.

"Please hurry..." you gasp.

"Don't worry baby, you'll be asking me to slow down real soon~" 

===

His favorite sight of all time is you underneath him, with that blissed out look on your face and your chest heaving as he fucks every choked breath out of those pretty lips.

"Fuck, bebita," he whispers. "Creaming all over my fingers like the cute little plaything you are?"

You whimper, closing your thighs shakily, but his free hand just forces your legs apart and he curls his two fingers in you, tickling your pussy and making his hand even wetter.

"Hmm? What did you say?" Miguel mumbles close to your ear, and makes sure that at the precise moment you try to speak he speeds up his fingers, making your words melt away in warm red pleasure as more juices coat his fingers.

"S'too much..."

"Bebita, you asked for this," he whispers darkly. "We're not even halfway done."

You mewl out his name and turn your head to the side. He takes it as an opportunity to bite down on your neck and relish in the high-pitched pleasure drunk squeal that forces out of you as your little pussy sucks in his fingers.

"Shit. I can't take it anymore," he grumbles, his fingers moving even faster as he leans closer, forcing you flat against the bedsheets as you moan and cream all over his fingers like a cute little bunny, just too pleasure-drunk to utter even a word.

"Come for me baby," Miguel almost begs. "Come for me so I can fuck you the way I know you want me too, okay?"

You gasp at his dirty talk, and he laughs at the fact that you never stop getting shy when he says these things.

Or when your little pussy makes those wet noises when you're really really close.

"Fuck you're so cute," Miguel grins, licking the tears falling from your hazy eyes. "So sweet, letting me do whatever I want with you~ Come for me, gatita, you know you want to~"

Your moans make him grin and he thumbs at your sensitive little bud. His teasing sends you over the edge and you gasp and whimper, clinging onto him as he helps you through your third orgasm.

When you come down from it, Miguel is smirking down at you, and licking his fingers clean of your juices, humming lowly as his tongue traces his long fingers sensually.

"Wanna taste it right off your pretty pussy baby," he whispers, making you blush. "But I'll save that for later~"

He really means he'll save it for when you're too fucked out to close your pretty legs around his head.

Miguel kisses your hips as he flips you over again, tracing his rough hands over your ass and thighs, making you shiver and mumble something he almost can't hear.

"Daddy..."

His wandering hands freeze.

He grins.

"What was that?" he teases.

Your breath stutters.

"What- I-"

He leans in dangerously close, pinning you down on the bed with your ass right against his throbbing hard cock.

"What did you just call me?" he drawls, and you whimper.

"I-I called you Daddy," you bury your head in the pillows. "S-Sorry... if it makes you uncomfortable-"

Miguel thrusts his hips forward, sinking halfway into your wet, warm little cunt. The squelching of your little hole is nothing compared to the pure, unadulterated, sinful noise of pleasure that leaves your lips.

"Oh," Miguel groans. "That made me reallyfuckin' uncomfortable alright."

Your thighs shake as he sinks in really really slowly, making sure you feel every inch of him stretch you out.

"Say it again."

You gasp, tears forming in your eyes. "It's embarrassing..."

"Fuck, you really have to do all these things that make you so lovable, huh?" He groans, pulling your wrists and holding your arms behind your back. "Got the cutest little face, the cutest little pussy, and you always got these little kinks that make you so cute~"

He starts moving his hips, making you slur out his name and clench around him.

"My cute little milkshake girl, doing all these cute things for me and no one else," he whispers, and you nod helplessly,

Miguel runs his hands up and down your waist, making you sigh and whimper into the pillows.

"Wanna repeat what you said? No one's around, baby, just you and me. No need to be shy~"

"Daddy..."

"Fuck, you really are such the perfect little cutie, aren't you?" Miguel teases, pounding you harder.

It's music to his ears when you finally get to that stage of it, just uncontrollably whimpering and moaning and making all these noises of pleasure as you let him do whatever he wants to you.

"C'mon, say it again, another time won't hurt~"

"Such a t-tease..." you whine, and he chuckles fondly, pressing a kiss to your sensitive neck.

"Sorry, baby, not my fault you're so fucking adorable," he groans, shuddering when you clench down on him. "Daddy's close, baby, wanna come with me? Feel good together, hmm? Can you even understand me you dumb little baby?"

Miguel coos as you take in high-pitched breaths and gasps. Your tiny fists clench the sheets shakily, and your thighs thump helplessly with every thrust of his hips.

"Come back to me, baby," he whispers as his thrusts get sloppier. "Help me out one list time, kay? Wanna be my good girl?"

"Mhm..."

"Ah," he laughs. "Daddy broke his pretty baby so bad? Sorry, gatita, you just feel too good. Let's come together, okay? I'll get us there, baby~"

You whimper loudly one last time, creaming helplessly around his cock. Miguel pins your back down onto the bed, leaning in and growling right against your ear as his orgasm takes over as well, making sure you take every bit of his cum inside you.

The twitching of your thighs finally slows as Miguel pulls out, turning you onto your back and lightly running his hands up your thighs, waist, and breasts, kneading them softly and eliciting a whine from your lips.

"So sensitive," he pinches your nipple, making you gasp. "But I'll keep my hands to myself... for now."

You blush at those words, nuzzling into his neck as he chuckles at your bashfulness.

"Didn't know my good little girl had a Daddy kink. So cute," he whispers. "Got the sweetest little baby all to myself~."

Miguel brushes his lips against yours, smiling when he tastes a hint of strawberry,

His second favorite sweet thing in the goddamn world.

"Oh, baby~" he coos. "You felt so fucking good. Can we go again, gatita?"

You whimper, twitching helplessly, and blushing at the feeling of his fingers toying with the cum trickling down your thighs.

But you don't say no.

[swarvey]

how they would propose | sdv bachelors x g/n!reader | part one

-> summary: in game, the farmer is always the one to present the mermaid's pendant to their lover — what if it was the other way around?

pt. 2

a/n: starting with half the boys, i'll be working on the rest of them + bachelorettes after ! i got a bit carried away with elliott's ... but can you blame me?

alex

carries the pendant around in his pocket for a week, hoping the right words will magically find him if he does

(they don't)

definitely the type to lock himself in the bathroom and stare at himself through the mirror while practicing what to say to you

decides to propose during a quiet walk in the evening so he has your full attention and all the time in the world to profess his love to you

alex swears his heart is about to fly out of his chest as the two of you walk hand in hand around pelican town, the sun long gone below the horizon. the street lamps guide the two of you, fireflies intermittently emitting gentle flashes of light.

he doesn't even realize you're expecting a response from him until you wave a hand in front of his face, moving in front of him so he's forced to look into your amused gaze.

"alex," you laugh, and his breath hitches, "are you listening? you look like you've been zoning out."

he musters an empty laugh back at you, internally panicking as he desperately tries to recall what you said. "what? me? no, i was just, uh . . ." think, alex, think! you can't mess up now! "i was thinking about gridball." he wants to smack himself.

"really?" you reply, raising your brows. "you're thinking about gridball, now? while i was talking to you about our anniversary coming up?"

shit.

his face pales, stopping in his tracks in the middle of the bridge near the museum. he groans, dropping your hand to run it through his hair — surely he can fix this, right?

"okay, cut the act," you say, worry beginning to show in your features. "is everything alright? what's bugging you?"

"nothing, really! it's just that, uh . . ." alex inhales a quick breath to prepare himself before grabbing both your hands in his. "you know i love you, right?"

"yes . . .," you trail off. you look at him with concerned eyes, beginning to look uneasy. "now i'm really worried—"

"no, no! just hear me out, alright?" you nod. "you know, before you moved here, my view on life was pretty boring," he admits. "all i really cared about was gridball and my grandparents. and dusty, of course, and i guess sam and haley, too—" he shakes his head, blush beginning to cover his cheeks. "whatever, you get what i'm trying to say, right?"

"i'm not entirely sure if i follow," you reply, smiling at how flustered he's gotten. "what are you getting at, alex?"

he sighs. "listen, you moving here was the best thing that ever happened to me. you've shown me there's tons more to life than whatever i was doing before, like giving random gifts to everyone in town just to make them happy, or being a badass and fighting off monsters!" you laugh, and he grins. "anyways, now that i've had a taste of what being with you is like, i don't think i'm willing to share."

your jaw drops as he reaches into his pocket and gets on one knee, opening his palm to reveal a mermaid's pendant.

"will you marry me, y/n? so i can spend the rest of my life learning more awesome stuff from you?"

he nearly collapses in relief when you nod, whooping in joy before engulfing you in a tight hug. after a few moments, he can't help but kiss you strongly, a hand cradling the back of your head with the other on the small of your back. you smile into the kiss, pulling away only to look into his teary, overjoyed eyes.

"aren't you forgetting something?" you tease, glancing down at the pendant that's still clutched in his hand.

"oh, right!" you bend your head forward as he places it around your neck, beaming at the sight.

you hold the jewel in your hand, adrenaline pumping through your blood. "looks like we'll have to plan a wedding," you say, happily pecking alex's cheek.

"yes, this is so great!" he exclaims as he jumps in excitement, unable to control himself. "alright, first, we gotta figure out where we're going to cater food from, but i know grams will want to bake our cake," he rambles, grabbing your hand as he practically starts to drag you home. "oooh, and we should totally ask sam and his band to play something for us! he knows all the songs we like, anyway. i think all the guys will help me get all dressed up, but i bet haley and the rest of the girls would go crazy over helping you pick out what to wear, they probably know better anyway—"

"alex," you interrupt, laughing at his antics, "relax. we'll figure all this out tomorrow. let's just go home." he nods.

"you're right, honey," he agrees, swinging your intertwined hands playfully. "i'm going to need all the rest i can get if i'm gonna spend all of tomorrow bragging about my engagement."

shane

leaves the pendant in his nightstand drawer and looks at it every night before he goes to sleep for nearly a month

he truly never thought he would get married — who would want to marry him, the town drunk?

regardless, the past year with you has proven otherwise, and he knows now there's no one else he wants by his side

he decides to do it quite impulsively one day, literally grabbing it from his drawer and walking to your farm

(marnie nearly faints in excitement when she sees him walk out with the mermaid's pendant in hand, while jas cheers him on)

shane starts to get nervous when he doesn't see you anywhere on the farm, making sure to double-check all the chicken coops and barns before heading toward your house. your pet runs up to him, sniffing the hand wrapped around the pendant curiously.

"got any advice?" he asks jokingly, though he doesn't receive an answer — just a tilted head and wide eyes. "guess this one's on me," he sighs, looking at the jewelry nervously.

"shane? is that you?"

shane nearly drops it as he quickly shoves his hands into his pockets, watching as you step out from your greenhouse. of course, he thinks, the one place i didn't check.

"what are you doing here?" you ask, smiling at his sudden appearance. you're wearing dirt-covered gloves and your hair is touseled and frizzy; shane thinks you're glowing. "dinner's not til later, isn't it? or else i'll need a little time to get ready."

"no, i thought i would stop by a little early," he says. "i had something i wanted to talk to you about, actually." you nod, taking off your gloves and putting them in your bag.

"of course, what's up?" you ask, looking at him with those damn eyes that he could never resist.

"we should get married," he states bluntly, excitement sending chills down his body.

he wants to kick himself as you stare at him, blinking twice before saying, "y-yeah, i guess we should."

he nods, swallowing. "it makes sense, y'know?" he reasons, suddenly avoiding your eyes. "we've been with each other for a while now, and things have been going pretty good." he pauses. "you've gotten me through a lot, you know that? i mean, before you got here, i didn't think anyone in this town gave a damn about me — but you obviously do, for whatever reason, so i'll spend the rest of my life trying my best to be the guy you see me as."

he takes the mermaid's pendant out from his pocket, sheepishly looking at you as he holds it. his eyes are watering with emotion, and by the looks of it, so are yours.

"so, what do you say, honey?" he asks softly. "will you marry me?"

"yes," you reply, smiling as he puts the necklace on you. he laughs in disbelief when he sees you wearing it, still in shock that this is his reality. you roll your eyes, pulling him in for a deep kiss. you cry out in surprise as he hugs you strongly and even lifts you off the ground slightly, his eyes brighter than you've ever seen them.

"i can hardly believe this is real," he sighs, pulling you into his side. "guess i did one thing right in my lifetime."

you slap his arm, resting your head on his shoulder and closing your eyes. "you definitely didn't plan this out, did you?"

"huh? what makes you think that?"

"you couldn't even wait until dinner to ask?" you joke. "i guess it wasn't really a question, either—" you laugh as he pokes your side to cut you off.

"don't forget, you're the one who said yes," he retorts, smiling nonetheless. "you're officially stuck with me."

elliott

oh, he's had the mermaid's pendant for months. pretty much since you two got together

he tried to keep it a secret, he really did, but by the time he actually decides to propose, the rest of the bachelors and bachelorettes know

still, he wants the proposal to be for you and you only, so he plans on asking you during an evening picnic dinner on the beach

that doesn't stop him from asking his friends for some help, though

"is this really necessary?" sebastian questions, placing a candle into the sand and creating a pathway to the picnic blanket near the water.

"i think it's romantic," leah sighs, handing him another candle from the box in her arms. "he's been planning and buying all this stuff for weeks now. plus, candlelight always makes things more magical."

"i'm sure the moon will be bright enough tonight to add some 'magic.'"

"the light itself is not our concern, my friend," elliott says, wrapping an arm around seb — who scowls at the contact, but decides to let him get away with it just this once — and waving his arm to show off their setup. "i need this beach to represent a scene of pure love and endearment tonight, for my beloved deserves no less than a proposal for the century!"

"right," seb monotones. "well, the candles are all set up, so i'm heading to the shade."

"you want the speakers over here, el?" sam calls out, holding up one of his wireless speakers at the entrance of the beach.

"i've got one over here, too!" abigail yells from behind the cabin.

"perfect!" elliott replies, grinning as the setting he's been picturing finally comes together. he waves goodbye as everyone begins to head home, turning to the only part of his plan left untouched — the picnic blanket. i suppose the rest is up to me.

-

"are you ready, my dear?"

"elliott, i've been ready for the past twenty minutes," you say, playfully smacking the hands covering your eyes. "can i look now?" he laughs before finally lowering his arms, watching lovingly as your eyes widen at the setting in front of you.

"shall we?" he asks, holding his arm out. you gladly hold on to him as the two of you make your way down the beach, in awe at the candles lighting your way.

"i must be dreaming," you say, shaking your head. "how did you—? wait, where's the music coming from?" you realize soft acoustic music is playing throughout the beach, feeling as if you're in a movie scene.

"ah, that? i asked sam and abigail if i could borrow their speakers," elliott explains proudly. "i also recruited leah and sebastian to help me create this enchanting path."

you laugh. "let me guess, you asked alex and haley to distract me and bring me to the library?" your jaw dropped. "no, and you asked maru and penny to get lunch with me? all so i wouldn't come to find you?"

"i had a feeling my darling would venture to my whereabouts, so i requested the help of our colleagues to keep you away. though i'm sure it was difficult for you, i wanted this to be a surprise," he admits, smiling at you. "do you . . . like it?" he asks quietly, a bit scared he had done too much.

"elliott, this is more than anything i could have asked for," you say, warmth coating your words. "what's the occasion?"

he sighs in relief before replying, "have i ever needed a measly excuse to spoil you, dear?"

"i suppose not," you agree amusedly, recalling all the times you've returned home to a bouquet sitting on your porch.

finally, the two of you reach the end of the path, sitting together on the blanket. a big basket covered with a cloth sits at the center of it, as well as two plates, utensils, and your favorite food.

you shake your head. "this is ridiculous," you state, looking at elliott with big eyes. "how long have you been planning this?"

he hums in thought as he plates your food, pushing it towards you. "that, my dear, is none of your concern," he says, "though, i will say it took quite a bit of strategy. and money," he jokingly adds.

after the two of you eat, elliott hands the basket over to you, trying his very best to contain himself.

"i thought it'd be fitting to get you some gifts," he states, as you begin to uncover its contents one by one.

inside, you find a framed version of your favorite photo with him, a hand-painted mug, a poem, and—

you gasp. "are those rubies?" you ask, a couple red stones glittering at the top of the basket. you pick them up, realizing they're matching keychains.

"courtesy of emily," elliott explains. he hesitates, breathing out lightly before continuing. "rubies signify love and passion, you know, as well as good luck and prosperity."

you laugh lightly, holding up the keychains to the moonlight to see them shine. "perfect, should work wonders for us and the farm—"

"they also symbolize weddings."

you blink, gently setting down the gems as you look at him. he holds out the mermaid's pendant he has been patiently keeping for you, eyes already shining with tears as you gasp.

"y/n, the time we have spent together has been by far the best of my entire life," he starts, "and when i look to the future, i'm afraid i cannot picture one without you walking by my side. you are, and always will be, the love of my life, my shining light, my fairy book tale. you, my love, are my happy ending.

"so, will you do me the honors and marry me?"

you jump into his arms as soon as he finishes speaking, both of you laughing as he happily holds you.

"yes, elliott, of course!" you exclaim. he grins as he holds your face in his hands, covering your face in kisses before finally landing on your lips. your hands run through his hair before you fall backward, elliott landing on top of you with his hand cradling your head. you peck his nose, and he laughs once more before helping you sit up.

"here, let us celebrate with some wine!" he decides, grabbing two bottles he had left in the corner. "shane and harvey said these were the best the winery had to offer."

"you really got the whole town in on this, huh?" you tease, barely containing yourself as he helps you put on the jewelry.

he rubs the back of his head, slightly embarrassed. "well, it began with leah, and i thought it wouldn't hurt to tell harvey, but then of course i had to tell—" he stops himself. "secrecy has never been one of my strong suits, has it, love?"

you shake your head, leaning into his arm as you listen to the sound of the music mixing with the crashing of the waves.

"don't worry," you reassure, and he looks down at you with nothing but love in his gaze. "you have plenty of other traits to make up for it."

[luveline]

I would love to see more of badass reader x Spencer, but maybe reader gets hurt on a case (like a concussion or something) and only wants Spencer and we get to see more of reader’s soft spot for Spencer. Idk if that made sense or if that’s anything you’d be interested in writing. Love reading whatever you write!💕

thank you for your request and for reading babe!! —your singular soft spot for spencer rises to the surface when you get hurt in the field. fem!reader, 1.1k

Emily's foot tap tap taps hospital linoleum. The nurses are getting worried about you —your CAT scans are fine, but you're lethargic. Mildly concussed with moderate symptoms, you winced at the lights, told Emily to turn them off, and haven't said much since. 

She frowns. It's not nice to see someone who's usually so closed-off openly pained. "You okay?" she asks. 

"I wanna see Spence," you murmur. 

Emily nods slowly. She's had this conversation with you already. You have a spot of amnesia, nothing to worry about, decidedly temporary. 

"Why hasn't he come to see me?" you ask. Your voice trips and tumbles, your eyes glowing with a glassy sheen. "I thought he'd come to… make sure I was okay. But he doesn't want to see me." 

"Spencer's on the way here. He was an hour away with Hotch, remember? They're on their way." 

You twitch like a displeased cat under your sheets and turn away from her, sniffling weakly. Your shoulders heave with slow tears. Emily gets up to rub your back but thinks better of it when you stiffen. She doesn't understand how you function, doesn't know what it is about Spencer alone that you can be vulnerable with him and not the others, but she won't judge you for it. She just wishes there was more she could do. 

It's an untold amount of time between your tears and Spencer's awaited arrival. You're worse than lethargic, depressed, hand lax behind your back and unresponsive to the sound of the door. 

"She's asleep?" he mouths. His hair is limp either side of his face, flattened by anxious hands. 

"Upset," she mouths back through a frown, drawing a tear down her cheek with her pinky finger. 

He doesn't give Emily a second glance after that. 

"Hey," he says softly, rounding your hospital bed, touching the tips of his fingers to your hip and drawing a gentle line up your side. His head dips down, bending at the waist to see you better in the dim lighting. "Hey, what's wrong?"

You make a small keening sound from the back of your throat. It's so cleaving that Emily wants to leave, so painful that she wants to stay. You're her friend too. Emily cares about you, even when it hurts to do so.

"I don't feel like me," you say. 

Spencer doesn't shy away either. His expression is open, reassuring as he pops into a semi squat that can't be comfortable. His hand closes around your arm, thumb feeling the naked skin there sweetly. "It's normal to feel confused after a head injury. I promise it won't last." 

"I don't feel well," you say, small, like a scared kid. 

"I know." 

You reach for him. Emily knows Derek would never believe it, your hands stretched out almost desperately, the pleading noise yanked from between teeth normally gritted. Spencer wraps long arms around you with the ease of someone who's done it before, maybe exactly like this. 

"It's okay," he says. He's speaking with pep he doesn't feel. Emily can see he's stressed in the high pinch of his shoulders, but he's putting on a show for you. "You don't have to be scared. It's okay." 

The perpetual line carved between Hotch's brows seems deeper as he enters the room. Neither of you look up, your back loosening under the lazy back and forth of Spencer's hand. 

"Concerning, right?" Emily asks. 

Hotch ignores her, but not for lack of agreement. "What do her observations say?" 

"Mild to moderate head injury, post-concussion amnesia, fractured index and middle finger on her left hand." 

"Where are her clothes?" he asks. 

"They can't check her out until she gets her fingers cast and all she brought in her go bag was slacks." 

"I'll get her some pyjamas," Hotch says. 

Emily's not sure what's funnier, the idea of you in pyjamas, the image of Hotch choosing a pair, or the word pyjamas in his stoic murmur. He lingers to make sure you're okay, his eyes tracking the tremble of your arms as Spencer talks too low to hear in your ear, having sat down on the bed and curled himself around you protectively. 

You moan something sad and Spencer laughs, your hospital gown crinkling as he massages the top of your shoulder. "Why would you say that?" he asks lightly. "You think you know better than me? Really?" 

"Of course not," you say. If it were anyone else, you'd have knocked them off the bed already. 

"I don't remember you having an eidetic memory," he furthers. 

You actually manage to laugh for the first time since your initial injury. "I don't remember anything right now," you say. 

Emily leans over to Hotch. "You know, when we first came in, I suggested to the nurse that she might have amnesia because she kept asking me where she was, and she looked me dead in the eye and said, well, good thing you're not a nurse." 

Hotch scoffs a laugh. "It's a little surprising even now. Seeing them together, you'd never think it." 

"Think what?" Emily asks, fond rather than judgemental. "That she's as emotional as a China teacup?" 

"I'll remember for both of us," Spencer murmurs, stroking your face. "Okay? So calm down." 

Derek once told you to calm down and felt the cold of your icy attitude for a ragged week. Spencer says it and you take a visible deep breath, your head laying back in your pillows, his hand quick to cup the side of your neck. "Okay," you say quietly. 

"It's not just that," Hotch says, failing to explain further. 

He doesn't have to. Emily knows what he means. You can be snippy, aloof, unfriendly. But it's not just your softening that's surprising, it's Spencer's growing confidence. The ease with which he handles you, hands unabashed in their comforting. 

"Want me to find you something to wear?" Spencer asks. 

"We got it," Hotch interrupts. "Take it easy, Y/N. Rest." 

You nod obediently. He and Emily leave, hearing a last snippet of conversation as the heavy door closes behind them. 

"You wanna sign my cast, when they do it?" you ask hopefully. 

"Are you kidding? I'd love to. I've always wanted to sign someone's cast, and it's good for your morale." 

"Will they be in a cast long, do you think?" 

"They should be healed in about six to eight weeks, but you may not regain full strength for another two months afterward. There have actually been studies…"