#and lo and behold everything can and will go wrong

[orviposition]

(long ask, sorry)

me, starting to read orv: *never questions anything, why the novel became a reality, who yjh's sponsor is, buying into kim dokja's shitty explanations for his extreme self-sacrificial tendencies. Because. those things just aren't questioned, and definitely not answered in most isekai rpg-esque stories i read*

me, finishing orv: *traumatized, because singnsong proceeded to answer all of those blanks in horrifyingly profound and literary ways*

i just..never thought about it too much?? i reallly did go into this blind, thinking it was a normal, wish fulfillment/self-insert, loser mc to hero fantasy T.T i should've gone in further to your posts because maybe i might've been warned (i started reading cuz of you !!! now pay for my therapy :)

OD reveal my beloved <3 everything about kdj just makes me cry man. i did not think i was gonna get attached to him as much as i am now 😭😭 maybe i was jaded from the multiple shitty isekai anime and manga i've read but i really just wasn't expecting kdj to have such character- ALL of the characters to be so lovable and make me want to cry, cheer and cherish all of them. ESPECIALLY yoo joonghyuk, man the early days of orv where i thought he was gonna be the typical punching bag asshole, unimportant side-character, who the mc gives a beatdown to as some kind of power play(?) 😭 embarassing. hahahhaha

i feel like thats exactly orv's goal. to lure you in with a bunch of trendy genres and tropes and then somewhere down the line it hits your psyche at your most vulnerable. you see kdj being so confident in his knowledge of the world, so omniscient, so to speak, that you simply do not need to question his otherwise eyebrow-raising deeds. he says that helping lgy was hypocritical. he tells ysa that he threw the insect net in her direction by coincidence. he says that yjh is a cold psycho who only cares about seeing the end of the scenarios. and you end up "believing" him. bcs he's omniscient

but then, fast forward a few scenarios later and kdj prioritizes lgy over himself and gives him to yjh to fill the green zone. fast forward a few scenarios more and kdj saves ysa's life with 4th wall's help. he sees yjh lose it when he dies in front of him. he gets so emotional when he finds out yjh has come to the demon realm for him (albeit kdj always seems to give yjh the short end of the stick by Doubting him but by this point we know that he may not be as omniscient as we first thought. especially when it comes to knowing everything about yjh)

fun fact abt me i also kinda went into orv 'blind' so to speak. sure i knew who od sp and tls123 were in names only but the actual revelations shook me to my core regardless 😭😭

and omg 🥺🥺 you read orv because of me im so honored OTL making ppl read orv is like my only goal in life at this point gjsjsh

[htylmg]

love the way my doctor phrased my anemia. she said i don’t “have enough storage” in my body to hold enough iron so im not tired and dizzy all the time. like. beep boop. your free trial of functioning body has ended. let’s throw some supplements at u

[hwaslayer]

vivrant thing (jwy) | five.

—SPOTIFY PLAYLIST / SERIES MASTERLIST

—SUMMARY: after getting into a little accident, wooyoung decides to do his sister a favor by pretending to be your date at the company summer party. as soon as the night ends, wooyoung would go back to his usual routine of hanging out with his boys, keeping his distance from committed relationships and being a typical brother to jiwoo. except, the favor comes with more than what wooyoung expects and he finds you occupying his mind more than usual. 

—PAIRING: jung wooyoung x f. reader

—GENRE: (18+ - minors dni) bestfriend’s brother au | fluff, angst, smut

—WORD COUNT: 9k

—CHAPTER CONTENT / WARNINGS: cussing, mature language/sexually implied content, crying, chapter is pretty heavily papa-focused, mentions of illness, the talk happens!!, crying, bbygirl is sad and exhausted but wooyoung tries his best, yes im sorry i had to reference the howl/wooyoung thing, small sweet kisses and affectionate acts, very brief mentions of alcohol consumption / intoxication / hangovers, also very brief mentions of wooyoung's past again, more jiwoo vs. wooyoung (bickering not actual arguments lol), lots of apologies from jiwoo lol sorry if i missed anything!

Something's wrong, and Wooyoung can't figure it out. It's bothering him. As much as he's trying to respect your space, he can't help but worry about you. Especially when you haven't returned any of his texts or calls. He was expecting something, anything by now, so he can't help himself when he sends another text—

wooyoung: are you at work?

you: i'm about to head home.

You only respond because even though you aren't quite ready to face him regarding all of this yet, you don't wanna worry him unnecessarily. But, it still does anyway. Why aren't you at work?

And maybe, he should've asked if it was okay to see you first. It's the anxiety, the panic, within him that isn't letting him rest. He just needed to see you and make sure you were okay after everything that went down. His sister could be a piece of work, and you didn't necessarily have Yeosang to lean onto. Truthfully, you wouldn't be mad if he actually showed up at your door step. He is the comfort you need as much as you'd hate to admit it right now. At the same time, it'd make you a little more sad though, more confused. 

Lo and behold, when you get home from the long night in the hospital, Wooyoung is leaning against the rail; waiting right by your doorstep. You don't question why he's not at work either, but you feel a sense of relief come over you seeing him there. A sense of relief mixed with nervousness. He doesn't say a word, simply cause he's trying to read you. He's trying to figure out if he's the reason why you look so low and tired. If it's his sister, Yeosang. All of the above.

"I don't really have time to talk about this, Wooyoung—" Is all you mutter as you unlock your door and step in.

"Then, we don't have to talk about it right now. I just wanted to make sure you were okay." He slips in and slowly kicks off his shoes, watching the way you drag yourself towards your closet. You're not sure why that's enough to trigger you, but you find yourself starting to tear up. Exhaustion hitting you tough, sadness stemming deep from your gut. Wooyoung can tell, and even if you're trying to be incredibly sneaky about it, he can still hear you quietly sniffing away. "Y/N." He says, forcing you to pause your movements as you continue to cry. "What is it? Whatever it is, let me help."

"Wooyoung, please just go. I need to go back."

"Go back where?" 

"The hospital." You mutter softly.

"The hospital?" He furrows his brows. "Wait, what's going on? Why are you shutting me out?"

"That's a bold question to ask after that everything that's happened." Fuck, Wooyoung thinks. Don't be fucking stupid, Wooyoung.

"You're right, I'm sorry. I'm just—" He pauses, watching as you pack things in your bag before setting it aside and grabbing a new change of clothes. "I'm worried about you."

"Don't be."

"Y/N." He calls you again, and you take this moment to look him in the eye. Everything within you wants to cave when you see him looking down at you the way he is, hand gently tugging at your wrist. He's basically pleading through his eyes, and the only reason why you continue with your next response is because he actually looks like he means it.

"Papa's in the hospital." You softly say.

"W-what?" He stutters. "What happened? He got worse?"

"Kidney infection." Wooyoung sighs. "He's been hiding it, but he's been feeling more than just being tired. The pain got really bad. Super sudden and sharp. He almost went into sepsis cause of the fever he had."

"Shit. Is he okay now?"

"He's stable." You try to brush past him to quickly wash up and change, but he blocks your path.

"Let me take you." You try to move past, yet you're still unsuccessful.

"Wooyoung." 

"I'll take you back—"

"Stop it. I don't need you to. I don't need you to do anything for me. I can handle it." Your response almost makes him flinch. Truthfully, he knows he deserves it. He knows it shouldn't have taken him this long to talk to you, to reach out to you. So, he knows. He's fully aware. It doesn't make it sting less, though.

"I fucked up. I acknowledge that and I'm sorry. There's so many things I can tell you when the time is right. But, for now, please don't shut me out and do this alone. I wanna be here for you." He pauses, every inch of his heart slowly shattering the more he sees the tears constantly staining your cheeks. "Please let me be here for you." You nibble on your bottom lip, shifting your attention away from Wooyoung as you wipe at your tears and try to suck it all up, try to regain composure. Before Wooyoung can even reach out to wipe the stragglers away, you step around him and lock yourself in the bathroom, leaving Wooyoung in the middle of your living room area. You give yourself a good 15 minutes to freshen up and change before meeting him outside again. He sits on the arm of your couch, patiently waiting.

"I just need to grab a few more things."

"Do you need me to help pack some stuff up?"

"It's okay." You pack some clothes and the rest of your necessities in case you'll be able to stay the night again, though you know it's probably a long shot. You hate having to be away from Papa, and now [even more than ever], you feel the need to keep him close. You feel the need to make up for not being there when he needed you the most; the guilt eating you alive.

Once you've finished, you grab yourself a bottle of water and turn to Wooyoung who is now waiting for you near the door. He gives you a small, toothless smile, gently grabbing your bag from you before leading the way out of your studio and to the car.

The drive is so, so incredibly quiet, but Wooyoung understands you need this more than anything right now. The only time he spoke a word was when he asked you which hospital you needed to go to. Otherwise, he let you sit in your peace. He'd look over from time to time, itching to hold your hand, kiss your hand or gently massage your head as a way to affectionately reassure you that things would be okay. Instead, he looks back out to the road and adjusts the heat a bit to make sure you're warm enough— hoping it's enough to provide comfort from a distance.

"You sure you don't wanna stop by for food or coffee? Anything? You should eat."

"I can just eat at the hospital."

"Mmkay." Wooyoung says, pulling into the hospital and straight towards the parking garage. When he pulls into a spot on the second floor and shuts off the car, he immediately steps out to grab your things from the trunk. You walk alongside of him towards the main entrance, checking in with the front desk before slapping on your visitor stickers and heading down the hall. It's quite the journey of twists and turns before you get to Papa's room, and a sense of relief washes over you when you finally arrive. He's sleeping in his bed, TV on to one of his favorite cooking shows.

"Papa." You gently rub at his arm to wake him. He looks up at you with sleepy eyes, mustering all his energy to smile back at you and Wooyoung.

"Y/N, Wooyoung."

"How're you feeling?" Wooyoung asks.

"Better. Not the best yet, but better." Wooyoung nods before turning his attention to you. "Why don't you go eat? I'll stay with Papa." Wooyoung looks at you sympathetically. You simply nod in response, tugging Papa's blanket up before you let him know you'll be stepping out for a few minutes.

"Papa, do you need anything right now?" He shakes his head. "I'll be back then, okay? I'm going to get food." Papa nods sleepily. "Wooyoung is here." You turn back to Wooyoung, who is now sitting in the chair next to his bed. "Want anything?"

"I'm good." He gives you a pursed smile, watching you walk out of the room and down to the cafeteria on the other end of the first floor. After grabbing some toast, a bit of egg and bacon, you order a latte to go with your food. You sit at a table near the window and slowly eat away, scrolling through social media and stumbling upon Jiwoo and Hongjoong's pictures. You like all of them, though the two of you hadn't really talked much since the fight, since she left. Despite all of the commotion, you still sent her a text wishing her a safe trip, in which she replied with a heart reaction. 

You left it at that.

It was hurtful, and you were sad you and Jiwoo were like this. But, you were still optimistic that the two of you would return to your usual ways soon. Besides, you still needed to figure out what was going on between you and Wooyoung.

All of this was a mess.

You feel your bottom lip tremble and you press the back of your finger flat beneath your nose to try and prevent yourself from crying in the cafeteria. When you feel the wave pass, you let out a shaky breath before focusing on finishing your food. Meanwhile, Wooyoung continues to watch the TV while Papa lays next to him, in and out of sleep. At least, that's what he thought until Papa breaks the comfortable silence that had fallen between them.

"Wooyoungie." Papa is barely able to make out, his voice hoarse and tired. Wooyoung is surprised to see him awake right now, only being able to imagine how tired he is.

"Mhm?" Wooyoung tugs his blanket up a little more on the side, returning his attention back up to Papa's face afterwards.

"Take care of my Y/N, hm?" He smiles softly. "My body isn't what it used to be. I'm afraid it'll only get weaker, and at some point, my time will come." Wooyoung's heart drops hearing the statement fall from Papa's lips, though, when he faces the reality, it's only the truth. "Take care of her. Please don't leave her alone."

"I will. I promise I won't leave her side, okay?" Papa lets out a content breath, resting his head back against the pillow. "Although, I think I might've messed up with her."

"You didn't." He pulls another tired smile.

"Pretty sure I did." Wooyoung licks his lips. "I was being stupid."

"You needed time, I assume. It happens to the best of us." 

"Did she.. tell you everything?" Wooyoung asks, afraid of the details Papa might know. And he knows, to some extent. You did tell him that dinner with Yeosang was terrible. You did tell him that you drank a little too much after, that you accidentally texted Wooyoung instead of Jiwoo. You did tell him things 'kinda' escalated. 

And then you apologized profusely while you cried at his bedside for not being there because you got into a fight with Jiwoo over the whole thing with Wooyoung. You cried your sorries nonstop; Papa didn't even know what was more painful to endure: you breaking down and sobbing, or his kidneys going outta wack.

—FLASHBACK

"Papa?" You step inside his apartment and slip out of your shoes, a small smile on your face when you see him watering his plants out on his balcony.

"Hey, there she is." He laughs a bit, putting down his watering pot before placing an arm on his lower back. "Was just watering my plants." He winces a bit as he steps inside and plops onto the couch.

"You okay?"

"Ah, my lower back's been bothering me, but it's not too big of a deal. Probably just need to exercise and stretch more."

"You sure? We can go to the hospital just to get it checked out."

"No, no. No need." He sits back and smiles up at you. "I am sure."

"Okay. I'll brew us some tea? I got us a few pastries from your favorite café." You sit the box down on his coffee table and pop it open, revealing a matcha cream pastry and a fruit danish with seasonal berries [which is Papa's favorite].

"Sounds good. Thank you." You smile at him and start heating up some water before seeping bags of green tea. Papa lets out a content sigh as he flips through his TV and starts watching the news while you prep. "So, wanna tell me how dinner with Yeosang went?" You briefly pause, hearing the electric kettle click and automatically shut off. You take two mugs out from his cabinet and pour the tea into each before dipping the green tea bags. You set them aside for another 3 minutes, grabbing two small plates and utensils for the pastries.

"Well, to be straightforward, it was awkward and terrible."

"Awkward and terrible. That bad?"

"I don't even know if we'll even go back to being the same, Papa."

"I'm sure you will. Just give it some time. It's all fresh so it'll feel weird for a little bit." He looks at you and observes the way you avoid eye contact with him, even while you cut the pastries in half. 

"Mhm." You hum.

"Something else happen?"

"Why do you say that?" You pass him his plate and utensils, still avoiding eye contact.

"You're avoiding your old man." He chuckles and you briefly look at him before shaking your head and returning your attention to the matcha cream pastry on your plate. "You were never a liar, so it's easy to tell when you're not exactly telling the truth and covering up."

"I don't know."

"You can tell me when you're ready."

"I am ready. I just don't know how to say it."

"You know I'd never judge you."

"I know, I know." You sit back on your knees before looking up at him. "Hm. After the dinner, I went to the convenience store near my house and drank some soju to get my mind off of dinner with Yeosang. Plus, I dunno, I didn't feel as satisfied so I grabbed some snacks. I got a pretty tipsy again and ended up accidentally texting Wooyoung instead of Jiwoo. He came to my rescue. We hung out at my apartment and um." Your bottom lip pokes out. "Things kinda just.. happened." Papa nods slowly.

"Ahhh." The response is somewhat elongated.

"I know, it's awful."

"No, it's not. But, why do you seem sad or upset about it?"

"Because I dunno where this leads us. We haven't talked. I haven't even told Jiwoo yet either and I know she won't take it well. That'll probably ruin our friendship, too." You sigh. "I'm just losing my friends one by one."

"Don't say that. They love you and care for you as much as you do. Fights will happen but it won't compare to the strong foundations you've built." He pauses. "Where do you want the whole thing with Wooyoung to lead you?" You shrug.

"Is it dumb to say that I like Wooyoung? It all started from the party and—" You let out a frustrated sigh. "I know he probably doesn't feel the same." And that's the issue for you.

"You don't know that. Maybe he needed time to form his thoughts, Y/N." You look at Papa blankly. "People who have feelings will often need time to form their words. It's too deep for them to understand quickly so they dissect carefully. Especially if they don't wanna mess things up. Give him some time before you overthink and start jumping to conclusions. Can you do that for me? Wooyoung wouldn't just leave you without answers like that."

"I guess, ya." Is all you say, shaking it off before you start crying in front of him. "Anyway, tea is ready. I'll go grab it and we can watch your favorite movies?"

"Sounds good to me." He chuckles a bit, though deep down he is a little worried about you. Himself. He's been feeling off lately, and after this, the last thing he wants to do is worry you more. 

He just hopes whatever he's been feeling will pass so it'll be one less thing on your plate.

—END

"She didn't have to tell me specifics." Wooyoung nods. "Do you find yourself feeling any different about her now that time has passed? You can tell me and it'll be safe between us."

"I like her. A lot." He does a slight head tilt. "Wouldn't blame her if she didn't feel the same, though. I handled it poorly."

"My girl's got a big heart." Papa chuckles a bit. "I know she feels the same about you, or else she wouldn't have been sulking over it." He lightly teases, making the heat rise to Wooyoung's cheeks. "Just promise me you'll take care of it. You'll take care of her?"

"I'm sorry. It was my fault in the first place. But, you have my word. I will. I'm gonna make things right after this."

"I trust you." Papa holds out his hand for Wooyoung to take, and he does. He holds it tightly, giving it a squeeze.

"For now, she still needs you, too. Promise me you'll take care of yourself?"

"I know, I should, huh? Might need you to be my personal trainer." Wooyoung laughs a bit.

"I think you're stronger and way more knowledgeable than me."

"Should we arm wrestle when I get a little better?"

"Sure, I'll let you hurt my feelings just once. I deserve it." Papa laughs just before shutting his eyes to rest again. The nurse comes in to give Papa his breakfast and meds, greeting Wooyoung as she sets it up on the table. As soon as she instructs Papa to eat his porridge and take his medicine right after, you walk in and greet her with a small smile on your face. You speak to her to check on any new updates regarding Papa and she reassures you that everything seems to be fine. If he continues to improve and remain stable within the next day or two, she thinks he can go home sooner than later.

"Do you think I can stay here again with him tonight?" You're holding a pastry in a bag and a cold, bottled americano for Wooyoung in your hands. "I-I just don't know if I can leave him alone here." The nurse looks at you sympathetically and shakes her head, her hand on your wrist.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N. I wish I could bend the rules even more for you, but we can't allow visitors to stay for another night. I promise he's in good hands, okay? And as soon as the morning comes, you're more than welcome to come back." You sigh and nod, trying to be understanding of the rules. You knew this would be the outcome, but mentally preparing ahead of time doesn't make you any less sad. Nervous. Anxious.

"No, it's okay. I understand. Thank you." She gives you another sympathetic smile.

"Call me if you need anything, okay? I'm here until visiting hours end tonight." You nod, watching as she walks out, leaving the three of you in the room. You hand Wooyoung his food and drink, pulling the table with Papa's food and medicine over.

"You didn't have to."

"You should eat, too." You look at him before looking at the food and unwrapping it. "Papa, you ready to eat? You gotta take your medicine soon so you can sleep a little more."

"I could eat." You chuckle a bit while Wooyoung helps him sit up properly. 

After Papa eats and drinks his medicine, he continues to fall in and out of sleep due to the exhaustion from everything that happened over the past day and overnight. The pain seems to be managed well, and the treatment plan that the doctor has him on seems to be working. It was caught at a time before things could get too deep and severely irreversible, so you're grateful for that despite the pain Papa had gone through. In between his naps, you and Wooyoung would talk about the show on TV or go on quick walks around the hospital before coming back to the room. The only time Wooyoung leaves your side is to briefly buy some food at the convenience store across the street, grabbing you an egg salad sandwich and some iced tea per your request, and grabbing himself a few other snacks in case you wanted some, too.

Which, as he expected, you ended up stealing his chips and mochi. You only left him with a bite of his favorite strawberry mochi, but he couldn't even be mad when you looked at him with wide-eyes, powder around your lips after taking the majority of the damn thing into your mouth. All he could do was sigh, suppressing the want to tease you and tickle you until you surrender [or kick him in the balls accidentally, whichever comes first].

When evening hits, you make sure Papa gets a good amount of his dinner in before taking his medication and drinking lots of water. It hurts you to leave him alone for the night, but you know he'll be coming home soon and you'll be able to spend as much time as possible with him then. You squeeze his hand and hold back your tears, reassuring him you'll be back in the morning before dragging yourself out of his room when visiting hours ends. Wooyoung trails behind, hand rubbing at your back gently as he guides you back to the car.

The ride back home is equally as silent as the drive over to the hospital, and Wooyoung is having trouble figuring out when he can talk to you about everything going on between you and him. No time ever feels like the right time, but Wooyoung knows he has to do this instead of pushing it off even more. 

"Wooyoung?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for driving me and for staying with me today." 

"It's nothing."

"It's a lot, and I really appreciate it." He looks over with a tiny smile before pulling up to your street. It's obvious Wooyoung wants to say more and you know what it is, but the assumption doesn't get solidified until he breaks the silence again; you're not entirely sure how to feel with where this is going.

Anxious? Afraid of what he might actually say to you about everything?

"Y/N." Wooyoung calls for you just as he parks his car and shuts it off. "Can we talk now please? It probably won't feel like the right time, but I'd really like to before the night ends. I don't want another day to pass like this." You look at him, hand tugging on the sleeve of your sweater as you nod.

"Okay." Wooyoung looks at you and gives you a small smile.

"Let me start off by saying I'm sorry about the way things happened. I was fucking stupid and I shouldn't have left you that morning. Truthfully, I just didn't know how to put my feelings into words because it's never been this way for me. I know it sounds cliché, but I really don't know how else to explain it. I just.. I like you. A lot. I have a lot of feelings for you and it was scary for me because it happened quick, and I wasn't sure if you felt the same. I know I should've just said it to avoid all of this in the first place, but clearly I'm bad at it." He chuckles nervously before shaking his head. "Um, anyway—I'm rambling. I'm sorry." He repeats, soft dark brown eyes on you. "Point is, I like you and there's nothing else I've been more sure of. I hope I didn't mess this up already, but I'd understand if you wanted nothing to do with me. I didn't treat you the way you should have been treated that morning, and I'm sorry for making you feel that way in the first place." His voice falls lowly, Wooyoung trying to stomach his nervousness for your response. He watches as you fiddle with your fingers before you look up at him.

"I appreciate the apology. I'm not gonna lie, it was hurtful Wooyoung. And it didn't make it any better that your sister was in my face with the 'i told you so.'" You sigh.

"I'm sorry, I know. That was never my intention, Y/N. And if you wanna do this with me, we can take this slow so that I can show you. Because I never wanna make you feel that way again."

"I feel the same way and I do want this with you, Wooyoung. I'm just scared."

"I know, and that's completely valid. But, I promise you that you can trust me to take care of you from here on out, okay? We don't have to rush into anything and just take it as it comes. But, I'm here with you no matter what. Nothing will change that." You slowly nod, the feelings slightly becoming overwhelming. 

"Okay." Is all you respond with. You're feeling happy, relieved, but also scared, anxious. It might just be everything that's been happening with Papa, but it feels good to know you aren't entirely alone. Because even if you didn't wanna admit it before, you were afraid of being alone. Despite your friends being with you over the years, there was always a sense of loneliness that was hidden in the corner of your mind. Loneliness without your parents. Loneliness without a person, your person. You tried not to look at it this way because you weren't really lacking anywhere and still had love coming from different avenues. But, you also can't lie and say you didn't think about it and how it'd feel to have your parents, or someone to call yours genuinely and wholly.

"And Jiwoo.." Wooyoung does a slight head tilt. "I won't apologize on her behalf, but whatever she said about me, I can't lie and say it isn't true. You know I haven't been the best in the past, but you mean more to me than that and I'm trying to do better this time around. It's not gonna be perfect but know that I'm trying." He lets out a breath. "She'll come around soon, too. I know you're worried about her. You know how Jiwoo is."

"I hope so."

"I'll try and talk to her."

"It's okay. I think I just need to sit her down and open up to her about all of this." He nods.

"We're okay then?"

"Yeah." You manage to push the rest of your feelings back momentarily when Wooyoung leans over to place a chaste kiss on your forehead. For a second, things do feel okay.

"Come on, let's get you upstairs. Been a long day for you." You nod. Wooyoung grabs your bag from the trunk, following closely behind you as you walk up to your studio. You still seem rather quiet and although he's happy the talk is done with and you two are okay, he can tell something else is bothering you. It isn't long before he finds out because as soon as you enter your studio, you let out a heavy sigh and drop your purse to the floor. You stand in the center, suddenly breaking down into your hands when the feeling gets immensely overwhelming, almost unbearable.

"Y/N." Wooyoung says, close to a whisper. He comes from behind and gently wraps his arms around you before turning you to face him. He pries your hands away from your face, thumbs softly coming to wipe your tears away. "Baby, hey. It's gonna be okay." He shushes you as you rest against his chest, crying and wetting his shirt. "Baby." He repeats at a whisper, shushing and cooing you in his arms. "What is it? What's bothering you?" He tenderly kisses your tears away, thumb caressing your cheeks while he looks at you with a small frown on his face.

"What if they didn't get there in time, Woo? What if he had been one minute late—" Wooyoung tuts and rests against the back of the couch, pulling you in between his legs. He continues to wipe your tears away, shaking his head.

"But, none of that happened, okay? None of that happened. You don't need to worry about that because he's still here. He's recovering and you've been there with him every step of the way. That's all that matters. He's gonna get better, he already is. He'll be better tomorrow and the next day, and so on." You sigh, looking at him before nodding. 

"I can't lose him right away."

"You won't. I promise. He's still strong and he'll get through this." He brushes the hair away from your face. "It's gonna be okay." He repeats.

"Sorry."

"Don't be, love. Why don't you get comfortable, hm? We can hang out here and watch another Studio Ghibli movie."

"Will you stay?" You ask him softly, watching as he presses a kiss to the surface of your hand.

"Of course I will, Y/N. I'm just gonna grab some stuff from my place, but I'll make it quick and come back."

"Okay." You answer, voice dipping close to a whisper. Wooyoung pulls you closer, pressing a light kiss to your lips before standing. As you grab your pajamas, Wooyoung gets a hot shower started for you, tossing a bit of your lavender epsom salt onto the shower floor to help relax you. He reassures you again that he'll be quick before shutting the bathroom door and heading out. You give yourself time to just be under the hot water, letting it ease and relax your body while you cry out all your worries and concerns— letting them all go so that you can find some peace for the time being.

Maybe the universe will take the rest into its own hands.

After taking your time in the shower, you step out and do your nightly routine— carefully lathering the lotion across your body before working on your skincare. You throw on your red flannel pajama shorts and step into a vintage Disneyland crewneck before walking out to light up some candles and search for a good movie. It's not until about 15 mins later that Wooyoung comes through the door, holding a brown bag in hand; duffle bag slung on his shoulder while he's also [apparently] sporting red flannel pajamas and a black Stussy hoodie.

"Copycat." Wooyoung points to your red flannel pajamas as you watch him show you his own hiding underneath his sweats.

"Excuse, I threw these on first."

"What if I got to my apartment before you stepped out?" Wooyoung cocks a brow up, making you roll your eyes in return. He snorts and rushes to hold you from behind, kissing you on the cheek. "It does look better on you, though."

"I thought so." He chuckles a bit before pointing at the bag. "So, I might've made a pitstop to the McDonald's drive-thru because I was craving a shrimp burger and some fries. I got you the chicken sandwich. With a side order for their special sauce?" He says in a questioning tone. "And fries!"

"How'd you remember?"

"Please, I've only had to do the order for you and Jiwoo a million times over the years." You giggle.

"Thank you, Woo." He sets his bag down and slips out of his sweats to walk around in his flannel pajamas before coming over to you in the living room.

"No problem." He points at your hair. "You can get sick." He crinkles his forehead at you before walking into your bathroom and grabbing your hair dryer hanging off of the organizer you have. He takes one of your wide-toothed combs and plops back onto the couch.

"Wooyoung." You look at him as you take the food out of the bag and set it on the coffee table. "You don't have to dry my hair."

"Well, I know you won't and I don't want you to get sick. I don't mind. Come." He pats the area in between his legs. Once you've set the empty bag aside, he sits you in between his legs before plugging the dryer into your extension cord. He switches it to the low heat setting, taking the blow dryer to your hair as he gently combs through. You set the TV onto Howl's Moving Castle, picking at your fries as Wooyoung continues to patiently dry your hair. "You can eat." He says over the noise. You hold up a fry for him to take in his mouth, continuing his motions until your hair is mostly dry, a few strands still damp but not too wet. "There." He says, shutting it off and gently combing through your hair.

"Thank you." He chuckles before neatly tying the cord the way you had it done earlier and slipping out from behind you to put it back in the bathroom. You've moved back onto the couch with your burger box in hand, pressing play to the movie as Wooyoung sits down.

"Yoooo." He smiles. "This is one of my favorites!" You look at him with your eyes squinted. "What?"

"You know, since you started growing out your hair, I knew you looked like someone but I could never put my finger on who exactly. And now it makes sense."

"What?" He repeats.

"You look like Howl." He blushes and does his high-pitched giggle, making you snort in response.

"You mean that?"

"Shut up. You just wanna hear it."

"I do." He pouts.

"I'll change it."

"I mean go for it, you can always look at him here on your couch." He wiggles his eyebrows.

"Wooyoung." You whine, flipping to Grave of the Fireflies.

"Baby." It's his turn to whine. He'd probably kick his feet and cry about it if he truly wanted to. "Why'd you turn it?! I heard this is hella sad!"

"Then, we'll cry together this time! A core bonding moment." You press play.

"Sassy." He looks at you. "I just wanna remind you that you ate my favorite mochi earlier." Wooyoung reminds you and you sigh.

"I already said sorry!" He laughs.

"I'm just teasing."

"Do you really not wanna watch this?"

"No, I do! I don't mind. I just thought the reminder would help since hours passed." You roll your eyes.

"I'm just gonna buy you another one tomorrow." 

"I'm kidding. Honestly." Wooyoung laughs. "You know what I could take instead?" You cock a brow up.

"Dare I even answer?"

"Too late, I'll take that as an answer." He puckers his lips. "I'll never bring it up again." He says in between. You giggle and succumb to his wants, quickly pecking him on the lips that leaves him smiling in a daze. "I'll never get tired of that." You shake your head and press play, the both of you finally eating away at your food as the movie gets on to a start without interruptions. 

You finish your food within the first 15 minutes, not realizing how hungry you were for good, sloppy comfort food. Wooyoung surprisingly remains quiet for a majority, only making noises and reacting to specific scenes. Eventually, the food coma hits you and you find yourself switching positions until you're snuggled up to Wooyoung. He takes the outer end of the couch while you lay on his chest from the inside. The blanket you leave hanging on the arm of the couch is now draped over you two, Wooyoung's arm around you to keep you close. When the movie hits the last 20 minute mark, Wooyoung starts spilling out his thoughts, but finds that your responses get more and more delayed as time goes on.

"Mhm." You answer late, causing Wooyoung to look down at you. You're damn near falling asleep on him, and it doesn't help that Wooyoung feels incredibly warm. Comfortable. He laughs a bit to himself before gently shaking your shoulder and pressing another kiss to your forehead.

"Falling asleep there?"

"Just wanna rest my eyes for like.. 5 minutes." You mumble, with Wooyoung carrying on to finish the rest of the movie by himself. Suddenly, his phone starts vibrating on the coffee table, making him swoop it up in a haste to avoid waking you up from your so-called 5-min nap.

"Ay!" Wooyoung rests the phone on his ear, regretting it as soon as San's loud ass voice comes through on the other end.

"The fuck are you so loud for?" Wooyoung says lowly, hoping this doesn't wake you.

"Kinda drunk. Wanna head out? We're gonna head to the bars!"

"Uh, nah." Wooyoung looks down while you shift in your position, snugging closer to him. "I'm good."

"What?" San laughs. "You're turning down bar hopping? For what?"

"Just cause. Plus, it's the weekday. You're gonna be so fucked tomorrow."

"Wow, that's new." San snorts. "Are you with Y/N or something?"

"Yeah. She's asleep."

"So, you won't even head out for a bit while she's asleep?"

"No, dude. I'm not gonna leave her." There's a silence that falls between them before San is clearing his throat.

"I get it. Okay then! Well, we'll be at our usuals if you change your mind."

"Probably not. But, have fun and be safe." 

"Thanks!" He says before he mumbles something to the rest of the group and hangs up the call. Wooyoung wraps up the movie and switches it to a college basketball documentary that's playing on the TV, only making it about 15 minutes more before he finds himself getting sleepy.

"Y/N." Wooyoung calls for you before he can fall asleep completely. "Let's get ready for bed so we can sleep." You let out a small whine before rubbing at your face, sitting up as Wooyoung follows suit. You sleepily waddle over to the bathroom to brush and floss your teeth with one eye barely open. You quickly check the clock outside, seeing that it's only about 11pm but it feels late. You feel exhausted. Wooyoung is tossing the trash away before wiping down your coffee table, shutting off the TV before grabbing his things from his bag. You quickly pee and wash your hands before walking over to the bed and letting Wooyoung take over the bathroom. 

The entire studio is dark at this point besides the bathroom light seeping from under the door in the corner, and for once, the dark doesn't seem so frightening, so lonely. 

So cold.

For once, the dark is soothing, is peaceful. For once, the dark is warmth because Wooyoung will be there no matter which direction you turn. You crawl under your covers, scooting towards the inside of your bed to make room for Wooyoung. He takes about 10 minutes before he shuts off the light and heads over to join you. He sheds off his hoodie and tosses it aside, slipping under the covers in his pajama pants and white tee. You continue to face him as he settles, his hand coming to your side to pull you a little closer.

"Wooyoung."

"Yeah, babygirl?"

"You know you don't have to stay at the hospital tomorrow, right? I'd be okay if you just dropped me off." He shakes his head.

"No, I don't mind. I'll stay."

"You sure?" You yawn.

"Mhm. I want to."

"You're gonna be so fired." He laughs.

"I've got hours, don't worry."

"Thank you."

"Stop thanking me, love. I'm only trying to take care of you properly." You sleepily smile at him while he kisses the tip of your nose. "We should probably sleep since we need to be up early tomorrow." You nod, his hand giving your side a squeeze. You initiate the kiss this time, feeling comfortable yet bold enough to give him a goodnight kiss. He holds it for a second longer before parting, chasing after your lips quickly after. You giggle when he starts to repeatedly kiss you and smiling into the kiss, almost having trouble prying himself off of you. "Okay, okay." He laughs. "Goodnight, pretty girl."

"Goodnight, Woo." You welcome yourself into his arms and almost fall asleep immediately, his arms feeling like home to you.

The next morning comes, and you and Wooyoung are off to the hospital about 30-mins after visiting hours begin. You found it hard to sleep fully throughout the night, anxious and scared a call from the hospital would come through about changes in Papa's status. But, thankfully, none of the sort happened, and Wooyoung did his best to keep you comfortable throughout the night by whispering his reassurances against your head.

Through sweet, gentle touches and squeezes. 

To your relief, Papa looks brighter and more alert when you walk in. He's already slowly going through his oatmeal, the morning news on the TV screen. He smiles when he sees the both of you walk in, loosely hand-in-hand. You happily walk over to Papa and hug him, sitting on the edge of his bed while you place a hand on his forehead.

"How'd you sleep?" You ask, his temp feeling way better than the past days.

"Good! I was in a deep sleep." You laugh.

"No pain or anything?" He shakes his head. "Good. Everything seems to be working. You might be outta here tomorrow!"

"I just might." He chuckles. "The nurse said she was gonna come back and wash me up. Was hoping to get me up and walking around to get some movement in, too."

"That's a good idea. Let's go on a walk later." Wooyoung says as he sits on the chair by his bed. You nod in agreement, watching as Papa continues to eat away at his oatmeal and fruits. 

"Do you need to go home?"

"Mm." Wooyoung looks at his phone. "I was going to just to make some food for us."

"You should go. We'll be fine."

"You sure?"

"Yes." You give him a look, and he can't help but return the look in a playful manner.

"I'll go in a bit, but I'll be quick when I do." He tugs on your hand. "Come sit and relax." You sit in the empty chair next to Wooyoung. You continue to ask Papa about his night and if the doctor visited this morning. He says yes, sharing the optimism from the doctor despite the fact that he'll have to make a few lifestyle changes moving forward. You share in the excitement, agreeing that Papa looks way better and seems to be progressing back to his old self. You and Wooyoung let him know that you'll be there every step of the way, making sure those changes are implemented smoothly. Papa starts to tell you about his dream, and how he was hiking up a tall mountain without any issue. At the end of the trail was a beautiful view of a city, but he couldn't pinpoint where exactly. He describes all the pretty flowers blossoming on his way to the top, the sky clear and blue. He jokes about how he hopes he can make it come true soon, even if its a local hike. You chuckle, telling him he needs to take it easy for awhile until he fully regains strength and he remains stable for a good period. Wooyoung chimes in, volunteering to join him when that time comes.

When the conversation settles, Wooyoung takes this as an opportunity to head out so he can come back right away. He heads back to his apartment to whip up a good lunch and dinner [along with whatever snacks are lying around] to pack up for the two of you to grub on. While he occupies himself with food prep, he calls San to check on him and to ask him how the night went. As expected, his bestfriend is hung over as shit at work, groaning and complaining about how he drank too much and should've paced himself knowing he had work. Wooyoung laughs at him over the phone, giving him his own version of an 'i told you so' before San lowly cusses him out. He asks about you and Papa and if everything seems to be better. Wooyoung lets him know that Papa's improved, and that he was able to talk everything out with you. There's another silence that falls between them and it's because San simply isn't used to this Wooyoung. He's used to the Wooyoung that was a 'lil shit, playing his game and being up and about no matter what the time or day was. He's used to the Wooyoung that wasn't messing with serious relationships and the Wooyoung that had to give the 'i think you should go' talk after every fuck. Or the 'it was never supposed to get this serious' talk when the girls would find themselves talking to him about feelings.

It's just been a long, long time since San has seen this Wooyoung, and quite frankly, he wasn't sure if he would ever see it again. But, don't get him wrong. He is happy for you two, and it's almost like fresh air hearing Wooyoung talk about you the way he does. He's gonna have to get used to seeing less and less of him, and that's fine— as long as Wooyoung was genuinely happy.

RIP to those days, though. It was fun while it lasted!

Once Wooyoung finally finishes whipping up some food and packing it away, he grabs a few other necessities; fully expecting to be with you tonight so that he can help you with Papa's potential release tomorrow. He's glad he told work he'd be out for the week. Even though it was a bit last minute, he does have a shit ton of PTO and sick hours accumulated that he doesn't mind using if it meant he'd be with you.

God, he really fucking likes you. 

So much that Wooyoung finds a 'lil pep in his step walking back to his car, plopping the bag of food right onto his passenger's seat— buckling it up to keep it safe and steady. He blasts his music out of the parking lot, Mr. Donnell Jones coming through on his speakers with U Know What's Up. He sings along until he's rudely interrupted by a call coming through from his sister.

"Damn, Jiwoo. You couldn't call any other time?" Wooyoung clicks his teeth. "What is it?"

"I just got back to my apartment from the airport, jeez. Can I swing by?"

"No. I just left."

"Then do you think you can stop by really quickly? I got you a few things from Japan." Which, as we've learned, is Jiwoo's way of apologizing without having to flat out apologize to her brother. Wooyoung rolls his eyes and lets out a sigh, shaking his head as if she can see him.

"Can't either."

"Why not?"

"Because. I'm on the way to the hospital."

"Uh. For what?"

"Well, while you were too busy being all upsetti-spaghetti, Papa's been in the hospital."

"What? Why didn't Y/N tell me anything?! Oh my god—"

"Jiwoo, if I were her, I would not be thinking about you first either." Wooyoung furrows his brows as he continues to drive off. "Besides, you being the good ol' bestfriend you are, kicked her outta your place, remember? I don't think she necessarily feels like she can come to you right now."

"Fuck." Jiwoo whines, feeling guilty about everything. She knows she was a tad too harsh, and she knows she should've come to you first. But, she was waiting until she could see you in person to apologize for the way she acted. "Which hospital?"

"SNU."

"I'll be there soon with Joong." 

"Don't come if you plan on yelling some more."

"I'm not! I need to see my bestfriend, Wooyoung. You can't have her to yourself."

"Can't hear you—" With that, Wooyoung abruptly ends the call. He drives into the garage and finds a spot on the third level, carrying the bag of food he made in his hand before making the trek over to Papa's room. 

"You're back." Your eyes twinkle when you see him walk in and he can't help but smile.

"That, I am." He presses a kiss to your temple. "I made some food for lunch and dinner. Or else my groceries were gonna go bad."

"Wow, okay chef." You laugh. "Thank you, Woo." 

"Mhm." He responds in a sing-song tone before turning to Papa, who is now coming out of the bathroom with his nurse. "He's up."

"He is!" She answers.

"Am I allowed to take him on a walk and get some steps in?"

"No, please. Go for it. Thank you." The nurse steps aside to let Wooyoung guide Papa and the IV pole out into the hallway. The nurse watches them until they head out, returning her attention back to you once they leave.

"Is that your boyfriend?"

"Mm. A friend that's a boy?" You tease with a small laugh. She gets it though, and she knows. You didn't even have to say it because she can clearly see it through Wooyoung's actions alone.

"Well, he seems to care a lot about you and your grandfather. It's very sweet."

"He is." You give her a toothless smile. "Thank you for taking care of him. I really appreciate it."

"No problem. He's been good, so I'm more than sure he'll be out of here tomorrow." You nod, watching as she walks out of the room. You sit back and look through the bag Wooyoung brought, giggling to yourself when there's a whole bag of sour punch straws and other random snacks surrounding the tupperwares. You pick at the tiny bag of biscoff cookies, nibbling onto one as you sit back and catch up on one of the podcasts you actively follow. 

Just as Wooyoung and Papa come back into the room about 30 minutes later, you scurry off to the bathroom down the hall. At this point, Jiwoo and Hongjoong barely miss you as they turn the corner and approach the room. Wooyoung is helping Papa get situated properly back in the bed post-walk, the two talking about the episode from his cooking show that's currently playing on TV. When he turns towards the door and catches Jiwoo'a figure, he gives her a small nod of acknowledgement.

"Joong, I think an intruder snuck in with you." Jiwoo rolls her eyes while Hongjoong laughs it off, the two of them formally greeting Papa and checking in with him. Jiwoo looks around the room, making sure she hasn't missed you before turning to her brother.

"Where'd she go?"

"Bathroom." Wooyoung gives his sister a particular look. 

"Don't give me that look." She pouts a bit and he shrugs.

"What else am I supposed to do?" Is all he says before you appear in the doorway, pausing in your steps when you noticed the additional visitors in the room.

"Oh. Hi—" Jiwoo comes rushing over, pulling you into the biggest bear hug known to man. At first, you're caught off guard even though this has happened during silly little one-off fights with Jiwoo in the past. But, once you've gotten over the initial feeling, you slowly wrap your arms around her and rest in her hold.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N. I really am so sorry. I shouldn't have done all of that, I shouldn't have yelled and kicked you out— I'm so sorry." She mumbles against you. "You must've felt so alone. I'm sorry. I wanted to wait until I saw you in person again but Wooyoung told me Papa was here so I had to come. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gotten so angry and said those things—" She continues to repeat until she's basically sobbing in your arms, the three men in the back minding their own business and giving you two space.

"It's fine, Jiwoo. Stop apologizing."

"No, it's not." She pulls back and looks at you with a pout, brushing your hair back. "I treated you so poorly and unfairly and I'm so sorry."

"It's okay. I probably would've reacted the same way if I was in your shoes. It's fine. We're okay."

"Are you sure we are? I promise I'll make it up to you."

"Stop that. You don't need to, okay? I promise we're fine." She lets out a sigh and examines your features, somewhat relieved you don't seem too exhausted or stressed from everything going on.

"Are you and my brother good? Did you talk it out?"

"We did."

"So, is this a thing now?" She points between you and him, and you nod timidly.

"Y-yeah. It is. I hope you're not mad."

"I'm not. I'm only slightly grossed out just cause it's Wooyoung, but I'm not mad. You just let me know if he messes up ever again, okay? I'm sorry, Y/N. And wait, don't think about replacing me with him either." You snort, shaking your head at her. She hugs you tightly again before holding your hand and bringing you to the gift bags she set aside at the corner of the room. She hands you and Papa a gift bag, while shoving Wooyoung's his way. Her and Hongjoong tell you a little bit about the trip, but they don't go into too much detail before they start asking about Papa and how he had been feeling. As the conversation continues, Jiwoo notices the way Wooyoung completely changes around you [in a good way]. He's got you on his lap, hand gently caressing your arm. It looks so natural and so.. meant to be [and so not out of place] that Jiwoo can't even be mad or find a reason to justify her past actions. He cares about you, and you with him.

All she's ever wanted was for you to be happy, for Wooyoung to be genuinely happy. She's not gonna lie— it does melt her heart a bit to see it live.

They hang around for a good hour or so before Jiwoo and Hongjoong give Papa some time to rest; Wooyoung offering to walk them back to the car while you stay behind and sit with him as he falls into an afternoon nap. Hongjoong quickly runs over to the bathroom, leaving Jiwoo and her brother alone momentarily.

"You really care about her." Jiwoo says softly.

"Yeah, I do." He stuffs his hands in his pockets and kicks at the imaginary rocks below his feet.

"Don't fuck this up, okay?" She looks at him. "Seriously, I'll beat your ass if you hurt her."

"I won't, Jiwoo." He says, slightly annoyed. But, he knows she means well and is just being your bestfriend. "Could help if you had a little more hope in me, you know?"

"Okay. I'm sorry." She sighs. "So, what are your plans with her? You haven't asked her out officially, right?"

"Well, that's why I'm gonna take her out on a date once Papa's out and better."

"To where?"

"To mind your own business, that's where." He looks at her with a brow cocked up and she rolls her eyes.

"Idiot." He snorts.

"Actually.. I have a few ideas but there's this one I really like. Think she might have fun and enjoy it with me."

—TAGLIST: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @heyitsmetonid @ldysmfrst @intaksfav @wooyoungsbrat @hyukssunflower @yunhoswrldddd @gotthicbish @thespiffynerd @jaytheatiny @yoonrixx @aurorajoye @i-love-ateez @starrywoo @bitejoongie @thedistractedwriter @dalsuwaha @huachengsbestie01

[jnkgrnde]

— can you stand the rain?, clarisse la rue, pjo

FREE PALESTINE: LINKS TO HELP

summary — in which, you and clarisse get into an argument that causes you to kiss in the rain.

pairings — clarisse la rue x black!fem!reader (daughter of poseidon)

content includes — arguing, kissing in the rain, best friends to lovers, jealous!clarisse

authors note — TELL ME BABY CAN YEWWWW STAND THE RAINNNNNN 🗣️🎤 this is def butt but this has been in my drafts for way too long so!

it was a beautiful, sunny day in long island. the smell of strawberries from the fields established themselves as today’s scent for the camp, the lake was cool enough for a dip.

it was a perfect day.

and it was a perfect day for you and clarisse to hang out with each other. you wanted to convince her to take a day off from training and take a swim in the lake to cool off for the day, before eventually doing something stupid later.

you knew clarisse was up because she was always up before you, so you decided to knock on the ares cabin door first to find her. her younger brother told you she wasn’t there and that you could find her at the sparring field. you thanked him with a smile before leaving to find her. lo and behold, there was clarisse la rue in her armor with her electric spear, training with a dummy.

you didn’t know how long she’d been out here, but the training dummy looked about out of comission. “d’you wake up on the wrong side of bed or did you add him to your hate list?” she halted her movements, dust flying beneath her shoes.

“did you need something, sweet thing?” and there she went with the nicknames. she knew you loved them, and she also knew you’d get tripped up by them. “so i was thinking we’d take a dip in the lake today.” and you knew what she was gonna say,

“y/n, you know i have to train today—“ “but that’s what you do everyday, clar! please? just for today?” you begged. you gave her your infamous puppy eyes, ones you knew she couldn’t turn away from. she groaned dramatically. “… you got me. i’ll meet you by the canoes in ten.” you grinned with excitement. “thank you thank you!” you kissed her cheek before running off.

she stood frozen for a second before a smile started spreading across her face. her cheek felt tingly in the spot you kissed her in.

you wore a white overshirt with a blue swimsuit underneath, paired with jean shorts. you carried a bag, sunglasses in your hair. you walked over to the lake, a smile on your face knowing you could be in one of the places you loved most.

you saw clarisse standing near the canoes watching the water. she had a towel laid out and was just taking her shoes off when you covered her eyes. “boo.” clarisse feigned annoyance, but still let a smile grace her lips.

you set down your bag on the sand, taking your shirt and shorts off. “not gonna join me, clar?” “nah. gotta keep watch, y’know, for butterflies and stuff.” you rolled your eyes with a smile before walking into the water, eventually going deep enough to wear you can float. you swam out enough for the sun to beam down on you, and just let yourself feel the water.

clarisse watched you. she loved watching you anytime, but she especially loved when you were in your environment. she took note of the smile on your face and how you occasionally paddled your hands to make sure you kept yourself afloat, although with your powers and everything, it wasn’t hard.

clarisse admired her surroundings before her eyes caught a boy staring at you — carter from hephaestus cabin. he was deeply tanned with a good build and curly hair, and had scars all over his hands and face from working on weapons for the camp.

carter watched with a small smile. he held a gold necklace in his hands, twisting them around. it had a sea turtle pendant, and it shined in the sunlight.

clarisse furrowed her eyebrows. she didn’t like what she was feeling — you were just friends, right? it’s just her being protective over you. she didn’t want you to get hurt or anything. she was sure that’s what it was.

it was a while before you decided to get out of the water. you didn’t realize how long you’d been there before noticing that it was starting to get a little cooler. you swam, then walked back to shore, but not before being stopped by carter.

to you, carter was a sweet, caring boy, just not for you specifically, because you had your sights set on someone else. he was starting to show he liked you, and got bolder as time went on. “hey, y/n. i made you something.” he told you nervously but still with a smile. he held out the necklace to you, the sea turtle shining in the light.

you let out a genuine smile before thanking him, not noticing the burning daggers being glared into the back of his head. he offered to put it on for you, so you turned and he slowly locked the chain together.

“thank you, carter.” you smiled before walking over to clarisse. you found her not so happy, actually stuffing things into your bags. “hey, clar, what’s wrong?” you reached out to touch her arm, and she pulled away like you were a hot pan burning her.

you furrowed your eyebrows in hurt and confusion. her face was scrunched up and she looked at you like you disgusted her. she shoved your bag to your chest before storming off back to the main campgrounds.

“clarisse!” you slung your bag on your shoulder and ran to try and catch to her, but she was already gone. your heart squeezed in your chest and you frowned before continuing to walk to your cabin.

a million thoughts swirled around in your head — why was she acting like this? you were just friends, right? you knew she was protective of you, yes, but not to this extent. you opened the doors to the poseidon cabin, where it was empty. you assumed percy was probably out with annabeth on a date, probably.

clarisse didn’t know why she felt this way; she hated it. she hated the way she acted when you touched her, or how she felt giddy and mushy inside whenever you look at her with your pretty eyes. she hated feeling the way she did around you, because she usually feels guilt, anger, or needing to please her father. that’s how she thinks she’s supposed to feel, how she’s wired to feel.

you make her actually feel like a good person, and she knew she impacted you with the way she acted that day.

it was later at night at the dining pavilion. torches were lit, dryads were flying around with silver platters with food, and campers from different cabins were chatting and laughing with eachother. the energy was high, seeing as there was a planned campfire tonight, with the apollo cabin leading the sing along.

you and percy sat at the poseidon table. his plate was full, and he had blue soda on the side. you gave him a small smile. “have you not eaten since breakfast?” you asked. “nah. annabeth wanted to go on a hike and i forgot to eat after.” you flicked his forehead. “why didn’t you tell me? i have a secret stash in the cabin!” you whisper-yelled. “i’m sorry!” he whined. you both laughed as the conversation flowed.

clarisse stole many glances from the poseidon table, specifically from you. despite what happened earlier in the day, you still smiled. her chest squeezed at the sound of your laughter. she poked her tongue against her lips before looking down at her plate.

it was after dinner where you and clarisse actually saw each other. she was sitting with the ares cabin, and you were sitting with percy and a couple other mutual friends. every time you looked up from the fire, there was clarisse who was staring at you no matter what. you quickly looked away every time you made eye contact.

the empty seat next to you was soon filled, but not by who you actually wanted it to be. carter sat next to, playing with his hoodie strings and smiling at you. “d’you need something, carter?” you asked. you didn’t mean to sound annoyed, but you weren’t as enthusiastic as you were earlier.

“well, i wanted to know if you were free later this week? i-i had something planned and-“ “no, she’s not free.” and standing in front of you was the woman of the hour.

you snapped your eyes up at the familiar voice. she held a glare directed at carter. before anybody could say anything, chiron announced that the campfire had to end early, seeing there was a storm starting to move in. “so, um, are you coming?” carter persisted. “i’ll get back to you on that, carter.” you gave a small smile before getting up. you shot clarisse a look before walking back with percy to the poseidon cabin.

the night was dark, and thunder started rolling in. the camp turned in for the night, all except for one. there was a tapping on your window, waking you up from your sleep. you groaned, already starting to yell at whoever it was before you recognized clarisse.

you furrowed your eyebrows, “what are you doing here?” she held her hand out without a word. you hesitated, looking back at percy to see him fast asleep. you looked back at clarisse, and she looked desperate. you slipped on your shoes before taking her hand and letting her guide you out the window.

she walked with you, out to the woods and seemingly to your secret spot, the spot that was reserved for you and clarisse only. “clarisse, why are we out here?” you asked her once you finally stopped.

your emotions were already starting to heighten, the rain slowly following. she stared at you for a second. “i’m sorry.” she apologized. “why? you left me with no explanation like i was some animal on the street and ignored me. why?”

she breathed out a heavy breath. “him.” she whispered. “what?” “because of carter!” she snapped. you were confused, “what does this have to do with him?” clarisse looked at you like she begged you to understand, like you were supposed to know why.

“because he likes you,” she put out simply, “and i don’t want him to.” you blinked while taking in her words. she was closer to you than before now, her breath on your face. she soaked you in, watching the rainwater run down your face. she came to the realization.

“i like you,” she barely spoke. “i like you, and i don’t want him to like you.” you stood in shock. clarisse liked you. she liked you back, and you had no clue. you cupped her jaw and pulled her down to your lips. it was passionate, like she would die without feeling you again. you pulled away, “so, you stormed off because you liked me?” clarisse rolled her eyes with a smile. “well, when you put it like that.”

you pulled her back with a laugh and the rain getting lighter throughout the kiss, eventually allowing the stars to shine.

[darlingbabyboo]

"What's wrong with me?"

♡ Luffy doesn't understand why the sight of you with Ace makes something ignite in him ♡

Reader is described as a girl and shorter then Luffy and Ace. Also, suspend your disbelief, timeline is not at all canon compliant. Also also, not edited in the slightest :)

Ace is being introduced and everything and Luffy is so happy

He loves his brother so much and seeing him is a dream

He's a natural charmer too, the entire crew is smitten with him

And some might be a bit too smitten with him

So rewind a bit, what exactly is your relationship with Luffy?

You're a really valuable member of the crew Luffy values you an extra lot

Since Luffy doesn't have a subtle bone in his entire body literally everyone knows that he's in love with you

Everyone except for you

Luffy might be the most obvious motherfucker but you're the most oblivious motherfucker

Match made in heaven

The crew is sick of your shit

But it's all going to be over soon thanks to a certain flame boi

Going back to Ace

When you saw Ace, your jaw dropped (and honey, who can blame you?)

And when Ace saw you, he was equally impressed because you're also quite a beauty

"I-it's so nice to see you." You can't help but stammer when you see Luffy's older brother. He's so- attractive!

"I should be saying that to you." He gives you an awards-winning smile and you try not to faint. "I love your curls."

You try to compose yourself as he leans in closer, your foreheads brushing against each other. You think- he's trying to break you. And lo and behold, his next words makes your heart skip a beat.

"I've certainly never seen such a beauty in all of the seas."

You can't handle it, your legs start to tremble, you're definitely going to fall over. You can feel yourself going...

Until, Ace wraps his arms around your waist to stop you

The crew watches the scene with a bit of amusement at the lovey-dovey scene

Luffy's not as impressed

"Ace! Let me show you around the ship." In the middle of you, pushing both of you apart (using a bit of his devil fruit to make sure that you guys stay far away from each others)

You pout, upset that your moment has been interrupted

Ace is equally disappointed

And Luffy is now filled with determination to make sure both of you never talk to each other again

"Hey, gorgeous, wanna night watch together? The stars are almost as beautiful as you."

"Oh, well-"

"She's going to be too busy!" Luffy pops in, out of nowhere. Not even remotely near you when the conversation was happening. Lying through his rubber skin because you have fucking nothing to do.

That's how all your interactions with Ace go on for the entirety of his stay

"Gorgeous, wanna walk around the island a bit?"

"That'd be great! I just need to-"

"Too bad that she's helping Sanji search for food!"

"What? No, I'll be fine. You can go with Ace if you want." Sanji doesn't want to be dragged into the weird love triangle with Luffy and his brother.

Luffy, in a shocking display, glares at Sanji and stretches to wrap his arms around you, pulling you into him. He nozzles into you, despite your gasp at the quick motion, "she'll be with me and Usopp, so she can't come with you." He sticks his tongue out at Ace as an extra measure, though his older brother only gives a playful smile.

The crew also has their own playful smiles

Luffy is experiencing jealousy so badly and him talking about his feelings is such a laugh

He tries to talk to you but he's horrible at talking about his feelings and also has such a soft spot for you that he's not match for it

"I didn't think that your brother was like that." You swoon. Luffy wonders if he's imaging hearts in your eyes. Why do you have those. Ace is cool but not that cool.

"I didn't think you would react like that." He huffs out, "I don't even know why you're talking to him this much, he likes you too much."

You laugh, thinking he's just being silly possessive like he is over the rest of the crew. "He's just being friendly. Nothing wrong with that."

"I think there's a lot wrong with that." He insists, a prominent pout on his face and arms crossed.

"Luffy, it's not a big deal."

"Yeah, well..." He trails off when you tilt up and place your hands on his cheeks.

"It's fine Luffy, don't worry." You smile up at him.

A strange feeling swarms in him. Is he hungry right now? All he knows is that he wants your smile aimed at him forever.

When Ace is about to leave, Luffy is practically dragging him away.

He loves his brother, he does, truly

Just doesn't like the chemistry that he has with you

"I'll miss you, beautiful." Ace offers you a charming smile and you bite your bottom lip, giving him a bashful look.

"O-oh, th-thank-"

"Okay, bye Ace, won't see you for a long time!"

He pushes Ace onto his boat, the crew watching in amusement and Ace laughing the entire time.

"Now you can spend more time with me again!" He wraps his arms around you, you giggle at him.

"Sure Luffy- and there's no need to be jealous- out of the two of you, you're my favourite!"

Oh, maybe you weren't that oblivious after all.

Luffy's smile widens when he hears that, hugging you tighter.

No matter what jealousies, you two will always be each others favourites ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

[strwbryien]

｢ ᝰ.ᐟ entry 03: ADDRESSING THE SITUATION⭑.ᐟ ｣

“hey, everyone. this feels... really strange to do on camera, not gonna lie. i’m used to just being a voice behind the screen, but here we are. so, um, i just wanted to address everything that's been going on.”

“i know a lot of you have seen what happened last stream, and i’m sure it was a shock. it definitely wasn’t supposed to go down that way, and i really hope i haven’t let any of you down.”

“streaming has always been something i love, and i hope this doesn’t change how you see me or what we’ve built together. i appreciate all of your support more than you know, and i hope we can keep going strong. thank you for sticking with me through this.”

kayekumi: we love you no matter what! face or no face, you're still the best streamer! ezravish: this doesn’t change anything, we’re here for you always <3 hartz4u: you’re so brave for addressing this head-on, we’re all behind you kumism: you’re beautiful, kumi!! no need to hide! da1suk4e: the real-life kumi is just as amazing as the one we knew! no disappointment at all

"wow... i don’t even know what to say. you guys are seriously the best. i was so nervous about this whole thing, but seeing your reactions just makes me feel so relieved. thank you, really. i don’t deserve you all.”

“it means the world to me that you’re still here, supporting me like this. i was scared i’d lose some of you after everything, but knowing you’ve got my back makes me so happy.”

“i promise i’ll keep doing what i love, and i hope we can keep having fun together—face or no face! you’re all amazing, and i’m so lucky to have you. thank you, from the bottom of my heart."

prev | masterlist | next

synopsis:

IN WHICH—you, although faceless, are a very famous streamer known as KUMI. you were streaming as usual, playing games and interacting with fans. but when you're about to exit the stream, you accidentally pressed the wrong button that led to you opening your cam and showing your whole face to your audience. this wasn't supposed to happen, no ! so you panicked and quickly ended the stream. numerous screenshots circulated on twitter, which broke both the fans and the internet. this reached a certain someone, SCARAMOUCHE, your rival in streaming. when the said boy saw the trending photo, he almost fell off his gaming chair. because—lo and behold! KUMI was actually [name]?! now who is this [name] in his life, if you may ask? she's the girl that scaramouche has been admiring from afar in real life! quite shocking, right? have i told you that he’s also been sending you anonymous love letters? oh well...

notes ᝰ.ᐟ

— i've been gone for so long, i feel so bad ಥ⁠╭⁠╮⁠ಥ — i honestly don't know what i was yapping about in kuni’s letter LMFAO i hope it's at least understandable — ik it's short TT, but i'm currently working on part 4 rn! hopefully, i'll be able to post it soon!

ꪆৎ taglist

(if ur @ is not in bold letters, it means that i can't tag you)

(taglist are unfortunately closed)

@imnotyizhuo @kazufavor @najaemism @simonisferal @lovelypadisarah @eternallykira-143 @yourfavoritefreakyhan @yuminako @035814 @squigglewigglewoo @lxkeeeee @blvdmrcnry @wth121 @lloovvv @3lectraheart @lovemiyae @danhenglovebot @heusalettle @automaticpatroltragedy @kyon-cherri @lalalaloveallmydays @musings-of-miss-j @ilxandra @lazy-sanns @vixialuvs @bananasquash @kochothehoe @lily-lmao @shutingstar @sketcheeee @minhosprettywife @crimxeorcremeexistspeacefully @kinanahana @featuredtofu @tamikahoshiko @jayzioxx @kleeboomed @saechiro @shyentsmissingink @poemzcheng @rifran @projectsfantasy @yejiswifex @peachystea @vi0let-writes @sicuit @hee-jinn @6blxe @viannasthings @trulyylee

[tiddygame]

ok look, my meds are making me feel Funky again but…

after soap is released from the hospital, he moves back in with his parents, everything already having been taken care of.

ghost moves in as well, but it’s a much slower and much more gradual affair.

sure, simon spent every second he could at johnnys side, but he still didn’t live there or anything. and he didn’t intend to leave his stuff behind, but he was called in for an emergency and didn’t have time to brush his teeth, much less gather his things.

and he was going to take his stuff back to his flat, but mrs. mactavish insisted that it wasn’t a problem and that it might be easier for him to just leave some stuff there for when it happens again.

and since johnny is… well… unwell, it might be a good idea to change his emergency contact too. and of course mrs and mr mactavish are more than happy to take care of it!

simon doesn’t even stop by his flat any more when he’s on leave, heading straight to the mactavish house as soon as he’s cut loose

johnny is getting better, slowly but surely. there are a lot of steps back and some days are a lot worse than others, but simon breaking several laws just to call him when he’s on a mission is a nice reminder that no, simon didn’t leave him, and is actively fighting to get discharged so they can be together.

johnny mentioned that sometimes listening to simon’s voice is the only thing that helps him sleep, so simon leaves voicemail after voicemail so that even when he can’t properly call him, he can still talk to johnny

.

mrs mactavish had been doing the laundry when they knock on the front door. she knew what it meant when the officers apologize as they remove their hats with a sorrowful look.

she was borderline hysterical, refusing to believe it. mr. mactavish tried to console her, but he wasn’t doing too great either.

they don’t know what to tell johnny. they can’t tell him. how could they? he was finally getting better and now they’re expected to tell him that those voicemails from simon are the only thing he has left?

they consider waiting until the funeral arrangements are being discussed, but they knew it wouldn’t end well. they figure brutal honesty was better than the betrayal he’d feel if they tried to keep it from him.

when they m tell him, he just laughs and says he’ll believe it when they recover the body.

his parents sigh, and nod. they figure it’s best to leave him be, at least until the funeral.

but lo and behold, barely a week later, simon appears on their porch late one night with his arm in a sling.

he was grumbling that being caught in a building collapse and missing exfil shouldnt be enough for him to be assumed dead, but is cut off when mrs mactavish hugs him.

he was surprised, just apologizing for making them deal with the whole dead/undead thing, but she was still crying and refusing to let him go.

he didn’t know what to do and just awkwardly returned the hug with one arm, patting her back as he tried to figure out what the hell was happening

it wasn’t until mr. mactavish pulled him into a hug as well, muttering something about how he’s glad simon is safe, calling him son, that he breaks.

he hadn’t had a family in so long and he doesn’t know what to do. but mrs mactavish does, saying that he must be hungry and getting him something to eat.

johnny just laughs, both at his parents for assuming he was wrong about the body recovery thing, and at simon for taking that long to realize that he’d been abducted adopted by the mactavish family, telling simon that his fate had been sealed the first time johnny brought him home

[dilfl0v3rss]

Hear me out 😮‍💨 - ony and y/n get in a argument but ony in the wrong and he look for a way to apologize

omg yessssssss bc usually we be the ones in troubleeee. i like how you thinking boo. we gon use basketball player!ony for this one since a lot of people liked it. aight so boom...

the argument

cw: smuttttyyyy

word count: 2.6k

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────

it was eleven o'clock when your boyfriend finally decided to come home. he had his duffle bag on his shoulder as he roughly kicked off his crocs at the door. you can tell he had an attitude, probably due to something that happened at practice, but so did you. it had been about a month since the the two of you have had so much as a movie night together because he's been so caught up in basketball and school. this was no where near your fault given that you've tried to spend time with him at every opportunity you had, but ony always had an excuse.

"can't mama, finna go to the weight room wit the guys." or "another time baby. coach had us running like a track team at practice." and other excuses like that caused you to stop even trying. and the worst part was, he didn't even notice. ony continued to come home late into the night because of basketball and leave early in the morning for class without batting an eye. tonight you've had enough. he promised to be home by eight since he only had practice from three to six, but lo and behold, this nigga didn't come home until eleven.

"do you know what time it is?" you stood up from your seat on the couch, placing each of your hands on your wide hips. you had to stop yourself from swinging on this nigga when you heard him mumble an "oh my fucking god" after sucking his teeth. "excuse me? you got sum to say nigga?" your were ready to scream. how could he have an attitude right now when he's the one completely in the wrong. he could've at least called to let you know he wouldn't be able to get home on time, but nooooo. he says nothing, and now he comes in the house acting like a child.

"ion got time f'this y/n. i been running around like a chicken wit its fucking head cut off all practice because niggas on the team don't know how to make simple jump shots." you scoff as you heard his excuse. "so first, you come home three hours late. don't call or text me to let me know that you were even coming late. and now, you come in here, don't even apologize, and have an attitude? that's cute. you sleeping on the couch."

your words must've set him off because ony immediately started raising his voice. "here you go wit that shit bro. the world don't revolve around you y/n." you started getting into his face. "i never said it did, but m'not finna sit here and act like ion deserve at least a little of your time. i'm your fucking girlfriend ony. don't you think it's a little odd that you be picking literally everything little fucking thing to do instead of spend time with me?" you can tell you struck a nerve when he folded his lips, looking straight ahead as if you weren't even there.

this was something ony did to keep his anger at bay since he was known to have a really bad temper. "chill wit allat cussing lil girl. m'not finna go back and forth wit you cause you being clingy." you was on ten at this point. you just told this man what he was doing wrong and all he registered from it was that you were cursing? "are you kidding me? you know what? you can have the bed. m'finna just go since m'so 'clingy'. when you ready to be a man and talk then you can call me." you went into your room and grabbed your PINK duffle bag before heading to your dresser to start packing.

ony watched as you stuffed clothes from each drawer into the bag, not even looking at what you were grabbing as tears blurred your vision. as soon as the words left his lips, he immediately regretted them. you had every right to want to spend some time with him given how much he's been neglecting you for other things. he let his stupid attitude get the best of him as soon as he walked into the door. he knew he should've apologized once he got home, but, being the prideful man he was, he decided to just make things worse by being a dickhead.

and now the woman that he loves is crying, trying to leave the house because he doesn't know how to control his emotions. before he knew it, you were at the door. holding your phone in your hand as you dialed your friends number for her to pick you up. ony listened to the phone ring twice before the girl known as eboni answered. "hello?" he wasted no time snatching the phone from you, hanging it up and putting it in his pocket. "the fuck you doing. gimme my pho-"

"you not leaving me y/n."

you looked up at him and were surprised to see water in his eyes. of course the tears never fell because ony never liked to cry in front of anyone, but the fact that they were getting to this point was surprising. you sigh calmly. "m'just gonna stay at eboni's for a couple days until you get your head right." you felt his strong arms wrap around you, holding you tightly as he spoke. "my head is right y/n. i was being selfish and stupid and prideful. i shoulda called or at least said 'sorry' when i got home, but i didn't. i called you clingy and invalidated your feelings. m'sorry furreal baby please just-....just don't leave me."

ony felt you shuffling so you can wrap your arms around him as well. the two of you staying like that for a while before you broke the silence. "i'd never leave you baby, just want you to be a little better wit your time management." he squeezed you tighter. "i will mama. i will" as the two of you loosened your grips on each other, ony lightly gripped your face in his hand before giving you a bunch of soft kisses on your lips, forehead, and cheeks. you were a giggling mess before you lightly pushed him away, making a fake serious face. "you still need to make it up t'me. what you said was mean."

a smirk crept on your boyfriends face as he led you to your bedroom. "ill make it up t'you right now baby." ony lied you down on the bed, removing his clothes until he was only left in his boxers. "take allat off mama i got sum else for you to wear." you gave him a confused look before eventually just shrugging your shoulders and removing all of your clothes. you lied naked on the bed as you watched ony pull his jersey out of his bag, bringing it to you. "put this on." was all he said before you gave him another questionable look.

"cmon pretty i wanna make love t'you wit it on." you had no idea what he was getting at, but you put in on anyways. ony was way bigger than you so the jersey was almost like a dress on you, stopping right below your ass before he lifted it up over you stomach and lied you back down. his body between your legs as he looked up at you. "ready?" his breath instantly touched your pussy, making you jump. before you could even reply, ony got to eating. he licked and sucked your clit like a starved man. long middle finger prodding at your entrance before he slowly pushed it all the way in .

your back arched off the bed as he kept sucking on your clit, middle finger reaching deep inside of you while you moaned his name like a prayer. "f-fuck onyyy" he moved his eyes towards your face, taking in your beauty before removing his mouth from your heat. "look at me baby. wanna see those pretty eyes." you slowly opened your eyes, pretty black lashes fluttering as you tried your best to focus on on him. a small smile crept onto ony's face as he added another finger into you, middle and index fingers digging you out as your eyes rolled to the back of your skull.

there's no way you could keep them open when he's making you feel this good. maybe you should get mad at him more often. your back was still arched off the bed before you felt your lover place his large hand on your stomach, pushing it down as he started fingering you faster. you felt your orgasm approaching as ony held his fast pace, licking and sucking on your clit to bring you to the edge faster. "ahghh...ohh my goddd...oouuhhh shit." you were losing it, hips fighting ony's hand as they twisted and turned all over the place. "i know mama. i know....jus let it out for me." the coil in your stomach snapped, liquid ecstasy flowing out of you and all over your mans face.

you shook in overstimulation as he kept eating without batting and eye. ony's fingers still held their fast pace as your hands flew to his head, trying to push him off and move back from him before you made an ever bigger mess. he bound both of your wrists in his hand before laying it back down onto your stomach. "stop runnin’ mama. m'not done." you were moaning so loud you had to make a silent prayer that the two of you don't wake up with a noise complaint notice on your door in the morning. "f-fuckk daddy ima make a mess pleaseee." you whined, but ony ignore you.

it actually felt like he started getting rougher. licking and sucking your clit harder while his fingers were now pounding into you. before you knew it, you were cumming again, making the mess you were trying to warn him about. you squirted everywhere from his face to his chest, some of it even running down his body and wetting up the waistband of his black briefs. ony sat back on his knees he looked down as your disheveled state. "look so pretty." he mumbled before pulling his underwear down right until his dick sprang free.

his hard length slapped onto his stomach before bouncing up and down due to gravity. doe eyes followed its movements. ony chuckled as he watched you become entranced by his dick. "y'ready mama? if its too much jus scratch my back cause m'not stopping until this this whole bed is wet." you nodded your head he lined himself up with your entrance, sucking his teeth at your lack of vocalization. "cmon baby talk t'me. you ready for daddy to make love t'you?" you look up to see his brown orbs already staring down at you. lips curved into a soft smile as he awaited your reply.

"yes. i want you t'make love to me" ony’s smile widened before he pushed himself into you slowly. eyes never leaving yours, reading your expressions to know when to stop to let you adjust. you were grateful for this because he was nowhere near small, and his girth alone would had you ready to cry at times. soon enough, the space between the two of you was completely gone. dick fully sheathed inside your pussy as ony waited for you to give him the okay to move. the two of you never broke eye contact through all of this and once you gave him a small "okay" he wasted no time.

slowly stroking you as he stared into your eyes. it was like the two of you were taking a look into each other souls. he began picking up his pace, pounding into you the way he knew you loved which caused you to tear up from the pleasure. "how it feel baby?" your back arched into him. the two of you stomach to stomach as ony intertwined both of his hands with yours. you couldn't even speak, using jumbled moans to reply. "aahghh...mmmughh." your eyes were at the back of your skull as you felt the tip his dick begin to kiss your cervix, making your legs open wider as you freed your hands from his and raked them down his back.

ony continued his onslaught on your pussy. letting you scratch up and down his back as he lied his hands flat next to both sides of your head, pounding into you harder. "mhmm sing f'me baby." you screamed as you felt your orgasm come out of nowhere. squirting once again on his dick, but he didn't stop. he fucked you through it, letting your essence splash all over your lower halves as he continued to look down at you. you were absolutely stunning. tears running down your cheeks as you looked up at him. bottom lip being tugged on by your teeth as your body jerked from his hard thrusts. "made my pretty girl cry. you should never be cryin'. daddy can't give you those babies if i be making you cry like that." he groaned before pressing his hand on the big number three on his jersey. he was so deep in you he felt the bulge he was making in your stomach under his hand.

your tears reminded ony of how you were earlier. angry and ready to leave him after he hurt you with his cruel words. he vowed to never do nothing that dumb again. "you only supposed to be crying from pleasure, never pain. m'sorry mama. s-so sorry." you began to spasm around your boyfriends dick, fourth orgasm of the night ready to come out. ony felt this and sped up, feeling close to the edge as well. "you forgive me baby?" his eyes never left your face as you whined out your reply. "i-i f-forgive you daddy. i f-forgive you." you smiled up at him, shakily putting your hand on his cheek. you caressed his dark brown skin as you felt your orgasm approaching. "i wanna cum together papa."

ony kissed into your palm before leaning down and softly kissing your lips. "cum mama. m'right there wit you." the both of your threw your heads back in unison as he gave you three hard strokes before stilling inside of you. cream leaking onto his base as you felt his hot load fill your pussy. you stayed like that for awhile, kissing each other while you caught your breath. ony saw your eyes flutter as you fought off your sleep. removing his jersey from your body before carrying you bridal style to the bathroom. he sat you on the toilet the turned on the shower. "need you to pee before i can let you get in." after you peed then the two of you showered together, ridding each others of the evidence of your earlier activities.

as you got dressed, ony changed the sheets and remade the bed so you wouldn't have to lift a finger. he then carried you to the bed, knowing your legs were probably still a little week before laying you on top of him. "mama?" he grumbled, you can tell he was getting tired as well. "hmm?" "im real sorry okay? never ever meant to hurt you." you lightly chuckled while tracing different shapes on his chest. "i know baby. and i know basketball and stuff could be time consuming and you just wanna do your own thing sometimes, but i just wish you'd give me just a little of your time y'know". ony rubbed on your lower back as he hummed in agreement. "ima do better. tomorrow i got early morning practice so im all yours after class. how that sound." you looked up at your boyfriend. he's doing better already. "sounds great."

[ba9go]

Hiiii your work is saur goood ! Can I request a BK x fem reader angsty based on this song :0 ? no nsfw just pure angsty please :’) thank chuu 🙏🏻✨

running into your ex, bakugou katsuki (angst)

thank you so much for the request! :) idk if this is even angsty enough tbh my brain juices just weren’t flowing so i just projected my deadbeat ex onto katsuki

(sfw) breakup + post-breakup, katsuki has commitment issues in this one 🙂‍↔️ bakugou katsuki x gn!reader, pro-heroes

the hero gala is in full swing, the grand hall buzzing with laughter, clinking glasses, and the soft murmur of conversations. you navigate through the crowd, your smile polite, your demeanor composed. tonight is about celebrating the heroes who protect society, and you intend to keep up appearances, no matter the turmoil inside you.

then you see him standing near the entrance. katsuki. he looks every bit the hero he’s become — strong, confident, the fire in his eyes as fierce as ever.

your heart clenches, but you force yourself to breathe, to stay calm. it’s been months since the two of you broke up, months since you’ve seen him. you remember that day all too well. the day your whole world came crashing down on you.

“y/n,” katsuki doesn’t meet your eyes when he speaks. his hands are in yours, but you feel anything but close to him right now. when he finally speaks again, his voice is rough, laced with bitterness. "we need to talk."

you tear your gaze away. no, you can’t do this right now. instead, you try to focus on everything else — the drink in your hand, the music. anything to distract yourself from the number 2 pro hero.

“what’s wrong?”you try to sound calm, but your shaky voice betrays you. katsuki’s eyes snap up from the ground to look at you, and this time you’re the one avoiding eye contact as you feel yourself start to tear up.

"we can’t keep doing this. it’s not working."

the words hit you like a punch to the gut. you knew this was coming, had felt the distance growing between you two for months now, but you’ve been trying so hard to stay hopeful. "what do you mean?"

“don’t play dumb with me. you know exactly what i mean. this... us.” he squeezes your hand once before letting go. “it’s not working."

you swallow hard, your throat tight. you finally bring your gaze up to look at katsuki, who frowns at your tear-streaked face. his expression is marred by something. maybe regret? the familiar spark in his eyes is dim, and you wonder when you last saw him truly smile.

“are you giving up?”

he flinches at the accusation. "it’s not giving up. it’s... being realistic.” you don’t respond, and he continues. “i can’t afford any distractions if i’m going to be the best.”

“is that all i am to you? a distraction?” you hate how pathetic you sound.

“it’s not that simple,” katsuki snaps, frustration flashing in his eyes. “you mean a lot to me. but this is my dream. it’s what i’ve been working for my whole life.”

“i’ve never wanted to hold you back.”

“i know,” katsuki’s gaze softens. “this isn’t your fault. this is just something that i have to do...” katsuki falters. he takes a deep breath before continuing, “without you.”

“okay," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "if that’s what you want."

katsuki’s eyes snap back to you. "it’s not what i want," he says. “it’s what i need.” he takes a step back, away from you and you grab his wrist.

“are you sure?”you ask quietly, lips trembling.

he hesitates for a moment, and you almost hope he’ll stay, that he’ll fight for you, for what you had. but then he nods and turns, walking away with heavy steps.

you’re standing by the refreshment table, sipping a glass of champagne, when you hear his voice from behind you.

"hey."

you turn, your heart pounding in your chest. lo and behold, katsuki is standing there. he’s a bit closer than you expected, you can catch the familiar scent of his cologne.

“bakugou,” you greet with a strained smile that doesn’t reach your eyes. you would be lying if you said that you didn’t relish in the way his eyes narrowed at the use of his family name.

“you call my ma and pa by their names,” he frowns. “s’weird if you don’t call me by mine too.”

“i haven’t spoken to you or your family in months,” you raise an eyebrow at him, and he nods slowly.

“right.” he clears his throat awkwardly. “so, how are y—”

“let’s not do this,” you cut him off, frowning. “i appreciate you coming over to say hi. we can stop there.”

he frowns at you. “m’not allowed to talk to you?”

“if you cared about my life, you should’ve stayed in it.”

you wait for bakugou to respond, but he stays quiet, so you turn away and leave.

taglist (thank you for your support!!): @anicaaa67 @maddietries @nemisimp @an-na-bella @valeriyaaak @buggie07 @v3n7s @deimosjay @iguanahykhv @zaiban2989 @girls-overflower @notmeduhh @dreamcastgirl99 @yoyolovesdaiki

[blorbocedes]

let me take you guys on a journey. one that will help you understand how annoyingly obsessive and hung up my brain can get......

so here is where our wild goose chase starts. I was going through a 2012 f1 blog's nico tag. it's actually pretty rare for early 2010s blogs to have comprehensive tagging systems so whenever I find one I try to go thru it all. and I come across this v cute nico image (cropped for posterity. payoff will be worth it promise)

here we have a picture, from 2012, and in classic 2012 fashion there is meme text on it. OP of the original pic deactivated. so I want to find the version without the meme text. pretty easy, just reverse google search right?

WRONG!

google reverse search is functionally dead and defunct and absolutely dogshit.

ok back to square one. I'm trying to sus out from whatever information I have.

the other meme watermark of f1humour.tumblr.com? deactivated.

okay 37 notes. maybe I can do something with this.

tumblr kind of breaks (?) with very old posts. so even if someone tagged it, I can't see it. ok but 14 people liked it!

of the 14 accounts only 7 actually show, including mine. so what I do is I go through 6 of those blogs, and their public archives because those accounts are all inactive for several YEARS now. and I check their blogs for April 2012.

no luck.

back to the drawing board.

the meme has a MOTORSPORT.COM watermark.

here's all the information I have: this was posted on April 24th, 2012, which means that's my upper limit on the date this could be taken. Nico got in Mercedes in 2010. So from anywhere between 2010-2012 motorsport images couldve taken this pic.

so, because I was born with excessive intelligence, I think hmmm... let me search the archives of Motorsport Images dot com. surely that is where Motorsport dot com would keep their Images.

two years of a racing driver's pictures means thousands of pictures. okay. let's start from April 2012. unfortch for keen eyed listening, April 2012 was also the Chinese Grand Prix aka Nico's first f1 win.

why is that relevant? because it means every photographer and their MOTHER took a picture of nico for his first win. over 900+ images.

while I am exhibiting extremely unemployed levels of behavior here, I don't actually have the time and brain capacity to sift through 900 images.

I go back to the original tumblr post. this time I go to the empty reblogs. there's lots!

but because there's no tags it can't help me. still I go through every one of them because you can see the blog I found the pic from @the-fastest-waffle is listed in the other reblogs even though they clearly had tags!

and I find my silver lining. from @fuckyeahf1drivers's tags

just this simple. #bahrain #lol

if this picture is from bahrain 2012 it changes everything, as in it narrows my search a shit tonne.

375 images. This means 1-15 pages and I know the exact picture I'm looking for. I feel like I'm SO close. I can't give up now. gambler mentality 💎

so I guess what. I go through all 15 goddamn pages. and I DONT FIND IT!!!!!!!!! SCREEEEEECH

now I've lost hope. if it's not from bahrain 2012 then it can be from anywhere from 2010-2012 taken by motorsport.com which is just too big a search. there isn't anything I can narrow it down with. my search is futile.

but I have one tiny little thought bugging my mind. how come motorsport images don't have the motorsport.com watermark... so I consult a fellow archivist @vegasgrandprix on the matter.

WE AS A SOCIETY NEED TO ADDRESS WHY MOTORSPORT.COM AND MOTORSPORT IMAGES.COM HAVE THE SAME FONT

finally. finally

I go on motorsport.com

which is actually kind of not super user friendly interface finding their pics if you have excessive intelligence like I do. I go into this knowing if the bahrain 2012 long shot is actually NOT when that picture is from, I'm fucked.

I filter and say a prayer.

and lo and behold.

salvation.

one person's singular tag of 'bahrain 2012 lol' led me down this spiral, where if it wasn't for that bit of information this would be lost forever because finding the version of the pic without the meme text is otherwise near impossible. google reverse search is no help, and f1 drivers simply get photographed way too much. reblogs + tags with context literally are a holy grail. this is what I imagine archaeologists feel like. so if you ever want someone 12 years after you've posted something to go down finding out, tag your posts accordingly (assuming tumblr survives the next decade)

so why did I do it? why did I spend hours of my life on this? cause it's fun. it's like a mystery and it itches at my skin. many times I'm not successful which is why the times I am feels so rewarding because it feels almost like detective work, finding and refinding something, overturning evidence. and I have a brain that just functions Like This.

and now for the fruit of my labour, if you guys still want to see. the picture I spent hours to find the original version of. sitting proudly at the time of posting at 9 notes 😌😌 here's what goes behind actually finding and archiving 2010s retired f1 drivers online. click below!

👇👇👇

👆👆👆

[skellseerwriting]

Golden Retreiver!Morgie x GN!Reader Oneshot!

Summary: Morgie just wants to be given praise and affection and called a good boy. His friends had been neglecting him so he goes to you to get what he craves. Being close friends with him you give him what he needs

Warnings: Morgie gets compared to and treated like a dog (in a kind way! (dw he loves it)), sfw, fluff, fluff and more fluff, Morgie is praise and touch-starved, reader calls Morgie “puppy”(once) and “sweetie”

Word Count: 1,287

partially made this for my moot @brokenmilkcrates!

Morgie Loved his friends dearly.

He loved hanging out with them, being mean to other students with them, and overall getting to tag along with whatever.

What he loved most, though, was the rare praise he received whenever he gave a good idea or suggestion. It was mostly Uliana’s praise, but the others would also give him head pats. They were his favorite things in the world.

At one point when utilizing his extensive recreations of dog howls, Hook made a comment saying he was just like a dog. At first that bothered Morgie, but after a little while he decided that he didn’t care. So what if he was like a dog? People loved dogs! So what’s so wrong with that?

Well, it did make his friends treat him a little more like one; not that he minded. The comedic realization from Hook led to an increase in affection from everyone, adding new things like scratches and offering him treats. It was a win-win, really.

The downside, however, was when it started to cease.

His contribution this past week seemed to be lacking to the others, because they hadn’t been doing what they usually did; even calling him “Good boy”! Recognizing it made it even worse because he was desperate. He craved touch. Craved attention. He needed it.

He needed you, but you had been so busy that week with schooling he hadn’t been able to rely on you.

The two of you were just platonic friends; you were amiable with the other VKs but mainly hung out with Morgie separately. Physically, however, you were a lot closer than most. Half the school thought you were dating, and the other half would think so as well if they saw how you two were behind closed doors. That boy cuddled you like letting go would kill him.

So, you weren’t surprised at all, when, studying in your dorm, a sound not unlike scratching came from your door.  Setting down your pen, you went to answer. Opening the door, lo and behold, was a crouched down boy looking up at you like some angel who had just saved him.

Your brow creased. “Is everything okay Morgie?”

He whined.

 Morgie. Whined.

Understanding the situation and wasting no time, you brought him inside, thoughts of your studies quickly leaving. Surprisingly, you saw him crawling after you like a dog with his tail between his legs.

Oh, he had it bad.

You sat on the side of your bed, patting the area next to you. Instead, Morgie wrapped his arms around your calf and set his chin right on your knee. He looked up at you with those big brown eyes of his, lips pouting.

“Ohhh,” you tutted, bringing your hand to his cheek and moving upwards into his hair. “Is puppy attention starved?”

He closed his eyes, leaned his head into your touch, and gave a double nod.

Turning to have your fingers scratch his scalp, he let out a happy little sigh.

“I’m so sorry sweetie.” You told him, like a doting parent. “That must’ve been so hard for you”. A whimper escaped him, just happy to be so close to you. To receive your touch. To be in a sort of embrace.

“Next time they’re neglecting you, you can come straight to me, okay?”

“Nhhn.” He mumbled, clutching your leg still. “They haven’t called me good boy all week.” He murmured, pitch high.

“I’m so sorry.” You told him tenderly, giving his hair a gentle tug. “You’re such a good boy.”

He whined and grabbed your free hand, pressing it to his cheek. Then, he looked up at you expectantly. His cheeks were turning scarlet, and his eyes were heavy.

“Say it again?” He said softly, breath slightly uneven. “Please?”

“Oh Morgie,” You began, thumbing his cheek before leaning closer to him. “You’re a good boy. You’re a very good boy. You deserve all the scratches and head pats.”

Morgie’s eyes made little hearts, and anyone else would swear he looked in love. You would deny such things if they were accused of you; the last thing you wanted was to take advantage of his neediness.

But you oh-so loved his neediness. It gave you nearly as much life as it gave him, which was saying a lot. Having him in your arms constantly, him desiring as much as you could give him; it made you dizzy.

But you would never ask something more from him, you thought, as he started rubbing his head into the hand in his hair. He was so pretty when he got like this, needing you more than anyone else. Than air.

He looked up at you again and darn it he made it so difficult to not give in and kiss him right there and then.

“Would you…” Morgie began, breaking you out of your thoughts. He turned bashful and looked away. “Would you give me more?” He asked, voice quiet. You weren’t entirely sure what he meant. He had never voiced a request like that before.

“Of course, sweetie.” You mumbled, trying not to let your mind go back to your previous consideration. “Whatever you need.”

He looked up at you through his eyelashes as his mouth and jaw pressed into your knee.

He mumbled something.

“Hmm? What was that?” You asked, not catching an ounce of what his said into the fabric.

Lifting his face slightly, he let out a huff. Then, he looked left, then right; avoiding your gaze out of embarrassment.

“Would you- ” He whispered, still not looking at your eyes. “Would you kiss me?”

Your heart caught in your throat and your face set ablaze. He wanted a kiss? He wanted you to kiss him? He wanted you?

Boring into his eyes that now looked at you expectingly, you could see nothing in them but what could be described as a deep, desperate desire.

Morgie suddenly lunged towards your face, pausing halfway, a question written on his own. Still, you didn’t move.

His expression shifted to something riddled with pain; he thought you didn’t want to grant his request. Thought you didn’t want him.

Letting out the tiniest noise of pain, he began to move away from you.

Realizing what he had mistakenly thought, a rush of panic filled you at the thought of not only losing him, but him thinking that you didn’t want him.

Not giving a second to waste, you grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, then paused. He paused as well, looking at you with a hopeful demeanor now. Then, he nudged forward.

You did the same.

You both slowly brought your faces closer until your noses were touching and you couldn’t see into both of each other’s eyes at once.

“I love you, Morgie.” You whispered, then pressed your lips into his. He pushed back with twice as much force.

It was everything you had dreamed it would be and more. His arms wrapped around your waist as you brought both hands into his soft, blonde hair. Not as close as you could be, but it was enough.

It was more than enough with the way he made those pretty little sighs against your mouth, more content than he had ever been. It was more than enough to him to not only have received your praise and attention, but to finally have received your lips and your love.

Giving you a kiss so deep you thought he may have melded to you permanently, he proceeded to move back a fraction for just long enough so he could go right back to getting as many kisses as he needed from you; which would never be enough.

“I love you too.”

[he-calls-me-kitten]

Playlist Drabbles #01

Writing random smut drabbles based on songs from my playlist (Solomon, Asmodeus, Mammon)

"We don't gotta be in love, no,

I don't gotta be the one, no,

I just want to be one of your girls tonight."

(One of your girls - Weekend ft. Jennie, Lily-Rose Depp)

Solomon is just happy you're here with him right now. Wrapped up only in his bedsheets and his arms. He can't sleep, no it would be a waste. He needs to cherish this - he won't have it for very long.

When you're both back home, you'll be surrounded by everyone again. He will never be your only one - not with those brothers in the competition. But he is one of the many that gets to feel your warmth and affection and for now, this is all he needs. It's more than he can hope for.

"MC? You're still awake aren't you?" He coos softly knowing you're not asleep yet either.

"Yes, just like you." You say, tracing the bags underneath his eyes with your pretty fingers. He can feel his heart melting. What a lovely apprentice he has.

"Can we go...one more time?" Slowly, his hand traces your curves, so you can refute him anytime. But you clench your thighs around his waist and kiss him on the mouth, smiling.

"I'd like that." You say coyly. His eyes darken in desire as he climbs on top of you, positioning himself between your legs. He's not the only one that does this to you - but it's just been you and him every night since you came here. He'll have to give that up soon - but atleast not yet. Atleast not tonight.

"Please tell me I'm your one and only,

Or lie and say atleast tonight,

I've got a brand new cure for lonely,

And if you give me what I want,

I'll give you what you like."

(Give you what you like - Avril Lavigne)

Asmo doesn't always like using his powers. Why did he always have to use them to make people like him? Wasn't he enough just as he was? Wasn't he beautiful?

Who else can answer him, if not the only person who doesn't get affected by his charm. "MC..." He barges into your room, desperate to be held. To be loved.

"Asmo...you're so perfect." You cradle his face as you ride him. Tears pool at the corner of his eyes, out of joy, out of reassurance along with the obvious pleasure of your walls clamping down on him.

"MC...You really mean that?" Like a wounded puppy he tilts his head to the side, intertwing his fingers with yours. He bucks up his hips upward, deeper inside you. You moan and struggle to balance yourself.

"Of course, Asmo..." He doesn't care even if you're lying at this point. It just feels good to even hear you say that. He feels so loved and ethereal as you gently press kisses on his neck and shoulders so you don't blemish his flawless skin. And he impatiently flips you around to return the favor.

"With all the lights off,

Everything is wrong, but it's alright,

Everything is wrong, but it's alright,

You're the only good thing in my life."

(You're the only good thing in my life - Cigarettes after Sex)

Mammon feels like shit some days. With his sin taking over, Lucifer's overbearing rage, his brothers' disappointment - it's all too much for him. Sick of being holed up in his room, he decides to get out of house to clear his head.

You are late that day, and he's already disgruntled about it. Maybe he'll go out and fetch you himself. Some attendant you are. They should increase your hours at HOL.

But lo and behold, there you are standing right at the door. "Hey Mammon, going somewhere?" He takes you by the hand and leaves the house. "Oi, you know Devildom like the back of your hand, don't ya? Take me somewhere new." He asks.

You take him to a hotel with a shimmering pool. He's never been here before, but he feels an odd sense of familiarity with it. Especially when he kisses you fervently, his hands practically ripping your clothes off you. He feels so much better once he's inside you.

"The Great Mammon likes this place. Bring me back here again soon." He says as he keeps driving with one hand on your thigh. His life might be a hot mess but atleast you're here. And that makes everything so much better.

[elusivecagedmockingbird]

Still Untitled

[jungkook x reader] [ 1k+ fluff]

A/N: Something short and sweet. I initially wrote a lil bit of smut, but it came out a bit perverted and I don't think it fits the character of Jungkook in this fic. I still have no title for this, but I'm so glad to receive such great lovely feedback!

Untitled

-

Before you can talk yourself out of it, your feet are walking towards Jungkook.

A breathy and meek hi leaves your mouth, the sudden greeting has him turning around to face you. Before you can backtrack, your hand extends to offer a carton of banana milk to Jungkook.

You're not sure if you're glad he's being super quiet, but wanting to get this done in one go, the words swiftly fly out of your mouth.

"I'mreallysorryaboutlastnightImistookyouforsomeoneelse," you expel in one shaky breath.

Jungkook looks perplexed, probably unsure what to make of the sudden apology, you assume. You were contemplating if you needed to elaborate, but as soon as Jungkook took the milk from your hands, hesitantly—you observed—your legs were quick to find their way back to your space and hide behind your propped up easel.

Had you stayed a second longer, you would have witnessed Jungkook break out a childish grin and blush. His hold on the carton was so gentle, one would have thought he was holding something far too fragile than a drink.

-

The class had passed quickly, which you were thankful for, for the first time. As soon as the clock hit 5:00, you rushed to bag your stuff—no plans of staying extra hours for today. You're still mortified from yesterday and while you don't think a lousy apology makes up for your misplaced accusation, you also don't have the courage of facing Jungkook.

At least, not now, you reason to yourself. Promising to scrape more courage for next time.

In your haste of leaving, you forgot to unhook the strap of your tote from the chair and as you lug your bag behind you as you speed walk, the chair topples and your things tumble out and scatter to the floor, much like the smithereens of your dignity.

A whispered curt curse is heard from you before you rush to pick up the rolling colored pencils.

"Here," Even with your head downcast and eyes glued to the floor, you know whose tattooed hands are handing your pencils towards you.

"Thanks," you clear your throat and glance at the man you wronged. "I got it," you softly say, a subtle way of shoo-ing him away, once again.

You stood up abruptly after shoving everything inside your bag. You see Jungkook lift the chair upright and thank him. You get a response in the form of a smile.

You made three streps before you heard your name called. With obvious reluctance, you face Jungkook and raise your brow in question. Afraid if you open your mouth, something judgmental comes out. Or maybe just that you choke from the clawing embarrassment.

"Do you wanna get coffee?" Jungkook adjusts his backpack on his shoulder. This time, he's taking Namjoon's advice. Just ask her to go out, even if it's just getting coffee after her class. It's a better way to get to know each other. Pick up lines are lame, his hyung said which earned a loud yelp of disagreement from Seokjin. Still, Jungkook thinks Namjoon made more sense.

Plus, he remembers those times whenever he sees you on campus, you always held a cup of coffee. And today, before class, he noticed you had nothing with you other than milk—which even turned out to be for him. He'd get all giggly later, for now, he has a bigger daunting task.

Throughout the class, Jungkook was internally hyping himself up to ask you for coffee. He almost felt pathetic when he saw you quickly pack your things and rush out, already thinking he'll have to run after you. But lo and behold, the universe bought him time.

"I-It's kinda late for coffee, don't you think?" You covered your uneasiness by clearing your throat and pretending to look at your watch. It was too quick of a glance to read the time, he notices. He knows you're evading him. Panic rushes into Jungkook. While on good days, he prided himself for thinking on his feet—those days helped him win rebuts with Seokjin—this moment would have been the one time where the words he uttered couldn't be more nonsensical and embarrassing, "Well, drinking coffee before bed will keep you awake at night is a myth, anyway." The words trailed off one by one as it reached the end, but you heard him loud and clear.

You were to quick to mask your visible confusion by pursing your lips, as if considering what he just said. But Jungkook knows how stupid he sounded. There was no redemption from this.

But just when Jungkook was ready to wave the white flag, he heard you snort a laugh. He looks up and sees your lips break out in a grin—one you tried to hide with an adorable nose scrunch, but your amusement still shone through with a tight-lipped smile. Then, finally, you look at Jungkook and this moment, he'll forever remember because you're looking at him with adoring eyes.

"Fine, then," you agree, lips still toying an amused smile. "Since you're so desperate for coffee you're making stuff up. But I'm getting a decaf."

Your turn and walk towards the approaching evening, and Jungkook follows suit with a lovesick smile.

-

"Wait... you thought I was Kim Jongkook?!"

You sheepishly smile, your fingers on the table scratches the surface, an anxiety tick. But you also look like someone desperately digging for a hole where you can escape to. You want to be away from this awkward confrontation where you have no excuse, no rebut.

“It really was an honest mistake. I’m sorry for lashing out on you.” Your head hangs with shame as you apologize for the nth time.

Unbeknownst to you, Jungkook noticed and took note of your tick. He really was just teasing you, enjoying your adorable puppy eyes, even more so that it's directed towards him. But perhaps, he had his fun. He smiles and comforts you—saying it’s fine and he understands. Right as you look up at him, your names are called for your ordered coffees.

In the same breath which he decides he wants to always be this close with you, he's also unsure how much he can hold back from wanting to just kiss you. And so, as much as Jungkook didn't want to break away from the moment, he stands from his seat, “I’ll get it. Just… you won’t leave, right?”

You would think he was teasing, making a jab from the couple of times you walked out from him, but seeing his pensive eyes had you retracting your assumption. “I’ll be here,” you smile reassuringly.

-

Your trip for coffee, but as per Jungkook's delusion—your date— lasted longer for hours. Small conversations were shared between the tiny round table that held your cups of drinks. No more hole-scratching on the table and downcast embarrassed eyes.

Jungkook thinks his heart may burst from happiness.

Unfortunately, your phone pings, breaking the bubble that enclosed you and Jungkook, one that temporarily kept you away from the outside noise. “Oh, sorry. That’s my alarm.” Your eyebrows furrow as you glance at your watch. This time, really looking at the time, Jungkook observes.

“I should be somewhere now, actually.” As you quickly gather your things, Jungkook matches your pace—grabbing your littered cups and tissues on the table, picking up the proof of your shared evening.

“This was really nice, Jungkook. I now partly feel bad for judging you too quickly,” you tease as you watch him trash the stacked cups.

“That’s not good enough,” Jungkook crosses his now free arms, biceps bulging that were not missed by your eyes. He sees the trail of your sight and that was just what he needed to be confident enough to ask for another coffee date. One that you agreed to without hesitation.

He grows giddy and excited. Wanting tomorrow—Thursday—to come sooner. He doesn't mind if the day ends quickly now as you part ways. And it isn’t until you round a corner that you both stop turning around to check on the other.

-

[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.

[fortuna-et-cataclysmos]

In defense of s5 finale

I hear and see a lot of people expressing dislike of the season finale, some also in the tags and comments of my analysis/speculation posts. So I wanted to further expand on this.

Gabriel's victory -being remembered a hero despite everything wrong he did, especially abuse to Adrien- has left a sour taste in many people's mouth; many blaming the scenarists and not shying away from calling it "bad writing."

But I think that that was exactly what the scenarists wanted to do? The perfect world Gabriel leaves behind is unsettling, unfair, and I think that the creators have done their best to show that implicitly but clearly. I think that we are supposed to be irked by the finale.

Why do I think that? Because there were a lot of small things that gave the message that, as @emsylcatac iconically put it, "this is the bad place." I touched upon some of those in my previous post on how this was a victory for Gabriel and Lila, and a defeat for Ladybug. I'll try to list them more clearly here.

Gabriel a hero

This is the one thing everyone has the most problem with. At the end, Gabriel was declared the hero who gave his life to defeat the Monarch, who was none other than himself. Some artistic choices here are so over the top that I believe they were specifically made to irk us.

If the silver statue itself wasn't enough, the exact quote of Caline Bustier is:

All the rings that have been highjacked by the Monarch have been recycled into a statue in honour of the great Gabriel Agreste.

Then Tsurugi Tomoe goes on to say:

Beyond the visionary entrepreneur and genius creator that he was, we are celebrating a hero today.

See, everything bad about Gabriel has been flipped. If you count literally exploiting people visionary entrepreneurship, sure, he was that. And genius? He couldn't get the miraculouses of two teenagers for an entire year despite having all the resources, and he ended up succeeding only with the help of another extremely powerful person (Tsurugi Tomoe) and even then he ended up dying himself.

As of creator, he was literally a destructor. He destroyed Paris more times than anyone can count, and everything was fixed every time only thanks to Ladybug. Let's not also forget how he destroyed the Miraculouses to exploit their power.

Adrien's comment about his father

This is another thing many people have had problem with. It is so outrageous that I won't believe the creators would expect us to take at face value.

At the end, Adrien acknowledges that his father died to take down the Monarch, and says:

I don't know if one day I'll manage to become like him.

Lo and behold, the man who had emotionally neglected and abused his son to no end has turned into the said son's hero and role model. Adrien not only looks up to him, but also wants to make an active effort to become like him. Hell, he even doubts if he can be as good as him.

No way this line can taken at face value. There are many children's shows with abusive parental figures nowadays (like She-Ra and the Princesses of Power, the Owl House) that have all handled the conclusion to that abuse generally well. The watchers' expectations are high in this respect; the scenarists would know that such conclusion, if not ironic, would not satiate the expectations of the spectators.

Lack of accountability: Gabriel and Tomoe

As many many people have pointed out, the general lack of accountability in this season finale is infuriating. So Gabriel mentally tortured THE ENTIRE WORLD POPULATION and not only never faced consequences in life, but also is remembered as a hero in death?

What about Tomoe?

Not only she has not faced any repercussion for being basically a supervillain, but also she is still a respected public figure who can go and make a speech backed by the mayor, in front of the freaking French flag. If that doesn't irk you, I don't know what will.

Worse is that, she goes as far as saying in her speech that:

I'll make sure to continue his legacy.

So she'll continue to be evil. Great hint that she'll continue being an antagonist in season 6.

As you can see, the new world that has been created is extremely unfair and problematic. No way this can be "the good place," an actual "happy ending."

Everything is fixed! No problems anymore!

Also, you'd realise that the world is perfect, a little too perfect. It is like a green utopian dream.

Caline Bustier has been the mayor "only for a few weeks" (direct quote from the episode), and she has already fixed all the problems possible in Paris. Not only that, she has also solved inequality and class struggle (again, mentioned by herself). Let's make Caline the President of the World already.

Funny that LITERALLY ALL THE PROBLEMS of a city could be solved, while the exact same episode showed Majestia, the freaking Supergirl of the ML universe, acknowledged in her nightmare that:

Even with all my superpowers, I'll never manage to solve all the problems of the world.

Well, Bustier says that she has no superpower, that people working together can accomplish that. Kudos to her and her democratic spirit. But like, perfect city in a few weeks? Even Mayor Bourgeois who wanted to send all the trash of Paris to space would realise that that's impossible.

There is no perfect solution, yet the world is perfect

Ladybug acknowledges that there is no perfect solution to Gabriel's situation. Trying to bring back his wife, he has caused irreparable damage to himself and to Nathalie, effectively leaving Adrien an orphan. He still hopes that Ladybug can fix it all. But she can't because of the nature of the wish: for one thing gained, another thing should be lost. In Ladybug's words:

There is no perfect wish. Every time a power is used for personal gain, it causes catastrophes. (...) We'll find a solution, but it will never be as perfect as one would wish.

Interesting, given that the world ends up being completely perfect?

All the problems are solved, literally everyone is happy, Marinette and Adrien are finally together. But the wish was made for personal gain, no? So where are the consequences? Where is equivalent exchange? The catastrophe, the price of the perfect, green, just world? I think we'll see that in season 6.

The dream world

The new world is seriously giving me weird vibes. Like it is a movie set. For those who have watched The Good Place, you'd know how in the town everything feels a bit too bright, artificial, perfect. I get the same vibes from the post-wish world.

The Agreste mansion is covered by green vines?? Way to hide the atrocities that were planned and happened here.

Here is a screengrab I found on the internet from The Good Place (the ladybug is a funny coincidence lol)

I am getting the exact same vibes!

Also, I have expanded on that in my post on "running out of time" theme, but basically in the ML universe usually the "real" stuff are associated with the night and the rain while things that happen in the sun turn out to be fake or erased/forgotten. So the feeling that I get from this finale is that, this new "perfect" world is not genuine; that the seeming happiness it brings will be soon destroyed (I doubt erased), just as it happened in other fake reality episodes like Chat Blanc, Ephemeral, Oblivio, or Jubilation. As I argued before, this is not a permanent victory. Hell, it isn't even a real victory, not with the secret Marinette is left to keep from Adrien.

Not a real victory

Another thing that makes me think that this ending is not genuine is the lack of Chat Noir in the finale. Yes, I am a fervent Ladynoir stan who was hoping for some Ladynoir action (if not reveal) and was hugely disappointed by the lack of Chat's engagement in the final fight, but now that I think of it, this may have been on purpose.

Notice how in Conformation, Ladybug says:

Our only way to win against him is to fight him together.

And yet, soon thereafter, she is catapulted into a fight with the Monarch.

Notice also it wasn't her choice to unify the miraculouses and face the Monarch alone. She had to, because Chat Noir wasn't there.

Let's remember that this show spent the entire season 4 explaining how Ladybug assuming all the responsibility alone leads to disaster, how she needs Chat Noir to share the burden with him.

Let's also remember how in season 5, especially at the beginning of it, we see Ladybug change her behaviour towards Chat Noir: she gives him more responsibilities (the Bunny Miraculous, the identity of certain holders if I am not mistaken), and how at one point she confesses that Chat Noir has been very serious and responsible lately (and then promptly develops a crush on him).

So taking on the Monarch herself is really against everything they have built up in season 4 and the beginning of season 5. That's why I think that this "victory" is so wrong: it was "won" only by Ladybug. Maybe if Chat Noir were there, he would have prevented the Monarch from making the wish (hypothetically, then we would have an entirely different timeline). If his identity were revealed the way Marinette's was, Gabriel could have controlled him through his amok. In any case, their defeat or victory would have looked very different from this.

In the end, we must remember that this world is far from being a victory for Ladybug: she has, after all, LOST. She couldn't stop Gabriel from making the wish. And while this world looks perfect, and we got what seems like a forever happy after ending for Adrinette, their happiness is set in a non-genuine victory and world.

So I think we shouldn't be angry with the show-runners: there is a reason why this ending feels and is wrong. If it were all wonderful, it wouldn't be the season finale. It would be the finale, period. And I believe that everything that has been disturbing us in this season finale will be addressed, if not consist of the core conflict of season 6. Let's all take a deep breath and turn to fan fiction or fan art till we get the new season now :) (at least that's what I'll do lol)

[bonniesfamiliar]

DIMENSION TRAVEL STORY IDEA: Summary: Harriet "Harry" James Potter has travelled to an alternate dimension during a spell gone wrong (Kreacher's actually responsible cuz he cares about Harry since she's the Lady of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black) Harriet knows it's an alternate dimension cuz she finds a newspaper stand and lo and behold, who's on the front cover? Tom. Fucking. Riddle. But not the ugly Voldemort Tom Riddle she killed. No this is young Tom Riddle who grew up FINE AS HELL.

And he's on the front page cuz he's The Minister of Magic and guess what he's talking about.

Dumbledore.

He's talking about Dumbledore.

And not manipulative gramps Dumbledore whose beard is longer than my hair.

No.

We're talking about this one

You know why he's talking about this Dumbledore?

Because Albus. Percival. Fucking. Dumbledore decided to become the epitome of "Be Gay, Do Crime," with Gellert Grindelwald, his husband.

DUMBLEDORE IS A DARK LORD WITH HIS HUBBY

So Harriet is obviously freaking out and does the right thing.

She goes to a pub and drinks her sorrows away in Scottish Whiskey, (Thank you, Minny)

But Harry never makes reasonable decisions so when she finds a quill and paper, guess what she does.

She writes to Misinter Riddle.

But the drama doesn't end there.

Whenever Harriet does anything, whether she writes or talks about Tom Riddle, she doesn't speak in English.

She talks in Pareseltongue.

(Cuz she and tom are the only Parselmouths. I think.)

So Parseltongue.

Harriet writes in parseltongue to the Minister of Fucking Magic on his wrongdoings in her universe.

The letter literally looks like this:

ssss ssss sssssssss ss ssssss s sss ssssssss ssssss sss sss ss ssss ssssssss ssssssss ssss ssssss sssssss ss ss sssssssss and that transcribes to 

"Dear Lord Voldemort, or should I say Minister Riddle, you are an ugly noseless hairless evil snakey bastard in my dimension,"

and cuz she's spiteful, she signs it off with "You-Know-Who"

But the thing is Harriet never mentioned her name or who her parents were.

So when Minister Riddle receives this letter, he freaks out and then does everything he can to find this person.

Not to kill them.

But to woo them.

This kind, thoughtful person has travelled from another dimension just to stop him from becoming evil.

AND THEY'RE A PARSELMOUTH.'

THEY'RE OBVIOUSLY HIS SNAKE MATE. (cuz he killed all of the Gaunts and Riddles so they're not family)

You can bet ur ass he was squealing to Nagini at the thought of having another Parselmouth in the world with him.

He's obsessed.

(He's not tom riddle if he doesn't have possessive issues and his jealousy issues are just as bad.🤭🤭🤭🥰🥰🥰😩😩😩)

Like it's not a want.

It's a need.

He needs the writer of this letter to be with him forever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and-

You probably get the idea.

Anyway, 1 year goes by.

Tom Riddle: I MUST FIND THIS PERSON AND MAKE THEM MINE

Harriet Potter: *forgets about even writing the letter* 

Tom is growing more obsessed as the days go by and then he meets a woman at a charity ball held for idk an organisation for potieneers? Potion Masters?

She's chatting up with Lord and Lady Dagworth-Granger cuz she's been working with them cuz they remind her of Hermione and she needed a job.

Anyway, he approaches the couple in hopes of talking to them and Harriet sees Minister Riddle approaching and quickly moves away to head to the drinks table.

And then lets out a breath of relief when she realises he wasn't heading for her.

She schmoozes for a few more minutes before calling it quits and heading out for fresh air.

The party is at the Dagworth-Granger's manor so she goes out to the gardens.

And hears a cry for help.

Her Gryffindor instincts push her to run towards the sound of danger.

But her Slytherin side made her hide behind the wall from where the cry of help had come from.

It was a witch being harassed by two wizards.

One of the wizards was holding her wand, taunting her.

While the other had begun to take off her outfit.

Before it could go any further, she brought the men's attention to her and with a flick of her wrist, Harriet had the men on their knees.

She then walked over to the one holding the witch's wand and grabbed it out of his hand, accidentally snapping his wrist in the process.

She gave the witch her wand back and accepted the shaky hug she received.

Harriet waited until the witch was out of sight before she turned to the men and smiled, watching as their faces fell into horror as they saw the fangs in her mouth.

(I'm in love with the prompt by a post on tumblr where  Basilisk!Harry is hugging Kneazle!Hermione and Dragon!Ron also wants his cuddles. I can't find the person who made it but I've lived by the idea that these would be their animagus forms if they ever performed the spell like James Potter, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew had done to become illegal animagi for Remus Lupin)

Harriet rips into their throats, feeds on them and then turns their bodies into ash with the fiendryfire spell.

She grabbed a mirror from her purse to erase the blood from her face and clothes and began to walk away lest anyone come looking for the wizards.

But, Harriet suddenly slammed into what felt like a wall.

A very warm wall.

Regaining her bearings, Harriet looked up to notice that the "wall" was MINISTER RIDDLE.

AND HE WAS HOLDING HER ARMS.

"Minister Riddle, what are you doing here?" She said pasting a smile on her face.

Shift of POV:

Minister Riddle internally sighed at being stuck in another ball instead of being at home, analysing the letter once again.

He was certain it was a woman who sent it as there was a red lipstick kiss on the paper after it was signed sss-ssss-sss (You-Know-Who)

His thoughts are cut off when Lady Dagworth-Granger asks her husband where Harriet is.

Who is Harriet? he muses but when Lord Dagworth-Granger offers to look in the gardens, Tom leaps at the chance to run away from the party.

He goes into the gardens aimlessly walking around for a few minutes, lost in his thoughts of his mysterious parselmouth when a witch comes out of nowhere and collides with him.

He uprighted her by placing his hands on her arms and looked on curiously as she seemed to freeze in place when she looked up to see that it was he she bumped into.

Tom Riddle is the one to freeze when she speaks.

"Minister Riddle, what are you doing here?" She says an innocent smile on her face as if she had no idea his whole world had just flipped on its axis.

Parseltongue.

She's speaking in parseltongue.

She's his parselmouth.

The one from another dimension.

But he had to clarify so he replies honestly for the first time in his life, in parseltongue, "I've been looking for you," 

"Searching for me? Whatever for?"

A boyish smile widens on his face before he forces it into a polite smile.

"The Lord and Lady Dagworth-Granger have been searching for you, Miss Harriet I believe you are?" He reverts to English to test if she notices the change but she doesn't.

She just replies in English, "Ah, I see. I disappeared for too long with my break from the stuffiness of the ball and yes, I am Harriet."

Harriet, he muses in his mind, no last name to give for me.

She extends her gloved hand for him to shake but Tom riddle reaches for both of her hands and turns them over to kiss them gently and forces himself not to give into the urge of nuzzling into her hands (well not yet at least) and without letting them go, he straightens to his full height to tower over her (giving him a thrill at knowing she was shorter, meaning he could easily pick her up and carry her, be it over his shoulders or bridal style) and replies, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Harriet. No last name?"

(Harriet has been wearing gloves cuz of the 'I must not tell lies' scars that cover her hands.)

Harriet smiles teasingly towards him and his cold heart thaws ever so, "I couldn't decide on a last name and I've decided I like the mysterious aura it gives me,"

Or maybe she couldn't risk using her real last name because she was from a different dimension, Tom muses in his mind, Nevertheless, Harriet Riddle has a lovely ring to it.

Harriet Potter: *staring confused at Tom Riddle as he smiles down at her

Tom Riddle: *Winter would be a lovely time to get married, wouldn't it?

I'm stopping here cuz it's a summary, not a story. Yes, I'm Evil.

Tell me if you like it tho.

I was this close *makes an inch between her fingers* to making this a Soulmate AU story.

Think of the angst that Harriet would go through all her life knowing that her soulmate's words to her are:  I've been looking for you

And it's an alternate hotter version of Tom Riddle, AKA THE BAD GUY WHO MURDERED HER PARENTS 

And think of how Harriet's words had motivated Tom his entire life to do his best to work hard (and cheat death) to live long enough for his soulmate to see him one day at a place be it a library or a gala or a hallway and ask him: Minister Riddle, what are you doing here?

Huh.

Maybe I should make them soulmates.

I need a timeline. fuck.

Um.

Riddle was educated at Hogwarts from 1938 to 1945, and was sorted into Slytherin House, a nod to his ancestor Salazar Slytherin.

Making Tom 34 cuz 1927 is the year Tom was born in if he went to Hogwarts in 1938 which would make him 11 in 1938 and 38-11 is 27 so 1927 is when he was born.

61-27=34 so Harriet is in 1961 but cuz of the time skip tom is 35 years old in 1962

Harriet was born in 1980 

The Second War technically began on 24 June, 1995, though was not officially announced by the Ministry until nearly a year later on 17 June, 1996, and ended on 2 May, 1998, at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, after the death of the Dark Lord.

Which made Harriet 18 in 1998, 24 in 2004, 24 in 1961 and 25 in 1962

 but she deserves peace so the year Kreacher sent her back was 2004 which would make her 24 cuz he's horrified that she hasn't attempted to romance anyone since Cedric Diggory.

Tbh, if he was my bf I would never love again.

But then hubby "I would burn the world down for you and rebuild a new one from its ashes" tom riddle is here and I'm like Cedric who?

But none of them compare to (long list of titles, I'll research later.) Harriet James Potter.