#but nero still reading him like an open book

[literallyjusttoa]

Realizing I also want to keep track of the songs Apollo mentions, so I'm gonna go back real quick and mention "You Send Me" by Sam Cooke, released in 1957, which he mentioned in chapter 2, and "Rise to the Sun" by Alabama Shakes, released in 2012, which he mentions in the opening of chapter 10. Listened to them both, and honestly, they're both great songs! And Rise to the Sun actually fits Apollo really well, I was genuinely surprised.

Going back also makes me realize that Apollo was going to sing an honest to god love song to stop Cade and Mikey. That image will stay with me for years, I think.

Rhea is described as dressing like a "Libyan queen of old" which is interesting, bc I couldn't find any reference to Rhea being an important figure during the period where Ancient Greece had footholds in the region. What's interesting though, is that Apollo definitely was. One of the two cities Greeks established in Libya was Cyrene, and some myths even call the native Libyans the founders of both Delos and Delphi. So like, I have no idea where Rick got the idea of Rhea being connected to Libya, but it helped me learn new things, so that's cool!

Another anecdote: When Apollo drives the sun chariot as a bus, Hermes always sits in the back, because that's where troublemakers sit.

The way Apollo describes his physical state, I'm convinced he's just constantly in excruciating pain. Like, all he does is get off the cot in the Apollo cabin, and he says that his "eyes felt as if they were being microwaved in their sockets." Bestie, what? Are you dying, wtf lmao?

Anecdote: Apollo once attempted target practice in Zeus' throne room. That feels like it might have been a more pointed thing.

Apollo sees Nero in his dreams for the first time in chapter 10, but he doesn't recognize him yet. He spends the rest of the chapter simply referring to him as "The man in the purple suit", "The ugly mauve-suited man", and simply "the ugly man" King behavior, honestly.

I know I made a post about it a while ago, but I still can't get over Apollo's outrageous claim of 33 mortal girlfriends and 11 mortal boyfriends. He has past that in Ancient Greek lovers alone lmao.

Rick does a really good job of writing these long flowing internal monologues for Apollo, only to cut them off with a short sentence that both allows for an easy transition out of Apollo's head and back to the action of the scene, but also simulates Apollo getting distracted in his own ramblings and then abruptly coming back to reality. Like, he goes on for three paragraphs about Nico and will, and then his past loves, and then his embarrassment over sharing his love for Hyacinthus and Daphne, only to end it all off with the short line "I am so confused." and then we're right back into the scene. It's a really great comedic bit, and it does wonders for Lester's characterization. (Also my god does Lester read so much like he has ADHD. Almost more than Percy to me, but then I think Lester's flavor of ADHD is much more similar to my own than Percy's is)

Anecdote: Apollo cosplayed Rocky at midnight showings of Rocky Horror Picture Show. Queen.

Apollo mentions that he filmed the orientation film on "a tight budget in the 1950's" which like, why? Maybe it's mentioned in the supplemental books somewhere, but why would a god ever be put on a budget for something lmao?

"Had I been a god, I would have turned her into a blue-belly lizard and released her into the wilderness never to be seen again. The thought soothed me." One, Apollo she is twelve dear god. Two, I love this as a character moment for Apollo (Stay with me here). Apollo comes from a culture that is so focused on strength and power and violence. The moment he loses control of a situation, he grasps for any way to get power back into his hands. And in these moments, his way of giving himself power is by reassuring himself that he could totally murder everyone here if he wanted to. Killing people is a way to assert control, it's a way that Zeus and the other gods assert control all the time. And there's an implication with Apollo using these lines too. By asserting that he can kill people, it's also an assertion that the people he is threatening cannot kill him. Idk it's just a very interesting way of coping.

Real quick fun fact! Lester describes the Oracle of Delphi in Greece as a "cavern filled with volcanic fumes" but that's not actually 100% correct. The oracle of Delphi in Ancient Greece was actually in the Temple of Apollo, with descriptions from ancient scholars putting her either in the cella or in an adyton that was below the main temple. There was a opening in the ground in this chamber, but it certainly wasn't a cave. Furthermore, the whole idea of Apollo fighting Python in a cave? From what I can tell, this is also not based in myth! Most descriptions of the fight between Apollo and Python that I can find in myth describe Python being coiled around the mountains of the Parnassus range, which is a terrifying image honestly. Just find it interesting that none of the cave stuff is actually a part of the Delphic Oracle. I mean, from what I can tell, the nearest mythologically important cave is the Corycian cave, which has nothing to do with the oracle and is also like a 45 minute drive away from Delphi.

I usually try to read three chapters before rb'ing, but I had so many notes on these two that I'm gonna cut it off here. Also, this has kind of just become pointing out shit I find interesting instead of focusing specifically on Lester-isms, but I'm def still gonna point those out, so the tag will stay. I just have so much to say about my little blorbo, sorry guys.

I think I'm gonna make a reblog chian of all the little phrases and Apollo uses throughout ToA, now that I'm rereading it. Bc like, he has such a unique way of speaking, and I really wanna dig into it, you know? Ok let's start.

He says "heavens help me" instead of "heaven help me" using the plural the same way demigods do with "oh my gods". I'm guessing this is an acknowledgment of other pantheons? Or I'm looking too far into it, I've just never heard this phrase with a plural "heavens" before.

He calls Cade and Mikey "Ruffians" . And he makes fun of the arrow for being Shakespearean.

He also refers to people as "Mortals" a lot here, which I remembered him doing, but now I want to keep track and see if he keeps that up throughout all the books, or if it peters out near the end.

"I thought how amusing it would be if I could make the snake tattoos around his neck come alive and strangle him to death" I honestly love how violent Apollo's thoughts can be sometimes. Like, you can tell he's someone who has done shit like this before.

I also want to keep track of all the little anecdotes Apollo brings up, so we'll start with the guitar contest against Chuck Berry in 1957, which apparently ended with him getting repeatedly stomped on.

"But something told me this was not she" II love how it's the little things that really get across how old Apollo is. Rick could've easily just said "It wasn't her" or something, but instead he had Apollo phrase this in a way that is far more formal, and more reminiscent of the grammatical patterns of old english. Idk it's just really cool.

(Side note that's not connected to Apollo: Meg's glasses are black? I feel like I've been living a lie, I've been coloring them red for years lol)

God his metaphors are just so striking. Like, I can imagine the phrase "Whatever was left of my pride turned into ice water and trickled into my socks" but I don't want to, because that's such a visceral feeling. I like that Apollo inadvertently proving how poetic he is by making the reader as uncomfortable as possible.

I think I'm gonna start crying out "Horrors!" when I'm upset to. I think I deserve that level of drama.

ahh the classic "My blessings upon you!" Again, I love how every little line characterizes him. Either it's overly formal, like before, or subtly arrogant, like here, or both. It's so fun.

I need to write him saying "Sacred Sibyl!" more. Because that is such a fun little term. Rolls right off the tongue, honestly.

I think I'm gonna leave it there for now, but trust that I will definitely be adding more to this later. Bc Lester-speak is so fun to really look into.

[loosesodamarble]

Welcome to the Black Bird Part 16: Ivan's Fantasy

Summary: Introducing Kirsch as Ivan, one of the cafe's bussers. He may not have the spotlight on him at work but he has dreams. Genre: general Word count: ~800 A/N: @mikuyuuss is the artist for Kirsch's piece.

..........

Kirsch had always been likened to a budding cherry blossom. Delicate. Beautiful. Full of potential. And yet destined to fade away.

It was tricky becoming a model in that day and age. Both fashion and the internet moved fast, meaning Kirsch had to put in considerable work to track the trends in both and maximize his use of what was popular to gain attention. All for the sake of reaching his goal of becoming a professional model.

But the dream eluded him.

“How has no agency taken you on yet?” one of Kirsch fellow online influencers remarked during a group call. “I mean, you’ve got the looks and are super popular online. So what���re you missing?”

“I truly don’t know,” Kirsch grumbled while looking at his most recent rejection email. “At this rate, I’ll have to find a…” He shuddered. “Regular job.”

The other members of the call let out groans or gasps of shock.

“You’re too good for menial labor though!”

“I know!” Kirsch replied. “It’s terrifying to think that I might have to, ugh, wash dishes…”

“Actually… There might be some hope,” someone chimed in. “I heard this rumor that some recent models on the scene got scouted from a place called the Black Bird. The cafe is famous for its hot guys apparently. So, like, maybe give that place a try?”

Kirsch pursed his lips, not liking the idea of having to wait tables. But if the rumors were true…

.....

Not even a week into working at the Black Bird, Kirsch experienced his first lunch rush.

“Ivan!” “Alexander” rushed past Kirsch with trays in both hands. “I’ve got two tables to clear!”

“Isn’t Nobu supposed to be clearing your section?” Kirsch called after only to be ignored as the butler was booking it across the dining room.

The butlers were struggling to keep the flow of orders steady while also interacting with guests in the manner expected of their personas. Kirsch heard how the kitchen was at Hell’s edge trying to keep up. And the bussers were working up a sweat cleaning up tables and preparing them for the next group of customers. 

I’m not made for this kind of work, Kirsch lamented as he carried his tub for dirty dishes over to “Alexander’s” section of the dining room. It’s always hurrying from one place to another. Dealing with messes. Getting pushed around…

It was certainly a chaotic shift.

When a young lady was backing away from bumping into a butler, she was about to bump into an empty chair that had its back to her. But Kirsch was able to use his foot to turn the chair so she stumbled into the seat rather than potentially knocking it and herself over.

Kirsch saw two of the servers walking paths that would cause them to collide between two tables. And so he had to pull one aside and direct him to take another route. In fact, he subtly went to each butler and suggested they all make an effort to walk the floor clockwise so everyone was moving with the same flow.

A table of rowdy youths had almost nudged a stack of dirty dishes over the edge of their table. Kirsch noticed in time and lunged to catch the plates. He walked away with a sprained wrist but smiled nonetheless because he knew he’d averted a greater disaster.

And once the cafe slowed down, Kirsch overheard a particular conversation.

“That was probably our smoothest lunch rush.”

“Think we got lucky?”

“Nah… Luck that good doesn’t exist.”

.....

Blooming Greens. A salad made from vibrant vegetables like purple cabbage and yellow peppers as well as different colored pansies.

“So what do you think?” Secre asked as she and Kirsch sampled the dish.

“It’s as elegant as the rest of the establishment,” Kirsch remarked. “And I love the flair with the pansies.”

“Mm, yes. It appears dramatic and frivolous on the surface…” Secre stood from her seat as she spoke. “But there’s more to it than looks. You know, Kirsch, your good judgment and instincts are attractive qualities. If you let them show more, I think more opportunities would arise for a model employee then.”

Kirsch blinked as Secre walked past him with a smile.

“Just some food for thought.”

Left alone, Kirsch looked at the remains of his salad.

The dish was a treat visually to be sure. But it appealed to the palate as much as it did to the eye. Earthy, sweet, and a bit peppery, the flavor profile created by the combination of ingredients was made so it wouldn’t be in need of additional dressing. Though, the option for it was always available. And it was a filling meal on top of it all.

Kirsch had some thoughts to chew on…

[danieyells]

@2flowerz also asked for Lyca so

NOW WITH 100% MORE DOGGO LYCA. HE IS DEFINITELY A HUMAN AND NOT A WEREWOLF. He is trying very hard to be a human. I love him very much. . . .

Hello: (the first time the game is opened after that character is set as home screen NPC. Only happens once per day, unless the character is switched out and back.)

"...You again. Where're we going today?"

You've Got Mail: (whenever there's something in the inbox, usually Arena rewards)

"Hey, you got letters. Don't you have to read them? Oh, don't you know how?"

he understands if you can't read, man. neither can he.

Default: (requires no affinity, has no time constraints)

"You smell sweeter than usual today... Stop. Go away."

after learning that the pc is going to turn into the anomaly that cursed them any sort of 'you smell nicer than normal' feels like such a threat lmao

"You want to touch me? Fine. Ten seconds and that's it."

that is more than enough my good sir

"When I find Neros, I wanna prove I've been getting along with humans. Then he'll definitely let me live with him."

considering he related the term 'neglect play' to what Neros did to him. . .I'm not so sure. . .and if Neros was as old as he sounds like he was, I wonder if he's even still alive. . . .

"Hey! Moth-eaten Casanova! Where'd you go? I'm gonna show you my special move today."

"special move" in Japanese is 「必殺技」 or 'lethal move'/'killer technique', usually unique to a person or fighting style. Not sure if he wants to show Ed how cool he is or try and kill him lmao--

"This phone thingy they gave me keeps making noises and making me jump... Why do I gotta carry it everywhere? It's scary!"

Affinity 1: (between 5am and 11am)

"Mnn... Let me sleep... Don't touch me... Zzz..."

Affinity 2: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Laws, school regulations, anomalous law... Manners, morals, rules... How're you s'posed to remember all that?"

man i wish i could tell you. . .i've mostly got the morals in order, that's basically just 'don't do harm to others' when you get down to it. laws are about 50% 'don't do things that may endanger you or others' and 50% bullshit. the rest you're kinda on your own with.

Affinity 3: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"Urgh... My skin's crawling... Moon must be gettin' round soon..."

Affinity 4: (between 8pm and 5am)

"At first I was sad 'cause I got put in a different house to Suba, but all kinds of stuff happens here every day so it was fine."

awww he was sad because he doesn't get to see Subaru as often but he's not bored so it's alright! glad he's comfortable ;u;

Affinity 5: (between 8pm and 5am)

"H-Hey, don't come so close! Somethin' about your scent makes my stomach feel weird!"

WE'RE ONLY ON AFFINITY 5 DUDE YOU CAN'T BE CATCHING FEELINGS THIS EARLY it's probably because he's scared of girls or something lol

Affinity 6: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"I didn't do anything wrong! Those guys were saying mean stuff about me 'cause they thought I couldn't hear. All I did was yell at them."

I hate how they won't even let Lyca defend himself verbally. . . .

Affinity 7: (between 11am and 4pm)

"I don't mind classes. The teachers say cool stuff. Once I learn to read the textbooks and the notes and the blackboard it'll be perfect."

HE'S GONNA BE SUCH A GOOD STUDENT WHEN HE CAN READ???

Affinity 8: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"There was this big noise in our practical class and my ears popped out. Everyone ran away screaming. Damn it..."

wow they're cowards if the ears alone scared them. . .how're they supposed to deal with anomalies if that scared them!?

Affinity 9: (between 8pm and 5am)

"This? It's a picture book, duh. How come you don't know that when you're a human? I study with it before bed, everyone does it."

I wonder who made him a picture book of all the things he'd be learning as a first year to study with. . . . . .or maybe it's just a generic picture book lol

Affinity 10: (between 10pm and midnight)

"This blanket's not trash, it's just dirty. I can't sleep without it, so hands off."

he really loves that blanket huh. it must be one of the only things he had from his childhood or from being looked after by neros. . . .

Affinity 11: (between 5am and 11am)

"What's a "so-shul skill"?  That blond gigolo was talking about them. He said I don't have any. Is that a good thing?"

he's got social skills!! Just. . .not very human social skills!!!

Affinity 12: (between 11am and 4pm)

"I'm starving... I wanna eat Sho's food, but I can't order it without Suba... Wait, you can read, right?"

Lyca slowly realizing how many people he knows can actually read and thus can help him with placing orders for delicious foods--

Affinity 13: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"That moth-eaten Casanova's in his room all day so I tried to take him for a walk, but he locked his door and ignored me. The hell?!"

LYCA CONTINUES TO SCRATCH AT ED'S DOOR COME FOR WALKIES ED!!!!

Affinity 14: (between 5am and 11am)

"That stupid blond gigolo ran off with my blanket. I'm not done sleeping yet..."

tbf your blanket is filthy. . .and I get it, it's what you've got and it smells familiar but. . . .

Affinity 15: (between 5am and 11am)

"I can't get back to sleep... I'm gonna wake up that moth-eaten Casanova for a walk."

lyca is a dog scratching at your bedroom door with his leash in his mouth like 'yes it is time for walkies now rise human'

Affinity 16: (between 11am and 4pm)

"The teacher asked us to name an anomalous plant you can eat but when I did he said humans can't eat it. So what? I can, so I'm not wrong."

I AGREE WITH HIM HE SHOULD NOT GET THAT MARKED WRONG. if you only want a human applicable question say 'humans' not 'you.

Affinity 17: (between 10pm and midnight)

"In the last place I never knew what time it was and I pretty much just slept all day. Now I gotta get used to having a "roo-teen.""

Affinity 18: (between 8pm and 5am)

"I'm drawing. If I draw all the good stuff and bad stuff that happened every day I won't forget about it."

if he could write he'd keep a diary but since he can't write he's keeping a picture diary. . .and he's a really good artist according to his character story, so it's probably a pretty faithful recreation of whatever happened that day. i'd love to see his picture diary. . . .

Affinity 19: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Huh? The blood on my bed? ...It's nothing. Don't touch my stuff, you're gonna get your smell all over it!"

WHY IS THERE BLOOD IN YOUR BED, BUDDY. ARE YOU OKAY??? IF YOU ATE SOMETHING IN BED THAT'S FINE I JUST DON'T WANT YOU TO BE INJURED. . . .

Affinity 20: (between 5am and 11am)

"...Did you cry? Your scent is all squeezy. How come?"

smelling you sad makes him sad too so tell him why you're feeling sad and he can make the sad go away?

Affinity 21: (between 11am and 4pm)

"I wanna go to the cafeteria, but the teachers won't give me my pocket money. They said I'll get "spoiled." The hell does that mean?!"

GIVE HIM SOME MONEY SO HE CAN BUY FOOD???? HE NEEDS TO EAT????? HE'S BUSY WITH CLASS SO HE CAN'T GO ON MISSIONS YOU CAN'T JUST STARVE THE BOY????

Affinity 22: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"That moth-eaten Casanova told me humans like it if you ignore them sometimes. Something about playing hard to get? I'm gonna try it tomorrow."

I wonder if that has anything to do with Subaru's home screen chat where he wonders why Lyca hasn't messaged him back. . .he's trying to play hard to get because he thinks it'll make Subaru like him more. . . .

Affinity 23: (between 8pm and 5am)

"I'll stay here and be quiet at night, even when the moon's not round. 'Cause you're tired, aren't you? Go sleep."

even if he doesn't have to stay or even if he wants to make lots of noise, he'll stay and be quiet so it's easier for you to fall asleep. He won't be loud and you don't have to worry about him! so sleep tight!

Affinity 24: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Sleep here. Huh? Is there a law that says we can't sleep together? There's not, is there? Hurry up and lie down."

it's pretty much innocent. . .he just wants you close by. . .being able to smell you while he sleeps would probably make it easier to fall asleep. . .feel safe and familiar and everything. . . .

Affinity 25(max): (no time constraints)

"I'm gonna work hard... I'll gonna work so hard, they're gonna say I can live with humans forever..."

Lyca, despite being a werewolf, is a lot like Kaito in that he just wants to be a normal human. Except he never started as a normal human, so he has a bit further of a distance to go to become one. . .he's not a dog, he doesn't wanna be a pet or an animal or anything like that. He wants to be a person like everyone else. But it's hard when others reject him, and when everyone says they think he's too dangerous even when he hasn't done anything wrong. Other ghouls--other humans--do way worse stuff than he does, and yet he's still held to a higher standard. It's not fair. But he's working as hard as he can to catch up. . . .

Spring: (March-May) (between 5am and 11am)

"That blond gigolo tried to wash my blanket! He's never coming in my room again!"

he does not like spring cleaning--

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Lately there's flower smells everywhere, but sometimes there's one that kinda smells like you."

IT'S GONNA BE HILARIOUS IF THE ANOMALY THAT CURSED YOU HAPPENS TO LIVE IN OBSCUARY'S FOREST. . .LIKE YEAH IT'S JUST OUT THERE IT WAS ALWAYS ON CAMPUS IDK WHAT TO TELL YOU WE COULD'VE BEEN WORKING ON THIS CURE BEFORE YOU GOT IT.

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Harurin kept nagging, so I went to the safari park. Not gonna lie...it was super fun."

I love that Lyca uses the nicknames Rui uses for some people lol and I bet he loved running around Jabberwock!!! All that fresh open air and the wildlife. . .he's a wolf at heart really and truly.

(between 8pm and 5am)

"Cherry blossom petals are super fun. They're like, whoosh, then they fall everywhere. I wish our house had some."

Summer: (June-August) (between 5am and 11am)

"Urgh... My head...it hurts... This? It's shaved ice. The blond gigolo told me to eat it so I don't get "heat eggs-aw-schun.""

oh buddy you're eating it too fast. . . . . .

(between 11am and 4pm)

"I was just in that moth-eaten Casanova's room and it was so cold I thought it was gonna snow! Is he secretly a yeti?"

okay it was only 63 degrees in there it wasn't THAT cold Lyca.

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"I'm gonna go practice swimming at Harurin's place. Can you do other stuff besides doggy paddle?"

I can't swim at all so. you are miles ahead of me my friend.

(between 8pm and 5am)

"I know I said I always wanted to do sparklers, but... you sure this's okay? I thought we're not s'posed to play with fire!"

canid instincts are kicking in--fire BAD and SCARY and DANGEROUS. ABORT MISSION.

Autumn: (September-November) (between 5am and 11am)

"I just tried to join in with some guys playing with a ball, but they said I don't know the rules and told me to go away."

THEN TEACH HIM THE RULES god they're such jerks around here.

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Blond Gigolo was makin' this massive fire near the garden just now. It smelled all burnt and sweet... Is that some kinda ritual?"

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Finished my picture. That Romi guy who comes to the bar all the time said he wanted one, so it's for him."

Romeo does like fine things. This just goes to show how good of an artist Lyca is! I bet Romeo's gonna frame it and put it somewhere people can see lol or maybe just keep it in his room. . .that or he wants to see if he can get him to make a forgery and profit off poor Lyca--

(between 8pm and 5am)

"Moth-eaten Casanova said humans like looking at the moon... D'you get sad if you can't see it?"

Winter: (December-February) (between 5am and 11am)

"I'm gonna go play at that big ice castle after class! Huh? 'Cause playing in the snow's fun."

THE FROSTHEIMERS BETTER NOT GIVE HIM TROUBLE LET MY BOY RUN AND ROMP IN THE SNOW!!!!!!!

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Mm, I don't really feel the cold. Humans get warm when they run around too, don't they? Race you over there! "

he is having so much fun in the winter ;;;;; just running around and playing. . . .

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"My fingers have been gettin' all tingly and stiff and my hair's all crunchy! What's up with that? "

maybe playing in the snow a little too much lol--

(between 8pm and 5am)

"How d'you drink hot drinks so quick? They always burn my tongue... Huh? Dogs have sensitive tongues? I'm a wolf, not a dog..."

His birthday: (April 19th)

"Oh right, it's my birthday. Neros told me my mom wrote down the date."

Your birthday:

"It's your birthday, right? No, I only know 'cause that blond gigolo was yelling about it. ...Here's your present."

I bet he drew something really nice or found you something really cool ;3;

New Years: (January 1st)

"Hope you have a happy and prop...props... prosp...prospinous? new year... Damn it, I practiced that for ages..."

Valentine's Day: (February 14th)

"Oh, thanks. Professor Nicolas said I can't eat chocolate, so I'll give it to Casanova and Gigolo!"

why would you even risk giving him chocolate in the first place lmao. . .also in Japanese he says "I'll share with those two idiots" instead of "casanova and gigolo" lmao

White Day: (March 14th)

"This is for you. I dunno what kinda stuff human girls like, but Suba helped me pick it, so it's prob'ly fine."

Subaru knows girls' tastes is Lyca's logic I guess lmao Subaru is a lil on the femme side comparatively--

April Fool's Day: (April 1st)

"Why's everyone being so mean today?! Telling lies and laughing at me... They're all jerks...!"

please explain the day to him. . .people are mean enough to him as it is. . . .

Halloween: (October 31st)

"My ears and tail are out? I know, I'm doing it on purpose. The moth-eaten Casanova said it's okay today."

THE ONE DAY HE CAN BE HIMSELF IS HALLOWEEN BECAUSE NO ONE WILL THINK ANYTHING OF IT. . .they'll just think it's a cool costume or maybe a fox robe! And he'll get candy for it!!!

Christmas: (December 25th)

"Hey, look! When I got up this present was next to my pillow! Santa really came..."

WHO TAUGHT HIM ABOUT SANTA. . .AND WHY. . .then again Romeo said Santa's reindeer is real so. . .it probably isn't actually harmful to teach him about Santa since Santa's probably somewhat real here. . . .

Idle: (about 20 seconds without interacting with the game) (below 13 affinity)

"...I'm going for a walk."

(13 affinity and above)

"Hey, you alive? Huh, you're breathing so I guess so."

Absent: (logging in for the first time in 2 or more days?)

"How come you stopped coming? Do you hate me? It made my heart all squeezy, so don't do it again."

oh no sweetie. . .sometimes we just have to take care of things and disappear without wanting to. . .sometimes life gets in the way instead of finding away. . . . . . . .

JUST. . .SWEETEST OF SWEETHEARTS. HE'S SO CHILDISH AND ADORABLE AND SWEET AND GOOD. . .I WILL USE MY TEN SECONDS OF PETTING TIME WISELY. He really does try harder than anyone, he's so determined and I believe in him so much. I want my boy to be happy.

[twiixr4kidz]

had a specific vision of giving the members of la squadra hugs......... have me being sappy over my boys

shoutout to those of you who followed during my naranchuu days when i was just a jjba blog LMAO (when my requests open back up please send me jojo asks i miss writing for jjba) (also assume that sorbet and gelato are still together in this i just wrote them seperately for the sake of giving them personalities outside of each other)

risotto nero:

a hug from the capo is a special thing to get.

they're suffocating in the best way from just how tall and strong he is

he'll let you bury your face into his chest as his fingers run through your hair

he always smells so comforting; he smells like home

some of his hugs will be coupled with a kiss on the forehead

others will be coupled with a "you're alright, i've got you"

prosciutto:

he says he's not a hugger, but the fact that he indulges so often says otherwise

prosciu's hugs are tender; so impossibly calming, you could melt in his arms

he keeps a hand resting on your lower back, the other running through your hair

he smells like fancy wine, expensive cologne, and cigarettes

he rocks you back and forth, telling you how much he loves you and appreciates you

pesci:

although nervous about them, he's such a huge hugger

he's big, warm, and so fucking cozy

pesci truly gives some of the best hugs imaginable

he hugs you to make sure you know you're safe with him; he'd never let anything bad happen to you, and if something bad DID happen, he'd make sure it'll never happen again

his fuzzy coat is just a plus!! take advantage of it and nuzzle your face into it, he thinks it's adorable

formaggio:

he's a big hugger, and all of his hugs feel almost playful

he likes to jump out at you and tackle you to the floor, peppering your face with kisses as he tickles your sides

formaggio hugs you a lot for his own comfort

he likes to shrink you down when he hugs you - it's like he's trying to swallow you whole

he's always so warm and cozy, and you if you aren't standing up, you'll be able to fall asleep on him

illuso:

believe it or not, he's shockingly clingy.

yes, he's a giant, cocky asshole who thinks he's better than everybody else. no, he can't get enough of your touch. those concepts can coexist...................

he likes to pop out from behind dark corners and wrap his arms around you tightly

illuso will bury his face in your hair, mumbling what you can only assume are compliments that he's too embarrassed to say out loud

his hands press tight against your sides, thumbs rubbing small circles on your waist

melone:

he gives some of the most comforting, genuine feeling hugs

sure, he might seem a little creepy on the outside, but he can read you like a book

he'll come up from behind you and wrap his arms lazily around your neck

"come here, tesoro. i know you need it."

and he's right damn near every time

sometimes he'll give you a gentle kiss on the cheek before wandering elsewhere

other times, he'll drag you to the couch and force you to cuddle with him

ghiaccio:

he's not good at hugs; he gets nervous and then he stiffens up and freezes

ghiaccio gives you the biggest hugs when you come back home from rough missions, though

his arms wrap around you tightly, face buried in your neck as angry worries pour from his lips - he thought you were a goner

he's scared that you're going to disappear on him, but hugging you makes him feel better

he's nice to hug in the summer months when the heat's getting to you

he's always nice and chilly and if it's you asking, he's happy to oblige (but he'll never say it)

sorbet:

similar to risotto, sorbet's hugs feel like he's suffocating you

he's built like a fucking wall; tall, broad shoulders, wide chest, very muscular

his hugs are few and far between, but he always hugs you like he's trying to kill you

he likes when you're giggling over being stuck in his arms, playfully scratching him and begging him to let go

he gives you a tight squeeze before letting you go, ruffling your hair before wandering off

gelato:

he gives some of the most playful, gentle, warm hugs you could ask for - ironic for such a cold-hearted killer

he likes picking you up and spinning you around before pulling you into his chest

he'll tickle you side with one hand while the other arm stays wrapped around your body so you can't escape his torture

he also likes to bite :3 every hug comes with a little nip on your neck just to hear your squeal

he drags you to cuddle with him after every hug though - you're just sooooo cute and cozy, he can't help it

[vinnytotherescue]

Hello! Can I request a drabble in which the reader is very affectionate with V’s familiars (kisses and pets) and how he would react to it? Thank you so much!

i love this so much! we are just going to ignore the fact that I just learned that Shadow is a male...How did i not notice while playing-_-

also, Shadow i only focused on griffon and shadow hope you don't mind!

warnings: none pure fluff

V x Reader: Cuddles with the familiars

Being V’s significant other ultimately meant being able to tolerate two seemingly dangerous and overly protective familiars. That made V very anxious since he knew that not a lot of people would be able to handle such creatures. Their dark nature always scared people away. Yet you were not scared, you were fascinated. Somehow, you could even say that you had some kind of invisible bond with both Griffon and Shadow. From the moment you met them you fell in love with them and they with you, V never understood that but he nevertheless he was very grateful. 

Opening the door to your shared apartment you were faced with a silent V reading his book. Two seconds passed and before you could properly enter you were tackled down by shadow, griffon flying right next to your head. V turned his head to observe the scene, something that would occur every time you would return from work. But still it wasn’t something you could get used to. 

“Took you long enough huh (y/n)? Shadow got worried over there” Shadow just gave Griffon a death stare and continued laying in your lap. V had gotten off the couch by now and was standing next to you with a smirk on his face. 

“Griffon don’t be mean to Shadow, or we both know where you will end up” A giggle left your mouth and you turned to see and extended hand waiting for you to take it.

“I see, i think they like you more than me” V pulled you to your feet and you wrapped your arms around his waist , burying your head in the crook of his neck. 

“That’s not true and you know it” The room filled with your giggles as you stared into V’s green eyes. After detaching yourself from him you dragged him back to the couch this time your head in his lap. Your head was pounding like crazy from the intensity of your day at work and the only thing you could think about was how you were going to relax with V close to you. 

“Hard day at work?” his velvety voice was so soothing to your ears after the screaming and yelling in the office. Nero and Dante were a handful to manage. Your body curled closer to his as you nodded and you could feel your muscles relax as he stroked your head. A small smile found its place on your face as you felt something warm curling on your legs. You slightly raised your head and was faced with a sleepy Shadow. 

“You are sleepy too my boy?” you pet the huge jaguar as he now lay still on your legs, his dense fur  providing warmth to your tired body. Griffon felt left out completely so he came and took his usual place close to your chest, your arms slowly curling around him, careful not to hurt his beautiful wings. V could feel his heart warm up at the sight. He never expected this turn of events, he was beyond relieved that you three were so close. You always wanted some kind of a pet and V having two familiars was just perfect. 

Kissing both Griffon and Shadow on their heads you felt your eyes become more and more droopy as time passed by. 

“Don’t I get a kiss?” V stared at you his eyebrows raised from the lack of attention from you. You turned your head toward him mouthing a soft sorry in your way and placed a kiss on his cheek. After seeing his deadpan expression you tiredly giggled again and gave him a normal kiss on the lips. 

Your lips parted and you just went back to your original position, one arm hugging Shadow and one hugging Griffon.

“Want me to read you a bit?” You quickly nodded your head at the suggestion and closed your eyes enjoying his smooth voice filling the room. 

“I love you all” 

The words slowly started to merge into one and your breathing slowed down as you surrendered to dreamland.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

thank you for reading!! ;)

[vergiltopia]

Some of my Vergil headcanons

just random headcanons about anything <3

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

★ Vergil likes to leave gifts on places he knows you could easily find, like over the table, over your bed, in front of your door. He'll always do it before he's gone for a mission, and when he's back, will casually ask while you're talking to each other, “did you like the roses?”

★ Physical touch to him is something very intimate, no hugs or something like this unless you're close to him, he watches over his personal space.

★ Still talking about physical touch, there's nothing more intimate than holding someone's hand, this means how comfortable and close you're and how much you trust this person to let your guard down to relax and hold hands. Touching hands it's like a bridge to connect yourself with someone else. Also, this means he would love to caress the back of your hand, trace the patterns of your palm, kiss it...

★ Eye contact is also very important to him, it's noticeable how hard is for Vergil to keep eye contact on casual situations, even though he's trying his best. So when those crystal clear blue eyes are locked on yours, he won't take them away unless someone else appears, eye contact is powerful and can talk more than words.

★ He loves to do cleaning, taking off his coat to wear an apron instead.

★ When hugging, he'll place one arm around your waist while his free hand gently press your head to his chest, peting your hair.

★ Secretly sings his favorite songs when no one is around.

★ Organize his books by alphabetical order.

★ Definitely would use those silk pajamas sets with buttons.

★ About Vergil's phone: the brightness will always be too high or too low, the speakers are probably low cause he was watching cute and funny cat compilations on the van and he didn't want to bother, definitely there's a lot of accidental selfies he took by opening the camera and the ringtone is LOUD, really loud (he doesn't know how to change it properly and is ashamed to ask Dante or Nero since they'll probably make fun of him).

Plus: use a lot the thumbs up emoji after someone complained he only views the messages and doesn't say anything, so he started to use the thumbs up as a reaction.

★ He likes to make his tea the old way, doesn't like tea bags.

★ Call anything technological a "device" since those things are new to him and he's learning the names and how they work. “Nero, come here, my device is broken again.”

★ The only time you would see Vergil with his hair down is when it's wet or if he's too tired to groom it (like, can't even keep his eyes open), if not, he'll always groom his hair to make it look the way it is, he's a man of routine (and also it makes him look different from his twin, so that's why he isn't going on public with his hair down).

★ He loves classical music, but that doesn't mean he isn't open to discover new genres and tunes.

★ Vergil used to make dog ears on the pages of his books when he was a kid to continue reading it later, but he noticed it crumples the paper so stopped doing it.

★ He is extremely warm because of his demon nature, just like an walking oven baking cookies, that's why cats are always attracted by him, there's often cat fur on his coat, probably Vergil faced a kitten on the streets and it started to butt the head on his legs to feel his warmth.

★ Always have a pleasant smell, unless when he's back from a mission, that's why he takes so long in the bath.

★ Loves citrus fruits.

★ Vergil takes a lot of pictures of the sky and nature, he treasures them and shows to the ones he treasures the same way.

★ Won't tell anybody if he got hurt during a mission, waiting for it to heal by itself (this also happens if he get sick).

★ Heard Dante listening to dad rock once, after that he tried to listen to a couple of songs too and started to like it.

★ Knows a bit of Latin from old books he read once.

★ Vergil is passionate and enthusiastic about the things he likes, he can spend hours talking about it with that glimmer he has on his eyes when happy.

★ The same way he likes someone to listen about his interests, also likes to be the one who listens to it from others, he's a very good listener.

★ One of his hobbies is writing his own poems on yellowed rag paper with a feather pen (things he like to buy with his money), he keeps them hide inside a little box.

[lexsssu]

Soft (Vergil)

TAGS: Vergil/Dragoness!reader, smut, breeding, pregnancy, heats/ruts, oneshot Ao3 ver. | Ko-fi | Commissions (OPEN)

“Moooooommm, my hair’s already okay as it is. You don’t have to keep grooming it!”

“Hush, darling. Mother knows best and if I say that your hair needs to be groomed then it means that it needs to be groomed. Now, stay still and let Mama fix you up~”

Nero grumbled and pouted, but simply allowed himself to become limp in your grasp as you combed his snowy locks for him, a bright red blush lighting up his cheeks that were yet another feature he’d inherited from his father. To be honest, Nero took mostly after Vergil in terms of looks, but he was definitely more expressive than your mate.

“...’m not a lil kid anymore…”

“Regardless of how old you are, you will always be a child in my eyes, Nero. I bore you into this world with my body and nothing can ever change the bond between a mother and her child” You smile and nuzzle the top of the young man’s head, inhaling his scent while bathing him in your own, draconic instincts, particularly your maternal ones, overflowing as you carried another babe within your belly. 

“...Just let your mother be, Nero. Once your new sibling is born she won’t be babying you anymore,” said Vergil eloquently as he sat on his favorite armchair, reading through a well-worn poetry book and looking like painting straight out of a Victorian-era portrait.

“Your father is just teasing you. You’ll always be Mama’s darling boy~” You giggle and place a kiss on your son’s forehead, watching gleefully as his cheeks turn an even deeper red from your affections.

Though seemingly minding his own business, Vergil always had his eye on you both even as he read the ever so familiar words upon the inked pages. There is a softness in the blue of his eyes that is hidden from the world outside of your cozy little home. 

A softness that is reserved only for you, his mate, and all your offspring...and maybe Dante when the devil hunter wasn’t being an absolute insufferable moron.

It’s amazing how meeting you had allowed him to see the world in a different light. To rediscover parts of himself that he’d long thought to have died off on the night his entire life had changed forever and molded him into a man fraught with only the ambition for power.

He could still remember that moment so clearly, as if it happened just yesterday...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Do you need some help? You looked like you had quite the fall from so high up…”

The eldest son of Sparda blinked, a rare look of incredulity on his normally impassive face as he stared at the small hand being held out to him and the young woman who owned it. 

Mundus’ grotesque form lay upon the blood red ground, a mass of flesh with hundreds of hands sticking out of him that would have struck fear in the hearts of most living and undead creatures. However, the Prince of Darkness was obviously deceased as he lay immobile, gaping wounds and terrible gashes littering his foul body as if his opponent had just tore through him without mercy.

“...Do you know that thing? It kept yapping ever since I dropped in here kinda like how you did and well...I just wasn’t really in the mood to deal with the monologues so I took him out of his misery,” you chuckle at the young man’s astonished expression, quite liking how expressive his reactions were despite having only just met him.

“So ummm...do you wanna go to the throne room with me? That thing’s lackeys said that I should sit on the throne to make my rule as their new boss ‘official’ and well, I dunno about you but any place is better than kneeling on the wet ground”

Still flustered with the turn of events, Vergil could only wordlessly nod and before he could get up on his own, you grasp his free hand and pull him up with surprising strength.

“Great! Since you’re new here too, we both can get a tour of the place!”

The katana-wielder would have normally pulled his hand back by now in disgust and or disdain, but strangely enough he didn’t mind how your utterly warm and soft hand clutched his own. Your hand is so small that he could easily cover it if he took the initiative to do so, but he found himself both reluctant to move and content with...whatever this was.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Darling, please...fuck me open. Mate me. Breed me…!” You whine and whimper as you sway your hips tantalizingly, looking back at Vergil who’d activated his Sin Devil Trigger form with complete want and adoration. Everything about his current form aroused your most primal side, wanting nothing more than to have him fuck you until were bow-legged and undeniably swollen with his potent seed.

Though he couldn’t speak up in this form, the low grunts and the way his scaled hands took handfuls of your backside as he pressed his equally demonic-looking cock into your weeping slit had you keening and sighing as he sunk its entire length in one thrust. 

As Vergil had his way with your equally enthusiastic self, you couldn’t help but smile stupidly as thoughts of the future filled your mind. Specifically, the pitter-patter of little feet that would undeniably become an absolute reality soon enough, especially as you feel the base of your mate’s cock inflating in order to lock himself inside your willing cunt.

You always did like the name Nero...

[pascalhowlett]

Ethereal Chapter 6

A/N: SORRY FOR THE LATE UPDATE LIFE GOT IN THE WAY :/ There is SO MUCH MORE from where this came from! I know this is slow burn kinda but I promise we are getting closer to the *spicy* stuff.

If you prefer to read on AO3, that can be found here!

Warnings: Mentions of r*pe, implied r*pe, graphic depictions of violence, major character death, smut

Summary: After the Roman Empire takes over Numidia, Cecilia is purchased by Emperor Geta as a pawn in his attempts to take over Rome. What will happen when she meets General Marcus Acacius, the soldier who was responsible for the death of her lover, Atticus Claudius?

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x Original Female Character

This is Chapter 6! Find the rest of the chapters on my Tumblr here!

Word Count: 3k -ish

At dawn, Acacius led Cecilia to the library that was attached to the palace. The morning light spilled softly through the corridors, but instead of escorting her to the usual alcove, he brought her there.

“The orders for the day—the documents—should be on the scribe’s desk,” Acacius explained.

“Where is that?” Cecilia asked as they paused their footsteps outside of the library entrance. 

“In the corner, with the scrolls,” he replied, glancing around warily. “You must go alone. It will look suspicious if I’m seen inside.”

“Why would it be suspicious for you to be in the library?” she asked, frowning.

Acacius hesitated, his expression hardening for a moment. “Because I’m not meant to handle such matters. My place is elsewhere, and questions would follow. Yours, however, is less constrained—use that to your advantage.”

Cecilia studied him for a moment, her frown deepening as unease settled over her. Still, she nodded, stepping toward the grand oak doors of the library. Acacius lingered just out of sight, his posture rigid, as though he were ready to attack anyone who dared to hurt her.

The library was silent, the kind of stillness that only indicated trouble. Shelves towered around her, their contents a treasure trove of knowledge and recent decrees. The faint scent of parchment and ink hung in the air, but it did little to soothe her. 

A fire should strike this place, she thought, Rome could start anew. 

She moved quickly, her steps muffled as she winded down the different aisles of books. The scribe’s desk was easy to spot in the far corner, a cluster of scrolls and papers spread out haphazardly. Cecilia hesitated, her eyes flicking toward the door as though expecting someone to burst in. When the silence held, she forced herself forward.

Her fingers skimmed over the papers, her pulse quickening as she searched for anything bearing the signature of her cynical husband. Finally, her hand stilled on a scroll sealed with wax, the names on the paper ironically written in red ink. Gaius Tiberius, Quintus Publius, Aulus Servius, Caius Nero, Manius Cato. Five innocent men signed away to death…just to make a statement. 

She slipped the scroll underneath her gown, her movements quick but shaky. For a moment, she paused, ears straining for any sound beyond her panicked breathing. Satisfied, she turned and began retracing her steps toward the exit. Her pace was measured, her nerves taut like a bowstring. The door loomed closer, the hallway beyond promising a return to relative safety—

A creak.

Cecilia froze, leaning against a shelf as she caught herself. She held her breath, her ears straining. The sound came again, soft but distinct, from deeper within the library. She glanced over her shoulder, her heart hammering. Was someone else there, hidden among the shelves? Or was her mind conjuring shadows out of fear?

Shaking her head, she made a beeline for the door and gripped the handle, pulling the door open just enough to slip out. Acacius was waiting, his eyes scanning her face.

“Do you have it?” He asked in a low whisper.

She nodded, keeping her voice steady despite her unease. “No one was inside. But I heard... something.”

Acacius stiffened, his gaze darting toward the library. “We need to move. Now.”

“Five men,” she said as they reached the alcove, her voice steady but laced with urgency. “Five men will die today if we don’t stop this.”

Acacius took the scroll from her trembling hands. His fingers were rough against the delicate parchment, and his expression darkened as his eyes scanned the names:

Gaius Tiberius, Quintus Publius, Aulus Servius, Caius Nero, Manius Cato.

She saw the moment the meaning of those names sank in, his demeanor changing to one of pure rage. His shoulders tensed, and his breath came out in a sharp exhale. His hand clenched the scroll so tightly the wax seal cracked and fell away. When he spoke, his voice was low, as if restraining himself from a deeper reaction.

“Three of these are my men,” he said, his tone sharper than she had ever heard. “Men who’ve served loyally, with honor. And the other two…” His jaw tightened as he turned away, pacing in the small space. “Elders. Respected men who dared to challenge the council’s growing corruption. This isn’t justice—it’s slaughter.”

Cecilia sat heavily on the stone bench, overwhelmed by the weight of his words. She pressed a hand to her forehead, her voice barely above a whisper. “Why? I do not understand…why these men?” 

“To send a message.” He stopped pacing, sitting next to her and holding his head in his hands. “The soldiers are expendable to them, scapegoats to spread fear. The elders? Their deaths will silence any who might follow their example. The elders, they trained me, made me who I am today…”

She looked at him, startled by the intensity of his anger. His face was a mask of fury, but his eyes betrayed something deeper—grief. She’d seen Acacius upset with calculated actions, but she realized his rage was a weapon as sharp as any blade. This was different, heavier than anything she had seen from him before.

“You blame yourself,” she said softly, the guilt practically seeping through his skin.

He stiffened, his gaze snapping to hers. “Of course I do. They’re my men, Cecilia. I should have seen this coming. I should have protected them.”

Cecilia scooted closer to him. The anger radiating off him was palpable, but she placed a hand on his arm, her touch light. “This is not your fault. They just want to kill anyone to make a statement.”

For a moment, he said nothing, his jaw clenching. He could not bring himself to look at anything but the floor beneath him. Then, slowly, he exhaled, his shoulders slumping. When he looked at her again, the rage was still there, but it was tempered by her gentle touch, her soft caress.

“I don’t want to fail them,” he said, his voice quiet now. “Or you.”

“You won’t,” she said firmly. “You could never fail me. We will do this together.”

His gaze softened, and for a fleeting moment, she saw the man beneath the soldier—the one who had risked everything to protect those he cared about. “You’re braver than most soldiers I’ve known,” he said, his lips quivering into the faintest hint of a smile.

Cecilia let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, her own lips twitching upward despite the gravity of their situation. “I don’t know if that’s bravery or recklessness,” she said lightly, trying to ease the tension that still hung between them.

“Sometimes,” Acacius said, his voice low but warm, “there’s no difference.”

She blinked at him, startled by the unexpected tenderness in his tone. He looked at her as though trying to memorize her face, as if this moment might be their last. He noticed the dimples when she smiled, the way her soft brown hair curled at the edges as they cascaded to her shoulders. She was breathtaking to him. Her cheeks were still a rosy red, his words clearly having an effect on her.

“You don’t have to say that for me,” she murmured, her voice barely audible.

“I’m not saying it for you,” he replied, stepping closer. “I’m saying it because it’s true. I’ve seen fear break the strongest of men. You feel it, and yet you stand. That’s not recklessness, Cecilia. That’s courage.”

Her breath hitched, the sincerity in his words cutting through her defenses like a blade. For all his strength, there was a vulnerability in him that made her chest ache.

“And you?” she asked, her voice trembling. “What about your courage?”

He looked away, the flicker of a smile fading as he shook his head. “Courage doesn’t stop the people you care about from dying.”

His words hung in the air, heavy and unrelenting. Cecilia reached for his hand without thinking, her fingers brushing his. “No, but it’s the only thing that gives them a chance to live. Your courage has saved countless lives before, and it will today as well.”

Acacius stilled, her touch anchoring him. He gave a short nod, his hand tightening briefly over hers as their fingers laced.

“We’ll give them that chance,” he said. “Together.”

She nodded, confidence building within her. His touch made her feel fearless. They didn’t have the luxury of dwelling on unspoken fears or unacknowledged feelings. Time was slipping away, and five lives depended on them.

His loving gaze was quickly replaced by a solemn determination. His composure was slowly returning from his previous fit of rage. “I will take the scroll with me to the colosseum and show it to the people prior to the execution.” 

“That’s risky,” she said, “what if they discover it is gone?”

“They will,” he admitted, but a small, almost mischievous smile flickered across his lips. “Which is why we’re not going to let them pin it on me—or either of us.”

Her brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Acacius began pacing as he let go of her hand. She automatically ached for his touch once more, but his mind was clearly racing as he pieced together a plan. “The scroll alone won’t be enough. We’ll need the crowd on our side, but we can’t rely on their outrage alone. We need someone within the council—or close to it—who can verify the authenticity.”

“Not a traitor,” Acacius said. “A sympathizer. There are still a few who believe in justice, even if they’ve been too afraid to act. I know someone who might help, he works directly with my soldiers.”

Cecilia was unsure, and not as quick to trust as the General. “And you trust this person?”

“Enough to know they want the council’s corruption to end as much as we do.” He turned to her, his gaze steady. “I need you to deliver the scroll to them. I can’t be seen leaving the Colosseum before the executions, and if they trace it back to me, this will all fall apart. You can move through the city without drawing suspicion.” He hesitated, his voice softening. “And because I trust you.”

Her cheeks warmed, but she quickly shook off the distraction. “Where will you be while I’m doing this?”

“At the Colosseum, preparing the crowd, making sure the Emperors are distracted,” he said. “If I can sway them before the executions, it will be easier.”

“Tell me who to find, and I will do it.” She said.

Acacius pulled her close, his hand resting briefly on her waist. “Near the south end of the palace. A merchant named Valerius. He deals in armor,  but his loyalty lies with the people.”

“I’ll find him,” she promised, tucking the scroll safely back beneath her gown.

“Be careful,” he said, rubbing the small of her back, “If anything happens to you—”

“Nothing will happen,” she interrupted, a faint smile playing on her lips. “We don’t have room for failure, remember?”

He smirked, the weight between them lifting slightly. “I’ll see you at the east end of the Colosseum. And Cecilia—thank you.”

“Thank you, General” she said, her eyes brushing over his soft, delicate lips. Acacius noticed her glance, his heart skipping a beat despite the impending doom around them.

His heart skipped at the sincerity in his words, but he nodded. “Acacius,” he corrected her, “call me Acacius.”

“Acacius,” she said, smiling once more before turning on her foot and heading out of the alcove. As they parted ways, Cecilia couldn’t help but glance back at him. His anger still simmered beneath the surface, but it was clear that he’d harness it, turning it into the resolve they both needed to see this through.

As she disappeared into the palace, Acacius stood for a moment, his gaze lingering on the spot where she’d been standing, the smell of her sweet perfume still heavy in the air.

He wasn’t about to let five innocent men—or the woman who had become his partner in this fight—die for no reason. 

Cecilia quickly dressed into her cloaks and left towards the south end of the palace. The south market was alive with activity, despite the early hour. Merchants called out their wares, their voices blending into a chaotic symphony of bartering and haggling. Cecilia pulled her cloak tighter, her eyes scanning the bustling square for the armor merchant Acacius had mentioned.

Valerius. A name spoken with trust, yet tied to danger.

She spotted the small building near the edge of the square, draped with metal pieces of armor, shiny silvers, brilliant golds, and soft red cloaks to compliment them. A stout man with a thick beard stood behind the facade of armor, his hands working with an open flame as she approached. Taking a deep breath, Cecilia stood in front of him, her posture friendly but guarded. She waited until he turned from the open flame to begin speaking.

“Valerius?” she asked, her voice low.

The man’s hands as he placed the tools he was holding on a table nearby. His green eyes flicked to her, sharp and assessing as he realized exactly who she was. “My lady…Empress Cecilia,” he bowed, making her cringe inwardly.

“Please, do not bow,” she told him, “I am just a woman, consider me a friend.” She hesitated, then pulled the scroll from her cloak, careful to keep it concealed as she held it toward him. “I was sent by Acacius. He said you could help.”

At the mention of Acacius’s name, Valerius’s expression hardened. He glanced around, as if he was worried they were being watched. He then leaned closer. “You must be careful saying that name out loud here,” he muttered. “Follow me.”

Before she could respond, he had grabbed her wrist and disappeared behind his building, lifting a heavy curtain that concealed a narrow doorway. Cecilia hesitated only a moment before ducking through.

The small room behind the stall was dimly lit, its air thick with the scent burning fire and casting irons. Valerius stood by the curtain, as if he was worried someone would try to walk in.

“Show me,” he demanded, his voice low but urgent.

Cecilia unfurled the scroll, holding it out so he could see the names listed there. As his eyes scanned the parchment, his expression shifted—from curiosity to anger, then to something heavier. “They mean to execute them?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

She nodded. “At the Colosseum. Emperor Geta…my husband… signed away on these orders. Acacius believes the brothers want to make an example of them. He thought you might be able to help expose the truth.”

Valerius exhaled sharply, his hand running over his beard. “This… this could change everything. But it’s dangerous. If they catch wind of this, it won’t just be me they come for.”

“I know,” Cecilia said. “But if we do nothing, five innocent men will die. Acacius is preparing to rally the crowd at the Colosseum. If you help him step forward with this evidence, he believes we can stop the executions.”

Valerius studied her for a long moment, his sharp gaze searching her face. “You’re not a soldier,” he said finally. “Why are you risking your life for this? Why are you turning against your husband?”

“Emperor Geta is not my husband by choice… and because it’s the right thing to do,” she said simply. “I trust Acacius, I believe he can fix what these brothers have broken.”

The corners of Valerius’s mouth lifted slightly, though it wasn’t quite a smile. “General Acacius. That man has a way of inspiring loyalty, doesn’t he?”

Cecilia chuckled at that as she nodded, clutching the scroll tightly. “Will you help us?”

Valerius hesitated, then gave a short nod. “I’ll do what I can. Meet me at the east entrance of the Colosseum just before the executions. I’ll need to find someone within the council willing to back this claim.”

“Thank you,” she said, relief washing over her.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Valerius replied grimly. “This will only work if Acacius can hold the crowd’s attention long enough for me to act. Tell him to be ready.”

“I will,” she said, putting the scroll away, “I will also ensure you are compensated for your efforts.”

Valerius thanked her once more before she pulled the hood of her cloak back over her head, vanishing into the bustling crowd.

The Colosseum loomed like a beast against the morning sky, its towering arches casting long shadows over the bustling crowds. Acacius stood near the main entrance, his cloak drawn tightly around him to conceal his face. The roar of distant cheers echoed through the stone structure, a grim reminder of the bloodlust that had drawn the people here today.

He attempted to remain hidden in the shadows, his jaw tightening as he steeled himself for what was to come. The names on the scroll burned in his mind, each one a life he was determined to save.

And yet, even as he surveyed the crowd, his thoughts drifted to Cecilia.

He could still feel the faint brush of her fingers against his hand, the quiet resolve in her voice when she’d insisted on standing by him. Her courage had caught him off guard, piercing through the armor he’d built around himself. She was no soldier, no seasoned warrior hardened by years of battle—but in her determination, she was every bit his equal.

A part of him hated sending her into the city alone. He wanted to go with her, protect her from anything she may face. The thought of her walking into danger twisted his gut. But, he knew she could handle herself, she had survived being married to a bloodthirsty killer. 

If something happened to her…

He shook his head, forcing the thought away. He couldn’t afford to lose focus, not now, not when he felt his entire army’s lives were at stake. Cecilia would succeed—she had to. 

Still, as he moved through the crowd, his gaze flickered toward the horizon, half-expecting to see her weaving through the throng, returning to him with the reassurance he didn’t dare voice aloud. The din of the Colosseum pulled him back to the present. Spectators jostled for position near the gates, eager for the executions to begin. 

If he could sway even a fraction of them, their combined voices could drown out the brothers’ authority. But he would need the perfect moment—and the right words. This wasn’t just about saving the five men condemned to die; it was about exposing the corruption that had poisoned Rome. He knew he must remind these people that they had power, too.

Acacius exhaled, steadying himself as he saw the five men, tied up and thrown to the ground like animals to the slaughter. 

Gaius Tiberius, the youngest of them, barely more than a boy, stared at the ground, his shoulders trembling as he tried and failed to maintain some semblance of composure. Acacius’s chest tightened. He had trained Gaius himself, watched him grow from an eager recruit into a disciplined soldier. The boy had once spoken of a family waiting for him in the countryside—a mother and two younger sisters who depended on his service to survive.

Quintus Publius and Aulus Servius stood side by side, their expressions grim but resolute. They were seasoned veterans, men who had followed Acacius into countless battles without question. Men who would do anything for the people of Rome, to serve a greater purpose. They didn’t deserve this. They had served with honor, their only crime being too loyal to question the council’s orders.

Caius Nero, a man well into his years, stood stoically despite the weight of his bonds. Acacius remembered how Nero had once defended him before the council, arguing for fairness and restraint when punishment was dealt. The man had always valued justice over blind obedience—a quality that had clearly made him a target.

And finally, Manius Cato. He was a former council elder whose calm wisdom had once guided the city through crises. A man whose words knew no limits when it came to saving his people. Now, he stood among the condemned, his grayed hair and dignity bearing a stark contrast to the injustice he was facing.

These men were not criminals or traitors—they were scapegoats, lambs led to slaughter to satisfy the council’s insatiable hunger for control. Acacius’ anger wasn’t enough to dull the guilt gnawing at the edges of his resolve. He had led three of these men in battle, trained them, trusted them—and they had trusted him in return. And now they stood here, awaiting death, because he hadn’t seen the council’s betrayal coming.

 He tried to push those thoughts aside as he scanned the crowd again, searching for the subtle signals he’d arranged with his allies. He would need their help to amplify his voice when the time came.

And somewhere in the back of his mind, he held onto the thought of Cecilia—her strength, her trust in him, and the promise they’d made to face this together.

[rachels-blue-plastic-hairbrush]

My two strongest RR criticisms and how I would fix them for a potential rewrite! Reference: last post.

Disclaimer: I’ve been writing a book since October 2023. I know how storytelling works. I’m not a professional though! Please take everything I say with a handful of salt.

With that out of the way, read below to hear me yap about Octavian and Solangelo (but mostly Octavian).

Octavian No-Last-Name: Wasted Potential

I could make a whole post on Octavian alone because of everything I would do with his character. Maybe if this does well. However, I am coming from a slight bias with this opinion since I like Octavian! Be cautious.

Octavian had potential to be a good character and probably would’ve been if Rick didn’t write him to be made fun of by others in the cast (the opening scene(s) to Mark of Athena being a prime example of this).

The real issue I find with Octavian is simply this: he died.

In The Hidden Oracle, it states that it’s Octavian’s fault for Apollo/Lester being cast down as a mortal (will update when I find the quote). So it seems like it would make more sense for him to be alive, right? To give Apollo/Lester more adversaries when he’s mortal?

I don’t care how he relates to the ToA storyline: exile him to CHB, let him stay at the Waystation, keep him at CJ, I don’t care. I just think he should’ve been a part to the story. He could’ve impacted Lester’s character too, sigh.

Moving on to his actual death. In Blood of Olympus, he gets caught on an onager and launches himself into the sky in what is described as a “fiery comet,” “blazing comet,” and FUCKING “MISSILE” HELLO? HE’S A TEENAGER, EIGHTEEN, AND HE’S BEING SHOT INTO THE AIR IN AN EXPLOSION.

Okay. Continuing on, what is his death, actually? He just gets shot into the air and dies on impact, when he hits whatever he hits. So he’s alive in that comet.

How would I rewrite this personally? I would still get him caught on the onager and have him cut the release wire. However, he wouldn’t get shot up into the comet. He would get hit with the explosion and fall unconscious, almost dead, and gets taken care of by Will until he’s at a good enough health again.

Due to him starting a war, he gets told that he’s on a semi-permanent exile from Camp Jupiter and that he’d be executed if he shows up. And since Lester starts by arriving at Camp Half-Blood, it would basically force the two to interact. Great!

Solangelo: It’s very interesting

I’m not here to hate on people who like this ship. If you like it, you do you. I’m not even hating on the ship itself here, so don’t misinterpret this as that okay.

Solangelo is very sudden.

One of their main interactions in BoO (the only one I recall off the top of my head) is Octavian’s death, which leads into other smaller interactions between them after. Then they’re just together in THO.

I am aware that there is a six month, if I recall correctly, gap between BoO and THO. I still wish there was a bit more with them, y’know? Like, a few more memorable scenes in BoO, or maybe them not being together immediately at the start of THO.

How would I rewrite this personally? I wouldn’t make them already be dating at the start of THO. I’d either make them start dating at the end of THO or at the end of The Tower of Nero. I haven’t finished ToA yet though, so I don’t know if that makes sense story wise yet.

But whatever! That’s that. Maybe I’ll talk about rewriting characters next. We’ll see.

[bullet-prooflove]

Yours - Nero Padilla x Reader

Tagging: @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @oureternalbond  @lexondeck @redpoodlern @@littleone65 @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @yourwinchester @thanossexual @beccabarba @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @keyweegirlie

The Cam Girl - Nero and you come to a mutual agreement.

Shibari (NSFW) - You ask Nero for a favour.

Anything But Decent (NSFW) - Nero helps you make another video.

Day Off - You and Nero spend the day together.

ROI - You have an unusual reaction to Nero's revelation. Companion piece to Day Off

Silk Sheets - Your POV on Nero's revelation. Companion piece to Day Off and ROI

You don’t expect Nero to be there when you return to collect your equipment from Diosa. After everything that transpired between the two of you, you don’t see the point in dragging things out so you turn up in the early hours of the morning when you’re sure there’s no one you can run into.

When you see the light in the kitchen area you know it’s him. He sits at one of the black glossy tables in pyjama bottoms and a white wife beater, one of his cardigans thrown over his shoulders. His hair is rumpled from the night he’s spent tossing and turning. There’s a cup of chamomile tea in his hand, the steam swirls from it before evaporating into the air. He looks up at you enter, surprise crossing his features as you stand before him.

It hurts to look at him, to see the pain you’ve caused him. You can’t take back the things you’ve said and you’re not sure you want to. You know what love is supposed to look like. You’ve seen it in movies, read it in books but for you it means selling your body for a couple of hundred dollars in a filthy motel. It’s handing over your money at the end of the night so your boyfriend can pay his dealer. It’s a thousand disgusting things you were forced to do because you’d fallen in love with the wrong man.

The way you feel for Nero it’s complicated, it’s tangled up in everything else. It’s hard for you to separate the warm, compassionate person you know with the enigmatic owner of the brothel. Your heart wants to fall for this man, but your mind keeps throwing up red flags. It’s a war you can’t hope to win.

“I’ll be out of your hair in minute.” You say quietly, jerking your thumb at the corridor that leads to your room. “I just need to pick up my equipment.”

“Mami…” He sighs before gesturing to the chair across from him. “Please, just sit.”

It’s not a good idea, but you want to see how this plays out because you aren’t ready to give up on him just yet, there’s still a part of you that wants to believe that he means what he said. You take the seat gingerly, dropping your bag down alongside of it.

“I don’t know what happened yesterday.” He says quietly, shrugging his shoulders. “One minute we were happy and the next…”

“You said you loved me.” You finish for him, toying with the silver rings on your fingers. It’s a nervous habit, one he’s noticed throughout the time you’ve spent together. He hates that he’s the source of it but the two of you need to get your shit out in the open. Stuff like this it tends to fester and if that happens, this thing between the two of you, it’s over.

“I know what trauma looks like.” Nero says, raising his eyes to meet yours. “I didn’t see it before; I was too caught up in everything else that was going on with us but I know…”

He trails off, his mouth set in a grim line because he can taste the bitterness of the words on his tongue. He can’t bring himself to say the rest.

“It’s an age-old story.” You say finally, swallowing hard against the well of emotion that builds in your chest. “Girl goes to college, meets an older boy at a party. Six months later she drops out to turn tricks in a roadside motel because her boyfriend needs money to keep his dealer off his back.”

You suck in a shaky breath before continuing.

“It started with a couple of friends. Joey broke up with his girlfriend, he could do with a little attention. Mateo���s lonely. You know how it plays out after that.”

He does. it’s the same story he’s heard from most of the girls here. He thinks he’s starting to understand why his words had such an affect on you, the things you’ve done in the name of love… That word is ruined for you now.

“How did you get out?” He asks you, cradling the warm mug to his chest.

“I found out about the other girls.” You tell him with a sigh. “I thought I was the only one, but he already had two others turning tricks. It was a wakeup call. The next time he came around I tried to end it and it didn’t go well.”

“The scar on your neck, just under your jaw?” Nero questions, gesturing to the space where the white indentation resides on your skin.

“From a ring he was wearing when he tried to choke me out.”

There’s a fire in Nero’s eyes, his jaw tenses as that rage fills him. He doesn’t know the other man, but he wants to kill him, he wants to wrap his hands around his throat and show him how it feels to have the oxygen slowly wrung from your body.

“I hit him with the lamp. It was one of those ones with a heavy base.” You tell him, mimicking the motion. There’s a distance in your eyes, he knows that you’ve slipped away into the memory. “And then I kept hitting him. He was barely breathing by the time I stopped.”

“You took back your power.” Nero says softly, he reaches out to touch your hand and you jerk at the sensation as it brings you back to the present.

“I promised myself I wouldn’t let anything like that happen to me again.” You say, your fingers entwining with his, his thumb chases along the inside of you hand, caressing it gently.

“He told you he loved you, didn’t he?” Nero says in that quiet way of his. “Every time he took something from you, he told you he loved you and that’s why you can’t bear to hear me say it.”

You look at him and you give him that look, the one that breaks his heart because he can tell you’re trying not to cry.

“I care about you so deeply.” Nero tells you; he places your palm upon the centre of his chest, just over the space where his heart resides. “The way I feel it’s unconditional.”

“I want this Nero.” You say softly as your fingertips trail across his cheek. His palm encloses over yours, holding it in place as his lips brush over your pulse point. “I want this with you so badly.”

“I’m yours Mami.” He whispers as his mouth ghosts over your skin. “From now until the end of time, I’m all yours.”

Love Nero? Get added to his tag list!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[of-pale]

There are but two certainties in life: death and taxes. So it’s business as usual.

Nero walked into the shop, surprised to see Vergil in Dante's chair, sifting through papers, while Dante lounged lazily on the sofa flipping through a magazine.

"What's going on here?"

"Oh, you know, Vergil being Vergil,” Dante gestured dramatically toward his brother as if presenting a circus animal in a grand display. “He thinks he can do a better job at managing a demon hunting business. Not like I've been doing it just fine for decades.”

"Anyone with opposable thumbs could do a better job than you, brother," Vergil replied dryly, scrutinizing the atrociously messy paperwork and accounting. It didn't require a genius to see how badly Dante’s business would be in the red if it weren't for all the money Dante undoubtedly weaselled out of Lady. Still, that's money that has to be repaid, and Vergil didn't even want to think about the returns the loan shark hag expects of Dante.

What truly frustrated Vergil was knowing for a fact that Dante could do a better job at running the business. Annoying as it was to admit, Dante had always been better with numbers. Ever since they were kids, adding up numbers at lightning speed was as easy for him as reading was for Vergil. So this accounting mess? It was like Dante didn’t bother to put any effort in it. And hadn't for decades. From the looks of things, he even got enough jobs coming in to get by, so why…?

“Damn, I wish it was that easy and I could just hire a monkey to do it,” Nero shook his head. “This shit's boring as hell.”

Vergil couldn't help but let his frustration leak through, “Something for Dante to consider then, since it would do a better job than this.”

"Does that mean I can pay you in bananas, Verge?" Dante fired back with a grin.

"A considerable improvement, since you don't pay me at all.”

"Hey now, you get your cut at the end of the demon hunting jobs.”

“You mean the rightful pay earned for a job I complete by myself, from which you take a cut simply because you act as a broker of a broker?”

"Welcome to capitalism, bro. It's how things are run topside.”

"I miss hell already,” Vergil replied sarcastically, massaging his temples. “Please tell me you at least paid the taxes.”

"Hey, I may be the Legendary Demon Hunter, but even I don't mess with the IRS.”

"Wait, you do all the bookkeeping on paper?” Nero raised an eyebrow. “You know we live in the 21st century, right?”

"Eh, it's easier on paper.” Dante shrugged. “Especially if the occasional job needs to be kept off the books.”

“You just said you don't want to mess with the IRS.”

“Oh, if there's one thing scarier than the IRS, it's Lady when she's come to collect her due.” Dante got up from the sofa and sauntered over to his desk, where an open pizza box awaited. “A wise man picks his battles.”

“A fool sets himself up for them,” Vergil muttered, quickly realising the irony of his own words.

Dante grabbed a slice of pizza and took a curious peek over Vergil's shoulder at his notes. “Hm, you got the total amount wrong by a couple hundred. Right there.” He pointed at it before cheekily patting Vergil on the shoulder and continuing on his merry way back to the sofa.

Vergil growled demonically in pure frustration, fighting the very real urge to roll all the blasted papers into a ball and dump them in the bin.

[queenmuzz]

Sehnsucht

My Gift to @mintnoodles as part of @dmc-secret-santas event!

Read it HERE on Ao3

Nero wrinkled his nose at the smell.  He really ought to be used to the smell of decaying flesh, but it never got old.  Especially when it was an animal, like the poor horse at his feet.  Humans were often unfortunate victims of scenes he’d investigated, a good chunk of them being idiots who attempted to summon demons, and another chunk were idiots that went ‘Ooooh, I wonder what that slobbering creature with the sharp fangs is, let me check!’ instead of ‘RUN AWAY’.  Animals were always victims, and never at fault.

Especially with this horse, with a good chunk taken out of it, hadn’t deserved its fate.  He sighed, looking around the farm.  It was pretty silent, with the farmer and his family wisely getting the heck out of dodge, along with most of the livestock…

Most.  Apparently this poor beast, its eyes still open in terror, had not made it.  Nero frowned as he saw the track that led from the beast.  It wasn’t really a track, more like a mound, like a furrow when a spring field was plowed, but the tractor operator must have been drunk, because it went this way and that.  That, along with the dead horse, and the strangest scent, (if Nero had to describe it, it smelled like electricity) gave him a pretty good idea what exactly he was facing. A Chronoskolex. A worm that’s diet consisted mostly of Geryon steeds, it had three annoying characteristics:

It loved to burrow

It liked to snack on horses, demonic or mundane.

And because of the aforementioned preference for Geryon horses, they had time warping powers, proportional to their size.

This one, guessing by the width of the mounds, and the size of the chunk taken out of the horse, was kinda tiny, no bigger than a small car.  Still, considering how annoying these guys were, with their time warping powers making them faster than should be possible, and his… previous encounter with them, it would be best to call his uncle or dad to give them a heads up.

“Devil May Cry”  the nasally voice on the other end was more than enough to distinguish the twins. 

“Hey dad,” It still felt odd to call him by that title.  Vergil hadn’t discouraged the practice, but he felt just as uncomfortable with the title as Nero felt saying it. “I’m out on a job, and I think I came across our favourite time warping demonic worm.

He heard the heavy swump of a hardcover book cover he undoubtedly was reading being slammed shut.

“Are you certain?”

“Pretty sure.  The signs point to it.  Dead horse, tunnel activity.”

“I will be there shortly.  I would highly suggest that you leave the area until my arrival.”

Nero huffed “It’s just a worm… and a small one at that.”  He was really irked that he was treated like a little kid, Vergil was overreacting.

“Still, I urge you to use the utmost caution-”

“Oh come on Dad, there’s nothing to worry about, I’m perfe-”

He never got the chance to finish the sentence, as something wet and slimy had wrapped around  his ankle, and dragged him down into the earth.

🌷🌷🌷

Nero blinked.  Then blinked again.  He wasn’t dead.  At least he thought he wasn’t dead.  If he was, the afterlife was extremely banal.  The sun shone down, at an angle that suggested sometime around noon, the birds were chirping, the trees were rustling with new leaves.  Springtime?  That was weird because it was mid fall when he had investigated the farm.

It took a little bit of time to get his bearings.  He was standing on a sidewalk, in front of an ornate wrought iron gate, that looked familiar, and yet…odd.  He wasn’t quite sure, as it looked completely normal, if a bit rich for his tastes.  Something like those manors owned by the old families on the island.

Speaking of manor, that building behind the gate was really getting his attention.  It was stately and grand, with a lush lawn and a large garden full of flowering tulips and daffodils, further cementing it was spring here.  But it was the facade that captured his attention. He swore he’d seen it before, but… where… or more importantly WHEN.

It took about thirty seconds until he realized what this place was:  Redgrave Manor, the birthplace and childhood home of his father and brother.  But… here it stood here at the zenith of its glory, instead of the crumbling decrepit charred skeleton he remembered it to be.   Knowing what little bit he had gleaned from the twins, the fire that destroyed it and ended their childhoods prematurely was… almost forty years ago.  How long in time was he sent back?  Was this the doing of that weird worm?  It seemed kinda small to move him so far back in time.  Was this permanent?

He didn’t really have time to ruminate on such things because from a batch of tulips, there was a movement of gold that caught his eye, as if he was a magpie.  A head popped up, wearing a wide straw hat, humming contentedly as she pulled weeds.  Nero’s mouth went dry… he couldn’t see her face, had never met her, but he knew exactly what she looked like.  He’d studied that portrait on Dante’s desk countless times, comparing it to Trish’s face.  He struggled one whether to stand here standing there like a creepy stalker, watching his grandma, or to try to sound like a creepy weirdo, trying to get her attention.  What could he even say to her?

And as if she could read his mind, she looked up, and noticed him.  “Oh!” She exclaimed as she got up, removing her gardening gloves and brushing the dirt off of her knees. She had a basket of freshly picked tulips hooked on her arm, and she smelled of damp earth and freshly shorn grass.  “I didn’t see you, young man.”  She cocked her head in confusion, and for a moment, Nero felt like he didn’t have any clothes on, she was examining him so thoroughly.  But after that, she just smiled and asked, “are you looking for someone?”

“Uh yeah…” he began lamely, “is your husband Sp-”  he stopped himself.  Did his grandpa go by that name with his family?  Seemed too stately, too formal.  But maybe that was because in Fortuna, ‘Sparda’ was up there with ‘Jesus’ when it came to reverence.  Not a name to casually banter about.

“Oh, you’re talking about Spencer?  Sadly, he’s out of town-” she paused, and a shadow passed over her face. “For the foreseeable future.  I’m Eva, his wife.”

Nero could only stand there stunned.  His Grandpa, the Former Ruler and Savior of Fortuna, the Demon who threw down Mundus two millennia ago, who his father revered, went by the name… SPENCER!?  That was a nerd name!  No wonder the twins never referred to him with such a lame name.

“Oh…that’s too bad,”  he said, not feeling too bad at all.  It had been ages since he swallowed the baloney that the ‘Saviour’ was some sort of divine figure, but it would still feel awkward to meet the guy that Kyrie’s family practically worshipped.  And would Sparda somehow know who he was?  Would he be disappointed in his grandson?

“What’s your name, young man?”  

“Pardon?” “You never gave your name, and Spencer mentioned having any other…” she hesitated as she looked up at his hair.  “Relations.”

Aw crap…this is not a situation he had never planned for.  To be fair, he hadn’t expected to be warped into the past to meet his long dead grandma, but there was no way that she didn’t have suspicions about how he and Sparda were related.

“Oh,” he laughed nervously, running his hand through his hair, as if to acknowledge her concerns, “I’m from Fortuna, it’s an island off the coast a few days' travel from Redgrave.  I guess… you could call me a distant descendant of him.”  ‘Distant’ was stretching the truth to its fullest extent, but it would do, “My mom never met him either, if you’re worried about-”

“Oh, no… I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean to imply-” Now it was her turn to act flustered,  “I knew Spenc-, she paused, and then corrected herself, “Sparda used to reside there, long before we met, and I would never blame him for things he did there, and especially not blame a young man like you!”

She placed a hand on his shoulder, and it felt… good.  Like with that simple gesture, he was now accepted by his grandmother, even if she didn’t know…it took all his willpower not to break down and cry.

“You still haven’t given your name..”

“Oh… yeah… I’m”  He panicked.. Should he give her his real name?  Would it fuck up the timeline?  But what pseudonym could he give that sounded believable.  It had to be a Fotunan name, it had to be one that he had heard constantly… it had to be a respectable name. “Credo…My name Credo Elesion”

Her eyes brightened, and she squeezed his shoulder tightly, as she tucked a vibrant royal purple tulip into his jacket breast pocket.  “Well, Credo Elesion, I’d like to formally welcome you to the Sparda family.”

🌷🌷🌷

He always knew the home where Dante and Vergil once spent their childhoods was massive, just looking at the skeleton that was left, but here?  In its prime?  It was beautiful, much grander than he’d ever seen before.  Dark wood panelling covered with paintings and tapestries, busts of statues from different eras.

“Sparda wa-is a collector of all things beautiful,” she explained, as she led him through the central hall. “One of the few things we argued about was how to let go of some of his older items, to make room for newer ones. For example,” she stopped before the only clear spot on the wall, visible the moment Nero stepped in.  “I had to cajole him to donate several pieces of art he cherished to the local museum, in order to make room for… this.”  She motioned to something leaning against the wall. She stepped away, and Nero gasped.  It was a life sized portrait, and he remembered it very well.  The heavily damaged one still hung in the manor, with Dante and Vergil hesitant to send it for restoration (and not because of the cost, he sensed)  This one was brand new, still giving off a faint odor of varnish.  A heavy canvas sheet covered half of it, most frustratingly, the part where he KNEW Sparda was seated.  But he could see Eva, looking regal as a Queen, and below her, her hands clasped on the shoulders of two young boys… “Those are…” he whispered.  The heavily damaged painting he remembered had obscured their features, almost as much as their fathers.  Now he could see their pensive features feeling quite out of character for the two older men he knew now.

“Yes, those are my sons,” she murmured, and he had a sensation that she wasn’t looking at them, but at him, for some reason.  “You have no idea how much effort it took for the two of them to stand still for their portrait to be even sketched, let alone painted.”

“I can only guess,” he grinned.  The only time the twins seem to be able to stand each other’s presence for any length of time is when they both are drunk… or sleeping.  

“Speaking of which… they’re awfully quiet…  DANTE!  VERGIL!  YOUR COUSIN IS HERE TO VISIT!!”  

Cousin, eh?  I can work with that. He thought.

There was a stampede of feet down the stairs, and a young voice yelled out.

“COUSIN LEON IS HERE! WOOOH!”

He shot a sharp glance at Eva.  There was another family member?  

“Ah, he’s talking about my sister’s son, Leon…. We’ve been a bit… estranged from that part of my family for the past few years.  The boys miss him terribly.  So few children of their age live in this area.”  She explained, and he nodded, and made a mental note to ask his dad about this cousin when he got back.

If he got back.  

He shoved the uncomfortable feeling down as soon as a bundle of demonic energy came down the steps, the two entities racing each other to get to the bottom.

It was Dante who got there first. His unmistakable aura of excitability, not tempered by age and tragedy yet to come was what marked him out to Nero.  His grin, showing a gap where he had recently lost a tooth, was hard to miss.

“I won!”  He crowed to the other figure, dressed more neatly, and more soberly.  Even at that age, Vergil had preferred to distinguish himself from his brother in any way he could.  Especially as he had to act like he was TOTALLY not upset that his little brother had won this particular race.

Dante skidded to a stop and stared at Nero, his jaw dangling open. “Dante, it’s not polite to stare.” “But this isn’t Leon!” The disappointment in his voice was palpable.

“No, this is your other cousin, Credo.  He’s dropped by to visit.  This is my son, Dante,” she formally introduced him, even though he already knew so much about him.  “And his brother,”

“Older brother,” the boy clarified.

“Older brother, Vergil.”  

“Glad to meet you!” Nero greeted them, trying to keep his composure.  They were so small.  It was hard to comprehend that the two men he called father and uncle were once children, instead of full grown adults that acted like children.

“Now, I need to get lunch ready for us and our guest, so if you two would like to show Mr. Credo around while I make some extra food for our guest.”  The boys began to protest.

“But mooooom, he’s so….” Dante looked at him with a grimace, “Olllllld.  He looks as old as dad!”

Nero had to bite back outrage, or a laugh, he wasn’t quite sure which.  

“Dante!!!  What have I told you about ‘if you can’t say anything nice…”

“Yeah yeah, don’t say anything at all...” he groaned, and he looked at his mother.  “Can I help you instead?  Vergil likes hanging around old people better…”

“Dante…”  Her voice was dangerously low, and Nero automatically knew that tone, having heard countless times, from orphanage matrons, mostly towards him.  Dante was thin ice.

“I’ll do it,” Vergil interrupted, and Nero was half surprised that he said it without a hint of sarcasm, or obligation.

“Splendid!  While you show Credo around, we’ll work on a picnic lunch!”  She shepherded Dante towards what was probably the kitchen.  

“With Strawberries?” Dante asked hopefully.

“Sorry, it’s not quite that season yet.”

“Awww”

“But we do have strawberry sorbet!”

“YAAAAY!”

And with that, they left both Nero and his…dad standing there.

“Um…well,” Vergil said, suddenly a bit shy, “Do you want to see my room?”

“Sure!”  That was a good enough start.

Nero couldn’t help but marvel at everything as they went up the stairs.  So much beauty and art was contained here, in this house Even the handrails, made of hand carved well varnished wood, were amazing.

“How old are you, Vergil?”

“I’ll be eight in a month and three days.”  

That number sent a chill down his spine and settled in his gut.  Eight years old… the kid had  less than a year of peace and happiness before all this art, this beauty, his entire childhood, would go up in flames.  And Nero had no idea if he could change it, prevent it, or even warn him about it.  Would it make things worse?  Would the kid even believe him?

No, it would be best for him to stay vigilant and silent.

“Here we are…”

Nero stepped into what was the biggest bedroom he had ever seen.  Bookshelf after bookshelf filled the walls.  Most of the upper shelves were full of  tomes that he assumed even Adult Vergil would have found extremely dull, with names like ‘On the Nature of Rosacea’ or ‘The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire’, but the lower books seemed plausible for a kid to read, even if they seemed a bit… ahead of the curve for a seven year old.  Swiss Family Robinson?  Nero had read that book when he was nine, secretly hoping that if he managed to escape Fortuna, he could settle on an isolated island and live life free.  And even then, his teachers were surprised that he was reading it at that age.

“Wow… this is your room?”  He looked over at the bed, and was surprised that it didn’t quite fit the room.  The wood frame didn’t match, far too light in colour, and the design didn’t fit the hardwood paneling.  And there was only one.  Which was odd, because his dad always seemed to share a tiny  bedroom with Dante, even with a spare room in the building.  And seeing how they could barely tolerate each other when awake, he had just assumed they must have slept in the same bedroom as kids.

“This is just your room?”  He looked, and yeah… there wasn’t anything about this room that indicated Dante even stepped foot in it.  Everything had its place, even the set of wooden swords that were placed carefully in a display above a polished hardwood desk.  Not a single hint of the chaos that was innately Dante.

“Yes, when father… when he went off on business, he left me his old library.” Vergil huffed and plopped himself on his neatly made bed.

“You don’t share a bedroom with your brother?”  

The look on the kid’s face looked like Nero had just suggested that he should use Yamato to cut a pizza. 

“Ew.  No.  Dante is just too… messy.  He never makes his bed. He talks in his sleep.  He snores.  When mother tells him to clean his side of his room, he sweeps all his stuff under my bed, and then I get in trouble for it.”  Vergil explained, each complaint given the full seriousness of a courtroom civil suit. “And worst of all, he’s always bugging me.  Always asking questions.  Always wanting to spend time with me.”  

Nero couldn’t help but chuckle.  That did sound like his dad, but nowadays he seemed to mellow out, maybe nearly a lifetime of being apart had made him more tolerant of Dante’s presence.

“Oh, he can’t be that bad!”

“Oh yes he can!  That’s why I moved into the library.  I can have my own space, and it has my father's old books.”

“You like books, I take it?”  Nero said as he sat down beside the kid, admiring the collection.  The amount of books could rival a small town’s library.

“Yes… father always liked reading.  Said it…” He closed his eyes and picked up his chin before lowering his voice in an imitation of Sparda, “Helps promote culture and learning.”  Nero couldn’t help but chuckle.  Somehow, despite never meeting the guy, it sounded like it had come straight from his mouth.

“Huh, that’s probably why he has a gigantic library where I live.” he mused, looking up and making a mental estimation at how many books this room had.  There had to be over two thousand.  After he was satisfied with his math, he noticed that Vergil had been quiet for far too long, he turned to see the boy staring at him in wonder.

“Father has another library?”

Crap.

That was not something he had wanted to disclose, but now the demon was out of the pizza box, so to speak.  Trying to backpedal would just make the kid more insistent.

“Yeah… your dad lived where I live, a looooong time ago.  He had a huge amount of books, so we took care of them, and tried to learn about him by reading his stuff.”

“Where do you live?”

Nero hesitated.  He could just make up a place, and Vergil wouldn’t know any better, but something told him that he ought to tell the truth.   Vergil would eventually head to Fortuna anyways, and do… uh… ‘research’.

“Fortuna,” he rubbed the back of his head, “it’s an island where your dad liked to spend time,” he decided to clarify, “before he met your mom.”

Vergil looked at his lap, thinking hard.  Eventually he murmured, “I’d like to go there… maybe I can find out about what Father really did, where he went.  Mother always seems so sad when I talk to her about him, and I would like to make her happy again.”

Nero paused.  Vergil was a good kid.  He had a lot of stuff ahead of him that Nero didn’t wish on his worst enemy.  He didn’t deserve to deal with it all alone.

“What about Dante?”

Vergil huffed, “What about him?”

Nero gulped, but continued, “You like to say that you don’t like hanging out with him, but I get the feeling that deep down, you really care for him as a brother.  Yeah, you need some time apart, but at the end of the day… you like having him at your side.”

Vergil sat there, digesting the information before slowly nodding.   “Perhaps…”

“VERGIL… CREDO!!! THE PICNIC IS READY!!”  Eva’s voice echoed from the bottom of the stairs.  Vergil’s eyes lit up, and he hurried out, grabbing Nero by the wrist and practically dragging him down the stairs.

🌷🌷🌷

Lunch was a delight, with sandwiches cut into quarters, layers of ham and cheese, turkey, and bacon, with finely cut slices of vegetables.  There was fresh squeezed lemonade, and as cheered for before, strawberry sorbet for dessert.  The boys devoured everything (with the exception of the vegetables) with gusto, despite their mother repeatedly reminding them that they had a guest, and that it wasn’t polite to ‘inhale’ their food.  (Some things never changed).

Nero was glad that they enjoyed the food, because for some reason, it didn’t have the same appeal to him. Like, it LOOKED like it ought to be delicious.  The vegetables were crisp, the bread was freshly baked, but everything, including the tartness of the lemonade felt…dull… distant.  Like those cheap drinks Nico bought at gas stations and guzzled constantly, despite them tasting like a can of water shown a picture of a fruit.  Even the strawberry sorbet tasted more like one of those cheap snow cones that had only one squirt of flavouring in it.   Of course, he would remain polite, and smiled and lied about how delicious the food was. 

“Vergil!” announced Dante, after licking the rest of the sorbet out of the bowl .  “Race you to the treehouse?”  He stood up and held his hand out to the other boy.

The older twin hesitated, obviously not really enthusiastic for the idea of spending more time with his annoying little brother.

“Go on…” Nero urged, “have some fun with him.”  Nero might not be able to prevent what was going to happen, or protect him, but at the very least, he could encourage him to make some good memories, to help him remember how much he loved his brother, despite the hard times ahead.

The boy pursed his lips for a minute, looked at his mother for her nod of encouragement, and took Dante’s hand, who helped him up and attempted to look like he was being dragged towards the distant tree, a barely seen wooden structure hidden in the freshly grown leaves.  But Nero couldn’t help but notice he had a small smile on his face, especially as he turned back for a one small glance at what he originally thought was his grandmother… but to his surprise, it was directed at HIM.

He heard a blending of two types of laughter, one eager and excitable, the other more subdued, yet fuller with warmth,  before the wind carried them away.

“I hoped you enjoyed your short stay with us,” Eva murmured, sitting next to him.  She took a sip out of her teacup, her mannerisms in holding the cup resembling a  man he knew.

“Yeah!” he took a sip of the lemonade, attempting not to wince at the (lack of) taste.  Maybe old folks were right, food back in the day wasn't full of those ‘darn artificial flavouring.’  It’s been great meeting you all, coming here and seeing…”  he wasn’t sure how to say what he wanted to sound like a crazy guy, so he took another swig.

“Seeing your father as he once was…” she finished his sentence, and it was all he could do to turn his head away from her and not ruin the picnic by choking and spitting the lemonade all over her and the picnic.  He spent the next minute coughing and hacking while she sat patiently for him to recover.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that while you were in the middle of sipping.”

Frankly, him looking like an idiot, choking on some lemonade was the least of his concerns. He eventually got control of his breathing, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and stared at her.

“How did you…”

“Know that you weren’t who you said you were?”  She said, but there was no anger or disappointment in it.  “Having spent most of my adulthood at Sparda’s side, I learned much about arcane subjects.  Demonic magic, the subtle distinctions of souls, and when someone is where- or in this case- WHEN in the wrong place.  I identified it the moment I saw you.  There’s a …” she placed her teacup down, and picked up his hand.  He was too dumbfounded to pull away or react, not that he wanted her too.  Her hand was so warm, so soft.  “There’s a translucency about you, as if you could exist at this time and place for a limited period of time.  It’s a lot more pronounced now, perhaps you can see it too.”

He looked down at his hand, and he could just make out the outlines of her hand within his, not noticeable enough for anyone not looking for it.

“That means-” he gasped.

“We are running out of time…” she said softly, and there was a little bit of a tremor in her voice.  He wasn’t sure if she was talking about him, or…her and her sons.  

“How did you know my dad was Vergil?” he asked.

She chuckled, and looked out at the treehouse, which now looked faint, like a warm fog had suddenly blown in.  “I’ll admit, I may know the difference between Vergil and Dante by their souls, but even I have my limits with the twins.  In which case, I cheated.  I looked at you, your reaction to the boys.  The way you wrinkled your nose at Dante calling you old.  And the look of longing you gave Vergil.  That sealed the deal.”

Was it just him, or had the colour of the grass they sat upon lose its springtime vibrancy?

“May I have your name?”  She asked one last time, and this time he answered truthfully.

“Nero.  My name is Nero.”  

Her face broke out in a smile.  “That’s a wonderful name!”  He was glad she didn’t ask for his last name.  He wasn’t sure there was enough time to unpack all of that history.  Still, her face turned a bit sombre as she looked at him.  “We haven’t met before, have we?”  She seemed more sad that she would never meet her grandson, than the implications that she would never LIVE to meet him.

Nero thought he didn't have springtime allergies, but for some reason his eyes began to water.  He blinked back the tears threatening to form.

“No… Dante and Vergil talk about you regularly though.  One of the few things they agree on is how wonderful a mom you were.”

He must have inherited those sudden spring allergies from her, because her eyes were now shiny too,

“Oh, they’re still together!  That’s wonderful to hear!”  But she pulled him closer to herself to the point that their foreheads nearly touched, like she was trying to memorize everything about him.  Her hand withdrew from his, and placed it on his cheek, which he couldn’t help but lean into, savouring the warmth.  Every other sensation was becoming muted, even the blue checkered cloth picnic blanket was fading into a dull white.  “It hasn’t been an easy life for them, has it… or for you?” He couldn’t say anything except to nod dumbly, because he was certain that the only sound he could make would be a choked sob.  He couldn’t put the burden on her on how one son would spend much of his life living his life depressed at his own failures and alone, the other cold, tortured by his past and legacy, and alone.

“But you are here, my grandson, a fully grown man, and my sons are alive and together,” she reassured him,  “that is enough for me.”

He managed to keep himself together enough to blurt out, “Me and my fiance…we have three kids we adopted. Vergil loves them, in his own Vergil way.”  He longed to tell her about Kyrie, how much that woman saved him from a life of anger and despair, that she was so much like Eva in her own way, but like his grandmother said, they were running out of time.  But still, as the haze that surrounded them and leeched the colour out of everything got darker, her smile of delight shone through.

“I’m a great-grandmother…” she said with amazement, and Nero’s heart thumped that like Vergil, she instinctively took them as her own, bloodlines be damned.  She pulled his head closer and down, and brushed her lips on his forehead, and that was it.  The dam broke and he began to sob.  He didn’t want this to end.  He didn’t want to leave her to a future he knew would end in her terror and death.  He wanted to protect her, protect the twins, let them live life to the fullest.

“What little time we have been given to be together is worth more than many years of being worried for the future of my boys.  Whatever happens, I know that in the end, things will work out.”

He couldn’t help it, his spectral wings shot out and gathered her in a loving embrace.  There was a small yelp of surprise, and then a contented hum as she realized what was happening.   The world was becoming really dark now, as if he had entered a tunnel.  He wasn’t sure if his eyes were open or shut, or if the scant light he saw was just something he imagined behind closed eyes.

Her voice murmured at his ear, faint, almost a whisper.  “Tell them all that I send them my love.”  He nodded, tried to speak, but found himself unable to move.  The darkness was now physical, crushing him, and for a brief moment, he just floated there, trying to figure out what was happening.  Was he dead?  No, he couldn’t be dead, he needed to relay her last message to the twins.  He needed to get back to his kids, tell them how much he loved them, tell Kyrie that his grandma would have adored her.  He struggled at the pitch black that threatened to suffocate him.  He felt, rather than saw his spectral arms struggling against it trying to find something that wasn’t a void of light. 

Suddenly, there was a shift, and a jerk upwards, his right spectral arm had found something to latch onto, or more correctly something found IT, and now was pulling it, and him up.   He hoped whatever it was, it didn’t have any plans of eating him.

Suddenly, he felt the influx of three things, light, air, and sound in abundance.  Blinked teary, gritty eyes. Coughed up, not watered down lemonade, but dirt that was in his mouth and throat.   Heard not the sound of spring birds or the sound of his grandmother’s voice at his ear, but the hiss of a dying demon, the rush of ghostly hooves, and the half frantic mutterings of a man.

“Come on Nero, wake up.”  The nasally voice, much different from the pensive young boy.  Nero heard a grunt, almost a roar, “GET UP!”  and suddenly the darkness that had imprisoned him was gone.

He cracked his eyes open, blinked away more grit. Vergil stood above him, breathing heavily, loose strands of his usually combed back hair flying this way and that.  Yamato was unsheathed, demonic ichor still dripping from the tip, unwiped which was so  his usually meticulous father.  

“WHAT. DID. I. TELL. YOU. ABOUT. THE. CHRONOSKOLEX.” he wasn’t yelling, per se. But for Vergil, this volume of voice conveyed how angry he was at Nero.  “I  SPECIFICALLY told you to be aware and keep your distance from it, especially without me or even your uncle.  Had I not had the ability to arrive quickly…” he wiped his blade on his sleeve before sheathing it as he motioned towards the rapidly decaying carcass of the worm.  There was that telltale odor of ozone that always accompanied a portal that Yamato had cut. “You would have been kept in stasis by its timecontrol, completely motionless, undetectable until you were suffocated by the ground.”  It was that sentence that revealed that it wasn’t anger that was causing Vergil to raise his voice, it was terror.  Terror at what might have happened.   Nero could tell by the way he offered a hand to help him up, the way it trembled.

With a grunt, he swung a hand, and his father yanked him up, overcompensating on the effort so that Nero fell into him.  They both stood there, frozen, waiting for the other to hug, neither one wanting to be the one to initiate it.

In the end, it didn’t happen.  He heard a disgusted sniff, and Vergil’s voice at his shoulder.  “You smell of horse droppings,” and he backed up, as if he was afraid of being contaminated.   Still, it didn’t stop him from brushing off the horseshit infused dirt out of Nero’s hair, his shoulders, his coat… and then he stopped, his eyes transfixed on Nero’s chest.

After a few awkward moments, Nero braved a glance downward to see what Vergil was staring at.  And suddenly froze as well. 

There, set in his breast pocket was a perfectly dried black tulip.  But, on closer inspection, as his trembling pulled it out and held it in the light, indicated that it had been a deep royal purple when it was fresh.  Maybe it was his imagination, but he swore he could still smell, above the odors of a farm, its delicate fragrance.

“That was mother’s favourite…”  Vergil’s voice was ragged.  

“Her favourite colour of tulip…” Nero finished his sentence for him, and gave him some time to register it.

He looked back up at Nero’s face, searching for something, or retrieving a memory, before rasping out a single name.

“Credo?”

Nero gave him a small grin… “You of all people can’t blame me for going by an assumed name,”  He placed the tulip in Vergil’s hand, cracked his stiff neck, and his grin grew.  “How about we go home, I get a shower, Dante orders a pizza or two, and we can talk about…well” he motioned to the flower, and Vergil nodded.

The older man cut through the air, creating a portal, the inky void beckoning them forward, not scary and suffocating like the deep earth and the tragic past, but leading them to an unseen, but hopeful future.

“I have one question right now…” Nero said as they began to walk through.

“Hmmm?”

“Do we have a cousin named Leon?”

[the-black-bulls]

Hello! Do you have any LGBTQ+ headcanons for the Black Bulls? Just curious no forcing tho :))

Oooh, I've already answered a similar ask two years ago here so it'd be fun to see what have changed since then.

☘ Yami is aroace... 100%, there's no single romantic bone in his body and he gives a total of zero fucks.

☘ Nacht is gay gay homosexual gay transman who's been mistaken for a rude homophobic too many times for comfort.

☘ Nero is aromantic asexual coffee-addicted who identifies as a bird and a demigirl on the process of healing after her doomed love story that lasted for 500 years, pray for her.

The rest under keep reading:

☘ Gordon is a perfectly healthy pan who's fascinated by polymerous relationships and believes the black bulls are already in one.

☘ Charmy is chaotic disaster unstoppable pan, probably made a few too many gays question themselves after getting charmed by her.

☘ Grey is gray-aroace who's a transwoman in my book, although one could headcanon her as any queer identity and it'd still work.

☘ Zora's interests fluctuate under the aro-ace umbrella (I believe the right term is aro-aceflux), he has too much trust issues to let anyone near him, but he's getting there.

☘ Gauche is demi-aroace and a transman, he can be so closed in on himself (again trust issues) but subconsciously craves the company of others / is touch starved.

☘ Magna is biromantic asexual because he swings both ways and it's literally his surname, and has so much ace aesthetic in his design for me not to see him as one.

☘ Luck is another aroace, he's also Magna's queerplatonic partner.

☘ I often see Vanessa and Finral as straight allies because I love the concept of them supporting everyone else in the squad, but if we're being more fair they're likely bi or bicurious or heteroflexible.

☘ Henry is a he/they nonbinary, aroace, no question there.

☘ Asta and Noelle are both demi, but Asta is pan-oriented with a big heart and arms always open to give the warmest of hugs meanwhile Noelle is pretty much a disaster bi in the making.

☘ Liebe is a devil, they don't perceive these stuff.

[https-cyber-slxt]

Holy shit! Your blog is an oasis in a desert istg. Finally some proper unadulterated femdom content on this hellsite. Thank you so much!

If your requests are still open, can I please get some sub!Dante content? General headcanons or just a little pegging for my bbg :) Up to you. And thanks again <3

P. S.: A word of advice: try to avoid more explicit tags, like sub!character or dom!reader, and use something more general like character x reader. I've noticed that Tumblr algorithm doesn't take into account actual contents of the post and shadow bans based on tags. I've seen some really outrageous stuff fly under the radar, because it only had fandom tags and nothing specific. Hope this'll help at least a little bit. You don't deserve to deal with this bs. Wish you the best!

hiiiii anon, I really appreciate these kind words, here just for you.

Oh and I'll absolutely give you your “daily” dose of pegging Dante :P

Devils Do Cry!

Sub!Dante x FemDom!Reader

A/N: I am so unmotivated (also it's 10 pm and I'm tired as shit, so if this is bad, I'm sorry)

“So... Who's Elizabeth?” you question out of nowhere as you pull your sword out of the Hell Caina's chest, causing it to wither away. Dante becomes stunned at the question, raising a brow at you. “Just another Devil Hunter, why?”

He swallows thickly at your serious expression. You prop your glasses up and wipe the blood off of your weapon. “A little birdie told me that you went on a *date* with her last night” Dante whimpers and furrows his brows before propping himself up properly. “Oh yeah? Well maybe that little birdie was trying to make you jealous” your face becomes even more serious. “Why would Nero wish to make me jealous?”

Dante stops in his tracks and nearly bursts into a sprint, damn you little nephew! “I uh- uhm-” his sentence cuts off as you grab his collar and shove him against a wall. “Don't lie to me Dante! What were you doing last night!?” He sobs as he licks his dry lips. “I'm sorry (Name), but I promise I didn't do anything, I just- walked her back home, that's all, and Nero must've thought something else“

You drop Dante and turn away, walking back to his office space with him not far behind you.

☆~ 5:30 PM ~☆

You lie on your stomach as you flip through the pages of the magazine, munching on the cheese pizza while doing so. Your fingers rest at the bottom of the page while your eyes fixate on the pictures, making you unaware of your surroundings. Your reading becomes interrupted as the doors slam shut, making you look up at Dante. “Jeez those two are a pain in the ass” he sighs while stretching.

“If they're so annoying, why are you friends with them?” you ask while flipping to the next page, placing your hand under your chin. “Well you know, it's nice to have some company in this shithole” He answers while walking up the stairs. You scoff and lift yourself off the couch. “Hey! Which drawer do the magazines go into?” you shout while fiddling with the book in your hands. “My desk drawer!” oh wow real helpful.

You roll your eyes and walk behind the desk, opening up the top drawer, nope, the middle one, nu-uh, the bottom one perhaps? Your hand grabs the handle and just as you're done opening it halfway, you slam it closed and grip the magazine in your hands even tighter.

A few moments later Dante rushes down the stairs, oblivious to your shocked expression. “Hey babe so, Morrison will be here in a few and- are you okay-” his sentence cut off as he stares at your grip on the bottom drawer handle.

You both stand there in complete silence, until you stand up and purse your lips, dropping the magazine on to his desk. “So how long have you had those?” you ask while side eyeing him. Dante stands there in complete shock. He lifts his hands up and defence, trying to think of an excuse. “How. Long. Have. You. Had. Those?” Now your entire body was facing him. “A-awhile it's that, I've been hesitant on asking you..”

NSFW Below The Cut X3

A bright blush covers his face as he answers your question. “Bend over the desk” you command while opening the drawer with your heels. “But Morrison-!” his sentence interrupted as he's pushed against the desk. “I don't care about Morrison, if walks in here that'll be his own problem. Now, bend over the desk, and take off your pants while you're at it”

A sob leaves Dante as he follows your command, taking off his pants and boxers while bending himself over his work desk, spreading his legs open and resting his chin on his forearms.

Meanwhile with you, you pull the strap-on out of the drawer, and you're not gonna lie when you say it's packing a decent size, 8-9 inches at least and relatively girthy as well. You notice the ring gag in the drawer and pull it out, it'll be of good use. You set the strap aside and lift the gag right in front of Dante's face. He gasps and looks back at you, you smile and giggle. “You know what to do” were the only words you said before he sighed. Shoving the gag into his mouth, you grab the straps and adjust it to your liking.

You reach back down and grab the lube out of the drawer. You grab Dante's hand and squeeze the lube on to his fingers. He looks back at you with confusion and you just smile at him. “I can't just shove this entire thing into you without any preparation, go on, open yourself for me” you continue smiling as he lets out a soft whimper.

Using his free hand, Dante spreads his ass open, allowing his fingers to slip in easier. He slowly inserts his middle finger in, soft gasps escaping him as he inserts another finger. He goes knuckles deep, making him arch his back, his free hand quivering and struggling to hold himself open.

His upper body basically falls limp as he starts to finger himself, getting lost in pleasure and completely forgetting about your presence. You grin and grab his wrist, giving him a fright in the process. You pull his fingers out and grab the strap-on from his side.

You tie the harness around your hips and grab the lube, carelessly squeezing some on to the strap, causing a little bit to fall on the floor beneath you. You stroke up and down, smearing the lube all over.

You slowly insert your strap into him, heavy moans escaping him as he grips the front of the desk. “Ah! nghhhh~!” drool slips down his chin as his eyes begin rolling back. You insert the entirety of the strap in him, the harness touching the skin of his ass.

You readjust yourself and lie on top of Dante's back, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You short thrusts cause sobs to escape Dante as tears begin to fall from his eyes, leaking onto the desk below him. Your nimble fingers remove themselves from his neck and creep down towards his dick. Your free hand wraps around his leaking cock, pumping up and down gently.

Your other arm wraps around Dante into a chokehold, making his hands move from the desk to the arm around his neck. Letting go of his dick, you untie the gag move your hand back to its original position, pumping faster than before. “Shit! You're killing me! Just fuck me already! I need it, please!” Dante's tears roll down on to your arm along with his drool.

You unwrap your arm around his throat, causing him to drop on to the desk. You grab his arms and lock them behind his back, speeding up your pace in the progress. Dante cries and moans, not caring of someone or something hears him. “God fuuuck~! Yesyes! Oh you make me feel so- so good! Ah! Ah~! Nggggh!”

Your hand lets go of his arms, but like the loyal slut he his, he keeps them there as you grab his hair, lifting his head up and biting his neck. “Yes!! Oh fuck yes! Faster, faster! Fuckmefuckme!” Dante moves his hands to his dick as both your hands grip his hair and jacket collar. “I'm g-gonna cum! Pleaseplease! Let me cum! AH!” his begs and pleas turn into a nonsense of sobs as you rake your fingers through his messy and sweaty hair. “Cum for me” you whisper in his ear.

Dante sobs and cries as he releases all over the floor, some even getting on his desk. Quite sobs escape him as his left over tears form a small puddle beneath him.

Just as you lift yourself up, Morrison busts through the door, an unpleasant look on his face. “Considering that you two have stopped fucking like two rabbits in heat, just take this before my day is even more ruined” Morrison hands you a letter, not saying another word and slamming the building doors closed, his car revving up and leaving the area just as quickly.

You set the letter aside and stare at the fucked out Dante beneath you. “What to do with you...”

[indigosuvi]

Can I request headcanons or a scenario (either one is fine) for cuddling with Nero? He's been through so much, he deserves some comfort 💙

Cuddles With Nero

age in bio when interacting. minors do not interact.

Word Count: 606 / Read it on AO3 | Offline Version

Nero had been busy all day with a mission. You were worried about him. You didn't want him to get hurt, but you also knew that it was his job. If he didn't help his uncle clean the city of demons, then they would take over and harm people. They've done it before, they'd do it again. Nero wouldn't let you join him on his missions. He didn't want you to get hurt. However, the closest you could get to going on one was waiting in the van. It still worried him. It was a middle ground, though. You got to join in if you wanted, but you weren't getting involved in the fighting. He made sure to keep the fighting far from the van so there wouldn't be a chance that you would get hit. There could still be a chance, but he kept his mind set on the fight. He didn't want to get distracted by what could happen. Getting distracted could leave him injured or worse, dead, then there would be no one to save you then. Unless Dante was here to help him take down the demons. Unfortunately, Nero was alone. He wouldn't let his thoughts worry him. He had to keep you and the rest of the city safe from harm. Finally, Nero finished the fight. There were no more demons, and the city was safe, for now. He sat in the van as the driver drove him to a restaurant and dropped him off. He headed in, ate some salad and pasta, paid, and headed to the Devil May Cry business. Walking into the Devil May Cry place, it looked almost like any other business. A desk with a wall of various guns and knives behind it. A bar to the right with a bookshelf filled top to bottom with books. Between both the desk and bar were stairs that led to Dante's bedroom and several other spare bedrooms. One of which was Nero's. Underneath the stairs were speakers that sometimes blared music when parties were thrown. It wasn't often, but it did happen from time to time.

You had been sitting downstairs reading a magazine, waiting for Nero to come home. It was a usual routine for you. However, it was getting late and sometimes he could be gone for days at a time. He would always text you before he got home or call you, however, this time he didn't. You did hear the door open and slam shut, probably Dante coming home. So, you stayed in bed. Nero made his way upstairs, ready to go to sleep, after he took a shower. He walked into the room that you shared with him. He saw that you might be asleep and was quiet as he got himself ready for bed and to sleep. He laid down next to you and quietly wished you goodnight. You turned over and wrapped your arms around him. You pulled him close to you.

"You're still awake?"

"Yes, I always wait to sleep later when you're away, in case you come home. I can see you or help you if you need it."

He smiled, "Thank you Y/N. I love you."

"I love you too. What happened to your phone, by the way?"

"It got broken. I didn't want to bother you since it was so late in the night."

"You wouldn't have bothered me." You said as you continued to cuddle with Nero.

Next time, he would be sure to call or text you. If his phone ever got broken, he had no problem using a payphone to contact you.

© SUVIDRACHE — do not copy, translate, modify, or plagiarize my work. reblogs are appreciated!

Tag List: @sunmoongoddess / To Join My Tag List Apply Here!

[vinnytotherescue]

Headcanons for Nero, Dante, Vergil, and V with pet cats?

Of course! we love cats in this household!

DMC CHARACTERS X READER: HAVING A PET CAT

Dante Sparda

+Many would think that Dante would be good around cats, well i beg to differ-

+The moment he saw the cat in your lap grabbing all of your attention and mocking him with its big mischievous eyes it signalled the beginning of a war

+He wanted a kiss from you? No, the cat was in the middle, cuddles maybe? Nope, cat was already sleeping in your lap, Dante had to take matters into his own hands

+So like every sane person would do he simply became as clingy as the cat

+He is literally stuck on you with every chance that he gets

+Are you cooking? Arms around your waist- Are you reading a book? He would make sure to scootch the cat away and get in your lap

+this went as far as arguing with the cat itself

+" GET AWAY FROM (Y/N) YOU ANNOYING CREATURE"

+"Dante are you jealous of a cat-"

Vergil Sparda

+There is a cat in the house? Vergil would simply not care, as long as it is not bothering him he is fine

+He does appreciate the fact that unlike dogs it is not all over him all the time

+At the beginning he felt annoyed every time the cat gave him attention, attention from you alone was enough a cat was an extra he didn't sign up for

+However as time passed he slowly warmed up to it, he would read his book the cat nuzzled in his lap, and drink his tea while petting it

+And of course, you were more than happy to see that they liked each other (in the back of your mind you thought they would murder each other)

+But there was one thing that annoyed him the most

+"Danteeee where are you hiding?"

+"Why the hell would you name the cat Dante-"

Nero Sparda

+That boy may seem annoyed at the beginning with your decision to adopt a cat but in the end he loved it as much as you

+At the beginning he would not give it much attention just a small pet if it came close to him

+As time went on like vergil he would get accustomed to it

+I have Nero more like a dog guy rather than a cat guy so he is never gonna be fully melting over the cat, but that doesnt mean he won't love it

+After coming home from a long mission he would long for cuddles with both you and the cat but of course he wouldn't say it out loud

"Do you want the kitty to cuddle you Nerooooo?;)"

"Oh shut up-"

V

+In general V is used to being around animals due to his familiars, so a cat would not change things that much for him

+It would be very entertaining watching his familiars react to the cat and especially Griffon

+The phrase i will feed you to the cat was especially present every time Griffon would start getting annoying

+Shadow and the cat would definately be the best cuddle buddies

+Sitting on the couch all together reading books was a must now with the cat and the familiars being your personal heaters.

"Let me go grab a blanket-"

"No worries V, KITTYYYYYY"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you everyone for reading! And don't forget requests are still open for multiple fandoms ;)