#cooking vergie

[vischys]

A dark apron tied around his waist and covering his turtleneck, Sparda's eldest leaned down over the kitchen counter to inspect the result of the dessert he has been making in the past half an hour. Dipping a spoon into the reddish-yellow creamy concoction, he takes a small mouthful as taste-testing, only for two pairs of snowy eyebrows to furrow in telltale disappointment.

“Yet another incorrect admixture...” The firstborn suppressed a sigh of trite exasperation. “Just how exactly did you make it, Mother?”

[vergil-losing-archive]

Ok 3 more since you guys seem to like these ones.

[player-1]

Hell's Chicken recap (post Canto 4)

Not sure if anyone rewatched the Hell's Chicken cutscenes (especially after Canto 4), but I love the multiple hints and pain to any future Cantos. In semi-order, here's a few moments I caught:

-Yi Sang w. Samjo's infodump on the multi-winged/legged chicken delicacy of K Corp: Oh yes, I'm already aware of this (BECAUSE DONGRANG TOLD THEM IN Lo9!!)

-Don w. Bongy!Heathcliff: (Sniffles sadly) And here I was hoping to dress him up like Fixers del Artedecer Ardiente (Burning Sunset Fixers/Fixers of the Burning Art (Liu Assocation??)), there's no need to insult him so!

-Me on 20:57-22:13 after skimming Dream of Red Chamber's Wikipedia: Wtf, Hong Lu!? Now I know your family life sucks, but you don't be to be so blasé about it! You're just brushing it off like Don!! (Just check out Liu and Base ID Hong Lu for the hint :)

-Meursault w. Outis violently slapping Bongy!Heathcliff: The force of impacts is similar to a soldier interrogating a captive enemy (Outis...wtf kind of soldier were you!?)

-Sinclair w. Ryoshu insulting Gregor's cooking skills on the battlefield: :O She's speaking with full words for once! -Gregor getting a headache after Ryoshu threw down the Mr. Krabs insult.

-Outis prefers instant-made food...Enough said.

-Also Gregor: Come on Ishmael, don't listen to Rodion. You and I were as thick as thieves in the early days (Veteran bonding? Another hint of Dante going MIA before the main story or them being in the company for years before?) [25:43 Sees Ishamel join Ryoshu's side, easily hearing the pain in his voice] -I...-I feel so betrayed right now.

-Sinclair immediately understanding Ryoshu's acronyms down to a T without question (CHICK: Chirping hesitation isn't cool, kiddo and RAFTS: Restaurant already fated to shut) And many more). It's honestly ironic since book/Limbus Sinclair explains art and emotions extremely heavily while Ryoshu shortens it, but they still have that artistic appeal.

-Ryoshu channeling her inner Yoshihide and traumatizing any poor soul who witnesses her "artistic talent" (ie. Don witnessing the horrors she committed on the chicken kebab that she refuses to explain with words).

-Yi Sang getting nostalgic over spoiled milk he drank the day before and not getting sick from it, but also getting embarrassed if anyone implies he eats terribly-cooked food on a regular basis (mostly likely ate spoiled food in his captivity and probably not remembering how to cook for himself cause of Gubo): Oh honey :(

-Sinclair taking the mantle in Round 2 w. cooking (hassled by the mom group excluding Ishmael), probably because he cooked for himself (terribly though) after his family got prosthesis replacements: Oh honey! :(

-Everything about Yi Sang's potato monologue (and 48:05 for the nervous panic in his voice when Don throws it away), also his reference of shredding chicken with his hands as a custom in his hometown at 39:47 (S Corp/District 19, but there's no further info on it's culture or Singularity).

-Meursault after verbally butchering Don's dish: Yi Sang, if this is your particular taste in food, I personally ask you to throng my teeth and prong my tongue this instant. Yi Sang: ...I have no excuse. (Also on par with book Meursault being an accountant and being extremely thorough on explaining things with brutal honesty)

-The Limbus gang actually succeeding in turning a Distortion back into a human through sheer luck and bullshittery (even if it's w. Dante and Heathcliff's help, Taii and Moses will definitely have an aneurysm if they ever found out).

-Vergi spacing out the second Don kept explaining the story past going into Eubong's, and Charon taking the Bongy plush and puts it on her window! :D

If there's anything else I might've missed (or not wanting to clog up the post with a full list), feel free to comment.

[astarab1aze]

// light blue heart, for Safe Haven. unu

muse relationship headcanon game

who curses more?

haha bee. i thought about it for a minute, honestly thinking it'd be vergil, but we must never forget bianca listens to hardcore gangster rap in her private time, like when she's gardening, cooking, or dancing. she's always cursing. sure, maybe under her breath when bobbing along to a song, but who cares? let bee say fuck--

who is more patient?

bee by a mile, i feel like. vergil's patience comes from his careful planning, until it comes down to the execution phase, then he focuses so- hard on doing the thing. bee, on the other hand, is just passive in general, so she's much more inclined to be patient and bide her time altogether. also very tolerant, but she does get very anxious and self-doubting at inopportune moments, putting her in a panicked urgency. hummmmm. i wouldn't say they actually defer much on this point, like they're similar levels of patient but display it differently. if that makes sense? idk kjdfh

who does the driving?

vergil. c'mon, as if bee's learned how to drive. :I vergil can try to teach her all he likes. he's simply better at it and she trusts him more than she trusts herself behind the wheel.

who is louder? who is quieter?

hmmmm. vergil's louder, bee's much much quieter by comparison but this has to do more with dominance versus submission, assertiveness versus passivity. their upbringing, how they survived, the reactions to their individual traumas. like at the root of this. do you get where i'm coming from homie?

who is more physically affectionate?

they're about even. they both have their positively wild moments, but, for the most part, they've always been chaste and particular with and about each other. until the need for proximity is overwhelming, or they're searching for comfort, warmth, reprieve. when they sleep together, they sleep together. when they bathe, they often bathe together. little touches, pawing in the night after a nightmare. bee's favorite spot to kiss and touch has always been his jaw, for instance. vergil gathers her into his arms, brushes his knuckles against her skin. yes. bye.

who is more likely to tease the other?

they can both be playful, but i feel like...it's still probably bee. but overall? i think they're far more serious and uptight than v and garrett will ever be skjjdhfjs i'm not going to lie. playful and loose sometimes in private, where garrett is only too happy to be coocoo for cocoa puffs with v in public kind of a deal.

who is better with time management?

vergil. all that schemin' ya dig. no, the hacking! the hacking. all his computer sorcery bee doesn't understand because computers. numbers bad. time? all she knows is morning, noon, and night. she has zero proper time management skills, especially because she doesn't generally plan for anything unless she's being sneaky. but even then, she can be impulsive so everything goes awry.... -looks at her time in hell- vergil plans and actually thinks more critically about what he's doing, even when he does stupid shit--

who wins the arm wrestling matches?

vergil ksjdhfsd but i feel like...he lets her win sometimes. but then i think he wouldn't insult her like that, but he's also much stronger than her, and it just. goes round and round. ooze, send help

who controls the music in the car ride?

they talk to each other or sit in silence, what music. shut--

who covers dinner when they order in?

vergil. i know he pays for their groceries. i know they never go out. bee cooks but vergie pays mhmmmmmmmm, that just be how it do. a little traditional in certain ways but it works for them

who is more outgoing? who is more shy?

i think vergil's usually more reserved unless pissed off, where bee is more friendly but less inclined to talk to people she doesn't know or trust explicitly, unless she has absolutely no other option. she was so terrified in the beginning, but now it's more like she's neutral? just. um. friendly with people they know, fuck off to people they don't ok

who has the more outlandish fashion sense?

vergil. it's that goddamn jacket (the fedora doesn't exist, it can't hurt us)

who starts the tickle fights? who ends them?

hmmmm. tickling? i can't see it happening, but i can't not see it happening either, like in the first place. :I i'm unsure. vergil and vergil skjdhfsd

who has the darker/more “edgy” sense of humor?

i don't think either of them have a very clear sense of humor tbh. they're both so serious... hmm. we will have to discuss.

who is more competitive when it comes to games?

what? vergil omg. he's a competitive guy. look at his and dante's interactions throughout the game. hell, look at our brief interactions when i wrote him. they has such rivalry between them sure, but also that distinctly brotherly sort of dick-pulling contestery. remember ksjdfhs 'i have a bigger dick' HAH bee wins--

who has the bigger appetite? the bigger sweet tooth?

vergil takes his tea with lil pieces of chocolate bee makes for him and burns way more calories, so vergil. i don't remember ever writing bee eat or drink anything more than lemonade, tea, water, and stew omg..... going by evidence alone ksjdhf she grew up horribly poor. sweets and such were a luxury anyway so she learned not to care about them, just filling enough foods like rice, beans, potatoes, surviving on the bare minimum literally her whole life-- she eats a bit like a bird in the first place... ah. made myself sad

who is more likely to get in a confrontation in public?

vergil. :I

who hosts the parties/hangouts? who organizes them?

bee organizes family gatherings with v and that's about it on that front

who is better at cooking? do they ever cook for each other?

they cook together, or at least vergil helps and is otherwise very involve. sometimes. he can get so wrapped up in his work! so diligent. i don't think we've ever talked about him cooking for her? not that it wouldn't happen. but i do think bee does it the most often and has learned lots of things over time, so she's better at it skjdfhsdf

who is more likely to engage in dangerous and/or illegal behavior?

vergil. he shot the succubus. >:I and i don't think he actually gives a damn about the law. knows very well about it, enough to bend and break it, but he doesn't give a shit about it-- it's his world and we're all just living in it unu as far as specifically dangerous things, law aside, they're both veeeeeeery guilty of that and covered in the evidence.

who is more likely to notice when something is wrong with the other?

they both are entirely attuned and affixed to each other. i think when vergil gets focused on his work, he ends up doing it for hours and hours (a point against him for time management skjdhfs), but when he has a minute to spare, he very much notices. bee checks on him regularly throughout the day, so she would just know faster.

who does the talking in public settings (i.e. to the waiter at a restaurant)?

reeeeeeally depends on context. she follows his lead for certain things, puts her foot down on others, but doesn't really...hm. generally speaking? follows his lead but checks him if necessary. when they're around family? bee never shuts up, but is still somewhat polite and reserved.

who is more likely to extend a helping hand & provide emotional support?

bee. beeeeee. she is the bleeding heart in this outfit, at least as far as other people go. when it comes to each other? they both do the best they can, and that's genuinely enough for them (-sweeps bee's insecurity causing her to go to hell under the rug-)

who is the bigger prankster? do they get the last laugh or do they suffer for it?

pranking? uhhhhhh. hmmmm. no

[vischys]

“That sentiment and impression are assuredly mutual, Miss Hellmare,” Vergil aimed a pleasant upturn of his lips toward the undoubtedly insightful strategist of the demonic youth lot, while having a different soft ambience that he always unknowingly aimed at Ink was no less genuine.

“I am curious as to more methods of culinary you would demonstrate as the titular home chef of this fraction,” he responded coolly to Jaron with a hint of challenge yet this time lacking envy and more supportive.

The corner of his lips curled slightly upon listening to the last part of Oblivion's remark as he couldn't but instinctively take it as a personal jab at his skill at the beginning. Yet the affront was fleeting at best as he knew better by now that the shaded girl's taciturn exterior was merely a part of her personality rather than a deliberate attempt to provoke him. The girl after all, recognized his brand of honor and just competition, hence possessing her own.

“Another form of collective pastime indeed,” he agreed with Maggie's input on the matter while giving a silent nod of acknowledgement toward Oblivion, Gerald, and Taz pertaining to the prospect of a future gaming competition. Preferably something that does not require technology in it, he added silently in mind.

And upon hearing Ruz's inadvertent assurance, felt a trifle sense of relief that their lot was open toward other things that would not involve another form of manmade crude technological entertainment.

His internal musing lasted only briefly as soon, the skittish youth, Fosh, he recalled, surprised him by taking the initiative to interact, and with a notable absence of earlier air of anxiety that seemingly radiated from the youth and therefore motivated Vergil to keep a respectful distance out of his wish to not further intrude upon the youth's space of safety. Grey blue eyes widened slightly and fleetingly, the motion too fast to be discerned before composed aloofness painted his expression once more.

“My thanks, Fosh,” the cambion put a slight yet firm emphasis upon pronouncing the youth's name as he accepted the pen and paper, it's his own way of realizing the youth's effort to extend his colleagues' welcome toward the Sparda and overcoming his earlier fear. Such effort warrants an acknowledgement.

His eyes narrowed, rather perceptible this time, upon catching sight of the pen that Fosh procured and he was now holding between long fingers. While he might be ignorant to most of humanmade merchandise and goods in general, his keen eye easily discerned and singled out quality when it was there. The genuine silver crafted meticulously into a slender shape of luxurious stationery, it was not a kind of thing he expected to be found let alone found in an establishment managed by a rambunctious group of demons albeit teenager at least, however he had come to realize that several members, his eyes flicked briefly toward Hellmare and then Ophelia who offered him a genial smile over her tea, werr undeniably wiser than their age and less refined teammates. No, it was the fact that Fosh was the one to lend him the elegant fountain pen and therefore implying his ownership upon it that secretly surprised Vergil. Indeed there was a good deal more beyond the boy's skittish exterior it would seem and that Vergil's previous deduction that Fosh must have his own brand of skills and virtues beneath his anxious conduct was true.

“There is naught culpable with individuality and spontaneity given the proper amount of astuteness to balance it,” Vergil remarked coolly in concurrence to Shdwkyz and Navarro, yet his eyes lingered on the latter, aware fully that the second in command perceived his non-verbal injunction. A smallest hint of smirk quirked his lips then, upon recognizing what injunction the irascible youth seemingly attempting to convey. It will be fun to disprove your reasonable wariness.

The cambion twirled the fountain silver pen in his fingers once, followed by a few seconds of silence as he wrote down 𝑫𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒍 𝑴𝒂𝒚 𝑪𝒓𝒚 and a series of number beneath them, both in elegant cursive handwriting. Upon finishing, he folded the paper neatly, returned the luxurious stationery to Fosh, before exchanging the paper containing the number to his residence with his demoiselle.

“I shall keep and utilize it with apposite discretion,” Vergil declared quietly that only Ink may hear as he accepted the paper containing his demoiselle number, folding it gently and carefully slipping it into his coat pocket as one would a delicate jewel.

Not intending to keep his baby brother waiting longer and risk the actualization of the threat against his kitchen utensils, Vergil straightened himself, shoulders square and the Yamato held stately in hand as he addressed Ink and her comrades with a formal stance.

“Permit me to extend my formal gratitude for your invitation,” Those words were accompanied by a slight twitch upon his lips, no doubt from the irony which the pleasant acquaintanceship he found with the youth despite his initial resignation and reluctance. ”–And the subsequent hospitality that your honorable fraction has benignantly provided me with.” The eldest of Sparda dipped his head politely toward the gathering youths. “Until our next encounter.” He bid them coolly instead of a farewell, a hint to his sentiment and intent that he was looking forward to further acquaint himself with Ink and her comrades given the opportunity.

Following his formal parting wish, Vergil proceeded to take a few step back to garner a space between him and the fraction, turning around and swiftly unsheathe the Yamato to make a cross slash in the empty air against the corner of the patio. The air thickened with demonic energy as the very dimension itself was split open to form an aperture that widened with a quiet groan into a portal that would lead him to home. But instead of stepping into it without preamble like normally did, this time Vergil paused to look over his shoulder.

He gave the gathering youth a final tilt of chin to signify his regard, gaze lingered a few seconds on Ink particularly before finally resuming his leave and disappeared into the dark aperture.

vischys​:

“In a manner of speaking,” Vergil responded to Shdwkyz’s remark matter of factly. A fraternal manner, though he refrained from adding what he deemed as an unnecessary detail. Keep Reading

Ink is bummed out that Vergil is leaving but she has to respect the fact that there’s business that is more important that Vergil must be dealing with. Life can be hectic at times. Still, she is so happy that her friends like Vergil in their first meeting.

Keep reading

[yaziyorsonhavadis]

Apple CEO’su Cook: Küresel kurumsal vergi sisteminde değişimler gerekiyor

Apple CEO’su Cook: Küresel kurumsal vergi sisteminde değişimler gerekiyor

Apple CEO’su Tim Cook, küresel kurumsal vergi sisteminin yeniden düzenlenmesi gerektiğini söyledi.

İrlanda’nın Başkenti Dublin’de düzenlenen bir törende ödül alırken bir konuşma yapan Apple CEO’su Tim Cook, Ekonomik İşbirliği ve Kalkınma Örgütü’nün (OECD) küresel vergi reformu konusunda bir çözüm geliştirebileceğini umduğunu vurguladı.

Birçok ülkede faaliyet gösteren şirketleri vergilendirmenin…

[etlunainmorte]

DMC WEEK DAY 6: Home | Family | Belonging ( V's familiars )

~ Who says the familiars won't get any love? Here is DMC WEEK DAY 6 with home, family, and belonging, featuring Shadow, Nightmare, and Griffon!

~ Enjoy!😁😁😁

***

***

I can't see anything. My body hurts. I feel like I'm being torn to pieces.

Where is my master? I could no longer hear his voice.

Only yesterday, he told us not to worry. He said everything will turn out fine.

He let me lie next to his feet. I allowed him to scratch me behind my ears.

I let him lie on my body, and my fur provided him with warmth.

I helped him cook food and fight Demons. I protected him and I know he's happy and pleased with what I've done.

I've been a good familiar but, I know I'll disappear soon.

How could I protect him now? How could I get close to him now to warm him with my fur? Master always gets cold. How could he eat now without my help? I don't want him to eat raw meat.

Is anyone there? Anyone who could protect my master? Who could lend him their fur for his warmth? Who could help him cook his meals? Please, help,...

Master's voice.

I want to hear master's voice again.

I,... wanna hear,...

***

For a moment, I saw the light.

It was dark where I came from. But, I know someone freed me from the heavy chains that bound me and helped me see the light.

But, everything went so fast like lightning.

I'm sure I felt him once, or twice. I could clearly remember how I felt his pride through my thoughts, as if his heart spoke directly towards me.

But, that voice in my thoughts. It vanished. Now, I could hear someone else. Someone stronger.

Is it him? I don't know. I want to go to him but, I can't.

I could no longer see the light,...

***

They say I'm too noisy. Hehe, yeah. They can eat Demon shit for all I care!

I don't care what people tell me, that I'm annoying, or too loud, or rude. Except when you call me chicken! I'm gonna fry your brains out if you ever tell me that, you maggot! So, don't you ever mess with me!

Now, you see what I mean? I'm annoying and rude, right?

Well, you're not alone in that. V thinks so, too, you know? Hehe, yeah, I can read Shakespeare's mind, no shit, Shirley! If anyone's getting tired of me, it's V!

But, honestly? I don't blame the skinny stick. Even I hate myself sometimes. I'm a nightmare, Vergil's fucking nightmare! I'm supposed to be fearsome, and evil, and unpleasant! The stuff of your, ahh, well,... nightmares! Yeah, nightmares,...

I don't know about you but there was something in V that I couldn't explain. Like, these past few days he looks at me like I'm a pet bird.

A pet bird, yeah. How mighty and dashing that pet bird would be.

But, ehh! What I mean is: day after day, V is starting to look at me like I'm not a nightmare! Or a Demon!

Like I'm actually his friend! A part of his freakish family of peculiar circus animals!

When we fight and I lose, I could hear V's thoughts as sharp as a knife and as clear as daylight.

Shit!

Griffon, no!

You'll pay for what you've done to my friend.

Yeah, that! He said I'm his friend, and I bet you my ass feathers he forgot I could hear his thoughts!

Shakespeare would fight on and summon the big guy, and I could literally hear his sigh of relief when I rise from my stalemate state.

Heh, I think he also forgot I'm bound to him, and that I would not vanish as long as he lives. As long as his human flesh is intact.

And honestly? I find it,... quite sweet of him.

At first, he only considers me as a tool to bring his goals to fruition. Well, who could blame the guy? I'd do the same and use poor me's powers to achieve my diabolic goals! Hahaha!

Ahh, yeah, you get my point.

Am I happy? Oh, I bet you I' am! Who wouldn't want to be a part of a family? Who wouldn't want to be considered as a best pal by someone you look up to? Who wouldn't be sort of happy if they find out that the people they care about gets sad when they go?

I do. I do care. Just like how V cared for me when he's still around.

I did my part. I fought for him. I protected him at all costs. Hell, I warned him about that Demon meat but he never listened! So, he deserved that awful diarrhea right after! Ha!

Most of all, I took care of him like what a real bird would do for her brood.

I spread my wings, offered them to him, and helped him soar high and mighty.

And now, he finally achieved his goal.

He gained true power.

And I'm only glad to say I've been considered as a vital part of that painful, yet funny journey.

As for me? This is my last flight.

Wakey, wakey, little Vergie,...

***

@dmcweek

***

[soft-stormcloud]

My name is Patton, and I’m your Guardian Angel [Guardian Angel AU]

    Synopsis: Virgil tries to kill himself, but his Guardian Angel stops him. 

    Trigger warnings: Suicide attempt (not successful), crying, depression, pills, vomiting, 

    A/N: Really weird worldbuilding idk. This was supposed to be a high school type au but I’ve been listening to people playing DND so it’s a really weird mix between modern and fantasy. Wtv.

    Virgil came in through the front door, making sure to slam it loud enough for it to echo through the entire house. 

    He had skipped his last class and turned his phone off, not to do anything particular, but to walk around town. He wandered through the shopping district, stopping at a bakery to pick up a cupcake, and drifted to a park with a duck pond near the gates. He was half paranoid that the guards would see him on their break and send him back to school, but no one paid him any mind. He just sat and ate his cupcake and watched the ducks and the sunset. 

    He had turned his phone back on on the way home and it buzzed with three messages, all from the same person. 

    Did you get detention? 

    I’ll wait here another ten minutes before going home. I’m not waiting for all the sports’ practices to get out just to find out you left without me again. 

    I’m coming over later. Don’t do anything stupid. 

    He couldn’t help the sharp pang of disappointment. He knew it was stupid, and it was childish, but he just wanted to see if anyone would notice he was gone. Adam did, but that wasn’t really a surprise. They weren’t who Virgil was hoping to hear from. 

    At the sound of the door slamming, another one swung open down the hall. Remus’s little feet slapped against the tile and, before Virgil could blink, he had an arm-full of his little brother. 

    “Where were you?!” He whined, grabbing fist-fulls of Virgil’s hair and shaking a bit.

    “Ow, Remus, stop,” Virgil mumbled, settling him against his hip. 

    Roman came into the foyer, clutching his script. “Remus! Don’t be so loud, you know your dad just laid down.” 

    Remus pouted. 

    Roman frowned. “Virgil, did you just get home?”

    Virgil’s heart rate picked up. He nodded. 

    His eyes widened. “Where were you? Has Remus eaten? Remus, did you eat? How did you get home?” 

    Remus shook his head. “Nuh-uh. I walked!” 

    Roman pressed his hand to his heart. “You walked? All the way from school? Virgil, what’s the matter with you?” He tucked his script in his waistband and went over to them, cradling both of their heads in each of his hands. “I’ve never known you to be so irresponsible. What’s going on?” 

    He shook his head and looked away. “Nothing. Sorry, I’ll make him dinner.” 

    Roman kissed Virgil’s cheek, and Remus giggled when Roman kissed his nose. “Just be quiet. Logan’s taking a nap in the living room. I’ll be in our room if you need me.” 

    The resentment-mixed-shame built up in Virgil’s stomach as he made Remus dinner. While he was cooking the grilled cheese, he slipped on some water and reached out for anything to grab to steady himself- Like the hot pan. He prepared himself for the seering burn with a small cry, only for his hand to be pushed away and his body to be righted. 

“Vergie?” Remus asked with a frown. “Are you okay?”

Virgil caught his breath, breathing heavily. He was confused, but he tried not to think about it. “I’m fine.” He sat Remus’s food down in front of him and went to his room. 

    His phone buzzed as he sat on his bed. 

    Adam: I’ll be late. Don’t ask. Should I bring my camera? 

    Virgil: no 

    He flopped back on his bed, the wrinkled purple sheets a comforting, if albeit boring familiarity under him. His room was always very dark. When he was little, he had insisted, day in and day out, that he wanted to paint his walls black. He wanted it to resemble a cave, and he wanted to sleep upside down like a bat. Roman and Logan told him that he couldn’t do that, because if he painted it black he could never paint it any other colour, and that if they ended up wanting to sell the house, that would make it much more difficult. Virgil didn’t care. He insisted. 

    Finally, Logan did it out of spite. He bought all the paint and a bar you used for pull-ups and before he did anything, he asked Virgil if he was sure. Virgil was. So they painted his walls black together, and Virgil got it all over himself, and Roman nearly lost his mind when he got home but his parents were indestructible and Virgil had never seen them fight about anything serious. After his bedtime story, they both sat down and watched Virgil hang upside down on the bar for all of thirty seconds before he decided the black walls were enough and he wanted to sleep normally. 

    He now kept faerie lights to keep his room as light as he could, as many as he could find, all over his walls, purple and blue and yellow and green. There were ripped posters from bands he didn’t listen to anymore and photographs of him, his parents, Remus, and even a few of Adam, the short time they’ve known each other. By the only window, he had pushed his ferrets’ cage up against it so they got sunlight. 

    And as much as he loved it, he didn’t think he could bear to look at it any longer. 

    He reached between the wall and his bed and pulled out a bottle of pills he had taken from the medicine cabinet in his parents’ bathroom. 

    He had always thought he would be crying when he did this, but in truth, he dried himself out at the duck pond. He didn’t feel too much of anything, just a slowly increasing heart rate and some sweaty palms. It was like his anxiety was trying to poke through, but it was buried under wrapping muscle and bones and blood. It was all… Muffled. 

    He felt kind of sick after he took all of them, but that could be because of the overwhelming, chalky taste in his mouth. He grabbed the old Mountain Dew off his bedside table and downed the rest of it. 

    Then he went to sleep. 

    xxx 

    There were flashes of white, soft, soothing white, and he was floating. It was nice, until he threw up all over the carpet. 

    “Dangit,” someone whispered in his ear. He couldn’t recognize the voice, but he wasn’t scared. “Come on, a little further.” 

    Virgil collapsed against the toilet and dry heaved, ripping a sob from his throat. It felt like his body was trying to turn itself inside out, it was horrible. He had taken the Atarax to skip this part, sleep through it, but now it was like he was in a dream, the bathroom lights blurred and his skin tingling.

    “Sorry about this,” the voice whispered before something was shoved down his throat. 

    It disappeared, and he threw up again. He coughed and gagged, smacking the base of the toilet a few times. An eternity later, he slumped back against the wall, gasping for breath. 

    “Oh, it’s not working…” They sounded panicked. “Nng, they told me not to do this… Oh, well.” 

    Suddenly, Virgil’s throat was cleared, and his stomach was empty. He sucked in a deep breath, blinking away the tears. 

    “What…” His voice came out a horrible, ugly rasp. 

    “Oh, no, don’t do that! You’ll hurt yourself. Here…” 

    A glass of water was forced into his hands. He didn’t question it, just chugged the whole thing. When he finally got his vision back, he came face to face with a boy around his age in a blue cloth dress, perched on his sink. 

    “We should get you to bed,” the boy said. “You need to rest after all this.” 

    Virgil blinked. “Who are you?” 

    “Oh, introductions already?” He giggled nervously. Comically small, pastel blue feathered wings sprouted from his back and carried him gently to the ground. He grabbed Virgil’s arm and helped him to his feet. “I’m Patton. And I’m… Well, that doesn’t really matter right now. Gosh, I can see now why we aren’t supposed to do this…” He settled Virgil on the bed and pulled the covers over him. “Oh, wow, I love your room…” He giggled. “Purple was my best friend’s favourite colour.” His voice trailed off into a murmur as he wandered around, his wings fluttering as he looked at photos and trinkets. “Well, his and about fifty others in my class… Anyway, it’s a good colour. Strong.” 

    The Atarax was pulling him in again, but… He had to know. 

    “I need to know who you are,” he slurred. 

    “Oh, you really don’t-”

    “Now!” 

    Patton tensed up, and then sighed with a subdued smile. “Very well. Virgil Sanders-Rios?” Virgil nodded slowly. “My name is Patton, and I’m your Guardian Angel. But I’m new, so go easy on me!” 

    Part of him believed this was some Atarax-induced dream- He’s hallucinated before when he took too much. It’s never been this… Detailed, though. 

    “Huh?” 

    “I’ve been assigned to you for your lifetime to keep you safe. You trying to kill yourself isn’t quite something I’m allowed to let you do, so… Rest up! You’ll feel better in the morning.” 

    Virgil stared at him. He was asian, with a light brown pixie cut, peach-toned skin, and round, hooded blue eyes. Other than the ridiculous wings, he didn’t look like an angel. He just looked… Normal. Part of him wondered if the wings were pinned on, but no, he could tell they were real. They breathed with him, fluttered occasionally, and when Patton had bent over to look at the stack of books under his desk, they stretched like muscle. 

    The only thing he could possibly get out was an astounding, “But you’re… My age.”

    Patton giggled and shook his head. “Unless you’re 315, I don’t think so.” 

    Virgil stared at him. And then he rolled over, pulled the covers up to his ear, and said, “I’m going to bed.” 

    There was no answer. When Virgil looked over again, a few hours later and in between dreams, Patton was gone.

Tagging everyone who reblogged the intro post, lmk if you want on or off the tag list:

@larry-angels @themysticfae26 @comicsimpson @anxietea-and-insanitea @nonasidesstuff @coffeewithhaiku @arri-aspects @sanders-sister @sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes @anxiousmess82161 @iamthenewqueenofgames @ninjagirl9797 @luna--28 @a-deceit-salad @plunksaysnope @lovesupportandcookies @normallyaspen

[vischys]

Vergil suppressed a sigh of familiar exasperation, nevertheless he jotted down the dessert that Dante mentioned. At least one taste had been made clear: his little brother's sweet tooth was a trait that Dante retained along with his talent in annoying Vergil.

He soon fell into a momentary of wistful silence, as he often did whenever theit mother was brought up.

“I managed to salvage her collection of recipes,” he informed his brother solemnly. “Though admittedly I am uncertain upon which I should try first.” Translation: I am not certain which of them would suit your taste, Dante.

“List your preferred meals and condiments. Your infernal junk of a food does not count.”

“I think all the food I eat counts as junk food, at this rate,” Dante admitted, grinning, reaching up to scratch at his chin. He needed a shave.. Lord knew, he needed a lot of things “Let’s see.. Apple pie. Chocolate cake. Strawberry tarts..”

[skvaderarts]

Soliloquy Chapter Six: Machinations

Soliloquy Chapter Five: Adrift

You can check out the Masterlist Here for more links to places to read!

Otherwise, you can read the new chapter below. Enjoy!

This one was a wild ride to write! And even worse to edit and prof read.

Chapter Six: Machinations

Note: Hey everyone! Thank you all for your understanding about the last chapter being a little shorter and more than a few hours late. Life happened, unfortunately. But thanks for sticking with me anyway! A special thanks to Skylarmorgan1899, Mallovarwen, BeanswithBones, HunterJamie, and RubixaSeraph for your kind words of encouragement. I had a great time responding to your comments, and seeing what you guys thought about the story so far was fascinating and helpful! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and thanks for taking the time to reach out! Now, let’s get back to this long ass chapter!

The ferry made port, it’s foghorn shattering the peaceful serenity of the coastline like a stone through stained glass. The medium-sized vessel eased into it’s designated space between two of the end docks, carefully threading the space. After the ship came to a complete stop, it anchored, finally allowing it’s sizeable ramp to lower and make contact with the road. Before they had left the mainland, one of the deckhands had taken the liberty of informing them that they would only be in Fortuna for about a half-hour before they would be returning home, so leaving as soon as possible was paramount.

With everyone now on board the van, Nico pulled up to the top edge of the ramp. Nero, who was seated in the front seat next to her, took notice and sighed loudly. Nico and everyone else on board clearly noticed, but no one said anything about it.

“Ok, now look. Let’s not do this shit again,” Nero started as Nico reached down to switch the throttle from idle to drive,” Don’t go launching off the-”

Nero’s sensible warning fell on death ears. Just for the hell of it or perhaps form pure spite, Nico floored the gas and the van went flying off of the boat, making virtually no perceivable contact with the offramp. As soon as they landed, the mechanic made a far too tight hard left and sailed up the road, homebound. Nero groaned and rubbed the top of his head as he settled back into his seat. He had just bashed his head against the roof of the van during the landing.

“Seriously, where the fuck did you get a license from?! Are you trying to kill us?!” Nero said through gritted teeth. It was a wonder that the vehicle hadn’t been totally destroyed yet. He’s heard from V during the Redgrave City Disaster that Nico had somehow tunneled through the ground to meet the mysterious devil summoner. Twice. How did a basically square van that was towards the end of its lifecycle even do something like that in the first place? Before Nico had come along and helped him fix it, the old van had barely been able to drive correctly, but act like a boring drill? Just what the fuck? Did V put a spell on it or something?

Nico reached into her front pocket and pulled out a cigarette, placing it in her mouth. “Aw, stop your bellyachin’ and shut up,” Nico said, clearly expecting him to react that way. He always did, after all. This was nothing new. “I don’t know about you, but I wanna get home before dinner starts! Kyrie’s cookin’ is amazin’ and you know it. Now unclench your britches and gimme a light, would ya?”

Nero grumbled and fumbled for the lighter that had been sitting in the cupholder between them before reaching over and lighting her cigarette. Dante burst into laughter from the back seat, leaning over his knees as he sat on the couch across from Vergil. It was always great to see someone give his nephew the same kind of hell that he gave him every day. Nico was a living form of neverending karmic punishment for Nero. Vergil simply watched the situation unfold and shook his head, fully realizing that every single person that Dante and Nero knew was probably insane. Well, except for the gentleman in the suit. He had been relatively fine, although his decision making could be called into question for spending time at the Devil May Cry office with Dante and his cohorts.

The vehicle continued down the road, dodging and weaving its way through parked cars and sudden curves as it headed towards the interior of the dimly lit city. Dante and Nico continued to poke fun at Nero as they went, sufficiently riling him up. Vergil, on the other hand, took the time to think about what they were here for. On their way to the docks back on the mainland, Dante had asked both of them what was going on and Vergil had given him a very succinct answer. He knew that it was best to not go into things at the time. Although they could have still come here without him, the eldest Son of Sparda preferred it this way and wasn’t in the mood for further obstruction of his plans. To be fair, he never had been, but in times like this, keeping things as manageable as possible was key. He didn’t have to worry about his youngest son. Despite the fact that he was their father, he had gleaned from their various interactions that V and Nero had a much stronger relationship than he had with either of them, despite the relatively small amount of time that they had spent with one another. Nero had too much to lose in this investment to just give up and call it quits. Or to cause any issues, for that matter.

Either the ride had gone exceedingly quick due to Nico’s atrocious driving, or Nero’s home had been closer to the shoreline that Vergil would’ve guessed because It took less than ten minutes for them to arrive. The worn-out old vehicle pulled into the side driveway of what seemed to be an old stone and Plaster of Paris building, unremarkable in its appearance compared to the rest of the block. It blended into the busy street, having more than likely been built at the same time as most of the other buildings. The same trademark white and grey store surrounded the first floor, with the exception of the concrete trim that separated the first two feet or so of the home from the pavement below. The upper floors, which there were two of, not counting the possibility of an attic, were covered by a simple, worn coating of medium grey Plaster of Paris. Several white framed windows covered the length of each floor, shielded by curtains inside the home. The side driveway ended in a wooden gate that separated a small yard from an alley. A few children’s toys could be seen littering the short grass. A tiny driveway only a half a dozen feet long next to the side yard led into the metal garage door.

They stopped mid-turn, leaving Nero just enough space to get out and open the folding metal garage door. After he let it up, he stepped to the side and allowed them to pull all the way in. The doors to the van opened and everyone exited through them as the door was being let back down. On the far side of the room, the inside door cautiously opened and bright light flooded the otherwise dark concrete space. A young woman with medium length auburn hair in a long grey and white dress stood in the doorway, seemingly checking to see what had made the noise. Upon seeing them, she sighed in what could only be relief and waved quietly from across the room. “Oh, your home!”

Nero stood from letting the door down and turned to face her. The pair approached one another meeting halfway in the middle of the garage and Kyrie hugged Nero around the waist, clearly happy to see him. “Sorry if I scared you, Kyrie. I should’ve said something. Everything been okay since we’ve been gone?”

She nodded happily and turned to face the rest of their guests. Nico raced up to the young woman, happy to see her bright smile again. “Hey Kyrie,” she practically yelled in glee,” We woulda got back sooner, but we got held up. Hope we didn’t miss dinner!”

Kyrie giggled at the statement and pointed back in the direction of the open door. Three small heads rapidly recoiled back into hiding from the doorway at the sight of the attention being thrown their way. “Of course not! In fact, the children and I were just about to sit down and eat. Feel free to join them. Everything’s hot. I made a lasagna.”

Nico pumped her fist, exclaiming in excitement before taking off running into the house to join the boys. She was now home and had no intention of doing anything besides enjoying a nice hot mean and relaxing. The young couple watched her go, trying not to laugh at her neverending enthusiasm for Kyrie’s delectable cooking. Kyrie then turned back to look towards the van and gasped, holding her hand up to her mouth to try and stifle her breath. She couldn’t believe the sight before her. Dante, she recognized but…

“Dante! It is so good to have you back! We were all worried sick about you,” Kyrie exclaimed joyfully, clearly eager to see the devil slayer in red. As he waived, she spared a curious glance at their last guest, slightly thrown off by the new but familiar face in her home. Nonetheless, she stepped forward, her warm smile inviting and kind. “Hello there, stranger! I don’t think I’ve met you before. Either way, It’s wonderful to meet you.”

To say that Vergi was taken aback by Kyrie’s kindly demeanor and warm persona was an understatement. So this was the young woman who Nero shared a home with? She was lovely. Despite the awkward silence that settled over the two of them, Kyrie continued to smile, paying his silence no mind. After what felt like an eternity to Dante and Nero who were watching from a few feet away, Vergil performed a gesture somewhere between a nod and a bow before quickly returning to his regular upright position. “... Likewise. Nero has mentioned you in passing. I am his father, Vergil.”

To say that Dante and Nero were both very uncomfortable with how friendly Vergil was being would have been a gross understatement.

As if it were somehow possible, Kyrie’s smile brightened. She giggled shyly and gestured with open arms to both of the twins, herding them and Nero in the direction of the house. “I’ve been hoping to meet you! Nero hasn’t stopped talking about you and what happened since you left…” She trailed off as she noticed how pale and destressed Nero looked,” But we can talk about that another time. Dinner is ready and I made extra!”

Nero shook his head and smirked to himself as they crossed into the threshold of the house. Kyrie always made extra. That was just who she was. Like her parents before her, she had always been welcome to strangers from outside of her home, especially when it was someone new to town. It was so rare for an outsider to come and visit Fortuna.

The moment that they stepped into the entryway, Nero was accosted by the presence of three messy haired children who looked like they could all be siblings. The eldest child didn’t look older than six or so and the youngest was maybe two. The middle child seemed to be about four or five, and they all sprouted the same light to medium brown curls with light brown, vibrant eyes. The children were climbing all over Nero in what seemed to be an attempt to topple him and send him crashing to the ground. Dante laughed as Nero pretended to falter under their combined attack before the children pinned him to the floor and showered him with their seemingly endless adorations. It was clear to anyone present that they had missed their adopted father and that sturred something in Vergil that he had never felt before. He hadn’t really considered it too much until now, but this was one experience that he would never have with either of his children, and he couldn’t put to words why that cut him so deeply. He recalled doing the same with his brother whenever their father returned home from taking care of some important task, but he had never considered how little things like being greeted at the door by wide-eyed children could be to be so important until now. He didn’t so much envy Nero as he did feel uncomfortable, even guilty, with the realization that he had inadvertently deprived them all of such a moment.

As if she had read Vergil’s thoughts and wished to spare him from them, Kyrie called them all from the dining room. “I’d hurry if I were you! I think Nico is planning to eat everything herself!”

The children leaped to their feet, exclaiming in horror as they raced into the kitchen, heading towards the dining room. They had no plans of missing out on food again because of their insatiable house guest. Dante headed after them, although not running. One way or another, he was going to get some of that lasagna. As Nero climbed back to his feet, Vergil looked in the direction of the kitchen, lost in thought. The room they stood in connected the front and back doors with doorways on the left and right leading to either end of the home. The walls were adorned with drawings crafted by small children and a clothing hamper willed with unfinished laundry that had probably been put down in a hurry sat on a bench against the wall near an umbrella holder. Several pares of shoes in different sizes were stuffed under it. The house was clearly very well lived in and it carried a comfortable warmth with it. Although significantly smaller than his own childhood home, Vergil would have been lying to himself if he didn’t admit that it reminded him of that long since past chapter of his life.

Nero headed into the kitchen behind Dante, stopping for a second to look back at Vergil. The eldest Son of Sparda had been totally silent now for several minutes. That wasn’t exactly abnormal for him, but Nero still felt the need to make sure he still had a pulse. “You coming or what? Because I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.” He inquired playfully. Clearly being home had allowed him to let his guard down a bit.

Vergil stared at him blankly, unsure if he was being sarcastic or genuinely inviting him to dinner. “You can’t actually still be hungry. You just consumed an entire platter of croissants an hour ago.”

Nero scoffed. “I can too still be hungry and I am. Now get in here so we can all eat. Kyrie isn’t going to start without us, and the kids need to be put to bed. It’s getting pretty late and knowing her she probably has important volunteer work to do in the morning.”

Vergil continued to state at him, this time in vaguely concealed disbelief. Nero was actually serious. Vergil folded his arms and furrowed his brow, unable to comprehend what he was being told. “So let me get this straight. I cut off your arm meer months ago in that very garage,” Vergil tilted his head in the direction of the door behind him,” And now your lovely girlfriend is inviting me in and you’re standing here just feet from where you nearly perished and insisting that I eat dinner with you and your children? Am I correct?”

Nero flinched inwardly a the unpleasant reminder and Vergil’s blunt statement, but nodded in earnest anyway. “I invited you to dinner last time you were here. It’s not my fault that you decided to be a total bastard and tear my goddamn arm off instead of sitting down and having a meal with us.” 

 Vergil would never admit it if asked, but he was taken aback by his son’s sincerity. There was no way that he had been forgiven for his actions. After all, a severed limb was no easy thing to recover from. Fresh out of excuses and questions, Vergil gave up and opted to follow Nero into the dining room. He hadn’t eaten dinner with anyone in his family in well over two decades and yet, he didn’t dread this as his logical mind told him that he should. Maybe this wouldn’t be as bad as he figured it would be…

-~-

The dinner had gone over surprisingly well, despite the fact that Nico and Nero’s middle child Kyle hadn’t shut up the entire meal. It had been a good time filled with laughs, playful jokes, and adorable children making equally adorable funny faces. Vergil wasn’t one to laugh, be he had been amused at the very least. The children were… charming. And that was to say nothing about the lasagna that Kyrie had made. It had been unnaturally delicious. The eldest Son of Sparda found himself questioning if the young auburn-haired woman possessed some magical powers of her own. Assuming that her skills had simply been overstated had been a mistake on his part, and no one at the table that night was ever going to get over the fact that Vergil had actually requested an additional serving.

Once the meal had been finished, Nero had forced Dante to help him do the dishes while Kyrie herded the children off to their bedroom. Vergil had overheard Nico say something about them voluntarily sharing a room after the attack had happened because they felt safer that way. The oldest child, Julio had sworn to protect his younger sibling, despite not being older than seven and having no experience with weapons. Vergil’s attack on the house and the near loss of their beloved adopted father had apparently been quite traumatic for them. Wonderful, now Vergil could add “emotionally scaring helpless wide-eyed orphans” to his long list of sins. As a result of his actions, there was an extra room on the main floor that they planned to use as a guest room, but right now, it was full of boxes stacked on top of a spare bed. It was unfortunately useless at the moment, which was a shame considering the fact that they would be staying the night here. The ferry ran every two hours or so, starting at around 9 am when visibility was better.  Fish was a popular export here, but fog could be an issue at times.

After Nico and Kyrie had headed off to bed, Nero joined Dante and Vergil in the living room. The two had retired here while the children were being put to bed so as to not disturb them. Nero flopped down across from them and opened a drawer on the coffee table between them, producing an elusive yet oh so familiar brown and gold leather book. Vergil sighed quietly. Now that was truly a sight for sore eyes.

“Kyrie said she put the book in here today when she was cleaning up. She wanted to make sure the kids didn’t get it. They can be pretty rough, and anything they see that’s made of paper, they draw on.” Nero said casually. He was clearly tired and in need of a good night’s rest.

Vergil reached out and took the book from Nero, taking a moment to look at it. Of all the things to survive this long, he would have never guessed that this memento from a kind neighbor would survive this long. For a moment, Vergil wondered if that man was still alive. He silently hoped that he hadn’t been living in the Redgrave city during the attack. Maybe one day he would find out. He turned the book over in his hands and opened the front cover. To his surprise, what he was looking for was still there. Funny, he’d expected it to have worn off by now.

“... I wrote my name in this book when I received it,” Vergil said simply, reminiscing about the day that the kind man living next door to them had given him such a wonderful gift,” Dante had a nasty habit of making things I owned disappear when we were children, especially if my name was not on them. The fireplace was never short on kindling.”

Dante shrugged uncomfortably as Nero gave him a disapproving look. He was worse than his kids! “Yea, um... Probably shouldn’t have done that. My bad, Vergil.”

Vergil didn’t answer verbally, but he gave a small nod. He would consider his younger twins half-ass apology at a later time.

Nero yawned as he stood up and stretched. He was at his limit for today. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m going to bed. The guest room is out of commission, for now, so your gonna have to stay in here. Nothing I can do about it tonight.”

With that, Nero headed out of the room and left them to their own devices. Unless the house caught fire, he didn’t want to hear anything but the sound of his own snoring.

-~-

It was early in the morning when they finally left the house and headed towards the docks. The sky was a beautiful mixture of several shades of orange, pink, and purple, the vibrant colors reflecting in mesmerizing swirls off of the placid waters of the large bay area that separated Fortuna from the mainland. Despite the thin layer of mist that covered the portside as they docked, the return trip almost seemed to go faster than it had the night before. Or maybe it was just anticipation. Who knew?

They arrived just after twelve. The boat pulled into the dock and anchored the same way it had the previous night, only allowing the ramp to be let down after everything had come to a complete stop. And just as she had the night before, Nico rocked off of the boat at a speed that could probably shatter the sound barrier. Nero didn’t know how it was possible, but she continued to shock him at just how dreadful she was at driving. How in the hell had she not killed them all in a wreck yet?!

As soon as they left the docks, they headed towards Magnolia’s house. She lived much closer to the docks than Dante did, which was fortunate considering that time was of the essence. The alchemist had predicted that they had seventy-two hours to get this done, but the eldest Son of Sparda knew better than most that nothing was concrete when you were dealing with the underworld, especially time. That was a very generous estimate, given the circumstances.

Dante was in his usual spot on the couch, reading one of the magazines that he had probably read a thousand times before. But it was better than talking about the matter at hand. After all, he didn’t really understand how this was supposed to work, and it would probably be easier to just ask the woman who would be casting the spells when they finally met. He wasn’t sure how he felt about this entire situation, to be honest. Up until now, he had always figured that death was pretty much final. But if Vergil could come back from the great beyond, then perhaps this could work after all. What had happened to V was awful, he wouldn’t argue that… but he would hold his opinion on this situation until after he saw the results. But a the same time, he couldn’t help but ask himself if there was a reason that more people didn’t do something like this? The death of a loved one was always agony. And it always would be. If there was a way to reverse that, then why wasn’t it more commonly used?

As he pondered this, the van came to a sudden and hard stop. They had arrived. Nero leaned out the window and looked over toward the front door, squinting to make out something. “Looks like there’s some kind of note on the door… I can’t make out what it says from here though.”

Nico shrugged, unsure of what type of response he was hoping to elicit from that statement. “Well, take your ass over there and go and get it, then! We don’t got all day!”

Nero gave her a “duh” look and popped open the door, hopping down onto the pavement. He then jogged up the steps to the front door, glancing back at the van as he went. He couldn’t quite place why, but he had a bad feeling about this. Upon reaching the front door, he found a note stuck under the knocker. It was scrawled in an elegant script, seemingly written with some sort of ink. He pulled it off the door and hurried back to the van, unsure of what to make of it. As he climbed back into the waiting vehicle, he was met with an uncomfortably tense atmosphere. In an instant, everyone seemed to be expecting the worse.

“What does it say?” Vergil inquired. He didn’t sound worried so much as he did morbidly curious.

Nero turned the piece of cardstock paper over in his hand, his forehead scrunching as he took in the information. “2460 Zephyr Court?” Is that a street around here or something?”

Dante nodded. “Yea, It’s an off-street to the one that Bobby’s Cellar is on. Haven’t been down that way in a long time. It’s the cross street at the other end of that block.”

Vergil could practically taste the disgust he felt at the mention of that godforsaken bar. If it was possible to develop indigestion from hearing a word, he would have just done it. Nico took the note in her hand and looked it over before shrugging and putting the car into reverse and heading off again. She’d had passed by that bar a while back with Nero when they were heading out of town to go take care of a mission. It was on the outer edge of town on a wooded block that headed up into the mountains. What could this Magnolia woman want them to come there for? Was this some sort of trick?

As they hurried down the road, Dante couldn’t help but note the bitter irony of their situation. Never in his entire life did he think that he’d be heading past Bobby’s Cellar with Vergil and Nell Goldstine’s granddaughter. If you’d told him that a decade or so ago, he would’ve probably written it off as an awful joke. And yet here they were, doing just that. And to try and save a member of his own family at that. Absolutely unbelievable.

After several agonizing minutes of silent trepidation, the van turned onto Zephyr Street. They scanned the outside of every building looking for the correct address, noting that the area was mostly deserted. What buildings there were seemed to be boarded up, no one having stepped foot inside of them for a very long time. As they navigated their way through the seemingly forsaken city block, Nico pointed down one of the side drives towards what seemed to be an old warehouse or factory building. “I think that might be it over there! Let’s go check it out!”

With that, she made a sharp left and turned onto a little dead-end street. As she veered right and pulled into the broken old wire fence, they all got a better look at the building. It was a two-story brick warehouse with led glass windows. In the space where a single huge sliding barn door used to be was an opening into the building. From inside they caught a glimpse of a passing light. Tall pine trees lined the entire lot, making it a very secluded and out of the way area. As such, it was very dark here. She pulled into the worn-out gravel parking lot and stopped the car, jarring everyone inside. Nico then cut the engine and handed Nero back the note they had found on Magnolia’s front door before turning her attention to her passengers. “Alright, this is the place on that note Nero found. Address matches up and stuff. I’m stayin’ out here in case we need to leave in a hurry or somethin’. Holler if you need me.”

Everyone nodded in agreement and stood up. There wasn’t any time to lose. Nero hopped out of the front of the car while Dante and Vergil took the side door. As they exited, Dante exhaled, the reality of what they were here to do sinking in deeper. 

“... Vergil, do you really think this is really gonna work?” He asked quietly. Nero had gone ahead of them to investigate the building.

Vergil stopped just ahead of his brother but didn’t turn in to face him. He glanced up, noticing that the overcast seemed to be darkening, much like his fatalistic mood at the moment. The wind was picking up as well. A thunderstorm seemed to be rolling in. He then let out a long sigh and looked down slightly, seemingly taking his brother’s words to heart. “...It has to…” He said so quietly that Dante nearly didn’t pick it up from behind him. The Youngest Son of Sparda felt the words more than he heard them. There was a note of finality and desperation when his brother spoke that he was unfamiliar with. Dante wanted to say something, but decided against it and made the decision to just follow his twin brother into the building instead. Considering how high the stakes were right now, this just wasn’t the right time for that conversation.

They entered the building and nearly walked into Nero. The younger man was standing in the middle of the space, looking around in seemingly every direction at once. The woman they had come here to meet was nowhere in sight. Nero held up the note she had left on her door and, to his surprise, the piece of cardstock suddenly caught fire and turned into a smoldering pile of ash on the floor. Nero released the remnants and let them fall to the ground, surprised but unwilling to dwell on it. He looked down the corridor into the next doorway. It led into a black room that he couldn’t see into very well.

“Hey Magnolia! You there?!” He shouted, startling all of the nearby pigeons into taking flight,” We got what you asked for! Were back!”

An uncomfortable silence settled over them. The three descendants of Sparda looked at one another before silently deciding to approach the darker back section of the building. Perhaps she hadn’t heard them? Just as they reached the doorway, a figure in a dark teal knee high dress appeared from seemingly nowhere and met them in the doorway. She seemed slightly out of breath. She bent over and put her hands on her knees, panting for a moment before standing up and exhaling, regaining her lost composure.

“Oh, please forgive me,” Magnolia said as she took several deep breaths,” I was in the middle of reading an incantation, so I couldn’t respond. Sorry for the note. It didn’t cross my mind to request your phone number before you left. But you lot are all here now, and that’s lovely because we’re a bit short on time.”

Magnolia gestured for them to follow her and they all headed into the room, now realizing that the impenetrable darkness was due to a tinted plastic screen that covered the doorway and a litany of boarded-up windows. Strange glowing symbols were written on different surfaces around the room, making up a semi triangular shape. They seemed to be scrawled in chalk or something similar. Dante raised an eyebrow at the setup. “So, where’s the blood and bones and the candles and stuff?”

Magnolia put her hand on her hip and gave him a sassy but humorous look. “You lot really are twins, aren’t you? It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” She said smiling as she turned and headed towards the center of the room,” Sorry to disappoint love, but this isn’t that kind of spell, although there is a bit of bone ash in the chalk. It’s just old chicken bones though. That said, I do need that book Nero mentioned before. I came here and set up everything while you were gone. It took me all night, so I apologize if I’m a bit out of sorts. I haven’t had a wink of sleep.”

Vergil stepped forward and handed her the aged book, careful not to drag his feet over one of the nearby symbols. She took it and nodded graciously, positioning it towards the middle of the work area. She then stepped back and grabbed something off of a nearby cardboard box. It was the hourglass from before. And the top was nearly empty.

Nero blanched. “It took a lot less time than you said it would…”

Magnolia nodded, a grim look on her face. “Yes, it accelerated considerably after you left. That’s why I started preparing this the moment you were gone. I wanted to make sure we had enough time,” She gestured towards the ground,” Vergil, I’m going to need you to make a perimeter around the outside of the symbols with your blood. Hurry, we don’t have much time!”

Vergil looked at his longtime companion as if she had lost her mind for a moment before obliging her. He didn’t have time to ask why she needed him to do this, and he had a feeling he knew why anyway. During his youth, he had studied up on this sort of thing. Although the way this spell worked was far from ideal, a direct blood bond was integral to the functionality of the spell and they had no other option. As he had done last time, the eldest Son of Sparda used Yamato to slice open his palm and apply the line around the markings. He then sheathed the blade and stepped back out of the way.

The alchemist examined his handiwork and nodded, griping the hourglass tightly. “Well then… this is it,” She said solemnly,” If this does not work as intended, know that I did everything that I could. Spells like this are complicated, and they always come at a cost. Sorry to make you come all the way out here on such short notice. I just wanted to make sure that this didn’t happen at my house, especially with all the attention demonic activity has garnered as of late. Stand back. This could be dangerous.”

With that said, everyone stepped back and watched as Magnolia began to read an incantation out loud. She spoke clearly, though no one there aside from maybe Vergil could make out any of the language used. The ground trembled as dust suddenly began to rise off of the ground and into the air. Dust swirled around the symbols on the ground, forming a circular column that rose several dozen feet into the air towards the small hole in the triple-height ceiling. The ground cracked deeply along the outline of the line that Vergil had drawn in his own blood and the air became statically charged and cold. The walls developed hairline cracks and the boarded-up windows trembled in their frames. A low, rhythmic thump could be heard throughout the room, although that could simply be their collective heartbeats hammering in their chests as the chant intensified. 

On the very last word of the spell, Magnolia took the hourglass and threw it forward towards the center of the swirling black miasma as the once small opening in the roof sheered open to make way for a white-hot bolt of lightning. It crashed down with a deafening boom and made impact with the hourglass, shattering it into a red mist and blasting everyone back against the walls, knocking the wind out of them. The black smoke streaked red and then glowed bright purple, humming vibrantly before releasing one last devastatingly powerful shockwave that succeeded in shattering the remaining glass out of every single window in the building. The swirling mass then emitted a loud, otherworldly howl before the cracks along the ground swallowed it up and snatched it into the underworld, closing with a loud boom. And then everything went completely silent.

So much for being inconspicuous…

Everyone gagged and moaned as they collected themselves and tried to force themselves to stand up. Nero was the first to succeed, perhaps due to being the youngest and therefore the most flexible. He leaped to his feet and cautiously inched his way towards the center of the room, waiving residual dust away from his burning eyes as he approached. A wall of fine dust particles floated around the area where the column of blood, chalk, ash, and dust had once been, blocking all sight. As Nero stepped through into the open space he stopped dead in his tracks. To his utter amazement and disbelief, laying prone face to the side on the concrete ground was V. 

And he was missing all of his clothing. Wonderful.

Nero couldn’t believe that this batshit crazy plan had actually worked! As he heard the others stir around him from different ends of the room, he made the split-second decision to shrug out of his coat and use it to cover him with it in the absence of another alternative. He couldn’t place why, but he felt it was necessary aside from the obvious reason that he didn’t really want to see him this way. As he wrapped him in the worn, warm garment, he noticed something that troubled him. He didn’t seem to be breathing. At all.

Nero reached up and brushed V’s hair out of his face, truly noticing for perhaps the first time ever that V had white hair. How in the absolute fuck had he missed that?! Had he been so carried away fighting that he simply didn’t pay it any mind? And for that matter, where were his tattoos? As thought-provoking as all of those questions were, he had bigger things to worry about right now. Nero carefully rested his hand against V’s throat to check his pulse in a gesture that he just knew would have made him crawl out of his skin if he were awake. After a short moment that felt like an eternity, Nero exhaled in relief. V had a pulse. Good. That was something, at least.

From his position leaned over him, he could just barely feel V’s breath ghost across the nearly imperceivable hairs that adorned his now bare arm. As he recoiled his hand, the prone man let out a ragged, almost pained cough as if the air had been pulled from his body and he had been plunged underwater, only now being reacquainted with oxygen for the first time in a long while. He gasped and then coughed feebly, trembling. Nero wasn’t entirely sure what to do about this, so he reached over and gave him a few firm but careful pats on the upper back, trying to help him clear his throat. V jerked slightly at the contact but stopped coughing, his breathing still shaky but much better than it had been moments ago. He curled up into the coat, pulling his legs closer to his chest. He seemed cold from what his brother could tell. Nero wasn’t sure if he had actually helped or not, but he was going to keep telling himself that he had. It made him less anxious.

Just then, Dante, Vergil, and Magnolia stepped forward to observe the scene. They all seemed to be in a similar state of disbelief and relief to the one that he had felt upon seeing the young summoner again. Nero sighed in relief and looked up at them from his position on the floor, totally overcome by the shock of what they had just succeeded in doing. V had migrated closer to him, the top of his head propped up against his lower leg. “... He’s actually alive,” Nero said as though he couldn’t believe the words that he was speaking,” It actually worked...”

Dante and Vergil exchanged unreadable glances and looked down at V, still somewhat unable to process what had just happened. Magnolia broke the silence with a short, crazed laugh. She was in total shock. “Oh my- I am most certainly going to hell for this one!” She looked down at V and sighed, nodding to herself in self-satisfaction. So this was who all the fuss was about. “But I have the feeling that this might be worth it. He’s a cute kid, after all.”

Vergil nodded quietly, not entirely sure what to say. Thank you would never be enough. He would need to find a better way of thanking her. “You are absolutely right, Magnolia. This is worth it.”

-~-

PHEW!! After two days of sleepless nights and 6.8k words, this chapter is DONE. Thank goodness this is the Friday release because my brain and my hands need a good break. I hope everyone enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I loved writing it. Everything is going to really kick off from here, and I am so glad that I finally made it to this part of the story! Once again, thank you all for taking the time to comment and read the story. It’s very helpful and it always makes me smile! Now, I’m going to go eat dinner… and work on the first chapter of the story that V will actually be in! Gah, it is so nice to finally be able to say that!

[fractempyreal]

* romance headcanons.

name:          Vergil

nickname:          He has titles , but nicknames tend to be ones that he doesn’t care for or ones that his brother gives him .  Verge ,  Vergy ,  Porcupine ,  Mr. no-fun-allowed ,  etc.

gender:           male. he/him.

romantic orientation:          demiromantic . Love is something he avoids at all costs ,  finding it a waste of his time along with posing as an obstacle in his path of obtaining his ultimate goal for power .  For him to develop an interest in someone ,  much less actually fall in love with them is quite an undertaking .  For the most part ,  he won’t even stay around a person long enough to even develop an interest to begin with .

preferred pet names:           He doesn’t really much care for pet names ,  but through a lot of talking ,  he tends to like the affectionate ones that Grimmjow uses for him .

relationship status:           Taken by one ( 1 ) cat man across all verses and AU’s .

favorite canon/fandom ship:         Tentatively ?   LadyxVergil as a fandom ship ,  but only with the proper development rather than just typical ship hunger of ‘ they breathed at each other so they gotta be a thing ‘ .  This is just for Vergil at least ,  other ships I can mention somewhere else .

favorite crossover ship:           In truth my favorite crossover ship with Vergil is the one that I have right now with Jarvia’s Grimmjow .  There’s a lot that’s been put into it and it’s become so organic in a way unlike any other ship I’ve had with anyone else that it no matter how much time passes ,  I still get giddy when people ask me questions about it ,  or have people compliment the ship ; ;

opinion on true love:          He doesn’t care for it nor does he seek to find it if it does exist .  Love is a human emotion ,  and  it is something he believes to be pointless in obtaining .  He sees those that believe in it ,  and how each time they’re proven to be the greater fool for having thought it obtainable .  He doesn’t have much of a positive outlook on it if I’m being honest .  At least ,  that’s how he views it in the beginning .  After he himself does fall in love ,  while he doesn’t necessarily change his stance on it ,  it kind of becomes an exception  (  but that’s also due to the fact that it’s managed to hold strong after 20+ years after he he first disappeared ) .  

Otherwise ?  If he hadn’t entered a relationship before his death/brainwashing/death/dying/death/resurrection  ( in that order mind you )  etc . ,  then his views on it would have remained the same and not to mention he’d still very much view it as a distraction ,  a weakness ,  and a sign of naïveté . 

opinion on love at first sight:         Nope .  Absolutely ridiculous .  Like above ,  points entirely to complete naïveté and the ridiculousness of humanity .  He does not believe in love at first sight at all ,  and he will more than likely show his disgust and disregard you entirely but not before making some snide remark on how pathetically vacuous you are in believing such a foolish notion .  

how ‘romantic’ are they?:           Not very .  He’s very withdrawn in terms of romance even when he is partnered with someone .  He has difficulty voicing how he feels about someone ,  and even with action ,  he tends to stop himself before he really shows any outward affection .  This DOES depend on how long the relationship has been going on and how it’s developed .  In the start ,  he’s most definitely slow to display romantic affection ,  though in the case of his current ship . . .  after many years have passed ,  he’s become slightly better ,  though mostly it still really only comes through in more subtle acts .  He’s not about to take you out to a fancy restaurant and send you random bouquets ,  but he might just linger a little longer after a kiss ,  or close talk you with a faint smile on his lips .  If you do something stupid or get yourself in a sticky situation ?  He’s probably going to get you out of that situation before you’re found out .  You know ,  stuff like that .   He’ll ensure that his partner is happy in any way that he can achieve it .

ideal physical traits:           He doesn’t really pay much mind to such things ,  seeing that physicality doesn’t lend to him actually being interested much less attracted to someone .

ideal personality traits:         Confidence .  While not necessarily cockiness ,  he doesn’t mind a degree of self-assurance in a person along with one that’s not afraid to speak their mind .  While he’s not all too keen on being questioned in his methods ,  he can respect a person that has the guts to actually stand up to waht he might say OR  what someone else might say .  He doesn’t always show that he likes how driven a person can be  (  because that’s also another aspect that he finds rather attractive ,  someone that has their own goals and work to eventually attain them  ) ,  but it is something that at times will pique his interest in someone in terms of what their motivation is for having set such a goal ,  though he’d rather observe rather first rather than ask and have them know instantly that he’s even DEVELOPED any kind of interest in them .  Despite that ,  he is someone that rather prefers someone that ,  is not only capable of being confident ,  but also comfortable in moments of silence .  

unattractive physical traits:           Filth ,  someone that sits in their own squalor without even the slightest care to put any kind of self-care into themselves and doesn’t even think to bathe themselves .  Unpleasant odors quickly picked up by a sensitive nose ,  it deters him from even interacting with the person .  Also ,  if one doesn’t even put forth any effort in their appearance or presentation .  If you’re dressed in rags and reek to high heaven . . .  He’s not even going bother looking your way .

unattractive personality traits:         Brash decision making .  Immaturity .  If you act little more than a child does ,  rushing into things without thinking through or acting just as loud and as annoying one ,  he’s really not going to much like you in the slightest bit .  Not to mention that if you’re extremely cocky WITHOUT ANYTHING TO BACK IT UP ,  he’s going to view you as nothing more than a waste of space and a whole lot of hot air .  It perturbs him ,  and continuously acting this way around him or towards him will most likely result with decapitation .  He does not like people that just lay down and roll over for everything either ,  having as much personality as that of a LIMP ,  WET RAG  isn’t going to get you anywhere with him .  Not to mention if you’re a person that’s constantly trying to view him as a good person or see the good in other people  (  trying to convince them or change them really tends to piss him off too ) ,  he is very much a man set in his ways and if you’re sitting there telling him that he can go off and pick roses somewhere and frolic through a field of wheat ,  he’ll end up offing you because he finds you downright fucking annoying .

ideal date:           He’s not one to plan extravagant dates with his s/o ,  definitely the type to plan things at home or go out somewhere nice like a quiet park or a more secluded location that he finds pleasant to spend time at .  Sometimes ,  he actually doesn’t mind if his partner chooses the location ,  though how he acts is solely dependent on WHAT it is that his s/o has planned ,  though typically they’ll know enough already to know what places would get a better response from him .  He’s not a fan of crowded ,  loud places .  For him ,  the date is more special if it’s shared between him and his s/o ,  so he’s not about to go clubbing with them .  He also does NOT like going to bars because he’s a lightweight and he’d be completely shitfaced after the second drink .  He doesn’t like making a fool out of himself ,  and that’s exactly what would happen if he were to drink .  

do they have a type?:        Not necessarily ?  He has preferences I guess ,  but he doesn’t really ‘check anyone out’  if they have a specific appearance or air around them .  He’s really so indifferent towards people that getting him to even notice you to begin with is a feat in of itself .

average relationship length:         Considering that he’s only ever been in one relationship ?  He’s like a fucking penguin .  If you manage to land him as a partner to begin with ,  then he’s completely monogamous ,  and loyal only to you in a sense .  His goals will take priority ,  and if you’re not someone that’s constantly demanding his affection/attention ,  then having a relationship with him is rather low maintenance .  If not ,  then it’s more than likely to crumble within a few weeks to days .  Though this is most definitely dependent on whether or not there’s even any romantic feelings returned on his side .  

preferred non-sexual intimacy:         Existing together in each other’s presence is the overarching one .  Cooking ,  reading together ,  sleeping in the same bed ,  he’s not one for idle talk ,  but if you’re okay with silence ,  then that’s something that will typically hang between one another unless there’s something that needs to be said .  Though on that note ,  he actually doesn’t mind talking about random things here and there . 

commitment level:           His commitment to someone is absolutely no joke .  Like I mentioned ,  he’s basically a penguin in the sense that if he does happen to actually enter a relationship with someone  (  where affections/romantic affections are equally reciprocated  ) ,  then there’s little that will come between him and his s/o .  It’s unyielding ,  unshakable ,  AND HE WOULD NEVER BOTHER GIVING ANYONE A SECOND LOOK  that’s not his s/o .  Even if he’s being directly flirted to ,  his gaze will actually seek out the physical location of his s/o without fail ,  and he’ll push past people to get to them .

opinion of public affection:         He’s hesitant on PDA .  Most often times ,  it will be his partner to initiate any kind of PDA between the two ,  as he’s not keen on public displays of affection towards one another  (  and that’s just overall .  He’s not very comfortable with being affectionate towards others  ) .  It takes him a bit of convincing ,  but he would eventually hold his partner’s hand and potentially press a kiss to their temple .  Over-exaggerated  acts are ones that he avoids as much as he can ,  along with most other affectionate acts  (  I.e. Heavily making out ,  kisses in general ,  hugs ,  sweet talking one another . . . ) .  

past relationships?:           Outside of the ship with Grimmjow ?  None .

tagged by: @breselin  ( thanks for making me suffer like this 😩 ) tagging:  @destructivour, @fourfolded, @maljefe, @grdna, @svartastr, @ahazath, @incnspcuous​, @stellamris​ ( for V or any other muse! ), @caliburnt, @nekroii, @bloominghands,  @extremepath​ ( for your current strongest muse :> ), @stylunt | @seenstars ( or any other blog ),  @inanis-coronam, @sampatii, @hopewrought | @frcgment, @fralduke, @abyssleapt, @seiyros​, and anyone else that wants to, steal it from me! 

[ask-vergil-and-v]

(To Vergie! ♥️) Vergil, go and teach your hopeless brother the basic survival skill of cooking for Sparda's sake!! He can't continue living like that🙈

Vergil: Our mother did try and teach us how to cook. Dante set fire to water. To this day, I still cannot figure out how he did it. I have taken over the cooking since I moved in, but he still orders pizza every other day.

[vischys]

⊰ ♚ ⊱

Predictably, Vergil raised an eyebrow of dispproval at Dante's rather... well, it wasn't exactly an uncultured manner seeing as the man made no mess of his soup, just rather unsuited with the manners that their parents drilled into them, yet his look was decidedly laced with nostagil affection as the sigh inevitably evoked yet another memory of their childhood of his young self concealing a smirk while silently sipping his soup properly from a spoonful whereas Dante earned a scolding for consuming his soup in the same exact manner as he was currently doing. Taking the man's current state of debilitation, the elder twin decided to disregard his lack of "fitting" table manner whilst secretly... relieved that some things of and between them remained despite decades of bitter separation and bloodshed.

An open expression of delight bloomed upon Vergil's visage then following Dante's recognition. It was nigh similar to the expression his child self used to make when either Sparda gifted him a new book, or that very moment Eva bestowed upon them their respective amulet: a pure expression of childlike happiness.

“It was made with her recipe,” Vergil confirmed with a rare talkative tone as he put down the glass of water on Dante's tray, evidently pleased that Dante could discern their mother's signature in the soup he made, for it meant he had succeeded in recreating her recipe. “I was concerned earlier whether I have added the exact amount of miso into the broth as her instruction is rather contingent on that.”

@secondborn-cambion ━ continuation of this.

[mrs-mystica]

When Helping Becomes Painful | A Sanders Sides Story

Alternative title : Selfishness vs Selflessness || Virgil Edition ||

All Virgil wants is Thomas to be happy, but what if it comes at the price of his own sanity ?

TW : Suicidal thoughts, anxiety attacks, mentions of self-harm, self-hatred, angst, cursing

Also : Bad grammar from a french speaking person

Masterlink

Chapter 7

Virgil POV

I wake up in my bed. For once, it seems that I’ve slept ok. I actually feel kinda rest. I guess after the emotional wreck I was yesterday, I must’ve been too tired for my mind to be able to disturb my sleep. I look around me, still a little bit dizzy from waking up. My stomach was screaming famish so I decided to get up to go grab some food. As I open the door, I’m disturbed for a moment. It’s so weird for me to open my door to these black walls. It’s been so long since I’ve been in this house, I was kinda used to the Mindscape. I look at my feet, a little guilt coming through me. I wonder how they are doing, if they are not too much disturbed by yesterday events. It was kinda all of a sudden, I’m not sure what to expect. I hug myself, still fixing my shoes. I wonder what they thought of it, what they think of me? I didn’t exactly explain myself or anything.

- Heyyyy Vergie ! How is it going my dear?

I’m forced out of my thoughts by a joyful voice. I suddenly turn around, as I wasn’t expecting someone else to come meet me, and I see the duke… hanging from the ceiling. Actually, he’s upside down, defying gravity like it’s no big deal. I raise my eyebrow as I see him walking towards me, on the ceiling.

I must’ve been giving him a weird look because he suddenly starts laughing, hitting his knees like I’ve done something hilarious.

- Ho ho ho ho! Your face is priceless! Poor little Virgie! Don’t worry, you’ll get used to my little eccentricities again!

I give him a timid smile, as I’m not entirely sure how to react to him. He’s kinda messing up with Thomas a lot, and the three others told me to not interact again with him, that he was a bad influence. On the other hand, when I used to live with him and Deceit, he wasn’t so bad. Yeah, he was acting like a kid and used to pull some pranks on us, but other than that… Maybe I should stop listening to what they say and automatically consider what they tell me as ultimate truths.

I decide to give him a try. Let’s start again.

Remus did a backflip and landed next to me, on the floor this time, like a normal person. He then put his hand on my back.

- You must be hungry! Let’s go get something to eat!

I nod and we head to the kitchen. I don’t quite remember where it is, but fortunatly Remus can guide me.

As we enter the kitchen, Remus started jumping around and grabbed a pan. He looked excited at me, like a child with too much energy.

- We got to celebrate your first day back home! I’ll make breakfast for all of us!

I look at him, suspicious.

- I know it’s been a while since I’ve been here, but I’m pretty sure Deceit prohibited you from cooking since you’re… ahem… let’s say “clumsy”.

- Oh COME ON Virgie! This is a special occasion! And I’ll let you know that I can definitely cook!

I stare at him as he takes a spatula… upside down. This is definitely going to end badly, even if I wasn’t anxiety I would be able to see how this is gonna end. But, hey, this could be entertaining. So I stayed there, staring at him, far away from him to be sure I’ll be safe if something happens, and I giggle as I’m imagining how he could fuck it up.

As the duke had his head in the fridge to get the ingredients, Deceit joined us. He sees my first as I’m standing outside of the kitchen.

- Hello Virgil, how are you doing on this gloomy morning?

- Well hello Damian, I’d say this is a sunny day, but I’m doing ok.

He giggles a little, hiding his mouth with his gloved hand. He then asks me what I was doing outside the kitchen. It’s my turn to giggle as I point to him Remus. The creative side was looking at the eggs, mumbling that it shouldn’t be too hard. I see the colors washing off Deceit’s face as he sees the duke. He jumped on Remus and tried to grab the eggs and the spatula, panicking a little bit. Remus was surprised by Deceit, but he managed to defend himself, trying to keep the items in his possession.

- REMUS! GIVE ME THE EGGS AND THE SPATULA BEFORE YOU DO SOMETHING STUPID!

- BUT I WANNA COOK THE BREAKFAST!

- NO YOU DON’T, PUT THOSE DOWN!

As they are fighting, I’m laughing my butt off. It’s been so long since I’ve laughed genuinely like this. But I can’t help myself my I see these two dorks together.

The deceitful trait finally managed to remove the items from Remus’ grab, which left him angry, mumbling to himself in one of the corner of the kitchen.

- So I’M going to make the breakfast, he says as he looks at Remus, but you know Remus, it is a good idea to celebrate Virgil’s arrival by eating all together.

The creative side relaxed at Deceit’s words and his face lightened up a little bit.

As I watch them in the kitchen, I tell myself that maybe staying here wouldn’t be so bad.

[virgil-patton-roman-and-logan]

The entirely edible meal (A Sshorrorfamily Thanksgiving)

Trigger warnings for torture, injury, food, food poisoning, dysfunctional family, and altogether darkness. Please tell me if there is anything I missed, and be careful.

Thanksgiving. One of the joys of being American. Virgil had managed to stay in his room without getting in trouble for a surprisingly long time, but he knew there was no way Patton would let him isolate himself during such a family-oriented holiday.

At least he was confident in this ability to hold up better than the others. His mouth was constantly in pain from the stitches binding it shut, but unlike the others, he never had to worry about saying the wrong things.

Opening the door to his room, he was hit with a wave of questionable smells that could best be described as highly sweetened decay. Roman was spacing out on the couch downstairs. It took him a little while after Virgil sat on the couch next to him to notice that there was someone else in the room.

“Oh, greetings, Virgil. The nightmare and his little pet are cooking for tonight, if you were wondering about the smell.” Roman spoke in a whisper so that no one but Virgil could hear his insults. Virgil nodded. That would definitely explain the smell.

“You're lucky.” Roman sighed, furrowing his eyebrows. Virgil looked at him questioningly. “He rarely makes anything that you can suck between your stitches. You're not the one who actually is going to have to eat this.”

Virgil thought it over. Roman was right. Patton likely wasn't going to make anything he could have. Getting through Thanksgiving would be easy, as long as he kept his mannerisms polite and ignored the smell.

Score.

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

“Alright everyone! Dinner time!”

Virgil walked into the dining room. Logan, avoiding everyone’s gaze, was putting a large bowl of mashed potatoes on the table. The mashed potatoes were the only normal looking food in the room. The rest of the table was covered with various repulsive attempts at cooking. The crown jewel was a dead turkey on an elevated plate in the center. The turkey, clearly not properly prepared, still had a beak and some burned feathers. The neck was gruesomely broken. Noticing Virgil and Roman’s gazes, Patton explained.

“I kind of did the turkey last minute. I’m sure it's fine, though!” His eyes dared them to disagree. Roman sat hesitantly. Virgil tried to suppress a smirk as he turned towards the fridge hoping for a protein shake.

“Oh, Virgil! Since it's a holiday, I made something for you, too!”

Virgil froze. Crap.

Patton went into the kitchen and brought out a glass of a lumpy substance, too dark a shade of red to be just blood. A big pink twisty straw rested in the thick substance.

“Here you go, Vergie! I haven’t seen you drink anything in a while, so I worked extra hard on it. It’s good to see none of my hard work is going to waste!” Virgil did his best to hide his hyperventilation. No way was Patton going to let him out of drinking the whole thing.

Virgil took the cup and sat down at the table, Patton’s eyes and smile never leaving him until he was in his seat. Patton giggled. “Okay, guys! Now that everyone has food, we can start eating!”

Virgil took deep breaths in and out. He had to do this. He had no other choice. He just had to gather his wits as much as possible and dive into it. He stuck the straw in a gap between two of his stitches and counted down in his head.

Three, two, one, go.

He had to do everything in his power to keep himself from gagging noticeably. The drink had no single flavor, instead having many clashing ones, but the most prominent taste was that of blood. The small chunky bits that made their way into the straw varied from gelatinous to meaty.

“Is everything okay, Virgil?” Patton’s tone sounded anything but sincere.

Virgil nodded, forcing himself to swallow the putrid substance. He continued to drink, only taking in a little at a time to keep noticeable disgust from showing. He took sips of water in between to wash it down, and eventually realized that the taste was lessened if he breathed through his mouth.

Even still, it was unbearable. He had the constant feeling of vomit rising in his throat and tears pricked at his eyes. He heard the others talking, but the act of suppressing his revulsion kept him unable to focus on any of it.

Ten long minutes later, he had finished his drink. The remaining too-large chunks rested on the bottom of the glass, refusing to enter the straw. Normally, he would have known better than to leave the table early. Today, however, he was too frightened and nauseated to think clearly. He drank the rest of his water in a couple of gulps, then quickly headed to his room.

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

Virgil had long realized that a stitched mouth clearly caused more harm than protection by the end of the day. Naturally, being forced to drink whatever that was wasn't the end of his problems. About an hour later, food poisoning had set in, made nightmarish by the fact that he couldn't open his mouth. He curled up in his bed, tears leaking from his eyes as futile attempts to vomit made it hard to breathe.

He heard the door to his room open and tensed. There was only one person who entered his room without knocking. His mind raced, trying to figure out what Patton wanted from him.

“Y’know, Virgil, I thought you knew better.” Virgil forced himself to meet his eyes. His face radiated false pity, and he held a plier in his left hand. “You know better than to leave a family meal. And on Thanksgiving too!” Virgil shrank into his covers. Maybe if he shut his eyes and pretended this wasn’t happening, it could be some kind of food poisoning induced fever dream.

But it wasn’t a dream. The dark blankets surrounding him remained as real as ever, and so did Patton’s voice.

“You know I can’t let this slide. Give me your hand.” Virgil looked at Patton again. The pliers were open, and Patton’s other hand was held out expectantly. Shaking, Virgil put his hand in Patton’s and shut his eyes again.

The last thing he felt before losing consciousness was his index finger breaking.

[demon-blood-youths]

Please 🌺 to every youth Vergie has the honor to have encountered thus far: Shdwkyz, Navarro, Jaron, Rust, Oblivion, Taz, and Gerald.

🌺 - Does your muses have a favorite flower? Why do they like it?

Shdwkyz

Shdwkyz's favorite flower is the White Chrysanthemum. The reason behind it is because the flower to Shdwkyz symbolizes rebirth, truth, and purity.  In Japanese culture, it also means longevity, rejuvenation, and nobility. 

However, there is another important meaning with this flower. 

One that has to do with death. 

In Shdwkyz’s opinion, the flower serves as the harsh truth and death is part of life. That’s why he likes wearing white which serves as a psychological tactic towards his enemies when he goes out hunting. 

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Navarro

Loves orange flowers because to Navarro, it looks good and stands out. He has no knowledge of flowers and has trouble remembering their names. However, his favorite is Cymbidium Orchid. 

Just like Navarro, it symbolizes his boldness and his pride despite being young, doesn’t have a lot of abilities like his friends and that includes his height.

That said, he is not afraid to speak out and doesn’t let anyone walk over him. 

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Jaron

Jaron’s favorite flowers are yellow roses. Just like his presence including his delicious cooking, he cheers his friends on the team by lifting their spirits up. 

Jaron likes to use this flower as a way to decorate the kitchen just to lighten the mood for everyone who comes in. This is yellow roses symbolize as it features Jaron’s personality. 

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Rust

Rust’s favorite flower is Gladiolus flowers. Because the shape of its leaves looking like swords, Rust finds them relatable since the swords are protecting something precious ( the flower ) to him. Rust at a young age is fascinating with the stories of knights and knighthood. Just like the flower, the Gladiolus defines faithfulness and integrity which Rust has and believes in the faith of his friends since he trusts them and they trust them. This also includes the strength of character as Rust is headstrong.

That is why he picks Knight as his last name when he became a demon. Plus, it’s the flower that his human mother and his devil, Ironia likes.

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Oblivion

Oblivion’s favorite flower is Anemone. She likes the simplicity of the flower and how dark blue it is. She doesn’t care much about flowers however the flower represents protection against evil, bad omens, and bad luck. Despite Oblivion’s emotionless expression and monotonous tone, her actions prove to be telling as she fiercely protects the people she cares about. Her friends and her father. 

Used to be the victim of bullying, she knows evil when she sees it.

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Taz

Taz’s favorite flower is Sunflowers. Sunflowers symbolize friendship which Taz wants. To have friends and make friends. Just like Ink, she also wants to friends and she looks up to Ink as her cool big sister.  She also looks up to his friends as big sisters and big brothers. She always wants to cheer her friends up.

Her admiration of her friends comes from her big brother, Tasin who left her in Hellmare’s care.

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Gerald

Gerald’s favorite flower is the Gerbera Daisy. He likes the green flower because it reminds him of home and makes it feel calm. That’s why he prefers wearing green or turquoise sweaters. Not to mention, it cheers him just like the flower intends to. As Gerbera Daisy is one of the most popular flowers in the world making Gerald doted on by his teammates due to his innocence and purity.  Just like the flower, these big and bold flowers are a symbol of cheerfulness and purity

That said, Gerald wants to become strong and smart so he can protect his friends from danger when he grows up.

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@vischys