#in order to fit in and have a happy rest of her long life

[svt-luna]

𝜗℘ MOONSTRUCK

❛ 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘰𝘧 𝘶𝘴 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘤𝘬. 𝘰𝘩, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘨𝘰 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘻𝘺 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺. 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦, 𝘧𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘯, 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘻𝘺 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺. 𝘸𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸— 𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘯 𝘦𝘤𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘺. ❜

timeline: 2022

synopsis: Jeonghan’s life had always been filled with quiet realizations about Luna— the way he loved her, the way she changed him— but nothing struck him harder than the moment he knew, with unwavering certainty, that he wanted to marry her.

wc: 5.2k

warnings: heavy narrations!, cursing, fluff, slight angst?, established relationship, slight suggestiveness, pda, flirting, lovey dovey type shit, Jeonghan the simp, Jeonghan’s pov, realizations, fluff, fluffiness galore, Luna through Jeonghan’s eyes, tooth-rotting fluff, prepare to feel single

there will be references to my one-shots If Only, Can I Be Him?, Talking To The Moon & His English Love Affair. so if you haven’t read those yet, i advice you do so in that order to understand certain references. just a heads up, this one-shot in general is narration heavy— so if you are not into that then this is not for you. happy reading, my loves 💛

wrote this in a plane btw so i was lowkey out of it 😖 anywho… i am currently in nyc with the fam for a little vacay moment!! (where are all my nyc babies?). but do not worry i will still be updating you, my lovelies 💕💕💕

also— Moonstruck has to be one of my favorite enhypen song, so please listen to it whilst reading 😩

╰ ౨ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST ╰ ౨ৎ writings masterlist

Yoon Jeonghan had a lot of realizations in his life.

Some came quietly, like the way water gradually soaks into dry earth— soft, subtle, and almost imperceptible. Others hit him with the force of a summer storm, striking through him like lightning until he was left with no choice but to accept whatever truth had settled into his bones.

And as he looked back over the years, he realized that most of these moments, these slow burns and sudden epiphanies, had something to do with her.

Luna.

Or perhaps he should say Bae Jiyeon, the name he had first known her by, the girl who had once been nothing more than a fleeting, half-formed thought in his mind, an image that lingered for days on end, until it somehow grew into something far more potent than he could have ever anticipated.

He could still remember that first day, as if he were sixteen again and stepping into the PLEDIS practice room. It was the place where dreams were shaped and shattered, where sweat and sore muscles were the only constants in a world of shifting goals and ambitions.

He’d barely been a trainee himself for long, only beginning to understand the rigor and relentlessness that defined their lives. But then, she walked in— young, pale, her figure petite yet carrying an unexpected intensity that captured his attention before he even realized he’d been looking.

At first glance, she seemed worlds apart from everyone else.

The other trainees around him had a raw eagerness, a nervous energy that crackled in the air, almost tangible as they lined up, shuffled from one end of the room to the other, and followed orders.

But she…she was different.

She wore all black, from her fitted pants to the leather jacket draped over her shoulders like armor. Her long black hair cascaded down her back, catching the light as it swayed with her every movement, and her gaze was fixed straight ahead, cool and detached.

There was something fierce in the way she held herself, head high and shoulders squared, as though she were bracing against an invisible force. She looked strong, resilient, like she had already fought battles the rest of them couldn’t even imagine.

But there was something else, too— something Jeonghan noticed as he studied her face more closely.

Beneath that hardened exterior, there was a glimmer of uncertainty in her eyes, a subtle flicker of doubt that softened the edges of her seemingly unbreakable facade.

It was a vulnerability he hadn’t expected, and somehow, it made her even more striking.

Jeonghan remembered feeling oddly compelled, even captivated, by the sight of her. He didn’t know her name, didn’t know anything about her, but there was something about her presence that lingered with him throughout the day, like the haunting melody of a song he couldn’t quite remember.

Later, as he stood off to the side with Joshua, he found himself mentioning her in an offhanded way, trying to sound casual, even though his mind had been drifting back to her constantly since she’d arrived. “I met a pretty girl today,” he’d said, almost as if the words slipped out before he could hold them back.

He remembered the slight grin Joshua gave him, the amused raise of his eyebrow, the way he nudged him teasingly. But Jeonghan had only shrugged, though his heart beat a little faster just thinking about her.

“I still don’t know her name. I’ve seen her a few times… she’s really pretty,” he admitted, not even fully understanding what that meant yet.

He didn’t know her name, her story, or anything that made up the person she was, but he felt an unexplainable urge to be near her, to talk to her, to unravel the mystery she seemed to embody. He’d even mentioned wanting to sing a song for her— an impulsive thought, one that made Joshua laugh, but Jeonghan had meant it.

It was as if his heart had started composing its own melody, one that was meant just for her, even though he barely knew her.

Looking back, Jeonghan realized he had a crush.

Something innocent and admiring, a quiet kind of admiration that made him feel like he was sixteen and stumbling over emotions he hadn’t quite figured out yet. He wasn’t sure if it was her strength or that flicker of vulnerability she tried so hard to hide, but something about her had him captivated from the very first day.

She had an aura of defiance, a spark that made him want to get to know her, to be the one who could see past her armor and find the person beneath.

That day, he remembered mustering up the courage to approach her. It wasn’t like him to be shy, but something about her made his pulse race, his heart hammering in his chest as he rehearsed a casual greeting over and over in his head.

Jeonghan remembered telling himself it was no big deal, that he just wanted to be friendly, but he couldn’t ignore the way his hands felt a little clammy or the way his stomach twisted in anticipation. He walked up to her, each step making him feel strangely vulnerable, and when she looked up, her eyes widened in surprise, clearly not expecting anyone to approach her, least of all him.

“Hi,” he’d said, his voice somehow steady despite the nerves buzzing under his skin as he extended his hand to her. "I'm Jeonghan. What's your name?"

She looked at him, still wide-eyed, and for a brief moment, he thought she might brush him off or walk away. But then she spoke, her voice low and soft, and it was the first time he heard her name slip from her lips— Jiyeon.

"I... I'm Jiyeon," she had managed to say, her voice uncharacteristically small but she added, almost as an afterthought, “Or Luna... you can also call me Luna."

"Jiyeon or Luna," Jeonghan repeated, his smile widening. "Welcome. If you need anything, just let me know."

And with that, she became more than just a pretty girl in black.

She was Luna.

Jeonghan had never forgotten that first meeting.

There was something about it that had lodged itself deep in his memory, a tiny fragment of time that somehow held more weight than it should have.

And from that moment on, Jeonghan knew he wanted her as a friend.

It wasn’t just a fleeting infatuation or a passing interest. He wanted to get to know her, to unravel the layers she hid behind, to be the one who could make her smile, who could coax out that side of her that didn’t need to be so guarded.

She intrigued him in a way he couldn’t quite understand, but he was certain of one thing— he wanted her in his life, and he remembered wanting to do whatever it took to make that happen.

Then years later came Luna’s drunken confession.

Jeonghan remembered that night with a clarity that was almost painful, the kind of memory that stuck to the walls of his mind, refusing to fade even as the years slipped by.

He’d never thought that a single night could shift the axis of his world, could take everything he thought he understood about himself and turn it upside down. But there it was— a confession, raw and unguarded, slipping from her lips in a haze of intoxicated vulnerability.

Luna, now his best friend, his closest confidante, the girl who had once been a stranger in a leather jacket with her chin held high, had confessed her feelings for him, and it had felt like a bolt of lightning splitting the sky.

His heart had leapt in his chest, a sudden surge of warmth spreading through him, leaving him feeling almost weightless in the moment. It was as though every small, quiet feeling he’d harbored for her over the years was suddenly brought to the surface, illuminated by her words in a way he could no longer deny.

She wanted him.

Her— Luna, fierce and proud, the girl who held her own in every room she walked into, the girl who was now his bandmate, his partner in this shared dream that they were slowly but surely achieving.

The joy he felt was electric, sharp and consuming, wrapping around him like a second heartbeat. He’d wanted her for so long, in ways he’d never fully let himself acknowledge. She was his best friend, yes, but she had become something more, slipping past every defense he’d tried to put up.

Yet, beneath that happiness, there was a clawing fear, an insidious weight pressing down on him, trying to bring him back to reality.

This was dangerous— they were dangerous.

They weren’t just Jeonghan and Luna anymore, two kids fumbling through their feelings. They were bandmates, members of the same group striving for the same goals, reaching heights together that they had once only dreamed about.

Everything they had worked for, everything they had sacrificed, was now intricately bound up in one another, in the success of the team, the harmony of the group.

If Jeonghan let himself want her, if he gave in to the feelings he had, it wasn’t just his heart at stake— it was all of them. It was the future they were building.

And the thought of jeopardizing that for his own selfish desire felt almost reckless.

Jeonghan remembered the way she’d looked at him that night, her expression raw and open, her guard completely down. He’d never seen her like that before, vulnerable in a way that made his chest ache.

And then, as the days passed, he noticed her pulling back, withdrawing in a way that felt almost calculated.

At every music show, every practice session, she managed to dodge him, carefully positioning herself on the opposite side of the room, turning her focus to anyone but him. She laughed with the others, exchanged inside jokes and friendly nudges, but when it came to him, there was a distance, a wall he could almost see growing between them. Her laughter never quite reached him, her gaze skimming over him as though he were nothing more than an afterthought.

It tore at him, that silence, the sudden shift from the closeness they’d shared to this careful, almost surgical separation. And it was in those quiet, lonely moments, watching her slip further away from him, that he realized he was willing to wait for her.

Jeonghan didn’t know how long it would take, or what it would mean for them, but he understood then that he couldn’t let her go completely. She had become too much a part of him, ingrained in his life in ways he couldn’t easily unravel.

So he held back, giving her the space she seemed to need, hoping that, in time, they would find their way back to each other.

Then came that night in the elevator, a memory that felt like a scar, a moment he would come to regret.

It was just the two of them, the air thick with an unspoken tension, the weight of their silence pressing in from all sides. He had wanted to tell her everything, to let her know that he felt it too, that he cared for her in ways that went beyond friendship, beyond the boundaries they’d so carefully constructed.

But the words wouldn’t come.

Instead, Jeonghan remembered hearing himself politely turning her down, saying things he didn’t fully believe but felt obligated to voice for the sake of professionalism, for the team, for the dream they were all chasing together.

He remembered watching as her expression shifted, her eyes widening in hurt before she blinked it away, forcing herself to remain composed.

In that small, confined space, he remembered seeing the walls going up around her, the protective armor slipping back into place.

Luna’s face was calm, expressionless, but he could see the way she clenched her fists, the slight tremor in her jaw as she forced herself to act unaffected. She gave him a nod, brushed it off as though it meant nothing, but he could see the effort it took her to hold it together. And then, as the elevator doors slid open, she bolted out, practically running down the hallway to her apartment, which was just next to his.

Jeonghan remembered standing there, frozen, watching her go, his heart sinking as he realized the magnitude of what he’d done.

Jeonghan remembered hurting her, far deeper than he’d intended, and he didn’t know how to fix it.

The next day, her eyes were red and swollen, the evidence of a night spent crying she tried to brush off with a smile, claiming it was the result of an emotional book she’d been reading. She laughed it off with the members, shrugging away their concern, but Jeonghan could see the truth in her gaze, the shadow of the pain he’d inflicted.

She avoided looking at him, her smile never quite reaching her eyes, and he felt a cold, sickening guilt settle in his chest. He had wanted to protect her, to keep their friendship intact, but instead, he’d left her hurt and alone.

It took Jeonghan a year to come to terms with it, a year of distance and polite indifference, a year of watching her laugh and live her life without him. But in that time, he realized something profound, something that had been there all along, buried under fear and caution.

Jeonghan realized he didn’t want this.

He didn’t want to keep pretending, to continue living his life as though she hadn’t become an irreplaceable part of him. She was there in his thoughts, his dreams, lingering in every quiet moment, every small ache that reminded him of what he’d let slip away.

He was done holding back, done letting his fears dictate the course of his life. He wanted her, wanted her laughter and her fire, her strength and her vulnerability. He wanted all of it, and for once, he didn’t care about the risks.

In that moment, he made a decision, one that felt as inevitable as the pull of the moon itself. He was going to make it right. He was going to show her that the feelings she had confessed, the feelings he’d once denied, were mutual.

Jeonghan was done pretending.

And with that realization, as clear and unyielding as the moonlight spilling through his window, Jeonghan realized that he loved her.

He was in love with her.

It was as simple, and as complicated, as that.

Jeonghan remembered the night they both finally snapped.

Jeonghan could remember every detail of that night, as though it had been etched into his memory with a fine-pointed needle.

The air had carried an electric charge from the start, a spark that simmered quietly beneath the laughter and celebration at Wonwoo’s birthday party. All fourteen of them were there, gathered together, lost in the rare joy of unwinding without the pressures of rehearsals, schedules, or the carefully curated masks they wore in public.

It was just them, SEVENTEEN, each one a distinct voice in a familiar chorus, but Jeonghan’s focus that night was singular— anchored on Luna.

He remembered watching her from across the room, how she moved in and out of conversations, her laughter ringing out like music against the low hum of the party.

There was something mesmerizing about the way she threw herself into the moment, like she could forget everything except the happiness of right then and there. She sang with a carefree abandon when the music started playing, her voice dipping into laughter as she pretended to hold a microphone, her eyes shining under the dim, warm glow of the lights.

Jeonghan watched her dance, free and unrestrained, her body swaying to the beat as though she were in her own world. She had this undeniable energy about her, something that seemed to draw everyone in and hold them captive, but for him, it was more than admiration.

It was longing— a deep, aching pull that seemed to only grow with each glance.

Jeonghan felt the tension winding tight in his chest as he watched her that night. She looked carefree, radiant in a way that made his heart clench, as if reminding him of every moment he’d denied himself the luxury of wanting her.

And as the night stretched on, as the party began to wind down and the others drifted off in groups or pairs, he found himself stepping forward, offering to take her home.

It wasn’t unusual— he was used to looking after her in little ways, making sure she got back safely, but this time, something felt different.

Jeonghan remembered how the air between them was charged, thick with a tension neither of them acknowledged but both seemed acutely aware of.

The car ride was quiet at first, the city lights flashing by as he drove, illuminating her face in quick bursts of neon and streetlamp glow. But beneath the silence, there was a simmering intensity, an unspoken anticipation hanging in the air.

Luna was close— closer than she’d been in what felt like an eternity, and he could feel her gaze flicking toward him, the barest hint of a smile playing on her lips. He matched her look, his eyes glinting with the same spark, the teasing edge of banter slipping naturally between them.

There was a flirtation in the air, a playful exchange that held layers beneath the surface, words that hinted at things they’d left unsaid for too long.

Jeonghan remembered feeling his restraint slipping, his usual control fraying with each passing moment. He’d spent so long keeping his feelings locked away, buried beneath friendship and professionalism, but now, sitting beside her with only the hum of the car engine and the quiet pulse of her presence, he could feel himself unraveling.

Luna was right there, just a breath away, her eyes daring him to cross the line they’d both been dancing around. His heart hammered in his chest, a steady, insistent rhythm urging him forward, and before he knew it, he was leaning in, drawn by a magnetic pull he could no longer resist.

Jeonghan remembered when their lips met, it was like a spark igniting a fuse. He remembered the sensation vividly— the warmth of her mouth against his, the softness of her lips, the way she tasted like a mixture of the wine she’d sipped, the lollipop she had been toying in her mouth, and something indescribably, unmistakably her.

It was dizzying, the kiss slow and lingering at first, each second stretching into something that felt endless.

But then, something shifted, a hunger building between them that neither seemed able to hold back. It was as if every emotion they’d kept bottled up over the years was spilling out in that one kiss, a flood of passion and longing that overwhelmed them both.

Jeonghan could feel his heart pounding, a fierce, wild beat that echoed in his ears as he pulled her closer, deepening the kiss with a desperation he hadn’t known he possessed. He felt as though he were finally breathing after holding his breath for too long, each touch, each press of her lips grounding him in a way he hadn’t expected.

In that moment, he knew, with a clarity that was almost frightening, that he never wanted this to end. He wanted to kiss her for the rest of his life, to keep her close, to feel her warmth and the undeniable spark that existed between them.

The night unfolded in a blur of whispered confessions and stolen touches, the passion between them growing with every passing moment.

They barely made it inside his apartment before they were caught up in each other again, tangled in an embrace that felt both exhilarating and terrifying in its intensity. Every touch, every look, was charged, as if they were rediscovering each other in a new, profound way.

The barriers they’d once built crumbled, leaving only raw emotion in their wake. That night, Jeonghan felt something shift within him, a realization settling deep in his chest as they finally allowed themselves to be honest about the feelings they’d both been hiding.

He remembered the way her fingers trailed along his skin, the warmth of her breath against his neck, the softness of her voice in the darkened room as they shared secrets, hopes, and fears that had once been too frightening to voice. And with each passing hour, as the night gave way to the first hints of dawn, he felt his heart bind itself to hers in a way that felt irrevocable.

By the time they fell asleep, wrapped in each other’s arms, Jeonghan knew that this wasn’t something he could ever let go of.

She was his, and he was hers.

The line had been crossed, and there was no going back.

In the quiet morning light, as he lay beside her, watching her breathe, Jeonghan felt the weight of his feelings settle over him with a certainty that was both comforting and terrifying.

Jeonghan realized, in that stillness, that he was irrevocably in love with her.

Bae Jiyeon.

Luna.

The girl who had been his best friend, his confidante, the one he’d fought so hard to deny, had become everything to him. And as he looked at her, peaceful and unguarded beside him, he knew with absolute certainty that he wanted this— wanted her.

Jeonghan had always been a man of quiet revelations, but none had struck him so powerfully as the realization that he was irrevocably in love with Luna.

It was a truth that hit him like a bolt of lightning— sudden, fierce, and undeniable.

In that instant, he understood that every fleeting moment spent admiring her, every stolen glance and every silent wish, had been building toward this overwhelming desire.

For years, he had found himself captivated by the way Luna existed in her own world, lost in thought or immersed in the simple pleasures of life, and he had admired her fiercely. He had admired her since the day they met, a silent observer of her unguarded moments, and in each one he discovered something new that only deepened his affection. Her presence was like a soft melody that played constantly in the background of his life, familiar yet always capable of stirring his soul.

That realization, though, was only the beginning.

Jeonghan recalled a night that had forever changed the course of his heart— it wasn’t a grand, orchestrated moment in a fancy setting that had brought this realization upon him— it was something far simpler and infinitely more… them.

It was in the quiet hours of the early morning, when the world was hushed and the only sounds were the occasional murmur of a movie and the soft clatter of utensils. Jeonghan remembered admiring Luna in her pajamas, not adorned in the usual splendor of stage makeup and designer outfits, but in her most natural state— bare-faced, her long black hair loosely cascading over her shoulders, and her features soft with sleep. She sat on the edge of the sofa, her eyebrows furrowed slightly and her lips puckered in a habitual pout as she muttered under her breath something about the movie they were watching.

Luna was absorbed in her own world, minding her business and enjoying a late-night snack as they watched a movie together at around three in the morning.

As Luna reached for a dumpling she’d made— a small, humble morsel meant to satisfy a midnight craving— Jeonghan, true to his mischievous nature, swooped in and took the dumpling for himself.

The act was playful, yet in that unexpected moment, as Luna paused mid-bite and glared at him with a look that combined exasperation with an undeniable hint of affection, he felt something surge within him.

Her pouted expression, the slight scrunch of her nose, the way her eyes flickered with both annoyance and longing— it was all etched into his heart like a sacred memory.

Jeonghan watched as she scolded him silently with her gaze, and even though he could not hear her words clearly over the soft hum of the TV, he knew exactly what she was saying. Luna never minded sharing food as long as she was asked; it was the abrupt, uninvited gesture that annoyed her. And yet, even as he delighted in her feigned irritation, he was overwhelmed by the sudden clarity that these simple, everyday moments— these playful battles over a single dumpling— were the very things that made him want to spend his life with her.

In that instant, as he saw the fierce, protective spark in her eyes and felt the soft pressure of her hands as she retorted silently with her gaze, Jeonghan’s heart pounded harder than ever before. He felt both physically and emotionally electrified— his pulse racing, his thoughts spiraling into a realization he could no longer ignore.

Yoon Jeonghan wanted to marry Bae Jiyeon.

Not because they were in a fancy date or a glamorous event, but because in that quiet, unguarded moment, as he watched Luna in her most authentic state, he recognized that her presence was his anchor. Her very existence, with all its flaws and beauty, was something he wanted to cherish forever.

The realization was as sudden as it was profound, a mixture of joy and a hint of self-mockery at his own spontaneity. He chuckled inwardly, marveling at how unexpectedly his heart had leaped from one simple, unadorned moment to the clarity of knowing he loved her.

It was in those vulnerable, ordinary moments— when she was just Luna, not the dazzling idol on stage— that he saw the raw truth of their bond. He knew then, unequivocally, that her soft, pouted expressions, her effortless ways of being both strong and delicate, were everything to him.

That night, as the movie played on in the background, long forgotten, Jeonghan lay with Luna curled up against his chest, her body rising and falling in the rhythm of deep, peaceful sleep. The dim glow of the television cast soft shadows across the room, flickering faintly over her face.

Even in slumber, she was breathtaking.

His arms were wrapped around her, his fingers tracing idle patterns against the fabric of her oversized pajama top, and his heart— still hammering from the realization that had struck him like a tidal wave only hours before— was struggling to calm itself.

He felt warm.

Not just in the physical sense, from the way her body pressed into his, but in the way that reached down into his very soul.

The kind of warmth that settled in his chest and refused to leave.

The kind that whispered of forever.

His thoughts were relentless, swirling around in a fervent, chaotic mess of emotions, excitement, and impatience.

He wanted to marry her.

He wanted to slip a ring onto her finger and promise her forever.

The notion should have been terrifying— the weight of such a commitment, the irreversible nature of it— but it wasn’t.

It was the easiest decision he’d ever made.

He had never been so sure of anything in his entire life. And now that he had acknowledged it, truly let it sink into his bones, he felt almost foolish for not realizing it sooner.

Of course, it had always been Luna.

Carefully, so as not to wake her, Jeonghan shifted slightly, reaching out to grab his phone from the coffee table. His movements were slow, practiced, barely disrupting the cocoon of warmth they had created together.

The screen lit up, the brightness making his eyes squint momentarily as he adjusted to the harsh glow. Without hesitation, he opened his messages, his fingers flying across the screen with a sense of urgency that had his heart racing all over again.

He created a new group chat with the members, ensuring that Luna was not included. A smirk played on his lips as he stared at the name he had given the group, amused at his own wit, but there was no time to dwell on it. His fingers moved swiftly, typing out the message that would set everything in motion.

The words stared back at him, illuminated in the soft glow of his screen, a simple sentence that carried the weight of his entire future.

There was no turning back now, not that he wanted to.

He pressed send, his heart giving an erratic thump as the message disappeared into the ether.

The thought of what was to come filled him with a strange mix of anticipation and serenity. It was only a matter of time now. A matter of time before he found the perfect ring. Before he planned the perfect moment. Before he knelt before Luna with his heart laid bare and asked the only question that had ever truly mattered.

It was only a matter of time before Jeonghan made her his forever.

Jeonghan, who Luna had once taught to talk to the moon, used to whisper to it about her— about the girl who had turned his world on its axis, about the love that had bloomed in his heart like an unstoppable force.

Night after night, the biggest little thing in the sky had been his silent witness, watching as he reached for the stars, for her. And now, as he lay beside her, his future crystallizing in his mind, he realized the stars had always been reaching back.

Because the moon, in all its quiet brilliance, had given him a piece of its own light— Luna.

His Luna.

The one who had become his universe.

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[merakiui]

Holy shit, Mama Leech just dropped and God Damn! I see where the tweels get it. She looks so pretty, such mob wife energy.

I can't help but imagine being a barista the works at a small cafe near the beach. Everyday this elegant woman comes in, ordering the exact same thing every time. Always getting into small talk with you, listening as you talk about the struggles of college and day to day life in your small beach town. She talks about her two boys with such a wide smile on her face, you can't tell if it's pride or malice (maybe a little bit of both).

After a few months of chatting, she begins leading the conversation in a certain direction. Talks about how she had always wanted a daughter, a little girl to dress up and have spa days with. Talks about her two hopeless sons, they're good boys they're just odd. Scaring off every potential girlfriend. It's clear where she's pushing this, hoping that maybe you'll persue one of her little devils angels. She can even help you out if that's what you wish. Pay for your college, buy you a new home, upgrade your car. As long as you give her boys a chance.

Just mama leech, desperately trying to get her boys a girlfriend and herself a daughter.

👀 oooo platonic yan Georgina who is slowly slithering into your life, acting as a motherly figure to you. Shamelessly treating you like her own daughter, gently teasing you when you awkwardly tell her you're single or struggling financially, and she's here to help her dear daughter friend. She always makes sure you're eating well and taking care of yourself. Consider meeting her precious boys. From what she's told you of them, it's clear she has an abundance of fondness for them and they seem nice enough. If she can call them her angels, then surely they're good people. You decide it's the least you can do for her, considering she's helped you so much.

Going on a date with her sons..... they're waiting to pick you up after your shift and you're not sure what you were expecting, but they're tall and so different despite being twins and looking the same. You can see hints of their mother in them both, especially with how quick they are to tease you. >_< and they're both very attractive. You expect to go to a bar or somewhere relatively cheap, so it shocks you when they bring you to the fanciest restaurant on the beach, having reserved a table in advance. You feel terrible because your work uniform is not fit for this environment, but Georgina has already prepared an outfit for you to wear. Jade and Floyd offer to help you into it and you have to decline in a flustered hurry. It's a beautiful, expensive dress with lots of pearls and jewels.

Next time, your Mama Leech will take you for a spa day, all in preparation for your next date with her sons. :) and you can't possibly say no to her because you see how happy it makes her to spoil you and spend time with her "daughter." You suppose you can keep this up until the rest of summer, and after that you'll head back to school and won't have to worry about upsetting her. (As if she's going to let you go; you'll be the bride for her sons someday~)

[holylulusworld]

Roll the dice (5) FIN

Summary: You’re in trouble, and it’s all your fault.

Pairing: Mobster!Steve Rogers x fem!Reader

Warnings: mafia au, nakedness, dub-con, sex against a wall, smut, unprotected sex, mentions of smut/too much sex, kinda fluff, implied forced relationship, Steve tries to be romantic, open ending?

Catch up here:Roll the dice (4)

Roll the dice masterlist

You didn’t make it out of the room for several more hours. Steve’s hunger for you, your body, and the need to ruin you were too strong.

The room reeks of sweat, sex, and musk after hours of coupling, but he still doesn’t have enough. It doesn’t matter; you’re both sore and exhausted.

“You’re so good for me,” he purrs while holding you pinned to the wall next to the door. “Doll, look at you taking my cock so well.”

You tried to escape him, but he wouldn’t let you. Not even to use the bathroom. He followed you, watched you pee only to get naughty in the shower with you again, eating your cunt until his beard was soaked not only from the hot water.

“A sweet woman and a whore for me to devour.”

He thrusts up into you, wildly jerking his hips to push you over the edge for what feels like the hundredth time tonight. Or is it day already? You don’t know anything but the feel of his cock inside of you and the promises he makes while fucking you.

“I always knew you were going to be my good girl. I’ve been waiting for the right moment to make you mine,” he whispers in your ear, stilling his hips. Steve lifts his head to look you in the eyes. “Imagine my surprise when you stole my money.”

“Steve, I—" Your throat is hoarse, and his name is all you get out.

“It’s alright, baby doll,” he says before pressing his chapped lips to yours. “You’re mine now. And what’s mine is yours. I’m going to make sure your granny lives her life to the fullest from now on, too.”

He moves again, his lips silencing your screams as he hammers into your abused cunt.

You’ve never met a man like him before. Dangerous, intoxicating, scary, yet so beautiful. Even with his hair and beard drenched in sweat, he looks better than most of the men you've ever met.

“Scream my name, doll,” he breathes against your lips. His cock won’t let you do anything but follow his orders without hesitation. “Louder. I want them all to listen. Everyone must know you are mine.”

You gush all over him, desperately bucking your hips as he fills you with his warmth once again. Exhausted, you collapse in his arms, resting your head against his shoulder.

“There you go, baby doll,” he coos while patting your head. “I’ll bring you home now. You need to rest well to meet my family and friends tomorrow.”

“You want to keep her?” Bucky laughs. His friend is busy looking at the rings one of the jewelers he called brought to his house. “Damn, you even got a diamond ring?”

“It’s time to settle down. I had my eyes on Y/N before she stole money from me.” Steve looks at another ring, shaking his head. “What do you think, Buck? You were married before.”

“I’d choose the biggest stone.”

“No.” Steve shakes his head. “That’s not Y/N’s style. She likes simple things and cherishes them. I watched her long enough to know her inside and outside.” He chuckles at his bad joke. “Well, I know her insides from more than just watching.”

Bucky retches at his friend’s comment.

“I’d suggest you leave the poor woman alone,” Bucky’s girlfriend (or not girlfriend, according to her) says. “She won’t be happy with you.”

Steve glares at her. He ignores her words and looks at the next ring. A simple golden band with a beautiful diamond. It’s as expensive as the others but will fit your taste.

“Why are you even here? I have better things to do than listen to her rant,” Steve grunts before snatching the ring and storming out of the room.

“I guess he doesn’t listen, just like you…”

“Why did you bring me here?” You are still stunned, as Steve didn’t drive you to your home. He took you to his home to help you bathe and knead the kinks out of your body. He was surprisingly gentle—so different from the man devouring you hours ago.

“I told you I want more than getting my hands on you,” he simply states, matter-of-factly. “Bucky doesn’t believe me when I tell him that I want to settle down. I saw what I wanted and made a move.”

“Made a move? You scared the shit out of me,” you argue. “And then, you cheated on every game.”

“If you make the rules, doll, you cannot break them,” Steve smirks when you give him an angry look. “I bought a house for your granny and hired a nurse to help her with everything. She’ll move closer to us, too. I want her to live close to her beloved granddaughter.”

You gape at Steve. Did he do all this to help your grandmother, or to control every aspect of your life? You never know with him.

“What?” He furrows his brows. “She deserves only the best. After all, she’s the reason I got you in my life now.”

Steve cups your face to kiss you softly. “Steve, this is…” You try, but he swallows every word with his lips. His hands roam your body again, and you melt against his chest, knowing how good he can make you feel.

“You’ll love the ring I got, Y/N,” he murmurs against your lips. “But first things first.” His hands get bolder, groping your ass roughly. “We should ruin every surface at my house…”

[polarisbibliotheque]

Devil May Halloween - Try Walking in My Shoes (Vergil)

Devil May Halloween 2024 - Try Walking in My Shoes (Vergil’s Halloween Special) Pairing: Vergil x Reader Summary: Halloween is always a busy time at the Devil May Cry - and it wouldn't be different this year. The job you will take, though, will lead you down a path - one that might forsake your humanity for the power to protect those you love. If you had to walk in Vergil's shoes... Would you stumble in his footsteps, keep the same appointments he kept? Word Count: 32.5k words, it’s a book, BEWARE. AGAIN. Author’s Notes: HUGE THANKS TO @furyeclipse who ALSO helped me write this one, checked, gave me some ideas, and worked on all Ovid parts! Sing her praises, I wouldn't have done it without her!! It has 67 pages on my file, I hope you like reading novels HAHAHA sorry for taking so long, but as you know, life got in the way. The song from the title and that inspired a lot the whole plot is Walking in my Shoes, by Depeche Mode. Very Vergil, very goth, very nice hahahaha (Oh, should also add, the "King" title and him calling reader "Elizabeth Bennet" aren't really gendered. I just wanted to keep it that way 'cause it really fits the story) I hope you enjoy it and that it was worth the wait!! We have a LOT of V as well, a bunch of obscure references I dare you guys to find it and just me gushing over the King of Hell thing. What can I say, I'd be an insufferable bitch if my partner held such a title xD Thank you guys so much for waiting and I hope you enjoy it!! Happy belated, out of place Halloween!!

Before he met you, Vergil had only waltzed in his dreams.

A long time ago, in what seemed to be another lifetime, he learned to properly dance with his father; his mother being his first ever dance partner. But he was a child, not tall enough to properly guide her, not graceful enough to glide through the floor as if they were floating. He would have fun with her, watch her beautiful smile as she praised him for doing it well, but then he would watch as his father took over and they soared around the room in a dream where they only existed to each other.

It was an image Vergil kept close to his heart – and one of the very few things that made him survive Hell; the memories that kept him going in his foolish human heart. It was but a dream one day he would have the opportunity to live such a beautiful moment himself, but dreams are the very things that keep hope alive and made him fight for his crumbling life.

You, like him, had always danced alone. When no one was watching, listening to the songs that attuned to your heart, you would allow your body to move along with it, with a satisfied smile on your lips – something Vergil couldn’t help but to mirror every time he saw you like that.

His silvery eyes moved up from the pages of the book he was reading, the rest of his body remaining still – quite the opposite to you. With time, you learned to feel at ease around him, and trust Vergil enough to allow your personality to shine through; and that was something he would always be grateful.

Listening to a piano playlist you usually had going on the background while either of you were reading, you appeared around to refill your tea mug in order to keep going with your day. But nothing too eventful was happening: no hunt, no blood, no demons, no despair. You both had your day off to prepare for your next job – and that was something you had already done. Now, it was the calm before the storm… And your calm moved beneath your feet.

You started moving around slightly, as if you had just entered the sea and you were getting to know the waves and how they moved on that particular day. Vergil let his head lean to one side ever so slightly, delighted in watching you let yourself get taken by the music. He appreciated the silence and the loneliness, but he did appreciate watching you being you.

With a few graceful moves, you allowed your feet to take some bigger steps, holding your mug with such balance there was no way you would spill the tea you had just refilled. Vergil didn’t notice a slight smile gracing the corner of his lips; that was no ordinary ability and, indeed, it was beautiful to watch.

Leaving the book aside on the couch, he finally got up and quietly walked towards you – as you barely noticed the resolve in your lover’s actions. You were, after all, immersed in the music and seizing that little moment of quiet to indulge in something that brought you peace, having at least some harmony before the job you were hired to do on that Halloween night.

After all, last Halloween almost got you married to a demonic lord. You weren’t too keen on discovering what this year had in store for you.

With those worries away from your mind, though, you kept holding your mug and dancing without breaking balance, ever so gracefully moving around without spilling a single drop of your beverage. In a slow spin, though, you finally opened your eyes as you felt a warm hand covering yours on the mug and another resting on your waist – making you meet those, now very caring, silvery eyes you knew so well.

“Your hands are cold.” Vergil murmured barely above the sound of the music he immediately started guiding you to.

“The air is kinda chilly tonight.” You couldn’t refrain a smile to spread over your lips, as your steps moved around a little shyly and contained through the room.

“Let’s remedy that, then.” As you approached the table, Vergil made a quick stop to take the mug from your hand and leave it on the desk. Having only his warm hand in yours, he then had his other hand on your back, pulling you as close as he could to his body – his posture ever so regal, ever so perfect.

With a peaceful smile on your lips, you closed your eyes and leaned your head slightly back, which made Vergil know you were completely his to guide. That always made a warm sense of pride spread over his chest; it was no small feat having such a proud and fiery spirit like yours to surrender completely to someone else’s control, but there you were – and just for him. Smiling back, Vergil took large, confident steps to waltz you through the room as if you were in a ballroom in Vienna, dancing the forbidden waltz for the first time.

It always felt like a dream. In his arms, you felt like you were flying – your feet barely touching the ground, spinning ever so gracefully as if you both were in a music box. You once heard love is like spinning around with all your might, but if you don’t have anything to anchor yourself down, everything gets out of control – with Vergil, though, you were always certain you would soar and get caught in a whirl, but his steady, anchoring presence would always be there to ground you.

You seldom let yourself be guided; it was, indeed, something just for him. With a will that matched yours, you weren’t afraid to trust Vergil’s judgement or actions. He always acted with confidence and that gave you the safety you needed to close your eyes and have faith in him. Dancing wasn’t that different from fighting, so if you could trust him with one of those, you could trust with the other.

In that sea of music, you both moved with the waves of melodies and graceful steps. Waltzing with you would always be not only a delight, but a dream come true.

For the first time in her life, though, Lady didn’t know what to say. As soon as she came in the shop, she found the both of you dancing like a couple out of a fairytale – like ghosts of a time long gone, indulging in a brief moment of remembering what came to pass when you lived. If it was Dante, she would immediately say something smart, teasing the hell out of her best friend. But it was Vergil – Vergil, the man she hated for such a long time; the one who got into that mess with Arkham, the bastard she once had to call her father; the one who called her foolish and always thought he was above her because of that filthy demonic heritage of his; the one who would kill his own brother without batting an eye for more power; the one who committed atrocities after being tortured for years and not being able to make his heart stop bleeding; the one who would kill thousands without remorse because ‘they’re not strong enough’.

That monster that lived in Lady’s mind, that idea of a ruthless and heartless King of Hell who would bathe in the blood of his enemies and live by the law of the survival of the strongest… Now looking like nothing more than a man; one who had grace and calm in his heart – who was abused, tortured and traumatized, who still found will to keep going and now just danced with the one he loved�� One who looked so human.

The smart, quip-y comment she would have immediately thrown at Dante got caught on her tongue, choked down her throat. She still didn’t know how to deal with Vergil, if she could forgive him after all he had done, or even if she could redeem him. But what could she say when he looked so… Ordinary? She wasn’t perfect herself. Could she really blame him and call him a monster after all he had lived and all he was forced to survive? Could she call that man waltzing in that room a vicious demon underserving of redemption?

Lady didn’t know. And she didn’t even know how to say “hi” at that very moment.

“Well, look at you, all tongue-tied. That’s a first… Oh.” Of course, Trish had to tease her hunting partner that night. As soon as she entered the Devil May Cry, the first thing she saw was Lady looking like she had swallowed a frog, and she couldn’t miss the opportunity to point that out. Upon seeing what was going on, though, the woman understood immediately.

“If you’re so self-assured, then, go on. Say hello yourself.” Lady whispered back to the devilish woman, pointing back at both of you dancing. They were so quiet, neither you nor Vergil noticed their presence. That, or you were both so drenched into your own little dream, nothing could snap you out of that so easily.

Trish crossed her arms, having a delighted smile on her lips. To some extent, she understood Vergil – a lot better than Lady, probably. She knew what was like to be born with a curse and to be caught up in earthly, and humanly, delights. It was a completely different reality and she herself knew what was like having ordinary human experiences for the first time. Even something so mundane as going out for an ice cream could be completely life changing for someone like her – after all, that was how Dante turned her a long time ago; how he made her realize it was not the blood she was born with that forged a path she was forced to follow: she could make her own choices and she could choose to be human. She just had to feel it in her heart.

For a long time, Vergil chose to give up that side of him – out of being utterly terrified of being hurt and vulnerable again. Ironically, that led him to the path that ultimately got him into that position in the hands of Mundus – and Trish knew very well how cruel her creator could be. It was only when Vergil tried to get rid of his humanity that he realized how stupid he had been; and how he could wear his human heart as a strength instead of a weakness… Something Dante figured out a long time ago.

Indeed, dancing was one of the human experiences Trish enjoyed the most. It was so carefree, so ethereal at times… But grounding still. It made her heart soar, her body move like waves, and her soul feel completely alive. It was certainly such a humanly delight – she would always be grateful for Dante to have brought her soul to the light so she could have small, great experiences like that of just dancing.

“Tongue-tied yourself too, huh?” Now Lady crossed her arms, side-eying the blonde demon by her side. Trish raised one eyebrow, staring back at her human counterpart.

Before they could start arguing, though, you finally noticed them in the room and slowly brought Vergil’s steps to a halt. As he realized you were slowing down and not allowing yourself to be so freely guided, he gradually stopped alongside you and paid attention to where you were looking – the door.

“Hey, ladies. You arrived just in time.” You smiled back to them, as Vergil let go of you and stood by your side properly, with the formal demeanor he always wore. “Everyone ready for tonight?”

“Hunting demons in an old castle during Halloween doesn’t happen very often, does it?” Trish had a delighted smile on her rosy lips, crowned with a smart look in her eyes.

“And it’s not like we don’t have a huge job every Halloween anyway.” Lady shrugged, adjusting the cannon strapped to her back. “You guys ready?”

“Yes.” With that simple word, Vergil moved back to the couch to get his long coat and yours, for it was a chilly night. Lady just stared at him, not knowing what to do – if it was Dante, he would have already started a conversation about the last couple Halloween jobs, but Vergil… Well, he was a man of few words to say the least.

“We got everything ready as soon as Dante left with Nico, Nero and Kyrie for his gig at the old town. We’ve been waiting for you guys.” You smiled back, knowing it was your job to talk to people when your lover was, well, not so well versed at that.

“If you don’t mind me asking, then, how are you going? I’m taking my bike, Lady’s taking hers…” Trish left the question lingering in the air while Vergil approached with your coat on his arms, having already put his on.

“If you need a ride, there’s more than enough space on my bike for you. But you…” Lady pointed at Vergil, making him only stare back at her. She still didn’t know how to tell if he was fine with the conversation or angry at her. Those silver eyes, in Lady’s opinion, were cold and completely voided of feelings. Unnerving, to put it mildly. “You gotta do your demonic void travelling thing.”

“Not to worry about that. I stole Dante’s Cavaliere tonight.” You had a proud smile on your lips, making the two ladies raise only one eyebrow in disbelief. “He’s on the van, we needed a ride… So Cavaliere it is.”

Lady and Trish just stared at each other as you left the shop with the blue devil. Vergil riding a motorcycle…? That would be a first.

*

You didn’t get too many details on the castle job, if you were going to be really honest. Lady just appeared with a lead, saying the police was too scared to deal with the calls they received regarding some incidents in the area and, after reviewing the information, they called her because “it might just be her area of expertise”.

Of course, if it was, they were going to pay her handsomely for saving their asses from a certainly deadly job around Halloween. If it wasn’t, she would clear the area for them, and they would compensate her at least a bit for her troubles.

Since Dante already had a job lined up with the cowboy incident, you and Vergil were more than free to work with her and at least clear some of Dante’s debt with the woman.

Nothing Lady could do about that, really. She didn’t exactly enjoy working with Vergil, but she liked your company. Since you and Trish were free, it wasn’t going to be a chore – she could at least stay two people away from the blue devil.

“You better keep him on a leash.” Lady pointed at you, completely ignoring Vergil leaning by Dante’s desk, bare arms crossed, coldly staring at her with his sharp silver eyes. “If he goes around wrecking everything, I won’t get paid.”

“Don’t worry, I got some good ones in my bag of tricks.” You winked back at the woman, ignoring the look that your lover now sent in your direction. It would be easier if you changed the subject – you could deal with him later. “What’s it about? You said the police received some weird calls, but why would they contact you over that?”

“To be fair, I think they’re scared.” Lady sighed, now resting her hands on her waist. You found a comfortable place to sit on Dante’s desk while the man himself seemed to be sleeping on his big chair, classic magazine-on-face and everything. “Here in Redgrave, some policemen already have my number, you know, for emergencies. One of the guys recently moved to the countryside, to escape the troubles of the city, to Holmwood Hills.”

“Huh. How’s that workin’ out for ‘im…?” Dante’s voice seemed a little sleep drunk, but you couldn’t stop yourself from wheezing a little bit. You had to love that goofy powered-by-pizza red devil sitting beside you – of course he was paying attention to the conversation, especially when it was a job brought in by Lady. “Poor guy has the bad luck of the century.”

“You’re one to talk…” Vergil rolled his eyes, still having his arms crossed and leaning on the opposite side to you on the table. “We’re the last people on this Earth who can say something about luck, brother.”

“Well, I’ll have to agree with ya on that one.” And the most impressive part was Dante being a part of the conversation still with the magazine on his face.

“Continue, Lady. Ignore him.” Vergil’s words were harsh, but very polite with her. It always felt strange to Lady whenever he talked to her: in all that time since Dante and Vergil had come back from Hell after cutting down the Qliphoth, he was always polite with her and never treated Lady with nothing but respect.

But she couldn’t really forget that his crazy, power-hungry demon part, Urizen, locked her inside a demonic shell, could she? She would argue it was just like Mundus did to him years before, but at least she wasn’t awake during her time as a puppet. Which always made her go stubbornly silent and angry; after all, did Vergil just spare her and Trish from the horrors…? Was that his way of being kind, even if it was the actions of his pure demonic side…?

She never wanted to think too much about that, to be honest. She didn’t want to give Vergil more than the few she thought he deserved.

“Well… So, this guy, Johnny, called me a few days ago saying there’s the ruins to this medieval castle around Holmwood Hills.” She took a deep breath, shaking her head. Not thinking was always a good way to avoid dealing with those feelings. It wasn’t the time to do so, after all. “The castle is abandoned, ‘cause apparently there’s a dispute between Holmwood Hills and Willmington for it and, without settling it, no one takes care of the building.”

“Classic petty disputes wrecking historic patrimony. What a nice story.” You smiled with no humor whatsoever in your words. You would think that by now, humans would have learned the value of History and preserving it, but there you were, always proven wrong on that regard. Vergil stared at you with a bit of understanding in his unrelenting eyes – it was something that annoyed him as well. “Is the castle haunted, at least? There’s always a good probability of something fun happening in haunted castles.”

“To make you happy, you little weirdo, there are rumors of hauntings, yes. As all castles do, I think.” Lady giggled a little, watching you beam a satisfied smile upon hearing her words. “And that’s why I got the call. It’s only some ghosts here and there, really, weird noises and people swearing for their own lives that they saw an evanescing figure in the dark, gliding around with big dresses, crying their woes into the night.” She put on a spooky voice, making you giggle in return. Those sort of spooky stories always made you happy and Vergil couldn’t help but to allow a slight smile to appear on his lips. He didn’t have the ability to tell stories like that – his would always turn too dark and serious for everyone’s sake – but he could appreciate when someone with that skill made you smile so much from it. “But there’s the thing. Johnny wouldn’t have called me because of a few spooky stories from easily scared countryside folk. He said that for a few months already, there have been some strange things happening – mostly dead animals from the woods or some of the farmers, just like in Dante’s case. Then, some people started talking about shadowy figures in the castle and such, which wouldn’t have been a problem, if Johnny hadn’t seen them himself at least twice. He said it looked like they were wearing robes, maybe dark dresses, but covering their heads; and walking in an organized fashion from one balcony of the castle to another until disappearing through one of the doors. One day, people heard what they said was a thunder, but there was no storm in the skies. The local police got some calls saying a few people heard screams coming from the castle and, when a couple of policemen went to investigate, they saw a cold blue light emanating from inside. A light that couldn’t exist by any natural means. One of the officers was Johnny, and he immediately suggested calling me.”

“Demonic blue fire…?” You suggested, and Lady immediately agreed with her head.

“I though about the same thing. I mean, what kind of other sources of unnatural blue light can you think of?” As she asked, you immediately looked at your lover on the other side of the table, having her do the same. “Exactly. And that’s pretty demonic in my book.”

“That has a reason to be this way.” Vergil’s voice immediately cut the air like sharp ice. Lady almost regretted her comment – almost. “And it only happens in my demonic form.”

“Meaning, we might have another blue devil roaming the Earth in Holmwood Hills.” You crossed your arms, furrowing your eyebrows as you thought. “I don’t like it.”

“It can also be some generic demonic fire too.” Dante decided to lend his two cents in the conversation, now finally taking the magazine off his face, throwing it between you and Vergil. “I’ve been to plenty of places where that was the only source of light. But it was always a sign of demonic activity.”

“It certainly isn’t a common thing around here.” And Vergil had to agree with his brother. Hunting and demons were actually one of the very few things that the twins easily agreed upon and rarely had arguments over. It was actually very interesting to watch them talk about their knowledge on such things and how they worked well together when there wasn’t a fight involved. “It was a good reason to call, but it might be nothing as well. The animal deaths, that is something that usually happens with low-tier demons – but if they were being summoned constantly, and staying, it would certainly evolve to children, and eventually adults.”

Lady had to furrow her brows upon hearing that. Vergil spoke as if it was nothing, as if he was stating the hunting habits of an animal species with scientific objectivity and neutrality. As if it was so… Normal. Maybe that was why he had turned out the way he did – at least that was the only answer she had in her mind for his coldness.

“Well, now I’m happy Johnny didn’t report back with kids being killed.” She had her grumpy tone, which made Vergil raise one eyebrow – wondering what the hell did he say to make her spiteful like that. You almost wanted to laugh, even if the subject was dark: with time, you came to understand and get used to his bluntness and apparent lack of empathy, but most people didn’t know how to deal with that. You couldn’t blame them.

“Does he have an idea of what it could be?” You immediately cut in before anything else could happen. You still had a long way to help Vergil be more of a human being in society, if you were being honest with yourself. “I mean, the dark figures roaming the castle, random appearances, deaths… Seems too organized for demons.”

“Low-tier demons.” Vergil immediately corrected you. “Higher-tier ones are a lot more organized than whatever human research and scriptures would lead you to think. There’s a hierarchy in Hell, and some demons are very much attached to their ranks and titles.”

“On that, I agree.” Dante chimed in once again, now even more invested in the story. “Demons are power freaks, they always want to show-off how stronger and better they are. That hierarchy Verge’s talkin’ ‘bout is no joke.”

“And if it is a higher-tier demon involved, they are not going to just summon and terrorize people aimlessly. They will certainly have a bigger goal.”

“Summon and kill, summon and kill. Only mad humans do that kind of shit.” Dante sighed, and you had to giggle. You would always remember his argument with Agnus – specially how Nico would act it to all of you like a Shakesperean play in which Dante was the hero.

To be fair, you did believe her a 100% when she said that was exactly how he did on that day. Both Dante and Vergil were theater kids – different personalities, yes, but with a soft spot for drama.

“Guess we all agree there’s a good reason for Johnny calling me, then.” Lady smiled with a bit of triumph in her voice. “I already called Trish and wanted to see if you guys wanted to join in. After all, our latest Halloweens have been all but normal.”

“Define ‘normal’. That word doesn’t exist in our vocabulary, Lady.” You shook your head with a smile on your face, very much remembering how you almost got married to a demonic lord in the previous year.

“Well, if I hadn’t already somethin’ lined up, I’d love to go with ya. But Morrison already got me on an actual payin’ job this time.” Dante’s smile was so peaceful you thought Lady would shoot it out of his face. The fire in her eyes denounced her anger at his comment.

“If you weren’t such a slacker with a huge debt with me, you’d actually get paid with my jobs!” She leaned on the desk, having one of her fingers pointed at Dante. You sighed: that argument could go on for ages.

“If you weren’t such a loan shark, I’d already be debt-free!” Dante leaned in closer, arms crossed over the desk.

“You owe money to the entire fuckin’ city, Dante!” Exasperated. That was the word to define Lady whenever she was arguing with the red devil.

As you giggled silently, your eyes crossed Vergil’s silvery ones – also finding the argument amusing; after all, he wasn’t the only one to get vexed by his brother’s antics. When your gazes met, though, he didn’t even have to gesture for you to meet at the couch and spend some time together before those two finally decided to stop arguing. You could already understand Vergil without needing his much beloved words.

And that’s what got you all walking down the stony paths of the abandoned, overgrown entrance garden. The entrance one wasn’t as big as the garden behind it, and you could easily see the main hall through the broken wooden door. It was very obvious to you and Lady why no human would venture inside to check the rumors, even if it escaped Trish and Vergil a little bit.

Having found yourselves on the main hall – a wide room where you could see the stories above, very similar to the old Fortuna Castle but lacking the furniture and the enormous Sanctus painting – you had too many doors to check that night.

Being with Vergil and Trish, then, turned out to be a blessing: with their demonic powers, speed wasn’t a problem. Deciding to split up to check the doors on the first floor before moving to the floors above, Trish went to the first on the left, Vergil took the first on the right and you and Lady decided to stay together, taking the second one to the left.

“Hey, Johnny. Just letting you know, me and my crew are here already.” She talked over her red cellphone, making you smile slightly. The Devil May Cry crew being Lady’s crew for one night amused you for no special reason. “If you guys hear anything weird, just stay away. Don’t let any curious people try to get close and snoop in, it might kill them.” As always, as blunt as one of her rockets. She and Vergil had at least one thing in common. “Yeah, don’t wanna get any casualties tonight. I’ll call ya when it’s over, so far we haven’t seen anything weird. Probably just a bunch of kids tryna scare everyone around. I’ll keep you posted; you better have my money ready.”

Ruthless. Just like, well, Vergil. She would hate to hear that, you were sure of it.

As Lady put her cellphone back into her pocket, you saw that as a perfect opportunity to talk. After all, it was just the two of you, something you didn’t get regularly – even when it was “girl’s night out”, it was every Devil May Cry girl and you, so you didn’t really have many opportunities for private talks like in that moment.

Side-eyeing her, you peacefully smiled before bringing up the subject.

“You know, I wished I had taken a picture of you when you saw Vergil riding Cavaliere as we arrived. It was priceless.”

“Oh, c’mon!” Lady rolled her eyes, already getting triggered by your comment. You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing. “I can’t imagine him doing anything normal! It’s not my fault him acting more human than demon feels so… Strange.”

And there she was, looking like someone had stuck a pie inside her cannon and she just shot it at some demon for absolutely no reason. A mix of disgust and complete confusion.

A work of art, really.

“He doesn’t bite, you know.” You had to side-eye her again. It had been a long time since a conversation had amused you so much.

“Well, he does look like he bites. And tears off skin, even.” She glared back at you – you expected a judging look on her different colored eyes, but all you could find was genuine confusion and frustration. “I don’t even know how you can be his partner! That guy is a menace!”

“Well, that he really is, I’m not gonna lie. Who will someday say there’s no reason by the things done by the heart; and who will say there’s reason at all**?” You sighed, considering the words she just said to you. “And he does bite to kill. I’d never seen myself loving someone like him, but it looks like fate loves grabbing me by my ankles and hanging me upside down regarding some things, especially related to the heart.” With your answer, Lady had to giggle back, even if she didn’t know what you had referenced before – her best assumption, an obscure poem you and Vergil had close to your hearts. “But Vergil… Well, he’s not as bad as he looks.”

Lady immediately stopped on her tracks to throw at you the biggest judging stare you had ever received – and that was saying something, considering you were Vergil’s lover.

“Don’t get me wrong, Lady. I’m not saying he’s an angel, he isn’t. He is far from it. He’s done things that are truly unforgivable. And he has a lot to work on.” You answered as fast as you could – not explaining yourself, but laying down the facts. “I won’t hide the things he did nor pretend they did not happen – they did, and that’s all on Vergil. He’ll have to carry the weight of his choices and face the consequences of his actions.”

You and Lady resumed walking, now that she looked quite impressed by hearing you say those words. You had never talked about those things and she never really understood how you could stay with someone like Vergil out of all people in the world. It was refreshing to see you didn’t excuse his behavior nor created a parallel reality in your head where he had never done nothing wrong.

“I am not… Him, though.” You continued speaking, now growing more pensive and careful with your words. Lady had to sigh at how, sometimes, you were so similar to him. “If he was completely human, I would probably call him a monster and want to have nothing to do with him. But… He isn’t. Just like Dante. They are not like you and me, Lady, and even if we want to judge them solely by our human standards, we cannot comprehend them completely. We can just try.” You sighed, hoping she understood where your words were coming from – and, judging by her silence, she was at least trying. “We have no idea how it’s like to be children of the legendary demon who killed Mundus and locked demons away from the human world, the hatred that it brings to the lowest tier of creatures out there. They were doomed from the day they were born, quite the opposite from us, actually. And purely because of a whim of fate, Dante had the opportunity to live with humans and get used to our means of survival and morals, but Vergil didn’t have that. From the day their house burned to ashes, Vergil was stabbed to death by a bunch of demons and had his own demonic side being the only thing to save himself, living a life of survival and blood, by the code of demons, not humans. He was just a child, Lady.”

The woman immediately furrowed her brows, being confronted by something she never really thought about – not even when it came to one of her best friends, Dante. The way that fateful day shaped both of the twins; it explained a lot, to say the least. On both of their actions, be it Dante’s goofy antics and deadly efficiency, be it Vergil’s cold demeanor and mortal accuracy.

But that last statement of yours resonated to the back of her memories in her head, something Lady had never expected to happen. She too was a child when Arkham decided to sacrifice her mother for his selfish reasons – and that broke her considerably. It was something Lady still carried with herself and she was too young to be able to process it better than she actually did.

If she was in Dante’s or Vergil’s places, would she turn out better than them? She didn’t rest until she put a bullet in her father’s forehead, so how could she judge herself morally better than Dante… Or Vergil? If someone had cut her to pieces when she was just a scared child, who didn’t know how to defend herself, who thought she was left for dead by everyone she loved… Could she really have turned out better than the man she harbored so much hate towards?

Lady didn’t want to admit, but your words had a decent impact on her view of things.

“A kid who learned that if he didn’t murder everything in sight, he would perish. If he didn’t have all the power in the world, he would turn to dust. If he wasn’t top tier when it came to the hellish hierarchy, he would be made a main course on a feast of all the enemies his father did when he rebelled against his own kin.” You continued, sighing right after. It was something that constantly went through your mind and you didn’t have many opportunities to talk to other people about. “I can’t forgive him by human standards, but Vergil never lived by human standards. While Dante lived his humanity, Vergil lived his demonic heritage, and I do believe he doesn’t have the same moral views and standards as we do. It’s… It’s kinda as if he’s actually learning how to live in society right now, if I’m being honest.” With those words, you had to giggle a little bit, making her look at you a little confused. “It’s funny, sometimes. Vergil is this powerhouse of a ruthless half-demon who can even technically be called King of Hell, but he will be so clueless when in normal human situations. Try to have him be barely functional as a human, he’ll look more confused than us trying to pull off a forty-hit deadly combo with Yamato. He will literally go full Mr. Darcy to go to the Opera on a date because he thinks that’s how you behave in those situations, the poor man.”

“Oh, no, he didn’t…!”

“Yes, he did.” You closed your eyes in pain, confirming with your head, as Lady just let out a good laugh.

When you put it that way, she could see Vergil as something other than a menace to mankind – and whatever type of living kind.

“When you see him as human, you realize a lot of his deadly demeanor falls off. There’s just this clueless man who was never raised in a normal setting trying to adjust to society by reading books and poetry.” You smiled in return, picturing him tiredly preparing tea in the morning, looking absolutely beaten by sleep and trying to figure out why the stove wasn’t working. “A lot less scary. Quite stupid sometimes… On the best way, though.”

When Lady looked back at you, she could see it: the care you always harbored in your eyes whenever you talked about the things you loved in Vergil. And, for the very first time in her life, she understood.

“But he does bite hard. That man has an issue knowing how strong he is and adjusting to normal life.”

“Oh, no, I could’ve lived without that…!”

With both of your laughs echoing through the long stony corridor of the castle, you and Lady barely noticed the faint sound of another set of footsteps besides yours.

**Eduardo e Monica, by Legião Urbana

*

Vergil was very aware he was being followed. In a matter of fact, it was the first thing he noticed when he found himself alone, Yamato in hand, in that long, lone corridor of that forgotten castle.

It wasn’t the sound, it was the feeling.

After surviving in Hell for so long – and honing his abilities to the peak of perfection at that moment in time – Vergil learned to discern his surroundings without having to rely in his own vision to do so. His sight could easily deceive him, but not his soul.

It was handy to defeat many sorts of enemies, from simple ones to the most complicated. When there were enemies who could make copies of themselves, for example, Vergil could easily detect who was the real one instead of the mirror – his soul would always find them.

When he was younger, it required a lot more concentration and quieting his mind. He would resort to closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, relying on his very spirit to be his eyes and find other presences wherever he was. Now that he was older, and he had worked what seemed to be infinite hours on that skill, Vergil could easily feel other presences without having to rely on quick meditations to do so.

As soon as the crew separated, he noticed another set of energies in the shadows. Two quiet ones – following, observing. At first, he thought it could be you and Lady trying to pull one of your human Halloween pranks to entertain yourselves and have a bit of a laugh – and he had to be honest, if it came from you, he would have a chuckle as well.

But Vergil knew your energy from miles away, with closed eyes, and even in his sleep. You felt like you, and it was always like an approaching safe harbor, a force of nature who would only welcome and protect him. Everything and everyone else paled in comparison – except for his twin brother, whom, to Vergil, was chaos incarnate.

Very distinguishable energies he could quickly and easily pick up anywhere – and so he knew it wasn’t you.

It was a weak, lurking energy; having to hide away from him or else it feared it would be made into pieces. You had nothing of that in you – nothing of that pitiful, despicable feeble aura that observed him in the shadows. That knew that, if it showed itself to him, it would be made into pieces in just a few seconds.

Vergil had to let a half-smile cover his lips upon that thought: you would never run away from him, especially in a fight. You would lurk like a hunter, and Vergil would feel himself being stalked like a prey; you would pounce from the shadows and try to carve his heart out of his chest – and you would have one hell of a fight. You would always be a challenge for him, and Vergil would always cherish how much effort you put into trying to defeat him. Even while loving the most despicable parts of him, you wouldn’t hold back in a duel – and Vergil would forever adore you for that.

As he walked through the stony corridor crowned in large, broken windows, those cowardly energies never tried to do anything but stalk him. Vergil sighted two open rooms – now completely destroyed, making it impossible to know what it was before being abandoned – and found nothing.

Making his way back to the main hall, he would’ve never thought how that place – even while being “secretly” followed – would be peaceful enough to give him time to think.

Being alone again always made Vergil realize how much he appreciated everyone’s company at the Devil May Cry – but specially Dante, Nero and you. It strangely felt like a family again, a feeling he had thought it was lost inside his heart, inside the child he had to kill so many years ago in order to survive like a demon. He did know how to live in war, but he did not know how to live with love and peace. It was foreign, but a sort of strangeness he was so eager to welcome back in his life – even if he wouldn’t admit out loud.

Having lived as V was a turning point in Vergil’s existence. Honestly, separating his human half from his demonic half was the only way he could have survived back when he was literally falling apart, but it was also what he needed to learn to live.

He had never really learned that. It had been a long time since he felt fear and uselessness, of having to rely on others stronger than him to be protected and overcome his challenges, of having to ask for help. Vergil thought he would die before asking for help, but it was the first thing V did. Because Vergil only knew survival, but he had to be entirely human to learn to live – and he never really got a chance to do that before V.

He had a glimpse with Nero’s mother, that he had to be honest with himself. A little spark of what it was to be human, to love, to let himself be taken by his emotions… But it seemed like shattering a dream when he woke up the next day and was forced to notice she was still a human and he was a devil – and he couldn’t give her what she needed.

Maybe if he knew about Nero, he wouldn’t have left… Maybe his life would’ve been different, knowing he had others to protect. But he didn’t know, and the best, logical action was to leave and never look back – never look at the moment he faltered and allowed his humanity to get the best of him, to try to experience the love he so desperately craved for but never wanted to admit.

It was no use to mourn over the past, though. What it was done, was done – and Vergil had only to deal with the consequences of his actions; the aftermath of his blindness to his heart, his human soul. The result of lying to himself for so many years, to pushing himself to the brink to suppress something that was screaming and crying inside of him.

In the end, V and Urizen were a good thing – despite all the death it entailed, of course. It was another weight he would have to carry on his shoulders, but Vergil already had many – and some that accounted for his sleepless nights. But he got to see himself in different lights, and that made him realize he couldn’t keep going the way he was before. That his decaying body was exclusively his fault, and that muffling his tears made him become a monster even worse than the ones that attacked him that fateful night.

You weren’t one to forgive all his mistakes, and constantly called him out on it – just like his brother and his son; Interestingly enough, Vergil was thankful for that. If you saw him as a god, he wouldn’t be able to stand you – but you saw him as human. In your eyes, Vergil was just a flawed man as anyone else, who had actions to praise and to condemn, who made mistakes and great deeds. And, in the end, that was exactly what he needed.

Vergil had that on you and Dante, with different kinds of understanding and love. Dante knew where he was coming from, having to battle constantly with their demonic heritage and nature. He had lived and survived the horrors Vergil had seen, as well as fought the worst and most despicable creatures in Hell by his side. He challenged Vergil and constantly proved the human heart was stronger and more powerful than the demonic nature, but always sat down and had a drink with him in the end, talking about their random interests after a good fight. It was a type of bond Vergil longed to have – and he could imagine how much Dante longed for it too. How much, in his lust for power, he hurt not only himself, but his brother – and how that bond was exactly what each of them had needed all along.

You, however, offered something else. You offered Vergil a type of love that could only come from a human heart: seeing violence and blood, you opened your arms to a deadly creature undeserving of kindness, and proved once again that human love could conquer worlds and destroy empires. Vergil thought his mother was the only creature in all dimensions who could adore someone knee deep in demon blood and destruction like his father – but he hadn’t met you. And that understanding, kindness and protection you offered him wasn’t enveloped in worshipping – as it usually was when it came to him and his brother. You didn’t worship, you simply loved; and that implied recognizing the good and the bad, looking at his best qualities and worse flaws, and embracing all of them without glossing over the things he had done. Vergil could lie in your arms and sleep soundly knowing nothing bad would happen to him while you were around, but he also knew he could spar with you and come out of the fight with a couple of injuries of his own and even having to stop a few bleedings on his body.

“Hmmm…” He instinctively murmured to himself, too low to be heard by the lurking energies following him around the castle. Having spent too long on his own, talking to himself out loud, even if in a low voice, was a habit he never really managed to abandon. “A perfect match for a King.”

Vergil had to chuckle at his own thought – which was more of an instinct than anything else. You were fit for royalty indeed, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

His thoughts would have to come to a halt, given that he was back to where he began his search on that part of the castle. Vergil hadn’t seen anything out of the ordinary for an abandoned place – except for those lingering presences, constantly watching him. Of course, he could cut them in half with a flick of his wrist, but that certainly wouldn’t help the hunt at hand.

After all, his eyes couldn’t see anything wrong, but his heart could feel it. There was something going on in that place, and if he cut short the lives of the only things making it obvious, it would just slow your work down.

Vergil wasn’t as impulsive and irresponsible as his twin brother – or that was what he liked to believe, at least.

“Speaking about the blue devil, look who’s back.” He heard Lady’s voice echoing at the main hall, now that he had returned to his starting point – finding the human hunter and you having a chat, casually waiting as if this wasn’t another job.

“Did you find something, love?”

“Nothing worth of noting.” Vergil’s answer was as quiet as your question. Nevertheless, he had an adamant grip on Yamato, while approaching the two of you. “Visually, at least.”

“Visually? What do you mean by that?” Lady had her brows furrowed, internally questioning why Vergil always had to speak as if it was a freaking charade. She would find the answer to her questions herself, remembering the talk you both had – he was a severely maladjusted man who learned to go about the world with a bunch of old books filled with dust and crazy demons.

“I had a few… Creatures following me in the shadows.” His answer was a little slow, his silvery eyes sending a knowing look over his shoulders – meaning those things were still keeping him under surveillance. “Perhaps human, but something felt… Different.”

“Hmmm… We also had some rogue footsteps following us around too.” You glanced at Lady and she nodded in agreement. You both had checked the aisle and rooms you had to, but you saw nothing out of the ordinary. You heard it, though. “Maybe the humans who are summoning the lesser demons?”

“Might be. They would be stained with residual energy.” Vergil considered your words, still taking a look around. “Trish hasn’t returned yet?”

“She hasn’t. And she usually is the fastest out of us three.” Lady looked over at you, since you three liked to go hunting together when you had the opportunity. When it was the three of you, Trish was the one with the demonic power – meaning a lot more raw strength and speed than you and Lady, the human ones. “It’s kinda weird she’s taking so long.”

“Yeah. I’ll agree with you on that…” You sighed, taking a look around. Since you both had returned to the main hall, the footsteps had stopped – perhaps Vergil could sense something you couldn’t. “Maybe we should check on her. I’ve a bad feeling about this.”

It didn’t take long for your bad feeling to become a reality: soon after you spoke those words, one of the aisles doors slammed open and Trish flew through it – the force of her yellow lightning propelling her backwards, while she landed gracefully on the main hall and her enemies burned back in place.

“It’s a trap.” She looked over to you, Lady and Vergil, her hands already glowing with lightning to prepare another attack. “I was coming back, they took me for distracted and tried to catch me.”

“I like that you said they tried.” You had a tinge of fun in your voice, making a devilish smile appear on her lips.

“It takes a lot more to bring this down, dear.” Trish winked back at you and, as soon as some lesser demons appeared through the door she had just slammed open, the woman unleashed another destructive blast, making them fly in all directions.

“What are they expecting, sending pitiful creatures like that to fight us…?” Vergil growled in what appeared to be a rumbling more to himself. You had to stop yourself from laughing as soon as Lady looked puzzled, trying to figure out if he was talking to the crew or just generally thinking out loud – something she had never seen before in your blue devil; but you, after living with him for so long, already got used to. “They are not expecting to win.”

As you fought, you finally understood Vergil’s train of thought. Yes, he was talking to himself as he always did. But, one thing he got used to doing around you, was allowing those musings out so you could complement them – almost as if he willingly spoke his mind to get your opinion on something, but without actually making it a direct conversation. Complicated, yes, but you learned that, having spent so much time on his own, Vergil wasn’t used to asking other people their opinions nor getting a second point of view on something. He also seemed to be quite careful on what he turned into an actual conversation – and, that was your conclusion at least, it seemed because he was never sure if someone would like to entertain his thoughts. Instead of opening himself for rejection, Vergil would just say some things out loud and wait if you answered or not – and you usually did. It became a thing between the two of you; a comfortable way for him to start conversations and for you, well, it was quite the wholesome thing to think the Dark Slayer, Son of Sparda, King of Hell, would need such a sneaky way to prompt his deeper thoughts to his lover in fear of getting rejected.

Mr. Darcy. You would always die on the hill that Vergil probably learned all his courting and mannerisms around love from Pride and Prejudice.

“If they don’t expect to win, what do they want to accomplish?” You asked him back, focusing on the fight at hand, while Vergil glanced at you with a slight smile on his lips. He expected you to catch up to his thinking, but it was always satisfying when you actually did it. After so long, he had learned not to expect anything from anyone, but his foolish human heart would always disobey his logic mind when it came to you. “If this isn’t a trap…?”

There were more lesser demons than you had expected – and, even if you were surrounded, given that the crew that night consisted of you, Vergil, Lady and Trish, that wasn’t much of a problem. You could all defeat a swarm of those demons with just a third of your abilities, so it wasn’t exactly a challenge… More like an endurance test. Your energies would be a little depleted, that was true, but nothing that a few minutes pause while searching the castle after clearing those demons out wouldn’t resolve.

It wasn’t a trap – but it was meant to look like a trap. Those demons, though, would never be enough to subdue or catch any of you; if it was a trap, it would’ve been the most inefficient one Vergil had ever seen in his lifetime – and that was coming from a man who had seen a lot of demonic stupidity, including his own twin brother.

When it downed on Vergil, though, the realization slid through his spine like a cube of ice. With the corner of his silvery eyes, he caught a glimpse of many figures standing in the shadows, surrounding all of you in the main hall – the dark, hooded ones Lady’s friendly police officer had mentioned before. He immediately turned around to find you, his grip on Yamato ready to protect you.

“It’s a distraction.”

Those were the only words Vergil managed to say before you all felt an implosion in the middle of your group, sending you all flying away from each other. In a reflex, you reached out for your lover, gripping tightly at his arm – and, as you hit the floor, Vergil did his best to keep you from hurting too much from the fall.

“Are you alright…?”

“Yes.” Your voices were but a whisper, as Vergil helped you up.

You didn’t have time to think or to talk: as soon as you were on your feet again, you realized you were, indeed, surrounded. With those creatures coming out of the darkness to show themselves in their dark robes, you managed to see what happened to Lady and Trish: the devilish woman had her wrists locked in a set of heavy metal cuffs, chains being held by the cultists as she tried to fight in vain, having all her powers and energy depleted, making her fall to her knees on the floor, fighting for a gasp of air; the human woman had her arsenal taken away, being held in place by lesser demons who were controlled by the cultists, having no strength to fight away from their grip, keeping her on the floor while she wanted to do her best to help her friends out of that stupid situation.

Vergil stood by your side, but immediately stepped forward, keeping Yamato in front of your body as a message that, if you were to be harmed, they would have to go through him first. He had his predatorial gaze back into his silvery eyes and you could clearly see the fangs already appearing on his teeth – he just needed a little spark to trigger; and to turn that whole castle into a bloodbath.

Gripping your own sword with determination, you wouldn’t let your blue devil have all the glory that night – after all, you were a couple. In happiness and in slaughter.

“Just say when.” You murmured back at him, readying yourself to, as your Dark Slayer would say, slay all that tried to cross your way.

“The human and the she-devil are Dante’s hunting partners, Master.” One of the cloaked figures murmured to another one in the dark, drawing your attention. “The other human, with Vergil… Might be an emotional hinderance.”

“Emotional hinderance…?” Vergil muttered his words between his teeth, trying to understand what in the hell was going on that night. It didn’t make sense: it was a distraction to catch all of you, but with what intention? What was the point of it all? Who were those people and what did they want with all of you…? And why were you the only emotional hinderance…?

In a split second, though, Vergil’s eyes caught a glimpse of something underneath the dark robes of the figure who was called “Master”. Their clothes were white and golden, with a flick of red… And a symbol. A symbol Vergil had only seen a long time ago, worn by a cult who worshipped his father, in a distant city called Fortuna…

The Order of the Sword.

As soon as the “Master” raised their hand in a command, Vergil pushed you away.

“Get rid of the human. Bring me the blood of Sparda.”

“What’s going on?!” You stumbled backwards, noticing how the room suddenly went cold – and light blue specters filled the hall. That was definitely something for a ghost story you might’ve enjoyed; if you weren’t in the middle of it.

“I thought Dante had ended them.” Vergil muttered to himself between his teeth, gripping the Yamato with both hands before looking into your frightened eyes. “Run.”

With those words, he plunged Yamato in his stomach, making you scream as the specters ran towards the both of you, ready to catch Vergil and… Do whatever they wanted to do with you.

In the blink of an eye, though, you felt a familiar touch holding your hand with certainty – and, looking up, you found the warm sea-green gaze of V.

“Vergil…” You tried to call him, but he was already kneeling on the floor, blood gushing everywhere.

“I’m with you.” V murmured, turning his gaze to the approaching specters. Vergil’s silvery eyes met with the other half of himself. “I’ll keep y/n safe.”

“No…!” You tried to fight, but there wasn’t much you could do. The specters approached at a speed your eyes could barely see and soon, V was holding you in his arms and tumbling away with you to keep their ghostly fingers away from your form.

He couldn’t do much, though. You saw them gripping Vergil from the floor, with the Yamato still stuck in his stomach, dripping blood as he got up. You and V were washed by a wave of cold and darkness – and, even if you tried to reach out to Vergil, his human counterpart kept you in his arms the whole time, stopping you from doing anything foolish. As everything froze and you were surrounded by darkness, you stopped fighting, holding V back into your arms as tightly as you could.

You had no idea what was going on and where you were being thrown at – but, whatever was happening, you at least had the comfort of V’s embrace.

*

You felt as if all your bones had been ground into dust and then reassembled in what was meant to be your skeleton. Moving was certainly painful, as your muscles complained like a piece of rubber stretched to the brink of snapping apart. Your head pounded along with your heart, mirroring the pain to the back of your eyes – you feared if you started crying, there would be blood, not tears.

All that harshness, though, was contrasted by the slightly soft place you were laying – and the loving touch on your hair, almost if lulling you to sleep, while your head was placed into something warm and comfortable.

Opening your burning eyes slightly, it took you a while to focus and find V’s face against the dark sky littered with little stars.

“I know a bank where the wild thyme blows, where oxlips and the nodding violet grows…” His velvety voice started reciting, as your vision blurred and you closed your eyes once again – with a slight smile on your lips. Vergil and V loved reciting poems and classic literature, but it had been quite a while since you last heard V’s voice doing it. “Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine, with sweet musk-roses and with eglantine: there sleeps Titania sometime of the night, lulled in these flowers with dances and delight.”

“Well, then. Must be an angel who woke me from this bed.” You sighed in response, having to stop mid deep breath because of the aching in your lungs. Opening your eyes again, you found V, peacefully smiling to you in return. “If it was a proper dream, it would certainly be a flowery one, just like the fairy’s bed. But I think having you is enough of a wonder in my dreams.”

“Alas, I couldn’t find any flowers to do you justice, my love. Not so many of them growing in this abandoned garden.” V used his free hand to show you around, still keeping his other hand caressing your hair while your head was safely cradled on his lap. “And I’m afraid this is not a dream.”

You furrowed your brows. Yes, you remembered everything that happened. But being in that garden, safely sleeping in V’s lap, it had to be a dream – or a nightmare, depending on your point of view. That was such a rare thing to happen, you couldn’t believe it to be real.

“It seems to me that yet we sleep, we dream.”

“Why then, we are awake.” V let out a silent giggle while watching you frown once more, still slowly brushing your hair. “It would be all a dream, if it wasn’t the fact we are all in danger and Vergil separated from me in a desperate act to protect you.”

“Me? I…” You closed your eyes while trying to get up, feeling a sting on your head again. With a sigh, you laid your head back on V’s lap. He watched you with sorrowful eyes, now caressing your forehead as you gazed back at him. “It was the best strategy to not allow that group of weirdos to catch all of us, and all of himself… Yourself. It was smart and strategic, as always.”

“No. It was an impulse from the heart.” V smiled back, his voice barely making any noise in that quiet night. “He always manages to make everything look like the best war strategy, but I know his heart. He separated us so he could keep you safe, even after he inevitably got caught. That was a good strategy – but do not be fooled: it was a decision from the heart. Out of love.”

You turned your gaze away from his eyes, feeling your cheeks burning in the process. V had to let out another giggle.

Elizabeth Bennet. He would always think you were as proud and quick thinking as her, but a blushing mess anytime you got caught into flirting and honest feelings – just like the protagonist in Pride and Prejudice.

“What… Happened to us then…?” You closed your eyes, shaking your head slightly – partially because you still didn’t want to look back into those sea-green eyes. Vergil always managed to have an intense stare that seemed to bare your soul, no matter in which form he presented himself. “I remember holding you when everything went dark and cold… And then I woke up here. In my flowery bed.”

“Oh, that…” Now it was V’s turn to avoid your gaze as you opened your eyes again. Differently from Vergil, V wore his heart on his sleeve, and you could always understand what he was feeling from just looking at him. V never tried to hide discomfort, shame, fear, love, affection, desire or happiness – he just let it wash through his body and show in his eyes. Just like he looked extremely avoidant and somewhat ashamed at the moment. “I have to admit… It wasn’t one of my most flattering moments.”

It was your turn to giggle, as he spoke slowly. V turned his now uneasy eyes to you, but he only found care and warmth written in your face. He longed to be the dark, romantic hero that you deserved, but… Sometimes, he couldn’t quite live up to the part.

“As soon as we were expelled out here, your body failed you.” He explained with a little more certainty in his voice, caressing your hair with fondness. “And I was not expecting that. I hadn’t quite realized what had happened yet.”

“Oh, so you have answers to this?”

“Yes, but you will have to wait. One answer at a time, curious little soul.” V replied in a playful manner, tapping the tip of your nose with his index finger – something that made both of you smile. It was so different to be with him when Vergil wasn’t around, but, at the same time, so familiar. V was indeed Vergil’s heart with all his barriers melted away, at its most vulnerable. “Well… You fell into my arms with all your weight. My head too was spinning and, when we separate, my body isn’t always at its best. You know.” He gave you a knowing look, which you nodded in response. It always took some seconds for V’s body to get used to being back, so he was always weaker at first – given how fast everything happened, you understood it all must have felt like a sudden hurricane to him. “I… Might have fallen down on the ground with you.”

“Oh.” And you let out another giggle, noticing his slightly uneasy gaze under the smile from watching your reaction. “A moment fit for a romantic book, honestly.”

“Well, I did hold you and my body was enough to break your fall. You didn’t get hurt.”

“Imagine if I was awake. It would’ve been one of those cheesy moments, with the couple on top of each other, exchanging intense stares and blushing cheeks.” As soon as you mentioned it, though, it was V’s turn to blush a little, something he tried to pretend wasn’t happening. No matter who he was, the pride would always be there. “Did you get hurt?”

“No need to worry about that. I did cushion your fall, but I didn’t have to trade bruises.” And a slight smile appeared on V’s lips, as he brushed a few strands of hair away from your face. He always had a sort of warmth spreading on his chest every time you cared so much about him – Vergil did too, but V showed how much he appreciated that. “It took me a while to be back on my feet, though. With my head spinning and weakness on my legs, I didn’t trust myself to… Do things quickly.”

“Hmmm. I’m slightly disappointed now, knowing I spent so long laying in your arms and wasn’t aware to seize the moment.” You once more avoided his gaze, but keeping a funny expression on your face, as if it was almost a joke – something Vergil would always think you had picked up from Dante. It wasn’t something he was annoyed at, though.

“I can always come back in a more appropriate timing.” V had a pleased and flattered smile spread through his lips, while his strokes on your hair grew fonder. It always felt like one of the most beautiful songs when you pointed out how much you enjoyed his company and his touch. “When I managed to get back up, I carried you in my arms to find a more comfortable place so you could recover. It didn’t take long before you woke up.”

“I am extremely disappointed to know I missed all of this.” You had an empty expression and just stared blankly at the stars in the sky while speaking in monotone. V couldn’t hold back a genuine laugh – the first, and probably only one, from that night. “You have to insist to come back and make up for this. Or at least annoy Vergil to do so.”

“Oh, you shall be swept from your feet when you least expect, my beloved.” And V made sure to let it linger in the air if he would be the one doing it, or his whole counterpart. “How are you feeling? I’m afraid we have urgent matters to attend to.”

“Hmmm, we have to save you from that… Cult? What was that?” You shook your head, closing your eyes in annoyance just to think about it. Spending time with V in that secret, abandoned garden was indeed like a dream – but all dreams eventually come to an end; and you had to wake up. You wished, though, you had more time to yourselves, since V’s visits were so rare. “Also, you said you knew what’s happening; so, please, explain.”

“You did not answer my question, love.” Even with all the urgency, V managed to have a calm, almost invisible smile on his lips; his face carrying none of the worry it should have.

“I’m feeling like I was broken and reassembled at least three times already.” You answered with a deep sigh. “But honestly, I’ve had worse. My head has stopped pounding, and I feel like I can sit down, at least. While you explain, I think it will be more than enough time for me to recover.”

“Hmmm. You should not push your body to your limit. You are only human, after all.” And it was in words like those where you could easily feel Vergil and V were indeed the same person – the same heart in different iterations. There was absolutely no difference from the way your blue devil would have reacted.

“Oh, don’t you start patronizing me, Mr. I-am-a-half-demon-and-have-the-endurance-of-four-armies.” You had to complain back while sitting up, taking a few seconds to have your head stop spinning. But, as soon as it did, you managed to take a deep breath and ascertain you weren’t being harassed by any headaches or other kinds of dizziness. That already counted as a win. “Leave that to your whole, headstrong, often infuriating counterpart. I’m not pushing myself.”

“If I didn’t know you that well, I might agree.” Once again, V tapped the tip of your nose with his index finger. “But you are as headstrong as I am in my wholeness, and I know you are, indeed, lying. I don’t wish to see you falling apart, my love. I’m worried about you; and it’s only natural when I care so much for you.”

“I- you…” You finally fell silent, with a gaze filled with resolve but not enough words to keep on arguing. When it came to Vergil, it was easier: you were both infinitely proud, and you could always count on that to be able to get your point across and make him trust in your willpower to push through whatever situation. With V, though? He knew exactly how to disarm you: being honest and telling you, point blank, it all stemmed from worrying out of too much love. You hardly ever knew how to respond to that. “Why do you have to speak to me like that…?”

“Because foolish Vergil will not.” V smiled back, approaching to place a longing kiss on your forehead. The same way you always managed to break Vergil apart with kindness, V seemed like having a point on always doing the same back to you. “We will keep on going and finish this job for tonight. But don’t be afraid to ask me for support whenever you need it. I am here for you, and I will always be.”

“V…” You let out a sigh, closing your eyes and leaning your forehead towards him, almost touching his lips again. You didn’t know if you wanted to hold him, kiss him or suplex him on the floor face first for making you so vulnerable and lost at what to say or do. “You didn’t answer my question, Shakespeare…”

And even if you were scolding him, your voice seemed more like a whining rather than anything else – making him smile. V liked to know he could melt the barriers around your heart, the same way you did with Vergil. After all, you were always so caring and kind towards him, but Vergil wasn’t always the best in showing his affection – V could make up for that on the rare occasions he appeared, though.

“You did answer mine. Do know that I care deeply for you, and that’s where my worry stems from.” He had a slight smile on his lips, placing another quick kiss on your forehead, since it was already so close. You only sighed in response, raising your eyes to him, waiting for his answer. There was nothing more you could say or do, just accept all that love. “What made me split in two was the realization of who that group is. Back from the dead, fitting for Halloween in a matter of fact, the Order of the Sword.”

“Wait. What? The Order of the Sword?” You immediately furrowed your brows, as V calmly shook his head in confirmation with every question of yours. “The Fortuna Order of the Sword? The crazy-god-wannabe-demon-consuming- cult-leader-Sanctus Order of the Sword? The one Nero, Nico and Kyrie got out? The one Dante and Nero should have wiped out by now?”

“Indeed. I also thought Dante had made the loyal ones perish until the Order was extinct. Nero could never do it to his people, but they were never Dante’s people.” V’s voice grew somber as he continued speaking. “Dante isn’t much of a fool as I say when I am in my entirety. I know he wouldn’t have mercy with those demons… But he does have too big of a heart when it comes to humans.”

It was a slightly harsh comment that, if it came from Vergil’s mouth, it would’ve sounded like a judgmental scolding of sorts. With V, though, you could see the empathy in his eyes – how he thought the same as his brother and how he understood Dante completely; understanding, as well, that Dante’s heart was his biggest strength but also his greatest weakness.

“You think someone might have fooled him into believing they left the Order for good?”

“I can see Dante sparing someone who sees the wrong of their ways and vows to live a human life. We have plenty of examples in the Devil May Cry.” As V answered, you could read in his eyes the examples were him and Trish; but also many others you had encountered along the way.

“So, the Order remained. Now it makes sense why they were targeting you, Vergil, specifically. They already know Lady and Trish from hunting with Dante, but they don’t know me…”

“They do know you have my heart.” V answered with a sigh and a vulnerability you could only see in those sea-green eyes. Vergil would usually say something like that without crossing your sight, looking away so he would have the courage to say those kinds of thoughts out loud. It was disarming and rather beautiful how vulnerable V could be. “Hence the possible emotional hinderance.”

“Oh, yes. I remember them calling me that.” You wrinkled your nose, annoyed at how they completely dismissed how lethal you could be. V couldn’t help but giggle at your reaction. “They said I might be one.”

“It’s possible that they know by now that Nero is my son, something they completely ignored before…”

“And now they don’t know how much you care for me. Makes sense.” You nodded along. “They mentioned the blood of Sparda. Figuratively or literally?”

“That, we will have to find out, my love.” V smiled back at you, but he did have a slight sadness to his eyes. “When getting rid of us, though, they did something that might be helpful to our cause.”

“Oh?” You raised one eyebrow, trying to figure out the quiet desolation in his eyes. “You mean, the teleportation?”

“It wasn’t a simple teleportation, love. We have been… Spirited away, you might say.”

“Excuse me?”

That was a new thing. Of all things that had happened to you on Halloween so far, you could now check that one as “been there, done that”. Something you would have never guessed if you had to.

“I am already part of a soul, wandering about, split in two and not whole, so it doesn’t affect me, but you… Their intention was to keep you trapped in the spirit world; so you would roam around the castle, but this time more as a ghost rather than a living one.” And now you could finally understand why he looked slightly sad with that happening. “I can guess that, from all your arcane studies on your own and with my whole counterpart, you managed to not be trapped in your entirety – and now you walk half among the real world, half among the spirit world.”

“Oh. That is… Interesting, to say the least.” You took a deep breath, immediately feeling a sharp sting on your ribs. “Why does my body hurt so much, though? I won’t be able to fight properly like this.”

“Humans aren’t made to survive something like this. Your body is fighting as much as it can to keep itself together.” V made a flourish with his hand, pointing towards himself. “A little bit like yours truly.”

“Well… Two halves make a whole, then.” You had resolve back into your eyes, placing your hands on his face to give him a quick kiss. No kiss could be too quick with V, though, for he always melted into your lips and leaned in whenever you started to pull away. And you never managed to resist it. “We have to save you from the crazy cult before they do whatever it is that they want to do with you. And if I know the story well, they will probably try to raise Hell with Yamato and ascend to godhood.”

“And I would bet on your deduction. You are often right; but I guess, that’s what you get for being so observing and smart.” V remarked as you got up from the stone seat, grabbing his own silver cane to follow you – and, of course, he would always notice at how you would blush at his usual flattering.

“Oh, aren’t you a charmer…”

You would have continued your bantering if the air around you didn’t start going cold. V immediately neared you, his hand finding your hand and his fingers interlacing with yours, as he pulled you closer, even somewhat behind him. You had your usual fighting stance, but you also have his silver cane in front of both of you, ready to block any surprise attacks.

The atmosphere seemed to warp for a moment, and the air escaped your lungs for a fragment of a second. With a dark cloud, Yamato materialized right in front of you and V – leaving the both of you dumbfounded.

To leave V speechless was quite the feat – and some would argue the same with you. As a couple, you were known for being eloquent and having long conversations about any and every subject that crossed your minds. But there you were: with a lack of words, furrowed brows, still holding hands, staring at Yamato.

“Did you summon your sword…?”

“No. Only Vergil uses the Yamato.” V’s words carried something else now – a very human tremor, that most would be quick to call fear. You didn’t want to call it that… Because if you did, you would have to admit that V, the human counterpart of Vergil, the Dark Slayer, your lover… Was afraid. “I have my own ways to fight. Yamato doesn’t leave his hands…”

“Unless he wants it to. Or…”

You didn’t have to finish your thinking. The only way Yamato would leave Vergil’s hands, was if he gave it away willingly, if he was broken – as it happened with Mundus – or if he was dead.

A wave of dread washed over you, causing your vision to darken and your world to spin. You had never thought of that possibility, of Vergil being gone before you. After all, he was the half-demon one, the one with all the stamina, endurance and supernatural abilities you could only dream of. In your point of view, Vergil couldn’t die. Now, though, you were being faced with the reality that Vergil was indeed half-human – as fragile, breakable and mortal as all humans were.

The prospect of having lost him stole the air from your lungs and the floor from your feet. If V wasn’t holding your hand and hadn’t quickly wrapped his arm around you, you would have certainly hit the ground.

“Vergil is not gone. Or I wouldn’t be here, love. Listen to me.” His deep voice snapped you out of those thoughts, as if pulling you back from deep within the sea. You took a deep breath, focusing back on his face. “I have faced worse than a washed-up cult in search for a power that isn’t theirs. It would take a lot more than that to kill me.” And, differently than a lot of people, you found his pride and arrogance quite reassuring – because of situations like those. “Vergil wouldn’t send the Yamato to me, knowing I do not use it… He would send it to you. And if he did so, it’s because he… Well, I… We are in danger.”

“Agnus was studying Yamato before Nero awakened, right…?” You shook your head, trying to pull yourself together. Your chest was still hurting with the sudden prospect that you might have lost your lover, though. “Then the blood of Sparda might not be the only thing this Order needs to do whatever they want to do.”

“And Vergil would trust the Yamato to you in order to stop them.” V completed your thought, as you nodded in agreement. “You do know how to use it, don’t you?”

You let go of his hand, approaching the sword calmly floating in front of you. Like Rebellion, Yamato was a force to be reckoned with. One should approach it with resolve and respect – that, you had learned well.

Wrapping your fingers around the dark blue sheath, the sword accepted you well, used to your touch. You had Vergil’s trust, heart, respect and pride – and so, you also had Yamato’s. Unsheathing the sword, the blade glistened under the moonlight, accepting you as its wielder for the night; and, as you put it back where it belonged, it rested in the sheath with its usual cling and light blue flare.

“I do.” You had a confident smile on your lips, seeming like some of your strength had returned to your body. As your eyes met V’s, he smiled back upon seeing your spirit back. “You taught me well.”

It was time to save your lover from the Order of the Sword.

*Midsummer Night's Dream, Shakespeare

*

The only reason why Vergil’s heart could remain still, was his human self keeping you safe.

Yes, he knew you would tirelessly argue you didn’t need anyone to keep you safe because you could perfectly care for yourself – and Vergil adored that resolve and power inside of you – but he had seen with his own eyes all things he loved be extinguished; even if they were, in theory, protected. You couldn’t blame him for wanting to protect you with all his might – of trusting only in his own power to make sure no harm would come to you.

That was one of the reasons why he allowed the Order of the Sword to easily escort him to a guarded room; covered with demonic sigils to suppress his powers and render him virtually powerless.

The other reason was that V wasn’t the only one who was weak when they parted from each other. With his demonic side now rather tamed by himself, Vergil could keep most of his appearance when his human side took a walk – his skin was bluish as Urizen’s in some spots, with scales showing up in the parts of his body that needed more protection; his eyes had a tinge of demonic yellow, his teeth now bearing fangs and his nails elongated in dark claws. The major problem, though, was the wound in his flank: having buried Yamato in himself to separate parts of his soul, Vergil now had a wound that kept dripping red, sticky blood, pooling under him as it took its time to heal.

Even if demons could heal faster, that was a wound that was actually a little slower to heal – given its implications.

Kneeling on the floor of the room, Vergil patiently meditated with Yamato lying by his side. You had just been taken and he had just been moved to that room – the only way he knew you were alright, was by silencing his mind and his surroundings to listen to his heart. The wound would heal faster and he would have a better idea what to do after he recovered if he focused on something instead of allowing his mind to wander in anxious, useless thoughts.

He could feel V’s gentleness, a silent adoration while everything was quiet – almost contemplative. Vergil questioned if you were awake; after all, that calm contemplation was out of place, given their current situation. He felt a spike of worry in his heart – but instead of dwelling on it, Vergil let it wash through his body and let go. There was nothing he could do, and all he could do should be through his human counterpart. And if his humanity deemed better to contemplate you for a while, then that was the best thing to do.

Vergil took a deep breath, feeling the room around him. The sigils suppressed all his power and there was little he could do as a demon to escape. He felt other presences outside: two of them, guarding the door of the room he was kept in. He could hear whispers in the walls, talking loud enough for him to hear them, but too low for Vergil to be able to make out some words.

The Order of the Sword. He only met them briefly, investigating their motivations behind the worshipping of his father, of his blood. At the time, Vergil saw no issues with them: a bit of a circus, yes, worshipping a demon as a god, but no nefarious purposes behind it – no hidden agendas to bring doom and destruction. At least, that was what Vergil saw at the time.

After he was stranded in Hell with his brother and having had the opportunity to spend some time with the son he never knew he had, Vergil learned his judgement had been wrong – as it usually was back when he was so young, about so many things. The Order had, indeed, their own foul agenda on demonic power, clandestine experiments and humans trying to play god through such sinful powers as theirs.

It was supposedly gone. Nero and especially Dante should’ve taken care of it: making sure the Order of the Sword was just a dark piece of the history of Fortuna. Then how did they survive?

That was the only question that made Vergil turn himself in so peacefully: he wanted answers before extinguishing them for good.

“Do apologize for keeping you waiting, Dark Slayer.” The so-called Master finally entered the room, having removed his dark cloak and now displaying his white and golden robes adorned with motives from the Order. Eerily similar to Sanctus’ robes, but carrying something of a warrior’s clothes. Vergil made a mental note on that, concluding the man should know his way around a sword – maybe an old acquaintance of Nero’s adoptive brother, Credo. “Tonight is a very special night, there are many preparations and we are doing our best to receive the blood of Sparda with all the circumstance you deserve. My followers call me Master; you can call me Valette.”

“I wonder which circumstance you deem I deserve.” Vergil answered quietly, still kneeling on the floor. He wasn’t ready to get up yet, not when his wounds were still so fresh. He also didn’t want to look respectful towards the man who had just captured his crew: he would put himself on his feet and be courteous to someone who he deemed as equal; which wasn’t the case. “And which King you bow to.”

Valette tried to conceal the quick flash of anger in his eyes upon hearing Vergil’s words, forcing a twitching smile to appear on his lips. Vergil did have to hold back his tongue not to call the man a page: the playing card he would be according to his actual name, not the title of Master he liked boasting around.

“I bow to the King of Kings.” Valette made a flourish with his hand, maybe signaling Vergil. It was vague, so he couldn’t know for sure. “I understand your instinct of suspecting us, especially after your capture – and for that, I also apologize. But we did know none of you would follow us willingly, so we had to resort to violence in order to have a civil conversation.”

“Hmmm. Civility being spirting away two of my own, capturing and vanishing with the other two, and arresting my wounded self in this suppressing room.” Vergil finally took a deep breath, resting his hands on his thighs to put himself back on his feet. He did hold Yamato before getting up, glancing at Valette with his cold, silver eyes. “Indeed. Very civil.”

“Again. I apologize.” Valette’s smile, this time, had a hint of mischief. “But we do know the blood of Sparda and those you surround yourselves with. It was an assurance…”

“Not to spoil your special night.” Vergil nodded along, now spreading a proud smile on the man’s face. He could see they were on the same page. “Samhein evenings are powerful among arcane academics. Tell me, which demon are you summoning with my blood tonight?”

“Oh, please, Dark Slayer. We wouldn’t do that with you.” Valette looked genuinely offended, placing one of his hands over his heart. “You carry the blood of your father, the great Sparda. We maintained the Order Nero and Dante fought so harshly to destroy; we kept our rituals, we kept our faith. Your twin brother is a traitor for rejecting your father’s legacy and power! Something you don’t shy away from…!”

Vergil did his best not to frown with the man’s speech. Up until now, Valette seemed like a well-balanced man, logic and proper. Vergil’s simple implication of them using his blood to summon a demon, though, slowly made Valette shed his demeanor and show who he truly was: a religious fanatic, treating his blood as divine.

Dante wasn’t the only one to have issues with that – not after everything Vergil went through because of the blood running in his veins; that cursed, demonic, bittersweet blood he was fated to carry to his very grave.

To call it divine was an insult.

“You know the extent of its power, of your power…! If only you could remember your heritage…” Valette closed his eyes, shaking his head with a sigh drenched in pity. “You have strayed from that path long ago, having spent too much time with your brother and son; with those hunters you found; with… Love.” The man opened his eyes again, now scrunching his nose as if he was assaulted by some foul smell. Vergil’s blood started boiling inside his heart, even if his demeanor remained cold and arrogant: Valette was talking about you. And no one talked about his beloved like that in front of him. “Poisoning your heart with humanity will lead you nowhere, Dark Slayer… You’re meant to be a King, not… Not a flawed human, like the rest of us. If only you remembered that, you would see you are fated to be worshipped like a god, just like your father Sparda, being the heir to his divine legacy…!”

“Enough.” Vergil’s voice was dry and sharp, as much as the blade of his sword. Valette’s eyes snapped towards him, caught by surprise with such harshness. “You seem to forget who you’re speaking to. The domains you talk about are nothing close to divine: my powers come from wretched suffering and despair, from the pits of Hell itself. I am not meant to be a King. I already am. And it is no power to be worshipped.” Vergil had his head slightly held high, pointing at the man with Yamato still in its sheath – making Valette flinch back with his slow, calculated gesture. Vergil’s eyes burned like ice. “End this circus immediately and I will make your demise less painful. If you choose to fight, however, remember you were the one to cause your own suffering while I’ll have you choking in a pool of your own blood.”

Valette had his eyes wide open for a few seconds before closing them and letting out a deep breath. Vergil didn’t move a muscle, only observing the man – internally finding it strange how he looked… Disappointed?

“I was hoping we wouldn’t have to come to this, Dark Slayer…” Valette opened his eyes again, almost pitiful. Vergil couldn’t stop himself from slightly furrowing his brows. “But you leave me no choice.”

With a flick of his wrist, the man commanded the room to warp to his will. Vergil unsheathed the Yamato, but the sigils on the walls started glowing more and more, until two of them burned on the inner part of his wrists – making Vergil immediately drop his weapon.

Looking down at his hands, Vergil had his eyes wide open and brows furrowed, holding back the screams of pain of having his skin deeply burned – a burn not only in his skin, but his soul. That was ancient arcane knowledge, a type of arcane knowledge he only saw once, only felt once… With Mundus.

“Sanctus’ researches were very thorough, my King…” Valette still had that sorrow in his eyes, while the marked etched Vergil in ways he wished he could forget – bringing back memories he fought so bad to leave shackled in the depths of his mind. “He passed them on to me, and I… Well, I take a bit of pride in saying I was able to summon some of the demons that knew what happened to you, that understood what happened to Vergil… To Nelo Angelo.”

As he heard that name, Vergil closed his eyes, stumbling on his own feet and fighting against the burning tears that threatened to involuntarily start streaming down his face. He knew what Valette was doing, and he had no power against it. Not when he was only half of himself: if Vergil hadn’t split his soul in two to keep you safe, he would be protected. But he sacrificed his own safety for you – and that was something he would never regret. Even so, his heart started beating frantically, knowing what was next.

He had to think. Think. His full power as King of Hell should be enough to break whatever the Order was planning – and Valette himself. But he wasn’t whole and he was vulnerable. What could he do against that…?

“It will be only for a moment, my King. Only until we are sure you will participate in tonight’s ritual and claim your divinity. We would never hurt you, Dark Slayer…” With another flick of Valette’s hands, a sigil started burning between Vergil’s eyes, making it impossible for him to hold back his tears – red tears of his own wretched blood. “This is for your own good. You shall thank me someday, my King.”

Vergil wouldn’t be able to fight back for long, not in the state he was. Ironically, everything he ever did up until that moment in his life was to avoid falling in that same trap, those same shackles that tied him down to Mundus’ will for so long. The ones that made him become hollow, just a shell of himself, while his mind drifted in the void for what seemed to be an eternity.

He wouldn’t be able to save himself, for he wasn’t King. He would need help. And there was only one he could trust at that moment.

Seizing the last shards of his own will before the sigil wiped it away from his heart, Vergil grabbed the Yamato, turning around and throwing the blade through the window – smashing it into a thousand little stars, the demonic sword received one last free command from its owner’s heart: to find and lend you his power.

With that last gesture of resistance, Vergil crumbled on the floor, almost falling back to his knees. Valette waited while holding his breath, watching the Dark Slayer slowly get up and turn around to him… Milky eyes, as if a veil trapped him between worlds, expressionless face etched with the sigil on his forehead.

“We shall continue the preparation for your divine ascension, my King.” Valette’s words had a hint of expectation, dancing around the uncertainty of Vergil’s answer.

“And so it shall be done.” Vergil nodded discreetly, with the regal quietness of a true King; his voice already slightly distorted. “And there shall be no mistakes, Valette. My father’s blood shall reign supreme as it always should have. To all who try to stop it… Their punishment will be death.”

Valette opened a radiant smile, ready to follow Vergil’s orders. It took some time, but with Mundus’ old subjugating spell, he broke the will of the son of Sparda to go along with their truth. After all, Vergil didn’t need a mind of his own after being poisoned by humanity for so long… Valette could guide his god to his rightful path.

*

You pulled V up the balustrade with all your strength.

As soon as you pulled him enough, you wrapped his hand around your neck and helped him jump over the stone rail, while he helped himself with his silver cane. Safely on the balcony, V faced you a few inches from your face, a kind smile gracing his lips.

“Thank you, my love. Apologies for causing you so much trouble.” Unwrapping his hand from your neck, he used it to caress your face, making you slightly blush with the sudden gesture.

Vergil was polite and would thank you, but not in such an obvious, loving manner. Luckily, no one was around to watch you – or you would’ve probably buried your head on the ground like an ostrich out of shame.

“No need to thank me. I’d carry you over miles and miles if you needed me to.” You answered as if it was obvious, smiling back at him before turning around and looking for an entrance for the castle. “Now, stop flirting and focus on the task at hand.”

“I am only doing what Vergil wants to do but fails when I’m not around.” V’s answer was low pitched; a velvety tone so no one but you would hear your conversation. “As my whole counterpart would state, he does not have the talent of conversing easily.”

“Well, perhaps he should take your advice and practice.” Your reply came a little absent-minded while you tried to force a tall, stained-glass window open, completely ignoring the endeared smile on V’s lips and eyes filled with admiration.

He didn’t expect anything less from you, his very own Elizabeth Bennet.

“Perhaps, I might be able to help you with that…” V finally came back to your mission, already feeling his hands trembling slightly and a certain weakness on his legs. He couldn’t last too long away from Vergil, and if he didn’t come back soon, he would certainly start falling apart.

Approaching the window, V stood next to one of the parts that were broken apart – not too wide, but enough to fit his hand… And his cane. Gripping it with certainty, he used the handle to reach the inside of the window, pushing the lock up and opening the way for both of you to get inside – without a single noise.

“Have I ever told you I love you? Because I do.” You turned to him with a smile, now making him blush slightly. “Very smart. Saved us a lot of time and noise.”

“You were responsible for getting us up here without Griffon. I am merely doing my part.” With a bow, V signaled you to enter first, following right after and closing the window as soon as you both were inside. “My feathered friend would have destroyed any attempt at stealth.”

“Oof, that he would. Love Griffon and the familiars, but stealth is not in their hall of abilities…” You took a deep breath, resting your hand on your hips and taking a look around. Everything was eerily quiet and there were no signs of the cult anywhere. “What do you say? Trial and error?”

“We will have to find them eventually. Doesn’t matter which path we take.” V looked to the two sides of the corridor, pointing at the one on his left. “Should we start?”

*

“Just you wait when I get my hands on you!” The phrase was followed by the loud noise of shackles being violently shaken. “I’m gonna blow you all up!”

And the sound of a closing door.

“Oh, that’s Lady! I know that feisty voice too well!” Your heart immediately started beating faster, happy to know at least she was alright.

Except for the sound of the chains, but judging by her voice, she was still fighting – which meant Lady was in her natural state. Everything was alright.

“C’mon! Let’s talk to her!” You whispered to V, holding his hand and quickly following the aisle – entering another aisle where you could see a decent sized room underneath.

Beyond the stone guardrail, you found Trish and Lady chained next to each other, with heavy iron handcuffs and chains keeping them trapped to the wall – unable to move more then a few feet from where they stood… Or where they could sit on two old armchairs, seemingly covered in dust and forgotten by time. It was probably safer to sit on the floor.

A heavy wooden door kept them in, no windows to escape and completely stripped from their guns. Trish’s handcuffs had some sigils inscribed, which you identified as some old binding magic – so she couldn’t use her demonic powers. The two women had been rendered completely powerless.

“We have to talk to them…” You looked around, finding an old tapestry that hung from the roof to the stony floor. You looked back at V. “Think you can climb down…?”

“The things we do for the ones we love…” His answer was a little ominous, followed by a sigh as you giggled, and a kiss to your forehead. “You lead. I will follow, love.”

As you approached the tapestry, tough, you remembered the very blade you carried in your hands. Looking down at Yamato, you thanked internally whatever powers that were at play that night, for Vergil would certainly kill you if he knew what you had in mind.

“Actually… Hold on to me, V. I have a better idea.”

V didn’t question as he climbed up the guardrail alongside you, holding you from behind. You kept your arms free, able to unsheathe the glistening blade, so well cared for. And, in your best pirate fashion, you sunk Yamato on the tapestry, hopping down to the first floor, slicing the drapery in half on the way and cushioning your fall with V.

To say Lady and Trish were staring was an understatement.

“Well… That’s a first.” The she-devil was the first one to speak as Lady still stared at you and V, a little dumbfounded. “Gotta say, you surpassed Dante on that one.”

“What is he doing here?!” As Lady pointed at V, the sound of the shackles reverberated dramatically. “Is Vergil… Oh, damn, did he go full power-hungry-demon again?!”

“Not this time. He split because he wanted part of himself to keep an eye on his loved ones.” Even if her tone was aggressive, V answered her with respect and calm. He knew Lady had all the reasons to suspect and hate Vergil – and he wouldn’t force her to feel otherwise.

“Oh.” Lady immediately frowned and, if you didn’t know her any better, you would say she blushed a little. After all, V said loved ones, plural, not only you. Lady and Trish also meant something to him, even if they didn’t know what – and you’d risk saying not even Vergil knew. He just knew they were important in his life, and that was enough for him to want to protect them. “Wait. Trish, is that what they meant…?”

“About the ascension ceremony?” Trish had one eyebrow raised, as Lady nodded enthusiastically. “If they have Vergil, or whatever’s left of Vergil, maybe.”

“Ok, you lost me there. Rewind, ladies.” You were now near them, having V by your side and Yamato back in its sheath. Something told you Vergil would remember that from V’s memories – but that was a problem for future you. Right now, you had to save him, apparently. “What ascension ceremony? And what Vergil has got to do with this?”

“That stupid head of this stupid cult said we were to be held as sacrifices for the ascension ceremony of their god.” Lady put her hands on her waist, and when she was cursing like that, it meant she now held a grudge against them. “Maybe they’re holding Vergil as well? To finish ascending their god, whatever that means…?”

“Oh, no…” V’s expression was immediately washed with realization and his hands started to tremble slightly as he noticed what was going on. You turned back at him, watching with worry that he might faint – if he would, you’d be ready to hold him. “The Order of the Sword. Their god is Sparda.”

“Oh.” And now the realization washed over your face. “Vergil is the closest link to his father.”

“Wait – did you say, Order of the Sword…?” Trish had one of her hands on her waist, the other pointing at V as he nodded ominously. She furrowed her brows, now crossing her arms. “I thought we had finished them a long time ago.”

“Apparently, cutting down a cult is harder than we thought. Gotta poison the roots so they stop growing.” You sighed, running one of your hands on your forehead.

“What are they gonna do? Turn Vergil into a god?!” Lady couldn’t be more offended, but somehow she was when V started nodding in confirmation. “They… Can’t! It’s fucking impossible!”

“Well… He is King of Hell already. Technically.” You offered a piece of your thoughts, receiving a not so nice glare from the human hunter. You wouldn’t lie: you would flex Vergil’s title every now and then, and Lady would always scold you for it. “Wouldn’t that interfere with the god thing…?”

“It’s not so different from what Mundus tried.” Trish still had her arms crossed, now a lot more serious than before. It wasn’t usual for her to talk about him, but given the conversation, she was the one with most knowledge. “I mean, before Dante killed him. Good riddance.” As she spoke, you saw a flash of disgust and anger burn in her cold blue eyes. “But it can be done. Being King, in this situation, is actually a leverage. My best guess: they will use our blood to open a portal and summon a powerful demon, so that they can use that demon’s power and life as essence to, well, perform the so-called ascension.”

After her words, silence fell between all of you like a fine mist. It was a lot to think about, but there was one question that still hadn’t been answered…

“Why is Vergil going along with all of this?” Lady shook her head, furrowing her brows and looking back at you and V – as if you would know all about the blue devil. “I thought his power-hungry days were over. At least a little bit.”

“Something is not right with him, Lady…” V’s answer was low, carrying a weight he didn’t even understand why he was feeling. But he was certain it came from Vergil. “I would go as far as saying something is binding him.”

“If he was safe, he wouldn’t have thrown me this.” And you showed them the sword in your hands, making both women raise their eyebrows in shock. “Vergil wouldn’t part with Yamato if everything was fine. This is a silent call for help, ladies, and I’ll break Heaven, Earth and Hell to heed his call.”

*

I heard your silent call for help. And I will break Heaven, Earth and Hell to heed your call.

Vergil opened his eyes and looked around the room, that ghostly voice interrupting his meditations. He was, though, alone – as he asked Valette to leave him. The ritual would be done in time and the man had to prepare the ceremony; Vergil would wait patiently so he could finally absorb the power that was not rightfully his, but the one he deserved. The power to be a god.

But that voice. It stirred something inside him – his chest, his stomach, his mind…? – and disrupted his meditative state; imperative for preparing for his part to be played at the ritual.

It was a silent voice. Distant. Soft. Seemed to come from another life, another self, another soul; but still heard by him, by his mind, by his heart.

Vergil rolled his eyes. That pitiful human heart would be torn from his chest and he wouldn’t have to worry about it, ever again. He would be free of his humanity, of his weakness, and would be able to life fully in his power and security.

Closing his eyes again, he took a deep breath, quieting his mind and lulling his thoughts into nothingness.

You always look so peaceful when you meditate like that.

Once again that voice. He immediately opened his eyes, looking around to catch who was saying those words.

But they were distant, almost like a fading memory from the back of his mind… The back of his heart. Vergil got on his feet, pacing around the room, waiting for more… Longing for more – even if that ridiculous feeling didn’t make sense. There was nothing more important than the ceremony that night, still…

That voice mattered. He did not know why, but a distant something told him it mattered. It was fading, slowly disappearing, but fighting with tooth and claw to remain… To make him remember. To be heard.

And something inside himself – a feeling? An instinct? – told him he should find out what that voice meant. Who owned that voice.

Why it felt so important.

Feels like flying… The voice giggled like little silver bells twinkling in the distance, fading away and coming back with the cadence of waves. Vergil found an old candelabrum holding a few old, molten candles lit by demonic fire, and took it in his hand, opening the heavy wooden door in his room, leaving for the long, silent aisle. There was nothing but a rotten, moth-eaten rug on the floor – and corridors to both sides, extending as far as he could see. Dancing with you, I feel like I’m flying. A waltz in the sky… A waltz in a dream…

The voice whispered ghostly down one side of the aisle and Vergil followed with certainty on his steps. He didn’t want that voice to stop talking, he didn’t want those silver bells to stop twinkling. There was something about it, he didn’t know what it was… But it haunted him, it pained him, it made him yearn for something he didn’t even know what it was.

Do you see me, love? Can you hear me…?

“Who are you…?” He whispered back, his milky, veiled eyes trying to follow just the sound, gothic corridors lit only by the faint light of the candles. He knew that voice, but, at the same time, he didn’t.

You’ll find the answer in your heart. When you remember how we waltz – flying among the stars.

“I… Never waltzed. That’s for humans.” His answer was but a whisper, to be heard by that voice only, carrying his loathing for the human heart – or, at least, that was what he attempted. Saying those words out loud made him feel something sharp in his heart – and a shame of having never tried something so beautiful and, at the same time, trying to lie about his disdain for it.

There was something, stirring right there at the bottom. A longing, a wistfulness, a knowledge. Something was missing; Somone was missing. Not his mother – he learned, with time, to smother his pain with contempt; with words that made him sure she left him to die. It was easier that way: easier to accept the tragedy, to accept her death, and his death in a sense. But it wasn’t her… It was someone else. The one who owned that voice.

And yet… Even with all the pain. Even with all the sorrow. You still have such a human heart.

Those silver bells’ giggles echoed through the dark stony walls once more, and Vergil felt a surge of heat as his heart raced in his chest. That voice was too bold to assume something like that, to call him that human. He pinned his feeling as rage, with steps even more certain to find it and make them apologize for such insolence to a future god.

But it wouldn’t be the first time he wrongly labeled his feelings. After all, as he heard humans usually say, the line between hate and love is very thin.

*

“I do not think the ladies will be very satisfied with us.”

You and V sneaked around quietly, while you held his hand and guided the way, hiding in the shadows of a large corridor. A place like that was dangerous: if any of the cultists appeared, there were very little places to hide or to try to run in order to stay incognito.

Still, V found a way to quietly whisper so only you could hear him.

“Well, it’s been a night filled with dissatisfaction for all of us, I’d say.” You murmured back, hearing him quietly giggle behind you. “We currently have the gift of ‘no-one-knows-we’re-roaming-around’. They’ll see this is the best strategy.”

And it was, at least for the moment. You and V had quite the advantage with the cult not knowing you were around the castle – and you were alive, out of all things – and it was the best chance you had of saving Vergil.

As if on cue, though, two cultists appeared at the end of the corridor, making their security round. You and V looked at each other, startled, and he simply took one of his fingers to his lips, signaling for you to be quiet, holding your hand tighter and leading you somewhere where the shadow was thicker. A dark mist slowly enveloped you both, dancing around your feet and knees, keeping you secure in the shadow – you had forgotten that, even with his condition, V was a master in arcane knowledge.

“Valette said the ceremony will be on time, at 3.” One of the men told the other, as you and V listened attentively. Your heart started racing, though: you thought you had more time. If they were talking about 3 a.m., the clock would hit that time sooner rather than later and none of you had a plan. You were just going along, but, right now, that wasn’t enough. “He was successful in making the Son of Sparda see the truth in our ways.”

“He will be a powerful god. The one we deserve.” The other man agreed, both calmly strolling through the castle. “All these years in hiding finally paid off. I hope the summoning and the ascension goes smoothly.”

“They will. All is planned and accounted for. He will slay the demon and absorb its power, rising from King to God.” The man spoke with such certainty and reverence, it sent a shiver down your spine. “I just… It’s a lot to prepare in the ballroom. Everything should be on time.”

“You said it yourself, it will be. We just have to wait a little longer.” The other man checked a pocket-watch, pointing at a nearby passage. “Maybe we should gather with the others already.”

“Hmmm. You are right. After you, please.”

You waited in the darkness alongside V, nervously holding his hand. He noticed how your grip got tighter, and how your hand trembled in his, making him slowly start caressing you in return. Quietly, he tried to reassure you, as if saying everything would be alright, while your heart seemed to want to jump out of your chest.

After a few long minutes – when you were sure the men wouldn’t hear you – you turned around to face V, immediately resting your hands on his chest and looking into his eyes.

“We have to make a plan. We have to think of something, fast. If we don’t… If we don’t, V, they’re gonna turn you into… Into… Something, I don’t know. We have to think. Think!” You usually did your best to keep yourself calm and cool. The crew almost never saw you nervous or anxious, as you always showed up with the certainty you could do your job and no one could defeat you.

The only one who had seen you like that before, was Vergil.

“Calm down, my love. We will think of something.” His voice was the usual velvety tone he wore whenever trying to calm your anxieties – but V had to be honest with himself: you had to find an answer, quick, or things could turn worse.

As in, you would all have to call Dante to defeat Vergil once more, worse.

All your thoughts, though, were interrupted by a white cat – which seemingly appeared out of nowhere, meowing and looking at you and V with big, strange eyes; waiting for you in the middle of the corridor, looking back as if actually calling your attention. It looked like it was almost flickering, as if it would disappear in mist if it moved too fast.

“A… Ghost cat…?” You raised one eyebrow, as the creature meowed once again, almost as if laughing at you. Now that you were half in the spirit world, you could feel it wasn’t exactly a living thing – it was more attuned to death than anything else. Looking at that simple cat sent a shiver down your spine, but it looked like it didn’t mean any harm.

“No. It feels… Ancient.” V’s answer sounded like an ominous warning rather than anything else. When it came to arcane things, you always listened carefully to what he – or Vergil – had to say. You were very knowledgeable, yes, but one of the greatest displays knowledge was realizing when you were limited or actually ignorant in a certain subject. When it came to arcane things, you still had a lot to learn from your lover.

The cat meowed once more, starting to walk down the corridor, as if its very own shape was following it as a fleeting image. You frowned as it looked back at both of you, waiting.

“I think it wants us to follow it.” And, as you spoke, the cat blinked slowly before meowing again, making you positive it understood you – and it was guiding you.

“Hmmm. We do need a path…” V murmured, taking your hand in his and starting to follow the steps of the ghostly cat. “I say we thread carefully, for such a creature might be tricky as the world itself.”

The cat started walking again, meowing happily, almost as if agreeing with V’s words and getting you two to follow them.

“Well. I do find tricksters easier to deal with than most humans.” You mumbled back, now winning a quick, slight laugh from both V and the cat.

At least your humor was appreciated in the demonic realm.

*

Opening a door, you found yourself in a place where it seemed to be used like an attic – only eerily empty, with just one tall piece of furniture on the corner of the room, covered by a dusty rag that was once white. The cat was nowhere to be seen, having disappeared as soon as it entered the room – you figured the creature probably vanished through the window, or did the old demonic trick of disappearing into thin air.

Approaching the piece of furniture with caution, you lead the way while V followed you closely, letting go of your hand so you could pull the piece of cloth down – revealing an ancient mirror, cracked, stained and with the reflection fuzzy in some places.

What startled you, though, was the fact that V was nowhere to be seen on it: the only reflected image was you – staring back at the real you, intently… And suddenly, smiling. Were you smiling? You didn’t think so.

Glancing back at V, you could see he was still there, frowning to the mirror and the lack of his reflection. You turned your attention back at it only to find yourself even closer, with now a more obvious, and mischievous, smile spreading over your lips. That image made you furrow your brows, considering stepping back as it was probably too close for you to feel comfortable. Its eyes were different than yours – as if filled with something older than all the demons you had ever confronted… Something as old as Death. A shiver slowly dragged itself like a piece of ice down your spine as you stared into those eyes – now filled with amusement and curiousness, as if you were a mere animal in a zoo for it to study and watch. You had no idea what you were dealing with, but you were certain it was a lot more dangerous than anything you had encountered so far.

And that was saying a lot.

“By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes. Open, locks, whoever knocks*.” Your image recited, moving independently than you, still on the other side of the mirror.

“You are not a secret, black, midnight hag.” You answered, knowing quite well how the text went. You stared back at your reflection with careful eyes and a guarded heart – holding Yamato tight in your hands while you tried to figure out the creature’s intent. If it was malicious, you’d be ready to cut that mirror into a thousand little pieces with your lover’s sword.

“Careful. This is no ordinary creature you’re dealing with…” You felt V behind you, closer, speaking near your ear with his whispered voice – you couldn’t see in the reflection, but he had his eyes glued on the mirror, ready to fight and protect you with all his might if he needed. He could sense it was something more… Something that might be too much, even for the two of you. “It is ancient, hungry and lethal far beyond this dimension and reality.”

“Ah, your most regal ruler and beloved human half of the King of the Underworld. I am pleased to see you both.” Your reflection laughed at the flattery of being called a midnight hag, quite pleased you understood its reference. Looking at the sword in your hands, it bowed slightly with your head, having a soft, almost reminiscent look in those eyes you couldn’t quite call yours. “Yamato, old friend, it is good to see you as well. You’re even stronger than when Sparda held you all those decades ago.”

You couldn’t see it, but the creature could – and it made it smile: you and V frowned at the same time, as V rested his hand on one of your shoulders; a touch that was both a protection and a warning. Was that creature, that uncanny copy of you, an acquaintance of Sparda…?

“What are you?” The question left your lips out loud, but it translated well what you and your lover were thinking. The creature turned its eyes back to yours, now with some amusement in them.

“I’m simply a demonic being trapped here because that idiot Valette double crossed me.” It let out a huff, and you weren’t quite sure if it was a good thing for it to be displeased. “So, all is fair in war, let’s you and I make a deal. I have no need for your soul. I want that traitor.”

As the anger in its voice grew, the mirror suddenly cracked – and another appearance showed for a while: a myriad of eyes, all shapes and sizes, with pupils fine as slits and glowing in blood red. You almost took a step back, if V’s firm hand hadn’t held you in place: if there was one thing he had learned in Hell, was to never show weakness; fear being the greatest of weaknesses. Vergil always reminded you to stand your ground, and now it appeared that was a trait he also shared with V.

After a few seconds, though, the creature managed to pull itself together again, your reflection appearing once more and the eyes nowhere to be seen. Your image in the mirror looked back at you with a sigh, and a nonchalant wave of its hand.

“Apologies… Stupid prison.” Gesturing to the mirror and the cracks, you could see it was soon going to fall apart – and, not knowing what or how it was trapped in there, you figured the mirror breaking in thousands of pieces was not a good prospect.

“So… How do I assist you?”

“Quite simple, really. That idiot doesn’t realize that the sigil he’s drawn is a summoning one, not specific: it just opens up the pathway for any demon to come through.” With your question, the creature’s eyes burned with excitement once again – perhaps in noticing it had a decent chance of escaping that lonely prison. “I just need you to change one of the sigils, so that I manifest instead to reap the benefits of the real dangers of imprisoning and double crossing me.”

As it opened a wide smile, you narrowed your eyes. You never knew your own image could be so… Haunting.

“And what do you want in return?”

“Valette is mine and the eldest son is yours.” Your reflection waved casually at V, referencing Vergil. You could breathe a little more calmly now, knowing it had no interest in him. Apparently.

“There are other humans there.” You frowned once again. Granted, they were all servants of the Order of the Sword, and you would kill them if they tried to kill you. But you still had a moral code of at least trying to make them see the error of their ways and redeem themselves.

After all, you were Vergil’s lover, for crying out loud. If you out of all humanity didn’t believe in redemption, then all hope was lost.

“I care not for them, but I can let some chaos happen.” The reflection giggled slightly, with mischief in its eyes, turning its head back towards the place where you and V came from. “A demoness and a human are trying to break out. Hmmm, they might prove useful.” With a moment of consideration, your image looked back at you. “But here’s my sigil. Only use it twice.”

Using two fingers, the creature drew on the mirror’s surface a sigil, easy to remember. You had seen it countless times while deep in your arcane studies and research, an image that usually represented the goddess Hekate: a round moon in the middle with a half moon to the right and a half moon to the left; the creature, though, struck it with a line in the middle, cutting it in half horizontally, and drew a diamond shape around it, like a frame.

You had it engrained in your memory and it would be easy to remember and use, when the time came. There was just one question left in your mind…

“Why only twice…?” This time, though, you looked back at V – who still had his hand firmly, but gently, placed on your shoulder.

And he quietly glared you back, with a couple of eyes that carried both a plea and a scolding, almost as if telling you ‘it is better if we don’t find out, my beloved’.

“For his regal highness’ human half, a vital star imbued with some demonic properties is in the small chest tucked behind this mirror. It has gold ornate stars on it.” The creature continued as if you hadn’t asked anything, or simply refused to answer, as if it hadn’t heard your question. You decided to go with the plea in V’s eyes, and not find out why. “I managed to stash one away before being sealed here, but it may be more useful for you to stay together a bit longer. Good luck.”

“Wait…!” You reached out to the mirror in a reflex, almost as if wanting to hold the creature – even if you couldn’t touch it. Your reflection looked back at you with curiosity in its uncanny eyes. “Look. Yes, we can do a lot, yes I have the Yamato, but as far as V told me, I’m kinda half-spirited-away, if that makes any sense. Even with a vital star, V’s still growing weaker by the moment if he doesn’t reunite with his other part, and even when Vergil comes back, he will be weak. Trish and Lady are trying to escape, but I don’t think they will be able to do much without their weapons and with the power suppressants. My point is: things aren’t looking good to us. We don’t really know what to do, and we need to think of something. I will help you, but, honestly, we’re still trying to figure out how to help ourselves first.”

“Oh. But you already have an answer.” Those smart, mischievous eyes now looked back at V with a knowing smirk, making you immediately furrow your brows in confusion, looking back at him. If he had an answer all this time, then why didn’t he tell you? “His blood harbors the power, and it can be taken… Or given. How you take and use it, is your choice, little one.”

With those words, the creature disappeared completely, and all you saw was the reflection of a cat slowly walking away through the door – disappearing as soon as its paws left the room; as if it was all just a haunted dream during a restless night, with the door softly clicking closed.

“What… What did the creature mean…?” You turned around to V, who now walked away to slowly pace around the room, holding his silver cane to his back. “V. What was that all about?”

“I… I…” V sighed, closing his eyes in defeat and turning back to you, leaning his cane on the floor. You could already see his skin starting to crack, and his body would soon start to shed and fade away. That vital star would only postpone the inevitable, but it would buy enough time to get him back to his whole self. “I do not consider this an option. Doing what that ancient demon has suggested, would imply you giving up your most precious thing. Your humanity.”

He didn’t even allow you to interrupt him before he said those words. Holding Yamato tighter, now you understood why your lover insisted on having it around all the times: it was, indeed, soothing to the heart.

“Ok, V, you’re losing me now…” You took a deep breath, trying not to seem too startled by his statement – after all, you were, indeed, confused. “Why would I have to give up my humanity? How would I do that…?”

“When Urizen took his ultimate power, he did so by eating the bloody fruit of a demonic tree.” V explained with the professorial calmness Vergil would have in his tone and mannerisms every time you asked about something he had more knowledge about. Your heart was more at ease upon seeing such a familiar display of the man that you loved. “King of Hell. A title shared by few; and, for it to be shared, it has to be conquered. One can take it, as Urizen did, or one can… Give it. Freely.”

You stared back at him for a while, as if your brain was trying to put together the conversation with the cryptic creature and with your lover – and, when it did, you immediately looked back at V with haunted eyes and mouth slightly open in shock.

“You mean… You could pass part of the title… To me?!”

“And, most importantly, the power. No one in that room will be able to defeat you.” V sighed, leaning more on his cane and running his free hand through his hair, as if all that conversation was extremely energy draining. “Given they have all the intentions to summon a high-rank demon, which could be another one by the title of King, for my whole counterpart to defeat and ascend to godhood, only someone with the same power would be able to defeat it. Dante is not here, same as Nero, and we cannot call them for help. You, Lady and Trish are excellent devil hunters, but it will not be enough. If I was…” V now huffed, looking away. You could see how annoyed he was, bordering angry. There was something of Vergil in there, but in V, his emotions were a lot more obvious – and his anger always seemed more to burn like fire than Vergil’s usual ice-cold wrath. “If I was myself; if I was my whole self, I could…!” He shook his head, starting to pace around again, with anxious angry steps that you could swear would soon make him trip on his own feet. “This would not be a problem! I would be able to strike them down with a single wave of my hand and this whole circus would be over. There would be no need for you…!”

“Hey.” You quietly held his free hand, feeling something powdery in his touch. V was starting to fade away, and you had to do something about it quick – after all, you could already clearly see some cracks going up his jaw, almost reaching his cheeks. “Calm down, or you’ll end up hurting yourself. That’s the last thing I want to see.” As your voice was calm, his eyes were like a deer caught in headlights for a moment, immediately looking down as his steps slowly approached you after a few seconds. “We don’t have much of a choice, do we? I don’t mind doing whatever I need to do to save you.”

Your words made his eyes immediately shoot up back at yours, with a vulnerability you would never find in Vergil. He had spent decades in mourning and pain because that was the only thing he had wanted to feel as a child: love and protection. To feel worthy of being saved. And now, there you were, willing to give up your most prized thing to protect him; out of love.

“I… I…” Always so eloquent, now V couldn’t do more than just stuttering – trying to find words to stop you. Even if he knew that would be for nothing.

“Is it forever? This… Power thing? Will I be, hmmm, forever demonic, so to speak…?”

“I… I don’t know.” He had to admit. He knew how things worked for him, a half-demon – but he had no idea how it would work for a human. As far as he was aware, you could die even. “Your body… Might not be able to take it. Or maybe… It will take it well. Humans have turned before: Arkham, Agnus, Sanctus…”

“Credo.” You reminded him, making V furrow his brows once again. “Not all of those who absorbed power turned evil. It’s all in the heart. And you know where mine is.”

“I…” Once again, V started stuttering, shushing himself as soon as he noticed he would begin mumbling nonsense. He looked down at your feet, his heart heavy in his chest. “There isn’t much I can say to persuade you, is there, my little Elizabeth Bennet?”

“I’d say you found yourself someone as headstrong as your own self, Mr. Darcy.” You had to giggle at his remark, causing the same effect in him with your words.

“Then, grant me a wish…” V raised his sea-green eyes back once more, a silent plea inside them. “Let’s wait. Until we find them, until this is our only glimmer of hope. Let’s try to find another way out, and if we can’t…”

“You will let me protect you.”

With your words, V closed his eyes and nodded in agreement – just like his whole self, he couldn’t help trying to hide whenever your words threatened to make him cry; as you softly kissed his eyelids in return, watching a few tears slide down his face.

*Macbeth, by Shakespeare

*

It was almost time for the ceremony. Vergil knew that. And it only vexed him more that he couldn’t find the owner of that voice, whoever it was.

That ghostly figure that kept slipping away, as he only caught slight glimpses of it with his veiled eyes. No matter how much he opened them, how much he sharpened his sight, it always got away. And no matter how much he knew he had other more important things to care for, his heart kept dragging him towards that spectral presence.

It was time to focus, center his mind back in his power. But that occurrence would not let him, would not allow him. His heart would follow it to the end of the world, to death and doom itself, and he had no idea as to why. It caused him a longing that ached in his chest and emptied his soul; and it wasn’t at all logic or connected to his demonic might.

He grumbled to himself, huffing in the shadows of the castle, alone. Damned human heart. Soon, he would be rid of it, however…

However.

Did he really want to rid himself of his human half…?

Looking down at his hands, nails elongated in claws and extremities tinged in blue, Vergil was very aware of his current situation. He could feel the fangs in his teeth, the scales lightly protecting his most vital parts. He was halfway through his devil trigger, but he did not remember why.

Placing his free hand on his stomach, Vergil could feel the wound that hadn’t healed yet. The only weapon that could cause him such damage would be the Yamato – which meant he did that to himself, to separate his human half from him temporarily. Having come into terms with his demonic half, he was now able to maintain more of himself instead of turning into the one who called himself Urizen, years ago. But why would he do that? Which were the circumstances that led him to separate?

And if he did so, why did his heart keep guiding him towards that presence? If it wasn’t his humanity, his fragility, then it was his own power and demonic heritage who was trapped in that longing.

Who was his demonic half longing for unconsciously…?

Vergil once again huffed in the darkness, following blindly where his heart guided him to search for that specter. If that was the case, he could only conclude Sparda did love Eva… And his foolish brother wasn’t wrong all along.

He was.

I don’t mind doing whatever I need to do to save you, my dear. You just have to see.

Once again, that voice. Vergil could see a slight ghostly figure shimmering right ahead, ready to turn into another corridor… Almost guiding him towards the ballroom. At least he would make it to the ceremony on time and all would go as planned.

“Save me…? What makes you think I need saving?”

I know your heart. Those people want to hurt you, and I am not going to allow that.

“Allow? Who are you to speak such words…?”

You have to find me in your heart. You know who I am. And you know I will never leave you, and I will never let anyone hurt you.

“I am more than capable of fending for myself. I have enough power to do so.”

I know, but when the time comes…

The voice faded in the air, as well as the figure crossing through another door – the entrance to the waiting hall before the ballroom itself. A few of the cultists were gathered as Valette opened a satisfied smile upon seeing Vergil emerging from the dark corridor, still carrying his candelabrum.

“Come, my King. It is time.”

“I shall begin the ceremony when I please.” Vergil’s voice was as sharp as Yamato’s blade itself, making Valette’s smile tremble with disagreement. Some cultists exchanged a few looks, but they all followed as Vergil entered the hall. “I expected you to be ready at the ballroom, not gathered here like a bunch of gossiping buffoons.”

With a few claps from Valette, most of the cultists joined the others at the ball room – already filled with sigils, summoning circles, candles and chanting. The entrance hall had an old, broken chandelier with a couple of candles flickering with a blue flame hanging from the ceiling, while a moth-eaten dark rug covered the floor. Some other candles brightened the room from their own candelabrums, staining the ground with pale wax.

Vergil left his candles on a ruined wooden furniture, walking to the middle of the hall and waiting. Valette and the two Knights who remained – in case he needed some violent back-up – watched him carefully, failing to understand Vergil’s intentions.

He himself did not understand his intentions. Vergil didn’t know what he was doing or what he was waiting for. Something inside his chest stirred, as butterflies seemed to fly inside his stomach, hoping the image would appear once again. He knew there was something wrong with Valette and the ceremony, but he didn’t quite understood what it was. The voice said he was in danger, and Vergil knew he was injured and vulnerable to some extent – after all, he also didn’t know what happened to Yamato. Valette had said Vergil himself asked the sword to be kept safe at the ballroom until it was time for the ceremony to begin, but he had his doubts. He would never part so easily with his own sword.

Something was wrong; and he didn’t know what he was waiting for.

To be loved and protected; to be saved.

He wasn’t weak and pitiful to need saving – he could always save himself. Vergil would drag his wounded body out of Hell by his own sheer will, but he would save himself. He didn’t need anyone.

When the time comes…

Vergil perked up upon hearing that ghostly voice once more, ignoring how Valette and the Knights immediately started looking around, startled. Before he could keep on searching, though, that figure finally materialized in front of him: a pale specter, almost vanishing in the air, with a familiar face and kind, but strong-willed eyes; You.

But… He didn’t know who you were.

You will let me protect you.

Vergil immediately furrowed his brows as you spoke those words, raising your hand to caress his face – freezing him in place. He didn’t need protection, he didn’t need softness and he didn’t need love but… He did.

“You…” Vergil’s voice was but a whisper, as he raised his hand in return to touch your face. “Who are you…?”

As his hand rested upon your cheek, for just a mere second, you closed your eyes and smiled before fading away – room empty as if you were never there.

And, for a brief moment, he felt whole again.

*

“I’m a ghost…!”

That was everything you could comment with V as you watched Vergil follow you relentlessly into the hall.

You and V found your way into the ballroom through the second floor: just like in the room where you previously found the ladies, the ballroom and the hall were surrounded by a mezzanine with long balconies that allowed the moonlight to lit the entire place. When the castle was in its prime, with parties and dresses and feasts and flowers and fancy fans, it must have been a sight to see. Now, it was the stage for a ceremony with the sole purpose of stealing your lover’s soul.

As soon as you had heard his voice down the entrance corridor, you grabbed V’s hand and, hiding in the shadows as you did before, sneaked near the stairs on the entrance hall that could take you to the main floor – to him.

After realizing there was a ghostly version of yourself walking around the castle, seeing Vergil stopping in the middle of the room made you gasp. You wanted to run down the stairs and snap him out of whatever got him trapped: he looked halfway into becoming Urizen, yellowed eyes veiled by a milky mist, his old crown of Qliphoth somehow appearing once again. He wasn’t quite himself, and you could see how much he was struggling to call his own nature back; to break free from whatever it was that had changed him.

A new fear now took ahold of your heart: if Vergil did go through the ceremony and became a god, there was a great possibility he would turn into Urizen, and never return. V would fade into nothing and you would never have Vergil back.

As Vergil tried to touch your face and your ghostly image disappeared, Valette signaled the Knights to close and guard the door of the ballroom – not knowing you were already inside.

“My King. All is ready. We should begin, or the opportunity will be lost.” Valette tried to keep the appeasing smile on his face, taking Vergil’s attention away from whatever had happened. If Valette could distract him enough from his heart, there would be nothing to worry about. “I will start the ceremony. You should follow urgently.”

“Yes. Do so.” Vergil nodded slightly with his head, eyes as sharp as before. Valette had a certainty in his heart that he had already won and no one could interfere with everything he had carefully planned for decades.

As Valette left, Vergil took a deep breath and shook his head. He should focus. Even if he didn’t trust the man, he could dispose of him after the ascension – right now, though, he needed it to achieve ultimate power. That was the sole reason he was there. That was the sole reason he was there…?

“I have to do something. I can’t… I have to.” You moved from the spot you were hiding, feeling V holding you back by your hand. Turning around, you realized he was looking towards the other side of the hall, straight into the ballroom.

If you wanted something out of a horror movie, you had it. The place was lit with innumerous candles and the floor stained with summoning circles and sigils drawn in blood – you hoped it was from the minor demons they had summoned before. Valette was standing on the other end of the ball room, now with a white robe and a red cape down to his feet, covering his head with a hood – the symbols of the Order of the Sword embroidered in golden through the fabric of his clothing. He opened his arms and started reading from an arcane book – with a badly pronunciation of Latin, if you had to say so – and was followed by the chanting of the members of the cult.

You could see them preparing sacrificial tools as a few Knights brought in the victims to summon the high-ranking demon to fight Vergil and complete his ascension.

“Lemme go, you freaking bastard! I’ll kick your ass when I get out of these chains!” Lady was brought in kicking and screaming, as Trish followed her quietly.

“If it weren’t for these damned chains, I’d have electrocuted all of you already.” The she-devil had that typical unforgiveness in her sharp, lavender-blue eyes, walking as a queen sentenced to death.

Both of them were rendered speechless as they saw the situation at hand. It started to weigh in their hearts that maybe, this time, there would be no escape.

“V…” You shook your head, looking back at him with pleading eyes. “V… There’s no hope. I have to do something.”

“I…” But, once again, he had no words for that moment. His hands were once again feeling powdery, and he could feel his legs faltering. When he crumbled, helplessly, quietly, you would be alone. And he could not let that happen. He couldn’t doom you because he didn’t want your humanity to wash away. “It is the heart that matters.”

As he muttered, the ghostly part of yourself materialized with a barely visible form, but carrying a small blade sharp enough to make a cut in V’s lips, staining them with red, making it drip on the floor. You both watched yourself, startled, as you flickered in the eerie blue light of the candles.

The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss a dateless bargain to engrossing death. Your form spoke, smiling back at you, knowing you would understand what it meant to do.

V furrowed his brows, recognizing the verses from Romeo and Juliet, that you loved so much. And, without fail, you understood yourself: you didn’t have time to waste. You had to drink from the same fruit that Urizen drank, and you had to walk in Vergil’s shoes. And you could not stumble in his footsteps.

“I will protect you, no matter what.” As you said those words, your ghostly figure disappeared with a satisfied smile, while V looked back into the resolute fire in your eyes. There were no words he could say to stop you, even though his eyes carried the statement that you had already done that. “Thus, with a kiss, I die.”

You pulled V to a kiss, making him flinch at first upon being caught by surprise, but melting into your lips right at the next second – his hands resting on your arms, caressing them as you sealed your fate. You could feel something returning to you, as well as something coming and something going. You couldn’t really tell what it was, but the metallic taste of blood in your lips made you sure something changed within yourself. Yamato burned in your hands, and there was a steel resolve inside of you that could never be moved; the blade crackled with extra energy as you felt the adrenaline kicking in.

Parting from the kiss, you opened your eyes to see V’s sea-green eyes watching you with a certain wistfulness, even though he had a smile on his slightly bloody lips; his hands resting now at each side of your face.

“Do I already look like a chicken like Agnus?” Your words made him giggle, even if you could see his eyes briefly laminated with tears.

“No, my love…” V’s voice was smooth like velvet, as he gently took a strand of hair away from your face. “You look like royalty.”

*

It was almost time. Vergil could feel the floor lightly rumbling under his feet, as if the earth herself was breathing, moving, roaring. He couldn’t see Yamato anywhere and he wondered how he would defeat the demon to be summoned for his ascension – but, most importantly, where his trusted sword was.

All his questions came to a halt as something else caught his attention: you, going down the stairs, with the Yamato in your hands. This time, though, your figure wasn’t a ghostly one – you were bright as the moonlight, real, right there in front of him.

“Vergil, what did they do to you…?” As you asked, as worried as you were, you approached slowly, keeping your voice down. His eyes had the same veiled look of when he was having one of his vivid nightmares or night terrors from his time under Mundus – and you knew the best thing was to approach with caution and care.

“Who are you?” His question was sharp, demanding… And a tad bit desperate – at least, that was how V felt in his heart. While you could only guess, he knew: Vergil couldn’t remember you, but his heart could. And that was agonizing him. “Tell me right at this instant and stop with your little charades.”

“They must’ve done something awful for you to forget me. At least, that’s what I’d like to believe…”

“They did.” V immediately completed your thoughts, not allowing you any doubts that he loved you. He remained by the foot of the stairs, while you still approached Vergil – slowly but surely. “It wouldn’t be easy to make me forget you. My heart; his heart hasn’t forgotten. Or else, he wouldn’t have followed you.”

“Why can’t you just speak…?!” Vergil rolled his eyes while everything in himself was restless: the ceremony would soon come to its peak and he had to be ready. He had no time to argue with a strange couple who apparently had his sword.

And still.

“It won’t work.” You whispered back, as close to him as you could, offering Vergil your hand. He furrowed his brows, flinching for a moment if he should hold it or not – looking into your eyes; eyes that mirrored his own so well. “You have to know.”

You wouldn’t fight him. Beating down Vergil into submission wouldn’t bring him back – it would only make him angrier. You would wake his wrath and lose him forever in his demonic heritage if you did so; but you could reach out to him in his other part. Not necessarily his human part, but the part in Vergil that held those feelings of love, care and vulnerability. The part he never showed anyone and was slowly growing more comfortable in showing to you. The part that wanted to be caressed, kissed and cradled; loved without restraints and with might. The part he would never admit out loud that existed – the one that had that longing void in his chest, that made him follow you even with a restrained will and bound soul.

Vergil placed his hand in yours, and you carefully moved it to your waist, placing it there as you then landed your hand on his shoulder. He had a puzzled look as your hand that held Yamato offered to hold his free hand – and you were set in a perfect position for a waltz.

You started humming a tune – somewhat sad, but fondly familiar – one that you and him adored dancing together.

“I don’t…” Vergil was about to say he didn’t dance – and that he had never danced waltz… If he didn’t count the days he would try to lead Eva and she would spin around the living room with him, teaching his little feet how to lead in such a beautiful dance. But as the waltz went on, he started slowly swaying from side to side, almost still immobile.

“Close your eyes.”

Vergil wasn’t one to obey, but, for some reason he did not understand, he did obey you. He closed his eyes, noticing how easier it was to allow his feet to move – to float through the floor, as if he had done it countless times. In his mind, he could hear the full orchestrated song, the violins singing that wistful melody, as his hands caressed you, remembering the softness of your skin, the melody of your voice – the sound of your name.

He pulled you closer, now fully guiding you through the hall, spinning around in a Viennese waltz. He had nothing to fear when you were around, especially when it came to his human heart. Vergil didn’t have to fear vulnerability, weakness and despair – and he could long for love, care and even… Protection. How, how could his heart ever forget you? His memory could wipe every moment you lived together, but his soul remembered every feeling, every fondness, every joy and every sadness he had felt by your side.

Mundus’ spell couldn’t keep him locked down in heavy chains once – it wouldn’t be able to do it this time as well.

As Vergil opened his eyes, you could watch the veil fighting to stay in place, as his will came back to his silvery sight. With the hand around your waist, he pulled you close to a kiss – with that slight taste of metal, but as soft as his heart was sure it would be.

He parted as his steps came to a halt and Vergil held you in his arms – leaning in, crumbling with the violent waves of his bindings being broken; with the certainty that you would hold him in place, right on his feet. As he managed to stabilize again, you tried another look, having him pull away slightly so he could see your face.

“I know.” And, as you looked into his eyes, you saw that silvery gaze filled with pride, strength and care, that you learned to love so much – a realization that spread a smile across your lips. “I know you.”

“I’m glad you do.” Your answer was but a whisper, having a smile in your lips – which Vergil mirrored in no time. He knew what was done to make him forget you; and to say Valette had incurred in his wrath was an understatement.

“We have to stop this nonsense.” Vergil was about to step away, already taking the Yamato from your hands, when his knees faltered and he had to come to a halt, closing his eyes. You had your hands around him, ready to keep him steady if he needed to.

“We cannot do much at this hour, I’m afraid.” V approached casually, and you could see as he was slowly disappearing – like a ghost who was never supposed to be around. There was a certain sadness in his sea-green eyes… And you couldn’t stop your heart from aching upon knowing what would come next. “Our only hope now, is our darling beloved. I hope to see you again soon, my love.”

As he spoke, you smiled back at him, nodding along while mouthing a goodbye – watching as V stopped right by Vergil and closed his eyes, keeping your image in his memory, while his form disappeared as if a wind took him away, back into his whole self. Soon, there was no vestige that he had ever been there – and you felt a bittersweet weight in your heart, even though you knew you would probably see him again.

Vergil took a deep breath, his appearance slowly going back to his normal, human self. When he opened his eyes, it was as if nothing had ever happened, and you all had just been trapped for a while in a gothic nightmare. He could, though, still feel the wound from the Yamato: as expected, it was the hardest one to fully heal.

“As much as I loathe to admit…” He let out a sigh, his silvery eyes filled with disapproval – not for you, but for himself. “V is right. I will fight, but I’m not in a position to do it well.”

“You don’t have to worry, love. Don’t you have V’s memories…?” You asked back with a giggle, placing a quick kiss on his lips before turning to the great hall where the horrible ceremony was taking place. “I’m the one wearing your shoes now. We’re safe.”

Vergil furrowed his brows while following you – finding it even stranger when you signaled him to stay behind you while unsheathing his trusted blade. V’s memories of that night, though, came back in a wave of feelings, images, words and kisses – from your peaceful slumber in a forgotten garden, to your bloodied kiss at the top of the stairs.

“And now… With this blade…!” You walked in together as Valette raised a sharp athame above his head, showing it to his congregation, who watched in silence and awe. Trish and Lady were bound on different sides of the great sigil drawn with blood on the floor, trying to break their chains to no avail. “I shall shed pure demonic and pure human blood, bringing forth one of the Kings of Hell – to fight our King so that he can finally ascend to godhood, claiming his birthright on this land!”

“Whatever you do, love…” Vergil’s voice was a whisper behind you, close to your ear, your very own devil in your shoulder. “Make sure to cut out his filthy tongue.”

You let a smile spread through your lips. Most people despised, and even feared, Vergil’s ruthlessness… But you had to admit: it was one of the things that, given the right situation, you mirrored and even loved.

“Yamato… We have work to do.” As you murmured in a response, you felt the blade tingling in your hands, as you charged one of its attacks to cut down the great chandelier in the middle of the room.

It was an effective entrance: it fell right between Lady and Trish, crashing into a million crystals of broken glass and molten wax, candles rolling through the floor, smearing the summoning circle and drawing attention to you and Vergil at the entrance of the ballroom – with him standing behind you, as your very own guardian devil.

“Now, now, Valette. It’s time to pay your dues.” You raised your voice as the whole congregation stared at you – especially its leader, who had widened, shocked eyes in all that mess. “When playing cards, you should know a King is worth more than a Jack… Valette.”

The man’s wrathful reaction, though, was nothing when you could hear Vergil’s dark giggle behind yourself. You knew he would love that quip, probably having even thought of that himself but he didn’t have the chance to use it while having his mind bound and under control.

“Kill this, this… This wretched human!” Valette pointed at you in a fit of rage. “Save our King! Our ceremony will not be stopped, and he will ascend! It’s his destiny! His birthright! You cannot stop…!”

“Shut your mouth!” The scream came from Vergil right behind you, though, as you got into a position to fight: the many members of the Order were now bound on coming after you and, even if they were human, you would kill them. They had threatened your family, and now they would face the consequences. “You know nothing of birthright!”

As you defended a first attack, you were soon surrounded by five men, hellbent on killing you and taking their King back. You, though, were hellbent on having Vergil safe – being enough to wield Yamato with certainty and quickly fight them back.

As more and more men surrounded you, Valette fumbled around the main altar with a few of his minions to get things as back in place as they could and resume the ceremony. If you wanted to stop it, you would have to reach him and fulfill Vergil’s desire to cut his tongue out.

Fighting off the members of the Order, you soon realized why they had summoned so many lesser demons before: cutting through their skin in a mortal wound, you could see it glowing in eerie blue – something definitely nonhuman.

“It seems like we’re surrounded by demons. All the better, then.” Vergil was still behind you, leaning closer as you finished another attack and fell back to prepare yourself for the next wave. It seemed that the Order kept their routine of summoning demons and using their souls to become ‘angels’. “Do not hold back.”

With those words, you felt a strange, different tingling running through your arms and reaching the tips of your fingers. Your vision seemed to become sharper and it appeared that your physical strength was now enhanced. As you attacked, faster than ever, you saw a volley of blue summoned swords piercing through the enemies you couldn’t hit – Vergil still using his power to fight, after all, even if that would drain him.

Clearing a few more enemies, you quickly glanced at Valette, seeing how he was about to finish recovering the sigil and resuming the ceremony as you were busy with the fight. Remembering the request from the strange creature in the mirror, you glanced back at Vergil.

“I need to do something. Can you give me cover?”

His answer wasn’t in words, but in actions – as Vergil usually did. His summoned swords kept you away from harm, and you finally had the chance to carve that creature’s sigil on the stony floor. Using Yamato, the sharp sword made it easy for you to quickly draw it in stone – and you hoped that would be enough to stop all that madness, whatever was the creature you were summoning.

“No hope for your party sorcery!” Valette screamed back, while the bloody sigil started glowing in red. You looked around with your heart on your throat, fearing you had failed to save Trish and Lady – but you found them still alive, as confused and terrified as you were, with the sigil glowing under their feet. Looking back at Valette, you saw a lesser demon dead on the floor, alongside one of his followers: the demonic and the human blood was shed; even if it wasn’t the ones he originally wanted to pour. “The ceremony shall continue! Our GOD shall RISE!”

“Can you help Lady and Trish?” You turned around to Vergil, finding him frowning with your request. “I regret to inform you, I do have your powers know. If it takes a King to stop a King, well then, the King who’ll do the stopping is right here. Not the one Valette wanted, and I’ll definitely send everyone back to Hell.”

“Don’t overwork yourself. You might…” Vergil’s words got caught in his throat as the floor trembled and the portal slowly opened, with Valette’s maniacal laugh echoing through the ball room. “You might not come back.”

With those words, Vergil left a quick kiss on the top of your head, already running towards Lady, the closest of the potential sacrifice victims. You took a deep breath, turning around to face whatever demon it was that you had to: you knew what he meant with those words. He had forsaken his humanity once to survive and protect himself… Fighting an opponent a lot stronger than yourself, you might have to do the very same. The only difference was that you were entirely human – if you lost your humanity, you would never come back.

“Hey, what’s going on?! Why is it you coming over and not y/n…?!” Lady immediately started questioning as Vergil approached – as weak as he was, he was still able to break her shackles with his bare hands.

And Lady was horrified to be saved by him, out of all people.

“Y/n is unavailable at the moment.” Vergil’s answer was quiet, as you approached the opening portal, already seeing the form of a large demon creeping up. “Can you set Trish free?”

“I could, if those losers hadn’t taken my guns!” Lady tried to scream over the noise, in the hopes Valette would listen – she would fistfight him to have her guns back if she needed to. “You’re the witch from the group, time to do your witching!”

Vergil didn’t answer – but he did grab Lady to drag her away from where they were standing as one of the stones from the ceiling crumbled and was about to hit her, fatally. He guided her to walk in front of him, as he surrounded them both with summoned swords in order to cross the ballroom to save Trish.

Lady frowned the whole way, annoyed by the fact that Vergil was indeed better than she expected – in his own way.

“C’mon, it’s showtime…” You whispered to yourself, bending your knees and holding Yamato close to your waist, in a typical attack position your lover had taught you. All those ruthless fighting lessons would be put to test – and you were a little thankful Vergil never did go easy on you.

Two giant, marble looking hooves stepped out of the portal, making you step back as the creature pulled itself out. An armored horse, twice the size of an earthly one, galloped outside carrying a demon on its back: one that made your skin crawl as your gaze turned serious. Looking like a large, tall knight, it was entirely made of armor, but had the same marble look of its mount. It circled the room a couple of times, carrying a long, pristine white sword in its hands – hacking what was left of the chandelier in pieces, it slowed its steps in the middle, coming to a halt and lowering its sword… Laying those glowing red eyes on you; face as expressionless as a statue.

Your hand was sweating around Yamato’s hilt and your heart racing inside your chest, while your face didn’t betray your feelings. That demon, that King, was eerily similar to Mundus and the Angelos.

“Oh, my… Of all the cats that could come out of the bag…” Trish’s comment was silent, careful, her lavender blue eyes stuck to the figure while Vergil broke her shackles. “Chevalier.”

“You know him?” As Lady asked, both Trish and Vergil nodded in confirmation. “You too?! Is he like…”

“An Angelo? No.” Vergil could quickly understand her train of thought, because he was sure it would be yours as well. It was a striking resemblance. “Angelos have to be created somehow. And they need a master: Chevalier, the Knight-King of Hell.”

“You are not human.” Chevalier’s voice was like a rumble that echoed through the ground and somehow got to your ears, as his face didn’t move a centimeter – just like Mundus. “Except… You are.”

“Quite the mystery, huh? A walking contradiction, as I like to call myself.” You answered with your head held high, as true royalty should behave. After all, you were also King now, and you shouldn’t bow to another one with your same title. “Go back to the depths of Hell and I will let you leave in peace.”

The same rumble ran through your feet towards your heart, as something you could only conclude was a laugh.

“Bold claims for a fragile body… Little creature.” Chevalier adjusted the grip on his sword, his horse ready to charge in.

“Oh, I’m royalty. And you shall treat me as such.” You growled, back in your attack position.

“That is not your adversary…! That is not…!” Valette tried screaming at the back of his altar, watching in despair as Chevalier charged in and you quickly unsheathed the Yamato to parry his attack in a devastating blow, that sent you and the demonic Knight-King flying in opposite directions. “This is…! This is wrong…! It’s a nightmare!”

“Oh, I’m getting that bitch…!” Before Lady could make her way towards Valette, though, Vergil held her back with just one adamant grip from his hand – nothing that hurt, but strong enough to make her stop on her tracks and look at him with a death glare in her bicolored eyes.

“We are not the only players in this game.” Vergil nodded towards the sigil you carved on the floor – slowly, but surely, developing a dark glow of its own; completely ignoring the fight going on between you and Chevalier on top of it. “Something else wants Valette. We shouldn’t interfere.”

“What else…?” Trish frowned, glancing Vergil – but he decided not to say anything, for he didn’t have an answer. The creature in the mirror was probably taking its time to break out of its own prison – and when it did, it would have no mercy.

His attention quickly went back to you, though, as one of Chevalier’s blows made you stumble back, with blood coming down from a cut in your lip. Vergil’s blood boiled, but there was nothing he could do: at the moment, he was as weak as his human counterpart. Signaling to the ladies, though, they made their way to a position behind you – where Vergil could try some summoned swords, in case you needed them.

“You fight well for a human… Too well.” Chevalier considered, shaking his sword as if he was just warming up. You got back into a fighting position, focusing your mind back in the fight. You had learned to focus with Vergil: all your attention should be on your opponent and anything else. “You fight like someone else. Another King, from what I’ve heard.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” You sneered back, feeling a different tingle in your legs. Launching forward, for the first time in your life, you were able to dash like Vergil did – too quick, almost stumbling as you stopped right in front of Chevalier.

Taken by surprise with your move, you managed to land a blow that made the horse give a few steps back – while Valette screamed in terror and ran away for cover, as it threatened to fall over him and some of his minions hidden around their master. Chevalier replied with a powerful move, only to have you quickly dash away from his marble sword. The demon slowly turned its head towards you, summoning a few lightning attacks from underground.

You had to use your newfound dashing ability to dodge all the summoned lightning – having to rely not on your mind nor your emotions, but your instinct. It was something Vergil always tried to teach you, but you feared that was exclusive to his half-human condition. Now that you had his blood running through your veins, you knew what he meant: it was something different, like an animalistic survival instinct that came from your gut; not your heart, nor your mind. You had to rely on that to be quick enough, stopping at a safer distance with your back towards Chevalier – making sure Vergil, Lady and Trish were safe.

“What… Happened?!” Lady had to ask.

Vergil was right to ask you not to overwork yourself – you were already starting to look different. You wouldn’t trigger, for there was no demonic part in you – or, at least, he thought you wouldn’t – but you did have access to the same things he did. Your eyes were now glinting with a ghostly blue light, your teeth almost starting to look like fangs. You also carried that aura, his gloomy demeanor that made lesser demons question their own guts.

As Chevalier tried to attack with you still facing them, you quickly unsheathed Yamato once again, to parry and follow up with a quicky attack, making the demon stumble back. You took a deep breath, focusing once more, having your eyes busy with Chevalier and ignoring anything else around you – barely noticing how cold your hands were getting, and how your fingers seemed to glint with a light blue ghostly aura.

With another powerful quick attack, you finally broke Chevalier’s armor, making the demon bleed. The red blood started to pour down his white body, sprinkling on the floor as Valette screamed in a doomed lament – you weren’t supposed to be killing that demon. It was all going wrong.

“What is your name, creature…?” Chevalier raised his head, considering the damage of the blow he had just endured. It was Yamato, and it would certainly crack his armor little by little, not something he would expect from the likes of you.

“Y/n. You better remember it next time we see each other; if I let you live today.” Your answer was arrogant, as you quickly charged towards the knight. Using a string of quick void cuts around the creature so he would have no place to dodge, you used a powerful combo of slashes Vergil had once taught you, but you had never really been quick enough – or powerful enough – to use it.

The more blood poured on the floor, the more the sigil from the creature trapped in the mirrors started to glow – as if it was gaining strength, coming back to life. You weren’t able to notice it, but soon it would finish summoning whatever it was that asked for your aid.

Chevalier managed to block your attacks, putting an end to your onslaught of slashes as you swiftly glided back on the floor. Burying his sword on the ground, another rumble brought a few things from the ever closing portal near the horse’s hooves: pieces of metal, quickly finding their new hosts on the corpses of the members of the Order who hadn’t ran away, adhering to their heads like helmets… Like Angelo helmets.

The last thing you needed was an army of Angelos chasing you around like Vergil’s personal nightmare. You didn’t have to look back to know what he was feeling – you had his blood in yourself, you could feel it too; and it was a deep dread with a few hints of terror. As if his past would never let him have some peace.

You knew he didn’t want you to overexert yourself, but, in all honesty, Vergil wasn’t used to be the one being protected. Perhaps he didn’t have to go great lengths to protect you, but when his demons were actual creatures from Hell, there wasn’t much you could do without giving it all – and sometimes even more.

You knew what you had to do. Closing your eyes, you put Yamato back in its sheathe and took a deep breath, calming your heart and your mind. You would need your instinct, your focus and every energy you had left for a perfect judgement cut end – one that, if done right, would slay everything in sight.

For the first time while you got in that position, you felt something different. Like a tingling at the base of your feet, going up your legs, jolting through your spine as you harnessed… Whatever it was. A few glints of that ghostly blue surrounded you, as you gathered the energy you needed, still with your eyes closed and mind focused on the one and only thing you had to do. Valette finally stopped his doomed screaming, watching in awe as you did something he believed only the blood of Sparda could do.

“Slay all.” Your statement was a whisper to the sword in your hands as you finally opened your eyes – now glowing entirely in light, pool blue.

You could barely feel your body as you moved faster than light to kill every single creature in your way, slashing the helmets in half and putting them down to eternal rest. On Chevalier, you aimed at his chest, where a human heart would be – hoping that would be enough to considerably wound him or even kill the demon.

Resting with your knees on the floor, you put Yamato back in its sheathe, only to let all hell break loose when it finally clicked back into safety. All the Angelos broke apart and didn’t even have a chance to rise, as Chevalier’s chest gushed blood on the stony floor. Valette watched in awe, as Vergil raised his head in a mix of pride and concern.

He was worried your human body would not be able to take much more of that… But he was proud to watch his lover defeating a King of Hell. And one like Chevalier, even.

As he tried to remain on his horse, Chevalier’s glowing red eyes found your cold blue ones, shimmering in the dark just like one of his own. He had clearly underestimated you, but still thought he could win… Until the ballroom started getting increasingly cold – enough to make the glasses blur on the windows, the temperature dropped as the seconds went by.

And a familiar shiver ran up Chevalier’s spine. Something was approaching, and it clearly was one of your allies. He did underestimate both your power and your connections and, if he remained, he would have to pay for his foolishness.

“A Knight should know when to retreat.” Chevalier nodded ever so slightly with his expressionless head, turning back to the portal. “This is not over… King.”

You furrowed your brows as the creature returned to Hell, having the last vestiges of the opened portal disappear in a flicker of red light, leaving only the initial blood from the sigil on the stony floor as evidence for what had happened.

Looking back over your shoulders, you found the mirror creature’s sigil on the floor – glowing, already calling its master… But missing just one little detail. Vergil was already walking towards you – used to your body giving out after pulling a judgement cut end, he was already waiting for the worst, given the magnitude of the one you just did. Even so, you ran towards the sigil, while Valette left his hiding spot with what was left from his followers.

“You… Won. You won! The ascension… We shall be able to complete it!! As it was planned all along!” The man had nothing but deranged devotion in his eyes, and you knew little could be done to stop him.

As Vergil met you near the sigil, being closely followed by Trish and Lady, you unsheathed the Yamato and decided to finish your work before he could even try to have you stop and rest. Valette was already picking up his occultism book to end the ceremony – and you would be damned if your body decided to shut down without properly protecting your lover from certain doom.

As Yamato’s blade carved the last line of the sigil, the room chilled instantly – even more than before. You backed up and kept Vergil behind you, preparing to strike. The sigil on the floor changed and suddenly was allowing black mist to slowly bleed out into the room. Keeping Yamato out in front, the mist soon became more solid, darker, and the feeling of being watched made the hairs on the back of your neck and arms stand up.

Everything screamed at you to run – V was right, Death was here, and it was angry.

As you moved to strike, you noticed eyes like yours manifesting and, with a swirl of smoke, your double image appeared right before your eyes – not as the King of Hell, but as your regular human self.

The figure smiled and made a dramatic bow at you.

“Now I shall fulfill my end of the deal.”

Your reflection disappeared back into the mist as you kept Vergil close to you and backed up carefully – only for the smoke to clear and you could once more see Valette continuing his insane ritual.

As the dark mist approached, Valette coughed and backed up as he tried not to breathe in the smoke – only to be forced to breathe it in when he could no longer hold his breath. As his vision cleared, he gasped and stumbled back as the mist revealed The Dark Knight, Sparda himself in all his regal glory – glaring down at him and making him feel small.

“It worked! M-My King! My God!” Valette barely had any words upon seeing the vision of his very own god standing right before him. In the end, the ceremony went better than he had planned: they didn’t have Vergil as a successor of their deity, but the Dark Knight Sparda himself. “I – oh, I don’t know how this happened, but it surely must be a miracle! The Dark Knight Sparda! We all knew you weren’t gone! That… That life, that simple, human, ordinary life wasn’t meant for a God such as yourself, our Savior! I was certain you ran away, to return to all your power and glory…! Ah, what I delightful sight, our Savior has returned…!”

“I am disappointed in what measures you took to summon me.” Sparda’s voice reverberated through the floor and the walls, sending a slight chill down your spine. Even after defeating Chevalier, you backed up until your back touched Vergil’s chest – his hand immediately resting on your waist as if to tell you he was there and all was fine. “You would wound, mind control and eventually kill my son to take a power that was never rightfully yours. So, I decree your punishment to be fitting of what my son spoke of.”

The image started to fracture, unravel and become distorted as Valette witnessed inky demonic and human hands grab his limbs, hold his head up, and anchor his legs down. He was soon seeing glitches of Sparda's image and his own… Coming and going, multiple versions of him and the Dark Knight. Valette’s head was spinning as he tried to make sense of things… As he finally stopped to think what that all meant and if the Sparda he was seeing was, indeed, real.

“Death shall crown you a King of Fools; and you shall be nothing more than a puppet to obey my whims.”

As a dark crown descended on his head, Valette screamed bloody murder as the pain instantly rushed his body. His eyes started to burn as his wrists and forehead were carved with the sigils used to bind Vergil’s will against himself – meanwhile, the man could only watch his own mind being locked away in a body that did not respond to his whims, unable to fight back as the Dark Slayer previously did. Valette was soon begrudgingly kneeling at the feet of the figure standing before him, trying hard to fight it off but failing miserably.

“A false face must hide what the false heart doth know. But I see you for who you are, those false masks pale in comparison to what I put on.”

You stood there with your blood running cold as the figure looked up at you, then calmly approached – still keeping some distance between you and them.

“It’s not everyday that a human carries the King of Hell title and lives to tell the tale about it. Well played indeed; good on you too for helping Yamato.” Only to glance down at Vergil with some awe in those eyes – a light of familiarity shimmering through as if seeing an old friend. “Sparda…?” But, after a few moments, it became bittersweet – looking on with gentle fondness. “Ah… So that's the life you've chosen all those decades ago… I deeply apologize, I must be seeing things in my old age. Be safe this Halloween night. We shall meet again when time permits.”

The figure walked back towards the sigil and with a snap of their fingers every member of the Order was being dragged into it with multiple hands pulling them in as some tried to fight for their lives – screaming, begging and pleading for mercy that fell on deaf ears. Valette tried to reach out but found himself being dragged as well.

“Oh, no…! No, please…! Mercy, my King…! Mercy, my God, do not allow it to take me! I plead you, all I did was ever to…!”

“Mercy? You ask Death to give you Mercy when you have never given none to those you’ve slaughtered beforehand? Away with you, it will have blood they say; blood must have blood.”

With a last scream, Valette disappeared into the sigil – as your mirrored figure shattered and went back into the Underworld. The markings soon vanished and the castle settled down. Nothing of Valette and the Order of the Sword was left, the castle was silent and the moonlight started to bleed back into the windows.

You finally took a deep breath, allowing your body to relax back into your lover’s – feeling Vergil’s hands quickly wrapping around you to keep you on your feet. It was all over, and you could finally rest.

*

It rained softly outside the Devil May Cry. Dante was out in another job with Lady and Trish, while Vergil found himself on the couch, quietly reading as he always did.

Delightfully, in his opinion, you were coming back from the kitchen, with your nose buried in your newest book, quietly stepping on the rhythm of the piano music playing in the background. Vergil raised his silvery gaze from his book, watching as you absent-mindedly started to swim in the music notes; as if your mind wasn’t present, but your love for music was.

Since the Halloween hunt, his power had already subsided in you and there was little vestige of you ever inheriting it like you did – but it was his blood, and Vergil could still sense it, as if it was just asleep… Waiting for a dangerous situation to kick in and allow you to use powers you would never even dream of, considering your human condition.

Vergil allowed a soft smile on the corner of his lips. Everything you did, it was all to protect him – but now, you had a piece of him forever within you, and he would always be able to protect his darling beloved. It wasn’t something Vergil would have wanted, but it, in the end, he could see the silver lining.

Watching you moving side to side while your eyes were still following the words from your book, he had to recognize that was the reason why he was able to see the silver lining: your humanity, what made you so special and even adorable, was still there. It could’ve been gone after you worked so hard that night to keep everyone alive – and you would have willingly damned yourself in order to protect him. Luckily, that did not come to pass, and he couldn’t be more grateful.

Leaning his head slightly to one side, Vergil calmly observed as you now tried a few bolder steps, effectively dancing to the piano that filled the shop. He would doom himself to the depths of Hell if it meant keeping you safe, but having you doing that for him so willingly… It certainly disarmed him. For the longest time, Vergil was in his mindless search for power, while secretly reading books about those kinds of unconditional love, wondering – and even dreaming – about how it would feel like to be adored so much. He thought it was something reserved to books only, for he had walked a path he could never come back – and, in this path, there was only death, power and survival. No love, no softness, no care, no kindness was allowed… And so, he wasn’t entitled to none of that; at least not in this lifetime.

And still… You appeared. And you loved him, you cared about him, you showed him kindness, you talked to him softly… You embraced him in a reality Vergil thought he would never deserve, but you thought he did. And when he couldn’t protect you, when he couldn’t save even his own self and found himself trapped in his nightmare of potentially reliving everything he had been through with Mundus… You immediately bit the forbidden fruit, trading your humanity for power to save him. The last creature who deserved saving.

He was, indeed, living a love worthy of all the poems he read and dreamt about when he was young. Maybe, he was worthy of love and protection, after all.

Leaving his book on the couch, forgotten for another day and another moment when his heart wasn’t yearning for a gentle touch, Vergil approached you – this time, taking your book from your hands and your tea mug, leaving them on Dante’s desk before taking your hands in his once more. You furrowed your brows, but your lips and your eyes were smiling in wonder.

“Your hands are cold.” Vergil’s voice wasn’t too loud over the soft music, as he raised your hands to his face, slowly warming them up and brushing his lips on your fingers.

“I think you can remedy that…” Your answer was a whisper, as you tried to fight your unwilling reaction to slightly blush. He raised his silvery eyes to yours, a soft smile appearing on his lips as he watched you – and as you both identified the notes of the song that just started playing. “Mr. Darcy.”

“Hmmm. I certainly can, my darling Elizabeth…” He murmured back, looking down at your hands once again, and placing a few kisses. “Darcy.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from closing your eyes and allowing a smile to spread across your lips, giggling with his remark.

“Vergil!” As the piano notes started swirling around, you suddenly felt Vergil’s arms wrapping around you, taking you into an impromptu waltz – gliding, spinning, flying through the battered wooden floor of the Devil May Cry shop.

It was rare for Vergil to laugh out loud, but you could hear him laced with your own laugh, as he guided you through the notes that took you around in a dance worthy of an enchanted music box – the Yamato resting peacefully around your books, not at arm’s length, quite glad to be forgotten by Vergil for a couple of hours in decades.

And, for the very first time, you could see how his silvery blue eyes were warm and smiling.

[itscherrylipsforme]

When were you planning to tell us?: Theseus Scamander x fem!reader

Summary: During their wedding your recently married friends can't stop asking questions about your "mysterious" husband. Little they know he is the same man who has been flirting with you during all the ceremony

Warnings: Drinking a little, I guess? But nothing else except that Jacob and Queenie being unaware of the world around them; Leta and Theseus ot being able to hide their chuckles; and Dumbledore being a funny smartass. Takes place after Dumbledore's secrets and in Au where Leta doesn't die and she wasn't enganged with Thesesus

Requested: yes

Words: Around 1130

Author rambles: This is kind of inspired in a wedding I attended a couple of years ago and the situation fitted quite well with the request

Masterlist Characters I write for

Likes and reblogs are appreciated ღ

I do not authorize any of my works to be copied, translated or plagiarized ✗

Bright smiles, sparky eyes and some tears of pure happiness, that was a quick and accurate way to describe most weddings. Jacob’s and Queenie’s was not an exception to this. A small and intimate ceremony on the bakery, only family and friends attending, perfect for the couple union. While the bride and the groom, now wife and husband, were looking at each other with love-dove eyes, you and the rest of the guests were enjoying the sight.

“She looks beautiful today, even more that normally” You whispered to Theseus who was by your side leaning in the desserts table.

“I still believe you were prettier in your wedding” He replied a small grin playing on his lips.

“You are a charmer with words, Theseus Scamander” Your hands slowly moved to take two glasses of champagne, handing one of them to your companion.

“Only because you deserve it, darling” He took a quick sip of the pinkish beverage, which had been Queenie’s idea.

You would have scolded him for his smarmy antics if it wasn’t for your nosy friends who had been half-listening to your talk. Yeah, a small bakery was definitely not the best place to hold a private conversation. It wasn’t long until Mr and Mrs Kowalski came to your way with a mixture of curiosity and surprise.

“y/n you never told us you had been married, honey” Queenie sweet voice echoed in your ears. The realization hit you, you had been caught.

“Actually, I still am” Thesus couldn’t help but chuckle at your words.

“And who is the lucky man?” Jacob managed to speak while taking a bite from the nuptial cake “Do we know him?”

Theseus cheeks were starting to tint in a similar tone to his hair. You wondered how an auror like him, who has supposed to be calm and stern in every situation, couldn’t stop that grin from spreading on his face right now. Luckily for the two of you, Leta Lestrange, your best friend since your Hogwarts years (your guardian angel as you should call her from now on), appeared on the scene.

“What is the fuss for?” she joined the group and thanks to her endearing smile and her ability to put the focus on herself in every situation, you could enjoy a few seconds to think what would you say next. You were so relived thanks to her entry that you didn’t even get annoyed when she playfully stole your glass of champagne.

“y/n has just told us that she is married” The bride explained enthusiastically.

“Ohh…” Great, the last thing you needed right now was another person who couldn’t keep a secret to save her life. Surprisingly, she decided to play along. After all a little fun never hurt anyone “Of course she is, I was the bridesmaid”

“Leta…” You tried to interrupt her in order to finally reveal the truth.

“Wonderful!” Queenie clapped “So you can tell us more about that mysterious husband of hers”

“Yeah y/n, you never told us anything about him” Theseus took a sip of his drink and still he couldn’t hide his smirk.

Oh, he made a big mistake… Never play games with a girl who can play them better, Scamander. You should remind him that later.

“Well, he is the perfect gentleman. Sweet, chivalrous, caring…” You dreamingly looked at the celling “But also a little bossy, stubborn, touchy too. And he always overworks himself with his job to the point its annoying” Your audience was expectant to hear more about it. Theseus tried his best not to look slightly offended while Leta patted his back.

“But you love him, don’t you?” The older Scamander brother asked, his eyes shinning hopefully. One of the many things that made you fall for him since the first day.

“With every piece of my heart” Your gaze was locked in his.

That intimate moment which had somehow grown in a room full of people faded a wide the instance the door’s bell rang, announcing Tina’s and Newt’s arrival in the bakery. God knew what they had been talking about while the rest of you were enjoying the desserts.

“Guys, you will never guess what happened” Jacob said as soon as they came to his sight.

“Y/n is married!” Queenie announced as the sweet gossiper she was.

The young magizoologist’s eyes travelled back and forwards from yours and his brother’s face, clearly confused. The elder Goldstein sister just looked unaware, waiting for an explanation.

“Of course, she is” Newt finally broke the silence “I was the best man”

“You too?” Jacob said surprised “Are we the last ones to discover this?”

“I didn’t know until today either, Mr Kowalski. Although I have been having my suspicions since you two were students. You have never been good at hiding your feelings, Miss l/n”

Dumbledore laughed from the other side of the room where he was leaning on the wall absent-mindedly eating his piece of cake. A privileged position which he took advantage of to listen to the whole discussion.

“Or should I say Mrs Scamander now? Congrats anyway, thanks to your marriage Professor McGonagall owes me ten galleons now” Gasps of shock echoed between the bakery’s walls.

Your husband made himself comfortable, his hands now proudly around your waist in a gentle grip.

“Thanks Professor” he replied.

“When did you make it official if I can ask?”

“Just after he returned from the war. We wanted to keep it simple, Newt and Leta were the only guests” You softly squeezed your husbands hand.

“And when were you planning to tell us?”

“Jacob, sweetie, focus on what is important” His wife corrected him “Why didn’t you tell us?”

You two shrugged the question off. Being honest, you had never truly hidden your union, not intentionally at least. Theseus did not wear his ring on his finger, but in a necklace around his neck. Too afraid that he would lose it in a mission due to his work as an auror; so you decided to do the same. He didn’t keep the gesture of love low-key either. Always calling you pet names or protectively staying by your side. But it was true he did the same for Leta and his brother, and that kisses were always reserved for closed doors for unknown reasons. With those reasons, it was understandable that your friends hadn’t realized sooner you were in fact married. They just took you for an old friend duo. How wrong they were, but as no correction had been said before by either of you they were still ignorant of the fact.

As they say: “Actions speak louder than words” and that was exactly what your husband did. Arms tangled around your hip and lips that were leaning for a kiss which ended up in a resounding applause. In the next years you would receive endless teasing for it, but enjoying the moment you couldn’t care any less about it.

[personasintro]

Mutual Help | #34

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, mature content

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 14.6k+

⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢ 

"Jungkook!" It's like the sweetest melody to him, to hear her angelic voice as she falls apart underneath him and his fingers, his lips preparing kisses on her neck to coax her through an orgasm.

He pulls out his fingers out of her heat, wiping them against his sweatpants as he watches her chest heave with quickened pace. Kiko's eyes open as she smiles at Jungkook, sitting up before she delivers a kiss to his lips.

"I love you," she whispers, looking into his doe eyes while he stares at her as if he hasn't just fingered her.

He wasn't planning any of this. It happened naturally, just two of them cuddling on Jungkook's bed while they talked about their day. It started with a kiss and none of them told the other to stop. He doesn't regret it and is happy that no dark thoughts erupted in his mind while he kept his attention on the woman in front of him – his girlfriend.

It's no lie he was scared whenever they'd become more intimate, wondering if he's going to think about someone else touching her. But as soon as his lips met hers, he couldn't think about anything else but the desperation and love he feels for her. Maybe she doesn't deserve him, like you said and deep down Jungkook knows that too, but heart wants what it wants. He doesn't want to spend the rest of his life and their relationship analyzing all the things they're doing and keep happening between them.

"We don't have to go any further, if you're not ready."

Jungkook doesn't realize he's slightly frowning, letting her hands caress his chest. Embarrassingly but quite naturally, his hardened dick draws too much attention, something that's been caused by him being so close to her. Jungkook is a man, that much is certain and understandable, so it's only reasonable for him to pop up a boner. He's got his own needs and to be honest, jerking off in the shower is becoming boring and not enough.

"Are you ready?" Caring as always, Jungkook asks her as his brown eyes flicker to her own as she sucks in breath, growing emotional at how good of a man he is.

"Yes," she simply says, even though there are thousands of words she'd rather say. "But this is mostly about you, Kookie. We can wait." she smiles at him, giving him that bit of courage in case he's contemplating whether to say yes or no.

And he doesn't understand it. He doesn't understand how such a sweet girl full of love and compassion when it comes to everyone around her, especially when it comes to Jungkook, could've hurt him so much.

Jungkook asked for time and Kiko fully respects it, never doing the first move for them to grow closer like they used to be. She doesn't want to do anything Jungkook might be uncomfortable with and she'll give him as much time as he needs. No matter how much she wants to go back to how they were. And it took a long time for her to realize that maybe they will never be like they used to be.

"I don't wanna wait," he says softly, cupping her hands that are placed over his chest, stealing a kiss from her. "I wanna move further, be closer to you." he says once he slightly pulls away.

He hears her gasp, tears pooling in her eyes as she kisses him again. She reaches for his sweatpants, already ready to cup his hardened length but he shakes his head, detaching their mouths. He's met with her scared eyes, scared because she thinks she did something wrong or maybe misread the situation. Jungkook sees that and rushes to explain himself.

"I just want to feel you. I can't wait." he murmurs against her mouth, noticing how she nods and helps him undress himself.

Jungkook has always had a very fit body, has maintained it with diets and by him spending his free time in the gym, working out whenever he had the time. But ever since she had the opportunity to see him like this, Jungkook's body gained more muscles and a couple of tattoos. Seeing her gulping at the sight of his abs, he grows more confident and even smirks down at her as he takes off all of his clothes.

The couple keeps kissing, Kiko's hands touching Jungkook's body like it's the first time she ever gets to do it. When she sneakily wraps her hand around his length, he's losing it already reaching for his nightstand. She doesn't question his choice, completely understanding it by more than one reason. Jungkook notices the guilt on her face, knowing exactly why she's reacting like that. Their relationship had been so close, full of trust that they'd go bare a few times. They both would get tested every few months, just to be sure and Kiko's been taking birth control since she was a teen. The level of trust they had with each other was specimen. To see him reaching out for a condom box, even though she knows he was surely intimate with you too, reminds her that some things really changed. But can she blame him or be shocked? No. She's not. More like disappointed with herself.

"I love you." she reminds him as she watches him roll the condom down his length, his dark eyes glancing at her as he smiles.

He hovers over her, one arm holding himself not to crash her while the other one goes down to his length. "I love you too." he tells her, kissing her as he slowly enters her.

It's unbelievable how all the memories and bad feelings are gone, and all he can remember are the good times when they were connected like this countless times, proving their young love.

"Miss, with all due respect, I don't think you should drive right now." The paramedic tells you for the third time, the poor guy growing impatient and maybe slightly annoyed by your stubbornness. The other man, the driver, sitting in the driver's seat lets out a sigh behind you but decides to stay quiet. All he does is react with annoyed sighs. Asshole.

"But I'm fine," you almost whine, heart still beating from the fact you had a car accident but luckily haven't harmed anyone else. However, you're glad you're alive and made it out with a wound to your temple which isn't that bad. It hurts but not to the point you couldn't handle it. You just hit it pretty hard and it caused a small cut to pierce your skin. Luckily, there are no stitches needed.

He gently taps the bandaid that secures your wound causing you to hiss, ignoring the knowing look from the middle aged man.

By the time you've realized you're alive and very much lucky that your car didn't collide with someone else's, somebody already called an ambulance. Apparently, they have to check you even though you assured them you're fine but the blood slowly dripping down your cheek said otherwise. It's just blood, you naively thought but then agreed to let them examine you. You don't want to risk anything, but you don't think it's that serious to the point you couldn't drive. And you're lucky there hasn't been a need to call the police, since this hasn't been a fender bender situation.

"It's just a small wound." you tell him, looking at your car that's parked on the side of the road, almost mockingly staring at you while you're sitting in the ambulance.

"Yes, but you hit your head pretty hard and some symptoms of something more serious can show later. I don't advise you to drive. Look, we can get your car towed. You said it yourself that you panicked because you were shocked," Fuck you and your big mouth. In your defense, there wasn't much that you could've said instead. "I advise you to call someone to pick you up. Do you have someone you could call to come get you?"

Sighing, somewhere in the corner of your freaking stubbornness, you know the man is probably right. He has no reason to lie to you and fake his worry about you. He's a professional, probably experienced and seen countless similar situations like this one. However, you do think he's making a big deal out of this. You've been barely harmed and you haven't harmed anyone, nor damaged your car. For the sake of yourself, and maybe the fact this man has warm eyes but looks stern and is probably thinking you're some dumbass, you don't even tell him that the reason you panicked is not just the driver's fault who was stopping at a red light at the last chance. You don't mention you mainly panicked because you know your car is old and you don't feel so safe in it anymore. This, what just happened is totally your fault and you don't need anyone else to scold you for that, when you're already doing that for yourself.

"But what about my car?" you pathetically ask, trying to give him a reason to let you be and don't worry about you.

"We'll get it towed to your address. Your car is gonna be completely fine." he assures you, earning another sigh of desperation as you hug your jacket closer to yourself.

The first person that comes to your mind to save your ass is Jungkook, of course. Not only because he's usually the one getting you out of trouble (not that you get into trouble often), but he's also the only person that is probably very much awake and not getting ready for bed.

Who else would you call? Taehyung? He's probably asleep and he doesn't even own a car. Jimin is a person you can rely on, he's the actual definition of sweetheart and would come whenever you'd ask him to. But it's Monday and he works in an office, and he usually works overtime a lot. And he's too worried for his own good, you don't need him to panic as soon as you explain what happened to you. Jungkook will surely freak out too, you know how he gets whenever the subject is about you and your safety. But right now, he's the only logical solution and you're more leaning towards him, knowing that after all he's been the first person to come to your mind.

So you pull out your phone, glancing at the paramedic that tries to hide his relief of you listening to him. You purse your lips, knowing shit is about to go down once Jungkook picks up the phone. But he doesn't respond at the first try, your free hand rubbing your unharmed temple as you dial his phone number again.

This is why you didn't want to call anyone, you're just burdening someone's Monday.

Jungkook feels like a teen again. Almost as if he just lost his virginity and can brag to his friends about it, not that he has ever done that in the first place. Nor is he the type to brag about such an intimate thing to his friends. He used to be the shy type, not joining whenever the topic of girls swallowed the group of his teen friends.

This is not some kind of accomplishment but he can't help how content he feels right now. The moment they just shared was so beautiful, like all the times they made love. Jungkook has forgiven her a long time ago but to have it confirmed that he hasn't felt any bitter feelings during it, makes his heart more at ease. It has been such a special and emotional moment between the couple, only they can understand it. The sex full of tears, cries of pleasure and love, along with emotions.

His smile beams as he walks out of the bathroom, drying off his hair with a small white towel. The sound of Kiko continuing to shower in peace can be heard from the distance, until Jungkook's phone starts vibrating on the nightstand. His brows plunge into a frown in confusion, wondering who's calling this late. He walks up to it, towel still securely wrapped around his lower waist as he sees your name flashing on the screen. Along with the flower emoji you insisted on because apparently, you're a 'delicate flower' as you called yourself.

He chuckles at the memory and you without you even knowing, reaching for his phone as he doesn't hesitate to take the call.

"What's up, delicate flower?" he jokes, throwing the small towel he used for his hair over his shoulder.

"Hey, Kook," He hears you sigh, his grin dropping slightly. "Where are you?"

He's confused by the sudden question, but answers nevertheless. "Home."

"I'm sorry to bother you this late, but could you please come and pick me up?" you ask, somehow sounding pressured and tired at the same time, which only worries him more. You wouldn't call him and ask such a thing if it was something stupid. It's only after your questions he hears distant cars and Seoul's busy traffic.

"What happened? Are you okay?" he asks, already sounding alarmed. "Is it your car?"

"Yeah, something like that." The sigh leaves your mouth again, his head snapping to Kiko who walks into his bedroom already dressed in pajamas. She's smiling but once she sees Jungkook's widened eyes and features twisted in a worry, she stops and looks just as alarmed.

"Send me the address. I'll be there as soon as possible." he tells you, hearing you thanking him before you end the call.

"What happened?" Kiko asks, Jungkook already rushing towards the drawer he keeps his shirt on as he starts putting more clothes on.

"I don't know, I think Y/N is in trouble." he answers quickly, putting on boxers.

His hands move on their own, quick and rushed as he starts putting on the first thing he sees. It's no surprise he even pulls out a black sweatpants, matching the shirt he randomly picked but he could care less about the choice of color for his outfit.

"Trouble?"

"I don't know, she just wants me to pick her up but she had some issues with her car, so I guess something happened with it." he answers quickly, putting on a hood over his wet hair.

There's no time to blow dry it, even though he knows the risks of going out into such cold weather with wet hair.

"Oh my god, I hope she is fine." Kiko says worriedly, handing Jungkook his phone and wallet as he thanks her, already rushing to put on his shoes. The phone vibrates in his pocket, notifying him that you've sent him the address.

She hands him his jacket from the rack, watching him put it on messily before he snatches his car keys off the counter.

"I... don't know when I'll be back. You can go to sleep, if that's what you want... or--"

Kiko notices him rambling, knowing he's in a rush and it causes her to give him a smile, opening the front door for him. "Of course, go. Just please be careful, it's still snowing." she tells worriedly, seeing him nod almost not even present as he runs through the halfway to get into the underground garage to get his car.

It's still snowing. He knows that and maybe that's why he's so worried, remembering today's news where they'd warn the public to be especially careful. He can only hope nothing bad has happened and he'll have to hope for it, until he'll be there and see you himself.

The snow eases a bit but the cold stays, causing you to shiver while you answer the paramedic's questions about your current state. You've decided to sit on the edge of the ambulance between the open back door, so you'll know when Jungkook arrives.

"No head spinning?" he asks, seeing you spaced out for a moment as you shake your head.

You're just tired, managing your own shock while you worry what's going to happen with your car. Will you be able to drive it tomorrow? It should be fine, it was your fault for panicking, not the car's. But also your car isn't in a perfect state. However, you think you're in no position to choose because you rely on your car. You've to get to your work somehow, into the club on weekends as well. It has always been more convenient for you, in terms of distance and time, to use your car rather than public transportation. That's what bothers you the most. Still, you can't really use public transportation during weekends when you're working in a club. No matter how safe South Korea is, traveling by yourself in the middle of night isn't safe, no matter the country.

Black Mercedes stops just right behind your car, coming in a record time considering you called him less than twenty minutes ago. Jungkook walks out, hood of his hoodie draped over his hair, eyes glancing at your parked car on the side of the road before his eyes are already on the ambulance. You barely manage to notice the panic on his bare features because he's already running towards you, noticing you shivering and sitting on the edge of the ambulance.

You know how this must look and knowing Jungkook, just the sight of the ambulance is enough to tick him off.

"Oh my god, what happened?" He runs towards you, cupping your face into his hands as soon as he stops in front of you, eyes wide and filled with worry and horror. You see his eyes drop to your wound, hands delicately touching your cheeks.

"It's not as bad as this whole thing looks," you tell him, motioning with your hand around you. "It's just a scratch."

Jungkook ignores you, obviously having a different opinion about how this looks. "What happened?" He presses again, looking at the paramedic who looks relieved to finally know someone came for you, and you're not going to be that stubborn to drive on your own.

"A mere car accident, sir. No one else has been hurt and the car is undamaged, but she hit her head hard and I think it's better if she doesn't drive. At least until we're sure nothing serious will occur," The man says, Jungkook's eyes focused on him as he has a prominent scowl already plastered on his usually soft features.

You shiver, causing Jungkook to glance at you as he hugs you to his body, your arms automatically wrapping underneath his padded black and warm jacket. The paramedic informs him about your car being towed, saying something about how you agreed with it and luckily doesn't mention your stubbornness. But you barely listen to him, focusing on the warmth radiating from Jungkook's body as you feel his hands stroking your back through your own jacket.

"You're not driving that car again." Jungkook says, your brows raising as you look up at him completely thrown off before you frown.

"Excuse me?" you tell him, growing irritated by his tone and how confident he sounds. It's not any of his business and who does he think he is to tell you what to do?

"You can be glad you got out with a scratch, you could've been in a hospital in a much worse state, maybe even fighting for your own life. Fuck, Y/N, that car is not safe."

You're shocked how mad he sounds all of a sudden, the worry speaking out of him automatically. At the mention of your car not being safe you glance at the man, almost looking guilty, while he raises a brow at you while he shakes his head. Well, now he surely thinks you're a dumbass. Thanks to Jungkook and his mouth.

You glare at Jungkook but he has the audacity to harden his features, completely ignoring your silent warning. "I need a car, Jungkook." you point out through your clenched teeth, unwrapping your arms off him.

"Your life is more important than a fucking car." he almost barks at you, shaking head at your stubbornness.

"You're being dramatic." you tell him, mocking him by shaking your head.

He scoffs, clenching his jaw as he looks like a minute from fuming. You get he's worried about you, you could've predicted he'd act like this once he sees your wound and the fact the ambulance had to come. But you're tired, both physically and mentally and the last thing you need is him scolding you like a kid, even in front of the parademetic that feels the tension and decides to break it.

He clears his throat, gaining both of your and Jungkook's attention. "If there are any symptoms, head spinning, throwing up or anything else. Please, don't hesitate to go to a hospital." he informs you, even glancing at Jungkook as if he's purposely saying it to him.

You're not that stupid to overlook those symptoms if they were happening to you. No matter how much the paramedic and Jungkook think you're stubborn, you wouldn't gamble with your health like that. Everyone is making out of this whole situation a bigger deal than it is.

"Yes, thank you." you tell him, giving him a bow as you stand up, already seeing a man from the tow company approaching.

The paramedic gives the two of you one last glance and nod, shutting the back door. Once everything is settled with your car, you get into Jungkook's while you both sit in silence. He doesn't start the engine right away for some reason, but you're too busy to question it as you sigh in content at the warmth of his car.

"I'm fine, Kook," you mutter, feeling his eyes on you and as you glance at him, you see him looking at you. "I know how it looks but I'm fine."

"What happened? Was it your car?" he asks, worriedly stealing a glance at your wound.

"No, it was me. I was freaking stupid for panicking. Some idiot stopped at the red light at the last minute, I wasn't driving fast but I panicked and my car jerked off the road slightly,"

"Jesus Y/N," Jungkook groans, shutting his eyes at the mention of your car jerking off the road.

"It's not that dramatic!" you exclaim, trying to persuade him that there is no reason to be so worried and dramatic, just like you've told him.

"You could've died!" he exclaims back, his rough voice surprising you as you lean in your seat, nibbling on your bottom lip. You could've died. Okay, that's a bit dramatic, you think. "That's it, I'm lending you my car."

"Don't be ridiculous," you scoff, shaking your head at his absurdity. "You need your car."

And it's a freaking expensive car, you can't risk anything happening to it. You're not a bad driver, you really aren't. Things like what happened to you just now, can happen to anyone, even to the most skillful driver.

"I'll think of something," He sounds determined as he says it, starting the engine. "You're not driving that car again."

You scoff at that, chuckling to yourself at his determination. One of the things about Jungkook, good and bad at the same time, is how much he cares about others. He worries too much, especially when it comes to his closest friends and family. It's a very strong trait of his.

"Bold of you to assume that you can tell me what to do," you mutter, feeling a sudden pang to your chest with regret. You know he's just looking out for you, and you appreciate it with all your heart. There's no one else in this world that cares for you like Jungkook does. But you still think he's being dramatic and overprotective.

His hands around the steering wheel tighten, along with his knuckles that turn white as he tries to control himself. You know he hates nothing more than you talking back at him, something you've been always doing to prove your point.

"Look, I know you were scared and I'm so grateful you came all the way here to pick me up. But I'm alive and even though my car isn't in a perfect state, it's driving okay. I'm the one who caused this accident." you tell him softer this time, seeing his jaw still locked in place as he pokes his inner cheek with his tongue.

It's only now that you notice his wet hair, a guilt growing inside of you. He's here being worried about you, dropping everything to get you and you yell at him for being dramatic. To be fair, he kind of is dramatic and even though you realize the risk and things that could've happened, you'd rather not dwell on that too much. It doesn't do any good and now, it seems like you're holding it for both of you.

"Does it hurt?" he asks softly, pointing towards his temple to hint at your wound.

"A little," you shrug, "But I'm fine." you assure him.

Jungkook seems to be deep in thoughts for the rest of the ride, so you don't dare to start a small-talk, nor you're in the mood. You're tired and you're going to work tomorrow anyway. There's no need for you to stay home. Your car is already parked in the parking lot, a guy already from the tow company is waiting for you to give you back your keys. Once that's everything settled, Jungkook agrees to your invitation to come upstairs but you know it's only because he wants to make sure there's really nothing wrong with you. As much as Jungkook is caring and worries too much, you always make sure not to burden him even more and he knows that. You both know each other, know both's intentions and when you look at each other in the elevator, there are amused smiles on your faces. However, there are no words about it being uttered.

Once the jackets are undressed and boots taken off, the warmth of your home welcomes you as you inform Jungkook you're going to change your clothes quickly. He plops onto your couch lazily, just like he always does because he's comfortable in your home just like you're in his. Thinking about him and the time when you spent a few days at his place, you're sure Jungkook would be an amazing roommate. He loves things neat and clean while he likes to cook and take care of laundry. He's a dream man for every woman. He's also very skilled whenever it comes to man's job around the house. You'll never forget how many times Jungkook changed a light bulb for you, he's changing it whenever you need him to at this point.

When you're back, wearing much more comfortable clothes than your work ones, you find him with a phone in his hands while the screen illuminates his face. Once he sees you're back, he tucks his phone back into the pocket of his sweatpants and looks at you. You notice his hair is almost all dried while you still feel a little bit guilty that he rushed so quickly to come get you.

"What were you doing out so late anyways?" he asks, remembering that underneath your thick jacket you were wearing your work attire which could mean only one thing. You were coming out of work which you confirm with your response.

"I was driving home from work."

"So late? Aren't you usually finishing around five?" he scowls, seeing you nod as you offer him something to drink but he dismisses you with a shake of his head. "Were you working overtime again?"

"Yeah, we had a meeting with customers from Japan and it prolonged." you tell him casually, his scowl still not leaving his face.

"Junho should really stop making you overwork that much." he comments. You do agree with that statement but rather than thinking Junho is that evil guy, you know he got the reason for it.

"Well, it's a very busy season and he wants to make sure everything is settled before the holidays. We got this amazing opportunity to have some of our models to be a part of a fashion show in Japan. Thanks to you, by the way. Your pictures are perfect and caught their eyes, your pictures basically got us this deal." you tell him, and for the first time Jungkook seems to beam at your praise.

"Ah, it's nothing." he waves his hand awkwardly, growing shy all of a sudden and it makes you chuckle.

"It's not nothing, you're an amazing photographer Kook." you tell him honestly, smiling at your best friend that grins cutely as soft 'thank you' leaves his mouth, looking in his lap modestly.

Then he glances at you, his smile falling as his eyes linger on your small wound. You snicker, finding his concern both cute and overdramatic. The lightning of your tripod lamp casts over his clear skin and you silently envy him for that, knowing he keeps his skincare routine minimal. You made him put face masks stored in your bathroom more than once, the amount of funny pictures of the two of you looking ridiculous while wearing them is a decent proof of it.

As Jungkook suddenly sighs, leaning his back against the sofa's back lazily, you notice something peeking underneath his hoodie. The fresh red mark contrasts with the color of his skin. Well, you can't say you're exactly shocked to see hickey adoring his skin. Even though Jungkook doesn't mention Kiko that often, and you know it's because of your opinion about her, however, there are times he just has to mention her. Especially when you ask him how his day was and what he did, his answer usually involves three things. Work, gym and Kiko. It's not like you want him to feel like he has to stop himself from mentioning her. Yes, you're still kind of bitter when it comes to the fact he's dating her again after everything she's done, and it's not going to go away. You know you'll never truly forgive her for hurting Jungkook like that. On the other hand, you're not in a place to 'forgive' her because it's not your relationship and it's Jungkook's decision. But as a best friend and a person who loves to have their own opinion, no matter how much it is not your business, you don't like her around Jungkook.

Jungkook notices your silence, turning his head to look at you as he notices your eyes on his neck. Realization hits him like a wave, he doesn't even hesitate about what you're looking at, his eyes widening as he claps his hand around the mark.

"Ah, it's... nothing." he murmurs, cringing at his repeated sentence and voice that indicates his shock and awkwardness.

You snicker, nudging his arm. "It's a hickey, Jeon. Don't be so weird about it," you chuckle, trying to lighten up the mood especially since he seems to be almost embarrassed that you've seen that.

You and Jungkook are super close, the two of you can talk about anything. He's not a typical female best friend whom you'd talk to about typical girly topics. You're close but there are some things and topics Jungkook wouldn't be able to relate to that much, no matter how much he could try. For example, a period topic. He understands you're bitchy whenever it's that time of the month and has seen you in pain more times than you can count, but it's not a topic you bring up during casual conversations or ever. On the other hand, you're very honest with him and maybe it's because he's the closest to you out of all of your friends. He's a perfect example of a person that you can talk to about anything, and he won't be making fun of you because of it.

Jungkook is the same way. He often talks about things he's doing and things that are closer to him than to you. Stuff like gym, boxing, tattoos and video games. However, one thing Jungkook keeps private is his sexlife. He's never been that open about it, especially not like you were. You practically told him all about your sex life before the deal happened. Mutual help as he calls it. Yet, you've never been too embarrassed to talk to him about it.

Partly, him not talking about it is simply because he respects his partner and doesn't go around telling anyone how the sex is. Or his sex life in general. Maybe there were a few remarks about jerking off but he usually doesn't bring it up. He believes it's a topic that is private for him and is comfortable with not talking about it with anyone that he's not intimate with.

Glancing at his hickey, it seems like the world is laughing at you. Here you are, sexually frustrated and even got into a car accident. You want to laugh at yourself, at the absurdity of the situation.

"At least one of us is getting laid." you shrug, stating casually while trying to find at least some kind of light in this tricky situation. Even though the thought of Kiko touching him and being close to him this way again makes you want to vomit. She's beautiful, hot even but that doesn't mean her actions don't speak louder.

"Y/N!" Jungkook gasps, chuckling as he shakes his head at you.

"What? I'm just saying," you shrug again effortlessly, laying back to make yourself comfortable. "This girl has her own needs too." you joke hearing him snicker.

"How bad have you hit your head?" he asks, teasing you as he pats the top of your head as if you were a dog.

You swat his hand away, playfully glaring at him before you sigh. "Shut up, I'm just being honest." you murmur.

"Try tinder or something." Jungkook suggests, met with a raise of your brow as you disapprovingly shake your head.

"Yeah, try that for yourself," you grumble, annoyed at his teasing bunny grin. "I'm busy anyways. I don't have time to go and look around for guys. And I don't want that anyway, I want things to happen naturally. I don't wanna pressure myself that I have to find someone to date, just so I'll have a boyfriend. You know what I mean?"

Frankly, Jungkook knows what you mean. He always did.

"Of course," he murmurs, poking you in your cheek when he sees you pout which you grumble, causing him to laugh.

The two of you talk for a few minutes, Jungkook deciding to give it a night when he sees you yawning every few minutes. He doesn't forget to voice out his concern about your car, saying that you're more than capable and independent to decide on your own. But you know he would rather set your car on fire.

"I'm sorry." you tell him leaning against your front door, bidding Jungkook a goodbye as you watch his brows frown in confusion.

"Sorry about what?"

"For calling you late. I'm sure you had other plans tonight." you tell him, the hickey long hidden underneath the hoodie and his jacket.

"Don't apologize for that," he says with a frown, "I'm just glad you're okay."

And you feel how honest he is. No matter how many times you tell yourself that you don't agree with his decision, hoping he'd decided differently. You know the least thing you can do is respect it for all the things he has done for you from the beginning of your friendship.

There's only one Jungkook and you should be thankful that he's in your life, regardless of what decision the two of you have made or make.

The wound decorating, mockingly said so, your temple doesn't look better the next day. It was expected but there still had been a little hope when you woke up that it wouldn't look as bad. It turns out it looks even worse in the morning when light and sun illuminate the sky. As if it wasn't enough, there is already a bruise creating around the wound looking as if you got beaten up.

You don't care about the bruise, knowing it'll go away at some point along with the pain from the impact of yesterday night. However, you know what to expect as soon as you make it to work. Turns out you're right once again, met with countless worried and shocked expressions from your co-workers but also people you've never talked to, or never realized they work in there too. None of those expressions have been genuine and being in this industry for some time, knowing some of those people, you know they just want the latest gossip and are too curious for their own good.

By the time you come up to your floor, you lose count how many people have asked you what happened to you and faked their concern. The answer is simple and the same every time; 'Just a small accident' is what you say with a tight smile that shows your discomfort, but none of them cares. They're too nosy to be more empathic and to leave you alone.

The only person you expect to actually leave you alone and show you no interest is none other than Yoongi. As much as he proved himself to be annoying, sticking his nose where it doesn't belong (considering all the teasing about Jungkook that he's been doing), you don't actually expect him to care about your little scratch. There couldn't be anything done with it and even though you've put some concealer on the new bruise, it's still pretty much visible. The odds are not in your favor when you notice him across the room, sporting that annoyed look he has every time someone talks to him before he gets to drink all of his iced Americano. But then he looks at you, eyes slightly widening when he sees the bruise but as it came, it's gone before he excuses himself. Surely using you as an excuse not to talk to Sophia who usually needs something when she's talking to someone. You notice her annoyed expression before she walks away with an annoyed puff, smirk curling on Yoongi's lips when he hears it but is luckily turned with his back to her, so she hasn't seen it. Not that Yoongi would actually care if she had seen it.

"Clumsy much?" he jokes, walking towards you looking even more pleased when he sees your narrowed eyes in annoyance. "Did you trip over something or what?"

You fight the urge to roll your eyes at his childishness, debating whether you should strangle or just ignore him. "I had a car accident, you idiot. At least you can pretend to be concerned like everyone else in this building." you grumble at him, attentively looking at his features.

He does look surprised at the new information, surely the news hasn't made it to this floor yet. You know he perfectly understood your words and the hidden meaning behind them. He had shoulder surgery last year and everyone faked their concern about him, just like they're doing with you right now.

You watch his features twist into worry, mouth opened agape as he lets out a dramatic gasp. For a second, you're actually believing he's concerned but then he sets his mouth free and your surprise drops. "Oh my god, is the car okay?" he asks, still faking his concern.

You can't help it but find him funny, chuckling at his absurdity as you shake your head at him. "Fuck off." you tell him, seeing him giving you an amused grin.

"You good?" he asks, tone dropping as he tries to act neutral.

The little smirk appearing on your lips gets ignored by him. "Yeah, I'm good. Hurts a bit but I'm fine."

He nods almost awkwardly, clearing his throat as he looks around the room for a moment. "I'm just asking because Yejun is gone for this weekend again. So if you're not coming to your Saturday shift, you'll have to let me know so I can find someone else to replace you."

You're not sure if he just found an excuse to ask about your condition, but you don't even think about it. When it comes to Yoongi, there are moments where it's better not to overthink his actions and just let him be.

You've got more important things to deal with, like your job. Two jobs that you need and the mention of Yoongi possibly thinking you won't be coming this Saturday to work at the club, you're quick to jump into action. "No, I'm coming." you tell him, met with a puzzled look as he glances at your bruise for a second.

He looks a little baffled at your sudden appearance and the determination to come to work, but doesn't comment on it. "Don't be late." he grumbles, leaving you standing in the middle of the room as he walks away.

The rest of the week rolls quite quickly, the busyness of Junho's demands is just enough to keep you exactly that – busy. Your bruise gets even worse, having shades of red, green and yellow. It takes ten more minutes to your usual morning routine to cover at least some of it. It doesn't hurt that much and you're completely fine, which you're trying to assure Jungkook every day. That man spams you with messages every day, asking you how you're doing and bringing up his car all the time. He's too determined to lend you his car, but you're also determined to turn him down on that offer. On the other note, it's better you don't get to see him face to face, the last time he's seen you was when he came to pick you up, the night of the accident. If he saw your ugly bruise, you'd have to listen to him scolding you all over again.

Good thing he doesn't know about your car being in a car service again. It broke down in the middle of the week, leaving you with no other choice than to use public transport. That adds at least another hour to your morning routine, so not only do you have to take the time to cover your bruise, you also have to wake up earlier to get to work just in time. He'd freak out if he knew you're going off the work alone and late at night.

To say it this way – this week has been one hell of a week and despite you've been barely home, going there just to wash yourself and go to sleep, the last thing you want is to lock yourself there and be all alone. A drink sounds good now and that's why you sit on a bar stool, after changing yourself back to the clothes you came here wearing.

Yoongi looks shocked to still see you there, wondering why the hell aren't you going home when your shift has ended. It's written all over his face and he tells you exactly that, leaning against a bar with furrowed brows.

"I need a drink," you simply tell him, ordering one of the drinks that are written on the menu on the black board behind him. You recognize that drink as a popular pick amongst women that come here.

Yoongi looks a little baffled but goes to mix your drink anyways. "Aren't you driving?" he asks once he's done, passing the drink in front of you.

"Thanks," you tell him, your gratitude and politeness ignored by him as he waits for your answer. "No, my car is in a car service... again."

He's amazing at hiding his reactions when he wants to and he's even better at staying neutral, so you can't tell if he already knew about you not driving to work or not. The truth is, he didn't know. He doesn't pay you that much attention and it's not like he goes around the huge parking lot, looking for your car.

"You're going home by bus?" he asks. You fight the urge to tease him, deciding to leave it for now. It's nice to have a casual conversation, something that doesn't contain work or Jungkook's overdramatic ideas of lending you his car.

"Cab," you answer him simply, your answer followed by a shrug. "I don't feel like waiting at a bus stop in this weather late at night."

He doesn't say anything for a moment, interrupted by one of the customers as he goes back to work. You sit there with your thoughts, enjoying the drink that has hints of pineapple, vodka and something else that tastes sweet and fights the strong taste of alcohol. Yoongi is great at mixing drinks, however you let that praise to yourself and enjoy the drink instead. By the time you barely get to finish your drink, a third guy approaches you trying to buy you a drink as you politely decline. From the corner of your eyes you notice Yoongi glancing at your way, always making sure the customers aren't uncomfortable. It's something you've noticed ever since Yoongi replaced Yejun's absence. You understand why Yejun trusts his brother with his club, knowing it's in good hands while he's away.

"Listen, I'm not interested. I can buy myself a drink." you huff at the man, wondering why they keep coming when all you're wearing are a pair of jeans with a random hoodie you pulled out of your closet today. There are dozens of women wearing short and tight dresses, looking way more appealing than you and your bruise and kind of horrendous outfit.

The man huffs annoyingly, ego hurt by your somehow polite but still bitter decline of him buying you a drink. Free drink would sound nice but you know you'd never get rid of him if you agreed. He wasn't even your type.

"Damn, for a minute I thought I should step in but you got it handled." Yoongi jokes, approaching you as you hand him the empty glass and order another one.

"I got everything handled, Min," you assure him, pursing your lips in amusement as he grins and starts mixing you your second drink. You're not going to lie, it strokes your ego a little bit knowing guys are coming up to you even when you look... like this. On the other side, they all seem drunk and you know that kind of type of man. Looking for someone to sleep with tonight.

Once Yoongi hands you your second drink, he goes up to Mark and talks to him for a second. You pull your phone out of the pocket of your jeans, trying to entertain yourself for a moment by opening an Instagram app. You look at your friends' and people you follow stories, noticing Jungkook posted something too. You're not surprised at the mention of Kiko's account as he snapped a simple picture of a pizza box, captioning his Insta Story with 'pizza saturday night' with Kiko's username. Your curiosity gets the best out of you and you click onto her profile. Let's not act as if you weren't stalking her Instagram account from time to time. Well, you wouldn't call it stalking... more like observing because you're curious. Most of her pictures are of her wearing nice outfits or simple selfies showing her beauty. You notice Hoseok in some pictures too but the newest one she posted just an hour ago catches your attention right away. How could it not when it's your best friend, those doe eyes staring at you as he's biting into pizza, staring at the camera with wide eyes and teeth digging into pizza. You recognize the background as Jungkook's apartment, being there too many times not to recognize it straight away.

She simply captioned the picture with a single black heart, sparking an annoyance inside of you. Not from jealousy, but from the fact she doesn't deserve him. Do all her friends that commented on that picture or even liked it know that she cheated? They surely don't. There are only a very few people who know and it's not something to brag about.

Too interested in the picture and annoyed at Jungkook's girlfriend, you don't notice someone else approaching you until you see a movement beside you in the corner of your eyes. Yoongi plops on the bar stool next to you, shamelessly staring at your screen as you glare at him, locking the phone and stuffing it back into your pocket.

"Stalking your boyfriend, I see." he teases, causing you to glare at him again as you roll your eyes. Stalking is a bit of a strong word.

"Get lost," you grumble at him, "I wasn't stalking."

"Mhm," he hums, pouring himself a shot of vodka as you stare at him with wide eyes. Isn't he working? "The club is closing soon and I feel like you need some company. You've been more grumpy lately, more than usual actually."

Scoffing, you bite your tongue not to deny his assumption because in a way, he's right. You wouldn't say you're grumpy, or more grumpy like he said, you just have a lot on your mind. "Are you sure your company is the one I need?" you respond, taking a sip of your drink as he grins at you.

"What other option do you have?" He motions around him and you look behind you, noticing almost everyone shitfaced as the club is slowly emptying. Even the music isn't as loud as it had been before.

"Go home, so I don't have to sit here with you?" you deadpan, seeing him snorting at you as a grin makes a way to your lips. In other scenarios, if it were with a different person sitting next to you, you'd tell yourself you're rude and shouldn't have responded like that. But you also know it's Yoongi and he treats you the same way. It's just the way you both are with each other.

His own grin tells you that he's not offended, more like amused by your response.

"I'm surprised," he starts, catching your attention once again as you glance at him.

His dark hair almost touches the top of his eyes, the club lights creating shadows on his pale skin as he puts down the empty glass. When did he drink it all?

"Your best friend left quite an impression on Junho, haven't seen that in a while."

You realize, this is the first time he hasn't called Jungkook your boyfriend, but a best friend instead. Deciding it's better not to comment on that, liking that he's not calling him that or teasing you for it.

"Yeah, the pictures turned out great." you nod. There's no doubt Jungkook did an amazing job, everyone in the company knows it and Yoongi is aware of that too. And you're not saying it because Jungkook is your friend.

"I heard thanks to his pictures it got us a deal with Rakuten," Yoongi says, surprisingly sounding casually and quite impressed which is a nice change from the constant bickering and teasing the two of you don't seem to let you.

In your defense, it's not your fault. He's the one who started to be annoying, you're just looking after yourself. Even though his behavior is still irritating, pretty much sparking a new kind of irritation inside of you that you never knew you've got in the first place, it's not as bad as you thought it is and you got used to it. Still, there are times you'd rather strangle him than put up with his annoying ass.

You agree with him, saying that Jungkook is very skillful in many things, photographing being one of them. However, you refrain yourself from praising Jungkook any further, not wanting to give him another reason to think you're obsessed with your best friend or anything similarly absurd that Yoongi seems to be thinking or wanting to tease you about. Despite Yoongi's determination to call Jungkook your boyfriend, even though he surely knows that's not true, there's something telling you he's doing it to purely tease you.

Still, the credit goes mainly to Jungkook, thanks to him the models from your agency get to walk on the runway in Japan. It's the biggest talk of this week (it's even more interesting than your car accident) which you're thankful for.

"So, has the lover boy got back to his ex?"

You don't expect Yoongi to ask such a thing, nor remember the information you've told him some time ago. But then again, it just confirms the assumption about him being attentive and remembers things even if he acts like he doesn't.

"Yeah," you murmur, scrunching your nose a little bit before you can control your reaction, knowing very well he's looking at you. "He's probably getting some as we're speaking." That makes him laugh, an actual laugh leaves his mouth as he reaches over the bar for the bottle of vodka to pour himself another shot.

"You sound jealous." Yoongi comments, mistaking your reaction as you snicker under your breath.

"That he's getting some? Maybe," you admit, the alcohol getting into your head is giving you more courage and you feel more comfortable admitting such a thing in front of him. "Jealous that he got back to his ex? Nope."

Yoongi doesn't spare you a glance, frowning at the glass as he pours himself a shot but you know he's listening to you as he nods. "You do sound a little bitter about it though."

"Yeah, because she's a bitch." you almost spit, taking a sip of your drink before you can let the anger consume you knowing it's mainly the alcohol that makes you so loose-lipped.

"Is she really?" he asks, surprised, gulping the alcohol as if it's nothing and just plain water causing you to cringe. You can smell the vodka on his breath, wondering how he's not already gagging at the taste.

"Yeah, no," you answer quickly, confusing yourself as you shake your head. "I don't know," you sigh, met with Yoongi's dumbfounded look he's giving you.

Well, you do sound dumb right now but it's the confusion and your brain trying to find a way to explain it to him. You don't want to reveal such information about Kiko cheating on Jungkook. Not because you want to protect her, but because you feel sorry for Jungkook. You don't want Yoongi to acknowledge him as a guy that got cheated on. At the same time, it's not your place to tell that to anyone. It's a respectful thing to do for your best friend. Maybe if it wasn't Jungkook, you wouldn't mind that much. Hell, if it wasn't Jungkook and someone else, Jungkook would be the first person you reveal such information.

"The thing is..." you start, finishing your drink as you silently plead Yoongi for making you another one. He sighs, disappointed that you want such a thing from him when you're about to explain yourself.

Too lazy to do it himself, he calls at Mark and gives him an instruction to make you the drink, ignoring your raised brow as he stares at you, telling you to continue.

"She hurt him very badly. I don't think she deserves him." you tell him simply.

For a moment, Yoongi sits while being turned your way, waiting for you to say something else but then when he realizes that's all you wanted to say, his shoulders slouch in a mere disappointment as he gives you an unimpressed look.

"What? What did you expect?" you exclaim, laughing a little at his reaction.

"I don't know? Some juicy stuff? Just when I thought you've got something interesting to say." You know he's partly joking when the corner of his mouth twitches and he tries to hide it by looking away, but you notice it feigning a gasp.

"I'm an interesting person for your information," you clarify, pursing your lips when he gives you an amused smirk. "I am!" you exclaim, causing him to laugh as your laugh is followed right behind his.

"Okay, Ms. Interesting," he scoffs, grinning at you. "You're weird." he comments suddenly, causing you to think about it for a second.

You've never considered yourself to be weird. Okay, there are a few moments when you think you're weird but you wouldn't consider yourself as that. "I'm not weird. What do you mean?" you frown, staring at him in confusion.

Mark places the drink in front of you, smiling when you thank him as he leaves the two of you alone. You notice a lot of people already left but there are still a few people dancing on the dance floor and lingering around, too drunk to stand up and leave. Casual Saturday night.

"Well, you have a best friend that somehow became your fuck buddy, except he's not that anymore. Then he gets back to his ex and you're bitter about it, not only that. You're also bitter that his sex life is better than yours." he explains, somehow looking amused again as you see you dumbfoundedly staring in front of you as you let his words sink in.

"Okay, maybe I'm a little weird," you murmur, making him laugh as you scoff, nudging his shoulder. "Oh, shut up. Also, I'm not bitter that he got back with her. Bitter isn't the word I'd describe myself as. I think annoyed and disappointed is a better description. One, because he's my best friend and I care about him. Two, she probably isn't totally a bad person but she hurt him. Three, he's freaking stupid for letting her back into his life when he deserves better."

Your chest heaves by the time you're done, realizing that those words got out of you in an instant but fuck, does it feel good. Just the fact you told Yoongi out of all people is beyond you.

Just when you expect him to tease you about it, or comment on it somehow, he actually has something rational to say.

"Love makes people do crazy things."

"Yeah, he's like a lost puppy when it comes to her." you murmur, shaking your head at your best friend as you gulp all of your drink.

Yoongi stares at you amusingly. "What about that part of his sex life being better than yours?"

"That part," you start, "is true." you laugh at yourself.

He doesn't mock you like you expect him to. "Well, to your better sex life." he says nonchalantly, however sporting that annoying smirk as he clinks your glasses together.

You'll gladly toast to that, hoping it'll bring you at least some kind of luck.

You're not sure how much time has passed, you haven't checked nor do you care that much. Somehow, you still haven't grown tired or annoyed by Yoongi's presence and actually found it quite intriguing considering you're not in each other's hair. Maybe it's the amount of alcohol you've drank, and the mentioned substance is responsible for Yoongi being talkative more than usual. You both talk about things that don't really matter, still kind of non-personal but you consider it as a success nevertheless.

What's more shocking is the fact that the nightclub located in Itaewon is empty and already closed. It's just you and Yoongi, bonding over drinks that you've lost count. You're not that drunk, just enough to blubber while you're not sure if Yoongi is even listening to you or just acting as if he is.

You're careful not to get completely wasted, and for the first time this week you feel yourself relaxing. Yoongi seems fine too, maybe a little bit lazier than usual but maybe it's because he seems to be more relaxed. He still sticks to vodka, too lazy to make you drink again so you're left with no other choice than to do shots with him. It's your second one, the burning taste of the first one is still fresh on your tongue.

"So, are you and Mark still hooking up?" you ask after a moment of silence, remembering Mark's flushed cheeks and the noticeable shy look he was giving Yoongi the other day.

"What, you interested?" He can't help but tease you, earning the expected roll of your eyes. Is he asking about himself or Mark? Not that it matters, they both aren't exactly ugly.

"As if," you huff, "Just curious." you murmur against the class of your coke, needing a little break before taking the shot in front of you.

It's weird to be in a nightclub that's completely empty, no loud music blasting in your ears. It's kind of relaxing. You almost laugh at your thoughts, momentarily distracted from your conversation with Yoongi because he's taking his time to respond.

"No, we're not. I ended it." He decides to answer. You get the feeling he revealed something he's not sure he wanted to reveal, but he doesn't seem to be too bothered as he takes a sip of his own coke and reaches for the salted chips he pulled from one of the cabinets.

"Why?" you ask, wondering if you aren't being too nosy but you don't get that many chances to pry. And there aren't that many times you're this nosy about him and his life. You can't believe him and Mark hooked up. Not because they're both men, it's not that. Not at all. But somehow the information of Yoongi hooking up with his brother's employee is quite shocking. You're not even sure why.

"I had a feeling Mark is catching feelings, so I ended it before it could end up with a heartbreak." he explains bluntly, as if he wasn't speaking about someone's feelings. Surprisingly, rather than thinking that Yoongi is being cold it's not that thought that crosses your mind.

Despite you and Yoongi working together, you're not super close and don't consider him as your friend. He definitely doesn't consider you as his friend. Somehow the two of you always end up talking (or bickering is a more accurate word). But you think he sounds so blunt because that's who he is. He doesn't show his emotions that much and it's okay. It's hard to tell what he's thinking. And you mean by this is, that instead of thinking that he's cold towards Mark you realize that he put his feelings first. You realize he didn't want to hurt him. Yoongi's words of not wanting to date remind themselves in the back of your mind, making sense why he ended it.

"Did you tell him you're not interested in dating?" you ask, reaching for some chips too as you munch on the salty snack.

"Of course," he almost scoffs, as if you asking this question is ridiculous. "When two people are hooking up, it's bound that one of them always catches feelings sooner or later." he states, surely of his statement as you can't help but disagree.

"That's not true," you shake your head, "Me and Jungkook hooked up and none of us caught feelings."

Yoongi chuckles at that, causing you to frown. What's funny? "Either one of you did or you're both lying to yourselves."

You roll your eyes at that. Again. Another person who thinks you and Jungkook can't stay friends without being in love. To be honest, not all friends hooked up together but your situation is different. You and Jungkook are different, and you're the only ones who understand that. To other people it seems weird, sometimes you can't believe you had sex with your best friend. Many times to be exact. But then you remember when you did have sex and how it felt. And you don't regret it.

"I know it's hard to believe and hard to get through your thick head," You ignore the glare he sends your way, "But Jungkook is very much in love with his ex, well, girlfriend now. Trust me, he doesn't think of me that way or any other women at that."

He stares at you for a moment, you recognize confusion coating his dark and sharp eyes as he shakes his head with a sigh. "Then it's just a matter of time."

"Oh my god, stop," you groan, "Women and men can be friends without being in love. You sound like our friends. You guys just don't get our friendship."

"I'm not saying women and men can't be friends. Okay, maybe you aren't in love with each other. But if you had continued fucking, I'm almost certain one of you would catch feelings," He sounds determined, believing his words as you think it through.

You don't even think of Jungkook that way. It's impossible. He doesn't think of you that way and your friendship is too precious. Before you can think about it any further, you shake your head to shake them off.

"Maybe I'm wrong. I just speak out of my experience. Every person I've been with, I was always straightforward that I'm not interested in a relationship. And it always ended up with someone getting too attached."

"By someone I presume you mean the other person?" Yoongi isn't the type to get attached, especially when he's too determined to let the person he's about to hook-up to know he's not interested in anything further than sex.

"Yes," he answers, shrugging slightly. "Maybe it's just my bad luck." he tries to joke, actually mustering a tiny smile of amusement from you in return.

"Well, me and Jungkook are different. I know it sounds impossible, considering your experience but I don't think it justifies every person who hooks up with someone else. I mean... there are people who just fuck and don't fall in love." you tell him.

He thinks it through for a moment, pursing his lips slightly before he gives you a brief nod. "You're right."

"Oh my, did you just tell me I'm actually right?" you joke, nudging him slightly to his side as he sneers at you.

"Oh, shut up," he mocks you, "But, you've to admit. There aren't many best friends that fuck too. Besides, the two of you looked like a fucking couple."

"Yeah, so I heard," you chuckle. You've heard that quite often from your friends. "I guess we both were lonely. Is it weird that we're completely fine even though we fucked and were too affectionate during that time?"

Perhaps Yoongi isn't the right person to ask that, or even let him judge it in the first place, but you still voice your thoughts wanting to hear his opinion.

"Weird? Fuck yes," he chuckles, noticing the way you shift on your spot with a little frown. "But like you said, only you and him understand each other. I'm just telling you how it looked from an outer perspective."

You nod, pursing your lips in thought as silence overtakes the two of you. If you've seen two best friends suddenly kissing each other and being too touchy in public, you would think there's more between them than just friendship or them being friends with benefits. You kind of get why Yoongi thought you're dating him. No, you definitely get it.

"If he didn't get back to his ex, would you still fuck him?"

The straightforward question surprises you a bit, your mouth opening in shock as you stare at Yoongi who looks genuinely curious, as if he is testing something. Like you said, it's hard to see what he thinks.

Would you still fuck Jungkook if he haven't gotten back to Kiko? Probably. Oh, who are you kidding. Of course you fucking would. The sex with Jungkook has been a wild ride that haunts you till this day. As absurd or weird this sounds, considering Jungkook is your best friend, you wish you had at least one last chance to let him pound you. You said what you said. It definitely has something to do with your sex frustration and knowing Jungkook is a literal beast in bed doesn't help.

Fucking Kiko is probably having the sex of her life right now. It pisses you off. Couldn't Jungkook be average in bed? Does he have to be so fucking attractive? Which you always knew, but now knowing what his abs feel like under your touch or how his dick looks is something you didn't know a few months ago.

"Shamelessly, I'm saying yes," you tell him, ignoring the rush of heat that spreads on your cheeks and you hope Yoongi doesn't notice it in this dim lightning. "Just because he's fucking good in bed and it sucks he's my best friend. I shouldn't think about him this way."

"That's debatable," he muses, causing you to look at him curiously as you silently tell him to elucidate. "You shouldn't think about fucking him because he has a girlfriend. But you also can't really control it since you know what that feels like. He got his girlfriend back and what did you get from fucking him?"

"Some mind blowing orgasms," you answer immediately, too quickly as the answer spills naturally out of your mouth before you can think about it. Yoongi stares at you with a raised brow as you shrug. "I said what I said."

You're not lying though. He really gave you the best orgasms in your life. It'll be hard to compete with that with your future partner.

"You're awfully honest when you're drunk." Yoongi comments amusingly, taking a shot to hide his smirk.

"I'm not drunk, I'm slightly buzzed." Haven't you heard those words before? Weren't you the one saying them? You can't remember, it sounds awfully familiar.

"Somehow I don't think you'd thirst over your best friend if you were 'slightly buzzed'." he says, mockingly emphasizing quotes with his fingers.

"Yah, I'm not thirsting over him!" you exclaim, slapping his shoulder as he hisses at you but still has that annoying grin plastered on his lips. He's enjoying this. "Okay, maybe I am." you add quietly, letting out a dramatic sigh.

"You definitely are," he muses with pursed lips, causing you to be the one who hisses at him this time. "You need to get laid."

"You don't say," you grumble with your nose scrunched. "Are you offering?" you tease him, expecting to be met with a disgusted look on his face or his voice sounding disgusted.

However, you see him actually thinking about it. "Oh my god! Are you seriously thinking about it?" you exclaim, laughing.

"What? No!" he tries to deny, but he shifts on his spot as his facade slowly falls down. Alcohol makes him less expressionless. "So what? This guy hasn't got any action in a while." he grumbles, your eyes almost falling out of their sockets.

Not because apparently, Yoongi hasn't had sex for a while. But because he actually thought about it. Thought about you. The annoying co-worker that irritates him but is fun to tease because he's a little shit. You can't lie, your sex frustration is annoying too. Just the thought of having someone take care of you, sexually of course, is arousing.

"Are you even attracted to me?" you ask, eyes carefully observing him as a little frown of confusion is decorating your face.

"I don't know." he answers with a shrug, causing you to scoff.

"Thanks, idiot," you grumble, seeing him grin in return. You don't understand this guy. "Well, there's only one way to find out." You've no idea where this courage is coming from.

Yoongi looks at you curiously, although there's something telling you he has to at least find you a little bit attractive if he suggested such a thing.

"Kiss me." you tell him, not expecting him to give such a blunt expression. He doesn't look not at least caught off guard as he sucks in breath, looking somewhere behind you before he looks at you.

"Why should I be the first one to kiss you? Kiss me first."

You roll your eyes at his childishness. "You're such a kid," you comment, "Let's do it at the same time."

"Fine," he murmurs, straightening himself as he inches closer to you.

It's weird to look him in the eyes, seeing him up close with the thought that you're about to kiss him. However, your brain is clouded to think about the fact that this is Min Yoongi. The one and only who's been a huge pain in the ass. Alcohol heats up your body, giving you more courage to do this thing and it probably intensifies your need to feel some action.

You're not sure who kisses who first, you two somehow inch close to each other until your lips meet in an awkward peck. You almost cringe, already feeling some type of awkwardness and when you meet Yoongi's eyes, he probably thinks the same thing.

Okay, let's try it again. If it doesn't work, you'll pretend any of this didn't happen. He sees your eyes glancing at his lips, recognizing what you're about to do and he doesn't protest. The kiss is exactly that. It doesn't feel special but it's enough to light up the fire inside your stomach. It feels nice, his lips feel nice. They're a little bit chapped but so are yours from the cold weather. This time it's not a single peck, your mouths moving together.

There's a little bit of tongue and saliva while Yoongi keeps his hands to himself, touching you with nothing but his lips only. You pull him closer, hearing him groan as he presses his lips rougher to yours. Couple minutes of kissing leaves the two of you breathless, Yoongi standing up as he takes your hand and leads you somewhere. You recognize the path as a path to Yejun's office. There's no time to look around properly, you've been here once and that's when Yejun interviewed you, when Yoongi presses his lips to yours.

"So I take it, I am attractive?" you chuckle into the kiss, feeling the edge of Yejun's desk digging into your lower back.

Yoongi's hands are somehow respectfully on your hips, not letting them drop any lower.

"Anything will do," he says, going for another kiss as you pull back and nudge him in the cheek, causing his head to turn to the side slightly. "What do you want?"

"You're ruining the mood, Min," you grumble, "I don't want to do this if you're not sure or feel disgusted by me."

"You think I would kiss you if I was disgusted by you?" he asks dumbfounded. "God, women. This is why I usually hook-up with men." he grumbles, searching your face as you glare at him but there's a tiny smirk twitching in the corner of your lips.

"Don't blame me!" you exclaim, "So... you prefer women too?" you ask timidly, glancing at him who barely has any expression, simply staring at you. "Sorry, I didn't want to assume your sexuality. I just always thought... y'know..."

Considering his little comments about Jungkook, and now you finding out he used to hooking up with Mark, you somehow thought he prefers men. Well, you didn't think about it until now.

"You're doing exactly that," he grins, not offended at all even though he acts like it a little bit. "It's just been a while since I was with a woman."

You nod, biting your lower lip in thought. You're not going to lie, making out with Yoongi made the thought of enjoying this night to the fullest more appealing. Also, you're aware that if the two of you were completely sober, none of this would probably happen. You're not wasted, neither is Yoongi but you're both buzzed. You could taste the vodka on his lips, nothing too strong but the taste is there.

"You wanna continue?" you ask, tilting your head slightly.

"I think I do," he answers, "Do you?"

"Yeah," you nod, giving him a consent he's asking for before you're kissing all over again. It's not too rushed, even though there's no doubt the two of you are aroused. The pace is just fine and it feels like you're both testing the waters with each other.

Deciding it's enough of kissing, you take off your hoodie and toss on the desk behind you, ushering Yoongi to take his own too. He does, showing you his plain white shirt and buffed out chest. You feel bad for wanting to compare him to Jungkook. It's ridiculous, they've different body types. Yoongi still has his own charms. Your jeans follow next, there aren't many words said out loud, both of you taking off your jeans purposely out of one reason. To get each other off. Back in your mind you can hear yourself scolding that this is not you and you've never done this before. Sure, you hooked up with Jungkook but that's different. Maybe you weren't dating him for real, but he's always been close to you in more than one way. Yoongi isn't a stranger but still, you don't know him that well.

But why shouldn't you have fun? You both want this. You've had enough time to think about this, to make sure this is what you want and it is.

Your thoughts are interrupted by Yoongi's fingers brushing against your clothed heat, your breath hitching in your throat at the foreign but also familiar feeling. His fingers feel different, but the feeling of warmth that spreads there is familiar. He rubs you through your panties, luckily you've decided to wear your nice ones which are still kind of plain but at least there's a little lace on the edges. Both of your shirts stay on your bodies, your hands fumbling with Yoongi's belt. Your throat is dry, in desperate need to feel more.

When he hears your whimper, he tucks a finger under the hem of your panties before he looks up at you in question, seeing you nod before you desperately tell him to take them off. He does, cold air hitting your arousal but you're too distracted with pulling Yoongi's jeans down as you see his bulge in his dark blue boxers. You're not going to lie, you're pleased that he's as aroused as you're. You had your doubts though, you don't know why. It's still unbelievable that this is happening.

You cup him through his boxers hearing a soft gasp as you squeeze him. He impatiently jerks his hips into your hand, ignoring the little smirk you make sure he sees. He glares at you, rubbing your clit in circles as it's your time to gasp. He grins at you, raising a brow at you. It's better to ignore him, you think as you pull him out of his undergarments. Your throat gets dry again, too pleased with seeing an actual dick. It makes you sound as if you were a hungered woman for some dick. You're not. Just horny and sexually frustrated.

You give him a few lazy strokes, making sure you spread his pre-cum leaking from the tip over his mushroom head to make it more pleasing for him. You smirk when he groans into your neck as his breath hits your skin there. Suddenly, he drops on his knees looking up at you from the floor as you stare at him surprisingly.

He doesn't say anything, simply spreading your legs as you happily comply. You can't believe you feel an ounce of nervosity when you catch him staring at your heat. There's no doubt he sees your juices spread all over it, he could feel it when he started rubbing your clit. Somewhere back in your mind, you pat yourself for shaving this morning.

"Fuck, it's been a while since I've seen pussy." he breathes out, licking his lips as you stare with widened pupils.

"That's probably the best and only compliment you ever gave me." you muse, sitting further onto the desk as he looks up at you with a mischievous grin.

"Don't get used to it." he mutters, hands grabbing your thighs.

You don't dwell onto this too much, but his touch is more automatic. It feels nice but it's automatic and you can feel that there's no crazed and longed desire for each other. You're there to simply make each other feel good, you're aware that this won't repeat again. It's happening because of current circumstances.

"Wasn't planning to." you point out, gasping when he finally puts his mouth onto your clit.

One thing has to be said. Yoongi is freaking good at using his mouth, making you see stars as you finally feel something other than your own hand (which you've failed at) or the stupid sex toy Jungkook bought for you. It's good to feel someone else touching you. You feel his tongue lapping onto your clit and juices, tasting you. It doesn't take long for you to feel the burn between your legs and the pit of your stomach, your hands slightly nudging away Yoongi's face. It's too soon.

Yoongi looks at you, almost annoyed that you haven't allowed him to make you cum, though still glancing at you with curiosity.

"I want your fingers." you tell him, in a desperate need to feel stuffed. As much as his mouth is amazing, wondering when was the last time he's been eating out a pussy, you need to feel something inside of you. Even if it's not his dick, you've to feel at least his fingers. This way you can pleasure him too.

"Demanding stuff now, I see." he chuckles, but happily complies and stands up to his feet.

You see him licking his lips as he scoots closer to you, sucking onto your neck while you feel his fingers circling your hole. You gasp, not wanting to waste a time as you take his length into your hand and start pumping him. The first moment he enters you with his fingers is unbelievable, leaving you moaning as his dark hair rubs against your cheek, his lips busy kissing your neck. He stretches you good with his three fingers, pumping them fast as he feels you tightening around them.

"Fuck, no wonder your friend kept fucking you."

Perhaps in other situations you feel scandalized that he's bringing up Jungkook into this. Especially if your hand is wrapped around his dick and his fingers inside you. Shockingly, you're not. The thought of thinking about Jungkook in the middle of this makes you even tighter. If Yoongi notices, he doesn't call you out on it and sets an even quicker pace. You do the same thing, his pre-cum making your hand around him more comfortable as you keep jerking him off with faster pace.

Your and Yoongi's moans, along with the slick sounds coming from your heat and Yoongi's fingers, are the only sounds in Yejun's office. Oh fuck, hopefully he won't know about this. Would you get fired if he knew? Will Yoongi tell him? You shake off these thoughts, wanting to enjoy the pleasure while it lasts because you can feel the familiar burn. Chasing after your orgasm, your hand is focused on Yoongi's dick while the other one is gripping his shoulder for some support, while your hips buckle into his hand.

"Fuck, I'm coming."

Yoongi doesn't comment, already recognizing you tightening and loosening the pace of your hand as a sign over you close to the edge.

"Then come." he grunts at you, gently biting into your neck. Few more thrusts of his long and slick fingers, you're coming undone underneath them as you moan out low 'fuck'.

Yoongi slows down his pace and fucks you through your orgasm, his own hips shuttering as you're reminded of his hardened length. It pulsates, still wanting to chase his own end as you grip him harder and start jerking him off. You notice him looking down, not at your hand gripping his dick as you expect him. His eyes are focused on your heat, watching your juices and cum dripping down from your tight hole as his eyes darken. You smirk, spreading your legs wider to let him see.

"You like that?" you chuckle, getting a response in the form of a grunt.

"Fuck," he moans, his hips completely freezing as you quicken your pace knowing he's already there. "Fuck!" he groans, throwing his head back as he's cumming all over your stomach, the skin there hidden by your shirt.

His body almost falls on yours, your arms wrapping around his frame as he holds himself against the edge of the desk. "Fuck, sorry." he murmurs, clearing his throat as he straightens himself.

"What for?" you ask, letting your legs relax as a cold air hits you again.

"I ruined your shirt." he says, pointing at your shirt. You see as the fabric soaks some of his seed, still the very visible stain of his cum.

"I'm used to you guys ruining my clothes," you joke, shaking your head at him when you see him looking at you confusingly. You know what you mean, your little comment mainly amusing you as you stand up.

There's no point in going any further. You're both content with how this ended, the look in both eyes says it all as you give yourselves a nod.

"This won't be awkward between us, right?" you ask, just to be sure. Reaching for your jeans, Yoongi does the same thing as he tucks his soft length back into his boxers.

He hands you your panties, getting a casual 'thanks' from you. "Not if you make it awkward." he simply says, causing you to nod.

This is not the first time Yoongi has done something like this. He's pretty much casual about this whole thing, not looking affected by the fact he pleasured his annoying co-worker, you. You're not affected by it as you thought you'd be too. But still, you can't believe you just gave him a handjob while he ate you out and fingered you. It's better if you don't overthink this, you don't even want to.

"Okay, see you at work?" you ask, putting a hoodie over your shirt as you mentally cringe when you feel the wet fabric.

"Not to look like I'm clingy because I'm not," he starts, "But let's go in a cab together." Oh, right. He has drank so he can't drive. Even though he looks completely fine and it looks like the handjob completely has sobered him up, you both know he drank and it's not safe to risk it.

"Why?" You probably have an idea but you're genuinely curious.

"It's too late for you to go in a cab alone." he simply says, giving you a weird look that tells you 'what's the big deal?'.

Deciding it's fun to tease him, you grin at him as he stares at you dumbfoundedly. "Aw, one look at my pussy and you're worried?" you coo at him.

He doesn't look amused at all, glaring at you as he scoffs. "This is why I mainly stick to dicks." he mutters, already turning around and ready to leave.

"Yeah, because you're one of them." you say behind him, seeing him flicking you off while turned to you with his back.Your evil laugh resounds in the club while Yoongi makes sure everything is in its place and lights are turned off, while you call the two of you a cab. See? It is possible to sleep with someone and not catch any feelings, it can be strictly physical. You and Jungkook are proof of it. And now you and Yoongi are another proof of it. And you don't care what anyone else has to say about it.

[xan-izme]

Dubble Life (ACTSV x reader x Batfam) 4

Summary: Reader made a promise to never let Spider-Woman out. Knowing the dangers of putting that mask on. Reader is starting off fresh now, and they will be damned if anyone tries to have you pull that mask down your face again.

Part 3 Part 5

TW: break downs, mentions of past trauma, mentions of mental health

"Just listen to me!" Gwen was following you as you were still franticly searching for Damian.

"Bug off Gwen. Don't need the society's shit right now." You spoke harshly. Gwen sighed as she watched your stressed expression switch between worry and frustration.

Gwen stopped and spoke. "I know your probably still hurting. But New York needs Spider Woman. Your uncle and Miles can't hold Brooklyn down forever." You paused and turned your head to the blonde.

"More anomalies are showing up. The Prowlers aren't fit to control them. If this keeps up, who knows what will happen." Gwen was staring at you with those big blue eyes of her's.

You always used to like looking into Gwen's eyes. Her eyes always held this kind of sadness in them, sadness you and her connected with. But no, you see no connection. At least not the same as before.

". . .I'm sorry Gwendy. But I don't have time for this."

You made sure the coast was clear before shooting a web to a nearby building and land in an alleyway.

After nearly two hours of searching for Damian and nearly having a break down. Alfred was able to find you and inform you that Damian was safe and was currently with Bruce. Damian had wanted to stay with Bruce. And you decided to go back to the manor.

"Don't do that again Damian. You can't just leave your sister like that." Bruce scolded his son for making you worry. Knowing you must have been freaking out with the way he had disappeared. Damian sighed.

"If she's cross with me, then I'll tell her I went back for this." Damian lifted up an album. Bruce frowns in confusion. Because how the hell is a Boney M album going to calm you down?

"Lady Y/n. Is there anything you need before-"

"No Alfred! I just need some rest; I'll be in my room." You rushed up the stairs. And slammed your room door.

You finally took a seat on your bed. A second passed, and your breathing started to pick up, a minute passed, and your eyes began to sting from the incoming tears that seem to build up until your eyes couldn't hold them any longer, letting the tear drops fall.

It wasn't long till you became a sobbing mess.

it was too much. Emotions you didn't know were still in you started to burst out of control. You were a crying mess.

Why?

Were you stressed?

Or is it that you miss your family back in New York?

Were you upset seeing Gwen? Was seeing her bring back memories that you didn't want to see? Memories of people you don't want to remember?

No. . . that's not it, is it.

It was what happened with Damian. How he let your hand go, and just disappeared. It's funny, you don't really like the boy. Well, his attuited is what you distaste the most. But you were crying, because you thought you almost lost him.

You were scared you almost let someone who was your blood, your kin, die.

What a silly thought. Don't be thinking these things. Suck it up, you keep doing this and let these feelings show to the family. They won't be happy. If they aren't happy because you're not happy. You'll ruin the mood.

So, suck it up, you thought to yourself. Forget those silly thoughts, forget that knot you feel in your chest. Because your Y/n Morals- . . . Wayne. Y/n Wayne.

And this family, this manor. Is your fresh start. Your new beginning. And in order to make sure this new life of yours is to keep them safe. Make sure Spider-woman is never involved in their lives. Make sure they live.

Hours passed. There was no dinner time tonight. Which you were thankful for. You washed up and got yourself ready for bed.

Your phone began to ring. You stared at the contact number.

Miles👾

You took in a shaky breath and answered the call.

"Hey. . .you good?"

You smiled in relief from hearing your cousins voice.

"Yea. . . did you need something? Is Tia Rio, okay?" You questioned. Worried by the way Miles spoke.

"No- I mean yes! yes Mami's alright, It just . . ."

Your eyes squint, getting curies, and a little worried as to what was the matter.

"Just what?" Your voice seemed to have snapped Miles out of whatever train of thought he had.

"One of those people, a woman. Jess, she said her name was. She stopped by here. Saying she had a package for you."

You felt your heart stop for a second. Why the hell was Jess there.?

"A-and I heard her talking to dad. She claimed she was a doctor you and your mom used to go to. Sis, she was saying some shit bout you being mentally ill. And it looks like Dad and Mami bought it."

You began cussing at whatever caused this to happen.

"I just wanted to give you a heads up. Mami's going to drop off the package tomorrow at noon. She'll most likely bring it up to Bruce."

You sighed. You can handle this. You just have to observe, be patent and don't jump too early. Make sure to make the right moves. One wrong move, especially in front of Tia Rio. It's game over.

"Thanks bro. Goodnight, love you." You say as you lean on your desk. Your posture made it clear that you were absolutely exhausted for the day.

"Love you too. Good luck."

Miles hung up and you were once again alone with the silence in your room. You grabbed a CD and popped it in the CD player. You had to keep yourself distracted.

You needed to be distant from those silly thoughts. But don't float away now, you have to plan on how things are going to be tomorrow.

You want to jump and go straight into why in the hell did Jessica Drew go to Miles's house. A place you had made clear was off limits. You had informed Jess and Peter B that the places where your family is, are off-limits. Meaning Uncle Aarons apartment, Miles's apartment and the Wayne Manor in Gotham.

But for now, focus on the challenges that are in front of you now.

The next day came around. Damian had apologized and gave you a album as an apology.

You ended up forcing him to watch a horrible rom com just to get something out of it. And you did.

"That was stupid, and I'm never doing this again."

You laughed at Damian's words. The boy was truly fun to watch. A second past before you two heard a knock. You both look at the doorway to see Alfred.

"Lady Y/n. Your aunt is here to see you." The man said.

You began to mentally prepare yourself as you stood up and walked off to your room, that was where Alfred led Rio to wait for you.

As Rio was waiting for you. She took a look at your room. Your books were organized on the bookshelf. Pictures of you and Miles when you two were younger on the walls. One picture was on your nightstand. It was of her sister, your mother.

Rio didn't know you were seeing a therapist. Well, after what happened with that friend of yours a few years back. You did need it.

You just seemed so happy, even after that incident. But Rio now knows that you were only so happy because of your mother. After she died, Rio hasn't heard your laugh in a while.

The door to your room opened. You smiled, walking towards Rio with a smile.

Rio hugged you tight. She pulled away and saw how tired you look. She cups your face in worry.

"Oh, my baby. You look tired, have you been sleeping? Are you eating well? How about Bruce? Is he being good to you? I sware if he is not-" You chuckled and held both of her hands and kept them close to you.

"I'm okay, Bruce is nice. He's been spoiling me actually."

Rio calmed down and nods "And sleep? Hija mía, parece que no has dormido."

"Ah, I fell behind my studies last week and have been working to catch up. Don't worry I'm good now. My grades are safe!"

Rio smiled and sighed in relief. "I came here to drop this off. Your Therapist, Mrs. Drew?" Rio took out a box that was a size of a jewelry box. You took it and set it down on your nightstand.

"Honey is-. . ." You waited for what Rio was going to say. Was she going to ask about that 'theripist' of yours? Whatever Jess said, it seems to have made Rio upset.

"Is Bruce here? I need to speak to him."

You sighed and shook your head "Sorry, he's still at work." Rio nods and just smiled again as she gave your hand a squeeze before letting go. You and Rio went downstairs so you could walk her to her car.

"Oh! I almost forgot to tell you. Your uncle has got a new position now. He's going to be captain!" Rio smiled widely as she told you news.

You smiled and grabbed her hand. You kissed the back of her hand gave it a tight squeeze "Thats amazing"

You were spacing out. It looked like you were staring at something but thinking of nothing. But you were thinking of a lot of things. You wanted to live peacefully. Is that selfish?

Being Spider-Woman was amazing. You felt strong, felt like you could overcome anything that came your way. And protect loved ones made you feel safe. Knowing that you could protect them, made you feel safe.

But after your mother. After finding out the truth from Miguel. You didn't feel safe, you no longer felt like you could keep your loved ones or anyone around you safe. Not when you have that mask on.

So, you gave up the mask, made sure that without a Spider woman in your universe, things wouldn't go to hell. But every time, every time you thought things were okay, thought that everyone was safe from Spider Woman. The society keeps coming to ruin it. You had to find a way to stop them.

"Y/n? Hello?"

You snapped out of your train of thought. "Huh? Oh, sorry Damian, what were you saying?" You leaned in on your palm and gave your brother a smile.

"Movie. I'm bored." The boy bluntly said. You paused and began to process what he said. You smiled warmly and walked with Damian to the screen room.

You swear to all the gods, you won't let the mask take what you have left.

[torukmaktoskxawng]

our paths crossing

Pairing: Tsu’tey x Avatar!Reader + Adopted!Spider

Summary: Tsu’tey is given a second chance at life, but not even Eywa could convince him to accept it. 

Word Count: 9k+

Warnings: single mom power, generational trauma, parental manipulation (tsu’tey’s parents suck), fluff

Na'vi words used: pa'li - direhorse, nivi - hammock, olo'eyktan - clan leader, ikran - mountain banshee, Iknimaya - Rite of Passage, marui - home, oel ngati kameie - I See you, taronyutsyìp - little hunter, teylupil prrnen - teylu face baby, niktsyey - food/leaf wrap, tsaheylu - bond, sa'nok - mother, Uniltaron - Dream Hunt, irayo - thank you, tawtute - human, tswin - queue braid, maitan - my son, sa'sem - parents, taronyu - hunter, tsahik - spiritual leader, tsakarem - tsahik in training, meresh'ti cau'pla - banshee catcher

A/N: This was heavily inspired by other Tsu’tey works written by @simps256 @byunpum @shu-box-puns and @little-box-of-autism on Tumblr, and @ AlexiHollis on Ao3

~~~~~~~~~

PANDORA, 2154+

Everything is connected, one way or another. From the tiny stem of a plant, to the pa'li that steps on it, and to the ginormous tree looming over it. Pandora is made up of various different sizes of networks, from microscopic to gigantic. Some are easier to see than others. The network of tree branches and roots is clearly visible, but there are small ones, not physically distinct, and Eywa can see it all as clear as day.

The same goes for two souls. When two Na'vi-- when two souls mate, they are mated for life. It won't matter if they met when they were children or if their paths meet when they are old and wrinkled. Two souls are still two souls, meant for each other no matter how or when they meet.

Tsu'tey, like all Na'vi, believed this to be true. Sylwanin was the soul meant for him, ever since they were children. However, Eywa had other plans in mind for the young couple and destiny tragically separated them, forever shattering their former entwined paths. Later in life, Tsu'tey finally accepted that all things happen for a reason, and perhaps in another life, Sylwanin would have been his mate. But in this life, Eywa protects the balance of it all and in order for Jake Sully to one day arrive and save this beautiful world, beautiful souls like Sylwanin would have to be sacrificed. Tsu'tey came to terms with this one day, weeks after the battle against the Sky People.

He had plenty of time to think about many things, lying in his nivi and resting from his injuries. As Toruk Makto, Jake happily took temporary command of the Omatikaya clan whilst their olo'eyktan healed from his wounds. It would be a long journey for Tsu'tey, but those who respect him and call him 'brother' were just happy he survived that fall and all those gunshots. At first, he was not as happy or even relieved. Why would Eywa deny him the chance to see Sylwanin again? As he took time to heal, he eventually mourned properly for the first time in years and was able to heal mentally as well as physically. Tsu'tey had finally managed to let his young love go, may she rest in peace.

In return for his loyalty and devotion, Eywa rewarded her olo'eyktan with a gift fit for a good man. However, it would be years before he graciously accepted it.

Tsu'tey was always aware of the other sky demons possessing Na'vi bodies. He had seen many over the years, especially when he was just a student in Grace Augustine's school. He had always found them strange and ugly and didn't hesitate to let Jake know how he felt about his appearance. Jake never took it to heart and eventually learned to laugh at such comments. Tsu'tey grimaced, almost hating the fact that Jake was getting used to him. The other dreamwalkers --"Avatars, brother, they're called avatars,"-- never really got used to him but they greatly respected him, especially after Tsu'tey allowed them to live among the Omatikaya once the rest of the Sky People were sent off-world. He had accepted these 'scientists' and 'avatars' into his village, much to Toruk Makto's influence, and so therefore, over time, Tsu'tey began to treat them all as part of the People-- his people.

As he accepted the sky demons, he also began to learn their names. One of which he was always aware of but had never bothered to learn her name.

Y/n was an avatar driver and a scientist. Even though she hadn't been on Pandora for long, she had been allowed to visit Hometree several times before its destruction, always tagging along when either Grace or Norm Spellman visited. She was part of the young group of scientists who had received an avatar before the battle against the Sky People that actively cut off the scientists' funding to make more, therefore she would be one of the last of them, as would Norm and Jake. In many ways, it was like watching the end of a species that would cease to exist once the avatars all died out. That is until children like Kiri and Lo'ak were born.

By the time Neytiri bore Jake their first son and had adopted Grace's daughter born of mysterious circumstances, Tsu'tey had begun to notice that Y/n was not just a random avatar who opted to stay on Pandora. She had also opted into becoming a mother.

It was safe to say Tsu'tey didn't know of Spider's existence firmly because the baby wasn't old enough to wear a mask and exo-pack yet, therefore he had never visited the village. It wasn't until the fierce olo'eyktan followed Jake to the functional biolab of Hell's Gate one day did he finally meet the next generation of Sky People. At first, Spider was strange to him. With a full head of yellow curls, pink skin, and a gummy smile, Tsu'tey gained enough willpower not to verbally comment about how the sky demons' offspring were even uglier than the avatars. Jake had asked him to be civil prior to this meeting, so he indulged his brother out of respect for Toruk Makto.

If Y/n had seen how put-off Tsu'tey was by her son, she didn't mention it. In fact, she barely acknowledged the clan leader, instead devoting her time to making sure her adventurous toddler didn't get into any trouble. Much to all the scientists' dismay, the child had learned to run before he could walk, therefore the attempts to baby-proof the whole place had been frantic and half-assed at best. But wherever Spider ran, Y/n was not too far behind him, always making a game of the chase and making the toddler laugh until his sides hurt.

From what Tsu'tey had learned, Spider is not Y/n's child by blood. The baby had been left behind when the Sky People left, too young for space travel. Everyone was positive that his biological mother was killed during the Battle of the Hallelujah Mountains, and as for his father... from vague descriptions, Tsu'tey had gathered who the man was and decided not to ask any further. Now, in replace of Spider's biological parents came Y/n. Even though the scientists were all more than happy to help raise the kid together as a village, Y/n had become his sole guardian, claiming that Spider should always have that one person to rely on before all others. She had gone on record stating that the boy needs a mother before a village and he shouldn't be treated as an object or a pet the Sky People pass around. No one questioned her, especially when shown how everything she does she does it for the boy and not for her own selfish needs. The scientists all proudly took the roles of aunts and uncles to the boy, but by all rights except blood, Y/n was Spider's mother. She fed and bathed the baby, clothed him, nurtured him, and sang songs to get him to sleep. Sure, she would let the other scientists help with Spider if she needed to take her avatar out for a drive, but she was determined to be Spider's family when no one had formally stepped up.

Even though he didn't realize it back then, Tsu'tey had come to greatly admire Y/n for her sacrifice and determination to raise a child all on her own. She didn't expect anyone to help and she took motherhood in stride. She acted as if she was always meant to be a mother and she had been waiting for this moment her whole life. After first meeting Spider, Tsu'tey wouldn't visit Hell's Gate for some time and didn't often think about the human child or his mother. It would be years before Tsu'tey is reacquainted with them, their paths crossing once more, and only because Spider was finally old enough to wear a mask.

PANDORA, 2163

Spider was nine years old when he first donned a breathing mask and ventured out into the vast world of Pandora, leaving the square walls of the biolab behind him. The scientists had made it into a whole celebration like it was his birthday, providing gifts of Na'vi-make and even a cake before he got too antsy and was ready to go outside. His mother was equally excited for him. Dawning her avatar, Y/n brought Spider outside after triple-checking that his mask was firmly in place. She first let the boy wander into the treeline a little bit to get the feeling of grass beneath his feet and let him try to climb the trees like the little spider monkey he was named after. He had struggled to climb the first couple of tries but managed to get the hang of it before Y/n took him on a ride aboard her ikran that she had tamed only a few years prior.

While Norm was able to gain a banshee not long after the war, Y/n had decided to wait out her training to become a Na'vi warrior due to raising a human child who couldn't go everywhere with her. Once Spider was old enough not to need his mother every minute of the day, she finally felt comfortable with occasionally leaving Hell's Gate and learning the ways of the Omatikaya. The start of her Iknimaya went smoothly due to the number of teachers she had, and eventually, she came home flying her very own ikran. Spider squealed and laughed from his bedroom window at the sight of the creature, already in love as if his mother had just brought a stray cat home. Y/n immediately sat her son down to gently let him know that an ikran is not a pet and demands respect and space. However, the ikran appeared more than happy to act like the family pet, curiously watching Spider from behind the window and resting right underneath said window whenever the creature wasn't out flying.

And when Spider was finally allowed to go outside, the boy and ikran finally got to officially meet. It was like watching a rescued animal find its forever home. Immediately cozying up and trusting the nine-year-old, the ikran allowed Spider to hug its whole face in his arms while jumping up and down happily. With excitement, Spider begged his mother to take him on a ride and finally, he got to learn what it was like to fly.

Y/n immediately flew Spider to the village so he can lay eyes on all the Na'vi for the first time. The People were happy to greet the child after hearing so many stories from his mother. The Omatikaya had grown to love Y/n and the other scientists as part of the People once they had begun to learn the Na'vi way and tame their own banshees, so when the Na'vi were finally introduced to Spider, it was like meeting the first grandbaby of the family! Everyone wanted to hold Spider due to the fascination of the fact he was still so small at his age, and the kid happily ate up all the attention. Through his excitement, he kept jumping between languages when speaking, but most of the Omatikaya were able to grasp the boy's words with ease and would respond in kind. Eventually, Y/n managed to bring her kid to the Sully marui without too many people resisting, and so Spider got to meet his best friends for the first time.

Jake and Neytiri excitedly welcomed Spider, hugging him and dragging him inside like he was a nephew who had been far away from home for far too long. Y/n followed them into the home, smiling fondly as Spider was introduced to Neteyam, Kiri, and Lo'ak. All three Sully kids were very bug-eyed and curious about this new friend. And for the first time since arriving in the village, Spider was suddenly shy with all the attention he was getting. He ran back to Y/n and hid behind her legs, nervously holding her tail while peeking at the kids behind his mask. The adults all laughed while the Sully kids continued to ask Spider questions until finally, he got comfortable enough to come out of hiding. Y/n and Spider stayed for dinner that evening after the kids begged their parents to let them stay so Spider could play. Once they got over poking and prodding Spider with interest, the two Na'vi boys and girl kept dragging him everywhere, frantically wanting to show him all their toys and favorite hiding spots, acting like he was leaving forever the moment he and Y/n would eventually step out of their home. The adults calmly remind the children that now that Spider is big enough to wear a mask, both he and Y/n would be coming back to the village as many times as they want, but that didn't convince the kids to slow down.

Tsu'tey was invited to dinner as well, but due to his responsibilities, he arrived late and could only stay for a little while. Y/n happily greeted him like an old friend -they had only met a few times over the years-, pressing her fingers to her forehead and lowering them in his direction, "Olo'eyktan. Oel ngati kameie."

Tsu'tey gestured in response out of respect but otherwise said nothing. Had he still been younger and just a warrior, Tsu'tey would've been able to help mentor Y/n during her Iknimaya trials. But due to being olo'eyktan now, he had to hand down those responsibilities to someone who had the time to do so, therefore his meetings with Y/n were far, and few in-between. As she was training, there were communal dinners where both parties were cordial to one another, entertaining small talk but otherwise keeping their respective distance. Y/n had become closer to Jake, Neytiri, and their growing family, therefore she and Tsu'tey saw each other more than usual but still in passing, like two ships in the night. Tsu'tey was like a teacher and an uncle to the Sully children, while Y/n was becoming to be a friend of the family. Now that Spider was in the picture, Tsu'tey had a feeling he had not seen the last of the mother and son.

If everyone thought Spider was shy meeting the Sully kids, they had not seen Spider meeting Tsu'tey. The boy immediately straightened his back and froze like a deer in headlights. Despite being shy and refusing to say a word, the human child looked at Tsu'tey in awe of him, recognizing his station as the clan leader of the Omatikaya. Y/n laughed and gathered her son up in her arms when he couldn't move, facing Tsu'tey so both Na'vi man and human child could get a better look at each other, "Spider, this is Tsu'tey te Rongloa Ateyo'itan. You've met before, but you were too little to remember. He is olo'eyktan. Do you remember what we say when greeting someone new?"

Under Tsu'tey's stare, Spider's hand shook as he brought his tiny fingers to the top brim of his breathing mask before lowering it in the Na'vi man's direction, speaking just above a whisper, "O-- Oel ngati kameie..."

The marui is silent and the boy waits with bated breath. To Spider's credit and everyone's amazement, Tsu'tey thinly smiled and made the same hand movement back to the child, "You speak very good, taronyutsyìp. Your mother and other caretakers have taught you well."

Spider's frozen shock had broken in exchange for a large, beaming wide smile, staring at Tsu'tey as if the man had just handed him the world. Y/n smiled at her adorable son's reaction and gratefully nodded to Tsu'tey before the moment was broken by none other than Jake's teasing, "How come you weren't complimenting me when I was learning, brother?"

"Because you were a teylupil prrnen who had to hold Neytiri's hand every step of the way," Tsu'tey was quick to respond but made sure to only speak in a hushed voice which only the adults could hear.

Neytiri playfully scolded Tsu'tey for his language and shoved a small niktsyey into his hands before he could leave, all the children confused as to why both Jake and Y/n were laughing to the point they had missed Tsu'tey sneaking out of the pod.

~~~~~~~~~

That was indeed, not the last time Tsu'tey would see Y/n and Spider. The next time they visited the village was a week later, and Tsu'tey wasn't even aware of their presence until his evening tasks were disrupted by a small force running into his legs and hugging them tightly. Startled into looking down, Tsu'tey found Little Spider, not even standing up to the height of the chief's knees, clinging to his strong blue legs for dear life while beaming up at him through his mask. Spider laughed due to Tsu'tey's reaction and paid no mind to his mother when she finally arrived. Tsu'tey didn't even notice Y/n until she stood in front of him, looking guilty and apologetic.

"Forgive me, ma olo'eyktan. He didn't want to go home until he got to see you."

Her ears pinned back against her head, tail drooping as she stared anxiously at the usually fierce and stone-faced clan leader. She looked tired, likely from a long day of following her child everywhere while he went on these new, exciting adventures around the village and surrounding forest. Y/n had volunteered to take Spider and the Sully kids to the nearby river so they could play and let off some steam. Jake and Neytiri had gratefully accepted the offer, ready to have some time away from their children for the first time in years. One look at the female avatar and Tsu'tey could tell just how drained she had been from watching all four children who barely grasp the idea of being 'careful.'

Years later, Tsu'tey will not be able to recall what came over him, but in a split-second decision, he bent down and scooped the little human boy into his arms, much to Spider's delight who squealed and laughed happily. To no one's surprise, the pink-skinned child was lighter than a basket of banana fruit and didn't struggle when Tsu'tey lifted him up over his head until the boy was sitting on his strong, broad shoulders. Spider dutifully grabbed onto Tsu'tey's braids to stay upright, eyes widening in joy and wonderment as he looked around, seeing the world from a new height that Spider could only dream of.

Tsu'tey made no sound to acknowledge his decision, despite already clocking a few bystanders who had stopped to stare at their olo'eyktan in shock before he turned to Y/n, speaking as blunt and firm as always, "He has seen me. Now let's get him to your ikran."

Initially surprised, Y/n could only nod and obediently led the Na'vi man in the direction of the claimed ikran rookery. They walked in silence apart from Spider's ramblings, beaming and waving down at all the Na'vi they passed by. Tsu'tey stubbornly ignores the stares, keeping his head held high and his gaze ahead of him, still exuding the confident, proud walk of a chief without ever acknowledging the sky demon child sitting up on his shoulders. Spider wasn't bothered by his silence, still babbling about all the things he did today and excitedly exclaiming how he couldn't wait until next time. They finally walk up to Y/n's ikran and without a word, she formed tsaheylu and expertly hopped up into her saddle, bending down to accept Spider from Tsu'tey once the man plucked the kid from his shoulders. Taking this time to admire the handiwork Y/n put into making her ikran's saddle as she secured her son in front of her, Tsu'tey nearly made a fool of himself by staring and immediately shook out of his thoughts.

"Now, boy," Tus'tey spoke carefully, lowering his voice so as not to startle the child as he stepped away from the banshee, eyeing Spider with a stern expression, "Be good for your sa'nok the rest of the night. Do not give her trouble and do as your told."

"Yes, sir!" Spider puffed out his chest and dutifully nodded, excited to follow an order straight from the Omatikaya's olo'eyktan.

Y/n huffed in amusement before flashing Tsu'tey a small smile of gratitude, "Thank you, Tsu'tey."

"Get some rest, my friend," Tsu'tey firmly nods back, "That's an order."

To his internal surprise, Y/n laughs, and even though he was confused, Spider laughed with her. Tsu'tey didn't react to their laughter, every muscle in his face coming together to keep as firm and as serious as he could manage. He wasn't sure when was the last time a woman laughed at something he said. Normally, no one laughed at Tsu'tey, believing he was too serious and he was taken as seriously as one could manage. It wasn't as though he was trying to be funny, but it was like Y/n could see something behind his eyes that told her that at this very moment, she didn't have to treat him as the clan leader. Perhaps it was the way he called her 'friend' that made her realize that she didn't have to be so formal around him. Either way, he didn't plan on correcting her manners.

Tsu'tey couldn't remember when they eventually flew away, back to Hell's Gate. He could only remember standing there like an idiot even after the mother and son were out of sight, their gentle, sweet laughter still echoing in his ears.

~~~~~~~~~

It became a sort of tradition. After a long day of being in the village, Spider would always escape his mother and run to Tsu'tey every time she told her son it was time to go home. After the first three times he did this, both Tsu'tey and Y/n just silently agreed to go along with it and indulge the child in his little tradition. Every evening Y/n and Spider were visiting the clan, the olo'eyktan could count on the young boy to find him like clockwork, then Tsu'tey will, again, lift Spider up onto his shoulders and follow Y/n back to her ikran.

Tsu'tey noticed that the mother and child were visiting the village more and more and he chalked it up to be because Neytiri had just announced that she was pregnant again. Everyone was ecstatic, especially the children. Knowing that a new baby was on the way, Spider could be spotted around the Sully marui almost every single day. The kid was in awe at the idea of meeting someone who was finally going to be smaller than him, at least for a little while. He also fully ramped the other Sully kids up, getting them to be excited for another little sibling, especially Lo'ak, who was ready to finally be a big brother instead of the youngest.

As tradition goes, the People would gift the expecting parents food and necessities in preparation for the unborn child. It was a good way to help Jake and Neytiri focus on their growing family and pay more attention to their three children instead of worrying about getting much-needed supplies ready for the baby. After Y/n explained this tradition to her son, Spider was determined to also present a gift to Jake and Neytiri, and who else could possibly help him with that but none other than Tsu'tey?

The olo'eyktan helps the boy, despite the nagging voice in the back of his head, and tries his best to help when he has the time. If Tsu'tey is not making his usual errands, he can be found with the human boy who practically drags him through the forest, looking for appropriate items to gift the Sullys. Y/n usually goes with them, never too far from her son, therefore she finds herself in Tsu'tey's company more than she ever has in all the years she's known him. And he doesn't appear bothered by it. In fact, he inwardly looks forward to these small adventures, feeling like a young warrior again who could freely leave the village without too many responsibilities weighing down his shoulders. Either Spider blindly takes the two adults through the trees without any idea of where he was heading, or he lets Tsu'tey take the lead, always excited for where the chief will take them now. The three of them do this for an entire week until Spider presents Neytiri with a beautiful bracelet with six, various different colors of beads to represent how many people will soon be in her family. Neytiri's smile was like starlight, so wide and emotional as she pulls the small boy into her arms, kissing the glass of his mask as tears stream down her cheeks. After Spider asks her why she was crying, she was quick to reassure him that they were happy tears and tells him how much she loved his gift, all the while Tsu'tey and Y/n are standing off to the side, fondly watching this scene take place.

It was an eye-opening moment for the usually fierce, stone-faced olo'eyktan. He had been standing so close to Y/n, closer than he had ever allowed himself to be with anyone, while they both watched Spider beam up at Neytiri and happily ramble about his adventures while finding the perfect beads for his bracelet. As the child explained that Tsu'tey and Y/n always went with him, even Neytiri looked surprised, glancing up at the two other adults with her ears flicking with interest. Tsu'tey swallowed and stood firm, trying not to appear nervous under the Na'vi woman's gaze.

Neither Spider nor Y/n noticed this brief interaction as the boy finally turns back to his mother and the olo'eyktan, remembering their presence and running toward them, cheering, "She liked it! She liked it!"

"I can see that," Y/n smiled, giggling as she bent down to receive Spider, picking him up in her arms without a sweat. Normally, it's a struggle in her human body to lift him up as he continues to grow, but as an avatar, it's like holding a three-year-old again. Oh, how she missed those days.

Still in Y/n's arms, Spider reaches for Tsu'tey, making grabby hands at the man who stood close enough for the boy to touch him. Tsu'tey nearly froze under the boy's attention, his own tongue betraying him when he couldn't find anything to say. It was too domestic, watching the way Spider looked for approval from both Y/n and Tsu'tey. Watching as both Spider's and Y/n's eyes land on him nearly takes his breath away, as if seeing the pair of them through rose-tinted glasses for the first time. And while standing so close, Tsu'tey can almost pretend, just for a moment, that Spider was not just any child, but his, the child wanting to share the events of his day as he had run to both Tsu'tey and his mother like they came as a pair, not just one or the other.

This was the first time Tsu'tey ever realized the gift Eywa was offering to him, but at the time was too cowardly to accept it. Taking one last look at the way Spider leaned his soft pink head on Y/n's blue shoulder, Tsu'tey looked away, purposely engraving the sight of those two small brown and gold pairs of eyes staring questionably up at him.

Even though there was no need to go out into the forest anymore, Tsu'tey still insisted on taking the mother and son out on adventures under the guise that it was time Spider learned how to gather and forage. Tsu'tey firmly stated that the boy needed to recognize certain plants before he could ever learn to become a hunter. Spider perked up at this idea, cheering and running to Neteyam, Kiri, and Lo'ak to brag about his upcoming lessons. Y/n appeared hesitant at first -call it a mother's concern- but eventually accepted the idea, happily tagging along so she could witness her son's first lesson.

One lesson became two, then three, then four, five, and six. Eventually, Tsu'tey had lost count of the number of days he had squeezed in time to teach Spider the ways of the Na'vi. It had been weeks, easily, and he had no intention of stopping. He was exhausted between his usual duties and his newly acquired student, but Tsu'tey would only have to look as far as Spider and Y/n's smiles to think it was all worth it.

Before he knew it, Y/n had fully completed her Iknimaya. After surviving the Uniltaron, she was painted and born a second time as one of the People. The whole clan was happy for her, and even Tsu'tey bore a small but genuine smile as he stood before her as her olo'eyktan and welcomed her into the Omatikaya clan, placing his arms on her shoulders as everyone else followed suit, creating an overflowing circle of Na'vi all around her.

With Y/n being recognized as a member of the clan, Tsu'tey feels a small barrier break between them. Something unspoken had come to light and before he could argue with himself, Tsu'tey had done something he hadn't done in a while.

His carving skills needed improvement after so many years of nonuse, but it was still a talent he possessed. The next time he spotted Y/n and Spider in the village, he boldly approached them without a second thought. Spider saw him first and excitedly ran to Tsu'tey, hugging his legs until the olo'eyktan crouched down to his height. Y/n walked up to them just as Tsu'tey held out his hand to the boy, "For you, Spider."

Spider greedily held out both of his hands with wide, bewildered eyes just as Tsu'tey handed him a simple but perfectly carved wooden pa'li toy. Spider initially stood there, shocked, staring down at the toy while Tsu'tey began to shuffle uncomfortably on his heels, "I understand if you think you are too big for toys--"

His backtracking was quickly interrupted by Spider lunging at him, throwing his little arms around the man's neck before practically squeezing the air out of him. Tsu'tey let out a gust of wind at the impact, unaware that the kid had that much strength in such a small body. It took a moment, but eventually, Tsu'tey began to awkwardly pat the boy on the back while Spider continued to hug fiercely.

Y/n was biting the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling and was failing miserably, the smile stretching far enough to make her facial muscles hurt. Tsu'tey bravely peered up at her and offered his best, closed-mouth smirk, despite still awkwardly holding the child in his arms. Y/n took a deep breath and was able to rein in the smile until it was small and gentle, clearing her throat to get her son's attention, "What do you say, Spider?"

"Thank you. Irayo, " Spider whispered into Tsu'tey's ear before finally pulling away, clutching the pa'li toy in one hand while his mother took the other. Slowly, they both walk away but would occasionally look back at Tsu'tey with those sweet, dazzling smiles that make Tsu'tey feel as though he had just lifted a mountain that was in the mother and son's path. After they disappeared into the crowd, he finally stood back up, stubbornly ignoring all the stares the scene no doubt caused before going about his day as normally as he could.

Once almost every week, Tsu'tey would have something new to offer Spider. It could be a toy, small bracelets, armbands, or even Na'vi child-sized clothes, Tsu'tey would make them all for the small human child. Spider's personal favorite was the small bow, already strung up and carved to his tiny size with equally small, harmless arrows. Over time, Spider was becoming more accustomed to Na'vi culture and started to wear his hair in beads and braids and continuously wore a loincloth. The Sully kids were eager to help Spider form his new style but it wasn't hard to get the supplies, seeing as though Tsu'tey had already provided Spider with everything he needed to complete the look. Each gift was more thoughtful and appreciative than the last, and each time, seeing the look on both mother and child's faces made Tsu'tey feel a thousand times lighter.

He thought he was being subtle, but that was far from the truth. Nearly everyone could see it apart from himself. He knew he had been a fool to believe otherwise when he was abruptly visited by his parents, cornering him in his own marui.

"What is this about you courting a demon?" His mother, Artsut, sternly asked.

"I am not courting anyone." He easily answered without hesitation.

"That is not what we heard. The People say their olo'eyktan has taken a liking to the dreamwalker they call Y/n and her demon child."

"Is that truly what the People say, Mother? Or is it just you?" Tsu'tey accused, eyes narrowed on her, "From what I have seen, the People love Y/n and Spider."

"Spider?" His father, Ateyo, repeated the name on his tongue and screwed up his nose, "What a strange name."

"This is not acceptable," Artsut shook her head, "You should have taken Saeyla as your mate when you had the chance. At least she is one of the People and she would have accepted you."

Tsu'tey nodded in agreement, but kept his face impassive, "Yes. She would have. But I will not have her and she will not have me. She is mated with Ka'ani now."

"You should have chosen her the moment Neytiri ran off to mate with a tawtute."

His eyes darken a shade of color and his parents are quickly reminded that they spoke to the olo'eyktan, one of said tawtute's strongest allies who was quick to defend Jake Sully after years of friendship, "You will not address Toruk Makto in such a way. And I do not want you to ever speak of Y/n as if she is not Omatikaya. She has learned our ways and had successfully completed her Iknimaya. In time, her son will follow her footsteps."

The sneer on his mother's face was potent as ever, "Do you actually believe that a sky demon can complete the task of becoming a warrior when he doesn't even have a tswin? Even if he were to be accepted as one of the People, he will struggle all his life and suffer without the means of bonding with the Forest, the animals, or even other Na'vi! You are olo'eyktan and your duty to the People also involves having heirs to succeed you! Raising this human child alongside this dreamwalker will end your line!"

Her voice had only ever risen higher until his father gently placed a withered hand on her shoulder. Artsut immediately silences herself while Ateyo turns to Tsu'tey, "Maitan. Tell us the truth. Are you courting this woman?"

Tsu'tey grits his teeth, staring both of them down, "I am not."

The words are bitter on his tongue, distasteful. What he would give to say otherwise and make his parents flinch as if in pain. His mother shook her head, her tone quieter but still accusatory, "Others have seen you gift the child many things. Do you think we are blind and deaf? We hear whispers, Tsu'tey. We hear that to win Y/n's heart is to dote on her son. You may not be courting the woman with gifts for her, but you are courting her with gifts for her son."

The marui grew in unpalpable silence. Tsu'tey remained quiet, unable to deny it, but kept his gaze sharp and locked onto Ateyo and Artsut. Ever since he became Eytukan's heir as olo'eyktan, he had learned to stop listening to his parents constantly whispering in his ears. He had quickly realized how poisonous they were, hungry for power, believing they know the will of Eywa better than anyone, even Mo'at. He had thought he had fed their thirst for power after becoming olo'eyktan, but that still wasn't good enough for them. For years now, they have shaped Tsu'tey's younger brother, Arvok, into their preferred image now that their golden son had chosen his own path without their consent. Tsu'tey wished his brother had learned to stop leading by their influence and start forming his own future, but has been unable to advise Arvok to do so, given how busy he is as the clan leader. On top of growing up in Tsu'tey's shadow until recent years, Arvok has no part of himself that their parents didn't twist and manipulate. Arvok was no longer his own person and it broke Tsu'tey's heart to watch from a distance, unable to save his brother from himself.

A wave of guilt washes over Tsu'tey but he strongly holds firm, blatantly refusing to let his emotions show, let alone in front of his sa'sem. He regrets not taking Arvok under his wing. He regrets taking time to be with Y/n and Spider and none to be with his own flesh and blood. Perhaps a small part of himself believed he could help his brother if he could help someone as hopeless as Spider, someone who couldn't truly become one of the People, just like his parents said--

'No. That is not you talking. Already they are trying to spin their words to make it sound like your own. Do not let them poison you.'

His own thoughts drown out all the doubt and regret and so Tsu'tey shakes his head to be rid of them with a deep, dark snarl, baring his fangs at his mother and father, "You forget yourselves. You forget your place. You are right about one thing. I am olo'eyktan, and I don't take orders from you. I will never listen to you or agree with you because every word that falls from your mouth is like a sharp blade in my ears. Your ways are of the past when I, your chief, aim toward the future. By the laws of our people, Y/n is taronyu, and Spider is her son. That is enough for me, and I order you to keep whatever you have to say about that woman and her child to yourselves from now on."

~~~~~~~~~

Despite holding firm against Ateyo and Artsut, Tsu'tey couldn't help but feel sour for the rest of the week about what was said in the confinements of that room. Their lecture plus Eytukan's teachings continued to ring in his ears, unable to let him rest. They were right that as olo'eyktan, it was his duty to find a proper heir to take his place and guide the People after he is gone. He could sire an heir or choose one from the clan, but he must choose wisely, nevertheless.

For years, Tsu'tey never worried about heirs. He was openly adamant in wishing Jake Sully to take his place should something untimely happen to him. Toruk Makto had sons and a daughter with possibly another on the way. At the very least, Jake's line of succession was secure if he was olo'eyktan.

But Tsu'tey was alone.

It didn't help that as olo'eyktan, he was still in need of a mate who would one day become tsahik. Mo'at has made it very clear to him, "I am not getting any younger. I will need at least three seasons to train a woman before she can become tsahik."

Neytiri was no longer tsakarem due to choosing Jake as her mate, and while Kiri was a good option for Mo'at to take under her wing, the young girl was still too young to worry about such responsibility. Tsu'tey was positive that Mo'at would rather have her granddaughter become tsahik over whoever he chose as a mate, but he was positive it was due to favoritism. Mo'at would rather teach family over a stranger, and Tsu'tey couldn't blame her for that. Her own legacy was shattered due to losing her first daughter and becoming estranged from the other, neither of who was capable of becoming tsahik like their mother one day.

The harsh reminder of Sylwanin made Tsu'tey's stomach clench with guilt and despair. He had moved past her death years ago, but at the idea of him finally moving on, the phantom pain returned to make him feel regret all over again.

She was meant to be his mate for life, and this all felt as though he was betraying her.

Tsu'tey let his feet take them to a destination, and they end up leading him to the Sully marui. Inside, Neytiri was alone since Jake decided to take the kids fishing with Spider and Y/n, her baby bump becoming more visible by the day. Looking up and recognizing Tsu'tey, she only held his gaze with a smug, all-knowing expression.

He scowled while walking further into the home, sitting across from her, "I assume you heard the rumors."

She shrugged, smirking, "I think everyone has heard or seen something or other. The question is whether or not it's true."

The man hesitates, unable to form the proper words he wanted to say. Here sat his young love's sister, someone who would know better than anyone how he feels because she suffers the same pain and loss every day. And yet... like Sylwanin, he felt as though he was betraying Neytiri as well, "I... I don't know."

Her gaze narrows at him, surprised and under scrutiny, "You don't know?"

"I thought I did," Tsu'tey confessed, his eyes only gazing at the small fire between them, "I was ready to take and bring both of them into my care."

"Then what's stopping you?" She carefully watches him as they sat in silence, letting it linger and simmer like the meat she had just hung over the fire. When Tsu'tey had yet to look up, Neytiri had discovered the answer on her own, "Sylwanin?"

Solemnly, he nods, "We were promised to each other. It is a promise meant forever."

Her posture relaxes, relenting whatever tease she planned on dishing him out in exchange for pity. Her words were gentle as she spoke, forlorn and sympathetic, "You were not mated yet, Tsu'tey, and it was many, many years ago. You are allowed to grieve, mourn, and miss my sister. But I think she would understand if you had fallen for someone else."

Leaning forward to the best of her ability in her condition, she reaches and grabs tightly onto Tsu'tey's hand. Finally, once his eyes met hers, Neytiri whispered, "She wouldn't want you to be alone forever."

She lets him think about what she said, turning back to the food she was preparing in silence. Neytiri lets Tsu'tey hide away in her home, stewing with his thoughts as the village moves on about their day around them. Before eclipse could even make an appearance, Jake and Y/n return with the children from their fishing trip. Looking up, both Neytiri and Tsu'tey take note of how exhausted all the kids look, especially Spider, who was passed out cold in Jake's arms alongside Kiri.

Jake smiles at his wife before turning to Tsu'tey to properly greet him, "Brother. I'd offer you my arm, but I kinda got my hands full."

"So I see," Tsu'tey huffed, slightly amused at the sight before his gaze flicks over to the woman standing beside Jake, "And how are you, Y/n?"

She appeared startled at the question being directed at her, but quickly covered it up with a soft smile, nodding down to Tsu'tey, "I'm alright, ma olo'eyktan. Thank you."

Neytiri smirked, sparing one glance up at her husband before pretending to absentmindedly hum in thought, "Perhaps if you leave us Spider's spare mask, Y/n, you could leave him here for tonight and have at least a few hours to yourself?"

Both Neteyam and Lo'ak are suddenly wide awake, ears perking up at the mother's intention. Y/n paused, about to open her mouth when Jake beat her to it, "That's not a bad idea. He's already asleep and there isn't a reason to wake him," the female avatar turned to the male one, who's quick to reassure her, "I promise he'll be in good hands. And the kids would love to wake up in the morning to find Spider still here."

Again, the concern Y/n displayed on her face was about to voice her answer before Neteyam spoke up, keeping his voice sweet and soft, "Please, Aunt Y/n? Can Spider stay here tonight?"

Lo'ak chimed in, too, albiet a bit louder, "Can we have a sleepover? Pleeeaase?"

All the adults present quickly shushed the young boy when Kiri and Spider squirmed in their sleep but everyone relaxed when the sleeping children eventually settled back down. Jake moves further into the marui to gently place them down on the mats while Y/n turned around only to be met with two round pairs of pleading gold eyes staring up at her, both Neteyam and Lo'ak poking their bottom lips out for added measure.

Y/n snorts, playfully rolling her eyes, "Well, who could say 'no' to those charming little faces?"

Both the boys silently cheer and run in the direction of the other two sleeping children, anxious to join the growing cuddle pile. Y/n watches them go with amusement before she hands Neytiri the spare mask she always kept hooked around the belt of her cargo shorts, "I'll be back for him early in the morning."

"No need to rush," Neytiri smiled with assurance, "Just stop by for breakfast and you can take him home after."

Jake then proceeds to hand the single mother a throat mic and earpiece, "Just in case we need to contact you or you just wanna talk to him."

Y/n visibly relaxed a little at the lengths both Jake and Neytiri were going just to make her feel comfortable leaving her son with them. She dutifully nods and clips on the throat mic as Tsu'tey stands to meet her, the olo'eyktan tilting his head to the marui exit, "Let's get you to your ikran."

If she found his offer unexpected, she didn't show it and followed Tsu'tey out of the marui, unaware of the knowing look Neytiri was watching them leave with. Once they disappeared, Jake turned to his mate with a confused expression, "What was that about?"

Neytiri's eyes shine with a mischievous gleam behind those golden orbs,  "With any luck, by the end of the night, Spider will officially have a father and we will have our future tsahik."

~~~~~~~~~

Tsu'tey and Y/n mostly walked in silence back to her ikran, the beauty of the night slowly making itself known as eclipse finally arrives. Over the years, Y/n was used to how intense and silent Tsu'tey could be and no longer found these quiet interactions awkward. If anything, the silence was actually comforting.

They approach her ikran and Y/n busies herself by tending to the banshee, comforting the creature when it squawks indignant and trying to look occupied to calm her own nerves. It was possible her ikran could sense said nerves and continued to act belligerent. Eventually, Y/n turned back to the olo'eyktan and nods in gratitude, "Thank you, Tsu'tey. I'll be back again in the morning."

He only nods and so Y/n took it as a sign to take her leave as the silence lingers. Double-checking the straps of her ikran's harness, she swung her leg over the creature and grabbed her queue braid--

"Y/n..."

She looked up, "Yes?"

Concern clouded her mind as Tsu'tey's eyes briefly look away, unable to meet her gaze. His ears flick at the same speed as his eyes, betraying him of his nerves as he spoke, "Do you wish to be courted?"

Befuddled, her eyes narrow cautiously, tilting her head with curiosity. Perhaps she heard him wrong, "What?"

He took a deep breath to steady himself, straightening up to be the taller more regal olo'eyktan she had come to know him. His voice is suddenly more confident and formal as he finally looks up at her, "It would be a great honor, Y/n of the Sky People and of the Omatikaya, if you would allow me to officially court you."

Y/n could initially do nothing but sit there on the back of her ikran, frozen and dumbfounded. The silence that was once so normal and comfortable between them was now intense and tightly wound like a meresh'ti cau'pla. As the avatar woman replayed his words back in her head, she couldn't depict anything else from the proposal other than one singular word, "'Officially?'"

Tsu'tey nods while further explaining, "It was not my intention to let you believe I was only tending to your boy in the hopes of courting you, nor do I wish for you to believe that I expect something from you in exchange for training your son. Spider is a spirited child and he is lucky to have a wonderful woman for his mother. You and your son have shown me what it would look like to be a part of your family and now that I have a taste of it, I want to know more. I wish to court you not just in the hopes of being your mate, but one day-- if you and the boy will have me, I want Spider to one day look up to me as his father."

The confession was something Y/n wouldn't have expected in a million years. It wasn't as though she believed Tsu'tey to be too proud, but as the clan leader he had a reputation to uphold and a responsibility regarding the wellbeing of his people. Immediately her thoughts turned to what other Na'vi might think about their olo'eyktan taking a sky demon as his mate, someone who can walk in two bodies instead of one, an alien whose species would do unspeakable things to cheat death and go against everything Eywa stood for. She never took herself to be an insecure person, but Y/n couldn't help the fear she felt when thinking about what the Na'vi people might think about her son if she decides to allow Tsu'tey to adopt him. Sure, the Omatikaya act as though they love Spider now, but what about when they learn that their olo'eyktan's legacy depends on a boy born from the Sky People?

Despite her fears, she couldn't help but think about how much happier Spider has been around Tsu'tey and the village. Y/n thought about how the boy would suddenly become sad upon returning to the biolab and leaving his friends behind, or how when he adamantly talked, it was only about the Na'vi and the Sully kids and of course whatever Tsu'tey had taught him that day. Though Y/n and the other scientists have tried to teach Spider the ways of the Sky People with the proper education and history of their culture, the kid doesn't want anything to do with Earth and tends to stick with whatever he had learned from the Omatikaya. Over time, Y/n had told the other scientists to give it up, coming to terms that Spider didn't want to learn about where he came from, only about the home he had now and the friends he had gained. Y/n couldn't blame him. Tsu'tey was a better teacher than even Max or Norm when it came to the topics Spider wanted to actually learn about. Tsu'tey was patient but firm. Informative but vigor. On one hand, he would make sure Spider listened and held onto every word he said, but on the other, he was a good listener and would praise Spider for every achievement made in his lessons. Y/n remembered watching them with fondness, amused and delighted by their interactions. As often as she sees her son and the olo'eyktan together, the more she, too wished to see what would happen if she allowed herself to feel something for that man. The man who opened his arms out to selected Sky People, allowing them into his village. The man who took Spider under his wing despite the fact the boy was human and treated him with kindness and respect even though he didn't have to. Tsu'tey has every reason to hate the Sky People and the face Spider wears, but he doesn't, and what Y/n initially thought she felt was admiration for Tsu'tey was actually a growing love for him and his character.

But she had stamped down her feelings because she was afraid of getting Spider's hopes up. She couldn't afford to disappoint her son when he already adores Tsu'tey to no end. When Y/n opened her mouth, she whispered her own confession to the olo'eyktan anxiously waiting for an answer, "... He already does."

She watches as his eyes widen before she made the decision to hop back down from her banshee, closing in the gap between them as she took the necessary steps to stand right before Tsu'tey. She watched his eyes for a moment, looking for something, likely making sure he wasn't joking despite knowing he was the last person on this planet who would. She hadn't realized they were standing so close until she felt the warm air of his breath softly fanning her face, causing her to blink rapidly and clear her throat when her skin began to prickle into a soft blush. Ignoring her brief fluster, she allowed herself to slowly, cautiously lean forward and felt relief when Tsu'tey did as well. Their foreheads faintly touch until their movements became bolder, pressing closer until they were sharing the same tight space and combating the tense air between them. Leaning into him further, Y/n closed her eyes and basked in his embrace, "You really want this?"

His shaky exhale hits her face, her eyelashes briefly twitching but otherwise remaining closed as if afraid to open and see his expression. Tsu'tey's voice was less confident now and more breathless, unable to take in a full gulp of air in this woman's presence. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the closeness, even if only for tonight, he didn't care if it was selfish. He gently gripped her arm as he whispered, wanting to pull her even closer to him than possible, "Yes. By Eywa, yes."

Her lips twitched into a smile at the same time her heart lept in joy, "I accept your proposal."

Faintly patting his chest, she then pulled away, both of them opening their eyes and smiling shyly at one another. Y/n blindly backs away to reach her ikran, unwilling to look away until the last second, "I'll see you in the morning."

~~~~~~~~~

Also heavily inspired by illustrations called ‘our paths crossing’ by kening zhu

Lemme know if you would like a Part 2! I was hoping to write more for this but it was starting to get long, so you decide if it should continue! Also leave a request in my inbox but be sure to check up on the rules first. Thank you!

[wchswift]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤAPPLE PIE! READER

Introducing Eve. . . she’s soft smiles and sugar-sweet words, a warm hand wrapped around your wrist, and the scent of cinnamon lingering in the air. She wasn’t supposed to be, not like this—not with a heartbeat, a body, and a mind that won’t stop wondering. But here she is, craving sugary things, wandering bookstores she can’t read in, and wondering why Dean Winchester looks at her like he’s met his soulmate. Her name being a reference, like the first woman, the one who started it all. Fitting, considering she was his first choice every damn time.

One thing’s for sure: she might not be a pie anymore, but she’ll always be his favorite.

🥧˚｡⋆ Apple Pie!Reader didn’t ask to be human, but here she is. One second, she was a warm, golden-crusted masterpiece in a tin. The next, she was standing in Dean Winchester’s kitchen, barefoot, confused, and craving sugar like her life depended on it.

🥧˚｡⋆ Apple Pie!Reader exists because of magic, but not a curse. The apples in her recipe came from a supernatural orchard—tied to emotions, longing, and home. Dean’s deep, unspoken need for comfort and something permanent gave her life. She is not a monster, not a trick—just… her.

🥧˚｡⋆ She's not a curse but a gift—though Dean would argue that waking up to a woman in his kitchen wearing his flannel and smelling like pie is very confusing.

🥧˚｡⋆ She is always warm. Not hot, not uncomfortable—just cozy. Like she just stepped out of the oven, radiating the kind of warmth that makes people unconsciously lean in closer. Dean tries not to notice. He fails.

🥧˚｡⋆ She smells like cinnamon, sugar, and baked apples. Sam claims it’s distracting. Dean definitely doesn’t have a problem with it—except for the fact that it makes his heart do something stupid whenever she’s near.

🥧˚｡⋆ She has memories—but they’re strange. They're not real memories; She just, kind of, remembers every time Dean ever craved an apple pie. The times he was happy, the times he was miserable, and just wanted comfort food. She remembers being wanted—but not like this. Not as a person.

🥧˚｡⋆ She craves sugar like oxygen. Not just because she used to be a pie, but because sugar is energy, warmth, safety. She’ll stare at a cupcake like it holds the answers to the universe. Eve really, really, likes candies and sweet things.

🥧˚｡⋆ Dean catches her watching him. A lot. And every time, her expression is unreadable, like she’s trying to figure something out. Trying to understand him.

🥧˚｡⋆ She doesn’t like sharp objects. Instinct kicks in whenever someone picks up a knife near her, and she moves. Dean once tried to hand her a fork, and she flinched. ("Do I even want to know why?" "…Nope.")

🥧˚｡⋆ She can’t explain why she’s so drawn to Dean, but it’s there. Maybe it’s because he was the one who ate that first bite, the one who made the unintentional wish that gave her life. Or maybe it’s something deeper.

🥧˚｡⋆ She feels safest near him. When things get overwhelming—when the world feels too big, too loud, too human—she always finds herself next to Dean. Like a subconscious instinct. Like home.

🥧˚｡⋆ Apple Pie!Reader doesn’t have a name at first. Dean calls her “Sugar,” “Honey,” “Cupcake,” or sometimes "Sweetheart" anything but a real name. Eventually, she picks one herself—but Dean still calls her "Sugar" when no one else is around.

🥧˚｡⋆ Sam is both fascinated and horrified. "Dean, you’re telling me your apple pie turned into a woman?" "Dude, I don’t know how to explain it either." "And you’re keeping her here?" "What am I supposed to do, Sam? Send her back to the bakery?"

🥧˚｡⋆ She can’t read. She recognizes certain words—especially ones related to food and definitely anything Dean says a lot—but books are still a mystery. She likes when Dean reads to her, even if he grumbles about it.

🥧˚｡⋆ She gets jealous of other desserts. Dean doesn’t notice at first, but when he orders a different kind of pie at a diner and she goes silent for the rest of the night, it clicks. ("You’re mad because I ate a cherry pie?" "…No.")

🥧˚｡⋆ She starts picking up human habits—some on purpose, some by accident. Wearing Dean’s flannel when she’s cold, humming classic rock under her breath, curling up on the couch with a blanket like she’s always been there.

🥧˚｡⋆ She’s not just an apple pie that became a woman. She’s a woman learning how to be. Learning how to live, to want, to feel. And maybe, just maybe—she’s figuring out what it means to love, too.

library .ᐟ.ᐟ

∿ get to know her personality

linas notes: yayy a new object!reader!! and again, ofc, this is totally inspired by @daylighted and baby!reader !! pls check this amazing universe of object!reader, and all the others creatives readers!!

yapps! I'm a little in love with eve??? I think she's going to be sooo fun to write I'm really excited! (and again, hopping that I actually continue with this… lol)

special tags for some moots participating: @daylighted @blossomingorchids @sunsbaby @bejeweledinterludes @rositaslabyrinth @h8aaz @bluemerakis @starzify @deansbeer (let me know if you wanna be added!)

[tofics]

Nothing Like Some Neighborly Love

Part 1 - Series Masterlist

Pairing: no outbreak!Joel Miller x fem!Reader

Summary: Goodbye New York, hello Austin! - After a split from your ex, you're in dire need of a fresh scenery. Texas seems to provide just that. Your grandmother, fresh out of a hip surgery and in need of assistance, is happy to have you move in with her as a solution for both of your predicaments. Ever the hands-on person that she is, she also seems to want to rectify your fresh singleness, and she knows just the guy...

Word Count: ~4500 words

Warnings: mentions of a manipulating ex, mentions of cheating, mentions of a surgery, age gap (reader is early 30s, Joel is an unspecified amount (~10-15 years) older than her)

Your arrival in Austin, Texas is anything but spectacular. Besides your bags being some of the first to appear at baggage claim absolutely nothing out-of-the-ordinary happens - it's about as normal as a Monday-morning flight can be.

Not for you, though. Today marks the first day of your new life.

No big deal.

Except it's a huge deal. With every inch that you put between yourself and your old life in New York, you feel your shoulders relaxing a bit more and the tight-knit knot in your chest loosening.

Finally, at long last, you're free.

Free of the asshole that, up until a couple of months ago, was your boyfriend, your roommate, your co-worker.

Your lying, manipulating source of self-doubt, tears and misery.

Good fucking riddance.

"Oh honey, c'mere you!" Your grandmother pulls you into a surprisingly tight hug. For a lady who had hip surgery just two days ago, she seems to be at the top of her game.

"Gammy," you smile and return her embrace, even if not as forcefully. Strong arms or not, she did just come out of the hospital. Better to be a little more careful.

"Come in, come in! Let's get you out of that heat." Your grandma shuffles out of the door and down the hallway with the help of her rollator. You step into the house after her, dragging your two suitcases behind you.

Everything looks just like you remember. The beige carpet that flows from the hallway into the open living room and up the stairs, the brown tiles of the kitchen area, the light flowery wallpaper on the walls - as far as you can tell, not a single thing has changed. It even smells the same, like fresh laundry and soap and a faint hint of your grandmother's perfume.

You can't imagine a more comforting scenery after everything you've been through.

"How was your flight, honey? And do you want anythin' to drink?"

If it wasn't for the rollator, it'd be hard to tell that your grandmother just had a major surgery. She's already bustling about in the kitchen when you enter the open living and dining area, moving at the same speed you've always known her to. Watching your grandmother at work is like watching a busy bee, always doing something, fingers always moving. It goes without saying that your grandmother is not a woman known for sitting still or taking a break.

You already know her answer, but you have to ask anyway. "Gammy, shouldn't you be resting?"

"Restin', restin'. I hear that damn word one more time, I'm gon' have a fit!" She drops two ice cubes of frozen iced tea into each cup, then adds a lemon slice. "Doctor's said I'm s'posed to be movin'." The ice cubes clink and crackle when she pours fresh iced tea on top. "You told me to follow them orders!" Your grandma shakes the big spoon your way accusingly and you can't help but grin at the image.

"That's true, I did. I also said I'd move here to help you, grandma."

"Honey, if I can't pour no more damned iced tea, I want you to put me in my grave. Until then, I'll pour my own drinks. Now get on over here n' take those glasses over to the couch, will ya?"

You do as you're told and sit down next to your grandmother on the couch, making sure to use coasters for your drinks. Glass rings on the furniture did not go over well in this house.

"See? I can ask for help just fine." Your grandmother winks at you and then clinks her glass against yours. "Cheers, baby. Now tell me, how was your flight?"

"It was fine. Boring, uneventful. Just how I like my flights to be." A sip of your glass floods your mouth with the taste of your childhood summers, sweet and lemony and filled with your grandmother's love to the brim. There's no other iced tea quite like it.

"Good, good. And how are you doin', baby? Hm?" Her hand squeezes your thigh as her eyes roam over your face. You know the look: it's the look of scrutiny, the same one she uses any time she wants to get the truth out of someone. You've seen it being given to your mother, your father, your grandfather, even neighbors. You yourself have been at the receiving end of it a few times in your life. The result is always the same - the truth. Your grandmother is not a woman that's lied to.

"Honestly? I feel like a massive weight has been lifted off my shoulders." You sigh, both for effect and because it's true. Setting foot onto Texas soil was already liberating, but sitting in your grandmother's living room has you relaxing more and more by the minute. "I'm just so glad to be here. This couldn't have come at a better moment. Not saying I'm happy you had to get hip surgery, you know, but I'm just glad it all worked out with you needing help and me needing a new place to figure out where to go from here."

You squeeze your grandma's hand on your thigh and she puts hers right on top, squeezing you back. "Oh, hush. Y'know you're welcome here anytime, and I'd much rather have you here t' help me out than some stranger comin' into my house every single day."

Despite your circumstances, you can't deny how lucky the timing of it all has been. Your relationship had been crumbling for months and it seemed like no matter what you did, all your efforts were in vein and largely not reciprocated. To make matters worse, your job was suffering under the pressure of your dissolving relationship as well. You and your boyfriend worked at the same elementary school, you being a teacher and him being the principal, and while sharing a workplace and commute had been something out of a dream come true for the first two years together, it quickly posed a problem when your first problems emerged.

The final nail in the coffin came in the form of him being the nail and the coffin being his secretary. It was so cliché that you didn't know whether to laugh or cry when you first found out. In the end, you did neither, just packed your things and left. That part was easy, with a circle of friends who offered up their couches and open ears immediately. The work part? Not so much. By now you'd say that working under your ex while another woman was actually under him was the worst part of your final months in New York.

You needed to get out. You were already out of your joined flat, the job was the next thing to go. Then your grandmother mentioned she'd need to get surgery on her hip and just hated the idea of having a stranger coming to her house every single day to help her with her day-to-day errands.

The plan basically wrote itself.

Your grandma was delighted by the idea of you moving you here. A temporary arrangement until she's all healed up and you have figured out where to go from here. It's basically a two-birds-with-one-stone situation.

After you've finished your iced tea, your grandmother insists on showing you around the house. "Gammy, come on, you really should sit down, at least a little," you try to convince her, but she's not having any of it. "I know it looks like it hasn't changed much, but I've had some things done since you were here last. Now you'll wanna know where everything is if you wanna help, right?"

You don't even bother contradicting her and she pulls herself up by the handles of her rollator with a triumphant look.

The first room you tackle is right by the entrance, opposite of the guest bathroom. It used to be your grandfather's office, but you're surprised to find it all turned around, now with a bed in the middle of it and an assortment of bedroom furniture to go with it.

"This is my new haven, at least for now." Grammy shuffles into the room and carefully plops her behind down on the raised bed. "Got help from a neighbor a street over. Nice young fella, handsome too." She shoots you a meaningful glance that you decide to ignore. "Him and his brother got some of the stuff from upstairs down here. I got this bed on loan just until I can get back into my old chambers upstairs. Doc said the stairs shouldn't be an issue, but I just wanted to make sure." A few approving pats on the mattress.

"I'm impressed, Grammy. I'd have thought you'd force yourself up the stairs every single night, no matter what. I'm glad you're cutting yourself some slack somewhere." You know your grandma appreciates your candor, but you also know how hard this situation is on her mentally. She has always been an active woman and being physically impaired can't be easy for her. You press a soft kiss to her forehead to emphasize your praise.

"Yeah yeah," she grumbles but then still squeezes your arm. "C'mon now. I wanna show you the upstairs."

The changes upstairs are less drastic, but still noticeable.

For one thing, the master bedroom is full of your grandfather's old files, various stacks piled around the room. It's a temporary set-up that you mean to sort through in your upcoming weeks here, a thank you for letting you stay and your way of chipping in, as your grandmother refuses to accept any kind of rent or payment in general for your stay.

Your own bedroom has also received a slight makeover. Previously a guest room that served as storage for when no guests were in town, the room used to be somewhat cramped, yet still cozy. You've always slept in this room and never minded the wild assortment of furniture and various gadgets, but your grandmother went all out in preparation for your visit and had all of the "junk" removed and stored in the garage downstairs. Now, on top of new furniture, the walls sport a fresh paintjob and the closet is completely empty, waiting to be filled with your own clothes and belongings.

"Grandma, you shouldn't have!," you exclaim but can't hide the excitement in your eyes as you take in your new four walls. The twin bed got exchanged for a queen, which, now that everything is stored downstairs, comfortably fits against the back wall under the window. Despite your solo-self, it comes with a nightstand on each side, matching the color of the dresser to the right and the desk tucked into the corner next to the door. Ever the prepared host, your grandma has already put a small bouquet on one of the nightstands and fresh sheets on the bed.

You spin around and bury your grandmother in a tight hug, suddenly overwhelmed by the love that clearly went into the preparation of your arrival. "You're the best," you whisper against her neck as a couple of tears spill from your eyes.

There's no place you'd rather be.

Your spend your first few days in Austin getting reacquainted with the city. As a child, you'd come here for every single summer break, so you know your way around the neighborhood well enough, but a lot has changed since you strolled around the streets in your dungarees and pigtails. Mostly it's just different shops or a new building here and there, but the neighbors have changed too. You're sad to find out that one of your favorite neighbors, an old man named George who grew the sweetest strawberries in his front yard, passed away just a couple of weeks ago. Another couple two houses down, whose daughter you used to play with on your childhood visits, has moved away to the north. The list of changes is long, but besides old George's death, there's nothing too drastic.

Just as expected (and hoped for), you have no time to dwell on your recent split. With the way the relationship went for the past years, you kind of checked out of it mentally a long time ago, but finding out about the affair still kicked you in the guts. Luckily, you're too busy to get lose yourself in a thought spiral about it, all thanks to your grandmother who is keeping you fresh on your toes.

Being the busy woman that she is, she has a whole list of errands for the week, consisting of groceries, check-ups and social calls. You keep thinking that if it wasn't for her rollator and her slower, slight wobbly walk, you'd hardly know the woman was operated on just days ago, and you're not alone. The same sentiment is expressed to you wherever the two of you go, your grandmother being a well-known and respected woman in her neighborhood.

On Saturday, just five days after your arrival, you take her to the local church. Despite not being big on faith, she has been a member of the volunteer group of the church for decades, and a cherished one at that. The moment you push her wheelchair through the door, other volunteers rush over and swarm your grandmother with questions about her well-being. Grammy makes a point of saying there's no need for the fuss, but you can tell that she's touched by the community's care for her.

The meeting discusses the idea of a block party that's been floating around for some time now, but was never realized.

"Lottie, do you even think you could handle it, being in recovery and all?," an elderly man asks directed at your grandmother. The look she shoots him in response drains some color in his face, and some other members at the table laugh. "I'm insulted you'd even ask, Frank," your grandmother replies with a hint of sourness in her voice, but then her smile grows wide and there's a mischievous spark in her eyes that puts you on high alert. You know that look. Your grandmother is up to something.

"Much as I hate to admit it though, you might be right. I'm not at the top of my game, no denying that. However, that's where my lovely granddaughter comes into play!" All eyes swivel around to you, including your grandmother's, the mischievous sparkle present as ever.

Uh oh.

"As many of you already know, my granddaughter has temporarily moved in with me to help me out during my recovery, gracious soul that she is." Gracious soul? Grammy is laying it on thick. You cock your head slightly to the side with raised eyebrows, all while maintaining a smile on your face. What are you doing? Your grandmother reads the silent question in your facial features but offers no explanation, her smile just turns more sweetly. "As a teacher, she has her fair share of experience with organizing events. Ain't that so, sweetheart?"

"I mean, I've organized two talent shows, but that was in collab-," you begin, still unsure of where this is going, but Grammy cuts you off.

"See? She's perfect. I'm sure she can fill my shoes just fine, and I'll still be there behind the scenes anyway."

Before you can utter another word, you are crowned as head of the block party planning committee. As soon as the decision is made, the group gets down to business and starts mapping out a rough draft. Besides the obvious cake buffet, whipped up and provided by members of the volunteer committee, the only other safe participant is the church's kids group, who, according to pastor William, plan to host a lemonade stand. By the end of the meeting, you have an extensive list of possible collaborators to hit up. As head of the committee, it falls in your jurisdiction to get local business on board.

"Alright, that looks like a solid list. I trust Lottie's granddaughter will do a fine job of getting lots of business on board." Pastor William smiles warmly at you and you can't help but feel like he's already forgotten your name again. Then again, he's got a big flock. Can't blame him if he doesn't remember every single sheep by name.

"And we've got Anne, Derrick and Kirsten for decorating, as well as our kids group. That just leaves the question of construction. Who's gonna supply us with stalls or booths? Any ideas, folks?"

"I'm sure Joel Miller would be happy to chip in. Him n' his brother got that construction business, remember? Sweet boys. Helped me set up my lil' hospital ward situation I got back at home," your grandma chirps up, and suddenly, you understand the mischievous twinkle in her eye.

What an elaborate and canny way to set you up. Wow.

You bite on your lip to hide the grin that threatens to spill across your face, keeping your laughter inside until after the meeting. Once you bring it up in the car back home, Grammy plays the innocent act. "I got no idea what you're talkin' about, honey. Just suggested a guy I know that does good work and has a good heart."

"Right, because especially the good heart is extremely relevant when it comes to building things," you chuckle.

"Sure it is, if it's volunteer work. And I'm tellin' you. That Joel, he's got a heart of gold."

You can sense the way your grandmother's eyes are boring into the side of your skull, but you keep your gaze focused on the road ahead of you.

Heart of gold or not, you're nowhere near ready to be dating again.

"Yeah, come on in, Lottie said you'd swing by."

It's late in the evening and his porch light hums above the two of you, casting a golden light on your silhouettes and long shadows on the ground. The fly screen creaks as Joel Miller holds it open for you. You shimmy past him with a small smile, tugging your folder of papers to your chest so they don't rub against him.

Joel's house smells like wood chips, old leather and something distinctly 'homey' that you can't quite put a finger on, but makes you feel very at ease. The scent engulfs you as you step into the house, briefly interrupted by smell of him, a mix of soap and aftershave and just the tiniest tinge of sweat.

It's an intoxicating combination.

So much so that for the briefest moment, you have the instinct to lean a step back and sniff him, but you catch yourself before you embarrass yourself.

"Kitchen's down there. Got a table and everything for your paper collection." Joel motions down the hallway with a quick and friendly wink at you. You follow his direction wordlessly and sit at the aforementioned table, feeling the tips of your ears growing slightly red.

Your grandma wasn't kidding when she said he's handsome.

You'd chalked it up to her trying to set you up, talking him up the same way elderly ladies tend to talk about men that are younger than them. 'Handsome' and 'smart-looking' are standards in that vocabulary box. You couldn't have known that this time, the description would be right on point.

"Want one?" Joel's got his head in the fridge, holding out a cold beer to you over his shoulder.

"Sure, thanks." Usually you're not so tight-lipped. In fact, you've probably talked more in the past few days than you do in a normal school week, and that's saying something. Going around town and chatting up local businesses about participating in your block party had your mouth going at a hundred miles per hour, figuratively speaking. Between speaking to people in person and confirming spots via your cell-phone, it has been a couple of very word-filled days.

And yet, now that you're with another potential 'client' you have to recruit for your endeavor, your speech well seems to have dried up.

It could have something to do with the fact that visually, Joel Miller is exactly your type. Besides his physique - tan biceps visibly stretching under a tight t-shirt that might be a size too small for him - he's got warm, brown eyes with laugh crinkles around them and a head full of salt-and-pepper hair that pairs beautifully with his scruffy-looking beard. By the looks of it, he has ten, maybe fifteen years on you.

Not really an issue for you.

Your ex, cursed be his name, was a chunk older than you too. It was just the type of man you drifted towards, the kind that's a bit ahead of you in time. In your experience, it pays off maturity wise in a way that men your age just can't compete in, even if your last boyfriend wasn't the best example.

Older men just have a grip on you you can't explain, nor deny.

"So." Joel sets the two bottles of beer down on the table, then slides onto the chair across from you. "What can I do for ya? Lottie said somethin' 'bout you guys needin' somethin' built?"

He screws the caps off of both bottles, then slides one over to you. "Cheers." Your bottles clink together and you take a few chugs, grateful for the liquid running down your dry throat. Whether that's from all your talking or a physical reaction to Joel, you don't know, and you're not sure you want to find out.

"Yeah, that's right," you finally say when you put your beer down half empty. Joel glances at your bottle with one raised eyebrow and half a grin on his lips, but doesn't say anything and instead motions for you to go on. "It's for the church's block party. The volunteer group, which my grandmother is a part of, is putting it together. It's supposed to be this come-together opportunity, get-to-know-your-neighbors kind of thing. I've been going around the past couple of days, seeing who wants to join and maybe offer a booth or a stall."

"Looks like you were quite successful with that." He nods at the wild stack of papers in front of you, post-its sticking out left and right and scribbles all over. You laugh and shuffle through the papers.

"It looks more than it is, but yeah, lots of people want to join, thankfully. Now that's where you come in." You pull out a numbered list and slide it over to him.

"This is everyone that wants to join. Problem is, we don't have enough booths for everyone."

Joel skims over the list, then whistles. "Phew. That's a bunch. How many of them you got stalls for?"

You pause long enough for Joel to look up from the list and notice you biting on your lip. "Umh. None of them?" Your grin is awkward and apologetic at the same time. Joel stares at you for a second, a dumbfounded expression on his face, then breaks out into a bellowing laughter. It's warm and deep and infectious and has the corners of your lips rising into a genuine grin.

"Oh, you're somethin'," he says breathlessly when he recovers from his laughing fit. "I can definitely see the relation to Lottie."

You shrug apologetically again and bite down on your bottom lip, the grin still lingering on your face. "What can I say? Persuasion runs strongly in this family."

"That so?" Joel leans back in his chair and puts his arms behind his head. Before you can help it, your gaze flickers across his across his arms, from his prominent biceps all the way down to where his torso meet his jeans. You look away quickly, but get the feeling Joel caught your stare by his smug grin. "I ain't said yes yet."

He does say yes. You come home giddy, excited by your success of rounding up participants for the block party and flustered from your hour at Joel's house.

It didn't take him long to officially agree, though you had no doubt that he would.

You also have no doubt that Joel Miller has been flirting with you.

There is even less doubt that you liked it.

You surprised yourself. By the time you wrapped your first meeting up, you asked for his number so you could reach him in case of changes or the like. Though the block party really was the main reason you required his number, you couldn't deny finding a little bit of joy in the idea of having his number in your phone. He had smiled all smugly too when you'd asked, his brows wiggling suggestively for just a second before he reached for the pen in your hand and scribbled his number down on one of your papers. "There you go, darlin'," he'd said, and you had to fight the urge very hard to bite your bottom lip at the mention of the endearing term.

It only occurs to you now that your grandma probably already has his number and you asking for his number could have come across as you flirting.

Oh.

"Honey, that you?," your grandma hollers out of the living room when you enter her home.

"Yeah Gammy, it's me," you call back and set your papers down on the side table near the front door.

"How'd it go?"

You tell her about your meeting with Joel in the most nonchalant way possible while you help her chop up veggies for dinner. She listens intently and is delighted that Joel has agreed to build the booths, but doesn't seem surprised by it either. Once you're finished with your summary, she gives you that inquisitorial look again.

"So?"

"So what, Gammy?"

"Don't fool me, honey. What'd you think?"

You keep your eyes focused on the carrot your peeling, determined not to meet her gaze. You just know she'd read everything in your eyes.

"Yeah, he's a nice man," you say, but she just tsks at you and swats your arm with her cooking spoon.

"You know damn well that's not what I asked."

"What do you want to hear then?"

The lack of reply makes you look up. Grammy is staring at you with an anything-but-pleased look on her face.

"What!," you exclaim defensively. Her response comes paired with another whack of her spoon. "He's a good man! You should give him a chance."

"Oh my god, Gammy. He has a kid." You groan, but pictures of Joel's biceps dance across the back of your mind.

"So? You're thirty-two, old enough to be a mom. 'Sides, I ain't tellin' you to marry the man, I'm just sayin' go out, have some fun."

"Oh well, in that case. If I'm not supposed to marry him."

You giggle and jump away when the spoon launches for you a third time, only narrowly missing you by a few inches.

Series Masterlist - Mobile Masterlist

Feedback is always appreciated! If you have any requests, feel free to send them my way. I'm always happy to practice my writing! :)

Find more entries for the hot dilf summer challenge by @hellishjoel here!

[cathrrrine]

Perfect / Love Won’t Die

Dominick “Sonny” Carisi x Reader • Law and Order SVU • Domestic Fluff, AFAB!Reader

Summary: Sonny happily holds the bouquet of flowers he bought for his girlfriend only for her to open the door and start crying. He immediately panics, but soon finds himself amused when she reveals the true reason for her tears. AO3

A/N: I’ve never posted any of my SVU imagines, but I had to with this one :) Happy 2024! My resolution is to post more of my work so I’m digging through all my drafts and posting them lol. Enjoy husband material Carisi <3

In all the six months you had been dating Sonny, there were never many problems that couldn’t be resolved with a simple conversation or a hug and a kiss on the cheek. As far as Sonny was concerned, it was the perfect relationship. He had gotten to know all your little habits; likes and dislikes, pet peeves, niche obsessions. Six months wasn’t exactly a super long time but it wasn’t short either. After only half a year of dating each other, he’d confidently testify that he had fallen in love with you deeply, enough to want to spend the rest of his life with you. He was happy to get married, have babies, grow old together…the whole shebang.

Things were going steady with you. He couldn’t imagine himself being with anybody else, and he was over the moon to know that you felt the samw way. Long late-night conversations about the future the two of you dreamed of revealed that you wanted him to be a part of it as much as he wanted you. Sure, Sonny was aware of how much of a (hopeless) romantic he could be sometimes, but that was in the past, and all of those relationships weren’t with the right people. His sisters had been talking his ear off ever since high school, warning him about women that would only break his heart. It made him wince just to think about all the red flags they ticked off angrily; gold-diggers, manipulators, emotionally unstable women, emotionally unavailable women…and the likes of it. That and their own broken-heart experiences that prompted very fuelled lectures of examples of men Sonny shouldn’t follow always rang in his mind, even until now.

He’d also been made well aware of how right they were about his exes with a bunch of ‘I told you so’s’ and narrowed eyes, but those relationships were in the past and he was much, much younger (and dumber) than he is now. He only had a couple of serious relationships in his adulthood, which ended up not being the right fit for either parties. Then, his love life got buried under the heavy, heavy load of police work and law school and he never found the time to make himself available in the dating pool. He was always too tired, too beat, too mentally drained. It was never a priority.

Then everything came to a stop and his whole world wouldn’t do anything but revolve around you. Sonny was smitten, like a lovesick puppy who got shot by cupid’s nuclear-powered bazooka as fate would have it.

He never felt this way about anyone in his life before, it was a feeling he relished in and was adamant on not letting go.

You were perfect.

Obviously, you had your flaws, but all only human, none of them fatal. Like how you had a habit of ordering too much food but he ends up being the one to finish it up when you realised your eyes had been bigger than your appetite — but he didn’t mind that at all, in fact he secretly loved being able to feast like a King — or how sometimes, you would arrive 10 minutes late to your dates on one of your busiest weeks, which he never complained about because he had his fair share of being unpunctual as well. Plus, you always made it up to him one way or another.

You were absolutely perfect, inside and out. Sonny thanked God everyday for sending a woman as smart, beautiful and kind as you his way. He’s never felt so lucky.

Sonny knew and loved everything about you, down to your weirdest quirks. If there was a Jeopardy! game where the topic was You, he’d be waving around his trophy like a mad man. What you didn’t tell him, he learned. It was the same way you got to know him. The two of you were always honest with each other, trust being the pillar of your relationship, it was why you got along so well. You knew how to make him happy, as he did for you.

So, why is it that you were crying as he handed you a bouquet of your favourite flowers as soon as you opened the door to your apartment?

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” His sweet smile dropped to a concerned frown, uncomfortable and nervous at your sudden reaction.

There you were in front of him, dressed in your most comfortable pair of pyjama pants and an oversized tee that he was sure once belonged to him, messy hair up that he found extremely adorable. Nothing seemed out of place, except for the fact that…well, you were crying.

He always brought you flowers. Was he late? He glanced at the clock on your wall. No…was it something he said? Something he did? Something…he totally forgot about?

“Nothing- no, everything’s fine, nothing’s wrong.” You sniffed, hugging the fresh bouquet close to your chest, dipping your nose into the floral fragrance to smell it only to find that the tears had triggered an onslaught of snot. That only made you cry more.

The bubble of nerves in Sonny’s chest was bursting at this point, he was almost worried he was having a heart attack. “Doll, you’re crying, something’s wrong.”

He held out an arm to pull you into a hug and you eagerly sunk into his embrace. You buried your face into the fabric of his suit jacket, breathing in what you could of his faded perfume. His calloused hands stroked your hair, softly caressing your head as he cradled it. He gently peeled you off of him to get a better look of your face, now red and eyes puffy from sobbing.

He held your cheeks between his palms and you pouted, looking up at him with sad doe-like eyes, and if that didn’t break his heart that he must not have one because the look on your face was shattering him in every possible way right now. One of his thumbs swiped a fresh tear off your cheek, he felt you nuzzle into his hand.

The tall blond gently led you to your couch and set the flowers down on the coffee table before cuddling up with you close to his chest. You wrapped your arms around him desperately, wanting nothing more than to be absolutely engulfed by everything Sonny — scent, skin and biceps.

“You’re killing me sweetheart, you gotta tell me what’s gotten you all upset like this.” You felt him kiss the top of your head and love bloomed in your chest immediately. “Come on, doll, what’s up?”

You sighed, big and loud, huffing away all the choked up tears with one big breath. “I swear it’s nothing. I’m so stupid.”

He was quiet for a while until you felt his voice vibrate from his chest again, “Was it…me? Did I do something wrong?”

You whipped your head to look at him, only to be greeted with a very worried expression.

Oh, Sonny. Oh, sweet heavenly innocent Sonny. How could you not love this man with every fibre of your being when he’s got that look in his eyes? The one where his pupils are so dilated, you could see your reflection in his big, blue puppy eyes.

How could you have been so careless?! Of course he’d think you were crying because of him, the sweet stupid man — God, you loved him so much. The thought only made you more emotional…and just like that the waterworks came rushing back in.

“Oh, God, Sonny-“ you hiccuped, pulling yourself away from him to put your face in your hands. “I’m so sorry- it’s not your fault at all,”

The lovesick, worried-sick man shot up next to you to pull you into his arms once again, stomach churning at the wave of emotions you were going through. He couldn’t even detective his way through this, his mind going haywire with every sniff that came from you.

“Then what is it?” He tried to keep the panic out of his voice, “Did something happen at work? Is it that asshole again?”

With what he dealt with at his job, it wasn’t out of the question for his mind to be going down that dark path, but he shoved his anger and panic down to focus on your well-being, remaining rational until you were calm.

That made you shoot up to look at him again, words tumbling out of your mouth hurriedly to curb his worries. “No, no! I’m okay, I’m absolutely fine, Todd — that ass — didn’t do anything to me, I promise you, I swear to God. And it’s not you, it’s not anything even remotely related to anything sane at all. I don’t even know why I’m getting all worked up over a bunch of random things, it’s just so—“

“Doll.” Your boyfriend’s voice pulled you out of your rambling. The loving concern that radiated off of him was enough to bring you back to your senses. Gently, he asked again. “What is it?”

You melted immediately, both embarrassed and exhausted from all the sobbing you had been doing. “I’m on my period.”

Oh.

Oh!

“I know, I’m not usually this emotionally affected but my hormones are all over the place and my TV decided to autoplay The Notebook, now I’m a mess.” You sniffed. “I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t have seen me like this, much less deal with me.”

It was only then that the detective noticed the TV screen, paused on Ryan Gosling’s frowning face.

He tried to stifle his amusement, but it came out in a fit of giggles, much to your dismay.

“It’s not funny.” You pouted.

“I just— I thought—“ His laughter consumed him, shoulders shaking as he held up his palms to his face and ran his fingers through his hair, uncaring of how it would mess it up. Sonny leaned back into the couch and continued to laugh with his hands over his face.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice was so quiet it came out like a squeak, ashamed of how you cried like a baby in front of him. Although the two of you spent plenty times over at each other’s places and hanging out with each other, over the six months he knew you, you never had your hormones hit you this hard. It wasn’t uncommon to you, but it wasn’t a regular occurrence either, and it certainly wasn’t an event Sonny had the pleasure of experiencing…until today.

“It’s okay if you’d prefer to be at your own place right now, I totally get it. I won’t be offended in the least, okay? I’ll call you in the morning.” Some men in the past have been weirded out when this happened to you, so you weren’t lying when you said you wouldn’t be offended — it was ‘your fault’ anyway, that was what you had grown accustomed to.

But Sonny, the ever-loving and understanding guy, did not share the same view. Of course not! Raised-with-sisters, loves-his-mother, thoroughly Italian, good-Catholic-man-who-respects-women Sonny, would never in a million years ever even think about being upset with you just because your period messed with your emotions. And that’s why you weren’t sure why you were so surprised when he responded to your offer with a kiss.

This was Sonny. He would never think lowly of you because of something you couldn’t control.

“That’s crazy talk, doll.” He mumbled into the kiss, smiling as he continued to love on your lips. “I’d never leave you alone like this.”

You pulled away a bit to properly look at his face, “Really?”

This was the man your heart belonged to. You don’t know how you didn’t explode when he gave you the most charming smile that ever graced his lips.

“Really.”

Everything you were worried about solved itself into place, like sentient puzzle pieces figuring themselves out with confidence.

“You’re too good for me.”

Unabashedly, you continued to make out with your boyfriend on your couch, a newfound appreciation driving you mad with love.

“I’m only for you, babe. Don’t need anyone or anything else but you.”

———

Now that the two of you were freshened up and settled down with mugs of hot cocoa in your hands, you and Sonny were much more at ease.

There was nothing better to Sonny than to be cuddled up with his girlfriend with her head laying on his chest. You practically clung to the arm draped over your shoulder, making a nest out of his bicep for your face — which reminded him of a koala bear, but he kept that thought to himself. He was so comfortable, so happy that this was his life. His nose pressed against your hair, the scent of your shampoo reminding him of a holiday well-spent together in Mexico. Deja Vu hit him the minute he kissed your head, laughing through his nose when he remembered the events that happened just a few hours prior.

“Hey,” he nudged you with the arm you were glued to. You pulled your focus from the movie you were watching — a comedy, nothing that would make the ‘bloody demon hormones possess me’ as you put it — and raised your eyebrows curiously in response. “I’m just wonderin’…”

“Hmm?”

“Why did you cry when I gave you the flowers?”

You groaned, still somewhat embarrassed at the flurry of emotions you attacked the innocent man with. But you humoured the question anyway, “I opened the door and you were standing there, so handsome and so sickeningly charming, holding up flowers that you brought for me. You should be worried if I didn’t cry.”

“Wow,” he whistled. “I’m really that handsome, huh?”

You playfully hit him in the chest with your fist as you resumed your initial position, “Shut up.” A smirk managed to rip it’s way through your lips. “But mostly, I was crying because I was so sad that the flowers were going to die. I don’t know, just weird how my brain works on my period.”

It was a nonchalant mention, nothing big to you, but it stuck to his mind. Flowers dying made you upset. How precious was that? He catalogued the thought, filing it away for the future. The inkling of humour tempted him, though.

“So, not so much on the handsome part?”

You snorted, “Eh, I’ll give it a 60/40.”

“It should be in the news or something. ‘Guy So Handsome, Makes A Grown Woman Cry’” he gestured in the air as if there was a banner.

“How about, ‘Girl So Hormonal, Makes A Grown Man Cry With Her’?”

“Psh, I didn’t cry.”

“You so were.”

“Was not.”

You laughed, thinking he’d given it up when the sound of the movie began to fade into your hearing again.

“You should come over the precinct, tell the guys how I can make the ladies cry just by showing up at their door.”

He wore that goofy, toothy grin you were so accustomed to whenever he was joking around.

You rolled your eyes. Then decided to mess with him. “Excuse me? Ladies? Plural?”

The grin immediately wiped off of his face. “No- I meant lady, as in singular.”

“Mhmm.”

“I mean— no, that’s not what—“

“Sure, Son.” The monotonous voice you used made him sweat.

“You know you’re the only gal for me! I was just joking…hey, baby, come on, look at me…”

———

Months passed by and relationship milestones came and went. You finally met his family on month eight, and him yours. Month ten, you got a promotion at work and thankfully — not by your doing — Todd left the company. Sonny and the rest of the SVU team made a breakthrough on a case, you met his coworkers you heard so much about for the first time when he brought you along for their celebratory dinner. He was teased relentlessly for ‘keeping such a wonderful woman from us all this time’. You enjoyed the camaraderie that they shared with each other, and felt like you won a prize when they extended it to you.

Time passed by you so fast that you barely noticed it was almost a full year since you and Sonny made it official.

The day of your anniversary, he made reservations for the two of you at a fancy restaurant — Italian, of course. You reminisced the journey of your relationship together over some fine dining and a delightful bottle of wine. The ambiance, mixed with the light-headed feeling from one too many glasses of wine, only made the love you had for Sonny so much more emphasised. It was a dream, to be loved by such an amazing man, to have found your soulmate. If you weren’t at such busy points of your career, you’d literally have his babies right then and there. A couple of mini Sonny’s would do the world good, you pondered. Unbeknownst to you, the subject of your thoughts was thinking the exact same thing, only he was dreaming up a babble of mini You’s instead.

Sonny and you walked home together — he had basically moved into your apartment by now, he was finding it harder and harder to be separated from you at night. Having you next to him made him sleep better, and just generally being around you made him feel better — the two of you never made his move-in an official thing, but there was no need to. It was almost like you shared a telepathic connection. Although, Sonny being Sonny, will make the moving in an official thing whether you needed to or not. Maybe into an actual house, with a backyard and a huge kitchen and a family to raise in to make it a home. One day. Maybe even tomorrow. He’d do anything, anytime with you.

“Got you something, by the way.” He grinned, keys jangling on the doorknob as he swung it open for you.

“Sonny, you didn’t have to.” You blushed. One year together and he still had that effect on you.

“Well, I wanted to.”

While you were taking off your shoes, he used it as a distraction to take it out of the hiding spot he so carefully planned — his height being an advantage to said plan — and waddled over in his socks to where you were sitting on the couch, handing it to you once he was sat as well.

It was a daintily patterned gift bag, not too big and not too small either, with a card attached to it on the front. You carefully removed it to read his words in neat handwriting.

Happy 1 year anniversary, doll. I love you so much. You make me the luckiest man alive. My love for you will never die.

You wanted to cry, so touched by his short but undeniably sweet words. He saw how your bottom lip jutted out, the way it usually did when emotions got the best of you, and smiled to himself with a bit of pride in getting his words right.

Slowly, you pried the top of the bag open, only discovering a plastic dome. “Careful.” Your boyfriend noted.

You wondered what it was, going over all the possibilities in your head as you took it out of the bag; lava lamp, necklace, tiny bottle, lantern…only to gasp when you saw what it really was inside.

A small sphere-shaped cactus with a crown of pink flowers, placed inside a white ceramic pot with the words, ‘My love for you will never die’ engraved in cursive writing around it.

Ahhhh, here come the waterworks.

“Sonny,” your eyebrows scrunched up, lips fully pouting now. “This is the sweetest fucking gift ever.”

Your use of words didn’t go unnoticed by the smiling man, earning you a chuckle out of him. “I remember the time you cried when I brought you flowers, and you told me it was because you were sad ‘bout them dying…it’s cheesy, I know. Corny, a bit. But I thought you’d like it.”

The rising inflection of his voice gave away his nerves, but you were quick to make your appreciation known. “I do, I do! It’s just the most beautiful and thoughtful gift anyone’s ever given me. Thank you, baby. I’m- Aw…“

You choked up and he took that as his cue to pull you into his arms, careful to set the prickly plant down so you wouldn’t accidentally get hurt.

“It’s true though, my love will never die. You’re stuck with me for as long as you want me.”

“You know I’m shit at keeping plants alive, Son!” You couldn’t help the wavering in your voice, “Oh, but this is just so, so sweet. You’re just too cute for your own good.”

“Well, I was cute enough for you to accept the babbling guy who asked you out a year ago.” The giggling that followed made his blue eyes seem brighter.

“Yeah, I couldn’t say no to that face.”

You took the comfortable silence that ensued as a segue to your own offering to him, “Speaking of this cactus being put at the risk of dying, I’m gonna have to appoint someone to remind me it needs water every now and then.”

“I’m assuming that would be me?”

“Yup.” You shifted around to look through your purse. “So, I was thinking…”

Sonny narrowed his eyes at you, “Thinking…?”

You held out your palm and reached out for his, dropping a familiar weight into his hands. As soon as you pulled your hands away, the object revealed itself to be a single silver key with a brown leather strap keychain attached to the ring, ‘Det. Carisi’ engraved on one side and ‘Sonny’ on the other.

He looked up at you, meeting eager eyes that matched his own. You were practically bouncing with giddiness, excited to reach yet another milestone.

“Move in with me? Officially?”

God, you were so perfect.

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

[imaginesig]

“If they call me a slut, you know it might be worth if for once”

Lewis Hamilton x singer!reader

SMAU

Music themed materlist

Complete materlist pinned on my profile

yourusername

liked by lewishamilton, user1, y/nhq, and 402,038 others

yourusername: my muse <3

tagged lewishamilton

lewishamilton its an honor love

user1 when will I find someone to call me love

lando.jpg your own jpg account when??

yourusername I'll stick to my day job

user2 anybody else bothered by how quickly she goes from man to man

user3 right? like I swear she's had about 7 "muses" in the past 3 years

user4 she's literally done nothing wrong?? how dare a women date more than 1 person in her life??

carlossainz55 so new music when?

Charles_leclerc the Ferrari playlist needs an update

yourusername update loading 🔄

user5 oh please be a new album!!

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lewishamilton

liked by roscoovescoco, yourusername, user6, and 183,829 others

lewishamilton: race weekend with my loves

tagged: mercadesamgf1, roscoelovescoco, yourusername

landonorris interesting order

yourusername we all know Roscoe is the real star here

roscoelovescoco listen to the lady 🙌

mercadesmhf1 we love having the Hamilton family in the paddock

yourusername ahhh love to be there!!

lewishamilton 💚

georgerussell63 always a good time with these two in the house

yourusername ahhhh Georgie 🫶🫶

user1 "Georgie" 🥹😭

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tmz_offical

liked by user9, user1, user3, and 937,273 others

tmz_offical: just days after the end of the season, f1 driver Lewis Hamilton is spotted out with young girlfriend Y/n L/n. The couple is notorious for keeping their privacy, making paparazzi pictures a rare instance. Click the link in our bio to see what else was taken during their night out on the town.

tagged lewishamilton, yourusername

user1 no wonder they keep private, I would too if ended up trapped in a relationship with a slut like her

user2 didn't she and Dylan O'Brian break up right before they got together? Didn't think he rebound guy would last this long

user3 I could never imagine dating someone that much older than me

user4 fr someone tell her to take it down a notch, her sluttiness is showing

User8 the one sided hate is mid boggling

user5 the negativity is DEFINING

user6 right, y'all can't stand to see a women happy, healthy, and unbothered

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y/nupdates

liked by lewishamilton, user5, user9, and 749,934 more

y/nupdates: Y/n seen outside the studio with her producer after radio silence all winter!!

tagged yourusername

user1 she's cooking

user2 she's entering her reputation era I can feel it

user3 fr, after that one tmz post blows up and her comments are flooded with negativity, she locked herself away with her love, and is now seen for the first time in awhile leaving the studio

user4 I CANT HANDLE THIS RN

user5 not the slut trying for a comeback

user6 how about you lead by example? Leave and don't come back 🫶

user8 you know the records gonna slap when @/producer sprinkled her magic

user9 I need them and Taylor+Jack to release something

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yourusername

liked by user5, lewishamilton, y/nhq, and 394,028 others

yourusername: "Slut!" out now on all streaming platforms!! The rest of the album, "Amor Omnia Vincit" out this Friday!

when I originally sat down to create this new album I didn't image I'd write half the songs that made the final cut, but I did. This has been a very therapeutic experience for me.

Thank you to this album, my amazing team, and my lovely muse for keeping me going in the difficult time <3

tagged: y/nhq

lewishamilton you are so Shawn Hunter coded

lewishamilton I love you dear

yourusername I love you too darling

user1 they are so domestic I'm crying 🤭😭

user2 lets all start a thread of our fav lyrics from "Slut!"

user3 "if I'm all dressed up, they might as well be looking at us" WE KNOW THIS COUPLE ALWAYS BRING FIRE FITS

user4 very obvious but "if they call me a slut, you know it might be worth it for once," just hits so hard, like this is an issue she's dealt with for so long but Lewis makes it all better bc their relationship trumps everything

user5 piggy backing off of @/user4 's reasoning, "the sticks and stones they throw froze mid air"

user6 "IN A WORLD OF BOYS HES A GENTLEMAN" 🔛🔝

user7 I'm still not very her admitting that all the negavity around her dating has affected her so bad that she told Lewis "I said it might blow up in your pretty face"

scuderiaferarri we will not apologize for the people we'll become when this drops ‼️

Charles_leclerc we've always been #1 y/n stans

lewishamilton you red fuckers can take two steps back that's my title

carlossainz55 I thought you were her muse?

lewishamilton I'm both

user8 ok possessive king

youruserame for me and me only 🥰

load more

lewishamilton

liked by georgerussell64, your username, user1, and 789,739 others

lewishamilton: SO, SO, SO PROUD OF YOU LOVE!! Watching you work through a rough patch with such grace was beautiful. Thank you for allowing me to be apart of it and listen to these songs+more. I'll be your muse forever if you'll have me <3

tagged yourusername, y/nhq

yourusername forever and always <3

lewishamilton <3

user1 that water look very ~aquamarine~ to anyone

user2 he def knew what he was doing

lewishamilton I had a message to send 🤷🏾‍♂️

user2 LMAOOO HES SO PETTY

yourusername sassy man epidemic isn't a joke

user3 I love that she left like people wanted and wrote a whole song to shut down the hater but also put her and Lewis's relationship on the pedestal it deserves

producer such a sweet album!! Some of the best love songs out there!!

Charles_leclerc Vigilante Shit is my new pre-prix anthem

yourusername watch out @/maxverstappen1

maxverstappen this is where the dutch anthem falls silent 😔

carlossainz55 wasn't ready for Dress

yourusername but...

carlossainz55 its my fav

user4 I love that lewis posted for the whole album when Y/n didn't, but she's replying to comments in his section when he isn't

user5 they really are made for each other huh

roscoelovescoco amazing work mom!!

user5 I will never get over the mom

load more

yourusername

liked by landonorris, Charles_leclerc, user5, and 937,039 others

yourusername: surprise!! Since this album taught me what it was like to write and create in such an intamate space with very few people/outide influence I wanted to celebrate it with 3 small shows in Monaco, London, and Ottawa!

tickets on sale at 12 pm eastern this friday, see ya then ;)

tagged y/nhq

landonorris do friends get discounts??

yourusername everyone on the grid plus any serious significant others get VIP entry courtesy of me and my team 💖😘

y/nhq we'll be reaching out soon to select the show

lilymhe you don't understand how excited this makes me!!

yourusername well I couldn’t celebrate without my girls (and their men too ig 🙄🤚)

oscarpiastri thanks a lot y/n

alexalbon anybody else feeling loved??

lewishamilton completely 🫶

user1 this will start world war 3 I can feel it

user2 this is the eras tour all over again

user3 except that was selling stadiums, these are small venues

user4 any f1 driver want to link up for a show?? you'll never have to speak to me ever again

user5 I regret to inform you babe, but I think this is the reason she said serious significant others...

user6 official tour soon?? Please mother??

yourusername oh so very soon...

load more

lewishamilton

liked by your username, georgerussel64, landonorris, and 379,268 others

lewishamilton "got lovestruck went straight to my head" <3

tagged yourusername

user1 crying throwing up

user2 quoting her song?? that's about him?? I'll be resting my eyes on the highway if anybody needs me

user3 my toaster looks like a fun bath bomb

yourusername "got lovesick all over my bed" <3

landonorris beautiful show, beautiful couple 🧡

yourusername 🧡

scuderiaferrari maybe we're colorblind but that doesn't look like Mercedes green

mercadesamgf1 watch your back

georgerussell64 👀

georgerussell64 slayed so hard

yourusername an honor from the meme king?? I'm not worthy

load more

yourusername

liked by Charles_leclerc, user9, lewishamilton, and 930,393 others

yourusername thank you to everyone who came out to a show this weekend!! I had a blast sining new stuff, covers, and old pieces with you all- the love I experienced was unreal!! I cannot wait to see what happens in the future 💖

To all those close to me, our relationships mean the absolute world!! Special love to Lewis who held my hand through my darkest time, showed me what a true relationship was, and gave me a perfect little boy (I love you Roscoe). Darling, its been a wonderful experience being with you <3

tagged y/nhq, landojpg

lewishamilton love you so much angel <3

georgerussell64 definitely gave me and Carmen the night of our lives!!

alexalbon the show was so amazing I almost forgot you flirted with my gf in the invitation

yourusername stay mad

lilymhe 🥵

Roscoelovescoco can I come next time??

yourusername I'll see what I can do...

landjpg thank you for photo creddits and well as the opportunity to photograph these unique shows

yourusername you didn't not dissapoint 👏👏 thank you for doing it

Charles_leclerc I had an amazing time!!!

carlossainze55 you should hear him try to speak, voice complelty gone

yourusername that's the kind of energy we all need

comments have been limited

[sleepygh0ulia]

. . . INTRODUCING MY HOGWARTS DR ! (heavily ib Lyrashifts)

About This dr takes place in 2024 (cs that medieval shit is for the birds) the wizarding world is a lot more modern, having cell phones, laptops, regular pencils and paper, etc etc.

🎀 [ABOUT ME ! ]

Name: Evangeline Eileen Prince

Nationality: American

Birthplace: Olney, Maryland

Languages: English, French, Spanish

Blood Status: Pureblood

House: Slytherin & Horned Serpent

Face claim:

🎀 [BACKSTORY ! ]

My biological parents are Severus and my bio mom Zariah, but when I was about 5 months old, they got a divorce. Severus moved back to the U.K, and me and my mom stayed in the U.S. When I was 3, she got remarried to my now step-dad Claude, and the year after that, they had my half-brother, Claude. (we call him jj) I lived in the states, 0 contact with Severus until I was 11. On my 11th birthday my mom told me that Severus always wanted to be in my life, and that she was the one pushing him away because she was afraid of me going to live with him. She gave me his phone number, and although it was awkward at first, I began to warm up to him more and more. He taught me a lot about potions and DADA, lowk he’s the only reason I passed my classes at Ivermourny. I started visiting him during breaks to make up for lost times. At the end of my 3rd year at Ivermourny, I asked my mom if I could go to Hogwarts, and live with Severus for the rest of my schooling, and visit her on holidays. She blew up at me and it was the longest we had gone without talking to each other, but after a month and a half of Claude trying to convince her, she finally gave in. She and Claude met with Severus in person, a month before term, and decided on ground rules and communication, and finally got everything settled. I stay with Severus the month before school starts to get robes and get accustomed to muggle and magical England.

🎀 [WARDROBE ! ]

I’ve kinda got a similar style to Momo from MHA, rich girl vibes, skirts and long sleeve shirts with mary jane’s, a nice bag, and cutesy leg warmers.

🎀 [LIFE AT HOGWARTS ! ]

Dorms: Students are 4 to a dorm, which includes a bed, a desk, a closet, 2 mini fridges, and 2 bathrooms. Once a student is assigned a dorm, the dorms decorate themselves to fit those students tastes. You and your dormmates also choose a password for your specific dorm room. Dorms are split in half, separated by gender, and in alphabetical order. All students are to be in a dorm by 11PM, and failure to do so will result in a 3 day detention at minimum. Girls and boys are allowed to be in each others dorms, but only with the permission of all students housed in said dorm room, a prefect, and the head of house. Different house sleepovers are also allowed but again with permission from both house heads, and same gender only.

Extracurriculars:

• Band

• Cheer team

• Student Council

• Art Club

• Gardening Club

• Care of Magical Creatures Club

• Astronomy Club

• Mythology Club

Events:

• An annual Christmas ball (except for the years we host the triwizard tourny)

• Bonfire to kick off the quidditch season

• Annual trips to another European country

• Halloween Masquerade ball

• The house elves put small buckets of candy in everyone’s dorm room on Halloween morning

🎀 [OTHER ! ]

Best friends: Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Roselynn Price, Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, Luna Lovegood

S/O: Alejandro Garcia

Pets: My pookie pie Binx

Happy shifting and manifesting!!

[roosterforme]

Beer Boy and Sugar: The Second Lost Year (Bradley Bradshaw x Reader)

Part of the Lost Years series for Beer Boy and Sugar

Warnings: language, longing, angst (series fits chronologically between Old Habits Die Hard and Right Girl, Wrong Time)

Banner by @mak-32

Year Two

Bradley dropped down on his bed and started to untie his boots while Nat looked around at everything on his desk. They were both about to start flying solo now, and it was such a relief that she was advancing in the program with him. It brought him a little bit of joy every time they left the others in the dust.

"I always liked this thing," she remarked, poking his Navy desk lamp as he set his boots under his bed. "You said it was your dad's, right?"

"Yeah. Makes it vintage," he replied with a grin as he lounged back on his pillows, already thinking about dinner in the mess hall. It was hot as hell outside, especially by Rhode Island standards, and it made him miss Virginia a little bit. "Are you ready for dinner?"

She groaned. "It's too hot to go outside and walk all the way to get food. Your air conditioner works better than mine, too. Can't we just stay in here?"

His stomach growled as he said, "All I got is some protein bars and instant mac and cheese. And I'm starving."

Nat started to poke at the book he was currently reading as she said, "I'll order us a pizza."

This was something he'd never get used to, even though he considered her his best friend. She always seemed to have money from her parents, and he had basically nothing. But she continually offered to share her food with him. Bradley wasn't exactly sure what he brought to this friendship, but she seemed to enjoy having him around, so he didn't bring it up.

"Fine," he agreed.

This seemed to make her happy as she fished her phone out of her pocket. "You want your usual topping choice?"

Bradley froze with his fingers pushed back in his messy hair. At first, he always ordered his pizza that way, because that's how you liked it. Now Nat thought it was his preference. But maybe it actually was?

"Yeah," he replied softly. "Please." 

Then he listened to her call it in while his thoughts drifted back to Virginia. He hadn't seen or heard from you in fourteen months, but he'd thought about you every single day. It hurt a little less now, but all the feelings were still there. He still looked at all the pictures he had saved on his phone. He thought about you when he touched himself. He still hadn't slept with anyone else since you.

"Why would you keep a differential equations notebook from UVA?" Nat mused, but he was barely listening to her as he thought about your body curled up against his while you wore his Grateful Dead shirt. "Did you even take advanced math?" 

When he finally registered what she said, he sat up in his bed and saw her holding your purple notebook. The one with all the doodles and love notes in the margins, and he felt like he was back in the study room with you on his lap. The breath was knocked from his lugs as a sheet of loose, folded paper fell onto her lap, and she picked it up and started to read it out loud.

"Dear Beer Boy, 

I'm bored in my calculus lecture, and I just started thinking about your bedroom door. It's still the hottest thing I've ever seen in my life. Maybe you and I could wait until the middle of the night when all of your fraternity brothers are asleep and sneak out into the hallway and-"

Bradley lunged out of bed and grabbed the note from her hand before she could see the rest. "What the fuck, Nat? That's personal!"

Her dark brown eyes were as wide as saucers as she said, "That was from her."

He knew she was kind of mystified by you, given that he only shared details of the happiest months of his adult life sparingly. She always asked for more information when he mentioned you, always wanted to know more. But Bradley felt like the magic would wear off the more he talked about you, so he always kept it brief. He also knew he wasn't going to get away with saying nothing right now.

"Yeah," he grunted, taking the purple notebook from her hands and returning the folded note to the back pages. The sight of your handwriting filled him with a deep need for you. "And this was her notebook."

Nat's voice was gentle, as if she was trying not to spook him when she asked, "Why did she like your door so much?"

Bradley closed his eyes and laughed quietly. "I painted over all the other girls' names and phone numbers. For her. Or for myself. I don't really know anymore."

Now her eyes were narrowed when he looked at her again. "'All the other girls'. Holy shit, Bradshaw. Were you some sort of fuckboy in college?"

He leaned back against his pillows again as he groaned, "Basically." He didn't really like thinking about it, because that hadn't been him for a long time now. "Before Sugar."

She took her phone out again, and Bradley desperately wished the pizza would arrive so this conversation could end. But Nat asked, "What was her last name again? I want to know exactly what she looks like."

He whispered the word, loving the feel of it on his tongue as he took his own phone out. He located the picture of him with his arm around your shoulders that Dev took the week before graduation. Your smile was too pretty, and your face was too perfect. There was a reason he had to limit himself, and the onslaught of feelings was proof of why: He wasn't over you yet.

"Here," he muttered, stretching his arm out to hand his phone to Nat, but she gasped as she looked at her own phone.

"She's gorgeous. I found her Instagram account."

"You did?" he asked, launching himself off of the bed and forcefully switching phones with her. She gasped again as she looked at the photo on his phone, but Bradley was too busy staring at the tiny thumbnail of your smiling face. Your account was set to private, but this photo must have been more recent. Your hair was styled differently, and the only thing he could process was that he felt relieved you were posing alone instead of with some other guy. He didn't want to have to put a face to that.

He thought about taking a screenshot and texting it to himself, but he couldn't. He wouldn't. And when Nat asked if he wanted her to send you a friend request, he said absolutely not. "You think I want her to know I still think about her every day? No."

Then she said, "But maybe she still thinks about you." 

Bradley didn't see how that was a possibility.

The pizza finally arrived just then, and Nat stood to go get it. She gave him a cautious hug and said, "I think she would be proud of you." She left him alone with both phones in his hands, and somehow he knew it would be easier to talk about you now if he wanted to.

------------------------

It was mind blowing. Three months ago, Chicago was freezing cold and practically encased in ice. Now it was blazing hot to the point that you couldn't get any relief unless you were inside your dorm room. It was Friday, thank goodness. Everyone in your graduate studies group wanted to go out for deep dish pizza tonight, and you had to figure out a way to stop sweating long enough to actually get dressed in something other than the shorts and tank you were wearing now.

You groaned as you carried your computer and textbooks across campus in your backpack. You had the highest grades out of all of the math graduate students, but you still took everything with you everywhere in case you had some extra time to study. But you should have left everything in your room instead on this sweltering day.

The quad was packed with tables and students participating in a career fair, but for some reason, this was where Jared asked you to meet up. Four dates with him, and you still weren't convinced it was a good idea to take things out of the friend zone. Four dates, and you still didn't really want to do anything besides kiss him. It wasn't that there was anything wrong with him, he just wasn't exactly right.

"Hey!" 

As soon as you heard Jared calling out for you, your initial reaction was to hide. You were absolutely going to have to tell him you didn't want to see him anymore, and it mostly made you mad that it would probably disrupt your friend group. 

"Hi," you replied as he squeezed through the crowd to get to you. And then he slipped his sweaty hand in yours, and you actually cringed. Why wasn't this what you wanted? After nearly a year, he wore you down enough that you gave it a try, but this was decidedly bad. Especially since you could picture exactly what you did want.

When you looked up at Jared's face, your gaze drifted to your left. You gasped and dropped his hand immediately. There were recruiters from the Navy. They were wearing flight suits. You caught a glimpse of wavy brown hair and a flash of dark eyes, and you were off.

Jared was calling after you as you fought through the crowd, catching glimpses here and there of broad shoulders and a handsome smile. Oh my god, he was here. Somehow, he was here. Like he'd just climbed out of your dreams and into the University of Chicago campus. 

"Bradley!"

Your voice rang out, but he didn't fully turn your way. You rushed a little faster, no longer caring if you knocked someone into one of the tables. 

"Bradley!"

But you stumbled as you reached the recruiters, and your smile evaporated from your lips. Tears stung at your eyes as he turned to face you, leaving your heart filled with disappointment. 

"Hey, there. I'm Lieutenant Chapman," he said with a grin, and you honestly didn't know how you could have been mistaken. His eyes were hazel, and his hair was too curly, and now you were standing there feeling like you'd just broken your own heart all over again. The disappointment could smother you if you let it.

You nodded and turned away as sweat dripped down your chest and an awful feeling settled into your stomach. You made your way back through the crowd at a much slower pace with no real desire to talk to Jared, but you reached him all too soon.

"What happened?" he asked, grabbing your hand again.

You looked at the ground and tried to hide your tears as he squeezed your hand tighter. "Sorry. I thought I saw an old friend."

He just made an impatient noise and asked, "You ready to go get changed and grab some pizza with everyone else? I thought we could ditch them early and maybe go back to my room and watch a movie? And like hang out... on my bed?"

His voice was distressingly hopeful. You wanted to say no. You knew you should. But you kept your eyes fixed on the ground as you said, "Sounds good," with almost no conviction. You wanted to get past this, so you needed to actually start trying.

-----------------------

Make it stop hurting. Or don't. I don't know. They must both already know they belong together. Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in the rest of this series!

@beyondthesefourwalls @thedroneranger @cherrycola27 @sorchathered @mamachasesmayhem @attapullman @bobgasm @desert-fern @startrekfangirl2233 @shanimallina87 @sylviebell @wkndwlff @horseslovers2016 @sadpetalsstuff @schoollover @jessicab1991 @lex-winchester @bellaireland1981 @sagittarius-flowerchild @marvelouslyme96 @trickphotography2 @goldenseresinretriever @rascallyrascals @auroracaroline @nerdgirljen @redbarn1995 @theweekndhistorybook @averyhotchner @moon42flight @eli2447 @lyn-js @na-ta-sh-aa @mygyn @je-suis-prest-rachel @kcloveswrestling @imnotcreativeenoughforthisblog @callsign-magnolia @eternalsams @lynnestra44 @shinzowosasageyoooo @tgmreader @princessofglitterland @backupbrii @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @averyhotchner @hookslove1592 @callsigns-haze

[spookypete-94]

Dark Horse-Pete's Place

Part 5

PriceXFem!reader

Reader is a single mother, working double shifts at a restaurant. Father of the child starts to become a problem while reader is at work and Price offers a solution. Slight age gap between reader around 25 and Price around 35. Will be around 3-5 Chapters once finished (Probably will be more about 6-8 chapters total now)

rested on your inner thigh as he drove back to Abel's school to pick him up. Silence echoed through the car, but it was welcomed after the physical activities that had just taken place. Your head leaned back into the head rest of the seat, rolling slightly from the laxed state you were currently in.

A rumble from John brought you back to attention. "Ya' alrigh' love?" he asked.

Turning your head to look at him you smiled and nodded. "I am." Hand reaching down to squeeze his. His eyes returned to the road, pulling into the school lot where Abel awaited outside the front with a group of kids. Noticing the car, he picked up his bookbag and what looked to be his bag of goodies he had acquired from his field trip. A grin placed upon his face stretched ear to ear.

"How was your day?" The normal question you asked as soon as you saw him at the end of the day.

"Great!" he said rustling around his bag. "I got something for you, John." Reaching forward you noticed he had an opal stone in his hand. It matched the one that was on your left finger.

"I thought it looked like Mom's and should give it to you. They had a bunch of fossils and rocks."

Leave it to your boy to remain so kind, thinking of others even when he is given money for himself. John's long calloused fingers passed the stone back and forth between his fingers.

"Was nice of you Abel," turning around in your seat fully to take in his beaming face entirely. "Did you get anything for yourself?"

"Couple of dinosaur models," he answered reaching back in the bag to show them to you.

John was only able to look at the stone, feeling shell shocked by the gift unable to explain why. The gift caused the gears to turn in his head.

"Thank you," John murmured quietly, turning his head over his shoulder to look at Abel. Still beaming his happiness on you both.

"What do you wanta' do today?" John asked. "Anywhere you want to go?" Still looking over at Abel.

"Pete's Pizza!" Abel exclaimed to him. Pete's Pizza was a restaurant with an arcade with kids games. Generally, you took him on his birthday, but figured it was fitting to celebrate today.

"Pete's Pizza it is." Placing the car into gear once more and starting in that direction.

Standing back on your wild night out, you watched Abel with John most of the time. Their interaction heartwarming. Your ex never gave you the chance to witness this opportunity…maybe if he had things would be different between the two of you.

They both played the games for a few hours before ordering pizza. Making sure it was Abel's favorite to end his perfect day. Walking outside, it was that perfect balance between spring and almost summer. The sun lazily going down behind the buildings of the city, casting long shadows on the sidewalks, the streetlights coming on.

This was always your favorite time of the day. Normally, this was the time you bonded with Abel the most, ending it on your way home from work. Instead, you got to spend more time with him today, making core memories. You wish it could be like this all the time.

It was the drive home you realized you didn't know how this would turn out. Would John want to stay with you at your place? You were just freshly married as of today. Or would he want to go back to his place of residence and live the life you knew little about.

Seeming as he could tell once again stressing, John reached over and took her hand placing it on the center console with his. Thumb stroking over the ring. Practice he seems to do often. John started asking questions about what Abel saw today, his favorite part, what he would do again if given the opportunity. For not having children he was slipping into this role quiet well. Listening to Abel speak, and John's swiping motion soothing your worried brain once more.

Once home, a later hour than you are ever unwinding, you started the bed time routine.

"Love, let's watch a movie on the couch. All of us, let the boy pick." John offered up instead, not wanting to end this good day entirely. Settling down on the couch, you placed yourself in between John's legs leaning into his chest while Abel laid down on the other side. Abel was already in his pajamas, snuggling a blanket and a pillow tuned into the tv.

John's large hand began betting down your hair, smoothing it against you.

"You don' have to work anymore if you don' wan to…" his voice lolled underneath of you, hot breath brushing against your ear. "Make enough you could stay home."

It had caught you off guard, glancing over at Abel you see he had fallen asleep more then likely why John was starting this conversation. Keeping a low octave matching John's, "You've done more than enough. Allowing me to use your lawyer is a debt I can never repay."

"Lawyer is free. And you're already doin' somethin' else for this old man," hand slipping from the top of your head and pressing against your stomach. "35, and want one of my own," his brown pits of honey looking up at Abel. "Love that kid like my own but want as many as you're willin' to give me. Don' have to work anymore." He repeated. Laying your head back against his chest, allowing him to rest against the top of yours.

"Can't leave Kate hanging… She's done so much for me."

"So go part time. Work lunch while Abel is at school. Be off when he's done."

Thinking it over, it would be a way to make your own income still. Abel being away at school even when you move into the new house, boredom would more than likely set in.

"Not a bad idea…"

"There will be times I won't be here," his tone direct. "But we can have nights like this when I am. Everythin' is going to be taken care of one way or another. Want to meet with the lawyer on Monday before things start to get rollin' though… And if you're ok with it, I'd like to take Abel out this weekend to go fishin' with me and the other boys."

"Boys," you said jokingly, knowing which "boys" he was referring to. "You're not much older than them."

"Old enough that they are my boys still. Act like children sometimes…most times but act right when the time comes." A warm smile on his face while he spoke of them. Returning to his original thought and conversation, he gave a light shake of his head. "Will only take him if you’re comfortable. Figure getting to spend time with him is important right now so he learns to trust me… and maybe hanging out with men who are good men might not be a bad idea." His last comment sly, trying to give a dig at your ex.

"You just called them boys a few seconds ago," a light laughing scoff leaving you.

"My boys are men compared to him." A dark undertone coating his comment. "Know for a fact none of them would ever treat you like something stuck to the bottom of their shoe."

Hesitant still, but giving the first answer that came to mind wanting to end the conversation about your ex. "If Abel wants to go, I'm more than willing to let him."

His hand resuming to pet your hair once more after your answer. Abel stirring at the end of the couch caught both of your attention. He was still sleeping but looking rather uncomfortable in his corner.

"Goin' t' take him to bed. Sit tight," John said leaning forward from behind you and slipping out. Watching his large figure bending down and picking Abel up as if he weighed nothing and carrying him off. Abel's head slouched against John's shoulder making you smile. You couldn't help but wonder if his actual father does the same thing for him at his house.

It wasn't too long before John was back in the living room, long shadow stretching out on the floor first before his he entered the room. He stood in the doorway of the living room off the hallway, a smile on his face while he looked at you. There was something dark about this smile, but his eyes glinted with mischief.

"He's tucked in," arms extending up as he leaned against the door frame, "Still out like a light."

"What are you askin'?" shifting slightly, a coy smile on your face, fully knowing what he was suggesting.

He didn't answer, instead he almost sauntered to you before he pounced on to the couch. Pressing you against the cushions, mouth and teeth attached to your neck and shoulder working their way up to your ear.

"You sang earlier, think you can be quiet this time? Can't be waking Abel now…" He was teasing you, a hand already in the top of your dress, the other reaching up your skirt not giving you the chance to answer. Fingers pinching a rosey peak of your breast and hooking your already come soiled panties from earlier and pulling them down. When you arrived home he didn't even give you the chance to change... he didn't care. Burying your face into his shoulder biting down to be able to stay quiet, saving yourself the embarrassment of waking your son.

The happiness from today left John blinded. He was unaware of the tail that had followed you both most of the day. In the shadows your ex had followed you to the courthouse, out to the new house property and bearing witness to the acts of a new marriage.

Rage building within him, but what really made him upset was John entertaining Abel… and you just standing by idle allowing it to happen. Playing games and sharing dinner with him. Here this man you barely knew, swooped in and saved you. Made sure you and Abel were safe and was willing to lay down and bleed for you. And bleed he shall, your ex thought. A plan was forming in his head… but he just needed John to step away for only a moment before he would swoop in. Sink his claws into you and surely Abel will follow.

Previous

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Captain John Price Masterlist

taglist:

@cutiecusp @angeldemon28 @simplyymee98 @beebeechaos @cadotoast @talooolaaloolla @lhhlver @hon3y-cloud @spktrgantenk @generalruinsexpert

[legacygirlingreen]

Something New... || Captain Rex x OFC! Mae

May01st Day 1 : New Experiences

Author's Note: First day of May01st! It's my first time participating in this event, so I am excited at the opportunity for this fandom event to push my story along with Rex & Mae. It can be so motivating to have a bit of structure. If you are new to their story, they exist within @leenathegreengirl's PabuAU, however since Rex is our beloved 501 Captain, I figured he'd fit right in with the celebration. Tagged below I have my masterlist where their story is listed in order, as well as the previous section. Art, as always is by @leenathegreengirl. Anywho, happy to be around for @may01st 💙

Summary: For the first time, Rex wakes with another by his side, awash in the tender stillness of shared morning light, and finds himself wordless before the quiet wonder of it all.

Word Count: 2.6k+

Warnings: non sexual intimacy, kissing, honestly just a lot of fluff, they are flirty, but what else is new

Rating: SFW (with some kissing)

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Rex had told her, the night of the wedding, that if he crawled into bed beside her, he wouldn't want to leave. At the time, it had sounded like an exaggeration. In hindsight, it hadn’t even come close.

As dawn stirred him from sleep, it took a few seconds to remember where he was. Everything that had happened. The memories returned like a wave crashing over him—sudden, relentless. Storming back to her. That kiss.

And the ones that followed…

Somewhere along the way, those kisses gave way to quiet conversation. To slow, tender touches. The kind of love that grows in the hush of midnight, yet burns with a fierce, unspoken fire. The kind that made his skin hum with anticipation. A moment stolen from the world, wrapped in the warmth of her room. He couldn’t say when they’d finally drifted off. Only that, when he opened his eyes, he knew sleep had claimed them both.

But somehow, the details of waking up felt sharper, more vivid, than the hazy blur of how he'd fallen asleep. There was a warmth pressing gently against his chest—a comforting weight rather than a burden. Crimson curls spilled across the blanket like a flame, a striking contrast to the pale linen. Her dark lashes cast soft shadows on her cheeks. Lips slightly parted, she exhaled in quiet, steady breaths that kissed his skin with every rise and fall.

Breathtaking.

It was the kind of sight that left him utterly still, caught off guard in the best way. He’d seen her in every shade of life—frazzled and laughing during long shifts at work, windblown and sun-kissed after a day at the beach, radiant and playful during their group date, glowing under the lights at the wedding. But none of those versions held a candle to this one.

Here, in the hush of early morning, she looked ethereal. As if she belonged to a dream he didn’t want to wake from. There was a delicate sort of beauty in her restfulness, something quiet and unguarded that struck him deep.

He wasn’t sure how long he stared, taking her in, memorizing the shape of her so close to him. And though he’d meant to let her sleep, he couldn’t help himself. His self-control had slipped the moment he opened his eyes and found her there.

Shifting just enough to reach her, he pressed a soft kiss to the bridge of her nose. A silent gesture, small and reverent. He hadn’t meant to wake her—only to show some trace of the awe she stirred in him. She looked too perfect not to be cherished in that way.

The kiss was featherlight, barely more than a breath—but it was enough.

Mae stirred, her brows twitching faintly before her lashes fluttered open. For a moment, she didn’t move, her gaze unfocused, caught between sleep and waking. Then her eyes found his, and the faintest smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

“Morning,” she murmured, her voice still wrapped in dreams, soft and rough in the way that always made his chest ache a little.

“Didn’t mean to wake you,” he whispered, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek.

“I don’t mind,” she said, shifting slightly but not moving away. Her head rose and fell with the rhythm of his breathing, content to stay where she was, curled into him like she belonged there.

He watched her eyes search his face, still lazy with sleep, but present—anchored to him in a way that made everything else fall quiet.

“You were staring,” she added, her voice teasing now, but gentle.

“I was appreciating,” he said, voice low and sincere, his fingers tracing the gentle slope of her shoulder. “You looked... beautiful.”

Mae blinked slowly, as if the words needed a moment to sink in, to settle somewhere deep inside her. Then she leaned forward, nuzzling her forehead to his collarbone, her arms winding around him with just a little more urgency, like she needed to feel all of him at once.

“Tell me this is real,” she murmured, her voice a sleepy whisper edged with wonder. “And I’m not dreaming you up.”

He smiled, the kind that touched his eyes, and pulled her closer. “It’s real,” he said simply, with the quiet certainty of someone who didn’t want to be anywhere else in the world.

She exhaled, the sound part sigh, part laugh, like the tension she didn’t even realize she was holding had finally let go.

“Good,” she breathed. “Because if this is a dream, it’s just cruel.”

His hand moved to her back, smoothing over the fabric of her slip, anchoring her to the moment. “Cruel?” he echoed, amused. 

Mae tilted her head up just enough to meet his eyes, a small, playful smirk forming. “No way reality is this generous.”

He leaned in then, brushing his lips over her temple. “I think for once it might be,” he said, the words warm against her skin. 

She didn’t reply right away—just curled herself back into him, one leg sliding gently over his, her breath syncing with his like she’d been made to fit there.

And for a few minutes more, neither of them spoke. The morning unfolded slowly around them—soft light, the hush of a quiet house, the weight of shared warmth and promises left unspoken but understood.

Rex had never lingered in bed just to enjoy it. Sleep, to him, had always been a tactical necessity—a calculated pause in movement, meant only to recharge a body that was expected to endure, perform, and press on. It was something scheduled, accounted for. A requirement, not a comfort.

Even then, he frequently denied himself that basic need. Sleep, more often than not, brought the things he didn’t want to see. Shadows of the past. Faces he couldn’t forget. Orders he couldn’t take back. It was never peace—it was silence filled with ghosts.

And the beds? Standard-issue GAR mattresses had done little to make rest feel like anything other than a temporary ceasefire. Thin blankets, stiff sheets, and cold barracks did not invite dreams—they held reminders. The idea of sleep being a gentle or warm thing had never even occurred to him.

But this?

This was a luxury he’d never imagined for himself.

Waking with her beside him—no, in his arms—felt like stepping into an entirely different world. The soft heat of her body against his. The steady rhythm of her breath, the delicate weight of her leg draped over his, her presence a quiet tether to something real and good. There was no mission to plan for, no alarm to beat. Just her. Just this moment.

And the soul inside her—that deep, bright thing he had barely allowed himself to hope for—was wrapped around him just as surely as her arms were.

It wasn’t just about warmth, or touch. It was the feeling of being wanted. The knowledge that, for once, he was allowed to rest without fear. That love could live in stillness.

It shifted something in him.

This was new. Unfamiliar. Untrained territory. But even in its unfamiliarity, it felt right. And more than that—he wanted it. Again and again, for as long as life would let him.

He wasn’t sure how long they lay like that, wrapped in each other and in silence, but eventually Mae stirred against him, her fingers drawing slow, absentminded patterns along his chest.

“You’re quiet,” she said softly, her voice still thick with sleep, but curious. “What’re you thinking about?”

He looked down at her, heart tugging at how completely at ease she looked in his arms. “This,” he answered, his voice low and a little rough. “How… different it feels. ”

Mae smiled, brushing her nose gently against his collarbone. “I hope different isn't a bad thing.”

“No,” he said, his hand drifting to her back, fingers splaying across the curve of it. “It’s just… I’ve never had this before. A morning like this. Waking up next to someone I care about. Not rushing off to do something. Not bracing myself for what comes next. Just… being here.”

She pulled back just enough to look at him, eyes soft, full of understanding. “Yeah. Me too.” A breathy laugh slipped from her. “I didn’t know waking up like this could feel this good. Like the world stopped spinning for a minute.”

He gave a quiet chuckle, his thumb brushing her side. “That’s exactly it. It’s like everything else got quiet, and this—” he looked into her eyes, “—this is all I can hear.”

Mae leaned up and kissed his jaw, then let her head rest just beneath it. “You deserve this, you know,” she said. “Peace.”

“I didn’t think it was in the cards for me,” he admitted. “Not the way life’s been. Not with the things I’ve seen. You make it feel possible.”

She fell quiet for a moment, like she was letting his words settle somewhere soft inside her. Then, barely above a whisper, she said, “I want to be that for you… if you’ll let me.”

His arm tightened around her instinctively, protectively, and he pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of her head. “I already have,” he murmured, the truth of it woven into every syllable.

Mae let out a quiet hum, her face still tucked against his skin, her voice almost shy. “Just… double-checking you haven’t changed your mind between last night and now.”

The words weren’t sharp—they were half-teasing, almost playful—but he heard the flicker of vulnerability beneath them. The part of her that had been hurt before. The part that still wasn’t used to being chosen and kept.

Rex pulled back slightly, enough to guide her chin up with the crook of his fingers, needing her to see his face—his certainty.

“I wouldn’t have done what I did if I wasn’t sure,” he said, his voice low but steady. “Mae, I took my time because I had to be sure. There were so many times I wanted to cross that line with you, and I held back every single one of them.”

Her brows lifted slightly, lips parting as if she hadn’t expected that kind of confession.

“I waited,” he continued, brushing his thumb lightly along her jaw, “because I didn’t want there to be any doubt in my mind—or yours. I wanted to know that when I kissed you, when I let myself fall... there’d be no looking back.”

Mae blinked, eyes softening with each word. “And now?”

“Now,” he said, leaning in until their foreheads touched, “I’m all in. No second-guessing. No retreat.”

She let out a slow breath, the last of her hesitation unraveling in the quiet between them. Her fingers curled against his chest as she whispered, “Good. Because I don’t think I could’ve let you go... even if you tried.”

Rex couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips—soft, real, a little stunned by how much that one sentence affected him. He leaned in and kissed her—this time on the mouth, slow and sure. It wasn’t just affection; it was an answer, a promise, a steady grounding between two people who’d spent too long denying what they felt.

Mae hummed against his lips, a low sound that made his pulse thrum a little harder. He felt her nails lightly drag along the back of his neck, her fingers weaving into the short strands of his blond hair as she shifted, letting more of her weight melt against him. Her body fit along his like a final puzzle piece sliding into place—no gaps, no spaces left untouched.

And though neither of them wanted to pull away, air eventually became necessary. When they finally parted, breathless but smiling, Rex opened his eyes to find Mae propped slightly above him, her face bathed in soft morning light.

Awake now. Present. Glowing.

She looked down at him like she was seeing something new, something precious.

He admired the way her curls framed her face, how her lips were still pink from the kiss, how her eyes held something brighter now—certainty, maybe. Or hope.

“Well,” she said, her voice light and teasing now, fingers still dancing through the short hairs at the back of his neck, “Good morning again, Captain.”

Rex let out a quiet laugh, his hands slipping down to her sides as if to steady himself. “You can’t say it like that,” he groaned dramatically, though a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“What way?” she asked, her eyes gleaming with mischief. She leaned in closer, her breath warm against his skin as she whispered with exaggerated flair, “Captain.”

Rex’s smile faded into something more playful, and he grabbed her waist with more intensity, pulling her body down onto his. “You know exactly what you’re doing.” His voice lowered, but there was a teasing edge to it. “Evil. You’re an evil woman.”

“Evil?” Mae’s laughter bubbled up, clearly delighted by his response. She raised an eyebrow, the mock disbelief clear in her tone. “Me?”

Rex nodded, his fingers grazing the skin of her sides as he held her tighter, a gleam in his eyes. “Using my rank like that? It’s diabolical.” He raised an eyebrow in mock outrage. “It’s using a weapon on an unarmed man.”

Mae grinned wider, the playful tension between them only heightening as she lightly ran her fingers through his hair again. “Oh, so now I’m a weapon?” she teased, as though savoring every word. “I like the sound of that.”

“You are,” Rex affirmed, his hands sliding along her hips. “A weapon of total destruction. You’ve officially rendered me helpless.”

Mae laughed again, the sound light and easy, like a melody that only existed between them. “Guess I should be careful with all this power,” she teased, her voice still playful but softened with affection, a hint of something more serious lingering in the way she looked at him.

Rex smiled, the warmth in his chest spreading as he pulled her closer, brushing his lips lightly over her temple. “Too late for that,” he murmured, his voice quiet but full of certainty. “You’ve already got me exactly where you want me.”

Mae rested her forehead gently against his, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw with a tender touch. She looked at him with a softness he hadn’t seen before, her eyes filled with something deeper. “I’m starting to think that’s exactly where I want you, too,” she whispered, her breath warm against his skin.

Rex let out a quiet hum, his lips curling into a smile as he held her a little tighter. “Spoiling me, Doc,” he said, voice playful but with a hint of appreciation.

She grinned, leaning down to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, her lips lingering there for a moment. “Careful,” she warned, her voice soft and teasing, “I might get used to spoiling you like this.”

He chuckled, his hands settling comfortably around her waist, pulling her just a bit closer. “Not sure I’d complain,” he murmured, his eyes tracing the curve of her face as if he couldn’t quite believe this moment was real. “Actually… I think I could get very used to it.”

Mae’s smile softened, and she let out a breath, settling into him completely. The quiet between them felt warm, comforting—a space where neither of them needed to rush. “Good,” she whispered, her voice steady now, a hint of contentment there. “Because I’m not planning on stopping anytime soon.”

For a long moment, they stayed like that—wrapped up in each other, letting the world outside fade into nothing. It was simple. It was peaceful. And for the first time in a long time, Rex didn’t feel the weight of a thousand responsibilities. All that mattered was the warmth of Mae beside him, and the quiet promise of more mornings just like this.