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lokissuper · 4 years ago

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Reunion| Dean Winchester x Reader

(So I made a post about this a while ago, this specific idea. Now that im starting to get into writing I thought why not do it myself. So, in this Dean and the reader are dating but also have a kid together. Also, the reader is like a daughter to john so he sees her as so. thx xxoo i will always take feedback and support since im new to this)

“Dean! Sam! I’m home,” I yelled when entering the bunker.

Walking down the steps from the door I saw that they around the table in the library. Dead sitting there drinking a beer and Sam looking down at something in his hands, I spoke again, “ Is that it? The thing that is gonna save Dean.”

“Yeah,” Sam said looking at me then over to Dean, “Are you sure you don’t want to call Mom or wait for Cas?”

Dead stood up,” No. If this mojo works like you say, that’s great. But if not...why get their hopes up? I mean you and Y/n being here is fine, I just don’t wan’t you getting your hopes up either.” Dead looked at me then back at Sam, I nodded at him for an okay.

“Yeah.” Sam whispered, “Just hold the pearl and concentrate on what your heart desires.”

Dean was handed the pearl, “Michael outta my head. Got it.” Picking up the pearl he looks at me for assurance.

“It’s gonna be fine baby, if it doesn’t work then we’ll figure something else out,” I nodded at him again.

He looked down at the pearl and closed him eyes shut, and squeezed the pearl in his hand. The electricity crackled, and Sam and I looked at each other as Dean eyes open again. The lights in the bunker turned red, “What the hell?” I spoke quietly. As Sam turned around he saw a dark figure and he lunged at it, me following behind him. The figure punched Sam and I attacked from behind along with Dean, we got a couple of hits in before the mysterious person knocked us to the ground. I groaned, hitting the wood floor but I got over it soon as I heard a gun cock.

“Don’t you move,” the dark figure threatened.

We all looked at each other then the lights turned back on, we looked up at the man before us. I saw Deans eyes widened and I took a sharp intake of breath, same as Sam.

“Dad?” Dean asked in question.

“John?” I whispered.

The older Winchester looked in question at the three of us on the floor. He finally spoke up,” Dean? Sam? What in the hell? Y/n?” He looked around himself, puzzled at what he found. Sam and Dean slowly got up, Dean helping me up too.

John continued to speak,”Sammy. Aren’t you supposed to be in Palo Alto?”

“Palo Alto?” Sammy repeated, looking taken aback by the words.

“What happened to you,” John questioned.

Dean and I still staring at the exchange, Dean finally spoke up,” What year is it?”

John scoffs at us,” Its 2003.” I took a tiny step toward him, the man who raised me. “John, it’s 2019,” I spoke in shock. He looked skeptical at all of us, not believing the words that were just said.

“No. How?”

Sam started to sound a little louder, finally finding his voice,” We, uh, I think we summoned you.”

He looked at us like we were crazy,” You guys better tell me what the hell is going on right now.” We nodded at him, actually moving at this point.

“I think we should sit down.” I looked at him.

We had made our way to the kitchen and sat down at the table, finally able to catch our breaths after what just happened. Dean and I grabbing some alcohol knowing it would be needed for the future conversation. I knew in the back of my head that Mary was gonna come home soon, and it would be an emotional mess. She had left earlier with Dean and I’s son, wanting to have a day with him.

Dean and I made our way into the kitchen setting down the whiskey and some glasses. Finally sitting down, Dean poured all of us a glass getting ready to talk.

After telling John about what happened after Yellow-Eyes, sparing the details about Mary and our son. He sat back to take it in, a moment later he spoke,” So, you saved the world? More than once?”

We nodded.

“Then its all true. God, the Devil, and you kids smack in the middle. Now you live in a secret bunker with an angel and Lucifer’s kid.” John said, mind boggled.

“Yeah.” We all spoke together.

“And you’ve done this whole time travel thing before?” John asked.

“A few times,” I looked at him. Dean nodded to my words, finding words himself,” Actually, our grandfather, your dad he’s the one that helped us find this place. I think he’d be real happy to know your finally here.”

They started to talk about the Men of Letters and how Dean and Sam were legacies. John not being able to believe how much we have been through, he spoke” I just wish that I had been there to see it. I went out takin’ out Yellow Eyes. I mean, that was the point, right? Get the thing that killed Mom.” He sipped on his drink nodding. All of us looking at each other, Sam and Dean finally catching on to the fact Mary could be home any minute. Just as Sam was going to tell John, we heard two pairs of footsteps.

“ Mommy!” I heard a tiny voice yell. I then saw my sons little face peak out and run towards Dean and I.

“Hey baby! Did you have fun?” I smiled at the small child in my arms.

“Yeah, me and Nana went shopping,” He spoke back to me.

John looked between me and the 4 year old in my arms. He spoke lowly,” Mommy? You have a kid?”

“Yeah, he’s your grandson.” I heard my boyfriend spoke from beside me.

John got teary eyed, “What’s his name? How old is he?”

“His names John Robert Winchester, after you and Bobby. But we do call him Johnny from time to time. Why don’t you show your Papa how old you are?” I asked with tears starting to grow in my eyes too.

Johnny lifted up his fingers showing the number four. I laughed and so did John,” That’s good.”

John smiled at his grandson, but it faltered when he heard a second voice coming from the hallway.

“Sam? Dean? Johnny?” Mary’s voice shouted.

Johns eyes got soft,”Mary?” He turned around at saw Mary standing in the doorway. They locked eyes with each other and they walked toward one another, sharing a kiss. I looked at Sam and Dean nodding at the door, trying to say we should give them some time.

I departed from the boys so I could go into mine and Deans room with Johnny. I still couldn’t believe that John was back and how happy Dean must be. It was all he ever wanted, I couldn’t count how many times he told me he wished he could just have one night with his family again. I looked down at Johnny in my arms and smiled.

“Mommy, who was that man with Nana?” he asked me.

I set him down on the bed and sat in front of him.,” That was your grandpa John. I told you that you were named after your Papa, right?” Johnny nodded at me. “Well that was him. Him and Nana are like me and your Daddy.” I spoke to him.

Dead then walked into the room locking eyes with me. “Hey buddy,” Dean spoke softly to his son. Johnny looked at me and then at his Dad, “Is Papa John here to meet me Daddy?”

Dean looked at Johnny and smiled, kneeling down beside me he said,” Your grandfather travels all over the world and is very busy. He has always wanted to meet you, and now he finally is able to see you.”

Johnny smiled,” Can I go see him?” Dean and I nodded at the happy child sitting in front of us. Dean stood up and told me that he was gonna go check up on his Mom, and that I could bring Johnny to John.

I walked through the hallways into the Library and saw that John was looking at the books on the shelves. I set Johnny down, and at the noise John turned around. I looked at him in the eye and smiled, Johnny walked over to his grandpa. “Mommy told me that I was named after you,” Johnny spoke up to John. He nodded to his grandson,”Seems that way doesn’t it.”

I walked up to John and said to him,” He is just like Dean in so many ways and with that I can see some of you too. Mostly the stubbornness. ” He smiled at me, and brought me into a hug. I grinned wrapping my arms around him, I heard him say,” It was about damn time you and Dean got together.” I laughed and pulled myself away from him.

“Yeah, I think after what happened with Yellow Eyes it brought us closer together. He tried to pull himself away like he always does but I wouldn’t let him, and I think that’s what caused us to get together.” I sighed but continued on,” We were dating 8 years and then had Johnny, it still blows my mind four years later and we are still going strong.” John smiled at me.

He looked down at Johnny but still spoke to me,” After 12 years and he still hasn’t popped the question. God, I’m gonna need to get on him about that.” I laughed at him. John looked down at Johnny and spoke to him,” You have the best mother and father in the world. Don’t you forget that.”

Johnny nodded his head,” I know. They always tell me you are the best like Nana.” John looked at me and smiled.

“No, your Nana is better than me in every way.” John laughed at the little boy, me laughing along with him.

I looked over at John,” Do you know where Sam went?”

“Him and Dean were gonna head out and grab some stuff for that casserole Mary likes to make,” he responded.

I nodded.

I bent down toward Johnny and spoke lightly, “How about you and Papa John go and hang out for a while.”

Johnny smiled wide,” Okay!”

He grabbed his grandfather by the hand and led him away. I smiled softly at the image now burned in my brain.

“I can’t believe this, we just got him back Dean.” I spoke sternly. “Johnny finally met his grandfather.”

Dean had pulled me aside when him and Sam got back explaining how everything is changing now that John was back.

“I know. But there is something else too,” He looked down at his feet. I looked at him sternly.

“What else?” I asked.

Dean took in a sharp breath before continuing on,” If he stays, it is gonna be like Mom was never here. It’s because we would have never clashed heads with God or the Darkness.” I got teary eyed and tried to say something but Dean held up his hand. He began to speak again,” Also, if he stays Sam thinks that Johnny’s gonna go too. Like you and I never got together because we only ever got together because of Dads death. I already talked to Dad about it.”

I started to silently cry thinking about not having Johnny and not being with Dean. As the tears were falling down my face I asked,” What did John say?”

He pulled me to his chest,”He said that he’s okay with going. That there is no way he is gonna be the reason his grandson can’t grow up, or Mom not being alive again.”

I looked up at him crying harder now, seeing he starting to shed tears too.

“This sucks,” I said.

“I know, but it’s what he wants.” Dean responded.

I leaned forward and pecked him on the lips then nodded, “Okay.”

Dean then pecked mine back before saying, “ I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

We had sat down for dinner, something I knew Dean had always wanted. It was hard to avoid the inevitable but it was good to just be carefree for a while.

When it was time for John to go back, I had Johnny say goodbye before telling him to go to his room. Me and Dean still not wanting him to be exposed to magic yet.

Dean, Sam, John, Mary and I all stood in a circle together, ready to see him off. All of us teary eyed and trying to hold in sobs.

Mary was the first to speak up, “I hate this.”

In which John responded, “So do I.”

John then began to talk to all of us,” Okay.” Looking over at Mary he spoke,”My girl. I miss you so damn much.” Before they kissed each other, for the last time. John then looked at the boys,” You two. You take care of each other.”

Sam responded,” We always do.”

Dean spoke lightly, “It’s good to see you Dad.”

John sniffled, looking between his sons, “ I am so proud of you boys.” He then turned to me, seeing me there crying.

“And you, I am so proud of the woman you have become. Your no longer that little teenager anymore.” he spoke wiping his eyes before looking between Dean and I.

“You guys deserve each other and that little boy in there. I never thought I would see the day where Dean would grow some balls and ask you out but, here we are,” he said as we all laughed. “You guys take care of that boy, you here me,” John continued.

He then looked sternly at Dean,” If I have to come back just to make sure you finally ask this woman to marry you, I will.”

We all laughed again. John then leaned forward and brought the three of us into a hug.

“I love you guys so much.”

Dean sniffled before saying,”We love you too.”

John pulled away telling us he was ready. He looked at us all one last time, before Sam broke the pearl. We watched as the man we all loved faded away.

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harryspet · 5 years ago

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ahh i love your writing and your dark!peter fics are the best, could we get a darkfic of peter bullying/harassing the reader and then things escalate if you know what i mean ??

rude boy | peter parker

[Warnings] dark peter parker x reader, bully peter, verbal/physical harassment, noncon/dubcon, fingering, public sex, mentions of intercourse/oral sex, peter being a jerk, fish sticks

A/N: I combined your ask with another bully peter request I got! I’ll post that asks right after this. Hope you like this!

In which Peter can’t make up his mind about whether he loves or hates you.

word count: almost 3k

Your gaze fell down to your lap as he entered the classroom. Everyone else’s seemed to lift, admiring their classmate who famously saved the world several times. It was safe to say that the fame had gone to his head. You nervously played with the ends of your skirt as you waited for the commotion in the room to die down and for the class to start.

That didn’t happen because an unfamiliar person slid onto the stool beside you and you lifted your head to see Peter. He gave you a bored look as he looked you over, “What’s up, fish sticks?”

Your eyes shut tightly as you winced at the name. He knew it got under your skin and loved to watch you squirm. He nudged your arm, “Hmm?”

Everyone remembered that time in fifth grade, on the trip to the aquarium, where you threw up your packed lunch on one of the employees. Your mom had packed you fish sticks and, as you sat through one of their fun presentations, one of the presenters picked you to come up to the stage. You were shy, even back then, and as he asked you something you learned that day, you completely lost your lunch on his shoes. This all led to one of your classmates shouting, “She barfed up her fish sticks!” and laughter ensued.

Even Peter seemed to think it was still funny, “You’re not my partner, Peter,” You said, not meeting his eyes.

“Now I am,” Your heart skipped a beat as you heard him, “I can’t work with Ned anymore, he sucks at cooking and I need a good grade in this class.”

You looked back at Peter’s normal seat to see your family and consumer science partner sitting with Ned. You liked her and she always did her fair share of the work. You were sure the opposite would be true for Peter.

Peter faked a smile at you, “So what are we cooking today? Fish sticks?”

You took a deep breath, your hands tapping nervously at the table, “You could try looking at the board,” You felt him scoot his stool closer to you, his body leaning over the counter.

“I think I’ll just look at you instead,” Your breathing hitched in your throat as he leaned into your ear. Just as he did, your teacher entered the room. You thought she was a good teacher, she graded easily, and Peter must’ve been a complete idiot to not be doing well. Clearly, this wasn’t his subject of expertise.

The room was set so each station had its own oven, stove, and appliances. This unit was all about cooking and today you were making dessert. Your teacher gave you a list of instructions before adding that you should all make sure you’re following safety protocols.

You stood up from your stool, mostly just to get some space from Peter and walked over to grab an apron.

The assignment went much worse than you expected. Peter refused to even lift a spoon or even wear an apron. He sat by as you did all the work, only offering to lick the spoon clean when you were finished with it. The times he got off his butt were to walk over to Ned’s table to chat with him.

“You’re good at this,” Peter said, as you poured the batter into a cake tin. You were a little out of breath from running around to grab supplies, “You should come over and make me a sandwich sometime.”

You bit down on the inside of your cheek, trying to keep yourself from responding.

As soon as you got your cake into the oven, you took a deep breath, taking a look at the clock to see if you were going to finish on time, “Can you chill? You’re stressing me out.”

You rested your hands against the counter, “I’m …” Your voice raised only for a moment before you lowered it, “I’m stressing you out?”

Peter noticed your frustration and smirked, “Awe, I’m joking fish sticks. You’re doing great,” He winked.

Maybe you could talk to the teacher, tell her that you and Peter were not a good fit together. She’d ask you why you didn’t want to be partners and then you would have to tell her … and facing Peter after that would be a nightmare. You shook your head at the thought and convinced yourself you could go the rest of the semester doing the work all by yourself.

You were going to get into a good school, especially with the number of clubs you were a part of and the one that you created yourself. A book club because you loved reading and school was lacking one. There were four members in total including you and your friend Jess. If you wanted your club to seem serious on college applications then you needed more members.

Jess had the idea of hanging up banners and flyers during the free period and, of course, you were all in.

You went around the school with a ladder the janitor lent you and hung up your homemade posters. You were hanging a large banner towards the front of the school when the bell suddenly rang, ending the free period.

“Just a few more inches to the left,” Jess instructed you and you slowly moved the poster to the position she wanted before Jess reached up to hand you the tape.

There was something about you that Peter couldn’t quite wrap his head around. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t attracted to you. It was something about the snooty, preppy way you dressed that he a distaste for but turned him on to you at the same time. You were so intelligent but corruptible still. It was quite frustrating knowing you’d only see him as a nuisance.

He watched the back of your legs, your skirt slightly rose as you taped up your poster. He thought about those baby pink panties you were probably wearing.

You were admiring your work when suddenly the ladder shook and, for a moment you thought you might fall back until you barely caught yourself. A sharp shriek left your lips and the hall went silent until everyone was staring at you and then chuckling. You felt your cheeks warm as you quickly stepped down the ladder.

You looked around the culprit and found Peter walking backward in the other direction. He smiled, “See you at book club, fish sticks!”

Your hands formed a fist at your side as you gave Jess an incredulous look.

“Sorry,” She apologized, but you were already marching away.

Two weeks later, you were in a crowded subway car heading to school. Some soft pop song was playing in your headphones and you were swaying your head slightly to the music. Your eyes traveled around as you people watched.

You had done this route every day but you found yourself getting nervous now when you thought about school. Peter had seemed to take a special liking to you and wouldn’t leave you alone. He made you do all his work in family and consumer sciences and he’d make sure to shout something embarrassing at you when you saw him in the hall.

A few days ago you were heading to your lunch table with your tray when he walked up to you, “Sit with me today,” He had told you, eyes more serious than you had ever seen them.

“Why?” You asked.

“Because I said so,” He continued and you raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t think I can take any more fish stick jokes,” Anger settled over his features and it scared you, “No, but thank you.”

Any day before this, you would’ve said yes just because of how much he scared you. He was a superhero and what were you? Nothing. And everyone saw you that way. You were just tired of him torturing you.

You should’ve trusted your instincts because as you walked around him, you lost your balance, and tripped over his outstretched foot. The cafeteria went quiet and you moaned in pain as you pulled yourself up. Your spaghetti was now staining your bright colored sweater.

Peter leaned down, “Forgive me for trying to be nice to you, Y/N,” He held out his hand for you to take and, you only stared at him, before standing up yourself. Jess rushed over, napkins in hand, but you were already running from the cafeteria, tears stinging your eyes.

You shook your head as you tried to stop thinking about it. As if you had unconsciously summoned the devil, you felt a hand on your waist. You jumped, of course, and thought some middle-aged man would be standing behind you but it was even worse.

“Turn back around,” He spoke huskily in your ear and you shook your head. His arm wrapped around you, his hand wrapping around your throat as he pulled you back into him, “Don’t struggle. Wouldn’t want to make a scene, right?”

How long had he been watching you? How long had he been following you?

Your eyes darted around, looking for anyone who had noticed what was happening to you but you saw no one. Everyone so packed together and clearly focused on whatever was going on in their busy lives. Peter’s other arm wrapped around you, under your arm, and settled on your stomach.

You started to shake your head as his fingers trailed against the top of your skirt but his grip on your throat tightened, “What color panties are you wearing?” He whispered in your ear, “Hmmm?”

It was clearly rhetorical because, with every word you spoke, his grip tightened. You had to keep still in order to breathe. His hand slid between your skin and the waistband of your pastel skirt and he felt between your legs. A small whimper left your lips as his fingers rubbed your sex through your panties.

His nose pressed into your hair and he took in your scent as he began rubbing circles against the fabric of your underwear.

Peter had to see for himself if you were really what he wanted and he was tired of hiding his attraction. The confusion and tension in his mind had finally stopped. He was going to have you.

You had rarely even touched your private parts yourself so, the feeling rising in your core, felt completely foreign. A second later, he was dipping his fingers in the fabric of your panties. Your face completely warmed and you couldn't help how your body flinched at the sensation.

“You’re mine from now on, to do whatever I please,” You ran from the feeling, from the pleasure, for as long as you could but Peter’s fingers worked like magic. Your chest heaved up and down as your breathing became more erratic. You were nearing something and that scared you even more. Peter held you steady and kept you from going anywhere and you were forced to face whatever he had unleashed inside you.

“There you go, that’s it, Y/N,” It was a giant explosion deep inside you, and Peter moved his hand around your neck to cover your mouth as you orgasm.

You were shaking as his fingers still played with that sensitive bulb in your panties. When he finally released you, you felt more disgusted at yourself for feeling such pleasure.

Peter turned you around and you were so dizzy that you couldn’t even push him away as he slammed his lips against yours. Anyone around you would’ve saw it as annoying PDA by a couple of teenagers but, really, a predator had just sunk its teeth into its prey.

You sat with Peter at lunch from the day forward. You decided it was better than him humiliating you in front of the entire student body.

You weren’t sure what exactly you were to him. He seemed to want a personal punching bag as well as the intimacy you could provide. He’d tease you constantly, especially in front of his friends, but he’d want to make you cum right after being the jerk he was.

He’d invite himself over to your house so you could help him with a school project or rather have you do it for him. Then he would … use his tongue against your private parts and make you lay with him for hours.

One weekend, while you were walking home from a late-night study session at Jess’s house, a figure landed right in front of you. You hated how he loved to make his entrances by scaring you. Completely clad in his red and blue suit, Peter looked you up and down, “Why are you out walking so late?”

You took a cautious step back, “My apartment is three blocks away.”

“I’m aware and that doesn’t answer my question.”

“Can I at least have the weekends to myself, Peter?”

Peter cocked his head to the side and you wished very much to see whatever devilish look was. As he took a step forward, you took another backward, which caused him to laugh, “I’m offended, Y/N. I’m just a friendly neighborhood spider-man trying to help a poor, lost girl find her way home. There are sickos out this late.”

“Peter-”

Peter suddenly raised his hand and you saw a web shoot out into the distance. Before you could follow where it led, Peter’s arms were around you, and you were flying with him in the air. You squeezed him for dear life, your lungs unleashing every scream within you, as your stomach rose and fell with the swinging motion.

When you finally landed on your feet, you were standing on the fire escape just outside your bedroom. You lost your balance but Peter was there to catch you again. Peter pulled off his masks and you saw his tired face and messy hair beneath it.

He smiled at you, “Gonna puke, fish sticks?”

You tried to pull away from him, anger boiling up inside of you, “I-I hate you! I hate you, Peter!”

Tears were streaming down your cheeks and you were punching at his chest. It had no real effect on him and he simply grabbed your hands and held them in place. He pulled your hands down and pulled your forward, kissing you hard.

You seemed to calm as his soft lips moved against yours. You hated it but it did. Your hands calmed and he let them go. Peter’s brown eyes narrowed into yours when he finally pulled away. He grabbed your face then, “I’m sorry to hear that, Y/N,” He wiped a tear away from your face, “But I don’t think I can let you go just yet.”

He kissed you again and you started to move your lips against his. It was easier that way. You stayed there for a long time, your lips on his, as your tears began to dry. He wasn’t going to leave you be so you thought you might as well enjoy it. The most popular boy in school, in New York, wanted you. Shouldn’t that make you feel good?

Peter moved to open your window, “Peter … my parents.”

“I’ll be quiet,” Peter insisted as he slipped inside. You did the same and you watched as Peter slowly shut it back.

You moved over to the bed, taking off your backpack, and preparing for what Peter usually wanted to do. You looked up, surprised when you saw he was taking off the suit … all the way.

“Peter, I’ve never-”

He shushed you, “I haven’t either,” That surprised you to hear. He approached you on the bed, only wearing his boxers, and your eyes raked in his exquisite physique. A lot has changed for him in the last few years, “But I’m sure I can figure it out.”

He kneeled down by your feet and took his time removing your shoes and then your socks. He wanted to take his time admiring you and this made you feel like a piece of art, “Why me?” You asked hesitantly.

“I have this awareness of my surroundings, like something in the back of my mind,” You weren’t expecting an honest answer but Peter’s eyes were completely earnest, “When I’m around you, it goes haywire and when I don’t have it, I’m vulnerable. I hate that.”

“So you do this to me b-because you hate me?”

Peter stood up, leaning forward as he pushed you down towards the bed. You slowly moved back towards your headboard as Peter crawled on top of you, “Not anymore. I like feeling certain things … when my defenses are down.”

His face was hovering above yours now, his fingers trailing over the waistband of your underwear. He started to pull them down and you stared with wide eyes because he didn’t even look away from you.

“Oh,” was all that left your mouth as he spread your legs. Everything about him confused you but it was useless to argue with him. You reached up to touch his shoulder which surprised him, to say the least. You touched the skin there and then the hardness of his chest.

Peter tossed your underwear to the side, positioning himself between your legs. His eyes darkened as he looked at you and, suddenly, he was pinning your hands above your head. He kissed you as he used his other hand to pull down his boxers, letting his member spring free. He rubbed its tip against your sensitive bulb, trailing it up and down to tease you.

When he finally entered you, it was slow and patient despite the hungry look in his eyes. He watched as you winced and moaned in pain as he stretched you for the first time. He’d bury himself deep inside of you for the rest of his life if he could. He’d make you tighten around him as he gave you orgasm after orgasm.

“You make me feel human again, Y/N,” Peter grunted into your ear. After all, he had lived through and what he was meant to go through now, he’d use you to bring him down to earth. You were a toy, a tool, but maybe you could learn to enjoy the closeness. The intimacy.

Human.

Peter both desired and despised the feeling.

I hope you enjoyed this! Please be sure to like, reblog and let me know what you think! Check out my harryspetrequests tag for more of my requests and my master list for more dark peter fics!

#harryspetrequests #dark peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x oc #dark fic #dark Peter x reader #spiderman #spider-man: far from home #bully au #mcu #mcu fanfiction #mcu smut #marvel #dark marvel #marvel smut #marvel fanfiction #peter parker #spiderverse

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platypanthewriter · 3 years ago

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The Devil Looks After His Own Ch.4

Chapters One | Two | Three

Little Steve Harrington is so lonely he tries summoning a demon with a ritual advertised on TV–but luckily, it doesn’t work, and a buff, non-human nanny hired by his mom shows up minutes later. Years later, they’re best friends, and Steve still doesn’t know the truth. For @magniloquent-raven!

Since Steve’s mom and dad had basically stopped doing anything around the house, Steve helped Billy with things like scrubbing the bathroom, and doing laundry, and vacuuming. They listened to music very loud if Steve’s dad wasn’t working, and if he was, they played charades with each other as they worked. That meant Steve sometimes got the parmesan cheese when he wanted the Ajax cleanser, and Billy got Steve yelling and climbing up the furniture, looking for a huge cockroach rat hybrid, when all he wanted Steve to do was move so he could pick up the rug, but it was pretty funny.

“They are paying you, right,” Steve asked one day, as he and Billy laid on the floor of his room, exhausted from scrubbing the entire kitchen after Billy accidentally boiled a pan of chili over the whole stove and proceeded to drop it on the kitchen floor. Steve’s stomach growled—it’d actually smelled pretty good, for something Billy cooked, and he rolled to bury his face in Billy’s shoulder, groaning.

“...I don’t have a lot of use for money,” Billy said thoughtfully. “They’re giving me some, though, yeah.”

“Let’s order pizza,” Steve moaned, stretching. “I mean, if—can you get the money? Do you know how?”

“I have a bank account,” Billy muttered, but from the red his ears had turned, Steve suspected it hadn’t been that easy, at first.

“...do you have a card?” Steve asked, holding his fingers up in a rectangle, and Billy rolled onto his side to tickle him.

“Yes, you little jerk, I have a debit card, and I can get us pizza,” he told Steve, as he giggled and kicked the air.

“You should use it to do things you want,” Steve told him, relaxing into the hug, once he smacked Billy enough times that the tickling stopped. “Buy—things. Things you want. Or—or go somewhere.”

“Where would I wanna go without you?” Billy asked him, laughing, and Steve’s face heated.

He snaked his arms around more of Billy, and squeezed him, sighing contentedly. “...we could go together,” he mumbled. “To—to the, um, like, the water park. Or somewhere. They have slides.”

“Oooo,” Billy said, but it felt like he was laughing.

“They’re really cool,” Steve huffed, and Billy noogied his head.

“What about, like...Disneyland,” he whispered, and Steve’s heart thudded in his chest. “Or like...Hawaii? Is that a thing kids like? Go snorkeling?”

“Holy shit,” Steve muttered, because it seemed like the situation deserved a swear. “C-can you pay for that?! That’s—that’s a plane ticket, Billy—”

“Two of them,” Billy said, and Steve nodded, his heart pounding with excitement, because vacations would be completely different with Billy—Billy wouldn’t leave Steve in the hotel room all day, or expect him to just sit on a bench for hours at the mall.

“I-if you, um, if you want,” he squeaked, and Billy rolled on top of him, squishing him, and being annoying, and saying things like ‘Oh no, gross, did I roll onto a bug?’ “Get off!” Steve yelled, kicking and laughing.

“Too tired,” Billy groaned. “I’m just gonna lay here on this gross bug.”

“I’m not a bug!” Steve yelled back, cackling helplessly, until Billy finally took mercy, scooped him up, and let Steve order pizza with anything he wanted.

It turned out kinda gross, actually, because Steve had ordered everything he hadn’t tried before, but they picked off the fruit and the weird fish. The fried eggs and sunflower seeds were actually pretty good.

“I didn’t know you were such a good cook,” Billy told him, and Steve kicked his leg, snorting a laugh, as Billy flipped through channels.

He paused on a news show, the news person holding the microphone out to a being that was mostly fire and horns. “What do you think of this talk of requiring a license from both sides to summon demons?”

“It’s ridiculous,” said the guttural voice in flames, and Billy shivered, his face weirdly blank, like he got at the beginning, when Steve ordered him around. “Expecting my people to agree not to tear anyone’s face off, or steal their soul, when they’ve been summoned and enslaved for millenia? Don’t make me laugh.”

Steve slid his hand into Billy’s as the news person interrupted. “Well, it’s supposed to end that—”

“My own son has been missing for nearly a year,” said the harsh voice, and Billy trembled again, lowering his slice of pizza to the plate. “Are you suggesting I report the summoner to the authorities, instead of punishing them for my son’s captivity myself? How would a slap on the wrist help us more?”

“...fuck,” Billy whispered, rubbing his face, and Steve squeezed his hand.

“It stands to reason that if there was oversight on who could summon demons—” the news person persisted, but the fire demon slammed a flaming appendage against the table, and ey jerked back.

“I will burn them from the bones out until their skin cracks off in lumps of char,” said the demon, “—and then I will reclaim my son,” and then the TV clicked off, and Billy was sweating and shaking, tears welling up in his eyes.

Steve dropped his pizza on his plate, sat it aside, and stood up to hug Billy, petting his hair like he was the neighbor’s cat as Billy laughed and shuddered against him. “Billy,” Steve whispered. “Are you a demon?”

“You think I’m like him?” Billy gasped out, his fists tight in Steve’s shirt. “You see him and you—you’re like—that’s Billy,” he choked off, crying, and Steve petted his hair some more, biting his lips, and trying to figure it out.

Before Billy, he’d never thought of teenagers as being just another kind of kid—they’d always seemed basically like grownups—but he was wondering more and more whether teenagers were just children who could drive. Steve wasn’t sure how he felt about that idea, it sounded kind of...bad.

“Do—did you used to summon demons,” he asked, cautiously. “Is—is that why you—is that why you’re magic—is—is—do you know a demon,” he tried, wondering what could have made Billy cry.

“Doesn’t matter,” Billy mumbled, and Steve raised his eyebrows.

“It matters,” he said, but then he felt Billy start to pull away, and hugged him tighter. “But, um. You—you don’t have to...tell me. Okay?”

“...are you serious,” Billy whispered, and Steve nodded, running his fingers through Billy’s curls. Billy sighed, squeezing him back.

“If, um, if you don’t...want to talk about it,” Steve told him, “—um, you—you don’t have to...tell me.”

“...sorry,” Billy sighed. He sounded exhausted. “I just...it’s, um. It’s sort of...safer. If you don’t know.”

“Okay,” Steve told him, wondering. Billy was right, he thought—even if he did have horns, the Billy that swung him around in the air, played LEGO, and bought him weird pizza was nothing like the fire demon that had threatened the news person, which he thought he should probably tell Billy. “You’re not like that,” he said quickly. “He was scary. He wanted to be scary. He wanted to hurt somebody. He...I know you’re not like that. I didn’t—I didn’t mean you were like that.”

Billy nodded, sighing. “I don’t want to be like that.”

“Who would,” Steve wondered, making a face. “What a jerk.”

“...yeah,” Billy said, laughing softly.

“Do you...know him...somehow?” Steve couldn’t help asking. “Is—is that why you yelled at me about demons? When you first came?”

“Demons are dangerous,” Billy bit out, “—and they will kill you. Don’t you fucking dare try that summoning shit again—”

“I wasn’t going to,” Steve said, shaking his head, and trying not to smile, because Billy’d turned to glower at him, wiping his eyes. “I mean it, I won’t—”

“You better not,” Billy growled, his mouth quirking as he slid his hand along the back of the couch to tickle Steve’s side, and Steve yelped.

“I won’t! I won’t, I promise, I won’t!” he yelled, squawking and giggling, and Billy yanked him in close for a hug.

“You’ll get eaten,” Billy said quietly, frowning like he was still worried, and Steve flicked his earring.

“I won’t do it,” he said again. “I won’t. I promise.”

“...okay,” Billy sighed, resting his face against Steve’s hair.

It started to get hot and uncomfortable in Billy’s arms—he was squeezing really tight, and they were both sweaty from cleaning, and Steve was hungry— but he waited, petting Billy’s hair until he let go on his own.

“I promise not to kidnap anyone and get eaten,” Steve muttered into Billy’s curls, sighing, and Billy started snickering, and blew a raspberry on his neck with a loud farty noise. Steve’s dad stomped out of his office and yelled at them to be quiet, and they snuck the pizza into Steve’s room, and had a picnic on the floor.

A couple weeks later, Steve and Billy were leaving the LEGO store at the mall—Steve with his head stuffed with ideas and his hands on the Jungle Raider vehicle he’d finally picked up for his Ninjago set, Billy with the new bonsai tree set, because he and Steve had decided to add it to his house—when they heard screams. Steve was still looking at the cover of the box when he registered Billy shoving him behind Billy’s back, and a woman ran by yelling “Run, get out of here, there’s a man with a gun!”

Steve froze, clutching his Ninjago set, and Billy scooped him up, and frowned back atinto the LEGO store, and then down the corridor of the mall. More people were running by, and some of them were making phone calls, which was good, Steve thought dazedly. He should have thought of that, calling 911, like in a movie.

“Kiddo,” Billy said softly, “—those sets you gave me. They really mine?”

“There’s a man with a gun,” Steve said shakily. “Billy.”

“Yeah,” Billy said, sitting him back down. “And I don’t know where he is, or what’s going on, but if you—” he bit his lip, thinking.

“Billy, can you help?” Steve hissed, wide-eyed. “Don’t get hurt—”

“Pick a set to really never play with again,” Billy said, glancing back into the mall. “You have to—to throw it away, or break it, so nobody can use it again. Can you do that?”

“I can’t break it from here,” Steve whimpered, starting to panic. “I can’t—this one’s too small and dumb, isn’t it, it was only ten dollars—” he held up the Jungle Raider vehicle, his eyes blurring with tears.

“That would work,” Billy said. “You’ve never even gotten to play with it. You can’t just buy it again, though.”

“O-okay,” Steve said, nodding. He lowered it slowly towards the ground, and then jumped and dropped it as they heard a gunshot. He stomped on it a few times. There was a crunch, he flinched, and Billy yanked him into a quick hug, kissing his cheek, and then went all... pretty.

He grew, it seemed like, even from the tall horned man he’d been when he’d come to work naked that first day, and he had muscles everywhere, and Steve tried not to giggle nervously, because Billy was naked again, and Steve could see everything.

“Go hide behind the counter, or in the back, as far back and low as you can get,” Billy told him, and Steve nodded, grabbing Billy’s hands.

“Don’t get hurt, Billy,” he whispered, trying to let go, but he’d started to cry, and he couldn’t make his fingers let go of Billy’s.

Billy yanked free to squeeze him close, but they heard another scream, and Steve pushed him away and ran into the store, trying to cry quietly. He found the nice counter person hiding behind the counter, and yanked them into the back like Billy had said, then crouched with his arms over his head like in an earthquake because he didn’t know what else to do.

The counter person had a glittery they/them pin that caught the light from the front of the store as they panted, staring over his shoulder, and Steve watched it, remembering how genius he’d thought it was back when they first started working. One of the centaur twins in his class used ey/em like their art teacher did, but the other one used fae/faer, and they were identical palominos—and Steve had been so grateful when one of them started painting faer hooves and he could get it right.

He hoped he got to see them again. He hoped Billy got to see them again, and started to cry harder, thinking about Billy dead somewhere, full of bullets. The counter person yelped as Steve started to crawl away, asking him where he was going, but Steve couldn’t help it, he scrambled out of the store, and hid under a bench in the corridor, listening.

There were a bunch of gunshots, at least five, and Steve shuddered, covering his mouth so he didn’t make a noise, but then everything went quiet. He waited, tears dripping down his cheeks, until Billy stumbled back around the corner of the corridor, leaning heavily against the wall.

There was blood, smoking as it dripped over his jewelry. Steve scrambled out with a yell and ran to him, gathering him into a hug as Billy slid down the wall to curl up with his head in Steve’s lap. “I-I’ll call 911,” Steve sobbed, wiping his tears away to try and see, and Billy shushed him.

“S’fine,” he mumbled. “S’okay, mmm...m’fixin’ it. Need...need you…”

“What,” Steve asked him, petting his flamey hair, and patting his horns nervously.

“Talk to me,” Billy breathed, with a noise like he had snot or tears in his throat, and Steve realized it was probably blood, the blood soaking into his jeans from Billy’s chest.

Steve bit his lips together to keep from making a noise as his lungs jerked with sobs. “Y-you’re gonna be okay,” he whined unconvincingly, then yelped as he realized Billy was smoking a little all over, and he felt a little smoky, too soft under Steve’s fingers on his shoulder, and not nearly heavy enough leaning against him.

“Tell me about the picture, that first night,” Billy whispered. “How’d it go. Dis-distract me.” He reached out and ran his finger through his blood on the floor, drawing some of a circle, and Steve pulled Billy’s hand back.

“Don’t move,” Billy growled, pretty certain that made things worse. He drew what he could remember—the castle, and the horse—trying not to think about the sticky chill of Billy’s blood on his fingers. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, and kept drawing, as Billy asked questions like ‘Wasn’t it in a circle?’ and ‘I thought there were symbols or something.’ Steve would have stopped, but it sounded like it was helping, as Billy got heavier.

His voice sounded stronger. “...what are you drawing?” he asked, sounding like he wanted to laugh, and Steve felt a strong temptation to do something annoying, like lick his ear.

“I don’t remember the symbols!” Steve hissed, guiltily, trying not to sob. “Hearts are good,” he sniffled. “I-it’s the Eu-Eurovision logo! And I love you.”

“...yeah,” Billy whispered, staring at the picture, as Steve added some clouds, trying not to think about how much of Billy’s blood there was on the ground to draw with. “...save me with the Eurovision logo, kiddo.”

Steve sniffled hard, wiping his nose again, and used his clean hand to stroke Billy’s hair at the base of his horns.

“Tell me why you drew that,” Billy whispered, and Steve hugged him, trying not to get snot in his pretty hair. “The—the first time. That first night.”

Steve could hear sirens. “W-wanted a friend,” he whispered, his lungs juddering so he kind of gasped it.

“Wanted me?” Billy asked, whispering, and Steve nodded, hugging him tighter, and drew another circle around the one Billy had started, and wrote some stuff in there, ‘I’ and a heart and ‘Billy’, and Billy snorted a laugh, relaxing into him. He felt more solid, less like Steve’s fingers were going to press through him, and Steve dropped a kiss on his shoulder, his tears coming even faster in relief. Billy’s wound was smoking still, but he pushed himself upright—as Steve waved his hands in panic—and took a deep, slow breath, and shrank a little back into grown-up nanny Billy, in a t-shirt and jeans, still clutching at his stomach. The blood on the ground was smoking away. Billy took another slow breath, closing his eyes, and the blood on his shirt smoked away too.

Steve reached over—gently—and tugged Billy’s shirt up to see smooth unbroken skin, and wondered whether it was real. “Is—is it gone? Or are you hiding it?” he asked, around the lump in his throat, and Billy leaned in to kiss his head.

“I’m okay,” he whispered, as the sounds of shouting got closer.

“How did you get hurt,” Steve asked, rubbing his eyes again as they spilled over. “You’re magic, how—how did you get hurt, Billy, you—you promised—”

“I didn’t promise I’d never get hurt,” Billy laughed, and Steve punched his shoulder, and Billy grunted, wincing.

Steve scrambled closer, patting at him more gently. “It’s still there,” he realized, crying harder. “You’re still hurt, Billy, you’re hurt— we have to go to the hospital—”

“No, no, kiddo,” Billy laughed, gritting his teeth. “I’ll be okay. I’m just...hungry.”

“How did you get hurt,” Steve breathed again, his brain stuck on the memory of blood on the floor, and on his fingers. He clenched them, clean now, but he could still feel the stickiness.

“Well, he was human,” Billy said slowly, trying to push himself to his feet, “—and I’m not, so I was trying not to hurt him.”

“He had a gun,” Steve squeaked, stumbling to his feet to try and help Billy heave himself to his feet. “He had a gun, Billy—”

“But he’s human,” Billy said softly, glancing up with the smile he put on when he didn’t want to smile. “Like you. I can’t go around hurting humans.”

“You can if they have a gun,” Steve growled, steadying Billy as he stood, finally, staggering.

“Naaah,” Billy said, hugging his head. “You might stop and think twice about being my friend, seeing me do something like that.”

“I would not,” Steve insisted, huffing. “Not if they’re shooting at you—”

As they walked out, around the EMTs and a man in cuffs, screaming about demons, Billy flinched. Steve turned on his heel to go yell, because Billy was nice, and pretty, and he’d gotten shot, but Billy grabbed him up around the waist and kept walking, telling everyone that stopped him that they hadn’t seen anything, and they were fine.

“I hope they put him in jail forever,” Steve muttered, squirming to get down, because he was starting to get why parents got mad when they were worried. He wanted to shake Billy for not understanding he was important. Steve couldn’t stop snapping at him, either, even when he tried to be nice, stopping for a milkshake on the way home—Billy asked what kind Steve wanted, and tried to suggest vanilla when Steve paused, and then Steve went and said strawberry, just to prove him wrong, and he didn’t even like strawberry. Billy’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel as he drove, and Steve tried not to cry over his gross strawberry milkshake, and the remembered feeling of Billy’s blood dripping between his fingers and soaking into his jeans.

“Okay, I’m gonna need you to keep quiet about this, okay?” Billy told him, and Steve laughed, wetly, because it wasn’t like he could tell anyone anyway. Steve’s parents would have questions if Steve told them Billy had been naked.

“I won’t tell,” Steve said thickly, and Billy grinned at him, like everything was fine.

It was weird, being really, really mad at Billy. Steve wasn’t used to being so angry at somebody he loved, and it spilled out, everywhere, at his parents, his teacher, at his friends—and particularly at Billy, who glared in confusion as Steve stomped past when he offered a hug, or ignored Billy saving him a seat in the cafeteria, or refused to eat the awful food Billy cooked for dinner.

It was worse that he couldn’t even tell anyone—there was nobody he trusted enough, except Billy. It seemed so obvious, now, that Billy could be hurt— everyone could, Steve told himself, and it had been stupid to think Billy couldn’t be hurt just because he could do magic.

He wanted to scream because Billy would hurt himself to save Steve, or that he almost died, and acted like that was normal, and he yelled into his pillow until he cried.

“Don’t be pissed,” Billy hissed, yanking Steve around the back of the gym during recess, after Steve had picked Tommy first for his soccer team. “You know I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”

“I know,” Steve muttered, his eyes stinging, because being angry all the time made him want to cry all the time, which made him angrier.

“You are fine,” Billy whispered, sighing, like Steve was being a brat.

Steve figured he probably was being a brat, if Billy thought so, and kind of wished he could just say thank you, but it stuck in his throat, and he shoved Billy away.

“I protected you, you’re fine, I’ll always protect you,” Billy groaned, like Steve was stupid, and Steve pushed him again.

“What about you,” he yelled back, too loud, and started to cry again. The shouting of three classes at recess pretty much drowned him out, but it was still embarrassing. “Y-you keep saying I’m fine, what about you?!”

“I’m fine too,” Billy told him, rolling his eyes. “I healed, I’m okay, Stevie.”

“Don’t call me Stevie,” Steve said, and Billy blinked, probably because Steve had always kind of liked having nicknames, just like normal kids.

“...Steve,” Billy corrected, watching his face, and Steve realized he’d given Billy an order, and felt worse.

“Y-you keep saying it’s fine and it’s not fine,” Steve shouted at him, and Billy frowned harder. “It’s not fine if you get hurt,” Steve tried to yell, but his throat closed, and he kind of choked it out.

“It’s okay if I’m helping you,” Billy said, smiling like Steve was being funny, and Steve wanted to hit him.

“No,” he rasped out, and Billy cocked his head. “If,” Steve started, not sure how he was going to finish, “—i-if—if you keep saying—if you keep saying you don’t matter,” he forced out, swallowing hard, “—I—I’ll—”

“You’ll what,” Billy laughed, raising his eyebrows, and Steve set his jaw.

“I’ll believe you,” he threatened, lying, and Billy went still. “I—I’ll believe you. That you don’t matter. L-losing you doesn’t matter. M-my best friend doesn’t matter. If I—” he sniffled hard, wiping his face, “—if I don’t like you anymore, it won’t be so scary—”

“No,” Billy interrupted, wide-eyed, grabbing Steve’s arm. “No, no, no— Steve —”

“It’s fine if s-some—if something...happens to you! R-right?!” Steve insisted, crying too hard to pretend he wasn’t, and pushing Billy, who staggered back. “If you’re just gonna die I—” he cut off as his lungs seized at the idea of Billy dead, Billy in a pool of blood, still on the floor, Billy gone. “I-if you’re gonna die,” he started again, miserably, “I don’t wanna be your friend, I—I can’t—”

“Fucking hell,” Billy muttered, his hands twitching towards Steve, and then flinching back. “I’m sorry, okay, I’m sorry, please—please don’t—”

“Wh-what if you die and it’s my fault,” Steve moaned, hiccuping sobs, and trying to wipe his face, and Billy stepped in close again, grimacing uncertainly, wiping Steve’s face with his sleeves. He smelled like smoke, a little, like he did when something scary was happening, and the laundry detergent from when Steve helped him out at the laundromat, and Billy had chased him around and tickled him on one of the dryers. “What if you’re gone,” Steve wailed.

“No, no, no, c’mon, no, no—” Billy muttered, pulling him into a hug. Steve tried to pull away again, but Billy held on, warm and strong, and Steve finally just bawled into his shoulder, sobbing so loud everybody came to look, two different teachers, and all three of the classes at recess. Steve buried his face in Billy’s shoulder, and Billy hugged his whole head as Steve’s new favorite teacher squeezed both their shoulders, and whispered that she was glad they’d made up, and then ushered everyone away, even Tommy, who looked torn between triumph and worry.

“I’m s-still mad at y-you,” Steve told Billy, gulping for air. “I-I’m so mad at you—I—I’m so mad—” he wheezed out, his breath gone from crying, and Billy squeezed him tighter.

“Sssh, ssh, ssh, I’m sorry, I was wrong, I was wrong,” he whispered, and Steve relaxed, a tiny bit, wondering if Billy got it, finally.

“You c-can’t do that again,” Steve told him, feeling a sick guilt for ordering Billy around, but pushing on, because it had to be okay to not let Billy get shot.

“I don’t think there’s probably gonna be that many shooters at the mall, kiddo,” Billy whispered back, laughing, and Steve stomped on his foot.

“You have to promise,” he hissed, and Billy laughed again, but when Steve shoved away to glare at him, Billy was crying too, his eyes red and wet. “...you promise?” Steve asked, softening a little, and reaching up to wipe Billy’s tears off his round, freckled cheeks. Billy nodded, smirking a little, and Steve frowned. “You can’t just—get hurt. Not for me.”

“Because I’m so important,” Billy said, his smile widening a little as his eyes spilled over again. “And you’d be super sad.”

“Yeah,” Steve told him, narrowing his eyes, because he wasn’t sure Billy was really getting it, yet. “I’d probably cry for— forever.”

Billy made a weird noise in his throat as he laughed, leaning in and kissing Steve on his cheek, and his ear, clumsily, and squeezing him tight again until his fingers hurt against Steve’s arms and sides, but Steve didn’t care, because he was hugging back just as hard. “I—I’ll be more...careful,” Billy mumbled, sniffling. “Since I’m...important. So you don’t have to get so scared.” He took a shaky breath, burying his face in Steve’s shoulder. “...just...because of me.”

“You’re the most important person I know,” Steve told him, his breath going shaky again. “Just—just you, you have to—you have to be okay—”

“I gotta make sure I’m okay so you’re okay,” Billy whispered, nodding a little, and Steve groaned, but it was close enough, he figured, so he sighed a ‘yeah’. “Because I’m important,” Billy said, laughing a little, like he didn’t believe it, and Steve growled into his neck.

“I’m not lying,” Steve growled.

“No, no, yeah, I know,” Billy told him, giggling, and Steve pulled back to stare at him. He was laughing and crying, pink-cheeked. “I-I know. I’m—I’m important.”

#harringrove #eventually #Steve accidentally summons a demon #Billy was horrified to be summoned by an unattended child #they're BFFs now #Sorry if anything's weird formatting-wise #kitten kept walking across the keyboard trying to keep an eye on the roomba

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romantic-barnes · 5 years ago

Text

strawberry & tape | part one

| part one - the beginning or the end? |

Pairings: dark!biker!bucky x reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes has the town in his hands and a lot of blood. All you have is a cafe your mother left you after her passing. But as Bucky’s attention moves to you, do you have the strength to pay revenge for his wrongdoings? Does your push into the dark paradise end in love or blood?

Warnings: mention of non-con, possessiveness, mention of suicide, humiliation, animal cruelty. This is dark bucky! please don’t read if you are uncomfortable with any of the topics mentioned above!

A/N: Please don’t read if you are under 18! This series is inspired by This Is What Makes Us Girls by Lana Del Rey. Or just the whole album let’s be honest here. This is my first time uploading my dark fics so yeah, I love this, I loved writing this.

I’m just gonna tag some of my faves, you are under no obligation to read this! @imanuglywombat @mariessecretfantasies @sinner-as-saint @nsfwsebbie

There she stood, your best friend. A light Autumn breeze waving through the early spring trees, shivering the grass alive with it. Her shoulders shaking with the leaves, mumbling through her pink painted lips, whimpering and sobbing between words.

There wasn’t a word needed to express what happened, the petite girls’ tears flowing down her pretty face, carrying all the information with them.

She bunched up the skirt of her dress, fumbling with the seam before lifting it slowly and carefully. Her blood shot eyes watching you carefully as her lip trembles, fresh tears flowing.

Your eyes wandered down to the seam of her dress, slowly revealing the bruises on both her thighs. A hand covering your mouth, careful to not upset her, shake her, make her run. But there was little to hide, the agonising and painful pull at your heart.

She let the skirt fall, covering her thighs.

There was something you wanted to say, something reassuring, but the words could not slip past your lips. A simple ‘what happened’, a question reasonable.

“He- he touched me, and I said- I said n-no.” A string of sobs left her lips, closing her eyes. “He didn’t s-stop.”

You reached out to her, laying your hand on her shoulder, a light and careful pull. She stumbled towards you, laying her head on your shoulder. A thousand thoughts, but none delicate enough to say. You knew what happened as soon as she came walking up the street. A bittersweet romance turned poisonous. A possibility you saw coming.

The town doesn’t have a lot left for girls falling for the leather clothed men chasing them all over town. They turn their face away from them, whispering profanities. A lot of ‘told you so’, a lot of hot air from the people living in Dawn.

A lot of people think the town is possessed, cursed by witches from medieval times.

The smell of blood always wavers through the air as soon as you enter Dawn. Scientists say it’s chemicals, but none of that stays in the heads of the residents.

The old tale says that women used their period blood to seduce men, covering their desired man’s house in symbols to pull them into an everlasting love.

The town is built like a circle, a church in the middle, a poor attempt to rid Dawn of it’s evil. Before the church there was a town house, owned by the wealthiest man there was. Red scull, they called him, the origin story of the men in leather.

After him, the townhouse was torn down and a church was built, but not long after not even god was safe from Red Sculls son. The offspring who would bring the gang back to life.

They showed everyone who was in charge, blood was shed from anyone daring to refuse their power, deny them of what is theirs and so, the smell of blood never left. Always lingering in the air.

Generation after generation attracting folks who were looking for more control, but end up with blood on their hands, guilt on their faces. Only a few make it, with promises they couldn’t keep.

A town build on tales and make-believe.

You sat across the table from Lana, the girls’ hands wrapped around a mug, tears staining her pale complexion. He bottom lip trembled as she raised the mug to her lips.

“He needs to pay for this.” You said confidently.

Lana shook her head, her Bambi eyes wide with terror. “You’ll get yourself in trouble, you know what they can do, what they’re capable of. I shouldn’t have gotten involved with them.” A whimper escaped her lips.

You hung your head, defeated. There is truth to her words, but someone has to put an end to this. Another girl left on the curb, used and abused by the head of the clan. Another girls’ innocence stolen by force, without so much as a glance from the townsfolk.

An eerie silence fell, the presence of someone evil lingered around her.

Barnes.

A name no one who isn’t looking for trouble ever dared speak. Afraid it would somehow summon him, like a spell. A man as dangerous as his name, but just as beautiful as the devil created him. A curse not meant for the faint hearted.

His words are the national anthem here.

No matter if it’s a curse, spell or an enchantment, you’re not falling for it. Determined to defy the cliché of the weak woman falling for the devil’s son. A cliché in itself. A dangerous game to play, but a game, nonetheless.

You weren’t scared of a man trying to find a moment of thrill from an innocent soul.

The small cafe was empty, like every day it dawned on you day after day. Maybe that’s why your mother did what she did. A failure of a dream she had. Turn the family business into a cosy place, but the money stopped flowing slowly and steadily.

Standing at the counter with your apron, sundress adding to the sweetness of the aura your mother created. A place for the people who didn’t know of the more popular diner in the centre of town.

Your life threatened to become just like your mothers. No steady relationship, money slipping through your fingers, mundane days dripping with boredom. Your end was destined to end like your mothers, a sting of rope, swinging without life.

The pastries fresh from the oven, buttered and sprinkled with powdered sugar. A recipe your mother created. You set one down in front of you, a cup of coffee in your hand.

A break you didn’t really need, but took advantage of, nonetheless.

The bell above the door chimed, surprise overtaking you, but a look over your shoulder killed it instantly. Lana entered the cafe, still pale as ever. Her eyes shallow since that fateful day.

She sat across from you and you slid the plate over to her. Her small hands took the pastry, taking a bite. She loves your mom’s baking. “Can you pack up some of the strawberry ones for me?” A smile that didn’t reach her eyes stretched her lips.

A simple nod and you were about to stand when the bell over the door chimed once more and the look on Lana haltered you. The sound of heavy boots on the tiled floor.

The air filled with fuel and leather. You didn’t dare to look, in fact, you’ve never seen them other than when they rode their bikes through the streets, passing you.

“I think you forgot this.” One of them said, undoubtedly Barnes. A low and dangerous laugh echoed through the room, cutting through the tension.

A pair of panties hit Lana right on her chest, short breaths escaped her lips and you knew what this meant. Not much longer and the faucet would be running.

Anger bubbled inside you at the sight of her clutching the pair of pink lace panties. No matter how much danger radiated off from the man behind you, everything you knew about him was thrown out of the window.

You gripped the cup with your hand, an electricity searching its way through your veins. With the turn of your torso, not even sitting up from the chair you aimed the brown, hot liquid in his direction.

The cafe fell silent, all tension hit the floor as you met the eyes of the man stood in the middle of the room. Rage, that’s all you could read in his blue eyes. The two men standing behind him tightened their fists.

Time stood still, all eyes on you.

The only pair of eyes that you could focus on were the ocean blue ones staring right into yours. A death threat. Nothing but crime in his eyes and you right in his point of view. The shiver running down your spine left you cold. A single breath felt like a thousand daggers through your chest.

He moved, slow. Without a single second to react, his hand wrapped around your throat. “You little bitch.” He spat.

His voice ringed in your ears, but the rage bubbled back up, a stern look on your face. “How could you mock her after what you’ve done?”

You expected a lot of things. Maybe his hand tightening around your throat, or spitting on your face, but he retracted his hand.

A low chuckle from his lips and your face dropped, unconsciously softening. He studied you. Eyes moving from yours, to your cheeks, lips and raked over your body, stopping right on your cleavage.

“You’re going to pay for this, dollface.” he shoved his hands into his pockets. “You’re gonna wish you stayed in the shadows.” His smirk made you feel smaller than you wished it did.

Barnes and his entourage walked through the door, but he turned once more. “See you, y/n.”

It was difficult to decide whether the spotlight drawn to you by Barnes was worse than the fact that he already knew who you are. You relished in the fact that you never made direct contact with the Howling Commandos.

But now that comfort was stolen from you and you wondered what exactly they knew about you. It makes sense to you that they know the residents of their town.

A week passed. A week of anxiety. You tried to push away the thought of him, but each day you set foot into the cafe a flash of what happened passed before your eyes. Another memory added to the dread of this place, another one added to the one of your mother lifeless, swinging side to side.

Your fate isn’t as unusual as it may seem. No one truly gets out of Dawn, always bound to come back to take over the family business. Anyone stupid enough to move here sees the horror not long after, but it’s too late. Bound to the town and the town bound to them.

You breathed in and out, but the sound of motorcycles couldn’t find their way out of your ears. Was is a coincident that you heard the roar of their bikes more often this past week, or just your imagination.

Along with fear, a sense of responsibility and purpose raged within you. Somewhere in you. A purpose to teach him just how cruel the devil can be. What you have can be taken away from you.

Revenge is as sweet as strawberry jam.

Fun isn’t written very big in Dawn and unfortunately the only place to get wasted is the club house on the outskirts of town. A place full of the Howling Commandos, their wife’s, claimed women and men with a death wish written on their throat.

You let Lana in, leading her to the living room. A modest house, but a house, nonetheless. She sat next to you; her legs crossed. Two glasses were filled with red wine.

You handed Lana a glass, taking a big gulp of your own, eyes studying your friend with caution. It became harder to read her emotion, her face tainted by the horrors pushed upon her.

“How’s peter?” You asked between sips. A question to steer away from the million questions you had in your head instead.

“Oh, yeah he’s doing ok. He’s finally learned how to make a Bouquet.”

Peter started working at the flower shop a few weeks ago, revealing himself to be skilled in the field, a true eye for the delicate petals. A young man you wished she would’ve caught an interest in.

“But he’s been getting a little too nosy about the bikers,” her eyes watered, a sigh escaping your lungs. “he asked about him today.”

“Oh, Lana.” You pulled her side towards you, encasing her with your arms.

A knock on the door interrupted her quiet sobs, her big brown eyes staring into yours, a glimmer of fear hidden behind the glassy tears. Your feet carried you towards the door, hands shaking slightly as you turned the doorknob.

A man you recognise only by the patch on the shoulder of his leather jacket. A stern look mixed with boredom. A glance down to his hand and you saw the small brown package.

“For you.” A wicked smile spread on his grey bearded face.

You slowly reached your hand out to take the package away from him. The small bundle of brown paper rested in your hands. The man turned his back to you waling off to his motorcycle.

You stared at the package, backing away from the door after closing it. A twist in your stomach and you knew this wasn’t good, not in the slightest.

Lana walked over to you; questions written on her face.

Your senses kicked in, only now realising that the package is warm. A warmth spreading over your hands, but a cold shiver running down your spine.

You set the package down on the counter of the small kitchen. A look over to Lana and you untied the bow with caution. The brown paper loosened itself and from it oozed a stench of blood. As the layers were pulled away from the mysterious item, the brown turned red.

A gag from Lana and a shrill scream from you as the paper was pushed away. A heart revealed itself, bloody and fresh.

Lana looked to you teary eyed, a hand covering her mouth. You swallowed stepping away from the heart.

“You know what this means, right?” Lana whispered, barely audible enough to bounce off the walls. A shake from your head and Lana removed her hand from her face. “When one of- one of them sends you the heart of a deer- it uh- it’s kind of like a claim of the woman’s heart.”

If you weren’t so disgusted by the sight of the object and the stench of blood filling up the kitchen, you would have laughed at the ridiculousness. You lifted the corners of the paper, heart pounding, hoping to find the name.

Bucky Barnes.

There it stood in tar black ink. You didn’t know what you expected, but you hoped it would be any other name. But the gift is his’, a claim on your heart and your name.

[ part two ]

[ taglist open ]

#dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky #biker!bucky #biker!bucky barnes #dark!bucky x you #biker!bucky x reader #dark!bucky x y/n #dark!bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky x you #bucky x reader #strawberry & tape #clair writes

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phoebehalliwell · 4 years ago

Note

Prue gets together with Mitch (reincarnated Micah) and lives. How does their relationship evolve over the rest of the series?

okay so fr because like i've been thinking about this I've Been Thinking About This. WHY give us that connection if we're not gonna do anything with it??? WHY make it worse my literally giving us the guy THE EXACT SAME GUY and then never mention him again What is the motive?????? okay okay okay so here's what i'd do: 2.6 undercut lmao

because prue has really only had two boyfriends in the series so far: andy & jack (bane doesn't count as he was more of a tryst and also he's in jail :'( could have been fun tho! he could have sacrificed himself for somebody else and become a whitelighter he already knows the ins and outs of the underworld like. could have been something there. but as they were only together twice, once when prue was posing as a hitwoman and then again when he kidnapped her, he, tragically, does not him boyfriend status.) so here me out andy is a cop he represents protection and familial ties / ties to the past (prue's childhood best friend, already friends with the sisters, he's also a third generation cop so like there's that too). he represents prue's early stage, where she feels like she has to be the protector of the whole family, of which she is basically the matriarch. she doesn't get to have fun, she has to protect her sisters and now the whole world, and her past is having some very real effects on her life right now. that's her andy era.

jack era is at buckland's, it's her breadwinning era. we even saw in morality bites (which, i am once again bringing up, is fake) that she goes on to be superbillionaire whatever. so jack kind represents professional ambitions, amplified by the fact that the fonet also served as a blatant metaphor for their relationship (prue, the world is made up of almost perfect. it's nothing but near misses and necessary compromises. in this case, i think we got a little bit of both. that's okay, i know how you feel. i'm just asking you not to look so close. nothing bears up under that kind of scrutiny. are you talking about the monet? yeah, that too.) and that their relationship ends when she decided to leave bucklands to pursue a career in photography.

so now we enter season three, which is prue's artist era, her passionate like zeal for life era she finally seems to have a weight lifted off her shoulder for the first time in a long time like you can tell she like. trusts her sisters more than she ever has before she sees them in a new light and knows that they are strong and smart and independent and she doesn't need to protect them every waking hour. this era's for prue. so i'm pitching that micah mirrors this by being an artist, too. i wouldn't say the same medium (photography) as prue because like. prue's definitely someone who would compare herself to him just like subconsciously constantly that's the type of woman she is, but maybe like a painter. not a writer because they're all insufferable. lmao 🤙🤙. but someone who lives in a hella nice studio type loft filled with art and just like life. passion. something prue hasn't really allowed herself in like. a hot minute. and i would make micah (mitch??) a witch. haha it rhymes. scratch that i'd make him a warlock. or a darklighter i'm cashing in my half-darklighter character. it's mitch now. idk how this would fit into phole narrative foils maybe or we scrap phole but they're really coming from two different perspectives where cole is entering the joint like i am evil and here to murder and then he catches feelings whereas mitch would be like yes i have some dark past but i'm not letting it define me bonus points is prue is able to piece together the clues of his origin just by looking at his paintings. this also adds to the rift between prue and phoebe on prue's cole stance like oh your evil boyfriend is fine but mine, for some reason, is still evil? yes. oh you know what we keep the source's heir in this au let me continue.

instead of introducing mitch in p3 because like WHAT WAS THAT, we instead, parallel their first meeting. mitch's origin story is

his mom was a future whitelighter knocked up by a darklighter this was not intentional on anyone's part mom wasn't trying to become mom dad wasn't trying to become dad Nor did dad know mom was a future whitelighter. because well he's not great at being a darklighter in spite of maybe being like the. head darklighter's son he's like the fucked up son who doesn't wanna run things. he doesn't know he has a kid!! until something something an oracle or something tells him he has a son But he can't find mom because she's cloaked by her whitelighter. mom dies doing something heroic idk (maybe mom was a firefighter??) and then cloaking on mitch is lifted when he's in his late teens his dad finds him his dad is now like proper leader of the darklighter clan and is trying to bring mitch into the fold which initially he is game for because mitch has all these powers black orbing touch of death that he doesn't understand and finally a community to explain that to him! he gets a crossbow (which is lit) but um. quickly catches on to how blatantly evil the whole thing is. he's secretly teamed up with some whitelighters (not his mom tho. friends of his mom, but he's not allowed to see her :'/ ) to help get other halflings like him out and cloaked.

leo's been taken hostage by the darklighter something something something a plot a plot a plot we do some solid pleo angst we maybe have cole drop some thinly veiled advice about the underworld without coming out as a demon, something that will help the sisters later. but what's really important here is they're sneaking through the underworld maybe they've been split up and they need to find leo so either they're looking for him Or they're looking for a darklighter to interrogate. and prue hears shifting behind a rock and goes over to look and it's mitch and some kid and the kid immediately summons his crossbow but mitch knocks it away just like prue did with piper in the past and piper's like prue u see anything and she's like no nothing here and then mitch and the kid blackorb away which just leaves prue with this sinking feeling like what the fuck?? because. what the fuck??? a) that was the same guy from puritan times and b) she still feels the same she felt back then and c) it's clear he does do but d) --and this is the crucial one-- D) he's fucking evil????? so blah blah blah we save leo but now prue is left with one crucial question what the fuck is going on?

so what she's gonna do is research the town the colony whatever that melinda warren was born in she astral projects to salem or whatever and steals. maybe the mask mitch wore at the party she recognizes it from all hallows eve. and she brings that home and scrys with it. and she finds him!! and um bonus points looking at his place she sees he's an alum of the college she went to because backstory!! when prue was in college back when she was still pursuing photography before grams got sick, they had met before! once before, at a party, and it was this instant spark, this instant connection, but then something pulled them apart be it one of them was already in a relationship or their ride was leaving something but like. again! this connection has always been there. so like blah blah blah prue has broken into mitch's place she sees their college connection she sees his art and starts to pull together a life story he sees maybe some paperwork that just says like in bold letters like saving kids: good person activities something real obvious you know and that's Right Next To his crossbow. ~juxtaposition~ so like. what the fuck is this. but whatever that'll be dealt with later she has to get to work! but!! at the magazine her boss is like hey prue some guy came by here earlier asking for you you know [description of mitch], [description of mitch], [description of mitch], you know him? and prue's like ummmmmmmm. no. ?. and her boss is like ?? i don't really care. photography! but now she knows that while she's been digging up on him, he's been doing the same with her. so that night at p3 prue's like okay i've got to come clean with u guys remember micah and phoebe's like oh yeah that hottie from the past who was like . spiritually in love with you? and prue's like yeah i found him. and piper and phoebe are like 🤗🥳😃 and prue's like. and he's a darklighter. and piper and phoebe are like 😳😶👎 and prue's like yeah remember when like we were trying to save leo and you asked me if i saw something? well i did. it was him and and this kid and i think he was trying to save him and phoebe's like wait you think? and prue's like well i mean yeah phoebe like. it was like the same thing when he saved us in the 1700s. and phoebe's like well no because we're good witches and he saved us you saved a darklighter? and prue's like he's more than that phoebe and phoebe's like but how can you know (flash forward to her sparing cole in about three episodes and being like hmm 😐 those words are gonna bite me in the ass).

the point is they're hashing it out phoebe's devil on the left and piper's trying to be angel on the right But he is in the clan that kidnapped her husband so like..... but prue is explaining the good person papers she found on his desk, the fact that she went to college with him, she's like. she thinks he's only half darklighter and he's helping others like him and piper phoebe are like ....................do you just want him to be half darklighter and helping others like him but prue's not even listening but look who's coming down the stairs!! so she beelines over and phoebe's about to follow but piper holds her back bc wait let this play out they'll watch from afar and piper will freeze the room if she has to.

and something something something blah blah blah they tal and there's this tense like. what now. because like. What Now? you're evil and i'm a charmed one but this invisible string pulling me here whether i want it too or not. and i think prue kinda shifts back into her earlier seasons self where. it's family above all else. like i need you to steer clear because if i see you again i will vanquish you. and mitch knows she's bluffing. because he know that if he tried, even if he really wanted to, he couldn't harm a hair on her head. and it's clear she's like. suffering from the same ailment so to speak.

something something something maybe they have a couple quick brushes but not actual meetings And Then we get another time travel/past life episode where!! as it turns out. prue and mitch r soulmates cursed by a spurned lover to always be on opposite sides. meanwhile we just got cole demon reveal/cole's still alive reveal so prue's like hi mitch you're. evil. evil-adjacent. what do you know about belthazor/cole turner. and mitch does his due diligence and like. the stuff on belthazor is appalling. genuinely terrifying. but then there's some stuff on cole turner that's like kinda okay. this is were mitch does is big tragic backstory reveal, kids born of dark magic falling in with the wrong crowd blah blah blah and this kind of. supports our theory moving forward it's not really a theory. our endgame moving forward of healthy!cole. also prue and mitch still have not gotten together through all of this in spite of the cosmic pull and the past evidence of like. soulmatism. because they're both a bit too pragmatic they both think it's kind of a lost cause. blah blah blah pining we give prue a mini love interest here someone to keep her mind off mitch and we do make him good. kind, attentive, caring, smart, hot, but like. it's so painfully obvious she's not all in. so he calls it off. heart to heart with piper because piper's like hi you're in love. and prue's like yeah with a doomed relationship i think i'd rather not and piper's like hello you're talking to the queen of doomed relationships you wanna know the secret? and prue's like yes :( and piper's like just go for it. the time you have together is. it's better than anything else you'll ever have. there's gonna be heartbreak, but hell there's always gonna be heartbreak in the halliwell family. wouldn't you rather spend your time with someone you love?

something something something leo/mitch/cole buddy episode b plot. leo/mitch/cole/DARRYL buddy episode b plot. :D. prue and micah get their big first kiss in a very tv show build up way my heart is saying new years and all the fireworks go off around them.

we're bringing in paige because i love her she's first introduced by some seer oracle whatever as your other sister and the girls are like respectfully, bullshit. but micah's like hey......... she's half whitelighter. because he can sense those kind of things, being a darklighter. and piper and leo are like patty's affair....................... and all the pieces are falling together and in this one. paige either gets a witch love interest a cupid love interest or we keep henry because fwiw i do really like mortal love interests. if we do do the witch love interest it won't be richard i love him to piece i do but he sucks <3. source!cole time.

oh we introduce paige thru mitch trying to help one of his kids and that lands him at social services.

source!cole. idk what happens here but like. using our nifty-difty tool box the squad has been assembling over the years helping all of these wayward souls born from evil, things mostly work out fine. source's heir is born, a girl, but since prue isn't dead her name is either colette or victoria. depends if cole died or not.

prue moved out at some point and lives in a hella nice studio apartment with mitch they r both artists (who the fuck is paying for that?) phoebe moves back in the manor post-source fiasco paige moves in the manor but spends a lot of time with her sister prue and soon to be brother in law (??) mitch. (paige is like fr dude when are you gonna pop the question and mitch is like woahhhh pump the break because paige is new here and when she saw them she's like oh. married couple. but then they're not married. engaged? nope. no just loosely dating? okay. lame. bad idea. but as it turns out one of them always dies so they're just trying to avoid that for as long as possible) but paige spends a lot of time at pritch's place because not only is it The Art Zone it's also the rehabilitating kids zone, of which paige is a grand help. prue jokes about how much paige reminds her of phoebe as a kid, and since we're already muddying the timeline, we're having paige enter and solid advice columnist, married phoebe and paige is like haha what the fuck??

source's heir born twice blessed born magic school located under the charmed & co squad becomes integrated with children born of all magic and like our season 8 wrap up saccharine finale is like how magic has reached a new era of peace n understanding. <3

#its stream of consciousness plot pitch time again!! idk if i love it if i'm sold on it #i might come back with an entirely separate mitch pitch #because there's really nothing there the world is my oyster at this point #but i think this could be a fun one #charmed #prue x micah #💌#margaretsminiessays

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p-artsypants · 4 years ago

Text

Integrity- Chapter 8

Ao3 | FF.net

Monday morning rolled around with a cool, all encasing fog. The gray mist that settled in between buildings, blotting out sunlight, and casting a refreshing coolness on everything blanketed underneath it.

It was glum.

Ladybug had escorted Gabriel to the police last night, as they had planned. Though he was drunk, Gabriel was well behaved. This allowed Ladybug to convince the Police to stay quiet about his arrest. Of course, it was inevitable that the media would catch wind of it, and it would be all over the news.

But she just wanted to have a few days to prepare to announce it herself, and to give Adrien some time with his mother.

He hadn’t come home last night, not that she expected him too. He may be gone for the rest of the week. Maybe longer. She couldn’t blame him for staying away.

She just missed him already.

“Hey Marinette,” Alya greeted warmly. “Where’s Sunshine? He’s gotta get rid of this fog!”

“Yeah dude, where’s my dawg?” Said Nino.

Marinette smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. How much truth could she spare? This was Rena Rouge and Carapace after all. Surely they were trustworthy. Would Adrien mind?

“Um…he’s with his mother.”

Nino and Alya just stared at her, dawning horror creeping on their faces.

“He’s dead?”

“No!” Marinette scrambled to explain. “No, no…We found his mother yesterday. Well, he found her a few days ago, but we couldn’t do anything about it until last night.”

Alya blinked a few times. “Okay girl, you lost me. You often lose me, but this is like—a whole other dimension. Can ya back up a touch?”

“I’ll tell you guys everything after school, but you have to promise me not to tell anyone.” She leaned closer. “This is just as secret, or even more so, as your secret identities.”

Alya rapidly blinked again. “Wh-what?! What are you—how do you—What!?”

“That’s all I’m saying for now.”

“You can’t just leave us there!”

“That’s all that’s safe to say here. Just...just trust me. Okay?”

Alya took a long breath. They’d been through this before. Her trust was constantly being tested by Marinette. The absences, the tardiness, the forgetful ‘oh I have to go water my hamster’ ness. “Girl...I did trust you. But...are you going to finally explain what’s going on?”

“Yes. I’ll tell you everything. If you’ll just be patient with me.”

Alya exhaled, her shoulders relaxing. “Okay. I think that’s worth it.”

They travelled together upstairs and into the classroom, where several other students milled about quietly. It seemed they hadn’t recovered from the turmoil from last week.

Faces turned to her, weak smiles in place. Sincere enough, but lacking luster. She didn’t really blame them. She felt like that too.

After some time, Miss Bustier arrived, and settled everyone in their seats.

And then there was a knock at the door.

“Come in.”

Miss Bustier invited in the devil, and the mother of the devil.

Lila. Lila was here.

“Hello, Madam Rossi, are you vouching for Lila’s tardiness?”

“On the contrary,” the woman said coldly. “Lila won’t be attending your class anymore, or this school, for that matter. But before we leave, I wanted to make sure she apologized to those she wronged.”

My my, what an interesting turn of fate. Lila stood in front, arms crossed, and full of spite.

“Where’s Mr. Agreste?” Madam Rossi asked.

“He’s not here,” Marinette supplied. “He’s visiting family.”

“Ha!” Said Lila. “That proves it! If he wasn’t guilty, he’d be here!”

“Hush, Lila. I’ve heard enough from you.” Her mother spat. “You, what’s your name?” He looked at Marinette.

“Uh, Marinette Dupain-Cheng?”

“Marinette—first of all, I want to apologize to you and your mother. She called me with concerns and I blew her off. In fact, I didn’t know there were any problems until I received a court summons at my workplace. Not only was my daughter lying to me about her after school activities, but she lied about the school being closed to take an extended vacation!”

There were scoffs of disgust from around the room.

“Mama...” Lila whined.

“I said be quiet, child. Your lying has gotten too far out of control and I’ve had enough of it. It’s time your friends knew the truth. And you’re going to tell them. Now.”

Lila swallowed. “Um...I didn’t actually go with my mother abroad for several months. I was at home. I told her the principal was akumatized and the school was closed.”

“Now, about Marinette?”

Lila groaned. “Marinette was right. I didn’t bully her at all. I made all that stuff up...”

“And regarding Adrien Agreste?”

“Adrien...never touched me. I lied. I was mad because I was fired from Gabriel for harassing Adrien.”

“Anything else you want to get off your chest?”

“No.”

“Well, that’s a shame.” Madam Rossi huffed. “What do you have to say to Marinette?”

“...I’m sorry.”

“For?”

“For lying.”

“Not good enough, Lila. Try again.”

Lila hissed, like apologizing was actually, physically painful. “I’m sorry for tattling on you to your mom. And I’m sorry for trying to get you expelled.”

Marinette pushed her luck. “...and for turning my friends against me?”

“AND for turning your friends against you.”

Eh. Good enough.

“Now, Marinette,” said Madam Rossi. “Lila must apologize to Adrien, but she’s being sent back to Italy right away. Will you record it and make sure he sees it?”

“Of course, ma’am.” Marinette took out her phone and turned on the camera. “Ready when you are.”

Madam Rossi nudged her daughter in the ribs.

“Adrien...I’m sorry I lied about you touching me. I’m sorry I lied to get into modeling with you. And I’m sorry I kissed your cheek without permission...and I'm sorry I spied on you.” With a little shrug, that’s where she ended it.

Marinette stopped recording and leveled a glare at Lila. “You’re not really sorry, are you? You wouldn’t think anything was wrong if your mom wasn’t here making you apologize.”

Lila didn’t answer, but her dead-eyed glare spoke volumes.

“You’re a psychopath.”

“Oh you think you’re so smug! Just because my lies caught up to me first! But you’re just as much as a liar as I am, aren’t you, little miss goody goody?”

Maybe she was being petty. Maybe it was adrenaline. Or maybe she really didn’t like being called a liar.

Either way, she held back just long enough to look in her purse.

Tikki gave her a firm nod.

Time to be selfish.

“Tikki, Spots on.”

In a whirl of pink, Ladybug sat in Marinette’s seat and the room went dead silent.

Except for Alya, who was making some choked wheezing sounds.

“Happy now, Lila?” Ladybug said calmly. “Yes, I lied, and flaked, and ditched my friends. I hated every minute of it, but I knew fighting akumas came first, and everything else came second. I couldn’t tell a single soul until Hawkmoth was defeated. Not even my partner.” She leveled her gaze on Lila. “But you? You just lie because you can. You have no plans, you just lie and then lie again when someone calls you out on them. You don’t care. You never cared. All you care about is yourself. That’s the reason you got caught. I chose to reveal my secret because it’s safe now.”

“Shut up!” Lila barked. Then she actually threw a punch at the hero of Paris.

Naturally, Ladybug dodged it like she had been moving in slow motion.

“You’re the worst! This whole time I thought there were two stuck up, nosy, holier-than-thou bitches in Paris. But now I see it’s only one. You don’t deserve your fame or your powers! I could have had everything! Popularity! Friends! Adrien! Fame! Even powers like Hawkmoth promised me! But you had to ruin it for me! You always ruin everything! I hate you! I hate you!!”

“Alright, we’re done.” Said Madam Rossi. She wrapped her arms around Lila, as she continued to wriggle and scream. “I see now that Italy isn’t going to be a good idea either. We’ll find a nice, quiet...resort for you for a little while.”

But Lila just continued her screaming and kicking. Her mother had to forcibly pull her from the room.

The door shut with a slam, Lila’s tantrum muffled down the hall.

And then, Ladybug stood there, keenly aware of the actions she had just made in front of all her classmates. Even Miss Bustier was slack jawed.

“I expect all of you can keep a secret of this magnitude. It would be best if you never even saw me transform.”

Still silence. But Marinette dropped her transformation and sat down.

Alya was the only one able to find a voice. “Why now? What changed?”

“It’s safe now.” Marinette explained. “Relatively speaking. I’m certain that there’s people out there who still want to hurt me. But if we all keep this to ourselves, I see no harm.”

“What about Lila?” Asked Alya.

“Well, she does have a track record for faultless honesty. Who wouldn’t believe her?” Marinette said sarcastically.

“Safe?” Nino asked, finding his voice. “Safe how?”

It was the sweetest truth in the world. “Chat Noir and I defeated Hawkmoth.”

The sentence was like electricity, jolting the room with excitement, cheers, and hugs. Students scrambled to hug her in gratitude.

“How?! When?!” Barked Alya. “There was no akuma! How did this happen!?”

Miss Bustier sat at the edge of her desk, resigned that there would be no learning today, but she really didn’t mind.

“Espionage.” Marinette said, matter-of-factly. “And to be honest, it was mostly Chat. We just officially arrested him last night.”

“Who was he? How did it happen?! I need details!” Alya nearly screamed and grabbed her by the collar and shook.

“Alya, calm down.” Marinette laughed. “I’d love to tell you all the details, but…I haven’t told anyone else yet. I have to address the public and write a speech…but I don’t even know where to start…”

Miss Bustier clapped. “Marinette! I have an idea!”

She looked to her teacher, skeptical. “Yes?”

“A writing assignment for the class. You give us the details, everyone will take notes, and we’ll help you write the speech! It would be an excellent exercise for writing from an interview.”

Marinette paused, crossing her arms and looking forward towards Adrien’s seat.

Again, the news about Gabriel was going to be public at some point. If she could get it out quickly before the other media beat her to it, she might be able to manipulate the story in her favor. As angry as she was with Gabriel, his motive was fine, and he showed…remorse? Maybe he could be redeemed and maybe Adrien could have his family back one day.

“As long as everyone promises to not talk about it to anyone, I don’t mind sharing the details.”

There was another cheer around the class as everyone gathered their phones and notebooks to take notes.

Miss Bustier clarified for everyone, “If you’re recording Marinette, the video promptly gets deleted after the assignment is over. It does not get posted on any social media, or get sent to anyone. This is for Marinette’s safety, do you all understand?”

“Yes, Miss Bustier!” Called the class, unanimously. After the dreadful behavior with Lila, no one was eager to get on Marinette’s bad side again.

Marinette stood at the front of the room, recounting what had happened, with the smallest twist of having Chat Noir as a separate character. If someone did blab, Adrien’s identity would be safe.

“Adrien’s the hero of our story.” She began. “Gabriel Agreste was arrested last night at 10:30, coming peacefully and quietly. On Thursday night, he confided in his son, that he was in fact, Hawkmoth, and that his assistant was Mayura. He disclosed his purpose was to save the life of his wife Emilie, who had fallen mysteriously ill. He was under the assumption that the only cure was using Chat’s and my Miraculous. It is unknown where he got this idea from. Adrien was skeptical enough to flag down Chat Noir as he was doing a late night patrol. He explained the situation to my partner. From there, they waited until Monsieur Agreste went to sleep, before stealing the Miraculous off of him. Chat then delivered the Butterfly and Peacock Miraculous to me, and further explained the situation. After consulting my resources, we visited M. Agreste and told him it was likely we could still save his wife without the need for our Miraculous. He then willingly gave himself up and apologized. He has been taken into police custody.”

“Excuse me, Ladybug,” Alya called out, just like in a real press conference. “What happened to Mayura? Is she in police custody as well?”

“I don’t know about that. The police are aware of her involvement, but she was fired by Gabriel earlier this week. She wasn’t with him when he was arrested.”

“Are you going to go after her?”

“No. She no longer has a Miraculous. This is not a job for us anymore.”

Someone else raised their hand, Nathaniel. “How much do you want us to elaborate on Adrien’s involvement?”

“I only have Adrien’s best interest at heart. While I know he’d rather not be mentioned at all, I think it’s extremely important for the media to know that he was not complicit in his father’s actions.”

“Where is Adrien now?” Asked Chloe, more out of concern than for the assignment.

“He is with his mother while she gets treated. I won’t disclose that information to the public.” Then she added as a side note, “but if you want to know, ask me later, Chloe.”

Chloe just took a relieved sigh and nodded to her. It seemed all the previous animosity between her and Ladybug, or even Marinette, had faded with all this new information.

“Where are the Butterfly and Peacock Miraculous now?” Asked Kim.

“Someplace safe.” Marinette smiled. “There’s no fear of someone else getting a hold of them.”

“Are Ladybug and Chat Noir retiring now?” Asked Rose, full of emotion.

“Ladybug will continue her patrols, and try to help around the city. I haven’t talked with Chat about what he wants to do.”

Alya raised her hand again, her eyes shining with excitement. “Any chance of auxiliary heroes getting to join you every once in a while?”

Marinette shrugged. “Perhaps.” There was no reason for them to, but with Gabriel behind bars, there was no reason for them not to. “Any other questions?”

The class was frantically scribbling down notes, but there were no more raised hands.

“I have plenty of off the record questions!” Alya called.

“I’ll answer those later,” Marinette asked.

“Alright,” began Miss Bustier. “These speeches will be due…Wednesday? Does that work for you, Marinette?”

“That should be perfect.”

“Wonderful. Then I won’t be giving anymore literature homework until then, because I want everyone to focus on this. Please write at least one page, double spaced. But more is fine. Ladybug has the right to edit whichever one she picks.” She glanced at the clock. “Goodness, that was almost the whole hour! I’ll give you the rest of the hour to talk among yourselves.”

—

While stories don’t typically have a happy ending in real life, Marinette was happy to note that things were working out nicely. The fog remained the rest of the week as Adrien stayed away from Paris. Juleka, of all people, ended up writing the most articulate, emotional, and accurate speech out of the bunch, and Ladybug presented it at a press conference with the Mayor.

Stories of all sorts of accuracies came out of it from the media, but conspiracies were loudly silenced, as Ladybug’s speech in full was available to everyone. Gabriel had yet to make any statements of his own, but his lack of urgency only lended itself to the official story.

It was over.

Gabriel’s trial would come in time, and Ladybug and Chat Noir would both be expected to testify, but the fight against Hawkmoth was over.

Despite revealing herself to her family and classmates, Marinette felt light. Unburdened, and guiltless. The raised grades were a bonus.

There was just one thing missing.

Adrien.

It had been a week since he stepped into that portal with his mother. He hadn’t taken his phone with him, but she never received a message from his baton. Not even a confirmation that he made it safely.

After several days of solid dependence and partnership, she missed him terribly.

Then finally, late one night, she awoke to a flash of light on her balcony. She was instantly awake, throwing open the door to investigate.

Belle Noir stood there, alone, and looking exhausted.

“Adrien?” She asked softly.

“Miss me, My Lady?”

“Unbelievably.”

Adrien dismissed his transformation and dragged himself over to her room.

“So what happened? How is she?”

“Still asleep.” He landed on her bed, and took off his shoes. “Not likely to wake up for a while still…but she looks better. They told me to go home, since being around her and watching was making me ill.”

“Are you alright?”

“Just need a shower and a good night’s rest. Can I sleep next to you? I really missed you.”

“I wouldn’t want you anywhere else.”

After showering and shaving, a nice clean Adrien flopped onto Marinette’s bed. He inhaled deeply. “Hmm, I missed this smell.”

“Weirdo.”

“Smells like bread and cinnamon and pretty girl.”

“Do you want to hear about all the trouble I got into while you were gone?”

“All of it…if I can stay awake.”

So Marinette told it all, starting on Monday morning with Lila, and leading all the way up to the speech, which she showed him on her phone.

“You just transformed? In front of everyone?”

She shrugged. “Not my brightest move, but Lila was accusing me of lying too…I just wanted to get it out in the air. I don’t regret it.”

“Did you tell anyone who I am?”

“Nope. I thought about telling Alya and Nino, but your identity is yours to tell. Or to keep a secret. It’s totally up to you.”

Adrien had his eyes half closed, the comfort of the bed and the warmth from his girlfriend relaxing him to sleep. “I have some ideas.”

“Care to share?”

“No. Too tired.”

“Okay kitty.” She giggled. Then she shuffled down to lay beside him, before he latched on and nuzzled her. “Hmmmmm My Lady.”

“Goodnight Kitty Cat.”

“Night. I love…”

“I love too.”

—

In the morning, Marinette woke up to an empty bed. For a moment, she worried that Adrien coming back last night had been a dream. But his suitcase was open and rifled through.

Confused, she got up and got dressed, and then came down for breakfast.

“Morning Miss Hero.” Sabine said fondly.

“Morning mama…did you see Adrien this morning?”

“I didn’t, but your father did. Said he got up really early to take care of some stuff.

“‘Stuff’ huh? Sounds vague.”

“I don’t know. But he said he’ll meet you at school. So instead of interrogating me, you can go to class and find out for yourself.”

“Oh I suppose!” Marinette said, dramatically. Then she took a seat at the table and started pouring herself some breakfast.

“They’re talking about the Hawkmoth story again.” Sabine gestured to the muted TV. “Some people are calling for a reinstatement of the guillotine.”

Marinette scoffed. “Yeah, maybe if there had been any lasting damage, maybe. But as it stands, no one died, no collateral damage…maybe some trauma I guess.”

“You’re being awfully defensive of the man you’ve been fighting the last year.”

Marinette shrugged. “I just…want Adrien to have his family back. I know Gabriel has to face punishment, and jail might even soften him up to be a better dad when he gets out. I just want him to be able to have his dad in his life…even if it’s just a little bit.”

“Even after all this, he doesn’t hate his father?”

“I couldn’t say.”

—

The fog had lifted. The morning sunlight was warm and bright, the birds chirped, the flowers bloomed. Adrien was back in Paris, somewhere, and all was right with the word.

Marinette almost skipped to school.

Half of her class awaited her by the steps, and when she came into view, they all started calling for her. “Marinette! Marinette!”

“Carry your bag to class?”

“Carry you to class?”

“Guys guys,” she laughed. “I’m flattered, but you don’t need to keep pampering me. It was fun last week, but we’re cool now, okay?”

“We just wanted to let you know that we were sorry and we appreciate you!” Said Rose, enthusiastically.

“I understand. And I forgive you. The cards, and the back rubs, and the foot rubs, and the manicures…I got it. But I don’t want our friendship to revolve around you guys just worshipping me. And I especially don’t want to be treated like this because of who I am. Let’s just…all go for ice cream this weekend?”

“Fine, but I’m paying for your ice cream!”

“No! I want to pay!”

Marinette chuckled to herself and led the throng of followers into the school. Maybe…one more week of being spoiled wouldn’t hurt. Right?

“Have you heard anything from Adrien?” Nino asked, as he asked everyday.

“Actually, I did! I’m fairly certain he’ll be in class today too!”

Nino pumped his fist.

“What should we do to make him feel welcome?” Asked Rose. “We were pretty crappy to him last time we saw him. After all he’s been through…”

Marinette looked over the remorseful faces staring at her. They wanted to make things right.

“I think apologies, hugs, and just being there for him will be enough. I think he’d appreciate affection, but not being treated like he’s fragile. He’s incredibly strong, you know.”

They all nodded, but she could hear them conspiring with each other about cards and a cake. She wasn’t going to fight them on this. Adrien needed his friends, and sincere ones at that.

Walking into the classroom, Marinette’s eye immediately fell on the very expensive handbag on her desk. Chloe sat at her own desk, admiring her nails.

“Is that—?”

“A Hermes Birkin Togo Handbag with gold Hardware? Why yes, it is.”

“Why is it on my desk?”

Chloe shrugged. “what, that old thing? I got it, but it doesn’t match my wardrobe, so I figured you would appreciate it.”

“But…this is new this season! It hasn’t even been released yet!”

“Well, it’s old to me. Give it to your mom if you don’t want it. It’s no skin off my nose!”

Marinette gave her a genuine smile. “Thank you Chloe, this means a lot to me. Especially after all that happened.”

“Are you talking about my silly little tantrum? Puh-lease. Even I’m not immune to the allure of pretty jewelry. But it won’t happen again, I’m over combs.”

“Well, I’m crazy about this bag, so thank you.”

Chloe’s mouth twitched before she said, “you’re welcome.”

Alya and Marinette spent the rest of the morning gushing over the bag, because regardless of who it came from, it was a nice bag. Miss Bustier came in and started the lesson.

It was then that Marinette realized Adrien still hadn’t shown up.

“I thought you said he was coming today?” Whispered Nino.

“I thought he was. He doesn’t have his phone on him anymore either.”

A few minutes passed before a black blur whizzed by the window. It back tracked and Chat Noir landed on the ledge, knocking on the window.

“Chat Noir?” Miss Bustier asked as Kim opened the window.

“So sorry I’m late! I was packing up some of my mother’s belongings to take to her later.” He stalked across the room, with Adrien’s bag draped over his shoulder. Then he stopped at Marinette’s desk, before stooping to kiss her on the lips. “Good morning, My Lady. Sorry I left without saying anything. I woke up early and I didn’t want to bother you.”

“It’s okay.”

“Claws in.”

And then it all clicked. The class went ballistic. There was screaming, hugs, well-intended punches, and overall excitement.

Miss Bustier rolled her eyes fondly. “Guess I’ll have to remove your absences too, to be fair.”

“Oh, sorry. When Marinette told me she revealed her identity to the class, I knew I had to too, and even more dramatically.”

“You’re such a goober.” Marinette teased fondly.

“But I’m your goober!”

#miraculous ladybug #ladybug #ladynoir #chat noir #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #adrienette #fanfiction #identity reveal #integrity

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shianhygge-imagines · 5 years ago

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Silver Rose [Vergil/Reader] {Devil May Cry} The Demon Half

AN: This chapter is shorter than the previous one, but it’s mostly the prologue of the game, and Reader’s encounter with Urizen during the beginning of the game.

I’ve just been writing nonstop the past 48 hours. Panic? What’s panic? Pshhhhh |Masterlist Link| |First Chapter| |Prev. Ch.| --- |Next Ch.|

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16th May 08:06pm - Red Grave City

“Dante, V, once I get my hands on you, you’re both dead!” You screamed to nobody in particular as the Totsuka sliced through another demon with a simple flick of your wrist. All around you, the bodies of slain demons dissolved, some turning to ash, others into sludge. They were fairly low ranking demons, weak and hardly strong enough to wind you after so many years hunting demons alongside Dante. And speaking of… you could hear the sounds of combat ahead.

No doubt Dante, V, and Trish taking on Urizen… Vergil…

You didn’t want to believe what V had told you two weeks ago. You didn’t want to believe that the monster that decided to invade the human world with the Qliphoth Demon Tree was what remained of your husband. But as you pressed forward, sliding down a few fleshy ledges and striking down any demon in your way, you found yourself begrudgingly accepting that such a stupid situation would be just like your husband. “Fucking summoning another stupidly tall fortress into the mortal world for power.” You muttered angrily, firing off a few shots from the Silver Rose into some flying insect demons. “First Temen Ni Gru, and now the damned Qliphoth Tree, you’re just a walking plot cliche!”

There were a few reasons that you were currently livid and brutally massacring your way through the innards of the demon tree. The first, because your husband had summoned a giant blood sucking demon tree in order to gain power. Second, because he had done so in Red Grave City, your childhood home with the Sparda twins. The third, because your fucking house was just on the opposite end of the damned city, and you were going to make sure that nothing happens to your house. Fourth, because you wanted answers. V was only willing to answer so many of your questions, and Dante was just as clueless as you. So, you had to go confront Vergil yourself. And fifth, because Dante left you behind. He’d left with Trish, V, and Lady despite saying that he would take you along. To make matters worse, he’d taken the helicopter, forcing you to speed towards your home city on your motorbike. The pizza that your brother-in-law had sent you out to get because he ‘wanted a snack on the go’ has long since been consumed by your annoyed self on the way to Red Grave City.

When you’d called to yell at him, Dante simply said that it wasn’t your fight. And while you weren’t mad that he’d decided to leave you behind to be safe, you were livid that he would even suggest that Vergil wasn’t your problem. Even though you loved Vergil, you would still fight him in order to save the mortal world.

“Left me behind to go with V… Had to speed just to get here in time.” You mutter, closing in on the battle.

It is when you get closer to the battle that you notice it’s only one person fighting… and suddenly, your thoughts aren’t to fight Urizen… it’s to do everything you can to protect your son. “Nero!” You scream, pulling the Silver Rose out to shoot at the offending tentacle.

The limb retreats from your shot, allowing Nero to deal some damage to a spinning crystal of sorts before being forced to back away. Upon closer look, you realize with horror that it is the Yamato that was trapped inside the material. All attention is drawn to you as you step into the ‘throne room’ of sorts, swapping the Silver Rose for the Totsuka.

“You…” The deep demonic voice that calls out to you is vaguely familiar underneath the rumble as the gigantic being directs dull glowing blue eyes at you. Perhaps, V was correct, and this was once Vergil, but with its body mutated and entwined with the demon tree, you conclude that perhaps it was time to let your husband go. Heh. Fat chance of that happening, and you know it.

A heavy sigh leaves your lips as you Totsuka from its sheath, the blade crying for its counterpart, “Surprise, it’s me.” You cheer dryly, keeping your eyes on the demon. “Did ya think I wouldn’t come, darling? That I wouldn’t come stop you from attempting to destroy the world a second time?” The demon lord does not answer you, and a humorless laugh escapes your lips, “Not the happy reunion that I imagined, but okay.”

Your eyes don’t leave Urizen, but your next words are directed at Nero, “Nero, darling, you’re supposed to be in the hospital.”

Your son grunts and revs the Red Queen, looking unbalanced from his missing limb. Nero tries to reassure you with a cocky grin, “I couldn’t let the asshole that stole my arm have free roam.”

“How the hell did you even learn about this gig, anyways?” You demanded, stepping further into the arena, sword at the ready and positioned beside your son.

“V told me.” Nero shrugged and rotated his shoulder before sprinting forward to deal another blow towards the crystalized Yamato.

Following up with a strike of your own, you cursed under your breath, “Of fucking course, V told you.” Jumping away from the crystal when several beams of light impaled the ground before you, you were forced to dodge roll to the side in order to avoid a giant fireball getting thrown at you. “When I get my hands on that lanky bastard…”

In the background, you could hear a rather loud voice speak out, no doubt Griffon, “Heh! I don’t think the Lady Sparda’s happy with you, Shakespeare!”

You were only able to catch a glimpse of a large bird and a head of familiar dark hair before a tentacle appeared from the throne and slapped you into the side of the arena. “Argh!” You grunted from the impact, sliding down the wall to stand on your feet again. “Gah! Damn it, darling! Married for nearly twenty three years and I didn’t know you had kinks! You’d think you’re smart enough not to try this shit in front of my son!” The tentacle reeled back in order to side swipe you, but you jumped up just in time to avoid the horizontal sweep of the fleshy plant limb. As you dodged, you could hear the sound of someone choking and coughing from behind you. “I mean, okay, darling. We can play this game,” You folded with a solemn nod and a sly grin, before dashing forward to attack the unprotected crystal, “So long as I get to do some pegging!”

The strike met its target just as Nero groaned in embarrassment, “Mom! What the hell! Cut it out!” You were about to tease Nero with a grin until a tentacle appeared to slap your son to the side, sending him crashing into the fleshy wall. Distracted by the fact that your son had gotten bitch slapped by a tentacle, you didn’t notice when a beam of thin light shot up from under your abdomen, easily piercing through your body and sending you flying backwards.

No cry of pain left your lips as you slammed into the back wall and slide to the floor, instead, as your vision started to fade to black, watching as Dante attempted to take Urizen down with his Devil Trigger, you laughed, “Urgh… you haven’t changed at all. Still stabbing me in the abdomen twenty years later…” Before your vision completely fade, Shadow approached your body and shifted, but to what form, you weren’t sure, only able to discern slicked back hair and worried eyes before falling unconscious.

The next you came to, your body had naturally healed the hole in your abdomen, and you found yourself lying in your bed within Red Grave City. Sitting in a chair by your bedside, was V, reading the Anthology of William Blake. The moment you shifted, the young man closed the tome and set it aside, his eyes raising to look at you, “I am glad that you recovered, Y/N.”

“V…” You wheezed, throat sore and voice hoarse, “What happened? How long was I out? Where’s Nero and Dante?” The questions spewed from your mouth faster than you could breathe.

Your and Dante’s client pressed his lips in a thin line before answering you, “Dante stayed behind to buy us time to escape. None of us were strong enough to face Urizen. Nero left for Fortuna to get stronger, and I haven’t heard from Dante since we left the Qliphoth Tree three days prior. You’ve been unconscious since.”

Huffing, you peered out the room window to observe the massive tree in the distance, “Did Shadow bring us here?” You wondered, remembering that it was the remnant of Vergil that had probably carried you out of the tree.

“Yes.” V answered, turning to also stare out the window. “I wasn’t aware that you owned property in Red Grave City.”

“The house belongs to my husband and I.” You clarified, but didn’t say more. “So, what’s the plan, V? Get stronger and then take Urizen on again?”

The younger man nodded, “That is the plan.”

An impatient huff left your lips, “That’s a shitty plan.”

The grim expression on V’s face brought you to silence, “It’s the only plan we have.”

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

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed my work, please consider buying me a Ko-fi!

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ladyreapermc · 5 years ago

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Fic: Sympathy for the Devil (John Wick x Reader) 1/4

Summary: Your best friend is getting married and you’re very excited until you find out that your ex is coming to the wedding. After a night of too much drinking and without a date for the big day, you summon a demon to make a deal.

Author’s notes: So this one was loosely inspired by this prompt and it was supposed to be an one-shot but it started to grow, became a small series and it might turn into an universe? Crazy? I know! But I’m in love with the idea of demon!John and how that would change the entire John Wick universe. But that’s a story for another day. For now, enjoy this first chapter. Feedback and suggestions are always welcomed!

Wordcount: 2874

Warnings: mentions of alcohol and inebriation; brief mention of blood

It was routine on Monday for your precinct to have squad meetings every morning. It was mostly a moment to update the team on open cases and for your Captain to distribute new assignments. It usually took a good part of the morning, so you didn’t have a chance to check your phone, but when you finally did, there were five missing calls from your best friend Claire, along with several messages asking you (in all caps) to call her immediately.

The sight of it set your senses on high alert as you looked for a quiet place to call her back. Claire was getting married in a week. If she was so desperate to talk to you there could only mean some kind of emergency.

“You haven’t RSVP for my wedding yet, right?” it was the first words out of Claire’s mouth as soon as the call connected.

“Are you serious? That’s why you were calling? I’m your maid of honor. Of course, I’m coming!” You rolled your eyes even if she couldn’t see you. “I’ll do it right now if it’s that important.”

“No! wait!” Claire shouted and you pull your phone away from your ear at the shrill tone of her voice. “You have to bring a date. Ryan’s coming.”

“What?” Your heart sped up and your breath caught in your throat. “Ryan, like my ex, Ryan? What the hell Claire!”

“It wasn’t me!” She hurried to say. “Apparently Dave ran into him and invited him since we have all these empty seats we already paid for. I’m so sorry.”

You dropped on the nearest chair, rubbing your temple. This could not be happening. You were not ready to face Ryan. You didn’t think you would ever be to be. Not after everything that happened between the two of you.

“How the hell am I gonna find a date in less than a week?” you said with a sigh.

Funny how you always believed to be so empowered but the thought of meeting your ex by yourself on a wedding made dread and panic clench your insides. You could almost picture the grimace in Claire’s face just through her silence. You two have been friends since kindergarten, you knew her like the back of your hand.

“What about that guy you’ve been seeing?” she asked, and it was your turn to wince. Teddy was pretty fun, but more of a fuck buddy than a man you’d want to bring to your best friend’s wedding.

“I’ll figure something out,” you said with another sigh before saying your goodbyes and pocketing your phone just as your partner Jake called you over. You two had a witness to interview.

Work helped to get your mind off the situation, but as soon as you walked in your apartment, dropping your keys, badge and gun on the side table, the entire debacle returned to your mind and you flopped on the couch, browsing your contacts because facing Ryan alone was one of your worst nightmares.

Once up a time, Ryan had been the love of your life, the center of your universe. He was a couple of years older, had a punk rock band, tattoos and felt so dangerous. It had been such a thrill. Your parents hated him and hated who you became when you were with him. Then one night you came by his place and he had just up and left without explanation, without a goodbye.

You remembered running all the way back home, the cold air of the night drying your tears and your heart felt like it would never be whole again. Maybe it never mended right, because even though you had several relationships in the last ten years, they never seemed to last or to feel quite right.

It was something you avoided thinking about it and were mostly successful since you’ve been putting your career as a detective for NYPD as your biggest priority. You shouldn’t let the ghost of a ruined relationship you had when you were a teenager affect you or ruin your fun at your best friend's wedding.

That was easier said than done though because as soon as you set foot on your hometown you were hit by this overwhelming sense of nostalgia that settled on your chest and seemed unwilling to be shaken off. Everywhere you looked, your mind was flooded with memories and you never felt closer to your seventeen old self.

The feeling was especially strong when you met Claire and your other best friend Lydia at the same store the three of you bought your prom dresses so you could do the final fitting for your dress. Since you and Lydia had pretty much the same body type, she had been standing in for you and this was the first time you would actually try on the dress that Claire picked for you: a burgundy halter neck dress with a side slit that went up to your mid-thigh.

“You look amazing!” Claire gushed as she met your eyes through the mirror. You grinned at your best friend because she was right. It was a beautiful dress and fit you perfectly.

You paid for the dress and the three of you left the store heading to the same diner you used to hang out after school back in the day. You hoped they still served that heavenly chocolate milkshake and fries because you were starving.

By some miracle, your usual booth at the diner, the one right by the glass window, was free and you, Claire and Lydia took your seats, ordering a round of milkshakes and fries as you caught up with each other. Sure, you three talked every other week, but nothing beat being with them in person. It was light and fun and familiar, and you were having so much fun you forgot any worries you had until you saw him.

Ryan stood on the other side of the street and he looked like he was waiting for someone as he talked on the phone. He had changed so much in the past ten years. Gone were the purple mohawk, piercings and ripped shirts. Ryan had gone back to his natural blonde hair; his blue eyes were free of makeup and there was no piercing visible. He was dressed in a simple blue button-down and tan slacks that fitted him quite nicely.

He looked even more handsome than you remembered and your stomach felt queasy and twisted into knots at the sight of him. Especially when a brunette woman that belonged on the pages of a fashion magazine stepped out of the shop and met him. Ryan kissed her cheek and they walked away; arms linked together.

“You didn’t tell me he was bringing a date,” you croaked, glancing back at Claire.

“I didn’t know,” she said with a sympathetic expression. “Are you ok? What do you need?”

“Alcohol,” you declared, dropping a few bills on the table as you stood up. “Lots and lots of alcohol.”

It was a good thing that Lydia and Claire knew about the entire dirty affair between you and Ryan because they didn’t even blink at your request. Instead, they guided you out of the diner and two streets over to the bar you all used to go as teens. It was old and kind of seedy, but the drinks were cheap, there was a karaoke machine and the bartender still remembered your orders, so he kept them coming all night.

You left the bar with your friends around two in the morning, finding your way home and stumbling up to your childhood room, without waking your parents by some kind of miracle.

Once again you were swayed by the nostalgia that sent you into a fit of uncontrollable giggles. Sneaking home after too much booze? Could there be something more teenage to do?

And maybe it was this nostalgia that gave you the brilliant idea of digging out the stupid journal from under the loosen floorboard under your bed. It was an old leather-bound book you found at an antique store. The yellowing pages and intricate design on the cover had caught your eye and you ended up buying it because back then you were obsessed with becoming a Wiccan witch.

Flipping through the familiar pages, you smiled at the “spells” which were mostly badly written rhymes or some verses you found online. A spell to get good grades; another to make your father less annoying; one to make people fall in love with you; there was even one to summon a demon... You paused at those words, frowning at the page. You didn’t remember this one but it certainly your handwriting.

You got up in an impulse and gathered the ingredients the spell required: silver, ash, and bone. You took an old jewelry box that you found in your room, filled with a handful of your grandfather’s ashes, the black knight made of carved bone from your father’s chess set and the silver necklace your mom had given you for your sweet sixteen.

Once you had everything, you grabbed your journal of spells and the box and headed for the crossroads a couple of blocks from your parents’ house. The entire thing was crazy and the sane part of you kept telling you to go back home and sleep off your intoxication. Another part of you, which was louder, edged you forward.

You put the box in the middle of the crossroad and checked the spell again. There was one last ingredient that you hadn’t added: blood. You took out your hairpin, letting your long hair tumble free over your shoulders as you used the sharp edge to prickle our finger, flinching at the quick stab of pain. Crimson blood blossomed on your skin and you let it fall into the open box before you chanted the words on the journal three times as demanded.

Holding your breath you waited a few moments, but nothing happened except a slow drizzle starting to fall. The cold droplets made you laugh and sobered you up a little. What were you doing? This was ridiculous.

Rolling your eyes at yourself and sucking your wounder finger, you picked up the jewelry box from the dirt ground and turned on your heels to head home. You managed only a couple of steps when the wind picked up speed, making your hair wisp widely over your face, carrying around a deep throaty voice:

“Your Latin needs work.”

---

John was staring out of the window of his hotel room, sipping his bourbon when he felt the call. It had been a very long time since he had received a summoning. In these modern times, witches and warlocks were a rare breed and few of those who dabbled with magic had any actual power to execute a spell like this.

Apparently, someone in this tiny little town was powerful enough to do so and it was out of pure curiosity that John set his glass aside and followed the call. He found himself on a dirt crossroads, under a soft spring drizzle just as a young woman started to walk away from him.

He commented on her Latin to catch her attention, taking pleasure in the way she jumped startled before turning around the look at him, her doe eyes widening in surprise. She didn’t look particularly powerful or special, but there was something strangely enticing about her that sparked John’s curiosity.

“How...? Where...? Who...?” she stuttered too confused to really finish a sentence and John snorted.

“You summoned me here,” he replied with an arched eyebrow. “As for who, you may call me John.”

“A demon named John?” she snorted a laugh and John thought there was an edge of hysteria in her tone that he could only attribute to shock.

“Who were you expecting? Beelzebub?” he asked dryly. “So, what do you need?”

“What do I need?” she repeated a little dumbly and John shook his head with an exasperated sigh. This was starting to get annoying.

“Yes. Why did you summon me here?” he clarified.

“I... Well... I need a date.” she confessed, her cheeks turning a charming shade of red. “For a wedding.”

She quickly explained her situation and all John could do was stare in disbelief. This girl really summoned the powers of hell because she didn’t want to face her ex alone? It was preposterous.

“I didn’t think it would actually work!” she exclaimed, obviously noticing his disapproving expression. “How was I supposed to know I wrote down an actual summoning spell on my book of shadows when I was sixteen!?”

John shook his head, ready to go back to his hotel. This was pointless and he had a business deal to conclude in a few hours. Before he could do anything, he felt the wind changing directions and making him freeze as it brought along her scent.

It was so sweet and desirable, almost intoxicatingly so and it made John want to bury his nose in her neck. It was the smell of virtue. This woman had one of the purest souls he ever encountered.

“I can give you what you want,” John offered in a low voice, turning up all of his charms and being rewarded by the way she shuddered. “For a price.”

“I’m not selling my soul,” she replied as she took a step back.

John fought to contain his grin at her refusal. It meant he would have to work this in the old way. Corrupt her little by little. It had been a long time since anyone put up a challenge to him. The prospect excited him.

“I don’t always deal in souls,” he said moving closer to her. “Sometimes all I require is a favor.”

“What kind of favor?” she asked, eyes narrowing in suspicion and John felt a strange sense of pride. She might be naïve enough to summon him, but she wasn’t stupid.

“You’re learning,” he commented, gently tracing up her arm just to see her breath hitching, her scent changing slightly, acquiring a certain spiciness due to her arousal. “I don’t know yet. Someday I might need something, and you’ll have to give it to me.”

John waited as she thought through his offer. He could tell part of her wasn’t sure if this was really happening or if she was hallucinating due to too much alcohol.

“I assure you, darling,” he said, taking her hand in his hand bringing to his lips for a soft kiss, letting his teeth scrape over her knuckles. “I am quite real.”

“Will anyone get hurt? If I do this favor?” she asked her voice shaky, her cheeks flushed.

“No one needs to get hurt,” he assured, holding her gaze.

“Ok,” she finally said with a gulp. “If you promise no one will get hurt with this favor of yours, I accept. Where do I sign?”

“That’s not how demons seal contracts, darling…” John smirked at her, hand moving to her cheek, cradling her face and tilting her face up with a gentle nudge of his thumb on her chin. He could tell the exact moment she realized what was about to happen because her eyes darkened and her lips parted almost in an invitation.

John could hear her heart racing and the jumble of thoughts running through her head as he closed the distance between them and pressed his lips against hers. He was gentle because he didn’t want to scare her and it paid off because she sighed against his mouth, her hand coming to his chest and fisting his shirt as she pressed her mouth a little more firmly against his and John could feel her urge to have him.

His tongue teased the seam of her lips and she immediately parted them for him, letting John explore and chase the faint taste of liquor and the sweetness that seemed uniquely hers. It was almost addictive, especially the way she responded to him, her own tongue sliding against his, her body pressing closer. John could feel her arousal growing and igniting his own. It had been a long time since he felt this stirring with just a kiss.

He wrapped an arm around her waist to hold her steady and her hands timidly moved up to his neck, her fingers combing through his hair softly, almost like she was petting him, and this time John was the one to sigh against her mouth.

He could stay like this for a long time. As long as she wanted.

It was that treacherous thought that broke the spell and John pulled away from her, putting some physical distance between himself and the girl.

John lingered for a moment watching the way she sighed happily, eyes still closed, her fingers gently touching her lips, still caught up in the aftereffects of him charm. He felt a strange urge to return to her, catch her mouth again, but before he could succumb to those impulses, he went back to his hotel, putting some distance between himself and this alluring human.

He was the one doing the tempting, not the other way around. John needed to remember that.

(tbc)

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skvaderarts · 4 years ago

Text

Hiraeth Chapter 44: Archival

Masterlist can be found Here!

Chapter Forty-Four: Archival

Notes: Hey everyone, sorry I had to push back the last chapter on such short notice! I just honestly forgot how many days it was until my mom’s birthday and I wanted to give her all of my attention! Thanks for all the birthday wishes! She loved them!

(-~-)

The next day…

Honestly, the youngest living descendant of the Dark Knight Sparda couldn’t remember the last time that he’d seen snow outside of the Lamina mountain range. It had truly been a sight to see when they had arrived just a few hours ago at the crack of dawn, long before the majority of the townspeople had crawled out of their beds and made their way into the streets. They would be in for a rude awakening, much as poor Kyrie had been when he’d accidentally woken her up so early.

When the van had pulled up in front of the house, he had been surprised to see Kyrie standing in the doorway less than a minute later, clearly barely awake and not fully registering just how cold it was outside. The poor young woman had her robe halfway on, the cool night air kissing her exposed skin. To say that she was not thermally prepared for a light blizzard would be a bit of an understatement.

She’d nearly tripped down the stairs as she met Nero halfway, nearly leaping on him in excitement as she threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. No one needed to ask if she had missed him during his time away or if the young songstress had been worried about him. It was clear for anyone to see that she had nothing but love in her heart for Nero.

Kyrie had greeted V warmly as well, noting that it had been some time since she’d seen him, and that she hoped that things had been well for him in the interim. The young summoner had decided against mentioning his new ailment to her, preferring to not give her something else to worry about. Literally everything and everyone else was enough already. Instead, he simply reassured her that he was more or less content, something that wasn’t a lie. Curse or otherwise, he was at peace for perhaps the first time in his entire life. He would relish that.

After wishing her well, he, Nico, and Flora boarded the van again and headed back to the mainland, stating that they needed to do something with the scroll that Magnolia’s sister had gifted V after they dropped Dante off at his office. He had been asleep the entire time in the back of the van, and considering the circumstances, they had collectively chosen not to awaken him. Nero and Kryie wished them a safe trip and told them that they would contact the rest of the group if they happened to hear from Vergil, and then they went inside, eager to spend some quality time with one another for at least a few hours. That was the most that they were going to get with three kids in the house.

But now hours later, he was headed towards the last place that he wanted to set foot in again in order to complete an errand that V had requested of him. And he would have company. Apparently, there was still some work to be done at Fortuna castle, this time on behalf of the Ludwig family. It seemed that both they and V were keen to preserve as many of the books in the private library as possible. Admirable enough on paper, but still a miserable trek through the snow either way.

Just as he approached the ruined front gate to the castle’s bridge, a familiar face emerged from the frosty fog a few yards ahead of him, seemingly unperturbed by the extreme circumstances. It was Sirrus, here at the behest of both parties involved to help him do… something. Nero wasn’t sure he really truly understood, but he was certain that the adjudicator probably did and that he could fill him in while they headed towards the library. He wasn’t even going to ask how he beat him there. He’d been at the Ludwig estate long enough to know the answer to that question.

“Well, aren’t we a sight for sore eyes? It’s good to see you again so soon, Nero.” “I hope you’ll pardon my temporary departure. I had to go speak with my superiors. They summoned me, so there was no avoiding it, I’m afraid.”

“Hey, Sirrus. So that’s where you went right before we left, hu? Makes sense, I guess. How did it go, then?” Nero had had the feeling when they’d told him he’d be working with one of them again soon that it would be the powerful redhead with the dry humor, and it turned out he had been correct. Score one for Nero.

“Oh, I’d say it did. They don’t trust me as far as they can throw me, but that just comes with the territory, I’m afraid. But we can talk about it in more detail once we’re inside. This frigid wind isn’t exactly unfamiliar, but it’s still a bit much. I’m not keen on staying exposed to the elements for any longer than I have to be.”

Nero nodded. Now that was something that they could agree on. He just hoped that the swarm of cutlass that had been here last time had taken up residence somewhere else, or at least retreated back into the depths of Agnus’s laboratory. He didn’t feel like shooting every demon in this damn castle again. He had things to do today.

(-~-)

In truth, the marking made no sense to him.

Whatever Sirrus was doing seemed completely foreign and mystical to him, probably because it involved the use of some more arcane knowledge that he hadn’t the slightest idea about. He’d never even known that something like this existed until just recently, so seeing someone actually perform it was entirely new. In truth, he’d seen evidence of its presence in action before in this very castle when one took into account the many elaborate puzzles and traps that seemed to utilize an unknown source of power, but he hadn’t really put much thought into it at the time.

But now? Well, he couldn’t help but wonder who had put them in place. Surely someone from the Order, but that didn’t mean much in regards to figuring out who actually did it. He didn’t know most of the people in the higher echelons of the ill-fated Order of the Sword. That was by design. And as for what they were capable of and where some of them had disappeared to after things had gone down the way that they had? He was none the wiser. But he wished that he knew. He had some choice words for them. And probably a few bullets.

“So… how does this work? I mean, if you can do that, then why not just go back and forth to wherever you want to go like this?” Nero watched curiously as Sirrus fiddled with some sort of book, marking out a circle with several symbols upon it on the floor. A triangle overlapped it, forming a curious visual that he couldn’t say he’d seen before. The Adjudicator glanced up at him for a moment, seemingly acknowledging that he was benign spoken to but unable to maintain eye contact.

“As much as I’d love to, that’s not how this works. Only inanimate objects can pass through a portal such as this, and it requires two people in two different locations to just to be opened in the first place and to remain stable” Sirrus shrugged nonchalantly, working on some sort of symbol that he was marking out on the floor with white chalk. Nero had no idea what it meant, but he knew that it had to be magic in some way, shape, or form. “Your father’s blade is undeniably unique. It honestly fascinates me. I’d ask him to take a look, but I worry based on his rather unique answering conventions that he might literally give me exactly what I’m asking for.”

He went quiet for a short while at the mention of Vergil. It hadn’t really occurred to him until then that he actually missed his somewhat short-tempered and unpredictable father. None of them had yet to hear anything back from Vergil, and that fact alone was cause for concern. It wasn’t so much that he was the sort to check-in and ask for permission to complete a task. Far from it. But at least they normally knew where he was headed.

“You're probably in the clear. He only stabs people he’s related to these days. Well mostly. I even saw him spare someone once who helped kidnap V. Couldn’t tell you what was going through his head at the time, but he’s okay some of the time.” Nero allowed his mind to wander for a moment, pondering his wayward father’s current location. He couldn’t imagine that he was in danger. After all, he had been through worse before, and this time he at least had Yamato. Surely he would return soon.

And yet…

“Do you think I should be worried that he’s not back yet?”

“Sighing softly, Sirrus took a moment to consider his question before shaking his head. “If he indeed went to where you think he might have, then I suspect not. Time works differently across the Trinity of Realities, and I suspect that very little time has passed wherever he is, if any at all. There are rare places where time simply doesn’t seem to pass at all.”

“No shit, really? I heard something like that but… ” He stopped. Not really sure what else to say. They nodded to one another and then returned to sorting out the book in the room. It was best that they keep their minds busy.

Adding additional food for thought, Sirrus spoke again. “And unlike my father, yours seems to possess the capacity to actually care about another living being. He seems to find it trying a considerable majority of the time, but he possesses the desire to love and be loved nonetheless. There is hope yet for him. I think you’re in a good place. I like to hope that whatever tension there is between you can be worked out in the end.”

“I hope you're right. Any chance of working it out with yours?”

A humorless look crossed his face. As he looked through the younger devil hunter instead of at him, seeing him but at the same time, not seeing him at all. It was as if his eyes and his brain were not fully communicating. He fell quiet for a moment, fidgeting slightly. “... I’m afraid not. Any hope of that outcome dissolved after what happened between him and Aluta.”

Nero knew enough to not press the issue any further, even if he was somewhat quiet. After close to a minute of silence, Sirrus glanced at him momentarily before speaking again, not keen on keeping whatever was on his mind buried there any longer.

“Generally speaking, it’s in poor taste to date someone younger than your own children. If nothing else, it causes a fair bit of tension.”

Taking a moment to register that statement, Nero continued to try and organize the books, eager to not spend the entire day in this library. As much as he knew that V would disagree with his sentiments, he had to admit that he was glad that most of the books were old and damaged in this part of the library. There were at least a dozen extra-large moving boxes filled with books, each one weighing about a hundred pounds.

Oh, how Nero hoped that his brother wouldn’t find a way to hurt himself by moving them around his house. But deep down, he knew that he would. It wasn’t so much that V was clumsy as it was that he was simply unfortunate, and if his little move had gone the way that it had, he was sure that this would go much the same. Or perhaps he would learn from his previous mistakes and opt into a much more cautious approach this time around? Who was to say? He was smart, after all, and Flora was there to assist him. He could only imagine that, given the size of V’s house, that they would be taking the majority of the books. That was probably for the best, all things considered. V would get nothing done with that many books in his house.

Nero then paused for a moment, his brow furrowing as something occurred to him that hadn’t until just then. He turned and looked over at Sirrus, registering the fact that he was quickly sorting through an entire bookshelf and stacking the books into two different boxes. Nero had been doing the same, but at a much slower rate. It turned out that it was difficult to categorize and sort books that you couldn’t fucking read. Big surprise there.

“Hold on a second… Did you just say…”

“That I am older than Aluta? Yes. Yes, I did. Because I am.” Sirrus chuckled slightly, continuing to pick up books, gently flip through them, and then place them into their requisite boxes. He seemed to find something enormously entertaining about Nero’s flabbergasted demeanor, carefully concealing his amusement so as to not come off as a smug jerk. Well, at least not more than he was sure he already did most of the time. He silently hoped that he wasn’t actually as insufferable as he assumed that he was. He just lacked social skills.

Leaning over to take a closer look at the smarmy redhead, the youngest Descendant of Sparda made no effort to conceal his deep-seated confusion at this revelation. How could that be possible? Sirrus looked the same age that he and V looked, and while Aluta didn’t look particularly old herself, he knew that she had to be at least old enough to be his mother due to the singular fact Vergil had known her as a teen when he himself had been one at the same time, albeit slightly older than her. For him to be even a year older than her implied that he aged even better than Vergil, and that didn’t seem physically possible for a normal human being.

Oh, that was right. Sirrus had stated before that he wasn’t human, hadn’t he? Back on Vie De Marli What had his words been back then? “I am not what you are” or something like that? He’d implied early into their working relationship that he wasn’t even remotely human, so that made the possibility of him being something capable of living longer and aging slower logical. But then that once again raised the question as to what he actually was. Nero couldn’t think of any other beings in their world that looked so… human. If he wasn’t technically a demon and he wasn’t at all human, then what the hell was he? What else was there?

Clearly noticing that Nero was staring him up and down like he’d grown a second head, Sirrus laughed in earnest. It wasn’t every day that he got to see someone look at him like that. Most of the people that he spent time around didn’t know enough about him to even inquire into things like his age. At most, he was occasionally asked about his accent if he allowed it to slip, but aside from that, people didn’t really give a damn about his personal life. Or him, for that matter. Adjudicators worked solo on most endeavors. They had no reason to get to know one another.

“You seem shocked to have learned this, Nero. Do I look a bit young for my age?”

Giving him a sideways look, Nero looked down at the floor for a moment before shaking his head and sighing, returning to stacking books. This had been a weird few weeks. No doubt about it. Ever since the Redgrave Incident, he’d had a very hard time understanding what was going on. So much had been thrown at him all at once, and he was still grappling with a good deal of it.

“Poor V,” He thought to himself. “I’ve got it pretty rough, but he was just minding his own business walking around, and then he just woke up in the middle of this nightmare. He had to do whatever he could just to stay alive, and then to find out that he wasn’t even totally human and then die and come back just for this stupid demon prince bastard to come after him? He doesn’t deserve any of this. Neither of us does.”

But they were going to work it out. Of that, he was sure. And this somehow would assist in that endeavor. When V had told the Ludwigs about these books, they had seemed very interested, and he genuinely hoped that they did find something interesting or useful about their opponent in these volumes. At the very least, relocating them somewhere more secure so that they were out of the hands of undesirables forever was a good place to start. All they would do is sit here and rot if anyone worth their salt in Fortuna had anything to say about it.

“Smartass,” Nero said with a genuine laugh, admittedly somewhat amused by Sirrus’s extremely sarcastic and rhetorical question. Slowly but surely he was starting to understand his dry sense of humor. Or, at least, he was starting to understand why V understood it so well. The two of them seemed to get along pretty well. Nero was glad that his slightly older sibling seemed to have made something close to a friend. He could be so unintentionally antisocial at times despite the fact that he knew deep down that V didn’t want to be and probably just wanted companionship. Poor guy.

“What can I say, you're not wrong,” Sirrus said with a soft laugh, smiling gently but with a slight tinge of something else. Was that sadness? It was difficult to say. Despite his normally straightforward demeanor, he was hard to read. “Let’s finish up here and head back to the mainland. I have something that I think might help lift you and your brother’s spirits a bit. We could all use a distraction from time to time. What do you say?”

Nero shrugged, more or less fine with that option. He could always double back with Nico once they were finished. They couldn’t really do much more until they found out where his father had disappeared to, anyway. Right now, everything hinged on his return. None of them were going to formulate a plan that he wasn’t included in. He and V knew the most about their opponent. For now, they would bide their time and try to remain reasonably calm.

“You know what? Fine by me. Let’s go. V needs to get out of the house and go do something. I think he’s starting to develop a phobia of stores or something.”

(-~-)

Wow, this one was on time for some reason. I don’t understand what happened. By the way, for those of you who read Saudade, this is the night where they go to the furniture store and Sirrus covertly buys V all that furniture. I figured that some of you might be wondering that. What’s that? None of you were? Oh. Well, anyway-

Happy Wednesday or whatever! Hope you’ve had a good week so far. I’ve been trying to branch out into freelance writing because I live in a conservative anti-vax hellhole where people protest the administration of a vaccine at all, refused to wear masks despite being one of the highest case areas in the entire country, and I refuse to work another low paying retail or fast food job and put my fragile lungs in harm's way only to still not be able to afford my rent.

I’ll keep you all posted on that in case it means I have to shift the upload schedule. It probably won’t, but I just thought I’d let you know. Let me know if any of you have any pointers or advice in regards to working in that field. Oh, and don’t worry, the books are still happening. I’m just building the ordering system. See you in the comments!

#Hiraeth #Nero #Sirrus #My Post Devil May Cry 5 AU #Devil May Cry FanFic

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creators-novel · 4 years ago

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Back at their home, Red and Koto were taking it easy. Straus was a little late getting back but they didn’t worry about it too much since they knew if it were an emergency, they would have known about it by now. Until Koto felt a stinging sensation within her very soul, the same that alerted her to Synthis’ presence. “Ow-...”, she looks around at the Worlds and everything seems ok, “That’s…odd.”

“Koto?”, asks Red.

Koto grips her shirt and looks scared, “…Red, please look after everyone. I think Straus in is trouble!”

“Wait what-?! Um- ok-! … (…he’s lucky to have family like her around…)”

“I’ll be back soon!”, Koto summons a portal leading in the direction Straus went, “Let’s see…I guess if these jolts get worse, I’ll know I’m going in the right direction.”

Koto can’t help but feel a weird sense of nostalgia, finding her way around the Multiverse looking for Straus reminded her of her mission to make it back to her original home. During her time with Straus, the two have made attempts at finding it, but they either get lost or get tired from traveling too far and have to go back. Before she has time to dwell on it all, she feels another sharp pain in her chest, more intense than before. “Gh-! I must be getting warmer. His last location must be right under my- “, she trips on a World Orb that was on the ground, “OOF-…nose.”

Meanwhile, from atop the mountain, two cloaked figures watch as Straus flies over the city, causing destruction in his wake. The promise to himself to never kill didn’t matter right now, he felt as though this was right. He was avenging not only his mother but the life he lost due to the humans’ malice. The figures see Koto land on another part of the mountain. “Ah…there she is…”

“Do you think she alone can help him?”

“…I might have to step in…that poor child…”

“This place seems interesting…”, Koto ponders. She looks up to see a winged monster terrorizing the city below, “That must be what’s attacking Straus!” The fiend charges and fires a laser from its mouth, shaking the ground. As Koto catches her balance, one of the cloaked figures appears next to her.

“Er- hi there? Have you seen my brother?”

The cloaked individual points towards the winged beast.

“Huh-? I know the fellow up there has to be stopped but I’m here on a rescue mission so- “, upon closer inspection, she realizes that the person causing all of this chaos is the person she came to save. “…Straus? No- No he wouldn’t do something like this!!”, in a panic, Koto takes off running down the mountainside with the person in the cloak trailing close behind. The person speaks, “There may be things you don’t understand right now, but this is our home.” Koto skids to a halt as the other person continues to run, “…Our? What is going on today!?”

Straus continues to bring havoc upon the human city. Firing barrages of magic and striking down anyone who tries to take a shot at him. The humans meanwhile are in a state of panic. Most white-souled people were dead or in hiding these days; they also didn’t know they could grow to be this powerful. In their minds, this was the whole reason they wanted them dead in the first place. Such a danger to their society should be put down, right? Why try to assimilate them or welcome them when they could pose a serious threat? Who cares if they’re innocent bystanders when any one of them could have become this powerful? What they did was right.

To them anyway.

When humans are threatened, they don’t care what lengths they have to go to feel safe again. Even if that means killing their own kind. The white-souled people, the Devils, they were people too. They cried out for security and justice and just an ounce of safety in this cruel World they were born into.

But humans

Never

Listen.

“Is this what you were afraid of all along? Or is this what you all deserved?”, Straus looms over the city and starts to charge one final attack. Suddenly, the hooded figure reaches his position. She ran so fast that a gust of wind followed her and almost blew Straus out of the sky. Straus shakes his head as he regains balance, “mmf- who…?” Koto catches up and calls out to him, “STRAUS!”

He backs away from the two, “G-…go away…! I’m…doing justice…!”

The hooded figure calls out, “What you’re doing is a massacre! Please calm down and we can talk this out.”

Straus gets defensive, “No!”

“Hurting these people won’t change how they about your people, Straus. And killing them isn’t going to help your mental state. You’ve learned that lesson, haven’t you?”

“They MURDERED me! You don’t know anything about this place!”, Straus charges at the figure but in a swift motion, she catches his hands, disabling his weapons. The figure’s hood falls, revealing a woman with long, white hair. Straus tries to continue fighting but she pulls him in and hugs him. “Gh-! Let me go! Let me g-“, at that moment, his Devil form deactivates; but instead of raven black hair, it returns to a snowy white.

“Easy now…it’ll be ok…”

Straus feels the gentle embrace as if he knows this comforting presence. For him and the woman, one last memory comes to light.

A mother is helping her son get home from school. The son is holding an action figure of a cyborg and the mother has a bandage around her leg. She narrowly avoided an encounter with humans on the way to pick him up, but not without a few scratches.

“But, Mom! What if one day they get you!? I wanna know how to help you!”

The mother pulls her son into a gentle hug, “Easy now…it’ll be ok…”

Straus is overwhelmed with sadness, “…wh-…what in the Multiverse is this…?”

The woman looks at Straus with newfound recognition and tears in her eyes.

“…Hello again, my son.”

“Mom...? But you-“

“I know…I thought the same thing about you. But I guess miracles do exist, right?”

“This life…it wasn’t fair…”, Straus holds on tight to his mother as he too begins to cry.

“I know…I know…”, she smiles at Koto, “But it looks like you had some friends to help you out.”

“She’s more than a friend to me. Right sis?”

Koto smiles and nods, “Right!”

Straus hides his face, “I’ve missed you…I didn’t think I’d ever see you again after what this World did to us…”

His mother holds him close, “I kept holding onto the hope that I’d see you again…and here you are!”

While this touching reunion was happening, any surviving humans began to close in around the small family.

“Disgusting…”

“What a hideous display…!”

“…No monster deserves redemption, especially this one!”

“We should KILL them while their guards are down!”

Koto didn’t quite understand what happened to Straus and his mother, but at that moment it didn’t matter; her instinct to protect her family kicked in. Her Supernova form flares up for a moment as she casts a barrier and shouts, “GO AWAY!” The humans back up a few paces, having never witnessed something like that before. “We should leave now.”, says Straus, “I think this place is toxic to us…” “Right!”, says Koto as she opens a portal home. “By the way Mah- er- ma’am, may I ask your name?” Straus’ mom chuckles, “Of course, dear. My name is Pandora.”

Pandora and Koto step through the portal together. Straus takes one more look at his HomeWorld and the people living in it. He points to his eyes then points back at all of the people.

“…Filthy humans.”

He then jumps through the portal back to the safety of his Space.

#creators #creators novel #creators-novel.tumblr.com #chapter 32 #purple #red #indigo #violet #confliction #fire #devil #digital art #my art #artists on tumblr #origin story #original character #original story #reunion

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izzy223-doglover · 5 years ago

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Lucid meets Sapphire again.

((This Time Lucid will be looking for sapphire to question everything she knows about fusions.))

Lucid was tracking her secretly following how her soul found new ways to dodge his abilities to located her if he was too late. He’s been following her faint trails of lillies that guy set on fire. “Heheh got you. No where you can run.” Nightmare said quietly. “Thanks! Crystal eye! That kingdom of pure fire nearly set my hair on fire.” Sapphire said to her cousin. “”Anytime my queen you know my role is to fix you so your subjects only see ther great sapphire queen. You know what could happen if they saw you not all beautiful like I need to do.” She said chuckling as her braids became a new stylist look with a lovely new shine. “All done Queen Sapphire!” She said helping her up then opening the doors. “Heheheh oh you know I’m not queen until my mom hands her crown over.” Sapphire said as an angel and a devil wind appear.

Lucid tries to think of a way by while their mot looking. “Ugh if I don’t something now I can’t get her information.” He said as he looks a for away to get her away from that door.

A dragon was doing her normal fly around then spots something roars for help. “Uhh Nope Let’s tun!” Dream shouts as he made the body move from the dragon. Little did they know that crystal eye had it open but no one can enter it so it’s like a glass door. “What’s the matter Pluto?! I thought I told you no one should be able to find us! Ugh! This is why you don’t have pet dragons on guard duty!” She shouts as crystal like weapons appear to slow down Lucid but he dodge them all about yo enter but got stopped by his own tentacles as he sees the dragon about to eat him. “Oh no you don’t!” Sapphire shouts as the dragon backs off and bows calmly. “You really think I would let you enter my kingdom with that kind of stunt? You have a lot of nerve to be out where your little friends can’t save you?” Sapphire said. “Don’t you think is odd that he got here cousin sapphire?” Crystal eye says. “Yes and he’s not entering my domain! He’s powers alone could sway my future one of chaos and distraction! He’s not allowed in! Only if he can prove himself in a battle out here and you’ll be watching have the door on record.” She instructed as she lets go of lucid’s shirt. “One via one. Any and all powers are allowed oh and the entire multiverse shall watch you fall!” She said laughing loudly.

A bit later somewhere else...

Debug was busy helping his friends and family with setting up a network to find lucid after he heard she met sapphire he had to try and stop lucid before he’s in big trouble. That was until he saw a broadcast of some sort. “Welcome all who are here to watch this live event!! It’s time for you to see lady sapphire the next queen versus Lucid a unique type of being. Please vote who you think will win!! And if they get stop let us know!” Crystal shouts happily as she made them see a battle arena.

“I’m not here to fight!” Lucid shouts at her in pure anger.

“I don’t care!” Sapphire says. “You tried to enter against my permission!” She said as she starts to fly up and summon a deadly spell to get him off balance. “You will feel nothing for the next few decades!” She shouts pulling out her staff.

Lucid backs up and looks for a way to knock her down and fast to talk to her. “Come on where’s that opening.” He says shooting when he can but stop when he realizes that she’s no longer there but somewhere else as he looks for her.

Sapphire turns to another spot. “He’s going to try and find a weakness Dude is too dence to realize I’m always one step ahead of him.” She says as she pulls out deadly weapons to strike him when he hits her in the cheek and slams him down. “No one touches my face!” She shouts as she hits him more.

Nightmare and dream try to get her off of their body as they work together to get to Sapphire’s mind. Sapphire was making an impossible way in or out. “We can’t calm her down! You need to hit her necklace!!” Dream and Nightmares said. Lucid nods as he jumps up and hits her necklace to stop this but just he did that her body weakens and falls to the ground and she pulls a knife to protect her delicate form left.

Crystal freaks out and stops the show as she picks her cousin and hold her close catching the power necklace.

Lucid looks confused. “Tell me how you know us combos.” He states blanket.

Crystal stops moving for a bit. “We created our own combo and that combo is as strong as the you she controls it in the necklace you pulled off. Her combo is a living breathing lizard that needs to feel her emotions. The lizard you broke her link now it’s going to find you but lucky for you I catch it’s necklace now it will not look for you for a while but hear this warning come after any of us children of this kingdom and you won’t be so lucky.” She states with pure hate. With that said he was sent back to debug and the others.

Debug checks him for anything he can extract but found a note on his back.

‘Remember to tell everyone to watch their tongue! From crystal eye.’

“This is why you listen befor you get hurt!” His knight shouts on a monitor. “I’ve been doing I own research and she could have hurt you!” Another person shouts.

“That was Worth it!” Lucid said so amazed by everything he got. A lizard combo a crystal eye girl a new queen and even more odd beings. He was too much in his awing he wasn’t paying any attention. “Sorry it’s just that battle was amazing?! She moved unlike anyone I know?! And she can be a butterfly being! Did you know she has her own creation she’s connected too?! We could do much with her help!” He said happily.

Debug faces palmed he was hit with her positive bomb this will last a few days. “Okay guys lets get him calmed down.” He said getting their friend back to a room to relax.

((Wonder if that positive bomb effects him longer than normal~?))

Lucid and debug be long too @andrewture

Sapphire and Crystal eye belong to me.

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tenshiscientia · 4 years ago

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Submit to Me

Guys, again this one is entirely fucking dark! The entire Submit to me Series is going to be fucking dark as hell! Like I said in Dante’s exploring new ways to write!

Nero

*taptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptap*

It was raining again outside, harder this time than it was last time. Mikazuki watched the rain hit the window, the cold outside fogging up the window due to the warmth inside.

'Damn I really need to stay away from the rain. I love it so much. But it truly makes me far to dangerous.'

Mikazuki pulled herself away from the window in the front room of Devil May Cry and wandered to the back where there was a training room. Vergil and Nero had decided to train together that day. She slipped inside the training room and took up a seat along the wall and got comfortable. She watched her son, Nero, as he trained with his father. The both of them had forgone their shirts in turn of going with just a set of shorts and bare skin.

Mikazuki's mouth watered as she watched her mate for a few seconds, before she saw him push Nero back and slam him against the wall on the opposite side of the room. Nero slid to the floor and remained there for a second before raising his head and glaring at Vergil.

"What the hell, old man?!" he yelled, swiping a hand across his mouth then pulling it away and looking at it.

Blood was smeared across his hand and he spit more out of his mouth.

"Keep an eye on your opponents movements, Nero. You can't let them get past your guard. You'll end up dead...or worse..." Vergil's voice echoed across the room.

'Or worse...or worse...or worse...'

____________________________

Mikazuki shook her head and laughed as she stood up and walked to her son. Nero gazed up at her a question in his blue eyes.

"Oh poor boy. Such power, but with no idea how to use it." she whispered to him.

Reaching down she ran her fingers over his cheek, wiping away blood after trailing down to his lips, then wrapped her hand around his throat and lifted him into the air. Choked sounds escaped Nero's lips as his hands came up to claw at Mikazuki's. Mika merely laughed again before tossing him across the room.

"You think you have the strength to match me, child. You stand no chance whatsoever. Now get up, I don't want to feel guilty when I kill you." she sneered at him.

"Mom, what is up with you. Why are you doing this?" Nero asked, voice panicky.

"You're weak. Not worthy of being alive. At least in the form you are right now. But have no worries...I'll still keep you around...even if you aren't of my blood, I've become fond enough of you to call you my son." Mikazuki laughed as she closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around herself then flung them out.

Large angel wings of black unfurled from her back raining down black feathers. Dark laughter bubbled from Mikazuki's lips as she opened her eyes. They now held a silvery hue that Nero had never seen before. Fear lodged itself into Nero's chest. This was not the mother that he had adopted as his own when she, Dante, Vergil, and Sparda had returned from the Underworld.

This was someone entirely different.

"Nero..." Mikazuki's voice echoed slightly, "kneel."

Before he knew what he was doing, Nero fell to his knees, his body automatically following her command for some reason. An insane smile spread across Mikazuki's face.

"Very good, my son." she purred.

Walking forward, Mikazuki reached out and cupped Nero's chin in her hand.

"Already the perfect little slave."

"Mom, what the fuck?" Nero spat, jerking away.

*SMACK*

"Slaves and monsters do not talk to their masters. They don't have moms. They don't have anything. They aren't anyone, unless their master deems them to be." Mikazuki yelled at him.

Nero's jaw dropped as he was stunned into silence. For months now, Mikazuki had told him over and over that he wasn't a monster. That he was more human than demon, and that it was okay to have a devil side just as long as he didn't let it rule him.

"M-mom..."

Another slap rang through the room.

"Master, you worthless monster!" Mikazuki hissed.

A cruel smirk spread across her face.

"If you want the honor of calling me 'mom' again, you will have to earn it." Mikazuki whispered, cupping his chin in her fingers before throwing him back onto the floor.

Nero remained there, trying to figure out what brought about this change in his mother.

"Now, little slave, remove your shirt." Mikazuki instructed.

Nero's celestine eyes snapped to hers, but this seemed to only infuriate Mikazuki.

"Slaves do not look at their Masters!" she snapped, Cosmos appearing in her hand and flicking forward.

The next thing that Nero knew, the side of his face was burning just below his eye. He cried out and turned away, shielding his face from Mikazuki. Bringing his hand away from his face he looked at it and saw it was covered in blood.

"Next time you look at me slave, I'll take your eye as punishment. Now remove your shirt. Don't make me repeat myself again. That is something I don't like doing. You'll do well to learn that quickly." Mikazuki hissed, raising Cosmos to her fingers and letting two of them trail through Nero's blood.

Humming to herself, she brought her fingers to her lips and gently sampled Nero's blood with a small lick. Then with a pleased sound, she drew them into her mouth and cleaned them, eyes closing slightly. Nero had raised his gaze just enough to see what Mikazuki was doing and as he saw her slip her blood covered fingers into her mouth, he shivered. He heard his demon side whisper to him in his head how utterly beautiful she looked doing that. Almost questioning what she would look like with blood smeared entirely over her lips.

Nero shook his head, cringing away from the thought. That was utterly and entirely disgusting. Enjoying the taste of blood and thinking that someone looked good with it on them.

'But you can't deny it...' his demon whispered again, 'That pale skin...the way she calls you slave...you love it, you want it, you need it. That human female isn't enough for you. She can't give you what you want...what you NEED.'

"Shut up..." Nero muttered aloud, pressing his hands to the sides of his head and shaking it.

Mikazuki looked down at him and smirked.

"Ah, your demon is talking to you I see. What is it saying to you slave? What is it telling you, and please spare me no details. I want to know everything." she whispered, slowly kneeling down before him, sliding her hand through the mess of blood that was still on the side of his face.

The cut may have healed, but the blood remained coagulated and smeared on his skin.

"He...it...I..." Nero stuttered out.

"Oh come now, little slave. You can do better than that. You don't have to worry. It's just us here. No one else to hear you.

Tell me what your demon wants. What does it desire." she whispered gently, thumb rubbing gentle circles into his cheek.

"It wants me to...submit...to you...it likes it...liked it when you licked my blood from your fingers, and...and called me...slave and...and monster. It...it enjoyed it. And...and I...I did too..." Nero refused to look Mikazuki in the eye, eventhough she was forcing him to face her.

Mikazuki smiled sweetly.

"Oh you enjoy being demeaned and seeing me take you life essence. You filthy thing." she hissed, throwing him onto his back.

"You think you would enjoy me bleeding you. Enjoy me drawing intricate patterns with my blade in your skin. Watching the blood drip down skin. To cut you over and over until your healing abilities finally can't keep up. Poor thing to think so, but if that's what you want, who am I to deny you?" she smirked down at him.

Standing up, Cosmos flashed to her hand and she stabbed it into his shoulder and pinned him to the ground.

"But just remember, slave...you asked for this!" Mikazuki's voice hissed softly over Nero's form.

Twisting Cosmos, she ripped it out of his shoulder only to plunge it into his other one and do the same. Nero cried out, but didn't pull away. His demon had been right. He did want this. He want to have his blood drawn.

"Look at you, you little blood slut. It's like your getting off on me hurting you." Mikazuki laughed.

She ripped Cosmos out of Nero's shoulder then plunged it into his hip. A shrill cry left Nero's lips and he started to reach for Cosmos.

"Ah ah. No touching." Mikazuki chided, summoning a shimmering black sword and impaling it into Nero's hand, pinning it to the ground.

"You lost your choice when you told me you wanted to bleed. Now hold still...I'm not done with you..." she laughed, her eyes turning even more silver.

Ripping Cosmos out of Nero's hip, Mikazuki drew it down Nero's chest, a distant look on her face.

"So, slave, do you want to earn back your title?" she whispered gently.

Nero nodded his head, a small whimper passing his lips. His eyes flickered up to Cosmos which was hovering in the air above him.

"That's a good boy. I'll let you do just that. Now close your eyes." Mikazuki instructed.

Nero nodded and closed his eyes waiting for Mikazuki to tell him how to earn back what he wanted. Then suddenly Cosmos plunged itself down into Nero's throat, forcing Nero's eyes open as he tried to figure out what just happened. Mikazuki forced Cosmos all the way through Nero's throat until the golden hilt touched skin. Then swiftly slid it out, allowing the blade to dissipate in a swirl of black before she leaned over him to bring a hand behind his head and tilt it so she could look in his eyes.

"There now, my son. You are once again worthy of that title. The strength you hold will be held by a worthy person for a long, long time. You my son, will serve me until I no longer need you. Sweet Nero, become my Living Scythe." she whispered sweetly to him.

Nero's body shimmered, then glowed. His body became a glowing orb or light before alighting in Mikazuki's hand. After another flash of light, a deadly looking scythe appeared in her hand. A blade at each end curved wickedly both directions, each a midnight blue. The long handle of the scythe was blood red, yet had veins of midnight blue running all over it.

Standing, Mikazuki made a few twirls with the scythe then a few killing strikes with each end of the scythe.

"Yes, you will serve me well. You will stay with me forever, my beloved son." Mikazuki whispered to the scythe, caressing one of the blades lovingly.

_______________________

"Nero, get your ass off the floor and fight back. I swear to Minerva above, if I have to come out there and train with you myself...ooooo boi, you will be a sorry mess by the time I'm done with your ass!" Mikazuki yelled, snapping out of her inner musings, realizing Nero had gotten knocked into the wall again.

"Kid, you might want to get up. She's not kidding about the 'kick your ass' part. I've gotten on her bad side Nero. I don't think my pride will ever recover." Dante teased as he walked into the training room.

"Fuck off, old man!" Nero yelled, but got up quickly and squared back off with his father.

'Shit that boy needs to be taught to fight better...my demon's going to get the better of me one day...Minerva help the boy if that happens...'

Mikazuki turned away as Nero launched himself at Vergil again. As swords clashed, she shook her head. This place would be the death of her.

#nero #another read at yer own risk #torture #blood #weapons #sword #stabbing #derogatory #demeaning #hurtful #i was not nice to nero

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platypanthewriter · 4 years ago

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The Devil Looks After His Own Ch2

Part 1: Little Steve Harrington is so lonely he tries summoning a demon with a ritual advertised on TV--but luckily, it doesn't work, and a buff, non-human nanny hired by his mom shows up minutes later. Years later, they're best friends, and Steve still doesn't know the truth. For @magniloquent-raven!

The other thing that Billy did that no other grown-ups Steve knew had ever done was have sex in bathrooms. He wasn’t sure for a while—because Billy always made sure Steve was fine, settled with his pancakes at IHOP, or in the play area at Fred Meyer—but Billy would leave for about twenty minutes, and come back sweaty and grinning, and kind of tired.

Steve snuck after him, once, and saw someone holding Billy’s wrists against the wall of the bathroom and kissing him, sliding his hand down to unbutton Billy’s jeans and pull his penis out, and Steve had stared through his fingers just long enough to see Billy grinning into the kisses, and shifting his hips.

Steve’d run back to his pancakes, his heart pounding.

He realized, thinking about it as he drew designs in the syrup with his fork, that Billy was that thing he’d heard yelled when somebody kissed boys—a slut—and he wondered whether it mattered. Billy did everything he was supposed to do, and he was nice, and stuck around with Steve in the shoe section while Steve tried on every single pair, and then when Steve didn’t want any of them, Billy took him to three more stores.

It couldn’t be a bad thing, Steve thought, biting his lips, not if Billy was one.

When the guy who’d been kissing Billy walked out—he had gray speckled feathered wings, so Steve was pretty sure it was him, even from the back—Steve ducked his head down over his pancakes. By the time Billy wandered back, still grinning, to slump in the booth, Steve’s jaw had firmed. Billy had looked happy, and he was okay, Steve was pretty sure. Probably. Even if it was the kind of thing that made parents yell like they did when they were scared.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his cheeks reddening again, keeping his eyes on his eggs. Billy sat up and faced him, flattening his hands on the table.

“What,” he asked, levelly.

“Are you okay,” Steve mumbled stubbornly, hunching his shoulders. “Y-you looked—okay. H-happy.”

“...you followed me,” Billy whispered, his fingers clenching into fists. “Shit. Uh, darn. ...it.”

“I won’t tell,” Steve said, shrugging awkwardly, and wishing he hadn’t been worried enough to see where Billy was going, because now he was more worried. “If—if you’re okay.”

“...I’m fine,” Billy said, which was what he’d said when Steve’s dad had threatened to fire him, and Steve wasn’t sure he believed it.

He forced himself to look up at Billy, surveying his just-washed face, and how pale he’d gotten since Steve opened his dumb mouth. “I’m not mad,” he said, which was weird to say to a grownup, but Billy looked like he might want to know.

“Just disappointed?” Billy asked, laughing, and grimacing.

“No,” Steve said quickly. “I-I’m not.” He’d been thinking about Tommy’s elder sister, and how she’d gotten in big trouble when their parents found condoms in her room—and how he and Tommy had hidden at the top of the stairs, listening to Tommy’s parents yell. “Um are you u-using condoms,” he asked as fast as he could, and Billy choked on the water he was sipping, coughing and thumping himself in the chest.

“Kid,” he spluttered, and Steve made a face at him.

“Are you?” he hissed. “You have to be safe. I love you.”

Billy stared at him for a long second, until Steve started feeling embarrassed, even though it was just what he said every night, as Billy put him to bed. “...love you too, brat,” he finally muttered back, leaning his face in his arms on the table with a deep sigh. “I’m...fine.”

“I don’t believe you,” Steve said, his cheeks heating further, because he’d found Billy that very morning trying to fill a sandwich with chunky soup. “We should—we should talk to—to my mom, or a teacher. So—so you can be safe—”

“Oh my god,” Billy mumbled, folding his arms over his head. His ears were very red. “I can’t catch anything from a human, okay, I’m not gonna get syphilis.”

Steve had no idea what that was, but it didn’t make him any less worried. He took a bite of egg as the server came over and asked how his breakfast was, and he nodded to her, smiling, even though he was so worried the egg tasted like nothing. “Wh-what about saying no,” he whispered to Billy, as soon as she was gone. “You, um, you can say no to—to uh, things, right?”

“I can and I do, kiddo,” Billy laughed, sliding his hand over to link their pinkies, his face still hidden in his other arm. “I’m okay, Stevie, I swear. You made sure I could say no, remember?”

“You’re still bad at it,” Steve said, because usually Billy scooped him up and put him in the bath, or in bed, even if Steve was laughing and yelling ‘Nope! No! You jerk, I’m still eating!’, but sometimes Steve would forget, and tell Billy to do something, and Billy would take a deep breath and hold very still until Steve remembered.

“Sure, with you,” Billy said, raising his head enough to grin lazily at Steve, and Steve couldn’t help smiling back.

“We should talk to—to somebody,” he said, stubbornly. “A—a real grownup.”

“I’m real,” Billy huffed.

“Somebody older,” Steve hissed, and Billy made a face.

“I’m older than your dad,” he muttered, crossing his arms.

“But you—you’re not human,” Steve reminded him. “You—you’re like a teenager. You said.”

“Nooo, come on, kiddo, lemme alone,” Billy groaned. “I’m old enough.”

Steve narrowed his eyes and grabbed Billy’s phone, and typed s-a-f-e into the search bar, and then braced himself, and tapped s-e-x. He hunched his shoulders, his face burning, and hit search. He found a lot of...things, and squeaked in a kind of dying way through his hand.

Billy snatched the phone back, looked at it, and said “Oh my god. Stevie. Stop. I will research it myself, and I—I will be careful. Okay?”

Steve buried his hot face in his hands, nodding, and trying to suppress horrified giggles. He kinda wanted to turtle into his jacket, or crawl away under the tables, but he just pulled his knees up on the seat, and tried not to whine like a tea kettle.

Billy grimaced, scrolling through his phone, and Steve realized—while his ears probably smoked with the imagery he’d seen about things in butts—that Billy’s shoulders were up, and he had his arms crossed in front of himself too.

“Sorry,” Steve wheezed, through his fingers. “Y-you aren’t—you aren’t gross! Sorry! I just—I just love you and—I have to keep you safe—”

“I have to keep you safe,” Billy told him, grinning, and shaking his head. “I’m more grown up than you, fetus.” His cheeks were pink, and Steve scowled at him, then kicked at his knees under the table.

“You’re bad at some things!” he hissed, as Billy yelped, swinging his legs away. “I have to help, I have to help you—”

Billy shushed him, laughing, and then opened his mouth, and closed it, as Steve sipped at his hot chocolate. Billy waved at it, and suddenly it was hot again like it had just come from the kitchen, and had rainbow sprinkles, and Steve sighed, wanting to—hug him, or something, and feeling the same annoying worry he always felt when he wasn’t doing enough. He knew Billy’d stay, he told himself, as long as he could.

As long as Steve could keep him wanting to.

“Finish your pancakes,” Billy told him, grinning. “Gonna take you to the park.”

Steve liked the park okay, mostly because it was where they went when somebody was happy with him, but it was also worrying, because it was where they went when his parents wanted him to shut up and go play. He was pretty sure this time was both, but when they got out to the parking lot, Billy grabbed him and spun him around so his legs swung around in the air, and hugged him the whole way to the car, and when they got there, he didn’t send Steve off to play while Billy talked on his phone, so it was Good Park Reasons.

“You’re not...mad,” Steve asked, cautiously, and Billy laughed, squeezing him tighter.

“Nah,” he said. “You?”

“Naaaah,” Steve giggled back, drawing out the syllable.

There was a pattern to Billy being a slut, Steve noticed, because if it was Billy, it couldn’t be a bad word. They’d be out, and somebody would see Billy, or Billy’d see them, and Steve would see them staring at each other. “I’m going to go listen to storytime,” he’d announce, or “Look, there’s a play area here, I’m gonna go ride the bouncy horse.”

“Me too,” Billy said once, cheerfully, grinning at him, and Steve shook his head.

“They don’t allow grownups on the bouncy horse,” he said slowly, wishing he didn’t have to tell Billy sad things when he was grinning, but Billy just laughed, hugged Steve’s head—messing up his hair—and walked off.

When Steve had to start first grade, he clung to Billy the night before, and Billy carried him around for two hours, making him giggle as they made popcorn and watched cartoons on Netflix, and then pulled a big wrapped present out of nowhere. It was a new LEGO set, one Steve had never even heard of, a dragon that could transform into a pirate ship.

“Is it that weird?” Billy asked, grimacing at it, while Steve stared, and Steve threw his arms around Billy’s neck, shaking his head.

“I don’t want to go to school. I want to stay home with you,” Steve said into Billy’s shoulder, and sighed.

“Maybe I should put it away, then,” Billy said, raising his eyebrows. “I was saving it for when you had to go back to school, but if you don’t want it—”

“I want it!” Steve yelped, scrambling back out of Billy’s lap to huddle around it. “I want it, I want it!”

“Okay,” Billy told him, ruffling his hair. “We probably won’t finish it tonight, but once you make a ton of friends, I’ll need something super cool to get you to hang out with me, right?”

“No,” Steve told him, laughing. “You’re my best friend.”

Billy laughed, but he didn’t look convinced, so when he got the fruit snacks out after dinner, Steve gave him all the blue ones—they tasted best—and the trucks, which were biggest.

“Ah,” said Billy, biting his lips together. “They’re very...warm,” because they’d gotten a little sticky as Steve waited for him to finish the dishes, but he crouched and pulled Steve into a tight hug.

Steve fell asleep curled up against Billy’s shoulder, and woke up in his bed, with his mom shaking him awake.

“I told Billy we don’t need him during the school year,” she said, frowning at her phone. “During the day, anyway. He’ll still come by and feed you, and put you to bed.”

She wandered off, and Steve wondered, clutching his blankets, whether anyone would make him breakfast. He climbed out of his bed feeling kind of...bad, like he’d had a nightmare, and might cry. He sniffled, and rubbed his face, and stayed in his pajamas until after breakfast, trying not to think about his usual mornings, with Billy pretending he was an out-of-control backhoe and scooping him out of bed, or Billy humming at the stove as he made Steve eggs and toast.

Steve’s eyes leaked a little, and he stomped to the bathroom and blew his nose, feeling like a big baby for missing Billy so much. He got himself cereal, and remembered shopping for it—Billy’d slowly taken over all the things Steve’s mom and dad used to do, like buying him new school clothes, and taking him to the doctor—and Billy had let him pick out things his mom never would have, weird fruits they didn’t know how to eat, and once, because Steve had liked it, a set of footie pajamas with rainbows and unicorns that was definitely for girls.

He’d warned Steve, once they were back in the car, that sometimes people were mean to boys who wore unicorns, and Steve had held up his middle fingers, the way he was allowed to do when their downstairs neighbor called Billy mean names.

“You tell ‘em, tiger,” Billy had said, laughing.

The day school started, Steve hugged himself in the soft unicorn pajamas, and pulled the hood over his head. He tried to stop crying so he could go finish breakfast, but he kept thinking of awful things, like what if Billy didn’t come on weekends anymore, and it was just Steve all alone in the house, and what if nobody bought food at all, and what if Billy was taking care of some new kid he liked better. His mom found him bawling on the toilet, and groaned.

“You have to go to school even if you cry,” she said flatly, and Steve nodded, sniffling.

“C-can I call Billy,” he whispered, his voice sounding kind of funny, like he was sick.

She rolled her eyes, sighing, but handed him her phone, and he fiddled with it until she yanked it back, clicked around, and handed it back, ringing.

“Yes ma’am?” came Billy’s voice, and Steve stood up.

“BILLY!” he yelled, and Billy laughed.

“Hey, kiddo,” he said, “—did you need something? You know I’ll see you after school, right?”

“I miss you,” Steve told him, with another sniffle, and Billy started making all these shushing, calming noises, like the time Steve had fallen down the outside stairs of the apartment building, and Billy’d been more freaked out than Steve was.

Steve giggled, wetly. “Um,” he asked, clearing his throat, “—are—are you with a...different kid?”

“No!” Billy laughed. “No way, short stuff, I’m just at the laundromat, okay?”

“If you get a different kid,” Steve said, stubbornly, around the hard lump in his throat, “—they have to let you say no. They have to tell you you can say no, you have to—”

“I’m okay, Stevie,” Billy said, sounding a little teary himself. “I’m gonna see you today, and we’re both okay, okay? We’re gonna both be fine. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I wouldn’t be there this morning, I didn’t know either, okay?”

“...okay,” Steve mumbled, glaring up at his mom, who was inspecting the edges of her false nails.

“I’ll talk to you later, all right, my man?” Billy asked, and Steve nodded, swallowing.

“Later,” he managed.

“So dramatic,” his mom said, grabbing her phone back, and hanging up.

Steve waited for the school bus with four older kids who kept screaming and pretending to shove each other into traffic. He rubbed his nails up and down his backpack straps, making a wsht wsht wsht noise, and worried about Billy. It was hot already in the sun, and he squinted watching for the bus.

The teachers met them by the bus, and they did a roll call, different loud voices yelling out their names. Right after Steve’s name was called was Billy Hargrove, by the same teacher, and that was Billy’s name, his whole name that Steve’s parents used. Steve spun, huge-eyed, to see a kid run up, his age, but definitely Billy, and Steve threw both arms around him, trying not to cry.

“Is this okay?” Billy asked, stiff and nervous, and Steve squeezed him tighter, feeling how small he was, Steve’s size or even littler, but still with his pretty hair, and his earring.

“You two are friends, huh? That’s nice,” the teacher told them, smiling, and Steve nodded at her.

“He’s my Billy,” he said, unable to stop smiling, or let go of Billy. Billy looked kind of startled, and proud of himself, the way he did when he cooked something right the first time, or found the boy’s shoe section.

“Are you gonna come all the time?!” Steve whispered, and Billy shrugged, raising his eyebrows.

“Maaaaybe,” he whispered back, but he was smiling as huge and goofily as Steve, and Steve missed paying attention to half the first day of class, he was so excited. Once he got Billy alone, at recess, around the side of the gym, he hugged him again, and Billy laughed.

“Are you a genie,” Steve asked, half serious, and Billy stilled again.

“...what d’you mean,” he asked, cautiously, and Steve laughed.

“You keep giving me wishes,” he said. “You gave me a best friend. And I’m not lonesome at school. And the LEGO dragon,” he told Billy, holding both his hands. “That’s three wishes.”

Billy was watching him uncertainly, and Steve was happy, not mad, so he leaned in and kissed the end of Billy’s nose. Billy squirmed away, laughing.

“That’s not all, though,” Steve told him, grabbing his hands again. “You got me Honey Nut Cheerios yesterday. I know we were out of them, Billy. You got my mom the job she wanted...I think,” he said, because he’d had suspicions, but Billy grimaced guiltily, and then he was sure.

“I got a best friend out of it too,” he muttered, glaring at Steve. Steve grinned at him, and Billy sighed. “Don’t worry, you’re not gonna run out of wishes, I’m not the guy from Aladdin.”

“You’re a genie?” Steve whispered, bouncing a little on his toes, and leaning in too close, probably, his weight squishing Billy’s shoulder blades against the cement wall of the gym, but then he remembered that Billy was bad at saying no. He stepped back. “Um, do you—do you need help?”

“I’m okay,” Billy said, laughing again. As a kid, his cheeks were kind of pink and round, and Steve clenched his fists so he wouldn’t get grabby.

“Could—could people make you do things?” Steve asked, biting his lip.

“You could,” Billy said, smiling, and turning even pinker. “But you don’t.”

“I won’t,” Steve nodded. “Is there—is there something people could—could someone steal you,” he asked, his voice cracking as the horrible thought occurred to him, and Billy shook his head, laughing.

“It’s not exactly like that, there’s no lamp, or anything,” he said, glancing at Steve, and then frowning at the ground. “I-I’m not exactly a genie. I’m—I’m just yours, as long as you want me.”

“Oh,” Steve said, in a small voice, wondering how he’d gotten so lucky, and also feeling like this was an even bigger responsibility than a puppy. “Um.”

“Or you can send me away,” Billy said, smiling, a little. “If you get bored.”

“I wouldn’t ever,” Steve said, pulling him into a hug again, and sighing into his smaller, softer shoulder. “Um, unless—unless you want me to.”

Billy shook his head, hugging Steve back.

He knew even less about first grade than Steve did, which was kind of weird, but fun, because Steve got to show him how to sharpen pencils, and clean the whiteboard, and Billy listened to books like he had no idea what was gonna happen, even books Steve had heard over and over before.

“Your new friend’s kinda dumb,” Tommy Hagen said, glaring at Billy, and Steve scowled.

“He’s smart! And he’s pretty, and he’s nice,” Steve hissed, and stomped away, and Tommy knocked into him every chance he got after that, spilling Steve’s paint and his glitter and his cheerios, but the teacher was a fairy, and she waved everything tidy, hovering about three inches off the floor in annoyance.

“Read me the next one,” Billy whispered, when Steve went to find out what he was doing by the bookshelf.

“...you can read, though,” Steve said, and Billy nodded, sitting next to him, and leaning his head on Steve’s shoulder.

“I was up early,” he mumbled, and Steve put an arm around him, and read him the story.

He turned back into himself—the Billy Steve was used to—after school, and Steve watched him, fascinated.

“What do you really look like?” he asked, and Billy shot him a frown, clenching his hands around the steering wheel.

“Uh, what does that...mean,” he asked, and Steve watched him, wondering if Billy’s shoulders hunched up when he was nervous because that’s what humans did, and Billy was copying, or whether that was what genies did, too.

“I just wondered,” Steve said, shrugging, and he looked away, trying to look uninterested. “You don’t have to tell me. Uh, recess is uh, fun, huh? Um, I like the tire swing. We should, uh, we should...make a snack. At home. Later.”

Billy laughed. “You’re such a good kid,” he said, grinning over, and Steve’s whole face reddened.

He nearly swallowed his tongue. “I—I’m normal,” he said, and Billy reached over and ruffled his hair.

“I dunno, kiddo, you seem pretty great to me.” Steve groaned, hiding his bewildered grin in his arms, and Billy was quiet for a long second, before saying “...it’s not like here, where I’m from. I can’t...be like I am there.”

“Oh,” said Steve, nodding a lot, because he had no idea what that meant.

“This is how I look here,” Billy said, smiling over. “There’s no big secret.”

“Ohhhh,” Steve said, nodding again, kind of disappointed, but considering the genie from Aladdin—the only genie he knew of. “It’s probably easier, having feet,” he offered, and Billy snickered.

“Yeah, yeah, it is.”

The real thing Steve wanted to ask seemed kind of...big, bigger than whether Billy was secretly blue. “Um,” he said, frowning down at his hands.

“...what’s up, bud?” Billy asked, raising his eyebrows, and Steve made a face.

“Uh, where did you...go? When my mom said you had to leave. Do you…”

“I told you, I took everything to the laundromat,” Billy said quickly, and Steve shook his head.

“No, I mean...where do you...live,” he whispered. “I thought...I thought you lived at my house. You never left before.”

“I’m okay, I’m fine,” Billy said quickly, and Steve bit his lips together, kind of hating his mom. “I just, y’know. I don’t sleep, exactly, I found a cafe—”

“That won’t work,” Steve said, feeling the weight of Billy being his, and setting his jaw. “I’ll...I’ll tell her I need you to make breakfast. I’ll make a big mess of the kitchen—”

“Don’t worry about me, kiddo,” Billy said, laughing. “It’s not like she made me go home.”

“It’d be nice if you did have a lamp,” Steve sighed. “With little stuff in it, you know, like Polly Pocket. You could go in there when you wanted to.” Billy started laughing, cackling so hard he pulled over and folded his arms on the steering wheel, and when he looked over, finally, Steve stuck his tongue out. “It’s not that funny,” he huffed.

Billy beamed at him, and ruffled his hair again, roughly, like he was trying to mess Steve’s hair up, and wiped his eyes. “You know what I can do,” he said, softly, leaning close, and Steve leaned towards him. The vinyl of his seat creaked.

“Why are we whispering?” he asked.

“I can change size,” Billy told him, grinning. “You want to build me somewhere to live, Stevie? With your LEGOs?”

“Ohhhh,” Steve gasped, staring at him. “Let’s go home right now,” he whispered back. “Do—do you want a castle? Or a—a death star,” he whispered through his fingers, his voice squeaking. “A ship?!”

“We can look at all the options,” Billy said seriously, and Steve stomped his feet on the floor of the car like drum beats, he was so excited.

He had homework when they got home, writing about his summer, and he groaned.

“You can do that while I fix dinner,” Billy said, like it didn’t even matter that Billy could be the right size to open the doors in Steve’s LEGO haunted mansion. It was hard to focus on his math worksheet for that and a lot of other reasons, like Steve got addition, it made sense, he didn’t need to think to remember what 2+3 was, and also Billy was cooking, and that was hard to ignore.

He was making mashed potatoes, and Steve was girding himself to eat them, watching Billy frown around the kitchen and then shove the potatoes in the blender, click it to make it go, and listen to it struggle. Billy turned it off again and glanced worriedly back at Steve, who pretended to be working very hard on his worksheet.

The fridge door opened, and Steve tried to watch surreptitiously—and sure enough, Billy had figured out that the blender needed liquid, and he was pouring Steve’s dad’s kombucha-cola into the blender with the potatoes.

Steve tried not to grimace, but then Billy sniffed it, made a face, and pushed two pickles into the mess, and he couldn’t help asking “Um, what do you eat?”

“What,” Billy hissed, turning to hide the blender from Steve with his body. “I eat—food. You’ve seen me!”

“You, uh, I think maybe you didn’t used to,” said Steve, watching the greyish-greenish color the mashed potatoes were turning with fascination. “So, um…”

“I’m not hurting anybody,” Billy said, hunching his shoulders like Steve might think maybe he did, and Steve scoffed, turning to a worksheet page on using ‘a’ or ‘an’ in sentences, which was even worse.

“I know you aren’t,” he told Billy, rolling his eyes, and Billy laughed, relaxing a little. “What d’you eat, though?”

“...I don’t…” Billy trailed off, grimacing. “I don’t eat like you do.”

“Oh,” Steve nodded, watching his face hopefully, and then frowning at the worksheet. “Are you like a tree?”

“...sort...of,” Billy muttered, rubbing his face, and Steve realized Billy was turning red. “When I...make people...happy, it’s like...sun. For a...tree. In a...way.”

“You make me happy all the time,” Steve told him, and Billy made a face, turning redder, and Steve let himself look away from the worksheet, trying to remember whether ‘y’ was a vowel. He watched the wet, brownish-greeny-grey potatoes whirling soupily around in the blender. “I mean, except for sometimes when you won’t look up recipes online.”

“They’re impossible to fuck up,” Billy moaned, grabbing his phone, and frantically typing. “I can’t mess up mashed potatoes, Billy, nobody can mess up mashed potatoes—”

“Whoever said that didn’t know you’re not human,” Steve told him, “—because that’s, uh.”

Billy switched the blender off, sighing heavily as he stared at the slow bubbles rising through the muck. “...cereal?” he offered, defeatedly.

“Cereal is good,” Steve said, guessing that ‘an’ was correct and writing it in, and Billy groaned.

“How about I have Mr. Johnstone remember you when he’s taking his cookies out of the oven, and bring you some?” Billy asked, and Steve brightened.

“How come you can’t make me want to do my homework,” he huffed, and Billy paused, frowning over at him.

“Is that what you...want?” he asked.

“....no,” Steve said, because Billy’s eyes were smoking, a little, for the first time in months, and also it did sound kind of weird. “...have you...ever?”

“Ever what,” Billy said, staring at him, and starting to pour Steve’s milk on the counter, instead of into a bowl.

“Billy! Bowl!” Steve yelped, pointing, and Billy grabbed a bowl, fumbled it, and then dropped it, so it smashed all over the kitchen floor.

“Fuck,” he hissed, waving his hand, and the glass pieces all flew up to be a bowl again. Billy leaned back against the counter, his shoulders slumped, rubbing his face.

“...wow,” Steve whispered, because Billy rarely did anything obvious, it was always ‘Oh, no, Steve, you didn’t leave your new baseball cap at the zoo, I have it right here,’ or ‘Of course your dad will come out for dinner with you, kiddo,’ and then the wi-fi failed, and he did. “I just mean, um.”

“What,” Billy sighed.

“When I had the flu, did, uh, did you...make me sleep?” Steve asked, because he’d wondered about that one, waking up to his parent’s panicked faces in the hospital. “Until I felt better?”

“You told me to,” Billy said, watching his face. “You said.”

“...only if I asked,” Steve said, nodding slowly, and Billy nodded a couple times, faster.

“Only if you tell me to,” Billy nodded. “Mr. Johnstone always means to bring you cookies anyway, I’m just reminding him, is all—”

“How come you don’t use it to do the laundry, and...things,” Steve asked, since Billy was answering, and Billy laughed.

“I could,” he said, shrugging. “You need to know how to do it too, though, right? This way, we can do it together.”

“...did my mom…” Steve began, remembering the long-ago commercial, and making a face as he imagined Billy ordered to pour something over his own head. “...does my mom...have your...lamp? Is that...is that why you have to listen to me?” Billy opened his mouth, frowning, and Steve shook his head. “I-I know you said it’s not a lamp, but—”

“...I don’t have to do what your mom says,” Billy told him, cocking his head.

“...just me?” Steve asked, and Billy leaned back against the cupboards, crossing his arms.

“...yeeeah,” he said, warily, and Steve breathed a sigh of relief, nodding, and kicking his feet under his chair as he thought.

“Do…” he began, and trailed off, and Billy came over and sat down at the table, raising his eyebrows.

“Spit it out, kiddo.”

“...my magical people encyclopedia,” Steve started, then paused, trying to figure out how to continue. “...it, uh, it says to...it says not to..ask for things.”

“What did you want to ask for, Stevie?” Billy asked, with a long, contented sigh, folding his arms behind his head as he leaned back in his chair. He sat his feet on the chair next to Steve, grinning.

“No, no, I don’t—I don’t...want anything,” Steve said, and Billy sat his boots on the ground again.

“What’s wrong, buddy,” he asked, sitting up to reach across, and squeeze Steve’s hands. Billy’s hands were twice as big as Steve’s, and Steve always felt safe, when Billy held him, but he shut his eyes. “It—it says if you ask for things, there’s always a...price. It says—not money, but—it—it can go wrong, I might—forget someone, or they might...forget me, uh,” Steve paused, swallowing, as Billy’s hands on his went still. “Somebody wished for their dead son back, and he came back but he wasn’t alive, or...or she wished for treasure, but then she got arrested for stealing it…”

Billy smiled, a little, but not like anything was funny. “...oh,” he said, finally.

“It—the book said not to just...wish for things, if you didn’t know how you were...paying,” Steve mumbled.

“I’m not a monkey’s paw,” Billy growled, “—or a like, a fae lord, I’m not tricking you out of things you want, I’m not going to steal your memories, or your name, or anything—”

“Tommy doesn’t wanna be my friend anymore,” Steve said, his voice wobbling a little, because he hadn’t had a lot of people who really liked him, until Billy.

“Tommy’s a little shithead,” Billy muttered, but Steve talked over him.

“...if I have to...pay something to be friends with you,” Steve said, thinking about how his parents barely knew he was there, and whether they ever had, or whether he only remembered them that way, “—is—is that—”

“Shit, no,” Billy breathed, shoving away from the table and stomping over to lean against the sink again. “I didn’t—fuck, there’s nothing I can say, is there, I could have done anything, you can’t believe me—”

Steve blinked wide eyes at the words Billy was using, glancing up the hallway in case his mom or dad came around the corner. “Ssssh,” he whispered. “Sshh, I believe you! Don’t say the f-word, you’ll get in trouble!”

“Who cares, right,” Billy hissed. “I can just make them forget it, right?!” He looked really upset, Steve registered, kind of relieved, even though he’d known Billy was his friend, really. Billy looked like he might cry, and Steve got up from the table, and went over to hug him around the waist.

Even if Billy had taken his friendship with Tommy in trade for wishes, or something worse, Steve thought, it’d probably be worth it. “...I didn’t mean…” he sighed. “I know you wouldn’t...on purpose.”

“What’s that mean, on purpose,” Billy asked, disentangling himself from Steve’s hug, but just to pick him up. Steve hugged him again, around the neck, and messed Billy’s hair up the way Billy always did Steve’s. Billy laughed softly.

“...you’d make sure I wanted to pay for the wish. You wouldn’t do anything that made me sad on purpose,” Steve said, sighing. “I know you wouldn’t.”

“...sad, no,” Billy told him, squeezing him harder. “Mad, maybe. You aren’t paying for wishes, kiddo. If you want Honey Grahams because I’m a shitty cook and I ruined lunch, I’m not going to steal your memories.”

“You wouldn’t take away somebody liking me,” Steve whispered, and Billy rocked him a little, sighing.

“Nope.”

“Mom and Dad never liked me, it wasn’t you,” Steve mumbled, and Billy froze. “You didn’t take that.”

“Oh, jesus, kidlet,” he said softly. “Of course they...do,” he said unconvincingly.

“They don’t,” Steve sighed. “But you do.”

“Yeah,” Billy told him, swaying Steve a little, and rubbing his back. “You’re my favorite.”

“Favorite what?” Steve asked, giggling, and Billy hrrrm’d.

“Favorite everything,” he whispered, lifting Steve way high up so he could put his hands on the ceiling, and swinging him around while Steve laughed.

Next Chapter!

#Harringrove #Demon!Billy #Summoner!Steve #Friendship #Kidfic #Billy ends up babysitting basically #They're friends

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