#my path not taken my mirror image

[chikkenhawke]

more of andre, who has a nemesis now

[valtsv]

The Silt Verses, Season 2, Chapter 12, "So I'll Bear It Trembling Onwards" // The Silt Verses, Season 3, Chapter 4 "And Where Once Its Howling Forebears Walked"

[mimir-anoshe]

I love that ARCANE is using the MAJOR ARCANA for symbolism.

Chefs kiss.

These are Sevika's tarot cards from season 1.

The Magician (upright) overlapping Death (upright).

Foreshadowing? Oh hell yeah. But its only now after S2 Episode 6 do I understand what they might actually be foreshadowing. People may have talked about this before, so I apologise if this is similar to anyone else's meta. These are all my own thoughts, I usually just watch arcane and don't dabble into the meta but this season has me feral and I just rewatched season 1.

SPOILERS for Arcane S1/S2 below.

I just want to prologue this post with a note about how I've noticed even from season 1 there are thematic parallels and linear symbolism being afforded between Jinx and Viktor. Others in the community have too I'm sure. Its strange. I thought it was interesting in S1 but didn't deep dive into it, but S2 has driven headfirst into it and its making me go "oh... oh ok." Even Viktor in S1 noted Jinx's genius, and in another timeline perhaps Powder would've been a student of Viktors had fate not set them on parallel paths. Two children of Zaun, both mechanical/scientific geniuses. One physically disabled whilst the other mentally disabled. One who "escaped" and was given a chance, rising to the top only to create something that would be used for harm. Fighting that fate at every step. Whilst the other trapped at the bottom of the barrel, forced to use her gifts to become a weapon herself. Such GOOD story writing.

So now let's think about the art of the cards, because in tarot, even the symbolism of the specific art is important. Its why an artists interpretation of a major/minor can be so crucial to a reading.

Here's a figure map I made earlier.

Lets begin with Death.

Thirteenth of the Major Arcana, a "significant transformation and the end of a phase in life." There is death and rebirth symbolism all over arcane, but let's take a closer look at the symbolism mirroring the art.

Figure 7&8 - The one who has "died" a skeleton/skull laid down and being "imbued" with something as something else is taken away.

See that the imbuing focuses on the "chest" area.

It's quick, but it flashes briefly when Viktor is being imbued with the Hexcore. He canonically dies "the skull" and is reborn with the Hexcore on an "altar"/table.

Same with Jinx. Canonically "dies" and is reborn laying on an "altar"/table using shimmer. Purple being used as the visual thread between shimmer and the arcane of the hex; a colour imagery representation of "magical" alchemical/arcane power turning them into something beyond human.

Singed and Jayce. Two hands of death, giving and taking life as if they were a God. One using shimmer, the other Hextech thats imbued with shimmer. Messing with the balance of life and death.

With Viktor, the energy is transferred straight into his chest, just like on the card.

So now we've established the parallels to the death tarot, lets look at The Magician.

The First of the Major Arcana, "the connection between the physical and spiritual worlds, and the ability to manifest one's desires."

Viktor is the Magician. No doubt. He connects the physical and spiritual world of the arcane, he brings people back from the brink of death, as he was. He manifests his desires through the use of the hex, the arcane. And the dude just looks like a mecha wizard.

Though if you want it to be even more obvious.

Figure 3 - The Third Arm/Third Hand.

The image below is "The Machine Herald" Hero from League of Legends. This is the hero Viktor is based upon.

He canonically has three arms, same as the Magician in the card. The Magician is Viktor, Viktor is the Magician. The Magician is the Machine Herald.

The Magician overtakes/overlaps death. But Viktor by episode 6 still doesn't quite resemble the machine herald from the games. There's no third arm... Yet. So the Magician in the card isn't Viktor from episodes 1-6, this is the machine herald who comes after the one killed in episode 6. Another Rebirth is set to happen for Viktor.

Figures 1 &2 - White mask. Red/pinkish eyes.

Hmmm... Red/pinkish eyes are associated with shimmer. And a white mask, of the machine herald? The mask of a messiah. That the hextech Viktor will most likely also be imbued with shimmer like Jinx, to become the true "machine herald." Messiahs of the hex, monsters of the shimmer.

Its also worth noting that both Jinx and Viktor are framed as messianic figures of Zaun in this season. One the fighter who will rally together the undercity and free Zaun from its oppression. The other a healer and a saint like figure who will free the Zaunites of their suffering and lead them into a better future.

Jinx wanting peace - represented by Isha - and Viktor's dream of peace and healing for Zaun - represented by a lot of things including healing Vander - are metaphorically and literally killed in episode 6. Funnily enough, one symbol of peace killing the other (Isha and Vander - Child and Father). After all, peace and violence are two sides of the same coin, as are Viktor and Jinx. Or should I say, two sides of the same cog...

Figure 4&6 - The Cog shaped Hole in the Magicians chest/The Cog Coin and Jinx's cog.

"I understand now. The message hidden within the pattern. The reason for our failures in the commune. The doctor was right. Its inescapable. Humanity. Our very essence. Our emotions... Rage. Compassion. Hate. Two sides of the same coin. Inextricably bound."

In episode 6, whilst Viktor is explaining to Vi about what it will take to heal Vander, Jinx is sceptical. She doesn't even believe in herself as a messiah, so this "hero"? This "saviour" coming along to solve their problems? To fix things? When all she can do is break everything around her, jinx her own family, destroy? She's scoffing at Viktor sure, but she's also scoffing at herself. Mirroring. People treat her like they treat him, so to believe in him as a saviour means she would have to look into the water of that well and face her own reflection. And Viktor sees right through it, the pretence, and he sees her potential.

Knowledge is a paradox. Jinx wants to stick with what she knows, to destroy instead of to build, to "Watch it all burn." Or ignore the plight of Zaun, so she can live peacefully with Isha. Jinx - Powder - is choosing to remain ignorant to what's right in front of her. Right up until the moment Isha dies.

In the scene earlier in the episode, Jinx accidently destroys a bit of the well, releasing a cog that falls into water. Cogs have been symbolic of Viktor healing people throughout this season, using cogs to "Build."

Powder was thrown into water just like that cog by Silco, and reborn as Jinx. But its not Silco that picks up this cog. Its Viktor. He holds the potential of his creation in his hand, and in paradox, holds Jinx's destruction. Viktor holds Jinx's potential. He's literally holding the two sides of Jinx/Powder in his hand, her - their - fate. Just like Jinx, Viktor has the equal capacity to destroy, and if he is reborn as a weapon later on, perhaps that cog represents Jinx being reborn too. As a creator. A builder.

He holds onto Jinx's cog all the way through the rest of the episode, balancing that potential, that fate, of creation and destruction in his hand. Right up until the moment he dies, and the coin/the cog falls, sealing their fate. His death causing the deaths of Isha and Vander too.

So we've established that the story is viewing cogs/coins in a similar light. We've also established the show is linking Viktor and Jinx through the symbology of the cog.

This is reiterated in the symbolism surrounding the Tarot cards. Around the cards are coins that take the shape of cogs, the currency of Zaun. Fate - coin flips - and cogs, gods and machines. Deus Ex Machina, that is what Viktor is to become, and Jinx creates destruction using machines. She's an inventor, just like Viktor and Jayce. A creator and a destroyer. A god of the machine.

So how does Figure 6 - the coin cogs - relate to Figure 4? The hole in the Magician's chest.

On the Tarot Card, the Magician has a circle in the middle of his chest. A hole. Just like the hole Jayce puts through Viktors chest at the end of Episode 6. The one that kills him.

But if you look closely at the image above, it might be a stretch, but to me, the striations on the inner ring look very similar to those of a cog. The hole is what kills Viktor. Cogs have been given visual symbolism for healing, and are also associated with Jinx's potential for creation. Its a stretch, but it could potentially be foreshadowing Jinx using her abilities to heal Viktor; to build instead of destroy. We've already seen Jinx do it once with Sevika, by "building" her a new arm.

I also find it interesting that we're shown Jinx using her talents to build someone a new arm, and Viktor - the machine herald - still has yet to acquire his third arm. Perhaps he doesn't make it. Perhaps Jinx does?

Maybe, just maybe, Jinx - Powder - is the one to fix Viktor, and flip the cog of fate once again.

Now in Episode 6 we already get foreshadowing that it'll be singe - not Jinx - who saves Viktor by imbuing him with the ultimate shimmer from Warwick/Vander - stabilising him. He says it in the episode, but Viktor refuses to sacrifice Vander in the name of creating the ultimate weapon of destruction.

"It would destroy him."

Viktor's potential for destruction goes hand in hand with Jinx's.

Its even foreshadowed in both the cards. The red/pink eyes of the machine herald foreshadowing shimmer. And the shadow being imbued into the chest of the dead skeleton (Viktor) looks an awful lot like Warwick; the beast that traps Vander.

So why am I talking about Jinx saving Viktor if I'm so certain its Singe? Well I'm certain Singe will bring Viktor back to life, to be used as a weapon. That seems like the most likely outcome.

But like Viktor was saying about Vander "He's not a specimen, he's a man." Viktor was doing everything in his power to save Vander's humanity. So yes Singe will bring the machine herald back most likely - even if I think it'd be thematically cool for it to be Jinx - but I think Jinx will save Viktor. Save the man, the humanity. Be the big fat hero.

Jinx was a girl imbued with Shimmer, and despite having monstrous abilities and doing monstrous things, her humanity has still survived.

I could be wrong, I most likely am, but the the thing that's getting to me is this...

Figure 5 - The Broken Infinity.

At the centre of Viktor's chest, in the middle of Jayce's death blow and Jinx's cog of creation & destruction, is a symbol.

Now a diagonal infinity symbol is associated with the Firelights. Ekko. The boy who shattered time.

Broken Infinity? Shattered time? Seems to go hand in hand.

Though Ekko's symbol is a whole infinity, more akin to a Z than an ongoing X.

There are plenty of theories Ekko will play a role in Viktor's fate and the fate of everyone by rewinding time somehow. And the multiple shots of the coin rolling support that to an extend. Rewind time, change fate, change the flip of the cog. And I agree, I think Ekko is going to have a role to play. But there's also another character who fits with this symbol, who uses shimmer to move faster than humanly possible and defy fate time and time again. Who is the fulcrum of fate in the eyes of the story, the catalyst of everything. And only one character who has solely been associated with a broken infinity symbol before.

Jinx. That's Jinx's symbol. Her champion tag.

Jinx's symbol, right at the centre of Viktors chest. And this line to Jinx from Viktor...

"You have much to offer this commune, Powder. Your talents could be used to build instead of destroy."

And the line from Singe, about Viktor's fate being tied to the commune. Viktor IS the commune, he's the centre of it all. The one who can make the dream of Zaun - Vander's dream - a reality. And that line foreshadowed Jinx using her talents to help the commune. To help Viktor.

Hell, she was technically the reason he "died" in the first place. She fired the rocket that nearly killed him. Wouldn't it be poetic story telling if she was the one who saved him in the end?

I can't wait for Saturday.

I believe whatever happens, Viktor and Jinx's fates are inextricably bound.

[polarisbibliotheque]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A work of art, really.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, no, he didn’t…!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

**Eduardo e Monica, by Legião Urbana

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did you find something, love?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s a distraction.”

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

“Are you alright…?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Order of the Sword.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, so you have answers to this?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Excuse me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, aren’t you a charmer…”

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

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

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

“Did you summon your sword…?”

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

“Unless he wants it to. Or…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*Midsummer Night's Dream, Shakespeare

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

To call it divine was an insult.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*

You pulled V up the balustrade with all your strength.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*

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

And the sound of a closing door.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

To say Lady and Trish were staring was an understatement.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

You always look so peaceful when you meditate like that.

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

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

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

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

Why it felt so important.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

At least your humor was appreciated in the demonic realm.

*

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

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

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

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

And that was saying a lot.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So… How do I assist you?”

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

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

“And what do you want in return?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You will let me protect you.”

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

*Macbeth, by Shakespeare

*

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

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

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

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

However.

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

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

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

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

Who was his demonic half longing for unconsciously…?

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

He was.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I know, but when the time comes…

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

“Come, my King. It is time.”

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

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

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

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

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

To be loved and protected; to be saved.

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

When the time comes…

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

But… He didn’t know who you were.

You will let me protect you.

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

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

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

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

*

“I’m a ghost…!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And still.

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

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

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

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

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

“Close your eyes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What… Happened?!” Lady had to ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The figure smiled and made a dramatic bow at you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[lisacomeuseucu]

An Adventure from Another World | JJBA PART3 X FEM!READER

Prolonged

After a car accident, his body and consciousness are taken to the universe of his favorite anime, an event considered miraculous in the eyes of many.

The alarm sound starts ringing, the thin and frantic sound of a clock that comes automatically set on the device on the desk beside the bed. I try to force my heavy, sleepy eyes to open, but it’s a task quickly failed, so I stretch my hand like a snake and reach for my phone. "STOP" – the huge option appears on the screen. Even in my drowsiness, I manage to have a bit of awareness and click the option.

With supernatural force, I force my body to sit up on the bed, my feet feeling the completely cold floor. Time to get ready to catch the bus, I think, remembering the bus ride I have to take. "What a drag..." I whisper to myself. I get up toward the small bathroom in the room, turn the faucet to release the water, and splash it onto my puffy face. I quickly turn it off and open the compartment behind the mirror, grabbing my toothbrush and toothpaste. When I close it, I see my reflection. Dark circles around my eyes show the tiredness, the few white hairs from stress appear in my hair, even though I’m still too young to have them. Facing the sad reality of a humble, working-class person isn’t the best thing in the world. You know you deserve better than this.

I make circular motions all around my mouth, my teeth, gums, and tongue, spitting all the contents into the sink and quickly cleaning it as I rinse my mouth. After changing my clothes and putting on my shoes, my phone starts ringing again, alerting me that it's time to be at the bus stop. Damn! I need to be quick, I put my phone in my bag, sling it over my shoulder, and hurry out of the apartment. If the bus stop were closer, it would have made things so much easier! Even though it's early in the morning, the city is already filling up with people, which disrupts my path. Looking at my phone, I realize I'm extremely late. Oh no! No!! My eyes still fixed on my phone, I ignore everything around me, even the voices of people that seemed desperate. My body warms up, and my eyes begin to burn with a flash of light coming from my left side. The two shining orbs completely capture my attention, like a deer in the middle of the road, so bright and intense like the sound, getting closer and closer to me, which was strange. Wait... I'm crossing! My eyes widen like a doll's eyes, too late to do anything, the sensation of something hitting me in the waist and stomach strikes me hard.

Purple, pink, blue, green, yellow, white. These are all the colors that dominate my vision. Panic floods my body as I realize that instead of falling onto concrete ground, I am falling into a completely colorful and bizarre abyss, as if it were a galaxy full of shining stars. As I look at my body, I notice that strangely, I seem to be turning 2D? Lines from a drawing outline my body! A scream escapes my mouth as I desperately look at my hand, like in a cartoon, not children's drawings, but in the style of JoJo's Bizarre Adventure! When I look up, I get startled by the bright light in front of me. As my eyes adjust to the brightness, I start seeing things more clearly — a sink, that's what I'm looking at, and my hands are gripping it to maintain my balance. How strange... I think, furrowing my brow. I begin to look forward slowly, fear and hesitation accompanying me in this moment. When I gaze into the mirror, I see an image of myself, but not my normal image. It's a version of me from the JoJo universe, right in front of me. "YOU ARE BETTER THAN THIS" each word written across the mirror.

･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･

"Okay... I got run over by a car and for some miraculous reason, the gods decided to be nice to me and let me live in this damn anime. Ugh..." I say to myself, my hand runs across my face until it reaches my hair, squeezing and lightly pulling it. "The good part is that it's my favorite anime, the bad part is that it's JoJo! How am I supposed to participate if I don't have a Stand?! It would make more sense to let me die than to live as a background character." I stomp my foot on the ground like a spoiled child, until I notice a note lying on the floor. Curious, I pick up the paper to read its contents.

"Cigano Deck Card 36

THE CROSS

The card of The Cross symbolizes sacrifice and the struggle necessary to overcome difficulties. However, this card also carries a message of spiritual growth and redemption, showing that suffering can be a tool for achieving transformation."

So I have a Stand represented by the Cigano deck, and we're in the third part of JoJo, where Stands are tarot cards. A sly smile escapes in the middle of my thoughts, the idea of not being a background character making my whole body stir. "Well then, show yourself! I need to figure some things out about you!" I say aloud in an attempt to manifest it, a foolish action that incredibly works. Right in front of me, I see the figure of a large, muscular female body, a cross design covering her entire chest in a beige tone, while the body is covered with ancient runes in golden color. Pieces of fabric that cover parts of her body are dark, contrasting with the light beige and golden colors of my Stand. Her eyes are human-like, and her hair is loose, floating in the wind. If you look closely, there's a faint light around her that makes her look majestic.

"Shit, now the snake's gonna smoke."

[lu-is-not-ok]

I rember my friend group once discussed if the wound cleirid event/abno fits Hong Lu

What's your opinion on this?

Hm... Let me see.

The main theme I can see in the abno is fear, sorrow, and the images the mind conjures because of them. Notably, the way the coffin turns out to be empty if the check to open it succeeds, but full of wailing people if it fails. The text in the successful check mentions feeling sympathy for whoever might be trapped and how each undone knot accompanies some sort of negative emotion, none of which happens upon failure.

This similar theme can also be seen in the removed third option for the event, where on failure the arm that grabs the Sinner and the undone knot both disappear "like mirages".

Another theme is entrapment and abandonment. There's a lot of focus put on the fact that the reason the coffin is bound up is to keep whatever is inside from escaping, and that whatever is inside is "trapped". The successful skill check text also puts an emphasis on the being inside, the one that persumably is the owner of the arms, pleading to not be left behind, yet also being thankful for being left alone.

There is also the whole thing with there being multiple people trapped inside the coffin, and how it grabbing someone upon failing the check to leave it be appears to steal their voice, with the victim being described as "speechless" and what happens being that "A familiar note is added to the coffin's wailing". In a similar vein, succeeding at undoing the knot causes the one doing so to weep alongside the wailing. A theme of one's voice joining the multitude, whether by choice or by force.

So....

There's definitely some things you could connect to Hong Lu here. The themes of entrapment, the confusion between what is real and what isn't, even the idea of many being trapped in one coffin could be connected to two in one if you fancy the theory. The bit with the arms pleading to not be left behind but at the same time being thankful for it especially resonated with him I think, the way he appears to want to reach out for help by alluding to his horrible homelife, but also constantly deflecting any attempts by others to dig deeper. Plus, there's also the jewel motif with the beetle found inside the coffin.

That being said....

I honestly feel like Wailing Coffin might be an Abno that represents the Sinners as a whole. The arms reaching out of the coffin are very reminiscent of the arms that reach out from the gates of hell when we see Dante revive Sinners for the first time proper in Canto 1. The way one's voice is taken in by the wailing could represent the way Dante's voice was not only literally taken, but also the way their ticking guides the Sinners down the right path, out of their suffering. The only way the wailings within the coffin are freed is through feeling their suffering, again, very reminiscent of Dante's role with regards to the Sinners.

There's always a level of vagueness when it comes to Abnormalities that only have a Mirror Dungeon event, but I think that's my final take on it all until we learn more.

[phonkscribes]

Anonymous has sent a letter:

(I'm SO nervous writing this request, because English is not my native language and I'm writing through a translator, and this is my first request. If I wrote something wrong, explained it poorly, I apologize in advance and ask you to just ignore it, I'm just really stupid) Recently, my friend and I were playing "What if" and came up with "What if Virgil had TWO kids" and this thought literally stuck with me. Extra points if the reader looks eerily like Virgil. What about the headcanons with dmc boys (Vergil, Dante, V and Nero?) about this, like, Dante just walks into the office holding the reader(gn) by the scruff of the neck and he doesn't even have to say anything, it's literally a clone of his brother.

THIS WAS SO CUTE, how could I not write this? And please, you're fine!! I think I'll turn this into a little mini series or a one-shot later, but no promises! The first draft was certainly setting it up to be that though.

Vergil

There was no other woman that he 'coupled' with. The lady in red, back in Fortuna was the only lover he had ever taken on, and to his knowledge Nero was his only child having been born from that love. To see you standing before him now... you, who looks so much like how he did way back then... it unnerves him. It's the first instance where he's ever been so deeply unnerved in a long while. A clone, you had to be a clone. It wouldn't be the first time that Mundus has done something like this. The next time he goes to hell, he'd be sure to kill him once and for all. He wasn't ever content on letting the Prince of Darkness continue living after all that he has put him and his family through.

He thinks you're a spy, that your purpose here is malicious. But how can that be when you look so captivated by him? As if glimpsing into a mirror and seeing an aged reflection. This all must be so strange to you too, when nothing is so certain in your life. Fine. He can accept this. He can will himself too, because now he has a chance to correct your path before you're made to walk his again. He wouldn't want that for you, especially when he can be present for you where he failed to be present for Nero.

This too, pains him, and he knows that it will be awkward for all of you. Regardless, he has to face it, even if he doesn't know how. Seeing him instills a great dread within you; the power, the expectations, all of it feels overwhelming. How are you going to live up to that? Whenever you stand in his presence, you try to make yourself appear larger, more mature than your years let on. Your demonic nature imposes this upon you, much to his chagrin. It gnaws upon him, because, he was like this too.

He wanted to prove himself to his mother that he could be strong, that he could be mature. When he looks at you, he often finds himself ruminating about those times. You can feel it, and the sadness worries you. Why does he look at you like that? It almost feels like he doesn't accept you. You don't want that, so you try your hardest to be the epitome of what your creator spoke of him. That image has long been burned into your mind since then, and now it is all you strive for.

When you raise your training sword to him, he comes. When you trade blows, he is there, and when he feels your might against his... finally does he allow himself to smile. You're so much like him. Like the child that was lost on that very day. It's without a doubt now, cemented into his soul, regardless of what or who you are... you're his child. If anything tried to take you away from him, he would kill them.

V

He's seen you before, only, you weren't you then. After mingling his vines with Urizen, he had glimpsed the other you then. Or rather, Vergil. When he was blemished by tragedy, renewed by rejoining with the better half of himself-- that was the last he saw of... you. But now, he was back, and here he was... eye to eye with the child of that demon again. You're just as you were when he had first glimpsed that memory, still small with wide eyes boring into his own. You didn't get on too well with any of the others aside from Trish, and similarly he had expected to be met with some resistance from you too. But that never came.

Instead, you shuffled forward, with your arms outstretched to find purchase on one of his legs. A hug. You were hugging him... were Griffon to see it, he'd be laughing. He missed them, strangely, even if they were only ever nightmares. Here, he had a waking dream. His last encounter with a child hadn't gone too well, funny enough. From what he could recall, he'd berated the poor thing, for crying out as he did. As if he hadn't done the same thing when it had been him there, outside of the house as it all burned down. He rests a thin hand on your head as you hug him.

He doesn't know how to be comforting, only how to seek it out in others. But you make him want to change, to be different. Eventually he kneels to be at your level, hugging you properly as your arms snare around his shoulders. You were fond of Trish for obvious reasons, but V had a certain softness about him to you. Almost as if he was your mom, your real mom. Of course, you didn't have one, and it didn't matter to you at the time... but the thought of leaving his side hurts. If you're to go anywhere, you wanted him to follow.

You would drag him by the hand if you had to, and V was like to let the current take him. A part of him found it entertaining, and that maybe that was all you were to him. He would entertain you until you weren't amusing anymore. That's what he planned on doing, but watching you get sad at his silhouette burned him. It was such an unfamiliar thing that he paused to look back. Why did you look so sad? He was only temporary, fated to leave this world again whenever time had deemed it necessary.

You were infinitely stronger than he was, and you had everyone else too to guard and guide you. What made him so special? What made him so unique aside from his weakness? So determined to figure it out, he had remained, seated as you climbed into his lap and pulled at the rings and jewelry on his fingers. Simple. You thought of him as parent, as a guardian already. Even with all your strength and might yet to be had, you wouldn't ever stop needing that. You wouldn't ever stop needing him now that you had him in your life.

"I'll protect you too", you had told him. "You'll be safe with me", such a little voice sounding so sure... for the first time, would he mourn himself when he'd be lost. He wondered how long it would take for you to figure that out.

Nero

How the hell is he supposed to feel about you? You were a tiny version of the father he just found out he had. "Why wasn't I, or my mother enough...", he starts to think to himself, but those thoughts are squashed when he's informed that you weren't born from another affair or something like that.

Upon approaching you for the first time, he was hesitant, but he was your brother, as Kyrie had insisted that he at least give you a chance. The devil in you thought of him as a lesser because of how little his blood resembled yours or even your father's. On all accounts, you were going to brush him off, to ignore him if it weren't the sliver of Sparda coursing through his veins. If it weren't for that you wouldn't even consider him a worthy rival, but even with just a quarter of his power, he was remarkably strong.

Your uncle had told you that much, recounting their fight. Naturally, you had to test yourself against him, as much as Nero found it irksome. He'd be working on Red Queen, running maintenance on his sword when he'd feel a sharp strike to the back of one of his knees. It was a struggle trying to look after the three orphans with Kyrie already, but now he had to deal with you and your demonic antics. Great. If it's a fight you wanted, it would be a fight you'd get. But even as prideful as you were, you were a kid-- his little sibling. Despite himself, he held back, knowing that if he really went all out you'd get seriously hurt.

Yet, in not going all out, he made you cry regardless: all because he wasn't taking you seriously. You didn't need to be pitied, especially if you wanted to grow as a devil and get stronger for your family's sake. If you couldn't beat Nero, then what hopes did you have in defeating a threat that could wipe out your family? He could relate, having the same thoughts when his dad ripped his arm off, worried for Kyrie's sake and the kids. Through your little tantrums, he'd kneel to be at your eye level before patting you on the head.

"You put up a good effort at least, that's somethin' to be proud of", he'd say, which wasn't entirely false.

Still, even after you calmed down some, you wouldn't easily forgive his slights. Luckily, Kyrie could with her cooking. Nero couldn't help but feel a little envious of his girlfriend for being able to pacify you where he couldn't. Even when you seemed to dislike humans, as you've made it abundantly clear to him with each bout(much to Lady's disdain.) But as time goes on, he's slowly beginning to accept you as family. Sure, you're still irritating to him at times, but it's nothing a little bit of air jail can't fix, a trick he learned with Julio when he'd have his fits here and there.

As humiliating as it is, it does work. Instead of being treated as a demon spawn, him and his partner treat you as if you're one of their human children. The lack of violence and discipline worries you on account of not wanting to go soft while you're in the human world. On the other hand, it is comforting. To know that you are loved and safe with them puts a weird weight on your chest, and at times you look back on how you treated Nero in the past. When you try to do something nice for him, you go to Kyrie for help, since you're sure that he'd freak out if you brought him a dead demon or some other game(unlike Nico.) When he notices, you have to withhold from delivering a punch to his gut when he starts to dote on you.

Dante

Trish had found you, thinking it would be best if he would be the one to deal with you. At least while Vergil and Nero were both busy, and when she needed a break after he had declined doing so the first time around. It was harrowing to say the least, when you had appeared in his office, looking like the spitting image of the brother he had lost all those years ago. How did he do it this time? He had thought glumly, as he tried to swallow down the bile rising in his throat. Down to the last detail, it was like Vergil had been ripped straight out of his memories. That sick bastard Mundus, why couldn't he go bother another family? Quite frankly, he was tired of having to deal with that guy and his shenanigans. Maybe the ass beating on Mallet Island wasn't enough...

You could not help but to look up at him with due apprehension. This was Dante after all, successor to Sparda, and the one you were supposed to be keeping tabs on as per your orders. One part of you doesn't want anything to do with him, and another doesn't want to be too far away from him either. Even with the possibility that you could be a threat, Dante knows that he can't bring himself to strike you down. It's low brow, and it pisses him off even more that Mundus would think to do something like this. Gilver was enough of a scare, but here you are. He wishes you'd go away, he doesn't have to say it out loud for you to get the idea.

"You aren't going to fight me?", you had asked innocently, holding a little sword at your side. Oh... how it made his stomach churn. It's a feeling he's not acquainted to. Was it guilt? Grief? It was definitely agonizing...

"No, kid. I'm not gonna fight ya", he answered with a grin as he laid his heavy hand on your head. He ruffles your hair, pushing through the nausea as he chuckles dryly. Who could blame him? Another copy of his brother sent to mess with him after all this time, without knowing what you're here for or what you're capable of he can't help but to stay on edge.

That's why he has Trish take care of you, because you seem to like her as much as Vergil did back then. You aren't acting like a little terror, not that you'd dare to, so what? What's going to happen next, what comes next? When your purpose rears its ugly head, he knows it's going to have to be him to put a stop to you. Whether he likes it or not, whether he wants to or not. Lady can tell that it eats at him the more you try to get closer to him. You follow him around sometimes, wanting to spar or to play. It's what he would've wanted Vergil to ask him to do as kids, he should be happy that he gets to finally play with him now but you're not him.

He snaps one evening, telling you to go, to leave him alone before things get ugly. Lady interjects, that he was out of line, and Trish is there to hold you when you finally stop chasing after him. When the tears fall and you turn to her, he realizes that he shouldn't have done that. He didn't mean to, but if he isn't ready to go to you to comfort you right now. He'll make it up to you, but for the time being, it's best if you just stay with the girls.

BONUS

Sparda

How dare he, to create a crude re-imagining of his beloved child that he had then tortured for YEARS. Why, if he had the power to fly back down and to wring his neck himself... but alas, that wasn't possible anymore. It was oddly paralyzing having to look up at your creator's arch nemesis. His warden, essentially. You expected to be met with the end of his blade, to be demolished and scattered on the wind, but instead he crouched down to your level and searched your eyes. You were a devil, but even if you were possessed with the intent of causing harm upon him or anyone here, you would not be strong enough to do it. The legendary dark knight of eld chuckled softly before he reached up to pat your head and declare to the others that there was no need for concern. You, ever the devil, tried to correct his folly.

Not wanting to be undermined, you went to strike Sparda, he commended you on your audacious spirit(as misguided as it was.) The old man evaded your attack, and then evaded your follow up, only to adjust your arm. Your form was lacking, and it was simply adorable watching the way you seemed to get even more cross with him when you realized he didn't even see you as a threat. It was just as it was when you were in Hell. Mundus' remaining forces saw you as little more than disposable fodder, that you resembled Sparda's kin put you at a disadvantage already. Eventually you gave up trying to fight him directly, opting to catch him off guard in some other way.

The traps you set up kept him on his toes, and he feigned to get trapped in one just once to humor you. When he fell to the floor, playing dead, you ran over with the cutest smile on your face. Absolutely beaming before he caught you in a hug, laughing as he began to tickle your sides. Never having been tickled before, you assumed you were being subjected to a human torture method, and began screaming hysterically. After the first few screams left your lips, and attracted the attention of both Vergil and Dante running to the scene of the crime, they couldn't help but to sigh with relief when they saw it was just their dad and you goofing around.

"I thought you were being attacked for a moment... what is the meaning of this?", Vergil demanded.

"Good grief pops... had us going there for a second", Dante sighed as he watched Sparda lifting you into the air.

"Ohh I couldn't help it, I didn't mean to worry you boys!", he replied gleefully as he spun you around before settling you back on your feet.

You could not look anymore pissed off. The sight of your pout made Dante laugh before you went to go hide behind his brother's coat. If mom were here, no doubt you'd be telling on him to her. After a moment, Sparda's bending down to try and talk to you behind Vergil's back.

"I apologize, my dear... I didn't mean to upset you! But did you really think that that would do me in?", he can't help but to tease you.

"You'll rue this day, Sparda. I swear it!", you glowered as you turned your head away from him. It pulls a guffaw from him before he rises.

"Aww, don't be that way! What if I got you some ice cream? Have you had ice cream before?"

"If you're treating the kid, I want a strawberry sundae", Dante chimed in.

"... and I want chocolate", Vergil adds.

[mpbbcfan]

Unleash Your Unbreakable Masculinity: The Choice That Defines You as a Man of High Caliber

Picture the impact. Visualize the strength you'll radiate. By choosing this path, by seizing control of your image with a bold decision, you're not just accepting a reality—you're sculpting it to your will! You're defining a masculinity that goes far beyond genetics, a virility forged in authenticity and confidence.

Imagine the commanding presence you'll project. There will be no doubts, no insecurities hidden beneath vain attempts. You'll present yourself to the world with a raw honesty, a transparency that communicates unwavering self-assurance. This is the mark of a man who isn't afraid to show himself as he is, a man who respects himself and, therefore, earns the respect of others.

This choice is an act of pure empowerment. You're taking control, defying norms, and redefining what it means to be a man on your own terms. You're not conforming—you're ascending! You're choosing an image that screams determination, character, and a robust masculinity that needs no embellishment.

Visualize the virile elegance that will emanate from you. It's not a superficial elegance, but one that stems from self-confidence. It's the distinction of a man who knows who he is and isn't afraid to show it to the world. This choice will turn you into a beacon of confidence, drawing gazes of admiration and respect.

Feel the power in your hands as you make this decision! You're unleashing a more authentic and powerful version of yourself. You're showing the world a man who doesn't hide, who doesn't hesitate, who presents himself with undeniable virility.

This isn't just a choice about your appearance—it's a statement about your character! It's saying, "I am a man who makes decisions, who dares to be different, and my masculinity resides in my authenticity and my confidence."

So, take the step with conviction. Embrace this bold choice and watch how your presence transforms. You'll see in the mirror not a limitation, but the powerful image of a man who has taken control of his own masculinity, a virile, elegant, and deeply respected man. This is your moment to shine with an unbreakable strength!

[tragicallyuncreative]

Johnny looked at me quickly. "I didn't mean nothing. I meant, well, Soda kinda looks like your mother did, but he acts just exactly like your father. And Darry is the spittin' image of your father, but he ain't wild and laughing all the time like he was. He acts like your mother. And you don't act like either one." -The Outsiders, Chapter 5

~

It’s funny, because Darry emulates his late father in so many ways (not just in looks and a shared name), despite trying his best to create his own path and not live that lifestyle. Don’t get him wrong, his father was his hero and he admired him beyond words, but didn’t want to struggle the same way his father did. He didn’t want to be stuck in a town he hated, break his back in construction all day for 20+ years, only to barely keep his family afloat and above the poverty line, and to have people look down on him despite trying his best. He wanted to be more, to get a degree, a high-paying job, be able to live comfortably, and yet here he is, stuck working for the exact same construction company his father did his whole adult life to keep a roof over the boys’ heads, always worrying that it’ll never be enough, secretly ashamed of his social status.

Soda, on the other hand, mirrors his father not in looks, but in personality and strives to live just as he did. He recognized from a young age that, like his father, his brain didn’t work the way his brothers did. Nothing came easy to him academically, but he doesn’t see why that should hold him back. After all, his father dropped out in 6th grade, and led a life that Soda views as nothing but successful: a steady job he enjoyed, a beautiful family that despite not having the latest car or fanciest home, was full of love, and a carefree attitude that kept him young at heart. What Darrel Jr. saw as a hard, sad, dead-end life, Soda sees as everything he could hope for. So while his brothers mourn what they view as the only way for Soda to lead a successful life (education), Soda embraces the opportunity to do something he truly loves, work he takes pride in, despite others not understanding. Why should he spend time trying to be good at something he’s not? He can earn money and contribute to his community and build up his trade career. He’s happier at the DX than he ever would be in school, just like Darrel Sr. was working in the cornfields of his adopted parent’s farm all those years ago in that little one-road town in Texas that was ravaged by the Great Depression. And when the Vietnam War breaks out, Soda jumps at the opportunity to again mirror his father in what he sees as the bravest and most noble thing a man can do: serve his country. His brothers and friends beg him not to enlist but he does, full of pride as his hair is buzzed and dog tags are placed around his neck, joining his late father’s, the ones he hasn’t taken off since the day of his funeral. On the first day of boot camp, he stands straight-backed and determined, ready to serve, to defeat the enemy, just like Darrel Sr. defeated the Nazis in 1945.

~

Hi! I have so many headcannons for The Outsiders universe rattling around in my brain, and I can't always share them fully in my stories, so I figured it's about time I started to share them here. Stay tuned for the backstory of The Curtis Parents, Darry and Two-Bit's friendship, and The Mathews Family. Enjoy!

[sunderingstars]

☆━━━━━ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ ◯ ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆ ━━━━━━☆

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ SIMULATED UNIVERSE ⌝

sampo analysis m.list

— what the stars reveal: interpretative analysis, elation!sampo & doll!sampo, theory, op trying so deeply & calmly to keep it together and not look like a conspiracy theorist

— word count: 3.9k

— overview: (as of 2.6) a look at the aha stuffed toy, curio hacker, and the *perfect* grand challenge simulated universe occurrences!

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✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ AHA STUFFED TOY ⌝

This one’s a doozy, folks! As much as Curio Hacker gets passed around as a pretty obvious Sampo Occurence™ (which it is, don’t get me wrong), I feel like Aha Stuffed Toy includes just as, if not more, lore implications as to who and what Sampo might be. So, here I am to give the breakdown:

Recurring references to currency, including gaining, losing, and most notably, dispensing it. Starting with the base occurrence, we can see that the toy is said to reward you more gold coins the “worse the beating is.” This is further shown by the tiers of Cosmic Fragments awarded to the player depending on what option they choose and what percent they happen to get. Part luck, part choice, Aha Stuffed Toy makes a clear connection between violence and money.

As for Sampo, he is the character most associated with both Elation and the transactional nature of currency, so I find this an interesting connection. Additionally, the Sampo of Finnish mythology was known for “dispensing” wealth (in this case, gold & Cosmic Fragments) onto others!

Being made in Aha’s own likeness. As detailed in my Aha Splash Art Analysis, I find similarities between Sampo’s character model and the silhouette in Aha’s splash art. While I used to attribute this to a more directly Aha!Sampo theory, I am beginning to think this may be explained by the occurrence here. If Sampo, as a toy or otherwise “creation” of Elation, were to have similar features or even be the spitting image of Aha’s silhouette, any connections between their appearances would add up.

It would also make sense why Sampo gives the Express itself a wide berth — Pom-Pom may be familiar with Aha’s physical form from Their time on the Express, and may even be reluctant to believe Sampo is a different being despite sharing the same physical appearance.

Elation path option. Heading into Swarm Disaster, this is where things really start to heat up. This is probably the most “crazy red string theory” my brain gets, since there’s so much to unpack here! It’s important to note that since this is an Elation path matching an Elation occurrence, I’m more inclined to view this as our best source of understanding what’s truly going on. Starting with the options themselves, they are split cleanly in half (a 50/50 if you will). Similar to the base occurrence, Cosmic Fragments are either gained or lost depending on chance.

The text when Cosmic Fragments are lost is, well, very Sampo-aligned in my opinion. The doll, breaking the 4th wall into self-awareness, turns to look directly at you (the Trailblazer; potentially even the player of the game) and brazenly steals your currency. Moreover, the text before making the decision mentions that “only Aha knows the secret…” — Huh! Interesting! Although I am very worried about the doll’s head blowing up in the second option, it still serves as a link to Sampo’s penchant for including bombs in his kit. Overall, this is the part of the occurence I associate most with Sampo, from the stealing of currency to the self-awareness to the hint that his identity may be some secret that only Aha knows or is able to reveal. 10/10, no complaints!

Erudition path option. Erudition is also interesting, since it gives you the option to dismantle the toy, immediately giving you Cosmic Fragments. This mirrors (in a general sense, with some liberties taken) the destruction of the Sampo in Finnish mythology, as well as connects once again to the idea of being bestowed wealth. 

Venting of extreme emotions. As with the “made in Aha’s own likeness” line, I find it interesting that the doll is not only specified to have a direct purpose, but that that purpose is to… well, basically be a glorified punching bag. In an occurrence, this isn’t a huge deal, given the player probably has a passing thought of “oh, Aha’s being silly again” then continues on their way. However, if we think about the probability of these toys being real and potentially a character we know, things get trickier. Suddenly, this isn’t a fun “joke” where some pre-recorded inanimate toy acts as a stress ball, but the horrifying reality of a self-aware, sentient being who can likely feel every hit it takes — a joke taken too far, if you will.

This makes me feel much more out-of-my-depth when considering Sampo’s unknown backstory, since it may be much more traumatic than we’ve predicted so far. Also, if anyone in this game comes across as a “glorified punching bag,” I’m sorry Sampo, but my mind is immediately going to you. I’m still sad about it, though. :(

The goading. Similar to the venting of extreme emotions, this occurrence very much goads the player into getting more and more violent with the doll. “One more? There is so much frustration in your life, after all” makes me feel so yucky. Like so yucky. It almost feels like Aha (despite not being involved in the quality control process) is absentmindedly trying to push us directly towards messing this poor doll up more!

It makes sense, though, that most of our in-game dialogue with Sampo is mean or simply doesn’t have a “nice” option then — it may be Aha’s way or a result of Sampo’s own existence pushing us into that “frustration,” into that want to vent our extreme emotions.

The embedded chip. In addition to being a quite common mantra among Elation entities, the chip sticks out to me through its unique use of blended third-person references. It doesn’t feel exactly the same as when Aha refers to Themself directly in third person, but it does have that slippery feeling of the “in-between,” of a doll so at a loss for autonomy that it has no choice but to play the pre-recorded message of an entity it is bound to through no will of its own.

In a way, Aha!Sampo could still work with Doll!Sampo, albeit in a more roundabout way. Perhaps, beyond sharing physical similarities, there is also a kind of mental or referential similarity passed down through osmosis whenever a doll is created in the likeness of its creator. Perhaps, this likeness even transcends appearance.

Integer overflow. Nothing specific to say, other than that it is a useful connection to the more tech-minded “Curio Hacker” occurrence, with Aha Stuffed Toy mentioning “manufacturers” / “systems to store virtual data” and Curio Hacker mentioning virtual avatars and data forms.

Bonus: Sampo’s head-to-body ratio (despite being like every other tall male character’s body, yes, please just let me be crazy) matches with the idea of a doll whose body is several times larger than it’s head — I mean look at that man, he’s beefy and tall!

Bonus-Bonus: The voyeurism of it all definitely makes the situation more fucked up! Like imagine being this doll, already born into an existence purely for the sake of getting pummeled around like a kickball, and your creator makes it abundantly clear that They want to see this happen to you! With their own two (or many, or zero) eyeballs! I’d cry, that’s for sure.

Overall, this is a lot. This is definitely a lot. I have more I could say, but to mitigate the risk of devolving into crazed rambling, I’m going to let this section speak for itself and move on to “Curio Hacker.”

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ CURIO HACKER ⌝

Divergent Universe Additions:

A lot has already been said about this occurrence, so I’ll keep it short and sweet: the “blue-haired being” is a direct connection to Sampo (who is often referred to by his blue hair in a similar way) and the self-aware nature of its actions (knowing it’s in a game and trying to replicate Curios) also matches with Sampo’s general self-awareness as a character. Now, with that out of the way, I’d like to continue into a more niche discussion — that of the Curios the hacker gives us.

Organic Heart

Story: What sticks out to me the most about the text here is the merging of two distinct objects — an apple and a heart — into a single, new existence. I think there’s something to be said here about Sampo’s potential identity; his merging of Nihility and Elation, Masked Fool and voice of reason, mortal and immortal. The combination of two separate entities into one until they are unable to be distinguished from one another, folding into each other until they are both a sum and a subtraction of all their parts, hopelessly melded into a new, unique form of existence, not a heart or an apple but a heart-apple, an apple-heart, the fruit of an organ and blood mixed with seeds mixed with juice, the crunching of something not entirely edible, not entirely rotten. Something that, according to the story, still can’t be fully defined.

Gold and Gears: In Gold and Gears, the function of Organic Heart is to remove the golden dice face for four turns, then grant two cheat attempts. This matches up with both the implications of a “hacker” — someone who cheats the system by default — and Sampo’s generally shady demeanor, always trying to find a loophole he can squeeze through. The interesting part of this is the presence of the golden dice face, particularly the removal or hiding of it for a specific period of time.

If we are continuing based off the assumption that Sampo is the hacker and the Curios give hints about his own identity, this would mean he isn’t just powerful, he is ultimately powerful. The golden face is the absolute highest the dice can go, meaning the equivalent in-universe is likely Emanator or even Aeonic status. As such, it seems that Sampo may be sacrificing, removing, or hiding this power intentionally to gain something — likely a sort of universe-breaking “cheat” to circumvent whatever he wishes.

For Doll!Sampo, this may mean escaping his own purpose or reason for existence, Emanator!Sampo may wish to be free of Elation entirely, and it is likely his wishes have something either to do with protecting Belobog, protecting himself, or, if he is very pissed off at a certain Aeon, perhaps even the murder of a god.

Divergent Universe: Organic Heart’s Divergent Universe function also adds a bit of information to this theorizing, as it increases the challenge points gained (thereby increasing the rewards and how much you “win”) while causing you to take more damage at the same time. This seems to have similar implications as Gold and Gears, implying a “reward” and a “cost” closely dependent on one another. You may be receiving more “power” and more rewards, but you are also at higher risk of dying due to taking more damage.

For Sampo, this ties in to the aspect of weakness, of trading his power for some kind of “win” if he can just survive long enough to get there. Furthermore, it implies a state of vulnerability, some kind of existence where he no longer has the full protection he used to. Much like the player who takes the Curio, he likely has to be very careful about what he involves himself in, lest he meet a premature end.

Mysterious Magnetism

Story: Interestingly enough, I find Mysterious Magnetism to go quite well with Organic Heart. There is yet again a theme of combination, this time with the Fog of Thought and Rain of Sensation (perhaps alluding to the creation of Sampo as a sentient being — thought and sensation are unique to those who are aware of their own existence) being pulled together into a lens. While Organic Heart represents the more, well, organic side of a being, Mysterious Magnetism dwells in the imperceptible; thoughts, sensation, color, and magnetism are all far more conceptual than apples and hearts. 

The “magnetic field” mentioned is also interesting, since it is said to “disturb the senses,” which Sampo very much does on a regular basis (appearing and disappearing out of thin air, not leaving footprints, misdirection, etc.) — in fact, Mysterious Magnetism seems to imply that this is a byproduct of his existence. Despite being created by the Riddlers (a faction of the Enigmata known for obscuring language), the resulting experiment simply is. This may be similar to Sampo’s own existence, where his, well, mysterious magnetism, is simply part of who he is or how he was created rather than a conscious effort on his part to achieve it. 

I also find it interesting how the Riddlers had to eventually stop because they became more and more uncertain of its “necessity” — this could, in my opinion, imply a “leaving behind” or abandonment of Sampo as a character as well.

Keyword Note: “Revelrous” implies there may be a bit of Elation involved. A little easter egg in the story, if you will.

Gold and Gears: In Gold and Gears, Mysterious Magnetism creates Elite Domains out of Combat Domains, then grants Cosmic Fragments after two of those domains. Much like Organic Heart, there is a rigor present here, an upping of the stakes for greater rewards. What would be effortless is made difficult, but if the player survives they are rewarded for their troubles. Once again, this may point towards Sampo’s exchanging of a price for a reward, a stripping away of his power that makes everything — especially combat — more difficult, but that will eventually reward him what he wants.

Divergent Universe: The occurrence here follows a slightly different “give and take” track, less focused on rewarding something after hardship, but more on gaining and losing in the same breath. Interestingly enough, the gain here is at the beginning rather than the end, awarding the player 50 Cosmic Fragments every time they enter a domain but making them lose just as much once they win a battle. 

This could be seen as the nature of currency exchange — a central part of Sampo’s character — as something that gives and takes in equal measure, or it could also be seen as a means for him to avoid conflict. Perhaps whatever plan or deal he has strongly discourages fighting, likely because of the higher stakes involved or lessened powers he has. As such, it could be seen as “losing” in general for him to engage in conflict, since it might strip away even more of his already-fraying status.

Other Notes: It’s interesting that the hacker is attempting to replicate Herta’s Curios. Given that it gives us two very specific Curios, I wonder if those are the ones it’s trying to replicate? If so, why? I’m inclined to believe Sampo may be attempting to circumvent his own fate or state of being as a doll/toy, but it could be to save Belobog or someone else for plot reasons as well (or maybe even kill Aha Themself; Aeon murder isn’t off the table, after all).

I also am intrigued by “hacker” being in quotations. Paired with the “don’t ask me who I am,” I’m reminded of the toy’s secret that only Aha knows — perhaps Sampo simply doesn’t wish to reveal himself to us here, or perhaps there’s a deeper reason his identity is obscured. Basically, it comes down to the age-old question: Won’t, or can’t?

Overall, Organic Heart and Mysterious Magnetism sum Sampo up pretty well to me: an organic being straddling the grey area between different existences, as well as an indistinct combination of concepts capable of self-awareness and magnetic thought. In my opinion, these Curios point towards heavy themes of creation, combination, and being discarded, as well as the exchanging of one’s own power for a greater benefit (or “cheat”) later on. 

My pet theory combines both the Aha Stuffed Toy occurrence and Curio Hacker, seeing Sampo as a toy created by Aha in Their own image, a combination of mortal and immortal existence meant to be beaten and bleed wealth, who seeks to free himself from the purpose of his own existence through sacrificing the very power that was granted to him with it — likely Emanator or some equivalent status — while hopefully protecting those he cares about and even getting back at his creator at the same time (otherwise known as Doll Theory).

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ THE *PERFECT* GRAND CHALLENGE ⌝

When paired with both Aha Stuffed Toy and Curio Hacker, The *Perfect* Grand Challenge begins to paint a bigger picture. Here, a toy is once again mentioned (Aha and the Elation path seem to have a strange fixation on dolls and toys), this time as a “clay doll” trapped inside an arcade machine alongside other gacha prizes. You play through the arcade machine much like the occurrence, deciding which toy to pull and how many attempts to make. Here are a few of my notes:

Prizes: The prizes within the arcade machine include “trendy gachapon figures, ether orbs, and clay dolls,” although there are only two specific ones available: “popular gacha toy” and “clay doll.” I find it notable how the clay doll is emphasized here; despite being part of a three-item list at the beginning, the options are basically simplified down to “clay doll” and “everything else.” Additionally, the clay doll is the only item to have an extended description in the occurrence, which I will explain later.

Rewards: Each reward operates in probability, with the clay doll having a 50/50 for a regular vs. negative Curio, and the gacha toy has a 40/60 for a regular Curio vs. nothing. If we are looking at this occurrence within the context of the other two, the “clay doll” seems somewhat similar to both the Aha Stuffed Toy and Sampo himself, operating on chance to give the player either something helpful or harmful, to give or to take. Additionally, it fits with the Sampo of Finnish mythology, not having an option to not give — it must give, that is its function. And so it does.

Perfectionism: It’s a bit odd how perfectionism is a major theme of The *Perfect* Grand Challenge (hell, it’s even in the name)! I never thought of Elation as being closely intertwined with being “perfect”; in fact I always considered it to be the more chaotic of the Paths. However, there’s no escaping the fact that this occurrence not only shares the same cover art as other Elation occurrences like the Aha Stuffed Toy, but it also shares similarities like the clay doll, fun game, and “playful” programmer. 

So, my main question now is why? If we assume these occurrences are a manifestation of the Paths, then perhaps a subsection of Elation includes perfection. Another option is that the presence of an Erudition option points to a co-mingling of different Paths into something specific like perfection. Or, it is entirely possible that perfection is a natural emergent of Elation that we simply haven’t seen yet. Although Sampo and/or Aha don’t strike me as “perfectionist” types, there’s enough we don’t know about them that makes me think “huh, maybe they really do have some of that going on.” 

If we do, for a moment, entertain the idea that Aha may be a perfectionist in some regard, we can easily make connections between the other occurrences — for example, Sampo as a creation may have been abandoned much like Mysterious Magnetism in Aha’s pursuit of the “perfect toy”; Aha may have created toys in Their own image in the first place just to attempt a more “perfect” existence for Themself; Sampo may even be seen by Aha as in some way defective, leading to feelings of betrayal and hatred (or the opposite, Sampo being perfect enough to garner a god’s favor, which may not be a good thing when it comes to Elation).

There’s even the chance Sampo was created by another Path like Erudition (although that would cause a conflict with being “created in Aha’s likeness”) that may be more susceptible to latching onto perfection. Since the Riddlers (Enigmata) are also mentioned in Mysterious Magnetism, I wouldn’t put it beyond them either. Who knows, maybe he was a pet project collab between Aha and another Aeon!

Note: Who is the “perfect man”? Great question! It could fit in as Sampo with the idea of him sacrificing something for a reward, potentially “embarking on a challenge to become the perfect man” or it could fit in as Aha creating toys, being the “perfect man” that needs a “clay doll” like Sampo. “A perfectionist wants them all” could even allude to greed on either end, reaching beyond what is necessary in the pursuit of perfection. Or, it could be something else entirely. Who knows!

Text: As mentioned earlier, the clay doll has quite a lengthy (and worrisome, if we are comparing it to Sampo) bit of writing here. Most of the other writing sets up the scene (establishing the arcade game, the playful programmer, the game having a catch, etc.) but the clay doll is by far the most detailed and intensive play-by-play we get.

The other gacha figures either rise with the claw or drop, but the clay doll is different. If you win it, you get a short line of text with everything else, but if you lose… well…

Yeah, that’s definitely a lot! The main comparison I see is to the Aha Stuffed Toy occurrence, with the toy’s head blowing up (“the head of the doll has blown up” is actually the specific Stuffed Toy line!) and the clay doll’s head exploding with “fireworks bursting out from the head”.

Both of these events happen during extreme emotion, with the toy being created with the intent of venting emotion on and the clay doll exploding when you “lose your patience” and “give the machine a vicious kick”. With such an emphasis on the clay doll and its links to not only the stuffed toy, but to the programmer from Curio Hacker, I am officially inducting The *Perfect* Grand Challenge into the Sampo-Aligned Occurence Hall of Fame! 

I feel like this can slot in with my Doll Theory as well, taking my already mentioned timeline and adding the idea that Sampo is one of many attempts at a “perfect” recreation of Aha, one that is likely trying very desperately to escape from the dehumanization and danger of his kin. After all, two Elation-coded dolls exploding by the head in separate occurrences is not a fun precedent to follow!

Note: I mainly compared Sampo to the clay doll here given its similarity to the Aha Stuffed Toy, but it is entirely possible he is the programmer as well — hell, with the implications of Organic Heart he may as well be both!

Additional Note: There seems to be some connection between the Erudition and the Elation here, with the Aha Stuffed Toy occurrence’s only Path options being Elation and Erudition, as well as The *Perfect* Grand Challenge including an Erudition option despite having such heavy Elation influences. Creation, experimentation, and combination are in and of themselves a very Erudition-coded activity, though those very same concepts can also be creative and fun in the vein of the Elation.

Additionally, the story of Mysterious Magnetism (linked to Sampo who is very much linked with Elation) mentions the Riddlers conducting their experiment to “combat the determinacy of Erudition”. Just food for thought!

Bonus: This mention of the Aha Stuffed Toy in the Flea Market occurrence! Don’t mind me, I’ll just be crying at the “asking to be hit” part. (Also, four destructible Curios makes me think in plurality, meaning there are perhaps quite a few “stuffed toys” out there. It also implies awareness and the ability to communicate, making the toy much more likely to be a sentient / intelligent lifeform.)

Also this screenshot I caught of both occurrences & the man himself!

Okay, that’s all I have!

☆━━━━━ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ ◯ ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆ ━━━━━━☆

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ જ⁀➴ thank you for reading to the end!

☆━━━━━ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ ◯ ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆ ━━━━━━☆

© analysis by sunderingstars. do not copy, repost, translate, modify, or claim my work as your own.

[witch-hazels-musings]

Hi, Hazel! Could I have a Curse Ritual for Ayato with the cedar, hellebore, cinnamon, and angelite items please? >:3c Thank you! Looking forwarding to seeing the results, ehe!

Cedar (betrayal), Hellebore (anger, wrath), Cinnamon (love, prosperity), Angelite (gentleness, healing) Ayato x gn reader | Curse Ritual warning: angry ayato, reader is hurt (non-specific but not having a good time), its been a while so I hope this sounds like him (also this is kinda short - I'm sick T.T)

"Master. Master Kamisato, please wait-"

"Remove yourself from my path," Ayato's voice stilled the frantic bustle circling him, arms out as if to take away a perceived burden. Their eyes drifted to the body in his arms.

"Master, there is no need to take it upon yourself to handle these matters," the attendant appeasingly explained and took a step toward him. "Allow us to take th-"

"Withdrawl."

"Sir?"

"Step back," Ayato said but it came through as a warning as he slowly turned his attention to the bowing, trembling attendant. You groaned, whined. "I will not repeat myself," he added, violence flashing in his eyes.

The attendant looked at the others, each held their head dipped in deep respect. With reluctance, they returned to the shadow of the hall, Ayato's lingering on them until their position mirrored the other's subserviant acknowledgment.

Ayato continued down the hall, determination in every step. "Bring me a healer."

---

You hurt. Everywhere. It hurt to move, to lay still, to turn your head and open your eyes. You moaned and felt something cool against your cheek.

"Pace yourself," the voice said. Ayato's voice. You turned into the sound. You heard footsteps and the world tilted. "Enter."

A mixture of shuffling feet, clanging metal, and rustling fabric filled your ears. You winced in pain, relaxing slightly when gentle fingers glided along the side of your head.

"Did you find them?" Ayato asked coldly.

"Our searches have come up empty, Master. Several scouts are still loo-"

"Did I not task you with apprehending those who have slighted the clan? I have no objection to finding another should my demands be too difficult for you."

There was a heavy pause. "N-No, Master. We just -"

"Just what?" The stillness of the room was filled by your ragged breathing. You shifted but the pressure made you regret it. "Here's a suggestion: do not return until you have satisfied the requirements of your mission. And when you do, keep them healthy for me."

"Y-yes, Master." Whoever they were, they were gone as quickly as they came, returning the room to an eerie silence.

Ayato ran his fingers through your hair, across your brow, and carefully turned your head. A wash of blooming flowers and cool water filled your nose. You wanted to reach out to it but found your arms too heavy.

"I was neglectful," Ayato said but his voice sounded distant, like he was somewhere in the garden behind shoji doors. "It was never my intention to allow you into this world, for you to be thrown into the undercurrents of petty power struggles. I was careless."

His touch was soothing. You mumbled - or at least you think you did.

Heat washed over your face so you opened your eyes as wide as you could and saw his blurry visage in them. His face, inches from your own, eyes closed, cheek glistening in the moonlight.

"Fret not. I will not make the mistake again."

"A-Ayato."

"I am here my love. I am here," Ayato whispered against your brow and kissed you tenderly until your eyes closed. And he waited. Waited until a healer arrived, sat, unmoving while they tended to your wounds, and still he waited. Waited until new of your attackers returned to him so he could show them what happens to those who betray the Kamisato clan.

Thaumaturgy Anthology (October 11-13, 2024)

This event is based on spells and rituals. Inspiration does not equal understanding; liberties have been taken. All content is owned by Witch Hazels Musings, theft of these images and stories will result in immediate action.

[jr-acrux101]

Carousel Meeting

Summary: The 3 times Mike schidmt almost met you but didn't, plus the 1 time he did

Word Count: 1.9k

Can be read byself or as a prequel to my carousel series.

Tags: fluff, accidental meeting, soft spot for Abby

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⑅┅⑅┅⑅┅⑅┅⑅┅⑅┅⑅┅⑅┅⑅┅⑅┅⑅┅⑅┅⑅┅⑅┅⑅

(Before FNAF movie)

The first Mike saw you, your back was turned. You had you l/m/s hair down. You were wearing blue washed jeans that flared slightly, a cream colored knitted pullover and a brown leather jacket.

He had heard your obnoxious laugh from the back of the line in the fair. He saw you lightly push your friend, and she laughed as well.

Abby's head popped to the opposite side, and saw your face.

'Pretty.'

Mike had turned away, not wanting to be seen as a creep for trying to stare at your face.

Right as you were next the ride broke. Your friend groaned as you shrugged. Mike was being dragged as Abby whined to go to a different ride. As he turned down to tell her to wait, your shoulders bumped.

Unbalanced you fell on you friends, laughing harder. Mike yelled a quick 'Sorry,' as he was dragged off.

He a faint 'Sorry,' back. When he turned to face you, your friend blocked your image, the two of you not being able to see each other's face.

The next time you two missed meeting each other was the very next day again. Mike had promised Abby to take her everyday for the weekend to the fair.

You and your friend returned to the fair, after working for 2 weeks straight because a coworker quit, you finally got the weekend off to recharge and see your friends. This time your friend brought her boyfriend to go on the scary rides with you since she felt bad for always chickening out.

The three of you stopped by the darts and balloons, pushing them both out of the way. First try got the second biggest prize of a fox plush. On your next try you heard a little girl gasp.

Abby was looking with amazement at the plush purple bunny on top hanging.

"Want to try?" The carnival person asked.

Abby shook her head no, "I don't have enough."

Your heart broke a little. Getting the next 3 in a row, you won. Jumping up and down your friend clapped and hollered while her boyfriend rolled his eyes at the two of you.

"Whatcha want?"

The little girl was still there just watching now. "That one." When you got the plush and turned to her, she eyed you warily.

"Here, I already have the fox." She took it hesitantly.

You gave a warm smile as your friends tugged you to the duck ring game. You waved bye and she waved bye back and dashed to a man wearing a hoodie. You saw the curly hair from behind, and turned away.

Abby rushed to Mike, excited to show Mike the plush.

Mike gripped her firm and held her tight. For a split second he felt like he was a kid again seeing his brother get taken.

"Abby! You know you're not allowed to run off like that! Why would you do that?"

"I only went right there." She pointed to the booth across from where Mike was sitting.

He turned to answer and phone call from his security guard co worker and Abby was gone for a minute with him frantically searching. When he tried to call out, nothing came out. He started to have a panic attack. And there she was.

When she re-appeared he almost threw up. He crouched down and noticed the blue plush.

"Who gave that to you?"

"Some girl won two in a row and she let me have it because she had a fox one!" Mike's eyebrows furrowed but nodded.

"That was nice of her…"

Abby nodded her head. "Don't run off again Abby. You could've been taken. " 'Too.' It was unspoken but Abby understood.

"Sorry Mike."

"Come they have shaved ice with your favorite flavor."

She beamed again and hopped while pulling Mike.

The third time the paths almost met but did not was in the house of mirrors. Mike was against it but Abby coaxed him with the 'pretty please' 'cherry on top' and puppy dog eyes. He rolled his and followed behind Abby.

He watched as she hit her head, trucked by the mirrors, she glared and huffed as Mike laughed at her. He dropped the plush as he was laughing. The duo didn't notice til after outside.

As luck had had it, you noticed the plush when you made it to the half-way mark. It reminded you of the little girl and wondered if she hit her head and dropped it. You chuckled at the thought of that and took it with you.

Abby was crying as Mike promised to get her another on.

"Abby come on I'll buy or win or whatever it is again."

The tears fell and she shook her head no, "No she won it for me! She was nice and gave it to me because she knew I wanted it and I lost it." She sobbed and her hand made it to her eyes.

Mike groaned, "Okay Abby I will go back, " he scanned the crowd and saw a group of police officers walking by.

"Hey! Excuse me!"

They two men and women turned around, the red headed men raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"I'm sorry to ask but do you mind watching her real quick? I dropped her plush in the maze and she doesn't want to go in with me again to look but still wants me to. It'll be like less than 5 minutes, I just don't want her by herself." What he assumed was his sister with the matching hair and last name, nodded.

"Yeah that's fine, we are waiting for our co-worker to be down in the restrooms right there."

Mike thanked them and dashed in after giving the young teenage girl 3 more tickets.

A minute had passed as Mike went in, and then you popped out finishing it, with your friends trailing behind you. You scanned the area and saw the little girl crying with police around her. 'Is she lost?' You said 'be right back,' and headed that way.

"Excuse me?" The police, trying to calm her down, turned to look at you. Abby looked up with teary eyes and saw you. She ran and hugged your leg.

"I lost Mr. Bunny. I'm sorry!" She wailed and cried.

"Hey hey it's okay no need to cry. Look I found him, he's waiting to hug you again." She gasped and dove into a hug with the plush.

The cops looked at you questioningly. You noticed their gaze and explained. "I won it earlier and she really wanted it so I gave it to her, I already won the fox, I just like playing the games." They nodded, a little more at ease with you. As you turned around you crashed into a blonde girl, with a police uniform. She dropped her corn dog on the floor.

"Oh my god I am so so sorry. Here let me get you a new one."

"It's fine. My fault for not paying attention and whatnot."

"No really let me get you a new one." She hummed as she wiped the little crust of the corn dog off her. Before going off with her you turned back around. "Okay I gotta go but be careful okay. Are you waiting for your mom or dad with the police officers?"

She nodded and pointed to the mirror maze. "My brother is in there trying to find Mr. Bunny."

"Okay okay good. I'll see you around, be sure to keep Mr. Bunny safe and close at all times, okay?"

She gave a watery smile and nodded. You gave her a pat on the head and waved goodbye to the group. Mike dashed out if the maze as he saw a blonde and h/c go by.

Abby was finally smiling and laughing and holding the plush again.

Mike was confused, "Abby, how did you get that?"

"Oh the girl who won it was in the maze too! She came right out when you went in and gave him back to me."

Mike stared at her and then the police who nodded along. The woman spoke, "She was a nice young thing who made sure the little was okay, even offered to buy our co-worker her food after they bumped and it spilled."

'What the fuck?' Mike nodded at the story. "Okay Abby, say thank you to the officers who were watching you and let's go."

The siblings thanked the officers and went their own way, as your friends whisked you off after apologizing to the young police officer again.

The time the paths crossed:

Your friend rolled her eyes as you sat on the bench.

"I'm tired. I just wanna sit down."

"You can sit on the carousel!"

"No, aye you go take her already. Shoo."

Your friend rolled her eyes as her boyfriend shrugged.

"Pick her up."

The two of you stared at her, then shared a look.

'Is she for real?'

'I think so.'

"Y/n I'm dead serious."

"Please let me rest! You've dragged me around the whole day, my social battery is at zero, let me recharge." You begged, if needed at this point you'd get on your hands and knees.

Your friend sighed and nodded. "Fine, rest and draw or whatnot."

Mike and Abby argued for a bit about Mike going on but with the whole tired from work thing Abby went by herself. A nice couple helped her on the horse, Mike motioned to the bench you were at, letting Abby know he was there watching. Abby waved and hugged Mr. Bunny.

Mike noticed the girl sitting there, she was slightly hunched over and what looked like drawing.

Mike cleared his throat and the girl slightly jumped. She looked wide eyed at Mike, who couldn't help but think 'Pretty.'

"Yeah…?"

"Sorry um do you mind if I sit? My sister is over there and I want to watch her." He waved toward the carousel moving.

"Yeah that's fine, go ahead." Mike sat, and tried to focus on the carousel bit his eyes would slide over the girl next to him.

She was pretty, with her h/c and big e/c eyes. She had long eyelashes and pink pouty lips.

Mike's eyes dragged down her figure and noticed thick thighs. His eyes quickly shot up.

'Focus on Abby not the hot stranger next to you.'

To you though Mike looked bored and to be in his own world.

'Just say something!'

"So how old is your sister?"

Mike turned his attention towards you, "She's 8."

"Hmm. That's such a great age to take them places, since they'll actually remember it."

"Yeah, I guess so."

'I guess hes not much of a talker.'

'Are you serious? You couldn't add more to the conversation?'

"Do you have any siblings?"

You turned to him and gave him a smile. "No vut I have a younger cousin I grew up with, he's like my little brother basically. I was going to bring him but he got in trouble for fighting."

Mike smirked, "Fighting?"

"Yeah, one of the other little brats was bullying this one quite girl with braces. And it turned physical."

He cocked a brow, "And he got punished?"

You leaned in a little closer, and Mike subconsciously did the same. "Just for 2 days, hos mother just doesn't like fighting period. But she's letting me take him for the last day of the carnival and then to go get ice cream and waste the day away, basically."

Mike nodded along, "I guess that makes sense. No parent wants to see their kid fight and possibly get hurt."

"Yeah, she also wants me to stress the importance of no physical fights. Since, he listens to me a little more."

"That's nice." You hummed in agreement.

When the carousel stopped, you got up slowly, and you ripped a piece of paper out.

"Uh here." Mike took it slowly and you walked off to greet your friends, off to the next attraction. Mike eyed you as you left, eyes trailing up and down.

"Maybe fairs aren't so bad." Mike muttered to himself. Abby came running, excited riding the carousel. And Mike was excited too, he got a girl's number.

"Was it fun?" Abby nodded yes and hugged Mr. Bunny.

"Alright let's go it's past your bedtime." Abby gave a dejected look but nodded nonetheless.

'Hey, it's the guy from the carousel.'

'Which one?'

'Just kidding! I swear!'

He huffed a laugh out loud. And Abby looked at him funny as he was disturbing drawing/cartoon time.

'Real funny.'

'I am known to be somewhat of a comedian.'

'Somewhat?'

'Can't always be making jokes.'

As the texting continued, Mike Schmidt was saved under "Carousel Boy ♥︎"

Mike would never admit it, but before getting your name and before the second date, you were under "my carousel girl."

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

I feel like mile wouldnt text at first but since he thought you were hot and checking you out he'd do it as like a let me have 1 thing "selfish" attitude but then realizes that fuck hes in to deep like by the secind date. In the carousel series, Mike still doesn't know lol he just thinks you and abby clicked bc abby wanted to have a secret between the two of you.

I lied again yall 😪 couldn't help myself

Taglist: @stinkii-boii @hellothisisprincesskitty

[waywardwizzard]

Art and fic for @alto-tenure for the @plgiftexchange. I hope my secret buddy likes the gifts <3

(Fic under the cut! And please, for the love of puzzles, click on the image for better quality)

Flora watched as St. Mystere grew smaller in the distance, disappearing into the hills as they turned a corner.

She'd miss the little village, of course she would, but part of her was glad to see it go. It felt right in a way a lot of things haven't these past few years.

The Professor caught her eye in the rear-view mirror and winked, nodding at something the boy (Luke. His name was Luke. She wondered if he was his son) said.

Another thing that felt right. She was glad that they were the ones who had found her.

Settling back into the seat of the funny little car, she watched the scenery fly by and let her mind drift back to all the others who had come to the village.

‐

The first, she remembered, had been an odd pair.

They had landed just outside the village late one night, their small plane comically gaudy against the calm countryside even in the moonlight.

At first she thought she had dreamt it, the sound of thrusters shutting off, the soft whisper of voices tugging at her consciousness as she fell deeper into sleep, but then she saw them cross the drawbridge as soon as the sun rose. 

The one had worn a mask that obscured half his face, a cape and feathers obscuring almost everything else, and he had swept over the bridge and into town like he owned it. His companion had followed more sedately, like a parent keeping an eye on their child. 

Grief had welled up then, it still did, threatening to drown her, but she had swallowed it down. It didn't do well to dwell on things like that.

The longer it had taken them to find the Golden Apple, the more and more irritated the Phantom look alike had grown, his voice sometimes carrying far enough up her tower that she could hear him from the other side of the village.

It was funny how oblivious he had been, now that she thought about it. 

More than once she had walked past him without her disguise on and in the end he hadn't even blinked when she gave him a puzzle in her disguise! That was when she decided it was good enough to work. His friend (father? He looked old enough) had smiled though, a knowing twinkle in his eyes that had told her the disguise maybe wasn't that good but it was all she had to use. She was thankful that he hadn't said anything.

It had taken her an embarrassingly long time to realize that their hearts weren't entirely set on just finding the treasure itself.

The feathered man (she never learned his name, what a shame) had kept muttering about a man named Hershel and how he 'couldn't let his brother best him yet again, Raymond!' and 'wouldn't it be the perfect way for him to find out?'. 

Raymond had given him a look and they had left it at that. They had left the village soon after; the man running for the gate as if one of Bruno's robot dogs was at his heels, Raymond already starting the engine.

She never found out what it was that he wanted his brother to find out. She hoped the man had found a way to tell him after all.

-

The next people had come a few hours after the plane had flown away. 

With bags packed to the brim and precariously balanced on the roof, a car had puttered up the winding path, stopping just before the edge of the river bank.

Three people had tumbled out, their voices loud enough to easily carry all the way over the river and to the secret platform she'd found while exploring the sewers. 

The red-haired one had bounced around between helping the other two, all the while babbling about finding the treasure in the same way Bruno talked about cogs and machines.

"I can feel it," he had said. "We're close."

"We haven't even started looking, Randall."

"Oh, come on, Henry! Where's your sense of adventure?"

The third person of the group, a woman, had sighed fondly and grabbed the both of their hands. "Don't start, you two. We need to find a place to stay and unpack all this before nightfall."

It had taken her a lot quicker to realize that they also weren't just looking to find the treasure.

They had talked about places called Stansbury and Monte d'Or, about forgiveness and things she hadn't even tried to understand. (She still didn't understand all of it. Maybe she should ask the Professor one day).

"If I can find this," Randall had said one night, a few weeks into their stay, "then maybe I'll find the part of myself that I had lost down there."

"Maybe you've already found it," Angela (at least she had learned everyone's names that time) had said and in the early light of dawn she'd watched as Angela and Henry each took one of Randall's hands.

Not even a week later they had repacked and re-stacked their luggage and were driving off into the distance.

She had been left with the vague feeling that Randall might have found what he'd been looking for even if he hadn't found the treasure.

-

The last person had left almost as soon as he had arrived, two years before the Professor and Luke had come.

He had ambled into the village, bowler hat on his head and a polkadot tie around his neck that reminded her of Matthew.

Not even a week into his stay, he'd rushed off again, a note clutched in his hand, muttering something about some or other box.

She hadn't heard the name of the box because he'd walked into her on his way out, but he'd given her a sliding puzzle in apology and she had left it at that. It had nothing to do with her and sliding puzzles were her favourite, after all. 

The puzzle was made out of a dark wood, intricately carved with flowers and golden vines that twined around the edges. She'd solved it in less than a day and found a tiny apple blossom inside along with 50 picarats. It had been the most she'd ever got for a puzzle.

-

Now that she thought back about it, it seemed like a lot of people had been looking for a lot of things that had not been the treasure back then.

As her eyelids grew heavy, the warm sun and the gentle rocking of the car lulling her to sleep, she absent-mindedly wondered if any of them had found what they'd been looking for in the end.

[we-ask-beforewe-bite]

Levis: I don't need illusions. I want the Gale standing right in front of me. Gale: Are you sure...? I could conjure up any sight that you could dream of, and a few you could not. I could use the Weave to make us feel sensations beyond reckoning. I could do more than woo you. I could wow you. Levis: You don't need to impress me, Gale. I'm no deity. Gale: Yes, you are. Trust me, I would know. Let's do it your way then. So long as it's with you.

[ Full transcript ⇩ ]

Gale's Mirror Image: Good evening! I am here on behalf of Gale og Waterdeep. He wishes to extend you an invitation for a private conversation in a more suitable locale. Levis: Very well, show me the way. Gale's Mirror Image: Gladly. Simply follow yonder path and soon you will find him. Gale: I love this time of night. There's an almost reverent silence that accompanies the peak of darkness, when you'd almost believe the dawn will never break. The cradle of eternity. The timelessness of lovers. That most beautiful of fantasies. Levis: You seem especially philosophical this evening. Are you all right? Gale: I will be, soon. I am perhaps just one hard day away from being without any troubles at all. This may be my last night alive. I wanted it to be under a canopy of beauty and wonder... and with company to match. I thought this place might bring me peace. I thought it might make the weight of what I must do feel a little lighter... but I'm not so sure. Levis: Are you not afraid? Gale: Afraid? No, I am terrified. But fear or courage or reason cannot change the charge I've been given. There is no point running from the inevitable. Better to meet it, on my own terms. Levis: You sound sure in your course of action then. Gale: Resigned to it, rather. But that is not to say I am without fear. Far from it. Stay with me a while, will you? Day will come all too soon, even in this place. Levis: I'm not going anywhere, Gale. I'll be by your side, whatever dawn brings. Gale: One moment with you could sate me for a lifetime, and prise the fear from my heart. I'm so very glad you came, to share this with me. I know this is all unreal, but I created it for you. You must know that you're... That you're very special to me. If things were different, if we were home, I'd have taken the time to do things properly. To say it all better. But time is short. I'm in love with you. Levis: I'm in love with you too. Gale: Thats a relief. It would be a shame to spend my final hours making an ass of myself. Levis: You're a good kisser. Gale: And you're a bad liar. I lived the life of a hermit for sometime before I met you - safer for all, but not conducive to pleasures of the flesh. I want it to be perfect - to bond with you in the way that gods do... intertwinning our spirits in visions of the Weave. Levis: I don't need illusions. I want the Gale standing right in front of me. Gale: Are you sure...? I could conjure up any sight that you could dream of, and a few you could not. I could use the Weave to make us feel sensations beyond reckoning. I could do more than woo you. I could wow you. Levis: You don't need to impress me, Gale. I'm no deity. Gale: Yes, you are. Trust me, I would know. Let's do it your way then. So long as it's with you. A small gesture towards your comfort.

[naffeclipse]

I saw all those harpy Penguin posts and was like "I wonder if I could help or add something" when I noticed you wanted a name for it. Idk if you already have one but here is the essence of it I have so far in general.

Cardinal Instinct, or also words or phrases and concepts such as Nature vs Nuture, Core Instincts, Celestial Alingment, Harmonic Convergence.

Cardinal because it means most important or fundamental, and it is an aspect of the Zodiac signs with Cardinal, Fixed and Muted nature's based on the cycles of seasons and their phases of the start, the intrinsic bulk and the transitional conclusion.

It also is a play on Carnal, similar to how Apex Polarity is both a play on the phrase Apex Predator and Polarity with Polar, or maybe even also just with the Poles. It is also a reference to Cardinal directions, which are the defined and known directions on a compass, they are the familiar and known paths that are often taken because they form our understanding of the world and everything in it. But although they are the most formal they are most certainly not the only ways.

This references how Eclipse and PenguinHarpy!Y/N are both following their Instincts but also are in a situation where they are coming into question. They are both trying to care for the babies, but Penguin Y/N shouldn't by the technical detail of them not being Harpies but Orca Mer young, while it makes more sense for Eclipse to be compelled to tend to them. But Eclipse Is also bending the situation when he refrains from just following that direct line of instinct, naturally arriving at the typical bloody conclusion.

While nurture is what compelled our Harpy Y/N to take these 2 baby mers under their wings literally, it's up to Eclipse to either follow the vein straight to the scent of blood at the end or deviate from nature's course and answer in kind. The heart flows both in and out, and it's nature is as entrenched in its deep and darker reaches as it is swathed in the warmer and brighter patterns where the light touches.

But we all know at the end of the day if Eclipse gets what he wants he's taking a birdie home along with the two newly adopted children.

On another note I also did ponder over the concept of Sun and Moon being in the same universe as Apex Polarity, and my interpretation/idea was Sun being a Beluga and Moon being a Narwhal. Beluga fits Sun's personality quite a bit, but I will admit I cannot imagine how the heck you'd be able to fit that goofy-ass horn on Moon. I just wanted to mention this for the mental image of magical sea unicorn Moon and musical sea canary Sun for fun.

I love Cardinal Instinct! It flows well, has lots of thought and meaning behind it, and mirrors the structure name of Apex Polarity! I'd love to use that for the AU title if you don't mind!!! The dynamics of Orca!Eclipse and Penguin Harpy!Y/N are so well defined and explored within a few paragraphs, I'm in awe!

(He's absolutely taking a birdie home along with his babies)

That's so cute!!! A natural musical ability and a beautiful white and yellow tipped tail for Sun, and a majestic tusk for Moon with a tail of deep blue mottled with white markings like stars! I'm pondering some kind of sea shell or maybe even twisting his tusk into a head cap instead of a large canine tooth.

Regardless, these two would be much more mild-mannered with our lovely photographer, though no less interested in Y/N.

Excellent thoughts all around; I'm chewing on your every word!

[sparrowrye]

A Little Something….

Update + Snippet

Greetings my little devils. Thank you, as always, for being so persistent in your patience with me! I’m hitting quite the writer’s block as I start the transition between DEMI DEMON and a new Alastor x Reader story.

It’s a late Spring cleaning for us! Expect pinned posts to be rewritten, new pinned ones to come out (super excited about some of these), and a few polls about the current or new story.

Part 15: boiling blood is half written and boy is it spicy 🌶️ I’ll update you when I’m close to posting it

As a little gift for your patience, here’s a snippet I wrote awhile back. It was the first part of a random story I had and the inspiration came from these images (at the bottom) on Pinterest - my unhealthy addiction

Enjoy!

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

My hands gripped the edges of the stone sink as I sucked in a shaky breath. My legs were ready to give out at any moment. My recent patient nearly died and it had taken nearly all my energy to bring him back from the land of the dead. He was a fighter and his memories alone were enough of suck the very life out of my lungs; memories that were familiar to me.

I splashed my face with the ice cold water before I could trail down that dark path. My bones ached, a migraine pressed at the front of my head, and my throat was horribly dry. I gulped down several mouthfuls of water before looking at myself in the mirror.

My eyes were red and chronic dark circles under my eyes dragged my skin down. I looked half dead, which to be fair, wasn't really far from the truth. I grabbed the small towel and dried my face. I kept it pressed against my eyes, enjoying the only clean and sand-free thing I owned.

When I looked back in the mirror, hoping to see a slight improvement in my features, I noticed a dark figure in the doorway.

I spun, hand extended. A silver blade flew from my sleeve and buried its tip in the stone. I instantly recognized the tall ears, skinny cane, and red coat. His lips pulled back to reveal a yellow-teeth smile. His head remained still as his eyes glanced over at the knife a few inches from his face.

"Was that out of respect or inaccuracy?" he asked.

"What do you think?" I lowered my hand and took two steps back.

"Good to see you haven't lost your touch." His sharp claws tapped his cane one at a time. He brought a hand up to examine the knife still buried three-quarters of the way in the stone. He recognized the art of the handle. "Or my gift."

"Weapons aren't allowed in this settlement," I justified. "It's the only one I have." I mentally kicked myself. I had just admitted to being defenseless.

He grabbed the handle and pried it out of the wall with one swift pull. He examined the blade in his hand, glancing up to look at me briefly through his red hair. Had it gotten darker? "Come, dear," he curled the knife in his hand and turned away, "we have much to discuss."

I clenched my hands into fists at my side. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

"We're not going anywhere," he said over his shoulder so nonchalantly, "but it's rude not to entertain a guest. Especially at such a late hour." I followed to the entrance of my room and watched him lean against the wall closest to the stove. "You remember how I like my coffee."

"At such a late hour?" I mocked, taking only a few steps from my room.

"I have business to attend to at the Hive. Traveling at all hours of the day gets us there sooner." His eyes glanced briefly at the stove as an incentive.

I swallowed on nothing. "I'm not going to entertain you after you nearly killed me and Creo when we escaped." The memory of my brother and I trying to make our escape had always burned in the back of my mind.

Alastor gave a fake gasp, still sporting his stupid smile, and put a hand on his chest. "I did not try to kill you..." His smile molded into a smirk. "That was the attempt before your successful one."

"We almost died on that cliff!" I took a daring step forward.

He shrugged and put both hands on his cane, swiveling it around in front of him. He cocked his head to the side. "It did what I wanted. You broke your foot and couldn't attempt it again for weeks."

My voice dropped an octave. "You did more than just break my foot while I was stuck with you."

"May we have this conversation over coffee? I am so very tired and we have much to discuss." He lifted the knife from his cane and spun it once in his fingers, eyes glancing sideways at me. I knew what he was implying.

I pulled in a deep breath then I crossed the room to start the coffee. The embers in the stove were enough for the dry weeds to catch flame. I closed the metal door and brought out the coffee pot. I dropped the powder in and put it on the stone plate over the fire.

"What do you want?" I asked, turning to lean against the adjacent wall so I could have him in my full sights. My arms crossed my chest protectively.

"Tell me about this life of yours." He gestured to the small cave.

"It's simple and perfect. Wouldn't want to ever leave it."

"Why's that? Surely you're bored here."

My heart was beating in my ears now. "I'm not leaving. And neither is Creo."

"Quit being so defensive, my dear." He pushed off the wall and swung his arms dramatically. "We are merely two acquaintances catching up after a seven year parting."

I couldn't abate the nausea that was creeping into my throat. I was so nervous it was making me sick. "Is that we are?"

"You don't believe so?"

"'I am the master and you the servant. Heed my words carefully,'" I repeated the phrase that had haunted me for years.

"I recall saying that within the first year of you joining me," he sounded unfazed. "Our dynamic changed as the years went on."

"Careful, Alastor," I dared to say his name in such a casual manner, "someone might think we're lovers."

He closed his eyes with a soft chuckle. Being lovers had been insinuated by the warriors after my first two years with him. He had always kept me at his side and put aside time to find ways to enhance my magic or my vision seeking. It had never been anything more than rumors. Eventually they were silenced when Husker, the captain, earned enough credit among the ranks for them to believe him when he said Alastor and I were master and student, not lovers.

When Alastor opened his eyes again they were already looking at me. "I must say, I do enjoy seeing this new you. Not as timid and afraid as you once were." It took him three steps to cross the small kitchen and stand an inch from me. He towered above me like he always had, making me shrink under his daunting shadow.

"W-well, I've grown," I replied. "Seven years can do a lot for someone." I leaned against the poorly melded counter, nails scraping the stone on either side of my hip. His familiar, overpowering scent of smoke and incest filled my nose. It made the world kilter to one side.

"Indeed it does. Perhaps you will hear me out then." He leaned down so our faces were inches apart. My back was hurting from bending it so far over the counter in an attempt to keep the distance. I casted my eyes down at my hands on the edge of the counter, at my shirt, at anything other than him.

A blade snapped up in my vision. I let out a gasp as the edge barely caught my nose. Cold claws grabbed my wrist and wrenched it off the counter. His red, beady eyes stared back at me, focusing less on the knife and more on my eyes. It was hard to breathe.

The knife dropped into the palm of my hand and I flinched. My eyes darted down to the weapon as he gradually moved closer, red hair brushing against my cheek. What was he going to do? I've seen him rip someone's ear off before. Nothing but red filled my vision as he pressed me further into the counter. His breath was hot on my ear.

"The coffee is boiling."

He abruptly straightened up and took a single step back. I sucked in fresh air, eyes jumping from him to the kettle. The sight of the brown liquid spilling on the hot stone pulled me out of my daze. I grabbed the pot and put it on a single plate full of cold sand to keep it from toppling over. I slipped the knife into my sleeve holster and brushed past him to grab a mug, careful not to actually touch him. I drew in another deep breath.

The kitchenware was stored in a cabinet further from the stove, also dug into the rock. We had only two mugs - for two people. They were probably the finest, straightest thing we owned. They were a cool, maroon color and had a wide base.

I grabbed the two mugs and poured a full cup in one and half in the other. I made sure to use the non-chipped mug for him. When I turned to hand it to him, he had already seated himself at the living room table. His legs were folded neatly under him and his staff resting not too far. I hated when he moved silently - it was unsettling.

Biting the inside of my lip, I passed over to the carpeted area and placed the mug in front of him. His eyes examined the simple mug before bringing it to his lips, taking a long inhale of the steam. His eyes flicked up to mine as I pretended to take a sip of my own cup.

"Your taste in coffee has sweetened," he remarked into the mug, finally tasting it.

"Creo doesn't like the dark brand you drink."

"But you do."

"Not anymore." I placed the warm mug on the table and leaned on my elbows. I pressed my hands against the hog mug in an effort to keep myself from fidgeting.

"Your elbows, dear," he corrected.

I had half the mind to ignore him but the last thing I needed was to give him a reason to be angry or annoyed. The uneasy feeling in my stomach grew as I pulled my elbows off the table and tapped a finger against the clay cup.

"Why are you here?"

"I told you," he glanced at me briefly over the rim of the mug, "I have an audience with Lucifer in the Hive."

"No. Why are you here? It's not like you to be away from the front lines and when you do you're quick to get back. So why bother stopping in a small, unimportant village?"

His smile quirked to the side. He placed the mug down, using his pinky finger to keep it from hitting the table too hard, mostly out of sheer habit since the table was covered in rugs and wool.

"Perceptive, as always." He placed his hands in his lap, back straight and manners reigned in perfectly. "Well, my dear, I had a vision of this very conversation. I planned my route to the Hive and stopped only at the nearest villages that I knew had their residents living in stone."

A vision. How developed was that skill, now? He had them quite often when I was with him but now it's been seven years. Surely he developed that skill exponentially. Is that why he hadn't flinched when I threw my knife?

"Most villages live in stone," I said, unsure of what to say.

"Not anymore, my dear. They have no need to be with the Humans securely behind Sharptooth's pass."

"Then why look for me? Why waste your time going to villages to find me? Surely you've already found a replacement healer for your army. That wouldn't be very smart of you if you hadn't."

"Indeed I did." He lifted the mug to drink again. He must be pretty tired if he's drinking sweet coffee.

"So then why are you here talking to me?" I asked again. He took his time, eyes closed as he drank the thick coffee, and let the silence hold over our heads. I could remember how uncomfortable it once made me when he created prolonged silence. I felt it creeping back into my bones, struggling to shove it down and stare at him until he was ready to speak again.

Finally he lowered the mug. His claws stayed wrapped around the handle as he placed it on the table. "I had not intended for you to stay away for so long. My spy's past caught up to him and died on his mission to follow you. I intend to bring you back."

There it is. I knew what he wanted but hearing him say it still hit me like a train. My hands pressed into the mug so hard that I worried it might crack and shatter. Fear gripped my shoulders and held my spine in place. His eyes stayed firmly locked with mine as I struggled to find my words. I had to pry my eyes away from his and stare down at the dark liquid.

But did he say...

He had let me stay away? Did that mean he had let me escape on purpose? How long was he planning to let me try to make a life on my own before roping me back in? Who had been the spy?

"I will not be going back with you," I said slowly. It felt like I was standing in the center of a metal rabbit trap, the claws ready to snap up and decapitate me. "I fought tooth and nail for this life, for Creo. You won't take it from us."

He let out a sigh, his smile still pressed in his cheeks. "Is it really one you wish to risk your safety, your brother's safety, over?"

"Yes."

"Why?" He tilted his head so his ears waved. He lifted the mug to his lips again, eyes never once leaving mine. He sounded genuinely interested in my answer.

My palms turned up to the ceiling, mouth moving but no words coming out. How could he be serious? My life was hell with him and his army. He knew how to twist my thoughts around so I went the other route. "Creo's life isn't being threatened. He's not at risk for dying from a Human attack. And he's not being influenced by the tough, respect-less army lifestyle.”

"You view it as respect-less?" He sounded surprised, curious even, at the term.

"Among each other," I revised, "I don't want him adopting their behavior." My back was starting to hurt.

"He is not six years old anymore," he lowered the mug just enough to say his part, "he's now, what, fourteen?”

"Sixteen," I answered. "Still an impressionable age."

"Most people his age have their occupation or are married. It appears he has found his occupation." He glanced around at the various gadgets and inventions littering the place.

"He's finishing his childhood since he didn't have one."

"He's a man, my dear, no longer a boy."

"My answer is no. We are not coming with you."

He placed the mug down. "Then leave him. I only need you."

"We don't separate."

He broke his manners by placing his elbow on the table and leaning his chin on the back of his hand.  "You realize you are the one who makes these things difficult? I am not to blame anymore."

"We are not going with you," I punctuated each word. "You will have to drag me by my teeth." Even as I said it, I wish I hadn't. I knew he would do it if it came to that. He wasn't above anything.

"How unfortunate." He grabbed his staff and stood. I was faster, on my feet in an instant and ready for him to do something dangerous. "You've lost your good manners in my absence."

He looked to the front door as two men burst through it, dragging Creo's hissing form. They were dressed in red and both held a struggling arm. One of them had a tight grip on the back of his neck. Creo dug his feet into the ground and tried to wrench himself free.

The men forced him onto his knees and the one man pulled on his hair so he was forced to look up at Alastor. The Demon took a single stride to stand above him. "My my, you've grown quite a lot," he crossed his arms and leaned heavily on his red cane, "You were barely past my knees last I saw you. Do you remember me?"

"Should I?" Creo hissed when the man pulled tighter on his hair.

"Indeed. That burn mark on the back of your neck is my crest." He reached a single claw around to press on the spot under his long hair. Creo's eyes fell to me. "You belong to me."

"He doesn't know how to fight like your warriors," I said, voice echoing too loudly off the walls. Alastor straightened up and turned his head just enough to look at me out the corner of his eye. "He has no use for your army."

"No use? I see a bright mind eager to explore his skills and limitations." He looked at the random metal objects and inventions lying around the cave. "I could easily provide materials and guidance to a gifted inventor."

"Neither of us are going with you." It didn't sound as firm as I wanted.

His eyes found mine. "I am gracing you with one more opportunity, meerkat," he used the condescending nickname. "Return with me willingly and I ensure Creo stays out of my ranks and out of harm's way. If I have to...drag you back by your teeth...he will remain on the front lines." He leaned his cane sideways and watched, waited, for my answer.

Why hadn't I received a vision about this? I had lost touch with that skill since leaving Alastor but surely my mind would've predicted this? Would've saved me? Yet I had no vision. I was standing before Alastor and about to determine how my life, and Creo's, would go. Why could I never keep either of us safe? Why was it so hard to keep our lives secure? To give us a normal life?

Alastor was uprooting us. We had found a place to let our roots grow but he was pulling us up as if the soil had been sand this whole time. He was taking us away from a shady, moist area and placing us in a plant pot in the middle of the desert.

I didn't know how to feel. I was at a complete loss. My heart felt like it had been wrenched out. I had believed wholeheartedly that I had managed to evade him, to finally outsmart him and hide away. Our city was far from the front lines and he had no reason to be so far back into Duner territory. It was thanks to his audience with the King that he had found me.

"What do you say, my dear?" He stepped closer and the sound of his cane tapping the stone sounded like a key locking the cage door.

There was no debate. Alastor had spent half his life fighting, meaning I wouldn't be able to beat him in a one on one fight. Even if I had a chance, I didn't want to bank Creo's safety on it. If I fought Alastor and lost, he would put Creo on the front lines. I may never see him again. I lowered my head, staring at the tip of his black boots.

"Okay."

"What was that?" He took another step forward. It felt like the corners of the room were darkening.

"I will go with you."

He stepped closer still, claw coming up to push my chin up. His red face was clouding my entire vision and his canine teeth poked out of his lips in an ugly smirk.

"Willingly?" he pressed.

"Yes," I clenched my teeth in a snarl but it was far from one. He raised his eyebrows and examined my face with half lidded, knowing eyes. My lips closed over my teeth. "Yes, Alastor."

He hummed in satisfaction. "Come dear, show me that lovely smile. You know you're never fully dressed without one!"