#nero who cared so much he had to let go

[flovverworks]

derick not wanting to name the owl cuz he doesnt want to get attached. its joever

[sylhea-raemi]

and what if nero thinks of himself as a tool for the three magicians he knew for a decade. what if he only limits as himself as a pawn, what if that's why he so easily threw himself as a sacrifice to protect his friends.

[lanalace]

Gifts Given [Yandere Merman x FemReader]

Word count: 2,328

Summary: Nero Sol Nifan has waited for a mate for years while suffering from the madness that came as a side effect of the power he was bestowed. One day, he met you. His salvation. The only obstacle is that you were human. However, that was only an obstacle for you because he doesn’t plan to let you go.

Chapter 1 - Lost and Found

Life was a routine. Wake up, hunt, sleep and repeat. Occasionally the merman would share in song with the rest of his kind but that was it. He hated it. He was forever bored and life just felt mundane. Nero Sol Nifan was a 250 years old merman. He had reached maturity at 200 and had expected to find his mate within the first decade but no such luck. For a being so highly valued, it crushed his spirits. 

Most merfolk found their mates within the first decade of reaching reproductive age, so why hadn’t he? Every decade after that was just an insult to injury. It was an open wound that grew larger with each year that passed without finding his mate and he was becoming desperate, though he would never show it on the outside.

He was told by an elder that most unmated males felt this way at his age and that this was quite normal to feel anxious and desperate. But being unmated for years would start to dull the outlook on life and not a single female that has sought him out was his fated one. None so much as interests him. Every mermaid had a destined match, however that never stopped them from copulating until the day they found their mate.  He had both females and males fawn over him, within and outside of the mating cycles. But he rejected every single one of them. ‘If swimming to warmer waters was not ingrained in my biology, I would avoid it all together.’ Merfolk could enjoy each other's bodies whenever they pleased but only during mating cycles could offspring be produced and that's usually when most of his kind met their fated partner. 

He still held hope that he would be able to find his mate despite his age. So he made sure to always carry the betroval item in a white satchel around his hip, inside was a bracelet of brilliant large baroque pearls and shiny yellow gold spacers. It was of the highest quality and extremely rare/hard to acquire which is why he was the only merman to have such jewels grace his body and soon so would his person who he’d live out his days with. For now, having to watch the rest of his kind find their pair and their release in each other every year while he could not just enraged him. He was almost tempted to kill some of those pretentious merfolk. He could do so very easily but he decided against it. He could do it so very easily.

Nero Sol Nifan was the strongest, priding himself on becoming most desirable for when he found his future mate. Due to him not finding his mate for many cycles, he focused on honing his skill, reaching new heights that others previously could not. Now he was almost twice the size of a normal mermen, more muscular than the rest of his kind which would usually put him at a disadvantage for being so dense. It did mark him slower, however, that didn’t last long, he had trained his body night and day to be the fastest. Not only that, due to his intense training, he developed a power, a gift believed to be given from the great goddess of the sea. He had gained the ability to not only communicate telepathically with all sea life but he could also manipulate them freely to do his bidding. This made the fear, envy and love of him grow. He was like a God among his people.

Though his people viewed it as a gift, he couldn’t completely see it as such. Telepathy was a very useful skill to have but it was not within his control. It doesn’t turn off and more often than not, it was absolutely maddening. He was subjected to countless screams of pain, secrets he didn’t care to know, hatred, envy, unwanted depraved desires from unworthy mermaids. All of it was simply too much. As a result, he quickly began isolating himself, moving farther and further away from merfolk and into less populated waters. He was hoping distance might somehow help with the constant radio noise in his head. But he found it within an underwater cave, instead.

There cave was huge. It looked like an enclosed beach. There were bioluminescent fungi scattered along the ceiling and walls, giving the cave an almost magical feel. He looked at the beautiful glow of the cave, watching the pool leading to the ocean reflect off of the jagged walls. 

“Magnificent.” He said under his breath. He had never seen such a wondrous sight this deep under water. 

Nero Sol Nifan beached himself on the sandy floor of the cave, slipping his massive silver-white tail out of the water and curling it by his side. The moment he did that the noise in his head quieted down just a bit. It was still ever so present but it took the edge off. 

“Why is it that I was cursed by you, my goddess?” He spoke to the pool of water before him. He was expecting a response of some kind but was met with silence, the surface only reflecting his beautiful, milky face back at him. How he wished that he could go back to the time where he thought life was mundane. 

He sighed and laid himself down on a nearby rock that could pass as somewhat of a diving board. He was angry with the goddess, he cursed her name in his head and his hatred built for this deceitful deity who had taken his sanity. But he needed to rest. 

50 years later~

Nero Sol Nifan woke up to the sound of fish screaming in his head. He never got use to this day in and day out chaotic noise. He looked a little worse for wear since the days before his life became his own personal hell. His eyes looked dull, dark circles have taken up permanent residence under his eyes, tinged with red from the endless stress. His handsome face looked a bit haggard but that was not enough to take away much from his beauty. 

He dragged himself out of his cave and into the water. He hadn’t eaten in a few days, wishing to just parish within the walls of his cave. But today, something told him to go out. He didn’t understand the urgency amidst the buzzing chatter in his mind but he followed his instincts.

The white tailed merman swam out into the open ocean in search of his next meal. He felt uneasy today but brushed it off. It happened to be a rather dreary day, the waters were turbulent and a bit colder than normal while the world above was crying heavily. He knew that he could simply manipulate any fish to come to him and have an easy meal but he enjoyed hunting. It gave him a chance to release a small bit of the madness that he lives with daily on his prey. 

That’s when he spotted a school of red snapper fish. The bright color caught his sharp lilac eyes in an instant and he was off. Speeding quickly in their direction, with his large tail pistoling him forward. The smaller prey was easily more elusive than a larger catch but he made quick work of them. Keeping up with the fast changing paths of the snappers, he allowed the chase to go on a tad bit longer than necessary before slicing through the school with his massive claws, skewering 8 of them onto his claws. That was enough for a meal so he indulged right then and there as the rest of the school swam off. 

He was pleased, this meal would sustain him for the next two days. With a full stomach, the handsome merman lazily began his journey back to his cave. Had the water been steady today he would have basked in the rays of the sun instead. 

“Unfortunate.” He grimaced to himself.

He didn’t get more than a few feet away from his original position when he heard and unusual crash behind him. The white hair merman turned tin the direction of the sound and what he saw confused him

“A human?”

‘What was a human doing so far away from land?’ He thought to himself. There were no ships in the water, he would have seen it. Heck, he would have heard all the fish nearby chattering about it. His tired eyes landed on the sinking figure and his heart tightened. He felt something akin to panic start to take over him. It had been so long since he had felt anything outside of rage or pity for himself. He had the human in his arms before he even realized that he moved to catch her.And just like that, his world grew quiet. Nero Sol Nifan’s face grew into an incredulous look and his body trembled. 

“I can’t hear anything anymore.” His eye expanded in shock as he slowly looked down at the human in his arms and his grip tightened around the creature’s body. 

With a clear mind for the first time in ages, the merman blew a large bubble around the girl, encasing her within the translucent orb. He swam full speed to his cave, reaching there in record time. He pushed the bubble to the surface of the pool and burst it, catching the being and resting her on the crystal like sand. He brought his head to her face and listened carefully but no sound escaped those lips. 

“No!” He cried out. ‘I will not lose my salvation the moment I finally have it.’

 He gripped the creature's shoulder and shook hard a few times, noting how small and fragile you felt in his hands. Unfortunately, that did not work either. His panic rose because he thought that the human might have died so he placed his hand on its head.

“Still warm.” He whispered and that knowledge calmed him. Thinking quickly, he performed the maneuver that he had witnessed sailors use on their own kind on several occasions by pressing his palm on breast bone and applying pressure repeatedly. He was careful of his strength, knowing he could break such weak bones easily. It took about 30 seconds before the human's eyes flew open and it sat up, coughing up water.

‘It actually worked.  Thank goodness that I was able to preserve this human life.’ He sighed with relief. The merman eye the frail thing as it continued coughing and sucking in air, he could only see the back of its head from where he sat. ‘It looks so weak compared to the ship dwellers.’ His thoughts stopped there because that object of his quiet thoughts turned to face him and met his inquisitive gaze. 

The moment their eyes met, his cold heart froze. It was as if time stopped in that moment as he looked upon the tiny human. She was female, with thick, long h/c hair clinging to her face and back. Her dazzling e/c eyes sparkled like jewels with the tears she had yet to fully shed and a small coral pink lips that attracted he wished to touch. His heart started back up and it throbbed in his chest. He never thought his cold heart would beat for a human. His body felt so hot from the top of his cheeks to the base of his tail. 

‘What is this? My body feels so hot. Almost like it is mating season yet different. I feel drawn to this creature. Could this be my mate? Is this what all my suffering was for? To make sure that I was kept pure for this little human?’ It was uncomfortable but strangely pleasant. It was like nothing he had ever felt before but he decided he liked the feeling. It was exciting. ‘So this is my mate. I have cursed the goddess of the sea everyday for the past five decades because of this damned curse but she not only bestowed me with power, she also has gifted me this precious female. I am terribly sorry goddess I have wronged you and been ungrateful and undeserving. I will never look down on the blessing you have provided me again. I will never question you again.’ 

He was so caught up in his own inner thoughts that hadn’t even realized how terrified his tiny mate-to-be looked. She eyed him with fascination and great fear while she inched away from him. He didn’t like that one bit, narrowing his eyes, he yelled at her.

“Stay!” 

But the little female squealed in response, throwing her small hands out in front of her in defense. Her little scream sounded melodic to his ears. He found himself wanting to hear her talk to him so he spoke again, this time gentler. 

“Female, you are safe. I have saved your life. I will not harm you.” He reached a webbed hand out to her slowly, intending to wipe away the tears on her cheeks. But the girl flinched away and started speaking in a rushed manner. 

“Please don’t eat me. Please don’t eat me. I promise I don’t taste good. Even sharks don’t like people meat. So please just stay where you are.” 

He retracted his arm and gave a small smile endearingly. Due to all the excitement, he had completely forgotten the language barrier. He did not understand her at all but her voice was so pretty and soft that he instantly liked it. It suited her feminine appearance well. If she had had a tail, he wouldn’t even blink twice and acknowledge her as a beautiful mermaid just based on her appearance and voice. 

Fast as lightning, he snatched the human's outstretched wrist and pulled her to him. Before she could so much as scream, the merman pressed his lips to her. 

[Chapter 2 is out!]

[dawn-dream-crusader]

DMC boys hedacanons - Sleeping positions

________________

Dante

Due to his non-caring attitude about himself, he dozes off right on his chair most of the time. Legs on table, hands hanging down, a magazine on face instead of a sleep mask. Just how he likes it and just how Morrison usually finds him.

When on couch, he sleeps like a little child, really. It's that one position, when hands are under pillow (even though Dante's is flat like a pancake), legs pressed to chest. He seems to relax more than ever while sleeping like this. Gives him memories.

And when you're with him, he would hug you with one of his arms and pull you closer, so your head lays on his chest, so you could hear his heartbeat, how far he's ready to go for you. Dante remembers a similar picture from his magazine, and chuckles slightly, throwing your arm over his body. These pictures lack sensuality. He pats your head and takes your hand just to plant a little kiss on your palm. You mean more to him than any photo could ever convey.

"Hm? What's it, strawberry? Nothing? Then sleep again. I don't want you to knock out on our tomorrow date."

Vergil

Before meeting up with Dante again, Vergil used to curl up in a ball on ground or a tree to keep himself warm, wrap in his coat, press Yamato to his chest, getting ready for a battle with any entity that would come by. He would wake up from the littlest sound, swinging his sword and accidentally cutting down a tree. There was no rest for him.

After reconnecting with his humanity, Vergil sleeps on a firm bed that Dante bought for him, in his room in Devil May Cry. Now, that he feels a bit safer, he naps, throwing his limbs all apart, still pressing Yamato to his chest, in a grip of disturbing thoughts still covering himself with his coat.

With your help, he slowly becomes more comfortable with not having his katana right next to him. Vergil lays Yamato on ground and finally gives in to his urges: he wraps his arms and legs around you, pressing you closer to him instead of a weapon. He nuzzles your hairline, holding your hands in his, making sure every part of you is warm. As strange as it is, Vergil can't help himself but shower you with compliments all night. He whispers to you, how much he loves you. How much he wants you to stay with him, by his side. Everything that he doesn't know how to say when you're awake.

"I wish I had met you sooner. My star. Maybe, something would change in my life... if you were next to me."

Nero

This sweet boy is definitely what you need, if you like people who kick in their sleep. Every night has the same scenario: Nero throws off his blanket, wakes up from cold and then puts in back on, and in the morning he can't understand how to untangle himself from it. One time he used devil magic and burned the blanket to ashes. Don't try at home.

And with you, he wraps you in. Nero'd sleep at the North Pole with no clothes whatsoever, but he'd totally make you a walking mummy from blankets. Even though he is the best listener, Nero won't let you take your rest without anything to warm you. He's a caring guy, just like his father, but at least, he doesn't suffocate you with his limbs. Nero hugs you and pulls you close, so he feels your breath on his neck. A cute guy.

"Where is this damn blanket.. Here it is. Look, I want you to be healthy, so you don't catch cold. Got me? Nice, baby."

________________________

P.s. Very short. I woke up and decided to write.

[tangytiramisu]

La Squadra React to Reader Crushing on Ghiaccio

Because I love him so much 🥹❄️

CW: None

Risotto Nero

Is pretty indifferent to it. As long as it doesn’t get in the way of your work, it’s fine with him.

Though he would be lying if he said he wasn’t at least a little curious, since most people are put off by Ghiaccio’s aggressive personality but you’re an exception.

Being the observant person he is, Risotto notices your blush and every longing glance you give Ghiaccio. That’s how he knows you like him in the first place.

He may be serious but he’s still caring, so if you seem to be struggling to get closer to Ghiaccio, he will give you advice from time to time. Listen to him. It always works.

If you follow his advice and it works he’s like a silently proud dad.

Prosciutto

Judgmental.

Why Ghiaccio? Sure, he is a good looking guy, but you could have chosen someone calmer and more sophisticated. At least in his opinion. (This is Prosciutto we’re talking about)

But regardless, he isn’t really one to meddle in people’s romantic affairs. The most he’ll do is cast judgement.

Though we all know that he’s quite caring, so if you need advice, he will give it to you. But he’ll make sure you know that your duties come first.

He definitely lifts you up if you’re nervous or feeling down!

He will be protective if Ghia is rude to you for any reason.

Pesci

He’s very supportive!

He may be a little surprised that you chose Ghiaccio, but he won’t question it.

Ghiaccio kind of scares him, but Pesci will be there for you if you need advice! He is also very good at comforting you if you doubt yourself for some reason.

Very sweet and routes for you 100%!

10/10 Wingman!

Melone

Oh he’s having a heyday!

He’s the most obnoxious yet enthusiastic wingman you could ask for. You like his best friend. Of course he’ll want to help.

He will want to know everything. Why do you like Ghiaccio? Is it his cute curls? His glasses? His handsome face? His muscles?

He will tell you whatever you want to know about Ghiaccio. Even information you may not have asked for, like the color of his briefs.

Will definitely ask you if you’ve had sexual fantasies about Ghiaccio. Even if you have don’t tell him about them.

Will constantly make dirty jokes when you and Ghiaccio are in a room together. It lowkey feels like he’s hitting on Ghiaccio for you…?

If you need serious advice he’s actually pretty good at it. He knows Ghiaccio the best out of everyone, so you can rely on him.

Melone will basically tell you to just go for it. Tell Ghiaccio how you feel because he appreciates honesty and straightforwardness. If it doesn’t go well, Melone will gladly make it all better ;)

Formaggio

He’s a little indifferent to it. You like Ghiaccio? He’s a little surprised for the same reason as everybody else, but hey, you do you.

He will tease you a little bit though, but it’s all in good fun.

He makes sure you know that you can come to him for advice.

Like Melone, he tells you to approach Ghiaccio. His methods may not be too helpful though because he recommends flirtation, and Ghia is not the best at handling flirting.

If you and Ghia end up together he’s happy for you! If you don’t, he’ll swoop in and get with you himself ;)

Illuso

Oh he knows before any of the others. Why? Because Man in the Mirror.

He scoffs. Ghiaccio? The ice brat??? What’s so special about him?!!

He’s mostly indifferent but it will cost you half your bank account to keep his petty mouth shut.

If you piss him off he will threaten to tell Ghiaccio. Will he go through with it? Who knows.

Ghiaccio

Look he may be book-smart but bro’s dense as hell when it comes to romance.

Don’t let him catch you staring at him. He will blow up at you without hesitation.

He will notice if you act differently around him but he assumes it’s because you hate him or something. He’s used to people being scared of him but that doesn’t make him any less angry.

Probably treats you as if you’re a nuisance because of it.

Eventually if the secret comes out and he doesn’t feel the same way, he’ll be flustered but may avoid you for some time. But if he reciprocates your feelings, he’ll practically melt.

[ariseur]

Hey, How are you? Just read so many of your DMC head canon and I liked them, good work don't think it's against your rules, if it is, just ignore this.

But wanted to request Dante with fem! Reader who just had a baby girl.... Dante's reaction to having a girl and how he is with a newborn.

dante with a baby girl 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

dante (dmc) x reader (?)

┊ ˚➶ notes ｡˚ 🎼

this has been sitting in my inbox for so long, my apologies!!! this was a really cute request and i love dante sm ugh i have dante brainrot rn

┊ ˚➶ warnings ｡˚ 🎼

babies n mentions of pregnancy ( obviously ), intended lowercase, lmk if i missed something!! 💕

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

❥ let me tell you how cute i think this actually is.. like dante with a little baby girl??? it’s??? just so?? cuteee??22?2?2

❥ i can honestly see dante as a boy and a girl dad, but since we’re talking about girls here!! let me just shed some light on how awesome of a dad dante would be regardless of what gender his kid is.

❥ as a newborn, i can see him being both super goofy or uncharacteristically careful. dante is literally so scared to do something wrong so he leaves most of it to you, but if you use formula for your baby or if.. part demons don’t need milk (?).. then he’ll take over that. it should be easy enough, he says, right? right???

❥ wrong. he let you have some time alone to let you go out and actually be baby-free for a little while and he partially regrets it. the only reason why is because he’s stuck on the couch rocking the baby back and forth while she cries because dante doesn’t know how much to feed her.. which is how he ends up calling you on your alone time

❥ dante’s behavior as a dad depends on how old he is ( what game we’re talking about ). as in dmc 1-3, he’s more so carefree and although he’d know being a dad is a lot of responsibility, he’d still have somewhat of goofy, dumb mindset within him. meanwhile as he progresses in dmc4, he’s learned a lot and has gotten better, so i think this would be the start of a really good era to raise a baby. and then finally in dmc5, peepaw still got it, okay?

❥ while i see dante enjoying his beauty rest, i can also see him sacrificing his sleep to get up and take the fall of a crying baby rather than wake you up and ruin your sleep schedule. dante’s pretty good at entertaining babies for some reason, what can i say?? they just love the guy i guess

❥ even before you’ve had the baby AND after, i feel like dante would pick the goofiest outfits for her omfg. like, you’ll be sifting through the clothes and looking for some cute onesies or something and all of a sudden you hear, “babe—!” and you turn and it’s dante holding up a baby tee with a cannabis leaf on it

❥ dante would absolutely remember his baby’s birthday, and on the off chance he doesn’t and he only remembers because you or nero brought it up or something, he will run on the other side of town just for her. you’ll call him and be like, “you got the cake, right?” and he’ll be like “ohhh, yeah— don’t worry, i got it” and he’s literally fighting like six antenora and hellbats rn but dont worryyy!! afterwards he’ll just stop by the bakery all bloody and ask for the cutesiest cake available and he’ll start showing the baker photos of you and his baby girl. he’ll be like “ugh, they grow up so fast 😊” as he’s picking out demon blood and residue from his air

❥ read a post where it was headcanons about if vergil and dante had a baby that had blonde hair like eva’s and WHOAAA. if dante’s daughter somehow received a recessive trait and she has blonde hair like eva’s, it will pull at dante’s heart strings from birth. he thinks it’s a sign, a sign that she’s still watching over him and that’s she’s there— she’s there enough that you’ve acquired her hair color. he believes her love is just that strong, and that makes him try a little harder every day. he will not let her memory be forgotten, and he’ll tell you and his daughter whatever stories he remembers from when he was a kid, especially ones with vergil ( partially to spite him ).

❥ growing up would be the hardest thing for dante to accept. he’ll always love her unconditionally but it makes him sad knowing that this is the youngest she’ll ever be and the oldest she’ll ever get ( if that makes sense ). but, he’ll always love her even when she’s not a baby anymore. he’ll love her when those onesies turn into t-shirts and he’ll love her when that teddy bear turns into an algebra textbook or a phone or jewelry.

❥ dante will forever cherish his family, and he yearns for that domesticity you two have created with your children. he’ll love you and his daughter regardless, and he’ll always come back for you. he is the legendary devil hunter, of course.

[base0h]

Hayo, I noticed ur blog and fell in love. I was wondering if I could request Smoker, Crocodile, Zoro, and Hihawk with an S/O who is reckless. I'm talking like Luffy kinda reckless. Oh, this berry might be super poisonous? Only one way to find out-

a/n - awww you’re so sweet I’m glad you like my blog 💜💜 oml I’m giggling tysm nero for the request !

Warnings ⚠️ - crack kinda, g/n reader

Opposites attract

- poor man is so tired

- “CROCO- I FOUND A MUSHROOM LOOK LOOK! It matches your hair!! tastes a bit funny though.” You said excitedly, showing your lover the black mushroom

- the color should’ve been the first hint that maybe you shouldn’t eat that.

- but you ate it anyways

- “cool. Cool.”

- “… wait what.”

- he needed a minute

- then it clicked, you collapsed to the ground, coughing and clutching your stomach from the pain

- “Y/n- you ate a random mushroom?!”

- frantically trying to not freak out

- he’s trying to remain calm. but it’s not working

- god the pain was unbearable, your stomach churning but also cramping at the same time

- And to make it better? You might’ve eaten the entire mushroom 🙃

- he’s not a doctor wtf is he supposed to do-???

- literally slapping your back to try and get you to spit it out

- “I ALREADY SWALLOWED IT- STOP OW!”

- you survived, but crocodile’s sanity didn’t lol

- in battles, you were always the first one to spring into action, much to your lover’s dismay

- “Let’s go!!!” You shouted, jumping off the ship, running straight towards the marine encampment

- “Y/N GET BACK HERE-!”

- he didn’t even get to explain the plan yet

- man loves you a lot, so he sticks with you even though you drive him insane

- “y/n don’t you even think about eating that. it was on the ground.”

- “but- 5 second rule-“

- “NO-“

- ….

- *eats it anyways*

- he’s like a wall

- does he ever express emotion to your shenanigans???

- definition of 🗿

- you end up getting into more dumb shit just to see if he’d react

- you could be choking on a poisonous berry, and all he does is fucking slap your back, and you spit it out no problem

- he’s like those magic moms

- he wouldn’t appreciate being called that

- right before you rush to jump off the cliff, he literally just grabs you by the back of your shirt like you’re a tiny cat

- he does it with one hand while he’s reading the newspaper with the other

- not even looking

- you’re honestly tired of trying to get him to react, so you end up falling asleep on him sometimes, exhausted from all your reckless activities

- oh if only you were awake to see how he reacted to this

- he had a soft smile on his face, and he ran his fingers through your hair, softly patting your back and hugging you close to him

- this was the time that he reacted, and you were unfortunately asleep 🙃

- you’re bad for his health

- you give him heart attacks every single day

- Tashigi has started to give him free therapy sometimes

- when you literally jump off the ship before he can explain the plan to you, he has to quickly grab you with his smokey hands

- he has an amazing reaction time thanks to you :)

- “Smokey! I was just gonna take care of ‘em for you!” You said with a smile, hanging in front of your lover

- how could he not forgive you???? He loved you too much to stay mad

- he has to keep you close by, but when you suddenly disappear, and he sees you beating up a bunch of pirates in the distance

- my god you’re going to be the death of him

- all he wants is for you to be safe, and you’re charging straight towards the danger with a huge smile on your face-

- “Smokey!!!! I beat them up for you!” You said, waving at him

- you were sitting on top the pile of beaten up pirates with your big smile that smoker loved so much

- he couldn’t help but smile back with a tired sigh

- he one time almost couldn’t breathe because he couldn’t find you for a good five minutes before you jumped out of a barrel to spook him

- man was so scared he couldn’t move

- “um. smokey are you ok?…”

- it took a good five minutes for his mind to process what just happened, and then he scolded you for another ten :)

- obviously you didn’t listen to even half of what he said tho ��

- I mean he has Luffy as a captain, so he’s pretty used to it

- or so he thought.

- you were eating a mushroom right in front of him, and he looked confused as to what exactly you were eating

- “Did the pervert cook give you a mushroom??”

- “No- mffm. I found it.”

- your mouth was full, and then you swallowed it right when he realized

- "YOU IDIOT-! YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO DO THAT!"

- frantically slapping you

- it left bruises

- "cant you just shit it out?!"

- "I CANT SHIT ON COMMAND MOSSHEAD!"

- chopper saved you, but now Zoro has to accompany you everytime you explore the islands

- you picked up some berries from a nearby bush, and you were about to put them in your mouth

- he bonked your head with his fist, "don't even think about it y/n."

- "OW THAT HURT IDIOT!"

- you hit him back and it started a whole fight

- you won >:)

a/n - hehe these are fun

[icycoldninja]

Can you write a reader who is a jazz singer with the DMC men?

my main inspiration for this headcanon is the ‘Stay High’ cover by Haley Reinhart in the style of 1930’s vintage jazz: https://youtu.be/7hHZnvjCbVw?si=EnbZch_hwT4B-hi1

Maybe it’s the weekend when the gang decided to hang out at a local pub but since it was closed due to maintenance reasons, they decided to hang out at a random jazz bar instead. Turns out, it’s much better than they expected, it’s cozy; the drinks are delicious; the vibes are immaculate but most importantly, the jazz singer is devilishly talented with the way her singing had managed to bewitch everyone’s heart and soul. It doesn’t help when she’s quite a looker as well

Sure!

Sparda boys + V x Jazz Singer!Reader headcannons

¤ Dante ¤

-Dante was just chilling at this new bar that opened up, not expecting much, just some mediocre drinks.

-Then a song began to play and singer had one of the prettiest, sultry voices he'd ever heard.

-Dante was absorbed in your singing, and when the song eventually stopped, he had to admit, he was disappointed.

-He'd heard plenty of talented singers in his lifetime, sure, but you could beat them all any day.

-He found himself returning to that pub several times a week, not for the drinks, as the others at Devil May Cry might assume, but for you.

-When he'll actually get up and talk to you is a mystery, though.

■ Vergil ■

-Vergil didn't want to go to that bar, initially, but he let everyone drag him along because secretly he wants to spend time with them.

-He was sitting awkwardly in the corner like the dork he was, until he heard a new song began to play and this lovely voice start singing.

-He was completely lost in your singing, unable to concentrate on his book, forgetting that he was sitting next to other people, and for a moment, looked up from his poetry to see the face of this gorgeous singer.

-He'd never seen a more beautiful woman in his life. Standing up there, illuminated by the dim bar lights, you looked like an angel.

-Vergil really wanted to introduce himself because if he didn't, you might disappear forever, but he was just so internally nervous, he couldn't bring himself to do it.

-With some nudging from Dante the others, he managed to MOTIVATE himself enough to walk up there and talk to you. He ended up chatting with you for about 15 minutes before walking away with an ego boost and your phone number written on paper in his pocket.

□ Nero □

-Nero was supposed to just be going out for a night with his dad and uncle, not to fall in love.

-But here he was, sitting against the counter of a bar, some lame-tasting drink in his hands, condensation dripping down the sides of the glass as he stared languidly at the stage.

-And there you were, in your lovely white dress, belting out lyrics Nero wasn't really paying attention to. Your voice was all he needed to focus on, all he would ever focus on, if given the chance.

-Dante saw him ready to fall asleep thanks to your singing and decided to punch Nero in the shoulder to make sure he didn't fall asleep. Then he urged him to go introduce himself before it was too late.

-Nero is far too introverted to care; he doesn't have to talk to you to enjoy your beautiful singing voice, so he tells Dante to leave him the F alone.

-Nero keeps coming back to that bar. You've see him so many times, he might as well live there. Perhaps you will be the one to introduce yourself first.

● V ●

-V decided it would be a good idea to walk around and stretch his legs for a bit, and ended up venturing into a pub.

-V isn't one to drink, but after noticing the menu offered cheaply priced tea, he decided it wouldn't hurt to sit and relax a while.

-He watched several shows and listened to a few live songs, but none of them could compare to the splendor that was your singing.

-After hearing you for the first time, V's mind was absolutely blown. You sounded like an angel, a true celestial being descended from heaven to bless his ears.

-V relished the moment; the song had served to inspire him to wrote poetry, right there in the bar.

-While he might never go and introduce himself, but he will keep returning to this bar, just to hear you sing.

[sadlynojellybeans]

So I am re-reading TOA and i have decided to write some things i noticed now that I know what is going to happen next.

THE HIDDEN ORACLE

Meg was about do develop a crush on Percy, and Apollo noticed. It was immediatly curbed by Percy mentioning his girlfriend. He did not even notice XD

Apollo actually got out of the three legged death race unscathed O.o Scared to death but unharmed

Lester is being surprisingly not pathetic??? I mean, he can't remember shit and has the constutution of a limp noodle, but he has not fainted in several chapters!!! Maybe it's because Camp Half Blood is a relatively safe space for them...

THE FORESHADOWING IN CHAPTER 26 IS DEVASTATING - he gets confirmation it is the emperors behind everything and he thinks "i would have rather tangled with Tartarus or Ouranos or Primordial Chaos" APOLLO PLEASE

Speaking of foreshadowing, Rhea?!??!? "Find your center. Enlightenment has to come from within" HELLO??!?!??

Apollo mentioning he caused an earthquake that wiped out most of Sparta and that he never liked the Spartans much??? What about HYACINTHUS???????

"I busted out some footwork the Nine Muses and I had been working on" please I want so bad to see Apollo dance. Especially Apollo as Lester

Apollo being absolutely convinced that he will never have a proper partner is tragic. "It was not in my destiny" bro

The Germani appear and the absolute first thing Apollo does is move in front of Meg. "Instinctively". This is the same guy that at the beginning of the book was evaluating which demigods would be best to keep on hand to throw at quests. I can't. Just how much exactly did he repress his protective instincts through the years and centuries?

I find so fascinating that Apollo wants to strike Nero down immediately after meeting him. Like, yes. Apollo is a god. And he would not allow anyone to threaten what he cares about. Even after his trials, he might be kinder and more attentive to demigods, but I think that anybody who crosses him (really crosses him) will have to start praying for mercy.

If there is one thing I can say about TOA is that it is certainly expanding my musical horizons, with all the songs I have to check out on youtube just to have an idea of what Apollo is singing about.

He did not suck during the confrontation with Nero?! Burst of godly strength saved the day and his dignity

"Just because she had lied about being my friend did not mean I wasn't hers. She was in danger. I was not going to leave her" man. He cares so fucking much. No wonder he never let anybody get close to him in the last years.

Didn't they say a sonnet was worse than a limerick in the next book?

"BLESS HIS CONNIVING LITTLE HEART". "Children of Hermes cannot rap". "[Cecil] was demoted to dancer" skjsjskansnkzbsnsmmsnzm

It's kind of ... sad? How happy Apollo is when flying on the giant ants. He is used to being a god who can fly whenever he wants, and a part of him is usually in the sky every day as he drives the sun chariot. And instead he has been stranded on earth, away from what is both his duty and something he greatly enjoys. "It felt so good to fly again. [...] For two or three seconds I was exhilarated".

AND THE ARROW OF DODONA IS FINALLY HERE AND TALKING FRIENDS!!!!

I cannot believe I am so happy because of a talking arrow

The arrow QUIVERED kjsnsksjsnsnzjxndnsk i love them so much

Not Apollo asking where Jason Grace is 💀

I genuinely cannot understand if this is foreshadowing or really lucky wording on Riordan's part. Rachel asks about Meg and Apollo thinks "She might as well have plunged the Arrow of Dodona into my chest". RICK. RICK DID YOU KNOW? HAD YOU ALREADY THOUGTH ABOUT THAT SCENE IN TBM OR WAS IT PURE CHANCE????

WE WERE ROBBED. I have been wondering for a few days if in TOA we ever see Apollo sing for fun (not to confuse enemies, not to open doors, not for any practical purpose. Just for the fun of it). The depressing answer seems to be no, although I might have forgotten. At the end of THO it is implied that Apollo, Leo and Calypso join the sing-along at CHB, but the fact that the books end before we actually see him sing is a travesty.

[autumn0689]

Lester Papadopoulos is a comfort character to me. I’ve been a huge Percy Jackson fan for years now, and I’ve loved many characters (Grover, Nico, Leo, Percy, etc) and when I first read TOA I loved it, but after rereading it…

I fell in love with Lester, this caring and complex character who had many layers to him, that came off as selfish, and yet just so happened to be one of the most selfless characters in the book.

He’s caring, he’s a former god, he’s selfless, he pees himself regularly, he loves his children, he drowned his ex that one time, he is a god of many things, he has had many lovers. He has so many aspects to him that makes him so interesting.

He has a redemption arc as he realizes that he has made mistakes, but also realizes that he has been abused by Zeus, that it most likely influenced how he view things, and how he may have picked up toxic behaviors from Zeus. He learns to be more human, which is such a beautiful arc to see him go through.

He cares SO MUCH about others. He grieves for Jason and Crest and Heloise and so many other people. He tried to sacrifice himself many times and has many heroic qualities, but he is an unreliable narrator and sometimes what he says doesn’t reflect what he does.

His and Meg’s relationship is one of my favorite friendships in the books. It feels like it’s the two of them against the world at times. Meg cares so much for him while also calling him out on his bad actions (like when they were on Sutro Tower) and Lester cares so much for her as he realizes that she has been abused, that she needs help, and that he wants to help her separate from Nero’s influence, that he is so proud of her for standing up to Nero. They both form such a strong bond with each other and I just- I love them!

He is also absolutely hilarious. I find myself laughing as he is just- so snarky sometimes? He also sometimes know random things? (Like the Goddess of Sewers Cloacina) He is also funny when he has no knowledge on how human things work (like not knowing the price of Tater Tot’s)

He also gets anxious and freaks out and cries and he just feels. He gets happy and laughs and gets sad and laments. He gets flashbacks and clearly has trauma but doesn’t let that excuse his bad actions as he feels guilt for his actions. He can also be quite harsh on himself, blaming himself often and sometimes projecting that onto others (like him saying that Piper is blaming him for Crest’s death??) He is such an emotional character and I love him for that.

I love whenever he gets his godly strength as it starts with small things and then it gets to the point that he can create fire with his hands just by simply mentioning cauterizing a wound and breaking Nero’s fasces and having enough strength to drag Python into the Underworld and is strong enough to hold on just enough to save himself from falling into Tartarus. He is such a strong person who has an incredible pain tolerance.

There are many other things that I love about Lester Papadopoulos/Apollo. I think I can positively say that he is my favorite PJO character. I often reread TOA more than the other books. I love the story and how dark it can get while also exploring the themes of how abuse affects you.

I just- I love Meg and Apollo. I need for fanfic of them!! I need more content of them! Their friendship is so underrated, so when I see people make fanfic of them I get so happy!

I also love the community. The fan-artists and the fanfic makers and anyone who just writes long posts, like me, are so talented and is honestly the best fandom I’ve been in.

I hope the PJO show becomes popular so that more people can read these amazing series. I hope there will be a day that TOA gets adapted, and even if it doesn’t, I still have the audiobooks to go back to.

Thanks TOA fandom, for still going strong, even years after the books ended and new books have come out and are still making fanfic about them. It feels like the books have never ended, like the TOA books are still going on and are still making posts.

I’m so happy to be part of such a passionate fanbase.

Anyways if anyone is willing to offer any good fanfics then let me know!

[animelovelover123]

Devil May Cry Boys Dealing With Your Violent, Emotional Breakdown

Parings: Dante, Reboot Dante, Reboot Vergil, Nero, V x Reader (reader is gender neutral but there are some comments that may seem to veer one way or the other)

This is a weirdly specific idea but it came to mind while trying to calm myself down from an emotional dysregulated episode. I’ve never gotten violent with people but I have trashed some things in my blind panic and rage, so the physical attacking aspect might not be too realistic. I tried.

Disclaimer: This story shouldn’t be taken as a serious representation of mental troubles or as a guide on how to deal with someone who is having an episode.

Trigger Warnings: Forceful confinement. Attacking others and (in one case) being attacked. Mentions of wanting to hurt others and yourself.

Dante

“Welcome home.” Dante greeted, fully expecting the glare you shot him considering he could hear your stomping and cursing from across the street.

Something on your mission had clearly ticked you off and Dante intended to stay out of it.

However, things change when he gets up from his desk and starts towards your shared bedroom, hoping to take refuge there while the storm passed.

You start accusing him of abandoning you and not caring about you.

“Hey now, you know that’s not what this is about.” He keeps up his joking tone, hiding the honest offense he took at your claims.

He knows that once this episode passes, you’ll apologize and tell him not to take the things you say in this state seriously.

But he also knew that right now, in this manic state, you do believe everything you're saying. He has seen it and, once upon a time, felt it himself, the overwhelming feeling that the world and every creature in it are against you.

So he stayed, still intending to let you thrash around to your heart’s content. That is until you yank a Devil Arm from the wall.

“Whoa there cowboy, no need for that.” Even in the hands of someone who couldn’t call upon the demonic power within it, a Devil Arm could still cause some serious damage. Dante may be able to handle quite a bit of abuse and any furniture crushed in your rampage could be replaced, but god forbid you hurt yourself.

He grabs hold of the hand guard and tries to pluck it from your grip but you hang on like your life depended on it, screaming, pulling, swearing, kicking, and clawing at Dante in an attempt to make him let go.

His quips and prods come naturally. He teasingly says things like “Feeling feisty today aren’t we kitten?” and “I didn’t know my sweet little kitten had claws” as the only damage you are able to do to him is giving him a few nicks with a jagged nail you had broken in your rage.

Eventually, he lifts the Devil Arm up and out of your reach.

Instead of hanging there you give up on that one. You let go and make a dash for another weapon lodged in the shop’s walls.

“Alright, playtimes over.” Dante drops the Devil Arm he had confiscated on his desk and wraps his thick, strong arms around your waist, pinning your arms down at your sides. “I’m gonna have to put you in time out.”

He lifts you off the ground with ease and carries you to the couch.

You can kick, scream, and struggle around all you want but there isn’t much you can do while in his lap, your back to him.

He holds you tight, only loosening his grip a bit if you start to wheeze, cough, hyperventilate, or any other action that suggested you weren’t getting enough air.

“That’s it kitten, let it all out.” He coos between your incoherent shouts.

When you aren’t thrashing your head around, he places gentle kisses along your shoulders and up the back of your neck.

As you settle, his iron grip transitions into soothing rubbing, messaging your arms and thighs.

When you finally relax into him and start muttering apologies for your actions and what you said his jokes soon come back in full force.

Not quite immediately though as he first assures you that “It’s alright, your fine. I’m not going anywhere.”

I briefly considered writing separate entries for different stages in Dante’s life, but I felt that the only thing that would really change was how moody he got in response. So instead, I made this general scenario and slipped in some angst. Also, I had no intention of having ‘kitten’ be your go-to nickname but the quips I came up with just fit the name so well so I kept using it ^^;.

Reboot Dante

Mocking each other, playfully arguing, and coming up with creative insults were just a part of your guys’ relationship. Being able to take smack talk and throw it right back was something Dante loved about you. And from your two’s bubbling anger came rougher kisses and better sex so it was usually a win-win.

This, along with having anger issues himself and being a generally confrontational guy, resulted in Dante not realizing that your mood was more severe than any other time you got pissy. If anything, he takes this opportunity to toy with you, having fun lighting your short fuse as you worked on a mission together.

“Aww, you didn’t get that? You know, I’d spell it out for you, but that’s assuming you know your ABC’s.”

“Oh ya, you’re totally glowing babe. But I think it’s from the radiation coming off your toxic ass.”

“You're worth every penny babe. That being said, let me show you to the discount section because I found a spot for you.”

It was all fun and games for Dante until you started making crazy claims with an all-too-serious voice.

You screamed about how much you hated the world, the people in it, and yourself. That was all relatively fine. He agreed with a lot of what you said about the assholes in the world, though not about yourself. But then you started hinting at wanting to hurt yourself.

He tells you to chill out in what may seem like his usually cocky tone but anyone who knew him well enough would have caught the twinge of uncertainty and fear that crept out.

Dante turns away from you, whips out a cigarette, and lights it. “Let’s just get this shit over with.”

Once the two of you were done with this mission and out of limbo then he could get you both something to drink to calm down. Or maybe he would hand you off to Kat.

Out of all the moments for Kat to split off to do something else, why did it have to be the time Dante needed her help the most?

He can hear you stomp after him screaming your lungs out but he isn’t in the mood to yell back anymore.

Dante keeps his glaring eyes straight ahead, his shoulders tense up, and the pinch hold on his cigarette grows stronger, denting the filter.

Then, everything escalates all too suddenly.

His shoulder is grabbed. He is spun around. His cigarette snaps and tumbles into his hand where it quickly burns a hole through his glove and skin. You’re screaming in his face, asking if this is what he wants. Theirs a gun between you two. Dante’s fight or flight reflexes kick in and his instincts choose what it always did.

He slams his clenched fist up into your gut, knocking the air out of your lungs. You drop your gun and crumble to the floor, hands wrapping around your stomach as your desperate attempts for air turn into violent coughing.

“Shit! Fuck! I’m sorry I-” Dante reaches down to you but when you, whether intentionally or not, jerk away from his shaking hand his heart drops into his churning stomach.

“Kaaaaat!” Dante turns and takes a few steps away from you. “Kat! Where the hell are you?”

“I’m here Dante.” Kat's white lucid form comes sprinting around a corner at the rare sound of panic in Dante’s voice. “What happened? Are you guys okay?” She quickly notices you curled up on the ground fighting for breath and rushes over.

“Get them out of limbo.” He orders, unable to look at your now crying face out of shame.

“What about you?”

“I’ll stay here and finish the mission. Just get them somewhere safe. Help them.” Because God knows Dante can’t. He’ll just fuck up more than he already has.

I believe that reboot Dante would, by far, be the worst at handling violent emotional breakdowns. This man can’t keep himself in check when walking down the street half the time. There is no way he can navigate someone else’s emotions. But now that he has you, Kat, and Vergil (people that he wants to protect and keep a positive relationship with) he is trying to reign in his anger around them. Bad habits die hard though. That was my thought process.

Reboot Vergil

It started with you and Vergil worrying over something having gone wrong on your recent mission. This includes your own failings, which he will point out and calmly instruct you on how you could have done better.

When he notices that you are getting far more riled up about this than usual his own negative comments lessen and eventually stop when you take on a doomful mindset.

At first, he stays calm, telling you that “things will be dealt with”, “everything would be fine”, and “no need to get so worked up”.

But as you kept yelling and start stomping around, he grows impatient, telling you to go cool off somewhere else as he tries to gently lead you out of the room.

Not taking this well you fight back, getting up in his face and screaming at him.

He doesn’t back down though, standing up straight and glaring down at you. He shouts your name at you like an angry parent trying to assert dominance and instill slight threat.

When you suddenly start physically attacking you catch him off guard and get a single good hit on him, a punch to the jaw. Any attempt after that though he easily blocks or evades single-handedly, his other hand holding his sore jaw.

He doesn’t try to grab or restrain you though, not until you turn your violence onto the objects around you two.

Ungodly amounts of irreplaceable documents were spread around the room. Terabytes of data on encrypted memory sticks. Stacks of incriminating papers. Ancient and fragile books. All were so easily destroyable and it was all the same to you in your blind rage.

So, begrudgingly, Vergil retrieves one of the pairs of handcuffs used by The Order from a draw and wrestles you into a sitting position. He cuffs your hands behind your back and around an unpowered radiator mounted to the wall.

As you thrash and scream Vergil tries to do something to distract himself, some work or making a drink. All the while one of his hands rubs his already-healed jaw as if it could soothe his non-physical pain.

Once your adrenalin runs dry and you are left sitting slack against the wall, Vergil approaches you. He goes down on one knee in front of you, making himself less threatening, though still above your slouched form.

“I’m going to take the cuff off now alright?” He doesn’t proceed until you respond with a quiet affirmation.

He unlatches each cuff separately, taking the time to gently slide each of your hands free, delicately holding your soar wrists which were red and limp from the struggle.

“Would you like something to drink?” He offers as he stands up, still gently holding your wrists, urging you to stand. When you don’t move, he places your hands on your lap.

“I’ll be right back.” He promises, stepping out of the room momentarily. He returns with a mug of water, an orange, and an ice pack.

He lays them in front of you like an offering to a goddess. He doesn’t ask for an explanation or an apology. He doesn’t ask you to leave nor does he leave you. He’ll let you reflect in silence for as long as you need while he works close by.

“If you want to talk, I’ll be here to listen, always.”

This is the first of the set I wrote (though not the first one I thought up) so it is a bit different from the others as I was still trying to settle on a style. He is also the only one in this group that would probably have actual restraining equipment on hand to use on you and would know how to do it. The order does some shady shit so you’re not the first person he has had to tie up. Though you are the only one to get such nice treatment after ;).

Nero

Despite the fact that Nero is guilty of violently lashing out at people and things, he is wholly unprepared for your breakdown.

To him, it started like any other argument you two had. Your voices grew louder, your brows knit together in glares, and baseless claims, threats, and swearing spilled from each of your mouths recklessly. Kyrie was fussing in the background, trying her best to calm the situation with her words.

But then you started to hit things. You punch a wall, breaking through the drywall and knocking things off it. You kicked at tables and shelves, rattling the things on them into falling over or to the floor.

“The hell is your problem?!” He more so accused than asked.

He doesn’t approach you though, yelling back at you from a distance as he felt his right arm flex as the adrenalin in his body was making his arm crave violence, but he wasn’t going to lay a hand on you.

That was his intention, but then you started throwing things. In your blind rage you were just flinging things around randomly, but then you threw a cup in Nero’s direction.

He easily doges with a lean and it sores past him. It shatters against the wall… right beside Kyrie.

She lets out a surprised shriek, jumping back as the broken shards graze her dress though do not cause any damage.

Nero snaps, his protective brother instincts kicking in as he storms over to you.

“Nero, wait.” Kyrie pleads, reaching for his arm but he brushes it away.

“Stay back Kyrie, I’ve got this.” Truthfully, he wasn’t sure what he was going to do but he had to stop you.

“Please don’t hurt them.” Kyrie cries though she heeds Nero’s demand and backs out of the room, knowing that she would just be in the way.

Of course Nero wasn’t going to hurt you. He could never. And that’s the problem. He doesn’t know how to stop someone’s violence without resorting to it himself.

As he watches you scream and throw things, which he makes sure to catch and drop on the floor, while also crying and shaking he is reminded of an angry and frightened child lashing out. You remind Nero of his childhood self.

As a child… what did people do to stop him?

A distant memory of himself and Credo flashes in Nero’s mind.

Now within arms reach you take a wild swing at him. Nero uses your momentum against you, spinning around you and pushing you forward while tripping you so you fall to the wood floor.

You hear the stomp of boots on either side of you. As you prepare to lift up onto your hands and knees, a massive weight lands on your lower back, forcing you back down.

Nero was sitting on you, pinning you to the ground.

Though not totally understanding what had you acting like this, Nero could tell that you weren’t in your right mind and you weren’t able to communicate coherently until you calmed down. So he kept you under control until you two were able to work things out together.

Though he is unable to use his legs, as they were straddling your hips, his hands are free. He doesn’t want to use them though, worrying about hurting you with his overpowered right arm. However, he will stop you from hurting yourself by tossing any sharp object out of your reach and holding your head steady if you start slamming it against the floor.

He also responds to a lot of your accusations once realizing that many of them were, whether directly or indirectly, self-deprecating.

“Broken? What the hell are you talking about?”

“You’re not a failure.”

“You just need to calm down, you’re fine.”

“Of course I love you.”

Like Reboot Dante, Nero has an attitude problem and is prone to starting/egging people into fights. However, Nero has enough self-control to not hit things he knows he shouldn’t. Like, no matter how pissed off he got at Kyrie (unlikely considering she is a saint) he would NEVER lay a hand on her. I wanted to implant that feeling here.

His solution to this is childish (fun fact I got this idea from a past experience where a family member did this to child me when I was having a tantrum) but he grew up having his anger funneled into combat training for The Order of the Sword so he doesn’t really have many experiences dealing with anger any other way.

V

You leave a scratch on the side of Nico’s van by how forcefully you slammed the door open.

“So you’re gonna bust up my van now dickhead?” She screamed, trying to follow you to continue your guys’ argument but Nero wrapped her in a Nelson hold to stop her before she started a fistfight she wouldn’t win. “How about you shove a tampon in before coming back!”

As Nico thrashed, shouting stranger and stranger insults, and Nero attempted to get her to chill out, V silently slid out of the van.

He had stayed silent through the argument, observing the situation unfold but not feeling the need or right to intervene. This decision had been solidified when Nero tried to interject and had only made things worse.

His lack of action, however, did not equate to a lack of concern for your well-being.

“Are they done yet?” Griffon said wearily as he was summoned, having evaporated to safety the moment his mocking comments had gotten him grabbed by the leg and tossed into the front windshield of the van.

In his defense, according to himself, that attack wouldn’t have worked on him if his master didn’t ban him from hurting you.

“Scout ahead for demons,” V instructed while calling Shadow out from the floor. His eyes stayed glued to your form as you stomped down a dirt path leading away from the city and into a lightly forested area. Though with it being the fall season many of the trees were close to bald of any foliage. “and lead them away from any danger.” V added with a stroke to the top of Shadow’s head.

Shadow darted back into the ground and slid after you.

“Alright lover boy,” Griffon took off from V’s outstretched arm. “but I’m gonna keep high. I don’t feel like becoming Thanksgiving dinner.”

“Oh,” V called Griffon’s attention again who had already risen higher than the sparse trees. “and keep an eye out for anything… derelict.”

“Oh-ho! Now we’re talking.”

And so, you were tracked and led through the woods. Griffon zoomed around overhead, signaling to Shadow whenever your path would lead to a pack of demons while looking for an abandoned structure you could ‘play’ with. Shadow didn’t so much push you into any direction, but more so shepherd you through acts like blocking your current path and making attention-grabbing sounds and/or movements along safer roads. And V studied you from a distance, keeping you in earshot while casually avoiding your line of sight.

Though he was following you out of a desire to watch over you while allowing you the space to vent your frustrations, he also found a sort of fascination in your outrage.

The lover of art in him was attracted to pure, intense, unfiltered emotions. As if he was watching an interpretive dance or a slam poetry performance, V studied your movements, your posture, the words you spoke and how you said them, trying to decipher them to understand the underlying feelings from which they originated from.

By the time you finished tearing apart the remains of what was once a cabin, he had a firm grasp on what had truly set your heart ablaze.

He doesn’t approach you until you slump to the floor in exhaustion. Your head lolls back as your tired muscles surrender to your weight. You start to fall back but are quickly caught by V’s arm sliding around your shoulders and supporting your neck.

He flouts down to one knee as he lowers you onto the awaiting Shadow, the feline’s warmth and silky coat cradling around you as your new support in this almost laying position.

As your body and consciousness fight over whether or not to sleep here and now, you feel a soothing warmth glide up your cheek.

“Rest now love.” V’s fingers glide up the side of your face and into your hair. He could discuss his theories on what feelings deep in your heart had caused you this pain after you had recovered your strength, even if that meant sleeping under the fall sunset somewhere deep in the woods. “I’ll be here to watch over you.”

This was the last one I wrote since I am still getting a grasp on V’s, and his familiar’s, mannerisms. I think I did okay. This one ended up the longest and I blame this on integrating Griffon and Shadow, which I also think I did okay writing.

Also, I debated whether to have Griffon present as you fell asleep, maybe cuddling up on you for warmth, but I feel like he would talk your ear off and not let you rest so I left him out.

[soupbabe]

Taking La Squadra to the Zoo

Anon asked: La squadra X Reader relaxing at the beach or zoo on a hot day? (Separate) also I love your other works!

Thank you!! I thought the zoo one might be a bit more fun, I tried to vary everyone's experiences 😅😅 I hope this is okay

Formaggio

- Would be the one to get everyone kicked out

- Formaggio would try to impress you by breaking into animal enclosures, using Little Feet to sneak in between the gates and fencing

- It just doesn't stop at going "Hey Y/n look at me!" He will shrink down a tiger and take it home with him

- He'd drag you around to various food stalls just so he can hide animals in the little souvenir cups

Illuso

- He's such a whiny princess. Drag him to the zoo and he will complain the whole ride there

- He'd rant about how the animals probably smell bad and how bad of an idea it was to go to a crowded space on a hot day

- But y'know. If you surprise him with brown bears and a cold drink in a matching bear cup he might change his mind.

- He'll still act like he doesn't want to be here, he might call the souvenir stupid and childish, but he'll cling onto it and give his thanks in the car ride home

Prosciutto

- Going to the zoo isn't Prosciutto's first option, but he definitely isn't against it

- Y'all take forever going around certain trails and exhibits because he insists on reading every plaque there is

- Prosciutto also insists on taking photos everywhere, especially if you find your favorite animal!

- I think he has a better time relaxing when he's making a photo album of the trip than actually going to the zoo

Pesci

- You two spend hours in the petting zoo

- Pesci is absolutely in his element, he's fawning over the goats and horses with a giant smile on his face

- Would get so excited if he was able to hold an animal!! He's practically begging you to take a picture of him holding a chicken

- His second favorite place is the aquarium (naturally)

- Pesci's eyes are like stars when he stares at the fish tanks, the whole time he'd be rambling and telling you various fish facts

Melone

- Melone is a very easy going guy, he's down to explore every corner of the zoo. But he does have one exception: the reptile house

- He's terrified of snakes, I don't think he'd forgive you if you brought him in there (let alone try to hold one)

- Melone would spend so much of his time in the gift shop

- He'd coo and fawn over the variety of plushies and so would convince you to wear matching t shirts

Ghiaccio

- To no one's surprise, Ghiaccio created a schedule for the both of you.

- It's something he prepared for days before the little trip, he's meticulously planned out lunches, when it's best to see animal shows, etc

- Regardless of the strict schedule he sets up, I think you two could still find a way to have fun. He still prioritized your favorite animals and exhibits

- You don't need to take a group tour from one of the employees when Ghiaccio is a walking encyclopedia. He'd smile and feel proud when you'd compliment him and tell him that he taught you something

Risotto Nero

- Another man who would find so much peace in the petting zoo

- He'd be holding a rabbit, letting it nestle into his strong arms, while he glarea at anyone who would want to take it from him

- He'd hesitate before leaving to see the other animals, but that rabbit was already the peak of his day. It was so soft, I think it had him understand the purpose of therapy animals tbh

- Risotto might consider getting a rabbit of his own, bringing it up throughout the day. If only his day job wasn't so unstable, he would've loved to come home to see you taking care of his beloved pet

[sephirthoughts]

Vincent's New Kid Just Dropped CH 13: Deepground Flashback and Present Day, Sephiroth and Cid get a little screentime

RATING: this is a pretty teen-and-up chapter

WARNINGS: disgustingly fluffy family stuff, gratuitous reading of Loveless, Genesis being the world's best onii-chan, referenced torture, phantom pain, PTSD, Vincent being an old man, canon-typical Sephiroth sadness

HE'S JUST A LITTLE GUY

brothers 🖤♥️🤍

also keep this outfit in mind

“Self-care is an essential life skill,” Genesis was saying, as he sat at the table, in Weiss and Nero’s room, gently pushing back Rosso’s cuticles, with a tool from the manicure kit he’d produced from a coat pocket. “We don’t groom and dress for others, but for ourselves. Even if you’re not going out, on a given day, you should take a little time to make yourself feel beautiful.” 

“I am not going out any day,” Rosso said disconsolately. “And I don’t care about feeling beautiful, I just want to kill things.”

“Well, live your truth, darling, but self-confidence is an essential battlefield tool. Good grooming habits are a foundational element of self-confidence. Even on the front lines, I always kept my manicure kit with me.”

Rosso appeared skeptical. “You really did?”

“Mn,” he nodded, as he smoothed the rough edges of her fingernails with the crystal emery board. “I consider it a necessary item for survival.”

“A necessary item for survival…” she repeated, gazing dazedly at her newly manicured hands.

When Genesis was satisfied that the girl’s nails were as good as they were going to get, he stowed the tools and zipped up the little case, which had obviously been custom made for him, with an ornate apple tree embossed in the red leather.

“You know what? I want you to have this,” he said, holding it out to Rosso. “You can use it to establish your own pre-slaughter self-care regimen.”

Rosso’s eyes went wide, and she glanced over at Nero and Weiss, who were paying no attention whatsoever. “Me? I can’t…I can’t take such a nice thing, from you.”

“Nonsense, I have a hundred manicure kits. I insist,” Genesis countered, pushing it firmly into her hands. Seeing that she was still hesitant, he added, in a softer tone, “Every girl deserves to have pretty things, little sister.”

That master stroke thoroughly conquered Rosso, who had never been spoken to so kindly, before, let alone received a gift from anyone. She accepted it without further protest, blushing nearly as red as the manicure kit, in her flustered state. “Thank you, b—brother.”

“Don’t mention it. Now then, I think it’s high time we…ahem.” Genesis planted his hands on his hips. “Little brothers? I do admire your unquenchable passion, but if you could remove your tongues from each other’s mouths for long enough to have a conversation, I’d be much obliged.”

“We can talk without our mouths,” Nero informed him, through the darkness link.

“But our sister can’t,” Genesis said aloud. “It is rude to exclude her.”

“They are watching. And listening,” Weiss replied.

“Are they indeed.”

Genesis stepped to the center of the room and scanned the area, quickly spotting the concealed cameras and listening devices, in addition to the openly visible ones. Then he wheeled about, smiled directly into the primary camera, in the ceiling above the door, and raised his middle finger, before he tossed out a sparking and snapping thundara burst. 

Rosso gasped and the two boys gave a jolt of surprise, as it struck the camera dead-on, and went crackling along precise and specific paths through the metal walls, instantly frying all the surveillance equipment, while leaving the lights and other systems intact.

“I do dislike being spied upon,” he sneered, dusting off his hands. “Now, tell me why the hell I can hear you two in my head. And why I get such a strong feeling, as if…I don’t know. As if we’re all actually blood related.”

“We don’t know, either,” Nero answered truthfully. “Weiss and me are half brothers, by our mother. We can talk to you in our heads because the darkness thinks we’re connected to you by blood. Rosso, too, but not as much as you. That’s why I can’t use it to talk to her, without hurting her. But it hasn’t ever thought anyone else is connected. Only us four.”

“Hm. You wouldn’t, by any chance, happen to have a parent from Banora, would you?” Genesis put forth.

Weiss shrugged. “Maybe. Our mother was a scientist here, but we don’t know anything else about her. She could have been from there.”

“I don’t know anything about my parents,” Rosso said, in answer to Genesis’ questioning look. “I only know I was born in Deepground.” 

“You were all born here, then. That makes sense for the three of you, but how do I fit into this little chain,” he mused, tapping his chin with a perfectly manicured finger. Then he shook his head, with a sigh. “Well, speculating isn’t solving anything. I shall have to do some digging around, on my own. I have a sneaking suspicion that behind this thread there will be a much bigger knot, to untangle.”

Weiss studied the young man surreptitiously, as he arched his back in a stretch, then carded his fingers absently through his auburn hair. 

His red coat and leather waist armor hung on the hook by the door, and he’d removed his gloves, before working on Rosso’s fingernails. Now, in only his sleeveless SOLDIER uniform top and trousers, it was suddenly apparent how very hard and muscular his body really was. 

His long, streamlined trench coat, with its black, scarab-wing epaulets, had a minimizing and slenderizing visual effect, on his tall frame. It was the opposite effect to Sephiroth’s huge, white pauldrons and exposed chest, which made his lean and agile frame appear bulkier and more imposing than it was. Sephiroth was almost half a foot taller than Genesis, and somewhat broader in the chest, but the two were actually fairly comparable, in terms of muscle mass.

If Genesis and Sephiroth were built like swordsmen, however, Weiss was built like a heavyweight boxer. He needed no creative costuming whatsoever, to make his body appear more tank-like. The researchers liked to say that all the boy had to do to gain muscle mass was eat and breathe, which was fairly close to the truth. 

“So, you want to fight Sephiroth,” Genesis said, sensing that he was being sized up. “How very amusing that will be. If he doesn’t just kill you, I mean.”

Wiess gave a snort. “Unlikely.”

An auburn eyebrow arched. “So confident. But take care it isn’t baseless arrogance. Remember, we trained together. I have sparred with him, on many occasions. Not to compliment him unduly, but I will tell you now, he is the strongest opponent I’ve ever faced. There is no way to describe him but…monstrous.”

“He is a monster because he is impure,” Weiss said, unconcernedly. “I am not. The corrupted can never triumph over the immaculate.”

Genesis squinted doubtfully. “Purity is a rather esoteric principle. I do hope that’s not all you’re basing your self-assurance on.”

“One way or another, I intend to defeat him. Is that a problem?”

“Please,” Genesis scoffed. “I would like nothing more than to see Sephiroth taken down a peg or two. His ascendancy has gone on quite long enough. But, you’ll have to forgive me for doubting your ability to do that. You may be naturally gifted, but he has years of experience in real, life and death combat.”

Weiss only smiled. “You doubt me because you’ve never fought me.”

“True enough. I suppose all will be revealed when I test you, tomorrow.”

“My brother is the strongest, you’ll see,” Nero put in, proudly, which made Genesis smile and ruffle his black hair.

Rosso said nothing, but quietly hoped Weiss was not making a serious miscalculation. She still wished he wouldn’t do this mad thing, but he was the leader and he’d made his decision. She had no choice but to trust him, and hope for the best. 

All that afternoon, no one came to see about the damaged surveillance equipment, and when the handlers delivered evening meals, they didn’t mention anything about it. Genesis imagined that Hojo was probably fuming, but he seemed to have an understanding with Weiss, and there was no way he was going to risk a full-scale disaster, at this point, by interfering with a bunch of teenaged weapons of mass-destruction, at their slumber party. 

Much later that evening, Rosso had gone back to her own quarters, leaving the other three to themselves. Genesis was seated on the bed, reading aloud to Nero, whose ink-black head was nestled in his lap, and to Weiss, who was snuggled up to him on the other side, with his snow-white head resting on his shoulder, gazing curiously at the first ink and paper book he’d ever seen in person. 

“There is no hate, only joy. For you are beloved by the goddess. Hero of the dawn, healer of worlds. Dreams of the morrow hath the shattered soul. Pride is lost. Wings stripped away, the end is nigh.”

“This isn’t a very nice story,” Nero grumbled, from his lap, rolling his shoulders with their bare brackets, since his metal wings were hanging on a rack on the wall.

“Not every part of a story can be nice, little one,” Genesis explained. “They’re a bit like life. If there’s nothing sad or bitter in them, how can we fully appreciate the sweet parts?” 

“Hmph,” was all Nero said in response.  

Genesis chuckled and petted his head, then returned to reading. 

Despite Nero’s initial grouchy declaration, both boys eternally endeared themselves to the famous SOLDIER, that evening, by listening attentively, through the entirety of the meandering and abstruse narrative, all the way to the end. Even Sephiroth had only done so once, in all their long acquaintance, and he’d fallen asleep halfway through.

“My soul, corrupted by vengeance, hath endured torment to find the end of the journey; in my own salvation, and your eternal slumber. Legend shall speak of the sacrifice at world’s end. The wind sails over the water’s surface, quietly, but surely.”

As he wrapped up his reading, Genesis heard a sniffle and looked up from the book. He was astonished to find Weiss wiping away tears, from his silver-blue eyes. 

Weiss saw that his unwonted display of emotion had been noticed and scowled sullenly. “The end is too sad. I don’t like it.”

“But it hasn’t ended, yet,” Genesis pointed out. “How do you know it’ll be sad?”

“What do you mean? There’s no more written, after that. The pages are blank.”

“That is one of the most intriguing things about this work. It was either left unfinished by the original author, or that part of the text hasn’t been discovered yet. Who can say what the ending will be?”

“It doesn’t matter if we don’t have it written out. I know it’ll be sad,” Weiss maintained. “The end will be about sacrifice. That’s the theme, the whole way through. Even if the world is saved, someone will have to die saving it.”

Genesis tilted his head. “And that makes you sad?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Weiss paused, struggling to clearly frame his ideas. “Because…only someone who deserves to live would give up their life for the world’s sake. Tragedy is inherent in the very act of heroism. It makes me sad that someone so strong and brave has to die, to save all the weak, undeserving people, who will never know, and never appreciate it.”

“Hm. You are very astute,” Genesis remarked. “It takes most people much longer to decipher the themes in this work. But, might it not be the case, that true heroism lies in self-sacrifice, for its own sake, without expectation of recognition or reward?”

“Maybe, but that only happens in fantasy. I would never sacrifice myself or my brother, for the world’s sake. Even if we didn’t deserve life, I’d take it for us, with my own hands, and destroy anyone and anything that stood in the way.”

Genesis smiled archly. “I think, little brother, that would make you a villain.”

“I’ll be the best villain, then,” Wiess declared staunchly. “Being a hero sounds stupid, anyway.”

By way of reply, Gensis laughed aloud and leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek.

It was the first time anyone but Nero had dared to so boldly assail his person. Weiss was startled by the gesture, but found that he didn’t exactly dislike it. No, in fact, he rather liked it.

He nuzzled his head back into the crook of Genesis’ neck, to conceal the color that had risen in his cheeks, and mentally added him to the list of people who were allowed to touch him in a familiar way. It was now up to a grand total of two.

Nero, meanwhile, not wanting to be left out, sat up and presented his face for a kiss, too, which was duly granted. Neither of the boys had any way of knowing that this was the most affectionate Genesis Rhapsodos had ever been, with anyone. Including his own parents.

That night, the three newfound brothers talked and debated and laughed, well into the small hours, and eventually fell asleep together, in the narrow bed. Three heads lined up on the pillows, white, black, and red, with little Nero in the middle, safely enclosed in the arms of Weiss and Genesis.

Some time in the early morning, Sephiroth appeared silently, to check in on Nero. There he still stood, as the indigo sky lightened with the approaching dawn, gazing down at something, with a strange expression in his catlike eyes.

On the bed, his little half-brother was sleeping peacefully, in the arms of their father, who was also fast asleep. Two pale, beautiful faces, in repose, so like to his own and yet so unlike. 

Sephiroth had never dared to touch his biological father. Never dared to reach out, to ask for anything, to make even the slightest nuisance of himself, for fear of shattering the uneasy peace, in which he was somehow allowed to remain here, with his infant sister. 

But his brother, who had done nothing but kick and curse, and make his detestation of the whole household loudly known…he was embraced. Held. Soothed and comforted. Nero was treated like Vincent’s son, while Sephiroth was little more than a lonely specter, haunting this happy home. 

They were wary of him, he knew, and viewed all his actions through a lens of suspicion, because of what he’d done. It would be useless to explain that he had been out of his mind, possessed by that creature, and deceived into committing atrocities. The atrocities remained committed. Innocent people were still dead. Exculpating his own guilt would help no one and repair nothing. 

Ironic, that they should fear him, having no idea that the most dangerous man on the planet spent every moment paralyzed with fear, of being cast out from among the only family he’d ever had. Of being cut off from humanity, left to drift through existence, alone and untethered. To become a real ghost, and eventually to fade away.

His entire body and soul ached with longing to be embraced by his father as well, but that was foolishness. He needed no such coddling, he reminded himself. He was a grown man and Nero was a child. Younger than Cloud, by several years.

His cold, flickering body warmed and became more tangible, at the thought of his fiery-tempered and sharp-tongued darling. The only one who had held on, through the madness, and refused to let go of the man.

Cloud was all he needed. Cloud’s love was more than enough to keep him alive. He didn’t need his father’s love, as well. That would just be childish greediness. Tacit acceptance of his presence was all he could hope for. It was far more than he deserved.

Like a little alarm clock, always set to the same time, he sensed Ollie begin to stir, and knew that it was six-fifteen on the dot. With one more lingering glance at his sleeping father and brother, he vanished into purple-black vapor, to retrieve the warmed bottle from the kitchen, and begin his daily tasks. Quietly attending to the things that would otherwise lie neglected, in a house full of men.

“Yeah, I seen ‘em, plenty of times. Usually they’re bein’ used to couple old tech to new tech, where there ain’t compatible connectors.”

It was a little past noon, and Vincent had come to find Cid, in his workshop, out back.

“Newer OS uses a emulator program to talk to the old tech and make it all synch up.” Cid ran a hand back through his hair, giving a shudder as he recalled the metal brackets in Nero’s back, surrounded by deep, ugly scars. “I guess hookin’ up a human body to a machine is pretty close to the same principle, but…god damn. You’d have to be a sick fuckin’ bastard to do that shit to a kid.”

“Can you do anything?” Vincent asked. 

“Don’t know. Maybe. There any way to find his wings?”

Vincent shook his head. “They were obliterated with everything else. I wish I’d known this would be an issue. I’d have been more careful not to leave them behind.”

“Only other way would be to get into Deepground’s system and look for files or anything that might have info on the design.” 

“We should contact Reeve, then. He downloaded Deepground’s entire database, wanting to study its AI program. If there is anything about the prosthesis, he’ll have it.”

“Oh great, he’s studyin’ the fuckin’ AI. Just what the world needs more of,” Cid grumbled, as he lit a cigarette. 

Vincent tilted his head to one side. “What’s wrong?” 

“I just…I don’t get how ya can be so calm about this, Vince,” Cid answered, blowing out a plume of blue-white smoke. “That’s your kid in there, out of his mind and in constant pain, ‘cause of some monstrous shit Shinra did to his body, without—” He broke off and looked away, clearing his throat. “Sorry. Sometimes I…I let myself forget they did that same shit to you. If I didn’t, I’d be angry all the goddamn time.”

“You are angry all the time,” Vincent said affectionately. 

“But like, even more angry all the time.”

“Thank you for worrying about Nero. I know he hasn’t been easy to deal with.”

“He’s your son, baby. You’re my husband, so that makes him my family, too. That’s the deal. That’s what marriage is.”

Vincent only answered with a stiff nod, but Cid was well aware that in Vincent-language, that meant he was suppressing some strong emotion, that he was unable or unwilling to express, at that moment. That worked out fine for Cid, because it usually meant he’d express it later, in private, which was bound to be a lot more fun.

Unable to help himself, he hooked an arm around his husband’s narrow waist and pulled him closer. Vincent’s long hair hung loose and free, half over his face, and he had his red headband on, like usual, but he’d started wearing more ‘normal’ clothing at home, which today took the form of a red v-neck, haphazardly embellished with a number of inexplicable and completely unnecessary zippers, and with a long, frayed and torn hem (all of which made it look suspiciously like his cloak). 

His clothing items almost always featured similar signs of damage, despite the fact that he’d created them himself, in the moment, and it was literally impossible for them to have collected wear and tear. Same with his faded, black jeans, which were slashed all over like they’d been in a knife fight. He looked a hell of a lot like one of those guys on the rock’n’roll posters, in the 80s, come to think of it.

“Hey babe, y’ever listen to Guns N’ Roses?”

“No. I assume it’s a musical group?” Vincent ventured. “Rock’n’roll, from the sound of it?” 

Cid snorted with laughter. “Fuck…you’re such an old man. They’re only one of the most famous bands of all time. Hottest shit goin’ in the 80s and 90s.”

“I spent the 80s and 90s sleeping in a coffin, under Shinra Manor.”

“Ain’t no excuse for cultural illiteracy, Vinnie. Specially since ya look just like one of them rock’n’roll dudes.”

“No, they look like me,” Vincent scowled. “I’ve looked like this for thirty years.”

“Mm, true. Who knows, maybe Axl Rose wandered into the basement and saw ya sleepin’, and it inspired the fashion of a whole generation.”

“Hmph. Axl Rose is an absurd stage name.” 

“That’s his real name, sugar dumplin’.” Cid searched up a picture of the band on his phone and held it up for Vincent to look at. 

“Oh. That does look rather like me,” Vincent admitted. “Does he also wear his headband to conceal a scar?”

“Maybe. I never seen him without one.”

“Cid…why did you say the person who attached Nero’s wings would have to be a sick bastard? I understand it’s gruesome, but we’ve seen many such things. You seem especially upset by it.”

Cid hesitated. “It’s cause…in order for the nerves to be spliced in right, they’d have to do it without anesthetic, and keep him awake, the whole time.” 

Vincent’s black brows drew together. “Oh. I see.”

“I’ve seen a lotta shit, but never anything that fucked up. Fact the kid lived through it is…I can’t decide if it was a miracle or a cruel joke.” 

“It was Chaos. His regenerative factor comes from the darkness. I wouldn’t call it regeneration, so much as indestructibility. More like my body, than a SOLDIER’s. But he does feel pain, normally. If he is like me, he does.”

The mood was growing heavy, so Cid changed tracks, to lighten things up. “Since we’re on the topic, you think you got a lot more kids lurkin’ around, out there?”

“There’s no way to tell,” Vincent said, shaking his head. “My DNA was taken and used without my knowledge. But, knowing Hojo, I somehow doubt Sephiroth and Nero were the only ones. He liked to have backups. The question is, whether any others survived.”

“If so, we’re gonna need more space. And, even if Seph and Nero are the only ones, Ollie’s gonna grow outta that nursery pretty quick. So, I was thinkin’…maybe it’s time we started fixin’ up the old Valentine property.”

“You hate that place,” Vincent objected. “You called it a creepy Dracula castle and said even ghosts would be afraid to haunt it.”

“I stand by that. Didn’t see any ghosts, there, did ya? Point proved.”

“I don’t think that’s logically sound.”

“The point is, ain’t no sense in just lettin’ it sit there gettin’ dustier and creepier. ‘Sides, it’s your family’s home, ya know? Wouldn’t it be nice to have it all cleaned up? Just in case?”

Vincent very nearly smiled. “Of course. Just in case.”

THE AUTHOR HAS SOMETHING TO SAY

yeah i put the stray dog outfit in there WHAT OF IT

next. chapter

[moodyseal]

i hear you are 🤡clowning🤡 over Commodus coming to his senses so I have slid into your inbox to 🤡clown🤡 with you about it

What 🤡clown🤡 thoughts have you been harboring about this👀

for science.

🤡<-me and you

SOMEONE WILLING TO CLOWN WITH ME A BIT okay uhm. I was mostly having thoughts about the reasons for his behaviour, actually, and in the end I came to the conclusion that he's not entirely unredeemable, or at least he wasn't up until the fight at the Waystation in TDP, where he became a serious threat to the lives of the people who lived there (and actually got Heloise killed)

Like, if you ignore for a moment his past deeds and historical background (because if we accepted the atrocities as quirky parts of Apollo's personality we can do the same for him /j) and look at what he actually did for the first two thirds of the book, you'll notice that he wasn't as cruel as, say, Caligula or Nero. For example, he didn't kill all the prisoners he was holding captive, like Caligula would've done, even if Georgina (and maybe Hunter, since she's one of Artemis' hunters) was the only one that was actually useful in luring Apollo in, and at the end of the book he was still agreeing to let everyone go as long as Apollo and Meg went with him.

This shows that he is capable of some kind of restraint and not totally incapable to be reasoned with, which makes for some solid villain redemption arc material; the only problems, other than his small bloodlust problem that, again, we'll skip over for now and deal with some other day, are

a) the behavioural issues his relationship with his father led to (that could've been actually dealt with if only someone told him that therapists are an option today),

b) his ugly, horrid desire of revenge against Apollo,

and c) his narcissistic tendencies, which resulted in him not acknowledging the whole concept of. You know. Other people's feelings and how his actions might affect them.

They're all intrinsically tied together, and as a whole they're the main reason why, in the past as well as after his death and deification, Commodus was unwilling to accept any sort of help or suggestion coming from the people around him, and Apollo specifically. Before his death, he didn't acknowledge that there was a problem with his behaviour at all; to him, his actions were always right, and the people around him were vilifying him when he didn't deserve it, all while trying to suffocate his desires and needs. The lack of his father's support throughout his adolescence only intensified those feelings, and at the same time rendered him all the more vulnerable, making him latch strongly onto anyone he felt like would always support him—Apollo, in this case. Inevitably, the betrayal of the only person he trusted unconditionally (which was done for Rome and its citizens' own good, but was still a betrayal) had an explosive result, leading to Commodus' attitude worsening, him becoming effectively deaf to the guidance of anyone who didn't agree with him (when in the past there was a chance that maybe he would have listened to Apollo, at least, had he intervened sooner) and, finally, him making his life's goal destroying Apollo's life.

Despite the fact that any last bit of love Commodus had for him turned into blinding hatred, though, there were still some feelings in his heart that weren't rage. He didn't show them; on the contrary, he tried to hide them, and that's because they were a sign that there was still some vulnerability left in him—that he cared, to a degree. Had Commodus' revenge been the two dimensional kind, where he didn't give any sign of care about what happened two thousand years before and operated solely on the train of thought of "kill, maim, destroy" even when he barely thought about Apollo being the reason he died, I wouldn't have thought of there being a chance of him coming to his senses. But instead, with these feelings, Commodus demonstrated that he didn't forget, and that as much as he hid himself behind his glitter and his spectacles and his luxurious palaces, what Apollo did ultimately affected him. He still cared about what Apollo did in the past, and about what he was doing in the present too. In a way (and this is purely my personal perception, as everything I've written above is) it seemed that, consciously or subconsciously, he was even waiting for some sort of feedback, for a response that Apollo didn't give.

Why else would he insist so much? For what other purpose would he throw back his death in Apollo's face again and again, if not to get a reaction out of him?

I don't actually know how, exactly, it would be possible to fix all these issues, as well as their relationship. I have thought a lot about a scenario where Commodus realizes he's in the wrong, where Apollo manages to bring him to the good side just like he did with Lityerses, and this behaviour of his is exactly the reason why I never figured out how it would happen. How do you help someone who doesn't want to be helped? Apollo tried and failed, didn't he?

Maybe not enough.

It's true that Commodus was a selfish, arrogant man, as it is true that Apollo tried to help him, only giving up on his insistence when the man he loved went down a path of no return. It's also true that he didn't reprimand him for what he did once, trying to get to him through good humour and support, being too permissive when Commodus didn't need permissiveness, but some strength of character from someone he trusted. It's also true that Apollo never apologized.

I don't remember much about TDP and TTT, but didn't Apollo never mention once to Commodus the reasons for what he did? He cried about that day on his own, never with him, never showing Commodus that he has suffered for that murder just as much as he did.

Maybe the apology wouldn't have changed anything, maybe Commodus would've stayed the same ruthless man he's been for the whole series. But I like to think that it could've potentially stirred something inside him anyway.

[who1ssheesh]

Paint me burgundy

Pairings: Xanxus x Artist!S/O

Snippets (not really connected) of you both being pseudointellectual snobs. Xanxus likes classics, you like suprematists and other stupid things he doesn't.

Warnings: some suggestive and violent themes, swearing, nor beta-read; self-indulgent, S/O has specific traits. some references are quickly explained right in the text lol just in case, they are marked in a red color. not specified how he met the reader and i dont care much

A/N: first of all, I love to headcanon Xanxus being a fan of classic and very expressive art, and second of all, YES this is a very self-indulgent + YES its Xanxus again + i don't care + L + ratio, at least i had fun. Actually there is also "Paint me azure" with Squalo in my drafts, please please please let me know if i should keep it with an artist s/o or switch to some other artistic skill </3 or maybe that idea is a really bad one to begin with lol

Some would say art for Xanxus is merely a bullet hole in a canvas, but they completely miss the point that he in return to that statement would himself a Lucio Fontana of the mafia world.

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Being raised in a high-society - he would say that word with a snort though - he is around art a lot, and you should give credit to Timoteo who tried to educate his son and open all the possibilities no ordinary man can ever afford.

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Xanxus has such a delicate soul. Like a silk string, tense and easy to rip. Sometimes daydreaming about dying a poetic death to be remembered for generations. "What an artist dies in me", he mutters expressively while smoking a cigarette on a balcony viewing the old Venice.

Quote on an Emperor Nero, said before he died. Known for tyranny, cruelty and debauchery, he had a big passion for art. And still he proved himself as a good ruler until he devolved to despotism and cruelty after his mentor died. Nero delved deeper into art, forgetting about his duties which led to his demise. Emperor found out he was going to be assassinated and said the quote before slitting his throat. Does Xanxus see himself in Nero? Maybe he doesn't want to but he does. A lot.

After that Xanxus laughs. He will not die.

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Xanxus is inevitably intertwined with death. He remembered seeing Caravaggio as a child. A big canvas looking at him threateningly with an unknown feeling of dread, leaving deep red in his memory. Latter works beckon him with the despair hidden in them, and this was the first time in life Xanxus was left...breathless.

Being the famous artist Caravaggio is, his life was filled with tragedies due to his aggressive character. He was exiled from Rome after killing Tomassoni and in the end, though there are a lot of rumors, historians are convinced he was killed by Tomassoni family in revenge. His works after the incident noticeably shift tone.

Xanxus realized he likes burgundy.

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Xanxus develops a taste in a bold art. Something aggressive, not afraid to challenge the viewer. He likes gems that shine silently, being able to catch the eye only of the knowing one who understands its value, not a colored glass attracting every fool with its...vulgarity, i'd say. Xanxus loves himself too much to be surrounded surround with anything but the best.

Still not an "accepting modern art" level of bold art but he will go there if he wants or not.

You haven't considered yourself a suffering artist. It's easier to day that you are not the artist than to spend all the money you have on a way too expensive materials to profit...nothing. You could leave that a little cozy dream to achieve in life - to have a small studio of your own.

But for now you can appreciate the art of the greatest. Or so you think, because a bored Xanxus accidentally turned out to be in a museum right next to you in contrary thinks you're an idiot.

"You're looking at a fucking black square", he says almost disgusted for no reason.

"Well, you're looking at me looking at a black square. Who's better?"

Xanxus barks a laugh.

"What's the point though?"

"You want a boring one or a funny one?"

"I'm too sober for a boring one."

"Imagine it's like...a background of a Caravaggio painting. You're standing your back to the main painting and looking at the blackness. You know what I mean?"

Xanxus smirks.

"Let's go."

"Where?"

"I need a shot before I hear your other bullshit."

A manifesto. Suprematism being the new step for the philosophy of things - exploring not the outer shape but the true meaning of it. A simple square being the beginning of all shapes. "A quadrangle", you call it. "It's a square, you idiot", Xanxus tells you. The first name being the quadrangle because there were no right angles to show a dynamic form in a static quadrangle, you explain. Xanxus doesn't answer not knowing if it's fucking stupid or equally genius. Black square for economy, red for revolution and white for a pure action, which one would be you?

"Red", Xanxus says confidently.

"Why not all of them? If you mix them all...let's roughly say it's something pretentious like burgundy".

He likes that. Why choose when Xanxus can have all. And he likes burgundy. A lot. Maybe he even could like suprematism with your bullshit. He doesn't like economy at all though, but the sound of having all at the same time is good.

Xanxus has never gave a shit about architecture. His architecture is having a lavish house and a comfortable expensive bed to fall asleep after too much drink. Or work. Or both. Not long ago having you in the bed naked was added to that wish list.

But "never have a shit" doesn't equal to "never knew".

"I would make a fucking impluvium in m'house", he lazily gesticulates a square while comically standing in the center of your small apartment which, you feel, has Xanxus as a pretty much a resident. You're not sure how to hide an absurd ton of alcohol from your visiting family and friends or what to do with his sour strong cologne trail. But should you bother at that point?

"Why?", you snort.

"Why the fuck not?", he moves closer with hand in his pockets and jokingly threatens you. "To be filled with the blood of virgins or sum, duh".

Your laugh fills the room, and Xanxus feels at peace. Sort of, he still doesn't have an impluvium filled with the blood of a hundred virgins.

Xanxus is fully aware you are an artist of a huge potential. He pretends he didn't see your albums here and there filled with his sketchy portraits, and deep down he can't understand how you...like him so much? How you notice small useless things to the point of learning exact pattern of his scars and somehow also add some shitty sappy poetic-my-ass comparisons.

So judging that he was expecting something pompous of you for his birthday, especially after his "Just do me all cool in a suit, naked whores here and there, dead Sawada on the wall instead of a tiger skin and Squalo on his knees.", and still he is convinced that is going to be your life masterpiece, a magnum opus.

But here he is, Lussuria showing him an unpacked painting of... a burgundy square. Some of the guests starts whispering that it's some mockery.

"Boss, it's a square of all things?"

"It's a quadrangle, you idiot".

Just in a couple of days there is a bullet hole in the painting, but you would be not a xanxus-said-idiot but a real one to expect something different from your pretty extravagant man.

No matter how hard some people try to hide it - Fran was too late with his illusions, Lussuria was scared for your "soft" heart and it feels like even Squalo has some pity towards you - you're still here, looking at the ruined canvas with...not sadness.

"I like that", your eyes shine while looking at whatever you can call it now. "Ever thought about Lucio Fontana? He was the first one to use canvas as a piece of work itself, not as a base for the art. Aggressive and not afraid to challenge the old ways, isn't that Xanxus as a whole?"

"He used a sword to cut the canvas, duh!" Squalo screamed while taking his leave clearly being offended with that comparison.

Since that day if someone says art for Xanxus is merely a bullet hole in a canvas, but they completely miss the point that he in return to that statement would himself a Lucio Fontana of the mafia world.

He doesn't give a shit who he is and doesn't understand whatever the hell he did. but at least rich idiots believe when he says it's some extremely expensive unique art piece.

He has his own manifesto in a way.

[peggy-sue-reads-a-book]

Ok, kids (e.g. miserable and traumatized adults) I’m going to level with you real quick. “Suffering for Christ is fun!” And “the heart is deceitful above all things” are fucking dogwhistles and the absolute basis of fundie brainwashing. Right, ok, watch this:

A list of Bible verses intended to encourage folks under violent persecution under Nero are cherry picked to make you feel guilty for whatever way religious control isn’t fun for you. Christ can handle Roman torture so you can surely handle _______.

Now you feel bad about, say, your massively gay longings, because repressing them can’t possibly be as awful as Jesus’s death.

Which by the way was your fault.

If that sounds wrong, it’s because your judgement can’t be trusted.

In fact, it’s a privilege to be unhappy because Jesus was unhappy, and we wanna be like Jesus.

Also you killed god sooooo 👉👈

DO YOU SEE THE PIPELINE? Do you fucking see it?? Read it again if you’re not sure.

Ok, guess what else:

Jesus wasn’t unhappy. They called him a drunk and a glutton because he was so lit at his friends’ weddings.

Canonically, jesus had a lot of sex worker friends and you don’t hear him giving them shit. All his dialogue is in red btw, it’s pretty easy to find.

Jesus spent a lot of time with groups excluded by previous dogma and repeatedly let his disciples blow off textual rules when it better served those around them in their present context.

He’s really pretty emphatic about food security and healthcare. As in bending the laws of physics to get lunch for strangers and cure them of weird diseases. It’s pretty neat.

I don’t know or care who Jesus Christ is to you, but I’m just gonna set the record straight that he was killed in a rough way after hoofing it around the Middle East with his twelve weird friends and some hoes. Do and think what you want but for the love of God, don’t let a mofo in front of a praise band use my guy to guilt trip you out of basic happiness and humanity.

Anyway, I am a Christian adult. This is what I and plenty of other Christian adults believe. I have 0 desire to control you or your relationships, I do not believe in hell, much less that you, precious beloved child, are going there. I am shouting at you hopefully over anyone who tells you that you are not enough and you deserve the pain you are in.

I love you so much. I wish you joy and nonviolence and authenticity. I wish you healthy food and cool tattoos. I wish you someone to love and loyal friends and an acceptance and a dope fucking jacket. I love you so much. Please be free, glorious, beautiful creature. It’s ok to be happy.

I might not be your mom but I am a mom. For what it’s worth, you deserve the world exactly as you are. If someone else disagrees, fuck that guy. Literally fuck that guy.

Palestine is being bombed the shit out of and the Orange One is running again. These are bad times. My blog is a safe space for you.

If it would feel nice to have someone pray for you, you can always reach out because I will 100% not condemn or pressure you to be any kind of way you’re not. You’re ok, dude.