#nero would be neutral but he likes the smell

[belovedbythevoid]

  ❝ i wonder if my f/os have a problem with me vaping . . . just every so often, i guess. i think some of them wouldn't like it, so they'd probably ask me to do it away from them, and i would obviously respect them, but i don't think the others would mind all that much. same with occasionally drinking, though i don't drink; i think if i did, they wouldn't mind so long as i was careful about it . . . ❞

[istharoth]

ooohh for lyca what if like .. when he realizes he has a crush on [reader] & tries to figure out how to confess !!

Anon Imma be real with you, I had too much fun writing this. wc: 1k | They/Them pronouns used - Gender Neutral Reader. | NOT Proof-Read. if it's OOC FORGIVE ME, I can't write him well :((

Love is not on his radar, he's never felt it, nor is he familiar with it. The only love he feels is familial, it's only for Neros and Subaru. But when the Inspector came into his life, things were different. The first two weeks, he wasn't used to it. He wasn't used to someone walking him to class or someone waking him up or sending them messages throughout the day to ask how he was doing.

They were so…strange. Like a puzzle piece he couldn't figure out, they were only someone he liked drawing.

Most times he found himself doodling their face on the edges of his notebooks, other times he found himself staring at them as they served the customers in Rui's bar. That always led to Rui shrieking because he wasn't cleaning the glasses correctly. Never mind all the times he would barge into the room they once stayed in because he missed their scent. He knows one thing though, whatever he feels for the Inspector, he's never going to utter a word about it to the blond gigolo or the Casanova.

"It's love," Rui almost spits out his coffee while Lyca drops his spoon, mouth ajar but still filled with food. "W-Wait a moment, Ed!! You're telling me the doggo is in love?!" Rui slams his hands on the table, eyes wide at Edward's incredulous statement.

"Don't call me doggo!" Lyca grumbles, blaring at teeth at the reaper. Seriously, why wasn't the vampire asleep?! He was never awake in time for breakfast so why today?

After a few moments, Rui ultimately calms down though that doesn't stop him from worrying if it was one of his customers. His thoughts are haywire, was it Lyca's first crush? Did he know how to approach it?? Does the person like them back? What if they don't like him back and he locks himself up in his room?

"I don't like anyone," Lyca breaks down the wall of worries Edward had built up for Rui. Realizing nothing was wrong, Rui calmed down and let out a sigh of relief.

He doesn't like anyone so why did the Casanova call it love? Walking through the grounds of Darkwick, numerous scents hit his nose, some harsh, others too sweet, some too sweaty and finally only one different. He can recognize that scent anywhere, it's that of the Inspectors. Following the scent, he sees them with two Frostheim students, one smells like gummy bears, and the other smells like the deodorant Rui uses.

He wants to approach them but at the same time, he doesn't want their friends to dislike him. He doesn't want to cause problems for them. Just when he thinks of turning away, they call out his name, "Lyca!" They wave at him with a toothy grin, unlike all the condescending smiles he gets from his classmates, unlike the awkward smile he's getting from their friends.

He feels his heart race, faster than it ever has. Something erupts in his mind and he's sure his face and ears are red. This was bad. This was really bad.

He didn't want the vampire to be right but he also didn't want to not fall for the Inspector. It had to be them, the only one he could like.

"How do you confess…?" The best person to ask anything was Subaru, he was absolutely sure Subaru knew what to do but seeing Subaru's flushed cheeks and mumble that he did not know kind of crushed his spirits.

"This is true love! My how marvelous!" Zenji's voice boomed in the room, granted only Subaru and Haku could hear it. "It's true love, he says." Haku smiles at Lyca teasingly, slightly wondering who he has a crush on.

"Says who…?" Lyca glares at the air in the corner, something about it makes him feel all weird. "So, you want to confess to your crush? You could ask Rui-San," Haku shrugs but Lyca firmly says no, grumbling something about him being a playboy.

Subaru sweatdrops at the name-calling, he can't blame Lyca though. Rui is a flirt throughout, though the same could be said for Haku. As they say, birds of a feather flock together.

"Give them flowers and if you're too shy to say something, give them a letter." He recites the advice Haku gave him. He didn't know what flowers the Inspector liked…he had to ask someone.

"Flowers the Inspector likes? Hmm…" Rui hums thoughtfully, his hand under his chin as he thinks hard. Had the Inspector mentioned their favourite flower? "If they become a flower anomaly, will they like flowers?" Edward points while drinking water…? It looks suspiciously similar to water, but it's likely not that.

"Fair point!" Rui hits his fist on his palm and then turns to Lyca whose ears were drooped down in disappointment. Why would he suddenly ask for the Inspector's favourite flowers? "…Wait, wait, wait!!" The waits progressively get louder and the other students of Obscuary cover their ears at the noise.

"You have a crush on the Inspector!?" His world is coming crashing down. Lyca liked the Inspector and he couldn't even play matchmaker?!

"The ship is smooth sailing," Edward hums from beside, finally, one of them was taking initiative. He just hadn't expected it to be Lyca but as the werewolf's mentor, he has to be supportive.

"Don't say it like you knew about it before, Ed-San," Rui glares lightheartedly at the old man who simply chuckles, sipping on water.

…Okay, he likes them, he knows how to confess, so what now? He wanted to ask them to meet him in Obscuary but Rui told him it was a bad idea. He needed to confess somewhere more romantic? What is romance? What is romantic? He does not know, all he knows he likes the Inspector more than he did anyone before.

"Lyca!! Sorry it took a while, the line at Sho's food truck keeps increasing by the day." They chuckle, passing him his share of food. Usually they would eat with Subaru but the Hotarubi Captain told him it'll be a good idea to confess on the terrace. The air feels heavy, he can feel his tail wag from inside his pants. Their scent was much stronger than he'd previously noticed, it's not a bad scent, he doesn't hate it.

"I've been thinking but you're allergic to chocolate right?" They ask, pointing at the small box of chocolates between them, "Planning to give them to someone?" Their teasing grin, the softness of their voice, he can't take it anymore. He wants them to know. He wants them to know he likes them.

"It's for you…" He mumbles, pushing a drawing of them into their hands. He should run, he should really run. What if they reject him? What if they don't like him back?

He glances at them, they were already looking back at him, a huge smile on their face. "I like you too," Oh.

They liked him. They liked him. "Shut up," He grumbles, hiding his face in his hands. "I like you too…or something." He mumbles, putting his hand over theirs. They liked him back. They didn't make fun of him or his drawing, they liked it too. His heart races when they intertwine their hands, he thinks they can hear it too with how loud his chest was beating.

[berylcups]

Dolce’s Full Bio 🍭

Name: Sadako Kyari

Allias (if applicable): Dolce

Namesake: Dolce & Gabbana; Kyari Pamyu Pamyu

Nicknames: Dolcezza, Sada, short stack, short cake, cup cake,

Nicknames for others: Bǎobèi, Tiánxīn, Kě��ài,

Age: 22

Birthday: October 12th

Death day: April 2nd 2001

Cause of Death: drowning; falling into the canal from getting disoriented from hypoglycemia

AMAB/AFAB/Intersex: AFAB

Gender Identity: Cis Female

Height: 5’0

Weight: 100lbs

Handness: right

Hair Color: dark navy blue

Eye Color: teal

Type of Voice: soft, lilted calm. Gets higher pitch when angry

Eyesight:. 20/20

Race: Singaporean Chinese and Japanese

Hometown: Bukit Panjan Singapore

Current Residency: Napoli Italy

Moral Alignment: Neutral evil

MBTI Personality Type (Optional): ESTJ-A

Medical & Dental Health: Hyperthyroidism- is always hungry and feels too warm

Did not develop Wisdom teeth

Mental health:

Severe abandonment issues, OCD, Bipolar Disorder,

Scars/burns/birthmarks/tattoos: Dog bite scar on right ankle

Criminal Record: 2 murders pre-passione

Awards & Education: grew up trilingual- Mandarin, English-Singlish dialect, and Japanese.

Learned Italian from scratch when she was put into boarding school in Napoli. Excelled in geometry, Italian, and Art class.

Went to college for fashion design and excelled but stopped halfway through due to murdering her 2 classmates that sabotaged her coming of age kimono.

Past Experience:

Dolce had to make the choice of who she wanted to live with- her inattentive mom and stepdad that treats her with contempt or her irresponsible father that pays attention but doesn’t always make the right choices.

She picked her father much to his hidden dismay. She traveled a lot with her father as he took hits out for Dio.

He eventually put her in a boarding school in Napoli Italy so she would have some sort of stability. He would visit every so often about once a month. Right before she graduated he suddenly stopped showing up. She didn’t take it too well, he either died due to the hazards of the job or he abandoned her. She has trust and abandonment issues because of this.

Once she started college she went for the fashion designer path. She made some friends along the way and some who weren’t as well meaning as others. 2 students wanted to get ahead of her and decided to sabotage her fashion class final-her coming of age kimono, basically making her fail.

Dolce snapped. With the loss of her family, her hard work, and now her dream of becoming a designer, Dolce felt like life has no meaning for her anymore. She stopped at nothing to find out who destroyed her work and punish them accordingly.

She hunted down and murdered both sabotagers. She killed 1 in the showers with a switchblade she hid in her nether region and the other in her dorm with a seam ripper.

Risotto Nero ran into a distressed Dolce with a large foul smelling suitcase that she was trying to dump into the Sarno river.

Finding her suspicious he interrogates her and finds out the contents of the suitcase to be 2 missing girls from the news that are partially melted and decomposed including the skeleton being melted.

She begs for his silence and not alarm the police so she can stay in Italy. Him being interested in her stand powers let her slide if she joins his hitman team.

She had a lot to prove to the murderous men but they already had been exposed to Calamari and their strange stand powers and proved themselves to be competent.

So they gave Dolce slightly a little more slack than when Calamari started. Calamari with their forensic knowledge helped Dolce to destroy the bodies.

Dolce being the charismatic and ambitious person she is was able to sweet talk herself into a permanent position in the hitman team. That still didn’t excuse her from the usual teasing from the rest of the gang of course. In order to be a hitman you need some thick skin.

Thoughts on love:

Love is a powerful thing that Dolce obsesses over. She only got any love and attention from her maternal grandparents and their Filipino caretaker until her grandparents passed away from cancer and old age. She was neglected and abandoned by her parents so she feels the need to get love and to receive love intensely. It doesn’t matter if it’s physical, emotional, or platonic love. She’s starved of it and she needs it.

Love is the one thing she cannot buy nor a skill that can be mastered. It’s the one thing she wants more than money or fame.

She’s determined to have a family and a partner and to love them more than her parents could ever love her.

Sexual and/or Romantic Identity: Pansexual;Panromantic- masculine leaning

People they like:

She likes people who are open and honest. She likes surrounding herself with people who know what they want. She’s not interested in those who beat around the bush or are into formalities. Be straightforward with her and she will respect you. On the other hand, she feels the need to protect and befriend the shyer soft spoken people. She wants to be around people who have passion and dedication- people with dreams. She’s your hype girl and cheerleader. She might not know anything about what you’re into but she will support you 100% of the way and take the time to learn about your passions.

She also has a soft spot for the elderly and highly respects her elders, excluding her parents.

People they hate:

Dolce looks calm and calculated but… there are a lot of kinds of people that she absolutely hates.

She hates deadbeat parents. Seeing parents not paying attention to their kids as they beg for affection and attention just set a fire inside her. If she has a chance she’d beat that deadbeat whore/bastard with an inch of their life if she had a chance to without traumatizing the kid. Despite that, Dolce is also hypocritical. there’s nothing more than she hates than seeing a happy family. If she can’t buy or work towards it, it will drive her crazy. She never had loving attentive parents and seeing others get that enrages her. She gets a sick satisfaction from targets begging for their lives and to think about their family. She might torture them more by threatening the families lives too or just outright kill the guy in spite for caring about their family.

She hates anyone who gets in the way of her dreams. She has a strong will and won’t allow anyone to stop her. She’s ambitious to the max. She hates her ex friends/ classmates for sabotaging her fashion designs and bullying her. She absolutely hates Giorno because his dream clashes with hers. She wants the drug money for herself and her team. Despite that, she admires Giornos unstoppable ambition and yet it annoys her and she wants to destroy it. She’s so ambitious to the point of self destruction. She knows she won’t be able to live her dreams if she self-destructs but her desire to destroy her enemies outweighs her desire for her dreams.

She hates Mista because he’s a nuisance that’s in her way. Getting shot in the arm and ruining her shirt already puts you on her shit list. She wouldn’t love more than to see him get frozen to death or watch him melt into a disgusting puddle of filth.

Dreams for the future:

Her true dreams died the minute her final project- coming of age kimono was sabotaged.

In passione her dream is to obtain the drug money and achieve enough wealth and power in order to make her father want to come back and be proud of her so they can be a family again. She also dreams of tying the knot with her partner and having a family. But she wants to be the one to pop the question to her ice gremlin.

Relationships(name a person that they have a connection to and what their relationship is like[friend, enemy, Ex, current lover, family , etc.]):

Kaede Kyari - Maternal Grandmother- Deceased

Hiroshi Kyari - Maternal Grandfather- Deceased

Sachiko Kyari -Estranged Mother

Unnamed Abusive stepfather - Estranged

Rubber Soul - Absent/Deadbeat Father

–

Ghiaccio- Best Friend & Partner

Melone- Best friend

Risotto- Leader

Formaggio- good friend

Pesci- good friend

Sorbet- parental figure

Gelato- parental figure

Illuso- tolerates in small doses

Prosciutto- tolerates in small doses

Quotes (what do they say often? What’s their life’s motto?):

“Wah lau!(omg) ONLY 20 million lira? Between all of us??? No fair!”

“Hěn hǎo!”(very good !)

“Tā mā de!” ( oh fuck/damn it!)

“I am NOT CHINESE. I speak Chinese. I am from SINGAPORE. How about you travel the world a bit mirror man???”

“To take a leaf out of one’s book means to copy what someone else does. The leaf means loose leaf paper, to rip a page out of a book and plagiarize the information. Oh… you still think it’s stupid ? I know it’s upsetting to you but it isn’t worth getting worked up over it, BǎoBèi.”

“God! You know it gets me frisky when you’re forceful and angry!”

Hobbies; fashion design, sewing, knitting, Chinese calligraphy , practicing Italian, teaching Chinese (she can be harsh when it comes to others not knowing their tones),

Habits & quirks :

has an oral fixation- so she’s always sucking on lollipops or chewing gum or sucking on hard candy

likes to pace around the room- hates standing /sitting still,

eats twice the amount of carbohydrates and sugar a normal person eats for her stand,

She is equally Singaporean Chinese and Japanese but identifies more as Singaporean Chinese since living with her father the longest.

Gets up ridiculously early-5am,

Her morning routine must never be interrupted or else her whole day is “ruined”

She has OCD and has some strong superstitions,

She transliterates all of Italian cities and foods in katakana so she can pronounce them better

Others find it “quirky “ or weird but her vehicle of choice is a creeper van. She says it’s for extra storage, but based on the suspicious stains she might have been using her van for “work” as well. And “its all I can afford !” She claims.

Pet peeves: hates writing in red ink-believes ones life is cut short when names are written in red

People not using correct tones for Chinese words-

Cutting noodles and pasta

People only liking things because it’s “popular” and not just liking them to like them. (Ex-liking Rolex watches only because they are expensive)

Misidentifying her nationality

———————————————

Notes: I hope I made my Dolce interesting enough… I’ve been working on her back story for about two years 😭 she was originally going to be a part 4 character but I had a random thought while watching part 5… what if she went delulu for the most feral gremlin looking mofo ever??? Nerds need love too so I slapped her and Ghia together and it just STUCK. I can’t undo it. They are inseparable 😭💖💙 I’m sorry lmao

[candymothster]

Vergil-| A Gentle Touch To A Cold Heart

Want to read dante’s version? Here’s part 2!

Summary: After the return of the Sparda twins return from hell almost a year later, you and the others push the two to relax after having to fight demons for a long time. Beforehand, you were in a relationship with V: Vergil’s humanity in a physical form. And the two kept promises to love each other, even if it is another body and another life. Now, you want to help Vergil relax, which ends in the two of you cuddling in your bed, he can be quite the clingy one when he’s exhausted.

Content Warning: None Content: Fluff Gender neutral reader Words:1256

Masterlist💙 Buy Me A Kofi💙

Since the Qliphoth had fallen, the Sparda brothers were trapped in hell. And with the falling of the tree, has left Red Grave City to slowly rebuild itself over time, leaving the business of Devil May Cry to be quiet. Some jobs here and there from Morrison but otherwise, demon attacks seemed rare now. To Nero, it was a great way to finally relax for the DMC crew. It seemed like a good idea to not have to stress over demons every day.

But now, it has been a year since the events of the fifteenth of June. Nero has been more stressed about trying to find a way to bring his father and uncle back. You’ve promised to help him but today, you’ve sent him on his way to get some groceries. This was to help get his mind off things and keep him busy. The girls, Trish, Lady, and Nico were also doing some small jobs of their own. With Trish taking care of a small demon issue on the other side of the city with Nico and Lady out with Nero.

Laying on Dante’s old couch in the DMC office. You’ve been staying there in your room. Small? Yes. But it was homey for you. With a book in hand, and a warm apple cider steaming away on the coffee table, it was yet another slow day. With the warm smell of cinnamon and a decently clean building, it was Lady’s idea on cleaning the place up while the brothers are gone. In her words Suprise them with a clean home when they get back.

It was getting close to 5 and you had done some dishes an hour ago. A proud smile on your face with the office feeling a lot more like home. But it still felt lonely. Especially with there not being someone on top of you, listing to you reading. You had gotten into a…small relationship with V during those few months where the two halves of Vergil have been split apart. You’ve accepted that you wouldn’t see the poet again but his last words of his to you still stay in the back of your mind.

“I promise I’ll love you in my new life.”

You still get shivers thinking about it, his voice echoing in your mind. The only thing that snaps you out of your thoughts was the door opening. This prompts you to sit up, placing the book on the coffee table. “Nero?” You asked out loud. “Didn’t think you guys would be back so…” Your sentence drew out a bit. You were expecting the white-haired man but. Instead, right before you. Were two of them. At first, you thought it was some illusion, so looking behind them. Oh. There stood Lady and Nero. Oh boy, this will be something.

Two hours. Of screaming from Nero and Dante. From, what you could gather in between the yelling. Was that Dante and Vergil had found a safer way of returning without the risk of demon hordes slipping through? You were quite amazed by that fact, all though. One thing couldn’t pass you too easily about the two. They looked like they went through hell. Literally. Both seemed so exhausted. “Dante,” You spoke up, catching the two attention. You stood up with your empty mug, looking at the two, glancing at Vergil then back at the Uncle and Nephew.

“You and…Vergil seem. Horrible.” This earned a tired chuckle from him. “When are we not?” You only gave him a look, which causes the younger twin to sigh. He gave Vergil a Come on look and the two started walking upstairs before Dante stopped beside you, smiling. “Thanks for cleaning the place up. “It’s no problem. Just don’t mess it up.” He only laughed it off and headed upstairs.

It was around 9. You couldn’t remember the last time you watched Dante eat like a starved dog. The building was, finally lively again. Yet Lady and Trish kept nagging and nagging the brothers to relax the next few days before going on jobs. Dante only argued like a child but you could tell he needed to keep himself busy after a year of fighting for his life. Vergil just kept quiet. Heavy eyebags hung under his cold blue eyes, only glancing up at you once in a while. “Excuse me.” That was all he said before getting up from the table and heading upstairs. This prompts Dante to give you a look to go after him.

You find him. In your room of all places. Just standing there. The room was, a bit of a mess, with a few papers here and there but not as bad as Dante’s room. “Apple cinnamon.” Oh, the candle. “Is it bothering you? I can put it out and open a window…” His eyes.

They just stared at yours. “There’s no need for it. I could smell it during dinner. It seemed familiar in a way.” He seemed to go out of it for a second before catching himself on the bedframe. Gently, not wanting to startle the man. You slowly walk up to him, taking his arm in your hands.

“You should rest.” The elder twin just scoffed, only to freeze when you put a hand on his cheek. Your skin was much warmer than his. It caught him off guard but slowly, he leaned into your hand, eyes closing in pure bliss. Your heart fluttered. Knowing that he is half of your once lover. He nodded in your hands which prompt you to gently take his arm, leading him around to the bed. Sliding under the warm comforter, you held your arms out to him. Vergil slid in, burying his face into your chest, wrapping his strong arms around you.

“A promise is a promise, my dear.” This caught his attention. He looked up at you, slight shock on his face but he masked it by looking down. “You’re talking about what he said. Right?” A chuckle rang in your chest as you gently put your hand through his hair. “I know now. What he was. I made that promise with my lover, you, you and him are now one. And with that, I promised to still love you.” Your lips meet his forehead, and his only response was burying his face into your chest again. Humming, you gently rub his tired back, putting the blanket over the two more,

“Get some rest, my love. You deserve it.” You smiled warmly. Vergil groaned, his hold on your body strengthen, mumbling softly before he fell asleep. You thought for a moment. When was the last time the brothers had gotten sleep? Well, a good comfortable sleep. Getting lost in thought, the slight creak of a floorboard caught your attention in the doorway. There stood the other Sparda brother, looking to the side before back at you. Slowly, you lift the comforter, showing the white hair of his brother. He smiled and nodded before leaving the two of you in the quiet room. The slight smell from the candle on the bedside. Blowing out the flame, you setal yourself in, smiling down at the man who was peacefully sleeping.

The restart to a relationship that you promised to continue with him. Brings a smile to your face knowing the true side of Vergil. You are the only one that can truly bring out his humanity. That lets you know there is still hope for improvement. Just might be a bit of work.

[mooshs-crack-headcanons]

Could you do headcannons of theDMC5 Sparta boys(Nero too plz) having a piece of your clothing and smelling/senting it while they’re getting off? Like say it’s close too their heat and you’re not around

Love your work btw!

Thank you so much I'm glad you like my work! Usually when someone asks Sparda boys in a request I usually would include V as well but since he's Vergil's human half and all, not a hybrid, he wouldn't go through heats of course so he wouldn't be included in this request! Nero's part did get a little bit longer compared to the other two parts than I originally planned 😅 but I still hope you enjoy!

CW: I don't take A/B/O dynamics requests but since I've seen plenty other other fellow dmc writers on tumblr write that demons go through heats and the monster fucker part of me is at least on board with that much but not delving any further this is the closest to A/B/O that I'll write. So if this type of writing makes you uncomfortable please don't read the following! Otherwise I hope it came out okay.

(This work includes: gender neutral!reader)

(NSFW under the cut as always)

Vergil

It's a late afternoon one day when Vergil find himself alone in the office; with Dante out on a job with Nero and you went out shopping with Lady, Trish, Kyrie not that long after. It wasn't very often that Vergil got time for himself these days, after all the Red Grave Incident even after all this time still really affected the world with demon infestations meaning they're to be plenty of jobs to do and after Vergil's realization and guilt he felt as V - he's more than willing to help out and do what he can, even if it means hours and hours of work each day. So it's actually you who told him to take to day off and despite the long back and forth the two of you had he's taken it; today he can just sit down with a nice cup of tea and loose himself in the same pages of Blake's words just as he did as a child.

However something's slightly off that keeps preventing him from that relaxation.

No matter how many times he sits and loose himself in his book he has to readjust himself - switching back and forth between crossing his legs differently and rotating from sitting back against the back of his chair to hunching over, leaning ridiculously far on either armrest. Something still felt off.

Then suddenly he feels suddenly like the hottest circle of hell throughout the entire office - first he takes off his coat thinking that will be the simplest solution but to no avail, then he goes over to the old rocky AC that is littered full of Dante sized fist holes all over the sides of the damn thing but then he remember he's no good with human technology and the last time he touched something of the sort you screamed at him for days about having to buy a new washer, so he just goes with opening a few windows. Something still felt off.

Then it's as he goes to sit back in his chair to finally go back to his reading escape from whatever discomfort he's feeling that he really takes a good look at his surroundings; all the pizzas boxes, the dirty clothes, the tossed aside paperwork, the dust collections on every top shelf - the entire place was a pigsty no wonder why he can't truly make himself relax! No matter how much that Lowell girl helps clean up this drivel mess his buffoon of a brother will always make it right like it was before in no times flat. He should've expected as much, it was exactly the same when they were children. And like when they were children; it wouldn't be long before the mess bothered him so much that he found himself cleaning it up.

It doesn't take long before the front office, kitchen, and many other rooms of the shop are cleaned...or well at least more presentable than what they were; surfaces dusted and polished, trashed discarded, work papers sorted and went through, floors swept and mopped, loose cash and coins picked up and stashed the old piggy bank Dante was given a few christmas' ago from Patty on top of the cabinet, dishes (manually) washed and put away, and finally the laundry from the floor and the rest of the house into the hamper in the laundry room (for someone who understands technology to do) However, now Vergil faced a small problem: his inner turmoil of discomfort still has not left him. A swelling ache of heat scorched through his body, something that felt so familiar but something he...couldn't process him going through again, something as with each growing moment he sits on his brother old busted up couch he starts to slowly recognize more and more with each breath that becomes rocky, every shift of his body that shivers straight to his groin, to every drag through his hair to keep himself grounded. Heat. His season.

Given he spent over two decades in a state of mindless corruption under Mundus' hand in hell and all, to say that it's been an extremely long time since the last Vergil experienced a season is...an understatement. Hell, he didn't even know he still could go through one with how badly Nelo Angelo ruined his body; how it corrupted, twisted, and prevented him from taping into any of his real demonic power stronger than sparking summoned swords into existence (and even that took him some time fo relearn and took toll on his body) and turned him...into that thing. It wasn't until V's sacrifice that really fixed him up and made him whole again - maybe the reason why he found himself in the situation he currently finds himself in.

Now even pre-hell Vergil never really sought out to quell his seasonal needs, it was always some thing he could manage himself by either fighting hordes and hordes of strong demons for the heat's entirety or (and begrudgingly) treat by his own hand, those were the only two options and he refused to find a human partner one: because he felt himself above the sort and two: humans and too fragile and weak to deal with the sort, he can only imagine how much he could possibly hurt you if he even tried - oh that's right, that's another thing, him...somehow explaining this to you. Vergil utters a quiet curse to himself at the predicament. His father damn it all.

With a growl low in his chest and the voice of his inner demon starting to scream at him his eyes hit the floor and a piece of (color) fabric catches his attention. Picking it up he recognizes it instantly: it's one of your shirts, one he must've missed in his clean up. A big part of him wants to get up and put it with the rest of the clothes in the hamper, but even so he finds himself not being able too with how...good it smells. Now Vergil is more than familiar with your scent, for the longest time it's come to be as a comfort to him but right now...he's never smelled something so sweet? Has it...always been this sweet? No this is his demonic hormones driving him out of control, Vergil stop it - he has to mentally tell himself. But yet he can't help but bring the clothing to his face, truly basking in that warm sense of comfort and safety you bring to him.

It's not one of Vergil's...brightest moments, him locked up in his torn apart room with his mattress clawed to shreds with the sharp dark navy talons sprouted on his partial triggered hands desperately working himself while face first into your shirt, with all the growls and roars mixed in with whines and choked out moans that he would normally hide all out in the open.

Your scent smells so fucking good and with every pump of his triggered cock thrusting mindlessly into his own hand he imagines exactly what he would be doing to you if you were here right now. How much he wants mark up your delicate flesh with his teeth from head to toe, to show any other competition, just how good you had it - how you truly belonged to a Son of Sparda and exactly who they would be up against if they tried anything. He wants to fill you up so much his scent of his come in you would to reek to any other demon out there for miles and miles even days after it's gone. He wants to to fit the entirety of himself inside you and to watch you absolutely squirm around it only for him to pull the entirety of himself out and slam it back in to get you to scream. He wants to fuck into you so deep with his wings cocoons around you two and get right up against your ear and whisper every single bit of praise from the bottom of his heart to the second you both meet your end just so you can just realize how much he truly cares.

The closer and closer he gets the more he shoves his face in your shirt and looses himself with his amazing he feels. The pure bliss as keeps imagined himself with you, your scent, your loving and soon it turns everything becomes overwhelming that gets humanly tears streaked down his face. He climaxes with a loud growl as electric blue engery snaps through the air as he fully triggers, come dripping and soaking the sheets below in ridiculous amounts that Vergil has to physically hold himself up from passing out. When radiational thought returns to him he unpops DT and looks down at the state he's in and just how shaky and soaked his thighs are. He drags a hand through sweaty silver hair.

20+ years and he never remembered past...experiences feeling that...intense.

Vergil picks up your shirt from off the mattress, your shirt that was stained with sweat, come, and had multiple new probably noticable holes that weren't there before. He felt awful, how was he supposed to...explain this to you? His heat was most definitely not over, especially when his long it's been since he last truly went through it so how was he supposed to explain all of this?! Maybe he could just leave, give the excuse the phone rang with job and he had to - no. He promised you, he was on break today and he wouldn't take any jobs. He needs to be honest with you about it but...he doesn't know how. He wants you, his demon screams it's need for you to be here.

Asking for help is hard for Vergil, I think everyone understands that, so for him to argue with himself enough to get the old rotary phone in his hand to call and ask you to come...help him is definitely hard on the eldest son of Sparda. Guilt swarms through his gut with every shaky punch of the buttons of your number and even more so with every ring that shoots through his ear as he waits for you to pick up but it's at the sound of your voice when you do answer that makes him weak that makes his plea come out everso easily.

"I'm afraid I need your assistance at home."

Dante

Dante spending the entire day in bed wasn't an entirely new concept, just a thing he does time to time on days he 'takes off from work.' It's on one of these days that Dante wakes up clinging to every blanket, pillow, and stuff animal that might be on your bed and just...lays there unmoving.

Day number six of being away your job you took with Trish and still weren't back yet and with how his mood has been lately he was sick of it. Yes, he know he shouldn't feel this way you have your own career and you take your own jobs just like how he does but god damn he missed you so much that he can just sniff you off the scent of you all over the entire bed, that's the reason he gives himself for not wanting to leave and he shoves his face into your pillow. Then a voice a clarity speaks to him; he knew the exact reason why he's thinking this way - season was approaching him.

Now Dante isn't as young as use to be but he does go through heats once every few years instead of every year like he would if he was about twenty years younger. So he's more than use to these hormonal feelings bullshit, the heat scorching through his body as his inner demon demands him to get on something and go at it like something on hell's discovery channel.

You probably won't be back for awhile longer, few more days tops so he'll just have to treat this one himself like he's done time and time again long before you entered the picture. You've been with him through his heats before and while it might be the hottest sex you've ever had during his seasons, this is Dante after all, he can't help the feel any anxiousness he feels every time you take him in devil trigger - one wrong move is all it'll take and you'll be another voice added to the back of his head haunting him, this is why he's never sought out finding a partner to help him during these times and why it took so long for him to accept your help with it in the first place. He does appreciate it, he appreciates you so for absolutely everything you do for him and he would give you the entire world if you just ask but, a part of it is his...hesitance he's always had with his demonic side. Yes over the years he's come more to terms with it and understand it, hell even to a point where he's surpassed his father but-

Nah, whatever thoughts he was thinking he's not in the mood to think about it any further, just more in favor to reach a hand out to the teddy bear laid on your spot on your side of the bed, it's little beady eye staring back at him.

Dante won you that bear on one of your first dates through a carnival that came through town, you loved this thing so damn every single night since has it shared the bed with you two that the fact it long lost it's right eye became less creepy at some point. Now it just laid next to one of your old shirts staring soullessly back at him, smelling just like you. There's definitely not beating the real deal but there's most definitely a feeling of solace cuddling next to it. It's nice, like your here next to him.

Your scent smells so good that it he could almost taste you. It's just intoxicating that it sparks the heat through his body and sends aches to his groin that he can't help to thrust his hips to find any type of friction from the mattress below but nothing quelling it. A low growl leaves his lips as he he feel his teeth morphing in his mouth and his fingertips starting to sharpen. A loud purr ruptures through his throat as he nuzzle the scent of you; the strongest hit if it coming from the shirt that he can't help but to pick up and absorb your scent. He sighs out a curse, alright this is going to get ugly, Teddy doesn't need to see this.

His hands work mindlessly at himself and your shirt rests in his mouth, drunk in your scent, his sharp scaly palms are already soaked in his come and leaking to the sheets below after one shaky climax after another but none really itching his need. Hot long orange tongue hangs from mouth as he distortion of his trigger he begs; he wants you home he needs you here right now. He bites down on your shirt and shutters with the ecstacy that of your scent washes over him.

He can just imagine you, barely even able to take his fully triggered cock, straddling his hips carefully not to hurt yourself with all the sharp points that just out the sides of his thighs. Inch by inch you take more and more of it, even with the previous prep it's always too much at first that honestly worries him and makes him ask the question if you wanted to stop but every time you smile at him great big with that beautiful amazing smile and you gently touch his face, even with the face of a demon you look so unbelievable loving at him as you promise you can take him. Inch by inch he goes inside and no matter how much pain you're initially in it's a matter of time before it changes to pleasure and that's the exact moment he loves watching the spark change in your eye and you beg for him to start ploughing you. Sharp claws indented on the flesh of your thighs as he throws your legs up and onto his shoulders to go even deeper if that's even possible, your hands flying to tug and pull on his horns. It's all so good, all so good he could cry with how desperate he wants it.

When he comes he comes with a roar and a sudden rip that goes through the air. After panting down from his high and sizzling off his DT, he finds the source of the ripping shoving in two separate parts that they most definitely weren't in before. Oops. Despite the body shakes still in his system he sits back his knees and looks at the...remains (if you can call it that) of your shirt below him, scratching his head. This one isn't going be be very easy to explain is it? Fuck. Well at least it wasn't your favorite shirt? He doesn't think? Dammit Dante.

"...I guess Trish was right telling how much of a mess you must been in since she could smell it from outside."

Your voice startles the shit out of him, almost making him go back into trigger. You have a small tired smile on your face as you stand in the door way, looking at the mess your love is in before you. Before he can even flip the switch to turn the situation around, your scent stronger than any shirt can be, is it sweetest in person. The most comforting. The younger son of Sparda can feel himself turn into mush as you slowly approach closer, yanking your shirt over your head and kicking the bedroom door close behind you with your the heel of your foot.

The moment you stand in front of the bed, you eye your shredded shirt before you can't help but struggle to contain the giggles in your throat.

"That bad, huh?"

"More than you can believe, babe."

Nero

Nero of course hasn't had his devil trigger for long, now only for a short year and there seems to be new stuff he learns about it every day. Like for instance if you hold the charge in for a good few seconds, the pop of it will kill a a swarm of lower class demons at once, stuff like that - stuff he can learn on his own, nothing that any demon whether it be his father, uncle, Trish, or hell even Lucia taught him.

Now on one hand, he wishes they would give advice (though it's not exactly like he asking for it directly in the first place, of bit of that Sparda awkwardness and all) after all they've all had and been using their demon abilities longer than he has, even if all their powers varies in different abilities (but it's the thought that counts) and maybe he can at learn learn...something from. But then on the other hand, he's okay with them not giving him advice especially with the...awkward situation he finds himself in currently. He would rather die then have that embarrassing conversation with any of them about what the fuck is going on with him currently.

The built-in bathroom in the van is rather quiet small, especially for someone whose Nero's size (Sparda height gene and all) Normally it wouldn't really been an issue, he'd just do his business whenever necessary and leave - you know like a normal person. However, with his current predicament; half triggered and desperately jerking off as inhumanely fast in hopes that whatever the fuck was going on with him would just stop...but no matter how many times he makes himself come and he thinks he's spent - that swelling hear surges right back through his body and hardens his cock once more, he quickly found himself becoming claustrophobic shut up in the small room.

How long had he been in here? He wasn't sure. He had to stop at some point; you, Kyrie, Nico, and the kids were inside probably worried about him over dinner. He'd been feeling this weird feeling in his chest all day, it even got him thrown off his style game during the job you and him took today. He couldn't describe exactly what it was but the...heat, the feelings in his chest, the ache, the need, the smell it just...all seemed to intensify the very moment he to get anywhere near you and when you were his hunting partner so off course it's going to make work difficult for him and it didn't exactly take a genius to figure out whatever this was that was happening to him was some weird demon thing. How was he supposed to bring up something like that to you? He didn't, just made his space and tried not to think about it and that's why he stayed out here to work on the van in the first place to clear his thoughts and maybe this...demon thing would just settle being away from you awhile.

Spoiler warning; it didn't. Only made it worse to the point he got so dizzy he had to go inside of the vehicle and sit on the couch, heat tearing through and ripping through his body and leaving him to feel himself as his limb slowly start to uncontrollably trigger; talons ripping from his fingertips and long white hair sprouting out and cascading over his scaly shoulders. Oh and there was a thick barbed dick unsheathing and leaking out of him. That was new.

Things go by...shamefully fast. One minute he's on the couch in discovery of...well demon dick and the next he's shoved and locked himself in the bathroom going to town on himself. His grunts, his whimpers, everything seems to spill out from his lips in distorted need, no matter how hard he tries to keep them to himself every pump of his hand as he imagines himself pummeling into you as you grab nothing but fist fulls of his snowy locks and beg him to go harder and faster fill you up until there's nothing left of you that hasn't been seeped with his come.

Aquamarine arms from his shoulders and a mind of their own scoop down and grab something from the floor before what they grab gets shoved into his human hands. Nero pants down from his last high before he looks down - even before he's aware of what it is your scent absolutely just slaps him in the face. It was one of you shirts, soaked in dried demon blood from a previous job and meant to be thrown into the hamper for Kyrie's special washing cycle specifically for dirtied hunting clothes. The youngest Sparda looked down to it with a shaky sigh as your scent continued to tickle and seduce his demons instinct desires, the occasional red orb falling from the clothing and clinkering to the floor.

Shame heats his face as one spectral hand pump the fabric around his cock, his eyes slammed shut, one set of fingers cramming any noises from leaving his mouth, pretending that this wasn't just him that it was you instead singing all your praises to him in his ear, making him feel so safe and loved, that he was doing so good for you. That's all it takes to push him over his edge all over the bathroom floor.

He sits there for a good few lingering moments after as the shaking breath of his high begins to settle down. Then realization kicks in. Your shirt now resting on his soften yet half hard cock is completely ruined in his mess. Shame slaps back him right in the face. Fantastic fucking job Nero, he mentally scolds himself as he lifts up your shirt and accesses the state of the material. How exactly was he supposed to get this cleaned without any noticing the big ass fucking stain on it. Oh he wouldn't be able to look you, Kyrie or anyone else in the eyes ever again if they found out. Red scorches his face with guilt. He didn't even know what the hell was wrong with him, he couldn't untrigger no matter how hard he tried, he wanted to be honest with you but how the hell was he supposed to do that if he didn't understand his own body.

"Nero? You okay in there?"

SHIT. SHIT. SHIT. SHIT.

"Kyrie saved you some dinner when you're ready. Nero?"

You knock a couple times on the bathroom door, on the other end Nero desperately scrambles to try and recompose himself.

"Out in a minute!"

Then it hits him that he's in partial DT still when his he hears himself. Shit.

Frantically he looks around the bathroom in search for a hiding place he can put your shirt so he can not deal with the embarrassment and shame right away - as he moves around thrashing against his spectral arms that cling onto the clothing and refuse to let him let the material go, knocking tons of things over off the nearby sink.

"Let go! Let go!" He huffs under his breath.

"Are you sure you're alright?"

He doesn't answer you, too sweeped up in the sudden death match he's having with his extra pair of blue demonic limbs.

"Nero?" You call out, unbeknownst to him your hand moving to slowly open the door revealing the scene occurring in the small bathroom in front of your eyes.

The best way to compare the look on Nero's face was to a deer caught up in headlights with how he his world slowed as your eyes bounced around to several places; your now messy with more than just blood shirt being fought over by two sets of hands that all four belong to the same body, to said body's almost full devil triggered state, to the quickly hardening cock in all of it's spiky barbed glory that dripped of both pre and come that seemed to trail to an even bigger mess on the tile floor. You took a moment to gulp down a breath.

"Look I can explain-" Even though he couldn't, even after all of this he still had no idea what the fuck was going on.

"No it's alright. It's uh...normal thing demons go through after all." Your cheeks flushed. Huh?

You look at Nero with a sigh.

"It's uh...a mating thing demons go through. Lady told me about it, she helps Trish when she goes through with hers."

Nero looks dumbfounded, though you couldn't tell at what piece of information given.

"It's called a heat-"

"Like what dogs go through?!" You hiss through your teeth.

"Yeah I guess if you want to compare it to that-"

"Son of a fuck."

Nero slumps down on the side of the tub and holds his temple muttering down a few curses. You go to sit next to him before he noticeably tenses - you hold up you hands and sit a good amount of space away from him.

He shakes his head before asking how long that this 'heat' will last, you give him an estimation give what Lady has told you about Trish's and tell him about a week or so - though this isn't a good enough answer for him.

"So I'm just supposed to shut my self up here for a week then? (Name), we live with five other people in the house three of those being kids - I can't-" You stop him by leaning over and pressing a sudden kiss to his lip, a kiss he melts against.

"You'll be fine, we'll take care of it, okay? Go and take a break somewhere. But for right now and now...if you want-"

You drift as you slowly make your way onto his lap, hands gripped tightly onto scaly shoulders.

"-we can make the most of it."

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[devilish-miasma]

Hello! do you know gokushufudo(the way of the househusband)? For a request, it could be possible Dante and vergil and nero(platonic) with S/O who is like tatsu, the immortal dragon. Excelent and Cook extremely delicious, have scary smile 🤣 and really love and care his boyfriend/ son? Hahah it would funny see the reaction of vergil when nero introduces him to her as his mother, they shake hands and she warns him not to hurt her son(Nero) again. While squeezing him hand too hard (super strength) Thanks!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Ahh hello again. Unfortunately I do not know much of what you’re talking about. I did some research while I wrote this but I would like to apologize for any inaccuracies written here, as my knowledge of this anime is severely lacking.

I would also like to inform you that this was kept gender-neutral, except for Nero’s part. I know you used feminine pronouns when you spoke of Nero, so I tried to respect that. I hope you have a lovely day/afternoon/night and enjoy reading.

Toxic

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Dante

Oh my god, finally, someone who can get Dante to eat something other than pizza and strawberry sundaes.

Devil May Cry has been the cleanest it's ever been since your arrival. Cleaning the shop provided stress relief, cooking, too. So, you have no problem with your job as a housespouse. Though, it can be annoying when the electric is shut off.

Lady and Trish definitely tease Dante about it. Saying that the shop wouldn’t look this good if you hadn’t come around. Though, they do wonder what screws you have loose to marry Dante of all men.

Dante’s not one for finer, expensive cuisine, but he does appreciate the effort you put in meals. Making him meals for when he’s out demon hunting, preparing a meal for when he returns home. It makes Dante feel special, and feeling this way has made him fight harder. It pushes his determination to return home quicker and see you.

He’ll convince you to make homemade pizza. You only learn a recipe because it makes him happy, but you refuse to make a habit out of it. You just want Dante to eat something other than pizza for once.

Sometimes, Dante will come home super late, and he’ll see you at the table, asleep. Gently, he’ll pick you up and put you to bed, only for you to grab him and grumble about food in the fridge. Dante just smiles and kisses your temple.

As nice as you are, you’re also scary. You definitely scare him at times, including those affiliated with Devil May Cry. You have this… expression that demands authority. You even get Vergil to listen to you, and that’s saying something.

“You’re seriously that intimidated by someone so smaller than you, Verge?”

“How laughable for you to assume such things, little brother, when you bat your eye at them and do whatever they wish.”

Dante and Vergil’s fights end quickly now that you’re in the picture. Both of them stop due to not wanting to feel your wrath.

In general, you’re a badass. Once, you caught wind of a demon hunting job gone wrong, and you showed up, guns blazing (literally), proclaiming to your adversaries that you’re a housespouse. Dante has never seen anything hotter.

You are a sweetheart to Dante, though. Very loving, caring deeply for your husband. You lovingly kiss and hold him, his inner demon purring in happiness. The relationship makes Dante feel content, and he knows this is what he’s always wanted.

Vergil

“Ah yes. Me. My spouse. And their ability to make demons cry.”

You’re kind, understanding, and strong, of course he fell for you. You are also unafraid of him. Having someone like that forced Vergil’s walls down.

Vergil built his walls up tall and strong, and you were so, so stubborn and knocked them all down. He’s never felt so safe, so understanding with anyone before. Falling in love with you seemed as natural as breathing.

As sweet and kind as you are to him, your wrath is not to be tested. Vergil is not a man who is intimidated easily, but seeing what you’ve done to him and Dante when they fight made him realize you’re a force to be reckoned with. And he admires that.

Vergil enjoys cooking discussions with you. He loves seeing you become enthused with your craft, seeing how you become when speaking about cooking. Sometimes he doesn’t understand what you’re talking about but he enjoys learning. And you enjoy teaching him.

He’ll sometimes watch you cook. It’s very relaxing.

Cooking for him makes Vergil feel emotions. It is an act that makes him fall deeper and deeper in love with you.

Vergil doesn’t become jealous in your relationship knowing you can put those who flirt with you in their place. Once, Dante flirted with you, unaware of your relationship with him. Dante earned the shock of his life when you announced that you “had a man one-hundred times finer than” him while showing off your ring, and then grabbing Vergil and showing his ring.

Knowing that you’re so loyal also provides comfort to Vergil. He doesn’t know what he’d do if you’re suddenly not in his life.

When he’s out demon hunting with his brother or son (or both), you’ll always make lunch for him. Vergil has taken it upon himself to eat on top of Nico’s van to avoid being teased. Not that it's embarrassing, he just sincerely hates it when his brother does that.

You’re always up waiting for him, even though he tells you not to. You await with dinner ready, and Vergil can faintly smell cleaning products. From earlier cleaning, he guessed. It's a natural, normal thing and Vergil cannot imagine himself coming home to anything other than that.

Nero (platonic) (fem!reader)

You first met Nero at the grocery store, and this sweetheart grabbed something for you on the very top shelf. You met him again out in public when some men were harassing you, which he unkindly told them to fuck off. That’s when you invited Nero for tea, and you’ve adopted him ever since.

You are absolutely kind to him, a total sweetheart. Nero came to your place multiple times for lunch, even invited you to meet Kyrie. You bonded with his girlfriend through cooking, even teaching her a thing or two.

Soon, Nero found himself attached to you. He looked up to you, an older, positive feminine figure in his life, one he thought he’d never have. He began to see you as a mother, and due to how nurturing you were, it seemed natural for those feelings to fall in place like pieces to a puzzle.

With that sweet, caring side was a fierce protective personality.

“Don’t talk to me or my son ever again,” You growl at some asshole. Nero has never felt so cherished before.

When you met Vergil, it was hilarious and scary. Nero already told you about the whole arm ripping off business, and it formed some bitterness within you. When you met, you put on a happy mask and introduced yourself to this stoic, unflinching man. You knew what you needed to do.

As you shook hands, Vergil made a face best described as surprise. Through your smile, an intimidating aura leaked off of you. You gripped his hand with such force it surprised him that you, a human woman, was capable of such strength. Strength that affected a full grown half-demon.

You suddenly grasped his collar and forced him down to your level, your lower eyelid twitching.

“Listen here, mister,” your voice oozed with venom and protectiveness over Nero. “If I ever hear that you’ve hurt my son again, I will make you rue your very birth. Do that shit again and you will regret it. Understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Nero and Dante have never laughed so hard.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Read it on AO3 | Rules | Buy this devil a coffee

[dmcimaginess]

Hello again. I'm hooked on your responses and glad you got your groove back! How would the DMC boys (Dante, Vergil, Nero, V) react to Dante and Vergil switching bodies for a while because of some sort of spell. What can their S/O expect from this? Thank you again for answering my asks and matchup!

Hello! :) ok, for this one let’s pretend that V can live as a separated individual from Vergil, for some reason that i would rather not think of or otherwise my brain would explode(?

--------------------------------

Dante: He would think it’s hilarious as shit. He would laugh his ass off when he sees how angry Vergil is, and will start mocking his brother, much to his annoyance. ‘I...need...more....POWER!’ And when he is with you, he would act as normal, maybe forgetting he is in the wrong body and not getting why you are acting so strange towards him for a bit. At one moment, he tried to kiss you, to which you reacted by freaking out and slapping him. ‘I’m sorry, it’s just so weird!’

Vergil: Oh man is he angry as hell. He can smell his brother.. And he doesn’t like what he is smelling. It smells like shit. ‘You smell like a wet dog...’ he would tell his now-on-his-body brother. He gets more annoyed as the seconds pass and he wouldn’t even get near you, he doesn’t want his brother’s dirty hands near your body, but at the same time he doesn’t want Dante with his body touching you. It’s just a shitshow really. And he would start fighting Dante when he hears him mocking him.

Nero: He would to this thing where you hold the bridge of your nose out of annoyance, breathing deeply and preparing for the storm THAT IS APPORACHING. Honestly he just sits and watches everything with a neutral expression, maybe even reading a magazine. ‘I’m not gonna stop them this time.’ If you are around, just stick with him and try to calm him down because honestly even if he doesn’t express it he is so stressed he may have to try and stop his father-uncle and uncle-father from killing eachother (themselves?) again.

V: The true neutral in the whole situation. He just sits and enjoys the show, letting out a half-smile from time to time. He knows Vergil very well, enough to know how he must feel like right now. He just reads his poetry book after a while, but giving side glances and smiling at the curses of the brothers. If you are his s/o, nothing will really happen, you can sit by his side and laugh together or you can go and try to lighten-up the situation, since you know (kind of) how to calm Vergil down.

---------------------------

-Lettuce

[rukanrin]

V&Nero + DMC Girls||S/O’s Birthday

the title says it all,the title says it all,im making this one because most of you liked the

Vergil and Dante version that was written by ruka

so heres some love to the less loved ones,especially the girls!

reader is gender neutral

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V

V would be the extremely awkward one,asking everyone for tips at like 5AM to make sure everything is set for you when you wake up

This romantic poet would sit beside you,lit candles and rose petals scattered everywhere,just safely to make sure nothing sets on fire specially griffon so that when you wake up,he will start to read you a love poem,if you’re one to like poetry he will write one himself

oh my god he would hold you by the waist and order griffon to fly you both somewhere or travel somewhere in a short period of time using shadow

at the end of the day he would read you something like percy jackson or romeo and juliet

Nero 

Nero would get nico as support,yep,you cant do shit bout that lads

this boy would probably jumpscare you in the cutest way possible

maybe play you a song on a guitar,unless dante gets his hands on it then ooooh boy

will take you out for a walk no matter the weather

be prepared for a banquet of your favorite flowers to be shoved into your face,along with a candy version of your favorite flower

MOVIE MARATHON,this boy would lie on top of you like ‘ya aint going nowhere bitch we watching this’

Nico

YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

road trip and camping in the van? HELL YES

she would mess with your outfit,if youre a girl then she would make you a replica of her clothes in your size,if youre a boy she would make a male kind of suit for you that matches hers

she would shove marshmallows in your face if you ever stop smiling or give you a peck on the nose

the mood decides if shes the big spoon or not,would snuggle with you in the huge ass drivers seat 10/10

Lady

netflix and poptarts

but for real she would love to grab a huge person-sized bucket of sweet and salty popcorn,some coke/pepsi and ofc a shit ton of mac’donalds

now dont get me wrong lady usually would slap anyone who did that,but its your special day and hell no way is a cake going to be enough for you two,let alone sharing the cake with the others

 just a chill stay at home birthday,and lots of kisses and teasing

Trish

This is trish we are talking bout alright

she would drag your ass all the way to hell and back (quite litteraly) if you do not allow her to make stuff for you,will most likely cancel you alarm to keep you asleep while she does the decorating and baking

you would wake up to the smell of your favorite food and a living room full of cushions,a warm atmosphere and a girlfriend wrecking her braincells trying to make more food the way you like it

lets say you wont be able to sleep that night because of the temptation of watching movies for the sake of eating popcorn hope you liked it my lovelies,and this is the twin-owner of this account! hope to get some time to introduce myself soon -Leon

[gastleewrites]

Baking for the Boys

I really like baking, but only for other people. Rarely do I actually eat whatever treats I make, so I thought what if the Sparda boy’s S/O (gender neutral) baked for them ^w^ so here’s some fluffy headcanons~

Dante

you made something for him? he’s automatically touched, doesn’t even care if it’s good or not. he isn’t used to people giving him presents, but don’t get it twisted, he isn’t choked up - there was just something in his eye, okay?

you already took note of the kinds of food he likes, that being pizza, and strawberry sundaes. not very useful information when it comes to baking, so you made the only thing you could think of: a strawberry pie, topped with a generous amount of whipped cream

“It’s round like pizza and sweet like...you” Dante laughs and dips his finger in the cream before touching it to your nose, smiling impishly as you blush

he seems hesitant to actually eat it, and you wonder if he doesn’t like it, but then...”I have to savor it, don’t I?” you shake your head and promise to make as many pies as he wants

bonus: he finishes the whole pie in five minutes (making sure you didn’t want any) and then asks for another. you might have bitten off more than you can chew, but Dante’s smile is all the motivation you need to keep going

Vergil

as with Dante, he is not used to receiving gifts. so much so that he outright refuses, at first, to accept them. why would you waste your time baking for him, he doesn’t even need to eat

this only makes you more determined to find something he’ll really like, that he couldn’t possibly say no to. but you have absolutely no idea what that would be, so you make...everything

every recipe you can get your hands on. cakes, pies, pudding, sweet breads, tarts, flan, hell, you start dabbling in candy-making half for the fun of it. fudge, rice crisp treats, hard rock candy, caramel, candy-coated popcorn, and so...much...chocolate...

Dante asks you if he can sell some of the treats and you smack his hand when he reaches for him, claiming they’re all for Vergil. (who is somewhat amused at the sight)

Vergil sighs heavily and begrudgingly agrees to at least try something, so you can stop commandeering Dante’s kitchen and making the agency smell like a bakery

you watch apprehensively as he takes a small bite of brownie, forgetting to breathe as he chews, but hang your head in defeat when he sets the treat back down with a sigh. 

“it’s...good”

your head snaps up and you can’t help the smile spreading on your face, which only grows wider as you note vergil start to smile back and then hide it behind a fake cough. 

brownies, then. you start to tell Dante that he can, in fact, sell the rest, but Vergil frowns and shakes his head. “no. they’re all mine.” you roll your eyes, knowing he doesn’t even want them, but grinning at the sour look on Dante’s face. to you, the mischievous glint in Vergil’s eyes is the sweetest thing in the room.

Nero

the man packs away food like no other, so you aren’t worried about him rejecting any offered treats - but you want them to be special, all the same

you think about all the time you’ve spent together, on the road, at home, wherever, and you know it has to be a treat he can enjoy on the move.

cookies, then, in every variety you can think of: chocolate chip, macadamia nut, oatmeal raisin, red velvet, double chocolate, any and every recipe you find, knowing that Nero will happily be your taste-tester

of course this means he has to share his treats with Nico, but for the most part she just likes to tease him about having a sweet tooth

you wonder if the teasing secretly bothers him, so one day you ask.

“no” he says, and reaches for your hands, pulling you closer. “besides, she’s right. I do have a sweet tooth. for you”

you can’t exactly complain about the sweetness of his words. after all, his lips are even sweeter when they find yours

V

the only hesitation he has in accepting your offer of baked goods is wondering if you think he’s too skinny

he suggests this with a small grin, but you can see real worry in his eyes, and are quick to assure him that you don’t think that. you just wanted to do something nice for him

this is somewhat harder to accept for the former devil, but V masks it well, taking one of your hands and pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

you think of all the baked goods you’ve ever made and what you think V would like, and finally settle on old-fashioned, homemade bread. it’s something that feels safe, familiar, and maybe would lift V’s spirits more than something sweet

he’s somewhat surprised by your choice but his eyes go wide after his first bite, and you try not to smile too widely in response.

“this is wonderful, love” he says, and you can’t help the blush creeping onto your cheeks as V continues to praise your baking skills. you see the smirk in his eyes and you know he piles on the compliments because you’re blushing

eventually you just hide your face behind your hands with a small squeal, but he gently pulls them back down, a genuine smile on his face as he brings you close. “apologies. it’s just that your blush is even more delicious than the bread”

you’re certain that your face is on fire, now, but can’t quite bring yourself to care as V leans in for a kiss. you aren’t the only one flushed, now.

[blackrose343]

Come Back - V x GN!Reader

Warning: Angst and depression

V x Gender Neutral Reader

4,857 words

Fanfic Summary: This takes place after Devil May Cry 5. You have been depressed ever since V merged back with Urizen. Today, you feel just that and also sadder but have no idea why. You try to get through work but that doesn't work out too well. You're just grateful your friends help you out.

You were lying in bed debating if you were up to going to work or just call out sick. You weren’t sick per se but you knew you felt off. If you had to describe how you felt, you would say depressed but with more sadness. Something about today intensified the sadness but you had no idea what. It’s been a couple months since V “left” but you already knew that’s why you’re depressed. You just had no idea why you felt sadder than before. Nothing eventful or serious happened recently. So, you kept trying to think of why you felt like this. 

You dismissed your alarm as you made your way to the window. You greeted the gloomy view: rain pouring onto the grey world. As you stood there you remembered how your mornings started. V turning towards you trying to reach your alarm. He would purposely push on your head instead of the alarm. You would imitate the alarm until Griffon yelled for you to shut up and shut off the fucking alarm. You would shut it off and lie on V’s chest while running your finger on V’s tattoos. V would be sly and try to initiate morning sex by leading your hand to his lower region. One of your hands would push his head towards you for a kiss. Your other hand would be stroking V’s cock. Before you knew it V would be on top of you and the mind blowing sex would begin. But that’s just a memory. You would never feel his embrace again.

Ever since V “left” your entire world has turned into the view you were looking at: a grey and gloomy blur. At first, you felt angry and sad. You would cry yourself to sleep every night. As time went on, you started to shut down. You did the bare minimum to take care of yourself. You didn’t want to go out as much. Instead you slept most of your free time away. Everyone tried to cheer you up and be there for you but you felt it was futile. Sure Kyrie invited you to hangout with her and Nero but she always does. Everyone always invites you to hangout with them but you never want to. You always assumed you'd ruin everyone’s mood or were just invited out of pity. Before you knew it, you stopped talking to everyone except Kyrie.

You believed that nothing was ever going to make you feel the same as when V was around. V took a part of you and you were never going to get it back. He left a void that only he could fill. The light inside of you was dying. You missed V so much. You missed his voice, his touch, the way he used his cane as a violin, everything. All you wanted was for V to come back but that wasn’t going to happen...not completely. You knew that V and Urizen merged to become Vergil once again but it wasn’t the same.

You didn’t want to continue thinking about the past so you decided to go to work. You stepped away from the window to look for some clothes. As you were searching you felt something familiar. You pulled out a black tank top with a few holes and you knew it was V’s. You took a deep breath and used it to wipe your tears. You don’t know how but it still smelled like him. You fell onto the floor silently crying into the tank top. You missed the times when you and V cuddled while he read poetry to you. Shadow would be lying on the floor. Griffon would be falling asleep or crack a smartass comment about how he already heard the poem V was reading to you. Thinking of those times made you smile but it was bittersweet.

As soon as you got in the office you were told to get multiple documents prepared, signed and mailed before the day ended. You went to your desk and started to mindlessly type the day away. Your subconscious knew what it had to do but you had no idea what you were doing.  You just had to do what you could to make today end sooner.

From time to time your mind would torture you by coming up with daydreams of V coming in to go to lunch with you. He would stand in the waiting area until you caught sight of him. You would jump out of your desk and run to him. You would kiss him so hard and hug him so tightly he would have to ask you to let him breathe. He would look down at you with his devious emerald eyes and sincerest smile. You would try to compose yourself but end up burying your face in his chest. 

Another was Griffon flying up to your office’s window with a bouquet of flowers. Everyone would be freaked out by the giant blue talking bird but not you. You’d blink multiple times to reassure yourself what you were seeing is real, then go to the window. Griffon would be asking you if you didn’t recognize him and tell you to hurry up. You’d look down to the ground and see V. You’d mouth “wait” to him then race out of the office to see him. You would greet him with your biggest smile then drag him away with you not caring where you went. V would pull you under the umbrella with him while telling you he doesn’t want you to get a cold. You would kiss V and tell him how much you missed and love him.

Now you really wanted nothing more than for this day to be over. You were either torturing yourself with work or the false hope of ever seeing V again. You tried your hardest to focus on work but you kept losing it. Your mind wouldn’t let you stop daydreaming about V coming back. You weren’t sure how much more of this torture you could take. 

You looked at the time on your computer hoping you would be able to go home soon. Sadly, your lunch break wasn’t for another hour. You leaned back and listened to the conversations going on around you. You overheard someone mention today’s date. Today was your birthday. V told you he had something special planned for you. You tried to pry your surprise from him but he wouldn’t budge. Every time you asked Griffon snickered.

A co-worker came over to you singing “Happy Birthday” while the rest of the office sang along. Once the song was over she asked if you had any birthday plans for tonight. You tried to keep calm while telling her you had work to do and had no time to converse with her. She wouldn’t budge and kept trying to guess what your plans were. She guessed a party with friends and family but you gave no indication if she was right or wrong. Her next guess was a romantic dinner with your boyfriend. She took your eyes widening as the indicator that she was right. She tried to find out who you were dating while going off about how lucky you are to have a boyfriend.

You couldn’t contain yourself any longer. Of course you knew how lucky you were to have him but that was the problem. V was no longer here; no longer with you. You wanted to scream at your co-worker to shut up but literally bit your tongue. You bolted out of your chair, pushed your co-worker aside and left work. Everyone stepped out of your way. They assumed you were sick so they didn’t stop you from leaving. You didn’t care if you got fired for leaving early without notice. You just wanted to get away from everyone and find a place to cry.

Part of you was driving home with tears running down your face. Part of you was internally screaming and trying to contain it until you got home. Everything merged together creating one giant blur. You honestly didn’t know how fast you were going or which way you chose to go home. As you tried to turn left, you saw something blue. You slammed on your brakes before running anyone over. The blue thing returned the favor by hitting your car bringing you back to reality. He was going to yell how terrible of a driver you are but stopped himself. You both recognized each other.

“(Y/N), are you alright?” You barely heard Nero because of the car horns but couldn’t answer. All you did was shake your head “no”. You gripped the steering wheel tighter and lost it. Every emotion you have been feeling since this morning came out. You couldn’t contain yourself any longer. You screamed so loud that people thought you were injured. Nero reassured everyone that you were okay (physically). He knew how much you missed V. He knew how much it killed you to see him and Kyrie together. He tried his hardest to help you cope with the loss but it was getting harder for him to. 

Your tears were flooding out of you. You couldn’t stop. Nero walked over to your car and tried to calm you but to no avail. He knew he was going to have to drive you home. He opened your car door and put your car into “park”. He then unbuckled you and carried you to the passenger side. The entire time you were apologizing to him for ruining his day and bothering him with your mess. Nero kept reassuring you that it was okay for you to feel the way you felt and you had nothing to apologize for. Deep down you knew what Nero told you was true but hearing some assholes yelling at you to hurry up and get the fuck out of the way didn’t help you.

By the time Nero got you home your voice was completely lost. You were trying to silently cry to yourself. You felt so bad for getting Nero involved. (Also for almost running him over.) You gave Nero a hug and reached for your keys. Nero playfully pulled them out of your reach. He opened the car door to get them further away from you causing him to fall into a puddle of mud. You couldn’t help but laugh. Nero gave you a “what the fuck look” but soon laughed with you.

Kyrie greeted the two of you as you two got inside. She gave Nero a kiss as he headed to your bathroom. She gave you a big hug as she led you to your dining room table. All of Devil May Cry was sitting at the table with a big birthday cake sitting in the middle. You couldn’t believe they were here. You thought they would forget about you since you haven’t talked to any of them for awhile. You looked up at them with a big smile. You were happy that everyone came to see you today. In between sobs you said “Thank you.”

Trish was going to ask how you were feeling but your stomach growled. You haven’t eaten anything today and barely anything for the last few days. Dante took your stomach’s growl as the cue to get himself a piece of cake. Lady just hit Dante in the head while lighting the candles. Everyone sang happy birthday and told you to make a wish. Everyone knew the wish but you didn’t care. If you remembered correctly, the wish would come true if you wished hard enough and didn’t tell anyone what it was. With all you could you blew out the candles and wished for V to come back. 

Lady gave you the first piece before Dante could steal it. Your eyes widened as you took a bite. You could taste what you were eating. It was a vanilla cake with chocolate mousse topped with strawberries. You actually tasted the cake and frosting. It was like your sense of taste popped out of nowhere. 

Before you knew it you opened all your presents and some of you were drunk. You were about to figure out how the present Nico made you worked but she told you she’ll show you later. Wouldn’t want anyone to get hurt. Dante kept trying to convince Nico and Nero that you would be fine but no one was going to listen to him at this point. Patty was on her phone looking up ideas for a new outfit. Kyrie, Lady and Trish were trying to clean up so you wouldn’t have to worry about it later.

Kyrie tried to convince you to let her stay so you wouldn’t be alone for the rest of your birthday but you assured her you were going to bed. You knew she wanted to be there for you but you wanted to be alone. You knew that you overexerted your social battery. You thanked her for cleaning up as you hugged her goodbye. You waved goodbye to everyone else as Nico pulled out of your driveway. You felt bad for everyone when Nico drives. You won’t deny her driving felt like you were on a roller coaster. You just wondered how her van hasn’t broken apart yet and sometimes how she got her license. 

As you cleaned up a couple things you pictured Griffon flying around you asking where his food was. Shadow would be trying to pounce you to get to any leftovers. You would more than likely lose your balance but V would be there to make sure you didn’t fall. He would hug you from behind as he kissed your cheek. You would turn your head so he would kiss you then happily go to the kitchen and put the leftovers away. V would be right next to you doing the dishes. Your mind was going to the sexual route but got interrupted.

Someone rang your doorbell. You saw a delivery man through the peephole. You grabbed your gun as you opened the door. You gave the delivery man a confused look as he greeted you. “Good evening. Is (Y/N) here?”

“That’s me but I wasn’t expecting anything.”

“Ah, well it is a delivery for you from…” The delivery man was trying to find out who the sender was. It seemed like his electronic pad was slow. “Well, my thing must be acting up.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, our records are saying your delivery is from some named ‘V’. I’m guessing it’s a nickname.”

“N-no, that’s his name. I’ll accept whatever he sent me.”

“Sure thing. I have this and one other thing I need to get from the truck.” The delivery man gave you a cardboard box. It looked like it could have contained a book but the weight of it said otherwise. You tried to guess what exactly he would have given you but you saw something red coming towards you. You opened the door wider and had the delivery man follow you to your dining room table.

As soon as he left, you ran to your dining room. Sitting on your table was a cardboard box and a giant bouquet of red roses. A stuffed animal was holding the bouquet and there was a card. You unwrapped the stuffed animal. It was a bat with green eyes. You thought it was the cutest and softest thing in the world. As you were holding him in your arms you read the card. All you could hear was his voice.

“Thou fair hair'd angel of the evening,

Now, while the sun rests on the mountains light,

Thy bright torch of love; Thy radiant crown

Put on, and smile upon our evening bed!

Smile on our loves; and when thou drawest the 

Blue curtains, scatter thy silver dew

On every flower that shuts its sweet eyes

In timely sleep. Let thy west wind sleep on

The lake; speak silence with thy glimmering eyes

And wash the dusk with silver. Soon, full, soon,

Dost thou withdraw; Then, the wolf rages wide,

And the lion glares thro' the dun forest.

The fleece of our flocks are covered with 

Thy sacred dew; Protect them with thine influence.”

“To the Evening Star” by William Blake

Happy birthday, my little wanderer. I will always love you

          -V

You decided to open the cardboard box. Being unable to guess what was in it was getting to you. You carefully opened the box. You took a couple seconds to pop some of the bubble wrap before taking out the present. The box contained what you thought was a silver rectangle, along with an advertisement for the present. As soon as you saw the advertisement you knew it was a picture frame. It was a hinged frame so two pictures could be placed in it. You were trying to think of what pictures to put in it. You thought of the one when Devil May Cry was celebrating a kill so you had everyone in the frame. You also thought about a few from the dates you and V went on but there were a lot of those. V wasn’t a fan of getting his picture taken but he did it for you.

You opened the frame to get a better idea of what would look good in it. You didn’t have to think any harder. V beat you to it. One picture was of you, V, Griffon, Shadow and Nightmare. You remembered that day. You and V were walking through the park trying to get a break from all the chaos going on. V wasn’t too comfortable with you walking around Redgrave City at the time. You kept reassuring V you would be fine as long as you had your weapons and he was with you. You were able to find a swing that was intact so you had V push you. As you were thinking of jumping off V grabbed your waist and pulled you to him for a kiss. Afterwards you found some place to sit and you and V talked about what else you needed to do to complete the mission. To lighten the boredom Griffon pestered you to take pictures of him. You rolled your eyes and did as the little chicken wanted wishing this would shut him up for a few minutes. Griffon tried to get Shadow to join him but she wasn’t in the mood. She went over to you and V hoping Griffon would leave her alone. Nope, he flew to all of you and encouraged you all to get a picture with him. You set your phone to selfie mode but had to get V to take the picture so all four of you could fit in. After you asked V if it was possible to get a picture of all of you including Nightmare. V wasn’t too sure but Nero found you and offered to take the picture if you could make it work. It took a bit of thinking but you figured it out. Nightmare had to lie on the ground with his purple core facing the camera. You and V were sitting on top of him. Griffon and Shadow were at Nightmare’s sides.

The other picture was the Devil May Cry group photo before everyone left to fight Urizen. Nothing too eventful happened for this photo but it was the only one that had everyone in it...except V’s familiars. Patty wasn’t too happy about Dante not coming to her 18th birthday party. So Patty chose to throw herself a surprise party at Dante’s. She decorated the whole place with Kyrie’s help. No one would have believed that was where you go if you were looking for someone to kill a demon or anything. Dante wasn’t thrilled and tried to undecorate the place. That didn’t go well so he relented. Everyone ended up having a good time. 

You were happy with the pictures V chose. It was as if part of him read your mind but you knew that he knew you well enough. You put the bouquet in some water, then headed to bed with your new companion. You started to think of what to name the bat as you got ready for bed. You also wondered how V got those pictures. Okay, you knew others had the group photo from Patty’s party but what about the other one? You knew V didn’t have a cell phone. You don’t remember sending the other picture to anyone.

You climbed into bed with your phone trying to figure out how V got the other picture. You saw all the messages from your boss but you decided to deal with it tomorrow. Before you knew it you were looking at the pictures from your first date, when you went to the fair, along with other places even if it was just to get a coffee. You don’t remember how some of the pictures were taken so you tried to remember those days as best you could. As you were going through your pictures you stumbled across a video. You didn’t remember recording it and were going to delete it but thought it couldn’t hurt to watch it first. Hell, it might explain how V got the other pic. You cuddled the bat, pressed play and heard Griffon’s voice.

“Come on. It can’t be that hard to get this thing to record something? You were able to take a fucking picture with it before.” Griffon was taunting Nero as Nero was trying to get your phone to record. You didn’t remember ever leaving your phone with either of them but kept watching. “Now to find V. Do you know where he is?”

“How would I know? I was helping your annoying ass.”

Griffon was able to find V after flying all over Devil May Cry. (Although he basically ran into everyone else before finding him. You could hear Griffon getting more annoyed each time he asked someone where V was.) V was outside reading from the book he always carried with him. Shadow was lying next to him. She growled in annoyance when Griffon approached them. Griffon started to spout smartass comments. V sighed and asked what the familiar wanted. “Well, since I made it so your ‘princess’ could remember your face I thought I’d make it so she can remember your voice and of course mine.”

“What are you talking about?” V closed the book as he talked to Griffon. V was confused. He thought Griffon decided to record a conversation between them for your sake. You were partially hoping that wasn’t the case. So you kept watching. “You want to record me reading a poem for her? I’m starting to think she’s your princess; not mine. You’re treating her so well compared to the others.”

“Watch it, Shakespeare.” Griffon kept flying around V and Shadow. V was going through his book deciding which poem he should read to you. He knew you heard a good chunk of them since you enjoy it so much. He was trying to find one you haven’t heard or one that would express his feelings for you. “Come on, V. We don’t have all day.”

V put his index finger to his lips while looking at Griffon. It looked like V was looking at the camera, looking at you. Even though it was a video you couldn’t help but blush. V showed the poem he was reading. Griffon questioned why he was showing the class a book with no pictures but you knew the reason. V wanted you to know which poem he was reading to you so you wouldn’t have to look it up. He started to read “Love and Harmony” by William Blake.

“Love and harmony combine,

And round our souls entwine

While thy branches mix with mine,

And our roots together join.

Joys upon our branches sit,

Chirping loud and singing sweet;

Like gentle streams beneath our feet

Innocence and virtue meet.

Thou the golden fruit dost bear,

I am clad in flowers fair;

Thy sweet boughs perfume the air,

And the turtle buildeth there.

There she sits and feeds her young,

Sweet I hear her mournful song;

And thy lovely leaves among,

There is love, I hear his tongue.

There his charming nest doth lay,

There he sleeps the night away;

There he sports along the day,

And doth among our branches play.”

When V finished reciting the poem he tried to get your phone back from Griffon. Griffon flew up higher so V couldn’t reach it. You could see V trying to figure out how to get your phone back. You had a feeling V didn’t do anything because he didn’t want to break your phone. V ended up giving Griffon an annoyed look while holding his hand out. Griffon flew down to V and gave him the phone so V could stop the recording.

                                      ------------------------------------

You were outside a coffee shop eating a breakfast sandwich when your phone rang. You answered the phone already knowing how the conversation was going to go. You ate your breakfast as your boss yelled through the phone. He yelled about how the whole office is behind because you didn’t do what you were supposed to do and left early. You held the phone a few inches away from your ear because he was so loud. You honestly thought if you had him on speaker the phone’s speakers would break. You didn’t bother to defend yourself because you didn’t care. Your boss was an asshole, he ran the office horribly, you didn’t really get along with anyone, and you didn’t enjoy working there. You debated for months about leaving and just took it as a sign to do so. Before you could squeeze in “I quit”, you heard “You are no longer part of this company” then a click.

You tried to call your boss back to find out when was a good time to get your last paycheck but was sent straight to voicemail. Five times you tried but no luck. You decided to go to the office after your breakfast. You started to look for other jobs you could apply to through your phone. Nothing looked good to you. You started to wonder if Dante would let you work with Devil May Cry again. Sure it’s an unusual job but it was fun. You got along with everyone, it’s a great way to get your anger out and it’s how you met V. 

You thought about the times you and V fought side by side. You found it quite amusing when he would twirl his cane around. Fascinating when he pretended his cane was a violin. Intoxicating when he recited William Blake. You had times when you lost focus on what was going on around you because you were watching him. As your mind started to go deeper into thought, someone sat down across from you.

You snapped back to reality and jumped out of your chair. A hand grabbed your wrist as you were turning to leave. You tried to step away but the grip tightened. You turned your head to see who it was as you got ready to throw your coffee at them. You lowered your guard once you realized it was Vergil. You were confused but sat back down.  You and Vergil quickly caught up with each other. Vergil just got back from a mission when he saw you sitting by yourself. You told Vergil about the birthday party last night and that you got fired not too long ago. Vergil was a bit shocked since he knows you’re a hard worker and take your work seriously. You then explained that you were okay with it. “Do you think Dante would let me come back to Devil May Cry?”

“More than likely. Your skills are better than some of the people there. Everyone misses you and were sad when you left.” You could tell Vergil genuinely meant what he said. You knew he was (still is?) a hungry power asshole but he had his moments. You thanked Vergil for his company then got up to leave. “Before you go. I found something you may want. Consider it a late birthday present.”

“One day off isn’t too bad.” You stuck out your hand as Vergil placed a small box in your hand. When you opened it you saw a necklace with an animal’s tooth. You looked at Vergil; your eyes asking if it was V’s. Vergil confirmed it was by nodding. After you put it on you hugged Vergil and gave him a kiss on the cheek. You felt him stiffen when you hugged him and thought it was cute. You remembered V did the same thing when you hugged him the first time. With the biggest smile you thanked Vergil then left the table. You didn’t know what would happen next but you knew things were going to get better. V was with you once again even if it’s not physical.

[skvaderarts]

Hiraeth Chapter 15: Acquaintance

Masterlist can be found Here!

Chapter fifteen: Acquaintance

Notes: I don’t normally do anything for Valentine’s Day, but I might write something for it this year. IDK since I have no ideas. It’s not my kind of day. But I thought it might be a fun challenge, so here we are. Anyway, I hope you like this chapter. It was a new kind of challenge for me. More on that later in the endnotes!

-~-

In truth, there had been no specific set of expectations placed upon the situation that they now found themselves in. none of them were entirely sure what they’d expected to find when they exited the house and walked along the path that led through the front lawn to the front gate that inclosed the small front yard, but it sure as hell hadn’t been what they found. In such trying times, that was one thing that was for certain.

Flames rained down from the sky as the intrepid group of devil hunters forged a path forwards up the street, remnants of a distant encounter of some sort that seemed to be a few blocks away. From this distance, all they could see was smoke and charred trees, all they could smell was the distinct sulfurous scent of the underworld; all they could feel was the burning heat that only fire left in its wake. looks of perplexion and mild amusement adorning their faces as they strode forward. Yes, something cataclysmic had certainly occurred during their time inside of Matier’s cozy abode. They hadn’t noticed any of this whatsoever. Whatever this was, it was eventful, and it might be the perfect distraction from the matter at hand.

But what had caused this incredible set of circumstances to occur in the first place? This entire situation was entirely irregular, to say the least. Even from the distance that they currently were from it, they could feel the change in the atmosphere. A great deal of power was being discharged in whatever battle was waging ahead of them, and they couldn’t pinpoint its origin. But perhaps the most incredible thing was that there didn’t seem to be any notable property damage. No, the encounter, whatever it was, seemed to be contained in some way. The entire little village that they found themselves in would have burned down by then if that wasn’t the case.

“So Vergil, you spent, what, literally forever in the underworld, right? You ever seen something like whatever this is?” Nico asked as she attempted to keep pace with the rest of the group. She was out of breath, and running wasn’t something that she did if she could avoid it, especially in a hot, humid climate like the one that they were in. That being said, she didn’t want to miss a second of the action if she could help it.

The devil slayer in blue glanced over at her, more or less neutral to the inquiry. Yes, he had indeed spent “literally forever” down there. There was no need to remind him. But he could only assume that the young woman had meant her comment in a non-malicious way. She had no reason to pick a fight with someone who could easily end her life. Perhaps it was just her misguided way of breaking the ice.

“Now that you mention it… no, I don’t believe that I have.” The reality of that realization suddenly dawned on Vergil as they forged a path forward. The Darkslayer drew his weapon and readied himself for a fight, unwilling to simply walk into what could possibly be a trap. Nico wouldn’t willingly walk them into one, but the situation could still be beyond her scope of expertise. And besides, having Yamato at the ready was probably be the best decision he could make when going up against an unfamiliar and more than likely deadly force. He wasn’t going to make it too easy on his opponent.

Dante shrugged, pulling his blade from his back in preparation for the battle that they were probably walking into. “Beats me! I’ve never seen anything quite like this, either. It’s kinda familiar, but not really, and I still can’t place what could be causing it.”

Much to their surprise, Nico snickered slightly at the statement. “Oh, believe me, your gonna see what’s causing. That’s why I came and got ya in the first place! I needed ya to see this for yourself. It’s pretty wild!”

“So am I the only one who wasn’t to know why the sky is on fire? Because I feel like that might be pretty important.” Nero said as he readied Blue Rose. It was the bare minimum of presumptive action that he could take against a possible sneak attack, and the last thing he wanted to do was get torn in half by some random demon. Not only would it be a lame way to die, but it would also keep him from finding out what the hell was going on.

“Yes, your quite right, Nero. The sky isn’t normally on fire. A rather astute observation, if I do say so myself. And it certainly doesn’t help me breathe any easier.” A familiar voice said as they passed him from behind, leaving nothing more than a blur or dark energy as they passed. Nero gave V an unamused look as he hovered past him, the shorter-haired man clearly not pleased that he had to run while V could simply float along the ground effortlessly. That wasn’t to say that he blamed him, though. If he has such an ability, Nero was certain that he too would abuse it in every possible way. Riding Punchline was by far one of the highlights of his day whenever he was afforded the opportunity.

As the group neared the trees, they caught sight of something that waylaid them slightly. Standing just to the side of their destination was a familiar face that Dante was positive that he hadn’t seen in far too long. A small dagger flew past Dante’s head and into the tree behind him as stepped forward, catching sight of the group of demons that had gathered around in a hopeless attempt at actually standing much of a chance against their opponent. But that wouldn’t do them any good. While she might not be quite as powerful as he was, Lucia was far from a pushover, and a few worthless Puia, Demonochorus, and Msira didn’t stand a chance against her. As if to prove his point, she threw a volley of blades at the last remaining wave of them, knocking them dead to the floor as she withdrew her curved blades from the remains of a Savage Golem that had made the fatal mistake of thinking it could take her on in close quarters combat.

Vergil raised an eyebrow as she approached them, noting the finer points of what little of her fighting style he’d be able to see. While he himself used smaller blades as a primary element of his fighting style, actually throwing them was another matter entirely. It took great skill to be able to hit your target so consistently, and to do so with such speed? She was rather impressive, wasn’t she? He wondered for a moment what he had expected her to do when he’d finally met her, but it seemed that whatever expectations he’d previously possessed had been subverted, even if he didn’t really know what those expectations were. It wasn’t every day that something like that happened.

The instant that the demon was dead and she had holstered her twin blades, Lucia jogged over to them, using her left hand to toss her long red braid over her shoulder as she came to a stop in front of Dante. Despite the fact that she’d just finished a battle, a pleasant, if not shy smile spread across her face. “Dante… Matier told me you’d come back around. What are you…”

She trailed off for a second as she caught sight of the rest of the group, noticing for the first time how many new people she’d never seen before were there, especially the ones with white hair. Her eyes drifted over to Vergil as he approached, V and Nero coming from behind their father and around to meet her. Was this the guardian that Dante had told them so much about? If so, they were somewhat surprised. For whatever reason, both Nero and V had collectively figured that she was an older woman like Matier. She didn’t’ seem significantly older than they were. Probably around Lady and Trish’s age, possibly even slightly younger. It was hard to say by just looking at her. What they could say, however, was that so far, she seemed far too nice to be one of Dante’s friends. After all, she hadn’t shot or stabbed him yet. What a welcome change of pace!

After a moment of staring in quiet confusion at Vergil, Lucia turned back towards Dante. She looked at the devil hunter in red for a second, her brow furrowing slightly as though she didn’t understand something. She tilted her head to one side, clearly considering something. A moment later she looked at Vergil again, this time stepping back to get a better look at both of them. And just like that, something clicked. 

“Oh… I see. That makes sense. Very interesting.” She turned her gaze towards Dante, folding her arms and she glared at him playfully. If she’s been closer, she might have even nudged him, but that was a longshot. “Why didn’t you tell me you were identical twins, Dante?! That’s incredible! You told me about your brother but…”

Lucia slowly stopped talking as she noticed that Vergil was folding his arms and turning to give his twin a dirty look, the younger of the two giving her a look as if to plead with her to stop talking. While the lovely redhead wasn’t privy to what was going on, she was smart enough to be able to tell that it was probably a complicated matter between her longtime friend and his twin brother, and that she didn’t want to get involved. If the tension alone was anything to go by, it might not end very well for her. Best to revisit that topic later when it was just her and Dante and the two of them were not in the same location. After all, she’d heard from down the grapevine that they didn’t always get along.

V peered around his father’s back, wrangling Shadow as he ended his use of the demonic feline. She was an invaluable asset, especially in regards to travel, but there was no reason to use her when they were standing still. Best to let her rest just in case things took a turn. Though going off of his experience with the young woman that they had just ran into, he couldn’t imagine that it would. From what he could tell, she seemed kind.

“Sorry about that. It’s not my business, is it? Forgive me.” Lucia blushed slightly, clearly embarrassed. She’d only been talking to him for a minute or two, and she’d already managed to find a way to get herself tongue-tied and into a situation that she didn’t particularly wish to be in. How did this always happen? “My name is Lucia. I’m one of the guardians of Vei Du Marlin. I hope you’ve enjoyed your stay so far. Sorry for the wait.”

As if to protest against her polite statement, another loud explosion ricochet across the space behind them, this time the vibration it caused was enough to stagger them, nearly causing V to stumble and fall over due to the sheer force of it. Nero reached for his brother in an attempt to steady him, but the older of the two politely waved him off. There was no need. Thankfully he hadn’t actually fallen down. The problem was that V’s center of balance left much to be desired. Lucia noticed his unsteady state and gave him a concerned look, drawing attention from the rest of the group as she did so. V sighed quietly under his breath, cursing his entire equilibrium for being so easily swayed.

“I’m fine. Truly. It’s just that whatever that was threw me off.” V glanced back towards the source of the explosion before turning back to her, intreuged.” Normally I tend to notice strange things such as that a moment or so before they occur because I do have eyes and I can see them, but we have no visibility from where we currently are. As such, I can’t really brace myself for impact. And whatever small amount of foresight I tend to possess has seemingly abandoned me. It’s unfortunate, but I’ll manage.”

Lucia nodded, seeming to understand his plight. “Oh, I understand. That makes sense. My mother needs assistance when she walks these days as well. She’s elderly, you see. Your balance being a little off is absolutely understandable if you walk with a cane.”

V considered elaborating for a moment, but he couldn’t will himself to do so. For whatever reason, he found himself tongue-tied in a manner that was unfamiliar to him. It was rare that he couldn’t think of a single thing to say, yet here he was, at a total loss for words. He wanted to say that it was simply because of the fact that he didn’t know what to say to such a polite, understanding, and accommodating response, but there was a part of him that subconsciously registered that there was more to it than that. He just didn’t know how to put it into words. And that was exceedingly strange to him. Maybe he was just worn out from his long conversation with Nero, Dante, and Vergil?

“Nice meeting you, Lucia. I’m Nero. Dante’s nephew. The frigid jerk in the blue coat is my dad, Vergil. He’s not so bad once you get used to him.” Nero said politely, trying his best to break the strange tension that had formed between V and the young guardian. He’d never seen V look so dumbfounded and lost before in his life, and it was as amusing as it was deeply confusing and strange. But regardless, they needed to figure out what was going on here. “This one’s my brother. I swear, he normally talks more. Not a lot more, but still. It’s something.”

V seemed to catch onto the fact that he was, in fact, acting deeply strange. He cleared his throat, looking down at the ground for a moment as if doing so would clear his head somehow. Suddenly he felt incredibly embarrassed, and he couldn’t even find a place to start as to why. What the hell was wrong with him? “You can call me V. it’s a pleasure to meet you, Lucia. What seems to be the trouble?”

She smiled slightly, a pleasant look that was reflected in her eyes in a way that told him it was genuine and not artificial friendliness to help break the ice between them. She pointed towards the woods, shrugging slightly as an exasperated look crossed her face. Despite the fact that she’d seen what had happened, that didn’t mean that it made any more sense to her than it did to anyone else. “Your companion came to assist me. A strange, large demon attacked while I was dispatching the lesser ones, and he lured it over there. I’ve been too busy dealing with these ones to go and see what became of him, but the fire doesn’t seem good, does it?”

Nero glanced over in the direction of the woods. He had to agree with her. “No, it doesn’t seem very good, does it? We should probably go and check it out. Ya know, see if he need any help. How big was this demon?”

The red-haired guardian gestured with both of her hands before withdrawing her blades, something catching her eye behind them. She took a defensive stance, motioning with her head towards the woods on the other side of the street. “Massive. But I think we might have company on the way. It seems that all this commotion had attracted unwanted attention.” 

She gestured in the direction of the large precession of demons that were now charging them, their heads lowered and their horns positioned to strike. It was a group that consisted of several varieties of goat and Finis demons and, from what he could tell, there were about two dozen of them. Each variety was present and accounted for, and they seemed eager and willing to attack. That didn’t surprise the devil hunter in red in the slightest. They always had been in his experience, especially the damn goat demons. But that didn’t change anything. He’d faced them before, and he would face them again.

Dante chuckled slightly, remembering the first time that he’d faced a member of the goat clan. They were always a fun time, but he didn’t really have the opportunity at the moment to give them the time that he would have liked to. Right now wasn’t the best time to pick a fight with a giant overgrown flaming goat, but they were going to have to take them down nonetheless. And then they needed to figure out where Sirrus was and fast before things got out of hand. If nothing else, flaming debris falling from the sky might catch something on fire. And the last thing they needed was to be even partially responsible for yet another destroyed town. Enough was enough for one lifetime. Or at least one year… 

“Alright then, let’s take care of these posers and go see what’s got the big guy so riled up. Think we can do that before the entire neighborhood burns down?” Dante said playfully as they readied themselves to meet their opponents head-on. Each of his companions gave him an affirming nod, even Nico who had no intention of getting into this fight. She didn’t even have a weapon, but she was going to hang back and see what she could do to help. Maybe going to check on what was going on in the woods was a good idea? Regardless, they were ready to meet their opponents head-on, and as the foolish creatures charged them head-on, they decided to meet them in the middle.

The entire company of devil hunters surged forward, ready to take down these pathetic excuses for demons and get to the real challenge. The poor creatures wouldn’t live to regret the day that they stumbled across the entirety of their family. After all, descendants of Sparda didn’t suffer demons to live, and there were a lot of demons here asking for a good murdering. Not a single one was going to make it out of here alive if any of them had anything to say about it. Especially with the mood that Vergil was in today. That had been their first and last mistake.

-~-

Wow. I did all of this week’s writing in one night. What the hell is wrong with me? Anyway, Lucia is hard for me to write, so I hope I did okay! I’ve never written anything with her in it before, despite how much I love her! Head to the comments and recommend me some fics with her in it to read! I need to learn her mannerisms, although I think I might have gotten a few of them at least half right. Thanks for all the support, and I’ll see you all next week. Well, except for the little valentines day short that I might write for Saudade sometime soon, but you know what I mean XD

See you in the comments!

[redlance]

This might seem a little out of left field as I guess you’re more known for your bechloe stuff but I can’t get over that dexter/wh13 fusion fic you did once and I was just wondering if you’d share the backstory as you put you had most of it fleshed out?

Hey! Oh man, this was a blast from the past haha. Thanks for making me revisit it! Now, let’s see what I can remember...

I’m not sure what I all explained in the fic itself (so things might differ from it and this), but the idea was that H.G. wasn’t saved at the end of season 2. Myka was trying to talk her down when Artie got a shot off that avoided the Corsican Vest (I took liberties with how the vest worked for this and decided it would only inflict the would-be wound on the attacker if the vest itself was directly hit) and hit H.G. in the neck. Myka screams and runs to her, H.G. falls and bleeds out in Myka’s arms. This is made all the more tragic by us knowing that Myka and H.G. were already falling in love a little bit prior to this - so Myka’s dealing with betrayal and two different kinds of losses - and that, as viewers, we know that H.G. would have broken down and not gone through with her plan, unable to kill Myka.(More beneath the cut, this gets long. Sorry anon! You asked!)

After this, Myka leaves the Warehouse. She can’t look Artie in the eye anymore, can’t forgive him for not trusting her with Helena, and she can’t stand being in a place that reminds her so much of H.G.

Can’t stand the smell of apples.

So, she packs up and heads towards the very antithesis of Univille, South Dakota - Miami, Florida.

It isn’t just a random decision either. From my notes;

Because once upon a time Myka had been someone who hunted down artifacts for a secret government organisation, a job that took her all over the world and had landed her in Miami a few short years ago. People had been turning up dead all over the city, burnt from the inside out. It had taken about a week, a few more dead bodies, and a run in with the very same team from Miami Metro that she now worked alongside, but they'd recovered Nero's Fiddle. Snagged, bagged, and tagged. But not before Myka and the then Detective had almost come to blows over territory encroachment. Pete had never let her live it down. Which was precisely why she hadn't told him, or anyone for that matter, who exactly she was working under now.

Because of that connection - and because Debra Morgan knows dedication when she sees it - she lands a job at Miami Metro. It’s not long before Myka realises that she and her Lieutenant are similar in many ways and a friendship forms. 

Meanwhile, for some reason I haven’t noted down, Myka ends up at a boat auction. Maybe it’s for a case. She happens upon a modest sized boat bearing the name ‘Slice of Life’ and feels inexplicably drawn to it. Her father had taken her out on a boat a little smaller than it back when she was a kid and so Myka has some experience with sailing. She ends up bidding on and winning it, and it’s eventually delivered to the marina. 

She starts spending a lot of time on the boat. Every day after work, she goes out to the marina and does some cleaning, adds her own little touches, makes it feel homey. 

And that’s when she starts seeing Helena. 

That’s when the criminals getting off on technicalities really start to get under her skin. 

That’s when she buys her first knife.

Unbeknownst to Myka, the Slice of Life is, of course, an artifact. Feeding on her grief and, basically, turning her into Dexter 2.0. She even has her own Harry for company. 

The first time she kills a man, she doesn’t feel sick or upset. She feels calm and at peace. Like she’s righted a wrong that had been plaguing this world. And Helena is there, beautiful as ever, telling Myka what a wonderful job she’s doing. They talk, sometimes sit in silence.

And it’s easy for Myka to forget that Helena isn’t real. 

So, Myka goes on policing by day and killing by night. Using the boat to dump the bodies much like Dexter did before her. She doesn’t keep souvenirs, though. The people she kills aren’t worthy of being remembered. 

There’s a holy shit moment when Myka invites Deb down to the marina and Deb realises that, “Holy fucking fuck, you bought my brother’s boat.” 

Things take a turn when Lila - who is not dead but keeps having dreams about Dexter killing her - shows up at the marina looking for Dex and finds Myka there instead. Lila, who looks so much like a modern H.G. it’s startling, and Myka can’t help it. She’s drawn to Lila the same way she was drawn to the boat. They spend time together, grow closer, more intimate. Then there’s this conversation:

"Who is it?" Lila asked and Myka spun, startled, to face her. She was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, eyeing Myka curiously, suspiciously almost, and Myka would swear she saw jealousy flash in oddly familiar brown eyes. She stared back, unable for the moment to feign the ignorance required to ask the obvious question. The one she could feel inching along her spine like a hundred spiders, tickling and agitating her skin until the need the scratch at it became overwhelming. "The person I remind you of. There is someone, isn't there?" Lila had her pinned with her gaze and Myka found that she could only nod, even as Lila took a step into the room and she felt every muscle in her body tense. "Was she a friend of yours?" The question was an empty one, she could hear it in Lila's voice that she already knew that wasn't the case. Myka watched as the other woman lifted her hand to trail her fingers over the marble countertop, gaze dropping and then returning to Myka as she asked the real question. "Was she a lover?" Myka's heart lurched and then seized, stealing away a beat or two as Lila continued to move closer. "I see it in your eyes, the way you look at me." She passed. "The way you CAN'T look at me sometimes. It's written all over your face, you know." Panic rose on Myka, unbidden and unexplainable, as Lola finally rounded the counter and leaned against it, her body now parallel to Myka's. "It just gets so dark sometimes." She made it sound like something to wonder over. Marvell at. "She must a been a very passionate-"

"We weren't lovers." Myka blurted, suddenly desperate for Lila to stop and she did, stunned into momentary silence by the apparently unexpected revelation. Her eyes were wide with something close to fear, something Lila seemed to take in stride.

"But you wanted to be." It wasn't a question. Myka's eyes drooped and she crossed her arms over her chest, looking away. "Well," And it was strange how much Lila could press into one word, how her looks could burn into you in less than a second. It was another thing that made Myka remember. "I can't imagine that she wasn't interested." But the way Lila leered, all unabashed obviousness, that was different. "What was it then? Was she married? Afraid? Or were you two some kind of Shakespearian star crossed lovers?" Myka's posture stiffened and then sagged dramatically the longer Lila stared at her, knowingly. As if she already knew the answer and was waiting to see if Myka would provide the correct one or not. As if she was testing her.

"A bit of all three, I think." Myka said through a sigh and Lila's lips turned upward briefly, as if Myka's answer had pleased her in some way. "It just... It wasn't..." She swallowed hard and then turned away, opening one of the kitchen cupboards and reaching for a mug, only to pause as her fingers brushed smoother porcelain. "I can't talk about this." She left the mug where it was and closed the cupboard, turning instead to the fridge and opening it to retrieve a bottle. She offered it to Lila without looking and then grabbed another for herself.

"Can't or won't?" She threw a glare at the other woman as she closed the heavy silver door with her hip and reached for the draw that housed a bottle opened amid various other odds and ends.

"Both." She said, a stern edge to her voice as she snapped the cap off and then handed the opener to Lila. The woman took it, deliberately brushing her fingers against Myka's in the exchange, and Myka yanked her hand back as though she'd accidentally slipped it into a fire. Lila caught her gaze and smirked before turning her attention to the beer in her hand.

“You know,” she started slowly, after taking a long draw from the bottle, “the man I came here looking for, he was the thing I wouldn't talk about for the longest time.” Myka thumbed the neck of her bottle and watched as Lila's attention drifted around the room. “I thought about him a lot, every day, but I never spoke about him out loud. I kept him close like a secret, until one day the silence almost broke me. I’d lost him, or at least I thought I had, and I don't think I’ve experienced pain that profound before. I loved him, but he...” she sighed, taking another swig of amber liquid turned green by the thick glass. “He had other priorities. Ones he put before me. I guess I loved him more than he loved me.” She smiled then, though Myka could tell it was forced. “He's my one that got away.” Silence then, empty and stretching as the seconds ticked by.

“She didn't get away.” Myka said at length. “She was taken from me.” And there was so much sour distaste to her tone, so much venom and contempt. She could feel it swimming in her veins, being pumped through her body by a heart that beat now only because it thought it should. Lila's expression changed at the sound of it, morphed into a mask of pity and sorrow that was headed by a frown.

“How did it happen?” The question didn't hurt, surprisingly, and neither did the memory of the moment as it flickered to life like a piece of video playback embedded in her brain. But there was a dull, numb ache. One that permeated her entire being.

Helena is always there, lingering in the shadows. Even while Lila is in her bed. 

Eventually, long story short, Myka ends up somewhat naturally neutralizing the artifact that is the Slice of Life. She, like Dexter, had found something worth more than killing. With the boat no longer in need of gooing, Myka won’t have to deal with feeling the repercussions of her otherwise OOC actions, and she’s left to live her life with Lila.

Or something like that. ;)

[makeela]

Top 12 Most Unfuckable Men In FFXIV (according to a lesbian)

(WARNING: This list contains spoilers up to 5.0)

12. Urianger Augurelt

Urianger is the least unfuckable man in Final Fantasy XIV. Mostly because, well - look at him. That’s the look of a man who has either fucked a lot or never once in his life, and we all saw Moenbryda. If Urianger told me he wanted to “smasheth mine pussy” I would have no choice but to accept, if only because it’d be an experience. There is nothing wrong with wanting to fuck Urianger.

11. Aymeric de Borel

Aymeric was originally in Urianger’s spot when I was thinking about this list, and the only reason he’s not is because he has definitely never fucked before in his life. So aggressively has he never fucked that when he was born, he had to come out via cesarean section, so that he might not have touched pussy even once. You would have to have a several year long committed relationship with him and it still wouldn’t happen until after his dumbass best friend gets possessed by a giant dragon and he’s trying real hard to stave off those Unholy Urges. It doesn’t work. This does not change the fact that, if I had to choose a man, I would be honored for Ser Aymeric de Borel to have a seat on my face.

10. Crystal Exarch

Haurchefant wants what the Crystal Exarch has: he’s smart, he’s cute, and his body is partially composed of rocks. All he wants is to go on an adventure with you, and maybe hold your hand. I feel like fucking the Crystal Exarch isn’t even sexual at this point, your emotional connection is just so deep that it’s only right to make him cry over and over. You’re being a good friend. You should fuck the Crystal Exarch.

9. Cid nan Garlond

I feel like Cid is the true neutral of this list. He’s funny, not objectively bad looking, loves to make shit for you and showers regularly. Unfortunately, he is not exceptionally memorable on a list of Male Characters I’d Be Interested In Maybe Fucking, If I Had To. I was almost done with this list before I even remembered that Cid is a major character, and not your best friend who you would never even consider fucking, just because that’s the kind of relationship you guys have. I would not fuck Cid, but not because there’s anything wrong with him; I just don’t want to fuck him. Sorry, Cid.

8. Gaius van Baelsar

Gaius van Baelsar definitely smells bad. He’s tried to kill you more than once, and two of those times was with a big robot that had god powers. However, like, just look at him. Imagine if he washed his hair. We all know how tall Alphinaud is, right? Look at how small he is by comparison. This is, in truth, the only reason he is in this spot and not one lower - he’s basically just a Metal Gear Solid character, which I am not mad about at all. I kind of wish Gaius was my father figure, and if, at some point, I ended up fucking him, I don’t think it would be the end of the world. I don’t think you should go out of your way to fuck Gaius van Baelsar, but if it happens, it happens, right?

7. Estinien Wyrmblood

I really wish I could justify ranking Estinien somewhere above Gaius. I really do. If I wasn’t trying to be at least semi-objective, he’d be right below Aymeric. He’s just so spiky. And Mean. And Sad. Unfortunately, I regret to inform you all and remind myself that there is no way that Estinien Wyrmblood does not, on a constant basis, smell like the inside of a Taco Bell, and I’m, like, at least 75% sure that he doesn’t know how to read. There also wouldn’t be much of a chase if you wanted to fuck Estinien, but unless he’s like, in love with you he’s also a very wham-bam-thank you ma’am kind of guy, and I’d be more into it if I got to braid his hair afterwards and gently reassure him that things were going to be okay. I wish I could recommend that you fuck Estinien, but I don’t think that’s the kind of physical comfort he needs right now.

6. Zenos yae Galvus

After Estinien I wasn’t sure who to put next, just because starting around here you get to Men I Am Neither Disgusted By Nor Benevolent Toward the concept of fucking, and I didn’t even think I had any of those until my friend, no hesitation, said “Zenos.” She is right. Zenos is pretty, he’s huge, he kills a lot of people and enjoys the job. This is a charm point for me. He also has absolutely no character traits otherwise so all he has is that he’s Pretty and Likes Murder. Talk to me again when he has depression and maybe we can re-evaluate.

5. Thancred Waters

Thancred and I have had a very tumultuous relationship. In ARR, he was alright. My opinion of him improved significantly in Heavensward, where he was just a long-haired eyepatched hobo who refused to revisit human civilization because he didn’t want to wear pants. In Shadowbringers, he just turned into a shitty dad, and I did not like that shit at all. They took his eyepatch and his ponytail and gave him Shitty Parenting Skills. If Thancred were my father figure, I would simply not speak to him. I could not be persuaded to fuck Thancred.

4. Magnai Oronir

I don’t need to explain this one.

3. Nabriales

I don’t think Nabriales is too much worse than, like, Lahabrea, in terms of fuckability - meaning that, if pressed, I would not choose to fuck either of them - but every time I get the Chrysalis in Trial Roulette half the party immediately drops. The Chrysalis isn’t even that hard, guys, just make sure someone limit breaks the tear. I love to MT the Chrysalis. As someone who consistently gets Thornmarch and Steps of Faith in Trials Roulette, I will kick the shit out of Nabriales any day. Just, not sexually. At all. Maybe a little bit if the off tank would turn off tank stance.

2. Hien Rijin

Hien is pretty cute. Unfortunately, he is also an imperialist, even though the MSQ doesn’t want to talk about that at all because he’s your buddy. Every single time I got a quest like “talk to Hien!” I would get so mad. I don’t want to talk to Hien. Every time I talk to Hien he just wants me to help him infringe on another race’s cultural events for his benefit. It wouldn’t even be a problem for me if it wasn’t encouraged and entirely uncriticized by the narrative. I don’t want to see or be seen by Hien.

1. Haurchefant Greystone

I didn’t play FFXIV for three years because I thought Haurchefant was a main character. Literally, for like, three years, many of my friends were like “Play FFXIV!” and I was like “no!” because I didn’t want to hear about Haurchefant more than I already had to. By the time I met him in MSQ, I was willing to give him a chance. I got it, at the beginning - he’s helpful, he’s complimentary. The problem is, that’s it. I think he sounds like Kif Kroker, and I think I would rather die than fuck him, which is saying a lot coming from me since I think most aliens are super sexy. After I knew Haurchefant for, like, two weeks, he invited me to come to his house and he was like “you have no idea how long I waited for this!” You waited two weeks, man. I understand that you live in an icy tundra and you’ve not felt the touch of another in years, because that’s the only way you could possibly be this horny by the time I stumble into your office, but Jesus Christ, dude. I wish I could be friends with Haurchefant, but I know this is simply not possible since he is so deeply horny that once the point was made the friendship could no longer recover. I am truly, deeply glad that I’ll never have to worry about having a Tinder date with Haurchefant go awry and he will never send me fifty texts asking for photos of my feet. Haurchefant is the most unfuckable man in Final Fantasy XIV. Sorry, Haurchefant. I wish things could be different.

HONORABLE MENTIONS:

1. Nero tol Scaeva

Nero fucking sucks. I would probably fuck Nero. You should not fuck Nero.

2. Emet-Selch

I’m pretty sure that Emet-Selch wouldn’t even be DTF, at least not with the Warrior of Light. On the off chance that he was, though, I would definitely fuck Emet-Selch. I cannot see any good reasons why I shouldn’t fuck Emet-Selch. He is greasy, and old, and talks in riddles. This is extremely sexy to me. If these things are not extremely sexy to you, I don’t think you should fuck Emet-Selch.

[keeroo92]

Be My Nightmare Ch14

Truth

Warnings for NSFW, brief mention of alcoholism and edgeplay.

Word count - 6,039

~~~~Previous Chapter~~~~

Tagging a few people who mentioned looking forward to this: @blqckmedusa @m-pana @kylo-v @wackywoohoopizzalady @tehrevving Sorry if I missed anyone :)

_________

On the other side of town, a young woman sat in a dark room surrounded by filing cabinets. Her chocolate hair hung in a limp ponytail, loose strands attesting to how long she’d been there. Empty coffee cups littered her desk along with scraps of paper with half-formed thoughts scrawled upon them. Shadows played under her eyes and an exhausted slump curled her shoulders, but she couldn’t give up now.

“Hey, I’m heading out. Don’t stay too long, okay, kid?” a familiar voice said from the doorway. Tony.

Officer Nicoletta Goldstein forced a dry chuckle from her lips. “You got it, I won’t be long. Just finishing up.”

Her mentor offered a lazy salute and turned away, his heavy steps echoing through the nearly empty police station as he approached the elevator.

Nico frowned and returned her attention to the monitor, releasing yet another deep sigh as her latest search came up empty. She hadn’t expected it to be easy, but digging up dirt on Waras was proving more challenging than she imagined. A more spotless record, she’d never seen. If anything, it made her even more suspicious.

There’s gotta be something, I can feel it!

If Tony caught her looking into the doctor, he’d be furious. They’d already had an argument about it, but still she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. Normal folk didn’t leave crime scenes without showing some kind of reaction to them. The neutral, flat expression on Waras’ face on her way out wasn’t right. The young officer might even call it indecent.

Tony said it made sense, considering her career. The woman dealt with criminals on a regular basis, no doubt she was desensitized to horror by now. He had a point, but she knew from personal experience how different it felt to be there in person, instead of looking at pictures or hearing someone tell you about it.

When Nico first saw the carnage, she’d had to run outside to vomit. It was far from her first murder scene, but never had she viewed such gruesome evidence. Even thinking about it brought a sour taste to her tongue. She’d expected a similar reaction from a civilian.

Maybe her social security records have something?

She opened yet another database and entered the search terms, reaching for the most recent cup of coffee as it loaded the results. 

“Ugh,” she grumbled, grimacing at the ice-cold fluid. Why couldn’t the search run faster? Crappy government internet… Might as well get a fresh cup while she waited. Stretch her legs.

She stood and sighed, glancing once more at the monitor before departing for caffeine. The progress bar was halfway done, she had plenty of time.

As the echo of her footsteps faded, a soft ping sounded from the unattended computer.

---Reader---

You had to admit, it was nice to come home to a hot meal. The chicken was spiced perfectly, and the vegetables had a delightful crunch. The madman knew his way around a kitchen, it seemed.

I should make sure none of the knives are missing later.

“I couldn’t find any wine; I hope the meal is still to your satisfaction.”

Late afternoon light spilled through the window behind him, lighting his form with a gentle glow. The scent of lemon and sizzling meat wafted from the kitchen area, the fruits of his labor still waiting on the stovetop. Quiet music flowed from your stereo, barely noticeable but the ideal accompaniment for a meal.

You swallowed the savory bite residing in your mouth and raised an eyebrow. “I don’t drink much.”

Forest green eyes studied you curiously, the artist’s chin resting on one hand. He’d been more attentive than when you left; he must be feeling better. For a moment, it was all too easy to forget who you were with and enjoy the fading light of the setting sun behind him. If only the peaceful facade of two regular people sharing a meal were true.

He’s a killer. You just saw what he’s capable of.

“Why not?” he asked.

You took another bite and shook your head. “My dad’s a drinker. I’d rather not get into it.”

“Hmm, what shall we discuss, then?”

The fork in your hand clicked against the almost clean plate as you set it down. “How about Michael?”

“Who?”

So he didn’t even know his victims name. Was it all coincidence, then? Most likely; his other victims seemed random, too. His unpredictable targets were part of why the police needed your help.

“That’s the name of the man you killed and chopped into pieces.”

His face lit up, an excited shine entering his gaze. “Ah, yes! You found the true meaning, I assume?”

Suddenly, the bottle of whiskey hiding behind the olive oil sounded appealing. How the hell were you supposed the talk about this? You were no stranger to complicated conversations but chatting about the artistry in a murder scene was a new standard. 

No doubt the artist would break that standard soon, too.

Yup, getting drunk is looking better by the second.

You pursed your lips. “Yes, I found it. You’re not quite as clever as you think you are.”

A beat passed in silence before he smirked, carefully setting aside the remains of his meal. “I do not recommend you underestimate me.”

“I could say the same, you know. I can still turn you in.”

He hissed, muttering something under his breath with a glance to your left. Most of his words were lost to the void, but you caught something about chicken soup and plucking.

“If you were going to betray me, you would’ve already done so. You’re in too deep to run now,” he said a moment later. “But I am curious what you thought of my work.”

You hummed and sat back with a sly smile. True, it was too late to run, but that didn’t mean he held all the cards. Not even close. It was about damned time you regained the upper hand.

“We can trade. A straight answer for a straight answer.”

“Oh, are you finally willing to stop hiding? I admit, I have many questions. Griffon and Vergil, too.”

So, he was still hallucinating. It made sense, especially since he wasn’t getting any medication anymore. You couldn’t help but wonder what he wanted to know, and how different the questions from his voices would be. How much of his odd personality was his own? How much was a manifestation of trauma? How much of it was real?

“Let’s raise the stakes. What if I refuse to answer you? What should my penance be?” he asked.

You eyed him, noting his slim build. No doubt he hadn’t had much exposure recently, his system wouldn’t handle it well. The chicken might slow down the process, but still. Plus, you knew your own tolerance could handle it. 

Thanks, dad…

“Whiskey. I have a bottle in the cupboard.”

Sure, there was some risk to it; if he drank too much, you’d have to clean up any vomit. You’d have to watch him carefully and stop him before it got to that point. What kind of drunk would the man turn out to be? An honest one, hopefully.

At his agreement, you fetched the unopened bottle and a fresh pair of glasses, filling them before taking your seat again. The signature smell made you gag, but you’d drink him under the table with ease. It was in your blood, after all.

“So… who goes first?” you asked.

The murderous artist smirked and took a tiny sip, sampling the drink. “The lady, of course. Don’t hold back.”

Smug bastard, he has no idea how fucked he is.

“Who was the white-haired man in the painting?”

The change was instant; his smirk flipped into a tight frown, his shoulders tensed and a muscle in his jaw twitched. He didn’t like that question, not one bit. Maybe you should’ve started with something a little gentler.

The artist released a deep breath and closed his eyes. “His name was Nero. He was my friend.”

“What happened to him?’

He tutted, shaking his head like a parent scolding a child. “Ah, ah, ah. It’s my turn now. What did you think of… Michael, was it?”

You pursed your lips and swirled the amber fluid in your glass. It was a mild enough question, a safe place to start. Might as well answer and conserve your capacity. Considering your experience with him so far, you’d need it later. He was too clever for you to expect to get out of this game sober.

“I thought it was extraordinary. Chaos to a casual glance, but an intricate web designed with one purpose for those who look deeper. Very clever, if grotesque.”

To your shock, a pink stain tinted his cheeks and the madman averted his gaze. He was embarrassed, unbelievable. Someone with his ego should be used to praise.

But it was your turn. Time for an answer, or to force him to drink. You repeated your question from moments ago, watching his expression like a hawk. Even if he refused, you’d learn something here.

He sighed and raised his glass, taking a generous gulp. Damn. 

“My turn. Are you a virgin?” he tossed back.

Well. Apparently personal boundaries were a thing of the past, that much was clear. Sex wasn’t that personal, though. Everyone did it, why beat around the bush and pretend to be pure and innocent? “No. Why did you leave school?”

“Hmm, that’s easy. My calling drew me elsewhere. What’s your relationship with your father like?”

You crossed your arms and glared at him. “I thought we agreed to give straight answers. Why did you leave school?”

Adam’s apple bobbing, he licked his lips and fidgeted with his glass, refusing to meet your intense gaze as the last dregs of sunlight faded away. Judging by how uncomfortable he seemed, you were on the right track. This line of inquiry held great promise. Maybe tonight was the night you’d finally figure out why he did the things he did.

“There was… an attack,” he murmured at last. “It opened my eyes to the truth, that innocence and naïveté are foolish and must be eradicated. I woke to my purpose and left to fulfill it.”

A moment passed in reflective silence. This was a major piece of information, the latest step toward the truth. The thrill of resolution danced across your skin and sent your heart galloping. If you could get him to tell you just a little more, you’d solve the puzzle at last. Finally- answers.

Assuming you didn’t fuck it up and make him raise his guard again. It wouldn’t do to be disrespectful and break his melancholy remembrance. Instead, you pondered what else you might ask and watched the shadows dance across the table.

Eventually, his eyes lifted to meet yours once more. “Forgive me. It is not a pleasant memory.”

“I understand. Take your time,” you replied softly.

The quiet was unbearable. Perhaps you’d gone too far, pushed too hard too soon. It wasn’t easy to judge where the line was, it never had been.

“What do you do for fun, doctor?”

Wait, what?

Even with all the questions you’d imagined he might ask, this hadn’t crossed your mind. It was too mundane, too ordinary. The sort of thing Kotomi would’ve asked you.

Oddly enough, you didn’t want to answer. The things you did in your spare time didn’t include normal hobbies like cooking or going for a jog. You didn’t like talking about it, because inevitably others made fun of your interests. The idea of the man before you laughing at your expense left your heart feeling strangely tight.

You lifted your glass and took a sip, cringing as the fluid burned its way to your belly. Disgusting.

“Interesting…” murmured the artist. 

Shit, maybe I should have made something up.

But it was your turn. No time to think about it, better to find a good question instead. What combination of words would unlock the mystery of his origin?

“What kind of attack was it?”

He sighed and traced the lip of his glass with one finger, thinking. Technically, the question didn’t reveal anything about him directly, and it wouldn’t be hard to find the truth online. Any kind of attack would have made headlines. It was a gamble to ask openly, but the odds of victory seemed high.

“A shooting,” he replied at last. “But back to you… why did my last question make you uncomfortable? What twisted hobby are you hiding?”

Bastard. He’ll figure it out if I answer.

The dark liquid didn’t burn as much this time, instead leaving a pleasant tingle in its wake. How strong was it, anyway? What had Kotomi gotten you? It shouldn’t affect you this much yet, but there was no mistaking the warmth growing within. Maybe you should’ve finished dinner first, gotten a bit more meat in your stomach.

A quick glance at the bottle your ex-friend gave you for Christmas explained it. Fifty-seven percent, no wonder it was hitting you hard. You couldn’t afford to keep drinking like this, or you’d end up completely wasted.

It didn’t matter. You would win this. Failure was unacceptable.

“How many voices do you hear?”

He chuckled and rolled his shoulders. The black shirt he wore hid nothing and your eyes traced the curve of his muscles, admiring his broad chest and defined form. Why did he have to be so damned attractive? The whole situation would’ve been simple if he was balding or had a beer gut, but no…

I should have some water. Already feeling foggy.

“Three, though I consider them friends. They aren’t simply ‘voices’, but I doubt you’d understand.” 

The man had the audacity to smirk as he met your eyes, as if he knew you were watching the way his body moved. Coils of heat gathered in your core when his tongue darted out to moisten his lips, all without looking away. Bastard.

“My turn. Have you ever wondered what it’s like to take a life?”

The warmth turned to ice. Of course you had, but you didn’t want him to know that. There was no safe answer here. No matter what you did, he’d see right through your lies or find a way to use the truth against you.  The man excelled at mind games, maybe a drinking game was unwise.

You raised your glass, shocked to see that it was already close to empty. A single swallow remained; just enough to dodge the question.

“Ha, I’ll take that as a yes.”

Your vision swam. Using the larger glasses was a miscalculation, and you were paying the price. It almost made you laugh; every time you thought you’d outsmarted the murderous artist, he proved he was two steps ahead. In an odd way, it was nice. Finding someone that could keep up with you was rare.

“Whatever, it’s my turn. How mush do you plan ahead for your kills?” you slurred. Damnit.

As you spoke, he refilled your glass with a knowing smirk. His was still half full.

“Not much. Usually I have an idea for the piece but it’s quite vague, until I find the right canvas.”

You pursed your lips. “You mean the right person.”

He frowned and leaned in, eyes glittering. Did they always look that green?

“Tell me, doctor. Do you really consider everyone equally valuable to society? Aren’t there some who, while cared for, do not contribute? When looking at society from a utilitarian perspective, what determines someone’s value? Why should it matter who I choose, so long as they fulfill their role?”

Without thinking, you took a healthy swallow from your freshly filled glass, mulling over his words. “But why do you get to pick? Plus, if you cut someone’s life short, you’re not just destroying their current contribution but any future ones. Just because someone isn’t doing something important now doesn’t mean they never will. Who are you to deshide?”

“Would you rather choose them yourself?”

“Th- that’s not the point!” you stuttered. “You shouldn’t kill people!”

A frustrated growl rumbled from his throat. “People die every day, for no other reason than they were in the wrong place at the wrong time. My work serves as a reminder to be vigilant. It might make the difference for someone out there.”

He had a point. Nothing served to guide social change quite like the need for safety. People were idiots like that, sacrificing anything just for the illusion of normalcy. But would his work truly accomplish what he hoped for?

Fuck if I know.

You giggled, then leaned back and sighed, too tipsy to continue the debate. A warm buzz saturated your senses, the slightest hint of dizziness only adding to the whimsical mood. Drinking wasn’t so bad, maybe you should do it more often.

“Whose turn was it?” you asked with a crooked smile.

The artist gave you a bemused look and reached for your glass. “It seems wise to stop for now. At least the drinking aspect, that is.”

“Ha. Are you admitting defeat?”

The clatter of glass on wood echoed through the room as he set aside the glasses and bottle, smirking again. Smug bastard. “Not at all. Do your worst.”

You drummed your fingers on the table, assessing options. Curiosity tugged at your mind and danced across your tongue, a myriad of questions begging to be answered. Knowledge is power, as the saying goes.

“What was your first kill like?”

“Messy. It took a few tries to refine the technique,” he replied with a mischievous look. “My turn. Did you enjoy yourself at the museum?”

Though blood already heated your cheeks from drinking, somehow your face managed to heat even more. The beat of your heart quickened, and goosebumps prickled your flesh. You squirmed as your core twitched, the memory enough to slicken your walls. Did you dare to answer? He’d taken away your drink; did you even have a choice?

They don’t call it liquid courage for nothing.

“Yeah, until I had to babysit you and drag your sorry ass here. What’s your full name?”

The ebony-haired man chuckled and took a sip. His glass still wasn’t even half empty.

“You know, my dear doctor… you haven’t returned the favor I performed.”

A snort of humor slipped from your lips. As if you hadn’t already risked everything for him, now he wanted more? But maybe you could turn this to your advantage. It might be fun to make him lose control. Time to change the game. New tactics, since the old ones weren’t working.

Besides, an orgasm might help you sober up.

“Hmm, are you requesting a consult?”

He stood and stepped closer, licking his lips. Bastard.

“Your insight would be greatly appreciated,” he purred.

His voice sent a shudder down your spine. The beige walls of your home spun and you blinked, forcing your eyes to focus through the drunken haze. Between your legs, flames licked at your core and urged you onward, wanton need filling you with daring. Or maybe that was the whiskey.

“I do shpecialize in psychiatry… I suppose I could examine your head.”

The artist’s eyes widened, his pupils blown as you reached for his belt. A single finger hooked around the leather and tugged his body closer, and you scooted to the edge of the chair in preparation with spread legs. The angle wasn’t great, but it was too late to worry about it.

“Tell me alllllll about your symptoms,” you murmured with a sultry smirk. Oh, you’d show him who was in charge all right. No mercy, not even if he begged.

But the accursed man wasn’t yet fazed, his steady hands stroking your cheeks and hair and leaving trails of sparks behind. “I’ve had terrible swelling, and a slight fever…”

You licked your lips and unhooked his belt, giving the buckle a sharp tug to remove it fully. It made a satisfying snap! and you grinned, fingers already teasing at his pants. The tight fabric did little to conceal his engorged cock, and you dragged your thumb over the end with just a hint of pressure.

The resulting groan was all the encouragement you needed; you’d see him come undone tonight. 

Mere heartbeats later, the length you’d glimpsed weeks ago stood before you in all its glory, thick and curved and already shining with arousal. A throbbing vein ran down his length, the perfect target for teasing. Soft as a feather, you dragged the tip of your tongue down the vein. Your heart was racing, sinful desires flooding your system with lust.

“Ah… what treatment would you recommend?”

You smirked at the tension in his normally honeyed voice. This was going to be fun.

“We’ll have to relieve the pressure somehow. You might need regular treatment, too.”

The artist hummed, hooded eyes glittering down at you as his hands guided your lips closer once more. Blood thundered in your ears, anticipation a heady drug as he rested his cock on your lower lip, forcing you to make the next move. His scent tickled at your nose, the first hint of his essence enough to leave you dizzy. You could barely breathe, you wanted to taste him so bad!

How does he smell so good?

“And what are my chances of recovery?”

“Don’t worry, I take excellent care of my patients,” you replied, and then you made your move.

 Your tongue danced across his slit, back and forth until not a drop remained of the creamy sample. Tattooed fingers twitched, his staccato breathing a mark of the effect you had on him. His tangy flavor tingled on your taste buds and summoned lightning across your skin, fanning the flames heating your core. 

“I feel better already,” he crooned.

It almost broke your focus.

Almost.

The smooth, hot flesh of his head was heaven in your mouth as you engulfed him with a soft moan, caressing the ridge with your tongue. Dainty hands drifted up his thighs to grasp his hips and ease him into motion. A low growl escaped his mouth as you hollowed your cheeks and explored his shaft, mapping every inch.

Hellfire and brimstone, he tasted gooooooood. It wasn’t fair how he fit inside your mouth so perfectly, or how his every touch made you shiver. You’d never experienced such intense need, all consuming and impossible to deny.

The artist fisted your hair and snapped forward, tapping at the back of your throat with a muttered curse. Unprepared for the sudden invasion, you gagged on his length but quickly recovered and welcomed him as deep as he’d go, humming as he somehow filled you even more. Hair tickled at your nose and you pulled back, working your tongue and coating him in your saliva.

You paused to press kisses on his toned stomach and bring your hands to help in your efforts, stroking and teasing at the tender area. The murderer shivered under your ministrations, his dark and hungry eyes watching your every move. A sheen of sweat coated his abs, his normally alabaster skin tinged pink in between his intricate tattoos.

“Should I continue?” you asked with a smug smirk.

In response, his hands tangled in your hair and guided your mouth back in place. You didn’t resist, shifting your hips to rub your aching clit against your chair. Ripples of arousal blasted your nerves as you started grinding, whimpers slipping from your crowded mouth. Setting a steady rhythm, you bobbed up and down his length, moaning at his flavor and reveling in the power you held to summon such obscene sounds from his throat. What would it feel like, to have him inside you?

I wanna know…

His rolling hips shattered the lewd images racing through your mind, forcing you back to the present as he blocked your airway. In and out, harder and faster with each moment. Impressive enough to make your jaw ache, but it didn’t matter. You wouldn’t stop until he broke.

A harsh gasp and sudden twitch of his length signaled his imminent release and you pulled away, lips swollen but curled into an impish grin. The expression on his face was perfection, frustrated and hungry and begging for more.

“Well, that’s just cruel,” he said.

You giggled and flicked your tongue across his tip, teasing. A small corner of your mind warned you of the danger of teasing a serial killer, but you ignored it. It was the same voice that told you not to stand out or break the rules, the voice that chained you in normalcy. The power it once held over you seemed so foolish, now.

“You want more?” you asked, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

A low growl rumbled up his chest as he seized your jaw, putting pressure on the hinge until you opened to accept his scorching length. It shocked you to realize how much you enjoyed provoking him, and the sheer thrill of his dominance. You matched his pace, rubbing against the chair to ease the howling need between your thighs. It didn’t help much.

His hands would feel so much better…

But tonight, it was his turn to beg. The moment his grip on your hair loosened, you pulled away again, wiping trails of drool from your lips. “Use your words. Tell me what you want.”

The artist hummed, fingers lazily caressing your cheeks. “I want you.”

His hands drifted lower, exploring your chest and sending shivers down your spine. Sweat glistened on his skin, shimmering over his tattoos like glass catching light. The outline of his body blurred, your vision swimming as he crouched to your level. The look in his eyes stopped your breath.

“I want all of you. Body, mind, and soul. I will settle for nothing less,” he murmured.

And then his lips were on yours, smooth and gentle. Your heart hammered against your rib cage, stomach flipping as your eyes fluttered closed to revel in his flavor. This was an altogether different sort of kiss, leisurely and unhurried yet still deep and passionate. It left you reeling and breathless, craving another the moment he broke away.

“I’d also very much like to see you swallow every drop of my cum.”

Withholding the whimper of need his words summoned proved to be a challenge you couldn’t defeat, and his lips curled into a knowing smirk. Smug bastard, but two could play at that game.

“Well, we do need to finish your treatment,” you purred, fingers teasing at the fabric covering your chest.

His breathing hitched, Adam’s apple bobbing as you pulled the cloth away, your bra barely a heartbeat behind. You bit your lip and leaned forward, taking his saliva covered cock between your breasts. It was sheer decadence to stroke him, your hands dancing with your hardened peaks as they kept him in a tight hold.

V threw back his head and groaned as your lips joined in, tongue teasing at his ridge and slit in turn. Hints of a deeper, sweeter taste leaked onto your waiting taste buds, the promise of his seed making you light-headed.

Lithe fingers gripped your shoulders, tight enough to bruise. Emphatic curses and panted moans slid from his smooth lips, his snapping hips bucking wildly against your body. He tightened again, cock twitching against the roof of your mouth.

You pulled away and smirked at his frustrated groan.

“Accursed woman! D- don’t stop now!”

The chair beneath you creaked as you leaned back, lazily stretching your arms behind you. “Tell me what you want.”

His hands clenched, jaw tight with what could only be rage. Was this the face he showed his victims?

“I want to cum,” he muttered. “Please.”

Hahaha! There it is!

The superiority of victory crashed against your lust like waves on stone. You wanted to dance and shove it in his face that he, the mass murderer, was begging you to let him cum. Oh, how delicious it was to be in control. Just look at him, so desperate and needy he was willing to beg.

“I’ll allow it, since you asked so nicely,” you replied with a grin.

Before you even had time to blink, his swollen head barged past your teeth and deep into your throat, choking you without mercy. Hands wrapped around your neck and tugged at your hair, forcing you into the position he needed. Your own need was forgotten as he pumped against your face without mercy, giving you no chance to draw breath.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” growled the artist.

You moaned and caressed him with your tongue, wet heat encasing him as you pressed your nose into his stomach. The air stank of sex and sweat, whiskey and chicken. The muscles of your jaw screamed for a break but you denied them, putting all your focus on him.

He tightened once more, the grip of his hands refusing to let you withdraw this time. A guttural moan accompanied the first pulse of his release, his hips stuttering and thighs quaking. You didn’t stop, slurping and humming as his cum flooded your mouth. Rope after rope splattered against your throat, filling what little space he wasn’t occupying with his cock and dribbling from your lips to mix with your saliva on his length.

At last, his body relaxed. The last few drops of his euphoria tingled on your tongue as you slowly pulled away, pausing to lick any morsels left behind. It was a flavor you already wanted to taste again.

The room trembled and bucked as he stepped back, still panting in the wake of his pleasure. Your head was spinning, giddiness welling up in a flash. Damn, how much did you drink?

“My dear, dear doctor…”

You couldn’t help it; you cackled, snorting between peals of laughter. “Ha ha, do you- ha! Do you have insurance?”

The artist smirked and pushed the ebony strands away from his face. “I’m afraid not. Perhaps I can offer payment in another form?”

“Heh, I’m sure we can come to an agreement. Come to my office and we’ll discuss it,” you replied, then stood on wobbly legs and stepped toward the staircase, beckoning the artist to follow you. On the second step you paused to dispose of your pants, wiggling your ass a bit more than was strictly necessary. You couldn’t resist putting on a show. Clothes were a stupid idea, anyway.

The next thing you knew, tattooed arms wrapped around you and held you close, one large hand cupping your skull to keep it from hitting the staircase on your way down. Stairs were a stupid idea, too, come to think of it.

“Are you alright?” asked the artist.

Well. So much for putting on a show. Whatever, it didn’t matter. You shot him a grin and rose, dashing up the next few steps with a giggle. Tomorrow, you’d have to send Kotomi a thank you email for the whiskey. The woman had good taste.

The steps trembled under your feet; they weren’t supposed to do that.

“Here, let me help you,” murmured a silken voice.

“Pfft, I’m fine. C’mon,” was your response. You didn’t need help; it was just stairs. You could handle stairs.

Another few steps. The handrail was cool to the touch, but it gave the support you needed. Warm hands hovered behind you, a concerned pair of green eyes watching your every motion. Perhaps that was for the best, as the railing jumped out of your hand and left you off-balance once again.

“Damnit!” you cried, struggling to stay upright as the world shifted like the inside of a kaleidoscope. Color and light, shapes and shadows blended together as you fell, right back into a set of powerful arms.

“Got you, almost there.”

I know, I live here. Thirteen steps. I shouldn’t need help to climb thirteen steps!

---V---

At first it was rather enjoyable to see you indulge your every whim, but by the time the artist managed to get you upstairs the novelty had worn off. Four times, you fell. Four times, he caught you. It would’ve been easier to just carry you like a sack of potatoes.

“Smooth moves, Van Gogh!”

“Shut up, Griffon,” he replied to the blasted bird hovering overhead.

“Griffon? The way you draw him is so pretty,” you commented. “Pretty bird.”

“Hear that? I’m a pretty bird.”

V sighed and helped you to the bed, pausing to pull the blankets back. You lacked the coordination to do much more than collapse into the sheets with another giggle. He felt a slight mirth as well, a subtle tingle of intoxication, but you were obviously worse off.

“Soooo… where’s my payment?” you asked with a smirk.

As much as he craved the sounds you made in the museum, the artist paused. The two of you hadn’t discussed the parameters of your relationship, was it okay for him to make you writhe with ecstasy?

Do it. You know you want to.

He shook his head, casting aside the words. As much as he relied on Vergil for good counsel, the man didn’t place much value in other people. Not the most reliable source for guidance, in this situation. If only he had a canvas; painting always soothed his spirit.

“Why don’t I pay you tomorrow? For now, you should rest,” he finally said.

A petulant frown was his response, but you didn’t resist as he urged you to lie down properly. Your hair was loose, splayed out across the pillow like a splash of blood. “Don’t think you’re getting out of it, okay?”

His fingers itched to plunge inside you, stretch you open and drown in your fluids. The way you’d moan his name, the way your body quivered under his attentions… Quite tempting. He longed to see you wrecked and incoherent, destroyed so that you could at last see the truth.

But not tonight.

“I won’t forget. I promise.”

Satisfied for now, you closed your eyes and snuggled deeper into the blankets, nuzzling the pillows. Someday soon, you would nuzzle his chest instead as he held you, talking quietly about his next piece.

Soon.

The ebony-haired killer stayed by your side until soft snores filled the silence. He reached out to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear with a soft smile. “Hmm, you really are a lightweight, aren’t you?

---------

Kotomi Ishida wrung her hands outside her boss’ office. This was a terrible idea, she should just walk away and get back to updating her patient’s files. Pretend nothing was wrong.

Pretend she hadn’t put her own career above that of her best friend.

It’s all my fault. I should never have accepted this job.

By all rights, she didn’t belong here. The patients terrified her, she hated the commute, the hours sucked and she had no one to talk to since Waras’ suspension. Maybe her mother was right, maybe the psychiatric field wasn’t a good fit for her. 

If only Waras was here. She was such a good listener and always had the best advice. No doubt she’d have a genius way of phrasing things that would make it all fall into place and help her figure out what she was supposed to do.

I miss her…

Kotomi sighed and forced her hands to relax. It wouldn't do to say nothing. The guilt was crushing her, a weight heavier than anything she’d ever known squeezing her heart. She had to at least try to make things right.

Her slim hand rapped against the barely open door, her voice a diminutive whisper. “Dr. Malphas? May I speak with you?”

“Of course, come in,” he replied.

The young woman gathered what little courage she possessed and entered, softly clicking the door closed behind her before taking a seat. Once, her boss’s office felt like a safe haven. A place to escape the horrible people she was responsible for helping. Today, it was a prison.

“Dr. Ishida, what a pleasant surprise! What can I do for you?”

She took a deep breath. “I need to tell you about the day of the fire.”

~~~~Next Chapter~~~~

[rodeoxqueen]

Keeping Up With A Himbo: Vergil (II)- La Méprise

Series Summary: A series of domestically fluffy snippets where the S/O of a Sparda learns just how much of a himbo their lover is.

Work Summary: Vergil misunderstands the pronunciation of a common French pastry. 

Tags/Warnings: Sexual Humor, Explicit Language, Gender-Neutral! S/O, Nero Is Here Too, Implied Sexual Content, Family Bonding, Dadgil Shenanigans 

Rodeo’s Two Pieces: I would write this for Dante but that man would probably do this stunt on purpose and full chaotic intent. 

Ever since Vergil returned from Hell, the devil had made an effort to get to know his son better. Much to the help of you, who Nero grew very attached to. 

With your patience and help, the two were able to somewhat reach each other and establish a bond. 

There was a new French bakery in Redgrave and you insisted on taking both father and son out for lunch. “Bonding time,” you dubbed it.  

The two of them peered over you as you looked at the glass display of tarts and croissants. The smell of butter and sugar had you swooning along with notes of coffee and baked bread dancing through the air. 

“Oh, eclairs. Kyrie loves those things.” 

You got to the register, greeting the cashier with a polite hello. As you would definitely be bringing some treats home and sharing them, you were sure to be generously purchasing many in addition to whatever the Spardas wanted. You were very sure to include Dante, asking for strawberry tarts in another box. 

After all of you had completed saying what you wanted, you reached for your wallet. Nero attempted to pay for some of it but you refused. 

“(Y/N), do you want to have a quickie?” Vergil asked you casually as if he was commenting on the weather. The cashier, a teenager with big red hair, stifled a gasp. You and Nero whipped your heads over to gawk at him. He remained stony, arms crossed with an eyebrow raised at your theatric shock. 

“Vergil what?” 

“You heard me. You enjoy them, I’ve seen your face when you have one.” You slapped his arm, eyes wide. Memories of Vergil trapping you in his strong arms and pinning you against a wall with rushed fervor-

“Vergil, that’s obscene.” You choked out. Nero shoved his dad as a warning yet the man did not budge. 

“What the hell-” 

“Child, I’m asking a genuine question.” 

“It’s a bad question!” 

“What seems to be the problem here?” A manager called herself over, wearing an apron and cap. Before you could stop Vergil, he already started talking. 

“I would like to get a quickie here.” 

“Dad! Stop saying that!” Nero snapped. Vergil almost didn’t recognize that he was addressed accordingly. 

“Oh honey, this is not the place for that.” The manager explained. Vergil made a face of displeasure. 

“What do you mean? I can have quickies in other establishments.” 

The employees were cackling behind the counter, holding onto each other in bewilderment and sheer amusement. The manager had met her match for once. 

“It’s a bit of an insult to assume this shop is meant for that. You must be kidding.”  

“I’m not insulting or kidding anyone.” 

Nero was a sputtering mess, trying to apologize for Vergil while also attempting to move him away from glaring the manager to death. You were also trying to go through with your current order without said sexual reference, hoping to just leave with some of your dignity. 

“Hey, can you hurry up?!” An obnoxious woman with a strangely angled bob demanded. 

“Hush, fool. I am trying to get a quickie here.” 

“Stop saying that!” Vergil growled as an employee walked by with an egg tart in hand. He gestured immediately at the stock-still individual who had no idea what was happening, the tension in the room unparalleled to anything before-seen in customer service. 

“That employee has one on their person as I speak.” 

If jazz was playing before, it would have stopped now. You blinked twice, Nero scratching the back of his head. 

“Vergil, you were talking about a quiche?!” 

“Are you f*cking kidding me,” Nero said, exasperated. 

The manager left after the hubbub was absolved, leaving you with an oblivious Vergil. The youngest Sparda stood there with no words left to say. So obviously, you had to finish your order. 

“Man, anyways. Can I also get some eclairs in a separate box? Let him pick while I pay.” You put your hand on Nero’s shoulder, grinning. He sheepishly went to pick some decadent treats for his girlfriend. 

After that mortifying ordeal, you were quick to give the cashier a giant tip in the jar. Having your shared lunch outside, away from the still-laughing shop clerks, you finally managed to cool down your blush. 

“Thank you for letting me pick these for Kyrie. I was sure we were going to get kicked out.” Nero nudged his father who hmphed in indignance. 

“It’s a good thing your father is a himbo, not a Karen.” 

“I’m still on the fence about that.” Vergil ignored his comment, not knowing what either phrase meant. He didn’t want to know anyway. 

Nero sipped loudly on his iced coffee, observing his father cutting up the troublesome pastry. 

Weeks later, when Nero was on a hunt with his uncle and father, the same story was retold. Dante roared with laughter while Vergil crossed his arms. 

“Oh Verg, I can only imagine (Y/N)’s face when you basically said ‘Hey, can we f*ck here for a hot minute? I can’t? But I do that all the time!’” Dante impersonated his brother, pinching his nose to sound more nasal. 

“So that’s what it means.” 

“Yes, that’s what it means! Ever heard of urban dictionary, bookworm?” 

Recollections of hastily rebuttoned clothes and quickly finger-brushed hair ran through his mind. 

“Why I had one of those this morning-” He said to himself. It fell upon very sensitive ears that were connected to a certain cantankerous quarter-devil who didn’t want to hear it. 

He was quickly clubbed to the face by Nero’s astral fist, sending him flying a few paces away. 

“Bon voyage, shithead.” His son gritted his teeth and stomped off. Dante chuckled, helping his brother up. 

“Well, your kid now knows too much about your sexual history. You’re really getting the hang of being a dad, big bro.” 

“Shut up.” 

[headoverjojo]

I always check if your ask box is open. What a relief to see it didn't say "🚫giogio-xp is no longet allowed here🚫"! If La Squadra boys went to Tonio's restaurant, what would he cook for them so they feel better? I bet it would be funny to see them freak out, like Josuke did at first.

Helloooooo :3 ahahahah!! No no, no fear, your requests are always so interesting and challenging, at most you could see “giogio-xp is more than welcomed here”!! And aaaaa I loved this request, I love to write about food :,) Here we go!! I hope you’ll like it :3

La Squadra di Esecuzione at Tonio’s restaurant

(Under the cut for length!)

Risotto Nero

One look at him, and Tonio immediately understands that Risotto’s main problem is his immense lack of sleep. Even if the Capo has his usual stern and neutral face, Tonio can see the tiredness that peeks from his traits, from the serious line of his mouth, from under his eyes and his frown. Now he knows what he has to cook to make him feel better.

The chef presents him a dish that makes Risotto’s heart leap in his chest: sarde beccafico. He remembers he ate this dish when he was a child, when his uncles came from the sea with a fish so fresh that it seemed ready to bounce around… he still remembers the delicious smell of chopped parsley, anchovy and sultanas that were the stuffing of the sardines, and then all his relatives’ voices and laughs, his mother, father, grandparents, various uncles and cousins, all together to share the meal. It is like going back in time…

Since the first bite, Risotto feels like a weight is being lifted from his shoulders. He’s suspicious, but the chef doesn’t seem dangerous -and he has more than a sixth sense for dangers-, so he gives another try. Again this feeling, this time more intense. The sardines are delicious, like the ones his grandma cooked, and he’s feeling… less tired, he’d say. Keeping his eyes open doesn’t seem anymore a trouble, his muscles seem to be stronger, faster. He didn’t feel like this since years. He also feels lighter in his soul, as his constant mourn and stress have been lifted from him, leaving him, for the first time in years, free, free from mourn, guilt, stress and nervousness. Even if he’s absolutely not old, now he feels young again! It’s like he has finally recovered all the sleepless hours spent in his office doing paperwork or in mission. He’s more than ready, now, to go back to work, stronger than ever!

Prosciutto

Tonio seems to scan Prosciutto, the moment the man enters his restaurant. Oh, so it was it… It doesn’t take long to the chef and his stand to see that Prosciutto smokes, from his slightly labored breath. Now that he knows it, Tonio can work on the right dish to make his customer feel better!

After a little, Tonio brings him a wonderful slice of pizza rustica. Prosciutto sighs, smiling slightly, remembering when his mother gave him, usually around Easter, a slice of it for lunch at school or when he was around Naples’ streets with his friends. So many good memories… a thought, however, lazily swirled in his mind: how did Tonio know that he was from Naples? Still, maybe it was just a coincidence…

Prosciutto knows that the pizza rustica can be spicy, as it has, inside, spicy salami, but so spicy to make him cough smoke? What the hell?! And it doesn’t seem to stop!! Now he knows how his Grateful Dead feels, always spitting smoke… Prosciutto almost tears up from all the coughing and the smoke. It’s a thick, grey smoke, it seems to be endless… until, finally, it stops. He’s still coughing some puffs of smoke, but nothing all. The first thing he pretends to know is what the hell just happened?! And, after Tonio’s explanation, Prosciutto is left completely surprised. That dish… cleared his lungs. Now that Tonio said it, Prosciutto notices that in fact he can breath better… well, so Tonio really didn’t mean to harm him, after all. He releases his Grateful Dead, bringing Tonio to his youth, muttering an apologize. Well, never freaking out an assassin, that’s common sense!

Pesci

Tonio almost don’t even need his Pearl Jam to check what was wrong with Pesci: his posture. Pesci is tall and shy and this leads him to always try to shrink down and hunch all over himself in order to be less noticeable; this, after a while, had its bad effects on his posture and back, to the point that he can’t almost keep his back straight for more than few minutes.

And so, after welcoming him, Tonio goes to cook a delicious baccalà alla napoletana, that he serves him after a little. Pesci is stunned: how did the chef know that that was a dish of his childhood? He and his family lived by the sea, near Naples, and his grandpa and father brought home the fishes they didn’t manage to sell. Baccalà alla napoletana was a common dish, at home, and he loved it so, so much, the wonderful taste of olives, capers, cod and oregano… it was a symphony of flavours.

And, even if Tonio’s isn’t as good as the one he ate when he was a child -super fresh and local ingredients make a huge difference, after all- it still is a delicious dish. Just that, after a couple of bites, Pesci feels strange. His back is hurting more than usual… he yelps when it just snaps straight, raising him up of a good ten centimeters. And, even if his back is completely straight in a correct posture, it doesn’t hurt. This prevents him from calling out Beach Boy and unleashing it on Tonio, but he still pretends an explanation. The chef, after introducing him his stand, explains the benefic effects of the food he cooks, leaving pesci baffled. It is so, then… this explains everything. And so, Pesci leaves the restaurant with a new back and the recommendation to not hunch over himself again, but to walk proudly and with a straight back!

Formaggio

Pearl Jam immediately notices that Formaggio’s problem is in his liver. Tonio assumes that his customer is a drinker, and he isn’t wrong; Formaggio, even if he’s not an alcoholic, likes to go out, alone or with his teammates, to have a good drink, especially after missions, but this, on the long run, has a bad effect on his liver; effect that Tonio is ready to erase with a dish!

Formaggio recognizes the smell even before Tonio brings the dish on the table: carciofi alla romana. He never forgot that smell that so often impregnated the air in the run-down apartment block where he lived. His neighborhood, a old lady who had more grandchildren and nephews than years, when she cooked artichokes in that way, always gave a portion to Formaggio, knowing that his father wouldn’t have ever cooked for him even if Formaggio was just a child. When he could eat those delicious artichokes filled with garlic, parsley and pennyroyal it was always a feast and this memories stays in his mind also now in this restaurant.

Immediately after the first, blissful bite, Formaggio starts to sweat. He immediately recognizes it isn’t a normal sweating, as his sweat smells of alcohol. What the hell?! What is this?! He immediately fears an enemy stand attack and, since he started to sweat right after the first bite of artichokes, the first one to be suspected is Tonio himself. Immediately calling out Little Feet, Formaggio, panting and sweating, pretends an explanation that is quickly given; at Tonio’s words, Formaggio stumbles back, surprises. A stand that heals others through food? Amazing. And, following Tonio’s instructions to check himself, Formaggio notices that, in fact, he’s fine, no, more than fine: he never felt so light! His right side, which always hurt, now it’s perfectly ok; he feels fantastic! Formaggio takes note of that place: he could always come back to fix some other ache, one day…

Melone

It doesn’t take a genius to understand what’s wrong with Melone: he’s seriously underweight. His body would be slender even if he’d eat, but, since he’s always focused on his stand or one of his experiments, he often forgets to eat and this, in time, led him to be so underweight. Guess Tonio will have to give him the right nourishment!

And Tonio, after a little, comes back to his customer with a good dish full of grifi. Melone’s eyes almost stings, as that so familiar smell permeates his nostrils: he remembers so well when his mother cooked it for him and his siblings, he remembers the strong and delicious smell of tomato paste, onions, cloves, thyme and red wine, the ingredients that made beef meat so special… he sighs, with a small smile, almost seeing her smiling at him, that bright smile that made him forget about his father’s violence, for a little. This really is a throwback…

Melone, even when he eats, takes usually few bites and nothing more. His stomach is not used anymore to eat a proper meal, but Melone never cared a lot about it: as long as his muscles and organs function properly, there’s nothing to worry about. But this time is different: he doesn’t stop after a couple of bites. Even if slowly, he finishes the meal; the first to be surprised by this fact is Melone himself. He doesn’t even remember the last time he ate so much… and looking at himself, he notices some changes. His arms aren’t anymore so bony, as his legs and torso. Not fat and neither too thin, but… normal. As he didn’t see himself since long. Could just a meal do something like this?! More curious than scared, he asks Tonio to explain, listening, intrigued, to his explanation about Pearl Jam’s powers. A stand that works for health… finally something interesting!

Illuso

Illuso’s problem is less obvious than what it may seem, as he’s very careful not to show it around. Still, Tonio spotted it quickly, when Illuso squinted to focus on the cook: the assassin’s sight is pretty poor. Still, thanks to his stand, Illuso always managed to fool not only his enemies, but his teammates too, since he despises glasses and can’t wear contact. He couldn’t fool Tonio, however!

And so, after checking him with Pearl Jam, welcoming him and then going back in the kitchen, Tonio comes back with a dish that Illuso hasn’t eaten since ages: polenta e schie, a typical venetian dish. He still remembers when he went with his friends to fish schie, typical small lagunar shrimps, and then, back home, he always was served a slightly richer dish, since he worked to fish the shrimps. He still remembers the silky and delicate flavour of polenta and the strong and tasty flavour of the shrimps and how they perfectly mixed… it reminds him few good memories he has of home, of his Venice, and, for once, he softly smiles.

When he can finally savour the first bite, his eyes start to sting. It’s strange… they sting as before a royal cry. And so it happens: he starts to tear up and he can’t stop it. He doesn’t even know why he’s crying!! He doesn’t feel like crying, but his eyes are tearing up so much, like never before, as if he’s under a powerful allergic attack. He can’t even see anymore, with all those tears in his eyes, he tries to dry them as much as he can but nothing seems to work… until, as suddenly as they started, the tears stop. Illuso can finally dry properly all the tears and, when he opens his eyes, to his utter stupor he… sees. He can see again, he sees so good that he can’t believe it. He doesn’t need to squint anymore to focus on Tonio’s smiling face, as he’s seeing him perfectly. How the hell…? He doesn’t freak out, hearing the chef’s words and seeing Pearl Jam. It’s really a useful stand, and frankly he has seen weirder stands… Pearl Jam is kinda cute, other than useful.

Ghiaccio

Someone would think that Ghiaccio’s main problem is his sight, seen the glasses, but it’s not so. His main problem is his bones. He always had fragile bones, he always had the tendency to break his limbs. Even now he slightly limps on his right side, as his right leg didn’t heal as it should. That’s why Ghiaccio prefers to skate than walking: when he skates, he has White Album’s support and he doesn’t limp.

Tonio’s attentive eyes immediately notices that Ghiaccio is limping, even if it was so slight to almost be unnoticeable. So, he goes back to the kitchen to prepare the right dish for him: panissa. Ghiaccio is silent and full of stupor, when he sees Tonio serving him a dish he ate so many times in his childhood and teenager years and that he hadn’t eaten or smelled since so long… it’s like he never left Piedmont. The smell of rice, beans, onions, salam d’la duja and wine brings him back to his youth, to the long afternoon spent in the ice skating track, when he still dreamed to be a top tier athlet, when Olympic Games seemed so near to reach, before his world crumbled down… luckily for everyone around, the panissa brings just happy memories, so no one is in danger, for the moment.

However, after a couple of bites, Ghiaccio freezes. His bones are hurting like hell, it’s like a hammer is hitting them again and again, as to mold them. The pain is so intense to be almost unbearable!! It’s worse to be poisoned, he doesn’t even have terms of comparison for this pain. The temperature in the room drops dramatically and instantly, as Ghiaccio stares, with a murderous look, at Tonio, whose breath now comes in steam puffs, and gets up, charging at him without even calling White Album out. He doesn’t need his stand to beat the shit out of someone. But, before he can actually unleash his anger, Tonio asks him if he noticed that he came to him without limping. Blinking in surprise, Ghiaccio takes few steps back, noticing, as Tonio said, that he’s not limping. He broke his leg when he was 15, he almost doesn’t remember how it is not limping… and, after Tonio’s explanation, he finally lets the temperature go back to normality, to Tonio’s utter relief. Ghiaccio is more than enthusiast: now that he doesn’t limp anymore, he’s even stronger than before and nothing can stop him, now!