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that-gay-guy-from-hell · 2 years ago

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The Scent of You: Nero x Male Reader

MINORS DNI: THIS IS FOR 18+ ONLY (ngl I don't know if this stuff is allowed here, but I think it is lmao)

SUMMARY: Nero has been on a job for almost a month. When he returns to your shared home, he decides to relax and take a hot shower. While doing so, he gets really horny and tries to control himself. However, your scent is driving him up the wall with need. 🌟🌟🌟 🌟🌟🌟 🌟🌟🌟 Wrote this to try and get a better feel for what I want Nero to be like; kinda what I did with Vergil ngl. ... I didn’t realize it till typing this, I am legit doing the same thing I did for Vergil for Nero because I had the same issue--wtf lmaooo 🌟🌟🌟 I also was having a hard time describing certain locations on the body; so there are some “real” names for muscles and whatnot; sorry if that throws you off a bit lmao. 🌟🌟🌟 Semi-mindless smut. Minor fluff. Very minor description of masturbation (Nero). Pre-established relationship; implied marriage. First time Devil Trigger sex; mentions of blood (which Nero gets aroused by) and knotting Male Bottom Sub. Reader x Top Dom. Nero (side note: Nero does use his teeth on your dick; I know it’s not everyone’s cup of tea, but I wanted to write it in idk). 🌟🌟🌟

The van ride from the DMC to Nero’s was abnormally quiet. The only noise was the van's engine and the faint humming that Nico made to the tunes on the stereo. That being said, a nuke could've gone off and Nero, who was sitting in his usual spot on the passenger seat, wouldn't have noticed. The teal demon had zoned out a long time ago. He was looking out the window, watching the buildings pass as they got further toward the outside edge of Red Grave.

It had been one hell of a month for the youngest descendant of Sparda. Between having to work alongside the rest of the Sparda line and the contract being a bigger pain than they were informed; he was beyond exhausted. All Nero wanted to do was take a hot shower, eat something, and cuddle into you.

He groaned in irritation; God did he miss you. All that he could think about the past week or so was how much he yearned to hold you in a tight loving hug. Feeling your heartbeat against his chest, running his fingers through your hair, kissing your sweet face and lips--there are no words to even describe how much the young devil hunter craved you.

“Welp, here we are,” Nico spoke and gestured to the house in front of the van; breaking Nero from his thoughts, “Don’t forget any of your shit now, alright?”

Nero scoffed and rolled his eyes, “You’re never going to let that go are you?”

“Not a chance,”

He got up from the passenger seat, “Figures--” with a smooth motion he grabbed Red Queen and his duffle bag of gear from the couch, “Thanks for the ride, asshole.”

“Anytime, dickhead!” Nico waved a short goodbye as Nero departed from the van onto the asphalt.

He watched the van drive off for a moment; attempting to gather himself. Nero hadn’t told you he was coming home and wanted to surprise you-- hopefully, you won’t stab him thinking he is an intruder (again). With a springing giddiness to his walk, he went up to the front door. It took him a moment of rummaging in his pockets for him to find his keys.

Upon finding them, he unlocked the doorknob and deadbolt as quietly as he could. Once inside, he slowly shut the door behind him. Nero focused for a moment, trying to place where you were in the house; he found out you were in the kitchen through your heartbeat. Discarding his bag on the floor and leaning Red Queen up against the wall, he crept toward your location. You were turned away from him doing something on the counter, not paying any attention to the stalking paces of the sly hunter.

“Miss me, baby?” a set of muscular arms wrapped around your torso making you jolt forward and knock your head backward into Nero’s jaw.

“Jesus-!” you shouted as your heart raced.

Nero chuckled as he kissed the top of your head, “Not quite, but, at least you didn’t stab me this time.”

“No,” you looked down at the cutting board on the counter in front of you, “I just stabbed myself instead.”

“What.”

Nero removed his arms from your waist. You casually walked over to the sink to rinse your newly formed cut on your hand’s purlicue. Blood didn’t bother you much since Nero’s constantly covered in it, however, the placement of this particular cut is going to be a bitch to heal.

Nero re-wrapped himself around your waist and pouted, “Sorry.”

With a grin and shake of your head, you turned off the water. Feeling how warm he was, you couldn’t help but lean back into your teal devil, “It’s fine, Nero… I’m glad you’re home.”

Nero grabbed the cut hand and gently placed a kiss on the small wound, “There, good as new.”

A loud snort of a snicker came from your nose, “Oh my god, Nero,” you wiggled in his arms to turn and face him, “you are a dork.”

He winked and smiled, “and I’m yours forever.”

With an exaggerated roll of your eyes, you gently kissed his cheek, “I’m the luckiest man alive.”

“Nope, sorry. That title’s mine,” he placed tender kisses on your neck.

The feeling of his warm lips against you sent a shiver up your spine. You placed one of your hands in his hair and ruffled it a bit. Nero’s kisses stopped and turned into nuzzling as you continued your motion; the teal demon practically melted into you.

Your face turned to a scrunch and you removed your hand. His hair was full of dried blood.

“Nero--” you looked down at him, who was now staring at you with the most puppy-dog-eyed stare you’ve ever seen, “Don’t give me that look…”

He stuck out his lip in a pout and made a fake sniffling sound, “Why’d you stop?”

“You’re full of blood and stuff,” you gently took your hand and placed it on his cheek, thumbing over his soft skin, “You need a bath.”

With a sigh, he stopped pouting, “Care to join me~?”

“I would but,” you looked over to the stove, “the soup won’t cook itself.”

Nero stood back upright with the energy of a small child, “You’re makin’ soup?!”

“Yeah…” you laughed at his excitement, “You told me last week that you were coming home so I bought the stuff for it… It was gonna go bad if I waited any longer so,” you shrugged, “I made soup.”

“God, I love you,” He kissed your forehead, “You need any help?”

With a shake of your head, you responded, “Nope; just for you to wash up before dinner--please?”

“Sure thing babe,” with a large over-the-top kiss (and a 'mwah' sound to go with it), he trotted off.

Shaking your head with a smile, you continued your cooking.

The young hunter went and retrieved his bag and Red Queen from the entryway. Then waltz over to the bedroom. He tossed the bag off to the side and set his sword against one of the walls; leaving them to deal with later. Mindlessly, Nero grabbed some clothes and a towel.

He sauntered into the bathroom and stripped himself bare--removing his Overture devil breaker as well. With the flip of a switch, he turned on the bathroom fan and moved to turn on the shower. Since his body was aching, Nero decided to turn the knob as hot as he could; creating an almost sauna-like feel to the bathroom.

A sigh of relief left his lips as he stepped into and under the scorching water. Nero began to purr in comfort as he felt the stress and strain of the past month leave his body. He reached for some body wash--not paying much attention to his actions. It wasn’t until he began to lather his body that he realized that it wasn’t his body wash; it was yours.

“Shit,” Nero mumbled to himself.

It’s not that the young hunter disliked the smell of your wash; he loves it and that’s the problem. A strained growl emanated from his throat. The smell of you drives Nero insane normally; however, due to the past month of being around his family constantly, Nero was beyond pent-up. Typically he wouldn’t have had any problems asking for some physical affection, but he didn’t want to seem rude for being home less than an hour and already asking for sex. So, the young man decided to take care of it himself.

Nero bit down on his lip as he slowly began to stroke himself. He leaned forward, placing a flat hand against a tile wall of the shower. Admittedly, his demon was screaming to go get you and claim you; which only made him bite down harder on his lip. Blood trickled down his chin as he began to move his hand faster; fantasizing about what he would do if you were there with him. How good it would feel to ram you against the wall. The sound of your strained moans while he choked you. His hand would be around your cock as you trembled beneath him; only allowing you to cum when he said so. Nero’s pace became ragged. His fingers pressed against the wall hard enough they were turning white. He imagined telling you how much of a good boy you were being. The sound of your voice as you begged to be allowed to cum. That thought broke him. A loud guttural groan slipped past Nero’s (still-bleeding) lips as he came.

Slowly coming back down from his high, Nero finished showering; this time paying close attention to what wash he was using. Trying to ignore the still very lustful thoughts that lingered at the edges of his mind.

===

It had nearly been forty-five minutes since Nero went to shower; a part of you was beginning to worry that he fell asleep while bathing. Since all the soup had left to do was simmer, you decided to leave the kitchen to find out if he was okay.

First, you checked the bathroom. It was muggy and the showerhead still had water dripping from it. Nero’s devil breaker was still resting on the countertop, which made you raise a brow in confusion; however, he wasn’t in there. So you moved on to the bedroom.

What you came upon was quite a sight.

On the bed, Nero was facing upwards. His legs were lazily hung over the edge of the bed that was facing you. Around his hips was a towel that had been thrown on as an afterthought; seeing as it was barely covering anything besides his dick. You bit your lip slightly at the sight. Despite seeing your lover naked a thousand times, it still managed to give you butterflies.

Nero hadn’t moved to acknowledge that you were in the doorway, so you decided to get a closer look. In the past, he had taken some unintentional cat naps after a hot shower; so you figured that’s what happened.

You peered over his body. His eyes snapped to you; both his eyes were glowing his goldenrod coloration from his triggered form. In an instant, Nero had pulled you onto the bed and had you pinned beneath him. The towel had been discarded and it took everything in your body to not look downwards; not wanting to break eye contact. One of his hands held both of your wrists above your head while the other gently ran up your middle. A faint growling caught your attention as you tilted your head slightly.

He leaned into your neck and lightly kissed along your jugular. A shiver ran through your body, Nero’s breath was hot and the growling had only grown louder. Although this would have typically been super hot, the fact that he hadn’t said anything was a bit odd.

“Nero--?” your voice was laced with an aroused, yet, confused tone.

His kisses stopped and he stilled for a moment. He moved up to your face and placed his cheek against yours; which you noted was scorching. Along with that, he also pressed the rest of his body into you. You felt his stiff cock grind against the ever-growing tent in your pants.

“I’m sorry but,” Nero’s voice was needy as he gently bit your earlobe, “I need you, please .”

Another shiver ran through your body, “I- I have to turn off the stove f-first.”

Nero sat back upward narrowing his eyes and placed a hand on your chest, “Stay,” with that, Nero got up and left the room (presumably to turn off the stove for you.).

This gave you a brief moment to think, “ Nero doesn’t usually growl like that… I wonder if-- ” your thoughts were cut short.

A set of bioluminescent blue wings moved you to the center of the mattress. Not wasting any time, Nero was back on top and straddling you. His lips were immediately intertwined with yours. A hot tongue was forced within the confines of your mouth, desperately exploring every corner. He used his wings to pin your wrists out to your sides as he used his hands to strip you of your clothing; not caring that he was ripping them from your body.

Once you were barren of your clothing, Nero broke off the kiss and leaned back upwards--and let go of your wrists. You were panting heavily and awaited his next move.

His eyes fluttered all over your body as barely-there fingertips ghosted down your body, only to stop before reaching your aching flesh, “God,” he leaned back down and whispered against your shoulder, “you’re gorgeous.”

Nero bit down on your shoulder and gripped your middle. Your body arched upwards as you grabbed a hand full of his slate-grey hair, pulling slightly. His growling intensified as did his bite.

“Fuck-” you pulled Nero off of you a bit, “Nero that hurt.”. He looked up at you with an intense stare you hadn’t seen before. Seeing the slightly red tint to his lips made you realize that he had actually bitten you, “Nero?”

His lips parted slightly as he continued to stare into your eyes and, after a moment, he spoke, “Sorry.”

His grip loosened on your body slightly and he placed a gentle peck on your new bite mark. Admittedly this had happened before but it had only happened when he was cumming.

Squashing down your questions and concerns (blaming it on your long separation), you whispered, "It's okay," following that with a gentle kiss on his neck. Knowing that Nero tends to dwell on accidentally hurting you when sleeping together, you decided to move things forward by leaning upwards.

However, he used his wings to pin your wrists down once again as his hands pushed you back down into the plush bedding, "What do you think you're doing?" his voice was low and husky; just oozing with dominance.

A slight confusion settled in your mind, seeing as Nero had never stopped you from moving to give him head. You decided that he was just adding to the foreplay, "I wanted to have a taste of you~"

He ran his tongue along your neckline, "I didn't tell you that I wanted you to move, in fact," Nero sat upward, "I want you right where you are…" he firmly grabbed your external obliques, leaving his hands temptingly close to your hips.

You swallowed hard. Seeing Nero taking such an intense approach to things after not being together for so long made your body ache and your cock twitch--which he noticed.

With a devilish smirk, Nero slowly began to kiss down your middle. Stopping every few to give you a hickey or bite mark; taking extra care to make sure he wasn’t being too rough. You squirmed under his firm grasp of wings and hands. It was uncommon for Nero to go down on you; typically, Nero enjoyed frotting against you instead. Seems he really wants to step out of the norm today.

A bite against your inner thigh pulled you from your thoughts. A loud sharp moan escaped your lips as you, unintentionally, bucked your hips upward. Nero growled at your movement and placed his hands harshly down on your hips, keeping them pinned down.

"Nero," you whimpered, desperately wanting to touch him and yourself.

His golden eyes met with yours, "Be a good boy or I stop--got it?" Wanting him to continue, you nodded frantically, making him smirk, "Good."

Tepid kisses ran up your inner thighs. Before he reached your balls, he would stop and place a hickey on the sensitive flesh; creating matching marks on each side. Nero looked up at you; his stare was different. A strange semi-nervous feeling began to pool in your stomach at the predatory gaze of your lover.

The young man placed kisses along your balls and up to the tip of your dick, giving your slit a small kitten lick. Nero’s lips were broiling hot against your skin, which only added to the effects of the uncommon action. You bit your lip and let out a strangled groan; resisting the urge to buck your hips again. Nero seemed to notice your restraint and rewarded you with a long drawn-out kiss to the underside of your cock head.

He smirked as he watched your internal struggle to stay composed. His tongue ran along the slit of your tip; cleaning the small amount of pre-cum there was.

“You taste good,” he whispered as he ran his tongue up the side of your shaft. You whimpered as he continued his teasing; never quite putting his lips around you.

“Nero,” your voice was whiney and laced with need. He looked up at you and gave you a small ‘hm?’ as he continued his ministrations along your cock, “please--” you gasped as you felt his teeth carefully and gently nibble along the side of your dick, “f-fuck--”

He stopped for a moment; debating what he wanted to do. A part of him wanted to keep teasing your sensitive flesh and the other wanted to hear you cry out for him. Seeing the desperation in your eyes as you stared down at him made him shudder.

Slowly, Nero placed his lips around the tip of your dick and inched his way down to the base of your dick; gagging slightly as it hit the back of his throat.

You threw your head back, “Fuck- Nero--”

His growling intensified upon hearing your voice. Nero pulled his head back up and removed his lips, “I want you to look at me,” his eyes met with yours as he bobbed slowly up and down your dick.

All the while, the grip his wings had on your wrists let go and he allowed you to grab his hair. Using his blue-feathery extensions, he reached over to the side table and grabbed a bottle of lube from the drawer--dropping it near your hips for later. He then took his wings and used them to push your hips into the bed, replacing his hands. As he continued to slow down and speed up on your cock, he took his hands and gently groped at the under and inner sides of your thighs.

Nero’s eyes stayed locked with yours as he pulled his lips off of your dick and bite down over one of the already-there hickeys on your thighs. Then gave the tip of your dick a few more licks and then circled the tip, all the while you were praising and moaning your lover’s name.

“Nero, please-- fuck, I-- ugh,” your hands pulled harder on his hair as he took your dick and placed it against his cheek, his breath grazing your aching flesh.

A shiver ran up your spine as you stared into his eyes; the primal feeling held in his stare only increased with each of your words and sounds. Once again his mouth took your dick in; this time, however, he kept a faster pace. One of his hands moved to the base of your shaft, adding small strokes alongside the movements of his mouth.

You felt your peak coming on, which Nero seemed to notice too. He moved his hand from your dick to your balls, massaging them slightly. The tip of your dick hit the back of his throat again; as he made sure to take in as much of you as he could. With a loud groan of Nero’s name, you came into his mouth. He made sure to savor every drop, still staring you in the eyes.

You expected Nero to pause a minute before continuing, as you normally would; however, before you had even come back down from your euphoria, he was back up on top of you--kissing you wildly. There was a fire in his lip's motions as he felt you grope at every inch of his body; enjoying being able to finally touch your teal demon. A small moan left Nero’s lips as you kneaded into his chest.

After a minute or two, Nero stopped kissing you and moved out of his straddling position, “Turn over.” the growling had now become interlaced with his voice; reminding you of his devil trigger.

“You’re quite dominating today…” you flipped over, “it’s pretty hot.”

You could practically feel him smirk at your comment, but he said nothing; only pushing a lubed-up finger inside of your ass.

He leaned down and began to kiss along your shoulder as he mumbled, “You’re tight; although you seem to have prepped for me-?”

A small smile tugged at your lips, “I cleaned up before coming to find you; figured you were going to-- ah~”

Nero bit down on your shoulder and began to leave yet another loving mark, “What a good boy.”

You moved your head to allow him to bite your neck; which he moved to do right away. He pushed another finger into your hole. Nero was dying to fuck you and was steadily growing impatient with things.

However, he knew that he had to take it slower than normal; since you were much tighter with him being gone so long. So he had to control himself, which did by continuing to bite along your shoulders, neck, and back.

After another few minutes, he slid a third digit inside you. At this point, you were as desperate as he was, “Nero I can take it,”

The twisting of his fingers stopped as did his kisses, but he didn’t move, “Beg.”

Your heart skipped a beat, “What?”

His voice was husky against your ear, the growling only getting worse with each passing moment, “Beg for me.”

Nero had never asked for you to beg before and you took a long shaky breath before mumbling, “Please, Nero.”

“I didn’t quite catch that,” one of his wings yanked your head back allowing him even more access to your neck, “louder. ” he harshly bit down on your neck; much harder than before.

“Fuck!” you jerked your body from the unexpected sharp stinging of his teeth, “Please, Nero-- I need you inside me!”

He licked the fresh wound he created in your neck, “Good boy.”

You let out a whimper as you felt Nero remove his fingers. However before you got too lonely, you felt his hands on your hips. Nero took a deep breath as he lined himself with your needy hole; teasing you slightly.

“Please Nero, please, ” you slightly rolled your hips against him, encouraging him to continue.

His lip twitched upwards as he let out a dark snarl. Suddenly, he slammed himself inside of your body; not allowing you to take him slowly.

“Fuck!” your body jolted forward from the force of his thrust as your hands violently grasped at the bedding beneath you. Tears had sprung up to the edges of your eyes as you tried to steady yourself by breathing slowly.

Seeing movement out of the corner of your eyes, you looked over to one side. Nero had braced himself with his palms on the mattress. Which was fine; however, your breath hitched upon seeing the ever-growing blue and iron-grey scales crawling up his arms.

“Nero-” you squirmed a bit, “I want to see you--please?” your voice was soft in hopes he would listen to you.

Which he did. He pulled himself out of you and flipped you over. This allowed you to get a better idea of what was going on.

Nero’s breathing had become quite labored. His brow was furrowed slightly and his eyes were still golden; however, his pupils had dilated heavily--something that you had never seen before--and was avoiding looking you in the eyes. Long hair covered his face and was sprawling down his back. And although his forearms were covered in scales, the rest of him was still quite human. A twitch of his lip revealed a much sharper set of teeth than normal. You could see the internal conflict he was having over this.

“Hey,” you placed a hand on his cheek, which he leaned into, “It’s okay. I can take it.”

His eyes met with yours, his voice barely audible, “What if I hurt you…”

With a warm soft smile, you gently caressed him with your thumb, “You won’t, Nero. I promise. You can let go.”

In reality, you had no idea if you were going to be fine. Nero had already bitten you hard enough to make you bleed, twice, and he tended to kiss along very vulnerable parts of your body. Over all the years you have been with the teal devil, he had never triggered during sex nor had either of you broached the subject before.

Nero allowed himself to let go as you continued to hold the side of his face; watching the metamorphosis before you. A new poking caught your attention as you looked down towards your hips. His cock grew several inches and became thicker; which, in hindsight, you should’ve thought about before agreeing.

Without wasting another moment, Nero animalistically shoved himself back inside you.

With a sharp gasp, you sputtered in response, “f-fuck, f-fuck, s-shit,” your head hit the bed as you continued your strand of ‘fucks’ and ‘shits’.

He placed his hands around your hips and pulled his cock out; barely leaving the tip inside. Only to slam into you twice as hard; not allowing you to slowly adjust to the large cock inside you.

The teal demon’s pace was brutal. You were going to stroke yourself; however, the bucking of his hips against your prostate negated the need for that. He used his wings to brace behind your shoulders and pulled you up to him. His kisses were scorching and filled with an unyielding lust. You had tried to break from his kiss, only to be brought right back with a growl to accompany it.

When Nero finally did decide to let you out of the kiss, he noticed that he had nicked your chin with one of his spikes. With a swift motion, your lover lapped up the blood that had trickled from the wound; which aroused you, much to your confusion and concern.

However, your thoughts were silenced as he pushed you into the bed with a choke. His hand gripped around your neck; making sure to keep it at a comfortable squeeze--the last thing he wants is for you to pass out.

You moaned loudly, arching your back as his wings gripped your legs and pulled them upwards; holding them above the ridges of his shoulders. The other hand slowly raked up your torso, leaving light claw marks up your middle. He brought his claws up to his lips and licked your blood clean off of them. If you had been able to think, you would’ve been afraid of how much Nero seemed to enjoy tasting your blood.

His once hard languid motions became hard uneven motions. You knew that meant he was getting close, you were too. He moved your legs back down, so he could get closer to you. The devil’s hot breath washed over your neck as you gripped the base of his horns, massaging them slightly. This rewarded you with even harder slams of his strong hips.

“God,” your voice was hoarse and cracked slightly, “I love you.”

Nero nuzzled your neck in response.

You whimpered as his thrusts became short and even harsher, “Please, I need you-- Ah~!”

His sharp teeth bit down into your platysma muscle; making yet another deep puncture through your soft flesh. Nero’s hips aggressively ground into yours and forced something larger inside of you; making you jerk your hips and hiss in pain.

A few minutes passed as he kept his teeth locked into your body and his cock buried deep into you. Despite that, however, you could feel that cum had already begun to leak from your body. Your insides were twitching as you felt him pull his hips back a little but he was unable to remove himself. Whatever had been pushed into you was keeping the both of you intimately interlocked.

You had a tired smile on your face as you gently pet his hair and his horns. Nero had begun to purr from your soft touches. You’d hoped that maybe he would relax enough to pull himself from your body; even if you weren’t 100% sure of what was going on.

After another few minutes, Nero pulled back on his hips again. This time he was able to remove himself with an audible ‘pop’. Your hips quaked as you groaned from the feeling of his hot seed dripping down your overly-sensitive body. He released his bite on your body, making you shut your eyes and cuss in pain.

Nero had gotten up from the bed before you reopened your eyes. Attempting to get a better idea of what was going on, you tried to sit upward. However, the feeling of sharp intense pain shot up your body. So you gave up on the idea of trying to move.

“ Maybe he went to get a towel? ” you thought to yourself, feeling a bit lonely without him.

You were nearly asleep by the time Nero came back into the room.

“Hey, baby,” Nero’s voice was soft. He walked over to the bed with a towel in hand, “I drew up a bath, stay still a minute.” his voice was quiet enough that his words came off as more of a question than a statement. Your young lover used the towel to wipe your body and ass off a bit as he sat at the corner of the bed; secretly enjoying the view of your undone body.

“Nero-” you propped yourself up on your elbows with a grunt. He looked up at you, his eyes were now back to his normal sea-blue eyes, “Why were we… uh… stuck together?”

His eyes widened as a faint blush tugged at his face, “I um…” he swallowed audibly and laughed to himself, “I knotted you.”

It was your turn to go wide-eyed and blush, “What?”

“It’s used to--”

“I know what it does,” you laughed and avoided his eyes, letting yourself lay back down, “just didn’t know you could do that.”

The younger hunter grinned at you as he stood, “There’s a lot I can do with that side of me; I just worry about what those things are.”

He moved to your side and picked you up to take you to the bathroom. You tiredly mumbled into his shoulder, “If you want, we can experiment more with your demonic side; I’m okay with it.”

Nero smiled. He sat in the bath with you in his lap so he could help clean you off, “Sure, I-” his smile quickly faded, turning to a frown, “Did I--?” his fingers lightly brushed over the final bite that he had left, making you unintentionally wince.

It had turned to a dark purple, almost black coloration, and was still bleeding quite badly. Nero looked as if he was about to cry as he stared at you with a furrowed brow. You gently grabbed his hand and removed it from the bite, “I’m fine Nero. It’s not that big of--”

“I hurt you,” Nero pursed his lips as he let out a shaky breath noticing the claw marks down your middle, “I could have killed you; you know that right? Using that form--” he pulled his hand back from yours.

“Nero, look at me,” you used your hands to cup the sides of his face, “I wouldn’t have let you do that if I didn’t want it; besides, I trust you.”

“But--”

“No buts,” you gently rubbed his face with your thumbs, “We both enjoyed ourselves, right?”

He nodded.

“And I am still alive; aren’t I?”

Once more, he nodded.

“So we are both okay?”

Nero nodded finally looking back at your face.

“I understand your concern but… you aren’t a mindless beast, you know? ” Nero placed his hands gently over the top of yours, “I know what I signed up for and I trust you, Nero; completely and entirely,” you could hear a very faint purr coming from him.

He took each of your hands and placed a slow soft kiss on each, “Trusting a demon, huh? Not the smartest thing to do.”

A loving smile spread across your face, “Then consider me the happiest idiot around.”

Nero laughed with a wide grin, “I really love you,” he sighed contently, “so fuckin’ much.”

---

Hope I did Nero justice with this and that y'all enjoyed this little story! Wasn't sure how to end this, so forgive me if it is abrupt lmao. 🌟🌟🌟 Thank you so much for reading!! :)))

Want to see more like this? Want to read my work quicker and several stories that are not on Tumblr? Check this out on my AO3 (Linked here)

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tenthgrove · 2 years ago

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Since AO3 is down and it looks like it may be a little while before it’s back up again, here’s a backup of most of my fics and a few of @pseudo-possum’s. The front page of each document has all the details you would normally find when opening a fic on Ao3, so I would ask minors not to look at anything labelled explicit.

Please do let me know if there are problems!

#la squadra #risotto nero #risotto nero x reader #la squadra x reader #Ao3

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leighsartworks216 · 4 months ago

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Search and Rescue

Zayne x gn!Reader

I swear one day I'll write another Zayne fic that has absolutely nothing medical in it at all

Warnings: hurt/comfort, some angst, blizzards/snowstorms, blood, injury, minor character death, self-sacrifice, hypothermia, dialogue heavy, established relationship

Word Count: 3,333 (I did this on purpose >:3)

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When the weather reports come in, so too do the calls for you and Zayne. Jenna needs you on duty to help anybody who gets trapped in the oncoming blizzard, and Zayne needs to be at the hospital to help emergency patients and those sheltering from the storm.

It’s hours before the storm is supposed to roll in when you begin getting ready. Zayne helps you find heavy-duty waterproof gloves and don enough layers to keep you moderately warm while you work. You pack Zayne emergency snacks and drinks. He tucks one of the protein bars into your coat pocket.

The tension of the danger that lies ahead is palpable. Rescue missions aren’t unusual for either of you, but keeping up with communication and the unpredictable nature of what could happen will make things very tricky, very fast.

You hold his hand as he drives to the hospital. The Alpha Team will be setting up base there to account for the high influx of patients. The perimeter will reach a few blocks. Whether you stay within it remains to be seen.

It would be hypocritical of him to tell you not to risk your life for the sake of another, more so than his usual hypocrisy when it comes to taking care of himself, so he doesn’t say that. Instead, he tells you, “Don’t be reckless.”

You smile. “I won’t be,” you promise.

Both of you know it’s a lie, whether you intend for it to be or not. You’ve always thrown yourself into danger at the drop of a hat. Now, as a Hunter, the danger keeps growing, and you still charge head-first into it.

He squeezes your hand.

The hospital bustles with preparations. Gurneys are lined along the halls, prepared to be filled once the last of the rooms fill up. Nurses are preparing stations to provide food, drinks, and blankets to anybody who needs it. Doctors offer contingency plans for a million different hypotheticals while dictating what patients should go where.

Jenna and your team help where they can. Nero is setting up a communication station that should make it possible to keep in touch during the storm. Tara is helping to set up Hunter Watches with emergency beacons, just in case anything does happen.

The storm is mere hours away.

Zayne removes his scarf and wraps it around you. You smile up at him reassuringly as he tucks the ends into your jacket. “Stay in contact.”

“I will. Every step, the team will know about it.”

He smiles slightly. “Good.” Not one for PDA, he nods to you, a silent wish of good luck and a quiet plea to come back to him in one piece. You return it, wishing him the same and promising to make it back even if it kills you.

And then he’s with the other doctors, preparing for the worst.

You jog over to your team. Tara beams at you, taking your wrist and setting up the beacon. Jenna debriefs you on what you need to do. Nero double checks that your comms will work.

It feels like no time has passed at all before the trouble begins.

Your snowmobile cuts over the snow piled on top of the blacktop. Tire tracks are quickly covered up or blown away. Cars sit parked on the side of the road or haphazardly abandoned right in the middle. The wind bites at your face like sharp teeth made of ice. The scarf around your mouth and nose prevents it from stealing your breath. Goggles protect your eyes, though the snow steals your visibility. Your hands have already started to go numb, but you press on.

The GPS on the snowmobile is glitching and useless with the storm blocking its signal. You have to rely on your knowledge of the area and Jenna’s voice in your ear directing you. There was a distress call sent in from a nearby park. It’s out of the set perimeter, but you’re the closest person available to help.

“The victim has a road flare available to them. Tell me when you’re in the area.”

“I’m almost at the entrance. I’ll go in on foot.”

“Careful. Don’t lose your way. Do you have anything to act as a marker?”

You pull up at the familiar iron gates of the park. You and Zayne come here for picnics when you have days off, so you know it pretty well by now. You dismount and try to find anything to use as a tether or beacon, but you just don’t have the resources. “I don’t.”

Jenna sighs. You really are her most reckless Hunter. “Call out the direction of the flare. Use it to retrace your steps back.”

“Understood.” You pull the scarf tighter around your ears as you head into the park. The snow is powdery beneath your feet, covering up your boots with every step. When you glance behind, your footprints are already gone. “Tell them to light the flare.”

Wind whips around, kicking up snow into your face and sneaking into your many layers. Once you get back, Jenna will send out another Hunter while you warm up and help at base. Just a few more minutes in the cold, and you can rest. The prospect urges you to keep pushing on, even as the damp begins collecting in your socks.

A faint pink glow pierces the haze. The light is diffused so much you almost miss it. “Spotted. North west from the entrance.”

The park feels like a deserted tundra the deeper in you go. You can’t see the iron fence that blocks it in, only the trees scattered around, barren or otherwise full of pine needles. You try to name what kind of tree they are, to help you on your way back.

On the left, a sycamore.

On the right, a pine tree.

Feet feel like miles, dragging on as the cold begins to seep in.

The glow of the flare disappears just ahead of you. Through the snow, you see the vague outline of a person. You pull down your scarf, exposing your mouth to the incoming agony of chapped lips, and cup your hands.

“HEY!” you shout. “CAN YOU HEAR ME?”

A muffled reply is swept away in the blizzard. With a bolstered resolve, you block the wind with your arm and push onwards. It isn’t much longer before the silhouette begins to clear.

Your watch beeps with a Metaflux warning. You’re frozen to the spot as you watch the horrific sight.

A Wanderer, some sort of knave, hunches over a body. A thin blanket flutters around the corpse, obscuring the figure. Red snow melts around them. The Wanderer’s arm is coated in the same red, seemingly fascinated with the spent flare as it prods it out of the victim’s hand.

“There’s a Wanderer,” you say through the comm. The creature’s head snaps up to you. You fumble for your gun, too tucked away to get to easily. It charges, blade-arms raised.

“Can you hear me?” Jenna tries again. It’s all static. Nero frantically tries reconnecting the link, but to no avail. “Have they lit their beacon yet?”

He shakes his head. “No. No, not yet.”

Tara gasps softly, hands covering her mouth as she stares at the holographic map. A red error warns of the lack of a signal, waiting for any sort of input to track. “What are we going to do?”

Jenna taps her finger on her arm.

Zayne helps someone in from outside. The snow gusts after them until the doors are pushed shut, chilling the lobby. He notices the red glow from the corner of his eye. His heart plummets to his stomach.

Trying to keep a level head, he passes the minorly injured person to a nurse, and rushes over. “What happened?” he demands.

Jenna looks at him from the corner of her eye, before fully turning to face him. “You’re close with Y/N, aren’t you?”

He nods. It only confirms his suspicions: something happened to you.

“They were answering a distress call when their line went dead. We believe they were attacked by a Wanderer, though the amount or type is unclear. They haven’t lit their beacon yet-”

“Captain!” Tara cries. “They lit it!”

She turns back to the map. The red error is gone, replaced with a blinking yellow icon. Zayne leans forward, reading the road labels.

“Do you have another snowmobile?” he asks.

“I can’t send a civilian into this storm.”

“I have extensive experience with search and rescue missions like this, Captain. And I know the area well. Along with my Evol, I should be able to retrieve them with little trouble.” He’s already buttoning his coat as he speaks, tucking his glasses away for safekeeping.

Jenna smirks. “You won’t take ‘no’ for an answer, will you?”

His ears are tinted pink as he looks away. You really are a bad influence on him.

“Here.” She grabs a bracelet-like device and wraps it around his wrist. “This way we’ll be able to track you through the storm.” Then she hands him a small earpiece. “Keep in touch. There’s another snowmobile outside.”

The storm hasn’t gotten any better by the time he reaches the park.

His cheeks are red from the cold, eyes bleary from the wind, and anxiety grips his heart like a vise. He parks his snowmobile beside yours. Snow has thoroughly covered the seat and skis.

He announces his arrival to your team. They lead him in the direction of your distress beacon.

The wind is deafening. The most recent weather reports predict that the storm will die down in a couple hours, but that’s far too long to wait for you to survive through.

Snow collects on his jacket as he blocks his face. The snow on the ground almost reaches his mid-calf, making movement difficult. But he powers through. He must. The thought of you dying out here, slow and alone, chills him to the bone even more than the blizzard, even more than his Evol. He refuses to let that happen.

A plastic wrapper, half-buried in the snow, catches his attention. He kneels down to look at it. The familiar colors and branding of the protein bar he stuffed in your pocket greets him. If this is yours, it means you’re alive enough to eat.

He shoves it into his pocket and keeps going.

“The map says they’re nearby,” your captain says through his earpiece several minutes later. He leans against a sycamore tree for cover. “Directly ahead of you.”

He shoves off and continues trudging forward. A dark shape under the snow 10 feet away catches his attention. His chest is tight as he drops down and begins uncovering it. It feels like his heart has stopped completely when he reveals the back of your coat.

He calls your name, digging his arms underneath your body to lift you and rest you against his chest. He bites the finger of his glove to pull it off. Your skin is ice cold as he feels for a pulse…

It takes nearly a minute before he feels the faint beat of your heart. He assesses you for any injuries. It doesn’t take long to find one.

Across your stomach is a long slash. Your clothes are torn, revealing ice-bitten skin and the jagged edges of your wound. When he looks, he can see a long trail in the snow, already being filled in. He can just imagine the agony you must have been in, trying to crawl through the snow back to safety. Eating your protein bar for a boost of energy, just to keep going.

He slips his glove back on and cradles you tightly to his chest as he stands and heads back the way he came.

“I found them. I’m heading back now.”

He’s back at the sycamore tree when your watch beeps. A glowing ring appears around your wrist, red with warning. He hears the Wanderer’s cry on the other side of the tree.

He quickly kneels down, supporting your body in his lap and cradling you with one arm, while the other calls ice to his hand. His face is set, eyes sharp. The second the creature rounds the trunk, he’s hurling ice at its chest.

Memories of fighting Wanderers in the mountains, of losing his friend, burn in his chest. Zayne fights with unyielding determination to get you home.

It’s warm. Almost too warm. Memories of playing outside in the snow as a child, only to come in and have burning sensations on your fingers and face, drift lazily through your mind.

There’s a weight on top of you. It’s too hot.

Lifting your arms feels like a monumental task. Trying to shove the blanket off is even harder. You’re panting before you’ve even uncovered your chest.

It’s suddenly pulled off of you, uncovering your legs from the burdensome heat. The cooler air of the room sends goosebumps all down your arms.

“Don’t move too much.”

Your head lolls to the side. Your eyelids are impossibly heavy. You’re so tired. You try to speak, but it comes out as garbled nonsense.

“Shh. You’re on a lot of pain medication right now.” Something soft touches your forehead. You stop fighting to keep your eyes open. “Get some sleep.”

You dream of building snowmen and drinking hot cocoa.

The next time you come to, your whole body aches. Your muscles scream in agony with every little twitch. The worst of it comes from your belly; a persistent sting that brings immediate tears to your eyes. You gasp and whimper as your hand tries searching for the source of your pain.

Something grabs your hand and pulls it away, holding it tenderly to the side. “Does it hurt?”

You whimper again, nodding pathetically.

“Okay. It’s okay. Give it a minute. It’ll go away soon.”

You try forcing your eyes open again. They don’t feel as heavy now. You can start to make out Zayne’s dark hair, the focus on his face as he makes adjustments to the equipment you’re hooked up to.

Slowly, the pain ebbs into a dull ache. He turns his attention back to you.

“Feel better?”

You nod again slightly. He smiles softly, but it looks like he’s struggling with it.

“Mhnn, what happened?” you slur.

He squeezes your hand gently, running his thumb over the bandages wrapped around your fingers.. The skin underneath is dry and cracked from the cold and the self-destruction of your crawling, but your blood runs warm underneath. “What do you remember?” he asks instead.

You blink, frowning with concentration. You remember the blizzard. Getting ready with Zayne in the morning. Meeting your team in the hospital. A dozen or so back-and-forth rescues. And then…

The barren trees appear in your mind through a haze. Dark red against melting snow. Fabric flapping wildly in the wind.

“The Wanderer…”

Zayne nods slowly. “Your comms went down. Your team couldn’t contact you at all.”

“Yeah, it…” You subconsciously reach for your ear, as though trying to find the earpiece. “It knocked it off when I dodged away.”

“And then you set off your beacon.”

A timid look comes over your face. He sighs, already knowing what you’re going to say. He pinches the bridge of his nose.

“I fought it off first. My gun was hard to reach, but-”

“So you waited until it was dead to alert anybody else to your struggle, even though it could have killed you before you ever got the chance.” It wasn’t a question. You can’t meet his eyes. Even after promising him to be careful, to stay in contact with your team at all times, you still put your life in unnecessary danger.

“‘M sorry…”

He sighs.

You look at him again, studying his attire. It’s buttoned all the way to his neck. His tie is crooked. “What happened after that?”

“Your captain gave me what I needed to rescue you myself,” he starts. You cut him off with wide eyes.

“She let you go on your own?”

He grins wryly, but the pinch in his brow shows just how strained it is. “You’re a terrible influence on me, you know that?”

You grin, too. You nod for him to continue.

A darkness covers his eyes. Bright hazel dimmed by the emotions that were still warring within him, battling with the relief that you’re still alive. “I found you buried in the snow,” he murmurs. “You were barely alive. The Wanderer didn’t hit anything vital, but you’d still lost a lot of blood. Paired with the frostbite… It’s a miracle you still have your extremities.

“I rushed you back to the hospital. We immediately began treating you with a heated IV. Once you were stable, we started you on a blood transfusion and treated your wound.” He nods to your stomach where your pain still lingers.

You look down at yourself. The blanket is still pulled off of you, folded off to the side. The snap-front gown they put you in allows for easy access to your stomach. You can see the bandages through a couple of the snaps.

Your eyes slowly trail to your connected hands. Your fingers are individually wrapped. His warmth seeps in through the bandages. But there’s something else…

You carefully pry your hand from his so yours is on top. He lets you, watching your movements for any discomfort. Your fingers glide over the faded scars of his hand, up to his sleeve. He pulls away when you push back the cuff, but you’ve already seen the glimpse of a bandage wrapped around his arm.

“You’re hurt, too.”

“It’s superficial.”

“Since when has that mattered to you?” you tease.

He glares at you, but there’s hardly any venom behind it. He looks away, readjusting his sleeve all the while. “More Wanderers appeared after I found you. A couple scratches here and there, but nothing serious,” he dismisses.

You seek out his hand again. There’s a quirk to your lip, one that belies the mischief in your actions, yet he gives himself to you anyway. You trace up the same pattern as before and struggle to undo the button of his sleeve. He undoes it for you. You’re unrelenting at the best of times; it’s easier not to fight it. He even lifts it up slightly, fully revealing the wrap around his wrist and forearm. The soft gauze padding can be seen through the thin material, outlining where the injury really is.

“Some couple we are,” you murmur. “We get hurt and we deny it with our every breath.”

He huffs a laugh. “Two self-sacrificing fools.”

You hum with a nod, continuing to trace over his injury. The mirth begins to drain from your face. “I’m sorry… For not calling for help sooner. For letting you get dragged into the mess I created.”

“I think you’re giving yourself too much credit, my love,” he whispers reassuringly as he slides his fingers up your wrist until he’s holding your hand again. He brings your bandaged knuckles to his lips. You watch the way his lips curve against your minor wounds. “I will always come to your aid, by my own choice, whether you created the ‘mess’ or not.”

“I love you,” you whisper in return.

He kisses your knuckles again. “The feeling is mutual.”

You pinch his chin playfully. He chuckles. “Get some rest. I’ll get something for you to eat.”

He lowers your hand back to the bed and stands up. His fingers work nimbly to button his sleeve and fix it once more. You catch his hand before he can turn to leave. He looks down at you attentively. You could ask him for the stars and he’d pluck every single one from the sky to give to you. You smile sweetly up at him, that familiar glint in your eye giving your tricks away.

“Does the hospital serve hot chocolate?”

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover

#fanfic #fanfiction #zayne #zayne x reader #love and deepspace zayne #lads zayne #lnds zayne #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #lads #lads x reader #lnds #lnds x reader #gn reader #x gn reader #gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #hurt/comfort

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xo2dee · 8 days ago

Text

NOW LOADING. .

DMC MASTERLIST

AMBROSIAL

PAIRING: Vergil x (Fem)Reader WARNINGS: Slight sexual tension sooo MDNI/18+ only. WORD COUNT: 4676 SUMMARY: He didn't even like strawberries. He just liked to piss you off.

A/N: first ever fic i ever posted on ao3 which is nuts. vergil brainrot never dies.

If you were to look back on yourself years ago, the thought of your current position in life sounded preposterous. A fairy-tale, fantasy even. Who in their right mind would take up demon-slaying as their primary job?

You, apparently.

Four years beforehand was the beginning: you had set out, armed with a baseball bat as ghoulish creatures had raided your hometown. You were a newbie, so incredibly under-prepared, and came out of that fight wounded and traumatized, but ultimately victorious. It was a start, no one was ever perfect as a beginner, you made mistakes, but weeks later you made your mind up and decided you wanted to kill these monsters for they did to your home and all those people. After all, it was the least you could in honor of their memory and for your guilt in surviving.

You could remember the ache in your back from being hunched over your computer looking up workout routines, the pain of ice-filled baths to relieve your soreness from pulling muscles after strenuous workouts and fights, and the scars on your body throbbing from one too many near-fatal fights with demons. You were human, painfully human, you had realized that particular notion after nearly breaking your hand socking a demon in the jaw. It was then that you realized you couldn't fight hand-to-hand combat with some demons (why did you even try anyway?) and you needed a weapon, one that was not a baseball or an axe that was on its last life. You needed a gun.

There you met her. Nico.

Two and a half years into your self-employment, Nico came speeding into your life. Literally, she almost ran you over.

You had to explain yourself that no, you were not a demon, you were just a carrying carcass because it was a good alternate to weight-lifting because you didn't have any weights. She had looked at you like you were stupid, eyes squinting and cigarette ash falling from the smoke in-between her lips and onto the road before asking, "You a demon hunter?"

Well, you didn't necessary call yourself that, but, whatever, you told her yes.

Nico grinned after that and introduced herself, telling you that you were lucky for her bumping into you. You wouldn't necessarily call that 'bumping into you' and how you were lucky from almost being flattened like a cartoon character on the side of the road? You had not one clue, but you took her word for it in the end.

Through her you met Nero, a young man – you had believed he was an old man at first because of his hair, to which he got fussy about while Nico was hysterical in the background – and learned that he too was a demon hunter, a rather good one at that; miles better than you. Of course, the glowing claw-tipped arm told you there was more to him than you knew, but you didn't push it, not when he convinced Nico to make you a weapon so you didn't look like a Neanderthal running around with a wooden baseball beating demons with it.

"It'll cost ya, I don't just do handouts," she had told you, blowing cigarette smoke into your face. A test you presumed.

Nero looked ready to interject at that, but you spoke up before another loud argument broke out while fanning away the smoke.

"I'll pay you anything you want."

Nero looked at you like you had just sold your soul – you probably did – while Nico smiled and stubbed her cigarette out with the tip of her boot. "I always knew I liked you."

She had made you a bayonet, a gorgeous onyx one held that objective affection towards. You had thanked her, giving a hefty amount of cash and practically skipped off ready to use your new baby. However, you were not a good shot since you almost shot Nero in the head – more times than you would like to admit.

That's when you met him. Dante, the Legendary Demon Hunter – though he didn't like to go by that, Nico called him that albeit never even meeting the man. And your teacher you guessed, not like he did any teaching standing off to the side occasionally throwing jokes at you and trying to hold his laughter back when you missed a target by a couple of feet. But still, he meant well.

Nero had practically held you by your scruff in front of Dante like some lost puppy and told him everything he knew about you, up to how shitty of a shooter you were, but were able to wrestle demons down in a fight. The aged man scratched the scruff adorning his chin and looked you up and down before sighing.

"Okay, but I can't pay ya."

What was with these people and money? Dante didn't pay you, and Nico would sometimes charge out the ass. Of course, you later learned Dante didn't pay you not because he was Eugene Krabs incarnate, but because he literally had no money and was in debt. You wondered if he even paid taxes.

(Though coming to find out Dante's true agenda behind being in debt – aside from the mountainous supply of pizza and booze he spent it on – you didn't bring it up, opting to keep your thoughts and mouth to yourself and just taking your duct of the pay from Morrison, Lady or Trish when you had the chance.)

Your 'demon hunter' status was well-off after that, you had teammates – meeting your favorites: Lady and Trish – your skills only increased, and you were basically employed at Devil May Cry. Life was fine until a giant fucking tree sprouted out of the ground in Red Grave City, and it was your hometown incident all over again. Dante, Lady, and Trish had went missing in May of that year leaving you with Nico and Nero, as well as the odd new member V, and his talking pet demon Griffon. You did not converse with him that well, he was quiet and you appreciated that since you often had to hear Nero and Nico's arguments, or worse, Dante's and Lady's. Still, you remained polite to him as long as he was to you, perhaps that's why you felt a little melancholic when he never returned after leaving with Dante and Nero that one time only a month after knowing him. Maybe you were sad at the thought that he died, given Nero and Nico had made a companion out of him and you were feeling sympathetic for them.

Then again, maybe you were sad for Nero since his father was apparently V, but was not V, ripped his arm off, was the reason behind the Qliphoth, fought his own father, then watched as his father and his uncle jumped into Hell to stop the roots from the tree from spreading any further out of the city. You had blinked when he relayed it all to Nico and you, astonished he seemed happier. You supposed it was understandable, he had found out that he did have family left (sometimes you had wondered if Dante was his father given the striking similarities and the relationship between them) and his arm... grew back. You didn't question it when you watched him later on pull out an old book with a V engraved on the front and flip through the pages with a ghost of small smile on his lips. If Nero was content, then all your complaints dissolved.

You weren't exactly so content cleaning up someone else's mess, but you reminded yourself that you wished someone had done it for you back then. As well having Morrison technically being your boss for the time being, you had to listen to him and take jobs from him.

It was months later when Dante came back, appearing in the middle of Devil May Cry through a random portal. You expected nothing less from someone like him, yet you still remained apprehensive scowling at the azure rift breaking reality. Out of it sooner than you expected came Dante, swaggering while looking like he never wanted to do it again and –

Who was that?

"Babe! Didn't expect to see you here, you been keeping the place clean for me?" Dante started out, walking towards you with his arms spread. It almost looked like he was going in for a hug, yet you knew Dante wasn't exactly the type for physical contact and your expression probably wasn't the most welcoming then. You didn't know if it was from your frazzled mask or him just being him, but he stopped mere feet away from you, holding up his hands in mock surrender as you regarded, "Relax, it's just me and Verg."

'Verg'. Vergil. It was him, Nero's father and Dante's elder twin. It was the first time you had laid eyes on him, though you listened to him and untensed. You took that time to not so discreetly take in the new face in front of you.

And boy, was he a sight.

The genes that ran in the family of Sparda must've been something other-worldly (literally). You can see the similarities in the twins: their hair the same shade, yet they both opted for a different approach on how they styled it with nearly the same type of face structure and same color in their eyes – however a different type of glint and feeling in them. They were of the same height, yet it looked like the eldest was a tad taller and you weren't too sure if it was due to his hair perhaps the boots he was wearing. Their choice of wear completely differed too, much in the sense of the colors they wore and the amount of skin they were willing to show; whereas Dante donned a regular Henley shirt with the beginnings of his chest exposed, his brother dressed himself completely covered in an odd vest, you didn't know where he had gotten, with the zipper all the way up to his chin with the only skin showing being his face and parts of his hands and fingers. Other than that, they seemed to like the leather pants combo too and it was easy to tell they were brothers.

You didn't miss Dante's red coat, and Vergil's blue one.

Truly the same blood, but completely different people.

You were still staring at him, perhaps like a little too long than you would've liked to have admitted, but you were having trouble wrapping your brain around the fact you were in the presence of the man that ripped your friend's arm who was also his dad, who also caused Qliphoth rising and then jumped into Hell and was back with his brother, who seemed to have settled that... 'difference' he had with him enough to bring him back to Devil May Cry...

You stared, mastering a poker face through years of being alone.

He stood rigidly in the middle of the room as if he was a statue, a white-knuckled grip on his sword with stiff shoulders as he eyed the room warily before landing on you. He looked down at you with a furrowed brow and a scowl like you were bug he was ready to step on. His presence was so... icy compared to Dante feeling so warm. They truly were polar opposites; the Red Oni and the Blue Oni. As you stared the more handsome he got and you could see how he was able to father a child – a child who looked so much like him, it was uncanny. Then he opened his mouth.

"What are you looking at?”

Why were you not surprised?

You did not like him. His voice fit him perfectly; so cold, and just so Vergil. It was slightly nasally and not like the husky tones of Dante's, but you knew his voice could instill fear into grown men and anyone else. However, you were not swayed, instead overcome with the backhand of his attitude.

Dante put up a hand before you could open your mouth and fire off a retort. Vergil wasn't even asking, it felt more like a demand to know why you were blatantly ogling him. You didn't answer, only throwing back an attitude with a tsk! and whipping your head around from his smartass. He didn't retaliate, stepping away from the scene and dismissing you like you were still nothing more than little bug underneath his boot. You had watched him walk away, glaring at the back of his head through the sides of your eyes. Dante, meanwhile, only laughed patting your shoulder looking a little too happy.

"I think you'll get along just great."

You did not get along 'just great'.

After that, it was a series of events...

Once you decided to be courteous for Dante and take his laundry with yours, to which Vergil all but dumped his dirty ass clothes on you as well. Literally, he just dropped them in your arms and you had struggled to catch them (why did you anyway?).

You had glared, fingers gripping the insanely nice fabric of his coat as he stood but two feet away from you, "Why should I?"

Vergil had the nerve to look down at you again, features as stunning as ever in the low light of the shop and his expression betraying nothing but that stoic exterior he was known for, yet you saw a minimal raise to one of his eyebrows, "Are you not offering?"

"I'm offering Dante."

"Then your common courtesy is a lie?"

He really had a retort for everything, didn't he? You scowled at him and pinched his coat between your fingers, "That's rich coming from you... but sure," you stuffed it down into the basket, balling it up extra measure to piss him off, "Anything for you, your Highnass."

You didn't give him time to reply, walking out with as much dignity as you could knowing you had given in and were going to do his laundry. Though he didn't know you kept his coat longer in the dryer to absorb as much static as it could, and you balled it up again to get as many wrinkles as you could in it.

(You were sure he knew though, if that Stanley Kubrick stare you got returning it was anything to abide by.)

As you left, you could hear Dante sigh.

"Have you ever heard of please? And have you ever actually talked to a woman before?"

There was another time you were just standing next to him, then suddenly your cheek was squished up against his bicep and body nearly compressed under his weight as he slammed you both into a nearby wall. You didn't think that perhaps he was shielding you from the rampant rage of a demon, more annoyed with the fact your bruised nose was getting the horribly intoxicating scent of his cologne, or whatever it was, and you could feel the disturbing way his lean body molded into your own.

"...Vergil."

All you got was a slight tilt of his head.

"Get your big ass off of me."

That got you the frosty glare you had been waiting for, the silvery tint in his eyes not something you were unfamiliar with or afraid to look into it. Vergil regarded you for but a few short moments, eyes darting around every inch of your face before quietly speaking, "I expected a thanks, not an insult for saving your frail self."

'Frail'? Whatever, you weren't about to argue with him thinking you were a dainty daffodil. He had eventually lifted off of you after you vouched out you had to pee because he was pressing on your bladder, the man looking – dare you say it – embarrassed over it as well.

Afterwards, it was another of Dante’s input.

“I need you to tell me how you had Nero, because this is just sad.”

It was a constant back and forth, though the times you randomly turned around and Vergil was just glaring at you nearly looking like he wanted to combust were the oddest of his vampire-like behavior. You figured perhaps he was plotting your demise, though it started getting weird whenever you turned around and he was inches from your face.

You didn’t like to think too hard about those.

Whether it was awkward van rides with you staring at him seeing if you could piss him off, him taking away a demon kill from you at the last second, you 'forgetting' to wash his laundry, him spreading out on the couch in the world's biggest man-spread so you had no place to sit, it was a constant back and forth. Or perhaps it was present time with the matter at hands.

Kyrie had brought her famous strawberry pie because she knew it was your favorite, and you had stashed the piece in the fridge for later time only for the next current day it to be gone. You confronted Dante about the matter ready to scold him when he you he hadn’t been around to even know you had any (and pouted you didn’t share), and then suggested Vergil did it. You didn't believe it, sure you two had... whatever going on, but you knew that as half-demons the twins did not have to eat human food; Dante only did so to keep in touch with his human side and probably because he missed his mother's cooking at times. Vergil, however, you never saw eat once, practically wrinkling and up-turning his nose whenever Dante brought back pizza or strawberry sundaes, so you assumed it had been Dante who ate your beloved pie and didn't want to admit to not hear your nagging.

Though Dante had listened to your reasoning and told you something that surprised you given Vergil's... tastes.

"True, he doesn't like strawberry-flavored things. I think he likes chocolate."

Of course he liked chocolate, perhaps bitter and dark like him.

Vergil would not eat your pie.

Or so you thought until he and you were sitting across from each other at Devil May Cry at that moment. When you caught his eye, you watched morbidly curious as he bore his silvery eyes into yours and ran his thumb across his plump bottom lip until you could see the crumb of red he purposefully left for you to see. He ate it. He ate your fucking pie out of sheer pettiness.

He didn't even like strawberries. He just liked to piss you off.

(Didn't your mother tell you that boys picking on you meant they liked you?

Still... you didn't think that applied to forty-year old half-demons with stick up their asses.)

You could not stand him, you hated him and his handsome face and his stupid lips. You don't know how many times you envisioned stepping on his stupid coat and watching him trip and fall flat on his face, or just tackling him into the ground in a fury, or just fighting him, or just kissing him –

You swallowed at that last thought, raising your gaze from his titled lips to lidded eyes. Teasing.

You never had a problem with looking him dead in the eye before, yet there was something brewing in-between that nearly had you sweating as you looked at him then. Since when where you shy?

Looking at Vergil then though... you weren't sure if you wanted to body slam him... or kiss him. Or both in that order.

So you did. You don't know what possessed you, whether it was his expression taunting you or the overwhelming urge to get rid of whatever the feeling was inside you, you shot up determined, marched over and tackled him into the couch. It was not necessarily a body slam like you wanted, but the giddy feeling you got watching his eyes widening a fraction and that barely concealed grunt he let out when you straddled him and pushed him down into the cushions was worth it. You felt yourself grow embarrassed at that point and uneasy as well. Vergil not throwing you across the room was one thing, but being able to straddle him and have him on his back was another thing altogether. Still, planting a kiss on those lips...

"Why are you making that face?" he asked once you finally looked him in the eye. He look unamused at a first glance, but close enough something was dancing in his pupils.

You knew you were embarrassed from the heat you felt on your cheeks. What face were you making? Did you look constipated? Whatever, you pushed it away and tightened your thighs against his waist and gripped his shoulders harder, reveling in watching his eyes flick downwards for a mere moment. You inhaled, hoping your voice didn't come out as unsteady as your body and mind felt.

"You ate my pie."

"All this over a slice of a dessert."

"You did it on purpose because you knew it was mine."

"I didn't see your name on it."

"You don't even like strawberries."

"And how would you know that?"

"Because."

"As I said, perhaps you should leave your name on things if they are yours."

"That's rich coming from the one who has their initial on their own little diary."

Vergil's eyes narrowed, "That 'diary' is a book of poetry, not that your narrow-minded self would know anything about." That hit a nerve.

"I want my pie, you ass."

"How am I supposed to give you 'your pie' if I have already ate it?"

Why did he look so smug? You trailed your eyes from his long lashes, to the slope of his nose, to his prominent cupid's bow before finally landing on his lips. You remembered the crumb he swiped away realizing he had only ate the pie just prior beforehand, he purposefully took it out of the fridge and let it sit until he knew you would be back and he ate it just before you returned, He ate it just to see you squirm. The sneaky, plotting, petty, handsome bastard...

You attention was roused back to him when he spoke again, saying your name, "I asked you a question: How are you supposed to get your pie if I have already ate it?" Vergil had caught you staring at his lips you realized. He was staring at yours now and unabashedly rolling his eyes down your body. It was an inquiry, wondering if you were going to do it. If you had the gall to. He knew what thoughts were brewing in your mind just by the look in your eyes and the flux in your body temperature. You made up your mind then, scooting up to sit on his abdomen and slapping your hands on either side of his face. You wanted your pie, so you were going to get a taste of it at least.

"Fine."

Your spine bending awkwardly at that angle reminded you once again the times you spent hunched over your computer, but the dull ache didn't compare to what Vergil's lips felt like. They were partly chapped, but you didn't mind, not when he was already opening his mouth for an invitation for you to get a taste. So you did just that, pushing your tongue through to explore his mouth for the fruitiness of your lost pie. He did taste like Kyrie's famous strawberry pie, but somehow it tasted better once it was on his tongue. He made a noise underneath you and maneuvered his hands to touch you, one gripping your hip fingers digging into your shirt and the other curled around the back of your neck to pull you further into him. You felt dreamy melting into him and moving your lips along his, you only failed to realize how incredibly sloppy your kissing was when Vergil pulled your neck back to speak against your lips.

"You are atrocious at that." Well, you can tell now given the saliva glistening on his lips. "Are you trying to devour me?"

You hummed, pushing your body down to lay atop his, "I don't think you can talk big when you don't know how to kiss either."

"Mmmm," you've never heard that noise before and it sent a flutter straight to your lower abdomen. Vergil moved the hand resting at the back of your neck, brushing fingers across your cheek to grip your face tilting forward until your lips touched again.

Compared to you basically drooling into his mouth in a needy make-out session, the kiss he left on you was chaste and so longing. It felt sweet. You wanted more as molded his lips onto your top lip, leaving you at the expense of his buxom bottom lip. You had wanted this so bad and all you could do was grip the lapels of his coat and drown yourself into Vergil's kiss. It was over far too soon than you wanted, which was why you chased after him when he parted away from you looking all too pleased with himself again. "I don't know how to kiss, yet here you are chasing after me again whining for another."

You groaned and hid your face in his chest again knowing that he had won. Again.

Vergil: 6

You: 2

Not that you ever won against his wittiness in the first place. Yet this time you felt you had won something big.

Vergil did have a son, so maybe you were wrong about his skills in kissing.

The moment was interrupted when the doors to the shop busted open and the owner waltzed in acting like he wasn't outside the door listening.

"OH – whoops, didn't realize you two were busy canoodling," Dante's tone sounded all too amused as he covered his eyes with hand, yet created a space in his fingers so he could peak at you both, "I'll just be on my way. Give you some privacy. Be safe though we don't need a repeat "

"Dante."

You had shot up back into a sitting position on Vergil when Dante burst into the shop, hoping to show the red-wearing twin that no, you two were not doing what he thought and almost countered saying you were both just wrestling, but that sounded even worse somehow. Vergil had hissed out his name sending a scathing side-eye towards his brother and you prayed they didn't breakout into another 'argument'. 'Arguments' being full-blown fights, whether it be with swords or just throwing hands at each other over the stupidest reasons. You had walked into their fights on more than one occasion, always giving a dry look towards them when Dante would usually explain that Vergil got mad he called his hair ugly or something. You almost rolled your eyes again, Grown ass men.

Dante held up his hands, one hand holding a pizza box, "Okay, sheesh, don't get your panties in a bunch, Verg. You should be worrying about hers."

"Leave us!"

The remaining effort it took for him to leave was the blue spectral sword that he ducked for before laughing and disappearing upstairs. You watched the summoning sword pierce the wall before dragging your eyes back to Vergil, who was already looking at you. "You're both annoying."

He glowered again, "You are infuriating and a maddening being. A witch."

"That's a new one. Are you saying I bewitched the mighty Vergil."

"Hardly."

"Okay, Verg."

His eye twitched at the crude nickname before pulling you back down onto him by your elbows, you had a clear message of what he wanted by the way his eyes were half-lidded and hands ghosting over your back.

You gave him a cheeky grin basking in the satisfaction of his brow twitching in annoyance at it, "You trying swap spit again?"

"You are disgusting."

You hardly took the insult to heart when his lips slowly pressed against yours again and you sighed dreamily into his mouth.

You suppose you could forgive him for the pie if you got that in return.

#{🩸} nee fics #vergil x reader #vergil devil may cry #vergil dmc #vergil x you #vergil x y/n #dmc #devil may cry #vergil #dmc x reader

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minisugakoobies · 1 year ago

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It's You | Choi San

Pairing: San x Reader Genre: smut, crack, fluff, angst, roommates to lovers, BFF's Lil Bro!AU Rating: M (18+) Warnings: each installment will have its own warnings, read carefully! Word Count: TBD Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own ATZ - they just inspire me

Summary: He was only supposed to be a temporary roommate. Your best friend's little brother, crashing on your couch for a few weeks. That's it. How did this happen?

A/N: Hello and welcome to my new obsession/experiment. This is going to be a drabble/short chapter series all about falling in love with your best friend's little brother, San. I'm not telling this in sequence - instead I'm writing and posting the story as vignettes come to me - and there's no posting schedule.

This all started from an ask sent to me by @minttangerines because she's a goddamn brilliant idea factory and I'm the greedy manager demanding she work overtime (I think that metaphor got away from me). Thanks also to @moni-logues @kiestrokes @augustbutwinter @yeontan-my-love @quarter-life-crisis2 for additional ideas and support! 💜

Taglist is open! Reblog, comment, or send me an ask to be added! You can also feel free to send me any ideas/thoughts you might have for a future scenario - who knows, it might end up in a chapter! 💕

ATZ Masterlist 🐈‍⬛ Main Masterlist

The story so far… (updated 12/25/24)

Who is bff's lil bro San? (>1K, fluff, feat. Hongjoong & Wooyoung)

The party (>1K, suggestive, feat. Hongjoong x Reader x Wooyoung)

Noona, do you have any lotion I can borrow? (>1K, Halloween, fluff)

San and Nero cheering you up (>1K, fluff, pining, ft. your cat Nero)

The first kiss (1.8K, angst, fluff)

The first time you're alone in the apartment (>1K, smut)

Menace (1.7K, smut, fluff)

3 AM (2.1K, fluff, angst)

All Yours (>1K, fluff, holiday drabble)

Taglist: @sweetnspicy-noona @krystal-a @jennylychee

#ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez fanfic #ateez fluff #ateez angst #san x reader #ateez fic #choi san smut #choi san x reader #fic: it's you #bff's lil bro au

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polarisbibliotheque · 9 months ago

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Devil May Halloween - The Samhain Ritual - Vergil's Path

Devil May Halloween 2023 - The Samhain Ritual, Vergil's Path

Pairing: Vergil x Reader

Summary: It’s finally Halloween and, even if the demons are a lot more active this time of the year, that doesn’t stop you from going on hunts - the partying can be done later. Or… At least that was what you thought. Maybe Nero had pretty good reasons to worry about that job after all.

Author's Notes: Fucking finally part 2 hahahaha I deeply apologize for taking so long to post Vergil's part. As some of you might have seen here, my dad suffered an accident and my life turned upside down the last few months - I'm still managing, doing damage control hahaha but slowly getting back on track with my writing.

But here is Vergil's part! Be sure to read the Prologue first to understand this madness and, if you're a Dante appreciator, fret not, the red devil part is here.

I have to thank my dear friend @furyeclipse for sending me this idea as an ask a thousand years ago - and now, it is finally done! You can check Fury's work on ao3 right here, I highly recommend it!

I'm also going through a phase of powerful monsters (vampires, demons, the whole unholy pantheon) being on their knees for their human partner and, oh boy, it shows. I'm not apologizing. Oh. And the Helen of Troy/Sparta is NOT a gendered thing. It's more of being recognized as the most beautiful among mortals, enough to cause a war for their love. And yes there's a Ghost reference in there, I FINALLY got to properly listen to their music and man, why did I sleep on them for so long??

Devil May Halloween 2023 - Vergil's Path

Demonic marriages. There was a topic you had to admit you were completely ignorant about.

Vergil had mentioned it once. You did ask him when Sparda’s and Eva’s union arose as a subject in one of your researches one day – for, as far as you knew, marriages were religious and it did make you wander if demons had their own religion or only rituals.

That subject was very muddy, as per Vergil’s words. His own knowledge on the matter was very limited – and that was something new for you.

“Hmmm. A very good question indeed.” Vergil murmured as he put down his book on the table, raising his silvery eyes to you. The library was dead quiet, but his voice was always so low it wasn’t a concern – even if you both were the only living beings in that place at that hour. “You could say some demons are powerful enough to be viewed as gods, but those would be only the likes of Mundus.”

“And Sparda…?” Oh, you had to ask. After all, wasn’t Sparda the only demon strong enough to defeat Mundus? Who could ever defeat a being as powerful as a god? Only a god as well, at least in your mortal eyes.

Vergil allowed a proud smile to spread over his lips as nodded in agreement.

“Well, we do have Fortuna as an example of people worshipping demons as gods, so humans praying to demons doesn’t really surprise me. There are plenty of cults and even churches who do that.” You shrugged, organizing your books and papers, passing him a list of demonic cults you had been keeping track over the years. You weren’t one to judge, but, seeing your occupation was to slaughter demons, it was always good to keep an eye on them. “Eva and Sparda getting married made me wonder. Marriages are very religious, how did Sparda deal with that? Given his story, I don’t think it was only a civil ceremony for government benefits, right?”

“Right indeed…” Vergil once again murmured, curiously reading your list. It was a very thorough and good document, and he couldn’t stop himself to think how it was smart of you to do that. He had a list of people to keep an eye on as well now. “I’ve never really wondered about that as a child, for I didn’t know much of the world back then. We tend to accept that what we see and what it’s said to be true… But after I started researching and learning, it did spark my interest. As far as I can tell you, my father accepted my mother’s faith and married her by her rules, not the opposite. He would never do that just out of a civil agreement, he really did it for love.”

“So even with the power of gods, demons don’t have religions.”

“Again, that is a very good question. I never could really answer it with certainty.” Vergil sighed, leaving your list on the table between you and raising his silvery eyes to yours once more. “As impressive as it sounds, demons don’t lack faith. Some of them do worship more powerful demons as deities, and some of them do join each other in cults. As far as I could observe in Hell, they are very similar to humans on that matter: each has their own set of rules and beliefs and most of them kill each other for their ‘gods’.”

“Huh. Humanity once again proving they can be quite demonic.” You scoffed while rolling your eyes. Religious wars were as old as History itself and it was quite ironic for you to hear that was something present in demonic History as well.

“Or demons proving once again they have something of human after all.” Vergil shrugged after observing you a few long seconds, before turning his eyes to another one of his books again. “I’d argue not all humans, though. Differently from demons, most of them save themselves from being devilish and evil.”

“Hmmm. A few demons can also save themselves from that fate.” You had a slight smile on your lips, turning to your tea mug nearby. “And those who do can be even kinder than humans.”

That conversation would find its end right there that night, as both of you went back to your books and research – but you were able to see a slight smile on Vergil’s lips and how his eyes seemed to have softened after that.

Even if your Dark Slayer could soften under your words, you doubted other demons would do that – and even went as far as doubting they would have something close to a human heart. Vergil was different from all the demons in that place; and so, marriage was the last word you ever expected to hear.

But there you were, locked in a derelict room with Kyrie, surrounded by the long gone gothic architecture of a cathedral that once stood proud among those lands – now rotten, decayed, desecrated and with its colorful glass mosaics shattered everywhere, it was taken by demons to perform their unholy ritual.

“We’re really in it now, aren’t we Kyrie…?” You sighed back to the only human soul with you in that place – the only hope in that godforsaken night, lit only by the flickering warm light of candles. “Marriage. I did not expect it would be this way, though, I’ll tell you that much.”

“I didn’t expect it either…” Kyrie sighed in complete desolation, staring at a loose stone on the floor. “Nero is going to be so mad.”

“I can only imagine.” You answered with a giggle, taking a seat at rotten wood bench that once served as a place for priests to read while doing their own religious researches. “I don’t think Vergil is going to be very pleased as well.”

“Oh.” And it finally seemed to down on Kyrie who your lover was and how much trouble those demons were in. “Did he… Ever tell you about something like this…?”

“Well, marriage is not really a topic that usually arises with Vergil…” You had your eyes lost on an old bookcase, imagining if any of those would be worth a read. Not that you had too much time for that at the moment, but you were quite disturbed. If it was only you in that situation, you would be more at ease, but Kyrie’s presence changed everything. “But he did tell me about a similar ritual between humans and demons. The human usually isn’t a consenting participant though.”

Raising your eyes to hers, Kyrie felt a shiver down her spine. She knew exactly what you meant and that whole situation was also quite frightening for her – in a matter of fact, she probably wasn’t that scared because you were there; but even that didn’t help much. Not when both of you had no idea what was going on.

“I hate the fact they took my weapons. I’m thinking of a thousand ways to get out of here, but I can’t do it without at least my sword.” You rested your head on one of your hands, looking completely defeated. Kyrie had pity in her eyes, sitting by your side right after.

“Well… This isn’t exactly the sort of wedding dress I would choose either.” She sighed in desolation making you snort a quick laugh. “I’m not comfortable in this. I can only imagine how naked you feel.”

“Don’t tell me about it…” You rolled your eyes, pointing at your own attire. You and Kyrie looked positively ridiculous: it was as if the demon in charge of your clothes had only seen a bunch of 80’s movies depicting marriages and thought they had to be even more over the top than that. You could barely move in your own clothes and hated every single second of being in that thing. “If I at least had my gun, I’d shoot the bastard who thought this was acceptable.”

Kyrie had to giggle. It was always endearing to see how some of Vergil’s mannerisms spilled into yours over the time and vice versa. Your voice was as sharp as a piece of ice and your eyes had the same predatorial gaze – even if your words sounded funny in context.

“Couldn’t you use your summoned swords? Like Vergil?”

“I could but I shouldn’t.” Your answer was a little slow, because you were considering it. Using summoned swords was always an advantage, but it did come with its limitations. “Vergil is teaching me how to use all his arcane knowledge, little by little… But I’m human.” As you looked at Kyrie, she seemed to immediately understand what you meant: after all, she was the human companion of a half-demon as well. “It takes a lot of energy. Vergil can tap into his demonic energy that, honestly, it can power a whole city when he’s in the right mood. When it comes to me, though, I can only go so far. It takes a lot more concentration and I can do it only for a while – I’m a novice at it even, so I can’t hold it for too long. I need to train a lot more to be able to take an entire mission, for example.”

“Hmmm. It’s just like when Nero trains me with Credo’s sword…” Kyrie mumbled, resting her head on both of her hands, while her elbows leaned on her knees. You had to giggle: she looked like a bummed out child. “It’s so heavy, I can only do a couple of moves and I get tired quickly.”

“Is that why you’ve been training strength at the gym recently…?” You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling. There was something of sweet about that.

Your little angel was soon going to become a buffed little angel waving a big ass sword around. You loved that concept. Nero’s jaw would hit the floor.

“Exactly.” But Kyrie had the most angelic of smiles on her lips. You knew how it was important to her to be able to use Credo’s sword, even if it was just to protect herself and the children of the orphanage – she was never going to become a devil hunter like you. But she was going to be a guardian angel… Like Credo would’ve been if Sanctus hadn’t taken him away in that demonic cult in Fortuna.

Before you could say anything else, though, you felt a shift in the air. Furrowing your brows, you immediately got up from your seat and put yourself in front of Kyrie: whatever it was, it would have to go through you first. She didn’t say a word, seeming to hide behind you and that horrid thing you were wearing – which didn’t really work, seeing how evident her own dress was.

With a few sparks, one of the demon lords spawned right in front of you: Erlach.

“Everything seems to be ready for the ceremony, then. Good.” His smile spread across his leathery skin as a row of a thousand sharp knives. Erlach carried horns and claws, eyes with desolation and the fiery pits of his home, and a set of large wings fit for an overgrown bat – but something about his features were astoundingly human. Demon lords could tower over humans, sometimes even taller than doors, and carry all the might and horror of Hell, but their kind were built in resemblance with their mortal peers – which wasn’t very common when it came to demons.

“When you force your guests to take part in it, things do get ready at your will, demon.” You had that typical coldness in your eyes – the type that would make the will of a lesser demon waiver. It wasn’t the case with Erlach, though: a spark seemed to have crossed his eyes, as he stared at you for a few seconds with interest.

“Apologize being so rude, but I do think you wouldn’t have come this far out of free will, human.” He spat back, allowing a smile to take over his features once more. It wasn’t the most inviting thing you had ever seen, you had to be honest.

“With this sort of attire, I certainly wouldn’t have.”

To your surprise, Erlach laughed in response. You quickly shared a glare with Kyrie, both of you uneasy with such… Tolerance from him.

“I might have to agree with you. Now, come. I wish to speak to you in private – we have enough to discuss.”

Before you could even respond, you blinked and suddenly, you were in an old study. Probably a part of the cathedral that only priests had access, with private rooms where they could make their own little libraries and studies – the desk had books and documents all over it, the fire was lit and a thousand candles burned in orange to give light to one of the deepest nights of the year.

You tried not to sigh: demonic teleportation was always a nuisance to you. Your human body still had to get used to that and you always got a little angry at Vergil when he void teleported you with Yamato: he was wise to always ask your permission first and, if it happened during an emergency and it was the only thing available for him to protect you, he knew he was in for some serious complaining from your part later.

Honestly, Vergil would rather have you safe, complaining at him and as mad as a human could be than have you harmed in a place he couldn’t protect you. He was actually getting well versed in dealing with your void teleportation complaints.

“Your kind isn’t very prone to conversations.” You had to point out, taking a deep breath. Your dizziness would be gone in a few seconds and you didn’t want Erlach to know how much it affected you. “Mindless dismemberments and self-boasting talk seem to be the preferred route for demons.”

“Lesser demons. Demon lords do have a different approach to things… And deals.” Erlach walked around his table, skimming over some documents before turning his fiery eyes to you and smiling once more. “The brainless dismembering style is still preferred by some, though. Like Orcus.”

“The second demon lord here tonight.” As you noted, Erlach seemed to have enjoyed your answer. It meant you were paying attention, not only trying to escape. “Demons are quite selfish as well, I wouldn’t expect to see your kind engaging in alliances. Or is that something peculiar to demon lords as well…?”

Yes, you were trying to provoke him – it was in your fighting style, in your blood. When fighting against demons, they all boasted how terrible they were, how they would smash you into a paste on the pavement and feast on your bones. You had to know how to answer at the same level or the fear would get to you. After all, you were fighting against supernatural things on a daily basis, obviously faster and stronger than you. If you didn’t taunt them to inspire a little bit of fear and belittle them before your humanity, you would cower in a corner and wait for certain death.

It was something Vergil admired on you, though. You had everything to fear those you fought against – and, sometimes, you knew you were overpowered by them. Even so, you wouldn’t allow that to show, you would masterfully control your emotions and only let out those you allowed your enemies to see. Vergil was quite proud of that.

“It’s peculiar to those of us who rather use our minds instead of our powers.” Erlach’s eyes lost all interest they had on the documents and were immediately glued to you and you only. Not once you shifted your gaze, and not once your body seemed to want to run away. You just stood there, immobile, gazing back at his fiery eyes with the same conviction as his – waiting the rest of his answer. “You see, I could break your bones with the flick of my wrist, but that wouldn’t be so fun, would it…?” Erlach approached with a slight smile on his lips, some fun playing in his words. His steps were slow and calculated, everything he could to inspire fear in your human heart. “There’s so much more in this world than bending it to your will by force.”

“It is a lot easier. Or so did Mundus think.” You crossed your arms and slightly raised your head, failing to notice how arrogant you looked… Just like Vergil used to be. Dante said one day both of you would get your ass kicked for looking cocky and, well, your day might have arrived. You wouldn’t let your pride slip out of you, tough, and something about Erlach’s demeanor made you think he wasn’t really annoyed by it. His feelings were… Something else.

“It didn’t take him too far, did it…?” Erlach raised one of his eyebrows, slowly approaching you once again. He looked like a predator ready to pounce on his pray, but instead of running, you maintained your posture. The one the Dark Slayer taught you. The one from knowing the power of being tied to the blood of Sparda. “Mundus was arrogant to think humans were only meat.”

“Apparently we are unwilling wedding participants too.” You scoffed, making Erlach laugh in response. You had to hide how his reaction took you by surprise: how much did you have to taunt him for that demon lord to finally lose his temper? “I don’t suppose you brought me here only to properly propose to me.”

“Differently from the Spardas, I do believe in taking some things by force.” Erlach’s voice had a delight laced in his words that made you… Slightly uncomfortable. “The ritual is taking place tonight, whether you and your friend agree to it or not. I just wanted to look into your eyes and see what the son of Sparda, the Dark Slayer who had been locked in Hell for decades, saw in you. A bond between a demon and any mortal creature isn’t one to be taken lightly.”

“Well, then you aren’t in luck. I am not married to Vergil, nor do I think he will ever want to be.” Your answer was certain and, to the demon’s surprise, carried no tinge of bitterness. You and Vergil had an agreement regarding your relationship: he would be with you for as long as you would have him, but he would never think of binding you to his fate like his father did to his mother. You had said countless times you didn’t mind and you weren’t afraid, but it wasn’t something Vergil was ready for. And you could respect that. “Our bond is not what you think it is.”

“Oh, it is exactly what I think it is.” Erlach’s words carried a truth you feared you weren’t able to see at the moment – as if he knew something you didn’t. You had to control your feelings not to furrow your brows and allow him to see your confusion, hiding it under your unbothered and strong demeanor – like whatever words he said could never affect you. “It isn’t a ceremonial bond, but one of souls. The heart does not lie, my exquisite guest, and the Spardas seem to be haunted by their father’s heartful curse.” His fingers grasped an old piece of paper in one of the desks by your side; Erlach’s indifferent eyes analyzed its contents while he spoke. “I will never understand why Sparda decided not to follow our rituals. He could’ve been great; Greater than Mundus himself. But he chose to diminish and turn himself as human as he could be… and look at what happened to him and his family. A shame, really.” He tossed aside the paper, and you could see an old picture of Sparda and Eva, falling apart from how old it was. Probably cut out from a book, looking like a painting; a portrait made long ago, before Dante and Vergil were even born. “Our marriage is called a binding ritual. It requires two souls to connect, and it makes one of them more powerful than one could ever dream of.”

“Hmmm. It requires one to diminish itself and be a powerless servant, then. I can see why Sparda discarded this option.” He would’ve never done such a thing to Eva, and that you had learned from all the stories Vergil told you from his parents. If you had only known the story from the books and popular tales, you would’ve asked yourself the same thing and have the same questions Erlach had – but you did have Sparda’s own son to tell the story. To paint you how his father was warm, stern, yes, but still kind, graceful and loving… To paint him as human. In all his adoration for Eva, he would never think of turning her into a powerless slave to his will. That was not what love was. “You still have much to learn.”

Erlach’s fiery eyes immediately met yours – but they didn’t carry the offense you thought they would. There was something else inside his demonic eyes. Was it… Excitement? Maybe…?

“Oh, little human, you have much to learn then to think some wouldn’t appreciate being slaves to their partner’s will. It is all a matter of pleasure.” His smile, though, immediately made you uncomfortable. If that subject had been mentioned by Vergil, you would definitely answer with a sassy smile and state that, in a matter of fact, you did know about that – and see where that conversation with your devilish partner would get you. But with Erlach…? It sounded more like a warning rather than anything else. Definitely a red flag waving in front of you. “The other soul does get something in return – some very important things in Hell: protection and status. Desecrating the partner of one of the most powerful demons to ever live could easily be a death sentence to whatever demon foolish enough to do so.”

“If that is the case, and I am bonded to Vergil, I wonder how foolish you have to be to willingly kidnap and forcefully wed the partner of the King of Hell.”

You wouldn’t admit it out loud. You wouldn’t even say it in front of Dante and Nero. Whenever the subject decided to appear, you just nodded, agreeing with the others that what Vergil did was horrifying and terribly wrong.

But you couldn’t deny the power trip on the rare occasions you decided to flex Vergil’s King of Hell title.

It had its perks.

“Only foolish if I don’t finish the ritual in time, my little human. I was also careful enough to find myself some leverage.” Erlach immediately waved at the door, referring to Kyrie. You didn’t want to sigh in acknowledgement, but that was enough to at least try to put some halt in Vergil’s murderous rampage. Or to make Nero hold his father on a leash if Vergil just decided to recklessly kill everything on sight. You had some serious concerns those demons heavily understated Vergil’s power. “I had no intentions to let Orcus partake in this ritual but I did need a brute to carry out most of the killing; it would be terribly boring.” With those words, Erlach approached enough to stop right in front of you. At any moment you flinched or decided to walk back, even if everything in your being wanted to put some very good distance between the both of you. Preferably a Vergil of distance. “Therefore, he can bind himself to the weakest of partners. The grandson of Sparda clearly isn’t as attuned to power as Sparda’s spawns.”

“Only a demon would think a human heart is weaker than a devil’s will.” You scoffed in response, raising your head once even higher – in part to be able to look at Erlach directly in his eyes. Vergil’s gaze could cut like the sharpest of ice, and you had seen those silvery eyes in their worst. Erlach’s gaze was nothing compared to the Dark Slayer. “Maybe that was the source of Sparda’s power, have you ever thought of that?”

You would never throw a demon lord like Erlach at Kyrie, but you were quite certain he wouldn’t appreciate the truth to your words and would never turn to the crew’s little angel as the most powerful of partners. Demons could be quite predictable in your book.

“Hmmm. Maybe humans measure their status through empathy, but in Hell…” Erlach’s eyes leveled with yours, his head bowing to be able to share his gaze with you – and, instead of fear, he found something else… Something closer to pride. You were the counterpart of the King of Hell after all, weren’t you? You would never bow your head and lose your crown, Erlach was beginning to understand that. And appreciate that. “We measure through power. And you carry quite the power within you, dearest human. Vergil, the Son of Sparda, wouldn’t accept any less with all the titles he carries. He is part demon, after all.”

That was some food for thought that had never crossed your mind before. Yes, Vergil was partly human, but without a doubt, it was Dante who got most of Eva’s heart. Vergil always took pride in his demonic heritage and power, and always found solace in that – he slowly came to terms with his own humanity and learned to appreciate the human heart, but the thirst for power ran deep in his demonic veins. He did see something in you more than your human empathy… Or else, his devil would never consider bowing to you.

“Hmmm. If all you search is power then, you can always betray Orcus and perform the ritual only for yourself.” You had a spark of sharp intelligence in your eyes, making Erlach widen his smile as the words poured from your lips. “Surely a creature like you wouldn’t mind some backstabbing and murder to keep all the power to yourself.”

“Oh, my sweet temptation, I have to say, I love the way you think…!” Now his voice had a trail of smoldering lust that not even you could deny it was there. Yes, you were trying to manipulate the demon into killing Orcus and leaving only one demon lord for you to deal with – which would make your life quite easy – and probably releasing Kyrie while at it. But you never expected your little game to backfire so gloriously: perhaps Vergil was right when he said you still had a thing or two to learn about his kind. “And I know what you are trying to do – very exciting. A battle of wits and manipulation with a devil, you are truly fearless.” You didn’t think Erlach couldn’t approach you even more, but there he was, towering over you in a way you could almost feel his hot breath on your face. Even if you wanted to void-teleport Vergil right between you at that very moment, you wouldn’t back down – it wasn’t in you. “When all this started, I thought only to bond with a powerful creature of human blood – now… You have proven to be spellbounding, sweet sweet creature. I see what Vergil saw in you: all the cleverness, might, strength, wits; all that fire.” With those words, Erlach offered you his hand, with those fiery eyes staring inside your soul. “I will take you as my partner, but you can do it willingly. I will give you protection and you will be royalty in Hellish realms. You will rule by my side: everything we want is ours for the taking, and anything you ask, I will give you. Kingdoms, realms, worlds. Every living creature that has ever taken a breath will bow to us – the world is mine and yours to rule… You just have to say yes.”

Erlach’s words took you by surprise – your head spun and you thought soon your feet wouldn’t know how to keep you stable on the floor. Your plans backfiring was a serious understatement. You never gave Erlach a reason to like you: on the contraire, you only gave him reasons to be extremely annoyed and suspicious of any and all of your actions. He had no hidden agendas in his words, as far as you could see, and it was extremely obvious what was going on.

You just didn’t expect that to happen, out of all the outcomes of that night.

“Why would I do that when I am already royalty?” Your answer, though, came back with the icy stare you learned from your beloved blue devil, crossing your arms once more and raising your head high just like he used to do. It wasn’t something you did consciously – with time, people develop some mannerisms of their loved ones, and you were no different.

You just got Vergil’s arrogance – and you were more than ready to pay for your tongue. That little game between you and Erlach had already gone too far: you had spotted a few things in the room you could use as a weapon and you were ready to go feral if he attacked you because of your insolence.

You were disarmed, though, when Erlach started laughing – a laugh of pure delight.

“I will have to steal, then. Just like Paris did to Helen of Troy.”

“But remember: an entire kingdom burned just so that King Menelaus could have Helen of Sparta back.”

“Indeed, Beautiful Helen. I shall keep that in mind.” With those words, Erlach’s rough hands took one of yours by force and placed a sharp kiss on your soft skin – that seemed to burn like a lingering fire even after you were teleported back to your improvised cell.

You had to sit down. You had to sit down. That night was already becoming quite the ride – and you thought your Halloween nights couldn’t be even wilder than the ones you had already had so far. But there you were, proven wrong, by a demon lord with a crazy ancient ritual that required a demonic marriage. You were flabbergasted, shocked, breathless… And a little scared.

Vergil had always warned you not to play with demons – especially with those who were witty enough to answer at your level. You always thought he warned you so you could dodge being fooled and trapped into a deal you never saw coming in the first place – he never told you one of those creatures could develop feelings towards you.

“Y/n? Are you ok?!” Kyrie rushed towards you, sitting by your side on that bench you were before, checking your temperature. You were still staring at some lost point on the ground, clearly questioning your life choices so far. “Y/n! Did he hurt you?! What happened?!”

“I think one of the most absurd things just happened in this lifetime…” You murmured, finally staring back at her with a concerned look – but somewhat empty eyes. Kyrie just had her eyebrows furrowed, because if something worried you then she should be even more worried. “I think a demon lord just fell in love with me.”

“Ooooh, no…” The dread in Kyrie’s voice could be understood by even the most clueless of creatures. She closed her eyes, already foreseeing chaos and destruction. “Vergil is going to go on a rampage.”

Yes. And, honestly, you weren’t looking forward to that.

“I know we are in a hurry…!” Lady was leaning out the open door of the Devil May Cry van while Nico drove furiously right behind Dante’s trail. Screaming at the red devil while on the road wasn’t an easy – nor safe – task, but honestly, Lady had done worse. “But what are you trying to do, cowboy?! Not miss the train?!”

Dante immediately slowed down slightly, just so he could be side by side with the devil hunter he knew since his teen years. Looking up at her, Dante didn’t even have to watch the road to keep on going without running over anything – his demonic insight would make up for that.

“Kinda, Lady.” His answer was a little snarky, even if he didn’t want to. “Hey, kid! How are your instincts with your girl?!”

“Not good, I’ll tell ya that.” Nero growled, almost unable to stand still by Nico’s side. The gunsmith had made a mental note not to bother him through that whole evening: Nero’s fangs were already showing, his eyes had a tinge of gold, and his trigger distortion was already appearing in his voice. If she actually took some time to look at him, she would be able to see claws instead of nails and his hair a little bit longer than usual – almost like they were back in Fortuna. Nico still wasn’t used to half-triggered Nero and she could bet it would take some time. “Kyrie’s heart, she’s anxious. Somethin’s unsettling her. And I don’t like it. At all.”

With those words, Nero finished doing whatever he was doing with Red Queen and his sword clicked back into place, revving up with the engines he had installed long ago.

“If the kid is like that, imagine Vergil.” Dante stated back to Lady and Trish, now leaning by the open door completely unbothered by the speed and the wind. “He’s an idiot, but still, man’s got enough power to level a whole city. He’s an asshat who can control his feelings, alright, but he’s got one hell of a trauma and a thing for protecting. His partner is gone. He’s on a bloodlust rampage, trust me. We gotta get to this place before Vergil, or all hell will break lose.”

“Vergil’s our train. Got it.” Lady immediately turned serious, remembering all the times she had ever seen Vergil fight – and all he could do.

“Nico! Hit the gas pedal! We aren’t gonna get there in time going at this speed.” Trish strutted over the driver’s seat – always keeping an eye on Nero. She knew how half-triggers could be disorienting and dangerous, and she could help in case anything went wrong – after all, she was a full devil and, wanting or not, she could take down Nero in a fight, to some extent, if she ever had to. At least long enough to give Dante time to fight his nephew in a fit of rage.

“Already goin’ as fast as I can, demon lady!” Nico had her cigarette between her teeth and her foot never leaving the gas pedal. Indeed, it was the fastest speed for the van.

“We just gotta give it a spark, then.” With those words, Trish rested one of her hands on the van’s panel, her eyes immediately sparkling with thunderous yellow. Her demonic sparks ran through her body, pooling over her heart and running down her arm, jolting to the van and enveloping it on her signature yellow lighting.

“WOOOOAH!” Nico had to hold her cigarette even tighter, both hands on the wheel as the van seemed to fly on the road. “Are you CRAZY, woman?!”

“Keep your eyes on the road, virtuosa.” And Trish’s own glowing yellow eyes never left the streets. “We’ll make it there on time.”

“That’s what I’m talkin’ about!” Dante couldn’t help but laugh and use part of his own trigger to make Cavaliere go faster, now side by side with the van. “Keep it up, babe!”

They had to make it before Vergil. Dante knew in his heart he was the only one who could speak some logic back to his brother at a moment like that.

“Me and Vergil… We have a thing.”

You and Kyrie were being taken to the main event of the night: the ritual at the center of the derelict cathedral, under the light of the moon and the stars, witnessed by demons and the lost souls on the forgotten cemetery nearby. Barely any stained-glass mosaics were left – but those that were gave the cathedral an eerie tinge of color; like ghosts long gone in a place that was once holy. Your steps echoed on the stony ground, and you could hear the crackling of an enormous bonfire in the distance – as well as see the distorted, tall shadows of the demons taking both of you to your doom.

“I’m not saying it’s a good thing. I’m just saying it’s a thing.” You sighed, making her hazelnut eyes stare at you with interest as you walked proudly in front of her. The demons forced Kyrie to walk and kept shoving her until you made them only escort you to the ritual with just a stare of authority – she had to admit, you and Vergil were very much alike in some departments. “I can… Sense him sometimes. And he can sense me, whenever he wants to. It has to do with the arcane studies and the fact that we are partners.” You remained silent for a few seconds, closing your eyes for a while to take a deep breath before opening them again. “He can feel my distress. He knows when I’m worried, anxious, in danger.”

“Hmmm… Nero can do that too… I wonder if it’s a family thing.” Kyrie whispered back, not wanting the other demons to hear your conversation. You kept as close to her as possible, but still walking in front of her: if anything happened, it had better happen to you first.

“I wonder the same, too.” You answered with a breathy laugh, seeing the beauty of Vergil’s son being so alike him sometimes – and you wondered if Sparda had the same with Eva; with your heart already knowing the answer. “Sometimes, I feel Vergil’s rage too. His despair. His loneliness. His pain.” You went silent for a while, not really wanting to elaborate on that. It was the first time you were talking about that to someone on the crew – the first time you told Vergil, you had no idea what to do with those emotions and to say it was a roller coaster of a night to both of you, was an understatement. “What I feel is only a shadow of what he feels. And when he feels me, there is no force on Earth that will stop him. He will find me and, if need be, obliterate whatever is causing me trouble.”

“Oh.”

Kyrie finally understood why you said that wasn’t necessarily a good thing. When it came to her and Nero, their connection was deep and strong – and she had never seen anything like that before. But, the way you were speaking, it was different with you and Vergil… Maybe even stronger. And, when it came to Vergil, that could be for good or for bad.

You had to wonder how it was with Eva and Sparda. He was a demon, after all, and she was human. If Vergil was already that protective towards you, and that ruthless when it came to his enemies, you could see Sparda destroying entire countries for the woman he loved – being a harbinger of nothing but death, ruin and despair, only to have her feeling safe in his arms once again.

The fall of the city of Troy never made so much sense to you before that moment. Even if in the original story Helen’s heart was taken by Paris, still, Menelaus burned, killed, maimed and destroyed everything in his way just so she could be Helen of Sparta again… You could see Vergil and his father doing the same – but, in yours and Eva’s case, you would be longing to be back into their arms once more.

“Vergil is coming. And he is not in his best shape, emotionally speaking.” You whispered back to Kyrie so she could understand the extent of the situation you were in. “What I just felt, I could kill one of these demons with my bare hands. When Vergil’s here, he will do his best not to hurt you, but he is focused in one thing only so… Get out of his way. And I’m not trying to be rude…”

“I understand.” Kyrie whispered back, carefully noticing the demons eyeing each other. She knew you weren’t really giving her a warning, you were playing a little game: planting seeds of terror and discord so they would tear each other apart from the inside just from being afraid of Vergil. It was a clever move and Kyrie would’ve praised you if she had the chance. “I’ve already seen Nero almost go on a rampage. It really isn’t nice. I hope he doesn’t try to join his father, or there will not be a single rock left standing in this cathedral soon enough.”

She decided to play your game, noticing a slight smile of approval on the corner of your lips. All of you hunters always had smart strategies to deal with the demons you did on a daily basis, but, when you were completely stripped of your weapons just like on that moment, you had to resort to other ways of fighting.

Your scheming had to be put to a halt for a while when you approached the decaying wooden doors that opened your path down the church’s aisle – a moth eaten dark red carpet, now almost black from dirt and time, painting the path you should follow; until you would stand side by side with the devil who kidnapped you, now waiting for your presence by a tall bonfire at the center of the cathedral, illuminating an altar right behind Erlach.

Things suddenly seemed even more serious now and your heart sunk in your chest. As you started to walk down the aisle, the demons watching that hellish ceremony chanted and hit their weapons or claws rhythmically on the stony floor. Kyrie was held by one of the demons who guided you towards the aisle, outside of that madness, but soon to go in after your ritual came to an end – after you got married.

A few seconds after your heart seemed to have sunken on the floor, you felt a rage bubbling inside your chest, threatening to come out of your mouth with an earth shattering scream; running through your body like a violent bolt of lightning, resting on your hands that immediately closed to fists as you raised your head high: for a split second, if you saw anything that could be used as a weapon to cut Erlach’s head off its neck, you would’ve taken it and plunged in like a furious beast.

That lightning, though, dissipated as fast as it ran through your body. You didn’t lose your posture and kept walking with certain, hard steps towards your fate – but that blind bloody rage was gone.

It was Vergil.

You knew it was him. It was right after you had that desperate, desolating feeling of not knowing what to do, of watching that harrowing scene right in front of you and not knowing how to get out… Of feeling trapped like a little mouse on a cage. You felt some of Vergil’s emotions in a very fleeting manner – in a bolt of lightning – but he could feel yours more certainly and longingly. That bloodthirst that ran through your body… It was just a fleeting taste of Vergil’s emotional response to knowing how unsafe you felt.

After all he had been through, protection was a big thing for your blue devil. He silently promised nothing would ever happen to his newfound family now that he was strong enough to protect not only himself, but everyone around him. Knowing you were vulnerable, completely exposed, feeling like prey and he wasn’t around to keep you safe… To say Vergil’s demonic blood was boiling was a great understatement.

“Come, brilliant creature among humans. Midnight is close, and the ritual must be completed.” Erlach offered you his rough, devilish hand so you could take and approach the altar with him – a stone containing a couple of candles and an old golden bow, marked by ancient, dry blood.

You stopped right where you were, not taking his hand, but still staring into his eyes. You were thinking of words of defiance, of improvised weapons, of anything you could do to get you and Kyrie out of there. If you had to fight that demon with hands and teeth, so be it, but you wouldn’t back down – and if it was for you to die, you would die fighting.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a roaring thunder rumbling through the pitch-black skies right above your heads. You couldn’t see any clouds and it didn’t seem like it was going to rain earlier that day, but that ominous thunder roared once more – with a flash of a lightning in the distance cracking down from the sky suddenly illuminating your face as you opened a broad smile. Erlach only eyed you with confusion, taken aback by the sudden prelude of rain.

“A storm is approaching.” Your somber voice did not match the smile across your lips and Erlach’s eyes filled with understanding – even if he himself didn’t think that was possible for only a half-demon like the Dark Slayer. “You have yet time to give up this foolishness before he arrives.”

“I am not scared by a little thunder, human. You shall learn that in time.” The demon decided to ignore the warning on your voice, taking your hand with a little too much strength, already guiding you to the altar.

But you heard whispers – among the other demons, yours and Kyrie's words were being replicated, some of them resting silent while others laughed. With your ominous warning over a simple storm, though, they started to wander… To fear. Was that something done by your lover? Was that the extent of Sparda’s power? The Dark Slayer, the one who escaped from Hell and from his imprisonment by none other than Mundus, was that powerful…? They didn’t know. And some of them, didn’t want to find out.

“Oh, you will learn to be scared.” You whispered, back, slowly going up the few steps that kept you and Erlach far from each other. He conducted you with an iron grip, while the only thing you had in mind was to buy Vergil more time to get to you. “As all of you do.”

“Not if I get the ritual done first.” With those harsh words, Erlach gripped your arm in a way you couldn’t escape, even if his gestures were a lot more flourished than brute. You saw a ritualistic dagger in his other hand and you knew what the next step would be. “Then he shall learn a thing or two about fear.”

His hands moved so fast you didn’t have time to quip back – even if you wanted to answer that, after all Vergil had been through, making him feel fear was quite the achievement. Very few things could frighten his heart and soul… And you were oblivious enough to point out that, Vergil’s protective and enraged response that day was not only out of love, but out of fear of losing you.

Before Erlach could resume cutting your hand to harvest your blood for the bonding ritual, you managed to pierce his arm with a white summoned sword. With that surprise, Erlach dropped the weapon and you took it in your hand – twisting it and approaching him enough to press it against his neck, already making him bleed. You just didn’t manage to kill him because his survival reflexes made him snap our of his surprise and hold your hand against his neck, struggling with you in order to see who would win: you, by taking his life, or him, by taking you as his.

“My King of Hell isn’t the only one who should be feared, demon. You will learn that with time.” Your voice was low and filled with pride, hearing as the other demons immediately started whispering to each other: Orcus and Erlach probably didn’t tell them all the titles your lover carried.

As if to support you, another thunder roared in the skies and a lightning cracked near the desecrated cathedral. Some demons seemed to gasp and become startled, expecting Vergil to emerge from the shadows at any moment.

A few drops of water started to fall on your hair, your face, and run down your hands… And between your lips as you smiled.

“You are indeed a rare one.” But, to your surprise, Erlach smiled back. His sharp nails buried in the skin of your arm holding the knife, making you relax your grip ever so slightly as blood started to run from the wounds he inflicted. “Blood is blood. No matter how I attain it. Alas, I wanted our bonding to be beautiful, but this will do.”

With your blood running down his claws, Erlach grasped the blade on his neck, cutting his own hand even if you didn’t let the dagger go. Reaching out for the golden bowl, you once again tried to stab his neck, but the demon finally let go of your other arm only to hold your hand back. As you both struggled, you did your best to keep his hand away from the bowl, with Erlach already muttering some words in a language long lost to your human ears.

It was your blood already mixed with his. Whatever you did, he couldn’t reach that bowl for anything in this world.

You didn’t notice when the rain became stronger. You didn’t notice when Orcus moved Kyrie away from the door. You didn’t notice when the thunders seemed to roar inside the earth beneath your feet. All your strength was concentrated in keeping Erlach away from the altar, and all his strength was focused on completing the ritual on time.

“Before me all things create were none, save things Eternal, and Eternal I shall endure.*” Oh, you would recognize that voice even if you were dead. The words creeped through the stone walls of the cathedral, accompanied by calm, calculated steps approaching with resolve. The demons’ attentions turned to the rotten door, as well as yours and Erlach’s eyes, finally stopping to struggle. Vergil’s silhouette finally made itself visible, as if he was taken by a cold blue aura in the darkness – his silvery eyes set on you and your foe, one of his hands grasping the hilt of the Yamato as the other kept the sword safe at his side. “Per aspera, ad Inferi.”

There was a change in the air. Your very breath seemed to warp around you as time became slurred and thick. For a few moments it was difficult to breathe, as the storm outside that desecrated place looked like it would start bleeding inside the cathedral. You stumbled back, closer to the altar, dragging Erlach with you – you knew what was coming. Some demons tried to run, others froze in place, while some got ready to fight.

You could see how that cold, fiery blue started to cut the air – a split second before Vergil disappeared and all you could hear was the sound of the Yamato slicing everything in sight. Time stopped for a while, your breath disappeared from your lungs, your heart didn’t beat. You held yourself together as strongly as you could, while Erlach stared at that view with a pair of impressed – or maybe even fearful – eyes.

Vergil appeared once more, now standing a few meters away from you – all he had to do was climb the steps to finally reach you. Placing Yamato in its sheath, Vergil took a few long seconds to get the shiny blade to slide down and, with a click, make most of the demons – and whatever decoration that was left standing – fall apart in piles of flesh and blood.

You didn’t want to say you had warned them, but well… You had warned them.

“You’re too late, Dark Slayer.” With those words, Erlach reached the bowl – now even closer than before, since you dragged him back not to be so close to a judgement cut of that magnitude. His words were like a bell, waking you up to the reality that a single drip of your mixed blood in the gold, and it would all be over.

But Vergil unsheathed Yamato once again, as fast as he moved down the aisle to reach you, and the golden bowl was cut in half – cracking in some places, gold dust spilling at your feet.

“You should learn, demon, some things can never be taken by force.” Vergil’s voice was like a velvety murmur in the dark – and you knew, the quieter he grew, the more time he had to marinate his anger. “Love, is one of them. Respect, is another.”

Those silvery eyes finally landed on yours, as a faint smile spread across your lips. Love would be nothing without respect, and Vergil argued that earning your respect was one of the most honorable things you could have graced him with – not that the love was not of importance, but if you had never come to respect him, the love you shared would have never flourished… And the reciprocate was true.

“Well, well, looks like we’ve arrived in time.” You heard Dante sighing by the door, guns already on his hands. “Big bad demon is all yours, Verge. We’ll handle things back here.”

“Kyrie!” And you barely saw Nero as he ran towards Orcus with all the rage of the world in his eyes, slicing demons in the way with a revved up Red Queen and leaving a trail of fire behind him. Sometimes he was a lot like his own father, but other times, his uncle's heritage shined through.

Vergil didn’t even look back at the crew already killing the demons who fought and who tried to run away – he only had eyes for you and the filthy creature holding you in its arms.

“Last time I saw you, my whips cracked on that soft skin of yours, spawn of Sparda.” And for the first time that night, you heard some more emotion on Erlach’s voice – something close to hate. Maybe he wasn’t as controlled as he said he was… Maybe he was prone to violence after all. “You tried your best to hold back your tears as your filthy blood tainted the floors of Hell. But everything cracks, eventually.”

A jolt of pain burned across your skin on your back as if you were naked, as fast as a bolt of lightning. You couldn’t help but to wince at the feeling, even if Vergil and Erlach remained immobile. In a fraction of a second, you understood a little of that pain, of a memory in the back of Vergil’s head that came back like a kick in the stomach, and it seemed not to affect him at all – but you knew, you could feel what he didn’t show.

The pain was fleeting, but the anger wasn’t – that was yours and yours only. As you suddenly flinched, you took advantage of that moment of surprise to move your arms once again and the strength of your boiling anger to slash Erlach as you could, eager to take a piece of him… Eager to kill him after the suffering he put your lover through.

“Everything cracks indeed.” You murmured as he took one of his hands to his face, noticing the considerable gash you opened on his cracked skin – now pouring blood profusely. “Next, I will cut your tongue.”

You heard a quick chuckle from Vergil, silvery eyes observing you with so much pride – and a little of something else. Pride was always easy to see in him: the way he carried himself, the way he posed with his head high, the way his eyes admired that which he respected and loved… But care was a different thing. If you were looking at your lover, it would take you some time to notice, but his admiration for you was never ending behind his pride to be able to call you his.

“I do understand how you came to love this human, that I will admit.” Erlach hissed back at Vergil, licking his own blood from his fingers. Risking a glance at the cathedral, the demon assessed the situation: the bowl was broken, the demons were all but destroyed, fleeing from the weapons of Dante, Lady and Trish, Nero had Kyrie back in his arms and Orcus was nowhere to be seen. “I truly underestimated the depth of your feelings for such a fragile creature.”

“Eloquent words, but no wisdom behind them.” Vergil’s response was prideful as always, as he walked the small set of steps to reach you – and probably slice Erlach apart. “Fragile is far from what I would use to describe y/n. I will burn bridges, destroy cities, crush entire empires to protect those whom I love and respect. There is nothing of fragile in that.” Pointing Yamato at Erlach, the blade almost touched the wound you inflicted in the demon’s neck. “You should remember that as I kill you for this insolence, pitiful scum.”

His stern eyes glinted with a tint of blue, as Vergil’s teeth were already sharp in fangs. His hands around the Yamato already started to resemble claws and his voice, even if you would love it in all of its iterations, had that distinct demonic distortion. His blue fire engulfed him like a faint shadow, but it did make your lover look even taller than he already was. On the brink of his humanity, it would take only a spark to make him burst into his demonic form.

“King of Hell.” You mouthed at Erlach while pointing at Vergil right in front of you, as if to prove a point – the point you wanted to prove from the beginning: no matter what those demons did, Vergil was stronger and more powerful than all of them together.

And, of course, you could use another rush of power whenever you flexed that title. You just hoped no one else in the crew would see it: you’d be in for some harsh judgement if they did.

“I shall remember for the next time we meet, son of Sparda.” Erlach turned his fiery eyes to you. “And I shall see you again, brilliant Helen.”

With those words, the demon used its own blood for an incantation to flee a battle he would definitely lose – a smart move, even if you didn’t know where he went… And if that ominous warning was not something you would have wanted to hear. You would prefer to see him dead.

“Hmmm… Bold of this creature to assume it could steal your love like foolish Paris.” Vergil had to murmur under his breath, immediately turning around to face you, Yamato quickly back on its sheath. Before you could say anything, Vergil took your hand in his with a surprising gentle touch, only so he could analyze the bloody scratches on your arm – as well as allow his silver eyes to burn with wrath. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

“No, that’s the only wound. You don’t need to worry, Vergil.” Your answer, though, made his eyes fly to look into yours as if you had said one of the most jarring things he had ever heard.

“I will always worry about you. You know that.”

He didn’t have to say, you could feel it. You had felt his worrying ever since he had learned it was Erlach who kidnapped you and wanted to complete that mad bonding ritual. Vergil’s worry was in his fear of losing whatever love he managed to have in that godforsaken life of his, and that usually manifested in an unparalleled anger in him. All that wrath… It was one of the highest praises you could ever get from your lover.

Placing both of your hands to cradle his face, you didn’t allow Vergil to keep on speaking as you pressed your lips against his. It was one of the most effective ways you could rest that flame inside his heart and bring him some peace – the same way the droplets of rain seemed to want to wash away all the blood and fury of that night. It took him a couple of seconds to start melting under your touch, arms wrapping around your waist and bringing you closer to his body, as your kiss quieted the fear that burned inside his heart.

You parted from his lips, even if Vergil himself didn’t seem to want to do so. His breathing, though, was already going back to a normal pace and you couldn’t feel his fangs under your lips anymore. As those silvery eyes stared back at you, the blue tinges were gradually gone. You took your hands to his hair, taking the rebellious strands that were already falling on his vision and brushing them back into his usual hairstyle – and Vergil even allowed himself to thank you with a soft smile.

“I cannot help but wonder, though…” He finally murmured, voice back to his dark tone with no traces of his demonic side showing up. “What, in the name of the gods, you are wearing.”

“Apparently, this hideous thing is what demons consider a wedding attire.” You sighed back, still in his embrace. You refused to look down and see yourself in that ridiculous thing again. “I wanted to get rid of it, but alas, the other option was to be completely naked.”

“Hmmm…” You didn’t know if Vergil hummed or growled, but you did know he was quite unpleased by that sight – almost as much as you. Taking your hand, Vergil guided you around the enormous bonfire behind the altar, in a place the crew couldn’t see you. “Don’t move.”

Before you could even ask what he had in mind, the air around you warped and your clothes fell on the ground after a quick and clean judgment cut.

That was a way to solve things, but…

“My clothes…”

Vergil immediately took off his coat, wrapping it around you and keeping you close, helping you dress it and hold it closed in front of you. It was a lot bigger than your form, and definitely a heavy piece of clothing, but it smelled like him – and that was one of the things that could always calm the distress in your heart.

“We will find your clothes. But you cannot walk around dressed like a clown.” With you still in his arms, Vergil placed a rather long kiss on your forehead, catching you by surprise.

A nice surprise that made you smile.

“On that, I agree with you. If we were ever to get married, I would have never worn such a thing.” You whispered back, making him chuckle while staring into your eyes again. Sometimes, the ice in his silver stare seemed to melt for a while, just like at that moment.

“You would be a beautiful sight to see.” His answer was also a whisper, and a rather unexpected one: that was something you never expected Vergil to say. He often mentioned how Sparda marrying Eva was a blessing to him and a curse to her, even if you insisted on arguing that probably wasn’t true; but you would never expect Vergil, of all people, would have imagined you on a wedding day… With him.

“Hey! Are you both makin’ out behind that bonfire? C’mon, it’s not time for that, Verge! Did mom never teach you to have manners?”

Dante’s voice interrupted whatever you could say in response, as Vergil already started to growl in annoyance at what his twin brother was implying. You headed back to the crew, twins ready to start bickering once again, as always. You saw Kyrie wearing Nero’s coat and couldn’t help but giggle – like father like son.

You sighed, finding Vergil’s fingers and entangling his between yours – his touch reciprocating immediately. It was time to go home.

“Your fingers are cold.”

Vergil held your hands close to him as you waited for the crew to drive back to the shop. Nico was smoking behind the wheel and you took some time to rest as everyone tried to find what the demons stole from you and Kyrie as well as where they found out about that binding ritual – or demonic marriage, as you began to enjoy calling it.

Your lover couldn’t stay away from you for too long, though. He came back after a little while, not wanting to admit he was too worried to leave you alone for more then a couple of minutes – even if you were with Nico.

He would argue if something bad happened, you would be the one doing the saving while Nico would be screaming around and trying to run demons over… And you couldn’t really disagree with him on that.

“Well, it’s part of my human condition.” You smiled back as Vergil had his mouth close to your hands, trying to warm them up with his breath. On the other hand, there was your blue devil, arms completely naked under his leather vest, oblivious to the weather. “I can’t keep myself warm while naked under a snowstorm like some.”

“Well, I cannot either.” Even if his eyes were a little harsh upon looking at you, there was also some amusement hidden underneath the ice. “Although I would survive enough to get you to safety.”

Vergil’s eyes went back to your hands while you kept on observing how he occupied himself with the task of warming you. His lips were close enough so you could feel them ghosting over your fingers, but never touching your skin. His rough hands cradled yours with a touch so gentle one would never expect from the likes of him. Everything about Vergil screamed danger, but when it came to you, it was completely opposite.

“I wished so bad you would find me.” You finally whispered, keeping your eyes close. Feelings weren’t easy for the both of you; somehow, you found that closing your eyes while being around only him was easier to allow your heart to open – and there were times Vergil did the very same thing when talking to you. “I… I did my best not to seem frightened. Kyrie needed me to stay strong, the demons couldn’t know and have the upper hand. But I was scared. I was lost. And I wished, deep inside my heart, you’d somehow find me in the darkness.”

“I know.” His answer was quiet, hands still wrapped around yours. You could feel Vergil’s breath as he spoke, slowly opening your eyes to find his looking back at your once again. “I know. No matter where you are, I will always find you.”

For a few seconds, the air lacked in your lungs and the words in your mouth. If you weren’t alone, you would’ve fought the tears that marinated your eyes, even if you didn’t want them to fall – they would rest there, making it seem like you were observing Vergil with a whole universe in yourself, just for him. And he would always appreciate that.

“As soon as I felt your rage, I knew you were coming.” You confided back, making him furrow his brows for a while. “I happen to be pretty good at energy work, Vergil. Remember sometimes I get to feel you back? I did today. And that’s when I knew I was safe.”

The last pieces of the puzzle arranged themselves in Vergil’s head: of course, when he got the strongest emotions from you, it was easier for you to get his. But when his emotions were too strong, that connection could work as well, for better or for worse – and he remembered how you flinched in the cathedral when Erlach mentioned how he tortured Vergil… When he was taken aback for a few moments suddenly feeling that pain he tried so hard to forget.

It was a shame you had to feel that too – his eyes went down to your hands while his eyebrows furrowed now from annoyance rather than confusion.

“Don’t beat yourself up about it.” You whispered back, placing your fingers under his chin and making Vergil look back into your eyes. “I’m here for the good, the bad and the ugly – no matter how harrowing it gets. You can always rely on me, as I know I can always rely on you.”

“As long as time will have us be together.”

Vergil’s murmured response was crowned with a gentle kiss on your hands, making you smile softly in return. You knew he was still annoyed with the fact you felt the worst of his emotions, but at least you were safe – and, for now, he would have to settle for that. You just hoped one day Vergil understood you didn’t see those terrible things that happened to him as a flaw, but as something he didn’t have to carry quietly on his own.

It just made you respect him even more than you already did.

“You don’t realize what you are, do you…?” Your question was a little absent as you kept on observing his stern face, with those silvery eyes now staring at you in confusion and distress: his heart beating a little faster, concluding you finally came to your senses that you had decided to give your love to a devil. “You deem yourself as one of the cruelest and worst creatures to ever walk the earth, but you don’t realize… Demons don’t protect their loved ones like you did today.”

To his surprise, you wrapped your arms around his neck, making Vergil instinctively hold your waist so you wouldn’t lose your balance. All the while, you never allowed those vulnerable silver eyes to leave yours.

“Angels do.”

As you placed your lips on his, Vergil’s embrace held you tightly against him – and even after you parted, he remained holding you, his head hidden in your shoulders and your hair. Vergil was silent and didn’t make a single noise, but you could feel the tears leaking into your mouth during the kiss and later dropping on your neck.

His heart could take a lot of harshness and cruelty, pain and torture, without even flinching. But this time… It was the first time in his life that Vergil was seen as good.

And his heart wasn’t used to that.

----

*Inferno, by Dante Allighieri

#devil may cry #devil may cry imagine #dmc #dmc imagine #vergil x reader #vergil imagine #devil may cry fanfiction #dmc fanfiction #dmc vergil #vergil sparda #devil may halloween #SO MUCH HAPPENING ON THIS #but for some reason I remembered when I was playing DMC4 with Vergil for the first time #having the hero music blasting on the back with Vergil saving the day #I found myself almost crying thinking 'this man hasn't had a DAY of rest in his life and probably was NEVER seen as good or as a hero'#and made me think how MUCH Vergil needs that #he needs to hear he's an angel sometimes #that would DESTROY this man #being tortured? fine #dragging his dying body out of hell? been there done that #having his lover tell him he's good? man is a crying mess on the floor not knowing what to do with this thing inside his chest #(it's called heart silly)

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delumimi · 1 year ago

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do you have any fics recommendations of Leon? I’ve been wanting to read some for a while 💗

I do!!! Idk what kinds of fics you are into but these are some of my favorite ones <3 These includes Ao3 fics too.

yall BETTER read Sinful, one of my favorite fics and it’s not even finished yet trust me you won’t regret it! Tanya is an amazing writer <3

this is a royalty fic of Leon and when I tell you i’m OBSESSED with this!!! This just suits Leon so well and the author just have a way to write Leon so good (i hate Leon in this fic tho)

I just read this fic weeks ago and omg this is such a yes I LOVE IT, the tension between Leon and reader constantly has me giggling and kicking my feet, the thing I like about this fic is that the attention is only on Leon and reader makes the lecture more easy yk? You can also find the fic on @porcelainseashore

this one is for my death island Leon lovers!!! I can barely find anything with this version of Leon so reading this just cures my soul, it’s so honest and so pure it makes me believe men like him exist

I’m not asking you… I’m BEGGING you to read Little moments, it only has 2 parts but oml it’s such an intimate and hurt/comfort fic with spice that makes my heart go brrr honestly this is THE fic

this fic is just starting but oh lordddd the TENSIOOON between Leon and reader is fascinating and I like the concept of the fic I can’t say nothing more just READ IT.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy x reader #capcom #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy angst

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cinnbar-bun · 10 months ago

Text

The Outlaw Torn

Pairing: Risotto Nero x GN!Reader

Summary: "The more I search, the more my need for you / The more I bless, the more I bleed for you."

Risotto Nero reflects during a rainy day, all while trying to avoid the way everything reminds him of you.

Rating: SFW

Word Count: ~1.3k

Notes: Risotto Nero you will always be famous <3 enjoy some pining Risotto who broods for you. Title based off 'The Outlaw Torn' by Metallica. No spoilers, pre-VA, reader is GN.

AO3 link here!

Napoli during this time of year rains plenty. The smell of the rain against the stone roads makes him pause and inhale deeply. A young child accidentally brushes past him, clinging to her hat as she carries a roll of bread from the nearby bakery. He glances to the other side of the road and notices a businessman holding an umbrella and jogging while he clings to his business papers, some of which were flying behind him.

Napoli is full of life, even in the rain, something you taught him. Every lesson he learns from you, he keeps close to his heart. He closes his eyes, just letting the rain drench him. A bike bell rings as he feels a draft of air zoom past him. A young boy swears at him in Italian for just standing there, but he does not move or even flinch.

Napoli is beautiful, but it will never be as beautiful as you. It will never be enough, not in the way you were.

But he knows why you are not here, by his side, with him, for him. He opens his eyes and looks at his reflection in a window on at a small jewelry store.

Black sclera… red eyes… those are his most standout and defining traits. You said they were entrancing, that you wanted to look at them for a long time- something he didn’t usually allow. But for you, he could spare the time and have you appreciate his form.

The jewelers were releasing a new type of ring and diamond cut for the season. A teardrop shape to recognize the rainy season in Napoli.

Would you like something like that?

His mind wanders briefly before he turns away and continues to walk back to the hideout.

Patience. Don’t think of such things yet.

It’s rather selfish, really. It is because of him that you did not get closer to one another.

Risotto Nero knows better than to let his emotions get the best of him.

But you, you are an anomaly that ruined him, took parts of him and held it hostage, refusing to give them back.

He almost wished for you to keep them so you could remember him, at the very least.

Risotto knows it’s in poor taste to pursue you, after all, what assassin would ever keep a living trace of their existence somewhere? Who would ever allow for someone to get so close to them? Who would allow a piece of their heart to be free outside and possibly get injured as collateral?

Selfishness, really, is what keeps him thinking about you. If he was the same 18 year old who mercilessly hunted and killed his cousin’s murderer, you wouldn’t even be on his mind. He wouldn’t have ever entertained such a thing. But twenty-something Risotto has admittedly grown softer- perhaps due to a combination of La Squadra and your continued presence in his life.

He knows you would wait for him forever if he asked. He knows that you love him too deeply, too much for him to ever deserve. He couldn’t have found a more devoted and loyal person in all of Italy if he tried. He knows that and it kills him in more ways than it has any right to.

But the Risotto in his twenties knows something his younger self would never know.

You shouldn’t be with him.

You should be free, loved by a man who can offer you safety, comfort, and an easy life that does not put you in danger at every turn.

Even though every drop of blood in his body rushes for you, even though he would gladly bleed out for you- you don’t deserve his bullshit, he reckons. Even though he yearns to hold you close, prays for a chance to call you his and his alone, he knows it’s for the best you’re not beside him.

He can’t trust himself around you. You make him want something beyond revenge or money or territory. You’ll be a distraction.

That’s what he tells himself over and over, because Risotto is a selfish man who only has one thing on his mind- power.

He’s too good at his job, too good at killing and ending lives for the sake of his mission. And yet, here he is, untrusted by that very same boss who orders him around, no territory to claim for his squad, and hardly any money from the drug trafficking in the streets. It pisses him off that due to his success, he cannot reap the rewards from his completed assassinations.

If he allowed himself to be swayed by you, he probably wouldn’t mind this arrangement and would continue to do as told.

But it’s quite a headache, he has to admit. He knows a few of the leaders even live in mansions by the shore or expensive penthouses and can overlook their territory. He has none of those, and it’s apparent with every passing day how little his boss thinks of him and his squad.

I don’t even need a mansion… I need that villa near the gardens and the shops below.

That villa has been your dream for a long time. He can remember the first time you absentmindedly pointed it out to him, wistfully sighing as you admitted you wanted it.

“My dear grandfather was friends with the owner, so we’d visit sometimes. It’s the most beautiful house ever.”

Risotto hadn’t ever cared about houses or decorations much, but after a curious look around the place at night, he had to agree that it is a nice home. It would be a lovely place to call his own, but more than that, it would have you, and that immediately made everything better.

Would you be happy in that home? Would you like to walk beside him to the marketplace below? Would you enjoy sitting on the veranda with him while you two drank cappuccinos in the morning?

These questions and the many what-ifs he would conjure up plagued him like this every day. He didn’t feel the cold rain pour down on him continuously, only thinking of you smiling at him in your shared villa. It was sunny in that dream, warm and loving. He didn’t mind the terrible weather now, even with how it soaked his clothes and chilled his bones.

He exhales and lets the rain wash over him more before he decides to continue walking back to the hideout.

He couldn’t see you yet. Not yet… he wasn’t ready. He didn’t have the influence he wanted- needed- to offer you what you deserved.

The walk to his place is somber and silent as Napoli is sheltered inside warm houses from the rain. He curses himself for encouraging you to stay away. The farther you are, the closer he wants you. The more he tells himself to stop, the more he wants to go. The more he tries to shield himself from these feelings, the more he falls deeper into these desires.

Just as he is about to cross the street, he glances to your house. It’s right there, a mere block from his hideout. So close, yet so far. He stops in front of your door, unsure if he should take the risk or make such a jump.

He’s torn, torn between protecting you from his lifestyle and keeping you bound to him as his love.

He aches for you, desires you, needs you. But he can’t say that without complicating everything. He swallows, ready to turn heel and continue to his home, to La Squadra and his dirty life.

Yet, for some reason, he finds himself stepping toward your door. It’s as if his body is on autopilot, forcing him, magnetizing him to you again. He sighs and makes a fist, rapping his knuckles against your door.

…Well… a few moments away from the rain is never a bad idea. Especially in Napoli, where life is beautiful all around.

#x reader #reader insert #jojo vento aureo #jojo x reader #jjba x reader #jjba imagines #risotto nero #risotto nero x reader

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mackjlee9 · 2 years ago

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Yami Sukehiro x Wanted!Criminal!Male!Reader [?]

Masterlist.

Black Clover

Requested by Christmas_Tree on AO3 (Archive of Our Own)

For months now had Julius given the same mission to the kingdom's orders, and none of them had been able to fulfill his order, not even Golden Dawn.

The mission was to capture this extremely dangerous and psychotic wanted criminal, and Julius finally gave in to inform the Black Bulls.

Now, in the meeting room of the castle, Julius and Marx were waiting for Yami to arrive, and a few minutes later, a portal appeared, Yami himself walked through it followed by Finral. The meeting was short and concise, Yami was given the mission to capture this criminal and given a picture to be able to identify him. Marx was specific about needing every member of the Black Bulls working on this and to capture him alive, the time limit was a month, less than half than the other orders had to find him.

Yami scoffed and grabbed the picture, looking down at it to see who this "dangerous and psychotic" criminal was. The guy was-

Yami had always been kinda proud of being able to maintain a poker face when surprised or overwhelmed, because that's exactly what he felt when he recognized the guy in the picture. He looked up at Julius and groaned an affirmative response, signaling Finral to open the portal again, and they soon left.

Back at their base, Yami sighed and glanced out the window, where he saw (M/n) sitting outside.

"Everyone!" His deep, booming voice caught the attention of everyone in the room, they stood up and gathered around Yami, or just stayed in their place, like Zora who didn't care much and didn't want to stand up, Nero standing close to him, "We got a mission, and it has a time limit, so listen up," Yami frowned and look at the picture in his hand, "There's a fugitive criminal that we have to capture in a month."

Luck seemed hyped about it, and so did Magma, Gauche wasn't as interested like most of the members, who were nonchalantly accepting the mission.

"Is that a picture of them, Yami?" Vanessa asked fixing her clothes that had gotten slightly wrinkled.

A unison gasp left everyone's mouth the moment Yami showed them the picture, followed by Asta screeching and about to run to the window, only to be stopped by Yami. All of them approached the window slowly and quietly, looking outside.

The picture was of a younger (M/n), who was definitely a teenager back then, but it was him, no doubt. And there he was. Sitting right outside their base, playing and talking to animals, his grimoire open and glowing as he used a spell to be able to understand them.

"Them. Looking. Window," One of the squirrels said, making (M/n) look over his shoulder.

There standing in front of the wide window were all the members of the Black Bulls, observing him as if he was an exotic animal, (M/n) just smiled and waved happily at them, yelling a cheerful "Hello~!"

Yeah, he was too nice to be a "dangerous and psychotic" criminal, there had to be an explanation.

///////

It was dinner time, and like usual, Charmy was cooking while Asta engulfed everything in sight, well, usually it would be like that, but everyone was quiet, wondering what the reason could be. And Zora was fed up with the silence that seemed to be piercing his ears.

He stood up from the dining table and headed outside, where (M/n) had his own plate of food brought over by the wild cats around him, who were eating along with him, gently grabbing the food with their teeth whenever he handed it over to them.

"Hey," Zora's voice slightly startled (M/n), who turned around to look at him with a nervous smile.

"Hi, Zora, do you need something-?"

"Why are you a wanted criminal?" Well, that was a direct question. (M/n) sighed and looked down at his plate, hearing footsteps behind them, and looking at the chinchillas perk up from their hiding spot by the hollow rocks, he knew everyone had walked outside.

(M/n) remained silent for a few moments, before taking a deep breath, "Yami," the black-haired male approached him and stood next to him, "Can we talk in private?"

Yami looked at (M/n) in the eyes and decided he will, quietly signaling the rest to go back inside. Once they were left alone, Yami sat next to him and they stayed silent for a while.

"So? You gonna explain?" (M/n) kept his head down, reaching his hand out to pet the wild cat sitting by his feet, and he sighed.

"It's all made up," Yami remained silent, but his eyebrow raised, awaiting any other thing the male might say, "Julius made that up, 'cause he wants me..." Taking a deep breath, (M/n) rubbed his face in distress, "To come back."

(M/n) continued to explain to Yami what had happened years ago and how this whole thing started, and Yami just listened in silence. And eventually, they made a deal. (M/n) accepted to be taken back to the castle, not caring how Julius would react upon seeing him back.

After hours and hours went past, Yami took (M/n) back to the castle, Finral accompanying them with his portals, while everyone said bye to (M/n) one last time. He even had to hug Asta and dry his tears 'cause the silver-haired male didn't want him to leave, he grew attached to the (h/c) haired male, especially after all the training they did together since the day they met.

With a gentle smile, (M/n) followed Yami through the portal as quickly as he could, not wanting to put a strain on Finral, and soon, the three of them were in the castle's meeting room, where Julius and Marx had been discussing personal matters.

"Julius," Yami called him, catching their attention, and the two of them looked toward the Black Bulls members.

King Julius was about to say something, when a familiar face walked through the portal, standing next to Yami, "(M/n)..."

Clenching his fists and swallowing, (M/n) made eye contact with the blond, "Br-"

His voice was cut off by the crushing hug Julius gave him, dramatically crying out his name and much he missed him.

"My little brother is back!" With an even more surprised expression than before, Marx gasped loudly.

"Brother?!" Yami sighed and stared into Julius' eyes, who was tearing up like the childish king he is.

"You're not keeping him," everyone in the room looked at Yami as he spoke, shocked by the serious tone of his voice, "I brought him over this once, but he's not staying here, Julius."

The King released a chuckle when the shock passed and he kept an arm wrapped around (M/n)'s shoulders.

"As long as you let him visit, then I don't mind," leaning his head on (M/n)'s he smiled brightly, "I'm just happy to know he's okay," (M/n) sighed and tried to free himself.

"Can I go now?" He asked with a monotonous tone, and Julius only laughed louder.

"Only after you have dinner with us, of course!"

Extended ending

"Your brother, sir?" Marx asked once their guests had left, and Julius only kept swaying his body side to side, a happy smile plastered on his face, a subtle blush coloring his cheeks.

"Yeah~!" That was all he said and Marx couldn't help but sigh as he realized that he now had to inform all the orders about (M/n) no longer being a threat.

++++

| Buy me a Ko-fi~? |

#yami sukehiro #black clover #one shot #yami sukehiro x reader #yami sukehiro x male reader #black clover x reader #black clover x male reader #male reader #reader insert #x reader #.mackjlee9 writes

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icycoldninja · 1 year ago

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OKAY-!

So I've been wanting to request something for a hot minute from y’all; Vergil (or Nero..? Idk if you do stuff for him tbh) having to warm-up with a Male reader during a blizzard???

(👉👈 Never done a request before so idk how much to put. I love your work and can't wait to read more from you (/p)!)

AAAAAA I KNOW U, U ALWAYS REBLOG MY WORKS WITH THOSE HILARIOUS TAGS! I've also read your stuff on ao3! I love your works too! I'm so glad you requested! I chose to do Vergil cause I like writing for him more than Nero lol; hope you enjoy!💜💜💜

Warm-Up (Vergil x Male!Reader)

Bonus pic I pulled off Pinterest for ya cuz y'all deserve it 💜

You shivered in your seat, goosebumps breaking out across your skin. A blizzard raged on outside, rattling the walls of your house and, via several drafts in said walls, lowered the overall temperature to lows your poor human body couldn't handle. You continued shuddering, wrapping your arms around yourself in an attempt to keep warm, futile as it was. You were just so cold, for an indescribable reason, no matter how many layers of clothes you threw on or how many blankets you piled on, you were freezing. It was like you were cursed, cursed to be eternally chilly.

The front door clicked, then swung open; Vergil stomped in, covered in snow. "Y/N?" He called, peeking around the corner and finding you curled up on the couch, swaddled in blankets and thick clothes. "What is going on?" He demanded, raising a thin white eyebrow at you. "I'm cold." You grumbled, tugging the blankets tighter around you as another strong wind shook the house and chilled the room even further. "Cold?" Vergil repeated, confused. He had never felt cold in his life, being an ice demon and whatnot. Nonchalantly, he stalked away to remove the snow from his person and change into dry clothes. A few moments later, he rejoined you in the living room, only to find a pile of blankets where you once had been seated. "Y/N? Where did you go?" A hand--your hand--shot up from within the mountain of bedclothes. "Right here, Verg. Right here, freezing my ass off." Vergil sighed, then began shifting the blankets aside to get to your trembling, nearly numb-with-cold form. "You lack motivation," He stated, shoving the blankets aside, then taking a seat on the couch and rearranging them in his lap. "A mere bit of cold is nothing; such a trivial inconvenience should mean nothing to you." While those words may have sounded harsh and derogatory, they were in fact, meant to be motivating--and they were.

"I...I guess you're right," You admitted, sighing and sitting up. "it shouldn't bother me, but it does." Vergil scoffed, then dragged you by the arm over into his lap. With a grumpy huff that was probably caused by embarrassment for his uncharacteristically soft behavior today, he began to wrap you up like a burrito. Once he was done, he scooped you up and cradled you in his arms like a mother with her baby.

You were confused at first, but soon relaxed into your new blanket cocoon. "Are you warm now?" Vergil asked, after a few moments of silence. Believe it or not, you were. The cocoon, combined with Vergil's furnace-like body heat, did wonders for your own body temperature, warming you up much more efficiently compared to all the other methods you previously tried. "Yes, I am," You murmured, rather enjoying this treatment. "Good. I suppose I can unwrap you now, correct?" You shrugged, not really wanting to leave Vergil's lap. "If you don't mind....a little longer?" Vergil gave you a side-eye that could have withered flowers, but said nothing and made no attempt to move you. You yawned, now that you'd been warmed up, you were starting to feel a little sleepy. "Tired?" He inquired, bouncing his leg so as to rock you easier. "Yeah, a little," You sighed, yawning again. "I'm gonna take a nap...wake me in a few hours, ok?" Vergĺil nodded, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. "Very well." As you closed your eyes and began to drift off to sleep, you could have sworn you heard him mumble "Sweet dreams, my little lump of coverlets."

#fluff #Dmc #vergil dmc #Vergil sparda #vergil x reader #Dmc5 #Dmc 5 fluff #devil may cry #Devil may cry 5 #vergil devil may cry #Vergil x male reader #Fanfic #dmc fanfic #thanks for requesting #requested #icycoldninja writes

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chronicallyonline101 · 5 months ago

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╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

MY INTRODUCTION

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯ About me:

✯ Abigail/Abby, (any prns; Ŵ/Ei neu Hw/Ei)

✯ 18 y/o

✯ I'm Welsh 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿

✯ This is my fandom blog! I'm currently interested in JoJo's Bizarre adventure, more specifically La Squadra Di Esecuzioni and Dio - I love analysing and giving headcannons to characters so please excuse me and my ramblings.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯ Inbox:

✯ My inbox is currently open!

✯ I will mostly write for JJBA on Ao3 atm, so I may be a bit slow in answering, however I will write reader-inserts, self-indulgent stuff, ships and the like!

✯ If you request NSFW it will be posted to my Ao3 rather than my Tumblr, as I would prefer to keep it there rather than here apologies :(

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯ Interests:

✯ My current hyperfixation is JJBA!

✯ I'm kind of a mixed bag, my favourite part is P6 nd I'm a Jolyne fangirl 4 life, but my favourite characters right now are the entirety of La Squadra!

✯ I'll write for most JoJo's characters, but ESPECIALLY Dio, Jonathan, Jolyne, Ermes, F.F., Weather Report, Rohan, Kira/Kosaku, Bruno, Abbacchio and La Squadra!

My masterlist is here!

If you want to support me please consider Buying me a Coffee! And maybe leaving a tip! it would help me a lot! :)

thank you for reading. here, have this picture of Risotto sleeping peacefully.

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that-gay-guy-from-hell · 2 years ago

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Fear of the Devil: Nero x G/N Reader

Summary: It always was the same nightmare. Spurred on by your inherently inferior humanity when compared to your hunting partner’s two halves. This fear consumed your mind every night and he’d always come to comfort you; so why are you still afraid of him?

Takes place in the time between the end of DMC 5 and the twin’s return from Hell. Nero and you live at DMC during this time to keep an eye on the shop and whatnot. When talking about his “Devil Bringer” I am talking about the DMC 5 version; the DMC 4 version is highkey ugly as fuck ngl. I also understand that you wouldn’t be able to get over something like this as quickly as you do; and as easily… Just let me have this lmaooo Fun fact: “Without You” is my longest (current) story at roughly 7845 words, this is my second longest at around 6645 (give or take due to editing) 🧸💞🧸 Y’all know the drill by now; You use this; https://devilmaycry.fandom.com/wiki/Revenant And this: https://devilmaycry.fandom.com/wiki/Agni_%26_Rudra Oh! You also have a pocket knife ;) 💞🧸💞 G/N reader x Soft Nero. Un-established relationship. Nero and you have known each other since you were kids and lived together in Fortuna. Violence is used against the reader; minor blood warning--universe typical violence. Dirty jokes and thoughts from both of you Fluffy comfort.

“Ha!” you shoved Nero’s shoulder playfully, “I win again.”

“Tch. Whatever,” the young hunter sauntered to the dartboard and pulled out the darts. This was the third round of 301 that you’d won against the teal devil; despite him boasting about having a "perfect" aim.

You stretched and cracked your back, “Think I’m gonna turn in for the night--if that’s alright.”

Nero walked over to the desk and put the darts away in the top drawer, “Yeah, probably a good idea--we’ve got an early morning.”

“Yeah, don’t remind me,” you sighed.

The coffee table made a loud scraping sound as you pulled it away from its spot. Then you moved to pull out the couch; revealing the bed you’d been using for the past few months.

“Hey…” Nero leaned his ass against the edge of the desk (totally not checking you out) and stared with a raised brow, “You sure you’re gonna be fine tonight? You can stay upstairs with me if you want.”

A part of you wanted to accept his offer, however, you shook your head ‘no’, “I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me.”

Nero’s lips turned to a thin line and he squinted at you, signifying he didn’t believe you. Over the past few weeks, you had woken him up almost every night by screaming bloody murder. Hell, some nights you’d wake up screaming several times. He’d never force you to talk about it; but, he was as concerned as he was curious about what nightmares plagued your mind. All he knew was that you were beyond terrified from how loud your heart was and the overwhelmingly intense smell of fear. Despite all this, you’d always refuse his offers of staying with him. He’d stay downstairs till you’d tell him to go back to his room.

Noticing his stare, you raised a brow, “What?”

The teal devil crossed his arms, “Would it help if I stayed down here? I don’t mind, you know.”

You shook your head, “I’m alright, thanks though.”

He stood upwards and pursed his lips as he sighed through his nose, “Fine, I’m leaving my door open just in case--don't hesitate if you need me, yeah?”

A small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth and you nodded, “Okay.”

He hesitated for a moment before deciding to saunter to the stairs, “Good night, hot stuff,” he winked and smiled.

You laughed and tried to ignore the small butterflies that had formed in your stomach, “Night, handsome.”

Nero smiled widely as a light pink blush dusted his features. The stairs creaked slightly as he went up them and to his room. Leaving you to your own devices.

You went over to the light switch, flipping the lights off. The shop was almost eerie when it was this dark and quiet. So, in an attempt to combat this, you turned on some soft music on your phone. The pull-out couch squeaked as you curled up on it. You hadn’t even fallen asleep yet and you already felt a coil of fear begin to form. A small amount of envy pricked at the edges of your mind at how Nero doesn’t have to sleep as often as you; even though he typically does. If you could have it your way, you’d never sleep again.

A heavy sigh left your lips as you inevitably drifted to sleep.

===

The two of you stood back to back; surrounded by a group of miscellaneous demons. Despite the aching of your battered body, you were smiling widely.

“Best of Three?” Nero held up Blue Rose and had a smile that matched your own.

“You’re so on,” in your hands you held your own firearm, Revenant.

With that, the two of you split apart.

Nero emptied the barrel of Blue Rose and then pulled out Red Queen. In a vain attempt at winning, he began to use his wings to pull demons from your sightline.

“Hey!” you glared at him, “That’s so cheating.”

He laughed, “Says the one who stole from me last time.”

Without your attention leaving Nero, you outstretched your arm backwards and killed a Hell Antenora with a single shot. You rolled your eyes, “Bullshit, I had to help you since you were buried neck-deep in demons.”

“I knew what I was doing!” Nero jested.

The both of you laughed as you turned your back to take care of a few scattered Hellbats.

“I think I’m owed a--” you turned around to face him; however he was gone, “Nero?”

Feeling a slight breeze on your neck, you turned around but saw nothing.

“Okay very funny,” you crossed your arms, “You can knock it off now.”

Still nothing.

Your eyes scanned the area around you. It’s strange, you feel like something changed but couldn’t place your finger on it. There was no noise, no movement, no more wind--hell, there wasn't even any scent in the air. It was completely barren.

Confused and slightly alarmed, you continued forward down the road. A feeling of being watched crept around the edge of your mind as you picked up your pace to a light jog.

“Nero!” you began to call out, hoping for some sort of response, “This isn’t funny. Come on Nero.”

As you pressed onwards, you swore that you were going in circles; which wasn’t possible, since you'd only been going straight forwards. All the while, you called out intermittently for your hunting partner and began to fear the worst.

After what seemed like a lifetime, you came upon a new area. You slowly stalked forwards into the open lot, Revenant in hand. A quick movement in the corner of your eye caught your attention; however, before you could get a shot off, you were swept off your legs by someone else’s.

Now sitting on the ground, you glanced around for the culprit. Your mind was racing as you frantically looked around unable to spot anyone. Upon returning to your feet, you saw something once more. This time, you were knocked forward. Revenant went flying outwards and your twin scimitars--Agni and Rudra--had been pulled from your back; leaving you defenseless. With a groan and grimace, you pushed yourself up onto your feet. You spit a wad of bloody saliva from your mouth and wiped your bloody (and broken) nose.

Panic set in as you saw the movement for a third time, you decided to shoulder-roll sideways and managed to dodge the attacker. Once out of your roll and back upright, you finally got a glimpse at your attacker.

“Nero?” a pit began to form in your stomach.

His stare was soulless and cold as he turned to you. Something was off about him, but you couldn’t place your finger on it.

You began to cautiously approach him, “What the fuck was that for? I was just fuckin’ with you earlier you didn’t have to--”

The young hunter lunged at you and tackled you to the ground, only making animalistic growling in response. His hand gripped around your neck; which was notably his Devil Bringer.

“Fuck-” you grabbed his forearm and feebly attempted to pull him off of you, “Nero!”

Nero’s grip only tightened. Seeing no other choice, you squirmed as much as possible trying to break his tight choke. All the while, you dug for your pocket knife. Once you found it, you jammed it as far as you could into his ribs which made him release you.

Not wasting the chance, you kneed him in the crotch and shoved him off of you; leaving your knife behind. You stood back up and got ready to fight; putting your hands up. He looked down at the small blade and pulled it from his body, not flinching in the slightest. A twitch of his lip pulled up one side of his mouth into a smirk; which was usually comforting, but all it did was make you go pale.

He pocketed the blade and reached upward to retrieve Red Queen from his back. Without breaking eye contact with you, he thrust the blade into the ground in front of him.

Challenging you.

Your heart was pounding as the two of you began to circle one another. Nero had never asked you to fight like this and that doesn’t even include the evident intent to harm you.

“Nero,” your voice was loud but still quivered with an incomprehensible fear, “You don’t have to do this…”

All you got in response was a lip-twitch and snarl. Your heart skipped a beat as you barely dodged his pounce forward. He continued to try and grab you as you played defense; what else were you supposed to do?

That’s when you got an idea; maybe he put Red Queen there not as a declaration of his challenge, but rather, to taunt you. You and your weak human existence. Nero knew that you were at a disadvantage, so he put his prized weapon there to give you a chance… or maybe you were grasping at straws. Regardless, it was quite difficult for you to wield such a heavy blade so it wasn't the best plan… but it was the only thing you could come up with.

You slowly moved the fight towards the center of the lot; moving you closer to your only chance of winning. After he lunged again, you moved to pull Queen from its resting spot. Surprisingly, you managed to pull it out with ease, however, Nero was right back on you. Without thinking you moved the blade in a large sweeping motion; spinning on your heels for momentum.

The hunter went flying. You winced as he hit the ground causing dirt to fly up into the air. You looked down at Red Queen's blade, it had been spattered with his blood. With great effort, you held the specialized durandal with both hands in front of you; unsure of how to properly use such a cumbersome weapon.

With wide eyes and a hard swallow, your blood ran cold upon seeing Nero stand. The slash along his middle had healed and he looked pissed. In an instant, Nero was in his triggered form.

His voice was warped and filled with cold anger, one you’d never seen nor heard from your partner.

You swung the blade as he sprinted at you, however, his wings caught the edge before the strike landed. The teal devil grappled your forearms and, as he stared you dead in the eyes, crushed the bones in your arms.

You screamed and unwillingly released Red Queen; giving Nero the blade. With a stumble back, you grimaced as tears pricked at your eyes. If you hadn't been through as many fights as you have, you definitely would have passed out. Thankfully your adrenaline from being in fight-or-flight kept you upright as you stood with a slight crouch; even if you couldn't fight. You were unable to feel your hands as you jumped back out of the swing from Red Queen.

However, that quickly changed when he used one of his wings to grab your arm. With all his strength he yanked your arm harshly against your backward movement and pulled it out of its socket.

“Fuck-!" your voice cracked as you yelled.

Nero charged you again, not letting up. The two of you continued this for a few swings before he grabbed your leg. It wasn’t clear if it was intentional or not, but Nero sloppily threw you off to the side into a nearby building. The bricks cracked from the sudden impact of your body. Blood flew from your mouth as you felt everything inside you lurch and contort in ways it shouldn’t.

You landed on your side with your back to the building, leaving you to face and watch Nero. Each one of his steps made your body panic, doing everything you could to try and move. Ignoring the screaming pain of your body, you desperately clawed at the ground to move but it was hopeless. He stopped only a few feet from you.

Using his wings, he picked up from the ground; making you shout in sheer anguish. You were held in front of him as if you were nothing but a piece of meat being examined. His eyes were sharp as they locked with yours and you began to cry; unable to recognize your childhood friend through that goldenrod stare.

Without a second thought, Nero plunged Red Queen through your middle and pinned you into the building behind you. Your mind went blank as you felt the searing blade slice through everything inside you.

“Pathetic,” Nero’s eyes never left yours as he twist the blade and handle; adding to your pain.

Through your screams you heard something, someone, calling out to you.

===

The next thing you knew you were awake. Your head was spinning as you jolted upwards and violently grabbed whatever was in front of you… Which ended up being Nero’s neck.

“Hey--!” Nero grabbed your forearm, trying to make you release your death grip.

Which worked, kind of… you shoved him back and made him land flat on the floor. You then retreated as far back on the couch as you could, your mind still clouded in fear.

Nero groaned and stood up. He was in nothing but a shitty grey t-shirt and dark-sage-colored boxers with his hair an absolute mess. Without thinking, he piped up using his normally abrasive tone, “What was that--” his eyes met yours, “Hey…” you had a deer-in-headlights stare and were shaking. Nero’s voice slowly became softer with each word, “Hey, everything’s alright,” he got back onto the mattress and slowly eased his way towards you, “You’re okay.”

You shook your head and tried to move further into the couch as Nero reached his hand outward. His voice was barely over a whisper, “Easy, easy-- I’m not going to hurt you,” his hand gently brushed your leg.

You kicked at his hand and reached for anything you could; anything to defend yourself. Right behind you, in the corner of the room, were shelves with random items scattered on them.

Nero noticed you grab one of those items; which happened to be a half-empty bottle of beer, and ducked as you threw it at him. Seeing him dodge your pitiful attempt at self-defense made you crawl further up on the couch. Now you were sitting on top of the arm and back. Your eyes were dilated and your heart was pounding as you watched him sit up.

“Whoa-- okay relax,” Nero put his hands up with the palms facing you, “I’m not attacking you. You're safe. I'm not going to hurt you…”

The two of you sat in a standoff for what felt like an eternity--in reality, it was only a few minutes. The young man kept his hands where you could see them and didn’t move a muscle; only continuing to stare you in the eyes.

Tonight was the first time you’d reacted this violently to being woken up. Nero had never seen you this terrified before; no matter what hellish things you'd seen and been through. Seeing you have such an intense response made him want to comfort you; to help you.

Eventually, you spoke, voice scarcely audible, “N-Nero?"

“It’s me,” his gaze softened slightly, “You okay?”

You gave a small nod and looked away from him. Slowly you slid back down to sit on the couch, resting your body on the back cushions of the pleather couch.

Without skipping a beat, Nero moved to sit next to you. Your shoulders gently brushed together as you sat side-by-side. Another few minutes passed without either of you speaking.

“I think I’m gonna stay down here tonight,” Nero looked over at you, “I don’t know what is scaring you so much, but,” he looked down at your hand, wanting nothing more than to hold it, “I want to help.”

“You don’t have to, Nero; I’ll be okay,” you mumbled.

“That’s what you said earlier, only for you to start screaming barely an hour after I left you,” Nero cautiously reached for your hand.

Seeing his hand near your forearm, you flinched and yanked your arms away. With raised shoulders, you turned away from him, “No--!" your voice was laced with a tremendous amount of fear.

He gently grabbed your shoulder, “What’s going on… Did I do something--”

Your body lurched forwards, pulling you away from his touch. Quietly you whimpered, “Don't...”

“What-” Nero scrunched his face with his lips parted slightly in thought. He slid to sit in front of you, resting on his knees. The concerned hunter grabbed both your hands tightly, not allowing you to pull them away, “What is going on?”

“Please,” tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you tried to pull away. Pulling your shoulders and legs as close to you as you could, you let out a half-choked sob, “I'm sorry.”

“This have to do with your nightmares?” Nero saw you flick your eyes up to his for a moment before you looked away again, “It does, doesn’t it?”

Your body shook as you began to cry and finally pulled your hands from his, saying nothing.

Nero leaned his weight back and rested his hips on his heels. A heavy sigh left his lips as he thought about what to do; about what this meant. That’s when it clicked.

“Your nightmares are about me; aren’t they?”

The glance upwards from you cut through Nero's soul; you were telling him yes without even needing to speak.

His expression fell as he realized the gravity of the situation. How could he comfort you if he was the reason for this in the first place?

“Could-” Nero’s voice was quiet, “you tell me about it?” he gently reached out and touched your leg with his fingers, “Please?”

You looked up at him, tears still sliding down your cheeks. No response.

Nero sighed and moved to sit back next to you, “I want to help you, but I can’t if you don’t tell me how.”

A few minutes passed of you sitting with him. The only sound in the DMC was the gentle piano music from your cellphone. If he wasn’t able to hear your heart, he would’ve figured you were telling him to fuck off; however, Nero noticed your heart rate was slowly returning to normal. Your legs had gradually relaxed in a crisscrossed position and your hands were in your lap; opening yourself back up to the world.

With a voice low and rough, you finally spoke up, “You sure you want to know?”

Nero looked over at you and met your bloodshot eyes with a nod, “Yeah, I’m sure."

“It’s always the same and,” you looked down at your hands as if they were suddenly the most interesting thing in the world, “it’s about you and me…”

Nero’s brow was furrowed sadly as he watched you struggle with your words.

“We are doing a normal job, but you disappear. I can’t find you for a long time and then I…” you swallowed hard, fighting back another wave of tears, “I get attacked by… you .”

Your partner turned to face you fully, a pit slowly forming in his stomach.

“You disarm me and then…” you looked at him for a brief moment, his eyes were filled with a sad expression as he hung on every word you said. You turned back to stare at your hands, “then I approach you, but something’s… something’s wrong.”

You shook your head, “You have your Devil Bringer still and don’t acknowledge me. Once I get up to you,” a shiver ran through your body, “you try to choke me out, but I stab you and…” your pulse and words quickened, “and we fight. I get Queen and hit you with it. But… but you…”

Nero noticed your sudden and alarming increase of fear, “Hey, you don’t have to continue if--”

“No,” you looked at him tears once more in your eyes, “I can do this.”

He nodded, allowing you to continue.

You cleared your throat and looked away from him, “You trigger and I can’t stop you. I tried to use Queen but you stopped it and…” you let out a shuddering breath, “you broke both my arms.”

Nero’s posture stiffened, “ What? ”

“I try to fight, but you toss me around and dislocate one of my shoulders.”

The young man’s face continued to become more distressed as he heard you continue.

“It gets blurry from here… I hit a wall at some point and everything just,” you shook your head, “breaks… but you aren’t done…” you unconsciously held your middle as your voice slowly became softer, “You impale me with Red Queen and pin me up on the wall… Calling me pathetic. I usually wake up after that…"

The room fell silent. Neither of you spoke as the air slowly became thicker with dread. Nero’s mind was racing. He's never hurt you, not once. The boy's overly stubborn about sparring with you because of his fear of doing just that. He expected your nightmare to be something less violent; maybe some harsh words or fear of being abandoned (similar to ones he has had), but this… this was more than he could’ve imagined.

The two of you had known each other since you were young. You grew up together. Played together. Fought together. After Nero was hurt and lost his human arm, you were right by his side. Despite his resistance, you sparred with him and helped him learn about his Devil Bringer--even if neither of you knew what it truly was capable of. It made his gut wrench in frustration. Here you are, afraid of him. Needing his help and he doesn't even know how to.

You looked over at him. Nero’s face had hardened into a pissed-off scrunch and you spoke with a barely audible voice, “Sorry… I said too much…”

His eyes widened as your voice pulled him out of his thoughts, “Hey, don't apologize," he noticed your hand on his knee and cautiously grabbed it, fearing you'd pull away again, "It's not your fault…”

The feeling of his calloused warm palm against your icy hand was a small comfort. You leaned against his shoulder, letting out a shuddered breath, “I just don’t know why this…” your voice trailed off.

In Nero’s mind, he was replaying the past few months and was trying his best to pinpoint why this would’ve started. That’s when he realized what unintentionally started this avalanche of twisted dreams.

A few months ago the two of you had been on a job together; which was nothing special, just destroying a demon nest. However, you were pretty concussed and having a hard time staying upright; relying on Nero to help you move forward. The two of you got into a bit of a tough spot when making your way back to the van. A group of Scudo and Proto Angelos cut off your exit. Knowing you weren’t able to fight, Nero leaned you against a nearby wall and told you to stay there.

The young hunter was doing fairly well against the small pack. Right up until he heard you shoot Revenant. Immediately he pivoted around and saw that you were being attacked by a stray Scudo Angelo. In an attempt to defend yourself, you put your forearms up as the Scudo Angelo bashed you with its shield. This landed you on your ass; which was bad since you were unable to properly stand back up unassisted. He saw that both your arms already had started to bruise and you were looking around, more confused than before.

Nero lost his cool and triggered. With a quick lunge, he tackled the Scudo Angelo to the ground. His hands were wrapped around the demon’s neck and he doesn’t remember much; although he knows he said some very aggressive words and strangled it to death.

After the demon was dead, he moved back to the few that remained and wiped the floor with them. This had been the first time you saw his triggered form and, from the look you gave him, it wasn’t a welcomed experience. He hasn’t used it around you since.

“Can I ask you something?” Nero leaned his cheek against the top of your head.

“Sure,” you had laced your fingers with his and were rubbing your thumb against his hand.

“Are you afraid of my trigger?” his tone was almost sad

You waited a moment before responding, “What makes you say that?”

“This all started shortly after you banged your head really hard on that one mission… which you also saw my triggered form for the first time,” Nero sat with bated breath.

Giving it some thought, certain things about the nightmare started to make sense. All you could do was nod in affirmation; knowing that it was a stupid thing to be afraid of.

The two of you sat for another few minutes as Nero mulled over ideas in his head on how to make this better. Before he moved to get up from the couch.

Once fully standing, he looked over to you, “I’ll be right back,” and disappeared up the stairs.

You moved to sit on the edge of the couch, letting your feet hit the floor. The music on your phone had begun to annoy you, so you grabbed it and turned it off. “Great…” you mumbled, reading the time on your phone: 2:33 AM. Nero and you were supposed to be leaving for a job in only a few hours.

“Here,” you turned to see that Nero had come back downstairs.

“...what..?” you were confused, to say the least. In his outstretched hand was Blue Rose.

“Well,” he smiled, “I think I know how to solve your nightmares.”

“By what? Shooting you?” you asked sarcastically with a raised brow, grabbing the revolver.

“Kinda, but only if you feel you have to,” Nero moved to the other side of the room.

“Nero--” you shook your head, “I am not shooting you.”

“If it's any better, they aren’t real bullets,” he shrugged, “figured holy water capsules should work, right?”

“You still have some? Damn,” you opened the chamber and, sure as shit, there were slugs filled with holy water, “Thought that you used them all?”

Your partner laughed, “Yeah, I have them in case of emergency.”

“Which this is?”

Nero answered without skipping a beat, “Yes it is.”

“Alright,” you stood up and faced him, “What’s the plan?”

“Sit back down, yeah?” with pursed lips you sat back down on the edge of the bed, “I figured …” Nero hesitated, “that if you see me triggered,” he sighed and ran his hand through his hair, “then maybe the nightmares will stop.”

“That’s a horrible idea, Nero,” you pinched the bridge of your nose, “These bullets may as well be real then; you’ve seen what they do to demons.”

“I’ll be fine, plus,” he smiled warmly at you, “I don’t think you’ll need them.”

You shook your head, “I think that this is a bad idea… but,” you flicked Blue Rose closed, “if you’re fine with it then I trust you.”

“Thanks, babe,” Nero winked at you making you roll your eyes and smile.

The room lit up a bright blue from Nero’s trigger. Your heart had picked up several paces and it took everything in you not to keep your finger on the trigger of the revolver. The teal demon stood only a dozen or so feet from you and had his goldenrod eyes trained on you.

Involuntarily, you had begun to tremble as your body replayed the several weeks’ worth of painful sleep. The two of you had locked into a stare. Upon doing so, you noticed that Nero’s eyes had begun to dilate slightly--reminding you of a cat. Your eyes broke from his as you began to scan over his body.

It was strange how Nero looks so different but still looks like himself. As much as you loved his short hair, it was nostalgic seeing him with longer locks--even if it was quadruple the length. Your lips twitched upward a bit as you thought about how you purposely learned to braid hair just to braid Nero’s. You found yourself wondering if it is as soft as his hair was before.

However, the moment Nero tried to move towards you, everything in you shot right back into a panicked state. He noticed and stopped his slow increments. A part of Nero wanted to speak and tell you that it was alright but figured that hearing his distorted voice would only make things worse.

After a moment of calming yourself down, you trailed your eyes down his arms and winced slightly at the sight. Although you already knew his Devil Bringer was essentially his triggered form's arm; you never got to look at the scaled skin and compare the two. Once more you found yourself thinking about your time on Fortuna together.

The first time you were alone with Nero after he lost his “real” arm, you spent nearly an hour just tracing the bright blue lines. It was soothing to you and Nero never understood why. He hated his arm for quite some time and was always apprehensive about you touching it. However, he never pushed you away or moved to stop you--maybe he liked it more than he cared to admit. You smiled and laughed to yourself at the thought.

While you were lost in good memories, Nero slowly moved forward and now stood only a few feet from you (you both were basically playing the world’s most tense game of “red light, green light”). The bright light thrown from his body snapped you out of your head and you tensed. You kept reminding yourself that it was Nero standing there and that he was still himself.

He stood still as you continued to look at him. With a slow panning sight, you wandered the faint lines of his pecs and watched his chest rise and fall. You wished that you were running your hands over him rather than your eyes.

Then you slid your gaze down his abs to the glowing highlights there, tracing them with your eyes. You remembered how soft the lines on his Devil Bringer were and wondered if the other lines were the same.

Your eyes then wandered to his hips and you froze. It hadn't hit you till now that Nero was practically naked right now. Butterflies formed in your stomach at the thought. Of course, you had seen his ass on accident more than once--even whistling at him a few times just to mess with him--but you'd never seen his front bits. A distant part of you wondered if Nero actually had a functional dick when in this form and if it was different than a human’s.

The teal devil had been watching you stare at his codpiece for some time, "Checking out the merchandise, huh?" Nero couldn't help but revel in calling you out, "Care for a sample~" even with the distortion, your heart skipped a beat at Nero saying such a thing.

Your face lit up bright red with embarrassment as you quickly sputtered in response, "I wasn't-- I just--"

“Uh-huh sure,” he laughed, “You know if that’s what I gotta do to help you--”

“Oh-- shut the fuck up--” you laughed and tried your best to play it cool.

Nero cocked his head to the side, “Still think I’m scary?”

You rolled your eyes, “You’re always scary, Nero.”

“Oh? Well then…” he smiled goofily and pounced onto you; not thinking about how this is the worst thing he could do right now.

In a panic, you raised your hands and defended yourself; completely forgetting about Blue Rose (thankfully). Along with your hands, you swung your feet upwards to push him. You grabbed his face with one hand and used the other to shove his chest. In the end, however, Nero was much heavier and larger in his triggered form so you couldn’t move him off of you.

Nero realized his mistake and stood upright, “Shit-- I didn’t-- I’m sorry,” as he stared his worry only grew worse.

Your face was pale and you had frozen in place; holding your hand upwards still. With a hard swallow and deep breath, you tried to relax, “Nero, what the fuck..?”

“I--” his goldenrod eyes were trained on your held-up palm as he slowly re-approached you.

“Nero?” you were confused and had a bad feeling start to grow once more in your gut; however, this was quickly replaced.

The teal demon kneeled in front of you and reached out to your outstretched hand. He held it in his hand with your palm up, “You're bleeding…”

You looked down and saw what he meant. On both edges of your hand were matching slices. At first, you were confused about what happened then you looked at Nero. The two spikes on his face had blood streaks along them: you must've nicked yourself when grabbing him.

You sighed, “Damn it… I’ll go take care--”

“Wait,” Nero placed his other hand on your leg, keeping you seated, “I’ve got it.”

“What--”

It was too late for you to question him; he had already moved to clean it. His tongue was hot as it ran along the sides of your hand. You wanted to be afraid of him, however, a pleasant chill ran up your spine. Seeing Nero kneeling before you and tending to your wounds; you couldn’t help but wander to tasteful thoughts.

“N-Nero,” you stammered, “st-stop.”

He flicked his eyes to yours and, without breaking eye contact, he took a long lick against your hand. You unconsciously bit your lip at the sight, making him smirk. It was strange seeing Nero with a split tongue; not to mention how well he seemed to be able to use it. You found a distant part of yourself thinking about what else he could do with his longer demonic tongue. After some time, the bleeding stopped.

The teal devil kissed both gashes and looked up at you with a warm smile, “There, all better.”

A breathy laugh is all you could muster in response.

“Regretting not accepting my offer, huh?” he stood up and had a raised brow.

“Hah,” despite your confident tone, your face was bright red with embarrassment, “You wish.”

He eyed you up and down, deciding his next move. Although his mouth was closed, you could see him playing with his tongue in thought. Combine that with his glazed-over stare, you squirmed at your perverse thoughts.

Nero’s eyes met yours as he leaned forwards, connecting his lips to your forehead, “It’s late, you should get some rest,” he stood back up and watched you begin to pout.

“I thought you said you’d stay with me?” you gave him the best puppy dog eyes that you could.

He opened his mouth slightly as if he were going to say something, but quickly closed them with a shake of his head. Without answering you, Nero moved closer. His hands sat on your hips as he picked you up.

A surprised squeak left your lips as you wrapped yourself around him--or at least the best you could. You noticed how warm he was and found that your eyes had begun to blink slower and slower. Nero carried you up to his room and gently laid you on his mattress.

Although you were laying back, you saw a bright blue flash of light come from your partner and moved to one side; allowing him to lay beside you. However, he didn’t join you.

“Where are you going?” you leaned up on your elbows and saw him on his phone.

“Hm?” he looked over at you, “Oh-- I was just telling Nico that we aren’t going to that job--at least not till later,” he jumped onto the mattress beside you, bouncing you a little.

With a bright smile, you chuckled at the ‘childish’ action of the young hunter, “You sure that--” you turned on your side to look at him and were met with him staring at you. A blush began to creep across your face once more as you stared back.

Nero and you have known each other for a long time, but you’d never gotten this close to his face; at least not for very long. Your lips parted slightly as you counted the plethora of colors within his irises. Those said sea-green eyes were flipping between your eyes and lips; waiting for a sign of acceptance or denial.

You pursed your lips as you noticed it, heart skipping a beat. A breath hitched in your throat as you copied his flickering sight. Nero moved closer to you, putting himself as close to you without touching you as he could. Without thinking, you moved closer and closed the gap between your bodies. He put one of his hands on your side, ghosting his fingers down it.

A sly smile adorned Nero’s face as he heard your trembling breath at his touch. It wasn't clear who moved in first, but the next thing you knew is that Nero’s lips were intertwined with yours. The kiss was slow and steady, kind and loving, sweet and innocent, completely pure. It didn’t last too long before you both broke it off, however, your faces stayed close together.

With a voice as soft as silk, Nero spoke, “You know,” he smiled and nuzzled his nose against yours, “I really wanted this.”

You sighed contently, “Me too.”

The two of you reconnected lips. The young man pushed his lips harder into yours and moved his hand from your side to your face, cupping it. Admittedly, Nero wasn’t the best at kissing but he was trying. It made you smile as you both continued to give each other gentle pecks. You took your hand and knead his side.

Nero whispered in between kisses, “God,” his voice gave you goosebumps, “I love you,” he moved his hand down your body and grasped your hips.

He moved his kisses down your jawline, “I love you, too,” you felt his teeth gently graze your neck, “Nero..!”

A strangled moan left your lips as he bit down on your neck. Once he felt it was dark enough, he placed a gentle elongated kiss on it and whispered; quietly enough that you barely heard him, “mine...”

Before you could respond, he shoved you over and pinned you beneath him. You cocked your head slightly, “Am I now?”

He stared at you for a moment and smiled sheepishly, “I didn’t think you heard that…”

“It’s nice, you know?” you placed a hand on his arm, “To know that…” you laughed slightly, “that you want me that badly, Nero.”

The teal devil laid on top of you with his head on your chest, “More than I can explain.”

You ran your fingers through his hair and noticed something odd, “Nero?”

“Hm?” he rubbed his head against you.

“This is going to sound stupid but are-- are you purring? ” you felt overwhelmingly stupid asking him something like that; there’s no way that--

“Mhm,” the sound got louder and his voice got quieter with every word, “It’s cause I’m happy…”

“Oh--” you ran your hand down the side of his face, “It’s nice.”

“Yeah?” he looked up at you without moving his head from its spot, “It’s only for you, babe.”

However, you didn’t respond. Nero looked up fully at you and noticed you were already fast asleep. A large smile decorated his face as he set his head back down. Resting easy, knowing that whatever frightening devils you might face that he would be right there to protect you

===

I don't know why, but I really wanted some Nero fluff ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 🧸💞🧸 What is currently in the works: Valentine's Devil: Dante x Male Reader (hopefully will be done by 2/14/23) Phantoms of the Past: Vergil x Reader What do you Call Me?: Vergil x Male Reader Tainted Purity: Vergil x Reader Stubborn and Old: Vergil x Reader … Yes I know that there are a lot of Vergil stories… lmao 🧸💞🧸 Also, I have to ask: do y'all like fluff or smut more? I don't know what y'all would rather want; I personally don't mind either way.

Want to see more like this? Want to read my work quicker and several stories that are not on Tumblr? Check this out on my AO3 (Linked here)

MASTER LIST FOR TUMBLR

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onyxrosess · 7 months ago

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Pain is My Hometown

vergil x reader [multi-chapter series]

Chapter IV: It's Too Late for Me Now

Chapter I | Chapter II | Chapter III | Chapter IV [you're here!] | Table of Contents

・warnings/tags: n/a

( cross-posted on ao3 )

Swinging the sheets off your body in an attempt to freeze yourself into waking up, mostly it worked. Dante’s bed was nicer than anticipated, likely due to him sleeping in his chair 90% of the time instead of the bed he owned. Regardless of how many times you’ve ‘accidentally’ spent the night at the shop, you never kept any clothes here, meaning you’d have to drive back to Fortuna to change clothes. Besides the heavy sigh that left your mouth, it was quiet and it wasn’t taken for granted, Kyrie’s and Nero’s house can get a little noisy unless it's 5 in the morning. Shuffling to the bathroom connected to Dante’s room, you addressed whatever was happening with your hair., scavenging for a brush to maybe tame the nest that was on your head.

After successfully making your hair look a little more presentable, you walked down the stairs, your eyes met with Dante leaning back in his chair, a magazine covering his eyes. You stepped around crunched up papers that littered the ground, standing next to Dante’s sleeping form. How does he not have back problems? Before you could give it much thought, you were reminded the man in front of you was not all man. Yet he acted with such ease that you wondered what happened to Vergil- why was he so…weird? You wished there was a nicer way to put it, but the things he’s done were of his own volition, no one else's. Your mind began to bubble up in anger once again, seething at your father. Heartless man.

“Well good morning, didn’t take you for a stalker.” The magazine that once covered Dante’s face was now slid down into his lap. His body remained motionless as he looked at you with a sly smile on his face. “I didn’t take you as a perv who stuffed his face in magazines all day.” Dante feigned hurt on his face, those puppy dog eyes don’t work. “Hey- you know I have bad luck with women.” “Is that what you tell yourself at night?” Dante playfully scoffs, shoving the paper back on the desk. His boots slid off the wooden surface, as you lifted yourself to sit on the desk. Silence took over the shop before it was quickly disrupted, “Y’know, I was thinking.” Oh god, Dante is thinking. You stifled a chuckle, trying to see what he was going to say before giving him shit. “Why didn’t you get into demon hunting with Nero?”

The thought never crossed your mind really, when Nero was younger he was a little too cocky for his good. Your little exposure to demons before…whatever the hell happened in Fortuna, led you to just avoid them entirely. It’s not like hell gates of that magnitude would ever open again, hopefully anyway. “That was Nero’s thing, plus I was recovering again.” You paused, letting out a breath before continuing, “And I’m just a regular human.” “Lady’s human and she does just fine.” Dante’s words became quieter, “Probably too well for her own good.” You couldn’t help but exhale a light laugh, Lady must have won their little bet the last time they were out. “Dante, you want me to believe Lady, who you’ve apparently known since you were 18 is the same age as you? She doesn’t look a day over 25- shit, I probably look older than her!” You did not want to point out your age, not that you were proud of the slowly appearing lines on your face, but at least you’ve lived. “Okay fine, I’m not sure if she’s fully human, her father was a nut job so I could only assume.” Dante crossed his arms over his chest, and for once he wasn’t wearing his red leather coat. The dark grey shirt rolled up at his elbows, the fabric fraying at the edges.

“Well, it seems like Lady and I have something in common.” Your attempt at a joke was met with a chuckle from Dante, he leaned forward in his seat, looking at a paper on his desk. He only skimmed over it before sighing, letting it fall back onto the desk. “What's that?” Dante looked at the paper again before closing his eyes in annoyance. “There’s a string of demon sightings, about 2 hours away from here. Likely a hell gate, which is beyond annoying.” You were puzzled, from what you knew, hell gates only appeared from human’s doings. “I thought those only popped up due to humans.” Dante shook his head at your question, “Nope, but if it’s a demon opening it, that means there's a big guy guarding it.” Dante’s vocabulary switched like he was talking to a child, you suppose it’s easier for you to understand but it made you chuckle at his choice of words. So the ones in Fortuna when you met Dante must have been the synthetic ones. You tried to remember how Dante explained it to you in the moment but you were so shaken up you thought you were on something the way he was talking.

“A ‘ big guy ’- am I twelve Dante?” “Well you sometimes act-” “Don’t answer that.” You looked at him with a stern expression that could only be held up for so long before your face softened again. The two of you continued to reminisce on old times, frankly, they weren’t that long ago, but everything happened so quickly that it feels so long ago. It was close to seven years of knowing Dante, but a couple of those were taken from you due to some of the otherworldly events. You would never admit to Dante that you thought he was handsome when you first met, but now, things seem different. Whether he’s getting older or you both are- you can’t seem to bring yourself to walk that path anymore. Your friendship with Dante is one you hold close, and threatening to burn that bridge with a silly crush that you had years ago seemed illogical.

You were reminded of Dante’s concern over his brother last night, and maybe you just wanted to add fuel to the fire that was hating Vergil’s guts, or you wanted to be right about him. Although you couldn’t help but ask, “Why did you ask about Vergil yesterday?” You prepared yourself for a response that would make you feel justified in your hatred, “Well, he’s not the most… friendly , and I guess his attempts could be seen as off-putting.” Dante really knows how to not tell you exactly what was going on but sure, he’s not the most friendly. It left you just to reply with a small hum, you’ll find out more soon. Even if you had to beat it out of Vergil.

After some complaining about recent jobs being too boring, must he always find something to complain about? Even when they accidentally put an olive on his pizza he could easily pick off he has to complain, as if he was legally bound to complain about it, every time. Dante later departed with a grunt, saying how much of a pain in the ass going two hours out is, even though he can fly there, for free. You reminded him that he should be grateful he doesn’t have to deal with traffic. He responded with a nonchalant, ‘Yeah, yeah.’ You also left the shop back to Fortuna soon after, a change of clothes and a shower is in order.

Arriving back home, the van Nico and Nero took last night for the job was parked in front of the house, a loud clank came from the garage followed by Nico cursing. Thankfully they aren't dead, you sighed as you walked towards Nico. “Howdy.” She greeted you, but her attention was elsewhere tinkering on a new arm for Nero- like he still needed those. “Hey, you staying out of trouble?” Nico playfully scoffed, “Never, you know me.” You smiled, “How did last night go?” Nico laughed before she could even give you an answer. “Nero got knocked around quite a bit, it made for the night's entertainment- he’s alright now he didn’t get hurt hurt, y’know?” Nico sputtered out her words after she told you Nero got injured, but her swift recovery followed. You brushed her off, Nero would be fine, he's an adult. No matter how many times you told yourself that you would always be worried when he got hurt. Nico continued on the mechanical arm as you excused yourself inside. Looking out the sliding door, the orphans splashed each other with water in an inflatable pool, you couldn’t help but smile. You had wished that was the life you had grown up with, but no jealousy filled you, just happiness that it was better for them.

Making your way to your room, you walked down the skinny hallway, about to pass Nero and Kyrie’s room when Nero appeared on the other side of the door. Nero looked as if he had the worst hangover and got beat to shit. Nero’s white hair was pointing in all different directions as scrapes and cuts littered his skin, but the gashes were already halfway healed from the looks of it. “Nico told me it went well” Sarcasm leaked from your voice, as you held in a laugh, Nero did look a little miserable but you knew he would be fine. “Yeah, it went great .” Nero matched your voice, you could tell he didn’t want to admit that he had difficulty beating up a demon. He leaned against the door frame as he rubbed the exhaustion out of his eyes. “What happened? Just too strong for you?” You jabbed him in the side lightly with your elbow. He barely moved, just rolled his eyes at you. “The fucker had these little…” He paused, searching for the words in his head, “Bugs, I don’t know, and they were everywhere and the more I killed them they doubled, it was so annoying.” “So you got beat up by bugs” “I never said that.” Nero gave you the look that he was trying to save his ego, you can only imagine Nico’s hysterics yesterday. “Well I’m glad you’re okay- you just look like you had a wild night.” A smile crept on your face as you watched Nero’s face heat up just the slightest bit. It left as quickly as it came as he shoved your shoulder, walking out of the doorway.

The day went on without too much drama, you accompanied Nico in her attempts to fix the radio in the van. You couldn’t help but chuckle every time she let out a string of curse words, like ‘fucknuts’ or ‘you mother shitter!’ Maybe it helped her focus. Scrubbing your body clean from grease, and washing your hair vigorously, it's the only way it stays clean. You stood in front of the mirror, analyzing your face, restraining yourself from picking anything and everything off of your skin. Glancing at the clock, it was only three in the afternoon, you really should socialize- outside of bars. That was enough convincing for you to go out, after getting dressed and ready to leave you picked open your wallet, you were a little richer than usual, weird. You dismissed it, putting the key into your ignition as you sped off into the road.

Fortuna was quite busy today, the sidewalks were a little busier than usual, some of the individuals carried bags with various shop logos on them, and others had street food in their hands before stuffing their faces. You cruised down a street with many varying restaurants and business fronts, one caught your eye, there were around 20 boxes full of records, and you desperately needed new music to listen to at work, Dante hadn’t gotten a new record for far too long. You stopped and parked your bike on the side of the street as you wandered into the store, the cashier greeted you as you reciprocated the gesture. Drawn to the records you flipped through them, seeing covers you recognized, and some you didn’t. You went through maybe two or three boxes before the roar of an engine brought your attention to the street, an old bike tore through the streets, and the red paint started to chip at the corners, which looked very similar to Dante’s bike he’s abandoned over the years. A short black-haired woman sat ontop of it- Lady. You quickly abandoned your post at the record boxes and went outside, Lady’s face did not wear her normal expression, she was far too focused than usual. She stopped the bike in its tracks once she recognized your face and your accompanying bike.

“What are you doing out here?” You questioned her as you walked closer to her. “There's another hell gate that popped up in Red Grave, I was out here doing work before I realized.” Lady’s skin carried a light sheen of sweat, and maybe a few stains from demon guts. You weren’t sure how to respond other than ‘Go get 'em’ tiger!’ but it worried you that Lady was even breaking a sweat over it. “They are so annoying!” Lady groaned, before starting her engine again, “It’ll be fine, (Name). Nothing I can’t handle, I’ll call you when I’m done.” “Y’know, Dante said the same thing about the one he was taking care of-” “There's another one?” You paused, you assumed she and Dante were on the same page or at least she knew about it, but Dante often didn’t think about telling people about his jobs unless someone was accompanying him or he was asked. “I mean, I’m not sure- Dante just mentioned that he had a job a couple hours out for a hell gate.” Lady let out another annoyed groan, “Okay well, thank you, I really gotta go.” You could barely respond before she drove away, you stood on the sidewalk, it had been a long time since you’d seen Lady even remotely worried about anything demon-related, and to be honest, you weren’t sure if she was concerned or annoyed. Your mind quickly wandered to Dante, if another hell gate popped up does that mean he got rid of the other one? Trying to soothe your worries by using the excuse that you have no idea about any of it, your knowledge of demons and hell was slim to none. Deciding to go home early, empty-handed. You weren’t gone longer than 30 minutes, your attempt to socialize was exceptionally short today. You pulled into the driveway, Nico seemed to be inside as the garage housed no life. Lifting your helmet off of your head, a faint crackling sound came from behind you, you turned around to see little sparks of blue seeming to form in the air. A deep blue smoke? What the fuck is that? The screen of smoke enlarged as a figure stepped out from it, a figure you recognised. One you wished you didn’t recognise, Vergil. His expression was plain as ever as you still sat on your bike, a little confused- a bit more than confused. He can just pop up anywhere, wherever he wants? You knew Dante could fly, and you weren’t sure why this came as a surprise to you. The door to inside Nero’s home opened as you followed the sound, Nero stepped down the stairs, walking towards you and Vergil.

“What’s going on? Nero, you should not be going out right now, you’re still-” “I’m fine, (Name).” Nero’s voice was laced with a string of seriousness, something you weren’t familiar with, at least directed towards you. Vergil stood where he had popped up from his portal, rather you’re assuming that’s what it was. “I’m requesting Nero come with me to take care of a hell gate, he should learn how to properly deal with them.” Vergil’s words teetered on the edge of a scolding, your brows furrowed together, he has no room to be scolding Nero. You held your tongue as Nero did the same. Your words did not come easily to you, this feeling you get when you’re around Vergil was not one you liked, you felt so little compared to him. Not just in stature but status, it was suffocating and you hated it. It felt all too close to the suffocating nature of your ex-boyfriends and their tactics to belittle you.

“...be careful, Nero.” Your voice came out just above a squeak, you despised it. As if it was not in your control to speak up. Nero nodded and Vergil unsheathed his sword, as the same crackling blue sparked from his sword. He slashed the air with the blade, his movements direct and controlled. An identical deep blue screen opened in front of him, he turned his head towards Nero, silently motioning to step into the portal with him. Nero did not say anything to you, but a glance. You could not get comfort from it, the whole interaction was ominous and frankly frustrating because you had no idea what just transpired. They were gone just like that, the portal closed right after Nero stepped in, with no evidence that neither of them was ever here. You pulled your bike into the garage, a little more aggressively than normal. You pulled the keys from their spot in your bike, rushing through the house to your room, luckily Kyrie and Nico were preoccupied and did not see you come in. You escaped to your room, shutting the door and flopping onto your mattress.

You had to remind yourself to breathe, as annoying and frustrating that you could do nothing or that you didn’t know the whole story is, nothing you could do at this moment could change anything. You exhaled, carding your fingers through your hair to get them out of your face. Ever since Dante planted the question of why you never picked up devil hunting, it made you ever so conscious of your helplessness, you were weak. If a demon tried to kill you, you could do nothing. The thought only made you more frustrated, but to bring yourself to do anything about that fact was something you could decide later. Your body laid still, as your eyes stared into the ceiling of the room, and your thoughts spiralled in your mind. If there was an award for overthinking, you would have first place.

As always, thank you for reading! Maybe a separate Dante fic coming sometime soon…? (I'm rubbing my hands together deviously) -onyxroses Previous Chapter | Next Chapter (coming soon!)

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mitsuki-komori · 5 months ago

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Black Clover Requests (& Rules)

I am MitsukiKomoriX191. I love writing and Black Clover which brings you this account :) I take 5 requests at a time for exclusively Black Clover fanfiction.

The status on if my requests are open or not will be written on my ask button.

Current Projects (⭐️ = Prioritized Project):

My One in My Heart

As Your Bloodlust Pierces My Heart

12 Ways To Rizz Up Your Lover

Chocobo’s Haven ⭐️

To My Stage ⭐️

Requests

The rate at which I post is sporadic, and be aware that I always post on AO3 (Archive of our own) first and sometimes only on AO3. (I also post edits on TikTok with the same name)

Favorite Types of Content to Write:

Heavy angst, light angst, all angst

Fluff (Favorites being sibling fluff & romance fluff)

Headcanons

Anything not listed below

What I won’t write for:

Y/N, (Name), Reader, OC’s

Smut (With this name attached to it? No.)

Omegaverse

Words that end with ‘philia’

Incest

Rape

If you want me to write about a character who isn’t an asshole as an asshole, I won’t do it. (No making likable characters creepy, racist, or homophobic)

Favorite Characters To Write For (You are not limited to these characters):

Leopold Vermillion

Fuegoleon Vermillion

Mereoleona Vermillion

Asta

Noelle Silva

Luck Voltia

Magna Swing

Langris Vaude

Finral Roulacase

Yuno

Mimosa Vermillion

Kirsch Vermillion

Nozel Silva

Characters I won’t write for:

Charmy

Nacht Faust

Jack

William Vangeance

Yami Sukehiro

Charlotte Rosolei

Julius Novachrono

Zora Ideale

Mars

Fana

Lolopechka

Gadjah

Zogatris Siblings

My Favorite Relationships to Write:

Asta x Leopold

Magna x Luck

Leopold x Yuno

Leopold x Secré/Nero

Yuno x Mimosa

Asta x Noelle

Leopold & Fuegoleon

Leopold & Mereoleona

Leopold & Noelle

Leopold & Mimosa

Mimosa & Kirsch

Langris & Finral

Nozel & Noelle

You are not limited to just these favorited characters and ships, you can request whatever you want with whoever as long as it doesn’t break any rules. However, if you request characters and/or a ship I haven’t included, there’s a chance I might reject it if I’m not interested in it. If I do say no, I’ll be sure to answer it so you are aware.

#Requests #fanfiction #Black Clover #Leopold Vermillion #Asta #Luck Voltia #Magna Swing #Noelle Silva #Fuegoleon Vermillion #Mimosa Vermillion #Mereoleona Vermillion #Kirsch Vermillion #Langris Vaude #Finral Roulacase

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sslitherslither · 22 days ago

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-Perdition's Web

Summary:

An unexpected death drops you headfirst into the shit-stained bowels of Hell, a charming slice of the afterlife called Imp City. Waking up as a sinner with zero recollection of how you got here, you’re promptly thrown into the Underworld’s shady Mafia dealings, where backstabbing is practically a competitive sport. Salvation, or something close to it, comes in the form of a snake slithering through shark-infested waters, but time’s running out before they chum the waters. Better keep afloat cause greed’s slick hands never stop clawing for a chance to drag you below the waves.

Pairing: Striker x GN!Reader

Word Count: 4.3k+

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61773163/chapters/159120214#workskin

Chapter 3: Red Tide Rising

Out of all the damn ways they’d imagined reaching the rendezvous point, it certainly wasn’t by fucking submarine. But there it was, Nero’s commissioned beast, a rare piece of machinery imported from Imp City for some extravagant job he’d bragged about in the Envy Ring. Nero had babbled on incessantly during the journey, proudly recounting every twisted ordeal he’d endured to retrieve this tricked-out sub, as if it were a prized trophy.

Cipher’s patience had worn thin-each utterance a brass knuckle to their temples until a raging migraine threatened to shatter their resolve. Who gave a shit about a slick little getaway vehicle? All they wanted was for this stupid meeting to be over so they could finally deal with Nero’s bullshit and then go to bed.

Hopefully...

At long last, the incessant chatter faded into a dull, background hum as the submarine began its ascent through Hell’s watery depths. The vessel groaned and shuddered with mechanical protest as it started its slow, deliberate climb toward the surface. Outside, the heavy, dark water pressed in on all sides, a suffocating, claustrophobic force that made the hull creak like an old coffin in the grip of a relentless undertow.

As the sub broke through the pressure, a thick, brine-tinged mist enveloped the portholes, and the once-opaque water gradually gave way to a sickly, greenish luminescence. Cipher, seated uncomfortably in a cramped cabin, felt the sudden release of pressure surge through their body like an icy shock.

Their stomach lurched violently with a nausea that was as brutal as a tidal wave crashing over them.

“Cripes!” they muttered under their breath, clenching the armrests as their vision blurred. They weren’t like the sharks,creatures built for the crushing depths-who reveled in the pressure and darkness. No, Cipher was a reluctant newcomer to this watery hell, every inch of the ascent was a battle against dizziness and queasiness, an assault on their already frayed nerves.

The submarine’s ascent was a slow, torturous crawl, the rising water pressure and shifting gravity making every movement seem as if it were underwater in more ways than one. The murmurs of the crew, low and mechanical, barely registered over the roar of their pounding heart. Cipher’s thoughts swirled with the same relentless chaos that seemed to define their fate in Hell, even as the sub crept closer to the surface.

As the vessel finally broke through into a dim, polluted twilight-a murky horizon of industrial decay and failing neon-the relieved sigh of the escaping pressure mingled with a bitter reminder of their captivity. Cipher’s stomach churned anew, a visceral reminder that this ascent, however necessary, came at a steep personal cost as dinner was practically knocking for a dramatic exit.

All they could think was that once this damned meeting was over, they’d never set foot in a submarine again.

Which, in itself, was a lie, since they'd be leaving the exact way they got here.

Shit, shit, shit...

They glanced across the cabin, eyes settling upon their shark of a boss. Nero had shed his usual ensemble, decked in a sleek, crimson number tailored to suit his more powerful frame, his jaw adorned by an expression of smug superiority—no doubt the standard for meetings like these.

One by one, they climbed out of the interior onto the hull of the submarine. A narrow catwalk ran parallel to the edge, bobbing next to the frothing edges of a dockyard. On either side of a rotting, concrete dock sat empty cargo containers and rusting scaffolding, illuminated by a couple of massive floodlights hung from a nearby gantry like two giant, bright eyes.

Not so far off was a warehouse, painted in an assortment of graffiti and boarded-up doors.

A lone figure walked over with a gun in hand, but his stance and saunter reflected the opposite of danger. Lackadaisical and aloof, he shot them both a crooked smirk.

“Evenin’, your magnificence!” the greeter called out. That perked Nero’s attention right up.

Finally, the greeter stepped before them, eyeing up their guests. “Brought the whole entourage, have we? And some new meat too, huh?”

He chuckled, his gaze flickering to Cipher. They didn’t reply but drew their mouth into a tight grimace.

With a swift spin on his heel, the greeter jerked his thumb back to the warehouse with a toothy smile. “No problem here, come on, I’ll take ya to the boss.”

Immaculate. Simply fucking immaculate.

Cipher blinked their eyes upon coming to the heart of the warehouse. From every conceivable angle, their senses were assaulted.

The exterior screamed low profile, empty, and perhaps most importantly, scarce-and yet, the interior was an ostentatious showing of a completely different side.

Fucking rich people, huh?

Like everything else in the Greed ring, a subtle green tint seemed to hug the edges of the furniture and light fixtures. Even through the darker shades, the flickering candlelight cast uneven shadows upon the walls.

Racks of what looked to be shark teeth, horns, and other symbols of bestial dominance were propped in the middle of the room, surrounded by a mass assortment of armchairs set at a long black table. Cipher focused on the shark teeth and various horns. Clearly, this Crimson guy made a statement-and a display-of exactly who they were and what they were capable of.

And it was honest-to-god terrifying.

A dark thought flitted through their mind. Should they become a trophy, what would be displayed? Would they, too, hang upon the wall as a celebration of their destruction? Another kill, another casualty of war?

A sense of dread and unease settled heavily in their gut.

From the opposite end of the table, a voice broke through the silence, each word dripping with a casual, yet cutting authority.

“Nero, lovely to see you.” The statement came from what Cipher had learned wasn’t a demon, but an imp-and a very imposing one at that. His claw tapped slowly on the wood. Even without much interaction, Cipher knew this man was someone not to be fucked with. Or, rather, someone they’d rather not meet on the street after this meeting, lest they meet their untimely doom. “And guests, too, I see.”

The chair screeched against the floorboards as the imp stood, smoothing out his jacket. Crimson gestured for Nero to join him. Nero took the bait and walked forward, swatting Cipher with his tail as he passed. While the strike looked playful enough, Cipher knew better. It was a warning.

You’d better behave-or else

In Cipher’s peripheral vision, one of Nero’s sharks flanked them. A familiar presence.

Purl-some odd mishmash between a shark and one of those succubi Nero loved to entertain so much. Just another reminder, huh? What were they going to do—pitch a bitchfit in front of Mister Fancy Pants? Steal his fancy sub and book it to Imp City?

Because that’s so easy and possible.

Fucking prick.

Seemed the two at the head of the table were having a nice little chat-perhaps catching up before the actual business breakdown began.

Purl came up beside Cipher, nudging them softly.

“I’m having a smoke. Come on,” she grunted, rolling her shoulders.

Cipher hesitated, then nodded and followed.

She didn’t give a second glance to her fellow sharks, just made a gesture that she’d be back before things got started.

Purl exhaled, flicking away the ashes to the wind. She leaned against the dampened edge of the building, looking quite at home within the surroundings.

A couple of other sharks had joined her, equally as relaxed.

One of the sharks-a huge guy with red skin, sharp teeth, black eyes, and an impish tail-eyed up Purl, then Cipher. Another hybrid, maybe? He hooked an arm around Purl, chuckling something Cipher couldn’t make out.

Cipher rolled their eyes, turning away and shielding their eyes with a hand.

Great. They might as well get even further away from that whole situation before seeing something they’d definitely regret. “It’ll be real quick,” Purl drawled, curling into the arm of the red shark. “Don’t go too far.”

Cipher happily took the exit.

And just like that, the building swallowed them.

Without the noisy chatter of sharks-the underlying need for bickering, snarky banter, and barking orders-the warehouse felt serene in its ambiance. Cipher’s mind went blissfully blank as they entered the expanse-a rare phenomenon caused by the peace of the setting. Their regularly overactive brain fell into an idle state. Without the usual din, Cipher felt grounded for the first time in a while. For a moment, they could hear their thoughts without the roar of overlapping voices.

Cipher’s moment of peace didn’t last long.

A soft metallic click cut through the stillness.

Pausing, they traced the sound to a narrow catwalk high above the main gathering area.

They made their way up a twisting flight of stairs, stepping carefully around splintered beams and corroded railings. Below, the darkness pressed closer with each step until the stairs opened onto the walkway that stretched across the center of the warehouse. Despite the obvious dizzying height, they walked onward. Slow. Careful. It wasn’t until they crept onto the catwalk that the flicker resolved itself.

A rifle.

It perched at the edge, its scope pointed with ominous precision. A neat row of bullets glinted beside it like a silvered promise of death. In that moment, they knew someone was watching.

Someone who hadn’t been expecting company.

Then-click.

The scrape of boots to their left, and suddenly, a figure was upon them.

A clawed hand snaked around their mouth, muffling the scream just beginning to tear through their throat. The body behind pressed closer, cornering them, keeping both their respective weight balanced carefully on their toes—careful not to disturb the rifle that had previously been left abandoned, like a lover’s touch.

“Shhh, shh,” came a distinctly male voice, cooing close to their ear in a faux comforting manner. As if silence was going to save them.

The figure pulled them flush to his chest, the grip impossibly tight, clawed hands seemingly digging straight past their flesh and brushing against the bone. The unrelenting force caused them to stagger. They struggled against the figure’s grip.

He tutted, as if unimpressed, before knocking their legs out from underneath them and swiftly mounting them.

Using his thighs, he pinned down their legs before straddling them. Their hands flailed futilely, trying to pry his hands off their face.

He moved his free hand up to Cipher’s throat, “You sure picked a bad time for sightseeing,” he drawled.

Too-long fingers tapped at their throat, as if considering. 'Considering their fate' they thought cynically.

With no place to run or hide, nor the strength to fight, all Cipher could do was wait. Helpless in the hold.

The man-Striker, they would come to know him-leaned over them.

He angled his head down, locking them in his crimson gaze.

Through the panic, Cipher managed to note a pair of distinct pointed canines as he spoke, one golden and glinting in the faint light.

“Pretty little thing like you shouldn’t be up here,” he murmured. His tone darkening. “No tellin’ what kinda hooligans is lurkin’ about on these kinds of walks.” He chuckled softly, the thumb on their neck picking up rhythm and tapping faster.

Cipher fought a cough bubbling up in their throat. The lack of oxygen made everything sharper and dreamlike at once. Yet the world spun.

Their whole body ached-desperate, strained-now held almost entirely by Striker’s arms.

How much pressure until they cracked?

'Just let me go, god damn it.' Cipher fought to breathe, nausea rising. The catwalk’s height, the darkness below, and Striker’s crushing grip fused into a claustrophobic swirl. Their vision started to dance at the edges from lack of air.

Striker’s mouth curled into a humorless smirk at their futile scrabbling, “Yer in the wrong place at the worst possible time, sugar,” he spoke softly, voice carrying a cruel edge. “And I don’t much appreciate snoops.”

Cipher wheezed, voice shredded by the vise on their neck. “I’m… not… snooping,” they managed, though it came out as a strangled hiss. “I swear-just… saw… a light-”

“Mm-hmm.” He didn’t sound convinced, “So you came up here, uninvited, while I set up my little vantage?” A teasing edge laced his tone. “You look too bright-eyed to be stupid… or are ya just suicidal?"

Their lungs burned, heart slamming double-time. They mustered a trembling whisper, “I-didn’t know who… who was up here.”

His eyes flicked in irritation, “Well now you do.” He pressed down a fraction more, enough for Cipher to see splotches of color swirl across their vision.

Then he seemed to reconsider, though the threat in his gaze didn’t lessen, “Keep talkin’, and I snap that neck. Easy as breathin’.”

Cipher stared back-hopeless but defiant-too stubborn to resign their life into the hands of a stranger.

Somewhere below, footsteps echoed-a voice drifting up:

“Cipher? Hey, you around here?”

The call bounced off the corrugated walls, amplifying in the hush.

Striker froze and eased up. Grudgingly. Reluctantly.

He let go-not entirely, merely slacking his grip

A glorious rush of air filled their bruised lungs.

'Oh god-fresh air!'

How underrated oxygen was until it was in short supply. For one dizzying moment, the thought drifted across their mind like wisps of smoke that if they sucked in too sharply, that brief freedom could end.

Then reality slammed back.

His grip tightened, but no longer crushed their windpipe. His free hand slid to his belt, retrieving a wickedly curved knife. The blade glinted in the dismal light, a silent promise of unholy consequences. Striker’s grip tightened, claws dimpling their flesh, but not enough to draw blood. His gaze, a molten golden, flickered in warning: Lie.

Cipher swallowed, desperation fueling the lie that might save their hide. “I’m just checking out the place.” They spoke, faking a peppy tone.

Footsteps lingered for half a heartbeat.

“Well, get your ass back downstairs. Nero wants you front and center.”

'Let me go, let me go, fucking, let me go…'

Keeping the smile in their voice, they yelled back, “Sorry, Purl, be down in a second.”

When she left, apparently satisfied with their answer, the footsteps receded into silence. Cipher exhaled, half in relief. But Striker’s knife stayed firmly against their throat, the assassin’s presence a crackling static that prickled at the edges of their senses. It was enough-just enough-to remind them of the proximity between them, as well as the sharp point hovering just under their chin.

A careless movement, and that blade would dance wickedly across their neck, splintering their windpipe.

And even if they were immortal, a split windpipe was not on their list of priorities.

He hissed in their ear, his breath hot on their neck, voice a rasped whisper, “Good. You’re learnin’ fast. I like that.”

Cipher tried not to think about his tone; the raspy timbre had threads of something distinctly carnal weaving within it.

“Now listen carefully, Cipher... If the boss hears a squeak about any little fly takin’ a sniff around these parts, I know a few nice, deep Hellpits in the dead-ends of Wrath—places keep you roastin’ alive for eternity. If you don’t fancy spendin’ forever on a spit, you’d better keep that pretty mouth of yours shut. N I know you'll be screamin' like a virgin all the way. Real painful.” Striker tipped his head, grinning hungrily, “We'll have some proper fun then, ya and I.”

“Okay, fuck, got it.” Cipher shuddered, trying to quell the wave of nausea rolling through them. “I’m not here to stop you. Didn’t even know you were here.”

“Keep tellin’ yourself that, sweetheart. Best memory’s a liar sometimes. Don’t forget our little conversation…” He flashed a devastating smile, “Not just anyone gets to cross me.”

“Thanks for the chat, I learned sooo much.” The sarcasm rolled effortlessly off their tongue, despite the sharpness in their throat. Maybe it was a defense mechanism, but now it felt good to shoot daggers at the bastard threatening their life.

Maybe it was a touch reckless, but so was living with an obnoxious, sadistic mobster. Hell, it was even worse when that same mobster was also their boss.

Why stop the gallows humor?

Striker snorted, shoving them free, “Real cute. Careful, sugar. My trigger-finger's especially itchy 'round pretty faces. Sure ya look real pretty screamin' my name.”

“Do not.” Cipher rolled their eyes.

Yeah, okay, a dangerous snake-devil-whatever that was definitely capable of pinning them beneath him and not letting them escape… That made things real personal.

Still, the sheer nerve of this asshole.

Did Nero know he had a hitman stalking the grounds?

The way his lips curled into a rictus grin was borderline nightmarish. The expression was unsettling as fuck, but also strangely amusing.

The hitman laughed-unrestrained, as if Cipher had finally cracked a joke worth saying.

It was a great laugh: gravelly and just a shade too close to villainous.

Sure as hell, he wasn’t someone they wanted to mess with-and yet they wanted to hear that laugh again.

They squinted, trying to fit the pieces together: a crazy, high-strung gunman, who wore cowboy boots. Mafia sharks and lonestar snakes-what a mishmash.

Once upon a time, life may have made sense. Now it was a clusterfuck of insanity. Not much else for it.

However, this snake had caused quite the stir for an otherwise mundane day. Cipher couldn’t pass on the chance. Besides, giving the snake his dues was a lot more entertaining than continuing this standoff.

They raised their hands slowly in a gesture of, hey, gonna start moving now.

Striker acknowledged their exit, with a, 'Try anything, bitch-' He swiped his knife through the air. Cipher wisely moved their hand away before they lost a finger. '-and you’ll be burning for eternity.'

Fuck, fucking asshole.

They really hoped he was the lesser devil of the two.

“Word of advice,” drawled the hitman, his stare glacial, “Duck, if you catch the glint.”

With that, the snake stalked back to his sniper. Cipher gave him a wide berth and slunk out through the door.

It wasn’t much further before they were stumbling down the stairs, limbs thrumming with excess energy, every instinct warring to push forward and escape or to linger behind and catch every damn detail.

Their brain, no doubt picked up by the adrenaline rush, was processing information like a fiend, jumping from every little thing that registered, even more than usual.

Shit was about to hit the fan, and fast.

Cipher entered the main fray, spotting Purl lounging across from the group. She narrowed her eyes at their flustered appearance but seemed unperturbed.

Nero's men were sat at the table, chattering among themselves, seemingly at ease. Crimson's men stood at attention, lining the walls like menacing guard dogs, ready to tear them to shreds should they make the slightest wrong move.

Shark against Imp. And snake… they thought to themselves, eyes struggling not to linger on the assassin shrouded in shadow.

Fuck, a hitman here.

They wouldn’t die, but it sure as shit would hurt like a bitch, even if only for a time. And if that hitman was here for who they assumed was Nero or Crimson, then they had to play along and pretend to be blissfully oblivious to the imminent future bloodbath.

Not that they owed anything to either of these bastards or these mafia twats. But there was a grimy little part of them, fueled by spite and their own selfish means, that just wanted to see how things would unfold—the pieces set like a grotesque theatre play.

No going back, for any of them.

Cipher had been lucky once and got caught by the wrong prick. Could lightning strike twice, or did Lady Luck bail the moment she could?

Nero waved them over with a clawed hand, grinning as he plucked another cigar out of the decorative cigar box left in the center of the table, “Seats open…”

It wasn’t an invitation-it was an order.

Cipher approached and sat across from Nero, who was left of Crimson, a few paces off.

“Glad you decided to show yer face. Gave us quite a scare, baby,” the shark chuckled, popping the cigar between his lips and lighting the tip. He inhaled deeply and puffed out the smoke, leaning forward on the table, “You don’t disappear like that.”

“Got sidetracked,” they replied shortly.

“Mmhm, sure, sweetheart. Don’t do that again. Almost had us thinkin’ somethin’ mighta happened to you.” Nero shot them a glare, “Wouldn’t want anything happenin’ to my ace in the hole, would I?”

Bright side, you’re valuable to them.

Downside, you’re valuable to them.

Good as a hostage to extract more money.

“Crimson, this is Cipher. Cipher, Crimson.” Nero gestured to the imp wearing a black-and-red striped suit and fedora.

Cipher turned to face the imp and smiled tightly, immediately taking in all the details about the man. Sharp suit. White hair. Sharp white-and-black horns. Sharp eyes and an even sharper expression. This was a man you had to watch out for and steer clear of his way. Good as an assassin should be. Like a feral beast waiting to leap for the throat.

Crimson extended a hand to them, a glint in his eyes flashing momentarily in the low light, “A pleasure.”

Cipher awkwardly reached their hand out to shake his and grasped it firmly. Despite the sharp claws digging into their wrist, Cipher resisted pulling away, “…Yeah, likewise.”

Nero grinned darkly, “Great. See? Nice to see ya both gettin’ acquainted.”

The tension could’ve been cut with a blunt knife. It was suffocating, as if time had stopped to watch the events of this dreaded meeting unfold. And the clock ticking in their head was counting down until this was either a triumphant kill or a massacre. Maybe even both. Or nothing at all.

Crimson’s presence was overwhelming, though Cipher knew the importance of maintaining a cool expression. If they looked panicked, they’d lose their leverage against these bastards.

A stagnant heaviness loomed in the warehouse. Cipher’s heart thudded, senses on high alert.

Crimson exuded the presence of some kingly demon at the apex of Hell’s underbelly, and Nero—an alpha shark too fond of brandishing his clout—hovered, brimming with smug delight at having them all under his watchful gaze.

An unholy duo.

Crimson turned, flicking his eyes to Nero, “I trust you’ve arranged matters… discreetly?”

His question, though mild, held lethal potential, “I’d hate for pryin’ eyes to spoil our little enterprise.”

Nero’s smile sharpened, “But of course. A special arrangement, new contraband routes, plenty of Sinners just dyin’ to be… redistributed.”

His grin deepened, "Takes a skilled partner to handle that volume, yeah?”

Crimson nodded absently, crossing his arms. His gaze slid to Cipher, “Guess your code-breaker there’ll be crucial, hmm?”

He spoke the question to Nero, but his piercing gaze settled on Cipher’s face, “All sorts of transmissions to decode, if we’re expandin’ routes the way we planned.”

Cipher swallowed, forcing a polite cough. “Just let me know which messages need decrypting. I, uh-” They hesitated, keenly aware of the precarious line between looking confident and overstepping, “I won’t… let you down.” The words felt hollow, especially when pinned beneath Crimson’s scrutinizing stare.

“Good,” Crimson said simply, though something vicious danced behind his yellow eyes, “We’re counting on that.”

Nero shifted restlessly, “Right. So, friend,” he drawled, addressing Crimson with an oily warmth, “we talkin’ half the usual cut or…?”

Crimson tilted his head, brow arching, “We’ll handle the specifics soon." For a heartbeat, he hesitated, then a faint smile curved across his lips. “But it seems our ledger’s overdrawn—time to balance the books.” His tone wavered between irony and a mocking sense of finality.

Before Nero could respond, a gunshot broke loose.

With a splutter and a crunch, Nero slumped into the table, cracking the wood down the center.

Cipher reeled backward, scrambling to their feet, tipping their chair over. To each side, more death as Crimson’s men painted the room red. A quick cut from end to end rendered each of Nero’s men a fountain of sanguine gristle.

Crimson spared Cipher a single glance as a familiar knife was pressed back to their throat, familiar clawed hands dragging them closer, pressed against an overly familiar chest.

“Guess you didn’t catch the glint, did ya, pretty thing?”, Striker’s purred hiss was a velvety soft melody.

A hot rush of anxiety swept through their veins, and Cipher’s mouth went dry, fight or flight screeching in their ear.

“You’ve been awfully quiet, Cipher.” Crimson stood, brushing off his suit and moving around the table, standing beside them and Striker. A smirk played across his face, “Good to see you know your place. Sit and watch as your world turns red.”

#perdition's web #helluva bos fanfiction #helluva boss #fanfiction #helluva boss striker #striker x reader #gender neutral reader #reader insert #x reader #chapter 3

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