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ssson-of-sparda · 3 years ago

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WHAT FORTUNE GAVE - Prologue (Vergil x Nero's Mother)

Summary: Turmoil has engulfed the small Island of Fortuna, shaken now more than ever by a never-ending civil war opposing the religious Order of the Sword to a group of rebels named the Guard of Sparda. As he tries to unveil his father's secret past and achieve some hidden dark purpose, Vergil crosses path with Elissa, a young lady whose thirst for vengeance and blood is as red as the dress she's wearing. He doesn't want to care and he especially doesn't want to get involved but you don't choose your fate in Fortuna. That's the story Nero is about to discover.

Tags: Romance / Angst / Fluff / Explicit Sexual Content / Explicit Language / Canon-Typical Violence / Blood and Gore / Religion / The Order of The Sword / Civil War / Rebellion / Demons / Action and Adventure / Sparda's past

Author’s note: This is one hell of an ambitious project I put myself into, but I hope you will follow me in this journey which is basically another fan fiction about Vergil and Nero's mother. Probably not the best (I've read some prreeety good ones) but one that should be (hopefully) different from what was previously posted.I worked a lot on this story, made a lot of research and used many artistic references that I catalogued at the end of each chapter for the curious ones among you. Since English is not my mother tongue, feel free to let me know if there's any grammar mistake or if some sentences don't make any sense. Anyway, enjoy your reading.

In twenty-five years, Aifric’s Alehouse hadn’t changed even just a tiny bit. Same hefty old furniture. Same mucky walls and filthy floor covered in layers of dry alcohol that stick your shoes to the wooden slats each time you take a step. Same lamentable drunkards in search of more alcohol to drown their sorrows in, their arms around women that would pretend to adore them for a night in exchange for a bit of money. And, now that Vergil dared breathe a little, same foul stench of humidity, staleness and sweat, typical of this kind of underground bars from the no-go areas of the Castle Town of Fortuna. And the music … Don’t let him think about the music. Never thought he would come back here one day. His firm gloved hand grabbed the backrest of a wobbly stool that scratched the old wooden floor with an unpleasant creak as he pulled it to sit on it, revealing his presence to the brown-skinned man sipping his beer in silence next to him, his defeated pockmarked face hidden under a thick dirty white cloak that hadn’t been washed in probably years and that had lost almost all its glorious golden embroideries. Vergil eyed at him for a second, the same way the Moor had eyed at him when, more than two decades ago, he had sit on this very same stool, his then young frame hidden under a cloak similar to his and yet less odorous, a young wanderer looking for stories and answers. Strange how things seems to move in circle. “You’re too late. You know that?” The man’s voice was thickly and hoarse, due to the long years of alcohol abuse and contempt towards the world, towards that silver-haired ghost back from a distant past but especially towards himself. “Twenty-five fucking years too late to be more precise.” He got no answer to that reproach, not a word, just a nod and a pregnant silence that made him scoff. But his laugh, once so hearty and alive, held today nothing but melancholy and despise. “But at least she was right. You did come back.” Vergil peeped at the man again from the corner of his icy blue eyes, longer this time, but still with that eternal impassibility he was known for, hiding his slight surprise and his judgemental thoughts he knew deep down he shouldn’t have. But the barfly next to him was nothing like the man he had met years ago. This man was just the broken shadow of the one everyone in Fortuna once called Adel the Honourable¹ , Captain of the Guard of Sparda. “What the fuck are you doing here … Vergil?” He spat on his name, literally, not caring about what the solemn Son of Sparda would think of him, would do to him. He spat to show him his disgust, his hatred, even though he knew that a bit of saliva wasn’t enough to show the extent of his feelings. “Where is she?” Vergil asked with a calm voice that made Adel grimace (that voice was as nasally and annoying as he remembered) and finally glare at him, allowing Vergil to see how the years and the pain had marked and scared his once-handsome face. “You got some nerve to ask that now.” “ I need to see her.”Adel firmly hit the counter with his empty glass before turning around to stare at Vergil, giving him a long disdainful look he thought he could only give himself. “Sure, I’ll bring you to her. But you might want to give me that damn sword of yours so that I shove it deep in your stone-cold heart first.” Vergil smirked. This was way too reminiscent of old foolish squabbles he once found very amusing … though quite pathetic and most of the time one-sided. “Why don’t you use that crossbow² of yours instead?” The taunt wasn’t meant to defy him if one could read through Vergil’s phlegmatic voice. But the Moor³ interpreted it that way and yet refused to react to it, knowing how vain it would be. “I don’t have it anymore.” Adel opened his cloak to reveal a leather sling with no weapon attached to it. “I don’t have anything anymore. And we know full well that it wouldn’t have done shit to you.” “Trust me, Adel. I know what it’s like to lose everything.” Was it an attempt at sounding

sympathetic? Probably. After all, Vergil still felt somewhat confused by the occasional waves of humanity surging up from inside of him. “Do you?” He laughed with bitterness, not believing him for one second. “Bullshit! And you know why? Cause you never had anything!” If Vergil took this as a personal attack he didn’t let his body show it, but he nevertheless let out one simple sentence, a boast he knew would displease the brown-skinned man, a display of his pride and superiority he always thought he had over that mere human. “I had her.” Quite expectedly, Adel jumped from his stool and before falling back against the bar, tried to grab Vergil by his blue collar. But it looked too pathetic and clumsy to be considered menacing or dangerous. “Fucking stop talking about her!” He pointed his finger at him in defiance while tears formed in his dull black eyes that had long lost their charming spark. “She fucking loved you! She loved you so damn much and you never cared, not a damn second. So don’t come to me with all your ceremony and shit, pretending you care now?” He sobbed loudly and wiped his eyes with his fists, a gesture that only made Vergil frown. How low had that man sunk! And how wrong he was. “Nero needs to know.” The silver-haired man finally said, not very willing to continue this conversation due to a growing lack of patience. “He needs to know about his mother.”There was a new brief silence that could only be filled with glasses clinking, noisy hubbub and prostitutes giggles. Both men gauged each other, wondering who should talk first and what to say after the name of the boy the woman they both loved had given birth to was brought into the discussion. “So you finally know.” The Moor finally said as he crossed his arms over his broad chest. “How does it feel?” Vergil didn’t want to talk about his feelings, especially not with a man he hadn’t seen in years and that would be too eager to judge him. His feelings were his to ponder and only his. “My feelings are none of your concern.” The brevity of Vergil’s sentences was annoying to Adel who had almost forgotten how it was to have a conversation with the stoic Son of Sparda. And when some people would call it introversion he would call it self-importance, despicable self-importance. “Do you ever think of her?” New intended silence. But yes, there were times when Vergil did think of her because that’s what happens when someone as special as her shares even just a tiny bit of his life. He thought of her when he was at his best and when he was at his lowest. And he had been thinking of her even more lately, each time he would look at Nero or think of him, each time he would remember his journey in Fortuna. She was a part of his past he would never be able to cast away. But again, none of Adel’s business. “Look, you don’t need to talk to me about her. Just tell Nero. I bet you know how to find him.”Glad to finally leave, Vergil stood up and dusted his long dark coat he felt had been soiled by such a dirty place. But right after he turned around to walk away, his old acquaintance spoke again with disarming heartfelt honesty. “It feels like hell to me.” Vergil stopped and slightly looked back at him from the corner of his eyes, at his defeated look staring deep in his empty glass again. “Like fucking hell actually. Seeing that kid of yours growing up to be just like her but at the same time just like you right under my nose. That smug smirk he got from you on the lips he inherited from her. Everything about that child makes me want to vomit or plug my eyes out because that makes me realise all I lost, all I could have had if you had never stepped a foot in Fortuna. You took her away from me, away from everyone, and when you finally got out from my life, you dared leave behind you a living reminder of your victory over me to torture me for the rest of my miserable days.” Vergil stood still, withstanding the man’s rancour without batting an eyelash. “The fact you considered her love a victory maybe is the reason why you

never had her.” Vergil replied and before pushing the double-leaf door of the bar, waited for an instant as if he was expecting something to come in, but Adel was stubborn and not keen on accepting defeat. “You took her away from your son!” He shouted and smiled when Vergil froze again on his way out. “ If that’s true, go tell him that then.”

***

Nico was pissed. Nero could tell it by the way she was furiously trying to fix the neon blue sign of their van. But what could he do about it? It wasn’t his fault if a starving empusa had decided to snack on the E while Nico was parked waiting for her friend to come back from his demon ass kicking routine. “D vil May Cry” Nero read out loud with a pout. “I don’t know, Nico. Works for me.” And yet, he had a feeling being angry because of a damn light was just a pretext to let out some pent up frustration due to god knew what. “Really? Is that how you gonna treat your family heritage now?” The black-haired woman harrumphed, threatening to hit her friend with a monkey wrench. “Is that how you gonna treat my precious Minotaurus after all he did for ya? After he followed you right into that hellish ficus?” “Qliphoth.” He corrected with a smile. “Yeah whatever.” Nero had a brief laugh but eventually shrugged, not seeing the problem as he read the neon sign on the van again. “The E doesn’t light up anymore. So what? We still know it’s Devil May Cry.” “When your deadbeat dad tore your arm out from its socket, didn’t I give ya a new one?” Nero grumbled, not finding the comparison funny or admissible. “That’s not the same! You can’t compare my arm to a damn neon letter. I needed my arm!” “And Devil May Cry needs its E! So stop complainin’ and pass me the stillson.” She ordered as she kept on adjusting the colourful wires hidden in the dented bodywork of the van. Nero sighed but handed her the tool anyway. “I thought you were tired of being my pet mechanic.” “ I am but like I said, I can’t let you treat my baby like that.” And then, he dared say it. “Seriously. I thought you would be busy reading those new files you found in your father’s old stuff? You didn’t say anything about what they were.” And, as Nico dropped the wrench on the hood, he immediately knew he maybe shouldn’t have asked that. “Cause they were not interesting. Just pieces of diaries he wrote when he was young, explainin’ how he started working for the Order and why he didn’t want me or my mother in his life anymore.” Nero frowned, not believing Nico for an instant. Her sentence didn’t make any sense to him cause he was sure any child who had grown up without a parent would be even just a tiny bit interested in knowing who they were or what they did. He knew he was. God! What he would give to know even a just of small piece of information about his mother, about who she was, how she looked like. But unfortunately for him, the only person who had all the answers to his questions was never prompt to give them, acting more like a vault than a chatterbox. “And that doesn’t interest you? Raaah come on, Nico!” He clicked his tongue. “I’m interested in his work. Nothing else. I couldn’t care less about his adventure with that other chick which is FYI apparently one of the reason why that asshole left my mother and me.” “ You father left your mother for someone else?” Nico glared at Nero, catching a judgment in his voice that never was there. “ Well I least I know why my father left my mother… No, actually, I know my mum, period.” Nero hadn’t heard that kind of words in years but the burn was as painful as he remembered. How many times he had heard the kids in Fortuna disrespecting him, disrespecting his mother, claiming she was a prostitute⁴ from the ill repute places of Fortuna. How many horrors he had to listen to. And how many punches he had received, and given, because of them. “Damn! I’m sorry, Nero. I didn’t mean.” Nico declared, horrified by her unusual behaviour and by the sudden sadness Nero tried to conceal in his blue eyes. “Forget it. I’m used to it.” He gestured her to let go and went rummaging in the toolbox for no particular reason but to occupy his mind with something else. But Nico wasn’t willing to end their conversation like that, the feeling of guilt eating at her. “I’m sure your mother was someone fantastic, Nero.” She had a soft comforting smile.

“I mean, she had to be, you know … to stand your father.” Nero chuckled but there was still that hint of misery, that very particular misery he only felt when thinking of his mother. A mix of bitterness, void and love. “Maybe she never really had to stand him. Maybe she was … a prostitute like everybody said.” Nico frowned; refusing to believe Nero would go for such bullshit. Didn’t he know how close-minded and rumour-hungry the people in Fortuna were? “Nah, I don’t think so.” She declared as she funnily wrinkled her nose. “No money in the world would be enough to accept to spend a night with your dad. Your mother had to veeeery nice and patient and ooooh so in love with him.” Nero spared a glance at Nico, deeply moved by her attempt at comforting him and hoping she was right. “Damn, I beg that poor woman was a saint, ‘cause Vergil might look yummy to most people’s standards but he ain’t fun.” Her lips pinched together, she had a sort of deep serious frown that wrinkled her entire forehead, a somewhat amusing grimace Nero was sure was meant to emulate his father characteristic impenetrability. She kinda nailed it but … “ Did you just say my father looks yummy?” Nero asked, quite disgusted. A crush on Lady, that he could get, but on his father … It made him shiver and want to throw up. “Huh, to most people standards!” She repeating, clapping her hands between each syllables. “I’m not most people.” Nero’s eyes widened when he heard familiar slow and steady footsteps coming from behind the door of the garage. “I mean, do you really think I could feel even just a tiny bit attracted to ‘Power! I need more power!’?” She imitated with a cavernous voice and Nero tried not to laugh. But it wasn’t Nico’s new impersonation of Vergil that was making him want to do so. It was actually his father standing on top of the stairs, stoic and still like a marble statue staring impassibly at Nico making a fool of him. Maybe he should warn her of his presence. Yes, maybe he should. He timidly pointed at his father standing right behind her; still unsure he wanted this scene to stop. But he couldn’t wait to see Nico’s face when she would notice Vergil. And oh god, how priceless it was. Nico was an intrepid, loud and lovely person but when her dark eyes took a small glance of Vergil, she froze and cleared her throat, definitely uncomfortable and … yeah a tiny bit scared. “But it has its charm. You’ve got some charm. That’s undeniable.” She rectified, looking at Vergil who eventually nodded, a faint smile on his face that meant more ‘yeah right’ than ‘how funny’ in Vergil language. He didn’t find this funny at all. “Good evening to you too, Nicoletta. Nero.” He nodded once again, casting his aura of solemnity all over the garage. “Nico. Just Nico … nevermind.” Nico mumbled in a whisper that Vergil heard but chose to ignore. Nicknames were not his thing… They had never been his thing.He went down the stairs, his hand resting on the hilt of his precious Yamato as always and looked at the van with a new frown. “You two are busy working on some repairs, perhaps.” He asked in an effort to be as familial as possible, something that wasn’t his forte at all. It made the two friends exchange a curious glance. “ Yes … I mean, no, we were done.” Nero replied, wondering what his father was doing here. After all, unexpected visits were not in Vergil’s habits. “ No, we were not. Gotta fix that E, remember?” Nico tapped at the letter with insistence. “ That again?” The young man sighed. “Is Dante here?” That could explain Vergil’s presence in Fortuna. But as 90% of the time – or more – the Son of Sparda evicted an answer, changing the subject – or ignoring it – with a destabilizing yet infuriating indifference. “ Miss Goldstein is right, a E is important.” He spoke, his icy blue eyes looking towards a distant past, towards memories he held in his heart he was rediscovering more and more with each day spent with his family, with his son. “ Thank you! See, I told you!” Nico

shouted, proud to be right. “ What are you doing here?” Nero finally questioned, impatient to finally know the truth behind his father’s presence. “I was in Fortuna visiting an old acquaintance.” Vergil weighed his words with smoothness as he paced in the garage looking at his surroundings without no real interest in them. “ You … got acquaintances?” The slight frown of disbelief on Nero’s face made him suddenly look so much like his father but Vergil didn’t notice, too busy staring at the extinguished E that looked so dull surrounded by such neon blue lights when it should have shone as brightly as them if not more. “Hopefully, he should visit you soon.” “ Wait! What? Why?” Nero always saw his father as an impenetrable mystery, even when he was just V, but right now he couldn’t tolerate him being so evasive. “To give you the answers you want.” And he couldn’t not tolerate him being a stolid piece of shit either. “About my mother?” Or a mute one. But with Vergil, silence often meant a lot. “Hey! You can’t just leave me like that!” Nero caught his father’s right arm with a violent strength, a vision that stirred a new one, an old one, one Vergil regretted. “Plus, why would you send a stranger in my house to talk to me about my mother? Why don’t you do it yourself?” God! If she knew what he had done to their son. What would she say? What would she do? “Silence. I thought so. You don’t even have the courage to tell me her name so why should I expect more from you.” In his lifetime, only a few persons had been able to defeat Vergil, one of them being his son. So, after looking down at his boots for a second, he walked away, not keen on riling up Nero even more, not today.“Elissa.⁵” The name, left unpronounced for so many years, burnt Vergil's tongue when each blazing letter, probably angry to have been reduced to dormant embers for so long, managed to escape the barrier of his tight lips. But Vergil welcomed this fiery pain without blinking and even dared say it again, embracing the ignition once more with a soft melancholic smile. He was part demon. Fire couldn't hurt him. So why being afraid of it? “Your mother’s name was Elissa.” Plus there was no danger in saying her name, just liberation. It was a beautiful name, after all. And for a second, he felt like his young self again. “Now fix it, would you?” That E meant a lot to Vergil.

REFERENCES: ¹ Adel The Honourable: Adel is a Persian name derived from the Arabic عَدَلَ meaning "to act justly". I added the title "the Honourable" to reinforce the idea his character was made to be fair, honest and just. Adel also belongs to the House of Montefeltro, a name you will discover later. ² crossbow: I intended to give Adel a simple bow as it is the weapon of righteousness (ndlr: Robin Hood) but then I chose to give him a crossbow because I thought the addition of the word "cross" was giving a religious connotation that suited his character. The fact that he lost the weapon is of course meaningful. ³ The Moor: reference to Shakespeare's Othello. ⁴ claiming she was a prostitute: This idea of Nero's mother being a prostitute was directly taken from Devil May Cry: Deadly Fortune. In the novel, we learn that Nero was often bullied by the other kids claiming his mother was a whore. ⁵ Elissa: Elissa is the other name that was given to Dido, first queen of Carthage and lover of the demi-god Aeneas, in Virgil's Aeneid. Her name is composed of the Punic reflex of "El-" meaning "god", and "‐issa" that means "fire", hence why her name burns Vergil's lips when he says it. Her name carrying the word "fire" also echoes the red colour of her dress and her hair as well as her affiliation to the House of Minos you will read about later. In a nutshell, this girl is on fire! ;-)

#devil may cry #devil may cry fanfiction #vergil #nero's mother #vergil x nero's mother #vergil fanfiction

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the-ghost-king · 4 years ago

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time for me to share a good™️ headcanon: will and nico love to steal each other’s clothes but their massive size difference makes it so obvious that they’re doing it. nico’s shirts are almost croptops on will and will’s sweaters are practically a dress on nico bc will is like 6’2 and nico’s like 5’5

Anon! Anon! Yes, you. You get it.

I don’t really know what you wanted as a response to this but I felt inspired for the first time in some 10 months so I gifted you a one shot below the “read more”. I’ll also upload it to Ao3 with a link in the notes...

Anyhow Anon, I hope you enjoy it! I got a little off topic but reflective fluff is always good!

If you would have asked Will what he wanted out of life as a kid you probably would have gotten an answer that was something like “a chance to actually go and live life as it was meant to be” or maybe “to be happy, pretty, and stupid”.

He didn’t dare to hope for more, demigods didn’t live long lives, and being involved in a major battle at thirteen didn’t do wonders in regards to establishing confidence in your survival. As for the “pretty and stupid” part of his answer, it wasn’t that Will had ever hated being smart, he just hated the disconnect different intelligence levels caused in peer groups and society; being smart was hard, sure for school purposes it was nice, but that intelligence means you’re constantly thinking and so often so much of the world seems so dull and petty. Will had been lucky enough to be blessed with decent looks, moving through the world was made easy in at least that regard, but he wished he could live without thinking so much because so often he could only see so much awful in the world.

Thirteen year old Will wouldn’t have dared hope for anything more, he wouldn’t have dared hope for anything else more than a decade or so of normal life beyond camp and a chance at an easy life for those few years. When fourteen year old Will got a depression diagnosis he wouldn’t say he was surprised, he would have been annoyed but he hadn’t really felt much of anything in years. (”Atypical depression” The doctor had said, “likely clinical”) A few different types of anti-depressants and a few months of therapy things started feeling okay, better at least. Fifteen came and went, he tried to go off the pills and didn’t quite get there, but his dose got lowered which Will supposed was nice.

In the months of early 16, Nico di Angelo stumbles into his life; exhausted and melting under the pressure of the universe, he makes friends with death. It isn’t much, but Will remembers him from when they were kids back before any major fights. He remembers hearing about Nico running off and he felt bad for not having made a continued effort to get to know him. He felt bad when he left after the Battle of Manhattan too, they’d prepped bodies for their departure together and Will had gotten hung up in the infirmary (he had been one of the last Apollo campers and he was the only one with medical training). In some ways, Will supposed he was making up for those lost years when he didn’t have time to befriend Nico as he would have liked, it made him feel like he was at least trying.

In the beginning things were undeniably rocky, Nico was constantly hooked to machines just so Will could guarantee he wouldn’t die overnight. Even on Nico’s first night in the infirmary he had struggles with sleep, the bed wasn’t comfortable enough and after trying a large variety of options Will had hauled Nico and all of his equipment out to the porch on the back of the infirmary and they slept there for those three days (which turned into two weeks), wrapped up in jackets and in a pile of blankets beneath camp’s fall skies.

Within a few months, they fell in love.

Okay listen, people can call Will ridiculous all they want- but love at first sight is real and he experienced it. He didn’t know it but the day he met Nico and looked into the dark browns of his eyes, he thought something about how his eyes looked like ash from the fireplace at Mama’s house, or how they looked like the soil that his windowsill plants grew from. If you would have asked Will what he thought of Nico the very first time they’d met, he would have told you something about how his eyes were “big, dark, and round like a baby cow”. What Will really meant is that Nico reminded him of the family ranch house he grew up in, he meant he looked like home.

At the time Will just hadn’t known that was what love felt like, but when he figured it out one day teaching Nico how to play Hold ‘em on the back porch of the infirmary with a light breeze and setting sun as they settles down for bed; he knew one thing, he didn’t want anything more than to make Nico happy and he hoped that he could be a part of that more than anything.

It took a little longer for Nico to come around, he had his own demons to battle. Internalized homophobia, even in small doses, is a real downer to say the least, let alone when you’re fighting demons you’ve manifested for some 15 years. The biggest struggle however, was probably in all honesty the fact that Nico was so goddamned oblivious. After spending years alone with limited human contact at best, and having spent so many years desperately wanting Percy to notice him, and being met with negative reactions, Nico didn’t know what love looked like anymore. How had he been supposed to know he was in love with Will?

There was a lot of subtle back and forth, would the other even be interested in a guy? It ended one day with an unplanned kiss followed by a declaration. Will called it the best mistake he ever made, neither of them really thought it was a mistake.

It was days like today that only proved that.

Will had woken up to Nico’s face on a pillow next to him. He’d fallen asleep with his hair pulled back in a ponytail, and some of his smaller hairs had fallen loose in the night and now framed his peaceful face. The first rays of golden sunlight fell through accidentally left open curtains, and Will reached out to brush a stray piece of dark hair and place it behind Nico’s ear.

He woke up to a morning more beautiful than he would have ever hoped for at 13, and he would always be glad for that. He would always be grateful for how far he had come in not quite a decade. At just twenty-two he was 4 years into medical school, and three years married to Nico and he truly believed he was one of the happiest men in the world simply because he made Nico happy.

In time, Nico too would wake up.

First with a huff, and then a grumbling noise of annoyance as he rubbed his face with his arm as though trying to block out light before half-asleep Nico seemed to accept his fate and wake up fully.

“Good morning”

“How long have you been up?”

“Awhile”

Nico made a knowledgeable humming sound, perhaps he was just acknowledging Will’s response or perhaps he was saying ‘of course’.

A few kisses, a short conversation, and a couple of “I love you”’s later, they got out of bed.

Nico's was wearing Will's high school hoodie that was a bit too short on Will anymore like it was a dress on him. The hoodie went down to Nico’s knees, he's got his own black shorts on because Will's just fall off unless he ties them really really tight. He's got black socks pulled up almost to his knees, there’s a little gap between the end of Nico’s shorts and the start of his socks. The hoodie goes down an inch or two past his short pockets, and he goes outside to grab the mail with a pair of unlaced combat boots on his feet. He's got his skull ring on his middle finger of his right hand, and his left hand holds a simple wedding band which glint in the light as he opens the front door. His hair is pulled up into a messy ponytail, some of it is up some of it is down, there's tons of flyaway hairs which frame his face since he hasn’t fixed it sense getting out of bed.

Call it a cliché, but Nico looks like Heaven personified without even trying.

Sure, everyone looks nice in a suit or a dress, but how many people can roll out of bed without doing their hair wearing a decade old hoodie and look like they belong in a magazine spread?

Will is wearing one of Nico's looser shirts, on Nico it comes down past his hips and a little onto his thighs, on Will is he so much as lifts his arms a centimeter it reveals his hip bones. He doesn’t really mind, he kind of likes it to be entirely honest. Will can remember being just a few inches shorter than he is now and fitting fairly comfortably in Nico’s clothes at the time, they had never worried whose clothes they grabbed back then. Nico had finished his growth spirt and Will had thought he was done only two inches taller, it didn’t matter whose clothes were whose because everything fit well enough.

That wasn't quite the case now, Nico had stayed at his casual 5"5 while Will had shot up and extra six inches to 6"2 and ruined his own chances of sharing clothes. Such as right now he was sure he was wearing his own sweats, because he had specifically had to get a pair last night despite Nico's having been more accessible. Anytime he's actually managed to get a pair of Nico's pants comfortably on in the last few years, result in him wearing pants that are more like compression shorts or capris than pants.

Will was just happy he could wear some of Nico's larger shirts and hoodies still, the fact that Nico preferred to sleep in lots of clothes and typically baggy clothes meant Will had some options when it came to wearing his husbands stuff.

Will has also managed to steal a pair of Nico's socks, they're a taller pair on Nico (he buys winter wear so often because he's cold always) but on Will they gather a little awkwardly around his ankle. Will doesn't usually wear socks but they had gone to bed without the heat on and apparently the cold had set in over night and you could definitely feel it on their apartment floors.

The clothes would be a bit stretched out from him, it was something Will can remember being worried about after his second growth spurt, but Nico doesn't mind, He's assured Will of this time and time again, he says something about "aesthetic" and "alternative". Will doesn't really know, he's never cared much for fashion but he'll take Nico's word on it.

The truth, although it's something Nico would only admit in their bed late at night when it was so dark you could barely see his face, and arguably a little drunk as well, was that he actually enjoyed the way the clothes fit better after Will wore them. He found some sort of comfort in the way the shoulders of his shirts would be just a little too wide on him, it was one of those small acts of love, it wasn't one Will entirely understood but both of them got their own sort of enjoyment out of Will stretching out Nico's sleeping clothes some so they went with it.

Will turns his attention from Nico walking out the door to the coffee pot on the countertop.

Will doesn't like coffee much, he likes the social aspect of getting a cup more. Nico had introduced him to it, he’d been drinking it for years by the time they’d left camp. It reminded him of home and he grew to like it for such reasons, and although Nico would consume just about anything with enough caffeine in it Will needed creamer to enjoy coffee to any amount.

They were both honestly probably more tea people, but they never seemed to remember to buy any. Will will try to remember to write it down on the grocery list later, but Nico has walked back into the kitchen, climbed up on the counter next to Will and now he is looking at him; and Nico is always a distraction that's worthy of taking, Will will definitely forget to write down tea for their grocery list and the week will start over with more coffee in the house and no tea.

Nico’s fingers grip the countertop and he swings his legs a little bit back and forth from where he sits on the black granite, his white gold rings set against the counter in contrast. Will's worn out blue hoodie looks grey with age, the little printed letters are cracked and peeling on the back of it, his last name can still be read in white though.

Will knows the cliché about your lover wearing your name is often unhealthy and overly possessive, but he likes seeing Nico with his name because it feels like a gift. It’s like he’s given Nico a part of himself and Nico accepted it with pride, and Will loves that, he loves him and Nico being little pieces of each other.

Nico is smiling at him, and leans just so, Will turns in acknowledgment of the gesture, and moves so he’s standing to the left of Nico. Nico crosses his legs at the ankle and leans towards Will laying his head against Will where his neck and shoulder meet. Will leans forward and buries his face into Nico’s hair, comfortable and a little sleepy still.

"Coffee?"

"Mhmm."

"Good."

Will isn't the best cook, for fucks sake he's not even someone who could be considered a good cook, but he can handle this. Nico taught him the basics when they were still living at camp, Will failed every time, he ended up going home for a short period for Christmas break and begging his mom "teach me how to make eggs" he left off the bit about impressing Nico but he knows she knew. When he came back Nico had just smiled at him, "you practiced huh?"

Will hadn't gotten better at making much else, some eggs, toast, coffee and he could boil water now too! He had burnt lots of stuff over the years, plastic containers in the microwave, a plastic ladle they had on the stove top, at least 100 failed attempts at grilled cheese. Will was honestly just happy he hadn’t blown up any microwaves since he was a kid...

Nico had come home to many of Will's failed attempts at making him various things, sometimes the food was underdone other times it was bits of inedible char. Will did try, he really did, but the heat was always too high or he would end up distracted, or he would use sugar on accident instead of salt. Will did actually try, but his best attempts still often left something to be desired, so he often was the one doing dishes.

Most notably one time Nico had come home to him attempting to pan-frying some fish.

It had been supposed to be a surprise, it was Nico's birthday, and Will had had the day off of class even though Nico hadn't. He figured he would have surprised him; it had been back in their first apartment, not quite as nice as this one. A cheap tiled cream counter top that Nico had literally cringed at when seeing it the first time, the cabinets had somehow been cheaper than a set from IKEA and it had become an inside joke to them.

He had walked in the apartment to see smoke coming off the pan with a bit of flame still coming off it, and a large piece of charred fish stuck to the bottom of one of their frying pans.

"Hey dumbass, what did you do in here?"

People thought they were an odd couple, Will could see that. The whole parallel people drew between light and dark and optimism and pessimism and such between them, none of those people were really correct though. Will and Nico were more similar than they were different. At the end of the day it didn’t really matter what people said, Will liked Nico, he loved him in all honesty- he'd never heard the word "dumbass" said with so much affection.

Nico was hard for most people to read, years along had left him struggling emotionally in some manner; he did his best to hide most of his emotions, cloak them so heavily that sometimes they were even unrecognizable to Nico himself.

The most obvious example of this in regards to Nico was how "shut up" often meant "I love you", "idiot" was synonymous with "darling" in some ways. Don't get Will wrong, Nico could be very affectionate, but pet names came with hesitation for him in the early days; Should he use Venetian, Italian, or English? Masculine words that were romantic had been hard for him to say as well... But everyday he grew and got better, and Will was proud of him every time he called Will “dear” and didn’t hesitate before or after.

Nico had started masking his emotions at some point during his time at Westover, whatever he had done there hadn’t been much more than how much the average person masked their feelings, but when he started training with Minos Nico had doubled down on keeping his emotions secretive. Minos hadn’t been kind or safe in any sense of the word, emotions were what he used to manipulate Nico all that time, it was no wonder Nico developed such a strong sense of apathy towards anything overtime.

Nico could be affectionate, he could be the most loving person to ever exist. Nico’s emotions were sort of like secrets, if you stayed awake late enough into the night you would only come to know him then, such was the nature of him. He often whispered so quietly his wants and needs into the dark, there was some sense of fear tied to Nico’s vulnerability and he handed off his worries each night to the stars soft glow. Nico often refused to talk openly during the day, but at night apologies and truth always came, he had known what he had wanted earlier he had simply been to afraid of the rejection to acknowledge it, Will is glad that with the years the worst of such things is over; it is unlikely to be something Nico will ever fully grow out of, such is the nature of humanity, but progress is a virtue.

Such times not only resulted in Nico’s acknowledgement of his wants and faults, but also garnered the most affection from Nico. Nico couldn’t always communicate in an effective manner verbally, which was still a process they were working on, but he did his best. Nico’s act of love was like that of a small bird, he gave you small things that seemed insignificant until you realized he had only ever told you such things. Will fell in love with him for it, it wasn’t just about the way he would describe the wallpaper in his childhood bedroom, it was the fact that nobody knew anything else about Nico’s childhood bedroom.

Will had never truly understood the concept of “touch starved” until he met Nico, he had known the definition sure, but he had never truly witnessed it. Nico never asked for touch, but it was the way he leaned into it, the way he sought it out; pressing up against Will’s hand like a cat stretching trying to get a little more contact somehow, trying to make the touch last just a bit longer so he could savor it properly. It was literally starving in some manner, starving for contact that wasn’t a goodbye or a hit, just for wordless contact. When he grew comfortable he gave affection fully, there was a joy in holding Nico’s hand, knowing that he felt safe enough not to worry about the effect a few extra seconds of prepping for a fight that holding hands would add.

Nico didn’t show affection in big ways, and that was more than okay with Will; they were laid back in comparison to most, he’d have sought the comfort of placing soap bubbles on each others head in the tub a hundred times over a night on the town. Nico’s affection was something quiet and almost secretive, unknown to anyone it wasn’t directed at; it was the way he would lead Will out of a room to kiss him, or the quiet way he whispered “I love you” into Will’s ear when in public.

Will supposes in the early days “shut up” became “I love you” in order to avoid being seen as weak in some manner, in order to avoid acknowledging what he really wanted to say and having Will not respond in kind. Will didn't mind, they weren't an overly affectionate pairing- banter was common, almost everything they did was turned into some sort of game, the term "boys will be boys" definitely applied to their relationship of 3am pillow fights, late night discussions about what order the Christmas ornaments had to go up on the tree in, and whenever they wrote thesis papers for living room debates over the best Disney villain.

Will honestly preferred it that way, he preferred having the little moments reserved for solely them. He preferred the aversion to sappy clichés, the way a lover could say your name with exasperation and a smile that meant the whole world. He had seen what some other couples had, quick kisses in lines at cafes, holding hands across the table, and calling each other pet names they’d made up that were somehow ten times worse than the original- and Will didn’t want that.

It wasn’t that what those couples had wasn’t love, it just wasn’t love in a way Will could understand, it wasn’t love Will felt from those sort of exchanges. He didn’t understand the idea of “butterflies in your stomach”, love wasn’t nerves, love was like coming home after a long day, love was the way someone could say your name like it was divine, love was the way someone would smirk at you when you were missing the point, love was not being afraid to cry in front of them, it was knowing you could show up to them with any problem and instead of leaving you they would research the ins and outs of it in all their entirety.

The coffee maker makes a sound, Nico lifts his head of off Will’s body and the deep browns of his eyes are like the freshly turned dirt of fields in planting season, and Will feels like there’s a garden growing in his chest that Nico feeds. Nico sits straight on the counter and pulls his legs up and sits cross legged on the counter as he pulls out his hairband, and runs his fingers through his hair before pulling it back up without all the flyaways.

Will moves towards the coffee machine, pours it into two cups, and sets one on the counter beside Nico before making his way to the fridge to grab creamer. Nico’s watching him right now, but there’s no need for talking; there will be talking in a minute. Talking about Will’s schedule for the week, talk of whatever project Nico is working on right now, talk of what they should do for dinner the rest of the week, little sweet nothings, and eventually they’ll make their way to the couch to watch some tv and maybe later in the day they’ll play some sort of game or something as well.

So yeah, maybe "light" and "dark" were polar opposites and some people would have walked out on the word dumbass rather than immediately loving it, but Will liked it- everyday was a game of sorts, a new adventure, all with Nico who he loved. Coming home from work wasn’t necessarily about the place Will lived but knowing Nico would be there for him to see was the point of going home, home was wherever Nico was and some small part of Will hoped eternity was real in some manner.

Will remembered when Michael had died thinking nothing could possibly get worse, and in some ways he was kind of right; he had ended up with some sort of demigod style fairy tale ending with the man he loved, and that was ten times better than anything fifteen year old Will would have hoped for.

#solangelo #Nico di angelo #Will solace #pjo #hoo

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happyk44 · 4 years ago

Text

For @achillesmonochrome based in this AU

Annabeth splayed out on the bed. Two hours listening to Percy rant and rave and then another hour helping him fine tune his shrine for the billionth time.

Why couldn't he just use a candle like a normal person?

Piper kicked open the bedroom door and stood there, arms on her hips, eyes flaring. Annabeth sat up and grinned. "You look sexy."

Piper stormed over and pushed her down, straddling her hips. "There's no amount of flattery that can save you now. You've crossed the line, Bethany."

Settling her hands into the nice curve of Piper's hips, Annabeth rolled her eyes. "He's my best friend."

"And that's fine! But using Grover-" She jabbed Annabeth's chest. "That's just cheating."

"You say that like he's actually going to come down and pick one of them," Annabeth huffed.

"I like to believe in love."

"And that's what makes you a sucker." She locked her grip and rolled them over, her hands snapping up to pin Piper's in place above her head. "You look cute like this."

Piper grinned mockingly. "Not happening."

Annabeth groaned and dropped her head. "Pipes-"

"Nope!" In a smooth move even Annabeth couldn’t have calculated, Piper slid one leg under Annabeth’s outstretched body, locking it over her shoulder and flipping her over. She bounced up before Annabeth could grab her again. “No sexy time for you until you apologize and agree to stop helping Percy in his worthless crusade for moon ass.”

“No.” Piper flipped her hair over her shoulder and fixed Annabeth with a pointed look. Fine. She could dig her heels in too. Annabeth crossed her arms. “If you’re going to be a nuisance about this, I’m not cuddling you tonight.”

Piper’s face fell for a quick second before hardening. “I don’t need cuddles.”

She was such a liar. She was almost as bad, if not worse, than Percy was when it came to demanding casual physical affection. If Percy was an octopus then she was a koala.

Clingy as fuck.

“Okay. Then we’re both fine.” Annabeth pulled her hair up into a tight ponytail. Piper’s eyes traced the bare skin of her exposed neck and shoulders. “I’m gonna order Taco Bell.”

As she passed by Piper, she deliberately held her body back, refusing the barest hint of skin-to-skin and smiled meanly at her girlfriend of three years. Piper frowned as she passed, the frown slipping into a scowl the moment Annabeth had her back turned.

“I don’t need cuddles,” she heard her mutter.

Annabeth snorted. Yes, you do.

She grabbed the Taco Bell menu pinned to their takeout board and flipped through it. Fishing her phone from her back pocket, she opened up the delivery app, eyes still trained on the words written in front of her. Out of the corner of her vision, she saw her phone go black.

She glanced at it. Gave it a little shake. Huh, she thought, pressing the power button and watching it glow back to life. Weird. Thought I changed the screen time.

She shook her head, scrolling through the delivery app until she hit Taco Bell. She passed the menu off to Piper’s outstretched hands, sneakily dipping out of the way when she tried to stroke her fingers on the grab.

Halfway through her order, the phone went black again. “Are you fucking shitting me?” she muttered. She squeezed the power button.

It didn’t turn on.

What the-

“Ann?” Piper called out. She glanced up to where she was staring. The TV was glitching, a mass of empty static on the screen. “Is it broken?” Annabeth stepped closer, Piper not following. ”This is how white people die, Annabeth!”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous.” Annabeth glanced behind the TV. “It’s probably just a wire or something.”

“Of course you would say that,” Piper hissed, grabbing the metallic bat from her baseball kit stored by the front door. Bat balanced in front of her, she pushed herself up the wall. “Between me and you, I’ll probably die first. You get to be the final girl.”

“If I’m gonna be the final girl, it’ll be because I’m smart enough not to get outwitted by a demon,” Annabeth grunted, reaching behind the TV and fiddling with the wires. She checked the TV, seeing empty static. “Not because of racism.”

“It always comes down to racism,” Piper muttered.

Annabeth frowned, stepping out from the side. She picked up the remote and tried to change the channel but the static didn’t vanish. “Fucking hell,” she grumbled. “Must be the cable box.”

“Demon!” Piper protested. “Did you fuck with one of my sigils? I swear to the gods, Beth, if you fucked with one of my sigils-”

“Why would I fuck with one of your sigils, Pipes?” Annabeth yanked out the cable box and fiddled with the wires but it was fine. She frowned and turned the box off. The static didn’t vanish. She turned the TV off. The red light vanished but the static remained. “Hmm. Well, now I’m stumped.”

“Check on my sigils!”

She groaned. “If I knew letting you live with me would make a puppet like this, I wouldn’t have agreed,” she muttered, pushing up from her knees and checking the hidden painter’s tape Piper had pressed along the edge of the wall. It took a few seconds for her to spark her own second vision to see the hidden tape and it’s resulting intricately designed sigils.

“I don’t know why you didn’t have your own! Who lives without protection like that?” Piper protested.

Her knees burned as she crawled along the floor but she still huffed out, “People who don’t have werewolf friends?”

“Hahaha.”

“I’m only kidding a little bit.” She grunted as she came to the doorway splitting the living room from the hallway. “I don’t fuck with anything or anyone that doesn’t belong to our Lady Reyna and/or isn’t human. That keeps me pretty safe.”

“Grover isn’t human.”

“Grover doesn’t count,” Annabeth muttered. She turned to crawl around the doorway when her vision split. Ugh. Another reason why she couldn’t bother with sigil. Hiding them from the eyes of others meant split vision and she was never good at managing second sight.

Her beliefs stemmed from strength, confidence, strategy.

There wasn’t that much magic, if any, she bothered to follow. Second sight wasn’t even necessary until she met Piper.

“What’s wrong?”

“Vision split,” she muttered. “Gimme a second.”

Seeming slightly more relaxed that the sigils in the area where the main issues were happening weren’t snapped, Piper nodded. Then someone knocked on the door. “Oh, fuck no.”

“Relax,” Annabeth huffed, standing up.

Piper swung her bat at her, freezing a foot away. “If you try to open that door, I will kill you.”

“If I learn how to apply sigils, will you learn how to use a proper weapon?” Annabeth pushed the bat out of her face. “Reyna cannot be looking down on you with approval for this.”

“She looks down on me with hella approval,” Piper said. “And fuck off from the door.”

Annabeth rose her arms over her head and backed up. “Fine, fine, fine.”

She watched with slight trepidation as Piper approached the front door, peaking through the peephole. Her stance tightened and she backed up.

“What is it?”

“Nothing,” Piper hissed through gritted teeth. “Just an empty hallway. Don’t fucking like that.” She turned out, her eyes glowing faintly with second sight before she pushed her bat into Annabeth’s hands and dropped to her knees, furiously checking on the sigils taped around the apartment.

In her absence, Annabeth glanced back at the static TV. Hmm.

Balancing the bat over her shoulder, she stepped up to it once more, fishing her phone from her pocket. It was still black. She glanced between the TV and the phone, frowning. She didn’t pocket her phone but walked into the kitchen, turning on the microwave. It counted down from thirty, steady, until it reached twenty-five.

Then it glitched, numbers spiralling. The glow inside didn’t stop but changed from it’s usual bright orange spin to an unearthly red.

Grover passed through her mind, his weird brown aura.

Her mother didn’t use sigils anywhere but the bedrooms, citing privacy. The first time he’d tried to pass through, her light turned a dark brown, casting a creepy glow, before Annabeth had the chance to give him the code.

Red...

Red could be many things. The sun, war, fire. She pressed her fingers to the microwave’s buttons, reverting Aethin code to Arabic numerals. As soon as she hit nine, the final number, the microwave began to count down again. Her phone glowed back to life, the delivery app peering back at her.

As she turned, she called out, “Hey, Pipes, it’s not a demon, I think it was just-” She jerked to a frozen stop.

Lady Reyna stared down at her, all six foot five glory and righteousness. “A god?” she asked. Her smile was not kind or threatening - a blank neutrality that had Annabeth shivering, feeling all too small and all too much like a slice of prey. “You’d be right.”

“Ann, why did you stop-” Piper’s voice faltered before she weakly finished, “-talking.”

“I believe she was caught off guard,” Lady Reyna said, stepping to the side. She gestured loosely to Annabeth’s side and Piper slid right into the spot. “I have something I’d like to discuss.”

“I told her not to get summer’s kiss,” Annabeth said. Her mouth was dry as hell.

“It smelled nice,” Piper whispered.

Lady Reyna frowned then snorted. “No, no, this isn’t about my candle. This about my friend. Nico. Lord of the night skies, prince of death.”

“Oh.” Seriously? Was he seriously choosing between their weirdly obsessive friends? “Okay.”

She pushed her hand through her hair, muscles rippling under her tunic. Annabeth resisted the urge to reach out and touch, gently slapping away Piper’s hand as she tried to so.

“I find their obsession... concerning but easy enough to ignore. But now they’ve roped you, my lovely followers-” Annabeth’s knees smacked together. “-into their strange brigade. I find that a personal affront. If they’re so willing to court a god-” Her tone darkened, eyes glowing whiter than bone. “-they should be doing so of their own merit. Proving themselves worthy of such a man.”

Annabeth tried to respond but her breath caught out in her throat, releasing no words, just broken sounds.

Lady Reyna sighed. “I would appreciate you passing on my message. Hazel is... reluctant to agree with me. What with her own interest in one of your... obsessive friends. Talking with my own followers, however, is never out of the question.”

“Of course,” Piper breathed. “I didn’t like helping Jason anyway.”

Liar. “Yeah.” Annabeth coughed. “Same. With- with- Percy.”

Lady Reyna clasped her hands. “Wonderful then.” She stepped back. “I hope you’ll heed my words about your involvement in thier conquest. I’d rather this not be the reason for my next visit.”

She was gone before either of them could say a word.

Next visit. Annabeth stared at the spot she’d been standing. NEXT VISIT?

“Did... Did she just say she was coming back?” Piper whispered.

“Uh huh.”

“Do you think... do you think she meant, like... temple visit? Like... normal?”

“Uh uh.”

“Oh.” Piper sounded faint. “We’re gonna have to deep clean.”

Annabeth covered her face with her hands and sank down to the floor in a slightly tense squat. “Uh huh.”

“Might as well get a new mattress,” Piper muttered. “Since I’m gonna fuck her.”

Annabeth groaned. “Piper!”

“You can join us! That was totally expected for you to do, Annie!”

Annabeth pulled her hands from her face and looked up at her girlfriend. “Well...” She faltered. Lady Reyna’s muscles rippling came back to view. Her stacked biceps. “Good.”

#reyna ramirez arellano #annabeth chase #pipabeth #piper mclean #pjo fanfic #my fanfic #my writing #happy talks pjo

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sparkie96 · 4 years ago

Note

Babysitter!AU, Meet Messy (??), “Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. Shit. Fuck.” (In which Nero babysits Dante’s babies)

When Leon had asked Nero if he was interested in spending the weekend at Devil May Cry, Nero had been ecstatic. He and Uncle Dante would finally get to go devil-hunting without Leon having a whole conipshit about Nero going. Well, at the same time, Nero was a tad suspicious because his mother would never let the teenager go devil-hunting...so something was definitely amiss.

Leon had been overprotective of him due to the years of bullying from kids at school and then because of his job and because he was a single parent, Leon barely took Nero with him on assignments after a certain age, mainly because it was easier to get a babysitter from the BSAA. That was due to Chris, who was sort of in and out of Nero’s life growing up, his position with the BSAA making him busier than Leon’s job at USStratacom and then the DSO.

It didn’t help that, five years ago, Nero had almost gotten killed several times when he did go with Leon to Tall Oaks...but that’s because his Mom’s job was supposed to be just accompanying Uncle Adam when the man gave a speech at the college and to look at future opportunities with said college for Nero. There wasn’t supposed to be BOWs and terrorist attacks.

And then there was that incident in Fortuna two years ago, when Kyrie had secretly contacted him about possible demons...and then it turned out that the cultists there had somehow gotten a hold of his mother and the Yamato.

But that was then and this was now, and Nero wasn’t a defenseless teenager anymore. He was twenty-one and could handle things himself...but that didn’t stop him from still living at home and loving his Mama Bear and occasional Dad Chris as well as his future baby brother and/or sister. So, maybe his mother had trusted him enough to let him go devil-hunting with Uncle Dante and Nico.

Once they had gotten inside, however...that had not been the case. Well, Uncle Dante was going devil-hunting, but with Lady and Trish. He didn’t need Nico’s van nor did he need Nero to go with. However, due to Patty being unavailable and Morrison out of town...Dante needed a babysitter for the three little hellions that were his and Morrison’s babies and Nero’s cousins.

Nero should have known that it was too good to be true, “But...Mom...do I have to? I mean...what if you need back-up, Dante?”

Leon chuckled as Dante pointed backward at Lady and Trish, who were eating one of the pizzas Dante had ordered, “That’s why these two lovely ladies are coming with. As back-up.”

“And besides,” Leon added, “Weren’t you the one who said you were able to handle anything? Now that you were a “mature Omega”?”

Nero pouted at his mother, “Well, yeah...but I meant I was old enough to handle devil-hunting and driving around with Nico and Uncle Dante! Not as a glorified babysitter!”

“Not really glorified,” Dante pointed out, “Considering you’re going to be watching Greenie, Blue, and Reddie. They’re part demons like yourself, so you’re plenty qualified.”

Leon nodded and smiled in agreement, Nero’s pout deepening once more, “Seriously?”

“Oh, come on.” Leon chided, ruffling Nero’s hair, “You just have to babysit them for the weekend. And think about it! You’ll have the whole place to yourself and it’ll be practice for when you have pups of your own.”

“Or helping Lele here raise Rugrat Number Two.” Dante chimed in, earning a nudge from the younger Omega.

“But, more so,” Leon said, looking from Dante to his son, “You’ll have Devil May Cry and the apartment all to yourself and you won’t have to deal with me and Chris...just the triplets.”

Nero gave Leon a look, reassuring his mother that Leon wasn’t a bother and neither was Chris. But, he supposed he was up to the challenge. Leon went over the list of contacts and when he and Chris were both gonna be available. In Leon’s case, the Omega was going to be available pretty much the whole weekend due to Maternity Leave and working from home. Chris was going to be available part of Saturday and Sunday afternoon due to covering for a coworker. Dante said to just call Morrison or Patty when it came to the babies, mainly because he didn’t carry his cell on missions. Lady gave a look before reassuring Nero that she would answer if there was a problem.

“Alright, people!” Dante called, “Time to roll out!”

Leon handed Nero his overnight bag before hugging him tightly, “Be safe, alright? And call if you need anything at all, okay?”

Nero smiled and nodded, kissing his mother’s cheek, “I will. I’ll call you before bed. Love you, Mom.”

“I love you too, bud.” Leon replied, kissing his forehead before turning to the door.

“Drive safe!” Nero called after his Mother, “Text me when you get home!”

Leon gave a wave backward before closing the door, Dante locking it behind them all. And then...it was quiet. Nero took a deep breath before going to the steps, ascending them up to the apartment section of the building. He hadn’t even made it to the top step when he heard something smash inside of the apartment, a quiet, “What the fuck” leaving his lips as he quickened his pace.

Using the key his Uncle gave him, Nero all but threw open the door, dropping his overnight bag just inside the doorway. Inside, Reddie, Greenie and Blue were already tearing the apartment apart, Greenie sitting on the side table where the lamp had once sat. Said lamp was on the floor in a million pieces, making Nero curse some more. The apartment was a mess! Dante hadn’t even been gone that long and the three demon babies were already wreaking havoc!

“Hey!” Nero called to the little demon baby, who fluttered away, “Stop that!”

Reddie carried a magazine between his teeth as he flew around, occasionally stopping to tear out another sheet before Nero began to chase after him. Blue scampered into the kitchen, narrowly avoiding Nero’s booted feet as the Omega chased after his sibling.

Nero scooped him up on the way by, “Oh no, you don’t!”

Blue made a surprised noise, but chittered and chirped, thinking that Nero was playing with him. Nero put the little baby demon in his hood before continuing his pursuit after Reddie. Greenie chased after Nero, occasionally picking up speed and pulling at the necklace around Nero’s neck in an effort to get Nero to stop chasing Reddie.

Of course, this was all a giant game to the triplets.

“Fuck!” Nero cursed as Reddie turned a hard left, Nero missing him and running into a couple of picture frames, knocking them off the wall in the process, “Damn it, Red! If you stop I’ll give you guys cookies!”

Reddie came to a halt, little wings still flapping to keep him in the air, but the magazine falling from his mouth as big blue eyes turned to stare Nero down in excitement. Greenie landed and perched himself on Nero’s shoulder, cooing and bouncing up and down for a cookie. Blue was screeching loudly, also demanding a cookie.

“Well...shit.” Nero said as he held a hand out for Reddie to land on, “I should've said that as soon as I came in.”

He carried them to the kitchen and retrieved some cookies from the cookie jar on top of the fridge. He set the babies and their cookies on the table, telling them to “Stay” before going and looking for a broom and dustpan to clean up the mess.

Once he swept up the living room and the broken glass, as well as the picture frames, he discarded the glass into the trash and took out the glass from the frames before setting the frames in a drawer next to the couch. Nero brushed off his hands before going to the kitchen to retrieve the babies.

Only to discover that they were no longer there, cookie crumbs sitting in their place.

“Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. Shit. Fuck.” Nero panicked as he began looking all around, “Where the hell did they go?!”

Seriously, where could they have gone in the small space? Blue didn’t even have wings to fly with, so how the hell had he disappeared so fast? He heard the sound of the lid moving on top of the cookie jar, looking up on top of the fridge. Blue’s little tail and legs were hanging out of it, his upper half in the cookie jar itself. Greenie and Reddie stood under him, both hanging on to his little legs so he wouldn’t fall inside.

“This is gonna be a long weekend…” Nero muttered to himself.

#wip wednesday #Heir of Vergil Series #Nero Sparda #Reddie #Greenie #and Blue #Dante Sparda #Leon S. Kennedy #Omegaverse AU

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sctanic · 4 years ago

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『 dove cameron. twenty-one. cis woman. she/her. 』 oh heavens, is that THEODORA ‘THEO’ KENNEDY from SYCAMORE WAY i see roaming around mapleview? minnie may’s always calling them -BEWILDERING & -EXTEMPORANEOUS. i happen to think they’re not that bad! they’re a pretty cool PARANORMAL INVESTIGATOR and every time i’ve seen them, they’ve always been +BEWITCHING & +UNBIASED. i hope i see them around again!

hi everyone! i’m nico and i am so happy to be here. it’s been so long since i’ve played theo and i’ve been searching for a place she’d fit in for ages. i apologize for the length of my intro and fully do not expect anyone to actually read the entire thing but if you do and you like what you read, don’t hesitate to give it a like or send me a message to plot!

trigger warnings; parental death, murder, sexual assault, abuse, alcohol, drugs

S T A T I S T I C S

full name : theodora jane kennedy nickname: theo, t.j, teddy to a select few date of birth : september 1, 1999 age : twenty-one height : 5′1″ sexuality : pansexual relationship status : taken by sonny deluca children : river and regan deluca, twins, nearly two years old. occupation : paranormal investigator for ghost adventures aesthetic : dried blood, cigarette smoke, spilled red wine, ripped jeans over fishnets, abandoned houses, late night walks through cemeteries, combat boots, smudged mascara, bruised skin, leather jackets, old film cameras, black lipstick, nightmares, dried out flowers.

P E R S O N A L I T Y

positive traits : bewitching, unbiased, passionate negative traits : bewildering, extemoraneous, impulsive likes : the occult, rebellion, horror movies, the smell of fall, cinnamon dislikes : pizza, romcoms, gender norms, willy wonka, early mornings myer-briggs : ISFP enneagram : type 8

B I O G R A P H Y

╰ ‘ theodora kennedy was born on september 1, 1999 in a small town on long island, new york to a young couple. daniel and christina kennedy already had a six year old son when they welcomed their daughter into the world and although she had not been planned, they were happy to have her. for the first five years of her life, theo had everything, but that all changed on christmas eve of 2004.

╰ ‘ what they thought was an attempted robbery gone wrong left the kennedy family broken. as theo and her older brother hid in the closet and watched from the crack between the door and the frame, christina was shot 4 times repeatedly and left dead. — it would take one whole year for authorities to find out that her own husband was responsible for it.

╰ ‘ no, daniel kennedy didn’t pull the trigger. and no, he didn’t break into his own house but his past life of crime brought upon the tragedy. before meeting and setting down with christina, daniel had been involved in a sketchy lifestyle — drugs, alcohol, parties and crime. he bought, he dealt, he stole and he owed a lot of money. when he didn’t meet his deadline he was warned what would happen, and they had been true to their word. if he couldn’t offer them the money they would take something else, something money couldn’t buy. his wife, and the mother to his two children.

╰ ‘ that christmas was a dark one. there were no celebrations and the kids didn’t open their presents. the new year just brought dread and slowly the kennedy’s began to spiral. daniel began to fall back into his olf lifestyle of partying and crime as a coping mechanism. he became involved with the wrong people once more, people he called ‘old friends’ and more times than not his son jack, who was only eleven at the time, was left to care for his sister, theo.

╰ ‘ the death of a mother would be hard for anyone, but witnessing it had really ruined theodora. she stopped socializing, stopped speaking. her father still swears that she didn’t speak a single word for 3 years, and that may have been true. night terrors and flash backs took over her once pleasant dreams.

╰ ‘ after falling back into his prior way of life, mr. kennedy found himself unemployed. it was really no surprise, he would miss shifts at the auto body shop and when he did show up he was under the influence of something and incapable of doing much of anything and with no steady income, they lost their house. however, with every storm comes a rainbow and although they lost nearly everything they did get to move in with daniel’s parents, theo’s grandparents who she absolutely adored.

╰ ‘ grandma and grandpa kennedy weren’t your everyday grandparents. they didn’t knit blankets and play bingo, no, they owned the town funeral home, situated on a graveyard and lived atop of it. grandpa was a funeral director and grandma a mortician. while daniel had grown up in the funeral home, he wasn’t much phased and his new habits left him home rarely. jack hated it. he avoided the parlor at all costs and refused to tell his friends where it was he was living but theo had never felt more comfortable, surrounded by death.

╰ ‘ at only six, she began tagging along with her grandparents while they worked. she learned how to embalm bodies and prepare them for their final rest. of course her interest in the dead and the fact that she lived in a funeral home was a subject of ridicule in school. even in kindergarten she was picked on for it. she instantaneously became the ‘weird girl’. as she got older the bullying got worse, but it made her tough. she didn’t need friends, she had her interests to keep her busy and she liked to believe the dead were her friends. she’d often spend time in the morgue or out in the cemetery, making up lives in her head for the deceased and searching for answers.

╰ ‘ her interest in the occult began very early. she loved anything mysterious and dark. her first report in elementary school was on ed and lorraine warren, her biggest inspirations even back then and ever since she has longed to be the next lorraine. her intuition to the dead is strong and her sensitivity is high. she was told early on by a psychic friend of her grandparents that she had a gift and although they told her that she would one day be able to use it to help the living, she knew right away she wanted to use it to help the dead — the souls not at rest.

╰ ‘ by sixteen theo’s relationship with her father was nonexistent. he was absent most of her life, in and out of jail and always under the influence of drugs. and when he was around, he was abusive. she spent her whole life fearing him and while her brother jack strived to be everything their father was not, to make him proud, theo found herself slowly becoming everything her father was. she was skipping school to smoke in the cemetery and drinking alcohol from her fathers stash alone in her room. she tried to drown out her demons by self medicating. she found herself at house parties and in strangers beds regularly. she was her own worst nightmare. she was becoming the person her peers had made her out to be, a monster. she was mean and bitter and mad at the world, and so very young.

╰ ‘ at seventeen her world turned upside down one more time. a small town murder made the news and left the locals panicked. was there a serial killer on the loose? were they in danger? would the killer ever get caught? a witness met with the police and a sketch was made of the suspect and shared with the world via the local news — and theo knew instantly who it was. she had spent the last week hearing about the brutal murder of a young seventeen year old girl. she had been drugged, sexually assaulted and eventually choked to death. it was ugly and it was inhuman — and it was her father. she was sure of it. with shaky hands and the approval of her grandparents, she called the police and reported her father. after 3 months and a very long trial, he was sentenced to life in prison and for the first time in years, she could finally breathe.

╰ ‘ at eighteen, theodora applied for an internship with the ghost adventures team in vegas and by some miracle she was accepted. it only took six months for them to welcome her to the team full time, making her the youngest member of the crew. she found a family in her ghost adventures crew, looking up to zak bagans like the father figure she never had. her new job and new found family really helped pull her away from the dark path she was going down.

╰ ‘ she soon after moved to vegas, the glitz and glam and partying was dangerous and tempting but her work crew did their best to steer her in the right direction, it was there — in vegas that theo met sonny deluca.

╰ ‘ sonny showed up at theo’s door one morning with his mission partner, asking to talk to her about the book of mormon. one day later he showed back up alone. four days later he was leaving his mission and moving in. it happened quick and they fell fast. theo didn’t think she was capable of loving anyone, especially not in the way that she loves sonny. it only took four days for him to knock down her walls and expose her soft interior.

╰ ‘ it did not take very long into their relationship to learn that they were expecting, not just one baby but twins. both scared and excited, they decided to keep the babies and make the impulsive decision to move. mapleview was their destination, the perfect place to raise a family. they got a house and prepared for the birth of their children.

╰ ‘ still together, sonny and theo now have a set of twins, almost two year old son, river and daughter regan. they are the light of theo’s life and everyday she strives to be better for their sake. without her family, she would be in a very bad place. she’s positive of it.

#mapleviewintro #tw: death #tw: murder #tw: alchohol mention #tw: abuse

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prolestariwrites · 5 years ago

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Time To Go [7]: Devil Boys And Devil Arms

Fandom: Devil May Cry Rating: M Characters: Nero, Dante, Vergil, Kyrie, Nico, Trish, Morrison Tags: Mystery, Humor, Missing Person, First Time, Family Drama, Family Bonding, Post-Canon Chapter: 7/9 Chapter [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6]

Summary: When Kyrie goes missing, Nero goes on a desperate search to find her. Unfortunately, Dante and Vergil go too. Sparda boys shenanigans, fighting demons, a smattering of family drama, and male bonding (otherwise known as Nero’s worst nightmare). Please check it out below, or you can read on FFNet or AO3. Beta read by @copper-wasp.

Now posted! Chapter 7: Devil Boys And Devil Arms, in which the boys learn the truth about Kyrie's disappearance and decide to suit up... if Nico doesn't kill them first.

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Dante’s eyes narrow as he watches the screen. It is her, on a grainy security camera, standing on a corner and waiting for the light to change. He recognizes the flower shop behind her, one he passes by in Fortuna on the times he’s headed over there, and he swallows thickly when she glances upwards as if looking at them. The film plays without sound as she checks her phone and lifts it to her ear. Then a van pulls up, the back opening, and Dante’s blood turns cold as he watches a man exit out the back and drags Kyrie inside, her mouth open in a silent scream. The light changes and the van peels away, the back door slamming shut with the force, and Morrison pauses the video.

“It’s not demons at all,” Dante sighs.

“Nope,” Morrison replies. “Just your regular, run-of-the-mill greedy ass humans.”

“We don’t know that for sure,” Nero says sharply, glaring at Morrison. “How did you get this?”

Morrison shrugs. “You needed help. I delivered.” Then his mouth curves a bit wryly. “You can just make out the license plate. Easy enough to get an address. You want it?” He nods towards the door. “I brought a car.”

Nero looks at the others, and Dante lets go a slow breath, waiting for the kid to decide. If it is humans, that changes everything—and if he’s being honest, Dante doesn’t know what they should do. Killing demons is one thing; he never was good with humans.

“Let’s go,” Nero says through gritted teeth.

Morrison’s car is an old-fashioned town car, well-loved and well-cared for. Dante climbs in the front as Morrison starts it up, and they pull out of the parking lot with a squeal of the tires. He heads towards Fortuna, the world around them a deep gray as it waits for the sun to start to rise.

“Are you disappointed it isn’t demons, Nero?” Morrison asks.

Nero huffs in the backseat. “We don’t know for sure it’s not demons. Or people working for demons.”

“Nico said that there are plenty of people after Kyrie,” Dante muses. He leans an elbow on the window and taps a finger to his lips thoughtfully. “Might be old Order leftovers after all.”

“It doesn’t make sense,” Nero insists. “Kyrie was doing so much good for everyone. No one in the Order blamed her for what happened, and neither did the city. I don’t believe Nico, no one was after her. This has to be demons trying to get to me.”

Dante glances over his shoulder. “I don’t know. I’ve known a lot of shitty people.”

“This is why I don’t care for humans,” Vergil sighs. Dante smiles humorlessly and shakes his head. “What?” Vergil snaps. “At least with demons you know what to expect. Humans can look like one thing and be another. Not worth the trouble.”

“That’s stupid,” Nero mutters. “Kyrie is human. So is Morrison. So am I.”

Vergil snorts. “Not completely.”

“You always like shooting that back at me, don’t you?” growls Nero. Dante rubs his face at the sudden sharpness in his tone; just when the kid was finally calming down and focusing, Vergil gets under his skin again, innocently or not.

“That you’re half-demon?” Vergil challenges. “You are.”

Nero’s hand clenches into a fist. “Quarter. My mother was human.”

“There is more than enough of Sparda’s blood in you,” replies Vergil.

“Well I didn’t ask for that!”

“You say that a lot, you know. It gets old,” Vergil complains, Dante listening with a growing aggravation. “We all know how you came to be.”

“As if I had a choice,” mutters Nero.

“None of us were dealt the life we would have chosen. But unlike you, the rest of us deal with it.”

Nero folds his arms with a pout. “Easy for you to say. You don’t know shit about my life, since you left it.”

Vergil lets out a low growl. “How long will you be punishing me for that? I didn’t know.”

“You say that a lot,” Nero snaps. “It gets old.”

“You—”

“Hey, lay off,” Dante says gruffly.

Nero’s mouth twists into a smile. “Yeah, lay off.”

Dante turns around from the front seat and narrows his eyes. “Not him. You. You need to get over all this shit.”

“What?” Nero gapes.

He points his finger at Nero, trying to keep his temper in check. “Stop blaming Vergil for everything. He didn’t know about you. And yeah he’s a pain in the ass and a prick and will probably end up fucking everything up—”

“Thanks,” Vergil mutters.

“—but he didn’t. Fucking. Know.” Dante leans his arm over the back of the seat and Nero shrinks back. “But he knows now. We both do. And you don’t give me half the shit you give him. So lay off.”

Nero doesn’t respond to the chastisement, turning to look out the window with a scowl. Vergil is as seemingly nonplussed as ever, which also annoys him. “And you’re such an asshat,” Dante sighs. “Kid is scared, anyone can see that. He loves Kyrie and she’s missing. He just watched her get taken away, and that hurts like hell. At least pretend you care.”

“I know he loves her. He says it every two minutes.” Vergil leans forward, looking Dante straight in the eye. “I’m sick of being blamed for every problem he has. Nero needs to grow up.”

“He has grown up! You’d see that if you’d open your damn eyes,” counters Dante. “He’s got kids at home and a family and it’s a fuck ton more than either you or I have. And he did it on his own.”

“He’s not the only one who has been on his own,” argues Vergil.

Anger swells inside Dante, his fingers digging into the leather seat. “We were both on our own.”

“It made us stronger,” Vergil states matter-of-factly.

“Are you saying you wouldn’t change anything?” Dante practically shouts. “If you could go back, you would have still wanted to be alone?”

Vergil rolls his eyes. “What a moronic question. We can’t go back, so what is the point of asking?”

“The point is that you still haven’t learned a damn thing.”

“Okay, enough,” Nero says. He puts his hand out as if to keep the two apart, the change in him surprising Dante. His expression is almost pleading, his voice tight. “You guys have done nothing but argue since we started. Can you just… just can it already?” His lips press together into a thin line. “We gotta get to Kyrie. And…” Nero clears his throat. “I’m sorry for snapping at you both. I really am. We gotta do this together, and we can’t be fighting.”

There is a long silence, and once again Dante finds himself trying to figure out what to say; but again, before he can think of something, Vergil says, “We haven’t fought the whole time. Don’t exaggerate.”

“Yeah,” Dante laughs. “And besides, we’re fighting about you. You should be happy we care enough.”

Nero glances between them incredulously. “You’re both so fucked up.”

The brothers both start to laugh, and Dante laughs even harder when he sees Nero’s confused look. “Yeah, but aren’t families supposed to be fucked up?”

“Mine isn’t,” Morrison says.

Dante groans and slides down a bit in his seat, stretching as best as he can. “Pipe down and drive,” he mumbles, smiling when Vergil snorts behind him.

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They are a few miles from Fortuna when Dante says, “Let’s go to Red Grave City first. We can load up at the shop.”

Morrison takes the next exit and weaves through the early morning streets, mostly empty as the sun is just rising. Nero climbs out of the car and follows in last, thinking about how he had rushed in there maybe twelve hours before, frantic to find Kyrie. It will be almost twenty-four hours since whoever those guys are had taken her, and he can still hear her voice, soft and insistent and afraid on the phone.

“Let’s go,” Dante says, leading them inside.

Nero is surprised to find Nico there, half-dozing on the couch. She jumps up when Dante calls over, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and stretching.

“What are you doing here?” he asks as he strides over. “What about the kids?”

“They’re fine, don’t worry.” She glances over her shoulder where Dante and Vergil move around the shop, pulling items from the wall and from inside various furniture. “I figured you’d end up here, so I took a cab over and brought Red Queen. And I wanted to get the latest, see if I could help.”

“Thanks, but you should go home and get some sleep,” Nero says gruffly.

He turns to walk away but Nico grabs his arm. “No way! How am I supposed to sleep when Kyrie is missing?” Nero pauses when he hears the slight catch in her voice. “I care about her too. Do you know where she is yet? You have to, if you’re here, right?”

“Morrison has a lead,” he sighs. “He thinks it’s humans, but just in case, we’re gearing up.”

Nico nods. “I can drive.”

“Actually…” Nero rubs the back of his neck, his expression sheepish. “We had some trouble with the van.”

“Trouble?” Nico’s eyes narrow into dangerous slits. “What trouble?”

“Nothing you can’t fix!” He tries to sound cheery as he claps her on the arm. But his fatigue makes his nerves feel thin, and when Nico doesn’t relent he sighs. “The van is… kind of wrecked.”

“Wrecked!” she shouts. “What about my things? My work? What did you do?”

“They’re fine, I promise!” He puts up his hands as Nico starts to advance on him. “We got attacked by some demons and had to get out of there fast, and something must have blown—”

“Where is the van now?” she growls.

Nero gives a little shrug. “We left it on the highway. I’ll get it towed, don’t worry.”

Nico sighs loudly. “It’s fine. When you’re done you can run me up there, and I should be able to figure it out and fix it. Don’t want no tow truck driver poking through my stuff anyway.”

“Yeah, I don’t know if you’re gonna be able to fix it that easy. I kinda got mad and…” He drops his head and moans, “I fucked up, okay? Seems to be what I do best.”

Nico grinds her teeth as she looks at him furiously, before finally rolling her eyes. She puts her hands on her hips and snaps, “Stop being such a pussy. Man up and get Kyrie back.” Then she pauses, sucking in a sharp breath, before saying quietly, “We need her.”

He glances up to catch Nico’s lip trembling slightly, which is more alarming than he wants to admit. “Keep it together,” he mumbles, and Nico laughs.

“So if I’m not driving, what can I do?” she asks. Before she can answer, she looks over Nero’s shoulder, then gasps and pushes him out of the way. “Wait! What are you doing with those?”

Nero turns to see Vergil and Dante carrying armfuls of weapons, dropping them unceremoniously on the floor. “What the hell?” Nico cries. She crouches down on the ground, glaring up at the two men viciously. “You can’t treat these weapons like this!”

“Most of them used to be demons,” replies Dante as he scratches his head. “Pretty indestructible.”

“Ugh, you don’t know anything,” she scoffs. Nero folds his arms as she starts sorting through the Devil Arms, amused by her exasperation. “These are more than works of art—they’re living weapons! You can’t sling ‘em around like a sack of potatoes!”

Nero snorts as Dante and Vergil exchange a look. “We need to go kick some ass,” Dante says in explanation.

She shoots a sharp stare at them both. “I’ll kick your ass if you don’t pipe down for a minute while I figure this out.”

Nico returns to her sorting, while Dante grumbles. “She used to be a fan of mine, you know,” he says to Vergil.

Vergil looks decidedly unimpressed. “Hard to believe that. The girl obviously knows what she’s talking about.” Nero spies how he watches Nico, his lips pressing together as he sees an idea that could only mean trouble sparking behind Vergil’s eyes. “I’ve been saying for months that I should have these items, not Dante. Don’t you agree? Nico, wasn’t it?”

Nero is about to object when Nico stands, hands on her hips. “Neither of you deserve this stuff. These should be in a museum or something.” Vergil scowls at her, but Nico ignores him and continues, “But none of this is gonna do you any good anyway. You can’t fight humans with this stuff. It’ll be a bloodbath.”

“Maybe we want a bloodbath,” Vergil argues.

“We don’t want a bloodbath,” says Dante.

“I wouldn’t mind a bloodbath,” replies Vergil with a shrug.

“Well I know you wouldn’t but—”

“Okay, okay,” Nero interrupts. “Nico, what do we do then?”

She considers a moment before giving him a sideways glance. “You boys are pretty… big. Just use your fists.”

Vergil frowns deeply at the idea, but Dante grins and rubs his hands together. “Yeah, now we’re talking! Get a little one-two action going on.” He starts to hop from one foot to the other, pretending to jab at Vergil’s arm, bobbing and weaving like a boxer. “Kick some ass the old fashioned way.”

Nero hides a chuckle as Morrison joins them. “Got the address,” he says, holding up his little notepad. “You boys ready?”

“Who is it?” Nero asks.

Morrison flips it open. “Traced the plate to an owner, last known address just outside of Fortuna.” He nods to Nico. “Looks like your girl was on the money.”

Nico looks smug but Nero feels a surge of anger. Kyrie had been there the whole time, as he was running from city to city chasing after nothing? “What’s the name?” he demands.

“Mammon,” Morrison says.

“Mammon?” Nico tilts her head. “I know that name.” Nero’s brows go up as he watches her think. “I read it in my asshole old man’s stuff.”

“One of the Order?” Nero growls.

Slowly she shakes her head. “No. Mammon was a demon in his research.”

Nico gives him a pained look, and Nero feels his blood go cold. “Looks like we’re gonna need those Devil Arms after all,” he says.

#dmc #devil may cry #dmc dante #dmc vergil #dmc nero #dante sparda #nero sparda #vergil sparda #dmc nico #dmc morrison #nerokiri #myfic #time to go #why am i always so nervous posting these lol

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c0ffeebee · 5 years ago

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naturally I have to ask Jace, you see

angel boy 💛

OTP for them: sebjace

BROTP for them: jace x alec x izzy x max (book max tho, we don't stan no annoying little twats who say things like "you are not my real brother" here in this house)

Other ships: jalec, jimon

What kind of fic I’d write about them: 70k long au in which he brings sebastian back to life for the second time and binds them again and it's all really bad and fucked up but with happy end? it's what i've been writing for the last 3 years, i also love dark stuff where he chooses sebastian's side voluntarily (that i wrote too already), then also kid fics with him and sebastian raising little ash together (that i have too), police au in which he and sebastian are partners and no one's happy about it (also written already), then a fic where he and seb are together for like five years but he looses all memory of it because of the memory demon (alec looses his memory of magnus and their kids which is even more painful) and then when jace slowly realizes who sebastian is it all goes to hell, modern au where it's the night before jace and clary are supposed to get married and all the guys go to vegas for his bachelor party and clary beggs him to take sebastian away with them (jace hates sebastian and is not interested) because he might ruin her party if he stays and it all ends with sebjace getting really drunk and getting married and fucking their brains out and waking up in the same bad and the rest is a disaster, also au where everyone is alive and happy and saphael, sebjace, malec and clizzy go on summer vacation together, also 20s au with bartender jace and musician sebastian where seb turns out to be a cold blooded son of a mafia boss and his name is actually jonathan and the bar where jace is working actually belongs to his father valentine who is also kind of a father figure for jace and it's all complicated, all of it is in my drafts, i have like 10-20 fic ideas for them completely planned but i'm sure i will just finish this one i'm writing and that's gonna be it, wow that got... long

A favorite canon moment: his first meeting with sebastian after their bond was severed and realizing how much he actually misses what they had, him going to talk to magnus about magnus's break up with alec and after seeing how magnus pretends he doesn't care and receiving a call from maryse? (i think it was her) when magnus asks is alec alright that cold "what do you care?" honestly? i was like YES YOU TELL HIM MY BOY! him living with simon? him and sebastian findings demon pornography in the institutie's library? that kiss from sebastian? god so many moments

Color that reminds me of them: golden and white

Song that reminds me of them: believer by imagine dragons, chopin nocturne no. 20, half god half devil by in this moment, fairly local by twenty one pilots, set me free by nico collins, the angel by the weeknd and honestly like half of my playlist

A headcanon about them: jace and sebastian were brought back to life after dying by the lake lyn the same night as the balance between light and dark and now that sebastian is dead again the balance is fucked so death is following jace every step of the way waiting to collect what's hers

A random AU I think up on the spot for them: i've talked a lot about aus already but ok, au in which valentine introduced jace and sebastian to each other and made them parabatai before he staged his death

Anything else: god shtv treated this character so badly, they took everything from him, he deserved to be the focus of the story at some point and to have his storyline with sebastian, lilith runes and heavenly fire, it's his storyline and it still has so much impact on the book plot, it's still not over

#bee answers #jace whatever #jace herondale #the mortal instruments

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sleander-red · 5 years ago

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a lyric from every twenty one pilots song ever

Self Titled

"I mean no disrespect, I am simply very perplexed by your ways. Why wouldn't you let us use your name?" -Implicit Demand for Proof

"I don't know if I am dying or living." -Fall Away

"He's seen too many stare downs between the sun and the moon. " -The Pantaloon

"I've been traveling in the deserts of my mind and I haven't found a drop of life. " -Addict With a Pen

"I know you want to leave, but friend, please don't take your life away from me. " -Friend, Please

"No one looks up anymore because you might get a raindrop in your eye, and heaven forbid they see you cry as we fall in line. " -March to the Sea

"Get up 'cause the world has left you lying on the ground. " -Johnny Boy

"We get colder as we grow older. We will walk so much slower. " -Oh Ms Believer

"I think you would beat the moon in a pretty contest, and the moon just happened to be the very first thing that I missed. "-Air Catcher

"Nothing kills a man faster than his own head. " -Trapdoor

"It held your heart for me to walk away with. I began to understand why God died. " -A Car, a Torch, a Death

"Sometimes we will die and sometimes we will fly away; either way you're by my side until my dying days. " -Taxi Cab

"Look in the mirror and ask your soul if you're all right. " -Before You Start Your Day

"If we wake up every morning and decide what we believe, we can take apart our very heart and the light will set us free. " -Isle of Flightless Birds

Regional At Best

"We're going too fast, fast; save us now. " -Slowtown

"I don't want to be heard, I want to be listened to. " -Forest

"We are all stranger creatures than when we started out as kids. " -Glowing Eyes

"No one else is dealing with your demons, meaning maybe defeating them could be the beginning of your meaning, friend. " -Kitchen Sink

"I wanna be afraid but it seems that these days I'm caught under water. " -Anathema

"It's hard to tell the difference between blood and water these days. " -Lovely

"You're an angel fallen down. Won't you tell us of the clouds? You have fallen from the sky. How high?" -Ruby

"I can feel your breath. I can feel my death. I want to know you. I want to see. I want to say hello." -Trees

"Trust is damaged and now we panic, living empty handed. " -Be Concerned

"I'm the son of all I've done; impostor, been fostered, then my new father drained my dirty blood." -Clear

Vessel

"Why won't you let me go? Do I threaten all your plans, I'm insignificant. " -Ode to Sleep

"Tie a noose around your mind loose enough to breathe fine and tie it to a tree. Tell it 'You belong to me, this ain't a noose, this is a leash. And I have news for you: you must obey me. '"- Holding On To You

"Sometimes to stay alive you gotta kill your mind. " -Migraine

"Since we know that dreams are dead and life turns plans up on their heads, I will plan to be a bum so I just might become someone. " -House of Gold

"Peace will win and fear will lose. " -Car Radio

"When the sun is climbing window sills and the silver lining rides the hills, I will be saved for one whole day, until the sun makes the hills its grave." -Semi Automatic

"While you're doing fine, there's some people and I who have a real tough time getting through this life, so excuse us while we sing to the sky." -Screen

"You'll have to watch me struggle from several rooms away, but tonight I need you to stay. " -The Run and Go

"What kids are doing, they're killing themselves. They feel they have no control of their prisoner's cell. And if you're one of them then you're one of me, and you would do almost anything just to feel free. " -Fake You Out

"There's hope out the window, so that's where we'll go. " -Guns for Hands

"The sun will rise and we will try again. " -Truce

Blurryface

"Death inspires me like a dog inspires a rabbit. " -Heavydirtysoul

"Out of student loans and tree house homes, we all would take the latter. " -Stressed Out

"I've been thinking too much, help me. " -Ride

"The world around us is burning, but we're so cold. " -Fairly Local

"Sometimes you gotta bleed to know that you're alive and have a soul. " -Tear in My Heart

"Don't trust a perfect person and don't trust a song that's flawless. " -Lane Boy

"I'm a pro at imperfections and I'm best friends with my doubt. " -The Judge

"Fear might be the death of me; fear leads to anxiety. " -Doubt

"Polarize is taking your disguises, separating them. Splitting them up from wrong and right. It's deciding where to die and deciding where to fight. " -Polarize

"I used to say I want to die before I'm old, but because of you I might think twice. " -We Don't Believe What's On TV

"Together we're losers. Remember the future. Remember the morning is when night is dead. " -Message Man

"Where we're from, there's no sun. Our hometown's in the dark. We're we're from, we're no one. " -Hometown

"I look outside and see a whole world better off without me in it." -Not Today

"Though I'm weak and beaten down I'll slip away into this sound." -Goner

"Welcome to the room of people who have rooms of people that they loved one day, docked away. " -Heathens

Trench

"I'll be right there but you'll have to grab my throat and lift me in the air. If you need anyone, I'll stop my plans, but you'll have to tie me down and then break both my hands. " -Jumpsuit

"This culture is a poacher of overexposure. " -Levitate

"Can't stop thinking about if and when I'll die, for now I see that "if" and "when" are truly different cries, for "if" is purely panic and "when" is solemn sorrow, and one invades today while the other spies tomorrow. " -Morph

"When everyone you thought you knew deserts your fight, I'll go with you. " -My Blood

"Now different lives I lead, my body lives on lead. The last two lines may read incorrect until said. " -Chlorine

"For you, I would get beat to smithereens. " -Smithereens

"Promise me this: if I lose to myself, you won't mourn a day, and you'll move on to someone else. " -Neon Gravestones

"You don't get thick skin without getting burnt. " -The Hype

"We'll win, but not everyone will get out. " -Nico and the Niners

"Though I'm bruised, face of contusions, know I'll keep moving. " -Cut My Lip

"This is the sound we make when in between two places: where we used to bleed and where our blood needs to be. " -Bandito

"I can feel pressure start to possess my mind, so I'll take this beat I should delete to exercise. " -Pet Cheetah

"You're a legend in my own mind. " -Legend

"In time I will leave the city. For now, I will stay alive. " -Leave the City

#twenty one pilots #tøp #tøp clique #lyrics #emo music #music #bandom

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sevi007 · 6 years ago

Text

A hat makes (no) cowboy

So some of you might remember how a comment a la “Dante sure wanted to be a cowboy as a kid, look at his newest weapon” by myself turned into @rex101111 and me writin half a story about Dante, his hat, one god-awful cowboy accent and mostly Lady suffering from it.

Well, that half-story is now a full story, and it took some... interesting turns ;)

Fandom: Devil May Cry

Rating: Teen and up Audiences / Gen

Summary: One hat, a joking comment and Dante being, well, Dante, that’s all it takes to turn one quiet afternoon at the Devil May Cry shop into a war. In the end, nobody can say they are really surprised by the situation itself... just by what they might discover because of it.

Read it on AO3

"GOTCHA!"

With one final swing, Dante sent the last of the demons flying into a wall. Their forms quickly fell apart at the seams and turned to dust, leaving behind only the impression on the concrete. Dante reached out a hand, making a beckoning motion, before a red streak flew from the broken wall and into his palm with a quite buzz.

"That thing is pretty impressive." Lady commented dryly as she yanked her bayonet from a pron Frost, looking at Dante from the corner of her eye. "You know...for a hat."

Dante placed the hat on his head with a quick flick of his finger and a light smirk. "I like it! It's got a load of style to it."

Lady scoffed, "style wouldn't be the word I'd use but-"

"Yeah!" Nico interrupted suddenly, peaking her head out from a pile of grey, twitching limbs with a giddy smirk. "It kinda makes ya look like a cowboy!"

Dante freezes, and whips his head to face the direction of Nico's voice. "Really?"

"Yeah really! Straight out of an Eastwood film, dude!"

Dante blinked his eyes numbly for a few seconds, the idea slowly rolling around in his head, before his face lit up like a blinking land mine and a manic smirk dominated his features. "Well, ain't that a hoot n' a half..."

Lady groaned, already knowing what was to come. "Now look what you did!"

"Did what?"

"It seems that our work here is finished." Dante said of a sudden, his voice starting out normal before slowly shifting, inching towards what can only be called a drawl. "But, we can't rest our head yet, pardners. There are always more outlaws for us to corral before they get up to no good."

Lady rubbed her temples and took in a very quick, sharp breath. "Okay, I can see where this is going." She claps twice in mock praise as a scowl grows on her face. "Hardy-har Dante, you got a hat and you're a cowboy good for you." She pointed behind her to the pile of dead demons. "Now let's pack up and get to the client so we get payed."

"Now hold on there Missy!" Dante pointed dramatically at her, the other hand placed on the top of his hat as if to hold in place against some nonexistent wind. "You wouldn't happen to be questioning my authority on this matter now?" He made a gun motion with his outstretched hand in mock threat that made Lady want to roll her eyes right out of her head. "Because if you are...there might be some consequences to it."

"Dante for the love of God you can't be serious-"

It was too late, Dante had fully committed to his newly adopted western inspired persona, fanning out the end of his coat in a manner meant to be impressive (which failed miserably) before once more pointing at her, this time with even more dramatic gravitas. "Them's fighting words! You leave me no choice pardner..." He lifts the brim of his hat with his second hand and grins with all of his teeth at her, “Pistols at noon! You and me cowpoke!”

Lady stared at him without a word for a whole two minutes.

And then she shot him in the head.

And then she walked over to him, where he was still grumbling about how much that stung, and yanked the damn hat off of his head and started stomping on it despite his protests.

She shot it a couple of times too for good measure.

Dante picked up the remains of his poor, abused, hat, cut down in the prime of its life, “Why?”

Lady stared him dead in the face, expression stone still, “I made a vow to destroy evil.”

Silence.

“Also, you’re annoying enough without having an excuse to talk with that godawful western accent.”

He waited, (clearly not pouting, he was a grown man, he did not pout, thank you very much) until Lady seemed to be out of earshot, before he leaned over to Nico. The girl had witnessed the whole spectacle from where she had been digging through the rubble left by Lady’s latest hunt, looking for scraps of demons the older woman had torn apart with her attacks that she could use in her newest weapon creation.

Now the young woman was barely holding in the loud laughter threatening to spill, but managed an inquiring noise as she caught his gaze.

“Do you think you can fix this up?”

A smothered sound, a giggle, and then a cleared throat before she became stern again. “Count on me, cowboy!”

Dante’s grin went from ear to ear as he put on his best (worst) drawl. “Don’t know what I would do without ya, lassie!”

Nico snorted, a loud, delighted noise. “Oh my god, you’re worse than grandma told me.”

“That a good thing?”

“The best. Now give me that mistreated thingy, I’m gonna make it better than it ever was.”

“Off you go,” Dante paused, considered, “Make it more durable, perhaps?”

“Demon-durable or Lady-durable?”

“Both. Mostly the later.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ D ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lady had never felt such utter and complete betrayal in her entire life from another human being (except the obvious, of course) as she stared at the offending headwear, patched up and reinforced with carbon fiber of all things.

Dante sauntered over, thumbs in the waist of his pants and a tooth pick in his mouth - oh for the love of god were those spurs on his shoes - and grinned so smugly she was tempted to shoot him in the teeth on principal alone.

“Well howdy there pardner.” His grin grew when one of Lady’s eyes twitched. “Fancy seeing you around these parts.” He pointed up to his hat. “I see you eyeballin’ my hat, purdy ain’t it?”

“Dante for the love of God that’s a fucking trucker accent-”

“Now I know you must be hankerin’ to bust it up like before,” He continued, ignoring her, “but you should know-”

Lady whipped out one of her machine guns, and unloaded the entire magazine directly into that vile piece of leather and demonic metal.

Damn thing didn’t even flinch.

“-My associate here gave it an upgrade.” He pointed to Nico, who was standing by his side this whole time, nearly bent over in held back laughter.

“Bullet proof hat!” She exclaimed at Lady, eyes shining with excitement, “I love working with you guys I never would have thought of this one.”

“You,” Lady started, eyes digging through Nico as well as any bullet, “are a traitor to the whole of humanity.”

“Oh relax.” Nico waved her off with little care. “Just let the man have his dumb fun, besides I made this thing 100% Lady-proof, there ain’t a damn thing you can do to it to damage or destroy it.”

Lady raised an eyebrow, holstered her machine gun, and reached back to put a hand on Kalina Ann.

“…Except that maybe.”

Dante whipped his head to Nico, “You forgot about the damn rocket launcher!?”

“She has like twenty different guns!” Nico protested, panic seeping into her voice. “How do you expect me to keep track!?”

“Nico.” Lady intoned mildly, aiming the large barrel of her prized weapon directly at Dante’s face. “Take ten steps back.”

Nico took one look at the bazooka, than another look at Dante, switching between the two a few more times before turning on her heel and legging it.

“Later partner!”

“Lady was right! You ARE a traitor!”

A soft click of a trigger reached Dante’s sensitive ears.

“Oh dagnabbit.”

A massive explosion rocked the immediate area, sending plumes of smoke and fire into the air along with a few chunks of concrete, charred black from the blast.

Lady put Kalina Ann back on the strap on her back, crossed her arms, and nodded her head in satisfaction, “The evil is defeated.” She yelled into the smoke cloud where Dante was standing, probably grumbling about his lost hat. “Let that be a lesson to you! You should always know when to let a joke die.”

She turned away to get to the nearest bar in order to drink the memory of this nonsense out of her head as soon as possible…when she heard a few surprised peals of laughter.

“Well, waddya know!” Dante stepped out of the smoke cloud, outfit scorched and ruined, with more than a few wounds rapidly healing on his skin…

And the hat in his hand, utterly unscathed.

“She really did make it Lady-proof!"

Lady’s eye twitched again as she gaped at the utter ridiculousness of what she was looking at, before she growled and walked away with an angry stomp.

“Aww, what’s the matter? Giving up?”

“I’m getting Trish!”

“Woah nelly….”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ D ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“… so I might have pissed her off a little bit with that and what do you reckon are the chances that she’s going to shoot me if the hat doesn’t get destroyed in that one?”

“Girl,” Trish offered, raising one hand to quell the flood of words that had tumbled out of Nico’s mouth in too little time and what seemed to be a single breath. “Lady might shoot a lot of things in a day, and shoot Dante a whole lot more on top of that, but she’s not going to shoot you. No matter what she said.”

Nico lifted an eyebrow at her, looking somewhere between insecure, relieved and amused at Trish’s nonchalance. “You, ah, sure? She seemed a bit in a bad mood right there….”

“Quite,” Trish’s smile widened as she took a sip of the wine Morrison had brought with him from a quick shopping trip. Her fine senses picked up the heady flavor (bless the man for knowing something about drinks) and the nearing sound of footsteps and arguing all in one second. “Now you might want to step back and enjoy the show.”

Nico’s eyes widened, a grin twitched around her lips, and she dived behind Trish and the desk just as the door to the shop basically flew open.

“TRISH!”

“Trish don’t let her destroy it again!”

In a flurry of motions and colors, Lady, fuming and flushed, burst into the room, Dante hot on her heels – the latter’s clothes smoking and torn, together with the last hints of paling scars telling stories about the explosion he had taken point-blank.

And there, on top of his head, Trish spotted the offending hat that had apparently started a little war between friends.

Not what she would have gone for when it came to fashion, she noted, but looking far too innocently for it to be the source of all this.

Then again, she knew her friends well enough that that was an actual possibility.

With a blink, she observed with some amusement that the two fractions hadn’t even waited until they had her attention until they started squabbling.

“… and no offence, if this hat doesn’t go immediately, I swear I will find the nearest Hellgate and throw this idiot in there myself…”

“Now you’re really hurting my feelings here, Lady!”

“Your feelings? You’re hurting my everything with this, from my sensibilities to my ears up to my brain cells, every time you open your mouth ever since you put that thing on!”

“It’s hilarious, you just don’t understand good humor.”

“You wouldn’t even know good humor if it bit you in the…”

“Children,” Trish drawled, interrupting them even though this was getting really fun right there. She could hear Nico’s choked off laughter behind her, but didn’t turn to look at it. “What did we say about dragging me into your arguments?”

There was a beat of silence, before Lady pointed at the cowboy hat. “Destroy it please.”

“Hey!” Dante protested, putting one hand protectively over the beloved accessory.

“Destroy it now. Banish the evil.”

“You destroying my dreams is evil!”

“Which dreams, being an annoying ass?!”

“Being a cowboy- every man’s dream!”

“Ha fucking ha, don’t make me laugh-“

There was affection bubbling up in Trish, alongside the amusement. If the two of them hadn’t been so wrapped up in their argument – Lady had taken to poking Dante’s chest with every word while Dante downright pouted down at her, no matter how he would protest the mere idea – they would have caught her smiling at them with the softest smile she was capable off, utterly open and true.

Sibling squabbles, someone had told her once, while observing a scene very much like this. She couldn’t remember who had told her that piece of wisdom, but she couldn’t help but agree with it –

She had never had any home or family to begin with, had been created instead of born, used instead of raised, but she couldn’t help but associate moments like this with right, warm, home.

Family.

(How utterly, terribly, wonderfully ironic, she thought, a sadistic part of her wishing that whatever left of Mundus would turn over in his non-existent grave at the notion of it, how wonderful and miraculous that she would come to love a group of demonhunters, enemies, so fiercely and utterly as if they were the same flesh and blood as her, even more so.)

She had missed this while Dante was gone, she had. But as delighting as this was…

“Nico,” she called, her voice sadly interrupting the argument, leading to two pairs of eyes focusing on her in surprise.

“Uh, yeah?” The human girl popped up behind the desk where she had been hiding, face flushed from suppressed laughter, and waved awkwardly in Lady’s direction. Lady glowered at her, but did not draw any guns, so Nico seemed to loosen up a bit.

“You said you improved the hat. Did you also make it withstand higher level of voltage?”

Lady’s mouth dropped open, and a cheeky, absolutely silly grin spread on Dante’s face.

Nico hesitated, her eyes going wide. “Actually, I did! Thought the baby could use some protection against those electric demons, the, uh, Blitz? So, yeah, I… oh.”

“Ha,” Dante said, slowly, standing a little straighter.

Lady’s glower got even more murderous. “Don’t tell me…”

“I did say I would make it demon proof!” Obviously deciding that it wasn’t save out there any longer and more explosions were a real possibility, Nico dived behind the desk again.

“Ha!” Dante said, again, louder and happier than before. Lady’s sour expression could have curdled milk, at this point.

“There you have it,” Trish spread her hands as if in surrender, wine glass dancing daintily on her fingertips. “It’s basically me-proof.”

“Do not,” Lady spoke slowly, darkly, rounding on her now instead of the young engineer, “dare to tell me to my face that you are not much, much stronger than a simple Blitz demon. Heck, you probably wouldn’t even need electricity to get rid of it!”

“But that certain spark is what I’m known for,” Trish reminded with only slight amusement in her voice, winking at the other woman. “Where would we be if I distanced myself from that?”

“Howdy, mah dear, she so one upped you on this one,” Dante’s voice held no little respect, and he was cheeky enough to tip his (awful, terrible, war-inducing) hat at the blonde to show it.

The motion drew Lady’s gaze to the offending thing, and after glowering at it for a heartbeat (her look promising a painful death like no hat had ever seen before) she snatched it off Dante’s silvery hair and turned on her heels, storming to the door again.

“Lady - wait where are you going?”

“To destroy the evil in this world! NERO! KID GET YOUR ASS HERE AND MAKE YOURSELF USEFUL!”

“You’re pulling the kid into this?! Now you’re just going too far…!”

And gone they were, much like they had appeared, a storm passing through too fast to comprehend it.

“Well,” Nico said after a moment, glancing over the top of the desk carefully. “That was… something.”

“It’s not over yet, if you want to watch the rest,” taking a sip of her wine, Trish counted in her head how long it would take for Lady to find Nero hidden behind something to engineer and improve again, plus the time they needed to explain the situation to him, plus the time to get him to even listen to their “bullshit” – well, in any case, enough time to finish her drink and wait for Morrison to fill him in. “If you hurry, you might catch the boy rolling his eyes at them and wishing he never met them.”

Nico laughed, not even questioning if that was true – they both knew – and scrambled to get out of her hiding spot. “I need to see that. You coming?”

“Right behind you, in a second.”

Nico grinned, saluted, and bounced after the (still clearly audible) bickering duo.

Upbeat, lively, and knowing when to be crazy, Trish noted with some pride, a good, good addition to what she considered “her group”, that girl – just like the young demon and his woman had been.

The backdoor clicked quietly, too quietly for a human to catch it, but Trish smiled over her shoulder at Morrison. “You almost missed the best part of today.”

Morrison sighed fondly, clapping off his clothes even though he know he wouldn’t get out the offending bite of cigar smoke from his quick smoking break, not with her inhuman senses, at least. “Now, what did the kid do this time?”

“Thinks he makes a good cowboy, annoying Lady… you know, almost the usual.”

“A cowboy?” Morrison’s grey eyebrow rose up high. “Of all the things that he ever came up with… you know what, that might come close to being the craziest thing of all.”

Trish’s laughter run out, startlingly loud now that their crazy friends had left them in silence. “Oh, you know, he got the looks down and everything. Despite being blown up already.”

“I shouldn’t even be surprised.”

“No, you shouldn’t. Join me for the next part?” She shot him a smile that would have made men and women alike swoon, but with Morrison, it only got an amused huff out of him as he offered her his arm like the gentleman he was. She took it while raising gracefully, interlinking their arms with an ease that spoke of practice.

“I’m going to regret this, and somebody is going to get hurt for real over nothing,” he prophesized, aiming for gloom but unable to hold back his smile.

“Now,” Trish patted his arm with no little amusement as she led him after their very own circus. “It actually might go well.”

“When does it ever with them?”

“Hmhm, good point.”

“At least we might get a laugh out of it.”

“That’s the spirit.”

(Oh, how utterly, terribly, wonderfully crazy her family was)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ D ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nero had long since come to the perfectly reasonable conclusion that the crew of Devil May Cry were completely out of their minds.

From Dante’s constant disregard of his safety, Lady’s overly sensitive trigger finger (which was especially dangerous when she brought out the damn canon strapped to her back), and Trish…well, being Trish, there was no shortage of reasons to think the gang were long overdue for a few appointments with a shrink.

This…was something else though. He stared down at the hat in his hands. A hat that was given-alright less given and more slammed into his hand with little warning while he was working, by an especially angry looking Lady.

It seemed…well, it was a cowboy hat, with a long brim that curved upwards near the end, a leather band surrounding the center along with a few red gemstones that glowed with demonic power.

So, not the strangest thing Nero had ever held in his hand, but the way Lady was glaring down at it you’d think it was the spawn of the deepest pit of hell.

“…hello-?”

“Destroy it.”

“Huh?”

Just then Dante burst into the workshop (scattering the tools Nero had spent an entire hour cleaning up goddamnit old man!) with a look of unrestrained panic, “Kid! Don’t let her lies drag you to cruelty!”

“…what.”

“Quiet Dante!” Lady whirled on the older half demon, jabbing a finger in his chest, “This has gone on long enough!” She pointed at the hat still sitting serenely in Nero’s metal hand, “This thing has got to go!”

….were they seriously having an argument over a damn hat.

“Just because you can’t appreciate the style-”

“I saw cockroaches with more style than that tourist trap reject!”

This is why his work was interrupted so rudely? He was being subjected to all this drama because of a damn hat?

“You kidding!? That’s rich coming from a chick who rode a motorcycle in a tartan skirt and thigh high boots!”

“That thing is bad enough sitting on a coat hanger! But you put it on and, impossible as it may sound, you turn into an even bigger pain in the ass!”

“GUYS!” Nero yelled out, rubbing his temple with his free hand to try and stop the headache that rose into his head, “Are you serious?” He waved the hat around in exasperation, “What’s all this for?”

The two looked at each other for a moment, Lady with an impatient scowl and Dante with a challenging raise of an eyebrow, before turning to the younger man and absolutely unloading on him with silly complaint after ridiculous justification.

By the time they were done Nero was ready to grab the heavy piece of weaponry he was working on and using it to get them to calm the hell down but tried to control himself.

“Okay…” He said, through his teeth, hand still rubbing his forehead, “So, let me get this straight, Dante got a cowboy hat and got it into his head he has to use a really lame accent with it-”

“I think you mean authentic accent-”

“-Lady shot it to hell so Dante somehow convinced Nico to patch it up and make it stronger-”

“-a traitor, a traitor and a fool-”

“-making it strong enough to withstand bullets and a blast from a freaking rocket launcher-”

“-that there spooked me right good it did let me tell ya-”

“You’re not even wearing the damn thing what is wrong with you-!?”

“And Trish, for some reason, doesn’t think she can destroy it either.” Nero finished, his eye twitching with ever interruption from the other two, looking at the hat that started all this with disdain and general annoyance, “And now you want me to destroy this ugly thing, right?”

“It ain’t ugly-”

“Yes it is! C’mon Nero you gotta be on my side on this one!” She pointed at Dante, “Doesn’t this guy annoy us enough without this extra ammo!?”

“Don’t appeal to his emotions!” Dante made a motion towards Nero with a hand, “The kid’s smart, I’m sure he can see proper solution to all this,” He sent a charming smile to Nero, complete with gleaming teeth (all it accomplished was make Nero’s headache worse), “Right kid? What do you think about all this?”

Nero looked at Dante, gleaming smile still stretching his face, and then at Lady, her face sending off an endless amount of threats of horrible and slow death (both towards the demon hunter and his hat), and sighed.

“I think that the both of you are crazy and that this is, bar none, the most idiotic situation I have ever found myself in.”

Behind the door, Morrison, Trish and Nico had to try their hardest not to burst out laughing.

“…is everything okay in there?”

The trio near the door looked behind them to see Kyrie, dressed comfortably and carrying a few bags of groceries in her hands, and a rather worried expression on her face.

“Let me get those for you.” Morrison offered quickly, stepping up to her to take the heavy overfilled bags out of her hands and onto a nearby table, when he turned back and saw her still a bit anxious and looking at the workshop door. “Oh that? Don’t worry little lady, just another silly little argument between Dante and our resident Gunslinger.”

Kyrie sighed and put a hand to her cheek, “Oh, what did he do this time?”

Morrison tried not to grin at the sound of exasperated affection in her voice, it still surprised him how such a seemingly delicate looking girl got so used to the madness of the half devil so easily

(Though he supposed she had practice with that boyfriend of hers.)

“Nothing too drastic, Dante just got a new hat.”

The sound of crashing metal and gunfire, followed by loud yelling and cursing, erupted from behind the doors, Nico flinching back a couple steps away while Trish just shook her head with a chuckle.

Kyrie blinked twice at the door, then looked back at Morrison. “A hat is causing that?”

The old man laughed. “Well, the hat and Dante having a little too much fun with it, Lady in particular seems to disapprove.”

“I WILL DESTROY THAT LOATHSOME PIECE OF LEATHER IF IT’S THE LAST THING I DO!”

“OVER MY DEAD BODY!”

“THAT CAN BE ARRANGED!”

A few explosions rocked the building, followed by the unmistakable sounds of Dante whooping and hollering as he dodged gunfire from an increasingly angry Lady.

“…I’ve guessed…” She looked over at Trish, who was still sitting near the door with a sly grin and enjoying the fireworks. “You’re not going to stop them?”

“Better to let them get it out of their system.” Trish waved off her concern easily. “As soon as Dante gets bored of this joke he’ll drop the damn hat and we can all move on.”

Nico side-eyed the door as more noise filtered through the wood. “Assuming there’s anything left by the time they’re done.”

Kyrie narrowed her eyes at the door…before she recognized it as the door to Nero’s workshop.

“Guys come on I just finished cleaning up! Would you two relax!?”

Kyrie’s heels made a very distinct sound on the wooden floor as she stepped her way to the door and grabbed the handle to open it.

Trish grabbed her wrist gently to stop her. “Hold on now,” She said calmly, “no need for you to get in the middle of this, they’ll burn themselves out soon enou-”

Kyrie looked Trish dead in the eye, raised a single eyebrow, and waited.

Trish blinked in surprise before letting go of Kyrie and putting her hands up in mock surrender. “Alright then, go save your boyfriend.”

Kyrie nodded and opened the door, stepping briskly passed the threshold.

(She didn’t catch Nico whispering, “I keep forgetting how scary she can be.” as she walked away. She didn’t catch Morrison chuckling or Trish shrugging either.)

The first thing she saw as she walked in was the burning wreckage of the motorcycle Nero had been tinkering with for the past six weeks embedded in a nearby wall. The second thing she saw was her boyfriend grabbing Lady from behind to hold her back from trying to wring Dante’s neck, who was standing a few feet away and sticking his tongue out at the raging hunter.

“White haired pain in the neck!”

“Why don’t you admit you’re just jealous of my fashion sense?”

“Why don’t you shut it before she shoots you with the rocket launcher again!?"

She cupped her hands over her mouth and took a deep breath. “HEY!”

The trio froze in place and whipped their heads to look at her, expressions suddenly sheepish.

“I heard there was an argument about a hat?”

Dante blinked, before a mad grin bloomed on his features, “Indeed there is.”

Nero’s eyes bugged out and he glared at Dante, still holding Lady back. “Oh no don’t you drag here into this nonsense!”

“She is the perfect person to settle this once and for all!” Dante shot back, walking calmly towards Kyrie, who was crossing her arms and looking a little tired already. “She’s a neutral party, plus the only person here with a sense of style.”

Kyrie shook her head, though a little smile was pulling at the sides of her mouth, since the whole incident at Fortuna, the veteran devil hunter had never ceased to surprise her with his antics, but this was on another level all together.

“Well howdy there little lady.”

A groan of supreme displeasure rose from Lady, “oh God it just keeps getting worse.”

“Me and my companion over yonder are havin’ a dispute over fashion and style.” He continued, his drawl ever present and even posing like a cowboy, one hand on the brim of his hat and the other on his hip. “I think this here hat makes me look mighty stylin’, while Lady over there-”

“Thinks that hat and the accent you put on with it is a raging garbage fire.”

“-Well yeah, and we’ve been tryin’ to settle this for a while now, and all our other friends are refusing to comment.”

“They like watching us squabble you mean.”

“Well yeah obviously.” Dante said easily, losing the accent for a moment, “I know that, why do think they’ve been outside that door listening in on us this whole time?”

The sounds of people scrambling came from behind said door, along with a muffled curse.

“Assholes!”

“Like you wouldn’t do the same.” Dante laughed, before turning back to Kyrie, who has been holding back her own laughter, and turning the drawl back on, “So, I reckon that you, being the most honest and straightforward of our bunch, you’d be able to settle this once and for all.”

“Dante…” Lady started again, this time sounding more than a little tired, “please don’t drag her into this, this is just a stupid joke-”

“Look,” Dante intoned diplomatically, “if Kyrie says something she means it. If she says the hat doesn’t suit me, I drop it and the accent, fair?”

Lady grumbled for a moment before throwing her hands up in surrender, “Fine, so long as this idiocy stops already.” She then looked down at Nero, who was still holding her back by the waist, “…and kid?”

“Yeah?”

“If you don’t want to see how bulletproof you are compared to Dante, you will put me down.”

He quickly put her on her feet and took a good 5 five steps back with his hands up.

“So, in your honest opinion Kyrie, how do I look?”

Kyrie looked at Dante, very closely, taking in his smug grin, confident posture, and the laughter in his eyes as he tried to hold back from showing how much he was enjoying himself in this farce.

She peered behind him to look at Nero a bit helplessly, and he could only offer a shrug in reply as he mouthed a ‘sorry’. She looked back at Dante with a curious expression, at a loss.

Suddenly his expression softened, “you don’t have to get involved if you don’t want to.” He grinned easily and took a step back, “no pressure, it’s just a little joke.”

Kyrie caught something as he stepped back, a look in his eye that she recognized.

“Dante…why do you want to be a cowboy anyway?”

Dante looked incredulous for a moment, before scoffing. “Oh come on, I can’t be the only one who wanted to be a cowboy when they were a kid.”

Lady raised an eyebrow at him, “Seriously Dante?”

“Yeah seriously,” Dante said with a laugh tinged with nostalgia, “when I was a kid I used to watch all these movies about desperadoes riding into the sunset, firing six shooters, and leaning on bar stools, looking cool without even trying.” He laughed again, “hell, especially Clint Eastwood, I must have watched The Good The Bad and The Ugly like a dozen times with my-”

He stopped dead, voice catching in his throat as something dark passed in his eyes. Lady and Nero gaped at him, Lady in particular looking at a loss for words as what he didn’t say started to sink in.

Kyrie felt something clench in her chest, but said nothing, waiting for him to continue.

Instead he sighed and took the hat off with a dismissive chuckle, “nah, nevermind, like I said.” He put the hat on Kyrie’s head, “just a dumb joke that I took a bit too far.”

“Dante…”

“Could you put that in the weapon storage?” Dante called out easily as he stepped away from her, “if I need it I’ll know where to find it.” He looked at the mess he and Lady made of the workshop and sucked in a breath through his teeth, “yikes, we really did a number on this place huh?” He looked at Nero with a small grin, “sorry ‘bout that kid.”

Nero shook his head and scowled lightly, “if you’re so sorry you can help clean up.” He pointed at Lady, “and you too!”

“Gotcha.”

Kyrie felt her heart sink at the look of Dante, grinning and joking but in a subdued way, like he was hiding something.

She knew what he was hiding of course, they all knew, but discussing such things in Devil May Cry simply Did Not Happen. If she left it be he would back to his old self in a few days and never bring it up again, never put the hat on again either, no matter how happy it made him.

She grabbed the hat off her head and started stepping towards him with purpose, tugging on his coat so he would look at her.

Before he could even ask her what she wanted, she put the hat back on his head.

“Huh?”

“I think this makes you look very handsome, Dante.”

She smiled warmly at him as he blinked down in surprise, reaching a hand up to rub the brim of the hat, “R-really?”

She nodded easily, smile still lighting up her features.

Dante blinked a few more times before his usual grin lit up, “Well I’ll be darned-”

“Although,” Kyrie said again, grabbing the hat off his head before he could react and put it back on her head, “the accent is a bit much.”

Dante blinked again at her, before he bent over in laughter and looked at Lady, “See? At least someone has some fashion sense around here.”

Lady rolled her eyes and shook her head, “yeah, but she also has some common sense.”

Dante laughed again and shook his head, grinning at her, “Sorry about busting your chops all day, couldn’t help myself.”

Lady punched him on the shoulder, “yeah yeah, and I’m sorry for shooting you with a rocket.”

“Twice.”

“Alright twice ya big baby.”

Nero walked over to Kyrie and hugged her while the other two bickered lightly as they cleaned up, kissing her softly, “You are a blessing, you know that right?”

Kyrie laughed as she blushed from her boyfriend’s attention, “Just keeping the peace.”

—-

Kyrie walked into the weapon storage with the hat in hand (she was still having trouble wrapping her head around the idea that a hat could be a weapon), and closed the door behind her, looking for a place to put it where it wouldn’t be too out of the way to be hidden.

She walked a few steps in, admiring a few of the pieces already on shelves and hanging off hooks on the walls, eventually finding a free space on a shelf where she could put the hat.

Along with a mirror.

Kyrie looked at it for a moment, seeing it was just an ordinary mirror (Dante probably kept it in there to check out his looks), and looked at the hat in her hands.

She looked left.

Right.

Back at the hat.

Slowly, she faced the mirror, and put the hat on, admiring the visage in her reflection.

Making a finger gun gesture, she pointed at the glass with a self indulgent grin. “Bang.” After a moment, she used both hands and affected a slight southern drawl, “Reach for the sky.”

With a giggle she took the hat off and put it on the shelf and made for the exit with a happy spring in her step.

As soon as she closed the door behind her, she noticed the whole of Devil May Cry looking at her with very amused smiles.

Kyrie blushed and chuckled nervously.

“Oh sure,” Dante grumbled from somewhere in the back, “it’s cute when she does it.”

“Of course it’s cute when she does it,” Lady shot back, rolling her eyes to the heavens. “She’s not doing it purposely to annoy people, if you catch my drift.”

Dante tipped his head at her, smirk curling his lips. “Already apologized, your honor.”

An amused snort followed. “Doesn’t mean I can’t needle you about it.”

Pocketing her phone – making sure she had the video of Kyrie with the hat saved – Nico chanced a glance in Lady’s direction. “Sooo, that mean you’re not going to blow up, say, an engineer who helped him being annoying?”

Lady shot her an incredulous look before laughing, “Alright, to make this clear: I’m not blowing up innocent people who can’t immediately regenerate from it. With a rocket launcher! Honestly, do you think I’m some kind of madwoman?! No, you don’t answer that,” she added to Dante, narrowing her eyes as she noticed that he had already opened his mouth to do just that.

He clamped it shut obediently, raising his hands in silent surrender while trying to look inncent and surprised. It didn’t work very well.

“See, Nico” Trish’s melodic voice dissipated the momentary tension again, “I told you she wouldn’t do it.”

“Well, I just think you can’t be too careful about that!” Nico defended herself, grinning embarrassedly.

“Nah, you’re safe,” Lady assured her, before holding up one finger. “That is…”

Nico froze in the middle of moving to take a seat, eyes wide in surprise and just the tiniest bit of worry. “Uh, yes?”

“… if you tell me how the heck you managed to make that damn hat so unbreakable.”

Kyrie had to hold back fond laughter as she watched Nico blink, gape, and then starting to beam, the engineer looking as if her birthday and a holiday had just fallen on the same day. “Really? You want to hear me talk about my work?!”

“Uh-oh,” Nero mumbled, flashing Kyrie a quick smile from across the room, only strengthening her urge to laugh. They both knew how excited Nico could get when someone showed interest in her ideas and working processes.

If Lady had any worries about what monster she had just unleashed, she didn’t show it, waving Nico closer with a chuckle. “Hear about it? I want to know all about it. If you can do that with a hat, I want to know if you can do that with some of my clothes – would be great if they were a bit more resistant and I didn’t need to buy new clothes after a single job.”

Nico’s grin widened to a worrisome degree as she dove for her notebooks and then hurried over to the older woman, plopping down next to her.

“If that’s the case,” Trish stretched on her spot on the couch before getting up in one fluid movement, “I would be quite interested in that, too.”

Morrison chuckled, shaking his head. “I’ve never seen you get a single hole in your clothes, Trish.”

She shot him a wink over her shoulder, smirking. “Perhaps you’re too gentlemanly to look too closely.”

“That must be it, sure.”

The excitement of the day – and any talk about cowboys or talking like cowboys – seemed to be forgotten for the moment as they went on with their day, a sort of peace coming over them.

And yet, as she stood and watched her friends go on about their day, when she had should have just joined them… Kyrie couldn’t shake off the thought that there was something still left unattended, unsaid.

The oh-so recent memory back from Nero’s workshop came clawing back up her chest, making it ache and burn – the way Dante’s eyes had gleamed with almost childish excitement as he told them about his love for cowboys, before the shadows had snuffed out that light.

It wasn’t the first time she had witnessed it, and she had been part of this group for much less time than some of the others. But it was there, if you knew where to look for, if you listened close enough: Those moments when Dante’s whole persona just seemed to crack, seams loosening and falling apart, and laughter and booming voice made way for silence and something glaringly deep and dark, swallowing him up whole.

It made Kyrie want to cry for him, for what had been lost. Manchild, they might call Dante sometimes, in annoyance, in tease, in warm laughter – but sometimes, perhaps, all of them, even herself, forgot that said child had been forced to grow into a man much too quickly, and in horror whose lasting damage they could only fathom.

The thought alone made her feel sick. She wanted to hug him, to tell him it was all going to be okay. But again… in Devil May Cry, things weren’t discussed. They were ignored, swept under the carpet, downplayed with noise and jokes and explosions until they could no longer be heard. It was Rule Number One. Everybody knew it. Etched into stone it had been, even long before she had come along.

By now, Kyrie was gnawing at her bottom lip in thought, wringing her hands. An idea was starting to form, and perhaps it might even be a good idea, but she wasn’t sure if it was her place to orchestrate something like this. Too personal. She was still mostly a stranger. Her idea could be appreciated, yes, but it could also very much backfire and do more bad than good…

“Hey,”

Warm hands reached for her, the metal one wrapping gently around her fingers to stop the fiddling, the human one carefully stroking its thump over her bottom lip so she had to stop biting it.

As Kyrie looked up, Nero smiled down at her, eyes soft even though there was gentle tease in his smirk. “You’re going to hurt yourself if you keep doing that.”

That got a laugh out of her. His smirk widened into a smile, as if the sound had just brightened his entire day. “My hero, saving me again.”

“Always. But seriously,” a quick peck was pressed to the tip of her nose, making her giggle again because it tickled, before he became more serious. Hand coming to cup her cheek, he directed her to look at him. “What got you all frowning?”

Kyrie hummed, lost in thought while she straightened his collar and smoothed non-existent wrinkles out, all the while wondering how she should start this, if she should ask for help or not. Nero’s fingers moved, playing with her hair like he so often did, the touch familiar and grounding and calming all in once.

You’re not alone. I’m right here.

It was this silent reassurance that made her wish she could give others – could give Dante the same, even if it was just a tiny bit.

“Did you ever see something,” she began, looking up to meet Nero’s soft, inquiring gaze, “something that just didn’t seem right, and you felt like you wanted to…help fix it? Even if it’s perhaps none of your business?”

He raised one eyebrow at her, lips quirking up. “You do realize who you’re talking to, right?”

“Quite,” she assured, answering laughter rising in her. “But I mean…even if you would kind of break an unspoken rule with it?”

The second eyebrow joined the first, mirth gleaming in his eyes. “Again, you do realize who you’re….?”

“Oh, okay, okay, shush,” she had to laugh, honest and loud, but she still managed to aim a playful smack at his shoulder throughout it, just for railing her up. It was not like he would even feel it.

Nero’s glee only seemed to increase, as if she had done something particularly endearing. Still, he caught her raised hand in his, pressing a quick kiss to the palm to sooth whatever sting there was, before drawing her back into an embrace. “Alright, but seriously, if I were in your stead, I would probably just go through with it, whatever it is.”

“Don’t I know it, you would jump right in,” Kyrie mumbled into his chest, smiling when he chuckled without an ounce of shame. “I might have to take a page from your book then, this time.”

“What an honor,” she could hear the tease in his voice, but the kiss he dropped to the top of her head was full of honest reassurance. “You’re gonna do great.”

“You don’t even know what I‘m going to do.”

“No clue. But I just saw you manage both Dante and Lady at the same time. I doubt there’s anything that can stop you after that.”

Again, laughter burst out of her, and she stood to her tiptoes as he released her and stepped back, rocking forward to press a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” his grin was wide and boyish, so different from his usual smirk and just for her, it made another surge of affection go through her.

Kyrie was just about to add another kiss to the first, when they got joined by a third party.

“I really hate to interrupt you two lovebirds,” Nico peeked over Nero’s shoulder, flush high in her cheeks from excitement. “But Kyrie, can I kidnap your boyfriend for a sec? I want to show off the Devil Breaker to the interested ladies over there.”

“Go ahead,” Kyrie agreed, waving them off.

Nero’s eyebrows rose yet again. “I don’t even get asked?”

“You don’t get asked,” Nico confirmed, already attempting to drag him off. “Move it, lover boy.”

Nero rolled his eyes at the attempt, not even giving an inch, before he bent down and pressed one last parting kiss to Kyrie’s forehead. “You go rock whatever it is.”

“Will do.”

“What, what is she gonna do?”

“None of your business, Nico.”

“Aww, you guys never let me join the fun.”

“Really? You complain while dragging me around like a puppet?”

“Excuse me, at least twenty percent of you is made by me, I can drag all I want, honey.”

Kyrie smiled after the two of them as they went, bickering all the way. Really now…

Taking one deep breath, stealing herself for whatever outcome this was going to achieve, she turned, located whom she needed, and purposefully strode over.

Morrison seemed surprised when he looked up and saw her standing next to him, but it quickly made way for a welcoming smile as he made a gesture towards the empty space on the couch next to him. “Yes, Kyrie? What is it?”

She huffed out a chuckle at that, gratefully taking a seat. “I didn’t say anything and you already know I need something?”

“Easy to see, with that determined gleam in your eyes,” he observed, reaching for his jacket before stopping, shaking his head at his own habit before looking up again. “So, how may I help?”

His smile was friendly still, and no accusations in his words, so Kyrie relaxed instantly. Clearly, her feeling that he would be the right person to ask had been right. “You see, I wondered if there’s a place where I could buy old movies. As in, old western movies?”

Morrison’s expression faltered for half a second, eyebrows shooting up, and he only just so seemed to stop himself from gaping at her. “You…”

His reaction had been much stronger than Kyrie had anticipated, and once again she wondered – worried – if she was overstepping her boundaries here. In an attempt to explain, she added, “It’s just that we don’t have any shops in Fortuna that sell older things like that, or movies in general, and I don’t know a lot of places here in…”

“They wouldn’t be for you, I take it?”

She interrupted herself, blushing ever so slightly. Was she so easy to read?

Then she remembered how Morrison had put emphasis on just how long he had known Dante, and she thought that, perhaps, if anyone knew best what went on in the demon hunter’s head…if anyone understood, it would probably be…

Morrison hadn’t reacted badly to it, not really. Simply surprised.

Kyrie raised her chin, mind made up. She was sure this was the right thing to do, now. “No, they would be a present.”

That seemed to be the right thing to say. The inquiring look melted from Morrison’s face, replaced by the most brilliant smile she had ever seen from him. “I actually might know where to get you that present.”

It took her a second, but then Kyrie understood, and she beamed. “Really? Where?”

She had half a mind to go there immediately, on the height of her enthusiasm, and gather up every last Wild Western movie she could get a hand on.

It must have shown, because the man chuckled, resting a hand on her wrist to get her to stay seated. “Slow down, now. I’m going to head over there, see what I can scrounge up for you.”

“Oh, but you don’t have to-…“

“Kyrie,” his voice was kind, but firm. “It’s a great idea you had there, and I would be happy to offer some help.”

She relaxed, releasing a relieved breath. “You think it will be…well received, then.”

“More than you probably can imagine right now. But you might find out for yourself.”

Before she could wonder what that meant, much less ask, a hand landed on her shoulder, warm and gentle.

“As if someone doesn’t like presents,” Dante rumbled, arm coming to rest around Kyrie’s shoulder as he leaned over the back of the couch to steal Morrison’s beer bottle from next to him. The older man let him, smile curling around his lips even as he muttered a half-hearted protest over it.

Kyrie had jumped at the first touch, sudden as it was, but relaxed now. She had become quite used to the ease with which Dante approached her, even when she had been perplexed by it at first. She peered up at the older half-demon, catching his gaze which was… far too amused, for the situation, she noted. Far too fond and directed at her and…

Oh.

Oh right, she thought with a rush of embarrassment and amusement at the same time, heightened senses, and better hearing.

Sometimes she forgot just who she was dealing with.

Huffing, hoping that she didn’t blush too badly at her own oversight and being caught, Kyrie smiled up at Dante, pointing an accusing finger at him. “Is it still a present if you’re not even going to be surprised by it?”

The smirk on Dante’s face widened into a grin and he shrugged one shoulder. “I like presents. Never said a thing about surprises.”

The hand still wrapped around her shoulder squeezed, gently, taking the blow out of his teasing, and she smiled widely at it.

“I can pretend to be surprised by it, if you like,” he offered still, raising an inquiring eyebrow at her.

She sighed fondly, shaking her head. “Please, no. After that cowboy show all day? I don’t want to think how far you would go to pretend to be surprised.”

“Well said,” Morrison laughed out loud at that, throwing his head back, and the grin on Dante’s face couldn’t be any bigger.

“What are you guys getting up to over here?” Nero sidled over to them, obviously having been released from his duty to show off. He pushed, none too roughly, past Dante, who easily gave up his spot at Kyrie’s side to let Nero take over.

“Failing to surprise Dante,” Kyrie explained, chuckling as she saw confusion flash over her boyfriend’s face at that before it settled again.

“Still ready to pretend,” Dante disagreed, waggling his eyebrows at her before he took a swig of his drink. “But, to answer your question kid – Kyrie here did surprise us all with planning a movie night.”

“I-.. what?”

That, she hadn’t anticipated. Hadn’t even thought of.

But clearly, Dante had. He twirled the bottle in his fingers, humming, not really meeting their perplexed gazes. “Sure. Movies are there to be watched, aren’t they? And I was thinking pizza. Movies with pizza, and you guys can stay if you like, since it was your idea in the first place.”

It sounded casual enough, the way he said it. It didn’t seem casual at all, the way melancholy was etched into his lopsided smile, and he was still not looking over to gauge their reactions.

Kyrie’s mind was made up immediately, and she reached for Nero’s hand on her shoulder even as she searched for his gaze.

He was already looking back, tipping his head at her in a short, almost invisible nod that made her heart swell with love once again.

(He could pretend not to care all he wanted, she knew better. They knew better.)

“If you talk with that shitty accent throughout the whole movie,” Nero warned, no real threat in his voice. “I will join Lady in shooting you.”

Dante’s smile sharpened into a smirk and he rolled his eyes. “Kid, that threat stopped working after you greeted me with bullets the first time around.”

“That just means he saw right through you,” Lady called from the other side of the room. Kyrie looked over just in time to see Trish hide a smile behind her hand and Nico snort, Lady lounging in her chair with mirth in her eyes that belied her harsh words. “Noticed right away that it’s the best way to go when it comes to you.”

“Cheers, I'll drink to that!” Dante threw back, raising his empty bottle at her even as she made a crude gesture in his direction.

“Prick.”

“Mh-hm,” the half-demon seemed more amused than faced by it. “Will the ladies be joining movie night?”

“Sure, why not,” Trish answered easily. “Could be fun.”

“Movies and pizza?” Nico brightened up, grinning. “Count me in.”

“Wait, wait,” Lady straightened up again, throwing her hands up in a Stop gesture. “Wild Western movies with Dante? After this day? You’re just going to use that to torment us with that terrifying, horrible accent again.”

“I already apologized…”

“Aha, I don’t hear you saying No to that statement.”

There was a beat of apprehensive silence as the duo looked at each other, everyone else in the room shifting more or less uneasily at the sudden tension.

Then, Dante smiled, slowly and bright, and Lady let out the deepest sigh in the history of humanity.

“Once,” she said in the tone of someone who just had to make a great sacrifice. “You can use it once.”

“I can live with that.”

“I’m going to regret this,” Lady mumbled, scrunching her nose while Trish next to her chuckled. “I see it coming already.”

“Well,” Morrison declared, pushing himself to his feet. “Sounds like my cue to go get those movies.”

“Get the good ones.” Dante called advice after him. “The real good ones.”

“Dante, I have no idea what you consider good ones, you get your ass in the car and accompany me if you want to have a say in this.”

“Sheesh, you all have no idea about good movies…”

“Well,” Nero mumbled into Kyrie’s ear, aiming to be heard as everyone around them started talking at the same time, arguing over movies to watch and what pizza to order. “Whatever you did, it worked pretty well it seems.”

“Don’t you say I told you so, now,” Kyrie warned, laughing even as she felt him grin against her temple.

“Don’t even have to,” he basically sing-songed. Then pressed a quick kiss to her temple, humming. “You are a blessing, Kyrie. Really.”

Behind them, Dante and Morrison laughed over something as the older man chucked a coat at the half-demon, making him splutter. Lady tried to pout around her smile and failed miserably, grin taking over her features as she rolled her eyes. Nico pulled out the well-used flyer from the nearest pizza parlor from a drawer. Trish threw her head back in laughter, baring the length of her throat, as she watched the engineer notice that the only phone in the shop had been unplugged once again.

It was messy, and loud, and far from perfect.

It was their perfect, Kyrie thought, affection rose in her throat, slow and bright and warm. And if she could do anything, something, however little, to preserve it, she would do it.

“This,” she said, clearing her throat against the sudden feelings, trying again. “This is a blessing.”

And if the way Nero smiled at her then was any indication, she thought, he just might think so, too.

#dmc #devil may cry #my writing #rex' writing #fanfic #dante #lady #nero #kyrie #trish #morrison #nico #devil may cry 5 #dmc 5 #nerokiri

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dumbledearme · 6 years ago

Text

chapter twenty-six—saved by a mortal

read Child of Land and Sea here

Act IV — To Stop The Tide

Part I — And I can hardly wait to discombobulate, I'll send you back and packing in a shipping crate.

"Just relax," Sally said, but she didn't sound relaxed. "It's only an orientation tour. And remember, dear, this is Paul's school. So try not to... you know."

"Blow it to shit?"

"Pretty much, yes."

Andy sighed. Paul Blofis was Sally's new boyfriend. He was an English teacher and had managed to convince Good High School to accept Andy for the next school year. Andy had tried to warn him that it wasn't a good idea, but the man just wouldn't listen to reason.

"You haven't told him the truth about me, have you?"

Sally tapped her fingers nervously on the wheel. "I thought we should wait."

"So we don't scare him away?"

"It's just one morning, Andy. It'll be fine."

"I'll be expelled before even starting school."

"Think positive, honey. Tomorrow you're off to camp! And later today, you've got your date-"

"It's not a date!" Andy protested. "It's just... Anthony."

"He's coming all the way from camp to meet you."

"Yes."

"You're going to the movies."

"So?"

"Just the two of you."

"Stop it!"

Sally held up her hands in surrender. "I'm just reminding you, Andy, that if by any chance you have something to say to that boy, today is the perfect time."

"Consider me reminded."

Andy got out of the car and into the school. Two cheerleaders ambushed her in the halls. "Hi," they smiled. "Welcome to Goode," the blonde one said. "You are so going to love it!"

The other girl, with a name tag written Kelli on it, said, "What's your name?"

"Uh, Andy."

The two girls exchanged a look. "Oh, Andy Jackson," the blonde one said. "We've been waiting for you."

Having a bad feeling about that, Andy was about to run when Paul Blofis showed up to greet her. The cheerleaders backed off. Andy anxiously passed them, kneeling Kelli in the thigh. Her leg made a hollow, metallic sound.

"There you are," Paul was saying. "Welcome to Goode!"

"Yeah, hey, Paul."

"Andy, you look like you've seen a ghost," Paul said. He patted her on the back. "I know you're nervous, but you've got nothing to worry about. We get a lot of kids here with ADHD and dyslexia. The teachers know how to help."

"If only ADHD and dyslexia were my biggest worries," Andy mumbled looking over her shoulder to where the cheerleaders were watching her. Then Andy looked down the hall and saw a girl with frizzy red hair also staring at her.

Andy cursed under her breath. Somebody called Paul and he went to see what the person needed. The red-headed came swinging. "I thought I'd never see you again! As a matter of fact, there were some days when I thought I'd imagined you..."

"Rachel Elizabeth Dare," Andy recalled. "No, I'm real."

The girl smiled, a little too flirtatiously. "And you never told me your name last December when you tried to kill me."

"I wasn't... I didn't... What are you doing here?"

"Orientation," Rachel shrugged.

"You live in New York?"

"You thought I lived at Hoover Dam?" Suddenly the smile vanished from her freckled face and her eyes widened. Andy followed her gaze and saw Kelli, still watching her. "Run," Rachel whispered.

"Why?"

Without answering, Rachel took Andy's hand and pulled her down the hall to the band room where they hid behind a bass drum. "You think they followed us?" Rachel asked, crouching down.

"The cheerleaders?" Andy asked. Rachel nodded nervously. "I don't think so. What are they? What did you see?"

Rachel's green eyes were bright with fear. "You wouldn't believe me."

"Oh, I'm fairly sure I would," Andy said. "I know you can see through the Mist."

"The what?"

"The Mist. It's... like a veil that hides the way things really are. Some mortals are born with the ability to see through it. Like you."

Rachel studied Andy carefully. "You did that at Hoover Dam. You called me a mortal. Like you're not." Her face was pleading. "You know what it means. All these horrible things I see."

"Uh... yeah. You see... What do you know of Greek myths?" Rachel waited. "All those monsters, the gods, the stories... they are all true."

"I knew it!"

Andy blinked. "That was strangely easy."

"You don't know how hard it's been," Rachel said. "For years I thought I was going crazy. I couldn't tell anybody. I couldn't-" her eyes narrowed. "Wait. Who are you? I mean really? You look like you, but you're not... human. Are you?"

"I'm a half-blood. I'm half human," Andy said carefully. She had no idea why she was telling this girl everything. For some weird reason, they'd had this instant connection and Andy felt she could be trusted.

"And half what?"

Just then, Kelli and the other stepped into the band room. The doors slammed shut behind them. "There you are, Andy Jackson," the blonde one said. "It's time for your orientation." While Kelli stood blocking the doors, the blonde one went toward Andy. When the cheerleader was close enough, Andy drew Riptide and pointed at her chest.

She snarled and began to change. The color drained out of her, her skin was white, her eyes were red. Her teeth grew into fangs. She looked like a vampire. But her legs were different from one another. The left one was brown and donkey-like, while the right one was made of bronze. She advanced on her weird, mismatched legs.

Rachel threw a snare drum at the empousa's head. The demon hissed and batted the drum away. Rachel threw a xylophone, but the demon just swatted that away, too.

"I don't usually kill girls," she growled. "But I will enjoy killing you two."

She lunged at them and Andy slashed with Riptide. The blade sliced straight through her cheerleader uniform, and with a horrible wail she exploded into dust all over them.

"You killed my trainee!" Kelli yelled. "You need a lesson, half-blood!" Kelli changed into her true form. "I'm senior empousa," she growled. "No man has bested me in a thousand years."

"I'm no man." Andy attacked, but Kelli dodged. Andy placed herself between the empousa and Rachel. Kelli circled them.

"Such a pretty blade," she said, watching the sword. "What a shame it stands between us." Her form shimmered. "You don't even know what is happening, do you? Soon, your camp will be in flames, your friends will be slaves to the Lord of Time, and there's nothing you can do to stop it. It would be merciful to end your life now, before you have to witness that."

Voices started coming from down the hall. The empousa's eyes lit up. She picked up a tuba and threw it at Andy, who ducked. The tuba sailed over her head and crashed through the window. The voices in the hall died down.

"Andy!" Kelli shouted. "Why did you do that?" And she kept throwing instruments and making a mess. Andy charged after her. The door flung open. Kelli turned toward Andy like a cowering victim. She cried, and before the sword could hit her, she exploded into flames.

"Andy?" Paul Blofis looked completely stunned. "What have you done?"

Kids screamed down the hall. The fire alarm wailed. Ceiling sprinklers hissed to life.

"You have to get out of here," Rachel whispered. Andy nodded and with a last apologetic glance at Paul, she sprinted for the broken band room window.

Andy burst out of the alley onto East 81st and ran straight into Anthony. "Hey, you're out early!" he laughed. For a split second he was in a good mood and everything was fine. He looked as charming as ever; his gray eyes sparkling. Then Rachel appeared and Anthony's smile melted. For the first time he noticed the smoke, the alarm, the screams. "What did you do? And who is this?"

Andy introduced the two of them. Police sirens wailed on FDR Drive.

"Andy," Anthony said coldly. "We should go."

"I want to know more about half-bloods," Rachel said. "And monsters. And this stuff about the gods." She grabbed Andy's arm, whipped out a permanent marker, and wrote a phone number on Andy's hand. "You're going to call me and explain, okay? You owe me that. Now get going. I'll make some story. Tell them it wasn't your fault." Just like that, she ran back toward the school.

Anthony stared at Andy. "You told a mortal girl about half-bloods?"

"There were two empousai! And she can see through the Mist. I mean-"

"You told her the truth?"

"She recognized me from Hoover Dam, so-"

"You've met her before? This is strange," he shook his head. "Well, I guess our afternoon is off. We should get you out of here, now that the police will be searching for you." Without another word, Anthony took off and Andy had to jog after him.

In the taxi, Andy tried to talk to him but Anthony seemed to be far away. All she managed to get out of him was that he'd had a monster-infested spring in San Francisco; he'd come back to camp twice since Christmas, but wouldn't tell Andy why; and he'd learned nothing about the whereabouts of Nico di Angelo.

"What about Luke?" Andy asked.

"Mount Tam is till overrun with monsters," he said. "I didn't dare go near it, but I Luke isn't there anyway."

"How can you know?" she asked. He didn't answer. Andy felt like he was keeping something from her but decided not to push him. "What about Grover?"

"He's at camp. We'll see him today."

"Did he have any luck? With the search for Pan?"

"You'll see."

"Okay, are you mad at me?" she finally asked.

Anthony glanced at her and sighed. "No, Andy. I am not mad at you. I'm just mad."

The taxi dropped them on Farm Road 3.141, at the base of Half-Blood Hill. They hiked to the crest where the young guardian dragon was dozing, coiled around the pine tree, but he lifted his coppery head as they approached. "Hey, Peleus," Anthony greeted. They walked down into the valley, greeting the others, until Anthony said, "I need to talk to Clarisse."

Andy stared at him. "What for?"

"We've been working on something," he answered. "I'll see you later, okay?"

"Working on what? And with Clarisse?"

Anthony glanced toward the forest. "I'll tell Chiron you're here. He'll want to talk to you before the hearing."

"What hearing?"

But he jogged down the path toward the archery field without looking back. Andy cursed and made her way through camp. Then she found herself face-to-face with the biggest hell-hound she had ever seen. She was about to draw Riptide when a man said, "She's harmless. Meet Mrs O'Leary."

Andy blinked. The man smiled dryly. He had short gray hair and a clipped gray beard. At the base of his neck was a strange mark, a purplish blotch like a birthmark or a tattoo, but Andy couldn't tell what it was.

"Mrs O'Leary is my pet," he explained.

"Okay," Andy said slowly. "And who are you?"

"Quintus."

Andy shook his hand. It was as rough as sandpaper. "Andy Jackson," she said. "How did you, um-"

"Get a hell-hound for a pet? Long story, involving many close calls with death and quite a few giant chew toys. I'm the new sword instructor, by the way. Helping out Chiron while Mr D is away."

"Mr D is away?"

"Yes, well... Busy times. Even Dionysus must help out. He's gone to visit some of the lesser gods. Make sure they're on the right side. I probably shouldn't say more than that." Then he looked around thoughtful. "They didn't have camps like this when I was a boy."

"You're a half-blood?!"

Quintus chuckled. "Some of us do survive into adulthood. Not all of us are the subject of terrible prophecies."

Andy was about to ask him about said prophecy, when Chiron appeared. "I see you've met our new instructor. Quintus, do you mind if I borrow Andy?"

"Not at all, Master Chiron."

Andy said goodbye and walked away with Chiron. He asked about the empousai and Andy told him everything, including Kelli bursting into flames. "The more powerful ones can do that," Chiron said. "She did not die, Andy. She simply escaped. It is not good that the she-demons are stirring."

"It is not good that they were waiting for me. How did they know? Gods, I... If it weren't for Rachel..."

Chiron nodded. "Ironic to be saved by a mortal, yet we owe her a debt. But we can talk of this later. We're going to be late."

"Late for what?"

They had reached the forest, but Chiron was leading Andy through a path she did not know. "The Council of Cloven Elders is meeting to decide Grover's fate."

At the clearing, a bunch of satyrs were sitting in a circle in the grass. Grover stood in the middle, facing three really old and fat satyrs. He was telling them a story.

Standing off to one side of the circle were Anthony, a girl Andy didn't know, and Clarisse. Andy stood next to them. The small girl had wispy hair the color of amber and a pretty, elfish face. Her eyes were tinged green. She was dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief. "It's going terribly," she sniffled.

"No, no," Anthony patted her shoulder. "He'll be fine, Juniper." He looked at Andy and mouthed the words 'Grover's girlfriend'.

"Master Underwood!" the council member on the right shouted. "Do you seriously expect us to believe this?"

"B-but, Silenus," Grover stammered. "It's the truth!"

Silenus turned to his colleagues and muttered something. "Master Underwood, for months we have been hearing these scandalous claims that you heard the wild god Pan speak."

"I did!"

"Impudence!" said the elder on the left. "I've had it up to my horns with this nonsense. As if the wild god would speak to... to you!"

"For months," Silenus continued, "we have indulged you, Master Underwood. We let you travel. We allowed you to keep your searcher's license. We waited for you to bring proof of your preposterous claim. And what have you found in months of travel?"

"I just need more time," Grover pleaded.

"Nothing!" the elder in the middle chimed in. "You have found nothing!"

Chiron leaned in and said something to the satyrs. Silenus sighed and nodded. "Master Underwood," he announced, "we will give you yet one more chance."

Grover brightened. "Thank you!"

"One more week."

"What? But, sir! That's impossible!"

"One more week, Master Underwood. And then, if you cannot prove your claims, it will be time for you to pursue another career. Something to suit your dramatic talents. Puppet theater, perhaps. Or tap dancing."

"But, sir, I... I cannot lose my searcher's license. My whole life-"

"This meeting of the council is adjourned," Silenus said. "And now let us enjoy our noonday meal."

The circle of satyrs broke and Grover walked dejectedly toward Andy. "That went well, huh?"

"Those old goats!" Juniper said. "Oh, Grover, they don't know how hard you've worked!"

"There is another option," Clarisse said darkly.

"No. No." Juniper shook her head. "Grover, I won't let you."

His face was ashen. "I... I'll have to think about it. But we don't even know where to look."

"What are you talking about?" Andy asked.

In the distance, a conch horn sounded.

"I'll fill you in later, Andy," Anthony said. "We'd better get back to our cabins. Inspection is starting."

#andromeda #andy jackson #to stop the tide #fanfic #genderbend #dfcrosas #child of land and sea #anthony chase #rachel elizabeth dare

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