#the thought did cross my mind but humans are hard enough to draw. I didn't have the energy to figure dogs out too

[malachitezmeyka]

The Honeybun is cosplaying a cinnamon bun today apparently

(the smart camera feature on my phone clocked her as a cat. LOUD INCORRECT BUZZER)

[elronds-meleth-nin]

Bruinen's Eastern Shore - Part 2: By Mo(u)rning's Light

I know it took a bit, but here's part 2! If you want to be added to or removed from my taglist, please feel free to let me know!

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Elrond x Reader

[A/N: I haven’t seen RoP, and I don’t plan to, so this is Hugo Weaving’s Elrond. All of my knowledge regarding this universe comes from the Jackson movies and the books.]

Warnings: Slow burn, Elf x Human romance, age gap (obviously), mentions of combat, death, blood, undefined magic (I'm winging it so don't think about it too hard), injury/recovery, grieving, death of a parent (mentioned not seen), elvish singing.

~*~

My dreams were erratic at first, then they faded into something calmer. The screams of my dying people transformed into the sounds of a nearby waterfall and the gentle hum of a low, soothing voice. Was he singing or speaking? Perhaps both?

A flash of armor - somewhere between red and purple in hue - coupled with a kind, smiling face and pointed ears swam through my mind.

I knew that face, but my mind was too slow and fuzzy to place it with a name. My father would've berated me for forgetting, surely, but, why was I so sure of that when I didn't know who he was? My thoughts were lethargic, as if they were coated with honey as I tried to remember what I'd forgotten.

After a time, the armor he wore was changed for a tunic and a set of robes that looked softer than anything I'd ever before felt.

He was beautiful.

A light, amused laugh trickled over my ears and I wondered if I'd spoken aloud or if he could read peoples' thoughts.

"Sleep, brave lady," he urged, and his voice was so hypnotically soothing that I felt inclined to obey, "sleep and recover your strength. You are safe now."

And so I did. Oblivion was seductive, drawing me in as easily as a moth to a flame. Eventually, the warmth on my face coaxed me into opening my eyes as I wondered hazily whether I had truly transformed into a moth during my slumber.

But, it was not so. The sunlight streaming into the strangely elegant room confirmed my hopes. This place was like no other I'd seen before. There were no Orcs, no bleeding people, no abrupt, terrifying death. Only light, gentle and joyful, whispering its congratulations to me for surviving.

This was the home of Elves. It had to be!

Turning my head slowly, I noted that I was alone in this large, beautiful room. Adorned as though it belonged to a king rather than an injured mortal woman, this room boasted silk curtains fine enough that they were practically translucent. Bookshelves lined two of the four walls, arching over the doorway. Every bit of fabric in the space, including the blanket which covered me, was of the highest quality - not a stitch was out of place.

Cautiously, I tested my muscles, and, finding that there was no pain beyond the vague, lingering soreness that always followed physical exertion, I sat up in the plush bed. Instinct brought my hand to my sternum, and to my relief, my pendant was still there. I hadn't lost it!

As I moved, a nightgown as light and comfortable as a cloud whispered reassuringly over my skin - my clean skin.

I'd obviously been tended, healed, and bathed in my unconscious state. I felt a rush of gratitude for whomever had drawn the short straw and been subsequently tasked with removing the grime and black Orc blood that had dried on my skin and in my hair. I could feel no trace of any impediment as my fingertips ran through the strands near my shoulder. Patting the top of my head lightly, though, I discovered a pair of small braids running along either side of my scalp and merging at the back.

Tears welled up in my eyes, but I blinked them back. Someone had taken a great deal of time to care for me.

Rising carefully to my feet, I savored the texture of the warm, smooth stone beneath my feet - a simple pleasure that a life on the run had not afforded me for some time. The closest comparison in recent memory was a large stone on a riverbank that had been warmed in the sun, but even those could cut the soles of one's feet if caution wasn't utilized.

A tall pair of doors composed of wood and glass stood open, allowing a breeze inside and revealing a balcony bathed in sunlight. As soon as I reached the doorway, a gasp escaped my lips.

Laid before me was Imladris in all its glory. The sound I'd heard before wasn't just one waterfall as I'd assumed, but many. Cascading and caressing the landscape, spraying water droplets so completely illuminated that they appeared to be crystals flung from a treasure chest, they joined at the valley floor. Leaves grew from centuries' old trees in all shapes and colors, their rustling creating a symphony when the breeze caught them. More flowers than I could ever possibly count or name bloomed and blossomed, filling the air with sweet perfume, and upon the breeze were a few floating musical notes.

Was I entirely certain that I hadn't died? A place as lovely as this was beyond imagination! Surely, this could not all be real...?

"I am pleased to see you awake, but I did not expect to find you out of bed so soon, híril vuin." A familiar voice called from behind me, soft and soothing, not unlike the silence of his entry. I turned to face my visitor, and my breath caught in my throat.

Truly, even my mother's drawings could not do the Elven lord justice. His beauty was incomparable. The sunlight seemed not only to be streaming into the room, but emanating from within him, as well. His long, dark hair cascaded down his back with twin strands pulled in front of his ears, looping into intricate little patterns. His eyes, though gray, sparkled with joy and life. With the focus of such a gorgeous, regal Ellon solely on me, I could scarcely breathe.

I also felt woefully under-dressed in comparison. There I stood in naught but a nightgown when he was in robes of finer quality than I'd ever seen before.

"Lord Elrond," my voice came out embarrassingly rough and shaky from disuse. How long had I been out? "Forgive me, if I'd known you were coming–"

He held up a hand to halt the tidal wave of apologies that was certain to spill from my clumsy mouth.

"You owe me no apologies," the Elf murmured, giving me a warm smile. "Like your parents before you, I welcome you to Imladris with open arms."

Elrond's eyes were soft as he appraised my appearance. More gracefully than my muscles could have allowed, he walked toward me.

"How are you feeling?" Concern creased his brow as he offered me his hand. I took it without thinking, realizing a beat too late how rough my own fingers must feel compared to his own. "Do you have any lingering pain? Does anything feel wrong?"

"No, my lord. Your healers have done their jobs exceedingly well." At my statement, the Ellon smiled and allowed his thumb to skim over the back of my hand. "If I may, I'd like to thank them in person. I was rather a mess when you saved us."

"Caring for you was no trouble, I can assure you, my lady," he said, and before I could protest, he gave me a mock stern look. "I speak for none but myself. I tended you personally."

My eyes widened at that new piece of information. The Lord of Rivendell had healed me?

"My lord, I am incredibly grateful for your efforts, truly I am, but you needn't have wasted so much time on me."

With an indulgent smile, he looked into my eyes and lifted an eyebrow.

"Mellon-nin, you are well enough to stand on your own two feet again. I do not consider anything that I have done for you a waste of time," his assertion was gentle and sincere, sending butterflies swarming in my stomach. I needed to keep a tight leash on my emotions, otherwise I'd end up looking like an idiot. If I embarrassed myself in front of Lord Elrond after everything he'd already done for me, I was certain that I'd be so mortified that I'd have to leave Rivendell never to return. "Now, my lady, if you might have a seat upon the bed, I would like to check you over once more."

"Of course, my lord." He guided me back to the divinely plush bed with a hand over my lower back. With a soft, affectionate smile, Lord Elrond sat by my side and grasped my hands. Warmth flooded through me, and I couldn't help but wonder if that was magic.

"Your actions in the river...may I ask if you have done anything like that before?" The Elven lord asked as he assessed various points - a bruise on my shoulder that had already mostly disappeared, an angry, fading, red line where an Orc sword had found its mark, and various other places where no evidence was left of what injury had previously existed.

My cheeks burned at how closely he focused on both me and his work.

"In a way," I murmured as he pressed the backs of his fingers lightly against my forehead then my cheek. "Only small things, though. Silly, trivial little tricks."

He lifted his eyebrows in an encouraging, almost playful manner.

"Might I ask about the nature of these little tricks?" His fingers skimmed down my jawline, and I struggled to suppress a shiver.

With a mischievous smile, I took a deep breath to steady myself and looked over at the pitcher of water upon the bedside table. A flick of my fingers, and a bird made entirely of water formed standing atop the pitcher. It tilted its head and fluttered its wings as a real bird would, then took flight, swirling around the room. Its sparkling body whizzed past our heads, flapping its wings, and in a moment of impulsivity, I caught Lord Elrond's hand in mine and turned his palm upward. The bird's tiny water-feet landed in his hand, folding its wings down and looking up at him.

Only then did I allow myself to glance at the Elf lord's expression. The smile that played across his much-too-attractive mouth sent a bolt of satisfaction through me. To actively give a person like him a moment of wonderment...that was a heady sensation. It was very little in repayment for all that he had done for me, but it was a beginning.

"Incredible," he breathed as the bird hopped lightly across his palm. "How much of a strain does this place upon you?"

"Almost none at all. I learned to make shapes and objects with water when I was little, and I practiced whenever I was bored. For a child in a group of nomads, you there is a surprising amount of downtime between chores," I explained allowing the bird to changed into a large, watery, rose bloom upon the lord's hand. It wasn't even half as beautiful as someone like him deserved. "When I got older, one of the other children saw me practicing by the river, and these tricks became a way to entertain the little ones."

The laughter had lifted the entire camp's morale during those long, slow treks through the mountains or across barren stretches of land when setting up tents became monotonous. My father had been afraid of allowing me to use my abilities for quite some time, but even he had to admit that sometimes that bit of levity was just what was needed to lift his peoples' spirits.

My father. My people. So many had died, yet there I sat in a plush bed, creating silly little shapes in water. Had any lived besides myself?

As if he could sense my mood fading, Lord Elrond's eyes met mine just in time to see my own smile droop. With a flick of my fingers, I lifted the water from his hand and allowed it to dampen the soil in a few of the plants on the balcony.

Unable to meet my host's gaze for fear of what I might see, I lifted my chin and asked the question to which I dreaded finally having an answer.

"How many of my people survived?"

"Including yourself, my lady, three still live." Elrond's voice was full of sympathy and comfort, despite the horrible reality of what had transpired. "Five were brought here, but two had sustained wounds too severe for us to treat in time. I am so sorry."

Three. Assuming the other half of our people went unnoticed by the Orc hoard when we split up - and that was a big assumption - that meant there were only fifteen left. We'd been down to twenty four after the initial attack that killed my father. With nine more gone, I didn't know what to do exactly.

I nodded my head slowly, blinking away my tears and forcing myself to look at my host once more.

"The others who lived...may I see them?" He agreed easily.

"Of course, my lady. I shall take you to them," Elrond murmured. Practically gliding across the room, he plucked a soft, light blue robe and a pair of matching slippers from a small alcove.

With my arm looped through his, we walked down a long hallway lit only by the sun. The rest of his home was just as gorgeous as the single room I'd been in, but I did not absorb much of my surroundings that day. My emotions and obligations to my people occupied too much space in my mind for anything else to make an impression.

I heard him before I saw him - the angry, stubborn, gruff man who'd tried to call me away from the water the day we'd gotten into such trouble.

Surprise must have been etched across my features, because Lord Elrond released a quiet huff of laughter as we neared a pair of double doors.

"Ah, yes. Mekor has been asking after you in...his own way," my host stated, and I knew immediately what he meant. Mekor had likely been demanding to see me in a rather less-than-polite way. "Unfortunately, I have not been able to allow him out of bed. His leg will take some time to fully heal. That has not stopped him from embarking upon several unplanned excursions to attempt to find you, however."

I couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out of me. That sounded like him, alright.

When we pushed the doors open, his rather loud promise to one of the healers that he would 'gallivant as much it damn well took' ceased.

"There is no need for such drastic measures. Your lady is awake and quite capable of seeing you now," Elrond called as we walked toward the grumpy man's bedside. His leg was bound and heavily bandaged, laying atop the bedding presumably to keep him from sweating through his dressings.

"Lass, do you know how badly you scared us? What in the name of everything were you thinkin' runnin' back into the water like that? You could've been killed!" He spluttered angrily for a moment, but I was too used to his behavior to be bothered by it.

"I'm glad you're alive too," I said reaching out and grasping his rough, weathered hand in mine. Sitting gingerly beside him on the bed, I nearly fainted when I saw tears gathering in his eyes. He gripped my fingers with a fierce vengeance.

"Foolish bloody girl. What would your father have said if I let you run off and get killed?" Lord Elrond pulled the healer aside, and the pair spoke in hushed whispers on the other side of the room. He was trying to give us a moment's privacy while also ensuring his most stubborn patient didn't try to put weight on his obviously broken leg again.

"There was something different about that last group of Orcs, wasn't there?" I asked quietly, and my friend's gaze turned somber and angry.

"Aye, lass. Those weren't your garden variety filth. I've already spoken to Elrond about them. Those were soldiers. For so many of them to have Warg mounts..." The grizzled man shook his head slowly. "Something is stirring in the dark corners of the world. Something that doesn't want people like you, me, and your father to keep fighting."

I looked at him curiously, and he blinked as if remembering something.

"But, there will be plenty of time to discuss that later," he murmured changing the topic. I tucked that statement away for a day when we were both recovered.

Mekor and I spoke quietly for a few moments, in which I was told that the woman he'd taken a fancy to, Tannen, was the other survivor. The two who had reached Rivendell but died from their injuries were an old soldier called Algun, and a younger one around my age called Garatan. I knew them both in a peripheral manner. I was acquainted with all of my father's fighters and had trained with each at some point, but some I knew better than others.

After several long moments, a few more affectionate scoldings, and a promise that I'd help keep him from going out of his mind since he wasn't allowed to walk around yet, the doors opened once more. A young Ellon walked straight over to Lord Elrond, and after delivering a whispered message, both the lord and his messenger approached our sides.

"Forgive our interruption, but I think you both might like to know that your companion, Tannen has awakened," Lord Elrond said, and I knew precisely what Mekor would do. Pushing him back down on the bed when he tried to get to his feet, I gave him a stern look which paired surprisingly well with our host's continuation. "I realize you wish to see her, and you will be able to on the morrow. I wish to have her rest abed for one more night to be sure of her recovery, but I swear to you that if her health permits, you will see her tomorrow, Master Mekor."

He looked fit to be tied at Lord Elrond's statement, but with a glance at me, he let out a resigned sigh.

"Fine. Fine, but I shall hold you to that, laddie." To his credit, Elrond took his irritation in stride, an easy, amused smile finding its seemingly customary place upon his lips.

"I would be disappointed if you did not. For now, however, I believe your lady is in need of nourishment. Spending nearly four days asleep can take quite a toll on the appetite." I couldn't argue with his logic, and neither did my friend.

I did, however, have a bone to pick with the little somersault that my heart performed when Lord Elrond offered me his hand and a warm smile.

--

When he went to check on his guest that morning, Elrond had expected to find her awake, yet too weak or tired to get out of bed. She was strong, of course, but since she was mortal, her recovery time would be longer than that of his own people. He'd frozen in the doorway, however, with confusion knitting his brow at the sight of the empty bed before him.

A quick glance around the room nearly made his heart stop. The Elven lord's lips parted in surprise. Standing in the doorway that led to the balcony was not a frail, injured woman as he'd expected to see, but a goddess bathed in sunlight.

And, when he'd broken his silence and she turned to face him, her eyes met his, freezing his breath where it lay in his chest. She'd gazed at him with awe, but he doubted that she recognized that the feeling was very mutual. Elrond had noticed her beauty when he was tending to her, of course, but he'd been so focused on healing her that he'd not allowed his thoughts to linger. To do so would have been highly inappropriate, and was, as such, not the time to allow himself to become distracted.

Nor was it the time when he checked her over, asked about her powers, or took her to see her irritable friend. Elrond had heard of Mekor by reputation, of course, and he was secretly pleased that the ill-tempered Man had survived. Despite the barbs that were tossed his way when he'd put the old soldier on strict bedrest, he was glad that someone who was so determined to get back to his lady - who had fought so fiercely to protect her - still drew breath. Such loyalty could not be feigned.

She'd been more subdued than before when he brought her back to her chambers. Upon their return, the table near one of the windows held a tray of food and a pot of herbal tea which would help her regain her strength. It was a special blend that Elrond had perfected over the years in his capacity as a healer.

As the pair sat and ate together, the Elven Lord could not help but notice the dark mood that settled over her. Although she tried to hide it, she was being tormented by her thoughts.

He had seen that look before - minute flashes of grief that she attempted to keep out of his sight, her shoulders tensing as if she was carrying the weight of all Middle Earth on her own. Many of his warriors had been plagued by the same darkness when they returned from battle, wondering why they had survived when so many others had not. Some recovered. Some sailed for Valinor when they could not find the strength to move forward.

No. He could not allow this to go on. She was descended of both Elves and Men. She had the ability to process her grief and allow her pain to transform into that which would strengthen her. His lady might need some assistance to begin the process, but there was a sort of quiet power in her eyes. Elrond saw it every time he looked at her. By the Valar, he would do whatever it took to ensure that she would not fall. Not to this. Not to grief. That emotion had consumed too many of his people...had sent too many of them sailing to the Undying Lands before their time.

He would not allow this pain to take her. She'd seen so many horrors in her brief time on Middle Earth. If he could take even an ounce of her pain and use it to heal her, the Lord of Imladris was resolved to do it.

But, it had to be soon. It had to be that night, before the pain took root in an irreversible manner. They'd both experienced losses many times, but this was different. This was close to her heart.

When she attempted to hold back a yawn and failed rather spectacularly, Elrond was tugged from his thoughts as a smile played across his lips. She gave a sheepish laugh, and he suggested that she get some rest. They'd been talking for several hours at that point. If he truly planned to help her tonight, she needed to conserve her energy.

Taking the empty tray with him to deposit in the kitchens, the Ellon excused himself and strode down the corridor. He'd made it halfway back to his study when Lindir caught up to him.

"I have done as you asked," the younger Ellon said to his lord.

"Then the preparations have been made?" Elrond asked as the pair continued down the hall.

"Yes, hir-nin, but are you certain that tonight is truly the right time?" Lindir had a point, and if it was anyone else he would risk waiting, but for her he was not willing to place her future in the hands of chance, especially if what he suspected was true.

"I saw her pain...it already hangs over her like a cloud. If she is to move forward, then we must do this." He was accustomed to his own grief - he had, after all, lived for so very long...had known so many people.

"But, is she not still exhausted?"

Pausing before the door to his study, Lord Elrond turned to face Lindir.

"She is tired, yes, but she is more resilient than even I could have predicted. She is ready. She needs this release." Her Númenorian blood was potent, that was for certain. It did not matter that she was descended from the race of Men. She also had Elvish blood in her veins. She was Dúnedain, even if she did not yet know it - perhaps one of the most unique that had ever been born, if he was interpreting the signs correctly. She could handle this.

--

Soft notes floating upon the night air drew me from the realm of sleep. A strange yet familiar prickling sensation curled across my skin, caressing my face, my neck, and my arms where the sleeves of my borrowed nightgown ended.

As light as a whisper, my mind supplied an answer: magic.

Magic was in the air. The realization was somehow both comforting and intriguing. When I finally mustered the energy to open my eyelids, a voice joined with the faint strains of music, and I looked toward the balcony.

There, with the silver circlet upon his brow gleaming in the moonlight and a set of robes as deep as the night sky adorning his figure, Lord Elrond stood singing. My breath caught in my throat even as his voice danced through the night, filling the Hidden Valley with an aria both gentle and mournful. When we spoke earlier, his voice had sounded lovely and soothing, but this stirred something deep within my soul.

It was ridiculous, because he was on my balcony in the first place, but I felt as though I was intruding upon something incredibly personal.

One-by-one, several other voices joined with the lord's, harmonizing and adding several haunting layers of melancholy dimension, turning his aria into a duet, then a trio, a quartet, continuing on until there was a full-fledged choir of ten. He stood facing not into the valley, but with his left side toward me.

As silently as I could, I slipped out of bed and took a slow step toward him. Cupped gently in Elrond's hands was a smooth, round, stone lantern glowing white. It was obviously fueled by something other than fire. The light caressed his features as affectionately as a lover's fingertips, and before I could even think of moving, his eyes met mine.

The glow of a thousand stars, the wisdom of all the ages of the world, and the grief of a painful loss danced through his irises as I stood paralyzed. Extending a hand in my direction, the Lord of Imladris offered me a silent invitation.

As I approached his place on the balcony, I glanced quietly around, noting that other ethereal lanterns and their bearers dotted various spots around the valley. How many others were involved in this? And what was this, exactly? I didn't dare ask aloud, lest I interrupt the haunting choir of voices in their mission.

When I reached him, Lord Elrond's hand guided both of mine to the lantern in his grasp. Looking between the seemingly living radiance in our hands and his eyes, I watched as the light grew between us, seemingly fed by the addition of my touch.

I knew without asking that this wasn't just a sad melody. This was a lamentation for the nine lost in our flight across land and river.

But, there were ten lanterns...

A single tear spilled down his cheek, and all at once it hit me. The tenth lantern was for my father. Twin tears of my own escaped my eyes as the music swelled, as the voices grew louder.

He saw my grief just as I saw his.

Neither of us looked away from the vulnerability we were both displaying so openly. Neither of us released the lantern between us. The song began rattling around in my ribcage, jostling my heart and shaking free every ounce of pain that I hadn't realized I'd started bottling up. Though I didn't know the lyrics, I caught a few Sindarin words that I recognized, and one that puzzled me.

The light in our hands pulsed brightly as at least a dozen more voices joined in. Smaller lights bloomed to life in their hands all through Imladris, and I must not have been able to keep the wonder off of my face, because a flicker of a sad smile crossed Elrond's lips as he began lifting our hands higher.

His arms were longer than mine, and I had to take a step closer to remain in contact with the strange, magical lantern. As I watched, the light floated up and away from its thin, nearly transparent stone rim and into the sky. The other bearers of the original ten lights were experiencing the same phenomenon, and after a few moments, the fleet of smaller bright dots followed in their wake.

The Hidden Valley was filled with stars, rising ever upwards toward the heavens. As far as I'd heard, very few mortals had ever been honored by the Elves upon their deaths, and never like this.

As the music diminished, voices fell slowly away, taking with them pieces of the heavy ache that had settled in the hollow spot in my heart. First, the many who had joined last, then one-by-one, each of the other nine singers went silent.

Then, it was only Elrond singing the last few mournful notes. But, there was something different about the words, now. They were lighter...more hopeful. Setting the darkened, empty lantern aside, he took both of my hands in his large, warm ones as the last notes flowed effortlessly, beautifully off his tongue and into the night.

The physical contact felt like an anchor point keeping me tethered to the ground when I felt like I could float away in the wake of such an outpouring of emotion. The air still hummed with magic when I found myself reaching up and gently wiping the tears from Lord Elrond's cheeks. I hadn't even meant to do it, but I couldn't help myself. An Ellon as kind as he did not deserve to have tear tracks dry on his handsome face.

It hit me, then, that I had taken an enormous liberty, but instead of batting my hands away, the Elven lord returned the gesture with a soft smile.

His touch lingered for several long moments even after my own face was dry, and something passed between us, then, that made my heartbeat stutter in my chest.

No, I was obviously imagining things. A trick of the light, that's all it was. When he wrapped his arms around me, however, I couldn't ignore how wonderful it felt to be safe, to be cared for...to be seen.

~*~*~

Elvish Translations:

híril vuin = beloved lady

mellon-nin = my friend

~*~

Taglist:

@asksizworld

[ghostflowerdreams]

If the Lost Boys have been living in Santa Carla for a while, it was probably rare for them to go wild and feast on an entire group of people.

Sure, they did it to a couple of Surf Nazis at a bonfire party, but I think that was more to show off to Michael and to get him to truly understand that he's one of them now. I also think the mess was purposely done to get him to complete his initiation. Ya know, because the scent of all that fresh blood should've been hard to resist.

It didn't work, but the interesting thing is that they clean up after themselves. They rip bodies apart, which was either to make it easier to get rid of them by burning them to ashes or to prevent accidental vampires. For this reason, I don't accept Lost Boys: The Tribe as a real sequel because it just doesn't make sense canonically.

I also like to think that the boys know how to be subtle when they need to be. They don't feed on people who would draw the attention of the police or media. They don't leave drained corpses out in the open. If anything, they probably burn them to ashes or take them back into the hotel-cave to dispose of them.

Why else would they have those metal drum barrels? It probably wasn't just to use as a light source, and vampires don't get cold. I suppose if they're close to the ocean, they can even dump the bodies there. But not without making sure it's tied to a cinder block or something to prevent it from getting washed up on shore.

It's possible that they don't need to feed every night either. I think they're able to survive with one or two mortals. We saw this with the boardwalk security guard on one night and the Surf Nazi leader Greg and his girlfriend Shelly on another. Don't forget that they're still able to consume human food and drink too, but it wouldn't be enough to sustain their life or provide any nutrition like blood does. It probably only helps to keep them full for an extra day or two.

I do think they're also capable of feeding without it resulting in death. They might do that sometimes, especially when it's off-season on the boardwalk. Because maybe during that time any missing persons might be scrutinize a bit more? Of course, nothing is stopping them from going out of Santa Carla to hunt and coming back when they're done.

Speaking of which, something that crossed my mind was that Max's excuse for not being there during the day was because he was busy opening a second store in Los Gatos. It could've been just a lie, but what if it wasn't? If he was as well off as he appeared to be, he could've easily made arrangements and paid others to set it up for him. He could've been going there to hunt too. Or maybe he was planning to leave Santa Carla in a few years, but his plans changed when he met Lucy. Maybe he thought it'd also make for a perfect place to set up a new life for himself and his new family. Either way, he would've need to eventually leave Santa Carla, before people start questioning why he hadn't been aging after a significant amount of years.

[bitchfitch]

The priest was sitting in the pews when the angel arrived. One leg kicked up to rest on the back of the seat in front of him, his other crossed over it, a crime fiction novel with well worn pages between his hand. He looked up from his book to the warrior glowing golden and resplendent in the center of the aisle. His soft brown eyes crinkling at the corners at the sight.

"Lassie. It's been an age," his smile was crooked, the false teeth glinting between the real ones.

"Lasha," the angel corrects him curtly, his arms crossing over the organic armor that covered his chest. The feathers around his masked face fluffing up with his irritation.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Just thought we'd getting close enough for nicknames. Like friends do. You know?" he drawled. "Lassie ain't it? How 'bout La-la?"

"Stop teasing me, Father Casimir."

"Stop being so fun to tease," he snorted and closed his book to set it aside on one of the countless empty seats around him. "Here for confession then?"

"How much time do you have?"

"You know it's Thursday, Sweet pea. No evening service so I've got all the time you need."

Lasha shifted his weight from foot to foot, "Do the..." he trailed off. Not wanting to say or even think what he was about to ask.

"The wards? Yeah, big man won't hear a thing you say," he stood and stepped into the aisle. Putting a hand on the angel's shoulder to guide him to the confessional.

Lasha was silent on the way there. His metal heels and the stoney balls of his feet clicking on the hard wood floor. His halo covered his eyes, but Casimir still felt Lasha was avoiding looking at him.

The doors to the confessional creaked, Casimir made a note to himself to oil the hinges when Lasha left. The old and well worn seats creaked too when they sat but the church didn't have the budget to hire a furniture maker to repair those.

"In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen," Lasha begins his glow fading as he began speaking, "Bless me father for I have sinned," his flat and controlled tone drifted to something more open and unguarded, "It's been... Five weeks since my last confession. My duties have kept me busy but still I have been wandering from my path. I have been envious and wrathful and..." he stops, a creature like him doesn't need to breathe but still he sighs, "And I've lusted. For a human."

Casimir listened, smirking to himself as he flicked through a bible just to make the pages rustle. "Wrath I expected, but these other two are new... Do you still struggle with your orders? Fulfilling them and not letting yourself get carried away?" he quashed his smugness to put the appropriate level of 'serious but warm' in his voice

"Yes, that's the wrath I spoke of."

"Hm, Wrath is what you were made to dish out. You are a guardian and soldier of heaven, it is not wrong for you to allow your very nature to influence you."

"But," Lasha prompted him to continue

"But nothing. I know you can't tell me much of your duties, but I also know you to be a reasonable and level headed guy. Your wrath is divine, Lasha. Do as you were made to do."

"I've enjoyed hurting people. It's not right-"

"It's not right to take pleasure from your work? Sweet pea, if your father wanted you to be weeping while you cut down the damned, wouldn't he have made you so?"

Lasha is quiet, he's always so quiet when Casimir weaves his gentle words into the doubtful voids of Lasha's mind.

"I've envied," he said, moving on from one uncomfortable topic to the next.

"Humanity?"

"How did you know?"

"You're an angel who comes to confession, Lasha. I can draw some conclusions from... past experiences."

"Oh."

"Going to tell me what had you wanting?"

"I had a job within a museum. Weeks I spent as a guard there, waiting for a demon."

"Ah, the ability to create it is then? It's a normal thing for an angel to envy. Our god is one of creation so to be denied such an ability... Well I can understand the envy that might cause."

"I envied the mothers."

"Hm?"

"The mother's and the fathers, they came to the museum with children. All ages. There were bad and hurtful ones, but the love of the parents for their children. The nurturing and the cultivation of something so unique and new and precious -" he stops himself. "I envied that none of them were made and branded a destroyer of life instead of a cultivator of it."

"You'd want to be a father?" Casimir could hardly imagine Lasha holding a child, much less raising one.

"I want the choice."

"I've heard of children being born to angel fathers-"

"And those fathers were cast out. It is not an angel's place to fill a human's roll but I want to."

"Oh, Lasha," Casimir hadn't expected this. Lasha had been chosen because he was a destroyer... would he still be useful to their plan if that wasn't what he blossomed into after his fall? "Cast those thoughts from your mind, and enjoy the beauty from afar. Again, it is understandable, and there is no shame. But as you said yourself, it is not to be your lot."

Casimir heard the shake of feathers from the other side of the wall. Lasha's broad wings thumping on its sides as he roused and tried to free himself of the tension that settled over him.

"Tell me of the human you lust for. A man I suspect?"

"You need to get out of my head," Lasha huffed bitterly.

"It was just a guess. What is he like?"

"What does it matter? He is not to be mine."

"Yes, but discussing this may help your mind settle," Casimir already knew the angle harbored a crush on him. He'd gone to great lengths to cultivate it. A filthy seed of desire that would never be able to be explained away or burried out of sight.

"He's... What I wish I was. Kind, virtuous, devout. He doesn't turn me away when I go to him, or treat me as something other."

"That's all very sweet, but are you sure you lust for him instead of envy him?"

"I- I want to touch him, and be touched. I want to be held. I've seen him touch others and I boiled with want."

Casimir couldn't stop himself from chuckling. "Lasha, is this want sexual? or is it merely a desire to connect with him? Angels are allowed friends, and friends touch and hold eachother from time to time. Even non-friends will clasp hands or pat eachother on the shoulder."

"I want him."

"How? Would you be satisfied with a hug, or time spent with him doing something like a puzzle? Or is this want truly sexual in nature?"

"I don't know. Is it not sexual to want to touch?"

"Not always. Very very many people, angel and human alike, use touch to connect and feel connected. I do not think you lust for this man, merely that you'd like to be closer to him." Casimir knew Lasha would want more, but he also knew the poor thing was virginal and naive. Scared of his every desire and emotion to the point that if he did understand his own lust he'd be gone from Casimir in an instant.

"Oh. Do you think he'd be upset if I tried?"

"I think that if we are thinking of the same person, he'd be glad to get to spend more time with you and connect with you in such a way."

"You know it's you, don't you?"

"This isn't the only muted confessional, Sweet pea. You had options but continued to return to me. I mean it though. If you want to, I have a big puzzle in the rectory I've been having difficulty finishing on my own. Five thousand pieces if you can believe such a thing."

"I have duties to attend to..."

"And you know where I'll be when you're done with them."

Lasha is quiet again, before muttering the softest "Thank you," Casimir had ever heard from a creature known to rip heads from necks with their bare hands.

"Do you have anything else to confess, something that's an actual sin maybe?" Casimir would prod him.

"No, thank you Fa- Casimir."

Lasha left without another word or waiting for the absolution part of a confession. No flash of light or puff of smoke, just one minute he was there, and the next Casimir could feel the emptiness of the building around him.

His steps from the confessional back to where he left his book squelched on the damp carpet. The thick pulsing of the veins that ran through it being Interupted by his over polished boots. Settling down back into the flesh warm seat he returned to his marked page.

He really did hope Lasha would visit more. There was no one besides him left in town, and most of the other angels, as blind as they were to his gods creeping filth, were clever enough to get an off feeling from him.

Not Lasha though.

Lasha had always been so open to him. Like he already wanted to fall and just needed the right excuse and some motivation to take the plunge.

[mintmoth]

OKAY I'm gonna do a big ask response here! There's a few I didn't grab which are mostly just people saying sweet things- to which honestly I can't thank you all enough 😭 it's so wild to me to see people enjoying my art so much

I'm gonna keep most of the replies under the cut since it's gonna get a bit long but I wanted to touch on this one real quick-

Absolutely anyone is free to use my art as an icon wherever! Just be sure to have something crediting somewhere and yeah absolutely go for it!

OH ALSO my submissions don't work on mobile for some reason? The formatting messes up I guess, but check out this awesome coloring!! I love how the layers of shading look 😭

LMAO okay so I've seen a good handful of older/mafia au designs for Floyd and Jade and a lot of them have either both of them with double sleeves or Floyd with sleeves and Jade with a back piece- though I've also seen somewhere both of them having one sleeve on the opposite side

Right now I'm just messing around so I don't have any official tattoo designs for either of them, but I do know I want Floyd with at LEAST the double sleeves, and Jade with some pieces he keeps hidden by mostly wearing business attire lmao

XBSISNK THANK YOU 😭😭 honestly drawing hair is one of my absolutley FAVORITE things to draw lmao, most of my ocs have long hair I just can't help it honestly

YES ABSOLUTLEY probably not too often but I could definitely see Azul going to bed and waking up to a very full bed lmao. Funnier yet because I think all three of them are the type to cling in their sleep when they have someone else beside them. They're just weird sea creatures used to small comfy spaces

I actually haven't thought about this! Honestly I think that would be really cool! Or even if he found that he had a specific shade range of color blindness as a human- though I could see Jade and Floyd taking advantage of that by doing something like giving him the wrong color shirt to wear that day or something lmao

Though you also reminded me! Eels also have terrible eyesight! So I've seen people both having the headcanon that the twins wear contacts, and also the headcanon that Azul needs glasses now because he did a deal to give part of his vision to both of them

Honestly it's really cool to think about! I don't know which headcanons here I like the most, but I love seeing them

Okay honestly I absolutley have to draw this because I LOVE this idea and part of why I'm answering this is to mentally catalogue that I need to draw this lmao

I also love this idea! Like at lunch, after classes before they go to work at the lounge, and after the lounge closes up for the night it just becomes the twins' gossip hour lmao

Because yeah they do spend a lot of time together, but they're still apart a lot, and there's no way they're not telling each other about all the nonsense they're getting up to once they meet back up

DBSISNSK DONT CRY LMAO I got a handful of questions about Niles I want to try to touch on here

Absolutley he wouldn't mind helping anyone set up games on their computer lmao, especially if it's a hard to get visual novel that he's a fan of because he's the type to want everyone to play and love the games he loves

He's definitely dropped hundreds of hours into "creature crossing" with one of those islands with tons of customization and cute shit, and his "island creatures" are mostly cats with a couple dogs and the pegasus LMAO

Also while he's not directly inspired by any specific character, since he's in Ignihyde he does have a little Greek mythos theming and has some inspiration from Eros, which is also why he's very "love" themed/romantic

OH MAN I'm actually not 100% sure which moray I think the twins would be, I'd have to look more into them specifically

But I did want to mention that my idiot self is tempted to make Yet Another Oc (though I probably won't post this one since I feel very oc heavy already) that's also a moray- but specifically a snowflake just because wow I want to make a design around the coloration they have 😭

ALSO!!! Regarding Eel Anon!

I wasn't able to screenshot everything you sent but it was absolutley fun hearing about the dorm idea you have!! I love hearing about new dorm concepts and I've seen a couple nightmare before christmas dorms so it's neat to see the different ideas people have! Also no way do Eri and Rika sound like knock offs of the twins lmao they both sound really fun and I like how they juxtapose one another- also how you have their whole family worked out??? It just reminded me I need to do some more backstory work for my group lmao but honestly it was really cool reading about them so don't even worry about long asks or anything!

[happyselves]

Budapest { Lando Norris x reader one shot }

Breaking up sucks as it is, but to be dumped in an airport where you were going to a grand prix of formula 1 was worse … It was both of your dreams and he renounced it because of insecurities toward you. Admitting a “mistake” he had made with one of your commun friends, sleeping with her. You had to think fast in that airport, either you leave and go live one of your dreams or you step out of his place and go back home and cry for weeks. The answer was quickly found. You leave him and his baggage, not turning your back, deciding to not cry for the asshole you had spent so many time building a life he had destroyed in a snap of his fingers.

However the grand prix didn’t happen how you wanted it to. You had not really thought of him, too busy with the environment around you, sharing for your favorite drivers, freely wearing his merch that you had bought because you didn’t have any reason not to know that you didn’t have someone telling you off. Your now ex used to hate when you were showing your obsession and fascination toward the young driver that was Lando Norris. The dit driver had a great start but all his effort went in vain when the Mercedes driver hit the back of his car and ruined his race, forcing him to retire.

At first you didn’t know how to react, but when you saw him on the big screen in front of you, all the sadness and frustration and all the anger and hatred toward your ex boyfriend was transferred to this. You wanted to leave right away, but you stay, to support your team because Daniel Ricciardo was still in the race. You cheered as much as you could, exhausting yourself mentally and physically but it wasn’t enough and the number 3 car was too damaged to reach the point in the head. It was a shame, but that is the hard law of this sport. After this terrible race you had no heart in celebrating the win for Ocon even if you were extremely happy for him, so you went back to your hotel and went to bed.

The next day was quiet and you spent time in the city, you didn't feel great so you just walked through the city and visited stuff … alone. This time no crowd and loud car could distract you from your own thoughts. Your ex boyfriend was all you could think about now. The memories you had together, the dog, the apartment. By leaving and not facing it you were pushing the moment and you knew it will hurt even more next time you will have to face him.

It was the evening and it was getting cooler, you get your merch hoodie out of your bag and wear it. You find a nice spot on a bench in front of the river crossing the city and you put yourself in a cocoon, your legs closed to your chest and your head on your knees, hugging yourself for comfort as you watch the sunset. The tears came on their own, you were lost in your thoughts and you didn’t notice the man sitting next to you. You were so lost that you were now hearing Lando talking to you in your brain.

“You know it’s a pretty spot to watch the sunset, but not alone,” You puff a quick laugh, even your own mind was making stuff up and you didn’t know why, but you were ready to have a full conversation with yourself. At least your brain was nice enough to create someone that looked like your favorite driver. “ That’s funny, I’m that desperate that I’m talking to myself now, great, next stop the psy,” you weren’t waiting for any response, but you got one anyway. “ Well maybe your brain isn’t making this up ?” Another sound came out of you, were you ready to have a full argument with your own self. “ It wouldn’t be the first time I’m daydreaming about a handsome man talking to me out of nowhere, but I know my luck, why do you think I got dumped just before going on vacation ? I’m nothing … “ You were resigned, the tears kept falling and the pain kept coming. “ Well then he is an idiot, to let a beautiful woman, with great taste may I have, go. This man is obviously blind.” You had a great imagination to be able to hear Lando’s voice so clearly in your head that it felt like he was just next to you.

You turn your head toward what you thought the voice was coming from and there he was, sitting next to you, looking at you with fondness. Damn you really needed help if even your blurry eyes by the wet tears could recreate his whole body and face in front of you.

At any point you thought it might be true even if you were both in the same city, the odds were too big and he would probably be in his hotel room by now enjoying some games with his mates on his computer or watching netflix.

“ That’s not fair that you create this for me, I do not deserve to have such a beautiful daydream like this, seeing him this weekend from afar was one thing but to now trick me and build this masquerade in my mind to ease my pain, that’s really new brain.” You were feeling crazy and you were trying not to sound like one, you were talking to yourself and you were scared that others will think of you as someone with less sanitary than an average human being.

Yet, your fake Lando get closer to you and start touching your arm, you didn’t even flinch when you sense his touch, you know you wouldn’t be able to feel anything because if one thing you learn is that touching isn’t a sense the brain is capable of reproduction to the perfection in your brain when you are dreaming. Then why were you feeling it, why suddenly his touch felt so reassuring and real. You blind repeatedly trying to wake yourself from this sweet dream you were living because this couldn’t be real and it was starting to feel scary.

Lando didn’t move his arm from you even if you tried to gently push him away and put some distance back between you. You weren’t certain this wasn’t reality anymore because as you took his arm, you felt him, your grip on him was real. You lock your eyes on him, focusing on every detail of this creation in your own mind. You knew the shirt he was wearing and the shorts as well, you knew how he looks after running as well so that was a normal thing, but every little detail of him only a person being super close to him could imagine, that you had never experienced and yet here everything was here in front of you. He never felt so him and so real in the flesh. Your fingers found the scruff on his chin and felt the small hair tickling your palm.

That’s where you realise … Lando Norris was in front of you, in the flesh as real as you wear. You come back right back to your senses when you see the sunset and keep drawing beautiful colors in the sky. Lando was amused by the situation, you weren’t.

“ Oh sleeping beauty is coming back from the daydream ?” Somehow he arranges a lock of hair missing on your face, putting it behind your ear. You jerk at the touch now knowing that you were imagining things. You stand up quickly and try to avoid him, walking like a lunatic in front of the bench right to left. “ You know, you are the first fan I've met that acts like this, quite refreshing. “ You stop and track and look at him, really look at him.

“ How do you know I am a fan of yours ?” If this wasn’t the dumbest question you had ever asked, you didn’t know how to be more embarassing of yourself.

“ Well at first I wasn’t really sure, then I saw you on that bench, curl up in a small little ball wearing my hoodie merch, then you basically confirm it when you thought I was a pure product of your imagination,” You were hiding your face now, you bet your cheeks were red. You were mortified to ever have thought you were this desperate that your brain could be creating him, but even more when you knew he had to witness that.

“ I’m sincerely sorry, I ruined your evening run, “ You were apologizing to him, ready to take your bag and run away from this situation, to forget everything that happened. It wasn’t the best timing for you to meet one of your idols, that’s not how you had imagined things to go if one day you would have the courage to try and meet him.

As you tried to take your bag, he stopped you and took your arm. It was like the first, but this time all you could think about was the butterflies appearing in your stomach. Lando was the only person you could dump your boyfriend for … your ex-boyfriend. Before you had time to dive in your thoughts once more he spoke to you.

“ Please don’t go, I should be the one apologizing, I let you think you were insane because I was amused and you’ve made my day to be honest. I felt less alone. “ He was brutally honest suddenly and your heart shattered even more, making your recent break up put on the second plan, focusing on the man in front of you only.

It’s true that you didn’t notice at first, but he was looking tired, not only physically but mentaly. He brings you closer to him, silently asking you to sit where you were in the beginning.

You were both smiling to each other and without any of you being able to control it you end up talking a long time on that bench, not realising it was now dark. Only when Lando’s phone buzzed did you both realise that you had been exchanging your deepest secrets to each other, telling each other's life like you were best friends finding their way back to each other. You even forgot he was a famous racing driver at some point, not caring much because you were now truly seeing the man behind the helmet and you like him even more.

You sense a sort of sadness when he picks up his phone to respond to his manager. Of course they were worrying, he told them he was gone for half an hour, not three hours. You thought he would lie about where he was, being cheeky and keeping his privacy and you were ready to take that small hit behind your head that you bring you both back into your respective life, otherwise he surprised you once more by being honest and telling his manager the truth. He was smiling at you and his eyes were glued on your face with that same fondness you thought your brain had made up earlier. He hanged up and his body turn toward you.

“ So as you can guess I have to go, but I have the feeling that if I don’t ask to come with me, it would be one of the biggest mistakes of my life, so … “ He was scared to continue, evaluating the reaction on your face, but he must have seen something in you that confirmed something in him and made him continue, “ I’m not applying anything, it’s to talk obviously, but would you like to accompany me to my hotel and maybe see each other again ? I’m leaving wednesday night, of course you can refuse I wouldn’t take it bad”

Two choices were now in front of you and you could only choose one. The first one was obviously saying no and going back to England where you are from and facing the hard reality of your ex and the second one was to push your plane ticket to next wednesday and spend time with him. There was actually nothing to think about as you simply said yes to him and followed him to his hotel that night. You didn’t do anything, only talking and even meeting the whole team. You tried your best not to fangirl like a teenager but you couldn’t help yourself showing the admiration you had for everyone of them and they already knew with the hoodie you were wearing anyway. That night was one of the best in your life, you talk all night in his room and end up falling asleep on his chest. It is the first time since you’ve been alone that you finally find peace in your sleep and truly rest and somehow you felt it was the same for him. This is why he asks you to stick around with him, even for the Pirelli test. You were not only living your dream now, but you were living it with him and it was even better. You felt lucky and you were now wondering what would have happened if you had not gone to that place and kept those grand prix tickets. You could care less, Lando made you forget all the pain this ex of yours had afflicted you for the past week. You had fun and everyone was so welcoming and nice to you, explaining everything around the paddock, you even found yourself laughing with Daniel Ricciardo at some point during the day.

The looks you send to each other on the other hand were far from being only friendly, there were something more. Your body was acting on its own and he was so receptive to it. Everyone in the garage could sense something that both of you were ignoring, but they were polite enough not to make a word of it or tease the young driver for it. You were secretly thanking them to not make this moment awkward, you were already still thinking you were in a deep dream or coma, not wanting to wake up just yet.

The day went fast and ended up in a nice dinner in his room, still talking and joking. At some point it was the second night in a row you fell asleep on him, while watching something on tv. It really wasn’t your type to trust a stranger even if this one was famous and you “ knew him “. You didn’t want to live dangerously,but for sure that difficult time ahead of you was making you enjoy the best of life without thinking about the next day.

Lando was stroking you slowly as he was finishing the movie you were watching before you found Morphee, kissing your head before turning everything off and joining you in dreamland as well.

You were sure the people at your own hotel were wondering where you were,and when the next day you finally came back to it, Lando quickly behind you, you could swear you had seen a smirk flashing on the front desk woman’s face. You hadn’t expected the man next to you to find a way and arrange the plane ticket you had to take for going home, to be weirdly the same plane as him and the seat next to him. You both didn’t really want to come back to reality and go to your respecting mundane life just yet.

The last day was as good as the day before other than that bittersweet feeling you had depe down, not wanting to let this go just yet. You didn’t know how you could enjoy this little bit of life he had show you, you were already addicted to this lifestyle, to that travel, hotel and paddock life, this crazy life of him and most important you knew how fucked you were because you realise soon enough that you were already addicted to him quite simply.

Both of you were staying quiet about your soon departure from each other and until the last moment you didn’t aboard the subject, but every good dream had a end and it’s on that parking lot when you saw the whole team leaving one by one to find their car that you realise it was the end of his fairy tale. Lando had held your hand tight the whole time, you were ready to let it go and leave this mind forever when he decided otherwise and asked you where you were going tonight now that you weren’t with your boyfriend. You hadn’t thought of that of course you hadn’t, how can you think about this when this beautiful and genuine nice man in front of you had replaced as quickly as he came in your life all your thoughts. It’s like he knew right away and didn’t let you answer, your luggage was already in the lack of his car with him and you were both driving to his place. Every woman would be afraid, why weren’t you that was the question.

“ I’m not ready to let you go, I don’t want to, “ That what he said to you as he pull his car in front of his house before adding up, “ I don’t even think I will be able to let you go ever in the rest of my life, “ You didn’t know what to say to that, you were only focusing on him, only him and the only thing you could think about right now was the close that damn gap between you two and kiss him. So you did and it was even more beautiful that the fireworks on national day, the butterflies in your stomach were moving so much that you could feel yourself flying except you were still in this car with him, his hands in your hair, messing the already messy bun you had for travelling, savoring every bit of your lips for the first time, like it was the last. When you finally pull away from each other to catch your breath, your forehead finds him.

“ I’m not going anywhere. “

MASTERLIST

[itsthestutterforme]

Escort 1/2 (Jang Hanseok)

Summary: You're an escort that Jang Hanseok has had his eyes on for a while. He finally invites you to his house for the night.

--

"What's his name again?" You ask your madame, and she hands you a file in response. You open the file to see a familiar looking man. He was the CEO of Babel, Jang Hanseok.

And for some odd reason, he chose you to be his escort for the night. There were plenty women prettier and more experienced but he chose you. "He paid for the entire night," your madame explains. "But what about my regulars?" "They were pushed until tomorrow,"

"How did they take that?" "They're big boys, they can handle it," she says, making you chuckle. "Make sure to have fun, I've heard he's like a tiger in bed." "What does that mean?" "You'll see,"

**

You smooth your hands over your silk black dress after you ring the door bell, careful not to cross your arms to seem closed off. Your heart was starting to race as you heard footsteps acend towards the door. Pull yourself together, Y/N. He's not your first client.

The door opens to reveal the chiseled face of Jang Hanseok. He's rubbing his hair dry with a towel and standing before you shirtless and wearing gray sweatpants. He definitely hits the iron because every peck and crevice of his chest is solid and defined.

He knows exactly what he's doing. He throws the towel over his shoulder and reaches out to touch your face.

He draws his thumb over your cheek. "Soft," he says to himself before turning away and walking back into his loft. You follow him in and close the door behind you. His loft is like many of your clients, vast and spaceous with minimal decor and life.

Your eyes fall to a small version of the Babel Tower with it's light flashing. "You like it?" "Is it really going to be a hundred floors?" "What's wrong with that?" "Well if you don't see spendung have your time in the elevator as a problem, then no." You say, making him chuckle softly.

"There it is," he says. "There what is?" He grabs your chin and pulling you towards him. "Your smart mouth," he whispers against your lips. "You know, when I first saw you, you put a man in his place because he thought it was okay to touch a woman as she walked by." He adds.

He leans in so close you would practice taste him. "And that was the hottest thing I've ever seen." He sizes you up before pulling away from you. You surpress the whine from the loss of contact.

He sits down on his couch and man spreads as he turns on the TV. Leaving you hot and bothered, you toss you purse on the counter and sat across from him. He just sits there with one hand on his lap and the other clicking through the channels.

"So are we just going to watch TV all night?" He doesn't respond, but glances over at you. You huff with annoyance. Watch him be the type that wants me to beg. Well he has the wrong woman tonight because you don't beg.

He seems patient enough, let's see how far he'll let you go. You stand from you spot on the couch and slowly approach him but he doesn't move a muscle or acknowledge your existence.

You sit in his lap and roll your hips to get comfortable. He clears his throat but you could tell that he was trying to suppress a moan. You take his chin into your hand and sharply turn his face to look at you.

He raises an eyebrow at you which probably means that I was traveling on thin ice. You have his attention alright, the question is what do you plan to do with it? You pull away from his chin and grab his wrists to pin against the back cushions of the couch.

You press your lips to his and gasp when he nips at your bottom lip harshly. He yanks himself out of your grip and pushes your back into the sofa. "You are such a brat, you know that?" He scolds as he wraps his fingers around your throat and uses his other hand to cup your pussy.

"How else was I suppose to get your attention?" You ask, whimpering as he rolls your clit between his index finger and his thumb. "By being a good girl. Now I'm going to have to punish you," he says, grabbing his tie from the table.

He ties your wrists together and places them above your head. He slowly trails his hands from your arms to your chest and cups your breasts before burying his face in them. Humming with satisfaction, he licks up the valley of your breasts, making your entire pussy throb against his hand.

"Do you like that sweetheart?" You moan in response and he bunches your dress at your waist before pull it over your head and out of the way. He unclips your bra and tears it in two since he couldn't take it off regularly with your hands tied.

He takes one of your nipples into his mouth and rubs the other with the pad of his thumb all with sliding his free hand into your panties. He slides two fingers into your slick and curls them hard and slow. You arch your back off of the couch and tried to roll your hips and match the rhythm of his fingers

He stops his movements and you fall back on the couch so he could resume his movements. "Damn it, I'm sorry." You whine but he ignores you and continues to pump his fingers at the painfully slow pace. Your orgasm was slowly acending your belly, but you had to lay back and ignore your want for friction because otherwise, he would stop.

You were on the verge of tears once your first orgamn finally came. "I'm s.. I'm sorry, Hanseok. Please don't," you trail off when he pulls away from your nipple with a satisfying pop. He kisses down your stomach and pulls your underwear down as your legs and leaves kisses on the freshly exposed skin.

He tosses your underwear across the room and holds your swole thighs in his hands. He rolls onto his back and brings your off of the couch all in one motions. You land by straddling his chest and he lifts you up slightly so he could slide himself right underneath your bare pussy.

He draws figure eights with his tongue and you body folds forwards. You rest your joined hands on the arm cushion of the couch. He spreads your legs even further so you are literally sitting on his face. When you try to get up, he digs his nails into your hips, making you cry out.

He flicks his tongue side to side across your clit before dipping inside and dragging it across the top wall. Your stomach grows sore from tensing it for so long. He repeats his motions and your knot grows in your stomach. You find yourself rolling your hips against his mouth and gasps when his tongue finds another gspot deep inside you.

Sinks a finger in and curls that spot over and over again until you came apart in his mouth. Humming in satisfaction, he kept the same pace until you were at the brink of your next orgasm.

Loud knocks on the door makes you yell out in surprise. "Jang Hanseok, this is the police." A man booms from the other side of the door. You climb off of him and stand on wobbly legs.

"What's happening?" You ask with your heart racing. "Please tell me you're not a murderer or something," "Relax, I'll be back by morning. Don't go anywhere." He says, wiping his face with a paper towel. "Wh-" "Don't go anywhere," he repeats and you collapse back on the couch.

He opens the door and converses with the police officers. You covered yourself from the prying eyes of the police officers. He runs upstairs to grab a shirt and shoes before leaving with the police. There you are, sitting on the couch, naked with your wrists tied together, feeling completely humiliated.

Using your teeth, you loosen the tie from your wrists and stare down at your torn up clothes. Your legs trembled as you stand once again from the couch and walk up the stairs to his room. You open his drawers and took out a black shirt and grey sweatpants.

You walk back downstairs and grab your purse before strapping on your heels and walking out the door. If he knows what's good for him, he'll stay the hell away for you.

**

"Absolutely not," "Why would you let one bad experience steer you away. He's a platinum client." "I could care less, he humiliated me." "A boo hoo, a man made me feel like shit so I'm not going to see him again. Please tell me you're not one of those hate all men snobs." Your madame snaps.

Your mouth hangs open with disbelief as heat creeps up the back of your neck. Clenching your jaw, you stand from the chair and anger explodes in your chest. You grab the coffee from her desk and toss the liquid in her face.

She shrieks as she wipes the coffee from her eyes. "In case you're having trouble putting two and two together. I quit, you arrogant, incompetent, man-pleasing pig." You spit. Reaching into your purse, you grab $100k as a termination fee the madame mentioned at the start of your contract and slam it on her desk.

You advance to the door with a wide grin tugging at your lips. For once you finally felt free. Walking to your car, your blood runs cold in your veins when you see Jang Hanseok leaning on your driver's side door.

He could be a criminal. What if you were a witness to something and he needed to get rid of you? You think to yourself. "Now I thought I told you to stay in the loft," "The last I checked, I have a mind and free will of my own." You snap.

"You're angry at me, why?" "If you really have to ask that question, I'm not going to bother explaining it to you. Please move out the way." "Not until we talk," "You're treading on thin ice, Hanseok." He kicks off from where he was leaning and advanced towards you with his hands stuff in his pockets.

"Say it again," "Say what?" "My name. I like how you say it." He tried to reach out and touch your cheek but you slap his hand away. "Wow, I really pissed you off, didn't I?"

"You left me naked and humiliated for those losers to look at. What make you think that's okay? Sex workers are humans too, Hanseok."

"Of course I know that. I just didn't.. I thought that they were proud of their bodies and wanted to show them off. I w-" "Not all of us are the same. Some have more dignity and self respect than to be treated like garbage." You snap. "I didn't know, okay. You.. you were my first one."

You spend a few moments looking at him. You're having a difficult time figuring out if he was geniune or not. "I quit, so if you're still experimenting. You're going to have to find another woman." You state, trying to step around him but he stands in your way again.

"Hanseok," you warn. "I don't want another woman. I want you." He leaned in to touch you again and this time you let him. He lifts your chin up gently with the crook of his finger. His touch the complete opposite of a couple days ago.

"Well that's too bad. If you look hard enough, you'll find a girl that'll do exact what you say. That doesn't have a... what was the word you used? A smart mouth." "I'll buy you anything you want." "Really, bribing? You can't buy your way out of this one, Hanseok."

"Just spend the day with me. The entire day, and I'll prove it to you." He cups your cheeks and maintains eye contact with you. "Prove what?" "That I'm worth it,"

**

Jang Hanseok examines the map of the mall with a perplexed look on his face. You're watching him with a similar expression. He's been.. different since the time you first met. He's more relaxed and serene.

You first went to a hot pot and competed to see who could the spiciest food. You won, naturally, but the entire time he would crack jokes and compliment you.

He really did make you feel special, but of course there was a small voice tucked in the back of your head saying that he could have bad intentions.

So you play along and listen to you gut on this one. "I found it!" He says excitedly. "Found what?" "Jump on my back," he says before crouching down in front of you. "You sure you want the carry me the whole time?"

"If my face can handle you, what makes you think my back can't?" He states and blush creeps onto you cheeks. Rubbing the back of you neck, you bite your lips nervously. "Come on, princess." He encourages and you finally climb onto his back.

You wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. "Why did you have to call me out like that? Someone could have heard you," you ask embarrassingly. "What? There's nothing to be ashamed of, you taste amazing by the way."

"Hanseok!" You scold, slapping his shoulder roughly. "Ouch, you have a mean swing." "There's plenty more where that came from."

After you left the mall, you had bags fulls of stuffed plushies, sweatshirts, sweatpants, crop tops and shoes. You told that you didn't need any of those things and he asked how many comfortable clothes you had.

When you didn't answer fast enough, he started putting every other thing in the cart. You were in the process of stuffing the bags into the trunk when he holds you from behind and pulls your back against his chest. You yell out in surprise before smacking his hand but he doesn't falter.

He buries his face into your neck and your eyes naturally close in response to his warmth. You lost count how long it's been since you've been held by someone. You unconsciously trail your fingers along the back of his neck and he sighs deeply.

"Tell me that this doesn't feel good. You can't, can you?" He mumbles into your neck. He loosens his arms around you and turns you around to kiss your forehead. What is he trying to prove? Holding the back your neck, he rests his forehead against yours.

"Let's start over,"

[stardusthhj]

We fell in love where the sun never rose - 01

TW: mention of death, weapons, bruises. Reader’s discretion advised.

Genre: mafia au. Gang au. Revenge au.

WC: 2,3k

Wrath is a feeling that could push anyone to extents they didn't think they could go to. And wrath is what pushed you in front of the black door, adorned by mildew and brownish cracks. You half expected a prestigious mansion. But after a second thought it was all the more logical that underground businesses were hiding- taking place underground. You softly chuckled at your own stupidity. The man next to you stretched his hand towards the door - or what was left of it- motioning you to push it open. You looked at him as his black hair fell to his eyes. His locks were thick and long, his hairstyle very trendy -just like the rest of him actually. He had the kind of face that would let anyone struck in awe. It would have affected you as well, hadn’t you be blinded long ago by everything you now longed for. By the sheer reason for which you stood before the door next to Hyunjin. His playful smirk wouldn't leave his lips. You observed him for a long time before and never had you seen his lips falling down. Whatever this smile was hiding it was probably more pain than a human could take.

You focused your attention back on the door, pushing it open. The light was flickering inside, as a long dark corridor took pride of place. You side-eyed Hyunjin, waiting for his signal. He walked in first, walking straight. As you crossed the seemingly never-ending corridor, you couldn't help your eyes from wandering to the countless doors on each side of the corridor. The air was heavy, or maybe was it your steps which finally came to a halt when Hyunjin stopped in front of a giantic door. It was none like the others, adourned in brown and gold. The door was beautifully decorated, like in the many novels you read about arabian architecture, with all the arabesque and gems. But something, right in the center of the door, took pride of place. The head of a lion, which paws were clunched. Its mouth hang open showing countless teeth, through which a red gem could be seen. Whoever carved this majestic animal in the door was insanely talented. "Are you going to stare at the door for more time? Because last time I checked you came all this way to become part of the gang." The sickening sweet voice drew you out of your thoughts. You shook your head ever so slightly, finally looking at him, waiting for the moment he’d push the door. Surprisingly he bent forward until his breath caressed your right cheek in a way that would make anyone blush. "I am not going to do it for you, dear. Push the door or run away, but be quick." You could hear his smile growing at the end of his sentence, voice dripping with honey. You exhaled, trying to get back your composure. You sighed one more time - maybe you were standing before Death. But you decided to keep Her close the day you decided to get your Revenge. You worked too hard for cowarding away now. And at that, the door flew open, letting the inside of the room be seen. Two luxurious brown couch were face to face, a small glass table in the middle. Under it was a white rug, hiding for some centimeters the marble floor. To your left could be seen a vase adorned by pristine drawings. Beyond the apparent living room, an open kitchen could be seen. It was all white, from the tiles on the wall to the furniture, next to which was a door. A black one. Very simplist given the room it was in. On the right side of the giant room a staircase could be seen. As pristine as the other items in the room. Not so idiot, after all, you thought. Hyunjin put his hand on your right shoulder, envelopping you, though his arm didn't touch your left shoulder. "Someone's eyes are constantly astray, it seems. The person you're looking for is that way." He said, his demeanor never-changing. He led you to the black door, the one behind which your future would be sealed. You knew the second your eyes wandered on it, that beyound it took place the most macabre ambiance. You understood by now, that whatever doors you crossed were the doors to your future, and that Hyunjin would let you open them yourself. He didn't want to seal your future, you were foolish enough to do so yourself. And so did you. You opened the black entrance, standing in the threshold of what seemed a normal study. You scanned the room, eyes narrowing. Book shelves were on each side of the walls. In front of the door was a brown desk on which messy papers were scattered. Behind the study was a window, letting enter little to no amount of light. Seated behind the desk was the black haired man with which you would probably trade your life for your goal. He eyed you intensely before motioning you to sit on the chair in front of his desk. You slowly walked, not even paying attention to Hyunjin leaving the room behind you. You sat, now seeing the man from very close. The first thing you noticed was his eyes. They were glassy. Not in the sense of looking teary, no. Glassy like glass. Thick, white, void. Almost as if a veil was drawn before his pupils. He seemed so cold, so cruel. "So?" he said, his voice not as rough as you expected it to be. You found yourself wordless. How? You prepared for this moment for at least six months. You knew what you had to

say, yet you couldn't bring yourself to say these words now. Were they too cruel? But to whom exactly? "I have a goal. I came here to accomplish it." you managed to say , surprised at your voice which didn't betray any of your feelings. You mentally gave yourself a head pat. "Revenge, am I wrong?" You looked up to him, astonished. Your reaction amused him, and he chuckled softly. "Do you think you are the only person that ever crossed my door asking for revenge? Let me tell you something; every Stray Kids member first joined to get revenge. Even the leader himself." He smirked in an arrogant way. "If you want your revenge, prove me your worth. Let me allow it to you."

"I do not intend on telling you the story of my life." you said, harsher than you intended.

"Cold eyes, cold words, cold demeanor. I never expected you to narrate me your little story. I don't really care about it. I only need you to prove me with actions. You know what we say? Actions speak louder than words." He said, adding a wink at his last word. "But before you do anything, you'll receive a little training. Just so that you don't die." He leaned over, both elbows on the table and his head supporting his head. He starred at you for a little before shouting "Rhino". A boy with brown hair immediately appeared. The place was huge, how did he hear him and came so fast? You wondered. Was he ready all this time being? You eyed the man as he stood before you. His eyes were very pretty, and unlike the two other men, alive. His pupils were black, feathered with long eyelashes. His nose was long and sharp, and his upper lip was a bit bigger than his lower. He looked pretty, just like the two other men you met. His gaze fell on you and you found it hard to breathe. His eyes were surely alive, but they sent daggers through your whole being. He made it clear in one gaze that he was less than happy with your prensence.

"There's no going back, now" Said the man with glassy eyes.

The first steps you took were hesitant. You felt like being entirely swallowed up in the giant training room. Weapons were organized on shelves; guns, knives, and some wood-looking swords. You wondered why swords were present in the first place. On the ground were discarded thick rugs which you remembered using in high school. You didn’t notice your mouth was so wide open until the brown haired man next to you mentioned it. You looked at your feet, embarrassed. Now is not the time to be embarrassed! You thought. The man -Rhino, if you remembered it well- stepped first. He climbed up the rugs, heading towards the wooden swords.

“We’ll start with this. It’s convenient; you’ll learn how to many something else than a gun. Plus you won’t hurt yourself.” The first words he spoke to you were void of any feelings, just like his eyes were. But it didn’t matter; you weren’t here for acquaintances but to get to your goal. You stepped on the rugs as well, taking one of the wooden weapon he lent you. It was surprisingly heavier than it seemed. And so was his gaze. He was judging you, evaluating you through your very movements. It made you nervous to the point you wondered if he could read in your breath. “Revenge” he said, “did a relative got murdered by a gang?” You stiffened. How could someone be so insensitive? You chose to hold his gaze, frowning. Well, if he can read you so well, he should be able to read your anger. “It has nothing to do with you. You are supposed to train me, not talk to me.” You spat, venom dripping from your words. If he didn’t mind hurting others, he might as well not mind being hurt himself.

The right part of his upper lip lifted in what you supposed would be the closer of a smile you’ll ever see on him. “Sure. Be it. But then don’t expect me to tell you your wrongdoings. Find out by yourself.” His tone had nothing to do with the so called smile. He was mad. Mad at you. “So big boy likes to hurt others but can’t stand a simple remark? Is the poor boy hurt?” You feigned concern as you leaned closer to his heart, pretending to listen to his heartbeats. In a second, your back encountered the rug in a way that would sure bruise you. When you opened your eyes, a growl escaping your lips, he was right on top of you, his eyebrows closer than possible. His face was mere centimeters away, his breath fanning your own. Now that he was so close, you could see his eyes well. They weren’t black, they were dark brown, with some yellow and red tint here and there. “You surely like to talk back. In a real fight, you’d already be dead. Talk less, act more.” He said before standing up, straightening his white shirt in the process. You were speechless. All this time you thought you were at least good at fighting. You stood up yourself, your back hurting more than it should have. Damn it, you mentally cursed.

Rhino looked at you over his shoulder “get up, we have a long way to go.”

Weeks passed and the least you could say was that you significantly improved. You also noticed a slight change in Rhino’s demeanor. He would from times to times bring water bottles, and sometimes would even patch the handle of the sword you were used to many. You figured out it was his way of caring. Through very small things. And it was fine by you. Even if the only words you would exchange with him were about work. He even taught you a handful of laws, such as always protecting the leader, not doing anything that would put the whole gang in danger, sacrificing yourself for the well-being of the gang… all these rules you couldn’t care less about. For you would not give up on your life and your goal for a bunch of men you did not even know. It had been weeks, yet the only persons you ever encountered where Hyunjin and Rhino. You wondered where the others were. But it didn’t matter, you had to get ready to the day of the test. The rest was a mere concern for you.

Resting on the small bed of the room you were assigned to, you mentally replayed your last training session with Rhino. The way he held his gun, the way he effortlessly never missed any target. You wanted to be as good as him. No. You wanted to be better. A knock on your door drew you out of your thoughts. You opened it, revealing the brown-haired man you were so accustomed to. “Chan told me to inform you; tomorrow you are going on a mission with us. It’s as simple as handling a drug deal. There’s really not much to do, but have this.” He put in your hands a bulletproof vest. “Am I allowed to…” “As long as he doesn’t find out it’s fine. Wear it under your clothes. Wouldn’t it be a shame if you died before you’d even join?” He cut you off. You frowned. Why would Chan ask you to come help in a mission when you didn’t have enough training? Why would Rhino give you a bulletproof vest? It just didn’t make sense. You politely thanked him, sending him away. You slumped back on your bed, eyes fixed on the white ceiling. They really thought you were dumb. Soon enough, you were going to pass the test you prepared hard for. The exam they disguised as a mission. You thought about it for a long time. It was most likely they would test you on your loyalty, ability to apply the rules Rhino taught you and on the way you can use weapons. You clenched you fists, sitting on the edge of the bed. Whatever it would cost, you were going to pass the test. Not because you wanted to be part of Stray Kids, but because you needed to. It was your only way to get to your revenge. And your revenge was your it. It came before anyone’s life. Including your own.

[shelby-love]

ELIJAH MIKAELSON

Past Catching Up.

Requested: yes (by anonymous)

Prompts: none

Warning(s): none

Word count: 1.2K

Author's note: It’s always a pleasure to write about my Mikaelson men! Thank you for your lovely request. Happy reading! <3

~

The French Quarter was brimming with people, the streets buzzing all around. There were tourists in every nook and cranny of the city. Many sounds danced in the air, from wheeling bicycles to chattering. Jardin Gris Voodoo Shop was having a busy day, which was proved by the long amount of time you had spent inside.

These people didn't know in what kind of city they had stumbled in, but they didn't seem to mind.

Your hold on the small bag filled with herbs you had bought for Freya tightened impulsively as a little kid passed by you in a blur of a moment, ducking just in time not to trample you over with his bike. You sighed, glancing over your shoulder after him. There really was no point in lecturing the kid.

Your gaze fell in the direction of your walk again, being free of obstacles for what looked like 3 seconds. You felt yourself stumble against something hard, and instinctively you held onto the mystery for support. It takes you a moment to compose yourself and figure out the right excuse.

"Are you okay?" the man asks smoothly, still holding your shoulders in a vise grip.

You stepped out of that very same hold and looked up. He saw the shock register on your face before you could even attempt to hide it. Just like a year ago, a small smile played on his lips. Always in a way that made someone think he knows something they don't.

He reminded you of Klaus now that you thought of it. He was much like Kol too, yet very…no.

Yet entirely different from the sophisticated man you loved. Elijah Mikaelson was one of a kind after all.

"What are doing here Levi?" You asked him quickly. Your eyes fell on the surrounding vampires, those sent by Elijah to keep an eye out on you. There was not a doubt in your mind that one of them had already left to fetch him.

Even though Levi crushed your whole being when he broke up with you, erasing your feelings for him forever – a part of you refused to see the man with whom you shared many memories suffer great pain at the hands of Elijah.

You are a different woman now. An entirely different one; the last of your human beliefs had disappeared months ago when you were introduced to the supernatural world.

"Came to see you, of course," he drawled, lips twitching into a magnified smirk.

"Well, you wasted your time," you told him with a frown. "I want nothing to do with you."

Attempting to walk around his muscled body was of no avail as his hand grasped your wrist in which you were holding the herbs.

Levi took noticed and smiled, "You were never into gardening. What changed?"

You glared at him, wanting now more than ever to tell him you were delivering the herbs to the oldest witch on the planet. "They're not mine."

"Do you want to go get a drink? We should catch up," he proposed and you hated the way his smile grew by a mile. "There's a jazz bar here. St. James Infirmary am I right? Do you know where it is?"

"I've been living here for the last year Levi," You growled. "Of course, I know where it is."

And you did wish to take him there more than anything. You wanted to take him to the long-standing establishment of New Orleans, that has served as neutral territory between the supernatural factions of the city for decades. Fixing someone a drink using Levi should be easy as no vampire dared to touch you due to being Elijah's love.

"Great!" Levi said, his white teeth gracing you under the sun. "Then let's go."

"I'm not going anywhere with you!"

How he managed to act like nothing bad ever happened between you two was puzzling, to say the least. While you had your wounds reopened with his sudden appearance, he seemed everything but wounded.

"Is there a problem here?"

You were never gladder to see Elijah's Armani suit as you were right then at that moment. You nodded your head eagerly and attempted to free your wrist. By now you had caught the attention of several locals and tourists in passing.

"He won't leave me alone." You gritted out, pulling your wrist again. "Levi let me go!"

It took a great amount of self-control for Elijah to keep his vampirism at bay. The look in your face was enough to pull at his heart that wanted nothing more than to protect you and have you in his arms.

"Can I suggest you listen to her and take a step back?" He asked him calmly, the tone of his voice stoic.

"Why should I do that? Y/N and I go way back, right love?"

Elijah's eyes visibly darkened, the veins of his vampire part threatening to surface. The younger man didn't know what he was dealing with, and as much as it pleased you to be in possession of that particular fact, you didn't want to your garbage-like ex of a boyfriend to be the reason behind Elijah's control loss of self-control.

Levi let you go, raising his hands in mock-surrender. Eventually he did stagger away, acting in a way that made it seem like the rejection didn't hurt or that the cold stare didn't put him into submission.

Elijah pulled you to him, grasping the side of your face with his hand while inspecting your wrist with the other.

Glad that he was there to intimidate your ex-boyfriend, you leaned in to give him a peck on the lips as a thank-you.

Although your brows came together very soon.

It's not over yet.

"Stay there," You pointed to Elijah before turning around. The Original vampire didn't attempt to stop you as the noble man in him had full trust in you like always. It was one of the many things you adored about him.

"I knew you were-"

You placed your hand lightly on Levi's shoulder, halting him in his steps and turning him around to face you – beaming.

Slap!

When it came to physically and verbally attacking someone, in your case, background always mattered.

Did they deserve it? What was it in for you?

Yes, and everything.

It sure felt good when your hand met his cheek. No. It felt more than good.

Amazingly satisfying aren't even the right words.

"Leave me the hell alone." You said in his face. "Unless you want my boyfriend to break your body like a twig."

Levi didn't have a clue how serious that threat was.

With a determined look you stalked back to Elijah. "Do you want me to wipe his memory?"

You eventually came to a decision and nodded. "Wipe it clean."

***

"Brother dearest!" Klaus' voice boomed when you and Elijah crossed the entry of the Mikaelson home, hand in hand. "I got a whiff of your encounter with Y/N's past lover. I've got to admit… You handled yourself very well back there."

"Why thank you, Niklaus." Elijah said monotonely.

"How melodramatic." Klaus mused. "Am I right?"

"Yes," You agreed. "I slapped him."

Klaus grinned, "So I've heard."

Ignoring Klaus became your expertise. Shrinking his voice into the background seemed way too easy as you leaned toward Elijah.

He placed his hands on your hips, your breathing mingling together.

"I've got to find Freya."

"She's in the drawing room." He whispered, having picked up where his sister was with his hearing.

Understanding dawned his eyes, "We can't change our past, so we live together in the present, and we fight the past off together when it comes knocking at our doors."

"Thank you for…you know. Not freaking out."

"Were you always this wise?"

"No," He replied with a chuckle. "That's the millennium rubbing off me."

~

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MASTERLIST

[shepard-ram]

Let's go third ask of the day honestly plot bunnies are running rampant in my head today so let's do a second part to the Mulan ask.

Technoblade was starting to lose his patience how hard could it be to find the soldier that had won his affection? It turned out to be very hard since the nation in questions record keeping was appalling even months later he was no closer to finding them. If this continued the voices would drive him mad before he had even figured out what part of the army your armour even belonged to begin narrowing down his search which ya no he kind of had to do he couldn't just visit every single person on the conscription lists considering A he didn't actually see your face due to the standard issue helmet you had on and B you never spoke so he could even go off of Reginal accents. Seeing his eldests growing rage over this (and to be far he was starting to lose it as well since it's rather hard to fight wars without your best general or plan a wedding with one party missing) asked Wilbur to assist. Wilbur did arrive within the month but kept getting into arguments with his elder twin about why did they have to spend their time on this singular soldier even if they did injure Techno it's only when Techno quietly confesses the extent of his injuries and the fact that his piglin instincts had decided that you were the one to be his that Wilbur throw's his full weight behind solving the issue of finding this soldier (People often forget that they are twins by blood and that despite how human he looked and acted compared to his twin he had just as much piglin blood in him, he knew how much Techno's instincts declaring you as his mate really ment) and within a few weeks he had made more progress than Techno and the captive government did in the months that had being trying by using both the information on what part of the army the armour was from and cross-referencing that with information he had managed to get from Techno about the type sword that they used he had finally narrow down the search area enough so that Techno could find them in person. Wilbur had only just finished telling his brother this when he saw Techno rush of to the stable to grab both his horse Carl and his personal squad of soldiers on his quest to find you.

You were a hairs breath from a complete meltdown the Arctic Empire's bloodthirsty crown prince was going around the region fighting every soldier conscripted in the nations army to the death apparently he was looking for revenge against a soldier that injured him, who ever that was and there were only a few villages until he reached yours. You couldn't just grab your brother plus your friend and run not only was your brother to ill to make the journey but someone else had tried that and not only had the prince hunted down the runway soldier and kill him but he had wiped out the village as an example so no you couldn't run. A thought did enter you head you had beaten that general maybe you could pull off the same trick again no if you killed the prince they would just wipe your village off of the map in retaliation. As the days until the prince's arrival drew near you saw others saying goodbye to their loved ones and you saw your friend come to terms with their impending death you wanted to scream in rage at this prince's cruelty at his callousness towards a defeated people. You couldn't find your sword when the day came, your brother hobbled out of your house leaning heavily on his cane and your friend conversed with him while you searched for a sword to use in place of your own. Now however you could hear the names being read out, a pause, a clash, a scream and then repeat grabbing a training sword (better than nothing you supposed) after all your name would be soon. Stepping outside just as someone was cut down ( the bakers husband your mind supplied as you saw his corpse get dragged away by a soldier he had two small children you remembered you hoped that they hadn't witnessed their fathers death) sweat covered your palms as they worked their way down the list drawing ever closer to you name until they called your brother's name instead.

Why did they say your brother's name you were the one who went did they never update the conscription after you went in his place? You had to correct this,you had to stop them before they killed you brother due to a mistake you stepped forward to voice this only for a hand to quickly pull you back and cover your mouth preventing you from stopping your brother as he hobbled through the crowd with your sword in hand how,how long had he had that? You could hardly hear you friends apologies about how they and your brother refused to let you throw your life away when you had so much life left to live compared to them over your heartbeat echoing in your ears. Though when the prince loudly declared he would grant your brother a swift and painless death ( as if that was any comfort to those who loved him, to you) you thanked every god you could think of that your friend was physically weaker than you as you elbowed them in the gut and ripping your self free, charging through the crowd and raising your training sword to meet the blade about to crash down in your brother's head finally laying eyes on the prince only for you to recognise the general you left for dead instead.

Technoblade recognised the eyes currently meeting his with rage melting into fear once you recognised him in turn. He had finally found you after all this time, his eyes traveling over you face and body burning every detail into his mind. However one thought dominated his mind. Why did you charge out to face him now he had slew many unworthy opponents today? Why did this sickly mans imminent death cause you to stand and fight? What was he to you? It's only when your clash unfortunately ended him stumbling back as (for the first time he heard you voice after this it would never leave his head) you yelled at the man to run you called him brother, oh he couldn't kill him then, your loyalty to protecting those dear to you added to the list in his head of things that made you more than worthy as far as the voices and his instincts were concerned but also it was something he could now exploit. So he gave you an offer as you protectively stood in front of your brother come with him and nobody else has to die it was such a generous offer in his opinion after all if you refused he would have every villager killed and take you by force . He could see someone who had just pushed their way to the front of the crowd begging you not to ( the soldier that you had stopped him from cutting down when you first met the voices told him) but you looked at him trembling ( in fear or rage he couldn't tell) and told him that you accepted his offer. With barely contained joy he strode up to you as you discarded your weapon, and picked you up in a bridal carry as he went over to Carl and lifted you on to him before mounting up himself before riding out of the village his men falling into line behind him. That night as he held your sleeping for close in your shared tent (as if he would allow you to leave his sight now that he had finally found you) after sharing a meal with you ( though he had made sure to add a sleeping potion to your meal to help you sleep after such an eventful day) he just held you in his arms nuzzling the top of your head as he took in your scent burning it into his mind in a pure state of bliss as he finally had you and he could scarcely wait until you both returned to the capital to where his father had every ready for your wedding.

Ender-anon

This was not supposed to be this long my brain just took it and ran away with it before I could stop it.

He recognized you instantly, how could he not? Everything you do is so distinct, so perfect. You're so kind and bold and amazing- and now you're his, forever.

[giorno-plays-piano]

The Spider's Bride Part 5

Pairing: spider!Bucky x Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, forced marriage, smut, breeding.

Words: 1835.

Summary: Whoever your stepmother sold you to, he wasn’t as honorable as she claimed.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

_____________

That night was the new beginning. Despite Bucky refusing to do anything except kissing you, you spent several hours talking and getting to know each other like lovers would, finally. You ceased to be afraid of him, the only one who had truly cared about you and ready to smother you with love and constant attention. In one week you tried watching Bucky regaining his true form, and, though it wasn't easy, you didn't feel repulsed or frightened to death. He was just different. Slowly, you came to terms with it.

The more open-minded you became, the easier it was to accept the reality you lived in now. You were lucky to have Bucky's sisters always encouraging you to get to know the world around you better: you could talk to them about things you were too embarrassed to ask your betrothed, and they had never even once refused you. At one point you started going out to the town, Bucky always close to you to protect you from anything you deemed scary. Though you were an outsider, someone who didn't even belong to the same kind as them, you were treated with respect and provided with support you needed so much. You even made a few friends, two female arachnids and a couple of elderly dark elves.

Then the day of the wedding had come. By this time you got accustomed to Bucky's spider form so much that being around many of his relatives - dear Lord, since he lived alone you could never guess he had such a big family - wasn't frightening at all. More than that, you really enjoyed being carried by your beloved on his spider-like body because the fancy wedding dress heavily embroidered with pearls and silver threads made it nearly impossible to move for you. Funny, just months ago you couldn't force yourself to look at those eight long legs with claws on the ends.

"Bucky, on your right!" Before the vicious lamia attacked the two of you, you had casted a barrier, protecting Bucky from a strong snake tail ready to strike.

Snapping out of his thoughts, your husband let out a strong silver rope that wrapped itself around creature's tail while Bucky charmed the monster, making it fall to the ground with a loud thud. You exhaled loudly above his ear, rubbing his chest and clinging closer to him.

"Dear, it's not the time to space out just yet." You said, dropping a kiss to the top of his head. "I don't want the kids to worry about their careless dad getting injured."

His cheeks grew warm at the mention of your kids, beautiful boy and girl you had given him a few years ago. There was nothing else that could bring Bucky more joy than watching you and them playing in the evening, his house filled with cheerful laugh and loud voices. He had never known he could ever give someone as much love as he gave his family, but Bucky didn't know someone could love him so strongly in return either. He had never felt happier in his entire life.

He adored graceful forms you had granted your children, their bodies looking even more human than his sisters', but when he talked about that, you always interrupted him saying that he doesn't look less beautiful to you just because he has more hair and his body is darker than theirs. It was unfair, you said and kept kissing him until he melted from your touch. One day you had to give him a big lecture upon judging the others based on their looks. Bucky couldn't possibly teach his own children they were better than others purely because they looked more crab-like rather than spider-like!

He smiled at you, eyeing him with concern. You were the best mother to their kids he could ever wish for.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart." He kissed the tip of your nose, making you giggle.

"Are you worrying about the children again?" You asked gently, knowing they were perfectly alright with Arabella and Miria. "Daddy?"

Oh, you loved watching him getting as red as tomato. What a little minx! You knew perfectly he got aroused when you called him that.

"Let's get out of here." He left a glowing charmed mark on the ground, showing where the lamia laid and surrounding it with a barrier. "I think we've done enough."

"If you refer to patrolling the forest, then yes." You smirked, and he felt warmth spreading in his chest as he remembered how eager you had been when he made love to you in whatever form. "You know, if not those damn creatures, I'd prefer riding on your back naked. It feels so good when I touch your lower body with my bare skin."

"Dear, I will fuck you against the tree right here if you don't stop." He growled, getting frustrated he couldn't touch you properly while you gigled in his long dark hair.

Bucky hurried further into the woods to the territory you two had already checked and cleared from any Hydra's monsters. Oh Lord, he desperately wanted to see you naked with your breasts and hips fully on display in front of him, calling him daddy when he fingered you, listening to your mewls and moans. It didn't help that you were already massaging his lower body, exactly the mound that covered his painfully hard cock.

"It's not even the mating season yet, but you're so eager." You laughed a little, and Bucky bit his lips.

"Look who's talking. I can feel you growing hot down there, little one."

You squeezed your thighs around his torso and started murming something that made him want to throw you to the ground and get on top of you immediately. Slowly stripping him of his leather jacket, you took off your own once your husband stopped, finding the right spot, and then you quickly slip off your pants.

"Come here, naughty girl." Bucky growled, helping you to come down and then lifting you up with his strong hands so you could lean to him. "You're too eager today. What happened?"

"I wanna mate, Gods, I wanna mate with you so bad." Your breath grew hotter as you felt his mound opening and his long, already leaking with precum cock touching your thigh. "Please. Today... isn't my safe day."

"Shit." He moaned, his instincts getting the better of him in an instant when you said you were ovulating. Damn it, he couldn't resist sliding inside your wet pussy, bottoming you out in one thrust. As you let out a hiss of pain and pleasure - he was damn big, and sometimes it wasn't easy to take him all - Bucky claimed your mouth with his, his grip on your body growing stronger. "You want me to knock you up again, honey? You want me to fill you with my seed? Because I fucking will."

You couldn't even answer him when Bucky rutted himself into you, drawing mewls and gasps from you as he fucked your relentlessly against the tree just as he promised, pressing the tip of his cock into your cervix. His mouth was on your neck, leaving little spots on your gentle skin, marking you his, claiming you just like the first time. Huh, you knew you needed to talk to him about having more kids when he wasn't aroused so much as your body was barely prepared for such intense session - he kept thrusting even after you cummed on top of his cock, screaming his name.

"Bucky, p-please, ah-"

"Little minx. You wanna grow heavy with my brood again, and you didn't tell me?" His dangerously low voice made your pussy throb around him, and you tried to find purchase in his shoulders, gripping them tighter. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Ahh, I'm s... s-sorry, daddy. I wanted t-to surprise you... ahh!" He inched you closer, holding your soft body against his, your lovely breasts pressing into Bucky's chest as he bottomed you out again, drawing a fucking scream from you.

Carefully sliding his hands down your body, he took you by the hips, and you crossed your legs behind his lower back, your toes curling. Your back arched of its own accord when you felt the coil starting to build up in your belly again, and you moaned louder, throwing your head back. The next second Bucky attached his lips to your neck, groaning at how tightly your walls were clenching him. The thought of you getting pregnant again made him burn with desire to fill you up to the brim.

"I'm gonna mate you till I'm sure I knocked you up." He whispered hotly in your ear, rolling his hips the way it made you see stars.

You were screaming his name as he picked up the pace, practucally pushing you into the tree, leaving a pair of scratches on your back, but you didn't care. The only one on your mind was the man who kissed and sucked and bit down on your skin, fucking you until you nearly passed out. As you squeezed him tighter, cumming again, you felt him finally stilling and releasing his hot sticky seed into your unprotected womb.

"I love you." He exhaled, his eyelashes trembling as he kissed you, grasping your ass as he filled you to the brim with his cum.

"I love you too." You muttered, touching his face with your lips. Mating with your lovely monster felt so fucking good.

You couldn't possibly imagine the depth of Bucky's gratitude for giving him a chance, for letting him love you, but he couldn't imagine how much you would grow to care about him either. Even after those years you two spent together, sometimes he was afraid you'd still flinch when he came to drop a kiss on your cheek or rub your back. However, the only thing you did was encouraging Bucky to continue, and then things often moved to your bedroom. The only reason why you didn't give him more children was because bearing an arachnid wasn't easy, and Bucky wanted to take care of your health, not destroy your gentle human body with constant pregnancies. But today... today you made him the happiest man in the world again.

Carefully lifting you up from his cock, Bucky took you in his arms like a bride, watching you breathing tiredly. He felt like he could explode from all the love gathered inside him.

"Oh, don't tell me I need to dress now." You pouted, and he chuckled, casting a spell - the very next second your body was fully dressed in your clothes again. Though you could feel his cum dripping out on your panties, it didn't bother you now. "You know, you have to teach me this thing if we will keep patrolling the forest."

Bucky got red when you winked at him and then laughed out loud, starting to walk back to the cave hidden deep into the woods.

THE END

______________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki    ​@helenaeisenhower  @villanellevi  @hurricanerin  ​@void-hoechlin  @abyssaint @navegandoaciegas  @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @ladyacrasia  @iheartsebastianstan  @what-is-your-wish  @princessofdarkwinter @mandiiblanche  @live—deliciously @heeeyitskay

[professorsnape394]

The Potions Master’s Apprentice

Chapter Four: The Three Broomsticks

A/N: This is the fourth part to my fanficiton ‘The Potions Master’s Apprentice (Severus Snape x OC)’. Chapters 1-16 can be found already uploaded on Wattpad under the same name. Feel free to leave requests in my inbox for anything Snape related you want me to write. Leave a comment below if you wish to be added to my tag list.

Pairing: Severus Snape x OC (Dumbledore’s Granddaughter)

Summary: A talented young witch is employed as an apprentice professor at Hogwarts, but who will she be working under? Severus Snape is not best pleased with his new responsibility of taking on an apprentice, however she is relentless to create a friendship between them. Will she be successful? Or might the friendship just go a little two far? With the eyes of her grandfather constantly watching over them, an attempt at a relationship might not be in the cards for Aria Dumbledore and Severus Snape.

Word Count: 1733

Warnings: n/a

Credits to Gif Creator

The following days transpired just as the day before had done; a lot of potion brewing and a little conversation. However, more notably Severus Snape was actually participating in the conversation for once. Aria could not yet say she had seen a pleasant side to the man, however he was acceptable to converse with at the very least. By the end of the third day he no longer pretended to busy himself with textbooks and he actually elected to help with the potion brewing for once. Being able to talk to the Professor and ask him any questions helped her a great deal in learning the correct procedures. She felt herself being more at ease around him, and soon enough they had developed their own way of working together, that she found quite enjoyable. Even Severus had become accustomed to the woman's presence in his classroom as she pranced around the cauldrons, laughing every now and then at his sarcastic comments he hadn't entirely meant to be humorous.

Aria had been lost in thought as she stirred the final potion to completion. "I was thinking." She said cautiously. "It's pretty hard finding things to occupy myself at nights, there isn't much to do here, except aimlessly wandering the halls. How do you feel about maybe taking a trip to Hogsmeade this weekend, have some dinner, maybe drinks? It would make a change from the elves cooking, although I admit they'd be pretty hard to beat."

"I appreciate the offer Miss Dumbledore. However you know how I feel about spending time with Mr. Hagrid, I doubt a change of setting would convince me, especially with the addition of alcohol." Severus spoke, his tone softer than it usually would at such a request.

"Hagrid wouldn't be there." She hastened to add. "He mentioned he has business out with the castle grounds. I just figured since the two of us would be here anyway, it wouldn't make any sense for us to sit alone."

"You may have forgotten, Miss Dumbledore, but I like being alone. I eat alone every night, and I do not wish to simply be your back up plan, now Hagrid has left you to do the same."

"I don't mean for you to be a back up plan Sev- Professor Snape. I just think it might do us both some good. After all haven't we been getting along better these past few days." Aria wanted to get to know the man more, she felt they had got off on the wrong foot and the way to fix this was spending more time together, and hopefully they would even become friends at the end of it all.

"You haven't been as disagreeable as I expected you would be, I will admit. This does not change my previous opinion." He stated.

"At least consider it." She pleaded.

With a sigh Snape flipped another page. "I'll consider it." He agreed, continuing reading his book, no longer interested in conversing with the young witch.

The next few days dragged in more than ever. Aria enjoyed keeping herself busy and was not used to having this much free time. The only thing keeping her sane was her passions for drawing and nature. She chose to combine the two and spend her days outside, sketching the beautiful landscape she found herself in. She preferred to opt for portraits, capturing the essence of humanity in her sketches, but trees were fine too. She shrugged.

Sunday morning eventually came around and Aria chose to tackle something she had been putting off ever since her arrival at Hogwarts. A small pile of letters had accumulated on her bedside table, ignoring each one as they came in. She immediately recognised the scrawled writing on the envelope and could not face opening them. Every second day she received a letter and it broke her heart knowing what lay within. Reading each one carefully, she knew she could not face writing the response the sender desperately awaited. Instead she scribbled a small, generic reply, making sure to include that she would be too busy to write often due to her crazy schedule. This of course was a lie as she had virtually nothing planned for the next couple of weeks until term begun. Aria did not want to face even reading any more letters as long as she remained at Hogwarts, and so she swore to herself she wouldn't no matter how hard she knew it would be.

A firm knock echoed through her quarters just as Aria sent her letter off with beautiful brunette barn owl. "Come in." She called curious as too who would be calling on her. Shocked to see Professor Snape striding into her private chambers, Aria couldn't help but question his presence there.

"I've had time to think about your offer." He stated blankly, visibly out of his comfort zone.

"And?" Aria pressed.

"And I suppose there would be no harm in joining you for one meal. After all, as you say, we both will be here alone, we may as well keep each other company."

"Fantastic!" His colleague gleamed, jumping up from her position on her couch. "Just give me some time to get ready and I'll meet you there? Say six oclock at the Three Broomsticks?"

"Six is fine with me. Don't be late." He warned, leaving the room just as quickly as he came.

*

Aria entered the Three Broomsticks at five forty-five, ensuring Snape had no reason to reprimand her once again for her tardiness. It stunned her to find the sallow skinned man already sitting at a booth, firewhiskey in hand, patiently waiting on her arrival. She couldn't help but smile to herself as she watched him tap out a rhythm on the side of his glass as he took yet another sip. She wondered if it was out of impatience or nervousness, either way she thought it slightly endearing to see.

Hearing the click of a familiar set of heels quickly approaching him, Severus Snape looked up from his glass, almost needing to hold back the urge to smile, but managed to keep his composure. He rose to his feet, holding out a hand to greet the fellow Professor, instantly cursing himself for such a foolish action. "Sit." He commanded, motioning to the seat across from his own. "I'll get you a drink."

"Oh no, there's really no need Professor." Aria insisted, shaking her head, causing her beach-like waves to brush over her exposed shoulders. "I'm afraid alcohol doesn't agree with me at the best of times." She admitted.

"Correct me if I am wrong, Miss Dumbledore, but as I recall it was you who suggested a meal and drinks. Or did I mishear you." Snape asked, feeling almost foolish, having already down two glasses of Firewhiskey.

"I did say that didn't I." The young Miss Dumbledore blushed. "I apologise, sometimes I just cannot stop myself when I speak, I often forget the consequences of drinking, which as it happens is the ultimate consequence of drinking." She chuckled.

The older man shot her a small look of disdain, not at all as amused as she had expected him to be. He let out a small grunt of dissatisfaction, and proceed to down the dregs of his drink.

It took a few more awkward moments of silence and Severus being slightly more irritable that Aria had wished for before the two finally settled in to a rhythm of conversation. Soon enough it came time to eat and Aria took it upon herself to call over the waitress. As he ordered Aria watched as Severus made no effort to look up at the woman serving him. It crossed her mind that maybe this was a deliberate attempt at ignoring her voluptuous breast and curvature of her hips. However, on the other hand she considered that maybe he truly was not interested as she thought back to their conversation a few days before.

"She's stunning." Aria couldn't help but observe. "You should go for it, chat her up, she might be into the dark, brooding, intellectual type."

"As I told you before, Miss Dumbledore, dating it not top priority for me. If you find her so attractive why don't you, as you say, 'chat her up'." Snape replied sarcastically, not expecting the woman to take him seriously.

"I might just." She said, finding her eyes following the waitress back to the kitchen for a moment or two. He couldn't help but feel a little jealous as the witch watched the woman walk away from their table, though he was not sure why.

"So tell me Professor Snape." The young Professor began. "What are the other Professor's at Hogwarts like? Who am I took look out for? Who's my competition." She grinned, wriggling her eyebrows menacingly.

"I'm not sure I know what you mean." He hummed in response.

"You know." She shrugged. "Who are you close with? Will I have to fight them for custody of you." She laughed, although the Professors expression did not change. "What I'm trying to say Severus is, I'm new here, besides yourself and Hagrid I know no one. I'd like to consider us friends, though you may have a different opinion. I was simply trying to express my nervousness at being the new girl. I was hoping you'd be able to help me settle in, introduce me to your other friends and colleagues that is." She sighed.

"You do not seem to understand my disposition, Miss Dumbledore, that which I feel I have made abundantly clear. I am not one to socialise. I am not one to make friends. I am here to teach and teach alone. I do what your grandfather asks of me and that is the extent of my relationship with the staff. They understand how I am, and respect that. I do not bother them and in return they do not bother me. You have been the first to struggle with this concept, Professor." He struggled to grant her the title.

"I didn't realise." Aria stuttered slightly, not understanding how she had not caught on. "I had simply thought you had a vendetta against me, due to my position here at Hogwarts. I didn't realise you shut yourself off from everyone. I apologise for any inconvenience I have caused you." The tone of her voice softening, becoming almost a whisper-like volume. She was embarrassed she had forced him out of his habits and brought him to the Three Broomsticks to clear the air. She realised now it had been a pointless act. This man had been stuck in his ways for over a decade and she would not change that a fortnight into knowing him.

"I am here, aren't I." Severus stated, trying not sound as harsh as he previously had. "Had I truly despised you I would not be wasting my time here with you. I have come to the realisation that if we are to work in such a close proximity to each other, it would be best if we maintained at least some level of civility with one another."

"I appreciate the sentiment, Professor." She replied shyly, remaining silent. Immediately Severus regretted opening his mouth. He didn't entirely hate her company and in fact he had found himself starting to enjoy the evening. It took him a minute or two to gain the confidence to speak the words aloud, but he figured the pay off was worth the sacrifice of a small amount of pride.

"Will you stop fretting woman." He demanded. "I was just beginning to find your constant rambling tolerable. If I wished to spend the evening in silence, I wouldn't have made the effort to accept your invitation to come here tonight. You have managed to entice me thus far, do not spoil what may be your one chance at a friendship with me."

"A friendship?" This piqued her interest.

"You know what I mean. A working relationship. A tolerance. A chance for me to accept your position as my apprentice." Snape corrected himself, fumbling over his words.

"Mmmm." She smirked, taking a small sip of butterbeer. "I'll just pretend a friendship is off the cards for us then, Professor. Although I don't recall you mentioning trips to Hogsmeade as an exception to your reclusive personality." She raised an eyebrow suggestively.

Despite his annoyance at her persuasive abilities, and daring comments, he was glad he had convinced her back to her previously inquisitive self.

Both choosing to ignore any reservations they might have about their 'non-friendship' the two spoke for hours with ease. With each empty glass of fire whiskey Severus Snape found himself relaxing more into the conversation, his reputation becoming a distant memory. It was the first he had allowed himself to truly relax in possibly the whole of his life.

It seemed in one evening Severus had gotten to know all there was to know about Aria's life, although strangely she mentioned nothing regarding her family and Snape chose not to pursue the subject. He loved listening to her talk, she was a rambler, rarely needing any interjection from him except the odd mumble here and there and that's the way he liked it. He was a listener, he loved taking in new information no matter the subject. Most importantly it meant he did not have to share anything about himself, unless the woman specifically asked, and even in those rare occasions, she knew better than to pressure him when he chose not to provide an answer.

Aria told him of the schooling she received in Ilvermorny, her school in America. She told him of her job working in a local alchemists after she left school. She confided in him of her dream to become a professor, or an auror even, really she was just desperate to make a difference in someone's life and her dream would not succeed by spending the rest of her days working in a dingy old shop. "And that's why your grandfather brought you here?" He questioned, the topic piquing his interest. "You told him of your dream to teach?" "I guess you could say that." She agreed, not wanting to raise any more questions than necessary. "He didn't bring me from America though, if that's what your meaning. I was already here. My mother sent me to school in America to protect me, with all that Wizarding War carry on and what with me being a Dumbledore, she didn't want to put me in any more danger than I already was. She remained here with my father however and I visited on the holidays." Snape raised a single brow at the mention of her mother and father but changed the subject completely, seeing the woman being to shy away slightly.

"It's getting late." Severus observed. "I should walk you back to the castle before it gets too dark."

"That would be nice" Aria smiled, rising from her seat.

The couple made their way back to the beautiful lit up castle as the sky turned a deep shade of blue above them. They continued to speak all the way down to the dungeons, this time Severus participating just as much as Aria. The Potions Master escorted his apprentice to the door of her quarters, the two of them swaying awkwardly not knowing where to go from here.

"You can come in for a drink... if you'd like." Aria hesitated to ask. "Although I'm not sure I have anything alcoholic, so tea might need to suffice."

"I appreciate the invitation, but it's been a long day for me, I'm afraid I must retire for the night." Now they were back in the familiar castle grounds Severus felt as though he had suddenly returned to his body, and the events of the night lingered at the forefront of his mind, a deep feeling of regret developing in his stomach.

"Very well." Aria agreed, feeling slightly uncomfortable herself. "Good night, Professor Snape."

"Good night, Miss Dumbledore." He spoke softly, rocking anxiously the balls of his feet, waiting for the woman to disappear into her quarters. With a simple nod and one final smile from Aria, she vanished from his sight. The sound of the door closing echoed through the halls, ringing in Severus' ears, and suddenly he felt more alone than he ever had before.

Aria stood with her back to the door, a sigh of relief escaping her lips. As much as she enjoyed the evening with her mentor, the intense awkwardness that occurred at her door, got her thinking about the man on the other side. Her intention was to get to know the man better, and though he did not confide in her much, she felt she had achieved that, maybe more than anyone ever had.

Why had he allowed her to get close to him when he claimed to distance himself from the world?

This thought circled her brain for the rest of the night.

Taglist:

@ayamenimthiriel

[imagineabrighterworld]

Psy-Cutie pt. 1

Summary // Mind Jack is an S-ranked villain who always manages to evade capture. You are a florist working in the city and never really minded what was happening around you. You kept an ear open for more relevant news, but you never heard of Mind Jack or his schemes. This works in Hitoshi Shinso's favor as he crashes into your shop one day, injured and unable to take care of himself. Lucky for him, you are just the healer he needs.

A/N: Based loosely on the song American Beauty/American Psycho, hope you enjoy! ^^

- - -

Hitoshi knew two things when he woke up in an unfamiliar bed.

One. He was in pain.

Two. He was safe.

He knew he was safe with clear surety because if the person who saved him knew who he was, he would have on handcuffs and a muzzle rather than a blanket and bandages.

-4 hours earlier-

Twisting the dial of his mask, Hitoshi tests the new vocals he had acquired.

"Help me! Please Akane!" The voice of a 45 year old woman echoes in the room, bouncing off the concrete walls. The voice belonged to Hiromi Sasaki, the wife of a broker who had ties to several Pro Heroes in the Coruscant district. She had been a thorn in Hitoshi's side what with her providing new equipment and upgraded tech to superheroes. Last month he had nearly been foiled by a beam that concentrated a hypnotic ray. But now he had the perfect plan to get rid of her.

Or rather, get rid of her clients privacy.

"Hiromi! Are you here?!" Akane yells from afar, finally catching up to him after following the sound of her wife from blocks away. Now that they were in a closed and controlled area, Hitoshi felt no need to continue this game of cat and mouse.

"How precious." His voice rings out. "You really do love her don't you. If only that love was enough to keep her safe." He steps out from his spot behind a pillar, looking at the now frozen broker who stood still at the doorway. Her eyes were wide open, a blank canvas.

He stalks forward, lowering his mask into the folds of his capture weapon. "You're going to listen to me now." Hitoshi beckons her with a finger, walking backwards to a single chair. "Come. Let's go over the terms of our agreement."

The woman sits down on the rickety chair, showing no signs of fear as it buckles under her weight.

"From now on, you'll be attaching these to all the equipment you sell to your heroes." He unties a small bag from his waist and tosses it onto her lap. They were tracking devices. "If you get caught, your wife will not come back from what I'll do to her."

Nothing, nothing showed on her face that she was listening, but he knew his instructions ran clear. He could feel his control taking over. His quirk had evolved since his time at U.A, no longer was his brain washing temporary, no, he could give long term instructions. It was very, very useful. An evolution he was sure his old classmate would have loved to jot down. But today wasn’t a day for lamenting old friendships he already burned.

Bang!

His focus snaps to the wall next to him, the concrete was beginning to crack as a barrage of fists pummeled into it.

Shit.

"Don't forget what I told you." Hitoshi pulls his mask back into place, cutting off his connection to the broker, not sparing another second to watch her as he bolts to the farthest window with his capture weapon in hand.

Breaking through the glass he sends the end of the scarf to a faraway pole, using it to swing onto a nearby building. He curls into a ball and tumbles to lessen the impact on his joints before sprinting across the rooftops. Narrowly he evades the paralyzing bullets of police officers on the ground, shouting to the heroes who were hot on his tail.

It was fun, in a way, they were finally making it fun for him after being so easily put down.

But the heroes were prepared for him. Finally, they learned to bring proper backup.

"Mind Jack!" The hero Racer yells from the rooftop next to him. The hero beside them creates a ramp of metal, allowing Racer to send themselves flying onto the rooftop he was currently on.

Hitoshi coils his capture weapon around Racer's leg as they fly midair, twisting them around and throwing them into the new hero behind him. The group that had begun to accumulate was a mixture of A and C ranked heroes, which normally would be easily handled by himself. But he was caught off guard by the sudden appearance of a telekinetic that sent him plummeting into the ground and through the floors below him.

“Damn!” His scarf wraps around the exposed edge of a steel pillar poking out of the concrete floor, allowing him to swing out of sight from the heroes that continued their path downward where they assumed he had fallen. But it didn’t mean he was safe.

All he remembers is the cold wind rushing past him as he breaks through the window of the thirtieth floor and freefalls to the unforgiving ground.

- Now -

Now he was staring at a pitcher of water with slices of lemons and leaves of mint.

Just where did he land?

"Oh you're awake!" A voice chimes in from behind a curtain. He squints at the fuzzy shadow, making out something round and human shaped.

A hand grabs the curtain and pulls it aside, the roundness now obviously a ceramic pot and the human shaped figure.. A very cute human.

He tilts his head as he watches you balance the pot of dirt on your hip, your cheeks smudged along with your gloved hands.

Who were you?

"You scared me earlier! I almost didn't get to you in time." You place the pot on a chair and pull up a stool from the vanity against the wall, crossing your legs as you sat down. "My quirk is a little reckless, so I was afraid I might hurt you more than help you. But you're a sturdy one."

"What is-!" Hitoshi cringes at the pain in his throat, reaching up a hand to cup his jugular. It felt like crushed glass was grinding against his vocal cords.

You stood up at the sound of his voice, already preparing a cup of water to give to him. "My quirk? It's repel. I can repel anything, living or non-living- but the force I exert can change from moment to moment if I'm not careful. So when I saw you falling, I had to use it in small bursts to keep you from smacking the pavement too hard."

Well, he was asking for your name but he took the water anyway, looking it over for traces of a sedative. Deeming it clean, he mouths a quick ‘thank you’ before drinking.

Using the opportunity to collect clues on what kind of person his host was, Hitoshi takes in the sight around him. A pitcher of water on a chipped black nightstand. Macrame potted plants hanging by an open window. A wardrobe with a sweater peeking out. A worn beige carpet on vinyl floors. Photographs of friends and family. Clippings of plants and dried out flowers in picture frames. 

Nothing out of the ordinary. Safe.

A part of him wanted to cringe. How long had it been since he was around something so ordinary? He didn’t live in places long enough to decorate it. He didn’t leave windows open, chancing a police officer spotting him. He didn’t have any of these things you had.

“So..”

He turns his attention back to you.

“Would you happen to be Hitoshi Shinso?”

His grip on the cup tightens instinctively. Without his voice to activate his quirk, he settles on relying on his physicality. Hitoshi reaches instinctively for the scarf around his neck-

But it wasn’t there.

He settles on a nod, preparing to bolt out of the bed should you try screaming for help. Even without his scarf, he was prepared to scale the walls if he had to.

However, it isn't a yell of fear that he is met with. Surprise floods him as he watches your face light up with a smile. You lean forward with your hands tucked under your thighs. “Really?! I watched you in the U.A sports festivals when I was a teenager! You were amazing!”

Without knowing it, his hand raised from his neck to his face, covering his mouth as you continued on, a warmth building in his cheeks.

“I live pretty far away, but I took a trip to U.A. for my second year, and to see you take down students twice your size was so cool! You really worked hard after the first festival and it showed-“ A blush of your own takes root on your face. You scoot your seat backwards. “Ah- sorry about that.. I didn’t mean to be so forward.”

He shakes his head, looking at you with much softer eyes. He was a villain. And had been a villain after leaving amid his third year at U.A. He didn’t regret his decision and never cared for the love the media gave his former classmates. He didn’t need praise or the affection of strangers. He didn’t care about any of that.

But to hear someone praise him for his hard work, and to hear someone put him in such a light? To hear that someone saw him as more than his quirk?

Hitoshi could get drunk on your words alone.

“You don't mind..? I understand if it’s creepy. I've met fans of Deku who even I was uncomfortable next to.”

Once more he shakes his head, unbothered by your enthusiasm. In fact, he liked it. More than he thought he would.

Was this why heroes strived to be popular? The warm feeling it brought? Or was it because it came from you? Someone so blissfully ignorant of what he has done. 

You still saw him as a hero.

A hero.

“Oh! I need to get back to the shop! Your fall left some of my pots smashed, I need to clean it up before someone gets hurt.” You get to your feet and take his now empty glass, refilling it before handing it back. “Take your time,I’ll be downstairs if you need anything.” 

And just when he thought you couldn't get any better, you stumble on your way out, drawing out a squeak from your lips.

He was truly and utterly whipped.

[dmcfsstory]

Also available on Ao3: [link]

Full Proofreaded by Hotspot-the-626th(@ deviantart)​

Partner Artist: @wikimb​

Word count: 14552

Trigger Warning: Violence/Gore description, Depression/PTSD cases

Back to September 13th - Hell

At the most obscure depths of Hell, loud fight noises could be heard. Many lesser demons and even strong demons were trying to hide from the fight range.

Mundus, the former Demon King, who still carried scars from his fight against Dante and Trish, was getting an ass-kicking from an unknown creature. The being had three pairs of wings, a snake-ish body, and two pairs of arms holding two silver swords within one set and a longbow with the other. Its body was covered in snow-white feathers with golden details so finely detailed that it seemed to be hand-draw. It had a female humanoid face, with an owl beak in the middle of the lips, and very long blood-red feathers came from its head, looking like hair. Finally, it had a bone formation over the head that looked like an angel's halo.

The being wasn't having trouble fighting Mundus. It was having fun. It threw him really hard on the ground, making some scars open and showing a bit of Mundus' true form under it.

"What… What are you doing here?" Mundus asked, out of breath and terrified.

The creature took their top left hand to cover their mouth while it was laughing out loud. "Hahaha, isn't it simple? you still own me!"

"No! I-!" Mundus barely could reply before having his face buried into the ground by the creature's hands, which were only half his size.

The smile on the creature's face vanished, and now it was a furious look as if someone clicked a button on its mind.

"Listen here! You piece of shit!" it shouted, "You had one job! ONE FUCKING JOB! And not even with two powerful weapons on your side could you make it work!"

Mundus couldn't respond. His shame for losing to a Sparda ascendant was more significant than his courage to face the white creature.

"This is a two-part deal, remember?! You got the coolest part! Mine was so fucking boring!" It continued to scream at him.

"What… do you want…?" Mundus asked, very ashamed.

The creature gave a very questionable smile and then said, getting closer to Mundus' face, "let's remake our deal…"

??? - ??:??

It was a humid, dark, and cold forest. There was a rain scent in the air. The treetops were dense that the grayish sky above could be barely seen, and just a dim light illuminated a few spots around. Through the dark paths between the tall trees, a loud and desperate crying of a human child could be heard.

Vergil found himself in this odd place. He looked around confused; what happened? Wasn't he just at the Qliphoth base among Dante?

But he felt like the child's crying was calling him; that sound gave him an odd urge to follow it.

In a sprint, he began to run the fastest he could. The more he ran inside the forest, the more the man felt he was being watched by not just one, but countless presences as if he was in the middle of a big city.

Still running, he looked to his sides and behind himself, but he couldn't see anything else aside from the deep darkness within the forest.

That didn't stop him from following the child's crying.

He continued to run the fastest he could, but he started to abnormally get tired quickly. Once he began to lose his breath, the scenery around him began to look different. The trees assumed a distorted shape, the bark turned white with screaming faces carved on them, and the branches looked like arms and legs. There were no leaves anymore. He could now see blood veins connecting the trees, and it was getting dimmer and dimmer. The place was getting hotter and the air heavier.

It was getting difficult for him to breathe properly and his legs burning tired as if he was climbing a mountain. He had to stop to catch a breath, or his body would do so by itself.

When he tried to stop, he nearly stumbled on his feet. The man had to hang his hands on his knees, and he was sweating and breathing heavily.

"Just a quick pause, I need… air," he thought.

*Crack*

The sound of crackling wood came from much closer than the child's cry.

*Crack crack* again.

When he noticed, the trees' arms and legs moved, trying to stretch and reach him out. The faces started to move, and blood began to come out of them. The trees also began to make loud noises as if they were screaming, muffing a bit the child's cry from Vergil's hearing.

He didn't have time to watch that grotesque scene; he had to find the crying child. He didn't catch enough breath, but he started to run all over again.

The heavy and hot air wasn't letting him run at the same efficiency as before. But as he continued on his path, the trees were shaking more aggressively. More blood dripped out of it until he was stepping in large pools of blood, making running much more difficult for him.

The lack of oxygen started to make him dizzy. His vision blurred, not letting him see a white crystal-shaped stone in the ground that he stumbled over.

He fell flat on the blood-soaked ground. His body was weakened, and he could barely move. But even between the screams of the trees, he could still hear the child crying, this time much closer.

With all the strength he had, he directed it to his arms. It was like a heavy stone was over him. He did everything in his power to get up. He eventually started doing so but slowly.

Suddenly, he felt his body being dragged down; he looked back in a hurry to see what it was. Human-shaped forms were coming from below the blood pool. To be precise, the figures were the humans from Redgrave City that the Qliphoth had turned into - empty and dried, dark bloody red carcasses.

He tried to Devil Trigger in a desperate move, but none of his demonic magic responded, and then all of his legs were taken under the blood. He wasn't sinking fast, but very slowly, fuelling his panic.

He didn't have Yamato with himself either, and neither could summon it.

Looking around, in front of him, he could spot many black and white crystal-like formations. He extended his left hand, reaching a white crystal, but it was fragile and shattered the moment he'd put his hands on it.

More of the Qliphoth's victims emerged from the blood, this time coming entirely out of the pool. They walked towards Vergil and began to step on him, making him sink faster.

He tried to fight them, but his body was weak. He had zero strength to even break the thin material of the moving carcasses.

One of the carcasses above the blood raised their feet and straight-up stepped on Vergil's head, sending him ultimately down the blood.

More of the victims started to appear under the blood and began to drag him down faster. He could do nothing except to drown in the freezing cold blood.

When everything seemed to be lost, a child's hand came from above the pool, grabbing Vergil's left hand.

The child easily brought him up.

Once his face met the air, he took a deep breath and regained all his strength.

"You okay, Sir?" the child asked.

Vergil quickly took off the liquid from his eyes. It wasn't blood anymore, just normal cold water.

The first thing he saw was the kid: a little boy, around six years old with peach skin and silver hair like his, as well as sky-blue eyes. He was wearing worn-out clothes, something he probably found in the trash or something.

He concluded that he was in a fountain with a statue that resembled Sparda in the middle after looking around. The water wasn't so deep; it was around his belly as he was in a sitting position. The buildings around were very familiar, a Victorian style of construction, much like how he remembered Fortuna. It was night time; the only illumination was from the lamp posts.

"Sir?" the little boy called Vergil's attention.

Vergil took a better look at the kid; he felt his heart being stung by the boy's eyes. Something about him appeared to be different from all the other kids he had seen through his time. He got mesmerized by the gleam in the kid's eyes, it had so much life in it, but the rest of his body was so messed up and dirty.

The kid looked at him, confused. He was totally lost in what Vergil was doing in that fountain. Why was he staring at him like that?

"Who are you?" the boy asked, snapping Vergil back.

As he got up, he presented himself, "My name's Vergil. And you?"

The kid stepped back as Vergil got out of the fountain; still a bit confused, the kid said low, "Mah… mah name is… Nero."

Vergil took a delay to process the name in his mind.

"Thank you for hel-… Nero?!" he yelled, surprised, looking at the boy.

Nero got a bit scared and stepped further away from Vergil.

Understanding the boy's reaction, Vergil took a breath to calm down. He then kneeled to look at Nero at his eyes' height. He extended his right hand to call him closer and said in a tender voice, "Nero… This may sound sudden… but… I'm your father."

Nero's scared face turned into confusion and skepticism.

"You? My Daddy? That's not funny," He said dryly while he pointed at Vergil with all the sassiness of a legit Sparda.

Vergil didn't expect such a reaction, and he replied a bit embarrassed, "Yes… your biological father… I made you with your mother..."

Nero kept staring at him confused, he didn't want to get closer either. He looked at Vergil as if he was crazy or drunk.

"Nero? Who's him?" another voice, practically the same as Vergil's, came from behind.

Vergil got confused just by the voice, but when he turned back, he got thousand times more confused: There was a man in fancy winter clothes that looked almost like him, just a bit older, with a very short beard and his hair was part silver and part black, brushed backward like Vergil's but just a bit messier. His right eye was blue like his, but his left eye was of a bright caramel color. He also had a freshly cut wound crossing his right cheek, and his face and clothes were all dirty from some sort of a fight.

Vergil could also notice a katana in its scabbard, tied to the man's waist. The guard had an odd moon drawing. The white cord wrapping and handle had black paintings similar to a tiger's stripes. And the pommel had a keychain with a jewel very similar to the Perfect Amulet's golden part Vergil once had.

Vergil had to keep his guard on; that guy probably knew how to sword fight.

"Daddy!" Nero yelled with the purest happiness and ran towards the man.

Vergil got up slowly, staring confused at the man, not understanding what kind of doppelganger shit was happening.

"Hehehe! Hey! My baby!" The man yelled happily.

He got Nero up to his arms, and they hugged very tightly. The man even gave a few kisses on the kid's head, making him giggle happily.

"Who the hell are you?!" Vergil demanded.

The man gave a very suspicious smile at Vergil and responded calmly with a bit of sass in the tone, "Haven't you heard? I'm Nero's dad… but you can call me 'Shooting Star Man.'"

"What the…?" Vergil blurted. "I am Nero's father! Who the hell are you, again?!" he yelled out of patience.

"Are you tho?" Shooting Star Man replied with a mocking smile on the face.

"I don't like him... He's scary," Nero said low, hiding his face on Shooting Star Man's shoulder.

That was like a headshot from a bazooka. Vergil barely interacted with the child and already gave him a bad impression.

"Nero…" Vergil whispered disappointedly.

"Are you really his father?" Shooting Star Man asked.

Vergil answered without thinking twice, "Yes! I am!"

The man started to walk around Vergil's right side slowly, giggling in a mocking tone. Vergil didn't dare engage in combat; the man began to release a very intimidating aura, pretty much like Vergil's but many times more potent. His eyes also turned bright green, and his scleras assumed a four-pointed star shape. He had not just demonic magic, but another Vergil couldn't identify what it was, except that it wasn't demonic at all. He already looked like a formidable opponent just by that.

"So…" the man began, now sounding rather serious. "You seriously call yourself this child's father… when you had ripped off his arm?!"

The man turned so Vergil could see Nero's right arm; he didn't have his arm from the elbow below anymore. The amputated area was all covered with lots of bandages. The child was now crying in pain, shocking Vergil even more than the apparition of a modified clone of himself.

Vergil couldn't speak, only stutter in shock and confusion.

"How could you?!" The man accused while trying to comfort Nero.

"But…" Vergil didn't know what to say to defend himself. "I didn't know he was my son back then!"

"That's no excuse, and you know that." Shooting Star Man retorted but remained composed.

For a few seconds, the only sound in the place was Nero's sobbing and sniffing.

"You knew you had other options to help you in that situation. Why did you choose the Qliphoth one?"

Even with the man threatening Vergil, he couldn't stop looking at Nero. The kid was really in pain about the lost arm, and Vergil never felt so guilty about something he did before.

"Stop…just... give Nero to me...please," Vergil begged.

"Just for power? To fill an empty space inside you?!" Shooting Star Man continued.

"Stop!" Vergil yelled.

"You allowed your fears to blind you! You were looking for something you always had!" The man shouted with confidence

"STOOOOOOP!" Vergil screamed at least and, blinded by rage, he sprinted to attack the man.

He was able to summon Yamato midway, and he swung his sword with all the strength he got when he was aiming precisely at the man's right arm.

At the last second, the man parried the attack with his sword. Vergil didn't even see the movement of his arm to get the weapon.

Shooting Star Man's katana's blade seemed to be made out of diamond. Apparently, blue and golden magic energy was flowing inside of it, resembling a space nebula.

Tsukuyomi

Category: unknown

Type: unknown

User(s): Shooting Star Man

Description: A beautiful sword that shines like the clearest night sky filled with stars and galaxies till where the eye can see.

Vergil didn't have time to admire the opponent's weapon. He was too focused on getting Nero back. The man continued to swing his sword in many attempts to wound Shooting Star Man. Still, he was able to entirely deflect and parry every single attack.

Over the head, to the waist, knees, feet, it didn't matter; Vergil couldn't make a single scratch. And the man was using only one hand to swing his sword, while the other was holding Nero - that was watching everything.

In one last attempt to cut the man in half, Vergil put all his strength in one swing. Unfortunately, he was parried once more, and this time the man threw him and his sword backward, almost making him stay down on his knees.

One thing Vergil only noticed after the last attack was the diamond sword's blade form: the blade was smaller, the length of a dagger by now, the rest disappeared.

As he paid more attention to his surroundings, he could see countless little diamond pieces floating in the air around him.

Shooting Star Man turned to Nero and whispered tenderly, "Don't look at it now, my baby."

Nero gently covered his eyes with his left hand and hid his face on the man's shoulder.

Vergil was out of action. He couldn't channel his magic for what he wanted to use it for - he could only use Yamato as an ordinary sword… if he had it in his hands.

"You have made your choices…" the man said.

"...now let the stars judge you..." he said, pointing the broken sword at Vergil.

Everything happened in a matter of half a second or less. The diamond pieces glowed in bright white light, and faster as lighting, they slashed and pierced Vergil through every part of his body.

He felt like he received his own finishing move - Judgment Cut End - many times but as smaller cuts.

He fell to the ground, bathed in his blood. He didn't have any more part of his skin and clothes in one piece, and his internal organs were like swiss cheese. Luckily, only his head didn't receive such severe damage. And since his brain was intact, he was still conscious.

The Man got slowly closer to him and didn't let Nero watch that horrific scene. The small pieces of the blade quickly returned to the handle and formed the sword again as if it never had shattered.

Vergil's blood began to form a vast pool around him and the same human carcasses from inside the blood from before started to rise, using his blood as material.

There were countless more, probably all the victims from the demonic tree, under and deep down the pool.

"Their blood is your blood now," the man said stoically.

Vergil couldn't move his body, but he could see and listen to what was happening.

"What are you gonna do about that?" The man asked.

When the man's presence got closer, Vergil saw Urizen, and he was now V - wearing Vergil's clothes.

They were both now at the dead and dry place inside Vergil's mind.

Urizen kept staring at V's bleak picture in the bloody ground.

"How long will you insist on this?" Urizen asked, his voice sounded sad instead of the usual confidence.

V could do nothing except stare at the demon. He barely could keep his eyes open.

"All of your ideas only brought pain and sorrow to this place. You know we don't deserve friends… a family…" Urizen said with grief.

-a pause-

"Love…"

Urizen got very close to V and raised his right foot over V's body.

"Enough of your human fantasies," he said slowly...

...And went to step on V with all his strength.

Hell - Next day - Day time… probably…

Vergil woke up in a blast. His heart was racing insanely; his arms and legs were shaking like thin branches in a storm. He was so nervous he had difficulty catching a breath; he was breathing heavily, and his body was stiff.

That dream was so vivid that it looked like it was real.

He didn't even pay attention to what was covering him. He just dragged the supposed blanket over his shoulder, cuddling himself tightly in an attempt to find some comfort and calm down.

Until a robust putrid scent snapped him back to his senses: he was covered by Dante's leather coat.

He may be on alert all time, but something he never stopped to pay attention was his and Dante's scent; his brother hasn't taken a bath in a month… or more. Now him… What was soap like? It's been years since he cleaned himself good enough to call it "bathing."

The smell was twisting his stomach. He had to take in some air, but he noticed a magical barrier when he looked outside. The energy from it seemed to be from Dante, which was also nowhere to be found.

A few minutes later...

Vergil didn't take off Dante's jacket from his back to keep himself warmer. He kept long minutes thinking about that dream: why Nero rejected him like that? The Qliphoth's victims were angry at him… and his… doppelganger? Clone? Shooting Star Man's image and power level were too scary to think about it without losing sanity.

"Hey! You woke up!" Dante's voice came from the other side of the barrier, bringing Vergil's attention back to reality. Surprisingly, he was dragging a dead Riot by the leg with him.

"I brought lunch!" He yelled with a smile, raising his prey's dead body.

Void - next day - 08:37AM - Victor's laboratory

Victor, Kyrie, and Nico took Nero, still unconscious, to Victor's laboratory to examine him better.

The place was located on the city's outskirts, in the middle of the remaining natural forest near the town. The building loosely resembled a Port's shed; made out of concrete, the first floor had a very high ceiling(around ten meters high). The second floor had an average height(nearly three meters high).

The first floor seemed to have come out of an old horror movie about some crazy scientist. The walls were painted dark gray that even with the white LED lights, the place still looked dark - there were only a few small windows at the top of the walls that barely could let some sunlight come in.

A top-notch air conditioning system was keeping the huge place fresh.

There weren't walls to make rooms. It did have countless high shelves and glass cabinets with many demonic samples arranged like a small labyrinth, taking up three-quarters of the place. Many had orbs, stuffed little demons and heads or just a random piece of bigger ones. On the shelves were also bottles that held demon appendages and/or organs in a conventional liquid. There were also countless blocks of papers and books.

Sharing space with the labyrinth, there was a shiny ironed, steampunk-like scientific machinery that created a contrast with the multi-colored demonic things. The equipment didn't look modern aside from the computers and giant screens at the remaining quarter of space left. All that could be used to do experiments with whatever demons it had.

Kyrie was only able to help take Nero to that place thanks to her surprising physical strength. After that, she could only observe Victor and Nico trying to examine and take care of her boyfriend.

For some reason, Victor gave the day off to all his assistants. So he had to take care of Nero alone with Nico only.

Nero was sleeping like a rock, and Victor was very thankful for that. He could use the energy readers on his chest and head to better examine his magic without worrying about some sort of rebellion. Visually, the readers were precisely like a Holter Monitor's electrodes.

Nero's physical health was worrisome as Victor suspected: he was underweight, his ribcage was clearly visible, but fortunately, he wasn't anorexic… yet. It was impressive for Victor how Nero could still fight demons. However, Nico pointed out that his efficiency in battles dropped significantly.

Victor theorized that it was because of his desync problem. It is incredibly stressful on the body. But Nico also thought that Nero's mental state could also be its cause because, since the Orphanage Incident, Nero's behavior changed drastically.

Unfortunately, nothing could be pointed as the real reason until the exams are concluded.

While Victor was waiting for some programs to do their job, he turned at Kyrie using his office chair. He looked at her earnestly and then asked, "Please, be honest… Are you a demon? Or a hybrid?"

Kyrie stared at him, confused and at the same time worried. She honestly didn't know how to answer anymore. The last time she checked, she was human, but she wasn't sure anymore after the previous night's events.

Nico was closer to Victor, who was apprehensive, but she decided to let Kyrie tell the story.

Having noticed Kyrie and Nico's apprehensiveness, Victor asked calmly, "so… you don't know?"

Surprised by the doctor's sharp eyes, she couldn't do much except stare at him with eyes wide open. She knew lying wouldn't help; the only option was to tell the truth. "Yes… I don't know anymore," she said in a confused yet sad tone.

Victor took a deep breath and let out a long sigh. "Well… let's go slower then... -ahem- how did you get your demonic magic?"

Now that question was more challenging than the previous, making Kyrie more nervous. She started to stutter and scratch her head as she looked away, trying to come up with answers. Nico wanted to respond, but she was able to contain herself for now.

"I guess… it was right after I woke up from the coma a few weeks ago..." she responded with a bit of confusion.

Victor's eyes filled with curiosity; a human turning into a hybrid or even a complete demon without dying a short time after was quite rare.

"Why were you in a coma?" he asked.

"Demons… some kind of 'smart demons' attacked the people of the orphanage I used to work… They severely wounded me when I tried to protect the children." she tried to explain.

"What do you mean by 'smart demons'?" Victor asked curiously.

But Nico had to interfere this time, "That was me that called them like that, Uncle. They were very different from anything I ever saw or studied. They worked like a human team would, and they were even willing to make sacrifices for whatever it was their objective or to protect each other…"

Victor was indeed surprised by Nico's statement. Such description about demons wasn't standard, but that was a discussion for another moment; Kyrie was the focus.

"That's really odd, but let's talk about that after this…" he said calmly. "So, they used some magic on you?" he then asked Kyrie.

"No… only their claws and chains," she replied with a bit of unease to remember that event.

She was thoughtful and quiet for a few seconds. Then gently, she took off the feather from Nero's wing off her hairpin, undoing her look. "But… I can feel my magic acting strange, and sometimes it's even a bit painful when I stay away from Nero's magic for too long."

That last statement made some gears start to work on Victor's brain. However, on the other side, Nico was getting nervous knowing how her uncle would react after getting the knowledge about a particular fact.

"Wait… what?" Victor blurted with confusion. "So… your magic has some relation with Nero's? He did something with you magically?" he asked, worried about the incoming answer.

"No…" Kyrie said with a bit of confusion. "Well… aside the Orbs he tried to use on me while I was in a coma."

Victor massaged his nose bridge nervously, raising up his glasses a bit to do so while making some grumbling noises. After that, he said between pauses, but keeping his composure, "Only demons… can use orbs… it was before that then…"

Nico had enough of holding her anxiety. She couldn't wait anymore for the scold she knew she would get. Slowly, she tried to get into the conversation, but speaking very apprehensively, "She… she received blood transfusion.. from...Nero a-after the attack on the or-rphanage, Uncle V-Vic..."

He kept in dead silence for a moment. Nico was already squinting her eyes and clenching her jaw nervously; her body was stiff while she waited for his reaction. Seeing Nico's behavior, Kyrie started to get nervous too. Still, in her case, without knowing why she just felt like something terrible was coming.

If Victor was a computer, a sound of dial-up internet loading could be heard coming from him. He was thoughtful yet scared; he was staring at the void, trying to process that information.

Nico felt Victor's pressure over her soul already without looking face-to-face yet, the man was quiet and immovable.

By only moving his feet, he made his chair turn in Nico's direction. The more he turned, the more the girl was cold, sweating nervously. Victor's reaction wasn't a surprise, she was already waiting for that, but she didn't want to see it.

He was staring at her intensively, looking straight at her eyes.

"Did you let them do a blood transfusion from a hybrid to a vo-void? And blo-blood from a-a Sparda?" He hadn't yelled but spoke in such a severe tone that it made it seem Nico had killed someone.

"Do you know the consequences?" Victor asked, keeping his posture.

Nico moved her head slightly to the sides with a bit of reluctance, denying her uncle's question.

"S-So do I!" He finally yelled; tension and confusion were clearly noticeable in his voice. "Who knows w-w-what can happ-pen as a consequence of a blood tran-transfusion! And from such a strong being! A Sparda's ascendant! They can't e-even breed with a Void! for bein a-a H-Hybrid!"

Kyrie's world stopped during the last lines from the scientist; it was true then? She and Nero can't have their own children because of what they are? Unfortunately, most of what happened during her so short pregnancy was starting to make sense, the pain and uneasy out of time... the miscarriage…

"They can't what?" Nico interrupted Kyrie's desperate thoughts with a blurted question to her uncle.

"You didn't know?" he asked back, a bit confused but not so surprised.

"That's why… we can't have children?" Kyrie said without looking at the doctor; she already had red-ish teary eyes. Her hands were sweating cold as her heart was racing just to remember the painful day of the miscarriage.

"Oh no..." Victor whispered when he saw Kyrie's depressive image. "Have you two already tried?"

"Th-they tried once…" Nico said a bit awkwardly, holding her stuttering.

Victor felt sorry, but he couldn't do much to help Kyrie in that situation, aside from trying to explain why such an unfortunate event happened. "I'm sorry, but that's how nature works… hybrids can only breed with other hybrids. The same goes for 'pures,' they can only breed with other pures. If something happens outside of this rule, it's because it had some interference… like…ritual spells, scientific experiments, etc."

Kyrie didn't respond, just continued to stare at the void. Her face was the perfect description of sadness and despair. As some tears started to form in her eyes, she quickly took them off using the sleeve's end of her jacket. That information was quite hurtful, she and Nero were planning to have a child of their own for nearly a year, and suddenly their dream was shattered into small pieces. They had names planned, bedroom designs, how they would do when Nero had to leave to work, lots of money saved, and so on… but nothing of that mattered anymore.

A freezing chill suddenly rose up on Nico's spine. She remembered her talk with Nero before the incident, making her very worried about the boy more than she already was. Nero was already in a terrible mental state. If he discovers that his suspicion was correct, he definitely will drop dead in despair. That left her in doubt if they really should tell him that after he wakes up.

But what nobody expected was that Nero was listening to all of that final part of the conversation. He just hadn't spoken or moved because of the heavy fatigue over his body and mind.

Nero let go a cracking snort out, loud enough for the others to hear it when they stopped talking. They all turned at him at the same moment, everyone staring with eyes wide open. Nico even jaw dropped scared; she barely thought of the possible incoming problem, and here it was, kicking the door with both feet.

Nero could feel all of his muscles very stiff as he slowly tried to sit up. His body was in total stress because of his unstable magic. It was like he hadn't moved in a month. He couldn't even imagine doing stretches. If he tried so, probably his muscles would break out of their strings. He could snap a joint or two; his neck and shoulders made loud noises as if they actually had broken. During those cracking sounds, he'd let go very tired and annoyed grumbles.

It took a significant delay, for he had noticed the electrodes all over his chest and head. He looked at them with confusion; his face clearly said, "what the fuck is this?" and with zero caution, he took them off, nearly invalidating the apparatus. Loud error beeps came from Victor's computer screens at the same moment. Nico rushed to shut down the program and stop the ear-hurting noises.

Victor couldn't contain his annoyance and blurted out loud, angry words, "What are you doing?! I was doing critical exams on you! Get back in there!"

Nero turned his tired gaze at him, his eyes squinting of so much fatigue. He didn't say a thing, he only slightly moved his right hand up, and with shaking fingers, he raised the middle finger to Victor. He let go a subtle, muffled giggle with a mischievous smile, mocking the man for no reason.

The doctor didn't get offended; instead, he stared at the ill boy with confusion. He wanted to ask him what was wrong, but he knew he wouldn't get an answer. Nero's mind obviously wasn't where it should be right now.

For a brief moment, Nero stood quiet in place, head down, his upper body was -visibly- softly swinging back and front with his own breath. At the same time, his arms were thrown down like a plush doll's and his back arched forwards. He barely could keep his eyes open. They were dry, blood-red, and empty. He honestly looked like he was having a hangover and could throw up or faint again at any moment.

He was indeed in a lethargic mood.

"Nero…?" Kyrie said in a grievous whispering.

Nero began to giggle again in response to Kyrie's call, low and drunk-ish giggling, slightly choking with his own saliva between a few pauses to breathe.

"I had...a dream…" he began to speak in pauses, his voice fading weak. "My dad… was beating… Vergil's ass… hehe..." he finished with a broken smile, without taking his eyes out of the void.

"What?" both Nico and Victor said together.

"Shooting Star Man?" Kyrie let go without thinking twice.

"Yeah…" Nero said with a smile on his mouth, but his eyes were clearly showing sadness.

"Nero… Shooting Star Man was-" before Kyrie could even finish her phrase, Nero quickly interrupted, aiming an angry gaze at her.

"Shooting Star Man was not a dream!" he yelled with a trembling, almost crying, voice. "He exists! And he's my real dad! Not…the fucking… Vergil…" and a tear rolled down on his cheek.

"Foolishness…" he mumbled, returning his eyes to nothingness.

Hell - Daytime apparently - "same moment"

The twins were still at the same place, inside of a made-up cavern on a huge dying root of the Qliphoth. Dante's magical barrier was still up. A simple but very effective spell he learned with Trish, closing the entrance for other demons don't come to annoy them while they eat their lunch.

They weren't talking with each other. They were quietly eating the meat from the demon Dante had hunted down. Each of them had roasted their parts the way they like it using fire magic.

At every bite Dante did, he made a face of total disgust, squinting his entire face as if eating a pure lemon. The meat tasted awful; it was definitely the worst food he ever ate. He was swallowing every bite almost wholly because he couldn't stand the taste.

On the other hand, Vergil was eating like a savage. Using his teeth from his (standard)Devil Trigger form to eat, he looked like he was barely chewing his food and more like swallowing it whole. The man had barely cooked the Riot meat; there was demon blood dripping down his chin and hands. It looked like he hadn't eaten in days, if not weeks. He was almost done with his part his share, while Dante wasn't even at half of his yet.

Dante couldn't believe in his eyes; never in his head passed the idea of his brother, a person so collected and disciplined, to be acting like a wild beast.

Although, he had folded his coat's arms until the elbow and had taken off the gloves to avoid dirty them while he eats. But there was a detail that gained Dante's attention: Vergil's lower arms looked too skinny, very likely how he remembered V's arms. That made him think that his brother wasn't in good physical health, but he wouldn't ask his brother to just simply take his shirt out to confirm that.

He decided to talk about that another moment, having in mind what happened last night.

"How… how can you eat this food like this?" he asked instead, still dumbfounded while staring somewhat scared at Vergil.

Vergil suddenly stopped eating and looked at Dante with a surprised face. His mouth was so full that his cheeks were puffed up, lots of blood around his mouth and dripping down his chin and hands. He had a quick look at Dante's food. He wasn't paying attention to it and was surprised that his brother hadn't eaten, not even half of it.

Dante couldn't help but stare, scared at that odd and savage image of his older brother.

Vergil gave a big swallow to put everything in his mouth down. He then said stoically, looking at the big piece of meat in his hands he was holding by the bone. "You get used to the taste of it… there will be a moment your tongue will start ignoring it," and he took another bite.

That was a bit unexpected, but at the same time, it wasn't. After last night's story, Dante was more aware that Vergil had a though life trying to survive the consequences of his own acts. But still… used to eat raw meat? Vergil was so focused on his demon side like that? Or was it something else?

"I'm starting to envy you, to be honest," Vergil suddenly broke Dante's thoughts.

Dante turned his gaze from his piece of awful food to his older brother. Vergil had left his ordinarily stoic face and was staring emotionless at his piece of meat half-eaten.

The younger brother's silence made it clear he didn't understand what his older brother just said.

"You have friends… a cool job... -a pause- you didn't have to worry about… surviving all the time…" Vergil said with a bit of sadness in his voice. "You had a family by your side…"

Dante takes a moment to realize what he meant by that last line, "You mean Nero?" he asked just to confirm.

"Yes… I envy you for that… I don't think I ever will experience such moments…" Vergil said with grief as he recalled the dream he had earlier.

Such a statement did sting Dante with suspicion. He really didn't like how that sounded. He started to look for words to describe his feelings towards that, but he was too confused to make up something at that moment.

He couldn't speak, only look at random directions as if searching for some inspiration.

Unfortunately, he couldn't think of anything, and they spent the following minutes of their lunch in silence.

After finishing his share, Vergil licked his fingers and hands, not because the food was good, it was just to clean them out before wearing his gloves again. To clean his face from the demon blood, he did very like how a cat would do; by licking the side of his hand and passing thought where he wanted to clean: his cheeks, chin, and mouth.

Meanwhile, Dante couldn't eat all of his shares and just simply tossed, with no difficulty, the leftovers very far to outside their hideout(without vanishing the magical barrier). He cleaned his hands on his coat anyway.

There was dead silence between them once again, that same awkward silence from the previous day.

Dante was finally coming up with something to ask his brother. Still, he was a bit reluctant this time because of how much Vergil scared and worried him talking about his life. He had to find a way to touch the wounds with more caution than before.

He pretended he would start talking a few times, opening his mouth to speak and turning to look at Vergil, but he ended up giving up.

Vergil only stared at him with suspicion and waiting for a conversation to start, but it never came.

Finally, when Dante moved to start a conversation for real, something called the attention of both at the same time:

"Dante…!"

"Vergil…!"

A weak and tired voice of a woman echoed in their heads out of nowhere.

They both stared at each other scared, they didn't need words, only their look exchange told each other that they heard the same thing.

The voice called them again, but this time a bit louder and clearly in a panic:

"Dante! Vergil! I need your help, please…"

They jumped out of their place and stood up. Vergil looked around the area for some demon that was possibly messing up with them, but Dante stared at the void; that voice was somewhat familiar.

"Kyrie?" he asked in the air.

"Nero's girlfriend?" Vergil blurted, remembering that Nero told him her name back when he was V.

"Nero is gonna die… help! Please!" she said in a sobbing and panicking voice.

Void - same day - 09:00 AM - Victor's Laboratory

Among Nico, Victor was trying to put the electrodes back on Nero for the exam to restart. But he didn't want to collaborate. The man was waving his arms towards them to shove them away every time they touched him or just got closer. While he did so, he was groaning like a stubborn child that didn't want to do what the adults were trying to make him do.

Kyrie tried to talk with him many times, but he wasn't listening to her too. He was avoiding eye contact altogether.

They could only put two, out of the eight, electrodes on Nero the moments before he -inexplicably- started to act like that. One in his right temple and the other at the left side of his chest.

Such behavior was quite shocking, especially for Kyrie. Nero was behaving like a sad and scared child. He was curling up in himself, an attempt to look smaller. His arched back let his spine be more visible under the skin of his skinny body, giving him a more decaying image than before. He got his left arm wrapped around his belly and his right arm over his head, trying to hide his face from the others. He was sitting over his left leg, and the right one was bent up for the knee to help hide his face. He was breathing heavily and pacing fast between groans of a supposed crying being held with all of his mental strength left. He was shivering entirely, almost like he was feeling super cold.

Victor took a step closer to the boy with an electrode in hand. Nero could see him through a small opening between his arm and knee.

"Stay away! Stay away!" he begged in a crumbling voice, curling up even more.

Victor said nothing and stepped back cautiously, only to look at the girls and face anxious looks. After all… they saw a loved one in front of them in a terrible mental and physical situation. Kyrie was on the edge of a panicked crying.

Feeling defeated, Victor asked the ill boy, "okay… what do you want for you to cooperate with us?"

Without leaving his fetal position, Nero's breath accelerated a bit, cold and big tears went down his cheeks. "I want… I want my… dad… my dad… the… Shooting Star Man..." and he started sobbing.

Victor let out a long sigh. He shook his head and took off his glasses. He pressed his nose bridge between his eyes and closed them hard, trying to contain himself for not responding to Nero as if he was sane.

Both Kyrie and Nico couldn't move their eyes away from that decaying person they always knew as a tough and prideful man. Such a situation made them think, "he has been hiding those feelings all this time?", "that's how he truly feels inside?" and "why did he never tell us about that?"

Kyrie let a tear escape thinking about it, but she cleared it quickly. She must be strong; otherwise, she wouldn't be able to help Nero.

Victor put his hands on his waist. Sounding a bit impatient, he asked the girls, "Well then… this totally looks like it is a serious PTSD case, is there something I don't know yet? I have a friend that's a renowned therapist. She can help him out too."

The girls exchanged thoughtful looks, thinking about something they could reveal so the doctor can have a better north about what to do next.

Meanwhile, he walked towards a shelf near the computers. Nico accompanied him with her head only and saw him taking off a sedative glass bottle out of an aluminum box.

She gasped silently and walked to him quickly. "Are you sure this is necessary?" she almost whispered, astonished by her uncle's decision.

"Do you know a better option?" he whispered in a nervous yet worried voice. "He's definitely not in the mental state for this, but I need to finish those exams so I can know how to aid him until Vergil and Dante come back."

Nero could hear them talking with his demonic super hearing, and once he heard "Vergil," his heart raced insanely.

Kyrie could hear them too, but not so clear like Nero. She couldn't understand what was going on, but it wasn't good.

Without leaving his position, Nero began to look in front of him for a way to escape: he'd spot his coat in a hanger and his boots under it near some kind of automatic double door. But how would he run away quickly? Victor surely would know how to stop him.

Only if he could touch him, he realized. He then had an idea that would make them all probably mad, but he *had* to get it out of there in his mind.

He heard their steps on the cold concrete floor getting closer. One thing he couldn't see was the syringe in Victor's hands.

He couldn't wait any longer.

In a second, his hair and all of his body hair turned black. Everyone noticed that an instant before the computer began to make very loud emergency warnings, taking the attention off him for his luck.

Sounds of crackling flames called out the others' attention back. They could see a large red flame passing through a small gap in the middle of the exit door for just a few seconds.

Both Nero and his coat and his boots had disappeared; only the electrodes were left in the chair.

"OH SHIT! NO!" Victor yelled, presuming the flames he saw were Nero.

Nico had stopped the machine's loud noises in a hurry, just to finally read the message on the screen that said: "MAGIC SIGNAL LOST."

The living red flames flew through the woods behind the laboratory, going in the direction of the city. After a minute or two, the fire gained a precise shape, and Nero materialized himself out of it, with his coat and boots in hands.

Not only his hair and body hair were with a different color, but his eyes also changed. They went from the typical sky blue to a bright emerald green color.

He was breathing hard and out of energy, his eyes swollen and red, eyebags dark like Vergil's, and his face tired like never before. He couldn't stand up and threw his body over his knees, but his arms faltered, and he kissed the grassy ground.

He cursed in a whisper and slowly got up, squinting his face at every move because of the pain. His body was so weakened, so exhausted, he wished he just could lay there and cease to exist.

At a slow pace, he wore his jacket, zipping it to feel a bit warmer and then wore his boots. Then his hair and eyes' color returned to the usual silver and sky blue, respectively. Thanks to upgrades on his weapons made by Nico, he summoned Devil Queen and Carnage Rose from the van to his hands as if they were Devil Arms.

He heard his name being called by Kyrie far away in the woods, he couldn't let her find him, or she would bring him back to Victor; he opened his spectral wings in a rush and flew away with a single flap.

Kyrie could spot him flying in the sky as soon he got very high. She became much more apprehensive, realizing she would need to take more drastic measures to contain Nero. Unfortunately, she was the only one around that could do that.

She called her staff like Nero called his weapons and activated the flying mode. She rose to the sky very fast, trying to reach the altitude that probably Nero was. That was her first time going so high, but she calmly stabilized.

By wearing a headphone in her left ear- connected to her phone- she could call Victor. "I've found him! But I will have to chase him!" she told the doctor.

Victor instructed in a hurry: "Oh shit! Well… get Nero and stick that thing I gave to you on his skin. Anywhere is good! But give preference to his chest and head. This is a prototype of a remote magic reader! It's not as efficient as those ones I have here, but it will help a lot already!"

"Okay!" she yelled confidently.

She then looked at a small device Victor gave to her, a gray and round button, smaller than the palm of her hand, with a little red LED light in the middle. She put it back in her pocket and accelerated to catch up with Nero; she couldn't waste more time.

Getting closer to the city, she noticed that she was high in the sky as the megacity's tall buildings. The growth was quite remarkable; the vast gray ocean of buildings till the eye can see. The people and the vehicles' noisy sound in the streets and large avenues, the dark line on the horizon due to the heavy pollution created a total contrast with the shining blue sky with fluffy white clouds above.

She wanted to stop and admire such human creation. She thought she would never leave Fortuna and witness that kind of thing, much less that way.

But that wasn't the time for that; she had to find Nero.

The loud sounds from the city were an annoying buzzing in her ears due to her new demonic hearing and the terrible pollution scents in her nose.

She was flying the fastest she could, turning her head to the sides looking for Nero in a hurry, but how would she find him in such a gigantic place?

She had to think, think! She knew Nero better than anyone else… At least she thought she did. The bitter feeling of Nero never having told her about his grieves made her quite sad, but also, on the other hand, she could understand why he did that...

"Got something?" Victor called her in the phone call, giving her a little jumpscare. For a moment, she forgot she was on a call.

"Not yet… he blended with the city…" she said, worried.

She heard some thoughtful hummings coming from the other side of the call for a moment and then Nico's voice from the background.

"Yeah, that may work," she heard Victor talking with Nico.

"You know the feather you must wear?" He now asked her. "Focus on it. It's still connected to Nero. Spectral objects stay magically connected to their creators until it's vanished by them or when they die."

"Okay, I will try that!"

Kyrie stopped in the air and closed her eyes. She laid her hand over the feather in her hair clip for better focusing. She began to use some meditating techniques she knew, giving her complete focus to the feather's emanating energy.

Slowly, she could feel a magic string leaving the feather. The more she focused, the more she could see the line in her mind.

The line grew… and grew… and grew…

Until she saw Nero at the end. His energy was a mess and aggressive, like a vast hurricane moving out of control and ready to destroy everything in its path.

"I think I found him!" She yelled confidently.

"Amazing!" Victor shouted with relief. "Hurry! Every second, his condition gets worse!"

She left her place in a blast, going full speed. Following the energy path, she didn't know she had that sixth sense now.

Swinging between the buildings quickly and precisely, she noticed the enormous windows of them; there was a problem if she flew so close to ordinary humans? Humans may know that demons and devil hunters exist, but it was okay they see a human doing demon magic like that?

She started to have flashbacks back to the orphanage's attack and felt better fly above the city.

The altitude was very frightening. Death was certain if she fell off - as if the previous height wasn't already - she was a bit demon now but not demon enough to survive such fall like Nero would. Still, she kept herself under control, not looking down, only in front.

Nero's energy was starting to descend towards the city's asphalt. He was probably going to land. The closer she was getting to Nero, the more turbulent the signal was getting.

Now she had to follow the signal in the middle of the giant mass of people; only in an intersection of avenues looked like it had more people than Fortuna's population. That gave her goosebumps, but bringing back Nero to safety kept her motivated.

There were dozens of scents and different energies from the large mass, so filtering Nero's magic out of it would need more concentration than before.

Inside Nero (figuratively)

Much like Vergil's mind, the place was nearly dead, dry soil, and a small pool of water in the middle, but the difference was the tree. Nero's tree was frail at the bottom, and it got a bit stronger at the top, making it look like it was upside down. Devil Queen and Carnage Rose were by the side of the tree.

There were three entities there:

N (Nero's human self), a boy visually the same age as Nero with a face similar to V's, long hair like Nero's Devil Trigger itself - but it was part black and part white -, and yellow eyes. He was also wearing the same clothes Nero was in reality.

Hintkurt (Nero's demon self) was a demon visually similar to Urizen but half its size with a rigid scaled body. It had a few extra eyes through its chest and a large one where it would be his forehead. His shoulders had big mouths with sharp teeth each.

Then there was Hintchack (Nero's unknown self), a sleek and snake-ish creature with four arms and four wings, a humanoid owl face with long feathers that resembled hair in his head, and a third eye like Hintkurt. His body was all white with some red paintings so detailed that it looked hand-painted. He wasn't big like his magical partner; he was the same size as a human.

The three of them were fighting against each other, but the two monsters mostly focused on the human. There were countless markings around the place; scorched areas by fire and other magics, big crackings and holes, claw markings, and so on.

Hintchack used his long tail to slap N on his back, sending him a few steps away. The hit was so strong that N couldn't react to get back on his feet, and his face was slammed against the ground.

"You stupid shit! When you'll learn that's a fucked up idea?!" Hintchack shouted harshly, his voice high pitched and cracked.

N, already wounded from previous hits from the bird-snake-ish creature, tried to get a bit of strength to rise up, but he was out of breath already. He was struggling to lift his head up, "What if...I'm right? Stop judging the others -cough cough- by the cover!"

"Are you serious?!" Hintchack shouted furiously. "No jackshit, Vergil can't have a good side! AND HE'S NOT MONSTER! MONSTER IS DEAD!"

Entirely the opposite from the screaming avian, Hintkurt, with his deep demonic voice, spoken calmly, "The parrot is right. Let go of this stupid idea that Nero will have parents. That's illogical. We're all grown-ups! Adults do not even adopt pre-teens, much less other adults!"

"But… what if…" N stuttered, the sadness on his face was evident, but he wasn't going to give up.

Hintkurt let go a long and annoying breath while Hintchak was close to plucking the feathers of his head out of anger.

"'If I beat Nero… I won't lose next time!'" Hintchack mimicked Vergil. "You really think that's how a father would sound? You idiot!"

"He was even going to kill Dante!" Hintkurt added.

"Another scum…" The bird blurted angrily.

"Dante is not bad!" The demon retorted.

"Oh really?! What… 'uncle' hides the truth about your bloodline for five fucking years?! He was willing to keep it secret if I haven't pressured him!"

Hintkurt didn't know how to respond; deep down, he agreed with that point.

"He… must have… a good reason.." N said between exhausted breaths.

"ARGH! Spare me of this family-care bullshit! He didn't want to have official responsibilities!" The avian shouted, flying closer to N.

"Only visiting to have lunch, making calls just to ask for money or pass a demon hunting job!"

"Help with sword fight training, helped create a devil hunting branch… he even sold some devil arms to gave Nero money for the van's fixes… and…" Before the demon could continue, Hintchack attacked him, cutting his chest using his wings' long sharp feathers.

"ENOUGH!" He shouted, pissed.

"What is wrong with you?!" The demon yelled, confused, stepping back.

"We all know Nero won't be able to have a happy family! Can't we all agree it's a lost case?!" Hintchack shouted out loud.

"We… are not… a lost case…" N said, his voice still weak, but he could stand on his feet now. "You are just paranoid!"

"ME?! PARANOID?! HAHAHA!" and he flew towards N, sending him back to the ground using his four hands.

Holding him still, he shouted in his face, "Who keeps crying and killing Nero's image is not me! You! YOU are the big kid here waiting for irrational wishes to come true! GET LOST! Nero will never have a daddy or a mommy!"

"We always knew this…" Hintkurt added. "Since we lost Monster… the last person that…"

"But! Shooting Star Man!" N interrupted.

"That motherfucker isn't real!" The bird yelled, a vein almost popping in his forehead.

"HE IS! He just won't come back!" The demon shouted, quickly taking the bird off of N, holding him by the tail.

"HOW DARE YOU?!" He shouted and again used his feathers to hurt the demon that released him at the same moment because of the pain from the severe wound.

"YOU PIECE OF SHIT!" The demon shouted, very pissed off with the stubbornness of the avian fellow.

They both started to fight using their magics, a fight so aggressive they were beginning to destroy the place again, heavy dust began to rise due to the dry soil.

"Stop! STOP! You're hurting Nero!" N shouted with all his strength left, but the magical beings didn't listen. They continued their fight without caring about him or the place.

The human could do nothing but whimper in grief. He continued to stay down on the ground and put his head between his crossed arms. There's nothing he could do… he needed help, and he knew that.

"Vergil… Dante… help me… please…" he whispered in agony.

But the two creatures could -surprising- hear his praying and stopped the fight almost immediately.

"YOU SAID WHAT?!" They shouted in synchrony, looking at the helpless human on the ground.

Back to reality…

Nero was sitting in the shadow of a small alley, hidden from the noisy and agitated crowd. He was in a fetal position, holding his head in pain. His two magics were fighting inside of him, and he barely could keep them under control. He was being hurt from the inside out. It was like small ghostly daggers were stabbing him. He was bleeding a little through his nose and mouth. In his eyes, the blood was mixing with his tears of agony. His skin, however, was starting to show up signals of a crackling similar to dry soil.

His mind was in complete chaos. At the same time, he wanted to call help...he didn't. He didn't know what to do; he just wanted to stay there, quiet, letting his internal struggle consume him.

But then, Kyrie found him. At first, she just observed him from far away, figuring out what was going on. When she got closer, she soon could feel his two magics fighting.

He was immobile.

She slowly walked to the middle of the alley, stepping softly so as not to make a noise. But her focus on the man was so intense that she didn't see the broken glass on the ground.

The soft cracking noise called Nero's attention, and he immediately looked at her.

Noticing who it was behind his foggy and red-ish vision, he quickly got up, using his leftover strength. When he attempted to sprint, Kyrie called him desperately, "NERO, NO! Please! Don't go! I just want to talk!" almost deafening, Victor was still in the call.

He stopped with her calling, but he didn't turn to look at her.

"Nero… please… tell me what is going on… I just want to help you..." she begged.

"HELP?! There's nothing you can help with!" Hintchack yelled furiously.

"Stay away, it will be better like this…" Hintkurt said with a bit of sadness.

"Kyrie… help…" N then cried in a helpless whisper.

"SHUT UP!" Hintchack yelled at him.

With a weak and sad voice, Nero almost whispered, "Just… leave me… please… I don't want to hurt you again..."

"Hurt me? When have you done that?!" She said quite incredulously.

"Lost memory or something?" Hintchack blurted.

"If you're thinking my coma and the exil-" before she could finish her sentence, Nero turned to her. His expression was an incomprehensible mix of sadness, anger, and pain. His face was all dirty with his own blood and tears.

"OF COURSE THEY'RE MY FAULT!" He shouted, his voice fading and muffled due to the fatigue of so much crying.

"All of the shit that happened to us… to your family… it's all my fault! I...I'm cursed…" he said with an ashamed and defeated voice.

Kyrie made a quick connection to what he was talking about. Fortuna's people never liked him because his demon magic attracted demons to him. People used to call him a "demon-magnet" and bully him as hell because of it.

She took a deep breath before continuing to speak. She didn't want to make the man run away again and slowly, she was trying to get closer, they were meters apart.

"Nero… You're not cursed… you're not like everyone always told you…" She tried with the softest voice she could do.

"How could she never notice?" Hintkurt said low and sad, holding N with one hand to make sure he couldn't say anything.

"Yes… Yes, I am!" he yelled between sobbings. "I honestly always envied you and Credo, you always had a family, had loving parents… you were -sob- respected..."- pause to take a breath - "but… but it was just me get in your life… and everything went down the hill -sniff- your parents died… Cre-Credo…" And he once again began to hold back a desperate crying. He did not want to in front of Kyrie.

"Stop, Nero! You can't blame yourself for that!" she tried to call him a little back to his senses.

"Please… let's go back to Victor so he can help you clear your mind and body… please," she begged.

"ENOUGH OF THIS!" Hintchack screamed with rage.

"HOLD UP! We must not hurt her!" Hintkurt interfered quickly.

"You seriously think I would hurt her, dumbass?!" the bird yelled incredulously.

"I don't trust you." the demon responded harshly.

Nero shut down his eyes and put his hands on his head. He was in panic and pain at the same time. The man began to hurt his scalp with his nails, and the bleeding from his eyes, nose, and mouth started to get worse. He had to cough out the blood from his throat.

Kyrie was panicking, but she was able to keep her composure. Still, when she tried to open her mouth to talk again… an eruption of desperate and panicking human screamings echoed around them.

Kyrie gave a quick look behind her just to see what was going on. Countless people were running in a panicked hurry from something, very likely to be demons.

Unfortunately, when she turned to look back at Nero, he had disappeared. Her heart raced in panic; she had no idea from where he could have gone. Once again, she would have to follow his energy track, but the more she saw people running, she began to feel the presence of other demons. It was hard for a newbie Devil-Magic user to concentrate on Nero's magic with all the nearby monsters' interference.

In a sprint, she ran outside the alley just to meet face to face with a demon, but it wasn't any demon: it was the same wolf-skull head ones from yesterday's morning.

Instinctively, using her right hand, she casts a lightning spell that blew up the demon's wolf-skull helmet, revealing a human mummy-like head that was under it.

The demon fell backward, wholly stunned, while she kneeled, holding her right hand in pain. She could feel her magic pulsing like an insane heartbeat in her hand; she thought her hand would literally explode.

'You idiot! You must use the staff… always!' she told herself madly.

"Kyrie? Kyrie?! What happened?!" Victor asked because of the loud, bomb thunder noise he heard on the other side.

"I'm fine… I just… didn't use my staff.." Kyrie said in a tense voice.

"KYRIE!" Nico yelled, a bit incredulous.

"I know… I know!" Kyrie yelled too, but impatient.

“Thunder Rose”

Category: Human-made

Type: Magic Catalyst

User(s): Kyrie

Description: A magical staff made by Nico. It helps Kyrie learn how to control her recently owned demonic magic and since it’s made of a very resistant material, she can also use it as a blunt weapon.

She got back on her feet quickly, and when she stopped to look at the avenue, she almost lost her breath. Jaw dropped; she couldn't count how many demons were there; they came this time in a massive hoard. They were attacking humans and killing them.

But when she paid attention to one that had already killed its prey, she saw that it wasn't eating the human's flesh. Instead, it was taking it away, running against the direction of the attacking ones.

She couldn't handle them by herself alone. It was too many for her.

"What's with all these people screaming?! Where is Nero?!" Victor yelled, his voice very worried.

"There's a bunch of demons here! And Nero ran away from me…

"What?! You MUST find him!" Victor said almost in a demanding tone.

"Take! Take it! Take to the Sin!" one demon that passed close to her caught her attention.

"The Sin needs flesh!"

"The great Sin will revive!" Many of them were shouting in a demonic language she could understand.

Until one of them yelled, "Dragon! Dragon!"

It called her attention that one wasn't attacking humans. It was utterly ignoring them all.

"Get the Dragon!" others yelled.

Some were strangely blabbing, a similar thing the ones from yesterday were.

Dragon? Could they be talking about Nero?

Those demons certainly could tell the difference between demon-magics better than she, and she decided to follow them. She rose up to way up over the panicking crowd riding her winged staff.

She could observe all of those "dragon-seekers" going into the same point. She accelerated to go ahead of them. The more she advanced, the better she could feel Nero's magic apart from the other demons'.

Not even half a minute of flight, she spotted Nero in the middle of the avenue. He was fighting against the same demons, but his condition wasn't letting him fight like he used to. He had to rely on his spectral arms and gun.

Those demons weren't ordinary; they were using teamwork to get close to Nero.

They were all around him, shooting their arrows with chains close to him, trapping him, but Nero knew the only way to leave was flying IF all of them missed their chains. But Nero didn't have the strength -physical, mental, and magical - to fly away so perfectly, they would get him.

Kyrie quickly dived towards the demon horde; in a swift move, she took her staff from her feet, and the wings rolled together to form a ball shape. With all the strength she got, she slammed the demons using her staff as a giant hammer, killing and stunning a few that were in front of Nero.

The wolf-skull-helm demons even dismantled their formation for a brief moment because they didn't see her getting close.

Nero felt some relief in seeing Kyrie again, but at the same time, he got scared, he wanted to leave as fast as possible, but that was a distant wish by that point.

"Kyrie… you…" he mumbled between painful groanings.

"Quiet!" She yelled, mad at him. "Just focus on getting out of this. We talk about that another moment."

Nero got briefly stunned. Never had Kyrie raised her voice towards him like that. He got quiet and decided to listen to her for now.

His legs weakened, and he kneels on the ground. His magics were starting to fight inside him again. Kyrie didn't think twice when she saw him like that. She slapped Victor's device on his nape in one swift move.

"What the hell?!" Nero yelled, confused.

"Don't even think about taking that off! I dare you!" she threaded him.

"YES!" Victor yelled victorious at the other side of the call. "Those readings aren't perfect but will help a little already!"

The demons got furious with her interference. The ones in front of her raised their body quickly and shot their arrows at her.

She swung her staff and blasted an electric discharge at the arrows, sending them away. More demons started to do the same from different directions right after.

She kept blasting energy to send the arrows away. From behind, her left, right, she was circling around and sometimes even jumping over Nero. The man still was kneeling on the ground, trying to catch a breath while blood was dripping from his eyes, nose, and mouth.

During the middle of that situation, she and the demons took a quick pause to breathe, and she could blurt something: "If only… Dante and Vergil…"

"We… -cough cough- don't need… them," Nero said with his trembling voice.

Kyrie's blood boiled that moment; she couldn't stand Nero's stubbornness anymore. He was passing the limit of irrationality.

"SHUT UP!" she shouted, scaring him and the demons around. "Listen here! You're not in the condition to make decisions yourself! So, stay quiet and listen to what I say! Okay?!"

"Oh wow… that was hot", Hintkurt blurted.

"Is that what you're thinking about in this situation?!" N yelled incredulously at him.

"She's… scaring me…" Hintchack said, hiding his head under his wings.

Nero didn't know what to respond to. He just kept quiet, staring at her, his eyes wide open of both surprise and scare.

"Good!" She yelled, returning her gaze to the demons. She couldn't believe she had to raise her voice at Nero like that. She didn't want to, but that was a matter of life and death. He had to cooperate.

Quickly, all the demons coordinated to shoot their arrows at them at the same time. It didn't have how to avoid that attack if not flying.

Kyrie didn't know an area spell to help in that situation either.

Suddenly, the programs on Victor's computer started to give emergency warnings of "magical signal lost" again.

"What the?!" he yelled. "Kyrie?! What happened?!"

No response.

"Kyrie!" He shouted, but she was stunned in place, staring at the small protective red bubble around her and Nero.

Nero had his arms extended, his hair was black, and his eyes green once again. He quickly cast that shield to protect them, sending the arrows away.

He couldn't stand it much longer and dropped tired to the ground. Then, the protective bubble exploded, sending the demons not so far away from them and stunning them in the process.

"KYRIE!" Both Victor and Nico shouted, trying to call her attention. They made it but almost gave her a heart attack.

"I'm here! I'm here!" She replied, scared.

"What happened to Nero?!" Victor asked, quite worried.

"Did he switch magics?!" Nico asked right after.

"He what?!" Victor blurted, now confused.

"Yes, he did," Kyrie replied. Simultaneously, she quickly kneeled to check on him: he was heavily breathing, sweating like crazy, and, unfortunately, but fortunately, he was unconscious.

Still staring at the monitor, Nico explained, "That's the other thing we came to ask you, Uncle Vic. Nero recently discovered he has a second magic type. I couldn't get readings with any device I had… and apparently, yours can't read it too…? Oh shit…"

Victor stayed silent, trying to process why that other magic of Nero couldn't be read by their devices and why he had another type within him?

He then gave a quick gaze to a specific painting he had on the same computer station wall. Noticing the peculiar look, Nico turned to look at the picture too, but she couldn't understand much: it was an image half white in the top and half black in the bottom. She couldn't clearly see the details because the painting was a bit far and wasn't that big.

Victor returned in silence to his computer and started to do something on his programs. Nico saw that something snapped in his mind, and she would not question him about it now.

"Kyrie! Is Nero okay?" Nico asked instead.

"He… he just dropped... unconscious… urgh," her voice sounding as if she was doing a lot of strength.

"What are you doing?" Nico said, worried with her tone.

Kyrie was trying to take Nero to an alley while the demons were stunned, using her staff's magical wings. She pulled the staff with all her strength while the wings formed a basket shape under Nero.

"Trying to… find a safe place…" she replied, breathing heavily.

The demons were starting to snap back to their consciousness when Kyrie entered an alley and could hide her and Nero between large trash containers.

Nero's magic was dim by now, but the demons could still sense it; they barely woke up and already started to flow his weak signal.

Kyrie fiercely stood nearby the place she left Nero. The demons couldn't enter all at once in the area.

They began to menacingly enter the alley, ambling with their four members. The path was dark, cold, and stinky. Only their shiny orange eyes were visible among the shadowy shape they had in the dark.

That vision sent a chill down Kyrie's spine. Her hands were sweating cold inside her gloves, she wanted to take Nero and run away, but that wouldn't be easy to achieve. She had to fight, fight not just for Nero's safety but also hers.

Unfortunately, that was the first time she didn't have Nero's aid to help her when something went wrong. She was alone, entirely by herself only, giving her the same sensation Nero always had when she was in danger.

She positioned herself ready with her staff. There wasn't space for the scythe blade to swing by. The only option was to use brute force and her smaller electric spells.

"Give… the...DRAGON!" the one front-most yelled and jumped towards her.

She could smack the demon's head against the ground, killing it in one quick swing before it could touch her with its scrawny fingers.

Another one fired its arrow to pierce her body, but she spun her staff really quick and rolled the chain on the top side of it. In a decisive move, she pulled the demon at her, and, using the staff's bottom end, she pierced against the demon's head.

She then sent it away against the other ones in an air kick with all her right leg's strength, breaking its chain. Only one got hit by the flying body and sent out of the alley.

Another two climbed the walls in a sprint and jumped over her. With the staff free, she turned the engine on with her magic and blasted the demons away.

But another one was already in a jump towards her right after and threw her against the ground. She held the creature's hands with her staff, as well as its neck.

She was fighting with everything she got. The demon was trying to push her staff against her throat. But her strength wasn't enough, the demon was slowly winning, and she could see its sadistic smile on its mummy face.

KABOOM

The demon was blasted away in a loud and robust light blast.

Kyrie got blind and deaf for a moment; she could only hear a lousy beep. Her head was inexplicable, spinning and hurting from the light blast.

Victor and Nico had a heart test when they heard the loud blast through the call.

While trying to recover her senses, she used her staff to help get support to get up. A bit dizzy and deaf, the first thing she looked after with her partially white vision was Nero. Fortunately, he was in the same place and position she had left him; she could support his back in one of the big trash containers, but his body was stiff. His arms and legs sometimes jumped with little spasms. He wasn't desyncing yet, but his magic definitely wasn't okay.

Looking outside the alley, some demons were killed, and others were just lying down unconscious. They simply vanished away. The ground was temporarily covered with electrostatic energy, making Kyrie a bit reluctant to move out of the place.

"Hey! Those are no demons for noob'ing around!" a strange young voice came from far outside the alley.

Kyrie tried to see who it was; her vision was almost recovered by now. She could only identify a tall human figure, in a scarlet red coat, white hair with a single hair clump of a different darker color. They were holding a tall and shining Spear, probably a weapon for fighting demons; strangely, she could also feel demonic magic coming from them.

"Get out of here!" the person shouted and ran away.

"NO! Wait!" But the person was already far.

"What's up?!" Nico asked right after.

"There was… another… Devil Hunter, I guess…" she replied with confusion, not so sure of what she saw just now.

"Anyway!" she regained all her senses back again. "I need your help, please! I can't take Nero like this by myself. There's too many demons here too."

"No need to worry, pal! We were already getting out stuff together here!" Nico yelled confidently, but deep in her tone, Kyrie felt her worry.

"Thank you!" She said with a bit of relief.

But that wasn't the moment to relax. The demons were still there. Kyrie used this opening to kill the closest demons and to collect some green and red orbs. It was easy to kill them standing still, just blasting their chest and cutting their heads off with no effort at all.

It took her less than 5 minutes to do so, but for a brief moment, she contemplated how much she changed in such a short time. In the end, she shook her head to regain focus. It wasn't the moment for that.

She quickly absorbed the red orbs around and held onto as many green orbs as she could. In a hurry, she brought them to Nero, who absorbed them in his sleep.

The muscular spasms stopped, but he didn't wake up.

The only thing she could do was wait for Nico.

"Dante… Vergil… Where are you? Nero needs your help…" she begged in her thoughts.

The ground began to shake inexplicably, and the demons that she didn't give the final blow began to wake up. It was time for her to fight again? She barely had caught a breath from the previous fight.

The small earthquakes began to get stronger and paced, like quick steps, giving her a chill down her spine. Flashes of Lightning also started to roar in the sky. That wasn't normal; it surely was some demonic thing.

Suddenly, around fifty meters high, a colossal creature falls down in the avenue corner, a few meters ahead of the alley she was.

The demons that woke up ignored her and ran away, but she heard them yelling, "IT'S THE GREAT SIN!", "THE SIN LIVES!"

So, that was the Sin they were talking about earlier? That boss-looking demon?

The colossal creature got up the faster it could. It was incredibly visually similar to the small demons. It had a wolf skull as a helmet, a skinny body with animal legs and human arms. The few differences were it had a black mist-like tail. The one coming from the head was also covering its torso, neck, and, probably, face ultimately.

A person comes jumping from where the demon came. It was that one that told Kyrie to run away. They were surrounded by electricity, and it went straight to the enormous beast, pointing the spear at its chest.

But the beast dodge rolled to the side, and the hunter carved the spear in the ground. But the electricity exploded and got the arms of the best.

The enormous creature howled in pain. An instant after, it tried to swing its claws towards the hunter, who easily avoided it by jumping away using an energy blast.

"Leave me be, you monster!" The creature shouted, not in demon language; it was in human language.

"Me?! The monster?! Look who's talking!" The hunter replied angrily but with a sassy tone under it.

The creature suddenly stopped; his eyes totally showed surprise, and it looked straight at Kyrie.

Witnessing that tremendous stare, Kyrie froze in a cold sweat; her hands got stiff in her staff.

"Dragon? The Dragon?!" The monster said low and surprised.

That was it. Kyrie was dead now. No way she could face that thing. Nero could, but not in the state he was. Her arms and legs got weak of so much scare, and she kneed in despair, but she could feel her inner magic starting to storm inside her like a defense response.

"Dante… Vergil…" she whispered in panic, tears forming in her eyes.

"Wait… THE dragon is here?" the hunter whispered astonishedly, looking at Kyrie too.

"Dante! Vergil! I need your help, please…" she yelled in her thoughts.

"Nero is gonna die… help! Please!" She closed her eyes and held on tight to the staff while the monster was getting up. It had its eyes on her.

Time stopped.

The only thing that she had in mind now was Dante and an assumption of how Vergil would be. They were twins, right? And they should be together in Hell by now.

"Kyrie?!" She heard Dante's voice in her head.

"Nero's girlfriend?" she heard another voice, an unfamiliar voice, but she assumed to be Vergil's.

She thought it was her imagination for a moment, but she could feel her magic inside her acting quite differently. The wish to have the twins there was provoking something on it.

"PLEASE! I need you two here! Nero is sick and can't fight! There's a huge demon looking for him!" she thought in an instant.

"How?! We are here, and you are there!" Dante said, worried.

"Can we trust this voice?" Vergil said quite distrustfully.

"Yes, man! I know this energy! It's definitely Kyrie!"

All that happened in a fraction of a second.

An inexplicable feeling dominated Kyrie that moment; her magic was acting differently like never before. A new instinct awakened in her. She assumed a fierce and intimidating expression.

She strongly hit the ground with her staff's end, carving on it, scaring the giant demon and the hunter.

She embraced that new feeling and let her magic follow it; she could feel it growing stronger inside her. Still, it wasn't out of control. All that seemed quite natural already.

She began to charge the staff at its limits. It looked like the metal plates from the gear would fly away. A large jolt of energy blew up out of it and formed the pink spectral wings.

The staff would be able to hold all the magic she was channeling. She made the terrible decision to conduct her magic by herself.

That was a deadly move.

Barely a second after summoning, the wings disappeared from the staff and quickly reappeared in her back, but this time double in size. Both of her eyes were glowing white, and the sclera turned black. The small white hair clump she had in her fringe hair quickly grew out to have more strands.

The demon began to step back, afraid of what was coming. But the hunter didn't move out of his place.

"DANTE! VERGIL! HEAR ME OUT! FOLLOW MY VOICE!" she shouted in her thoughts while she began to scream out loud due to the heavy magic channeling.

At the end of her wings, two large demonic magical circles formed an azure blue and a crimson red.

"Fuck! She's summoning something!" The hunter yelled.

"DANTE AND VERGIL! I SUMMON YOU!" she shouted with all her lungs' strength.

Vast flames from their respective circle's colors began to blast out from them, and human shapes started to form.

Dante then jumped out of the red circle, and Vergil jumped out of the blue one.

Kyrie's wings immediately dissipated, and the staff did an emergency stop. She had to kneel on the ground; she had never been so tired before. She had to take many deep breaths, she was sweating profusely, and she looked like her heart would jump out of her mouth.

"WE ARE BACK, BITCHES!" Dante shouted as soon as he stepped on the ground.

But Vergil quickly noticed a problem with them, which shocked him for a brief moment.

To be continued...

[spicycreativity]

Intertwined - Chapter 6

Chapter: 6/8

Additional Notes: Fic published in full on my AO3, WizardGlick. This is my favorite chapter 😁

Chapter Content Warnings: Blood, respiratory distress

The record player was still in the kitchen, surrounded by puzzle pieces. Patton switched it on and watched the vinyl spin in a daze. He missed Roman's boastful chatter, missed Logan's even keel. Maybe he should just give up. They clearly didn't want him around, and at a certain point, maybe it was selfish to keep badgering them.

God, he was a mess. Virgil had been too tactful to say anything during last night's Ghost Adventures marathon, but he had kicked his feet up in Patton's lap, and that was telling. It wasn't the reassuring full-body contact he longed for, but Virgil had never been big on touch. He couldn't be what Patton needed, and that was fair. It wasn't Virgil's job to take care of Patton. It was no one's job.

Janus' voice sounded unbidden in his head, reminding him in a distinctly annoyed tone, ' It's your job.'

So Patton picked himself up off the kitchen island and opened the fridge. He liked the work of cooking and cleaning. The domesticity was reassuring and sweet and safe. He cooked and cleaned because he loved. He loved Logan, he loved Roman, he loved Virgil. He wanted to see them safe and fed and contented, free to fulfill their functions because Patton fulfilled his.

As he cracked eggs into a bowl, he wondered if he loved Janus. He probably did. How could he help it?

Janus' smile was a rare thing, and that much sweeter for it. And he was so clever, so self-assured, so determined to help. This whole time, that was what was driving him. He wanted to help Thomas the only way he could, and now he was helping Patton. Because… Because he was just good. Even if he, like Virgil before him, kept that light hidden behind walls of sarcasm and bitterness. Janus was good. And Patton loved him.

He had forgotten to turn on the stove. Patton smiled at himself, because what else could he do, and turned on the stove. As he stood there, anxiously eyeing his half-finished omelette, his fingers found their way to the friendship bracelets around his right wrist. He had two there, Logan's and Roman's. They were both made of soft embroidery floss. Roman's had a little charm, a small silver 'R' that sometimes caught the light and made Patton smile when he noticed it.

He and Janus should have friendship bracelets. It could go on his left wrist next to Virgil's. Virgil wouldn't be happy about it, but… But Patton wanted it. He wanted Janus to feel accepted and loved. And there was no way to do that and spare Virgil's feelings. There was just no winning and Patton wanted, wanted, wanted more than he'd ever wanted anything.. Would it really be so bad to indulge this?

After breakfast, Patton relocated to the living room and asked the mindscape's halls for Janus. Janus did not appear, but the fog of the subconscious at the edges of the walls solidified into a hallway. Patton got to his feet and started to walk. He had never really ventured into the space that Roman referred to as 'the Dark Side,' but there was really nothing foreboding about it. The halls were still well-lit, the carpet still plush beneath his feet.

Eventually, the hall opened up to a cozy little alcove. Janus was huddled up against the wall, staring into the depths of a pure black coffee mug. He flinched when he noticed Patton, then smiled.

It was a slow, unfurling thing: first sheepish, then courteous, and finally, genuine. It lit a fire in Patton's chest, made him feel like he was glowing.

"Patton." Janus tipped his hat, peering out coquettishly from under its brim.

"Sorry," said Patton, "am I interrupting?"

"Oh, yes," said Janus, getting to his feet, "I need to have my coffee in utter silence of the caffeine doesn't take."

He sounded a little hoarse. Patton felt himself cross his arms and draw back to examine Janus, but couldn't stop it from happening. His scales looked the same as ever, more yellow than green under the light, but both eyes were glassy in a way that indicated lack of sleep. He looked tired, Patton decided, but not sick.

"Did I button my shirt wrong?" Janus asked, not actually looking down to check. He kept his eyes on Patton.

"Is there something on your mind?" Patton asked.

Janus countered this question with another question, which Patton supposed was fair: "Did you come down here just for that?"

"Well, actually…" Patton tugged at the tight, precise braid of Logan's friendship bracelet. Why was this so hard? "I thought we could-- If you wanted to--" His nerves were taking over and he was helpless to stop them, couldn't control the way his voice trembled. He started over. "So, no pressure, obviously, but I just thought it might be nice if we, you know, made friendship bracelets together." Patton held up his forearms so Janus could see. "If you want."

Tears were forming in Janus' human eye; his chest hitched with uneven breaths. Patton was already raising his arms to offer a hug when Janus turned away and started to cough. Oh.

The fit, though it sounded terrible, ended quickly. Janus straightened, drawing a yellow handkerchief back into his sleeve like a magician. "What," he said, pretending to look at his fingernails, "are the odds of you believing that was nothing?"

"It didn't sound like nothing," Patton said.

Janus sighed and leaned back against the wall, pressing his fingertips to his forehead. "Look, I didn't want to say anything, but I think that our dear benevolent prince might be a little angrier than he let on."

"You think Roman's doing this to you?" That didn't sound like him. He could be stubborn, sure, maybe even bull-headed, but it really wasn't like him to make someone sick. At least, not on purpose.

"It's not Remus," Janus said, crossing his arms. "There's nothing else wrong with me."

"It's just a cough?"

"Just a cough."

Patton tapped his fingers against his leg, thinking. "Roman's not really talking to me at the moment--"

"Typical," Janus muttered.

Not wanting to fight, Patton let this go. "But I'll see if I can… Well, I'll see what I can do."

Janus nodded, then seemed to remember something. His jaw worked for a second, his eyes darting everywhere except Patton's face. "Thank you."

Patton nodded, still inexplicably afraid. Now was his chance to leave, since Janus hadn't acknowledged his offer. If he sank out fast enough-- But what exactly was he running from? He wasn't Logic, but he couldn't deny that it made no sense to run from something he couldn't even identify. "So, um. Did you want to…?"

"Where?" Janus asked.

The trapdoor to the speakeasy opened beneath their feet. Patton's door appeared down the hall. He and Janus looked at each other in silence.

"The lighting might be a little better in my room," Patton said finally. He wasn't sure which of them had caused his door to appear. The subconscious was tricky like that sometimes.

"By all means," Janus said.

It was a little nerve-wracking to have Janus in his room. Patton wasn't quite sure why. Maybe the idea that Janus might not like it, and by extension, not like him. After all, Patton's room was as much an extension of himself and his function as his body was.

Janus stepped quietly over the threshold, holding himself still except for his eyes, which darted from object to object.

"Let me know if you start feeling all sentimental," Patton said, a thrill of nerves tingling his spine. "I don't have a lot of practice controlling my room." Janus probably didn't want to cry today, or ever. Not that he seemed like the type to get caught up in nostalgia. Like Logan, he was ruthless, cutting away what didn't serve him with the precision of a surgeon. Or so it seemed.

Janus nodded. Patton frowned. He'd been awfully quiet since Patron had extended the invitation. He almost seemed scared, which didn't make sense. They were safe in here. Too safe, if Patton let them be, sequestered in this hall of nostalgia's anesthetic haze.

"Are those California poppies?" Janus asked, striding forward to a dresser (the design of which had come from a memory of sleepovers at Thomas' grandmother's house).

"Where?" Patton asked, turning on his heel to look. It was difficult to move without tripping over the odd bin or crate of memorabilia. He found himself faced with a choice to either bend backwards to see around Janus or to stand right next to him. Far too close for propriety, they would be wedged right up against each other like the yearbooks on the far bookshelf.

Patton's heart started to race. Why? Why should he be nervous? He bent backwards, muscles aching in protest at the awkward pose, and peered around Janus' body. "I can't tell."

Janus turned, squinting at Patton's predicament, before looking down at the bins on the floor. He seemed to grasp the issue and extended a hand for Patton to take. "Come here."

Come here. Innocuous words, but the same ones he'd used to bring Patton into his arms that terrible night. Patton's heart fluttered.

He stepped over a stack of textbooks and entered Janus' space. Janus' capelet was soft and velvety against his bare arm; his sleeve a little rougher.

"Are they?" Janus asked.

The poppies were already wilting a little and Patton couldn't help but feel sad about that, even though they were imaginary. "Yes."

"How did you get them?"

"California," Patton said, the memory coming to him on a warm breeze that smelled of the outdoors. "Thomas sees them every time he gets to go."

Janus stifled a cough into the back of his hand, nodding all the while. "He wore them in his hair once."

Patton smiled, mind awash in golden light. Thomas and his friends were making a brief pit stop as they journeyed down I-5 and someone, it didn't even matter who, had spotted the blooms growing by the roadside. And they had all worn flowers in their hair for the rest of the day, bright faces made brighter by the addition of something so beautiful. "Do you like California poppies, Janus?"

"It's funny," Janus said, in a tone so devoid of sarcasm and teasing that Patton nearly did a double-take, "It never occurred to me to like them. But seeing them like this…"

He trailed off, coloring slightly, and Patton's breath caught in his throat. He understood perfectly, too perfectly, and it made him tremble.

It had never occurred to him to love Janus, until one day it did. But this-- Oh, no. Oh, no. Not like this. This couldn't be allowed. Janus glanced over at him and Patton felt his smile snap into place despite the newfound ache of wanting beneath his ribs.

"And here I thought you were going to keep me safe from your room," Janus teased.

"Oops!" Patton ran a hand through his hair. "Give me a second here; I can make a space." He thought for a moment before sitting them both down at a wooden picnic table. He imagined embroidery floss in every color, bins stacked with beads, scissors,  and two rolls of masking tape just to be safe.

"Summer camp," Janus said, smiling that crooked smile.

Despite his best efforts, Patton blushed. He tried not to hate himself for it because Janus wouldn't want that. But he also knew he was being far too selfish now, wanting Janus all for himself. There was a line and he had crossed it. "Do you remember what to do?"

Janus was already pawing through the embroidery thread. Loose strands clung to his gloves and Patton watched, intrigued, as Janus' mouth curled into that not-smile he sometimes wore when he was making fun. He withdrew his hands, trailing rainbow strings despite his efforts to shake them off, and glanced at Patton, startling a little when their eyes met.

Patton wasn't sure what to say. 'It's okay' felt hollow, less than a lie. Utterly meaningless. Janus' gloves meant something to him, something that went deeper than just aesthetics. Patton understood, in that moment, what it was all for: the gloves, the high collar, the hat, the sarcasm, the biting remarks, the exaggeration. All guarding Janus' heart. He must have been very afraid. Suddenly his irritation at Patton's inability to prioritize himself made perfect sense.

"I can help you," Patton said, not wanting Janus to feel pressured into taking off his gloves. "You can keep them on, just tell me what colors--"

"Don't be stupid," Janus snapped. "It's just clothing."

"Oh," said Patton. Heat flooded his face, impending tears burning in his eyes. Understanding didn't make it hurt less.

Janus didn't say anything, couldn't, because he was muffling those awful, barking coughs into his sleeve. They sounded so much worse than yesterday. Patton stared at a skein of auburn embroidery floss. He would have to find some way to get through to Roman.

"That was inappropriate," Janus said when he resurfaced. He was a little out of breath; his breath caused loose strings to flutter.

"I understand," Patton said.

"You do?"

Here, Patton hesitated. It seemed a little rude to read Janus, as Roman would say. He had obviously lashed out because he was scared of something.

Janus winced, pressed his lips together, shifted where he sat. "I'm sorry." He wouldn't look at Patton. "I shouldn't have said that."

"We can do this another time," Patton said, "if you're not ready. I just wanted…" It seemed stupid to say it out loud now, stupid and manipulative. "I wanted you to feel accepted."

Janus tugged his gloves off without fanfare, folded them neatly, and set them down on the table. His left hand was scaled, which Patton supposed he should have anticipated. "Don't look," Janus said. Patton frowned, trying to parse this, and Janus elaborated, "I want it to be a surprise."

"Oh!" Patton said, relief flooding his chest like morning sunlight through an eastward-facing window. "Okay." He stared at the embroidery thread, thinking. He had never been all that good at color theory, but… Maybe he could do a dark green for Janus's scales, and gold because they shimmered. To represent himself, he would of course use blue thread. And for the two of them, gray. But what shade of green…? Patton picked up a skein of army green floss, then kelly green, then moss green. "Janus?"

"Hm?"

"I need to look at you."

"Oh, Patton, I'm flattered, but need?"

"Can you just give me your hand for a second?" Patton asked, blushing.

"Which one?" Janus asked archly.

"The left one."

"...What for?"

Patton, still not looking at Janus, held up the three skeins of embroidery floss. "I need to color match."

Janus let out a huff of air through his nose. "I'm much prettier than that."

Then an idea struck. "Ooh, I know what to do! I still need your hand, though."

"Alright, alright." Janus leaned over, extending his hand to Patton. He flinched a little when Patton held it in his own, but did not pull away.

"Hmm," said Patton, examining the scales and the way they reflected back the light. It took a bit of thinking, but he managed to imagine a skein of thread in the same glossy green-gold color.

Then Janus stiffened and started to cough again, his hand curling around Patton's fingers until his nails dug painfully into Patton's skin. The fit was low and ragged and rough, left Janus teary eyed and gasping.

"You're sure this is Roman?" Patton asked, dimly aware that he was still holding Janus' hand.

"Forget it," Janus said, his voice like tattered silk. "You said you'd talk to him."

"I'll go right now if you want me to."

Janus shook his head. "Are you done with my hand? If not, I have a few to spare."

"Oh!" said Patton. "Yes. Sorry." He let go of Janus's hand, knuckles aching where Janus' nails had dug in. Janus' cough must have hurt far more than he was letting on.

Right. Compartmentalize. Friendship bracelets.

Patton picked his colors, eyeballed the thread length, cut them down, and taped the ends to the table. He decided on a simple striped pattern, flat, so it could slide easily under Janus's sleeve or the cuffs of his gloves.

"So you and Remus?" Patton said after he had fallen into a rhythm and didn't need to focus quite so hard.

"We're friends, yes."

"But you said--" Patton cut himself off, embarrassed. He certainly didn't want to be reminded of that awful night, and Janus probably didn't either.

"I know."

Patton was pulling too hard. He set his threads down and added another piece of tape. "I don't get it."

Janus sighed. "I'd rather not talk behind his back, but I will say this: He was on his worst behavior when he introduced himself."

Patton considered this but couldn't think of anything to say other than 'thank God.' That seemed rude, so he just kept his mouth shut. The silence that ensued felt equally as rude, and words slipped out of Patton's mouth before he could stop himself, "Do you love him?"

Janus didn't answer. Patton was tempted to look at him, to try to read his expression, but didn't want to risk ruining the surprise. Finally, Janus sighed and Patton heard the gentle rustle of his clothing as he shifted in his seat. "Defensive sarcastic quip."

Patton dropped his threads again so he could muffle a laugh behind his hands. "Sorry, was that too personal?"

"No, no, I love talking about myself. Maybe next you can ask me about my deepest fears."

"I didn't mean to be pushy," Patton said. It was hard not to be; he was so full of love love love he just wanted to give it away like Tupperwares full of snickerdoodles, like wildflower bouquets. He wanted Janus, wanted his whole fam-ILY to know and feel it as deeply as he felt it.

And Janus especially, Patton wanted to tell him with his lips, with his hands, with his tongue. His whole body radiating love.

But just because he wanted didn't mean he could have. He ached with a selfish desire to be held again, safe in Janus' arms. But even Patton was smart enough to understand that that moment was over and done with. They had shared it, and now it was another snapshot for the shoebox Patton kept in his closet. His own memories, separate from Thomas. A testament to his personhood.

They worked in silence after that, until Patton's wandering thoughts came to rest, inevitably, on the trouble at hand. "Hey, Janus?"

"Yes?"

"What do you think we should do now? Thomas can't keep going like this for much longer, I don't think. He hasn't done anything. And I-- I'm not saying-- I'm not trying to say it's, you know, immoral to rest, but this doesn't seem healthy." And also, it did chafe Patton a little, to see Thomas being so lazy, but he could keep that to himself.

"The sooner Logan and Roman get over themselves, the better," Janus said.

"I haven't checked on them yet today." Patton heaved a sigh and tried to focus on his pattern. He had the matte gray hooked around his finger at the moment, his own deliberate reminder to compromise.

"They haven't checked on you at all."

"So, what, then?" Patton asked, struggling not to look up. "I should get mad and ignore them right back?"

"That's what I would do," Janus said. "And you did ask. But…" A long-ish pause. "As we both know, I'm always right."

Oh. Patton closed his eyes, trying not to fold over and bury his forehead in the rough wood of the picnic table. He'd never wanted to see the worst in Janus, but he'd been bracing for it all the same. And every time he held his breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop, it never happened.

That didn't mean they were never going to fight. Patton knew he was naive, but he wasn't that naive. But he had been bracing for something so much worse than this.

It was for Thomas. He had to remind himself. Janus had even said so, down in the parlor. It was all for Thomas. And Patton was sure, when it came time to make the next big decision, they would be at odds again.

But maybe… Maybe it didn't have to be so hostile. Couldn't they disagree without being enemies?

"You are always right, Janus," Janus said in Patton's voice. "And you're so handsome, and smart, too."

It was equal parts creepy and amusing, but Patton appreciated what Janus was trying to do, so he smiled. "I mean, you are smart. And h--" The word caught in his throat. They did all look very similar, though the subtle nature of the subconscious altered their appearances somewhat. It sharpened up Janus' features some, took away several inches of height, made his eyes dark and flashing. "And handsome," Patton finished weakly.

"You already said that," Janus said, voice dripping with faux-innocence.

"You're sweet, is what you are," Patton teased back.

"Finished," said Janus.

Patton blinked, thrown off, before he realized what Janus meant. "I'm almost done. Give me juuuust a second." He finished the bracelet with a practiced hand. "Can I look now?"

"Give me your hand. Then you can look."

Patton extended his left hand and finally looked over at Janus for the first time since they had started. The bright colors of the bracelet caught his eye immediately; it was an intricate weave of only two colors: bright yellow and true blue. Janus fingers were deft and gentle around Patton's wrist. He made no remarks about the purple and black bracelet already tied on.

"Oh, Janus, it's perfect!" Patton said. Hot tears welled up in his eyes. He let them fall, unashamed. It was nice to cry happy tears for once. "Your turn."

Janus pushed up his sleeve, tilting his head at Patton's bracelet. "What does it mean?"

"The green is for your scales," Patton explained, positioning the bracelet around Janus' right wrist. "The blue is for me. And the gray is.." He paused, suddenly embarrassed. "Well, it's a reminder."

One of the ends brushed against Janus' forearm and he twitched, nearly pulling out of Patton's grasp. "That tickled," he explained.

"You're ticklish?"

"No," Janus said, far too quickly for it to be the truth.

Patton smiled at him, though he knew they were a long way off from friendly touches. It struck him then just how badly he wanted that future. He wanted cuddle sessions with Janus on the couch, just the two of them. He wanted stolen kisses in the kitchen and tickle fights in bed. He wanted Janus, body and soul, consequences be damned. "Noted," Patton said. "Janus: totally not ticklish, even a little bit."

"Gospel truth," Janus said.

Patton finished tying on the bracelet and sat back. "Well…" He didn't want to leave his room, which was a sure sign it was time to go. "I'd better go check on my kiddos."

To his surprise, Janus didn't scowl or nag. He tugged his gloves back on, carefully sliding the bracelet inside the cuff. "What do you say to them?"

"Just that I'm here," Patton said. "And I love them.

"You know, Patton--" Janus got up and held the door open, breaking the spell of Patton's room somewhat-- "sometimes I think you're too good for the likes of us."

And then he was gone, sinking out before Patton could ask him what he meant by that.

Patton went first to Logan's room. Logan had maintained his silence after the meeting, not even answering to tell Patton to go away. The only hint Patton had that he was still in there was that Thomas hadn't gone completely off the rails.

"Hey, Logan." Patton knocked gently. "I'll go away soon, because I know you don't want me to bother you. I just wanted to say… Well, I'm not sure what you need right now, but I know this isn't it. So whenever you're ready to come out, I'll be here." It was so hard not to spill his guts to that plain white door. Almost like a confessional, only that Logan stubbornly refused to tell him what he had to do to earn forgiveness. "I'll go now. Come get me if you need anything, okay? I love you and I miss you." He waited a few seconds for any signs of movement within, but there was nothing.

Down the hall to Roman's room then.

The sight of Virgil seated on the floor with his back pressed up against Roman's cherrywood door made Patton pause, breaths stuttering in his chest.

He kept his distance, but Virgil had startled at the sound of his steps on the carpet.

Patton flashed him a thumbs up and cocked his head.

Virgil nodded.

Patton sank out. What else could he do? If Roman would rather talk to Virgil than to him, well… Patton couldn't blame him.

He sat down heavily at the kitchen island, staring down at the half-finished puzzle. Tears blurred his eyes and he took off his glasses as they started to fall. He was so, so sick of crying. He did it all the time. Every strong emotion moved him to tears.

He wanted to crawl back to Janus' room, relive that tender night. Just once, he wanted someone else to pick him up off the ground. He was thoroughly sick of being his own hero.

He had mostly gotten himself under control by the time Virgil popped up by the fridge. It was only his breathing that still troubled him, heavy and painful in his chest.

"Hey, Virge."

"Since when do you call me that?" Virgil asked, opening the fridge.

It was reflex more than anything that forced Patton to his feet. "I can make you something."

"You don't have to," Virgil mumbled, cheeks going scarlet under his foundation.

"I want to," Patton said. That much was still true, at least. "What are you in the mood for?"

"Uh, I was just gonna make a sandwich," Virgil said.

"BLT?"

"Sure."

Patton nodded, clenching his left hand into a fist by his side. Virgil was incredibly observant; he was bound to notice Janus' friendship bracelet. Patton wasn't sure whether to let him or to bring it up.

Virgil saved him from having to decide. "Where have you been all morning?" Patton wordlessly held up his arm, feeling for all the world like a guilty child. Sure enough, Virgil's eyes narrowed. But to Patton's surprise, no lecture followed. "Janus made that?"

"Mm-hm." Patton nodded. "I made him one, too."

"Is he wearing it?" Virgil asked, looking dumbfounded.

"Yeah," Patton said, a little emboldened now that he knew Virgil wasn't angry. "Tied it on myself."

"He let you do that? Janus?" Virgil ran both hands through his hair, looking at Patton like he'd just expressed a desire to go cliff diving while blindfolded.

"I mean, I didn't have to tie him down."

Virgil sighed through his nose and wandered to the kitchen island with a lost expression. "That's weird."

Patton opened up the fridge. "Are you okay?" he said to the condiments rack, not wanting to make Virgil uncomfortable with too much eye contact.

"Watch him," Virgil said. "Watch him like a hawk… A hawk with binoculars."

"Aww!" said Patton, picturing it. "Oh! How's Roman?"

"Conflicted," Virgil said. "I told him you've been hanging out with Janus."

Patton bit his tongue and pulled a head of lettuce out of the crisper drawer. It wasn't wrong to spend time with Janus. He loved Janus. Love was never wrong. "How'd he take it?"

"Nnnot that bad?" Virgil said. "I think it helps that Thomas hasn't gone full, y'know, Squip."

"You know I wouldn't let that happen," Patton said. He moved over to the counter and paused to take a few deep breaths. His chest hurt a little. Probably just from crying too much. But that reminded him of Janus and that worrisome, mysterious cough. "By the way, does Roman seem… in control?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you know, he accidentally made it super cold for a little bit."

"Oh," said Virgil, "yeah. He apologized for that. He's okay now."

Patton nodded, trying not to let his worry show on his face. But it crept into the corners of his mind and kept him silent as he made two BLTs. If Janus was sure it wasn't Remus and Virgil was sure it wasn't Roman… Who else could it be? Or what else?

No answers sprang into Patton's mind. He bit his lip and stabbed one fancy toothpick each through sandwiches. He slid one plate over to Virgil, mindful not to upset any stray puzzle pieces, then rounded the kitchen island to sit next to Virgil.

"You…" he started, and paused to catch his breath. "You're not mad, are you?"

"I mean, I don't love that you're hanging out with Janus. I wish you wouldn't. I wish he'd leave us all alone and go back to slinking around in the shadows like the snake he is." Virgil turned his head to look at the new friendship bracelet on Patton's arm. "But you're your own Side. It would be wrong for me to try to control you. I just really hope he doesn't hurt you, Patton."

"So you're not mad?"

"No, pop star, I'm not mad. Just worried about you."

"Thanks, kiddo."

--

It seemed that these days, the mindscape was just made up of one crisis after another. After spending a pleasant day with Virgil, albeit with his breaths dragging in and out of his body like the air was too thick to breathe, the next morning found Patton doubled over in a fit of coughing so intense it knocked his glasses off. He ducked right back into his room, kicking his glasses in before him, and spat out a mouthful of heart-shaped flowers onto the floor.

Hm. Uh-oh. He wasn't an expert on biology, but he was fairly sure that wasn't supposed to happen.

The blooms were pretty, though, bright magenta hearts with little white tails. Bleeding hearts, they were called.

Patton frowned. Hadn't Janus said… Yes. 'I want you to protect that bleeding heart of yours.' How ironic. Maybe. Patton could never seem to use 'irony,' right, something Logan was always quick to point out.

He coughed again, but no flowers came up this time. That was good, probably. Coughing was bad, coughing up blood was worse. Surely coughing up flowers had to be somewhere in the middle.

He stood up straight again and banished the flowers into nothingness. Was it coincidence that Janus had a cough? Was it contagious? He hadn't said anything about flowers, though.

Patton sank out, grabbing his glasses on the way. If he was coughing, then he was probably sick. He knew how to handle that.

Since Virgil rarely spent time in the living room, Patton could hole up there with tea and toast and Adventure Time on the TV. Just until he was better, and then it would be right back to trying to fix things. He wondered if Janus would be proud or whether he would just push for Patton to rest more. Maybe both.

Virgil made an appearance a few hours later, about the time that Patton felt his patience running thin. The cough wasn't getting better, but he had no full-body fatigue to make the cartoon marathon bearable. Sitting still for too long made him antsy.

"Roman invited me in," Virgil called from the kitchen, dashing any hopes Patton had for conversation. "I just wanted to let y-- What are you doing?"

"I think I'm getting sick," Patton explained, wincing as the words seemed to claw their way out of his torn-up throat.

"Are you okay?"

Patton nodded. Aside from the cough, he really did feel fine. Maybe this would pass quickly. "Tell Roman I said hi."

"Will do." Virgil gave one last, lingering look before he sank out.

This left Patton alone with the ache in his chest and the vast loneliness threatening to swallow him whole. He tried not to think too much about Janus, lest he inadvertently summon him again, but it was so hard now. He didn't ever want to be apart from Janus. It was such a pure and simple yearning that Patton couldn't even feel guilty for it (though he did feel an echo of guilt that he didn't feel guilty). But it was a desire born of love, and how could that be bad?

The only bad thing about it was that Janus didn't love him back. Of course he didn't. How could he? All he ever did was run around babysitting Patton through crying spells, desperately trying to get him to pull himself together. There was nothing remotely attractive about that. In fact, with Janus, it seemed that all Patton did was take, take, take. He was guilty of the exact behavior that had him so wrung-out and desperate in the first place. How embarrassing.

Patton coughed into the crook of his arm, catching flowers and leaves in his mouth and banishing them without looking. He'd been sick before, they all had, but never like this. He almost wished for fatigue or a headache, something to make resting a little more bearable. Right now, he just felt lazy.

A bottle of NyQuil appeared on the couch next to him, nestled up against an embroidered throw pillow. Patton looked at it. He could already hear Logan lecturing him about the dangers of misusing medication, but… Patton was sick. And he was imaginary. And Thomas probably knew better than to chug NyQuil at the first sign of illness.

It would be fine. Patton poured out a dose and drank it down with his nose plugged in the hopes of masking the alcohol-tinged artificial sweetness. He still shuddered at the syrupy sensation on his tongue. Then he sank out, changed into his pajamas, and buried himself under his covers to slip into a coma.

[artsyxloner]

Not Just a Monster

Warning: lots of blood, Violence, gore, voices

1: Monster Troubles

Min Soo-Nico P.O.V

Standing in front of the shattered glass mirror I held on to both ends of the bathroom sink. As my nose was gushing blood staining my face it getting all in my lips.

I didn't dare look up at my reflection to be scared of what I would see. I could hear its voice inside my head, I wanted it out" Come on Soo-Nico, this isn't so bad just let go." The monster told me, as I heard its low chuckle.

It sent a cold chill down my spine.

" No, leave me the hell alone!"  I shouted out loud, not caring because there was no one here or anywhere as a matter of fact.

" Why there all gone, it was your fault after all wasn't it Soo-Nico?"  It spoke again to me reminding me of what I accidentally did.

" It wasn't my fault I didn't mean it!" I cried out, as tears fell making my cheeks feel moist.

" That's not what they thought!"  I then heard a 'tsk tsk' noise like it was scolding me. " you can forget all about them so you don't have to suffer. Anymore let me in."

I felt my chest puff out as my breathing became unsteady. " What do you know about family? You have none your just a hallucination!" I spit gritting my teeth.

" Maybe but I'll be real soon, the desire is too tempting to resist."  Those were the monster's last words that were imprinted in my mind.

"The desire was too tempting to resist."

I have to keep it in I have to stay in control I told myself sighing, Finally able to see my reflection all that was left was blood.

Turning on the water, I splashed my face rubbing it all off, spitting it all out leaving nothing. If only they were here maybe this wouldn't be so bad to endure?

I vividly remember their faces contoured in pain as they screamed. I watched them die, a gruesome death but I just stood there in a daze not doing anything.

Swallowing back my tears and a loud sob that wanted to escape my lips I walked out of the bathroom stepping into the lobby before it could happen.

I was going to turn into one of those things sometime soon an ugly creature that roamed the earth. I'm trying to stay in control for as long as I can but I don't know why?

Maybe it's because I'm wishing so hard to survive this and continue to remember them. They don't deserve to be forgotten for my mistake.

I made my way to the elevator pressing the button that said open. Before Stepping in I took out my weapon from my belt raising it high in the air ready for an attack.

The metal doors open revealing nothing. I let out a sigh of relief lowering my weapon, walking in I hit the top floor button.  I was going to go to the roof to scout out the area from above.

I needed to make a run since I'm low on supplies. And I wasn't going to sneak into any rooms in this building to find anything because I wasn't going to risk it being killed.

They're mostly empty anyway because it's a low-rated motel building.  I watch the numbers on the top corner of the doors count up to the top as it reached the 15th floor which was the roof.

Holding my weapon up again, I knew this wouldn't kill the monsters but it would distract them long enough for me to get away. That's the thing I hate about these things they don't die no matter how many times I slice, stab, or shoot nothing works.

At least that I know of? But I try to stay clear and never let them see me. Because if they did its game over. This isn't a disease it's a curse that we humans plagued on ourselves it's kinda like the seven deadly sins if you ask me.

The doors finally opened as I felt the rush of hot air hit my cheeks. I sucked in a breath being still because there's no telling what will be up here even though I've been up hearing a couple of times these monsters can come in any form, shape, or size so I had to be ready.

I walked out searching my surroundings trying to find anything out of the ordinary. Finding nothing, I relaxed going over to the edge, and sat down but not so far where I can fall off.

Putting my knife in my belt sheath, I grabbed my pair of binoculars and my field Journal along with my pencil. I had sketched out all the monsters I had seen and wrote down their strengths and weaknesses.

Most importantly where they stay at so I make sure not to go there or cross paths with them on my runs. This is why I mostly go at night so they won't see me. 

Flipping through the pages the images of the drawing Disturbed me a little. Even so, I was impressed with how detailed they turned out.

If shit didn't hit the fan I could have went to college to be an Art Major? Well, I guess that dream is over so I'm going to have to use it for this for now.

I frowned peering over the city with my binoculars in hand seeing the creatures climb the different buildings, some jumping on cars ripping the doors from the hinges dragging human belongings out.

One had a body of a human with a long extendable neck that had a huge eyeball attached to the top of it. The eyeball was appearing in front of windows staring inside them. That was the green roof apartment building. I started to sketch it out it being new to my notebook.

I figure the only way it could harm you is if it's a long body wrapped around you like a python and crush you to death if provoked. I wrote it down as it could be the only form of attack other than the human body it inhabited but not so much.

That was my routine going to sleep, eating, keeping hidden from monsters, trying to contain myself from turning into one of them, coming up here and looking over the city, and doing some new pages in my Field Guide.

My routine didn't change, and that's how I liked it. But I knew it wouldn't last for long so I prepared myself for the worst or at least trying to.

After a while of looking out at the city, it was time I had to go out on my run. Seeing I ate my last pack of kimchi noodles a day ago and my stomach was growling in hunger.

Getting up I had stuffed all my belongings in my bag hurrying to the elevator but stopped seeing what was in front of me. Its back was facing me thank God but I knew which monster it was.

It was the one that was tall with a slim figure that had its lower jaw and throat open up down to its chest. With a long like tongue that moved in different directions detecting ways to find its victim the suction cup on the end of it opened and closed.

Leaving a trail of its saliva and blood but I was pretty sure it could have been someones else's. Slowly getting on my hands and knees trying not to make a sound I took out my knife and crawled my way over to one of the air units and hide behind it.

Holding my weapon close to my chest I felt my heart in the pit of my stomach. Fear consumed me I hope and prayed that it didn't look or get a glimpse of me.

Just as my mind thought I was good its tongue shot out through the metal-air unit.  Making me scream, I jumped out of the way with no choice but to go. It knew I was here.

Going back on my hands and knees I scrambled to get away but then felt its slimy tongue-like thing wrap around my legs dragging me away towards it.

I shook my head I wasn't going to end like this. I searched for my knife I had dropped on the ground, I tried to grab it having my fingers so close to the tip of the blade.

But it was no use when I had gotten jerked up. My body swaying from side to side. I felt like I was going to puke but nothing would come up except water.

I knew my face was turning red I felt all of my blood rush to my head. As The Monster Tounge slammed me down. Hearing my bones crunched as it made contact with the concrete.

I sucked in a breath, not able to scream. My vision began to blur this was how I was going to die I thought feeling being lifted back up and slammed down again.

This time it released my legs, I laid there not able to cry because I couldn't feel any pain at all. Maybe it was because of my adrenaline pumping?

I slowly opened my eyes seeing the monster walk towards me. I turned my head not wanting to look by the time it gets here. I hope I am gone so I don't have to watch it stab me and suck all my insides up.

I cringed at the thought, this has to be one of the worst ways to die. I would still be awake feeling it. I had to do something I just couldn't lay here?

But then I saw something that gave me a sliver of hope. I had an idea it was a stupid idea but if nothing else could kill this monster then I'm perfectly sure this will do the job!

•••

I don’t own the characters, story line or plot all the credits goes to the creators of this masterpiece Sweey home. Carnby Kim/ Youngchan Hwang