#tryin' something different with nico's eyes

[reallyhardydraws]

my spooky gang 🧛‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧟‍♂️🐺

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[mimi-ya]

indifferent ~ trafalgar law x reader

1,300 words | no pronouns

summary: law totally doesn't care that you don't like him a/n: for my sweet anon out there! i hope this can brighten your day!

masterlist

When you’ve been a pirate as long as Trafalgar Law has, you learn not to take things personally.

It was essentially a job. Different than most, but a job none the less. There were duties and responsibilities, crewmates or coworkers depending how you look at it.

It was only natural coworkers didn’t get along.

Law drums his fingers on the table, chin resting in his hand.

How long had it been since he was in the familiar submarine? Only a few months, but it felt like a lifetime to be separated from his crew.

Who was he kidding? Being a pirate wasn’t a job, it was a way of life. His entire life. His crew were the people he cared about most and being without them was hell.

So why is that one of his crew seemed to want to be anywhere but with them? With him more specifically.

“Oh!” Your gasp startles Law from his thoughts, not that he gives anything away with the easy slide of his eyes to meet yours, “I didn’t realize anyone was here.” You glance off to the side, fingers curling tightly around the book in your hands.

Law nods at your hands, “Taking an interest in medicine, (y/n)-ya?”

“I started reading them while you were gone.” You place the book on the edge of the table, “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Trying to put me out of work?”

Your eyes go wide, hands already waving, “Of course not! I wouldn’t, couldn’t-” You snap your mouth shut, huffing in frustration, before quietly adding, “A little out of my league if I’m being honest.”

“Then why read it?”

Your mouth opens and closes before you give a small shrug instead, eyes quickly darting to the side of the room.

And Law takes that as his cue. Pushing himself from the desk, he rises to his feet, and you quickly scurry out of the way.

Law pauses at the door, wanting to say something, anything. But when he looks back, you’re already hunched over the book, hand clenched in a tight fist on the table.

Does his presence irk you that much? Is he so unbearable that a few minutes of conversation is like pulling teeth? Well, he won’t put you through any more than necessary.

He figures it’s always been like this. Never speaking to him directly, always sitting furthest away from him as possible. Law is sure you wouldn’t even be on the sub if it weren’t for you devotion to your previous captain.

So why now does he care?

With a frustrated sigh Law continues down the hall. Might as well check on the Strawhats who have temporarily joined for the journey to Wano.

Law rubs his neck, already feeling a knot forming at the idea of interacting with the rowdy crew. There was a reason he was seeking solace in the small library before you came in.

Shit, Law remembers, he had gone there in search of a book for Nico-ya in the first place.

Turning on his heel, Law heads back, not looking forward to the icy interaction he’ll probably get from you.

“You’re such an ass!”

Law stops in just outside the door when he hears the hiss of your voice.

A deep laugh echoes off the submarine’s metal walls, “Not like ya talked to him anyway!” The teasing lit of Jean Bart’s voice is something Law isn’t familiar with.

“You were spying on me?”

“Course I was! I pushed ya into that damn room, ya think I wasn’t gonna stick around?”

“I’m thinking I shouldn’t have been the one to stick around!”

“Ahh, c’mon on now! I’m just tryin’ to help.”

“Well, you’re not. And it’s not funny!”

Jean Bart’s laughter sounds again, “It’s kinda funny. I mean look at ya! You’re reading his textbooks like they’re some love note!”

“Shut up!” Your voice shouts, followed by a thud that Law can only assume is a book smacking Jean Bart in the face if his groan is anything to go by. “It’s embarrassing.” Law almost misses your words with how soft you’ve spoken them.

 A beat of silence, “It’s been two years and you can barely be in the same room, what’s it gonna take?”

The frustrated cry makes Law jump, not expecting such a reaction from you, “I don’t know! It’s just, every time I’m near him my heart starts beating so fast and I’m worried I’m going to say something stupid!”

Law inches closer to the door, desperate to know who you’re talking about.

“I don’t remember you bein’ like this when I first met ya.”

“Well, I didn’t think you were cute.” A smile sneaks onto Law’s face at your snarky comeback.

“Harsh.”

If he could just get a peak in, and shit.

Jean Bart catches the corner of Law’s signature hat before he could move out of the way quick enough. A devilish smile crosses on the man’s face.

“Well what else do you think is so great about the captain? Might help ya figure out how to talk to him.”

A pitiful whine leaves your mouth, pulling your head up from crook of your elbow, “I don’t know, everything?” You drop your cheek into you hand, “I mean, he saved you when he didn’t have to, and he’s a lot sweeter than he lets on.”

Jean Bart smirks. The faint sound of his captain’s devil fruit hasn’t sounded yet, so he must still be hanging around in the hall, “And here I thought it was just skin deep.”

“C’mon Jean.” There’s an unimpressed look on your face, “You have eyes, use ‘em and see what a fucking meal the captain is.”

Jean Bart lets out a hearty laugh, both at the crudeness of your words but to also cover up the choking coming from the hall. “Well, we have another week before we reach Wano.” Jean Bart stands from his seat, “Maybe use the time to fess up before things get a little crazy.” He pats you on the shoulder, leaving you to enjoy the medical textbook he can’t imagine is any bit interesting.

When Jean Bart gets into the hallway, he isn’t surprised to find a singular screw where he’s sure captain had been standing.

.

Dinner on the Polar Tang has turned into quite the affair with the additional members. You would think a few extra mouths to feed wouldn’t be too much to handle but there is something wild about these Strawhats.

How Law put up with them you’ll never know.

“(Y/N)-ya.”

Your heart skips a beat at the sound of his voice calling your name. It had to be a mistake, there’s no way the captain would be singling you out- but he is.

He’s looking right at you.

“I saved you a seat.” Law nods to the open spot next to him.

“Oh.” Your feet are stuck to the floor. All you have to do is walk over there and sit down and then what?

“Move it or lose it.” Jean Bart hip checks you as he moves past you.

“Hey!” You cry, but Jean Bart is already seated down the table laughing with Penguin. Turning back, you see Law is still staring at you with unreadable eyes, so you quickly take the spot before you cause even more of a scene, “Uhm, thank you.”

“Are you still reading the books?” He asks.

You blink, “What?”

“The medical books.” Law clarifies.

“Oh!” A nervous laugh bubbles in your throat, “Yeah, did you- did you want them back or something?”

“No.” Law takes a swig from his drink, as if to steel his own nerves, “We could read them together.” He glances at your stunned face, “If you want, that is.”

“I do want!” The outburst gets a few looks, and you almost clap a hand over your mouth, “I mean, yeah, okay.”

A soft smile pulls on Law’s lips, “Okay.”

“Okay.” You repeat, a just as nervous smile of your own.

And down the table Jean Bart has a smile, and it’s extremely smug.

[matthewtkachuk]

you can hear it in the silence - ryan graves

Four times you think Ryan might love you, and one time you know he does

pairing: ryan graves x reader

warnings: mentions of alcohol, a little angst if you squint, slight reference to cheesy romance novels - don't come for me for referring to romeo & juliet ok

word count: 2.5k

a/n: sorry this is a little bit late - i went to toronto, got covid, and then moved right at the end of the month and i'm a poor planner 3 @gravestrain i hope you love this!!! thank you as always to @antoineroussel for not only hosting this thing and letting me borrow stef whilst giving her an americanized name and the happy ending she deserves but also doing her damnedest to fix my grammar issues (you will have to pry my run on sentences and epithets out of my cold dead hands). special shout out to @danglesnipecelly for helping me pick a name for this bad boy and to @ryngrvs and @hotanddistraught for tryin' to help me put it into words. title and inspo is of course from the cult classic "you are in love" by taylor swift

one: one look, dark room / meant just for you 

Ryan’s a friend. 

The first one you made upon your arrival in Jersey to be precise, and one who very quickly became your favorite of them all. Nico’s got good eyebrows and Jack has a sly smile and PK is always down for anything and Nate and Mikey are clearly in love—but Ryan’s easily your favorite. It’s a world you’d never belonged in before and yet one that you slip into without much difficulty. 

It starts with an invitation to sit with Nico’s girlfriend at the season opener and turns into a standing date that you only miss if you absolutely have to. The girls are fun, Steph most of all, but the other girlfriends and wives welcome you into the fray even though you hold neither title. You make it three games before Jack’s daring you to wear his jersey. Steph thinks it’s funny and Nico looks at you like he might know something you don’t, but then Ryan’s offering you his instead and you’d be lying if your traitorous heart didn’t wonder if it meant something more than friends.

You wonder that a lot, actually. 

Wonder if it’s just Ryan’s polite, Canadian nature that has him holding doors open for you and asking that you text him when you get home safe after a night out; wonder if it’s just something Ryan does, the way he memorizes your Starbucks order and knows your favorite ice cream and the exact right toppings to put on pizza; wonder if Ryan exchanges looks with anyone else—all raised eyebrows and laugh lines and upturned mouths.

The looks are secret, special. A million different words and thoughts and communications pass in a single glance meant only for you. When Jack’s being an idiot, when Steph and Nico are too cute, when you miss your drink with your mouth and end up with a barely noticeable stain on your shirt. They say things like: “are you overwhelmed? Do you want to leave?”, “are you feeling alright?”, “when was the last time you ate?”

Tonight the look is shared from across Nico and Steph’s living room. You’re being cornered by a guy who introduced himself as “The Devils Captain’s Future Cousin-In-Law” and who hasn’t shut up about the ACL injury that “kept him from going pro, but he totally could have.” You’re not entirely sure that cousin-in-law is a legal distinction, and you’ve met plenty of might-have-been pros trying to keep up with actual professional athletes, and so nothing leaving his lips is of any particular value or interest to you.

Scanning the crowd, you look for any reason or excuse to vacate the conversation, trying and failing to catch someone’s eye until Ryan looks up. He reads the distress call and rises to the occasion valiantly, all but pushing Steph’s cousin to the side in his over the top greeting to you. 

The aforementioned not-quite-major-leaguer grumbles, but quickly realizes he’s no match for the large defenceman, disappearing back into the crowd to probably find someone else to bother. 

“Thank you,” you breathe out a sigh of relief. 

“Anything for you,” is all he says before dragging you to the kitchen to make you another drink because you ‘definitely deserve one.’

“Steph, your cousin is fucking annoying,” you tell her later that night.

You fear it’s the wrong thing to say, are prepared to backtrack immediately at her shocked, silent face, but then she’s laughing. “Yeah, I know. I was going to go save you, but someone else beat me to it.” She motions toward where Ryan is standing across the dark room. You hiss and grip her wrist to get her to stop pointing, but there’s no use—half the team has looked over at your little commotion. It doesn’t matter anyway, though. 

Ryan’s eyes are only on you.

two: small talk, he drives / coffee at midnight

you: you up?

ryan: Is this a booty call?

you: *eyeroll emoji*

you: no, idiot. I can’t sleep 

ryan: Wanna go for a drive?

Fifteen minutes later you’re slipping into Ryan’s car in your favorite pajamas and an old hoodie. 

“Cute,” he chuckles, tugging on your flannel bottoms before you slap his hand away. 

“You’re one to talk,” you counter, lunging across the console to ruffle his messy hair he’s pulled back with a familiar looking scrunchie. “Is that my hair tie?” 

Ryan pauses mid laugh like he’s been caught red handed in a bank vault with a ski mask. A light blush coats his cheek and he reaches back as if to pull his hair done. “Uh, yeah. Did you want it back?”

A warm feeling fills your belly as you sit back in your seat, shaking your head. “Nah, keep it.”

He flashes that awkward grin at you and motions for you to put on your seatbelt before he puts the car into drive. He takes several twists and turns that you don’t recognize in the midnight darkness, each street sign and traffic light blurring into the next. 

“So where are we going?” You ask a few minutes later, fiddling nervously with the radio station, never letting a song play in its entirety as you search for something you don’t even know you’re searching for.

“I know a place.”

‘A place’ turns out to be a Dunkin’ Donuts beside a McDonalds and you laugh out loud when he turns into the first drive through. 

“You don’t like it?” he asks.

“I love it!”

He doesn’t even need to ask your order at either place and he certainly doesn’t take your offered wallet, just smiles at you and tells you that you can get it ‘next time.’

“Thank you for a lovely evening,” you tell him in a semi-sarcastic, overly-polite tone to mask the fact that this is one of the sweetest dates you’ve ever been on and it’s not even a date. Or, at least you don’t think it’s a date. 

The heated look in Ryan’s eyes when they quickly slide over to look at you in the passenger seat have you wondering otherwise. “Did you really think it was over?”

Twenty minutes later sees Ryan pulling over on a random dirt road outside of the city.

“Star gazing?” you ask, unable to keep the hope or the excitement out of your voice. 

He pulls a blanket out of the back seat and hops out. “C’mon.”

It’s now officially the most romantic date you’ve ever been on, cold McDonalds fries and watered down iced coffees between you be damned. 

“Look up!” He points to a shooting star blazing across the night sky. You do, your shoulders brushing against his and the moonlight glinting off the small pendant around your neck. 

He doesn’t kiss you that night, but you feel a fundamental shift in the energy of your friendship from there on out.

three: morning, his place / burnt toast, sunday

Burnt toast is a sign of a stroke, right? You wake up with a killer hangover and the aforementioned offensive smell. It’s undercut by what you hope is the strongest coffee known to man, and ultimately the promise of a caffeine fix is what gets you out of bed. There’s whistling too, you realize as you approach the kitchen, and it’s not until that whistle stops mid-note with Ryan’s shocked face that you look down at what you’re wearing. 

It’s an entirely-too-long-for-you red Devils shirt with 33 on the top right corner and you can only assume the number rests on your back too alongside his last name. It’s really not that different from the jersey you wear to every game and yet it’s completely different. More intimate somehow, despite the design being quite similar. The way his Adam's apple bobs alongside his suspended hand holding a bright yellow spatula tells you that you’re not alone in your thoughts. 

“What are you burning?” you finally break the tension with a joke. His shoulders relax before he spins back to the pan of slightly burnt eggs.

He drawls sarcastically, “It was supposed to be breakfast.”

The air crackles between the two of you as you eat silently side by side at the kitchen island save for the occasional “can you pass me that?” and “thank you.” You’re lost in thought, but so is he, contemplation written clearly across his face for you to read.

After breakfast, you put your jeans from last night back on, but you don’t change into the sparkly little top you were wearing, preferring the comforting cotton of the fanatics branded t-shirt. Ryan notices, if the way his eyes linger on the number at your shoulder is any indication. It sends a little thrill through you and reminds you of all the times you caught him looking a second longer and a touch heavier than just a friend would do. 

“I would stay for a second course of your lovely cooking,” you state with sarcasm dripping from your tongue, “but I should get home. I have a very important date.” As his eyebrows raise up toward his hairline, you find yourself stumbling over an addendum, “Uh, with my couch I mean. And Netflix. All alone.”

“Good,” he says quickly, before backtracking. “I mean, sounds good.”

When you smile at him, he relaxes but the tension doesn’t fade between you as he walks you to the door like the gentleman he is.

The kiss he presses to your cheek, right near the corner of your mouth is less gentlemanly.

“Text me when you get home safe.”

four: you kiss on sidewalks / you fight, and you talk

“Are you mad at me?” 

It’s the entirely wrong thing to say to your friend of six months turned… whatever it was you two were to each other. His shoulders are tight and there’s a stormy look overtaking his features.

“Am I mad at you?” Ryan is animated and incredulous in a way you’ve never really seen him off the ice. The fire in his eyes is one you’ve only ever witnessed right before laying a heavy check… or right after taking one from the opposition.

“Yes, are you mad at me?” Unfortunately, you’re the doubling down type 

“I am mad. And disappointed. And… and feeling pretty stupid right now!” He advances on you, but there’s nothing aggressive about his stride, even with the way his six foot five frame towers over you. It’s not aggression, but it is passion and there’s a wild frenzy about his actions. 

“Stupid? Ryan?” Your voice is so much smaller than it normally is, the dark tempest of your disposition tamed by your uncertainty in the moment.

“I lo-like you, okay?” He seems to catch himself, but you can almost hear the unsaid four letter word between you. There’s no time to dwell on it or to respond to the revelation, not with the way he slows his movements to step tentatively into your space, hands reaching for your hips and head inclining down towards yours. “As more than a friend or whatever we are. I think about you all the time. And you don’t have to feel the same, but it kills me to think of you going out on a date with some other guy.”

You’re at a loss for words—the combination of his close proximity and his unexpected confession has your brain all but short circuiting. Slowly, you speak. “I don’t want to date anyone else.”

“You don't?”

“Steph and Meg were just bugging me back there. They think it’s funny to poke fun at my lack of a dating life. Besides, everyone knows it’s you I’m crazy about,” you admit quietly. 

And just like that, right there on the sidewalk outside the team’s favorite bar, Ryan kisses you for the first time.

plus one: you’re my best friend

A road trip has Ryan getting in late. 

He’d told you that they’d had to wait for some bad weather to clear before taking off from the West coast and had offered to go back to his own apartment to let you get your rest, but you’d solidly turned that down. Besides, you were at his apartment anyway—his salary means he can afford the nicer things in life and that includes the most comfortable king size mattress you’ve ever laid upon.

You don’t regret your decision one bit. Not even when he flicks the light on in his bedroom approximately four seconds after getting in before softly apologizing and turning it back off. Not even when he stubs his toe on the dresser in the dark, a sharp curse escaping his lips without any fight. You don’t regret your decision, because after the minor interruption to your REM sleep, he’s slipping into bed next to you and pulling you close. After a long week apart, you welcome the feel of him around you and slip back into a peaceful slumber.

It could be only minutes later or several days—you sleep so peacefully when Ryan is near—when you’re woken up by the rustling of sheets and the cold absence of your boyfriend beside you. He’s sitting up in bed with the strangest look on his face. A mix of confusion and acceptance and peace alongside something else.

“Are you okay, Ry?” you ask with sleep heavy on your eyelids and weighing down your tongue. 

He doesn’t acknowledge you at first, so lost in the heavy weight of his own thoughts that you softly call his name again. This time, he turns toward you and speaks only a single phrase: “You’re my best friend.”

A single, simple phrase and yet, you knew.

He is in love and you are in love and you are in love with each other. 

Always a hopeless romantic, you’d devour cheesy romance novels as a young teenager, read thousands of books where the main characters risked everything for love. You’d always loved reading the dynamic, but you’d never understood it, not really. Not until now.

Not until your boyfriend all but declares it in the sanctity of your dark bedroom on an ordinary night just like any other. 

You understand it now, why Darcy bettered himself for Elizabeth, why Noah never gave up on Allie, even why Romeo and Juliet did what they did—even if it could have been solved with a bit of communication and maturity that two sixteen year olds were clearly lacking.

‘I love you’ is a phrase you’ve uttered millions of times in your life, but no I love you ever meant as much as Ryan’s quiet admission. 

“You’re my best friend,” you echo before pulling him in and kissing the sweet smile off his face.

[skiesoftwilight]

Strange Feelings (Vergil)

This is my very first piece writing for Vergil and in general, the DMC fandom. This idea was something I was toying around with as I tried to get an accurate read on the characters before I actually wrote it; i’m actually happy how it turned out. I based the portrayals off of the newest game: DMC5, just so you guys can go by that. I hope you guys enjoy!

Word Count: 1619

••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Alright, we're here.” 

Nico’s boisterous voice was immediately met with a collection of aggressive shushes from the back of the van. She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion as she flicked the extinguished cigarette butt in between her fingers out the driver’s window before rolling it up and killing the engine to the van. Turning to get out of the driver’s seat, she joined the rest of the Devil May Cry crew in the back.

“Did you guys just—” It happened again. She shut her mouth and finally let her eyes take in the scene that seemed to be more important than letting her announce their arrival back at the office. 

Everyone was sitting in dead silence staring at the couch with a mixture of expressions. Dante’s was the most eye-catching as his eyes were narrowed with confusion and his mouth was slightly agape with a shit-eating grin tugging on the corners of his lips. Nero sat beside Dante at the table, wearing a small smile, while Lady and Trish had curious gazes. Nico confused by her friend’s expressions; she didn’t understand what had made them that way until she looked in the same direction they did.

A soft gasp fell from her lips. She saw Vergil sitting on one end of the couch, his hand cradling the left side of her face with his eyes closed while his other arm rested on the back of the couch. Seeing Vergil sitting on the couch sleeping had already confused her, but the minute she spotted your sleeping form sprawled out on the rest of the couch with your head laying on Vergil’s lap, she about lost her mind.

Leaning down to speak to Nero, she whispered in his ear, “Uh, you’re seein’ what I’m seein’, right?”

“Everyone is seeing what you’re seeing,” Dante answered for the young demon hunter, not even bothering to turn his head away from the strange scene in front of him to address her directly, “This… this is definitely something that I’m gonna bring up tomorrow.”

Lady shoved Dante’s shoulder as he playfully swatted her hand away. Nico nodded her head as if she understood exactly what she was seeing, but she really didn’t; Dante and Nero had told her about Vergil before he joined the crew. They told her about his struggle for power and control and how he wasn’t really in touch with his human side and was learning to embrace it after escaping the Underworld with Dante a couple of months back but… the scene before her showed a completely different side that they didn’t tell her about; it also appeared that they have never seen this side of him either but their expressions.

“What do we do?” Nico asked in a hushed voice.

“We leave these two in here for the night,” Dante shrugged his shoulders, “They obviously look comfortable and it would be rude to wake them.”

Trish rolled her eyes while stretching her arms out in front of her, “A real gentleman you are, Dante.”

“Oh, no, he’s the real gentleman here,” Dante tilted his head in his older brother’s direction with a grin plain on his face.

“I’m still tryin’ to figure out how she was able to get her head on his lap,” Nico spoke, pointing at you while she looked to the others.

“That’s easy,” Dante said, crossing his arms, “He let her.”

Every once did their best to stifle their shocked gasp while Dante turned to them and told them to lowered their voices by lowering his hands, “He’s definitely has a soft spot for her, if he didn’t, she would’ve been laying on this dirty-ass carpet.”

Nico glared at him while he shrugged his shoulders once more. No one spoke for a long time as they took the scene before all deciding that they should leave the van and get some rest on some of the beds in the office. While Nico made her way to the door, the floor creaked beneath her worn boots and the sound of a sharp intake of breath stopped everyone in their tracks.

“What’s going on? Where are you all going?”

Vergil’s icy eyes narrowed on the group trying to step out of the van; they all had wide eyes and closed mouths as the looked at the older Sparda brother. He tried to rise from his seat but was stopped by the weight of your head in his lap. His confusion and irritation deepened when he saw you sleeping on him; he looked to his brother and his friends to help explain what exactly was going on.

“We were just heading out the door into the office,“ Dante hitched a thumb over his shoulder as he looked at his brother with a sly smile, “You can come in with us if you want to—oh wait, you can’t.”

“Dante,” Vergil stared down his brother, his hand already forming a fist, “Move her off of me, right now.”

“Why don’t you wake her yourself?” Dante questioned his brother, his shit-eating grin coming to back to his lips, “That’s if you really want to go inside and sleep alone and break her sleep as well…”

“Dante, don’t be cruel to the man,” Nico looked over at the legendary demon hunter, “He won’t do it because he has a heart.” 

Everyone snickered, looking at Vergil with half smiles while behind their eyes they were a bit fearful of making fun of him when he was known to be ruthless to go up against in a challenge. Vergil looked down at you once again, taking in how peaceful you looked; one side of him urged himself to wake you so he could end this conversation, but the other side told him to leave you be, that with you laying there, it was strange, yet comforting.

“Alright, alright,” Dante sighed, “I’ll be back to help you with her.”

“Dante.”

“I promise.” Dante placed a hand on Nero’s shoulder, squeezing it to make him start walking out the door. Every one whispered bye to Vergil as they left, even Dante. Once they left, Vergil was left alone in the dimly lit van with only his thoughts to keep him company.

Observing your sleeping form on the couch, he took in how the gentle moonlight that crept in through the break in the shades highlighted your facial features. The warmth that your body gave off, struck a strange feeling throughout his body that gave him goosebumps across his skin. The sweet smell of your hair surrounded him with a delightful scent that he had never smelt before. The feelings and things that he experienced around you gave him a strange feeling that he had never felt before, but it brought him comfort.

Dante came back to the van holding a pillow and a blanket under his arm with that same shit-eating grin on his tired face. He handed his brother the pillow while he tossed the blanket across your body, causing you to cuddle closer towards Vergil.

“What is this? What are you doing?” He asked Dante, “I thought you were coming back to help me with her?”

“I did,” Dante shifted on his feet, “I brought a blanket because no matter if it’s forty or a hundred degrees, she always sleeps with a blanket and the pillow is for you, you know, to rest your head on and sleep.” 

Vergil gave a death glare to Dante and just as he was about to threaten him, you stirred, lifting your head up for a brief moment before laying it back down on his lap; his anger dissipated with you simply coming into his mind. Dante shook his head as he stifled another chuckle.

“Dante, don’t you dare—”

“Get some rest, brother,” Dante spoke softly with a certain kindness behind his words, “Oh and by the way, Nico said don’t get too wild in here if she does wake up,” He laughed to himself, “Actually that’s from me but I’m sure she would say the same…Oh and just a side note though, not that I’m trying to hint at anything but, you surprisingly made a good kid, Nero… I’m sure the others might come out the same way, you know, minus the whole orphaning them and whatnot—”

“That’s enough.” Vergil gritted his teeth and waved his hand towards his younger brother to dismiss him; Dante did his best to contain his childish laughter until he closed the van door. Vergil groaned as he heard and saw Dante dying of laughter as he made his way back into the office.

With a heavy sigh, Vergil looked down at you once more before looking to his arm that was draped across the back of the couch. He didn’t want to disturb you but his arm was beginning to hurt, he made the choice to drape it over your waist; he told himself that it was for his own benefit and he could care less about yours, but deep down in his human side, he was relishing in the thought that he finally been able to draw strength from what he used to perceive as a weakness.

Knowing that he couldn’t do anything with sleeping with you still laying on his lap, he let his gaze settle on you as he was lulled back to sleep by the endless thoughts surrounding you in his mind. He knew of your connection with his human counterpart, V, and he still felt it when they merged and he set eyes on you afterward; who knew that after those long months in hell with his brother and you on his mind would strengthing the human in him and bring him to where he was now?

[skvaderarts]

Soliloquy Chapter 3:

You can check out the Masterlist Here for more links to places to read!

Otherwise, you can read the new chapter below. Enjoy!

Chapter Three: Arcana

Note:  I’d just like to take a moment to thank everyone for the massive outpour of support I’ve received for the story so far. From reblogs on Tumblr, to comments, to the number of returning readers, I couldn’t ask for more. Thank you all! I’d love to hear from even more of you in the future. Your kind comments always brighten my day!

There was a certain supernatural aura that seemed to linger like a heavy fog on this seemingly peaceful street.

The crisp white light from the vintage street lights seemed to cascade off of the damp cobblestone road in rows, rippling gently in the reflection of every body of water it crossed. Nearly every window held a shadow, the vibrant light of the moon reflecting off of them like mirrors every time the celestial body dared show itself from behind the veil of passing storm clouds. Every car that hugged the curbside seemed to have been there for only a short while, nothing lingering in this place for very long. Young birch trees cradled within urban tree guards obscured rows of attached row houses, shops, pubs on either side of the road, some of the small businesses seemingly containing residences within or above them. A few were guarded by pull-down security gates in an effort to keep their contents secure overnight. The only significant source of sound came from a small bar and grill towards the far end of the block, though that was not where the duo was headed. At least not at the moment.

As they passed by, Nero could faintly make out letters on the signs of several buildings. A florist shop. Another small grocery store. A bakery. Nothing especially innocuous. He scanned the lonely street, actively searching for the location that had brought them here in the first place. Considering the extenuating circumstances that had brought them here, Nero was almost desperate to hope for a positive outcome. But, taking into account the fact that the last time this place had been confirmed to be inhabited by the person they were looking for had been around the time he had been born, he was forced to be realistic. Then again, Dante hadn’t moved in that amount of time, so perhaps they had reason to suspect the same in this case.

Seemingly from nowhere, a cold breeze blew from some unseen place, causing Nero to shiver. It was uncharacteristically cold for the beginning of August, almost supernaturally so. Just as the youth was going to say something about it, Vergil came to a sudden stop in front of him. Nero joined him, the fingers of his right hand ghosting Blue Rose’s grip. He was more than ready for another fight. Vergil held up his hand, gesturing for him to stop. He tilted his head nonchalantly, gesturing in the direction of one of the nearby buildings. From what Nero could make out, they were standing in front of a shop with a multi-story townhouse nestled snugly above it. The narrow Edwardian building seemed to be historic, faint grey bricks edged with white pillars covering the facade. The upper floors seemed to be a sort of pale yellow plaster, but the windows, which there were several varieties of, seemed to share the same white detailing. All in all, it was a seemingly well kept but worn old rowhouse, not unlike the rest of the street. But Nero would be lying if he didn’t admit that something was just very… off about the place.

“So is this the place we're looking for?” Nero inquired, his eyes never leaving the building.

Vergil nodded quietly, seemingly lost in thought. This was one place he didn’t think he’d ever find himself standing outside of again. “Yes. It seems that she is still here.”

-~-

(About an hour earlier…)

“Ok, so let me get this straight,” Dante shook his head as he reclined in his desk chair, unable to do anything but laugh to himself. This entire situation was unbelievable. “The only person you think can help you out with this idea you won’t tell us about lives on the other side of town and you haven’t seen her in, what, two decades at least? And even if you do find her, you're not sure how she’s going to react to seeing you after all this time?”

Vergil nodded, not entirely sure what else of worth to contribute to his twin brother’s summation. His situation with Magnolia had always been complicated, but the last thing he needed right now was to have to explain his private life to anyone, especially his already justifiably pissed off son. Vergil folded his arms, thinking deeply. “I am not opposed to making a housecall, although she may take offense to the time. It is rather late and she does not live close by.”

Nero sighed, still at a loss for words. This conversation had been going on for the better part of three hours, and sundown was rapidly approaching. They had gone around in circles with the eldest Son of Sparda forever, inquiring as to what he had conjured up inside of his mind and how this woman that neither of them had ever heard of fit into it. And as expected, he had provided them with no explanation or reassurance. Nero could only assume it was because whatever he had planned was so outlandish or improbable that he didn’t wish to start another argument with them about it, but Nero had already reached his limit for the day and he was going to get some answers one way or another. After all, he was far from the type to just sit idly by and twiddle his thumbs waiting for others to fix everything, especially when it came to those he cared about. And despite their brief time together, Nero did include V on that list. Despite not being the most approachable person he’d ever encountered, he possessed a certain charm that had grown on him over time, and, by the end of their journey, he had come to consider him a friend. Or pleasant company, at the very least. He occasionally found himself sparing a mournful glance in the direction of V’s beloved book back home, a mixture of guilt and sadness washing over him that always seemed to linger the longer he spent time near it. He wished that there had been more that he could have done. Watching anyone suffer always took a toll on him, and the Redgrave Disaster had been no different.

“Look,” Nero sighed as he stretched his arms over his head. He was completely done with talking for one day,” Let’s just go. Nico can give us a lift. It won’t take that long. And then you can find out if she can help out and we can go from there.”

Vergil was seemingly natural to the suggestion but sighed in discontent nonetheless. “I am more than capable of handling this on my own. I shall return shortly.”

The eldest Son of Sparda unfolded his arms and took a step towards the door, only to be stopped dead in his tracks by Nero. The young man had migrated towards the back wall and retrieved his sword, clearly intent on following him. Vergil was slightly puzzled. Nero had clearly heard him. “Last time I checked, we spoke the same dialect, Nero.”

Nero placed the blade into the holster on his back and untangled his coat before adjusting his posture, clearly intending to follow Vergil regardless of his protests. Much like Vergil wasn’t receptive to their requests for him to explain his plan, Nero wasn’t receptive to the idea of being left behind by Vergil. He needed answers, and maybe this Magnolia woman could provide them. “And last time I checked, you were full of shit. You need a ride, and I have one. And we both need questions answered. So I’m coming with you, like it or not; I don’t really care either way right now. Not in the mood.”

For a moment, Vergil had to remind himself that he did not need another of his children’s death on his hands. And considering his past behavior to the younger descendant of Sparda, he didn’t have much ground to stand on with him. But regardless of that, he still found himself irritated with Nero’s unwavering fowl attitude towards him! “Do not test me, child. I am in no mood. You will stay here with Dante-”

“Nope. Not happening,” Nero interjected, seemingly unaffected by his father’s darker inflection,” I’m going with you. You’ve spent enough time avoiding me, and I’m getting the answers I need, and I couldn’t care less if you like it or not. I’m not some little kid you can just tell to sit in the car while you go take care of shit!”

Vergil stared at his son long and hard before closing his eyes and turning away from him and heading towards the door. The older man didn’t give him permission to come with him, but he had seemingly dropped his protests in favor of giving him the cold shoulder. Nero followed after him, admittedly somewhat pleased that he hadn’t allowed Vergil’s insistence to change his stance on the matter.

“We’ll be back later,” Nero shouted to Dante over his shoulder as he closed the door behind him. Dante scoffed in amusement, waving him on. The Youngest Son of Sparda had possibly just found the one person who was better at getting under his identical twin’s skin than he was.

Once outside, the two of them headed towards the van. After their fight, Nico had relocated the vehicle to a more fitting spot next to the front steps. The remnants of their fight from earlier that day still remained, dislocated bricks and scorch marks covering every surface in a considerable perimeter around the front entrance. It was amazing that the building itself had been unharmed during the battle. Nero opened the sliding door and stepped into the vehicle, startling Nico as he did so. The mechanic was leaned over her workstation, welding something together. “Damn it, could you knock next time or somethin’? I’m tryin’ to get work done here!”

Nero laughed at the comment, but only for a moment. He then leaned over the table himself, observing her work for himself. “I was wondering why you never came inside.”

Nico turned off the power tool and sat it down before lifting her protective visor. Just as she did so, Vergil closed the door and stepped around the corner, his eyes wandering around the space he stood in. Nico gave him an inquisitive look before coming around the table and approaching the eldest Son of Sparda to get a better look. “So your Vergil, right? Nero told me ‘bout you earlier.”

Vergil internally balked at her accent, not at all expecting it. He then nodded, deciding to not dwell on it. He didn’t really care what she sounded like, one way or another.. Nero walked past them both and flopped down into the passenger’s seat, kicking his feet up. “This is Nico. She’s the one that made the Devil Breakers for me after that shit you pulled in my garage. You can thank her for all that shit I hit you in the face with back then.”

Vergil nodded sarcastically at his son, not at all amused but admittedly intrigued as to how the young human woman before him had managed to do something so complicated on such short notice. “You have experience with prosthetics, then?” He asked, genuinely intrigued but not showing it.

Nico shook her head and pointed towards the plack on the far wall. “Naw, my grandmother was a woman named Nell Goldstine. Folkes called her the 45 Caliber Virtuoso! That, and my useless daddy studied demons.Tinkerin’ just runs in my blood, and the Devil Breakers are the start to a whole bunch of stuff I’ve been cookn’ up lately! Those demon assholes won’t know what hit em’.”

The dim light in the van was Vergil’s only saving grace as he visibly paled at the mention of Nell’s name. Was this some kind of Freudian waking nightmare? Was this some sort of ironic punishment? Why and how on earth did Nero end up friends with a Goldstine? Those were memories that Vergil had forced deep down into his subconscious a long time ago, and here was a living reminder of yet another regrettable crime he had committed in his youth.

Nico had joined Nero at the front of the van by this point and she was in the process of starting up the van, the both of them waiting for his directions. “So, where we headed?”

Vergil composed himself and let out a long sigh, thoroughly done with his day. “Bristol Street. Head towards Enamel City and to the center of the market district.”

Nico shrugged and put the car into reverse, violently acquainting Vergil’s face with the couch as he was thrown off of his feet and towards the floor. Nero snickered and shook his head. “Oh, yea. By the way, Nico can’t drive for shit! Forgot to mention that.”

Vergil glared up at his son as he collected himself. He had been taken off guard far too many times for his liking today. “Yes, Nero. I may have noticed that.”

-~-

Nero was confident that the next ice age would arrive before Vergil finally headed towards the stairs. He had stood there, looking at the stairs that led up to the front door of the row home for what had to be a solid five to ten minutes before finally heading towards the house. Even for the eldest Son of Sparda, he was uncomfortably quiet. Nero didn’t bother to ask why. He knew Vergil wouldn’t tell him if he did. But he still couldn’t quite shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, there was something more going on at this place that he initially thought. When they had first arrived, Nero had asked Nico to get in contact with Dante and keep him updated on the situation. Although there was probably nothing to be worried about, Nero didn’t fully trust anyone that he didn’t know. And he especially didn’t trust anyone that Vergil might be friends with.

The youngest descendant of Sparda’s train of thought was interrupted by the sound of Vergil’s discontent sighs. It didn’t take a mind reader to tell that he didn’t want to be here doing this. Nero glanced over at him and then the door, in slight disbelief that he had still hadn’t made an effort to knock on the door. “I fucking swear to god, If you don’t, I will.”

Vergil shot him a quick glare before reaching up to knock on the door. He paused before his hand made contact with the door, instead opting to use the knocker on the door instead. He delivered three quick knocks and then stopped, waiting for a response. After a long moment of silence, a friendly female voice broke the silence. “I apologize, but the Apothecary is closed for the night! You’re going to have to come back in the morning. But if it’s an emergency, do go to the hospital! I wouldn’t want you to expire on my steps, now would I?”

Nero snickered to himself. The woman had a slight British accent, and a very proper one at that. He had heard someone speak this way before, but he was still taken slightly by surprise. Vergil knocked again, this time with his hand. Light footsteps could be heard approaching the door, stopping just a few feet shy of it. “Oh, dear… I’m sorry but I must insist that you go elsewhere. We’re closed now. Try again in the morning?” She sounded almost concerned as she spoke, her voice caring a gentle and almost caring tone to it.

Nero was about to speak up when Vergil shook his head to himself and sighed, a mixture of discomfort and something else that Nero couldn’t quite place in his voice. “Magnolia… I have returned.”

In one rapid, jarring movement, the door swung open with enough force to pull it free from its hinges and slammed against the outer wall, bouncing back a few inches. Vergil caught it before it could swing closed again (or hit him in the face) and stared at her, seemingly just as startled as his young son was. A woman who didn’t look significantly older than Nero stood in front of them, her soft grey eyes staring at Vergil in a cold calculating manner. She was slightly wide-eyed, a fact that was slightly undercut by the fact that her long, frizzy brownish auburn hair obscured half of her face. It fell in spiral curls that ended at the cusp of her shoulder blade, a few grey streaks traveling through it on one side. She and Kyrie were about equal in proportion, although this woman was slightly shorter. She wore a grey and blue long hanging sleeved dress with thin leather buckles around the waist and a pair of half knee-length, soft grey leather boots adorning her legs.

The woman closed her eyes and Nero suddenly felt the sensation that something wasn’t right. When she opened them again, they were a bright, almost neon sign shade of red, her once diminutive stature now commanding and fierce. She raised a hand and held it out in front of herself as if to do something with it and Nero saw Vergil’s posture change. They were both ready to strike.

“So, um… are you Magnolia?” Nero asked almost cautiously. He had the distinct feeling that he didn’t want anything to do with what she had planned.

In the blink of an eye, Nero felt the air leave his lungs as his body left the ground and he veered rapidly towards a hard impact. He landed back first against the pavement, coughing and gasping for breath as he clutched his now throbbing chest and stomach. His ears were ringing and his vision was clear but spinning, leaving him a disoriented mess on the ground. As his head stopped spinning, he glanced around himself in a panic to regain his bearings, only to realize that he was laying at the bottom of the stairs. He had been knocked down?

As he moved to sit up, a wave of nausea hit him and a hand touched him, holding him back. He blinked rapidly and made eye contact with Vergil, who was shockingly, standing between him and the woman who had struck him down. Vergil had Yamato drawn and was addressing the woman before them in a tone that unmistakably tinted with rage. “Magnolia, your fight is with me. You will leave my son out of this.”

Magnolia stared at Vergil angrily from the top of the stairs before taking a long, slow breath and exhaling, her anger seemingly leaving her. She shook her head before taking a step forward. “Is the child hurt?”

Nero shook his head, sitting up to try and regain his senses quicker. “Well, besides the fact that you just threw me down the stairs, I’m just fine.” 

She seemed relieved to hear Nero speak. “Forgive me, young one. That was meant for Vergil,” She said as she turned towards the Darkslayer,” You have some nerve coming back here! It’s been two decades at least! What could you possibly want from me after all this time?!”

Vergil sheathed Yamato but stood his ground, remaining between Magnolia and Nero, who was just now clambering to his feet. He looked down at the ground as if considering his next words carefully before looking back up to meet Her gaze. He spoke firmly and clearly. 

“I need you to locate a lost soul for me. I’m no Alchemist, Magnolia. But you most certainly are.”

Thank you for reading this chapter! The next chapter will be out on Friday, May 8th, so tune in to find out how the hell they are going to figure this one out! Sorry for any mistakes. I ran this through two grammar and spelling checkers, but I’m running on fumes and my mind isn’t in this anymore. I stayed up all night to finish this the night of my birthday, so I’m just very tired. The next chapter is going to be very fun, and I look forward to having you guys read it! Also, are the chapters too long, too short, or fine how they are? Let me know in the comments! Have a wonderful day and stay safe!

Sorry for the late post today! I overslept!

[etlunainmorte]

✒ P.S. I Love You ✒

***

X

***

Later that day, Griffon was staring too hard at Nico ( who was holding an ice pack against her head ) as she rewinded again and again at a certain video that one of the spy cameras captured last night. V ( who was idly waving off the cigarette smoke that wafted too close to his nostrils ) was on another table nearby studying the photos that she found.

"What are ya doin' now?" Griffon asked the woman for the third time that day as she furrowed her eyebrows in confusion at what she was trying to capture.

"Will ya shut yer beak for a while? I'm tryin' to concentrate." Nico answered as she clicked harshly on her mouse once more.

It was the same for V. He studied the photographs ( or what was written on them ) and read (Y/N)'s journal ( which, by the way, manifested another entry ) over and over again but, the dots doesn't seem to connect, at all.

Yes, the two looked like they were very much in love. Yes, they met during that summer gathering that May of 1898. However, he just couldn't see what their connection was with the ghosts that were haunting this mansion.

And most importantly, he just couldn’t see the reason why (Y/N) would change into that emotionless matriarch in the portrait.

If she’s truly happy, then why would - ?

Unless,…

V took a photograph of Victor reading something to (Y/N), who was sitting right next to him. He turned it and read the simple writings at the back.

I wish we could stay like this for a while.

V's eyes narrowed at the message. The name of whoever wrote in it, whether it was (Y/N) or Victor, was not indicated, and the feeling of dread that he suddenly felt in it spelled something entirely worse in his mind.

"Shit!" Nico muttered as she slammed on her table, startling Griffon in the process.

V looked at the other photographs and found similar looking shots of the couple looking very happy. And as he rightfully suspected, they all bore the same vague messages at the back.

I love you. So much.

I missed you. So badly, it hurts.

I hope you're happy, wherever you are.

That last message startled the poet. "I hope you're happy, wherever you are." He read again, this time, out loud. He turned the photo and saw Victor holding hands with (Y/N) as they looked at each other with content smiles on their face. She was wearing what looked like a lace veil on her head and they were both wearing similar rings. There were people cheering for them on the background and he even saw (Y/N)'s maidservant throwing petals at them.

Wait. Is this,... their wedding?

He looked once more at the photograph. It can't be a wedding since the "event" merely took place in the library / music room. He looked harder once more,...

... until he finally noticed something strange. It was only a very little detail but, he was certain of it. On the left corner of the photo was a male figure standing away from the others. It was really hard to see his face considering the poor quality of the old photo but, V was a hundred percent sure that he doesn't look happy for the couple.

He took another photograph from the box and saw the same group of people ( the couple was now kissing and looking absolutely happy ) and the same, strange man, his face still unrecognizable. He grabbed the pictures he was looking at and realized, to his utter horror, that every time (Y/N) and Victor were involved in a single photograph, the strange one would invade the scene like an unwanted visitor.

And he still couldn't see his face.

He needed to see more. He needed to -

"Holy hell!" Griffon exclaimed, now startling V and putting him out of his concentration. "V, look at this!"

The poet obliged and left his temporary workplace to look at what Nico and his familiar were doing. Nico waited for V to arrive, and when he finally did, she showed him a clip from the video she trimmed. She even slowed it down several times, and the result was mind - blowing.

All three of them stared in disbelief as they saw V making his way to (Y/N)'s room, and when he vanished a few seconds later, something materialized on the place where he stood. It was only for a split - second but, it was unmistakable: they saw a man clothed in white,...

Both Griffon and Nico shrieked in fright at the top of their lungs as they heard a loud banging on the front door. V, being the only ( slightly ) sane person left, stood and opened it. He was greeted by a group of middle - aged women smiling at him like nobody's business.

"What can I do for you?" He politely asked, his low voice giving the women some chills of the unspeakable kind.

"Is this the Lancaster residence?" The woman asked, her wide smile giving V some creeps of the unspeakable kind.

"Why, yes. It is."

V's eyebrows shot up to his hairline as the middle - aged women giggled and shrieked and slapped each other in the arms at the same time.

"The groom is charming!"

"He's such a hottie!"

"Lucky bride!"

"AAHH!"

"Groom?" Nico questioned as she joined V at the door. "What are these hags doin' here?"

"I have no idea." V answered. He cleared his throat and addressed the women. "If you are looking for - "

The leader of the group, who wore the heaviest makeup among all of them, took V's hands and shook it over and over in excitement. "I would like to inform you that today is your lucky day, Mr. Francisco!"

"I believe you have the wrong person - "

"And you must be Ms. Edwards! Oh, my! It's so nice to finally meet you."

"We're not - "

"So, can we start the planning for the layout of the wedding of the century now?"

"I'm sorry but - "

"AHEM!"

All of them turned to see the real Mr. Francisco and Ms. Edwards just behind the women, giving them weird looks with raised eyebrows.

"You're looking for us?" Avery asked as she crossed her arms over her shoulders.

*

"We definitely have to solve this problem soon." V told Nico and Griffon a few minutes later as Avery and Roman brought the wedding planners to the garden to have their meeting regarding their upcoming event. "The wedding is in five days."

"I get ya." Nico, who finally ditched the ice pack, agreed. "So, any other leads?" V showed Nico the photographs where the strange man appeared, and as the woman picked them up and studied them very, very closely, she nodded her head in agreement. "Yeah. I'm positive of it: this man," she uttered, then pointed at her PC with her left thumb. " ... and the one that showed up after you're gone are the same. Heck, he may be our main ghost here but, we have to be sure. All that’s left for us by then is to drive him out and let him know he’s not invited to the wedding.”

"But, how is he connected to all of this?" Griffon questioned as he, too, took a good long look at the photos that were scattered on the table.

V let out a sigh as he took out (Y/N)'s diary from his pocket. Then, he opened it and turned to the page where some writings recently materialized. Nico and Griffon went over to his side to read the new entry along with him.

May 11, 1898

I finally met him! The man of my dreams! The one and only Victor Blake! I just can't believe it! He IS actually IN THE SAME HOUSE AS ME RIGHT NOW! And what's more,

He even quoted poetry as he looked at me! He even kneeled before me and took my hand in his!

And, oh my God! He kissed the back of my hand!

I honestly thought I was going to die but Daniella brought me back. And when she said later that Mr. Blake likes me, I just felt that I could die right then and there with a smile and go to heaven!

Victor Blake - liking me?

My wildest dreams must be turning into reality! I mean, there are a lot of other beautiful women out there but,

HE CHOSE ME!

Oh my God, I simply can't believe this! I really am going to die and go straight to heaven with this!

Oh, God forgive me...

I know I must be exaggerating. But who cares? Daniella might be wrong about her assumptions but I still like him. No. I love him. And that's all that matters. He can ignore me and I will still love him. Until the day I die.

P.S.

My father just announced that all the important guests would be staying here for three months! And that includes Mr. Blake!

P.P.S.

I can't sleep knowing that he's just literally below me on the first floor, sleeping or reading or writing maybe. He may be writing. Books and poems and proses. I wonder what they're all about?

"That girl surely fell hard for ya, V." Nico mused, and when the poet just raised an eyebrow at her, knowing full well that (Y/N), in fact, fell for a different kind of V, she just smirked. "I'm jokin’!"

"Well, ya can't just follow an infatuated brat around and get ourselves attacked like that again!" Griffon screamed at V, who was still looking at the writings on the journal. "It's just suicidal! Plus, it doesn't really help us with the mission."

"Maybe." V finally spoke up. He slammed the journal shut and hid it once more as he gained the attention of his two companions. "But, this man," he said, then pointed at the said man in the photographs. " ... was connected to both (Y/N) and Victor. And I must find out everything about this,… connection. I will not rest,… until I do.”

"Ugh! Count me out, please! I don't wanna go back there!" His demonic familiar pleaded.

"We don't have a choice." Nico answered as she left for a while to pick up the radio from her own table. "We started this. And we have to see this through."

V nodded in agreement as he received his radio from her. "I'll go back there tonight. I'll be relying on you to watch everything from here to the highest floor."

"As if I have a choice!"

"Nico, you - "

The woman waved her hand at him. "Yeah, yeah. Keep yer panties on. I can endure another night here. Besides,..." She held up her radio, pressed a button, and after a few seconds, they finally heard what she recorded in it last night.

And it truly frightened them.

"Hello? Is anybody here? If there are,... any spirits here, say HHHOOOEEE!"

"What is that,... ?" Griffon questioned as they heard some strange whispers after Nico stopped talking.

"If there are any spirits here, say - "

"GET OUT! GET OUT WHILE YOU CAN! HE'S AFTER THEM! AFTER ALL THIS TIME! HE'S GOING TO KILL YOU! RUN! RUN AWAY FROM HERE! RUN AS FAST AS YOU - !"

"SHUT UP!"

"AAAHHH!"

V covered his mouth as he waited for the shrill and unearthly noises to subside. But, it only gradually worsened as it got more and more distorted that Nico had to turn it off.

"I heard a different voice last night, and I do not remember hearing anything like that." Nico confessed as she put the radio down to light another cigarette. "After that, this strange entity with big red eyes started chasin' me around until I have to hide. It's when I found that box containin' those old photographs." She sighed and shook her head as she bumped her forehead several times with her fist. She looked up once more and faced her companions. "So, ready for round two?"

Nico didn't have to tell him.

He will definitely solve this mystery. He must.

***

✒ @la-vita , @micaelagua , and @v-vic . ✒

***

✒✒✒

***

[whumpywhumper]

Puppy Face 🐶

So, I had some very lovely individuals request another Markus/Lucien drabble and, for some reason, that freaked my poor anxiety-ridden brain right the fuck out, and I couldn’t do it. 😅

Therefore, I went ahead and worked with Illyn and @0idril0 ‘s amazing OC, Clint, from her Nico series! 

I now have a solid idea for what I want to do with Markus and Lucien and, hopefully, I can get another drabble up today or tomorrow. My lovely requesters, @starrywhump @castielamigos @comfy-whumpee @imagination1reality0 , please bear with me! 

Edit for Masterpost

****

Illyn paced, hands in her hair, smoke from her altar fouling the air. Her latest fucking failure.  She didn’t know what to do, she didn’t know who to call. Usually, she would call Markus, but that wasn’t an option. 

Obviously. 

She gave her messy blonde hair a vicious tug and swallowed a sob of frustration. Crying wouldn’t help anything. She turned sharply on her heel, feet sinking into the fluffy carpet, and stalked back to the myriad of books that lay stacked and open to various pages. There had to be something there that she could try, something that she hadn’t thought to use. 

If Markus was here he would know what to do. He would open right up to a spell or a dowsing rod and he would have the answers. He was a genius at this shit. Illyn was too new, inexperienced. Her talents lay in different directions. 

The old books were musty to her stopped up nose and their leather bindings crinkled as she shuffled through them. Her eyes were burning and she brushed away tears as they fell onto the vellum pages. She didn’t even know what she was looking at. Glyphs and diagrams swam in front of her vision, carefully drawn botanical depictions blurred together,  and she squeezed her eyes shut to get away from them.  

Markus had been gone for 40 hours.  Almost two fucking days. 

In that time, she had been able to make contact with him once for all of two minutes before she couldn’t hold the spell any longer. The only information she had was that he was still within a fifty-mile radius of his shop and he was being kept in a concrete room with florescent lights. 

She had nothing. 

All subsequent attempts to contact him had failed. She barely understood the spell that she used the first time well enough to get it working and had no idea why it wouldn’t work again. The police weren’t an option. Pretty much all supernatural incidents were ignored unless they had to do with a human. She and Markus didn’t have many friends here in Salem and the friends she had that could help her were half a country away. 

Her hands tightened in the overly large flannel she wore over her nightshirt, pulling it up to her nose to suck in the rosemary and sage smell. She’d taken the flannel from Markus’s work station; he wore it constantly and she never let the chance to make fun of it get away from her.   She hadn’t changed her own clothes since Markus’s call had woken her up in the middle of the night. 

She stank. Her hair was greasy. She was exhausted. 

She couldn’t do this. 

Illyn’s lip trembled and she bit it to quell the oncoming sob-fest. She sank to the floor and hugged her knees, rocking slowly, back and forth. 

All of the information that she had didn’t give her any new leads, any new direction to go. She’d found Markus’s cell phone, the crumpled remains of the demolished electronic were exactly at the GPS location Markus had texted her. 

She’d driven as fast as she could, screaming, hitting her steering wheel. Breaking every traffic law that she knew in order to get there as fast as she could. And she was still too late. All there was was the fucking cell phone. A small spatter of blood from Markus’s fucking bullet wound that didn’t lead anywhere. There weren’t any footprints on the asphalt.  Nothing. 

Her rocking sped up and her hands sank back into her hair. A noise bubbled up in her throat and she didn’t fight the agonized wail that escaped her lips. She pressed her face to her knees but it did nothing to muffle the heartache. 

Illyn didn’t let herself break down for long. Great hiccuping breaths followed after a few moments and she tried to pull herself together. The meat of her palms pressed the tears away, and she stood. She’d run very option through, now it was time for someone else to step in. As much as she didn’t want to call. Face what she’d done. 

Hands trembling with fatigue, she dug through her purse and found her phone. Still charged like a miracle in and of itself. Her favorites list was only two clicks away and she pressed the nickname “Puppy Face” with the dog emoji. 

The phone rang twice before a deep masculine voice answered. “Hey dumplin’, mind if I call ya’ back? In the middle of tryin’ to tie up some loose ends.” 

“Clint.” She squeezed the name out of her tight throat, eyes burning, and her entire face scrunched up of its own accord. “Clint, I need your help. Please.” 

“Illyn? What’s wrong?” 

She sobbed, recalling those same words coming out of her mouth. “It’s Markus, he’s been taken. I can’t find him. Please, you have to help. I’ve tried everything. Scrying, dousing, spells— there’s a spell in here that calls for the damn lens from a fly’s eye, not even the whole fly. Is says specifically not to put the whole fly in there. Can you fuckin’ believe that? There’s another—” 

“Illyn— Dumplin’, you’re rambling. Slow down. What do you mean Markus has been taken?” 

Her shaking hand moved to cover her mouth, to stop the random deluge of information, and she took a deep breath. Right. Priorities. 

“I mean that he called me at two o’clock in the morning almost two days ago and I’m pretty sure that he was kidnapped by something that showed up on one of my augers. Something that scared the shit out of me.” 

“Two- Two days ago.” There was a deep breath over the line and what was possibly a suppressed growl. “Illyn you know the first 48 hours are the most important in these situations. Why didn’t you call me sooner?”

Guilt rumbled through her body like the subway overhead at midnight. She bit her lip and sank back down to the floor. Fighting tears. She pressed her back into the cabinet, grounding herself. “Ca-Cause it’s m-my fault.” Her breaths hitched in her chest, oxygen lacking from every inhale. The knobs of her spine dug into the wood behind her. 

“Explain.” The word was short, to the point. 

A whine made its way out of her mouth and she hated how pathetic she sounded. How pathetic she was. “I-I borrowed Markus’s gr-grahm, Clint. I-I was scared and a-asked if I could buh-borrow it and copy it. And—And he didn’t have it—“ she sucks in a wild breath, trying to make the dark spots gathering in front of her eyes go away “—he didn’t—“ she couldn’t say it again. She curled in on herself, her head pounding with tears. 

Clint’s voice softened, just barely, “Dumplin’, this isn’t your fault. Just tell me what happened.” 

She sniffed, snot and mucous slurping up her nose, as she told him what happened. “. . . I swear, Clint, I tried to get there. But he was just gone. He screamed and—and he just wasn’t there. . . . “ She trailed off after giving him all of the information. Her forehead rested against her knees. Exhausted. 

“Okay,” Clint sighed. She could almost see him pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m going to head up there as soon as I can, but there’s someone closer to you that I think will be able to help. Illyn, I need you to do something for me, okay?” 

“Anything,” she begged. 

“Go take a shower and a nap. You’re exhausted and ya’ can’t help if you’re dead on your feet.” 

Illyn rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. “Okay,” she mumbled, “okay.” 

“Illyn,” Clint said, voice catching her attention. “We’ll find him, okay?” 

She swallowed. “Yeah, okay.”  

“I’ll talk to you soon Illyn” 

“Bye Clint.” Illyn hung up the phone and dropped it to the floor with a thump. There was nothing else she could do.  

[lonelypond]

Casual Lunacy, Ch. 35

Love Live, NicoMaki, 3K, 35/?

De-Lovely

The walk home had been as romantic as you could get when handholding meant Maki brushing Nico’s hand with her warm furry shoulder and serenading meant Maki howling what Nico suspected was an approximation of “It’s De-lovely.” The night was almost young, the air was nearly clear, Fangs' tech was done for the day, and Nico could go home, collapse on the couch and ACTUALLY relax, at least until tomorrow when she had to wake up early, head to the Cup o’ to work a shift and prep the Sunday/Monday food, and then go back to the theatre for a redo of Fangs tech. Nico was not looking forward to that, having to rework cues was boring. Yes, Nico knew it was necessary, but that didn’t make having to be there while it happened any more fun.

Maki was having a slightly less relaxing night, every time she snuffled at any part of Nico, she smelled Nico PLUS Kashima, which in wolf form, was bringing out the urge to chase Kashima down and...Maki raised her snout, sniffing the air, she could smell Kashima halfway across campus, going home with some woman other than Nico. Maki glanced at Nico, tempted to sprint off and return quickly. But then Nico ruffled the fur behind Maki’s ear and said, “Nico is happy to see you, pretty girl. I was feeling lonely.”

Maki sniffed Nico’s hand. Besides a huge dose of Kashima and a surge in vanilla and magic, there was fatigue and frustration and not so much of the delicious and delirious mix that would always entice Maki Nico-ward. A little more than half the moon shone brightly and Maki could feel that tug again, although not in any way she could currently articulate. She howled, full voice, then drifted a little ahead of Nico, wary of potential dangers. Maki had been eager to see Nico, practically desperate to push Nico toward her apartment so they could...Maki shook her head, that thought was a bit blurry, mostly an urge to roll around on Nico’s couch in her current form while Nico...Maki stopped, letting Nico catch up and stood taller when she felt Nico’s bare hand on her shoulder, the connection a magnet between them even if something in the atmosphere pricked at Maki’s primal instincts, friction seeding cantrips of doubt. It was probably only that Nico smelled so different, stage makeup and strangers, people Maki couldn’t make a mental map of from trace fragments. And Kashima, smelling bold and...forceful. Maki whined.

“What’s the matter, Maki?” Nico nudged Maki with her hip, “We’re almost home. You can tell Nico all about it, then Nico will tell you exactly why she smells so much like Kashima...Nico only wishes it was a funny story instead of a list of how many places can Kashima accidentally put her hands wrong. She was so busy trying to…”

Maki snarled. Nico stopped. Lavender eyes were glinting too green for Nico’s liking. Something was off…Nico smiled, hands back in her mittens, clapping them together to signal a new scene starting, one where Nico fixed the mood by talking about Nico.

“Come on, Maki, let’s hurry up. Nico is too too cold,” Nico very dramatically hugged herself while shivering, directly in front of the werewolf’s nose, Nico concentrating on memories of last night, Maki at the piano, Maki sprawling underneath Nico, no human sounds passing those lips carved out of perfect pink...Maki pushed forward, sniffing eagerly, and Nico could feel the change, Maki’s renewed interest in her. Nico trotted past Maki, only two more streets to cross, then Maki gets the “don’t be jealous” lecture and Nico gets to brush her lips against something more yielding than the starched fabric of Dracula’s collar.

Nico was great at planning. Pick any strategy game, any historic battle, and Nico’s thinking would be the mirror image of the winning general. Nico knew how to identify a problem, create a plan to solve that problem, and put that plan into action. Easy peasy. Got Nico where she was right now. Which was up against the wall that was the realization that a stubborn werewolf girlfriend might not exactly be a problem Nico could use her strategic resources to solve.

Maki was sitting in front of Nico’s bedroom, obstinately blocking Nico's passage. And trying to actively shove Nico toward the bathroom. When Nico refused to move, Maki would sniff Nico and whine, eyes lavender and pouty over a drooping snout.

“Maki is jealous, huh? Upset because Nico smells like Kashima.” Nico dropped back into the couch, wooly socks propped up on the table in front of her, “That’s cute for maybe 10 seconds, pretty girl, but we can’t have this. Nico is in a business where in order to maximize Nico’s talent and cuteness, I’m going to have to get close to sweaty, possibly hairy people who are not you.”

Maki whined, adding a particularly pathetic howled series of notes at the end. Then she leapt over the table and landed across Nico’s lap, rocking the couch.

“Oooooppphhh...ow, Maki, Nico wasn’t ready for that.” Nico spread her arms across the back of the couch, refusing to encourage Maki with petting. Maki took advantage of this to lick Nico’s face from chin to ear, then dragging her rough, wet tongue across Nico’s nose to slobber from the other ear back chin-ward, then nuzzling into Nico’s neck, softly whining.

“Uuugghhh” Nico pushed against Maki, but the werewolf had settled most of her weight on Nico’s lap and was snuffling her way down Nico’s sweater, distending the neckline, “This is ridiculous. Nico has better ways to spend her Saturday night than being a sponge for werewolf saliva.” Nico grabbed under Maki’s snout and forced the redhead to make eye contact. “MAKI.”

Maki froze.

Nico dislodged the werewolf from her lap. “Good. Nico is going to go shower, to get the smell of Kashima AND YOU off her.” Nico sighed as Maki whimpered. “While Nico is doing that, find something to wear. Nico needs to get you a werewolf backpack full of clothes.” Nico stood, arms crossed, “Actually, Nico will be right back.” Nico disappeared into Umi’s room, Maki shuffling after her, puzzled. Nico came back with a dark blue corduroy shirt, muttering, “”Girlfriend who never brings clothes” surely falls under the “joint resources in case of emergency” clause.” Nico draped the shirt over Maki’s back, “Wear this. It’ll be a little tight, but Nico deserves a perq after all this. And no peeking at Nico in the shower.”

Maki sat back on her haunches and nodded. Nico chuckled, hands mussing the fur between Maki’s ears, tone playful, “Don’t worry, fur, red, standing up, eyes, jealous, green.”

Maki snorted, brow furrowed, suspicious.

Nico ignored her and continued. “Nico has an idea about how you can make this up to her.”

Human Maki might have wondered why Nico smelling brash and confident was such a draw, wolf Maki just clamped her jaw closed to stifle the thirsty whimper.

Smirking, Nico tapped her nose on Maki’s, voice a low thrill, “See you soon, pretty GIRL.”

Pleased. It was an odd feeling, Nozomi thought, her face open and cheerful, her loving fiancee on her arm, snuggling as close as she could because after dark, and a difficult tech done for the day. Satisfaction surrounded the two of them like a precious bubble and Nozomi slowed her steps to enjoy every breath of it.

“I was looking forward to a free day tomorrow,” Eli sighed.

Nozomi patted her hand, “You were looking forward to more time to study for midterms.”

Eli sounded hurt, “While lying in your bed, next to you, Nozomi.”

Nozomi, “Ah, you wouldn’t have gotten much studying done then, Eli-chi. You were very distracting on stage today. I’m glad Shalin’s running the light board not me, I’d be missing cues while you slink across the stage being sexy.”

Eli’s grip tightened, “It’s fun playing a villain. It’s so physical, looming over Micah, trying to snatch Harker before Dracula ruins the party.”

“Dracula, the Party Ruiner.” Nozomi started to cross Sheridan Road, but Eli pulled her north.

“Remember, Nozomi, we have to meet Hanayo. She’s in a panic. Someone saw Rin on the Lakefill.”

“Poor Rin.”  

Eli shrugged. “More like nasty ‘People Threatening Rin’.”

“True.” Nozomi swung her hand down to grasp Eli’s and picked up the pace, “Let’s go help some cute girls.”

Rin’s eyes were a curious mix of two greens Nozomi thought as the small woman stared at her from her perch on the desk. Eli had just finished shaking Hanayo’s hand and was about to ask a question when Rin spoke, “Just tell ‘em, Kayo-chin.”

“Rin!” Hanayo turned, ignoring the other two women in the room.

“Everybody else you talk to seems to know,” Rin sounded peevish and Hanayo paled. Rin stood, anger altering her pixie cute appearance so she looked feral in the shadows of the half lit room. “Hi, I’m Rin. I’m a werewolf. If I don’t get captured by Kayo-chin’s STOOPID bosses, maybe I’ll rip something off you.”

“Rin.” Hanayo’s voice snapped back fiercely. Eli stepped back, hand reaching for Nozomi.

Rin shrugged, and climbed into the lower bunk bed, “What’s the point?”

Eli squared her shoulders, voice calming. “We’re here to help both of you. Thank you for trusting us with your secret, Rin.”

Rin flipped her hand, tossing off Eli’s offering, “You're scared. Of me. And "They" get to do anything they want.”

Hanayo knelt in front of Rin, “No, they don’t. I’m making copies of everything for Professor Põder. They’ll be expelled; there might be criminal charges. It’ll be a better case…”

“I DON’T WANT TO JUST SIT AND WAIT FOR SOMETHING BAD TO HAPPEN TO SOMEONE…” Rin shouted, hands gripping Hanayo's shoulders. “Maki’ll bite through walls if they do anything to…”

“Rin…” Hanayo hissed, frantic; Rin paled, suddenly nervous.

Nozomi tried to mirror Eli’s posture, with the addition of a mostly truth, “Nico-chi already told me. Don’t worry.”

At that, Rin, though still angry, relaxed and Hanayo’s stir of panic calmed. Nozomi’s curiosity to see Maki in action as a wolf increased.

Hanayo pulled out her chair and offered the bed opposite the bunk for Nozomi and Eli to sit.

Nozomi kept an eye on Rin, while Eli began trying to coax what had happened out of Hanayo.

Hanayo hiccupped, “Two girls took a picture of Rin, we think. Anju has a “lost dog” story posted in some NU social media groups, with a reward. It’s the screenshot of Rin Tsubasa showed me.”

Eli nodded, taking care to continue to exude calm, “So you think they’ll get in contact with Anju?”

Hanayo nodded, hands atremor as she fidgeted, “And if I’m in the picture…”

“Just text Anju that you saw the dog this afternoon.” Nozomi leaned her head on Eli’s shoulder, “At the very least it will confuse them.”

“Sneaky.” Rin said, sounding impressed.

“Yep.” Nozomi waved her fingers in the air as if an invisible card trick were happening, “Delay, staying on the attack, and an honest face are your friends.”

Hanayo gulped, pulling out her phone and looked to Rin who nodded. “What do I say?”

Nozomi moved to lean over Hanayo's shoulder, “Just that you saw the post somewhere and that dog ran up to you this afternoon.”

Hanayo typed with one finger and all of her concentration. Rin sighed and laid back on the bed.

Anju was staring at her phone, eyebrows very low, eyes narrowed and moving back and forth between the text from Hanayo and the email on her computer screen with a jpeg of Hanayo on the Lakefill, next to what looked a lot like the werewolf Tsubasa had been searching for. Anju had posted that picture around, frustrated by Tsubasa’s obsession distracting her from coming up with solutions to the transmitters crashing the Wirtz electrical infrastructure. Anju just needed everything to go exactly as planned once. For that, she needed Tsubasa focused on her problem, not the werewolf. And Koizumi had been too good to be true, it turns out. Now, and pale purple eyes gleamed with the strategies gelling behind them, how could Anju use this to her advantage?

Maki was pacing. In human form. Wolf would be a bad idea right now, Maki was restless enough, the moon still prickling under her skin...damn Neruda...and the nightmare...so many Kashima notes in the air around Nico earlier that Maki could still pick them up, which had led to waking in a cold sweat from a dream of Nico in white gown, offering her hand to a glowing eyed Kashima, who started to transform with a howl when Maki woke up. Nico had mumbled something, but not woken, and Maki had grabbed Nico’s fuzzy, oversized, pink bathrobe and fled to the couch, her heart racing, breathing out of control. At least Nico had put her outfit from earlier in the laundry hamper so Maki wasn’t actively confronted by it. She pulled Nico’s bathrobe up around her mouth and nose, concentrating on taking in as much sense information on Nico as she could absorb. She fell into the couch, kicking her legs in the air, then pumping them as if she were cycling a bike. She didn’t want Kashima to make her crazy; rationally, Kashima was low on the competition scale, Maki had NEVER sensed any hint of attraction from Nico when Kashima was around...but on a more primitive level, Maki was jealous. She pushed the imaginary bike to a sprint pace, legs flying, then flopped out full length.

“Maki?” Nico was standing in the door of her bedroom, nightgown back on.

Maki huffed, “I’m jealous.”

Nico sounded sad, Maki could smell the disappointment, “Nico knows, but…”

Maki flipped on her side, eyes glinting green at Nico, self awareness subduing her tone, “I’m jealous of the time Kashima gets to spend with you, the duet, the work you do together…”

“Oh.” Nico came into the room, sitting on the coffee table once again, “Nico is more interesting than writing papers.”

“Yeah.”  Maki admitted. She had finished the paper, but pre Nico Maki would have considered her effort a rough first draft.

Nico tenderly stroked the line of Maki’s cheek, “That song you wrote for me was better than Porter. Please tell me you’re at least minoring in music.”

Maki sat up, taking Nico’s hand in hers, “We never really had this kind of a talk did we?”

“Nope,” Nico yawned, “There were too many conversations where Nico had to lecture you about taking proper care of your dog. Or wearing warmer clothes. Nico has given up on that.”

Maki laughed as she raised Nico’s hand to her lips, “Hi, I’m Maki Nishikino. I’m a freshman, I haven’t picked a major yet, but…” Maki slid Nico’s fingers so the tips were resting on her lips, “I live for playing the piano. And touching you.” Maki nipped at Nico’s fingers, “Oh, and I howl, very tunefully, pitch perfect, always in the direction of the moon.”

“Not true, sometimes you howl at Nico.” Nico tapped Maki’s nose, then ran her hand up in to Maki’s hair.

Maki leaned in, “It’s your skin that the moon lives in, Nico.” Maki swept Nico’s hair back behind her ear, “You glow. Brighter than anything. You’re amazing.”

As much as Nico thrived on compliments from discerning audience members, this was a conversation train she had to derail. “Nico has an early morning. And has already expressed her appreciation of your songwriting skills.” Nico winked, “Remember?”

Maki laid back down on the couch, robe falling open at the waist, enjoying the delicious mix of want starting to stir in Nico, “I can still feel your...”

“Good.” Interrupting her far too smug and unclothed to be that hot girlfriend, Nico stood, reciting her near death scene lines over and over again in her head, forcing herself to look away from Maki, “Nico likes to be thorough.”

“Nico?” Maki let a plead of a whimper out, her own hand tracing the line of her hip.

Nico turned, but her eyes were on the wall behind the couch, not Maki, “This is an important week to me, pretty girl. You said you’d help. So help.”

Maki started singing, staring at the ceiling,

"I've got you under my skin I've got you deep in the heart of me So deep in my heart, that you're really a part of me I've got you under my skin I've tried so hard not to give in I've said to myself this affair will never go so well But why should I try to resist, when baby will I know so well That I've got you under my skin I'd sacrifice anything come what might For the sake of having you near"

Maki knew Nico was moving closer, and amused, but she let Nico’s kiss surprise her, “We can get much nearer tomorrow night, pretty girl. Come to bed when you’re ready to sleep.”

A quick glimpse into the depths of ruby swirling with so many emotions Maki hadn’t identified yet, a finger tingling from a brief touch on Nico’s bare leg, the smell of contentment and sensuality and comfort filling the air of the room. Not all that Maki’d hoped for, but so much better than the nightmare,

"Don't you know, silly fool, you never can win Use your mentality, wake up to reality But each time I do, just the thought of you Makes me stop before I begin...

Good night, Nico." Maki whispered to herself.

A/N: Right, and now I get this back on track.

[roseonhissleeve]

Have A Little Faith: Chapter Five

“Don't be afraid of your fears.  They're not there to scare you. They're there to let you know that something is worth it.”

- C. Joybell C.

I had to remind myself to keep breathing.

I stood still, fingertips curled around the straps of my backpack and clutching tightly.

Harry wasn’t wearing his beanie this time, his hair sitting on his head with just the right amount of “messy”. The white v-neck he wore was complimented by the dark jeans that hugged his legs. He hadn’t noticed me yet—he was too busy looking up at the art himself, and for a long moment I stood and stared.

I could make a run for it if I really wanted to.

But something kept me glued to the ground, and it wasn’t long before he looked down and eventually saw me.

I watched as a flicker of recognition flashed across his features, and before I knew it he was smirking. One corner of his lips tilted just a bit higher than the other and I could practically see the smugness radiating from his body. I could almost hear his voice saying I told you so.

We stood for a long time, looking at each other. I couldn’t help it—the corners of my own lips twitched into a shy smile, and I raised my hand so I could fiddle with a stray lock of hair that had escaped my ponytail—a nervous habit I’d adopted from my mother.

People milled about (in silence) between our gazes here and there, but his eyes never strayed from my own. Once again, I felt as if he could somehow read everything I was thinking just by looking at me.

I eventually tore my gaze away from his to look up at the artwork again, taking small steps across the room to take a look at some of the frames that I hadn’t gotten the chance to see yet, because I’ll be damned if a boy stopped me from taking it all in while I could.

But I would be lying if I said that I didn’t feel distracted by the way I felt his eyes linger on me long after I’d broken the contact. I nibbled nervously on my lower lip and turned my head to glance over my shoulder, checking if he was still looking.

Yup.

His smile widened to flash a grin in my direction as I made eye contact again, and I had to hold back a small laugh from escaping my lips as I whipped my head away from him.

I didn’t look back as I headed towards the exit, knowing with every bone in my body that he would follow me outside.

I descended the steps from the Sistine Chapel quickly, and the glare from the sun reflecting off of my glasses caused me to look down at the ground as I felt the sun hit my features.

“Yeh trying to run away from me, love?” I heard his voice call out from behind me. I adjusted my glasses a bit nervously before turning to look at the familiar face, and couldn’t help but smile when I regarded the grin that was glued to his lips.

“Nah, I knew that you’d follow me,” I reasoned before adding, “I just can’t believe you followed me all the way to Rome.”

This caused his smile to widen even further.

“It’s fate, jus’ like I said. I didn’t follow yeh anywhere,” he continued, and he tilted his head just a fraction to the side before adding, “I didn’t know you wore glasses.”

I immediately became hyperaware of the accessory that sat on my face, reaching to adjust it slightly before continuing with a light blush rushing to my cheeks.

“Um, yeah. I usually just wear them when I’m drawing, or reading. Sometimes when I get headaches,” I explained. He remained focused on me as I spoke, and I couldn’t remember the last time that someone seemed so interested in what I had to say. I immediately started to take them off, only to be interrupted.

“Don’ take them off just ‘cause I mentioned ‘em, they’re cute,” he said, and a small smile stuck to my lips. I dropped my hands to my sides, glasses remaining on my features.

“So, what do yeh say, Rosie? Do you believe in fate now?” He questioned. I could sense a teasing tone underlying his words, but for the most part his expression was serious. I shifted slightly, leaning from one side to another, pursing my lips before replying.

“Why don’t you take me on that date, and I’ll get back to you?”

His features beamed, and I could see the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly with his smile, causing me to exhale an almost silent laugh.

“Well, alright then…Can I walk you to your hotel?” He asked, eyes laced with hope as he patiently awaited my answer.

“I think that’d be okay. As long as you don’t get us lost,” I teased with a lighthearted grin, beginning to walk in the direction of the place I was staying at.

“I’ve been lost in far worse places, love, believe me,” he replied, which sparked my curiosity. It wasn’t until then that realized that Harry must have travelled all over the world with the band and what-not, and I felt a small twinge of jealously at the realization.

“So, what brings you to Rome? I mean, you could go any place in the world that you want. Why here?” I asked, walking at a slow pace. I kept my hands at my hips as my fingers curled around the straps of my backpack.

“I love the history here. There’s so much—so many stories to discover and learn from,” he explained, glancing over to look at my features after he spoke. I flashed him a smile of understanding. “I’ve been to a lot of places an’ there are certain ones that just make me feel…at peace. The chapel’s one of’em.”

“Part of the reason why I came to Rome was to see the Sistine Chapel,” I chimed in, pleased at the common ground that we’d found.

“So are you religious, then?” He asked, eyes filled with curiosity, and for a second I wondered how we’d skipped right past the small talk.

“Not really, to be honest. My family is. My parents and sisters are a bit more lenient but my grandmother is hardcore Catholic and I think she wishes that I was as well,” I explained, finding it a bit refreshing to have someone to talk to. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed having the company—or maybe perhaps I just needed the right kind. “How about you? Religious?”

He paused again to think about his answer carefully, and there was something I loved about the fact that he always took his time to give me a well-thought out response.

“I guess yeh could say that….I don’t really identify with a single one, though. I’ve studied lots of’em and lots of different beliefs and I think I’m still tryin’ to piece together what makes sense to me,” he admitted, and from the corner of my eye I could see him run his fingers through his cropped locks before continuing. “I do believe that there’s a bigger purpose to all o’this. I really do. I just don’t necessarily believe there’s a big man up there who sets all the rules.”

I pondered his words in silence, brows slightly furrowed in thought as I kept my gaze ahead of us.

“What do you believe in, Rosie?”

His words caused me to think even deeper, my grasp on the straps of my backpack tightening slightly.

What did I believe in?

I’d been through way too much bullshit to still believe in a God, or in everything happening for a reason. If praying could have solved my problems, I wouldn’t be the mess that I am today.

I’d like to believe in myself, I wanted to say.

“I guess I’m still trying to figure that out,” I admitted softly, looking up at his face to attempt to read his reaction. If he was unimpressed he didn’t show it, simply looking down at me and showing a smile of understanding. I hadn’t noticed until then but he was at least a good six inches taller than I was.

“There’s nothing wrong with that at all,” he commented, satisfied with my non-answer.

The rest of our walk was filled with lighter subjects—I told him about Danielle in Barcelona, and how she gave me hell for running away from him when we’d first met. He told me about how he’d been spotted by fans in Monaco and spent almost forty minutes taking pictures, though he didn’t mind doing it at all. I described my new friend Nico, and his parents, and how they’d been kind enough to let me have dinner with them when I otherwise would have been alone. He told me that it’d been a really long time since he’d been alone, and that it was refreshing to be able to travel and just be him, without any obligations to anyone else. I had to admit, I felt a little disappointment when we reached the entrance to the place where I was staying.

“So…” he said as I stopped in front of the door, turning to face him straight-on. I was nervous, although I didn’t know why, and I tugged softly at my backpack straps which still hadn’t left my grasp.

“So…” I repeated, a hint of a smile toying with my lips. “Thanks for walking me back. I had a good time.”

“Yeh don’t think that was our date, d’you?” He asked, an amused expression coloring his features. I had to admit that I wasn’t really expecting anything else, or anything extravagant, but he continued before I could reply. “I’m gonna take you out proper, if that’s okay with you?”

I nibbled my lip nervously at his words, and everything inside of me was screaming no, that this was a bad idea, that I shouldn’t be doing this and that I should just walk away and go about my trip like I’d planned.

Despite all those thoughts, the deeper part of me wanted to do this.

“I think that’ll be alright,” I responded, and the smile that spread across his cheeks made a dimple appear on cheek that I hadn’t ever properly noticed before.

“I’ll be here to pick you up at ten tonight,” he said, and with that he turned around and walked in the other direction, no explanation at all.

“Ten? Isn’t that a bit late?” I called out to him, exhaling a tiny laugh of disbelief as he spun around to face me. He was still taking steps backwards as he flashed his signature smirk.

“What did I say, Ro? Yeh gotta have some faith in me!”

With that he spun back around and carried on down the cobblestoned path, and I watched him for a few moments before stepping into the hostel and walking down the hallway and into my tiny room.

It wasn’t until I walked into the room and looked in the mirror that I realized I hadn’t stopped smiling since I’d said yes.

*

I should have packed more clothes.

The only things that I’d really thought to pack were several pairs of shorts and a small collection of t-shirts and tank tops. There was nothing fancy enough to be going on a date, because nowhere in my mind did I ever expect to be asked out on a date while on this trip. And me saying yes?

Well, that was even less likely.

I exhaled a small sigh as I looked at myself in the full-length mirror that hung on the wall just beside the bathroom. I’d finally settled on a pale green pair of shorts, which were long enough to be fancier than all my other options but still short enough that my legs would be able to breathe in the Italian heat. I’d chosen a white blouse to go along with it; it had pale beige beading that accentuated the dipping neckline and long sleeves that reached to my wrists, but the fabric was thin and loose enough that I wouldn’t be too hot. My hair was up in a half-ponytail, the rest of it falling onto my shoulders and fanning out across my back. It was strange to see my hair down again—I’d kept it up in a ponytail for the entire trip thus far, and even back home I didn’t often wear my hair down.

I didn’t ever have anything to look nice for.

I adjusted my short black dress and pulled down the hem a little bit to cover up more of my legs, not wanting to show too much skin on the first date. I was such a GIRL, I thought to myself, finally forcing myself to turn away from the mirror. My hair was down, in loose curls that framed my soft features and I looked good. I knew I looked good. I wasn’t the thinnest of women, I definitely had a noticeable amount of pudge around my midriff that stuck out every once in a while, but I was comfortable with it. I’d had my insecure phase in the beginnings of high school and gotten past it rather quickly.

I walked over to my bed and grabbed my phone that was resting beside my pair of red heels, checking the time. 7:08 PM.

I took a deep breath as I felt a wave of nausea wash through me. He was only eight minutes late, he could have easily been caught in traffic on his way to pick me up. Get it together, Rachel.

At exactly 7:09 I heard the doorbell ring. I was home alone, which I’d purposely planned so I knew that no one would be there when I was being picked up. I loved my family, but they were a wild, crazy bunch and I didn’t want them scaring Elijah away on the first date.

It only took about thirty seconds tops for me to grab my heels and purse and practically leap out of the room. Within a minute I was opening the front door, and as soon as I saw him I was so nervous I could have passed out.

He was gorgeous. Not your average kind of gorgeous, either. The tall, dark and mysterious kind of gorgeous that every girl wants to sweep her off of her feet. And for some reason he was here, at my doorstep. Hell, I was confident and I loved myself, but I knew that I wasn’t the kind of girl who usually got a shot with a guy like him.

“Rachel…you look beautiful,” he exhaled softly, as if he was reading the last love poem on Earth. His voice was sweet like honey. I could barely meet his gaze I was so nervous, my hands clammy already, and I had my voice in my head telling me to get it together.

“Oh, um. Thank you. You too. I mean. Not beautiful. You look handsome, though.” I babbled on and quickly cut myself off so I wouldn’t say anything else, reaching down to pull my heels on quickly. As I did he leaned against the doorway and watched me, and I could feel his gaze so intensely that it only added to my nerves. Was it normal to puke on first dates? I didn’t think so. What would he do if I did? Fuck my life.

“Ready to go?” He asked once I was at his level again, and I simply responded with a small nod. I followed him out and down the driveway after I locked up, and we were off, the bundle of anxiety in my stomach never receding.

He took me out to dinner at the fanciest place in town, Francisco’s, and had me back home half an hour before my curfew. He asked me questions and I answered them, I asked him questions and he answered those. My nerves never fully subsided, and when I got home I stayed in bed and replayed the evening in my head over and over again.

The funny part is, I don’t remember anything we spoke about the entire evening. All I remembered was that the entire night, I was afraid of doing or saying something wrong.

I heard a knock at my door, causing me to look over and stare at the doorknob for a long time.

I didn’t even know what I was feeling. Of course, I was a little nervous, but there was a constant divide between the part of me that wanted to do this and the part of me that was screaming “no, you’re not ready.”

Harry was charming. And he was handsome, I couldn’t deny that either.

Harry also didn’t know what he was getting himself into.

I jumped a little bit when I heard another knock on the door, and I could sense the hesitance behind it. But my feet were frozen to the ground. I couldn’t do it. I felt a sense of panic rise in the pit of my stomach as I thought about my last relationship and how terrible it had been. Elijah had been charming once. Elijah had been sweet.

But had he really?

“Rosie? Are you in there?” I heard Harry’s voice call out softly, and I thought that I could hear a bit of concern in the way he spoke.

Alright, Rosie. Woman up. You have to tell him you’re not going.

That was fine, right? I’d just open the door and tell him that I wasn’t feeling well. It wouldn’t be that hard, and I’m sure he’d understand.

I finally managed to make my feet move and I turned the doorknob slowly, opening the door to reveal myself finally, and whatever words that I’d been about to say disappeared within seconds.

Because when I opened the door to look at him, what I saw was Harry holding up a single rose to his chin, his features lighting up a little bit when he and I were finally face to face. He was wearing a pair of skinny jeans and a green button up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the green in his shirt making his eyes light up more than they already had.

“Hi,” I said, and despite my previous thoughts I found myself smiling a little. He chuckled a bit, and held out the single flower to me with a lopsided smirk that I’d started to get used to coming from him.

“Hullo, love. This is for you,” he said simply, and I stared at it for a few seconds before taking in between my fingers, smile widening.

“I didn’t know what kind were your favorite so I got yeh a rose. Get it? Because your name’s Rooosie,” he announced proudly, elongating the “rose” in my name in a sing-songy manner.

I couldn’t help but giggle at his words and I looked up at him, suddenly strangely grounded. I wasn’t nervous, nor did I have the overwhelming doubts in my mind anymore.

“I get it. Roses are actually my favorite. So thank you,” I reassured, and when he heard that he’d gotten my favorite right he grinned. I was constantly surprised at how easily pleased Harry was. It was the little things that made him happy.

“May I?” He asked, and I stared at his outstretched hand for a couple of seconds before I realized that he was asking for the flower again.

I held it out and he plucked it from my hand delicately. Before I could tell what he was doing he was brushing my hair behind my ear and placing the flower so that it had a home there.

I watched his face while he arranged my long locks so that the flower would stay, and the amount of concentration he was putting into the simple task was endearing. His brows furrowed just a little bit and then smoothed over once he’d finished, looking back down at my own features when he was content.

“Beautiful,” he confirmed with a proud smile, and I just grinned in response. “Shall we go?”

I looked at him for a moment, at a crossroads.

I could end this right now, relatively painlessly. All I had to do was say that I’d changed my mind, and from what I knew of Harry I thought that he’d understand. I could save myself so much possible pain, and it wouldn’t even be that much of a loss. I’d just continue on my trip and do what I came here to do. I could end it all before it even began…so why did my heart drop when I even thought about closing the door on him?

“Let’s go,” I said with a smile, and he stepped out of the doorway to make room for me.

For the first time in a long time, maybe fear didn’t have to win.

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Break My Heart: Chapter 3 (A Solangelo Fanfic)

I graduated, hurray! And because of that this chapter is late, forgive me! But things are being set in motion at this point of the end of Day 1 in the infirmary, officially. I hope you all enjoy what’s in store (and as always my advice is, reread that dream if you don’t quite remember it, all details are important)! Also, yes, I am very invested in bi!Will Solace, and as such, that does play some importance. Just a head’s up. And yes, remember, this is a slight canon divergent AU, so, things go a little differently in this fic then in canon. But just slightly. 

Enjoy!

Previous Chapters on Tumblr: Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Read it all on AO3

Preview:

“Hi Will, how are you doing, it’s nice to see you too. Oh, thank you Clarisse for asking I really appreciate it,” Will said as he leaned against the desk with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Don’t be a bitch, Solace,” Clarisse told him with a roll of her eyes.

“And deny myself all this fun? How could I?” Will reminded her before sighing. “Yes, Clarisse, Ellis isn’t dying, and I haven’t killed him though he has tempted me constantly. Can I get you anything else with that order? Fries and a shake?”  

“Is Ellis not dying?” Clarisse La Rue asked after she marched into the infirmary. She stood there, tapping her foot to the beat of her annoyance, which Will guessed was cranked up to a solid slow-burning fury (though it didn’t take much to get Clarisse to smoldering rage, maybe a paper cut, an ill-timed swing during a WWE event, or the weather being warm during training would also suffice as a fuse to ignite her temper).

“Hi Will, how are you doing, it’s nice to see you too. Oh, thank you Clarisse for asking I really appreciate it,” Will said as he leaned against the desk with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Don’t be a bitch, Solace,” Clarisse told him with a roll of her eyes.

“And deny myself all this fun? How could I?” Will reminded her before sighing. “Yes, Clarisse, Ellis isn’t dying, and I haven’t killed him though he has tempted me constantly. Can I get you anything else with that order? Fries and a shake?”  

“Haha funny, well if Ellis isn’t dying can he come back with me? I need Sherman to quit whining and get along with our Roman cousins, which, newsflash, is difficult when Sherman is whining.”

“Sherman’s whining?”

“In the way Sherman whines, which is breaking punching bags with his fists at five in the morning. I know this may fuck with your mind, but Ellis actually chills Sherman out. Right now I need optimal chill, like subzero. Me and Zhang are having issues containing our collective natural affinities to kick the shit out of each other, and contrary to popular belief though I appreciate the idea, I am not having a fight club being organized in my gods damned cabin.”

“Okay, you can come with me to go check Ellis. If and only if he is ready to leave will he be discharged, but tell Sherman to come visit Ellis is going stir-crazy too,” Will told Clarisse as he attempted to lead her back with him, but Clarisse being Clarisse marched on her own terms and Will just ended up following behind and hoping she didn’t see anyone she didn’t like.

“Oh thank the gods you’ve come to spring me,” Ellis groaned from his bed as soon as he saw Clarisse. “I thought I was going to murder Markowitz if I had to look at his face for another second.”

“That’s what they all say,” Cecil said with a dramatic groan from over in the corner, giving Will a smile. Ellis made a disgusted face.

“Yeah not so much if Solace doesn’t okay you, though I only wish you were so excited to see me when I try to get your ass out of bed in the morning for practice you lazy son of a cyclops,” Clarisse said, sounding pissed but Will knew there wasn’t any heat in it.  They exchanged insults and complaints, which, in Ares-progeny talk was pleasantries, as Will inspected Ellis’ wounds and felt about his ribs for tenderness.

“Di Immortales Solace don’t push so hard!” Ellis hissed at him and Will raised a brow.

“Ellis, I know that’s you sweet talkin’ me, and I am tryin’ very hard to be gentle with you, but I would appreciate if you were quiet and let me do my work,” Will warned him firmly with a drawl for good measure, meeting his gaze. “I can do a little simultaneous healing and get you out of here now, or, I can refuse and move you into the bed next to Cecil. Your choice.”

“Okay, okay, shit,” Ellis groaned, allowing Will to pull up his shirt and press his hands against his sides. Where Ellis’ ribs had been fractured from a spear’s handle had mostly healed up, just leaving them bruised. Will hummed the melody of a hymn, feeling his power seep into the hurt and calm it, soothe it. Ellis released an unwilling hiss of relief as Will lessened the ache (Ellis had been too proud to accept the pain meds, dumb brave kid). Will pulled away and motioned to Clarisse, who handed him his flask of nectar which he took a swig from. Ellis sat up and moved, testing his range of motion, and Will found it to be satisfactory.

“Alright, he’s ready to go, just don’t get into any arguments,” Will told them and Ellis nearly jumped out of bed. Clarisse clamped a hand on Will’s shoulder.

“Thank you,” Clarisse said.

“Of course, anytime,” Will said honestly. “Shall I walk you—“

“Praetor!” Phoebe’s voice came like a squeak towards the front of the infirmary. Will, Clarisse, and Ellis hustled to the front, to find Phoebe and her healers standing stock still as the Roman Praetor Reyna stood tall and accompanied by Hazel Levesque who was carrying a rather stuffed duffle bag. Reyna’s brows flew up at the sight of them.

“Good afternoon, I did not know it was Grecian infirmary policy to allow patients to wander about without shoes,” Reyna noted, giving Ellis the once over. Ellis, bless his heart, did not flinch but instead puffed up like an insulted rooster.

“And I did not know it was policy for Romans to walk into a hospital fully armed,” Will reminded them sternly, pointing at the weapons cubby. “If you are here for visiting you will utilize the proper procedures as well as turn down the intimidating factor, it would be much appreciated kay thanks.”

“Forgiveness, you must be…?” Reyna offered.

“Will Solace, I’m the head counsellor for Cabin Seven, and head healer at Camp Half Blood,” Will introduced, holding out his hand. Reyna grasped it in greeting, her grip strong and sure. “Clarisse, please, make sure Ellis doesn’t get into any fist fights on the way back to your cabin. I’ll see you later.”

Leaving Will to his own devices with the Romans seemed to be the last thing that Clarisse wanted to do. Say what you would about Clarisse, and Will had certainly said it before, but the girl was loyal to those she thought deserved loyalty. They had worked out a few rough patches over their years as counsellors together on that alone. Clarisse also knew when to let other people fight their own battles, so Clarisse clapped him on the back hard (which may have translated to either, consider Apollo and Ares allies in the next Capture the Flag or don’t die before I have to kill you loser, Will couldn’t really tell) before exiting the infirmary with a glaring Ellis still half-unclothed in tow.

“I’ve come to see how our soldiers are recovering in order to create a—“

“We’ve come to see Nico,” Hazel clarified with a sheepish grin. Reyna cleared her throat, cheeks slightly reddened as if she had been caught sneaking cookies out of a cookie jar.

“Yes, that too. We heard that Nico had checked in, thankfully. We’d been both telling him to get checked out since the battle,” Reyna said, offering Hazel a chiding look that was given mostly in amusement. The other girl made a show of straightening up for dramatic effect.

“I’ll take you back to see him then,” Will said, motioning for them to drop off their weapons (which they both did with varying levels of comfort). As he walked them back, Cecil gave him a look and a smoothing motion that read something akin too: holy shit bro watch what you say or else you might get a foot of Imperial Gold shoved up your ass by two badass ladies who I’d like to be friends with if you catch my drift. Will responded by flipping the bird.

“Interesting bedside manner,” Reyna observed.

“It comes with the job,” Will told her as he stopped flipping Cecil the bird, trying not to be intimated. “Also that’s my best friend so…”

“Do you normally do that with your best friends,” Hazel asked, looking charmingly embarrassed.

“You do when your best friend’s a piece of trash,” Will said neutrally with a shrug. “But he’s my piece of trash. I must remind him of that sometimes.”

They made their way back to the mostly empty section of the infirmary where Nico was currently presiding. Nico was still mostly in the position that Will had left him in, though with the added addition of the IV and the blanket. Hazel immediately rushed to his side, and worried over him.

“What’s wrong—“

“I’m being held against my will,” Nico said with a sigh. There was something gentle in his expression, something akin to a smile on his mouth. Hazel took a breath of relief before smiling back at him.

“What’s the diagnosis?” Reyna asked Will, hanging back, all business.  

“Infection, exhaustion, and general power malfunction. But the IV fluids and rest should help with most of it,” Will told her encouragingly. “How are you feeling, Nico?”

“Cold,” Nico said shortly, with a shiver for emphasis. He was looking heartbreakingly small, thin, tired, and pale against his sheets. Will made a mental note to get him another blanket. If anything, Nico di Angelo looked stretched thin, as if another inch would press him out of existence or a breeze might sweep him away.

“The fluids will do that, let me take a look,” Will said as he held out his hand. Nico, stuck his free hand out to let Will clasp it again. Improvement, small improvement, but improvement nonetheless Will noted. Of course it was only a few hours, but it was enough to let an optimistic smile show through, mostly for Hazel’s sake who was looking seriously worried about her brother. “Better. Incrementally better but that means we’re on the right track.”

“Great,” Nico said with heavy sarcasm, as he looked away quickly and he nearly threw down Will’s hand. Hazel gave her brother a strange look.

Weird, Will thought. This guy is supposed to like me? How? I don’t even know what I did but I think he hates my guts.

“What Nico means to say is thank you,” Reyna seemingly reminded/warned him, Nico only responded by slumping further into the bed like an angry child. It was oddly endearing, which was very concerning.

Will needed to watch himself, maybe get a crush on another equally emotionally unavailable person who he hadn’t had a prophetic dream about so he could at least trick himself that they wouldn’t break his heart. Like on someone like Reyna for example, she was certainly gorgeous, also could kick his ass, and was also very unattainable. Will could totally have a crush on her and get his heart broken because she would probably never even consider him because as some of the Venus campers who had stopped to gossip in the infirmary had reported, Reyna had been making bedroom eyes at both Jason and Percy Jackson for a while now. And as everyone who had seen him in sword-practice would tell her, Will Solace was no Jason Grace or Percy Jackson, so that translated to having no chance. Will understood what unrequited longing and undeserved heartbreak was like, and if Will hadn’t been so attached to the idea of his head being attached to his body, Will would’ve given her a pat on the back in a sign of comradery.  

“We came to let you know that most of the legion are out of the infirmary. Phoebe let us know that in the next day or so the rest of them will be released and we’ll be heading back to Camp Jupiter—“

“And also to visit you,” Hazel reminded Reyna again with a laugh.

“Yes, we also wanted to see how you were. Are you going to be coming back with us?” Reyna asked curiously, her head tipped to the side and causing her dark braid to fall off her shoulder.  

“As much as I would like to say yes…I don’t really foresee a lot of black togas in my future,” Nico noted with a sigh. “Even though they were a striking fashion statement.”

“It was also nice to see you out of your ratty clothes and looking professional,” Hazel teased and her brother gave her a well-worn look of exasperation.  

“Excuse you, I’ll always take comfortable over fashionable.”

“And godliness over cleanliness?” Hazel said with a roll of her golden eyes.

“Okay, listen, it wasn’t my choice to show up in that shirt it was all I could find—Solace, stop cackling!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Will said as he tried to clear his throat. He hadn’t even realized he had been laughing until Nico had pointed it out. Reyna gave Will a curious look, before returning her attention to Nico. Which confused Will again. Had his laughter been so weird?

“Don’t worry, I brought a present,” Hazel said as she showed her bag that she had brought into the infirmary. Hazel pulled out a few shirts, varying shades of black and grey as a demonstration from the bulging bag. “I asked some people to donate. Only white and grey scale colors, maybe one navy, but I know your aesthetic.”

“You shouldn’t have,” Nico said, his gaze was almost unreadable but there was something vulnerable in his eyes—which were oddly colorless. “Hazel, you really shouldn’t have—“

“Oh hush,” Hazel told him as she reached out to brush his hair from his forehead. “Nonsense. It was nothing.”

“We thought it would be only appropriate considering the circumstances,” Reyna said as she took the seat on the other side of him.

They continued to chat with Nico and Will kept to the background, minding his own business as he changed out bedsheets. He checked on the quickly emptying infirmary and all the recovering inhabitants (including Cecil, who he warned off from any unfortunate romantic misadventures). Phoebe was still half-panicking in the front, and Will gave her a look and a job to complete to keep her mind off the fact that two of the highest ranked and regarded warriors of their generation were in the same building as her.

“I don’t understand why you are freaking out,” Will asked Phoebe who took a deep breath after they finished cutting portions of ambrosia.  

“I don’t expect you to understand, but it’s like the CEO of a fortune 500 company coming to a side branch,” Wren, one of Phoebe’s half-sisters scoffed.

“Listen, she’s like our age. She seems pretty normal to me. Like, it’s great you respect her, but there isn’t a point in getting one’s panties twisted up about it,” Will pointed out to her. “You don’t see me getting bent over backwards over seeing Annabeth Chase or something.”

“Easy for you to say. You are basically the equivalent of a Centurion here,” Phoebe pointed out. “You are allotted a certain amount of respect automatically, you are on the same playing field as the great heroes.”

“Centurion?” Will asked curiously.

“We have our Cohorts. Each Cohort is run by a Centurion, so, you are basically the Centurion of your cabin,” Phoebe explained before sighing. “Not that you wouldn’t be considered in the running at Camp Jupiter for a legitimate Centurion position if you came to New Rome with us.”

“Wait, what does that mean—“

“Will Solace?” Reyna’s voice called as she and Hazel appeared. Phoebe and Wren stood up rod straight until Reyna dismissed them with a tired wave. Will stood up a bit more slowly. “I’ve heard from some of the other Legionnaires that you performed emergency healings and saved many of them, even without hymns or assistance.”

“Yes, though I prefer not to. It’s tiring,” Will said with a shrug. Reyna blinked, seemingly filing away that knowledge for later.

“Well, I just wanted to officially extend an invitation to New Rome, and know that our resources are yours. Phoebe has written glowing reviews in her report, and seeing the infirmary itself shows me that you are a great leader,” Reyna explained before giving a softer smile. “And I can already tell that Nico has improved. So, as a friend, I must thank you. Keep Nico as long as necessary, and if necessary please call me. I can always talk some sense into him.”

“I think I can handle myself, it’s all in a day’s work. If you ever find yourself or anyone you know injured on the East Coast, just holler,” Will said as he reached over to give her a handshake. As soon as Reyna had finished, Hazel Levesque nearly bounced over to hug him. Will couldn’t help his smile as he accepted it.

“Thank you so much, and don’t let Nico bully you!” Hazel said firmly, as if she believed her brother had every intention of being troublesome.

“I’ll survive. But if you could do me a favor? Make sure Frank knows that Clarisse is having a hard time reigning in her cabinmates, and there has apparently been talk of a fight club,” Will told her.

“What’s a fight club?” Hazel asked, her eyebrows furrowed worriedly.

“Not on my watch will there be. I’ll take care of it,” Reyna said as she cleared her throat. “Thank you again.”

And so Reyna and Hazel both left the infirmary, leaving a much relieved cohort of Roman healers behind them. Will, as always, organized the dinner in the infirmary to be assured that all demigods had their nutritional needs met, and making sure to swipe two platters before going down the hall once more. Nico was laying back dozing again, understandably exhausted.

“Dinner’s served,” Will told him, and Nico opened one eye and looked at Will with all the enthusiasm that he probably would have mustered if Will had just told him that he had hired a mariachi band and a clown for Nico’s super sweet sixteen.  

“I’m not really hungry,” Nico told him with a sigh, and to be fair, the kid looked pretty drained. Will settled the plate on the bedside table.

“Good news is, I just got you a sandwich and some potato salad. It won’t go cold or anything, so eat it at your own pace,” Will promised him and Nico seemed relatively relieved that Will wouldn’t be force feeding him, as if he had been in that situation before, which made his heart break a little bit. “Would you mind if I checked you out?”

“Alright,” Nico said, offering his hand which Will took. Will couldn’t help but notice that Nico’s entire arm twitched as if he had just been shocked with static.

“Sorry, is that uncomfortable?” Will asked him worriedly, attempting to reign in the desire to try to rub some heat into Nico’s frigid fingers. Will had a feeling that Nico might bite him involuntarily if he tried something like that.

“You are hot,” Nico muttered, before immediately gaping like a fish, eyes wide with panic as the flashed around the room looking for an exit. “I mean—I mean—“

“I do like to think I run hot. Son of the Sun God and all,” Will could help but joke with a laugh.

“Don’t let your head get full of hot air. You might burst,” Nico grumbled, embarrassed but looking relieved. Will was still grinning as he let his power wash through him once more. The shadows were still lurking there, but nothing too concerning. His body was already fighting off the infection that had taken hold of his cuts, and the resting was helping out. But there was a lingering heaviness that still had to be addressed, something that Will knew was more mental then physical, though as Will had often discovered the two bled into each other.

“Progress already,” Will reported, very pleased. “Now we have to keep it going that way.”  

“I hope so, I’ll die of boredom if I’m stuck here longer then necessary,” Nico groaned.

“If you would like, I could send a message to some of your friends so they can come visit you. Hazel and Reyna aren’t the only ones who would like to see you I’m sure,” Will pointed out to him, and Nico’s expression was suddenly guarded and tight.

“They know where I am,” Nico said with an odd amount of frustration. “Why should I tell them to come visit? If they want to see me they’ll come.”

“Hey Nico, let me let you in on something,” Will said as he sat down beside his bed, while still trying to give Nico space. “And I don’t want you to take this as me being condescending or something because it’s not. But people don’t know what you are thinking or feeling unless you say something, that goes for everyone. Sometimes you have to say something to be seen the way you actually are. If you leave people to guess, then you can be misconstrued.”

“That’s stupid,” Nico argued but the defense seemed weak, and Nico frowned. Will couldn’t help but give him a small nod.

“Yeah, it is. Also, you won’t be seen as weak or something because you want your friends to visit. Gods know I’ve had a very similar conversation with Kayla before,” Will explained with a fond chuckle. “And I was the same too. I cried when Michael didn’t visit me when I got a concussion. I found out after that because he accidentally gave me a concussion on the lava wall, and he thought I wouldn’t want to see him and I was mad at him. When Lee came in and saw me blubbering, Lee dragged Michael in to the infirmary with a vengeance. It was all a misunderstanding, you know? But communication was key in resolving it.”

Will couldn’t help but let out a laugh at the story, remembering how much a mess all three of them had been. That was the thing with Apollo kids, they were all dramatic in their own ways and they couldn’t help making a scene sometimes. It had all been rather silly, but the fond memory made his cheeks hurt from his smile. Nico watched him with something like fascination, as if trying to physically absorb his advice so he could use it another day.

“Your brothers, right?” Nico asked with a strange look in his eyes, as if he was focusing on something at a far distance through Will. The intensity of the gaze made Will feel like heat was crawling up his neck and he was forced to look away. Not good. Not good. Holy Hera that expression was cool in an awesome comic book superhero kind of way, like Nico was some gunslinger off to seek retribution for ill-deeds. “Both were heroes, and judged to be honorable enough to find a place in the Elysian Fields.”

“Yeah…I know,” Will said as he shook free his errant feelings, a bittersweet feeling welling up in his chest. “Thanks.”

“Well…I…” Nico said awkwardly, the strange authority slipping away to reveal the boy his age underneath who seemed anxious to turn the topic away. “Could you pull out some of the clothes in the bag? I want to see what Hazel gave me.”

“Sure, of course,” Will said as he fumbled for the bag, reaching in and feeling a smooth, cool texture.

Will pulled out a leather jacket. A leather jacket he recognized, as suddenly for a moment he was taken back to that dock, to that lake, to that moment of rejection. His breath caught in his lungs at the intensity of the déjà vu.

“Oh cool,” Nico said as he snatched the jacket from Will’s numb fingers and admired the black leather with more interest then Will had seen from him this whole time. “I needed a new jacket since mine got all ripped up.”

Oh gods this isn’t good this is happening this is a thing that’s happening, was Will’s first thought. The second being: I’m screwed.  

[animeman-xyz]

Hi friends today let us talk about one of my favourite character from one piece kind of relationship they may have ,cause we have seen many animes whose love between characters was a completely different and more entertaining  topic for the fans then the original manga story.

  THe fairy tails nalu ( natsu and lucy ) , Gray and juvia , Gajeel and Levy their are many kinds of stories in mangas where the partners and teammate gets turned into lover and then get married in the end of the manga and many kinds of rumor also spread regaring which charcter may fall in love between which charcters there is love going on like their being many stories regarding laxus x juvia, laxus x mirajane , Laxus x Lisanna and many more stories regarding laxus and his love partner but still till now no actual Connection has been seen with him.

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Naruto also had many kinds of love story taking place throught the series their were many rumor in starting regarding naruto x sakura, Naruto x hinata but we all know who he married in the end it was Hinata Hyuga and his crush Sakura was Turned out to becoming the wife of his friend Sasuke thier were some stories regarding Sasuke love as well like Sasuke x Sakura , Sasuke x Karin, Sasuke x Ino in the starting of the anime but cant say what may happen in the anime world.

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And just like all these love stories between anime characters we also have charcters from one piece whose love stories may turn out to be stories they tell thier own grandchilds or they may just stay as friends and fan fiction of their love may once again bloom .

So in one piece up until now their are some love stories regaring who may turn out to be whose lover and life partner from the same crew of straw hats and as their are many reasons for us to think about that the love or flirty nature of sanji towards Nami may actually turn out to be a real life relationship between them Sanji x Nami as we have seen their is some feeling of love in Sakuras mind towards Sanji .

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But then once again their can be talks about Sanji and Nico robins As we but I will Say if Robin Actually falls in love with any straw hats that would Be between luffy or zoro.

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The reason of this is that luffy is her saviour who saved her from the attacks of marine and made her feel like she is not a devil but a human just she had some really bad luck and the other person who may take the place of luffy is Zoro .

IN the starting when robin Joined the Straw hats crew except luffy no one in the crew had trust on robin but with time their we many occasions where we had seen zoro saving robin from many dangerous situations and where their came the talk about them being a secret lover well the story of nico robin a childs whose everything was lost away from her whose life was full of misery may actual fall in love with the devil with 3 swords .

Zoro Always seems like a person who is happy in himself and the only goal in his life is to become the strongest swordsman of the earth and their was a person who he loved in his childhood Kuina was was the daughter of his master who died in his childhood with whom he had promised to not stop until he has reached the top of his swordsmanship and In my opinion  robin in going to replace the place of Kuina from Zoro Hearts .

Their are even some Fan made stories regarding the love of zoro and Robin one is down below;

with links to more zoro X Robin Lovestories

https://www.wattpad.com/138296278-zorobin-part-1

https://www.wattpad.com/story/115482117-if-i-fall-a-zorobin-fanfic

https://www.wattpad.com/story/134023160-from-swordsman-to-zoro

https://www.wattpad.com/story/156756130-os-zoro-x-robin-%C2%AB-lib%C3%A9r%C3%A9e-par-la-mort%C2%BB

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/3160628/1/Love-Story-in-Harbor-Zoro-x-Robin

  “Love Story in Harbour” It was night time and it has been a month since they got off Skypiea. The people in the small village danced around the fire with the music. Luffy was at the corner gobbling on some food. Sanji was at the other side flirting with some girls. Nami was checking out the gold and the villagers sweat dropped as Nami’s eyes turned into a Belly sign. Chopper and Ussop was at the ship fixing it, Zoro and Robin watched them dance around. Zoro walked beside the archaelogist who seems to be thinking about something. He arched his eyebrows and, “What’s wrong with you” Robin snapped back to reality, “Uh, what?” Zoro walked over the table and sat down. “What’s with that face.” “What face?” she asked confusingly. “That.” he responded. “There’s no face Mr. Swordsman, this is my face, that’s all.” she replied. “Yeah.” he said sarcastically. Robin sighed and sat down beside him. “I’m just sad about something and it really bothers me.” she said sadly. Zoro sat up and faced Robin. “And what is that thing that bothers you?” he asked firmly and softly. She didn’t respond for a long time. Zoro peered at her face…the shadow of her long black hair covering her eyes. Zoro sighed and, “Hey, i’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring that up.” he said. He watched Robin but she didn’t move. He waited for her respond but there was nothing. Surprisingly, he was really patient about this. “I don’t belong here.” she whispered and looked up. Zoro’s eyes widened as he look on her eyes. He smirked, “You’re weird.” and with that, Robin was confused. “It’s simply impossible. If you think you don’t fit in our crew well then you’re wrong.” “What do you mean, Mr. Swordsman?” “Luffy is a weird guy. But whenever he’s nakama feels something, he finds a way to make you feel better. He knows whats best.” “I know this may sound awkward but…we’re always here beside you. You’re not alone.” he said. Robin smiled warmly on Zoro which made him blush. But before Zoro could talk, “Wha-” there was an explosion. “What the hell-!” he yelled. “It came from the ship, Mr. Swordsman!” The two of them rushed to the ship and found Usopp and Chopper standing still and smoke coming out from their bodies. “Oi, what happened here? And why does it stink!” said Zoro covering his nose. Usopp coughed a puff of air. “I’m gonna kill that idiot!” yelled Usopp with a sharp teeth and a clenched fist. He stomped angrily to the island and looked for Luffy. “So how was the party, guys?” asked Chopper. “It’s great.” replied Robin happily. A big grin crept on Chopper’s face and happily ran away from the ship to the island. “Where you going?” asked Zoro. “To the island! Watch the ship while we’re gone guys!” and Chopper’s voice trailed off. “Oi wait!” called Zoro. “What is it you’re gonna ask, Mr. Swordsman?” “I forgot to tell him to bring beer ” and Robin couldn’t help but smile. “So what are you gonna do?” asked Zoro. “Nothing.” Zoro shrugged, “Me too.” The two of them looked at the bright moon and Robin glanced on Zoro. “Mr. Swordsman…”  Browse Just In Communit y Forum Bet as Story Search Anime/Manga (/anime/)  One Piece (/anime/One-Piece/)  +  –     “Hmm?” “Would you like to take a walk?” asked Robin politely with a smile on her face. Zoro wanted to say no but he was so bored and he didn’t feel like sleeping. “Sure. I guess that would be fun.” and both of them got off the ship. While at the island… “Luffy!” yelled Usopp and Luffy gulped. He walked over to Luffy and, “What did you do on the “Impact Dial!” Luffy grinned, “I farted on it.” and Usopp froze. “Why did you do that?” asked Usopp. “I have nothing to fart on.” “Then why don’t you just fart in the air! That would be better!” “Really? But Nami finds it gross.” “What do you think is more gross Luffy?” asked Usopp tryin to be calm. “Well…” said Luffy and thinked. “Forget it…let’s have some fun!” “Sure!” and both of them joined the dance. While back to Robin and Zoro…they peacefully walk to the seashore as the small waves clash throught their bare feet. And both of them sat on a huge rock. There was a long silence between them. Robin looked up the sky and Zoro looked at her. The full moon was glimmering in her eyes in the darkness of the evening. They haven’t talk for half an hour. Zoro took a deep breath and, “What’s wrong with you now?” and Robin looked at him, “Nothing.” Zoro nodded on her respond and there was a silence going on again. Now it was Robin’s turn to talk, “Mr. Swordsman, why do you want to be the world’s greatest swordsman?” she asked trying to strike up a conversation. He sighed, “Because it’s something I like. What about you? Why are you so interested in this history thing?” and Robin smied. “I wanted to find the Rio Poneglyph and discover the True History.” “Yeah. We all have dreams. Wanting to map the world, finding a stone with weird writings on it, being a swordsman, finding a stupid ocean, wanting to be the greatest doctor, being brave or whatever…and finally…the Future Pirate King of the Grandline.” and Robin smiled sweetly on him. “Maybe we should get back. It’s getting late and there’s no one guarding the ship.” said Robin. “Right.” and they walked back to the ship. “So what are you getting Nami for her birthday?” asked Usopp to Sanji. “Nami-san? When is her birthday?” “I think it’s 2 days from now.” and Sanji panicked. “What! Why didn’t you tell me earlier! I have to find something.” said Sanji going to a store. “What was that fuss all about?” asked Zoro from behind. “Uh, i’m just asking Sanji what will she get Nami for her birthday.” “What!” yelled Zoro with his voice all high. He cleared his throat and, “What!” and it’s still the same. “Did I did not tell anybody about this?��� asked Usopp. “Well you told me, Mr. Doctor and Mr. Captain.” said Robin politely. “Usopp. Have you seen Luffy?” asked Chopper looking around. “No.” replied Usopp. “I think he’s here somewhere, Mr. Doctor. I just saw him talking with a man.” “Chopper!” yelled a drunk Nami. “N-Nami?” asked Usopp. She patted Robin’s back and, “So…how’s the relationship going on with Zoro?” asked Nami. Zoro heard it and jumped up. “What!” yelled both Robin and Zoro. “Oh look at you two together…so when is the big day?” asked Nami drinking the beer. “What, what big day?” asked Chopper confused. “You know. Their wedding.” “What!” yelled Zoro, Chopper and Ussop while Robin sweatdropped. “Alright! That’s it Nami. How drunk are you?” asked Zoro. “What are you talking about! I’m not drunk.” and she walked to Usopp and whispered, “I’m lying. I am so drunk.” “Yep! That’s right! Your Nami slash Navigator (Nami/Navigator) is so drunk tonight! Good night…” and Nami passed away on the ground. “She’s had so much alcohol.” commented Usopp. And Chopper freaked out, “What! Too much alcohol can poison the body!” “Did you just notice that?” asked Zoro. “Yes! I got something for Nami-san!” yelled Sanji happily. He walked over excitedly to the group without noticing Nami on the ground. “Do you think Nami-san will love this, Robin-chan?” asked Sanji showing a gold bracelet. “Yee-ha! Let’s party!” yelled Luffy from behind. He walked over to the group with his grin on his face with a golden necklace on his hand. “Luffy, what’s that?” asked Ussop. “It’s a gift. I’m giving these to Nami on her birthday.” he said. “What are you guys gonna get?” asked Luffy to Zoro and Ussop. “Grr! Where did you buy those?” asked Zoro irritatingly. “Does it have to be jewelry or gold stuff?” asked Usopp. “Mr. Long Nose, have you just met Ms. Navigator?” “Oh man!” Usopp complained and followed Zoro. “So Nami…” said Luffy and looked down. He looked at a statue that looks scary and looks exactly like Nami. “N-Nami! What’s wrong! You don’t look good! Oi! Something’s wrong with Nami!” said Luffy. Sanji kicked Luffy in the head and carried her to the ship with Chopper and Robin. An hour past and the party was over. The Straw Hat pirates took off at dawn.

Zoro X Robin | What is Going Between Them Hi friends today let us talk about one of my favourite character from one piece kind of relationship they may have ,cause we have seen many animes whose love between characters was a completely different and more entertaining  topic for the fans then the original manga story.