#v pleasant anyway after a few laps i sat down and read some

[thequietabsolute]

potential epitaph: was rarely accurate though frequently plausible

[tsukuna]

Side by Side

Summary: You wandered into Red Grave City to warn the "Legendary Devil Hunter" of a certain... negative shift in the area's energy. It was an energy you knew to be demonic, and it grew stronger by the day. But on your way to meet with the intermediary, a noisy bird caught your attention. A noisy bird that would bring you to a frail man on the brink of falling apart.

Rated M • Female Reader • Before the Events of DMC V• Under the Cut • Part 2

The backstreets and dark alleys of Red Grave City were a seedy sort. There were assaults and robberies aplenty, and yet it was there you slinked around. It wasn’t like you were too good for such a sketchy area or anything, you also carried a hidden dagger on your person. Experience told you that was at least one precaution someone had to take. Something was about to change in Red Grave City though, you could feel it prickling on your skin.

In the couple days you had been in the area, you managed to locate a man by the name of Morrison--a man who would help you meet a devil hunter. The two of you scheduled a time to meet once more at a quaint bar to further discuss the issue you were bringing to the plate; however, that time wasn’t till later in the evening and there was nothing you could do to kill time. Any money you had was to be saved for the job ( hopefully the intermediary would buy you a drink at the bar ). And so you walked around, kicking rocks and passively looking about.

When you first saw a dark bird flying about in the sky, you thought nothing of it--until it began to talk. Your eyes squinted incredulously. The fuck? Clearly, this ‘bird’ was no bird. Quickening your pace to follow it, you whistled and called to it, “Hey!” Considering it stopped in place, you guessed you caught the creature’s attention. At that moment, it turned into a mere shadow falling down, and a short moment later, it perched itself upon your shoulder. Ah, a demon.

“Babe! ( Babe?) You gotta help me!” The demon squawked, his voice reminding you very much of a cartoon. It continued to speak after you quirked your brow at it. “I got a dying guy over there! Come on!” If he could’ve dragged you by the arm, he would have. You sighed in resignation and followed, nodding for the demonic bird to lead the way.

The destination was an abandoned, destroyed building that reeked of demon blood. Your eyes caught sight of a collapsed man, who you assumed to be the ‘dying guy.’ Again, the bird was blabbering about something, but you let it fade into the background noise. Cautiously, you made your way to the boy with black hair, hand on your dagger. It was unnecessary though. The man was truly out cold, his body shivering, sweating, and covered in demonic fluids.

You sat beside his body, gently pulling the man’s head onto your lap. You brushed the ebony hair away from his face. Cute. With a deep breath, you focused yourself and reached your hand out over his abdomen. “He’s not in good shape. What the hell happened to him?” You furrowed your brows.

“We were fighting demons and he worked his little body too hard!” He paused, “Is Shakespeare gonna live or not?” Was that actually the man’s name?

“I think so,” you affirmed, “I will do what I can.” Once more you reached out, pouring your own vitality into the cracks of his fractured energy. It wasn’t the most comfortable of procedures, so you hummed songs to keep your mind off the unease.

“Babe, just what are you,” the bird sat on your shoulder and questioned.

“Shh,” you put a finger to your lips without even bothering to look at the source of the voice and continued singing softly. You were not only too busy healing the man, but also trying to figure out just what he was. There was a faint demonic energy inside of him, but everything else appeared human--perhaps even weaker than that. You weren’t quite sure why you were pouring your energy into healing a seemingly doomed person, but it simply felt right--not that you ever cared what was right before.

It must have been nearly an hour before you were done working and certain that he would live through the toll his body had taken. However, he still laid there unconscious, and so you continued to sit there and idly ran your fingers through his hair. “He will live,” you softly spoke.

The demon let out a sigh of relief, “Thank fuck. Though I have to ask, how did you do that shit?” You explained the process without giving away just what you were. Considering you stumbled upon the two just that day, there was no trust there and there wasn’t a chance in hell that you would spill your secrets to strangers.

The chatty creature seemed disappointed in your answer, but pushed it no further.

Next to the man’s body lay a book with a ‘V’ on the cover. Curious, you reached out and picked it up. It was a book of poetry you noted as you skimmed through. Shakespeare indeed. You began to read. After all, there was currently nothing better to do, and considering the fact that it was still light outside, there was plenty of time till you had to meet with Morrison.

After a time of reading long enough for you to get over halfway through the book, a groan came from beneath you. Finally, the man had woken up. The atmosphere certainly became more awkward as he once again gained consciousness. With an uncomfortable smile, you let out a tense, “Yo.”

Dark green eyes blinked a few times and looked back at you with shock and suspicion as he shot up to a sitting position.

“You sure gave me a scare!” The black bird exclaimed before the man could address you. “Thought you were dead for realsies.”

“I just ran out of power,” the stranger spoke in a low, groggy voice, still looking at you out of the corner of his eyes.

“And that still means death to us right now, so be careful,” he responded. Ah, this demon must be his familiar.

The two of them talked further while you sat by watching. Finally, the man focused on you. “And who are you,” he warily questioned.

After you gave him your name, the bird butted in. “Babe here--”

“Don’t call me babe.”

“Sorry. This lady here is the reason your sorry ass is still alive!” This time, he flapped his wings and perched on your head, an action that made you frown. The dark haired--and tattooed, you noticed--man quirked his brow.

“I suppose I owe you a gratitude,” he spoke once more. If you had to admit it, it was quite a pleasant, handsome voice.

You shrugged. “I think this demon here would’ve scratched my eyes out if I didn’t try after walking all the way here.” The chatterbox wasn’t wrong though. I’m almost certain he would’ve died without aid. “Oh, I assume you’re V,” you guessed due to the initial on the book and slid it over to him. “Hope you don’t mind that I read some while waiting for you.”

He appeared to be thinking before responding, “Yes.. my name is V. I hope its contents are interesting.” V began to stand up but it seemed his legs weren’t ready to support him, so he nearly tumbled over.

Quickly, you reached out to pick him back up. “I’m more of a fan of prose,” you admitted, as you assisted him, “but I can appreciate poetry as well.” V was back and steady on his feet, to which he offered a nod of thanks. A moment of silence passed by. “So can I ask what the name of your talkative familiar is?”

Said familiar materialized from the ink of V’s tattoos, “The name’s Griffon.” Much to your surprise another creature formed as well. “And this girl here is Shadow.”

You looked at the demon who took the form of a panther with glowing red eyes, and she looked back at you. Your eyes widened as she brushed herself against your legs like a house cat, which wasn’t a bad thing. Tentatively, you reached forward and scratched the creature behind the ears, a gesture she appeared to enjoy.

Once again, a pair of dark green eyes (much like the colors of a forest) were staring at you rather intensely. “Looks like you’ve got some interesting company,” you tried to lighten the atmosphere.

“Damn right he does!” Griffon squawked.

“I’m a bit jealous, I must say. It has been me, myself, and I for many long years,” you said with downcast eyes. “I think this is the most interaction I’ve had in quite some time.” V merely nodded at your comment, to which you sighed. I won’t get much out of this guy.

A loud groan and gurgle came from V’s stomach, cutting the tense feeling. You couldn’t completely suppress your giggle. “I’m hungry myself.” It was an honest comment. “Wanna find something to eat in Red Grave?”

“I don’t have any money,” he replied, looking to the side with a chagrined expression.

You knew you really needed all the money you had to pay Morrison to pay the devil hunter, but you made an offer anyways. “My treat as long as you don’t expect anything expensive.”

“I already owe you a debt, and it seems I’m about to tack on another expense,” V sighed.

“Don’t worry,” you laughed, “I don’t expect anything. Not that there’s anything you can do to repay me for your life anyways,” you winked.

The comment actually garnered a small smile from the man. “Let us be off then,” he gestured forward. “I should be able to walk just fine now,” V reassured you with a spin of his cane as you moved closer in case you had to catch him again.

The two of you walked in step with one another. Despite it being quiet, you were actually quite comfortable. It amused you when V was the one to break the silence. “What are you?” He asked, still looking forward.

“Hmm,” you hummed as you pondered upon your answer. “How about instead of answering straight up, I propose a little game.” Finally turning to look upon your face, V quirked his brow. “We can do a little quid pro quo. You tell me something about yourself, and I’ll tell you something about myself--and vice versa, of course. The only catch is that our answers must be equivalent to what the other said,” you explained, pointing a finger in the air.

V grinned. “Fair enough.” Again, the two of you fell into silence once more.

Deciding to get the ball rolling, you piped up, “I’m in the city to find a devil hunter. Perhaps you’ll think I’m crazy, but something is coming.” It was a comment you said in all seriousness.

His reply astonished you. “I am as well. I hope to enlist the help of the same devil hunter before the damage comes to pass.”

“Perhaps we should continue being together for the day if that’s your goal. I’m meeting with the intermediary today,” you clarified.

“I hate relying on others,” V put a head to his forehead. “But I agree that is for the best.” You nodded in agreement.

Again, you found yourself in the back streets of Red Grave City, but this time, you were with a companion. You absent-mindedly fiddled around with your most precious treasure--an intricately twisted black-metal ring set with a blue opal. But it wasn’t long before a woman’s panicked voice brought you back to reality. The two of you peeked around the corner to see three men robbing a woman. You took a step forward, but Griffon opened his wing ahead of you.

“Things will get messy if you get involved. Stay out of it.” He then warned V, “And you’re not a demon. If you get shot, you’re dead.”

The men demanded her necklace. “Please, anything but that… It’s a memento of my mother,” she nearly sobbed. But she gave it up as one of them put a gun to her head. You felt a sense of disgust bubble up in you as you thought of your own memento, the ring. V seemed to share your sentiment as his face paled and brows furrowed.

Suddenly, V was slipping, knocking over a trash can and catching the people’s attention. “I should have fed you some mice after all!” Griffon screeched. It wasn’t long before the men began approaching V. You slowly began to reach for the dagger hidden in your boot; however, you tsk-ed at the fact that guns are certainly faster than knives. One of the thieves continued to threaten your tattooed companion over money he didn’t have (you were footing the food costs, after all).

Your eyes widened as the man smashed V in the face with his gun. You rushed and held him before his head could smack across the concrete. “Ha ha. You’ve gotta treat yours and your girlfriend’s life with more care…”

The sound of flesh being pierced hit your ears, and a rush of sharp, black tendrils continued to lash out. “That’s my line,” V coldly replied. “And it looks like you’ve put it in a bad mood.” The black matter continued gurgling, bubbling, and growing around you two. Repeatedly, it punctured the three men’s bodies. Their cries of agony rang out. Soon enough, they were bloody and debilitated.

“Huh, neat,” you softly spoke. V bent over to begin picking up the money, and you followed suit. Three thuds and a cries of agony sounded behind you. You looked over your shoulder to see them lying in pools of blood.

“Why are you moaning like it hurts? It’s just a dream,” V looked at them with disdain in his eyes.

Your gaze turned to the original victim who was trembling with fear. “Stay away stay away stay away!” She screamed. “Please don’t kill me! I’ll give you money.”

“That money is already ours, nobody’s asking for your--” You squeezed Griffon’s beak shut as V carefully dropped her necklace in front of her. Did she even notice? Or was she too busy shuddering? You didn’t really care about the answer, and soon enough, both of you were turning and walking away.

“You look kinda angry,” Griffon pointed out.

Putting a finger to your chin in fake thought, “His expression is pretty sour, huh?” You laughed with the bird. V only sighed and kept walking. Curiosity swelled up in you. “Are those guys gonna die and bleed out or somethin’?”

“And if I said yes?”

You shrugged. “Can’t say I care all that much. It would be a bit hypocritical of me.”

V simply stared at you for a moment. “You’re… amusing.” The compliment surprised you.

A laugh passed from your lips. “I don’t think anyone's ever said that about me. I think people find me to be more along the lines of scary.”

“Hard to find the person who saved me scary.”

“You just haven’t seen enough of me yet,” you gave him a wink. “Ah, there!” You pointed to a burger stand. “It’s probably cheap as shit, and now we have some extra cash to actually get separate meals. But first, let’s clean this up.” You brought your shirt sleeve to his face and wiped the blood off him. “Much better.” It was soft, but you were pretty sure you heard a ‘thank you.’

As one would expect from fast food, the two of you finished the transaction quickly and found a wall to sit against. It didn’t take long for you to dig into your food, starting with the fries. On the other hand, V sat there examining his burger. A confused expression took over your features. “Is there a problem?”

“I don’t want to get sauce on myself,” he stated matter-of-factly. You snorted and even Griffon came out to laugh.

“Seriously, that’s your damn problem?”

“I don’t want to be dirty.” Despite his words, hunger seemed to have won the battle of eating versus worrying about sauce. V had predicted it correctly though--sauce did indeed drip on his pants. Silently, you set napkins in his lap. “Thanks,” he said through a mouthful of food.

As the two of you finished your meals in quietude, you took notice of the darkening sky. With a stretch, you stood up and shook your legs out. Noticing he was still sitting down, you offered your hand to V. He stared at it for a moment, but took it anyway. You flashed him a soft smile. “We should probably get going if we hope to meet with that man Morrison today.”

Making your way to the bar, you observed more and more things about your partner for the day. Firstly, he didn’t need his cane--for walking at least. Other than his moments of fatigue, his gait was entirely normal. But if he didn’t need it for walking, what did he need it for? Secondly, you noticed that when his familiars Griffon and Shadow emerged, the ink of his tattoos came out with them; however, some color remained. Did that mean there was another you had yet to see? There was no denying that V was a man of mystery. You reached the bar before you could ponder further.

“You comin’ in?”

V shook his head. “I’ll wait out here.”

“Alright, shouldn’t take too long,” you nodded to him. You squinted as you stepped into the dimly lit room. At the bar itself, you noticed a man in a hat. It seemed like he was trying to keep a lower profile, so it was likely that that was your man. “Morrison?” You approached him.

“Ah,” Morrison called out your name. “Nice to see you again,” he shook your hand then lowered his voice. “So you have a job?”

“Yes, it is very important that I see this Dante. I have the money,” you showed the bills to him. “Oh, and I also met another man who wants to propose the same job to him,” you added.

“Is that so?” This Morrison man did seem surprised by what you said. He turned around to say goodbye to the employees. “Let us be off then.”

You and Morrison exited the bar, and you reunited with V. “It’s all set up,” you informed him, to which he nodded in response.

Soon enough, the three of you arrived at your destination--Devil May Cry. Morrison went ahead of you two to deliver the job to the legendary hunter Dante. Your gaze turned to V, but he appeared to be having an inner dialogue going on. Eh, I don’t care to interrupt. It was V who broke the silence. “Are you ready to go in?”

“After you,” you gestured, pulling the door open. A mere moment after, you finally looked upon what would (hopefully) be the man to take on your job. Dante was a ruggedly handsome man with silver hair, blue eyes, and a bit of stubble. All in all, he was pleasant to look at, even if his eyes were full of skepticism as he sized you and V up. Dante’s gaze flicked up to Morrison once more though when he told the devil hunter that he was bringing two other people onto the job. The notion seemed to offend him, but he took it with a huff anyways.

A quiet moment passed. “Alright, so for starters… What are your names?” You offered yours up then looked to V.

“ I have no name; I am but two days old…”

Both you and Dante looked at him strangely. Oh, I see. He's reciting a poem. You recalled the pieces you had read while waiting for him to wake up.

“Just kidding. You can call me ‘V,’” he said with a seemingly amused expression before closing his book.

“Okay then you two. Why don’t you tell me everything about this job?” Dante wore an expression that seemed to scream boredom.

You turned and allowed V to explain the situation. “A powerful demon is about to resurrect, and we need your help, Dante.”

“Ha!” Dante exclaimed. It was a reaction you were not expecting. “Now that’s a familiar tune.” He began listing off the requests he’s been given with a certain cockiness. “All of them were kind of a let down.”

“This is special…”

“What’s so special about this one?” You were curious yourself, you didn’t realize how much more V knew about this situation than you did. You were acting on feelings and intuition, but this ebony-haired man seemed to know the issue intimately.

“This demon is your “reason,” V continued, “Your reason for fighting, Dante.”

Dante was quiet before asking, “This demon got a name?”

A smile graced V’s lips. “Vergil.”

[skvaderarts]

Happy Holidays everyone! For once in my life, I’m actually geting a holiday post out on the day of the actual holiday! Can you believe that because I know I can’t! Anyways, I stayed up until 7 am on Christmas morning to get this done, so I hope you like it!

It’s about time Vergil got some love, damn it!

READ BELOW (Hiden to save long post scrolling sanity)

P1: To Reciprocate What Was Given

Note: In an attempt to get something DMC related prepared on time for once to celebrate a major holiday, I stayed up until 6 am on Christmas Eve night to get this done. This is just a short introspective dabble to celebrate the festivities. It takes place in my AU, but that honestly has very little bearing on what's going on overall, but you can think of it as a follow up to my one-shot "The Rest is Silence" as having read that first will make this more enjoyable since it references an event in that fic. You can find it on my Ao3 page. There will be a part two for New Years that will hopefully be a little longer, but for now, happy holidays and enjoy the short.

If anyone had told him that one day he and Dante would be sitting in the living room of the Devil May Cry office surrounded by friends and family who were eager to celebrate the holidays with them, he would have thought them insane. He and Dante had not fostered a healthy relationship with one another their entire adult lives. Why would the holidays change this? If anything, the occasion seemed, at first glance, to be a perfect opportunity to drudge through the bottomless lake of bad memories and regrets that the twins shared collectively between them; a perfect opportunity for misery and suffering. And yet the only thing at this party that could pass for true misery was V trying to get into a festive mood and not grow like moss on the wall in the far corner. Parties just were not his thing, regardless of how comfortable he was with the people involved.

No, Vergil was almost having a good time tonight. Not quite of course. Joy was utterly beyond him at this point. But he was, daresay, content with the way things were going at present. Nero and Kyrie had hauled Kyle, Carlo, and Julio with them from Fortuna, Lady showed up to show off her new outfit, Trish had just about physically dragged V to the house from his comfortable perch on his couch at home, Patty had stopped in to drench the house in awful neon pink adorned gifts, and Morrison had stopped by to wish everyone a pleasant holiday and drop off a purposefully ironic fruit cake that absolutely no one was going to eat. Ok, V was going to eat it because he was peculiar, but he didn't count for that very reason. But that was beside the point.

For the first time in what had to be the better part of his life, Vergil had nothing notable to concern himself with. Kyrie had made dinner, the children were keeping Nero busy, the girls were fulfilling their new roles as pseudo wine aunts, and V was... well to everyone's shock, he was helping Kyrie cook dinner. No word yet on his capabilities. Vergil had survived in the underworld for nearly two decades. V's aforementioned cooking skills (or possible lack thereof) wouldn't be the end of him. Maybe he was content with the presence of his children, or just so tired of pizza that anything would suffice at this point. At this moment, he honestly didn't care. This was the first time he had a reason to acknowledge the holidays since he was the age of Nero's oldest child, and that was quite literally a lifetime ago.

At that moment, something stirred him from his idle thoughts. He glanced over at Dante who was sitting reasonably close to him on the couch. And by reasonably close that meant sitting on the same couch to start with. His younger twin had slumped over on the arm of the sofa, sleeping as if to actively defy the ambiance in the large, festivity filled room. He was not the source of this sudden change in the space's atmosphere. Vergil pivoted his gaze back around to the floor in front of him and mentally chastised himself for somehow managing to overlook someone standing so close to him.

It was V.

The slender young man stood before him with his back to the rest of the guests in the room, a look somewhere between anxiety and anticipation on his face. For someone so akin to a wordsmith, he was clearly searching for the right words. His change in demeanor wasn't so much obvious as his mannerisms were easy for Vergil to pick up on. It took the perceptive eye of a nonverbal recluse to read another with any degree of ease, and he had always had a knack for this sort of thing. He couldn't be sure if it was the number of people crammed into the building, the lack of private places to retreat to, of the awful sweater that Trish had somehow blackmailed V into wearing, but the younger descendant of Sparda was noticeably crawling in his skin.

Just as Vergil was going to ask the white-haired poet what he wanted, he retracted his arm from behind his back and produced an overly wrapped gift. The box was clad in shiny metallic navy blue and gold wrapping paper, bound with gold and silver weapon, and topped with a black bow, a set of color choices that did not go unnoticed by the eldest son of Sparda. Vergil cocked his neck to the side thoughtfully as he took in the sight of the box. What on Earth...

"... May I join you...?" V gestured towards the plethora of open space between Dante and Vergil as the couch was longer than the most.

Vergil gestured towards the space with a silent tilt of his head, still taking in the fact that this situation was actually happening. After taking a seat and managing to retreat even further into himself than he already had up until this point, V handed Vergil the neatly wrapped box and leaned forward, clasping his hands together in his lap. Vergil accepted the gift and turned it over in his hands a few times as if he were trying to memorize every fold of the paper and centimeter of ribbon. It was almost a shame to take apart something so flawless.

Vergil dismantled the wrapping paper at the seams, deliberately taking it apart with the same precision and care that had gone into wrapping it. This somehow flattered and terrified V in equal measure, and he was starting to get the impression that Vergil was trying to elicit this very reaction from him. When he finished unwrapping the box, he opened the box and stared.

Inside of the box was an ornate metal covered book with Sparda's sigil inlaid into the cover. slotted into a label window was a rectangular piece of parchment paper with the words "family photo album" scrawled into it. He could tell by the weight that Vergil moved to open the book and then hesitated, unsure if this was the correct time before electing to simply open the cover. The first page contained a photograph of an all too familiar family painting and superimposed into the inside cover was a quote in what could only be Sparda's handwriting.

"Amor vincit omnia.

Improvidus, apto, quod, Victum.

Citius, altius, forties."

Vergil sighed and closed the book, placing it down onto his lap. "... Where did you get this?"

V gestured across the room towards Nero. "We were delving into the ruins of Redgrave, and Nero managed to find your childhood home. This was in the remnants of what I think was a Library. I can only assume it has otherworldly properties, considering the number of fires it has survived. I suppose we both found, though it was never truly lost. Consider it a gift from us both, though I am not sure it was ever ours to give."

He considered V's words for a moment before looking back down at the book again as if to make sure it was real. He would have to reminisce over this with Dante when he woke up. "Thank you. This is..."

Kyrie cut in from the kitchen, shouting something about whatever dubious project the two of them had been concocting together under the guise of cuisine. V nodded thoughtfully and stood, politely excusing himself to go attend to his prior engagement. "You don't have to tell me. I understand." He gestured towards Nero and then towards Dante. "Tell them."

As V exited to room, Vergil made eye contact with Nero from across the room. He gave a simple, appreciative nod towards his son, thoroughly perplexing him before turning towards Dante. His hand lingered over him for a moment before he elected to wake him. The younger twin sat up groggily and stretched, clearly unamused. "Vergil, what's your pr-"

Vergil extended the hand that held the book out towards him, stopping Dante dead in his tracks. "A gift. It might be worth your time, brother."

Dante stared at it and shook his head in disbelief. "You know what? It just might, Vergil. Maybe there's some pictures of you looking like a dumbass in there that I can laugh at."

Vergil rolled his eyes and smirked ever so slightly. Of course he would say that.

End Note: I guess this turned out to be longer than I originally figured it would be. I wrote all of this in a grammar checker, but I'll do a second edit run when I've actually slept. I'm sure I've missed something. And as for that Latin bit, each line is a quote. I won't ruin the surprise for you. Go check it out! Happy Holidays and thank you for an amazing year of support for an amazing franchise! I can't wait to see what 2020 has in store for us!

And yes, Nico was at the party. She was just hiding in the kitchen with Kyrie!

[fanfic-inator795]

RotTMNT Oneshot: Winter Nights

Summary:  It can be hard dealing with all the snow and the cold, especially for four little turtles. But, even the harshest times of the year can still bring light and joy - their father will make sure of that.

((This story is also posted on AO3. Unfortunately I can’t provide a link since Tumblr’s still being weird about links showing up in tags, but if you can, please hop over there and give this story a kudos or a comment. Anyway, enjoy! ^v^))

Even with how deep they were underground, he could hear the wind howling above. His hearing was much sharper now, thanks to the mutation… Though, if he was being honest, he was more thankful for the warm fur covering his body than the increased strength in his senses. Especially now, with four small, cold bodies clinging to him.

Lou Jitsu sighed, watching his breath form a cloud in front of him before evaporating. Taking a moment to pull the thick blanket tighter around him, he then started absentmindedly petting the head of one of his boys, though he wasn’t really sure which one. Not that it really mattered, he was pretty sure none of them could feel it anyway.

He had been afraid - completely and utterly terrified - the morning he had been unable to wake any of his sons up. However, a bit of research gave him some relief, and he prayed that they would all wake up as happy and healthy as usual once the hibernation season was over. But until then, all he could do was hold them and keep them warm.

“What I wouldn’t give for a kotatsu right now,” Lou mumbled, resting his tired head against the cold metal of the sewer pipe, “Or maybe just a strong drink…” If only he could fall into his own hibernation… Just fall into a deep, peaceful sleep and forget all his troubles.

Underneath the blanket, he felt a couple of his sons start to shiver. So, he sat up and hunched over the small bodies in his lap, protecting the baby turtles as best he could.

Above them, people cheered and screamed despite the cold, with the bright lights and the city-wide celebration being more than enough to tempt most into braving the harsh winds and frigid temperatures.

()()()()()()()()()()()

“Why’re we so sleepy all the time now, Papa?”

“Because it’s winter,” Lou answered simply, “And you are turtles. Turtles get sleepy in the winter. Remember that picture book I gave you?”

Donatello pouted. Of course he remembered, he had read that book back and forth looking for answers, and had only found simple statements. “But why? Why do we have to be so sleepy in winter?” He stumbled forward, clinging tightly to his father’s robe and acting more like the youngest of their family rather than the second oldest. “It’s not fair… I don’t wanna sleep…”

Lou patted the softshell’s head. “I know you are frustrated, Purple, but winter will be over soon.”

“Not soon enough,” the boy pouted. Knowing he wouldn’t be in the mood to walk, Lou picked him up and carried him over to the heat lamp that had been set up in the corner of the small, stone room. The lamp had been a miracle of a find, as were the small space heaters he had managed to discover and fix up before the city dump had been almost completely covered in snow. But, even with there being plenty of heat sources, it still wasn’t warm enough to keep his boys awake, nor were the lamps and heaters comforting enough to keep them from wanting to cuddle up next to their rat-dad at least once a day.

As he got closer to the cuddle pile, he could see that Donnie wasn’t the only one awake. While Mikey and Leo were happily sleeping the season away, Raphael was lying on his back, looking restless and annoyed. Lou made sure to give him a couple pats as well.

“Why can’t we move somewhere with no winter, Pop?” Raph asked. He tried to stand up, but only managed to sit up before flopping back down on his stomach.

“The only parts of this country that are warm this time of the year are miles and miles away,” Lou tried to explain, “And by the time we arrived there, winter would be over, and it would be time to go back home.”

“I know what that’s called,” Donnie said, perking his head up slightly, “From the book! It’s called… migrasin, or something...”

“Well I wanna migrasin!” Raph demanded, giving his father the sternest (yet sleepiest) glare he could muster. It was adorable, but Lou held back a smile, not wanting to make the four year old’s mood worse.

“Maybe next winter. Now come on, back in bed, both of you.” There were a few protests and a couple sobs, but eventually his two oldest sons settled down, sleeping alongside their brothers as their father began singing a simple Japanese lullaby to them.

Still, as his gentle voice echoed through their temporary home, the rat-man couldn’t help but feel pity for his sons, and hoped that this year’s winter would be a short one…

()()()()()()()()()()()()()

“...They sorta look like… sparkles.”

“Yeah, cold sparkles! How does somethin’ so small make it so cold?!”

“I think it looks pretty!”

“And look, it turned into water in my hand!”

“I thought you already learned that, Dee.”

“I did! But this is the first time seein’ it happen! And if it gets cold enough, it’ll turn back into ice! Isn’t that neat?!”

“Yeah, it’s really cool. Ice cool ~”

“Booooo.”

“What are you boys doing?” Lou - now called Splinter occasionally by his kids - asked. He tried to look stern, but amused smirk still crept onto his face as the turtles sheepishly moved away from the open sewer grate. Thanks to the bright light from the street lamps, he could see small flakes of snow fall through the grate and onto the metal floor of their sewer domain.

“We were just… checkin’ out the snow,” Raph explained, kicking his foot slightly, “Cause, I thought it was just rain, an’ then Leo said that he thought it was snow, so we had ‘ta double check and… We wanted to see the snow.”

“It’s really pretty!” Mikey repeated, his eyes practically sparkling. Splinter chuckled. He had a feeling there would be quite a few snowflakes drawn on the walls of their home in the next few weeks, courtesy of the young box-turtle artist.

“And so small!” “Really REALLY small!” the twins exclaimed. “It’s so weird!” “But so cool!” “Stop using that joke, Leon!” “Make me, Don- *yawn* nie…”

The rat’s smile fell slightly. “...Come on, you four. Home is just down this pipe.” And this time, he would be standing behind them, to make sure there was no more wandering off. Though, just because he could only see their backsides didn’t mean he couldn’t still see their disappointment…

As soon as they were in their home, he gave each of them a sweater or hoodie to wear to bed before sending them off to their rooms. With a bit of luck, winter wouldn’t completely hit for a couple more weeks, giving him time to prepare - and his kids a bit more time to play. But…

“It still won’t be enough,” he mumbled to himself, his ears folding down low.

New York winters were particularly harsh, it seemed. Always cold, always lasting for months, and never turtle-friendly - especially not for turtles who were old enough that they didn’t need all day naps. Turtles who were old enough and energetic enough to desire more than just a couple hours a day for playtime, especially now that they were starting to discover various interests and favorite things to do. Turtles who were absolutely miserable this time of year, no matter how much comfort Splinter tried to give them or how many Christmas decorations he scavenged in order to bring cheer to their home.

He clenched his fists, tail twitching slightly in agitation. He had to do something about this… He needed to do something for his boys! Rat or not, Lou Jitsu certainly wasn’t about to let this cruel season hold his family hostage for yet another year!

So, as soon as he was sure his boys were tucked in and sleeping away, he got to work.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()

It was late, nearly midnight, but even the lively Big Apple seemed to be at peace. Most of the city’s citizens were tucked into their beds, grateful that there was no evening snow to shovel. The sky was clear as well, with there only being a slight icy breeze felt in the air. Still, as pleasant as the weather was, it was still winter - still a season of snow and ice and freezing cold.

Naturally, this cold was felt throughout the vast urban landscape, even in its deepest sewers…

“Daaaad, why do we gotta go out tonight anyway?” Leon pouted. He leaned on his twin, who begrudgingly refrained from pushing him away, if only so he wouldn't have to take his hands out of the sleeves of his coat.

Splinter glanced back at the boy, his eyes slightly hidden under the cabbie beret he was wearing. “You said you were bored, did you not?”

“Well yeah but, that doesn't mean I wanna help with chores…” Leo quietly retorted. Sure, he hated being stuck all season, but whatever his father was planning didn't exactly seem like a great alternative.

“Me neither… Especially when it's so cold above,” Donnie added, already bracing himself for the bitter cold as he and his family began walking into the tunnel. He tucked his chin under his scarf, wishing that he could go all the way inside his shell like his youngest brother could. “We should’a waited until I finished my new machine! It'll be able to dig through dumpsters and junk yards for us so we don't have to get our hands cold!”

“Then it is a good thing that tonight is not a scavenging night.”

The two five year olds blinked. ...Well, this made sense, they supposed. After all they still had plenty of food, as well as a couple toys they had managed to find. And thanks to their father having spent weeks gathering up abandoned costs and blankets for them all before the real snowstorms started to hit, there was nothing else they really needed. “So why are we going up then?” the purple turtle inquired, not liking being confused, “And WHERE are we going?!”

“You shall see, Purple One. Just a bit longer, our destination is just a few minutes away.” His rat ears perked up slightly as another one of his sons groaned.

“But why can’t you just tell us where we’re going, Pop?” Raph complained, crossing his arms.

“Because it would ruin the surprise.”

“Ugh…” Raphael kicked a stray chunk of ice, making sure to kick it towards the sewer walls so it didn't hit anyone in his family, and smiling just a little when the ice shattered on impact. “I still wanna know though…”

“I just hope it’s somewhere fun,” Leo added, thinking about all the trips they would take during the warmer seasons to places like the park or a restaurant or a mall, both to learn how to sneak around and to enjoy themselves without humans bugging them. Not like now, where they were just stuck inside their home half the time and trapped under a heat lamp or a blanket for the other half. “We haven’t been to the city in for- eeeeeever! ”

“I promise you boys that it’ll be well worth the effort,” Splinter insisted. He carefully stepped around a small puddle of ice, and used his tail to give his sons a path to follow.

“Papa knows the best places ever,” Mikey stated confidently as he easily grabbed his father’s thick coat and began to climb up onto his shoulders. As much as they helped with keeping him from getting too sleepy most of the time, the thick material of his parka and the clunky boots on his feet made it a bit harder to be as bouncy as he usually was. Thankfully he - as well as the rest of his brothers -  had gotten a couple weeks to get used to moving around in their new every-day attire. And even if he hadn’t, Mikey’s grip and balance were as perfect as ever, even at only the tender age of four. Splinter had no doubt in his mind that his youngest would grow up to be quite the acrobat.

As he nuzzled his father’s warm fur, Mikey asked, “Is it still going to be winter where we’re going?”

“Yes, Orange,” the rat said simply, “Of course.”

“Oh…” And just like that, Mikey’s enthusiasm for this secret destination disappeared, his mood falling in line with his grumpy and reluctant older brothers’. “...I hate winter,” he mumbled, face still pressed up against Splinter’s furry cheek. Splinter held back a sigh, and stretched up his tail, using it to give his youngest son a comforting pat.

All of his hard work - all of his prepping and scavenging, getting every they would need, listening to the weather report several times a day as he waited for the perfect night - it would all be worth it. He was sure of it.

“Do you boys know why winter is so cold?” he asked as he looked down their metal path. He could begin to see light.

“‘Cause of all the snow!” Donnie answered immediately, “And wind, and ice, and all that other bad stuff!”

“Very good, Purple - except for that last part. Winter is not completely bad, it is just another season. Another part of life.”

“Yeah it is!” Raph lightly argued, “It’s always all cold and wet and- and cold!”

“True, winter can be tough to get through,” Splinter nodded, “The cold can be dangerous, if you aren’t prepared… But, there can be bright spots to this season.”

Leon tilted his head in confusion. “Like what?”

But Splinter didn’t give an answer. Instead, he simply said “Oh look, we are almost there.” Thanking his lucky stars that their new home was so close to a park, Splinter took them up to the entryway of the pipe where metal met snow, and watched as his sons’ expressions turned to ones of awe and amazement.

To them, snow was just the white stuff that fell from the sky and made things cold, the mysterious force that forced them to stay underground whenever it first started falling. Other than letting it fall into their open hands for just a moment or two, they had never really seen it up close. They had never seen what it looked like on the ground - and had certainly never seen this much of it! Entire fields of it, stretching all the way to the trees and sidewalks on the edge of the park as it sparkled in the light of the bright moon above.

“Whoaaaaaaaa…”

“Mm-hm,” Splinter nodded. He gave them all an encouraging smile as he took a hand out of his coat sleeve and gestured towards the winter wonderland. “Your gloves and booties should protect you, so go ahead and try-”

“WHOO!” In an instant, Mikey leapt from his father’s shoulder and right into the snow. He fumbled a little, nearly slipping but catching himself just in time. “Whoaaaa, it really is snow!” Curious, he put a hand to the snow, and with a squeak he pulled it away. It really was cold! But also soft… He put a hand to it again, this time scooping up an entire handful. It was like cold sand! With a laugh, he threw it up and let it rain down on him. Sure it was still cold, but the warmth of his clothes as well as just the excitement of it all kept him wide awake.

“Looks like Orange has the right idea,” Spinter smirked. His older children looked on, their own curiosity growing. One by one, each turtle stepped out into the snow, exploring how it felt in their gloved hands and under their feet while Mikey continued trying to do spins and flips in it, not caring if he slipped a little.

“So, this is all the snow that fell from the sky?” Leo asked, looking back at his father, “All clumped together? I didn’t even know snow could do that!” No wonder it made things so cold! But it was so pretty too, and so- so-... White! Definitely a shock to a five year old red-earred slider who only ever knew the dark colors of the sewers and the warm colors of his blankets and his father’s robe.

“It’s cause the ice that snow is made out of sticks together better the colder it gets!” Donnie grinned, the gears in his little mind already turning as he picked up his own handful of snow. “It really is like water, like how a puddle just gets bigger the more rain you put in it. It just all stays together, see Dad?!”

Amused, Splinter put a hand to his chin, feigning surprise. “How interesting! You know, I believe you can turn water into steam as well, once it gets too hot. Water is a very fluid element, you know.”

“I wonder what else I could turn water into…” Donnie mumbled, bringing the handful up to his eyes and examining the snow crystals carefully. Splinter expected nothing less from his clever Purple boy. He made a note to himself to try and ‘borrow’ a book from the library on the water cycle and other weather phenomenon for his son later.

Raph meanwhile, had made his own discovery. “It tastes a lot like water too,” he commented before taking another bite of his handful, not minding the coldness off it too much, “Crunchy water…” When he noticed his brothers giving him a bit of a look, he just shrugged. “It looked like sugar! I thought it would be yummy!”

“Soooo, what do we do in the snow now, Pop?” Leo asked. If the snow covered all the grass and trees, then it probably covered up any play equipment at the park too, so what else could be done?

Splinter, remembering all the various snow days from his own childhood very clearly, gave a grin. “Well, Blue, since you asked…”

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

“I’m gonna get you this time, Leo!” “Nuh uh! I’m gonna get YOU!” “Heh, you gotta catch me first!”

Snowballs flew through the sky one after the other, most of them falling flat onto the earth rather than hitting their target. Leo could dodge and evade like nobody’s business, but he had a bit of trouble with throwing far, and half the time he’d throw them upwards and end up hitting himself with them. As for Raph, he would keep trying to make the “biggest snowballs ever” in between attacks, not caring how many times they’d crash to the ground, not getting anywhere near his brother.

But it hardly mattered, really. Raph and Leo still continued to laugh and chase after each other, neither of them keeping any sort of score.

“Raphieeee!” Raph turned to see his baby brother waving his arms at him. Practically a whole army of snow angels had been formed in the field behind him, complete with stars and pictures drawn beside them.

“Whoaaa, cool!” Raph grinned, “I wanna try!” Letting himself go limp, the snapper fell back onto the snow, and began moving his legs and arms. With a much bigger back and thicker limbs, the angel didn’t come out quite as clean as Mikey’s, but he was still proud of it.

“Now your angel and mine can be friends!” Mikey beamed before turning to his blue brother, “Hey Leon, you wanna make an angel too?”

Leo breathed out a cold breath and rubbed his arms a bit. “Maybe later, Mikey. I wanna do something first.” Knowing instantly what Leo was going for, Raph and Mikey followed his lead back to where their father sat with his carefully packed tote bag beside him.

Splinter hummed. “More hot cocoa?” he guessed. The boys nodded enthusiastically, making him chuckle. “Alright, but remember to share, Blue” he said, reaching into his bag, “This is the last of it, and then you all will have to have soup instead.”

“Kay!” Leo took a couple sips before passing the thermos along. “Hey Donnie, d’you want- WHOA! Donnie, are you making a snow machine or something?”

“No, it’s a snow turtle!” Donnie explained, pressing a bit more snow onto the back of his creation, “It’s like a snowman - that was what Dad made when he was a kid - but wayyy better, cause it’s a turtle. Come on, I’ll show you guys how to make one!” Quickly finishing up the cocoa, the three of them cheered and ran over to their purple brother, eager to learn how to make this amazing thing.

As for Splinter, he just continued to watch his sons play and actually enjoy the season for the first time in their young lives. It had, indeed, been very much worth it…

However, as clearly as he could see the happy grins on his boys’ faces, he could also see the young reptiles start to shiver. Even with all the layers of clothing and warm things to drink and eat, they couldn’t stay out there forever. Still, there was one last thing he wanted them to experience before calling it a night…

“This is gonna be AWESOME!” Raph grinned, gripping the edge of their ‘ride’ tightly. Mikey nodded, having to force himself to sit still and not hop up and down in excitement, as per his father’s request. Donnie stepped in next, looking a bit more cautious. His twin seemed to share the same concerns, glancing back at his rat-dad.

“And you sure this is okay?” he asked, “An’ not something crazy people do?”

“Hmmm, well, I’m PRETTY sure.” “Daaaad!” Splinter laughed. “It is completely safe, Blue, believe me.” The hill wasn’t too steep, and there were no trees or rocks in sight. It was the most perfect sledding spot he had ever seen! “It’ll be alright,” he insisted.

Admittedly curious, Leo finally stepped on, making sure to huddle up next to his brothers and leave plenty of room on the trash can lid for Splinter to sit down on it. “Okay,” Splinter began, giving a toothy grin. He placed his tail on the cold ground as he wrapped his arms around his boys. “Hang on, all of you! Ready… aaaand… GO!” His tail pushed against the snow, and in an instant, they were off!

He heard the boys yelp, but within seconds they were all laughing and shouting in excitement, grinning as they flew down the hill. Still keeping his tail out, Splinter steered them, allowing their makeshift sled to weave back and forth, and even hop off the ground a couple times!

“Faster! Faster!” his children cheered, hollering and putting their hands in the air. So, Splinter leaned forward, increasing their speed. Maybe he could try out a couple tricks too, he thought to himself. A couple spins, or-

The lid hopped off the ground once more, hitting an unseen bump that Splinter hadn’t been expecting. As such, his arms weren’t wrapped quite as tightly around his turtles as they should of been. And, as their ‘sled’ came back down to earth, time seemed to slow as he watched his youngest fly off of it.

“MICHELANGELO!” Splinter cried out with a gasp as the box-turtle landed. However, instead of stopping dead (Splinter cringed. Bad word choice, very bad) in the snow, the young orange acrobat instinctively tucked into himself and rolled until he was safely on his shell.

“Woo hoo!” Mikey cheered, his body - and his own makeshift ‘sled’ - easily keeping up with his family’s speed, “I’m sledding! I’m sledding!”

“No way! Go Mikey!” Hey, I wanna shell-sled!” “Me too!” Before he could even try to stop them, each one of his sons backwards dove over the side of the metal lid. Even Donnie was daring enough to try it, knowing that the small backpack stuffed under his coat would easily protect his shell. And, just like their baby brother, each of them began to scream and laugh with delight as they slid down the hill.

“...Oh, what the heck?” Splinter mumbled, his grin returning. He crouched down, and- “ HOT SOOOOUP! ” he howled, jumping headfirst into the snow and leaving the trash can lid behind as he rolled away from it.

Unbothered by the splashing snow - unbothered by the cold or the wind or even winter itself - the five of them slid and flipped and spun and cartwheeled to their hearts’ content, until finally slowing down as they reached the bottom of the hill. Yet even as they laid there, their joyful laughter still couldn’t be contained.

“I LOVE winter!” Mikey yelled as loud as he could, his brothers enthusiastically agreeing with him. Still laughing as his heart continued to race - Goddid he miss this feeling, though it felt even better now that he was sharing it - Splinter gathered up his boys, hugging them close. “See? It’s just as I said,” he said, a bit breathless, “Lots of good things about winter!”

“Yeah!” “Uh huh!” “Lots of good things!” “I LOVE WINTER!” The turtles laughed again, still smiling even as their joy mellowed out and fell back to earth like snowflakes in the night.

Unsurprisingly, all the excitement had completely wiped them out, and Splinter had a feeling that even with heat, they’d still end up sleeping for a couple days straight. Even so, as he carried three turtles in his arms and one on his back through the icy sewers, he found he didn’t have any regrets.

Their wet parkas and booties were taken off as soon as they reached their home, instantly replaced with cozy sweaters and hoodies that Splinter had left sitting near one of the space heaters. “Come on, little ones,” he cooed, guiding them towards their rooms, “It is way past your bedtimes.”

“Hey, Papa?” Leo said suddenly, his voice quiet as he rubbed his eye.

“Yes, Blu-?” Leo grabbed onto him, hugging him tightly. His brothers quickly followed, their smiles strong despite their fatigue.

“Thanks for making winter fun,” Leo finished, nuzzling his stomach, “It was really fun...”

“Of course,” Splinter nodded, happily returning the hug, “I am glad to hear you all enjoyed it.”

“Can we go play in the snow again later?” Raph asked, nearly cutting himself off with a yawn.

The rat man hummed. It probably wouldn’t be for a while. There was a snowstorm announced for next week, with harsh wind chills after that… But after tonight, there was no denying that even the harshest conditions could still have perfect nights.

With a soft smile, Splinter answered with “...I suppose we could make nights like this a tradition.”

()()()()()()()()()()()()

“You got it all ready, Mikey?”

“Yep!” Mikey proudly lifted up the tote bag. “Two thermoses of soup, three of hot chocolate - and all in different flavors!”

Raph grinned, nodding. “Great job, bro. Now-”

“I’m telling you, Leon, my sled is Olympic-level quality!” he heard Donnie argue as the rest of their group (save for one member) walked into the kitchen, “There’s absolutely no way you’re going to beat me in ANY race. Period!”

“Dude, not only do snowboards beat sleds any day of the week, but my snowboarding skills are LEGENDARY!” Leo insisted, completely unphased by his twin’s boasting, “Come on! Everyone knows it’s not the equipment, it’s the champion that uses it.”

“Tc’ch, yeah,” Donnie rolled his eyes, “Just make sure you don’t slip and fall flat on your shell again, Champ.”

“I mean, if you ask me,” April smirked, her old green and gold sled already tucked under her arm, “I think I’m gonna kick both your shells, but that’s just me.”

Raph shook his head at the three of them, though even this old debate couldn’t bring his mood down too far. (Especially once he saw Mikey sneaking some gingerbread snickerdoodles into the bag.) “Hey Pop! You ready to go?”

“Just a moment, Red!” Splinter asked, his eyes still glued to the fabric screen in front of him, “You know how I like my holiday specials!” Though, it seemed that even the holiday spirit wasn’t enough to convince the scorpions to be docile, pinching away at the poor contestant and destroying his chances of winning a season’s worth of Christmas cakes and fried chicken. Chuckling, Splinter finally turned off the tv and began getting dressed, his ears open to the conversations the rest of his family was having.

From what he could hear, Mikey was planning some sort of ‘snow sculpture masterpiece’ while Raph was already egging Leo on for a snowball fight after his, Donnie and April’s race down the hill. April was insisting that they also had to try ice skating with her now that the pond in Central Park was finally frozen enough, and Donnie sounded eager to try out some new invention of sorts along with his high tech sled.

Splinter’s smile softened. Maybe he didn’t do much during them these days, other than sipping cocoa on a bench and occasionally hitting one of his boys with a surprise snowball for laughs (had to always keep them on their toes, after all). Maybe leaving his comfy chair and going out into the cold with his aging joints was a bit of a pain. Quite a bit of a pain, actually. And maybe - no, certainly - his family was old enough to go have fun in the snow without any supervision from him.

Still, Splinter found himself unable to give up their tradition. Not as long as his family still enjoyed it, still enjoyed his company, and not as long as it still brought smiles to his sons’ faces even in the coldest weather.

So, he bundled himself up, and followed his family down the cold sewer tunnel and into the light of the moon and the sparkling, pure-white snow, fully expecting another perfect snow night.

THE END

[jjkmagic]

Lazy Morning - SpardaWeek Day2

Title: Lazy Morning

Pairing: Dante/V Rating: E

Word Count: 3,433 Summary: There were many things Dante had yet to get used to after the whole Urizen disaster. Among them waking up to V, curled up lazily against him in bed, was admittedly one of the most pleasant ones. Tags: Fluff, Smut, Lazy Mornings, Morning Sex A/N: Written for SpardaWeek on Twitter. Can also be read on AO3.

Lazy Morning

The moment Dante woke up he knew it was way too early to be awake, simply because it was always too early to wake up. If it was up to him he might as well sleep all day, maybe take a little break for pizza, and then sleep some more. Unfortunately most people didn’t share that philosophy, so he too, had eventually gotten used to forcing himself out of bed at some point during the day.

But it wasn’t so bad. These days he might even be tempted to say that it had its good side, too, or should he rather say sight? Namely the one he woke up to every day. It made it just a little easier to open his eyes in the morning, and stop pretending the world didn’t exist as long as he didn’t. He could feel it, the warmth of his bed that he still wasn’t used to, and that had little to do with the sunlight streaming through the broken blind he had yet to bother fixing. He reached out with one hand, carefully, just until he met something soft and warm that was definitely not a blanket, and smiled. That alone, knowing he was there, was enough to convince him to open his eyes.

He blinked them open, mindful of the sun that had a tendency to shine right into his eyes, no matter what time it was. Today, though, it had already moved past his body, highlighting jet black locks and a pale face instead. V’s hair was curled heavily and disheveled in places. His expression was soft, seemingly content, free from worry or pain. Dante was glad to say that it had been quite some time since he had last seen either marring the other’s face.

The sight still left him breathless, no matter how often he had already woken up to it. His heart clenched almost painfully in both disbelief and utter joy.

This man was his now. He was always at his side, and he was so willingly. He had chosen Dante out of his own volition like only a true fool could, or maybe someone who loved deeply, whose love went deeper than Dante’s flaws and his false bravado.

Before he knew it Dante was reaching out to cup a pale cheek that the morning light was dancing upon all too playfully, doing so with a gentleness he didn’t even know he possessed.

“You’re beautiful, V,” he whispered, for no one to hear but himself and the soft light dancing across V’s still form.

It was an observation he probably didn’t share often enough. He often didn’t even dare to, though, in fear of sounding overly sappy.

But what could he say? He loved this man, which was as simple as it was frightening. Or maybe frightening wasn’t the right word, but something new, foreign, something he still had to get used to.

V was stirring soon after, subconsciously nuzzling into Dante’s hand as he moved just the tiniest bit closer in his sleep. He stilled once he could feel Dante’s body against his, and Dante presumed he had gone back to sleep, but just when he had convinced himself of that V’s eyes opened. They focused on Dante immediately, and Dante was weirdly giddy to know that he was the first thing V woke up to in the morning, especially when those jade green eyes seemed to sparkle upon recognizing him and V’s lovely pink lips turned into a soft, sleepy smile.

“Morning, gorgeous,” Dante breathed softly.

He felt tempted to kiss those smiling lips, so he did just that, pressing a chaste little peck to V’s lips. V’s eyes closed at the action before smiling at him once more.

“Good morning, Dante,” V greeted him in return, and the sound of his low, sleepy voice even made up for the lack of a pet name. Dante could live with that.

V sat up and the thin summer blanket covering him slipped from his shoulders to pool in his lap. Knowing he wore nothing beneath due to certain activities last night was almost too much to bear. V, however, wasn’t even awake enough to notice Dante’s blatant staring, much less the inappropriate thoughts that started filling his mind.

It was a shame, really, that Dante’s demon nature prevented marks from remaining on his skin for longer than a few minutes, while V bore every mark with a nonchalance that bordered on pride. There they were: soft markings barely peeking out from beneath the blanket left behind by Dante’s own hands. They would fade soon, in fact, Dante had been unaware he had left them at all, but V hadn’t complained. The marks left by Dante’s lips and teeth, however, those would stay for a while longer, adding to the artwork on V’s skin with a touch of pink and red. On V’s neck for example, left and right, just shy of the thin black lines adorning it.

Dante sat up as well, his hands wrapping around V’s waist, and nuzzled against the yet sensitive marks on his neck. That got V’s attention and the man suddenly sat up straighter.

Now Dante had done the same thing enough times to know that this could go one of two ways: either V would push him away with a playful, bordering on exasperated, remark about Dante being insatiable or…

A moment later V relaxed into the hold, shifting his head to give Dante more room, all the while humming quietly, curiously.

“You seem to be in a good mood,” he remarked, not sounding put off at all.

Dante liked what that meant, a lot.

“Waking up with you, how couldn’t I be?”

V chuckled, soft, little vibrations Dante could feel against his lips where they rested against V’s skin, tempting a smile onto his own lips.

“Charming. And I’m sure that’s the only reason.”

Dante grinned, lavishing some attention on the marks he had left with his tongue. He pulled away, making a show out of licking his lips as he did so.

“Well, you being so gorgeous certainly helps.”

A sultry little smirk formed on V’s lips, but it was never that easy.

“And with 'gorgeous’ I’m sure you mean naked.”

“Hey, I didn’t say that!” Dante was quick to defend himself.

“But you thought it.”

He hadn’t, not really.

…Well, not that much anyway. Instead of replying, though, he pounced, pinning V beneath him. The man didn’t seem surprised, but offered no resistance.

“I see you have changed tactics,” he commented calmly.

It was just the tiniest bit disappointing honestly, but at this point Dante should have been used to V defying his expectations. V wouldn’t be here, if he didn’t, after all, so Dante simply grinned down at him.

“Now shut up, and let me make you feel good.”

At that something in V’s expression changed, growing almost soft. He linked one hand behind Dante’s head to pull him close.

“You always do,” he said softly, and if that wasn’t just entirely unfair Dante didn’t know what was.

He groaned, not bothering to resist the temptation to kiss V for real. Judging from how he could feel V smile against his lips the other man surely didn’t seem opposed.

Was he allowed to be sappy yet? Dante pondered over that as they broke apart and he stared into those soft green depths.

Screw it.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, softer than he intended.

What do you mean? He wasn’t getting sentimental, he wasn’t .

V’s smile only grew softer.

“As you keep saying.”

Dante smiled. “Do I really?”

“Don’t tell me the ‘Legendary Devil Hunter’ is nervous?”

Leaning closer Dante brushed his lips against V’s smiling ones.

“Why? Do I have a reason to?”

V chuckled, a sound as rare as it was beautiful, the hand still at the back of Dante’s head stroking softly through his hair.

“I don’t see any,” he replied.

There was a smirk playing on his lips that Dante was quick to mirror, kissing V once more before trailing lower. He pressed a kiss to V’s cheek and jaw, earning another soft chuckle. When he reached his goal down on V’s neck he made sure to kiss both of the marks before nipping one of them with his teeth. V groaned low in his throat, hand burying further into Dante’s silver-white locks.

“You like that, huh?”

That was when V used the grip he had on Dante to tilt his head up and look at him, a dangerous gleam in his eyes.

“I would like it if you moved this on. Unless this is all you’re planning to do?”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Dante grinned, “there’s lots more where that came from.”

He sat up quickly and used one hand to pin V’s hands in place over with head. V merely quirked an eyebrow at the action, watching him expectantly.

Intimidation was never going to work on this guy anyway, so Dante wasted no time in going for his actual goal, though he couldn’t help admiring them beforehand. They were right there, after all: all cute and pink and vulnerable.

“Dante?” V asked after a moment of Dante silently staring at him, and Dante noticed just a hint of trepidation in his usual calm voice.

Dante grinned just before squeezing one of V’s cute, little nipples. V gasped, immediately starting to squirm in his grasp.

“Dante!”

The devil hunter merely chuckled, relishing the soft gasps and moans spilling from V’s lisps when all Dante did was rubbing that sensitive little bud between his fingers. V was just delightfully sensitive, especially right there. The other little bud looked almost lonely, though. Seeing as his other hand was still occupied he would just have to remedy that with his mouth, wouldn’t he?

V’s squirming only increased when he realized what Dante was about to do. His full-body shiver when Dante’s lips closed around his nipple was the greatest reward in itself even before Dante started suckling on it.

With soft, desperate gasps filling his ears Dante slowly eased his grip on V’s hands, and not a moment later they were on him, one back in his hair and the other on his shoulder, but Dante couldn’t tell whether V was trying to push him away or pull him closer.

“D-Dante, stop teasing!” V gasped and Dante delighted in hearing that sultry voice waver and break, all thanks to his own doing.

Dante let up then, smirking down at the other man.

“What makes you think I’m teasing?”

V glared at him, though his reddened face severely diminished the intended effect.

“Your smirk, just to name one thing.”

“Alright, you got me," Dante admitted easily. "So I take it you’re not opposed to taking this further?” he asked, already leaning towards the bedside table where they kept certain supplies.

V actually rolled his eyes at that.

“I would have kicked you out of the bed long ago if I was.”

That was all he needed to hear as Dante retrieved the lube from the drawer.

“I’m aware. Just making sure, don’t worry.”

Dante shifted a little further down the bed so V had more room to move. Not needing any further prompting V spread his legs, allowing Dante to settle between them. Dante grinned lewdly down at him as he went to spread some of the liquid on his fingers before reaching down. V let out a sigh that sounded suspiciously like a mixture of exasperated and amused, before that too, broke down into a gasp as Dante slid a finger into him.

V was always sensitive, but also quick to adjust, so Dante didn’t wait long before slowly opening him up with shallow thrusts.

V moaned softly, moving slowly in time with Dante's thrusts. He seemed comfortable enough, so Dante added another finger, still keeping his thrusts shallow to get V used to the sensation. At least that was his intention but-

“I’m not made of glass, Dante,” V complained, green eyes clear and challenging as he looked up at him.

Dante let out an amused huff before he added a third finger and started scissoring them.

V groaned in appreciation, erasing all worries of moving too fast.

"Hn… deeper… ” Dante couldn’t help but grin, feeling inordinately pleased that he had gotten V to the point where he knew what he wanted, even if it meant that he tended to be quite demanding these days. He was also pleased, he rediscovered at the high-pitched keen that left V as Dante complied with his demand, that V was just as sensitive as that very first time Dante had been allowed to touch him this way. “I'm ready. Please…” V sighed into his ear, audibly breathless. Dante withdrew his fingers, wiping them off carelessly, before resituating himself. With a suggestive grin he reclined against the headboard, legs spread in obvious invitation. V watched him, a healthy flush and just a hint of hesitation on his face when he realized what Dante wanted him to do. “You up to it?” Dante asked, only half-teasing. The look of determination he was faced with just a moment later was all the answer he got as V moved over, lifting one leg -that lovely cock of his right in front of Dante's face for one teasingly fleeting moment- and straddling Dante's in one fluid motion. He loved that about V: always unafraid, practically eager, to try new things, and Dante was more than willing to teach him. The smirk V's face when they were but inches apart was one of the most beautiful things the devil hunter had ever seen, and Dante was helpless to watch as V rose once more, one hand reaching behind himself to hold Dante's cock in a sure grip. Dante held his breath, restraining himself from thrusting up with abandon as he felt himself line up with V's perky little hole. He let V lead, watching with bated breath as the man started lowering himself, his smirk quickly falling from his face as his expression tensed, his eyes closed in obvious discomfort. Dante was quick to grab onto his waist both to steady the other man and hold his progress. "Take it slow," he breathed softly as those beautiful eyes fluttered open once more to look at him. "There's no rush." V was just looking at him for a moment before he nodded almost imperceptibly. His arms reached out to steady himself on Dante's chest before he started moving once more this time steadied by Dante's firm, supportive grip. It was slow but steady going from there, and the soft satisfied noise that left V when Dante finally bottomed out was the sound of angels. "You feel good," V sighed against Dante's lips, capturing them in a hungry kiss. Dante hummed questioningly but gladly met him with equally eager lips. "Glad you think so," Dante said once his lips were his own again. He loosened his grip, instead offering soft strokes along V's flank as he savored the feeling of being buried to the hilt in soft welcoming flesh. "You gonna do it yourself?" Dante asked, smiling lazily up at V who responded with a smirk of his own. "I'll certainly try." And that smirk was truly worthy of a devil as he rose up on his knees, giving Dante no time to prepare himself, before he dropped down again, drawing groans both of them. "You're a real devil, you know that?" Dante growled as he leaned up for a filthy kiss. V's only reaction was to purr as if he had just received the best compliment, that beautiful bastard. "And here I thought that was your part," V replied smoothly as if he wasn't just as desperate as Dante in that moment. He rose up again, before Dante could even think to respond again, more slowly this time until but the tip remained before sliding back down, growing more confident with each downward motion, until he settled into a slow rhythm. Dante groaned, kissing and nipping aimlessly at V's neck listening to the other's breathless gasps and soft little moans. His black curtain of hair covering the both of them as he turned his head to look down at Dante, a teasing little smile on his lips until it was broken by another gasp just a second later. He was beautiful like this, and more perfect than he had any right to be. That was another thing that was new to Dante. Slow sex had never been of interest to him before, but with V those lazy, intimate moments between them were the most satisfying experience he could ever hope for. V kept up a rhythm that was slow without being unsatisfying that stoked equally slow-burning embers of pleasure deep in his gut. V's head landed in the junction between Dante's neck and shoulder, breathing irregularly as his rhythm faltered, and the devil hunter took over when he saw V's legs trembling from the effort to keep himself up. It still surprised him how light the man was, all the confidence and stubbornness of a demon wrapped into a frail human body, and Dante loved him all the more for it, primal desires to claim and own building a surprising harmony with the overpowering urge to protect and nurture. Dante was all but helpless to obey them. "Dante," V all but sighed into his ears and Dante remembered he still had a job to do. He lifted the body on top of him with ease, dragging him back down at the same time as he thrust up, earning the most beautiful moan yet as V abandoned his steadying hold to wrap his arms around Dante instead digging dull claws in the other's shoulder blades. Dante growled approvingly as he repeated the motion, over and over again, setting a faster pace as he felt them both nearing their peak. "V, are you-" "Yes! Please... together..." "Fuck," Dante groaned, picking up the pace, making sure to thrust hard and deep until V's moans were little more than broken sobs. Dante grabbed V's cock laying hot and leaking between their bodies, and gave but a single tight-gripped stroke as he thrust up into his already abused prostrate and the world turned white. V came gasping, spreading hot sticky liquid between their bodies, clamping down mercilessly around the hunter who spilled deep within him until nothing was left to give. V sagged against him, spent and exhausted, breathing harshly into Dante's neck. With how little he weighed Dante had no problem letting him rest right where he was even as the mess they had created between them slowly grew uncomfortable. Dante's own devil nature had him fully recovered in less than a minute, so he had all the time in the world to dote on V. He softly brushed messy strands of hair out of V’s face before pressing a sweet kiss to his lips that V only offered a soft hum in response to, eyes still firmly closed. "Time to rise and shine, darling." V grumbled, opening his eyes only to throw him a judging look. "You're insufferable." Dante offered him a charming smile in return. "That's not what you said before," he said with a wink. “First shower is yours, darling.” That got a tired chuckle out of V.

"My, how generous," he replied teasingly, closing his eyes once more.

Dante thought that was the end of that, and V would actually just keep lying in bed for a while longer. V surprised him yet again with stretching out his limbs not even a minute later before opening his eyes again. He sat up then, looking almost adorably tired. As if reading Dante’s mind V yawned as he finally moved to get out of the bed. He grabbed some fresh clothes from the closet before moving past the bed toward the bathroom, but not before leaning down to press a playful little kiss to Dante’s lips.

Dante could only stare at him as if in a daze.

"I won't be long," V whispered into his ear like a lover’s secret.

Was he allowed to sappy yet? Dante wondered yet again, and again, the answer was the same: screw it. "I'll miss you anyway," he replied softly. He figured the surprised little chuckle that gained him was worth the embarrassment as V left to take his showers. Dante didn’t deny staring at V’s backside all the way until the door closed behind him.

What could Dante say? He just really loved this man.

If you liked it, please like and/or reblog, and feel free to yell at me via asks or messages if you feel like it^^

[athyrabunlord]

Daydream [VI] Hanamaru & Ruby

Reminder: This is based off of Daydream Warrior and this fanart I did Warning: Profanity, violence and sex. Ships: You>Chika>Kanan>Riko>?; with mentions of YouMari & KanaMari, and implied DiaYoshi & Maruby Words: 2,823 [concept doodle]

[I. Mari] [II. Chika] [III. Yohane] [IV. Kanan] [V. Dia] [VI. Hanamaru & Ruby] [VII. You] [VIII. Riko] [IX. ???]

VI. Hanamaru & Ruby

“But I want to go back” “To that day, the day we met” “My one wish goes ungranted”

“You’re not asleep, are you?”

You’s arm remained draped over her closed eyes. She felt the weight of someone sitting down beside her head as well as the pleasant floral scent that always seemed to accompany the speaker. She refused to budge from where she was sprawled on her back across the bench with her legs dangling over the edge.

A quiet sigh, though there was a hint of exasperated fondness. “Still, don’t sleep here in the open, you might get sick.”

You’s lips twitched in humor. “Isn’t there a saying that says bakas don’t get sick?”

She grinned behind her arm when the newcomer playfully ruffled her hair. “Don’t call yourself a baka, silly.”

“Hey! You’re messing up my hair!”

“It’s already messy to begin with though?”

“How mean,” You growled and sat up abruptly, batting the hand away from her head. She chuckled at the startled squeal and laughed even more so when the other girl punched her arm. “That’s weak, y’know.”

Another punch, this time more forceful, though nothing compared to the fist fights she was used to. Even then, she rubbed at her abused arm and whined. “Ow~! I’m gonna have a bruise tomorrow.”

“Baka…”

“Ah, so I really am a baka?”

Okay, she deserved that pinch, but her bandaged cheek was still sore from the brawl yesterday and she couldn’t suppress the urge to flinch. The same hand then gently caressed the injured area, as if apologizing for inflicting further pain. She closed her eyes briefly to relish the sensation before opening her eyes and turning to face her companion at last.

“Hey.”

“Hey you.” Amber eyes were filled with concern as the burgundy-haired girl lightly brushed her thumb over the bandage. “Why do you always get into fights-?”

“Now now, I don’t start them. Trouble comes looking for me, not the other way around,” You smiled wryly as she slouched in her seat. “They’re not that bad, and overall it’s good exercise, Riko-chan.”

“No, it’s not. One of these days you’ll get really hurt, and I don’t want that.” Riko said sternly, her fingers curling near You’s cheek as if threatening to pinch it again.

You backed away and pouted. “I know I know. Geez, you and Chika-chan won’t ever stop nagging at me, will you? Be proud, I stopped the fight before it got too bad, and came here to rest.”

“I see. Good, there’s improvement at least.”

Airily, Riko straightened and pulled out a familiar sketchbook from her bag. She ignored You’s questioning gaze and began to doodle the scenery. You’s blue eyes swept over the park, noting the few people strolling along the path, a kid playing with his dog over there, some flying their kites beyond the pond, and an old couple seated at a nearby bench and simply enjoying the nice weather. Everything seemed so picturesque, the tranquil atmosphere so good that it almost felt fake, especially compared to the frequent fights she’s gotten herself involved in.

Nevertheless, this wasn’t bad. This wasn’t bad at all. She could get used to such peace.

She listened to the quiet scratching sounds of the pencil as Riko sketched, smiling at the occasional pauses when the latter wasn’t pleased with the lighting or the composition.

“You’re not mad me?”

“Why would I be mad at you?”

“Aha, you are mad at me,” You peered at her friend and scooted closer. In response, Riko scooted away and resumed drawing like she wasn’t even here. Pouting again, You repeated her action and received the same reaction. The cycle continued until Riko was barely seated at the edge of the bench.

Huffing, she set down her sketchbook and scowled at the grinning You. “What?”

“Finally made you look at me.”

Riko raised an eyebrow and exhaled deeply. “Look, I’m not mad at you. Like I said, I’m just worried. Stop getting into fights so often. Chika-chan’s worried, Kanan-chan too.”

You rolled her eyes. “I can handle myself. Kanan should know that better than either of you.”

“Just promise us… promise me, okay?”

It was really difficult to say no, not under such pair of piercing, pretty eyes. You shrugged, holding her arms akimbo. “Alright! I’ll try to stay out of trouble. In exchange though, I wanna see this!”

Before Riko could react, You snatched the sketchbook out of her lap and flipped through the pages. She hummed in appreciation at the detailed drawings, some still life and some of animals. The recent pages, however, were filled with portraits of a ponytailed girl. Jogging, stretching, napping, drinking a bottle of water, or just smiling at the viewer.

Snickering, You wasn’t surprised to see Riko’s face turning beet red. “Does Kanan know?”

“Of course, but that doesn’t make this any less embarrassing. Can I have it back already?”

Taking pity on the blushing girl, You held out the sketchbook and chuckled again when Riko hugged it protectively against her chest. Silence fell upon them for a while, long enough for You to shuffle uncertainly. Was that too much teasing?

Just as she was about to apologize, Riko spoke up in a muffled voice. “Do you believe in true love, You-chan?”

For some reason, the question stung her more than any physical injury ever did. She immediately thought of a mikan-haired girl and her beautiful smile. This thought alone pained her just as much as it made her happy. Self-conscious, she scratched the back of her hair and mumbled. “… yeah, I do.”

Riko giggled at her response. The soft sound tickled inside her heart, yet she didn’t feel insulted or annoyed.

“Why do you ask anyway? You’re the happy couple, not me.”

“Just curious, that’s all.”

“Riko-chan…”

“It’s true, I just wanted to know your thoughts.”

You folded her arms, trying to read the soft smile on Riko’s visage. Was that bliss? Would she look like that too, if Chika were to accept her feelings? But that wouldn’t ever be possible, would it? After all, Chika loved someone else, someone who was also her friend.

And that person happened to be Riko’s girlfriend as well.

“Okay, now that you know, what’re you going to do?”

Riko turned away and looked into the sky, not smiling but not frowning either. Her whispered reply drifted with the breeze, so quiescent that You almost didn’t catch it.

“I’m going to set things right.”

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

“Don’t fall asleep here, you’ll get sick.”

You grunted but did not move to acknowledge the speaker. Her arm was draped over her face, shielding her closed eyes from the sunlight as she remained sprawled on her back across the bench. Her mind was a mess, chaotic even long after she had left the hospital. She’s wandered back to the park and found herself reminiscing her time with Riko.

Truth be told, she missed chatting with Riko. She didn’t remember what happened after that, though she did recall avoiding her since that puzzling conversation.

Why though?

You gritted her teeth and turned to her side, resting her arm against the cool and rough surface of the bench’s backrest. Ah, she didn’t want to be prodded about her feelings for Chika or talk about love, as subtle as Riko had been. Sometimes, You admired how Chika and Riko remained good friends under such circumstances, while she and Kanan…

Deep exhale. She clenched her fist and tried to ignore the throbbing pain from her wounds. That Dia may have cleaned and bandaged them, but her words had torn open something more painful. Perhaps she should go back to Chika now, as she promised she would. She couldn’t find her phone, which was prolly broken and still back at Chika’s place, and that was the excuse she kept telling herself to delay facing Chika again.

Again, she recalled Riko’s soft smile when the latter spoke of true love. How could Matsuura fucking Kanan betray her? Dragged Chika into this?

Someone to share your joy and pain, someone to talk to… someone to hug.

Only Mari understood You. She didn’t want to see either Chika or Riko. She wanted to see Mari at this moment, desperately so. In spite of whatever Mari had with Kanan, You still wanted to be with her. It wasn’t just about screwing each other senseless, or just having someone period. No, it wasn’t something as paltry as sex.

It was so much more than that, You was certain of it.

Her thoughts were rudely jostled out of her mind when petite hands pushed her further along the bench to make room. You’s legs dangled awkwardly over the edge while her face was uncomfortably squashed between her arm and the backrest. Growling in annoyance, she sat up and glared down at the short brunette and her pigtailed friend.

“What the fuck?”

“Language please,” Hanamaru was unfazed, her thick novel open in her lap. She didn’t even glance in You’s direction. “You were in my seat, so I moved you.”

You pulled back her fist, fully intending to at least punch the spot beside the girl’s shoulder to scare her. She stopped in mid-motion however, when her glare found Ruby’s green eyes. They were unnerving, emotionless and severe.

It was the same way Dia looked at her, back in the hospital.

Deep breath. In and out. In and out. You clenched her eyes shut and slouched in her seat. The tense silence was intermittently interrupted by the rustling sound of Hanamaru flipping the pages of her book. She should just leave and save herself from this inexplicable stress, but her pride refused to give in. Why should she get out of the way? She was here first!

“… there are so many other benches available, why this one?” You looked around the park, noting the lack of passersby, empty benches and the dried up pond.

“I always read my book with Ruby-chan here, and I don’t intend to change that,” Hanamaru’s gaze remained fixated on the novel’s small print. Ruby appeared to be reading over her friend’s shoulder as well.

“A stubborn one, aren’t you?”

“Not as much as you, You-san.”

“Ha! You think you know me?” She angrily recalled their encounter days ago, also here at the park. “What, you want me to wake up? Is that it?”

The brunette shrugged, her voice flat with nonchalance. It was clear that she didn’t give a fuck. “Awake, asleep, daydreaming, does that matter? You remain the same no matter what. Why do I even try?”

Again, You was seized by the violent urge to hurt the smaller girl. Not out of desire to cause her pain, but rather to solicit some sort of emotion out of her and her friend. Any other girls would have fled or screamed in fear if You were to glare at them like this, but not these two. It wasn’t as if You enjoyed terrifying younger girls, but such reaction would have been normal at least.

Hanamaru and Ruby’s lack of expected response was unsettling.

You covered her face and chuckled sardonically. Did she just wish for normality? What a fucking joke! She thrived in chaos. Only in bloody fistfights did she feel alive. Peace? What peace? She will never know peace.

It was not meant for her. Fact.

“What’s that book? Is it really that interesting?”

“Oh it is. Riko-san recommended it to us. We would like to finish it.”

You pursed her lips, unsurprised by their acquaintance of the artist. They came to the park often enough, they might have even bonded over common interests. Literature was a form of art too. Riko used to mention her friend Dia preferring classic literature, while her other friend enjoyed fantasy and in particularly the occult.

Right. Yohane and Riko were good friends, and that was how she came to know the eccentric gothic girl.

“Where’s your friend?”

Neither Hanamaru nor Ruby answered her.

“I was looking for her.”

Hanamaru turned a page, her expression unreadable as able. “Then keep looking.”

“Smartass,” You rubbed her chin. “Odd, I swore you used to speak in an odd accent or dialect of some sort, at least around her. Yohane-chan I mean.”

“Is that so?” There was an indiscernible tremor in her voice.

“Yup. Well, I don’t give a shit how you speak, just pointing it out.”

Silence again.

“How about you?” She shifted her attention to the pigtailed girl. “Say something. You mute or what?”

Ruby blinked and stared at her with those disturbingly blank eyes again. Her lips remained sealed.

“You are mute then.”

Ruby returned her gaze back to the book.

“No seriously, I was looking for your friend. She was talking to me but then she disappeared out of the blue-”

The book was slammed shut so abruptly that it made a cringe-worthy thud. There was something ugly and abhorrent in Hanamaru’s brown eyes. It was fleeting, but the intensity of such emotion had You tense defensively.

“Dia-san is with Yoshiko-chan.”

Ruby started trembling so Hanamaru gently held her hands, the gesture so drastically different than her vicious glare towards the older girl.

“Yo…shiko?” You was distinctly aware of her own heart pounding within her ribcage, like a trapped beast frantically trying to break free. Yohane… Yoshiko… Tsushima Yoshiko?

“Yoshiko-chan is still in a coma,” Hanamaru whispered darkly. “So perhaps you’ve been hallucinating, or you just have a sick sense of humor. Whatever it is, please stop it. It’s just us left now, Ruby-chan and I. The moment you even attempt to hurt Ruby-chan, I swear you will be begging for death the moment I’m done with you.”

Such savage words sounded so uncharacteristic and outlandish from a petite girl, let alone someone like Hanamaru. Yohane’s friend was usually smiling, playfully berating the gothic girl’s antics and cuddling Ruby.

That Hanamaru would never hurt a fly. The brunette here though would follow through with her threat, word for word.

You felt sick.

Back at the warehouse, back in the hallways of the hospital, and countless other times, she has been talking to thin air? But Yohane had replied to her. Or was it her own conscience, taking the form of the girl she considered trustworthy?

“Onee-chan is wholly devoted to Yoshiko-chan now.”

Both Hanamaru and You’s eyes widened as they looked at Ruby, whose expression was serene and somehow that sent a chill down You’s limbs.

“I loved her, you know? Yoshiko-chan. But I’ve been useless and I’m scared of facing her again,” Ruby was smiling. “Maru-chan too. Maru-chan loved Onee-chan, ne?”

Hanamaru cringed, her carefully controlled expression crumbling to that of pain. “That’s-”

“It’s okay. I know. That’s from before. We have each other now and that’s all that matters,” Ruby held up the brunette’s hand and interlaced their fingers, the gesture full of tenderness that it inexplicably frightened You even more. “Even then, I still wish we could go back, back to the way everything used to be.”

“That’s the one wish I cannot help you with, Ruby-chan,” Hanamaru pulled her hand away, her eyes churning with raw emotions. “Like what Kanan-chan said, it’s just a nightmare, one that none of us can ever wake up from.”

Ruby nodded slowly, her lips pressed in a thin line while her expression returned to that unnerving, vacant one like before.

It took a moment for You to realize she was covered in cold sweat. She wiped at her damp brow with her forearm and almost tripped in her haste to stand up.

“I-I’m going to g-go see Riko-chan. She… She can help me, yeah. She always has.”

Hanamaru stared at her coolly and gestured at the trees on the other side of the field. “We just went to see her. She’s over there.”

You staggered away as fast as her failing legs could bring her. She knew there was a hidden entrance to the park in that direction. She didn’t usually take this path, as it was covered with undergrowth which made it annoying to walk through. However she used to be familiar with the area, as it granted its visitors privacy and a natural veil of filtered lights from the canopy tops. Riko loved sketching here.

And this is where I…

She stumbled out of the woods and found the small gate that faced the intersection of a busy street. Gasping for breaths, she stood still and stared at the ponytailed girl crouched beside the dilapidated fence.

Kanan was holding a bouquet of roses, tears sliding down her cheeks and raining upon a withered wreath against the corner. She gingerly placed the bouquet beside a photo frame, her lips moving with whispered words.

You found it excruciating to breathe, her heart aching like someone had clenched it tight in their grip.

Kanan stood up listlessly and looked at You with dead eyes.

“I’m going to set things right.”

[loljulie]

stay with me; {006} things we lost

(the title of this chapter is inspired by things we lost in the fire by bastille like listen to that song its v good and bastille in general is amazing. and it’s kind of a play on words. sorry it’s a bit angsty ???? ahead.... yikes. thank u for being patient for this chapter; things are still p busy with me but i promise to keep this fic going until the end. enjoy lovelies~)

genre: dunkirk

collins x reader

word count: 1622

As November slowly passed, the two of you found yourself in a pleasant routine. As the weather got colder and colder, it only seemed right that your dates take place indoors. One of your favorite things to do during this time was sit in front of the fireplace of Collins’ living room, snuggled next to him as rain fell nonstop outside. You’d sometimes sit and talk for hours, with an old-timey record playing in the background. Other times, you’d take a stab at his miniature library and take turns reading chapters aloud to one another.

The fire crackled in front of you, as you held the almost finished Screwtape Letters in your hands. Your eyes followed each line as you repeated every word out loud. Raindrops hit softly against the glass window, mixing with the crackling of the fire to create a charming atmosphere. In your time, you’d be able to search up recordings of ambient moods like this when you were feeling particularly stressed, but nothing could compare to the real thing.

This routine was very welcome to your hectic life. Though rare that you would risk leaving in the middle of a work day, it became a momentary getaway for you. When you found yourself elbows deep in paperwork, you’d steal away to meet with Collins in his warm living room and be back at your desk mere minutes later, feeling rejuvenated. Of course, you always made sure to arrange another get-together before you returned, just in case you needed another pick-me-up the next day.  

“’Your affectionate uncle, Screwtape,’” you finished the last sentence of your chapter and flipped the page. It was at this point, normally, that Collins would take the book from you and begin the next chapter. When you felt no movement from him, you cast a curious glance his way.

You’d never seen him in a state like that before. His eyes were glazed over, but he kept them focused on the flames in front of him. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking about, but his mind seemed distant and elsewhere. You looked over at the fire, wondering if there was anything special about it.

The orange flames wrapped around the charred logs, occasionally sending glowing embers skywards. Gray ash tumbled to the ground every now and then as the fire ate away at the wood with a crackling here and there. You looked back at Collins, focusing on his eyes now more than before, and noticed that he appeared to be looking through the flames.

“Love?” you called out, and shifted your body so that you could face him. He didn’t make any sign that he acknowledged your voice. You carefully shut the front cover of the book and placed it on the coffee table in front of you. More determined this time, you leaned your face so that his eyes would find you in their periphery and repeated yourself. “Love, are you alright?”

Collins blinked a few times, let out a breath, and tore his eyes away from the fire to look at you. From there, he looked around the living room, his eyes registering his surroundings in quick movements. He seemed flustered, for some reason.

“Are you alright?” you asked again, placing a hand on his shoulder. You weren’t sure what was happening with him, but he reacted to your touch by focusing back on you again. He gave a hesitant nod.

“Aye, juist...” his voice was a bit raspy as he started. He seemed to lose track of what he was about to say, and shook his head. “Remembered something.”

“About what?” you asked, oblivious to what was going on with him. It didn’t occur to you what he was thinking about – you not even minding the fact that the fire was what caused his space out – until he said it himself.

“Th' fire it...” he began, struggling with his words. You couldn’t tell if he was anxious to tell you, or if he was anxious to have to re-tell what he just went through. “It reminded me o' th' war.”

Your heart dropped, and you watched as his eyes focused on the flames again. You rubbed his shoulder reassuringly. “I’m here, if you want to talk about anything.”

He was silent for a moment as he watched the endless flames before him. “I wis oan a civillian boat. I hud juist crashed into th' channel, flying to Dunkirk. A ship wis sinking, 'n' we wur pul'in men into th' boat, bit thay wur covered with oil.”

“I remember watchin' as Farrier – he kept oan th' plane above us. He finally downed th' bas, bit 'twas off to crash into th' oil. I remember yelling to th' captain to go as th' plane fell. Thare wur men in th' wa’er, swimmin` toward oor boat, bit we couldn’t wait thare or we'd a' die.”

“We sailed the baoot awa' as th' fire spread. I remember feeling relieved that we'd made it. I didn’ even stop to think aboot they men in th' oil, 'til juist noo.”

He paused, his eyes now focusing on his hands in his lap. You couldn’t see his face, but after hearing him speak next, you realized he must’ve been crying. “They're deid. I know 'twas survival, that 'twas war, but they're still deid, aren't thay? I can’ chaynge that, na maiter how I justify it.”  

You moved your hand to just under his chin and pulled his face upward. A couple of tears had streamed down his face, and his eyes were red. He hastily wiped away the stray tears. You pulled him into a hug, your arms wrapped firmly around his neck. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around your back and leaned his forehead into your shoulder.

You stayed like that for a while, your fingers massaging the base of his neck as he held onto you. From the sudden wetness on your shirt, you could tell that his tears kept falling.

This was the reality of war. It doesn’t just end when countries make peace treaties. It carries on, in the hearts and minds of all the soldiers that had to partake in the terrible event of war. Regret, guilt, anxiety – all embedding themselves inside every man who stepped foot on the battleground. You knew the words to describe his condition, the words that wouldn’t be coined or recognized until the 1980’s.

“You can’t think like that,” you whispered to him after a few minutes in his embrace. You weren’t sure what good your words could do to ease him, but you had to say something. “They may be dead but that wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t save them – if you tried, you wouldn’t be here.”

You felt him shift in your arms – you guessed he was wiping away his tears on your cotton shirt. “You’re here, you’re alive, and what you can do now, for them, is to keep living and moving forward. Otherwise, they would’ve died for no reason.”

After a few shaky breaths, Collins pulled away from you and sat up. His eyes were bloodshot from the tears that welled from them moments ago, but he gave you a soft, reassuring smile when he noticed how concerned you looked.

“Ye'r richt,” he said finally. “Tis juist – tis juist hard to think aboot. But ye'r richt.”

Your face cracked to reveal a smile, and you opened your arms to beckon him back into your embrace. He willingly leaned into you, nestling into your side and wrapping one arm around your waist. You picked up the book from the table and flipped to where you left off.

“I’ll just read the next one, yeah?” Collins nodded silently and you began reading the next chapter aloud. And you’d read the next one after that, and the one after that, until you were all finished with it. You didn’t mind, though. After the ordeal Collins just had to relive, you were positive all he wanted was to have someone to hold – and the fact that you were reading one of his favorite books was an added comfort. You were just glad to be that person for him, the one he could trust and was comfortable enough with to show a glimpse of his vulnerable side.

When you returned home that night – after he insisted that he treat you to dinner in the town for putting up with him – you couldn’t help but feel mixed emotions over everything. On one hand, your heart was fluttering when you realized you had become such a special person to Collins that he felt he could come to you when he needed solace. It must be hard for him to tell you about something so personal, and yet he opened up anyway. You realized how important you were to him, and it made you overwhelmed.

But on the other hand, you remembered your circumstances. As much as you wanted to believe that you were Y/N from Carlisle, that you were just a girl who used to work in a bakery with your parents, you weren’t. You were from the future – from a time centuries after his own – and you knew no other life than that one. Eventually, you’d have to stop this from going any further – but it was already getting so far.

You did your best not to dwell on that because a small seedling inside of you took advantage of your romantic side and – though very wrong – was beginning to hope that maybe you could find a life with Collins. And you started to believe that small thought more than you should have.

[shsummertimefest-blog]

Enjoy, @sweetlittlepeapod!

10 ways to say “I love you”

Fandom: Shadowhunters Characters: Magnus Bane and Alexander Lightwood Setting: Romantic Canon Divergence Atmosphere: Lighthearted, sweet, cute, fluffy Written for: sweetlittlepeapod for shsummertimefest Special message: I hope that this little present will make you smile! You’re a lovely and kind person and it was such an honor talking to you. And remember: Life may be tough, but you’re tougher! Words: 3093 [Read on AO3]

I

“Magnus?” Alexander cleared his throat while he casually leaned against the doorframe. He had his arms crossed over his chest and he bit his lip slightly. He probably wasn’t aware that the small gesture had such a big effect on Magnus and the warlock was not planning on telling him either. There were things the young shadowhunter didn’t need to know.

“Yes, Alexander?” Magnus looked up from the spell book he was studying. Although he had at least seen most of those spells already, there were quite a few fascinating new discoveries among them.

“Jace and I were gonna have a drink tonight…” Alexander hesitated and he took a deep breath before he continued his sentence. “I wondered if you wanna come along?”

Magnus raised his eyebrows and carefully he closed the huge old book in his lap. “Are you sure you want me to join the two of you?”

Alexander straightened his back and he shifted his weight from one leg to the other. “I think so.” He licked his lips and walked towards the warlock. “I think I want Jace and you to get to know each other. He’s my parabatai and you’re my…”

“Boyfriend.” Magnus finished his sentence for him and then he stood up from his chair to press a tender kiss on Alexander’s lips. “I’m already looking forward to tonight, Alexander.”

Alexander swallowed and he nodded. “Yeah, me too.”

II

Alec had no idea why he had eventually said yes, why he had agreed on going to a karaoke bar with Magnus. There was absolutely no way he was going to sing. He probably didn’t know any of the songs they had anyway and apart from that he didn’t want to harm any innocent mundanes in here.

“Would you like another cocktail, Alexander? I’ve heard the special of the house is indeed…very special.” Magnus curled his lips up into a smile and without waiting for the answer he placed a glass filled with green liquid in front of Alec.

“Do you really think that if you give me enough alcohol I will end up on that stage eventually?” Alec raised his eyebrows, but he did take a sip of the drink Magnus had brought him and he cocked his head slightly when he had to admit that the drink was better than he had expected it to be.

“It’s a karaoke bar, Alexander. It doesn’t matter if you can’t sing.” Magnus sat down next to Alec and he wrapped an arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders. “And although I do enjoy singing on my own, I would prefer singing a duet with you.” He pressed a soft kiss on Alec’s cheek and Alec started blushing.

“Trust me, you really don’t wanna hear me sing.” He shook his head and he took another sip form his drink. Alec had lost count of how many drinks he had had. Which probably meant he had a few too many already.

“I have actually invited you here because I would love to hear you sing my favorite song!” Magnus grabbed Alec’s chin and forced him to look at him. “Please? Do it for me?”

Alec licked his lips and for a moment he kept silent. “Fine, but remember that you were the one asking for it. I am not responsible for any bleeding ears in this room.”

“I am sure it won’t be as bad as you think.”

Alec chuckled. “No, it will be much worse.”

III

Magnus squeezed Alexander’s sweating hand. He knew that Alexander was still feeling uncomfortable walking around like this in public, but after everything that had happened he wanted to feel that Alexander was walking next to him, that he was still there, that they were still together, that their love had grown into something more than a simple infatuation, that maybe this time he had finally found the one he had been waiting for his entire long and endless life.

“Is everything alright?” Alexander turned his head towards the warlock next to him and for a moment Magnus just stared at him.

He curled his lips up into a smile and he pressed the palm of his hand to Alexander’s cheek. “More than alright, I would say.” Magnus cocked his head and then he looked up at the night sky above their heads. “I am here, with you, watched by the countless stars and the full moon, without anyone judging us, without anyone disturbing us.”

Alexander licked his lips and he shifted his weight from one leg to the other. “Why do I get the feeling that I missed something?” He swallowed and Magnus’ smile brightened.

Once more Magnus looked up and he caught the first falling star of the evening. While he closed his eyes he made a wish and when he opened his eyes again he pressed a soft kiss on Alexander’s dry lips. “Happy five month anniversary, Alexander.”

“O shit…” Alexander murmured softly while he wrapped his arms around Magnus’ body to kiss him back. “I forgot to buy you a present or something.”

“You don’t have to, Alexander.” Magnus shook his head and he curled his hands around Alexander’s neck. “I didn’t buy anything for you either, but I hope we will see enough falling stars tonight to make loads of wishes for a bright future. Together.”

IV

When the early morning sun forced Alec to open his eyes the spot next to him was empty. For a moment he hoped that Magnus had just gone to the toilet, that he would come back any minute, that they could spend a few more minutes together before their daily duties would call. But Magnus didn’t come back and eventually Alec stepped out of the bed. He felt a shiver rolling down his spine when his bare feet touched the cold floor and quickly he put his pants and shirt on.

“Good morning, Alexander.” Magnus curled his lips up into a smile when Alec entered the kitchen.

The air of the kitchen was filled with the smell of fresh baked bread and the table was covered in all kinds of fruit and small pastries.

“Did you do this for me?” Alec widened his eyes and he scratched he back of his neck, for a moment lost for words.

“Of course I did!” Magnus took off his apron and walked towards his boyfriend to press a soft and tender kiss on his lips. “I don’t want you to leave this apartment with an empty stomach.” Magnus stepped back again and Alec curled his lips up into a bright smile.

“Thank you…” His voice was barely a whisper and Magnus cocked his head while he shove back one of the chairs.

“You’re very welcome, Alexander.”

V

Magnus had to admit that after spending so much time with Alexander his apartment started to feel empty without the shadowhunter boy in it. Where it had once been his home and quiet space, it was now something he shared with someone he actually loved more than he could put into words. But Magnus knew that Alexander had duties.

After all, he was the head of the New York institute now. Countless of people were counting on him to solve their problems, to give them advice, to instruct them, to tell them what to do to keep the human population of New York City as safe as possible.

Magnus was proud of him, proud of the leader Alexander had become, but he had also noticed that the times they were sharing became rarer and rarer and shorter and shorter. Sometimes he even dared to wonder if Alexander still loved him as much as he had done when everything had still been fresh and new and exciting.

Alexander had never been good at expressing his emotions and he would most likely never become good at it, but sometimes a little assurance would be more than welcome.

Magnus looked up when he noticed a small yellow piece of paper on the fridge and his lips curled up into a smile when he recognized Alexander’s handwriting.

“Reminder: I love you.”

Magnus’ fingers were trembling a little while he grabbed the paper and his eyes kept on rereading the four little words. It were only four little words, but they made his heart skip a few beats in his chest and they made his entire skin tingling. His hands were shaking while he looked for some paper and a pen.

“Reminder: I love you too.”

He wrote the words down carefully and then he rumpled the paper in the palm of his hand. He still remembered the spell from all the times he had sent Ragnor Fell messages like this and the next moment the piece of paper was gone and had hopefully reached the person it was meant for.

VI

Alec scratched the back of his neck and looked around. He was almost certain that he had forgotten something, but he couldn’t figure out what. He had more popcorn than he and Magnus could probably eat. He had enough bags of chips to last for months in case a snowstorm would snow them in. He had placed countless pillows on the sofa and there was a high stack with DVD’s on the table.

“Alexander?” Magnus opened the door of his apartment and he stood still when he noticed the countless burning candles lightening the living room. “I do have to admit, this is a more than pleasant surprise.” With slow steps Magnus walked through the living room and he curled his lips up into a smile when he saw that the stack of DVD’s consisted of all his favorite movies.

“I know that things have been hectic lately and I know that I wasn’t always there when you needed me.” Alec bent his head and he stared at the floor beneath his feet. “I wanted to do something special.” He looked up again and shrugged his shoulders. “I hope you like it.”

“Like it? That might be the understatement of the year.” Magnus walked towards Alec and pressed the palm of his hand to Alec’s stubbled cheek. “You have however forgotten one very important thing.” He spoke softly before he pressed a soft and short kiss on Alec’s lips.

“What?” Alec shook his head and stepped back.

“There is no need to worry.” Magnus kept on smiling and he let his hand rest on Alec’s chest. “This apartment has never been without drinks and tonight won’t be any different.”

“Of course! Drinks! I knew I had forgotten something!” Alec raised his voice and he slapped his forehead with his hand.

“It doesn’t matter, Alexander.” Magnus shook his head. “Drinks have always been my specialty anyway.”

VII

Magnus felt the palms of his hands sweating while he watched how Alexander untied the golden ribbon annoyingly slowly. He had been looking forward to this moment for weeks now, but now the moment was finally there he started to fear that maybe his idea had not been as perfect as it had seemed.

“The present is almost too beautiful to unwrap.” Alexander cocked his head when he carefully placed the golden ribbon on the table in front of him.

“It’s nothing, really. I wouldn’t mind if you would shred the paper to pieces.” Magnus shifted his weight a little and he shrugged his shoulders while he kept his eyes on the package Alexander was holding.

“I wouldn’t do that.” Alexander shook his head and he seemed to need even longer to unwrap the paper than it had already taken him to untie the ribbon. Eventually he was holding a decorated wooden box with his name on it. “Where did you get this?” He looked up and Magnus took a deep breath.

“I think you should open it first before you ask any questions. Like many things, this present is not about the package.” Magnus spoke softly and he licked his lips while Alexander opened the wooden box.

“Wait…” He widened his eyes and stared at the collection of memories in front of him. “You’ve kept all of these?” He looked up at Magnus and Magnus curled his lips up into a small smile.

“Of course I did!” He shrugged his shoulders. “Somehow I knew from the start that what we have would be special.” He paused for a moment and he locked his glance with Alexander’s. “And I haven’t been wrong. I wanted to share all those memories with you and I wanted you to know how important they are to me and I hope they will be just as important to you.”

Alexander didn’t say anything for a moment. He carefully touched the objects in the box.

The bill of their first date. A bottle top from the first drink they shared. The tickets from the first movie they had seen together.

“It’s perfect. It’s absolutely perfect.” He stood up from his seat and wrapped his arms around Magnus’ neck before he kissed his lips. “Thank you, thank you so much!”

“You’re more than welcome.”

VIII

“I’m sorry, we had a mission and…” Alec shook his head. No, that wasn’t it either. Slowly he started to doubt if there actually was a right way to do this.

He had promised to be home early tonight. He had promised that for once he wouldn’t work extra hours, that no matter what problem would occur, he would tell everyone that he had a date night with a very important someone.

Alec let out a deep sigh. He wasn’t good at saying sorry. He was even worse at coming up with ways to make up for all the things he did wrong, for all the mistakes he made. He didn’t even know where to start.

“Hey! Clary and I are gonna grab some food, wanna join?” Jace placed his hands on Alec’s shoulders and Alec’s lips curled up into a smile while he shook his head.

“No, I have other plans for tonight.” He straightened his back and lifted his chin. Without another word he left the institute. He knew exactly where he was heading and a few moments later he entered Taki’s diner.

“Mr. Lightwood!” The girl behind the counter greeted him with a smile on her face. “What can we do for you?” She cocked her head and Alec leaned casually on the counter while he squeezed his eyes.

“It’s maybe a weird question, but do you remember what Magnus and I ordered the first time we came here?”

For a short moment there was nothing but silence, but then the girl nodded. “Of course I do!”

Alec’s smiled brightened and he stood up again. “It would be really great if you could make it again so I can take it home to surprise Magnus.”

The girl giggled and then she nodded once more. “It will be our pleasure, Mr. Lightwood.”

IX

“Magnus?” Alexander had his arms around Magnus, holding onto him as tight as he could. The tip of his finger was drawing circles on Magnus’ sensitive and naked skin and Magnus curled his lips up into a smile.

Even though he had shared his bed with many men and women before, there was something different about sharing his bed with Alexander. He wasn’t sure what it was and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know what it was. He just wanted to enjoy it to the fullest and he wanted it to be like this for the rest of Alexander’s life. “Yes?” His voice was nothing but a soft whisper. He was too afraid to disturb the moment, to ruin the atmosphere, to fill the air with something that wasn’t supposed to be there.

“Can I see them again?” Alexander pushed himself up and he leaned on his elbows. His hairy chest was covered in sweat and his cheeks were the most beautiful shade of pink Magnus had ever seen.

“Can you see what again?” Magnus shook his head and he frowned his eyebrows.

“Your eyes.” Alexander paused for a moment and he licked his lips. “Can I see your wonderful eyes again? Please?” He avoided Magnus’ glance and Magnus took a deep breath before he curled his lips up into a bright smile.

“Of course you can.” He closed his eyes for a moment and when he opened them again he locked his glance with Alexander’s.

“They’re so beautiful.” Alexander shook his head and he stretched out his hand to touch Magnus’ cheek. “You’re so beautiful.”

“So are you.”

X

Alec groaned when the soft beep of his cellphone woke him up from his slumber. He knew that he needed to have a look at the screen, he knew that the message could be important, but the afterglow of last night was too pleasant to interrupt, to destroy.

“Alexander?” Magnus opened his eyes and the early morning sun reflected in his yellow irises.

“Did my phone wake you up?” Alec turned to his side, away from the annoying phone on the night stand.

“No…” Magnus curled his lips up into a smile. “I was already awake.” He placed his hand on Alec’s chest and a pleasant shiver rolled down Alec’s spine. “Shouldn’t you check if the message might be important?” Magnus raised his eyebrows, but Alec curled his fingers around Magnus’ wrist.

“They’re not as important as you are.” He tightened his grip and then his forehead touched Magnus’ while he closed his eyes. “I’m sure the institute can take care of itself for one day.” He took a deep breath and then he felt a pair of soft and tender lips kissing his.

“Don’t you think that if you don’t answer your phone, they might start looking for you?” Magnus spoke softly and then his lips traced Alec’s neck and his collar bone.

“Then we’ll go to a place where they won’t find us.” Alec placed his hands on Magnus’ chest while he opened his eyes again. “We’ve both been busy lately. Today I only want to be with you.” Alec locked his glance with Magnus’ and without looking he reached for his phone and searched for the button to switch it off.

“Well, I assume that means I should do the same then?” Magnus curled his lips up into a smile and with one snap of his fingers the phone next to his pillow disappeared to who knew where. “Where would you like to go today, Alexander? Paris? Milan? Beijng?”

“Anywhere…” Alec closed his eyes again and once more he kissed Magnus’ lips. “As long as it’s with you.”

[mystery-moose]

FIC: Angus McDonald and the Flight of the Flying V (17/?)

[AO3 link]

They’ve come a long way, but even ten years after the world was saved, they’re still not quite where they should be. A whim, a missing painting, and a handful of near-death experiences help a flip wizard and his apprentice bridge the gap.

Taako does his best. Angus takes some risks. Introductions are made, bonds are tested, and lessons are learned — better late than never.

Interlude III: Judgment

Taako shivered, and looked up from his book. He sat up and gently flicked his wrist. The dying embers of the campfire flared to life again. Angus stirred by his side, shifting and digging his bony elbow into Taako's ribs.

"Sorry, hon," he said quietly. "Did I wake you?"

"It's okay," the boy mumbled, dragging a knuckle across his eyes. "Did you sleep?"

"A little."

It wasn't technically a lie — in between poking at his recipe book and plotting out the next day's travel, he had closed his eyes and dozed for a bit. It was like sleep in much the same way that tofurkey was like turkey, which is to say not at all but it let people tell a pleasant lie to themselves.

"Besides, I don't exactly need sleep," Taako said casually, crossing his legs. "Not as much as you, anyway."

Angus hummed in acknowledgment. "Where's Kravitz?"

"He had to skedaddle for a bit," said Taako. "Another little necromantic fire to put out somewhere. He said he'd be back by morning."

And he'd better be, Taako thought as he glared up at the slowly brightening night sky, or else Angus would have to drive the second wagon, thanks to the busted hitch that half-elf sleazebag had sold them back in Armos. The kid could probably manage fine, but Taako would still much rather wait until Angus was older before he got to take control of anything heavier than a bicycle.

He looked back down at the boy and squeezed his shoulder. "How's the book?"

Before they'd left town yesterday, they'd seen a bookstore advertising a brand new Caleb Cleveland novel. Angus had spent the whole day with his nose in it, barely eaten dinner, and fallen asleep with it on his chest.

"Oh," he said, like he just realized it was still there. "I haven't finished it."

"But you like it?"

"I don't know yet," he said with yawn. "The ending's the most important part."

Taako gave him an odd look — there were moments he felt like he'd never understand the kid — then shrugged and turned back to his own book. "How many books are there?"

"Six." Angus grabbed the edge of Taako's cloak and pulled it over himself, snuggling in a little closer. "I read the first one when I was seven."

"Where'd ya get it?" Taako asked conversationally, turning a page.

A beat of silence.

"My parents."

Contrary to what he often enjoyed presenting himself as, Taako wasn't an idiot. The number of times Angus had talked about his parents could be counted on one hand, and then only in the broadest detail. To this day, three years after that bizarre little adventure on the Rockport Limited and two years after a close shave with the apocalypse, Taako still knew next to nothing about Angus's family. He might not have been a detective, but he could smell sadness of one kind or another, and did his best to dance around it.

And now he'd stepped right into it. Fabulous. Great work, Taako, killer job.

Taako closed his book and set it on his lap. He had no idea what to say. Ignoring it was always an option, one he usually defaulted to, but for whatever reason that didn't seem right this time. What else could he do, though? Tell him it was okay? He didn't even know what "it" was, or if it was actually okay to begin with. But he couldn't just sit there with that hanging over their heads all morning, some weird unspoken discomfort that no one acknowledged. Taako hated that shit.

With his arm wrapped around him, he squeezed Angus's shoulder and decided to wing it. "Hey, boychik," he said quietly. "Listen. It's, uh... y'know. I'm..."

"It's alright, sir," Angus said. "We don't have to talk about it."

Taako leaned back and exhaled — thank god, bullet dodged — but when he looked back down at Angus, the distant, forlorn look on his face made him think twice. Maybe they didn't have to talk about it. Maybe Angus didn't even want to talk about it. But while Taako would never push anyone to talk about anything, he knew when he had to say something.

"I didn't have parents."

Angus looked up with wide eyes. Taako reconsidered his words.

"I mean, I had parents," he said casually. "I assume. I just never knew them, is the thing."

This was the first time in years Taako told anyone this, but he kept it casual. It wasn't that big a deal, anyway. What's the point in being upset about something you never had to begin with?

"Had my sister, though," he said with a shrug. "So, not all alone. And we had our aunt, for a while. She was more than enough."

Angus blinked up at him, waited a beat, then asked, "What was she like?"

Taako smirked. "Big, bold, and beautiful. Never let anyone push her around, never did anything she didn't want to do, and never gave a tinker's damn about anything."

Angus grinned. "She sounds great."

Taako looked away, into the slow-burning embers of the campfire. "Yeah," he said with a little nod. "She was alright."

"Is she the one who taught you how to cook?"

Taako snorted and shook Angus's shoulder gently. "Got it in one, Columbo."

"She must have been a great chef," Angus said reverently.

"Well, she didn't teach me everything I know," he said. "Just everything she knew, about everything that mattered."

"Like what?"

"Before—" —she died— "—we were on our own, she did her best to get us ready for the world. Simple advice, mostly; never trust a smile, a free meal, or a limp handshake. Y'know."

Angus nodded. Taako felt something in his heart catch a little as he talked. He ignored it.

"She always said there's no such thing as good people, only a good person. And the only truly good person you'll ever know is yourself, because no one will ever care as much about you as you do."

"That's..." Angus hesitated. "It's awfully cynical, sir."

Taako looked down at him and shrugged. "Never steered me wrong."

"Is that still what you think?"

His immediate instinct was to say yes, of course, obviously. But he didn't. And the longer he went without saying it, the less it felt like the right answer.

Taako smiled a little and ruffled the boy's hair. "Get a little more sleep, huh, Agnes? Long day tomorrow."

Angus stared for a second, then curled back up into his side. Taako let his hand linger in his hair for a moment — too long, he needs a haircut, wonder if Kravitz would do it — then sighed and settled back against the log. He glanced down at the young adult novel by his feet (Caleb Cleveland and the Case of the Cursed Calzone) and briefly considered reading it himself. Not that he was super invested in what happened to Caleb after he took that barrel over the waterfall in Caleb Cleveland and the Case of the Vicious Vineyard, but y'know, if it was there—

"My parents taught me a lot of things."

Taako looked down, startled. Angus was staring at the fire.

"They gave me a lot of things too," he said simply, "but the lessons were what mattered the most. They taught me how to read, how to write. How to speak, how to think, how to act properly. Manners and etiquette and... all that stuff."

Taako was very still, and very quiet.

"You know what the most important thing they taught me was?" Angus asked, and before Taako could even think of trying to kill the tension by answering, he continued, "What 'good' was. How to be good. How to do good. How to recognize good in other people. It was really important for everyone, they said, but especially for detectives. Solving mysteries isn't all about book-smarts. It's about judgment."

Angus looked up at Taako. Something in the boy's eyes looked very serious.

"I'm a very good judge of character, sir. And I know that no matter what you think, you're a good person."

Then Angus settled back in, closed his eyes, and yawned again. A few minutes later, he was snoring quietly.

Taako stared at him for a while. He looked down at the book at his feet, around at the two Sizzle It Up!-branded wagons parked by the campsite, and up at the slowly brightening pre-dawn sky. There was a pleasant mist forming in the cool, dewy morning. Taako took a deep breath, settled back, and covered his eyes with his hat.

"Thanks, pumpkin."

Angus woke up and blinked blearily as he lifted his head off the desk and adjusted his glasses. It was dark outside, and the soft alchemical lights of the library were too bright. Then, in the half-lucid state of drowsiness that comes after too long a nap, he had a thought. Idle at first, it slowly crystalized into a full-blown revelation.

He shot up in his seat. He was so stupid. How could he have forgotten to ask?

Angus grabbed the art history book containing the picture of Flight of the Flying V and raced out of the library. He practically sprinted all the way home, leaping up the stairs and bursting into his own apartment.

"Taako?!" he called out.

No immediate answer. Angus ran to his bedroom, and found the pocket spa set up. He threw aside the cloth flap and ran inside. Taako was on one of the loungers, in a terrycloth robe and bunny slippers, a fashion magazine laying over his face. Angus rushed over and shook him awake. Taako took this less than kindly, thrashing about briefly and kicking his legs.

"Taako, it's me!"

He tore the magazine off his face. His expression softened from anger to confusion. "Agnes?"

"What color was the Hand?"

"What?"

"The color!" Angus shook his shoulders. "When she cast Bigby's Hand, what color was it?"

Taako told him, and Angus nearly fell to his knees. He looked down, eyes flickering, staring at nothing, working it out in his head... and it fit. All of it. He looked up at Taako, who stared at him with that cocked eyebrow that said he was being especially weird, and Angus realized he was grinning like a maniac.

"I know who did it."