#when first fanfiction was made

[joonebugg]

Crazy to see people shipping something that I was basically a founding father of

[2btheanswertothequestion]

(part 3 of November Paramedic; part 2 is here.)

When Gareth mentioned a plan to locate Eddie’s paramedic in shining armor, Eddie assumed it'd be him getting into various accidents all over Indianapolis. It's something the little shit would've found funny, okay! But, Gareth's plan is much less hazardous and slightly more logical: lurk around the university until they spot him. Like a pair of drug dealers trying to tempt the goody-two-shoes protagonist into addiction and sin on an 80s Saturday morning cartoon.

It's not the simplest task since they don't know when Steve might be there. Also, other responsibilities mean they can only spare so many hours loitering. So, thirteen days post-hatching plan and nineteen days post-meeting Steve (not that Eddie's been counting or anything), with nothing to show for their ethically questionable behavior, Eddie is ready to give up. Especially since both of them have a rare simultaneous day off. Usually, those are spent jamming, smoking, playing D&D… literally anything other than this.

"This is fucking stupid," he says, cigarette clenched between his teeth. "We're not gonna run into him."

"Sure we are," Gareth says. He drops his butt among the dozens they've chain-smoked and lights another without meeting Eddie's gaze. "We're getting closer. I can feel it."

"The only thing you're feeling is delusional. It's time to give up."

"Eddie, c'mon-"

"Nope." One last drag and Eddie stomps out his cig. "Fuck this; I'm out."

He stalks toward his van at the far end of the parking lot. Gareth curses before running after him.

"Dude!" he exclaims, jogging to keep up with Eddie's longer strides. "You can't just give up! What about what you said-"

"I was being stupid. What was I even imagining? We orchestrate another meeting and, what, I use my freakish wiles and seduce him? And then we'll live happily ever after…" Eddie shakes his head. "It doesn't work like that. He'd probably turn out to be a douche anyhow."

"No, listen!" Gareth seizes Eddie's arm and yanks him to a stop in the middle of the lot. "You always do this. Self-sabotage and cut things short, even when there's potential."

Eddie scoffs. "You know what else always happens? I end up liking them more than they like me. It's not fun."

"You don't know it'll be like that this time. You have to try."

"No."

Eddie takes a step back. He's done; he's out. Gareth reaches for his wrist to pull him back in. He jerks away, almost losing his footing and stumbling into the burgundy car behind him. Gareth's arms shoot out to help, but Eddie steadies himself before crashing. For a second, silence reigns as they assure everyone's on solid ground. Then Eddie opens his mouth to once and for all-

"Eddie? Gareth?"

Their heads snap to the side, eyes landing on… Max? Looking unusually dressy in high-waisted shorts and a fitted top under an oversized jacket, and her hair in a high ponytail. She's got her skateboard under her arm, a messenger bag with a textbook sticking out, and a confused furrow between her eyebrows.

"What are you doing here?" she asks.

Fuck. They can't tell her the truth – she'll never let him live it down. Fortunately, Gareth realizes this too, because he says:

"Uh, I go to school here? What are you doing here? The math building is way over there."

She rolls her eyes and leans on the burgundy car. It's a shiny BMW M5 – the limited anniversary edition. Jesus fucking Christ, Eddie almost dented that thing! It's worth more than his life. And Max is slouching against it like it's nothing. He could warn her not to scratch it, but she's unlikely to care; she's always been metal that way.

"Waiting for my friends," she says. "We have dinner on Tuesdays."

Eddie's ears ignite. Dinner? With friends? While wearing what's basically a date outfit?

"Ooohhh…" he says, sharing a grin with Gareth. "And do these friends include someone special?"

She shrugs, looking anywhere but at him. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"C'mon, Red! You're killing me! I need to know if he's good enough for you."

His fingers hover over her ponytail, as if to tug at it. She slaps his hand away.

"You're annoying."

He laughs. This terrible day just became infinitely better. He won't rest until he gets what he wants – or until she punches him, which'll probably come first. He's about to tell her so when a voice calls her name. Both turn to look, and…

It's a boy Max's age. He's beaming and waving, quickening his steps toward her. She smiles too, almost shyly, as she waves back. It's the perfect opportunity for teasing, if Eddie's day hadn't just become infinitely better.

His tongue is heavy, his skin is itching, his heart is bruising his ribs from the inside. Sweat is gathering in his pits and it's getting a little hard to breathe. Because walking half a pace behind the boy, carrying a huge duffel with such ease it might actually be stuffed with feathers, is… is…

"Yesssss!" Gareth hisses next to him. He may also be fist-pumping. Eddie isn't looking.

"Hey!" The boy stops in front of Max. "Sorry, practice ran late."

"It's okay," she says, cooler than ice, though her eyes are glittering. "I just got here."

She says something else, or maybe the boy does? It's all background noise, because Steve has caught up. Steve, in jeans and a polo that must've been tailored to his exact measurements because oooooooooohhhh boy. Steve, unshouldering the bag, muscles shifting and straining under his shirt with the movement. Steve, smiling, his golden eyes flying over Eddie.

"Hey! Eddie and Gareth, right?"

Eddie draws a sharp breath. He remembers!

"Y-Yeah!" he squeaks, hands fluttering to either wave or shake hands, ultimately doing neither. "Hi! You're here!"

"I am," Steve says, casual, as if inane conversations with former patients happen on the regular.

(It better not – Eddie doesn't do well in competitive settings.)

Max, keen eyes darting between them, asks, "You know each other?"

"Met at work," Steve says. "Or, I was working and he…"

"Ah." Max taps her temple. "That."

"How do you know them?" the boy asks her.

She points at Eddie. "Neighbor. And that's the guy who dumpster dives outside our apartment building."

Gareth flips her off. Eddie would laugh, but he's busy pretending he doesn't know what Steve looks like shirtless. It's hard (pun slowly growing more relevant) – his gaze keeps dropping to the polo's undone top button. Steve is just as gorgeous out of uniform, and now Eddie's thighs are tingling with want. He could stare at him forever…

Unfortunately, 'forever' is cut short by a woman arriving in a flurry. Wait, no. 'Flurry' implies some sort of graceful whimsy, while this person… she's a hurricane crashing into a house.

"Sorry I'm late! Nielsen wouldn't stop talking and got angry when people started leaving because it's an important lecture so this girl called him out for not keeping time because he goes on all these tangents and he said they're interesting tidbits and she said it's disrespecting our time and-" She pauses for breath. "You don't care, do you?"

Max, Steve, and the boy shake their heads.

"Right. Sorry." The woman turns to Eddie and Gareth. "Hi! I'm Robin. And you are?"

"My neighbor and his friend. Steve treated his concussion," Max rattles off, glaring at them. "You didn't answer my question: why are you here?"

Gareth frowns. "I told you," he says, pointing at the building. "School." He points at himself. "Student."

Max glares harder. "You don't have class on Tuesdays. And Eddie doesn't go here at all."

"I had stuff I needed to drop off."

"Is tagging along a crime? Jesus."

Max doesn't reply, though her glare remains.

Robin hums. "Okay, so this is super-enjoyable, I love just standing around, but I'm starving, so…" She looks at Steve, who nods.

"Yeah, we're going," he says, but neither moves. He glances at Eddie, which makes her glance at Eddie, and then they make a series of eyebrow-movements at each other, ending in a shared smile. Steve asks, "Have you guys eaten yet?"

Eddie shakes his head, pulse racing. Is this going where he thinks it is?

"D'you wanna come with? There's this diner we like…"

Holyshityesitis!

"Yeah!" Fuck, too eager. "I mean, uh, sure, sounds good."

"Cool." Grinning, Steve clicks a remote car key; the burgundy BMW beeps. What the fuck? How high is a paramedic's salary?! "Did you drive here?"

"I, uh…" Eddie falters. Shit, wasn't he supposed to? It's been three weeks and he feels fine – he thought he was in the green!

"Nope! I did!" Gareth says, 'proving' it by hauling his house keys from his pocket and jingling them.

Steve nods. "Should be safe for you to drive again, but the less strain you put on your brain, the better. Even a mild concussion isn't anything to sneeze at."

"Y-Yeah, I've been taking it easy. Basically done nothing. Until now."

Max snorts. Eddie is going to pour coffee through her mail slot.

They decide Eddie and Gareth will follow Steve's car to the diner, since Steve can't fit all of them (the real reason he asked if they drove here, duh). It's good because Eddie gets the chance to panic/gush/collect himself in the privacy of his van. It's bad because Gareth drives, lest their fib be revealed. Gareth spends the ten-minute journey gloating about driving Eddie's beloved girl, interspersed with 'I told you so!'s.

The diner is cozy, all wooden furniture and sepia photographs on the walls. A graying waitress who smells like tobacco directs them to a booth and takes their orders. An awkward silence then falls as they wait for someone to speak.

The boy clears his throat. "My name is Lucas, by the way. I don't think I said." After shaking his hand and introducing themselves, Lucas says to Eddie, "I think Max has mentioned you."

"Oh yeah? I've been dying for her to mention y- Ow!"

Eddie rubs where Max kicked his shin. Her glare is murderous. Lucas is blushing happily, though.

"So, what d'you guys do?" Robin asks.

Right. Time to small-talk like adults. Eddie gets his job as a mechanic out of the way, then gives the word to Gareth, who tells them he's a creative writing major. Robin turns out to be getting a masters in linguistics and Lucas studies biology.

"I don't actually know what I want to do, but biology feels broad enough to give me options, y'know? I can go to med school, or forensics, or, I don't know, paleontology?" he says. Max glows brighter with every word that comes out of his mouth. Cute.

This then segues into talking about their friends, who by the sound of it lead incredibly interesting lives.

"Dustin's at MIT, Mike's at Oxford, Will's in San Francisco…" Lucas says, counting on his fingers.

Max interjects, "El's in Africa building houses and teaching kids English."

"Erica is still at home, finishing high school and drowning in early acceptance letters to, like, every Ivy League there is," Steve says with a look of pure pride.

"Nancy and Jonathan – they're our age – are chasing scoops in Afghanistan… " Robin says.

"... and Argyle is also in California," Lucas finishes.

Eddie whistles. "And here we are, still in Indianapolis."

"Dude, I'm surprised I got this far," Steve says. "Wouldn't've managed without her."

He jerks a thumb in Robin's direction, who preens at the acknowledgment. Robin's cool, Eddie decides. Garrulous but fun and nice… and verrrrrrrrry close to Steve. The kind of close where they're always in each other's space. Where they wordlessly transfer food between their plates. Where Steve unceremoniously wipes a speck of ketchup off Robin's chin after she repeatedly fails to get it. They're comfortable, but not necessarily romantically affectionate. Like they're siblings rather than lovers.

(Dear God, if you are in heaven, let them be siblings.)

Conversation flows. They joke around, tell stories, swap opinions. Robin gets passionate about tonal shifts when stage shows are adapted to film, and Eddie tries not to stare at Steve's mouth as he eats. And then, once their plates are cleaned and they're waiting for dessert, Gareth leans his elbows on the table and fixes Steve with a purposeful look.

"I figured out where I've seen you before."

Eddie stiffens.

Steve blinks. "At campus, right?"

"Thought so, but no. I realized it's actually…" Gareth chuckles. "It's ridiculous, but uh, my mom had this calendar…"

Steve recoils, red flooding his face. Robin, Lucas, and Max shriek in delight, Robin grabbing Steve's arm and shaking it as he hides behind his hands.

"And my mom," Gareth says between bursts of laughter, "she's shameless, all right? She kept it in our kitchen. So during, what was it, November?"

"November," Steve confirms, muffled.

"For 30 days, if I wanted to check the date or make a notation… I saw you."

Tears stream down Robin's face, she's laughing so hard. She and Max have started chanting 'Slut! Slut! Slut!' at the still crimson Steve.

"You don't understand," Lucas says, gesturing for emphasis. "We've been waiting for someone to come up and say 'hey, weren't you…?' for years. Thank you so much!"

"Hey, thank my mom," Gareth says. Eddie's quite stunned he'd throw his own mother under the bus like that. She's a really nice person, too!

"Makes sense," Max says. "Moms love Steve."

"All parents do," Lucas says.

Cackling, Robin pinches Steve's cheek. "Gotta hide your mom and your dad around Steve!"

Steve bats her off, flushed but smiling. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. You got your wish, now shut it."

That only makes the three restart the chant to ridicule him for his harlotry. Steve's indignant squawk that 'it was for charity!' merely has everyone laugh more.

And Eddie? Well. As he sits beholding this man who works as a paramedic and drives a luxury car, who models for charity and allows his friends to mock him for it, who blushes and giggles when they lovingly call him a whore…

All Eddie can think is that he's in fucking trouble.

Afterward, it only makes sense for Eddie to drive Max home. Steve shakes his hand outside the diner, saying it was nice to see him again. Eddie, not knowing how to ask for Steve's contact info without seeming weird, agrees. He waits until the BMW drives off, then tells Gareth to get the fuck out of his seat. Gareth relocates to the backseat, whining since Max already called shotgun.

The initial minutes, they're quiet. Then Max turns to Gareth and says:

"When were you telling me Eddie is your mom?"

"Huh?"

"You said you knew about the calendar because of your mom. But that's not true."

The warmth drains from Eddie's face; his knuckles crack around the steering wheel. Gareth's expression is the epitome of 'oh shit' when he meets Eddie's gaze in the rear-view mirror.

"Yes, it is," Gareth says.

"It's not," Max says.

"It is!"

"It's not! The calendar was for 2021, and in November '21 you were a freshman and had already moved into the dorms! If your mom kept it in her kitchen, you wouldn't have seen it!"

She scowls at Gareth, mouth pinched and eyes flashing, daring him to contradict her.

Gareth swallows thickly. "It… wasn't for 2021."

"Yes, it was."

"How do you know?"

She puts her hands in her lap and lifts her chin, almost primly. Eddie gasps as the penny drops.

Gareth screams, "WHAT!"

"You have it?" Eddie cries. "Why do you have it?"

She scoffs. "You know why – you've seen his pecs."

"I don't- Okay, how're you so sure it's me?"

"Because you spent all of dinner looking like you wanted to crawl inside his mouth and live there." Her nose wrinkles. "At least I hope it was his mouth you want to crawl into-"

She's cut off by Gareth shouting "I can't hear you! Lalalalalalala-"

Eddie crumples in his seat. He's depleted of blood, air, life, everything. Behind, Gareth is grilling Max for information: are Steve and Robin together? Is Steve single? Is he queer?

Max replies: no, yes, and 'that's not for me to tell, moron'.

Gareth nods, satisfied. "That means he is. If he was straight, you'd say so." He slaps Eddie's arm. "You got a shot, man!"

"You… don't know that…" Eddie wheezes.

Max tuts, shaking her head. "You actually want to hit on my chauffeur."

"He prefers the term 'seduce'," Gareth says.

Eddie smacks his face into the steering wheel at the next red light.

------------------------------

Tag list: @rougenancy, @raisedbylibrarians, @yourebuckingkiddingme, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @emma77645, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @eddielives1986, @stevesbipanic, @the-redthread, @fandemonium-takes-its-toll, @henderdads, @gay-little-bitch, @lordofthepointygerbils, @lenore1232, @imzadidragonfly, @zerokrox-blog, @eddiemunsonswife, @cherrycolas-things, @ediewentmissing, @princess-eddie, @atombombbibunny, @ajamlessbaby, @dogswithforks, @grimmfitzz, @cutiecusp, @cuips-not-cute, @manicallydepressedrobot, @messrs-weasley, @madaboutmunson, @mightbeasleep, @suikatto, @brassreign, @snapshotmaestro, @bea-sayan, @courtjestermunson, @csinnamon-fox, @steveisabicon, @spectrum-spectre, @spinmewriteround, @just-super-fucking-gay, @escapingthereality, @oneweirdcryptid, @deehellcat, @misticageri, @lovelyscot, @olivethenerd16, @linkydinky06, @rynnytintin, @anything-thats-rock-and-roll,

I won't be adding more to the tag list because there are already so many of you. Instead, I'll be tagging the four remaining parts (it'll definitely be seven in total, btw) as #steddie fic: november paramedic. Hopefully, they'll show up in the tags and you'll see them that way.

Thank you for reading 🖤

Part 4

[mostlyvoid-partiallyflowers]

The thing I love about fanfiction that focuses on “irredeemable” characters is that most of the time it says, “you are forgivable, you are lovable, you are important.” It says that you are capable of growth and that you can overcome your past. And I think seeing that as a teenager saved me. I thought I was unlovable and then I got older and started understanding the world through my own eyes rather than my parents’ and I started recognizing my mistakes and I thought I was unforgivable. But fanfiction told me, “you can change and you can be wanted and you can be loved,” and that gave me the space to forgive myself and love myself.

[polarisbibliotheque]

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

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

Pairing: Vergil x Reader

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

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

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

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

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

Devil May Halloween 2023 - Vergil's Path

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It had its perks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*

“Me and Vergil… We have a thing.”

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

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

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

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

“Oh.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was Vergil.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That was a way to solve things, but…

“My clothes…”

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

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

A nice surprise that made you smile.

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

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

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

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

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

*

“Your fingers are cold.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Angels do.”

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

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

And his heart wasn’t used to that.

----

*Inferno, by Dante Allighieri

[prolibytherium]

Somehow that ongoing 1,500,000+ word The Beatles Paul McCartney x John Lennon fanfiction I read includes like the most absolute minuscule details of the Beatles lore, like tiny little things where I was like "that can't be real" but I looked it up and it was (IE a guy claiming to be Jesus Christ barging in on one of their recording sessions). But it does NOT include the apparently real group masturbation sessions

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 110

Okay so we all know about how Regis told Dandelion in the books that his blood smelled nice, which was most likely about how none of his wounds were infected and whatnot, but what if it wasn't? What if Jaskier has a special type of blood, whether magically made, cursed, or perhaps just o- or some shit lmfao Either way, Vampires LOVE this shit. Their favorite delicacy when they choose to partake. This becomes a problem when Jaskier has a hurt foot and Geralt takes him to a medic. A vampire, whether the medic, the medic's assistant, or just someone lurking outside who caught a whiff of the blood, is like "Jackpot!" and tells all his little vampire friends, and now they're hosting a big feast just to drain this guy. But it's such a delicacy, the vampire decides maybe they should only drain him a little, so he can keep the human around, so the human can regain his blood, and they can drink from him AGAIN! Oh yes, marvelous! He throws the best parties! Jaskier wakes up with a horrible headache. He's dressed incredibly fancy, though he doesn't think these are his clothes- Speaking of which, he also doesn't think this is his room at the inn... Is he- Is he fucking chained to a dining table? "Let the buffet begin! I hope you're thirsty my friends!~" Fuck. He hopes Geralt gets here quick-

[total-drama-brainrot]

sierra making a fic after drumheller

Accurate. I'd be something like,

Notes: haiiii o(^▽^)o it's me again!! sorry i was gone for so long, i was competing in the newest season of TOTAL DRAMA q(≧▽≦q) !!!!!!! anyway, here's a quick 15k drabble i wrote in about an hour or so (*/ω＼*) i'm in the hospital right now after being caught up in a jet explosion and i'm still dealing with the smoke inhalation, broken ribs, third degree burns and baldness, but i'm not supposed to talk about that because SPOILERS!! o((⊙﹏⊙))o but all of this new free time means i can write more fics!! o(〃＾▽＾〃)o

And the fic itself is a y/n self-insert wish fulfilment RPF of the Drama Brothers, using one of their song names as the title.

[problemswithbooks]

BNHA Ch. 429

So, I guess Toga is dead, and people are losing it.

I get why people liked her--she was actually queer, being pan/bisexual. She was representation for them and that's rare in shonen manga. But here's the thing--she was bad representation at best and insulting at worst. Nor do I think she was made queer because Hori really wanted to represent a queer girl. Himiko was always the author's poorly hidden fetish--she just was. She liked girls as much as boys because Hori wanted to draw a girl touching sexually on another girl. You can see this in how he draws her and Ochako in solo pics together.

I mean, people seem to understand this when it comes to Momo and her outfit being overly sexual or that both Himiko and Hagakure's Quirks either leave them naked or they have to be naked to use them. These are excuses to draw girls in a sexual manner. Himiko being into other girls is the same thing and that's the kindest interpretation.

Given how Himiko acts and her Quirk being heavily coded sexual desire, and therefore her use of it against someone unwilling being sexual assault, it could just being playing into harmful stereotypes of predatory gays.

As a queer person myself I just found Toga insulting. She was designed to be overly sexual and give the male author a female character that he could draw being suggestive with his other female characters. When he did flesh out her character, her backstory was eventually the trope/fear of straight people, that gay people will be so overcome with their lust that they end up sexually assaulting them.

In the end Ochako accepts this part of Toga and says she'll giver her blood forever, but as much as a lot of readers took that that as some deep lesbian confession, for me it really fell flat. Hori never really gave any of the main kids time to actually learn about their villain or show how that changed their minds toward them. Shoto only works because Touya is his brother (even though he admits he barely remembers him). But Ochako goes from not thinking of Toga at all pre-first war, to one thought about her during her speech, to suddenly caring about her so much she--given how Toga's quirk is coded, is willing to essentially fulfill Toga's kink for the rest of their lives.

It's weird and it comes out of nowhere. It's made even stranger because Toga doesn't actually change or show remorse for anything she did, which included personally hunting and murdering people before she joined the LOV. None of the death and destruction she is also partially responsible for is brought up either, something that Ochako was rightfully upset about during the first war when less people and property had been destroyed. Ochako just accepts everything about her suddenly and her past serious crimes are forgotten so they can cuddle and cry.

Am I shocked Toga died--a little. I didn't think Hori would have the guts to kill off a young girl character, especially one that he clearly got a lot of joy drawing in sexy poses. But at the same time, once he killed off Shigaraki and ended Touya's story with his slow death, I'm not surprised he went the same route with Toga.

This isn't Naruto--Hori isn't really kind to characters that do something wrong, especially if they don't try and change. Enji, Bakugo, Hawks, and Aoyama all sort of got punished for what they did. Enji is the worst off, being permanently crippled, missing an arm and burned everywhere. Bakugo's hand is damaged, his heart weaker, plus he feels bad that Izuku lost his Quirk so they can't compete the same way he wanted them to. Aoyama, despite doing way less wrong and even helping his class during the forest raid, still leaves school because he doesn't feel he earned being there yet. Hawks lost his Quirk and even though him running the HPSC could be seen as good for him, Hawks always wanted a break, but now he has one of the most time consuming and stressful jobs out there.

So, if this is what characters who actively did good things and even changed and fought to be better get, what would characters who never changed and never did anything positive for anyone but their friends/themselves get?

Before the last Arc started, when so many people said the LoV were 100% going to be redeemed I had doubts and always thought it wouldn't make sense with how the story presented redemption or treated other non-LoV villains in the past. That if the main LoV did get some happy ending where they were bffs with the main cast it would clash with how other characters had been treated.

That doesn't mean that I think how Shigaraki, Toga, and Touya ended up in the manga was well done. I think their endings fit far better then a last minute redemption would have, but at the same time you can feel how rushed everything has been since the end of the first war arc. Hori was done with this story months if not years ago, yet he was contractually obligated to finish it. Because of that I think he left out as much as possible. As much as I think he's written some pretty obsessive stuff, particularly towards women, I can't really fully blame him cutting corners or the story being shit at the end.

We know Manga authors, particularly those that work with Jump are treated like shit. That they suffer incredibly long hours at times not even getting to go home for days. We've gotten messages for Hori saying he's sick quite a few times. On top of that, weekly story telling is not a great way to tell a cohesive narrative. Ideas probably change week to week or at least month to month and you can't go back and change the last chapter no matter how much you need or want to. Then you remember he also gave a lot of ideas to the people who made the movies, which would also change his plans for how he wanted the main story to go.

The story is bad--it has been for a while, but I think a lot of people put their hopes on their favorite characters getting a happy ending, even when there were signs that probably wasn't going to be the case. I know how much it sucks when a character you love gets a shitty ending (Stain was my fav, but he got an absolute dogshit ending) but at least, knowing what I know about the industry I can't really blame Hori the way I see some other people doing. Criticize it, sure, but saying Hori hates his readers or is horrible writer isn't true. BNHA was popular for a reason--he's great with characters and the beginning of the story had some great pacing. We'll never know, but I wouldn't be surprised if BNHA could have been amazing if Hori had been treated better and the story hadn't needed a chapter every week.

If anything BNHA has taught me how much a story suffers when authors/artists are treated like crap and forced to work past burnout.

[hypnagogics]

i wanna show yall this rn because i'm excited about it tbh...it's gonna be cheesy and fluffy and silly. (can you tell i have way too much fun in picsart- that means i genuinely can't tell if the header thingy looks atrocious, cringe sure but legit can't decide just how bad). the imagine that inspired this.

[rahabs]

This Horror Which Bleeds [ read on A03 ]

He'd known, realistically, that Lilith was gone, and that she'd no intention of coming back. The knowledge didn't make Lucifer anymore prepared to find her mark engraved on the Radio Demon's soul.

Charlie asks her father to check in with Alastor after the hotel's reconstruction. In the process, Lucifer makes a discovery, and things get worse before they get better.

[morickkk]

I Know

( hinted scarian ) desert duo fic

Summary - after limited life, everyone was soon back at their respective servers. There were still times that they have to look at their own surroundings, especially above them. Scared that something will explode again. Grian and Scar on the other hand was still there at the desert.

( Sets in during buttercup timelineee )

Grian was at their cherry tree base , just trying to figure out their last plan to get back on the goat. He thought of getting rid of the man’s redstone again but he knew the other would just start to get more for himself with all the diamonds they own now.

He sighs at the thought and lays down flat on the ground, ignoring the bed near him thats just two blocks away from him. After a bit, grian was still there, only head empty.

– Grian! “ The man in a red jumper groaned in pretend annoyance after hearing the voice. On the other hand, the guy yelling just kept on calling out for him until he was near.

“ Oh mister, don't just lay down there! It’s cold! “ Grian ignored the other by closing his eyes and putting his left arm on them. He heard a humm of disappointment on the other.

Silence was there, it was calming but also uncomfortable. There were only the two of them, the man with a moustache was a bit busy with their work and the other two decided to procrastinate on theirs.

Grian decided to remove his hands and flutter his eyes open, the first thing he saw was the brunette squatting beside him while his face was looking down directly at the other.

Grian was startled but not enough for them to stop staring at each other without any thought of talking or moving. After a minute of two Scar finally spoke.

“ You should lay down on somewhere more comfortable “ they were still on that position, awkwardly trying to communicate on who should move first.

“ No. “

Scar sighed at this response and finally stood up, the other got a little disappointed at that but his face fell while looking at what the brunette was about to do.

The man took a chair, enough for him to reach the leaves that's a substitute for a roof, he quickly moved the leaves to the side and made a bright ray of sunshine hitting the spot he wanted.

He then moved away from the area and smirked at the other. Meanwhile the dirty blonde was there trying to cover the somehow annoying light oh his face, too stubborn to even move away from his place.

“ G, c’mon now you can't be that stubborn “

“ I can, and I will! “

Scar rolled his eyes, and walked on his way to the buttercup meeting table. He pulled out a bundle filled with hia ‘ oh so famous ‘ cookies.

“ You hungry? “ Scar asked. “ Only if it’s not bread. “

Scar chuckles a bit, “ Are cookies bread? “

“ Depends if you put yeast and water in them. Do you? “

“ No! Never! “

“ Can I have some? “

“ You’re going to need to get off of there to get them “

Grian jolts up, glaring at the other whose face was in their signature smirk.

“ I hate youuu.. “

Grian stands up and walks over to the other chair beside the terraformer, The brunette handed the other the bundle while munching one of his handmades.

“ I forgot that you make really good kisses, I missed this. “

“ Why thank you, Grian! I’m glad you liked them . “

Grian humms in response, trying to not make it awkward as it ever was. “ Grian, did you ever regret it? “

“ What? “

“ oh uhm–Nothing. “

Grian heard what the other said loud and clear, but he was confused about the statement. He had many regrets, definitely more than what you can ever think of, he was just confused on what it was about.

He looked back at the bundle, filled with cookies.

Cookies.

He sees now.

“ I don’t know. “ He replies

“ I see. “ The hint of despair was there.

“ Do you want to talk about it? “ Scar looks at him, clear sorrows in his eyes. Suddenly Grian didn’t feel like eating the pastries.

Silence.

It was just silence. They knew they would have to wait for a decade to get any answer, they knew that both of them were still in pain. What they didn’t know is how they’re going to approach each other without the unfortunate atmosphere.

“ I miss mumbo. “

“ We saw him yesterday. “

“ Yeah, and I still miss him “

“ I miss us. “

Scar fiddled with his the last cookie on his hand, playing with the texture of it while knowing he won’t eat it after.

Grian was still quiet, dull, not reacting physically. Inside it did hurt, it hurt trying to leave.

“ You miss the desert, not us. “

“ It was never about the desert, G. “

“ You only cared about the monopoly. “

“ I cared about us. “

“ Surely not. “

“ I did. “

“ I was betrayed, Scar. “ Grian winced, saying his former partner’s name shouldn't be this painful.

“ I know, I’m sorry. “

“ They made me kill you. “

“ I know, and I apologise. “

“ I didn’t want to. “

“ And yet you did it again.

“ Im… I didn’t mean t... “

Scar stood up, the air felt suffocating. He couldn't look at the other, could watch the other leave. He couldn't.

“ Scar…Are you still there? “

“ You can look if you want to know. “

“ I’m sorry. “

“ I know. “

“ I’m so sorry. “

“ I know. “

“ Im.. “ Grian choked a sob, his breath hitched and it started to get really hard to breath.

“ Grian.. I forgive you. “

“ You always do. “

“ I know. Maybe next time I won’t “

“ That’s a lie, we both know it “

Scar hums in response. “ Well—Did you regret it? “

“ I regret everything. “

That’s good to know. Scar thought.

“ I’m also sorry. “ Grian looked at the other.

“ I made you feel unsafe back in uhm, last life? No double life. Uhm “

“ You shouldn’t be. “

“ Back when you were gone in the last life game. I thought. I thought you’d start yelling at me and be really mad, y’know it was a scary thought Grian! Really it was! “

“ I knew, I heard. “

“ What? “

“ I saw, I watched, I knew. “

“ And you didn’t bother telling me? “

“ We weren’t exactly allies that time. “

“ Right. Right… “

“ I was never mad. More of. Disappointed “

“ You sound like a mom! “ He tried to lighten the mood up.

“ Really Scar, I was disappointed. Not to you but myself. “

“ Scar I killed you again, by my own fault. The last thing I wanted to do! “

The brunette walks back at the table, not sitting but just standing in front of the other.

“ It wasn’t your fault. Anyone would have died in that situation. “

“ I killed us. I ruined this us that you oh so missed Scar. Yet you always seem to forgive its— this whole thing! Big distraction to get away from all my problems, from our problems! I didn’t want to think about it. Scar. Please. “

“ It’s okay G. “

“ It’s not. “

“ I know. “

“ We’re a mess aren’t we? “

“ Yeah. I forgive you by the way. “

“ I know. “

( ill probably update this time to time if i see something wrong

----------

Word count : 1,126 ( aint no way )

Thank you @sardix for the idea, i didnt really make the uhm the story revolve aroudn the prompt, hope u like it though

@misted-buttercup-enjoyer -- here mate, for soem reason the other person who wanted to be tagged isn't working

[mollywog]

Thanksgivinglark concept

Modern AU - College/Post College

Katniss and Peeta stole glances all through school but never spoke before graduating and moving away from their small town. It isn’t until Katniss comes home for Thanksgiving dinner at her mother’s new beau’s that she sees him again.

It’s a second chance Everlark story… except it’s the wrong Everlark: Mrs. Everdeen and Mr. Mellark

[sasukimimochi]

i've been thinking about drawing them more i just don't have a lot of ideas since i'm not currently working on their story right now. but i was streaming and the opportunity presented itself, so i gave it a shot. i know how much you guys like my corpse wwx, so i couldn't just not draw a follow-up at some point!! i really need to work on their story more when i get time lol

anyway wwx has retained a lot of his wits despite being slow, which means even though his face is a bit lacking, he is still his old self as much as he can be in such a situation.

Plus here's a bonus cuz i was trying to draw more but couldn't think of anything haha

Read more about TDKW here on my masterpost, or see the original drawing there with these two as well!

[theflyingfeeling]

💖 it's here, it's pink, it's sparkly, and full of fluff 💖

Hiiiiii and welcome to witness my attempt at an Olli/Allu Advent Calendar, in which I'll give you ~a cute little something~ about these two idiots in love almost every day until December 24! My plan is to use prompts from this list to either write a fic based on the prompt or just some good ol' delulu thoughts if all else fails. I cannot guarantee there'll be a post literally every day, but I'm really excited to try this out and I thank you for your support along the way in advance 💝

The biggest thanks and a million hugs go to one of my favourite human beings @kraeuterhexchen for making the adorable banner!! I mean helloooooo?? 😭 Go show them some love ❣️

For December 1, the prompt list is titled One True Pairing Moments, and the prompt I chose was 'calling just to hear their voice' 🥺 You can read the fic below, I hope you like it <3

.

PS. Even though this is an advent calendar of sorts, I'm not planning on making this particularly Christmassy. I hope no one minds terribly!

~

Falling for Aleksi had, in a way, sneaked up on Olli, at least if he fooled himself a little. He could pretend he didn’t feel any different about the man than he did about, say, Joonas or Tommi, but that strategy only worked for so long – that is to say, approximately until Aleksi as much as smiled softly at him from across a room or bumped his shoulder into his jovially when walking down the street and Olli would feel his breath getting caught in his throat or stumble in his words, his tongue tangled like shoelaces, which was so unlike him as well and frustrated him to no end. It really took a special kind of fool to not only develop some level of feelings for a friend, a colleague, a bandmate for Christ’s sake, but also become so hopelessly enamored with him that you rolled awake in bed in the dead of night, grabbing your phone and tossing it back on the nightstand again and again because you couldn’t decide whether or not you should, on some erratic 2 o’clock impulse, call him to let him know he was the very reason for your insomnia. 

Turning on his back, Olli groaned (only a little desperately) as he remembered losing himself in the lingering hug they had shared just before the arrivals lobby at the airport, inhaling Aleksi’s scent and wishing they wouldn’t have to go home just yet, even if Olli was more than ready to finally sleep in his own bed again. Ironically, ever since they had returned home from tour, Olli had spent night after sleepless night missing Aleksi terribly: his stupid jokes and playful banter that bordered on being flirtatious if Olli allowed himself the benefit of delusion; his quick, subtle smiles that probably meant nothing; his little touches Olli hoped meant something; his smell and his touch and the softness of his hair at the back of his neck, compared to which the blanket Olli was grasping in his fist was like sandpaper. (How he had come to know of the qualities of Aleksi’s hair in such detail, he preferred not to dwell on too much to save himself from the heartache, so let’s just leave it at ‘stressful, emotional week far away from home’ and ‘a little too much to drink’).

Above all, Olli missed Aleksi’s voice. He hadn’t even thought that was possible, until the other morning when Olli had woken up to a voice message Aleksi had left just hours earlier, rambling about a song idea he had gotten in the middle of the night – something he did from time to time – and Olli had spent the next several minutes replaying it over and over again as he had lied in bed procrastinating getting up and and instead closing his eyes to better imagine Aleksi lying there beside him, turned on his side to face Olli, talking to him sleepily like they often did when they shared a room on tour and were just too lazy to join others at breakfast. Much like the hug at the airport, Olli wished those moments would have lasted way longer than they did, often ending abruptly when either of their phones would go off with Santeri’s name on the screen, a passive-aggressive interruption to the soft, low tone of Aleksi’s early-morning thoughts. (Sometimes, when Olli was lucky enough, he had been blessed with the bliss of feeling the light touch of a fingertip tracing along his collarbone, cut short just as frustratingly by their well-meaning tour manager politely enquiring whether the two of them had plans of dragging themselves downstairs for some toast and coffee, or if they’d rather starve until lunchtime, for which he wasn’t at all sure they’d even have time that day.)

The lovesick idiot that he was, his thumb hovered over the ‘play’ button of Aleksi’s voice message, probably for the millionth time that week. The chest-carving hesitation turned into a heart flip when he noticed Aleksi was online.

Then Aleksi began to type, and Olli held his breath the entire time until a new message appeared in the thread, anticipation holding him by his throat.

You awake?

Olli exhaled and typed his affirmative reply, leaving out the reason why.

He blinked at the screen, waiting for Aleksi to ask him a random question that clearly couldn’t wait until morning, or perhaps talk about something related to another late-night Twitch stream (from what Olli had gathered, Aleksi had been doing a lot of those recently, and with his last remaining braincell Olli had managed to resist the temptation to watch every single one of them, because he knew that if he did, it would only dig his grave of pining and longing deeper, seeing Aleksi smile and giggle about but not being able to do that with him or snuggle up next to him when he was wearing that flannel Olli often used as a blanket in the tour bus). But instead of another text appearing on the screen, Olli’s phone began to vibrate in his hand, and it took him an embarrassingly long while to understand it was because Aleksi was calling him. 

“Hi,” he sighed when he finally collected himself enough to speak. He prayed he’d be able to hear what Aleksi was going to say from the thumping heartbeat echoing in his ears.

“Hi,” a soft voice said. “Sorry, I know it’s late…”

“No, not at all,” Olli hurried to say, “I mean, I wasn’t sleeping. Not even close, actually.” Part of him hoped Aleksi wouldn’t ask about it, but in some foolhardy way the possibility intrigued him. 

Nothing much, he would have likely said anyway, but what would happen if he told Aleksi how it really was? That he squeezed his pillow imagining it was him instead, or wailed into it because something had reminded him of a moment-that-was-probably-not-a-Moment™ they had shared? What would Aleksi say if he knew Olli sometimes touched himself the way Aleksi had touched him That One Night they never talked about? The only obstacle between Olli and that knowledge was a bottomless ocean of cold sweat and cowardice, and Olli had never been a great swimmer.

“So, ummm…,” Olli said when Aleksi’s end stayed silent. “What’s up?”

A short breath of laughter sounded through the phone line.

“Honestly? I don’t know, I… It’s just been a… weird week, I guess.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, like… my head’s just been so full of… everything and… I’ve been so busy and kinda tense and… fuck, this is going to sound crazy,” Aleksi laughed that brief laugh again, although to Olli it didn’t sound particularly cheerful. Tired, more like. Strained, somehow. Not sad, but definitely a little troubled, and Olli intended to find out why.

“I’m all for crazy, you know.” Olli hoped his sorry attempt to lighten Aleksi’s mood would work, and so he smiled in relief when he heard Aleksi chuckle at his comment.

“I know,” Aleksi said softly, in that tone of voice that had Olli melt against his bedsheets. “So yeah, it’s been a rough week, but… in between all that stupid shit, I’ve been thinking a lot about… umm… well, the tour and– and… about you, for some reason,” (the troubled laugh made its return) “and… yeah. That’s sort of helped me a lot recently.”

Olli listened to the words carefully, not fully believing what he was hearing, yet clinging on to them until they were all but swirling around in his otherwise empty head like dry leaves in October wind.

“And tonight I just couldn’t fucking sleep for some reason and nothing I did seemed to help and so I thought I’d call you. And I’m–” If it hadn’t been dead silent otherwise, Olli wouldn’t have heard the shaky breath Aleksi paused to take, “I’m sorry I’m calling you at this hour and bothering you with this all but I guess I just… wanted to hear your voice. To see if that would help.”

“Does it?” Olli asked. Aleksi’s confession had made him clasp his blanket close to his chest, as if that would do anything about his rapidly beating heart.

“Yeah. It does. So maybe just… keep talking?”

Despite his mind living a life of its own, completely unfit to form a single coherent thought, for Aleksi’s sake Olli tried his best to think of something to say, but everything he came up with was something he was not ready to tell him quite yet. 

“Uuummmm…” he said to buy himself some time, but while he waited for his useless brain and mouth to form any actual words, Aleksi spoke again.

“Fuck, I’m– I’m sorry, this is too weird, I shouldn’t have– I’ll let you go back to–”

“I miss you,” Olli blurted before Aleksi would hang up on him. He squeezed his eyes shut when Aleksi went silent, too silent for too long for it to mean any good.

The line stayed open, however, which Olli took as a positive sign, even if the seconds during which all Olli could hear was Aleksi's quiet breathing seemed endless.

“And I you,” Aleksi finally replied. “A little too much, probably, or at least that’s what it feels like,” he chuckled. Olli almost missed the quiet sniff that followed.

He had to steel himself for his next question.

“What do you mean?”

“Just… forget it.” Aleksi said quietly. Contrary to Aleksi’s request, Olli knew he was going to all but ‘forget it’ for the next 3-5 business days; mentally he booked all his evenings as well as most of his mornings and noons for pondering what exactly had been in Aleksi’s mind in that moment or why he had sounded so sombre, almost disappointed. He’d probably never come to any satisfactory conclusion about it though, at least not without a little help from Aleksi himself. 

A ridiculous idea popped into his head, and before he could stop himself, the words flooded out of his mouth.

“Do you wanna come over some time? To hang out? When your schedule’s a little less tight, I mean.” He sucked on his lips and closed his eyes as he waited for Aleksi’s answer, ready to hang up the moment he’d decline the offer on some obvious and logical reason for why Aleksi couldn’t possibly make nor want to take a trip to the north to see him, such as ‘didn’t we just spend over two months on the road together?’ or ‘damn, buddy, I miss you alright but not quite that much, I’ve done enough sitting in public transportation for one year, thank you very much lol’ or ‘what about Rilla?’

“You could take Rilla with you, you know.” Olli hurried to say, just in case, the deranged part of his brain thinking there might be a chance Aleksi might be at least considering it.

“Oh! Well, umm… I actually might have time next week? If– if you’re actually being serious about this.”

Funny you should ask, Aleksi; I’ve actually never been more serious about anything in my entire life than I am about having you here with me so that I can hold you and be held by you and see your face when I wake up in the morning and say goodnight to your annoyingly cute face instead of via text message and maybe, if the stars are in position and the northern wind won’t discourage me too much, I might actually be brave enough to torment you with the knowledge of just how miserable I’ve been since we last saw each other.

“I think it would be cool,” he said, because he had a feeling what he wanted to say would’ve been a tad too much and sudden. “I mean, if you’re up for it, of course. I understand if you can’t make it though, I know you have all those side projects.”

“No, I think it might actually do me some good to get out of the capital area for change.” Then there was a muffled ‘ouch’, followed by a laugh that sounded much brighter than any of the other ones Olli had heard from Aleksi that night. “Sorry, correction, it might do us some good. Rilla just told me she’s most definitely coming too. Rilla, stop nibbling on my toes!”

Olli smiled tiredly at the mental image that was painted in his mind of Aleksi and Rilla cuddling in bed, both minding their own business from what it seemed while still minding each other as well, very much indeed.

“I’ll be sure to set up a bed for her in the guest room.”

“The guest room? Do you not know her at all? If she’s not getting the master bedroom, she’ll ruin all your rugs and most of your shoes. Probably also gossip about you to all the neighbourhood dogs. And she’s brutal.”

Olli held his stomach as he laughed, tears almost forming in the corners of his eyes. In his defence, it was late and he was finally becoming tired, thus too far gone to help himself, let alone feel embarrassed about being in stitches about something Aleksi had said that was only mildly amusing. (It wasn’t the first time that had happened either, and likely not the last time.)

“So yeah, ummm, I can take a look at some flight options for next week and let you know, alright? I’m gonna let you sleep now and… I should get some myself too.”

Olli wanted to tell Aleksi he’d love to stay up chatting until dawn, but the yawn he let out when he opened his mouth to speak implied Aleksi had a point.

“Yeah, let me know. And… thanks for calling, I… you have no idea how much I needed this tonight.”

That was as close to a confession as Olli was able to get as of now.

“Probably not half as much as I did.”

Olli chuckled at Aleksi’s response, mostly to hide his own agony.

If only you knew. If only I knew how to tell you.

It didn’t take long for Olli to doze off after they hung up, and when he woke up to the kids from next door having a snowball fight under his window in the morning, he noticed new messages from Aleksi, sent half an hour after their phone call had ended, complete with screen captions of airplane schedules.

Would these days work for you? I might be free all week actually 😇

Olli cuddled into his pillow while typing his reply, hoping it wouldn’t wake up Aleksi.

yeah I’m free as well. I’ll pick you two up from the airport 🖤

From then on, Olli started counting the days until he’d see Aleksi again.

[sweetnsour-stuff]

A small collection of fanart/shitposts I've made for @voidscarredadjudicator 's fic Humanity's Endling: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44749253/chapters/112589939

(That get progressively lower and lower quality)

[jmflowers]

Sometimes, Maya is incapable of saying no to their daughter.