#yeah yeah I don't believe in evil as a thing it's still a useful shorthand sometimes

[elainemorisi]

definitely a large helping of I dunno, coping, probably. but jesus christ, in some ways the steep slide into blatantly obvious evil, ruinous, cruelty-as-point shit of the past several years is starting to convince me that some version of a milquetoast utopian future is possible, actually, in a way I have never believed before. because actually like, yeah, a fuckton of current problems would diminish significantly if We As A Society prioritized different things, in a pretty top down, structure of bureaucracy and government and systems, independent of personal virtue or revolutionary enlightenment, way

[hedge-rambles]

Terrible isekai guides you might meet

Ok I keep thinking about that post about someone not believing the stupid rules of the fantasy land they're in I reblogged the other day and I'm now trying to think of just terrible options for meeting your guide to this new world when you get isekai'd.

The conspiracy theorist: You've got no background here, so sadly it's not your fault you don't clock that the faun you met after walking through that magic wardrobe is actually a nutjob.

You're quite a way into your quest to defeat the dark lord before you find out he's really a duly elected politician and probably does not, in fact, keep a dungeon full of tortured gnomes beneath his castle.

"Yeah, if you believe the establishment" says the faun, rolling his eyes. With hindsight, you recall the fact he lived alone in a shack in the woods and how perhaps you should have thought more about that.

The helpful AI: You awaken in a futuristic looking facility, your last memory is of sticking a fork in the toaster like your mother always told you not to. There's a console to your right, and the text is in your own language! "Hello, how may I help you today?" the speaker announces in a friendly tone. You tentatively say "where am I?", but are still surprised when the voice answers.

They've clearly improved things a lot since your day, but it's still embarrassing how long, and how many failed solutions to problems it presented, before you finally twig that it's still just an LLM. They've got the voice tone right, and the speech is far more natural, but it's still basically a hallucinating predictive text machine. You begin to doubt everything it's told you.

The confident idiot: Look, it's not their fault they never got a decent education. Just like it's not your fault you don't know enough about this place to know how wrong they are. Maybe the moon here really is a projection on the sky? It's not, and they've clearly misunderstood something they once heard about how the light of the moon is actually reflecting off it, but you weren't to know that. I mean, you just saw a fucking unicorn, all bets were off.

Sadly for you, the helpful young man who found you lying in the middle of the road and nursed you back to health, is kind of an idiot. Helpful, has the best of intentions at heart, but still an idiot. And worse yet, he's just intelligent enough to make logical leaps from all the information he's misunderstood over the years. Everything he taught you is like 40-70% right, or close to right, and you realise it's probably going to take twice as long to unpick which of the things you learnt were true and which bits weren't.

It's five years later, and you're still stuck in that strange world, you're used to it now, this is your home. In the tavern one evening you take a moment to lean over to a trusted companion and utter the stupidest sentence you've ever said: "So, uh, weird question but...do unicorns actually have venomous horns?"

The cultist: Yeah so uh, listen they seemed so nice when they met you! The friendly woman in the shining white armour, who couldn't do enough to help this lost stranger in her land.

Later you learn the visual shorthand here is a bit different to the one you grew up with and you've joined the great war between Good and Evil on the side of Evil. Whoops.

The skull-helmeted warrior-priests of the squid god are the good guys. Actually, it makes a sort of sense when you think about it, that the guys with the lion motif on their breastplates are the bad guys. Lions will eat humans; squid are mostly just delicious. And of course a cultist is friendly to a lost person seemingly with no connections, that's how cults work back in your world too, dummy. Shame they want to "end the world in blood" and all that.

[princeescaluswords]

I see you are a huge fan of fics where Scott McCall dies. Don't worry! More content coming right up! ;)))

As a matter of fact I do enjoy fiction where Scott dies, so thank you very much.

Indeed, my first multi-chaptered Teen Wolf fanfiction, completed all in the way back in 2016 when I was new to both fandom and fanfiction and called Army of Ghosts, has Scott dying in the first chapter. He’s blown up in an ambush and then purposefully dismembered, and the rest of the story is an exploration of how Stiles copes with it. Hint: not well. It’s quite a dark story.

You see, there’s nothing wrong with Dark Fiction, by which I mean fiction which explores activities or events that are rejected as undesirable by modern society, in a way that centers the narratives on the activities or events in and of themselves, and not simply as obstacles for the protagonist to overcome. I believe that not only should these stories exist but they serve a valuable purpose when it comes to understanding the people around us.

My objection has always been to what I call Exploitative Fiction, by which I mean fiction which portrays activities or events that are rejected as undesirable by modern society, in a way that ignores context, consequences and even logic, with the end goal being to present those activities or events as positive experiences for a purpose not directly connected to the activity or event itself.

That’s wordy, isn’t it? Let me give you some examples then to help clarify. I consider it Exploitative Fiction when rape is presented as a step on the path to love, where physical coercion into the sexual act is seen as evidence of passion, but the consequences of employing violence as a shorthand for possessive desire are simply negated because the goal of the story is romantic rapture. I consider it Exploitative Fiction when a slave falls in love with their owner and they develop true feelings for each other, but they still exist within the same slave-owning society, yet the context of that relationship is ignored simply to produce the most intense version of you-and-me-against the world. I consider it Exploitative Fiction when writers create a fanfiction collection called 101 Ways to Kill Scott McCall, in which it is a safe bet that these aren’t explorations of how his death affects others but merely vessels for the unbridled rage of people furious that MTV decided to film a television show with a minority heroic protagonist as the lead.

The reaction to this caution is for individuals to purposefully confuse Dark Fiction and Exploitative Fiction, attempting to shift the argument by obscuring the difference. They employ the motte-and-bailey fallacy, where they point out that Exploitative Fiction is a form of Dark Fiction but choose to defend Dark Fiction, which isn' t the topic. In other words, when someone says “Hey, maybe you should be careful when sharing a story where a traumatized sixteen-year-old with abandonment issues enters into a relationship with a middle-aged millionaire white male serial killer, whose very presence will isolate the teenager from his family and friends, that you don’t present it as a flawless gateway to perfect happiness?” they respond with “You just want everything to be sunshine and rainbows and good triumphing over evil, you Puritan Scold!” and suddenly a person wondering why a story straight out of the discarded scripts of To Catch a Predator is being used as spank-bank material is labeled as Goody Chastity, Implacable Enemy of Joy and Sexy Fun.

“But PEW,” you say, “Isn’t this just your opinion?” And my reply is “Yes, it is my opinion, but it’s not just mine. Let’s talk about Kyle Rayner’s girlfriend.”

For those who don’t know, the term “fridging” came about from an issues of Green Lantern, where a supervillain killed Kyle Rayner’s girlfriend and stuffed her into a refrigerator for him to find. Whatever someone may think of that particular storyline, it started a conversation about female characters being killed as a function of a male character’s development. Having a supervillain brutally murder the loved one of a hero is pretty dark. It’s Dark Fiction. No one said that supervillains can’t murder or can’t murder certain people or that the hero can’t react to those murders. The complaint was that the female character existed solely to be murdered. Her only function in the story was to generate Kyle’s angst, to set up a situation where his character is explored. She was Exploited.

Why is this a big deal? Because it happens a lot, and not just in comic books. In television, in movies, in literature, women are often reduced in narrative function again and again to shortcuts for male character development. Better scholars than me have written about this exhaustively and pointed out how this fictional exploitation feeds into real-world exploitation (and vice-versa). It’s not hard to find a significant amount of public research.

So yeah, in posts like this one, I complain about Exploitative Fiction in the fandom community to which I belong. Because it doesn’t take a literary critic to read these stories and perceive that the goal of the story isn’t to explore the darkness in which Stiles and his killer boyfriend (whether that be Derek or Peter) murder his best friend, it’s the satisfaction of rage that their white favorites weren’t the focus of the show. Again, again, and again in humiliating, degrading detail Scott is murdered or maimed or stripped of power, in one-sided beat downs that follow no discernible internal rules but one: white male characters must win. It’s not about a power struggle or logical consequences, it’s about punishing a character for daring to be the lead, and it’s racist.

You know how I know that? Because I have never found a story where Stiles and Peter hunt down and murder Isaac Lahey for the crime of abandoning the Hale Pack, slandering Peter, or physically attacking Stiles twice. Because I have never found a story where ArchSpark Stiles tortures Jackson or strips him of his lycanthropy because he almost killed the Hales and his father, rejected Derek, and was forced to serve Gerard. Because I have found few stories where Stiles is murdered by Peter because he was plotting against him, and the evidence is that Stiles said mean things about him. It’s nine hundred and ninety times out of a thousand, it's Bad Alpha/Friend Scott, or if it’s not Scott, it’s Sinister Tree Wizard Deaton. And the sample size, my friends, is very large.

So no, I’m not against Dark Fiction. In my fiction, Scott has been killed, maimed, and imprisoned. (I’ve actually been accused of being obsessed with putting Scott in jail.) I’ve explored the consequences of these actions on Scott and the people around him, and it hasn’t always been a happy ending. I look forward to reading stories where he has endured terrible trauma. I’m reading one right now that I’m simply head-over-heels about. I just think that Exploitative Fiction needs to be addressed, head on, especially when it feeds fandom racism.

[neuxue]

Hi, neuxue......If you don't mind me asking, who are your favorite “villains” (or antagonists) in MXTX works? Whether it’s a final boss like Jun Wu or more of a side character like Xue Yang. (Whether you want to do a ranking or just write out in no particular order)...Sorry if you've answered this question before....

If I don't mind??? If I don't mind? Please, my friend, you give me an opportunity to talk about favourite villains and I am yours for as long as you'll listen.

Not going to attempt to order them so we'll just go by story:

CQL

Xue Yang - characters who don't realise what they want, or that they've found a way to have it, until the moment when they destroy it!! Who destroy it because on some level they don't truly believe they can have it at all, and because it's easier to lose something when you can convince yourself you were always going to, and that it was your own choice. The whole time-bomb of Yi City just wrecks me.

I'm also generally here for his brand of competence and mercuriality - the knife-edged playfulness that doesn't quite mask a deeper darkness, the tendency to dance just a little too close to the edge with the particular carefree abandon of one who cannot imagine living beyond youth.

Finally... oh man do I even want to try to articulate this? So, he has several traits that often get used as a shorthand for not just ‘evil’ but ‘inherently evil’. Which... frustrates me. But with Xue Yang... yes, he's cast as a villain and yes he loses everything and yes he dies alone and unmourned... but there's a sense of 'it didn't have to go this way'. If the cart driver had been kinder; if his capability had been put to some use other than ‘weapon’. Or that moment in Yi City where he seems to delight just as much in cheating at a silly game of choosing sticks as he does in tricking Xiao Xingchen into killing people. This idea that there could have been another path. (And also, via Yi City, that he is not... inherently unlovable). His story ends in tragedy, but it’s not framed, at least the way I (choose to) read it, as ‘your story can only end in tragedy, because of the way you are’. It gives the option to read it as ‘you are not inherently monstrous’.

(Which then almost feeds back into the tragedy of the first point, because it’s only there in a kind of meta sense: Xue Yang himself? only ever receives the you are a weapon, you are a monster, that is all you can be side of it. Oh man okay I’ll stop here before I get pulled into a whole essay on this because suddenly I want to).

Jin Guangyao - I love a schemer! I love a pragmatist! I love ruthless competence beneath an inscrutable smile! I love characters who will tolerate nothing less than absolute perfection in themselves because they have learned the hard way that it’s the only possible way to survive. Characters who are not exempt from their own ruthlessness, their own cost-benefit analysis. Characters who have learned from their world that happiness must be sacrificed at the altar of survival, and who will do so with heartbreak but without hesitation when necessary. The only way is forward; to look back is to fail, but the irony is they can still never outrun their pasts.

Also he’s another one where there’s such a sense of it didn’t have to end this way. So many points at which things could have been different, so many alternate versions in which his capability could have been channelled towards a different goal, if the goal carved into his bones didn’t have to be survive, in a world that will try to make that impossible. 

I love villains and antagonists of all stripes and moralities, but in this instance what I love is a character who doesn’t want to be a villain, doesn’t want their hands stained with blood, doesn’t want to hurt those they love... but they do not see a choice. 

Wen Zhuliu - he’s highly competent and wears fingerless gloves; what more do you want from me?

Honestly though, he fascinates me. In part it’s the fact that we just don’t get much interiority to him, and only one exchange of dialogue that really suggests his motives, but we also get these little moments, that collectively build this sense of a kind of... lawful neutral, I suppose? Not even villain-by-necessity so much as villain-by-...debt? loyalty? But he also so clearly has such a strong sense of honour, and I just love trying to reconcile all of those pieces into a cohesive whole. 

The other thing that really gets me about him is his extraordinary power and how it’s regarded - especially when juxtaposed with Wei Wuxian’s. In both cases you have a single individual who holds a terrifying and mostly unique power that threatens or pushes the boundaries of their whole society and world. Wei Wuxian commands ghosts without a sword; Wen Zhuliu can extinguish someone’s power with his hands. But, crucially, the difference between them seems to be... that Wei Wuxian is a wildcard; Wen Zhuliu is leashed. And so I have to wonder once again at the strength of that leash, and at what would happen if Wen Zhuliu, like Wei Wuxian, decided to rebel. And in that whole question lives in this really interesting space of... what is it people truly fear? The power? The wielder? That person’s ability to choose? The uncertainty of what they will choose? The possibility of them realising they can?

***

TGCF

He Xuan - I mean the theme here obviously is competence, and He Xuan has a killer aesthetic to go with it, but mostly it’s just... the way his whole character is an exploration of revenge, and the line between vengeance and justice, and the question inherent in the irony of... throwing away the very thing you wanted vengeance for, in order to exact that vengeance.

(And also the whole cycle-of-revenge in doing unto another what was once done unto you, in the process of exacting that vengeance).

I’m just. Unbelievably here for a good betrayal story, and this one has it all! The intimacy! The self-betrayal! The emptiness and hunger!

And while with Xue Yang I love that moment of realising what he wants, or what he’s losing, only in the moment when he destroys it... with He Xuan what I love is that he goes into this, in so many ways, knowing what he’s doing. This is not spontaneity; this is the ultimate premeditation. He knows what he has, in his guise as a heavenly official. He knows, intimately, the person he is betraying. He has given great thought to the how of that betrayal. 

(Is it worth it, in the end?)

(After all, he’s still here)

Bai Wuxiang - one of the dynamics that will wreck me pretty much every time is what I like to call ‘intimate enemies’. Enemies-to-lovers can fit under that umbrella, but it’s a broader umbrella than just that. The idea of characters who (either one-sided or reciprocally) know each other so deeply, and can wield that knowledge to wound. The awful gentleness and precision of holding a knife to the core of someone’s identity. 

That, plus the identity fuckery in general. The way Bai Wuxiang frames himself as Xie Lian’s mirror, and the way he then reflects and warps and tugs at those pieces of Xie Lian’s self and name and will, trying to shape them in his image, but so gently. The way he talks to Xie Lian! The way he strokes his hair as he stabs him! It’s just so much, okay!

So yeah, a lot of it is that I’m just very into the highkey fucked-up dynamic he has with Xie Lian. But also Bai Wuxiang’s own story hits me in a kind of... if you’ll forgive a Wheel of Time reference: betrayer-of-hope betrayed-by-hope kind of way. That he tried so hard once, only for it to fall to ruin in his hands, and now he watches another try (and fail!) as he once did. And the way he seems to, in trying to mould Xie Lian’s present to his own past, be searching for a kind of... vindication? A confirmation of that inevitability? That of course he failed, that he could never have succeeded, because this is the nature of humanity, and it is not worth saving, and so his attempts weren’t failure. 

But the thing with that is: it’s a lose-lose situation. If he succeeds and Xie Lian fails, yes, it gives him that sense of ‘there was never another way, and no point trying to find one’ but is that really... winning? Is finding vindication in despair truly a success? And yet if he fails and Xie Lian succeeds, then does that not also feel like a sword to the heart: that it wasn’t inevitable, and that means he has to come to terms with his own failure and the heartbreak it wrought?

[etlunainmorte]

🖤 I See My Future Before Me 🖤

***

She managed to acquire it for a very low and reasonable price. After all, who would use an old record now, especially with the booming technological culture that was steadily becoming popular with the younger generation?

She placed the delicate thing on her glass top table and took a good long look at it. Dante would pick her up any minute now, and she must definitely get ready for the mission ahead ( this time, a couple of magic - wielding higher Demons ).

However, for some strange reason, she couldn't shake the urge that she must play at least one song with it.

With that in mind, and her strong belief in intuition ( not to mention Cassandra's constant meddling ), she picked up the vinyl record she bought along with the old instrument and proceeded to the task. And with a little help from an almost useless and age - old manual ( its pages were yellow and crumbling at the edges ) that came with the merchandise, she finally managed to play the song. She took a few steps away from the table and allowed the sweet, old music to soothe and calm her senses.

She closed her eyes, letting the melody sink in,...

... when a vision suddenly flashed through her mind.

She opened her eyes once more, unable to believe her wicked sense of premonition ( or Cassandra's ) and allowed the vision to take over her entire mind.

And in that vision, she saw herself dancing the waltz with someone - a tall man clad completely in black. They were dancing to the same music that she was listening to, in the middle of the summer night, on a beautiful, Grecian balcony, below the starry, evening sky, the full moon shining above them.

It was,... simply perfect,...

But, who was that man?

The vision ended as soon as she opened her eyes.

However, something near the window startled her. She took a good long look at it as it slowly materialized, and right then and there, she saw him - the man she was dancing with in that vision,...

It's him! The man she's been searching for for such a long time.

The man,... with the white hair,...

And he was there, standing a few feet away from her, giving her a confused, and yet longing, look, as if he was also seeing her, himself.

She cautiously went closer to him and observed how his eyes followed her movements. She knew perfectly well that he was just a vision. Of the past or future? That she was not certain.

All she knew was that he was holding out his hands in front of her in a clear gesture that successfully conveyed his desire to dance with her,...

***

XXVIII

***

"Here." Nico mumbled sleepily as she handed V a mug of warm chocolate. He thanked the woman as he took it from her hands. He was about to take a sip when he noticed the woman giving him a suspicious look. She pointed two fingers at him and said, "Eh, so you're really Vergil, huh? Dante's twin brother?”

The man smirked as he finally took a sip of the warm chocolate, its enticing scent calming his tired and restless senses. He pursed his lips as he glanced at the calm and serene evening atmosphere from the balcony of (Y/N)'s unit.

"I was." He answered, his eyes darting from one cheerfully lit house to another. Some of the residents have already made their way back to their homes after the Dreadnought incident, and things were slowly going back to its normal and boring pace.

Nico almost choked on her chocolate when she heard V's answer. She chuckled as she took a good long, and thorough look at Vergil’s form from head to foot. "You,... were?" She chuckled.

V smirked once more as he looked at her. "It's the truth."

"I don't understand. How can you not be Vergil right now? I mean, come on, Sir Changes – A - Lot!"

The man chuckled as he helplessly shook his head. He held out a single hand as little orbs of light radiated from it. The almost translucent orbs, then, spread out from his hand to his arm, then from his torso to his other arm. The orbs reached his entire body as the curious little lights morphed him back to the V that Nico was used to seeing - black leather vest, tooth necklace, a pair of unflattering black sandals, and all.

"This,... is merely an illusion.” V explained. “I could never become whole again. It is,... completely impossible. Even with the powers of the Sisters Of Fate."

"Your hair,..." Nico mused as she pointed at V's snowy white hair. "It's not turning back to black." She, then, pointed at his skin. "And your tattoos are barely even there!"

"This is how I look like before all this,... began. This,... is the real me."

"Wow. And I thought (Y/N) was the only one who can change looks,..."

At the mere sound of her name, V's heart skipped a beat and his breath clearly hitched. The girl was sleeping in her room, unconscious since the whole battle with Pandemonium ended. He promised her sister that he would take care of him, and Galatea left her body as soon as she was done healing her.

But, then, somehow, he knew deep within his tainted heart that she would never be fully healed.

Would she,... ?

His question came out like a soft breeze that was almost missed by the Artisan. She stopped sipping her chocolate and glanced back at V, seeing the man leaning on the railing and clearly looking uncomfortable.

"Sorry?"

V looked at her eyes and repeated his question. "Would she find it in her heart to forgive me? After everything I've done to her?"

"Oh, that." Nico came closer towards the man and patted him a bit forcefully on the shoulder. "Dontcha worry a thing 'bout that! She'll forgive ya and yer pretty, lil' skinny ass. Believe me.”

V chuckled at her crude humor and sighed.

"You don't have,... any idea what I did to her back in that demonic ship,..."

"I know. You killed her. Well, almost."

V's eyes widened as he straightened up and looked at her. "How did you - ?!"

"Found out? Oh, she knew 'bout that. She told me herself."

Oh, it must be Cassandra, V thought as he leaned against the railing once more. "Of course."

"But, hey, she's still alive, right? And you're fine! At least, you didn't turn evil or somethin' and caused the world's destruction."

At those ridiculously accurate words, V bowed his head down low, trying to conceal his face until he could no longer endure the emotions. With trembling shoulders and teary eyes, he threw his head back, his low and evil - sounding laughter ripping out of his throat and scaring the hell out of Nico.

"Hahaha! YOU make me laugh,..."

The woman raised an eyebrow. "O,... kay?"

"You have no idea,... how messed up I've become. I failed her. I failed miserably. I'm only here because, apparently, Galatea still thinks I'm worthy. After,... everything I did to her."

"Hey, we all make mistakes."

V smiled at her. "I will tell you,... the story of my insanity,..."

With wide, doubtful eyes, Nico patiently listened as V recounted to her the events that took place in the Dreadnought, from the moment he stabbed (Y/N) up to the point where Fleminger stabbed him, taking the Sisters away from him and letting Pandemonium kill everyone.

"Wait, wait, wait,..." Nico blabbered as she pushed the frame of her red - rimmed glasses to her nose bridge. "So, you're sayin' that,... everyone,... died?"

"Yes."

"Hooee! Well, I'm sure glad that Galatea brought you back. I wonder how I died back there?"

As Nico went on blabbering about how she could possibly die in that far off alternate universe, V suddenly saw,...

... a spectral - looking hand reaching up at the railing of the balcony just behind her. V was definitely not one to get frightened of ghosts but, the vision did startle him. He focused his gaze into it as the creature climbed up the balcony as effortlessly as it could.

It was (Y/N), and she was, somehow, strangely barefoot. Her pants looked like they were burnt from the knee down, and her movements were as light as possible. She tiptoed her way to the window when she suddenly heard some voices inside.

So, did V.

“ ... they even mentioned some famous and obscure names in the Devil Hunting business who got the invitation. And let me mention this - Dante also received one."

Her eyes widened at whatever she saw inside and she couldn't prevent herself from letting out a yelping sound.

“Someone’s listening!”

She covered her mouth and stepped away from the window.

“Looks like we have an,… unwanted visitor.” Then, he heard it. That voice. It was him. He could remember everything: this was from that time when he first arrived at this place.

So, it was true: someone really was outside that time. And it was none other than her,...

“Best to make it at home - ” He heard himself speak once more.

“Guys, guys! Stop! What did I say about making a mess?!”

“Hey, hey! There’s an intruder right - AHH!” A very loud and obnoxious noise was heard from the inside, like someone, or something, was just thrown to the other side of the room.

“To not make any?”

“Exactly! That’s just the - ah - neighbor’s cat!”

“That,… does not sound like a feline, at least to my ears.”

“Okay, okay, guys! Trust me and put your weapons down. Thank you! Now, as I was saying, we must go to this event and find out what this, Wrath of The Gods, is!”

“We cannot go shorthanded. If we take the riddle in a very literal sense, then,… we would not have enough strength. We would be dealing with the Wrath of The Gods,… after all.”

While listening to the conversation inside, he saw (Y/N) as she tiptoed her way back closer to the window, lovingly gazing at something inside. Her eyes widened, then returned to normal once more. She raised an arm and wiped the tears that started coming out of her eyes with the sleeves of her pale pink hoodie.

She was crying, and yet she looked clearly happy at what she saw. Like she finally found something she has been searching for after so long.

Like, she was deeply longing to see whatever that was,...

And this made V's heart twitch in unbelievable pain.

He,... knew who she was looking at. He knew,...

... who she was longing to meet,...

“That’s where I come in! Nero, how’s the breaker coming along?”

“It’s fine, sure.”

“Oh, yeah? Then, I’ll be making new ones.”

“Isn’t this enough?”

“No! And, you! You seem interested in all this, yes?”

“As a matter of fact, I ‘am."

“Then, go get your own formal wear! I can’t provide you with one. I’m an Artisan, not a freaking, fancy tailor!”

“Wait, like, right now?”

“Duh?! Are you, like, gonna wait till Saturday for that? Go, go, GO!”

She cautiously took a few steps away from the window once more.

“Hey, hey, if you’re looking for some chicks, then you’re in the wrong place! Get moving!”

There were more sounds, and when they finally subsided, the window violently opened and she finally entered the threshold of her own home.

“Are you crazy?! Why would you be hiding there? This is your home, for crying out loud! Are you a thief, or something?!”

“It’s him, Nico.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“It’s him! The man with the violin in my visions!”

“Who?!”

“The one with the markings on his skin!”

“The mysterious man? Are you sure about that?”

“It. Is. HIM!”

"¿Por qué estas descalza?" V heard a distinctively different voice of that of a little girl.

He closed his eyes at the sudden change, and when he opened them once more, he was suddenly transported to a sunny, suburban place. A little girl with dark pigtails was staring at him, her hands on her hips like a wife who was angry at her husband for coming home late and drunk.

He realized she was not directly looking at him, and this made him turn around. And to his surprise, he saw (Y/N). And just like in his vision a while ago, she was barefoot, and her pants looked burnt from the knee down.

(Y/N) opened her mouth to answer but, then, she realized she can't speak the little girl's language. This made the smaller girl smile.

"¡Ven conmigo! Te llevaré a nuestra casa." The girl excitedly said as she practically went through V like he was a ghost and grabbed (Y/N)'s hand.

V followed the two as the little girl led (Y/N) to one of the charming little two - story houses on the left. The little girl opened the door and let (Y/N) in.

"¡Madre!" The girl called. "¡Madre!"

"¿Alicia?"

A woman in her mid - fifties came out from the kitchen, wiping her hands with an orange towel.

"¿Hija?" The mother's eyes widened as she abandoned her towel, practically throwing it to the side as she made her way to the two girls. "¡Que chica tan linda! ¿Es tu amiga?"

The little girl laughed and shook her head, making (Y/N) a bit surprised and culture - shocked. "Ella no habla Español. No te preocupes, yo me encargo." The girl turned to (Y/N) and pointed at herself, then her mother. "My name is Alicia. This is my mother, Maria. I go to English class every Saturday."

"Oh, that's nice." (Y/N) answered as she received a pair of slippers from the little girl. "Thanks."

"She said you're pretty."

A faint rosy tint crept up (Y/N)'s cheeks. She looked at the smiling older woman and nodded. "I, ah, thank you."

Maria nodded, understanding the words she just said.

"What are you doing outside with no shoes?" The little girl asked her as she pulled her towards the living room.

"Umm, you see, ah,..." (Y/N) muttered as she sat down on the maroon sofa. "I was, ahh, looking for someone. A white haired man who plays the violin. I've seen him pass here. Have you, umm, seen him?"

White haired man who plays the violin?

He had been here?!

Alicia turned to his mom. "Ella pregunta si hemos visto a un hombre de cabello blanco por aquí, dice que toca el violin."

Maria frowned and shook her head. “No, lo siento mucho. Pero podemos avisarte si lo llegamos a ver."

"She said no. But, we will tell you when we see him."

(Y/N)'s face showed a clearly disappointed expression. But, despite this, she still sincerely smiled and nodded. "Thank you so much."

Alicia nudged her on the elbow to help her relax. "No hay problema." She answered with a smile. "That means no problem."

"I can't believe how fast you've grown!"

V heard another voice from the hallway. He went there and saw, in shock, the same little girl,...

... except that she was now the same height as (Y/N). Her hair was no longer in pigtails. Instead, she was wearing it down. And her fashion sense seemed to have changed, as well.

"I'm a teenager now!" And clearly, she was better in English. "And it seems that you haven't aged a bit since I last saw you!"

It was true. For some reason, (Y/N) still looked the same.

How many years has passed since she first met Alicia?

"So, have you seen him?"

"Oh, that man? I think mom has!"

"Really?"

"Yeah!" Alicia grabbed her hand and led her to the living room like what she did the first time they met. "Madre, (Y/N) is here!"

The woman, whose dark brown hair has clearly turned gray, looked up from her stitch work and stood, meeting the girls halfway and kissing the both of them on their forehead. V noticed that she now walked with a slight limp.

"It has been a long, long time, Miss (Y/N)!" Maria told her in straight English, grabbing her hands and squeezing them.

"Mom studied English for you." Alicia said with a proud and huge smile.

"That's really cool!"

"Mom, she’s asking whether you've seen the man she was looking for."

To this, Maria's face suddenly fell, a frown now gracing her warm and gentle features. She only shook her head and went back to her stitch work. And without saying another word, she sat down and went on with her work like nothing even happened.

"Oh, don't mind her. She's just like that at times. But, she's not mad at you, don't worry!" Alicia whispered.

(Y/N), who was clearly alarmed at the sudden change in Maria's demeanor, couldn't help but nod as she tried to hide her worry.

"It's okay."

"You haven't given up?"

V heard Alicia's frantic voice on the hallway once more. He immediately went there and saw her,...

... clad completely in black from head to foot. She clearly looked a bit older, and she was not dragging (Y/N) around like how she used to when she was younger.

And (Y/N)?

"You still haven't changed?" Alicia questioned her with raised eyebrows.

"Where's Maria?"

Something in her question triggered something in Alicia. And it unnerved both (Y/N) and V.

"Get out."

"Sorry?"

"I said, GET OUT!" Alicia screamed as she pushed (Y/N) out of the house.

"Alicia, what happened?!"

"GO AWAY!" The girl screamed as she shut the door close. She then ran towards the sofa, grabbed Maria's old stitch work, and cried. The handiwork was clearly half - finished but, some words were visible from it.

"El amor es paciente, el amor es amable. No envi - "

"HEY!"

V snapped back to reality as Nico snapped her fingers in front of his face.

"You alright?"

"Indeed. Yes, I' am." He answered.

Nico breathed a sigh of relief as she clutched at her chest like she was having a heart attack. "I thought I lost you back there. You know, (Y/N)'s visions were short and sweet - "

"She's been to Spain."

"Sorry?"

V looked at her and repeated his words. "It's (Y/N). I saw her. She was in Spain."

"Oh, that! So, you've seen her?" Nico answered as she went back inside, V following close behind her. "You know, she's been to many places, more than what you could imagine. She's searching ten years for you, God!"

"Ten,… years?!"

"Yeah. She comes home often, though. She's learned to channel that power of hers to her feet and legs so she could move fast and jump to high places." Nico explained as she went to one of the drawers and pulled something out from it. "So, she's never really gone for too long. But, I'm gonna tell ya this: that channeling the power to her feet thing often burned her pants."

So, that's why,...

"I don't understand." V went on as he watched Nico flip through the pages of an old album. "She was searching for ten years, but I've only been to such places for three weeks. I was,… travelling. It's what I've been doing before coming here to Red Grave."

"Really? Well, it's a long story. Let's just say that she wanted to meet you because the entity that was possessing her wanted her to fulfill some kind of a mission. Don't ask." She handed the open album to V and pointed at one of the photos. "That's them."

V's eyes widened in awe as he saw the photograph of (Y/N) and Alicia during the Spanish girl's party for her sixteenth birthday.

"Alicia. One of the people she frequently visited and stopped seeing after ten years. Said she’s starting to notice."

"Notice what?" V looked up from the album.

Nico went closer to V and whispered like she was passing on a well - guarded secret to him. "Okay, this sounds weird but, she actually came from the past."

"I know."

"Yeah, yeah! I thought at first she's just plain nuts. But, listen to this: the first thing she did after recovering was search for her family's old farm in Fortuna. V, there hasn't been a farm there since a hundred years ago! It's all concrete now, and streets.

"So, she searched for her parents and any people she could remember from her past. Some of them either died already or have grandchildren of their own. And her parents? She found out that they separated and had families of their own."

"A girl,... out of her time,..." V mused as he flipped through the pages of (Y/N)'s old album, seeing her with unknown faces.

"Exactly! She's, like, super old when you think 'bout it!" Nico went to one of the paintings and looked up at it. "And, not only that, her looks stayed the same for those ten whole years I knew her. Like, she's stuck or somethin’.”

"Galatea's stasis." V breathed.

"Sorry?"

"Nothing."

Nico frowned and raised an eyebrow at him. She went on. "She craves for things from the past. So, she started collecting antiques like this. Other than helping her cope after being plucked from when she came from, these things she have reminded her of all the places she's been. They remind her of you."

The poet looked up from the album and saw Nico picking up her keys on the glass top table. There was an old record there, similar to Fleminger's, that he hasn't taken notice of before.

Was it there the whole time?

Nico saw the confusion in V's eyes as he looked at the antique. "Oh, this? She bought this about a year ago. Thought she's gonna want to listen to old songs when she wakes up. So, I took it out. It's gonna get moldy with disuse."

The woman walked towards the door but, before she went out, she turned back to V. "I'll leave her to ya, V. Don't mess this up again." And then, just like that, she walked out of the door, leaving him alone with (Y/N).

The silence felt deafening, the darkness depressing. V nearly collapsed on the sofa as he carefully placed the album next to the record. He was about to touch it when he heard a loud tapping against the window. He turned around just in time to see Griffon and Shadow entering the unit.

"HOO! We made it." Griffon breathed a sigh of relief as he made his way towards V while carrying something broken in his hands.

"I see you found it." V carefully took the broken violin from Griffon's long fingers. It was (Y/N)'s.

"Yeah, well. Kinda got all bloody searchin’ through Dreadnought's rubble for that."

"Thank you."

"Wait!" Griffon held up two long fingers in front of V and made way for Shadow to get close to the poet.

V smirked, controlling his mirth and amusement as he looked down at the now human Shadow. After the cleansing, she has turned into a pale human girl roughly the size of a middle - schooler. Her long black hair that reached her feet was awfully unkempt, and the clothes that Lady lent her a while ago was too big for her.

She quietly looked up at him with her big red eyes and showed him a pair of stilettos.

It was (Y/N)'s. She wore it when,...

"This girl took it badly when you threw them out during your mad state, if ya can’t remember. She looked for them all over the place and kept them with her." Griffon explained as Shadow gave the shoes back to V. She turned towards her fellow familiar and gave him a strange look. She, then, turned back to V with an angry, yet adorable, look. "Oh, and she's saying that she hates ya for hurting (Y/N). And that she will never forgive ya."

"Oh, I'm,..." V grasped the shoes and looked down at them, thinking of the girl who owned them. "... forgive me."

"Well, you've been a naughty schtick! Ya should've been punished for bad behavior!" The bald Demon made a ruffling gesture that was much akin to his movements when he was still a bird and collapsed on the sofa. "So, happy with yer new powers?" he, then, asked sarcastically.

"No." The poet answered monotonously as he slumped back to the sofa just beside the familiar, the shoes still in his hands.

Griffon rolled his eyes. "Figures,..."

There was a moment of silence between the two, and during this very awkward time, Shadow took a liking to the old record on the table. She poked the thing with her tiny finger and managed to turn it on, its weird mechanism startling her and making her hair stand. She drew back to a corner, giving it a confused and cautious look.

This made Griffon laugh a lot. "I wonder how that would sound, though."

"It,... wouldn't hurt if we try." The poet quietly said as he placed the shoes on the table and took the vinyl record just beside the instrument. Apparently, the record was simply titled as "Nat King Cole". He began with the long process of playing it and when the music finally came out of it, he turned it off immediately.

"Hey, why did ya turn it off?!" Griffon complained. He was about to rant more when he noticed the look on V's face. His eyes were wide and his mouth was hanging open. "V? You okay?"

"I' am. I just,..." The man held out a hesitant finger as he turned on the instrument once more.

"Unforgettable, that's what you are. Unforgettable, though near or far. Like a song of love that clings to me,... "

"It's this song." He confessed with a shaky voice. With cold and trembling hands, he covered his mouth, already feeling the tears as they started falling down his blurry eyes. "It's,... from that evening."

Griffon saw the changes in V's demeanor and actually felt sorry for him. He tapped V's shoulder in a sincere effort to calm him down.

"Unforgettable in every way, and forevermore, that's how you'll stay,..."

He stood up and went towards the window, all the painful memories of everything that happened within a single week coming back to him. He found the love of his life, danced with her, and lost her because of his foolishness.

All because he let himself be manipulated.

Still unable to control his emotions, and the tears that came along with them, he turned back, and saw,...

... the girl, herself, standing a few feet away from him looking confused like he was.

But, this time, unlike any other vision he had of her, she looked like she was actually seeing him for real. She went closer towards him as he observed all of her movements. He held out his arms, hoping for his desire to dance with her once more to come across.

And, as if by some form of an unknown miracle, she let his hands take hers as they began the basic steps of the waltz,...

... just like the first time they did it on the Grecian balcony that evening.

"That's why darling, it's incredible, that someone so unforgettable, thinks that I am unforgettable too."

Griffon and Shadow silently watched as V danced with something they couldn't see. The male familiar shook his head and grinned as he saw the poet actually enjoying the dance.

"No, never before has someone been more,..."

He tried to hold her closer despite the fear that she would vanish and rested his head on the crook of her neck.

"Unforgettable,… in every way,..."

He quietly and gently sang along, the lyrics tearing a new wound to his already beaten heart. How he wanted to hold her so much, how he wanted to actually feel her smooth skin against his,...

... how he longed to dance with her once more.

But, she’s hurt. Because of him.

And instead of her actually dancing with him, she’s lying on that bed inside her room with no guarantee of when she’d wake up.

"And forevermore,… that's how you'll stay,..." He felt a warm sensation on his body and realized that her vision was rubbing him on the back, her arms around him, wanting him to cease crying. He looked at her eyes and cupped her cheeks. "That's why darling,… it's incredible,… that someone,… so unforgettable,… thinks that I ‘am,… unforgettable too,..." His heart ached with each word he sang, feeling like they were directed towards him and making him feel guilty than ever before.

He wanted so much to tell her that: that she’s unforgettable,…

… that he was grateful to her for everything that she did for him for the past ten years,…

… that he was grateful that she found him and made his life a little less miserable.

But, of course, he had to make a very stupid mistake of hurting her.

And he regret everything he did and did not do to her.

As the song came to an end, his face inched closer to hers. He wanted so much to feel her lips against his,...

... when something startled her.

She reluctantly pulled away from him as she looked at the door behind her. She opened her mouth and said something he couldn't hear, and turned to face him once more. She gave him a warm, and yet weak, smile as she held up a single hand to caress his face. After that, she stepped away from him and went to the door, looking at him one last time before finally going through it.

"Please,..." V begged her, holding out a helpless and powerless hand to reach her. "Don't,... leave me,..."

***

🖤 Special thanks to @beyond-the-mirror for the Spanish dialogue and translations. Also for introducing Alicia and Maria. 🖤

🖤 @la-vita , @micaelagua , @vergils-daughter , @lessy86 , @diabeticsugarush , @ehrzeth , @ceruleanworld , @simmy-ships , @boundbysoul , @heaven-on-a-landslide , and @krazy06 . 🖤

***

She heard a knock on the door and heard Dante calling her name. She turned away from the lonely man, not really wanting to go.

"I'm coming!" She called back, then looked at her partner's anguished face once more. Despite the pain that she suddenly felt in her heart upon seeing a vision of him, she still made an effort to caress his face and smiled, reassuring him, hoping that he would understand. She left him standing there in the middle of the room.

And as she glanced back at him, the sight that greeted her hurt her even more. In fact, the pain was unbearable.

His tears were streaming down his face, his expression simply too painful to withstand.

He doesn't want her to go.

He,... doesn't want her to leave,...

***

[etlunainmorte]

🖤 I See My Future Before Me 🖤

***

She managed to acquire it for a very low and reasonable price. After all, who would use an old record now, especially with the booming technological culture that was steadily becoming popular with the younger generation?

She placed the delicate thing on her glass top table and took a good long look at it. Dante would pick her up any minute now, and she must definitely get ready for the mission ahead ( this time, a couple of magic - wielding higher Demons ).

However, for some strange reason, she couldn't shake the urge that she must play at least one song with it.

With that in mind, and her strong belief in intuition ( not to mention Cassandra's constant meddling ), she picked up the vinyl record she bought along with the old instrument and proceeded to the task. And with a little help from an almost useless and age - old manual ( its pages were yellow and crumbling at the edges ) that came with the merchandise, she finally managed to play the song. She took a few steps away from the table and allowed the sweet, old music to soothe and calm her senses.

She closed her eyes, letting the melody sink in,...

... when a vision suddenly flashed through her mind.

She opened her eyes once more, unable to believe her wicked sense of premonition ( or Cassandra's ) and allowed the vision to take over her entire mind.

And in that vision, she saw herself dancing the waltz with someone - a tall man clad completely in black. They were dancing to the same music that she was listening to, in the middle of the summer night, on a beautiful, Grecian balcony, below the starry, evening sky, the full moon shining above them.

It was,... simply perfect,...

But, who was that man?

The vision ended as soon as she opened her eyes.

However, something near the window startled her. She took a good long look at it as it slowly materialized, and right then and there, she saw him - the man she was dancing with in that vision,...

It's him! The man she's been searching for for such a long time.

The man,... with the white hair,...

And he was there, standing a few feet away from her, giving her a confused, and yet longing, look, as if he was also seeing her, himself.

She cautiously went closer to him and observed how his eyes followed her movements. She knew perfectly well that he was just a vision. Of the past or future? That she was not certain.

All she knew was that he was holding out his hands in front of her in a clear gesture that successfully conveyed his desire to dance with her,...

***

XXVIII

***

"Here." Nico mumbled sleepily as she handed V a mug of warm chocolate. He thanked the woman as he took it from her hands. He was about to take a sip when he noticed the woman giving him a suspicious look. She pointed two fingers at him and said, "Eh, so you're really Vergil, huh? Dante's twin brother?”

The man smirked as he finally took a sip of the warm chocolate, its enticing scent calming his tired and restless senses. He pursed his lips as he glanced at the calm and serene evening atmosphere from the balcony of (Y/N)'s unit.

"I was." He answered, his eyes darting from one cheerfully lit house to another. Some of the residents have already made their way back to their homes after the Dreadnought incident, and things were slowly going back to its normal and boring pace.

Nico almost choked on her chocolate when she heard V's answer. She chuckled as she took a good long, and thorough look at Vergil’s form from head to foot. "You,... were?" She chuckled.

V smirked once more as he looked at her. "It's the truth."

"I don't understand. How can you not be Vergil right now? I mean, come on, Sir Changes – A - Lot!"

The man chuckled as he helplessly shook his head. He held out a single hand as little orbs of light radiated from it. The almost translucent orbs, then, spread out from his hand to his arm, then from his torso to his other arm. The orbs reached his entire body as the curious little lights morphed him back to the V that Nico was used to seeing - black leather vest, tooth necklace, a pair of unflattering black sandals, and all.

"This,... is merely an illusion.” V explained. “I could never become whole again. It is,... completely impossible. Even with the powers of the Sisters Of Fate."

"Your hair,..." Nico mused as she pointed at V's snowy white hair. "It's not turning back to black." She, then, pointed at his skin. "And your tattoos are barely even there!"

"This is how I look like before all this,... began. This,... is the real me."

"Wow. And I thought (Y/N) was the only one who can change looks,..."

At the mere sound of her name, V's heart skipped a beat and his breath clearly hitched. The girl was sleeping in her room, unconscious since the whole battle with Pandemonium ended. He promised her sister that he would take care of him, and Galatea left her body as soon as she was done healing her.

But, then, somehow, he knew deep within his tainted heart that she would never be fully healed.

Would she,... ?

His question came out like a soft breeze that was almost missed by the Artisan. She stopped sipping her chocolate and glanced back at V, seeing the man leaning on the railing and clearly looking uncomfortable.

"Sorry?"

V looked at her eyes and repeated his question. "Would she find it in her heart to forgive me? After everything I've done to her?"

"Oh, that." Nico came closer towards the man and patted him a bit forcefully on the shoulder. "Dontcha worry a thing 'bout that! She'll forgive ya and yer pretty, lil' skinny ass. Believe me.”

V chuckled at her crude humor and sighed.

"You don't have,... any idea what I did to her back in that demonic ship,..."

"I know. You killed her. Well, almost."

V's eyes widened as he straightened up and looked at her. "How did you - ?!"

"Found out? Oh, she knew 'bout that. She told me herself."

Oh, it must be Cassandra, V thought as he leaned against the railing once more. "Of course."

"But, hey, she's still alive, right? And you're fine! At least, you didn't turn evil or somethin' and caused the world's destruction."

At those ridiculously accurate words, V bowed his head down low, trying to conceal his face until he could no longer endure the emotions. With trembling shoulders and teary eyes, he threw his head back, his low and evil - sounding laughter ripping out of his throat and scaring the hell out of Nico.

"Hahaha! YOU make me laugh,..."

The woman raised an eyebrow. "O,... kay?"

"You have no idea,... how messed up I've become. I failed her. I failed miserably. I'm only here because, apparently, Galatea still thinks I'm worthy. After,... everything I did to her."

"Hey, we all make mistakes." V smiled at her. "I will tell you,... the story of my insanity,..."

With wide, doubtful eyes, Nico patiently listened as V recounted to her the events that took place in the Dreadnought, from the moment he stabbed (Y/N) up to the point where Fleminger stabbed him, taking the Sisters away from him and letting Pandemonium kill everyone.

"Wait, wait, wait,..." Nico blabbered as she pushed the frame of her red - rimmed glasses to her nose bridge. "So, you're sayin' that,... everyone,... died?"

"Yes."

"Hooee! Well, I'm sure glad that Galatea brought you back. I wonder how I died back there?"

As Nico went on blabbering about how she could possibly die in that far off alternate universe, V suddenly saw,...

... a spectral - looking hand reaching up at the railing of the balcony just behind her. V was definitely not one to get frightened of ghosts but, the vision did startle him. He focused his gaze into it as the creature climbed up the balcony as effortlessly as it could.

It was (Y/N), and she was, somehow, strangely barefoot. Her pants looked like they were burnt from the knee down, and her movements were as light as possible. She tiptoed her way to the window when she suddenly heard some voices inside.

So, did V.

“ ... they even mentioned some famous and obscure names in the Devil Hunting business who got the invitation. And let me mention this - Dante also received one."

Her eyes widened at whatever she saw inside and she couldn't prevent herself from letting out a yelping sound.

“Someone’s listening!”

She covered her mouth and stepped away from the window.

“Looks like we have an,… unwanted visitor.” Then, he heard it. That voice. It was him. He could remember everything: this was from that time when he first arrived at this place.

So, it was true: someone really was outside that time. And it was none other than her,...

“Best to make it at home - ” He heard himself speak once more.

“Guys, guys! Stop! What did I say about making a mess?!”

“Hey, hey! There’s an intruder right - AHH!” A very loud and obnoxious noise was heard from the inside, like someone, or something, was just thrown to the other side of the room.

“To not make any?”

“Exactly! That’s just the - ah - neighbor’s cat!”

“That,… does not sound like a feline, at least to my ears.”

“Okay, okay, guys! Trust me and put your weapons down. Thank you! Now, as I was saying, we must go to this event and find out what this, Wrath of The Gods, is!”

“We cannot go shorthanded. If we take the riddle in a very literal sense, then,… we would not have enough strength. We would be dealing with the Wrath of The Gods,… after all.”

While listening to the conversation inside, he saw (Y/N) as she tiptoed her way back closer to the window, lovingly gazing at something inside. Her eyes widened, then returned to normal once more. She raised an arm and wiped the tears that started coming out of her eyes with the sleeves of her pale pink hoodie.

She was crying, and yet,...

... she looked clearly happy at what she saw. Like she finally found something she has been searching for after so long.

Like, she was deeply longing to see whatever that was,...

And this made V's heart twitch in unbelievable pain.

He,... knew who she was looking at. He knew,...

... who she was longing to meet,...

“That’s where I come in! Nero, how’s the breaker coming along?”

“It’s fine, sure.”

“Oh, yeah? Then, I’ll be making new ones.”

“Isn’t this enough?”

“No! And, you! You seem interested in all this, yes?”

“As a matter of fact, I ‘am."

“Then, go get your own formal wear! I can’t provide you with one. I’m an Artisan, not a freaking, fancy tailor!”

“Wait, like, right now?”

“Duh?! Are you, like, gonna wait till Saturday for that? Go, go, GO!”

She cautiously took a few steps away from the window once more.

“Hey, hey, if you’re looking for some chicks, then you’re in the wrong place! Get moving!”

There were more sounds, and when they finally subsided, the window violently opened and she finally entered the threshold of her own home.

“Are you crazy?! Why would you be hiding there? This is your home, for crying out loud! Are you a thief, or something?!”

“It’s him, Nico.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“It’s him! The man with the violin in my visions!”

“Who?!”

“The one with the markings on his skin!”

“The mysterious man? Are you sure about that?”

“It. Is. HIM!”

"¿Por qué estas descalza?" V heard a distinctively different voice of that of a little girl.

He closed his eyes at the sudden change, and when he opened them once more, he was suddenly transported to a sunny, suburban place. A little girl with dark pigtails was staring at him, her hands on her hips like a wife who was angry at her husband for coming home late and drunk.

He realized she was not directly looking at him, and this made him turn around. And to his surprise, he saw (Y/N). And just like in his vision a while ago, she was barefoot, and her pants looked burnt from the knee down.

(Y/N) opened her mouth to answer but, then, she realized she can't speak the little girl's language. This made the smaller girl smile.

"¡Ven conmigo! Te llevaré a nuestra casa." The girl excitedly said as she practically went through V like he was a ghost and grabbed (Y/N)'s hand.

V followed the two as the little girl led (Y/N) to one of the charming little two - story houses on the left. The little girl opened the door and let (Y/N) in.

"¡Madre!" The girl called. "¡Madre!"

"¿Alicia?"

A woman in her mid - fifties came out from the kitchen, wiping her hands with an orange towel.

"¿Hija?" The mother's eyes widened as she abandoned her towel, practically throwing it to the side as she made her way to the two girls. "¡Que chica tan linda! ¿Es tu amiga?"

The little girl laughed and shook her head, making (Y/N) a bit surprised and culture - shocked. "Ella no habla Español. No te preocupes, yo me encargo." The girl turned to (Y/N) and pointed at herself, then her mother. "My name is Alicia. This is my mother, Maria. I go to English class every Saturday."

"Oh, that's nice." (Y/N) answered as she received a pair of slippers from the little girl. "Thanks."

"She said you're pretty."

A faint rosy tint crept up (Y/N)'s cheeks. She looked at the smiling older woman and nodded. "I, ah, thank you."

Maria nodded, understanding the words she just said.

"What are you doing outside with no shoes?" The little girl asked her as she pulled her towards the living room.

"Umm, you see, ah,..." (Y/N) muttered as she sat down on the maroon sofa. "I was, ahh, looking for someone. A white haired man who plays the violin. I've seen him pass here. Have you, umm, seen him?"

White haired man who plays the violin?

He had been here?!

Alicia turned to his mom. "Ella pregunta si hemos visto a un hombre de cabello blanco por aquí, dice que toca el violin."

Maria frowned and shook her head. “No, lo siento mucho. Pero podemos avisarte si lo llegamos a ver."

"She said no. But, we will tell you when we see him."

(Y/N)'s face showed a clearly disappointed expression. But, despite this, she still sincerely smiled and nodded. "Thank you so much."

Alicia nudged her on the elbow to help her relax. "No hay problema." She answered with a smile. "That means no problem."

"I can't believe how fast you've grown!"

V heard another voice from the hallway. He went there and saw, in shock, the same little girl,...

... except that she was now the same height as (Y/N). Her hair was no longer in pigtails. Instead, she was wearing it down. And her fashion sense seemed to have changed, as well.

"I'm a teenager now!" And clearly, she was better in English. "And it seems that you haven't aged a bit since I last saw you!"

It was true. For some reason, (Y/N) still looked the same.

How many years has passed since she first met Alicia?

"So, have you seen him?"

"Oh, that man? I think mom has!"

"Really?"

"Yeah!" Alicia grabbed her hand and led her to the living room like what she did the first time they met. "Madre, (Y/N) is here!"

The woman, whose dark brown hair has clearly turned gray, looked up from her stitch work and stood, meeting the girls halfway and kissing the both of them on their forehead. V noticed that she now walked with a slight limp.

"It has been a long, long time, Miss (Y/N)!" Maria told her in straight English, grabbing her hands and squeezing them.

"Mom studied English for you." Alicia said with a proud and huge smile.

"That's really cool!"

"Mom, she’s asking whether you've seen the man she was looking for."

To this, Maria's face suddenly fell, a frown now gracing her warm and gentle features. She only shook her head and went back to her stitch work. And without saying another word, she sat down and went on with her work like nothing even happened.

"Oh, don't mind her. She's just like that at times. But, she's not mad at you, don't worry!" Alicia whispered.

(Y/N), who was clearly alarmed at the sudden change in Maria's demeanor, couldn't help but nod as she tried to hide her worry.

"It's okay."

"You haven't given up?"

V heard Alicia's frantic voice on the hallway once more. He immediately went there and saw her,...

... clad completely in black from head to foot. She clearly looked a bit older, and she was not dragging (Y/N) around like how she used to when she was younger.

And (Y/N)?

"You still haven't changed?" Alicia questioned her with raised eyebrows.

"Where's Maria?"

Something in her question triggered something in Alicia. And it unnerved both (Y/N) and V.

"Get out."

"Sorry?"

"I said, GET OUT!" Alicia screamed as she pushed (Y/N) out of the house.

"Alicia, what happened?!"

"GO AWAY!" The girl screamed as she shut the door close. She then ran towards the sofa, grabbed Maria's old stitch work, and cried. The handiwork was clearly half - finished but, some words were visible from it.

"El amor es paciente, el amor es amable. No envi - "

"HEY!"

V snapped back to reality as Nico snapped her fingers in front of his face.

"You alright?"

"Indeed. Yes, I' am." He answered.

Nico breathed a sigh of relief as she clutched at her chest like she was having a heart attack. "I thought I lost you back there. You know, (Y/N)'s visions were short and sweet - "

"She's been to Spain."

"Sorry?"

V looked at her and repeated his words. "It's (Y/N). I saw her. She was in Spain."

"Oh, that! So, you've seen her?" Nico answered as she went back inside, V following close behind her. "You know, she's been to many places, more than what you could imagine. She's searching ten years for you, God!"

"Ten,… years?!"

"Yeah. She comes home often, though. She's learned to channel that power of hers to her feet and legs so she could move fast and jump to high places." Nico explained as she went to one of the drawers and pulled something out from it. "So, she's never really gone for too long. But, I'm gonna tell ya this: that channeling the power to her feet thing often burned her pants."

So, that's why,...

"I don't understand." V went on as he watched Nico flip through the pages of an old album. "She was searching for ten years, but I've only been to such places for three weeks. I was,… travelling. It's what I've been doing before coming here to Red Grave."

"Really? Well, it's a long story. Let's just say that she wanted to meet you because the entity that was possessing her wanted her to fulfill some kind of a mission. Don't ask." She handed the open album to V and pointed at one of the photos. "That's them."

V's eyes widened in awe as he saw the photograph of (Y/N) and Alicia during the Spanish girl's party for her sixteenth birthday.

"Alicia. One of the people she frequently visited and stopped seeing after ten years. Said she’s starting to notice."

"Notice what?" V looked up from the album.

Nico went closer to V and whispered like she was passing on a well - guarded secret to him. "Okay, this sounds weird but, she actually came from the past."

"I know."

"Yeah, yeah! I thought at first she's just plain nuts. But, listen to this: the first thing she did after recovering was search for her family's old farm in Fortuna. V, there hasn't been a farm there since a hundred years ago! It's all concrete now, and streets.

"So, she searched for her parents and any people she could remember from her past. Some of them either died already or have grandchildren of their own. And her parents? She found out that they separated and had families of their own."

"A girl,... out of her time,..." V mused as he flipped through the pages of (Y/N)'s old album, seeing her with unknown faces.

"Exactly! She's, like, super old when you think 'bout it!" Nico went to one of the paintings and looked up at it. "And, not only that, her looks stayed the same for those ten whole years I knew her. Like, she's stuck or somethin’.”

"Galatea's stasis." V breathed.

"Sorry?"

"Nothing"

Nico frowned and raised an eyebrow at him. She went on. "She craves for things from the past. So, she started collecting antiques like this. Other than helping her cope after being plucked from when she came from, these things she have reminded her of all the places she's been. They remind her of you."

The poet looked up from the album and saw Nico picking up her keys on the glass top table. There was an old record there, similar to Fleminger's, that he hasn't taken notice of before.

Was it there the whole time?

Nico saw the confusion in V's eyes as he looked at the antique. "Oh, this? She bought this about a year ago. Thought she's gonna want to listen to old songs when she wakes up. So, I took it out. It's gonna get moldy with disuse."

The woman walked towards the door but, before she went out, she turned back to V. "I'll leave her to ya, V. Don't mess this up again." And then, just like that, she walked out of the door, leaving him alone with (Y/N).

The silence felt deafening, the darkness depressing. V nearly collapsed on the sofa as he carefully placed the album next to the record. He was about to touch it when he heard a loud tapping against the window. He turned around just in time to see Griffon and Shadow entering the unit.

"HOO! We made it." Griffon breathed a sigh of relief as he made his way towards V while carrying something broken in his hands.

"I see you found it." V carefully took the broken violin from Griffon's long fingers. It was (Y/N)'s.

"Yeah, well. Kinda got all bloody searchin’ through Dreadnought's rubble for that."

"Thank you."

"Wait!" Griffon held up two long fingers in front of V and made way for Shadow to get close to the poet.

V smirked, controlling his mirth and amusement as he looked down at the now human Shadow. After the cleansing, she has turned into a pale human girl roughly the size of a middle - schooler. Her long black hair that reached her feet was awfully unkempt, and the clothes that Lady lent her a while ago was too big for her.

She quietly looked up at him with her big red eyes and showed him a pair of stilettos.

It was (Y/N)'s. She wore it when,...

"This girl took it badly when you threw them out during your mad state, if ya can’t remember. She looked for them all over the place and kept them with her." Griffon explained as Shadow gave the shoes back to V. She turned towards her fellow familiar and gave him a strange look. She, then, turned back to V with an angry, yet adorable, look. "Oh, and she's saying that she hates ya for hurting (Y/N). And that she will never forgive ya."

"Oh, I'm,..." V grasped the shoes and looked down at them, thinking of the girl who owned them. "... forgive me."

"Well, you've been a naughty schtick! Ya should've been punished for bad behavior!" The bald Demon made a ruffling gesture that was much akin to his movements when he was still a bird and collapsed on the sofa. "So, happy with yer new powers?" he, then, asked sarcastically.

"No." The poet answered monotonously as he slumped back to the sofa just beside the familiar, the shoes still in his hands.

Griffon rolled his eyes. "Figures,..."

There was a moment of silence between the two, and during this very awkward time, Shadow took a liking to the old record on the table. She poked the thing with her tiny finger and managed to turn it on, its weird mechanism startling her and making her hair stand. She drew back to a corner, giving it a confused and cautious look.

This made Griffon laugh a lot. "I wonder how that would sound, though."

"It,... wouldn't hurt if we try." The poet quietly said as he placed the shoes on the table and took the vinyl record just beside the instrument. Apparently, the record was simply titled as "Nat King Cole". He began with the long process of playing it and when the music finally came out of it, he turned it off immediately.

"Hey, why did ya turn it off?!" Griffon complained. He was about to rant more when he noticed the look on V's face. His eyes were wide and his mouth was hanging open. "V? You okay?"

"I' am. I just,..." The man held out a hesitant finger as he turned on the instrument once more.

"Unforgettable, that's what you are.

Unforgettable, though near or far.

Like a song of love that clings to me,... "

"It's this song." He confessed with a shaky voice. With cold and trembling hands, he covered his mouth, already feeling the tears as they started falling down his blurry eyes. "It's,... from that evening."

Griffon saw the changes in V's demeanor and actually felt sorry for him. He tapped V's shoulder in a sincere effort to calm him down.

"Unforgettable in every way,

And forevermore,

That's how you'll stay,..."

He stood up and went towards the window, all the painful memories of everything that happened within a single week coming back to him. He found the love of his life, danced with her, and lost her because of his foolishness.

All because he let himself be manipulated.

Still unable to control his emotions, and the tears that came along with them, he turned back, and saw,...

... the girl, herself, standing a few feet away from him looking confused like he was.

But, this time, unlike any other vision he had of her, she looked like she was actually seeing him for real. She went closer towards him as he observed all of her movements. He held out his arms, hoping for his desire to dance with her once more to come across.

And, as if by some form of an unknown miracle, she let his hands take hers as they began the basic steps of the waltz,...

... just like the first time they did it on the Grecian balcony that evening.

"That's why darling, it's incredible,

That someone so unforgettable,

Thinks that I am unforgettable too."

Griffon and Shadow silently watched as V danced with something they couldn't see. The male familiar shook his head and grinned as he saw the poet actually enjoying the dance.

"No, never before has someone been more,..."

He tried to hold her closer despite the fear that she would vanish and rested his head on the crook of her neck.

"Unforgettable,… in every way,..."

He quietly and gently sang along, the lyrics tearing a new wound to his already beaten heart. How he wanted to hold her so much, how he wanted to actually feel her smooth skin against his,...

... how he longed to dance with her once more.

But, she’s hurt. Because of him.

And instead of her actually dancing with him, she’s lying on that bed inside her room with no guarantee of when she’d wake up.

"And forevermore,… that's how you'll stay,..." He felt a warm sensation on his body and realized that her vision was rubbing him on the back, her arms around him, wanting him to cease crying. He looked at her eyes and cupped her cheeks. "That's why darling,… it's incredible,… that someone,… so unforgettable,… thinks that I ‘am,… unforgettable too,..." His heart ached with each word he sang, feeling like they were directed towards him and making him feel guilty than ever before.

He wanted so much to tell her that: that she’s unforgettable,…

… that he was grateful to her for everything that she did for him for the past ten years,…

… that he was grateful that she found him and made his life a little less miserable.

But, of course, he had to make a very stupid mistake of hurting her.

And he regret everything he did and did not do to her.

As the song came to an end, his face inched closer to hers. He wanted so much to feel her lips against his,...

... when something startled her.

She reluctantly pulled away from him as she looked at the door behind her. She opened her mouth and said something he couldn't hear, and turned to face him once more. She gave him a warm, and yet weak, smile as she held up a single hand to caress his face. After that, she stepped away from him and went to the door, looking at him one last time before finally going through it.

"Please,..." V begged her, holding out a helpless and powerless hand to reach her. "Don't,... leave me,..."

***

🖤 Special thanks to @beyond-the-mirror for the Spanish dialogue and translations. And for also introducing us to Alicia and Maria. 🖤

🖤 @la-vita , @micaelagua , @ceruleanworld , @lessy86 , @ehrzeth , @diabeticsugarush , @simmy-ships , @boundbysoul , @heaven-on-a-landslide , and @krazy06 . 🖤