#REALLY SUCKS NOT TO HAVE GRIFFONS IT TURNS OUT

[anneapocalypse]

"Why didn't the Orlesian Wardens try harder to get into Ferelden?" Senior Warden Riordan did not sneak across the border alone, try to negotiate opening the border at what he thought was a good-faith parley only to be imprisoned and tortured, still manage to bust himself out as soon as he saw an opportunity, make contact with the remaining Fereldan Wardens, fight with them in the final battle despite being unable to get the rest of the Wardens in, and die giving them a fighting chance to kill the Archdemon for us to say that the Wardens all gave up on Ferelden.

#warden riordan #...i am just now realizing that rhymes #anyway had to give a shoutout for my boy #he grounded urthemiel! he tore the dragon's wing #he is the reason the dragon is on the roof able to be killed by people who cannot fly #REALLY SUCKS NOT TO HAVE GRIFFONS IT TURNS OUT #they'd have been very likely fucked without riordan #alistair didn't even know how to do a joining so they couldnt have conscripted loghain without him either even if they wanted to #dragon age stuff #gwaren exports

[thoughtswordsandnonsense]

Throne Scene Pt 2

If you haven’t read/ finished Iron Flame, do not proceed. 18 + content minors DO NOT INTERACT.

Concept: There are about 30 minutes to kill before Violet leaves to go fight the Venin and she knows she needs to feel Xaden because this could be the last time she does. (This is before they go to the hill and she finds out about the second signet) 

Side note: The Throne scene really does live rent free in my head. Sorry if this sucks this is my first time writing smut.

Violet’s POV: 

Everything has descended into chaos, scribes, riders, teachers and griffon riders alike are running around preparing to leave and fight for the place most of us had fled from.

Marching the stairs I go on my hunt, I need him to know I love him, I need to feel safe for one more moment before I potentially never see him again. 

Marching into the war room I see Xaden standing rigid, analyzing the map as he and Brennan talk in hushed tones. “Bonding over how much you both dislike that I’m leaving to fight for Basgiath?” Brennan turns and shakes his head, striding across the room and getting in my face. “You shouldn’t be going.” I roll my eyes as I cross my arms over my chest. “You’re not my keeper Brennan. Now, if all you’re going to try and do is try and talk me out of going save your breath and get out. I need to speak to Xaden.” Brennan glares at me but turns on his heel “I hope you make it out of this alive Violet.” He tosses over his shoulder as he walks out, slamming the door behind him.

“We need to be leaving soon,” Xaden says, finally turning to look at me. His onyx and gold-flecked eyes access me up and down as he sits half on the arm of the throne, deflating from his previously stressed stance. Crossing the room I wedge myself in between his thick warm thighs and grab his face, kissing him like my life depended on it. “I need you. Please.” I send to him and he groans into the kiss, one hand going up my back and into my hair, as he tilts his head to deepen our kiss. My hands reach up, one going to push off his jacket while the other cups his stubbled jaw, his usually clean-shaved face has taken a shadow as of the past few days. 

“We don’t have enough time for everything I want to do to you.” His rough voice moans in my mind as I moan into him, his jacket falling into the seat of the throne. He stands abruptly, disconnecting our kiss as he stares down at me intensely, one of his large warm hands going to cup my face as I look up at him. “Let me have this, save the rest for when we get back.” I plead with him. “You’ll be the -” “Don’t finish that sentence Xaden Riorson, now can we continue?” I ask as he leans down to kiss me more tenderly, lips grazing mine as I rake my fingers through his black hair. 

“I’ll never say no to you Violence.” His hands snake around to rest on my ass as I jump up, he holds me with ease as I wind my arms around his neck. Moving to kiss down his jaw and down his neck, he groans as his hands grip my ass more tightly as he moves to sit on the throne properly with me in his lap. I grind against his clothed cock as I move my lips away from his neck to look at him. His onyx pupils look even darker than usual as he tilts his head back and growls deeply. “Violet please.” He begs and I feel my face and chest blush, Xaden begs for no one. “I’ll beg for you every day for the rest of my life if it makes you happy. “ His voice sounds breathy in my head. His hands move from my ass to the underneath of my jacket, pushing at the shoulders to get it down, lurching forward, his lips connect to my neck as white-hot pleasure shoots through my body as he sucks hard enough to leave a mark, teeth grazing as he nips at me. His lips slide lower as my jacket slips down my arm, kissing from my neck to my shoulder, to the exposed skin of my inner arm as he takes my jacket off my wrists, drops it to the ground and pulls back. His tawny brown skin flushed as he smirked at me. “If I could leave my mark on you all the time I would.” Xaden’s voice drops into a husky tone as I smirk back at him. “What’s stopping you from doing just that, because I’m not saying no to that offer.” 

His arms wrap around my waist and flip us around as he works my pants and underwear off, his broad body towering over me. In a few swift seconds, he’s got them exposed and the chill of the air hits my bare lower half. Flinging them carelessly across the room without breaking eye contact he grabs hold of my ankle and kisses it, leaving feather-light kisses up to my thighs and close to my exposed cunt. My head tilts back as his breath fans across me, my breath hitching as my hands move to grab the arms of the chair. “I need you this time. Not your tongue, as delightful as it may be. Please.” I beg. 

“Since you asked me so nicely.” He pulls back as my legs rest against the throne and I reach forward to unzip his pants and work them over his hips and down his toned legs. He pushes them the rest of the way off and steps out, hands grabbing my hips and lifting me again as I wrap them around his waist. He sits with me hovering over the tip, his cock hard and dripping precum as he latches back onto my neck teasing my cunt by sliding his cock from my entrance to my clit and back, I fist the hair at the nape of his neck moaning. Pleasure all-consuming and he’s not even inside me yet. “Fuck, I’ve needed you. I’ll always need you, Violet.” He shifts and finally gives in as the tip of his thick rigid cock pushes into me and I move to sink down onto it, Xaden’s grip on my waist is tight enough to bruise, though I don’t really care. “So good for me, good girl. God, you’re so wet” He praises as I feel him finally sheathed all the way inside me, he makes me feel so fucking full. I bounce on his cock, somehow making it go deeper with every movement and his hips thrust to meet me halfway. I press my lips back to his, our gasps and skin slapping filling the room. “I’ve needed you.” He rolls his hips in a way that has my back arching, cold shadows skate across my skin as Xaden bounces me up and down his cock. The shadows split two ways and I feel one skating across my nipples, tugging on them as the other goes to my clit, cold pressure hits me and feels like rubbing and I shiver as Xaden pulls back from me. Watching as I writhe against him, one hand moving from my hip to play with one of my nipples, the shadow on that side relenting. The sensation of rubbing against my clit gets even stronger as I shoot pleading eyes at Xadens lust blown ones. “Please, Please, Xaden I need you. Please.” I’m close to completely unravelling as he thrusts into me even harder, his chest heaving. “Yes Violence, come undone for me.” I throw my head back as I shutter around him, white-hot bliss over taking my whole body as he continuously thrusts into me. Using only one hand on my hip to bounce me up and down while the other moves away from my breast, the cold shadow working on my other nipple ceases. “I’m yours, all yours in this life and if Malek grants me another then that one as well. There will only ever be you Violet. Whatever is left of my life, it’s yours.” ‘I love you, in this life and the next.” Even mentally my voice sounds strained with need. His thrusts get sloppier as he pulls me back into him, his scent surrounding me as his tongue grazes my lower lip and I open my mouth to let him in as he gently traces his tongue against mine. The pressure on my clit intensifies as I feel his cock twitch inside me, the feeling of my releasing barreling towards me again, faster and harder than the last as the coil in my abdomen starts to come undone. He shudders as we come undone together, disconnecting our lips as we lean our sweaty foreheads together, panting. Silence fills the room and for a heartbeat, there’s only him and I. Complete, together and safe. 

“If you two are done we have a war to get to,” Ridoc shouts through the door as we startle apart, falling back, Xadens arms shoot out and grab my torso, pulling me back to his chest. “We’ll be out in a moment, jackass,” Xaden shouts back and Ridoc laughs. “Just be glad Rhiannon talked sense into Brennan from storming in there and trying to kill you when he clued into why there was suddenly a lightning storm.” I flush in embarrassment as I move to get up and off, some of Xaden’s cum dripping out and onto his lap, as I hop off. “Sorry!” I shout back and Ridoc laughs as we hear his steps go away from the door. Retrieving my clothes I hear Xaden shuffle and zip up his pants as I work on getting mine back on. Turning, I come face to face with his leather-clad chest as he holds out my jacket. I turn as he helps me get my arms into it and face him again as his hands move to zip it up. He places a tender kiss on my forehead before he steps back. Going back to the tense and rigid look he had when I had first come in, his hand reaching for mine and I lace our fingers together. “We’ll get through this,” I say and he nods, some black hair falling into his eyes. “We’ll get through this.” He says back as he leads the way out of the room with me by his side.   

#fourth wing imagine #fourth wing smut #fourth wing #fanfic #violet sorrengail #xaden riorson #fourth wing fanfic #iron flame #booktok #rebecca yarros #the empyrean #violet and xaden #smut #smut writing #smut fic #xaden x violet smut #iron flame spoilers #iron flame smut #writing #my writing #fic writing #writeblr

[sinful-morningstar]

Spartober day 11 Roots (VNero)

Author's Note: this is a bit shorter than my usual writing but it's stil a heavily hinted VxNero and V being yknow who ...so theres a bit of guilt and unsure feelings with the shared glances and looks no downright flirting its just heavily suggested rather than shown. other than that Enjoy today's prompt! Promts by whatsanapocalae1 ( I use a combination of SparTober and Devil MayTober Prompts) 11: Roots (VNero) Griffon flew around the beast distracting it while Nero raised a brow, he heard a familiar voice say “ I curse my stars in bitter grief and woe…” Nero tilted his head watching as V showed himself spinning his can around in a carefree stance as he read from his book of poetry. V continued his voice raspy and smooth like velvet almost sensual as he recited “That made my love so high and me, so low” he finished as his eyes met with Nero’s he had a fondness for the young man he didn't exactly know why he felt this way, but he was drawn to him. With a swift movement V held up his cane focussing his direction to the beast as he summoned his Familiar, Shadow and set it upon him as the feline let out a battle cry attracting it making it bleed out in gushes of crimson splatter. The beast fell to its death, SHadow fell to his paws grounding himself on the gravel below sliding back to his master. V watched with pride as the Beast disintegrated away with the wind. Nero watched as he moved closer to V right beside him , he spoke gently “Thought i was gonna have to pick you outta..his tummy teeth..” he gave a soft chuckle. His eyes scanning over V happy there wasn't a scratch to be seen on his body, his perfectly sculpted almost porcelain skin still intact.

V smiled warmly at Nero as he gave a small amused hum “ Pardon my Delay… I was catching up on some reading..” he said, his voice soft as silk, while he held his poetry in hand and looked at Nero proving his point. “Yeah.. looks like a real page turner…” Nero nodded gently watching the Qliphoth roots disintegrate. He looked back at V watching as the wind and dust blew his hair effortlessly making him look like a mysterious gothic beauty. He was captivating, leaving Nero in awe of him. He blushed and stammered as Emerald eyes met with his own. “So uh..” he stammered feeling a bit awkward as he continued “ do you really think Dante’s still in there?” he asked, trying to clear the air. “If Urizen defeated him, then i expect he's no more than Qliphoth pollen by now..” V said as he looked away from Nero flicking away the dust from the roots as he watched it fly away. “A What?” Nero asked, tilting his head. V smirked gently, finding the gesture endearing as he responded simply “Qliphoth…it’s a tree that grows in the Underworld…It thrives on humans blood and those whose blood it sucks…let's say they don't turn out too well” he gestured to the petrified shells of what was once humans cowering in fear during their last moments. “Well in any case we need to find out” Nero said determinedly as he walked past V and made his way to the Qliphoth. He stopped however as V prevented him from going any further using his cane to bring him closer. “Wait..” V said pulling Nero running him so that they were facing each other;The pair now chest to chest. “First we need to exterminate some Qliphoth roots” He said softly watching Nero’s reaction it seemed the young man was blushing darkly at V. V found it endearing as a faint dust of pink settled on his own cheeks before smirking gently at Nero. Griffon flew back to V as he landed on his master’s arm and Shadow nuzzled into V’s leg affectionately before looking back at Nero. “V…” Nero asked gently causing V to look back at him, he asked “What the hell are you?” he said, biting his lip gently, clearly attracted to the man before him, he couldn't help but wonder who or what he was and why he agreed to help him. He leaned in closer to him. V blinked gently blushing as he moved a bit closer himself, the temptation not once fading as he looked back at Nero with a fond expression. He too wanted to know more of this man as they were mere inches away from each other. He was about to answer Nero’s question when they heard the faint sound of Nico’s van approaching in the distance. The pair pulled apart and watched as Nico stopped the van in a shaky jittery manner making  more dust fly in the air around them coming to a complete halt with a loud clatter.

“I know I’m late, shut it..” Nico said softly shaking her head she looked at the pair and tilted her head. “Hey, you must be V” she said, pointing to him gently. V gave a polite nod in return. The pair now sat in the Van making Plans on their next move , they sat in the front seat looking out on the city of redgrave now in ruins from the Qliphoth’s Monstrously unquenchable thirst. “I think we should split into two groups..” V said softly trying to make sense of what had  almost happened between him and Nero, they were so close ..so painfully close before that van came in. There was an attraction there, an almost magnetic pull that brought them both together, but what..what was it?..Then it hit him, it hit him like a ton of bricks; his roots to Nero…he was the human part of Vergil, a man separated from Devil…and that devil was Vergil Sparda…Sparda…Dante..Sparda.. He sighed watching Nero closely, his mind racing as he tried to ignore the gnawing guilt within him. Nero spoke, putting V’s thoughts to a halt “And cover more ground. Good Idea..” he said as he patted V’s back and walked over to Nico who was eager to show him her latest creation.

V sighed as he got up from his seat and gave a slight smirk to Nero “I’ll take my leave now..” he said, swatting away some of Nico’s smoke as he headed for the door watching as Nero put on his jacket.

“And if i don't see you along the way…” he paused gently, looking at Nero from head to toe checking him out as he enjoyed what he saw of the young man’s physique. He bit his lip and turned away while opening the door he finished “I’ll see you at the bottom of the Qliphoth~” he said with a purr as he left the van.

“Sure..” Nero said as he watched V leaving as the door to the van shut. He still couldn't shake the feeling that something was there between them, an attraction sure but he felt something else, something familiar... but he chose to ignore it, he needed to focus, even while V clouded his judgement. He couldn't get him out of his head…

#spardacest #spartober 2023 #vnero #v x nero #nero x v #vergil x nero #nero x vergil

[springvaletales]

((Session 22 is wrapped!))

Half the party has Covid which sucks but at least we’re playing remotely so we don’t need to worry about spreading germs.

“Man, we really should have invested in Bagelby’s PC becoming a necromancer again.”

The griffon’s name is SnowWing, but half the party wants to nickname her ‘Twerk’ bc she shakes her tail feathers when pleased.

Bagelby keeps offering the animals hallucinogenic slugs from the Feywilds and getting them high bc they don’t know any better.

Ena: “We’re the Disaster Squad, and we’re going to be your friends now!”

Bagelby: “It is not a choice.”

The entire forest around the party’s destination is petrified - from flora to fauna to the very earth - due to a curse laid upon the lake the city rests in the middle of.

The party stopped at a small village on the lake shore to dig up some rumors and information on the area, but Asahi failed her perception roll, and is too infatuated with the stump of the world tree looming on the horizon to pay attention.

She wants to make it out of glass now.

“You have found your new short term destiny.”

The village is mostly populated by sentient stone constructs and a few very tired and depressed organics.

New NPC: Breccia the stone construct. Her voice is a very bad Korg impression bc I’m hype about the Love and Thunder trailer.

Bagelby: “We’re here to save a boy from a well. But he may not be a boy anymore. And there may not be a well.”

Breccia: “What is a well but a deep hole with water in it? A lake’s a deep hole with water in it. Does that make a lake a well?

“Do griffons have a concept of gender?”

My NPCs keep turning southern and while I do not my party finds it absolutely hilarious.

Breccia has been dubbed a ‘Midwestern Mom’ and the party keeps saying they will die for her. Careful what you wish for.

Breccia sent the party down to the docks to negotiate with Mr. Arrow - another stone construct and the captain of one of the larger ferries - for passage across the lake into the city.

The stone constructs can work in and around the lake without issue, as you can’t petrify something that’s already stone, right?

“Some of you may have to pay your own way. Asahi’s allowance has been temporarily paused, and Vashael’s tab does not exist here.”

New NPC: Mr. Captain Arrow, a stone construct with the face of a statue as a face who is absolutely a Treasure Planet reference that my party didn’t pick up on until I began describing his outfit.

Though he charged 50g for the griffon (and corpse) and 20g per person for his ferry, Captain Arrow did not charge the party to board their horses, as they are his favorite animal.

The party conspired to secretly tip him anyway to cover the horses’ fare anyway.

Captain Arrow advised the party not to touch the water from the lake or any spray, but told them that complimentary health potions would be available should an accident happen.

During the ferry ride, Ena stayed plastered to the inner walls, as she’s terrified of water. Asahi stayed with her, drawing people to pass the time. Bagelby is down in the cargo hold with SnowWing and the horses, and August is babysitting Bagelby.

Thiori convinced one of the stone constructs to lean overboard and get him a sample of the lake water so that he could try and synthesis a petrification cure. The construct thought he was a little nuts, but lost the persuasion roll-off, and leaned overboard to fill a vial.

A single drop of water got onto his bare finger, and it immediately petrified. Thiori tried eating one of his Cookies of Healing, and while it helped, it did not completely cure the spot, and he had to supplement his cooking with a complementary healing potion.

The ferry attendant serving the potions is more ‘Jessica Rabbit’ than ‘Midwestern Mom’, and while Thiori as a character was very confused and flustered by her, the players found it hilarious.

Ena’s player kept distracting me by sending me links to dog-shaped squish mallows and I absolutely bought the Cerberus one mid-session.

The ship passed through the Roots of the city - basically the slums, where crime is rampant and people can’t afford to move in or out of the city proper.

The crew passed out the rest of the complimentary health potions, and the attendant flirted with August.

Asahi immediately wandered off to follow a siren song that only she could hear, which we had talked about previously in private messages for story reasons, and got herself kidnapped by the local cult members.

The rest of the party - unaware that Asahi had vanished - made their way through the harbor crowds to approach the guards at the elevator chains, and turn in the sad news that they found one of the city guards dead several miles out from the lakeshore.

Bagelby, having picked up the Orcish word for lighthouse somewhere along the way, became infatuated with the light, and kept trying to demand one of the guards get him a tour of the place by just shouting “lighthouse” in different questioning and desperate tones. 

The party finally noticed Asahi was missing, and Ena refused to move without her wife.

The guard were waiting for some sort of news on this NPC (Dragoon), and were quick to grant the party, the griffon, and the party horses passage up to the level of the city where the guard HQ were.

BUT since Ena wouldn’t move, the players split the party three ways when Thiori volunteered to stay with Ena to search for Asahi, while August and Bagelby escorted SnowWing and her rider’s corpse up to the guard’s HQ two levels up.

Meanwhile, Asahi is in prison at the very top of the tree with Michael.

Asahi can’t remember what color Michael’s eyes are, so she has no idea she’s found the guy they’re all looking for.

They made awkward small talk while hanging from the prison ceiling in sticky spider web cocoons.

Bagelby stole an enchanted magnet right out of a guard’s hand while surrounded by witnesses, and then immediately tried to brag to August about it while still surrounded by guards.

New Team Names:

Disaster Squad

The Property Damage Brothers

Justice Team Lite

Michael almost cried to hear that Vashael was in the city, and that his friends were safe and alright.

“Players are - at least player-wise - a DM’s natural enemy.”

On the long, LONG elevator ride up to the residential district, Bagelby and August had a very weird and very deep conversation about how intensely Bagelby needed to see the lighthouse light - touch the lighthouse light, BE the lighthouse light - and made all the guards in the car with them very uncomfortable.

Ena and Thiori tracked down Asahi’s last known whereabouts by tracking an enchanted acorn that Ena had given Asahi waaaaaaay back in session 1.

This led them to the warehouse Asahi had been ambushed in, where they found a straw mannequin and an enchanted conch shell.

Thiori took the conch shell and Ena incinerated the mannequin out of rage bc all that was left of her wife was the acorn.

“I will have to change your alliance if you burn down the warehouse because it WILL spread.”

“What’s a polite way to say I locked the exit behind the boss’ death?”

The party caught back up with each other at the elevator dock of the residential district, and were met by Commander Drokk of the Blackstone City Guard, as well as 2-3 contingents of guard members, all there to see for themselves if the rumor about Dragoon’s body returning was true.

Commander Drokk took custody of Dragoon’s body, as well as the note about the prison that August had found on his person.

The party also met Marrow-Eater - Commander Drokk’s griffon steed and SnowWing’s sire.

The commander didn’t hear August’s attempt to tell him about Thiori’s magic conch, so Thiori showed it to another guard, instead.

This guard - Amalie Liftrune - took the conch, and told the party to meet her at room 35 of the Tailwind Inn without being followed before running off.

The party went, of course, and found Amalie and three other guards waiting for them, with exposition about a corrupt mayor and heavy suspicions that Commander Drokk was a Sunfell Cult puppet.

They also heavily suspect that Asahi had been kidnapped by the mysterious trafficking ring funneling magic users and magic people in the city to the locked-off prison level.

Amalie has gone from the background love interest of a corpse to a miniature resistance fighter

The party + Amalie’s group came up with a plan: Amalie and friends will distract the commander at Dragoon’s funeral, which he is required to attend, as Dragoon’s commanding officer, and the party will sneak into the prison via enchanted elevator magnets to break out Asahi and possibly find Michael.

Redfeather City 2: Electric Boogaloo

Thiori: “Bagelby, your sticky fingers are the gift that keeps on taking.”

The spider prowled too close to their cocoons, looking for something to eat, and Asahi started wiggling to draw its attention and keep it away from Michael.

Michael - also a self-sacrificing dumbass - started wiggling to draw the spider’s attention and keep it away from Asahi.

They started arguing, during which time, Asahi confessed to someone in the party *cough*Ena*cough* punching Michael’s mother, which he did not appreciate.

The party was teleported into the (empty) holding cells, and followed the sounds of arguing out to the prison proper…..where they found a gargantuan spider monster looking back and forth between cocoons with Asahi and Michael’s voices as eagerly as if it were watching a telenova.

We had to wrap the session right at the start of combat, but everyone wanted to continue this week, so we’re coming back tomorrow for more!

#OOC #Quarantine D&D #((he's here!!! the boy is here!!!))

[conarcoin]

MLP episodes that try to talk about serious real-life topics, which ones succeed, and which ones fail

Note - I haven’t watched season nine.

The Good

Griffon the Brush-Off: I don’t like a lot of bully-centric episodes in cartoons. This one has a good message. If people are being shitty to your friends, tell them to fuck off.

Bridle Gossip: Not perfect, but definitely the best of the series’ attempts at making an episode about racism. Zecora becomes a recurring character, which is nice. Love her.

Lesson Zero: Cartoonish but actually pretty good representation of OCD with Twilight part one. Episode ends with Celestia listening to Twilight’s problems and making accommodations for her which is great.

It’s About Time: Cartoonish but actually pretty good representation of OCD with Twilight part two.

It Ain’t Easy Being Breezies: This episode was the episode that turned Fluttershy into a near-perfect character. Super good message about how sometimes the best thing you can do for someone may not be the easiest or nicest.

Maud Pie: Pinkie’s autistic-coded sister visits Ponyville and Pinkie excitedly introduces her to her friends, who have a bit of trouble becoming friends with her because they don’t have anything in common with her. Episode ends with them realizing what they have in common with Maud is their love for Pinkie and ultimately accept Maud the way she is.

Testing, Testing, 1, 2, 3: Rainbow Dash struggles with studying and her friends try to help her succeed in her own way. Pretty good representation of ADHD.

Tanks for the Memories: Pretty good episode that can be used to teach kids about dealing with loss, although Tank is fine, just hibernating.

All Bottled Up: Don’t like Starlight, but this is a perfectly fine episode about how bottling up your emotions is unhealthy.

The Maud Couple: This is basically the same lesson as Maud Pie except Pinkie does an ableism this time instead. Good lesson for the same reason but I have no idea why they would choose Pinkie for this. Or tell this lesson a second time.

Surf and/or Turf: Wonderful episode that can be seen as a metaphor for many topics, and I’ve seen it interpreted brilliantly in various ways including being about children with divorced parents, children of mixed heritage, and genderfluidity. Just a good episode that can be applied brilliantly to a number of important topics, and I like seeing that it’s so well-beloved by a number of people for very different reasons.

Molt Down: It’s not for me, but I can see this episode being really helpful for kids going through puberty.

The Bad

Over a Barrel: Oh boy, a native american themed episode. It sure would suck if the native stand-ins were portrayed as aggressive and unwilling to compromise and the lesson was “we should all get along guys 🙂”. Buffalo are also never mentioned again lmao.

The Cutie Map: I literally don’t fucking understand what the metaphor is here and half the fandom thinks this episode is about communism for some insane reason so obviously they didn’t get their point across clearly enough.

Do Princesses Dream of Magic Sheep?: Had a lot written but it made me mad so instead I’m just going to say: Why the fuck would you put a magical self-harm allegory in your cartoon for elementary school children, have it “solved” by the end of the episode, and then never again discuss it?

Newbie Dash: How the fuck are you gonna do bullying right in S1 and then write this garbage? Fuck off.

The Times They Are a Changeling: WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU WRITE A RACISM EPISODE WITH YOUR POC STAND-IN BEING A SPECIES WHO’S ONLY OTHER APPEARANCE WAS THEM LITERALLY TRYING TO TAKE OVER EQUESTRIA???? ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MINDS?

Parental Glideance / The Parent Map: PLEASE for the love of GOD stop writing episodes where a grown adult is portrayed as being in the wrong for being mad at their parents being fucking weird. Jesus fucking christ?

A Rockhoof and a Hard Place: Holy fucking shit they did a fucking magical suicide allegory for the love of god please help me. What the actual fucking hell? Oh my fucking god you guys cannot keep doing this shit

#trav post 🐾

[rodeoxqueen]

Hey Rodeo! I wanna ask a very specific prompt/headcanon(?). So I have a condition where I experience body (head) twitches nonstop due to anti-depressants I've been taking for 2 years, and it's been giving me extreme discomfort for months to a point of bringing back my depression. It makes it hard for me to sleep, and I was wondering if you would want to write something on how the boys would react to someone who has these symptoms? Feel free to ignore if this makes you uncomfortable though!

Oh darling darling darling,

That must bother you something awful. I’m so sorry that this discomfort has followed you for such a long time. I’d give you a hug if I could. I hope this work can bring you some fellow feeling. (I did my best not to get into specifics as I do not know too much about your symptoms.) 

If you need someone to talk to, I’m here. The C in Cowboy stands for Consolation and Conversation. 

Cowboy Kisses,

Rodeo 

Dante 

He tries his best to listen to what makes you feel better with these symptoms. He’s felt pain and discomfort from the hands of others, but never from his own body’s reaction to something. However, he’s incredibly understanding. 

As soon as you express discomfort, he’s right there asking what can he do. 

Dante’s a big cuddler, he’ll try to move around you in bed to make sure you’re comfortable. You need extra pillows? He’s bought ten. You like extra heat? Dante will devil trigger and warm you up. Anything to alleviate anything negative you’re feeling. 

If you have any aches and pains, his gun-toting hands are great for massaging out any knots caused from the twitches. 

He’ll bring you breakfast in bed and anything you want when you feel like you’re not up for doing yourself when it gets really bad. 

Dante will do whatever he can to make sure you’re comfortable, emotionally and physically. When you’re really emotionally down, he’s right there to bring you some peace in this difficult time. 

“I kinda suck at taking care of myself, but I’ll make sure you’re covered babe.” He says endearingly as he kisses your head. 

Vergil 

Silence speaks in actions. As soon as Vergil notes your discomfort and twitches, he’s already trying to figure out how to make sure you’re still as well as possible. 

If you are showing that you are not comfortable, he’s already there. 

“What can I do?”

In your shared bed, Vergil tries his best to see what position and factors make you feel the most comfortable even with your twitches and makes it law for it to stay that way. 

Stands next to you, making sure he can be there for you at any time. 

When you begin to feel depressed again, Vergil is there to comfort you. His steady and firm arms are unaffected by your twitches as he holds you to his heartbeat. 

“You are very dear to me. I will do anything for you.” He whispers to you when you can finally sleep. You pretend you didn’t hear him. He knows you did. 

Vergil is a silent lover but his heart speaks through the blood that it pumps through his form, laying down everything to bring peace to his lover. 

V

In my personal headcanon, V is easy to tire and he can collapse if he’s been overexerted. He’s no pushover but he’s no Vergil either. 

So when he sees you with this discomfort, he understands it. 

You take turns massaging each other’s sore forms. His hands do their best to smooth out any knots your muscle twitches can cause. 

If you can’t sleep at night, neither is V. He’s going to accompany you through all of your troubling times. Shadow is a great pillow and heater, Griffon is fun to converse with. You’ll be crying with laughter and you almost forget about your previous predicament. 

Once you’ve laughed yourself tired, V reads to you until you can finally close your eyes and rest. 

When you are down, he is right next to you and murmuring words of affirmation. His familiars display comforting behaviors when you feel this way. Shadow refuses to leave you alone, purring and bringing you dead things, and Griffon goes out of his way to make you smile. 

“Look sweetums, you ain’t gotta be alone in this. We are one kick-ass team. We take care of each other, like an Italian mob!” 

“Why that comparison-” You laugh and shake your head in disbelief as this bird cackles at his own joke. 

“He is right. I will care for you until time itself becomes dust.” V kisses your cheek gently. Griffon makes retching noises at this affection. 

#vergil sparda #vergil x reader #devil may cry #dante sparda #devil may cry imagines #dmc imagines #devil may cry 5 #dmc headcanons #v x reader #v headcanons #dmc5 v #dante x reader #dante headcanons #gender neutral reader

[ilovehallas]

Can it not just wait til morning

Relationships: Anders & Justice, Anders & Varric Tethras

Summary:

Anders wanders the streets of Lowtown at night to try and recover from a disturbing nightmare, but the implications of what he dreamed won't let him go and Justice only makes matters worse. When things reach a fever pitch, Anders rushes to the Hanged Man in need for friendship and reprieve.

Tags: Night Terrors, Mental Health Issues, Pre-Dragon Age II - Act 3, Friendship saves the day

Warning for graphic violence

[One of my favorite relationships in Dragon Age 2 is the friendship between Anders and Varric and the change in tone in their banter between Act 2 and Act 3 always gets to me. So I wrote a self-indulgent piece about it that completely went out of hand! There's a lot of other stuff I still wanted to get in there, but I did actually try to keep it brief. This oneshot takes place a short time after the Legacy DLC, between Acts 2 and 3. Please enjoy and let me know your thoughts!]

Read on AO3

Acrid fumes hung heavy in the air of the tunnels. The stench almost had its own physical presence in the way it crept into his air ways and made it hard to draw breath. It had made them all quiet as they tried to avoid stepping on the strange fleshy growths covering parts of the ground and the walls; if Anders looked too long he could swear they were pulsing slightly, feeling every pulse like the beat of his own heart.

Something lived here that Anders didn’t want to see. He tried to keep his eyes fixed to the back of the Warden-Commander, on the familiar griffon heraldry emblazoning her shield. Nothing in the way she moved betrayed whether she could sense it too. Her hand rested easy on the hilt of her sword.

The winding tunnels got progressively more difficult to traverse, forcing them to walk on the growths as the ground became uneven. They would give ever so slightly under Anders’ weight with a sickening, squelching sound. Everything was damp and warm, and Anders hoped that it was sweat that ran along his brow as his breathing grew more and more shallow.

Soon they were in place that Anders recognized well. They were in one of the many tunnels sleeping deep beneath Vigil’s keep, walking past long abandoned dark spawn barricades. How long had it been since they had walked these halls together? Sigrun smiled at him with understanding when she glanced over. When they reached a fork in the road, Anders found a weight finally lifted off his chest. Two massive holes were gaping in the stone, the one on the right side leading down another cramped path, and the other opening up to the inside of a large structure illuminated by an odd blue glow. The walls there were of solid stone adorned with careful geometric designs of lyrium, reaching up so impossibly high that Anders couldn’t even make out a ceiling when he entered. From far away, the soft echo of running water called out to him.  

A flicker of hope lit him up like a spark in dry kindling. This was it! The place they had been looking for! The exhaustion of their grueling eternal march fell off him like opened shackles as he turned and ran back to the others, cursing the way his robes would slow him down. When the canal spat him out, he was back in the deep roads. This time there was not an inch that was not covered in organic matter. The walls were infested with empty egg sacks sprouting from the flesh and Anders’ blood rushed in his ears, whispering to him in clicking and chittering sounds that whatever had nested there was watching him. His body and chest seized up around nothing in anticipation of a threat he couldn’t see, his limbs stiff and useless as the paralyzing poison of panic set in. But no, he could see it. When he looked down, through the grate of the drain under his feet, the thick tentacle of a broodmother emerged from the dark in greeting. When he lifted his head, he looked right into the bulging humanoid face of one of her Children, perched on its grotesque legs.

“We need you, Grey Warden” it spoke with a calm voice. Its claw-like appendages poised, it jumped at him baring its needle teeth and buried them deep into his neck. He didn’t even get to scream, his blood pooling in his mouth as his skin tore. He could feel the way the creature sucked the rest of it right out of his veins. His legs gave in, crushed by the weight of the childer now feasting on him.

“Why can’t I help you?” Justice wailed mournfully from Kristoff’s body, half swallowed by the wall. “I’m stuck here. Anders, what can I do? This isn’t right!”

“I don’t know!“ Anders forced out, his hands pushing fruitlessly at the darkspawn burrowing itself in his body. The fade was silent and sliding away further and further the deeper the teeth went. “Get off of me!”

“I apologize for what I must do to you” the childer said. “But the Father says we need your blood.”

His arms were getting weaker, he still tried to dig his fingers into the creature’s eyes.

“It’ll make us free. Wouldn’t that be just?”

Anders sought Justice’s eye, his own despair reflected back at him. Justice opened his mouth as he struggled, his words coming out as a death rattle. “Why can’t I change this? Why aren’t you letting me?”

“But it’ll hurt us too. It’ll be sad.”

Everything was becoming blurry, colors and sensations mixing together in agony. He couldn’t see, couldn’t smell, couldn’t move, couldn’t feel. There was only the sound of this voice.

“We’ll miss the song. Oh, the beautiful song! How we’ll miss it!”

“I can hear it too, Anders” a woman whispered. The Warden Commander! She had to do something! He had watched her cut down dragons, why wasn’t she doing anything? Why wasn’t she helping? Nothing had ever stopped her before, not archdemons, not self-preservation, not reason.  “It’s heart-wrenching. There is a part of me that understands the darkspawn now. Why they long to hear it so much…”

She began to hum an unfathomable melody that was alien and familiar at once, like the impression of a song he’d forgotten in his childhood. Blindly he tried to reach her so he could make her stop, somehow, whatever it took, but there was nothing, only a great expanse of nothing where her voice became a drop in the ocean of the song.

It thrummed in his chest like it came from inside his bones—

“They call to us! They need us! Please! Grey Warden! Oh, Grey Warden!”

The whole world shaken by the song calling—                

  Anders awoke drenched in sweat with a sob. Eyes unfocused and mentally still entangled in the images of his nightmare, his hands shot up to touch his neck to convince himself that there was no darkspawn there. Relief when he felt that his skin was intact but it was running hot, crawling with something that weren’t there.  He was trembling all over, couldn’t stop gasping, his stomach was rolling, there was a flash of blue. Quick, quick where—

Scrambling to get up, Anders managed to take a few steps before he had to lean against the wall for support and retched once, twice. The nausea was still there, but it receded just as much as Anders needed it to so that he could reach for a cloth and wipe the saliva and vomit from his mouth.

He looked around frantically, taking a moment to recognize he was in his own clinic. It was pitch dark in the room save for a little lantern and it slowly dawned on him that he must’ve fallen asleep in the evening, only to wake in the middle of the night from a nightmare. And how lucky that he did wake.

A nightmare… Anders always kept a bowl or two of clean water around when treating patients. Knowing this place better than the back of his hand, he found one of them even in the relative darkness and splashed his face with the water. For good measure he rubbed his hands over his face, hoping that if he convinced himself enough that he was awake, the sick sense of dread looming over him would disappear. The scratch of his stubble was oddly grounding, but his hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

It had been so visceral. Even now he felt little aftershocks of the “song”. And if there were not the usual noise of a night in Darktown, he was certain that he would be able to hear a faint melody from deep underground.

Maker’s breath, he had to get out of here.

As Anders headed for one of the exits to Lowtown he passed the faces of people he’d seen too many times. There were children that were growing up before his eyes in the dirt. He hastened his pace.

To wander the maze of Lowtown alone at night as a mage was among the most stupid things one could do in Kirkwall. Anders could not find it in himself to care, feeling himself embraced by the night’s chill when he reached the surface. It soothed his burning skin much like ointment did to a wound. A sigh came over his lips as he tipped his head back to gaze upon the stars. See? he thought triumphantly to himself. No ceiling, no stone. Only sky. Just a regular night in Kirkwall, whatever that meant these days.

He drifted in and out of alleyways he’d never seen in the years he’d lived here to stay out of the templars’ sight, along streets he’d last walked before he’d met Hawke. There was no one place he really wanted to be in right now, he was simply grateful for the quiet in his skull that the movement and the cold afforded him. Hadn’t really had much of that lately, or ever, since he’d let Justice in. He looked down from a ledge of a dead end to the docks, his gaze sweeping across to where the few lights of the Gallows gleamed. It was a bit strange, if he thought about it. Justice made it hard to remember dreams usually. Somehow Anders had assumed that if he were to experience a nightmare again, it would involve a templar. It would have been kinder.

The wind tugged at Anders as he stared transfixed at the circle, strands of hair falling into his eyes. The longer he looked, the louder his heart thumped in his chest, the muscle squeezing like a clenched fist as images flashed before his eyes. He tried to push them away, but Justice would not relent. When Bethany’s face entered his mind, Anders pressed the heels of his hands against his closed eyes.

“I was just going for a walk” he muttered, bracing himself against Justice’s reproach. “You know, I thought it was you who said that there’s beauty in this world and now you won’t even let me appreciate the moonshine. That’s more than just a little unfair.”

He raised his head again to the one moon shining bright tonight, hands trembling once more. Something in him stirred at the sight so that even Anders had to smile a little. The serenity of night. The gratitude of a mage holding up pieces of their broken phylactery. The relief when the fever of a patient finally broke against the odds. Finally storming the baroness’ estate. The amulet Hawke had given him that he kept under his shirt, just out of sight but he always knew it was there. Darkspawn blood gleaming on the Warden Commander’s blade. A cat purring on his lap. The granite fortifications of the keep. A ring, a ring made of lyrium, she’d given him a ring. The people of this plane couldn’t hear it, but he could. Like the fade woven into sound, a beautiful song that calls…

Ander’s stomach lurched unexpectedly and he managed to clasp his hand over his mouth before he threw up this time. With great effort and his insides still twisting he swallowed it back down, coughing and gagging as he stumbled away from the ledge.

A spike of irritation. It’s not that kind of song, Anders thought. He retraced his steps to an intersection, taking a path that lead left through a narrow alley as his restlessness returned with a vengeance. And it wasn’t his memory for sure. A rat squeaked in panic when he nearly stepped on it and he cursed as the critter hurried past him. He darted out of the alley, then down a flight of stairs hewn directly into the stone, starting to feel as though something was lurking right behind him.

Why was he angry? The Warden Commander had never wronged them. Because it wasn’t about her or about wrongs. Anders’ coat nearly caught on one of the iron spikes jutting out from the ground. The problem was that he had never wanted to go back there, but Hawke had taken him anyway. And what did he do? What did he hear?

He’s not Vengeance. Or wasn’t he? He’s not a demon. But we’re an abomination. Anders gritted his teeth. Fenris was right on that account at least. He had become an abomination long ago, even if the process wasn’t as sudden as the Chantry would think. Justice wouldn’t like to be reminded, but if it weren’t for Hawke and the others, they would have slain that poor girl they’d meant to protect. And underneath the Vimmark Mountains they’d turned his magic even against his friends. All because—

Anders’ throat was beginning to hurt even though he wasn’t even running. Feverishly he touched his neck to prove to himself once again that there were no teeth. A piece of himself had never left the Deep Roads. And what remained of Justice now? Some memories and a rage that seared him to the bone. Behind him he heard footsteps and the rattle of armor.

What if it was a templar?

Yes, what then?

Somehow the question didn’t come with enough fear. Or any. The truth was that right now Anders almost hoped a templar would come and find him. He didn’t need a staff anymore to defend himself, thanks to Justice magic would pour all too readily through the veil. One dead templar, one dead mage, Anders feared that at this point it didn’t even make a difference anymore. Anders peered over his shoulder. A guardswoman stopped in her tracks when she noticed him, narrowed her eyes, and then continued to walk her round without a second glance.  Likewise Anders picked up his pace again as well.

He wasn’t an abomination. Vengeance was angry now. He was spewing Chantry propaganda at himself because it was difficult to care about this world, beautiful and broken as it was. He couldn’t give up now just because it was difficult. There was too much here that had gone unpunished and not a day would pass without more suffering heaped onto the pile unless this whole damn system crumbled. He wasn’t an abomination.

Anders recognized the area they were in now, the streets broader to accommodate the crowds that usually mingled here. There were people shrouded in darkness in the corners of the market, but none of them looked his way. His nails were digging into his arm and he wondered if maybe he could...

It was a trap; every mage lived in a trap. Push a little to pull your head from the noose and the rope around your neck only tightens, every single time. Vengeance prodded, reminding him of Karl until Anders had to bite the inside of his cheek. Thousands of voices in Thedas were crying out for Justice! Somebody had to answer the call, even if it was a losing battle, even if he was going to try to hold back a tidal wave by himself! He wasn’t an abomination!

He was a liability! Anders took two stairs at a time, his blood boiling despite himself. Chill had turned to cold in the time he’d wasted running around, but he was pretty certain there was a passage back to Darktown nearby. If he was lucky he could get another hour or two of sleep before the daily grind picked back up.

Was he running away again?

He wasn’t running. Wasn’t he? The Warden Commander smiling at him, one of her rare smiles. In war, victory. In peace, vigilance. In death, sacrifice. Anders or Justice remembered her reciting the motto to herself in a light-hearted tune before leaving for Amaranthine to defend it. This was his chance to remedy his cowardice. 

Anders didn’t have the energy left tonight to argue. He knew, yes, he knew there was no turning back and that he had chosen this. There was no escape from the Wardens, no escape from the Calling, from Justice, from himself, from the path he’d chosen, from the path the templars were forcing. But wasn’t he allowed to be angry to know this for a little while? Wasn’t he allowed to mourn that for all the freedom he fought for, Anders had forsaken his own? He hadn’t wanted to be an abomination.

Vengeance didn’t understand anymore. It would be the most beautiful thing of all to see the circles fall, no matter what it took. No more Ser Rylocks, no more Ser Alriks, no more Merediths.

Anders frantically looked around—

It’d be beautiful but it wasn’t all that Anders wanted. He’d wanted to be free, and now he’d never be. He had made a demon out of Justice, he couldn’t trust himself to make the right decisions. All of this had been a mistake. And even if he succeeded, one day the taint would come for him. 

Don’t think like that! It wasn’t his fault that the world had made him like this! This was worth every price! He knew that!

There had to be something to get him out of this, change of course—

He couldn’t be trusted, couldn’t be relied on! He didn’t know what to do!

He would find a way, he had to! The circles had to go! They had never cared about the suffering they inflicted on mages, generation after generation! Whatever he could do it would be justified! They had sealed their fate centuries ago!

They had to go, but—

IT WOULD ONLY BE JUST!

Anders winced, the words booming in his skull with terrible finality. Something in his mind was burgeoning against his defenses, the veil around him straining and warping under its stress. Anders hissed, stemming against the tide of righteous fury and frustration that incensed Vengeance. The pressure abated not long after, but the damage was done. His heart and head were pounding, everything in him was reeling as it had when he’d woken, but suddenly he remembered: he knew where he was. Down this street past the merchant’s stand, one more set of stairs, then turn right. He was nauseous with resentment, though he couldn’t say if it was his own or who it was aimed at. He almost stumbled his way up. It was embarrassing that it felt as though he would be okay if he just made it there, maybe, but he’d lost all of his dignity already running through Kirkwall like a madman. Might as well act like a child and pretend the bad things can’t get him so long as the candle was burning. He rounded the corner, his heart skipping a beat. When he saw it, relief washed over him warmly and he couldn’t help but laugh.

Somehow he’d made it to the Hanged Man just in time.

Not giving himself the time for second thoughts he pushed past a drunken patron through the entrance door, praying that they weren’t closed yet. With a creak the door swung open for him, allowing him to step inside, the tavern reeking of desperation and hundreds of beers and ales spilled over the decades. Barely anyone was still here. The old man who was always muttering to himself was sitting at one of the tables by himself, apparently only half-awake, and a man was leaning on the counter where the tired bartender Corff was already eyeing Anders. No Isabela, no Varric. Shit.

“We’re about to close.”

Anders paused and dug through the pocket of his coat for coins. “Enough time left for me to get a drink, right?” He gave the man a strained smile and slid the silver he’d found across the counter, hating the way he couldn’t keep his hands still. The man caved.

With his freshly-purchased drink in hand and a view to the door Anders plopped down on one of the benches in the back of the room, sinking in on himself a little. He hadn’t planned to actually drink anything, but the longer he sat the more he became aware of how drained he really was. A dull ache spread through his whole body from exhaustion and his throat and mouth were parched while hair stuck uncomfortably to his forehead with sweat. His mind was suspiciously quiet when he raised the bottle to his lips and drank. The sense of doom and the heat of anger however still formed a tight knot in his chest that kept him tense, so he knew it wasn’t over yet. Static buzzed in his ears.

When the entrance door creaked once more, Anders perked up.

Sheer dumb luck, Anders couldn’t believe it, it was sheer dumb luck that the person who entered really was Varric. When he spotted Anders he raised his hand in greeting and made a beeline to his table.

“Varric, we’re closing!” Corff yelled in dismay, but the dwarf only waved him off.

“You know, you should probably consider listening to him” Anders commented as Varric took a seat across from him against the bartender’s protests. “One day he’ll stab you in your sleep.”

“Oh he’s harmless” Varric said. He opened his mouth as if to elaborate, but something in his expression changed when he looked at Anders. Then after some apparent deliberation with a bit too much sincerity: “…You look like shit.”

The corners of Anders’ lips twitched up reflexively, unsure yet if he wanted the concern. “And here I was thinking I only felt like it!”

Anders didn’t feel like joking, he hadn’t felt like it in weeks but there was something soothing about when they both broke out into nervous chuckles over his quip. A bit like a reassurance that oh right, so he could still talk like a person.

“Did you run into any trouble?”

Anders made it a point to yawn. “I just fell asleep in the clinic. I wouldn’t recommend it.”

Varric didn’t inquire further even though Anders could see that he knew it was a bit more than that. There was a twinge of disappointment and unease. Usually Varric would fill moments like this with empty talk but for some reason he was holding off on it. So they sat suspended in unnatural silence until Anders had drunk the last drop from his bottle. He licked his lip, waiting for Varric to strike but nothing came. The only quiet sounds came from the bar and the fire crackling nearby, the static in Anders’ head grew louder. He was getting ready to abandon ship if this was how it was going to go, when it occurred to him what Varric was doing.

Anders studied his companion’s face, who was pretending to read a letter he’d pulled from one of his pockets. It would be terrifyingly easy to tell him about everything that was troubling him; really, a part of Anders yearned to let it all spill out of him in the hope that maybe once it was out this pressure in his head would be gone. That used to work. But there was too much to put to words by now, steeped in too much shame, and too much that Varric for all his kindness simply wouldn’t understand. Or shouldn’t have to hear. Once he said it, he would never be able to take any of it back. But, Anders didn’t want to leave. He desperately didn’t want to leave and be alone with himself. And there was something that he knew would be safest with Varric. It would be a compromise.  

“I should come back in the evening when the others are here” Anders ventured.

Varric didn’t even look up. “Oh come on. You don’t come by the Hanged Man much anymore, would be a shame if you left so soon. You must’ve missed the filth.”

“Not particularly, no.”

“Don’t be so serious, of course you have! It goes great with your look right now. So, are you staying?”

Corff was glowering at them now. “Sure.”

Varric stuffed the letter back to where it came from with less care than one would a handkerchief and got up. Anders hesitated one last moment before he followed suit, swallowing his reluctance as he took the familiar path up to Varric’s room. In all the years he’d known Varric, somehow the room had stayed mostly the same. Much of that was probably to blame on the tavern itself, but it still struck Anders now that it had been some time since he’d last been in there. The biggest difference he could make out was that there were now chairs to accommodate a human or an elf; there were little traces that friends had left. It was weirdly cute.   

Anders sank on the chair closest to Varric’s favorite little throne, stretching out his legs. For a room at the Hanged Man it was really quite nice, even if the lack of windows was depressing. He felt a bit out of place.

Varric took his seat and wrung his hands. “So what are you in the mood for? Need an editor for your manifesto, or do you want to brainstorm—“

“No” Anders cut him off sharply. “Not tonight.”

“Somebody’s touchy” Varric scoffed. “But alright. What is it then?”

Anders tried to collect his thoughts, frustrated with himself that he was so out of practice that he couldn’t be like Varric and talk about things without mentioning them. His gaze lingered on the vase with wilted flowers Varric kept on his desk next to an unopened bottle of a Tevinter vintage. “I’ve been thinking about how I’ve gone into the Deep Roads twice now since leaving the Grey Wardens.”

“Oh? You’re not getting nostalgic now, are you? I know I said you should reconsider your career but…”     

“No. No, not at all. I absolutely despise the Deep Roads. I’m still angry at Hawke for asking me to come along at all. I thought he knew better than that” Anders admitted, the words bitter on his tongue. Acrid fumes, the unnerving feeling of another creature in his blood. “But it’s hard to say no to him, so guess I’m the idiot.”

At that Varric’s expression briefly turned serious again. “It’s just our luck that whenever the Deep Roads are involved, we either get screwed over or somebody’s got it out for Hawke. But I could also live without ever having to go down there again.”

“That isn’t the point. But it’s actually a bit funny. Hawke reminds me at times of the Warden Commander.”

“How so?”

“Charismatic bastards that attract a special kind of trouble and surround themselves with the worst kinds of people” Anders deadpanned, relieved when Varric relaxed again.

“We’re just a bit rough around the edges” Varric replied. “But go on, I’m interested in hearing this.”

“How much have I told you before?”

“Aside from the story of how you were recruited and how mad the templar was that the Hero of Ferelden and the King were both telling her off? A story here and there. If I didn’t already know the Order is fishy, I’d have guessed as much from how you talk about them.”

Anders clicked his tongue. “Well then. Care to hear about my dark past?”

“Sure” Varric said with a wink. “It’ll come in handy if I ever need inspiration for unrealistic Grey Warden characters.”

Anders grinned. “So have you heard this one before: the Hero of Ferelden, a drunk dwarf, an apostate and his cat, a member of the legion of the dead, the son of the disgraced Howe family, a slightly homicidal Dalish mage and a rotting corpse walk into the Deep Roads…”

“A corpse?!”

“And yet somehow the dwarf smelled worst” Anders joked. “Oghren was a complete pig. At first I didn’t really understand why we were bothering with him, but apparently he’d traveled with the Warden Commander during the Blight. Turned out he really had a hand for cutting down darkspawn. So much so that he left his wife and unborn child to go kill more of them. …Thinking about it, I’m sure he would have loved the Hanged Man. Filthy, barely any sunlight during the day, cheap alcohol…”

“Ouch, that was unnecessary” Varric grumbled. “But I’ve heard that name before. Maybe he should’ve just stayed in Orzammar, Maker knows they’re always trying to get their hands on lunatics like that. A corpse though—”

“The strange thing is that they were all like this” Anders insisted. “And if they weren’t from the start, they would be by the end of it. Nathaniel made the classic mistake of trying to assassinate the Warden Commander in revenge for daddy dearest and got recruited as thanks. He was a terrible grump about it too and said he'd rather be hanged. But give it a little time and before you knew it he was fully indoctrinated. So maybe what Orzammar really needs is better recruiters.”

“I’ll let them know somehow” Varric snorted and rose from his seat. Anders watched him grab a bottle and pour its content into a glass. He was beginning to feel as though a string that was cutting into his flesh was threatening to loosen, only a little bit. Varric placed the glass in front of him and settled back into his own chair, keeping an expectant eye on him. “Go on.”

Anders nodded to Varric in silent thanks and eagerly drank the watered down ale. “She’d recruited really anyone who seemed half-way capable and was unlucky enough to cross our path. So that’s how we ended up with Velanna and Sigrun. I think Velanna only listened to us because the Warden Commander was Dalish herself. When we found her she was having a grand time burning down trade caravans because she was convinced her sister had been abducted by humans, when it was really darkspawn. Sigrun got recruited after we fought our way through a thaig together. She was an awfully cheerful lady for someone who was supposed to be dead. Pick-pocketed me at least six times for sport though.”

“And it kept working?”

“She was really good.”

“I’m sure she was. And…?”

“And then there was Ser Pounce-a-lot, the best kitten anyone could ask for. There isn’t much to say about the corpse, Varric.”

Varric put his hands up defensively. “Excuse me, but you can’t drop that in there and expect me to not be curious!”

“That was Justice’s old host” Anders explained, overcome with a shiver that wasn’t his own.  “He doesn’t want me to talk about it. Just know that he was there.”

“Oh.”

Anders’ vision zeroed in momentarily on the wine bottle. Another bottle just like this always stood in Hawke’s study where he needed it most. “But I think that gives you a pretty good idea of what we were like.”

Varric hummed and scratched his chin. “Should I be worried that you’re comparing us to that little cult you’re describing?”

“In our defense, we were a pretty fun cult sometimes.”

Anders set his glass down softly before he crossed his arms, leaned back in his chair and frowned at the ceiling in thought. He’d always kept to the stories that didn’t require context or detail beyond the way the hurlock had tripped over his staff and off a cliff. He hadn’t thought before about how to convey personalities or meaning while leaving the important things unspoken. The Warden Commander wiping blood from her cheek, bent over the dead body of the ogre she’d killed. Hawke breathing hard, checking to see if he had killed the Arishok for good.    

“Think about it: If it weren’t for Hawke, none of us would given the other a second glance” Anders began. “That’s what it was like with the Warden Commander as well. They’re the kind of people that draw others to them and make you want to stick around just to see what they get up to next.”

“That… puts it well actually.”

“How many times has Hawke asked you to join him to do something that is obviously a bad idea? And you went along anyway? That happens practically every other week.”

“Like all the times he decided he’d pick a fight with every gang in Hightown? Or maybe when he took us to the Wounded Coast and got involved with hunting down an extremely dangerous criminal? Everything involving the Qunari? My personal favorite is the time he went to kill some dragons with us in the Bone Pit.”

“Exactly—“ Anders had to swallow, “but you always expect things to go well just because he seems so convinced that it will.”

“And it usually does.”

“It does. Every time we go into a fight I can’t help but trust him.”

He stopped himself there. Why had he agreed to come with to the Deep Roads? Because so long as Hawke was there, it was as though there was a lifeline. The inevitability of this world seemed to hold less power over him and it was eating Anders up with envy and admiration. He had no choice but to want to stay near.  Varric waited patiently. Perhaps he understood what Anders couldn’t think.

Eventually he asked: “So what did the Hero of Ferelden do that gained your trust?”

“Oh, I saw her do a vertical leap and ram a sword straight through an ogre’s skull.”

“…You’re shitting me.”

Anders shifted for comfort, glad to direct the conversation into a different direction. “I’m serious. And she made it look easy, too. It was equal parts disgusting and impressive.”

“What did that look like, exactly?” Varric asked, sounding casual but Anders recognized that curious glint in his eyes.

Anders felt another grin pulling at his mouth. “We were harmlessly traipsing around the Wending Woods killing darkspawn, when suddenly that big stupid beast charged at us. All the Warden Commander did was to jump straight up and angle her sword right and the ogre practically impaled itself. She braces herself against the ogre that is still barreling forward, yanks her blade out and blood explodes everywhere. We’re all hit by the spray while she manages a perfect landing as the ogre collapses behind her.”

“Do you have more details by any chance?”

“She had her sword enchanted with a rune that imbued it with electricity, so it smelled of smoked darkspawn in the whole clearing. Is that graphic enough? If not, I can go on all day. Grey Wardens kill a lot of darkspawn.”

Apparently delighted by what he was hearing Varric sat straighter, his hand hovering near a quill but not grabbing it. Anders took it as an invitation anyway, blowing the spider webs off memories he’d kept stowed away. He started off with the easy things, stories like the ones with the ogre. Violence was mindlessly entertaining after all. Gesticulating dramatically he told of encounters with sylvans, of blighted wolves, of the ghosts of dwarves conjured by stone hacking at impressions of darkspawn, reenacting their deaths until the end of time. He regaled Varric with all the darkspawn heads that had exploded from shield bashes, arrows and magic blasts.    Whatever bound him was unraveling. His heart beat fast in excitement whenever Varric interjected and needled him, when they both laughed at the absurdity of it all. Nathaniel once shot a genlock with its own arrow. One hurlock was so confused to see its fellow darkspawn beheaded in one swing of Oghren’s axe that it suffered the same fate. Velanna’s fireballs had singed Ander’s robes on more than one occasion. Soon Varric began to share his own tales, giving Anders the space to remember the little things quietly by himself. Taking a week to learn that the Warden Commander’s name was Serket because nobody ever used it. Sigrun proudly showing off the brass telescope she’d been given. How he smuggled Ser Pounce-a-lot along on missions and had to chase after the cat through half of Amaranthine.  He was feeling more like a person, more like himself than he had in months.

Vengeance’s ache continued to sit with him through it all but it was different now. What had split his head in half hours ago with every heart beat was just the occasional throb behind his eye. The separation between then and now may only be paper-thin but it was there. No, so maybe he wouldn’t tell Varric of the Architect with his intelligent darkspawn and that Hawke and Serket thus had more in common than immunizing against common sense. He wouldn’t talk about the children or how he was being eaten alive by his choices. But with Varric he didn’t have to for the pressure to ease.

By the end of it Anders was curled up in his chair, his coat hung over the backrest for cushoning. The conversation had trickled away somewhere along the way. The stasis wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was tinged with the melancholy of knowing that morning had come. There was a sliver of light coming from under the door. Varric had gotten up and laid down out of sight from him some time ago. Anders scratched his neck in anticipation, static back in his head as he bated his breath. This silence wasn’t empty yet, the way it was when people decide to go to sleep. This was the twilight hour in between. The backrest dug into his cheek.

“Why did you leave the Wardens then?”

And exhaled. “That’s complicated.”

“So?”

“I was a different person back then.”

“Well yeah, people change. That’s what being a person is like.”

Feeling the fade touch his mind when he agreed to take Justice into him, believing with all his being that this would be the key. A queasy mixture of joy and bitterness accompanied the memory as he and Justice couldn’t agree. The water had only continued to rise around him. What did he have to show for the person he was now?

He could hear Varric turn over. “Listen, Blondie. So maybe you weren’t a good Grey Warden. But you’ve picked another battle that’s about as insane and that unfortunately seems to be working for you.”

Anders stared into the darkness of the room wordlessly, blinking as though stunned. He waited until he was certain that Varric was asleep, listening close for his breathing. “Thank you, Varric.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Of course he’d say that. If he were to mention it to Varric later anyway he’d brush it off and find a way to paint it as the most incidental thing in the world. Anders curled in more on himself even though would become painful soon, finally closing his eyes. A deep calm crept into the space the tension had left behind.

Varric’s friendship was so often understated like that. It made it so easy to want to confide in him, simply because he didn’t ask too much. Nothing had to be serious. He cared in a way that Anders hadn’t had enough mind to appreciate lately. Maybe you couldn’t trust him to keep all your secrets, but you could always trust him to remind you that you were only a person. Varric was a good friend. He’d have to find something to give to Varric, something that would leave a trace of him, something to express… He’d find something… something…

Hours after Anders had left, Varric noticed a single tawny feather on the ground under one of his chairs. He picked it up, held it between his fingers briefly before he placed it gently among his other keepsakes. 

#dragon age #dragon age 2 #dragon age fanfiction #anders #varric

[zelskzerker]

Mangadex went down so I read alot 1/7

Lets review a bunch of isekai and related stuff I binged because mangadex went down. The scale will be a single thumbs up to a single thumbs down in terms of how much I would consider recommending it in general.

Legend

Chapters 1-51 Pretty straight forward in most aspects. For the best. Nothing crazy bad or good happening, making it surprisingly straight forward for an isekai. [Insert isekai startup here] but this time the MC is given a super magic body and the knowledge of ancient magic. Which he promptly uses to create a griffon buddy. Gets a THUMB IN THE UPPER CORNER for just being a nice, believable stay in a world, but I have read some stuff that really has interesting sparks the way this doesnt. MC is brutal at times and General Princess is cute. They make a good pair for each other.  Although there are no ecchi situations, that artist really knows how to slide in the lewds, whether its mid combat flourishes or pre chapter artwork.

The Black Create Summoner: Revolt of Reincarnated

All Chapters

Truly is revolting. A resounding THUMBS DOWN.  Apparently this was just an advertisement manga, which means that its intentionally incomplete and unsatisfying. Ontop of that, the sketchy artwork was generally rough and got worse to look at the more it went on. [Insert isekai startup here] but this time he has a grimoire that lets him summon stuff he draws. The power isn’t used that much though or in that creative of ways. Characters didn’t really leave an impact except maybe the elf little sister that is stubborn yet knows she is incompotent and recruits a dragon out of stubbornness. 

Minotaur’s Sweetheart

Chapters 1-16

So what if a minotaur accidentally seduced the adventurer that was assigned to kill him? This is a good romance manga deserving a THUMBS UP because the pure-hearted minotaur boy and the unmarriageable adventurer girl actually develop a relationship and progress as people. The manga is ultimately about monsters and humans interacting and is fresh due to having a plot that evolves the situation a lot beyond the initial setup of the manga.

Moon-led Journey Across Another World

Chapters 1-64

[Insert isekai startup here] but this time the god of the new world calls the MC ugly and banishes him to the edge of the world to die off. In order to help out the MC, the god of our world (Tsukuyomi) gives him a bit of power. The MC is funny to watch once you realize that he is an incredibly cautious pureboy and expecting every common street thug to potentially end him but in reality he is a god-rivaling cataclysm himself and never realizes. He is so powerful that he recruits the blue haired mist dragon, Tomoe, and accidentally turns her into a weeaboo. Tomoe can read minds and access pocket space with her mist ontop of her sick weeaboo katana skills. She really shines as the most mature person in the story, gaining information that no one else in the story has and carefully withholding it from the MC in order to protect his innocence. She is a DAMN good tomboyish waifu and sarashii is a blessing. Other main girl is yandere spider, Mio, which has shockingly good and well conveyed bouts of emotion. She has an extremely rare “can’t cook at all” joke that is explained due to her “eat literally anything” nature. In terms of plot, the MC hates the god of the world he is in and pretty much plans to do everything she doesn’t want him to. Which means mingling with humans, and eventually, god slaying/usurption. Odd think about this manga is that it’s heavily Japanese-inspired. That may sound odd because its a manga, but generally isekai are most medieval/western skinned than this one which leans in on Japanese mythos. Just look at the god of our world in the manga.

THUMBS UP.

The Unsuccessful yet Academically Unparalleled Sage ~A Cheating S-Rank Sorcerer's Post-Rebirth Adventurer Log~

Chapter 1-10 So lets set up this genre here. This is a part of the “reincarnation” genre, which is a spinoff of isekai. They generally depict a very capable mage who reincarnates themselves into the future of their own world. At which point they realize that although they were pretty strong in their day, they are now practically a god in the deteriorated modern day. This genre will hereby be indicated by [Insert reincarnation startup here]. For this manga in specific, [Insert isekai startup here] but this time the MC could only use lightning magic and was the best at it but failed the gene gacha then [Insert reincarnation startup here] and he fails gene gacha again but is still the walking thunder god. These kinds of manga are always precious when the MC can walk through the world and see the fruits of their past labor. Specifically through Merlin, the MC’s adopted demon daughter who has grown up to be his heritor and bridge human/demon relationships. Truly adorable and heart warming. Lacks a bit of spice from themeing or ongoing plot due to its short length however. THUMB IN THE UPPER CORNER.

Older Elite Knight is cute only in front of me

Chapters 1-17.1

THUMBS UP. This is an oneshota manga where shota is a chad with incredibly good tastes. A really good ecchi manga with a light hearted story featuring Haru(the shota) knight that joins Karen’s(the oneesan) knight crew. As with all good romance manga, the main plot isn’t romance. Knight shenanigins are always happening, with a big (and lewd) bad entering recently. Top tier variation on the lewds, even including a princess loli in on the fun. Must read for all oneshota fans.

Lonely Attack on A Different World

Chapter 1-91

[Insert isekai startup forma de classroom here] but this time the MC gets leftover garbage skills and has to learn to survive. Learning to survive thus makes him the most op and he can magic trick his way out of literally anything. Strong start as the whole classroom first tries to get their footing, but after the starting arc is done this manga starts spinning it’s wheels. The manga is kinda lacking in themes, overarching plot and end goals, so stuff just happens to make this a sort of slice of life trap room escape manga. Magic “just works” in this universe so its not very dramatic when the MC pulls out a new trick out of his bag of million tricks. Just kinda stagnates too much for my liking. THUMB IN THE BOTTOM CORNER.

The Unwanted Undead Adventurer

Chapters 1-34

Rentt Faina, the MC, is a good guy with no talent who aspires to be a legendary adventurer. But then he gets turned into a skeleton, giving the chance to evolve his way to greatness, kinda like in Spider isekai or Dragon isekai. The MC is most like Goblin Slayer in his serious and knowledgeable approach to the world, how characters that know him revere him. End goal so far is just him seeing how far he can evolve as he comes across other vampires and vampire hunters. Really want to see him go to the top. Fuckin great art. Girls drawn perfect. Like the hat on the guild girl, but nothing beats the witch Lorraine. THUMBS UP.

Teihen Ryoushu No Kanchigai Eiyuutan

Chapters 1-13

THUMB IN UPPER CORNER. Pretty funny comedy about a lord of a poor land who wants to be a stereotypical evil lord but can only use healing magic. Therefore he bumbles his way into accepting a heretical cult nun, beast men who hate humans, etc. All the girls are to crazy for him to want to sex them(weak. give the assassin nun your babies). Most interesting parts are aforementioned nun, his fujoshi assistant, and the MC’s willingness to use his power to commit heretical and immoral warcrimes. 

The Undead Lord of the Palace of Darkness

Chapters 1-11

Art average, don’t come to this one for spectacle. It’s strength is in the subertfuge that it’s recently-necromanced-back-to-life MC goes through to get his Master killed and to later, probably, evolve into a vampire. MC isn’t evil though, just wants to survive. Main girl on cover was born and raised to hunt vampires but has a compassionate heart. Obviously she goes easy on and relates to MC. Story is still kinda in it’s first arc so the overall trajectory of the story is a bit hard to gauge and not quite satisfying enough by its own right. Probably a thumb up with more chapters but for now THUMB IN THE UPPER CORNER.

The Reincarnated Inferior Magic Swordsman

Chapters 1-38

[Insert isekai startup here] but this time.... uh... THUMB SIDEWAYS. Usually I am patient, but 31 chapters with no goal and just barely plot? Wow. Saving grace is uh... I guess the world of “other isekai people existed but they sucked because they didn’t level uncap like MC” could go somewhere but. I take it back, lowering this one to a THUMB DOWN.

The Invincible Sage in the Second World.

Chapters 1-12

[Insert isekai startup here] but this time a pro mmo player in a game called “Broken Balance Online.” Guess what his class, the sage class, was considered in the game? Not far along enough to really pop off but it isn’t horrible. MC is moderately cautious to a healthy degree which is actually rare in most isekai. THUMB IN BOTTOM LEFT CORNER. 

The Dark Queen and I Strike Back

Chapters 1-29.5

Although technically an isekai, no isekai startup here. This a battle manga with a big mystery on the backdrop of a war. That is to say, the MC gets teleported to a world to kill the demons but he ends up defending them from the humans with all he’s got. Of special note is the complete seriousness of this manga that whiplashes into debauchery like tentacles, the above cover, oneshota, and even really dark jokes in some of the omake. That tonal lash effect will be either make or break, and it is a HUGE make for me. I love when a single piece can have both absolute serious scenes and utterly lighthearted and fluffy ones. Or in this case utterly lewd ones. May the average-human-amount-of-perverted MC one day slam some demon lord loli. THUMBS UP.

Chillin' in Another World with Level 2 Super Cheat Powers

Chapters 1-24

THUMB SIDEWAYS. Has the feeling of a nerfed slime isekai. Nerfed in all ways except romance. Art surprisingly good.

#Legend #The Black Create Summoner: Revolt of Reincarnated #Minotaur’s Sweetheart #Moon-led Journey Across Another World #The Unsuccessful yet Academically Unparalleled Sage ~A Cheating S-Rank Sorcerer's Post-Rebirth Adventurer Log~ #Older Elite Knight is cute only in front of me #Lonely Attack on A Different World #The Unwanted Undead Adventurer #Teihen Ryoushu No Kanchigai Eiyuutan #The Undead Lord of the Palace of Darkness #The Reincarnated Inferior Magic Swordsman #The Invincible Sage in the Second World. #The Dark Queen and I Strike Back #Chillin' in Another World with Level 2 Super Cheat Powers

[luvleekaotix-imagines]

Hello 😚 Can you write a fanfic between Vergil (DMC game) and a Dhampir reader (a hybrid of a vampire and a mortal) who is capable of using ice magic in combat? Please add a scene in which the reader is satisfied drinking human blood (in a goblet), when caught by V she gives him a mysteriousss smile 😈 I'm sure this relationship is going to be very interesting 🤣 Thanks for receiving my request, luv ya 😘

A/N: [sliiiiides in] ahhhhh ha ha I am back on my fucking dmc bullshit lets fucking gooooo bitcchhh. This is a very odd mix of ideas that I can’t put into one thing, so hopefully its okay I kind of take the gist of it and put my own spin on it. Also it’s been a million zillion years since I’ve written, so be gennnntleeeeee. Or hate it, idk, whatever.

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

You were still learning the ins and outs of what you were. Everyday there was something new to learn. There were a million things to not understand. A million boundaries to push and pull and play with. It was exhausting, it was fun, it was wild and beyond anything you could have imagined.

The best and worst part was that you were not alone in this journey. Since it was Devil May Cry agency who found you that fateful day, lost in blood and rain, it was the Devil May Cry agency that watched over you. At first it was to keep an eye on what you were, but eventually it was because they loved who you were. Of course, the feelings were mutual.

“Don’t do it.” Vergil’s stern warning cut through the ringing in your head as you stared at one of the weakened demons in front of you. When you took a step forwards, he clicked his tongue. “What did I just say?”

“Oh, but I just—you know, I’m so...” There was a terrifying glee reflected in your eyes. Or was the hunger? Sometimes the expressions looked the same. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. Just a b-bit—” You stuttered as your teeth grew sharp. It was uncontrollable when you crossed the line into this state.

“You need to learn to control your urges, Little Fang.” V seemed content not to stop you. He knew his reflection would disagree, but you were one to learn through experience, not stern words. “It’s your turn to carry them back, by the way.” He shot Vergil a sly look and got a scowl in return.

“I am well aware.” If you fucked up his coat again though, you’d be in for it.

You panted as the ringing in your ears became so loud that it drowned out any of the banter. All you could see was the life beating within the demon in front of you. It looked so—hells, it looked so delicious. Something in you was desperate to harvest it all.

In a blur, you launched forwards and sunk your teeth deep into the demon’s flesh. There was a distant howl and you weren’t sure if was one of pain from your prey, or your own muffled predatory roar. Nothing mattered when you fed except for the feeding itself. The feeling of draining life was so, so intoxicating. You could never find the words to explain it when someone asked. You felt full, you felt powerful, you felt—

Suddenly you pulled yourself away from the demon. Your vision cleared enough for you to spot Vergil and V watching you with knowing looks. 

And then the world began to slowly move even though you were standing still.

You felt sick.

You instantly vomited all the black ichor you had hastily consumed. You coughed out little shreds of flesh that you had managed to tear off with your sharp teeth. “...M-mistake.” You wheezed. The taste was awful. Oh god! Holy shit! You gagged at the aftertaste. The hunger in you had quietened, but at what cost? You could also feel some power being absorbed into your body, so it wasn’t like it had completely rejected the demonic essence. It was more likely that you had consumed too much, too quickly.

“Well, at least you held on a little longer than the last time.” V carefully approached you and offered a warm hand which you gratefully took. You were starting to feel a lot more unsteady on your feet. Not quite drunk, but something akin to vertigo.

“L-last time?” Your head was starting to clear, even though the nausea lingered. Ohhh… The last time was with V and Nero and it was ugly. Nico made you clean out the van on your own and she was right to do it. You opened your mouth to protest—

“We did try to stop you. Don’t even try to make that argument.” Vergil very quickly cut in and gestured for V to hand you over to him. “If you ruin my coat, I will make you pay for it.”

“Why are you bullying a sick person? You’re mean, Vergil.” You whined as you were put in the blue devil’s arms. You felt so ill. Fuck your hunger. You understood that you had to learn to control it, but it was hard to ignore. Really, really hard. Frustration and shame seeped into your feelings of sickness.

V trailed behind but had sent Griffon ahead to let the rest of the agency know you were unwell. “You seem intent on learning to control your hunger the hard way.”

“What other way is there, you dickhead?” You snarled. Vergil coughed to try and hide a laugh, or maybe you accidentally elbowed him in indignation. “You have no idea how it feels when the hunger hits. Nothing else matters. It’s really—it just takes hold.”

There was no reasoning with you, at least not right now. V knew your caustic name-calling was out of frustration and you’d apologise to him later in private when you were feeling better. The last time this happened you had used a lot more colourful language to curse both him and Nero out, so this was just peachy compared.

You settled into Vergil’s arms and kind of sulked as the three of you trudged on in silence. “...This sucks.”

“It was never going to be easy.” It was as warm as Vergil would get.

“Yeah…” You chewed on your lip. “At least I have you guys to help.” The thought actually made you feel a bit better.

But then—

Vergil resisted the urge to yell as ichor dribbled out of your mouth and onto his sleeve. 

���Oh god—I am so sorry, Vergil, I swear—I didn’t even know it was coming up, it just came out—”

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

A/N: Post hunger clarity like post nut clarity???? Adfegzrhtrdmngbzfsdfa whats the bet the snarky DMC crew tell you to feed before you make seemingly bad decisions to see if you really wanna do that or not dafsdmhtrgefsaggrsfeas hahaha

[loopy777]

RE: WIPs game: so, haru-tylee. that's one of my favorite crackships right there. what's that doing in your WIPs folder?

Ah, yes, that one. This is the piece that taught that I'm completely incapable of writing an in-character Haru.

I know, it's a weird character to stumble over, but it's true. He's just so bland in personality that there's nothing for me to grip onto. I have to write an exaggerated comedic personality for him in some way, or else the words just stop flowing from my fingers. Writing this small piece was like trying to lift concrete. I can write Azula in the midst of a depressed breakdown more easily than I can write Haru just being a nice dude.

As for why I made the attempt, it was for an exchange. One of the specified pairings was Haru/TyLee, and my only experience with it was that moment in the Chibi short. I figured it would be something fun to try, with a dash of some Romeo&Juliet tension, and would let me write more Ty Lee.

Fortunately, after I recovered from having my soul sucked out of my body, I was able to use one of the recipient's other pairings and meet the deadline (Long Feng/Song, and it resulted in a piece I'm still rather fond of).

Looking back at what I've written, it's not anything bad (except the part where Haru is given the assignment; woof, that's some first-draft writing), but it feels like it's missing some of the SNAP that I like to think exists in my better works. I dunno, maybe if I'd stuck with it, I'd have been able to revise it into something pretty good. Some of my best stuff lacked the SNAP until a little editing found it.

Once again, since this is a relatively short thing that I'll never finish, I might as well post everything I have:

Haru wasn't comfortable with the situation from the start.

When he and his father set out to help liberate all the conquered villages in the entire province, sure, he had been completely on board. It was difficult leaving Mom, but she wasn't a fighter, and Haru couldn't stay behind while Dad went on to help free all the other villages. The other Earthbenders had lent their aid to Haru's home, and it was only right to put his own skills to task returning the favor. That was good work. Not only was Haru living his dream of finally fighting back against the oppressors, he was doing it with his Dad, and together they were continuing their Earthbending training.

However, it seemed that there was more to a war than just saving people and fighting bad guys. An actual General in the Earth Kingdom military contacted their rebel group. This general, Fong, was maintaining a base right near the coast, and doing everything he could to keep his mountainous territory from being overrun by the Fire Nation. The messenger explained that Fong had heard of the rebel group's actions, and applauded them, and wished to direct their attention to an even more insidious threat than Fire Nation conquerors.

The Fire Nation was also trying to destroy the Earht Kingdom's culture. There was a traveling group, it was explained, devoted to showcasing Fire Culture in a manner designed to appeal to the common people. Fong couldn't spare the resources to track the group down and "discourage" its members, but perhaps a small network of Earthbender rebels could find the time? Such a favor would also be proof of the rebels' reliability.

That's how Haru and his Dad wound up attacking a circus, of all things, and taking all its members captive after a small skirmish that barely qualified as a brawl. Most had been caught in their tents and carts, and seized without a fight. Some of the Firebenders had tried resisting, but they turned out to be mere showmen, and were easily taken by the experienced Earthbender fighters.

Then, the rebels had to figure out what to do with their new prisoners of war. That's where the trouble began.

*

The noise that night was unbearable. By midnight, the circus animals still hadn't settled down, and no knew what, exactly, to do with them. "We can't just open their cages and set them free," Dad -- Tyro the Indomitable, as most of the rebels called him now -- said to the assembled leadership. "I don't even recognize half these creatures, let alone know if they can survive in this forest."

Haru stepped closer to his dad. "Also, some of them might wander back, and either attack or lead enemies right to us," he said. Around the fire, some of the other rebel leaders nodded in agreement, and Haru had to suppress a smile. He didn't want to give the impression of having a childish need for validation, but after living powerlessly for so long, it was fulfilling to be treated as a man, with respect, by other people that he in turn respected. He had taken to wearing a mustache not to look more adult, but because it felt right.

Back towards the main tent, the screech of what sounded like a Sky Bison-sized bird tore through the night. Everyone around the fire winced. "Well, we have to do something to quiet them," someone said.

One gray-haired woman, part of the original group that had escaped from the same prison rig as Haru and his father, looked at the younger Earthbender. "You're a smart young man. Why don't you pick one of the prisoners and get them to help. Find someone docile who knows what to do with those dusty creatures, and keep an eye on them. You're young and bold, so you can handle it if they try to give you trouble. Maybe one of the captives will be more interested in helping the creatures than escaping."

Haru blinked. He had fought beside all these people, but he wasn't expecting to be handed responsibility for a personal prisoner. That seemed like a job for someone more... ruthless. "How will I know who to pick?"

His dad chuckled. "Look at their eyes. People can hide their intentions, but not their spirit."

Haru nodded, unsure- but ready to accept everyone's faith in him.

*

All of the prisoners were being held in one of the larger tents, seated on the dirt floor.

Haru hadn't picked the ringmaster, because the man wouldn't stop talking, blustering simultaneously about the troupe's innocence and the coming vengeance of the Fire Nation. He didn't pick the man who professed to be the animal tender, because he was a Firebender who had demonstrated some fine control of his element before he had been dogpiled by a team of Earthbenders in the initial attack; besides, the man had an oily quality that Haru didn't like. He didn't pick the strongman because -- seriously -- the guy was huge!

In the end, it was the trapeze artist who Haru thought was the best bet. She had friendly eyes, seemed well liked by the other prisoners, and didn't seem to quite realize that she was a captive of desperate rebels. Plus, she was just the high-wire act, not even a Bender, so it's not like she could cause much trouble. What could go wrong?

"You," he said, pointing at the girl. "You're coming with me."

She blinked innocently, her gray eyes wide. "Me?" She tilted her head to the side, and the ponytail hanging down her back shifted. She alone in all the circus folk wasn't wearing a straight shade of red; her two-piece tunic used tones of pink, and it somehow made her seem less like an enemy and more like a girl.

Of course, that kind of thinking could lead to trouble. Haru might be a teenage boy, but that didn't mean he had to let his own hormones goose-pigeonhole him as some kind of sap. Dad and the others were counting on him, here. "Yes, you, miss. The animals need to be fed. Do you know how?"

Her face positively lit up with a smile that included her eyes. "Oh! Yes, I know all the animals here! You wouldn't believe how many we have, from all over the world! The bear even knows how to walk the tightrope, just like me!"

Haru frowned. "Bear? What kind of bear?"

She winked. "A platypus-bear, silly. What kind of bear did you think?"

Haru ran his fingers through his mustache. At times like this, he found himself not quite used to the feel of it. "Let's... let's just get going."

*

"And this is Mister Screechy Feathers! He likes cabbages!" Ty Lee frowned. "Actually, now that I think about it, all these animals like cabbages. Well, except for the meat-eaters. I guess cabbage is the universal animal food? Or maybe we just get cabbage at a discount? I wonder who we buy it from..."

Haru decided that it was a good time to interrupt the acrobat and get her back on task.

Again.

"Well, wherever you get it," he said, "let's give some to him and move on. How many heads does he get?"

"Four. I think. Or maybe that was the platypus-bear. Oh well, we have plenty. We'll let him decide." With a giggle, Ty Lee trotted over to the wagon and began piling heads of cabbage under her arms.

Haru watched her carefully, maintaining a chi-connection with the Earth below his bare feet. She seemed harmless enough, but he was ready in case she decided to dash away. Of course, watching her body and her movements so closely, he was acutely aware of what a pleasant image she projected. She was a very pretty girl, and she didn't act like she was a prisoner. Dust, she didn't even act like she was Fire Nation. She was happy, and friendly. She was lighthearted in a way that Haru had forgotten could exist, in any nation.

Was this really the kind of person who could be trying to erase the Earth Kingdom's culture?

Then Haru realized he was staring, and that Ty Lee had noticed. "So, uh, what kind of animal is... Mister... Screechy Feathers?"

"A vulture-griffon," she cooed. "Isn't he cute?"

Haru looked over at the creature -- with a body like a jungle cat, the wings and gangly head of a buzzard -- then back at Ty Lee. He looked over again at the vulture-griffon, then back at Ty Lee. Vulture-griffon. Ty Lee. Griffon. Ty Lee. "Um, I can think of cuter things in this tent, right now," he found himself saying.

"Oh? Like what?" She leaned forward, and gazed right into his eyes.

Haru suddenly had trouble remembering what spoken language was.

That's when she threw a tight fist out at him and punched him hard near his shoulder.

Haru stumbled back, biting back a cry of pain, and tried to raise his hands into a defensive stance. Only one of his arms actually obeyed, and to Haru's growing horror, that came to a quick stop when Ty Lee leaned over and struck again. He stumbled back, more from his continuing state of shock than the pain, but the acrobat stayed with him, swept a leg to catch his own, and pushed at his chest.

Haru fell, and then reality suddenly went away.

*

Ty Lee felt just awful about the way Haru hit his head. She hadn't meant for him to step backwards and fall like that. Weren't Earthbenders supposed to especially stable, or something? Ty Lee thought she remembered learning something like that, but even if her recollection was correct, who knew if it was actually true? Lots of things Ty Lee had learned at the Academy turned out to be mistaken.

Still, she was nothing if not adaptable! As long as Haru was unconscious anyway, she might as well drag him off where no one could find him. That was part of her original plan, anyway, and she so rarely made plans that she might as well stick with this one.

Of course, her original plan also said she was supposed to tie Haru up and then go tappity-tap all the other Earthbenders by herself, so maybe she could make some changes as she went along. Princess Azula had said many times that it was okay. In fact, Ty Lee was pretty sure Azula said that the best plans were the ones that changed and got better.

Maybe. Or Azula said that her brother, Zuko, was a moron because he always changed his plans as they were happening. One of the two. Maybe both. Actually, this was pretty confusing.

Focus. Ty Lee carefully hoisted Haru up over her shoulders, and quietly carried him over to the back of the tent, where the hay-bales were piled up to make a kind of isolated shelter.

"Rrrrawk!" said Mister Screechy Feathers.

"Shhhhh," Ty Lee hissed. Honestly, that vulture-griffon could be so cranky sometimes. Although, Muzan was a pretty cranky Firewhipper himself, so maybe that rubbed off on all the animals he was in charge of training and feeding.

She got Haru over to her hiding place easily enough, and laid him down on a bed of loose hay. Now, her plan said she was supposed to restrain and leave him, but what if he had a concussion? She didn't want him hurt. Or dead! That would be awful! He was nice enough, for an enemy, and she could tell from his aura that he had a strong sense of family and honesty.

So Ty Lee sat down beside him, and hoped he would wake up soon.

*

Haru couldn't tell how much time had passed, when he came to. He had a tough time telling that he was conscious at all, actually.

#haru #ty lee #tylee #fanfic

[bard-llama]

Five Almost Kisses and One Happily Ever After (Parts 1+2)

Read on AO3

One

It wasn’t that Geralt was distracted. Yes, Jaskier was running around in his underclothes again, his embroidered chemise on display for any to see. But that was no reason for Geralt to be distracted. Jaskier could do whatever he wanted with his own body, including show it off.

He just wished the bard would put on his doublet for two minutes, so that Geralt could wipe out this nest of nekkers and be done with it.

The cut across his collar absolutely was not because Geralt was distracted. It was just – well, the nekker had gotten lucky! But Geralt sliced it in half in the second after it struck, and suddenly Jaskier’s scandalously unclad self was right in front of Geralt.

“Geralt! Fuck, let me tend to that, it looks bad,” Jaskier fretted.

Geralt wiped the monster blood off his fingers and pressed them against his wound. “Doesn’t feel too bad. Don’t think it’s deep.”

“Well thank fuck for that!” Jaskier put his hands on his hips, “That’s far too close to your neck, for my comfort. Sit down, let me clean it out.”

Geralt obediently took a seat on a convenient log and tilted his head to let Jaskier pour water over the scratch. There was a time he would’ve told Jaskier to fuck off and tended to the wound himself, but Geralt could admit – to himself, at least – that he liked it when Jaskier took care of him. So few people would bother to take care of a witcher, and it made warmth gather in Geralt’s chest that Jaskier was one of those few.

He hadn’t thought about the fact that he would have Jaskier, still in his chemise, standing directly in front of him. Geralt found himself at eye level with a tantalizing amount of chest hair that peeked out from the bard’s low cut chemise. Geralt knew Jaskier was talking as he poked at the cut that ran across Geralt’s right shoulder and down his collarbone, but Geralt didn’t hear any of it. All of his focus was on resisting the desperate urge to bury his face in that hair and kiss his way up Jaskier’s neck until he finally silenced the bard with his own lips.

Not that he truly thought that would keep Jaskier quiet. He’d overheard enough of the bard’s liaisons to know that Jaskier was never quiet, but maybe it was just that no one had ever driven him out of his mind enough to silence him. Geralt was willing to take that challenge on – but of course, Jaskier would never want him to.

That thought abruptly jarred Geralt back to the present, and he looked up to find Jaskier already looking at him.

Clearing his throat, he gruffly demanded, “what?”

Jaskier didn’t answer, but his fingers traced a parallel path next to the cut and Geralt shivered at the touch. When Jaskier leaned forward, just the smallest amount, Geralt thought maybe he’d been wrong. The way Jaskier was looking at him almost made him think that perhaps Jaskier would want him to –

A noisy screech made them both jerk apart, and Geralt leaped up with his sword in hand, the last remaining nekker falling to the ground dead before the noise had faded from his ears. They stood there in silence for a long moment, both staring at the monster corpse.

“Well,” Jaskier said loudly, clapping his hands together. “We should get the trophy – by which I mean you should, because ew – and head back to town.”

“Hmm,” Geralt grunted, and carefully didn’t think about the moment they’d almost shared. He was probably mistaken, anyway. Why would Jaskier ever want him?

Two

Ciri was hurt. That was all Geralt could think about. Ciri was hurt, and it was his fault. He shouldn’t have let her come with him to fight the griffon, even if she had been excelling in training lately. Geralt should have known better, shouldn’t have risked her safety over a contract that didn’t even pay as much as it should have.

“Geralt, stop,” Jaskier’s voice penetrated his guilt spiral. Geralt looked up across Ciri’s bed to see the bard holding a plate of sandwiches. “Yennefer said she’ll be fine. She’s just sleeping, and you need to eat, or you’ll pass out right next to her.”

“Will not,” Geralt grumbled, but he took one of the sandwiches. The least he could do for Ciri was be at full strength when she needed him.

Jaskier sighed, and sat down in a chair on the other side of the bed. “She wouldn’t want you to blame yourself, you know.”

“Doesn’t mean I shouldn’t.”

“Yeah, it kinda does, actually.” Jaskier reached towards Geralt before apparently thinking better of it and dropping his hand.

Geralt kind of wished he hadn’t – a touch wouldn’t fix this, wouldn’t make Ciri better or remove the blame from him. But it would be nice, to feel that silent support.

“She’s gonna be fine, Geralt.” Jaskier’s voice was soft, and Geralt looked up to meet his eyes. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Vesemir judged that Ciri was ready to be in the field – so did your brothers. You agreed that she was ready. Just because something went a little wrong this time doesn’t mean the decision was wrong. Sometimes, you can do everything right and still get hurt.” Jaskier tried a smile, “you should know that better than any.”

“She could have been killed.”

“So could you. So could either of you every time you leave. Life is danger, and that sucks, but you’ve trained her to prepare for it. If you hadn’t, she’d be hurt a lot worse, and you know it.”

Geralt reluctantly nodded. Ciri had gotten her blade up to divert the bulk of the blow in time, but humans bled so much from head wounds. The sight of Ciri’s blood covering his hands was one he would never forget.

“Geralt,” Jaskier murmured, “You’ve raised her right. She’ll still get hurt sometimes, yes, just like you do. But you both do your best to come home – and that’s all we can ask.” He bit his lip for a moment, staring at Geralt. “You’re such a good father to her,” A smile pulled at Jaskier’s lips, and he leaned over the bed towards Geralt. “I love the way you worry and fret, even though you pretend you don’t. You’re so protective of all of us. It’s sweet.”

Geralt grunted. Jaskier was definitely getting closer, and Geralt found himself leaning in as well, though he didn’t know why. It just seemed right, to match Jaskier. Jaskier’s eyes flicked down and his tongue swiped over his lips, drawing Geralt’s gaze.

Was this – were they about to–?

Ciri jerked upright with a violent gasp and if Geralt and Jaskier had been any closer, their heads would have all knocked together. Instead, Ciri panted for breath, eyebrows knitting together as she glanced at each of them.

“Ciri!” Jaskier’s voice was oddly strained. “So glad you’re okay,” he pressed a quick kiss to Ciri’s cheek, now right in front of him, and then he pulled back and fled the room.

Geralt blinked after him.

“What–?” Ciri’s breathing was returning to normal, and she twisted to look at Geralt with utter confusion.

He shrugged. “How are you feeling? Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Just a dream. You haven’t been sitting here this whole time, have you?”

When he didn’t answer, she huffed. “Geralt, you need your own rest! Go bathe and then sleep!” Ciri ordered, pointing at the door. The firmness in her voice made it clear that she expected to be obeyed, so Geralt rose with a chuckle.

“Only if you do too,” he bargained and she rolled her eyes.

“I’m fine, but I’ll sleep anyway, ‘cause I’m tired. Now go.” She crossed her arms and stared him down until Geralt edged towards the door.

A bath wasn’t a bad idea, actually. And now that he knew Ciri was okay – with that attitude, she was clearly back to normal – he could rest easy.

Or so he thought. Instead, Geralt tossed and turned all night, wondering if Jaskier really had been about to kiss him. Had he imagined the whole thing?

Next Part

#my fics #geraskier #5+1 #fluff #pining #geralt of rivia #jaskier #the witcher #fic #writing

[talpup]

Lost Song:12

Summary: The war between the Dragons and Griffons ended 233 years ago, and both races right along with it.

Or so it was believed. There are three individuals that will soon change that.

Kai is the last of the Dragons and he seeks to take what he sees as his rightful place and rule over all of Oblvi. Meanwhile, Shouta, the last Sphinx, wants nothing more than to do his job; keep the peace and and teach the young Fourth’s to hopefully avoid the mistakes of their ancestors. And Teris, a Foundling who is just trying to understand and survive in this strange new world that is supposedly her own.

All three have their own wants and desires, but Kai’s plans, Teris’ existence, and Shouta's past mean that none of them may get what they want.

This fic is rated explicit and has warnings of sex, violence, and other possible triggers.  For a full list of story tags please check the fics AO3 (link to that at the top of my tumblrs homepage).

12.1

Kai exited a side door and met up with Hari.  Whiffs of smoke blew from the Dragon’s nostrils at the memory of Teris and Shouta's arms brushing while the two stood side by side, the Sphinx regularly moving to shield Teris from his view.  Teris might be part of Shouta's Ilca.  But she was his.   And yet Shouta had managed to keep her by him the entire gathering.

He had no doubt Shouta had given Teris that dull, disgusting bracelet. The thing wasn’t even worthy of being on some detestable mutt Hybrid like Nedzu.  It certainly didn’t belong on a proud, pure blood Beast like Teris.

Kai swore that if he hadn’t killed the Sphinx by the time he reclaimed his throne.  The first order of his reign would be to end Aizawa, finally do away with all Sphinx kind.

The only thing that had gotten Kai through the trying afternoon was imagining what he would do to Teris this evening after Ryuu left.  He imagined her pretty lips wrapped around his cock.  Making her look at him as he fucked her sweet face.  She had done well in combating Shouta's attempt at keeping her from agreeing to dinner.  But she had stayed by Shouta's side.  Had accepted Aizawa's gift and worn it.  For that she would be punished. And Kai could think of no better punishment than having her choke on his cock.  It wasn’t as if he could punish her more directly.  At least not yet.  Though the thought of spanking her ass raw and fucking her from behind while she screamed his name and cried out in apology was something he looked forward to doing when things progressed.

“Did you find out who was doing the inspection?”  Kai questioned.

Uneasy as he was, Hari bravely met Kai’s eyes.  “We did our best.”

“And was your best good enough?”  Kai asked, knowing if it had been Hari would've answered with a name.

Hari swallowed and shook his head.  “No, Sir.  I’m sorry and take full responsibility for the failure--”

Kai’s hand wrapped around the Arepyiai’s throat cutting off his words and air supply.  “You’re damned right you’ll take full responsibility.  I left it to you to see the Ilca learned who was doing Teris’ inspection. Yet you’re telling me you’ve failed.  That out of my nine Ilca members no one was able to discover a simple name?”

Hari gurgled, but to his credit didn’t attempt to fight off Kai’s choking grip.

The Dragon’s eyes slitted.  Gold scales appeared along the back of his hand.  Nails lengthened into deadly talons that pierced Hari’s skin.  “How am I suppose to threaten or buy a person off if I don’t know who they are?  Do you like the idea of my future mate being subjected to some filthy Fourth's roving gaze?  Maybe you’d prefer Teris undress and walk the grounds of Traverseen Hall for all to see?”

Hari shook his head as best he could.

“What part of mine do you not understand?  Teris is mine. No one should be allowed to look upon her but me.  And yet because of your failure--”  Sensing someones eyes on him, Kai turned.

Hizashi sucked in a breath, emerald eyes widening further. He had been waiting out in the garden for Oboro to return.  The Venti said he had a gift for him.  Hizashi hadn’t meant to listen in.  In fact he hadn’t heard anything.

Teris had said Kai was kind and gentle.  But what Hizashi saw was far gentle and kind.  He stupidly ducked behind a shrub as if he and the Dragon hadn’t already locked eyes.  He had wondered why Shouta didn’t like Kai. The Sphinx always admonishing Teris on what time she was to return from lessons with Kai; as if she were some child with a curfew.  Was this why?  Because Shouta knew Kai was violent and harsh?

Kai’s eyes returned to human.  The scales on his hand disappeared.  Talons shrinking back to nails.

Releasing Hari, Kai took out a handkerchief and he wiped his hand clean. “Return to the dorm.  I’ll deal with you later.”

“Yes, Sir.”  Hari nodded.

“And Hari.”  Kai called.

Hari turned back.

“Set another place for dinner.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Cursing his lack of care, Kai made his way to the distant shrub. “Hizashi.  Isn’t it?”

Hizashi’s eyes squeezed shut.  Where was Oboro?  He sheepishly stepped out from behind the bush. “Yeah.  And you’re Kai, right?  The one tasked with instructing Teris.”

“Teris makes it more of a pleasure than a task.” Kai said, wondering what if anything the Hybrid overheard.

Hizashi's eyes darted about looking for someone to come to his aid.  He was usually great with meeting new people.  But after what he saw...

“About what you heard--”

“I didn’t hear anything.”  Hizashi said.

Relieved, Kai went on.  “Well, I’m sorry you had to see that.  I tend to take sterner measures when the protection of a ladies virtue is at stake.”

Hizashi's lowered ears lifted and twitched.  “A ladies virtue?”

“You don’t think I go around treating my Ilca so cruelly all the time do you?  What has Teris been telling you about me?”

“No, no!” Hizashi shook his head.  He laughed, relieved.  Though still unsettled, it gave reason to what he saw.  “Teris speaks rather highly of you.”

A low hummed sounded in Kai’s throat, such things always nice to hear.  “You wouldn’t happen to know who ‘s doing her inspection.  Would you?”

Hizashi frowned and shook his head.  He didn’t know what Teris’ interview and inspection would entail.  But the words coupled with Shouta's darkening mood as today drew near told him it wouldn’t be pleasant.  “I wish she didn’t have to go through it.  It’s all because they can tell she’s some pure blooded beast from an ancient species.  If she were a Hybrid like me and had some telling marker in her human form.  Like my ears.  Maybe they would have some idea what she was and wouldn’t have to go through it.”

Kai’s lips tightened a fraction.  The thought of the dirty Hybrid feeling sorry for Teris and wishing such a disgusting disgrace of mixed blood on her was an insult. “I’m hosting a dinner for her this evening.  Hopefully it will help take her mind off today's ordeal.”

“That—that sounds really nice.”  Hizashi said, wishing he’d thought of it. Maybe Kai wasn’t so bad.

“I’d like for you to come.  I know Teris thinks you a close friend and having you there would undoubtedly make her happy.”

Hizashi brightened.  “Is Shouta going?”

Kai paused but was able to keep his irritation with Hizashi and hate for Shouta from showing.  “The aim is to lighten Teris’ spirits and make her happy.  Do you think his presence would aid in that?”

Hizashi's smile fell.  It would if the two quit being so stubborn and admitted their feelings for each other, he thought. But as things currently stood, Kai had a point.  “Do you like her?”

“That’s a rather personal question.”  Kai replied.

“She’s my friend.”

“Which is why I would like us to get to know each other.”  Kai said.

“So you do like her.”  Hizashi said.

Kai wasn’t about to belittle his feelings to something as juvenile as like.  Nor was he willing to tell Hizashi his plans to Bond with Teris; fully aware the Hybrid would tell her and Teris wasn’t ready to hear it.  Instead, Kai said.  “I want to see Teris happy and think she deserves the best, same as you.  More than that I can and will give her those things and more.”

Hizashi wasn’t sure how he felt about Kai liking Teris.  Sure he had suspected it.  And with the way Teris talked, he could tell she had a bit of a crush on Kai in return.  But he had seen Teris and Shouta together.  They could be so perfect if only they stopped being so stupid.  Still, it was Teris’ life.  If she chose to be with Kai either for friendly release or as a companion, Hizashi would support her.  So long as Kai was a good guy.  And accepting Kai’s invitation to dinner was just  the chance Hizashi needed to decide if Kai was a good guy.

Thinking a short apology to Shouta, Hizashi smiled. “Thanks for the invite.  I’d love to go.”

“Good. I’ll see you and Teris at six.”  Kai turned away, pleased with the exchange.  Distasteful as it would be having a filthy Hybrid in his Ilca dorm, he was well aware what Hizashi meant to Teris. Winning Hizashi over would only help speed Teris’ sense of ease and comfort which would quicken her acceptance of their eventually mating.

12.2

Shouta glanced at the window gauging the passage of time.  It had been nearly an hour but Teris’ interview felt like it had gone on much longer.  Seated beside her, Shouta hoped the questioning was near its end.  That was until he remembered what awaited her after.  Sharp eyes looked over the five visiting Council Elders seated at the table before them.  He wondered which Elder would be doing Teris’ inspection.  Much as he hoped it would be His Purple Highness, Shouta wasn’t holding his breath.  He was never that lucky.

Along with the five visiting Council members was Elder Yagi.  Also a member of the Council, the Talos was acting more as host for these proceedings than anything else.  At the end of the long table was Director Nedzu and Arbitrator Todoroki Enji, who were there more as witnesses to the interview and hadn’t said a word unless direct questions were asked of them.

Facing the line of Council members felt more like facing a firing squad. Though few questions were asked of him, Shouta couldn’t shake the invading memories of his own interview.  The fear his younger self had felt got the best of him twice already.  Making his heart hammer till the rush of blood drummed in his ears drowning everything else out.

“Tell us, Aizawa.  Has Teris shown any hinting of her true form?  Scales? Feathers?  Fur?”  Destro asked.

“No.” Shouta lied without pause or regret.

“Why don’t you speak plainly and just ask if she’s shown sign of being a Griffon, Dragon, or Sphinx?”  Ryuko asked the Basilisk.

Eyes on Shouta, Destro prodded.  “Well?  Has she?”

“No.” Shouta said.

“Having once served the Dragons and raised one myself.  I can say with certainty that our young Foundling here is not a Dragon.”  Ryuu said.

“Nor is she a Sphinx.”  His Purple Highness put in.

“And what about a Griffon?”  Destro questioned.

Shouta’s fingers twitched, eyes on some distant detail in apparent disinterest.

His Purple Highness looked at Destro. The Basilisk’s might’ve served the Dragons during the Dragon-Griffon war.  But Destro had become leader of the species after the Fall of Crowns.  Whether it was because Destro had been leader for only 233yrs and felt the need to prove himself. Or because the Basilisk truly held such beliefs. Destro had been the most vocal Council member when Shouta and Kai faced the Elders. He vehemently argued the then young Sphinx and Dragon should be put to death for the sake of continued peace.

“The Griffon’s are dead.  A lost species.”  Mera said, wishing for the interview to end so he could go to his rooms and sleep.

“So were the Sphinx's and Dragons until Ryuu and His Purple Highness found and saw different.”  Ryuko said.  The Amphiteres might’ve served the Dragons during the war.  But Ryuko liked to think she and her species had lost their servant mental to the Dragons; while holding no animosity against Kai for his species past deeds.  “What’s to say Elder Yagi hasn’t done the same?”

Yagi coughed.  The Talos’ long ago injury that was slowly killing him making him cough blood into a handkerchief.

“May I remind you, Yagi didn’t find Teris.  She was found in earth and brought to Oblvi by a Derrick.  You can hardly fault Yagi for that.  Or did you young ones forget Traverseen Hall was build near one of the only two physical gateways connecting Oblvi to earth?” His Purple Highness asked.

Ryuko didn’t mind being called a young one. When one had lived as long as His Purple Highness, everyone was young.  Still, she didn’t like her intelligence being called into question.  “I’m aware.”

“So why question if Yagi’s done the same?  Surely you’re aware any Foundlings or issues coming through either gateway are handled by the area Elder.  Yagi just happened be unfortunate Teris was brought through the gateway here. It’s not as if he didn’t inform the rest of us immediately.” His Purple Highness said.

“Unlike some.”  Destro remarked.

“I informed the Council of my finding Shouta as soon as I was able.” The Dryad King said.

“After you unspelled him.”  Destro said.

“I’m flattered you think my physique strong enough to carry a stoned Sphinx through an untamed forest and back home.”  His Purple Highness sarcastically flirted.  “It’s not as if I secretly hatched a Dragon egg and raised the youngling for several years before informing the other Elders.”

Ryuu frowned at the Dryad.  “Your species served the Griffons during the war.”

“And yours served the Dragons.  Save for the Sphinx's, there isn’t a species of Fourth that wasn’t guilty of choosing a side.  And every single one of us here helped hunt the Sphinx's down for it during the war.” His Purple Highness said.

“Is that why you unspelled the Sphinx?  Out of some sense of guilt?” Destro asked.

“This is an interview about the Foundling.  Can we please stay on target and get this over with?”  Mera murmured, tired eyes slipping closed.

Looking at His Purple Highness, Ryuu went on. “You were quite high up the ranks, if I remember. A close and trusted friend of the Griffon King.”

“That was a long time ago.”  His Purple Highness said.

“But surely you remember well enough what the Griffon species smells like. All we’re looking for is some assurance Teris isn’t one.”  Ryuu said.

Shouta's eyes lifted to his mentor.  Air catching in his lungs he force himself to breathe.

Everyone at the long table, seated across from Shouta and Teris, turned to the Dryad King.  Destro and Ryuu leaned forward to get a better look at the Fourth.

His Purple Highness stared at Ryuu.  There was a toying glint in the Tengu’s challenging gaze.  With a blink His Purple Highness realized Ryuu somehow knew Teris was a Griffon.  How?  And why wasn’t he outing her?  Was Ryuu setting him up to deny Teris was Griffon in attempt to claim he was a sympathizer to the fallen crowns and traitor to the Council?

“Well?” Mera pressed, eager to be done.

“Teris’ hereditary scent smells like no Griffon I’ve ever smelled.”  His Purple Highness truthfully said.

Ryuu’s shimmering eyes smiled at the Dryad King.  His Purple Highness expected a follow up question to try and ensnare him.

Instead Ryuu blocked further questions before anyone could ask them. “Well, I’m satisfied.  If no one has anything further?  Good.”

Mera was already standing and gathering his papers.  “In that case. We’re done.  Director Nedzu, thank you for the use of the room. Thank you everyone for your time.”

“And her inspection?”  Destro looked after the already departing Mera.

“Happening in the next room over.”  Mera said with wave and a yawn.

Mera gone, Ryuko looked at the fellow Elders. “So who’s doing it?”

Shouta's shoulders sunk.  There went his hope Teris would be inspected by the sole woman in the group.

Teris was so relieved the interview was over she didn’t hear the name of the Fourth inspecting her.  She felt Shouta tense beside her.

Lips hidden by his capture weapon, Shouta attempted to assure the both of them. “It’ll be alright.”

Teris barely heard Shouta’s murmur.  His deep timber a comforting balm while his words set her back on edge.  What had she missed?  Who was doing the inspection?

Getting to his feet, Shouta turned and held a hand out to her. “Just keep the bracelet on.  Understand?”

Teris nodded.  Her eyes lowered to Shouta's upturned hand.

For a second Shouta thought she wouldn’t take it.  He silently cursed himself for the unthought action.  But then Teris’ warm hand nestled in his. Shouta's nerves ignited in delight. His fingers curled around hers.  He pulled her to her feet and didn’t let go.  Turning around he led her out the room and down the hall to the next door.

Teris rushed to keep up with Shouta's longer stride.  Grateful when he stopped, she faced him, breathing hard.

“Out of breath from a short trek.  We should train more.”  Shouta murmured.

Teris weakling tried to pulled her hand out of his. “I know you’re an ass.  But you’re just saying that to irk and take my mind off things.”

“Is it working?”

“No.”

Shouta stepped to her, hand letting go of hers to wrap around her waist. “How about now?”

Teris’ face heated.  The Sphinx wasn’t playing fair.  “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” Shouta hummed.

Teris shivered, feeling the deep vibration of his chest.

Shouta's other hand slinked up her arm.  “Should I up my game?”

“Are you capable of it?”

Shouta chuckled, lowly. “Oh, Kitten.  I’m getting up right now.”

He held her tighter.  His hardening length prodding her pelvis.  Teris sucked in a breath.  Her legs squeezed together, hips dancing.

Shouta bit back a groan.  There had been something he wanted to tell her. Something important.  But he couldn’t think with her rubbing against him.  The smell and warmth of her overwhelmed in the best of ways, drowning everything else out.  “Keep the bracelet on.”

“You already said that.”  Teris breathed.

Shouta swallowed, trying to remember what he wanted to say.  His head began to dip, eyes focused on her tantalizing lips. Teris’ head lifted, tilting ever so slightly.

The door behind her opened.  Shouta's head jerked up. Teris turned.  Eyes widening, she pressed back into Shouta.

Remembering what he wanted to say Shouta whispered into the back of her head. “Whatever the reason, if it becomes too much.  Leave. I’ll be waiting out here and will deal with whatever may come.”

Teris looked back at him.  She knew Shouta, like Kai, was watched by the Council.  But until today she hadn’t realized the Council's goodwill still determined their continued existence.  If Shouta went against the Council…

“Are you ready?”  A male voice asked.

Shouta looked at the man, fighting a low growl.  How the hell was the Anzu preforming the inspection?  He wasn’t an Elder.  He merely worked for the Council.

Straightening her back, Teris turned and met Hawks’ gold eyes.  Shouta felt a wave a pride at the way she fearlessly faced the Anzu.

Hawks watched Teris step to him. Holding her breath, she passed him and entered the room.  Hawks’ eyes flicked to Shouta.  He smiled at the Sphinx.  Shouta's lip twitched, battling a snarl.  The Anzu cocked his head at Shouta's unaffected stare.

“Feel free to go about your day.  This may take a while. I plan on being exceedingly thorough.” Hawks goaded.

Shouta's hands balled into fists in his pockets.  Claws formed and embedded in his palms.

Hawks’ eyes narrowed a fraction at the non-reaction.  He smiled crookedly and shrugged. “Or stay and use your imagination.”

It took every ounce of restraint Shouta had not to bust down the door as soon as it snapped shut.  The Elders exited the interview room drawing his attention.

While the others filed off in the opposite direction, His Purple Highness made his was to Shouta.

The tension in Shouta's shoulders eased. Annoying as His Purple Highness could be, the Dryad had been something of a parental figure.  Well, more like the embarrassing Uncle that made open innuendos in polite conversation and forgot children were around.  Still, His Purple Highness had done more than unspell him and argue for his life.  He had given Shouta a home.  The beginnings of a new pack to help ease the pain of the one he’d lost.

The Dryad King smiled warmly. “That interview couldn’t have been easy for you.  You did well.”

“It was Teris’ interview.”  Shouta said.

“She did well too.”

“She did.”  Shouta agreed.

“You should tell her.”

“Tell her what?”

“That she did well.”  His Purple Highness said.

Thinking the too proud Griffon likely thought she did well in everything she did, Shouta huffed.  “She already knows.”

As he spoke, the Dryad added, voice mixing with the Sphinx.  “And that you love her.”

Shouta looked at the Fourth and blinked.  “What?”

“What?” His Purple Highness echoed.

Shouta's eyes narrowed at the Dryad’s overly innocent expression.

Certain Shouta had heard him, His Purple Highness went on.  “Still, her interview had to have brought back memories of your own.”

“Maybe a bit.”  Shouta begrudgingly admitted.

“I remember the day I found you hidden in a crevice deep inside that mountain cave.”  His Purple Highness didn’t speak of the cave-ins, rubble, or multiple bones that had once been Shouta's home and pack.  “Curled up and put to stone, you looked so tiny and helpless.  It was clear you had been spelled not just for protection, but out of a great love and sense of hope. Even being put in hibernation during what had surely been a terrifying time, you looked peaceful holding that--”

Shouta's eyebrows furrowed.  He had been holding something?  What?  He didn’t remember holding anything.

His Purple Highness chuckled, trying to cover and divert from the slip. He would tell Shouta about and give him the Griffon feather he’d found him with.  But not now.  It was far too dangerous for both Shouta and Teris.  “You were a dirty mess but still one of the most beautiful and precious things I’ve seen in my life.”

Shouta’s scowled with an embarrassed blush.  He ducked into his capture weapon trying to hide his flushed cheeks.  Grateful his hair covered his warming ears.

“You’re getting sentimental in your old age.”   Shouta muttered dryly.

“Deciding what to do with you was one of the hardest and easiest things I’ve done in my existence.”  Thinking again of Teris’ feather clutched in Shouta's small hand, His Purple Highness said.  “As soon as I unspelled you I thought I’d regret it.  But I never did.  Not even when faced with the fear and anger of my fellow Council Elders.  Even now, after everything. I don’t regret it.”

“You mean after I’ve grown into a gruff grouch?”  Shouta said with a toothy smile most found creepy.

“Well… Now that you mention it…”

The two chuckled.  Shouta's low and short.  His Purple Highness’ light and long.

“I’m almost sorry you’re leaving tomorrow.”  Shouta said.

“Well, now that you mention it.”  The Dryad grinned.

Shouta's expression darkened. “I said almost.”

“A King has duties to his people, Shouta.  There’s a Harvest Moon tomorrow.”

Shouta cursed.  With everything going on, he’d forgotten.

Oblvi had four Harvest Moons a year.  One for each season.  While most species only celebrated one Harvest Moon.  Many elementals and species carrying a tie to the land celebrated all four.  The fall Harvest Moon would be celebrated with bonfires and dancing.  And of course release.

Many revelers would attend in their true form.  It’s why humans took to wearing masks on the day.  To appear like the ‘evil spirits’ they saw and not be set upon.  But that was a long time ago.  Thankfully travel to earth was now limited and illegal without proper pass. Though their were occasionally those that snuck through.

“You should come.  You could use some fun.”  His Purple Highness said.

“Walking around a forest full of loud, excited Fourth's is hardly what I call fun.”  Shouta remarked.

“Hizashi is half High Elf.”

Shouta cursed again.  High Elf’s were connected to the land.  Of course Hizashi would want to and should participate.  The celebration was more than just a festival. It had a physical effect on the Fourth's linked to nature.

“Teris should attend too.”  His Purple Highness said.

“No.” Shouta's heckles rose at the thought of Teris accepting some revelers invitation to participate in the orgy known as the Sowing.

“I understand that Kai is instructing her.  But as her Ilca leader you should be taking part in her learning.”

Shouta's lip twitched, biting back a snarl.  Mind still on the Sowing, he imagined all the ways Kai was instructing her.  It certainly didn’t help that Teris had returned yesterday smelling of sex and Kai.

“Bring your Ilca and just attend for the tamer beginning festivities.” His Purple Highness said. “Think of it as a lesson for Teris, and way to support Hizashi.”

Though he had denied His Purple Highness in the past, Shouta didn’t like to.  He owed the Dryad.  Even now His Purple Highness looked out for him.  The least he could do was suffer an hour or two at the Harvest Moon Festival.

“Fine.” Shouta growled.

12.3

“Alone again.”  Hawks smiled, seductively.

Trying to hide her unease Teris blustered.  “If you kiss me again I’ll kill you.”

“I’m hurt.  Like that lip you bit when I kissed you.  I’m nothing if not professional, Teris.  Now undress.”

“What!” Teris shrunk back clutching the neck of her tank top.  She wished she’d worn more covering clothes.

“It’s an inspection.  What’d you think I’d be looking over?  Your resume?”

Teris swallowed.  Her show of fear was giving him too much power.  The Anzu’s toying smile and dancing eyes told of his enjoyment at her discomfort.  Lowering her hand she met his shimmering gold eyes.

Hawks’ eyes narrowed.  Anger and distress often caused a small show of a Fourth's true form.  It’s probably why the Council Leader decided he would perform Teris’ inspection.  Because he was good at playing with emotions and getting under peoples skin.  But if Teris was going to bury her unease thus denying the opportunity of some display of her true form, then he had no other choice but to go through with the inspection.  Not that he minded.

Teris looked Hawks over in judging distaste.  “So are the Anzu some newly recognized species?  I thought Hybrid’s were the only ones incapable of perfect human form.”

“Wow! Do you speak to Hizashi with that mouth?”

Teris grimaced.  She really didn’t care.  But given how much Kai made of it, thought it would be a sore spot to needle Hawks with.

“My species is a new old.”  Hawks said, conversationally.

“A what?”

“Not new.  Not old.  And definitely not ancient.  The wings and eye markings a show.”  Hawks said of himself.

“Show of what?”  Teris asked.

“You can put on that robe.”  Hawks nodded to a covering hanging off the back of a chair.

“Show of what?”  Teris pressed.

“Do you really wanna draw this out?  Aizawa’s probably stayed standing outside.  Waiting.  Wondering.”

Teris lifted her chin.  “I just want my question answered.  Show of what?”

Hawks smirked.  Proud.  Stubborn.  Entitled.  He ticked the traits off in his head for later scrutiny.  “Undress.”

“Turn around.”

Hawks’ smile grew.  “I’m nothing if not a gentleman.”

Teris huffed.  Hawks slowly turned away.  She took a tentative step to the chair.  Hawks looked over his shoulder making Teris pause.

“Just don’t go stabbing me in the back.”

“I’ll do more than that if you look back again.”  Teris snarled.

“Ooo. Promise!”  Hawks enthused.  His wings opened and lifted creating a sort of screen between them that put Teris at ease.

Teris pulled off the tank top and hastily put on the robe.  Her skin prickled at the touch of the cool silken fabric.  It was shorter than she would've liked.  Coming to just above her mid-thigh.  But at least she wasn’t left in just her underwear.  Not trusting Hawks, Teris turned away undoing her belt and pants.

Red feathers parted ever so slightly, a single gold eye peeking through. Hawks observed Teris’ movements more than her undressing.  There were moments where she was fluid and graceful; like a cat.  And others that reminded him of himself when agitated; quick and staccato.  Bird like.

Back turned to the Anzu, Teris bent and pulled off her pants. Straightening, she felt a presence behind her and spun around.  When had Hawks moved?

“Shall we begin?”  Before Teris could respond, Hawks dropped into a squat in front of her.

Suddenly Hawks wrapped a hand around the back of her ankle and lifted her leg. Teris squeaked.  Her body jerked, toes curling.  Arms stretched out trying to help balance.  She wobbled for a second but quickly steadied herself.

Hawks noted her reactive timing.  And how she didn’t need the nearby chair.  Though there was still no physical display of her true form.

“What the hell!”  Teris squawked.

Interesting. While most voices took on a higher pitch when startled.  There was a melodic chirp to Teris’ voice.

“Just checking your reflexes.”  Hawks sung, Teris’ chirp bringing out the beastly bird in him.  He set down her leg, hand and eyes running up the smooth flesh.

Teris shivered at the touch.  When he got to her mid-thigh she stepped away.

Hawks met her glare with a smile.  “I guess it would be rude to go any further without first buying you dinner.  Other than Kai have you sought release with anyone else?”

“I’ve already done my interview.”

“So that’s a no.”  Hawks declared.  He got to his feet.  “Since I’m staying on at Traverseen Hall for a while.  Feel free to seek me out if you tire of Kai.  Or just want some variety.”

“That’s never gonna happen.”

“I make it a point to never say never.  Extend your arm.”

Teris did so.  Allowing Hawks to push the sleeve of her robe up.  He rotated her arm, hand and eyes examining the same way he had her leg. His fingers skimmed over the bracelet Shouta had given her.  Teris tensed.

Hawks’ eyes narrowed and lifted taking in every minute expression.  His fingers trailed down her palm, opening up her hand.  Head lowering to the pulse point of her wrist, he breathed deeply.  Her hereditary scent was definitely less distinct than it had been yesterday.  And there was a muddled something to it that hadn’t been there before.

While it didn’t matter to him since he’d been unable to recognize her species scent.  He wondered if any of the Council Elders would've been able to tell what she was if not for the obscuring difference.

His eyes focused on the bracelet she wore.  The bracelet that hadn’t been on her wrist yesterday when her species scent was clear and distinctive.  He wondered who gave it to her.  Aizawa was the obvious choice since she hadn’t had it when she’d come from Kai, smelling of sex and the Dragon.  Why would Kai want to muddle her species scent anyway?  Then again, why would Shouta?

A talon sprung from his nail-bed, pricking the pad of Teris’ finger. Teris’ hand jerked back.  She licked the small puncture.  Hawks marked her treatment of the wound.  The list of possible species she could be narrowed by small degrees.

“Take off the robe.”

Teris bared her teethed.  “No.”

Hawks met her challenging glare with a mask of stern command.

“Why’d you give me the thing if you were gonna make me take it off?” Teris asked.  “Trying to lure me into false comfort?  Or do you just like toying with people?”

Like toying with people?  Hawks thought.  No.  But I’m good at it. Trained at it.  Along with a host of other things.  Hawks’ mask of determination melted into one of mock sympathy.  “What the Council giveth the Council can easily taketh away.”

Teris’ eyes widened thinking of Shouta and Kai’s lives.  At Hawks’ smirk, her expression hardened.  “You’re not the Council.”

“You’re right.  But I am working for them.  We all must obey and dance to the Council's tune if we wish to keep our lives and freedom.  Now take off the robe.”

Teris paused.  Caught between fearful compliance and proud defiance.

Seeing her hesitance, Hawks took pity and cajoled.  “I told you.  I’m nothing if not professional.”

“You’ve been far from professional.”

“It’s just a job, Little Bird.”

“Names like that make it seem more than a job.”  Teris glared.

“Have you never enjoyed a job?”  Hawks questioned.  He both hated and loved this one.  Teris was fun.  The puzzle of figuring out what she was a unique challenge.  Only trouble he had with the task was Teris was new to this world.  She wasn’t like the others he’d spied on and lured into traps in the past.  She was truly innocent and unprepared for the ways Oblvi worked and was run.  And he had to pray on that innocence to get his answers.

It’s just a job, Hawks comforted himself.  If he didn’t do it the Council Leader would send someone else, and he’d be ruined.  Never mind what his Secret Boss who ordered him to watch Teris would do.

Suddenly Hawks was in her face.  Teris pulled her head back only to have Hawks grab under her jaw, fingers pinching in her cheeks.  He pulled her forward.  Their noses almost touching.  Hawks’ eyes darted over her face.  His hair tickled her forehead.

Teris’ breath caught in her throat.  Her eyes widened, unfocusing.  The action was reminiscent of the way the scarred man use to grab and examine her, spitting terrifying words in her face.

Hawks’ wings sagged.  No sign of her true form.  Releasing her, he stepped back.  “Robe off.  Now.”

Heart hammering in her chest Teris untied the fabric belt with trembling hands.  She tried to steady her breathing, telling herself the scarred man wasn’t here.  He and his blue flames couldn’t hurt her.

The robe slipped from her shoulders.  Hawks watched it puddled on the floor at her feet.  Taking a fortifying breath, he schooled his features and lifted his eyes.  Teris’ hips turned to the side.  She crossed her arms shielding her bra covered breasts.  The action squeezed her tits together enhancing her enticing cleavage.

Stay on target, Hawks told himself.  This is a job.  Not a pleasure. Yeah, but with a sight like that it kinda makes it a bit of both, he argued with himself.  She doesn’t want you and there’s a Sphinx waiting outside that’ll tear you apart if you step out of line, he reminded.

Hawks slowly circled her.  Booted feet deafening in the silence.  Teris shivered.  Though she couldn’t say if it was from the chill or Hawks’ roving gaze.  She felt him stop behind her and bit her lip, fighting the urge to look back at him.

Fingers plucked the waistband of her panties.  Teris spun around.

“Just checking for a tail.”  Hawks smiled, crookedly.  His eyes sharpened.  Still no sign of her true form.

“Are we done?”

“Almost. Just wanna try one more thing.”

“Try for what?”  Teris scowled.  She yelped and turned, something tickling the back of her leg.  It was one of Hawks’ feathers.

Hawks stepped to her.  With a practiced snap of the bra strap he had her bra unhooked.

One arm clutched to her chest, Teris spun back around, other hand lifted. Hawks had but a moment to see the mild display.  But a moment was all he needed.  In place of peach fuzz there were tiny quills gracing Teris’ cheeks.

Her hand connected.  The slap sharp and loud.  Hawks’ head wrenched to the side.  He held his throbbing cheek.  The stinging skin hot under the palm of his hand.

Teris bent, free hand grabbing the robe.  She grasped the fabric to her. “Out!  This so called inspection is finished.  We’re done.”

Feather re-attaching to his wing, Hawks turned to the door.  The inspection might be done.  But he was far from finished.

***This fic will have a LOT more world building than my others.  Please feel free to comment or send me an ask if you have any questions.

Thank you to those who have left hearts. And a special thank you to those who have left comments and/or reblogged. They really mean a lot.

Special thank you to @inorganicone2230 who knows of my love for the mythic and encouraged me to start this fic without stressing about the other two I’ve got going.  Your friendship means the world to me.

#aizawa shouta #kai chisaki #yamada hizashi #His Purple Highness #bnha #lost song

[noythe]

If a thing loves, it is infinte

A small story that I wanted to rewrite, to honor the mighty Vergil and his son. Reader is the mother of Nero.

Originally posted on Ao3, hopefully it is not too awkward. 

Pairing: Vergil/Reader

Warning/Tags: Canon-Typical Violence, Torture, Slow-Burn, Awkward-Romance, Lots of Angst and Fluff

Chapter 1 Hell on Earth

There once was a man, feared and respected. Loved and hated just the same.

There was life and death, pain and happiness.

But despite every terror there was on the mortal world, there was some unholy powers, trying to rule.

But what should be ruled, if there was no one left?

There was a group of Hunters, known and led by the famous son of Sparda, Dante.

The Devil May Cry.

But what of the Legends if they go mising?

Heaven, Earth and Hell, what would be the missing piece in this chaotic mess?

The world was a mess.

Where once had been peace and the wonder of creation, was only despair and terror now. Angaelic beings have watched over the mortal realm long enough. Demons only caused chaos, destruction and pain. All they cared for was ruling the world only causing despair. No matter how often humanity had been at the brink of utter destruction, there always was someone to take a stand. One of the most honorable ones had been the Dark Knight Sparda. Had he once been the right hand of Mundus - the king of the underworld - he realised that justice needed to be brought to the world and rebelled against his king, defeating his army and sealing him away along with his own power, leaving him on the human world.

To take revenge upon Sparda, the Demon King ordered his loyal monsters to elimnate Spardas family, murdering his kin. During this attack, his mortal wife Eva got killed, the twins she had born and raised for a few years survived but lived through the trauma differently. And neither of them had a pleasant memory of it. Just loosing everything. Home and family. Years have passed and while one of the brothers became a danger for the world always seeking for more power, the younger twin became a hunter - later creating Devil May Cry.

Hunting Demons and fighting his brother over and over again that was something that never changed, no matter how many years passed. But of course even this time peace didn't last forever.

And again the world needed someone to save it. And one of them was Dante, the now legendary Hunter. Earning  himself quite a name over the past decades as a proud Son of Sparda, wielding the Rebellion and mastering many weapons over the decades. A new demon King alone would have been not a big deal, not for Dante if there wouldn't be that gruesome Demon Tree, now taking a hold of Red GraveCity. Emerging from the ground, raising high into the sky and slowly taking his childhood home apart. Dante did not take this job alone. By his side were Trish and Lady, the most dangerous Women the world had seen so far. If there was someone out there to cut the tree down, it would be them.

But for once, the Son of Sparda went missing.

And that murderous tree was still standing, sucking the blood out of the humans living in that city and as much as the military tried to protect the mortals of Red Grave, their strength was far from enough. And whatever manged to survive the roots, probably got devoured by demons or killed by debris and everything that got thrown around. But if the Qlipoth would collect enough blood, it would grow a single fruit that was forbidden and powerful. Fullfilling the true desire of Urizen: Endless Power, making him the new true King over the Underwold. But also it was rare. Only once every thousand years it could grow.

Over two thousand years ago it had been harvested by Mundus, and the tragedy that followed then lead to this day. But without the Devil Hunter, how should they prevent the tragedy to repeat itself? Maybe mankind never learned from it's mistakes... But for the divine and cursed, there was no such rule. As they remembered it all. Stored in ancient tomes and memory, never to be forgotten. Always to be told, even if mortals no longercared, They forgot so fast, life always passing by in a blink.

But not everything was lost. It was just a matter of time and perhaps a young Devil Hunter needed, who was desperate to beat the Demon on his stupid throne, polishing his ugly face. One failure was enough for the kid named Nero. Even after being called a 'Dead-Weight' he tried to help those that couldn't protect themselves, but for that he had to get stronger first. Recover. He was not all alone, yet it might took a little longer than he wanted to, knowing that this was not his final goal. He wanted Urizen. But after loosing his right arm, there was a lot for him to get used to.

And while the impulsive boy cursed Nico and her way to drive that van, the annoying screeching of a bird echoed through destroyed buildings over broken streets and people turned to dust.

"Ey, V! Ey, EY! Are you listening?", Griffon complained, landing on a broken door that was about to break in, caused by the weight of the monster bird. "Of course.", the thud of a closing book followed and the slender man moved into the direction of the bird, accompanied by the constant sound of his silvery cane, hitting the ground to support his steps.

"There's so much pollen here, I might be starting to be allergic!", the bird continued loudly and faked a sneeze.

"But as long as there might be a chance to find someone who is alive, we can buy the boy more time." "Time, time, time. Always the same chatter, You gotta move! Maybe we should get a vacuum. Ey V, can ya use one if I find one? Nah..Whatever.  No time for that, r-rrrright? ", the annoying voice askeed and distanced itself from V, the door finally breaking down as he left his fomer spot and revealing another room that was abandoned and covered in dust and pollen, the remainings of a couple was laying on a bed, their bodies curled around each other, trying to comfort themselves in their very last moments. V just silently passed the room, watching the pair dissolve into a cloud of pollen. It was all Urizens fault. So many lost souls, innocent humans forever gone, who would remember them? For a while it was all quiet and calm - until there was Griffons voice once more.

"Yo! V! You gotta see this!" Silence. "Seriously! I think someone's alive!" That actually made him hurry at least a bit. V knew that he certainly wasn't in shape to run around like the boy Nero. It actually took him long enough, that Griffon met him halfway, urging him to move faster. "Hurry, Shakespeare." The building was too fragile to bust through walls, the risk to injure or kill whoever survived was simply too high and V was on a 'Be-Nice-Trip'. Perhaps they couldn't save everyone, but every single soul that survived, was one less to feed the Qlipoth, even if he was not really the biggest fan of.. helping. It was simply odd for him, Griffon didn't really understand that. Didn't matter, he had a contract with V and did as he said.

His cane scratched over the ground now and then as he made his way over the rubble, trying very hard to not fall over his feet as he barely had the strength to keep up that fast. The screaming of Griffon got louder with every step, that bird certainly growing impatient with every moment that V didn't show up. Griffon flapped his big wings in front of a door, yelling annoyed as the black haired man finally made it to his side. The thing that had kept Griffon from the potential survivor was a door. V rolled his eyes and raised hsi cane to tap against the door. "Are we playin' ''Knock, knock'' or what? Now is not the time,V!", The Bird teased V.  But there was no sound coming from that room, not a single reaction. A black giant cat manifested in front of him and dashed against the door. It had been quite stuck, the frame no longer in shape but at least the door open.

And this had been the only option to get a look inside. He had tried to open it the normal way. But with a malformed frame and all the roots around it of course wouldn't be that easy. V huffed as he finally entered the room, having a quick look around. It had been used as an ballroom, he mused. A few big round tables at the side, surrounded by the equal amount of chairs. Unless they were flipped around, destroyed or pierced through by the Qlipoths roots. The giant chandellier in the middle of the room was no longer intact, half of the luxurious golden branches were wrapped by roots , a few glass shards below it, silvery petals and to Vs surpris: fresh drops of blood. Griffon was flying around and stopped in front of a tall window that was halfly covered by curtains. The drops gathered,until there was stain - as if something had been dragged along. More roots blocked the way outside, but he assumed that whoever had been a victim of the Qlipoth, was outside most likely about to die. Even if the blood was not complely dry.. If there was hope..

The painful scream of a woman pulled him out of his thoughts and made him pick up his cane once more, Griffon already looking for a clot of blood that could help them to make it through. Not in this room. But perhaps in the one below, as some of the roots had made their way through the ground. If they hurried, they might made it in time, finding whoever was standing against the Demon King as well. Chances never were big, but they had to start somehwere, he would meet Nero soon enough. A little detour would not change much, if he was honest. Shadow and Griffon at his side he hurried out of the room again, Shadow dissolving into mist below his feet to make V move without effort and much faster than before. Every second did count. Another scream, followd by a grunt. Metal that was hitting against a solid surface, Over and over again. But with time the beating got less, rapid. As if someone was loosing their power  or the will to fight back. It took him a good while to actually reach the exit of this place, having to face a few nasty demons on the way, but of those he and familiars quickly took care of and finally were able to proceed and stumble outside, walls behind them cracking and breaking down as the support of the roots slowly vanished, now that they were cut off from blood sources. It was bright outside, the sun still fighting against the looming shadow that was cast by the growing demon tree, clouds and rain usually controlling the mood of the day. So it was indeed a surpise that at least for once the sun made it's way through and reached the ground.

And there you were, in the middle of group of Empusa, blood dripping down the right side of your face, a deep cut hovering over your brow. You certainly had seen better days, like everyone who was alive lately in Red Grave City. Your hair was a mess, sprinkled with dirt and blood and stuck to your face. And it was you  who had been fighting, the weapon of choice a rusty pipe that nearly was as long as your entire arm. But to be fair, against the sheer amount of enemies you barely had a chance and every kind of weapon would do. Countless bruises showed up wherever your clothes had been ripped into shreds, your arms and legs suffering from deep cuts as well. It was not exactly a surprise that a civilian wouldn't make it among the Empusa. But it also explained the lack of your strength.

The pipe slipped from your bleeding hands and you forced youself to kneel down and pick it up, smashing it with a feral scream into the next Empusas head. V had the urge the help so he did send his familliars to support you. Those beasts were not a challenge for Griffon or Shadow, but they had to be careful not to injure you by accident. Your reflexes were so slow and it probably was just the adrenaline that kept you standing. "Ahah!", Griffon laughed and smashed against one of the demons, making sure to avoid your arm as you still tried to hold your ground. For a human you didn't do so bad. It could be better, but considering that you were a mere mortal in that mess of this city this was outstanding. With the help of Shadow and Griffon it did not take long and the fight was over, your breathing uneven and fast as the adrenaline still rushed through your veins. You nearly dropped your weapon of choice as Griffon sat on top of it, eying you closely.

"So Missy, why aren't you out of this city?", the bird asked and you seemed unfazed by the fact that there was a speaking bird. But if there were armies of demons attacking a city - a speaking bird should be the least of your worries. "No time." you panted and tried to brush some of your hair back but only made it worse. Ah right, the blood. "Perhaps you should leave now, while you can.", the young man suggested and you turned to the raspy voice, eyes staring at him.

"Your bird...is speaking, Sir.", was the reply you gave him as the said bird landed on his outstretched inked arm. For a while he held your stare, before the corner of his lips twitched up into a smile. "That he does indeed.", the bird ruffled his feathers and tried to present himself proudly. But you barely watched the bird, trying to flex your fingers and try to get a solid grip around the pipe again.

"But it would be best if you take your leave as soon as possible. We can offer you an escort, if you wish.", the man insisted while the bird complained that they had no time for that. But the man just assured the strange coloured avian that it was fine and you breathed through. "I am capable of taking care of myself, I am sure you have something else to do..", a polite decline but your muscles were sore and the cuts needed to be tended to. If there was a spot that wasn't close to falling apart you actully could take a minute. Running water would be great. And bandages. Maybe you should have thanked them. But your mood was as low as it could get. These insects were disgusting. And bug spray did not exactly help. A rusty old pipe wasn't working that well either.. "Let's go V! Missy doesn't need any help and the boy's waiting for us."

You wanted to wave them goodbye, wishing them a safe journey. You wanted to assure them that you could manage. But the ground started to shake and rumble below your feet, the street tipping to the side as another root made it's way to the surface -looking for another source of blood to feed the Tree. But while Griffon pulled V out of danger, you weren't so fast. The fair skinned man turned around as soon as he had solid ground below his feet again, risking a look to see if you made it as well."Oh shit, V. Guess that's it for her." Your upper body was pierced by one of the roots, the bloody tip facing downwards, your life essence slowly dripping down the plant. The impact left no air in your lungs to scream as there just was the shock and pain. The pipe creating a clattering sound as you let go of the weapon, closing your hands around the sharp end of the root as you tried to pull yourself from the pointy end, desperatlly forcing your muscles to make it work. No, you were not done yet. There was no fucking way that you would be stuck on a root and bleed out, No. Fucking. Way. V and his familiars moved again, hurrying to find the source of the root and destroy it. Even if Griffon was pretty sure that you wouldn't survive this. No one would survive that, humans dried out in no time and fed the Qlipoth by that.

"Slice them." Shadow moved quickly through the horde of monsters, Griffon cackling as he unleashed his power upon the enemies. You didn't know where they went but after a felt eternity, you lost your balance as the root dissolved and released your body. Coughing and spitting out blood you sank on your knees, watching the blood pool around you. The taste on your tongue was sweet and coppery, your breathing uneven. "Shit.", you cursed and blinked desperately to keepy our eyes open. You were well aware that if you closed your eyes now it would take long to open them up again. It was getting so cold. So dark. So painful. Slumping to the side you felt blood plastering your skin, starting to dry as you slowly drifted off. You couldn't give up now. There was so much that you needed to do. So much that you wanted to get done. You were going to be fine. Not. But there was not a minute that you could waste on that thought. You couldn't give in. Death was not a option.

"Ey, Shakespeare! She is still breathing!" A warm hand gently moved your chin to the side and your eyes fluttered open once again. Dark green eyes looking down at you. Was there the hint of a smile? Indeed. "Don't worry." What a gentle voice. Maybe it did sound a little different. Maybe just now, maybe it was something familiar... It was hard to tell with the drumming in your head. And while you felt incredibly light and comfortable right now, there was something that just seemed wrong. You didn't notice how the old phone in the distance was used to call for a Van that would pick you up, as he had more..pressing matters to follow. But there was something calming in his voice, as he nearly promised you that you would be fine. And while he waited, sitting right next to you Shadow curled around your form kept you warm company. V pulled the book from his jacked and started to read for you. Voice soft and melodic it was absolutely calming to listen. Neither V or Griffon knew if you would survive this and In case you would loose your life here, he at least stayed by your side  reading  poetry to you. Sometimes, even if only for a short moment of being wake you thought that he sounded as if he was sorry. But then there was the melodic tone again, enevloping you like a blanket, helping you to drift into so much better moments. Now and then a breeze graced your skin, whenever Griffn circled around to check for the Van or your state. What was it now, that made you cling to your life? It was your goal. Your memory, your dream.

"Seems like she doesn't want to die. Reminds me of someone. huh.", You wanted to return something, but your lips didn't move as you wanted to and your tongue was heavy. Your entire body was sluggish and unable to follow even the easiest command. At least somtimes you managed to move the thumb of yours. Just a bit forth and back, trying to focus on the nerves to not loose consciouness. That at least was a battle that you managed to win - no matter how much this man was reading to you. Another felt eternity passed and then even you could hear the sound of brakes, a car that rushed over the broken street and just came to a stop mere centimeters away from you. You would have been unable to move anyway. But that V at least hadn't seemed worried about that part. The sound of the cane retuned and stopped just right next to you.

"It does seem like she can make it." Did he sound relieved? It was so hard to tell right now. "Yo, chickee- out of my way!" Once again you felt even lighter than before, noticing the scent of cold smoke that now surrounded you like a cloud. Your feet bumped against a wall as you got carried somewhere, hearing a woman swear over and over again. At least she didn't try to make it worse, considering the state you were in anyway. "No peeking!" The arms that held you before awkwardly let go of you as you were placed on some sort of bench, your head hitting the rest for the back with a dull sound. And there was another curse from the woman as she tried to have a look at your wounds.

"This Lady had been hella lucky," Your forehead started to burn as something was applied on your cut, followed by a gauze. Same for your arms and legs. Tiredly you groaned and forced your eyes open, it took a good while to focus on something. The room was filled in a big cloud of smoke and the lightning was everything but good for the eyes. But it didn't take long and you noticed at least where you were. Inside a car: a van.  And the woman you looked at seemed friendly. Or surprised that you woke up so soon and stared at her. "Mornin' Sweety. You should take a good nap and I'll drive that Van to the border of tRed Grave, Here's no place for ya."

As much as you wanted to insist, a blanket was laid over you, carefully tucked into your side and it was so heavy and warm.. You didn't have an interest in fighting back anymore. It was so warm and cozy and the pain slowly faded. Still you noticed the constant chatter between the woman and the bird. Now and then the voice of the man breaking through the silence. But you weren't surprised that it was not quiet for long. The door to the Van got closed, a lighter was used and then the engine of the car started to howl. It didn't matter that you were supposed to sleep, your mind tried very hard to stay awake. And in the end, you lost. The next time you woke up, the car was no longer making a milkshake out of you. You felt much better than before. The pounding in your head was gone and the pain in your chest as well. Your skin itched caused by all the dried blood.

"Ey, sleeping beauty is awake!" You slowly tried to sit up, only to be hit with a towel right in your face. "take a shower, sweetie. Just go to the back of the Van." The woman introduced herself as Nico, before she started to fiddle around with a box. Besides the towel she also handed you bandages and some clothing that was not your size but at least it covered more of your skin, that what you were still wearing right now. "Thanks..", you muttered, overloaded with all the stuff that was given to you and bumped your head on a cabinet as you tried to get up. Oh great. The bird started to laugh with a cackling sound and you just growled weakly while squeezing yourself through the Van. Shower..Shower. Ah! Hidden behind that corner. It took a while to arrange yourself, telling the bird to not even dare to peek. V - apparently the guy that had saved you, didn't seem to be type to do something immodest. But the Bird.. Tsk. Stripping out of your clothes you stepped inside the shower, playing around  with the handles to adjust the temperature of the water. While trying to find the perfect setting for yourself, you took of the bloody bandages. The skin underneath was mostly smooth, the tissue of the your skin had been knitting itself together pretty fast. Only a few old scars showed up on your arms, legs and between your shoulder blades. The only scars that you still could feel.. But at least you managed to keep them out of the sight of strangers, so no one dared to ask.

Finally bare you used the water, working your hair with something that was supposed to be shampoo. But it took nearly forever to even get the all dirt out of your hair. The water remained red for a good while, just slowly turning lighter as the water turned cold. Leaning your forehead against the wall you breathed through, allowing the cold water to run over your back, the steady feeling of water drumming on your skin was able to comfort you. You couldn't even remember when you had your last shower. It didn't matter if the water was warm or cold. You just wanted to feel clean, wash all the gore and blood away. You could not stay here forever. Even if the thought was temping, so you hurried to clean yourself up as fast as possible and picked  the towel to rub yourself dry. This probably had been the best shower you ever had taken. Or at least in the last few weeks. Reaching outside to grab the clothes you stared at the bird and the bird stared right back at you.  Was that thing serious? Throwing the blanket at that thing you cursed it, promising it to make some soup out of it as you harshly grabbed the clothes and slammed the cabin of the shower again. Empusa? No problem. But a Demon Bird that had been waiting infront of the shower for you to finish?

Creepy as fuck. With damp hair and dressed you made your way outside and crossed your arms in front of your chest., judging the avian with a look, that made him flee with a screeching sound and landing on the shoulder of his master. "Whass' up, Missy? Afraid to join us?" Well, that didn't work as planned..You certainly wouldn't tell the bird that an apology was in order.. Instead you turned your attention towards the woman at the drivers seat and smiled grateful.

"Thanks for the shower..and the clothes. I will return that kindness to you." "It's fine, Miss. Got the boy to pay for me, ain't that right, V?" The man just huffed and agreed quietly, but didn't look up from his book. He simply turned the page and hit the demonic bird with the length of the cane to stop him from doing more nonsense. Or you really would make some soup out of him. Nico took a pull from her cigarette and leaned over her seat as she eyed you while puffing out some smoke.

You hated the smell, but she had cared for your and still planned to drop you off at the border of the city. As if there was a way for you to leave this place. You weren't done yet. No. The new Demon King needed to be stopped. And there still were people out there that could be saved. And you were able to protect yourself... Just not like this, "Lookin' much better without all the blood.", Nico hummed and eyed you really closely. Did she notice? The eyes behind the round glasses were sharp, but if there was something your host saw, Nico didn't mouth it all.

"And your overall state seems to be fine. You recoverd fast,", the mysterious man mused and you knew that you had to think of a story about that really, really quick. Unless they let the topic drop. By the looks of it he had a contract with demons. That you could see clearly.. But desperate times...

You shook of that thought and turned back to Nico who just inhaled deeply to start talking. "We'll move on tomorrow. If ya want, take a walk outside. V needs to clear the street for me." "Why don't you do that yourself?", the Bird asked and ducked as Nico threw some packaging at the Bird, who simply dissolved into ink and got absorbed by V's body, the small box meeting black hair. He didn't look all to happy with that situation, but you decided to indeed take a walk outside and leave them alone with the discussion.

It was darker than before, cloudy and even a bit chilly. The Van was rusty and severally damaged, now that you actually had a chance to have a look at it.

With a sigh you tried to fix the pants that you were given. Loose fit at least.. But maybe you needed a belt for them soon. Unlike the Van, the air smelled like rain. You couldn't help but inhale deeply. It certainly wasn't smart to get out with damp hair, but a cold in times like these couldn't be worse than demons and Trees from the Underworld. The street the Van was parked in was meant for one way only and there were some roots in the way, ah - the ones V had to get out of the way.You wondered how far...Oh. Nevermind, you could see the tree from here. A few fragile buildings left and right, cracked ground and so many inncoents that were dried out and leaving only shells behind. The bodies would dissolve fast enough and there was nothing you could do. Only keep the fallen in your memories. How many families were ripped arpart? If the Gates of Heaven would open for the victims?

Walking around the Van you hummed a familiar tune, until you were interrupted by a cloud of black ink, slowly building itself into that bird from before. "So..Miss.", you leaned against the Van and looked up to the Demon, his wings nearly hitting your face as he started to fly in front of you. "What is it, chicken?" "You're not human, are ya?" Raising a brow you crossed your arm in front of your chest and looked up to the bird. "What makes you think so?", was the only reply he would get. Griffon cackled and sat on top of the Van, ruffling his feathers proudly. "Your not dry like a raisin", he squeaked and used his beak to hit your head. As if to play 'Knock-Knock' .. Did his master not know about that birds own mind?

"It runs in the family." I was not even a lie. Just not the entire truth. But there was no reason to explain yourself to a Demon. "Nah, Nah. Not good enough, you hear me? You might fool the others, but you can't follow a Demon. Not the mighty Griffon!" That saved you the introduction. Griffon.. Didn't ring a bell in your head. Leaving the spot at the Van you took a few steps and turned around to face the avian, the hint of a smirk on your lips. "Smart little bird. But does it matter? There are more important matters to focus on." He cackled and there was electricity in the air, his position towards you didn't seem to be friendly at all. "Need to know if you cause any problems for V. So?" His eyes focused you and something was shifting in the air. Demons. "Listen, Demon.. We wish for the same. And now get your master, things are getting ugly."

The street indeed filled with all the nasties, you were unable to count the amount of demons, but thankfully V was leaving the van and regarded you only with a look, telling you to stay inside. "You just recovered, it might be best...to sit this battle out." "Don't worry..V. - I shall be fine." "You can't be serious, now Ihe two watch you both?! I'm not getting paid enough for this shit!" This time you smirked for real, but didn't even plan to go back inside. That bird was right. But thankfully he didn't know about your origin or the abilities that lurked deep within you. There was more to this world than just Devils and Demons.

It was time to bring back the light to this city.

#DMC5 #dmc5 vergil #dmc5 nero #dmc5 dante #vergil #vergil sparda #Red Grave City #I am not really good at writing okay #Dadgil #How could I not? Just look at Vergil #hes so hot #he is so fine #and aged like fine wine #send help #dmc dante #v dmc5 #dmc sparda #dmc nero #Own Writing #eva sparda #So much angst incoming

[fleetingmotivation]

Agrios Lore

- Full name Agrios Styl (Pronounced Stee-lay)

-is Half Greek on her moms side, not sure about dad

- Trans woman, Pronouns She/Her

- 26 years old

- Born in Maine, in a small town near the coast

-Mom died when she was like 2, never knew dad, was raised by her Aunt Stella in a large house in the woods.

-Aunt Stella was a Librarian so Agrios read a lot as a child.

-Stella ended up homeschooling Agrios

-Agrios took an interest in history, particularly Greek Mythology

-Aunt Stella Would tell Agrios story's of Greek mythology, and agrios liked them quite a bit

-Agrios came out to Aunt Stella when she was 15, Aunt Stella was fine with it,

-Agrios would help out around the Library with Stella, considers it her first job

-Agrios heads to college when shes 18, majors in Anthropology, and World History

-Drops out of college at 20, hates the ridged structure and rules of the institution, but learns a lot and considers it a positive experience

-After Living at home for a few months, decides to travel the US and do some soul searching, Aunt stella gives her a used truck, an envelope with some cash, a baseball bat, and her blessing.

-Agrios heads to the American southwest, quite enjoys the heat.

-one day she needs to do laundry, and instead turns a sheet into her chiton, likes it so much it becomes her regular driving wardrobe

-she sleeps in the bed of her truck, staring at the stars

-gets really into Coast to Coast Am, and starts her own Paranormal “Investigations” (Bumming around Weird places)

-During an “Investigation” in Nevada (she was napping lol) she hears a sound in the desert sand and goes to investigate

-She finds some misshapen creature gnawing on the bones of a coyote, when it sees her it attacks, and Agrios kills it with her bat in self defense

-she buries the remains, cleans up, and the next time shes in town she calls into coast to coast am

-Money starts to run tight, and she considers heading for home, when she is contacted by someone claiming to represent the “wings of Icarus” a group of “strange security professionals” who have an interest in the creature she killed and want to know more about her

-Agrios explains what she knew of the creature, where she buried it, and talks about her life, specifically mentions feeling “a lack of Direction or Purpose”

-Eventually, the wings offer Agrios a job as a professional Monster hunter, which she gladly accepts, and begins training

- Agrios trains in combat and information gathering, and shows an affinity for light swordplay, although she tends to put way to much focus on “looking cool as fuck!” (as she puts it) leading to tons of sloppy decisions and unnecessary risks

- Also, thanks to Wings resources, learns of a simple fire spell, and through tireless nights learns to make the fire burn green, while pretty, it offers no tactical advantage, and her instructors consider it wasted effort.

- Once finished training, she sets out monster hunting, which she has been doing for the last few years. she considers the work fulfilling, and likes the travel.

[General Notes and Trivia]

-Favorite foods in order are Chocolate glaze donuts, apples that don't suck, and kinda stale gas station popcorn

- Favorite color is green, and has her hair redyed every 3 months or so

- has done a backflip before, and brags about in constantly

- Loves “hype shit” and actively seeks out excitement and thrills

- has a fear of heights thanks to a Griffon in Colorado

- named her truck Jezebel, hopes to god she never meets an actual Jezebel

- her favorite state is Nevada, and her least favorite is Ohio

- is a lesbian, but has not dated before, never really in one place long enough

- Likes her music “Loud and Fast”no real genre limitations

- gets off track often, turning down dirt roads and footpaths at every chance she gets, to see what she finds

- owns a pair of cat ears she bought in Vegas, keeps them stashed deep in her things

- favorite place shes visited so far is Chaco Canyon National Historical Park

- Sleeps in the Afternoon, And drives at Night

-Loves Fighting, hates Killing, will avoid it if she can

-Spent a lot of time on the road, and would talk to herself, and sometimes talks to herself accidentially

(Agrios Creation Notes)

[These are the original Notes For Agrios, anything Agrios related should stick to this first, consider this her core]

-Agrios is a Self insert First and an Actual Character second

-Agrios is Trans like basically all of my Ocs

-Agrios is High Energy In a Chill way

-Agrios Lives for hype, and desires Excitement above all else

-Agrios is Sexy

-Agrios is A Kid Icarus OC

-Agrios Loves a Fight, and Fights for Fun

-Agrios’s hat is as big as it needs to be to be Cool

#agrios #my art #tagged as my art to find it easier #if you have agrios questions feel free to ask #i enjoy it #now to draw some more i guess

[skvaderarts]

Hiraeth Chapter Two: Hindsight

Masterlist can be found Here!

Chapter Two: Hindsight

Notes: I’ve had an overwhelming majority of you request this kind of chapter up until now, so I hope you like it at least half as much as I enjoyed writing it. I think it’s finally time. Buckle in, because this is gonna be a long one.

-~-

The room fell silent. It was as though all the air had been sucked from the space between each of them, the small living area suddenly converting itself into an airlock of sorts. Any vestiges or illusions of a pleasant and welcoming environment falling away like so much set dressing leaving nothing but the most piercing silence imaginable. Keen ears such as theirs could only pick up the faint sounds of breathing as they looked out across the room at the young white-haired summoner, questions without answers brewing at the forefront of their collective consciousness. It was only an extraordinary circumstance that led to a situation where V was willing to elaborate on something so deeply personal, and there was no question that this qualified as such an event. But there were still a few things that they didn’t understand on principle alone, and they needed to understand them before they could continue.

“Wait wait wait wait wait…” The devil hunter in red held up his hands for a moment, stopping V before he could go any further.” What made you remember this in the first place? What’s going on with you? Because the last time I checked, you didn’t just volunteer to tell us your life’s story, V. Somethings up with you.”

A ragged sighed escaped the younger man’s lips as he considered his uncle’s words before nodding in agreement. Yes, perhaps a bit of context was needed in this situation.

“Your quite right, Dante. The only issue is that I don’t know what that “something” is.” He paused for a moment, meandering through his thoughts. He wasn’t entirely sure how to explain what he’d experienced leading up to this conversation in a way that made sense.” Everything is an incomprehensible blur of fragmented memories. I remember boarding the train, and then from there, there is very little that I can grasp. I have a vague recollection of being on the train and suddenly feeling overwhelming… I can’t quite put it into words. I’d compare it to coming up for air when you didn’t realize you were drowning, only to realize that you were under longer than you could remember. Reality was subjective, almost as though something else was going through my memories and I was resisting it, if only barely. It felt as though I was dreaming but wide awake all at once. It’s very strange. I apologize, but I can’t explain it any better than that.”

Both Dante and Vergil nodded, seemingly considering his statement. The eldest of the two seemed to be considering something else, while Dante was simply trying to comprehend whether or not he was actually capable of comprehending this sort of thing since it was so abstract. Strangely enough, he had gone through something like this once before, but he wasn’t sure that this was the time to bring that up. Much like V, it was a memory that he had buried deep and wasn’t sure that he wanted to relive in vivid detail. But then again, if V was going to…

“Hey V… are you alright?” Nero asked almost hesitantly. He was genuinely unsure of how to react to such a statement. What V had just experienced sounded truly awful to him, and he’d known that something was wrong with him the moment they boarded the train, but to find out what it had actually been was a different matter entirely.” I thought that something might be wrong with you and I clued Dante into it, but I wasn’t sure what else to do…”

V nodded, slightly distant as he tried to recall the things he’d experienced during their trip. Now even those vague memories were starting to slip away as he tried feebly to grasp them to no avail. It was like waking up from a nightmare only to feel the residual fear, but not remember anything you dreamed about.” Yes, I vaguely remember that. Thank you, Nero. I may very well still be in such a state if the two of you had not acted as you did.”

Nero nodded in agreement, turning his attention to Matier.” Why would that knife even be able to do something like that? It is cursed or something? We’ve had it for a while now and nothing like that has happened before.”

Matier smiled softly, sparing a deliberate glance in the direction of the box the blade was in as Nico and Sirrus migrated further into the room. They’d been hugging the wall on the far side of the room until then, unwilling to interject into what seemed to be a family affair.” Nothing that you know of, young one. If what he describes is true, who among you would be able to tell? After all, we have very little insight as to how the Arcana functions.”

The young devil hunter opened his mount to respond, only to find himself at a loss for words. How could they know indeed? It wasn’t as though any of them had been able to look at V and tell immediately. He’d been that way for several hours before his prolonged silence seemed to register to any of them. If the blade could control its own duration of effect, then there was no way of knowing if it had decided to affect them at all up until then, especially if it didn’t need to be in direct contact with however it was manipulating. Nero wasn’t sure if that was the case yet, but it brought a lot of questions.

“It’s weird, but I think I’ve had something like this happen to me before. It was years ago, though. On Malet island…” Dante groaned slightly. This was one memory he could do without sharing, but the more that V described his ordeal, the more he felt compelled to do the same.” I was just about to go to the underworld to fight Mundus when Nightmare attacked me for the second time. He was guarding the gate or something. Anyway, he swallowed me and I got sucked into his little pocket dimension where he shows you your worst fears or whatever, and it felt kinda like what you’re talking about. Only thing was that when he showed me a bunch of illusions, I knew that they weren’t real because…” 

Dante paused, trailing off as he noticed Vergil’s evident discomfort with the subject matter. It didn’t come as a surprise to the youngest of the Dark Knight Sparda’s twin sons that his older counterpart might not like hearing about that place. He could only scarcely imagine what he’d gone through during his time there. In ways large and small, it had affected them both to some degree over the years, but he was willing to bet that despite his own immense suffering, Vergil had definitely gotten the short end of that stick. Perhaps literally. Mundus was an inventive bastard.

The Darkslayer folded his arms, seemingly disturbed to some degree to hear about this entire situation. He seemed to retract somewhat into himself, if only mentally as he tried not to think about his past. It was a daily effort for him to keep his demons buried, and having to hear about Nightmare didn’t help. It was bad enough that Griffon and Shadow were still around, but he had less of a bone to pick with them. 

Nightmare, however… well, that was an entirely different matter.

“... How were you so sure that what Nightmare showed you wasn’t real, Dante?” Vergil knew that he’d regret asking the question before he even asked it, and with every syllable that escaped his lips, he came to dread the answer more than he had a millisecond prior. Still, it might prove to be useful information. Or at least that was what he was going to keep telling himself. In truth, he was simply curious to know if Nightmare had shown them both the same thing during their respective encounters, but he didn’t feel like discussing his reasons as to why. They were deeply personal.

For a moment, Dante considered finding a reason to vacate the premises entirely. The subject matter had certainly taken a turn for the worst. But they had to have this conversation at some point, didn’t they? A part of him had known that it was running the risk of follow up questions when he’d made that statement, and there was simply nothing he could really do about that outside of asking them not to ask. But that just didn’t feel right to him, especially when it came to Vergil. They’d been through so much there that it almost felt like a betrail not to elaborate on what he’d been shown, even when he knew that he should probably keep it to himself.

“Look I don’t know what that has to do with…” The Youngest Son of Sparda stopped when he realized that something in Vergil’s demeanor had changed. It wasn’t something that anyone else in the room could probably pick up on, but they were twins after all. Sometimes they did thighs that only they truly understood, and from what Dante could understand, Vergil wanted him to answer his question. No, it was more than that. He needed to know the answer to this question. It was as though he was haunted by some nameless force that Dante couldn’t quite comprehend, and his answer might provide him with some form of release. Now that he knew that he had the answers that he was seeking, he needed them. 

With a sigh, he gave Vergil an almost unreadable look before continuing, never once breaking eye contact with him. It was probably the first time in several decades that they’d done so with one another.” I knew because… you were already dead, Vergil. I watched you die. You couldn’t have been that thing anymore. How were you supposed to come after me to kill me if you were already… beyond my reach?”

The room fell silent again as everyone became painfully aware of the fact that they were in the middle of a deeply painful and complicated conversation that would have more than likely been better had in private. Vergil gave Dante a look none of them had ever seen before, and one that they could only vaguely understand. To them, he almost looked confused, but to Dante, it was another matter entirely. He’d seen Vergil upset enough times to know that that wasn’t what this was. In an instant, he had been sent catapulting back in time to when they had been children. Specifically the day their mother had explained to them that she didn’t know if their father was coming back. It had come as a direct result of a habit of Vergil’s that he’d had back then, one that Dante had found irritating as a young boy, but now understood much better as an adult who could look back on the situation with a fresh pair of eyes.

Back then, anytime their beloved father Sparda had left the house, Vergil had made a habit of sitting by the door and waiting for him. He would make the pilgrimage across the house carrying a chair he kept especially for that reason. He treasured spending time with their parents, especially their father, and just seemed to know when he was coming back. As such, he had made it his goal in life to be the first to welcome him home whenever he came back from whatever he’d been doing, regardless of how mundane or miniscule his reason for leaving had been. He rarely left for long periods of time, and Vergil was always eager to hear about his travels and experiences, even when the topic actively bored Dante to death. 

After several weeks of avoiding the subject, their mother had come to speak with them. Dante had been begging Vergil to play with him, but he’d refused, noting that he was sure that the instant that he left his post, their father would arrive, and he would miss his chance to surprise him. He’d always acted so surprised to see Vergil back then, even though Dante now realized that he’d known where they all were at all times, and was only doing so for his brother’s betterment. 

When their mother had gently explained the situation to them both after overhearing their little disagreement, trying her best to soften the blow, something had changed in Vergil. There had been no anger in his face that day. Only abject horror and pain at the realization that things were never going to be quite the same at their tranquil family home again. That was when he’d first become so quiet; when he’d first began to develop the habit of burying his emotions under a deep layer of thinly disguised suffering that he now associated with his twin. Vergil had been utterly devastated, and had been far too young to even begin to find a healthy way to channel that heartbreak into something less self-destructive. He’d been suffering long before their mother had died and their family had been torn apart, and that was a reality that Dante had been powerless to do anything about for decades.

That was the same pain that he saw in his brother’s face now, but it was doubly tragic now that he understood what it meant, and that he had grown so adept at hiding it.

Dante wanted to say something, but there was no time. Not then, at least. But sometime soon, they would be alone again, and he quietly assured himself that he would make the time to ask him what he’d seen. He knew deep down that Vergil had experienced something with Nightmare that had caused this kind of reaction in him. Call it a gut reaction, but he just somehow knew that what he’d just said had either confirmed or disproved something fundamental within his twin brother, and he felt the need to follow up with him and find out what had led to this. They’d never talked about what he’d been through on that island that had led to him being in the state that he was in when they’d met up again after all those years, and he felt like it was high time that they did some. And for the first time in an immeasurably long time, he was willing to believe that Vergil might actually be willing to humor him, even if only for a moment.

“Wait. What “thing” is he talking about? I’ve never heard anything about this before.” Nero inquired quietly. He wasn’t exactly whispering, but he was speaking in a tone that was a bit more gentle and indoor appropriate than he normally did. Nero could tell that there was something going on between the two of them, and he didn’t want to negatively impact that, but he just felt a nagging inability to shake that question. This was an opportunity to find out about his father’s past, something that he realized at that moment that he knew literally nothing about aside from the fact that Nico had mentioned to him that Dante had Killed Vergil once. At the time, he’d assumed to some degree that she was taking the piss, but now that it had come out of Dante’s mouth and his father hadn’t denied it…

A lot more about them suddenly made sense to him, and all of it was painful.

V gave Nero a serious look as though he knew something that he didn’t. From what he was willing to guess, it was a warning of some sort, but he couldn’t be sure. And how could his older sibling know any of this himself? Then again, he knew precious little about what had happened in V’s life leading up to now, so it was hard to say. At that moment, Nero felt more out of the loop than ever, and that was saying something considering the amount of time he’d spent around his family without even knowing that he was related to them. He had to imagine this was kind of how V felt towards the rest of the group a large majority of the time. And if that was the case, he pitied him. Hell, he pitied them all right now. It seemed that there was a lot of tragedy in their past that he knew very little about, and he was at odds with the part of himself that wanted to keep it that way and the part of himself that wanted desperately to have the answers to the questions he’d had for so long. It was miserable.

The Eldest Son of Sparda glanced over at both Nero and V, giving them a look that V seemed to understand the implications of more than his younger sibling before sighing heavily and turning his attention back to Dante. He seemed surprised and pained all at once, and Nero got the impression that he was going to find out why soon enough. 

“So you’re telling me that you’ve never explained this to him?” Vergil asked, a hint of something unfamiliar to them in his voice. It seemed that they’d touched on something profound within him, and he hadn’t been expecting to have this conversation with them today.

With a soft huff, Dante nodded in agreement.” I just… For the most part, I tried to avoid that part of my life. It didn’t work very well, but that’s what I did. I think I thought that if I just pretended it never happened, I’d make my peace with what happened between us eventually. Part of me still does.” Dante looked down at the floor, seeking something, anything to distract him from the painful topic of conversation that he found himself in at that moment. Explaining his coping mechanisms to the very person that had been the source of his agony in the first place wasn’t something he’d ever banked on doing, but here he was.” As for Nero…  he didn’t even know who you were until after you came back. Never told him who I was, either. Didn’t know how to bring that up, ya know? Guess I was afraid he’d hate me for it and I’d never see him again. I’d kinda ran out of relatives at that point. That’s probably why he bitch slapped me across the room back in Redgrave. Nero doesn’t appreciate lies. Just an educated guess.”

Nero stared at both of them blankly, unsure as to how he was supposed to process that. V looked at him quietly, seemingly wanting to say something, anything, to make the entire situation less uncomfortable, but not entirely sure where to start. He had no history with this situation and was nowhere near as close to Dante as Nero was. This had to be difficult for them all.

He closed his eyes for a moment before turning away from Dante and back to the both of them, a groaning sigh escaping his lips as he resigned himself to his fate. He felt like he was explaining to Nero that V was his brother all over again, except this might actually be worse. 

“I was not gone your entire lives out of purposeful negligence. I spent most of that time in servitude to the Prince of Darkness who was responsible for the death of our mother after sealing myself in the underworld after a battle with Dante. The decision to serve him was not one that I had any part in, of course.” He took a breath before continuing, half relieved to finally be getting this off of his chest and equally uncomfortable with actually speaking of it. As far as things went that he wanted to keep buried, this was at the very top of the list. But it was time.” After destroying Yamato in a bid to keep the demon king Mundus from obtaining it, he decided to spare me. It was a decision made mostly to spite me and deny me the privilege of dying honorably as was preferable in that situation, but it also served his best interests. But when I refused to serve him, he used his power to corrupt me into an instrument of his own design that he could use as an extension of his will.” 

A slightly ill look crossed Vergil’s face as he came to grips with what he would have to confess next.” I was transformed into a being he referred to as Nelo Angelo, his black angel. And I was to do his bidding and have no choice in the matter. And it continued that way for countless years despite my constant resistance and his ever creative methods of forcing me to do so… until Trish lured Dante to the island and I was ordered to kill him.

The barest form of a smirk ghosted Vergil’s face as he spared Dante a momentary glance.” At that point, I was at an impasse. Mundus was the only one who could release me from his servitude, and I refused to give him the pleasure of begging for it, and killing Dante on his behalf was entirely out of the question. Dante ended that impasse by ending me and then Mundus shortly after. That was fortunate considering the fact that he had just resurrected me for the sole purpose of his own endless desire to watch me suffer. But with no master to be bound to, I was free to venture elsewhere. And I did so… until after I encountered Belial and, defeated, decided to return and usurp the demon thrown. It’s been an eventful few decades, to say the least.”

V closed his eyes and looked down at the ground, unable to face him at the moment. The situation was far too heavy for his liking, and this was a matter that was best explained to Nero instead of himself. He had some degree of prior knowledge as to how this had occurred, and he knew that he and Vergil would have to speak on that some time in the near future. After all, there was a part of him that simply knew his father knew this already.

Nero exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, feeling an unfamiliar pain travel through his entire body as he tried to comprehend the unfathomable horror that had just been painted for him. Yes, he now understood a great deal more about both his father and his uncle, but what he understood also helped him understand why Dante had made a point of never elaborating on the matter to him. He’d always wondered what the devil hunter in red had never liked it when he asked him about his family, and now he understood perfectly.

“... Your mother was murdered?” He could barely make himself speak those words.

Dante nodded.” Yea. We were eight at the time. Demons attacked the house and it almost burned to the ground. They were looking for us, being Sparda’s sons made us targets, too. Wasn’t more than two years after our dad disappeared. We still don’t really know what happened to him. No one’s said a thing about him since. It’s like he just… ceased to exist or something. You’d think you’d at least hear about a demon bragging that they killed him or something, but nope. Nothing.”

It was Vergil’s turn to interject.” I searched for any trace of him for years. That’s how I encountered both of your mothers. But I was never able to find anything that would lead me to his location. I simply don’t know what happened to him… and that does not sit well with me.”

There was a part of Nero’s heart that hurt for both of them. To have their mother burn to death in a house fire so soon after their father’s disappearance and then for Vergil to spend years looking for him only to end up enslaved by what had to be his worst enemy… that kind of horror wasn’t something Nero was sure he could even begin to grasp fully. At the very least, he now understood his father and uncle’s dysfunctional relationship a little bit better.

“At least you two had each other right?” Nero watched their faces for some indication that he might be right, a gnawing emptiness brewing in the pit of his stomach as the revelation that that wasn’t going to happen hit him like a freight train.” Shit… what happened between you two?”

Before either of them could answer, Nico suddenly bolted out the front door, looking exceptionally upset. They all watched her, somewhat surprised and confused as to what could have been said to upset her in such a way. Sirrus waived his hand almost dismissively as he started towards the door, signaling for them to continue. “Don’t get up. Please. I’ll go make sure she’s alright. You lads continue. You clearly need to.”

With that, he rushed out of the door in a manner that was admittedly strange to behold. He took long strides but seemed to clear the distance between the door and where he stood unusually quick. Nero swore that something strange had just happened, but he had no way of knowing for sure. And to be honest, the strange things that the red-headed man did were the least of his concerns at that moment in time.

Dante sighed and shrugged, seemingly tired all of a sudden. “We had a falling out after our house was attacked, is what happened. I thought he was dead, and he thought I was dead, and we’re both idiots who can’t talk about anything important unless we’re throwing blows in the process because it just… hurts too much.” 

Much to Nero’s surprise, Vergil nodded in agreement after pausing for a moment to contemplate Dante’s words.” I had fundamental misconceptions about what happened that day since I was elsewhere on the property, and it never occurred to me to ask Dante what had happened. I wrongly assumed that I’d been left to die by them both… It was foolish of me.” He looked down towards the ground, fiddling uncomfortably with his worn gloves. Anything to make the conversion end.” It’s a topic I tend to give wide berth. And one that has dominated both of our lives for entirely too long. I can only hope it’s over now, at least for the most part. There’s no way forward with it. At least not from what I can see.” 

A soft laugh came from Dante as he shook his head and leaned forward, resting his face on his palms and he allowed his elbows to embed themselves into his knees.” I take back what I said before, brother. That is the smartest thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

The quiet sound of Matier’s footsteps could be heard as she approached them. She took her staff and wacked both Dante and Vergil upside the head, shaking her head as she gave them a sympathetic but displeased look.” I can see the toll this has taken on you both, Sons of Sparda. I knew your father long before you were born. It would pain him so to see you both fight. He told me as much himself.” She shook her head, sitting down in the seat across from them as Dante gave Vergil a warning look. The Eldest Son of Sparda had obviously been considering retaliating for a moment, his surprised rage getting the better of him.” He said that should you ever come to exist, he’d only want you to be happy. For you to not carry his burdens. That was the world he wanted for you. What he strived towards for you and for everyone else. Be better to each other. He’d like that.”

As both of them looked at her quietly, the truth in her words gripped them. That did sound like something their father would say. He was wise in that way. And they were sure their mother would agree with them. They’d made it this long and this far. They were both still here. They had to make that worth something. And while they weren’t quite ready to say as much to one another, they were sorry.

V watched the entire ordeal quietly before glancing over at Nero. The younger of the two was shaking his head, the weight of the entire situation weighing on him heavily. Their family truly was a mess. So many things that hadn’t made the slightest bit of sense to him now seemed as clear as day, and although he was glad he knew the truth and that they were talking for once, there was a part of him that would have been perfectly happy never knowing the bottomless suffering that was the lives of their father and uncle.” Is it too much to hope that your story won’t be as bleak as theirs just was, V?”

In an act that took everyone by surprise, V rested his hand against Nero’s shoulder before slowly leaning forward and pulling him into a loose hug. Nero went so rigid that it put tungsten to shame and Dante and Vergil looked at them both like they’d grown a second head.” I’m sorry to disappoint you, Nero, but that is indeed too much to hope for. It’s best you lower your expectations now, lest you give yourself false hope.”

Nero sighed and reciprocated the hug, allowing his head to rest on his older brother’s shoulder. Yes, of course, it was. How foolish of him to assume otherwise.” Yea, I shoulda figured as much. How stupid of me. So tell me, V… what’s your damage?”

V gave him a final gentle but reassuring squeeze before releasing him. Today had been an incredibly hard day, and he never would have guessed that such a benign admission of internal guilt could have unleashed the floodgates of so much sorrow and misery. But here they all were, holding their lives hostage with enough collective pain to send a certified physicist straight to the bottom of a stiff bottle of alcohol.” I’m sorry to say that it’s quite a long story. And I don’t’ believe it’s one any of you are going to enjoy.”

-~-

I’ve been looking forward to this damn chapter for like a YEAR. It was time that they finally talk to one another about this. It’s the only way they are ever going to start working things out. There was simply too much pain wrapped up in their pasts to just move on and forget it. And now it’s V’s turn to share the pain.

But first… Nico.

See you all on Friday. Well, if we haven’t all died of second-hand sadness by then! Thanks for the support so far! Your all awesome!

#Devil May Cry AU #Vergil #Dante #Nero #V #Vitale #Nico #Devil May Cry #Devil May Cry 5 #Hiraeth #DMC #DMC5 #DMCV #Post Devil May Cry 5

[tsukuna]

Chapters: 5/?                                         NEW CHAPTER POSTED

“Ahehehe,” Griffon cackled, “Jus’ look at all ‘em roots sucking up all that blood willy nilly!” He continued to babble about how funny the roots were, as expected. You tuned back in after he said, “Ya know, I’ve been thinking…” Both you and V tilted your heads. “Shouldn’t we have helped the humans run away first? Right now they’re just sitting ducks for the Qliphoth’s roots.”

“What’s the point? No one would have believed me anyways.” Based on how quickly he responded, you assumed V thought about the situation earlier.

You scratched your head with a sigh. “There’s just too many of them. If I come across one who can possibly be saved--” not like the one you just saw “--then I’ll help.”

Griffon nodded to both your responses. “Eh, whatever, not our problem. I’m sure it’ll work out.” You couldn’t help but inwardly chuckle at the comment. It would work itself out... with the solution being the roots devouring and engorging themselves on human blood. “We should focus on that rookie instead. Ya sure he’s gonna come back? Still think we shoulda gone with.”

“Nero will come back.” You were sure of it.

V nodded. “That child’s not the type to simply accept defeat like that.”

“Oh really? Didn’t realize you two knew him that well,” Griffon teased.

“Oh, I understand him very well,” V responded to the bird. “You would know what I’m talking about if you saw the look in his eyes.” 

“Geez, I wonder who he got that from.” Griffon seemed to be insinuating something, but try as you might, you could not figure it out. 

A gurgle and slither erupted from behind. Another smelly demon. Unfortunately, it was something that you would have to get used to for the next month.It was one of the most ugly things you looked at: a bulging, insect-like head, the body of a man, spikes coming out of the back, clawed feet. To top it off, it was holding two handy-dandy, person-sized knives. The demon appeared to be stronger than the Empusas, undoubtedly, but considering they were a let down… you couldn’t imagine these guys were that much. Nothing compared to Urizen, nothing compared to Vergil.

It ran and sliced at V, only to be decapitated the next moment by Shadow. V redirected the blade away from his body, a cocky smile adorning his face while the cat growled at its body. You sidestepped the bubbling fountain of blood that gushed from its headless neck.V, however, did not, opting instead to skewer the demon with his cane. You primarily watched over him during his moments of weakness or while the two of you were resting. Despite being covered head to toe in blood, you recalled one of your initial thoughts about him. He’s really beautiful.

“I don’t understand your expression,” V’s comment pulled you out of your thoughts as he looked over you curiously.

You flushed a little in embarrassment, but decided to be honest anyways. “Ah, I was simply thinking you looked cool and beautiful.” He simply stared at you, so you added, “You smell like shit though.” Smooth. 

He sniffed himself and confirmed it. “Demon blood isn’t the most lovely fragrance.” With a sigh, you took a moment to lean against the balcony and shut your eyes. You heard a quiet conversation happening between V and Griffon, but decided not to wedge yourself into it.

That didn’t stop you from picking up what you could though. You listened to words about Dante, appearance, defeat, answers, but had no definitive answers on how they connected. However, the bits and pieces did bring you back to your dream of Vergil and of Dante. V knew about that past, but if you wanted to pry out pieces of information, you knew you’d have to offer up some pretty substantial facts about who you were. 

“Holy shit!” Your eyes snapped open at the sound of people screaming. It appeared your moment of reprieve was over. After all, you told Griffon that if you were around and could help, you’d at least make the effort. Your attention turned to V, and you were curious about what he was going to do.

“Human? ...Human,” he muttered. You quirked your brow at the words, but jumped over the railing and made your descent. Fighting was easy enough, with or without V; though part of you did hope he’d join and keep you company. How selfish and spoiled have I become? Despite the distance, you landed on your feet comfortably and gracefully, having already summoned a sword as your weapon. A brief glance over the people showed expressions of unhinged horror, eyes red from screaming and crying, face covered in sweat. The dead carried similar expressions, but theirs were unchanging. 

“What the fuck?!” You heard Griffon screech from above and saw V coming down as well. You smirked to yourself. I guess I’m getting what I wanted. “There’s no point!” Griffon insisted to V. “Just let them die!” It was a fair point, you acknowledged as you began slashing at the skeletal demons equipped with scythes. Shadow, Griffon, and V were by your side shortly. Cleaning up the demons (for now) would be a quick task. “Didn’t ya say you didn’t want to drain your powers?”

“I just have to do what I can,” he said flatly. “Even if it’s only a fraction of what I could normally do.” 

“Tch. And who’s the one who’s gonna have to pick up and re-glue your pieces?” You complained, but you didn’t truly mind.

V joked, “How could I ever repay you?”

“Let’s stay side by side, hm? That’s payment enough!” You exclaimed between swings of your blade.

“Simple enough.”

--

You and V split off from each other for bouts of time during those next two days, with Griffon typically being the one to find you and bring you to V’s location. It wasn’t always necessary though. Every once in a while a Nightmare would fall from the sky and obliterate everything as it crashed. One of those instances happened a little too close to you and loads of sharp and blunt objects alike assaulted you. You did not let V hear the end of it that day, much to his chagrin. There was a sense of delight that you (and Griffon) took in him apologizing so many times. You finally accepted one of the ‘I’m sorry’s in exchange for him cleaning up the wounds on your face. It wasn’t like you could see them to clean them, though it did make you feel a little shy to have him so delicately touching your face.

By the third day, you two had separated once again in search of food this time. Much of the city was already a.) raided or b.) destroyed. Finding food was no easy task. Only a short time ago, the group of you were eating normal food (albeit it was the cheapest available). Griffon squawked expletives while you and V made plans to cook and eat him one night. Your holy grail had been smashing machines or finding abandoned houses and restaurants. Unfortunately, they were growing farther and fewer. The search left you a great deal of time to introspect (for better or for worse). Your first thoughts wandered to your new companion V. He was generally mysterious, quiet, and level headed. But it was oh so entertaining when that facade dropped. Reveal something about yourself? V would readily offer information of the same importance about himself. Mention poetry? V could talk about it endlessly if there was the time. Griffon spewing random shit? V would get noticeably irate and even give the demonic crow a rap on the head. There were even times where you saw him smile without reservation. Every time he looked at you with that expression, you got fuzzy and warm and you couldn’t help but reciprocate.

Which brought you to your next line of thought, who was he to you and what were you to him. At the very least, you felt him to be your friend--your very first friend, in fact. You had never spent time with anyone but your mother, yet falling into comfort with him was… simple enough. Even physical touch between the two of you never felt threatening. It was the opposite, it made you feel warm. 

V could be fragile at times, and you were fiercely protective of him. While you didn’t voice the concern (it’d surely make him feel inept), you were hesitant to let him split from you. You wanted to always be with him and keep him safe. Your eyes wandered to your ring of blue opal and dark metal. It was your most precious treasure and your curse. Much of your energy was imbued within it, and a decent chunk of that energy was being transferred to V whose body just couldn’t seem to heal itself. Should I bestow it to him?

It was a sure way to make sure he didn’t crumble to pieces while you were apart. But if something were to happen to it, if it were to break… you were dead. You shook away the thought, you knew you could trust V. Especially if you explained the why’s and the how’s of it. You were certain he wouldn’t hurt or betray you, and you knew V was confident in you doing the same. You had a feeling he had also never had someone to call a friend, but you hoped he was willing to call you one. Surprisingly, you pouted and shook your head at the thought. 

It was at that moment that you realized that perhaps you had a bit of a crush. You had never had one, so perhaps you were wrong, but the ache in your chest made you doubtful. From the moment you saw V, you thought he was cute--wavy black hair, tattoos, and an aloof expression. 

His deep green eyes were another feature you could stare at. Ah shit, I think he’s hot. Despite being alone, your face flushed as you understood that you liked him. Or as a child would say, like-like him. 

But was it reciprocated? The answer to that question was uncertain. Unlike your physical reactions, V didn’t appear to ever be flustered by you; however, he didn’t mind you touching him or being close at night. But was that just him thinking it was a means for survival? Regardless of his feelings, you had to debate whether or not to share your own. You were both grown adults, and you were sure you could take rejection. And so it appeared there was nothing to lose. Perhaps you could test the waters first by giving him the ring. It was all such a mundane, human experience.

You groaned dramatically. “This fucking sucks, man,” you complained despite there being no one around on your search. Not even a demon lurked about, strangely enough. What was even more unfortunate was the lack of any sustenance in the entire area you were assigned to search. Hopefully V and Griffon had more luck. It would be incredibly lame to die to starvation instead of fighting. As if they knew your search was over, you felt the tremors of Nightmare crashing somewhere in the city, and the plume of dust and debris indicated where they would be. It was time to reunite, and so you pushed away any childish, lovey-dovey thoughts to the back of your mind to be discussed later. 

Luckily, you had divine-like stamina, so it wasn't too long or hard of a sprint to make it to them. The location appeared to be a now destroyed grocery store with a mass of demon carcasses lying around. "Uh, what happened here?"

"V here smashed the whole fucking store to get rid of the demons! And all the food with them! There's nothing here! Nada! Zilch! None!" Griffon appeared to be pissed to say the least. "All that's left to eat is these demons!"

You grimaced at the thought. "That's all there is," you asked, hoping it was a mere jest on Griffon's part. 

"Sadly," V turned around, blood smeared on his mouth. Your lips stretched into a frown. 

"I already warned V that he may get the shits!"

After a moment of silence, you sighed. "If this is all there is, this is all there is." Your eyes locked onto the biggest body. "How do we plan to transport this? Cause I am not willing to stay here, and I'll drag you away from it too if I must." 

"Hah," V let out a brief laugh, reminding you of your previous thoughts. Ugh. "I was thinking we would all work together--you and I, Shadow, and Griffon." 

You began to pick up a squishy, bloody demon's body. "Let's get a move on then."

"I still think you guys are gross, just so you know," the demon pointed out. 

"Thanks Griff, I appreciate your kindness and concern," you rolled your eyes. 

The group embarked on a new adventure--finding somewhere closer to sleep for the night. On the way, Griffon informed you that V saved a mother and child trapped in the store. The man seemed displeased about being outed but you just smiled. It was sweet and you wondered why he did so  was it simply convenient, or did he care? You sniffed around before pulling V by the hand. "There's no demons right nearby." It was a secluded courtyard with a fountain in the middle. For now, it was safe, but you pulled out sheets of paper and began to scrawl on them in case. You knew V was looking at you inquisitively. "They're wards," you explained. "They won't forever, but they will for the night and morning at least." He nodded in gratitude. "How about we have Shadow butcher these bodies outside of the little area though? Can you do that girlie," you scratched her behind the ears, and as she took bodies outside the area, you were sure she understood. 

"We could try cooking them," V offered. "I doubt that that would make them any worse."

"Let's do it," you agreed. "Think you can start gathering sticks while I put these up?" You motioned to the sheets of paper. 

"Of course," he got up and began searching while you slapped wards around each pillar. You wished you would be able to enjoy the nicer  change of venue, but it was hard to do so when you remembered the food that awaited you. And those pesky feelings. But you were a big girl, and the show must go on. 

In a short period of time, sticks were gathered, Griffon created fire by shocking them, Shadow returned with pieces of the meat, and it was cooking (and emitting an off-putting smell). You and V stabbed sticks through them once they were done and took a bite.

“So how’s the roasted meat?” Griffon asked, flapping around. 

“Absolutely vile.”

You chimed in in agreement. “I’ve had to survive on some lowly, near inedible things, but holy shit,” you held back the tears that pricked your eyes, “this is the worst thing I have ever eaten.” 

“Ungrateful! Both of you!” The demon pecked your head. “What the hell were you even expecting?!”

“Something similar to fried chicken,” V wished gloomily, which Griffon found to be absolute insanity. You giggled, they were a funny pair. You and V choked down as much meat as you could before tossing the scraps to Shadow. She purred in delight while munching. The crow complained and yelled at Shadow to not eat up all of you and V’s food, eliciting a growl. “You two are causing quite the ruckus.”

“You trying to piss me off?!” 

“No. It’s just,” V paused, “I have a strange feeling.” In the next breath, Griffon dug his talons into V’s shirt and dumped him into the fountain. 

He cackled at V, telling him to wash the stink off and strip down. While V scowled at being dumped suddenly, he appeared to agree with needing a bath.

“Gotta agree with the bird,” you smiled at him. “Just leave your clothes on the edge whenever you’re done, and I’ll help take care of them.” You added with a wink, “Don’t worry, I won’t peak.” 

“Don’t think it matters either way,” V chuckled, and you punched him in the shoulder as he untied his top. You turned around with a smile and blush. The sound of wet clothes plopping next to you happened shortly after. 

“Alrighty gang,” you turned to Shadow and Griffon, “let’s try to dry these up. Especially you,” you pointed at the bird, “Since you soaked them and all.” 

V spoke up from behind, “Just get them dry before my skin gets all wrinkly from the water.”

“Don’t tell me what to do!” Griffon then turned back to the cat, “Wring it out, dammit!”

“Let’s put it over the fire,” you suggested after getting the excess water out. 

You didn’t sit there long before you a “What the fuck!” from Griffon. You turned around to see him pulling V by the arm out of the water. “Hey, hey, hey! The moment I look away you start drowning? Are you a fucking infant?!” You couldn’t help but laugh at the insult. Griffon cooed in baby speech as he brought V his clothes.

“I’d barely call these dry.”

“Sorry,”  you shrugged. “I can only work so hard to clean up the mess of this chatterbox right here.”

“Well, as long as it’s wearable, anything goes,” V spoke softly as you assumed him to be getting dressed.

“If only we had the luxury of a towel.” As V came to sit back down near the fire, a sigh passed from your lips, “I should probably rinse off my clothes and bathe as well,” you started with unraveling your bandages--bloodied by now. The rest of your clothes came off soon after. V kept his gaze forward to give you a bit of privacy; Griffon however pressed you with questions.

“What’s that big ol’ tattoo on your back?” He perched on the stone in front of you.

“It’s a blooming lotus with the light of a full moon above it,” you described. “My mother gave it to me as a child. Said it was of religious importance and it would complete me.”

“Hehhh? What the hell does that mean?” He tilted his head.

“I have theories, but never questioned it. I agreed with whatever to get the rituals and experiments over with,” you mumbled uncomfortably. You placed your foot in the water and shivered, it was cold and you did not relish the thought of immersing your whole body. “But that’s enough free information for now,” you said, finally getting inside the fountain. While the chill wasn’t nice, knowing that you’d be semi-clean afterwards was a comfort. You looked to V quietly reading his book and pondered if this was the moment to admit your feelings. It may be a little less embarrassing for him to not see your expression and for you to not see his, after all. 

Timidly, you took off your ring and moved up right behind him. “Here,” you put it in front of his face.

“Your ring?” He questioned. “Do you need me to hold onto it while you are in the water?” V opened his palm for you to drop the ring in, which you did. “Nope, it’s yours now.” You added, “If you are okay accepting it of course…”

Unexpectedly, he turned his head to look at your face. “Why would you give this to me? Don’t you need it for survival?” His face scrunched, clearly concerned and hesitant.

“Well,” you began, “I trust you with it, and it will help keep you safe when I can’t be there.” V made a strange face you couldn’t discern. “This way, wherever you go, I’ll always be with you,” you smiled.

His green eyes stared at the ring, but he finally closed his hand. “I don’t understand you,” he admitted. “Why do you care to help me so much? You have since you met me. Even amongst all the insanity and information I have omitted, you have stuck by my side. And now you wish to give me a piece of you.” V’s face scrunched. “Why?”

Your stomach flopped. “Well, it’s because I like you of course.”

#v/reader #v x reader #v/you #v x you #dmc vitale #dmc v #dmc 5 #devil may cry #V #vitale #devil may cry 5 #female reader #multichapter #slowburn #also posted on ao3 #find me on ao3 at Adagium (ghuoligans) #ghuoligans #fanfiction #self insert #feedback is appreciated <3 #side by side