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sihtricfedaraaahvicius · 10 months

Note

Hey I live you stories. You are the only one giving me the Eihtric that I need. I had an idea that this could be during Skmd since Sihtric is gone scouting and stuff all the time when he comes back his wife is sad and thinks he doesn't want her anymore since their kids are gone and they have aged. I need regular domestic life since they have us nothing.

Warnings: mention of violence, child death, and overall my bad comedy attempt?

Pairing: Sihtric x you (f)

Summary: Sihtric was scouting the lands day and night during times of peace, making you wonder why. Maybe he simply didn't want to be around you anymore, and maybe your marriage was perhaps falling apart.

Word count: 2.6k

Note: first of all: thank you so much!!! and second; you didn't give me a whooole lot to work with, so I just followed my trail of thoughts! And honestly? I need this to be a bonus episode. also, fun fact: I had written 5 pages before I wrote this one, but the other fic was incredibly heavy and depressing and I wanted to share something lighter. The other one is not finished, and never will be I guess, but I may post it at some point if I feel the need for sadness :)

taglist: @clairacassidy @finanmoghra @uunotheangel @hb8301 @bathedinheat @neonhairspray @anaeve @bubblyabs @travelingmypassion @sylas-the-grim @heimtathurs @bubbles-for-all-of-us @andakth

'I think he is still stuck, lord.'

****************

Sihtric had been quietly watching you for minutes, unbeknownst to you, while he was seated at the wooden diner table, where he took place after he had returned from yet another day of scouting the lands. He watched your back as you were preparing dinner, softly smiling at your figure and your movements as you did so, which he loved so much. But Sihtric's faint smile quickly made place for his signature brooding look, when he got a glimpse of your face. Your beautiful face, Sihtric thought, was taunted by a certain sadness and it had been so for days already. But you never mentioned anything, so Sihtric felt it was best to give you some space. He worried that you were mourning again, and rightfully if so.

Shortly after Uhtred had reclaimed Bebbanburg, thus bringing peace to the surrounding lands, Sihtric became the Lord of Dunholm on his own accord. You and your children had moved with your beloved husband to Dunholm, where you had lived happily for some years. Until one day Death arrived, disguised as a horrible sickness, taking your children quietly in the night after weeks of struggle. It had been a grave loss, leaving you and Sihtric heartbroken for years. Slowly but surely you both managed to move on and tried to find your way in life again. You had mainly good days now, but Sihtric also knew you still had bad days. And as the death day of your children was approaching, he could understand your sadness. However, it had been many years ago now, and the past few years you had been dealing well around this time of the year. So he feared something else might be at play, but he didn't know what.

Sihtric sighed as he looked at you, licking his lips and brushing one hand through his shoulder length loose, dark and wavy hair before he got up. He walked over to you, but took a step back again, doubting if he should approach you the way he wanted to. Sihtric wanted nothing more than to pull you in his arms, pick you up and spin you around, making you giggle like you always would when he did so. But he felt it was wrong of him to do today, he did not want you to think he was blind to your sadness. He stepped closer again, and another two steps back, almost anxiously biting his lip before his love for you took over, forcing his feet closer to you and causing him to sneak his arms around your waist from behind. He did it gently, not wanting to startle you, and when he felt you allowed his touch he leaned his cheek against your temple.

'My love,' Sihtric said. His voice was soft, smooth and deep, as usual, still making your heart flutter whenever you heard his accent. 'What troubles you?'

You sighed quietly, closing your eyes and just enjoying his embrace for a moment before you turned around and tried to speak.

'D-do you not love me anymore?' you looked up at him with big, sad and frightened eyes.

Sihtric looked down at you in his arms, confusion and worry in his duo coloured eyes as a frown slowly appeared.

'What makes you ask such a thing?'

'Do I… do I bore you?' you stammered, worried, 'have I not aged to your liking? Can I not please you anymore? H-have you… h-have y-you found some-someone else?'

Sihtric's eyes darted over your face, shaking his head faster with each question you asked.

'No,' he said calmly yet concerned, 'my love, never. No.' He paused, trying to find the right words while he took your face in his hands. 'You could never bore me,' he whispered, 'for no one is so full of life as you, and no one could ever make me laugh like you do. And no one is as beautiful as you, no one, my love. No one. I swear it,' Sihtric touched his Mjölnir pendant quickly, 'and if you fear your beauty is leaving you as age comes, then what on earth is to become of me, sweetling? I already am an ugly bastard now, imagine me in 10 years,' he smiled softly and his heart skipped a beat when he saw you chuckle lightly.

'Sihtric,' you whispered with a soft smile, 'you become even more handsome with age, don't be foolish,' you rolled your eyes at the stunning man you had married, 'in case you don't believe me, go outside, and see how every woman in Dunholm looks over her shoulder as you walk by, Lord,' you smiled shyly.

'Is that so, my love?' Sihtric smiled cheekily, 'well, then perhaps, as a Lord, should I make a public announcement? Should I gather all the women at the town's square?' He tilted his head playfully to the side as he pulled you closer. 'And make it known to every lady in Dunholm how well my wife pleases me?' he gave you a sly smile, 'should I tell them that my beautiful wife pleases me so well that, ever since I've met her, I never had any reason nor desire to let my eyes or my thoughts wander to another?'

You smiled shyly and directed your eyes away from his and down to his broad chest, looking at the hammer pendant which rested upon his dark tunic, remembering how the gods had truly favoured you for they had given you Sihtric.

'No,' you giggled softly.

'No?' Sihtric's tone became mischievous as he nuzzled your nose lovingly, 'then perhaps, instead of a boring talk, maybe should we demonstrate it?'

'Sihtric!' you laughed and slapped his chest.

'My love,' Sihtric chuckled still, taking your hands in his and placing them onto his chest, on his heart, and he became serious again, 'what makes you think such foolish thoughts?'

'You are just barely home anymore,' you admitted, 'all you do these days is go out and scout the lands, and some nights you don't even come home. Only to show up the next day with a few bruises on your face. And… you braid your hair too, when there is no battle. I don't know where you go, what you do or where you sleep. Or with… with whom you share a bed,' you said quietly.

'You are the only one I share a bed with, I swear it,' he touched his pendant again, 'and you are the only one I wish to share a bed with. But it is true,' Sihtric continued, 'I am away from home a lot. And I apologise for that, I never meant to give you any doubt about my love for you. It is just that…' Sihtric paused and looked up, carefully considering his words for once, 'I- I am struggling.'

'Why? With what?' you asked, your fingers curling around the neck of his tunic to draw him in, 'tell me.'

'I scout the lands so often because I hope to find trouble,' he placed his hands on your waist as he admitted his reasoning.

'Trouble? I don't understand. I-I thought the lands are at peace. What kind of trouble?'

'Any kind,' he scoffed lightly, knowing how foolish he was sounding right now, 'but I mainly hope to find someone to fight. Anyone. I picked a fight with a farmer near Bebbanburg last week.'

'What?'

'I miss the battles, my love,' he sighed, resting his forehead against yours as he continued, 'yes, the lands are at peace. And yes, it is what I always fought for. But now… I don't know what to do with myself. I miss the bloodshed, the adrenaline, the victory. I miss the sound of swords and axe blades crashing on wooden shields. I miss the feeling of swinging an axe into a man's skull and…' Sihtric looked up at you as he spoke, and stopped immediately when he saw your grimace, 'I'm sorry,' he whispered, feeling awkward for oversharing.

'No, I understand,' you cupped his cheeks, 'I do, my love. I know how eager you always were to fight. And it was a life you were simply used to and were raised to love. But there have to be other ways to deal with this than picking fights with… with farmers?'

'I am not proud of it either,' he rolled his eyes before he looked at you again, 'but that is the reason I sometimes come home with bruises.'

'And what is the reason you stay out all night?'

Sihtric stared at you, intensely, and he shrugged slightly. Like a little boy who wouldn't admit he drank all of dad's ale.

'Sihtric,' you said sternly, raising an eyebrow, 'where do you sleep if not in our bed?'

'In the woods,' he mumbled.

'What?'

'In the woods,' he said louder, ashamed.

'My dearest,' you scoffed, 'why, by the gods, do you sleep in the woods?'

'Because that was the way we slept when we'd battle. Sometimes in barns too.'

'Gods,' you sighed, 'but you sleep alone then I hope?'

'Sometimes,' he mumbled again, but you heard him loud and clear.

'Sometimes?' you snapped, 'then who is it who sleeps with you sometimes?'

'Finan,' Sihtric said, looking guilty for ratting out his best friend.

'Finan?' you stared at Sihtric, the gorgeous but absolute fool of a man you had married, 'Finan sleeps outside in the woods or in barns with you? And what else? He watches you pick fights? He riles you up? Making you do stupid things?'

'No, we pick fights together.'

'Oh,' you feigned to be impressed, 'two previous warriors picking fights around peaceful lands with poor farmers.'

'We are still warriors!' Sihtric said, offended, 'and we don't always pick fights with farmers!'

'Of course not, how silly of me, my dear, who else do you fight on your little play pretend stake outs?'

Sihtric mumbled something inaudible.

'Sihtric?' you said sternly again, 'speak up.'

'I said sometimes we just fight each other.'

You looked at him for a while, at a complete loss for words.

'Does Ingrith know?'

'No,' Sihtric looked down at his feet.

'Does Uhtred know you and Finan are riling up people in peaceful lands?'

'No,' he mumbled.

'Well then I think it is time we visit Bebbanburg, don't you agree, lord?'

******************

Sihtric had been acting like a man child the entire journey to Bebbanburg. He dragged his feet into the fortress behind you and followed you up to Uhtred's hall.

Uhtred's face lit up when he saw you, and he came running to give you a hug.

'Is Sihtric treating you well?' he smiled.

'Well enough,' you winked.

'You look well, that makes me happy,' Uhtred said ever so kindly.

When you glanced over Uhtred's shoulder you saw Finan, who smiled at you as he always did, but you gave a mean stare to which he frowned.

'Sihtric,' Uhtred said sternly when he saw your husband trying to hide behind you, 'what is it I hear of a rumour that a man with your description has been taunting a farmer on my land?'

'My, of what do you speak? It surely cannot be,' you gasped overdramatically and looked at Sihtric, who wouldn't look anyone in the eye but Finan. And Finan, by hearing the tone in your voice, knew you were there for a reason he'd rather not find out. So he quietly grabbed his cup of ale and snuck away from the table when you and Uhtred had your back turned to him.

'I do not know what you speak of, lord,' Sihtric lied, his eyes darting between you, Uhtred and his own feet. But he felt pressured, and he could not lie to Uhtred and neither to you.

'Sihtric?' Uhtred said threateningly.

'It was Finan, lord!' Sihtric said quickly, which caused a loud thump behind you. You and Uhtred turned around to see Finan crouched down behind the table, as he had tried to silently sneak away but had bumped into a chair.

'What of my husband?' Ingrith asked, having heard Sihtric as she had walked in.

'Ingrith,' you smiled, and greeted her with a hug.

'Finan taunted the farmer?' Uhtred frowned and looked back at Sihtric.

'No! No, he did not!' the Irish man was quick to defend himself.

'He what?' Ingrith asked, confused.

'Sihtric?' Uhtred said again, 'tell me the truth, now!'

'Finan, lord,' Sihtric spoke faster than he could think, 'we scout the lands together often and one evening we had too much to drink and we found a farmer, who- who… we just wanted to fight. We wanted to battle so we, I… I said I had come to reclaim land and his… his chickens.'

'And his baby goat!' Finan said.

'And his baby goat, yes,' Sihtric admitted, 'and so we waited… you know, with- with his chickens.'

'Aye, and the baby goat.'

'And the baby goat, yes. We waited just outside his fence until he would fight us. But- but he didn't. Well, not really, not that I remember.'

'Lord,' Finan said, 'the farmer had hit Sihtric over the head with a pitchfork. So I pushed the farmer into the pig's shed, and I locked it.'

'I think he is still stuck, lord,' Sihtric said.

'Aye, the poor bastard might be.'

'What happened to the animals?' Uhtred asked.

Sihtric and Finan looked at each other. Sihtric opened his mouth to speak while Finan gave him a warning and shook his head.

'Finan took the chickens, lord,' Sihtric said quickly, 'I have the baby goat in Dunholm.'

'Ya bastard!' Finan yelled.

'The chickens?' Ingrith asked, 'the chickens you said you had rescued?'

'Aye,' Finan coughed.

'And I assume this is the same baby goat you told me you had rescued?' you asked Sihtric.

'Could be,' he mumbled.

Uhtred looked at Finan, then at Sihtric, then at Ingrith, then at you, and then at his own feet as he placed his hands on his hips. He scoffed, then he chuckled and then he bursted out in laughter and walked out of the hall.

You told Ingrith everything Sihtric had told you, to which she told Finan off and thanked you for making her understand where her husband went all the time. And you told her you had the same problem with Sihtric. Uhtred came back later, hearing you and Ingrith out, and he forbade the men to taunt innocent people again, but they were free to fight each other. Which you and Ingrith did not agree with, but Uhtred did not care, then he told the men they should hump their wives more and laughed again as he left.

***************

It was already late when you had arrived in Bebbanburg, so Uhtred gave you and Sihtric a place to stay before you were to travel back again by morning.

'You never change, do you?' you smiled at Sihtric, who was taking off his clothes to join you in bed.

'I fear not,' Sihtric smiled, after you had told him off for his behaviour, but knowing you also loved that side of him, which you would never admit.

You watched as he got in bed and climbed on top of you, enjoying the sight of your husband's muscular body above you. He leaned in to kiss you softly and your hands trailed over his chest without hesitation.

'Now,' Sihtric smiled as your noses touched, 'I'd like to be pleased by my wife.'

'Oh,' you teased, 'I don't know about that. You haven't behaved man enough lately for such things, have you? You have behaved rather boyish. And here I thought my husband was a lord,' you shrugged.

'That is what you think?' Sihtric asked, sitting back up as he looked down at you, 'have I not been man enough for you?'

You crossed your arms, looking unimpressed and sighed as if bored.

'Okay,' Sihtric chuckled, pulling you up by your hands and mounting you on top of him as he laid down on his back, 'then perhaps the Lady of Dunholm should remind the lord how he needs to behave.'

#sihtric x reader #sihtric x you #the last kingdom fic #sihtric fic #sihtric kjartansson #the last kingdom #sihtric #tlk

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viidemoo · 9 months

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Just letting you know your anon asks are turned off!!

Besides that, maybe some headcanons for Michael ( 1978 is good but 2018 version would be ++++ ) stalking a potential victim that actually- for some weird reason- is infatuated with him? Like, they have pictures of him from newspapers and the internet taped onto their bedroom walls, write about him in their journal, etc.

BTW I feel like I have to say that I don't agree with people that do this with real-life serial killers because that's fucked up it's just a fictional idea 💀

Not what he was expecting..

An: tysm for letting me know! Sadly I haven’t seen the 2018 Halloween yet but you could probably interpret this as any Michael you want. There’s not gonna be any like “relationship” stuff in this btw! And not proof read cause I’m lazy asf 😛

You were just like any other victim. There was nothing too special about you, just an average person. He did the same thing with you as everyone he had killed in the past. Watched you walk care-free down the street, look around for a quick second, then go into your home and lock the door.

He waited a few minutes before walking around your house before welcoming himself in threw your back door. He looked around and saw nobody; however, he did hear the sound of water running. You had gotten in the shower as soon as you had gotten home.

Seeing as he had nobody else he planned on killing today, he decided to wait this one out. Let you relax in the shower, then kill you when you entered your room. A pretty simple plan he had done many times before.

As he walked down the hallway, he saw one door slightly open, your room. Well that was easy to find. He placed him hand on the door as pushed it open lightly.

To say he was put off guard as an understatement.

You had a whole wall dedicated to the killer. Articles, cutouts, you name it he saw it. Michael was not an easy man to startle. But you managed to do it.

Michael wasn’t fully sure what to do. Did he continue to look around? Did he leave? Did he just kill you now?

He went with the first option, he had never seen anything like this before so why not investigate a little bit.

As his eyes scanned the room they landed on a propped up notebook, with the words “ Micheal M.” Written on the cover. Carefully he walked over and picked up the book. He flipped it open to a random page and read,

“A new article came out today about Michael. He killed 5 people last Saturday. I know most people would be and are totally freaked out and scared by this but it’s honestly kinda cool. Like how does he do these horrible crimes and NEVER get caught?? (Ngl he’s probably cute under that mask)”

Michaels eyebrows were furrowed and mouth was slightly open. What in the world. Michael had never seen someone who wasn’t afraid of him, let alone thought he was cool and cute. Just when he was trying to gather his thoughts the water shut off. He threw the book back on desk where he had found it and quickly left the house.

He’d come back later and kill you…maybe.

#micheal myers #halloween #halloween 1978 #halloween 2018 #Michael myers x reader #michael myers x you #slasher #slasher x reader

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beautifulfuckup99 · 7 months

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Do you only do BTS? Because I would love a plus-size doc, why choose with Namjoon, Bangchan and Seongwha 🫠🫠🫠

For you, babes, I'm gonna make it a preference of sorts. Hope you like it!

Title: My Girl

Warning(s): Body image issues, hints of ED: Count!ng Calor!es, nut also all-around fluff...

Author's Note: I'm sure this isn't what was wanted, but trust me, it's needed. Lol.

*******************************************

Namjoon:

Breathing in through your nose filled your lungs with the fresh pine scented air of the park you and Namjoon had walked to for a random, mid-day picnic. The scenery was a calm and quiet one. Ducks floating on by in the pond right in front of you, birds flying through the sky over you, and not a single person in sight. You two had gone far enough into the field of the park that you were basically alone. With a soft sigh of contentment, Namjoon set his book down. "I could sleep here." He notes, voice as deep as the body of water in front of you. You eye your boyfriend as he fixes his beanie before laying back, head going to your thighs. You instantly stiffen in slight embarrassment. You could never help it. You knew your body and you knew how it looked. And you knew your handsome boyfriend could always find better. And you knew this angle wasn't flattering at all. "Joonie..." You mutter as you cover his face with your hand as he tries looking up at you. "What?" He chuckles. "Stop that, Y/N. I wanna see you." He smiles as he moves his face from under your palm to smirk up at you before nuzzling more into your thighs. "Like my own personal pillow." He teases and you swat lightly at his broad shoulder. "What? You are!" He laughs. "Not funny. My fat thighs aren't your pillows." You snort and he turns his head to kiss your bare thigh that was only on display because Namjoon begged you to wear a sundress he'd bought for you weeks ago as a 'just because' present. "Yes, they are. I have commanded it..." He smirks. "And don't call them fat." He says as he gives you a look. "I love your thighs, baby." He adds softly, turning his head to kiss your bare skin again, making you blush harder and swat lightly at his arm as he laughs before looking up at you. "Let's start packing up." You say gently after a bit of resting in the silence. Namjoon playfully groans before sitting up to start putting the leftovers back in the basket. You collect the books to put back in your bag but pause whenyou're overcome with the urge to peak in on what Namjoon had been reading these past few days. He must be learning something new because he's been damn near obsessed with this book. You skim the pages for context clues as to what his nose has been buried in and pause as you spot a sentence that has been highlighted. 'The skill of observing is just that: Instead of focusing on the body, have them focus on everything and anything else around them. Mindful breathing is wonderful in that you can do it anytime, anywhere. Focus your attention completely on the new of life, thereby reducing the focus on negative thoughts they may have. And show patience when those thoughts occur anyway'. You blink a bit, slightly confused until you see Namjoon's usual scribbled handwriting next to that paragraph in particular. Little phrases shaped as ideas written a pen, saying things like 'More dates?', 'More traveling?', 'Nature. She likes nature...', 'Quiet. Give her quiet.'. You feel your heartbeat quicken as you silently flip to the front cover of the book since Namjoon had taken off the sleeve of the book. The title is called "Cognitive-Behavioral Therapy: Loving Insecurities". You slowly look over at your boyfriend who was folding up the blanket you two had been laying on, none the wiser to your findings. Your boyfriend who you've only had the honor of calling your boyfriend for 5 months. Your boyfriend who's decided to spend his time off reading up on how to love you better. You slowly walk over to him as he speaks softly about getting ice cream and place a hand on his shoulder to pull him down to your level, kissing his lips softly. He's surprised, but quickly kisses back. You pull away slowly and smile. "I'd love ice cream." You say gently as you stroke his soft skin with the pad of your thumb. He smiles bashfully and nods. "Then let's go..." He says as he finishes packing up.

Bangchan:

"Oh, that's so pretty..." You say as you hold your boyfriend's hand as you stare up at the window display that showed a mannequin wearing a beautiful red, thinned-strapped, sweetheart-lined dress. Going out was a rarity with how busy you two had been lately, but you were enjoying this peaceful moment of mindlessly window shopping. And you knew even though Bangchan would rather be resting lazily at home, he was allowing himself to be dragged around all for your happiness. "Wanna head inside?" The five-foot-seven Korean man asks softly, and it makes you eye the rest of the store. "Nah. Nothing there would fit me. God, if I had that body type..." You sigh as you eye the mannequin, making Bangchan nudge you playfully. "You wanna be headless and plastic?" He asks as he eyes you oddly and you laugh softly. "Yup. The embodiment of beauty." You play along before you continue walking, pulling him along effortlessly. "Well, I for one, like how you are now." He states simply and you chuckle a bit. "Yeah, yeah." You mutter. "What? It's true." He defends lightly as he softly swings your entwined hands back and forth as you two walk through the shopping center. "Okay, sure. Cause it's not like you're my boyfriend who'll be in the doghouse if you say otherwise..." You tease and he laughs softly before kissing your hand tenderly. A full week goes by and as you lay in bed, one night, scrolling through your phone, Bangchan walks into the bedroom of your cozy loft. "Mail." He says as casually as he can master, which for him is an average tone. You look up from your phone and see the box he'd laid out on the edge of the bed for you. "And... What's this?" You ask as you slowly sit up, watching as your boyfriend gets more comfortable on his side of the bed. He gives a slight shrug before watching you the way a child watches their parent open a gift from them. His eyes giving away his emotion like always. The excitement was clear in those eyes. You hum and grab some scissors from your nightstand. You open the box and freeze as you see the same dress that you had stared at through the shop window that day, only it was your size. "How...?" You stop your questioning and look at your boyfriend in shock. "You are the embodiment of beauty, babe." He says in a soft voice as he watches you closely. You feel your face heat up and turn back to the box. You pull the dress out and see it's the exact same one, just as perfect as when you spotted it that day. "How did you even find this?" You ask in awe as you scrunch your nose in pure delighted confusion. You hadn't been able to get this damn clothing item off your mind since that day, and now here it was. Right in front of you, in your grasp and it looked even more beautiful in person. The plus size sections here in Korea weren't as... widely selective as they were in the US. You'd gotten used to seeing a gorgeous clothing item in a store and putting it back on the rack when you saw it wasn't in your size. "I ordered it online. I wasn't gonna watch you give up something you want badly because the store doesn't have your size. That's dumb." He shrugs as you set the dress down and move over to hug and kiss him while he playfully groans like it's killing him. But you see the tips of his ears turn pink at your affection. "You're amazing..." You whisper with a giggle before kissing his lips firmly as he laughs. "Well? What are you waiting for? Try it on!" He says and you giggle excitedly before jumping out of bed and running to the bathroom with the dress in your tight grasp.

*********************************************

Running out of space, but I will be posting part 2! So, if you're a Seongwha stan, then... Stay tuned!

#bts fic #bts army #bts imagine #bts namjoon #kim namjoon #namjoon imagine #namjoon fanfic #namjoon x reader #bang chan #bang chan x reader #bang chan fluff #bang chan imagines #bangchan skz

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keets-writing-corner · 20 days

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I read the lucilith thing you wrote. Holy shit. It took all day, and there's only two fucking chapters but it took all day.

I've never read anything that felt so "canon," that's the only way i can put it. It felt just like it was written into the script of a far away season in the actual show.

You're insane at writing bro. I don't rlly know much abt you but I was able to find this blog and I js wanted to let you know (hope you find this ig) how fucking good that story is.

Can't wait for chapter 3.

If I had time to draw rn I'd be drawing a huge bearhug to the anon symbol, maybe later today tho?👀

[obligatory link to fic if any followers of mine have missed it]

Anon this is THE BEST start to my day! WTF THANK YOU SO SO MUCH! It warms my heart that people like you are enjoying my writing so much!

Yeah I... have a bad habit of making projects way to big for my own good. I JUST HAVE SO MANY IDEAS DAMMIT in the past I've solved that issue by going, "this fic can only have x amount of chapters" and that's worked. This time I told myself only 5, and my brain just went "but no word limit right?" and now it's starting to look like each chapter is going to be 20-30k words 💀 and each one is taking me about a month to complete... I actually started writing chapter 1 end of january, start of february and I only posted it end of february. Chapter 2 similar thing... BUT so many people are really enjoying it! So it's worth it right?

hey

you

come closer

you want a sneak peek of 3? This is about a page into the start

__________

High pitched ringing was all Lilith could perceive at first. Eventually, as time passed, she became aware of more things. The air smelled foul. She was laying atop something soft, but underneath the soft layer was the hardest rock she’d ever felt. As far as sounds, it seemed like there was a faint rumbling in the distance, but nothing extravagant.

Blearily, she managed to open her eyes.

Lilith was face to face with Lucifer who seemed to be unconscious, just as she had been moments ago. The soft layer she was on was his wing, with another one lying limp on top of her.

She sat up slowly, groaning. Her body ached and her joints felt sore. The wings that were on top of her, slid off.

There was something grey drifting down from the sky, and apparently, she and Lucifer had been laying there long enough that a thin layer of it had started to build up on them. Well, mostly Lucifer. Up until now, she had been safely shielded by his wings.

Lilith gave him a nudge, “Lu, wake up,” she told him before moving to stand herself.

The sky was a deep blood red. Any clouds that formed were either grey or black. The ground too, the harsh rocky terrain she and Lucifer were on was also a dark grey. It was now that she realized, she and Lucifer were dead center in a crater of sorts.

That’s when the previous events all rushed back to her. Heaven attacked them and cast them down into, what was it the elders called it? Hell? Lucifer desperately shielded and protected her from the vicious onslaught and then from the impact of the fall itself.

Now with the full context, Lilith rushed back to Lucifer who still remained on the ground, “Lu?!” Lilith pushed back the wings that were covering his body, and unveiled multiple wounds from heaven’s attack. The blood had long since dried, and Lilith realized she too was covered in Lucifer’s blood. His wings were also covered in his blood as heaven viciously skewered them to prevent him from flying back out. His once flowing robes were all but tatters barely clinging to his form.

Panic now fully setting in as she realized he looked even worse than when he had fallen from heaven and wasn’t even stirring, not even a little. She couldn’t even hear him breathe raspy breaths like he had last time.

“Lu! Say something!” Lilith immediately cradled him.

His head immediately rolled back limply as she pulled him to her. Lilith needed to readjust her grip on him in order for his head to lean against her torso gently.

He had protected her… From everything. But the final blow had been the fall. If what little Lilith had experienced from the fall due to his protection had been enough to temporarily knock her unconscious and make her sore then… What must it have felt like to take the full brunt of it??

Tears began to build up in her eyes as she recalled him assuring her that she’d be okay. He had been unable to stop the crash, so he did everything he could to make sure she was going to be safe. Suddenly, it made sense why he had repositioned himself underneath her, to cushion her fall with his own body.

“Lu?!” she called again, “Lucifer!”

He remained still and unresponsive.

Lilith’s breath hitched in her throat. He couldn’t be- he wouldn’t- this couldn’t have… killed him???

Lilith pulled him tighter to her, choking back tears and shook with rage against heaven. Why push her and him into that crevice?? All this because he wanted to help her and Eve but that was against the rules apparently?? Weren’t they supposed to be good?! Weren’t they supposed to be kind?! And what could she have done while the elders attacked? She had been powerless to help! Worse… They used her to lure him into the hole. As Lilith held him and choked back sobs, it occurred to her that he still felt warm.

The faintest, slightest bit of hope fluttered in her, and she pulled away to get a better look at Lucifer. He still was completely still, and unresponsive but… maybe…

Lilith leaned her ear against his chest, hoping for what seemed to be the impossible.

Faintly.

Very

very

faintly

She could hear it. A heartbeat. Even fainter, she could hear a weak rattling breath from deep in his chest.

He was alive…

He was still alive!

Lilith pulled him into a hug, cupping the back of his head and holding him tightly. Her tears now weren’t from grief but relief. “You’re going to be okay,” she whispered to him, “It’s going to be okay…”

__________

anyways, this was an absolutely LOVELY start to my day ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ would love to talk to people about it if they want

thank you so much for coming to find me and leaving me this lovely comment!

#anon ask #hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #lucifer #lucilith #fan fic #COMPLIMENTS #ASHHHHHASFLKADSFKLMLK #THIS MADE ME SO HAPPY #At long last #my creative writing degree is fulfilling its true purpose #making people cry on the internet #jk #gonna be in such a good mood today #best thing to wake up to I swear

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patheticallyinfatuatedwithu · 1 year

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hello!! can i request a valentines day one shot with minji hehe also please don’t rush if you’re busy or anything <3 thank you

one hell of an admirer, kim minji

you weren't exactly the looker, or so you thought when you were met with letter and a rose inside your locker.

"hey, any plans for valentine's?" your friend asked, leaning over her chair and peering behind your back, eyes trailing on your page before going back to her seat and scribbling the answer. "no. you already know that."

the sound of her scribbling stopped, feeling her annoyed eyes on you before continuing to write. "that's so boring though, spending your time in the library then at a coffee shop. you want me to set you up with someone?"

you sighed, "no thank you. your picks are terrible. i'm still traumatised from that blind date. besides, valentine's isn't until next week." she chuckled, throwing her crumpled paper on your back and landing on the ground with a soft thud. "who cares! it's not that terrible! you still enjoyed it!"

"that was a lie."

"what the fuck?"

your fourth period has just ended, and as usual you walked to your locker to place your unnecessary books back when a letter and a rose had laid neatly on top of your books.

the person next to your locker sneaked a glance inside, a smile creeped up on her face. "oh my. wonder who put that there." you shook your head, grabbing the letter and the rose and handing it to her.

"take it back." she looked at you with amused eyes, "it's not mine." you hummed, "your tone intended it." she placed her hands up in defence. "it really isn't! you're free to take money from me when you 'prove' me wrong."

"i'll take you up on that." you replied, walking past her with the letter and rose in your hand as your admirer watched from afar.

well... holy fuck.

"how many letters have they sent you now?"

"ten. it increased in amount yesterday."

your friend laughs, almost falling off her seat as you slammed the envelopes on the table with a slam. "you read them yet?" you shook your head, placing your elbow on the table and head on your fist for support.

"well that's dumb. maybe there'll be a hint for who it is and you'll never know because you never read it." a sigh escaped your lips, tired eyes locking onto a letter and grabbing it before tearing it open gently.

well... holy fuck.

"kim minji?"

"yeah, kim minji."

arms and legs crossed, her eyes narrowed onto you as you looked at her with fire lit in your eyes. "all right, let's hear it." you smiled and pulled all of the letters you've received out of your bag and placed it on the table neatly, straigtening a folded corner of one letter before parting your lips.

"here, all of the letters she's sent started with each letters of her name." you lined the papers up with each other, and your friend's mouth came ajar. "holy fuck. she's like the talk of the school and if that letter's for real and it's not someone messing with you, you've got yourself a valentine!"

you sighed, "what if someone's messing with me though and i've been played the whole time?" you grazed your fingertips over the written paper that told you to meet her at the cafe 5 minutes away from the school, lips pressed in a thin line. "then that's that. but you have to at least see for yourself."

"see for myself?" she pointed a finger at your chest and lightly pushed you, "that someone's capable of liking you. that you're not as bad as you think you are."

you impatiently tapped your fingers on the wooden table, accidentally nudging the corner when you reached for your bag that sat on the side of your chair in hopes of at least doing your work while waiting for whoever it is that may pop out.

"here's your order." the boy had said, placing your choice of drink on the table before turning on his heel. he looked tired, based on the way his shoulders slumped when he walked away.

you started to work on your homework, and when you were close to finishing it, a shadow casted itself on you and a voice startled you out of your thoughts. "i'm hoping the chair in front of you is for me?"

there in all her grace stood kim minji, hopeful eyes and a smile on her lips enough to make your tongue stumble out words. "uh, yeah." you gestured at the seat, packing your things away. "please."

the same boy came back to the table, but this time, he seemed lively, a big smile plastered on his face as he looked at minji. "happy valentines day, anything you would like to order?"

as soon as minji opened her mouth, everything around you was drowned out and it seemed like time played in slow motion. you caught the way the boy's smile started to get bigger (if that was possible) the moment minji's voice reached his ear, how she tried to pull out her card to pay but the boy had beat her to it saying it's on the house and especially how, you knew she was way too good for you.

"are you alright there, y/n-ssi?" voice like honey brought you back to reality for the second time, eyelashes fluttering as you tried to gather your thoughts. "yes, uhm, i'm quite alright." you ran your tongue on your bottom lip, not missing the way her eyes flicked at it.

"anything you would like?" she asked, ready to call for the same boy the moment you reply yes. you shook your head, a small smile gracing your lips and minji was certain her heart stopped pumping blood. you gestured at your drink, "i still have this to finish."

she nodded in response, feeling her mouth dry up witnessing your smile and how you almost stammered talking to her. she couldn't help but think that she was the reason of that, that maybe she had made you uncomfortable or, just maybe, you were feeling the same feelings she does for you.

you acknowledged her lingering sight on your drink, pushing it to her with a larger smile. "you'd like some?" she nodded, her confidence slowly dissipating the more your velvety voice tickled her ear.

as you watched her place the cup to her lips, you couldn't help but flush when you noticed that she had placed her lips on the same spot you did, fingers scattered and head turned to the side in order to hide your reddened face.

"here's your order." the boy smiled, placing her drink on the table at the same time she placed yours back on the saucer with a clink. she flashed him a smile and he did the same. "enjoy."

as she took a sip of her drink, she placed it back down with a slight crease on her eyebrows, and you chuckled, minji almost choking when her brain registers what she has just heard. "i-is everything alright?"

"did he overdo the bitterness?" you queried and she nodded, and you pushed your drink back to her once again. "take mine. i'll drink yours so it doesn't go to waste."

she almost combusted there and then when your lips touched the same place as hers did like what she did earlier to your cup, swearing she fell again for you when she noticed you scrunch your nose in full revulsion before placing the cup down. "he really did overdo it." you chuckled.

minji knew that she has to talk about it sooner or later, and braced herself the moment she parted her lips. "the letters, did you mean it?" she closed her lips when she heard your voice, catching your eyes with a smile.

"yes." she replied, but it was almost hushed and gentle, just like then wind that kissed your skin elegantly that day which caused all of these feelings to surface. "but you're way too good for me. are you alright with settling for someone like me?"

minji felt her muscles tighten, why couldn't you see yourself the way she saw you? you were enough. hell, you're more than enough. "if i'm being honest, you're the one that's way out of my league. i saw those things you did for people, and don't you dare tell me that you're not enough. because you are. you really are. trust me."

you reached for her hand that held the cup's handle, tangling it with yours and smiling larger than you've ever had before. you gave it a light squeeze, bringing it up to your lips and giving it a kiss. "i'll make sure that you'll never be hurt in this relationship. because you had just made me see myself in a different light forever. be my valentines?"

she nodded, chuckling when she did. "i was supposed to be the one asking you that." you playfully stuck your tongue out on her, feeling your heart work faster than before seeing her smile whose brightness rivalled the sun's. "my bad."

broken records i'm so sorry anon this was supposed to be finished and posted at the 14th but i was srsly stumped on how to end this😭 IM SO SORRY PLEASE FORGIVE ME DKAJKAKZKKAQK

#kpop #kpop gg #wlw #kpop gg oneshots #kpop gg x reader #kpop x reader #new jeans x reader #new jeans #newjeans minji #newjeans #newjeans x reader #kim minji #kim minji x reader #minji #minji x reader

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wildlife4life · 8 months

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Fuck-it Friday

It is just past midnight where I reside, so that means its officially Friday. Normally I don't post till the sun is shining, but I am traveling today and visiting with family, so I won't have access to computer time till much much later.

Tagged by the always lovely @panbuckley, who posted a very steamy snippet. So I am going to continue this trend myself, or try to at least. Here is some very vague smut from NFL Buck.

Eddie is on the precipice of tipping over into orgasmic bliss, but a tight grip at the base of his cock, snaps him back. He cries out, "Buck please." Behind him with his own cock deep in Eddie's ass and lounging back on the dark blue sofa, Buck chuckles. Eddie feels the vibration of his delight more than he can hear it. "You didn't answer me." The younger man states. The hand not withholding Eddie's pleasure, hits the rewind button on a small black remote. The projected film in front of them reverses, pulling the figures of the players of the Chicago Bears and the Minnesota Vikings back to their pre-snap formations. "Two high safeties, 5 man rush, what should I call?" Buck repeats his earlier question with a swivel of his hips, grinding up against's Eddie's prostate. A whimper is pulled from him and Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, relishing the stimulating euphoria mixed with the pain of being held at the edge. The warm plastic of the remote is dropped on his thigh and Eddie can't hold down a moan of appreciation as Buck grips his hair, yanking his head back. "I told you to keep your eyes open. Don't want to miss anything, now do we?" He growls in his ear, nipping at the cartilage. Fuck. Having his eyes on the footage of the Chicago Bears was the whole reason Eddie joined Buck in the first place. He liked to help his boyfriend with his studies, give advice, and his own opinion on what the defense is doing and how Evan should respond. The reward for doing so, usually came after pages of a notebook had been filled and several hours of film had been watched. But the first game of the Ram's season with their new shiny quarterback was just days away and Buck was a ball of nervous energy. Working out did little to take the edge off. Video games with Christopher (and losing horribly) just added to the problem. Not even a pep talk from his personal trainer Owen Strand could help. So Buck turned to film hoping that being over prepared would ease his mind just a little. Eddie ventured into the screening room wanting to give him some relief and Evan immediately showed him how he could. A sloppy blowjob lead to Eddie's first orgasm. A seat in Buck's lap, his chest pressed tight against Eddie's back, and stretched tight around Buck's cock, has Eddie on the edge of another. He just needed to focus. Give Buck a play to beat the scheme. He needed to open his eyes and see past his pleasure. Just for a moment and then Eddie can finally fall into the inferno, with Buck just behind him. The sharp trill of Eddie's phone breaks his focus and has his eyes opening for all the wrong reasons.

Never really written man on man smut before, so I hope I'm doing something sort of right? Idk. I just wanted to put the fuck in fuck-it friday lol. But this is a scene I've had in my notes for awhile for this fic. Hope you all enjoyed!

If you want to see more NFL Buck just search under the tag nfl on my page.

Tagging (no pressure): @prince-buck-diaz @thekristen999 @thewolvesof1998 @hippolotamus @monsterrae1 @bekkachaos @911onabc @911-on-abc @alyxmastershipper @brokenribsdiaz @cowboydiazes @cowboy-buddie @lizzybizzyzzz @glorious-spoon @oliverstaark @cowboy-buck @starlingbite @housewifebuck @devirnis @spotsandsocks @jesuisici33 @forthewolves @transbuck @wikiangela @rogerzsteven @bigfootsmom @try-set-me-on-fire @homerforsure @sibylsleaves @shortsighted-owl @spaceprincessem @heartbeatdiaz @barbiediaz @princessfbi

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heroesspirit · 4 months

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FANFICTION MASTER POST

You can find me on AO3 at meatjuice. My fics are all available under the readmore cut.

LONG FICS

Brothers in Blood and Spirit: (5/?) POVs: Eras, Legend, Wind.

Summary: Every hero has their weakness. For the captain, it’s his brothers. He will do anything to protect his brothers of the present, just as he did with his brother in the past. (Note: a good look into Eras’ past, this is an au where everything is the same except he has a little brother.)

The Nebula Brigade: (9/?) POVs: Twilight, Eras, Time.

Summary: The Hyrule Empire has reigned supreme for decades, gradually taking over countless planets in the solar system. The only thing standing between the Empire and complete control over the galaxy is a band of rebels. One exiled rebel encounters an Empire soldier and decides to spare his life, and he soon discovers the soldier may play a key role in bringing the Empire down. Despite all odds against them, they work together to bring peace back to the galaxy. (Note: Space au!)

Raise the Red Sails: (1/?) POVs: Spirit, Ravio, Twilight, Eras.

Summary: Hyrule has sent the Royal Navy after mysterious artifacts to uncover the location of the Triforce. Only with this power will they be able to put an end to the evils plaguing their land. The only thing that stands in their way is a band of pirates who seek the same goal of obtaining the Triforce for themselves. Only one group will emerge victorious. Or so they assume. (Note: I watched Our Flag Means Death and naturally had to make a pirate au.)

ONE SHOTS

Snow Day Off: (1143 words) POV: Four

Summary: Link experiences his first time making a snowman. (Note: for the HS Server’s December 2023 prompt ‘Snowed in’.

Fall From Grace: (1535 words) POV: Eras

Summary: Long hair is the sign of a fierce and skilled knight. To have one’s hair cut off by an opponent is the ultimate sign of defeat. To have one cut off their own hair is the ultimate sign of shame. (Notes: canon scene five years prior to the start of HS)

Lost Loftwing: (2207 words) POV: Sky

“Stand down,” Sky ordered with what little authority he could muster. He wasn’t used to that tone, he wasn’t fond of ordering people around. He was even less fond of people trying to kidnap and hurt his loftwing.

ONE SHOTS, BUT YEEHAW

It’s a Date: (919 words) POV: Eras

Summary: A sparring session turns into an admitting your feelings session.

A Horse by Any Other Name: (1531 words) POV: Eras

Summary: Sometimes the bond between a man and his borrowed horse can be so personal.

Dreams and Fireside Chats: (1788 words) POV: Eras

Summary: Link has an unpleasant dream and finds comfort in the kindness of those he's close to.

Bathhouse Boy Best Friends: (1629 words) POV: Twilight

Summary: Two bros, chillin' in a hot tub, five feet apart cause they might be gay??

The Wingman: (2555 words) POV: Sky

Summary: Sky copes with being touch starved naturally by trying to play matchmaker for his companions.

MISCELLANEOUS

At Ease, Captain: (7058 words) POV: HW Link

Summary: Link projects his problems onto his companions, specifically their Champion, but he's definitely okay and fine and not sleep-deprived. (Note: I wrote this at the same time I was creating HS! It’s also around the time when I first read LU. So this was written with neither in mind, but you can really see the prototypes of my versions peeking through in this one.)

The Captain’s Log: (2161 words) POV: LU Warriors

Summary: He dipped his pen in the inkwell and brought it to the paper, he frowned when he pressed too hard and made a large spot on the page. Link would never consider himself an artist, but he prided himself in his penmanship. During the war there was no time for fancy scripts and long words, his fellow captains were lucky if they got more than three lines of cucco scratch. Calligraphy was something he picked up later, he loved the way words flowed on paper. But now, his hands betrayed him. OR: One of those Warriors and Legend journal fics you always hear about but not really.

#zelda au #hs fic #going to add this post to the archive as well #im not sure if i will be adding fics as posts in the future or if ill just silently add them to this post #i would love opinions on this actually #i have been lowkey super nervous to post my fics here but i was finally brave!

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copiousloverofcopia · 25 days

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HI there Ghesties!!!

I know it's been another long one since I posted, but your girl has soooooo much on her plate right now.

it's been really hard to find time to do my stories justice and I don't wanna just give you guys anything that I am not happy with.

So, thank you all for being so patient with me and I am back with some Hunter's Moon celebrations with our beloved Secondo x OC Marcus content for the lovely @ashley-ghuleh

Commissions are OPEN, please see pinned post for Carrd info!

💗 Special thanks to @gothdaddyissues for the beautiful dividers!

The Hell Torn Heart

After a recurring dream leaves Marcus, a half-demon/half-hellhound, dealing with the ghosts of his troubled past and visions of a place he has never been. He is unexpectedly thrust into an unknown world. Guided by a mysterious couple to the Ministry, surrounded by ghouls and siblings of sin. The once outcast struggles with what haunts him and learning to find himself—until he meets Secondo.

Chapter 5: Hunter's Moon

Also available HERE on AO3! Haven’t started yet? Read from the beginning HERE!

Definitely NSFW below the cut!

The sound of the ice clinking in the glass filled the otherwise hollow of the room. Secondo sat sullen at his desk, pulling out his bottom drawer and retrieving an old, leather-bound ledger. A group photo tucked inconspicuously inside. Between the faded and tattered pages—a totem of times long passed.

He sat back against his chair, looking down at the old Polaroid held in his right glove. Recognizing the handwriting of his elder brother—Samhain celebration. The year written now faded into a smear of ink. With only the faint hint of 19 still visible.

It was bittersweet now to look at it. More bitter than sweet if Secondo was being honest. A group of clergymen, all much younger than they were now, dressed in their best robes for the autumnal festivities. Primo, Secondo, Terzo, and even Nihil all in attendance, but it was the man standing just beside Secondo that held his attention. The man that held that bitter taste that lingered in Secondo’s mouth. James, his once good friend and colleague—Marcus’s father.

He had been sitting with the knowledge of Marcus's lineage for weeks. Holding in close to the chest while he waited for the right time to reveal it to his brothers. Debating to himself on whether or not Marcus would be safe if he chose to reveal it to the whole of the Ministry. After all he wasn’t the only one who James had betrayed.

Staring at them in the picture. The perfect portrait of gluttonous fools who were high and mighty in both their lust for power and pursuit of sin. Each of them at one time like brothers to one another. Even James who at one time even Nihil considered a “son”.

The pain of his betrayal still ached deep inside Secondo. A thought he had worked hard to push deep in the recesses of his mind. Finally, he became sick of looking at it. Crumbling up the photo in his hand and tossing in the dusty forgotten corner of the room.

“Satana, potrebbe davvero provare a tornare?” he whispered to himself before finishing up the watered-down spirits in his glass. Just as he resigned to moving on with his work, there came a knock at the door. Secondo letting out a deep sigh as he called them in. His brothers just on time.

“Fratello. You asked to see us.” Primo said, stepping into the office. Head held high and prideful as expected. He was always such a source of knowledge and reassurance for Secondo. Having practically raised both him and Terzo for their entire childhood, Primo was a father figure unlike anything Nihil could ever be.

“That I did, thank you for coming. I know it's a busy afternoon for us all.” he acknowledged watching as Terzo came following shortly behind. Secondo’s head had already begun to pound. Rubbing at his temples before motioning for his brothers to take a seat—they had much to discuss.

“What's this about? You know I'm missing confessional for this.” Terzo huffed, slouching down in his chair like a petulant teenager who had convinced himself he had better things to do with his time. His annoying, although all too predictable behavior, sending Secondo and Primo’s eyes both rolling in their skulls. Knowing that the only reason Terzo would be miffed at missing his duties at the confessional, was because he was planning on spending the day fucking inside it.

“There is a situation that has been brought to my attention and I think you all should know.” Secondo began, his eyes traveling over to the crumpled-up photo. Terzo, noting it. Hopping up from his chair to retrieve it, unwrinkled it to see the daunting image staring back at them.

“It's…” he began, his mind flashing back to the night of James’s uprising. A night that his head was inches away from being served on a platter. Handing over the photo to Primo for him to see. The air in the room turned ominous as they all sat in a moment of silence.

“He is Marcus's father.” Secondo admitted, breaking the quiet between them. Both Primo and Terzo's eyes widened at the news.

“Oh cazzo. You have to be fucking joking.” Terzo sighed, taking a seat on the edge of Secondo's desk. Primo allowed himself to slowly sink back into his chair. The audible sounds of his bones and joints settling filling the space between them.

“Are you sure?” He asked him, even though he knew that Secondo would not be the one to joke about such a thing. Understanding that for Secondo, it was especially devastating, if their new resident Hellhound and his brother’s unsung lover was the spawn of one of the Ministry’s, and the Emeritus line’s, greatest adversaries.

“I'm sure. He told me himself. Seems that he finally managed to summon a Hellhound of his own.” Secondo explained, exhaling hard with his words.

“More like found her, knocked her up, and took advantage of her, it sounds like.” Terzo hissed.

“Do you think he knows? Is war on the horizon for us?” Primo asked, worried that Marcus's appearance at their Abbey had been no coincidence.

“You don’t expect James to just come strolling back, do you?” Terzo asked.

“If he is being used to infiltrate us, I can assure you, he knows nothing of it.” Secondo groaned, realizing what Primo was implying. It was certainly something he himself had considered in the beginning. From the moment Marcus told him, there was always the fear in his mind that they were being set up. However, he couldn’t bring himself to think Marcus was involved.

His feelings for the wayward dog were growing stronger with each passing day. Though he had yet to fully admit it to anyone. Maybe Marcus was trying to get close to him in order to give his father the upper hand. It would be his former best friend who would be most devastated to be betrayed once more by him again. He just couldn't bear to think it—something told him Marcus was genuine.

“Aware or not…this spells trouble. We need to talk to him, find out more…”

“In time Terzo, I don’t think it would be wise to bring it up before the celebrations. Maybe after—until then we will need to keep our eyes open and our ears to the ground. I suggest we notify the clergy of possible threats and have the ghouls keep a keen eye out until we know more.”

“I agree, no need to ruin the Hunter's Moon Hunt over sheer speculation.” Primo began, rising up from the chair so that he and Terzo could get things settled, “but fratello, make no mistake, we have to do something soon.”

“Agreed.” Secondo nodded as they headed out the door.

The night sky was illuminated with brilliant shades of indigo, amber, and vermillion. The sun, having begun to set as the Hunter’s Moon hung high in the above. The enchantment, circling the grounds, emanating a haunting, green light. It had become something of a sport for the Abbey to celebrate this night. The night of the Hunter’s Moon—a time honored tradition.

It started as a celebration of the feral nature of all Hell beasts. A time when their powers would be at their utmost capacity. Usurping the otherwise willfulness of them to be tamed—to follow commands. Now it had now become an opportunity for bets placed and gleeful indulgence. Everyone, excited to see who would be caught and when.

The ghouls would be “hunted”—chased down and caught once again by their prospective Papas. The evenings celebrations, all culminating in a night of sin, power, and depending on the relationship between them, carnal desires and lust. The entirety of the Abbey, benefiting from the Hellish impulses and debauchery the night created. A perfect and proper display of their faithfulness of sin, meant to please Lucifer himself. And tonight, Marcus would officially join the pack.

Far down in the bowels of the Abbey, the dungeons were filled with ghouls. All of them snapping and snarling as they waited for Sister Imperator's command for the gates to be open. Releasing them onto the grounds while Primo, Secondo, and Terzo awaited them. Cardinal Copia, along with Aether and Dew and the rest of the newly summoned ghouls watching in awe. Their time to come once Copia would be allowed to ascend. Leaving them for now to be delighted spectators to the night's events.

“Well now.” Primo remarked, noting the list of ghouls taking place in the hunt. “I see that although Copia brought him in, Sister is allowing the Hellhound to run for you huh fratello.” he finished, smirking at Secondo. The three Emeritus sons already prepared to take off on horseback after their ghouls. Like an old English foxhunt, ready to capture their prey.

“I think we all know why.” Terzo jabbed back, “...seems the old man has grown quite smitten with the puppy.”

“Ah…non riferirti a lui in quel modo.” Primo chided, worried about Terzo's lack of decorum towards their brother’s new charge.

“It is alright Primo. It's a term of endearment...I think.” Secondo winked, knowing that the ghouls too called Marcus, “puppy”. A friendly nickname given to the new guy who they had only ever accepted as their own.

“Whatever you say then fratello.” Primo nodded as Aether, Dew, Copia, and Sister Imperator approached them. The mass of siblings, clergy, and remaining ghouls, all filing in on the back courtyard as they waited.

The sound of anxious hoofs, shifting around on the old stone pavement echoed in the cold autumn night. Secondo exhaled as he waited patiently, his breath just visible in the air. All of them all bundled in their winter vestments. The hint of pinkened noses noted just beneath the brother’s papal paints.

“Well now, have we all placed our bets?” Copia asked, smiling with his ledger and quill ready in hand. He was honored to be serving as unofficial bookie for the event. The Ministry, choosing to “look the other way” at the betting practice. It was a position that had long since been held by the Ministry treasurer. Which at this time, and for many years now, had just so happened to be the Cardinal.

“We all know who's getting caught first.” Terzo chuckled, popping his neck from side to side, ready to ride.

“That's because the two of you just want to fuck each other's brains out… no respect for the sport of it.” Primo scoffed. It was always Omega, Terzo’s ghoul and lover, that was caught first. The two of them barely able to contain themselves long enough before they would spend the evening entangled with one another, and usually a very willing sister, deep in the western wood. Showing more appreciation for lustful endeavors than they ever did for the Hunter's Moon celebration itself.

“Pff.” Terzo shrugged, smirking once more as he still knew it was true. The youngest Emeritus son winking to Sister Jillian who stood amongst the crowd. The obvious choice for their lascivious plans with her ample bosom and bedroom eyes.

With Omega surely on his way to being “caught” first, it was more exciting to see who would be caught last—the one to hold out the longest. Would it be one of Primo or Secondo's ghouls? Would Marcus even have a chance of out running Secondo? Only the night would tell.

“Ok last call for bets!” Copia announced as he finished up inscribing the last bit of guesses from the siblings and, although she was officially not supposed to, Sister Imperator. Who had discreetly managed to slip Aether a 20.

“My money's on the dog." she winked. Aether, chuckling to himself as he quickly took the bill from her and made his way over to Copia.

“Best betting pool the Abbey has seen in decades.” Father Jim delighted as he Copia and Dew stood at the bottom of the steps in the courtyard. Aether approached them, sending a wink to Copia as he handed him the money. Nodding in Sister’s direction as Copia immediately caught on. Jotting down her initials in the ledger.

“Sí, Mammon would certainly be proud.” Copia said, nodding as well back towards her.

Marcus was absolutely feral. Teeth bared as drool rolled from within his mouth. His full Hellhound visage on display. Staying true in form along with all the ghouls around him. Their usual glamours, falling to the wayside as they all roared, hissed, and growled. Ready for the indication that the hunt had begun. Releasing them from their hold within the dungeons.

“That old man better be ready” he growled. Pacing back and forth along the dirt floor.

“Don’t get too cocky, Cucciolo. That old man is one of the best I have ever seen.” Earth snapped. Playfully nipping at Marcus like they were a pair of hyper littermates. Playing with one another to prepare for the hunt. Marcus’s tail, wagging with excitement as he waited anxiously for things to begin.

Then it happened, the shot rang out from Sister Imperator’s gilded pistol and the gates lifted. Unleashing them onto the Abbey grounds. Taking off full force into the woods beyond them. Only moments could they hear Sister Imperators voice on the megaphone.

“Let the Hunter’s Moon Hunt begin!” she called, allowing the Papas now to take off after them. Following them deep into the woods to be tracked and caught. Marcus began panting and howling as he ran. Deeper and deeper into these woods he had only recently come to know. Still a novice as he allowed his wild nature to take over—guide him on his way.

He had never felt so alive. The cold wind, flowing through his hair as he ran. The light of the moon, highlighting his silhouette in an eerie reddened hue. Marcus, feeling his true power. What it really meant to be a Hellhound for the first time in his life. Unabashed, wild—free.

I don’t care what the others might say. The old man will never catch me, he thought. Reveling in this newfound freedom. Losing himself as he began frolicking, prancing, and running. Paying little attention as each of the Papas managed to capture a ghoul or two around him.

Marcus didn’t care. He was thrilled to remain uncaught. Feeling smug with his ability to evade his would-be captor. Feeling confident enough in his lead to stop. Hollowing up at the orange devil in the sky. Barking and running in circles when he heard the faint snap of a twig from behind him. It was Secondo, jumping down off his horse to pursue him on foot. The “old man was surprisingly fast for his age.

“You will only get so far, Cucciolo! My track record is perfect.” Secondo yelled into the woods, only seeing a small speck of his target running in front of him.

“Sure, old man, we'll see about that!” Marcus snarked, tongue hanging from his mouth as he panted his way up a hill.

A group of ghouls; Water, Earth, Alpha, and some of the others joined him on each side. All of them happily ran beside him. Stopping again for only a moment together to howl at the moon.

“Gotcha!” Terzo beamed, snagging up Omega swiftly and with ease. The big ghoul, who had shockingly held out longer than expected, melted into his Papa's touch as they kissed against a tree. Marcus couldn’t help but blush at their fervidness and passion. Wondering if he would allow himself to be caught. If only just to have Secondo once more in his arms, his mouth—.

Back at the Abbey’s courtyard, the crowd waited for the return of the ghouls and Marcus. Primo proudly had caught all of his ghouls in record time. Terzo was still, as expected, in the middle of the woods with Omega. Sister Jillian, now suspiciously missing from the rest of the group. Secondo too had managed to retrieve everyone—everyone except Marcus.

“Cucciolo! Torna qui, piccolo stronzo!” Secondo yelled out. The whole of the Abbey listened as he spouted his frustrations in strings of profane Italiano. His boisterous rant pouring over the wind scorched trees and echoing towards them. The lot of them, amused at his vexation.

Secondo couldn’t care less what they thought. Still hoping to get the jump on his new pet. The young Hellhound, however, was proving to be more of a challenge than he'd imagined. Feeling the age difference between them in a way he never had before.

“How long should we let this go on?” Copia asked, struggling to hold back his own amusement. Watching as Marcus managed to evade Secondo's every move. His tail wagging behind him as Marcus did everything he could to mess with him. The siblings, clergy, and the rest of the ghouls all became dizzy as they watched Marcus running in circles around one another.

“Just a bit longer….one of them will fall out.” Sister Imperator hummed, satisfied with the turn of events. Reaching back to grab her lump sum of winnings from behind her from Aether as she smirked.

“When this is over I am never letting you off the leash again.” Secondo hissed. Angrily tapping the wrapped-up leash between his hands as he saw Marcus along the precipice of the woods.

“Is that so?” Marcus grinned, running back inside. Secondo gritted his teeth. He needed to catch his willful pup, lest he’d never hear the end of the ribbing from his brothers. He yanked back on the reins, tapping his horse.

“Yah!” Secondo yelled, the horse taking off fast after Marcus. The sound of its hoofs, loud in Secondo’s ears. Gaining on Marcus quickly. Delighted that he finally seemed to be slowing down.

“Oh fuck!” Marcus yelped, looking over his shoulder to see Secondo following closely behind. He continued to run, flying past the blur of trees and brush. Secondo, still maintaining a close distance behind him when suddenly the sound of hoofs stopped. Marcus halting in his position and slowly turning around.

Sniffing the air around him for Secondo’s scent. The air, so muddied with the scent of all the rest of the ghouls and the Papas, including Secondo, that it was almost impossible to discern him. Marcus, panting hard as he frantically searched his surroundings for a sign of movement. His ears piqued to any noise from within the trees. Reverting to his human form, wiped from all his expended energy.

“Gotcha!” Secondo proclaimed, snatching Marcus up by his collar and throwing him up against an old corkwood tree. Marcus, turning to face him as their mouths came crashing together like ferocious waves. Tasting, needing—desperate for one another.

“I need you.” Marcus moaned. As Secondo began undoing his belt. Marcus naked as the day he was born in the chilling air. The heat between them, keeping him warm.

“I need you too.” Secondo groaned as he freed his hard cock from his pants. Leaking and throbbing with his intentions. Marcus practically salivating at the sight of him.

“Then take me.” Marcus purred, turning around to rub his ass against the swelling of him.

“I will do with you as I please.” Secondo hissed, attaching the leach to Marcus’s collar as he licked his lips. Sinking his own teeth into his young lover's shoulder—asserting himself as the dominant one between them.

“Ah fuck.” Marcus mewled. Secondo, already nudging his cock against the tightly ribbed opening. Using his hand to smear the wealth of precum along his shaft. Easing his swift gliding straight into Marcus’s ass.

“Make no mistake. You belong to me now.” Secondo groaned as he began fucking him. His cock, quickly spreading out his hole to house him deep inside. Withdrawing back only to slam harder and deeper inside him.

“Mmm…yes Papa….” Marcus moaned, bending further forward. His new position, allowing Secondo deeper inside.

“Such a good pet you are, taking my cock so well. I’ve dreamt of this moment.”

“Mmm...Secondo…ah! Fuck me too.” Marcus cried out as Secondo reached around to take Marcus's cock in his still gloved hand. The cool leather slick from Secondo’s cum along Marcus’s shaft.

“That's right you little mutt, cum for your Papa. Cum in my hand while I cum in your ass.” Secondo demanded as he yanked back on Marcus’s leash once more. Railing him into complete submission. The sounds of his lap pounding against Marcus’s ass surely heard all the way back at the Abbey.

“Oh yes! Yes!” Marcus called out, tears streaming down his face with the mix of pain and pleasure. Secondo, buried deep in his asshole. Practically impaling him on him, pressing hard along his weak spot. Marcus, quickly cumming all over Secondo’s hand. Face bright red and eyes almost crossed as he burst in his hand.

Soon Secondo too couldn’t help but cum. Thrusting and pounding harder and harder until the warm liquid from Marcus’s orgasm ran over his wrist. The feel of it sending him over as he slammed Marcus’s ass down hard against his lap. Pouring ropes of cum deep in the back of him.

When it was all said and done, they both laid spent on the ground. Breathing, slowly settling as Marcus laid his hand against Secondo’s warm chest. His Papa, wrapping them both in his vestments as best he could. The cold, now beginning to settle in as the sweat from their efforts evaporated from their skin.

“You were amazing tonight.” Secondo hummed.

“Really?” Marcus asked, a bit surprised that Secondo was so impressed with him. Both of them, still reveling in descent from their orgasms.

“Truly. Everyone else had been caught tonight before you. You should be proud, Cucciolo.” Secondo explained. Marcus felt warm inside. Proud of himself for his efforts but completely enamored with Secondo that the victory paled in comparison.

“Thank you.” was all he could muster. Secondo, pulling out a cigarillo to puff on before they’d head back in.

“You’re welcome.” Secondo began when the post-coital reality began to set in. There was still so much to learn about Marcus—and if he truly knew about his father. Secondo knew he would have to tell him, but tonight was certainly not the night. For now, he would enjoy this moment between them—a rare moment of happiness.

“Happy first Hunter’s Moon.” Marcus smiled in his adorable naive, but charming tone.

“Happy Hunter’s Moon.”

Notes: Satana, potrebbe davvero provare a tornare?- Satan, could he really be trying to come back? non riferirti a lui in quel modo.-do not refer to him like that. Cucciolo-Puppy torna qui, piccolo stronzo- come back here you little shit.

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claireelizabeth85 · 2 days

Text

Come Home To Me - Chapter 5

John Egan x OC Female!Reader

Summary: When the idea of a past life turns out it isn't just an idea or a dream.

Warning: angst

AN: This is a work of fiction and is based on the TV characters from the Apple TV series. No disrespect is intended towards the real men of the 100th BG.

AN2: A big thanks you to @instructionsnotincluded and @thedeviltohisangel for allowing me to soundboard ideas.

All previous chapters can be found here

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sarah couldn't shake the weight of Fred's last words. When he mentioned how Lizzy never saw John again, it hit her like a plot twist in her own story, sparking a wave of unexpected empathy. As she slipped into her room, the phrase "never saw him again" echoed in her mind like a chilling melody. She paused on the edge of her bed, imagining the ache of love lost, trying to put herself in Lizzy’s shoes and how the outpouring of emotions the night before was like the reopening of a deep, old scar.

After a moment of reflection, Sarah found herself in the bathroom, letting the cool water ease the tension that clung to her. Emerging refreshed and resolute, she knew she had to dig deeper for answers. Heading downstairs, she made up her mind to untangle the mysteries that hung in the air and got in the car with Fred to head over to the museum.

The hours rolled past as Sarah read page after page of the notebooks donated by Fred's Aunt. There was so much about the everyday life of the base. The gossip between the Red Cross girls and the pilot, the consoling each other when some of them didn't come home. The office and makeshift archives became Sarah's sanctuary.

She enjoyed the quiet. Both she and Lizzy lived in the constant hum that was London. It was always moving, there was always noise or people. Friends coming and going, music playing, or the TV on. But here, nestled in the quietness of the Norfolk countryside, Sarah would normally have found the peace and quiet deafening, but it gave her space to absorb everything she needed to.

There were boxes of history waiting to be rediscovered; to be read and the people within them to be remembered.

Sarah's fingers traced the faded ink of Jean's last notebook. Taking her glasses off and rubbing the heels of her hands into her eyes in the hope it would brush away the ache from reading too long. Pulling out the tie in her hair, Sarah ran her fingers through her hair, scratching in a half-hearted attempt at a head massage. She had received a text from Lizzy earlier in the afternoon to say that she was going to take a wander around the village with James and speak to a few of the locals.

Sarah returned to scanning each line of Jean’s neat handwriting with a mix of determination and frustration. She had been pouring over records and photographs at the museum for what felt like hours, searching for any clue that could lead her closer to the truth about Lizzy.

"Anything?" Fred’s voice was a welcome interruption. His tone was heavy with apprehension as he placed another cup of hot tea and a small bagel on the small coffee table.

Sarah sighed, shaking her head. "Nothing significant. Jean was good at note-taking but by god was she a gossip. To be fair to her, she kept better records than those who stamped theirs with 'Top Secret'. But as she knew that nothing of note could be written down, she resorted to nicknames - Buck, Bucky, Benny, Bubbles and Bing" her voice tinged with disappointment. "But I'm not giving up just yet." as she turned another page, her gaze fell upon a familiar date - October 10th. Her heart quickened at the mention of Lizzy.

“Fred - she talks about Lizzy!” Sarah rushed. The neatly printed words transported Sarah back, the scene forming in her mind's eye.

"Lizzy had been waiting around the tower all day, just as Bing and Jack had. I had taken up coffee and doughnuts to keep them fed and watered. Just as I entered the observation deck, Jack shouted that he could hear engines. Before anyone could stop her, Lizzy was off like a shot, sprinting down the airfield," Sarah read out loud, her voice trembling slightly. “I will never get over hearing her scream. Even from the tower, it was the worst sound I ever heard. Jack threw his coffee cup against the wall and Bing Crosby stumbled into the seat behind him.”

Sarah sobbed. She had seen Lizzy’s heartbreak the other night, slow-dancing outside with a whiskey glass in her hands, admitting that she hadn’t wanted to survive, Fred telling her that Lizzy never saw him again and now she was reading the very moment that caused all of her friend's heartache.

She envisaged her friend, with hope coursing through her body like lightning, driving the speed of her steps as she sprinted down the windy airfield. One hand on her cap and the other driving her forwards. Sarah imagined her whispering to herself that John might just have been lucky enough to survive. She could see Lizzy, breathing so hard with each step getting closer until the crew started to climb out and then the realisation dawning on her that John had in fact not come home. The tarmac biting in to her knees as the weight of the reality crashed down on top of her.

Fred stopped what he was doing.. "Jean always used to say that they never knew who made it back until they got to the interrogation hut, he spoke softly, understanding the emotions bombarding Sarah. "Jean said that the Red Cross girls were all silent and then the minute the doors opened, they would have these jaw crippling smiles on. She never directly spoke about Lizzy’s scream, but said that personnel at Thorpe Abbotts that day knew their cocky, whiskey drinking leader was not one of the lucky ones to have climbed out of the solitary battered fortress that had returned.

Fred left Sarah alone to collect herself and headed back out to the museum where Lauren, a local school girl, was standing at the front desk. “Thanks for helping out Lauren.” She flashed up a wide grin. “Not a problem Mr Thatcher. Mrs Colinson from the primary school phoned to see if they can bring the Year 4s up next week as part of their World War 2 history lesson. I asked her to send you an email. Oh, a lady was looking for you. Said that you were expecting her? That she wrote to you a couple of weeks ago and said that she’s got some pictures and some documents for you? I said that she could take a look around while she waited for you, I hope that’s okay?” Fred nodded, expressing his gratitude at her kindness. “You can pack up and head home now, I’ll shut up shop. No need for you to be here this late. Make sure you call your mum and then head down to the main gate.”

Fred left Lauren to tidy her things, as he went in search of the visitor. He didn’t recollect receiving an email but then between running the pub, volunteering at the museum and looking after his dad, he could quite easily have missed it. The couple were looking at one of the display cases, pointing at people in the photographs. Fred didn’t want to be obnoxiously loud so scuffed his feet a little loud in the hopes that he could catch their attention.

“Oh Mr Thatcher. Thank you for seeing me. My name is Abigail Clarke and this is my husband Michael. I emailed a few weeks ago to say that I would be in the country and that I had some documents and photographs for your collection.” Fred smiled apologetically. “I am so sorry Mrs Clarke, I do believe I received your email but I must admit that I forgot about your arrival. How may I help?” They discussed the contents of what Abigail was donating to the museum as they made their way back to the main area, just so happening to be crossing paths with Sarah - who looked tired and deflated.

“Sorry to interrupt - Fred, I’ll be outside. My brain is shot and my eyes are sore. If Lizzy rings, tell her that I’m still here looking, albeit not with much look.” Sarah left the trio and pushed open the exit into the bright late afternoon sunshine. Abigail and Fred continued to discuss her donation, explaining that the museum was run by volunteers and that it could be a lengthy process to catalogue her donation, but they would take a look and see about adding some if it to their displays. They walked slowly back towards the front of the museum where two small boxes of files, photographs and even a reel of 16mm camera film. Leaving her husband to discuss the intricacies of the B-17 and how often the English Sally-B flies overhead, Abigail headed outside.

Sarah was leaning against the railing with her back to the door, on the phone. “No Liz, I'm fine! Yeah of course. How’s your head? Hahaha, Yeah well make sure you drink some water and eat something or you’re going to feel like shit for days. No, it’s okay I’ll get something when I get back.” There was a pause. Sarah pushed herself off the railing and turned and leant her back against it. She exhaled, forcing the air out and inhaling the resolve to explain whatever it was that she had been asked. “Yeah, I found something. Fred’s Auntie Jean was a Red Cross girl here - you remember her?” There was high-speed chatter. Abigail wandered over to the monument looking at all the names of the men and boys who had left this place, never to return, trying hard not to eavesdrop. “Yeah, well she liked to keep detailed notes - she...erm…she wrote about you?” Sarah suddenly became conscious of her company. “Yeah, she wrote about October 10th. I’m so sorry Liz. I really am. Listen, I've gotta go. I want to go through a few more bits before I get out of here.”

The call disconnected and Sarah went to head straight back inside. “Sarah?” The voice called out softly. She turned around to find the woman who had been taking time at the memorial stone walking towards her. “Yes? Can I help you? How did you…” The woman, a good two or three inches above Sarah’s 5ft 3” engulfed her in a huge hug, almost lifting her off the ground. “I would recognise you anywhere!” Sarah struggled against the unwelcome intrusion into her personal space. The lady, who still had a gentle hold on Sarah’s elbows was in her late 40s to early 50s, blonde hair with streaks of silver grey. She had blue eyes that reminded her a little of Lizzy’s.

“I’m very sorry, do I know you?” the woman chuckled. “No, not right now but don’t worry about that, the important thing is I have found you as I have been asked to give you this.” Abigail handed over an envelope, containing photographs. “I was told that these would be a great help to your research.” Sarah opened the envelope and took out the photographs. “But how? Where did you get these?” Abigail smiled knowingly. “I got them from my….” She never finished explaining where the photographs came from, as the man Sarah assumed was her husband called her away.

Wandering back inside the museum, Sarah flicked through the photos, there were so many. A wonderful head shot of Lizzy in uniform, one of her standing in from the mess hall and at the officer’s club. But there was one that made Sarah’s head spin and in that moment, her whole outlook changed. She thought this whole situation was bonkers, time travel, Lizzy knowing things she shouldn’t and yet now she was holding evidence, irrefutable proof that it was, after everything she had seen and been told, all true.

Heading back to the office and with a surge of determination, she pulled out her notebook that was buried under all the declassified mission reports. Wiping clean the whiteboard that hung on the far wall, Sarah tried to make sense of the notes she had made only a few hours ago but they all seemed like gibberish now. Standing before the board and with shaky determination and not really sure where this was leading her, Sarah wrote “Dreams” and the dates that Lizzy’s dreams started and all the dates that Sarah could remember along with any words, or names that Lizzy had given her after they had talked through it. Underneath the dreams, Sarah wrote out all the missions that Lizzy had been on, with the dates underneath the name, all except the last one. The only thing that Sarah could add was the month and date.

“Jesus Christ! It all fits! It all bloody fits.” Sarah scrutinised the board and the photographs she had received from the woman outside, studying them intently. Despite her efforts, there was no date on the back of the photographs or any other clue to indicate when they were taken. A sense of frustration washed over Sarah as her confidence plummeted, leaving her feeling as though she had hit a brick wall.

"When? When were you taken?" Sarah muttered, feeling like she was chasing after a thread that led nowhere. Emptying the contents of the envelope onto the table, she sorted through other photographs that appeared to be from the same time period: officers laughing in the sunshine, their hats off and some appearing relaxed despite wearing their uniforms. Rummaging through more boxes of photographs, Sarah grew increasingly desperate, convinced that she had encountered something similar before. If only she could figure it out, if only she could pinpoint their location, then she knew where to direct her search.

“Sarah, you okay? I’m just going to shut up shop and we can head back to the pub...” The look on Sarah’s face was wild. “Fred!! Do you know when this photograph was taken?” She practically shoved the black and white picture under his nose. “It’s the link Fred. That photograph links everything that Lizzy has been through. I just have to find out how to make it all happen.” She took a seat perching on the edge of the chair, massaging her temples as Fred studied the photograph. “I couldn’t tell you when, but Liz does look happy though. Maybe it was taken not long after she got here, not long after she met John.” Sarah took the photograph back and placed it back into the envelope. “I don’t know Fred. That woman you spoke to earlier, she gave it to me. She knew me, by name, she never gave me hers, but said that she had to find me to give me this cos it would help me. I don’t have a clue what that means. There’s something in the photographs that’s meant to tell me when this was taken. But I’d be fucked if I can work it out.”

“You need a break Sarah, you’ve been at this all day. You’ve read so much you’re probably word blind and won’t be able to see the wood for the trees. Besides, there might not be anything that we can do about it.” Sarah shook her head, not wanting to hear it. “There has to be Fred, there has to be, look at the fucking photo! Look at it, I’m in the bloody thing!! There has to be a way that this all comes full circle because I’m in that photo and I don't remember it and yet Lizzy remembers everything - she remembers everything and everyone and it’s breaking her heart all over again. You didn’t see her Fred, she won’t survive that kind of heartache again. I have to try and fix this. I have to find the answer and it’s here. I’m sure of it.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Back at the pub, Sarah and Lizzy sat at a table tucked away in the back, the evening sun casting a warm glow through the windows. Plates and cups multiplied around them as they caught up on their day, small talk interspersed with moments of serious discussion. Lizzy, still feeling fragile from her hangover, listened intently as Sarah shared her research endeavours, determined to uncover the truth behind their recent discoveries. Sarah kept the photograph from Abigail a secret for now, mindful of Lizzy's emotional state the night before.

As the evening progressed, Fred and Geoff joined them, bringing with them an air of camaraderie and purpose. With the museum's recreated board spread out on the table, they delved into the details of their past missions. Lizzy faltered when asked about her last mission, her memories clouded and fragmented. "I'm not sure," she admitted, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "I don't really remember much... just the flak and all the bomb groups, the largest run on Berlin in the whole war."

Sensing Lizzy's discomfort, Sarah exchanged a knowing glance with Fred and Geoff, silently acknowledging her struggle. Lizzy excused herself to fetch a round of drinks from the bar, leaving the others to pore over the evidence laid out before them. Geoff focused on studying the photographs, while Fred meticulously checked paperwork and logbooks.

Fred leaned over the table to talk to Sarah in quiet whispers. “You need to ask Geoff to have a look at that photo” Sarah’s eyes went wide. Twisting around to check on Lizzy’s progress at the bar, she slid the small, 3-inch by 2-inch, black and white photograph face-side down across the table. “Not a word to Lizzy. Not until we have something concrete”. Geoff’s eyebrows shot up. “But this….” Sarah threw him a stern look. “Not a bloody word Geoff.” He nodded. Picking up his magnifying glass, he set out looking at the small photograph in all its finer detail.

As Sarah delved deeper into the dates surrounding Lizzy's last mission, her focus intensified. Returning to the group and passing around the drinks, Lizzy took a moment to watch her best friend as she sat with her cup of coffee. She couldn't help but notice the exhaustion etched into Sarah's features. Despite her own deafening thoughts, Lizzy recognized Sarah's tireless determination, even amidst her own weariness.

Summoning her courage, Lizzy attempted to unlock the lid on her final memory, the one she had buried deep within herself. It was a memory that frightened her more than any other, a jumble of names and flashes that refused to coalesce into a coherent whole. "Rosie," she murmured aloud, drawing Geoff's attention as he turned to inquire if she had said something. Gathering her thoughts, Lizzy continued, "Rosie, that's who I flew with on the mission. Robert Rosenthal, a Brooklyn lawyer. He was the best pilot we had after..." Her voice trailed off as she drained her coffee and headed outside for a smoke, seeking solace in the cool night air.

Pulling out the files that Sarah had borrowed from the museum, she split them in half and handed them over to Fred, not looking at him as he gave her the look of "these should not be out of the museum." Knowing that they were only looking for February 1945 missions, this cut their research down by hours. "I've got it!" Sarah said triumphantly. Laying the mission report of Major Robert "Rosie" Rosenthal on the table, Sarah and Fred read the few short lines that were written about Lizzy. "Lt. Waterfield stayed steadfast her in choice to stay onboard despite the significant damage to our bomber. She expertly managed to keep the plane steady enough, despite being injured herself, so that I could get out. I am not aware of the whereabouts of Lt Waterfield at this time." Sarah looked at Fred and then at Geoff. "Does this mean..." The two men exchanged glances. "He's saying she probably went down with the plane, but because he didn't see a chute, he or the Air Force can't be certain that she didn't survive. So, she was classified as Missing in Action until such time evidence could be provided to the contrary." Sarah looked at everything on the table. "That," pointing at the report, "the day after the anniversary of that mission is when Lizzy's dreams started."

Suddenly, Geoff's voice broke their concentration. "Sarah, I think I've worked out when this photograph was taken," he exclaimed, pointing out a minuscule detail in the photograph that Sarah had handed to him. Sarah took the picture and magnifying glass and with Geoff carefully pointing at the detail, Sarah's breath caught in her throat. "Oh, holy shit!" she exclaimed, realising the significance of what had been uncovered.

The trio were deliberating on the next steps when Lizzy came back to the group. "We think we know how to..." all of them now grappling with the dual desires expressed by Sarah and Lizzy: to "get you back" and to "make them stop." Recognizing the complexity of their situation, they agreed to sleep on it for the night, allowing time for reflection and planning. Sarah felt a sense of accomplishment and progress, hopeful that they were finally moving forward.

Taglist:

@victoryrollsandredlips @bobparkhurst @prettyinlimegreenboots @ginabaker1666 @thedeviltohisangel

#John Egan x Lizzy Waterfield #Masters of the Air #Major John Egan #Lizzy Waterfield #Major Gale Cleven #Major Harry Crosby #Major Robert “Rosie” Rosenthal #Mota #mastersoftheair #mota fanfiction #sarah taylor (oc)#come home to me

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sarcasmandships · 1 year

Note

his! do you have any peterick fic recommendations? i've already read all your works on ao3 and i'm waiting desperately for updates so until then i need something to read because i feel like i've already read soooo many fics and i'm running out of material plz help :)

hiiii, im glad you like my fics and I'm sorry im terrible at updating i used to be so consistent but uni is just killing me with assignments rn! but i promise the restaurant au will get an update soon and im planning to edit death by a thousand cuts before i add to it again cos im just not really happy with the quality of it, but that will also be coming soon i promise!

anyways onto what you're really asking about; recommendations. im not sure if you're looking for smut or stories with plot so here's just a mix of things i've really liked ( i suck at bookmarking things so I've just searched through my history and there's deffos stuff i've missed im sorry)

Literally just read kick me in the face & ask me how my head feels by fkingdeathwish today - devoured this in a few hours and this fic made me like stories in first person. its so good and also has the best andy/joe/pete friendship dynamics i was smiling the whole time. but also features a lot of petekey tho which might not be ur thing

(smut) going down, down by @pyrchance - i read this the other day and its 10/10

Anything by snitchesandtalkers but some of my favourites are i've been checking my list, crooked love, making out inside crashed cars (smut), silver screen dream, the antidote to everything (except for me), we're friends when you're on your knees (not finished but still so so worth reading), amateur pornographers (smut obvs), a little less 16 candles (a little more bite me)

brutal love by @notastumph- this one is so good but like i also had to take a 5 min break between chapters cos the angst and heartbreak was getting to me so much (in the best way)

and i'll burn by jiksa - just read the tags first

the house on rosewood lane by scarredsodeep - this one is so fucking good, i don't even like horror and i was obsessed with this and couldn't stop reading

hey doctor, i'm certifiable by derridoid (smut) - so good and the ending made me laugh sm

husband on the payroll by das_verlorence-kind - what can i say, i love the fake relationship trope

also ive changed my plea to guilty by das_verlorence_kind - again just check the tags incase it’s not ur thing

accidents will happen by rusty76

again pretty much everything by @annoyingpetekey but some favourites are (i just wanna) get some, so pretty (when you're on your knees), and come on (and fuck me like you doubt me) - all smut

That Schrodinger guy made some really good points, you know? by @earlgreytea68

but i'm reflecting light by looks_a_scream - this one is deffos a favourite

the purgatory of my hips by auralcosm

edgar allan potato by emeralcitydowntowngirl - another absolute favourite, i have such a soft spot for soulmate AUs but I've never read one as good as this, again features a lot of petekey but it is all in the past

to take what i'm given with grace by likeasugarcube - their whole 'marriage of convience' series is amazing but this is the main fic and it is sooo good

anything by littlesnowpea but favourites include love in the middle of a firefight, but there's no preparing for this, and nobody wants to hear you sing about tragedy (pls read tags first tho)

december is for cynics by looks_a_scream - another favourite

secrets i don’t want to keep by perceived_nobility (although i think they’ve changed their name to invisible_man now) anyways this one is only accessible if you have an ao3 account but it is so so good an hurts in all the best ways, would advise paying attention to some of the tags tho

Also pretty much anything written by appleremix or vampyerika

Ok so I have like another 30+ pages in my history but this is already so long, so i hope you enjoy some of these assuming you haven't read them already!

#anon #fic recommendations #peterick

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cacodaemonia · 6 months

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20 questions for fic writers

Thanks for the tag, @flowerparrish! :D

How many works do you have on ao3? 213, but somewhere between like 85 and 100 of those are just images.

What’s your total ao3 word count? 1,049,952

What fandoms do you write for? Clone Wars

What are your top 5 fics by kudos? Many of the top works are art-only, but if I sort through, looks like most of the fics are those that I have never reread or re-edited, so 😬

That’s Not How It Happened (This Is How It Happened) - My first fic, which I have re-edited since first posting it. Chip arc fix-it

Orbital Decay - Haven't touched this since I posted it. Codywan

Modulation - Also don't think I've re-edited this at all. Echo/Fives

Will You Walk With Me? - The only one of the top five that I care much about XD; Waxer and Boil (platonic or pre-relationship)

Kintsugi - Not re-edited. Codywan

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? Yes! I love replying to comments with my usual unhinged yammering :D

What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending You're Just Harder to See Than Most, but it's part of a larger series where the sad stuff in this gets better. As a stand-alone, though, it's very angsty 🙈

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Hah, so many XD Maybe Count Every Beautiful Thing?

Do you get hate on fics? No, I've only gotten it for art, and thankfully AO3 isn't infested with pearl-clutching busybodies like Tumblr is, so I've only had one (honestly hilarious) hate comment there. It was on like the 6th chapter of a a very clearly tagged sketch dump in which several of the previous chapters were fairly explicit smut. And then on that last chapter, the person was like "Ew, they're brothers! This is disgusting." Hah, okay pal, seems like you were really enjoying it if you got to chapter 6. 🤣

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Sure do! Uh, a variety, I guess, though I suppose I haven't written anything that would be considered heavy kink?

Do you write crossovers? Nope

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I know of, but I've had TONS of art stolen.

Have you ever had a fic translated? Nope

Have you ever co-written a fic before? Yes!

What’s your all-time favorite ship? This is very hard to answer because I tend to latch onto ships for many years at a time. But no other characters before the clones ever inspired me to write fics, so I'll go with Waxer/Boil 🧡

What’s a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will? I have an AU fic where the war ends shortly after Geonosis that I really want to write but can't make the brain go very well on it, for some reason. I have pages and pages of notes, some sketches, and like a chapter and a half drafted, but I keep getting stuck. I wouldn't say that I doubt I'll ever finish it, though. I probably just have to shake things around to knock loose whatever is gunked up.

What are your writing strengths? Maybe natural dialogue?

What are your writing weaknesses? I want to describe all the things. I want to put what I see in my head into your eyeballs. But I also tend to over-describe like, logistic-type stuff, I think—stuff that no one but me cares about XD

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? Like a real language or a conlang? I don't know any of either well enough to include much of them in my fics, but when I use a bit of Ryl (which I've largely made up), I really limit it because I get annoyed when there's a ton of conlang in fics I'm trying to read. Scrolling to the end notes constantly is not very fun.

First fandom you wrote for? Clone Wars

Favorite fic you’ve written? Hmm, well I have a soft spot for Will You Walk With Me? but I think my two objectively best fics are My Heart's Red Muscle (78K Waxer/Boil cyborg AU) and We Could Breathe Underwater (5K Force-sensitive Waxer/Boil).

That was fun!

No-pressure tags: @lizardberries @elismor @valkeakuulas @blackkatmagic @amukmuk

And because I always long for a blank version of these tag things to copy/paste, just the questions below the cut:

How many works do you have on ao3?

What’s your total ao3 word count?

What fandoms do you write for?

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Do you get hate on fics?

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Do you write crossovers?

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

What’s your all-time favorite ship?

What’s a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

What are your writing strengths?

What are your writing weaknesses?

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

First fandom you wrote for?

Favorite fic you’ve written?

#tag game #20 questions #fic writer tag game

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claireelizabethsblog · 7 months

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~ August's Books Reviewed ~

The month started out strong with me riding a Sanderson high, then I did a thing that I objectively hate and know will 9 times out of 10 have me reading less, which is started several books at once.... as of the end of August I was reading three books at once, yet none of them were finished so none of them get included in August's round up... look forward to that in September I guess!

The Well of Ascension by Brandon Sanderson

(763 pages)

The stress I felt reading this was unreal... which is simply evidence of how good it is. It genuinely was pulling actual visceral reactions from me and I physically could not put it down at points. I know this is a shorter review than usual, but I can think of nothing else to say.

I gave this book 5 stars ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

The Hero of Ages by Brandon Sanderson

(748 pages)

An amazing conclusion to a really really good trilogy. The twists and turns of this were so well executed and completely shocking in exactly the right way. The ending in particular I never could have seen coming. If this were a spoiler review I'd be able to go on more, but for now, I leave with simply the promise that if you love fantasy novels, Sanderson novels, epic twists and/or social/religious/political commentary then you should definitely give this series a try!

I gave this book 5 stars ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid

(585 pages)

I was gifted this book and admit to being a little wary before committing to reading it, as a general rule books that blow up exclusively on social media tend to be a let down to me after the copious amounts of hype they've received. I'm pleased to say that was not the case with this book. If anything, I was pleasantly surprised with how much I enjoyed it. It was extremely uniquely written; it was emotional, clever and beautiful. The characters were all so complex and felt genuinely so real. I would say that was the highlight of this book, the characterisation. Every character you could relate to a real person. You sympathised with their decisions, or at least understood them. Like real life, there was no villains and heroes. Bad people and good people and somewhere in the middle people, sure. But also like real life, the last group was the most prevalent, and the first two groups different to each individual's opinions. I would actually really recommend this book to almost everyone I know who reads, I'm pretty sure everyone could find something in it that keeps their focus, be it the mystery, the love story, the characters....

I gave this book 5 stars ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

The twist of a knife by Anthony Horowitz

(373 pages)

I am like 90% sure that this was not the first book in a series, however it stood well as a stand alone book too! Like the other Horowitz book I read earlier this year, I found this novel a little slow to pick up at first, however I did get into it in the end. I found it clever and quirky and I loved the meta elements. Ultimately, it was exactly what it was advertised as - a light, humorous murder mystery - and actually, I'm not mad about taking a break for something silly every so often!

I gave this book 3 stars ⭐️⭐️⭐️

If We Were Villains by M. L. Rio

(422 pages)

After the success of The Seven Husbands, I felt brave enough to try another recent social media favourite book. I'd seen mixed reviews over this one, however my flatmate strongly recommended it and as usual, our tastes in books aligned and it was extremely good. Despite the predictability of the plot, I was fully engaged the entire way through which speaks to how well the characters were depicted that I was willing to look past the predictability of it all just to read more about the people. In fact, I would like to make this a formal call for more people to start writing fanfictions for this novel because I want to read even more about these characters and am being denied that currently based off the limited options on ao3 (if anyone has any good recommendations please let me know!) I think, if I had read this in another month it would have received five stars, however it was let down by the fact that it was read within the same weeks as Sanderson and The Seven Husbands which meant I could not in good conscience give it full marks when the plot was just a little too easy to see coming for me. Therefore....

I gave this book 4 stars ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

#book review #book reccs #claireelizabethsblog #brandon sanderson #mistborn #the well of ascension #the hero of ages #taylor jenkins reid #the seven husbands of evelyn hugo #anthony horowitz #the twist of a knife #m l rio #if we were villains

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that-gay-guy-from-hell · 1 year

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Phantoms of the Past: Vergil x Male Reader

SUMMARY: Vergil has always had nightmares and night terrors for as long as he can remember; however, when he met you, those began to subside more and more. Over the years, he had begun to forget what it was like to wake up in a cold sweat and terrified; that is until a few months ago. Once more, his mind has been plagued by these agonizingly real dreams.

BEGINNING NOTES: HAH! YOU THOUGHT I WAS DONE WRITING SAD FLUFF WITH VERGIL; WELL THINK AGAIN (He really is my comfort character--I swear). There are 12,886 words in this… This beats my last one so now this is the longest chapter I’ve written--It’s like 23 pages in google docs lmao. ⚔️🛡️⚔️ ▪️I couldn’t find an exact answer to this so I will put this here: a grin refers to the lil’ smirky smile Vergil gives Dante in DMC5 while a smile is closer to like showing your teeth. I hope that helps clear things up a bit lmao ▫️I use an in-game combo term (DMC 5)--just a head’s up. ▪️When I reference triggering unless I say specifically “Sin Trigger” I am referring to Vergil’s regular trigger (the pre-DMC 5 form; however, I use the concept art for DMC5 as my visual reference… I know that’s kinda complicated. Just look at his fandom page and then the gallery; you’ll see the concept art for DMC5.) ▫️I’ve never personally had a concussion before so I did some online research; forgive me if it is a bad representation of having 🛡️⚔️🛡️ 💠Vergil x Male reader; I tried to write G/N but it got confusing, sorry. 🔹Pre-established relationship--married and living together. 💠Fluff… well more angst; I got kind of carried away. 🔹Minor accusations of physical abuse; THE KEYWORD IS ACCUSATIONS. (trigger warning) 💠Minor blood warning; from both of you. ⚔️🛡️⚔️ READER RELATED 🔹The reader uses: Beowulf and Revenant 🔹Reader is overly chill about things; I am a rather passive person so it ended up being that way with this story, sorry. 🔹It is mentioned that you are younger than Vergil--and closer to Nero’s age. 🔹Reader does throw up; only mentioned it isn’t like graphic or anything--still figured I should warn just in case. 🛡️⚔️🛡️ VERGIL RELATED 💠Vergil has PTSD-related nightmares/actions. 💠Self-harm? Vergil skins himself accidentally; so I am not sure if that is self-harm per se. Plus it’s only in one part so it’s not that big of a talking point. 🛡️⚔️🛡️ Slight spoiler, don't read if you don't want to have things spoiled: To add some explanation to Vergil’s bit where he swore and freaked out: I figure that when Vergil lost his autonomy for so long as Nelo Angelo, he ended up becoming hyper-aware of what he is doing at all times. So when he does something that he either can’t remember doing or didn’t want to do that it would send him into a panic; fearing that he is going to lose his freedom again.

INSPIRED BY: And when thy heart ceased to beat--By: Craig

Please give this a read. It is what originally inspired me to write this, plus it is just a really good story and takes a pretty realistic look at what Vergil’s life could/would be like after everything that’s happened.

A cold wind swept through the arena as all movement stilled.

At the edges were the two remaining contenders; circling one another. One, a male human equipped with Beowulf, was out of breath and exhausted: the other, the olive-armored Nelo Angelo, had barely warmed up and diligently awaited the human's next move.

Seeing how the man defeated the slew of lesser demons that Nelo had sent prior, he decided to take things into his own hands. The devilish swordsman was confident that he’d win this fight; even if this particular human has been more of a challenge than anticipated--as the pair has been going at it for nearly an hour now.

With gritted teeth, the man sprinted at Nelo, cracking the ground in their wake. He was going to try and grapple with the large knight. Right before he was able, Nelo swung his greatsword. The silver blade was suddenly halted as it hit the Beowulf gauntlets. Even though the man was unharmed, the momentum of the attack was enough to fling the human far across the field.

Using the claws of the gauntlets, the man shredded the arena’s floor and stopped himself. Nelo turned to face him and waited for the incompetent warrior to stand back up. Noticing that the knight stood still, the man began to grow frustrated; knowing that the devil was taunting him to try again.

With a pounding heart and exhaustion only worsening, the man stood up with a grunt. He rolled his shoulders, cracking them loudly, and took a deep breath. Once more he sprinted at Nelo. When the man was close enough, he decided to jump off one of the nearby walls. Springing himself above the Black Knight and performed Starfall.

Nelo dodged but wasn't quite fast enough and was nicked along one side; which only further irritated the Black Knight. The second the man's feet landed, Nelo kicked the underside of their knees--bringing them to a kneel.

Not wasting any time, Nelo raised his sword to strike, only to be blocked once more by the Beowulf gauntlets. The pair locked in a bind; Nelo’s sword heavily pushing downwards onto the forearms of Beowulf, which were painfully held above the man’s head.

No matter what way you put it, a devil's strength is insurmountable to a human’s, even if the human is wearing the armor of a former devil. Nelo knew this and drove his weapon harder into the demonic protection as it began to falter.

Knowing it was only a matter of time before the gauntlets shattered, the man moved into a position where he could dig his feet into the ground. This allowed him to stand ever so slightly. Not having any better ideas, he used this small amount of space and attempted to jump. This, in turn, used the demonic energy of the boots to push the gauntlets up harder into the greatsword; allowing the man to stand up further. Without wasting any time, he jumped once more and noticed small cracks that began to spider on their forearm guards. However, he had enough room to break away from Nelo; making the knight slam his blade into the ground.

The man grumbled as they looked down at his gauntlets, seeing that they would shatter if hit by the sword again.

Nelo pulled his sword back up and huffed. Now it was his turn.

Nelo sprinted at his opponent and lunged with the broadsword; catching the man off guard; as he only barely dodged the sharp edge, rolling into a stand. Before the man had a moment to think, Nelo attacked once more. A large sweeping motion from the broadsword hit the gauntlets and blue sparks flew off the sword from the impact; sending the human flying into a wall of the arena.

Standing back on his feet, the man looked at his forearms; Beowulf had fractured all the way through. Seeing Nelo begin to move in again, he quickly shed the broken armor and dodged. Using Beowulf’s boots, he jumped onto Nelo’s shoulders and used him as a surface to bounce off.

The devil turned to face the man and heard him say something unintelligible; and yet, something so familiar. Nelo ignored it with a small dismissive shake of his head and continued the fight. Once more he moved to attack. The man attempted to dodge in the same way again, not knowing what else to do. However, Nelo wasn’t created yesterday. He was quick enough to grab the man's leg in a flash.

Nelo used the human’s limb as a handle to swing the attached body into the ground. The floor cracked from the extreme force as the man's flesh made contact; followed by an ear-piercing scream and the sound of an unimaginable amount of breaking bones.

A strange feeling ghosted at the recesses of Nelo’s mind, a feeling of terror--a deep underlying urge to stop what he was doing. However, the knight had to finish what he started. The demonic swordsman grabbed the man by his neck; making him scream once more.

Despite their wounds, the human still attempted to fight. He grasped at Nelo’s face and horns, pulling on them; all the while, the man was saying something Nelo was still unable to understand.

It didn’t matter, the struggle was pointless.

Like a hot knife through butter, Nelo plunged his broadsword through the man’s torso. Nelo felt the human’s body go limp and their hands released the tight grasp on his face. The dead man’s blood trickled down the silver blade and onto Nelo Angelo’s olive-armored fingers. Before the knight could enjoy his victory, he decided to get a better look at his opponent.

A loud clatter emanated from his sword as he dropped it and the fresh corpse. The Black Knight’s hands shook as he looked at the blood that was dripping from them, horrified at what he’d done.

Vergil shot upwards with a loud terrified scream.

He frantically turned his head around to get his bearings. He was sitting at home, in bed, with you. Vergil’s heart was racing and his skin was clammy. With short panicked breaths, Vergil gripped his face tightly, unknowingly tearing at his skin with his claws, as he replayed everything in his mind.

“Vergil? Is everything alright?” a confused and very concerned voice called from the space beside him.

The blue devil nearly jumped out of his skin upon hearing you speak. You sat upwards upon noticing his terrified state.

“Hey,” you whispered and gently touched his bicep, making him flinch.

Vergil turned his head to you and just stared. You noticed that his arms were partially triggered, his eyes were glowing dully, and there were small pin-prick-sized bleeding marks caused by his claws on his face. His stare was blank with his brow ever-so-slightly creased. He looked afraid… almost as if he were lost.

“Another nightmare?” you softly kneaded against his arm, hoping to bring him back from whatever terrified thoughts he was in, “It’s okay, Vergil. You’re safe. Nothing is going to hurt you.”

His stare moved down to your chest and he slowly reached outwards. Confused, you let go of his arm--allowing him to fully pivot to see you. Barely-there scaled charcoal-black fingers ghost down your midline. You noticed a slight tremble in his lips and his stare had softened a bit.

Slowly you grabbed his arm, making sure he could see what you were doing (and to be cautious of his forearm’s blades), “I’m right here, Vergil. You’re safe and at home. Everything’s okay.”

He opened his mouth but no words came out, just a weak crack of his voice. The both of you just sat for a few minutes; his palm resting firmly over your stomach while you rubbed his forearm. You continued to try and ground him back in reality with your words, hoping to keep things from escalating.

When Vergil’s trigger began to subside, he cleared his throat and spoke in a barely audible voice, “I didn’t…” his voice trailed off once more.

“It’s okay Vergil,” you noticed his expression had shifted and he seemed to be more present, “You’re safe. I’m safe. We’re alright.”

Vergil nodded slowly, his free hand moved to yours that you had on his forearm. You let go of him and watched as he removed his palm from your skin. He placed your hand in between both of his. With trembling fingers, Vergil ran his digits over your hand and arm while staring down at the interaction.

Another few minutes passed, Vergil’s trigger had fully subsided and a few stray tears fell from his eyes. It pained you to see him like this; to see him so scared and not know how to help him. A small pang of hurt tugged at your heart; you had a feeling that whatever the nightmare was, it involved you as (you presumed) most have. However, tonight was different; Vergil didn’t attack you.

Over the past few months, Vergil’s nightmares and terrors had been getting steadily worse. Just two weeks ago he woke you up by almost dislocating your shoulder. A week ago? Vergil triggered in his sleep and gouged the crap out of your back--enough that you had to get new bedding because of bloodstains.

Tonight, you finally managed to get him to sleep for the first time in a week and he had another agonizing nightmare. It was also the first time he had tried to speak to you afterwards; rather than sit in silence.

A stuttering breath caught your attention. You looked into Vergil’s eyes as he spoke, his voice still laced with a terror you’d never heard from him before, “I couldn’t… You...” the blue devil’s jaw quivered, not being able to bring himself to finish his thought.

“You’re okay. I’m okay. Everything’s okay,” you moved to get closer to him, “I promise.”

He pulled you into his lap and buried his face into your neck and continued to mumble, “I’m sorry,” over and over as he shook against you.

You gently wrapped your arms around him and rubbed his back, “It’s not your fault, you don’t have to be sorry.”

The two of you remained this way until you both fell asleep. Vergil, thankfully, did not have another nightmare; however, his sleep was far from restful.

A ringing phone woke you from your sleep and you moved to grab it, only to be stopped by a strong set of arms. Vergil had wrapped himself entirely around you--legs and all.

“Vergil,” you whispered, “I need to get up.”

He grumbled in response and loosened his grip just enough for you to slip out of bed. You grabbed your phone and went to the bathroom. While in there, you saw that Dante had tried to call you and text you:

“You coming in today?”

“Hello?”

“I am going to keep spamming you till you respond,” and that he did.

It looked like Dante had been doing this for the past 30 minutes.

After you finished up in the bathroom, you called Dante.

It rang once before the red devil picked up, “Mornin’ beautiful.”

You rolled your eyes as you made your way back to the bedroom, “Do not call me that; Vergil will kill you.”

“Be one hell of a way to die--make sure to put it on my grave, yeah?”

The both of you laughed, “So, what’s up? The shop finally burn down or something?”

“Honestly… I don’t think the fires of Hell could burn this place down…” you could hear Dante’s chair creak as he leaned forwards, “You both forgot about that job this morning, huh?”

Your face went pale, “What--”

The younger twin laughed, “Verge and you had a contract for today. It’s nearly noon and you both are still at home?”

“Son of a bitch!” you yelled, forgetting that Vergil was still sleeping, “We’ll be right there.”

“See you soon,” you could practically hear Dante reveling in the fact Vergil messed up.

“Mhm, yep,” with that, you hung up the phone.

“Dante?” Vergil grumbled from the bed, making you jump slightly.

The bed creaked as you sat on it, swinging one leg on it, “Yeah… We are late to work…”

Vergil moved to set his head on your lap and sighed, “I will undoubtedly never hear the end of this mistake.”

“Mhm,” you gently ran your fingers through his naturally down hair, “knowing Dante.”

“Brillant,” Vergil looked up at you and had a strange pained look.

“Something on your mind?”

His lips parted slightly as he took a hand and reached up to your face, not saying anything.

You kissed his palm, “I’m right here, Vergil.”

He closed his eyes and nodded with a sputtering exhale. This had also become a regular occurrence in the last few months; even before the terrors began. You had noticed that Vergil would often stare at you with this sad and distant look on his face. One night, he finally acknowledged that he did so and admitted why; that he was afraid you aren't real.

After a few moments, Vergil removed his hand and sat upright. An air of remorse emanated from the twin as he whispered, “I did not harm you last night, did I?”

You shook your head, “No,” you set a hand on his bicep, “You did talk to me a bit, though.”

His brow furrowed as he tried to remember and looked over his shoulder at you.

“You kept… apologizing, telling me that you didn’t know..? I won’t pry, but…” you locked eyes with the blue devil, “I am here if you ever want or need to talk about it, okay?”

He turned to you, “Thank you for your offer… But I assure you that I am fine.”

“Vergil,” you placed a hand on his and spoke softly, “You don’t have to be fine all the time; it’s okay to be upset, to have problems.”

A weak grin was all he gave you in return, squeezing your hand tightly.

The eldest twin knew exactly what had set off this spiral of increasingly terrified thoughts; however, he was ashamed to admit it, even to you.

It had been a job just like any other; clear out demons here and destroy a nest there--a piece of cake really. However, the weather was far from amiable; being overcast and heavily raining.

“Fuck me!” you growled as you violently yanked the Beowulf boot from the mud.

The demonic hardware is rather heavy, at least for your human legs, so it is not ideal for muddy rainy weather--often getting stuck. Vergil noticed your grumbling and scrunched-up expression from the corner of his eye as he stifled a laugh.

“Don’t even--” you insincerely growled at him, “I swear I will throw them at you.”

Vergil smirked slightly and huffed a laugh through his nose, “Perhaps you’d prefer me to leave you here?”

Playfully you shoved his shoulder, “You wouldn’t dare.”

His eyes narrowed, "I wouldn't?"

You raised a brow, "You'll sleep on the couch for a week if you do, mister,” your voice was heavily layered with sarcasm and playfulness.

Without responding, Vergil grabbed you by your waist and hoisted you over one of his shoulders like a sack of potatoes.

“Hey--!” you squirmed in his grasp.

“Stop struggling,” his grip tightened as his fingers dug into your skin, “Or I will drop you.”

With a shake of your head and a smile, you laughed, “What a romantic husband I have.”

“Tch,” Vergil was scowling, but you knew it was disingenuous.

The two of you walked like this for some time, enjoying the comfortable silence (which if you listened very closely, you could hear Vergil purring). A part of you had almost forgotten that the both of you were on a job; that is until Vergil yanked you from his shoulder and plopped you on your feet.

He placed a stiff hand on your shoulder, “Stay,” with that, Vergil dashed off behind you.

Confused, you turned around and watched Vergil zip around a group of miscellaneous demons. You lovingly wolf-whistled at the silver-haired hunter.

Similar to a peacock showing its feathers, Vergil did these solo fights to show off--to flirt with you. You knew that this was the case because he would always finish the fight with a fancy move; be it an over-the-top judgment cut or using his doppelgänger in a combo. Today he opted for the second type.

You smirked widely as you watched Vergil return the Yamato to its scabbard and dismiss Doppel.

Lovingly, you cooed at the devilish swordsman, “I love watching you work, you know that?”

His face was emotionless, holding intense eye contact with you. His lips were slightly parted as he seemingly tried to come up with a response.

Under your breath, you laughed quietly and approached him, “my Dark Slayer,” you winked and gave him a large grin.

He closed his lips and looked down with a tiny smirk, a trace amount of bashfulness ghosted his features. As you got within reach of him, a loud noise made both of you snap to attention. The two of you moved closer together, back to back; as per typical routine. The source of the noise sprung from the nearby buildings. It was a group of four Scudo Angelos and two Proto Angelos.

Vergil’s lip twitched as he huffed in irritation. He would always take care of these two types in particular, alone. Right now, however, it is impossible to get you away to a safe distance without a high risk of hurting you.

“So, you got a plan?” you calmly asked over your shoulder to Vergil.

With a small click of his tongue, Vergil spoke, “You take care of the Scudos; I will take the Protos.”

“Sounds good,” you nodded and the two of you broke apart.

Using Beowulf, you made quick work of the smaller demons’ shields. The talon heels of the boots are always a great tool for crushing the demons’ thick skulls. It didn’t take long for you to have them all but bloodied remains beneath your heels. You turned to address Vergil, figuring that he had finished his fight alongside you; however, he was still in combat.

You raised a brow as you watched him take on both of the knights. Confusion pricked at the edges of your mind, it was unusual for Vergil to take longer than you. The closer you watched the more off he seemed; his movements were overly stiff and his technique was sloppy. Deciding to help him, you moved in on one of the Proto Angelos. It didn’t take long for the demon to notice you. It charged at you and, just as it swung its broadsword, you parried the attack using your gauntlets. Taking advantage of the small gap of time that it took for the demon to pull its blade upwards, you hit it square in the chest.

The Proto Angelo stumbled back a bit but was relatively unphased by the uncharged punch. Now circling each other, you waited for the demon to attack. Once it did, you jumped upwards and were able to perform Starfall upon the knight. Grinding your taloned heels into the flattened olive-armored demon, you did a fancy flip off of it; deciding to have some fun. Which was a major mistake.

You hadn’t noticed that the second Proto Angelo also had its attention on you as it had knocked Vergil into a far-off wall. Hearing movement, you spun around to defend yourself but it was too late.

A searing pain shot through you as the demon’s broadsword slashed horizontally along your torso. With a loud shout, your knees buckled a bit as you stumbled backwards. You placed your arm along the slash, feeling it with your fingers--as to not break eye contact with the demon. The wound was bleeding profusely and was much deeper than you anticipated.

“Shit,” you grimaced and noticed the first Proto Angelo stand up. Thinking quickly, you sprinted at the second one and jumped off its shoulders. With another loud shout in pain, you landed using a shoulder roll. Your head was spinning as you slowly moved to kneel with your back to the demons.

A bright blue flash caught your eye and you felt a gush of wind pass you by. Once you managed to stand, the pair of Proto Angelos had been desolated into nothing but specs of dust in the wind. Where the demons once stood was Vergil in his sin trigger. Instantly, he was in front of you, making you jump a little.

With a huff and a weak smile, you jested, “Kinda sad I missed that,” you winced a bit as you felt your gut twitch in pain.

A large grey-scaled hand gently touched your wound. Despite the heavy distortion of his sinful voice, you could tell he was worried, “You are hurt?”

You did your best to play it off as you set a hand atop his, “I’ll be fine; it’s just a scratch.”

He huffed loudly and pulled his hand from your body, looking at his palm that was covered in your blood, “I am sending you home--”

“What-!” you shook your head, “Vergil, you can’t be-”

The blue devil snarled lightly, “This is not up for discussion,” he sighed with a shake of his head returning to his human form, “It is not worth the risk to keep you here.”

With parted lips, you did your best to formulate a sentence despite your anger, “I’m not just going to leave you,” you shifted your jaw to the side, “We’re partners, remember?”

“As if I could forget,” Vergil’s eyes met yours as he mumbled, “That is why I am doing this.”

“Vergil?” your voice pulled him from his thoughts, “You okay? You’ve been zoned out for a few minutes.”

“Forgive me,” he removed his hand from yours, “I was lost in thought.”

You looked at him curiously.

Vergil shifted to the other edge of the bed, “We should get ready,” with that Vergil left the room.

You pursed your lips and sighed through your nose as you stood up; admittedly, you had hoped he might indulge you on what he was thinking about.

After a few minutes, Vergil returned to the room. You already had the majority of your gear on and were in the middle of tying your boots when the ringing of your cell phone caught your attention.

Before you could answer it, Vergil snatched it off the bedside table, “What do you want, Dante? "

Although you couldn’t hear the younger twin, you could tell that he was poking fun at Vergil for being late.

“Have you called only to pester? Or is there a reason for this conversation?” Vergil’s lip twitched as he huffed through his nose.

A small smirk tugged at your lips at Vergil’s feigned irritation at his baby brother.

“I see,” Vergil slowly looked over to you and eyed you up and down, “My partner and I will discuss it and let you know,” he turned his gaze from you, “Goodbye,” he hung up the phone and placed it gently down on the bedside table as it was before.

Vergil moved to the closet and grabbed a dress shirt, his jaw moving slowly around as he mindlessly buttoned the black fabric. Your boots hit the floor with a soft thud. Humming a soft tune as you moved to the dresser to grab Revenant off of it, sliding it into the horizontal holster on the small of your back. From the corner of your eye, you noticed Vergil standing behind you.

“Oops, shit-- sorry,” you shuffled out of the way.

“Do not apologize, I am in no rush,” he opened one of the drawers and grabbed a pair of pants and his belt.

A bright smile adorned your face as you resumed your humming. You grabbed your coat and his off the nearby wall hooks and walked over to him.

Vergil had moved back to the closet and slid on one of his vests.

“Allow me?”

The blue devil turned to you, “I can button my own clothing.”

“I thought you weren’t in a rush?” you teased gently.

You handed Vergil his coat to hold and slowly began to button the slate-blue apparel. Out of the top of your vision, you could see that Vergil was staring down at you with a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.

“So what did Dante want?” you reached over to the closet behind him and grabbed one of his ties.

“He wanted to know if you wished to trade places with him for today.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you made sure the tie was semi-loose--as he prefers--and tucked it beneath his vest.

“That he would accompany me on the job and you would work with the women--taking Dante’s place."

“Well,” you rested your hands on his shoulders and sighed quietly, “I guess that makes the most sense since we are so late today…”

“Are you sure you are alright with it?” his eyes flicked to your hands then back to you, “I know you prefer to work with me,” he tossed his coat over on the bed and placed his hands on your waist.

You laughed as you felt him pull you closer, “It’ll be fine, dear,” you leaned your head on his chest, “just promise me you’ll stay safe and keep in touch?”

“Of course,” his voice was barely over a whisper as he kissed the top of your head, “Same goes for you.”

“I will,” a grin spread across your face as you leaned back to look at him. Lovingly, Vergil pressed further into you and moved one of his hands to the side of your face, rubbing his thumb on your cheek. The two of you kissed gently. His other hand kneaded into your hips as you moved your hands down the front of his chest, grabbing his vest.

Gradually, you two split from the kiss. The blue devil stayed touching your forehead. You shivered slightly feeling his hot breath against your lips, wanting to taste more of him.

“Perhaps we should save this for later?”

“Just a little more… please?” you pouted slightly.

The blue devil chuckled softly, “With a face like that,” he brushed his lips against yours, “how could I say no?”

The two of you intertwined yourselves once more. He moved both his hands to your sides, slowly and strongly kneading down them. With kisses as sweet as molasses, he made sure to show you how much he relishes in your affections. One of your hands moved to his hair and slowly ran your fingers through slicked back pomaded locks. A small distant purring could be heard as he pulled you even tighter to his body. Vergil’s lips left yours and ran down your jawline and neck.

“I love you,” you murmured, “so very much…”

He removed his lips from your skin and looked you in the eyes; his way of expressing the same affection. Despite his silence, you knew he felt the same.

A ghost of a smile hinted at Vergil's face as he reluctantly let go of your body, returning to his regular volume, “We should get going; otherwise I may change my mind about saving things for later.”

Your face turned a slight red at the flat-out way Vergil said that he wanted you. The blue devil had walked over to the bed and slid on his coat. He then grabbed Yamato from its resting place next to the bed and your phone.

With your phone outstretched in his hand, he raised a brow at your expression, “Ready?”

You shook the ever-encroaching ideas from your head as you meekly grabbed your phone, “Yeah.”

“Good,” his hand was still outstretched, “Shall we?”

A large smile decorated your face as you grabbed his hand, “Lead the way, dear.”

The instant you left Nico’s van after work, you went inside to bathe. It had been another rainy day and you were not only coated in demon blood but also mud--lots of mud. You pulled off Beowulf before entering your shared home and set them on the rubber mat near the door; leaving them to clean later.

Slowly, you undressed as you made your way to the bathroom when you heard something odd.

“--to do,” it was Vergil. You peered through the door of the bedroom. He was sitting on the edge of the bed facing away from you and was talking to himself, “Perhaps it would be best--” he stopped and turned his head slightly to the right.

You bit your lip and knocked gently, “Hey, sorry to intrude… Didn’t know you were home.”

Vergil pushed up on his knees, standing to turn and face you, “Do not apologize, I wasn’t doing anything important…” he looked worn out.

The door creaked as you fully opened it and stepped into the room, halfway undressed, “You look tired, babe.”

The blue devil shook his head, “Dealing with my brother is exhausting.”

“Well, then after I shower,” you set Revenant down on the dresser, “maybe we should take a nap together?”

“I-” Vergil’s expression hardened, “I don’t know if that is a good idea.”

Your lips parted slightly as you looked with a soft crease of your brow, “I know it’s been rough but… you need some sleep, Vergil…”

He looked as if he were going to say something, but moved his gaze to the floor and nodded in agreement.

“You don’t have to wait for me,” you moved back towards the door, “I’ll join you when I get back, okay?”

The eldest twin nodded as he watched you leave the room.

He had already removed most of his clothing, only having his pants and his, untucked, dress shirt on. Slowly, Vergil stood and went to get a more casual shirt; removing the rest of his work clothes.

Now dressed in a loose-fitting black tank top and navy boxer briefs, he moved back to the bed. Apprehensive didn’t even describe how he felt right now; no, the eldest son of Sparda was petrified over the thought of sleep. However, you were right, he was beyond beat and wanted nothing more than to rest. With a heavy sigh, he climbed into the bed and closed his eyes, praying for just a moment of pleasant sleep.

You came back into the room about an hour later. With a warm smirk, you tip-toed around the room to avoid waking the sleeping devil. Once you re-dressed yourself, you turned back to look at Vergil when you noticed something was wrong.

His face was contorted into a rather violent grimace and, as per the night before, was partially triggered. Vergil was also breathing heavily and growling in his sleep. In his arms, he had taken one of the pillows--and some of the duvet--into a death grip, ripping them.

Biting your lip in thought you sighed, “Shit…” although you knew that this could only end badly, you decided to wake him up from his nightmare.

Cautiously, you moved to the edge of the bed and placed a hand on his shoulder, “Vergil..?”

Nothing.

Your gut twisted with fear as you shook him harder, “Vergil?”

Still nothing.

With a heavy sigh, you shook him harder, “Wake up…”

Instantly, you were pinned to the floor by a set of charcoal-black scaled hands around your throat. You had never been scared of Vergil before but tonight? You were terrified. His face was somewhere between emotionless and furious. A loud rumbling growl emanated from the back of his throat as he continued to squeeze ever-tighter.

“Verg-” your voice sputtered as you grabbed his arms, gasping for air.

Blood had begun to trickle down your palms as you accidentally sliced them on his forearm blades in your panic. Becoming steadily aware of your need for air, you grabbed at his face and neck; anything to get him off of you.

Tears sprung from your eyes as you felt his claws pierce the sides of your neck as his grip tightened even further. You knew that if he pressed down his thumbs, Vergil would stab right into your windpipe and kill you.

Lightheadedness began to sink in as you croaked out another beseeching plea to your lover, “Vergil--!”

With nothing left to do, you clawed harder against him and roughly cut into his cheek with your nails. This seemingly pulled him from his delusion as his grip loosened.

A new look replaced the hardened glare from before, a look of complete and utter horror.

Vergil’s voice trembled as he realized what was going on, “What--?”

You took a loud deep breath and pulled his arms away from you and spoke as best you could with the growing pain in your throat, “Move,” you pushed against his body and did your best to speak normally, “please.”

Without hesitation, Vergil removed himself completely and stood staring down at you. He looked at his, still-triggered, hands and saw your blood dripping from his claws. The blue devil’s blood ran cold.

“Vergil-” you groaned as you sat upwards, watching him bolt out of the room, “Wait-” with a strained grunt, you gradually stood upright and did your best to stabilize your wobbly legs.

The blue devil slammed the bathroom door close, quickly locking it behind him. His hands had de-triggered and shook violently as he tried to wash the blood from his skin. He had turned the faucet as hot as possible and had begun to inadvertently scorch his skin. While he was brutalizing his own hands, he felt something drip down his jawline and to the tip of his chin. Vergil looked at himself in the fogged-up glass in front of him.

Upon each side of his face and neck were dark smears of your blood from you pushing him away. Three large scratches decorated one of his cheeks and were slowly bleeding; now dripping off of his chin and to the sink below. Vergil took one of his hands and slowly ghosted over the markings on his face. A deep all-encompassing pit formed in his gut as he replayed the nightmare from just the night prior. The feeling of you desperately tearing at Nelo’s face, trying to escape him.

A tremble found its way to Vergil’s lips and body. Pressing as hard as he could, the eldest twin began to desperately scrub his blood-stained face with the sink's boiling water; grimacing from the feeling of peeling the top layers off of his flesh. You were the only person in the world he wouldn’t dare fight, wouldn’t dare harm; yet, only mere moments ago, he had his hands around your neck. A wicked thought echoed in his mind, how it would have only taken just a few more seconds or just a little more pressure for him to have killed the only person he has ever loved. Vergil bared his teeth as he let out a muffled whimper, tears forming at the edges of his eyes.

The knob of the door jiggled, “Vergil?” the Dark Slayer flinched at the sound of your voice, even though it was soft and calm, “Vergil, are you okay?”

He couldn’t come up with what to say in response, only whimpering again with a sad twitch of his lip.

Using an even softer tone, you set your head on the door, “Vergil… Let me in, please?”

Despite his effort to come up with something, all he could muster was a loud voice crack as gripped the countertop.

“Vergil,” you sighed quietly, “I want to see you. Please open the door,” an overwhelming amount of fear had consumed your mind; not for yourself, but over how Vergil might punish himself over this, “Please, Vergil…”

“I-” he took a harsh breath trying to calm himself--and failing miserably, “What if I--” a crack began to form in the laminate countertop as his raw skinned fingers gripped harder and harder in growing frustration.

“You won't; I promise.”

After what seemed like an eternity, Vergil shut off the faucet and unlocked the door. You opened the door slowly and felt your heart sink at seeing your blue devil.

At the furthest point from the door, he was sitting on the floor, trembling heavily. Scalding red marks adorned his pale skin where he had been scrubbing and his fingers were no better.

“Vergil…” you approached him and saw his body stiffen, “Can I sit next to you?”

All he gave you was a small nod. Slowly, you moved next to him and sat beside him.

Neither of you spoke for nearly a half hour. At one point, you managed to get a hold of one of his hands and intertwined your fingers; thumbing over the fading red marks. Internally, you were fighting the urge to hold him as close and as tight to you as possible.

Vergil’s voice was nearly silent when he finally spoke, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay--”

“No,” he pulled his hand from yours and turned to stare at you, “No, it’s not okay,” with each word he got louder and held more frustration, “I could have--” he clenched his jaw as he scrunched his face, holding back his overwhelming storm of emotions, “I could have killed you!”

“Vergil…” you decided to follow his idea and pivoted to face him fully, “I face death every day with work so it--”

The blue devil snarled loudly, “I am not some mindless fucking demon,” he gripped his face with his hands, “I should be able to control myself!” tears began to slide down his face as he grimaced intensely, bearing his teeth in frustration.

You were taken aback, you have never heard Vergil swear before, let alone sound so distraught, “I--” your lips pursed as you carefully chose your words, “I didn’t mean it like that, Vergil,” you gently set a hand on his knee, “I just meant that I’m used to that kind of thing, as morbid as that sounds.”

A tremble reappeared through his lips, “You shouldn’t have to deal with that from me; it goes against everything I…” his mouth opened as if he were going to continue but no words came out.

You were trying your hardest to stay calm despite wanting to join his crying upon seeing him this way. Tenderly, you thumbed over his leg, “When we got married,” you made sure to keep your voice slow and soft, “I signed up for whatever hardships may happen, to or from either of us--that we would figure things out together,” you noticed that Vergil’s stare had finally reconnected to yours, “no matter what the what happens."

Vergil pursed his lips before taking a slow deep breath through his nose. His brow furrowed as he closed his eyes, slowly stopping his weeping, and removed his hands from his face.

A part of Vergil wanted to argue with you; to tell you that you're insane, delusional, that you shouldn't bear the punishment of his inner demons. The feeling of you grabbing his hands and holding them pulled him from his bitter thoughts.

Bringing one of his hands up to your lips, you kissed his knuckles, whispering against them, “I love you,” you brought the other hand up and repeated your action, “more than anything in the world, Vergil.”

His grip tightened on your hands, “You are a fool," Vergil did his best to sound normal but only managed to give a small whispering whimper of a response.

“If loving you is foolish then I will happily play the court jester, my love,” a small smile tugged at your lips, hoping to make him feel a little better.

After a brief moment of silence, Vergil released your hands and scooched closer to you, “May I see…” he meekly gestured at your neck.

You nodded slightly and exposed your neck to the blue devil. The skin of your neck had already begun to darken and had small red petechiae marks. It was easy to tell that Vergil had used his hands on you because of the long slender lines of bruising; which ended in much darker spots where he had been pressing the hardest (except his thumbs). At the end of each dark spot were small needle-like marks that had dried blood on and around them.

Although you tried your best, you flinched at the feeling of his fingers ghosting your neckline. Vergil’s expression became increasingly distressed the longer he looked at you. Seeing this, you grabbed his other hand and held it tightly; hoping to provide some solace to him.

“It’s alright, Vergil, it’ll heal,” you whispered as he pulled his hand back from your neck.

A small tremble found its way to his lips as he whispered back, “I am sorry.”

“You do not have to apologize,” you grabbed his other hand and held it, “It is not your fault.”

He paused for a moment before speaking, “We,” his voice cracked as he avoided your eyes, “We should get you cleaned up.”

With a comforting grin and soft voice you thumbed over his fingers, “You sure you are okay to do that?”

Vergil nodded, “I’ll be okay,” he pulled one of your hands to his lips and kissed it very gently.

It wasn’t long before morning rolled around. Reluctantly, you had agreed to let Vergil stay in the living room for the night and you sleep in the bedroom, alone.

You woke up freezing as you had grown accustomed to the broiling body heat of your lover. With a loud groaning yawn, you swung your legs over the edge of the bed. As you walked to the bathroom, you felt a sudden sharp headache form.

Upon reaching the desired location, you noticed that the laminate countertop was cracked badly by Vergil gripping it.

“Shit,” you grumbled.

Your thoughts were cut off as you began feeling very off balance, leaning on the broken surface for support, before suddenly lurching forward into a kneel and throwing up in the toilet. During all your years of hunting, you knew what concussions felt like and this was definitely one of the worst ones you've ever had.

“Fu-uck,” you sighed with a scowl slowly emerging on your features.

Finishing up what you had originally gone in there to do--and making sure to brush and rinse the fuck out of your mouth--you left the room with a few painkillers in hand.

The house was uncharacteristically silent as you wobbly meandered your way to the kitchen. Once at the sink, you poured yourself a glass of water and took the pills. With your hands resting on the edge of the sink, you slowly drank the rest of the water; doing your best to stay upright. The lukewarm water only helped to highlight the growing pain in your throat.

“Are you alright?” a voice called from your right.

“Gah--!” you jumped slightly and dropped the cup in the sink--which was thankfully plastic. Then turned to see that it was Vergil, “You scared me, Vergil--" you took a deep breath trying to calm your heart, "I am fine, just a little sore is all.”

His face softened as he cautiously pulled you into a close hug, “I’m sorry--is there anything I can do to help?”

“This is exactly what I needed,” you leaned further into him and heard him purring quietly, “How are you doing, dear?”

Vergil had a small smile as he whispered, “Much better now that I am with you.”

The two of you held each other--swaying slightly--for what seemed like only mere seconds; when, in reality, it had been nearly a half hour.

Vergil nuzzled his cheek into the top of your head and spoke very quietly, “I hate to ruin the moment; however,” he pulled back from the hug enough to see you, “Dante requested us to come in early today.”

You raised a brow, “Why?”

“Morrison brought in a big contract; Dante requested that all of us be there for the briefing…” Vergil placed a hand on your face, not wanting to let you go.

“Mmn, suppose I need to get ready,” you leaned into his palm and closed your eyes, and sighed, leaning out of the hug, “Best not to be late again."

Both of you stood at the front door, debating on how you were getting to the DMC. Since you had a concussion, traveling with the Yamato was out of the question--last time you had traveled under the same circumstances, you almost threw up inside the portal and then proceeded to pass out once on the other side.

“You sure you’re alright with this? I can just call an Uber or something,” you folded your arms and raised a brow.

Vergil nodded, “I am fine with it; however if you aren’t then--”

“No- no, it's fine just,” you tried not to laugh, “never thought 'flying via devil' would be something I’d do.”

He grinned, “Perhaps we should travel this way more then.”

“And here I thought you only used your trigger for emergencies,” you playfully teased.

“This is an acceptable outlier,” Vergil laughed quietly.

With a bright flash of cornflower blue light, Vergil stood before you in his devil trigger.

A warm smile adorned your face as you approached the black and blue devil, "I never knew the devil was so handsome,” your voice was laced with sarcasm as you placed a hand on his cheek.

“Chivalry will get you nowhere, human, ” Vergil gently jested back, holding back a small laugh, “I will devour you whole.”

“Oh no, whatever shall I do?” you dramatized your words; placing the back of your hand on your forehead and leaning back slightly, “Someone save me,” you did your best to stifle your laughter.

He wrapped his wings around you and looked downwards at your expression, “No one will take you from me, pet. ”

“I-” your lips were slightly agape as you tried to formulate a response--Vergil had never called you that before.

However, he spoke before you could come up with anything, “What? Devil got your tongue?” he leaned in close, breath washing over your lips.

“Mmn, no,” you moved your lips even closer to his, “I wish he did though.”

Vergil cautiously connected with your lips. You moved your hands to the dark reddish-brown underside of the leathery appendages and slowly ran your fingers along the grooves. This elicited a moan from your blue devil and made him push himself against you harder. His fingers were trembling as he ghosted them along your sides, catching your attention.

Breaking off the kiss but not moving away, you whispered against his lips, “You can touch me, Vergil. You won’t hurt me,” you used your hands to push his palms to your sides.

His pupils dilated slightly, “Are you--”

You cut him off with an aggressive kiss, placing your hand on his chest and kneading into him. Not wasting any more time, Vergil came back at you with an even more intense fervor. He pushed his tongue within the confines of your mouth. A muffled moan came from your lips as Vergil used his oral mastery inside your cavern; touching everything he could and playing with your tongue.

After a minute or two, you both broke apart from the kiss. You smiled widely at him and placed a long sweet smooch on the tip of his nose; making him scrunch a bit in confusion. The two of you stood holding one another for a few minutes before you broke the serene silence.

“We should probably get going,” you sighed, “otherwise we won’t be making it to work…”

The eldest son of Sparda sighed as well, “I suppose you are right…” he picked you up bridal style as you wrapped your arm around his shoulders, “Shall we?”

You nodded as he opened the door. A sudden cold wind shot right through you as you leaned in closer to the hot-blooded devil. It was raining quite heavily so Vergil shifted you to face him completely; sheltering you the best he could from the elements, holding you underneath your thighs. With a small grunt from the devil, you two were off into the air.

The flight wasn’t very long, you were at the DMC within a half hour; however, the rain had steadily gotten worse and made it a less-than-optimal flight. Vergil decided to land on the roof rather than risk being seen on the street and quickly ushered you indoors; fearing you would fall ill.

You took off your sopping wet coat and shook your head a bit, trying to dry off. Vergil had de-triggered and, because of how hot his devil trigger is, he was bone dry as he raised a brow at your “dog-like” actions.

“What?” you looked up at him, giving him a curious smile.

“Nothing,” he gave you a smirk in return.

The two of you came downstairs, Vergil went first as you followed. Upon entering the foyer, you noticed that Vergil wasn’t kidding when Dante said “everyone”. Said red devil, Nero, Trish, Lady, and even Nico were inside the Devil May Cry; all chatting amongst themselves.

The younger twin noticed you both on the stairs and flashed a wide grin, “Glad you both could make it! Thought maybe you were going to sleep in-- Ah,” a small dagger from Vergil jabbed Dante in the arm.

You pursed your lips and stifled your laughter, quietly speaking to Vergil, “Give me your coat? I’ll go hang it.”

He stared at you from the corner of his eye for a moment before doing as you asked; delicately handing you the dark navy clothing. Vergil moved towards the bar counter to converse with Nero as everyone else resumed their conversations. With a small spring to your step, you waltzed over to the hooks near the front door and hung both your jackets. Pivoting on your heels, you went to move back into the room when you were stopped by Dante.

The red devil stood in front of you and used his forefinger and thumb to turn your head upwards; revealing the bruising on your neck. An aggressive furrow appeared on his brow as he frowned intensely.

“Dante,” you whispered so that only he could hear you, “It’s not what you think--” his turquoise eyes locked with yours before he let go of your chin. It was too late.

He turned around, “Alright,” Dante’s voice was between serious and pissed-off, a tone that was highly unlike the high-spirited brother, “What the fuck.”

Vergil tilted his head ever-so-slightly and parted his lips in confusion, squinting at his twin.

Dante made his way across the room, you followed him and tried to get him to stop, but were unable as he spoke even louder than before, “What is wrong with you?!”

The blue devil’s face only became more confused as his eyes flicked between his brother and you.

The red devil shoved Vergil, “Answer me, Vergil!”

Fearing that the two would escalate into a larger fight, you grabbed one of Dante’s arms and tugged him away, straining your sore voice, “Dante you don’t understand-”

Dante turned to you, “I think I know strangle marks when I see them,” his eyes went back to Vergil, “I'm tired of not saying anything.”

With a slight sharpness, Vergil closed his eyes and scrunched his face, “What are you talking about?”

“Don't play stupid,” Dante raised his voice even louder with a slight growl, “You think that I didn’t notice? Everyone here has noticed--fuck,” he flung his arm out, gesturing at nothing in particular, “even Morrison asked me about it!”

“What does--”

Dante's voice was unbearably loud as he yelled at his older brother, "You're fucking beating your husband, Vergil!”

The shop went silent. At this point, Nero had moved toward the couch the three ladies were sitting on, awaiting Vergil’s response.

Your eyes widened at Dante and the absurd notion he had brought forth. Knowing Dante as you do, you had figured he was going to jab at Vergil for "being too rough in bed" or something stupid--not domestic abuse. With a slightly furrowed brow, you turned to the group next to you, then back to the brothers, and noticed Vergil’s pale stare.

Vergil huffed quietly through his nose as he looked downwards, pursing his lips in thought. After a moment, he looked back up at Dante with a cold glare, "Do you really think that lowly of me, Dante?"

Dante cocked his head to the side, his voice still laced with a growl, "You know, after what you've done? Sorry, but I wouldn't put it past you."

Vergil’s face was barren of any emotion--to everyone else besides you, that is. You’ve been in a relationship long enough with the stone-faced slayer that it was painfully obvious how much Dante’s accusation hurt him. Unable to think of what to say, he just stood there and glared at his twin.

"I ain't letting this go, Vergil. I'll stand here all fuckin--" a loud crack of thunder cut Dante off as the power went out in the shop.

You weren't sure what happened, but the next thing you knew, you were on the floor and a sin-triggered Vergil was encompassing your surroundings. It was overwhelmingly hot as you felt his wings and arms tighten around you, pushing you further into his chest. The blue-grey devil shook wildly as a continuous thunderous growl emanated from deep within his chest. At any other point, it would have been a nice feeling; however, the loud sounds, sweltering heat, and the bright blue light from his chest made your headache turn from bad to agonizing.

Through the loud rumbling, you could vaguely make out Dante speaking; something about Vergil overreacting. Then you felt Vergil shift slightly and heard a loud yelp from the younger twin. There was a loud shuffling of hasty movement from the couch beside the two of you which made Vergil snarl even louder.

Lady could be heard telling Dante to “back off” of (presumably) Vergil. You then a loud creak of the garage door being opened and more shuffling feet. The last thing you heard from the rest of the crew was Nero saying something unintelligible and shutting the door. Leaving Vergil and you alone in the foyer.

This was the first time Vergil had done something like this and you were unsure how to calm him down; so you just slowly wriggled your hand free and kneaded into the bright blue lines of your lover’s chest, “Hey,” you whispered in hopes of catching his attention, “It’s alright, Vergil.”

His growling quieted a bit, however, his grip tightened into an almost painfully tight vice.

A small grunting groan left your lips as you spoke again, “Vergil, we are okay. I’m okay,” you heard his growling subside further, “It’s okay, darling. We are safe, inside the Devil May Cry,” you leaned your head into his chest and kneaded harder against him, “It was just thunder. It’s okay--we are okay.”

You continued to intermittently tell the blue devil various forms of grounding statements as he slowly calmed down; loosening his grip and quieting his thundering growl. Although he doesn’t have to breathe when in this form, you heard soft whistling as he took small short breaths in through his sharpened teeth. His shaking had subsided as well; only moving with the reverberations of his small breaths.

A grin tugged at your lips as you heard a small distant start of a purr from your kneading, “It’s alright, my love. Nothing is going to harm us…”

Finally, he pulled back from your body. He placed his palms flat on the floor next to you and kept his wings around you, just much looser now. His pupil-less luminescent eyes just stared at you, leaving you to assume he was looking over your body for any sign of injury.

Very carefully, you moved your hands to the sides of his face and gently thumbed over the leathery denim-colored skin, “Hey…”

He leaned forward placing his forehead against yours and closed his eyes, showing you that he was coming back around. You placed a long tender kiss against his fangs and heard him purr louder.

As quiet as he could manage with his distorted voice, Vergil whispered to you, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you smiled and gently jested, “head’s killin’ me though and the floors kinda cold” you laughed and moved your hands to the gap of skin between his shoulder pauldrons and neck, kneading with your fingers, “Are you alright, Vergil?”

Vergil nodded slightly, “Yes,” feeling the soft touch of your fingers against him, he allowed himself to de-trigger; slowly switching to his regular trigger and then his human form. All the while, you continued to massage his shoulders and tried your best to ignore the throbbing in your skull; wanting nothing more than to rip your head off.

The blue devil’s breath was ragged and he avoided looking you in the eyes. When he went to sit upwards, you grabbed his forearms, gaining his attention, “Vergil,” your voice was barely audible.

After waiting a moment, Vergil cocked his head slightly, “What is it?”

“Could,” you pursed your lips with embarrassment, “Could you help me up?”

Vergil nodded, ��Of course.”

The eldest twin stood up and then leaned forwards to help you upright. You stumbled into him as you felt nauseously lightheaded.

Noticing this, Vergil held one of your arms, “Steady…”

You used your other hand to grab his shoulder and did your best to adjust to standing. He looked over to the couch and then back to you; before slowly picking you up and setting you on the pleather surface. Not wanting him to leave you, you grabbed his tie and tugged it slightly.

“I will be right back,” he grabbed the hand from the tan fabric and kissed it gently; which surprised you because of his distaste for out-of-house affections.

It was then that you noticed how quiet the shop was and how dark it was; the power had gone out completely. A loud creak from the garage door made you scrunch your face in slight pain. Vergil stood in the doorway and said nothing before moving back to stand near Dante’s desk.

You noticed a large cut through Dante’s shirt and realized that Vergil had used his tail to defend you from the red twin. Thankfully, Dante could heal quickly otherwise it might have been a trip to the ER from how large the incision seemed to be.

“So care to explain what the fuck that was?” Dante’s voice was loud, as normal; however, it felt like he was shouting right beside you.

Vergil noticed your discomfort and addressed his brother, “Quiet, you are being much too loud,” he flicked his gaze to you, “and no; I don’t.”

The younger twin’s face scrunched in irritation. Before he could speak, Lady cut him off by roughly slamming her hand atop his shoulder, “Maybe the two of you should go home for the day? Dante can text you the information later on.”

“Are you sure?” Vergil raised a brow at the sudden personable suggestion, “Or would Dante rather yell more absurd accusations at me?”

The red devil growled, forgetting to keep quiet, “You son of--”

“Watch your tongue. Mother is right here,” he flicked his eyes to the photo on Dante’s desk.

“I fuckin--”

You scrunched your face harshly and hoarsely snapped, “Oh my g-god,” you groaned, “Vergil isn’t beating me and I have a fuckin major headache. I thank you for your concern Dante, but it is misplaced… so can you please just drop it?”

The younger twin shook his head, “You expect me to--”

“It is a result of my night terrors and we are dealing with it ourselves,” Vergil said curtly, despite not wanting to talk about it. Then turned to address Lady, “I think we will take you up on that suggestion and leave,” the blue devil moved to grab your coats from the wall “Keep us informed..?"

No one responded as Vergil handed you your coat and you put it on as best you could while sitting. You wobbled a bit as you went to stand, but, a set of strong arms picked you up. A small blush found its way to your face as you realized Vergil was carrying you from underneath your thighs in front of everyone else.

Nero was the only one to address either of you as you headed up to the stairs, “Fly safe; winds pretty bad out there.”

Vergil nodded in thanks to his son as the two of you disappeared from view, heading to the roof. You nestled your face into the crook of Vergil’s neck, taking a deep calming breath. It didn’t take long for you to sleep--or rather pass out--in the blue devil’s arms and it stayed that way till you got home.

When you opened your eyes next, you were laying underneath the duvet of your shared bed. Slowly blinking awake, you mumbled, “Vergil?” and felt around to see if he was nearby. Nothing.

A hissing groan left your lips as you sat up and looked at the alarm clock. It had been several hours since you left the shop. You stretched upwards and immediately regretted it.

“Fuck,” you groaned as you grabbed your head with one hand, the headache from earlier surged back into existence.

In hopes to remedy this, you decided to try taking a hot bath. The moment you stood up, however, you fell forwards and just barely caught yourself with your forearms. A small laugh of disbelief escaped through your painful groan, it was really just not your day.

The sound of a familiar sharp voice calling your name pulled you from your thoughts. You slowly moved your head upwards and saw Vergil standing above you with a wide-eyed confused stare. He was wearing a space-blue sleeveless turtleneck with black yoga pants.

Admittedly, you weren’t exactly in a normal headspace when you cooed at the blue devil, “Ooh! You’re even prettier at this angle, Vergil.”

The blue devil crouched in front of you and rested his forearms on his legs, “I leave you for five minutes and you end up on the floor?”

With parted lips and raised brows, you eyed him up and down, “Was my plan all along since, from here, I get a really good view of your--”

Vergil put up a hand telling you to stop, pinching the bridge of his nose with a sigh, “Would you like help up?”

“Nah,” you jested and rolled over to face the ceiling, “I like being stuck on the floor,” a sly smirk tugged at your lips as you tilted your head back, “especially when we’re--”

“Enough,” Vergil sighed and moved to help you upright into a soft embrace.

You sighed and leaned into him, “You know I love you, right Vergil?”

“Perhaps I should take you to the hospital, you are acting in a very concerning manner…”

“No way in hell am I going to the doctor,” you pulled back and had a small pout on your lips, “I just need you beside me and I feel much better…”

“That seems rather counter-intuitive, don’t you think?” his voice had an outlying tinge of sadness as he looked down at you.

“Not in the slightest. In fact,” you moved your hands to his chest, “I already am starting to feel better in your arms.”

He avoided your eyes and had a small sad frown. A deep sharp pang of sadness stabbed at your heart at seeing him look so dejected.

You used a hand to cup the cheek facing away from you and gently turned him back to face you, “Vergil, care to join me for a bath?” you knew that he was still beating himself up over things and wanted to distract him for a while.

A soft huffed laugh came from his nose as he closed his eyes in slight confusion, “What..?”

“Come on, you need a break… to relax,” you cocked your head to the side, “Please?” you gave him the best puppy dog eyes you could muster.

Which seemed to do the trick as he sighed with a smirk “If that is what you want then I will accompany you.”

You pulled his face down to yours and gave him a small peck on the cheek, “Thank you, Vergil.”

Although the blue devil was hesitant to let you go, you eventually wander off with a very wobbly saunter. Slowly, you moved to the dresser and began to grab some clothing when you heard Vergil murmur, “I’ll go draw it up and I’ll be back for you; please try and stay upright,” then he left the room.

Your headache had subsided for the most part and was just a dull throbbing now. However, you still wanted to lay with him for a while, knowing that he needed it as much as you did. A warm smile crept its way to your face as you moved toward the edge of the bed to sit until he came back. You decided to lean over to the side table and grab your phone, checking it for any messages. Surprisingly, Dante and Nero had texted you.

The younger twin had sent a rather all-over-the-place paragraph explaining that he was sorry for the outburst in the shop and that he was just worried that something was going on. You sent Dante a text explaining that it was nice of him to worry but that, before he goes off, he needs to listen better.

Nero was making sure that both of you were alright and that if either of you needed anything to let him know.

Before you were able to respond, Vergil walked back into the room, “Are you ready?” his voice was very quiet and meek; catching you off guard.

“Yeah just gimme one second, just gotta send this…” Vergil looked at you with a slightly curious head tilt, you smiled at him, “Nero was just making sure everything was okay.”

“I see,” Vergil gave a weak grin.

“Nero’s worried about you,” you set the phone back down on the table and grabbed one of Vergil’s hands, “He’s a good kid, ya know? You’re one lucky dad.”

With a small shake of his head, Vergil pulled you off the bed, “Need I remind you that he is technically your son, too?”

You laughed and pursed your lips, “Sometimes I forget that part if I’m honest,” the two of you slowly made your way to the bathroom, “Especially since we are like the same age--you cougar,” with a playful wink you let go of Vergil’s hand to get undressed.

Vergil’s face scrunched, “You make it sound as if I am too old for you.”

Playfully, you shoved his shoulder, “Bah- you don’t look a day over 30; besides,” you paused a moment as you watched Vergil remove his shirt, “I like older men~”

“Those two statements contradict each other,” he noticed your gaze as he slid his pants off, “However, I appreciate the sentiment.”

Once you both were fully stripped, Vergil helped you into the tub; fearing you would fall, “Hey, Vergil..?” he looked at you, “Can you sit in, like,” with pursed lips, you tried to figure out how to explain what you wanted, “in my lap? Like with your back to me?”

“I-” he raised a brow and turned his lips to a thin line, “May I ask why?”

A smile ghosted your face as you cooed, “I want to be able to play with your hair.”

The blue devil was a little apprehensive at allowing such an action, but he did as you requested; positioning himself in front of you. His shoulders tensed up at the sudden feeling of vulnerability and being so exposed to you--even if the two of you have been together for a long time now. Noticing this, you gently wrapped your arms around his middle and leaned him back into you while you leaned back yourself; ending up in a semi-lying position.

Tenderly, you ran your fingers through his neatly slicked back locks, “You alright, Vergil?”

With a small stuttering inhale, Vergil rested further against you, “Yes…”

A faint purring came from the blue devil as he relaxed against your touch. The two of you just sat in the warm soapy water for nearly fifteen minutes, laying against each other.

Vergil shifted a bit to lay the side of his head on your chest before meekly whispering, “I love you,” typically, this would have made you ecstatic hearing him say such a thing; but there was an underlying sullen tone to the phrase.

You moved one of your hands to grab his while keeping up your ministrations through his hair, “I love you too, Vergil--more than anything.”

“May I ask you something? And I want you to answer me honestly,” his eyes were glued to your fingers that were intertwined with his own.

“Sure,” you removed your fingers from his hair and set that hand on his shoulder.

“Are,” with each word his voice became quieter, “Are you afraid of me?”

“No,” you answered without skipping a beat, “I will never be afraid of you, no matter what...”

Another bout of silence fell as you felt him lean harder into you while taking slow deep breaths.

“May--,” the Dark Slayer closed his eyes and spoke in a hushed voice, “May I confide in you for a moment?”

“Of course, my love,” you leaned and kissed the top of his head attempting to reassure the man.

He sighed and turned further into your chest, hiding his face, “N-Nothing scares me more than causing you pain,” you felt his brow furrow, “These past few months, have been spurred on by a combination of that fear and,” he had a lump begin to form in his throat, “and my time spent under Mundus’s…” he swallowed audibly in an attempt to deter his emotions.

You squeezed his hand tightly and you moved your other hand back to his hair, hoping to console him a bit.

Which worked, he took a shuddering breath and continued, “In my dreams--” he pursed his lips and unintentionally pushed himself as hard as he could into you, “I’m always back as- and I can’t,” he paused once more, realizing that this is much harder than he had anticipated, “control myself and I-I don’t know that it’s-- until it’s too late,” his voice cracked into silence as he gripped your hand in a vice hold.

That was enough for you to put together what he meant as your eyes widened. You whispered and moved your hand from his hair to his shoulder, holding him close, “Vergil…” you didn’t know what to do--how to help him.

All you could think to do was to hold him close and comfort him as he cried into your chest. You knew that he had nightmares about his time of being enslaved to Mundus and the other atrocities that have happened to the poor blue devil. Throughout your time together, Vergil had told you about that time and has even sought comfort in you when he was upset.

A meek whisper pulled you from your thoughts, “I’m sorry,” he sighed heavily, “I know this is substandard behavior.”

“Vergil,” you kneaded his bicep, “This is normal behavior, you don’t have to be strong all the time,” placing a soft kiss on the top of his head, you murmured, “You’re human--you have emotions; both good and bad.”

“I feel as if I have disappointed you,” despite his sad tone, a light purring could be heard from him--indicating he was at least comfortable.

“You could never disappoint me, Vergil--especially over something like this. Things take time to heal and even then they still leave scars; you aren’t to blame for what has happened, my love.”

“I do not understand how after what I have done in my lifetime,” his voice cracked with a tinge of frustration as he sat upright. His front side was facing out of the tub toward the innards of the room, leaving you to see his side profile, “Why you still believe me to be a good person…”

“Vergil,” you moved to sit up as well, no longer resting your back on the tub, “I don’t believe that you are a good person; I know you are a good person,” you watched his adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed his emotions again, “I wouldn’t have married you if I didn’t.”

A thin pained grin adorned his features as he turned his face from you; hiding the fact he had begun to cry once more.

“People do bad things,” you shrugged your shoulders a bit in thought, “that doesn’t make them a bad person. Traumatic experiences make people do things that otherwise might not have.” you paused and thought for a moment, “Vergil, you have been punished ten-fold by everyone your entire life, even for things that you had no control over. Which is total shit. You deserve to be treated well and like a living breathing person. I know you are a good person because you have shown me that many times over; you are worthy of love, Vergil.”

Vergil let out a loud shuttering exhale and turned his head to look at you with pursed lips. He wanted to say something, anything, but all he could muster was a small whimper of acknowledgment.

Moving to your knees, you spoke softly, “Is there anything that I can do to help you with these nightmares?”

“I,” after a small pause in thought, he turned to come face to face with you and grabbed your hands in his, “Could you promise me something?”

“Anything.”

“If we get into any altercations with,” he avoided your eyes with an increasing embarrassment eating the edges of his mind, “Angelo-type demons, please, leave them to me; please..?”

Your brow twitched in confusion as you cocked your head to the side; that’s when things clicked and you remembered what happened shortly before these terrors began, “Sure, if that is what brings you solace then I will,” you smiled, trying to make him feel a little better.

“Thank you,” his eyes re-connected with yours and he gave a small smirk.

The two of you sat for a brief moment before you pursed your lips and smiled semi-awkwardly, “I hate to ruin the moment, but could we get out of the water? I’m kinda cold…”

Vergil straightened his posture and nodded, “Of course, wanderer,” he moved to get out of the water and held his hands out for yours.

You grabbed them and wobbly got up, “Oh? I haven’t heard you use that in a long time.”

A small huffed laugh came from the blue devil as he handed you a towel, “It was the first nickname I gave you. I thought it appropriate for the moment…”

“It was wasn’t it?” you shook your head, “That feels like a lifetime ago…”

“In a sense, it was quite literally,” he leaned over and drained the tub.

With a small laugh and nod, you finished drying off. While the two of you got dressed, you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of your lover.

“Is something wrong?” Vergil noticed your stare.

Pursing your lips you thought for a moment and decided to indulge in his love for Blake’s poems, “ 'Joy & Woe are woven fine,/A Clothing for the Soul divine;/Under every grief & pine,/Runs a joy with silken twine.' "

An amused look adorned his face as he stood with parted lips thinking for a moment, “Auguries of Innocence?” the Dark Slayer cupped the side of your face, “We never did finish that poem; you’d always fall asleep.”

“Not my fault you have such a soothing voice,” you placed your hands on his chest and leaned into his palm, “Want to try again?”

He leaned against your forehead, “If it is alright with you, I think I’d rather sleep…”

“Only if you stay beside me,” you looked into his icy eyes; enamored with the thousands of different blue-grey hues, “please..?”

“Are you sure-- Mnm,” he was cut off by a sudden connection of your lips.

It was a slow and passionate kiss as you poured all the love you could into that one moment. Once satisfied, you left the kiss and whispered against his lips, “I wouldn’t have it any other way, Vergil.”

Without another word, he picked you up and took you into the bedroom. Carefully, he set you down and crawled into bed with you. A small lingering sense of dread crept in from the edges of his mind; however, those were pushed away when you laid atop his chest. You curled into him and he tangled his limbs with yours.

As the two of you drifted off to sleep, Vergil had a very small content grin as he allowed himself to sleep; knowing that, at least for tonight, his terrors will be kept at bay.

Ending Notes: Sorry that was lowkey all over the place, I just went with the flow of my brain. It kind of just ended up being a long fluff fic. Also to add some explanation to Vergil’s bit where he swore and freaked out: I figure that when Vergil lost his autonomy for so long as Nelo Angelo, he ended up becoming hyper-aware of what he is doing at all times. So when he does something that he either can’t remember doing or didn’t want to do that it would send him into a panic; fearing that he is going to lose his freedom again. 🛡️⚔️🛡️ Poem quoted: Auguries of Innocence: William Blake

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