#i’m still not taking medication so this is just everything coming at me raw which might not seem like a good idea but i… want to feel everyt

[upgradebitch]

this project is going to kill me

#like SO MUCHgrowth and balls and discipline is required from i who has just gotten better at leaving the house more than once a week a few #months ago but it’s good i’m just terrified of bungling it up and ihave to be so vulnerable and constantly change my mindset and perspective #and my brain hurts and my chest is TIGHT and i have to get used to making mistakes and actually learning from them and i can just taste the #finality of it all but i know that it is GOOD because i WANT these changes and i WANT to be smarter and braver #it is exhausting and terrible but i know it will be glorious if i can just PUSH. and not freeze in fear anymore #i’m still not taking medication so this is just everything coming at me raw which might not seem like a good idea but i… want to feel everyt #hing? exposure therapy in place of actual therapy because she’s on annual leave ha. as long as i know i’m doing the best i can along with #making my shifts and keeping up with people i care about inbetween and learn how to budget and looking for a probably secondhand dslr camera #for a good price on time and talking to more people than i can stand and trying not to perform while not acting like an emotionally #constipated child at the same time and #making sure i give myself time to STUDY and rest but mostly STUDY #after all this is done i’m going to apply for an adhd assessment and sleep for 3 days

[munsonology]

I don't know if you enjoy reading pregnant OC or reader stuff, but do you know how my mom found out she was pregnant? (Note apparently she was very very irregular, which I inherited).

It was NOT her peeing a lot more then normal (she thought it was because she was trying to increase her water intake and it was a natural side effect).

It was NOT her suddenly thinking the smell of hamburger meat was the worst thing in the world (she thought it was just bad and that the store must of had a bad batch...3 times and then her and my dad swore it off. My dad had no clue cause he had his nose broken more then once and claims since then he can't smell accurately). (Lucky her she never had morning sickness)

It was NOT her crying once a week (while she is stoic, she thought it was because she had been reading a book series that had multiple people dying or tragic events that just got her).

It was her fainting at work and being taken to the hospital. Apparently my dad showed up panicked and was like "IS SHE DYING WHATS GOING ON" and both him and her still had no clue until the doc came in and was like "hey you fainted cause your iron is low cause you're pregnant"

Now imagine this but Eddie. Or Steve. After many times of acting out their breeding kinks it actually stuck

my parents are two bumbling idiots in love (they are actually very smart but both had plausible explanations for everything) and that is the core of both Eddie and Steve romances.

Omg!!! I love pregnant stories! I do wanna be a mom eventually so this is so lovely! And thank you for sharing about your parents 😍

Your mom reminds me of those women on I didn’t know I was pregnant who don’t know they’re having a kid until it’s time to give birth 😭 I think this show is on TLC and you know they’ll put anything on tv

And why do those amazon kindle books always have someone find out they’re pregnant/give birth with the most outrageous/near death experiences?????

But yeah I can so imagine Eddie or Steve raw doggin you and being like “I’m gonna put a baby in you. Wanna see you full with my kid.” But it’s all play! You haven’t planned for kids yet!

So when you start having all these weird symptoms but you don’t question anything. You’re still taking your birth control pills and you’re spotting a bit but you’ve always been irregular.

But you pass out in front of Robin and she goes “don’t die Steve will kill me if you’re dead loser” 😭 and Steve rushes into the ER and you just blurt out you’re pregnant and he’s so in shock and robins know the back giggling “guess you won’t be the only one calling him daddy now huh” 😭 A MENACE

Now with Eddie I can see you really not knowing you’re pregnant until it’s time to give birth. You had no symptoms, hardly any physical body changes typical with pregnancy. But you have a really bad stomach ache at the hideout. They just started serving some new menu items to bring in more customers and you’re hunched over on the toilet.

Dustin (who really shouldn’t be in this bar 😭) is coming back from the bathroom himself and he hears you groaning. After everything they’ve been through he’s not taking any chances. So he goes in the bathroom and sees you covered in sweat with the stall open and he’s like “I’ll get Eddie” but he’s on stage with the CC boys to a sold out crowd so you tell him “there’s no time! You need to help me Henderson! Get in here!”

He has the highest grade in health class but everything he knows is on dolls and diagrams. It’s so chaotic in this bathroom! He gags and almost passes out himself. but he pulls through and helps you give birth to your first kid with Eddie.

Back at the bar the group wonder where you two wandered off. When they all see dustin covered in blood they panic thinking the worst but he takes everyone to the bathroom to see you holding a baby in Dustin’s jacket. At the hospital you and Eddie ask dustin to be your baby’s godfather 😭

So when my mom was giving birth to me there was this medical student group coming by that wanted to see a live birth and she was hell no gtfo 💀 so her doctor kicked them out. And after my birth she asked for a coke 😭 apparently you can’t have coke when pregnant so she was drinking sprite for 9 months! The torture 😭

#eddie munson/reader #eddie munson fem!reader #fem reader #pregnant!reader #steve harrington x female reader #eddie munson x female reader #steve harrington/female reader #steve harrington/fem!reader #steve harrington/you #steve harrington/reader #steve harrington fanfic #eddie munson fan fiction

[that-gay-guy-from-hell]

Bound by Blood: Reader & Sparda Bloodline (Platonic)

SUMMARY: It all started on that fateful day, the day everything went up in flames. You’ve been forced to walk a life you’d never imagined. All in the name of avenging your brothers; Dante and Vergil. Who, unannounced to you, are still very much alive and are wandering the endless wasteland called Hell; the endless wasteland you’d called “home” for over three decades.

EDIT AS OF 7/12/2023: I am re-writing this entire fic. I don't really like how it turned out plus all of the half-finished/patrial story bits I have in here are kind of not up to my standard. Please still give this a read, it took me a REALLY long time to finish this, but just know that this is going to be redone. Thanks for understanding, have a great day/night!! :)))

Requested by @loshpen! :))) 

*Slams this down like a dictionary* HERE TAKE IT. THIS IS OVER 25,000 WORDS; HOLY SHIT-- *dies*

BEGINNING NOTES: ⚠️Please read these, they are important⚠️

➖➖➖ ⧳ It is EXTREMELY encouraged to read the “General Headcanons” before reading this story; it helps things make more sense. Otherwise, you get lost and/or confused. VERGIL IS WEARING HIS DEFAULT OUTFIT FROM DMC 5 NOT THE DEVIL HUNTER ONE; he does have V’s tattoos though. ⧲Universe typical violence: Blood, guts, gore, (mentioned) throwing up, bruising, broken bones, etc.  ⧳Talk of the reader eating raw meat (idk if I need to warn about that or not, rather be safe than sorry) ⧲Talk about abuse/manipulation/torture from Argosax towards the reader; it is not super in-depth, however, it is mentioned and talked about the reader basically having Stockholm syndrome.  ⧳Switches between 2nd and 3rd person; I tried to make it seamless but it is a little rough. ➖➖➖ ⧲ G/N Reader & Sparda family; the reader is the younger sibling to Dante and Vergil, making you Nero’s “Pibling” (which is the G/N term for aunt/uncle) ⧳The reader is a year younger than the twins; born in the fall.  ⧲Little less ambiguous than I typically try to write. I needed to have something to work on for the reader’s personality and stuff, so sorry if it doesn’t line up with you per se--I tried lmao ➖➖➖ ⧲Sparda is a soft old man--just let me have this. ⧳Vergil has emotional outbursts because of what happened with V/Urizen. ⧲Dante’s amulet is silver and Vergil’s is bronze; I’m using DMC3 as canon colors, not DMC1. ⧳Since you are a part of the Sparda family, you are in the painting from the mantel. You’re placed front right--the observer’s right--next to Sparda.  ⧲I know the reader wouldn’t get over things so quickly, but (again) just let me have this. ⧳MINOR SPOILER: The Sparda when you are younger is not “Force Edge” because the proper owner, who at the time was Sparda, has control of it. So when everything happens and you don’t have your sword, it goes into its dormant state, which it then has to be forced out of (or it would’ve had to reunite with you.). ➖➖➖ ⧲I don’t personally have a good relationship with my sibling; in fact, I don’t consider them to be my sibling. So, I don’t know how siblings interact. ⧳I also didn’t have much of a relationship with either of my parents until I was in high school (because I live in America where parents are worked to death and their kids never get to see them). ⧲I ALSO have the ‘tism so I don’t know how kids typically act.  ➖➖➖ (I will remove this section once I get my Argo/Mundus H/Cs out) ⧳Argosax’s personality (or lack thereof) has been scrapped. I think them being a psychopath (in the medical sense) makes for a much better character. Argosax can easily convince others to follow their orders--opposite Mundus who does everything through force.  ⧳Bolverk has been retconned to be Argo’s bodyguard/general (basically Argosax’s Nelo Angelo but willingly or Pre-woke Sparda).  ⧲Argo’s stronger than Mundus, but Mundus’s army is more substantial than Argo’s.

THE ENDING IS NOT PROOFREAD, I JUST WANTED TO UPLOAD THIS (I’ll come back and fix it up later.)

STORY START:

“Shhhhh--” Eva weakly reached out for the crying child that was in the midwife’s arms, “It’s alright."

     After a few minutes of her rocking the new child, the room fell completely silent. Despite how joyful Eva should feel, she couldn’t help but stare somberly at her newborn. 

     A quiet creak came from the door as a large platinum-haired devil entered. It was her husband and the child’s father, Sparda. His typically brash loud voice was beyond soft and gentle as he slowly shut the door behind him, “Eva?” 

     Her eyes flicked up to him before they returned down to their newest baby. 

     Sparda moved into the room, standing next to the bed with a dejected look on his brow, “Their… condition has not gotten any better I take it?”

     Eva gave a small slow side-glance to her husband; giving him his answer.

     A loud slam caught everyone’s attention. The door that Sparda had gently shut was now wide open; so much so, that the knob was digging into the wall behind it. In the frame of the door were the couple’s first children, Vergil and Dante. Before anyone responded to their sudden appearance, they bolted into the room. 

     Dante squealed in excitement, “See! I told you, Verge!” The two were intercepted by Sparda, who picked them both up by their shirt collars.

     “Why are you out of bed? I thought I told you to stay in your room,” Sparda’s voice was sharp but still quiet, not wanting to upset Eva or wake the baby. 

     Vergil pouted, “But--” 

     “It is alright, Love,” Eva’s voice was soft as she gave a meek smile, “If they can behave then they may stay for a moment.” Although it pained her to admit it, she knew that this might be the only chance for the twins to see the baby alive. 

     Sparda hesitated before releasing the boys. As quickly and quietly as they could, they ran to the edges of the bed. Sparda waltzed over and held up Vergil while the midwife held Dante. 

     After a minute or two, Vergil spoke as he tilted his head in confusion, “Why does it look like that?” 

     “Vergil!” Sparda growled at his son.

     Eva sighed and looked down to watch the sleeping newborn as it wiggled slightly, “They are unwell,” her voice cracked as she spoke. 

     Dante smiled, not understanding what she meant, “Well, when are they gonna be better? I want to play with them!”

     Eva swallowed audibly and gave a pained smile, “Soon, hopefully…”

     Days turned to weeks, weeks to months, and soon it had been a year since the child had been born. Despite all the odds, it continued to live. There were of course several days and nights spent watching with great concern, but the child always managed to pull through. Sparda had begun to equate it as the “runt” of the “litter” and referred to them as such. It wasn’t meant with ill intent, however, Eva wasn’t exactly fond of it, but the name wasn’t far off from the truth.

     Unlike the twins, their third child’s development was closer to that of a human; both physically and mentally. Not a single glimpse of a sign of having any devilish heritage or urges had been seen. In stark contrast to the two older children who, at this age, were nearly burning down the house whenever they threw a tantrum or didn’t get their way. This child was rather amicable, putting up little to no fuss; never even throwing a tantrum to begin with. Which would reflect the way the child would deal with things later in life; the way you would deal with things later in life. 

     When you turned two, your “slow” development sparked a very important conversation between Eva and Sparda; how should they raise you? At this rate, you wouldn’t be able to start learning things until you were of the correct human age, unlike the twins who were only three and learning at a second-grade level. 

     You had also shown a severe, borderline unhealthy, attachment to Eva and were very afraid of Sparda. He hadn't done anything that would cause you to be so terrified. Admittedly, he was a little hurt that his child won't let him anywhere near them. The couple figured that perhaps it is because you seemed to be more “human-like” that it caused you to inherently fear devils and demons.

     After many long discussions and some mild arguments, it was decided that you would be raised like a human. That you would attend human schools and human activities. To be treated as such just in general life around the house and town--which meant no training or lessons from Sparda. Once they laid out what they were going to do, the twins were informed of the decision; which was rather important, since the pair were already trying to get you to tussle or adventure with them. 

     Vergil and Dante were confused about their parents' choice; why were you going to be treated so differently? Sure, you weren’t exactly like them but you had the capability to play alongside them. This was dismissed by both of your parents, as they insisted that you weren’t like the twins--that this is how it has to be. However, when your parents weren’t looking; your brothers taught you what they could. Vergil taught you basic reading and math while Dante taught you more hands-on things, refining your motor skills.

     When you turned six, the twins decided to teach you things that Sparda had taught them. Dante taught you more hand-to-hand based things while Vergil taught you about proper weapon usage. You did well, much better than the twins were expecting after what they heard. If your Father or Mother won’t teach you then they feel that it was their responsibility, as your older siblings, to do so. 

     One night after everyone was in bed, the silver-haired twins unintentionally eavesdropped on a conversation about your upcoming seventh birthday. Underneath their bedroom was a large library that Sparda often visited late at night, however, it seems that Eva decided to join him. Currently, they were lightly arguing about what they were going to give you. 

     You were already past the age that Sparda gave the twins the heirlooms from his side, which the bronze devil wasn't exactly thrilled about. Sparda continued to insist upon giving you a weapon because, “--even if you were to be raised human, you are still his kin; devils and demons alike will want, and try, to kill you.” 

     Eva, however, was well within her right to be concerned. You still weren’t showing any signs of demonic heritage and most of Sparda’s gear is too heavy for you to lift or use. Besides, "If something were to happen, Dante and Vergil will be there to protect you.” All she wanted was for you to be raised a normal human child which doesn’t include demonic weapons; especially the one that Sparda was talking about. Before the twins could hear the verdict of the conversation, they both fell fast asleep. 

==

     Time seemed to fly over the next few months and it was finally your birthday. Although none of you knew it, this would be the last of your birthdays that you spent with your entire family. 

     “Tag!” Dante’s index finger jabbed your shoulder as he pivoted around, sprinting through the leaves. 

     “Hey!!” You ran after him, stumbling a bit; however, you continued nipping at the red devil’s heels. 

     “Tch,” Vergil sat on the porch stoop. He looked up from his book, raising a sharp brow at the two of you, “How childish--!”

     A wide toothy grin decorated your face as you poked his shoulder, “Tag! You’re it!” Then you took off, high-fiving Dante in the process.

     He stared for a moment, deciding if he was going to participate; since it was your birthday, he decided to swallow his pride and play along. With a heavy sigh, Vergil shut his book with a loud thump and placed it inside the front door. A small happy smile unknowingly tugged at his lips as he shook his head, taking off after the two of you.

     The three of you darted throughout the yard as Sparda watched from the window. 

     “Our Runt is keeping up well with the twins,” Sparda turned to his wife who had just finished placing dinner in the oven, “Perhaps we are wrong to assume--”

     “Sparda,” Eva sighed, “The boys are probably holding back so they can play together.”

     He opened his mouth but decided to keep it to himself. His lips turned to a thin line as he turned back to watch. 

     “You’re it,” Vergil’s voice was monotone as he tapped your shoulder.

     You let out a surprised sputter, “How?!” 

     Both Dante and you stopped as you stared at the eldest sibling. 

     “What?” Vergil tilted his head to the side and folded his arms.

     Dante smiled and laughed, “Since when can you do that?”

     Vergil’s brow furrowed in confusion, “What?” In a cocky manner, he teleported to right in front of the two of you, leaning forwards, “Surprised?”

     The two of you nodded before you reached out slowly and poked him, “Tag.”

     Vergil’s eyes went wide, “Wha..?” 

     Dante busted out into loud laughter with tears springing to his eyes. 

     Vergil frowned in irritation and aggressively “tapped” Dante on the head, “Tag.”

     The three of you resumed your scampering (and teleporting in Vergil’s case) around the yard, slipping and falling in the leaves several times. Despite what your parents thought, the twins never held back or handicapped themselves to play with you. They were just as rough and fast with you as they are with each other… Well, maybe not as rough but definitely as fast. The game finally ended when Dante fell face-first into a large muddy section of the lawn, taking an unintended mud bath. 

     The three of you came back inside. You all left your muddy dirty clothes and boots by the door and made your way to the kitchen. Dante ran in to give both your parents a hug but was promptly stopped by Eva sticking out her hand to stop him.

     “Dante,” Eva let out a small laugh, “What happened to you?”

     “I fell,” Dante gave her a wide goofy smile.

     “You need to get washed up,” she shook her head and patted his mud-encrusted hair softly, “Definitely your Father’s child.”

     Before Sparda could question his wife, she walked off with Dante. Then he turned his attention to his remaining children. 

     The two of you sat next to one another on the living room couch. Vergil had grabbed the book that he was reading outside earlier and had picked up where he left off. This wasn’t uncommon for Sparda’s eldest to immediately jump back into whatever literature he was reading before being interrupted. However, this time was different, this time he was reading aloud.

     “ ‘Here alone I in books formd of metals/Have written the secrets of wisdom/The secrets of dark contemplation/By fightings and conflicts dire,/With terrible monsters Sin-bred:/Which the bosoms of all inhabit;/Seven deadly Sins of the soul.’.”

     “Vergil?” Your voice was soft, not wanting to upset him by interrupting.

     “Hm?” He watched you point to a drawing next to the poem.

     “Who’s that?”

     “The author’s rendition of what they think Urizen might look like. Urizen is the subject of this section of poems,” Vergil felt something on his shoulder and looked over. Only to find that you had leaned against his arm and were nodding at his answer.

     The eldest continued through the collection of poems as you intently listened along; telling you the tale of Urizen. 

     “Vergil?”

     “Hm?”

     “Is Egypt a real place?”

     Vergil laughed quietly, “Yes, it is quite far away. Maybe someday we can visit there together.”

     “I’d like that,” you smiled, “We could read this again there, too!”

     “Sure, if that is what you wish.” 

     You nodded vigorously, excited at the idea of traveling the world with your brothers--especially if you get to hear Vergil read more. 

     Vergil leaned his head atop yours and waited a moment before whispering, “Hey…”

     “Hm?”

     “I…” Vergil’s brow furrowed as he thought for a moment, he sighed, “I’m glad you are still alive.”

     If you hadn't known about your odd illness as a baby, this comment would've seemed rather menacing. However, you were well aware of how sick you were and knew he was trying to be nice.

     Your voice was loud and laced with an overflowing, almost sickly, amount of love, “I’m glad too!” You removed yourself from his shoulder and yanked his head down to yours, kissing him on the cheek, “I love you lots, Vergie.”

     He stared at you for a moment before sheepishly looking away, “I love you too.”

     The loud pitter-patter of running footsteps, made Vergil lightly push you away. Suddenly there was another sibling on your other side, jumping onto the couch with a bounce. 

     “What are you doin’?” Dante had his signature smile across his face.

     “Nothing,” Vergil answered before you could.

     “Aw, were you two waiting for me~~” Dante’s voice was laced with a knowing smugness.

     “I was!” You chimed in, managing to beat Vergil to the punch.

     Dante grabbed you and gave you an aggressive noogie.

     “Dante,” Sparda folded his arms and raised his brow.

     He stopped, “Sorry..!”

     You grabbed him and did the same, ruffling up his just brushed and cleaned hair. 

     “I don’t know how you three still have so much energy,” Eva shook her head as she entered the room.

     Vergil looked up from his book, confused about why he was grouped with you two. 

     “Now,” she gently placed two boxes on the coffee table, “Would you like to open your gifts?”

     You looked up at her in confusion, releasing Dante from your grasp, “Gifts? … Oh! Yeah!” In all your fun, you had forgotten that it was your birthday.

     Eva laughed softly before handing you the first box. It was heavy-ish and rectangular. The wrapping on it was crude and chaotic, with enough tape on it that it may as well have been wrapped in tape instead. In complete contrast to an intricately and well-tied ribbon surrounding the outside of it. A warm smile spread across your face, knowing immediately who this was from; Dante and Vergil.

     The twins watched intently as you carefully undid the ribbon and the seventy layers of patchwork gift wrap. Your smile faded upon seeing what it was, but not in a bad way; no, rather, you were taken aback. It was a photo album.

     You ran your fingers delicately across the cover which had a family photo of all five of you together. Underneath it, there was a small note neatly written in calligraphy, “ ‘Pretty joy!/Sweet joy, but two days old./Sweet Joy I call thee:/Thou dost smile,/I sing the while;/Sweet joy befall thee!’ Infant Joy; William Blake.”

     A small bittersweet feeling tugged at your heart as you gingerly opened the scrapbook. Inside there were dozens upon dozens of photos, drawings, newspaper clippings, stickers, and other miscellaneous things. Most of them had dates or small snippets of information next to them, explaining why they were placed there.

     Dante whispered to you as you flipped through the book, “You know, it was Verge’s idea to make this for ya--been workin’ on it since you were born,” his voice was playful and, yet, had a sense of pride to it. Of course, this was a teasing remark in an attempt to rile Vergil up, but you knew that deep down Dante was glad that he listened to his twin for once. 

     You tilted your head in curiosity, halfway through the book the pages became blank, “Why are these empty?” 

     Vergil huffed contently, “It is so you can fill out the rest as you grow up.”

     With a small hum you turned to give him a wide close-eyed smile, “As we grow up,” you corrected him and looked back down at the gift, “Thank you both. I love it; almost as much as I love you! I'll cherish this forever.”

     Eva and Sparda shared a small laugh at your enthusiasm over, what the twins’ would’ve considered, such a "boring" gift. 

     With overly cautious gentleness, you set the heavy book down on the coffee table in front of you. Eva then handed you the second, and last, box. It was a small square box with rounded edges. The wrapping on it was excellent and it had a small bow wrapped around it; it was from your Mother, Eva. 

     You quickly ripped through the wrapping and stared at the uncovered item. The box was a black velvet color and was unlike any other box you’d seen. Upon opening it, you (and your brothers) raised a curious brow at the contents. Inside, there was a well-taken-care-of palladium chain that had a sapphire pendant; one that is similar but much smaller than the twins’ (not yet received) necklaces. 

     “That necklace,” Eva started in, catching your attention, “has been in my family for several generations and now I'm entrusting it to you,” she smiled, “I know you’ll take good care of it.”

     You got up and went to hug her, squeezing her tightly.

     “Happy birthday, sweetheart,” she placed a small kiss on your cheek.

     As she helped you put the necklace on, the twins noticed that Father had left the room. Before they could question it, however, he returned.

     “Runt,” Sparda smiled widely, “Can you close your eyes and come here?”

     “Sure!” You did as he asked, guided towards him by your Mother. 

     Sparda knelt in front of you, “You may reopen them.”

     You stared in confusion and furrowed your brow, “Huh?”

     Held between his hands was a large, over six-foot-long, blade. His right hand was on the grip of the sword and his left hand was grasping the back edge on the other end, “Happy Birthday.”

     “What!” Dante shot up from the couch, “Not fair!”

     “Dante!” Vergil elbowed Dante in the gut, making the red devil sit back down.

     You turned back to look at your brothers before your Father spoke again, “Although you may not have a use for it now, I thought it best that you get the same treatment as your brothers.”

     “What is it?” 

     Sparda looked at you with parted lips before they curled into a smile as he laughed, “It is--or, rather, will be--your sword. Just as Vergil and Dante have Yamato and Rebellion; you will have The Devil Sword Sparda.”

     A nervous shake found its way to your hands as you reached out and placed your hands on the flat side of the blade. Admittedly the weapon was rather intimidating; I mean, Father doesn’t expect you to be able to lift that, right?

     “Dad?” You meekly looked up at him.

     “Hm?”

     “Why is it named that?”

     Another laugh emanated from the large devil, “Because it is my sword.”

     “Weren’t Yamato and Rebellion yours too?”

     “Rebellion and Yamato, were mine yes. However,” he looked down at the sword, “this is my pride and joy, the one that I still use.”

     “Then why aren’t you keeping it?” 

     “Because,” he took one of his hands and patted the top of your head, “Someday you’ll need a sword too and I believe this one suited you best.”

     “Oh,” you nodded and smiled at him, “Can- Can I ask one more thing?”

     “Sure, I don’t see why not.”

     Your fingers moved closer to the spine of the sword, making you cringe slightly at the fleshy feeling, “Why is this one so… scary looking?”

     Eva laughed this time, even letting out a small snort of surprise at the odd question.

     “I…” Sparda had a baffled look as he stared at you, “Are you asking why it has organic material?”

     Once more, you nodded and gently grabbed one of the bony spines.

     “Because,” he pursed his lips in thought, “Because it is most closely related to me and I come from a place that has a lot of organic materials like this.”

     “You’re home..?” Neither you nor the twins knew much about your Father’s past, only bits and pieces, and you had always wanted to learn more about the strange man, “Can we visit there someday?”

     Sparda shook his head ‘no’, “It isn’t a place that I want any of you to see, it is…” he pursed his lips, not knowing exactly how to explain things without frightening you, “it is not a nice place…”

     “Oh…” You pushed down on the blue-grey scales, “Then how are you from there?”

     “Par-Pardon?” 

     “You’re really nice and kind to everyone,” you pushed down on the large emerald stone that was nestled in the scales, “So how are you from there if it isn’t a nice place?”

     Sparda didn’t respond.

     You looked up at your Father and saw that he was staring at you with an odd expression, “Dad?”

     “Sparda,” Eva moved next to you and gently placed a hand on her husband’s shoulder, “Is something wrong?”

     The room became uncomfortably quiet. Both twins were staring at the three of you and you had removed your hand from the sword, opting to hold Eva’s hand.

     Without a word, Sparda got up and left, taking the sword with him.

     “Did I say something wrong?” You looked up at your Mother.

     “No, sweetheart. I'm not sure what that's about,” she looked down at you, placing a hand on your head with a small pat, “Why don’t the three of you go play for a while? I’ll come to get you for dinner and cake later, okay?”

     Although you all were uneasy, the three of you went to the twin’s room to play for a while. Eva made her way to Sparda’s office and found him sitting at his desk, staring down at nothing in particular. 

     “Dear?” Eva’s voice was soft as she entered the room, shutting it behind her, “What’s wrong?”

     The large man looked up at his wife, “It is nothing.”

     She moved further into the room and stood beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder, “I wasn’t born yesterday, something’s wrong.”

     “It’s just,” Sparda removed his monocle and pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh, pushing the corners of his eyes, “that they used to run and hide when I’d enter a room and then to tell me that…” 

     Eva gently ran her fingers through his hair and had a sad smile tugging at her lips, “They have come a long way. Is that why you are upset?”

     His voice cracked a bit, “I know that it is rather stupid but it makes me sad…” he let out a wet huff of a laugh, “I never thought I’d have a family let alone,” his shoulders tensed as he leaned forwards, removing his fingers from his face, “let alone have children who see me as a good and kind man.”

     The petite woman watched as Sparda let out a shuddering breath and placed his elbows on his desk as he pressed his palms into his eyes; doing his best to suppress his emotions.

     “After everything I’ve done,” Sparda’s voice was quiet, shameful, “that I did…”

     “Sparda…” Eva’s fingers tightened on his shoulder.

     He looked up at his wife, tears welling up in his eyes, “Have I truly earned such words?”

     The blonde woman held her husband close, doing her best to comfort him, "A thousand times over, my love."

     They sat together for what seemed like a lifetime, intertwined within each other's arms. Neither you nor the twins were told about what happened; rather, everyone acted as if nothing odd happened in the first place. However, Sparda made sure that he tucked you in that night, gave you a hug and kiss, and told you that he loves you. A memory that you'd never forget.

==

     Over the next year or so, you began to flourish more and more. The twins were able to outright treat you the same as they do each other without having to worry about your parents getting as upset. Along with that, the townsfolk that saw you three thought that you were a set of triplets; even though you didn’t look like your older brothers. The three of you did everything together; sparred, played, ate, slept--you were inseparable. 

     “That’s not fair!” You pouted as you lay on the ground, face up, “You promised you wouldn’t do that!”

     Dante and you had been sparring, while Vergil was on the lookout in case your parents showed up.

     The younger twin laughed a bit and offered you a hand, helping you up, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

     Recently, he had developed a new ability, one which he called “Royal Guard” and he just absolutely blasted you with it. 

     “You alright?” Before you could respond, Dante gently moved your head to the side, “Uh-- Hey Verge,” he looked over to his blue brother, “Can you come ‘ere?”

     “What?” Vergil raised a brow and noticed what Dante was looking at, “Really, Dante?”

     The red twin removed his hand from you, only to have Vergil replace his hold on your face. You pouted a bit in confusion, “What? Is something wrong?”

     “Yes,” Vergil glared at his twin as he removed his hand, allowing you to turn back them, “Dante managed to leave a large bruise across your neck.”

     “What if I said I fell..?” You tilted your head to the side and watched Vergil think.

     “That might work, however--”

     A loud crash and an even louder yelp from you caught the twins off guard. You were currently pinned face down underneath something really really heavy and were unable to move. Dante being Dante started to panic and sprinted off to find Mother; only to have Vergil chase after him and try to stop him--leaving you completely alone. Admittedly, things could be worse--you could’ve been blasted by Dante’s new godforsaken ability again; however, you weren’t exactly thrilled at the moment. 

     Every muscle and tendon in your body felt as if it were on fire as you pushed up. A loud shouting cry left your lips as you finally push whatever it was off of you--at least enough that you could worm your way out.

     Your brow furrowed, “What..?” In front of you was the behemoth of a weapon, The Devil Sword Sparda. 

     Carefully, you ran your fingers along the flat part right by the sharp edge of the blade. You hadn’t been allowed to see it (let alone touch it) since it was gifted to you. Mindlessly, you grabbed the handle and tugged a bit. Sure, it was heavy when it was on top of you. But now? It felt like you could lift it. Before you were able to test it out, your Mother and brothers were right next to you.

     “How did you get this?” Eva’s voice was stern but had a very light trace of fear pricking at the edges. 

     “I-” you shook your head and looked at her, “I didn’t-- I mean, I don’t know how--”

     “It just appeared out of nowhere!” Dante chimed in, which Vergil then socked him in the arm; mumbling about how Eva wasn’t talking to him. 

     Her lips parted as if she were going to say something, but she said nothing. After a minute or so of silence, Eva cleared her throat, “We need to put this back in your Father’s office. Can you… lift it?”

     You moved to the end of the blade and picked up. Seeing that you weren’t quite able to fully pick it up, Vergil and Dante helped; which was enough to lift the gigantic blade. The three of you, guided by your Mother, carried it to Sparda’s office and placed it on the floor of the room. 

     The incident was never brought up again.

     A few weeks following, Dante and Vergil had their eighth birthday. It was an absolute blast as far as you were concerned. The three of you went ice skating, had a snowball fight, and then made snowmen; it was the most “human” fun you’d ever had as a family. When it came time for presents, Eva gifted them two semi-matching ruby amulets; the only difference was that Dante’s was silver while Vergil’s was bronze.

     However, Vergil and Dante asked a question that had been on your mind as well, “Where’s Dad?”

     Eva simply brushed it off saying, “He’s away with work right now; he’ll be home any day now.”

     Looking back on it now, you know Eva was fully aware of your father's death and was just sparing the three of you from the painful terrifying news. 

     Things were fine for a while; the three of you continued to learn at home with Eva as your teacher and trained as a trio, waiting for Sparda to return. 

     It was late spring the last time you saw your Mother. 

     Her, Dante, and you were inside baking cookies together; while Vergil was outside playing--since he didn’t care for cooking. 

     “Can one of you go get Vergil? I’d like him to come in and help decorate these,” Eva smiled warmly.

     Before Dante could even process what was said, you sprung up from your chair with a shout, “I’ll get him!!” and then sprinted out the door.

     One moment, you were happily sprinting through the house thinking about what color frosting you wanted to use; and the next, you were engulfed in flames. Your eyes widened with horror as you gazed upon horrific monsters that you’d never seen and, quite frankly, never wanted to see again. 

     The front door was closer to you than running back to the kitchen, so you continued forwards and did your best to avoid both falling bits of building and whatever these creatures were.  

     “I just have to reach Vergil. He can protect me,”  you repeated this thought to yourself as you sprinted as fast as you could. A half-choked sob left your lips as you felt your chest being to tighten from the smoke. In the end, your struggle was all in vain; you never made it down the hallway, let alone to Vergil.

==

     The twin’s swords clashed as they darted around each other; enjoying their long-awaited reunion. Vergil hit Dante square in the gut and made him fly back several feet, leaving the red devil belly up and laughing heartily.

     After a minute or two, Dante sat up with a small content sigh, “So… Not that this isn’t fun but, you got a plan to get us out of this place, Verge?”

     The eldest twin straightened his coat and looked at his brother, “I do.”

     “Well,” the red devil stood and cracked his back, “Why didn’t you say so.”

     “As you said…” Vergil avoided Dante’s eyes, “you were enjoying yourself.” 

     “And here I thought you were all work, no play.”

     Vergil glared at Dante for a moment then stood with his eyes closed, listening.

     “So, now-”

     “Silence-” Vergil’s face scrunched as he focused harder, before gesturing off to his left, “That way.”

     “O-okay..?” Dante followed his brother, “So, what was that about?”

     “Yamato can only create a portal at the highest points of the Underworld-”

     “Where would we be closest to the human realm..?”

     “Exactly.”

     “That doesn’t explain the weird thing you just did.”

     “I had to locate such a spot,” Vergil’s tone was flat, not wanting to have to explain the specifics; especially since Dante knows what he's talking about.

     “Ah, gotcha,” No, Dante didn’t have a goddamn clue as to what the fuck his brother meant.

     The two of them walked for what seemed like forever, only stopping to fight miscellaneous hordes of demons. Although it was unintentional at first, they used this time to talk about many difficult topics; starting from the freshest things and working their way back. Vergil’s mind was still a scrambled mess which caused him to have a rather difficult time recalling things the further back they went, so it took longer and longer with each topic.

     Despite that small hiccup, they reached back to where this all truly began. Admittedly, neither of them wanted to talk about it but it was important--and it’s not like they had much else to do anyway.

     Dante went first and explained what happened; how Eva hid him away and left to find Vergil, her then dying in the process.

     The blue devil raised a brow at Dante’s words which didn’t go unnoticed by the red devil, “What?” 

     “Nothing.”

     “No,” Dante shook his head, “No, we talked about this; we agreed to be upfront with each other,” at this point, the red devil sounded more akin to a parent scolding a child rather than a concerned sibling; because of how much he had to strong-arm his brother into talking.

     The eldest moved his jaw side to side in thought before speaking, “Last you told me, you portrayed a very different tale.”

     “Oh yeah? What did I say?”

     Vergil’s response was beyond quiet and Dante was unable to make out what was said.

     “Verge,” Dante carefully placed a hand on his twin’s shoulder.

     The blue devil flinched from the action before stiffening his entire body, “You heavily insinuated that Mother did not care for me; that she had no intent to…” He clenched his jaw and broke from Dante’s stare.

     Dante’s expression fell, “I know and… I’m sorry,” Vergil glared at Dante from the corner of his eyes, “but, if I’m honest, I was just doing that to piss you off,” he sighed softly, “It made it easier for me to fight you, because-- because if I refused to admit that I cared about you then I didn’t feel as bad about the whole thing... About fighting you…”

     “Tch,” Vergil slicked his hair back, an action that Dante noted Vergil did when uncomfortable, “I doubt you needed extra reinforcement with that; you seemed to be just fine with fighting me.”

     “Hey,” Dante grabbed Vergil’s shoulder, forcing him to turn to him, “You listen here,” he firmly grasped both of Vergil’s shoulders, much to the eldest’s discomfort, “I never wanted things to end like that. I never thought that you’d-- that we’d--” Dante let out an aggravated sigh as he unintentionally tightened his grip, “Don’t you think for a fucking second that I wanted to lose you or hurt you like that Vergil.”

     The blue devil did his best to avoid Dante’s eyes.

     “You are my brother, even if you did some stupid shit,” Vergil’s eyes snapped right back to his brother upon hearing that, “I mean, I did stupid shit too; but, I never thought things would turn out as they did.”

     Vergil sighed softly, “You are a fool.”

     “What’s that supposed to--” Dante let out a surprised ‘oof’.

     Vergil had pulled his brother into a hug, albeit a rather aggressive one but it was still a hug. 

     Neither of them spoke, they just stood there for a moment; holding one another. However nice things can never last as they became engulfed by another swarm of demons. It didn’t take long for the twins to have the large horde taken care of and they were back on the road. 

     After some time, Vergil decided to give his side of what happened. How he was attacked and experienced his first Trigger; how it tore his body apart and he nearly died by doing so. Only to run as far away as possible, thinking that “-both Eva and Dante were dead.”

     Dante’s brow twitched at his twin’s words, or rather, lack thereof, “Hey, uh, Vergil?” Dante’s voice was uncharacteristically quiet.

     “Hm?”

     “Aren’t you missing someone?”

     With a confused shake and furrow of his brow, Vergil stopped walking and turned to Dante, “No, Father was gone by then.”

     Dante’s lips parted slightly as he looked with great concern, “Are you sure?”

     Vergil raised a brow, “What are you on about?”

     “Verge…” Dante swallowed hard and placed a hand on the back of his neck, “We had a little sibling that you completely neglected to mention…”

     Vergil squinted, “What..?”

     “Holy shit,” the red devil’s shoulders, and overall posture, dipped with sadness “You really forgot?”

     “If this is your attempt at a joke, I do not find it funny.”

     “I’m serious Vergil,” Dante shook his head as he continued, “They were like a year younger than us--were super sick when they were born, which you very bluntly pointed out,” the red devil desperately looked for any sign of recognition in his brother’s face, “Father wouldn’t train them because Mom wanted them to be raised like a human-- Anything ringing a bell?” Dante stared at Vergil.

     “I…” Vergil’s jaw moved in thought, “I don’t know…” Before Dante could speak, Vergil put a hand up, “Just give me a little bit.”

     “Sure,” after which Dante just continued to ramble about things that the three of you did as kids or random information about you. 

     “Did we… make them a book..? Vergil scrunched his face in confusion at, what he thought, was a stupid suggestion.

     The younger twin’s head nodded quickly, “Yeah that’s right.”

     Vergil’s brow twitched as he tried to remember more, “I believe I used to… read to them?” 

     Once more, Dante nodded, “You did.”

     “I see…” the older twin’s expression was rather forlorn compared to normal, “You will have to forgive my confusion, everything is still a bit foggy.”

     The twins continued forward for another few minutes before Dante piped up again.

     “So, you didn’t see them during the fire then..?” Dante pursed his lips, “I never was able to figure if they…” Dante gestured at nothing in particular, “Ya know.” 

     The blue devil sighed, “As much as I’d like to think otherwise; if you haven’t heard from them, then they are most likely dead.”

     The younger twin nodded, “I figured-- I mean,” he sighed heavily, “I had hoped that maybe you’d seen or heard about ‘em when you were under… well, ya know-- Prince Dickwad’s control.”

     Vergil let out a small laugh before freezing at his own reaction. After a moment, he recomposed himself with a nod and returned to his monotone self, “No. I don’t believe I did, anyway…”

     The red devil nodded and swallowed his emotions. 

     Admittedly, Dante had hoped that Vergil would’ve known something about what happened to you. Hoped that, maybe, you had reached the older twin before everything happened; but that was wishful thinking. After all, you were treated like a human, it only made sense that you would have died like one as well.

     They continued forwards in silence for what seemed like an eternity. Vergil was mulling over his memories; admittedly, he was rather perturbed that he didn’t recall you until Dante reminded him. In hindsight, perhaps splitting himself using Yamato did more damage to himself than he had originally anticipated. However, that was for him to worry about at some other point; if at all.

     Dante, on the other hand, was doing his best to come to terms with everything. He had been living with the false hope of you still being alive. The only thing that was running through his mind was how he almost lost both siblings. Thankfully, Vergil was still with him; which, admittedly, only added to the fear of losing his brother again.

     A small discontented huff from Vergil caught Dante’s attention. Before he could ask his brother what was up, Dante saw what Vergil was staring at. In front of them was a large desolate building that absolutely reeked of gore--worse than they’d encountered thus far.

     “So, let me guess,” Dante half-ass pointed at the sight before them, “That’s where we need to go, huh?” 

     “It would appear that way,” Vergil took a deep breath. The blue devil wasn’t exactly thrilled about having to set foot in a structure like this; one so similar to the ones from all those years ago.

     Dante noticed his brother’s apprehension, “You gonna be alright?” 

     “I’ll be fine!” Vergil’s answer was much snappier than intended. Before moving forwards, Vergil mumbled to himself, “It is only a building, it isn’t that big of a deal.”

     Before Dante could try and comfort his brother, Vergil was nearly at the entrance. The two cautiously pushed the heavy doors open. The outpost had seen better days, that much was apparent; with every step forward Dante felt as if the pair were going to go straight through the floor--or worse, the building would collapse atop them. Despite the abhorrent smell of death and fresh kills, there wasn’t a body to be found--not even a single drop of blood. 

     While they made their way up the stairs, Vergil began to take note of how eerily quiet it was. Hell is far from a quiet place, constantly having the sounds of demons screeching and other miscellaneous sounds; here, however, you could hear a pin drop from five rooms away. It made him feel uneasy, only adding to how on edge he was. 

     Dante had also noticed and began to mindlessly whistle to himself. The unexpected noise made Vergil flinch heavily. The red devil stopped for a moment, waiting for Vergil to say something. After a few moments with no response, Dante continued to fill the silence with any sort of noise he could, unknowingly providing a little comfort to the eldest twin. As the pair ventured onwards and upwards, they both began to look around in a paranoid manner; awaiting the inevitable ambush.

     Dante decided to make small talk, “So… can I ask somethin’?” He looked over to his brother who was standing in front of a large decrepit, nearly shattered, mirror.

     “Hm?” Vergil’s eyes didn’t leave his reflection.

     “Is this, like, one of Mundus’s outposts?”

     Vergil shook his head and tilted his head to the side toward Dante, however, the eldest’s eyes never left the glass. He ghosted his fingers along the surface, “No--not his territory.”

     “Then who--”

     “Argosax… and this isn’t an outpost,” Vergil huffed and turned his full attention to his sibling, “This is, or was, one of their main strongholds; this one, in particular, is only a step below the main fortress”

     “You don’t say…”

     Vergil raised a brow at Dante’s odd reaction, “Don’t tell me you have forgotten about Argosax? After all, you are the one that killed them.”

     “Eh,” the red devil shrugged, “Can’t say I remember ‘em much--they were pretty boring. Plus Argo didn’t put up much of a fight.”

     The blue devil scoffed and continued forwards, Dante following a few paces behind, “Perhaps we are the only two people that would consider fighting a ruler of Hell an easy feat--no?”

     “You got that right,” Dante playfully shoved Vergil’s shoulder and had a sheathed Yamato placed right against his throat for it, “Whoa--” he put his hands up with his palms facing Vergil, “easy there tiger.”

     The eldest twin coldly eyed his brother for a moment before he took a slow deep breath and removed the sword, turning back around and continuing forwards.

     “Sorry, I uh,” Dante jogged lightly and stood beside his twin, “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

     Vergil didn’t answer but just kept walking. 

     Dante pursed his lips and stuck his hands in his jeans pockets. He wanted to say something, to continue talking, but it seemed like Vergil was done conversating for the time being. 

     Another set of stairs later, the twins came upon a large long hallway. Random bits of broken furniture and glass decorated the filthy marbled floors. The partially dilapidated ceiling was elegantly decorated with arch supports that had lavish latticework; which had large roots weaved within, destroying some of it. The walls had old craters that ranged from being small--almost fist-sized--dents to entire walls missing. Along the way, the walls were also filled with easily over a dozen doors; some were open, some were barricaded shut, and others were far from the hinges that they belonged to. 

     “This place seems much more refined than everywhere else,” Dante tilted his head to the side.

     Vergil nodded mockingly, “Yes, very good; I’m glad that you can still see.”

     “Hey,” Dante punched Vergil’s shoulder, “I just meant; like--Why is it nicer?”

     The blue devil hummed in thought for a moment, crouching to get a better look at one of the large shards of glass, “I’m not sure; but, if I had to guess,” Vergil carefully picked up the piece, moving it around and watching the reflection, “These were the living quarters for whatever devil’s served Argosax.”

     Dante made a surprised huff, “Really? I didn’t think that devils were into that whole thing,” he approached one of the normal-looking doors, “Figure they would be too focused on destruction and killing things,” he opened the door, but didn’t enter; opting to just stand in the doorframe.

     The eldest twin raised a brow, placed the shard down, and walked over to his sibling, standing behind him, “What’s wrong?”

     “I-” Dante stood with his mouth agape, a clear look of confusion across his brow, as he turned to Vergil, “You saw that, right?”

     “What are you talking about, Dante?”

     Dante looked back at the room, pausing a moment before speaking, “Nothing; guess I’m just tired.”

     The youngest twin took a step into the room before being stopped by Vergil grabbing his shoulder, keeping him from moving further.

     “Verge..?” Dante turned to his brother, who seemed paler than normal.

     “Let’s keep moving,” Vergil’s voice had an odd shake to it and his fingers were tight enough that they were digging into Dante’s shoulder.

     “S-sure..?” Dante turned and began to walk down the hall to the upward-climbing staircase, before finally asking, “What was that about?”

     Vergil looked over to Dante but said nothing.

     “Verge..?” 

     “Don’t worry about it,” Vergil looked back in front of them.

     “Was that supposed to be comforting?”

     “I didn’t think that I had to be.”

     “What a wonderful older brother I have.”

     Vergil glared at Dante before shaking his head with an eye roll.

     The pair continued forwards, the feeling of unease only intensifying with each deserted story. Vergil stopped within the confines of one of the stairwells, “Dante,” 

     “Hm?”

     Vergil looked around before looking at Dante, “Do you feel like we are missing something?”

     “What?”

     Vergil’s brow furrowed as he pursed his lips before turning his gaze back in front of them with a small shake, “Never mind.”

     The two continued to the next floor. Once at the top of the stairs, Dante stopped and looked around, “Well, now that you mention it,” Vergil looked over to him, “I do feel kind of odd; like we shouldn’t be here.”

     “Well… that’s a given; however,” the blue devil walked further, peaking inside different rooms, “that is not quite what I meant,” finally, Vergil seemed to find a room that fit whatever he was looking for, “Let’s rest here for a moment.”

     “I uh-- okay..?” Dante walked into the room. Vergil followed suit, shutting and barricading the door with a nearby cot; piquing the red devil’s curiosity, “So what’s with the sudden break time, Verge?”

     The blue twin looked around the room, “This one is safe.”

     “Huh?”

     Vergil sat on the edge of one of the dirty and tattered cots, “Sit.”

     The younger twin hesitated a moment before sitting beside his brother, putting one leg up on the bed to sit facing his sibling. 

     “Do you recall how I first confronted you when under Mundus?” Vergil’s voice was soft as his eyes mindlessly stared at nothing in particular on the floor. His forearms were resting on his legs as he rapidly tapped his thumbs together--tapping one foot in the same fashion.

     The red devil’s face contorted as he thought for a moment. Admittedly, Dante has a hard time recalling events from that time in his life. In the gap between Vergil’s fall and meeting Nero for the first time, Dante was beyond a depressed alcoholic mess leaving those memories a completely jumbled mess. 

     “Dante,” Vergil turned his head slightly, staring at his sibling from the corner of his eye, “Do you not remember?” Although his voice was still monotone as normal, there was a distant sadness to Vergil’s words.

     “I do, kinda,” Dante’s shoulders fell as he placed a hand on the back of his neck, “everything from back then is kinda hazy--just give me a second.”

     “I can just--”

     “No-!” Dante’s voice was unintentionally stern. Quickly he added in a softer voice, “I want to-- I can remember, just give me a second.”

     Vergil turned to fully stare at Dante; watching his brother’s contorted expressions as he was deep in thought. After a minute or so Dante’s face relaxed as he met Vergil’s eyes, “You used a mirror, right? Walked right out of it..?”

     “That is correct--”

     “Yeah, you were the first bastard that actually had some guts to give me a real fight…” Dante laughed, trying to lighten the mood a bit.

     A small smirk ghosted Vergil’s face as he returned to stare at the same spot on the floor, “Surely you noticed the abnormally high amount of glass here, right?”

     Dante shrugged, “I did notice but… uh- I got no idea what these places are supposed to look like; didn’t know it was weird.”

     Vergil frowned slightly, “No devil is that obsessed with themselves that they’d have that much glass--it must have been placed on purpose.”

     The younger twin’s brow lifted with confused curiosity, “So, you--or, well, Nelo--traveling using glass wasn’t some exclusive thing?”

     Vergil shook his head ‘no’, “It is a skill that can be taught; however,” Vergil’s shoulders tensed as he turned to look up at the door, “it is extremely difficult to learn and even harder to master.”

     “Vergil,” Dante sighed, “I don’t want to sound rude; but, what’s your point?”

     The eldest twin sat upright and looked over at Dante, with a harsh squint and clear scowl, “I am saying someone or something is here with us; watching us.”

     “Okay. Counterpoint,” Dante folded his arms with a raise of his brow, “What if those are all from someone who used to be here but left when Argosax died? Or are already dead?”

     “You aren’t that stupid, Dante,” Vergil stood up, his grip tightening on Yamato, “I know you can feel it, too.”

     “So what if they can do some fancy glass shit?” Dante stood up and cocked his head to the side, “We’ll just defeat them like everyone else.”

     “In our current state,” Vergil sighed, “I’m not so sure…”

     “Our current state?” Dante folded his arms, leaning back a bit, “What’s that supposed to mean..?”

     The blue devil’s eyes slowly turned to stare at Dante, “Tell me, Dante; how long do you think you or I can hold our Devil Triggers? Or better yet, our Sin Triggers?”

     Dante huffed, knowing that Vergil was right but not wanting to admit it.

     Vergil continued, “Whatever or whoever this is, they aren’t to be taken lightly. Neither of us can take on something much more than Behemoths or Lusachias right now; so, it would be very unlikely that we could survive a fight with a real devil.”

     After a minute, Dante let out a soft sigh, “Man,” Dante scratched his chin, “It’s that bad, huh?”

     Vergil squinted, asking Dante to explain.

     “I mean,” the younger twin moved his jaw in thought for a moment, “If you of all people aren’t confident about winning; then we really are fucked.”

     “I-- I do not know if you are trying to insult me or not.”

     The red devil laughed, placing a hand on his twin’s shoulder, “Let’s go find out who’s been spying on us; what do you say?”

     Vergil shook his head with a quiet sigh and a small smile, “They are most likely at the top of the stronghold; where we are going.”

     “The news just gets better and better,” Dante moved the cot from the door, “What’s next; you gonna tell me that they are immune to our swords or something?”

     “Don’t jinx us, Dante.”

     The younger twin laughed as they left the room, continuing onward and upwards. It only took two more staircases for them to reach the top.

     Both twins pushed hard against the large double doors at the top of the steps, opening them just enough for the pair to slip by. They found themselves in a large waiting room of sorts. Directly across from them was another huge set of double doors. 

     The room was in an odd mixture of both good and poor condition; the room itself was relatively undamaged--no holes or what not, however, it was inundated with corpses and blood--which is what caused the rotten stench.

     Marble flooring covered the space, which was so covered in filth and gore that it was impossible to tell what color it was intended to be. The walls were plain and relatively similar to the rest of the building; except for the one that housed the unopened doors. That particular wall was covered in rocks and miscellaneous gems. Which seemed rather out of place, as if someone had stuck them there after the wall was built. 

     Vergil’s eyes flicked up to the ceiling. Its base was covered in cracked grimy tinted glass which was broken up by several dome vaults. In each dome, there were different murals. As he looked harder, he realized that: A.) it was also not original and poorly done, and B.) the “paint” was demons' blood. The different murals were crude interpretations of different events, but he couldn’t quite make them out.

     As Vergil tried to get a better view of the artwork, Dante was looking at the extravagant furniture and decor that littered the room. In the middle of the right side, there was a large stone table with several wooden chairs--a few of which were broken; both the table and chairs all seemed to be hand-carved, covered with various creatures and symbols. On the far left of the room was a large wood desk; that, once more, seemed to be hand-carved--it looked similar to Dante’s. This was enough to pique the red devil’s curiosity. 

     Dante sauntered over to the desk. Once he got closer, he noticed that there was an odd stack of thin paper-like items on it. Carefully, he moved the items around and tried to make out any of the scribbles.

     “Hey Verge,” Dante turned over his shoulder, “Come take a look at this.”

     Vergil slowly looked down from the ceiling and strutted over to his sibling.

     “Does any of this mean anythin’--or are these just someone's failed art project?”

     The blue devil pushed Dante out of the way and spread out the items of interest across the entirety of the table. He leaned forwards with his hands on the edge of the desk and began to pick through the papers.

    After a few minutes, Vergil answered,  “These are all made on dried demon hide,” Dante gave Vergil a look of surprise, “They are all very well done, some of the best work I have seen...”

     “I didn’t know you could make paper from demons.”

     “It’s more akin to leather rather than paper.”

     “Still is weird.”

     Vergil hummed in acknowledgment and moved some of the pages together before sighing, “There is a small paragraph here,” he ran his index finger along the area with writing, “However, the diction is very broken and the language isn’t consistent; using both Greek and Latin.”

     “Is it anything important?”

     Vergil hesitated, “I’m unsure.”

     “Can you try and read it?”

     The eldest sibling nodded then cleared his throat, stopping every few words to translate more, “ ‘ "Father, father,/where are you going?/Oh do not walk so fast!/Speak, father, speak to your little child,/Or else I shall be lost.". The night was dark, no father was there,/The child was wet with dew;/The mire was deep, and the child did weep,/And away the vapour flew.' .”

     The red devil raised a brow, “Isn't that--?"

     "William Blake's work? Yes."

     "You didn’t by chance write these, did you?”

     “No,” Vergil shook his head and stood up straight, “I never wrote this one down; not to mention I was never allowed to accompany Mundus to any “meetings” with Argosax--none of my belongings would be here.”

     “Hm, wonder why?”

     “Why what?”

     “Well,” Dante placed a hand on his hip, “If you were Mundus’s prized knight, then why didn’t he take you with him? I mean, I would’ve if I were him.”

     “I-” Vergil’s face contorted with sudden confusion and realization, “I don’t know.”

     Dante shook his head, “Anyway, so why is there random poetry here? Argosax just decided to learn about human literature?”

     “I don’t know that either; this is the first time I have seen human works that weren’t written down by myself,” Vergil’s eyes peered over the table, “It is rather off-putting that it is Blake’s work as well; there are hundreds of thousands of poets to choose from…”

     “Yeah… I mean- I don’t want to sound mean but are you sure Urizen or V didn’t visit here?”

     “Urizen and V did not visit here; I assure you,” the blue devil looked over to the unopened doors, “I think our break time is over.”

     The younger twin looked over at the doors, joining Vergil’s stare, “You feel it too, huh?”

     “Mn,” Vergil gave a curt nod, “Whatever is behind that door; is what’s been spying on us.”

     “Welp,” Dante traipsed over to the doors, “Little help?”

     Vergil shook his head, “I am going to get a peak at what is on the other side first; then we will decide our course of action.”

     “What?!” Dante’s face scrunched as his mouth was agape in confusion, “Vergil, you are the one who keeps preaching about how powerful this thing is. You going over there by yourself is-- is--” he pinched the bridge of his nose, “stupid!”

     “Us just breaking down the door without understanding what we are up against or what we are releasing is impetuous,” the eldest folded his arms, “I will be fine, it is just a peek.”

     “But what if--”

     “If I am not back within a minute,” Vergil went to place a hand on Dante’s shoulder but stopped, opting to lightly punch him instead, “Then break down the door.”

     “Verge this is a little too heavy for--”

     “You are a son of Sparda; a devil imbued with the fire of hell itself,” Vergil gave Dante a smug smirk, “A wooden door shouldn’t be much of a challenge.”

     The red devil sighed, “Alright- Alright… Just, hurry back.”

     Vergil gave him a small nod before disappearing into a cloud of smoke.

     Once on the other side, Vergil was met with a muddy bronze-colored devil--just sitting in the middle of the room. The devil’s eyes were closed and its hands were placed on its thighs; as if it were meditating. The moment Vergil tried to move, however, the devil’s eyes snapped open. They were of a bright magenta hue and had streaks of the same color running down their face which joined up with a line that went across their throat--mimicking a slit throat.

     It stood up, locking eyes with Vergil. Their body was riddled with battle scars and had a mixture of browns, blacks, and purples throughout. Its entire form was much more akin to Vergil's or Dante’s Sin Trigger’s, making Vergil scrunch his face in bafflement. 

     The more he looked, the more strange this new devil became. Notably, the devil had cloven hooves; a feature that Vergil had only ever seen on one other devil. His eyes widened, taken aback at the sudden realization of what he was looking at; however, before Vergil could return to his twin, the eldest was teleported to an unfamiliar location. It was akin to that of Malphas’s void that V had been placed in; however, there were no gates, no menacing feeling, just a room filled with junk..?

I couldn't decide what I wanted the reader's SDT to look like, so here is a compilation of all the different sketches/two fully rendered works.

     Dante paced uneasily behind the door, tapping his fingers against the grips of Ebony & Ivory, grinding his teeth together, “He will be fine; I just--!”

     He froze and his eyes widened, he could no longer feel Vergil’s presence, “Son of a Bitch!” Dante holstered his side arms and Triggered then crashed through the doors--making them fly off their hinges. 

     The bronze devil caught one of the airborne objects and threw it back at Dante; who sliced it clean in two. He de-Triggered and looked around the room for any sign of his twin. Panic began to set in as he tried to figure out what happened; Vergil wouldn’t have left Dante here, right?

     Before Dante could delve into those thoughts, the feeling of his feet leaving the ground brought him back to reality. The bronze devil had hit the red devil far off into the doors that lead into the waiting room he had just been in.

     With a groan, he sat up and got to his feet, “Damn it, Verge,” his eyes met with the devil’s, “Where’d you go?”

     Crouching down slightly, Dante readied his Devil Sword and dashed at his attacker. The devil curled both sets of its leathery wings around itself, using them to take the brunt of Dante’s Devil Sword’s power; before expanding them back out, sending Dante flying back once more. 

     “Tch,” he quickly caught himself and sprinted at the devil once more, cracking the ground in his wake. 

     It grabbed Dante’s blade, which sliced into its palm. It looked at the wound in confusion, as if it didn’t understand what happened. Using their free hand, the devil tried to grab Dante but he managed to teleport out of reach. The bronze devil stared down at their injured hand, seemingly enamored by the pooling blood. 

     Not wanting to let up, Dante attacked again--using Trickster to get closer and take the devil by surprise. This, however, didn’t go as planned. His opponent flicked their head toward the direction Dante had teleported and, using one of its forward-facing horns, skewered him through the thigh.

     “Shit,” Dante pushed away on the devil’s head, attempting to break free; however, an odd blue glint caught his eye and he stopped.

     Before the younger twin could get a better look at the odd object, the devil yanked Dante off its horn. In a flash, they slammed him into the floor, creating a large crater with Dante’s body. They attempted to gut Dante using its claws; however, they were stopped by Dante’s Devil Sword being laid across his body. Using his free hand, Dante grabbed Ebony and shot his attacker between the eyes--at point-blank range.

     He waited for the devil’s body to go limp but it didn’t; no, it just sat there, looking down at him. The bullet was lodged deep in its head and was bleeding but they were still alive. Getting frustrated with this fight, Dante triggered. 

     The bronze devil hissed quietly and jumped up in reaction to the sudden molten hot temperatures of the red devil, which allowed Dante to do the same. The bronze devil grabbed the bullet from its forehead, looked at it with an odd curiosity, and then flicked it at Dante; with the same velocity that it would have if it had been shot from a gun. 

     Of course, it missed the younger twin. Shaking off his confusion, he re-engaged with the devil. Dante’s wings flew out behind him as he lunged at the devil. It put up its forearms and caught the sword with them. Although it wasn’t as deep as it would’ve been against any other devil or demon; the sword sliced into the meat of the arm. 

     A strange huff of a growl came from the devil, as it locked eyes with Dante. Despite the fact the devil had no lips, the younger twin couldn’t help but feel as if it were smiling at him--mocking him. In frustration, Dante pushed harder into the devil’s arms and that’s when he felt it.

     “What..?” Dante sprung back and looked at his forearms; large deep cuts that mirrored the ones on his opponents decorated his arms and were bleeding heavily, “That’s a new one.”

     The bronze devil cocked its head slightly and flared its wings outwards; now it was definitely mocking the younger twin. 

     With a small growl, “Fine,” Dante stuck his sword into the ground and pulled out Ebony & Ivory, “Let’s try this on for size.”

     The red devil kicked up into the air, hovering several feet above the bronze devil, and rattled off several rounds. If it had been any other devil or demon, Dante knows that all of his shots would’ve landed; however, only a handful of the bullets managed to knick the devil’s hide. Despite the devil’s sheer size, it was much more attentive and more of a contortionist than he’d anticipated. 

     Dante shot off Ivory several times in hopes to distract the devil from the slowly charging Ebony in his left hand, “Here’s a lil’ somethin’ for ya’,” Dante yanked up Ebony and fired--not allowing his opponent any time to react… or so he thought.

     The moment he pulled the trigger, his target disappeared. A chill ran up Dante’s spine and, before he could process what was going on, the devil was behind Dante and grabbed him by the wings, holding them by the base. The devil spun around in the air and threw Dante into an upper part of a wall. The younger twin let out a strangled gasp as he felt the air leave his body and de-triggered. He fell from the high-up spot face down onto the floor. Slowly he stood back up, stumbling a bit and taking deep uneven breaths. He tossed his coat off to the side--not that it mattered much since it was pretty tattered at this point--and revealed that his entire back was raw. Large slices ran along his spine where his wings were attached and were bleeding profusely. 

     Not knowing what else to do and steadily becoming more and more exhausted, Dante summoned his sword back to his side and used his Sin Trigger--healing his wounds. The bronze devil took a step back and tilted its head in confusion before Dante was back upon them with blinding speed. He stabbed the sword through the devil’s middle; not caring that it made his own insides burn. They let out a sputtering gasp and grabbed at Dante’s neck and face; wedging their claws in between his scales, pulling them off. The two struggled for a while before the son of Sparda was finally tossed off to the side. 

     The bronze devil looked around for a moment quickly concluding that it was outmatched. They stuck out its hand to the side and waited. Although Dante is only a few short steps away from feral when in this form, he froze upon seeing what was within the bronze devil’s grasp.

     Their fingers tightened around the sword’s dingy crimson grip as they placed the back edge on their shoulder. However, the sword wasn’t the only thing that Dante was in shock over; no, there was something else. Hanging onto the grip was Vergil, who teleported to his twin immediately upon returning. 

     Dante was in such shock that he could no longer hold his Sin Trigger. The bronze devil lunged at the pair, missing only by a hair because Vergil grabbed his twin and teleported to the story below. 

     “Are you alright?” Vergil looked over his visibly exhausted twin.

     With heavy breaths and a half-hearted laugh, Dante smiled, “That’s supposed to be my line.”

     “They seem to have given you quite the hassle.”

     “Eh, I’m just tired.”

     “Tch,” Vergil shook his head, “We don’t have much time-”

     “Verge,” Dante’s voice cracked, “Why does that thing have The Sparda?”

     “Not just that,” Vergil reached into the edge of his coat and pulled out a large book that had an old faded happy family pasted right on the front cover, “They also had this.”

     “What-” 

     “I don’t know exactly what’s happened; however,” Vergil looked up and saw cracks beginning to form, “We need to figure it out and fast.”

     Dante copied his brother’s stare before returning to him, “So what-- They were “Nelo Angelo-d”?”

     “Do not call it that,” Vergil snarled at his sibling lightly, “If it were that easy then I would’ve taken care of them myself.”

     “Then what happened to--!”

     The ceiling caved in and both brothers jumped back. Vergil quickly tucked the book into his coat and readied Yamato.

     “Wait, Verge,” Dante grabbed his brother’s shoulder, “Careful what you do,” his eyes locked with the magenta hue of the bronze devil’s, “I got stabbed by myself when attacking.”

     Vergil side-eyed Dante, “How odd, that--!”

     The bronze devil lunged at the twins, who split apart in two different directions. Dante pulled out Ivory once more. The bronze devil snapped their attention to the red assailant and swung The Sparda. Dante rolled out of the way and knelt at the end of it, firing a few shots. However, the bronze devil wasn’t done; it followed through and pivoted around on its hooves. This opened The Sparda into its scythe formation, which was perfectly in line with Dante’s body. 

     “Shit,” Dante leaned back and hit the floor with his shoulder blades, still having his knees in a kneel. His turquoise eyes watched as the blade just barely missed his body.

     Dante spun up around and onto his feet. Wondering what the plan was, he looked around for Vergil, only to find that he had disappeared again. Another aggressive lunge came from the burly opponent which Dante swiftly sprung upwards, landing on the (now-closed) Sparda’s spine. 

     A smirk tugged at Dante’s lips as he squatted down, placing his forearms on his knees, “Man you’ve gotten big, huh?” The devil pulled The Sparda back up, forcing the red devil to dismount, “You know, it took me forever to learn how to properly use that thing; surprised you already figured out how to open it--!”

     He instantly reacted to the devil’s teleportation by doing so himself and stood with a hand neatly placed on his hip.

     “I don’t want to fight you,” Dante’s brow twitched, using his free hand, he summoned his Devil Sword, “You don’t have to do this.”

     A small, but noticeable, hesitation came from the bronze devil before it re-engaged with Dante. The two exchanged blows. Dante noted that it was almost eerily similar to how the two of them used to spar as kids. Suddenly, he got an idea. 

     He made sure that he was correct about the pattern that the bronze devil was using before dodging at a very particular point, the same one he used to take advantage of when you were kids. 

     “How’s this?” Dante unleashed Royal Guard, sending the devil flying back onto its ass. 

     It laid there for a moment as it stared at the ceiling. 

     The younger twin’s brow scrunched as he tried to remember what he’d say to you after accidentally hitting you with his ability, “Sorry… You alright?” Dante pursed his lips waiting for a response.

     The bronze devil slowly leaned up, tilting its head at Dante. After a brief moment, they stood up with a shake of their head and readied The Sparda again. 

     Dante squinted as he readied his sword, thinking to himself, “Where the hell did Vergil go? He’d better have left for a good reason, I’m getting sick of this.”

     The two of them exchanged blows again. It seemed to go on forever until Dante, in his exhaustion, slipped up and got slammed by the back edge of The Sparda; flying off into a nearby wall. 

     “Damn,” he groaned as he sat up, “I’m getting too old for this.”

     They walked over to Dante, staring down at him with their wings flared out; debating what to do next.

     Blood splashed onto Dante’s face as he watched Yamato peirce right through the devil’s hide. Vergil yanked Yamato downwards before removing the blade, causing the bronze devil to hunch over and hold its middle. 

     “I see,” Vergil wiped the blade against the wrist of his coat, cleaning it. Carefully, he placed it back in its scabbard, “You can only reflect attacks that you see coming, how enlightening.”

     The bronze devil turned its head to the side before teleporting. Vergil pivoted around and blocked the devil’s attack. The eldest twin jogged over to his younger brother, tossing him the book. In return, Dante tossed Vergil Ebony before the blue devil turned back to the problem at hand.  

     Vergil reapproached and snapped his fingers, summoning his doppelgänger. The pair separated, Doppel shot upwards while Vergil did his best to keep the bronze devil’s attention. A grimace found its way to Vergil’s face as he used Yamato to block a heavy-handed swing from The Sparda. Sparks flew from the blades as they slid across one another.

     Doppel attempted to repeat the same attack that Vergil had done before; however, the bronze devil dodged it and grabbed Doppel… or would’ve grabbed them if Doppel wasn’t an apparition. Vergil used the distraction to skewer the devil once again, this time pushing even harder into them with Yamato. The blade was deep enough that the tsuba was against the devil’s spine. Vergil’s feet were placed on the legs of the devil and he was leaning his whole body weight into the attack. 

     The bleeding devil flailed about, shaking its body vigorously and trying to claw at its back to grab their attacker. Unable to shake the annoying blue devil, they fell backwards, attempting to crush Vergil. Although it was unexpected, Vergil had enough time to use his Sin Trigger. This, in turn, protected his body; however, the floor was a different issue. The pair went straight through the structure and were now a few stories lower. 

     Vergil shoved the bronze devil off him, removing Yamato. The two stood staring at one another, waiting for the right moment to-

     “Hey! Assholes!” Dante jumped down, fumbling his landing slightly, “You trying to kill me?”

     Vergil’s eyes didn’t leave his opposer, however, the same cannot be said for them. Currently, its eyes were fixated on the book in Dante’s hand which the red devil noticed. 

     He held the book up in one hand, “Lookin’ at this?”

     It tilted its head.

     “Verge found it in the little pocket dimension you stuck him in- That’s what it was, right?”

     The bronze devil looked away from Dante, staring at a random point in the room. Although he couldn’t be sure, from the odd reaction, Dante felt as if the bronze devil was confused--perhaps even trying to place the book or the twins.

     “Let’s see,” Dante licked his finger and began to thumb through the pages, selecting one at random. With a loud cough, he began to read, “ ‘Today, we all went to the beach. It was fun-’,” The devil snapped back to attention and lunged at Dante, only to be stopped by Vergil. 

     Seeing this violent reaction, the red devil stopped only to have Vergil yell back at him, “Keep reading.”

     The younger twin nodded, “ ‘-and I learned how to make a sand castle. Vergil kept making them with me and Dante kept destroying them; so mean.’,” Dante snickered to himself. 

     Vergil’s hold broke, allowing the bronze devil to continue its course. Dante managed to teleport out of the way and onto the opposite side of the room, using Vergil as a mid-way blockade. 

     “ ‘I asked if mom wanted to swim and she said ‘no’. Then I asked Dad, he told me he couldn’t swim. So my brothers and I offered to teach him. Mom laughed.’.”

     A low guttural growl emanated from deep within the devil’s throat.

     “Keep going, Dante,” Vergil and the bronze devil traded blows again, all the while, Dante kept reading. 

     He flipped to a new page, “ ‘Vergil and Dante came to get me from school today. They got to meet all my friends. Tristen said that they were weird and I punched him in the nose. There was a lot of blood and Dante told me to ‘beat his ass’. We all got yelled at when we got home. Worth it.’.”

     The devil swung The Sparda and nearly sliced Vergil’s tail in half. 

     “Let’s see, uh…” Dante flipped further into the book but stumbled upon something unexpected; entries made after the fire, “Vergil, give me a minute.”

     Although the eldest wanted to banter with his sibling, he was much too focused on the fight. 

     Dante’s eyes widened as he scanned the later pages. Things continued as normal, however, there was a turning point about ⅔ of the way through. There were no more drawings, no more newspaper clippings, no more stickers. The once-happy thoughts and quippy comments were replaced with ramblings about how much they wanted to go home; how much you wanted this to end. Dante’s eyes rapidly flicked across each section, a mixture of both despair and anger becoming more and more apparent with each entry. 

==

     You had been wandering for what seemed like days on end. In the beginning, you’d tried to summon The Sparda or call out to your Father, in hopes that he’d save you. Days on end were spent screaming and crying out for someone to find you--to wake you from this unending nightmare. But no one ever came, no one could even hear the whimpering lament of this lost child.

     Your body was growing weary and your limbs felt like lead as you began to meander slower and slower. At one point, you found a small out-cove and stopped in hopes of getting some rest but found yourself quickly attacked by those creatures again. So, you’d run until you lost sight of them. The incessant sounds of snarling nightmarish demons filled your ears, only to be broken up by the calling out of your long empty stomach.

     Everything hurt: your eyes, your lungs, your head, your legs; every single inch of your body was exhausted. The lack of water only drained your muscles further, adding painful cramping to each inch of your legs; but you had to keep going. However, despite this sentiment, you couldn’t pick your feet up anymore and collapsed on the ground.

     A burning sensation brought you back to. You tried to flip yourself over but found that you were unable; something had a hold of you. Panic quickly spread through your body as you struggled against whatever had you. With each movement, the pain became worse and worse; all you wanted to was scream but nothing came out. 

     What happened next was a blur. You remember feeling both as light as a feather and as heavy as a boulder. Whatever had a hold of you no longer did, rather, you had a hold of it. When you became fully aware again, you had a rock in your hand that was coated in blood. Pinned beneath you was a dead (Riot) demon. Its head and neck were barely distinguishable from the ground underneath it, smashed into a thick red pulp with bits of scales and other organs inside. 

     Terrified and revolted, you threw the rock at the mangled corpse in fright and stumbled upright, taking a few steps back; only to fall on your behind from a growing agonizing pain in your middle. Slowly, you looked down at your body to see what type of damage had been done. Your fingers shook as you lifted your tattered shirt.

     Deep dark bruising had covered your entire body, however, it seems that your ribs and abdomen had taken the brunt of the damage. Each breath felt like someone was carving up your innards, making your chest tighten. If you’d had any food or anything within your stomach, you would have thrown up from how painful everything was; however, you were running on empty. 

     With a shaky and unsteady hand, you slowly touched your middle and winced. All you could think about was wanting to go home; curling up in bed with your siblings or with your parents. You began to cry once more and curled up into a fetal position on the ground.

     After some time, you calmed back down and found yourself blankly staring at the nearby corpse. Slowly, you inched towards it; not standing but rather scooching over to it. Cautiously, you poked it and waited for it to spring back to life or something to happen; however, it just laid there. You grabbed its hand and looked at the claws on it. 

     If you couldn’t summon The Sparda, you needed a weapon. Despite your fear and the putrid feeling inching its way up your throat, you twisted the creature's fingers. Loud cracking and popping filled the air until you had several of the claws separated from the body. 

     You then had a horrible thought, “Is this edible?”

     A grimace of disgust found its way to your face as you looked at the dead demon. You were starving, sure; but were you really going to eat that? Loud growling from your stomach answered your question for you. Closing your eyes, you used one of the claws to slice open the creature’s bicep and obtained several strips of flesh. 

     You opened your eyes cautiously. Your arms and hands were stained a sticky dark red-black and you had obtained what you needed. Another loud impatient growl came from your gut. A part of you wanted to just eat the raw meat but you were much too repulsed to do so. With your prize in hand and your repurposed claw-daggers, you slowly stood up and wandered off; trying to find one of the many open flames of this strange place. 

     Upon finding a small flame, you used one of the claws to hold the cutlets to cook. The environment smelt of brimstone and rot, however, the smell of the meat was quite pleasant. Perhaps it was because of how starved you were but you swear that it smelt of something between a steak and fresh chicken that had been seasoned with copious amounts of various peppers. Your mouth began to water, it smelt so good.

     With a deep breath, you closed your eyes and placed a piece in your mouth--gagging instinctively. After several attempts, you managed to eat a full piece. It was tough and rubbery but it at least tasted as good as it smelt. After finishing your few pieces, you rested a while; letting the food settle. Once again, you found yourself crying and wanting your family; your Father in particular kept coming to mind.

     “Why did he leave us?” A hiccup left your trembling lips as you held your painful middle, curling back up into a fetal position on the ground, “Why wasn’t he there to protect us?”

     You cried for some time before taking a blackout nap. When you woke up, thankfully, nothing was trying to eat you and your middle seemed to have healed to some degree. With a deep breath, you stood and continued your aimless meandering. 

     Nothing interesting happened for some time. You had become quite the vagabond. You’d quickly learned how to survive in the harsh environment; living off of demon flesh and hell ice (for water). Although you never forgot about your family or the human world, you’d become rather comfortable here; a distant part of yourself wondered if this was where Sparda grew up. 

     As time went on, you began the early stages of--what could only be described as--a metamorphosis. From your elbows down, you had several rows of thick bronze scales, the same with the skin from your knees down. At first, you were scared and tore them from your skin. This quickly became much too painful for you to bare and you stopped trying to get rid of the re-growing scales. 

     Around ten you had developed scales throughout most of your body. Your hands and feet were completely covered in them now and had sharp claws instead of nails. You’d given up on clothing--or, rather, had none. After which, your body quickly developed scales on your chest, lower back, and entire hips; protecting you. 

     Your teeth had become much sharper and seemed much too large for your prepubescent mouth and would regularly cut your, still human, lips with them. The upside was you no longer had to cut the meat from corpses or had to cook it; you could consume it straight off the bone.

      Finally, after almost three years of wandering, you’d found something. A large building that was crawling with demons. Despite your uneasy feeling, you had an intuitive feeling that this could be your way home, at least, maybe provide an idea of how to do so. 

     For a few weeks, you watched, waited, and schemed. Every few days, the demons would leave in mass and then return no sooner than a day later. So, you used that time to break in. Of course, there were still guards but that wasn’t an issue. You quickly killed every demon that crossed your path; from Empusas to Sargassos to Plasmas; nothing was too difficult for you to kill. 

     You’d made it to the deepest parts of the building, it was a throne room of sorts. There was a large seat in the middle of the far wall that was covered in scorched burn marks. The room itself was decorated rather elegantly and was tidy--something rather hard to come by in the Underworld. None of this concerned you, however; you just wanted what you came for. Making quick work of the room, you pillaged the entire space, digging into every nook and cranny. There was nothing. Frustrated hot tears welled up in your eyes as you realized this was a huge waste of time. Before you could leave, another horde had entered the room. 

     You turned to them and gave the group a once-over. It was a fairly large pack of random demons, nothing you hadn’t seen or couldn’t handle; but, there was something else--something nearby that felt much stronger than anything you’d faced so far. 

     Fearing the oddly dangerous presence, you made quick work of the demonic horde and bolted out the door. Upon reaching one of the lower rooms, the evil you felt earlier made itself known. A large grey skeletal devil stood in your way. In his right hand, was a large Viking sword, and on each side of him there were twin white wolves that had heavy chain collars. A chill ran up your spine and your stomach began to turn. For the first time in a long time, you were afraid. 

     As you tried to scrabble for a way to escape or a way to get past him, one of the wolves lunged at you.

     Quickly you dodged out of the beast’s way only to find the second to be right in your face. You sliced at its face with your nails and cut it through one of its eyes, but it didn’t flinch. A loud crunch echoed through the room as you felt its teeth tear into your arm, right through your scales--breaking your bones. You grimaced and, in your anger, used the hand of said broken arm to grab the chain around its neck. With all the might you could muster, you threw the wolf into the first; knocking them off to the side. 

     Feeling the same terrifying devil’s power right behind you, you teleported out of the way and watched as the bony devil’s sword struck the floor where you had been standing. Your mind was reeling. It had been a long time since you had teleported and you were unable to control it. So, despite your best and most desperate effort, you couldn’t replicate it again to escape. 

     The wolves had stood back up and went for you once more, but you managed to sidestep both of them and used one as a jump pad; springing yourself at the skeleton. If you couldn’t leave then you are going to die trying. This action took the devil by surprise and allowed you to wrap yourself around his back. Your hands dug at his skull as you tried to pull it from his body; which, despite it not having a physical representation, was stubbornly strong. 

     Growing tired of these games, he grabbed you from his back and held you up; reading his sword. You struggled and growled, scratching at his arms and kicking wildly, waiting for the end of your journey. However it never came, rather, you found yourself stumbling forwards. It seems you had teleported again and, this time, you were right where you needed to be to run for the exit.

     Confused as to what just happened, the devil did a double take before sicking his wolves upon you once more. The entire time you ran down the hall the twin wolves were practically nipping at your heels. Distantly you found yourself wondering if they were toying with you, enjoying the thrill of the hunt as you had done many times before--perhaps this is a sick form of karma? 

     Things came to a head when you reached the foyer of the building. In the room stood a fiery devil. You froze, inadvertently allowing the dogs to catch up with you. They tackled you to the floor and began to bite at your body while their claws dug into your middle. You shouted loudly as you did your best to fight against them, biting and scratching at them in return, but you were unsuccessful. 

     Unexpectedly, the dogs stopped, looked to the side, and removed themselves from your body; leaving you face up on the floor.  

     A part of you thought you had died, that this nightmare was finally coming to an end. In reality, however, the fiery devil had dismissed the dogs back to their owner and was standing above you. Although you know you should’ve been afraid, between the large wings and the gentle warm feeling their body gave off; you felt as if you’d met an angel. Then they began to speak in a language you didn’t understand. 

     “Bolverk,” they turned to look at the bony warrior from before, “Where are the others?”

     “Lord Argosax, I-” he turned to look down at you, “I had sent a troop in to dispose of this vermin, but none returned.”

     Their voice tilted in disbelief, “Really now?”

     Your heart was racing as you sat up, a part of you wanted to run and hope to make it but you knew that this flaming devil was different somehow. Besides, you needed a moment to heal your wounds. 

     “You,” they turned to you, speaking in a tongue that you did understand, “What were you even attempting to gain by breaking in here? There are easier ways to die, I assure you.”

     An aggressive furrow decorated your brow as you tried to speak, unsure of yourself since it had been many years since you’d done so, “Fuck you--!”

     Instantly, you were kicked across the ribs and into a nearby wall. Blood dribbled out of your mouth as you fell back to the floor, laying face down.

     “Such a shame,” a sound of footsteps and slight sizzling told you that the fire devil had moved beside you, “You would’ve been quite the addition to my cause.”

     Everything went dark. Then you took a deep gasping breath, despite your current situation of being impaled, you were still very much alive.

     You slowly got up, moving to a push-up, sitting on your calves, kneeling, then stumbling to a stand leaning against the wall. A glint caught your eye as you looked down, the bony devil’s Viking sword had been plunged through your chest cavity, straight through your heart. With a grimace and a groan, you pulled the blade from your body and held it at the fiery devil’s neck; a crazed look in your eyes and a thunderous growling from your chest.

     You’d expected a fight or some sort of violence, however, that couldn’t have been further from what happened. 

     Rather, the fiery devil lightly ran its finger along the blade, “What a feisty brat,” if they’d had a mouth, you’re sure they would’ve been smirking, “No wonder you managed to make it in here; a power like that is quite rare,” they grabbed the sword and melted it, “To make others feel the attacks that are done against you... I only know of one other devil that could pull that off.”

     Although you were radiating confidence, you couldn’t have been more doubtful of your skills. Right now, you were completely and hopelessly outmatched. As the fiery devil melted the sword, your shoulders tensed as you heard a noise to your left; dodging instinctively. 

     One of the wolves had been sent after you again. You grabbed the wolf’s scruff and bit down through it; piercing its hide. It yelped and thrashed about but you dug your teeth further into its flesh, gripping onto it hard enough to pull its front paws off the ground. 

     “Bolverk,” the flaming devil stood and looked to the swordsman, “Call off your dog; I wasn’t in any danger,” they turned their attention to you, “Can you release Geri?”

     Your lip twitched as you let out a low rumbling growl. After a moment of thought, you did as you were asked. 

     “Good, you are smarter than I thought,” they moved in front of you, “Now, what is a child of Sparda doing here?”

     Another low growl left your lips at that name, Sparda. You’d conditioned yourself to hate your Father, blaming him for everything that you’d been put through. 

     “This is Mundus’s fault, isn’t it?” They took their forefinger and placed it underneath your chin, tilting your face up to look at his, “You’ve been here since Sparda’s demise, haven’t you?” 

     You recoiled your head from his touch and took a few steps backward.

     “My name is Argosax; I’m sure Sparda told you a story about how evil myself and Mundus are, didn’t he?”

     “I don’t know and I don’t care,” your voice was low and your eyes remained on their face, unblinking. 

     “Well then,” Argosax took a step towards you, “If you’d allow me, I would like to know more about you and what has happened; perhaps I can help you attain your revenge--that is what you are seeking, right?” Their voice was gentle however it had a sinister feeling deeply woven beneath it.

     “Revenge…” your brow softened ever-so-slightly, “No.”

     They sighed, “If you are looking for your family then I’m sad to say but,” they placed a hand on your shoulder, “they are all dead.”

     Your gut dropped and your eyes widened as you shook your head ‘no’ backing up till you hit the wall, “No, you are wrong; they are still alive, I just need to get to them.”

     Argosax clicked his tongue quietly, “I am afraid that they are all gone; the fire took them. The fire that happened because of Sparda--for Mundus to send a message.”

     You ground your teeth and clenched your fists tight enough that your palms began to bleed, “Because of…” your lip twitched as you felt a hot burning sensation fill your body. 

     “Mhm,” Argosax bent down slightly and was at face level with you, “Don’t fret; I can help you obtain all that you desire,” your eyes snapped open, noticing that the room had become engulfed in magenta-colored flames--courtesy of your angry outburst, “All I ask in return is for you to swear your servitude to me,” they stuck out their hand, waiting for you to seal the deal. 

     Admittedly, you were hesitant but you weren’t stupid; it was either accept this deal or Argosax would kill you. What choice did you truly have? Cautiously, you reached your hand out and grabbed theirs. Marking the worst mistake of your entire life. 

     Over the years you had lost all of what little humanity you had retained; you couldn’t even remember how to speak anything besides basic Greek or Latin. The training was harsh, borderline unbearable, but you kept going. Your intense hatred for Sparda pushed you over the edge and there was no returning. 

     Quickly you had become the strongest devil in Argosax’s ranks, only being surpassed by them and, their right-hand knight, Bolverk. Your heritage was quite apparent even just by looking at you. No human parts remained, you were fully outfitted in your (Sin) Devil Trigger. Although it wasn’t exact, your form had many similarities with your Father’s, many distinctive things--such as his hooves, knees, or horns.

     Because of how strong you’d become there wasn’t much left for you to learn, so Bolverk and, to some degree, Argosax began to train you. The brutality from the two was like nothing you’d even been through. Perhaps it was because they wanted you to be a perfect warrior or perhaps it was rooted in their deep-set hatred for Sparda; regardless, they tortured you more than they taught you. 

     Any little mistake would put you in what was nicknamed “The Chamber”. Within those four sound-proof walls many vile things happened to you, from things as simple as being starved for weeks on end to much more physically abusive things; you’d been through it all. During this time, Argosax did most of the more extreme punishments. 

     However, despite that, you retained your respect for Argosax; whether it had to do with the deal or an odd form of Stockholm syndrome, you weren’t sure. Every time they’d punish you, you’d almost get off to it; it was as sickening as it was alluring. In your endless torment, you’d convinced yourself that Argo was doing this out of love, out of compassion, for you and your situation. Something that they played into. Telling you that they loved you and that you loved them; however, none of that was true. It was all just to keep you within their pocket and use whenever they needed.  

==

     “Dante!” Vergil shouted at his twin, snapping Dante out of the horrifying implications in the journal before him, “Any time now-!” Vergil rolled out of the way, barely missing the bronze devil’s attack.

     “R-right, sorry!” The red devil shook his head and shut the book, “Vergil, you know Greek right?”

     “Of course,” Vergil growled loudly, shooting Ebony at the aggressor's eyes; unsure of what else to do at this point. 

     “Well, I think--”

     “Just get to the point!” 

     “They don’t know English anymore.”

     Vergil let out a low nearly inaudible whine as he landed near his twin with a small stumble, “So what, you want me to read?”

     “Not read, just talk.”

     “If you don’t think I haven’t tried that--”

     “Tell them Argosax is dead.”

     A small confused tilt adorned Vergil’s brow before he shook his head with a sigh, “Fine. Not like we’ve got much else to go on.”

     The bronze devil waited for the twins to attack again; radiating a sickly amount of cocky confidence. 

     Vergil slowly approached and spoke calmly, “Are you waiting for Argosax to return?” It took a step back in confusion at Vergil’s words, “They are dead and have been for a very long time.”

     With a loud huff, the devil responded in a low, rough voice, “No, they will return; who are you to tell me otherwise?”

     The eldest twin shook his head, “As far as I or anyone else is concerned, Argosax has been dead for nearly two decades; they’re nothing but ashes in the wind.”

     “No!” Its voice reverberated throughout the structure as it slammed The Sparda into the ground, “They can’t be-- No one has that kind of power.”

     Vergil raised a brow and folded his arms, “Really now? Are you aware that any of us could beat Argosax or Mundus? The three of us are much stronger than any of them; surely you knew that you could’ve defeated Argo yourself..?”

     The devil took a step back and looked between the twins, “You speak as if you know about me; when you have no clue who I--”

     “ ‘So Fuzon call’d all together/The remaining children of Urizen:/And they left the pendulous earth:/They called it Egypt, & left it./And the salt ocean rolled englob’d.’. Does that ring a bell?”

     It took another few steps back, “I-- How,” it shook its head, “Are you mocking me?”

     “I don’t mock, I only wish to remind you of yourself; of your humanity.”

     “I am no human,” it placed a hand back on the grip of The Sparda, “Humanity has no place within me, Lord Argosax told--”

     “Then where did your items in your pocket dimension come from? Where did the book that Dante has come from?” Vergil gestured to the devil’s forehead, “Where did that sapphire pendant come from?”

     It said nothing.

     “I understand if you have taken issue with our Father but,” Vergil sighed, “Our Mother, Eva, had nothing to do with that day; it wasn’t her fault. So why denounce her side?”

     The devil yanked The Sparda back out from the floor and spook in an aggressive manner, “You do not know anything, I was shown the truth,” it lunged at the twins, who split apart and dodged the attack.

     “By whom? That manipulative bastard Argosax?” Vergil’s voice became louder, “Perhaps I could tell you the truth that Mundus showed me? The fabricated story of how Sparda was responsible for our Mother’s death and for us three being split apart.”

     It swung the sword wanting nothing more than for Vergil to shut up, “Silence!”

     The eldest’s voice was filled with an ever-increasing aggravation and vexation. Now, lost within his own thoughts he had stopped speaking in Greek, “How that traitor Sparda shouldn’t have sullied demon blood with a human womb?! How he could’ve used a child with some grit?!”

     Dante’s eyes widened upon hearing what his brother was saying. All he could do was stare in disbelief and with mouth agape in shock, this was no longer aimed at their youngest sibling; no, Vergil was being swept away by his own memories.

     Vergil darted at the devil, leaving a cloud of dust and cracked tile where he stood, “Do you honestly think that Argosax wanted anything more than a puppet? A pet with the name Sparda attached to it?”

     The pair interlocked swords and ground against one another in a hold. The blue devil’s eyes had a crazed expression; a mixture of a primal devilish wickedness and a deep-rooted terror that sent a very distinctive chill up Dante’s spine--the same feeling he got seeing what happened to his brother after Mundus.

     In Vergil’s anger, he unintentionally used his Sin Trigger and snarled at the bronze devil, “Argosax was no different than Mundus; they were playing savior to a disgraceful weak half-human offspring,” Vergil stood eye to eye with the bronze devil, “Tell me, do you still remember yourself or have you lost it with all that putrid shit Argosax told you?!”

     They froze at Vergil’s sudden overwhelming anger, giving the blue devil a chance to tackle them to the ground, pinning them.

     “I know you can understand me,” his wings flared out behind him as his tail flicked around, “Answer me!” His claws dug deep into the bronze devil’s arms.

     The pinned devil opened its mouth but said nothing. Despite Vergil piercing their hide, it didn’t use its power to make Vergil hurt; no, it just laid there and stared. After a few minutes, Dante slowly crept closer and peered over Vergil’s body to see what was going on. 

     The blue devil’s claws had dug far enough into the bronze devil’s flesh that his fingertips were inside their arm. Despite this, the pair just were just staring at each other. The bronze devil wasn’t struggling or trying to move; the only thing it did was wince when Vergil shoved his claws further. 

     Another few minutes passed. Dante had begun debating if he needed to step in and separate them, however, this was quickly answered.

     A loud snarl of a cry came from Vergil as he de-triggered. His eyes were filled with tears and he had enough running down his face that they were collecting at his chin, dripping down onto the pinned devil. He wanted to say something, anything, but only managed a weak, “Please,” that was followed by a voice crack. 

     Dante placed a gentle hand on his twin’s shoulder, “Vergil…”

     “Ver-gil?” The twins could see the gears turning in the devil’s head as it tried to place the name before its gaze slowly turned to Dante, “You are Da-nte then..?” It turned its gaze back to Vergil, and with a slight pause, it let out a low exhale, “My brothers..?”

     Vergil’s fingers tightened on the devil’s arm, making it flinch, “Yes.”

     The younger twin grabbed Vergil’s shoulder again, this time sternly, “Verge, stop--”

     “How-,” The devil’s gaze flicked between the two, “How are you still alive? More importantly,” the devil sat up, making Vergil sit on its lap in the process, “What are you doing here? If Lord Argosax truly is dead then the Underworld will be in ruins; you two are in immense danger.”

     Dante stared at Vergil for translation, but only got to hear Vergil’s response… That was also unintelligible to the red devil, “Who do you think killed such vermin? We aren’t in danger, only lost.”

     “Lost..?”

     With a nod, he let out a heavy wet sigh hoping to re-compose himself, “Yes,” Vergil carefully removed his fingers, a thick line of blood connecting him to the open heavily-bleeding wounds, “We are trying to get home and Yamato can do so but-”

     “You need a place close to the human world?”

     Vergil nodded and stood up, assisted by Dante. He looked up, “I don’t know if this place will work anymore…”

     The entire top six floors were missing and you all were staring at the open sky.

     “Ah, sorry about that,” you sighed, “I can escort you to another pinch-point if you would like?”

     “There aren’t any others close by.”

     You laughed and stretched out your wings, “I am faster than you’d believe.”

     “Ehem!” Dante put his free hand in his pocket, still holding the scrapbook in the other, “Care to share? Or are you two like shit-talking me or somethin’?”

     You stumbled over your words a bit, still struggling on how to say your brothers’ names, “I first want my book back, Dante,” you stuck your hand out, waiting.

     “Uh…”

     Vergil wiped his blood-stained fingers off on his coat, “They want their book back.”

     “Oh! Sure thing, here,” Dante placed the book in your hand; which you held up and it disappeared, returning to your small dimension of valuables. 

     “So…” Dante walked over to his coat that, thankfully, had fallen with the floors but wasn’t any more damaged than it already was, “What’s the plan?”

     Vergil straightened his coat, “They are going to take us to a new place; this one is no longer suitable for Yamato to work.”

     The younger twin sighed, “So, how long is this walk going to be?”

     You scooped up both brothers, holding one in each arm, as they wrapped themselves tightly to your neck. 

     “Verge,” Dante looked to his twin.

     “Hm?”

     “We sure this is a good idea? I mean, they were just beating the shit out of both of us..?”

     Vergil did a slow turn to the red devil, “I destroyed an entire city and threatened the entire human race, again… Then you decided to come down here with me… How is this any different?”

     “Fair, I umphf-!”

     You abruptly turned to the left, making both twins jolt violently within your arms, “There,” your wings stretched out wide before you neatly dug your heels into the ground, “Hold on tight.”

     With that, you flew straight up and felt both brothers tighten their grip tenfold. You took a moment to stabilize yourself since you aren’t used to having all the extra weight. Then, there was a thunderous clap. Both twins flinched at the ungodly loud noise, especially since neither of them was used to such noise from flying. Although you’d told Vergil that you were fast, breaking the sound barrier wasn’t exactly what he imagined. 

     It didn’t take long for the three of you to find the new pinch-point. Once again, it was a structure within Argosax’s domain. You landed on the roof and placed your siblings down. Both of them were dazed and Dante actually had leaned over to throw up (which he had nothing to purge so he just dry heaved). 

     You gave them both a curious look, “Are you alright?”

     Vergil looked at you and unknowingly yelled in response, “What?!” 

     “I see, never mind,” you waved a hand in dismissal and waited for the twins to return to normal; however, the three of you were paid some company.

     Both brothers readied themselves but, once more, you raised a hand, “Allow me, the two of you need to return to a stable condition before you leave.”

     The horde was nothing more than a sneeze of a challenge to you. You didn’t even need to use The Sparda; no, all you needed was your hands. It was times like these that you had grown to cherish during your time here in the Underworld; times where you could let loose, to rip and tear without any repercussions. You took only a minute to desolate the horde, finishing by ripping out a Fury’s throat with your teeth. 

     You turned to your brothers, gore still hanging in your mouth, and waved shyly. The expression on both of their faces was a mixture of impressed and horrified--Dante was mostly just horrified. You sucked the bits of flesh that were in your teeth into your mouth, eating them.

     “That’s,” Dante stared at the floor unable to look at you, “I’ve seen some gross shit but--”

     “It is the way of the world down here,” Vergil ran a hand through his hair, “Eat or be eaten.”

     “You ever have to..?”

     “No,” Vergil shook his head, “Nelo did not require food.”

     “Huh, really? How’s that work?”

     Vergil turned to his twin, “Perhaps I can explain more at a later date. For now, we have a more pressing engagement.”

     Dante nodded, “ ‘Suppose you’re right.”

     The twins walked over to you, who was currently gnawing on the last Fury’s corpse. A quiet “Ehem” from Vergil caught your attention and you stopped eating.

     “Sorry,” you stood up, “Are you two ready to go?”

     Vergil raised a brow with folded arms, “You mean us three? If you think we are going to leave you down here then you are mistaken.”

     Your eye flicked between the pair, “I do not know if that is--”

     Vergil huffed lightly, “This isn’t up for discussion, as the oldest child and the one who is making the path home; I have the final say,” his arms relaxed to his sides, “You are coming with us.”

     In an almost shy manner, you wiped your face using one of your forearms; doing your best to clean yourself, “Can you make a portal that can handle all three of us? Yamato’s original use was only for one at a time.”

     A confident smug smirk tugged at Vergil’s lips, “Trust me when I say,” he removed the blade from its scabbard, “I can do much more with Yamato than anyone knows.”

     Dante moved to stand next to you, grabbing your hand, and he mumbled quietly, “You’re gonna like the human world, I promise.”

     Before you could respond, Vergil sliced open a large plus-shaped hole; opening a large portal. He looked at the two of you before grabbing Dante’s free hand, “Tread lightly and keep close to me.”

     The two of you nodded, making sure to keep hold of one another, and traversed through the portal. 

     Once on the other side, the three of you found yourself in the middle of a snowy pine forest. You hissed loudly at how ungodly bright it was and covered your eyes. Dante stretched his arms up with a loud groan and then flopped face-first into the thick snow.

     His voice was muffled as he laid, unmoving, “Nap time.”

     Before Vergil or you could protest, Dante was already snoring. 

     Vergil let out a content sigh, a small smile adorning his face, as he sat down in the snow. You joined him, cautiously sitting in the snow. After a few moments, you tried to relax and allowed your wings to lay flat behind you on the snow, sending a shiver up your spine.

     After some time, Vergil ended up curling up in the snow; which, a half-asleep Dante proceeded to smother by wrapping himself around his twin. If this had been any other situation or context, Vergil would have gutted Dante on the spot--that is if Vergil allowed himself to sleep in the first place. However, both of them were exhausted from who knows how long they’d been traveling. 

     You, on the other hand, were wide awake. Sleep had become something you couldn’t afford to do when working under such circumstances. A small sad, almost envious, feeling pricked at the edges of your mind as you watched the fast-asleep two-person pile. 

     They slept for several hours and Dante at one point even offer (and beckoned) for you to join their cozy pile; however, you shook your head. Keeping them safe was all that you had in mind; something you’d wanted to do since they were taken from you. 

     Once fully healed and mostly rested, the twins decided to figure out what the next course of action would be. 

     Dante sighed, “What I wouldn’t give for some food right about now--”

     You stood up, “I can get something! I’ll be right back.”

     Vergil snickered slightly, “That’s not what he means, however, that is a nice--”

     It was too late, you’d already run off into the woods.

     “Hey!” Dante went to chase after you only to be stopped by Vergil grabbing his arm.

     “They are going to bring back food,” Vergil shook his head and spoke quietly, “What that food is or what that means, I’m not sure.”

     “Let’s just hope that doesn’t mean that they are going to hunt humans…”

     After a moment of silence, Vergil reached to his lower back and pulled something out, “Here,” he held out Ebony, “I do not wish to use this any longer.”

     “Alright,” Dante grabbed the gun and put it back in its holster, ��If you ever wanna use ‘em again,” he winked, “Just lemme know.”

     Vergil rolled his eyes. They sat in comfortable silence for a while, Dante resting his eyes and Vergil looking over Yamato for any damage or filth to clean. 

     “Hey, Verge, why can’t we just use that again,” he gestured to Yamato, “to get back to Red Grave.”

     “I need to know where we are to use Yamato correctly,” Vergil mindlessly tapped his fingers on the scabbard. 

     “So we need to find a town or something then…” Dante sighed as he flopped face up into the snow, arms spread out, “Wonderful.”

     Vergil turned over his shoulder to look at Dante, “I do not see what the problem is with that?”

     The red devil’s brow furrowed, “Really?” The eldest gave no response, “Verge, we look like shit, we are covered in blood, and who knows what else-- we probably smell horrid- and we are traveling with an over seven-foot tall devil,” his eyes went back to staring up at the sky; however, instead of the sky, his gaze was met with a dead Elk. To say Dante jumped would be an understatement.

     The blue devil raised a brow, “I see you’ve returned?”

     You nodded. The dead creature was supported by your arms, however, your teeth were still deep within its neck.

     “Dante,” Vergil turned to his now calm sibling, “Can you make a fire?”

     “Sure, I--”

     Instantly, there was a small magenta fire in front of them and they turned back to you; who, even if you couldn’t properly emote it, they could tell was smiling.

     The twins helped you cut apart the meat, you’d long forgotten how to properly process an animal. Then using The Sparda’s spines, you hooked the meat up over the fire to cook. 

     “Alright, I gotta ask,” Dante looked at you as he cocked his head in curiosity, “Why didn’t you have The Sparda before..?”

     “Because I couldn’t summon it between realms, my pocket dimension is different and transcends such physical limitations.”

     Dante stared at you in confusion before Vergil translated for him, “Ah, I see.”

     As the meat cooked, the twins and you shared stories; both good and bad. Admittedly, this was the most you’d spoken since your last time seeing the twins; the most you’d spoken in over three decades. 

     The venison was unseasoned and cooked unevenly but was still rather tasty. It took you a few tries to get it down, not because it was bad or anything, but because it was much different than a demon’s meat.

     It was nearly midnight by the time you’d all finished eating. Dante and you ate most of it, Vergil isn’t used to eating more than a few scraps but he made sure to eat a decent chunk. You snuffed out the fire and put The Sparda away, as you did so the twins had curled back together and were sleeping. All you could do was stare at them. 

     As the weeks went on the three of you hadn’t found any sign of where you were, only seeing a few unoccupied hunting tree stands and abandoned campsites. Dante and Vergil had begun to re-teach you how to speak English (or rather remind you.). It took a while for you to re-grasp the language but you were able to finally communicate with both siblings, no longer relying on Vergil to be your translator. 

     At one point the three of you found a small lake. In a blink, Dante was nude and was easing his way into the cold bath. His arms were held close to his body with his fists in front of his chest, shivering heavily and saying various things; such as, “Holy shit that’s cold,” 

     “Are you going to join him?” You asked a very unamused Vergil.

     “Are you?” 

     The question caught you off guard, “Am… I?” You paused in thought for a moment, “It has been so long since I’ve seen water like this,” you let out a low growling laugh, “I don’t know if I remember how to swim.”

     Vergil began to strip off his blood-soaked clothing, placing it in a neat pile next to Dante’s disheveled mess, “Then that makes two of us.”

     Your head moved back a bit in surprise, before you could question him, Vergil moved to join Dante in the lake. 

     The blue devil’s shoulders shot up to his ears as he hissed from the freezing temperature. Dante was already comfortable enough that he was swimming around. A wicked smirk decorated his face as he snuck over to Vergil and splashed water up at him. Vergil’s body arched from the sudden icy feeling, cursing Dante in the process. 

     The younger twin’s laughter died down when he got a better look at Vergil’s bare skin, “Hey,” his fingers lightly touched Vergil’s back, who instinctively flinched away, “What..?”

     Without meeting Dante’s eyes he mumbled, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

     Unsure how to help, Dante grabbed his twin into a vice grip of a hug; despite the eldest’s protests.

     All the while you watched from the shore. Slowly you’d inched your hooves into the water, but you hadn’t moved since then. A part of you wondered what Vergil had meant by telling you that he might not know how to swim either; combine that with the abhorrent scarring on his back, and you were more than confused. 

     “Hey!” Dante yelled over to you, “You coming in? The water’s nice~!” He let out a hardy laugh.

     You looked down at the rolling liquid, unsure if you should. That’s when you felt something push you. When you whipped around, you saw that Vergil’s doppelgänger was behind you and it pushed you again. 

     Dante noticed and began to laugh harder as Vergil had a warm smile tugging at his lips. Slowly but surely the apparition made you enter the water. It wasn’t warm per se, but your body was hot enough that the temperature of the entire lake shifted up several degrees. The twins both washed themselves as you played with the water like a small child. You’d set your hand on the top and slowly push it down, feeling the surface of it give way to your scaled digits. 

     Having already finished cleaning himself, Dante swam over to you and splashed you. In shock, you shot downwards; submerging yourself. Under the water, you saw so much that you’d never seen before. Little fish that were playing with each other, small crabs that you put your hand out to and they pinched your fingers, several different types of vegetation, and many colorful stones. You felt something tug the end of your wing and resurfaced, seeing that Dante and Vergil were staring at you.

     “Thought I made you drown, heh…” Dante placed a hand on the back of his neck, “Sor--!”

     You used your wings to splash him--and Vergil by accident. The three of you engaged in a water fight, splashing and rough-housing with one another. It was fun, right up until the three of you heard a loud crunch from the embankment.

     A large polar bear was standing at the edge, watching you. Curious as to what it was, you got up and out of the water; despite both siblings telling you to stop. Upon reaching it, you stuck your hand out to pet it when it bit you. Enraged at the sudden act of aggression, you killed it. Then, you stared at the body horrified at what you’d just done. You flipped your gaze to your brothers who stared back, Dante was the only one that had any expression and he was just as horrified as you. 

     Vergil walked out of the water and placed a hand on your shoulder, “It is alright, accidents happen.”

     Without another word, you placed a hand on the dead bear, petting its soft blood-stained fur. Carefully, you incinerated the carcass. The twins got dressed and the three of you headed back on your way, never bringing up the incident again.

     Another week passed and the three of you finally found a small town.

     “Alright,” Dante said, getting up off the downed tree that he’d been using as a resting spot, “You two stay here and I’ll go get some info.”

     “Are you sure you do not want me to accompany you?” Vergil raised a brow.

     “Nah, I’ll be fine. Besides,” Dante looked over to you, “Someone needs to stay with ‘em.”

     Vergil’s gaze joined Dante’s and watched as you were intently watching a caterpillar as it inched along, your wings flapping a bit in excitement. The two smiled softly. Although you were a rather twisted version of the child they once knew, seeing you partake in such innocent things made them both feel happy.

     A short pause later, Dante slapped Vergil on the shoulder, “Alright, I’ll be back later,” he leaned over and whispered just loud enough for Vergil to hear, “Try to keep them from killing anything or anyone, yeah?”

     “Of course,” the blue devil folded his arms, “I am still the eldest, I know how to take care of my siblings.”

     “Had me convinced otherwise--”

     Vergil jabbed Dante in the gut with his elbow. 

     The younger twin left, waving goodbye to you--who was much too enamored with the small bug to notice. 

     “That is called an Arctic Woolly Bear caterpillar,” Vergil meandered over to you with his hands folded behind his back, “They are quite common in North America.”

     You looked over at him, “Is it dangerous?”

     He shook his head, “No, they are harmless,” gently, the blue devil picked up your hand, “Open your palm and do not shut it,” you watched as he placed the small fuzzy bug in your hand.

     A quiet purring could be heard from you as you watched it crawl on your hand, Vergil still holding the underside in case you accidentally shut your fingers. 

     “They do not have these in Hell… I wish they did.”

     Vergil laughed softly, “I know, I am quite knowledgeable about how things work down there.”

     “How?”

     The eldest twin’s face fell into a somber frown, “Here, let’s let the little creature go first,” he grabbed it from your hand and placed it back where he had grabbed it from. He sat on the ground, gesturing for you to do the same, “I cannot tell you everything just yet, however,” he paused and stared at the ground in front of him, “I can tell you about my time serving Mundus.”

     You tilted your head, “I remember you mentioned something about that when we were fighting.”

     He nodded, “I was forced to serve Mundus after I foolishly tried to defeat him, alone,” you watched as Vergil’s brow furrowed further and further with each sentence, “I knew it was a bad move but what other choice did I have?”

     You grabbed one of his hands, giving it a gentle squeeze.

     He gave a small half-hearted smile and took a minute before continuing, “In my arrogance and desire for power, I ended up being defeated by Mundus. Who proceeded to take my humanity from me, entombing me within armor made by Machiavelli…”

     Your body stiffened, “In the Nelo Angelo?” 

     “You know of it?”

     “I was taught about Devil Arms and Machiavelli’s work was somewhat of an obsession of Lord Argosax.”

     “I see,” Vergil’s posture slumped forwards a bit, bringing his shoulders to his ears, “I spent nearly ten years trapped like that.”

     “I am surprised that we never met.”

     “Mundus was smarter than that,” Vergil’s voice was quiet, almost meek, “Seeing Dante and his amulet half nearly broke the hold it had on me, but after so long I…”

     He went silent. You wanted to know more but you could also see how distressed your brother had become, even if it didn’t look like it from an outside view. So, not knowing what else to do, you manhandled him into your lap and embraced him; holding him tightly and wrapping your wings around the two of you--cocooning you together. 

     Although you couldn’t fully understand the pain and suffering that the eldest son of Sparda had gone through, you could relate to some degree. At first, he pushed you away and tried to escape, which he could’ve done if he had wanted; however, he didn’t. No, Vergil wanted to be comforted--to be held--but was much too proud to admit it, especially to Dante. 

     Vergil’s cursing slowly turned to soft sobs. His shoving turned to a vice grip, grabbing you as tightly as possible. All the while, you were purring and telling him that things will be alright now. You made small circles on his upper back, mimicking what Eva used to do when any of you were upset. Underneath the fabric, you could feel the scarring you saw earlier; the deep chasms that turned his once identical body into something so far off from his twin--something that secretly pained the eldest twin. 

     After some time, Vergil’s cries ceased and he just quietly sat within your gentle hold; relishing in an affection he had long since forgotten. He quietly murmured something against your chest, “I’m glad you’re still alive.”

     A pang of bittersweet shot through you, those words that were said to you many times when you were young. Words of endearment. 

     Softly, you whispered back, “I’m glad too,” you gently squeezed him, “I love you lots, Vergil.”

     He let out a wet half-hearted laugh, tears welling at the edges of his eyes, “To think this was something any of us could only have merely dreamed of for so long,” his fingers gently grabbed your hand, intertwining them, “to be back together as a family.”

     “I wouldn’t trade you both for the world,” your voice was low and soft, doing your best to sound as human as possible, “All I wanted was to have my brothers back…” now it was your turn to let out a huffed laugh on the verge of tears--or what would be tears if you could cry in this form, “I threw everything away in the pursuit of avenging the two of you--and Mother.”

     “It’s almost poetic that the most hot-headed of the three of us would be the only one not to blindly follow something to the point of destruction,” this, of course, was in reference to Dante; a child who would regularly get in massive trouble for doing things he shouldn’t be doing. 

     The two of you shared a small laugh before a third voice broke the conversation.

     “Hey! I’m back!” Dante waved to you as you unfurled your wings, letting Vergil out. 

     “Well,” Vergil stood, folding his arms, “Where are we then.”

     “Here,” the red devil handed him a map, “Up in Northern Canada, I guess.”

     “I see,” Vergil looked over the large North American map, finding Red Grave, and sighing heavily, “The trip through the portal will be rough and long, it is quite a distance to travel.”

     “Eh,” Dante shrugged, “I’m sure we’ll all be fine.”

     Vergil looked back at you, who had stood up as well, “Are you ready to go home?”

     You looked at the ground for a moment in thought, “Home…” Before nodding slowly.

     “Alright,” Vergil looked over the map one more time before handing it to Dante, “I will take us back to the house.”

     “Why not Devil May Cry?” Dante raised a brow, stuffing the map inside an inner jacket pocket.

     “Because I don’t know where that is,” he unsheathed Yamato and took a deep breath. 

     As the blue devil opened the portal, you moved towards Dante and grabbed his hand, whispering, “I don’t want to lose you.”

     The red devil’s eyes widened as he turned up to you, unsure how to vocalize the sudden warm feeling in his heart; so, he squeezed your hand hard and smiled.

     Vergil slid Yamato back into its scabbard, “Let’s go,” he stuck out a hand, which Dante grabbed tightly. 

     The three of you walked through the gap in dimensions. A portal created by Yamato is essentially a pocket dimension with extra steps; however, it can be used to transport the one who opened it as well--not just the items within. 

     It took what felt like a few minutes for the three of you when, in reality, it took nearly an entire day to traverse such a wide span. Once on the other side, the three of you stood within the destroyed remnants of your childhood home. You were the first to let go of your siblings and began to wander towards the mantle. 

     Upon it was the family painting. It was burnt beyond recognition. Although Eva was almost perfectly preserved and the twins’ were semi-damaged, Sparda and yourself were tattered to the point of not knowing what you looked like. You carefully reached toward the canvas and placed your fingers on the place you used to be. Perhaps it is some sort of pathetic irony that the only one who died in that fire is the only one whose portrait wasn’t damaged. The only one who was truly a saint amongst devils. 

     “Hey,” Dante gently touched your wing, making you flinch and pivot around, “Are you okay?”

     You froze at the odd question. Were you? After everything that’s happened, are you still truly the same sibling they used to know? The same child that was eternalized in those oil paints? Or are you some sort of out-of-place and unwelcomed creature? Do you really belong up here with humans or should you still be in that crumbling building, waiting to be rescued by someone who will never come? 

     Dante grabbed your hand, “Let’s go to my shop, it is where I’ve been living since I was a teen,” he smiled softly, “I’m sure you’ll like it.”

     A small whimpered huff came from you as you tightened your fingers around your brother’s. 

     “Wait,” Vergil folded his arms, “Perhaps it would be best for Dante to go first and see who is all at the shop? I do not wish for your first interaction with your nephew to be one of violence.”

     Nephew?

     Dante nodded, “Fair point, alright-- Fine, I’ll go make sure the ol’ beaut is shining and perfect.”

     Vergil rolled his eyes, “If it is anything like it was when you first moved in,” he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, “It is a disaster.”

     “Hey, it wasn’t that bad and besides,” Dante let go of your hand, “It was your fault it got trashed in the first place, Verge.”

     “Are you sure about that, Mister “Let me kick down my own doors”?” 

     “The shop was ruined already-- Look we can debate this later, I want to go get this done and finally get some good rest.”

     “Fine, just,” Vergil grumbled, “be careful.”

     “Aw, what was that oh sweet big brother of mine? Urk-!” Dante grabbed his shoulder which had a small blue sword stuck in his bicep.

     The youngest twin waved goodbye and, once he turned back away from you both, used his Devil Trigger to get to the shop faster. 

     Once he got within the city limits, Dante de-Triggered and began to sprint down the sidewalk. The air was nice and cool, making Dante’s run feel rather rejuvenating; plus, it had begun to rain. It was late and not a soul was in sight, so Dante used Trickster to move even faster. He couldn’t wait to get home, to show both Vergil and you the shop. He joyfully hopped up the stairs and knocked on the doors.

     No response.     “Huh…” He peered around the corner and saw that the foyer lights were on, so he knocked again. This time, however, it was fast and hard; making sure to be as loud as he could without breaking the door. 

     The door slowly opened just a crack and a sleepy man's voice simply said, “We’re closed.”

     Dante laughed, “Well, then, guess I’ll have to come home tomorrow then.”

     There was silence. The door didn’t move, staying open just a crack. Dante could hear the heart rate of the man spike upon hearing those words. As if he were afraid to see, the door inched open; revealing a very disheveled-looking Nero. 

     “Man, I thought that I needed a haircu--umphf-!” Dante felt the air leave his lungs.

     Nero grabbed his uncle into a tight hug, gripping handfuls of Dante’s jacket. Hot bitter tears ran down his face as he sobbed into the red devil’s neck. 

     Dante lovingly clasped his arms around the young man, “I missed you too, Nero.”

     “I thought that,” his voice cracked, “that you weren’t going to come back.”

     “And leave you to carry on the family business all by your lonesome? Not a chance,” he pulled back out of the hug, firmly holding Nero’s shoulders, “Look, I know that I have no right to ask you but, can you do me a favor? Just for tonight.”

     The teal devil’s voice was apprehensive, having a feeling as to what was going to be said, “What?”

     “Verge is with me,” he heard Nero sigh, “The two of you can settle things tomorrow… I need the shop to be calm tonight, please?” 

     “Why?” Nero didn’t mean to be so blunt but he couldn’t help but be a bit salty.

     “Because,” Dante smiled, closing his eyes, “I’ve got a surprise family member for you to meet; I think they’d be called a ‘Pibling’..?”

     “You and Vergil have another sibling? Since when?” 

     “Since they were born.”

     Nero punched Dante’s shoulder harshly, “Very funny asshole.”

     “Just promise me you’ll be nice? Please?”

     “Alright, alright,” Nero sighed and wiped the few stray tears from his face, “So where are they?” 

     “I gotta go get ‘em. Unlock the garage door, yeah?”

     “Sure,” Dante turned to leave before Nero called out to him, “Wait!”     Nero stepped out of the shop and stood face-to-face with Dante. 

     They stood in silence for a moment before Dante softly sighed, “I promise I’ll be right back,” Dante ruffled up Nero’s hair.

==

     Vergil sighed, resting on the partially still intact staircase, “It was an accident.”

     You gave Vergil a sorrowful stare, “Have you told Dante about--”

     “No,” the blue devil’s voice was sharp, “and you are not to tell him either,” he sighed and placed his forearms on his thighs, “Nero has been through enough, knowing that his mother did that… It would only make things worse.”

     With a small nod, you looked up at the sky. It had begun to rain. The water was cold as you watched it fall, this had been the first time you’d seen rain since returning to the human world. You flinched for a few minutes from the droplets hitting your scales, however, you got accustomed to them bit by bit. After some time, you stood up and spread out your wings, watching the water roll off the tips and onto the desolated flooring of your childhood home. 

     Vergil watched from his seat with an amused smirk. Once again, the fact you seemed to be so innocent and child-like despite what happened piqued his interest. Upon seeing you shake off like a wet dog, he couldn’t help but laugh. 

     Noticing your brother’s odd reaction, you stared at him and watched as his face became flushed with embarrassment, turning away. Much to the blue devil’s ease, Dante appeared before you could question him. 

     “Alright kids,” Dante was standing in his Triggered form, his hands on his hips, “Let’s go, shall we?”

     Both Dante and you stared a Vergil, waiting for him to Trigger. 

     After a few moments, Vergil stood up, “Fine…” A flash of cornflower blue filled the room and there stood Vergil in his regular Devil Trigger.

     Dante wolf-whistled, “Been a while since I’ve seen you like that--Lookin’ good tiger,” he winked just to top off the corny line.

     “Silence,” he glared at Dante, making you laugh slightly.

     The three of you took off, the red devil leading the trio. It was difficult for you to travel at such low speeds, which made you almost hit both brothers several times during the flight. Often you’d find that you’d need to stop and wait before continuing, giving yourself small gaps to fly in. The twins found it rather amusing and even made a few jokes about how “Everyone has issues with finishing too fast” or things along that line--even Vergil made a few, much to Dante’s surprise. 

     The three of you landed in the back alleyway behind DMC. Both brothers de-Triggered and Dante bent over to pick up the roller shutter door. 

     “Welcome home, kids,” he smiled widely and placed his hands on his hips.

     Nero stood in the garage, leaning against one of the workbenches, but stood up straight upon seeing the three of you. 

     Vergil was unable to look Nero in the eye, a strong feeling of guilt eating at his mind. You didn’t take all of two seconds before walking into the garage, ducking under the door, and walking up to Nero. Curious, you bent down to look at him closer. His eyes were wide and he was fighting the urge to grab Blue Rose from his side. 

     You curiously tilted your head and stared at him, “You’re smaller than I thought you’d be.”

     Nero’s brow furrowed as he sputtered, attempting to figure out a response. 

     Carefully, you reached your hand out and ruffled Nero’s hair, “Soft…”

     Dante snickered loudly, reveling in the embarrassed expression on Nero’s face.

     The teal devil finally managed to say something, “What the fuck?”

     “Hm?” You titled your head to the other side, still petting the top of his head.

     “H-Hey! Knock it off!!” Nero unintentionally stuttered as he tried to look angry, which was completely ruined by the bright red tint of his cheeks. 

     “Oh! Sorry,” you removed your hand and stood back up straight.

     “It’s fine, I guess,” he cleared his throat and regained his regular composure, “So, your Dante and Vergil’s sibling then huh?”

     You nodded, “You’re Nero, right? Vergil’s son?”

     “Tch. Right,” he glared at the blue devil from the corner of his eye, “His son.”

     “I’m sorry-- maybe, your donor would be better? I didn’t mean to upset--”

     Dante wheezed super loud and doubled over in laughter, making you turn to view your brothers.

     “What is so funny?” You tilted your head.

     “It’s nothing,” Vergil shook his head, “Dante is just immature.”

     “Hey,” Dante stood back up, wiping tears from his eyes, “That’s harsh. You can’t tell me that isn’t funny.”

     “It’s not,” Vergil’s tone was flat.

     “Ehem,” the three of you turned to Nero, “Can we go inside? It’s late and I have a contract in the morning.”

     “A con-tract?” You cocked your head to the side, “For what?”

     “Uh… I don’t know if I should tell you. Seeing as your all,” Nero gestured up and down your body, “like that.”

     “Like what?” 

     “I--”

     Dante cut in, “Nero’s got a demon hunting job in the morning, it’s what he--and I--do for a living.”

     “Ooo!” Your wings fluttered a bit in excitement, “Can I come?!”

     “Can you-- what? Shouldn’t that be--?”

     You laughed softly, “If you are worried about offending me, I assure you,” you leaned down and made eye contact with him, “I have killed more demons than any of you in this room and, moreover, eaten their corpses,” you tilted your head and had a happy tone to your voice, “Only good demon, is a dead demon.”

     Nero stood with a pale expression. 

     Your elated state fell, “Did I say something wrong?”

     Dante grabbed your shoulder, “Nope, he just thinks that you’re gonna kill us three too.”

     “Oh no,” you shook your head, “We aren’t demons-- we are devils, there is quite a large difference.”

     “R-right,” Nero swallowed hard.

     “Welp,” Dante smiled widely, “Why don’t we go inside and relax for a bit?”

     Coyly you nodded, embarrassed that you’d just freaked out your own nephew. The red and teal devil both went in the door, leaving you with Vergil.

     Using one of your wings, you nudged him and gestured to the door with a nod, “Come on, let’s go inside.”

     He went first and you followed, ducking under the frame. A sudden overwhelming melancholic feeling shot through your body. The shop was relatively clean; which, compared to how Dante left it, the shop may as well have been spotless. Both twins and Nero had moved further into the shop and were talking amongst themselves; you, however, were standing at the dividing line between the main section of the room and the small off-shoot that had the bar. 

     All you could do was stare, unable to move from your spot. Perhaps if you had the ability to, you would’ve cried. 

     “So,” Dante put a hand in his pocket, “How long have we been gone anyway?”

     Nero pursed his lips as he stared at Vergil for a moment, “Nearly two years.”

     “Holy shit,” the red devil stood in disbelief, “I-- I gotta call Trish and Lady in the mornin’... They’re gonna freak.”

     “Yeah,” Nero’s eyes finally left Vergil, “They are supposed to stop by in the morning to pick up a contract Morrison left tonight, you could surprise ‘em then..?”

     “Good idea pipsqueak,” he ruffled Nero’s hair, getting some venomous cursing in response, “So, my room still mine or you’d move into it?”

     The teal devil gripped Dante’s forearm, trying to pull him off, “I didn’t touch your shit.”

     “Ah, alrighty,” the younger twin removed his hand and placed it on Vergil’s shoulder, “Let’s go, Grandpa, it’s way past your bedtime.”

     Vergil frowned but said nothing, much to Dante’s disappointment.

     “What about them?” Nero pointed to you, who had moved ever-so-slightly into the foyer and were playing with the jukebox’s buttons (thankfully it still didn’t work fully).

     “They’ll join me and Vergil,” a devilish smile filled Dante’s face, “Actually, you two wait down here--I’ll be right back.”

     “Wait-- and he’s gone,” Nero pursed his lips and sighed. He turned to Vergil who still couldn’t look him in the eye, after a short pause, the young man walked over to the desk and opened the top drawer, “Catch.”

     Vergil grabbed the object that Nero threw, it was Vergil’s poetry book.

     “Been keeping it in case you two decided to return,” now it was Nero’s turn to not be able to look at the other, “Figured I should after what V told me about you.”

     Vergil pursed his lips, “Thank you, Nero.”

     “Yeah, whatever,” he scoffed, doing his best to keep his emotions in check, and walked over to you, “What are you trying to do?”

     “I remember always wanting one of these when I was a kid,” you tapped the silver decoration on the top edge, “Sparda used to talk about jukeboxes quite often,” a bittersweet feeling filled your heart at the thought, unsure how to feel about your Father, “Told me for my sixteenth birthday that he’d get me one that I’d always fixated on,” you sighed, “But that was a long time ago, I doubt you care for stories like those.”

     Nero leaned against the bar counter, “Actually, it is funny hearing about how much of a normal guy Sparda was after being raised in a cult that obsessed over the old man.”

     “A Sparda-based cult? How stupid,” you laughed and turned to Nero, “He was just a devil, nothing more.”

     “That’s what I thought,” Nero smiled.

     A loud thump caught everyone’s attention. At the bottom of the stairs was a large pile of blankets and pillows. Dante was trotting down the staircase with a juvenile excitement on his face.

     “Dante,” Vergil raised a brow and folded his arms, “What in the world is this about?”

     “Well,” Dante walked over to the couches and grabbed the cushions from them, placing them on the floor, “I always wanted to have a sleepover when we were kids, but,” he grabbed some of the pillows he’d thrown, “was never allowed to or able to.”

     “You’re joking, right?” A skeptical brow adorned the eldest’s face.

     “Nope,” the red devil smiled and began to fold some of the blankets, continuing to make the nest of plush on the foyer floor, “I just spent two goddamn years in Hell and almost died countless times,” he closed his eyes and smiled wider, “and I would’ve died without having even one sleepover. So,” he tossed the last few blankets near the pile, “before I kick the bucket, I am having one.”

     “And you are expecting Nero, myself, and them to join you?”

     “E-yup!” Dante placed his hands on his hips, “Come on it’ll be fun.”

     Nero’s lips turned to a flat line, “I don’t want to agree with Vergil, but, what the fuck?”

     “I’ll do it,” you raised your hand slightly, “Although, I don’t sleep,” you began to mumble a bit, “The two of you always looked so cozy, but I didn’t want something to happen to you so…”

     The red devil walked over to you and grabbed your hand, “Well then let’s change that, hm?”

     He led you to the center of the nest and gestured for you to lay. Carefully, you did so and laid face-up with your wings tucked behind you, trying to give the others as much room as you could.

     “This is pointless,” Vergil grumbled, moving his jaw in thought, pouting ever-so-slightly.

     “No,” Dante smiled, “This is comfortable,” he flopped onto you, laying flat across your body

     You laughed and placed an arm around Dante’s shoulders, holding your brother close.

     Eventually, Vergil broke. With a heavy sigh, he hung his coat on the stair railing. He laid down beside you, his back facing you, to which you grabbed him and pulled him close.

     Nero shook his head, “Nope, sorry, I’m gonna pass.”

     “You sure?” Dante looked up at him, very obviously half-awake.

     “Yeah. I’m sure alright,” with that, the young hunter turned off the shop lights, “I’ll see you all in the morning,” he stood with mouth agape before closing it with a shake and going up the stairs. 

     A few hours passed. You were feeling tired, at least, you think you were feeling tired; it had been so long since you’d slept that you weren’t sure if that’s what it was. Both twins were fast asleep and Vergil had turned to face you in his sleep, grabbing onto you tightly. 

     A deep bittersweet melancholic happiness tugged at your heart. Deep inside, you feared that this was all an elaborate nightmare and that, soon, this would all disappear; making you lose your family once again.

     Creaking from the staircase pulled you from your thoughts. Before you could react, you saw Nero standing over you.

     “Hey,” his voice was quiet and meek, “I uh…”

     You removed your hand from Dante and patted the empty space beside you, which Nero immediately laid in. 

     Another hour passed and all three of the white-haired men were asleep. Nero’s actions echoed that of his father’s; starting with facing away from you and now he was gripping onto you as if he were going to be ripped away from you. Your eyes felt heavy and you were fighting the urge to close them, but you couldn’t help it. The loud purring from your family and the warm bundle that the group of fire devils created was enough to push you over the edge into a deep sleep.

     The sound of a phone ringing woke you up, slowly blinking awake. A groan left your lips as you felt something (or rather someone) heavy laying on you. 

     Dante was still on top of your chest but he felt heavier for some reason. He felt much taller too. Both Vergil and Nero were still latched onto you, however, they’d settled to grab your arms instead of your chest. They, too, felt much heavier and larger.

     An unexpected loud voice rang through one of your ears, “What on Earth?” The eldest shot upright, “You..!”

     “Mmm, Verge,” Dante mumbled, his warm cheek was placed against your chest and he had drooled in his sleep, “What are you shouting for?”

     “Dante, open your eyes.”

     When the red devil did, he pushed up and stared down at you with wide eyes. 

     Quickly, he stood up and grabbed a free blanket, “Here, wrap yourself in this before the kid wakes up.”

     Confused, you tried to pull your arm free, only to have Nero grip you tighter. 

     “Here,” Dante leaned back down and wrapped your body in the cloth. 

     That’s when you realized what had happened. Your skin was no longer covered in scales --your teeth were no longer too large for your mouth --your hands were no longer clawed.

     No longer trapped in your state of survival.

     You were what you once were all those years ago.

     Human. 

ENDING NOTES: Poems quoted:  ❥The Book of Urizen; Chapter II, IX, Preludium: William Blake ❥Infant Joy: William Blake ❥The Little Boy Lost: William Blake--changed slightly; replaced “boy” with child. ➖➖➖ I hope y’all enjoyed this. It took me SOOOO long to finish this. Not sure if I’ll do something like this again, I couldn’t switch between writing this and then writing some “x reader” stuff (because it would bleed into one or the other.).  Please let me know if y’all liked this or not! I’d love to hear feedback!  Thanks again for the request and I hope everyone has a great day/night! :))))

Want to see more like this? Check out the book on AO3 or check out the Masterlist for Tumblr!

THERE IS ALSO ART THAT GOES WITH THIS BUT I AM TOO FUCKING TIRED TO DEAL WITH THAT RN LMAO IT IS SO LATE AND I HAVE SPENT SO LONG ON THIS (Not that I'm complaining, I enjoyed writing this; it just took so damn long lmao)

If anyone is interested, there is a chapter on my AO3 of all the scrapped content from this fic. As you could/can probably tell, there was so much stuff I wanted to put in this and just either didn't because of time or scrapped because it became too overly saturated with the stuff. Please give it a read, it actually explains some stuff that I left in (like the ceiling paintings for example).

#devil may cry #vergil #devil may cry 5 #vergil devil may cry #dmc #devil may cry vergil #devil may cry dante #devil may cry oneshot #oneshot #dante #devil may cry nero #nero devil may cry #dante devil may cry #fan fiction #reposted from my AO3 #reader and Dante #reader and Vergil #reader and Nero #reader insert #G/N redaer #male reader #female reader #reader is Dante and Vergil's little sibling #Sparda #Sparda devil may cry #devil may cry Sparda #Eva devil may cry #devil may cry Eva #angst #fluff

[rexxdjarin]

I love your writing and thots 🥵

One bed trope or needing to fake date on a mission with Din, Boba or any clone and reader? Spicy or not but maybe enemies to lovers? 🥺

If you’ve already written similar, please let me know I neeeeeed to check it out!!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Bby thank you so much 🥺💙 it means a lot to me when people compliment my work and my writing. It truly goes a long way.

Be sure to check out my masterlist in my bio for all the work I’ve written !!! I’m going to write a clone bby I’ve surprisingly never written for before 😉

“I cannot believe there was only one bed left.” You huffed in annoyance, laying on the last makeshift cot on the far side of base camp. You weren’t originally supposed to be on this mission so it was technically on you. It wasn’t Kix’s fault that Skywalker demanded he tend to an off the book injury he had caused himself.

You were the only available medic for the scout squad made up of Jesse, Tup and, the bane of your existence, Fives. The devilishly handsome, boisterous and extraverted arc trooper of the bunch.

“C’mon, gorgeous…I’m not that bad of a bunk mate.” Fives argued from the other side of the stack of pillows wedged between you to make a sizable enough division.

“Of the three of you, you are the loudest one, Fives. So help me…if you snore for even 5 seconds, I’m suffocating you with these pillows.” You rolled your eyes, pulling your portion of the blankets over your side.

Fives laughed from right beside you and slowly crept his foot over to kick your calf muscle. “Oh please, you’re the one taking all the blankets. You’re lucky you make me laugh so much or I’d be mad at you.”

You sighed and shoved a pillow down on top of him starting an avalanche of shitty republic supplied sleeping materials on top of him. “Warm enough, now, Fives?” You giggled.

“Nope.” He declared muffled beneath all the layers. “This planet gets cold at night, you know. Protocol is that we sleep close together to share body heat under the standard issue shit we’re given.”

Unfortunately for myself, he was right. That was technically the right thing to do in a situation like this. But doing so would be very uhm- compromising for you. Because despite your best efforts and medic’s intuition and logic, you were unfathomably attracted to the clever fucking arc trooper.

And not knowing what it was about him that made you want him so bad made you unreasonably angry. Maybe it was that focused, driven, raw talent of his. His ability to motivate anyone. The strength of his compassion for other lifeforms and for his work. His happy go lucky, constantly joking attitude despite the world of pain and struggle they endured everyday. He was just perfect. And you hated it.

He was naturally good at everything. And you weren’t. You worked twice as hard as everyone and still you struggled. You were a gifted medic, probably the best available behind their brother, but only because you’d worked yourself to the bone to get there. He was everything you wished you could be naturally and he didn’t even know it. Didn’t know the power he had or how it effected you. He was painfully oblivious.

He flirted with everyone and everything. Everyone was gorgeous to him and he made it a point of telling them so. But because you knew him so well, whenever he called you that it just didn’t feel special or unique to you. You had a hard time believing he meant it for you. Even as badly as you wished he did.

But it was cold. You didn’t want either of you to freeze. You groaned, “fine. come here.” You shifted the pillows and felt him scoot in behind you. He was warm. Firm and strong in all the right ways. The scent of him made your eyes cross. It was intoxicating just like everything else about him. The same magnetic, alluring energy he had seemed to grace every single thing about him.

“Ahhh.” He sighed in relief, “finally. Thank you. My teeth were chattering.” Which had to be a fucking lie. He seemed perfectly toasty to you. “Now if you wanted to get into bed with me…all you had to do was ask.” He joked.

“Fives!” You shouted, trying desperately to hide just how much that comment sent chills down your spine. Because if he really meant that then…well…you might have a chance. Maybe it wasn’t all in your head. “Don’t..don’t say that.”

“Say what?” He feigned ignorance, resting his head on his pillow and folding his arms across his chest.

“Don’t say things you don’t mean. Not even as a joke.” You muttered, the sternness you practiced in your head coming out more like a whisper.

He sat himself up on one elbow and cocked his head at me, clearly taken aback. “Who said I was joking?”

You gulped. This couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t happening. “Fives…you always say nice things like that to everyone. You can’t always mean it.”

“Absolutely I do.” He said sounding offended. “I feel like people should be told when they look nice or have a good vibe or whatever. Is that a crime?”

You took a deep breath before finding the strength to turn around and face him so closely. “You say it to me and don’t mean it all the time.”

He scoffed, his jaw quirking as he looked up at every planet shining in the sky above you. “Cyar’ika…I especially mean it when I’m talking to you.” He raised his hand to nervously run his fingers through his hair. “I’d been wondering why it’s taken you so long to notice, actually.” He looked up at you like a sad kicked tooka and bite his lower lip, maybe for the first time realizing he was struggling to say what he really meant. “I’m sorry if that wasn’t clear.”

You blinked probably five hundred times, absorbing the shock of him revealing he did actually find you attractive. His feelings did match yours. “So…” you stuttered, trying desperately to find the right words to say. “S-so you did want to share a bed with me.” You smirked at him.

He fished around in his pocket before pulling out the straw he drew earlier that he’d very obviously broken in half. “Oh yeah. I broke this in pieces just to make sure.” He laughed, “pretty low. I know. I thought you didn’t like me so I dunno. I guess I thought this was the best way to get you to talk to me.”

The way the moonlight was bouncing across his face, the way the shadows made him seem even more brooding and intense than usual. He looked so…pretty. You just wanted to…

And before you knew it, you were leaning in and pressing your lips to his. It was slow and sweet, like you both had been wanting to enjoy it for some time. His hand cupped your cheek and he pulled you closer, deepening the kiss and letting your tongue slip inside to meet his.

You pulled away slowly, leaving him in a confused yet completely thrilled haze. “Go to sleep, Fives. We’ll talk in the morning.” You smiled like an idiot as you turned over and felt his protective arm curl around your waist to tuck you into him. After all, you did have to keep warm.

#arc trooper fives x you #arc trooper fives x reader #arc trooper fives drabble #asks and thots

[kdipshit]

Jesus motherfucking Christ ;

I would say I’m dependant on marijuana as my emotional regulation medication, so being off it, even for a day, I have seen that it drives me absolutely insane. Am I trying to ignore that feeling? I mean I fucking guess, the feeling when I’m off weed, is so unbearable, I must be choosing to run from the feeling. I have to be, other wise why else does that same sickening, disturbing anxious feeling come up. I’m finding it hard to sit with myself during these times, I’m usually crying, which is good, but my entire body shakes, my teeth chatter, emotional feelings become more real than physical touch, my emotional feelings are stronger than my senses.

Im not sure how long its going to take myself to pull it on up sober. I feel lost, but I know where to go. For the greatest time, I know where to go. Its a troublesome journey, like wizard of oz, I just gotta feel what I feel. I have so much faith that I will be alright. I’ve been writing with the door open, if you know what I mean, raw words, raw thoughts.

My drug and alcohol councillor is so happy that I’ve started a blog, I don’t know why I need this to be out there. I guess my energy is needed whenever I am, so I find myself always on the right path. Even during the sad moments.

I’ve put aside an hour to just write, my body is telling me I need to chill, for some reason my legs have been hurting for the past 2 days making it a massive effort just to walk, it has to be a sign, so I’ve been taking a rest and kind of laying down not really feeling productive, even tho I do everything I need to do throughout the day, I still feel like I’m stuck sometimes. I kind of have to trust that I will be okay, which I have recently learned so I’m not trippin. I just get scared about bad feelings or bad energies never going away. Again it’s pointing me to the fact that it’s my attachment to the feeling that isint letting me let it go. Just let go. Fuck I wish it was that easy. I’m sure it is lmao, but I might have a few blockages in my way still. I’m not afraid I’m just a little tired and need a break.

I can see my dark shadow lingering, behind the smoky mirror, behind the doors, behind my eyes.

Sometimes I feel like im an alien and none of this works for me. Am I really human? I dunno man. I guess not, it’s just a label right? I just am. Forget about language for a minute, forget about labels, attachments, thoughts and feelings, everything is still here without it all. That’s where I am. Accepting reality for what it is can get tricky when you experience psychosis. Never the less, it’s still there, it’s always there, the present, the now, it’s all that’s there.

Some days I’m just meant to be doing nothing but healing myself, with my same thing that wrecked me. Isint it ironic, of course if your brain can make u suicilly it can do the opposite. Just have to teach yourself.

Boredom is such a strong emotion, it’s stronger than most anyways, I can’t really be in my body when I’m bored, I don’t like the feeling, maybe boredom is a trigger lol. I guess I don’t like it bc I think I don’t, lol.

#blogging #new blog #mental health #actually bipolar #actually borderline #mental instability #actually bpd #original post #original writing

[getouswh0re]

TOKYO REVENGERS REACTIONS:

❤︎ forever is a long time, but I won’t mind spending it by your side ❤︎

an; how Tokyo Revengers characters realise they have fallen in love with you; warnings: none, slight angst, fluff, slight manga spoilers

characters; mikey, draken, chifuyu, baji

For as long as you could reminisce, MIKEY and you have been thick as thieves, doing all sorts of shenanigans (with most of them being his idea of course) and enjoying the time of your youth together. How you wish good times could stay like this forever; just the two of you running through the labyrinth of streets without having a single worry about what the future has to offer, the thrumming of footsteps echoing against the asphalt pavements as chime-like chortles reverberate in remnants of the dwindling sunset.

The two of you have been through ups and downs throughout the years, yet you and him would always seek for solace in each other’s company. The one incident, though, which brought both of your hearts closer than ever — was Emma’s passing. In the dingy bedroom, it was the first time you saw Mikey’s walls collapsing as he leaned into your chest, raw cries laced with heart-wrenching pain reverberating through the solemn midnight air. It broke your heart to witness the tough blonde in such a state of despair; he had lost way too many people already, and the light that was long lost in his hollow eyes now bore semblance to an impenetrable void — devoid of life, and the will to live.

“Hey, y/n ...” A meek croak cut through the lingering silence. “What does it feel like to be left alone ... before you get to realise all of the people you’ve loved is gone?”

Hearing that, your eyes were glassed with a layer of tears that was threatening to overflow. Nonetheless, you held it back, leaning forward as you pulled the blonde into your arms and gave him a tender hug.

“I know how it feels, Mikey ... it’s painful, you’re left alone, you want the agony to stop ... but you’ll not be shouldering this on your own. I’m here for you ... when you need me, okay? So please ... don’t bottle up all of these feelings by yourself. We’ll share the suffering and live on. Promise?”

People came and go in his life, yet the only one who stayed with Sano Manjiro until the very end was none other than you — his first love.

DRAKEN’S instincts have always been spot-on, and this is the same just like any other time — the only thing special is you being in the picture. From the day you become acquainted with the gang’s vice commander, Ryuguji finds himself gravitating bit by bit towards you. He would look forward to seeing you at every meeting, feeling his heart sink whenever you can’t hang out with him, Mikey and the others; initially the blonde only thinks that it is nothing more than a measly feeling — friends would look forward to hanging out with each other, right?

But it is soon proven to be wrong when an unintentional comment from him reveals his feelings towards you to everyone.

“Where is y/n? It feels a bit different today —“

As if everything is in slow motion, his friends swivel their heads around — stares burning into the back of his skull with their jaws dropped.

“Dude, you’re totally into y/n huh.”

Oh shit.

Before the blonde realises, everyone starts to bombard him with questions; not that they aren’t happy for him who finally manages to find the one, but rather — how do polar opposites like you and Ryuguji attract one another.

“Dude, you’ve totally found the right one!”

“Man I feel jealous that you have your eyes on them first! I would’ve shoot my shot if I were you.”

“If you don’t man up and confess, don’t blame me for stealing y/n off their feet —“

“Hold on!” A yell from him is all it takes to make the gang quiet. “How do you guys know it’s love? I mean it can be anything —“

“Just how dense can you be, idiot?” The others chime in unison.

Someone save him, boy is hopeless sometimes.

To pinpoint how he has fallen in love with you would be immensely difficult for CHIFUYU, there are way too many moments where he just finds himself diving headfirst into love! But if he has to choose the exact instant which kindled the flames of adoration, it would be every little bits about you which make him lovestruck.

He loves how your gaze softens at the sight of pets running around every time you come and visit him at the pet store he works at, cooing over how endearing you look as your eyes crinkle when kids wave to you on the streets, admiring your patience and kindness towards everyone you meet — the list goes on and on. Falling in love with you (to him) feels like a typical romance troupe which he has read ad nauseam in shoujo mangas, yet experiencing it firsthand is definitely a first for him.

And of all the attributes he loves about you, the one which makes Chifuyu ascertain his feelings is how you could see the good in people whom you hold dear to your heart — him included.

The sky fades into a myriad of pomegranate pink and indigo as the two of you hang out at the park after the gang meeting has ended, each of you eating an ice cream. With you finishing yours first, you turn over to look at the blonde, only to discover that he has some smudged on his cheeks. Seeing this reminds you of your childhood years together where Chifuyu also had ice cream smeared over his face — the nostalgia of it making giggles roll off your tongue, earning a perplexed look from the vice captain of the first division.

“What are you laughing at y/n??” It only make you laugh harder as his whining reaches your ears.

“Nothing! It just reminds me of how we used to hang out at the same spot when we were younger, also eating ice cream whilst watching the sunset. You also had ice cream all over your face back then. I can still remember that cute ass look on your face ~”

“Come on, it’s in the past! Stop mentioning it y/n, I’m going to die from embarrassment before long. You better attend my funeral —“

“Cute and dramatic as ever Fuyu.” You give him a tap on the nose. “But you know what? I feel so glad that fate brought me to this adorable kid with ice cream all over his face back in the days, and I’m grateful for having you in my life Chifuyu.”

Poor boy almost suffers from a heart attack.

BAJI adores your duality; whether it is watching you coo over street cats or casually firing comebacks at his occasionally snarky remarks, he embraces both sides of your personality, thinking it is what makes you unique to him. Other than that, the teen finds himself drawn towards you for another reason. Being the motherly figure of Baji and his friends, you would always make sure they take care of themselves, chiding them gently whenever they neglect their health; it is something in which he values a lot — he might be known as one of the toughest fighters in the gang, but Baji is also a teenager at heart.

Whenever he needs to vent, you would be there to lend an ear; every time he falls ill, you would rush to his house with warm chicken soup and all the necessary medications to take care of him until he feels better (despite him telling you that he is capable of taking care of himself, which he isn’t). Occasionally Baji would show up outside your bedroom window bartered and bruised, and you would put aside the things you are doing at that moment to dress his wounds, giving him a nag on how he should prioritise his safety over anything else.

You are like a pseudo parental figure to Baji — his solace and anchor whenever life doesn’t go as what he expects; he could never ask for more from you, but deep down — the teen knows that people would eventually drift apart someday.

And a part of him wished this would last forever, that he could let down his walls and be the middle school Baji that yearns to be taken care of by nobody other than you.

The longer he’s spent time around you, the more the queer sensation in his gut stirs. Baji could feel his heartbeat becoming frenzied each time he is hanging out with you, and his usual confident facade would drop as the teen stutters over words. And being rather dense at the beginning, nothing dawned upon him until Mikey and the rest almost have to withhold the urge of bonking Baji in the head for not realising how he’s fallen head over heels for you, did he realise all of this is love after all.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #sano manjiro #sano manjiro x reader #mikey tokyo revengers #mikey x reader #ryuguji ken #ryuguji ken x reader #reader insert #chifuyu matsuno #chifuyu matsuno x reader #x reader #baji keisuke #baji keisuke x reader #tokyo revengers oneshots #tokyo revengers imagines #tokyo revengers drabbles #tokyo revengers fluff #tokyo revengers scenarios

[hubbie22]

Here is an ask well half an ask from the lovely @meddowscrl please don’t hate me 🥺 I just can’t do happy endings. I tried, I just couldn’t. I can only do angst. I like to suffer ~nervous laughter intensified~ Also, please excuse the writing, I have a respiratory infection and am heavily medicated.

You were happy, weren’t you?

“I want a divorce.”

You stare at him, you had only asked if he wanted to change the drapes. And the answer, turned your world upside down. He had been your boyfriend since 1968, your husband since 1972 and yet with one sentence he was now nothing.

“The drapes, I just wanted to change the drapes.” You mutter out like a hapless child.

“We haven’t been good for months.” He looks at you, his eyes hidden behind sunglasses.

“We haven’t?” Since when haven’t you two been good? Since when haven’t you two shared one brain cell? That was news to you.

Roger stands firms, flicking his long hair back. “No, Y/N.” He sighs, “We haven’t been us for months.”

“Is there someone else?” You look at him, searching for something. “You promised me. You promised me.” The words come out like a chant or mantra, what you held onto when he was on the road. A promise from another lifetime ago.

He sighs, as if he wants to tell you the truth. But he looks at you, and he sees the brokenness he caused. And he can’t bare to make it worse. So, he lies.

“No.”

You walk past him, and he grabs your hand and you think for a moment he will tell you he change his mind. But he hasn’t, and you tear yourself away from him trudging up the staircase.

“Y/N, this has been a long time coming. I’m not happy…. I’m not happy with you anymore.”

“A long time coming for who?” You can’t even look at him while you are packing your things. Most of which, he bought you. So, you only bring what you can into this relationship with yourself. “For you? Because I was happy.” There are tears streaming down your face, like a waterfall, “And I thought we were happy, it’s news to me that we aren’t. And that’s we haven’t been for sometime. Or maybe that you haven’t been.”

You sit across from him in a London high-rise, a wood table between you two and armed with a divorce lawyer. It happened fast, or maybe you were out of it the last few months.

You looked over at Roger, his hair was shorter the last time you saw him.

He stopped by your new apartment to drop off things you left, you could remember his shocked face when you open the door. You heard rustling outside and curiously you opened the door to see Roger crouched down, putting a box by your door. Blue eyes meet yours, and it was like time hadn’t passed. And maybe that’s why you treated it that way, maybe that’s why you went with the old routine. And you wonder if it was the gleam in his eyes, that let you believe that there was something to hold onto; that hope remained.

“Just some bits and bobs of yours.” Roger said, fumbling his keys in his hand.

“Thanks, Rog.” You can’t move from the door frame, the gaze y’all shared unbroken. Years of memories dancing between tha gaze. The squeal of the kettle you put on earlier makes the both of you jump.

“Cuppa? I still have your favorite biscuits.” You couldn’t stop yourself from buying them. It was just normal. And sometimes normal in this new word you didn’t know, was what you needed to sleep at night.

“Really?!” His blue eyes light up, and you motion for him to come in. Staying for tea was a dangerous thing, an old and easy routine. It was weird being so comfortable with someone, who was leaving you behind. Funny how the more things change, the more they stay the same.

Maybe it was because of the easiness of it all, that you left yourself fall back into the comfort of it all. As of you two were old friends, not two lovers frayed at the seams. Because of that easiness, you let yourself entertain a thought that maybe you could save your marriage. Put back the broken pieces into something recognizable, but it wasn’t enough. The yearning, the reminiscing of old times through the stuff he brought to you somehow turned into fumbled kisses and clothes thrown around haphazardly. It was something you thought would change the course of where your life was going. Instead of reconciling, it turned into Roger sneaking out when he thought you were asleep. It turned into your lawyer, letting you know Roger wanted you to have more than you asked for. It turned into more resentment and hurt from you, how he could use you and then leave you. How could he so easily but all those years together aside? It turned into something that shouldn’t have happened. And it turned into something that would stay with you forever. A funny word forever, because forever never is forever.

“Sign this, and your divorced will be finalized. All assets obtained during the marriage have been split, due to Mr. Taylor’s wishes.” Your lawyer says looking at you, sliding the papers across, while Roger’s lawyer speaks, “You will be comfortable, and well off Y/N. My client has been more than generous. In fact, I’ve never seen a settlement this amicable from the side of the main breadwinner .”

You sign the papers without any words, you don’t even look at Roger. You realize as you sign on the dotted line, this will be the last time you will use the surname you used for years. Funny how something you thought would never change, would be stagnant in your life just fades away. You then pass the papers across the table back to Roger’s lawyer, you watch as the lawyer slides the papers over to Roger for his signature.

And when Roger takes the paper, you stop breathing you wonder if his mind will change at the eleventh hour. But, he signs it without any hesitation. It’s a fluent and flawless movement, very unlike Roger- really. Part of you breaks at that, it was like he didn’t care he was closing the door on years of his life. Closing the door on you.

You stand up, smoothing out your wide legged pant suit. After the divorce, you had dipped your toes back into the world of working for a living. Putting that masters degree in business to use, and now it was time to separate yourself from the last of the rock n roll lifestyle you loved. And you turn to walk away, high heels on the marble floor when someone grabs your wrist turning you around.

“Take care of yourself, Y/N.” Roger looks at you with concern in his blue eyes. And you wonder if it’s for the friend he was losing, and not the marriage he let go of so easily.

You look at him, “I will. Don’t forget to wear your glasses, we both know you are blind. Don’t forget to call your mum once in while, she misses you. And try not to get so angry at the boys, they mean well.”

“Even after everything I’ve done, you don’t hate me.” You spot something in his eyes, you can’t put a name too. An emotion that seems out of place, it was almost looked like guilt and forlorn.

“I told you a long time ago, I could never hate you. No matter how much, I may want too. I just can’t.”

“You are too good, Y/N. I’ve forgot to remind myself of that. Maybe that’s why…” he drifts off, “Even those daft band mates of mine agreed. Never let me forget it. But, Im sure they are out to drive me mad!” He says with a small smirk.

“With the drum sets you destroy, I doubt the plan to make you mad.” You make a small sound, something between a strangled “hmph” and snort in retort.

“Same old, Y/N.”

“By the way, I have something to-”

“Roggiee!” A voice like a bell cuts through the hushed words you tell him.

You both turn to see a girl, or really a woman bounding toward y’all. And you look toward Roger, and you see the look in his eyes. A look that used to be reserved for you. And it clicked, the guilty look etched in his eyes, not even moments ago. The guilty look he wore that night. The whole reason your world was being upended and ruined. It was for her.

The bitterness filled you up, the way he could so easily toss you aside. The look you threw at Roger was one of pure resentment and unbridled rage.

“You lied.” Your hushed words, that come out through clinched teeth drip with a malice.

He looks at you with wide eyes, as if he was trying to shelter you from the truth. And you see that damned look again. “Y/N, please. I just couldn’t tell you.”

But before you can answer, she comes up with a smile on her pink lips and a twinkle in her dark brown eyes. “You must be, Roggie’s lawyer! I’m Gwen.” She smiles at you. And her smile is sickly sweet, and almost innocent.

It makes you want to scream, to throw something, to do something other than what you are doing.

“I’m Y/N, actually.” You extend your hand to her. Her eyes go wide, and she looks at Roger, who goes to her side immediately.

“Y/N, please listen.” He hold onto her side, and the whiteness of his knuckles against the material of her dark dress don’t go unnoticed by you. “I didn’t mean to fall in love with her.”

Gwen chimes in, “We honestly tried to stay away from each other, we just couldn’t. We were drawn to each other.”

If you weren’t so bitter, hurt, and angry perhaps the romantic side of you would find that notion tragic. You had read about it in books, and always rooted for the star-crossed lovers. But, now you were the collateral damage, you were the woman scorned.

“When we decided that what we had was something, I couldn’t tell you. I couldn’t tell you that I was in love with someone else, when you were there from the start. I just didn’t want you to find out after I got back from tour-”

“He couldn’t see you broken like that.” Gwen finishes for him.

You can’t even begin to comprehend the information given, you were gobsmacked. You were completely barred raw, for everyone is this godforsaken lobby to see. And because of that, you selfishly did not want to see how genuinely happy he looked with someone else. Someone who wasn’t you. So, you used the words you knew would cut him to the bone. “So, you thought it was better to make me believe it was my fault you weren’t happy. That I was ignorantly living in one sided marital bliss, while you were falling in love with someone else? While you were planning to leave, I was planning for a life with you?” Your eyes are blazing, your face hot with rage, “You thought it was better to make me believe I was the problem? I can’t believe you! After everything I did for you? After putting my life on hold for you?! This is how you repay me? I deserved the truth, but you, the both of you took that from me.”

“I just-” He sighs, “I just wanted to be happy again, and when I’m with Gwen I’m happy. And I was going to tell you, I was going to tell you that day with the drapes. But, you then you uttered that damn promise. And what was I supposed to do? How could I break my best friend? I’ve always been the asshole to everyone, but you.”

“I love you.”

You look at Roger, his long blonde hair disheveled with bright blue eyes. “I love you too, you are my friend. My very best friend.” You bump your shoulder against his, and let out a giggle.

“I’m in love with you, Y/N.”

You stare at him wide eyed, “Oh.”

“I have been for sometime.”

“Rog, I love you too. But, that doesn’t mean I want to date you. I know how you are, you will grow bored of me and find someone else. And love is sweet, but it’s not your nature. I don’t think I have it in me to me hate you, or to lose you. Please don’t make me lose my best friend.”

“You don’t get it, Y/N.” He looks at you like you hung the moon, and you like it. You crave that look. “I don’t want anyone else, it’s you. And I think it’s always been, and always will be you.”

“You promise? You promise it’s only me forever?” You bite your lip and stick out your pinky finger, like you had done so many times growing up.

“I cross my heart and hope to die.” He says as he raises your intertwined pinkies up to kiss it.

“And in that moment, I was back in Truro laughing with a curly haired little girl, and then I was in uni with that same girl, who was my best friend, I saw that girl. And, I couldn’t do that to her.”

You look at him, your face cold as stone. “I’m still that girl, I haven’t changed. You have. And that’s okay, it’s okay the change that’s life.”

That is how it ends, with a look of heartbreak on your face as the elevator doors close on the sight before you. And when the doors open, and you are greeted by the sight of the lobby. You realize, you didn’t even tell him what you wanted too.

Would it change anything?

#roger taylor imagine #roger taylor x reader #queen imagines #roger taylor

[disasterfandoms]

Car Accident || A Jack Gibson Imagine

Anonymous requested: “ Could you write an imagine for jack Gibson whet he has to respond to a car accident you are in and you get badly hurt. He’s like freaking out bc it’s his girl but ends all cute/fluffy? “

A/N: hope you like it!

Tw: car accident, injuries, hospitals, IV, needle sticks, medicine, description of blood

It had been a calm shift. There had been minimal calls, only a few medical calls, but most of the shift had so far been cleaning the firehouse and making fun of each other. Travis, Vic, and Jack were all watching Forensic Files in the TV room as the others were milling around the kitchen, making dinner, when the call comes out.

“Engine 19, Aid Car 19,  4 car pile-up on Route 5 Northbound, exit 233″

They run to the trucks, and within minutes they’re on their way to the scene. Jack was excited, he had been itching for some action, a juicy call to make the time move faster so he can come home to you.

Jack loves you more than he thought he could love anyone. The way you dance in the kitchen when you’re cleaning, the way you lose yourself in a book, the look you give him when he says something that you couldn’t believe came from his mouth. As he was nearing the sight of the crash though, his heart dropped.

Your car was smashed between two others, the engine completely pancaked. A door was ripped off of the driver’s side, the passenger side was smashed against the guardrail. Jack could tell it was your car because of the sticker on the bumper, or what was left of your bumper. It was one he found for you when you two had taken a vacation to California for a week last year, and was the easiest way to find your car.

“Shit.” He heard Andy swear, but he didn’t respond, he couldn’t accept it, not yet. 

“Is that-”

“It’s Y/n’s car.” Jack said, interrupting Dean. You all quickly got out of the trucks, and rushed over to you. Dean and Travis stopped him from going over to you, he knows he can’t be involved because he’s too close to this. He didn’t stop trying though, they made him lean on the truck while Bishop and Vic looked you over.

“That’s Y/N, Miller. What if it was Sasha, or JJ? What if that was Grant, Travis?” He was yelling at them now, but they didn’t take it personally. They knew how much you meant to him. 

“Gibson, we get it, but I know you know why you can’t be over there right now. If you go over there, they’re going to be distracted and that takes away from Y/N being cared for. They’re the best at their jobs, you have to let them work,” Travis reassured him, and he finally complied until you were out of immediate harm’s way.

Vic put a c-collar around your neck, while Ben checked your airway, breath sounds, and your pulse. Vic got to work on an IV in your forearm to give you fluids, but it worries them that you haven’t gained consciousness yet. The rest of 19, minus Jack, Helped quickly and carefully get you out of the car and onto stretcher. As they were loading you onto the ambulance, Bishop gave the okay for Jack to ride with you. 

“Hey baby, I’m right here, okay? You’re going to be okay,” Jack tells you, although you don’t hear him, nor do you see the tears rolling down his face.

He lets Ben work, checking your vitals and assessing your injuries, and calls Grey-Sloan to give report. While he does all of this, he watches Jack gold your hand, occasionally brushing your hair away from your face, like he was completely lost into taking care of you.

Once you got to Grey-Sloan, they made Jack wait in the waiting room while Miranda, Amelia, Link and Owen started working to take care of you. Ben and Vic sat with Jack, but he couldn’t sit still. He was pacing back and forth, and they knew he wouldn’t be able to relax until he knew you were okay.

They eventually had to leave for another medical call, but Bishop let Miller go sit with him in just in case. They waited at least another hour before Bailey came out with an update.

“Y/N is going to be fine. They had a skull fracture, but there doesn’t seem to be any lasting brain damage. They do have a grade 2 concussion, and a broken nose from their head hitting the steering wheel. They have several broken ribs, one of which punctured a lung. Pierce repaired it, and they have a chest tube in to drain any excess fluid. You can go see them if you’d like,” she finished explaining, and when Jack nodded she lead him to see you.

You were just waking up from surgery, and god your head was pounding. The nurse came in a few minutes ago to give you your pain medicine, so the pain in your side had started to subside. Jack came into your room, and you can tell he had been crying. His eyes were red, his hair was a mess, and he was still in his uniform.

“Hi love,” you offered and tried to smile, but just about everything hurts your head at the moment. He smiled lightly, then sat in the chair next to your bed and grabbed your hand.

“I thought I lost you. You can never do that again. Understood?” He said roughly, his throat was raw from crying, but he needed to make sure you knew just how much all this scared him.

“I love you too, Jack. And this wasn’t my fault, by the way. Those two idiots in front of me gave me no warning that they were going to crash.” you said lightly, eliciting a giggle from Jack as he rubbed his eyes.

“Alright smartass, glad to see you’re back to your normal self,” he laughed, you always knew how to cheer him up, even when it’s pretty morbid.

You sent him away to go finish his shift, promising him if anything happened the hospital staff would call him. He would come back in the morning, and wouldn’t leave until you were ready to leave a few nights later.

#jack gibson #jack gibson x reader #station 19 #maya bishop #ben warren #travis montgomery #dean miller #vic hughes #owen hunt #miranda bailey #grey-sloan memorial #injuries #station 19 imagines #jack gibson imagines #andy herrera

[whatanoof]

Battling Death Itself

Anon I am so sorry that this took so long. Stuff happens, but it's still frustrating to not know if someone is ignoring your ask, if tumblr ate it, or if(like in this case) requests are just taking abnormally long. But here we go, hope you're ready for the angsty angst:(

gif credit to @badbatch

Rating: Teen

Pairing: Cal Kestis x Reader

Word Count: ~3.5k

Warnings: angst, injury, blood, swearing, death omen-like stuff, creepy dream, fluff

Summary: As a medic, you’re used to battling bleeds, cuts, burns, etc. You’re used to patients who are willing to heal, not one reckless Jedi Padawan who is ready to throw everything away to accomplish his mission.

A/N: A huge thank you to my friend @marvelassassin221b for the help with this prompt when I got stuck. You da best, and never forget it

One cannot go through a war and come out unchanged. You can pretend that the terror, violence, anger, anxiety, and selfish instinct didn’t affect you. You can gaslight and fool yourself until the bantha come home, but no one, not even the smallest civilian child, walks away without it burning into their minds like a brand of survival that will cost some of your humanity.

When you dream, you dream of a pile of lightsabers. There must be hundreds, maybe thousands, piled high enough that you cannot make out the ground from your position at the peak of the mountain. They clink and jangle under your feet, like a death rattle that refuses to leave you alone.

You want to leave. You have to leave, you can feel the spirits of the fallen Jedi Order hovering over your head, gazing down at you in disapproval everytime you disrespect their revered weapons. You take a step off of the peak.

A rending screech echoes into the death filled air, and the metal handles collapse under your feet, sliding down the side of the mountain like an avalanche and taking you with it. The sabers pile over your head, blocking out the already dim light.

Have to leave. Have to fight. So you thrash furiously, clawing at the tomb encapsulating your living body among the dead. Somehow, you find the surface. You break through the pile with a gasp, inhaling air into your starved lungs, hands pawing at the moving surface to keep you afloat in the raw desperation of survival instinct.

A weathered lightsaber is clenched in your hand, double bladed and beaten up. With a shaking hand, you press the button to activate the blade. The blue blade slices through the air with a throaty thrum and through the reality of your dream, dropping you into the darkness. You hit the ground with a grunt, somehow not impaling yourself on the lightsaber even as you stare in awestruck horror. Because you recognize the blade and handle.

A heavy hand lands on your shoulder, and you whirl with a gasp. A tall figure stands behind you, a Lasat male with kind eyes and clad in robes belonging to a Jedi. He holds a hand out to you, “That doesn’t belong to the living world.”

---

The crackle of the comm yanks you out of your fitful doze, but as you strain to listen from your position in the sitting area, no words come through the white noise. You sit up and look into the cockpit. Cere is typing furiously with eyes glued to frequency readings in front of her.

Seconds later the array in front of Greez begins to beep and the Latero leans forward to study the sensor map display. A tiny ship lit in red dances through the grid. Greez grabs the holo and enlarges it, examining the lines of the ship carefully.

“Cere--”

“Greez--”

The two stop and look at each other before Cere takes precedence, “I’ve only seen these kinds of frequencies from one kind of occupation.”

Greez nods, “I recognize the ship. It’s Haxion Brood.”

You stand and approach his chair, “Axiom what?”

Greez replies, arms darting across the controls with ease as he manipulates the energy to further analyze the readings from the environment. “The Haxion Brood, kid. Biggest smuggling and gambling ring in the Outer Rim.” He turns his head to address Cere. “I can decode their transmissions. Transfer the readings to my screen.”

Cere hits a few buttons and Greez pulls a headset over his ears. The air in the room is so thick that you could cut it with a vibroblade, until Greez speaks, “We have to go. Cere, set a course for these star coordinates.” Cere takes a single look at the symbols and nods before heading to the navigation map.

Your brow scrunches, “How do you understand their code?”

Greez waves your question off, “Not important. Point is, I can, and I know where we have to go.”

Everything is moving far too fast for you to understand. “And where is that?”

Greez barks out a sharp laugh, “Officially? Nowhere.” One arm distracts itself from the preflight check to dissolve the coordinates from the holo projector. “Unofficially? Ordo Eris.”

The Mantis lurches as it takes off and you stumble, “Wait, we have to wait for Cal to get back!”

Cere speaks from her position at the map, “He’s not coming back. We’re going to get him.”

‘Why would you need to go to Ord--’ You feel the blood drain from your face with the realization. What did the dream mean? A grim understanding filters into the processed air so that no words are needed.

“Get your kit ready. We’re going to need it.”

---

“Strap in, kid!”

Even with all of your preparation for the moment of contact, you’re still not ready for the awful screeching and rending of metal that echoes through the hull as it contacts the floor of the arena. Above the chaos and noise, you hear Greez curse. The harness digs painfully into your skin, but it keeps you in your seat long enough for the Mantis to jolt to a stop. The door opens, and Cal stumbles on board, lightsaber glowing in his hand while the other clutches his side. BD-1 clings to his shirt, beeping and chirping as it hangs on for dear life.

“Go go go!” Cal collapses against the wall, gasping for air. BD screeches and jumps onto the floor, gazing up at Cal and blipping while glancing at you periodically. You can’t tear your eyes away from the lightsaber, which has slipped to the ground in the frenzy. That doesn’t belong in the living world.

Greez hasn’t stopped swearing colorfully in at least five different languages excluding Basic, but it all fades to the background as you fumble to release your harness. “Cal!”

It’s not releasing, why isn’t it releasin--

The mechanism clicks and you’re out of your seat before the Mantis is fully off the ground. You reach Cal right as he begins to slip, “Whoa, careful there.”

Damn he’s heavy. You lower him to the ground, supporting his head on your lap. He chuckles breathlessly with eyes half-closed, “Why should I try to be careful when I have you?”

You laugh shakily, “I can’t be with you all of the time.” BD-1 bobs its head in agreement, dragging your med bag within reach with one foot.

Greez calls back, “Hang on, making the jump now!”

You grab a support bar and hunch over Cal. BD hops into your lap, and you wrap your other arm around the little droid to help hold it steady against you until the ship stops shaking around you and the peaceful quiet of hyperspace fills the hull. You allow yourself to breathe as the asteroid fades into the distance out the viewport. For now, the world will hold together.

---

By the time Cere comes back to check on you, you’ve maneuvered Cal into an upright position propped against the wall.

“Hey.” She sounds tired, stressed, strung tight like a bow string that’s about to snap. “Greez set course for Kashyyyk. We can lay low there, the Rebels have all but driven out the rest of the Imperials.”

You nod in acknowledgement. Cal is silent beside you. BD-1 boops its agreement.

She continues, “That rescue tore up the Mantis a bit. Overworked the thrusters and damaged internal regulating software, so Greez and I are going down to run diagnostics and see what we can repair en route. BD.” The little droid chirps. “Gonna need your help with the electrical portion.” BD-1 bobs its head and scampers over to her, and Cere puts a hand on the floor so that the droid can climb her shirt to her shoulder. She straightens, and regards the two of you, “All good here?”

You nod. “This guy needs a little patching up too.”

Cal gives a halfhearted wave and grin from his position on the floor, “Can confirm.”

Cere chuckles, “Alright then. Comm if you need anything. And be responsible.”

“I’m always responsible.” Cal protests. Cere doesn’t respond to him, opting instead to glance at you with an amused resignation in her eyes. She turns and leaves with BD, who chirps a goodbye as they vanish through the trapdoor that leads to the engine room.

You sigh and turn back to Cal, “I don’t even know where to start. Here.” You tug his poncho to get him to sit up.

“Careful. There’s acid.”

You yank your hand back with a hiss, shaking it off as you study the cloth. He’s right, there’s discoloration around his abdomen and the poncho is smoking, something that you missed in the chaos of landing and taking off from Ordo Eris. Upon closer examination, the acid had eaten through the poncho and soaked into the shirt below. Luckily, none touched your skin, but more unluckily, Cal has been wearing his shirt for far too long to be healthy.

“Take it off.” You lift the edge of his shirt to help him pull it over his head.

He grunts as the fabric lifts, revealing reddened and irritated skin that you begin to put healing balm on, “If you wanted me shirtless, all you had to do was ask.”

Blood rushes to your face even as you send an unimpressed look his way. He’s grinning, a smug and infuriating grin that lets you know that he knows that he got to you. You spread more of the medicine onto his skin, “You’re surprisingly chatty for someone who almost died.”

He stretches his arms, painfully attractive with how his chest and arms flex and his face scrunches and his hair--

You blink, abandoning the train of thought and finishing your work. You cap the medicine and return it to your bag. “Let me check your leg.” He sends you a look, a frustrated look that is so unique to Cal that it makes you chuckle. “I saw you limp in here, don’t give me that face.”

He groans, “I’m fine. It got me in the door, didn’t it?”

You roll your eyes. Typical. “Take them off.”

“Is this a strip game or something?” He’s… flirting with you?

“Do it.”

You did not think that this is how you would be getting Cal Kestis pantless in front of you for the first time. You’d imagined that you would be more excited with every inch of skin exposed, that your heart would race and the blood would rush to your face and your… yeah.

But instead, your stomach drops with every bruise that is revealed, the lump in your throat grows when you hear him suck a breath through gritted teeth when the cloth rubs over sensitive skin. By the time he’s pulled the pants around his ankles, your jaw is clenched hard enough to hurt. There’s a gash the length of your hand slicing across his skin. Although it’s gratefully shallow and mostly clotted, it's ugly enough to garner a double take and a long stare as you consider your options. When you speak, it’s a barely breathed whisper.

“Damn it Cal.”

He laughs, but you can hear the pained grunt that he tries to hide when he shifts, “I didn’t think it was that bad.”

“When did you do this to your leg?” You yank a bacta bag out.

He hisses as you disinfect the area, “Uh, a little after I found BD. Right before I went into the arena.”

You stop cold and stare at him, “You fought on this?”

“Well what else was I supposed to do? Roll over and die?”

You sputter, “No, but I-- no.”

He raises an eyebrow at you, a single, infuriatingly sassy, red eyebrow and lays back to allow you to apply the bacta infusion.

“How’s it going in here?” Cere chooses that exact moment to walk in, and you suppose you should be grateful that she didn’t witness the petty argument.

You shoot a look at Cal, but he’s refusing to meet your eyes. So kriffing immature. You respond to Cere, “Good. Could be better.”

She nods once, “We received a transmission from the rebel. Tarfull is willing to meet you, Cal. There are contacts on Kashyyyk that will direct you to him.”

Cal’s face is drawn and serious, aging him ten years as he considers her words. “Tell them I’ll be there. How long until we reach Kashyyyk?”

“An hour. Enough time to finish the inflight electrical repairs, so BD will be available to go with you.”

“I’ll be ready.” What? Did you just hear him correctly?

You wait until Cere leaves the room before you whirl on Cal, “Are you crazy?”

“What?”

But you’re not listening anymore, “No, you’re definitely crazy, or I’m going crazy, because I just heard you tell Cere that you would be ready to plunge into the wilderness while you’re half dead.” A pile of lightsabers.

“It’s a cut, I’m hardly half de--”

“Okay, a cut. A cut that could get infected, or could start bleeding again, or could slow you down. It won’t be such an easy fix next time if you go out like this.”

He says your name sharply, “It’s my job to go and get that holocron.”

You cross your arms over your chest tightly, hugging close enough in hopes that you can calm your pounding heart, “And it’s my job to keep you alive.”

“The longer we wait, the more danger Tarfull is in. The Rebels can’t stay in one place forever.” He pushes off of the wall, aiming to propel himself off of the ground and stand, but you catch him with a firm hand in the center of his chest.

“You need rest. Bacta might be a miracle of modern medicine, but it can’t work in an hour.” A death rattle that refuses to leave you alone.

He says your name, so seriously and rigidly that you stop and look at him, “Let me get up. I need to go.”

“No!” Your fingers twitch over the needle. “Cal Kestis. You stay right there, or I swear to the Maker I will sedate you!” Fallen Jedi hovering over you.

“This isn’t a matter of my own well being anymore, our mission is on the line!” He pushes your hand away and sits up. “This is for those children out there, so that the Sisters don’t get to them, so that they can have normal lives.”

“Don’t you fucking put that on me Cal, I know what is at risk. I know that you are the only stars forsaken Jedi in this Maker damned galaxy who can help those children, but what use are you to them if you’re dead?!” Lightsabers rattling over your head, trapping the living amongst the dea--

“It doesn’t matt--”

“Would you just shut up and listen to me for two goddamn seconds?!” You’re screaming, you know that you shouldn’t be screaming when he’s lying there injured and possibly dying, when you know that his heart is pure in intention, but why can’t he see how much you need him to be okay. Your fists are clenched, waving in the air above him and its only when his eyes widen and he puts his hands up defensively that you realize you had picked up the hypodermic needle.

Your eyes meet his and your body trembles, whether from rage or fear you can’t tell. Carefully, moving millimeter by millimeter, you lower your hand and drop the needle. It makes no sound as it hits the ground, which is remarkable considering how effectively it had silenced the situation.

“I--” Your voice cracks and in any other situation you would be embarrassed. But you clear your throat roughly, “I can’t lose you. I won’t let you go off and get yourself killed. You need to let your body heal, because you can keep going, keep pushing yourself to the limit and I have no doubt that you are strong enough to, but your body is going to fail you one day, and it’s my job to make sure it doesn’t just yet so please listen to me, I’ve never asked for you to stay before.” You’re rambling, you’re talking too much because you scraped just a little too close to the surface with that first sentence. “Please Cal, I couldn’t live with myself if I let you go out there like this and yo--”

You’re cut off by Cal’s body contacting your firmly, arms curling around your body as he hugs you tight to his chest. And all of your worries and problems that you were ranting about seconds earlier fade away because his bare chest is right against the skin of your cheek and he’s so warm and smells so good and you’ve forgotten why you were--

“Breath. It’s okay.” He demonstrates with several deep breaths, chest rising and falling against your cheek. You hear the whoosh of air in his lungs, and you shakily try to imitate. You fail the first two times, your pounding heart and surging adrenaline forcing your breaths to come shallow and fast. But he stays close to you, radiating comfort and calm that soaks into you and gradually slows you down.

“You’re still not going out there on that leg.”

Cal shushes you, “I know. I need you to calm down before we get to Kashyyyk. I’m not going to leave until I know you’re okay, and those children still need saving.”

Annoyance sparks through you, “I told you not to put that on me.”

“Yeah, yeah I know. That was a cheap shot.” You wriggle to try and get out of his grip, but he only tightens his arms around you. “Stop fighting me.”

“Only if you stop fighting me.” Still, he’s too strong and you can’t deny that you’re exactly where you want to be.

“Oh I intend to. But I can’t stay forever. How long do you need me to rest?” His chin rests on the top of your head.

You hum thoughtfully, snuggling closer with your fingers drumming gently on his skin, “Bacta treatments optimize after five hours of immersion in the tissue.”

“I’ll give you two hours.”

“Three.” You counter. “I can accelerate the healing if you give me three hours.”

He hums deep in his chest, vibrating against your skin, “Deal.”

You stay like that for a few more minutes, peacefully breathing the filtered Mantis air that smells like antibiotic burn cream and metal. When you open your eyes, your gaze lands on the lightsaber, which has rolled into a corner since the hit and run on Ordo Eris.

“Cal.” Your voice is raspy from the lump in your throat. “The lightsaber.”

He hums, calling the handle to his hand with the Force, “Yeah. Should keep it safe.” He clips it to his belt with one hand, the other still crooked firmly to cradle you.

“Where did you get it?”

He pauses for a fraction of a second, then his arm returns to stroke the back of your head, “It was Master Tapal’s. The Purge. It’s all that I have left from before.”

“Your Master. Was he a Lasat?”

Cal chuckles, “Most intimidating one that I’ve ever met. Wisest one too, but he had a leg up on the competition, being a Jedi Master.” He pulls away slightly to catch your gaze. “How did you know that he was a Lasat?”

You hum, burrowing back into his chest, “I’ll explain later.” For now, the world would hold together.

Cal Taglist: @marvelassassin221b, @my-awakened-ghost

#cal kestis #cal kestis x reader #angst #fluff #jedi fallen order #my boyyy #who lacks any and all sense of self preservation

[awindylife-writes]

His Death

Relationship: 10th Doctor x reader

Summary: you get kidnapped and the Doctor gets shot. You both think the other is dead, but things work out very well. (Not an established relationship)

Warnings: mentions of your and his death but not graphic

Genre: hurt and comfort

You struggled. You bit and scratched and kicked and screamed, anything to get those mercyless hands off of you. The Doctor was running towards you, screaming your name in desparation with his coat billowing around him.

When you looked at him, everything in you froze. There was someone behind the Doctor, and they were holding what was unmistakeably a gun. Alien, big and shining silver, but a gun nonetheless. You opened your mouth to scream, to warn him, but there was a flash of light and the time was up.

The Doctor fell. This wouldn't mean anything if he got up, but he didn't. You could see he wasn't breathing, even though they were dragging you away from him. He laid limp where he'd fallen, and then you caught a sight of his eyes.

His eyes were open, and they were empty. The sound that tore out of you wasn't human.

~

You didn't know how long you had screamed. You didn't know when you had stopped. There had been slaps after that, and hits, but you didn't feel the pain. You didn't feel anything.

They hooked you up to the machine and some part of you knew it hurt, knew it wasn't right. But that part was far away, drowned in the great white nothingness that had consumed everything when he fell.

There was no point to anything now.

~

Maybe you would have woken up on your own eventually, or maybe you wouldn't have. The point is you didn't have to find out.

~

There was shouting, and sparks and terror, but you didn't hear any of it.

Then there was a face, a beloved face swimming in your vision, and the world came back into focus.

"Y/N!!! Y/N!!! Answer me!!!" The Doctor's terrified brown eyes were staring into yours. His hand was on your cheek. Warm.

"You're alive," you breathed, and the dam burst.

"You're-alive-you're-alive-you're-alive-you're-alive-you're-alive-" You surged around his neck and his arms immediately clutched you back.

"I'm here. I'm here. I've got you," his pained voice joined your chanting. "I've got you..."

When you ran out of breath, you noticed you were shaking, and crying and holding onto him for dear life. Then you noticed he was too.

"I thought I'd lost you," he confessed into your shoulder in that moment of silence. He sounded so broken and you hated it. He was still shaking in your arms. You both had tears on your shoulders and you were holding each other with the same desparation coursing through your veins.

After who knows how long, you finally smelled smoke in the air. You didn't want to let go, but it was time.

"Let's get out of here," you murmured to the Doctor. He begrudgingly let you go, immediately taking hold of your hand. That was when you looked around the room for the first time, and-

"What happened?"  you gasped in disbelief.

The corner you were standing in was like an island in a sea of wreckage.

The computer wall was on fire but one part was still managing to throw sparks. The large table in the middle had been broken in three parts and its legs were nowhere to be found. There was so much burnt paper, shards of glass and parts of machinery littering the floor you wondered how you would get to either of the doors. The medical-technical thing you had been tied into was turned on its side with its innards spilling out. You finally noticed the shouts down one of the halls.

You turned to the Doctor, eyebrows raised in question, but before you asked, he simply repeated, "I thought I'd lost you." His voice was quiet but tight with pain. When he finally met your eyes, you saw the terror hadn't left his, but you were glad to find relief in there too. You squeezed his hand.

He continued in harder tone, "And the people who helped me had lost a lot too."

You nodded, "Alright." You wouldn't ask about the violence it took him to get there, and most of you didn't care. They had hurt him. They had tried to kill him. His empty gaze flashed before your eyes and your whole body flinched at the memory.

"Y/N?!!" There was terror in his voice as he franctically looked you over for injuries again.

"I'm okay, I'm okay," you reassured him while your hands found his shoulders. You made sure to catch his gaze as you asserted, "I'm okay."

When tension left his frame, your palms settled on his chest, right above his hearts. Your eyes followed them. You took in a shaky breath. "I just remembered how you looked-" Damn it you were NOT going to cry again.

"I'm here. I'm alright." He gently tilted your chin with one hand while the other pulled you closer by your waist. Now it was his gaze searching yours. "I'm alright."

There was so much care in his deep brown eyes as he offered you a small smile, your heart ached at the sight. You just breathed deeply and nodded, then slipped your hand back into his. "Which way?"

You just had to suck it up until you were both back in the TARDIS. There would be enough time to have breakdowns later.

He got the message, and off you went.

~

The TARDIS hummed when he unlocked the door and let you in first. You held hands until it was time for the Doctor to start the dematerialization process.

As soon as you were in the Vortex, he turned to you with fear still in his eyes. With open arms, he softly asked, "Can I?"

You wrapped yourself around him and he clung to you just as desperately. You thought neither of you planned on letting go, you would just stand there and breathe until the stars blinked out of existence. That sounded like a good idea.

~

(If either of you noticed you kept touching more than ever, you sure as hell didn't bring it up. Considering you both had thought the other was dead, it wasn't that surprising. You were too shaken to stay apart, needing the comfort of each other's presence more than ever.)

(And friends did this, right? Friends who had just seen their friend die? It wasn't like it meant anything more?)

(You knew you two had entered into an emotionally uncharted territory a long time ago. That was at the same time both beyond dangerous and calming - there could be so many missteps and each one could hurt or break you, but this thing here that you'd built with him felt so good, so unimaginably good you wouldn't have parted with it for anything.)

Eventually you did break apart. You felt like you could have fallen sleep standing up, but the thought of wearing the smelly clothes on your back any longer disagreed with you. The Doctor let you go, but did not look happy about it. You took hold of his hand, not wanting to lose the comfort either.

"Fifteen minutes," you began. He raised his eyebrewos in confusion and you went on. "Fifteen minutes to shower and change, then we meet in my room to have a sleepover. Sound good?"

He looked relieved. "Yes. Very," he nodded gratefully and you smiled.

"Good. Let's go."

~

(You didn't want to ask how he'd survived; you hadn't even thought to. You didn't need or want to know, you just clung to the fact that he had.)

You almost fell asleep in the shower, but the thought of the Doctor, alone, was enough to make you move. Finally comfortable in your pajamas you stepped out of your bathroom.

He was sitting on your bed, looking a bit lost. The scene was so domestic it struck you as odd, and it came with that little sting of knowing he didn't love you like you loved him. But that was the least of today's pains and you let it go. He's alive.

He turned around at the sound of the door opening and found your eyes. Now the softness in the sight of him wrapped around you like a blanket and you never wanted it to end. You smiled and walked to the bed.

"Come on," you said to the Doctor as you pulled the covers back. The lights turned off and you welcomed the darkness.

You were reaching for each other before you even laid down. He ended up with his head on your chest, his arms hugging your middle. You tangled your fingers in his soft hair with the other hand around his shoulders. You were grateful for the Doctor's warmth, the weight of him, the feel of his breath on your skin. You clung to these reminders.

You thought he was listening to your heartbeat in the same way.

"You weren't there when I came to," he said into the dark, his voice distant and quiet, as if he would awaken a monster if he spoke any louder. "The last thing I remembered was you screaming as they dragged you away. You screaming for me." It turned harsh as he tried to keep emotion at bay.

"And I wasn't there. I didn't do anything and you were gone." His raw pain and self-loathing came like blood out of a wound and you pulled him even closer. You tried to reassure him but he continued before you could speak. "I knew what they wanted from you. And I knew I was out of time." Despair was loud and final now, that had been the end of him. You felt hot tears seep into your shirt.

"I was out of time, but l was alive. I couldn't even die properly." Amused bitterness seeped into his voice and your hand fisted the cloth on his shoulder.

"No," you shook your head into his hair. "Please no. Never that," you told him, willing him to understand.

The Doctor took a shuddering breath and went on, almost a whisper. "That's how the others found me. But they needed help, they were desparate and a part of me could go on on that. So I did. Just went where they wanted me to and opened doors."

"And there you were," you felt the Doctor smile into your shirt as disbelieving joy filled his voice. "There you were, hooked up to the energy compressor but breathing." He seemed to have trouble doing that now.

"You're alive," and oh, the light in his voice could outshine stars.

"Yes," you answered with a smile. "I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. I've got you," your words echoed his.

He sighed. Tension slowly leeked out of his body as the fact that danger had passed sank in. The Doctor relaxed against you, every inch of you touching. He nuzzled his cheek into your shirt and the silence that followed was welcome.

You didn't know how much time had passed when he spoke again. "You're prescious," he said softly and you forgot how to breathe. "You are so, so prescious to me and I don't-" his words ran out. The Doctor was an eloquent speaker, so you were astonished that an emotion for you had made him speechless.

"I can't lose you." His admission was raw, as if imprinted on the fabric of the universe, a fact. The dark echoed with it.

"You won't," you said and your voice was final. "You wont." You had made a decision and the universe would bloody listen. You would make it listen.

You held him to you tighter, as if you could keep the two of you together just by doing that. "Doctor, since I've started travelling with you, l've seen lives, worlds, destinies turn and change on one person's words, on one being's choice," you whispered to him. "And this is it. You keep me and l keep you and that is final."

You could feel him smile into your shirt, and you were glad your words had managed to calm him.

"Yeah?" he breathed and you grinned in turn.

"Yeah."

He giggled, actually giggled, nuzzling his cheek  your shirt. The sound made your heart dance.

He sighed in content and together, you slowly drifted off to sleep.

#doctor who #doctor who x reader #tenth doctor x reader #10th doctor x reader #the doctor x reader #doctor who fanfiction #tenth doctor #10th doctor #reader insert #the doctor

[sluttbuttsstuff]

Hucow!AU Part 5 (FINALE!!!)

WOOHOO!! It’s finally Bruno’s turn, I saved best boy for last.  All parts combined in gdocs are 29 pages total, this is def the longest thing i’ve written in over a decade!! I hope you enjoy, and look forward to whatever i decide to write next

thanks, and enjoy!

as always. credit goes to @dark-side-blog2 for the wonderful hucow! au

WARNINGS: not sfw, yandere, duncon, noncon, sleep fucking, force feeding, manipulation, dark themes, afab reader, she/her pronouns, all characters 18+!!

After taking care of Narancia and tucking him into bed, Bruno returned to your room once more.  You slept like the dead, worn out from a long night.  Bruno smiled proudly, you had been wonderful for them.  Each bull, you had accepted their love, their passion, their essence and earned your place in the herd once again.  It filled Bruno with such joy, knowing that you were the perfect mate for them, for all of them.

You were caring and kind for Narancia, playful and fun for Mista, calming and gentle for Fugo, accepting and attentive for Abbacchio.  And for Bruno: you were everything.  For so long, there had been a piece of the puzzle missing in his life.  He had a family with no mother, no children.  

Bruno had met you first in a very dark part of his life-his herd was beaten, driven from his home in fear, on the brink of death with no hope.  And then, you had appeared, an angel hidden away in paradise, offering safety, shelter.  Much more than that, even, with a little bit of convincing, and a lot of planning.  He would have his family, his children, and you.

Bruno knew how to play the long game, how to strategize and manipulate, but he only did it for good reason.  He had to, you were too prideful, too stubborn to realize how much you needed him.  You were running a giant farm several acres large by yourself, no employees, relatives or neighbors to help.  Bruno couldn’t have that,now could he?  He and the other bulls took over the hard work and heavy lifting-eventually, after a lot of hemming and hawing from you.  Bruno managed to talk you into it; it was beneficial for both of you, a way for the bulls to earn their keep and for you to get some help.

The bulls helped with Bruno’s plan as well, in their own ways.  Mista put his cooking skills to use, making you healthy meals infused with lackweed (Mulgeo, a plant that encouraged your body to lactate) and pills that increased your sexual urges.  He’d even been adding charcoal to your meals to cancel out your birth control; it wasn’t necessary, Bruno had gotten rid of your birth control months ago while you were asleep, but Bruno appreciated it nonetheless.  

Narancia had gotten you to warm up to them very quickly, being as innocent and naive as he was, and Bruno was able to use him to display his parenting skills.  Yes, Narancia was a grown bull, and mostly treated as such, but he was still the youngest, and hard not to spoil.  Plus, the way you seemed to light up when Bruno would baby Narancia- it was clear your maternal instincts were awakening.  Good!  It was excellent practice for your own children.  

Fugo was admittedly the most awkward around you, it wasn’t really his fault, though.  He had the least experience out of the bulls with women, but Bruno could tell his true feelings about you.  So, he encouraged Fugo to show his strengths to you; mainly his brain.  There was an old tractor collecting rust that needed repairs, and you had lost several crops last season due to lack of irrigation. Fugo was able to repair them, thanks to researching some books and some help from you.  Plus, it was one less job for you to do, and another reason for you to depend on them.  Bruno knew Fugo was nervous, but Bruno was certain he’d be a good mate and husband.  He would make their children very smart.

Abbacchio could be a little rough around the edges, it's true, but he clearly had a soft spot for you.  While he would smack Mista and Narancia around when they got on his nerves or got ornery, you he respected and let a lot slide.  Bruno had seen you tug on his tail (admittedly by accident) , elbow him (after a funny joke), and even put flowers (that he was allergic to!) in his hair!  Abbacchio had taken it in stride, and even defended you when Mista’s teasing or the other shenanigans went too far.  Plus, Abbacchio’s skills as a lockpick let them sneak into your house when you were away or sleeping.  Very useful indeed…

 Bruno knew he had to share you, as much as he wanted you for his own.  He couldn’t hurt his herd, his brothers, who loved you almost as much as he did.  So Bruno was patient, he let them have their turns first, keep the peace….

But Bruno couldn’t wait any longer.

The timing had to be perfect, to ensure he had the best chances. He had snuck into your home months before, stealing and disposing of your birth control, and destroying your refill prescription.  Thankfully you were too busy and preoccupied to make a new appointment with the doctor for new medication, which Bruno appreciated greatly.   Digging through your trash, he was able to record and determine your cycle, in order to find out when you would be most fertile.  He would allow his herd many things,including you.

But his child would be first.

Letting the others go first- he allowed it before you were truly in heat.  They didn’t know why, but were grateful nonetheless, eager to claim you. 

He pulled back your blankets, after making sure you were deep in R.E.M. sleep.  Birds started chirping as dawn rose outside, but you were dead to the world.  So much, in fact, that when Bruno pulled back your bed sheets you didn’t so much as flinch.  You were still nude, too tired to put your pajamas back on last night; Bruno admired the early morning light glowing on your body.  Bruno kissed down your face and body everywhere the sun touched, relieved you were still asleep.  Bruno made note of every bruise and marking on your skin to treat later that morning, as he went lower and lower down your body.  Spreading your legs, you tasted divine.  You were definitely ready, too: now would be his best chance. 

 Licking the others out of your core, he heard you quietly whimper- he paused, waiting for you to stir, but you eventually drifted back to sleep.  You always were cute when you slept, the way you would sometimes talk in your sleep or kick your legs “Running.”  Bruno had learned a lot observing you, and intended to learn a lot more from you today.  He cleaned you out with his tongue and prepped you thoroughly-maybe it was petty of him, saving you all for himself, but Bruno was the alpha bull, and the perfect mate for you.  That’s why it was so important to not just get you pregnant, but pregnant with his children.  It’s what you, the both of you deserved.

Once Bruno was certain you were ready ( you were still soft and wet from last night, and pleasantly warm against his tongue and fingers)  he leaned over you, pulling your legs up against his shoulders into a mating press.  It terrified him how easily you slept, how dangerous it would be if his herd hadn’t found you.  What if someone else had found you before them, taken you like this in your sleep?  It worried him so, that’s why he had to do this, claim you and protect you from any rivals.

  Bruno stroked your cheek, before pressing inside.  Finally, after all this time, he was inside of you, warm and wonderful and all his.  You squirmed in your sleep,but otherwise accepted him without complaint.  Bruno was so happy he could cry, he settled for kissing your  shoulder as he pushed into the hilt.  Bruno couldn’t hold his urges back any longer, he thrust into you again and again, hitting against your sweet spot.  You cried out in your sleep, jumbled noises Bruno convinced himself were his name.  In this position, he was able to reach so deep, force himself as far inside as he could reach.  

His grip on you tightened, feeling the strain of the position, the slap of his balls on your ass fueling his desire more.  But it wasn’t enough, he had to make sure you felt good too.  He suckled your chest, licking your nipples the way he had seen you enjoy.  Your pussy was so wet he was able to rub slick onto your hard throbbing clit, careful to rub the raw skin gently. 

“Y/n, I’m so thankful to have found you, finally we can make our dreams come true~” Bruno whispered to you, desperate for you to know the feelings he’d held back for so long.

“I can hardly hold back with you; I’ve been waiting so long for this, and I can tell now that so have you.  Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you, we all will.  Just give in, you can trust me.”  Bruno pleaded, close to the edge.  Bruno grit his teeth, it was about to end, all too soon.  Bruno wasn’t ready, he wanted to stay like this with you forever.  Relief washed over Bruno as he heard you cry out in release, tightening around him and bringing him to release.

“I’m cumming, y/n.  Please, accept all of me!”  He gasped,spilling his seed inside.  Tears Bruno had held back spilled down as his emotions overcame him, something he would only allow to happen while you couldn’t see.  He was certain this was the right thing to do, now more than ever.  You were his, all of theirs, safe and protected. 

 In the next months, you would become full with child.  Naturally, you would have to stop manual labor-which would be fine, you could depend on your sturdy bulls to run the farm for you.  And then when you had their children, you would need to raise them. Obviously, you had five capable mates to help you; taking turns feeding them, staying up on long sleepless nights, teaching them right from wrong.  So many precious memories to be made with you, Bruno could 

hardly wait.

As Bruno turned to leave you to rest, he saw you start to rise.

“...Bruno?”  You called weakly, and Bruno was by your side in an instant.

“Y/n?  What’s wrong, you’re up so early?”  Bruno asked, concerned.  

“...It’s hot” you groaned, reaching out for him.  Bruno’s heart fluttered, you called out for him.  He felt your forehead; admittedly sweaty, but not necessarily from illness.  

“You are a little warm.  Let’s get you out of these sweaty blankets and cleaned up.”  Bruno helped you out of your sheets, and ran to get a damp washcloth.  He returned quickly, sitting on your bed and wiped the cloth over your body.  Your body flushed, and whenever you thought Bruno wasn’t looking, you would glance over at him.  Bruno smiled to himself, you really were spoiling him this morning-he couldn’t be more delighted.

“Are you feeling any better?  You should take it easy today, you had a long night.”  Bruno said as he washed your stomach.

“Umm, yes, im-ahh!”  You jumped, as Bruno’s wash cloth reached your nether regions.  

“Relax, bella, It’s important to clean this area as well. We don’t want you getting sick now do we?”  Bruno continued, unfazed by your reaction.  You fidgeted a moment longer, but considering all that had happened, you relented.  What more could Bruno do to you?

He toweled you off quickly, patting you dry and then headed to your closet.

“Let’s find you something extra comfortable to wear today, shall we?”  Bruno asked, flipping through your hangers.  What a shame, most of your outfits were utilitarian and industrial, not befitting a mother to be.  

“Oh, Bruno, you don’t have to-”  You began, but Bruno cut you off.

“Here we go, perfect!  Ah, and this shade of lavender will look lovely on you!”  Bruno proclaimed, holding up a flowery sundress made of soft cotton.  Very comfortable, but not the best for farm work.  Bruno couldn’t be stopped though, grabbing some undergarments for you    (how did he know where you kept them?) and helped you sit up in bed.

“Let’s get you dressed, as much as I love the thought of having you nude all day, nothing will get done around the farm with the boys fawning over you.”  Bruno chuckled, sliding socks onto your feet for you.

“Bruno, please! I can dress myself!”  You pleaded, trying to pull away, but Bruno stopped you with gentle but firm hands.  

“Bella, please-let me take care of you the way you’ve taken care of us.  It’s only fair, isn’t it?”  Bruno smiled, tugging your socks up to your ankles.  He held a white pair of panties out for you, “Step in, dear, one foot at a time” You groaned, turning an adorable shade of red Bruno loved, but did indeed let him slide the panties up and onto you.  He convinced you to skip a bra today (Bruno wasn’t completely selfless) and slip into the sundress, snug as a bug.

“Much better!  Now, do you want to see if you can get some more sleep?  You didn’t get many hours of sleep last night, and your body must be very sore.”  He asked you, stroking your cheek.  “Well, maybe later, but-”  You began, only to be interrupted by your growling stomach.  Bruno chuckled, “Ahh, of course, let’s get you fed shall we?”  he winked, placing a hand on the small of your back and escorting you to the kitchen.

You tried to make yourself breakfast, really you did, but Bruno wasn’t giving you any leeway this morning.

“Please, Bambina, let me cook for you.  You always make the rest of us meals, and I’m not completely hopeless in the kitchen.”  He told you, sitting you on a kitchen chair, rolling up his sleeves.  True to his word, he was decent in the kitchen-more than decent, in fact.  Bruno fried up a pig’s worth of bacon, crispy and fried with a sprinkle of cinnamon.  Eggs, sunny-side scrambled and over-easy, just a little bit runny and fresh from your henhouse.  And the cru-de-ta, a mountain-pile of fluffy home batter pancakes, smothered in homemade syrup and creamy smooth butter dollops piled on top.  Bruno piled your plate to the brim, sure to give you only the crunchiest bacon strips and roundest pancakes, with plenty left over for the boys.  It was a miracle the other boys hadn’t woken up yet, but you supposed they were still wiped out from the night before and needed a little more rest.  

Bruno didn’t mind one bit, enjoying the one on one time with you he rarely got.  Sitting patiently for him like a good mate, letting him clean you, dress you, even feed you. Bruno was determined to spoil you, so you would never want for anything other than him again.  Looking around your plate, you asked Bruno, “Sorry, but you forgot to grab a fork and knife.  Would you mind?”  

Bruno smiled, unblinkingly, “Oh no, I didn’t.  Open wide~”  He cooed, stacking a silver fork full of your breakfast.  You looked at him incredulously, “Seriously?”  

Bruno didn’t relent, smile unwavering, “You wouldn’t turn down all my hard work and this delicious food, would you?”  

You wanted to argue with him, you really did.  For every inch he gave you, he took a mile, and it was starting to be humiliating.  But for whatever reason, Bruno always made you cave.  Besides, after everything you’d been through, he’d never hurt you, always gentle and caring.  So, against your better judgement, you sheepishly opened your mouth for him.

Bruno lifted the fork into your mouth, watching your lips close around his fork.  You savored the buttery rich flavor of the pancakes, the spongy texture bouncing lightly in your mouth as you chewed.  To say it was delicious would be an understatement; you were starting to consider letting Mista and Bruno handle mealtime more often.  Bruno bit the corner of his lip, watching you eat your meal.  You wanted to pout, not give Bruno the satisfaction of knowing you enjoyed being babied like this, but you couldn’t help smiling as you swallowed bite after bite, opening your mouth and even leaning forward.  Each bite was better than the last; the salty sweet bacon grease and runny eggs soaked into the pancakes, soaking up the flavor medley and sending your palette into overdrive. 

 Bruno loved every minute, watching you let your guard down for him, licking up syrup from your chin, even letting him wipe your cheek clean with a napkin.  Your stomach puffed out as you ate through your meal, it excited him to know he did that to you, and that your stomach would soon be even more distended and full with his baby.  Your plate was nearly clean, but you didn’t think you could eat another bite.  Bruno had given you so much already, and it was all delicious and rich, and had no more room.

“Please, Bruno, I’m full to the brim.  I’m sorry but I can’t eat anymore.”  You groaned, clutching your stomach.  

“Oh please, just another bite, bambina~  you’ve done so well, you’re almost done.”  He cooed, forking the last bits on your plate.  You tried to excuse yourself, but Bruno stuffed it into your open unsuspecting mouth.  You nearly choked on the utensil forcing your way into your mouth, a sugary syrupy mess that was starting to nauseate you.  It was too much, too rich, but Bruno held your mouth shut.

“Please, y/n, you have to eat more.  Think of our children, won’t you?”  You froze, as you remembered everything that had happened last night with a wave.  You looked at Bruno, mouth still full and ready to vomit.  His gaze tore into you, more serious than he had been all morning.  In fact, the last time he looked at you like that…

Bruno rubbed your back, as your eyes watered and spilled over.  Poor thing, were you already having morning sickness?  No worries, it was only natural; he would take care of you. You were having trouble breathing, not sure if it was the food or the panic setting in.  

“Come on Bambina, you’re almost done.  Just swallow it all down, you can do it~”  Bruno hissed, as he plugged up your nose.  Bruno sighed, watching your eyes bug out; he didn’t want to be harsh with you, but what other choice were you giving him?  You needed to follow his orders, that’s how he kept you safe and happy.  “Now, y/n”  

Despite the lump in your throat, you had no choice but to swallow, the lack of oxygen making you gag.  How could you forget who you were dealing with?  How could you let him take advantage of you again and again?  You wiped the snot and tears from your face, catching your breath.  You flinched as a familiar hand reached out and grabbed your chin.  Bruno turned you to look at him, his face calm and smiling as if nothing had happened.

“There, Bambina, that wasn’t so bad was it?  You have to let me take care of you, okay?  We don’t want you hurting yourself do we?”  He asked, voice soft and patronizing, like he hadn’t just force fed you against your will.  You wanted to run away, but didn’t know where to go.  It didn’t help any as you heard footsteps coming down the stairs.  

“Yo, y/n!  You’re up already?  I thought we wiped you out last night!”

“Guess we’ll have to try harder next time.”

“Are you okay, y/n?  You look ill.  Maybe you should go back to bed.”

“Ohh, it smells so good!  Did you make breakfast for us, y/n?”

You were surrounded.  No way out.  Five strong angry bulls that had taken over your life, your home, even your body.  You couldn’t trust them, not any of them.  There was no escape.

“What’s wrong, bella?  Are you crying?”

“Don’t cry, y/n!  There’s nothing to worry about, we’ll take care of you!”

“You can count on us, y/n.  We’re mates, after all.”

You were trapped.

Trapped.

Trapped.

 You opened your mouth to scream, but it was no use.

It’s not like anyone would hear you, anyways

END

#sluttbuttsstuff #fic #not sfw #hucow!au #yandere #bruno #brunoxreader

[just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi]

Found - Rudy, Mason, and Clyde

The end! Of the arc! Whooo this has been fun! Thanks to all who read. (i'm not down with them as oc's but this arc is over.)

TW: whumper as caretaker, stressed whumper/caretaker, distant whumper/caretaker, drugging tw, implied changing of clothes, implied bathing,

[Masterlist] [Stalker Arc Tag]

Mason was sitting at his desk, vigorously typing an email to the support of every social media platform he could. They weren’t giving him anything, even though he knew that they had the information. They must - companies are always doing shit like that. Tracking. Monitoring. They knew who this creep was and they were protecting them.

At this point, he was ready to get his lawyer involved if he got yet another generic-reply email.

Clyde was curled under his desk. He hadn’t done that in years, not since he was new and very attached to his new Master. Mason trained it out of him a while ago, but something about the familiar place was safe for him right now. So, Mason allowed it.

His phone rang and he reached for it automatically. There had been a lot of calls over the last couple days, and he was nearly fed up with them.

“Hello?”

“Hello, is this Mason Driver?”

He took a deep breath and massaged the bridge of his nose. “It is, who is speaking?”

“Hi this is Amber from the Lakefield Pet Shelter? We have your pet here-”

Mason stood quickly, accidentally kicking Clyde in the process. “Ah, fuck, sorry bud. Is he okay? Who brought him in? Is he hurt? Where is Lakefield I want to come pick him up-”

“Sir, sir, please slow down. He’s okay, he’s got a sprained ankle and is a little roughed up in general, but he’s okay. You can come pick him up at any time, someone from the local department already came and spoke to him.”

A strange sense of anger swelled in him for a moment that someone questioned his pet without him there, but he shoved it away quickly. Other things to focus on, other things he had to do. The woman was still talking but Mason was distracted looking for his keys.

“Can I pick him up tonight? Now?”

There was a small pause. “Yes, Mr. Driver, you can come get him tonight.” After a couple other bits of information, Mason left the house to go get his pet.

Clyde crawled out from under the desk, rubbing his sore hand, a bit confused but hopeful he was understanding half the conversation correctly.

~~

The first thing Mason felt when he saw Rudy hobble out to meet him was relief. Relief that he was back, he was safe, that he was here. Then it was anger. Anger and resentment at the brace around the boy’s ankle, the wraps around his wrists and neck, the bandaids on his face. He had to force his face to remain happy and neutral when he saw the bruise on Rudy’s temple.

“Master!” he cried, nearly falling into the kneeling man’s arms. Mason held him close, arms wrapped around.

“Rudy, thank fucking god you’re okay. I was so worried, oh my god. When I find out who took you I’m gonna-”

“Y-you, you know him, Master,” came Rudy’s muffled voice and Mason pulled him away, held tight by his shoulders.

“What?! Who, who the hell would do that? Someone that I know?”

“It was C-Casey, Master.”

Mason’s face grew grave, clenching his teeth. He should have fucking known. Of course, of fucking course Casey would pull some shit like this. Obviously Mason had called out of work, didn’t care what was going on back at the office during the few days Rudy was gone.

Rudy whimpered and Mason released his right grip. “Oh, I’m sorry Sweetheart. God, that fucking snake. I’m going to ruin his whole goddamn life, just wait and see if I don’t completely blacklist him. He’ll never fucking work with pets again.”

“Sir,” hinted one of the workers, reminding Mason of the other people in the lobby. He didn’t care.

“Come on, let's get you out of here.”

The worker nodded and gestured for them to come up to the counter. “He’s ready to go, just need to go over some paperwork and at home care for the other injuries.”

Rudy pressed himself into Mason side as the man’s brow furrowed. “Other injuries? What happened?”

“He’s a little bit dehydrated, but that should go away in a day or two. The bandages around his wrists and neck are to keep him at scratching at the healing skin, so you’ll need to keep those and on use this ointment that’s listed here. Same for the welts on his back. His ankle is sprained but not too badly, so follow up with your regular provider for that. Other than that, you’re good to go.”

Mason swallowed and signed the forms without another word, not trusting himself to say something he’d regret. Besides, it wasn’t their fault.

On the way out, he was already calling his lawyer to get every medical expense taken out of Casey - money or blood.

~~

Clyde was at the door, bouncing at his heels as the key turned. He had been looking out the window, saw when they pulled up. Saw when Rudy got out of the car! He was limping but he was there. He was home.

The older pet nearly knocked him over as they came through the door. Mason had to grab him by the back of his collar to drag him off.

“Clyde! Back! You know better what the hell,” Mason muttered, setting him down on the ground a foot or two away. Clyde looked up at him, clearly wanting to go back to Rudy. Mason rubbed his temples, too tired and frustrated and betrayed to deal with this.

“Room.”

Both boys whimpered, Rudy tugging on the hem of Mason’s shirt to silently plead him not to. “Now, Clyde. He’s fine. Just go upstairs so you’re not underfoot.”

Clyde gave him such wide, hurt, miserable eyes that Mason nearly took it all back. He sighed, but held firm. He said what he said and Clyde needed to obey that. With another glance back at his friend. Clyde crept up the stairs. Rudy whined after him over Mason's shoulder as the man picked him up and carried him to the living room to set him on the couch.

The boy whimpered as Mason walked away, but quieted after a shush.

Mason stood in the kitchen, holding onto the counter and stared at the tile backsplash. Why was this so hard? Rudy was back, he was going to be fine, the police found Casey and his lawyer said his case was good over the phone. He shouldn’t feel so tense, so tight-wound and anxious. The boy was right out there - why couldn’t Mason accept it?

He rubbed a hand across his short stubble and grabbed a water bottle from the fridge, along with a drink for Rudy. He just needed time, he guessed. Needed to sleep, and probably eat something, and he’d calm down. Meandering back into the living room, he texted his boss that he was taking some personal time off.

Rudy was curled up on against the armrest, tears bright in his eyes. Mason regretted snapping at him, at both of them, but it would pass. They probably wouldn’t even remember tomorrow.

“Hey bud, drink up. How are you feeling, are you hurting?” He asked as he opened the lid for him.

The boy grabbed the bottle and took a sip, nodding slowly. “I, I’m okay.” His lip was quivering, breath shallow and shaky.

“I missed you,” he confessed as he broke, reaching up for Mason who immediately sat down with him. “I m-missed you s-so much, and Clyde, and h-home, I wanted to get away. I was so scared and c-confused and he was mean and hurt me and-”

Mason shushed him gently, pulling him close and petting his hair. “I know, I know Sweetheart. I’m so sorry that happened - I promise, it will never happen again.”

“He wrote on m-my, my scan-y thing,” Rudy said, itching at the side of his shirt. “And, and he took my collar and made me wear a muzzle that cut my mouth and I didn’t eat because- because I just couldn’t and-”

Mason shushed him again, and this time took his drink so he could really lay the boy down. Poor thing was spiraling, clearly over-stressed and exhausted too. “Shh, Rudy, you need to relax. You’re okay.”

“-he, he made me so confused, Master,” Rudy continued, seemingly unable to stop confessing everything that had happened. “I-I know I belonged to you, because, because of m-my collar and my chip but he made me wear his collar and I started to get confused and forget and uh, hng, I, I think I might have called him Master once and I’m sorry! He wasn’t always bad and one time he pet my hair and I tried to struggle but I didn’t that time and I’m sorry.”

“Okay, okay woah bud you need to slow down. You’re okay, you don’t have to talk about all this right now. I know, I know.” A pause as Mason thought. “Do I need to get something to calm you down?”

“I think I was bad?” Rudy started again, rubbing his eyes and hiccuping. He wasn’t listening to what Mason was saying, which was a kind of answer in itself. He was just more convinced of his choice as when he stood, the boy kept muttering confessions to himself. He’d have to re-visit some training in the next couple days, he reconned, just to correct some thoughts that asshole had implanted.

Rudy took the pill unusually well, words petering out until he was quiet. Mason rubbed his head just the way he knew the boy loved, listening to the unconscious hums of contentment.

“Lets get you to bed early tonight, hm? We’ll deal with all this in the morning.”

He seemed much heavier, now that he was out of it. Mason still got him upstairs, sat him on the bathroom counter to clean him up a little. It also gave him a better chance to see Rudy’s injuries without the boy wiggling and squirming everywhere.

It made his blood boil.

He had seen worse, he had definitely seen worse just walking down the street but that didn’t fucking matter. Rudy was his, and he had not given permission for someone to treat his pet like this. The muzzle had clearly been too tight, chafing and rubbing the sides of his face raw. Same for the collar, and the scratch marks from where Rudy had been clearly trying to get it off. Bruises on his hands and knees, what seemed like a bit of blood in his hair.

Mason cleaned him up the best he could, until the only proof left visible were the bandages and bandaids. He changed those, too, to some colorful ones he had for the boys. Rudy would like those better when he was awake.

After changing him into his pajamas, Mason carried him to his own bedroom and put him on the bed. He sighed and went to go get Clyde.

Clyde was in his room, standing in his pajamas right by the door. The boy had obviously been crying, gently cradling his bruised hand. Mason picked it up carefully, examining it.

“Shit, did I do that, Bugs?” he said, convicted. Clyde didn’t really answer him, eyes glancing from him to the door repeatedly. Mason sighed with a tired smile.

“Yeah, go see him.”

In a flash the boy was gone, down the hall to be with his friend. Mason turned the light off in their room before he went to join them.

Finally, back together. As they should be.

~

tag: @whumpingredroses @as-a-matter-of-whump @albino-whumpee @whumpeesblog @suspicious-whumping-egg

#whump #pet whump #stalker arc: rudy and clyde #whumper as caretaker #bad caretaker #cold caretaker #drugging tw

[extasiswings]

"Offer Me" for Buddie :D

Technically this prompt was about giving a gift, but you know how I like to get metaphorical. Also, I understand that it's TV and therefore that they can and will insist on introducing debilitating trauma and then pretending it doesn't exist until it becomes plot relevant again, but if these writers don't stop putting Eddie in hugely triggering situations for his PTSD and not addressing it at all they're gonna catch these hands. Post-4x11.

Eddie makes it through the end of the shift by sheer force of will. And then, when he gets home to a dark, empty house—Christopher wanted to spend some time with Isabel so he’s staying at her house for a few days—

He makes it as far as the kitchen before everything he’s been holding back slams into him at once and has him retching into the sink.

Fuck. Fuck.

It’s not that they never end up around guns on shifts. Sometimes things happen. Hell, Eddie can remember all too well holding a line while Buck talked down a woman hanging out on a freeway sign who had a gun. Things happen.

But that’s different from what happened earlier. They’re not cops. They’re firefighters. They’re medics. People aren’t usually shooting at them. Being pinned down in a shipping container by gunfire, surrounded by his team, trying to keep a patient alive—

Eddie spits into the sink again as he shudders, cold sweat breaking out across his forehead and the back of his neck. His hands grip the counter tight, the edge digging into the palms, giving him something solid to focus on.

"ETA six minutes."

"We don’t have six minutes."

"Diaz—"

Eddie forces himself to take deep breaths and lets his gaze flick over the kitchen, cataloguing everything that’s out in the open. He’s in his house in Los Angeles. He’s not in Afghanistan. He’s not fighting a war.

He’s not fighting for his life.

And it was fine. Earlier. No one was hurt. They got the girl to the hospital. The asshole who kidnapped her was arrested.

"Diaz—"

No one was shot.

He’s alive. He’s fine.

They got the girl to the hospital.

They got her to the hospital.

Eddie’s eyes burn as the panic slowly begins to recede. He releases the counter and drags a hand over his jaw, exhaling shakily. For a minute he just stands there—the echoes of gunshots slowly fade from his ears—but finally he flicks on the sink to rinse his mouth and splashes water on his face for good measure. He’s just shut it off again when his phone rings. The sound is abrupt and jarring in the silence of the house—he flinches at the suddenness and yanks it out of his pocket.

“Hello?” Eddie answers without looking at the id, wincing at how rough his voice sounds.

“Eddie.” Buck’s voice is a relieved sigh. “Hey.”

Eddie’s pulse is still too fast, albeit slower than it had been. He pads out of the kitchen and collapses on the living room couch, stretching out and closing his eyes.

“Did I hear Bobby right that you got arrested today?” He asks as exhaustion settles into his very bones. His hand rests on his chest, over his heart, so he can feel the steady thrum level out to normal—it beats a tattoo of alive, alive, alive against his skin.

“Okay, I wasn’t arrested, Athena just stuck me in an interrogation room for a couple hours to keep an eye on me. And I still helped solve the case!”

Eddie’s lips curve up despite himself. He hadn’t planned on talking to anyone tonight, had dodged Bobby’s concerned looks to avoid getting pulled into conversation before he left the station, clenching his hands so no one would see them shake. He hadn’t wanted to talk. But he hadn’t really been thinking clearly either about the reality of coming home to empty space. To silence. Left entirely alone with his own head.

“Yeah...that still sounds kind of like you were arrested to me. But you were probably having more fun than we were.”

Buck’s quiet for a moment before he clears his throat.

“Chim said you guys were shot at in the container yard.”

Eddie swallows hard. “Yeah. Yeah, for a couple minutes.”

“Are you okay?”

The way Eddie’s stomach twists at the question, at the softness in Buck’s voice, isn’t the same as the roiling nausea that gripped him before. It’s not entirely comfortable—but then it never is when he feels like this. Vulnerable. Exposed. Because he knows why Buck’s asking.

They lived together for months during the second wave of the pandemic. It was a stressful time, and god knows Eddie hadn’t always slept easily.

Buck hadn’t shied away. Not once. Hadn’t judged. Hadn’t demanded explanations—which is why Eddie gave him one anyway.

Buck just listened every time. Listened until Eddie couldn’t wrap his tongue around words anymore and then wrapped his arms around Eddie instead, listing off random facts about anxiety and skin pressure depressing the central nervous system, and maybe Eddie wouldn’t have let Buck hold him out of pity but if it was for science well—

So. He knows why Buck’s asking. What Buck’s thinking.

“Not really,” he admits after a long stretch of silence. “But I will be.”

Buck makes a quiet sound over the line.

"I should have been there—"

“No,” Eddie interrupts, because being trapped with everyone else had been bad enough, but the thought of being in that situation with Buck? Makes something in him recoil violently. “You’re allowed to take a day off, Buck. Don’t do that to yourself. Nobody got hurt and you being there wouldn’t have changed anything.”

Buck sighs, but accepts that.

"Christopher’s at Isabel’s, right?" He asks. "Do you want me to come over? Or—"

Buck seems to trip over his words for some reason Eddie can’t quite understand.

"—I guess you could call Ana—"

“No.” Another recoil. Buck is one thing. Buck is safe, Buck has seen all of his raw, dark, ugly places and Eddie has seen Buck’s. Ana—they’re nowhere close to being there. He would sooner go throw up again than let her in like that.

Eddie swallows again. Takes another deep breath. He hates asking for anything, but—

“Would you—would you just talk? You don’t have to come over, I’m pretty wiped anyway, but...you could talk for a little. I don’t really care what about.”

“Yeah,” Buck says quietly. “Yeah, I can do that.”

Eddie falls asleep on the couch with Buck’s voice in his ear. And he blessedly doesn’t dream.

#chapel writes #buddie #prompt fill #buddie fic

[echo-of-sounds]

i’m not angry. i’m concerned

Small drabbles of Aizawa, Toshi, Hizashi, and Gang Orca taking care of you after you have a relapse of self-harm.

Warnings: self-hate, self-harm, punching a wall, hitting oneself with an object, bad bruising/swelling, (semi-graphic) cutting, blood

Aizawa Shouta

You knew it would only deform your hand more. And you still did it. Now you were left with bruised and swollen knuckles. Damage jarred your bones. Trauma twitched your muscles. And they just kept swelling. They were so big, pulling tendons, stretching skin uncomfortably, distressingly. Cries and hiccups slipped through your stifling.

Footsteps hurried down the hallway. You turned around. Shouta questioned your back, “What was that noise?”

“Drop- Dropped something.”

“It didn’t sound like it. It came from the wall. Did you throw something?”

“I-” Tears and twinges killed your reply. You gripped your wrists, trying to cut off the rocketing pain spasms. He’d criticize, blame you for your stupidity. He wouldn’t even have to speak to let you know the shame he held. One apathetic, antipathic look and his repugnance would be clear, ridiculing your caricature of a hormonal, huffy teenager.

Even your body was revolted by the action. Eight months of self-power- no knifed skin, no disfigurements- was snapped in one vulnerable second- a weak, weeping second that left you pitiful and hopeless and useless and worthless-

Warmth wrapped your back. You jerked from his embrace, crying for him to leave. His voice was as warm as his body, “I’m not going anywhere. You need me right now.” Hands supported your monstrous one while he wordlessly directed you to the living room then the couch.

He briefly left your side before coming back with ice, pills, and a drink. You readily accepted the painkillers. 

While you sipped the water, he closely examined your knuckles. He asked, extending one of his fingers, “Can you push down?” It hurt but you could. “Can you bend them?” It was rigid but you could. “Can you make a fist?” It was tight and inflamed but you could make half a fist. “You have motion, which is always a good sign. If the swelling doesn’t go down by morning, we’re going in for X-rays.”

His words were caring. Yet guilt burst. You sobbed and tried to stand, to get away from his judgment. But he caught your hips, moving them onto his lap, hushing your feeble protests. “It’s alright. Just stay with me.” The cloth-covered ice pack was lightly swathed around your hand.

“Sho, don’t be angry. I didn’t mean to…” you cried through the smothering tears.

“I know, honey. I know.” He kissed your forehead. “I’m never going to be angry with you for something like this. I’ll only ever be concerned. I promise. I love you.” Two more kisses came. You nuzzled into his neck, wanting his warmth to soothe the frayed and confused emotions. “I love you so much.”

Yagi Toshinori

A loud sob broke through your attempts to remain quiet. You smacked your hand over your mouth, hoping he didn’t hear. But your hopes were dashed almost immediately. The door creaked open. You kept your head down, clutching the damp towel to your water-coated skin.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart? Why are you crying?” His calm voice trailed closer. A faint hum came as he noticed the issue. Delicate, cautious hands settled on either side of your lower thigh, cradling the bruised, swollen skin. He whispered your name, so earnestly, so soberly. It caused another sob to escape. “What did you hit yourself with?”

You shook your head, digging your nails into your hair at your juvenile, near infantile, action. The vague thoughts, the acute, uncontrollable anger, the snapshot self-harm wasn’t understandable no matter what the fucking DBT book said. And now your eight-month progress was rendered pathetically pointless.

One hand found your arm, caressing, seeking any response. He breathed your name. “Did something happen?” At more silence, he dropped to his knees, begging, “Sweetheart, please, talk to me. I’m not angry. I’m concerned about you and your safety. What did you use?”

You weakly pointed to the discarded brush. The handle broke off from the rest at your final, hardest hit.

“Did you do anything else to yourself?”

“No,” you choked.

“Okay, okay…” he muttered. “Can you stand?”

“I don’t know.”

“Come on. Let’s try.” Your grip on his outstretched hands was horribly frail, unable to haul your weight. He helped, easily pulling in your absence. The towel fell and left you naked but you couldn’t care.

Your first step ended with you against his chest. The swelling spread to your knee, stiffing, tensing the joint. “I’m sorry,” you wept into his shirt. “I’m so sorry. I don’t- I don’t know why…”

“You don’t need to be sorry.” He kissed your head. Bearing your weight for you, he slowly guided you to the bed. A pair of underwear was guided up your legs then he laid you down comfortably. He kissed your head again, mumbling, “I’ll be right back. Okay?”

You nodded and nearly nodded off when your leg was lifted and a pillow was placed under it. Cold covered your knee next followed by a blanket. You welcomed the water and pain relievers.

After multiple gulps, you tried to explain but your breath caught, “Toshi, I didn’t- I think- I- I-”

“Shhh. It’s alright. It’s alright.” He slid under the blanket, curling up beside you, affectionately rubbing your stomach. His endearing voice softened into your ear, “You don’t need to talk right now. All you need to do is relax. Can you take some deep breaths?” He counted for you. And again for your next one.

“I love you.” Lips brushed the side of your face repeatedly. You leaned into them, letting his arms wrap around you. “I love you so much, sweetheart. You’re going to get through this, I promise.”

Yamada Hizashi

A couple of knocks startled you. Hizashi called your name. “Are you okay? You’ve been in there for a while.”

You didn’t hear his usual rambunctious proclamation of coming home. If you didn’t answer, he would obviously know something was wrong. “I’m fine,” you croaked. Your voice shouted that you weren’t, in fact, fine.

The door opened and you cursed yourself for not locking it. “Oh, baby…”

It was deplorable. You mashed your palms into your eyes, not wanting to face his anger, his horror, his utter disgust. Your defenseless, nude body, blood-soaked paper towels, smeared red thigh and hands, and the razor that did the defiling laid out helplessly, staining the floor.

Eight months went down the drain in just a few minutes. You couldn’t recall why or what you were thinking. It was all moronic, whatever it was. Now you only felt pain. An itching, pulling pain that was accompanied by gruesome liquid and coagulated blood.

He called your name, trying to reach you. But you didn’t want to reach back. He’d reprimand you for dirtying the floor. He’d criticize you for failing. He’d be sickened at your cuts. It was gross. You were-

“Please talk to me.”

The tears you thought you stopped sprung out loud and pathetically. You apologized, again and again, hoping he didn’t hate you and your beastly body.

A hand took your shoulder. You were moved as you continued repeating remorses. A cool cloth tried to gently clean your imbrued leg. Raw skin ignited. Slashes stretched. You gripped his wrist, shaking your head for him to stop. It was all too ugly. And you didn’t want him to see it, touch it.

“I need to clean some of the blood to see the cuts better. I need to see if you need medical attention.”

You collapsed and wailed into his chest, “I’m so sorry. Please, please, don’t be angry. Please. I’m sorry- I didn’t- I’m sorry, Hizashi. Don’t be angry. Please-”

“Shhh, baby girl. I’m not angry. I’m not even close to being angry. I’m just worried about you.” He mourned your name, kissing your temple. “Everything’s gonna be alright. I promise you that.” 

The cloth went on in a light motion. It eventually settled against the wounds, pressing with pressure to stop the rest of the bleeding. 

You continued crying into him. A few of the tears weeping onto your shirt weren’t yours. Lips graze your forehead, whispering, cherishing, “I love you so much.”

Gang Orca

The slits spilled over, painted your palm and wrist red. It happened too fast. You couldn’t think. You couldn’t stop your hand from gripping the blade and opening your skin.

Anger and fear didn’t control your movement. There wasn’t any sadness or anxiety harassing your mind. For so long, everything’s just been insignificant and now that blood slurred your skin, everything was still nothing. Injuries and confusion don’t count. Shame was a given. Pain was another but none of it was whatever you wanted.

There were no paper towels or tissues near. Your legs wouldn’t move. You could only stare at the detached emotions leaking from your hand. But seeing the layers of skin separate more and more grated pain into panic. Your voice broke as you shrieked, “Ku-GO!”

Heavy footsteps rushed into the bedroom. Your name waned softly from his mouth. You couldn’t look at him. You didn’t want his revulsion. Or his annoyance at your inane, weak-minded behavior. You were supposed to be clean of it. Though it always found you, no matter how many months you thought you outran it. 

He whispered, “I’m right here. It’ll be okay.”

“It hurts,” you gasped, tears now blurred everything. His warmth seated beside you. Your hand was carefully lifted and a cloth wrapped tightly around the wounds.

“I know it does. It’s scary, isn’t it?”

You nodded, desperately trying to calm yourself.

“It’s going to be alright. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere, I promise,” he helped compose your breathing. A hand barely stroked your back when you shrunk away from his touch, his irritation, his condemning of your feral actions.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do this. I don’t- I don’t- I don’t know why. I fucked up… I fucked up… I'm sorry…”

“You don’t need to apologize. I’m not angry with you. But I am incredibly concerned and worried. Right now, these need to be cleaned. Will you let me pick you up?”

You nodded again. Kugo easily lifted you, stopping to grab the medical kit before taking you to his comfy armchair. You curled up in his lap and rested against his chest while he thoroughly dressed the injuries. Despite his bulky fingers, he was as gentle and graceful as can be. Quiet praises came in between each bandage.

They brought more tears. Turning into his shirt, you cried out your grief. He hugged you close and caressed your arm. “Everything's okay. You’re okay, my love.” He held your hand to his mouth. “I love you more than anything else. You're going to get through this. And I'm going to be right here the entire time.” 

#aizawa shouta #aizawa x reader #all might #all might x reader #yagi toshinori #toshinori x reader #present mic #present mic x reader #yamada hizashi #hizashi x reader #gang orca #gang orca x reader #kugo sakamata #kugo x reader #aizawa imagine #all might imagine #present mic imagine #gang orca imagine #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha imagines #tw self harm #tw cutting #tw hitting #tw punching #tw blood

[simplysummers]

Breaking down Hunter and Omega’s relationship. Pt 2.

We’re back at it, here with the second post in this father-daughter-space-duo series! You guys responded to the first post better then I expected in all honesty! I didn’t think my insights were viewed as so important lmao. I don’t really think much introduction is needed here, the post itself is very self explanatory.

(Pasted paragraph: I would just like to add a disclaimer here. I am, in no way whatsoever, slating the other batchers for having differing relationships with Omega. I absolutely adore everything single one of the boys, and I think they all have wonderful and unique interrelations with her. Although I may point out these different approaches in comparison to Hunter’s, I am not stating these engages are wrong, just different is all!

I’m going to separate this into a little series- covering each episode in a separate post, which I’ll have tagged as the series progresses. Once I’ve tackled these two, as they’re my favourites, I’m going to move on to each individual Batcher and perhaps a few other dynamics such and Hunter and Crosshair, or Wrecker and Omega! Let me know what you guys would like to see!)

(Thank you to this weeks proof-reader: @treasureofmy-heart 💛)

Cut and Run: S1/E2

We kick off this episode with Hunter walking in on Echo inspecting Omega and Wrecker fast asleep on the floor. His face is very relaxed and he clearly finds it very sweet that her childlike curiosity has tired her out. His line, “ha, well this is a first,” while holding a strong gaze in Omega’s direction, suggests that she’s been exploring for quite some time, unleashing her endearing juvenile inquisition in the batchers presence. Hunter continues to claim she’s curious, using the same lighthearted tone he has always used in her regard, sparing the conversation in the medical wing on Kamino. This continues to confirm his gentle approach and concern towards the young clone.

When Echo confronts him over the situation at hand, it’s evident that Hunter hasn’t actually thought about what he’s going to do with Omega, yet by the look of quizzicality on his face. I personally took this as a sign that his initial thoughts were always “we’re going to lay low with her, look after her, while keeping everybody else safe.” It’s clear here that Echo has differing ideas that Hunter hadn’t even began to consider, and I think that’s what perplexes him in this moment. He needs to consider everybody.

The kid is up and awake! (Let the havoc commence aha.) Omega’s reaction to sunlight and dirt is definitely one of my favourite developmental moments of hers, it really sets in place that this little girl may have been an intelligent medical assistant, but she lacks experience, and still needs a guiding hand to help her through this new world she’s never endured before. I’d like to point out that it is, in fact, Hunter who stops to watch Omega’s reactions, and his FACE when she’s playing in the dirt! I’ve never seen such a parental smile on a man so stoic! I feel like I’m repeating myself a lot, but he is so endeared by her! She’s a breath of fresh air in Hunter’s very toxically routined life, and I love that for both of them. When they finally reach Cut’s land, Hunter is the one to pull her back, despite the fact she had to run between Echo and Tech to get to him. And upon Suu and Cut’s arrival, I actually didn’t realise that Omega creeps behind Hunter, most likely because these are strangers she doesn’t know and she feels she needs the protection. This confirms a clear bond between them has already began to flesh out.

There isn’t too much to say about the introduction and inhibitor chip discussion, as Omega spends a decent amount of that time exploring Cut and Suu’s house, but I will just say that it’s a nice touch that she ends up back at Hunter’s side when her part of the conversation is needed, she always seems physically drawn to him. Which brings me to my next point. Upon Shaeeah and Jek’s arrival, Omega once again creeps behind Hunter out of fear, only deciding to approach when formally addressed to do so. *Sigh*, and when Shaeeah pulls Omega out to play, and she halts to ask for Hunter’s permission, which is clearly given through a series of comforting smiles, is a plain indication of a trusted child-parental relationship. I must admit, Hunter’s face is pretty hilarious when everybody practically calls him out on his parental role- it’s just “why are you all staring at me..?” Because you’re acting like a dad, my dude.

Okay! Down to Cut and Hunter’s discussion. It’s a nice touch that Hunter is the first one outside to watch Omega play, swiftly followed by Cut, who, rightfully so, questions her existence. Although instead of explaining Omega’s origin (and by that I just mean that she’s a medical assistant clone from Kamino), he states that it doesn’t matter what the Kaminoans created her for, because she’s with them now, and to be with them she doesn’t need a purpose, she’s just a kid and should be allowed to act like one. Cut goes ahead to tease him over the ins and outs of raising a child, but to Hunter it was a no-brainer, Kamino wasn’t safe, so she was coming with them, as I’ve said previously, he saw NO negotiations. And as Cut says, “I (you) have to do what’s best for them.” This adds sentiment to the narrative of Hunter’s commanding role within the squad and Omega specifically.

So I’m shifting ahead slightly to the ball incident, and I have a LOT to say about this scene. First of all, it’s clearly evident that Hunter is the first to leave the house, along with Cut and Suu following closely behind. Associating this trio together is purposeful on the animators part in my opinion, they intentionally exclusively had Hunter leave with the other parents in the situation, isolating him specifically with that role in Omega’s life. When he finally reaches her, we see the protective hand come straight out to guard her against the Nexu, a typical trait they’ve established between them.

Now we move on to the confrontation. This is the first time Hunter raises his voice at Omega, and immediately she turns herself away from him, curling into her shoulder and making herself small. Omega is going through a lot of emotions right here, she’s afraid, anxious, and she’s being forced to deal with the fact that for the first time, Hunter is mad at her, for something she didn’t even intend to do wrong. Whereas from Hunter’s perspective, he hasn’t acknowledged she’s already in a bit of a state, and instead feels the need to immediately lecture her for her mistakes….although this lasts all but thirty seconds. Upon Cut’s attempts to diffuse the situation by having him pull Hunter away and reiterating that “she’s (Omegas) not a soldier”, his face immediately softens, he forgot for a moment, but now he realises and instantly the features are set in a regretful frown, he clearly feels awful and misrepresented. Hunter continues to observe Cut’s behaviour as he comforts Omega, who seems to take to the attention like a kicked puppy, lip trembling, eyes shaky, shoulders hunched, and I honestly think as Cut carries her away- is the exact moment Hunter realises he isn’t good enough for Omega. (I’ll further out on this in a moment)

I only want to briefly touch upon Omega’s gunners nest scene because I don’t think it has too much impact on her relationship with Hunter, however I would like to address the symbolism. I personally see the removal of her headpiece and the addition of her bangs as a new beginning, attaining the contrasting yellow light of Salucemi in comparison to Kamino, where she would’ve been given her jewel. Considering the episode’s outcome, Omega is no longer the tightly held, quivering little girl from Kamino, and instead she brings a slight unruliness to her aura, a little cheeky, definitely her brother’s sister. Still a sweetheart of course, but with a matter of confidence and boisterous behaviour to her. She seems to bounce out of her sadness quite easily here, as she seems suddenly awkward- yet curious- over Tech’s plan later on.

Furthering out into my previous point about Hunter believing Omega deserved much better in comparison to what he could provide: his conversation with Suu. “Protecting them is what we do.” The realisation on his face when she says this, it’s so…raw, something he’s taking time to comprehend. He heeds her words because he knows she and Cut are experienced in this field, they are better suited for Omega than he and the boys are, he believes he isn’t good enough for her, and this is projected when he insists ‘Mega leave with the family of four. Although Suu questions his sincerity, and he does indeed dodge the straightforward answer, this is what Hunter anticipates is best for Omega. He’s putting her needs above his happiness, no matter the heartache.

Moving along slightly, as Omega and Hunter spend a short period of time away from each other during the ship impoundment, I briefly wanted to touch upon the tone of Hunter’s voice when he learns Omega is on route to their position…by herself in a heavily armed spaceport. His eyes widen in a moment of fear, his voice is suddenly strained, he is struck with another raw emotion, something he frankly can’t obtain right now, and it’s let out in a minor threat towards his brothers- “if something happens to her-“ a clearly indication of worry.

This next point absolutely breaks my heart, the poor dears, both of them. Upon Omega’s arrival, Hunter is left to explain his forced proposal that she should leave Salucemi with Cut and Suu. As usual he completes his little ritual of taking her shoulders and crouching to her level, although this time he can’t quite look her in the eyes, a clear sign of regret and guilt, because he doesn’t want to give her away, he knows deep down she belongs with them, but he doesn’t believe he has what it takes to raise and protect her. The way Omega’s eyes crumple really catches me here, she’s being left, again… All this kid has ever known her entire life has either been abandonment, abuse or isolation, and she’s being passed on to strangers by the only people she’s ever been able to trust, and not only is it clearly breaking her heart, but she’s taking it personally, she thinks she’s at fault, much like Hunter does. Her line: “but, I want to stay with you.” compressed with the quivering tone and her precious accent really aides her desperation here, it conveys her in an adequate and very precise way.

Starting a brief new point to split these up slightly: I bring us to the continuous glances shared between them. Omega consistently looks over her shoulder to Hunter, she doesn’t want her eyes to leave him for one moment, she’s savouring his face, his details, for the very last time. And equally, Hunter is letting go of something he doesn’t want to leave behind, he likes the kid, to the point where his own self depreciation and doubt have been forced ahead in order to protect her, he can’t risk anything at this point. I’d also like to quickly mention how beautifully Omega’s eyes are animated, they intel so much, those precious little doe irises hold such story to them.

Moving on to a little jump cut enduring the batch’s escape and Omega’s return: Hunter’s tone of voice when addressing Wrecker is so pained, and his facials match it perfectly “she’s not com-“ it’s almost as though he’s biting back the urge to sprint headfirst into the gunfire if only to catch up to the little clone before it’s too late.

However, seeing as she’s managed to find her own way back that wouldn’t be exactly necessary. I think it’s a nice point that Hunter is the one to rush to Omega’s aide after she is grabbed by the trooper (flowing a brief flash of concern crossing his face), although Wrecker might’ve been closer, it’s a nice hint to their subtle closer bond. He, once again, crouches to her level although an unnecessary step in the situation, and I see this as another nod to their familiarised dependancy.

Finally, my last point for this episode, is their final conversation within the last few minutes. It’s faint, but the fact that the other batchers are all busying themselves in the cockpit, leaving Omega and Hunter to chat privately, is a very distinct use of separation. It also should be noted that Omega is the one to approach Hunter, this shows a decent level of not only maturity on her part, but trust between them as family, she trusts both him and herself enough to advance on a delicate situation, we even see her hesitate slightly, before pushing forward with a slip of confidence, and that takes a lot of gut from a little kid. She stands her ground, but with compliment. She very much reminds me of Hunter himself in the brig, assertive yet respectful. And speaking of Hunter, his face is just absolutely guilt-ridden when talking to her, because he too made the mistake of attempting to give her away, no matter how much good he thought it would do them both. While Omega is admitting she has a lot to learn in regards to safety and tactility, Hunter is suggesting he has a lot to learn about raising a child and providing the necessary care for her. It’s a brave moment for both of them, to be honest and open, and yet its received extremely well on both ends.

“If this is where you want to be…then this is where you’ll stay.” The admiration in his voice, the admiration in her eyes! They absolutely adore one another, and it melts my heart every time it’s displayed!

I hope you liked my analysis of Hunter and Omega’s relationship in episode two of The Bad Batch! Of course, I’d love to discuss these two with anybody who might be interested, so please feel free to drop me an ask or a DM, and if you’re captivated enough I’d totally recommend looking out for my future posts on the topic!

As always, much love to our ‘Megs and Hunter, thank you for reading! 💛

Part One: Aftermath

#the bad batch #star wars #the clone wars #star wars the bad batch #tbb #sw #star wars animated series #star wars tv show #omega tbb #hunter tbb #wrecker tbb #echo tbb #tech tbb #sergeant hunter #arc trooper echo #clone trooper tech #clone trooper wrecker #clone force 99 #father daughter space duo #omega bad batch #hunter bad batch #hunter and omega’s relationship #hunter and omega #cut lawquane #suu lawquane #shaeeah lawquane #jek lawquane #long post #hunter dad supremacy #omega my sweet little princess

[pthalomars]

Ninjago fanseason!

Here’s the first part of my synopsis post, I’ll make sure to reblog it and add more of my summary as I write it out. 

Trigger Warnings for this: blood/gore, hospitals+surgery, injury, there will probably be more and I will make sure to tag accordingly (if there’s anything else that I miss, please let me know so I can tag it!!)

Anyways, here’s how it starts...

Battle in Ninjago City

A group of assailants are on the rise in ninjago city. The ninja show up to thwart their latest attack and a battle ensues on the streets. The assailants are spread throughout the city, so the ninja are forced to split up into teams. Cole with Jay, Zane with Nya, and Lloyd with Kai.

Lloyd and Kai are fending off their attackers, but Kai notices something is wrong. His powers aren’t working. Pathetic flames are sputtering out of his palms and fizzling out into smoke. He’s losing his powers again. 

While Kai is distracted, one of the enemies has a laser gun trained on him, ready to strike and take him out. Lloyd jumps in front of Kai at the last minute, taking the laser beam straight through his left shoulder. Dangerously close to his heart. Kai and Lloyd are on the ground, and when Kai comes to his senses, he frantically gets him and Lloyd into an alleyway for cover. 

Lloyd is losing a lot of blood, and Kai is doing his best to tend to his wounds. He screams into the com that Lloyd is down and that they need medical help, now. Zane assures him that an ambulance is on the way, and to stay with Lloyd until paramedics show up. 

The attackers start to make their way into the alley, only to be strewn aside by Nya and Zane. Cole and Jay have showed up as well, and now Kai and Lloyd are at least safe from them. Kai has Lloyd propped up against a wall, keeping pressure on his wound and telling him that he’s gonna be alright. Lloyd is whimpering in pain and tears fall from his eyes and stain his red-painted gi. “It hurts..” Lloyd murmurs. Kai lets out a choked sob and holds him close. “I know, I know it does buddy. It’s gonna be okay, you’re gonna be okay I promise.”

Medics finally show up and get Lloyd out of there. Kai and Nya are able to ride in the ambulance, and so they make their way to the nearest hospital.

The Ambulance

The ambulance ride is tense. Paramedics are working to stabilize Lloyd enough so that he can survive until they arrive at the hospital. Kai and Nya are shoved in a corner, as to not get in the way of the medics. Kai doesn’t say anything, his eyes are empty and he’s a million miles away in his mind. Nya is beginning to process the events of that day too, and all she can do is look between her brothers and silently let her tears fall. 

She leans on Kai and goes to hold his hand to comfort him, but she stops short of his wrists. He still has so much of Lloyd’s blood on his hands. It’s on his gi, it’s in his hair, it’s underneath his fingernails. She figures it’s best to hold his arm, so she does. Thankfully, the ride is short, and they make it there in time for Lloyd to go into emergency surgery.

The Hospital

Lloyd is rushed into surgery and Kai and Nya are left in the lobby of the hospital. Kai wants to be near Lloyd, so he stays as close as staff will allow him to. Which means he ends up sitting on the ground in a hallway for a very long time. 

Nya sits with him for a while, before she gets up to get them snacks. Then to call the others and let them know where they are. Then to get some fresh air. She checks in on him periodically, but also figures he needs space to process what all happened that day. 

Eventually, the others show up. Cole, Jay, Zane, Wu, and Misako arrive and start asking a million questions. Nya looks exhaustedly at them, and tells them that she’ll fill in the rest later. Jay leads Nya to sit down and Cole asks where Kai is. Nya points to the hallway across the room, and says that he should be at the end of the corridor. 

Cole makes his way down the hall, and low and behold, Kai is still sitting in the same spot. The master of earth knees down, putting a comforting hand on Kai’s knee. Kai looks up for the first time in hours and Cole sees the dried tear streaks coming from his red and puffy eyes. 

“Hey buddy, how are you holding up?” he asks. Kai averts his gaze and curls further into himself. Cole’s eyebrows pinch upwards, and he goes to move some of Kai’s hair out of his eyes. He notices the blood in his hair and worriedly asks him if he’s gotten medical attention. Very quietly, Kai says, “ ‘s not my blood.” and then Cole looks down at Kai’s clothes, and his hands. It finally clicks. It’s Lloyd’s blood.

Cole sighs, moving to stand up. “Let’s get you cleaned up, huh?” Kai doesn’t respond, but allows Cole to help him get on his feet. They make their way to the nearest bathroom.

Once in the bathroom, Kai starts to wash his hands. He watches as the dried blood begins to run off of his hands and drain into the sink. He scrubs and scrubs and scrubs, but his hands are still red. The water is scalding hot and he’s started to rub his skin raw. Cole sees Kai become increasingly upset and then notices his hands again. Steam is rising from the sink and there’s no more blood. Cole turns off the sink and grabs paper towels. He dries off Kai’s hands as delicately as he can before looking at him. “Your hands are clean, Kai. They’re clean.” Cole brings Kai in for a hug and Kai shatters in his arms. Cole presses a kiss to the top of Kai’s head and wraps his arms tighter around him. They hold each other for a long time before they finally leave the bathroom. 

Cole brings Kai to the lobby, where everybody is sitting together, finding ways to pass the time. Zane and Jay go to stand up and greet Kai, but Cole gives them a soft, warning sort of look. A look that tells them that Kai isn’t ready for that quite yet. They sit back down. 

A nurse comes out and informs them all of Lloyd’s condition. He’s alive and he’s stable, but he’s going to need to stay at the hospital for a while until his condition improves. And unfortunately, they aren’t able to let the ninja stay with him through the night. They have to go home. Kai protests, stating that he needs to be there for Lloyd, that he can’t just leave him alone. Wu puts a hand on Kai’s shoulder and reassures him. “He’s in good hands, he will be okay for the night.” Wu says. After a moment, Kai sighs and reluctantly agrees to leave.

The First Night Home

The gang gets home and everyone is so exhausted from the events of the day. It’s about 1 in the morning and everyone heads to bed. Cole asks Kai if he wants to stay in his room. Kai nods and lets Cole lead him to his bed. They fall asleep in each other's arms, and Kai is too tired to cry anymore. Cole holds him and pets his hair. He could take a shower in the morning. 

The first week(s) home

Each day that passes, Kai begins to come to a realization. Lloyd was hurt because he was protecting him. If he had been able to use his powers, Lloyd wouldn’t have had to get hurt. It was his fault that Lloyd was in the hospital, that he had a hole blasted straight through his shoulder, that he wasn’t home. 

He still visits Lloyd every day. His little brother isn’t always awake, but he just needs to make sure he’s still alive. Usually one of the others will go with him, and sometimes everyone will tag along. Lloyd gets better with time and his recovery goes along smoothly.

Kai comes to another realization. Without his powers, he is useless. He can’t protect himself, let alone anyone else. The rest of the team has to compensate for him, and because of that, they get hurt. Kai has to leave. 

The others notice that something is off with Kai. Cole, in particular, sees that he’s acting very differently. He asks him if everything is okay, and every time Kai responds with “I’m fine” or “it’s nothing important.” Part of Cole feels bad, and wonders if he’s being too pushy. But his concern for his boyfriend overpowers that minor worry.

Kai spends the majority of his time thinking over his departure. Where is he going? What is he going to do? Why is he leaving? He doesn’t have all the answers right away, but to him, that didn’t really matter. All that mattered to him was that he was a danger to those around him, and to keep the others safe, he had to take himself out of the picture for a while. At least until he got his powers back and could carry his own weight.

But he couldn’t leave. Not yet. He was going to wait until Lloyd came back home. He had to make sure he was going to be okay before he left. He had already failed him once, he didn’t want to make it worse by leaving without ensuring that he was in hands he could trust.

Lloyd comes back

Lloyd is finally able to be released from the hospital. The ninja have worked hard to get the monastery clean and ready for him to come back home. After what felt like forever, they would finally get to have him back. 

The doctors gave strict orders that, even though Lloyd is stable enough to be released, that he must be given enough time to fully heal and recover from his injuries. No training, no fights, nothing. Just bed rest and lots of physical therapy sessions. 

The gang brings Lloyd home and they all share very careful side hugs with their boy. Kai is so relieved to have Lloyd back, but he also knows that it was time for him to go. 

They all sit down for dinner and the room is lighthearted. Everyone is laughing, cracking jokes, and enjoying each other's company. Except for Kai. He’s trying to fake it, but it’s painfully obvious that he just doesn’t have the energy. Nobody pushes him though, nor prods at him with questions. For once, Kai feels relieved that he isn’t being put under scrutiny.

Eventually, Kai excuses himself and heads to his room. He explains that it’s just a headache and that he was going to lay down for a bit. 

After a short period of time, Cole gets up to go check on Kai. He knows it wasn’t just a headache.

(dialogue)

[[Cole: Hey babe, just wanted to check in on ya. Everything okay?

Kai: … jus’ not feeling well. 

Cole: Do you want some company?

Kai: I’d rather be alone right now.

Cole: That’s okay. Just know that I’m here for you when you’re ready. I love you, Kai.

Kai: .. I love you too, Cole. I really do.

Cole: I know. I hope you sleep well, good night honey.

Kai: g’night, rocky.]]

Kai’s Departure

Later that night, everyone has gone to bed except for Kai. He’s laying in his bed, staring holes through the ceiling. He knew that he would leave once Lloyd came home. He was alive, recovering, and safe with everyone else now.

He gets up and starts packing the essentials. He realizes he’s gonna need different clothes for when he’s gone. There are multiple reasons for this. He needs to be less recognizable, he doesn’t want people to see him and immediately know who he is. His signature color reminds him of his failures, how his fire has both failed him in his times of need and hurt those around him. And most importantly, it reminds him of Lloyd’s blood that remained on him for so long. The way the blood dried on the fabric and never seemed to wash out from underneath his fingernails. He doesn’t like the color red anymore.

(as a characterization for his outfit, the colors are dark grey and black to resemble charcoal and ash. This is meant to be symbolic that his “fire” has been put out and that he has to find a way to “reginite” himself)

As Kai is putting together his new outfit, Wu walks in and sees what he’s doing.

[[Wu: Kai, what are you doing?

Kai: I’m.. I’m leaving.

Wu: Leaving? Why? Where are you going?

Kai: Master Wu, I.. I can’t do this anymore. I don’t have my powers, and I’m dragging everybody else down. I can’t even protect myself, let alone those I love, or even all of Ninjago. Everybody else has to pick up the slack that apparently I can’t carry on my own. People are getting hurt. My friends are getting hurt, Wu, and it’s my fault.

Wu: Is this about Lloyd?

Kai: Yes, yes of course it’s about Lloyd! He got hurt trying to protect me because I panicked and wasn’t paying attention. He could’ve died, and it would’ve been my fault. 

Wu: Kai, you know he did that because he didn’t want you to get hurt. I’m sure you would have done the same.

Kai: Of course I would, but that doesn’t matter. There was- there was so much blood. He was crying and I had to keep pressure on the wound but it was hurting him and there wasn’t anything else I could do. There was so much blood, and it was everywhere. I was supposed to keep him safe. But I couldn’t because I don’t have my powers, again. You know how I reached my true potential because I realized I was supposed to protect the green ninja? Some fuckin’ protector I am, I couldn’t even keep him from getting shot and almost dying. AGAIN. It seems like every five minutes, I lose the only thing that makes me worth something!!

Wu: Kai-

Kai: You know, after all the years you’ve spent training us, training me, that I would be able to carry my own weight. But I can’t! I can’t and I don’t understand why! So- so I’m leaving. I can’t stand to see other people getting hurt, so I’m gonna go figure some things out. I’ll come back when I’m ready, but I just can’t do this right now. And don’t try to talk me out of this, I don’t wanna hear any-

Wu: I’m not going to try to talk you out of it. 

Kai: -what? 

Wu: Even if I tried to convince you otherwise, it is clear that your mind is made up. If this is what you have to do, and this is what you think is right, then go through with it. It is not my place to tell you what to do. You may be my student, but you are also a grown man and you are allowed to make your own decisions. 

Kai: I.. wow I wasn’t expecting that..

Wu: I know, but I hope that it was better than hearing me chastise you and tell you that you weren’t allowed to leave. 

Kai: Yeah, yeah it was better than that. 

Wu: However, you must understand how your absence will affect the others. Have you told them that you’re leaving?

Kai: .. No.

Wu: They will be searching for answers, and they will most likely be looking for you. 

Kai: I know. If they ask about me, you can tell them why I left. But don’t tell them where I’m going.

Wu: Why not?

Kai: Because even I don’t really know. 

Wu: I understand. Please be safe, Kai. The monastery will always be your home, and we will be here for you when you are ready.

Kai: Thank you, Master Wu. Thank you.]]

Kai makes his way out, but as he is leaving, Lloyd looks out of his window. He sees Kai walk out of the monastery and into the night. But Lloyd is still in a sleepy daze, and immediately falls back asleep. He assumes it was all just a dream.

#ninjago #ninjago fanseason #ninjago a fire you can't put out #kai smith #lloyd garmadon #nya Smith #Cole brookstone #jay walker #zane julien #master wu #ninjago wu #ninjago misako #lavashipping #tw blood #tw gore #tw hospital #tw surgery #this isn't beta read just as a heads up lol