#BUT. If there was a way for Dante to pull that corpse out and take it so the viewer could reclaim their body he would do it in a heartbeat

[beneathstarryskies]

Day Nine: Virginity Loss/Sacrifice w/ Dante

A/N: inspired by @actuallysaiyan! ;) go check out her kinktober because she's killing it.

Warnings: 3.7k words, virginity loss, deity kink (I'm not sure if that's a thing but the village worships Dante like a deity), AU!Dante, arranged marriage (Dante demands a bride), p+v penetration, fem!reader

Tag list: @actuallysaiyan @loki-love @the-eternal-sunflower

The devil had arrived in the night and taken up residence in an abandoned castle rumored to have once belonged to the dark knight, Sparda. He never spoke to the people inhabiting the surrounding village, and for years they never spoke to him. They spoke of him, of course. Small populations have a knack for weaving big tales, and the strange man with a striking resemblance to Sparda proved to be their favorite subject. Was this stranger friend or foe? Nobody could ever say for sure, and those who claimed to know weren’t taken seriously. 

All of this changed when demons attacked the village in the night. Yours was the first house they pillaged. You’d tried running, but ending up trapped in a closet. As your home burned around you, prayers fell from your lips despite you never having believed in a higher power. Tears blurred your vision as smoke stung your nose. The door is ripped off the hinges, and you look up to see a devil standing above you. It was different from the ones who had attacked. The devil glowed red and wings were outstretched behind him. 

“Please,” you whimper. 

The devil changes before your eyes. In a flash of red demonic energy, a man stands before you. He kneels down to scoop you up in his arms and carries you through the flames as though he doesn’t feel them licking his skin. You instinctively curl up tighter in his arms to avoid getting burned and you squeeze your eyes shut until the cool night air hits you. 

“Thank you,” you whisper as you dare to look up at the man holding you in his arms. 

He says nothing as he carries you to the edge of the village where the rest of the inhabitants were gathered. You can’t help noticing the demon corpses scattered across the ground. He’s the one who did this, you know that. He sets you down gently and takes a moment to make sure there are no more demons lurking around before turning away. 

All of the villagers look on in awe as his broad form starts to disappear in the night. It’s you who follows. He jolts like something has shocked him when you grab his arm. 

“Wait,” you say. You gulp when he turns to look at you with those icy blue eyes. “What’s your name?” 

“What do you care?” he grumbles. 

“You saved me…us.” 

“Dante,” he answers, then pulls away from you.

You watch him disappear into the darkness. Your heart races as you wonder about the devil. 

After that night, the villagers began to revere him as a deity. He had shown such tremendous power, there was no longer doubt about his origins. It had begun as whispers as the village began to rebuild, then began the offerings. Food, clothes, even money were left on the stone stairs leading into the castle. At first it seemed that Dante didn’t take the offerings. Fruit rotted where it was set, and mischievous kids began swiping the money. 

As summer turned into fall, the nights grew cold. You wondered more and more about Dante. He never took anything, but you wanted to do something nice for him. You couldn’t stop thinking about the sadness that permeated from him. 

One foggy morning, you ventured to the castle. In your arms were a blanket and a small basket of freshly baked bread you’d gotten from the bakery. You shudder as you look up at the looming castle, but you venture forth anyway. A group of older ladies with carefully wrapped meals were making their way in front of you, and their chatter was surprisingly comforting. 

Dante could smell you before you ever made it to the front of the castle. It was that sweet, cinnamon scent that pulled him out of bed. He slid into his tattered robe before going to the window. His heart races when he sees you coming up the narrow path leading from the village to the castle. You’re even more beautiful than he remembered from the night he saved you. He watches you kneel down as though in prayer like the rest of the visitors. Then, you set the blanket down and you put the basket on top of it. You look up again, and Dante gasps as he moves from the window for fear you could see him. 

Long after you leave, the scent lingers. It drives him crazy. No matter how much he tries to return to his new goal of drinking through the entire cellar, he can’t stop thinking about you. Once the sun goes down, he carefully opens the front door and grabs the offerings you left for him. He quickly realizes your scent has permeated the blanket. This need bubbles up inside of him as he carries everything up to the bedroom. 

“Fuck,” he mutters as his skin starts to heat up. Before he knows it, he’s curled up with the blanket. His cock throbs and he purrs as buries his face against the soft blanket to take in your scent. He reaches down to palm at his cock, making himself leak from the swollen tip. He’s going crazy with lust. He jerks himself off to images of you, wishing he’d spent more time memorizing your features. The memory of you on your knees as you left him such sweet offerings sends shivers up his spine. He cries out as he cums all over the blanket you left for him. 

He waits anxiously for morning to come. The sunrise would bring you back to him. He sits by the window, watching as the villagers come and go. Part of him feels panicked when you don’t show up. He wants to see you so bad. Just a little glimpse of you. That would be more than enough for him. 

“Come on,” he mutters as he waits and waits and waits. 

It’s nearly sunset before you finally come. He perks up immediately as he notices you. You look so beautiful to him right now. His heart is racing. This time you’ve brought wine and more food. Nothing that would hold your scent. 

Your heart races when you notice that your offerings from the day before aren’t on the step anymore. You set everything down before stepping back to look up at the castle again. You see him standing in the window. He wants to recoil again, but knowing that you were looking for him makes him freeze to the spot. You flash a sweet smile before waving. This is what makes him recoil from the window. 

He wants to talk to you, but he also wants to touch you. He wants to fuck you and taste you. His heart is pounding. This isn’t something he’d ever expected to happen to him. When he came to this village, he was just looking for a quiet place to waste away. He’s lost everyone and everything he cared about. He didn’t think he’d find a reason to live. This tiny village was the last place he’d expect to find his mate. 

He feels his chest tightening as he watches you leave.

Day after day, you come to him. He catches glimpses of your beauty as you leave him offerings. Sometimes you leave things with your scent, and he always collects those offerings. He has a small collection at this point, but it’s still not enough. He needs you, and now he knows how to get you. 

He waits for the right time. There’s a small meeting in the village square just after sunrise. For the first time since the demon's attack, he leaves the castle. Halfway down the path, he devil triggers and flies the rest of the way down. All of the villagers gasp as their deity flies above them, then lands right in the middle of the crowd. As soon as he lands, everyone kneels, including you. He makes a point to stretch his wings out and his chest puffs up. 

“In exchange for my protection, I demand a bride,” he growls in a low, distorted voice. His glowing eyes fall on you, “I need her. Bring her to my castle at sundown.” 

You feel tears brimming in your eyes as you look at him. What could he possibly want from you? Before you can say anything, Dante is gone. It’s decided almost immediately that you’ll be given to the devil for the sake of the village. 

Bit by bit, you’re prepared for the night ahead. Before sundown, you’re bathed in sweet-smelling oils that make your skin silky smooth. Then, you’re given a red lingerie set to wear underneath the soft lace wedding dress. You put on a black cape over it, and then you’re escorted to the castle. You’re scared of what lies ahead of you. You’re trying not to cry when your escort knocks on the door. Before the devil opens up, they leave. 

You’re trembling as you wait for the door to open. Finally, he opens the door. You gasp at the sight of him. His broad form makes you feel even tinier than you already did. 

“I’m so happy you’re here,” he whispers before reaching for your hand. Despite the callouses, he’s gentle as he guides you inside. 

You swallow hard, “Y-you are?” 

“Of course, princess.” 

Your heart flutters at his sweet nickname. The castle is cold and dark. Does he expect you to live here with him? He guides you upstairs to the bedroom, and you’re surprised at the stark difference between this room and the rest of the castle. Little did you know, Dante had spent the day carefully preparing for your arrival. 

A warm fire steadily burns in the fireplace, and there’s a nice nest of blankets and pillows laid out. There’s a bottle of wine chilling and two glasses. You’re still taking it all in when he begins removing your cape and lays it down on a nearby chair. His cock twitches when he sees that pretty dress hugging your curves. His large hands cup your waist before pulling you closer. The purr that rumbles through his throat sends shivers down your spine. He leans in closer and takes in a deep breath. Your scent fills him with need. He can’t believe you’re really here in his arms. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he mutters softly. “I can’t believe you wore this just for me.” 

“I thought you’d want it because I’m your bride.” 

“I love it,” he kisses your cheek softly. “Come here, sweetheart.” 

He wraps his arm around your waist to lead you to the nest he put together for you. He sits down in the pile of pillows, and you try to sit with a little distance between you. Dante won’t have that at all. Now that you’re here with him, he needs to have you close. He pulls you in closer. 

“I won’t hurt you,” he purrs softly before kissing your cheek again. “I am at your mercy.” 

Your heart pounds at his words. It doesn’t exactly make sense to you after the display he put on this morning. The devil who showed up in the village square bears little resemblance to the gentle man you’re with now. He keeps pulling you closer until you’re perched on his lap. He feels absolutely intoxicated just from the smell of you. 

“You’re at my mercy?” you ask. 

“Yes,” his nose drags along the curve of your jawline before he places a soft kiss on your neck. “I need you. I’ve thought about this moment, having you here with me like this, for so long.” 

“Oh, Dante,” you relax in his arms. “I knew you weren’t cruel.” 

“I could never hurt you.” 

He cups your cheek gently and pulls you in for a soft kiss. You moan softly when his tongue drags against your bottom lip. It takes you a moment to realize he wants you to open your mouth, but finally, you catch on. You part your lips and his warm tongue pushes between them. Fireworks erupt in your stomach when his tongue gently rubs against yours. This feeling growing inside of you makes you squirm on his lap in an attempt to get some friction against your clothed cunt. Dante easily picks up on your eagerness, and he takes it as a cue to lay you down. Your fingers tangle in his soft hair as the two of you keep making out. You feel yourself becoming weaker and weaker to his tender affections. 

“Let me take this off,” he says quietly as he reaches around your back to unzip the dress carefully. He almost had it pulled down your shoulders when you grab it in an attempt to stop him. 

“W-wait,” you stutter. “I can’t-” 

For the first time, Dante looks angry. He sits up on his knees, and his large hand cups your cheek to force you to look at him again. There’s a fire burning in his eyes, “Aren’t you mine?” 

“Of course,” your bottom lip trembles slightly. “I’ve just never done this before. I’m scared, Dante.” 

His face relaxes as he leans down to kiss you once more. His kiss this time is gentle. Your noses rub against each other when he pulls away. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” his cock twitches in his pants. “That’s perfect. I’ll make you feel really good, yeah?” 

“Promise?” 

“I swear,” he kisses you again and again. “This is perfect, you’re perfect. All for me.” 

His eyes are soft with affection as he gently moves your hands so he can proceed with removing your wedding dress. A soft growl rumbles through his chest when he sees the pretty red lace lingerie you wore for him. His fingers trace the delicate patterns on your mound, and he doesn’t miss the dampness towards your core. The scent makes his head spin. 

“You have to trust me, sweetheart,” he tells you. “I need to hear you say it.” 

You swallow hard around the lump in your throat, “I trust you.” 

“Good girl. So good.” 

He kisses you softly before letting his lips trail along your jawline then down to your neck. His hands carefully knead and caress your hips, your thighs, and then finally your tits. The lace bra only seems to annoy him. He grunts before working to remove it, careful not to be too aggressive with you. Despite his earlier antics in the village, he doesn’t want you to be afraid. He knows he can win you over. It is hard to keep his devilish nature at bay when you smell and feel so wonderful, but he’ll fight as hard as he can. 

“So beautiful,” he mutters against your skin. His lips trail over the soft swell of your breasts as he kneads them. Your skin feels flushed as the arousal grows. Your fight to hold back your noises fails when his warm, wet mouth circles around your perked nipple. He swirls his tongue around the pink bud before sucking on it. He traces the shape of your areola before moving to give the other nipple the same treatment. 

You’re soaked and needy by the time he slots himself between your thighs. He removes your panties slowly, letting the tips of his fingers trail along your legs before tossing them aside. Your little pussy is exposed to him, and he can think of nothing else now. He lays on his stomach between your legs, spreading them when your shyness causes you to pull your thighs together. As soon as you’re wide open for him, your hand protects your modesty. Dante growls. 

“Don’t hide from me, sweetheart. I can’t make you feel good if you keep hiding,” he coaxes your hand away. “You said you trust me, remember?” 

“You don’t think it’s ugly?” you ask shyly, reliving the insecurity you’ve held since you were in your adolescence. 

“It’s beautiful,” he assures you before leaning down to place a kiss on your mound. “So beautiful.” 

Instinct takes over. He can’t take things slow when your soaking pussy is right there. He drags his tongue between your folds and he swears he’s never tasted anything sweeter than your arousal. It’s like the sweetest wine, warming him up and making his head spin. You cry out when he sucks on your swollen clit, and it’s just music to his ears. His grip on your thighs tightens as he holds them open, and Dante devours you. He laps eagerly like he’s starved, because he is. Ever since the first moment he laid his eyes on you, he’s been craving you. His small collection of items that held your scent were nothing compared to your taste and smell taking over his senses. He hardly notices you’re going to cum until you’re tugging on his hair. That white hot pleasure rips through your very being and your back arches against the floor. His name falls from your lips more desperately than any prayer you’ve ever said kneeling in front of his castle door. Your first taste of pleasure makes you ravenous for more. 

“Please,” you whine. “Please, please more.” 

Dante pulls away from your slick and smiles at you. Your juices dripping off his chin and the wild look in his eye makes him look every bit the devil he claims to be. 

“I’ll give you more, princess. So much more,” he promises. 

He gets up on his knees and eagerly tugs his clothes off. A small gasp leaves him when he feels your soft hands on his skin for the first time, trailing down his chiseled abdomen to reach for the buckle of his belt. If he’d known that just one taste of pleasure was all it would take to make you so weak for him, he would’ve gone down on you so much sooner. All of the talk when you arrived would’ve been skipped, and he would’ve been on his knees for you as soon as you walked through the door. Now, he knows and he’ll use this to his advantage. 

“Oh!” you gasp when you open his pants and his cock springs free. It’s bigger than you’d ever expected. The swollen, red tip leaks a luminescent fluid. Dante doesn’t have the strength to slow down to explain to you that being a devil means some things about him are different. No, he decides he’ll answer all of your questions later. Now he needs you. 

He pushes you back against the pillows and guides his cock to your hole. He’s already panting by the time the tip slips inside. Your hot, wet walls are squeezing around him. He pushes in a little more. At the same time he feels resistance, you whimper pitifully and press your hands against his stomach. 

“It hurts,” you whine. 

He goes still before leaning down to kiss you soothingly, “I know, baby. I know. Just a little more, okay?” 

“Dante,” you look up at him with tears stinging your eyes, “Is it gonna hurt the whole time?” 

“No, baby. I promise,” he kisses you again and starts rubbing your clit. “You need to relax for me. Please, baby.” 

You nod weakly, “I’ll try.” 

“You gotta,” he mutters. “Be a good girl for me.” 

“I promise.” 

Dante begins shallowly thrusting his hips again. Once your whines turn to soft moans, he pushes more of his length inside. You feel so full and stretched, but this warmth spreads over you. He keeps pushing until he bottomed out. He grunts and just feeling every inch of his cock squeezed by your walls makes his nerves light up with need. He holds you tight as he picks up a frantic pace. He’s trying his best not to go too hard, but fuck it’s nearly impossible with how good you feel. 

“Fuck,” he growls and nuzzles his face against your neck. “You feel so fucking good.” 

He struggles more and more with controlling his pace, and soon he loses the fight. His hips snap desperately as he clings to you. You feel overwhelmed with emotion and this new sensation taking over. Tears roll down your cheeks. One hand cradles his head and the other rests on his hip. 

“Dante, please,” you sniffle. “Please, slow down.” 

“I can’t,” he groans. “Need you so bad.” 

He lifts his head so he can look at you. The sight of your wide, teary eyes just makes him feel even more feral. He pulls you along with him as he sits up on his knees. Before you have a chance to say anything, his hands are on your hips guiding you to bounce on his cock in time with the snapping of his hips. You don’t even realize the only thing holding you up is him. Your knees barely even touch the ground. You feel something tightening inside of you like you’re going to explode. 

“Dante, it feels funny.” 

“Let go for me,” he pleads. “You’re gonna cum, baby. Don’t be scared, just cum on my cock please.” 

Your fingers dig into his shoulder blades as fireworks erupt in your belly. You cry out his name and your juices soak him as you ride out your high. With just a few more deep thrusts, Dante is right behind you. This warmth fills you up and he’s trembling. This is more than he’d ever hoped for. You truly are a dream come true for him. 

Once you've ridden out your highs, he gently lays you back down. Your face is flushed, and your eyes are dazed when they meet his. He’s scared now that you’ll hate him. Maybe you’ll feel disgusted about being bonded to a devil. He waits for the rejection. Instead, your hands reach out for him. 

“Hold me, please,” you whine. 

His heart erupts with affection. He can’t even think of the words to say to describe how happy he is right now. He lays beside you, and pulls you in so close. Soft kisses are peppered all over your face, making you giggle. It’s the most beautiful sound. 

“I love you,” Dante says before he even comprehends the words. 

“I love you too,” you confess quietly. “I’ve loved you since the night you saved me, and it was the strangest thing.” 

“I’ll take care of you, baby,” he says quietly. “Forever.” 

“Forever,” you repeat quietly and sink into his embrace.

#dante x reader #dante devil may cry x reader #dante sparda x reader #dante devil may cry #dante dmc #kinktober 2022

[gundamcalibarney]

@standswap-september

a whole year can make a difference!

doing and posting this days in advanced since i wanted to do some newer art! Sorry for November Rain being nonexistent here 😔💥 I am a coward who didn’t want to guess around with colours with it 😭.

[ Bios ] :

Josiah Joestar (he/him, The Passion) - Diligent yet very tired this man will go at great lengths for his loved ones. A man from a well known family of mariners, though a bit rough around the edges due to his rather strict upbringing he’s a sweetie at heart, though he prefers to not get into conflict destiny pulls him towards it and he unfortunately takes part in one that involves him against his brother Dante.

He was then later pulled into stranger circumstances once he is pulled into trans-timelinear and universal situations and is thrown into a small rut when told that Dante has been stirring up messes for a while and that exploded into something like this? He just turned twenty two why is everyone jumping to calling him grandfather. He however, is not immune to sometimes joining in whatever nonsense that has brewed.

John Joestar (he/him, Hermit Purple) - Rambunctious and acid tongued this Joestar who’ll pull any dirty trick in the book if it means that he’ll get the upper hand, a prankster and not afraid to spit out any cutting remark regardless of situation, he's got good intentions he just so happens to be a bit of an ass about it. Unfortunately known for crashing planes.

While training to battle the Pillarmen to get stupid rings out of him (and not the marriage kind!) he was ambushed by his Hamon Coach who turned out to be mind controlled and swiftly after that he's brought into wacky stuff such as fighting ghosts and meeting himself as an old man!?

Josei Horojo (he/him, Star Platinum) - Peppy and with his heart on his sleeve the boy has passion and damn will he show it! He's what one would call the boy next door, his cheerful attitude and willingness to help others is usually bound to bring a few people in. Josei's a bit of a mama's boy and isn't afraid to show it as he'll go on a Journey if it means helping her get better!

While he and his gramps were on their way home after the battle with DANTE he is later approached by a man with a hat and later his revived yet mind controlled companions! In what is a convoluted plot to once again destroy the Joestar lineage he must gather the Corpse Parts and other Joestars to put an end to these multi-universal and timelinear escapades!

Joudai Higashikata (he/him, Crazy Diamond) - Anxious and on the shyer end of things he just wanted to play for his baseball team. Joudai tends to question Everything, he doesn't know what's going on he would Like to know what's going on! He cares deeply for people and wants to help people but he just doesn't know How and often needs to be instructed on what to do but he gets better in the long run once the hunt for felines ensue.

During this hunt, he gets into a brawl with his mind controlled friends Hachiro and Sada and after knocking Sada out of it he's pulled into more confusing shenanigans which involve More relatives he’s never heard about!?

Gioro Giotere (any pronouns, Gold Experience) - Cunning and sharp witted while he can't guarantee you're complete safety they'll make sure you make it out alive. Zey're very stand alone, it's a pragmatic kid to boot so she'll do whatever he needs to do to complete a task or get closer to a goal that xer companions don't fully know at the moment, he’s not at all fond of the concept of a puppet for he finds regular ones unnerving and people ones spineless.

After the defeat of Divino he encounters strange people who arrived at the colosseum for their assistance and it involves the gathering of their other family (which she was surprised to know that it had) to stop DANTE, the name strikes a bit of familiarity to him as xe has heard the name be said by their mother…perhaps it could potentially meet zer father and get a few answers.

Joaquina Rojoh (she/her, Stone Free) - Stoic and adamant on what she wants this young woman will prove her innocence for a crime she didn’t do. A good eye for design she’ll spot discrepancies and flaws within structures (whether it helps in getting out or because she felt a bit catty that day) with ease, once she gets more properly acquainted and befriends a few of the inmates and strays that sit around she develops a protective streak and a Ride or Die relationship with them.

After her father’s memory and Stand film were stolen by Wyatt K. Spade and the field begins to shift Plus admittedly a bit frazzled by the whole thing she’s then walked up to by her own old man and while she’s reassured he’s ok-wait what do you mean this is the Younger version of dad. And What do you MEAN Jesus’ corpse is mind controlling some of her gang.

José Joestar (he/him, TUSK) - Ambitious and ready to prove himself this horse rider from the Philippines is ready to rise above and get that cash prize. He’s a suave and loud man and knows how to use his words to get what he wants, though he tends not to show it since he prefers to have his bravado up in public whenever possible he does form tight emotional connections and cares for those he considers close such as fellow racer Rajul.

In a battle that costed Rajul’s life he mourned as he was about to square off against the equally mournful Stand user that wants to access dimensions to reunite with their family a muscular purple man suddenly appeared and somehow the parts of the

Joyara Higashikata (they/them, Soft & Wet) - Inquisitive and easygoing like their alternate universe counterpart they have little to no idea as to what’s going on though they’re somewhat less questioning about how things go about. They’re often curious about many things being an amnesiac that literally just woke up on the beachside, they’re as a result a bit nosy and 100% willing to pry into whatever to get as much info as they can especially if it’s their origins in question,

What would’ve been a day spent trying to pursue who they are two women proceed to ambush them and their crush partner in crime Koena this kid in a baseball cap with the saddest eyes they’ve ever seen jumps in with a burrito that smells holy and soon enough they and Koena are dragged into shenanigans that involve family, an identity crisis, oh and more confusion.

=⭐⭐⭐=

[ Ability Overview of the Stands ] :

Can't be Standswap without Stands so I'll go over them all briefly, they're all sentient or semi-sentient by default and they won't be as prose posed as the bios for the Joestars.

[ Now & Then ] - A Stand awakened by DANTE piercing himself with the arrow and considered Josiah's posthumous one. It's predominant ability is to watch over people within the Joestar family, it's most effective for those who are direct blood descendants of Josiah than it does for those adopted or married into the family, it does this within the mirror it resides.

Speculated to have a humanoid form but it has never denied or confirmed these.

[ Wayward Son ] - The Stand of Josei Horojo, at first its main and at the time assumed sole ability is to punch stuff really hard however one too many incidents later and in the fight with DANTE it reveals it has the ability to slow time, it can do this for a maximum of seven seconds and is physically demanding for th euser.

[ Daytripper ] - The Stand of John Joestar, it has the ability to store things within a small subspace, effectively making it a hammer space of sorts. It has a limit to how big and how much it can store within it.

[ When Doves Cry ] - The Stand of Joudai Higashikata, this purple pompadoured Stand can change the material of the object it targets though for convenience it often chooses to use metals, it has the potential to change the material to something besides metal.

[ Endorphin Machine ] - The Stand of Gioro Giotere, it has the power to speed or slow down the growth process of most things and the ability improves along with Gioro’s skill level. Once stabbed with the Requiem Arrow it can fully control the physical maturation process such as the aforementioned speed and slow but also reversing and full stopping.

[ Little Wing ] - The Stand of Joaquina Rojoh, it can turn any material into a string like material though the speed at which it can do such depends on what material wishes to turn into string, she’s able to reconstruct and in some cases reshape them, she is able to do it on her own body however tends to do this somewhat sparsely as Joaquina says the actual sensation is…not that good.

[ Tango in the Night ] - The Stand of José Joestar, an ACT Stand that grows alongside him in skill to harness the Spin. At first allowing José to minorly manipulate small objects to being able to being able to bend dimensions to its will whenever the drive is reached. Rajul is both impressed and frankly terrified at this escalation of power.

[ Queenie Eye ] - The Stand of Joyara Higashikata, a Stand with the ability to fuse two objects together and a Stand that one Toyo Santos keeps a keen eye one. As of right now its power can only work on inanimate objects though Toyo suspects that it might grow as time passes.

#daryl draws #jjba #jojo’s bizarre adventure #jjba mothswap #standswap #standswap september 2023 #jjba the passion #jjba jonathan’s stand #jjba hermit purple #jjba star platinum #jjba crazy diamond #jjba gold experience #jjba stone free #jjba tusk #jjba soft & wet #everyone’s got minor tweaks since i first designed them #José’s the most consistent surprisingly enough #HMMMM CAN YOU TELL THAT I HAVE NOT READ PARTS 7 AND 8 AND IS USING SECOND HAND KNOWLEDGE AND JOJOWIKI

[deanwithscissors]

Come To Me - Part 2

Pairing: Dean X Reader

Word Count: 3656

Warnings: Swearing, anxiety, depression, self harm, suicidal thoughts, mention of masturbation 

Summary: Dean notices [Y/N]’s on edge, once again he’s there by her side to help her through the urges and aftermath, but it’s his urges that can’t be tamed this time

A/N: struggling again, so there’s another part. part 1 if you missed it. please read the warnings!

It was due to happen, the black abyss was always there, waiting in the shadows, waiting for her resolve to weaken; allowing the poison to seep through the tiny cracks and tear her apart from the inside. So, here she was, trapped in her head with her demons once again. The new, unused blade calling from its cave, promising to help soothe her mind and take the pain away, her knight in shining armour, her light in the dark. 

She’d been fighting, struggling, barely surviving for days. Unable to leave the bunker due to extreme anxiety, unwilling to stay in the bunker because of claustrophobia, basically abandoned in purgatory. Every second, of every day, a strong invisible hand wrapped around her throat, tightening by the minute and disorienting her, a thick black smoke engulfing her petite frame, lurking in the shadows and creeping into bed with her. The pit in her stomach was growing, spreading, devouring her from the core.

She’d been through her distractions list, two times, coming up on a third round. The place was spotless, every inch, the laundry was done and even put away, the boys’ too. She’d already showered three times today, her hair falling out from how much she was washing it. She’d taken time to write, nothing profound, but a hobby she rarely took part in these days. She’d even pleasured herself multiple times to pass time, but still it ticked by so slowly, each minute dragging out for an hour.  

The thoughts had reached ugly levels, to the point of avoiding the kitchen because of the number of tools available. God, when Sam started cutting a newspaper, she had to leave the room, her hands shaking with contempt, engulfed in urges to snatch them from him and turn the blade on herself. No matter where she turned there was instruments that could be used to inflict pain, even when she closed her eyes, she dreamed of the metals gleam in the light, shining like the sword pulled from the stone.  

Curled up in her bed, anguish flooding her veins, melting her mind and taking apart her soul, she could do nothing but lay there and endure the torture as the bed rocked as if on a stormy sea, forty foot waves slashing and rupturing the boat beneath her. The demon deep down forced her to view images of herself, flesh from bone, in a bloodbath on the stone cold floor, tears staining her wilting skin, abandoned by dead eyes.

Dread lay in her stomach, crawled up her esophagus and laced her mouth, keeping her awake all night so she could mentally explore the nine circles of hell, although with her sinful act, according to Dante, at least she wouldn’t be going to the ninth ring to be frozen forever, no she’d be stopped at the seventh, where those who commit suicide go, because by the time the sun popped up the next morning, she was sure her soul wouldn’t remain in the bunker, or on this earth.  

Such a dark and nasty thought, but it somewhat comforted her, at the end of the day there really was always a way out, an ultimate that would remove her existence and dismantle her pain. She wouldn’t have to wake up the next day wishing she hadn’t, barely functioning as a human to make it through to bed time, to find no solace in sleep and for it to be morning with the blink of an eye. Christ, she wondered if she truly was already in hell, damned to suffer and be ripped apart bit by bit through vicious self-hatred.

The only thing that stopped her from committing the act was Dean. She couldn’t bare the thought of him finding her lifeless body, falling to his knees, cradling her cold corpse and praying to a God he doesn’t believe in to bring her back as tears streamed down his face. Another loss to add to the list, another body to add to the pile.

In another realm entirely, her soul deserted her body for just a second as a hand curled over her shoulder. His lowered voice pierced the black sludge, thinning the fog and transcending into a bright white light as his touch brought her back to reality, binding her being to her body once more as her eyes flickered open to see his soft beautiful face.

“Dean?” her voice was a wisp.

“Hey, I did knock I swear, even tried talking to you, but you were— I dunno — somewhere else.”

“Yeah, I didn’t get much sleep last night, I’m a little out of it.”

“Do’ya want me to get something for ya?”

“No, it’s okay, just a rough night.” She was glad he was speaking slow and smooth, her brain unable to comprehend anything other than simple in this moment.  

“Seems like it’s been quite a few rough nights,” he said, as politely as he could, his fingertips lightly denting her flesh.  

“I guess,” she mumbled, her eyes averting his intense glare, instead focusing on the open plaid shirt covering his frame, faintly counting the squares, wishing she was counting the freckles on his bare skin instead.

“We’re headed out for a supply run soon, you comin’?”

“No, I— if you could just pick up a couple of things for me, please.”

“Sure, just gimmie a list.”  

“Thanks Dean, you’re the best.”

“Yeah, I know,” he beamed.

“Since you’re the best, can you take my glass to the kitchen please?” she asked softly, waiting for a smart-ass remark about her not having legs, or, what did her last slave die of, but he only smiled.  

“Sure. You givin’ up on the coffee?”

“What?”

“I usually bump into you multiple times a day in the kitchen, y’know to get our caffeine fix, the past few days you’ve not stepped foot in there.”

“That’s not true,” she said quicker than intended, had he figured her out? “I mean, kinda, I guess. Tryin’ to see if it’ll help me sleep.”

“And is it?”

“Not yet.”

“Well, good luck with that, wouldn’t be me. You need anythin’?”

“No, I’m good, thanks.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

The plate rolled in Deans hands as he strode through the halls of the bunker, an itch agitating him, but not giving up its location, leaving his brain occupied and uncomfortable. She’d fronted as herself, but he could tell she was hallow, empty and isolated.  

“What’s wrong with your face?” Sam asked, sitting perched on a chair at the table as Dean walked into the kitchen.  

“Do you think something’s up with [Y/N]?” Dean asked.

“No, she seems fine to me.”

“Something must definitely be up then,” Dean chuckled to himself as he placed the latte glass into the sink.  

“Yeah, cause you’re the master of woman,” Sam scoffed then stuffed his face full of boiled eggs.

“At least the chicks I sleep with survive.” It was a harsh comment to make and one that could have easily been taken the wrong way, but Sam burst out laughing, his loud rumble taking over the kitchen.

“You got a girl hidden in your room or somethin’? You’re awfully giddy this afternoon,” Dean side-eyed his brother suspiciously.  

“It’s the coffee,” Sam told him firmly.  

“Yeah? What’s in it?”

“Nothing, I’ve just had a few more cups than usual.”

“Is there something in the air? Everybody’s off,” Dean huffed, rummaging in the fridge for something tasty to eat.  

“I think you’re getting cabin fever,” Sam joked.

“Yeah well, if you’d hurry up and find us a case.” Dean slammed the door shut, extinguishing the light and dulling his mood.

“I’m trying Dean! There’s just— a dry spell right now, or something.”

“Sounds fishy to me, how come all the demons, ghost, witches, vampires— the whole shebang— are laying low. Somethin’s comin’ Sammy, I can feel it.”

“You’re always so pessimistic.”

“Realistic,” Dean corrected him.

“Whatever, I’m not having this argument again,” Sam said sternly, dumping his plate in the sink and leaving Dean alone with his thoughts.

[Y/N] was distressed, in turn making Dean on edge. Knowing she was trapped in her bedroom, no doubt urges pulling her under, rage and anxiety bubbling in her stomach, just the thought shot a shiver down his spine, an ache to pierce his heart.

“I’ve gotta do somethin’,” he grumbled to himself.

He tore through the bunker, directly to her room, man on a mission, determined to help her.  

Gently knocking on the ajar wooden door after lingering in the hallway like a bad smell as he planned his words, he spoke softly, “hey [Y/N].”

“What is it Dean?” her voice was quiet and wrecked.

Pushing through, he entered her room, stalking over to the bed where she sat cross legged, shoulders sunken and face dour.  

“So uh—”

“Spit it out,” she said, annoyance evident in her tone, if not at all blatant by her eye roll.

“You seem a little— antsy, on edge—“ he said, treading carefully, his weight dragged the mattress down and orbited her towards him. “Are you feeling that way—y’know, like—”

“I know what you mean Dean,” she sighed, her hands twisting in her lap, face contorting. “Yeah, I do feel that way.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No.”

“What about our deal?”

“What deal?”

“To come to me whenever you feel this way.”

“And say what?”

“Hey Dean, I’m feeling that way— I’ll know.” His eyes fell on her trembling hands. “Come with me,” his thick fingers slid over the contours of thin digits. “I’ve got an idea.”

“Oh god, that doesn’t sound good. I’ve got a better one, how about you just leave me alone instead?” her tone was a million times harsher than intended, but the effort it took to pretend to be okay wasn’t in her.

“Just— come check it out and see,” he encouraged with a squeeze of her fingers, “and if you don’t wanna do it, fine, come back down here to your hobbit hole to suffer alone, close the door and shut me out.”

“I— I’m not doing it on purpose— to you.”

“No, you’re just shutting the whole world out. Y’know you haven’t left the bunker in fifteen days, right?” his voice was slathered in nothing but concern, there wasn’t a hint of disappointment or disgust, just pure affection.  

“Yeah, I know,” defeat stole the light from her eyes.

“So how about—”

“I’m not going out!” her face strained with fear as panic bubbled in her stomach.  

“Just outside the bunker door, I’ll be there with you, every step of the way, okay?”

Her mind wandered to last time they had this kind of chat, how they’d went for a nap, Dean had stayed the night and it did make the thoughts, feelings and urges pass, but the thought of Dean touching her body, even clothed right now was revolting, made her skin crawl and want to shrivel up into herself. That wasn’t an option, but he had helped before, and maybe whatever he had planned could help this time.  

“Okay, fine,” she sighed. “I’ll go.”

“That’s my girl, c’mon, shoes on!” Dean encouraged enthusiastically as he leaped from the bed. “Meet me at the stairs, I’ve gotta grab a couple things.” Then he was gone as soon as he had appeared.

[Y/N] forced her unwilling limbs to shuffle off the bed, tears collected in her waterline as she stood in front of the large mirror, unable to keep her eyes from scanning and scrutinizing her meat suit. Bile started climbing her esophagus, her insides churning and twisting at the very sight of herself; thighs thicker, stomach rounder, biceps uncomfortably squished into her sides—

“C’mon you, what’s taking so long?” Deans head and head only popped between the wooden frame and door.  

“I’m coming— just gimme a minute,” she said, shooing him away, lowering her head to hide her tears. Pushing aside the darkness looming over her, she pulled on a pair of jeans, oversized hoodie and a pair of vans, solemnly shuffling through the bunker to find Dean holding a cardboard box at the bottom of the stairs.

“Good, you made it,” he joked.

“What’s in the box?” she asked, mockingly mimicking Brad Pitt’s character in Seven, including jazz hands.  

Dean rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t hide an appreciated half-smile flashing across his face, knowing if the roles were reversed, he would have made the same joke. “You’ll find out, c’mon.” His heavy boots crushed the metal as he ascended to the outside.  

Hesitantly, [Y/N] literally followed in his footsteps, one step at a time. The clanking racket coming from the box letting her know it was filled with glass, probably bottles, great was he gonna make her do recycling?  

Swinging the box onto his hip, Dean pushed open the heavy door, light beams burst through the opening hole, flooding her in warmth from the sun. The gentle whooshing of a soft breeze glided over her skin, the fresh air stuffing her lungs and reminding her it was late spring time.  

After climbing yet more stairs and wandering about two hundred yards from the bunker entrance, Dean came to a halt, placing the box on the ground, an empty beer bottle clutched in his hand as he rose.  

“Okay so, here’s what you’re gonna do,” he said with a wicked grin before winding his arm back, flinging it forward and letting go of the bottle which crashed against a rock and smashed into thousands of pieces. The shattering of glass disrupted the peaceful surroundings, echoing off the walls and making her stumble backwards.  

“Make a mess?” she scoffed.  

“I’ll deal with it. Just— try it. There’s a whole box here to release your aggression. It’ll make you feel better, I promise.”

“Do this often do’ya?” she snarled.

“Actually, yeah.”

Disgruntled, she wrapped her fingers around the neck of a bottle and stole it from the pile. With a light toss the bottle hit a rock and bounced a few times until finally resting on the grass untouched by any damage, not even a scratch.  

“C’mon, even Sammy can throw harder than that,” Dean said, throwing his hand in the air.  

Even more agitated, she grabbed another bottle. This time, her arm swung back, hand over her head, putting all her weight into snapping forward and releasing the glass. She watched as the bottle propelled through the air and crashed directly onto the sharp edge of a rock, the distinctive pop before disintegrating its existence sending a shiver down her spine and igniting every nerve ending.  

“That’s it!” Dean shouted proudly, encouraging her to go again.  

So she did, brown bottle, after green bottle, after clear bottle and even some blue bottles, like a machine gun she kept firing. Sweat sliding down her skin, anger rushing through her veins as the glass popped then turned into sand before her eyes. How she wished it could be her, to disappear into dust and no longer have to suffer through each grueling day.  

That particular rock had now become her own personal demon, a visage of herself, although altered, odd and uncanny. The bottles, her bullets to destroy the enemy. Rage engulfed her soul, her muscles on fire, her heart pounding as if she’d just run an entire marathon. The futileness of life was unbearably overwhelming and she unleased her monster as dark clouds rolled in from the east, slowly turning day into night and threatening to break, as did she.  

In this moment, fueled and contaminated by pure anger, she forgot Dean was there, forgot she was at the bunker, forgot she was on earth. As mental and physical exhaustion seeped in, the last bottle she had crashed down by her feet, like all the others, besides the first one, it crumbled and only left remains of a broken, useless, vessel. Much like her.  

Her shoulders shook as the barrier broke, a brutal wail ripped from her lungs, sending her to her knees. Hideously overtaken by the beast to feel pain and see blood, her open palms crashed to the ground, right one missing all the glass, somehow, although the left smashed down onto a slither of green glass and sliced open her skin. Another retched wail filled the air as her voice broke. Her anguish reaching the heavens.  

Dean frozen for a second in horror, then crashed to his knees, wrapped his arms around her and rolled over to steer clear from any glass. She squirmed and screamed between his legs, her back firmly pressed against his torso as she lashed out and cried, spreading blood everywhere.

“LET ME GO! LET ME FUCKING GO!” she writhed in hysterics, full blown screaming, torturing her vocal cords as rage ravaged her mind, body and soul.  

“Not until it’s all out,” Dean spoke softly into her ear.

“Fuck you! Fuck you, you fuckin’— I hate you, I hate you, let me go!” the demon inside pleaded to be let go, to do more damage, to feel more pain, to see more blood.  

A massive roar of thunder rumbled across the sky, followed by a clap of lightning that blinded them for a second. Uncaring for the instant heavy downpour her body thrashed and twisted, now facing his chest, but unable to get free from his grasp.

“Fuckin’ let me go— get away— it’s your fault—” her fists pounded into his chest, fingers clawing at his shoulders, blood seeping between the fabric of his shirt. Her punches weakened, her muscles aching and mind spinning. The rain lashed down as her rage faded, exhaustion now at its peak, leaving her still and numb, a dead weight in his arms.  

“What did I do?” Dean asked, his voice breaking through the downpour.  

Her heart sank, a filthy pit stirring in her stomach. “Nothing—“ she muttered, “I didn’t mean what I said. I’m sorry, I’m just—”

“Tell me,” the rain saturated his face, smoothing his hair to his head. Raindrops balancing on his long lashes and dripping down his tanned skin.  

“No.”

“[Y/N],” his tone that of a father warning their child.

“Fuck off Dean, drop it!” she shouted, her palm planting into his chest with barely any power.  

“No, I want to help,” his hands cupped her entire face, forcing her eyes to meet his.

“Well, you can’t!” a massive sigh slipped from her body, she was empty and ravaged of energy as she crumpled in his arms like a stepped-on flower. Her face buried into his neck as she wilted and sobbed, his grasp embracing her magnificently as her cries were hidden in the thunder.

“Y’know, you’d be cute when angry if you weren’t so much to handle,” Dean said, his voice quiet and soft, his warmth radiating through his touch.  

“Don’t say that,” her breath hitched as his words stabbed her like a knife.

“That you’re a lot to handle, or, that you’re cute?” his voice was playful and silly, his eyes secured on only her.  

“Shut up Dean,” she huffed, pulling away with a slightly amused but frustrated frown.  

The overwhelming urge to kiss her supple lips was too much, the rain trickling down her skin, red hair darkened and eyes bright. He wanted to replace the fear and panic with love and care, take apart her demons and rid her of them for good. Unable to control his need to save her, he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers.

Their lips fit perfectly, as if designed for one another, neither hunter moved, both overtaken by the force and power in the gentle kiss.

“D-don’t— don’t do that,” she gasped, barely creating space between them, fingers pressed to her lips to savour his taste.  

“Why not?” a shy smile flashed across his face, canines denting his plush lips.  

“Don’t— if you don’t mean it.”

He stared into her eyes, fingers around the back of her neck, thumb stroking her cheek. Pulling her forward his head tilted and lips puckered.

“Don’t fuck with me Dean, please— I can’t take it,” she said.

“Would’ya shut up and let me kiss you?”  

Despite being playful, she knew the seriousness behind his humour, his true emotions shining through his insecurities. Closing her eyes, she leaned in, ready to accept his love.

This time when their lips met, a lightning bolt fired between them, triggering a wave of lust and months of pining to crash together in this dark and trying time. At first it was needy and rushed, as if time was running out, but then, she pulled back for air and rested her forehead against his, as if they had forever to stay in this moment.  

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, so low she barely caught it.

“For what?”

“I thought— this would help, but—”

“It did,” her fingertips pressed into his skin as she pushed in closer.

“But you got hurt.”

“It’s minor and superficial, nothing to worry about— I should be the one saying sorry.”

Dean broke their embrace, pushing her at arm's length to analyse her face. “Why?”

“Because you— have to deal with me and— my mess,” she admitted, eyes falling to the necklace hanging on his chest.

“And you don’t deal with mine?” Dean scoffed, almost offended. “I don’t care what it is [Y/N], okay? I’m here for you, through it all.” His hand once again captured her face, guiding her eyes to his. “You hear me?”

“Heard.”

“Good,” he said, clutching her face tighter, “c’mon, let’s get inside an’ patch you up.”

“Thank-you Dean,” she whispered, her voice breaking as an avalanche of emotions attacked her.

He kissed her forehead then rose to his feet, holding out his hand to help her up. Just as quickly as the rain had started, it stopped, the dark clouds already passed over, heading for the next town to descend its wrath upon. But that was love right? Love prevailed through anything.

#dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester fanfic #fanfic #comfort fic #trigger warnings tho!!! #come to me #part 2

[l0vemenormally]

WHAT IS 8:11 PLEASE EXPLAIN TO WHAT THAT GAME IS GO FULL LORE IM BORED..

OH MY GOD my autsim has been triggered ofc ill explain

8:11 is a rpgmaker horror game by dubuk :3 you play as ryker dublin a french priest who gets caught in the rain with their friend Leon and has to take shelter in an abandoned church cuz of the hard rain BUT..... smth bad happens

SPOILER FOR THE FULL GAME FROM HERE ON!!!!

While theyre exploring the abandoned church Leon is killed by a guy name Dante, and is mangled... kinda bad from it, but anywaud. Ryker finds Leon injured as he is abt to get killed and Leon intrusts his very special Bible to them that only Leon is able to read as anyone else who reads it dies (or is injured in some way, depends on how much they read), and tells ryker not to open the Bible no matter what until Leon tells them to. So Leon dies and ryker finds out that he has ties to a place called Rosso Cadare, specifically the basilica there, a few years later ryker travels to the Rosso Cadare and meets two fellows named Juliek and Accardi (theyre more important later, forget abt them rn), and then heads to the basilica (which is abandoned by now btw) then meeting Vittorino, who is a priest who lives there and is not very happy abt ryker being the the basilica and tells them to get out (vittorino is a bit... off his rocker), ryker then leaves and gets hit by accardi who was drunk driving, ryker can not go the hospital however bc their too broke and have no health-care (due to the fact they don't live rosso cadare) so accardi just takes him home. I'm not gonna explain ALL of the lore in detail bc its a little complicated and there's a bunch of other lore with certain characters SO I'm gonna tell u abt some of the characeters!!!

Accardi is cannonically implied to be a cannibal as he's had dreams where ate his father before and also says he gets "hungry" when looking at a corpse. Him and ryker are cannonical love interests, they go on a little bar date and accardi asked bascially if he can kiss ryker, he sews up rykers mouth for them, ryker also gives him an orange (in rosso oranges represent love and giving an orange to someone is basically saying "I love you" to them), accardi also used to date juliek but they are no longer dating. Accardi also has an interest and surgerical procedures and even performs an illegal surgery on someone (him sewing up rykers mouth as I mentioned), he also likes antique furniture :3

Juliek speaks atleast several(?) Languages fluently I'm pretty sure and used to work as a translator for people in rosso, juliek also has a daughter whose around 7 I think?? And An ex wife named Susan.

Vittorino hates rabbits as the basilica in its earlier days was very crowded and people would call them "rabbits" due to how they were packed in. After finding ryker in the basilica for either the second or third time he rips out 3 of their wisdom teeth while laying on their ribs (as to hurt them as ryker was already injured before this), he only pulls out three of rykers wisdom teeth as "3 is a very unlucky number"/quote

gabriel is seen at the beginning of the game but then dies due to reading Leon's bible, je appears later in the game seemingly reborn as before he was a business man and now he is an detective, he has terrible memory problems and gets rykers name wrong about twice i believe, he also only shaves half his face, wears his tie backwards, and wears two watches (by mistake)

BUT YEAH!!! that's a bit abt 8:11, I would recommend u go check it out if ur interested it's such a silly game!!!! :3

#811 game #811 lore dump!!! #autism won today. #🃏

[tower-of-erinyes]

F in the Chat | Ch 1 Body Reaction | Dante

For the past few days, Dante hasn't been out and about very much -- likely because they had absolutely no clothes that were appropriate for the cold. When they do arrive at the scene a touch late, it's clear that it was because they were doing their best to do their hair and to apply the black lipstick they had. They even took the time to use the lipstick to make the little heart smudges under their eyes. It's better than nothing, they figure, but even after days without a full face of makeup they still feel uncomfortable without it.

Even though it's warmer already, they still wear the one pair of pants they have and an actually full shirt rather than a crop top.

Stepping into the room, though, Dante stops. Was she sleeping...? No.

No, that was a dead body.

It takes a moment, but they snap into action. Their phone had a little bit battery left, so they pull it out , pop on the camera, and hit record. A filter helps them at least look like they have some sort of foundation, at least.

"Hello!" They make a peace sign. "I don't know when I'll get around to posting this, but my stay in the Tower of Hell is heating up. So. We like, have heat again, but that's because someone literally died. I'm not fucking with you, it's not clickbait, like..."

Dante turns, keeping their phone at the same level (and keeping them in the shot) to show Tsukiko in the background. "Out of respect, I'm going to blur her face, but this---" Abruptly, the recording stops, and the screen flashes a 0% before going black.

"Wait, wait wait, this can't be happening!" They pull it closer and start hitting the power button, trying to turn it back on... but it doesn't work, just momentarily flashing the same dead battery warning.

Their phone... was dead.

It had only been a matter of time, but they had thought it would hold out maybe the rest of the day, since there wasn't much use for it here besides pics and videos. But now, it was dead. Totally lifeless, right in front of them, and something in their throat feels tight as they numbly slide their phone back into their pocket.

This. Was. Awful.

Now there was no way for anyone to contact them until they could get it charged, no chance to call for the police or anyone to help. No way to try messaging their brother again. They were truly in a dead zone.

And on top of all of that, there was a corpse, a real live corpse right there. What the fuck.

#submission #dante

[blueheartedmayor]

OOC:

#I am having THOUGHTS in work #I remember reading a theory suggesting that while the viewer escaped #they actually did so through what was left of C.eline's body and not Mark's. #since her body was too weak to safely carry both twins it was never considered #so... I think I might have it that by 'default' - meaning not taking anyone else's interpretations into account - #the viewer is still in the mirror; but if/when they escape it would be with the Seer's corrupted corpse #since not only is Mark's body too fragile; Dante's soul is still attached to it so it likely wouldn't co-operate #BUT. If there was a way for Dante to pull that corpse out and take it so the viewer could reclaim their body he would do it in a heartbeat #after all most of his pains are from the OTHER body; not the one he's currently in #(back to work I go)

[wow-thisismylifeiguess]

I think I’ll forever be stuck on the fact that Dante is traumatized over Vergil’s death.

They’re in hell together and Dante can’t get over the fact that Vergil is in front of him, living and breathing. After the first few fights, they’ve got a lot of their pent up aggression out, and now...now Dante can’t help but just stare. They’re taking a break, surrounded by the corpses of dead demons, slick with their blood. Dante leans against a wall and watches as his brother slides down to sit, using the Yamato as a brace. Dante knows he doesn’t mean to, but Vergil slips off into something of a light doze, and it lets his brother stare to his hearts content.

Vergil looks surprisingly good. Different, but good. He looks healthy, his skin flushed from a long fight, and Dante can’t help but pay particular attention to the way his brother’s chest rises and drops, his breaths deep and even. He’s /alive/. Not half contained in a suit of armor, forced to fight for the demon that enslaved him. Not holding his half broken body together with nothing more than sheer willpower and hatred. Not falling into hell alone, leaving his only family to watch w tears running unabashedly down his cheeks.

Dante let’s out a sound of relief. He stalks over, moving carefully as to not startle his brother, and drops down to his knees in front of him. He leans forward, hands shaking, and places a palm over Vergil’s chest, feeling his breath and heat, memorizing what it feels like, reminding himself that he’s not imagining this, that Vergil really is okay, he’s alive. He’s alive. He’s /alive/.

Vergil wakes up to Dante asleep on his shoulder. They’re sitting side by side, Dante’s legs pulled up to his chest as he tilts his head onto his brother’s arm for support. It reminds him briefly of whem they were kids. Of the nights Dante would have nightmares of them being separated, and the only way to calm him down would be to let him sleep in Vergil’s bed. Dante would glue himself to his brother, making sure they had some sort of skin to skin contact. If Vergil moved even the slightest inch away, Dante would be awake, asking his brother if he was okay, searching for reassurances that they’re both still together.

Vergil doesn’t move. He’s got his rest, but he figures Dante deserves his own as well. Hesitantly, he brings an arm over Dante’s shoulders, pulling him in closer.

Dante’s not the only one who missed his brother.

#found this in my drafts and I wonder why I never posted it #vergil not waking up despite dante being so close because at this point he’s built up innate trust for him again despite the fact that he’ll #never admit it out loud #dante #vergil #devil may cry #my post

[digital-dhampirs]

I think that he next chapter will start with Vanitas realizing what he just did to Noé. I think that he wasn't fully himself during the chapter 51 and that the awakening will be horrible. What do you think?

For the sake of my sanity, I feel like the chapter needs to start with an answer to Domi’s question in 51.5– is Noé ok? The last panel of 51 was an intense cliffhanger— how much damage has Noé taken? Did he get stabbed, or straight up cut in half? We saw him survive a giant explosion and logically he doesn’t die here but the way the panel is chopped in half is very very concerning.

So... I think chapter 52 will have to start with whatever happened to Noé. Vanitas will probably back away like he does after the giant explosion, breathing hard and then staring at Noé with a blank look on his face, something like that. I do think that Vanitas doesn’t want to kill Noé, and will eventually regret what he does/ thinks he did... but I don’t think Vanitas will feel any regret in the moment. He’s done some drugs, he’s nearly died multiple times, and— even worse than that— Noé almost stole Vanitas’s memories, something Vani seems to see as completely unforgivable.

Vanitas is pumped up on adrenaline and drugs, furious at Noé, and a complete emotional wreck (just for starters, he didn’t even know Mikhail was alive until right then and there). I don’t think Vani is in the right state of mind for regrets or reflection. That’ll probably take a while to hit him.

If I had to make a guess in the dark for chapter 52... I think that Vanitas will stare at what he thinks is Noé’s corpse for a moment before realizing Noé is still breathing. Noé is no longer a threat and is obviously unable to fight, but Vanitas pulls out his gun and aims at Noé... before he’s interrupted by someone (Jeanne? Dante? uhhh... other?) and flees. Mikhail follows Vanitas, bringing Domi with him, and leaves Noé to be found and brought back to Amelia and the dhams.

Another option I could see happening is... Vanitas notices that Noé isn’t dead, but decides to either escape immediately or try and kill Mikhail. Or maybe seeing Noé “die” will shock Dominique into breaking Mikhail’s mind control and she’ll attack an off- guard Vanitas. Or maybe the Teacher shows up and is like “hey you can’t do that to my prized experiment”; or Mikhail is annoyed by Noé’s failure to complete his mission and tries to make him get up by threatening to kill Domi; or something else....

One possibility I think would be really cool (and really sad) would be Jeanne arriving just in time to see the man she’s in love with brutally “kill” his friend. I don’t think this will happen (my red herring radar is going off the charts looking at Luca’s “could you do me a favor”), but it would be so heart- wrenching to watch Jeanne struggle with Vanitas’s actions and try to figure out how to help Domi and Noé.

These are just a handful of a whoooole lot of possibilities as for what chapter 52 could be about.... and I am completely absolutely sure every one of these possibilities is wrong! I’m just making vague guesses about where moving pieces could go,, no matter what, I’m sure whatever mochijun has in store for us is gonna be great.

#vanitas no carte #the case study of vanitas #vnc #vnc spoilers

[pettyprocrastination]

The name she gave you for herself was obviously fake. She doesn’t react right when you say it and it takes a second for her to respond, like she has to remind herself to do so.

But her boy was so small he probably couldn’t remember to use a different name. So she gave you his real one.

Dante.

His mother gave you all one warning before she brought him in.

“You do anything to hurt him, you tell anyone we are here, your corpse will decorate the rafters before nightfall.”

A mother’s wrath is something you know not to mess with. While you have no bastards of your own, you’ve seen the other women at the brothel go almost feral to protect their children.

So you take her at her word.

The first thing you see of him is a tuff of curls poking from the cloak wrapped around him, useful for the brisk Dornish nights.

But as he wiggles about and the cloak slips down, and you see that the curls don’t stop where they should.

They continue down between his shoulders before fading and tapering out.

One of the girls speaks, “He’s rather hairy.”

His mother hums nonchalantly, but you know it’s a threat.

Finally his face turns and the air in the room instantly changes.

He looks like a little calf, like the cattle from the north. A big nose that’s really more of a snout, fluffy ears that are flicking with nerves, and big black eyes filled with fear.

Frankly you think he’s adorable, albeit a tad odd.

“That’s you-“

His mother glares and the girl shuts up. She’s young and she’s new, she still needs to work on keeping her thoughts to herself.

“Hello,” you raise your hand and give a little wave, “good sleeping sun to you.”

The boy tilts his head in confusion, making one of his ears flop around.

“What’s your name darling?”

He blinks, and you realize he doesn’t understand Dornish.

They really are very far from home.

“Hello,” his eyes widen and he grabs at some hair behind his mother’s ear.

“This is Dante,” she shifts her grip on the boy and speaks to him, “would you like to say hello?”

He hesitates, before waving with the hand not currently in his mother’s hair, “Hi.”

His voice is small, but it still bellows as if coming from his chest.

Taking a step forward you introduce yourself. He’s still anxious, obvious with his flicking ears and the small noises coming from the back of his throat.

But you already know he’ll be fine.

You and his mother will make sure of it.

———

You all rotate child watching duty, unless one of the girls is obviously pregnant then she’s in charge of keeping an eye on the kids.

But since no one seems to be expecting, it’s your turn to watch the children.

It’s going rather well you think, no one’s crying, no one’s left alone, everything seems to be running smoothly.

Until you hear it.

It’s like crying but more animalistic, the sobs coming out with a hiccuping bleat.

One of the children is already running to you.

She slams right into your legs before grabbing at your clothes and trying to run back to where she came from.

“It wasn’t- and a bucket fell- and he- he!”

The little girl sounds close to tears herself.

Picking her up is easy, running over to where she’s pointing is a bit difficult, but that’s because she’s leaning forward and pointing as if that will make you go faster.

Finally you see the problem.

Dante is soaking wet and there’s an empty bucket on its side nearby.

Putting the little girl down you rush to the boy. He’s sobbing and screaming his lungs out and you remember his mother said only she could bathe him. He’s afraid of water.

“Hey, hey, Dante,” you crouch down and hold your hands out, not yet touching him because you have no idea what he’ll do if you try.

“Dante, honeysuckle, it’s okay, you’re okay.”

He sniffs and his entire nose scrunches up at the action.

“I wan’ Mama!”

Someone taps your shoulder, it’s one of the older children and they’re holding out a towel.

“Thank you.”

Looking back at Dante you try to think of a way to calm him down, his mother is busy at the moment.

“Dante, sweetie, do you want to help make lunch? We have some mangos.”

That gets his attention.

He’s still shaking and crying, but no where near as loudly as before.

“Can I ‘ave some?”

You bite your lip, because his mother told you not to give him too many snacks between proper meals. But it’s also got him to calm down, so you’ll deal with his mother.

“Half a mango at most.”

His face scrunches in what you’ve learned is frustration, but he nods anyway.

“Alright then, but before we do that, you have to get dry.”

He makes another face but stands up, spreading his arms out and waiting.

He’s covered in a layer of hair, all of it soft with a bit of a curl, and as you dry him off his fur sticks up at all ends.

“Alright, now your noggin.”

He steps closer and tilts his head down.

“Ready?”

He makes a confused face but nods. It’s good to know he trusts you.

You drape the towel over his head, before placing your hands on his head and vigorously rub him dry.

“Ah-Ah-Ah-Ah.”

You can’t help but laugh at the noise he makes as his head wiggles with your ministrations.

“And… done!” With a flourish you pull the towel away from his head, revealing the puff ball you have turned it into.

His sticks his tongue out.

“Can you see?”

He shakes his head.

You run your fingers through his hair, pushing it back and away from his face. As you finish you feel two small bumps right behind his hairline. You’ll have to ask his mother about that.

“There’s the beautiful boy!”

He makes a happy noise before jumping up and down.

“Mango, mango, mango!”

The other kids who were standing back begin joining in on his chanting.

“MANGO! MANGO! MANGO!”

You know they’re just doing it to make him feel better, because you see at least three children you know hate fruit shouting along.

Taking in a deep breath you stand, and begin leading your little parade back to prepare lunch.

I want to see my little boy~

HERE HE COMES!

IM GOING TO CRY?? HELLO?? NOTE YOURE SO AMAZING!!

Dante absolutely is untrusting of others at first, he's so used to only being with his mother but i cant help but think of him with the other children at the brothel. All of them are sworn to keep the secret, even as children who love to tattle they swear to keep the odd little boy hidden. He may experience a touch of bullying at first because many are bothered by his mere existence, but then comes the sweet children who tie ribbons on his tail and gentle reach out to pat his head with a giggle of "you're so soft! I wish my hair was that pretty."

His mother coming home after a tiring day of work with bruises hidden beneath her dress to find her son cuddled up to another child, both with tangled arms and half open mouths as they snore and she smiles.

This right here, the darling little boy who made a friend that he played with until they were too tired, is the reason she does it all.

#submission #dante tag #note tag #I LOVE YOUUUU

[alighieri-sparda]

A stinky devil and bath thoughts | Vergil x M!Reader

Summary: Vergil is all yours again. You decide to give him a relaxing bath to ease his mind — and get rid of that stinky smell of demonic creatures after a few months in Hell.

Masterlist | Rules | A simple gift for @mooshs-crack-headcanons

Happy birthday! And this time, with the real gift. xD I hope you enjoy this fluffy piece I wrote for you. I wish I could give you something better, but that’s what I got :’D You deserve only the best, Paul. You know it.~

It’s important to mention that I got the most of inspiration for this work from the ‘Washing a Devil’ series by Chrome, specially from this particular chapter. So, please, if you guys haven’t read it yet, please do! It’s really lovely.

Lots of a passionate Vergil under the cut. 

- - - - - -

Vergil is finally back. Back to the place he could always call home, the safest spot in the world for him: your gentle and comfortable arms. Vergil is finally back. Back to the place he could always call home, the safest spot in the world for him: your gentle and comfortable arms. 

When he crossed the front door of your house, the first thing you did before saying anything was holding him closely, kissing those soft lips of his you missed after several months without his presence. Vergil is your safe spot as much as you are his, and now you both feel complete.

However, something started to bother both of you when you separated the kiss: the smell of demon guts and sweat was not the most welcoming in the world. You didn’t mention it at first, but Vergil quickly realized how unfortunate this condition would be for you both and suggested to take a bath before doing anything else.

“Let me wash you then.” You smiled, your words sounded so pure and heartwarming to the half demon’s ears that he couldn’t help smiling as well.

[...]

You slide your hands down Vergil’s strong arms, taking the collar of his coat as a starting point to make his black piece of cloth fall on the floor. Then, you go to his buttoned shirt, unfastening it at a gentle pace. Your eyes gradually catch the sight of his torso as the shirt is unbuttoned, and you can’t stop admiring how gorgeous this man looks even so stinky and dirty.  

The man under your touch observes your actions in a calm state of mind which he hadn’t seen himself feeling in years. You had been waiting for him for months straight, and yet you don’t hesitate in slowing things down just to admire his presence, enjoying every inch of his body and every spectrum of his personality. A tranquil gaze rests on his eyes because he knows he’s safe with you. There’s no need to rush things.

Once the last button is finally unclasped, you let it fall over his arms, letting it join his coat on the floor. Vergil looks almost ashamed of looking like that; his torso is all grimy, even supposedly protected by his layers of clothes. You, on the other hand, don’t mind at all. The smile that draws onto your lips evidences your actual enjoyment of that situation. 

“How can you smile at this filthy situation of mine?” Vergil chuckles when he notices the happy tilt of your lips.

“Because I’m about to have a lot of fun washing you.” You explain, visibly excited for what is going to happen next. 

Vergil sighs as he watches your hands go to his belt and undo it in a blink of an eye, throwing it out of his waistband just as rapidly as you ease the grip of his pants around his hips. You welcome his relieved reactions with a kiss on his cheek.

“You’re enjoying it, aren’t you?” He asks, smirking at your playful expression.

“How couldn’t I enjoy you, Vergil?” You say as your fingers hook the waistband of his pants and his underwear at the same time, pulling them down in one single movement. He suddenly gets exposed, and it scares him a little bit. Even if it’s under your sight.

Instead of grinning back at Vergil’s perceptible shudder, however, you only smile softly, comforting him.

“Now let’s get you cleaned.”

Then you kiss his cheek again, encouraging him to keep going with that. It isn’t like he wasn’t enjoying it though.

In a few steps, Vergil sits in the bathtub previously prepared by you with a medium warm water level. He lets a heavy breath out of his lungs when he starts feeling cleansed after months stinking like demonic corpses. The smell is really not good, but you ignore it as much as you can. It’s not his fault anyway.

You turn the faucet that indicates hot water while bringing the bottle of shampoo and soap closer to your reach with your other hand. The sound of water falling and mixing with the one already in the bathtub fills the bathroom. When the water level rises enough, you turn off the faucet.

In the meantime, Vergil has closed his eyes, taking the opportunity to relax his muscles and enjoy being under your care again. The sweet smell of the soap and shampoo already enters his nostrils; he exhales at the good sensation being intensified by his temporary privation of sight. Then, he groans satisfied when the hot water suddenly falls on his scalp. Vergil wasn’t really paying much attention to the sounds around him.

Once you sit beside the bathtub, you pay attention to his head and face firstly. You let the water do the primary and simpler work as you gently rub your fingertips all over his face, cleansing the dirt stuck to his skin and some thin lines of dried blood all over his cheeks, jawline, and nose bridge. He leans his head back at your personal touch, sighing quietly.

“You look so beautiful.” You whisper unconsciously. 

Vergil doesn’t seem to notice your compliment. His eyes are still closed and his chest slowly moves up and down. You can tell he’s enjoying it.

After you’re done cleaning his face, your hands now reach his neck and shoulders. This time, instead of just rubbing only your fingertips on his skin, you use your entire palm to massage and cleanse the superficial dirt at the same time. Vergil’s muscles get a little tensioned when you first touch them, but he quickly relaxes them again against your gentle touch. Another satisfied groan says it all.

“I thought you wouldn’t accept me back, [Name].” He suddenly says, blinking slowly his eyes and looking at you after some time. “When Dante and I came back, I’ve already started to think that I would have to live with my brother. And I almost locked myself back in Hell again.”

You chuckle while you don’t stop the movements on his shoulders.

“I’d never let you do it to yourself, Vergil,” You giggle. Now, you take the shampoo bottle in your hands and squeeze it, letting a generous amount of shampoo fall on Vergil’s hair. Putting it back in place, your fingers finally run through his strands of hair, massaging and scouring his scalp. “Besides, being stuck in Hell wasn’t your fault. It’d be unfair not accepting you back.”

“Well… It actually was.” He answers in a more serious tone. “The Qliphoth only raised under my command, due to my uncontrollable pursuit of power. I don’t even deserve to be here, to begin with.”

Your fingers stop the massage for a while. One of your hands now touches the back of his neck as the other one gently fondles his cheek.

“But now it is in the past. You’ve certainly made mistakes through your path, everyone does at some point, but you’re here with me now. And that’s the only thing that matters.” You whisper. Unlike the past two times, now you prefer to kiss his soft lips instead of his cheek. A comforting peck to remind him how important he is to you. To remember he’s safe now.

You slide your hands over his damp skin, putting them back on his scalp once more. Vergil just sighs, clearly affected by your lovely words.

The grunts of satisfaction that Vergil lets out while you clean his hair make you want to stay that way forever, just listening to the sounds of his satisfaction as you enjoy the caress that you know he likes best, but you have more work to do.

That being said, you finally wash the shampoo away from his scalp, still massaging it to be sure you cleaned it completely. While your hands do the cleansing part, you observe Vergil’s expression again: he’s just like he was before talking to you, eyes closed and relaxed face. Another unconscious smile draws onto your lips. 

Your intention with all this is not only to clean him but also make him relax as much as you can. Because of that, you soap your hands and massage the skin of his face, neck, and shoulders with the soap that remains on your palms instead of scrubbing it directly on his body. Vergil visibly appreciates your action, taking a short breath as he feels the good smell of the soap purifying his body.

“[Name],” He mumbles your name suddenly. Probably asking for your attention.

“Hm?”

“Do you recall a tattooed man knocking on your door sometime before the incident?”

You can’t help but smile when you listen to his words. His point is already clear for you.

“Yeah, I do.” You answer as you keep your hand movements. Your fingers are now finishing up his shoulders area, just taking the opportunity to relieve the tension that remains in his muscles. “I almost couldn’t believe it when he said he was you.”

“But I knew you would do so.” A gentle smile crossed his face. “Besides thinking about my family, when I saw myself that incomplete, another important thought crossed my mind: checking if you were doing well. If my lack of presence didn’t put you into any dangerous situations.”

He searched one of your soaped hands, kissing the back of it. 

“I wanted to kiss you so much on that day. But you would fairly refuse my request.”

“Thanks for being aware of it,” You chuckle, embracing his shoulders even outside of the bathtub. “But I need to confess that seeing you as a smaller and more fragile man than me was a lovely sight.”

“Oh, you think so?” This time, the smile on his lips gets a more teasing tone. “How cute. But, honestly, I prefer to see you like the pretty fragile man here.”

“I know that.” You giggle in response. Then, you leave the embrace to catch the soap once more while you move your gaze all around the bathtub, looking for a good spot to position yourself for the next step of the bath. “Now I need to wash the rest of your body, but I can’t find any good position to do it.”

“Allow me to facilitate the things for you then.”

When Vergil says this, you first think that he would reposition his body in the bathtub to make your work easier somehow — and he did move, but not with the intentions you thought he would have. There is no time for you to react: in the blink of an eye, Vergil pulls you into the bathtub. You would be impressed, but Vergil is a half-demon after all. He always has at least a little bit of strength guarded in case he needs it.

“Hey--!” You even try to scold him, but it is in vain. When you come to your senses, you’re sitting on his lap, and your clothes are now sticking to your skin due to their soaking. When did he get that cheeky?

“So, is it better for you now?” You haven’t seen that playful grin in months. Although the situation is not the most satisfying in the world now — soaked clothes are not comfortable at all —, you can’t complain about it. It only shows you how much he missed your presence. 

“You…!” The laugh that comes up to your throat can’t be helped at all. “Jeez, you could have asked me for a shared bath before!” You didn’t mean to have one, but if that’s what he wants, now you have no choice but to give it to him. 

“Stop complaining and take off these soaked clothes.”

He didn’t even need to ask you this, to begin with. You don’t get out of the bathtub to take them off, just getting rid of them quickly and then throwing them to the same point where Vergil’s clothes were left before. 

Once you are completely bare, Vergil gives you no time to react again: he kisses your lips passionately as he lets his hands explore your body freely; his smooth yet audacious hands make your body shiver in surprise, feeling his fingertips reach your chest, back and then your waist, the place he rests his arms around when you separate the kiss.

“I missed you.” He whispers against your lips, holding you even closer as you embrace his shoulders once more, but this time it feels a lot better. Vergil has never been this talkative before, even with you, so this sentence of his is already proved to you due to his previous attitudes. 

You whisper as sincerely as he did: “I missed you too.” 

Vergil slowly puts himself back in his previous position, forcing you to break that embrace. His gaze follows your body up and down as he comforts your legs across his lap.

“Now you can finish your work.” He smiles at you softly.

The next couple of minutes are all about you doing to his chest, back and arms the same as you did previously, gently removing the superficial dirt with your fingers, letting the water help you with that. Your touches keep the intimate intention by massaging his muscles and cleansing them with the soap in your palms as a happy smile crosses your face every time you hear a satisfied or relaxed hum coming from him.

Although the relaxation you provided him during this whole process, you notice that Vergil is still awake when you announce that you’re done with his bath. He blinks slowly after minutes straight with his eyes closed, looking directly at you again. 

Before he can say anything, it’s now your turn to surprise him with a kiss. Vergil looks so adorable under your care, with his guard completely off and heart opened, just for you.

“You smell so good now.” You giggle against his lips after this last kiss.

“Thanks to you, of course.” He winks.

“Listen, I could stay like that with you all night long, but I prefer our bedroom to do so.” You slowly get out of the bathtub, taking the towel in your hands on your way. “You can get up now. I’ll just get some dry and clean clothes for us both.”

Once you’re standing beside the bathtub and move your body to go to your bedroom, a strong hand grabs your wrist, stopping you where you are.

“I surely can leave the bathtub. But I need to do something before wearing any clothes.”

Your night is far away from finishing there because Vergil did miss you. In all of your ways.

#dmc #devil may cry #dmc imagines #devil may cry imagines #devil may cry x reader #dmc vergil #vergil x reader

[occasionaloneshots]

Ring- zNation

younger brother! 10K, wife! Georgia, female reader 

CW: Mentions death, explosions (all canon related) some-what angst, minor swearing

In which she only knew he was  her brother when he recognized an old ring and she didn’t truly recognize him until weeks later. 

Word Count: 1644

    The urgent steps of the short haired woman quickly caught the attention of her wife, leather jacket flying up behind her slightly as she walks. The other woman’s eyes follow her, eyes lifting from the speech she was editing. “Georgie?” She jumps up from her seat, “What’s wrong?” “Talkers at the welcome center. They’re hungry and the center doesn’t have any bizcuits.” The dark haired woman blows a kiss to her wife as she speeds out of the building. Sliding the pencil and speech into her pocket (Y/N) stands up from the table, heading for the double doors that her wife ran out of moments before. A new set of arrivals wasn’t something new for Altura, this happens pretty often, and (Y/N) has desperate hope every single time one does. 

       Head of Pacifica security heads over to the quarantine station of the bigger outpost. She knew it was a slim chance, yet every time there was new arrivals she had the need to check for the boy. Twisting the ring on her right finger, the woman waited patiently for the truckload to return her wife and bring in a new shipment of dirty, tired faces. Her nervous eyes search the area around her, a few welcome committee members give her a gentle smile, others shaking their head in exhaustion. Eight years of apocalypse couldn’t shake her belief that her family is out there. Anyone other than Dante and Georgia would call her hopeless for still believing but (Y/N)’s intuition had never failed them. If her gut told her they were still out there, the two would believe her until the end. 

       Nervous summersaults enter the girl’s stomach as a vehicle comes into her sight line. “Don’t get your hopes up,” the woman whispers to herself, toying with the piece of metal on her finger. A kind voice speaks to a doctor, telling him that he and his friends had to go through quarantine before gaining citizenship. (Y/N)’s eyes search the group, one face catching her eye. He was too far for her to tell for sure, but the woman swore she recognized him. Georgia leaves the group, making her way to the woman. “One day playing with your ring like that is going to make it get stuck,” she chuckles, kissing the worried woman on her forehead. Shaking her head, (Y/N) leans into her lover’s side, “I’m just  nervous.” Rubbing a hand up the soft material of her wife’s sweater Georgia frowns, “Did the feeling go away?” “No, no, I’m still sure someone is out there,” she bites her lip, “I just, feel like I know that guy, the dark haired one you just brought in. I can’t place him though like it’s been years since I passed him in a crowd or something.” 

       “After he gets through quarantine, you and I can go talk to him together okay?” “That would be great,” she pulls the speech out of her pocket, handing it and the pencil to the woman on her side, “You need an opener, a joke or something to get people’s attention.” “You are an angel,” George laughs, pressing another kiss to her forehead.  “I try,” she teases, smiling over at the woman. “His name is Ten Thousand, if that helps.” “That’s a number, not a name. What was he before the apocalypse? A government experiment?” 

      (Y/N) waiting patiently for the quarantine process to end on the new arrivals, it felt like someone had their eyes on her the whole time. The feeling made her stomach feel like it was churning, the nerves killing her. George’s hand on her back lead her over to the group. She learned that the doctor Georgia was speaking to wasn’t a doctor but more of a therapist turned drug dealer from a small conversation. The short woman with him, Sargent Muller was a sweet girl, a fellow marine from before the world fell apart. The whole time she spoke to them, she twirled the ring, cutting eyes at the boy. He was glaring at her hands watching the metal and gems spin. 

        “Where the hell did you get that,” it was the first thing he said  and it felt as if he spit it at her. “Pardon?” The girl tucked herself into her wife’s side, the voice made him even more familiar but the anger in his tone was something she didn’t expect. “Where did you get that ring? You steal it off a corpse or something?” His face was full of disgust as he snatched her hand up. The stranger stared at the silver flower, eying the center gems. 4, his birthstone, his ma’s. his pa’s, and (Y/N)’s. “It was a gift from my mother, thank you,” She scoffs, yanking her hand back. For the first time she took a good look at his face. She knew those eyes anywhere, they were her mother’s, the scar in his eyebrow from where he got hit by a hunter’s knife as it slipped from her hand. And suddenly, she didn’t have to trust the feeling anymore, her brother was most definitely alive. George moves to step between the two, not liking the way the stranger roughly snapped her wife’s hand up. She’s shocked to feel the other woman shove her to the side, hugging the man suddenly, “Tomcat!” The male’s body jolts at the impact, pushing her off slightly, “(Y/N)?” She slumps her shoulders, affected by the rejected hug from her once clingy brother, “Yeah, it’s good to see you.” 

                                                          -----

     (Y/n)’s back is pressed against the side of the building, trying to ignore everything happening in the building. She feels guilt already building  in her stomach for being out in the grass while the woman she loves gives a speech she promised to be there for,  but being in there feels impossible. Hot tears burn her eyes as she stares into the distance, eyes unfocused. “Hey,” the voice catches her attention, her eyes refocusing on the frame that appeared before her, “You missed an amazing speech you know.” “Yeah, she’s good at them, you should hear her when she has to give a speech on the spot,” her voice is slightly hoarse as she looks up at him. “So uh,” he waves to the ground beside her, “Mind if I join you?” “Go ahead, 10k,” she lets out a half-assed chuckle. 

    Hearing his chosen name in her voice stung like venom as he sits down beside her. “You know, in fourteen years of living with you, I don’t think I can ever remember you crying, (Y/n/n).” She sniffles, smiling at the old nickname, “Well, you were the clingy family softy back then and I was the heartless one, remember?” “You were never heartless.” “Fourteen year old you felt different. You know the last thing I said to you was ‘the world won’t end while I’m gone’. It’s almost hilarious the way the world works like that,” she toys with the hem of her shirt as she talks. “Yeah, and I told you eight months might as well been eight years, look where we are now.” She laughs, leaning into his side, “What the hell happened to us?” “The real question is, why are you out here? I don’t know much about Georgia, but she seems pretty good to you.”

      “She’s amazing, too good to everyone sometimes if we’re all honest. All about trust and second chances. Georgia can really give you insight into your own humanity you know? I lost mine for a while, then there was her.” He nods, “Yeah I think we all lost ours a some point.” “Not her though, and I’m so proud of her, but the idea of walking back into that room made me feel sick.” “You know he can’t hurt her again, right?” She nods, her head falling back, “I know, but last time I was in there I was laughing with Dante, we were planning a double date to celebrate that the vote went through until he had to leave. Now he and Marge are dead, my wife has a black eye and a busted lip, and I couldn’t protect either of them, or you.” “My hand wasn’t your fault, you weren’t here. You didn’t kill Dante, or torture George. That’s not your fault.” “No, Ten, how long were you alone out there before your team found you? You lost Ma and Pa and I was with Lieutenant Dante looking for his wife states away. I should have gone looking for you the moment the apocalypse started, fuck my orders.”

       “You knew Dante a long time?” “I did, he was my Lieutenant until we got separated in Colorado four years ago. I just headed North from there, found Georgia, and trusted my gut that I would run into you instead of looking for you.” “Stop blaming yourself for me being alone, I grew up (Y/N). And we found each other eventually.” She fought a laugh, the person she knew as her brother was lost, she would have to find comfort in the new person who occupied his body. She never expected him to be the kid she left alone years before but she never imagined he’d be like this now. “I guess we did, Tomcat.” The dark haired male laughs, standing up and offering her his hand, “Now, let’s get you to your wife. You need to properly introduce me to my sister in law.” She laughs, taking his hand, “Thanks for being cool about that by the way. Pa would have lost it the moment he saw us together.” “We always had each other’s backs, it was the ruling of not getting in trouble with Pa,” the boy laughs, pulling her up from the ground. And for that moment, he was Tommy. 

#z nation #10k #10kimagine #georgia st. claire #znation imagines #George st. Claire #sibling imagine #apocolypse

[ssson-of-sparda]

A TRIP TO THE BEACH - PART 2 (DANTE X FEM!READER)

Summary: When Dante shows up, Patty finally learns how things ended between Y/N and him but that's not the kind of ending she likes. (Part 5 of A Tab To Erase) (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

Tags: Dante is Tony Redgrave / Love / Angst / Blood and Gore / Minor Character Death / Violence

Author’s note: This is the end! I hope you enjoyed this fan fiction as much as I enjoyed writing it. I can't wait to read your thoughts about it. Is it the end you expected? How did you imagine it? Tell me everything. I'm all ears

Patty dared peeping from above the headrest of the couch when the woman opened the door, definitely curious to see the two adults’ reactions when they would finally see each other – though she still feared Dante’s wrath a little.                 But when she finally saw them face-to-face, this couple she had been imagining – and rooting for - for weeks, she didn’t care about her friend’s anger or disappointment - He would definitely thank her later - . They looked so perfect, like coming from an episode of one of those telenovelas she loved so much. Dante was towering Y/N perfectly and she was so pretty. And the lighting.  Gosh “Like a scene from a movie.” She sighed. If only she could read their minds right now.      “There you are, young lady!” Dante declared with a menacing finger as he entered the house            “Hi Dante! What are you doing here?” Patty tried to play innocent but there was something in her voice that couldn’t fool Dante. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I never thought this annoying little brat would dare come here … or steal my stuff.”  “That’s alright, Dante. We were having fun actually. And at least, that girl dared visit me … unlike someone else.” Dante definitely felt that sting and he knew he deserved it. “How long has it been?” “A while.” He said, pretending to be casual even though he had the right amount of years and months in mind. “And this day never happened. Come on, Patty. Let’s go.”             No, no, no. This couldn’t end like that. Patty thought. Not after all this time. “Can I at least finish my tea please?”                  “ I’ll buy you a tea on the way back to Red Grave. Let’s go!” Dante insisted as he came closer to the girl to grab her by the arm and drag her away from Y/N’s place as fast as possible. “Right. Like I’m going to believe you. You never buy me anything, even when you owe me.” Y/N smiled while Dante sighed deeply. “Damn it.”                  “ Plus, you still owe me a trip to the beach.”   “ Alright. I’ll take you to the beach. You happy? Now let’s go.” He tried to pull her from the sofa but the girl resisted.             “ Or … you can let Y/N finish her story.” Patty suggested. Dante glanced at Y/N whom he hadn’t seen go to the kitchen to prepare him a strawberry sundae. “Actually I’d prefer that. Y/N can you continue your story, please?”   “ Well, maybe Dante can tell you so that you can finally erase his tab while I’m making this devil a strawberry sundae. Topped with a cherry and two pink wafers, is that it?”           “I don’t know. You’re the pro.” He had a faint smile at her that Patty noticed and beamed at. About time. “Where did you stop you damn story?”

A TRIP TO THE BEACH - Part 2

Dante was sitting at his desk, eyes closed, a magazine covering his face while he was listening to some good old school metal on the jukebox he had just acquired when the damn machine starting to sizzle and shake. “You gotta be kidding me.” Dante complained and, with a deep sigh, got up from his chair to kick the jukebox like Y/N had once taught him. “Funny how those machines always need a good kick to work.”          When he thought of his beloved girlfriend and realised how late it was, he wondered how the hell she had not arrived yet. It was very dark outside and the clock was striking one. The restaurant should be closed by now and Y/N should have been in his arms at least an hour ago, naked preferably.

Not sure Patty needs to know that.

Worry tied Dante’s stomach in a knot in spite of his sleepy brain screaming at him not to be paranoid. “Relax, Dante. She’s probably helping clean the kitchen or something”, he told himself     And yet, tired of repeating this sentence over and over again in his head, he decided to grab his coat and head to the diner. Better be paranoid and look like fool rather than wait here and worry one more second. Plus, he had waited long enough already and he had made a fool of himself in front of Y/N more than once. So what was one more time, huh?

But when Dante arrived at the restaurant and found it empty and dark, he wished he looked like a paranoid fool. But he was not paranoid and he was not a fool. He was terrified and alert in ways he hadn’t been for years. “Please be okay.” He whispered as he entered the place, feeling once again like a little boy hidden in a cupboard, crying for mommy and his brother. A ghastly feeling for someone who had spent years burying his past deep in his armoured heart as a promise … a dying wish.

Dante climbed the stairs quickly, very quickly and yet not quickly enough to his taste, only to stop and freeze at the sight and smell of warm blood on the wooden floor. But there was not just iron and salt flowing to his nostrils, there was this stench, rotting and disgusting, a stench only his demon sense could pick but that would soon be unbearable for humans too, he was sure of it. The stench of decaying corpses.

The son of Sparda never really liked Y/N’s parents. He actually lost almost all sort of respect for them the second they insulted him and made him understand they would never approve of him or of his relationship with their precious daughter. But when he saw them both, drenched in blood and completely ripped apart, their broken bodies lying on the floor of in their bedroom, he couldn’t help but feel sadness and compassion especially for the woman who was standing in the corner of the room, petrified and in tears, her small feminine frame strongly hold in a demonic grip. A nightmarish vision that had been scaring Dante for too long.               “Took you long enough… Son of Sparda.” The demon said with a calm and yet menacing cavernous voice that would make anyone tremble in fear. But that wasn’t the sound of his voice that made Dante afraid – because yes he was afraid –

You? Afraid? Rrr, shut up!

It was the sight of the woman he loved so close to that monster’s sharp claws.           The half-demon squinted at the devil before him, at his cloaked silhouette hidden in the darkness, trying to hide his fear, turning it into a nonchalant and over-confident mask he knew how to wear better than anything else (except his red leather jacket) but that somehow didn’t look as convincing as usual. “I’m afraid you’ve got the wrong guy, pal. Sparda may have a son. But that's not me.”          “Tony, what’s going on?” Y/N’s voice was shaking just like the rest of her body.            “It’s alright, baby. I’ll get you out of here. I promise.” He had too.        “You can try and pretend to be someone else. But I know who you are. Dante, Son of Sparda. And soon, your blood will flow for what your father did to my master.” Usually, that same old routine would have made Dante scoff and slice that creature in two for he was used to demons coming at him with pathetic threats and silly villain monologues. But today, what was at stake was simply way too important for impulsiveness.           “And who would that master be?”         “The one true king of the underworld. Mundus.”

Dante had heard that name before, long ago, in something that was now a long-time memory. Mundus was the villain of his favourite bedtime story, the one his father would always tell him and Vergil before going to sleep, when they were nothing but kids tucked in their beds.            Mundus. He remembered how that name would make him fidget and jump in anticipation and how his big brother in the bed under his would always kick him through the mattress to make him stop wriggling like a hyperactive goldfish out of water.            Mundus, the so-called Prince of Darkness Sparda had cast away and locked in the underworld a long long time ago to free the human world from his diabolical tyranny. Never thought he would have ever heard about him in another context though.

“Oh. That dude. Thought he would be dead by now… like you soon will be”    “Cocky, just like that filthy betrayer Sparda.” The demon smiled, showing short pointy black fangs that yet shone in the dim moonlight. “And in love with a human, just like he was. It would be a shame …” He grabbed a strand of Y/N’s (colour) hair to toy with it with a vicious smirk, making the young woman shiver even more. “… if something were to happen to her the same way something happened to your slut mother” Dante felt his jaw clench tight and his nails pierce the flesh of his palms. The rage, it was slowly yet surely eating at him.               “Don’t you dare talk about my mother! And don’t you dare lay even just a finger on Y/N!” Dante growled, not realising he had just given his identity up. But the black demon did and with a satisfied smile, he cupped Y/N’s face in between his vile sharp claws to burry his long nose in Dante lover’s soft hair and smell her human perfume that was oh so exquisite to him. An intended provocation and an effective one.      “How chivalrous! How noble! I’m sure your father would have said the same thing…” Dante frowned and clenched his fists even tighter, trying to stay put and in control, trying desperately to resist the powerful will to pounce on that demon and impale him on his sword and spill his guts on the floor. He knew he had too because he knew that the reaction he thought so much about was exactly what that monster wanted.           He was trying to infuriate him, to make him reckless and stop thinking rationally so that he would have him at a possible advantage when he let his rage have the best of him. Provocation at its finest. A strategy Dante knew all about. “… had he been here when I and my fellow demons tore her apart.” Yes, he knew all about it and yet... “Mundus says farewell, hybrid filth.” He suddenly stopped caring about what he knew.

Dante jumped and with a scream, unsheathed his sword to slash the arm that was holding Y/N. An impulsive move, a mistake he realised only too late, when the demon pierced the soft neck of the one he loved the most with his sharp claws in an attempt to protect himself from the demonic blade.       Everything went so quick to Y/N and yet so slow to Dante. She didn’t scream. She didn’t even have time to realise what was going on or to process the sudden pain. She only understood something was wrong when her body hit the floor and she saw Dante’s icy blue eyes widen and stare at her in horror. Then she felt the blood, her blood she was quite certain of it, running along her pale skin covering it in shades of dark red.                   Dante screamed like never before, like no human could, so loud the walls trembled and the demon slightly bowed down in fear. He screamed with an anger, a rage he didn’t know he was capable of, something so deep and passionate he never thought was in him. Something fiery … something … demonic. It felt like his skin was burning, like there was a ravaging fire spreading, growing in his body, menacing to burst, to combust him. And it almost did. It almost did but it stopped just when Rebellion sliced the head of the demon open, spilling his brains and his blood on the walls behind him.   Then, there was a relief that all this was over. The fight. The fire. The fear…  No not the fear!

“Y/N” Dante ran to her and quickly pressed her body against his. His hand found her neck to apply pressure on her bloody wound. She was barely conscious but she was still with him. “I’m so sorry, baby. Hold on, I got you.” He kissed her forehead. It was so cold against his lips. “You’re gonna be okay. I promise.”

Dante stayed by her side for what seemed hours to him, holding her tight against him, trying to keep the weakening life in her safe, when finally blue and red lights began to flicker in the bedroom. What happened next was so blurry. All he could make out were a group of men dragging Y/N from his embrace, saying they would take care of her and that he had to let her go. He didn’t know how he did it but he eventually obeyed those men, in spite of his arms trying to reach for her.         He followed them- followed Y/N- to the crowded street where the nearby residents were crammed into, whispering and trying to take a peep at what was going on in this usual very quiet neighbourhood. But he didn’t care about them or their judgmental looks. All he cared about was Y/N being taken away in an ambulance.   The paramedics didn’t let him in. And in spite of how much he wanted to fight their decision, Dante chose not to. He couldn’t delay them. Y/N’s life depended on time and too much had been wasted already.

But he found her again, like he would always find her, and he spent days waiting for her to wake up, waiting for her beautiful (colour) eyes to open again, for her sweet voice to say she was alright, his hand holding hers in an eternal grip that only her awakening could break, days in which he had to think about what happened, about what could have happened and what will happen. So many hypothesis, each one worse than the last.       And when Y/N finally awoke and, with a soft smile that bear no grudges or hatred, said. “Hey handsome.” He did what he thought he should have done days ago. “We need to end this.”

***

Patty’s eyes were glowing with tears as she was staring at Dante without blinking. This was certainly the saddest love story she had ever heard in her entire life. Even Bolero in Spring had never made her feel so much. “You can’t do that!” She declared as if in denial, as if she could change the past. “The story can’t end like this!”    “But it is not a story, Patty. This is not some television show made to satisfy a bunch of hopeless romantic little girls. It’s real life. And real life is tough and …” Dante looked at Y/N, at her sad eyes and at the scar she was trying to conceal under a red silk scarf. “What’s done cannot be undone.” “But you loved each other!” The girl was almost furious, shaking her head nervously.              “Patty.” Dante said calmly.       “And you still love each other, I’m sure of it. I can tell by the way you both tell your story.”   “Patty.” Dante repeated with insistence this time.     “I won’t have this ending! No way!” She shouted with a deep frown.                  “It has already ended!” Dante screamed and Patty froze. He had never screamed at her, never in his entire life, even in times when she was incredibly annoying. He had never screamed at her. “It has ended. And neither you nor anyone can change it, okay? If it doesn’t please you, you can leave, wait in the car and go back to your mushy love series.”

There was a pregnant silence in which Patty stared at Dante with a disappointment he had never witnessed. “Y/N was right. You know how to fight demons. But you don’t know how to fight YOUR demons.” And she got up and left the house to do exactly what her beloved friend had told her, meaning wait in the car to go back to mushy love stories, leaving Dante and Y/N alone in the living room with nothing else but a heavy discomfort.

“I’m sorry for making a scene.”                “ Well, you always had a flair for the dramatic.” They both had a conspiratorial smile similar to the ones they used to share when they were younger except it was fainter, sadder. “ She read the letter, the one you wrote me” Dante said staring at his hands in discomfort. He couldn’t look at Y/N, not with all the memories rushing in his head.                  “ I figured.” But she looked at him, excepting deep down he would say something, anything about what happened.”Never thought you would have kept it though.”               “ Why not?”       “ You never replied.” And there it was, that disappointment Dante well deserved.   “I did reply. I just never sent the letter.” Y/N's eyes slightly widened at this unexpected confession. What did he mean by that?              “Huh, words of advice. After writing a letter to someone, you need to mail it.” She declared sarcastically, not really knowing how she managed to crack such a joke. Was it a joke? Maybe, because Dante laughed a bit.       “ I had no money to buy a stamp.” The girl scoffed. She knew the man before her all to well to know that this was “Bullshit.” But she had missed it, missed him.  “What did it say?”          “ Same crap I told you at the hospital. How much I was sorry and … You know what? … There.” He opened his red coat to take a crumpled letter from his inside pocket. It was unsealed, stamped –obviously- and her name and address were written on it.                “ I hope Devil May Cry will never provide delivery service cause this has clearly arrived way too late.” However she took it in her hands, gathering all her inner strength not to tremble as she could feel all those emotions shaking inside of her.  “ Years too late. You can say it.” Dante smiled as he watched the letter he had kept to himself for so many years finally reaching its long-awaited recipient.  “I don’t expect you to read it … or open it. You can actually turn it into a paper plane or shove it down my throat if you want. I won’t fight you.” Of course he had to joke, to play it cool but she didn’t mind. She knew it was just one of his defence mechanism and she couldn’t blame him for it.      “ So why giving it to me?” Dante shrugged, refusing to admit he did want her to read what his young 19 years old self had to say, what he still had to say. “You can’t stop with the devil-may-care for a second and admit what you truly want, what you truly feel, can you?”     “ Fight my demons, huh?” He quoted her and she nodded. “Yes. Would that be so complicated for a ‘menacing devil hunter’ like yourself?” It was her turn to quote him but that quote made him melancholically happy.                   “ I guess that’s a challenge I still can not face.”              “ Or don’t want to” There was a new pause and as they finally looked at each other’s eyes, they knew they would not fix what had been broken years ago today. He was not ready. Not yet anyway. And that was okay. Y/N was patient. She could wait. She could keep waiting.     “Goodbye Y/N” Especially when this time a kiss on her forehead and a hand on her cheek felt more hopeful than ever. “Goodbye, Dante.”

And she watched him leave, again, but certain that someday, one day he would come back to her as he always would. After all, he promised.

#DEVIL MAY CRY #DANTE #DANTE X READER #DMC FANFICTION #DEVIL MAY CRY FANFICTION #A TAB TO ERASE #PATTY LOWELL

[tainbocuailnge]

this is probably a bit of a ridiculous question but like. as much as from a fandom understanding i understand guda and monte christos relationship is close, where did it come from? i love monte christo but i have no idea where his love comes from either and it's smthn ive always wondered and never been able to find a good answer to...

that’s not ridiculous don’t worry. a lot of fgo story content originates in events so the longer we go the further that info gets buried, it’s kind of a problem.

it started in prison tower which is the event where dantes officially debuted (though he had a cameo in the kara no kyoukai collab event before). goetia had employed dantes (summoned as a literal shadow of himself in order to be goetia’s tool) to imprison guda to stop them from meddling with the incineration of humanity. in response dantes had set up the apartment complex of knk event to be a black hole of grudges to simultaneously trap guda and forcibly jog his own memory of being the count of monte cristo by recreating an environment similar to chateau d’if, and while it fails to imprison guda it does succeed at letting dantes pull the demon pillar out of his brain. 

for prison tower they up the ante by drawing your soul into the nightmare chateau d’if where dantes’ own soul is still imprisoned, with dantes as your prison guard because by definition “there is only one person who has ever escaped chateau d’if” and as long as dantes is there that person cannot be guda. dantes, with his memories restored after knk event, knows full well what it means for an innocent person to be cast into this hell however, so rather than immediately take his chance to repeat his escape through abbe faria’s death and finally free himself at the low cost of a stranger’s life he instead decides to test your resolve first, and step over your corpse if he finds you lacking. 

over the span of a week you basically speedrun dantes’ own 14 years of imprisonment by facing off against avatars of humanity’s deepest ugliness, but you overcome each of them in turn and remain steadfast through it all. dantes considers himself doomed beyond salvation because of the way his existence as servant is twisted by public perception into “a man who forever burns with revenge” instead of “a man who was saved from being consumed by vengeance”, but even so you show him it is possible to overcome this hell without being twisted. you grant him the chance to save someone rather than just avenge them. by the end of the event he tells you to fight and kill him so that he is pushed into the role of abbe faria and you can escape the prison tower in his stead. 

tldr; dantes is madly in love with you because you showed him hope where he thought there was none and he’s going to hold on to that hope with everything he’s got

#dawgsprite #king of asks

[much-obliged-timothy]

Whumptober #26

Devil May Cry - #26 - Blindness

I didn’t have enough time to proofread tonight, so I apologize for any errors!

*

“Do these things ever stop coming?” Nero said as he sliced through yet another smaller demon.

“Stop complaining,” Vergil said.

“It was a question, not a complaint,” Nero pointed out. “Besides, we should be trying to get to the source of where these things are coming from rather than wasting time cutting them up.”

“Kid’s got a point,” Dante said, shooting a demon dead and trying to catch his breath. “Whatever is sending these things at us is just trying to wear us down. Might as well charge in and finish this up.”

“You two are impatient,” Vergil said.

“You’re welcome to stay here and keep swinging away at the cannon fodder. Dante and I will go actually be useful,” Nero said.

Vergil’s expression darkened in irritation, and Dante had to hide a laugh. Nero sure knew how to get to his father. 

Sure enough, Vergil moved towards the large hole in the ground that the demons kept pouring out of. “Let’s hurry this up. I can’t tolerate being around the two of you for much longer.”

Nero flashed Dante a thumbs-up, and Dante grinned in return. The two followed after Vergil, and they jumped down into the hole.

“The hell is that?” Nero as they finally spotted the source of this mess.

There stood a large demon, swarmed by what appeared to be hundreds, if not thousands, of the smaller demons. It let out a grating scream that had all three men wincing at the volume.

“Think we pissed her off,” Dante said, and dove to the side as it whipped a sharp tendril at him.

“Don’t let the tendrils hit you. They’re coated in some kind of substance,” Vergil said, readying his sword. “Could be deadly.” 

“I dare you to touch the tendril,” Dante said, nudging Nero.

“I should’ve done this job alone,” Vergil said with a long sigh.

“But instead, you’re graced by us,” Nero said, and ran at the demon.

“Reckless,” Vergil hissed. “That boy is so damn reckless.”

“He knows what he’s doing. I think,” Dante said, and took off after Nero.

Vergil moved more carefully, taking precise strikes against the demon’s legs to stagger it. Dante and Nero climbed its back and began to slash away at it, dodging its thrashing tendrils as it screeched and tried to shake them off.

Nero narrowly avoided a tendril in an attempt to get the demon to stab itself. But it was immune to whatever coated its tendril, so Nero instead tried slashing at the tendril itself.

“Nero! Stop playing around! You have no idea what that’ll do to you if it hits you,” Vergil said.

“Careful, he might ground you,” Dante teased.

“It won’t do shit to me if I can cut it off,” Nero said, striking the tendril again and shifting his body so that it flailed past him harmlessly. “This thing is damn hard to cut through. And why does it have so many?”

“You can study them once the demon is dead,” Vergil said, slicing the Yamato across the demon’s leg.

It screeched again, sending a tendril flying at Vergil. Vergil easily moved out of the way, but Nero’s eyes widened as he saw a smaller tendril streaking towards Vergil’s back.

“Vergil!” he cried, leaping off the demon’s back.

He crashed into Vergil just in time to knock him out of the way. Vergil stumbled off balance and hit the ground, looking up just as the tendril stabbed into Nero’s chest and sent him flying back.

Nero hit the ground hard, fingers grasping at his chest, trying to yank the tendril free. Dante and Vergil both sprang into action, trying to cut the tendril off the demon.

Dante grasped it and yanked it free, Nero crying out at the sensation. He grabbed his sword, but dropped it a moment later, gripping his head as panic flashed across his face.

“Nero?” Vergil demanded, fending off another tendril before it could get the vulnerable boy.

“I can’t see!” Nero said in alarm. 

Nero swung his head around side to side, but his vision remained pitch black. His chest tingled, but his limbs still worked just fine. He could hear and smell everything fine. 

But his vision was gone.

He reached out blindly for his sword, grasping it. He got to his feet, trying to listen hard. He was used to fighting one armed, but not blind. He’d never had to fight blind before.

“Down!”

Someone grabbed him and yanked him to the ground. Something whipped over his head, and he abandoned his sword, grabbing his gun instead and firing at the sound.

“Stop, before you hit one of us,” Dante said, thumping him in the head. “Let me see you.”

“Bastard,” Nero said, trying to kick him.

“Ow! That wasn’t a joke! I really am trying to look you over. Vergil, cover us.” Dante gripped Nero’s shoulders. After a moment, Nero felt Dante’s hand on his chest.

“There’s some sort of film over your eyes,” Dante said at last. “Shit. My dumbass brother talks so big and can’t even watch his own back.”

Nero tightened his hold on his gun, refusing to give into his fear. The darkness reminded him of being sucked into the Savior back in Fortuna. But this time, he would not be weak. He would not be helpless and useless.

“Tell me where to shoot,” he said.

“You should-”

“Tell me where to shoot,” he repeated impatiently.

Dante sighed, and put a hand back on his shoulder. “Someone’s got to keep you covered. Alright, kid, let’s do this. We’ll shoot the thing, and Vergil can carve it up. On your right.” 

Dante directed Nero where to shoot, and pulled him out of the way of harm. Nero focused hard on the sounds around him, trying to determine where Vergil was so he didn’t accidentally shoot him. What a waste to save him from the tendril just to accidentally shoot him. 

Still, it might be a good excuse to get revenge for his arm…

No, no. Another time, maybe. Right now, he had a demon to kill, eyesight or no eyesight.

“Oh fu- on your left!” Dante cried, gripping Nero’s arm to yank him aside.

But Nero could hear the sound of the tendril whipping through the air towards them. He fired twice at it before Dante pulled him aside.

There was an awful shrieking sound, and then a heavy thump that shook the ground. Nero lowered his gun.

“Vergil?” he guessed.

“Killed it,” Vergil said.

“He’s taking all the credit, but that thing has quite a few bullet holes in it,” Dante said, clapping Nero on the back. “Nice shooting, kid.”

“His eyes,” Vergil said, his voice close to Nero now. “What the hell is this substance?”

“No clue,” Dante said, and Nero heard the slightest strain in his voice. He was worried.

“Is it permanent?” Nero asked, forcing his voice to remain steady. Still, he tightened his grip on his gun to keep his hand from shaking.

“Let’s get you back home so we can look into this,” Dante said, evading the question. “Vergil, cut off a few of those tendrils.”

Nero listened to Vergil do just that. After a few moments, a hand fell on his arm and began guiding him forward.

“We’ll need to carry him out of here,” Dante said, and Nero was surprised to find that his voice was too far back to be the one guiding him.

“I can walk just fine,” Nero said.

“It’ll be too much of a hassle to guide you out,” Vergil said, voice right next to Nero. “Here, just- stay still.”

Nero let out an indignant noise as he was lifted. Wind whipped against his face as Vergil made his way up and out of the hole they jumped into, and it was a few moments before he was set back down. Vergil put a hand on his arm to guide him again.

Nero wanted to shove Vergil’s hand away, but he was well aware he’d end up tripping if he tried to walk alone. There were too many corpses of those smaller demons scattered about.

So he reluctantly allowed himself to be led back to the van. He could hear the engine as they approached.

“What happened to his eyes?” Nico said.

“Unsure. Get us back to his house,” Vergil said.

“I’m sorry, what was that? It sounded like you were trying to give me orders,” Nico said.

“Alright, alright. Nero came in here with his eyesight and now he’s suddenly blind. Maybe fight when we fix that?” Dante said. 

Nico grumbled out curse words, but the van jerked into motion. Nero, familiar with the layout, shrugged Vergil’s hand off and got up.

He kept a hand out in front of him as he cautiously made his way to where they kept the water bottles. He managed to grab one and twist the cap off, pouring some into his cupped hand and splashing it into his eyes.

“Stop,” Vergil said, taking the water bottle from him. “We have no idea what that substance is. You could be making things worse.”

“I’m blind!” Nero snapped. “How much worse could I possibly make it?”

“You could make it permanent,” Vergil snapped right back.

Nero swung his head in the direction he thought Dante was in. “You can’t take me home like this. Kyrie will worry.”

“Over here, kid,” Dante said from the opposite direction. “I’ll take you back to my office for now. I already messaged Trish a description of the demon to look into.”

“Are there any other symptoms?” Vergil said.

“A headache, but that might just be because I’m sick of dealing with you,” Nero said. He slumped back against the side of the van, resisting the urge to rub his eyes. “My chest is tingling and my eyes burn. Want to hear about how that makes me feel since you’re playing doctor?”

“Fine, then we’ll stop trying to help and you can suffer,” Vergil said. “If that’s how you want to be.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Nero said, slamming his fist against the wall. “Sorry if I’m not exactly in the best mood right now, but I kind of just went blind, and it might be fucking permanent.”

“And you’re mad because it should’ve been me,” Vergil said.

Nero let out a disbelieving laugh. “You think I’m that shallow? If I wanted it to be you, I wouldn’t have pushed you out of the way. Maybe you wouldn’t have done it for me, but I don’t regret doing it for you, even if this is permanent.”

Vergil fell silent. Nero turned away from him and made his way back to a seat. He didn’t want to let his fear grow too much, so he busied himself feeling his chest injury and trying to judge how badly it had torn his clothes.

When the van finally stopped, he got up and made his way off it without help. But then someone caught his arm and guided him along.

“Dante, I know my way around your office,” Nero said impatiently. “I don’t need a guide.”

“I know that,” Dante said from far ahead of him. “Tell it to your old man.”

“I- oh.” Nero turned his head towards the hand on his arm, though he could see nothing. 

“It’s a mess in there. Knowing your way around won’t help,” Vergil said without taking his hand away.

Nero allowed it, if only because of Vergil’s tone. He sounded...almost reluctant. Like he’d finally realized that Nero had saved him for no other reason than that he hadn’t wanted to see Vergil get hurt. No ulterior motive, no “you owe me”; just an instinctive desire to save him.

“Good news,” Trish said as they got Nero seated. “The effects would be permanent on a human, but it’s only temporary on a demon.”

“How is that good news? Nero is more human than demon,” Vergil said, that cold anger back.

“He’s demon enough,” Trish said. “It should wear off in a few hours.”

“And if it doesn’t?” Vergil said.

“It will,” Dante said.

But Nero knew what he’d see if he hadn’t been blinded. He’d see Dante and Trish shooting Vergil that “shut up or you’ll scare him” look. They sounded confident, but Vergil was right. Nero was mixed, with more human in him than his father or uncle. They might be fine if it was them, but it was Nero.

“Reckless,” Vergil grumbled, because he’d evidently reached the same conclusion Nero just had. If Vergil had been stabbed by the tendril, this wouldn’t be an issue. But it had been his son, and now they’d just have to wait and hope. “You’re so reckless.”

“Runs in the family,” Nero said.

That fear was coming back, though. He couldn’t fight if he was blind. It would take him years to learn how to do it with any competency. Years in which the people he cared about wouldn’t have him there to protect them or watch their backs. Years of being weak and vulnerable.

“Stop,” Vergil said firmly, placing a hand on his shoulder. For once, Nero took a strange comfort in it. “They are right. You’re not human. You’ll be fine in a few hours, and then you’ll go right back to doing something stupid and reckless and put yourself in another bad situation.”

“We’re working on his pep talks,” Dante said.

“Both of you, shut up,” Nero said. But he didn’t want silence, not really. 

Vergil and Dante seemed to pick up on it, for which Nero was grateful. He felt the slightest pressure on his shoulder, as if Vergil had tightened his hold.

“Hey, Nero, since we’ve got the time, why don’t I tell you about the time I kicked your old man’s ass in a sword fight when we were kids?” Dante said.

“They were toy swords, and you cheated,” Vergil said. 

Nero was grateful for the distraction as the brothers began to bicker and argue about what had happened all those years ago in their fake sword fight. Nero listened to them, focusing on their words so that he wouldn’t have to worry about what would happen if this never wore off.

But he knew what would happen. Vergil and Dante would look after him and help him adjust. Because for as irritating as the twins could be, they would never abandon Nero to fight alone in the dark.

#devil may cry #Nero Sparda #Vergil Sparda #whumptober2020 #no.26 #blindness #fic #Dante Sparda #dmc #devil may cry nero #dmc vergil #dmc dante #jtdoeswhumptober #My writing #my post

[beetlebitchywitch]

So hi! I wrote this fic back in December as part of a Secret Santa with the Dante’s Inferno AU crowd, and I got @neitherworld! And since some people are being RUDE and claiming self-shippers are just too cowardly to ship Beetleb@bes, here’s the fic I wrote of her OC Bambi and Movie Beej on a special night at Dante’s to show how fun of a character she is. Enjoy!

WARNING: Mild nudity, some sexy stuff, I’d say rated M but not fully NSFW

Like any normal night at Dante’s, the bass was thumping so heavily Bambi could feel it rattling her posture collar. Her eyes scanned the show floor, catching Madame’s gaze for only a moment before she was off to scold a random ghoul for getting too handsy during his lapdance. Up on the stage, Mal was winding around the pole in a way that enchanted everyone in attendance, though the way Lorelai’s wings glittered under the spotlight as she danced her famous “feather fan” number drew just as much attention. She grumbled good naturedly under her breath as she turned back to face the bar- honestly, those two had such natural moneymakers, and here she was stuck with a stupid jello neck. Whatever, her tits made up for any lack of “exotic” flavor. Speaking of flavor, the bright pink cocktail on the bartop was calling her name, set down gently by Niphera with a soft smile. Bambi squealed, bringing the drink to her lips before pausing for a moment, sending them a sly smile.

“NiNi, what’s in this exactly?” she asked, thrumming her perfectly manicured nails against the bartop. She knew how much her...electric personality could overwhelm them, so she tried her best to keep her energy to herself while holding a conversation with them.

“Nothing that will get you too drunk for your next set,” they chuckled, wiping down a glass absentmindedly. “You know Madame doesn’t like it when you perform after drinking too much.”

“Oh, what does she know?” she huffed, the cocktail sloshing a bit as she crossed her arms. “I happen to think that a little liquid courage makes my performances even better!”

“Perhaps. Or it could be like the time you yakked in a mafioso’s lap and had to use a week’s earnings to pay for his dry cleaning.”

Just the memory made Bambi pout even harder.

“Stupid prick, demon earns 20 times what I do shaking my ass by dealing in some shady shit and he has the nerve to take money outta my paycheck? And now I have to get cut off like some little baby impling.” She sighed deeply. “Whatever, this shit looks tasty anyway. Thanks, bubs.”

“Anytime,” Niphera said softly, getting back to pouring their next order of drinks. “Besides, it’s the least I could do on your birthday.”

Bambi’s eyes widened above the rim of her glass, which she excitedly put down with a beaming grin.

“My birthday? Goodness, how ever did you know about that?”

“Well, let’s see,” Niphera said with a sarcastic, but good natured bite. “Could it have been the notes under all of our pillows reminding us of your birthday? Or perhaps the sash you’re wearing right now that says ‘Birthday Girl’?”

Ok, so maybe Bambi could be a bit over the top. So she wanted a little extra attention on her special day, ain’t nothin’ wrong with that!

“Well, I’m glad my gentle reminders worked! Because today is my day and if I wanna celebrate it by getting wasted on Netherbooze and taking my top off, then that’s how I’m gonna do it!”

“Your top’s already off, Bam.”

She looked down, and then paused.

“...So it is...my bottoms then!”

With a heavy sigh, Niphera moved to the other side of the bar without a word, an unspoken cue for Bambi to leave them alone. Their relationship was odd, but Bambi did her best to make it work and respect their boundaries...most of the time. Sighing, she turned back to her drink, taking a few messy gulps and giggling when she could feel rivulets of booze trickling down her neck and between her tits. If anybody was watching her, they were sure getting a good show.

“Well hey there, little fawn. Ya sure seem to be enjoyin��� yourself.”

Bambi froze, her happy grin immediately turning to a small scowl. Of course he would be the one to show up looking for some tail and interrupting her night.

“What do you want, Juice?” she asked absentmindedly, “Can’t you see I’m a little busy?”

“Oh yeah, sure as hell can, sugar tits. I gotta admit, of all the fine specimens in this place, you sure do have the nicest rack,” he rasped, pulling out a slim cigarette and lighting it by setting the tips of his fingers on fire. He took a deep drag, holding it for a moment before letting out a hard cough, not even hiding his amused smirk when the smoke blew into Bambi’s face, causing her to break into a coughing fit. She glared up at him even as her lungs spasmed, questioning whether a slap to the face or a knee to the nuts would be more fun for her.

“Well,” she interjected, letting out her last few coughs. “You sure know how to treat a lady, don’t you?”

“Come on now, babes, I don’t see no lady here,” he said with a grin, taking another puff of his cig and thankfully blowing it behind him. “But I do see a smokin’ hot broad in need of a good time.”

“Since when do I have a good time with you?” she retorted, sticking her tongue impishly. She was exaggerating, of course- her and Beetlejuice had plenty of fun teasing and playing cat and mouse before retiring upstairs for a quickie, but tonight she was not in the mood. She was tipsy, she looked drop dead gorgeous with her tits out and smothered in body glitter, and she felt like a bad bitch, so she wasn’t about to let some shambling corpse turn her into his pet for the night. She turned back to her drink, fully intent on ignoring him completely until he went off to hump some other unlucky girl’s leg. After a few moments, when she could still feel his presence behind her, she grunted in annoyance, turning back around. “Ain’t anybody ever tell ya it’s impolite to stare, stunad?”

“Ooh, I didn’t know the little deer had claws,” he laughed, only infuriating her more. “Besides, ya ever known me to be polite? Remember who you’re talkin’ too, babes.”

God, she was getting so fed up with this conversation. She was not gonna let some lousy, rancid, good for nothin’ ghost ruin her big night. She turned her stool towards him and shot him with a withering stare, which infuriatingly only seemed to amuse him further. She was about to give her a piece of her mind when- “Well, would ya look at that. Didn’t realize I was talkin’ to the birthday girl.”

Her eyes widened, them flitting down to the sash practically crushed between her tits.

“Yeah…what’s it to ya?” she asked warily. Her and Beetlejuice had clearly never been fond of one another, so she doubted he had anything good up his sleeve for her, and goddammit she just wanted to enjoy her fucking birthday! “I swear to Satan, Juice, if you pull any funny shit I won’t even have to call Ivan, I’ll rip that pencil you call a dick off from between your legs myself.”

While she hoped she sounded even the tiniest bit threatening, she was met with a bellyaching laugh from the ghost with the most, causing her to pout and cross her arms indignantly.

“One helluva performance, dollface, but ya don’t gotta worry. Not even I would pull any tricks on a lady’s birthday. In fact…”

She watched with a difficultly admitted curiosity as he began to rustle around his filthy coat, cringing only slightly when puffs of dirt floated to the floor as he aggressively searched his multiple pockets. Seemingly finding what he was looking for, he rustled around for a few seconds more before pulling out-

Oh.

“Holy smokes,” Bambi murmured in awe, staring at the absolutely stunning diamond ring clutched between Beetlejuice’s fingertips. With a high pitched squeal, she bounced up and down on the stool, reaching out to snatch the ring from him and slide it onto her finger. “A little snug, but damn that’s one helluva rock! Juice, what-”

“Least I could do, since it’s your birthday and all, kid,” he said dismissively, looking...sheepish? Bambi smirked, grabbing onto the lapels of his coat and pulling him in close, noticing how his eyes immediately fell to her exposed tits now that there was only a foot between them, wide with shock that she was actually seemingly coming onto him.

“Is that all you wanted to give me for my birthday, BJ?” she asked sweetly, her words so laden with honey that you’d think they were in a beehive. Immediately, his demeanor flipped from shock back to his typical shtick, growling softly beneath his breath as he wrapped both arms around her waist, reveling in the softness of her skin.

“I can think of a million things I could do to that pretty little body that’d make this birthday one you’d never forget, little fawn,” he growled softly. This close, she could smell the musty dampness of him, though it never perturbed her, letting out a tiny squeal of a giggle as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Just one question, Juice,” she whimpered teasingly, letting her tongue drag lasciviously across her lower lip. She could feel the ache in him as he held her close, but it was always her MO to tease before letting him have her...if she would let him have her.

“Anything, doll,” he assured her, clutching her waist tighter with desperation. “Ya wanna go topside and wreak some havoc? Come home covered in blood and fuck while we’re all messy? Come on, babes, say the word and I’ll have ya back before Madame can notice yer gone.”

“Mm, that does sound nice,” she mused, sliding one hand down his cheek and chest before walking her fingers back up slowly, daintily, feeling his need for her increase with every gentle touch. “But BJ, I gotta know…” She cupped his jaw and pulled him in close, her lips hovering above his ear as she spoke with the softest whisper. “...Is the rock real?”

She had her answer just by the way he stiffened in her arms. Fucking cheapskate.

“Now hold on, babes, ya don’t understa-”

Before he could even finish his sentence, she was out of his arms and grabbing the last half of her drink, splashing it in his face without a care. God did it fill her with power to see him standing there, floundering with booze dripping down his skin and suit and taking a layer of grime with it. She smirked, hopping down off her stool with her typical bounciness.

“Find some other pussy to give herpes to, Juice,” she quipped happily, as if she hadn’t just threw her drink in his face. “If ya wanted a cheap slut, you shouldn’t have come knockin’ on my door...I’m keepin’ the ring though. It may be fake, but hey, so is half of me!”

And with that, she was back off to the floor, sliding up a pole without a care in the world as the crowd cheered around her, and Beetlejuice just continued to stare. She knew he’d get her back for this someday, but for now, she had to say that, either living or dead, this was the best birthday she’d ever had.

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice fanfic #beetlejuice fic #beetlejuice fanfiction #Beetlejuice x oc #dante’s inferno #Dante’s inferno au #beetleb@bes dni #I mean it #I’ve got more important shit to do than argue about fandom discourse so don’t even try

[blackrose343]

Hopeless - Chapter 4: The Decision

Warnings: Angst, gore, language, and violence

Devil May Cry - V x Gender Neutral Reader

Fanfic summary:  You have been kidnapped by a Soul Snatcher clan that used to reside within Red Grave. They’re torturing you for more information about the one who helped you kill their leader. While being held captive you begin to think about how to escape, how this all started, and if someone will find you. Then again, what would happen if you escape?

Hopeless Masterlist

Yay! I finished this earlier than I thought I would. I honestly have no idea if the chapter titles make sense or if they’re necessary. 

Present Day

Lower class Soul Snatchers made their appearance as V and Vergil got closer to you. Vergil swiftly cut through them. Griffon and Shadow were ahead weakening the others. V ended each one with his cane. None of these Soul Snatchers were a priority but there were too many to ignore. V and Vergil knew this was a ploy to tire them before reaching you. V had to retain his strength and demonic power so Vergil told V to go ahead. (These were nothing compared to what Vergil had to face in the past.) V left Vergil to deal with the pests. 

It didn’t take long for V to find the hideout. Your captor was standing on the roof, waiting. V stopped. His eyes widened with worried disbelief. You were pulled to the edge of the roof then you were forced to kneel before your captor. Your captor stepped on your ankle’s chains ensuring you’ll stay put. You were so happy to see V, but your tears were not of joy. You were mortified with V seeing you like this: completely exposed and defeated. You turned your head away, unable to look at V. You bit your lip keeping your whimpers to a minimum. Your captor forced you to face V by pulling your hair.

V's eyes darkened. Without realizing it he prepared to summon Nightmare. Vergil appeared, grabbing V’s arm. He warned V not to be rash. They couldn’t risk injuring you more than you already are. Vergil feared you wouldn’t last much longer. You’ve been tortured for over a week straight. No time to rest or heal. He knew your injuries were never treated. If anything you were given below minimum treatment. Anything to keep you barely breathing. Vergil could sense you were grasping the last bit of life you had left. They had to save you before your time runs out.

“Well, I was expecting only Vergil Sparda. The other I was not. Maybe now (Y/N) will tell me who killed Carmilla.” You felt a blade above your throat. All you could do was stay still. You wished more than anything that you had the energy to fight him. Cold sweat formed as your body became numb. Your heartbeat became faster anticipating the worst. Your eyes gazed up at your captor. His sinister smile instantly told you you were going to die no matter what answer you gave. You took a gulp of air. You looked down at V and Vergil mentally telling them how thankful you were they found you. The featherlight slice from the blade brought you back to your situation. “I’m waiting.”

“As I told you when you captured me. I’m not telling you shit!” Out of spite your captor brutally sliced your throat. You struggled to breathe as he kicked you off the building. You felt the kick, then everything became a blur. You weren’t sure why you chose to keep V a secret until the very end. Perhaps it was because you wanted to protect him. You couldn’t let him die because of you. Or perhaps you thought the ones in front of you were other Soul Snatcher’s deceiving you.

V and Vergil were frozen in place absorbing what they just saw. Seeing you fall is what snapped them out of it. V ran to you, desperate to catch you. Vergil knew V wouldn’t get to you in time. He teleported closer to the building then jumped. Gently, he laid you on the ground as V made his way to you. Vergil was doing what he could to help you. V knelt beside you pushing your hair out of your face. V was speechless. He tried to speak to you but his words got tangled in his throat. All V could do was watch you, feeling completely useless.

“V!...V?...V!? HEY SHAKESPEARE!!!” The other Soul Snatchers were gathering ready for their meal. Griffon was waiting for V to summon Shadow and for a command. V was still not saying a word. “Why?” was all V could think of. Why couldn’t he find you sooner? Why didn’t he save you sooner? Why couldn’t he help you now?

“Damn, you two didn’t have to steal all the fun.” Dante shot at the Soul Snatchers getting too close to V. Nero shot at your captor preventing him from getting to V. Dante stood behind V while Nero crouched next to V. Nero’s heart nearly stopped. He couldn't process what happened to you. What did you do to deserve this? Nero couldn’t fathom what was going on with V. Unlike V, Nero would be reassuring you you would be okay while concealing his wrath. And that’s what he did.

Dante’s attention was fixated on your captor. His nostrils were filled with the scent of your blood. His ears were filled with your struggle for air. He wouldn’t deny he became more worried when he heard Nero’s reassurances. He asked what happened but no one answered. Your captor encouraged Dante to look. Dante knew better. Your captor lunged at Dante as Dante shot another Soul Snatcher. Nero quickly got up and helped Dante get rid of the remaining Soul Snatchers.

V couldn’t motivate himself to get up; to fight. He truly believed he lost you. Vergil convinced him otherwise. While searching for you in the Underworld, Vergil found a demonic healer. Vergil doesn’t know what it would want in exchange for healing you but it was the only option they had. V didn’t care what the price was. What he wanted was for you to live. V nodded at Vergil giving him the okay to take you. Vergil sliced a portal to the healer then left with you.

V terminated the Soul Snatchers that attempted to pursue Vergil. He faced your tormentor filled with wrath he thought he could never conjure. V made it his personal mission to obliterate him and every Soul Snatcher that walked the earth. Tightly he gripped his cane then pointed it at your tormentor. Mindlessly, he commanded Griffon and Shadow then summoned Nightmare. “What evil lurks...I must destroy.” 

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

Vergil placed you on the ground, then the healer kneeled next to you. The healer hovered her claws over your body. Vergil had his guard up even though he knew she was examining you. She felt all of your pain, your sorrow, your fear and much more. Vergil growled indicating she needed to start healing you before it was too late. She was annoyed but understood. She let her hand rest above your throat then casted a small spell to ease the pain. To Vergil it appeared that she did nothing. She continued to examine the rest of you. The healer looked at Vergil with grief filled eyes. “I can heal them physically if that is what you seek. Although, it will take much more to completely heal them.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you think they will easily continue living normally after the suffering they endured?” Vergil grunted with annoyance. He looked away unable to answer the healer. She was right. Vergil couldn’t imagine what you’ve been through. The torture Mundus inflicted upon him was probably worse than what happened to you. It took some time for Vergil to heal and adjust after escaping Mundus and becoming whole. Yet, Vergil knows you’re not him. It may take a long time for you to fully recover or maybe you never will. “I can seal their memories...but it will not be forever.”

“...Do what you must to fully heal them.” The healer nodded, then placed her hands on your throat and forehead. She chanted a spell to heal your body. Once your body became fully healed, she looked into your memories. Vergil sat down next to you holding your hand. He was unsure if he made the right decision.

One Year Ago

The opposite side of Red Grave was a graveyard compared to where you and V were. To you the area was empty yet you could sense the presence of others. The corpses you saw weren't drained by the Qliphoth roots like the others. These were mutilated. Someone or something became desperate for food. It was evident from the bite marks. To keep yourself in a decent mood you wondered if V was joking about eating a demon. (You really hoped he was. The image of him eating one made you want to barf.)

You opened Creatures of the Occult and How to Summon Them to see where you needed to go. You thought following the symbols would be easy. Instead the symbols were a riddle revealing where to go. Or maybe it was just your guilt for leaving V distracting you. Maybe a part of you didn’t want to complete your mission without him. You shook your head. You left him behind for his own good. There’s nothing you need to feel guilty about. You needed to focus or you could get killed.

“I see you made some progress.” You turned to the voice. You couldn’t believe V found you so quickly.

“V, you should be resting. You’re supposed to meet Nero in a couple days.”

“I have gotten more than enough rest.”

“V, go. You need to spare as much strength as you can to defeat Urizen.” You turned your attention back to the symbols. You hoped he would listen. He didn’t. You can hear V’s cane tap the ground as he made his way to you. You buried your head in the book. 

V prevented you from stepping away by trapping you between his arms. He was almost pinning you to the wall. His proximity was a bigger distraction than you wanted to admit. His breath tickled your ear. His lips lightly brushed it with each word of his reasoning to stay with you. You honestly wanted to give in. NO! You had to stick with your decision. You pushed V’s arm out of the way then continued to figure out what the symbols were saying. V wrapped an arm around your waist. He pulled you to him as he twirled you. Your eyes widened when his lips hit yours. His tongue easily entered your mouth as he pushed you up against the wall. You were more than hesitant to repay the gesture. Yes, you enjoyed it but you never thought V would resort to something like this to get what he wants. Something was off.

“V, enough.” V tightened the grip on your waist as you tried to pry him off of you. The nibbles on your neck became rougher, harder. It felt as if he was trying to eat you. Realization hit you. This wasn’t V. This was Carmilla. You did the first thing that came to mind to get her off of you. You stomped on her foot then slammed your knee into her. You took advantage of her loosened grip by pushing her away from you. Her fangs grazed your skin, giving her a tantalizing taste of your blood. You managed to gain some distance between you and Carmilla.  “I said enough, Carmilla.”

“I can already tell your soul will be worth the wait.” Carmilla licked her lips as she morphed to her preferred appearance. You now understood why she was able to devour so many souls so easily. Saying she looked like a celebrity was an understatement. Her beauty was more godlike, divine. Her strawberry blonde hair was somehow able to show off her figure perfectly. Her delighted laughter was enchanting. You would bet her silver tongue had no faults. She looked at you so sweetly yet with so much hunger. That look changed to determination when she charged at you.

You did your best to avoid Carmilla while shooting her. Carmilla was able to dodge your bullets with little difficulty. Very few grazed her. She threw you against a building almost knocking you out. You tried to get up but it was feeling near impossible. You heard the building above you readying to fall. Quickly, you gained composure to dodge the falling building. You were pissed that you were getting your ass beat. You wanted nothing more than to see her cockiness turn into sheer terror.

Carmilla was watching you like a predator who watches their prey. To herself she admitted she was amused with your efforts to survive. (Too bad the fun had to end.) She knew you weren’t going to last much longer. She was looking forward to having your soul. For the first time in almost a month she was going to have a delicious meal. All the souls she could find were disgusting. At first she devoured the souls of her fellow clansmen. As time passed she had to settle for bums off the street or whatever she could get. Nothing could beat the taste of a powerful soul. 

Carmilla appeared before you then threw you up into the air. She kicked you back into the ground from midair. You rolled onto your arms coughing up blood. You knew you wouldn’t last much longer if she kept this shit going. She was going to play with you until the very end. You shot at her while she was in the air then quickly rolled to the side as she landed. The force of Carmilla’s landing caused a hole in the street. You continued to shoot at her as you both fell into the subway system. 

As you got up you saw Carmilla make a graceful landing then headed straight for you. You tried to shoot her only to find out you ran out of bullets. You threw the guns then drew your katanas. Just as she strikes you swung your katana. All you managed to do was give her a shallow cut. The only thing you could do was fight her head on. Although, you were trying your damned hardest to get her away from you. Carmilla nearly took your eye out as you dodged her strike. You cut her abdomen earning a scream from her. 

You don’t know how but you managed to hide from Carmilla. You were lying under a subway. Trying to breathe without making too much noise. You were more than certain you wouldn’t last much longer. You severely underestimated Carmilla’s abilities and strength. You never encountered a demon like her. Not one with strength like hers. The other Soul Snatchers you encountered were nothing compared to her. This mission is way more than you could handle. You would bet your client kept as much information to himself because he knew this. Fucking bastard. You would demand more from him once you were done with this bullshit.

You tried to think of everything you could do to end her. Not much came to mind. If anything, it was to retreat and find V. Except you knew Carmilla would never let you get away...alive. As if the wind was passing, Carmilla was right next to you. She threw the subway you were under out of her way. You bolted from your lying position, preparing for whatever came next. Carmilla threw you against the subway. You couldn’t get up; continue fighting. All you could do was sit up and wait for your demise. But one last idea came to you. It was more than likely not going to work but it was better than doing nothing. Carmilla made her way to you, chuckling. She was more than certain she won this fight.

When Carmilla was close enough, you used the last of your strength to lift yourself up. One last time you cut her hoping this fight would end. Unexpectedly, something pierced through her heart. (Whatever pierced her, cut you pretty deep.) Carmilla’s body fell once the object was removed from her. You collapsed onto the ground, landing in a puddle of Carmilla’s blood. Her lifeless body was facing you. Her strawberry blonde hair now dyed crimson red. Her empty expression staring into your soul. 

“(Y/N)!” V’s voice was replaced by purring. An all too familiar tongue was licking you. You wanted to repay the kind gesture with a scratch behind Shadow’s ears. You couldn’t move. You were beaten and exhausted. All you could hear was V saying your name and begging you to stay with him as you lost consciousness.

You could hear V reading from his book. He was trying to read loud enough for you to hear without grabbing the attention of any nearby demons. Slowly you opened your eyes to a petite candle’s flame. You gingerly sat yourself up. The pain from your fight with Carmilla caused you to take a sharp breath. All you wanted to do was stretch your arms. You were not going to enjoy the next few weeks with the condition you were in. “Fuck.” 

“Don’t push yourself.” V closed his book then looked at you. His gentle green eyes stared at you. You gave him a small smile then winced. You were starting to feel the aches your slumber numbed. V almost shot out of his seat to help you. You forced him back down when you hugged him. V hugged you back, pulling you into his lap. Your face was buried in his neck. His was buried in your hair. Both of you sat still letting your hug express what you were feeling.

V brushed your hair behind your ear then kissed your forehead. His head slightly dipped to peck your lips. You kissed him back wanting to deepen it. V pulled away. He did not want you doing anything that would further harm you. You complied by going back onto the “bed”. You scooched to the side so V could join you. You laid your head on his shoulder while he resumed reading poetry to you. Loosely you wrapped your arms around one of V’s. You glanced up at him noting a hint of a smile from him. You never wanted this moment to end.

Ruffling, shuffling and Griffon’s voice instantly woke you. You immediately thought you were getting attacked. Seeing Shadow lying on the “bed” said otherwise. Thank, god. You found V getting ready to leave. You were saddened but you knew V had to go after Urizen. Thinking about when you and V met made you giggle. V gave you a questioning look. “It seems I made the right call with my counter offer. Don’t you think?’

“Indeed.” V gave you a bittersweet smile.

“Having second thoughts?”

“...Not for the reason you think.”

“What do you mean?”

“...After today, you will never see me again…Remember?”

“Y-yeah, I remember…” You bit your lip to stop yourself from crying. You wanted V to stay with you and you could sense he wanted to stay with you. Both of you knew you couldn’t stay with each other. You were still healing. V would die if he chose to stay with you instead of going after Urizen. “So, this is ‘goodbye’?”

“I am afraid so.” V gave you one of his rings so you would remember him. He gave you one last kiss then made his departure. You couldn’t look away from him as he got further away from you.

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