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that-gay-guy-from-hell · 1 year

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Without You: Vergil x G/N Reader

Summary: You have been missing for some time now and Vergil is slowly losing it. The blue devil's constant fear and worry about you being dead has turned him into a shadow of hi former self; someone that is even capable of grinding on Dante's gears.

Another pretty story-heavy oneshot; six dividers (double equal signs) down for important parts if you want to skip the pre-text. ⏳⏳⏳ Once again, I reference the “Revenant Shotgun” as being your gun; I really think the gun is pretty lmao. You also use Beowulf. Minor blood/gut talk, nothing too serious though (figured I should mention it just in case). This is the first time I have tried to write combat since I was like 13, so forgive the (probably) less-than-adequate scene writing--I tried lol. ⏳⏳⏳ Pre-established relationship with Vergil. G/N reader. ⏳⏳⏳ Semi-angst followed by fluff (I don't know why I keep writing sad Vergil things; I swear I'll stop after this lmfao)

The air was stagnated and stale as Nero slowly sat up, groaning in pain. His head was pounding as he looked around, confused and disorientated. He slowly blinked as he got a grasp on his surroundings. With a huff, Nero mindlessly groped around his lower back for Blue Rose and found it missing. This snapped him to attention as he began to sporadically eye over the area around him.

His brow furrowed as he focused on Red Queen which was thrust into the ground nearly twenty feet away. Slowly standing up with a wince, he went over to the sword. As he yanked the stubbornly stuck blade from the ground, a glint of light caught his attention. Blue Rose was laying on the ground nearby.

Placing Red Queen on his back, he clicked his tongue and went to retrieve his sidearm. “What in the fuck happened?” Nero’s thoughts were a blur as he scrunched his face struggling to put together the broken pieces of his recent memories.

“Move it, asshole!” Nero insincerely barked as he held a growl from deep within his throat.

You ducked down into a roll, knowing that Nero was going to lose control soon and it was best not to argue with his demonic side. Using Beowulf to quickly spin upward and to your feet, you managed to make quick work of a Choas demon's spines. Seizing the opportunity, you aimed Revenant dead-center of the creature’s eyes and pulled the trigger. Smoothly holstering your shotgun, you continued fighting the onslaught of demons alongside the now devil-triggered Nero.

It was like a beautiful deadly dance when the two of you got into your well-practiced tango of destruction. Nero would typically take a more topside approach, using his wings to pull things to him and then dropping them to you. His over-the-top chaotic slashing and slicing would then be cleaned up by you underneath him. You, who had the completely opposite style, opted for a calm and collected approach, especially if you were using Vergil’s gear. Times like these are something you cherish dearly and never want to end--even if you are being coated by blood and demonic entrails.

A sudden out-of-place movement caught the corner of your eye as you tried to move out of its path; however, you weren’t quite fast enough and got thrown across the room.

Nero’s attention was drawn to your flying body, “What the--!” before he could think he was hammer fisted directly into the ground below him. With a bright-blue flash, his devil trigger ended, leaving a confused and human Nero looking up at a strange figure above him.

The demon was not one Nero had seen before--it reminded him of the descriptions of the “Third Beast of Revelations”. However, its appearance wasn’t quite as he remembered being told--only having four of the seven heads that it is supposed to have.

The young man stood up, “What the hell are you supposed to be, huh?” he smirked. The creature lunged at him, which Nero avoided. He laughed a bit holding the Blue Rose aimed at the back of the beast, “Too slow. Wanna try again?”

Nero sidestepped the demon again but was hit by an unexpected swing of its tail. He dropped his revolver as he was tossed across the room. Nero went to get up again. Before he moved back in, however, his ears twitched at a strange sound. The hunter turned to his side and realized that the noise was your breathing. Gently grabbing your shoulder, Nero tried to shake you awake. Revenant and Beowulf had been tossed far from your body and you were out cold. Seeing as there was a large amount of blood dripping from your forehead, that wouldn’t be changing any time soon.

“Shit,” Nero mumbled under his breath as he pulled Red Queen from the resting place on his back, “You’re gonna owe me big time.”

With an impossibly blinding speed, the young hunter took off toward the large demon. Nero’s face was in a grimace as he focused the best he could without his trigger. In hindsight, he was regretting using his demonic energy on such a simple fight before.

His attempt at defeating this beast alone was futile; it was much too strong for him in this state. Another large hit from the beast sent him flying in the opposite direction as before; leaving your unconscious body as far from him as possible. The demon also noticed this as it turned its sights to your limp form.

“Tch, shit-” Nero hastily got up on his feet and ran to your aid; however, it was too late. The beast had your body in its grasp as it curiously looked you over. “Put them down you fuck!” his mind was racing; if something happens to you, Vergil will kill him.

With a grunt, Nero sprung up at the demon. Who only batted him away again. He used Red Queen to stop himself from flying so far off. Knowing there wasn’t time, he left the sword and was going to fight using just his hands. Was it stupid? Yes. Did he care? No, not if it meant trying everything he could to protect you--someone who had become essentially his step-parent.

However, the demon had no intent on letting you leave this place with the youngest Sparda descendant. It opened a fissure through the floor, but before leaving, attacked Nero one last time. It sent him flying in an almost straight line across the room and into a wall, knocking the hunter out cold.

Nero stood in front of where he had last seen you lay, your weapons were still strewn about and your coat had fallen from your shoulders as you were snatched upward. A cold heavy feeling sunk in as he just stood there staring.

Slowly he gathered your gear, he didn't know how he was going to tell the others what happened. Nero didn’t know whose response would be worse; Dante mocking him for his lack of skill or Vergil who would undoubtedly lose it over this.

He just wanted to go back to the DMC and get this over with. Nero left the demon nest, not caring that he hadn’t finished the job. Outside, Nico was in her van waiting for the pair’s return.

Seeing Nero, she opened the door of the van, “Took y’all long--” she paused, seeing the gear in Nero’s arms, “Whoa, wait… Where’s--”

“I don’t know,” Nero mumbled, refusing to look Nico in the eye as he got into the vehicle.

“Whatdya’ mean ‘you don’t know’?” her voice was playful, thinking that Nero was just fucking with her as he placed the items on the table.

He leaned a bit onto the table with his palms flatly pressed against it, “I don’t know where they are..!” he grimaced as he stood back up with clenched fists, “Some fucking big asshole took ‘em”

Nico’s expression and pose changed from casual to a more serious one, “Wait-- they’re really missin’?” Nero’s frustrated stare said it all, “Holy crap-- Should we call your folks, I’m sure--”

“It wouldn’t help,” Nero relaxed his fists and took a deep breath trying to calm down, “They’ve been gone for a while, their scent’s gone.”

“Shit,” Nico pursed her lips as she paused for a moment, “Well, whaddya’ wanna do?”

Nero looked over to her, “I want to go to the shop. This is more important than the job.”

“Gotcha,” Nico wanted to poke at him but found herself unable to. Nero looked beyond exhausted and she knew that the brother’s responses will be more than punishing enough.

Neither of them spoke the whole way back.

Not wanting to be there when the three devils rip each other apart, Nico just dropped Nero in the garage and left.

Deciding to wait a moment before going in, Nero focused his hearing. He only heard one heartbeat meaning there was only one person at the shop when he returned. Thankfully, upon opening the door, it was Dante.

The red devil sat at his desk with his back to the garage, “Hey, you two are back early,” his gaze didn’t leave whatever he was doing on his desk, “Was thinking about ordering a pizza. You guys want anything?”

Nero’s face was pale and gave no response. He just simply walked over to the coffee table and plopped down your coat and weapons.

Dante pouted slightly with confusion, “If you don’t want--” his brow twitched as he noticed that there was only one person that had come in, “Hey where’s--” his happy expression dropped quickly. He moved around to the side of his desk to see what Nero had just set down.

“Dante-” Nero bit his tongue in thought, “Before you go off; hear me out?”

He scratched the stubble on his face, “Sure, go ahead kid.” he leaned back onto his desk.

Nero explained what happened and what attacked them. Surprisingly, Dante wasn’t mad or made any rude jabs about things. He just simply nodded along and paid close attention.

“Well Nero,” Dante shook his head and sighed, “As much as I want to give you shit-- You’re lucky to be alive. That bastard ain’t an easy thing to fight, ‘specially without a trigger handy…”

Nero’s gaze found its way back down to your gear, “You think they’re still alive, Dante?”

He sighed and stood back up, “If they weren’t, Vergil would know by now,” he bit his lip, “Question is: why did the demon want them alive?”

“Think Vergil would know?”

“Doubt it, he knows just as little as I do about those beasts…" he paused briefly before continuing, "Look, Nero,” Dante set a hand on the young man’s shoulder, “go home. I will tell Vergil about this whole thing. He’s already ripped off your arm, I really don’t want him to try ‘n gut you too. Okay?”

Nero was taken aback by what he said and nodded, “Thanks, Dante.”

“Any time kid,” Dante removed his hand, “Just don’t come back till I let you know it’s safe. Might take your old man a few days to calm down.”

“Sure thing,” Nero moved to the garage door, “Keep me posted, yeah?”

Dante gave a stiff nod to Nero as he watched him shut the door.

“Vergil’s just going to gut us instead… You’re a fuckin’ genius, Dante.” he sighed at his thoughts. What the hell was he going to do?

A few hours passed before the door finally swung open. Vergil stepped into the shop raising a brow at his brother who was at the desk asleep. With a sly smile and shake of his head, Vergil walked further into the room.

However, that smile quickly faded upon seeing Revenant, Beowulf, and your folded jacket sitting on the coffee table, “Dante.”

The younger twin slowly blinked as he opened his eyes and sat upwards, “Hm?”

“What is--” Vergil’s brow slowly furrowed further and further, “Why is their gear here?”

“Well..” Dante stood up and took a deep breath, “Look I ain’t gonna sugar coat it: They are missing.”

“ What? ” Vergil’s voice was sharp as he glared at Dante.

“Look, before you go and try to kill Nero--It wasn’t his fault,” Dante shrugged, “We would’ve had a tough time with what happened.”

Vergil made sure to enunciate each word clearly, “Dante, what happened.”

“They were attacked by one of those Revelation beasts. Your kid barely made it out. Nero said that they took your partner with them, so the demon wanted them alive for some reason.”

Vergil’s face went pale as his blood ran cold, “Where were they, I want to have a look at things.”

“Sure thing… I’m coming with though--you might need me,” Dante winked then stretched with a groan.

“Whatever.”

They did go look. Vergil found nothing. It was a dead end.

Several months had gone by and the usual bustling and jovial atmosphere of the Devil May Cry had faded. Now all that remained was a quiet angst and depressed mood that was brought on by one individual alone.

The silence was broken by the sound of the garage door opening. Standing in the doorway were the two twin sons of Sparda; Vergil stood in front of Dante. The eldest headed up to his room, not saying a word. His silent steps were filled with anger; an emotion that has become a common theme in recent times. Dante just stood, watching his brother go up the winding stairs.

Across the room, Nero sat on the couch. His gaze moved off of his phone and onto the remaining brother--who was already raiding the fridge, “Any luck, Dante?”

“No! There was absolutely fucking nothing.” Dante was seething as he looked over at Nero, “Your old man is just so… infuriating; I am this close to shoving the Yamato so far up his ass--.” with a pinch of the bridge of his nose, the youngest twin huffed out a heavy sigh.

Nero shook his head with a small laugh; knowing exactly how Dante felt. Vergil would barely talk to Nero without getting an irritated tone and becoming condescending, “Don’t worry, it’s only gonna keep getting worse; how long’s it been anyways--four months?”

Dante let out a nod of affirmation walking over to his desk. He kicked up his feet and cracked open the bottle drinking the majority of the bottle in one go, “You know, at this point, I wouldn't be surprised if Vergil’s going to storm his way down into Hell just to make sure he’s looked everywhere.”

“He’s that desperate, huh?” Nero sat forward more on the couch, paying more attention to what was being said.

“That doesn’t even come close to describing how Verge’s being. I mean,” Another wave of building frustration was slowing creeping onto Dante’s face signified by his furrowed brow, “I don’t blame him for being worried--I would be if it were my lover--but still…” he exasperatedly removed his boots from the desk, making a slight thud as they hit the floor, “-he doesn’t have to be such a dick about things. I’m trying to help.” Dante was attempting to find his happy place--lest he wants to have another hole in the drywall.

“Vergil being a dick is nothing new--you’d know that better than me--he’s just not used to needing help,” Nero stood up from the couch revealing a manila envelope in his hand, “On a better note: Morrison dropped this off while you were out, said it’s for your eyes only.”

“Really?” Dante reached forward and snatched the envelope, “I wonder what that means, Morrison doesn’t often--” his voice slowly drifted as something inside the folder caught his attention. He continued to flip through the documents faster and faster with a wide-eyed stare.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Nero leaned over trying to take a peek at the papers, “What’s so interesting, huh?”

Without answering, Dante jumped up from his seat. The youngest son of Sparda ran up the stairs and began to bang rapidly on a certain blue demon’s door, “Vergil! Vergil, open up! Come on! Verge--”

A door pushed hard into Dante’s shoulder as a set of mildly bloodshot iced-over eyes met his, “What is it?” Dante stood frozen for a moment, not expecting Vergil to have answered the door so quickly; let alone seeing him after he had been (what appeared to be) crying, “What do you want, Dante.” Vergil’s sharp tone cut Dante from his thoughts.

“Shit, sorry. Just--here,” he shoved the folder at Vergil, “have a look at this.”

Vergil lifted a brow in curiosity as he let go of the doorknob and stopped shoving the door into his little brother. Sighing quietly, Vergil began to sift through the documents and pictures; the further he read, the further his brow creased. Vergil’s voice was rough and cracked as he looked at Dante, “Where--”

“Morrison dropped it off while we were out. Gave it to Nero… Is it that what I think it is?”

Vergil cleared his throat and took a short pause, “It could be--I would have to see it to be sure.”

“Alright, then saddle up princess, we got a job to do,” and with that, Dante left before Vergil chastised him for the jab.

A few moments later, Vergil came downstairs with his demon hunting gear re-equipped. Dante stretched his arms upward cracking his back quite loudly, “Ready, Verge?” Vergil gave Dante a curt nod and began to walk toward the garage door. Before leaving, Dante humorously cooed at Nero, “Make sure to finish your homework and be in bed by 7. We will be back in the morning--so behave till then. Love youuu~” flashing a wide sharp-toothed grin, he waved and headed for the door--ignoring the fact that Nero just whipped him off.

“Where is the location?” Vergil’s voice was deadpan as he unsheathed the Yamato.

“Here-” Dante handed Vergil the paper with the address, “So, what are we gonna do if it really is--”

“Silence." Vergil’s voice was sharp as his eyes turned to a harsh squint in irritation; tossing the folder off to the side.

Dante pursed his lips, pouting slightly at his brother’s attitude; but, didn’t feel like bantering so he remained silent.

Upon exiting the portal, the twins looked in front of them. The object of the job was before them, a large nest that was crawling with demons. Not wanting to waste time, they both ventured forward.

A few hours passed as the brothers slashed their way through the mound’s inhabitants. Dante and Vergil stopped for a moment to catch their breath.

Dante adjusted his coat, “So, how far down do you think it’ll be? We gonna have to go all the way?”

“Most likely,” Vergil slicked his hair back, “Is that a problem?”

“ ‘Course not, just was wonderin’,”

Vergil didn’t respond and just continued forward, Dante following in toe.

Dante cracked his knuckles, “So if it is-- then what?”

“I do not know--nor will I know until I see it.”

“Really hope that this lead is real and not another stupid hoax,” Dante frowned.

“If it is not worth our time,” Vergil’s voice was filled with more hostility with every word, “I will make sure to give the client a visit .”

“No-- Vergil you can’t kill our clients; we are demon hunters, not people hunters. Plus, this nest needed to be taken care of anyway.”

The eldest twin only scoffed in response.

It had been nearly eight hours since entering the nest and they still had no signs of what they were looking for. Both of them were getting crabby at this point; Vergil about the lack of evidence and Dante because of Vergil’s attitude.

“I swear--” Dante growled in frustration, “I am going to just fucking dig my way to the bottom of this fucking bastard.”

“That is impossible,” Vergil’s voice held no emotion.

“I know, I am just getting sick of this shit,” he groaned, “Just feels like we are getting nowhere--that’s all.”

Vergil stopped and tilted his head up slightly. Upon seeing this, Dante stopped as well.

“Verge, I didn’t-”

Vergil turned his head to the left and began to walk.

Dante rolled his eyes and pivoted in a grandiose manner, “Okay-ay, I guess we are goin’ this way now.”

They walked in silence for a few more minutes before coming to a dead end. Vergil began to scowl and stare at the wall.

“That’s a mighty fine wall there Verge, but what-”

“Break it.”

“... What?” Dante double-took at his brother’s words.

“I want you to break down this wall,” Vergil’s eyes moved sharply off the wall and to Dante.

“Look, Vergil, I made a joke about breaking shit down--wasn’t actually going to start--”

“Do as I say, Dante,” Vergil snarled, “Break. It. Down.”

Dante sighed, driving his sword into the ground, and responded by using a mocking baby voice, “Fine, mister grumpy pants.”

Using his Sin Trigger, Dante made quick work of the wall. The pair quickly stepped through as the hole repaired itself behind them. He shifted back into his human form and jogged after Vergil, who was already going forward. Another half hour passed of Vergil's speed walking forward intensely focused on something.

“Soooo… Plan on telling me what exactly you’re doing or are you gonna make me guess?”

Vergil hit Dante flat across the chest with a sheathed Yamato; before Dante could protest, he saw what his brother was staring at.

In front of them stood a fairly huge demon--the same one from the job's folder. The creature was similar to a centaur; however, a lizard (or demon) had been thrown into the mix as well.

A large spear was held by one of its three-fingered hands. On the body, there were three sets of violet claws; the legs of which were covered in a thick dark midnight blue fur with bits of sky blue streaks scattered throughout. Three maroon-scaled tails protruded from the back of the creature, a thin cerulean membrane trailing up the middle of each topside and trailing up the base of the creature’s skull.

Layered scales, colored the same as the tail’s, ran up the underbelly, body, and torso of the demon. Pale teal-green scaled skin was exposed through the frontline of the torso, showing off a muscular structure similar to that of a human.

Continuing up those scales led you to the head of the beast. It was similar in shape to a human’s but had seven eyes of pure milky white which filled the entire front due to the lack of a mouth. Extending from the sides of the face, there were clay-grey semi-transparent frills--appearing very much like a frilled lizard’s--that ran from the underside of the jaw up to a set of horns that the frills connected to.

Dante nudged Vergil, “Man, I thought Lady’s demon form was ugly--theirs takes the cake. Good job using that nose of yours and finding your mate, good thing you--” he stopped noticing his brother’s glazed-over stare.

Vergil was paying no mind to Dante or anything around him. His eyes were focused on the trinket that was embedded right in between the creature’s collar bones, nestled deep in the suprasternal notch. His blood ran cold as he would know that jewelry anywhere; it was his amulet half--the one he had gifted you on your anniversary nearly a year ago. He stood, unmoving--not even taking deep enough breaths to move his chest. Everything in him told him to fight the capsule of a demon in front of him; yet, he couldn’t bring himself to.

Dante, however, was paralyzed by neither fear, grief, nor anger; he was actually glad they finally found you. Giving one last glance at his, still very frozen, brother Dante moved into the large space--drawing the demon’s attention.

“So,” he started, “this is where you’ve been hanging out, huh? ‘Place is kind of a drag if you ask me,” Curiously, the demon slowly approached Dante, staring at him, “You ain’t gotta make this hard--just lay that big stick down and let us-” he looked back at Vergil, who still hadn’t moved, “or well let me get you outta there. Whaddya say?”

It stood in front of the younger brother for a moment then turned its head to look at Vergil. Without even returning their attention back to Dante, they punted the younger brother across the room with one swing of its paw. A loud crack emanated from the force of him hitting--and going through--the wall.

“Son of a Bitch…” With a groan, Dante slowly stood back up, “And I’m supposed to believe you’re the same person that gives me shit for my hugs.”

Digging his heels into the ground, Dante took off running. He raised his Devil Sword as he got within striking distance; however, the demon only backhanded him, sending him flying once more. The creature still hadn’t torn its gaze from Vergil; it almost seemed as if it was trying to place the eldest son. Dante attempted to strike again, only to be hit away for a third time.

The eldest son’s mind was racing; between infinite anger that spiraled to the deepest darkest depths of his demon and immense guilt for not protecting you eating at his human consciousness--Vergil, for the first time in a long time, was completely frozen. He was your boyfriend, your lover, your mate; he should’ve been there to protect you: instead, you ended up suffering something that he wouldn’t wish upon anyone.

“Okay, you bastard,” Dante sniffled as blood began to drip from his nose, pulling out Ivory & Ebony, “Let’s try this, shall we?”

Upon feeling the bullets hit the side of their legs, the demon turned to Dante--finally breaking their piercing staredown. It trotted towards Dante and swung its spear, only missing Dante by mere inches. He jumped onto the spear and ran up it, still firing the twin pistols. The creature used its free hand to grab Dante; moving much faster than the devil hunter had expected, and began to constrict him.

“Heh, you got quite the--,” he let out a strained groan, “quite the grip.”

Dante struggled a bit trying to loosen the demon’s grip. He couldn’t focus like this and, if he couldn’t focus, triggering (in any capacity) was off the table. So, Dante did what any younger sibling would do; he started to yell for his big brother.

“Vergil-- I could use a hand here!” Dante’s body started to ache from the pressure, “God damn it! VERGIL!”

The loud shouting from his baby brother pulled Vergil from his thoughts. He looked up at Dante and started moving. The demon’s attention was now drawn to the sudden movement of the oldest brother and ever-so-slightly loosened its grip. Not wanting to waste the chance, Dante quickly triggered; making the demon drop the lava-hot Dante.

“He-hey! Nice to see you finally helping out,” Dante rolled avoiding the large spear.

Glaring over at Dante, Vergil teleported near the creature’s ankle and sliced it with Mirage Edge; coating him with the creature’s blood.

Vergil moved to Dante’s side taking advantage of the few moments of reprieve the attack gave them.

“So, got any ideas?” Dante tried to wipe some of the blood off of Vergil’s face using his coat; however, Vergil harshly swatted away his hand.

Vergil’s brow furrowed, “Its front and neck would be the best places to try and cut it open; given its scales might be much thicker than I think…”

Dante twitched his head to the side in a nod, the ghost of a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, “Better than nothing. Shall we?”

The twins decided to split, each going opposite ways. Confused about what to do, it followed Dante with its body while attempting to use its tails and back paws to hit Vergil.

Dante took another large hit and created another crater in the wall. He fell to the ground catching himself at the last moment, coming to rest in a kneel. He took a moment to wipe some blood that had begun to drip from his mouth.

A large heavy object slammed into Dante, it was Vergil. The two of them hit the wall together, Vergil’s weight only shoving Dante further into the already-created crater: they both were going to be sore after this.

They both removed themselves from the wall and stood side by side, both slouching slightly.

With a growl-covered groan, Vergil’s eyes sharpened their gaze upon the demon, “You still have a trigger left in you, brother?” his breath had become slightly ragged.

Despite his exhaustion, Dante clapped back with his typical sarcastic tone, “Always--you sure you wanna use yours?” Dante straightened his posture.

Vergil flicked out his arm on the side opposite Dante, summoning his doppelgänger, “For this, yes.”

There was a flash of light and the two were both in their Sin Triggers. It was quite the sight, one that only would occur when the brothers were fighting themselves. Neither of them had to tell the other what the plan was; perks of being twins as Dante would say.

Taking the same approach as before, they spilt ways--Doppel following beside Vergil.

The demon was confused and turning itself around in circles over how many fast-moving targets it was now presented with. Vergil and Doppel managed to keep the creature’s attention long enough that Dante was able to get behind the creature’s head. With great strength, Dante grabbed the creature’s horns and pulled its head back. He did his best to keep it steady; however, it thrashed like a bull and unexpectedly was able to shake Dante around. Seeing his brother struggling, Vergil sent Doppel to assist him. With the two both pulling on the creature in opposite directions, the thrashing slowed.

Seizing the opportunity, Vergil shot up the midline of the torso cutting along it with the Yamato. Once he reached the bottom of the amulet, he stopped and fell back to the ground calling back Doppel; Dante followed suit.

They both stood as humans, having exhausted their demonic energy, staring with bated breath. The demon’s midline showed the cut; however, nothing was happening.

“Verge ain’t--” Dante’s face went pale after turning towards his older brother.

Vergil looked pissed, no, he looked beyond pissed. His grip had tightened on the Yamato so hard his knuckles were turning colors. Without warning, Vergil triggered himself once more and took off toward the demon; this time, however, the creature wasn’t being held back by others.

He jumped off of the spear that had been swung and avoided the other hand’s attempt at grabbing the blue devil. His speed was unimaginable as he was instantaneously on top of the demon’s head. With great effort, he plunged Mirage Edge deep into the scaly skin and tissues of the creature. Swiftly, he yanked the blade down the middle of the face, down the throat, and stopped above the necklace. With one of his forearm blades, Vergil gouged out the amulet and tore it from its resting place.

A large amount of blood began to spew from the new incision. Vergil was thrown violently from the beast as it began to flail about. A plume of blue energy emitted from the man as he hit the floor--hard. Dante ran over to the hole containing the other twin with slight concern. The once again human, Vergil lay unmoving in the newly-formed crater as Dante slid down to his brother’s side.

“Hey, you’re not dead--right?” the red demon poked Vergil slightly.

Vergil slowly opened his eyes and glared up at Dante, “It will take much more to kill me,” he sat up and groaned quietly in pain, “I assure you, little brother.”

Dante laughed and offered a hand to help Vergil up; which, normally he wouldn’t accept but today Vergil was too exhausted to fuss over such things.

Upon exiting the crater they found the demon laying on its belly like a resting horse, slowly bleeding out from Vergil’s second attack.

Vergil moved to finish it off but was stopped by Dante’s forearm, “Allow me.”

Dante carefully used his Devil Sword and re-cut over the Yamato’s shallow slice. Although the demon was dying, it did put up somewhat of a fight by swinging its hands and claws at Dante; all the while, its gaze found Vergil’s again--who was slowly approaching the suffering creature.

“Just die already, you son-of-a-bitch,” Dante growled through his teeth as he dug his sword further into the demon’s stomach, making it shout an ear-piercing sad cry; which sounded almost human-- Vergil did his best to ignore that part.

The demonic corpse dissolved slowly. Vergil had made it to his brother’s side as he watched the disintegration before them. He bent over and picked up the amulet that he had dropped while being thrown around. With a gentle sigh, Vergil placed it into his pocket and stood back up.

The pair's attention was now drawn to where the head of the beast once lay. In its place, you were laying there; naked and dead to the world. At first, the brothers thought you were actually dead but then they heard your faint heartbeat and took a sigh of relief.

Vergil’s expression was a strange mixture of joy, anger, and sadness. He walked over to you, his steps were cautious and silent. Once by your side, Vergil removed his coat, gently wrapped you in it, and picked you up. His brief moment of solace was interrupted by a large tremor.

“Hey, uh, Verge--” Dante quickly moved to his brother’s side, “You gonna be able to get us outta here?”

Vergil paused for a moment giving thought to whether he could or not, “Yes,” he pursed his lips.

Dante noticed his hesitation and was going to question him; however, the younger brother quickly put together why. “Vergil, hand them to me--you can’t use Yamato like that.”

“No, I--” another tremor broke off a part of the ceiling nearby, “Fine.”

Vergil handed you over to Dante and pulled out the Yamato. With a deep breath, he sliced open a portal and traversed through with Dante right behind him.

Once out of the other side, Vergil didn’t even give Dante a chance to think before ripping you from him. Vergil knows that Dante wouldn’t dare hurt you, however, he had an overwhelming urge to keep you far from anyone besides himself.

Dante looked around and scratched the stubble on his jaw, “Uh, Vergil… This ain’t the shop,” the pair was standing where they had entered nearly twelve hours prior.

With a low mumble, Vergil avoided looking at Dante, “I don’t have the energy for that…”

Dante bit his tongue hard--all he wanted to do was poke fun at Vergil and would have if Vergil was in a better headspace. Instead, he just simply nodded at Vergil, “Well… I can call a ride if you want..? I’m sure Nico wouldn’t mind picking us up--given she’ll want a cut of the pay.”

“She can have my half; I got what I came for,” money was the furthest thing from the blue devil's mind, all he could think about was that he finally had you back.

“Alright--you sure you’re okay with--”

“Yes.”

Dante let out a small ‘heh’ and pulled out his very well-protected phone.

Nico showed up around an hour later. Once stopped, the door swung open, and out strode Nero.

He looked over at his father and uncle, who were sitting on a ledge and the floor respectively.

“Holy shit, you actually found them? Nico said that Dante-- I didn’t believe her…” Nero extended a hand to help the very sore Dante off the ground. Without so much as a nod to his son, Vergil got into the van.

Dante groaned and cracked his back, “Don’t take it personally, kid. Vergil’s in a weird mood.”

“What happened? I saw the folder that was thrown on the floor of the garage, but--” the pair began to walk to the van side-by-side, “I don’t get how you knew.”

“When we get back… or after I take a hot shower and nap… I’ll fill you in on the details at some point,” Dante slumped down on the couch in the van that was opposite Vergil.

Before Nero could protest at Dante’s wait time, the younger twin was sound asleep--even snoring a little.

With everyone in the van, Nico began to drive; despite Nero still standing. Before the youngest Sparda descendant went up to his seat, he turned to Vergil, “You uh… gonna be okay?” Nero felt awkward asking the typically stoic man such an out-of-character question.

Vergil looked up at Nero with a confused tilt to his brow then back down to you, “In time, yes.”

Nero nodded--shocked that he got anything other than ‘yes’ or the silent treatment--and went up to the passenger seat for the rest of the quiet ride back to the shop.

The moment the van stopped; even before Nico had turned off the ignition, Vergil got up and was out the van door. He thinks he heard someone say something as he left, but he didn’t care. All he wanted right now was to be in his room with you in his arms. Quickly and quietly he headed up the stairs and into his room.

The eldest son prides himself on being the cleanest member of the Sparda line; however with you being gone, he had stopped caring about such trivial things. The room had quite a few sets of worn and unworn outfits strewn about. Several cups of half-drank liquids sat on various tabletops. The room wasn't messy by normal standards but Vergil was far from "normal".

He walked over to his bed. Vergil moved you so he could support your body with one arm and fixed the disheveled mess that was his bed. Once satisfied, he set you down on the bedding; he noticed that you were filthy --which wasn’t surprising due to what had occurred.

Vergil hesitantly left his room to get some warm water, rags, and some medical supplies. It took him a moment to figure out what to grab--he wasn’t the best at treating wounds, he hasn’t ever needed to know such things; so he was as methodical as possible. Seeing how Vergil was struggling to find what he needed, Nero silently helped his father gather what was needed. Vergil gave Nero a solid nod in acknowledgment of his help.

Upon returning to his room, Vergil began to gently wash your dirt and blood-ridden skin. While doing so, he noticed his hands had begun to shake. Furrowing his brow and pursing his lips in confusion, he stopped momentarily. Vergil never shakes, so what was going on?

Using exhaustion as an explanation, he dismissed it with a shake of his head. Vergil continued to clean your body. You had visibly become slimmer from the several months of entrapment. His eyes moved up to your face, you were still sound asleep but he noticed that you looked deathly sick.

He took the rag and rung it out. Your body was cleaned; however, you were still covered in wounds. Vergil knew that he couldn’t do anything for the copious amounts of bruises you had, so he moved to take care of several burn marks you had obtained; most of which were around your neck from Dante pulling on your demonic prison. Vergil put some burn cream onto his fingers and softly rubbed it on the marks. Letting out a shaky sigh, he moved on to the last thing he had to tend to before dressing you.

The Yamato might not have mortality wounded your capsule, but it seemed to have nicked your midline all the way up--the cut was too thin and clean to have been from Dante’s Devil Sword. After wiping his hands off, he applied an antibiotic gel along the cut. If you had been awake, you would have cussed him out, no doubt. The thought brought a small smirk to Vergil’s face.

He grabbed the gauze and began to dress the wound; however, Vergil stopped. His vision had become blurry and his mind went blank. During these past four months, he had cried a few times, but it was always controlled and well-restrained.

Right now, though? He felt like screaming. He felt like weeping until he became ill. All he wanted to hear was your voice, to feel your lips on his face, to be held as he sobbed uncontrollably. Vergil felt like a little kid again; alone and afraid of losing those he loves. A whimpering hiccup brought him out of his thoughts as he looked up at you. Confusion sunk in as he saw you were still fast asleep.

He froze. The noise had come from him. Vergil tried to suppress his tears; he hard-shut his eyes, tried angrily furrowing his brow, and even tried looking upwards; nothing worked.

Nothing could stop the storm of pitiful tears that leaked from his tired eyes. So, he worked through them and finished patching you up the best the blue devil could.

Another strained whimper left his lips as he straightened himself back up. You didn’t live at the DMC with the brothers, so Vergil did not have any of your clothes. He knew he couldn’t just leave you naked (since anyone could walk in and see you) so he rustled through his clothing. Vergil didn’t have much in the sense of “casual” clothes which made this difficult.

Eventually, he decided on a pair of loose-fitting jeans and a sleeveless black turtleneck. He managed to get you into the much-too-big clothing and tucked you into the duvet of his bed.

Vergil spent the rest of the night by your side holding your hand as he quietly grieved.

Sunlight spilled into the dark room through the slightly ajar curtains. It was nearly noon and Vergil hadn’t moved from his spot next to you. Nero and Dante had both peaked in to check on you and the visibly exhausted hunter a few times… which they only got stared at in response.

The blue devil could hear your heart and your breathing just fine; but, was unable to keep himself from thinking you weren’t going to make it. He had convinced himself that this whole ordeal was his fault.

“Maybe if you hadn’t had such a noticeable trinket on you wouldn’t have been taken.” he thought, “or was it because you have been associated with our cursed bloodline that this happened?”

He felt a stinging in his eyes start once more, “I should have been there. It is my job to protect you and keep you safe. I failed you just like I have to everyone else,” his lips quivered as his breath stuttered, “Perhaps you would be better off without me,” Vergil’s chest heaved and his face twisted into a grimace. Once more, he had lost control of his emotions as he unintentionally tightened his grip on your hand.

“You trying to break my fingers?” a hoarse sarcastic voice snapped Vergil to attention. You had woken up and were staring at him with a gentle concerned crease of your brow.

Without a word, Vergil pulled you into a tight hug. Even if he wanted to say anything, he couldn’t; not in the distraught state he was in. Although you were still weak, you began to rub his back as you hugged. You relished in his scent and touch; something that felt like a distant memory while ensnared in the demon’s body.

“Miss me?” you heard and felt him shutter. He pushed further into you making you acutely aware of the large slice on your midsection, “Ow, fuck--”

Vergil left the hug upon realizing what happened and, still unable to speak, pointed to your torso. With unsteady hands, you rolled up the very loose black fabric, “Oh…”

Pulling the shirt back down, you looked at Vergil. His face was puffy and his eyes were bloodshot with prominent tear stains running down his face. Slowly you reached for your lover’s face and gently thumbed one of the tears from his cheek.

Vergil grabbed your hand and held it to his lips, just setting them against your cold skin. His expression was a mixture of painful sadness and overbearing happiness. A crease formed on his brow as he shut his eyes tightly. You could see Vergil trying to piece together what to say.

A few brief moments passed before he spoke, scarcely louder than a whisper, “I thought…” you felt his lips shake against your clammy skin, “I thought you were…” Vergil couldn’t bring himself to finish his words.

You sadly smiled as you used your held hand to thumb over his stiff fingers, “and leave you alone? Not in a million years, Vergil.”

The tremble in his lips worsened as his lips gently kissed your hand, stifling a whimper.

After he let go of your hand, you moved to sit on the edge of the bed allowing your feet to dangle off the side, “Come here..?” you beckoned to your unraveling lover.

“Are you sure--I do not want to hurt you again,” his response was sheepish and meek.

Not taking no for an answer, you grabbed his hand and pulled him onto your lap. Having the large devil on your lap would have typically been uncomfortable; but, your want to hold him and comfort him in such a distraught state overrode every other thought.

He hesitantly straddled your lap. You noticed his uncertainty and gently pulled him closer, “Let me hold you, please?” you were trying to reassure him.

Which seems to have worked; he hastily put his arms around you. He held on tightly grabbing wads of the loose shirt’s fabric as if he were actively being pulled off of you. Since he was taller than you, his head rested atop yours. The side of your face was resting on his chest and your arms were wrapped around him as you began to rub his back once more.

The man’s breathing became ragged as he fought with himself and his emotions.

“Vergil, it’s going to be okay,” you lovingly rubbed your face against his chest, hearing his heart racing, “you can let go now.”

This small set of words finally undid the eldest son of Sparda.

You had seen Vergil cry before, but only in small quiet amounts; never as raw and shattered as this. The hunter began to shake within your grasp. The only noise coming from the man was loud uncontrolled sobs and sharp breathing. His grip on the shirt had become a death grip; holding on tight enough to rip through the tightly woven fabric. A deep rumble came from his chest as it seemed even his demon was crying out in anguish.

Deep within, you knew that these tears were for much more than your own disappearance. You knew that this strong soul had finally reached a breaking point. Closing your eyes, you pushed yourself into him and held him tightly, whispering sweet words of comfort to him. Gently and slowly, you kneaded against his back with your hands; knowing that it would comfort the blue devil.

Eventually, his cries slowed and his grip loosened. Vergil’s body shifted as he longingly kissed the top of your head. Letting out a heavy sigh and shutter, he leaned back. You smiled at him. Vergil smiled in return, his eyes creased at the edges pushing the few remaining tears from his eyes. He took one of his hands and placed it on your bicep. The other found its way to your face. He thumbed over your cheek and lips with an undertone of uncertainty and disbelief; that this was real, that you were home.

You leaned into the warmth of his palm, “I missed you too, Vergil…” a wave of a soft sadness mixed with love washed over you, “so very much.”

ENDING NOTES: Hope y’all like the art with this one--admittedly this would’ve been done much sooner if I hadn’t decided to add that. The scales and all textures are not things I drew; they are all sampled from real things--the feet, for example, are textured using orange peel(s). All colors (except the maroon scales) are from Nelo Angelo and both of Vergil’s sin triggers--I did change some saturations, but the basis for them is all from the stoic man’s palettes. ⏳⏳⏳ I swear the next thing is not going to be more angsty/sad Vergil. I actually was writing this alongside “What Would They Think”--I’d get bored with one and write some for the other lol. Hopefully, you enjoyed this story! Much love y’all (I’m thinking something with V or Nero next; which, Nero’s H/Cs are the hardest thing for me to write for some fucking reason lmao idk what is going on with that.)

Bonus short story that I wrote as a warm-up; post story stuff:

Nero walked down the stairs of the Devil May Cry with a prominent dejected expression. With a small bounce to his step, the youngest Sparda descendant walked towards the fridge; however, an ‘ahem’ cough caught his attention.

J.D. Morrison was sitting on the edge of Dante’s desk smoking his typical stogie. The said owner of the desk was sitting there with a manilla folder in hand, staring at Nero.

Dante set the folder down, “So--” he leaned back in his chair, “How is he?”

Nero quickly glanced between the two, unsure of what he should and could say in front of the company broker.

The red devil raised a brow, “Well?”

“Uh-” Nero centered himself into Dante’s view, “He’s okay. Nothing’s really changed much.”

Dante slowly nodded and bit his tongue in thought for a moment, “... They awake?”

“No, doesn’t seem like they’ve even moved.”

“Damn it,” the younger twin sighed, “Let’s hope they do soon; I can’t stand seeing him like that.”

Nero shrugged, “At least Vergil’s not going to be a dick anymore.”

Dante laughed, “Careful, you might jinx us.” he grabbed the folder he had previously been paging through, “Interested in doing a job with me--takin’ Verge’s place for now?”

Nero took the folder from his uncle. After paging through it and reading it a bit Nero smiled slightly, “Sure, why not. Anything to get me out of here.”

“Good--” Dante turned his attention to Morrison, “We’ll take it.”

The broker smiled, “Glad to hear it. When--”

A loud abrupt noise cut off J.D.’s question. It had come from above them and Nero bolted to the stairs.

“Wait! Nero-” Dante got up fast enough to knock his chair over. He tackled Nero into the wall, preventing his ascension upward, “Stop.”

“Let go of me!” Nero shoved Dante off of him.

Dante put Nero in a sloppy cradle pin; holding him still, “Listen for a minute.”

The young hunter stopped struggling. He furrowed his brow as he whispered, “Is that crying? ”

With the same volume, Dante responded, “Yeah, it’s from Vergil.”

They untangled from the floor and stood up. Both of them decided to grab their gear before Dante acknowledged the semi-confused Morrison, “Let’s take this somewhere else--give Vergil his privacy.”

“Fine by me,” he stood up from the desk, “Although it would be nice to get an explanation once we leave.”

Dante nodded with an unintentional smile, “Not much to say… Just a long overdue reunion.”

ENDING NOTES (FOR THE SECOND STORY): I figure that Vergil and Dante might not get along per se, but are able to be kind of nice to each other. Giving each other support or defense when needed; they are family after all. (This is why Dante wants to leave)

Want to see more like this? Want to read my work quicker and several stories that are not on Tumblr? Check this out on my AO3 (Linked here)

MASTER LIST FOR TUMBLR

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smolvenger · 9 months

Text

A Court of Mischief and Purpose Chapter Five (Loki x fem! Reader, Hiddlesverse A Court of Thorns and Roses AU)

Chapter Summary: As you get to know the different variants of Loki, his purpose of uniting them is revealed. There is a crucial threat to your worlds...and you make a decision regarding Will.

Chapter Warnings: Discussions of cheating, and violence. Odin being Odin (tm). Some angst and some fluff/comfort.

Chapter Word Count: 6K

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @evelyn-kingsley @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @muddyorbsblr

Chapter One//Chapter Two//Chapter Three//Chapter Four

“Now, to our purpose!” Loki announced.

The last servant passed by the food. For breakfast, you learned that Norse Gods enjoyed foods similar to your own- only very hot and hearty. Eggs and thick slices of bread and butter. Not like the overcooked burnt bits your mother tended to make. You began to enjoy some. Though one servant did bring some coffee, especially for you. You smiled up at her and then she bowed and left.

Robert turned his head watching the door close. Then he turned back.

“Are the rumors…true?” Loki asked.

Robert sighed, “Only one of us can confirm that. It’s not my job to snoop around.” He picked up a piece of bread and munched at it.

He turned to Jonathan. Jonathan crossed his arms. He let out a deep sigh, retaining his frown.

“Yes, it is true as far as I can tell. Grendel and his mother have made an alliance with the Dark Elves.”

You nearly dropped your cup as you were lifting to have a drink.

“Grendel?! That’s the same name as…do you mean from Beowolf?” you cut in.

Jonathan turned to you with a nod.

“One and the same!��

You leaned forward, your eyes widening to Loki.

“Are you telling me that Grendel is real?! And still alive?! I thought Beowolf killed him and his mother!” you cried.

“You actually believe that poem? Hm, you’re a bookish girl, aren’t you?” Robert commented.

“Well, my lady, Grendel, and his mother turned out to be real…I was as surprised as you,” Hal said. He picked up another orange and began to peel it with his dagger.

Loki gave a wide smile and leaned toward you.

“I’ll be the one to explain, my dear. Long ago, Beowolf lost to Grendel in a fight. Beowulf fled with his tail between his legs and a few broken bones. He used his time recuperating from his injuries to write an entire poem about how he completely defeated Grendel easily. He spread it through his kingdom- so they all believed him! Why else would he write a whole, long poem boasting about how wonderful he is?”

Loki turned to Jonathan. He kept his fork and knife politely on the plate, cutting up his food and taking small bites. You could smell Hal’s orange as he set the discarded peel on the plate.

“In the taverns, those drinking and caroling sometimes mention Grendel. Only briefly. Most laugh and shrug it aside. But only a wise few are genuinely fearful. As they should be…”

Loki looked at all of them. The forks and knives stopped with the gravity of his voice.

“Grendel is a powerful being. Far more than the poem wrote. And far smarter. Gets it from his mother. Between the two of them, he’s determined to do what it takes to invade and rule all of us…and he is looking for ways to do it easily.”

“There is…another rumor…” Jonathan began. “But it’s something.”

Heads turned over.

“Well-what is it?” Robert pressed. He lifted his own drink and took a long sip.

Jonathan then set down his hands and folded them across the table. He looked seriously at every person there.

“They say there is a prophet…he resides in Jotenheim. He is one of the Frost Giants. But he has ancient knowledge. Of things that are, will be, and might be. I heard he might have…information. That Grendel has a weakness. Now- all that are rumors. But the prophet knows what it is. If we give him something, he will return the favor and tell us.”

“What sort of something?” Robert asked, arching an eyebrow.

“He accepts offers of food, of warmth.”

“Warmth? Ironic for a Frost Giant!” Loki commented.

You leaned forward. “But… and let's assume the worst-if Grendel has an alliance with these Dark Elves, whoever they are, I assume it means he has an army… How will any of you stand against an army?” you asked.

Loki tilted to you. He rested an elbow on the table and looked at you, resting his hand to rub on his chin.

“You are far from wrong. And do you think I would let these mortals near an army and ask them to defeat them all? No! We knew Grendel had a weak spot. If we located what it is and asked this prophet. That is our mission. To discover this weakness of his and take care of it. We get the weak spot, I doubt that the army will be behind him.

Loki turned to Jonathan.

“Do you have anything else to report from your spying?”

Robert Laing took out a cigarette. You could smell the smoke where he was. Hal then turned to Loki.

“I heard one thing. Now, I a spy? No! But I do hear that Odin plans on naming his heir. Perhaps going during the day of the ceremony will keep him distracted.” Loki froze. The corners of his lips twitched. He stared and blinked once. Then he frowned gently.

“That is…a good idea…I will be expected to go but…the rest of you may.

He swallowed. Something in his eyes dimmed - a sadness. Then he blinked rapidly and threw a hand up.

“Now, enough! Please, let us move on…where is Thomas?”

“Thomas? Yes- you mentioned another? Is he staying here too?” you asked.

In answer, in walked another gentleman. His clothes were not too far off from what men of your time wore. He looked a lot like Loki- an uncommonly handsome man with curly dark hair blue eyes and pale skin. In his arms were several contraptions.

“Please forgive the delay. A gear was spinning the wrong way!” he said.

He went over and sat down on the table. He flourished out a napkin and set it on his lap.

“Loki, we have been going and going…but if I’m going to find something to track him, I will need some magic to my devices, as you promised. I have been working at it all mo-”

His voice cut off. His eyes went to you. You gave him a smile and he gave a beautiful one back to you.

“Oh…we have a new guest?” he crooned.

Loki nodded.

“Thomas, this is the ever-charming Y/N- she hails from a small town in Essex. She’s another guest in the palace.” Loki introduced.

He nodded to you with his head, his eyes were so bright you felt something flutter inside you. He was a natural charmer.

“Why- Miss Y/L/N, the pleasure is mine. I am Sir Thomas Sharpe, esquire.”

“Sir?” you asked. “Are you a lord?”

“A baronet,” he answered.

“A Baronet! Then it should be mine! I am so honored- I never met a Baronet before!”

“Well, now you have, Miss Y/L/N,” he answered.

You curtsied excitedly and he smiled. You saw Loki frown at him. Something glimmering in his eyes. He began to fork at some eggs and eat. After he smiled, you turned to the baronet.

“What brings you to Loki?” you asked.

“I’m working on an invention for him. A contraption to find Grendel. He tends to hide a lot. I am sure that Loki’s magic could help. As well as anything to help with training,” Thomas explained.

You looked around.

“Training? For fighting?” you asked.

Loki nodded.

“It is a requirement of my little circle. We train to know how to fight. I do have my beloved daggers.”

With his magic, a dagger-long and sharp- appeared in his hand.

“But one must know how to wield them. Thomas and Robert must especially practice. Hal knows of battling with swords…”

Hal smirked.

“I was raised to be a warrior. Shrewsberry changed me.”

“And it is Jonathan who teaches sparring and the like. Far less elegant in my opinion. But it strengthens the body and gets the job done,” Loki added.

“You have…fought before, Mr. Pine?” you asked.

Jonathan sighed.

“Yes. I was a soldier. I’ve seen battles. Been part of many, in fact,” he replied calmly.

Robert tipped off the burning end of his cigarette.

“Just go to our time, Loki. Find a gun and just shoot Grendel!” he suggested.

Loki let out a laugh in spite of himself.

“If it was that easy, I would have done it! But Grendel has survived many years for a reason. I doubt a mortal bullet would scratch him.”

“I will say- training is an excellent workout. Far more exciting than any gym I’ve been to,” Robert replied.

You thought about it. You were…weak. You could see her again. See Cora again. Leaping about and running. Even with no bloody corset to prove how superior she was to the other women. But…strong. Getting dirty and going about in the muck and through forests and beaches. And was that why Will…lost interest in you? Betrayed you for a “stronger” woman? You felt a tear curl up on your face.

Robert turned his head.

“Y/N…are you alright?” he asked.

You wiped off the stray tear with your napkin and then asked on impulse.

“Could I join? Just for one?! I would like to train to fight too,’ you announced.

They all looked at you. You folded your hands back in your lap.

“I would like to train with you…to be…be strong. Please teach me how to fight like the rest of you!”

If you said such things back home, it would very, very, very likely be immediately shut down. You prepared for it. The verbal rejections. The rolling of eyes. Sighing. Even laughter.

There was nothing like that here. Loki then blinked and smiled.

“Oh…of course…if you would like to, you shall! I’m sure any help concerning Grendel would be appreciated, my dear.” Loki replied.

Your eyebrows shot up. Hal did squint a little, and then he relaxed. Jonathan was smiling and he nodded at you.

“Really? Do none of you have anything against women warriors?” you asked.

“No, not at all!” Jonathan assured you.

“There is one- Lady Sif! We must alert her- won’t she be thrilled! She fights alongside all of us!” Loki replied.

“Yes! Maybe…she could teach me too! We could use Thor’s help!” you suggested. You took a bite of a thick slice of bread.

But Loki shook his dark curls. His smile was melted. His jaw looked tight and his pale face turned slightly red. His voice came out as a slight snarl.

“No. Only as a last resort, I supposed. But you underestimate how much of a brute and dunce my brother is…”

You nearly choked out what you were eating.

“Thor a Brute?! Dunce?! Loki, you’re being very harsh on him!” you chided.

“Just wait and see-you will understand what he is really like!” Loki declared.

“Thor has been nothing but kind to me. What has he done to deserve these words?” you asked.

“You only just met him- I knew him all his life,” Loki argued.

“My fiancee is twice the brute Thor could ever be!” you impulsive declared.

There was such silence in the room one could hear a bug crawl. Robert tightened his lips. Jonathan ate his food quietly. Hal began rubbing a hand over his mouth as if hesitant to comment something. Then Loki relaxed.

“Well…we’re not here to discuss my brother…we’re here to discuss Grendel and replenish ourselves, let us move on, please.”

But Thor had been so kind, so friendly- A blonde Great Dane in human form. What would Loki have against him? But…wasn’t something about an heir mentioned earlier? Was that the great grudge Loki held against him? Yes, they were brothers. But sibling rivalry was always a thing. Thor never seemed to bully or belittle Loki. But that was only the few times you saw them interact.

Jonathan wiped his mouth with a napkin and then looked around.

“I hope all of you have enough to eat-we should resume training today right after breakfast…and Y/N, you will be with me. I’ll show you the basics of sparring,” he declared.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“So then! Let us begin!” Hal announced.

The training grounds were a courtyard. The sun shone warmly that day and there were leafy green trees fluttering in the wind. They provided ample shade. Loki and Hal were still in their normal clothes, though Jonathan’s look was far more casual. A simple shirt and pants that allowed movement (even if they did look a little odd to you). Thomas simply rolled up his sleeves. Then there was Robert’s outfit- a white shirt and very short pants. It was everything in you to hold yourself from staring at the exposure of his legs.

You were changed out of your normal dress into the athletic wear of your day. A shorter dark skirt that merely went a couple of inches above your ankles and a white shirt. You wore comfortable boots that would allow quick movement.

It began with warming up. You had to stretch and do jumping jacks. Robert grunted but did so easily. He had been doing this for a while. You were getting used to it. Robert could easily do several push-ups ups quickly. You could not. Your arms screamed as you tried to push yourself up and down from the ground.

Prince Hal went up to Robert, handing him the end of a practice sword. Loki stood by to observe them. Jonathan then went up to you.

“Would you like to know the basics of punching, Y/N?” he asked.

“Oh- yes, please! Please, Mr. Pine! I’ve…I’ve been weak all my life- but I’ll try!” you cried.

Jonathan shook his head.

“I don’t think you’re weak, Y/N,” he said.

“I’ve never…punched before….I bet it must be…”

“It’s not a matter of physical strength, it’s how you do it.,” Jonathan advised.

After he practiced a parry, Robert turned his head towards you two.

“Oh, Jonathan- we have to spar again! I will defeat you this time. Easily,” he bragged.

“Good luck,” Jonathan bit back.

In his distraction, the practice sword tapped his shoulder. Robert’s eyes turned big and he twirled around to Hal and Loki laughing at them. Jonathan rolled up his sleeves. He then went to you.

“Y/N, open your stance-like so,” he stood so his legs were a couple of inches apart. “Your dominant foot leads and the other goes to the back.

You did so. Just one little step. If you made them all little steps, it wouldn’t feel as bad.

“Now bend your knees a little-very good. Now make two fists. You put them to your face. If it’s quick-it’s a jab.”

Jonathan opened up his hand.

“Hit me very quick with your dominant hand-try it.”

Lightly as a tap, you tried a jab onto his hand. Jonathan smiled and nodded his head.

“Very nice! That’s one way to punch. Let me show you a way to defend yourself. Crough a little beneath your fists- it makes you a smaller target for them.”

You did as much as your corset would allow you. You couldn’t slouch, but you could bend your knees and lower your head with good posture. You peeked out at him from between.

“Now, throw twenty jabs with your leading hand, Y/N,” Jonathan instructed.

You punched his hand.

“Now harder,” he pressed.

You jabbed with more force. You felt the smack of skin against skin. You exhaled quickly and as quickly as you did.

“Now bounce between your feet…there…there you go-not punch my hand again- hard as you possibly can. ”

You thought of Will again. In your mind like a flash. The field. If their kiss was a picture printed on Pine’s hand. You punched harder. With such force, Jonathan took a few steps back.

“Excellent, Y/N he praised.

“I did good!?”

“Yes- see? You’re a natural,” Jonathan praised.

“A natural fighter?” you asked.

“I think you are-you just had to learn how. But it’s only your first day-it will take time, but if you want to, you’ll learn.”

You spent the two hours learning about about crossing. About hooks. He taught you combinations and you moved the punches with focus. It was a matter of repetition- doing it over and over again. But with the sun beating down and the demand of the exercise you sweated so much. You wanted to guzzle water. You wondered if you were going to pass out (again). The pain of your muscles being worked hard as you moved, begging you to stop.

But you pushed through and survived. More than survived- your body buzzed with life, with newfound soreness and strength. Though your hands were stinky and sweaty, tight from being in fists, you had done it. You had learned the basics of throwing a punch. You never felt so…powerful before. You couldn’t recall the last time you felt so.

Going back to your room. You saw that on the desk was the engagement ring. Still glittering. You merely sat in your chair to stare at it. Looking down at your sweaty hands, you noticed a mark on your finger from how often you wore it. It felt a little bit like your finger was naked. But here you were doing well without it. Could you have learned to punch with it on? No.

But there it was. Staring at you. Mocking you. You pushed it aside to see your beloved journal.

You had used it to write diary entries, but it was filled with so much more. You pressed flowers and photos and scraps of paper with recipes and doodles and memories-often happy ones. There was one photo on the first page that kept a special place in your heart. You and a few of the local women your age sitting on the beach for a picnic among friends. Everyone’s hair was swept by the wind and several of you kept a hand to keep your hats on. But everyone was smiling-big, genuine, happy smiles. Smiles such as the one caught when one was going to have a big, full-belly laugh. In the center was Stella, becoming as ever with her blonde braid draped to the side of her right shoulder and her bright eyes beaming full of life. It was the smile she made right before she was going to laugh. You had looked at the camera at the side and everyone had linked arms or shown off their plates of cake slices. The sand looked as light as snow and the sun was gentle that day. You put a hand over it to trace the edges and the inside, your fingers lightly touching down it as if to feel the happy memory on your skin.

You deliberately did not look at anything regarding Will. There was a page you had pressed the red rose he gave to you and a lock of his hair you both exchanged with each other when you got engaged. You gaped at it, your stomach dropping as you took it in along with his small photograph. Your eyes shot down to the white edges of the pages as if you could not have it in you to even look at him. You then forced the page to close to the next one.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You all were invited to dine with the royal couple the next day. You were thrilled. You never imagined being in the same room as Queen Victoria herself. Godhood was a different matter altogether.

Dressed in a dinner dress from your time in a rich blue with a bow on the breastline, you placed your napkin on your lap as you sat down. All of you all sat at that golden table. Pine was in his nice blue suit, Robert his grey one, and Hal in some dark satin with gold buttons. Everyone rose up to their seat as the royal family walked in. Odin was a man with long, white hair and a white beard. Frigga was always graceful, smiling, and comforting as always. Thor followed afterward, lumbering into his seat. Everyone took note and returned to their own. Servants filled goblets of wine and served large legs of chicken and more side dishes than you could count.

“How are you, lady Y/N? I heard you were here but I never saw you around. There was a rumor you were unwell, my dear-is it true?” Frigga asked, her voice soft with genuine concern.

“I have had…a recent difficulty…” you started.

Robert took a deep drink of his wine. Loki leaned forward, putting an elbow on the table and a hand over his lip. He watched you intently-willing himself not to speak.

“Oh dear- are you ready to speak of it or would you rather not?” Frigga asked, she leaned forward. The warm, full plate of her food was forgotten. Odin meanwhile immediately dug into his meat.

You nodded, bunching up the napkin on your lap like a handkerchief.

“I can speak about it... My betrothed was…he…uh, he betrayed me for another. I found their letters. Then saw them embrace.” you explained.

A hand flew to Frigga’s heart and her mouth formed a small O. Right as the words were about to get out of her, the AllFather cut in.

“Oh, slighted by a beloved?” Odin asked.

You swallowed back the impulse to yell at him.

Slight?! Slight?! Slight like it was nothing. Slight like you were overreacting. Slighting was when you looked at someone and they turned the other way. Slight was when someone said, “no, I do not feel the same about you.” Adultery was not slight. It was not little. If it was little, you would be over it by now. You knew that. Odin should know that!

But yet -this was this world’s king! You couldn’t chide him or rebel. Even if you were a guest, it would create bad tensions. And between a king and some mortal peasant woman, you knew who held the upper hand.

You turned your head down. But a clearing of a throat nearby you made you look up.

“If that is how you put it, Father-but Y/N darling deeply loved him. She still does. It was a betrayal, nevertheless,” Loki informed.

He shot you a look and a nod. An acknowledgment. An understanding.

“Oh, you poor dear! That must be very hard! No wonder the rumors flew!” Frigga sighed.

She reached over and offered her hand. You took it and she rubbed one over in comfort. You gave her a smile.

Thor nodded. He picked up a leg of chicken and knawed at it. Robert took another sip of his wine.

“Yes, he was full of faith. He just couldn’t be faithful.” Robert commented.

“Indeed, lady- that is a miserable situation- Have you considered meeting him on a battlefield and ramming a sword through his gut?” he asked with his deep voice.

You gave him a bigger smile that was met with a half chuckle. You saw Hal beam at the idea. But then you tensed up again as you answered.

“I’ve been tempted to!”

“Then by all means, Lady Y/N, do it!” Thor encouraged.

“It’s easier said than done,” Robert commented.

Thomas was cutting his meat with his knife and fork into bits. Suddenly he set down the fork with food on it. Jonathan watched intently, not saying a word.

“If I break the engagement…I will be considered…. Damaged. Embarrassed. Even unmarriageable…”

“Unmarriageable? Why?!” Thor cried.

Thomas leaned in and politely put in.

“It is true but… usually, Miss Y/L/N, it is more severe for the gentleman to break it than the lady. But yes-I can confirm. From our time, it can risk a lady's reputation.”

“It would mean…ruin…” you added.

Loki’s eyes gave an angry glint and his frown was hard at Thomas.

“Are you implying that Y/N is defective? Do you agree with them, Sir Sharpe? She has done nothing to be ashamed of!” he hissed.

Thomas shook his head, his eyes wide and losing his sudden grace.

“Oh! No! I’m so sorry! I’ve heard it…but…Miss Y/L/N…”

Thomas leaned closer to you.

“The advice given is to write a letter. A calm one. Send it to him. Return the gifts, no matter how expensive-especially if there is a ring. Was there?”

A lump was in your throat as you nodded.

“I…I’m so scared to…to…to do it,” you confessed.

A whole future you were so looking forward to. A man you loved. The promise of a peaceful life in a nice small town married to a handsome, faithful vicar. You still wanted it. But that was never to be. On top of the humiliation of a broken engagement, you knew you had to let go of wanting things to be an ideal instead of what it was. But holding onto it never made you feel any better. And the idea of going back home and walking down the aisle of that brown church and being brought to his brown house knowing what he did seemed impossible.

“My dear, you have good reason to….if you want to. It is your decision,” Frigga encouraged.

She looked at Odin and he nodded as if on cue before drinking his goblet.

“My worth, my future…will be gone…” you mumbled.

“For letting go of an engagement?! Of course, it won’t!” Robert added on. You turned to him.

He began to shrug. “Where I come from, there are hundreds of breakups like this-hundreds of divorces. They’re normal in the future.”

Loki made a gesture to the blonde man politely cutting his meat into strips.

“Better than being stuck with something miserable. Jonathan here is divorced! But he’s not some ruined good with no future- if his own life moved on, and so could yours!”

Jonathan nodded.

“It is true…but it doesn’t make it any less painful, Y/N,” he said.

Thor smiled and raised up a goblet to you.

“Warriors have scars on the battlefield. And this is just another battle for you, Y/N. But you will win it, no doubt..”

You gave all of them a smile. Then continue your meal. Odin turned to his elder son.

“Speaking of battles…I heard there was a duel between you and a warrior of Jotenheim- how did you do son?”

Thor curled his fingers into a fist with a proud grin.

“Crushed him, easily!” he boasted.

Odin applauded with a laugh. He reached a hand and touched his arm.

“There you go, there’s my boy!” But as you turned, Loki’s face drained of its color. He ate the rest of his meal in a hurry and then excused himself. Once it was finished, you found him on the balcony.

“Loki…you don’t like Thor…though he’s your brother and he’s kind to you…how come?” you asked. No matter beating around the bush.

You followed him over. You both were looking out the balcony onto the evening sky. The Asgard city sparkled in its lights before you. Loki turned around to you. His voice was quiet.

“Do you remember what Jonathan said at the meeting? About Thor?”

“Odin’s going to name Thor as his heir?” you recalled.

“Yes…Odin’s going to name Thor as his heir. Not me. Him. And you saw him at dinner-lauding over every little thing he does.”

He looked out. He began to mourn softly-the words fresh out of him. Losing the cool confidence he kept as a god.

“All of my life. I have been second to Thor. Thor the Great. The Mighty Thor. He’s always been Father’s clear favorite. He’s gotten everything to him on a silver platter. Me…not so much.”

You placed yourself closer to him. You saw his hands grip the railing. A small tear ran down his face despite his angry frown.

“Oh…dear, Loki-that is miserable…your father shouldn’t treat you like this…no father should,” you consoled.

“You only need to understand what it is to have Father’s favorite in front of your face paraded all of your life.”

You arched an eyebrow.

“Do you think I don’t understand what it is for someone I love to prefer another person over me?” you asked.

There was silence. Then Loki looked down. He then noticed your hands.

“They haven’t come off since the bargain…I wonder…how much do you know about the spell?” you questioned.

“I only know how to perform it and what it does. But as to the after effects…I’ll have to ask my mother. She is the one who taught me magic, after all.” he explained.

Both of you looked at the small marks across your skin. Then turning up, you met Loki. How relaxed he seemed here. No formal dinner. No swaggering display of power. Just…just himself.

“So…you keep Thor out of this quest…so you can get all the glory?” you asked.

He placed both of his hands on his hips and tilted his head a bit.

“Is there anything wrong with that?”

“No..it’s just…it’s a complicated scheme. Perhaps you should just sit down and tell your father how you feel?”

He turned to the balcony and looked at the city again. Down one could see people going in and out of places-joyful and smiling and laughing. As if a celebration was going on down there.

“I have other matters. Bigger ones. We have a threat to our planet. Our world. To Asgard And yours and the others. If we’re going to keep anyone we love safe, we have to go through. We began and we will see this to the end,” Loki answered.

You looked down, then back up.

“Alright..then count me in…” you said.

Loki turned to you.

“What…what do you mean?” he asked, tilting his head.

“Loki…what if I stayed here? Trained every day? Stayed here and helped you?”

“You…want to stay here? You have someone waiting back home to marry you…” Loki mumbled, blinking rapidly.

“If I go now…I will be pressured to marry him at once and I…I…I don’t want to…not after what he did…Loki…don’t send me back there and leave me there…I…I don’t want to marry Will. I want to stay here. Don’t send me back to Aldwinter, please.” Your voice became pleading.

He looked at you. His blue eyes became shiny, and then his posture relaxed.

“Then I won’t force you…you are free to come and go from here, but stay as long as you like. We’ll make it a second home…” he answered.

You stepped forward and hugged him. In honest gratitude. He nestled into you, nuzzling tight.

“Thank you…I wish Odin could see this side of you- the generous side…” you muttered.

“And your priest could see your bravery,” Loki replied.

You squeezed him tighter. As if you could squeeze out the air from him. But he took it. He held you. And he didn’t release until you were the one to let go.

“I’ll ask Jonathan to escort you back to your room.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You sat down at the desk the next morning. You put out a piece of paper and began writing. This first letter would be an easy one.

“Dearest Mama and Papa, I was never abducted. I am not Loki’s whore. I am safe and cared for in Asgard. I plan on staying there a while but I will stop down and visit you. I do not know when I will be returning, but they treat me like part of their family. There is something there that requires my assistance. I will write to you soon with more details- but I am very much alive and well and unharmed with all of my needs met. You have nothing to worry about with me. I will write to you as often as I can. And visit when time allows. All of my love, Your daughter, Y/N.”

You stared at the piece of paper. Your pen hung in the air. One piece of paper- and it would determine your fate. Your future. A whole future you had set up that you were now going to throw away… No…it was nothing you did to ruin it.

“Will,

I have written to my parents to say this, but I will tell you. I am in Asgard. I am safe there. All of my needs are being cared for. I am no one’s whore as some might say. I plan to stay there for some time…”

You paused. This was hard. It was very hard. But you knew it had to be done, tears brimming in your eyes. You recalled the evening you danced together at a party, not too long before he proposed. A happy memory made sad and bitter.

The letters. The tan coat. The red dress. Cora. The kiss.

It curled up in your stomach and made the inside of your bowels feel like it was full of fluids. And not in a pleasant way. The people in Aldwinter will chide you for this. But the people in Asgard… said you would still have worth.

No matter what I have worth. And I will survive this and move on, you thought. After all, it was not you who was ruined. It was not you who did any wrong, you had to remind yourself. And if this means I am ruined because I know what I want in my husband, so be it. With a deep breath to calm yourself, you continued writing.

“Our agreement was made when we were in love but we truly did not know each other. We did not understand marriage- neither of us. When I did not understand what it meant to be your wife. And you did not understand what it meant to be my husband. Now we do. You have hurt me. Deeply. And one day you will answer to your God for what you have done as much as you answered to me. May you be prepared. I remember Proverbs- “the man who commits adultery is an utter fool, for he destroys himself. He will be wounded and disgraced. His shame will never be erased.” William, I cannot marry an adulterous man. There are women out there perhaps more forgiving than I am. I hope you meet one. Be loyal to her forever. May she never suffer the cruelty you have done to me. May you be willing to die for her, be a mere slave at her feet. May she never be shattered at the expense of your pleasure. For this, I release you from our contract. You are free now. Do not ask me to marry you again, I will say no. Do not look for me in your blind congregation. Do not go out and seek me. Do not speak to me. Do not do anything for me. And do not beg me to be kind to her. She knew you were not free. And it did not stop her. She is as guilty, as selfish, as unkind as you. No wonder you both were drawn to each other. I release you, with a heart full of both love and grief for who we were and who we might have become. You may visit my house for I would like to have the gifts you gave me returned to you. You are no longer mine as I was never truly yours. Goodbye, Father Ransome.

Sincerely, Miss Y/L/N.”

You folded it and tucked it into an envelope. You turned to your journal. You took out the page with his flower, strand of hair and picture. You put a finger through it to feel it. Tears ran down your cheeks, but your determination steeled you forward. You placed them in the envelope. Then, finally, you placed in the engagement ring and sealed the envelope shut.

You then walked over and found Loki in the dining hall with Thomas. Thomas was looking at a small music box, fiddling with the gears.

“I need this letter delivered to my home- to Essex, to Aldwinter. First this one to my home, and then…then this one to the church…” you said.

Thomas stood up.

“I think I would be the most suited- I think your time is close to mine. I dress a decade early already.” he sighed.

He put on his top hat and cloak and Loki’s magic whisked him away and then back. Thomas merely took off his top hat and brushed off the dirt of the town.

“There! Delivered efficiently! Now, Y/N, Loki-come here- this little box can play a different tune than it had at first! Come have a look…”

That night, you slept. Free from your betrothal. Free from your home. Free from living with the judgment of others. Yet you had an odd dream. You saw the sea- it looked like the sea back home.

Then images began flashing. A boat. A boy with brown hair. Flowers in the water. Spools of thread in the water. Little bottles in the water. Shells in the water. Then a glimpse-you saw threads of blonde hair floating in the water…someone was in it…perhaps swimming…but you could not make out a face, a person, yet you felt a presence…you saw a white hand reach outstretched towards the surface, where the sun glimmered through the sea. Then it went down, down, down…

When you woke up, somehow, the dream stuck with you.

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nyxshadowhawk · 3 months

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Hello, hope you’re having a good day! This isn’t an ask, I just wanted to say a gargantuan thank you for your ‘I read the Silmarillion so you don’t have to’ series! I’ve read LoTR and The Hobbit, and I’ve learned a lot from the internet and the fan base, but have struggled to understand some of Tolkien’s other literature due to his writing style as I’m not a big reader. Your summaries of the Silmarillion have been unimaginably helpful to me in getting a foothold into more of his writing so, once again, thank you!

I'm so glad you're enjoying it! That makes it very worth doing. Stay tuned, because I definitely plan to go through the whole thing eventually! I can't say how long that'll take, because I'm very busy with gradschool right now. (I shall channel the spirit of Professor Tolkien to help me translate Beowulf faster!) I'll keep working on it as soon as I get a chance, though.

#the silmarillion #j.r.r. tolkien #jrr tolkien #tolkien legendarium #lotr #the lord of the rings #the silm #the silm fandom

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championsandheroes · 1 year

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Yes, this is just me, giving up on figuring out what I meant. I know it was meant to be relationship drama, no I don't know how I got there, no I don't know what Baywatching has to do with anything or if it's my phone autocorrecting something else. What about Solas' ears? Why have I made a note just naming Beowulf and Grendel in the file designated for comic ideas? Why?? For the uninitiated, Baywatching is Allison Pregler's funny summaries of Baywatch episodes on youtube. I especially recommend them and her Charmed series, but also just her in general. I do not recommend trying to make sense of what I write when I'm half-asleep.

Further theories have been offered over at Patreon, society6 and redbubble but I suspect we will never truly know the answer to any of these.

#champions and heroes #they are separate comic ideas #that I am certain of #unfortunately it is also all I am certain of #send help

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warrioreowynofrohan · 4 months

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Then, having strayed and gazed their fill, They closed around the fire; And all, in turn, essayed to paint The rival merits of their saint, A theme that ne’er can tire A holy maid; for, be it known, That their saint’s honour is their own.

Then Whitby’s nuns exulting told, How to their house three barons bold Must menial service do; ... And how, of thousand snakes, each one Was changed into a coil of stone When holy Hilda prayed; Themselves, within their holy bound, Their stony folds had often found.

Nor did Saint Cuthbert’s daughters fail To vie with these in holy tale; His body’s resting-place of old, How oft their patron changed, they told; How, when the rude Dane burned their pile, The monks fled forth from Holy Isle; O’er northern mountain, marsh, and moor, From sea to sea, from shore to shore, Seven years Saint Cuthbert’s corpse they bore.

This is the part of Marmion where I really started to love the poem, and it's still one of my absolute favourite parts. It hearkens back to the ancient sagas, where heroes contested with each other in boasting about their deeds of prowess. In Beowulf, a side character, Unferth, challenges Beowulf by running down one of his past deeds, and Beowulf bests him by describing, in detail, his heroic achievements; it can be summarized as Unferth saying "You're not all that" and Beowulf returning, "Yes, I am all that." Another one in a different style is when, in the Kalevala, the young man Lemmenkainen unwisely challenges the ancient Vainamoinen in, essentially, an intellectual duel of telling the things they know - Lemmenkainen's knowledge and experience is trivial next to Vainamoinen's, and he is utterly worsted (summary: "You know nothing, kid".) You could consider this type of verbal duel the ancestor of the modern rap battle.

And this section of Marmion feels like that ancient poetic device being brought forward into a an entirely different setting, era, and applied to an extremely unlikely group of people: two sets of nuns from different convents. But the basic pattern of it, each setting forth in turn the great achievements of their saints, is essentially similar. The poem is set in the 1500s, the early modern era, and much of its setting and style (knights, jousts, and chivalry) hearkens back to the medieval times, but this moment connects its to a far older tradition (ironically, one connected to the same Vikings whose sack of Lindisfarne is mentioned).

The realization that, as noted by @animate-mush, the "serpents changed to stone" by St. Hilda are in fact fossil ammonites, just puts the finishing touch on this fantastic section.

#marmion

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doomatnight · 7 months

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Harriet wasn't fast enough to prevent herself from getting knotted by a Beowolf

Content: Grimm

Huntress 101: If you can’t fight, flee. If you can’t flee, fuck.

Harriet tried fight. It didn’t work out.

Harriet tried flee. It didn’t work out.

In summary? Harriet bent over and wiggled her ass letting the Beowulf mount her. The Grimm rammed into her, fucking her hard and fast as Harriet submitted herself to the beast, letting it knot her and fill her with cum.

Maybe she needs to choose fuck as the first option next time.

#lwde #rwby smut #rwby nsft #rwby lemon #nsft /#doomlewd.txt #rwby grimm

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innumerable-stars · 8 months

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Sellic Spell Promo Post

(Written by @naryaflame)

Summary: Sellic Spell ('strange tale', 'wondrous tale') is a short prose tale which attempts to reconstruct the folk story behind Beowulf, and also draws inspiration from the Norse Hrólfs saga kraka. It mostly follows the plot of Beowulf, up to the death of Grendel's mother.

Why should I check out this canon? If you're a fan of folk tales and fairy stories, and/or you're interested in Beowulf and Tolkien's responses to that text, this one is for you! It has magic and horror, heroism and treachery, treasure and monsters, and can be read and enjoyed on its own merits, whether you're familiar with the source material or not. For the linguistically minded, the 2016 edition of Tolkien's Beowulf also includes the Old English version of the tale - and if your comfort zone is the Middle-earth legendarium, there are plenty of little links you'll pick up on as you read.

Where can I get this? The manuscript is held at the Bodleian library, but for those of us who can't access the Oxford special collections, it was published in 2016 alongside Tolkien's translation of Beowulf. It's also available as a free PDF courtesy of the Internet Archive.

What fanworks already exist? At the moment there are two fanworks on AO3 - a drabble from the point of view of the Queen of the Golden Hall, and a crossover with The Hobbit which blends the tale with the history of the Beornings.

#sellic spell #small fandoms promo #tolkien #beowulf

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veliseraptor · 1 year

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December Reading Recap

I thought about trying to do some kind of 2022 reading summation/best of/worst of/whatever and I might still do that but right now I'm just going "too many booksahhh" so I'm just going to keep on going with month two of my "here's what I read this month" short reviews.

I read a lot this month, but unfortunately it involved several books that missed for me (but a few that I really enjoyed).

The Husky and His White Cat Shizun: vol. 1 by Meatbun Doesn't Eat Meat (Seven Seas Translation). I mean, as usual, even without knowing the actual quality of the translation as a translation I am still pining for a professional translator. And yet I'm still reading, because this is the way I have to read the thing as translated by an actual human, and I am enjoying it. This time around I am falling much more in love with Chu Wanning than I did the first time around when I was laser focused on Mo Ran as more nakedly ~my type~ but boy!! *pats Chu Wanning* this man can fit soooo many issues in him.

Babel, Or the Necessity of Violence: An Arcane History of the Oxford Translators' Revolution by R.F. Kuang. I feel like my relationship status with R.F. Kuang's writing should just be listed as "it's complicated" because I don't even know how I feel about this book, really. It's conceptually fascinating, it's doing so many cool things, the way she chose to end it is very bold and I respect the hell out of it, and something still just didn't quite...click for me in the way that I wanted it to.

I think it was that it felt a little heavy-handed with its metaphors. Which is fine, to be sure, and making your imperialism metaphors specifically about language and translation isn't something I've seen somebody do a lot with in fiction, but...yeah. I'm calling this one less a fault of the book and more a fault of the me, though; it definitely feels like a your mileage may vary situation.

Several People Are Typing by Calvin Kasulke. I picked this up on a whim and it wasn't worth it. The book was very taken with its own cleverness; I was not.

The Maidens by Alex Michaelides. This was another one where the summary/description was more interesting than the actual book turned out being, which was, while readable and I was intrigued enough by the mystery to power through it pretty fast, underwhelming overall.

Hench by Natalie Zina Walschots. Some people (me) keep picking up retellings despite at this point knowing better; other people (me) keep picking up superhero-comics-inspired books despite at this point knowing better, only this time I was actually surprised by how much I liked it. It was legitimately a good story! And you know I'm always going to be a sucker for a story that takes the villain's side.

Our Wives Under the Sea by Julia Armfield. I have the creeping feeling that this book was too sophisticated for me and I would have liked it more if I was more sophisticated, which is an unpleasant feeling to have.

I wanted more deep sea horror from it than I got - not in the sense of ~creatures and tentacles~ or anything, but this was far more a book about grief and loss than it was horror, and it was billed to me as the latter, so I came in from the wrong direction and was a little disappointed. It was a good book, though, and beautifully written.

Everything I Need I Get From You by Kaitlyn Tiffany. Had I known that the title of this book was from a One Direction song (I didn't) I might have anticipated more how much it was about bandom and therefore less relevant to my interests. It was also lighter on the analysis than I expected/wanted, so ultimately this one was a disappointment too.

Beowulf trans. by Maria Dahvana Headley. This is the first translation of Beowulf I have ever actually read (!) and after reading it I kind of wished that I'd read at least one other translation to compare it to. But a lot of the things she was doing with alliteration and assonance and rhythm in the language were just spectacular. And it gave me the chance to read this one (by this translator) coupled with:

The Mere Wife by Maria Dahvana Headley. Adding this to my "books to read in pairs" list alongside the Song of Achilles / Silence of the Girls dyad. It's been sitting on my shelf for a while now, and I finally got around to it as spurred by reading the original Beowulf text, and...whoa. I'm going to be thinking about this one for a while and I want other people I know to read it so I can bounce off their thoughts about it. If you haven't heard of it: this was billed as a retelling (I know) of the Beowulf story set in a gated community but I feel like the fact that it's based on Beowulf is almost beside the point in some ways, and in other ways it's very much in conversation with that text and lives alongside it and maybe a little in argument with it.

Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation: vol. 4 by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu (Seven Seas Translation). I feel a little bad about how my reaction to this volume was a little bit "this was mostly a lot of Wangxian stuff so I was less excited about it" but there you go.

Siren Queen by Nghi Vo. I have to say, I read The Chosen and the Beautiful when it came out and was a little underwhelmed, but the synopsis for this one sounded interesting, and people kept raving about it, so I decided to give it a go, and I liked this one both (a) much better than The Chosen and the Beautiful and (b) just as a book without comparison needed. It also made me want to dig more into early film history. The way that this book is in love with (in a way) early film is also a delight to read, and while I can't call it subtle, it's eerie and beautiful in a way that really worked for me.

The Last Days of Jack Sparks by Jason Arnopp. I read a lot of horror despite the fact that I end up underwhelmed by the vast majority of it. I was slightly less underwhelmed by this one than I expected to be, but that is, as you might note, not exactly an endorsement. Part of the problem was that I found the main narrator just too fucking hateable in a very specific way to feel anything about his suffering but vague, detached interest in where it was going to go.

Heaven Official's Blessing: vol. 5 by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu (Seven Seas Translation). I just love this book so much and everything about the reading experience is difficult to judge in an objective way because my brain just kind of goes "look at them go! look at these little dudes go! they're so funny :)" in a very empty-headed sort of way.

This volume does sort of fall between my favorite bits, though (after end of Black Water Arc, before the Hua Cheng's Sculpture Gallery), so while it started digging into some of the Crown Prince of Wuyong lore it didn't quite hit the parts that are juiciest for me.

The Coming Plague by Laurie Garrett. This book made me so mad about public health policy. Like, so mad. I'm mad about it periodically anyway but this just made it worse. It's really good, very comprehensive overview of some of the emerging diseases since 1950, including Lassa, Ebola, antibiotic resistance, HIV/AIDS, and others. It's long, and definitely a rough read if you've got any kind of disease phobia (she isn't...gruesome about the clinical descriptions but she also isn't mincing words), but worth a read if you feel like you can do it and are interested in epidemiology.

There's definitely outdated terminology and some bits that made me squint about the book's politics, but overall the author's clear message of the need for holistic health policies for everybody mitigated a lot of those concerns (particularly the way the author repeatedly underlined the links between poverty and deprivation and vulnerability to illness, and the vitality of giving people a way out of that situation as part of public health policy.

The Bone Orchard by Sara Mueller. The last book I read in 2022! I'm so fascinated by everything this book was doing. There was some very interesting world-building under the skin of what was really mostly a mystery with a side of politics. And I say that favorably. Ultimately I'm not sure that it'd make my favorite books of the year list, but I'd give it a casual recommendation; that is, if someone was eyeing it to read I'd say it was worth picking up.

I'm currently reading Kingdom Coming: The Rise of Christian Nationalism by Michelle Goldberg, which was published in 2007 (during the Bush years) and I can already tell reading it now is going to be an experience.

#sometimes i read things #reading recaps #man i read a lot in december #i guess that's what i was doing instead of writing

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lucrezia-thoughts · 2 years

Text

From Here to Eternity

Chapter Five: Beginning of the End...

Pairing: Eddie Munson x f!reader

Warning(s): anxious!Dustin, Steve & Robin being awesome (mostly Robin), cruel!Jason Carver, sweet & caring Eddie, Chrissy is firmly under Vecna's manipulations (but don't count her out!), canonical bullying towards Eddie, this will sort of follow season 4 eventually but there will be changes...

Series Summary: You’ve just moved to Hawkins from Philadelphia in the middle of your last semester of senior year. On your first day, you end up enthralled by the freak of Hawkins High School…

Chapter Summary: Dustin put out a code red on you when you didn't come home, so now it's time to get his dad/babysitter involved... Jason has noticed something is up with Chrissy and he's convinced it's your fault... and you shock the whole school when you walk through the doors holding Eddie Munson's hand...

☆Previous Chapter☆ | ☆Next Chapter☆

"Sinclair has a girlfriend?" Eddie turned away from you to study his neighbor as she knelt down to feed a dog in the pen next to the trailer she'd come from and you used the opportunity to wrap your arms around his neck and press another quick kiss to his cheek before climbing into your car.

"Yes, shit. I really have to go! I'll see you tomorrow!" You called out to Eddie from your window as you backed out onto the road and peeled out of the Forest Hills Trailer Park, not daring to glance backwards even once lest you blow your one shot at not being seen.

Okay... realistically, there was a very slim chance Max hadn't seen you- but even if she had, you could just say you forgot something at Eddie's place while you were working on the project. Crap. You were so screwed.

Pulling into the Henderson's driveway, you were immediately met with Dustin gripping his walkie tight as he ran up to your car. "Kira! Where have you BEEN?"

"Fizzgig, it's too early for this kind of energy," you tried to deflect. Turning the car off, you grabbed your bag and got out only to be met with Dustin leaning close and sniffing you. "Fizz!"

"You smell like marijuana-" Dustin said accusingly- "you were with Eddie, weren't you?"

Opting for the path closest to the truth, you agreed, "you already knew that, Fizzgig. Eddie and I had to work on our English project, remember?" You pulled out your copy of Beowulf to wave it in front of his face.

"Were you with him all night?" Dustin hissed and you sighed; he just couldn't leave well enough alone.

"No, I got tired driving home from Eddie's so I crashed at Chrissy's, but would it really have been so bad if I'd been with Eddie all night?" You asked him as the two of you walked towards the house. "What are you afraid is going to happen if I hang out with him? Besides, you like him! You told me how cool you think he is! Why am I not allowed to like him too?"

"So you admit that you like him!" Dustin exclaimed triumphantly causing you to roll your eyes.

"I never said I didn't!" You threw your hands up in frustration as you walked into the house and into your room; Dustin hot on your heels. "I'm allowed to have my own relationships with people, Fizzgig."

"You're in a relationship?" Dustin gasped and you let your forehead thump against the wall next to your closet before turning around to nip this in the bud; hopefully for the last time.

"Dustin-" his face paled as you used his full name as opposed to his nickname- "I love you with everything in me and I never want to do anything that will upset you, but you have GOT to stop with this freaking out over Eddie and I and what we are or aren't to each other!" You pleaded with him, walking over to place your hands on his shoulders. "Please, Dustin, I'm begging you."

"But..." Dustin began, but you cut him off.

"I know Mike tried to tell you that it would change Eddie if something happened between us, but think about it Fizzgig; really think about it. Did anything truly change when Steve and Nancy started dating?" You waited a moment for him to respond, but he just kept looking at the floor. "No- nothing actually changed except for Steve and Nancy being happy- and when they broke up, you and Steve became friends! And when Nancy started dating Jonathan, nothing changed then either." As you spoke, you lead him over to your bed and guided him to sit down next to you.

"I... I guess you're right," Dustin sighed and you wrapped your arm around his shoulders, pulling him into your side.

"Eddie is always going to be Eddie, you never have to worry about that," you assured him. "And I'm always going to be your big sister and biggest supporter, despite what your dad Steve might think-" you gently ruffled his hair as you spoke- "now, how I about I get freshened up, then we can go rent a scary movie from Family Video and come home to watch it and pig out on junk food? Do a scary Sunday-sound good?"

Dustin gave you a brilliant smile and wrapped his arms around your waist, "yeah!"

"You're gonna call off the code red search party, right?" You asked knowingly, trying to stifle your giggle when Dustin froze guiltily at your side.

After a quick shower and a change of clothes, you and Dustin were in your car and pulling into the parking lot of Family Video. "You wanna pick out the movie and I'll pick out the snacks?" you asked as Dustin practically vibrated with excitement in the passenger seat.

"Okay!" Dustin called back at you as he bounced out of the car and into Family Video, his excited greeting to Steve and Robin ringing out behind him. Smiling, you made your way into the video store and leaned against the front counter to talk to Steve.

"You brought him in just as an excuse to see me, right?" Steve fake-flirted, mirroring your position on the other side of the counter.

"You always see right through me-" you teased back, putting the back of your hand against your forehead while you dramatically pretended to swoon- "I couldn't bear to be away from you for even one moment longer." With a grin, Steve reached out and leaned towards you as you leaned towards him, making it as far as having to stand on the tips of your toes before you both burst into laughter.

"Scary Sunday?" Robin questioned as she walked past you and hip-checked Steve out of the way; dumping a bin of returned videos on the counter.

"Of course-" you agreed- "but I also needed to ask the hair for a favor," you added slightly nervously, pulling a few VHS tapes from the bin to help Robin get ready to rewind them.

"Me?" Steve asked at the same time that Robin turned from the computer to gasp, "him?"

"Yeah-" you sighed, looking over towards the horror section to make sure Dustin wasn't paying attention to your conversation- "I need you, Steve, to talk to Dustin about how I'm allowed to have friends," you explained evasively, stacking the opened videos on the counter to create a barrier between you and their inevitable questions.

"The kid's not letting you have friends?" Steve frowned and Robin furrowed her brows as she gave you an assessing glance.

"What are we then?" Robin questioned, taking the tapes from you so you couldn't use them to hide behind. "Strangers? Acquaintances? Chopped liver?"

"No. We're friends. It's just-" without your makeshift barricade, you subconsciously fiddled with your ring- "He's having... trouble accepting one specific friend I've made," you focused on spinning your ring to avoid seeing Robin and Steve's expressions. "A friend I made on my own. Independent of you guys and independent of Dustin too... at first, at least."

"And this friend is..." Robin trailed off, clearly waiting for you to fill them in.

"A guy," you mumbled.

"And this guy is..." Steve added, eyebrows raising up towards his hairline.

"Does it really matter who it is?" You snapped before sighing, your shoulders sagging guiltily. "I'm sorry, I just... I think I might like this guy- and I'm pretty sure he might like me too- but Mike got in Dustin's head and convinced him that everything would change if we ever... became something- not that we will- I mean I only met him a week ago, that's way too fast to-"

"Whoa, whoa-" Steve interjected as your voice became high and thin due to lack of air- "stop." He waited until you took a shaky breath before continuing. "Good. Listen, you don't have to apologize- it's totally fine- but now I really need to know who this guy is," Steve leaned closer to you on your left as Robin did the same on your right.

"Why, though?" You whined, spinning your ring faster. "How could knowing possibly have any impact on what you'd say to Dustin?"

"It'll... determine how I approach the topic, now spill," Steve urged.

"Fine-" you grumbled- "it's Eddie Munson."

"The freak?" Steve clarified and you reached out to hit him, but Robin beat you to it. "Hey!"

"Don't be a dingus, go-" she nudged Steve in the direction of Dustin- "be a dad."

Waiting until Steve disappeared behind a row of video tapes, you focused your attention on Robin. "Thank you," you sighed letting your shoulders slump in relief.

Robin nodded, picking up one of the returns to load it into the VCR to rewind. "It's his hair, right?" Her question caught you off guard and your expression must have shown it. "What? I know Eddie's not... my type, but even I can see he has nice hair. Oh, or is it his eyes? Big brown eyes just-" Robin pantomimed being stabbed in the heart- "a dagger right through the heart, you know? I really don't get why everyone is so-" she flailed her hands around in a frantic gesture- "about him anyway. He's been nice anytime I've ever had to interact with him and his performances during lunch are always entertaining."

"It's just... it's everything about him-" you mused, not noticing Steve and Dustin peeking around the edge of the horror section- "before I even knew who he was, he kept me from getting bumped to the ground by a jock. Then after he agreed to be my partner in English when I didn't know anyone else, he showed me around school so I didn't get lost. He let me sit with him during lunch even though I'm not part of Hellfire. And... he helped me calm down from a panic attack last night-" you dropped your voice slightly and beckoned her closer with a curl of your finger- "not even Dustin has ever been as good at calming me down as Eddie is."

"Seriously?" Robin's eyes were wide as her gaze swept your face for any hint of exaggeration.

"Seriously-" you confirmed, unable to suppress the smile that thinking about Eddie brought to your face- "Eddie makes me so happy... I just wish Dustin knew that." As you were lost in your thoughts of Eddie, Robin looked over your shoulder to make very pointed eye contact with Dustin.

You weren't sure exactly what it was Steve had said to Dustin, but after grabbing the snacks and renting a VHS of A Nightmare on Elm Street (for the third time) Dustin just kept apologizing for trying to keep you and Eddie apart. You'd have to remember to thank Steve the next time you saw him.

Pulling into the school's parking lot on Monday morning, you gave yourself a once over in the rear view mirror before climbing out of the car- having put a little extra care in picking out your outfit and getting ready knowing this would be the first time you'd see Eddie since you'd literally slept with him. Grabbing your backpack from the passenger seat, you stood up to shut your door only to have it stopped by the grip of a hand. Whipping your head around to see who was preventing you from closing your door, you were met with the shark like grin of Jason Carver.

"Not so fast there new girl. I think you and I need to have a little chat," Jason's voice dripped with venom, but his grin never wavered.

You felt the fear trickling down your spine like an ice cold drip, but you did your best not to let it show. "I honestly can't think of a single thing the two of us would ever need to chat about," you countered; proud that your voice didn't waver.

"Don't play coy with me-" he spit, eyes narrowing slightly as he forced you to press back against the open doorway of your car just to keep some distance between the two of you- "Chrissy has been brushing me off ever since she met you, so you're gonna tell exactly what you said to her about me."

You looked around you, trying to get someone to notice the imminent danger you were in, but no one even spared you a second glance as they hurried past your car. "Jason, just let me go... we're going to be late to first period." His responding laugh chilled your blood. "Please, just let me go..."

"Tell me what you said and I'll let you go," Jason's voice dropped down to a low growl as he leaned closer, sinister grin still firmly in place.

Turning your head away from him, you were about to shut your eyes and scream for help when you saw your knight in shining leather approaching. "Princess?"

At the sound of Eddie's voice, Jason's head jerked towards him to snarl, "Beat it, freak- this doesn't concern you."

"Jason? What are you doing?" Chrissy's voice startled both you and Jason, but the smirk you saw on Eddie's face as you ducked under Jason's arm and ran to Eddie's side let you know he'd seen her coming. Lifting his arm to wrap around your waist, Eddie let you press yourself against him while you both watched Jason shut your car door as he faced Chrissy.

"Babe, I told you to meet me outside your first class," Jason chuckled, trying to pivot the conversation away from the compromising position in which he'd just been found.

"You're in the parking lot in front of the main entrance, Jason-" Chrissy frowned as she crossed her arms cautiously over her chest- "I had to walk by here to even get into school."

"You're cutting it pretty close today, then, aren't you?" He asked as he pushed himself away from your car and ran a hand casually through his hair.

"No-" Chrissy shook her head and stood a little straighter- "don't make this about me, Jason, and don't change the subject. What were you doing to my friend?"

"We were just chatting, right new girl?" Jason adjusted his stance so Chrissy couldn't see his face as his gaze locked threateningly on you; causing you to press closer into Eddie, your hands fisting his battle jacket tightly.

Chrissy turned towards you and you felt Eddie's hand gently stroking your waist as you focused your attention on Chrissy; hoping desperately that she knew you were about to lie to her. Shaking your head as subtly as you could, you swallowed thickly, "we... we were just chatting."

"See, babe? Just chatting," Jason smirked and sauntered over to wrap his arm around Chrissy's shoulders; oblivious to how tense she became at his touch.

Chrissy looked between you and Jason and her entire being seemed to deflate. With the fire gone from her eyes, you noticed just how frail and weary she appeared. "Okay," once the word left her lips, Jason was guiding her away from you and into Hawkins High. Peering back behind her, Chrissy called out to you, "I'll see you in Bio?" Before you had a chance to answer her, Jason sped up and they both disappeared into the school.

"Sweetheart-" Eddie's soft voice had your head snapping in his direction- "are you okay? What was really going on?" His hand gently slid up your side to cup your chin, maneuvering your head this way and that to make sure you weren't hurt.

Leaning into Eddie's touch, you sighed as the warning bell rang out. "I'm okay now- thanks to you." Pressing a kiss to his wrist, you took a step towards the school and held your hand out for him to take. "I'll tell you more in Mrs. O'Donnell's class."

Eddie studied your face with narrowed eyes for a minute before threading his fingers through yours as a brilliant grin bloomed on his full lips, "lead the way, princess."

It was truly amazing just how many people stopped to unabashedly gawk as you and Eddie walked hand in hand to Mrs. O'Donnell's classroom; people who had deliberately looked away when Jason had you trapped now couldn't seem to keep their eyes off of you. You did your best to avoid eye contact with any of them, but their whispering was all you could hear...

"The new girl is holding hands with the freak?"

"He must have her under some kind of hex..."

"I wonder if he's planning to sacrifice her..."

You knew Eddie heard the whisperers too because he tried to let your hand go, but you tightened your grip on his hand. Crossing the threshold into your first period classroom, you kept your hold on Eddie as you made your way to your seats. Finally letting his hand go to shrug off your backpack, you slid your desk closer to his before sitting down and grabbing his hand again. "You are something else, princess," Eddie chuckled lowly as Mrs. O'Donnell began her lecture.

With only a few minutes of class left, Mrs. O'Donnell instructed everyone to discuss their Beowulf project with their partners and you intended to take the opportunity to fill Eddie in on what had happened with Jason; but Eddie had a different idea.

As you turned towards him, he let your hand go. You furrowed your brow at the action, but your expression quickly shifted into surprise when you watched him slide off his skull ring before grabbing your hand again. Spreading your fingers, Eddie slipped the ring on each of them; trying to find one that it would fit. A frown formed on his handsome face, though, when the ring proved too large or too wide to fit on any of your fingers.

"Eddie... what are you-" you began to ask, voice shaking slightly, but Eddie shook his head and reached up to his neck. You watched, stunned, as he unclasped his chain, slipped the ring onto it next to the guitar pick, and leaned forward to put it around your neck.

"Might as well do this right, princess," Eddie breathed into your ear as he fastened the chain around your neck before pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek.

Your head was spinning as your every sense was laser focused on Eddie as he sat back in his desk. "D-do what right?"

"Show everyone that you're mine."

#joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfic #female reader

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