#don’t even get me started about the ordeal with Nero | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jostepherjoestar · 3 years

Text

An Educational Favour VII

ENDING!

NOTsfw // FEM! reader & pronouns

warnings/notes: 18+ content, minors dni, risotto x reader alone finally, interc0urse, soft, romantic, intimate, face riding, scent kink? a little, squirting (kind of), ris is a service top don’t @ me, aftercare with ris, u can read into what risotto is trying to say/do readers 👀

part 1- 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7

PART VII: 🖤Risotto🖤

It took some time to finally assess what you’d learned over the span of time since starting your educational adventure with your colleagues. After every session you had been left with your own thoughts, albeit in a haze, but it gave you time to relax and reflect. Illuso taught you to be confident and ask for what you want and shy Pesci made you put those communication skills to good use as you received one of the most intense orgasms you’d ever experienced. Damn that man has some great skills; it still makes you shudder to think back to your thighs clamped around his face, trembling in pleasure. Ghiaccio showed you how fun it could be to be hammered into the mattress while also desperately trying to make your capo feel good. Unlike Formaggio, who let the slow tempo take over and took his time to make you feel amazing. Then Melone who wasn’t afraid to get involved with Risotto as well, to let inhibitions go and indulge together. And your last, Prosciutto, showing you what it takes to handle being an obedient sub, which may or may not have gone just as rough as you had hoped. It had been very educational to say the least but it also made you realise how much you appreciated Risotto’s care. He’d been there the whole way through, getting his needs met in a different way, building up even more patience and strength. Maybe that’s what he’d taught you: sometimes the wait is worth it. And oh God did you want the wait to be over! It had been a month since your last lesson, the roughest so far, and you ached to be intimate again. This time with the very man you’d been craving since the start: Risotto.

For a while you pondered if you should just ask one of your teammates to help satiate that yearning, but it felt unfair. Everyone’s had their fun with you, except Risotto. So you remained patient, sure that your broody capo was very busy and trying to find the right time to squeeze you into his packed schedule. But the days kept dragging on, every call for a meeting squashing your hopes and desires when its subject was merely a new hit.

Over the few weeks you had been waiting you tried your very best to go the extra mile; willingly taking on a big chunk of paperwork so Risotto didn’t have to work such long nights, cleaning up his office, bringing him drinks and snacks throughout the day. It didn’t go unnoticed or unappreciated but his thanks were never more than just the word and a nod. He tried to hide his usual broody manner from lifting when you were around. His shoulders would relax and the tight grip on his pen would ease up, that little crease knitting his lovely brows together becoming ever so slightly less dented as he could breathe a soft sigh of relief with you near. Of course he won’t tell, or rather show you just how much he appreciates all you do for him; at least not yet.

If Risotto was truthful to himself, the wait wasn’t a planned one. Work kept piling up and your tired capo needed every bit of rest he could grasp. Knowing how good and obedient you had been with Prosciutto, Risotto knew you could handle it; well at least a bit. Your dark eyed superior wasn’t planning on anything as extreme as the former session, quite the opposite actually. He needed it to be perfect: the right day, the right mood and the right time.

And if your capo was being even more truthful to himself, his thoughts were starting to turn on him. He would be your last lesson. And the last of his men that had already quite successfully showed you how well they could indulge that eager curiosity. The final. The pressure of having to somehow top all other orgasms, top all other deep thrusts and caresses… it nagged at his mind. Pulling at the smallest insecurities that he’d freeze up when he finally had you all to himself. That he won’t be as amazing as your depraved fantasies had conjured him up to be. Even your lovely smile, your eyes that glimmered and had fireworks sparking behind them with every quick glance could only ease his mind so much.

The great Risotto Nero doubted his own expertise. The imposing, brooding, domineering capo fighting his very own powerful battle under that silly little jingly hat. Oh, what have you done to him?

For once you weren’t busy, lounging on the couch in the shared living room resting next to Melone. He’s become a bit of a confidant since your night with him, lending his ears so you could air any of your worries and more than gladly airing his own to you. Along with lots of jokes and talks late into the night, the whole ordeal had brought you closer to the usually more emotionally distant man. He’d opened up a lot more which you greatly appreciated since he’d already known so much about you.

At the moment you were just enjoying your rest, the tv in the background offering ambient noise as you nearly drifted off from the relaxed atmosphere, still a bit tired from your previous hit that strained your body. Melone idly talked about anything and nothing, the cadence of his smooth voice bringing you closer and closer to sleep. Your eyes fluttered shut for what felt like mere seconds but as it turns out you’d been taking a nap for a little while.

You were roused from the comfort of slumber by strong arms holding you close to their owner’s chest which felt well built and defined. They felt somewhat familiar in your haze, not sure if it was Melone. Too tired to really care you mumbled some indiscernible babbling, trying to thank whoever it was that so kindly laid you down on your bed.

Wait. This wasn’t your bed, the covers felt satiny, too soft and slippery to be your own thick comforter you liked to huddle in. It smelled completely different too. It smelled like… Risotto. You turned and breathed into the soft pillow, moaning in satisfaction as his smell engulfed your senses making your head feel even foggier. If you could bathe in it, you gladly would. Drenched in the most wonderful essence that clouded your thoughts in a hazy bliss.

“Mhh Ris? S’that you?” you mumbled sweetly as you came up for air, slowly opening your eyes again to assess the room you were currently in. You sat up a little, supported on your elbows, blinking at the darker hues of his surprisingly monochromatic interior. Furniture remained a dark stained wood, nearing a cool black while the walls were kept a light grey offering a lighter feel to the heavier placements of his blocky closet and bed. It was simple and straightforward, offering a seeming simplicity that contained more than it let on.

The room only lit by the soft light of the setting sun that streamed through his thinly veiled windows. As you scanned the room for any sign of him you felt a large figure loom right next to you, a little ways past the square bedside table. “Oh there you are.” A small smile gracing your lovely features, eyes meeting his darker ones that glistened with a certain excitedness you hadn’t seen before. Risotto was getting easier to read as time went on, small hints becoming clearer to his mood and thoughts, leading you to connect the dots on your own.

“All my meetings got cancelled for the day. Our boss had a sudden personal emergency.” his voice rang out even deeper than usual, the sound shivering through your core and straight into the slick building between your thighs. There was a certain relieved salacious hint to his tone, indicating it was finally time to get ravished. The long wait was finally over.

Heat rushed to your cheeks in abandon as the realisation set in. Risotto moved from his previous spot to cage you in his form, denting the mattress further with his added weight. His domineering figure offered no way out from under him, a dark gaze glued to yours as he drank in your expression. So cute and flustered, eyes wide in anticipation, a single touch could melt you. Risotto’s previous anxieties and insecurities were hushed and silenced by your innocent little stare, reminded of just how much he wanted you. Somehow you had still retained a sliver of chasteness, even after your trail of debauchery.

You swallowed thickly, too intoxicated and mesmerised by the realisation of the situation to initiate any further action. Even now you’d gladly wait for your patient capo to strike. “Wh-what are we doing today, Risotto?” Throat starting to feel dry under his continued glare, afraid to lick your plump lips to wet them again.

Risotto inched closer, his beautifully angular jaw relaxed of any previous stress moving ever closer to meet you just a breath away. Lingering over your lips he breathed in gently, as if sniffing his favourite cabernet sauvignon, basking in its essence but only for it to be yours. The one he’s smelled over and over but could never fully take in, for it was never yours alone, there was always another muddling your true essence.

“So sweet…” he mumbled, his breath tickling your lips that ached to meet his, to finally get engulfed by the man you’d craved for so long. Deciding to take a sip, sampling his sweet summer wine, his lips finally met yours. They were soft, softer than expected. Even more unexpected is how carefully he moved them against yours. For a moment he roamed cautiously as if to make sure this was really happening. You were glad he kept his pace slow, his deep kiss nearing a full short circuit of all your brain functions.

Never had you felt this before, an act so common making you feel like you’d entered the gates of heaven itself to be engulfed by anything you’d ever dreamed of. You matched his tempo, letting his tongue linger between your lips, offering a way in if he so liked. And he did, moving it with similar care and motivation, tenderly taking the lead but only to please you further. A moan escaped into his mouth, vibrating through him while your hand reached up to caress the side of his face, into his hair. He’d already forgone his usual hat, letting his silvery locks roam free. He leaned into your touch, gently rubbing a small thumb across his cheekbones and jawline. Mapping out his features in case you’d ever forget.

It made him break his kiss, slowly letting your head fall back into the pillow, admiring how plump your lips had gotten and how he’d love for them to never leave his again. No words were needed to communicate, your bodies told stories and iliads by themselves like they had been doing it for ages.

You both regained your breaths, continuing to drink up each other's flustered expressions. He looked so at ease, so at home, it made you wish he could feel like this forever. As if you weighed nothing more than a feather, he curled his arms beneath you and hoisted you up into him, cradling you and letting you wrap your legs around his hips.

To your surprise he fell onto his back, returning to his lustrous dark satin sheets with you resting on his hips. He never for a moment looked smaller or any less in charge, leading the way of your movements, knowing just what to do and how it could please you. You felt yourself get more and more excited as time went by. Your core feeling ready to explode before much was even done. You rested your hands on his chest, feeling his large length strain against his trousers, a reminder of your final challenge.

Your cheeky streak never left you, not even in this thick heavy fog of desire that seemed to permeate your very beings. You shifted in your seat to rub your clothed wetness against his aching length. The movement alone made him slightly hitch his breath, eyebrow twitching up in a playful manner to ask if you knew what type of game you’d gotten yourself into. You smirked back to let him know just how ready you’ve been to start, commencing once again with a snap of your hips. The move itself making you shiver out a moan as his girth slid perfectly between your folds, rubbing deliciously against your sore clit.

It was as if the sound awakened a new sense of hunger in the man underneath you, his eyes glazed over in lust knowing that his cock made you mewl so sweetly. That only he could truly satisfy that hunger you’ve been trying to satiate with his teammates. The thought alone made his cock twitch, springing him back into action with a great need to hear you whimper out his name.

He lifted himself up to meet your cute little face again, a sit up so casual like it caused his muscled core no effort. You couldn’t help yourself, bringing your lips back to his for a hurried kiss, a quick one to settle the craving. “Get undressed, you’re riding my face.” he demanded, kissing your jaw. His voice so closely against your neck sending yet another jolt of pleasure straight through you. Walls clenching around nothingness and awaiting his tongue.

You quickly undressed, discarding your clothes as fast as possible while trying not to look all too desperate, which was quite difficult because of his previous order to ride his face. He took off his top slow and deliberate, letting you gawk at his muscled arms and torso as they contorted. Risotto bathed in the attention, normally not one to overtly want people to stare or to crave others’ attention that much. But watching your eyes rake over his torso, your eager little glint shining brighter than any light in the room only made him want to indulge you more.

For now he’d keep his trousers on, taking in your lovely form that sat on his hips. Your plush thighs spilling over him so invitingly, the curve of your sides leading the way to your breasts that lay sweetly against your ribcage, nipples stiffened from all the excitement. He wanted to cherish every single bit of you, give every patch of soft skin the attention it deserved. If he was lucky enough he’d get the time today, and many times after to complete that wish.

It didn’t feel embarrassing to let him stare at you, his crimson eyes were so gentle when they took you in, engraving every curve and mound into his memories. Surprised that there could be even more appreciation for you than previously thought.

Risotto’s large hand reached for your hip, taking in your shape and giving it a soft knead, as if to feel how pliable you were. His touch made your skin tingle, heated sparks spreading in pools around his digits. His other hand moved parallel, assessing the very handles he’ll be holding onto in a minute. “Come on then.” he smirked up at you, his dimple presenting itself so cutely. You felt like you could pass away at how adorable his smutty request was and how casual it felt to talk to your capo in such a way. Any shame or embarrassment just simply not invited to this party.

You did as you were told, positioning yourself right above his face, caging in his head like you’d done before to dear Pesci. Maybe today you’d writhe and moan in such pleasure again, the naughty thoughts sinking you down without Risotto even needing to guide you. It made him chuckle deeply into you as his mouth met your dripping folds, the ripples of his voice tickling you.

He began to lap at you, drinking up all of your sweet essence like it was his last glass of beloved cabernet. His tongue moving with the same care as before, tracing around your clit before giving it a suck with his lips, the aching bud of nerves already hardened with pleasure. You moaned at his ministrations, clamping your thighs while he worked you, bucking your hips rhythmically; setting a comforting pace. Risotto moved in tandem, holding onto your hips like before but gripping them tighter with his large palms, fingers digging into your gorgeous form. Hot breaths swiped at your mound, a dragon breathing steam out of his nose while he softly grunted into you. You felt even more slick trickle down, glad to hear him let go like he has before and not be afraid to be heard. You loved hearing how much he was enjoying himself.

Just like many times before, heat started rising, orgasm near and bringing in tsunamis of pleasure that crashed wildly at your insides, your head reaching new heights of haziness. “Fuck Risotto-” you got out the words between ragged pants and mewls, feeling your walls tighten around his tongue that would dip in from time to time to skillfully work inside. “M gonna come sh-it!” you hunched over to grasp at the sheets for any semblance of support, no place to hold onto the bed frame since it was just out of reach. As you snapped your hips a few more times, Risotto focussing all his attention on working you into a dizzying orgasm, you came on his face. A new sensation washing over you along with the pleasure of your peak, a gushing of sorts that made you moan out his name even louder while your legs trembled around his head.

The silken fabric was too soft, not giving you any grip whatsoever, having to support yourself on your hands while sparks rippled through every crevice of your being. And Risotto had no plans of stopping, keeping up his pace and gladly licking up all your juices, having felt him growl into you when you gushed over his face. You had stopped rocking now, too focused on remaining seated; panting and trying your best not to collapse into the mattress as he kept eating you out.

Risotto ingrained every single bit of your movements and the way he could make you squirm and tremble under his attention. How you yelped out his name during worn breaths, how your thighs and core were overheating from pleasure. He was making you feel this way and no one else for once. At this moment his only job was to make you come again, knowing how quickly you could be urged into your next orgasm if he just kept going. You weren’t the only one learning stuff on this educational favour.

With another strong swirl and suck on your overstimulated clit, your second orgasm was brought on. It made you fall onto the mattress, twitching as you lifted your hips away from his face to catch your breath. The cool air offering some sort of relief while your walls anxiously clasped around empty space. Risotto could finally breathe properly again, not that he wished to be doing anything other than servicing you, cursing his lungs for needing air. His chin and mouth were completely covered in your abundant slick; something he took in pride.

You slowly moved off of him completely, chests both rising and falling deeply. The only sound filling the room was that of your combined heavy breathing. For a moment laying there, relishing in the ambience of pleasure, realising that you were getting what you had wanted. You felt relieved, thankful that he’d made you wait because somehow it made it all the better. And getting in some experience certainly helped too.

“Please fuck me.” you plainly said, reminded of the first time you’d asked him and how nervous you felt, all of that gone now. You heard him breathe out a chuckle, making you turn your head to see why he thought it so amusing of you to ask such a thing. “What’s so funny Risotto?” you asked, smiling at his glistening lower face, wiping off the remainder with his sheets. You’ll just wash them later.

“You still think I’ll just fuck you.” he replied as casually as you’d asked. His facade did not let on any sort of humouring which made your stomach sink and eyes widen. What? Was he not going to fuck you? Your thoughts started spiralling into a panic, propping yourself up to question him further. But you couldn’t even do so, with one swift move he was back on top of you, caging you underneath him with that crimson glare boring through yours.

“I won’t just fuck you gattina.” he intoned, delicately moving a strand of hair back in place while speaking. He leaned back in close now, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear as he breathed out. “We’re going to make love. It’s your last lesson.” he purred, starting a trail of soft wet kisses from your jawline all the way down to your neck and collarbones. You still remained shocked, at least glad that he didn’t mean to reject you.

You were stumped. All that was somehow still a very smooth move despite scaring the actual shit out of you. You huffed out a relieved laugh now too. “You scared me for a second, Ris!” He was steadily working his way down to your chest, letting him take one of your breasts into his hand to knead it and sucking on the pert nipple of the other. His grip was strong but still careful, making sure to massage them just enough to hear your breath hitch. “I’d never leave you hanging high and dry. Unless you’d want me to.” you could feel him smile against your skin; the mischievous bastard. You playfully tugged at his silver locks, dark eyes shooting you a gorgeous smile that pierced right through you and melted your heart. He really was a bastard!

Your heart had settled back into its place, ready to continue and forget all about the short little panic he’d caused you. Guess that was just a bit more payback for testing his patience and strength throughout the sessions.

Risotto halted his succession of pecks right above your ribs, planting a trail where your bra usually made its home and planted a few more wet kisses over the indents that still marked your skin. Like his lips would make them fade and replace them with a loving memory of his touch. You could only stare at his deliberate movements, enamoured by the way he gently held onto your sides while he kissed you sweetly. You were squirming under him, trying your best to not ask him again to plow you into the mattress because by now you knew better; he’ll get to it. Eventually.

You sighed in satisfaction when he stopped, his thick fingers now moving downwards just above your mound. He ghosted over the area, digits barely felt which made goosebumps rise all over, a small yelp leaving your lips at the soft graze. He moved further down, dipping between your soaking folds carefully, avoiding any touch to your overworked bud which still ached to be stimulated again. A single finger slid inside your amply drenched hole now, pumping in and out of you at a slow pace.

Risotto looked up at you, meeting that expression he so loved to see. Lips slightly parted, a soft wet sheen over your forehead from your orgasms, cheeks that remained heated and puffy from arousal. With every thrust he heard a soft moan escape, eyes crinkled shut while he hit further and deeper inside of you with every push. The way your eyes shot open again as he entered another finger, the thickness of them stretching you open further. It felt amazingly tender to have him take all the time he needed - you needed- to adjust to his size.

Your soaked walls clenched and squelched around him, accepting more and more, ready for the precise thing you had been waiting to receive. He hadn’t been paying your sensitive clit any mind, the only focus on working you open. But the way his fingers curled, now three of them joined inside, tickling the most pleasurable spot nestled in your walls you let go and groaned loudly as he made you near another orgasm, head heavy and lost in a thick fog. He didn’t let you come however, feeling how your walls had quickened their grasp on his fingers and how your chest heaved and how those moans and groans sounded so desperate.

He moved himself out of you slowly, creeping up closer over you again and letting his coated fingers rest on your lips. Your eyes met again, glazed over in lust and a deeper craving to be even closer to him, those dark ones so trained on every small contortion and crease of your expression. You opened your mouth to receive them, suckling at the digits and lapping up your own juices with determination. Even propping yourself up a little to better your licks and sucks, eager to work him clean.

Risotto felt like he could burst, your tongue working with a focus that you couldn’t offer last time you had your mouth wrapped around him; too busy being fucked into oblivion on both ends. Satisfied with your cleaning he took them out of your mouth and kissed you again. Deeply and tenderly, tasting each other and your essence on his lips as tongues danced around. It was enrapturing to indulge so much but you were both ready to finally have his large leaking cock inside of you. He promptly discarded his trousers, his leaking head and impressive shaft bobbing as he got ready for you. The image alone never failed to surprise you, making your mouth water in anticipation.

“I’ve waited for this so long. Please don’t hold back, Ris.” you sighed as he kept you on your back, legs being spread open and moved up and wide with your knees bent closer to your chest. More than enough room to accommodate the man and his daunting length, the air no longer fresh or cooling; too heavy with the scent of lust and the heat of the moment. Risotto clasped both of your wrists in one of his hands, his large palms comfortably holding them and reaching them above your head where he held them pressed into the mattress. He leaned over you now, once again capturing you under him in a way that felt so protective and safe, the place where he’d take care of you and cherish every single moment pleasing you.

The familiar tip of his leaking member grazing just outside your hole, leaning at the entrance. Somehow the feeling made you tremble, the fires burning between your thighs lapping flames against him. “Oh I won’t hold back, you’re going to feel every single inch of me.” his wordiness surprised you, the way his deep voice carried making you weak.

His other hand supported his weight beside your head, letting his hips do all the work of carefully pressing deeper into you. The intrusion made you gasp, his head welcomed by your previously stretched walls. Wailing as he slowly inched further and further. He stopped every couple seconds, groaning deeply between heavy breaths, so vocal in how good you fit around him; so warm and inviting. “Cazzo you feel so good-” he muttered under his breath, starting to pump in and out of you, not even fully sheathed yet.

Being so stretched out, hitting every single spot and hidden pleasure-centers made you see stars, eyes pinched shut and squirming under his firm grasp on your wrists. It felt even better than you could ever imagine. He was perfect, made just for you and you for him. The final puzzle piece clicking in place.

When he finally buried himself inside of you, a thrust paced and calculated as to not hurt you in any way, his tip brushed against your cervix sending shivers down your body as you yelped at the sensation. He paused again, letting you pulse around him, feeling every contortion of your core. “Please keep going Risotto, please-” you whimpered, opening your eyes again to beg with a pleading gaze. Of course he can’t deny you, he’s never been able to.

Set back in action he started a steady rhythm, hips rolling his cock inside you with ease. Every single thrust brushing against your g-spot sending wave upon wave of pleasure through you. At this point no one was being quiet, much to your delight. His deep grunts and moans awakening a need to hear them on repeat every single day of your life. It only egged him on to hear you wailing, tears starting to prick the corners of your eyes while he continued. Completely lost in ecstasy, not a single thought in either of your heads other than this moment.

You felt your orgasm earn footing again, his cock reaching so deep and right. Feeling you clasp around him so often only made him twitch, getting close too and all too focused on making you come again before he can spill. “Touch yourself, I want to feel you come on my dick- You’re so beautiful.” He groaned desperately when you clenched even harder around him, his words affecting you greatly. He freed your wrists, letting his other hand support himself as well, letting him deepen his thrusts even further with the added grip.

You toyed your clit with vigour, your folds soaked with your slick letting you increase your pace. Desperate for your orgasm to wash over you while Risotto increased his speed as well. Chasing your peaks together, you reached it first. You could only mumble something that vaguely resembled Risotto’s name at this point, over and over like a mantra that lead your orgasm on. You felt yourself gush over his length again, dripping down onto his already soiled sheets. As you pulsed and writhed riding the waves of it to shore, Risotto followed suit. With a loud guttural groan you felt him tense up and twitch, releasing inside of you with languid spurt of his warm come. His thrusts slowed and sputtered as he kept coming. For a man of his expertise and experience, this was the first time someone had made him come this hard. Well, it was the first of many things he’s experienced with you.

Both breathing heavily as he stopped, resting above you and eyes opening again to adoringly stare at each other's satisfied faces. His eyes held a certain emotion he hadn’t let himself show before; he needn’t use words. You smiled back at him, that goofy satisfied one he always looked forward to seeing after a session, communicating back that you shared his sentiment.

As soon as he pulled out you felt so dreadfully empty again but never have you felt more full on a different level. That hunger that gnawed at you before now finally satiated (even if just for tonight). You had gotten what you wanted and so much more. The look on Risotto’s face told you much the same for him as he laid down next to you, pulling you into his arms where you nuzzled his sweaty chest. You placed tired kisses on him, basking in his soft caresses over your shoulders and into your neck where he gently massaged your scalp. You melted into his touch, sighing deeply and feeling your sleepiness settle in again. “Thank you Risotto. For everything. I… I really appreciate all you’ve done for me.” you admitted, listening to his heartbeat settle with your head pressed against it, drawing circles into his biceps with your finger.

“I wasn’t sure at first but I’m glad we did it. All of it. It might be strange to say but-” he sighed as he planted another kiss on the crown of your head. “I’m proud of you.” he felt relief wash over him for finally having said what he’d wanted to for so long. It may have been such an unusual thing to have gone through together but he really was proud of you. For always being open minded and learning along the way, for getting what you wanted and even bringing the squad closer together since commencing the journey.

Sat between his legs, enjoying the warmth of the water and letting small bubbles fizz at your skin while you let Risotto massage your scalp. He worked the shampoo through your locks with care and purpose as you sat there, eyes closed, head tilted back, fully enjoying the moment. Having him with you as you regained your senses felt so wonderful, usually doing it by yourself as Risotto retreated in the past. But now was his turn to take care of you like he’d wanted. He washed your limbs, running the washcloth soaked in your favourite scented body wash over every plane of skin. Giggling as he paid extra attention to your breasts. “They need cleaning too.” he mumbled playfully. It was like you’d opened up a whole other side to your capo, finally showing slivers of his more vulnerable side, not afraid to let you in.

In return you washed his hair too, scratching and circling every spot that made him putty in your hands. You don’t think he’s ever been this relaxed before. You traced the lines of his muscles, mapping out dividing routes and connecting them again only to break off and discover new ones.

Perhaps staying in the bath a bit too long as you both pruned up, digits crinkled like raisins. Dressed back in the most comfortable clothes you owned, Risotto and you went out into the shared headquarters again. You felt renewed and somehow a bit changed since last walking through these halls. Everyone was seated at the long dinner table that faced the kitchen, talking loudly and passing plates and scooping up helpings of pasta and sauce. Their noise dissipating once you and Risotto entered, eyes now pointed towards your direction and following as you both took your usual seats.

You remained quiet, a smirk gracing your lips as you tried to contain your laughter at the curious stares of your colleagues. “Good nap?” Melone quipped, a salacious smile covering his face, he knows he’ll get all the details later on. “Uhu!” you nodded happily as you held out your plate for Illuso to fill it with pasta, who did as asked with a quirked eyebrow. “Learned enough?” Formaggio asked next, wolfing down his food and basking in the moment of openness. “One can never stop learning.” you replied politely, watching as your plate got handed to Pesci who had turned as red as the sauce he was ladling onto your plate. “Got good grades?” Prosciutto asked, letting himself join in on the questioning with a minuscule smile curling the corner of his mouth upwards. “Top of her class.” Risotto interjected, letting his dimple return as he started his meal. “I might do some extra credit, just in case.” and with that you began your dinner, happily twirling the pasta around your fork and letting your colleagues figure out how you will ever be satiated.

#it is done my dearies!! i hope you enjoy because i had a lot of fun doing it #jjba x reader #risotto x reader #la squadra x reader #risotto nero x reader #risotto imagine #jojo smut #jjba smut #jojo x reader #minors dni #notsfw #jjba fic #jojo's bizarre adventure #risotto nero #la squadra

211 notes · View notes

honeytea8 · 4 years

Note

Ooooo! I saw that requests were open! You reckon I could get a Risotto falling in love with someone who’s the complete opposite of him? And he’s all like convincing himself he isn’t but then they go and get hurt and he goes like o.O (I can’t describe it but I hope you get me) haha anyways thank you it means so much! 💕💕

I totally get you, thank you for the request, my dear! ❤️ And maybe I totally used this as an excuse to feed my love for Mr. Nero lmao! 😂

Given the kind of high-risk lifestyle Risotto Nero leads, it’s unlikely that he’d entertain thoughts of romance or love. He’s gone years without doing so, however, all this changes once he meets you.

He honestly doesn’t know what to do with himself anymore. Since the day you walked into his life, his thoughts have been on you constantly.

He finds himself wondering how you’re doing, what you’re doing, what are your likes and dislikes, aspirations, etc. Risotto catches himself steadily keeping a watchful eye on you to make sure you're assimilating into the squad, more than he normally would for a new recruit.

Whenever you need something or have any questions, he wants to be the first person you call upon for help.

Suffice to say, Mr. Nero is falling for you, and hard.

He hesitates in pursuing you, because you are nothing like him: you are kind, gracious, and selfless and he feels he doesn’t deserve you.

Ultimately, he comes to the decision to just ignore his feelings for the time being, focus on his work and being the leader of the execution team instead.

Distractions should have no place in his mind—you should have no place in his mind apart from being a member of his squad, right?

This is what he’s thinking, but a reckoning comes in the form of you being injured on the job. Whatever tentative “lid” placed on his feelings for you is destroyed in an instant.

As you’re brought in, one arm clinging to Formaggio, Risotto feels his heart stop in his chest.

Immediately he starts questioning: “What happened to them? Spare no details.”

While your partner rattles off the details of the entire mission, Risotto begins to tend to your wounds. With his stand, he keeps your blood localized so you don’t lose any more of it.

Thankfully, the gash seems to be a clean cut. Since staples are more convenient and a lot faster than sutures, Risotto resolves to use his stand once again to close up the wound.

All the while, you’re delirious from the pain and a possible fever, so he works as quickly and efficiently as he can.

Your pained expression is seared into his mind, he likely won’t ever forget it anytime soon. The entire ordeal leaves him a bit raw, so while you rest in your assigned room, he remains in his office to work through his thoughts without the sight of you all bandaged up.

Sometime in the middle of the night, while sleep evades him, he hears you calling for him.

“Y/n, what do you need?”

The room is dimly lit, so he notes the quiver in your lips and the tears in your eyes. Whatever you want to say remains lodged in your throat.

When you raise a hand and reach out to him, Risotto can’t deny the thuddering in his chest, but he can ignore it for the time being. He brings a chair over and sits at your bedside, then takes a moment to ask if you remember what happened.

Once Risotto determines you're okay, even in a relative sense, he’s satisfied and you’ll notice the tension leave him immediately.

“I was worried about you.” he’ll reluctantly admit.

You will be left to assuage any lingering fears he may have concerning your well being. And that moment will be both the ending of one chapter and the beginning of another.

Risotto won’t confess in some grandiose fashion, because that really isn’t his style. However, you will notice him being a bit more loose with his “affections” towards you.

Following this incident, Risotto will decide to try his luck—life is indeed too short to live with regrets.

The more time you spend together gives him a way to learn more about you, things like your favorite food, pastimes and maybe even a bit of your personal life.

One day he may invite you over and cook one of your favorite meals. And at that point, you are aware he has feelings for you!

I’ve always thought of Risotto as kind of a “homebody”, so expect many nights spent at home just enjoying one another’s company in a casual and laid back atmosphere.

You will have to walk him through the love thing, since it’s new territory for him but Risotto is a quick study. He is willing to spend a lifetime learning and loving you.

#risotto nero x reader #risotto nero #jojo headcanons #jojo #jojo’s bizarre adventure #jjba #vento aureo #jojo x reader #jjba x reader #honeycanons

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skvaderarts · 3 years

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Hiraeth Chapter 51: Summation

Masterlist can be found Here!

Chapter Fifty-One: Summation

Note: I had to cook dinner, so I forgot to upload this until 11 pm. I also forgot that it was Wednesday. Just like how I forgot it was one of my friend’s birthdays today. YIKES. My bad hahaha! Check the end-of-chapter notes! Hope you had a good day!

(-~-)

Varying degrees of confusion overtook the entire room as everyone present attempted to try and figure out what was going on. Aside from Magnolia and Lucia, everyone there had heard a great deal about Morgan from the time that the young summoner had described his harrowing ordeal up north, but none of them would have ever expected that she would appear before them, especially at a time like this. And as strange as this all seemed to be for them, it was apparently even stranger for the young summoner.

Standing just a foot or two from her now as he attempted to help her with her bags, she shooed him away, assuring him that she was perfectly capable of handling them on her own. She’d carried them all the way from where she’d been starting to the car, and she’d made it up all of the stairs in front of Magnolia’s house. This would be a snap in comparison.

“Really though, when didja get those wicked tattoos? They had to hurt like hell, right? I mean, how much of your body do they cover, anyway?” Morgan sat her bags down by the side of the stairs, eager to get them out of the way of the walking path. No need to cause anyone to trip. She then looked around the room at the rest of the occupants, nodding to herself as she seemingly considered something. “Sorry I fell out of contact, V. I know you were probably worrying about what happened to me. There was a lot going on back then.”

It occurred to V at that moment that he was wearing a long sleeved V neck sweater. She couldn’t see most of them, only the ones on his wrists and hands and the ones visible around his neck. She was in for one hell of a surprise in more ways than one. They had so much to catch up on despite the fact that it had only been about three years since he’d last see her. Where had that kind of time gone?

A small smile spread across V’s face for a split second as he leaned against the wall, folding his arms around himself. There was still a small part of him that couldn’t believe she was actually standing here in front of him again. She’d certainly gotten taller in the time since he’d last seen her. Not by much, but she had been so very short when last they’d met. Their height difference had always been comical to him. “Likewise. And please, think nothing of it. In all honesty, that is probably more my fault than yours. It’s a bit difficult to mail a letter to someone who is completely transient.”

Nero chuckled to himself from the other side of the room. “Yea, he kinda ran off and joined the circus or something like that. It probably does make it kind of tricky to track someone down when they don’t have an actual address. I don’t even understand how they paid him.”

Morgan blinked in surprise before bursting into hysterical laughter, leaning over to rest her open palms on her legs. She shook her head before looking up again, making momentary eye contact with V. The moment she saw the soft red blush that had spread across his face and the poor job that he was doing to hide it, she started to laugh again, this time even harder than the last time. “You know what, I’m not even surprised. So you joined the circus, hu?”

“As a matter of fact, I did not. It was a traveling theater. There is a distinct difference.” V’s blush deepened as he became visibly embarrassed. Still, he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t find that response from Nero entertaining. After all, he knew that he was only joking. They had discussed this previously, and he was honestly pleasantly surprised that his brother remembered what he’d been up to during that window of time.

“Oh, you're totally right, V! One of them doesn’t have animals, right?” The sarcasm was evident in that statement. Was it possible to roll your eyes by speaking alone? Because if so, she had just done it. “So, I can’t help but notice that you're not the only one in the room with that fancy hair color anymore… Care to introduce me?”

For reasons that he couldn’t place, V’s entire brain ceased functionality as soon as she said that, unable to do much in the way of forming meaningful thoughts. Obviously, he knew that they were his relatives, but it hadn’t occurred to him until just then that he’d never introduced them as such before. Well, at least not as a group. He was genuinely surprised by how staggeringly uncomfortable he now was, especially when he barely understood why. Perhaps because she knew he had previously been an orphan?

“Yes, you're quite right. I should.” V gestured towards Nero, finding that it was probably more simple to start with him than it would be with his uncle and father. They took the same amount of introduction, but he had the feeling he knew which of them she would ask the most questions about. “The one you just spoke to is Nero. He’s my younger brother.”

Blinking in surprise, she nodded, giving the youngest descendant of Sparda a thumbs up. She then returned her attention back to V. “Cool. Good to see you’ve got someone in your corner now. Different moms or dads in the equation? If that’s not overstepping.”

“They have different mothers, yes.”

Morgan and V both looked over at Vergil, both seemingly surprised to hear him speak. He had been so quiet up until then that it was actually jarring to see him speak. When she looked back over at V, he gestured towards the older man, nodding in confirmation of what he assumed she had probably just figured out from that statement. “This is my father, Vergil. The one standing next to him is his brother, Dante. My uncle. And I believe you’ve already had some form of communication with Magnolia.”

“Is she your aunt or something like that?” She inquired, clearly noting the lack of a family resemblance. She then lingered on Vergil for a long moment in a manner that the Darkslayer couldn’t quite place. There was some emotion there that seemed familiar to him, but he genuinely couldn’t place the origin of it.

V pondered the question for a moment before nodding slightly, his head tilted somewhat to one side. He didn’t really know how to explain her relationship to him. After all, they were not related, but that didn’t really matter to him in much the same way that he imagined Lady and Trish not being related to Dante didn’t change anything. The only problem was that they didn’t have that kind of relationship, either. Perhaps something more familial, but not in a sibling sort of way. “Something more than that, but not by any blood or marital bonds.”

Magnolia blinked in surprise. She was clearly taken aback, but in a good way. And then that state of surprise instantly migrated to something else entirely. She was genuinely flattered, but she had to admit that the feeling was mutual. It was hard to place her finger on it, but V did indeed mean a great deal to her. She’d spend every moment since she’d helped bring him back from the space beyond death worrying that he would return there. She genuinely did care about him, and she was glad to see that he did, too.

Dante’s pupils dilated a few centimeters at the statement, a staggering amount of serotonin rushing to his brain as he seemed to physically process the fact that one of his nephews had actually just called him their uncle. It was true, after all. He was indeed their uncle… but he was certain that he’d never heard one of them actually say as much, and he was honestly expecting Nero to be the first one to ever bring it up. He felt a sudden urge to lay down. Or, at the very least, sit down. Something he did immediately.

Continuing to look at them both, Vergil joined his younger twin on the couch, seemingly pleasantly surprised that his eldest son had actually mentioned their relation to him and not just their names. He would not have objected if he had, either way, he was taken off guard by his son’s sudden moment of transparency. Morgan had clearly earned his trust.

“Nice to meet you all.” She said with a soft but pleasant smile as she looked at each of the people that he had just introduced. Especially you, Nero. Us annoying little siblings have to stick together, you know?”

“I think I like her, V,” Nero said, making a sound somewhere between a scoff and a chuckle. She reminded him of Nico in a way, except much less overtly chaotic. Well, at least so far. She had kicked a dude off of a truck and down a mountain to his probable death as a young teenager. That was pretty hardcore.

“And speaking of annoying siblings…” She made her way across the short space between her and Bren, only to pull her leg back and kick him full force in the shin. He yelped and hopped up and down, her foot clearing finding its mark with devastating force. She folded her arms across his chest, shaking her head as he regained his composure, clearly dissatisfied. “Brenowin Linquist! Do you have any idea how much trouble you're in right now? My High School graduation is tomorrow! What the hell did you do this time?!”

“Using the first and last name, hu? Looks like I’m dead already and I just don’t know it.” He shrugged in embarrassment, clearly genuinely ashamed of his actions. Morgan never yelled. She got excited, but it was rare for her to raise her voice in anger. “I thought you said you hated that preppy school full of rich kids and that you weren't even going to that graduation ceremony in the first place.”

“Oh, I’m not. But you still would have made me miss it if I wasn’t planning on not going.” She shook her head and sat down on Magnolia’s stairs. She seemed to watch everyone silently for a moment before shrugging and

“You know what? That’s a good point. I’m sorry about all of this. It’s my fault. Again. I really hope you can forgive me for it one day.”

Magnolia’s brow furrowed. “Wait… your graduation is in late September? That doesn’t seem quite right. I’m surprised that your school has a graduation ceremony at all.”

The young woman nodded in agreement. “Normally it would have been in June, but then Redgrave City happened and the parents of almost a third of the school died or went missing, so they decided to push it back and have us come back in September if we still wanted to do it. Guess it would have been a major downer to watch like half of the students and faculty cry hysterically on the stage, and they just have to keep up appearances at all costs, ya know?” She shrugged nebulously, but it was obvious that there was some sort of history there. None of them were going to ask about it, however. Especially not Vergil. He was too busy trying his level best to will himself out of the room, the reality of the indirect (and somewhat direct) results of his actions weighing down on him like a tin can in a hydraulic press. He really had done that to them, hadn’t he…

“Rich kids aren’t allowed to show that they have feelings. The school taught us that much. They would have probably waited to tell us our families died just so that it didn’t interfere with our test scores if the timings had coincided. The school has a reputation for having the best test scores or whatever. But the disaster just missed the testing period so they didn’t need to.” Bren folded his arms, shaking his head. He certainly didn’t miss that damn school. He had her beat by two years, but that didn’t mean that anything was different. The same teachers that taught his sister had probably taught him.

“... Why not go just to spite them? They probably say you leave and are expecting you to stay away, sure of their victory against you. I get the distinct impression that they weren't very welcoming to you during your time spent there.”

Everyone in the room turned and looked at V like he’d just grown a second head. That was something that they genuinely would have expected to hear come from Vergil’s mouth. And Vergil seemed to agree, his interest clearly piqued. It seemed that even V had his moments. It was almost humbling to know that he too felt this way about how others acted towards him from time to time.

“I get the feeling you're speaking from personal experience?” Bren said, raising an eyebrow. He seemed genuinely shocked that V had said that. He didn’t seem like he was that passive-aggressive, but then again, they had just met and he was basing that assumption entirely off of how quiet he was and how meek he seemed to be. It wouldn’t have been the first time that he was wrong.

“You would be correct,” V said simply, looking down at the floor for a moment. It hadn’t occurred to him until then that he’d never really told them anything about his teenage years. Everything that had happened between his childhood and the time that he’d met Morgan was difficult and not a topic that he discussed lightly. Perhaps one day, but not in front of a stranger, and certainly not right now. This wasn’t the time.

Realizing that this had the potential to become an incredibly uncomfortable conversation, they decided to change the subject. After all, they had more pressing matters to attend to. V’s curse and the situation that Morgan had unfortunately found herself in were going to be their top priorities. And it seemed that the easiest way of fixing both of those problems was to get rid of their pressure and go after Belial. At this point, it was the only thing they could do. But how to go up against an opponent that they couldn’t find or effectively do battle against? This was going to be tough, but they had been through tuff before. They could do this. They just needed more information and an actual plan.

“By any chance, are you the ones that everyone is talking about on the news? Because you look like them, and ya kinda look like you just got out of a fight. No offense.” Morgan chuckled to herself as shook her head. V just attracted crazy people and trouble like a moth to a flame didn’t he. “Everyone is saying that you keep showing up to save the day during these huge disasters. Were you there during the Redgrave incident? And as for the graduation… I just might. You make a good point.”

“Whatever brings you satisfaction,” V said in an almost sinister tone that took them off guard. Nero shook his head slightly and laughed to himself. Sometimes he forgot that V could be an utterly terrifying force of nature when he wanted to be. Perhaps it was best that he kept his older sibling away from a school filled with spoiled, rude brats. But somehow he had the feeling that V had prior with exactly that sort of peer group. That little peek into his past had revealed quite a bit, and now he could speculate. It would explain his lack of interest in social interaction. Children could be cruel.

“Actually… yea, you're not wrong. They’re talking about all of us. They’ve just never seen everyone at once. We kinda turn up to get rid of the demons during stuff like that.” Dante said casually. There was no point in hiding it. She was right, and they didn’t have time to waste on mysteries. “Me and Vergil weren't at the station just now, but Nero and V were. And Lucia. And… um….” He didn’t know the slightest bit about Flora. In fact, her name escaped him at the moment. Had they even met before? She’d been at V’s house the entire time, so he couldn’t be sure.

“Flora. I’m Flora. Don’t worry about me though. I’m with her” She said pointing at Magnolia,” And not with them. Well, I’m with them, but we're not related or anything. I just came to town to help out about two weeks ago. Field studies and all that. You know how it is. Or maybe you don’t. Look I don’t-” She stopped abruptly, deciding to chew her gum instead of saying more. Everything that had just happened had completely destroyed her will to live. She wasn’t good at introductions. At all.

V kicked himself internally for forgetting to mention Lucia. She’d been right there, after all. He just hadn’t really known what to say. “Lucia is an old friend of Dante’s. She’s not related to any of us, at least from what we know.”

Lucia nodded, giggling to herself quietly. If they’d only known. She was not, in fact, a descendant of the Dark Knight Sparda. But her mother and Dante and Vergil’s father had been close for years. For all they knew, it could have very well turned out differently should he had not met Eva. She couldn’t say. She only had her mother’s stories to go off of, and she didn’t particularly want to know those stories. Too much personal information, especially if something more substantial had occurred.

He looked down at his arm, noticing that he’d been rubbing it idly for a few minutes now. V wasn’t entirely sure what had made him notice, but he was inexplicably drawn to it all of a sudden. And when he did look at it, he felt his blood run slightly cold. He’d been gone from the house for entirely too long.

“Perhaps it is best that we head to my house. It would be a better place to discuss this… “

Noticing the slight hint of worry in V’s voice, Vergil nodded. It was best that they take both of them somewhere more secure. Well, all three of them, actually. They could keep a better eye on them all if they were in one place. “Yes, I believe it is time to give Magnolia her house back. We have matters to attend to.”

(-~-)

I’M BACK, EVERYONE! I’ve missed you all, but I am so very glad that you talked me into taking a little break! I didn’t see your wonderful messages until now, and I just wanted to say that I genuinely adore all of you, and your kindness was very much needed and appreciated. Your encouragement and compassion meant the world to me, and I’m happy to say now that I’m okay and ready to keep writing! From the bottom of my heart, THANK YOU! I’m excited to see you all again in the comments and on Friday! Take care!

#Hiraeth #V #Dante #Vergil #Nero #Lucia #My OC's #My DMC OC's #DMC

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inviouswriting · 4 years

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Free - Butler!AU

Aymeric x Kiya

For the butler!au from @whitherliliesbloom

Let me start this off with. I know how some will feel out of character. But this is an AU, there will be moments where characters will always feel like that. Don’t come at me to point out the obvious. I know Nero would least likely be involved, but again this is an AU. I’m not aiming for canon! So now that we got that straight.

Some warnings in place.

Some blood, some people getting stabbed, TW!forced marriage. Things that can cross into the abuse category with how some people treat their daughters as business trade investments. But remember this has a good ending. I’d never write something that made me uncomfortable.

With that out of the way. Enjoy~ This was suppose to have gone up yesterday but I got busy with other things.

Cameos mentioned.

@whitherliliesbloom , @meepsthemiqo , @maiden-born-in-snow , @wysteria-ffxiv , and @tatyltails

Kiya has no idea how things got like this, she is staring at the courtyard from her window and the decorations are already being hung for a wedding. She replayed the previous night in her head, spending time with Aymeric put her in good spirits, but the day had finally come where she would either leave with him or leave married to a man she did not love and be expected to give children.

Kivera was grumbling to herself as she got Kiya ready for the disaster outside in her eyes. She is putting trust in Aymeric, alot of trust, she did not want to see this girl be used for others merits.

There is a knock on Kiya's door and Kivera opens it with a very angry glare. To Aymeric who steps back seeing the maid glowering at him.

"What do YOU want?!"

"Kivera. Please. Let me speak to both of you." He does not miss the lashing of Kivera's tail. She steps aside and let's him in. He spies Kiya dressed in a white dress, looking the part of a bride. Yet he sees on her face the worry.

Kiya looks up at him, curiosity etched into her face as to why he is there.

"It's official now, Edmont signed last night. As of now, you have no assets that these men could want. Other than you, but they'll have to fight me for you." Aymeric saysbwith a grin. He sees Kiya's face light up ag being told she is free, but now to break it to the world.

"Of course when we get back to Ishgard, you will have to stay in the dorms for a bit before you are back in the house to sort the red tape and such. I think you can manage." Kiya nods and Kivera gives him a quirked eyebrow.

"So tell me, what and when do you plan to reveal this information?" Kivera tugs in Kiya's hair a bit fixing it to the curled braid and spirals. Kiya swats at her hands only to have her face pinched.

"At the ceremony. What better spot than to speak now." Aymeric sees Kivera's eyes light amused.

"You know Ilberd might lose his cool. Don’t get stabbed." Kivera warns him.

"That is why I came to you. I think this would be safer in your grasp than mine till the moment." Aymeric hands Kivera the parchment and the miqo takes it hiding it up her sleeve.

"Alright, but if you fail." Kivera gives him a warning glare. Aymeric tugs at his collar then kneels in front of Kiya. To reassure her, he cups her face and places a gentle kiss on her lips avoiding smearing the lip paint.

"You will come home with me. Now I must go help Edmont to his spot. It is almost about. to begin." Kiya gets one more kiss from him before Kivera chases him out for the kisses.

Kivera touches her up, and then they wait. They walk down to a room before the courtyard. Kiya feels panic in her body at what if things go wrong. She recalls Aymeric telling her to have faith in him but it doesn't erase the anxiety in her.

Kiya peeks from the window seeing friends and names. From Shuri and her entourage, Illya and Alphinaud, Meeps and Asahi, Wysteria and Zenos. Kiya sees people who sympathize with her and want to help but can't when they have their own ordeals.

Another knock, this one belonging to Ilberd.

"It is time. Let's get this over with." Ilberd says as he begins to wander out. Kivera sighs as it is now nor never. She hopes for never.

The walk down the aisle was nerve wracking for Kiya every step felt like she had a ball around her ankle dragging her to them. She spies her friends who give anxious looks or glaring daggers at the scene unfolding in front of them.

Kiya reaches the altar and glares through the veil at the men. She felt every nerve on fire, she wanted to burn things, cast fire and ice till the whole place went up in flames for making her do this. Kivera stands to her side, along with a few choice friends from Nanamo to Tatyl.

There was silence before the officiant began, reciting old words. Kiya wriggles her hands out of Nero’s grasp preferring to keep them at her side for now. There was the moment some were waiting for.

“If there should be a reason these two should not be married, speak now.” Kiya opens her mouth to speak and is shot a glare by Ilberd. She growls low and speaks anyway.

“I don’t want to do this!” Kiya takes a step back, and Aymeric takes this opportunity to get up and make for the center.

“I have some words myself. This woman, is under Ishgard’s maidservant training. In such, all who enter this careful practice relinquish their inheiritances, statuses, wealth, and namely anything that gives them leverage over their peers. It’s what makes us pretty good servers to be treated as equals.” Aymeric looks over to Nero who is comprehending what he just said.

“In other words, you could marry her, but you won’t get anything you are aiming for. Lolorito neglected to inform you didn’t he? That Kiya signed up on her own, they were hoping to marry her off, and save title by having her a Scaeva.” Aymeric looks over at the lalafell who only grins wide.

“Not that any of this matters to me. It was mostly Ilberd’s plan for Nero. You know how butler’s lose rank if their charges and wards lose their goals. An event like this? He’ll be a D rank by the end of the day, if not fired first.” Lolorito looks up at Kiya who only gives him glares.

“Why drag me along in this?”

“Entertainment. Now the cat’s out of the bag.” Lolorito looks over to Nero who wisely walks away throwing his hands up.

“Back to Cid’s workshop for me.” He doesn’t even chance it. Aymeric pulls out a copy of the Ishgardian laws for Lolorito to read and Kiya’s parents who are more than mortified. Lolorito only accepted Kiya as a bargaining piece so they could pay off a debt to some wine makers. Lolorito also didn’t expect such a chase on the girl. Not that he could complain she is pretty.

“I’m fond of her, but I got what I wanted out of these charades.” Lolorito walks off after other guests as they get up and start to filter once they realized a wedding wasn’t happening.

Ilberd was silent and eyed the parchment on the table, he wondered if burning it would revoke this. Kivera sees his eyes on it, and they both reach for it. Kivera a little faster and the moment Ilberd’s hand graces the table, she plunges a knife into his hand pinning it there.

The pained anguish that comes from Ilberd reaches the ears of a few and they turned to look in awe. Ilberd holds his hand now bleeding and glares at Kivera who smirks down at him.

“I’ll be taking this. You dare try to ruin this, I’ll gut you like a pig. Mark my words boy.” Kivera hands the parchment over to Aymeric who takes it and further grasps Kiya’s hand to start taking her away from the madness. Kivera follows after them as a way to guard them.

“My life will be ruined, my life is ruined..” Ilberd looks up at the officiant who just shrugs his shoulders and starts tearing up the marriage documents that were prepared. He had seen the sadness on Kiya’s face through the veil at being forced into marriage.

“You know, marriage is suppose to be about love and happiness, and consenting. Not used as a business. It is appalling at what men do with daughters sometimes. Marry them off once they’re old enough to bleed and have children.” The officiant sees the defeated man and offers a rag to stop the wound.

Something seemed to click and Ilberd gets to his feet, Kiya, and Aymeric made it up the long stairs to go back into the palace. Kivera lingers and looks over her shoulder as she helps usher guests inside. They may as well make use of the banquet. Kivera sees Ilberd dashing up the stairs, and makes a face.

“By Hades and Thanatos. Will this never end?” Kivera takes her knife and turns to Kiya and grabs the hem of the gown and starts cutting it at her legs to remove the skirt from tripping her.

“Kivera?” Kiya winces as the knife nicks her leg.

“Sorry, but it looks like you’ll be missing the festivals a bit. Aymeric get this girl out of here before there are casualties.” Aymeric nods and picks Kiya up as well as usher his wards out to the chocobo they arrived in. They make it as far as the door when Kivera lets out a screech at being stabbed with a rapier.

“Kivera?!” Kiya calls out.

“Get out of here! I’ll be fine. Not the first time. But for this guy it’ll be the last time.” Kivera stares back at Ilberd.

“You ruined so much for me..”

“Me? Ruin things for you? Don’t be daft. You did it to yourself with forcing that girl’s hand. There are plenty of willing heiresses who would have been glad to have Scaeva, but you settled on Kiya because of the market trading she was tied to.” Kivera pulls herself off the blade and gives her wound a check seeing it healing already. Ilberd stares in horror at realizing she is not of this realm.

“What manner of creature are you.”

“Your death if you keep this up.” The knife Kivera holds to her side changes from the little tonberry knife to a grand scythe. Ilberd connects well that he had just harmed something that shrugs it off like a mongoose being bitten by a garter snake.

Zenos and Wysteria see this change, and Galvus looks on amused at what was about to happen. Wysteria shocked at seeing an otherworldly being for the first time.

There is an exchange and Kivera uses the scythe pressing it down onto the ground and uses it as leverage to kick Ilberd back outside with her following him down the stairs they just climbed.

Ilberd lands back on his feet and prepares to fight with the reaper. This exchange is witnessed by the Fontaye house. Just coming up from the Garden. Startling the heiress head as Ilberd gathers to his feet and runs with Kivera in hot pursuit. Estinien gives a glance after Kivera who was sweeping her scythe at the back of Ilberd’s feet enough to make the man jump and he swears he could see flames at the end of her blade.

“Want me to follow them, Princess?” He offers to go lend his spear if things got out of control.

“Please do.” Estinien leaves her to run after the two in a fight, with Zenos walking slowly to follow. He doesn’t want to miss this, but doesn’t appear anxious for it.

Kivera brandishes the scythe and crosses it in front as the two square off in blows of blade to blade. The sky was changing from bright sunny to a thick fog rolling in. Kivera notes they are at the front of the palace, and she could see in the distance her ward running, she had bought them enough time to get so far but it was getting them out of the area. She felt at ease but returns her eyes to Ilberd who knocks her back with a blow of his sword onto the front of her scythe.

Kivera holding back just a bit to allow people chances to leave. From above Zenos steps forward to watch the spectacle finding it of amusement more than the party. Ilberd lands another stab at her chest where her heart should be, and Kivera only glares down at him.

“Honestly, did you really think stabbing me would solve anything?” Kivera’s clothes change from the maid outfit she once wore into something more fitting for her taste as a butler. A suit to match and smirk on her face. She kicks him back and sends a shock through their weapons to drop him onto his back paralyzing him briefly and she jumps on top of him poising her scythe down near his neck.

“We are going to let them leave here.” She has a wild look on her face. Ilberd was about to raise up when the scythe presses down and he feels immeasurable strength behind her hold. She could easily crush him, or kill him. She would if it meant her ward leaves a happy woman.

“I’ve witnessed that girl grow up to be raised prim and proper, guided every which way to be. She chooses one thing for herself, and everyone has a problem with it. And I’ll be damned to hell again if I allow someone like you, the chance to enslave her in something like “THAT” You’ll accept your resignation of St Lucia’s ranks. If you come after my girl again. I will come for your head. got it?” Frantic nods from Ilberd and Kivera was about to step away.

“So you would let her do as she wan-” The scythe’s point aims dangerous at the center of his head now.

“Not another word. Realize the position you are in. That talk should be reserved for someone who cares, and someone on the winning side instead of losing.” Kivera amuses aloud, she straightens herself and looks around at the onlookers. She spies Kiya’s parents looking the part of wealthy oriented parents do. The mother in a fine dress and the father looking worn out of his mind.

“You two. Disown your daughter! You have no right to her anymore. Per the agreement with Lolorito. If she failed to marry someone to pay off your debt, the contract would be void. Release that girl from THIS.”

“How would we pay off the debt then?”

“Getting a damned job like the rest of us. I’m sure Lolorito would have a fitting job for the both of you. Since you have no problems about controlling someones life, how about we fix you both up to work it off in a different manner?” Kivera glances over to her ward who offers a nod and grin. Kivera glances down at Ilberd.

“You will be resigning your rank, status, and anything else if you want to keep your head on. You’re not even worth killing.” Kivera hops off and kicks him once in the side. She looks over to Lolorito who eyes her curious with amusement.

Kivera approaches the parents and holds up a parchment that Aymeric had prepared for her.

“Sign it. Both of you.” To relinquish their parental status with Kiya.

“What if we don’t sign it?”

“Then I’ll just kill you both. That should work now shouldn’t it?” Her voice low and venomnous, green eyes a dark red, suggests they obey her command. They realize there is no way out of this without signatures, or their lives at risk. They sign the document, and watch as Kivera glances over to Lolorito the moment it is done.

“I quit!” Kivera announces loud to him, and starts storming off. Zenos was a bit disappointed it didn’t end in bloodshed, but he got entertainment out of it.

“Now this was a party.” He comments and motions for Wysteria to follow him to leave the place.

Kivera goes to let off steam by sitting at the edge of the dock that leads to the salt of The Lochs. She seethed quietly till she hears footsteps behind her. Thinking it was another person bent on challenging her, she whips around and loops the scythe around the man’s neck seeing it is Estinien.

“What do you want?” Estinien holds the spear between himself and the scythe. How she has such fast reflexes.

“Come to offer you a job seeing as you quit your previous wards. I think you would do nicely at the Fontaye house. You can do what you like there, and without consequences and free to go after Ilberd if he shows up again.” Kivera eyes him as her bargains with her.

“I might be interested.” She places the scythe down and eyes him weary still.

“I think you’ll enjoy the house.” Kivera follows him to go greet the miss. They stop at a delivery moogle to send the document she had signed on priority to House Fortemps. She sighs to herself knowing now Kiya is officially a free woman from this life, and hopes that Aymeric will make her happy.

Kivera stands before Shuri, wearing her best. A graceful bow and a wicked grin on her lips.

“I am Kivera. At your service.”

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miruka-cioccolata · 4 years

Text

well, that was a more popular one, thank you for requesting! I made it somewhat longer this time...hope you like it~

(under the cut for length)

Prosciutto:

It was meaningless to him. The woman clinging to him, her arms thrown across his neck and her mouth locked with his, shameless moans spilling from her cherry red lips...

Meaningless.

Just a quick distraction from a terribly stressful day at work, nothing more. There was no passion in his touches, certainly not comparable to that of the faceless woman whom he had picked up from under the red lights on the nightly street and taken to a shabby motel room.

Prosciutto had just wanted to forget the icky smell of blood on his hands, Pesci's incompetence that made his job an annoyance at times and the heavy weight of the gun in his pocket.

And yet...when Prosciutto reached across the girl lying next to him and to grab his phone from the nightstand, an abundance of messages from his lover waiting alone at home greeted him:

“Where are you?”, “Prosciutto, please tell me you are not hurt”,“Are you okay?”, “Please come home safe, tesoro, I miss you”.

Guilt about his foolish action suddenly came creeping on him and Prosciutto gritted his teeth while reading through all of his s/o's worried texts.

Risotto Nero:

Stressed out and tired, Risotto longed for some distraction. He was just starved from his s/o's touch. However, they were out today, exactly when he needed them the most. Normally, he isn't the type to fool around when he is in a relationship with a person he cares for, but no matter how stoic he appears, he too is only a man tempted to seek out different pleasures when his work becomes too much...

Surely, there is no harm giving in to a nameless woman who he paid for, right?

Instead of a quick distraction, his action leaves Risotto with a heavy sense of guilt. It hadn't been right to cheat on his beloved s/o behind their back...and he fears they might have caught onto something when they casually ask if he had tried out a new perfume...

Pesci:

He knew he shouldn't have gone out with Formaggio and Melone (Prosciutto had warned him numerous times about those two) and yet Pesci still agreed to join them, irritated by their teasing about him being such a lightweight when it came to alcohol.

Needless to say that Pesci had been right about his bad feeling, his two colleagues got him horribly drunk and involved in their antics with a bunch of girls.

The next morning he finds himself with a terrible headache and covered with hickeys.

Soon he remembers what happened yesterday and the graveness of his actions is enough to make him sick to the stomach. Even though he hadn't really been aware of it all, it still felt like cheating to him.

Pesci doesn't have it in him to lie to his s/o about his whereabouts, so when he returns home, he sits down together with his lover and tells them the whole story, looking more and more miserable the more he speaks.

“I'm so sorry...I know it's horrible and disgusting! C-can you please forgive me? Please?”

When his s/o takes his hands to calm him down, he cries and asks them for forgiveness even more, still feeling horrible about the whole ordeal.

Formaggio:

“Come on, Babe, I'm sorry! I really am!”

“How could you do that!? How could you kiss that little slut!?”

Formaggio's tries to calm his lover down with a hug are to no avail for they slap his arm away, glaring at him with tears in their eyes.

“Hey, it was a mistake, okay? I was a little more drunk than I should have been!”

“That's no excuse!”, his s/o shouts. Formaggio scratches his neck, his embarrassment about the whole situation weighing down on him visibly.

Flirting comes to him like a sport, so of course there is bound to be some fooling around in the club when he downs a couple more drinks than he probably should, but he certainly didn't expect his s/o to show right up in the same lounge and CERTAINLY NOT at the time when the woman he had heavily flirted with had decided to sit on his lap and leave some love bites on his neck.

By the time Formaggio and his s/o came home, all hell broke lose.

“You know what? It's over. I just...I can't live with someone who can't be faithful.”

The graveness of his actions hits him only now and Formaggio looks at his s/o in horror.

“Wait, what? Hold on, you don't mean that--”

“It's over, Formaggio. I'm getting my stuff tomorrow.”

With those words his s/o leaves, shutting the door behind them with a bang and leaving their boyfriend (well, ex-boyfriend) behind with his guilt filled thoughts.

Illuso:

It all started when Illuso's s/o accidentally spotted a strange hair on his shirt. Coupled with the whiff of a perfume not belonging to either him or his s/o and his new found tendency to stay out longer at night - much longer than usual - it soon dawned on Illuso's s/o that there was someone else their boyfriend was seeing.

...and they were right, Illuso really was cheating on his s/o behind their back.

One unfortunate night, his s/o caught him red-handed with a person they had never seen before but by the looks of it, Illuso and them were pretty close.

“I can't believe it...why did you cheat on me?”, they ask him, nearly on the verge of tears.

For once, Illuso lost his smugness and instead throws his s/o a horrified look as he pulls himself away from his fling.

“W-what are you doing here? Were you spying on me?”

“I had a suspicion that you were cheating on me...I just didn't think you really would...”

This was drifting in a horrible direction and Illuso grabbed his s/o by their shoulder, caressing their cheek.

“It's not what it looks like, I only love you!”

“Really? It doesn't look that way...”

Illuso only realizes the damage his cheating had done when he noticed his s/o's packed bags in the doorway the next morning...

Melone:

With the particular mechanism of Melone's Stand, it's no wonder that his s/o is suspicious of each and every woman he eyes, but Melone always assures that no, he is simply looking for potential mothers for Babyface, nothing more. It is part of his job after all.

However, making out with them on the sofa certainly isn't.

Once he heard a strange whimper, Melone looked up from his fling, eyes widening in shock when he saw who exactly it was that stood in their shared flat's living room. His s/o was pressing a hand to their mouth to keep themself from wailing while tears ran down their cheeks.

“You said you would come home later...?”, Melone asked, still a little out of breath.

“I sent you a text that it wouldn't take me so long today...is this what you always do when I come home later?”, they whisper shakily.

Melone berates himself for not checking his phone and reaches out for his s/o. Seeing them so heartbroken, so disappointed in him, it manages to make Melone's chest heavy filled with guilt and shame.

“Listen, love, I can explai-”

“Everyone told me I shouldn't trust you and they were right. You're nothing but a dirty cheater.”

Before Melone has the time to apologize to his s/o, they already stormed out of the door.

Ghiaccio:

“What's wrong? Your lover waiting at home or somethin'?”

The truth of the hooker's teasing words make Ghiaccio gulp. Yes, he had someone waiting at home for him, someone very dear to his heart. Someone, who he also had a nasty fight with just a few hours ago.

It wasn't uncommon for them to have fights, sure, but this one in particular made Ghiaccio just leave their shared apartment in a fit of rage, shouting curses into the night air while aimlessly driving around in his car until it ran out of gas.

He didn't know why or how that scantly clad woman found him, but she was there, leaning on the open window, using her huge, fake-looking breasts as a cushion and smiling at him.

When she asked him if he was in need of her services, Ghiaccio bit down an angry retort and instead thought for a second.

Ever since he had started dating his s/o, he had remained faithful to them, but now after that fight, his emotions still ran wild and all this tension was just unbearable to him.

So, instead of driving her away like he would with a stray cat, he simply asked: “How much?”

Somewhere in the back of his head he knew it was wrong and that he would regret it later, but for now he needed to release some of his anger.

“Shut up, I paid your mouth to do different things than talk shit.”

#la squadra di esecuzione #jojo's bizarre adventure #risotto nero #prosciutto #ghiaccio #melone #illuso #formaggio #pesci #hitman team #jjba part 5 #vento aureo #golden wind #jjba #jjba headcanons #jjba writing #request #anon #cheating headcanons

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maruzzewrites · 4 years

Text

Every breath you take. - 4

You never got the time or the possibility to recover from your last visit. When you woke up the next day, you found messages on your phone of unknown numbers, but you replied exclusively to the one you supposed was sent to you by Risotto with the date of your next workday. He never replied back, and you were grateful as you meekly asked your fiance how one would go ahead and delete some messages from your phone. He looks at you with a strange glint in his eyes, but gave you instructions nevertheless. You didn’t know how to behave now that they got your phone number, your phone was brand new and getting something else would infuriate your parents. You weren’t really well versed in electronics either and you really wanted to avoid your loved ones being involved in this ordeal.

You just stewed in your own worries during the days you were supposed to enjoy before stepping inside that building again. But the newfound knowledge of their interest, of their odd fascination with you, made you jumpier and more nervous than usual. You refused to meet with your friends and your darling, pointing to your need for some alone time and relaxation. Your fiance couldn’t really understand the root of your change and you could see and hear he was starting to grow suspicious of something. Of what, you have no idea, but he did come by your house uninvited with the pretense of paying a little visit to his in-laws and his beloved.

He would hover around you and glance over your shoulder as you picked up your phone to check the time. You didn’t know what he was doing, but decided to question him. You really didn’t have the energy to deal with other stress and your mind was occupied with thoughts of impeding doom and creepy men lurking and observing you at every corner. When you did confront him, later that evening, he just stuttered his words and babbled about you acting weird. At the sight of your tired face, he sighed and admitted he may have got the tiniest bit insecure. Not wanting to meet with him was a big deal and since he talked to you about his intention to support you during your studies, you got more and more distant.

“Oh.” Your tone was worn-out, but not flat. You really were getting rusty with noticing other people’s emotions and you felt insanely bad at the idea of your dear fiance worrying about you losing interest in him. You just scooted closer to him, rested your head on his shoulder and inhaled deeply. You reassured him; you did love him, you did want that future to be with him. You just had too much to think about these days and you didn’t want to dump all your worries, your moody swings onto him. He kept silent for a few moments before sighing and apologizing; he said he knew it would be good for your relationship if he didn’t voice his doubts, you were supposed to be a team after all.

In the overwhelming yet gentle atmosphere that built up in that intimate hug, you felt your shoulders relax and give in slowly. You felt days, weeks and even months’ worth of stress drip down your skin and leave your body, the warmth and smell of your fiance enough to lure you into a sleepy haze. Just when you were letting yourself falling asleep on his shoulder, you heard the loud ring of your phone and jumped out his arms just when he shot up from the surprise as well. Confused, you reached for the device and checked the screen.

“I don’t know who it is,” you stated, your voice low and concerned. You turned to your fiance and he simply gave you a shrug, looking over the screen to see if he could recognize the number. When you two established that you didn’t know who was calling you, you left the phone ring until it stopped a minute after. You exhaled with relief washing over your body and was about to ask your sweetheart if he wanted to get out for some fresh air when the phone started to ring again. You grimaced and he noticed your tension, your muscles strained and eyes narrowed to the point he could hardly see them. He gave the phone a quick glance, noticed it was the same number as before and suggested that maybe it was important. At your silence, he showed all his worry.

“Let me answer,” he didn’t phrase it as a question or a request, but as a statement. You looked at him just for a second before handing him the phone. Maybe you should have considered your options better and simply told him it was probably some prankster, but your anxiety got the better of you and the possibility of someone else dealing with the weight of that burden was nothing but a sweet and soothing promise. You observed as he pressed a key and brought the phone to his ear, greeting whoever was on the other side. There was silence for a slow second before you could hear a deep voice replying back from the speaker of the cellphone. You rested your head on your fiance’s chest, embracing him, as guilt started to mount inside of you: you could recognize Risotto’s tone of voice. In your new position, you could make out the words spoke by both of them.

“Yes, this is [Y/n]’s phone,” he replied, and you choked on a sob. He glanced at you, but you didn’t elaborate on the reason you were suddenly scared of his words. You never, ever gave your first name to those men, yet they seemed to know it. Or your fiance just outed your identity to those demented mobsters. In any case you couldn’t really stomach the thought of even one of them calling you by your actual name.

“And who is this?” You heard Risotto’s question and the heavy implication behind his words. Your fiance was mostly unaware of what he was facing for you, but you felt his arms tighter around your body as he heard the menacing note in the other man’s voice.

“I’m their fiance,” his answer was followed by silence. The lack of noise besides your breathing, which picked up at some point in the conversation, made your chest hurt and your stomach feel heavy. You were so close to just snatching your phone back and deal with the possibility of your fiance thinking you were hiding something from him, until you could keep that world away from him. Your body was frozen though, your muscle stiff with fear and the bile collecting in your throat was threatening to spill out. “Any who are you?” Your never felt closer to puking than when you heard your darling’s harsh tone in that moment.

“I’m Risotto Nero,” you noticed how your fiance was holding back a bark of laughter at the mention of the mobster’s name. He then casted his eyes to you and raised an eyebrow, silently asking if you knew anyone with that name. You looked away and then nodded when you met his eyes again. Your seemingly demure reaction made him all the more wary, but the light in his eyes told you he wasn’t mad at you. “They are supposed to come by tomorrow. I need to speak to them.”

Realization dawned over your fiance and he frowned deeply. He told the man you were busy, he could take and deliver his message to you without problems. He slapped away your hands when you tried to pick your phone from his grip, a gesture that surprised you and then you pleaded softly for him to hand you the device. You hoped your voice was low enough not to be heard by Risotto, but you picked up voice when he declared to your sweetheart to pass the phone just like you asked. Your fiance shot you a glare, but his face softened when he saw just how on edge you were.

He gently caressed your cheek before handing the phone to you. You brought it to your ear and listened to the calmer words of the man you were supposed to face the next day; he was requesting various services you usually didn’t perform and had your shiver down your spine. It would take you a bit more time than usual to finish your job, you contemplated, and you closed the call with a small, defeated voice getting out of you. You almost forgot your fiance was right besides you until you felt his hand on your back, a sweet call to hug him to find some kind of comfort.

“Tomorrow, I’m coming with you.” The resolution in his voice, as well as his eyes, didn’t allow you to counter his declaration.

You found yourself, the following morning, in your fiance’s car. Heading to that house with him near you seemed like a fairytale until you caught a glimpse of the roof of the building in the distance and images of those men’s actions flooded your brain. You started to stay quiet and answering more sporadically to the man in the driver seat as you approached, and you told where to stop. You tried to convince him to park a few houses over, but you already told him the address and he was being stubborn about stopping right in front of the door. No one was driving on that street and you were sure you’d see barely any traffic for a while. It was a concept you never considered before, but now it was buzzing in your head and you couldn’t get it out. If they wanted to hurt the two of you, those guys could kick down that door and come for you right in that moment.

With your mind preoccupied with morbid ideas, you didn’t notice how your fiance was trying to get your attention. Your eyes were focused on the door, on the windows, on any opening that could lead those men out or let them spy on you while you were apprehensively seated in that car. Were they watching your right in that moment? The light didn’t allow you to look inside the house, you couldn’t make out silhouettes behind the glasses. The swirl of anxious thoughts heightened your senses and when you felt a kind hand on your shoulder, you nearly jumped out of your own skin. Holding your bag tight against your chest, you looked over to your companion.

“I will come to pick you up later, alright?” He asked and you nodded, grasping at the prospect of seeing your partner again that day to power through the hours you were supposed to spend there. You got closer to him, just enough to leave peck on his lips, before walking out the car and bending down to talk to him with the door still wide open. “If you finish early, we can go out. We haven’t had a date in a while.” You smiled at him and accepted his invitation with a brimming heart. He grinned back and said his goodbyes.

You stepped away from the car, closing the door, and watched him drive away. With the vehicle farther and farther away, you had the sudden realization that you lacked a mean to flee in case you were dealing with something dangerous today. You mentally tortured yourself, how could you be so dumb? In mist made of anxieties and fears fogging your brain, you didn’t think that the temporary comfort of your fiance’s presence couldn’t trump over your need to have an escape plan. You considered dialing your darling’s number and call your employer to let them know you were sick, you couldn’t possibly compromise the team’s health. But you were standing right in front of house and you were sure their eyes were already on you.

You sighed, breath wobbly just as much as your legs, and reached in your bag to fish one of the gifts you got last time. You didn’t touch anything until yesterday to dump everything on your desk and look over the objects given to you. You considered just throwing all of them in the trashcan, but you were sure they’d be curious over why you didn’t have them with you or if you were wearing them. Consequently, you elected to bear with the disgust of wearing one of them. You swallowed and looked over the headband in your hand, the only accessory you got that would make sense wear if you took in consideration the type of work you were supposed to do for them. You checked once more if your fiance’s car was in sight and then slide the headband over your head, keeping your hair away from your eyes.

With heavy steps, you walked to the door and opened it. You tiptoed inside and left your stuff at the same spot, hanging the coat this time. You kneeled to the ground and took out a small lock you got these days, closing it around the zipper of your bag in order to keep the contents safe from their prying hands. You got up and pocketed the little key, glancing down the hallway as you stood up once again. No one was in front of you, but you knew they would be around somewhere – not that you cared enough to look for them. You slowly stepped over the door of the kitchen, the closest room to the entrance, and glanced inside.

You didn’t see any mobster, but you could see the absolute mess that was the room. Your heart stopped for what seemed an eternity as you looked over the piles of plates, pots, glasses in the sink and the overflowing can of garbage resting just besides the fridge. You stalked to the counter and was nauseated to see how dirty it was. Opening the refrigerator, you were met with emptiness besides few ingredients that looked way too specific for not being placed intentionally by someone. You exhaled with frustration and whipped your head towards the table on the other side of the room. It wasn’t cleaned up, the sight making you grit your teeth.

You decided to give up on the kitchen and went to the living room. There you found the entire team, sitting in complete silence besides the low murmur of the television. They turned as soon as they say your moving shadow, some smirking up at you and some keeping a stoic face as they looked you up and down. Ghiaccio seemed the only one to flinch just barely, an arrogant grin splitting his lips soon after. As you noticed his attitude, you gave a quick glance at the other men in the room; some were searching your body for a sign of something they didn’t seem to find, some frowned at the sight of you after their initial grin fell, others seemed simply confused by your view. You squirmed under their eyes, pressing your legs so close to each other that you could feel them tremble and creak by the sheer pressure.

Ghiaccio stood up from his spot on the sofa, walking towards you under the scrutiny of his fellow teammates, all the while almost beaming. That smile, however, looked distorted and crooked in your eyes as he approached your frozen body and raised his hands to go at either side of your head. You squeezed your eyes shut and heard him grunt lightly, making you practically visualize his eyes rolling at you. You felt his fingers grab at the headband you were wearing, pulling the string and widening it a bit before letting it go gently, with the tips of your ears secured under the cloth. You held your breath the entire time and opened your eyes just when you felt his fingers brushing some hair behind your ears. He was so close, and you had to resist the urge to just shove him away.

“I knew this would suit your tastes,” he moved his head after speaking and regarded his colleagues with mockery in his voice. He sarcastically asked them what they thought about your new accessory, weren’t you just perfect like that? You didn’t have the bravery to look at them as they either grunted and whined or told him to shut up. Ghiaccio returned his attention to you. “Good choice.” His words made you almost gag, but you decided to raise your eyes and take into consideration the others before you started to week in front of the bespectacled man.

With horror, you noticed none of the gents in the room seemed to be too happy with the new development and you were so close to fainting by the intensity of their eyes that you didn’t know where or how you found the strength to step back from Ghiaccio, take a deep breath and start to speak hurriedly.

“I appreciated all your gifts,” you didn’t know what to add, what to say to make them stop looking at you like they wanted to set you on fire. You didn’t even know how you were blocking yourself from falling down on your knees and beg for them to stop, to leave you alone and stop whatever machismo-filled competition they thought they could take on you or whatever it was they were doing. But then you just averted your eyes and looked at the floor before speaking up again. “Thank you so much, I didn’t have time to reciprocate.” Before anyone could assure you that it wasn’t needed or that maybe there were ways you could return the favor, Formaggio broke the silence.

“What the fuck? You guys gave them gifts?” He sounded incredulous, almost as if he was outraged by his teammates’ gesture towards you. Illuso told him it wasn’t their fault if he was inconsiderate and idiotic enough to let the possibility pass him by. You could only stand still as the two of them started to argue, Formaggio’s yelling while Illuso was barely raising his voice to mock him. You could see Ghiaccio imperceptibly trembling before he whipped his entire body in their direction to scream at them, adding to the general chaos.

Melone’s complaining, directed to you, was soon added to the choir of voices. He ignored his teammates to whine directly to your face about your bare hands. He was getting close and went to grab your wrists to display your fingers fully, but Prosciutto stopped him just in time and regarded you with more annoyance than you were used to from him. He questioned you about the jewelry you found, if you liked it or if you preferred something else – fancier or more sober. He swore he understood that wearing expensive accessories during a cleaning job wasn’t ideal, but he was rather disappointed in seeing you pick another gift over his. Melone agreed with his words and you really, really wanted to make a run for the door right in that moment.

While Pesci and Risotto elected to stay back, with Risotto’s imposing body blocking the view of the window as he leaned on the sill, the others started to close up on you with various degrees of urgency. Illuso was almost calm, just inserting himself to generate some friction between the others; Ghiaccio shifted from complimenting you for the choice and yelling to the point of making you wince; Formaggio was promising he’d get you double the amount of gifts you got this time if you just gave him a list or something, he wasn’t that good with presents. Prosciutto was harshly telling the others to leave you be while taking the time to get closer to you, the ghost of his arm over your shoulders like an unwelcome promise, whilst was asking you if you would let him know if he got your finger size right.

You felt like you were suffocating and took a step back into the hallway, feeling the back of your head colliding with Prosciutto’s arm. He took your movement as an invite to finally rest his arm on your body in a motion mocking one of comfort. When you tried to move further back, you felt his fingers dig into your skin replacing a stern warning, so you just stood still and listened to their voices wash over you like tides. Couldn’t they get that you were anxious? Wasn’t it evident? Did they just not care enough, would they subject someone to their incessant attentions? Talk about taking a mile; you were practically slipping and on the verge of collapsing whereas they were trying to prevail and metaphorically (or literally, you didn’t think they minded) get their claws all over you.

Your afflictions were interrupted by Risotto approaching silently. When some of the men caught and followed your frightened gaze to his figure, they stopped talking and some even stepped aside to allow their boss easier access to your personal space. You felt Prosciutto tense around you, his hand sliding across your back, leaving a trail of shivers and coldness in its wake, but without letting you go completely. When his steps came to a halt, Risotto wasn’t standing in front of you, rather he was at your side. He was still towering over you with an impassible look, those pitch-black eyes boring into yours.

Quickly yet steadily, he took hold of Prosciutto’s hand and lifted it from where it was resting, right on your shoulder blade. His grip must have been pretty loose taking into account how effortlessly Prosciutto dropped his arm, despite the earnestness to do so. The stillness of the room now that Risotto intruded in the scene was as nerve-wracking as the previous turmoil, with the added bonus of the boss of a mob group hovering over you. You didn’t have enough courage inside you to maintain eye contact with him, opting to avert your eyes and fixing all your attention to the ground.

“You didn’t come alone today,” his voice rumbled low and you jumped, scared. You initially shook your head, deciding only after a while to use your voice and confirm you were escorted this time. Maybe you should have lied, but you were sure it would have made things worse; Melone and Ghiaccio’s faces lightened up simultaneously and they abruptly offered you to drive you home after your were done with cleaning, Melone with clear enthusiasm while Ghiaccio stayed calmer yet smugger in his proposing. You stalled for a good minute, which made Melone repeat his offer and Ghiaccio bark out to give him an answer right away. Then Risotto voice silenced the both of them. “I’m sure they won’t be left alone. Or so was their intention.”

It unnerved you how he spoke in definitive statements, like he could read you and your apprehension without effort. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye and noticed how he was still single-mindedly watching at you. As soon as your eyes locked together, he latched onto that eye contact like a leech and made you afraid to turn away again with the simple intensity of his stare. There was a flash of a smirk, gone as soon as it came. “You have much to do. Let’s hope you can finish in time.” With his final words, he was gone.

He walked past you and you followed him with your eyes, up the stairs until he disappeared. You didn’t hear his footsteps on the upper floor, but you heard the click of his office’s door. For a moment you completely forget about all the other men breathing down your neck, but you were quickly brought back to your current situation when you heard Prosciutto clear his throat. You whipped your head and were faced with confused, somewhat exasperated faces. You were panicking once again and, against every fiber of your body, wished their boss would be back just to shield you from their gazes. You asked them if they had anything special for you to do today. Prosciutto smacked Melone on the back of his head as soon as he opened his mouth.

After hearing some of them – Prosciutto needed help with his suits, Illuso wanted you to take care of the mirrors a bit more, Formaggio’s drawers were brought up by Ghiaccio because of the stink. You just smiled unsure and listened to all of it before walking away as soon as they were done.

If you were surprised earlier about the state of the kitchen, you jaw dropped when you took in the situation in the bathrooms and the bedrooms. If an earthquake came and swallowed the house, you’d have less to do: clothes, beauty products, hair, piles of plastic plates and anything else that could be thrown on a floor, were there; the beds were obviously messed up beyond normal use, some had the blankets all the way to the floor, some pillows covered in hair. The bathrooms were foggy, visibly sticky and damp from recent use, with little care to put away brushes, hairdryers or bottles. When you checked the trashcan by the toilet on the upper floor, you found tissues of questionable nature and were grateful you didn’t have anything in your stomach in that moment.

For the entire day, everyone under that roof tried to lure you away from your duties, adding task after task to your workload. Some were harmless enough, but other requests made you close to punch the man in front of you in the teeth. Prosciutto looked you over when you were carefully dealing with his suits, eyeing the expensive brands on their tags, when he grabbed a jacket from your hands and draped it over you shoulders; he pressed the cloth to your skin, moving your head from side to side, before humming approvingly and letting you continue with your job. You didn’t see him all day after that. Melone was following you around, enduring in pestering you about his offer to escort you home with his motorbike, until he dragged you to their garage to show it off and then ask you to clean it under his supervision when you didn’t seem to impressed by the vehicle. Ghiaccio came between the two of you with car keys in his hand and the demand to follow him on his lips, followed by the order to sit down in the passenger seat to try it out.

When you went to dust off the mirror in one of the bathrooms, you felt like you could see Illuso’s reflection staring back at you and almost cried as you turned around to recompose yourself. You freaked out, much to Illuso’s enjoyment, when you felt a hand on your back, and he asked you if you were done with the bathroom because he has to use it. You slammed the door on your way out, eliciting a bark of laughter from the man behind the door. Pesci was quiet most of the day, staying in the living room and keeping silent while you were busy vacuuming, and you were so grateful for his timid demeanor. He just muttered to you to question if you liked the chocolate he left you, with you giving an answer with an unsteady smile about your appreciation, a void and cordial statement. He got up after that, heading upstairs and coming back few minutes later to hand you some more sweets. You smiled again and bit down on a piece, a row of pearly whites offered to him with hope he won’t pressure you past that. Formaggio decided to sit on the countertop while you slaved away in the kitchen, altering between enquiries about what you’d like as a gift and jokes about how adorable you looked with rubber gloves and dark circles, observing you scrubbing pots. You weren’t sure he understood the concept of compliments.

In spite of all the distractions and all their attempts to make you stay overtime to finish, you managed to complete your job in time, toeing the deadline you decided with your fiance. You collected your things as relief washed over you, waving at whoever you met on your way to the entrance. Out of the door in no time, you stood as close to the road as you could without risking being run over. You waited and waited, occupying yourself with removing the lock on your bag and taking off the headband, throwing glances in the direction of the street to see if your fiance was arriving. You fished you phone and checked the time; it was quickly ticking away, but seconds almost stopped when half an hour passed without seeing your darling.

You peeked over your shoulders to verify if you were alone so you could take a call and be sure your partner was coming. You noticed that the door was closed, but with the shifting of the sun, the shadows at the windows were pretty visible. You trembled and your fingers clenched around your phone, trailing your eyes to the outline of the city in the horizon. Due to nerves, you almost threw your phone when it ringed and vibrated between your finger. You didn’t even check the number of the display, you just brought the device to your ear and sighed with relief at the sound of your fiance’s voice.

“Where are you?” You tried to hide the fear in your voice, crush any type of worry so that you could reassure him that you were fine and he could simply drive here, pick you up and you’d deal with your emotions in the intimacy of your house. You understood you failed in your intent when he apologized with more emphasis than necessary.

“I’m sorry, I really am,” you heart sunk at his words, the deep chagrin that his words carried didn’t help your aching mind to relax when you heard the door behind you open. You turned around as you listened to your fiance tell you how his car broke down when he tried to start it earlier. You didn’t even check to see if cars were coming, you just retreated to the other side of the road while keeping your eyes on Risotto, now standing on the doorway. Your fiance continued to address his inability to come and pick you up, but he was still up to hang out this evening. You hung up after hastily saying goodbye. You dialed your father too, but he was busy at work; your mother didn’t have a license. Your friends were all busy or didn’t own a phone.

You raised your eyes to see Risotto still at the door, then turned towards Naples. It was at least an hour on foot just to reach the edge of the city, but you could do it. You’d prefer the pain in your legs than staying in a car or on a bike with any of those men. As you were seriously considering starting to walk, Risotto called out for you and you regarded him with shock at how quickly and silently he approached you. Standing a few meters from you, looking down, he was smirking in an attempt to seem friendly. Or maybe he was really mocking you.

“No one can come,” you supposed it was a question, but the inflection of his voice didn’t make it sound so. His low voice, the finality of his phrasing, made you shiver, and a cold feeling reached your bones to poison you from the inside. You were sure you would die, if not by his hands, by the sheer terror that was snaking up your soul. “We can drive you. I will come too, I won’t leave you alone.” Maybe he meant to be reassuring, that you won’t be alone with one of him men to do whatever they wanted with you. But you just hated, loathed the constant threat of refusing them. He gave you the choice between the two vehicles they had, and you thanked whatever god was taking pity on you that you at least saw them earlier.

Accordingly, you found yourself in the passenger seat of Ghiaccio’s car as you were escorted to your house. You opted to take the car, to Melone’s displeasure, after some considerations: the street to your apartment was narrow, steep, and a car wouldn’t fit in any way. If Melone was the one bringing you home, he could argue that it was not problem to drop you right in front of your door and you really, really, really wanted to avoid them knowing your exact address. With Ghiaccio’s car, you could make him park somewhere far away and decide to walk home the remaining distance, no matter the time it would take. And more, it allowed you to stay as far away from both Ghiaccio and Risotto, despite their lack of seatbelts.

The drive was painfully, but thankfully, silent. You kept your eyes in front of you, following the street so that you could protest any turn you didn’t like. Luckily, Ghiaccio didn’t seem to steer away from the route you gave him and Risotto didn’t chime in to give him different instructions. You just sat with tensed muscles, with your bag clutched in your arms and pressed on your chest. When you got to a crowded plaza, not too distant from your destination, you told Ghiaccio to stop and he did so without second thoughts. You thanked both of them for the ride, but you were simply met with aloof faces and goodbyes. They didn’t seem to be moving when you stepped away, so you dived into a cafe shop nearby and waited by the storefront to observe them. Some time later, you saw Prosciutto approach the car and get in. The car was therefore started and the three of them drove away.

You waited around ten minutes before paying for the coffee you bought to pass the time and started to walk with lighter steps towards your home. When you got there, you called your fiance and set the time for your date. You got ready and enjoyed a casual, carefree evening with him. The tension melted away and you could only fill your mind with happy memories to ward off the nightmare you were living. When you laid in your bed later that night, you slept peacefully for the first time in a few days.

The next day, your mother asked you to go grocery shopping and you considered the long walk and late hours of the day before were enough for your poor legs. You took your car keys and went to open the door. You froze when you noticed it wasn’t locked and wondered if you were truly dumb enough to leave the door open all day. Peering inside, you saw a package sitting right on the driver seat with a neat note on top of it, reading a simple ‘I already know’ in hurried yet confident handwriting.

You decided to walk, after all.

#jjba #jojo's bizzare adventure #risotto #prosciutto #formaggio #melone #pesci #illuso #ghiaccio #yandere #reader insert #listen...... here it goes....... it's creepy #i will do the prompts i got in me inbox next so yay

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buns-with-a-book · 4 years

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Holding

Because nothing is more wholesome than hand holding.

Fandom: Devil May Cry Characters: Vergil/OC, V/OC, Platonic Dante/OC Tags: @nimnox @furyeclipse @synchronmurmurs

Summary: Two times Cassandra held Vergil’s hands and the time he holds hers.

“And get outta here, you fuckin’ bampot!” Cassandra snarled, slicing at the last of the demons. What responded to her was a raspy death rattle, the demon collapsing before her. Cassandra let Astra snap out of existence, panting and smiling as what lay before her were smears of demon blood. Her patrols around Red Grave City had made her see more demonic activity, something that she told Dante. She voiced concern that something big was going to happen soon, if demonic activity was starting to pick up.

A raspy breath caught her attention. It didn’t sound demonic, no, it sounded so very human. She whipped around.

“Hey! If you’re hurt, better make yourself known!” She called, following the wheezing breath. The sound led her to a man, covered by a tattered brown cloak. That raspy low breathing worried her. She knelt down, still a small distance away from him. The man glanced to her, she noticed a familiar pair of strikingly familiar blue eyes hiding under the cloak.

“Go away.” The man growled, an attempt to intimidate. Cassandra looked to his hands.

“You’re hurt.”

“I will be fine.”

“Please, let me help.” She held out her hands. The man stared at them, she could see him debate with himself without even looking at his eyes.

“Very well, if you’re going to be persistent about it.” There was a tinge of bitterness in his voice, as if he regarded her more of a nuisance he had to deal with in the moment that would not last. It was something she was used to.

“Just hold out your hands, I’ll handle the rest.” She said, moving closer to him. The stranger, hesitantly, held out his hands. She noticed the fingerless gloves but said nothing about removing them. Some people had gloves for reasons, like Dante, and she worked around them to give her healing just fine. Now, with a closer look at his face, she realized the extent of his state. His body was cracked, as if inches away from falling apart. Her thumbs carefully grazed exposed skin, her eyes fluttering closed. A faint aura swirled at their connected hands, the Crest doing it’s work. She frowned a little at the resistance her magic met, as if his state was a result of something far more devastating that she could ever fathom.

“It hurts.” His dry voice broke her out of her thoughts.

“Healing always hurts.” Cassandra replied simply. “That means it’s working.” She ignored the dismissive snort she received from him. After a few minutes, she pulled back her hands. “I wish I could do more, but I’m afraid there’s only so much I can do for you.” She couldn’t describe his state, a sense of brokenness that reached deep into his soul. He stood up.

“I will take my leave.” He whispered. She quickly got up.

“Wait!” He stopped. “Can I have your name?” A quiet fell between them. “I’m Cassandra, by the way.” He glanced back to her from under the hood of his cloak.

“I have to go.” Cassandra frowned at his curt words.

“Very well. Take care, stranger. Red Grave City is hardly safe at night.” She nodded, watching him walk away. Something about him told her that they would meet again.

---

“V, just sit down for a moment.” Cassandra huffed, easing him to a gnarled portion of tree.

“I can-”

“Don’t ‘I cannot rest’ me, mister.” Her grip tightened on the black-clad poet. “You’re crumbling apart before my very eyes. If you want to have a hope of getting to Urizen before Dante or Nero do, then you need to be as strong as possible.” Her gaze moved down to his hands. Her heart ached seeing the state of them, crumbling and turning to dust before her eyes. V had so little time left...she pushed the thought out of her head. She closed her eyes, letting the familiar healing power of the Crest of Saint Julia move through her hands into V’s. A familiar sensation met her, of a soul so broken it hurt her as well. She wasn’t sure if it was from the foul pulsations of the Qliphoth tree hindering the effectiveness of her Crest or how far deep the slow decay of V’s very body was.

V took back his hands, taking hers instead. She looked up, the Crest fading.

“Cassandra.” V began, voice soft. “Save your strength. If you expend your energy trying to heal me, you will not have what is needed to stop Urizen.”

“Neither will you.” She retorted before immediately regretting it. She had spent the past month fighting demons in an uprooted Red Grave City, saving those who could be saved, giving the final rites to those that didn’t make it, all of it with V. And now, seeing him crumble away into dust, like the very dust that came from Qliphoth roots when the pulsating tumor, the storage of all that blood, burst and deprived them of their life…her mind was in a tumultuous state of protectiveness and anxiety. She looked to V, seeing his gaze was still on their entwined hands.

“I must admit...when all of this is done, will you still think fondly of me?” She blinked in confusion.

“Why do you ask that?”

“I…” His grip tightened on her hands. “I am not who I seem, Cassandra.”

“Then who are you, really?” His eyes seemed distant.

“When we defeat Urizen, I will tell you everything. I promise.” He said, slowly getting up. Cassandra quickly got up, Astra snapping back into existence.

“You keep saying that. It better be worth it, Mr. Poetry.” V chuckled a little.

“Dante’s rubbed off on you.”

“The moment he figures out how to get his mouth around Gaelic, everyone in Devil May Cry is doomed. He wants to know all the swears.” Cassandra chuckled, feeling her spirit lift a little.

“Well, I suppose you cannot let that happen, can you?”

“Oh no. I’m only gonna teach him how to embarrass himself.” She paused. “Provided he doesn’t embarrass himself by mispronouncing what I taught him.”

“I pray I see that myself one day.” V chuckled at the thought. “But, for now, we have wasted enough time. We must press on.” Cassandra let out a sigh.

“Deeper into the vampiric hell tree we go.” She hoped all of this was worth it.

--- Cassandra hummed softly into the air, listening to the jukebox. It had been six months since Dante and Vergil disappeared, to the Underworld to end the Qliphoth tree at its roots according to Nero. He got a new arm from the whole ordeal, which was good. She figured. It was still weird.

But life still went on, even without the brothers around. As of the hour, Lady and Trish were busy on missions of their own, leaving her to man the fort that was the shop. She had spent the first few solo mannings cleaning up the shop to make it far more presentable for anybody coming into the front door. As weeks passed into months, Cassandra found herself missing the two brothers. Dante, of course, was the man she had adopted as the big brother she never had. As for Vergil, the enigmatic elder brother to Dante, she wondered how much of him was V and how much was Vergil himself. She closed her eyes, remembering the first time she met him. It wasn’t him as V, she knew that. Those smoldering ice blue eyes, she had seen them before. She had met him before the Qliphoth tree burst from the ground, crumbling apart as he hid from the demons that she slew.

Just like when he was V.

Cassandra looked to the pictures on the desk. The portrait of the woman she had come to know as Dante’s mother remained, her painted gaze staring back at her. Next to the portrait was a picture of the crew; her, Dante, Lady, Trish, and Nero. Cassandra smiled at the sight, taken well before the tree uprooted the city. Nero still had his demonic arm, a strange sight at the time but she hardly questioned anyone Dante trusted. She looked to the newspaper that was laid upon her desk, detailing the reconstruction efforts the city was going through to recover from the demonic attack. She folded up the newspaper and set it aside, just as the jukebox stopped it’s track. She sighed and got up, walking over to pick a new song. She heard the door open.

“Devil May Cr-” She stood up, turning to greet whoever came in, but stopped in her tracks. Dante grinned widely as he entered, as if nothing had changed, with Vergil silently trailing behind her.

“Cass!” He said cheerfully. She just stood there, half expecting the two to just disappear. “What, did you miss my mug that bad?”

“Dante you fucking loon!” She snapped. “Making your sister worry like that for six months, you’re gonna regret the demons not kicking your ass sooner!” She stormed over. Before Dante could stop her, she hooked her arms around the twins, holding them close. “I fucking missed you, you crazy son of a bitch.” Dante grinned, ruffling her hair.

“Cass, I couldn’t understand half of what you were saying.”

“Oh, piss off.” She squeezed the two. “Just wait until Lady and Trish return. They’re steamed you gave the deed to the place to Morrison.” She looked at the two. “Fuck, you’re covered in demon gore.” Dante rubbed the back of his neck.

“We...we kinda just came back from the Underworld.” He said, his voice a little sheepish. Cassandra let out a sigh and stepped back.

“Get your ass in the shower Dante. Me and the girls have been keeping the place running with paying the bills.” Dante perked up at the idea of hot water and promptly went upstairs. She looked to Vergil, who was still. His eyes were closed, as if he was remembering something. “Vergil?”

“I have not heard you that mad since you fought Urizen in the depths of the tree.” He said. Cassandra could hear a hint of pain at the memory. She knew she had screamed curses and swears at Urizen, mostly for uprooting the tree and making her life hell for the month it stood.

“I can only imagine how unintelligible I was in the moment. I slip back into my native Gaelic when I’m pissed, according to Dante.”

“Certainly not angry enough to do so in the moment.” Vergil nodded.

“There’s two showers. One downstairs and one upstairs, if you need it.” She looked up and down Vergil. He certainly wasn’t as gore covered as Dante was (the rush of emotions made her ignore that to finally hug him again) but there were certainly splatters of demon blood on him. Even after the offer, he remained still.

“Cassandra. Do you remember what I asked you, in the depths of the Qliphoth tree?” She blinked, confused at his question.

“I...hm…” She thought about it. “If I recall correctly, you asked if I would still be fond of you after everything that’s happened.” He nodded. “Well.” She clapped her hands together. “Your actions, however unintentional, harmed not only Dante and Nero, but thrust Lady and Trish into harm’s way, as well as myself.” Vergil remained stoic, watching her carefully. “However, you also tried to mitigate the damage onto the populace of Red Grave City from the tree’s hunger as V.” She paused.

“If you are just going to throw my failures at me, I will take my leave.”

“Hold on. There’s a point I’m getting to here.” She said. “Obviously, Dante thinks there’s some good in you, because I doubt he would’ve come here so casually with you in tow.” She took his hands, staring at them. “Neither does Nero, so willing to throw himself from the van to pursue you. And you stand here, so he holds something akin to fondness.” She glanced up at Vergil, still giving her a cold look, as if waiting for her to finally make her point. “I’m going to give you a chance Vergil. Dante has, Nero has, so I shall as well.” Her hand carefully slipped into Vergil’s, grip loose to let him pull away as he wished. “On one condition.”

“What.”

“Spar with me.” Cassandra could feel his hand twitch and smiled knowingly. “Not now. Sparring you in the state you’re in, it won’t be worth it.” She pulled back her hand. “Rest, regain your strength, Vergil. After that, then we’ll begin.” There was a simmering fire in his blue eyes, as if she prodded something deep within him. Perhaps, as the older brother, being challenged like this was not something he took in stride, especially when he was told to wait beforehand.

Whatever he had to say died in his throat as Dante strode out of the shower. Cassandra was silently thankful he had enough sense to have pants on.

“Cass, you are a lifesaver.” He said cheerfully.

“Don’t thank me Dante. Thank Trish and Lady, provided they don’t skewer you for being gone for so long.” Cassandra pulled away from Vergil as he spoke, leaving him there. “You want pizza? I haven’t ordered pizza since you left. I’ll pay.”

“YES!” He did a fistbump. “I missed pizza so much.” Cassandra laughed at his enthusiasm for pizza. As he walked back down the stairs, getting into a conversation with Vergil to urge him to clean up, Cassandra relished the sense of familiarity that came with him. After she ordered the pizzas for Dante to chow down on, splurging just a little just for his return, she went to the jukebox to play one of Dante’s favorite songs.

And nothing sounded better than that song wafting through the warm air of Devil May Cry.

#devil may cry 5 #devil may cry oc #dmc vergil #dmc dante #dmc v #devil may cry

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imagethat · 5 years

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Home | Vergil x Kitsune!Reader Part 3

One person asked for this so you know I had to do it to 'em. I'm still having trouble finding a balanced way to write Vergil but I really enjoy writing for this series thing.

The white blanket that covered Red Grave was growing thicker. Winter seemed like it'd never let up as you got dressed for the weather. You agreed last night to go with Vergil today. Where, you had no clue. But after your previous realization, it didn't matter much. To be in the presence of the one you'd grown fond of was enough. Vergil was waiting for you by the door dressed in his usual attire by the time you were ready. The streets were empty, no footprints lining the sidewalk beside yours. The desolation was nice. You followed Vergil closely, getting the feeling that something important was about to happen. So you didn't dare speak. You could tell he needed the silence. His pace began to get slower as you came upon a part of the city that had not recovered from the Quipoths reign. The structure of an old building atop a hill came into view. Time had not treated it kindly. Vergil paused at what would've been the entryway before stepping in. Only the walls truly remained, a painting of a family still hung up, unprotected to the weather. You could tell who the man was. Sparda… You had heard of him during your studies, but your kind kept out of the ordeal that went down all those years ago. The woman in the painting was beautiful, but something about her made you sad. You could tell Vergil felt the same. This place held significance to him. You were grateful he brought you here. He hadn't moved since you entered and seemed submerged in his thoughts. His eyes were clouded. Carefully, you brushed your knuckles against his. The small touch was enough to pull him back to reality. "That's… My father." He finally broke the silence that had followed you here. You stood there stunned. Was the man beside you really a Son of Sparda? You had never realised it. Part of you was embarrassed, how foolish of you to not realize during your first encounter with him. No wonder he had defeated you. You slowly began putting the pieces together. This was a family painting… The fate you had heard about from your parents, the one they used to reaffirm their belief that humans and demons could never love one another…. In the past you would've cold heartedly said they deserved their fate. But now you weren't so sure. "Vergil?" You questioned softly, seeing how down cast his eyes were. He didn't like looking at the painting, you could tell why. "My brother and I weren't always on good terms… I had something inside me that always hated him." He admitted. "Anger, sadness… fear…" He seemed to linger on the last word. "But… We've reconciled. I'm grateful for the second chance I've been given." He was trying his best to convey his feelings, and even though he was struggling, you could tell what kind of hope he was trying to impress upon you. "That may be true in your case, but it's not the same for me." You replied quietly while tracing the leather on your hand. After a good amount of time in silence once more, you timidly gazed up at Vergil. His eyes were trained on the painting. You couldn't tell what he was thinking. "When we fought… You had asked me what power was, if not to protect. That strength and satisfaction was something measured." You mused, choosing your words carefully. You hadn't thought of it, but the reason he gave you a second chance was possibly because he saw something inside of you that had reminded him of himself. "If that's true then… Have you found something that makes you feel satisfied? Have you found something worth protecting?" You asked, trying to find any way to connect to him in this moment. Wanting to know what had changed his view of the world. Wondering if it could change yours too. He breathed in deeply. "I suppose I have." He admitted while gazing down at you. You fidgeted with your fingers, wanting to ask what. "Most of all though, I just think I've matured." He added while returning his gaze to the painting. You took a step closer and placed a hand on his back. "I think your parents would've been proud of you, if they could see you now." You said. He opened his mouth to reply before closing it as his face turned grief stricken, unsure of how to respond. "I know that I'm glad I met you. I think if I hadn't, I would've still been the same person I was when we met. Unaware and unhappy, without the knowledge of how to change for the better… Dante doesn't say it much but… I know he likes having you around as his brother… Even Nero..." He seemed pained by the last name. You knew he felt guilt for everything between him and Dante, but learning he failed Nero after coming out of his power hungry phase hurt most. Vergil shrugged your hand off his back with a grimace. "We cannot change the past." Vergil coldly replied, starting to return to his old ways of blocking others out. You raised your leather bound hand to your chest, both to feel your heartbeat and keep the ornament close. "Yeah…" You admitted softly, the events of yesterday still weighing heavily on your shoulders. Vergil sensed the dip in your tone. "We should leave." He said, satisfied now after showing you his old home. "Would you go on ahead, I'd like a moment alone." You almost whispered. The way you kept your head down to avoid Vergil's gaze bothered him but he agreed. "Alright… I'll be waiting not too far." He replied before leaving you on your own. Once you were sure he was gone, you turned your eyes up to the painting. Honoring the dead was part of your inherited traditions, this was no different. As an offering, you took off the pendant that lined your neck and placed it on the mantel. Fireplaces are a symbol of warmth, survival, protection from outside dangers, and family. You knelt down, even in the snow, to pay your respects to the two parents who had brought such wonderful people into the world. You told them of how much their sons missed them, of their sons glory, and of how much you wished you could have met them. After you were done doing so, you carefully hid well placed hexes to protect this place from the weather, and any other dangers it may face. You thanked the building for still remaining, even through the hardships it had endured. After everything was said and done, you gave one final look over your shoulder before joining Vergil. He didn't ask you any questions. You were still doleful, but you appreciated Vergil taking you to his former home despite how vulnerable it must have made him feel. Somehow a small part of you felt better. You felt closer to Vergil too, even though he was still the stern faced man he always was. Absentmindedly you raised your leather bound hand to your heart as you two walked in the snow. Vergil wasn't quite ready to return to Devil May Cry yet so the two of you walked around the city until you found an open coffee shop. The warmth felt fantastic, but you knew your clothes would remain soaked for hours. You internally thanked your parents for being demons since it gave you some resistance to the cold. You ordered for the both of you before finding a seat at a table. The shop was mostly empty. You weren't sure if you should speak or not, but you knew Vergil wouldn't appreciate small talk. You became bashful when you realized he was staring at you. "Uhm…" You tried to think of anything to fill the void between you two. "I was… thinking of buying or renting a house." You said while scratching your cheek. Vergil seemed surprised. "I feel bad… Dante doesn't have much space at Devil May Cry. Plus… It'd be nice to have my own space." Vergil nodded in agreement with your statement. "Perhaps you would allow me to join you?" He questioned. Internally you paused, seeming somewhat more embarrassed now. "I… If you'd like to, I wouldn't mind." You admitted. "Rent would be cheaper that way and percuring a place to stay would be easier with two names on a lease." Vergil said matter-of-factly. You were slightly disappointed with his answer, wishing he desired your company more than mere convenience. "We should start looking now then." You mused. Time went by rather fast after that and the two of you returned to Devil May Cry. Dante wasn't in his usual spot and thinking back on it, you hadn't seen him this morning. You made your way to the bathroom and took a shower. Never before had one felt so good. Afterwards you wandered down to the kitchen. Having a task would keep you distracted from the grief that was still haunting you. Ever since you and Vergil had started living here, the kitchen was stocked with more food than just phone ordered pizza. You were thankful you had all the ingredients to make a cake and a fruit glazing to go with it. You were stirring the glazing in a pot on the stovetop when Vergil came up behind you and reached over your shoulder to turn the heat down with a 'tch'. He had just showered, you could tell by the way he smelled of fresh citrus. The sudden closeness made you tense up slightly and blush. "You have the heat too high." He repermind you. "W-well I don't know how to use your stupid human appliances!" You said defensively. Vergil found your childish rebuttal amusing as he crossed his arms and leaned against the counter. "So, what are you making?" He questioned. "Something for people who aren't named Vergil." You replied, still keeping up with your petty ways. He chuckled. "I should probably have my name changed then since it smells so good." He commented. You ignored his somewhat teasing response and excitedly smiled. "Does it really!?!" You asked and he nodded. "Well good! It's something special, my trainer…" You trailed off. Your thoughts always returned home… "Your trainer?" Vergil asked in a tone unfitting of his usual demeanor. It was softer. "My trainer… She was what we called a drifter. Someone who has no home and travels between realms. She had a mark like mine… She never hid it though. She was brave, and wore it with pride. No matter who challenged her! She'd always come out on top!" You added some oomph to the last part, feeling nostalgic in a good and bad way remembering her. Vergil chuckled softly when he saw how your eyes sparkled remembering how valient this person was. "Sounds like she'd make a good challenge." Vergil mused and you scoffed. "Yeah right! She'd have you on the ground in ten seconds flat!" He seemed bothered by the notion that someone could so easily defeat him. "Besides… I don't know where she went… She was just a hired mercenary after all." You added in a somber tone. "She's probably been everywhere now… My parents were harsh on me growing up." You admitted, feeling it would be right to share some of your past after he had so openly shared some of his with you. "My mother only taught me what she thought was needed and my father was so self absorbed, he never came out of his studies unless it was to put me down in a sparring match. I always wanted so desperately to make them proud but… No matter how hard I tried it was never enough." You were on the verge of crying now and Vergil didn't know how to comfort you. You let out a somewhat bitter laugh before smiling. "But…. Dee… She was like the older sister I always wanted. She told me of her travels and taught me everything. Even things my mother would get mad at her for and scream about how they were pointless for an heir of a family to know." You explained. "Thinking back on it, she was the one who inspired me to leave my realm with all her extravagant stories." You admitted with a small smile. "Would you say your experiences have been on par with what she told you of?" Vergil asked curiously. You stopped stirring the glaze to ponder your answer. "Yeah…" You replied truthfully while bringing your hand once more to your chest. "Yeah." You repeated in a more self assured tone. You didn't know, nor would he tell you. But he took note of every time you brought your hand up to your heart. Somewhere in himself, it made him feel reassured that he had comforted you well. It made him feel good in an indescribable way and was something he was growing fond of. Both that treasured feeling and you.

#Devil may cry #devil may cry 5 #devil may cry vergil #dmc #dmc5 #dmc 5 #vergil sparda #vergil son of sparda #vergil #vergil x reader #vergilxreader #vergil x you #vergil x y/n

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inu-jiru · 4 years

Text

Tomoe, The Eastern Tigress - Chapter Six

Chapter Six - An Unknown Danger

It was the first peaceful morning Ohu had seen for the last six months. The Ohu soldiers gathered together, panting and praising each other over a job well done. Cross and Ken threw themselves onto Ben, unable to hold back concerned tears.

“Oi, oi,” said the old male, slightly embarrassed at the thought of the other males seeing him being cried over. “I told you both I’m alright. If anything, you’ll probably squeeze what little life I have out of me.”

“I’m just so happy you’re safe,” Cross cooed. She licked her husband tenderly on the cheek. Ben grew warm under his fur. “You had me worried. I didn’t want to lose you...”

“Yeah, Dad,” Ken agreed. “Don’t scare us like that, okay?”

“Guooo...” Ben groaned, though he couldn’t help smiling. He’d been so blessed to have a loving family. Even if it was smaller now than it had been five years ago, the love remained the same. He leaned his head against Cross’ and then Ken’s, his own, small display of affection.

Meanwhile, Tomoe and Jiyū found each other. They pressed their heads together, Jiyū running her tongue along her daughter’s forehead.

“We did it, Mom...” Tomoe said with a gentle smile. “We don’t have to live in that stupid, tiny den ever again.”

“I know, dear,” Jiyū chuckled, looking at the younger bitch with tender eyes. “I know, and I’m so proud of you. I shouldn’t have kept us away for so long, but I was just so afraid that I’d lose you...”

“I know, Mom. I understand. I guess it’s just a mom’s job to worry, huh?” Both females laughed together.

“I suppose so,” she chirped. “Maybe I’m just getting soft these days.”

“No way. The way you almost kicked that Jerome guy’s ass?”

“I...may have lost my cool there, hehe.”

While that was going on, Smith gathered together with Mel, Weed, and GB. They’d all made it through the battle, unscathed. Mel’s tail was wagging rapidly. His first battle as an Ohu soldier, and he was still standing!

“You all did great,” said the Spaniel proudly. He nodded towards GB. “Even you, GB. I honestly expected you to turn and run away at some point.”

“Oi...!” GB replied, slightly offended. “Give me some credit.” Smith laughed, not in a mocking way, but in a soft, almost father-like fashion. GB felt the corner of his maw tug into a slight smile.

“We saved Paradise,” whispered Weed, more to himself than anyone else. “If only Father were here, he’d be so proud of me...”

“I’m sure he would be,” Smith agreed. “And I have a feeling it won’t be long before he returns to us.”

“Really?”

“Mmm. Just hold tight, Weed. You’ll meet Gin soon enough.”

Jerome sat alone, far from everyone else. He stared at the ground, reflecting on the past battle. His allies were dead, and he should’ve joined them. However, Kaibutsu was dead. There was no need for him to die anymore, and yet...the Shepherd felt that he failed. He lied down, his head buried in his paws.

A few minutes later, a helicopter appeared in the sky. The swift movement of its rotary blades caused a gust of wind that all the dogs felt. Everyone looked up, seeing the aircraft hovering over Gajou.

“What do these guys want...?” Kagetora snorted. “Better not be here to cause anymore trouble.”

“They could be from that P4 place,” said Harutora. “They might be here to see if Kaibutsu’s dead.”

“Not that they helped any...” Buru scoffed.

Inside the helicopter were two men, the pilot and a supervisor from the P4 lab. Since Kaibutsu’s break-out, the supervisor had been responsible for keeping track of the assassin dogs and their mission, as well as keeping Kaibutsu’s existence quiet from the majority of the public. He looked out of the window, seeing the gathered dogs.

“Some of them are dead,” the pilot noticed.

“Mmm,” replied the supervisor grimly. “Our lab dogs...Robert, Rocca, Hoiler...I see Jerome, too...” He looked closer. Jerome hadn’t looked up from his lying position, too defeated to bother facing the men he’d failed. The supervisor couldn’t tell if he was injured, but there was no way he was going down and facing a bunch of wild dogs to find out. “Their job’s over...but where’s Kaibutsu...?”

The helicopter moved towards the crevice behind Gajou. Soon, both men could see the lifeless body of Kaibutsu. It seemed he’d finally bled out, as the water had returned to its natural color.

“So they’ve defeated him,” murmured the supervisor. He sighed, both relieved and tired. “Good...This whole “man-eating beast” ordeal is over and done with. Let’s just hope we never make the same, stupid mistake again. Take me back to the laboratory. I need to let everyone know.”

“Yes, sir.”

As quickly as the helicopter appeared, it was off. Only now did Jerome bother to look up. He watched as it grew smaller and smaller, before, finally, it was gone. He sighed. Weed took notice of him from afar, and padded closer to the Shepherd.

“Jerome?” he began. “Were those your humans?”

“Yes,” Jerome replied. “They’ll return to take Kaibutsu’s body away, but after that...you dogs’ll have your Paradise to yourselves.”

“And what about you?” Weed tilted his head.

“I...don’t know. I was supposed to give my life to fighting Kaibutsu, and yet, I survived. You Ohu dogs finished him off before I could. Now that he’s dead, I have no purpose.”

“Don’t say that...!” Weed barked in alarm. “It’s better for you to be alive than to waste your life! You survived for a reason...!” Jerome looked up at the young male. His eyes radiated with such passion...

“Weed...” murmured the Shepherd, a tear streaming down his face. He’d had a feeling about this puppy ever since he first laid eyes on him. Perhaps...perhaps this was where he was meant to be now...aiding the future leader of Ohu...

Once things had settled down, burial was had for those who’d fallen during the final battle. Ken led the way to where the substitutes had been laid to rest, and new graves were dug for Jerome’s allies, and the two Ohu soldiers. Everyone sat together, heads bowed in honor of the brave sacrifices. Ben took his place before the rest of the group, speaking loud and clear.

“Soldiers,” he started. “Dogs of Ohu and Paradise. It’s been a long, hard six months. Never have we lost so many of our own since the battle against Akakabuto. And yet, despite all our hardship, here we are now. Today will mark a new age of peace. Paradise will be reopened to all dogs seeking a place to call home. The Ohu Army will reach its great numbers again. I...remember something that the first Boss of Ohu, Riki, said to Gin just before he died.”

Weed perked at this.

““Don’t cry because I’m dying,” he said...” Tears were flowing freely from Ben’s eyes. In fact, many of the Ohu Veterans were weeping harder than they had been before. Tomoe rested a comforting paw on her mother’s shoulder. ““Celebrate because you’ve won!” That's what we have to do now, all of you. Howl, not out of sadness, but victory!”

HOOOOOWL!

Ben threw back his head, taking the lead in the victory howl. One by one, the others joined in, filling the forest with a song of triumph. It reached out for miles; anyone who heard it could tell that Kaibutsu’s reign of terror had ended. As Tomoe howled, for a moment, she wondered if her father could hear her, wherever he was. Would he finally come home and see the strong woman she’d become? Maybe. Tomoe didn’t know for sure. All she could do was hope.

Far from Ohu, at the base of the Southern Alps, a dog named Hook had gotten himself into serious trouble. It was days ago that he’d said goodbye to Weed, Mel, GB and Smith. Traveling on his own, free from the burden of his past, the dog unknowingly had crossed the territory of a dog named Nero. Before he knew what hit him, the Labrador mix had been surrounded by the small pack. While Nero stood back, his three followers pinned Hook down, biting into him. Hook flailed out, trying to free himself from his captors.

“Call off your grunts and fight me yourself, Nero...!” Hook challenged. “Or are you really as cruel as the rumors say you are!?”

“Shut the fuck up!” Nero snapped, his fangs bared. “It’s your own fault for intruding. I have every right to treat you however I wish. Now, you three, hurry and beat that idiot to death!”

“What’s going on here?” a low, baritone voice demanded. Nero looked up, spotting three dogs standing on top of the concrete wall nearby: An akita Inu with a silver, striped pelt and scars on his forehead, a German Shepherd, and a white Kishu Inu with a scarred neck. “Why are you all ganging up on that male?”

“Tch.” Nero’s mismatched eyes narrowed. “I’m not answering to a bunch of trespassers. Don’t you all know who I am?”

“You wouldn’t have anything to do with this Hougen guy we’ve been hearing about, eh, brat?” the Shepherd jeered.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” the Husky spat. He clicked his tongue, and his trio of followers stood at attention. “Kill those three! They’ve pissed me off!”

Swiftly obeying their leader’s command, the three dogs ran up the slanted wall, prepared to bite and kill. Rolling his eyes, the Shepherd wasted no time spinning around, kicking back with his hind leg and sending one of the males flying. The Akita gripped the second male’s neck, swinging him around and sending him back down where he came. Meanwhile, the Kishu seemed to vanish before the third dog could bite down on him.

“Uh!?” the grunt wondered, before the Kishu landed on him, flattening him out on the ground with his paws. Down below, Hook stood up, staring at the Akita in wonder.

“Weed...?” he whispered to himself. “No, no...he’s much too big to be Weed...it’s only been a day or two since I last saw him...”

“Are you done wasting our time, asshole?” asked the Shepherd, yawning.

“I’ll tear you all down,” Nero threatened. “One by one!” His sights were set on the Shepherd, but he never got close enough to reach him. The Akita darted forward, catching the Husky by the neck and launching them both into the air with a kick from his powerful hindlegs. Nero cried in terror as the ground grew further and further away. Finally, gravity took hold, and both dogs fell back towards the earth. The Akita pushed Nero in front of him, forcing him to take the impact.

CRACK!

Nero’s skull hit the ground first, splintering into pieces. The Husky was dead before he even knew what happened. The Akita dropped Nero’s corpse, resting a paw on him as he gave the male’s grunts the side eye. The three males immediately fell down onto their stomachs, whimpering submissively.

“No...!” one of them sobbed. “Please! Don’t kill us! W-We were just following orders! He’d kill us if we didn’t...!”

“Don’t blame him for the actions you chose,” the Shepherd snapped from afar. “Now beat it, or you’ll be feeling my fangs next!”

The three males obeyed, scrambling to their paws and leaving the scene without any other delay. The Kishu and Shepherd joined their comrade, who approached the shivering Hook.

“Don’t be afraid,” said the Kishu. “We’re not going to attack you. Are you hurt?”

“No, sir,” Hook replied, shaking his head quickly. “You all look familiar...”

“We’re the Boss Dogs of Ohu, son,” the Shepherd barked. Hook’s mouth fell open in shock.

“Ahh...!” he exclaimed. “I see now! You’re Gin, John and Akame!”

“That’s right,” Gin affirmed. Hook bowed his head immediately.

“Sir, I owe a life debt to Ohu ever since your son helped me a few days ago.”

“Uh...?” Gin was taken back. His son? John looked at him, a wide grin on his face.

“D’you hear that, Gin?” he said cheerfully. “Ol’ Sakura’s given birth. And a son, too, heh. Wonder how he’s gettin’ along with my Tomoe?”

“I just wish I hadn’t missed the birth...” was Gin’s solemn response. “I hope the others were able to keep her comfortable.”

“I wouldn’t worry,” Akame piped up. “Everyone in Ohu looks out for each other. I’m sure things are fine.”

“Er...” Hook shuffled his paws awkwardly, recalling the rumors he’d heard not long ago. “You’re all headed to Futago Pass...right?”

“Right.” Gin nodded. “That’s where the Dog Paradise is.”

“I...heard there was a terrible incident there a few months ago. A lot of dogs ended up dead.”

“What!?” the trio spoke at once. Gin felt the blood leave his face, and he instantly began feeling light-headed. What happened!? His friends were dead!? Were Sakura and his son alright!? The questions buzzed around in his head like a nest of hornets. Noticing his distress, Akame leaned closer to the Akita and allowed him to rest on his shoulder.

“We won’t know what’s happened for sure until we get back...” the Kishu attempted to remain calm and rational despite the situation.

“What are we still standing here for!?” John began heading north. “If anything’s happened to Jiyū and Tomoe, I’ll...!” He trailed off, though the glistening of his eyes revealed the tears of fear that were threatening to form.

“Y-Yes...” Gin agreed. “It’s best we move on. Hook, thank you for the information. Please be careful out here.”

“Of course, Boss...” Hook bowed his head again. “Thank you...!”

The trio were on their way after that. Akame had to pick up his pace in order to keep from being left behind by the two fathers. Hook watched them leave quietly. The first snowflakes of winter danced around him, settling onto the ground.

Weed... His thoughts returned to the young puppy. Your father’s coming. I just hope everything in Futago Pass is back to normal. I didn’t mean to worry anyone...

Not far from where Hook stood, high up in Japan’s Southern Alps, a large gathering of dogs stood before a small, abandoned hut. The sliding door was partially ajar, allowing whoever was inside to see and hear what was going on while he remained in the shadows. At the front of the assembly were Nero’s lackeys, all three of them bowing as they explained what happened to them.

“Hmph...” a rough voice scoffed from inside the hut. “I’m not surprised that idiot Nero died. He was a weakling, anyway. But to think he’d be taken down by an overrated piece of shit like Gin? Ha!”

“They embarrassed us, Lord Hougen...!” one of the trio whined. “I even heard one of them, John, asking about you. They must’ve been the dogs interfering with our pack takeovers, sir!”

“I see.” There was a sharp creaking sound as the leader of the dogs, Hougen, stood up. He appeared at the doorway of the hut, a hulking, harlequin-patterned Great Dane. “And did you kill them?”

“...Sir?” a grunt barked.

“The dogs from Ohu,” Hougen explained himself calmly. “Did you kill them on the spot? Can’t have them ruining my plans, now can we?” The three dogs remained silent, but Hougen already knew the answer. Without another word, Hougen dove at one of the three males, a paw slamming down on his head and fangs pressed into his throat.

“Kill those other two!” Hougen ordered, ignoring the shrill begs of the unfortunate trio. He snapped his head back, tearing out his victim’s throat. The other two dogs were pounced on by Hougen’s followers, quickly being torn to pieces. Hougen lifted his head, licking the blood from his jowls. “Worthless idiots. Could’ve saved me the trouble of killing those Ohu fools myself. Hmph. You three!”

Three Borzoi dogs, who’d been watching the scene with terror, straightened up as Hougen glared at them.

“Your breed’s fast, right?” The Dane continued. “Go find Gin and his sidekicks!”

The Borzois obeyed, taking off down the mountain trail with a cry of compliance. Hougen ascended the steps of his hut, taking a seat at the top. Looking down, his yellow eyes blazing with the desire to conquer, he gave his order:

“Gather the troops together! By sunrise tomorrow, I’ll make the famous Shooting Star into my personal bitch! Gyahahahaha!”

Gin, John, and Akame had been traveling for hours, yet the peaks of the Southern mountains still loomed over them. It was night now, and the two or three snowflakes had transformed into a blizzard. Neither Gin nor John were willing to stop, though, not until they’d made it back. Akame traveled behind them at a slower pace. It was better to preserve energy rather than wasting it fighting the elements, though his advice was lost to the emotions of a pair of concerned fathers.

Passing through a neighborhood, the crunching of paws in snow had alerted a sleeping Pet Dog. The female Akita mix sat up in her doghouse, looking around for the source of the noise. Through heavy snowfall, she could make out the three travelers not too far away. She took notice of Gin’s pelt.

“That tora-ge fur...!” she gasped, before stepping outside and barking after the males. “Excuse me...!” All three of them stopped, but John was particularly antsy. He pawed at the ground impatiently.

“Can we help you?” asked Akame.

“You...wouldn’t happen to be Gin, Boss Dog of Ohu, right...?” the bitch responded timidly.

“I am,” Gin called over the gale. “Did you need something? We’re in a bit of a hurry, miss...?”

“Reika.” The bitch bowed her head. “My father was a soldier of Ohu. He fought against Akakabuto. He didn’t survive, but my mother told me the story after I was born. I never imagined I’d meet veterans like yourselves...!”

“That’s all fine and all,” John began, continuing to shift about in the snow. “But did you need something?”

“Calm down, John,” Akame insisted. “Show the lady some respect.”

“Have you traveled very far? I can bring you food and shelter.” Reika’s tail wagged politely as she spoke.

“That’s very kind of you, Reika.” Gin flashed the younger bitch a grateful smile. “But--”

“Gin, you and John have been running for hours,” the Kishu interjected. “You’re going to have to stop eventually. If you both rest now, we can get a day’s journey out of the way tomorrow.” John and Gin were both quiet. John still looked hesitant and frustrated, but Gin knew that Akame was right.

“You’re right,” the Akita admitted. He turned to John. “Come on, John. Just for tonight.”

The Shepherd groaned as Gin and Akame followed after Reika. With one last glance towards the north, he reluctantly joined his comrades. It was a short walk to the edge of the neighborhood. An abandoned shed appeared through the snow, one big enough for a small pack to sleep in, if they wanted to. Unable to control themselves, the three males all let out a sigh of content. They’d take a shed over sleeping out in the wind and rain any day.

Reika stepped away after allowing the males to settle in, returning to her home and sneaking in through the back. She got one of the extra bags of dog food and brought it out. Surely, her master wouldn’t mind; it was for a good cause. As Reika began the trip back to the shed, however, a dog appeared in front of her. She dropped the dog food, startled.

“Who are you!?” Reika tried her best to sound firm and confident, but there was a tremble to her voice that revealed her fear. The dog, a Borzoi, flashed what was obviously meant to be a charming smile. Reika didn’t feel any less terrified.

“My name is Rocket,” the Borzoi stated. Although his eyes were definitely focused on her, the large irises and tiny pupils gave them a sort-of dazed look that made Reika very uncomfortable. “I’ve come from the base of Hougen, leader of the Southern Alps. I’m sure you’ve heard of him. Anyway, I’ve heard that a tora-ge Akita and his right hands were in the area. Have you seen them?”

“No, I...” Reika swallowed, tearing her eyes away from Rocket’s. “I haven’t. I’m sorry.”

“I see.” The Borzoi’s eyes didn’t even blink. “Sorry to bother you, then. Please, carry on.”

Nodding, Reika did her best to walk away without making herself seem even more suspicious. She could feel Rocket’s eyes burning into the back of her head, but she forced herself to remain calm until she was certain that she was out of the Borzoi’s line of sight. She broke into a run, heading back towards the shed, her heart pounding. Unfortunately for her, she hadn’t taken into account the speed and stealth of a spy. Rocket, joined by his two brothers, watched Reika from the shadows, seeing her path to the shed. Rocket sneered.

“Just as I thought.” he barked. He turned to his brothers. “Missile, Jet, you stay here and keep watch. I’ll report back to Hougen.

“Nero’s little goons ratted us out,” John snapped after hearing of the mysterious Borzoi. “I should’ve ripped their throats out.”

“We already know that Hougen plans to assemble an army and take on Ohu,” Akame pointed out. “He was bound to find out about our investigation eventually. As long as we lay low, we can make it out of this area and back to Ohu. Then, we can put together a plan with the rest of the army.”

“If there’s even an army left...” John stood up, pacing and lashing his tail. He growled bitterly as dread clung to his heart. Reika sat, awkwardly watching the situation. She couldn’t help but blame herself. Gin, who’d been chewing on some kibble, decided to speak up.

“Look, let’s just...sleep on it, for now.” The brindle male brought up a paw, rubbing at his tired face. He then looked at Reika. “Reika, we’re incredibly grateful for your help tonight, but for your safety, you should return home while you can. The last thing we want is for you to be accused of helping Hougen’s enemies.”

“I don’t mind being accused,” the bitch replied, her voice soft, yet firm. “I’ve heard what kind of male Hougen is. I don’t intend to be loyal to him.”

“Still,” Gin said. “I don’t want to take any risks on your behalf. Perhaps, if you can, you could join the Paradise in the future. For now, though...”

“Ah...I understand, Boss.” The disappointment was rich in Reika’s voice, but she wouldn’t disobey. She stood, giving one final bow of her head before she headed back out into the snow.

“Farewell...! I’ll be praying for all of you!”

#ginga densetsu weed #ginga densetsu weed fanfiction #silver fang legend weed #gdw

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jukemaid · 5 years

Text

prices paid

tw for mentions of major injury and amputation

“does it hurt?” g’raha asks her with no shortage of hesitance. he had not-so gracefully avoided the subject of her prosthetic after the initial shock of the thing, as well as the glamour, had worn off (naturally, tiamat muses, none of the stories talked about its existence).

“oh yes, quite a lot,” she responds and rolls the metal fingers into a loose fist in demonstration. “but not much more than i’m already used to. i’m no stranger to injury, slaying primals and saving worlds and all.” he winces in sympathy, his ears folding back.

“don’t you dare try to apologize for decisions i made,” tiamat snaps the second his mouth opens. he nearly jumps right out of his robes at the sharpness of her voice, his tail fluffed up like a spooked coeurl. “this was my idea and i’m the one who coerced ironworks into doing it. or, well, harassed nero enough that we forged a secret pact to not tell cid what we were doing until after the fact. i still don’t think he’s forgiven me for that, honestly…”

she looks away with a mildly pained expression as she remembers the confrontation between the three of them. cid had only drilled into nero, assuming without a shred of doubt or as much of a glance in her direction that it was only he to orchestrate their plan. that he’d somehow roped her into a vile experimentation for his entertainment and benefit.

she had the unwanted pleasure of telling her faithful, genius friend who saved her and her friends’ lives on multiple occasions that it was all her own idea, including both the operation as well as intentionally keeping cid in the dark about it. the hurt disbelief crossing his face still kept her up some nights, and she hates herself a little for the ordeal.

g’raha’s smile is bittersweet when tiamat returns her attention to him.

“there were… certain tomestones possessing information of rather bizarre mechanisms wholly unrelated to the tower.” he tells her, and she briefly wonders what sort of memories are being tossed about in that strange head of his. “complicated aetheric transfer systems on such an astoundingly small scale, built into equally small and dense apparatus. no one had the slightest idea of what they had been for, but all the same they were protected alongside all of ironworks’ archives. only now does it occur to me that they had not belonged to cid at all, yet found their way into his records all the same.”

she exhales a long breath and leans back against both hands, favoring the left. there is no sensation in her magitek limb beyond pressure, and the constant humming sting of her aether cycling through its processors. the ache pulsing up her spine and neck and shoulder were a downside that she quickly adjusted to, but blessedly the shuddering bite of pain that its now-defunct regulator inflicted on her was gone. all that light had been good for something after all.

“that sounds like him. he always cared so much about me and went out of his way to help my shenanigans any way he could. i can’t count how many times over i’d be dead were it not for his clutch saves, not even getting started on this one instance which i’m pretty sure rounds up to the several hundreds, at least.” she feels some weight against her limb but makes no mention of it and idly swings her legs forward and back.

g’raha chuckles when he lifts her mechanical hand as though it were weightless, its parts gliding silently against each other with total precision. despite the awkward and unyielding structure of her claws, he manages to carefully thread his spoken fingers through hers, edges poking into his skin and all.

tiamat stares at the contrast of metal to flesh and thinks back to every single time she had done the same gesture with his crystallized hand, more often than not during fragile moments wherein he’d shied away from view, or expressed self-loathing for being more tower than man or some equal amounts of bullshit.

emotion snags in her throat and she swallows hard, utterly failing to rid herself of it. her cheeks burn. g’raha’s eyes meet hers and he smiles at her with such open adoration and warmth that she lacks the heart to even attempt to muster up any humor to tease him about it.

she squeezes his hand, so, so gently, and hopes it doesn’t hurt him too badly.

#ffxiv #5.0 spoilers #juke writes #this was gonna be short and then it wasn't

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artisticvicu · 5 years

Text

Summer Time

Noises bombarded him from every side - shouts of pain or cries of attacks, the constant crackling of fires no matter where he turned, the ring of metal against metal, the thunderous rumbles of stone walls collapsing - were drowned out by his pulse in his ears.

"There's nothing more we can do."

There was a strange heaviness to the silence and those within the room gave the speaker desperate looks. Whatever they were expecting never came to pass because despair quickly took over and they started to crumble inward.

He shook his head, adamant as he countered, "There has to be something. We can't just accept this."

"What else is there to do!" one of the old men barked. He met that old man's glare with a steady gaze. "You're a fool to believe there's anything left. We've lost, boy. Accept it."

"No," he stated, standing firm. "I'll die a fool before I roll over just because we're out of ideas." His gaze returned to the original speaker. "There has to be something we can do to delay them long enough to let us regroup and try again. Please, Lord Nero. There has to be something."

A chunk of the floor above came down around him and his shoulder collided painfully with the stone wall as he dodged the flaming debris. Cursing, he kicked at a burning beam blocking his way. If he didn't free himself now, he'd be too late.

If he wasn't already.

"Father."

He brought his gaze up from the fire he was staring at, watching as the daughter of Lord Nero closed the door. Lord Nero rose from his chair and crossed to meet her. Her hands sought his as he asked, "What is it, my dear?"

"There was talk about not having a plan, of how everyone was going to die." Despite the unease in her words, her expression was hard, determined. "Is that true? Is there nothing more you can do?"

Lord Nero shook his head. "We are almost out of resources and the numerous amounts of injured and dead that have dwindled our numbers. Unless I can convince others to join our cause, we will not survive another attempt."

"What if I could get you the time?"

The beam finally gave and he stumbled over loose stone into the once again clear hallway. He took off at a run, his throat tight.

He should have fought it. He should have figured out a different plan. This wasn't right. This wasn't fair!

"I don't know if this will work."

He glanced at her without turning his head, feigning interest in the celebration before them. The ballroom was packed with people and tables, the center floor that had been clear for people to dance packed with twirling bodies. There were so many colors from all of the gowns, it was like getting slapped in the face by a rainbow and then some. He wasn't sure how much longer he could refrain from doing something that would compromise their mission. "Say the word and I will take you right back to your father," he promised. He shifted forward, a smile on his face as he gave her a coy look. "But I would suggest at least giving him a chance to dance with you. He's been eyeing you all night."

She sniffed in distaste. "He should have the balls to come ask me for a dance regardless of how hot my escort is."

He laughed at that, a full, rich laugh that hadn't escaped him in a very long time. He grinned at her. "Come now, m'Lady. It is nothing if not rude to be biased like that. I am, after all, practically your brother. Saying such things would give others the wrong impression."

She sniffed again but the gleam in her eyes told him he had been successful in shifting her mood. "I still think he could do better."

He chuckled, glancing to the man - well, young man the same age as him, if he was not mistaken - they were speaking about and smiled. "It would seem he has finally gained those balls you so eloquently stated he needed to grow."

Silence settled between them as the young man approached. He watched as the young man's eyes strayed from the young woman at his side to him a few times but gave his full attention to her when he approached.

He watched them walk out onto the dance floor, a bitter taste in his mouth as loathing and disgust for that young man churned in his gut.

He bodily slammed into the door and nearly lost his footing when it gave under his weight. The room was eerily empty considering that the whole ordeal started in that room. His gaze shot around the empty space looking for any signs of the ones he was looking for as his chest heaved with every gasp, feet never slowing.

Nothing.

Fear and relief were a toxic mix in his chest.

"Abraxis, what are you doing?"

He looked down from where he sat, book in hand. Standing below him was the young man. "Reading," he stated blandly, gesturing with the book to make a point.

The young man huffed at him. "I can see that. Why are you reading up there?"

He turned his attention to the surrounding branches. "Why not?" he asked back down. Barely a week in the young man's presence and he already wanted to strangle him. How was Emrynth tolerating him?

Again, the young man huffed. "There are plenty of chairs down here."

"But I would be disrupting you and Mistress Ryn's time together."

The young man's expression became surprisingly emotionless. "Lady Ryn has retired to the castle."

Like he needed to be told. She had signaled for him to stay put as she left. "And you're not following?"

The young man looked away, clearly offended by being called out. "I was quite content with being in your company for the time being. Lady Ryn wanted her space and I'm in no hurry to deny her that."

He slipped from his branch and made his way back down to the solid earth below. His landing was a soft, solid thud on both feet but the young man wouldn't look at him. "I am not the greatest company, Your Highness. I'm sure Mistress Ryn has tol-"

"Use my name." He stopped talking, letting the young man before him continue with cheeks still pink. "When we're alone or with Lady Ryn, call me by my name."

"Your Highness," he started but the other shook his head violently.

"No. You're important to her," the young man snapped. There was a slight shift in the other's expression and the following words seemed stilted. "And if you are going to be around, it seems improper for you to remain so formal with me when you are less formal with her, especially in private settings."

He couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him and the indignant look that crossed the other's face was endearing. With a tight smile and a low, mocking bow, he offered, "As you wish, Prince Vanell."

There were a few castle guards in the hallway but the floor was littered with those from the castle and a faction he didn't recognize. He tried not to drown in despair as he kept running.

"Hey, Van," he drawled, dropping the book on top of the Prince's head. "You were supposed to meet us in the garden. Lady Ryn said to tell you she has grown bored waiting and went horseback riding with your little brother instead."

"Oh." Ice hit the pit of his stomach. "I hope they have fun."

Something was wrong. Setting the book down, he leaned closer to try and catch the Prince's gaze. "Hey," he softly spoke. When that didn't work, he gently pressed the back of his fingers into the other's shoulder, withdrawing the touch when he gained the Prince's full attention. "What's wrong?" At a thought, he amended, "What happened?"

Prince Vanell stared at him for a moment before looking away. "They're not expecting Father to make it to morning."

He sucked in a breath, sharp and painful, and, for a fleeting moment, he couldn't remember why he had ever thought that Prince Vanell - still a bit spoiled but happily learning - was any sort of villain. It was clear in those tear filled eyes hollowed out by despair that the Prince was nothing like the image the kingdom saw. He pulled away as a familiar fury burned through him, hiding it from the Prince's eyes. All his rage was aimed at the current man sitting on the throne impersonating a dying King in order to keep the kingdom and other regions ignorant of the truth. And it was working. No one was questioning if the King was himself or not. Not when his twin brother looked and sounded just like him.

He swallowed thickly and asking the stars for more time.

"Why don't we go gather your brother and Lady Ryn and go spend the day with your father, then," he offered around a lump in his throat.

There was a choked sob from the Prince's direction and it clenched at Abraxis's heart as tears sprung to his own eyes. He crossed back over to the Prince, placed a heavy hand on the other's shoulder, and quickly found his arms full of a sobbing Prince. He held on with all he had, begging the stars to just give them till summer, to let the King live till the spring days gave way to the summer's heat.

A skirmish cropped up in his way and he ducked around a widely swung sword.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, your Highness," he offered weakly. The Prince looked up from the book he had been reading softly out lout to the King and his little brother. The King's eyes were closed and the man's chest rose and fell as if in sleep. On the sleeping man's other side the Prince's younger brother by many years was curled into the King's side. His heart went out to both of them. "Lady Ryn was wondering if you would join her for dinner." Her stitching ring bounced off of his shoulder and he flinched, amending, "Ok, so I wanted to make sure you were going to eat dinner tonight and not waste away in a dark room."

"I don't-" the Prince started with a hint of bite, but a wheezy voice cut in.

"You are Abraxis, yes?" that wheezy voice asked.

He tried getting through without facing off with anyone but he didn't get very far before he was forced to draw his sword in order to keep his head.

His gaze went immediately to the King. The eyes blearily looking his way were the same color as the Prince's and just as vibrant even near Death's clutches. "Yes, Your Majesty," he responded with an awkward bow.

"My sons speak highly of you and the Lady Ryn," the King explained, a smile pulling weakly at the man's face. "Vanell is quite taken by you."

"Father!" Prince Vanell wailed, though his voice didn't get overly loud as he buried himself behind his book.

The King chuckled, though it caused his breathing to rattle and wheeze. "Abraxis."

He gave a cry of frustration and rage as another soldier got in his way. Already he was delayed with the last four, he didn't need to deal with more. With a vicious swipe of his sword, he took out as many in his way as he could, pressing forward.

"Yes, Your Majesty?"

He broke through the fight.

"Watch over my two boys for me," the ill man croaked, voice weak at the edges as tears gathered at the corners of those tired eyes. "Help Vanell to be happy when he gains the throne."

He gave a strangled scream when more blocked his way.

His throat closed at that. Was the King insinuating what he thought he was? He hadn't even humored the idea, let alone spoken about it with the Prince. Certainly Vanell and Emrynth were as in love as they appeared.

He charged with every intent of slicing his way through.

Right?

Someone or several someones came to his aid but he didn't take the time to check. He took the opening and ran.

"Of course, Your Majesty."

The roar of his pulse obscured any noise sent his way anyways.

Their laughter mingled in the air as they crashed to the grass. It was all he could do to stay awake, though, as both his gasping for air and laughter petered out. The spring winds were pleasantly warm, the sun equally so, and it made him even more drowsy than their sparring alone. A small part of him was aware that summer time was approaching, which meant that they were almost out of time.

"Hey, Abraxis?"

He hummed in acknowledgement, eyes closed as he tried to hang onto the moment.

"Don't hate me, ok?"

He slammed bodily through another door, colliding with a number of bodies and hitting the ground with them.

Unfamiliar lips pressed against his for a brief moment. He opened his eyes as Vanell pulled away but he didn't let the Prince go far. With a careful but swift hand, he burying his fingers in the other's hair. "I could never hate you," he urged honestly. "But what of Ryn?"

He brought his head around as the bodies under him tried to disentangle themselves from each other.

His eyes found who he was looking for and screamed.

Vanell's face turned scarlet and the Prince pressed his face into Abraxis's shoulder to hide it. "She's been trying to get me to actually speak up for months now. We've been pretending for my Uncle's sake."

Something within him twisted. "Van, there's-"

There was a shout from the castle and Abraxis's insides went cold.

"Vanell!"

The mass of bodies gave and he was at the Prince's side as Emrynth clashed swords with the Tyrant King. His shaking hands pressed on the Prince's wound gaining a strangled cry from the Prince. "You idiot," he choked out. "You were supposed to leave the fight to us!"

Vanell coughed before managing, "Is Ryn alright?"

"Of course she is," he snapped. "She knows to block a sword with a weapon, not her body."

Vanell gave a huff of a laugh, several faint coughs chasing after it. "And my brother?"

"Safe with your Father," he assured him but the tears still came and the sob choked him. This was all his fault.

Vanell smiled weakly as he raised a bloody hand up to touch Abraxis's cheek. "I'm glad...I finally kissed you...before this."

He gave a laugh but it was hollow. "Make it through this and you can kiss me all you want."

Vanell's weak smile grew as the Prince's hand fell back to the floor and Abraxis begged the stars with all his being that Vanell would wake up after this.

#All the Creation #Creative and Prompt Writing #Action August #RPNation #phrase prompt #500 to 2500 words

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loyalbreed · 6 years

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M Y G A W A i N V S whatever the fuck people think about him. Im throwing hands down in this post so lets go. A few things before we begin, there are no real canonical?? Ages--to be honest I find this to be debated rather widely. I always hc Gawain to easily be my own age in his Mid 20′s due to where it is he is taken in life. I’m going to apologize in advance the names of some people slip past me, as someone who works 40 hrs a week and is trying to research other things at the same time!! My ability to retain information isn’t as good as I use to be. FURTHER there are many iterations always of the Arthurian Legends. As well as mass amounts of thesis and research material, this is my own pull from reading what I have. O O 1 . ( This may be a bit touchy please read at your own risk! ) The Tale of the Green Knight is a story about Gawain more or less finding himself. He is youthful at this age in my interpretation he’s roughly in his teens. My biggest gripe and interest in this is the whole Ordeal with The King ( Bercilak ). Gawain asks to say in his castle for the time being, waiting for his challenge etc. Bercilak agrees on one condition, whatever gifts he receives that he must return to him by the end of his stay. My G R i P E and own individual interpretation which imo heavily reflects his personality as of now when dealing with women. Is ONE OF HIS GREATEST challenges in this story is his plight with Chasity. Gawain had that more or less taken by him, pushed and pulled--forced on him to think about. The Grand Ol’ King sends his wife purposely every knight to Seduce Gawain. Who refuses her, where he often times is just there sitting. Admitting that she is most beautiful and coaxing his nerves that he finds her most darling. She pushes himself onto him time after time. Night after night. And he is subjected to this. In some narratives it is him desiring her back but making the choice not to because he knows it is the right thing to feel. In others he is most uncomfortable, where its described she is kissing him where he is just there feeling it. What i m p o r t a n c e does this have? A lot actually; Imo Gawain is a victim in this story. First of all he is unacknowledged that in some cases his own damn mother put this all together. To ‘Challenge’ him as a man and a Knight. Forcing a woman onto him to test his ‘Chasity’--which if we all Know Gawain is thrown out the window as he often finds himself wooing women and before the battle of Camlann comes to Arthur in a dream surrounded by women. However he is forced into this subject at the beginning of his ‘Youthful’ endeavors as ALLOCATED in the story this is PRE KNIGHT Gawain this is one of is basically the story that makes him who he inevitably becomes!! So yes this is established in a air of his youthful tidings. Also I think this is a great underlined issue on how people don’t think men can suffer the same things women do when they are forced into sexual situations they dont want to be. Hey so lets remember that. ALSO HEY, afterwards he is put in situations afterwards where women are woo’d by him most easily. Want him. Desire him. Etc, I do not recall reading a moment where he was ever quipped with the desire of WANTING someone himself. Not at all. He loved and enjoys women, but there was not entirely a moment where he himself pursued anyone specifically? If there is I’ve yet to read it and there are far more times where the latter is true. Take the story of Ragnell, Arthur fucks up and in order to save his ass he needs basically to ship his favorite Nephew ( GAWAIN ) off to some old hag lady. Gawain much obliges, he understands and loves his King. Admitedly doing anything for them. The story of Ragnell is great I’d love to write a meta( like with the Green Knight )about that but rn, the point is. Gawain didn’t want to marry her it was an arranged marriage. So when he comments about having left his marriage behind and wishing to pursue women freely again. Like at least he knows what he wants? 10/10 . And ontop of that, despite it turning out all well in the end. Gawain was the MOST hospitable husband. He was loyal to her. He loved her. He respected her. And he made damn well sure he was the man he need be for her. It’s stated time and time again that Gawain was a Knight established with this romanticism about him. As if to say he was more or less the ideal Knight for women. This is established more in all sorts of literature as he is always very endearing toward standing up for women. And believing in what women do and their own choices. Further I stated that Gawain never truly pursued women and was always swept up by them in text. Gawain is use to making women happy, when he is around he is most pleased to make them smile. To see them smile. He is around women and they ARE ALWAYS happy. That is just how it is-- FOR ME I INTERPRET THIS as a means that he MUST ALWAYS make women happy. He almost sees it as a job or a conditioned fault of his that he must do. And if he fails--then this is bad on him as a knight and as a person. It is sad in a sense that with a lot of his literature imo it comes off this way, that he just need be this way. he must always be the Knight whom women most love and respect. But what does this have to do With N A S U ‘s interpretation! Actually a lot!!!!!!! I love Nasu’s version of Gawain its rather spot on save for a few sexist things that I feel are a matter of cultural differences. That could easily be omitted and chalked up to Gawain being an idiot, rude, Blunt more likely, or just daft. Most of his rude comments are almost always because the other person has done something that he himself feels its warrant by to say. Where as someone may state ‘well you should know better.’ Gawain would out right tell you, ‘You were stupid and deserved what happened to you.’ As such is the difference, Gawain calling Nero a Whore despite being an adversary of women in arthurian legend marked me as odd??? For Nasu to do that, something I kinda was like mmmmmmmmmmmm. I do not agree, but then I remember how hot blooded Gawain actually is in Arthurian Legend. He has killed people for lesser reasons, started fights because he didnt get his way, and ultimately was a bit??? A brat. So him being mad and choosing the route of acting like child and making rather uncomely comments could make complete sense. Im down for this aspect / interpretation of Gawain. Even the comments about breasts and constantly having a taste or judgement of women. Which makes me laugh because I joke he is a fuck boy cause he kind of is? But he would never? Like he might tell a woman ‘You are not my type because I like this type of women.’ It would not be to insult them but to make that evident! But in my interpretation I make it that he has fetishes ( big breast etc ), but would genuinely adore all types of women. Also that he would be a bit dejected and confused if a woman denies him but he wouldnt be so much as--harmed by the ordeal? Tbh hes more like THOR so I append any comments I had jokingly though Gawain to be mildly sexist. It really isn’t that he is not purposely saying bad things, he genuinely likes women. Wants women to be women and do women things. HE just knows what he wants. Likes what he likes and !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HE WOULD PROBABLY TAKE A YANDERES LOVE AND BE LIKE???? OH SHOOT YOU WANNA KILL THE PEOPLE I LOVE??? I UNDERSTAND U ARE MOST EXCITED BUT I BEG OF U TO CEASE AT ONCE! Also if they kill him hes just like ‘well u are most welcome to try ma’dam.’ GAWAIN STRAIGHT UP WALKS IN ON BRYNHILD AND SIEGFRIED--WITH BRYN HAVING TIED HIM UP AND STRAIGHT UP WAS LIKE oh this is normal I apologize for intruding. As wel las Hakuno and Kiara--like Gawain is just stupid/daft/is chill with a lot. Which honestly if you put in aspect of a lot of the things with what I said prior. It can all tie neatly over and make a lot of sense. Okay I think Im done venting/talking about him in this aspect!! I don’t condone his rather shitty words he’s an ass and says a lot of stupid shit. But I enjoy that he has personality--like dont get me started on his loyalty. This was about him + women + his lore and how this effects my interpretation thanks for reading.

#long post #long post ///#fuck u im not readmoreing it #i love gawian hello #「✱《 𝓢 𝓱 𝓮 s p e a k s 》 ᵒ ᵒ ᶜ」#「✱《 𝓻𝓮𝓲𝓷𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓽𝓮 》ʰᵉᵃᵈᶜᵃᶰᵒᶰ」

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halcyon-writings · 6 years

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Can you do a #20 in the angst prompt with Dante from Devil May Cry?

since I wasn’t sure if anon wanted the reboot or original I just decided to go with the original

masterlist - fandom list - prompts tag

Not that you minded still being alive or anything, but you were pretty certain that you were going to die on that last job of yours. Well, it was almost a given, as ever since you partnered up with Dante’s business, it seemed like there was always some weirdo that wanted to destroy the world, take over it, or even both, and this was basically one of these times.

You were putting pressure on the stab wound on your side (which may or may not have been deeper than you anticipated, but did they seriously have to stab you? No, no they did not) and you were pretty sure something was broken. The entirety of your body felt numb, and the new ‘baddie’ decided to take their time and just start monologing about their plans and goals.

They wanted Dante’s attention, with him being the Son of Sparda and all that. So their plan was just why not take a captive for a while.

(You’d eventually learn that he didn’t really want you to know, but seriously, it was a little obvious, what human man had bright white hair and could transform into a powerful demonic form?)

You were in too much pain to make a snarky remark as they continued on with their speech, but one thing you were certain about was that holy shit, you were gonna die. The thought of that might’ve scared you a little.

You weren’t going to let yourself be used like bait, and so you attempted to escape, which led to your current predicament: you on the ground, bleeding out, broken, and bruised.

With a rather showy display of breaking down a wall, not like doors had a purpose or anything like that, Dante had appeared, with Trish, Lady, and oh goodness was that Nero and Lucia ? behind him. However, he was uncharacteristically serious, eyes flashing dangerously.

The baddie, or whatever their name was had no time to react before Dante took them down. Well, at least that was taken care of.

“Good god what took you guys so long,” You joked tiredly, the pressure from your hand was beginning to get weaker, “With all this blood there wouldn’t even be a need for blood drives anymore.”

Although Dante seemed amused at your remark, you could still see the seriousness in his eyes, along with hints of concern?

“I’d feel a hell of a lot better if you weren’t staring at me as if you were a kid whose dog just got hit by a car,” You muttered weakly.

Dante raised an eyebrow, “Selling yourself short aren’t you Lassie?”

“If I wasn’t in a lot of pain right now, I’d hit you,” You replied, a sudden jolt of pain surged through your body and the usually cool and aloof Dante was kneeling beside you,

It was probably because you were losing consciousness, but you let a little bit of your fear show on your face, before grabbing his forearm as tight as you were able (which wasn’t much since you were going to pass out anytime soon).

“Please don’t let me die, Dante.”

It had been two weeks since then, and you were basically fine, you didn’t need to talk to anyone about your ‘ordeal’, as Lucia had so eloquently put it, and your wound was barely hurting anymore. But, Dante wouldn’t allow you to get back to work right away, believing that no you weren’t fully okay yet. He did let you stay at Devil May Cry during your recovery.

He was a total mother hen, and you were getting a bit annoyed, since half the time he’d be his usual snarky, outgoing self and the other half he’d shoot down any idea of you getting back to work.

This wasn’t the first time this had happened either, as you remember before you fully worked with him, he got this way after what happened to his brother during the Temen-ni-gru fiasco.

You normally didn’t like to start any arguments, but you were just that tired of being treated like this. Trish and Lady weren’t at Devil May Cry, as the two were out either on an actual job or another shopping trip (to which you declined an invitation, not feeling like walking around a mall a lot to look at different clothes)

And when you confronted your longtime friend/ maybe-possibly? boyfriend (you’ll admit that once or twice the two of you slept together), an argument was bound to start.

“I just don’t see the issue with me getting back into jobs, especially if they’re terribly simple,” You insisted.

“Well for one, you’re still injured,” Dante answered with a scoff, currently seated in the swivel chair you got him as a gift and partially a joke (when he complained about how uncomfortable his old one was), legs propped on his desk, hands behind his head, which irritated you a just a little bit, “and you almost opened your stab wound again a few days ago, when you should’ve been resting.”

“My bladder didn’t mind that I had stitches and I needed to pee man.”

“Yeah and having you bleed out in my bathroom? Doesn’t sound like an ideal situation,” He answered smartly.

You narrowed your eyes, “Fine, but clearly this,” You gestured towards yourself, more specifically where you were wounded, “Isn’t the only thing that’s bothering you.”

“I think I’m doing pretty okay, thank you very much,” He answered tersely, getting up from his seat, which meant the conversation was over, and made his way towards the door of the shop, “I have a job to do, and you should just rest up.”

You clenched your fist, and before you could even stop yourself, you snapped, “For once, stop pretending you’re okay! Just talk to me! How is it that whenever you’re injured basically similarly if not worse than I am, everything’s all fine and dandy but if I even stub my toe, it’s suddenly as if I can’t even function without someone helping me. ”

“Because even if I had those injuries, I’d be more likely to survive, you’re only human (Y/N).”

Your eyes narrowed again, “Are you really insinuating that I’m weak? If you are-”

“I don’t want anyone else important to me to die, alright?” He interrupted, making you go silent, “I’ve dealt with that enough already. And when you grabbed my arm before you went unconscious, I swore to myself that I never wanted to see you be that scared again.”

It was quiet for a few seconds, before you walked over to him, and placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. Despite your annoyance, the more rational part of you could understand where he was coming from, as you were also aware of his life and how difficult it had been for him.Which also meant you felt a little guilty about how you were acting.

“I’m sorry,” you began, “Here I am, pushing myself to get back to jobs and all that, worrying you more than I probably should. With how much I was just sitting around or laying down, I would’ve felt myself going a little crazy, but I know that you’ve lost good people from your life. So I’ll take it slow, and then I’ll try and get back to the swing of things.

Now come on, you have a job to get too, and the later you are, the less they’ll wanna pay,” You added, beginning to move him in the direction of the doors.

Dante had the usual cocky smirk on his face, but this time, it was a lot more natural, “Oh come on babe, you know I never keep a client waiting.”

You snorted, “Yeah totally, and seriously, get going, I expect you to bring home something for Dinner, you know as well as I do that I can barely cook.”

“Being able to make instant ramen doesn’t mean you can cook,” Dante reminded you.

Playfully, you swatted at his butt, making him laugh, “Well go on, but I do expect something good to eat later.”

He gave a mock salute and then was out the door.

#devil may cry imagine #dmc imagine #dante x reader #dante imagine #imagine #mine

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never-shuts-up · 7 years

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RAW 4/10 Adventure: Getting All Shook Up

So I got a message around 8 AM Monday that a friend of a friend had some openings for seat fillers for RAW at Nassau Coliseum that night. So the adventure began!

I immediately texted D and by 10 AM we had both made plans to leave work early, and I was working on my second dose of kava and third or so near anxiety attack.

Left work at quarter to three, on the road by four… and promptly got stuck in traffic. Accidents kept popping up on the map and there were moments when we were certain we would never get there before the call time, and even contemplated turning around, but we were already on the GWB and I was still determined to try.

When it was starting to look impossible, this exchange happened:

Me: I guess anything worth doing in life leads to either a scar or a story.

D: If you can call sitting in traffic “a story.” Unless it ends in “And that’s where you came from!”

Me: I think that would lead to a very specific selection of baby names.

Two hours later we rolled up to the Coliseum with less than a gallon of gas in the tank, no idea where the nearest gas station was, and no clue where to find our contact.

The particulars of us actually getting in aren’t important, but we found our guy and made it. We were given the rundown of how seat-filling works and shown to some really good seats where we would wait for a wrangler to come move us to empty seats on camera if and when we were needed. From there we got to see the first few matches, and then our wrangler found us and waved us down to even better seats, low in the bleachers on the other side of the ring. We were slightly above eye level with the wrestlers in the ring and right in front of the cameras, but any time they played toward the main cameras, we were watching them from behind. With some of the talent, this is a really good problem to have (insert a bunch of “peach” emojis here), and with some it’s not a problem at all because they are able to play to all sides.

The Highlights:

- Enzo and Cass opening things up in a taping for Main Event. They were super extra hyped up because it’s basically a hometown show, so much “how you doin’?” With which I just wanted to respond “stuck in traffic” as Enzo detailed the drive there from Jersey. Cass vs. Titus O'Neil while Enzo worked the crowd.

- Lucha cruiserweight tag team with Gran Metallik! This was the point when D and I both well and truly lost our shit. Luchadors at any non-lucha show are just so extra that you can’t not love them, and I want to give them the Best Dressed award for the night. Sparkle capes!!!!!

- Miz and Maryse opening the show with their John Cena & Nikki Bella bit. I was in stitches, because I thought they were done with that and certainly didn’t expect to see them coming to RAW with it. And then who shows up? As you know, it was Dean Fucking Ambrose! And meanwhile I’m thinking “shit. If Dean’s coming here, then Seth Rollins must be leaving because they would never tease us with the idea of a Shield reunion (or even messing with the leftover threads of that plot) without putting a giant wrench in it somehow.” This only dampened our spirits until the setup for the Sami Zayn vs. Miz match, which had me jumping out of my seat. Hell fucking yes! Sami in a singles match!

- Cruiserweights were an absolute treat because Austin Aries is hilarious, and Neville just sat next to the announcers’ table looking pissed. I don’t quite buy TJP as a heel, maybe I’m just not up on the history here, but I’ll gladly keep watching.

- We moved seats before Seth’s “Fate” appearance, so we were watching it from behind, and that was a smidge disappointing but I know my face was in the background doing… I don’t know what. Emoting like a motherfucker. Cheering, crumpling, cheering again. I think D was sitting in the row in front at the time so he didn’t see my face, but I bet he could hear it. Watching Kurt Angle’s entrance, the entire exchange, and Samoa Joe getting shut. the. fuck. down. was magnificent.

- Finn Balor vs. Jinder Mahal: OMG. Finn did his infamous entrance crotch pose on our side of the ring, almost directly in front of us, and I died a little. Aside from a messy forearm, Jinder did make Finn look good, but then again Finn always looks good, and even though he doesn’t really work the crowd as much as others, his grace and intensity always impress, and the crowd was With Him 100%. (Before and after this match was when my phone started blowing up with messages from friends who saw us on TV, and the timing could not have been better to capture us at peak enthusiasm.) Of course, I’m pissed that Finn got concussed, but so grateful that I was able to see him wrestle just once.

- Sami vs. Miz was everything. I danced like a lunatic to Sami’s music, and we had several “ole ole” chants going. We booed the Miz so hard he turned around and full-on glared at our entire section a few times, which just made us boo louder. The energy we built up for Sami felt great, and he was definitely taking and appreciating it, and effing killed it. And of course we all freaked out again when he won; I was doing the Running Man at my seat and giving zero fucks what that looked like.

- 8 Man Tag Team Match - so many highlights. Too-sweeting Gallows & Anderson, who finally ditched the dopey shoulder pads they wore last week. The Hardys being the Hardys and so so so many “Delete” and “Brother Nero” chants. They may not be broken, but I think we might be. Sheamus and Cesaro doing their James Bond meets Magic Mike entrance in the kilts. Watching Cesaro take a beating from G&A and the Shining Stars at the same time, for a long fucking time, was punishing, but the ups outnumbered the downs. The guys in the row behind us had a gigantic Irish flag, so Sheamus gestured right at us to acknowledge it during their exit, and D had a whole “Immortan Joe looked at me! I am awaited in Valhalla!” moment.

- The end of Ambrose vs. Owens, which in general was more satisfying than a lot of the Ambrose matches in recent memory, he actually seemed to flip the switch in a more believable and useful way. By this point we were really getting tired, and thinking about the logistics of leaving… and then Chris Jericho showed up to deliver a “bye, bitch” Codebreaker at his former bestie, the televised part of things ended, and shit got interesting. How interesting? Samoa Joe interesting.

Then more interesting.

Seth Freakin’ Rollins interesting.

I made a sound that I’m pretty sure only dogs and bats can hear.

So the match that was supposed to happen last week went forward as a dark match. I was marking out for all of it. There were “Stupid Idiots” chants, which were everything. I think D didn’t have the heart to make fun of me for freaking out when Seth sold the knee thing, because I always die a little when that happens. But everyone’s favorite shiny pants goofballs triumphed, of course, and Jericho got to work the crowd and tell Long Island we made the list. (After our ordeal getting there, if I had the List I would have put Long Island on it for sure. I would have put Long Island at the TOP of the fucking List and everyone who drives in the greater NY area as well, because fuck it all.) During this part, he was playing toward the crowd on the camera side, and Seth was standing in the opposite corner working our side, including some great drumroll-spirit-fingers when Jericho built up to his signature line. Couldn’t have asked for a better ending. I wanted to go down to the floor to try and catch a closer glimpse or a high-five or something on their way out, but decided that kind of access should be saved for the people who paid a shit-ton of money to be there, not our freeloading asses.

The Low Points

- Mixed feelings about Nia vs. Charlotte. It looked like Nia was finally getting her due and getting to be the monster we all know she can be, but even though I couldn’t tell from where we were sitting, I heard later that it looked wildly unsafe on camera. Charlotte looked pretty wrecked at the end, but I couldn’t tell if it was just her selling it really well. Later, Alexa and Mickie’s big reveal built Monster!Nia up further, and I freaked the hell out at seeing Alexa. The only problem is, Nia gets way too close to being too real, to an extent that gets scary - and even if you don’t know much and don’t know what you’re looking for, you can feel something is out of place.

- The Wyatt teaser. I don’t really understand the logic of trading him. Eater of Worlds vs. Demon King has the potential to be pretty badass, but it kicks the whole Wyatt Family narrative right in the balls.

- Slut-shaming chants aimed at Maryse, who was leaning on the apron right in front of us during the Sami/Miz match, with her butt sticking out in some very accentuating black and rhinestone shorts. I think I yelled “I don’t agree with your decisions, Maryse, but I respect them!”

- The Roman backstage beatdown I have a lot of mixed feelings about. I’m not a fan of backstage beatings after a certain point - a few blows or throws to build up a plot are fine, but watching someone get full-on wrecked never sits well with me. Sometimes it just feels cheap. And this definitely did not sit well. As seat fillers, we were told that we should cheer or boo with the people around us, but I really couldn’t. I could not get down with it for a LOT of reasons, and was really glad not to be on camera. I know there were good plot reasons for it to happen this way, but I couldn’t really get into the tidal wave of emotion the rest of the audience was riding. If anything, it made me feel seasick. Especially when they started replaying it. Repeatedly.

Overall? Amazing night. Worthwhile experience. Some of the trades seemed to be set up well, some didn’t seem all that necessary, but it kind of has to be considered as a whole with Tuesday’s Smackdown. As the FIRST live WWE event that D and I have been to, it was really one for the books, and I would not trade it for anything. Even though it had its flaws, I was thrilled to death to be there, and grateful for every moment. Also, if you watch this and see some goofy platinum-blonde in a yellow scarf cheering and hollering her heart out next to a tall, long-haired ginger dude, let me know. I was flailing extra just for you.

#wwe raw #adventure #recap

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