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that-gay-guy-from-hell · 1 year

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Bound by Blood: Reader & Sparda Bloodline (Platonic)

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

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

Requested by @loshpen! :)))

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

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

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

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

STORY START:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Vergil pouted, “But--”

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

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

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

“Vergil!” Sparda growled at his son.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Vergil’s eyes went wide, “Wha..?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who’s that?”

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

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

“Vergil?”

“Hm?”

“Is Egypt a real place?”

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

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

“Sure, if that is what you wish.”

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

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

“Hm?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nothing,” Vergil answered before you could.

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

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

Dante grabbed you and gave you an aggressive noogie.

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

He stopped, “Sorry..!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What is it?”

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

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

“Dad?” You meekly looked up at him.

“Hm?”

“Why is it named that?”

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

“Weren’t Yamato and Rebellion yours too?”

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

“Then why aren’t you keeping it?”

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

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

“Sure, I don’t see why not.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Par-Pardon?”

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

Sparda didn’t respond.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That might work, however--”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The incident was never brought up again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, now-”

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

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

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

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

“Exactly.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nothing.”

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

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

“Oh yeah? What did I say?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Vergil sighed softly, “You are a fool.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm?”

“Aren’t you missing someone?”

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

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

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

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

Vergil squinted, “What..?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Once more, Dante nodded, “You did.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

The red devil nodded and swallowed his emotions.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then who--”

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

“You don’t say…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Vergil didn’t answer but just kept walking.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you talking about, Dante?”

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

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

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

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

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

Vergil looked over to Dante but said nothing.

“Verge..?”

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

“Was that supposed to be comforting?”

“I didn’t think that I had to be.”

“What a wonderful older brother I have.”

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

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

“Hm?”

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can just--”

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

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

“That is correct--”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Vergil squinted, asking Dante to explain.

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t jinx us, Dante.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Still is weird.”

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

“Is it anything important?”

Vergil hesitated, “I’m unsure.”

“Can you try and read it?”

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

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

"William Blake's work? Yes."

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

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

“Hm, wonder why?”

“Why what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But what if--”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Eh, I’m just tired.”

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

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

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

“What-”

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

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

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

“Then what happened to--!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It tilted its head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Their voice tilted in disbelief, “Really now?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, I think--”

“Just get to the point!”

“They don’t know English anymore.”

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

“Not read, just talk.”

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

“Tell them Argosax is dead.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It said nothing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Lost..?”

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

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

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

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

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

“There aren’t any others close by.”

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

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

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

“Uh…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Verge,” Dante looked to his twin.

“Hm?”

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

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

“Fair, I umphf-!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You ever have to..?”

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

“Huh, really? How’s that work?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure, I--”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Had me convinced otherwise--”

Vergil jabbed Dante in the gut with his elbow.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How?”

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

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

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

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

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

Your body stiffened, “In the Nelo Angelo?”

“You know of it?”

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

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

“I am surprised that we never met.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nephew?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Since they were born.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s not,” Vergil’s tone was flat.

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

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

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

“Like what?”

“I--”

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

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

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

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

Nero stood with a pale expression.

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

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

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

“R-right,” Nero swallowed hard.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s what I thought,” Nero smiled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nero shook his head, “Nope, sorry, I’m gonna pass.”

“You sure?” Dante looked up at him, very obviously half-awake.

“Yeah. I’m sure alright,” with that, the young hunter turned off the shop lights, “I’ll see you all in the morning,” he stood with mouth agape before closing it with a shake and going up the stairs.

A few hours passed. You were feeling tired, at least, you think you were feeling tired; it had been so long since you’d slept that you weren’t sure if that’s what it was. Both twins were fast asleep and Vergil had turned to face you in his sleep, grabbing onto you tightly.

A deep bittersweet melancholic happiness tugged at your heart. Deep inside, you feared that this was all an elaborate nightmare and that, soon, this would all disappear; making you lose your family once again.

Creaking from the staircase pulled you from your thoughts. Before you could react, you saw Nero standing over you.

“Hey,” his voice was quiet and meek, “I uh…”

You removed your hand from Dante and patted the empty space beside you, which Nero immediately laid in.

Another hour passed and all three of the white-haired men were asleep. Nero’s actions echoed that of his father’s; starting with facing away from you and now he was gripping onto you as if he were going to be ripped away from you. Your eyes felt heavy and you were fighting the urge to close them, but you couldn’t help it. The loud purring from your family and the warm bundle that the group of fire devils created was enough to push you over the edge into a deep sleep.

The sound of a phone ringing woke you up, slowly blinking awake. A groan left your lips as you felt something (or rather someone) heavy laying on you.

Dante was still on top of your chest but he felt heavier for some reason. He felt much taller too. Both Vergil and Nero were still latched onto you, however, they’d settled to grab your arms instead of your chest. They, too, felt much heavier and larger.

An unexpected loud voice rang through one of your ears, “What on Earth?” The eldest shot upright, “You..!”

“Mmm, Verge,” Dante mumbled, his warm cheek was placed against your chest and he had drooled in his sleep, “What are you shouting for?”

“Dante, open your eyes.”

When the red devil did, he pushed up and stared down at you with wide eyes.

Quickly, he stood up and grabbed a free blanket, “Here, wrap yourself in this before the kid wakes up.”

Confused, you tried to pull your arm free, only to have Nero grip you tighter.

“Here,” Dante leaned back down and wrapped your body in the cloth.

That’s when you realized what had happened. Your skin was no longer covered in scales --your teeth were no longer too large for your mouth --your hands were no longer clawed.

No longer trapped in your state of survival.

You were what you once were all those years ago.

Human.

ENDING NOTES: Poems quoted: ❥The Book of Urizen; Chapter II, IX, Preludium: William Blake ❥Infant Joy: William Blake ❥The Little Boy Lost: William Blake--changed slightly; replaced “boy” with child. ➖➖➖ I hope y’all enjoyed this. It took me SOOOO long to finish this. Not sure if I’ll do something like this again, I couldn’t switch between writing this and then writing some “x reader” stuff (because it would bleed into one or the other.). Please let me know if y’all liked this or not! I’d love to hear feedback! Thanks again for the request and I hope everyone has a great day/night! :))))

Want to see more like this? Check out the book on AO3 or check out the Masterlist for Tumblr!

THERE IS ALSO ART THAT GOES WITH THIS BUT I AM TOO FUCKING TIRED TO DEAL WITH THAT RN LMAO IT IS SO LATE AND I HAVE SPENT SO LONG ON THIS (Not that I'm complaining, I enjoyed writing this; it just took so damn long lmao)

If anyone is interested, there is a chapter on my AO3 of all the scrapped content from this fic. As you could/can probably tell, there was so much stuff I wanted to put in this and just either didn't because of time or scrapped because it became too overly saturated with the stuff. Please give it a read, it actually explains some stuff that I left in (like the ceiling paintings for example).

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rosewould · 1 year

Text

cynics; jns

part viii (final)

masterlist

words; 32k (don't even say anything)

genre; angst, smut, and fluff (the gang's all here)

warnings; descriptions of gore, mc cuts her finger on glass, mentions of revenge porn, toxic relationship(s), manipulation, cunnilingus, fingering, piv, looong dick, multiple orgasms (2), making love, l bomb, unprotected sex, choking, body worship

preface; the song for this lengthy part (especially near the middle-ish end) is The Loneliest Time by Carly Rae Jepson. I think that song perfectly encapsulates the bittersweet feeling a lot of this final chapter has. Since this chapter is unseemly in its length, I separated this with color-coded dividers so you can take a break and come back. I would’ve just separated this, in all honesty, it shouldn’t have been the last chapter yet now that I laid it out, but it’s been dragged out for too long.

So here it is! Here Cynics was and what a ride it has been. I really hope you guys enjoyed this fic and its ending, despite me not setting up the characters and plot points up super well. Thank you for all the amazing love for this fic, I’m not sure I could’ve finished it without the incredibly sweet asks and engaging conversations. Thank you a million times~

The air is frigid as you look over the posts from user purkyung. Just as large as you before joining the Dreamies. For a moment you viewed her as a possible rival. Not because you were jealous of her or felt threatened by her, but because you were too similar to ignore. No one said anything, but you could tell people were thinking it.

Chaekyung looked like the perfect cast for the love interest in a coming-of-age story. One written by a man to entertain like-minded men. She’s pretty in a believable way. You can vividly picture her in a domestic setting.

She played comfort games and had a substantial female audience, again, similar to yours. She didn’t ask for it or even market herself toward them, but she had a decent amount of keen male eyes on her. Enough to make her pull her shirt higher and angle her camera to cut off before her belly button.

Chaekyung, like many others, was disgusted by the breaking news. She stated as much publicly because she didn’t want to see women once again be disregarded for their well-being on such a large scale. And her daring to say as much earned her a full scale attack.

There were so many people speaking out against whoever was responsible. They had hashtags trending on multiple platforms to announce their distaste for what happened. Of course, there were people suggesting the backlash was overblown and loudly opposing, but the message was clear. People were not happy and they didn’t want this to happen again. And yet Chaekyung was still successfully torn to shreds.

People spammed unflattering pictures of her under her tweets, flooded her DMs, and made countless tweets of their own trashing her and condemning anyone that supported her. If you defended her you better hope your account was private. It was the type of relentless attack that you could only gawk at in horror as she posts screenshots and begs for someone to step in. For one reason or another, no one did. They stepped back and hoped she had loving people around her offline.

Even with a temporary roommate and boyfriend, your house is still empty most of the time. Taeyong is busy dealing with the aftermath of the group chat leak. The people involved are still up in the air and some people have even started to accuse you. It’s a minuscule minority, but they cite your silence on the situation as suspicious. You and Johnny both have yet to say anything. In a painfully familiar instance, a couple of twitter users accuse you of protecting YangYang. But things are going well for you right now.

So you exit twitter.

Johnny, on the other hand, slips out early in the morning and comes back when you’re already asleep. The only time you see him is when you catch glimpses of him leaving. It can’t be comfortable on your couch and he couldn’t be sleeping that much with such an insane schedule. You don’t go to sleep early. He must be coming back around 2 am.

While you’re deep in thought, someone walks through the door. “Hey.” Taeyong ruffles your hair as he walks past you. “Productive day?” He asks, peering back for a moment before reaching for the half empty coffee pot.

With a stupid smile plastered on your face, you shrug. “Um… not really. I don’t stream today so I just sat around.”

Taeyong pours himself a glass before taking a sip. “Do you remember what we talked about?”

You gasp, you had completely forgotten. Looking down, you clench the mug of coffee you’d been nursing. Maybe it was for the best you didn’t remember. You nip at the dead skin on your lip. “Well, I remember now.”

“You should consider it.” Taeyong sets a hand on your shoulder. “It’ll be good for you.”

“I don’t know, Tae. Everything is already going great…”

“I know you saw those tweets, right?”

Your hand loosens on the mug as you swallow. “What, the ones accusing me? It’s insubstantial.” You say in a strange attempt to appeal to him, “And there are only three or so tweets.”

“I’m sure you noticed the most popular one has five thousand likes. Sure, it’s not like it’s ten thousand or a hundred thousand, but that could change.”

It was easy to ignore the amount of likes, you just closed twitter and forcibly forgot about it. Now he was making it impossible to ignore. The concern over this situation started to merge with your concern over Naeun. That’s neglecting to factor in Johnny living with you. You feel trapped.

“If I do a little digging, I’m sure I can find some girls included in the group chat. Getting those girls to come out against YangYang and forming a new group with them would be huge for you.” He places his mug on the table, standing close enough that you can feel heat radiating off his body.

“I already have a group, though. Making another group when I just got into one seems a bit strange.” You do it again, responding to him to try and appease him. In his presence, you start to doubt your thought process tenfold.

“Yes, but are you really a Dreamie? Do you really want to be seen as a guest star for the rest of your career? Or worse…” Taeyong pauses to slip his phone out of his pocket. His screen is presented to you, showing an equally popular tweet.

‘Does anyone else feel like ___ is leeching off of the boys’ fame? She left before anything even happened in Taeyong’s group. Maybe she thought they weren’t popular enough for her.’

You take the phone into your grasp. The replies and quote tweets were insane, the combined amount nearly outnumbering the likes. Looking through them was like getting whiplash. Some people were defending you, citing your appearance on that podcast and the fact that Mark backs your story to explain things. Others confirm they’ve had this suspicion as well. The most baffling aspect was that each side was equally popular. There was no domineering opinion. Even the arguments were neck in neck with likes.

You pass the phone back to him with a shaky exhale. “I’ll think about it.”

Taeyong presents you with a tight smile. “You should do that.”

“We can get it under control.” Jeno states sternly. You wave him off. “No, this is my mess. I’ll handle it.”

“It’s our fans causing a ruckus, we’re partly responsible.” Chenle adds nervously.

“Let’s be honest it’s mostly Donghyuck’s crazy ass fans.” Jaemin pipes up and incites chaos.

“How is this my fault?”

“No one said it was your fault, Hyuck.” Mark tries but all of the boys shout over each other. It’s impossible to form a rational thought. Mark’s shouting for them to be quiet isn’t making it any better. You could just leave, it’s a possibility that was always on the table, just taunting you. Sure, you were skilled, but that doesn’t mean you should be a popular streamer. This career path was far-fetched to begin with. You sit stiffly on Mark’s recliner, watching as the tight-knit group of boys quarrel over your situation.

Unable to handle the noise overwhelming your thoughts, you stand from the chair. You mumble an apology as you head for the front door. Mark calls after you before following you out of his house.

“What’s wrong?” Mark is immediately attentive. The worry tugging at his brows makes your heart ache. Mark was the only constant throughout this entire debacle. Always checking in on you, being the sweetest person on Earth, and most importantly, sticking up for you.

“God, Mark. I’m so sorry for snapping at you after the podcast.” You shake your head.

“You were right, though. I should’ve spoken up sooner.”

“But if we switched places, I probably would’ve done that same thing. It was scary!” Your laugh contrasts the tears springing to your eyes. “You’re too nice to me. On top of everything, you invite me into the Dreamies and look at what I did.” You gesture to the door, where the bickering started to pick back up.

“This always happens at some point. It’s normal.” Mark chuckles before staring somberly at your wet eyes.

“It sucks that you feel like a burden for trying to heal.” Your eyes flicker toward him and he holds your gaze.

His words linger in your mind long after he says them. The two of you stare quietly at the sunset, feeling the temperature shift ever so slightly cooler. “Taeyong told me about the idea he has for you.” You nod, waiting for him to shoot it down.

“I think it’s a good idea.”

Your eyes slowly move from the darkening sky to Mark’s smile. “Really?”

“It’s not his group, so he won’t invite Johnny or any other shitty people. I like Taeyong but he really has a knack for finding some terrible people.” You both laugh. “Except for you of course.” He glances at you with his eyebrows raised. “I’m happy for the two of you.”

“Thank you.”

This conversation awakens the same strange emotion you have had around Jisoo and Jungwoo lately. Jungwoo has taken your sexual breakup well, a little too well. They haven’t ripped you a new one for letting Johnny crash on your couch. They’ve also, though tentatively, supported your relationship with Taeyong. As your gaze lowers from the sunset, you think back on how they get when you mention Taeyong. For some strange reason, that’s the aspect they seem most openly uneasy about.

That doesn’t make you feel the overwhelming support any less. Mark is just a sweetheart to a sickening degree but that strange emotion still remains. Even Mark had his moments of trying to warn you about the people in your life. Now everyone is strangely quiet. There are not many people telling you how to navigate these choices you have to make.

“Are you happy now?”

With a sharp inhale Johnny is awake again. To his dismay, he is again greeted by your scent and likeness as soon as he wakes up. Your jacket is draped over the back of the couch, drenched in your favorite perfume. Why he turns to look at the picture of you, he never understands. He swallows thickly, trying to quell the sickening feeling waking up under your roof gives him as he searches haphazardly for his phone.

The time reads 4 am. He locks his phone and tosses it on the table. He barely sleeps anymore. How could he when those nightmares were back with a vengeance? Every time he blinks he sees your shattered skull, so he keeps his eyes open until the sharp stinging pricks them closed. He needs to get out of here.

Walking aimlessly into the crisp early morning air helps him breathe freer. It also helps quell some of the nausea from his hangover. With a deep inhale, he fills his lungs with clean air. There’s a lounge eight minutes away that opens earlier than the other bars and lounges in the area. When it does, he’ll be able to silence the voice in his brain making him feel guilty.

But then he’s back under your roof.

First you use fond memories to make yourself feel better. Then you let her soothe you that night. Now you’re living on her couch.

“It’s shameful.” He finishes the guilt trip aloud before his head can.

“What’s shameful?”

For the first time since he’d woken up, Johnny felt fully alert as he heard Taeyong’s voice. He glances over at him as he peacefully drinks coffee. He unlocks his phone again to check the time. 6 am.

Knowing he wasn’t going to answer, Taeyong just asks another question. “Been talking to her much?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Johnny grunts. “You were there. She made it clear that she didn’t want to be friends anymore.” It seemed like he was rubbing salt in the wound.

“I see.” Taeyong takes a long slurp of his coffee before setting it carefully onto the polished wood. “I’m dissolving the group.”

So all that “conversation” was just his clumsy way of smoothing the path to his news. Johnny figured as much, Nayeon is gone and Mark sure as hell isn’t coming back. Like Taeyong said, he could very easily persuade you to come back one way or another, but three wasn’t enough. All that was left of the group he spent his formative years in were tainted memories and burned bridges. Which brings Johnny to the man sitting at your dining room table. It’s been a very long time since Johnny could say he liked the guy.

“I guess I’ll be seeing you often, at least until I’m back on my feet.”

“And when is that exactly?” Taeyong turns to face the taller man from his seat, squinting as he awaits his answer. Johnny frowns at his unsuspected jab. That’s one thing Johnny didn’t take into account, if Taeyong liked him.

“I’m trying my best.”

“Well don’t take this the wrong way, but could you try a little harder? I’m her boyfriend now so forgive me if I’m a little put off by you being around her. Besides, you probably feel out of place around us. Considering I’m “just as much of a little bitch as she is”.”

Overwhelming embarrassment and shame twist Johnny’s features. “I said a lot of things I didn’t really mean.”

“Do you really think matters, whether you meant it or not? You still hurt her.”

“Taeyong please,” Johnny starts getting pissed off from his increasingly apparent hypocrisy. “let’s be real for a second. You’ve been stringing her along until she was useful to you.”

“Do you think that makes us comparable?” Taeyong laughs, not refuting his accusation. “You wanna be real? Let’s be real. You treated her like utter garbage for years and trashed her self-esteem probably for good.” Johnny visibly winces at that bitter truth. The only time you really get dressed up are very rare instances, and even then it’s relatively tame. You always used to dress up in middle and high school. You didn’t even let your bullies pressure you out of it. But Johnny did the trick.

“Now you’re sleeping on her couch while you barely even speak to the woman. No ‘hello’ or ‘thank you’, just leaving and coming back to sleep like it’s a hotel. You should be waiting on her hand and foot and you haven’t even picked up a broom.”

“I get it, I know! I think about it every night before I go to sleep.” Johnny vents, his breathing rapid before he lets out an exasperated sigh.

“If you get it then read the room. I can tell you have the urge to act on some selfish sense of a savior complex suddenly, just save it.” Though Taeyong’s expression is stern, it’s nowhere close to that day he kicked Lucas, Doyoung, and YangYang out. There’s no real passion behind his words. However, there’s a ton of truth, whether Johnny likes it or not.

“You owe it to her to leave her be.”

The two men stare each other down. Johnny knows there was so much left unsaid, such as his dubious motives. He has expressed on multiple occasions that he doesn’t like being around you. He basically called you a nuisance not long before he dumped Nayeon in favor of you. But was it Johnny’s place?

Your bedroom door creeks open slowly before you appear behind it, scrubbing at your eyes. “What’s going on? It’s six in the morning.” Your shirt lifts as you stretch, showing your upper thighs. Johnny snaps his head away, eyes frantically moving around the room but looking at nothing.

“Don’t worry about it. Go back to bed.” Taeyong murmurs, turning his head slightly. You stay rooted in your spot, grogginess clearing up as you chew on your lip.

“Johnny?”

He glances at Taeyong who shoots him one last stern look. “I was just leaving and ran into him. We were having a conversation, that’s all.” Johnny assures you.

“Leaving?” You look between both men confusedly. “You’re okay with going home?”

“Yeah, thanks for letting me stay here. You really didn’t have to do that.” He slowly pans his gaze on you, only holding it for a second before looking at the floor. “Goodbye.” This time it was truly final. There’s nothing tying them to each other anymore. He’d probably live out in his car for as long as he can take it. After a while, would he accept defeat and go crawling back to his parent’s house? The thought makes him involuntarily grimace.

“Don’t leave.” It’s more of a command than a request. You make your way toward him, eyes trained on him even as Taeyong tells you to let him go. “He wants to leave.” When you reach him, you crane your head high as you really study his face.

“How many years has it been since we’ve known each other? You really think I don’t know when you’re lying?” The tightness of your jaw and apprehension hanging off every word wipe any playfulness that could be interpreted away. Every time the two of you speak there’s this undeniable weight that never goes away. Johnny’s not even sure when it got there.

“I’m fine. I’m a grown man.”

“I saw you after you got home and fell asleep. I could smell the alcohol, Johnny.” His previous statement seemed to annoy you somehow. “You only got three hours of sleep. And you’re starting to look like a lumberjack- just come back and lay down for a few more hours.”

“I have overstayed my welcome considerably. I should’ve left the day Jaehyun did.” Johnny states firmly. This is the first time in a long time the two of them were able to have a mostly regular conversation. Looking at you with your eyebrows drawn together atop your wide eyes swimming in worry, he feared he might do something stupid.

“Says who?”

“Says me. It was selfish of me to stay here.” He turns to leave but stops when he feels your hands around his forearm. Your stare falters when he looks back at you.

“If you don’t want to be selfish… you could help me out. I’m gonna get busier in the coming months and could use some help around the house.”

Your fingertips are hot against his skin. He felt they might actually singe him. But Johnny didn’t pull away. “You don’t have any friends that could help?”

“Not any that owe me.” You cock an eyebrow up. Johnny takes a second to appreciate the atmosphere that actually started to feel lighter.

“Okay, fine. But when I’m actually able to leave, I’ll do so.” A small smile flickers onto his face, fizzling out soon after.

“We’ve got a deal then.” You pull your hands away and Johnny instantly feels your pacifying effect on him wear off. “Come sleep in my bed.”

Johnny’s face goes red hot in a matter of seconds, eyes blowing wide as he stammers. “Don’t be stupid, I’m sleeping on the couch. You’ll need the rest if you’re helping me.” You narrow your eyes at him before you seemingly catch yourself after registering his troubled expression. “S-sorry I shouldn’t have called you stupid.” You lower your head, actions mirroring the night you told him he was as bad as Hyuna and Hyojong.

“Please don’t be sorry-”

The two of you flinch at the sound of glass shattering against the bowl of your sink. “Shit, sorry.” Taeyong lifts his head to look blankly at you and Johnny. “Are the two of you done?”

You look just as bewildered as he does in that moment, but you’re looking at Taeyong apologetically. “We are.” You reply, strangely eager.

Letting Johnny sleep in your bed was supposed to help him sleep better, but it wasn’t helping one bit. He was now completely surrounded by your scent. Was he hallucinating or was the mattress still warm from when you were here? He shouldn’t even be thinking about that. It’s hard to keep his thoughts clear in this situation.

Eventually, it gets the best of him. He promised he’d stop using memories of you soothing him or the thought of your smile to placate his anxiety, but that was near impossible right now. Johnny takes in a trembling breath, hesitantly inhaling your scent until it’s swirling in his lungs, and prepares for another nightmare.

Except, it isn’t a nightmare. He’s sitting in bed with you. It’s morning time, the sun blankets the room in a heavenly glow. You have only a t-shirt on like you did moments ago, only it’s fully white now. You smile at him and he finds himself smiling back. You continue to smile as you place both hands on either side of his head and angle his head down. Your legs are crossed and he can see your plain white underwear. His breath hitches but he doesn’t move a muscle. One of your hands glide down your torso until it reaches your underwear, yet his head is still securely held in place. He watches breathlessly as your fingers stimulate your clit through the cloth. His mouth is dry, incredibly uncomfortably dry.

“Johnny!” You gasp. He feels the soft meat of your thighs before he even registers his hands are there. He kneads the flesh, his crotch thrumming with hot pleasure. Johnny is lost in the feeling of your flawless, plush skin under his coarse fingertips when he hears you say something. “Hm?”

You giggle. “I said are you really going through with this?”

Johnny’s blood immediately runs cold upon hearing those words again. Suddenly Johnny’s head is free, giving him the opportunity to see your face again. Except, there is no face to see. Blood cascades down your throat like a haunting necklace from your crushed brain.

The sight jolts Johnny awake like it always does. His brain could never quite get past it anymore, it’s something he thanks his brain for immensely.

Maybe the couch was uncomfortable. Or you just stayed up the entire morning overthinking your decision. Especially with how standoffish Taeyong was before he left. You carefully pick the large pieces of glass from the sink and drop them in your garbage can. You huff, setting your hands on your hips as you take in all of the smaller pieces. Should you vacuum them? Resorting to google, you learn glass can ruin your garbage disposal.

“Great.” You mutter before groaning at the mess that still remained.

As advised, you pick out any pieces big enough to grab with tongs. By the time you were finished, your fingers were cramping from holding the damn things, so you pick up any left on the surface with your fingers. “Stupid fucking-”

You let out a drawn out hiss as you snatch your hand away from the sink. One of the shattered pieces sported an edge so thin it sliced through your finger like butter. You close your hand around your index finger, trying to dull the deep throb that started. As you exhale you feel contempt bubbling up inside you. As it surfaces it shifts to a pitiful, bitter feeling of defeat. You collapse onto the dining room chair as hot tears gush down your face. You bite your lip to stifle any sobs. With Johnny and Taeyong both here constantly, you felt so critical of everything you did.

You were tired, all you wanted to do was just… be. Now you have a whole list of shit to worry about. You have no one to blame but yourself for feeling trapped. All because of the younger version of you that gets weak seeing Johnny suffer. Weak, soft, pathetic.

The sound of your door opening makes you shoot up from the chair, wiping your tears away. You sniffle and reach for another mug as if that’s what you were doing this whole time. You can see him in your peripheral, his towering height only serving to make him stand out more.

“Good morn-”

“Can you help me out with this glass?” You refrain from sniffling again. If you can read him like a book from subtle facial expressions, there’s no way he couldn’t pick up that you were crying.

“Sure.” He shuffles over, examining the mess Taeyong left. He opens his mouth to reem the guy for it but decides against it.

“Is there a lot in the garbage disposal?”

“No… I uh, I got most of it.”

“Hm,” Johnny starts clearing the basin with his hands. He notices your bloody finger but he also notices that you’re trying to hide it. And yes, he does notice you side-eyeing him after he looked at your finger, so he pretends he didn’t see a thing.

You still had nothing but that goddamn shirt on. No amount of bluffing could ever fool his body into not being attracted to you. Even when he was being an asshole to you. But he hadn’t been around you enough recently to have to deal with it, so perhaps he was a little rusty at suppressing it. He desperately needed to get it under control because underneath the titillation was a seedy and foreboding feeling that frankly horrified him. Every pang of arousal felt so utterly wrong.

“I’ve been putting off laundry for too long, could you do it for me? Please try not to mix up our clothes.” The awkwardness you felt after ordering him around was instantaneous. You should just ask him to leave. What was he going to do, refuse? Sure he could rip you a new one for switching up but then he’d be gone. You’ve gotten through it before.

“Of course. If there’s anything else you need, let me know.”

You should be relieved that he didn’t seem offended, but you were relieved for an entirely different reason. He moseyed off, finishing the laundry and even folding them. He wasted no time coming back to check for another task. Didn’t even stop to play on his phone, eat, or watch tv. Little do you know it was a welcome distraction for Johnny.

Being in his own house, he could only see all the anguish he caused in every room. When he made you cry on the couch, dumped water on you while you slept in his bed, called you a pig when you looked for a snack in his fridge, and of course the wall. But his house kept him busy. Plant upkeep was very efficient at dulling his incessant thoughts. The ones asking him what the fuck he was even doing. With everything crumbling around him they only got louder.

“I don’t have anything else for you to do,” Johnny did a good job at masking his disappointment as he nodded and started away, “but that doesn’t mean you have to leave, either.” You turn around completely from your computer. You drop your gaze once you realize how desperate that sounded.

“I know, I just don’t want to intrude. You letting me sleep on your couch– and bed– was gracious enough, I don’t wanna lounge around or eat up your food.”

“It’s fine, I’m gonna be in here for a while anyway.”

Even before things started to fall apart, his life started to feel so formulaic and suffocating. Taking care of his flowers was the only thing that broke up the growing mundanity. He’d wake up, eat, sit around his house with friends, and then stream later that night. Then he’d just eat again and go to sleep. He had the privilege of being able to play games as a career, but still felt that same blanket of fog as if he were working a regular dead-end job. It made him really reflect on if he actually liked streaming and why he was still doing it.

Being closer to you without all the noise made it clear. Besides the not-so-clean thoughts, it felt comfortable to be in your presence. Even though you don’t look at him the way you used to and he can still sense how apprehensive you are around him, he still can’t help wanting to be around you. Even if it’s extremely awkward most of the time. He enjoyed all your little facial expressions when you reacted to things, how adorable you looked when you were focusing– and even though he hated seeing or knowing you were crying– he loved how puffy and glassy your eyes got afterward. He started streaming to stay around you.

But it was bittersweet, because not only couldn’t he interact with you like in school, but he didn’t deserve to. He barely deserved to be around you this much. While being around you more meant witnessing all the things that made him love you despite it all, it also made him face how he changed you head on. So he dusted, wiped down, and reorganized your entertainment center to keep himself busy. He’s setting the final item back on one of the shelves when your door opens, the photo of you and your two friends.

“What the hell Johnny…”

Johnny takes a step away from his work to slightly turn toward you, keeping his eyes on the picture. “I got a little carried away, perhaps.”

“No it’s…” You walk closer with your hands on your hips. “Huh. It’s a different color now I think.”

Johnny chuckles. “There was a thick layer of dust.”

You sigh and clench your eyes shut. “Don’t feel pressured to clean up for me. I shouldn’t have been ordering you around in the first place.”

“I shouldn’t be here in the first place.” Johnny corrects, onsetting a bitter silence he didn’t intend to. How long were the two of you going to go back and forth about this?

“But you are.” You pipe up, raising your eyebrows at him with a tight smile. “Because I asked you to be, so let’s just drop it.”

Every conversation crashed into a impenetrable wall. You couldn’t help it when a part of you found it inexcusable that you let him stay. And he couldn’t bypass his guilt. Every time you looked at each other, the first thing you remember are the bad times. If it’s not Johnny’s berating it’s the two times you went at it after you left. Neither of you knew if this was temporary or if your relationship was irreparably damaged.

Only time would tell.

For now, Johnny sneaks into your room after the sun had set, curling the object within his palm. He freezes when he feels something plush under his feet. He uses his free hand to flash his phone at the floor. There was a floor mattress with an extra comforter and one of your pillows atop it. He looks at your sleeping figure as if you’d answer the questions on his mind.

That just didn’t feel right, so he stepped over the sleeping pad to resume what he originally had in mind. When the sun shined in your eyes that morning you could feel something strange about the finger your cut was on. You had forgotten to properly treat it. After your meeting you got too busy and forgot about it since it stopped bleeding.

You raise it in front of your squinted eyes to see a bandaid had been secured around your finger. You push air out your nose with a half smile before looking down at the mattress. Your smile flickers away upon seeing it’s empty.

“I heard about your meeting.” Taeyong remarks, his phone keeping him preoccupied. “The marketing agency is very interested, they’re treating you as a high priority.”

“Really? That’s a relief.” In the grand scheme of things, it was a feather being lifted from everything that had been weighing on you, but it was still something.

“You did a good job.” Taeyong states as if it’s obvious. “That’s the thing, if you put the work in you’ll experience more fruitful endeavors.” He looks up, and you can’t tell if he does that to gauge your reaction or drive home how important his words are. Because you notice how little he looks at you since you’ve started dating. How fleeting his touch is.

“I already have one girl readying her statement against YangYang. That will definitely bring a lot of eyes so the timing has to be perfect. Maybe her statement will inspire more girls to come forward, which would make my job easier,” He lets out a short laugh. You wince at how easily and nonchalantly he speaks about this situation.

“But for now we’re really counting on you. Right when Chaeyoung makes her statement, you have to have yours ready as well. That’ll lay down the foundation before we reveal our plans for the group chat, hopefully make it seem more organic.”

Speaking out was something you forcibly put on the back burner. It was seemingly biting you in the ass more and more the longer you stay silent. There’s a mountain of guilt that comes packaged with not speaking out, but the uncertainty of it all makes it seem worth it. There’s a chance Chaeyong’s statement will be met with a poor response. Sure, people are mostly pro-Naeun and anti-group chat makers/members, but it just takes the right amount of passionate people to derail everything. Others who oppose will get scared off by the overwhelming majority, morally grey people will bandwagon. And all this for your group.

“You’re thinking too much, I can tell. You see what’s happening because you’re still not saying anything, right?”

You feel dread in your bones as he readies the post before turning his phone to you. The tweet he had shown you in your kitchen has now garnered eleven thousand likes. You take a deep breath and look away, not interested in seeing the replies. There’s no way the majority isn’t against you.

“If you come out against YangYang, not only will people stop speculating your involvement with or knowledge of the group chat, but they’ll have a more concrete reason that you left. I guarantee you tweets like this will be wiped out.” He finally pulls the phone away and you release a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“It doesn’t have to be complicated. Just think about it-”

“Oh my god, hi?” A trembling voice sounds beside you. You squint up at the figure ducked under the table umbrella. “I’m a huge fan of you guys! I’ve been rooting for you two since the old group first started. Can I take a picture?”

You happily pose for the picture with the fan, releasing a soft exhale through your nose when reminded of the other ship. The discourse around you was a turf war between people who ship you with Mark and people who ship you with Taeyong. That’s not even mentioning the Dreamie ships you disrupted by joining the group. With you and Mark, people conjured up tales of you guys being the closest no matter what group you were in and becoming lovers. With Taeyong it was deeper.

Apparently, the two of you suppressed your love when he got with Nayeon, and then when you left the group his pain was too much to bear. So he broke up with Nayeon and swept you off your feet. Every fantasy your fans shared was like a peek into your dreams. It felt nice to detach from reality for a moment and get lost in them.

“We can’t, Taeyong.” You force the words out. It pained you to say them.

“Why not?!” He grabbed you by your shoulders and shook you, freeing the tears that had been threatening to break free since you first laid eyes on him.

“Because of Nayeon!” You break down, falling to your knees as the sorrow fully blooms in your chest. He follows you, cradling you in his arms.

“We don’t have to worry about her anymore.”

You look up at him through your dewy lashes and he just smiles warmly.

Reading it was pure torture. Sure it was dramatic but it’s what you craved from him so that’s not what bothered you. Reading this made the nature of your actual relationship so much more apparent. And the fact that it barely changed from when you were friends. Thinking about the first time you met Nayeon made your heart wilt. He was so chivalrous with the toothpick incident but other than that it’s always been… dry.

He saw you bleed and barely had any reaction. In fact, he had no problem letting you use tape to dress your wound. All so his beautiful girlfriend could have her tiny cut properly treated. The bandaid around your index finger seems tighter all of a sudden, drawing your attention to it.

The morning after he’d done it, he didn’t address it. To be fair, you didn’t ask him why he didn’t sleep on the bed you left him if he saw it. Still, it was the most ‘Johnny’ thing he’d done in years. Now he was probably quiet about it to not push your relationship, but back then he was so embarrassed by everything. You couldn’t do anything for him and he couldn’t do anything for you without him blushing fiercely. That poor boy would blast off if he conducted any more heat. You smile to yourself, twisting your hand as you gaze fondly at the bandage.

When it came to helping the other in a dire time of need, there was no embarrassment. There was only a mutual understanding to be there for each other. As your memories get heavier, picturing him at his lowest, your smile fades. You set your hand down.

Johnny was having to do a lot of chores without you asking lately. You even started asking him to stop.

“I can wash the dishes, you don’t have to do that. You don’t even eat here.” You say, taking the plate from his hand.

He had already swept and mopped the floors, scrubbed the walls, cleaned out the fridge, and cleaned the bathroom “You haven’t given me another task and I wanted to help out.” Johnny trails off as he shrugs.

“You’ve helped plenty, the house is basically sparkling now. Thank you.” It doesn’t sound much like an expression of gratitude as you shoo him from the kitchen.

Feeling like a freeloader and wanting to preoccupy his mind, his upkeep of your home doesn’t cease. You’re starting to get warm, folded laundry on your bed every week now. You never have to wash off a dish to eat. A speck of dust couldn’t even think to form.

“Oh my god– Johnny!” You call for him and he peers out of the bathroom. “Get out of there!”

“It’s fine! I’m almost done.” He disappears back behind the door. You open your mouth to yell but close it with an extended sigh.

“I don’t want you to be my maid, I’m not even asking you to do this so why…?”

Johnny reappears, eyes not connecting with yours as he takes his gloves off. “I really don’t have anything else to do at the moment. It’s either the bar or this, and I’m sick of the headaches.”

Now that he mentions it, you haven’t been smelling alcohol on him recently. “Okay, if cleaning is really what you want to do, I concede.” You throw your arms up in mock surrender. It wasn’t totally a lie. He really didn’t have anything else to do. He was still debating on whether or not to continue streaming or look for a different job. If he really was moving back with his parents, it was definitely the latter. But it’s mostly because when he’s drunk, he says stupid things. And he misses out on coherent conversations with you. They’re getting less awkward and slightly more frequent. It’s mostly just you scolding him for going too far on the cleaning or complaining about the strong smell of bleach, but it’s a start.

“Thank you…” He nods before returning to your bathroom. You watch him, trying to conceal how apprehensive you are.

There was something still nagging at you to stop him. You told yourself you didn’t want him to feel obligated. And feeling like you were bossing him around also sucked. But with every grimace he made at a strong smell, every curse he muttered when he dropped something, or any sign of displeasure, you felt panic set in. You realized you started to grit your teeth and shrink slightly, preparing yourself for him to blow up on you.

You find yourself glancing at the spot on your wall he punched. With time you guys could stay stagnant, maybe by some stroke of luck you’ll go back to normal, but there’s also a chance for your relationship to spoil further. In the coming weeks, you monitor him, waiting for a sign of what’s to come.

Johnny plops down on your sofa after cleaning your windows. He had made a comment about stubborn dirt in the crevices of your window seal, and now he looks extra spent. “I stopped drinking for the headaches, but I’m starting to get a headache from the chemicals.” He murmurs breathlessly.

You nervously make your way over to his bucket of supplies and lift them from the table. Johnny’s eyes fall to the table, which the bucket left a ring on. “Oh! Let me see that for a sec,” He shoots up from the couch and you move the bucket away.

“I can do it!” You accidentally shout, wincing after the fact. “I pretty much have a day off today anyway, and it’s just a little ring.”

“Exactly, so let me get rid of it real quick and the rest of the chores are yours.” He assures. You take a minute to look at your house which looked like no one lived in it. Someone would think you just bought it from the world’s most anal real estate agent. You tuck the bucket into one arm.

“You’ve done so much already,” Again the two of you find yourselves having this same back and forth. You sigh, closing your eyes only to open them when his figure blocks out the light. He sets a gentle hand on the bucket.

“It’s your day off, you should be resting.” He states quietly. The dull thuds of your heart hammering against your ribcage fill your ears.

“Here, hit me right here.”

You attempt to retreat from him like a wounded dog backed into a corner. He feels his mild confusion shift to dread when he realizes what’s going on. Suddenly he’s back in his own living room, standing over your figure on the couch. You’re staring up at him with that same glint of fear and mistrust.

You gasp loudly when he grabs your wrist. The feeling of him tugging it higher makes you shriek and drop the bucket to the ground. You cower away from him, tucking your head into your shoulder. Your reaction shakes him, but he remains steadfast. He clenches his eyes shut and cocks your hand back before striking across his own face.

You untense slightly, turning your head to face him. He’s heaving, hair slightly mussed. He gives you an emphatic look. “Ball your fist.”

“Johnny- no!” You snatch your arm away, the deranged moment only becoming less sane when the loss of his touch makes your heart fall.

Johnny takes a step back, taking a minute to gain the courage to look at you again. “I hate that you’re afraid of what I’ll do to you.” He tries to blink away the tears but they trickle from his eyes regardless. He curses under his breath. He wasn’t ready to look so soft around you. “Even that day, if you had slapped me I probably would’ve cried in front of everyone before I ever laid a hand on you. I hate that I made you feel this way.” He winces as he replays you cowering away from him and the sound of the bucket clattering to the floor in his mind.

Your hand still stings but all you can think about is how it must feel for him. Maybe you’re just an idiot and this is some game you’re falling for, but you give up on trying to figure it out. “For now I can’t help it, but that can change.”

His glassy eyes inspect your expression as he pores over your words. Feeling spontaneous, you reach your hand up and caress his face. He immediately melts into your touch and you could break down at the sight. Guilt gnaws harder at you, grilling you on why you haven’t been there for him. All your heart sees now is the kid you cried fountains for and with. Another part reminds you of how you got here and you pull away.

“But I can revert even faster.” You warn. Johnny sniffles before nodding and staring at you blankly. Of course, what was he doing? Nuzzling into your hand like a puppy. He clears his throat and shakes his head. “No, you’re right. I’m s-”

“But don’t apologize! If we’re going to coexist we need to be more upfront and honest with each other, or else we’ll just go in circles.” You pick the bucket back up again and regard him with a steady stare. Johnny straightens up and wipes away any moisture left in his eyes.

“No apologizing and be more upfront, got it.”

“Chaeyoung is about ready to post her side of the story, so do you have your statement ready? Let me see it.” Taeyong is antsier by the day. You only see him when you’re talking about the group. He leans over his dining room table in anticipation of you whipping out your phone. You clench your eyes shut. “Taeyong, I haven’t written it.”

“What?! I mean, do you need me to write it for you? Because I can. I just thought you’d be able to do one thing.” Taeyong settles back into his seat as he mutters the last part. It felt like everyone was pushing you about this damn statement. All Jisoo and Jungwoo do is politely ask you about it and you can just hear it in their voices. ‘You still haven’t done it?’

Naeun is only here in spirit and yet it’s like she’s screaming at you. You’re causing more damage to her career and in turn her mental health the longer you wait. And now you’re gonna leave Chaeyong, someone who actually has pictures to worry over, to fend for herself.

“I’m… I’m gonna do it, it’s just that this is more than a PR move for me, you have to know that.” You argue, exasperated over your own loaded thoughts.

“It can be both, you know that right? That’s what Chaeyoung is doing. You can honor the weight of the situation while giving your image a boost. The Earth won’t implode.” His words ooze with ridicule and it stings bad. You roll your tongue inside your mouth, nodding as you let the pain fester.

“Is that all you think this is? Me trying to “honor the weight of the situation”?”

“I think you feel obligated to do the right thing all the time.” He meets your exasperation with infuriatingly calm patronization. You were staying quiet for personal reasons, in fact, your selfishness in this situation is what’s ripping you apart. He has no clue what he’s talking about and yet he speaks to you as if he can read your mind. You open your mouth but he beats you to the punch. “You’re not saving people by doing something so insignificant.”

“Then why do it at all? If it’s so insignificant?”

“Because it’ll stop the oncoming attack you’re in for. How many times do I have to spell it out for you? The people campaigning against you are growing. Your first mistake was joining a group with such an entitled fanbase.”

“Joining Mark’s group was the best thing to ever happen to me.” You clench your fists, wanting to stand up and storm out but you just bottle it up. You should be saying that about him, but even now he’s barely looking at you outside of annoyed glances.

“When you want to help stop your reputation from being ruined, come talk to me.” He calmly asks you to leave his home, says he has work to do.

“We can’t…” All that anger gets swept away from his request for you to leave. You haven’t even tried asking him. You just assumed he would say no, but he’s your boyfriend. “We can’t just hang out? I don’t know… cuddle or something…”

“You know how busy I am.” He gives you that look that’s like a silent suggestion to rethink what you just said. You can’t help but feel a little guilty. At the end of the day, he’s doing this all for you. All so you can have a career that feels like your own. He’s even helping you get the growing hate under control. And you had the nerve to snap on him and think about storming out.

“I’m sorry.” You follow his instruction to leave and stand outside of his door for a moment. You need a moment to unpack your swarming thoughts. Speaking out for your own reputation is as phony and selfish as can be, but it’s no different from what you’ve been doing anyway. You’re risking being seen as selfish either way. The only person close to being in the same boat as you is Chaeyoung, and she’s in a much scarier boat.

Maybe Taeyong is right and you should toughen up. It’s advice you’d given to yourself time and time again.

Mini dresses, fringe or tassels, lace, and cutouts. They were all listed as predictions for next year's trends. They’re also a description of your closet currently, even at the beginning of the year. To be fair, the amount of range your closer has could include last year’s to the next decade’s trends. Looking on Tumblr or Pinterest and the most popular runway or everyday fashion looks made you excited. You could probably recreate them almost perfectly if you wanted to. And you did. But you couldn’t.

The designer black dress in your hands still had that ‘new smell’ to it. Soon enough it’d be overtaken by the smell of your closet, not drenched in your natural scent or favorite perfume. You coast your fingers along the fabric, the smoothness of the mulberry silk interrupted by slightly coarse lace. On the site, there were beautiful thin but toned women adorned in the dress showcased to taunt you. Inviting you to follow the Instagram page to taunt you even further. More than the Tumblr and Pinterest posts already do.

Sometimes you make it far enough with your rose-tinted glasses to try them on and look in the mirror. Sometimes they don’t fit and you feel relieved, more justified for putting a hole in your wallet and still not wearing them. But no. The black dress fits like a glove. It accentuates your figure, giving the illusion of an hourglass shape. Where could you even wear this, though? It was strapless, very short, and flared out on the sides. It seemed too flashy for a club, right? And you weren’t going to wear it to a museum or something. You don’t even go to those anyway. It would be a mistake to step out of the house in this, letting yourself be perceived by everyone. You’d be asking to be judged.

Wearing jeans and a t-shirt or a sweater or a jacket or a coat was like cloaking yourself. People are still nosy but less likely to hyper-focus on you and question your methods of covering your naked body.

But you stand there, staring a hole into your dress through the mirror. You gnaw at the inside of your cheek feeling that contempt from when you cut your finger resurfacing. You paid four hundred for this. It fits like a glove.

Oftentimes you think about tweets made by the women you follow. Just slightly more attractive to you than you perceive yourself.

They’d show off just the most over-the-top outfit with so many accessories it covered more skin than the actual clothes. Sometimes they’d wear the most revealing clothes you’d ever seen, making your jaw drop. The caption accompanying the pictures would be something like ‘putting on a fashion show for my neighbors’ or ‘about to go get groceries’. Every time you’d think to yourself these people are ridiculous.

But you liked the tweets. You followed them. Left lovely comments encouraging them and got silently angry at the naysayers. Even so, there was still a voice in your mind reminding you that these actions were illogical. It was fun to engage online but never to imitate in real life. Naeun would probably laugh if she saw you in this. That was reality, you told yourself.

But as you look at yourself in the mirror, the tweets come to mind, fueling you to leave the dress on. I should do my makeup too.

You weren’t going anywhere, and if people were in the room with you they’d surely point that out, but it was thrilling. As you pat the velvety foundation onto your skin you felt a rush. You even put on the lace gloves that reached your elbow. By the time you look in the mirror again, you had strappy heels on and your hair styled. Your makeup skills were a little rusty, but your heart swelled when you looked in the mirror.

You pose like the models on the site, like the models on the runway, like users on Twitter and Tumblr. Snap, snap, snap. There’s a wall of pictures of you in your camera roll. Pictures of you that were separated by a lengthy scroll of other things before you could reach the last picture of you. And you only deleted four out of the lineup.

You load the pictures into Twitter, ready to post your four favorites when you stop. You analyze the pictures again, removing one from the tweet, replacing it, then removing that one. Ultimately you opt not to tweet the pictures. Your Tumblr had a fraction of the audience of your Twitter and the user base scared you less. So you post your original four there before you could second guess yourself. You squeal as you hit ‘Post’, tossing the phone afterward. The pings were few and far in between but they still made your heart race. You leave your phone face down on your bed.

“Hey I was thinking-” The door clicking along with the sound of Johnny’s voice made you jump and yelp. You cover your body with your pillow and gawk at him. He stops and flushes, face getting red hot within moments. Your short dress is perfectly hidden with the pillow and he’s stuttering like crazy.

“Oh my god… I am so sorry I don’t know why I didn’t knock-” It was because you were usually at your computer around this time, dressed casually with no makeup on. So the thought of you being naked behind that pillow paired with how beautiful your face and hair looked right now is very bad news for Johnny.

You’re ready to shrivel into nothing and whimper until he leaves, but then your phone starts blowing up. Ding after ding distracts the both of you from this peculiar situation. You steel yourself, slowly standing from the bed and placing your pillow back at the head of your bed. Both of you continue to look at the phone before you stand to pick it up. Tumblr, other than Instagram, is the only app you didn’t mute notifications on because of how dead it usually is. It’s been a while since you heard this many notifications.

There was a chance your pictures got the wrong kind of traction. Someone reblogged them to pick fun at you and now everyone was laughing at you. But as you see the pictures again you think why? You like the pictures, you look over every detail and decide there’s nothing wrong with them. So why would they laugh at you?

You clench your teeth as you click over to the notification tab, completely loosening up as you’re flooded with all the cute emojis and loving words your mind registers. Your heart feels like it’ll fly right out of your chest.

Right. Exactly.

When you look up at Johnny he’s staring at you, mouth dropped open. You steel yourself again and suck in a large breath.

“Yup. I dressed up. A-and I’m not going anywhere so don’t ask!” You respond defensively to basically nothing but it’s not like you care. Johnny swallows, failing to placate his dry throat.

“You don’t have to be. Everything looks so well put together… you look like a celebrity.”

The crease between your brow eases as your defenses fall in one great big explosion.

Your silence spurs Johnny to speak again. “I-I mean, I’m only pointing that out because I’m sure celebrities dress up for no reason too. So it’s… normal? I didn’t mean to be weird-”

“I’m going to get groceries.” You say with a smile too big to be talking about something so mundane.

“Okay, do you need me to come?”

“Nope! I got it.” You grab your purse before heading out of your room. “Wait!” He blurts out at the last second. You grip the leather strap of your purse as you wind yourself back around to face him. You were losing your courage fast, you needed to get out of here before you chickened out. Johnny realizes his lack of haste and pries his mouth open to get on with it already. “Next time you dress up… would you mind… including me. Like before.” His wording would be vague to anyone but the two of you, and maybe Jaehyun. And perhaps it was a bold ask, maybe too soon, but this development made Johnny too giddy to stop himself.

Touched would be an understatement, you could feel innumerous emotions drumming on your heart. Awe, excitement, appreciation. Longing.

“I’d love that.” You smile, unsure steps taking you backwards out of the doorway as you flash a timid smile at him. You finally pull away, shutting him in your room to bask in the sunny interaction he just had.

The door reopens not too long after and he wonders now if you forgot something. You march back into the room, attempting to feign confidence to make up for lost momentum. “Not quite ready for that yet, so I’m gonna change.”

But you did keep the hair and makeup, if that counts for anything. You shivered with excitement as you loaded your items onto the conveyor belt.

Your Tumblr had blown up in a matter of a week. The majority of your new followers had no idea who you were. Some found out through surprised replies from Dreamie fans and especially surprised ones from your older viewers, but most didn’t have a clue. It was freeing, you could read the notifications without being faced with allegations and theories. Nor any reminders.

You were still grateful for your Twitch audience, though. They were the reason you could plan to move to a different, better living quarters. You couldn’t look at them as burdens or harassers because you couldn’t blame them. They deserved to know who they were supporting, giving money to, who’s name they wore on their clothes, hats, and backpacks. You wouldn’t want to support or advertise anyone who knew or took part in that group chat either.

“You’re going to visit Chaeyoung. She wants to talk to you and I think it’s good for you to hear her out.” You nod after Taeyong speaks, noticing how sore your jaw is from clenching it so tightly.

“She’ll be free next week, I gave her your number so she’ll let you know the specific date and time. As you know, she’s a little eccentric so you won’t have to worry about how you’re dressed.” His eyes flicker over at your blouse and you curl your shoulder forward instinctively.

It was an elegant, see through button up with sleeves that flared just after your wrists. You put a light green bralette underneath, but maybe it was too much right now.

When you were at home, though, you were unstoppable. Crafting looks was addictive, you practically ran to your room when you got home. You could finally recreate those looks you saw on social media, but you mostly did your own thing. From recreating fits with your own flare to crafting them from scratch. Posting them to Tumblr earned you so much praise and tips (which were greatly appreciated in the makeup department). It was almost as enjoyable as putting together the looks.

It was nearing the day you’re to visit Chaeyoung and someone had posted a thread of your looks to Twitter. It gained a lot of traction, in turn gaining you more followers on Tumblr.

Then the news breaks out.

“POLICE INVESTIGATION ON POTENTIAL REVENGE PORN GROUP CHAT HAS BEEN CLOSED AFTER FINDING NO SUBSTANTIAL EVIDENCE”

It seems like every step forward sends you two steps back. You can’t think about this right now. So you go back onto Tumblr, reading each beautiful comment. And the replies on Twitter were nice too. You were scrolling through quote tweets of the thread when you saw it.

‘A bunch of female streamers are worried sick and on the verge of a breakdown and she’s having a fashion show’

It sounded like your own brain, as if this was just a hallucination to taunt you. It wouldn’t surprise you if that were the case. Each passing day of pretending everything was fine was making you feel more and more unhinged. You keep breaking down at random moments, the tiniest inconvenients. Sometimes it genuinely felt like you were thrashing underwater, losing oxygen quickly. So yes, you use Tumblr as a distraction. You try to puff out your chest but you know you’re wrong, and you can’t bury the emotion to save your life.

You think of the screenshots Chaekyung tweeted. The absolutely abhorrent things that were said to her. How shocked she must have felt. How helpless. She was begging for help and no one would step up.

You picture her in her room, all the horrible things people said to her loud in her mind. Wondering if no one cared about her this whole time, and what she did to deserve this.

You knock firmly on the door of her townhouse before bouncing on your toes. She takes quite a long time before finally peeking her head out of the door.

“Hey! Just the girl I wanted to see.” She smirks and pushes the door open. As you walk into her living room you note the theme. If it weren’t for the gray walls and brown wooden flooring, you’d be walking through a black abyss. It’s quite literally her as interior design. With her choppy pitch-black hair and sleeve of tattoos, it wouldn’t make sense if her house looked any other way. Taeyong was right about one thing. You didn’t feel weird at all dressing up to come here.

“Welcome to my humble abode or as I like to call it, emo paradise.” She spreads her arms to present her home, smiling once you laugh at her joke. “Make yourself at home. I’m expecting company, I hope that’s not an issue.”

“Oh of course not.” You perk up, maybe this is just what you needed. Chaeyoung is very popular with female streamers, she could probably introduce you to potential members.

Chaeyoung pours both of you some water before settling on a stool next to you. “I hear you’re having trouble speaking your truth against YangYang.” She not so discreetly glances to catch your reaction to the question. You suck in a breath. “Yeah, but don’t worry! Taeyong is already grilling me to make sure I’m not slacking off.”

“Oh fuck that guy.” Chaeyoung says with ease before taking a sip of her drink. She nearly chokes on her water once she realizes what she’d done. “Shit! I forgot he was your boyfriend, sorry!”

Your immediate response was to be offended, but it fizzled out almost immediately. “I mean, you’re allowed to dislike him.”

“It’s not that I dislike him per se,” She starts, clearly lying, “he just seems like the type of guy to over explain simple things to you to make himself seem smart, you know?”

“So then why are you doing this with us…?” Your question makes her sport a sour expression so you quickly reframe it. “I’m not saying that to be rude! I’m genuinely curious. As soon as Taeyong told me you were helping out I was just a little confused.”

“What do you mean?”

You hum and tap your fingers against the glass. “Does it feel icky? To frame your experience as a PR stunt?”

“Not at all. You know, it was YangYang for me, too.” Hearing her say this makes you think back to both times he propositioned you. “I fucking hated that guy, but I also wanted a quickie and he was hot as hell. I could tell he was having as good a time as I was and then he suddenly pulled out the phone. He told me he wanted a picture because of how hot I was. He was really pushy about it, and to get him to just drop it already I let him. It completely ruined the mood and I left right after, but he didn’t seem to care. Now I know why.”

Chaeyoung sets her glass on the counter and looks at you. “I have niche ass tattoos everywhere. People would know it was me automatically. It’s hard to make me squirm but that really got to me once Naeun’s leaked. I was convinced they’d just start rolling them out. I was pissed. But not just because of mine, because he had the gall to do it again and again. He had so many opportunities to stop and think about what he was doing.” She quirks her jaw, anger undoubtedly coming back to her.

“I just imagined his smug little smile while all these women were panicking and saw red. Now I don’t care what happens as long as that fucker goes down.”

Just from the short amount of time you’ve sat with her you can tell how strong she is. She’s not bluffing to make herself look cool. Sure, she’s not bawling in the corner with her knees tucked into her chest, but you can tell this situation has even her frazzled. Who knows the extent of these other girls’ grief? But something just refuses to click. Every time you try to put yourself in that headspace it slowly dissipates again.

“Aren’t you worried nothing will happen anyway? Or that you’ll make everything worse?”

“I can be careful. I know other people’s reputations are on the line. But I know I can make a difference. I’m just one person and I’m capable of making mistakes, but as long as I can inspire someone to stay strong I’m satisfied.”

Inspire someone to stay strong. You’re reminded of your younger self, as you constantly are with her being permanently embedded inside you. Sometimes you wish you could get rid of her, but other times you realize that she guides you down the right path. Current you wouldn’t have gotten through high school and try to help Johnny while you’re at it. But she did, and with a smile on her face.

“Because the last thing you want is for someone to give in.” You finish, slowly nodding your head. She smiles at you and you give a smile back. “You get it.” She punches your shoulder and you let out a genuine laugh.

“Even if it’s not for our image, I really want to make this group.”

“Then let’s do it, babe.” Chaeyoung raises her eyebrows and her glass, letting you clink yours against hers.

“Knock knock.” A soft voice calls from the door you didn’t even hear open. You turn with a smile still plastered on your face only for it to fall when you see her.

“Naeun! Welcome!” Chaeyoung scoots away from the island to run up to her.

Her eyes look tired and her hair is up in a lopsided bun. She’s dressed in sweatpants and a sweatshirt. Naeun was very popular even in mainstream media for her beauty. She’s widely considered one of if not the prettiest woman on the platform. She took pride in how she looked and is sort of infamous for her extensive morning and night routine. If it weren’t for the emotional exhaustion so evident on her face you would think this is how she gets comfortable.

“Chaeyoung…” She trails off, not acknowledging your presence yet as she and Chaeyoung share a tight hug.

“Look at you! All comfy.” She ignores the waver in Naeun’s voice, opting to distract her instead.

“Hello.” Naeun raises her voice a bit to greet you without making eye contact.

“Hi.” You stand from the stool so fast you almost slip and fall. You stabilize yourself, unsure about how to take her not being able to look at you. “Johnny still living with you?”

Through the building guilt from seeing her in person confusion surfaces. “How did you know that?”

“He told me. He used to text me every day until he stopped out of nowhere. I didn’t know if something happened to him, he hasn’t been streaming or updating his social media.”

“Johnny? As in Johnny Suh? Isn’t that douchebag involved?” Chaeyoung’s charged glare that she throws at you sends you scrambling for a response. You hadn’t put much thought into Johnny’s involvement. The thought of him even knowing about it brings an amount of pain that is hard to grapple with. So you go to defend him, more for your own sanity than his integrity. But Naeun beats you to the punch.

“No, he’s not.” She sighs.

“How do you know?” Both you and Chaeyoung ask in unison.

“Do you have alcohol, perchance?” She asks with a strained smile. All three of you migrate to the island and sip on small glasses of liquor, awaiting what Naeun has to say.

“Well?” Chaeyoung asks, not willing to wait any longer.

Naeun snorts, the alcohol pooling warmly in her stomach. “He’s too much of a pussy to do it.”

“That’s… not evidence.”

“And also kinda rude.” You defend him before you can catch yourself. Maybe it’s a little embarrassing, but you decide to stand by it.

Naeun hated talking about Renjun’s party. When she turned up sobbing at her parent’s house they forced it out of her, and now the only things people want to talk about are just motherfucking YangYang and the party. And how turned on her body made them. Naeun lets out a hefty sigh and pulls a nail file from her purse.

“The moment my pictures got leaked my mind went into attack mode and called Johnny screaming. It was just sketchy reflecting on how he sent me to check on you and YangYang. Too convenient.” She stops filing her nails to point the glass file at you. Johnny tried to stop him a second time? You thought.

The feeling that Johnny was a sweet guy lingered even after she cussed him out. Through her anguish, her brain kept nagging at her. Johnny wouldn’t do this, you know that.

She kept wondering why. Why was her mind so sure when her heart ached and she couldn’t stop crying long enough to breathe? When Taeyong first introduced the two of them she noticed a difference automatically. His eyes didn’t track down to her breasts. He was a gentleman, and not in the way that reeks of sleaziness and entitlement. He didn’t give her that wide, phony grin when he opened doors for her or when he offered her his jacket.

They didn’t hang out much, but when they did it felt like a natural human interaction. Not some drooling hound ogling a piece of raw steak. And even after all of that, after all of the niceties and courtesy and genuine conversation, the first favor he asked of her wasn’t a date or sex. It was to check on you. Naeun got the feeling he wasn’t the type to plan all of that in advance for something like this. She just felt it. And she’s been around lots of guys.

“It wasn’t all the voicemails or texts, it was hindsight. Chaeyoung, you’re friends with a lot of lady streamers. Have you ever heard about Johnny being sleazy?” She keeps her eyes trained on the translucent drink on the table, face slotted in between her hands.

Chaeyoung’s eyes flip up to the ceiling giving the question a good amount of consideration. “No, honestly I haven’t heard of him even getting with girls non-sleazily. I remember at one point questioning if he was gay…”

“He’s not gay.” Naeun grins with a short exhaled laugh. “He’s just softer than people think he’s supposed to be. He’s a “pussy”, but to me, that’s not a bad thing.” She glances over at you and Chaeyoung with heavy lids. Through her words and lazy gaze, both of you feel a bit criticized, and maybe rightfully so.

You continue to look into Naeun’s eyes and she gives you a soft, seemingly empathetic smile. She had a softie once. She watched him turn into a monster and then vanish.

“You’ve got a good one. You should keep him around.”

“He’s not-”

There it was, that incessant part of your brain here to remind you of everything Johnny has done. To keep you strong and vigilant. For the longest time, Johnny was this scary monster in your brain, huge as he loomed over you. But after leaving the group he slowly shrunk and became less threatening until now after over a month of living with him. Now all you see is this wide-eyed guy so eager to prove himself to you. Thinking about it, he crumbled as soon as you put your foot down. The others remained wicked ‘til the very end, but Johnny came around almost immediately, warning you when his friends were coming. Maybe he was a pussy. You snort before bursting into a fit of unrestrained laughter. You always were a lightweight.

Naeun watches in awe before cackling herself as Chaeyoung looks on in confusion.

“He’s not my boyfriend.” You say between laughs.

“Well, he wants to be.” Naeun recovers before shrugging. You wind down shortly after, her words hitting you like a ton of bricks.

“No, he doesn’t like girls like me.”

“Girl, you’re the only person he’s remotely shown any interest in.” Chaeyoung rolls her eyes.

“You don’t know that.”

“I’m pretty sure she’s right,” Naeun notes after a moment of silence. “And if “girls like me” means what I think it means, and you’re thinking what I think you are, he hasn’t flirted or shown interest in me.” After so long of no courting, Naeun just assumed he was like that.

“What do you think it means?” You say.

“I think it means you see yourself as lesser than because you don’t look like a model. It’s a global dilemma, I think.”

“Huh.” You weren’t sure if she meant to sting you with her words, but it sure worked if she did. It’s not like you didn’t know you weren’t model material, but sometimes hearing other people confirm your biggest concern in life makes it too real. Suddenly you’re all too aware of what you look like. You decided to be bold and wear a cropped sleeveless corset and heavier eye makeup. Even with no makeup, heavy eye bags, and a dull sweat suit, Naeun outclassed you by a mile. She made that actually messy bun look intentional.

“I dunno. I think you’re pretty cute.” Chaeyoung shrugs before throwing back the rest of her liquor. You grin tightly before pouring more in your cup. “Thanks, Chaeyoung.”

“Now tell me about this group.” Naeun starts. You’re too far gone to think about work right now. “I hear we’re using Taeyong?”

“Naeun!” Chaeyoung nearly chokes again before hissing at the woman. Naeun looks at her confused. You’re lost in your own world, feeling like your corset is pressing into your skin all of a sudden. Oh shit, Taeyong is your boyfriend.

“He’s my boyfriend! Hey!” You close your eyes as if to punctuate your lackluster defense of the man. “No using him!”

Naeun’s face suddenly goes grim as she warily says your name, but you don’t see it. Not that you need to, the tone of her voice is confusing enough.

“What?!”

The room is suddenly so quiet you could hear a pin drop. It unsettles everyone in the room but mostly you. You weren’t drunk enough to miss how somber the atmosphere became. Your head snaps toward Naeun who’s giving you a similar look as the one she gave at the party. Like she had just found you with someone nefarious.

“Not him…”

Johnny sets a package on your bed. Must be another clothing brand sending you free stuff. You’re nearly back to your old ways in terms of fashion. He has witnessed you on multiple occasions second guess your outfit choice as soon as you leave the room and go to put on something safer. On your Tumblr, you post all of the bold looks.

jonvvie: this one looks like an outfit you wore in middle school

___: is this an insult? lol

jonvvie: no! I think it’s cool hwo you made it mor emature

jonvvie: how*

jonvvie: more mature*

Johnny smiles again at the meme you sent making fun of his typos. The person who messages him on Tumblr and the one stumbling drunk through the door feel like polar opposites.

“Fuck Taeyong!” You slur before slamming the door shut. Johnny rushes up to you and guides you to the sofa. He leaves to fill a glass with water before returning to your hiccuping figure. He sets the cup on a coaster before taking your heels off. “That cold sunuvabitch.”

Johnny silently hands you the water and buries his confusion. It seems like you’re gonna spill everything on your own. You actually spill your water all over your shirt before swearing loudly and sending the cup crashing to the floor. “Fuck!”

“Be careful.” Johnny urges, curling your legs onto the couch.

“We’re gonna take that asshole down. Pull the rug right under his stupid feet. He won’t know a thing.”

Unable to contain his curiosity any longer, he caves. “What do you mean…”

“I dunno, kill him?? No, too risky…” You think for a moment, looking like you’re dozing off as Johnny cleans up the glass and water. You suddenly gasp. “We should blackmail that fucker. Make him do what we want or else.”

“And what do we want?”

“I want…” You pause, suddenly feeling a lot more somber than mere seconds before. Your muddled brain couldn’t make sense of it. You wanted Taeyong. You always have. You finally did it, dated the man of your dreams. “He doesn’t touch me, Johnny.” Your lip quivers suddenly and you want to drive a piece of glass into your throat, but Johnny had already tossed them from the dustpan and was making his way back. “He hasn’t kissed me since the day we first had sex. We don’t have sex.” The words don’t even sound right. A man doesn’t want to have sex? Imagine being so unattractive that a guy doesn’t even wanna fuck you. You laugh derisively at your own misfortune.

“That’s okay, because once I’m done with his ass, I can have Jungwoo again and my bed will at least be warm some of the time.”

Johnny frowns. You must not be searching for suitors or going on dates, either because you’ve been waiting for Taeyong or Johnny ruined that for you too. Possibly both.

Now that Taeyong and your brain have ripped away your last shred of confidence, you were bitter. You wanted Taeyong and you’ve always wanted him, but what about the future? When you’re with him he only looks at you to silently belittle you or to make sure you’re listening to him yap. And all about him looking down on you for wanting to do right by what happened to you? And him speaking so casually about this horrible situation like it’s just another job for him to complete?

You gave him the benefit of the doubt. He wakes up at 6 am every day and is out all the time. Working hard, you thought. When in actuality he was visiting Naeun.

“He started talking to me before dating Nayeon. I liked him for a moment but he said something that didn’t sit right with me, so I pulled away. He’s been pursuing me ever since, apparently through two relationships.”

When he was sucking up to Naeun, did he belittle her too? Or was she too pretty for that? Despite Naeun’s notoriety for her beauty, you would bet on him being discounting her suffering. He probably said something like ‘But that’s in the past now, look!’ And showing how many people support her. Not even factoring in her nudes still being passed around on the internet like a hot potato. ‘Your followers are growing, isn’t that a good thing?’

“You know what I really want? I wanna help those girls.” Gaining a new boost of adrenaline from the idea you settle onto your knees before looking at Johnny and grabbing his face. “You said you didn’t have anything to do, right?”

“I-I uh-”

“Great! We should shut down that group chat ourselves.” You pat his face maybe a little too hard but you were high off of adrenaline right now.

“We can use… Taeyong… somehow… to gain access to the server and shut it the fuck down.”

“I’m liking this plan, but we should talk about it more when you’re sober.” Johnny laughs at how hard you're thinking and how unnatural your blinking is.

“Fine! And sleep in my goddamn bedroom tonight! I made that floor bed up for you and it takes up so much space and I trip on it sometimes and you keep sleeping on the couch!”

Johnny purses his lips before nodding. “Okay. I will.” He lies.

“I’m drunk, not stupid.” You poke his chest. “I know you’re not gonna do it, liar.”

“The couch is fine.”

“You’re always fuckin’ tip toeing around me like I’m the one that hurt you. I should be the one tip toeing motherfucker.”

Your words burn like hell, but there’s no emotion in your voice or face clear enough to decipher them properly. “So stop! Just sleep in my room.”

“I just don’t wanna move too fast.” Johnny stresses as if you’re in your right mind.

“You know, I’m pretty sure we did a blood shake. We’re blood bonded!”

“And spit bonded, I know.”

“Exactly! You’re the one who fucked up. I’m still a good friend.” You point at him before pointing at yourself and looking at him with your barely open eyes. “Matter of fact, where’s a piece of glass,”

“Okay. That’s enough.” He courts you off to your room, getting an earful of your drunken ranting as he tucks you in.

“Good night, we’ll talk in the morning.”

You give him a complicated look, the words having a hard time coming out even in your drunken stupor. You grab his hand, “You’re not lying?”

Johnny kneels, looking at you like he’s never been more serious in his entire life. “You can trust me.”

You're out by the time he’s made it back to your door. He glances back and decides to tuck you in properly. The sound of your computer dinging catches his ear. He walks over to turn it off and can’t help the words his eyes involuntarily catch.

There’s a chat box open between you and an account called ‘gnuykeahc’.

___: Id love you to join

It was the first message he picked up, the second one being the one before that, filling him in further.

___: the group so far consists of me, Chaeyoung, and hopefully Naeun

At the very top are a few that concern him from the other user.

gnuykeahc: I can’t help but wonder if you’re only speaking to me because Twitter called you out

gnuykeahc: I have nothing against you but I refuse to entertain your attempts to clear your conscience

gnuykeahc: I’m sorry

The next messages show you acknowledging her accusations, never making any attempt to refute them. Some messages manage to make Johnny a little sad.

___: I just wish I could make this all go away for you

You knocked out for about three hours before your eyes shot open. You look down at the floor bed, it has become instinctual at this point, and see that it’s empty. The sight adds so much weight to your already heavy heart that you start to cry.

For a moment you actually thought Taeyong was working hard for you. You were sick of being on the side while everyone else prospered. You thought he understood you and fought for you. You have dreamed of this moment since you met Taeyong. You thought that maybe one day he’d spare you some of his love. All you got was a label and a publicity stunt. That’s what this had to be, right?

You shouldn’t be crying, you should be celebrating. Here’s to sex! You being a little less trapped! But the young girl inside you was strong. Stronger than you. So you spend the night lamenting your first love.

Naeun: Hey, got time to talk?

It felt surreal. Not only was she okay but she was reaching out to him to talk? Not cussing him out? It had to be a miracle. Whatever higher power that was up there was being much too gracious to him recently. Him and Naeun meet at a bar. She’s sporting a mask and cap and clothing much more casual than he’d ever seen her in. He quietly sits next to her at a table in the corner. She doesn’t acknowledge him but there’s no way she didn’t see him sit down.

“I’m so-”

“Nope. Not doing that. I don’t want to talk about that situation at all.” She cringes as she instantly shoots him down.

“But I think we need to talk about it, and my involvement, all of that.” Johnny presses.

“I know you weren’t involved. I can tell. I was just really worked up that night. Chaeyoung was ringing my phone off the hook to wake me up and then I got that news. I’m sorry for biting your head off.” She mumbles the last part.

“Don’t be sorry. I didn’t know about the group chat but I was still okay with those guys being douchebags. I was a douchebag and I enabled them.”

Naeun chews at her dry lips beneath the mask. Her skin was a mess and she was behind on her lip treatment. She felt disgusting. She didn’t know that the way she shied away from him and the way she acted after this whole debacle was very familiar for Johnny. “What’s important is that you didn’t cross the line.”

“Debatable.”

“I’m talking about what YangYang and those other guys did. That level, you haven’t reached that. You still have time to mend what you’ve done. Starting with your roommate.”

“Who, ___?” Johnny says, looking at her in confusion. “Where is this coming from?”

Naeun sighs, cradling her head in her hands. “I told her about Taeyong. I didn’t know she’d react like that. I expected her to be heartbroken, but I thought she’d just go home early or something. Not down an entire bottle of grey goose. She was already tipsy from the tiniest amount.”

Johnny laughs. “Yeah, she always was a lightweight.” You never quite explained what happened, and Johnny was tempted to ask. He stops himself. You’ll tell him if you want him to know.

"You need to hurry up and tell that girl you love her.“

It was Johnny’s turn to let out a heavy sigh. He should order a drink or two. “I can’t do that. Not yet.”

“Why not?”

“Things are going so well.” Johnny says. He’s fine with waiting. “And I’m sure she’s aware I love her. We’ve known each other since middle school, that doesn’t just go away.”

“What? No you idiot. I mean romantically.” Naeun watches as his face turns beet red and she blows a raspberry and drops her head. “Unbelievable.”

“I definitely can’t do that.” Johnny shakes his head frantically. “She doesn’t like guys like me anyway.”

Naeun laughs again, this time sarcastically. “The two of you I swear…” She sobers her expression and finally looks Johnny dead in the eyes. “She needs you.”

Johnny thinks back to your sobs muffled by your closed door. He let out a few tears himself that night. “Well, I’m here. Plus, she’s still in love with Taeyong, despite whatever he did.”

“You’re probably right, but you have to promise you’ll confess after she gets over it.”

“I’m not gonna do that.”

“What, promise? Fine. But at least consider it.”

Naeun wasn’t quite grasping what Johnny was worried about. He wasn’t too surprised. It isn’t every day you meet a pairing like you and Johnny. “I’m just worried I’ll do something and mess everything up.” This is Johnny’s last chance to do right by you. He blinks away the tears threatening to humiliate him. “I can’t lose her.”

“This is so cliche, do I even need to say it? If you love her, you have to be okay with letting her go. If she’s over Taeyong and reacts negatively to your confession to the point that it’s relationship ending, maybe it was time for that relationship to end anyway.”

She was so blunt. She definitely doesn’t understand. She could’ve stabbed him and that would’ve hurt less. The tear rolls down his face and he angrily wipes them away. He can’t think of a response that isn’t driven by his heightened emotions.

“Maybe she doesn’t need you but,”

“Naeun, I get it-”

“I had a relationship like you guys’ in high school.”

Johnny’s jaw clamps shut, resentment having a hard time draining from his eyes but he hears her out.

“She said a lot about the two of you while she was drunk. Sorry if she reamed you that night, I would blame Chaeyoung.” She starts, continuing when Johnny just grits his teeth. “I told you about the guy that gave me hell in high school. Well, we used to be best friends. I’m talking knew each other as toddlers. Our fathers were best friends and they promised to make their kids friends as well. It worked. He and I were like each other’s diary. I could tell him anything and it just made me feel better.” A strong bond like that seemed near impossible to end badly. Maybe drift apart, but to become enemies and hurt someone you loved for so long?

“We were inseparable by the time high school came around. One night at a party we got drunk and hooked up. I could tell something changed the next day. Something was wrong. I tried to go over to his house and his mom mean-mugged me before slamming the door in my face. He spread the rumor about me being a disease-ridden-slut and the rest was history.” She recounts wistfully as if she wasn’t telling the most heart wrenching story Johnny had ever heard.

“Why didn’t you tell me the two of you used to be friends?”

“Because I tried to pretend it wasn’t true. It was easier that way.” Naeun was feeling about ready for a drink as well. “This mess is bringing it all back. I can’t believe I’m telling you this.”

“And for what? To make me feel better? Why are you being so charitable, Miss Lee?” Johnny nudges her with his shoulder and she smiles.

“Like I said. You didn’t reach that level.” He was able to pull back before he did something truly despicable. All because of how much he loved you. Naeun dreamt all the time that Sungchan didn’t let his mother slam that door on her. That he pushed through and embraced her and told her it was gonna be okay.

Johnny’s heart ached for the woman beside him. As if it didn’t ache enough already. She turns to him, staring longingly into his eyes before pulling her mask down. Before they could notice what was happening, they were drawing nearer before they tenderly closed the gap. They pull back after a short kiss, neither of them feeling what they intended.

“We can play around for now, but we can’t fix each other.” Naeun shakes her head. “We can only do that for ourselves.”

You’ve spent the entire day crying. It took everything in you not to cry when Taeyong was here. He asked if it was because of Johnny. An act. A poor one that somehow you completely missed. Right when you thought there weren’t any tears left, you cried some more. It was always a far-fetched fantasy.

But the more anguish you experienced, the more serious you felt about your plan. Johnny rushes into the door late at night, throwing his jacket right on the floor.

“Let’s do this.”

Working together with Johnny, Naeun, and Chaeyoung, you were so confident. You were passionate and angry. It was the clearest glimpse of the old you Johnny had gotten in ages. But the day Taeyong is supposed to come over you lose a lot of that drive. It’s quickly replaced with anxiety.

Naeun’s advice weighs heavy on Johnny’s mind. It would absolutely kill him if his confession ruined your relationship. He doesn’t even want to entertain that thought. But maybe Naeun was right about letting you go.

Before he even thinks about doing that, he’s going to do everything in his power to make a significant impact on your life. More than the pitiful kid from your childhood or your supposed best friend that hurt you. He wants to set you back on track to the amazing person you were destined to be before he derailed you.

“What’re you nervous about.”

“Um…” You stare at the door, waiting for him to walk in. After this the two of you will be broken up. “I-I don’t know what’s about to happen and I’m scared.”

“What’s gonna happen is we’ll talk to him just like we practiced and it’s gonna work out.” Johnny glances over with a smile as you stand side by side.

“How can you be so sure? I just- I don’t understand.” There was nothing to be so sure about, nothing guaranteeing their success. You’d have a much easier time in life if you could figure out what everyone else’s confidence was rooted in.

“Because you’re determined to make things right.” When your head swivels toward Johnny he gives you a serious expression. “And I am too.”

The door opens but the two of you don’t stop looking at each other. Taeyong huffs as he sits at your dining table, one of the two main areas that have become your judgment zone. He jogs a stack of papers before giving the two of you a weary look without moving his head.

“Can you leave for a second? I’d like to talk to my girlfriend.”

Seeing his face again you realize something that brings an inkling of your fire back. Taeyong hadn’t visited nor spoken to you in six days.

“We’d both actually like to talk to you.” You state, making Taeyong look confusedly between the both of you. “We need you to do us a favor. We want access to the group chat and we know you’ve got connections.”

“Bold of you to assume. Even if I did, I’m not getting involved with that more than I have to be.” Taeyong replies without a second of consideration.

“Okay then, fine.” You settle at the table across from him. Your jaw was starting to get sore again as you stare him down. “I know about Naeun, she knows about me, and we’d both like you to leave us the fuck alone.” You spit, nostrils flaring as the contempt for this man builds inside of you. Six days.

“Naeun-” He scrunches his eyebrows before dread sets in on his face. “Hold on-” He fishes for his stupid phone in his pocket, only fueling your fire more.

“No need. Naeun blocked your number and gave us screenshots of your conversations. We’re not gonna post them as long as you just help us.” Johnny remains calm and rational, an accidental good cop to your bad cop.

“So, what, you’re blackmailing me? Even if that wasn’t a crime you should know to tread carefully, right?” Taeyong remains calm as well, giving that look that shows just how he thinks of the people around him.

“If you do a thing to either of our reputations Naeun will finally make a statement and include you in it, and your creepy and disrespectful texts to her.” You respond, not as calm but your passion made him falter a bit.

“You’re really gonna blackmail me for this? your pictures aren’t even in there.” Taeyong reasons frustratedly.

“Doesn’t matter to me. I know it’s a hard concept for you to understand, but I don’t like to see people get hurt. I played it your way and it felt horrible. I don’t know how you live like this but I don’t care. Just get us what we need and we’ll part ways for good.” It takes everything in Johnny not to give you a proud look.

Taeyong laughs mockingly, tilting his head to the side before looking back at you. “After all that work I put into helping with your group you’re just gonna kick me to the curb?”

“All that work?” You stand from the table as you glare at him. “You mean flirting with Naeun while we were in a relationship?”

“Please don’t stand there and act like you weren’t willfully ignorant. I let you live your fantasy and you ignored all the red flags and read fanfiction. The two of you are really good at dodging blame.” Johnny grabs your shoulders when he senses you’re about to blow up.

“You asshole…” Your voice trembles.

“Look, we just need to gain access to the group chat. That’s all. We just need that one favor, it doesn’t have to get messy.” Johnny hesitates for a moment, he didn’t want you to find out like this. “You already said how much you don’t want to be around her.” You go limp in Johnny's grasp and he lets you go, ignoring the way you look back at him.

“You know what? You’re right. I’ve probably lost ten years off my life dealing with you basket cases. So let’s just get this over with. Also, hun,” He looks at you, smiling even though tears are welling in your eyes. “Good luck on stopping that incoming hate train. You were too busy doing this, I hope you know it’s too late.”

The moment your front door closes you collapse to the floor. Johnny follows you, not holding you but staying close.

//eight months later\\

“Johnny.” You can hear him dragging his feet, explaining why it takes so long for him to appear in your doorway. You just smile from your bed. He knows exactly why you called him.

“Good news, taking my time worked. They completely trust me now.” Johnny forces a smile but you still just stare at him. “So we can start phase two.”

His smile flickers when you sit up in bed.

“Doesn’t that make you happy-”

“Johnny come in here and go to sleep.”

He makes a show of his long sigh. He thinks he’s slick, only coming in to sleep on the floor mattress once you’ve fallen asleep. You got up in the middle of the night one time and he’d dozed off on the couch watching a movie.

“I’m not tired yet.”

“Doesn’t mean you can’t relax here. Hell, you could even watch Netflix on my computer if you want.” You suggest lightly as you point to your computer.

Johnny is far past vagueness, the two of you had a long discussion about communication. “Don’t you want some time to yourself? We see each other all day.”

“Not really, I’m sitting at my computer most of the time.”

You were right. The only time you hung out was when you ate dinner or you joined him on the couch and watched whatever was playing. “We don’t have to talk to each other either. You can just lay down or sit in my computer chair. It doesn’t have to be awkward.”

“Okay!” Johnny moves his feet before he could hesitate any more. He lays stiffly on the bed and you curl your body over to look at him. His eyes dance around, refusing to land on you staring at him. He didn’t even get under the covers, he just laid perfectly still with his arms by his side.

“Lovie, what are you doing?”

Johnny groans and presses his cold fingers to his hot face. That name being back was still very new. “Just laying down like you asked.”

“Suggested,” you correct, “and you can always go sit on the couch if you’re uncomfy.”

“No,” Because then he’d have to admit something else was bothering him. Your new room was much more spacious now, so it’s much less suffocating than it would’ve been. Your perfume had already soaked the air of this room. You’ve tried out a new fragrance, one even more intoxicating. Though, anything you decided to spritz your body and clothes with would drive him mad.

You watch him for a few more seconds before taking a quick inhale. “Well I’m going to sleep.”

It’s quiet… it’s awkward. At least for Johnny. You were probably taking your own advice and not making it awkward. His nightmares haven’t exactly gone away, but with the help of his therapist they haven’t been as debilitating. He explained the obvious, that they were rooted in guilt.

“I know that. It’s just getting over the guilt.”

“Do you want to get over the guilt?”

He wanted to answer yes immediately, like it was obvious, but he retracted his answer. Johnny was constantly raking himself over the coals. Telling himself he deserved every bad thing that happened to him.

“I did something horrible.”

“You told me about what she said while she was drunk, is that consistent with her sober opinions?”

Johnny knew what he was doing. She got over it so why don’t you?

“So if she didn’t forgive me, I would be deserving of punishment then but not now?”

“Maybe you should try considering the reasoning behind her forgiveness and not the action itself.”

He didn’t ask him, he should’ve, he’ll remind himself for the next session. What if the reasoning isn’t sound? What if she forgave me too rashly?

“Why did you forgive me?” He forced his question free before it could be locked behind a high security vault. You don’t answer quickly which leads him to believe you’d fallen asleep while he was in deep thought.

“Pretty intense question for bedtime don’t you think?”

Johnny panics, wishing he could wrangle the question and shove it into the vault. Beyond the possibility of the question bothering you was the answer not being something he wanted to hear. What was he thinking?

“It’s my fault. All of this.”

You ever thinking that was remotely possible was a mind boggling riddle he’d rather you explain yourself. He makes a bewildered noise after failing to come up with words.

“I introduced us to Taeyong. I was selfish. He was the only person who smiled at me in the halls when everyone else scowled. He helped me when my books fell. He didn’t back down when his friends made fun of him or Hyojong and Hyuna threatened him. I was a child, but I wonder if I did all of that for my own gain.”

Johnny feels angered by your assumption, ready to scold you for even thinking that way, but he realizes how hard this must be for you. This isn’t the first time since he’s been living with you that you’ve expressed these concerns. You’re just trying to grapple with the aftermath of all of this just like he is.

“I introduced YangYang to the group, and Taeyong invited Nayeon. Lucas and Doyoung came on their own.” He repeats what Taeyong told him that day. “That’s just how it is, but it isn’t so cut and dry. You and I invited who we thought would enrich our lives and each other’s.” YangYang was the only guy in Johnny’s life that didn’t make fun of your looks at the time. Johnny even saw what you saw in Taeyong at first. That’s how it started, bringing people into each other’s lives that would heal your shared wounds.

“Taeyong didn’t pick on you for liking flowers…” Your voice got quieter. “So I thought he was okay.”

“Hey.” Johnny gets up from his bed to kneel beside yours. You turn onto your side and rest your hands over the edge. He places both of his over yours. Neither of you realize that the other is experiencing the same electricity. “I’m fine. Your own mental health should be your priority.”

You breathe a small laugh. Of course it sounds obvious when he says it like that. “I’m a grown man.” Your smile drains away when he says that again.

“Johnny, what does that even mean? You don’t need support?” You ask frustratedly, wanting to get to the bottom of this. “It means I’m not a little boy anymore.” He replies like it’s nothing. Like his own words aren’t kickstarting a whirlwind of thoughts.

“Am I meant to believe all the suffering I witnessed was nothing?”

You forgave him because you thought you caused all this. That’s simply not true, and that reasoning was flimsy just like he thought it would be. Once you fully realize it’s not your fault, you’ll realize you don’t actually forgive him as well. He wants to sulk about it, but his emotions aren’t important here.

“You have enough on your plate.” He murmurs dismissively. He doesn’t explain any further despite what the two of you talked about. He just rolls away from you and stays silent until your mind tires from the endless concerns and lulls you to sleep.

rawdawg: the pussy messiah has arrived!

Johnny cringes at each message that pops up after he speaks. It turns out it was a discord server. No new pictures have been arriving because the three suppliers had fucked off out of fear. The group chat members chastised them but they weren’t stupid enough to go do it either. Even before the leak.

jonssuh: been having fun?

rawdawg: you know it

rawdawg: we got something for ya!

Johnny already knows to look away when the picture loads and scroll up.

jonssuh: what is it? it’s not loading

rawdawg: that stupid bitch purkyung’s nudes, she took them for someone else on snapchat and he got a screenshot

There’s no way those were Chaekyung’s pictures. Most female streamers are still on high alert. And from the few times she’s agreed to meet up with you to talk, she does not seem like the type to make a slip up like this. Johnny was still panicking, though. Hers or not, it was her words against everyone who didn’t like her, which was still unfortunately a lot.

8==D: we should leak it lol

morbius sweep: are you dumb?

morbius sweep: we should blackmail her instead

He told you he’d move forward tomorrow but he wasn’t sure if these were empty threats. These were the three most active users on the server other than Johnny himself trying to build a rapport. They were undeniably lowlifes willing to throw their own lives away to tear other people down and nut in the process. Is this what Johnny looked like to you all these years? Is this how he would’ve ended up in some alternate universe?

Johnny quickly texts you that he’s starting before switching back over to discord.

rawdawg: @ jonssuh are you ever gonna stream again man? you were so funny bro

Blerg: he was super laid back

fbivfk: top tier streamer

As the praise poured in he saw a text from you at the top of the screen.

___: okay. I’m ready

He reviews the plan in his head but keeps getting distracted by the change in discussion. After this, the server would be gone.

morbius sweep: he was legit the funniest one in the group I’m not gonna lie

The first time Lucas ever called him funny was like a temporary high. Especially after all the times he and other people called him corny or lame. He chased that high like his life depended on it. The high was so strong he was able to block out your suffering and at some points, incite it himself. He feels a flicker of that high reading these messages. It had been a while since someone stroked his ego. Right now he was effectively living his high school dream. Having sex with a beautiful woman while being called cool by people similar to the ones that ridiculed him. The people whose opinions mattered the most.

Would his younger self be able to overlook all the caveats littered amongst this fairytale? These people, they’re pathetic. Scrounging for nudes of women who would never give them the time of day. He can’t unsee the piteous nature of it all. And Naeun isn’t fucking him because she’s obsessed with him or thinks he’s cool. Laying in her bed night after night is a constant reminder that she is still coping with her heartbreak.

Worst of all, Johnny couldn’t like the girl if he tried. He’s coming to terms with it now, the fact that you can’t control who you yearn for. You can either deny it and become bitter and miserable or just face the facts.

8==D: Doyoung and Lucas are pretty funny too

rawdawg: we all know who wasn’t

8==D: lol

morbius sweep: at least she isn’t blabbing online like Mark is

rawdawg: she knows her place

The image of your sullen expression was burned into his retinas, and it was even more vivid in this all too familiar situation.

jonssuh: you guys are too kind

jonssuh: I see the archive is filling up, yong is tellin me the cops are talking to him now about the group chat

jonssuh: they’re gonna be on our asses at any moment

rawdawg: this shit is so tiring

morbius sweep: stupid pigs

8==D: I’m not trying to fuck around man, I already deleted everything off my phone

Atreus: why? it’s not that serious

8==D: you’re willing to go to jail over this? the pictures will still be in the archive

rawdawg: just delete em until they can the investigation again

morbius sweep: if we get caught you know they’re siding with the chicks just like everyone else is.

The chat continues to go back and forth just like you predicted. You even prepared a back up plan in case people refused to cooperate. In the end, the consensus is that it’s better to be cautious. There are definitely some users lying about cooperating, and still a couple refusing altogether.

He wants to ask why they’re doing any of this when the risk of another woman getting exposed is still there. Johnny felt the same skepticism when talking about Chaekyung with you. She seems to only be meeting with you so you’ll eventually leave her alone. She doesn’t seem keen at all.

“It’s about bringing peace of mind. To make the situation less harrowing.”

Johnny starts typing again. Maybe the people who still have pictures will be too cowardly to post them.

jonssuh: @ everyone make sure to delete them, if they search your phone and find them you’ll be getting me in trouble with you

It takes longer than he expected, then again he was being impatient. He was pacing in the living room until everyone in the server took the poll. Ninety-seven percent said they followed through, the other three percent checked that they wouldn’t.

jonssuh: last call! I’m about to lock away the archive until this clears up

You bite your nails as you wait on him to tell you when. You have the server owner’s password written on a napkin for time sake.

“Did he say it yet?” Chaeyoung asks for a second time.

“No.” You confirm in a low voice, concentrating on your phone. You weren’t sure if this could get you in trouble with the law. Tampering with evidence, or something. You were surprised by how little you cared. They fumbled the ball once and now you were taking matters into your own hands. Truly getting rid of the pictures for good.

Lovie: NOw

You race to log in, fingers trembling as you quickly mouse over the server settings. With a few clicks the server is deleted, and if Johnny followed the order correctly the archive was too. You jump up from your seat with an elated squeak. “I did it! It’s done!”

Chaeyoung hugs you from your back and hoists you into the air with a grunt. You’re not even phased by your sudden airborne state. This was finally over.

Getting over Taeyong is harder than you care to admit. He never loved you, it’s what you keep telling yourself. But then you think of his body pressed against yours in the back of Lucas’s car. How you were sure he was about to kiss you. The night he asked to be with you, that kiss was breathtaking. The sex, you were so eager to give yourself to him. It was easy to convince yourself that he felt something too.

But as time went on, you found out what real pain felt like. You tried to keep it concealed to not worry your friends or fans but you were suffering. He was pure evil and you fell head first into his trap.

You steadily cut the carrot on the chopping board, being sure to go slow as you felt your heart wither. It hits you randomly, strong bursts of sorrow that send you toppling over like a flimsy house of cards. Reality hitting you coincided with taking the group chat down. Chaeyoung tweeted about it, even though that wasn’t part of the plan. You all were only supposed to tell the people involved so they could worry less. The tweet gained a lot of traction and news spread fast. You and Johnny were getting so much love. The groupchat and most of the pictures were gone, and your group was coming along swimmingly. All you could think about was how easily Taeyong toyed with your heart.

You stop and set the knife down for a moment to collect yourself. You inhale, surprised when your breath gets caught. You feel your eyes start to get misty and try to distract yourself. Johnny is right next to you preparing the meat. Neither of you have reached out to the other directly to help. It’s strange, because the other seems eager to do the helping. Johnny can be a bit sheepish about it, but he expresses his willingness to help in small ways.

Envisioning Johnny comforting you doesn’t sound bad at all. In fact, the two of you find ways to touch each other all the time. It’s electrifying, even when it’s his fingers brushing against your arm. You wouldn’t mind a hug right now. But it’s getting to that part that’s difficult for you.

“Takin’ a break?” He asks amusedly. You don’t mean to be cold but you’re in no mood to joke right now. You turn away from him slightly, knowing the tears are coming. Crying wasn’t going to help anything, and you’d look absolutely pathetic begging for a hug. How could he even stand being around you for so long?

He calls your name cautiously before setting aside the spice bottle in his hand. He inches closer to you and feels it. You cried a lot when you first found out Taeyong was cheating. Then it subsided. Then Taeyong looked straight into your eyes while he crushed your heart in his hands. You focused your energy on the plan and your group, but he could still hear you every night. Then it just stopped.

But as he approached you, he could tell this was different. He got an inkling you were no longer mourning the relationship. You were starting to put the pieces together.

“If you need to go lay down, I’ll finish myself.” Johnny successfully catches a glimpse of your face. You looked disturbed by whatever was churning in your brain. Should he have told you what he realized way back when Jaehyun was here? Every time he considered it it felt like that night he ran to your house. You had a right to be defensive, and maybe telling you now would make you realize you still don’t forgive him.

It happens in an instant, your face was dry and then comes the flow of tears. “I’m sorry.” He was probably sick of hearing you cry, and now you were doing it in front of him. “I-I’m sorry I’ll go,” You replace your wavering voice with a sturdier one as you try to peel away.

Johnny grabs your shoulder gently and reaches for the other, turning you to face him. You guard your tear-soaked face. “It’s not a big deal, I know.” You say as if you know he’s thinking it. He shakes his head dumbfoundedly.

“It is a huge deal. I’m just sorry you had to find out this way.” It’s hard for him to focus as he watches you cry. He’s consoled you probably a hundred times. Even if he hasn’t done it in a while, he has a starting point. The only caveat is that once he does this, he knows it’ll only be harder to leave. As he brushes your tears away with the back of his hand you feel that electricity again, and you convince yourself that maybe it’s just because it’s been a while. You unguard your face, letting him see your desolation in all its glory. You feel yourself unwittingly tensing up as if you were preparing for something bad, but as you bathe in his doting gaze you realize something. You don’t feel small or insignificant at all.

Then he takes your hand and guides you to the couch. He sits in the middle and pulls you to sit in between his knees. As soon as you’re settled there your heart is set alight when you realize. That’s not even half of the emotion Johnny is feeling as massages his fingers into your scalp. Just like when you were kids, your neck goes limp and you rest it on his right thigh. A lengthy sigh leaks from your lips as your body starts to untense. Johnny’s heart is filled beyond capacity as he watches serenity wash over your features. It feels like it could burst.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You ask, voice still feeble. You remember vividly how hurt you felt when Johnny spoke to Taeyong. You already said how much you don’t want to be around her. You’ve never felt so undesirable in your life. Those words had a hand in tainting your memories of Taeyong. Johnny doesn’t doubt for a second you’re talking about Taeyong. It’s loaded in your eyes every time you’ve looked at him since. That unspoken acknowledgement.

“At first I held off because I didn’t want it to be like that night we all came over. When YangYang first tried to take advantage of you. I’ll be honest, I was worried about you, but deep inside I knew it was just a ploy to see you again.” Johnny starts carefully and ends regretfully. “I was being selfish and ignoring your wishes.” He slows down his massaging, moving his hand in wide circles.

“I started having suspicions he was using us from the beginning.” You pull your head back up straight, and a small part of him is glad he can’t see your face. He just focuses on your scalp. “I think… I think he used us to strengthen his altruistic image. Bullies strike fear into people for respect, he was just trying a different approach to gain even more respect.”

He sits with your silence, letting you soak in the information as he continues to soothe you. When you finally speak it makes him stop completely.

“Did he… I mean he had to. He thought I was unbearable the entire time.” Your mind tortures you with flashes of what you probably looked like all this time. The fat, mouth-breathing, hard to look at nuisance that kept following him around. The sole reason he got tired of keeping up with his act. He just couldn’t stand you that much. And could you blame him?

Who cares what he thinks? Is what nips at the back of his brain but he shoos it away. Johnny did at one point. Being in that group chat made him realize the true nature of all the people whose opinions he valued more than his self respect and best friend. They were ten times more embarrassing than the people they looked down on.

“I know how bad it feels when people successfully weaponize their valued opinions against you. It feels like no matter what you do, you’re gonna be seen as wrong. It makes you feel powerless but that is an illusion.” The way Johnny emphasizes his words reads as him finding credence in these words himself. “You have the power to control your circumstance by shattering this illusion. The women you follow on social media have either figured this out or are getting there.”

“I understand that.” Your spine was starting to hurt from not relaxing against him but you just couldn’t get yourself to. “I just don’t understand how.” How to get there or how people can be so confident. How could anyone know for sure if they have power?

“Me neither. I still don’t, at all.” Johnny gulps, heart stilling for a moment. “But what I did understand was that I loved you. Love you.” You grow even stiffer, rigid from the intensity of his words. Of course he loves you, why does this feel so… real? “And that’s all it took.”

Johnny starts massaging a little faster, a tinge of awkwardness setting in after he second-guesses his decision. Then you rest your head on his bare knee and his face goes hot again. “B-but um… yeah I just wanted- you should pursue what’s important to you. Dwelling over the complexities can just send you in circles.”

Suddenly the fact that you were touching each other, kind of a lot, was very apparent to Johnny. His nightmares have effectively killed his arousal. And any time he imagines you in your bed he can’t stop thinking of your blank stare and worrying question. Johnny sighs, the heat draining from his cheeks once he’s brought back to reality. He needs to start planning to move out of your house and back into his.

“It was nice living with you.”

“You too.” You speak in a hushed voice, the finality of it all makes your stomach drop. Living with Johnny as adults was a fantasy you conjured up as kids. It was time to be serious.

“Johnny?”

“Hm?”

“I want to help you.”

Gravel crunches under the wheels of Johnny’s car as he pulls into his house. The pace is sluggish, and even when he parks he doesn’t take his hand off the wheel. You’re not ecstatic about going back in there either. This time you were alone to grapple with any strong emotions this causes for the both of you.

You’ve made it clear to Johnny that you’re here if he needs you but he has yet to accept that invitation. Even offering to help clean was a bit of a struggle. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t sting. You guys were chatting more casually now, and when you look at him you don’t see the asshole who tormented you in this house. You see the goofball with too many damned dad jokes. You see a sweet and supportive friend. You see a scared boy calling out for help.

“Are you okay Johnny?” You speak softly as your eyes fall to his hand clenched around the steering wheel.

“Why wouldn’t I be? We’re just cleaning a house.” He unlocks his jaw to mumble. It hurt to admit, but this defensive side of him felt like the last remnants of the Johnny that wounded you. You felt yourself subconsciously walking on eggshells when he got like this and it slightly angered you. All this progress and he was carelessly waving it off.

“Is it because of what happened after we took you home from the bar?”

Johnny’s head snapping toward you startles you a bit. “What’s “it”?” he asks incredulously.

“Why you’re acting like this. One minute you’re sweet and doting and the next you’re cold and dry. It only happens when I offer to help you with something.” You defend, tone insisting your question is in good faith.

“I-” He starts, pausing with a grumble once he notices his carelessness. “I know you said you do this because you’re a good friend, but I can’t help but feel like you’re coddling me.”

“Here you go again, Johnny. It’s not coddling you, you’re not less of a man for getting a little help!” You’re directing your bitterness at the existence of this argument at him, you can’t help it.

“Does Jisoo come over and clean your house for you?” He argues back.

“But you did. Is it okay to baby me but not the other way around? We’re both adults.”

“I was repaying you for letting me stay at your house.” Johnny tries to sanitize his tone and de-escalate things before things get out of hand. If he were to let go of the steering wheel his hands would be trembling.

“I’m here because this is about more than cleaning and you know that.” You reel yourself back immediately. You were unsure if this would help in the long run, you were getting things off both your chests. And you did ask him to be honest with you. It feels like more of a curse than a blessing, there was nothing cathartic about this. The two of you barely bickered as kids. The biggest fight you had back then was about a particularly low blow he delivered while you were following Hyuna around. You didn’t talk to each other for a few days, driving you even further into delusion. Things finally resolved after whatever happened with Hyojong. He never told you, but he approached you the next day on his knees.

“I hate myself for hurting you.”

The guilt was probably tearing him apart. You sigh, though the distance between the two of you is broad right now, you know what you need to do. You pop the door open and step out before peering your head into the car. “I’m gonna go inside, you better come in and stop me before I clean your entire house for you.” You shove the door shut.

Johnny watches as you enter his house, flinching at the smell but still closing yourself inside. There’s no way you could stand that smell for very long. You’d probably end up tossing your lunch, but he believes you’d stick it out. Stubbornness was another trait you re-developed, not that it doesn’t warm his heart. He leaves the car, slowly trudging to his front door. He dwelled on every pebble he felt beneath his soles. Fixing his car window put a hole in his pocket, and his poor broken air conditioner was a problem. Not to mention the flowers he spent months caring for. He wraps his hand around the doorknob.

All of those seemed like child’s play compared to the rot. Rotting food so far gone it was a pile of black goop with dozens of insects ravaging it. He opens the door to his empty house. You were elsewhere, he could hear you rustling through a cabinet in the distance. He walks straight to the corner of his living room where the main source of the stench was. That pile of black goo that he found himself staring at while his friends sat around, stewing in the foul atmosphere. Laughing, playing video games, trading nudes without consent. Johnny kneels down, the odor strong in his nostrils. You plod down the stairs with a bucket of soapy water clutched in your gloved hands and a mask.

With watery eyes you watch Johnny stare at the rotten food infested by pests. You approach him and kneel beside him despite the smell. You wish he would tell you what Hyojong did that day. For now, you push the bucket his way and hand him the sponge. He lingers on the sludge as a pool of tears perch on his bottom lid. He lets the tears drop as he glances over, taking the sponge.

You work on different sides of the house, cleansing it of its neglect. Spraying and scrubbing the couch where he and his friends sunk into for hours on end, tidying up the cords and controllers for his console, and cleaning that horrifying fridge. When it was all done, you focused on getting rid of the lingering smell, spraying air freshener and opening every window. Hopefully the bugs will leave with it. You plop down on a bar stool admiring that you managed to kind of return the favor. You notice Johnny hasn’t sat down, and he’s staring at a different spot now. You follow his eye line to the wall. The toothpick did more of a number on your toe, but there was a small dent, and on the floor were splotches of dried blood.

You look back up at him worriedly. That was the moment everything fell apart. You were no longer hurting each other, but also no longer in each other’s lives. Reflecting on living with him, you couldn’t imagine going back to that again. Neither could Johnny, but it’s what needed to happen. All this pain and sorrow for some popularity? For some lousy friends? Even after all he’s put you through, you’re here and they’re nowhere to be found.

“I’m sorry.” You can tell by the look in his eyes that he’s about to break down and you rush over to him. “I’m so sorry.” He sobs. You pull him into a hug, the first hug you’ve given him in years. He eagerly hugs you back, his large body encompassing you, squeezing you. You squeeze him back, both of you hiccuping and sniffling into each other’s ears. “I’m so sorry I hurt you.”

“I forgive you.” You pull away to caress his face, surveying it as you wipe his tears away. You shake your head as your cheeks fill with streaks of tears. “It’s okay, I forgive you.”

“I don’t believe you.” Johnny responds despondently. You clench your eyes shut. For a while, you didn’t believe yourself either, constantly doubting yourself as he remained within your walls. Maybe you didn't forgive him at first. What he did was inexcusable, but seeing how much pain he’s in helps you understand.

“It was a defense mechanism, but you’re okay now.” You press your forehead against his and both of you shut your eyes now. “You’re safe.” You pet his hair until his breathing calms and his arms stop trembling.

Chaeyoung raises her glass in the air with a smug grin, preparing what she was gonna dedicate her toast to. “To girls’ night!” She shouts assuredly. Mark nervously raises his glass. “To… to girls’ night?”

“To girls’ night!” Jungwoo announces proudly. You, Naeun, Jisoo, and Johnny all raise your glasses and call out the dedication before drinks are clinked together. The night has barely started when you spot Chaeyoung making a move on a flustered but embarrassingly keen Mark. Johnny and Naeun are sitting at the bar talking, and you’re against the wall with Jisoo and Jungwoo.

“Why do we come to parties and clubs when we know it’s not our scene?” Jisoo inquires to herself. Jungwoo still replies. “Hey, introverts like to get drunk or laid sometimes too.”

“That is true…” You remark with a pointed look at Jungwoo. He rolls his eyes while Jisoo grimaces. “Gross.” She groans.

“No but seriously, I wanna go back to normal again.” You whine.

“I just think you need a little more time,” Jungwoo starts, hinting at your break up, “plus, I’m not comfortable with fucking while Johnny is in the other room.”

“I’m going to the bathroom.” Jisoo drones as she peels away. You wait until she’s out of earshot to continue. You really didn’t need two bouts of pity right now.

“That’s okay because he’s leaving soon.” You swirl your drink, looking at the vortex of liquid instead of Jungwoo’s face.

“Oh. His house is fine now?” He sounds a bit awkward, knowing this is a touchy subject.

“Yup.” You pop the ‘p’, trying to play off the way your mood is being dragged to the depths of hell right now. “Well then… things will really be back to normal, right?” Jungwoo tries, hoping he didn’t accidentally step on a landmine.

You’ll go back to having sex with Jungwoo while he’s in a loving, perfect relationship. Mark seems to be hitting it off with Chaeyoung, which is interesting, but he’s back to his bubbly self, now packaged with a potentially awesome girlfriend. And Johnny is laughing with Naeun while she hits his arm. Johnny is preoccupied and soon to be moving out, and with how he’s been speaking to you recently, possibly out of your life.

“Right. Back to normal.”

Mark and Chaeyoung barely made it out of the door with how rigorously they were making out, but they made it to the back of a taxi and were probably screwing each other’s brains out by now. Jisoo and Jungwoo left early after Jisoo got drunk as fast as she usually does, all cute and limp as Jungwoo carried her away on his back. That leaves you alone, standing against the wall as you watch Johnny and Naeun. They were barely drinking, caught up in whatever riveting conversation they were having.

You should stop being weird and go over there, join the conversation, but it feels wrong. They looked right. When Naeun leans in, you can’t help the despair that rackets through you. Her lips pressing to his made you tear your eyes away. You felt like your heart would break to pieces if you watched any longer. You stumble to the nearest restroom and splash water on your face.

You should be happy. Johnny got a beautiful woman he deserved without tearing anyone down in the process. If you’re not, it’s probably because of how sad and lonely you are. Soon Jungwoo will be back and this will get better. The kiss replays against your will and you experience a second round of that horrible feeling that nearly sends you to your knees. You’re still getting over Taeyong, that has to be it.

The door opens and shuts softly behind you, and you look at him through the mirror. He finally cut his hair and shaved his facial hair. He looks down at you with those dreamy eyes and smirks.

“Did you get a little confused?”

You flick the remaining water off your hands and turn to embrace him. He mumbles a soft ‘oh’ before hugging you back. “Or is it that you’re drunk?” You haven’t had more than a sip, but you don’t answer him, instead hugging him tighter.

“Come on, let’s get you home.”

You continue to let him believe you’re drunk. You might as well be, with how delusional you’re being. Whatever the mysterious cause may be. He loads you in the passenger seat of his car and shuts the door. Naeun is trailing behind, their conversation is muffled by the door.

“One more time before we call it quits?” Naeun suggests. Johnny shakes his head, running a hand through his hair. Naeun was objectively breathtaking. Especially tonight with that dress and her hair perfectly styled. However, Johnny couldn’t change the facts. No matter how many times he laid in her bed or kissed her or had sex with her, he couldn’t force himself to be attracted to her. That would be easier right now, but his heart lies elsewhere. “Can’t. I’m sorry.”

He wants to tack on a ‘maybe next time’, but he holds off, perhaps with false hope. Either way, he’s driving away from the club without even dancing or getting drunk. He can’t be too upset, though. He peers over at you, you’re calmly looking out of the windshield.

“You’re not actually drunk, are you?’

“How could you tell.” You murmur.

“You’re not talking my head off.” You both chuckle softly.

“Johnny.”

“Hm?”

You purse your lips as you keep your gaze straight ahead. “Wanna have sex with me?”

Johnny stomps on the brake so hard it throws both of you forward. The car behind you spams their horn before driving around you while shouting obscenities. Johnny’s shoulders are up by his ears and your arms are spread out to brace yourself.

“Are you sure you’re not drunk?” Johnny asks after clearing his throat.

“We’re both adults, it doesn’t have to be a big thing.” You shrug. “We’re best friends!” He shouts back.

“Please.” You cringe after you say it but it’s already done. The silence is killing you so you shut your eyes.

Johnny drives on, unable to untense his arms. He thought he was over getting turned on by you, but maybe his nightmares didn’t kill his sexual attraction to you completely. He can feel heat starting to pool down there. You weren’t drunk and you were asking him. In theory he should be jumping at the opportunity, but he lets out a long exhale instead.

“I can’t do that.”

You laugh bitterly, tilting your head to look out your door window. “A man refusing sex is as clear a sign as I’ve ever seen.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Johnny asks in genuine confusion.

“It makes sense that you’re dating Naeun.”

“Dating?” He takes a short moment to gawk at you before returning his eyes to the road. “Naeun and I aren’t dating. It’s like you said, we’re both adults. It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

“Really?” You genuinely thought they were, you expected it to happen sooner or later. “She seems like your type.”

“Her?” He asks incredulously. “I’d be crazy to shoot that high.”

“I dunno, you’re handsome, tall, and you have the capacity to be sweet. You know, when you aren’t roasting me.” Johnny scoffs at your joke.

“Whatever.” Johnny winds down, suddenly remembering what you had just asked him. And that you just complimented him. “I’m a loser, though. I only preached about my high standards as an excuse to why I was single.” Guess it was time to start unveiling the true reasons behind his previous shitty actions. He presses his cool fingers to his cheeks.

“So you don’t like girls like Naeun and Nayeon?” You ask, as if a ‘yes I do’ won’t send you spiraling.

“I mean, it’s what people tell you to like. It feels like you’re supposed to.” Johnny ponders. “But if I actually think about it, their looks don’t affect me at all. It’s kind of… empty?”

You felt relieved, and then ashamed of that relief.

“Maybe you should think about that as well.” Johnny’s words make you look at him in confusion. “Every time you dress up you say something about if Naeun would wear it or think it’s weird.”

You take a moment to think about what he’s saying, jaw dropping open once you realize. You never noticed that you did that. Even today, every time she looked at you, you doubted your outfit choice. You straighten up in your seat and make an official goal post. You were going to wear a flashy outfit to TwitchCon. One that catered solely to your interests.

Chaekyung answers the door pretty fast. “Come in.” She urges. It was nice that she reached out to you this time. She seemed frantic over the phone and her actions now indicate that very little has changed on your ride over. Anything is better than before. You completely understand why she would be standoffish, though. Being ambushed with no one coming to your aid is a level of stress you unfortunately understand. Right now you’re effectively Taeyong, and if you’d treated him with the same caution she’s using, perhaps you’d be in a better place.

As you step into her living room you spot another figure on the couch. He has a short haircut, much shorter than the other men in your life. When he turns around you realize it’s someone you actually do know. YangYang.

He smiles nervously, standing up from the couch and approaching you, you take a step backward but he doesn’t get the memo. He pulls you into a hug. “Hey! It’s been a while.” Your arms strain under his tight grip, hands clenching into fists. You toss a questioning look at Chaekyung, giving her the benefit of the doubt. She ducks away from your stare, clearly harboring a guilty conscience.

“He wanted to talk to you.” She blurts out, still avoiding your eyes.

“That’s true.” He finally pulls away and you instantly put distance between the two of you. “What do you want?” You blink, disoriented from how sudden this all was.

“You’re the talk of the town recently! I mean you’re in the Dreamies and have your own popular group. Not to mention how everyone loves you, and I hear you’ve got Taeyong on a leash-” You cut him off, understanding perfectly now, “You want me to boost your image.”

“I mean, it could be more of an ‘I scratch your back you scratch mine’ type of thing, but essentially yes.” YangYang’s attempt at a cordial tone is nauseating at best and tonedeaf at worst. He was so close to putting you in that group chat.

“Absolutely not-”

“You already threw Lucas under the bus but I’ve still got a chance. Unless you’re planning to do that for me too, which I don’t think is entirely logical.” YangYang looks up at Chaekyung who starts vigorously nodding her head. “You saw what happened to Chaekyung here,”

He only lets you think for a short moment before he speaks again. “For you to suddenly ice me out after knowing you for so long… I mean, you did the same thing to Johnny but you clearly regret it.”

“I don’t regret it.” You respond immediately. “He needed to understand how much he hurt me, and he does now. What’s clear is that you still don’t.” You wonder if he still sees the situation as innocent fun you ruined with your bitching.

YangYang recovers quickly from your jab, most likely not absorbing it at all. “Is proving your point worth potentially ruining the reputation you worked so hard for?”

You were bigger than Chaekyung, but she was always seen as a darling on the platform. Minded her own business and was championed as the ideal girlfriend. And just like that, her social media is a ghost town overrun by gun wielding thieves itching to deliver that final blow to do her in for good. Still.

Maybe with your increased size it won’t happen to that extent, but even half of what she received was a bit stressful to imagine. Instead of one Lucas, YangYang, Doyoung, and the old Johnny, there’d be hundreds. With your scope, probably thousands. You do want to help Chaekyung, seeing her so helpless feels horrible, but a part of you did reach out to prove to yourself you could handle situations like this. That they could be fixed. Inviting her into the group would offer her new support. Or it could introduced a fuck ton of hate to everyone involved.

“Just think about it and get back to me. Here’s my number.” YangYang hands you a sliver of paper and you peer leerily at it. Just take it and get it over with. Don’t cause any trouble, you told yourself. But your stomach churned, screaming at you not to do it. Because you didn’t want to. If Johnny were here, he’d just tell you to act on that, but you were stricken with the anxiety of the outcome. Your eyes slowly pan back up to YangYang’s face. As he smirks at you, you remember Chaeyoung’s words. Imagine him making that same smirk as he snapped pictures of her and spread it around behind her back.

“No.” You state and shake your head, giving him a stern look before walking away. He and Chaekyung yell after you, just like the time you stormed out of Johnny’s house. Back then you felt so weak and small, shrinking with each step. Here, you felt much, much stronger. A smile even had the gall to stretch onto your lips as you pushed Chaekyung’s door open.

As soon as the door shut, the feeling that you made a mistake picked at you.

Should I have done that?

Did I just ruin everything?

Why did I do that?

But what were you gonna do, turn back? Apologize? Moreover, why are you glossing over how hilarious that was? The look on YangYang’s face when you rejected his offer. No, his pressure. Who did he think he was? He was so confident you’d just concede. If anyone should be the one reconsidering their actions, it’s him. You laugh heartily, definitely looking insane as you make your way to the bus stop.

You did it because you wanted to. And oh, how you’ve wanted to do that. Embarrass them like they embarrassed you, make them feel stupid.

When you get back, you feel immediately inspired to try out some looks. Johnny sits on the bed as you hold different outfits in front of your body.

“Hm, I like that skirt.” Johnny comments before making a contemplative hum. “Not the shirt?”

“No, maybe something different.” You rummage through your closet, you’d be hard pressed to find another red shirt that matched this. You pull out a long sleeved one with an apprehensive noise. “This is the only other shirt I have that matches.”

“Put 'em together.” He encourages before spreading his feet farther apart and leaning forward. You wince as you hold it to your torso. The droopy sleeves and the way it tied in the front seemed a bit much, but with the skirt and shirt together it gave a bit of a 70’s vibe. You gasp and rummage through your closet again until you find a pair of gogo boots. “Turn around!” You say excitedly, ripping your clothes off before he can even fully turn away. You admire the outfit in the mirror for a second before Johnny asks if he can turn back around.

“Okay, turn back around.” You twist your hips and lift your shoes as you fully examine the combination. “I… think you’re a visionary.” He comments dreamily.

High off of Johnny’s praise you invite him with you to the grocery store, already starting your exit before he even answers. “Just one moment. Stay just like that.” You turn halfway, startled when you hear a click. “Did you just take a picture?”

Johnny lowers his phone to give a sheepish smile before he nods. “What’re you gonna do with it?”

This time Johnny just shrugs, not having a believable excuse available. You give him a leery look before refocusing on your current objective.

“Round two.” You whisper as you walk hand in hand through the gliding doors. The doubt surfaces as soon as you’re in the presence of other people, any of them could peer at you and cast judgment at any moment. Johnny senses you faltering and squeezes your hand. It’s enough to ground you and keep you pushing. Eggs and milk. You need eggs and milk.

For the most part, it’s fine. Yes, people’s eyes are lingering on you, even turning their head to maintain their stare. But it could be worse. That thought eases your fears a bit. If this is it, people just giving you weird looks, you don’t know what you were so afraid of. You must’ve expected them to gather in a crowd and boo you out of the store.

Maybe gogo boots with a slightly 70’s inspired outfit was a bit out of the norm for grocery shopping, but you felt in your element. It felt like you were finally truly you. Walking through each aisle sparks an idea in your mind. It was definitely out of your comfort zone for now, but you can picture a good photo with the store as the backdrop.

As you reach the dairy section you hear giggling. You and Johnny both look in that direction, seeing a group of teenagers near the middle of the aisle. The two girls seem focused on their phones while the two boys are deciding on yogurt. They’re not looking at you, you tell yourself, but you still let go of Johnny’s hand to tug your skirt lower.

More of them start laughing and in your newly jittery state you glance over again. Now all of them are looking at one of the girls’ phone. This scene is all too familiar to you, like watching a nightmare unfold in real life. You’re about to convince yourself they’re laughing at a video or something, it’s not you, when they all look up from the phone at you. Smiles wide and mocking, contorting from your mind playing games. You tug at your skirt again and try to conceal as much skin as you can with the fabric at your disposal. You curse yourself for not bringing a jacket. There’s nothing you can do. You are exposed to their scrutiny whether you like it or not.

You make plans to hide behind Johnny or maybe just leave entirely. The hair was too much, you should’ve known that. Another notification buzzes in your purse like it has all day, making you scowl even further. You should’ve turned them off when you had the chance. Then another notification followed by another has you whipping your phone out to silence the disturbance. Your phone starts to go crazy, and you suspect another Tumblr picture has blown up. But looking at the screen you see they’re coming from Instagram of all places. You stopped posting frequently years ago so your notifications had slowed to almost a complete stop.

Opening the app you see that you’ve received a ton of new followers. Did someone shout out your Instagram not knowing it’s a wasteland? The first comment you see is a strange one.

‘you should post more pictures like the one Johnny posted!’

Other comments pouring in seem to all be mentioning him and some picture. You go to his profile and instantly spot the picture he took at your house. You blanch at the discovery, checking the comments against your better judgment. The constricting sensation on your heart ceases when your eyes scroll over each comment. You feel Johnny’s hand on your shoulder and tear your eyes away from the phone.

He was worried for a moment, but is content with the touched expression you have now. “You okay?” His smile fades just a little as his worry picks back up again. Instagram tells you he did this just now. Despite him not taking credit for your phone buzzing up a storm you can tell he’s satisfied.

The teenagers are still there in your peripheral, their dark clothes like an intrusive stain on your vision. Are you okay? Physically you’re perfectly fine, though your brain would like to convince you their eyes are setting your skin ablaze. Emotionally… you feel vulnerable. You glance over, meeting the eyes of one of the snickering teens. The effort to downplay your emotions is nonexistent. The voice in your brain speaks barely above a whisper because the truth is that it hurts. This sucks. You don’t like what they’re doing and it makes you feel bad.

“No,” You finally reply, peeking back at the comments again.

“Do you wanna go back home?” He asks, voice suddenly quiet to ensure they don't hear.

“No. I want…” A moment passes as you conduct your thoughts. “I– h-here.” You open your photo app and slip the phone in his hands before pushing him to the other end of the aisle. You walk backward until there’s enough space for a cart to push through. Johnny breaks from his confusion once he figures out what’s happening. He raises the phone eye level as you start posing. It’s awkward as all hell, and they’re really laughing now. You’re all over the place emotionally. Your mind is going a mile a minute with regretful thoughts and pleas to get out of here. But you’re not hurt, you’re not in pain, and you’re definitely not hurting anyone.

“Switch poses.” Johnny’s arms drop down for just a moment so you get a glimpse of his proud smile. You loosen up a bit, trying out a pose that requires a bit more confidence. With one more click, Johnny finishes taking photos and the teens have ventured elsewhere. You release a deep exhale at the sight of their absence. It feels like you had just sailed through turbulent seas during a thunderstorm, but you were fine. You did what you wanted to do and you weren’t struck down by some higher power monitoring any behavior outside the norm.

Johnny crosses over to your side to show you the pictures. “They look cool.” He comments as he swipes to the last one. The one where you were most confident, where your smile was at its most radiant. His heart skipping a beat sends a ripple through his body. “Can you send these to me?” He tries, a tiny bit anxious about if you’ll think his request is odd.

“To post?” You sheepishly look up at him and he glances away. “No, you just look really nice here.”

It was your heart’s turn to send your entire body into panic. For a moment you feared something was wrong but after it passed, you were left befuddled. The thought of someone keeping a photo of you, not because they’re in it or for some other practical reason, because you just look really nice has you suddenly smiling like an idiot.

“I’d love to.”

Was this too much? You groan and toss yet another outfit to the wayside. As you ogle all the clothing items laid out all over your bed and floor, a new question crosses your mind. Was this too little? It’s subjective, you’re aware, but this outfit has to push you out of your comfort zone for this to be a true test. You can claim you no longer care about what people think all day, but if you can’t wear a truly phenomenal outfit to this sausage fest, that will reveal the truth.

You didn’t invite Johnny to help because you need to be able to gather courage on your own. That one thought chained him to your mind as you continued your search. Oh Johnny, you thought as you reminisce on what he did. You stare at the beret in your hand, but you’re not staring at it at all. You’re looking past it as you imagine his little pleased smile. Or how proud he looked watching you pose. No, you just look really nice here.

Your eyes flutter closed, memories of him filling your stomach with such a pleasant sensation that you get lost in it. You eventually snap out of it, but during the entire process you think of different things he’s said and done.

Glancing in your closet, your Prada loafers stick out just a little from behind the door, as if to tempt you closer. You answer their call, sinking your feet into them and it feels like heaven. It almost justified the price. The rest of the outfit comes natural as pictures you’ve seen a ton of times on the internet flash behind your eyelids. This was definitely going to turn heads, you grimace slightly as you look in the mirror. You quickly note that the discomfort wasn’t from the gingham jacket or the beret. Definitely not the loafers. No, you felt great in this outfit.

Johnny felt like he was supposed to find Naeun pretty, but he keeps pictures of you in his phone. Your heartrate kicks up, generating a strange feeling so strong you’re rendered motionless.

“Oh, so when Johnny says it you believe him.” You shush Jungwoo, even placing your hands over his mouth to silence him but he just pulls them away and keeps talking. “What did I tell you? I was poetic as shit too.”

“Shut up!” You push him backward on the bed, grunting when he welcomes the change in position. “We’re literally naked and you’re running your mouth.” You swing your hips forward, shivering when your mound brushes against his member.

Instead of fucking you, like he should be doing, Jungwoo just looks at you like he’s suspicious of something. “What?!”

“Did you fuck him?”

You gasp and gear up to hit him but he’s already blocking your attempts. He’s speaking entirely too loud about someone who’s right in the living room. “I did not!”

“Good! Because I still don’t fully forgive him.” He grasps your wrists to stop your flimsy attacks, expression just a little more serious now.

“I know, Jisoo said the same thing.” You lament, not wanting to have this conversation. He doesn’t even know about the weird feelings you have when you think about Johnny.

The door opening startles both of you and you scramble to get up. Jungwoo wraps the comforter around you defensively and you would roll your eyes if Johnny wasn’t standing at your door. He looked frazzled which shooed all playfulness from your body.

“I-I’m sorry for barging in, but I think Taeyong did something. All my socials are blowing up with outrage.”

“What?” You scurry off the bed to hurriedly clothe yourself, rushing to Johnny as you bounce into your pants. “How do you know it was him?”

“It’s similar to what happened to Lucas. He threatened him and then all these random people started making allegations.”

You slip the phone from his hands and examine the screen. You and Johnny were both trending in your country. You click Johnny’s name and see exactly what he’s talking about. Anonymous accounts, other than one account from Nayeon, claiming Johnny is an asshole behind the scenes. Those weren’t damning by themselves, the news that he helped take down the group chat would defend him against that. It was the clips people found that did him in.

They were from back when he was still trying to impress the wrong people. Most of them depict him throwing jabs your way, insulting everything from your voice to your appearance. One of the clips play out loud before you could stop it.

“Do I like ___? Don’t be stupid.” Johnny snickers as the chat fills with amusement, egging him on. You wince, but it’s not like it’s anything you haven’t heard before. Still, after enduring what was essentially a prolonged rejection, that clip put everything in perspective. Seeing the clip affecting you, Johnny carefully takes the phone back.

“I just wanted to warn you so you could check your own name, make sure he didn’t get you too. Whenever you were prepared.”

To look through a bunch of hate or to grapple with you suddenly worrying if Johnny will reject you, whatever that means. You pull out your phone and check your name this time. You go still, mouth parting in shock. Just like your Tumblr, just like the comments under Johnny’s picture of you, all you see is overwhelming support. And pity, but more importantly, hatred for Johnny. The three stooges even caught fire with their clips resurfacing too. Even Taeyong for being caught laughing in some of them. But Johnny is public enemy number one.

He did say these things, and if it were aimed at anyone else you’d be calling for accountability, but you can’t help feeling bad. You lower your phone, hesitating before finally looking at Johnny. He looks worried, but you can tell it’s directed at you.

“Is everything okay?” He steps forward, placing his hands on your arms. “Yeah, did he get you too?” Jungwoo asks, who’s been silently attentive this entire time. You just shake your head. It didn’t make any sense. What, did he think you suffered enough, or was he harming you through Johnny?

“We can do something to help you. Come up with a plan. I’m sure Chaeyoung and Naeun will put in a good word for you.” Your eyes widen as a lightbulb turns on. “Naeun still hasn’t said anything about the situation. Maybe she-”

Johnny shakes his head, moving his hands to your shoulders as your voice dies away. He’s quiet for long enough that your adrenaline is winding back down and letting your worry peek through. “No, we can’t do that.” He knows very well Naeun wants nothing to do with any of this. It was about time for him to bite the bullet.

“Then what should we do?” You’re stumped, you don’t know what his next move will be. It will be extremely hard to come back from this. You’d be surprised if he wasn’t chased off the internet entirely.

He notes your tentativeness, so he opts to be vague and just ease you for now. “I have a plan.” He offers carefully.

“Well, okay. What is it?” You’re suddenly hopeful, and realizing his method wasn’t working, he sighs disappointedly. If he tells you, you’re gonna talk him out of it and stress for the rest of the night.

“I have to do it on my own.” Your hopefulness fades but you ultimately accept this answer, nodding and letting Johnny leave with no further explanation. You tried wrangling the unease in your gut but it kept festering. He was trying to avoid alarming you, you could see it from a mile away. That night you wanted to turn to him and ask what he was hiding. You ended up drifting to sleep and waking up to him not being there.

For a small, delusional moment you wondered if he had packed up and left while you were sleeping. You push your legs off the bed and stare down at the mattress. Drifting off into space, you let your phone ring one, two, three, four times before breaking free and picking it up.

“Hello.”

Jisoo says your name with concern heavy in her voice. “What’s wrong?”

“Johnny posted a statement. He came clean.”

Your heart constricts, you freeze completely in trepidation. You lower your phone to check Johnny’s account. You felt like you were going through each stage of grief with each swipe and tap. “Johnny… what did you do?”

Pinned to his account is a link with a short message attached.

‘This is long overdue’

You inhale sharply, apprehensive of what you’re about to see. He starts the message acknowledging all the criticism he’s garnered since the day prior. He apologizes to all your fans from Taeyong’s group, the Dreamies, and your new group.

‘Those clips were not only distressing to ___, but to anyone who’s endured something similar, and I know how hard it must’ve been to hear those things I said. Unfortunately, that’s not even the full scope of what I’ve put ___ through.’

You cover your mouth with your hand as realization hits you like a brick wall. You skim through the statement with jittery eyes, unable to read through the entire thing. It was hard, knowing that each word was another nail in his coffin.

‘I destroyed her confidence, making it harder for her to express herself or meet new people. I was comfortable doing it knowing it would be hard for her to leave because we meant so much to each other. All she did was trust, love, and stick by me and I spat in her face. I did it all to gain internet points and respect from people who don’t deserve respect themselves, and in doing so I encouraged behavior that would go on to hurt and strike fear into so many women. Each bigoted remark I made influenced hatred that would negatively affect many lives.’

You clumsily find footing on the floor before starting your search for Johnny. Your eyes are still glued to the phone as your eyes retrace every word. This is what you wanted, right? After all those years of endless torment, it has been revealed to the world. Now you can finally heal. Your other hand joins in grasping the phone as you skim further

‘I want to apologize one more time to all her fans or any viewers that happen upon one of her streams. If it weren’t for me you’d be seeing her at her best. She’s still amazing, but I’m afraid that she’ll never truly return to how she once was. I want to apologize to all the victims who got their pictures spread by people I enabled. If I had just pushed back even a little bit, they wouldn’t have been so comfortable doing something so cruel.

And lastly, I want to apologize to the person I hurt more than anyone else. I’m sorry, ___, for being the only one who could hurt you like I did and being just heartless enough to go through with it. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. Even when I was saying those vile things, your presence filled me with comfort and content. Just seeing you could dissuade anything bad I was feeling. And I took advantage of that while not doing right by you. I’m still doing it. So I’m gonna do right by everyone and end my streaming career here. It’s not fair to all of you that I took part in all this misfortune and even benefited and profited from it. I can’t be truly sorry for what I did without removing my ability to benefit from those I hurt.’

You pick your head up slowly until you’re making eye contact with Johnny. He smiles from the couch as if nothing’s wrong. You make your way, maintaining eye contact. He stands as you reach your desired proximity. You have so much to say to him. So much scolding to do and yet so much consoling as well. But as you open your mouth, no words are formed. No sentences constructed. Just a quiver of your lip, furrow of your brow, and an ache behind your eyes.

You fight away tears for as long as you can but they win like they always do. Years of holding back your urge to break down completely and sob in agony have gotten the best of you. But now you have your best friend back. You finally have him back and you’re not ready to lose him.

Noting your struggle to speak and incoming tears he engulfs you in a tight hug. You happily reciprocate, clenching the back of his shirt as you succumb to your tears. “I’m sorry, I knew that would make you upset.”

You whisper your forgiveness, not just for him posting that but for everything. The truth was that even though you didn’t forgive him immediately, you just wanted him around in spite of it all. While you’ll never forget what happened and how you got here, you know now that he has finally scrubbed the rot from his brain. He’s free to live with the acceptance of his wrongdoings, and you’ve never felt freer yourself.

“And don’t make a post defending me or anything.” He warns playfully. You nuzzle further into his chest. Despite him pretending there’s nothing wrong, there’s something hanging in the air you both want to address. “You’re not coming with me?” You ask in a wispy voice, tears staining his hoodie as he rocks you back and forth. You had been planning both your appearances at TwitchCon for so long. You missed the last one and this would be your first time going as a featured creator. Did he know the whole time that he wasn’t going?

Johnny sighs, drawing circles into your back. “I don’t think they’ll want me there anyway.”

You’re not sure if his statement would make everything worse or better. He admitted the bad things he’s done, but enough sincerity could make a community turn around. But he already quit and there was no guarantee the convention will be very welcoming to him. It would crush you to see people ridicule him in person. So you just hug him tighter.

TwitchCon wasn’t what was actually at the forefront of your mind. That was just meant to be the last thing the two of you did together before he moved out. Moving out was one thing, but he couldn’t be planning to distance himself after all of this, right? You pick your head up to look at him and he notices the fear in your eyes and puts the pieces together.

“I’ll drop you off and pick you back up, okay?” He brushes your hair out of your face before cupping your cheek. That wasn’t what you were worried about. You could feel a stitch in your side. “Okay.”

He parks the car before letting the silence truly set over the two of you. You play with your tennis skirt, feeling hyper aware of every different texture against your skin and what parts of it were showing.

“You’re gonna be great today. I’ll be watching your panel on my phone.” He grins proudly. You flash him a pitiful smile. God, how you wish he could actually be there. “Have fun.” He signals for you to leave, but that’ll be one more moment of interaction over. You weren’t sure how many you had left. You reach for his hand and he squeezes yours immediately. “What’s holding you up?”

You look at the time with dread. “Nothing.” You slowly pull on the handle and step out onto the concrete of the parking lot. The sound of your feet against the ground is the only thing piercing through your clouded mind.

“Hold on.” Johnny says, stumbling slightly as he steps out of his car. You whip around, hoping he’d changed his mind. You spot his phone in his hand and you scramble to get your purse over your head and on your shoulder. You get into a pose and he smiles again. Everything you do, it’s like you can feel his support, he doesn’t have to say a thing. Right after the camera is lowered, your anxiety peaks again. He approaches you with the screen facing your way, displaying one of the pictures he took. You look at the picture and then at him in confusion. He points at the picture.

“You see her? Because I see someone confident in what she’s wearing.” He smirks.

“Well I see someone feigning confidence so the picture looks nice.” You correct with your own brand of pessimistic smugness.

“Every time I’ve taken a picture of you, your smile is the most genuine I’ve ever seen it.” He peers at the picture fondly before looking back up at you. “I feel like that confident girl is in there somewhere. She peeked out her head in the grocery store.” His frame curls over you until your faces are dangerously close. Something must’ve happened, something completely unheard of, because you get the urge to kiss him suddenly. The urge is strong and leaves your body humming and chest tightening.

“I believe in you.” He pats your shoulder before squeezing it. He walks back to his car and you finally enter the building. Greeting fans and making your way through each room feels like a flurry of moments you never fully focus on. A hazy thought in the back of your mind makes you aware of Jaehyun’s absence, you numbly wonder if it’s because of the clips. You feel as though you're on the outside watching yourself as you venture through, meeting up with Chaeyoung and the rest of your group.

Chaeyoung leads all of you to some room secluded from the busyness of the convention. You’re surprised to see Naeun already sitting in one of the chairs. “Naeun? Hi! What’re you doing here?”

Her smile crinkles her eyes. “What, I can’t support my girls?” She argues, clutching something in her hands. She looks hesitant as she stands from her chair before revealing her creator pass. All the girls gasp. “Also, this.”

“Oh my god?” Chaeyoung walks up to her before hugging her. You and everyone else follows suit, surrounding her with your mass of bodies.

“You’re streaming again?!” Dahyun asks excitedly. Naeun makes a strained noise before confirming. “I can’t believe it!” Jinsol muses.

“We’re happy you’re back.” You add before everyone peels back one by one with wide smiles. She smiles at everyone before her eyes land on you. She rubs your arm before giving a pointed look. “You ready?”

You want to say you’re not and curl into a tiny ball, but you wipe the thought from existence. You don’t let your pessimism fester and stretch a wide grin on your face. “Yep! I’m ready!”

If you thought the main section of the convention was busy, the panel room was beyond packed and loud. There was no room to think, just constant noise muffling your ears. You and your members stand just off stage and await for your name to be called. Taeyong’s new group goes before you, and you wonder if that was done purposely to drum up drama and spawn juicier questions. Their panel concludes and he and Nayeon don’t spare you a glance. He technically didn’t break your deal, but you still couldn’t contain your anger for him. It took everything in you not to chase after him and confront him.

“Next up we have a few members of the Dreamies and Pansies!” The room fills with rapturous applause and cheers, making your ears ring as you step on stage. You wince, squinting at the bright lights aimed at you. You sit at the third seat down, glancing over at Mark before flashing a brief smile as he sits next to you. Naeun sits on your other side and you prepare to start, just like you agreed. Your throat goes dry as soon as you open your mouth. You furrow your brows as you try to focus your thoughts. Of course, just like every time your brain goes wild, you think of Johnny and remember he’s watching.

“If high school me knew she’d grow up and still have to do public speaking again she would’ve been pissed.” You chuckle awkwardly and the room fills with light laughter. You clear your throat. “Okay. Hi, I’m ___. I’m a member of both the Pansies and the Dreamies. We didn’t expect Naeun to be joining us today-” The crowd erupts once again, their cheering and whistling bringing a soft yet thoughtful smile to Naeun’s face. You peer at her as you wait for the cheering to die down again. She looks at you too and you return her smile. “But I think it was fitting being that we’re chatting about unity on Twitch.”

Each person takes turns introducing themselves before the crowd applauds again. “So, I think it goes without saying that unity is really needed right now. The community feels as though it’s gone through a shift after relatively recent events. I’ve seen and experienced first hand how scary it can be to have no one offer support in a time of need. To get dogpiled and ridiculed with everyone turning a blind eye and letting it happen. Sometimes we can’t stop bad things from happening, but that doesn’t mean we should sit by and do nothing.”

You continue following a rough guideline of what you practiced, but the passion took control and made things easier. Different members of the panel added their two cents. You were ready to add one more thing when the host announced it was time for questions. The time flew right by, and here you thought you’d be stumped and the conversation wouldn’t flow. Everyone seems to be just as passionate.

Various people raised their hands for a question. It started with questions for Chaeyoung, then Naeun who of course had nearly the entire room raising their hand. Then you, and to your surprise, there were just as many hands. You were just about to get excited when you realized it was probably because of Johnny’s controversy. You scan the room before pointing to someone near the middle. “You in the black turtleneck.” You purse your lips as they’re handed a microphone. He looks like he was already amused by his question. “Where did you come up with the name Panies?” He speaks, and an involuntary smile spreads across your face.

“There are like thirty different associations for each flower, but I don’t know, pansies have always meant a lot to me.”

“Some say they symbolize nostalgia or remembrance, but my favorite interpretation is that of love. It’s generic, but it’s not just romantic love. It can be platonic too, and I thought that was nice.”

Then it’s Mark’s turn. After him is Haechan, then Jeno. It circles around to you and restarts one more time. Before long it’s back to you, and you’re high off the pleasant and light atmosphere. Everyone seems to be having fun, and maybe you’re imagining it, but the audience seems to care for your cause as well. “You in the purple shirt and jean jacket.” You point.

“The topic is unity, and you worked hard to get that group chat taken down,” applause interrupts her and you smile shyly. “But why have you been so silent about… everything. Literally everyone else has talked about it now except you and Naeun. Naeun was taking a break from social media, so that makes sense. But you…?” She waits for you to fill the blanks in a seemingly courteous move. Unfortunately, her trailing off only makes the uncomfortable silence that falls over the room more apparent.

You had let the dilemma of your statement fall to the depths of your mind. People weren’t really talking to you about it or telling you to do it anymore. But even now you were still feeling hesitant. You peer out into the sea of people staring at you, awaiting your response so they could react or judge accordingly. Maybe you’ll be the first panel to be booed off stage. Only one way to find out.

“If she doesn’t want to speak about it, she doesn’t have to-”

“I was propositioned by YangYang twice.” You start, stopping Mark in his tracks. Everyone on the panel looks at you in shock. It’s dawning on you that Mark and Chaeyoung are the only people who know. Everyone else just thought your statement would be about condemning the people you used to hang out with all the time, or expressing generic sympathy. “I was lucky enough to have someone in my life to stop me from making a mistake. They recognized I wasn’t in a sound state, and YangYang wanted to take advantage of that. I know not many girls are coming out against any of the people involved, but I think it’s important to listen to the people that are.” The crowd is quiet and you can’t tell if it’s because they’re listening or because they’ve been put off. You think that if you stop for too long you’ll lose the confidence to continue, but you think harder. The crowd could pull out hidden tomatoes and start lobbing them at you but you’re not sure you’d stop.

“Listen, I just wanted to do something I found fun with people I cared about. I’m not here to nag you, but even the thought of my body being posted and spread around to people feels fucking horrible. Despite this, the thing I was most afraid of was the backlash I’d receive if I said anything. And I don’t think that’s right, no, it just isn’t right. I spoke to YangYang, and he was more at ease than I was. I’m sorry to all the victim’s who’s statements were deemed even a smidge less credible due to my silence, because there’s nothing I should be afraid of.”

The silence that overtakes the room is almost deadly, but you only notice the overwhelming relief you feel. You��ve been harboring these emotions under high security but now they’re finally free. In the midst of your euphoria, a few people start to clap until applause ripples across the entire room. There were no hoots or hollers, but a few people stood to amplify the feeling of silent respect. Mark stands up, pulling you up by your arm and using that same arm to tug you into a hug. After you pull away, Naeun is waiting for you. She gives you another hug, and it’s not very long until you’ve hugged everyone on the panel.

It went exceedingly better than you thought it would. All that worrying seems silly now that your heart is filled to the brim with joy. It’s that type of joy that keeps you brimming for hours. The type of joy you want to share with somebody. Maybe you’re greedy, but even with all these things working in your favor, you’re still interested in something more. As you walk through the lengthy corridor, your happiness slowly fades to make way for a deep yearning. Something so carnal it shuts off your critical thinking.

The need grows as you approach Johnny’s car, realizing he stayed here the entire time. As you open the door and sit in the passenger seat you ignore his praise and questions. There was something ever present on your mind since he dropped you off that you needed to take care of before you could answer his puzzled calls of your name. You lean over the console and grab his face before mashing his lips against yours. You feel his face get hot and it’d be comical if your body wasn’t raising in temperature as well. The electricity was flowing stronger than it ever had, pricking at your skin and raising the hair on your arms.

Johnny pulls away briefly to readjust and make for a less of a blur of lips. It’s not much better with how hungry the two of you are for each other. Especially for Johnny, who’s anticipation for this moment was years in the making. You feel your ears burn as you push your tongue past his lips to let them flip and curl against each other. Dangerously, arousal quickly takes root and it’s evident by the way your hands start to roam.

A hand slides between your breasts before curling around your throat. You gasp lightly, parting ways to unload a heated gaze onto each other. The heat slowly dissipates from both of you until you’re fully seated again. Johnny silently starts the car.

You barely make it through the door let alone get your shoes or jackets off. A trail of clothes is haphazardly left behind until Johnny is hoisting you onto your bed with your skirt not fully removed yet. He finishes the job before pushing you back until you sink into your comforter, looking up at him with lust soaked eyes.

He isn’t completely sure if it was what you were silently requesting, but he makes the move anyway, wrapping his large hand around your throat again. Your lips part further and your eyes flutter shut. Never had he felt intoxication to the extent he felt now. He felt like he’d vibrate right off the bed. He captures your lips again as his other hand moves up to cup your right breast. He kneads it first, loosening his hand around your throat to hear the full extent of your noises. Even the breathy sighs and gasps you're making now fill his lungs with a blazing fire.

He goes from kneading to squeezing to pinching, paying attention to what earns him the sweetest noise. He felt like a teenager again, when he’d lie stiff in bed imagining what you’d sound like when he touched certain places. A sharp inhale when he sucked at the right spot on your neck followed by a strong shudder. The first moan, albeit soft, when he flicked your nipple with his tongue. A long hiss when he nipped at it or blew cold air to make it fully perk up. He could spend all day learning what makes you tick until you’re screaming for the real thing. He thinks he just might, but he’s reminded of the unlikeliness of that with a throb of his cock. Johnny needs you, he needs you right now. But if he fucks you too soon he knows he’ll cum embarrassingly fast.

Johnny’s kisses make obscene wet noises as his lips travel down your torso. You whimper and hide your face against your shoulder. You never felt this sensitive with Jungwoo. A rush thrums up your legs when you realize where his mouth is going. It’s still wet and making noises even more obscene as he goes straight for tonguing your slit. Your lips aren’t even spread and he can still tell how wet you are. The thought thrills him so much it brings out an involuntary moan. He spreads you open with two fingers before flicking his tongue against your exposed clit. Your legs twitch and the crazed bastard unfortunately notices. He continues his efforts until your poor legs are twitchy messes and your stomach is whooshing from the raw friction.

His name on your lips is a broken, squeaky mess but it eggs him on nonetheless. A finger in your clenching hole forces a shattered cry out of you. You reach down in a blind search for his hair before tugging the strands between your fingers. Your own hips betray you, stuttering toward his face to bring about an even stronger sensation. Your squeaks build until they’re a string of loud, cut-off moans that make him hum into your cunt. You shudder again with a surprised giggle at how violent the feeling is. You feel like you’re shoved over the edge, hips bucking wildly against his face as you cum around his finger. One finger, you think with another disbelieving laugh.

He was experiencing his own high from making his over decade long crush cum like that. He kisses you with your essence still on his chin, smearing onto yours. You pull him back with both hands, a ravenous look in your eyes.

“You better not fucking leave.” You mutter breathlessly. The thing keeping him from staying seemed to no longer be an issue. “You don’t even have to worry about that.”

You go to devour him again but he only accepts it for a few seconds before flipping you over. He hoists you on your hands and knees before positioning himself behind you. He slaps his rock hard cock against your clit and makes your knees buckle, but his other arm is still holding you in place. “I don’t have a condom.”

“I don’t either.” You reply impatiently. Explaining that you and Jungwoo used them up would take much too long. “I’m on the pill and clean. Please stuff me full already.”

Your words deliver a blow to his chest and nearly make him pass out, but he comes back to his senses to line himself up and finally treat his throbbing cock. You sigh as he pushes through, but he makes a strangled grunt. Passing each ridge of your cunt is him succumbing to the chokehold further and further. The pleasure is red hot, pulsing in his joints and almost causing him to collapse on top of you. His hand leaves the few inches of his shaft still exposed in favor of one of your breasts, making you clench around him.

Johnny curses under his breath. “I don’t think I’m gonna be able to hold back.”

“It’s okay, I can handle it.”

“Yeah?” He throws his hips forward experimentally and earns an especially loud moan. He keeps your hips steady with his other hand as his hips push flush against yours. You haven’t fucked many people, but Johnny had to be objectively scarily long. You thought Jungwoo was, but you can feel this man in your navel. “You sure you can handle it?”

His words acted as a warning but his hands were caressing your body so softly. His hand dipped down your stomach and lifted back again to give a tender squeeze to your breast. His actions drive him even madder, especially when he digs his fingers into your thighs, biting his lip. He just couldn’t get enough of your soft skin under his fingers. Touching places he only dreamed about and convinced himself he’d never get to touch.

Johnny was starting to appreciate that he wasn’t using a condom when he thought about really filling you up. Even if a romantic relationship doesn’t somehow come from this, he thinks he may be fine stuffing you full of cock and cum until your bodies physically can’t take it anymore. Just being with you or in you was enough.

“I love you.” He lowers against your back, breath tickling against your ear as he flicks his hips. You tremble, ass squishing against his pelvis with each knock of his hips. You’ve felt so loved throughout this journey with him, but you crave something more. “I know, I love you too.”

“No,” He starts softly next to your ear, “I really love you, ___.”

Your heart throbbing is so jarring you gasp. Johnny slips from the gaping tunnel he made inside you to let you turn and look at him. Your eyes flicker between his, searching for the information you need before you even ask. “You mean it?”

“Of course.” He chuckles, brushing his thumb over your lips and then your cheek. “I’ve wanted you from the first time I ever saw you. Even when I didn’t want to admit it.” He plants a tender kiss on your lips, the first coherent one you ever shared. Clearly communicating your evolved love for one another.

You reach for the tip of his member, never breaking the kiss, and line him up again. He groans from the feeling of your warm hand around him before biting your lip when he feels your wet hole again. You help him sink in by raising your hips and it feels different than the first time. Like you were experiencing your old friend like you never had before. You disconnect to drink each other in, gazing longingly at one another as he fully sheathes inside you. Your mouths hang open until noises finally break through. Desperate keens and whines fill each other’s ears as your faces fill each other’s eyes. As if you want to carve each other into your minds.

Your bodies are pressed together and you can feel the other’s heartbeat. His thrusts are shallow, keeping you full at all times as his tip kisses your cervix. You feel your neck flush, your entire body tingling as the pleasure builds, snowballing until aching whimpers are the only sounds emitting from your throat. “I’m close-”

Everything Johnny feels contributes to his incoming high and when he hears those words, it’s like time slows down. “I want you to cum around me so bad.” His thrusts get harsher, balls slapping against your asshole. Your head thrashes against your bed as wet heat fills your lower abdomen. “Johnny!” You gasp as your walls flutter around his cock.

Your face twists and contorts as you massage his dick, flooding it with your arousal as you cum. With a handful of your breast clenched in one of his hands, he cums soon after, slit spurting semen deep within you.

You’re both immediately rushing to embrace one another, not worrying about the mess, how sweaty you both are, nothing but wanting to stay as close as humanly possible.

//|\\

Epilogue;

The main thing the realtor kept stressing was the rich soil. “That paired with your spacious backyard will make for a breathtaking garden.”

You just wanted a pool. It turns out in-ground pools are a lot more expensive than you thought. No wonder only filthy rich people had them. But, you guess it was for the best. If you had gotten a pool, Johnny wouldn’t have been able to show you just how breathtaking a garden could be. You rest your fists on your hips with a huff.

“That bastard… that skilled bastard.” Jungwoo mimics your pose, shaking his head as he takes in the garden. You mentioned something about not wanting your backyard to look rustic or farm-like, and he clearly took note.

Various stone pathways wind through your backyard and are bordered by a colorful array of tulips, larkspurs, and lilies. A line of rocks keep clumsy feet from stomping his hard work. One path leads to an outdoor movie setup. You can already imagine inviting all your friends over for a movie night. Another leads to a seating area to read or eat. Lastly, the main path starting from your patio leads to a lush, vibrant flower bed that livens up the entire backyard.

Skilled was putting it lightly. “I knew he was good with his hands but…”

“You’re ruining this moment.” Jungwoo cuts his eyes at you.

“Why are you still here? Your services are no longer needed.” You turn to him once you realize. You just needed relief quickly and Johnny has been busy for obvious reasons. You were a little surprised when he suggested that.

“I still can’t believe he doesn’t care. I’m worried, did I fuck around and now I’m waiting for the subsequent finding out the kids are talking about?” Jungwoo turns and looks at you as if he’s figured it all out. That couldn’t be, he seemed so nonchalant about it. Part of you thinks it’s because he knows sex with him is much better. But why would you tell Jungwoo that?

“Yeah, I think you should go into hiding.” You reply sardonically.

“Oh my god.”

“Hey!” Johnny calls, propping the door open with his side as he lugs out a heavy can of paint. “I wasn’t done yet.” His expression falls to disappointment when he sees Jungwoo. “What’s he still doing here?”

“He fell for your trap, but he found out you were planning to kill him.” You turn toward the house where he had fully emerged and he drops the can with a loud impact. He looked devastatingly handsome, even a dash of paint on his face. “How am I gonna surprise attack him now?” He joins in on the joke instantly.

“I hate you guys.” Jungwoo deadpans when you both laugh. “I’m leaving, enjoy your murderous, talented boyfriend.” He passes a beaming Johnny and enters your house.

He makes his way over before grabbing both your hands. You raise on the tips of your toes to press a short, tender kiss to his lips. “How much do you usually charge for this sort of thing?”

“It’s on the house since this is my house as well.”

“That’s good to know.” Your cheeks nearly push your eyes close. You find your cheeks are hurting a lot these days. His smile drops for a moment when vulnerability peeks through.

“D’you like it?” He asks softly. Oh Johnny, you think. Never understanding just how much he impacts every aspect of my life.

You purse your lips, but there’s nothing you could do to dull your smile. Standing in your brand new backyard with your boyfriend felt like a proper start to a new chapter.

“I love it.”

taglist; @baehaechannie @maximumdreamchild @safariria @maliakealoha

#sorry for the naeun vs nayeon #and now chaeyoung vs chaekyung #I hope it isn't confusing #don't ask me how I feel about this #johnny #nct #nct 127 #smut #angst #fluff #johnny smut #jungwoo #taeyong #nct smut #nct 127 smut #cynics #AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH #johnny angst #nct angst

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