#[ trish. ] if you get sick of it; you can always come back here. / why that's uncharacteristically kind of you.

[iniziare]

Tag drop: Dante of Sparda (Part 2/2).

[hohuios]

Tag drop: 2/2

[blitzturtles]

Title: Fever (Ao3)

Rating: Teen and Up

Fandom: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Vento Aureo

Pairing(s): BruAbba, AbbaBru, (Platonic) Bucci Gang

Summary: “Hey, so… where’s Booch?” Mista asks, leaning back in his seat.

All eyes are on him suddenly, before they gravitate to the chair that Bucciarati frequently takes up as his own.

Notes: For Day 1 of Sicktember, "Fever", because I never do anything on time. @sicktember

The morning goes like any other. One by one, the Don’s closest filter into the kitchen to get their first cup of coffee and whatever they feel like scrounging up for breakfast. There’s mundane conversation between the more wakeful lot; they aren’t allowed to talk about work until everyone’s finished their meals, which means the conversation doesn’t get much more interesting than whatever they’ve managed to get up to since the night before. It’s an odd sort of rule, but it helps to ensure that they can maintain some boundaries between their professional and personal lives, which further guarantees that they get more time together as a family, rather than as a team.

“Hey, so… where’s Booch?” Mista asks, leaning back in his seat.

All eyes are on him suddenly, before they gravitate to the chair that Bucciarati frequently takes up as his own. It’s empty with no sign that the man has made it downstairs, despite their designated breakfast time ticking by.

Narancia elbows Abbacchio to get his attention when he doesn’t seem to pick up on the same thing the rest of them have. He makes a motion for Abbacchio to take off his headphones and repeats the question.

“How should I know?” Abbacchio deflects with practiced ease, but there’s an edge to his tone. Sharper than even his usual morning demeanor calls for, and it’s clear--from the way his eyes fixate on Bucciarati’s spot--that he’s as concerned as the rest of them.

“You sleep in the same room,” Fugo points out, matter-of-fact and oblivious to the daggers that Abbacchio shoots in his direction.

“Yeah, well--” Abbacchio falters. He doesn’t actually have a reply for that.

“Maybe we should go check on him?” Trish asks, ever the most reasonable of the bunch, aside from perhaps Giorno.

“You don’t need to go… crowding him,” Abbacchio trails off as Mista and Narancia race out of their seats, already making a beeline for the stairs. He sighs and gets up to follow them.

What he doesn’t tell the group won’t hurt them. They don’t need to know that Bruno had been complaining of a headache the night before, or that he crashed unusually early. Or that he had been less than compliant about waking up with Abbacchio.

“So much for ‘just a headache’,” Abbacchio mutters under his own breath as he follows the kids up the steps. He can hear the rest behind him, each as eager as the first two to check in on their once-leader. “Hey, knock it off,” he calls when he finds Mista and Narancia outside the door to their bedroom, banging on it obnoxiously.

“But he’s not answering!” Narancia whines, dramatic and loud.

“And you think this will help?” Abbacchio raises his eyebrows, but he moves to unlock the door. The moment he opens it, he can see what his tired eyes failed to notice earlier. Bruno’s face, as little of it that is visible, is bright pink. There’s sweat clinging to his brow, and it’s obvious he’s been tossing and turning since Abbacchio left, which means he likely spiked a fever sometime recently.

Abbacchio ignores the kids in favor of making his way to the bed. He frowns at the dry, parted lips and the labored breathing that greet him. Bruno’s eyes haven’t so much as cracked open a hair, despite the sheer volume of Mista and Narancia. The rest of the gang catching up doesn’t seem to phase him either, even though none of them seems to be capable of shutting up.

Without thinking, Abbacchio undoes the clips that must have been left in from the night before. It speaks volumes to how poorly Bruno felt at the time. He always takes his hair down before bed, and Abbacchio isn’t sure how he missed that not-so-little detail.

“What’cha doing?” Narancia asks, startling Abbacchio out of his thoughts.

“He doesn’t like it when his hair gets sweaty,” Abbacchio explains without thinking. He splits Bruno’s bangs down the middle to pin them on either side of his face. It isn’t the most fashionable look, but it should hold.

“Guess you would know, huh?” Mista asks with a raised eyebrow.

Abbacchio feels his cheeks burn red at the suggestion, and he turns around to give the kid his best death glare. “That’s not what I meant.”

Mista throws his hands up quickly, “I was joking.”

“Don’t,” Abbacchio answers gruffly. He turns back to Bruno, trying to work out the best way to take out his top braid without disturbing him too much. He settles for loosening it instead, careful to avoid tugging it in a way that might pull. The point is to reduce the pressure, not add to his discomfort.

“He wears his hair down when he goes fishing,” Giorno speaks with such sincerity that it’s all Abbacchio can do not to snap at him, too. Plus, it would probably disappoint Bruno. If he were awake.

“Yeah, I pointed that out too. It’s weird.” Abbacchio shrugs. He would think that having your hair stuck to your skin with salt water would be worse than sweat, but he guesses that Bruno finds some nostalgia in it. He’s long given up on understanding certain things about his partner.

“I think it’s safe to say he’s sick,” Fugo points out, breaking the silence that follows. “We should probably get his fever down.”

“Right, yeah!” Narancia nods enthusiastically, then stops for a moment and looks dumbfounded, “How’d we do that?”

Fugo smacks him on the back of the head, “With medication and cold towels, obviously.”

“Hey!” Narancia spins on his heels, so he’s facing the other teen. He crowds in on Fugo until their chests are pressed together and Fugo’s reaching for something in one of his pockets.

“Cut it out!” Abbacchio snaps at both of them. He pinches the bridge of his nose and wonders why he ever let the whole group up here in the first place. He’s more than capable of taking care of Bruno on his own, even if he had missed the earlier signs.

“I can go get medicine,” Trish says, a bit meek compared to her usual self, and she’s gone before anyone can say otherwise.

“I’ll go get towels?” Giorno looks uncertain. He’s never had to deal with anyone else’s illness before. Not like this, and he’s always taken care of himself while sick. Usually by pushing through until his body sorted itself out.

“I’ll go with you,” Fugo offers with a half-smile. It’s meant to be reassuring, and Giorno seems to take it as such.

Abbacchio’s just relieved to have less people around. Mista and Narancia linger, but he elects to ignore both of them in favor of tucking the blankets in around Bruno. The best thing for a fever is to sweat it out, after all.

By the time the other three get back, Narancia and Mista have made themselves busy by going in search of a thermometer. It’s really more like a competition between the two, but Abbacchio doesn’t care as long as it keeps them distracted.

“I brought some water, too,” Trish says as she extends her bounty to Abbacchio. In one hand is a bottle of water; in the other is the medication she must have scavenged her own medicine cabinet for. That or the Team first aid kit. There’s actually a few of those throughout the house, but Bruno’s the only one that bothers stocking them, and that’s only when he knows to. For the most part, they run out of supplies because someone uses them without remembering to say anything later.

“We got hand towels in a bowl of ice water. It should keep him going for a while,” Fugo explains as he nods to the bowl that Giorno’s carrying and deposits his collection of towels on one of the bedside tables. He takes one and unfolds it enough to make a thin strip out of it. He dunks it into the water and squeegees out the excess before handing it to Abbacchio.

“Thank you,” Abbacchio says, taking the towel and placing it gently on Bruno’s forehead. It’s worrisome that he hasn’t stirred in the slightest. That despite all the ruckus, he’s remained sound asleep. Part of Abbacchio wants to leave him that way, but he knows getting the fever reducer in him will help him faster than the towels will. He gently shakes his partner’s shoulder and calls his name until familiar blue finally peaks open.

Bruno’s eyes are red around the edges, and there’s no focus to them. He blinks at Abbacchio a few times. Slow and owlish.

“You’re sick,” Abbacchio explains with little to-do. “You just gotta take these, and you can go back to sleep.”

A quiet hum is all he gets in response, and it’s damn near enough to convince Abbacchio to take Bruno to the nearest hospital. He’s never known Bruno to be cooperative a day in his life. Not when it comes to being sick or injured, but he forces himself to be reasonable. To think logically. Bruno isn’t indestructible. He’s allowed to feel like shit, and that means he’s allowed to want nothing more than to be left alone to sleep off the worst of whatever bug he’s managed to catch.

“I know,” Abbacchio murmurs, more to himself than Bruno. He helps Bruno sit up enough to take the pills and helps him back to lying down after that. He fixes the blankets and puts the wet towel back on Bruno’s forehead. Once he’s all settled, it takes only seconds for Bruno to pass back out.

“It’s weird seeing him like this,” Fugo admits, quietly.

“I don’t like it,” Trish’s voice is somehow softer, but there’s more to it. Her tone holds something else, and Abbacchio curses himself for not picking up on it sooner.

“He’ll be fine,” he says, doing his best to be reassuring. The problem is that he generally isn’t. “It’s been awhile, but Bruno does get sick.”

“Yeah,” Fugo says quickly, eyes following Abbacchio’s. “He’ll be fine, probably by tomorrow. Besides, Giorno can help if he needs to, right?”

Giorno looks a little startled to be pulled into the conversation, but he’s quick to nod, “If there’s any kind of damage, I can replace it.”

“See? All good. You all should get to work. It’s late already,” Abbacchio points out. Never mind the fact that he doesn’t plan on leaving Bucciarati’s side, which means they’re down, not one, but two men for the day. “And, if you see Narancia or Mista, tell them to forget about the thermometer.” The best thing they can do for Bruno at this point is leave him alone and let him rest.

“Right, yeah, let’s--let’s do that,” Trish says, stumbling over her words as much as her feet. She’s quick to reach for the door, obviously relieved to be dismissed without having to do so herself. Abbacchio can’t blame her. He doesn’t like seeing Bruno like this either, but he doesn’t have a recently deceased-from-illness parent at the forefront of his brain. He knows how much that still eats at Bruno. He can only imagine what it does to a teenager whose memories of the event are fresh.

Fugo follows her with a simple nod of his head at Abbacchio. A small sign of his appreciation that someone is taking care of the man that he sees as his savior, even now. Abbacchio mimics the gesture in acknowledgement and almost turns his attention back to Bruno before he notices Giorno, lingering by the door.

“What?”

“It’s--” Giorno swallows, “It’s nothing. Take your time. We can work out whatever we need to until he’s feeling better.”

“I will,” Abbacchio says with a tone that’s almost dismissive. Truthfully, he’s grateful for the permission. To hear it aloud rather than to think it to himself, but he won’t admit that. Least of all to Giorno. “Don’t forget to take the other two with you.”

“I will,” Giorno echoes with the slightest curve of his lips.

Cheeky little shit, Abbacchio thinks, but he watches Giorno with a near fondness reflecting in his gaze. It’s odd how much the little bastard has grown on him. Not, he supposes, unlike the rest of them. Maybe it’s all the time they spend together, given Abbacchio’s position in Investigations. Or maybe it’s the mutual concern for Bruno’s wellbeing. Whatever it is, Abbacchio’s glad the kid sees things his way. Just this once.

[skvaderarts]

Hiraeth Chapter 55: Disclosure

Masterlist can be found Here!

Chapter Fifty-Five: Disclosure

Note: I know you’ve been waiting a long time for the answers, and now you’ve got them. This is the beginning of the end in regards to the secrets surrounding Belial’s Arc and what he hopes to gain. Enjoy… if you can.

(-~-)

It didn’t take long for everyone present in the house to make their way to the living room, especially once it was revealed that information pertaining to them had been unearthed. Despite the fact that Brenowin and Morgan hadn’t known Sirrus for more than about a day, the fact that everyone else seemed to know or otherwise welcome him was really all that it took for them to be willing to at least listen to him. And from what they could tell, he had no compelling reason to lie to them about anything.

Making the executive decision that it was probably best that they all know about what was going on, Dante called Lady and Trish, both of whom were luckily not far away, and seemed to have just finished a job a few hours prior. They agreed to come over and see what was going on despite the fact that it was probably a bit too early for them. They both sounded like they had just woken up when they’d answered the phone. That would surely get him shot in the head later on.

But what was more of a surprise to anyone that knew him was the fact that Vergil had actually made a similar decision. Taking a moment to step aside and make a phone call, Vergil had subsequently disappeared for several minutes to go and fetch Magnolia, something that had gone completely unnoticed until they had come back through the front door together just a short while after. It wasn’t a new notion that Vergil was capable of benign stealthy, but none of them had realized until then that he was able to dip out of a crowded room and just disappear from everyone’s consciousness. Perhaps they had spent too much time actively tuning him out until now? Even Dante hadn’t noticed at the time, more than likely because he’d been talking to Lady on the phone.

Within a few minutes of their return, Lady and Trish came around, and they had brought along Morrison. According to them, they had run into him as they were leaving, the middle man presumably interested in getting in contact with them to offer a job. Or, at the very least curious as to how well the last job they had been on together had gone for them. Dante wouldn’t have been surprised if Morrison had been the one to provide them with whatever work they had been doing lately. He was resourceful like that.

As was Ludwig family tradition at that point, Flora made a fresh pot of tea that everyone was welcome to share. If she was going to sit there and listen to Sirrus talk for goodness knew how long, she wasn’t going to do it without a cup of tea in her hands, especially since Magnolia had brought a tray of macaroons with her when she’d arrived. Vergil’s timing couldn’t have been more perfect, in her opinion.

“Ok, so what’s up?” Nero said nonchalantly as he sat down on the couch next to V. Considering everything that had happened recently, he was pretty sure that nothing Sirrus could say would be particularly shocking to him, and he was hoping that he wouldn’t be proven wrong in that regard. “You said that you had something to tell us?”

Sirrus nodded, watching as everyone settled in and made themselves comfortable. At least he wouldn’t have to worry about repeating himself. The only person who wasn’t there was Nico, but it would have taken several hours for her to reach their location. Or perhaps it wouldn’t, considering her driving skills... 

“First, I’d like to start by making it clear that I have obtained some of this information from Aluta and Willow, so if you’d like more in-depth information, you will have to contact them. I’m just the messenger in that regard.”

Various members of the team either shrugged or nodded in response, silently indicating that they would like for him to continue. He leaned back against the corner of the wall nearest to the window, the warmth from the fireplace licking his subconscious as he tuned its presence out, for the most part, noting its existence, but not sparing much in the way of attention to it. He drew a long breath before proceeding, sure that he was about to ruin several people’s day in the process. Oh, how he hated that sort of thing. Being the bearer of bad news was never pleasant, but in cases like this, it was a necessary evil. One way or another, someone was going to have to tell them. It might as well be him.

Gesturing for him to continue, Vergil sat down in one of the armchairs nearest to the couch. He wasn’t quite sitting next to V, but he was as close to doing to as it was possible to be without actually doing it. The young summoner seemed to silently note this for a moment, allowing his gaze to travel towards how father, but otherwise not reacting. He was clearly anticipating bad news, and considering everything that was going on and the fact that he was locked in a losing battle against a devil prince, that was more than understandable.

“Now that we have that out of the way, I’d like to say that I’m genuinely sorry to always be the bearer of bad news in these instances. What am I, the wild hunt?” Sirrus scoffed and shook his head before realizing that that at least half of the people in the room didn’t have any idea what that even was. He then sighed and folded his arms around himself. “Would you prefer that I get straight to the point, or go into a bit more detail?”

“Considering the implications of what I assume you are here to tell us, I would prefer the former and then the latter,” V said softly, rubbing his arm absentmindedly in an attempt to soothe it. Just thinking about what was going on was enough to make the malevolent ink that coursed his veins tingle from excitement, something that the rest of his biological composition didn’t approve of or appreciate very much.

Putting his arm behind his back, Sirrus nodded in a manner more akin to that of a curtsy than anything else. He glanced over at Morgan who in turn nodded in agreement. She didn’t need him to ask for her to be able to tell that he was awaiting her permission to continue. He then cleared his throat before leaning over and pouring a few sips of wine that he summarily gulped down in the least refined manner possible. He hadn’t spoken a word yet, and he already hated this conversation.

“Fair enough. I suppose nothing worthwhile is accomplished by beating around the bush all day, is there? We all have things to do and places to be.” He went in for another topped-off glass, indirectly signifying to everyone in the room that he almost certainly didn’t want to be here talking about this right now. “The Ludwin family sent some of their family members to go and investigate Belial’s activities and they have found an almost definitive answer as to what he wants with both Morgan and V. I trust that you don’t need me to tell you it’s not to simply spread the good word.”

“No, I suppose you do not.” Vergil wasn’t amused, but he was also keenly aware of the fact that Sirrus hadn’t exactly meant that in a humorous way. He’d clearly been using his cynicism and sarcasm as a coping device. “Continue.”

With a casual shrug, Sirrus turned his attention back to V and Morgan. “V, do you recall what you said about the attack that destroyed Lympha about three years ago?”

To the surprise of no one, they both nodded. Morgan looked as though she would become sick to her stomach at the mention of that place, but she did remember. There was no way that she would ever forget. V looked down at the floor for a moment in discomfort, considering the possibility of speaking. But when he finally did, it wasn’t about the town. “How did you hear about that, Sirrus? You were outside.”

Sirrus nodded in agreement, reaching for another glass of wine but finding that the bottle was a bit too close to being empty for his liking. “Your quite right. I was with Nico. But I have very good hearing, and I am not at all ashamed to admit that I did, in fact, eavesdrop on you. I can see why you’d find that strange, however. My apologies if I’ve upset you or caused you undue confusion.”

V seemed to consider this for a moment before nodding, brushing his concerns aside. He had done nothing to offend him. He would know if he’d done something to cause V any distress to the young summoner. That made sense. After all, Sirrus was not exactly a normal person, and he had several abilities that he knew very little about. “Think nothing of it. But please, what does this have to do with what happened in… that place?”

Leaning back again, Sirrus adjusted his shoulders. “It seems that before Belial disbanded his cult and destroyed just about every trace of it, he had tasked them to take care of something important. And that “something important” was in Lympha.” He turned to Morgan, his focus lingering on her for a moment as he attempted to find a tactful way to put into words what he wanted to say. “You made mention of an old story. Something about a prophecy?”

Morgan nodded. “Yea, it was something about how some settlers were run out of the area a few hundred years back on suspicion of being witches, and the leader of the coven’s son was killed before he could be used as a vessel of sorts of a ritual to bring back their fallen leader. She cursed the town or something like that. I think it was… “ she stopped, clearly unable to remember what all she was supposed to remember in that situation.

“And onto this land, I lay a binding of blood and bone. For never again shall the shadow depart. And the snow shall run red with the blood of the self-righteous until upon the altar of the Lord of the Disquieting the flesh of the so chosen repository is offered and the blood is spilled, melding their beings into one. And so he shall walk the damned soil again and hold dominion over the dominion of humanity as the storm holds dominion over the sky.” Sirrus looked displeased to have had to even speak those words. He didn’t like curses at the best of times, but full-on generational damnation? That was going several layers too far into the depths of insanity. “That is the first half of the actual prophecy. It was quite the thing to translate from Enochian, but I managed to do it on short notice once it was discovered in the Ludwig trove. Aluta deduced from what I shared with her about your story that it was relevant.”

Nodding in consideration, Dante seemed to linger on the words for a while. He clearly understood them, at least for the most part, but he was still at the end of his rope in regards to what that was related to in their exact circumstance. “Yea, that’s pretty metal and all, but what precisely does it have to do with V and Morgan?”

Realizing that he could stand to be a bit more transparent about it, Sirrus looked over at Morgan, displeased about what he needed to say. “The curse was created by a woman named Atropa Lundwick nearly exactly 500 years ago. She was the only survivor of a heinous attack by locals, and she was cursed herself at the time by those same townspeople after the deaths of her family. They apparently enchanted their crops to help them through the hard winter as an act of kindness, and they all nearly starved to death as a direct result of refusing to eat food that was “tainted by unnatural forces.” She was the matriarch of what you now know as the Ludwig family. That curse is the reason that members of the Ludwig family only ever have daughters. The locals incorrectly assumed that that would be a disadvantage to her. Fools.”

Flora and Magnolia both looked visibly horrified by the statement, but not at all angry. A sort of deep sorrow seemed to overtake them as they collectively realized the unintended butterfly effect that this still had on things in so many of their lives even to this day. It was a tragedy that had borne more tragedy, and no one had really emerged the winner in the situation. What a painful and shameful legacy for their ancestor to have left behind. “What does this have to do with V and Morgan, Sirrus.”

Taking note of the pain in Magnolia’s voice as she asked him that question, he sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, shaking his head in deep dissatisfaction. “For a cause to have any bearing, it has to have a source of anchoring, a natural or unnatural force to draw from. The Ludwin family at that time had dealing with several powerful demons as a result of their somewhat Umbran ancestry. One of the demons they guarded against was Belial, but once tragedy struck, Atropa sought the tutelage of the very devil she had sought to destroy, her grief gaining the upper hand as she mourned the death of her only son. She formed a pack with him, and that pact led to the enforcement of the curse. She used the power he lent her to see forward into a time that had not yet occurred for him, and the prophecy was borne of the outcome that favored him. She promised him everything if he succeeded, and ever since then, his influence strengthened by her curse has allowed him dominion for one season of the year over the town of Lympha to seek out his vessel. Her coven had never intended to sacrifice her son to him, but he had requested as much as he would have been a powerful asset to a devil prince who was physically incapable of crossing over into the human world.”

Morgan looked horrified. “So that’s what was wrong with all the people in the town? They were being subconsciously influenced by a curse and a demon all at once? That’s why the animals and anything else that ventured into the woods disappeared into the darkness? Because he was taking them to the underworld?”

Sirrus made a gesture to indicate that she was half right. “You’re mostly correct. Belial could not bring them into the underworld due to the fact that he could not open a gate, and there were no existing ones in the area. But he fed off of their fear, and he warped them into the horrible creatures that were sometimes seen around the town. Like in the story about the dog that you told V. At night his corruptive darkness changed those weak enough to be changed, and assimilated those who would not bend to his will, making the forest stronger. And it construed in a cycle unending until the day that his cult came to the city… looking for both of you.”

It was Nero’s turn to ask a question now, the young devil hunter clearly displeased by everything he had just learned. “But what did they want with V and Morgan as opposed to literally everyone else in that cursed hellhole of a town?”

The red-haired man gave him a sad smirk. “What did the Order of the Sword want with you in the grand scheme of their master plan?”

Nero seemed to think about the question for a moment before he visibly paled and felt the breath leave his lungs. Oh. Oh no. He didn’t mean that… He couldn’t mean that… 

“On their 20th birthday, every one of the young men in the town was compelled to enter the woods. This was a test on Belial’s part. He is the Lord of Disquieting from the prophecy. Apparently, he was testing the mental resolve of each of the potential vessels in the town. The one who could resist the incredibly powerful and increasingly strong pull of his influence would be the one he would pick. And that is how he located V. V was basically entirely resistant to all but the very strongest of his mental barrages, save for the one occasion with the full moon which was literally the anniversary of the curse being placed from what I can tell. And more importantly, why his cult descended upon the town that day. Their master specifically wanted V. And he wants him alive. But there was another half to that prophesy.”

Brenowin looked ill suddenly. He shared a concerned look with Sirrus and then at his sister, clearly realizing something that none of the rest of them did. But he couldn’t speak of it, and he had a feeling that Sirrus would do so for him anyway. “You don’t mean…”

Much to his displeasure, he nodded. “Unfortunately, I do. I can tell from the ill look on your face that you know of what I speak. The cult must have made mention to it, then?” He watched as Bren nodded and then looked over at his sister, a look of immense concern on his face. He then continued, wanting to get this off of his chest. “And upon the twin thrones of darkness shall sit the vessel of darkness and the eyes of prophecy, she who will be gifted future sight as I was and who shall make material the brood of the machinations of the lord of shadows, Insanity made physical. For only through the union of darkness and foresight can be brought true retribution to cleanse humanity of their petty mortality.”

Everyone in the room seemed to linger on those words for a few moments before slowly coming to the realization of what they implied. And each one of them looked varying degrees of physically ill as they all came to the same unanimously horrifying conclusion. And V especially was mentally kicking himself. Why had he not considered the fact that Belial’s cult could have been the same cult that had killed the people of Lympha a few years ago? Perhaps the devil prince’s dark influence had been what had made him feel compelled to stay in the first place. The demonic part of him could have been drawn to the aura that his influence provided… 

“So you’re saying that… Belial wants to use V as a vessel that he can, what, possess so that he can come to the human world and take everything over, and then he wants Morgan to… so they can… and she’d be… That’s…” Dante looked between his nephews and his brother, noting their stunned silence and the will to live exit V’s body with silent indignation. He’d actually prefer dying to a fate like that.

“Quite literally the worst thing I’ve ever heard in my entire life,” Nero said breathlessly, looking over at his brother and the horrified shivering young teen girl sitting next to him. He couldn’t tell which of those options was the worse fate. Being used as a meat puppet for darkness incarnate was bad, but the idea of being stuck with him to create descendants of his bloodline purely for the purpose of helping to subjugate the rest of the world was literally too vile for him to comprehend properly.

And with the will of a Devil Lord in the body of a descendant of the great dark knight Sparda, he could undo every safeguard and protective ward your father placed with enough time and the proper know-how. And he could easily gain access to both… after all, who would stand a chance against that kind of power…” Lucia looked mournful and horrified. She couldn’t imagine something so dark coming to pass. No one deserved that, but V? No one could deserved that fate less. And Morgan… 

… Our father’s spell stops the possibility of a demon as powerful as Belial crossing over into the human world, but possession of the movement of power and consciousness into another living being. Only his essence needs to pass over… and in that respect, his horrific and contrite plan is actually entirely possible. And I loathe that.”

“Over my dead body,” Magnolia said, genuinely angry. She didn’t even bother to hold back the tears that were forming in her eyes. “I will not allow the momentary hubris of my one forebearers to lead to the damnation of two children, and by proxy, the entirety of humanity, over the mistakes of a few people nearly a millennium ago. This dies with her, as it damn well should have back then.”

Sirrus nodded in agreement. “And that is why I am here today. To propose the idea of stopping that before it starts. We need to go on a little road trip. And we need to do it now. I need you to see the conduit. And I need you to see it now.”

(-~-)

And there it is, Belial’s horrible plan finally revealed! Let me know what you think in the comments! I had a blast writing this when I got back from grocery shopping today. You all take care. I’ll see you next week on Wedsnday! And for those of you who dropped in on my Tumblr account during DMC OC Week, thanks for the love and support! See you in the comment section, and stay safe out there! Enjoy the nightmare fuel! Bye Bye!

[fortysevenswrites]

SETHKATE and KASTLE and KIMBERLY/TOMMY

HAHA Emily, I had a feeling I’d get these from you (though pleasantly surprised at the inclusion of Tomberly!)

SethKate

Gives nose/forehead kisses - Seth, but Kate has been known to when she being patronizing, usually because Richie is right about something and Seth is not happy to have to acknowledge that

Gets jealous the most - Seth. 10000%. He knows how OUT OF HIS LEAGUE his tiny, vicious person is, and really does not like how she insists on being SO DAMN NICE AND GIVING THE COMPLETE WRONG IMPRESSION to anyone (any MAN) who comes into Jed’s.

Picks the other up from the bar when they’re too drunk to drive - Both. Usually Seth (especially when he gets caught up in his feelings), but then there are the nights where Kalinda convinces Kate to come out with the Jed’s staff and they all get full on shmammered.

Takes care of on sick days - Both. Seth gets really worried about Kate when she gets sick, like REALLY WORRIED, because of the whole...Amaru of it all, and is SUPER into taking care of her. But when Seth gets sick, he is a whiny, needy mess of a human person, and Kate basically has to cuddle him until he feels better (”has to” in HUGE quotes)

Drags the other person out into the water on beach day - Kate. Fuller. Full stop. Seth, for all that he wouldn’t shut up about El Rey, doesn’t actually like the beach all that much (Anakin Skywalker anti-sand vibes here), but he does let Kate drag him into the ocean whenever they go to the beach because she loves it. And also because she’s in a bikini and DUH.

Gives unprompted massages - Seth is the handsiest and cuddliest. Of course he would.

Drives/rides shotgun - Seth drives. Kate controls the music, and doesn’t always play music he can’t stand.

Brings the other lunch at work - Kate. Not that she slides into the homemaker role that her mother took with her family, but Kate knows that Seth gets distracted and forgets to eat, and when he remembers, he eats like shit, so she takes it upon herself that he has at least a meal or two a day that will help him maintain that six-pack for as long as possible.

Has the better parental relationship - Hahahahahahahahahahaha. Kate by default, even though....neither parental relationship is all that great? Jacob did lie to Kate, a lot. And Jennifer, well, she struggled with her own issues and that did put a strain on her relationship with Kate, especially since Kate didn’t KNOW what was going on behind the scenes.

Tries to start role-playing in bed - I actually don’t think either would. They get up to a LOT in bed, but Kate does not have it in her to role play, I don’t feel. And Seth goes along with what’s going to make Kate happy and not embarrassed, because an embarrassed Kate does not have sex.

Embarrassingly drunk dancer - Kate. She just gives no fucks, and once she starts drinking recreationally, she just likes to have fun. Seth thinks it’s fucking adorable.

Still cries watching Titanic - Seth. It’s a f i l m, and the man knows to appreciate a good movie. Kate just can’t understand why they couldn’t just share the door.

Firmly believes in couples costumes - Kate. Fuller. With backing from Richie. Seth hates it, but well, happy wife, happy life ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Breaks the expensive gift rule during Christmas - Seth. Gecko. Full stop. Kate never really saw a need for money growing up, what with her dad and that constant message of providing for your community, so she really doesn’t know what to do with the money she gets being part of Los Tres Geckos outside of some small splurges. Seth, on the other hand, sees things and doesn’t look at price tags because he loves her.

Makes the other eat breakfast - Both. Since they keep such weird hours while running an operation that is predominantly nocturnal, it’s really just whoever is up first and remembers to check that they need to eat.

Remembers anniversaries - Seth. The man forgets nothing, like, from the big things to the little things (it makes him more than a little petty, too, but hey, what can you do?). Kate remembers the big dates, but Seth seems to have an anniversary for every day of the week for the two of them, whether it’s the first time Kate successfully learned a trick of the trade from him, or the day he realized she was still alive, or any milestone time period after Matanzas, or when Kate learned how to bartend, or, of course, the day he and Richie kidnapped her and her family.

Brings up having kids - Seth. He doesn’t want to be the one to bring it up, but eventually, LONG into the future, Seth realizes he DOES want that with Kate, and it’s a very uncomfortable (for him) conversation because she’s still so much younger than he is and he doesn’t want to pressure her, but also he wants it all with her in a way he never eve thought he’d want with anyone.

Kastle and Tomberly under the cut!

Kastle

Gives nose/forehead kisses - Frank Castle, full stop. When he lets himself, he is v e r y affectionate. It comes to a surprise to Karen, but she gets used to it quick.

Gets jealous the most - Frank, because he feels guilty about the whole thing where he’s a criminal/vigilante and every man who breathes in Karen’s direction he feels could be her chance at a normal life. It takes a while for Karen to beat the stupid out of Frank in that regard, but does happen eventually.

Picks the other up from the bar when they’re too drunk to drive - Frank, every single time. Girls night with Sarah and Marci and Jones and Trish and Claire? Yeah. Frank plays DD more often than he ever imagined he would. Whenever he gets shitfaced off his ass, which is VERY rare, he usually bunks down wherever he is, which is always a controlled environment where he’s safe enough to let go.

Takes care of on sick days - Both. Frank is SUCH a family man, and can’t stand it when someone isn’t feeling well, and Karen is the QUEEN of overdoing it when she’s sick, so he has to make her rest. And the rare times where Frank is the one who’s sick? Karen has to force him to accept her help. That’s when she tends to comment under her breath about how exasperating he is, even though she knows he can hear her.

Drags the other person out into the water on beach day - Karen. They don’t often do normal things like, “Hey, it’s beach day!” Because of the well, vigilante of it all, but when they do, it’s definitely Karen who has to drag him out from under the umbrella. The bikini helps a LOT with her case.

Gives unprompted massages - Frank. He knows Karen gets VERY stressed (he doesn’t blame her, working with Murdock and all), and she spends way more time than he things could possibly be healthy hunched over her computer, so shoulder massages are the norm in the Kastle apartment.

Drives/rides shotgun - Frank does most, if not all of the driving, which, of course, isn’t much when you live in NYC. Unless he’s been hurt and Karen has to cart him back home from wherever he was where he got his ass kicked (which, also, is rare.

Brings the other lunch at work - Frank, because A, he loves taking care of Karen, but also a little bit because Matt HATES when Frank stops by the office, and it scares the CRAP out of Foggy, which is endlessly entertaining.

Has the better parental relationship - Well, neither Frank nor Karen’s parents are in the picture, but it would have to be Frank by default, seeing as Karen’s mom is dead and Karen’s dad is a jerk.

Tries to start role-playing in bed - Neither. Frank is pretty straight-forward in bed, and it never occurs to Karen that she’d want to pretend they’re anything but Frank and Karen.

Embarrassingly drunk dancer - Karen. She doesn’t let loose often, but on girls night? Endless entertainment.

Still cries watching Titanic - Karen gets teary because she gets frustrated. Titanic is just…not a movie that Frank’s a fan of, but he humors Karen whenever she chooses to hate-watch something.

Firmly believes in couples costumes - Not that they really partake on Halloween much, but Karen would be the one most likely to come up with a couples themed costume. Frank would probably find any and every excuse to be busy on Halloween so he can avoid it.

Breaks the expensive gift rule during Christmas - Neither really. Holidays are hard for Frank, and neither are very materialistic. They tend to just spend holidays with one another, or they go to the Lieberman’s, and most of their efforts center on getting nice gifts for the kids.

Makes the other eat breakfast - Frank. If Karen had it her way, she’s subsist on coffee and spite. Frank makes sure she gets enough caloric energy in her so she can instill fear in the unjust.

Remembers anniversaries - Both. Frank can’t forget any of his anniversaries and important dates with Maria and the kids, but also really can’t forget things like the day he met Karen at the hospital, the day at the hotel with Lewis, and of course, the day he pulled his head out of his ass and apologized for telling her to walk away. Karen also can’t forget the day she met Frank, when he used her as bait in the coffee shop, also the hotel, and when Frank totaled her car when she was being held hostage by Schoonover.

Brings up having kids - Frank, but only in the sense that he’s concerned that Karen doesn’t know what she’s getting into with him (yeah, right). Karen sets him straight that she really doesn’t want kids and also doesn’t want to think that she wants to replace Lisa and Frankie. They talk about it once and it never really comes up again.

Kimberly/Tommy

Gives nose/forehead kisses - Tommy. Because as much as Kimberly can hold her own in a fight, she is still is tiny and adorable girlfriend.

Gets jealous the most - Neither really (BECAUSE IN THIS UNIVERSE THERE WAS NO STUPID FUCKING LETTER). Yeah, long distance is hard, but they manage to keep things together pretty well while Kimberly competes internationally.

Picks the other up from the bar when they’re too drunk to drive - Tommy absolutely plays DD. When they’re old enough to drink, Kimberly absolutely enjoys letting loose and going to a party or two or…twelve.

Takes care of on sick days - Kimberly, because Tommy, being a leader and all, rarely lets anyone see him when he’s sick or struggling. He is very stubborn.

Drags the other person out into the water on beach day - Kimberly. On days where the bad guys choose not to attack when the Rangers are out at the beach (or, well, the lake in Angel Grove, California, Canada), it’s Kimberly who pulls Tommy into the water with her, but also Tommy who pulls Kim back out with him when he gets bored of her lying around working on her tan.

Gives unprompted massages - Both. They’re both not just Rangers, but they’re athletes too, and they know how important it is to avoid muscle strain as much as possible.

Drives/rides shotgun - When they’re not teleporting to and from the Command Center, it’s Tommy who does most of the driving, so Kimberly can finish doing her makeup or filling him in on the latest school gossip.

Brings the other lunch at work - Neither. They’re both very self-sufficient, but will trade off who picks up their smoothies from Ernie up at the juice bar.

Has the better parental relationship - Neither. Kimberly’s parents are suuuuuuper MIA (like, if they weren’t, they’d probably figure out pretty quick that she’s, you know, A FUCKING POWER RANGER), and Tommy’s parents are also pretty…MIA. Like, really, do ANY Rangers have parents other than…Billy? It’s not that Zordon was looking for teenagers with attitude. It was attitude AND absentee parents.

Tries to start role-playing in bed - They are way too damn vanilla to even consider role play.

Embarrassingly drunk dancer - Tommy. Oliver. For all that he’s very good at fighting, it does NOT transfer to da club.

Still cries watching Titanic - Kimberly. She just gets emotional about how Jack sacrificed himself so Rose could live. Tommy wishes Kimberly would watch more movies with explosions. (And also wonders why the hell they couldn’t have just shared the door)

Firmly believes in couples costumes - Technically both, because Tommy is INTO Halloween and is happy to let Kimberly pick the costumes for them,

Breaks the expensive gift rule during Christmas - I mean, they’re in high school and fighting a war, so I don’t think they really think much about presents (plus, they get pretty sick gets in terms of tech from Zordon), but as adults, definitely Tommy doting on Kim, who gets annoyed that he’s using his teacher salary on extravagant gifts (she’s the real moneymaker in the family as a world-famous gymnast and coach)

Makes the other eat breakfast - When they do live together, Kimberly does the meal making because she finds cooking therapeutic.

Remembers anniversaries - Both, but Tommy remembers some of the more obscure anniversaries, like the day Kim fainted when she saw him in the new White Ranger uniform.

Brings up having kids - Kimberly. She tells Tommy that she’s planning on retiring from competing and going to coaching full-time, and when Tommy asks why, Kimberly tells him that it’s really hard to do a side aerial off the balance beam while pregnant, since balance is…hard when there’s a bun in the oven.

[teatimeweirdo]

It was a cold night.

The gang was quite worried about Buccellati. He hasn't come out of his room all day. Abbacchio, who was cooking dinner for the boys, was pacing around the room for who knows how long and he felt fairly uneasy. For once, Narancia and Fugo weren't fighting, instead they were worried sick as well. Mista, who usally would complain about the missing food around, this time of the day, was unusually quiet. Their new member, Giorno, was silent all day since the person he would usally talk to was unavailable.

Even Trish was unusally tense, she knew something was up. Their Capo never really opened up to anyone, so no one actually knew what was going on.

Abbacchio called them to get dinner, today pasta was served, it didn't taste as good as the food Buccellati would usally serve them, but it was edible. While the kids were grabbing dinner, Abbacchio prepared a plate for Buccellati.

"Doesn't matter if you don't finish everything. I'll be upstairs."

"Can you please find out what's up with Buccellati?" Trish asked.

"Yeah, we're worried about him!" Narancia exclaimed.

Abbacchio just hummed in response and went upstairs, but Giorno saw the worry in his eyes.

Buccellati has been acting weird since he had gotten a phone call this morning. They all were concerned, since Buccellati has gotten a lot of calls but never acted like this after he got them.

Going up the stairs in this usally warm house was quite eerie tonight. When Abbacchio arrived at Buccellati's door he started hearing soft whimpers. It made Abbacchio's stomach turn. Imagining the normally calm and collected capo crying in his room like that made his heart hurt.

He started knocking on the door. "...Can I come in? I have dinner for you." Abbacchio asked.

Whiping his tears away and trying to collecting himself, Buccellati awnserd the door.

"Oh, it's you."

Buccellati disliked the thought of his gang seeing him like this, crying his heart out and being a total mess, his body shaking to its core and his room unorganized, but he knew he could trust Abbacchio, he knew Abbacchio wouldn't tell anyone about this, Buccellati always acted like a parental figure to everyone and he didn't want to break this perception of him, he didn't want them to think he was weak.

Abbacchio entered the room and placed the plate on Buccellati's desk.

"Don't worry, no one else is here, it's just me. I'm the only one listening." Abbacchio said softly.

Buccellati closed the door and went to his desk. "...thank you..." Buccellati said quietly, he almost sounded like he was about to cry again.

"Do you wanna talk about it? Of course only if you want to talk." As soon as those words slipped past Abbacchio's lips, Buccellati felt like crying again, no one except his father had ever asked him if he wanted to talk about his problems.

He wanted to say something, but all the words got stuck in Buccellati's throat, instead he just nodded. He went to his bed and Abbacchio followed him as they sat down. In the end, he managed to choke out a "My mom called."

Why would his mom calling be so ba- oh.

That's when Buccellati started to break down again. Abbacchio just sat there not knowing what to do, he was never good at comforting people, but he tried his best. Rubbing the other's back gently, he grabbed one of the tissues he took up in the room with him.

"...I don't know much about that whole situation, but...I'm here for you, Bruno. It's probably not much, but I'm here."

"My mom called, and I just....." He trailed off,  not knowing what to say.

"Take your time."

Abbacchio knew that Buccellati was a very family oriented man, he always saw how sad he was whenever two of his gang members were fighting, so Abbacchio could only imagine how upsetting it was for Buccellati to fight with his own mother.

"My mom called, she- she called me for the first time in 7 years, " Buccellati choked out, "she called and told me that she has a new fiance and needs money for the wedding," Abbacchio could tell that Buccellati became hysterical. "I know it's childish, but I never got over the fact that my parents divorced, and when my dad died, it just hurt even more," He let out a whimper after that, before finally finishing the sentence, "It's been so hard, and I- I don't know w-what to do-"

"Bruno-"

"I just-"

"Bruno, you have to calm your breathing,"

Abbacchio kissed Buccellati's temple in an attempt to calm him down.

".... Leone, could you please get something for me?" Buccellati whiped his tears away with is sleeves. "It's in the lowest drawer of my desk."

Abbacchio got up and went to get the thing Buccellati asked him to get without questions. What he found was something he never expected. Three duck stuffies, laying neatly next to eachother in the lowest drawer of his desk.

"My dad got me them when I was still a baby,"  Buccellati started, "he actually hoped that one day I will grow up to appreciate the water and the creatures around it as much as he did." The thought of a small Buccellati playing with little stuffies made Abbacchio's heart swell.

His lips curled into a little smile, "They're cute." Buccellati hummed in response.

"My mom actually threatened to burn them once, when she was mad at my dad. I have never been that panicked before." Buccellati chuckled.

"What a bitch." Abbacchio replied.

"Thank you for cheering me up, Leone."

Abbacchio went back to the bed with the duck stuffies and layed down besides Buccellati.

"You're really adorable Bruno, do you know that?"

Buccellati just blushes and lays down besides Abbacchio.

"How can I not know it when you tell me every day."

Now it was Abbacchio's turn to blush. He draped an arm over Buccellati and smiled to himself. What did he do to deserve such a good man?

It didn't take long for Buccellati to fall asleep, after all he has been crying all day. Abbacchio made sure that Buccellati really was asleep before getting up. He went to Buccellati's desk to pick up the long forgotten food, which has now turned cold, and went downstairs to put it away.

As soon as Abbacchio arrived downstairs he was bombarded with questions by Narancia and Trish. He just demissed them for now and went back upstairs.

Once he arrived at Buccellati's room, he was greeted with the most adorable sight he has ever seen. It was Buccellati sleeping and cuddling with his duck stuffies with a child-like innocence Abbacchio has never seen before. His heart melted at the view.

It took Abbacchio a while to tear his eyes away from this beautiful sight, when he was finally able to, he went to Buccellati's bathroom and drew him a bubble bath with the cinnamon soap, which was his favorite scent on Buccellati.

When he was done with preparing the bath, he went to wake Buccellati up. Abbacchio leaned in for a kiss on Buccellati's lips, who's eyes started to flutter open.

"Morning, sleeping beauty. I drew you a bath," Abbacchio says softly.

"You're so cheesy, do you know that?" Buccellati joked.

There it was, that smile, that Abbacchio adored, his heart skipped a beat whenever he saw that smile.

"You should smile more often like this, you know?" Abbacchio smiled. This made Buccellati smile even wider.

"Hop on!" Abbacchio laughed.

"You sure?" Buccellati asked, Abbacchio only nodded, which was the signal for the raven-haired man to hop on the goth's back.

Abbacchio carried Buccellati into the bathroom and locked the door. The ex-cop sat his lover down on a stool since he was still quite sleepy.

"Do you need help with that?" Abbacchio asked suggestively while raising an eyebrow.

"What? Help with what?" Buccellati asked still fairly sleepy. This made Abbacchio smile, he went up to his beloved boyfriend and gave him a sweet kiss on the forehead and left a lipstick stain.

"Don't worry, I'll help you." Abbacchio said while coming closer to Buccellati. This was when the sweet man realized what his lover was saying.

"Yo-You don't have to." Buccellati blushed.

"Too late." The white-haired man said with a teasing smile. He went up to the raven-haired man and tucked on his shirt.

After Buccellati was finally undressed, he went into the bathtub.

"Hey, that's my favorite scent!" the capo exclaimed happily.

"It's not my favorite on me, but I like how it smells on you. It always...smells warm." Abbacchio said while removing his make-up.

"Are you gonna join, amore?" Buccellati asked.

"Sure, " the ex-cop said, already being naked, only having to put up his hair.

Abbacchio got into the bathtub, the warm water feeling nice on his skin. The raven-haired man on the other side of the tub just smiled sweetly.

"Come here." the goth said sleepily, the warm relaxing water made him tired and he just wanted to cuddle Buccellati.

The dark-haired man went over just to cuddle the ex-cop, it was warm and comforting. Abbacchio just wanted to fall asleep in Buccellati's embrace.

After the bath they went to bed, Buccellati laying on Abbacchio's chest, the goth thinking it's funny how usally the roles are reversed, but tonight it was different, the beloved capo just needed some reassurance.

The two of them stayed in this position until they heard a knock on the door.

"Come in." The mother-like man said, which resulted in a grumble from Abbacchio

It was Narancia, who held a small frog stuffie and a teddy bear in his hands.

"I'm sorry to bother you but I couldn't sleep. I was worried about you, Buccellati." The boy said sadly, "Can I sleep in your bed tonight?"

Abbacchio seemed displeased but didn't say anything, he knew that his darling needed sometime with his found family.

"Sure, just please be quiet, we all need some sleep tonight, it's been a rough day." Buccellati said as he held his arms open for Narancia.

The three of them layed in bed and a cuddled, they looked like an actual family.

Buccellati was happy, happy that he found himself a new happy family.

[thehellcatcroons]

An Ordinary Woman

Summary: Left alone for the weekend while Dante takes a job out of town, Trish gets a call from Lady inviting her over for dinner. This short story explores Trish’s thoughts and feelings as she wrestles with her identity and the idea of friendship. 

The idea for this kind of loosely came from an episode of Inuyasha, where Kikyo explains that without the shikon jewel, she’d be free to be an ordinary woman, and that’s all she ever wanted. I wanted to apply the idea of just wanting to be, or even just feel, like an ordinary woman to Trish, who I think probably questions her identity a lot. 

Characters: Trish, Lady- Mentions of Dante

**Brief mentions of drinking wine**

Also up on Ao3 (Tumblr mucked up some of my formatting.)

   Glittering reflections of flickering lights danced in the quickly puddling streets of the city as a tall, flaxen haired woman sauntered down them; the usual song of the city night masked by the heavy and steady beating of the rain. Trish had found herself growing a fondness for it, and tonight it proved to be welcome company on her walk to Lady's apartment. It was summer now, a season that could have contended with Hell's own fires, but the showers themselves were cool as ice as they fell from the night sky and caressed her overheated skin. She took a deep breath, enjoying the scent of the humidity that hung heavily in the air.

  Dante had gone out of town on a job, and the phone hadn't rung in days; Trish had grown tired of sitting around the shop by herself waiting for work. She had managed to find some little ways to keep herself busy here and there. She'd tidied the office and cleaned the spoiled food from the fridge, she'd even hung a few devil arms on the walls to get them off of the floor, since everyone at the office seemed to have been tripping over them. But she'd finished cleaning up a day ago, and today she'd realized that the television in Dante's office didn't operate the way he said it was supposed to. Supposedly it showed moving pictures, but all she had gotten from it was static; no matter how many buttons she clicked or positions she twisted the antenna into. Come to think of it, she'd never even seen Dante use it before, how could she be sure it even worked at all? Thankfully, Lady had called to check in on her just as she was tempted to zap the damned thing with her lighting.

  It was the first time Dante had left her alone at the shop for more than a day. It had only been a year since they'd returned from Mallet Island, and there was still a lot about the human world that puzzled Trish. Though, she was never shy about the things that she didn't understand, she knew that if she was going to be living in this world, she'd need to learn a great many things about it. But much to her disappointment, Dante seemed clueless about a lot and Trish found herself talking to Lady more and more as of late. She'd been grateful to hear her voice on the other end of the line after her few days of solitude.

  “Leave it to Dante to take the only paying job around! Why don't you close on up and come over here? I could use the company. I'd offer to pick you up, but I just started cooking. Guess I didn't really think about that one...” Trish remembered hearing her hearty laugh through the receiver. “Then again, I guess you'd get wet either way since all I have is the bike!”

  “Oh, a little rain won't bother me! Besides, I think I'm starting to like it.” She'd said before eagerly hanging up and shutting up shop for the night; the rain wasn't the only thing she'd been growing a fondness for.

  She and Lady had very much gotten off on the wrong foot when they first met. In fact, they'd tried to kill one another. When they later found out that the incident could have been avoided if Dante had just introduced them, they'd both laughed if off, and laughed at Dante. In fact, since the incident (and much to Dante's dismay,) the two of them had seemed to bond a great deal over poking fun at him.

  Sirens wailed in the distance, cutting through the drumming of the rain and interrupting Trish's thoughts. The strange sounds of this world were another thing that Trish had found herself slowly growing used to. The demon world had been a strangely quiet place, while the human world was just the opposite; the streets were always alive with the sounds of horns and hollers. She'd remembered Lady telling her that it wasn't like this everywhere, that there were some places in the human world that were quiet and still.    

 How dull they must be. She thought, smiling at the buzzing neon lights of the bars and shops that lined the streets.

  This world was a fascinating place. There was so much to see, so much to do, so much to know. Trish had already learned a great deal of things in just her short year here. But despite all of the wonders of the world that she was in now, what she was learning the most about was herself; who she was, and who she wanted to be. She'd been born of malice, hatred even, created by a monster for some sick revenge.

  “But that's not who you are.” Dante had told her when they'd returned from the island. “You saved me, and instead of returning to the demon world, you chose to come back here with me. That's gotta count for something, right?”

  Maybe. She thought, recalling the memory. But then, what does that make me?

  She knew that she wasn't evil, she just couldn't muster the hatred for it. She was more concerned with who she was, and constantly grappled with her ideas about her identity. After all, nothing was truly hers, everything she had belonged to someone else at one point or another. Her face and her beauty both belonged to a woman long dead. Her guns, Luce and Ombre, had been given to her by Dante. Her strength, her powers, all given to her by her creator, nothing earned. Even her life had belonged to someone else at one point, someone who had cast her aside without a second thought the moment she had failed him. She supposed her name was hers, she'd chosen it after all. But was that it? Was that all she had in this world, after all she'd been through?

  The glint of the small silver speaker box that hung outside of Lady's building caught Trish's eye, it was sweet beacon of light to her, casting aside her doubts and replacing them with a strange sense of hope. Her pace seemed to quicken as she approached it, one finger already extended and ready to hit the little button next to Lady's apartment number. A short moment after, she heard the static of the other line picking up through the speaker box.

  “Oh! Jeez, you sure walk fast!” She heard Lady's cheery voice on the other end. “I'll buzz you up!” The line clicked off and Trish heard the obnoxious buzz of the main doors being unlocked. Perhaps there were some noises in this world that she didn't care for after all.

  The inside of the building was an entire world brighter than outside, though Trish credited most of it to the gross overuse of the color white. The paint on the walls was almost as glossy as the tiled floors that made up the lobby. The florescent lighting was almost blinding, and Trish had to let her eyes adjust for a moment before heading to the elevator.

“Good grief.” She muttered to herself as the cabin creaked and groaned its way down to her. “Why are human machines so noisy?”

  As the doors opened, a small hoard of adolescent girls pushed their way out, chattering excitedly about junk food, movies, and something called a 'sleepover.'

   “God Jenna, you're so lucky your mom leaves you all of this money when she goes away, we can get whatever we want from the corner store!” Trish heard one of them say.

   “It's only because I hate her new boyfriend, she's just doing it so I'm not a bitch to her when she comes home.” Their giggles were cut off as the elevator doors finally slid shut behind Trish.

  It seemed to Trish that a decent amount of human rituals involved food. Not only did they need it to nourish themselves, but they used it as a way to bond with one another as well. Though she didn't exactly need human food to sustain herself, she did enjoy it from time to time when it wasn't pizza for the fifth night in a row.

  The cabin jerked slightly as it reached its destination, the doors struggling to part ways. The third floor hallway was a welcome site, its interior much duller than the florescence of the first. Soft gray carpet padded the floors, while the walls were bound in a calm blue wallpaper. Trish didn't have to walk far before she found herself outside of Lady's door.

  She hesitated for a moment before she knocked, almost nervous to be spending time with Lady by herself. After the events of their first encounter had blown over, Lady had always seemed kind towards her, but Trish could always tell that there was something else there. There was an underlying uneasiness that kept Lady tense and on edge around Trish, and even Dante sometimes. Though, it did seem like Lady tried to hide those feelings from them both. Trish was honestly surprised that she had even invited her over, but she was thankful all the same.

   “Hey- woah, ok....how are you not soaked?” Lady asked when she answered the door. Trish shrugged as she walked in, her heels clicking against the floors once more as the terrain changed to hardwood.

   “I can use my powers for more than just fighting.” She replied, innocently.

   “Well, I suppose having demonic powers would come in handy for all sorts of things.” Lady said as she closed the door behind them and shuffled to the kitchen that was just to the left of it.

  She wasn't dressed in the normal attire that Trish was used to seeing her in. Instead, she was sporting soft black shorts with white polka dots, and a baggy gray tee shirt that hung off of her shoulders. Trish looked down to see that she was barefoot, and had a multitude of rings wrapped around her toes.

   “I hope you don't mind spaghetti, it's just about done.” Lady said, picking up a wooden spoon and stirring the contents of a large pot.

   “What's that?” Trish asked.

   “You've never had- oh gosh!” She said, realization suddenly dawning on her. “You probably don't even need to eat, do you? I didn't even think about it.” She almost sounded disappointed.

   “Well no, but, I like it. Trying new things has been....an interesting journey for me.” She smiled at Lady as she took a seat on one of the tall steel bar stools that sat next to the counter.

   “I'm sure you're really expanding your pallet living with The Prince of Pizza.” She joked as she plopped two glasses onto the counter in front of Trish and filled them with wine. Trish noted that there was something different in the way that Lady was acting, she seemed far more relaxed than she normally was.

   “It was kind of you to think of me.” Trish chuckled at Lady's jab at Dante as she grabbed one of the glasses and brought it to her lips.

   “I figured you could use a friendly face, being all alone in that office can't be much fun.”

   “No, but I did manage to get some cleaning done without Dante there.” She sighed. “He never wants anyone to touch anything.”

   “Always says he'll get to it, but never does?” Lady quipped as she sauntered back to the stove. “Been there, done that. I offered to help clean up about a thousand times when we first met. I guess all men are destined to be stubborn, demon or not.”

   Trish laughed as Lady spooned the food she'd made out onto some plates for them.

   “In any case, I'm glad you're here to give me some company. And that you're willing to humor me and eat my cooking.” She made her way back over to the counter and placed the plates down between them.

   “Well, what do you think?” Lady asked as she watched Trish take a bite. “This isn't the first thing you've had besides pizza, is it?”

   Trish covered her mouth as she stifled a laugh, still chewing.

   “I've tried other foods!” She managed to quip back once she finally swallowed. “I do like this though, what's it called again?”

   “Spaghetti.” Lady laughed. “And I'm glad.”

   “I heard some girls talking about something called a sleepover when I was getting on the elevator. What is that?” Trish asked suddenly after they'd spent a long and comfortable silence enjoying their food.

   “A sleepover?” Lady asked, shifting in her seat uncomfortably. “I've never really been to one myself. But, it's when kids, er- friends, get together and spend the night at each other's houses. They usually stay up all night doing stuff like watching movies, painting nails, telling scary stories, eating junk food.”

   “How come you've never been to one?”

   Lady looked down into her glass of wine, as if the answer was at the bottom.

  “Well...” She began, she looked up at Trish nervously. “My parents were both a bit overly protective when I was really young, so I was never allowed to stay over anyone's house. I think my mom knew my father was....off, so she never let me have any friends over our house. I ran away from home after he killed her, dropped out of school, stopped having friends.” Her voice was suddenly a whisper. She sighed as she took a long sip from her glass.

   “I'm so sorry....” Trish replied. She'd almost forgotten, Lady may be human, but that didn't mean she was normal by any means.

   “It's alright.” Lady replied. “I guess some human experiences are unfamiliar to me too, the ones I was robbed of anyway.” She half laughed.

  Trish looked down at her plate as she took another bite, thankful for something to keep her mouth occupied. She hadn't meant to upset Lady, and she'd forgotten how easy it was to stir up bad memories with just a few small words. She found herself feeling strangely disappointed. Lady had only just started relaxing around her, had she ruined that already? Did she break a trust that they were only just starting to build?

   “Hey, you know what?” Lady chirped suddenly. “We can have one tonight!”

   “Have what?”

   “A sleep over. I've never been to one, you've never been to one. Let's have one here, I have a bunch of movies we can watch, and I'm sure I can dig up some pajamas that'll fit you. Well, maybe, you're awfully tall.” She laughed.

   Trish smiled, eager to feel a little bit more normal. “You're sure you're ok with me staying here?”

   Lady hesitated before answering. “Why not? It'll be fun! We're already eating and drinking anyway, that's about half of the activities right there.”

  Trish was taken back, Lady was clearly wary of demons, yet it seemed like she was going out of her way to extend kindness towards her. Why? What had she done to deserve it? She hadn't saved her life like she'd saved Dante's. Still, Trish couldn't help but smile at the gesture.

  It wasn't long before the two women found themselves sitting on Lady's couch, laughing at an old movie and working their way through their second bottle of wine. With each passing sip the world around Trish was becoming more and more intriguing. Lady's laugh was a sweet symphony in her ears, harmonizing perfectly with the rain that was battering hard against the many windows in the apartment. The continuous waves of laughter that passed over her were giving her a feeling that she found herself wanting to chase.

  Was this why humans kept company with each other so often? This feeling? Being at the shop with Dante wasn't like this at all. They mostly worked, and when they weren't working, he was mostly drinking and moping. She didn't like to be around him much when he got heavily depressed, she didn't like the look in his eyes when he looked at her, like he was being tortured. It was hard not to feel out of place when someone was constantly looking at you as if you were a ghost, haunted by your presence. Though, it wasn't like that all of the time, and Trish had to admit that he seemed to getting a bit better about it as of late. Still, it was nice to be around someone who didn't make her feel that bitter uneasiness at all.

  As the screen on the television went black, Lady pushed herself off of the couch.

   “Well, what did you think of your first movie?” She asked eagerly, pulling the tape from the machine that rested beneath the television.

   Trish nodded through her fit of giggles. “That was funny.”

   “Another one then?”

   “Another one!” She replied, zealously pouring herself another glass wine.

  As the opening credits began to make their way across the screen, Trish found herself feeling oddly comfortable, like she was no longer out of place. It was as if she wasn't sitting in an apartment that belonged to someone she'd tried to kill half a year ago. No, instead she was starting to feel like she was sitting in an apartment that belonged to a friend. It was almost a strange thought to have, half a year ago they'd been ready to fill one another with bullets. Tonight, they sat together laughing over wine.

   “Can I ask you something?” She suddenly asked before she could even think about the words she was saying.

   “Sure.” Lady sounded almost curious about the question.

   “Why did you ask me to come over here?” Trish asked, fixing her eyes to the remaining liquid in her glass, swirling it around with anticipation.

   “What do you mean?”

   “Well, you seem very wary of demons, and I sense an uneasiness from you when I'm around. I just wasn't sure what made you want to invite a demon into your apartment.”

   Lady shifted in her seat, looking up from the television and over to Trish. A nervous expression crept across her face.

   “To tell you the truth, if I'd met you ten years ago, I probably wouldn't be so kind. Demons and I have an unsavory history, my father was obsessed with them, and that destroyed my life. I didn't even think that I'd end up working with Dante after we met to be honest. I didn't really trust him for a long time, but giving him a chance showed me that all demons aren't the same. There are some out there who fight against their own kind, and I'm starting to believe that it might be worth it to give them a chance.” Lady took a sip from her glass before continuing. “You've kind of helped reinforce that idea. You're a full blooded demon, and you choose to stay here and help humans.”

   Trish almost didn't believe what she was hearing. “Me?”

   “Well, yeah. Dante told me you were created just to kill him, and now you're here helping him hunt your own kind. I think that's pretty amazing.” She laughed. “Come to think of it, when I invited you over I almost forgot you were a demon. I was kind of just thinking about how nice it'd be to spend time with another woman. You know, have some quality gal time? I haven't had too many friends outside of Dante, this life doesn't really allow for it.” Lady was talking a bit faster than she normally did, a side effect of the wine.

   She thinks of me as just another woman, she thinks of me as her friend. Trish thought to herself, utterly stunned into silence.

  The life of a devil hunter was a lonely one, Trish had noted that even Dante didn't have many friends. He seemed to go out of his way to live a solitary life, admitting to her once that he'd left behind someone he loved for this life. He was even cold to Lady from time to time, keeping her just at arms length, despite the fact that they had a lot in common with one another. Trish had always thought that he didn't act that way with her because she reminded him if his mother, but now she was thinking that perhaps it was because she wasn't human. He didn't have to worry about her getting hurt the way he would with a human companion. Perhaps that's why hunters flocked to one another so much, they'd all chosen this life for one reason or another, and perhaps even a solitary lifestyle left humans craving some form of connection.

   “Can I ask you a question?” She heard Lady ask before she even had the chance to respond.

   “Well, I think it's only fair since I just asked one of my own.”

   “Have you ever painted your nails before?”

   “What?” The question seemed so off topic and out of place to Trish, but perhaps this was another side effect of the wine.

   “Your nails!” Lady help up her hand so that Trish could see her finger nails. They were painted a sparkly black, chipped here and there from working and wear. “It's something people do at sleepovers. I was going to repaint mine, I could do yours if you want. I have a red that'll really match that lipstick you always wear.”

   She laughed. “Sure!”

  Lady's eyes lit up with excitement, making Trish smile even wider. She seemed so excited to do something so small, so ordinary; but her enthusiasm warmed Trish in a way that she found hard to find words for in the moment. She watched as Lady bounded to her room and back, retuning with a few small bottles and a roll of paper towels.

   “Ok!” The brunette said spiritedly as she plopped back down onto the couch and crossed her legs beneath her. She began to shake one of the bottles vigorously. “Give me your hand.” She said as she extended her own towards Trish.

  Trish turned to face her and held out a hand, surprised at how soft Lady's were as she gingerly held her wrist with one hand, and began to paint with the other. They spent so much of their time handling guns and various other weapons, how on Earth were her hands so soft? Was it magic?

   “Your hands are so soft.” She found herself blurting out, an almost childlike wonder peaking through in the tone of her voice.

   Lady laughed. “If there's one thing I learned in this life, it's to find one little luxury worth spending a little extra on. Something that makes you feel like you're still human, some semblance of normalcy. For me, it's occasional manicures and very expensive lotion. It helps remind me that I'm more than just a demon hunter, that I'm still....a lady.” She giggled at the last part.

   “You know, I kind of feel like that when I put on make up.” Trish admitted. “I like the way it feels.”

   Lady regarded Trish with a surprised smile as she released her hand. Trish brought it closer to her face and wiggled her fingers, watching the shiny red polish glint in the light.

   “It's still wet, so don't touch them, or anything else for a few minutes.” She reached for Trish's other hand and began to paint the nails on it.

   Trish smiled as she moved her fingers around, admiring the way they looked now that they were painted.

   “Wow, this really is pretty, and it does match my lipstick.”

   “Toldja.” Lady quipped, winking. “You know, I don't use this color much if you wanna borrow it. Unlike Dante I trust that you'll actually give my stuff back.”

  The pair erupted into a fit of giggles, the movie they had put on was slowly becoming white noise in the background, their camaraderie almost drowning it out completely.

   “How come you two don't get along?” Trish asked when their laughter had subsided.

   Lady looked like she was caught off guard. “It's not that we don't get along. We don't dislike one another. It's just that...” She trailed off, looking down at the couch as she thought. “I met him on the second worst night of my life, the night I killed my father. My father was an evil man....if you can even call him that. In the end he was something else completely. He had to die, if not for what he did to my mother, for what he was going to do to others. But, that doesn't mean it still doesn't haunt me. I had to do it. I had to take his life, with my own hands. It's hard not to be reminded of that when I look at Dante. We have a lot in common, way more than I'd like to admit, but no matter how much time passes I'm still reminded of that night when I'm around him. Maybe that's why he's cold to me at times, he lost Vergil that night. Maybe he can't help but to remember that when he looks at me too.”

   “That's terrible.” Trish whispered, she was slowly beginning to realize that painful memories could be dredged up with just a simple question.

   “Oh, it's ok. We get along just fine when we need to, and I still consider him a friend. But I suppose we'll never be that close, and that's ok.” She smiled up at Trish. “You know what's kind of funny?”

   “Hmm?”

   “Despite the fact that we're both demon hunters, and that we tried to kill each other when we first met, tonight is the most normal I've felt in a long time. It's nice to spend time with someone who doesn't bring up bad memories for me, doing normal things that everyday people do.” She mused.

   Trish returned the smile, beaming from ear to ear. “I feel the same way.”

  And she did, realizing in that moment that she had finally earned something for herself, Lady's trust, her friendship. She'd done it without having to save her life, or double cross her creator. She'd earned Lady's trust simply by following her own path and choosing to fight against evil. By listening to her rant about Dante, by joking around with her when she'd needed it. It wasn't one big moment that brought them together, like with her and Dante. It had been all the small moments, all the gestures that Trish had thought nothing of at the time that made their friendship blossom.

  She could feel a deep, yet unfamiliar warmth spreading within her, her smile becoming unyielding in the face of her new realizations. She had a friend, a friend whose trust she'd earned all on her own. For the very first time, Trish felt just like an ordinary woman, and she had to admit, it felt like a breath of fresh air.

[return-of-a-space-cowboy]

Provide more food for the seagull. For the soulmate AU, number 16 with doppio, but ah could you centre the time frame around the doppio vs risotto fight, you know I’m a slut for pain and I want it all.

Alright here's the food, enjoy you masochistic seagull!

Whiplash

(yandere Doppio X female reader)

You always seemed to get unexplainable injuries, even more then most. These kinds of injuries could range from simple bruises to deep severe cuts with no reason as to why. It hadn't a big problem until maybe mid middle to early highschool when this became more common.

Of course most would say you weren't paying attention but your grandmother believed otherwise. You remember one cold winter's day when she had you over. She spoilt you with toys and warm food; the memories alone were enough to drift you away and transfer you into the warm place you once knew.

You remember just before she tucked you into bed she told you a story, about an Australian soldier in Gallipoli and a woman in Germany during world war one. The two had never met however every wound the male received she felt and every scar they both shared, even thou they were so far away from each other.

One faithfully the two met each other by chance and they knew that it was true love at first sight, they were soulmates. They lived in Germany and had two kids. They were a happy family living despite living among the rubble that Germany had become for several years until world war Two. During the Nazi raids they had managed to get their children out of the country in time but not themselves... They were sent to two different concentration camps. On the night in which the Australian man had be executed the woman was found dead, foaming from the mouth.

She admitted that the story was a bit graphic for a child like you but that was the only example that she could give for your possible circumstances.

"It is a very rare chance that these can happen, not everyone has a soulmate and even if you do it doesn't mean that you'll ever meet each other and there are many different ways that soul mates can be connected. Some people have been color blind for all their life only to then be able to see it when they meet their soulmates, others have matching or incomplete markings, others senses are connected but they say that being able to feel each other's pain is the deepest form of connection" she explained

"Those bruises and scrapes must be from your soulmate" She said.

At times you were sceptical but there wasn't any other explanation. Until your Capo Bucciallati had encountered the boss.

You felt something tug at your heart as you had approached the veincian church, your breath was shallow and laboured but you were drawn so badly towards it.

"Bucciallati, I think I should take Trish in" you said through harsh breaths.

"No (y/n), I know you want to comfort her but I should bring her since I'm the Capo. Besides you need to rest, you look like your about to pass out" he argued before stepping of the boat.

Everyone thought you were coming down with a fever or something but you knew this wasn't a fever, you knew that it was something beyond you. After a while you froze as an image of Bruno being blown through the torso flashed into your mind. You screamed in the top of your lungs as you grabbed Fugo and cried out as tears flowed down your eyes.

"Bruno's in danger! Please we have to do something! He's going to die!" You screamed as you shook him.

"(Y/n) your just hallucinating, calm down" Fugo explained as he grabbed you.

"As if, Bruno's just bringing Trish to the boss, we kicked those assassin's asses so I don't think there is anyone else that's coming after us. Besides even if there was another enemy stand I think Bruno is capable enough to sort em out" Narancia said Before Giorno looked up from the laptop and placed one foot on the dock before Abbaccio tried to stop him and you passed out.

When you woke up Bruno was standing in front of the group. You couldn't quite understand most of what he said due to the horrible ringing in your ear. He mentioned how he was no longer apart of Passioné and that he was going to persue the boss after attempting to murder his own daughter.

Like most of the others you hopped back on the boat. Leaving Fugo and Narancia to their lives.

"Oi Bruno, (Y/n) was acting really strange earlier... She saying that you were in danger and that you were going to die, even now she still looks as sick as a dog" Mista stated as he pointed to you. Bruno put his hand on his chin, obviously thinking about something.

"I don't think she was sick at all, I've heard that soulmates are naturally drawn to each other by fate... What (Y/n) could have been experiencing may have been her body reacting to her soulmates presence" he explained. Your heart skipped a beat as he said that, you had a really bad feeling about what he was implying.

"But the only other person it the building was the boss, wouldn't that mean-" you were about to say before he cut you off.

"Yes I'm afraid so, you must be the bosses soulmate..." He gave a light sigh.

"Fate is a cruel woman to match me with a man willing to kill his own daughter... But I will not fall for such a twisted man, I will still work along side you..." You said.

"I always felt a certain way towards Trish that I couldn't understand... She may not be my daughter but I will protect her like one, I'd rather die a cold and lonely death then be with such a man" you said before everyone's attention shifted to the water where Narancia was swimming, desperately trying to catch up with you.

✂️✂️✂️

The trip to Sardinia had been a rather bumpy one, if bumpy meant having to steal an aeroplane only to crash it in the middle of the ocean that is. To you it was a relief to be on solid ground again, you almost wanted to kiss it.

Right now you sat inside the tortoise along with Trish awaiting for the all clear. She seemed awfully quiet, even more then she normally was.

"Trish, I'm proud of what you did back there" you said which snapped her out of her thoughts and she let out a small hum, she probably didn't here you.

"Stands can be hard to get your head around but you used your today like you had been using it for your whole life, eve after a few years I still have a hassle of using mine" you explained to her with a kind smile on your face.

"You have a stand?" She asked.

"Yes, every member of Passioné does... Mines called Temple of the king and it's actually similar to this one" you said as you pointed to the roof of the room.

"I tried to use it to protect us from prosciutto's greatful dead but it had effected me enough to not be able to use it" you explained and the pink haired female leaned in with curiosity in her eyes.

"To put my ability simply, I can create a copy of the area I'm in, like a spiritual clone of where I am... From there no one can see me or any one I drag in with me and no stand can effect anyone in the area... It's not a very offensive but it's definitely good in terms of set up, however if I do get hurt badly I'll lose my focus and the copy will disappear" you explained.

"It sounds interesting" she replied.

"Every stand reflects it's user... I can interpret yours might be formed from your retaliation against you father, you've become more then just poor girl he wished to kill... You have become your own person and taken charge of your fate and are fighting back" you explained and she shook her head in agreement.

"But how do you feel about killing my father, your his soulmate after all?" She asked which left you stunned.

"How do you know that?!"

"I head you and Bruno talking about it earlier" she said as she twirled her hair.

"I'm willing to go to that extent... If he's my soulmate then I'd rather say that I never had one" you explained.

"But as his soulmate I only see one role as such and that is to protect his daughter... Whether he likes it or not... You don't have to look up to me as a motherly figure or anything like that... I just want you to know that I'll take care of you, I know how it feels to lose a loved and to be betrayed by another" you explained as you held onto her hand. You wanted to give her the comfort and security that you wished you had instead of isolating yourself from it all.

Tears began to build up in your eyes as you felt her hug you but you refused to make yourself look like a crybaby after your promise to protect her.

"God why does everyone treat me like a kid?" She asked in a joking tone.

"Coz your the youngest but don't worry, I'm six years older then Bruno and he still treats me like a kid" you explained as you hugged her back before you heard Bruno call your name.

"I gotta go now" you said as you pulled away before returning to the real world.

"Yes Bucciallati?" You asked.

"I want you to stay with Abbaccio while he's using Moody Blues while we watch out for anything suspicious" he explained.

"Of course, I'll use Temple of the king right now" you said as you summoned your fox like stand to quickly create the spiritual clone as the others left. You felt and aching sensation on your nose before wiping your wrist over your nostrils only to see a dark red liquid on it but you just simply shook it off as a simple nosebleed and nothing more.

It seemed like minutes that you and Abbaccio sat in silence as you waited for Moody Blues' replay when all of a sudden you felt your face being cut apart causing you to fall back in pain and your stand to disburse.

"(Y/n) what's going on?!" Abbaccio yelled as he picked you up. You were stunned and unable to talk.

"Is it an enemy stand?" He asked with concern in his voice.

"No... I think the boss is in a confrontation-" you said before you yelped out in pain as you felt  painful pricks in your skin, you could practically taste the blood on your lips.

"What on earth makes you think that?" He asked.

"An old tale no grandmother told me... That some soulmates can feel each overs pain... It must be a stand user he's up against if... And a deadly efficient one at that..." You said through you gasps for air as you kneeled over and coughed up blood before letting out yet another pain filled scream as you felt something embedded under the skin of your neck, you desperately clawed at your skin as you tried to get whatever it was until your neck tore open, you just hoped to God that it hadn't torn any vital points. Whatever the ability was it was savage enough to tear up someone from the inside. This attack wasn't just a simple attempt to kill, it was full of malice and rage... The stand user was obviously a person with no remorse for the boss.

You began to feel light headed and the world began to spin as you felt your body go limp. You were losing to much blood. You could quite possibly die but if the the boss was going to die then you didn't mind being dragged into hell with him.

"(Y/n) I need to get you to the others?!" He yelled as he tried to pick you up.

"No you stay right here, you have to find the bosses identity!" You yelled in response.

"I swear to god... if you even stop Moody Blues... I'll kick your ass..." You muttered before you passed out.

✂️✂️✂️

You woke up again to see you were still in the same place however you felt a strong pair of arms holding you close. You looked up to see Abbaccio and you gave him a hazy glance followed with a worn out smile.

"(Y/n) you had me worried, you could of died" he said in a harsh tone that hid all of his worry.

"I'm... Fine" you said as you looked over to see Moody Blues had almost rewound completely.

You pushed yourself off of him before slumping onto the ground and leaning against the rock he sat on.

You still felt horrible after being unconscious for who knows how long. Your clothes were covered in blood and you felt the dirt cling to your bloody skin. You then that horrible feeling you felt back in Venice returned. Dread filled you as you felt it only getting worse.

"Abbaccio... The boss is on the island, I can feel his presence" you muttered in a ghostly tone full of fear. you tried to summon your stand but you couldn't do anything.

Your feeling of dread only grew more and more as you could feel him getting closer and closer until it became unbearable and made you want to passout again. The only thing that seemed to catch your attention was a stray soccer ball that got stuck in a tall shrub beside Abbaccio. A young male approached you two and Abbaccio flicked the ball off and the boy chased it.

Your vision doubled as you felt such an unbearable pain. A certain male in the small crowd that followed the boy caught your attention. You knew that he was the boss.

"Abbaccio look out!" You tried screamed but it was too late, he had already been impaled by his stands fist. As his body fell you caught it in your weak arms. The world seemed to go by as if nothing happened. Nobody came to aid you, nobody battered an eye.

You swayed back and forward as you drifted in and out of consciousness as you saw the pink haired boy from before approach you and kneel down to eye level with you. He held a shoe to his ear as one hazel eyes watched you while a emerald green eye darted all over the place.

"What about her boss?" He asked with a voice of pity.

"You would let me? Your too kind boss" he remarked.

"Oh you want me to wait here for the other traitors?" he asked before you grabbed the males collar and yanked him forward.

"Listen to me you bastard, the other are going to kick your ass into a grave for what you've done... And tell your boss he's a fucking coward... And that he's going straight to the ninth circle of hell for all of the sins he has committed" you hissed through deep breaths. The male flashed you a wicked grin as the hazel eyes turned the same shade of green as the other.

"There is a difference between being cowardly and being smart... I know you won't be conscious long enough to say your good byes to your dear team mates, I'll tell them that you had your complete trust in them..." he said in a completely different voice.

✂️✂️✂️

You woke up, wishing that you had passed away and gone to heaven but instead you were bound to a chair in a dimly lit room full of white sheets covering objects under them.

You inspected the room further to realise that it was a ballroom.

You wanted to gag as the smell of resin wafted through the room. This was one of Passionè's soirèes which gave you a terrifying thought as to what might lie under the sheets.

You flinched as you heard a pair of footsteps approach you from behind. You summoned Temple of the king and quickly hid yourself.

"(Y/n) you can't trick me, I know what your stand does" the soft voice of the boy from Sardinia echoed through the large room.

"You don't need to hide, I promise I won't hurt you" his sickeningly sweet voice rang as he stood in front of you. You  sighed as the second area disbursed.

"Your such a sneaky little fox" he mused as he rubbed your cheek. Tears flooded your eyes as he held you in such an endearing way.

"What happened to Trish?" You asked him, his eye turned into that eerie green.

"The girl was tough, she definitely got some of my traits but in the end she couldn't match me, eventually I just ended up strangling the life out of her" he explained your froze in horror as you heard this monster tell you how he mercilessly murdered his own daughter. You just wished you could have kept your promise to protect her.

"Why, why didn't you just let me die" you sobbed and the males eyes returned to their original hazel

"Now why would you want to die?" He asked as he hugged your form.

"You killed the people closest to me! You killed your own child!" You screamed.

"What on earth are you talking about? I never killed anyone and I don't have a child, besides why care about them, they're long gone so why don't you just love me... We're soulmates after all" he said with a sweet smile on his lips.

"Do you really just want to see your friends... I will show you them if you really want me to" he said in a creepily monotone voice. You stared down at you lap as you heard the boy's footsteps echo and then the in your peripheral vision the white sheets fall to the ground one by one, five in total.

You looked up, deep in your gut you knew what to expect but you still screamed in terror as you saw the mangled and disfigured bodies of each of your team mates cast in a thin layer of resin. Abbaccio had the same hole through his chest that you had seen inflicted earlier, half of Bruno's head was smashed to the point where it was bearly recognisable, Narancia's head hung limply to the side and his legs were bent in an unnatural manner. Giorno had a pole of sorts jammed into his chest that quite possibly went straight through his heart and the supposed luckiest of the group, Mista was riddled with bullet holes, he would usually just get back up and treat it like it was nothing but you knew there was no way he would have survived this time.

"The boss wanted each of their bodies to be preserved to show everyone the consequences of betraying him" he explained.

"So am I next?" You asked.

"Of course not, the boss told me to keep you and I'm happy he did" he said with such childish happiness but you were slowly figuring out this situation. The boss must have split personality disorder. It would explain a lot, how he was able to keep himself completely anonymous yet still know every thing that happened, why his eyes kept changing and why how the hazel eyes him seem totally oblivious to some of his actions and you realised that the boss was only keeping you alive as killing you would more then likely become suicide.

"(Y/n) I know we bearly know anything about each other but I'm sure after a while you learn to love me" the boy smile before pecking your cheek.

"We're fate bound lovers" he continued.

"No...no...no" was the only thing you could mutter which looped over and over like miserable chant.

You just couldn't stop crying, everyone you knew was gone and you were left to the overly affectionate alternate persona of the boss. More then likely you would be under lock and key for the rest of your Life...

[sparkie96]

Morrison and Dante finally go on vacation somewhere far away from Redgrave, but Dante is worried sick about being away from his children for too long. He tries to hide it but he’s texting the babysitter (Nero, Leon, or Vergil) every five minutes.

Leon had apologized profusely when it came to babysitting the demon babies, saying that he and Chris had to go upstate to a convention of sorts for the Bioterrorism Alliance. They would be gone the whole weekend, but Leon said he would be able to come and relieve whoever Morrison and Dante had babysitting Reddie, Greenie and Blue. Dante accepted Leon’s offer, but he still had needed someone to care for the babies over the weekend. 

Nero wasn’t around obviously, him, Nico, Lady and Trish having taken over the Devil-Hunting business while Dante was away. The demons seemed to alway double whenever Dante did go away. Kyrie wasn’t available due to her work at the orphanage and Patty was helping her, and Dante didn’t want to burden them with anymore babies. 

Which left Dante with one last option: Vergil. 

Although they were no longer trying to kill one another due to some difference as to why they existed, they still were not on the best terms. Good enough to still be in the same room as one another, but they weren’t best friends for life. Dante still trusted him enough to watch after them. Though the more paranoid part of his mind kept thinking something bad was going to happen to them. 

Hence why he was calling Vergil again...just for another check-up. 

“Dante, this is the fifth time you’ve called to check on the children in the last...three hours.” Vergil’s voice informed the Omega, probably pausing to check the clock on the wall, “I may not have had a hand in raising Nero, but I do think I am capable enough to care for three little half-demon, half-human hybrids no bigger than dolls.” 

“Well,” Dante said with a nervous chuckle as he and Morrison got settled in their hotel room, standing on the balcony overlooking the ocean, “I just...miss them, y’know? I’m always around the little buggers so it’s weird when I’m not.” 

“Good-bye Dante.” Vergil said before hanging up the phone, sitting with the babies by the fireplace, reading a story aloud to them. 

Dante looked at the cellphone, giving it a look before sighing. Morrison opened the sliding door, asking if everything was alright with Patty. He didn’t know that Dante had called Devil May Cry again. Dante tucked the phone in his pocket with a faux smile, nodding and informing Morrison that everything was “a-okay”. 

“Are you sure?” Morrison asked as he hugged Dante close, “You didn’t call Vergil again, did you?” 

Dante scoffed and gave a fake look of surprise, “What? No!” He chuckled, “Why would I do that? We just got here!” 

“Because you called Devil May Cry four times already.” Morrison said, “And I know how much you worry about the babies...despite acting like you don’t actually care.” 

Dante waved a hand at him with another chuckle, “I’m fine! All fine! Let’s vacation and get some drinks and all that fun stuff.” 

Morrison smiled and pulled Dante inside, “Good, let’s get settled in and then we can do whatever you want to do.” 

Dante gave a curt nod and a smile, “Right.” 

__________________________________________________________

Though, Dante did anything except relax, constantly calling the shop even when Leon showed up on Monday. During the weekend, Vergil purposely didn’t answer, answering only after several tries and telling Dante to relax or he was going to come to the beach and make him relax. Dante should have found that amusing, considering it took a lot to test his brother’s patience nowadays. Vergil must have been relieved when Leon showed up on Monday. 

“Dante, everything is fine.” Leon reassured, talking to Dante via face-time, “We’re sitting here and having breakfast. Chris even made the babies baby-sized pancakes. Here, Reddie, Blue, Greenie, talk to your Mama.” 

Dante wore a look of relief as Leon turned the screen to the babies, Dante even chuckling as the little demon babies scurried across the table and cooed at the screen in excitement. Reddie sniffed at the camera as Greenie’s little claws reached at it, as if trying to get to Dante. Dante smiled and said hi to his little pups, Morrison chuckling as well as he leaned over at breakfast to see their little ones. 

“They behave for Vergil?” Dante asked. 

Leon chuckled, flipping the screen back to himself, Blue climbing up on to Leon’s shoulder, sitting in the frame as Leon fed him another tiny pancake, “Yeah. Though it was kind of funny. They were speaking whole sentences when we got here.” 

Dante raised a brow at that, “Like...English?” 

Leon nodded, Blue leaning forward and causing Leon to put his hand in front of the little baby so he didn’t accidentally fall, “Yeah. Vergil couldn’t understand their cooing, so he gave them “Magical Cookies” and the elixir they were made with made them speak clear as day. Though, it was like baby talk.” 

Dante’s eyes were wide in horror, “It didn’t do anything to them, did it? They’re okay, right? Oh, I swear I’m gonna-!” 

Leon looked at the screen with a raised brow of his own, exchanged a look with Blue and then both looked back at the screen, “Uh, Dante? You just saw them. They’re alright. He just wanted to understand them so he didn’t accidentally mess up.” 

“Mess up?” Dante asked in confusion once he regained his composure. 

Leon nodded, explaining that Vergil had been nervous about babysitting and didn’t want to mess up doing so for the first time. He was very careful with them and only gave them the elixir so he could ask them what they ate, what they wanted, etc. He didn’t want to let Dante down. 

Dante was quiet as he looked at the screen, feeling almost...touched by the admission. Vergil had been nervous? And he didn’t want to let Dante down? Why would he care? Vergil knew everything and was seemingly confident in everything he did. Dante asked if Leon was sure, and Leon confirmed it, saying that Vergil did have his moments where he wasn’t one-hundred percent confident. He just wasn’t good at admitting it. 

“He wouldn’t admit it in front of Chris,” Leon explained, “Cause he thinks he’s superior to Chris.” 

“Like hell!” Chris called in the background. 

Leon chuckled, “But, he really did want to do good by you. You kind of made him doubt himself with how much you called though.” 

Dante gave another look, looking up at Morrison with a small pout, “Well...if you see him before I do...can you tell him I’m sorry? And that I think he did a good job?” 

Leon smiled and nodded, “Sure thing. Gotta go. We’re taking the little guys to the Aquarium this afternoon. Nero and Kyrie and Patty’s idea, so I gotta give these little ones their baths.” Leon explained, tickling Blue’s tummy, making the baby giggle, “Say “Bye Mama! I love you!”” 

Dante’s heart swooned as the little ones cooed loudly before they hung-up. He didn’t call back as often, only calling once in the morning and once at night. 

________________________________________________________

My AO3 Page / Buy Me a Ko-Fi / Twitter 

[dirtydobrik]

eating disorder exposed - d.d.

requested: yes, this is a combination of two! 1. david request where trisha goes to expose you (cause she’s mad at david) and say you have issues and that’s why the vlog squad pities you and is friends with you and david dates you and she pulls out receipts and screenshots and you ignore all of them except maybe corinna or zane? but then david comes to your door and is sobbing and eventually everything turns out well? IDK JUST LOTS OF ANGST BUT THEN FLUFF and 2. Could you do an imagine where the reader has an eating disorder and David helps her with it? And when Trisha is doing an “exposing” video on the vs she calls her out for having one and body-shames her. The rest of the vs didn’t know about it only Jason, David and Trish, so they all treat her like a baby. Only if you’re comfortable writing about this though. Love your imagines ❤️❤️

warnings: mentions of an eating disorder 

word count: 1140

masterlist 

“And don’t even get me started on David’s girlfriend. God, I could go on and on about that little bitch,” Trisha’s voice echoed throughout the living room. David squeezed your hand and gave you a small smile, reassuring you that her words meant nothing. You curled up next to him as she started talking, terrified of what she would say. You knew she didn’t know much about you, but she did find out one of your biggest secrets. It was a secret you hadn’t even told any of your other friends, only David and Jason.

“Have you ever wondered why she’s always baggy clothing? Or why the vlog squad is so quick to protect her? Or that she never goes out to eat with the rest of the vlog squad? Well, that’s because little miss perfect has an eating disorder. And you would think that she’d be a lot skinnier since she doesn’t eat anything, but clearly, it’s not working,” Trisha scoffed, your stomach dropping at her comments. She had just admitted to the entire world that you had an eating disorder. It was your biggest fear come true.  

“I’ll put up screenshots of texts between me and her, but basically she told me that she couldn’t film a mukbang with me because she needed to model David’s new merch the next day and when I told her we could do it another day, she kept giving me excuses. And I know a bullshit excuse when I hear one, so it was fucking obvious that she was lying to me. It didn’t take long for her to confess the truth to me.”

Tears rolled down your face as a silence filled the room. No one knew what to say. And you wanted to disappear.

“I can also put up screenshots of texts where David asked me for advice on what he should do. He claims he’s worried sick about her health, but he hasn’t brought her to a doctor yet, so I doubt he really cares about,” Trisha rolled her eyes, as multiple screenshots appeared on the screen, dating from various points in your relationship. You pulled your hand away from David’s, not even wanting to look at him after knowing that he was sharing your personal struggles with Trisha.

Zane picked up the remote and shut off the video. No one cared enough to know what else she had to say, instead they were worried about you. Your stomach was in knots and you were a mess. The room was quiet as people shifted uncomfortably, not knowing what to do or say to comfort you.

“Come on,” Corinna whispered, putting her arm around her shoulder and helping you to your feet. She guided you out to her car, pulling tissues out of her purse for you to use as you climbed into the front seat.

“I can’t fucking believe her. She had no right to share my personal life with the entire world,” you shouted angrily. “And David. I can’t fucking believe him either. He talked to her about me when he didn’t even talk to me about it.” Your shouting turned into more tears and Corinna just hugged you tightly. Her hand rubbed small circles on your back as you took a few deep breaths.

“Hey, I love you and I’m here for you,” she whispered. You found comfort in her words. You knew she cared about you and wanted the best for you.

After you calmed down a little bit, Corinna took you back to her apartment. She deleted all social media apps off your phone so you wouldn’t have to read people’s comments to your video. You had gotten multiple messages from your friends saying they watched the video and they felt like shitty friends for not realizing what you were going through.

You ignored David, and everyone else for that matter, for days. You weren’t sure you could face them. Corinna had made you stay at her place because she didn’t trust your mental state. She was worried you’d check and see what people were saying and that their nasty comments would only make you spiral downwards. You still couldn’t believe David had confided in Trisha of all people. He knew it was something you struggled with and you didn’t want to get professional help because you’d tried that before and it didn’t work. Yet he still asked Trisha to help find a therapist or doctor instead of talking to you.

About a week after Trisha’s video was released, you heard a knock on the door to Corinna’s apartment, where you were still staying. You figured she had just locked herself out, so you opened it without thinking twice. But standing in the doorway wasn’t Corinna, but rather a disheveled David. His hair was a complete mess, his eyes were bloodshot, and the bags under his eyes were so dark it looked like he hadn’t slept a wink in the past week.

“What do you want?” you asked, not in the mood for this.

“I need to apologize,” David whispered, and you sighed.  You stared at him, waiting for him to continue. “I shouldn’t have talked to Trisha about you. It wasn’t my secret to tell and it definitely wasn’t anything she needed to know about. I just, I worry about you, babe. I want you to get better.”

“Trisha is not the person to talk to about that,” you argued.

“But she was the only other person you told. You don’t like to talk about it, and you’d change the subject any time I brought it up. I needed to talk to someone about you because I’m so scared that something will happen to you and I needed at least another person to know what’s going on if anything did happen.”

“Well know everyone fucking knows that I have an eating disorder,” you spat, your voice breaking and your knees giving out as you collapsed on to the ground in tears.

David quickly wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly, letting you cry. You buried your face in his chest, feeling weak and defeated.

“I’m right here. You’re going to be okay,” he murmured, kissing the top of your head. “I love you.”

[jojo-therapist]

- Trish Una, “Issues”

Ask submitted by @aplaywrightcalledlucille​, who says “Can I suggest Trish? She’s gone through a lot.” 

Trish most certainly has gone through a lot despite her being only 15. It’s a lot to handle, especially being that young. Dare I say, she’s one of the ones who has gone through the most in her life, since compared to others she is one of the youngest. 

Feel free to submit an ask of any character you would like to see a session for! I have a list that I will go through when I don’t have requests. I do not care for spoilers, so I will do any character from any part. In your ask, you may also request specific issues you would like me to focus on. I can also do characters that have already been done.

Without further ado, let’s get on to Trish! 

DISCLAIMER: I am not a licensed therapist, and this account was made for fun so we can enjoy seeing these characters get therapy. 

TRIGGER WARNING: Mental Breakdown 

Trish: I could be doing much better things right now. I don’t want to waste my time being here. 

Therapist: Is there anything I could get you? Anything that would make you feel more comfortable? 

Trish: I want a sparkling water. And these couches aren’t even good, if you were a good therapist then you would probably have a better quality office. 

Therapist: I apologize for my shortcomings, Trish. I work with what I have. What about you? I heard you didn’t grow up with such lavish things around you. I can only assume it’s a product of being with Mr. Bucciarati. 

Trish: Well I... it doesn’t matter! Just get me what I asked for so we can get through this and go back to doing something interesting. 

Therapist: Alright, I can work with that. So tell me, how did you acquire such a taste? For someone so young I wouldn’t think that you’ve had the time to try these things. 

Trish: Why would you care? Are you jealous that I have good taste? 

Therapist: Are you worried that I’m going to judge you? 

Trish: What? 

Therapist: Do you think that if you don’t ask for expensive and luxurious things that I’m going to think poorly of you? 

Trish: I don’t understand. 

Therapist: I’m not going to judge you because you aren’t wearing expensive makeup or jewelry. I’m not going to judge you if you aren’t a goddess. I get so many people here, people who were drug dealers and rapists, people who did inexcusable and horrible things and you know what, Trish? I don’t judge a single one of them. Not a single person who comes into my office and sits on those chairs is judged by me. I am not your judge. I am not your jury. I am not your executioner. I am just a person who wants to show you care and who wants you to feel okay. 

Trish: I do feel like I’m not worth it a lot of the time. 

Therapist: Want to tell me about it? 

Trish: The others are so strong and I can’t keep up. 

Therapist: Everyone is strong in their own way. And even then, you don’t need to add anything special to the team in order to be wanted and needed there, you just need to be there. Strange, I know. It’s an odd feeling to have. 

Trish: Maybe if I was good enough, Mama wouldn’t have died. 

Therapist: Do you feel guilty over her death? 

Trish: She was sick and died. Maybe if I was better, even at something small, I could have done something to help her and she would still be here. 

Therapist: People die all the time and sometimes there is nothing that can be done to stop it. It’s simply a fact of life that cannot be ignored. You’re only 15, you weren’t expected to save her. 

Trish: If I was good enough, I could have done something to help her. I should have done something to help her but I couldn’t have. 

Therapist: What about your father? 

Trish: Shut up. 

Therapist: I don’t understand. 

Trish: Just get me another sparkling water. This was a mistake. 

Therapist: Trish, it’s okay. I don’t want to hurt- 

Trish: I don’t know, okay? I don’t know why. He loved Mama so much, so why does he want to kill me? What did I do that he is so hell bent on ending my life? I know that we’re trying to find him so that he can’t do anything to me anymore but he’s a gang leader who has been committing horrible crimes for so long, and he’s never gotten caught. What if they fail and he gets to me, what if we succeed and his gang members find me and kill me? I’ve heard of that doctor, of the terrible things he can do to me and the horrible ways he could destroy every piece of my body and my skin crawls just thinking about it. I don’t know what I did to make him hate me so much. Why would he have left Mama if it wasn’t for me? Why would he have abandoned her, making her think that he was going to come back and never did, if he didn’t hate me? I wasn’t even born yet, I don’t know what I did wrong. 

Therapist: It wasn’t your fault, Trish. What you’re doing now is catastrophizing- you’re coming up with every bad possibility in your head and ignoring the potential good ones. Let’s try to think of good outcomes to each of these scenarios. 

Trish: I can’t okay? I can’t! They’re all going to die and it’s my fault! 

Therapist: Name 3 good things in your life right now. They can be anything you want. 

Trish: The gang... flowers... my memories of Mama. 

Therapist: See? You have good things. Focus on those good things. It’s okay to be crying like you are right now, Trish. Remember, I am not here to judge you and I will not judge you. I want the best for you. 

Trish: Okay... I’m calm. 

Therapist: Alright. That’s called grounding yourself- you can do it even just by naming things around you. When things get bad, I want you to try that, okay? 

Trish: Alright. 

Therapist: Let’s start with your first scenario. Let’s say your team fails, what is a good outcome? 

Trish: If my team fails... Maybe the police or somebody else won’t? And it’ll be like in the movies, like a knight in shining armour?

Therapist: Good! So what happens if you succeed? 

Trish: He gets what he deserves and he can’t get to me. 

Therapist: And you’ll be safe, right? 

Trish: But what about people like the doctor? 

Therapist: I want you to tell me. The purpose of this exercise is that you learn how to combat your own catastrophic thoughts. I can’t always be with you, so you need to learn how to do it yourself. 

Trish: Well... if we succeed, then that means that I will be protected, and we can go after them until they’re all dealt with? 

Therapist: Mhm! Now, name a reason that he left your Mama that wouldn’t have anything to do with you. 

Trish: He wanted to deal with the mafia and... didn’t want me or Mama hurt? 

Therapist: I’m so proud of you, Trish. You’re a young child, and yet you have gone through so much. A lot of people much older than you still struggle to do the exercises that you had just done. I want you to do them any time you get those intrusive thoughts, okay? 

Trish: Okay. Thank you. 

Therapist: No, thank you. Thank you for trying, even though there was probably a little voice telling you it was pointless. 

Trish: Can I have a hug? 

Therapist: Of course, sweetie. Of course. Take care of yourself, you are enough and you’re going to be okay. 

Trish: I can’t thank you enough. I’ll see you soon! 

Therapist: Until next time, Trish. 

-end of session- 

[kellykadesperate]

Hi Nicole! I love all of your fics and soooo appreciate you still writing Robron in these dark times LOL I saw your post about additional Seb fics. Maybe a time when Seb witnesses his dads fight after he finds out about their time apart (their many breakups, their first separation, noncanon jail time, whatever) and he worries they’ll split up again? Just an anxious, big-hearted Seb 💕💕

hey trish! hope you enjoy this!

ao3 link

-

He’d like everyone to know that he isn’t gullible and sometimes it results in him basically looking for answers when he doesn’t have to. He’s been told it once or twice before.

It’s been annoying once or twice before.

Seb watches his dads on either side of the bar with a frown on his face over the distance between them. He stares until Jacob’s trying to get Moses to let him drive his car and he’s stepping in.

“Do you want to give nan a heart attack on her birthday?”

Jacob rolls his eyes and Seb just stares at his brother and tries to imagine that he’ll stop being an absolute lunatic one day. He’s all curly hair and bright blue eyes and bruises from trying to be older than he is and he definitely acts like a four year old half the time.

“Suppose not. Dad’d kill me.” Jacob smiles, specifies. “Yeah. Both of them.”

Seb forces himself to look over again, sees Aaron closing in around Robert and hands travelling before they’re moving into the backroom and he’s back to not feeling a digging in his chest.

It’s what he’d call it, this twist that makes him think of how fragile things can be and it’s stupid of him until he’s being reminded.

Moira and Cain off again for the nine hundredth time is enough. Isaac’s all tough skinned about it, rolls his eyes and pretends like he’s not seventeen and has no idea what normal is.

He’s here now and Seb manages to swig a vodka and lemonade from the counter to pass over towards him.

“You look like this is the last place you want to be.” Seb says, eyebrow raised. Isaac looks at the drink and Seb smirks. “It’s lemonade.” He says, winks and then gets a seat next to him.

Isaac actually looks like he wants to be sick after a few gulps of it and Seb would laugh if he didn’t look so sad as well. He’s always looked like this, like he’s close to just doing one and leaving in the dead of night because he can definitely look after himself.

One time, when they were about ten, Isaac had asked him to come along with him to London. He’d said no, said that he needed to be a big brother for now and anyway, Isaac only ended up getting as far as the farthest barn on his mum’s farm.

“Cain still loves Moira.” Seb’s not sure how many times he’s heard it in his life but it’s truth hasn’t ever seemed to waver. He shrugs when Isaac finally looks his way and pulls this face.

“Yeah. Don’t change how much they can’t seem to stay together for more than five minutes.”

Seb sits stumped, thinks of whose fault it is now. He supposes it’s Cain’s. He looks up and sees that his uncle’s knocking back shots and Charity doesn’t seem to be taking pity on him. It’s definitely him.

“I should go and see Matty. See if he wouldn’t mind me staying with him for a bit.”

Seb bites at his lip for a second. “Your mum needs you. Anyway. Them breaking up doesn’t change the fact that —“

“They love me. Yeah.” Isaac rolls his eyes and Seb knows he’s been told it enough times. It must be drilled into his head. He goes to speak when he sees Isaac staring over at Annie and Liv. “Your dads are like the opposite.”

“Of what?”

“Flaky.” Isaac keeps staring at Annie as Ella tries to jump up and hear what they’re talking about. “None of you have been without them. Must be nice.”

Seb stares for a second, feels a pang of guilt and then picks up a beer mat, whacks it lightly over Isaac’s head. “Stop being dramatic.”

“Who’s being dramatic?” Nan comes over like she’s terrified something is wrong. “What’s up with you two?”

Seb decides to down the rest of the drink before she guesses and then he’s shrugging, saying nothing is wrong, asking her if she’s enjoying herself. She is, she doesn’t stop banging on about how lucky she is and then Charity’s reminiscing with her.

Isaac and him go to move, he’d rather be anywhere else than right here listening to what he’s right to guess is going to be something about sagging boobs and wasted nights out.

“— that was when we were together properly. You know, girlfriends.” Seb makes the mistake of rolling his eyes and then he’s being properly spoken to. “I should be thanking you actually, well not you but that dad of yours.”

His nan’s pulls this face. “Ay?”

“Vanessa and them lot were trying to find Robert a new man, remember? You weren’t there but …”

Seb pulls this face because the entire sentence is disgusting. “When was …”

Charity waves a hand out. “They were on a break.”

His nan is clearly passed it. “Which one are we talking about?” She says, bold as bloody brass and Seb just sighs.

His nan’s head dips and he feels instantly embarrassed for even asking about it, feels more embarrassed that charity even bought it up in the first place. He tightens around the hand on his thigh and then Charity is smiling.

“It was ages ago. They’re insufferable now, in a different way.”

“A mushy way.” Seb says, relaxes under it a little and then he’s pulling himself away from the whole thing and going to see where they’ve got to.

He gets to the back door, almost wincing at the thought of seeing his dads getting busy on his nan’s sofa. He goes to move in and then he hears them talking.

It sounds angry, short. He sees Aaron sitting up, looking like he wants to smack Robert around the head. He just stares, almost trips when Marlon’s telling him to help him with the cake.

There’s something already bubbling deep inside of him.

—

Isaac says they’re lucky and he believes him. He just doesn’t understand what’s going on and he’s one million percent sure that if he asks, he’ll get nothing but lies back.

So he keeps it to himself, wakes up the next day to Aaron fluffing cushions on the sofa and complaining of back ache.

He frowns, stills and there’s this niggling in his stomach again. “You slept down here?”

His dad acts like it means nothing, just laughs and then rolls his eyes. “Yeah, why’d you think?”

Seb wants to ask if it’s his dad, supposes that Aaron’s the one who’s done something wrong. He tries to get something out at least. “I don’t know. Dog house?”

His dad looks at him like he doesn’t realise he’s seventeen years old. It’s always been funny, now it makes him want to scream.

“Your dad kicking me off the bed.”

“You had a fight?”

Aaron goes to answer but Ella comes down the stairs, she’s complaining of a headache and his attention is with her instantly. Seb watches him scoop her up into his arms, worry like mad and the questioning is forgotten.

For now.

—

He hears them a few days later bickering by the swings and pointing at Ella and it’s something that makes him stop dead. It’s unlike them to be like this in front of her, in front of any of them and he starts racking his brains about what’s caused it.

He watches until Jacob’s chucking a ball at his head and calling him weird. He’s just come back from school, looks like he’s in no mood to discuss their parents marital issues but Seb presses on.

“You’re just watching them.” Jacob says after he realises where Seb’s attention is.

“They’re fighting.” Seb sits on the bench outside the pub, bounces the ball he’s taken from Jacob and then runs a hand over his knee. “Like proper fighting.”

Jacob pulls this face and he instantly regrets even mentioning it. “Like … Cain and Moira fighting? Like they’re breaking up?”

Seb hears Robert before his other dad. He says something about knowing best, about doing what’s right, about not being a coward and it feels like he’s underwater until Jacob’s standing in front of him.

“Jake, move.”

“No.” Jacob’s suddenly not just a stupid kid. “Just leave it. Leave it alone.”

“Let them split up?” Seb jumps off the bench. “Are you mad?”

Jacob just shrugs. “They’re bickering.”

“That’s how it starts. Ask Isaac.”

And Jacob’s back to being a kid who doesn’t know a thing.

—

“Where’s dad?”

It’s a normal question, it’s Annie being her naive little self and asking the obvious thing that Seb’s too scared to ask.

They’re eating dinner, and Aaron isn’t sitting next to Robert. It looks wrong, feels strange and Seb just observes it all wondering why it’s all happening. He reckons that if he actually understands what they’re arguing about, it’ll be easy to stop.

“He’s on a call out.” Robert smiles so easily, he lies so easily too and that’s what makes Seb spin, his mouth open wide when Ella and Annie are in bed.

“Where’s he really?” Seb asks, he dares to, but as soon as Robert looks at him he wants to take it all back so quickly.

“You think I’m lying?” Robert comes forward, he dips his head and puts a hand on Seb’s shoulder. “Seb. Everything’s fine.”

“Say that again.”

Robert throws a tea towel over his shoulder, gets to drying up and the hand stretches off of Seb’s wet shoulder.

“Everything’s fine.”

He thinks about his dad lying, watches the shiny metal of his ring clink against a glass he’s washing and then nods out something.

—

“They just need to do it.” Isaac says, kicks a football against the wall and then watches it roll back to him.

Seb doesn’t get it, a frown hung on his face. “Do what?”

Isaac tilts his head, looks dead serious before smiling. “Should I draw a diagram for you?”

Seb wants to be sick, actually turns pale and then throws the ball at Isaac to stop him from saying anything else.

—

They had an affair, he knows that. It’s oddly common knowledge around the village and the fact that his dad was married to his aunt is enough to make him feel weird. It’s stopped there though, it’s always stopped there before now.

Before it makes them flimsy and flaky and his mind works over time thinking about it.

He goes to someone who won’t fob him off, he goes to Liv and she just laughs at him which is the exact opposite of helpful.

“This ain’t funny.” Seb says. “I’m asking how flimsy they are.” He might seem mad, look madder but he’s also a kid who doesn’t want his parents splitting up like almost everyone else he knows.

“Flimsy?” Seb nods and Liv just gives him this look. “Seb, they’ve got four kids, a house, married for …”

“Married twice.” Seb bites at his lip and then feels himself approaching dramatic and sad territory. “Because of the obvious.”

He’s made her look sad too and he doesn’t know why. He tries to take it back but she only bangs on about it even more.

“You think your dad’s cheating?”

It hasn’t crossed his mind but now it does, it makes him feel like his whole world is shattering around him.

“They’re just … arguing loads.”

“Of course they are. They’re married.” Liv crosses over her legs and pulls out a strand of her hair like she’s so at ease with discussing it all. “They used to be like a tap.” Seb doesn’t follow, thinks she’s being weird. “You know off one minute, on the next.”

Seb sighs. “Is this supposed to —“

“And then you came along.”

“Blew up the whole thing.” Seb says, and he’s starting to regret coming to Liv’s artsy flat to get this as ‘advice’ on the situation. He almost walks away feeling like that until she leans over and punches at his arm.

“Then put them together again. So stop worrying.” She says and he tries to listen.

—

He doesn’t stop. He thinks of taps for another week until he sees letters addressed to both of them on the coffee table. He peaks a look, feels the weight of them until his dad is coming up of nowhere and taking them from him.

“Excuse me mister.” Seb nearly jumps out of his skin, watches Robert whack him on the head with the letter lightly and then tell him to set the table for dinner.

“Where’s dad?”

Robert shrugs. “Working late I think.” Then he gets a text. “Actually. Pub.” He rolls his eyes and his phone falls against the table. Seb can practically feel his frustration.

“Everything …”

Robert looks up. “We were just going to talk about … but it’s fine.” He sighs hard like it absolutely isn’t.

“About what?” Seb wonders if he’s crossing a line and then tries to be at ease with the fact that he’s not Annie or Ella, he’s old enough to actually give advice now.

His dad doesn’t give him what he wants, says everything is fine and it clearly isn’t. He mentions how his mate’s parents have just finalised their divorce specifically to see the look on his dad’s face but Annie going on about her ballet lessons manages to overtake every other discussion point. He wants to throttle her but he doesn’t, instead he gives her daggers and when she’s finally done banging on it’s Ella refusing to eat broccoli that steals his dad’s attention.

He calls it quits. His dad comes home late and Seb hears them arguing as he leans against the stairs.

“We were meant to talk.”

“Yeah well I was speaking to my mum about it.”

Seb wants to whack his head against the wall, wants to find out exactly what they’re losing their head over. He listens in again a second later, realises he’s missed something when Robert is slamming a draw and telling Aaron that he should really put his shoes on the rack and not leave them about the place.

He only leans away when he hears his dad start thumping up the stairs. He jumps into Ella’s little room to hide and ends up trying to get her to sleep.

She demands five stories and by the last one she’s asleep, only it’s basically scooped up in his arms. He stares down at her, runs a gentle finger over her soft curls and smiles. He thinks of her and what’ll happen if his dads actually do split up. He thinks of Annie being sensitive and Jacob being wild and then back to Ella being so small. Her not having what he did at her age is enough to make him want to get to the bottom of it all.

“Nothing bad’s happening.” He kisses her head and watches her little nose wriggle as he moves her down on her bed and smooths a blanket over her.

Naturally as soon as he’s back in his own room he’s recruiting Jacob by asking him to do the most important thing possible.

“You think you can break your arm or something?” He’s laying in bed with the lights off and Jacob turns to stare at him. He wonders if he’ll think he’s crazy but he just sort of shrugs.

“Yeah. Of course. Easily.” Jacob holds it out and goes to slam it against the wall.

“Woah.” Seb sits up. “Not now. I mean … it doesn’t even have to be your arm, just land yourself in hospital.”

Jacob frowns, turns on his elbows to stare his brother. “Why?”

Seb sighs. “So our dads realise that their fighting is pointless and they should focus on keeping us all together.” It’s a simple enough plan only Jacob pulls a face. “What?”

“Why me?”

It’s a pretty obvious choice. “Well they’d lose their shit if Annie got a paper cut and Ella’s too young to be messing with.”

Jacob frowns. “Looks like you’ve got all of this worked out.” Seb smiles. “But no.”

“Come on. For us.”

Jacob shakes his head. “They’re not going to break up. You know why? Because not every couple is Moira and Cain.”

Seb scoffs. “Daniel’s parents are officially divorced.” He says. “And come on, how many people round here stay together for longer than —“

“Our parents.” Jacob says. Seb doesn’t know where all his confidence in their relationship has come from but he wants to steal it. “So chill.”

Seb pulls a face, tries to go to sleep, tries to chill and then spectacularly cracks a few days later when he sees suitcases by the door as he comes home.

He watches his dad come down the stairs as soon as he walks through the door and he doesn’t know what else to say.

“You’re leaving?”

Aaron just looks at him, nods a little. “Yeah. Just for a few days. Your grandad and nan are going to …”

Seb’s sure he’s crying, he feels his cheeks redden and he bites hard on his gum for what feels like ages until there’s hands on his shoulders.

“Hey, *hey, what’s —“

“I knew it.” He’s seventeen, he’s old enough to understand that people don’t stay together. He thinks about Daniel’s parents splitting up just before Christmas, how Louise only sees her mum on the weekends now. He’s not a kid but he wants to feel like one again.

“Knew what?” Robert’s there suddenly, he’s there with wide eyes and this worried look on his face.

Seb looks at them both, then back towards Aaron and this panic is everywhere. “I can’t lose you.” He thinks of it, so suddenly and it makes everything feel so much worse than he actually imagined. It’s like it hits the surface, waves crash over waves so suddenly.

“You’re not losing anyone.” There’s a hand clasping the back of his neck and Aaron’s telling him but it’s not coming out right. It feels like a lie.

Seb closes his eyes. “That’s what you have to say. But this isn’t like … you won’t see me the way you see Jacob and Annie and Ella.”

Robert closes his eyes, breathes out steadily. “Seb, you’re not making any sense.”

“Neither is this.” Seb rubs at his eyes, pulls back when Aaron tries to hold his face again. “You’re meant to last. You can’t split up.”

“Split up?” His dad is saying, he’s looking at his other dad and they’re both looking at him like he’s absolutely mental. It doesn’t make sense, leaves Seb feeling like he’s definitely missing the point.

“You’re not …” Seb breathes in. “You said you were going away.” He looks at Aaron and then his dad is coming closer towards him.

“We didn’t want to worry you.”

“About what?” Seb’s asking and then Ella’s coming down the stairs with a suitcase and things are starting to make sense. “Is she …”

“They do those checks on her every year don’t they? For her hearing.” Seb thinks of when he first visited Ella in hospital and she was this tiny thing that needed help to breathe. He remembers the box, the small holes he had to squeeze her hand through. He thinks back to the tears, the sadness running through the house until she was officially bought through the doors because she was early, because they thought she’d have little hearing if any. His dad looks at Robert and then smiles nervously. “We’re just going down to London because they referred —“

“Is she …” Seb’s heart is beating out of his chest for a completely different reason. “Dad, is she OK?”

Aaron’s got tears in his eyes, he comes closer and nods. “She’s fine, they just like to check that she’s still fully able to hear us fine. We’re just …” He turns to Robert and there’s this silent communication thing that Seb’s always found mushy. “We were scared.”

“So that’s why …”

“We’re not splitting up.” Robert says it like it’s this fact, like it won’t ever be broken. “You think I’d let that happen?” He runs a hand over Seb’s hair and smiles. “We’re just a little stressed. That’s all.”

Seb gulps hard. “I’m sorry for making it all about me. You’ve got enough …”

“Seb. Seb. I’m going to London.” Ella practically runs into his arms and he catches her, has her little legs wrapped around his middle as she stares up.

He kisses her head, helps his dads put the suitcases in their car and listens to them when they say they’ll talk about everything when they get back.

He has this bunch in his shoulders, this tightness that he wants to go away as he watches them leave.

—

They come back three days later and it’s good news. Ella’s doing well, it’s fine, they’re all fine and yet there’s still this knot in his stomach.

He ends up on the bridge looking down at the lake, has his eyes fixed on the way the water hits pebbles and rushes right over again. He thinks of Jacob, a big grin on his face when he found out that everything was going to be OK between their dads. He thinks of Isaac actually getting a bit of normality back now Cain’s not sleeping on the sofa anymore.

He thinks of how lucky he is until his head feels fuzzy and he has to think about something else. He focuses in on whatever stuff came blurting out of his mouth when he thought his dad was leaving.

The feeling stays until he hears the sound of feet approaching him and he spins to look at who it is. His dad is there, puffer jacket and deep voice and hanging over the bridge just to stare at him.

“I thought I’d find you here.” Aaron says. “Your dad thought you’d be at the cricket pavilion.” He leans forward slightly and Seb marvels at the way his dad makes him feel at ease almost instantly. “Spill.”

“Spill what?”

Aaron sighs and Seb brings his head down again, watches the water run until he can think of something to say.

“I thought you were breaking up.” It seems stupid now, he’s watched how they’ve been since they’ve come back and that stress is clearly forgotten about altogether.

Aaron frowns. “Because we were arguing?”

Seb blushes. “You could break up tomorrow.”

“Seb.” Aaron says his name like he wants to build up to something but Seb decides not to let him.

“I’m not Annie or Ella, I know life isn’t a fairytale. Things happen.”

Aaron looks like a penny’s dropped. “Is that why you were on about your mate’s parents breaking —“ He sighs again. “Your dad told me about it but that’s not us. I love your dad so …”

“You loved him before.” Seb doesn’t know how he’ll ever not be able to think of that time where they weren’t joined at the hip. It’s this fact that even his dads could be fragile. It stays with him, ticks right over in his mind until he looks at his dad again.

He’s greying, crinkles around his eyes and this hunch to his posture that he’s never really noticed.

“I’ll always love him Seb.” He says it so seriously, almost so romantically that Seb wants to forget all this prodding and worth altogether. Almost.

Seb tilts his head up. “That’s what parents say when they …”

“Yeah. You’re right.” His dad almost gives up trying and then looks all serious. “But I meant it.” He blinks out over the bridge and then clears his throat. “I heard what you said. About you. Me not seeing you.” Aaron’s got tears in his eyes. “You think that … because you’re not … that I wouldn’t see you?”

Seb remembers that, the panic he felt and the way everything suddenly felt like it was going to happen whether he liked it or not. He doesn’t know whether he should hold it all in or not and then he breathes out a breath. “My mum’s gone. You and dad are … you’re everything. You know that. But a divorce would mean you don’t legally have to —“

“Fuck legalities.” His dad might be coolest person over thirty he knows but he doesn’t tell him that. Instead he smiles and it breaks something. “Seb, me and your dad aren’t ever going to be without each other. But let’s say in this … weird world you’ve created we were … you’ll always be mine.”

Seb smiles. “I was just scared.”

“You don’t have to be.” His dad comes out of nowhere, leans against the bridge and had a hand against Seb’s back. “Not about me and this one.” He looks over at Aaron and Seb wants to be sick because there’s all this softness between them.

“You sure?” Seb wants to see Robert’s face, wants to know he’s being honest.

Robert nods. “I’m sure.”

Seb sighs, thinks for a second. “So the arguing … it was about what?”

Robert breathes out and then he’s making Seb understand. “Your dad was worried about what these tests would do for Ella, if she’d be scared, if she wouldn’t be able to be the same anymore.”

Aaron jumps in. “You know she’s been doing so well.” Seb nods. “I just didn’t want them to tell us our little girl has something that’ll hold her back.”

“It wouldn’t.” Seb says and Aaron smiles.

“That’s what I said.” Robert says, waves a hand out like they’re in court. “I wanted her to go ahead with all the tests but your dad was less keen about putting her through it all.”

Seb watches Aaron look away and he gets it completely. His dad’s worry over Ella has always been there and he doesn’t think it’ll ever just disappear.

“So we argued.” His dad says, looking at Aaron. “But we had those days in London and …”

Seb suddenly waves a hand around. “I don’t want to hear about you making up.”

His dad punches his arm lightly and things feel less like the world is ending. He wonders how many of his friends hate their parents and it feels weird, doesn’t understand it suddenly.

“We’ve always bickered mate, but it’s always stopped there. We know what it’s like to be without each other, and it’s wrong.” His dad leans over towards him again, then he’s making eyes at his other dad and Seb’s back to wanting to be sick about it all.

“So don’t worry.” Robert has a hand on his shoulder, it’s his thing and for once Seb stares down and feels grateful for it. “Now that’s over … I fancy a take away. You in?”

And yeah, his dads still speak to him like he’s eight and pizza and a film is the best way to spend a Friday night in the world but they love him and each other and he can breathe easy.

He knows.

[yespolkadotkitty]

Breathless, pt 11

Part 10 here

The moon hung, heavy, waxy in the sky, as you watched Conrad check and load two weapons.

“Where did you get those?”

He smiled over at you, his gaze enigmatic. “If you know where to look, who to ask, it’s not so hard.”

The man was a master of understatement.

He offered you what looked, to your untrained eye, like the sort of handgun they used in spy films.

“This is a Glock. Do you know how to shoot?”

You took it carefully, looking at it like it might bite you. “Uh… point and pull the trigger?”

His lips curved, a little. “Aim, too.”

You chuckled; he was lifting the mood again, curling the fear out of you a little, bending it so it didn’t bite so much. “Yes, Sir.”

His gaze darkened ever so slightly, and you thought, pulse kicking up, I’ll dig a bit deeper into that if we survive whatever happens now.

You both dressed quickly, leaving surplus belongings in the room. You’d come back for them, if you were able.

Conrad pulled you in for a quick, hard kiss by the door, and you drank him in, your fingers tangling in his short, thick hair, your tongue dancing with his. You spread your arms over his back, hugging him tightly, trying to compress the feel of his lean, solid warmth into your muscle  memory.

When he let you go, you saw sadness in his gaze.

“Whatever we find, we’ll still have each other?” he asked, cupping your chin.

“Always.” You had no idea how he would fit into your life, but you would make any sacrifice for it to happen. To have him would be to need little else.

You left the little hotel. All was quiet; the ferry didn’t run this time of night. Animals chattered in the darkness as you passed a fast food outlet with a few tourists milling around outside, drinking beer. The moon shone down as you crossed the bridge together, the temple illuminated by small floodlights by the pillars, likely places for tourists who came by in the evenings or early in the morning.

The steps to the temple were wide, not too steep. Conrad held up a hand, and you recognised him put on what you thought of as his game face. Eyes like a hawk, all senses alert. He crept up the steps to where the huge, heavy wooden doors, ornately painted, stood open. The darkness yawning between them like a tomb.

Your own heartbeat sounded loud in your ears as you followed Conrad up the steps. The courtyard through the huge, ornate doors waited, empty. At the right side a little gate had been left ajar. Conrad jerked his head towards it, silent. You nodded agreement. The night here was so still, like a heavy cloak, you were almost afraid to breathe out.

You both slipped through the gate. The Glock felt heavy, tucked into the waistband of the back of your jeans. You hadn’t been sure where else to put it, where it wouldn’t be completely obvious. Maybe it was, anyway, as you weren’t used to firearms.

Neither was your kid brother. Or was he?

Beyond the gate, more steps led to a smaller temple. You looked up. Conrad held up hand up, fist clenched. 

“I see movement,” he whispered.

Your stomach freewheeled for a moment.

“Ready?” he asked.

You nodded, although you had no idea what would greet you.

In the end, your worst fears both were and were not realised. In the smaller temple, Ben and Trish sat on one of three low wooden benches. Ben stood when you entered the doorway, his hair tousled. A few days’ worth of stubble hugged his jaw, and he looked so much like your dear, departed father that a sob escaped your lips.

Conrad glanced at you, concerned.

A few days ago, you’d have run into Ben’s arms, held him tight, cried for his safety. Now you stood stock still. 

He looked…. Fine. Not trapped or co-erced.

Wearing a Malay tie-dye dress, Trish smiled coldly.

“Hey, sis,” Ben said, his tone flat. “You can call off your attack dog.”

Anger rose inside you at his words. “I don’t think I will, yet. Why all this cloak and dagger stuff?” you demanded. 

You let your gaze trail over him in the darkness. He was still your brother, and yet… not. A stranger clothed in your brother’s body, speaking with Ben’s voice.

“Why do you think?” he asked, lazily.

You had the feeling that the rug was about to be pulled from under your feet. “I really don’t know, Ben,” you hissed, struggling for calm. “I’ve wasted a lot of money, trying-”

“Money! It’s always about money with you, isn’t it?” He exploded, eyes shooting daggers. “And control of it.”

Trish glared silently.

You opened your mouth and shut it again, speechless. Finally you asked, “What? If you needed money, I’d have given it to you.”

“Would you? I get an allowance. Like a child. You control it, and me. I’m a grown man, I don’t need to be kept like a dog on a leash by my sister,” he seethed.

What? It was late, you were tired. “I don’t..”

“Of course you don’t, you stupid bitch. Mom and Dad doted on you. The super smart, pretty first child. Left everything to you, left you in control of what I did. I had to go to Harvard to get the allowance, had to do everything by the book, while you got to run free.”

You listened, aghast. “But Dad’s will… that wasn’t anything to do with me, Ben.”

“The hell it wasn’t! You all wanted me to be the perfect image of a well mannered, polite little rich boy, without my own free will. I want to be truly free.”

You glanced at Trish. Had she orchestrated this? It was hard to say. 

“Why lure me here?”

“I had to get you away from all of it.” He gestured to Trish and she slid a small laptop out of a canvas bag. “Make you see sense. I just want freedom, sis. To be myself, with Trish. Money would help.”

Trish opened the laptop and tapped a few buttons.

“Just transfer some of the Trust fund to me.”

You gaped, then shut your mouth, hearing the click of your teeth. “I…. I can’t.”

Ben glanced across at Trish.

“Of course you can,” she snapped. 

“No, I really can’t.” Your hands itched to reach for the gun, but what good would it do? “What’s this about, Ben?”

He sighed dramatically. “You think it’s easy? To live in your fucking shadow? Dad’s shadow? To be told at Harvard - oh, your father would’ve known how to behave. Your father would have done it like this. I’m not my father!”

He roared the last bit, and tears burned the back of your eyes. “I miss him too, Ben. But you can’t just escape-”

“Yes, I can. Trish and I are going to have big adventures where no one cares who my father was or what my last name is. I can be free of his judgement.”

Your heart pounded. “You can’t know-”

“I know that you took over after they died. Did everything. Poor Ben, Ben is so sad, he needs help-”

“You did need help!” you shout back. “Anyone would have!” Any reservations you might have had about Conrad seeing your family drama play out had disappeared with your fears for Ben’s mental health. “Just take a step back, Ben. Please. I can help.”

“I’ve had enough of your help,” he quavered, pulling a gun from the back of his own cargo pants. Your heart just stopped. “Just do it.”

“I can’t. You can have all my money-”

“I want mine!” he snapped, the gun wavering. 

“Ben,” Conrad began. “Losing loved ones is very hard on anyone, let alone losing a parent.”

“Shut up!” His hair and eyes wild, Ben shook the gun. “What do you know? You’re just a rottweiler for hire.”

Conrad stood perfectly still, not rising to the bait.

Trish took the laptop down to you, holding it out. “It’ll take seconds.”

Your heart jumped. Sweat trickled down the back of your neck. “I really can’t. I want to help you, Ben, but-”

“You’re just like Dad!” he shouted. “He wanted to help. But what happened? He left you in charge.”

“What are you not telling me?” you asked, your voice low, but carrying across the near-silent temple floor.

“I told Dad I wanted to be free. Didn’t want to go to Harvard. Wanted to explore for a few years. He said I should be more like you. Responsible. Make something of myself. But I was sick of living in your shadow.”

Your stomach sank like a stone. “Did you….”

He laughed, a hollow sound. “Did I kill them? Fuck, no. I loved them. But they didn’t understand me. I’m not a lawyer, or a congressman. I just want to be free. And then their deaths sealed my fate. I wouldn’t get any money unless I graduated.”

“I don’t understand…”

“I’m failing, okay? I can’t make the grade. And Dad’s lawyer came to tell me there’d be no trust fund money in three years’ time unless I graduate.”

Oh. You hadn’t known that. “You can have my money.”

Ben’s gun hand stopped shaking for a moment. “Another handout from you? Wouldn’t that make you happy?”

“No, Ben, it wouldn’t,” you sob. “I don’t have access to the funds. I really don’t.”

He lifted the gun, and you realised that he was probably having a fully fledged nervous breakdown. Did Trish know? Was she using it? Had she known all along?

“Please, don’t make me do this. If I die, you don’t get anything.”

He smiled grimly. “Surely if you die, I’m the sole heir.”

Oh, God.

You held a hand out.

“If you pull that trigger, I will put a bullet in you,” Conrad told Ben, voice eerily calm.

“It’ll be over, either way,” Ben said softly, his eyes wet.

Everything happened at once. Two shots, Ben’s body on the ground, Trish’s, too. The laptop screen shattering into a thousand shards. And Conrad shouting.

****

You came to in a stark white hospital bed, your vision blurry. When you blinked, clearing it, you saw Conrad sitting next to you. You jerked fully awake.

“Ben! Ben?”

“He’s alive,” Conrad told you softly.

The hospital room smelled of antiseptic and fresh, sea air.

“We’re in Kuala Lumpur,” he added.

“What happened?”

“Easy. You’ve got a concussion from where you fell. You’ll hardly believe this, but it seems that Bill grew a conscience from when I saved his life. He’d had us followed. When Ben pulled the trigger, I jumped at him, pushing him in time for the shot to go wide and hit Trish. It only grazed her arm. She’s in another room. You fell back on to the stone floor. A second later, Bill and two of his…. Associates arrived in the temple, and thank Christ they did, as three of us needed medical attention.”

You breathed in deeply. “He’s not well, Conrad.”

“I quite agree. I’ve had a long chat with Trish.”

You winced on Trish’s behalf, angry with her, but knowing that a chat with Conrad would have been fairly terrifying. “And?”

“She’ s harmless. Along for the ride, and the wealth. A groupie,” he said sadly. 

Your heart ached. “I think a long visit with a doctor is on the cards for Ben. Does he hate me?”

“If he does, you’ve done nothing to deserve it,” Conrad reassured

“How was Bill involved?”

“Ben promised him a big cut of whatever you transferred,” Conrad growled. “I guess in a way, following us was, in his mind, protecting an investment.”

Tears burned your eyes. “Oh, Ben. I should have paid more attention.”

Conrad soothed you, kissing your forehead. “You only loved him. What he did with that was his business.”

You lay back on the pillows. “All that’s left now is to go back and pick up the pieces of my life. I guess.”

Conrad stroked your hair back. “Our life, I rather hope?”

Love bloomed in your chest. “I don’t know how we’ll fit together, Conrad. Do you?”

He stood up from the chair and pulled something from his pocket. A little piece of card. He unfolded it to reveal a single pressed flower from the Botanical Gardens, the stem long. As you watched, confused, he took your hand and tied the long, soft stem around your ring finger. His blue eyes lit with mischief. “I don’t have all the details yet, love. But I hope you’ll let me spend a lifetime figuring them out with you.”

THE END.

Thanks to @hopelessromanticspoonie​ for the beta!!

And thanks to EVERYONE for coming on this journey with me. I hope the ending was OK.

Tagging: @just-the-hiddles​ @lotus-eyedindiangoddess​ @peacope​ @lady-loki-ren​ @vodka-and-some-sass​ @nonsensicalobsessions​ @amarisyousei​ @jessiejunebug​ @villainousshakespeare​ @arch-venus25​ @myoxisbroken​ @xxloki81xx​ @wiczer​

[canid-slashclaw]

The Outliers - A Guild Wars Love Story

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9,  Chapters 10 and 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16 , Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20,  Chapter 21, Chapter 22

Chapter 23

"Out late again, huh?" She said in a sassy tone.

"Up late again, huh! Shouldn't you be in bed already?"

"Were you out with that charr girlfriend again? Getting some of that, rawwrrrr?"

Kaleb lost it.

“SHUT UP RACHEL! I'm sick of your nonsense!"

She screamed back. "Well it's true! You have been seeing her, haven't you?"

"It's none of your damned business who I see!"

The commotion woke up their youngest sibling, Katie. Within a few moments, she ambled down the stairs carrying her stuffed teddy bear as she looked at her big brother with a sleepy set of eyes.

"Why are you yelling?"

Kaleb ran to her and picked her up. "Sorry sweetie. Your big sister and I were just having a little discussion. Rachel - put her to bed, please."

"Why me? You were the one who woke her up by yelling at the top of your lungs," Rachel retorted.

"DO AS I SAY!" Kaleb erupted.

Forgetting that he was holding his little sister close to his mouth, the force of his shout hurt Katie's ears to the point she started bawling. The noise had finally drawn the attention of Mother Shirley who had come to investigate what all the hoopla was about.

"What in Dwayna's name is going on here??" Mother Grimwald said tersely as she strode over to comfort a wailing Katie.

"Sorry, mom. It's just Rachel being a little mouthy brat, that's all," Kaleb commented while trying to console his bawling little sister.

"At least I'm not getting pussy...cat late at night with a charr!" Rachel shot back.

Kaleb was now flushed with rage. "Don't you know when to cut it??"

Shirley looked her son in the eyes as the nature of her facial expression began to change. "Rachel - take Katie to her room right this instant! Son - that look on your face... I've seen it before."

"What are you talking about, mom?"

"He's in love with that charr. The two of them have been doing it with each other. I have proof," Rachel said as she carried Katie up to her room.

"What are Kal and the charr doing with each other?" Katie asked innocently.

"Nevermind sis. When you get older, you'll understand," her older sister said as she opened the door to her younger sister's room.

"Kaleb! Is it... is it, true? Have you actually been...?" His mother was at a loss for words.

"Mom. Rachel is trying to embarrass me, that's all."

His mother's look suddenly changed from shock to an expression of sadness mixed with rage. "No. Nooo. By Lyssa's mercy, it can't be!!"

Shirley began to bawl openly as she pointed towards her son. Within moments, the elder Grimwald, Daniel, stepped in from the back kitchen door while hobbling along using a crutch. As soon as she saw her husband, she walked over towards him, nestled her head into his chest crying then pointed towards Kaleb.

"Our son has been having relations with that female charr! I know that look on his face anywhere. It's the look of a forlorn lover, that's what it is!" His mother's bawling became even more intense.

"What's this all about? Shirley, what in the Sixs' name is going on?" Daniel said as he tried comforting his distraught wife.

"He is in love with that charr whose life he saved, that's what. Ever wonder why he packed so much meat during his picnics?"

Moments later, Rachel came down the stairs carrying a large book with a tan parchment piece of paper inserted between the pages.

"He has been screwing that charr too. Here - I have proof!"

His sister ran to the dining room table then laid out the book. She opened it to the pages displaying the explicit illustrations of charr engaged in mating positions. She also placed the letter on the table that Amalthia had written to Kaleb as well.

Both of Kaleb's parents saw the illustrations as Rachel stood back with a wide, sinister grin on her face.

"Son. Is this true?" The elder Grimwald asked with a voice of shock.

"What are you talking about?" Kaleb responded.

"Did you have carnal relations with a charr?" His mother asked pointedly. "Rachel - go to your room NOW young lady. I will discuss the nature of your possession of such a filthy book at a later time. For now, just go!"

The middle child ran back to her room but not before giving Kaleb a razzing before departing.

"Answer you mother's question, son. Did you have unholy relations?" His father asked in an even tone.

Kaleb stood his ground. "Father, there is nothing about our relationship that is unholy. She and I have been together for awhile."

"Answer the damn question, son... did you have this kind of relationship with her?" His father said as he pointed towards the graphic illustrations.

"What business is it of yours if I did?" His son spat.

His mother summoned the courage to read the love letter. When she did her expression turned to sheer horror. Father Grimwald read it as well. When he did, his face darkened with anger.

"So it's true... you are in love with this charr."

Mother Grimwald became unhinged as she ran over, grabbed the objectionable book and began tearing the pages to shreds. As she shredded the material, she began reciting every scriptural verse she was able to recall.

"This evil is to never defile our blessed house again! Such immoral filth has corrupted your soul, son. May Grenth have mercy on your misguided deeds," she said as she frantically began gathering up the hewn remnants of the book.

"Well, Grenth can just stick it where the sun don't shine! Same goes for the other Five. And yes, I am in love with Amalthia. She has a name in case you didn't comprehend that. Oh, and hail Abaddon!" Kaleb snarked as he gave a mocking ceremonial bow to a god he did not believe in.

His father had reached his breaking point. "Son. You do not blaspheme the Six and you certainly do not praise the Fallen One. What's happened to you?"

"I fell in love, dad. With someone I truly care about and who truly cares about me. Is that so hard to understand?"

"Patricia cares about you, about us, about this family!" His father shot back.

"She only cares about this land, father. You more than anyone knows this to be true."

"Why, son. Whyyy??" Shirley started to bawl again.

"So you leave a perfectly beautiful girl with a prosperous loving family to be with, to be with an animal?"

Kaleb's rage had tipped the boiling point as well. "If you weren't my dad, I would deck you for calling Amalthia that. Grow a godsdamn backbone for a change, father! You only approve of Trish because Mom is so desperate for a Grimwald to pop out some grandkids. She doesn't have any clue how much Trish's father, Milton, has been coveting this land and for how long."

"That's it, son! You've talked back to me, insulted your mother, blasphemed the Six and committed unholy relations with a beast. You Kaleb Grimwald, are no longer welcome to stay under this abode!" His father shouted in a raging tone that Kaleb had never heard before.

"So you're kicking me out onto the streets? Who’s going to run your business?"

"My brother, Bill, and his son will offer a hand. Either way, I'll manage. I just want you out of this house within the hour. Otherwise I will call the authorities," Daniel said as he gave his son a harsh glare. Kaleb sunk to the floor as a torrent of tears fell from his dark brown eyes. Everything that he ever knew and loved was collapsing all around him at once.

It took a little over an hour for Kaleb to pack his belongings. When he was finished, he wandered with only a backpack over his shoulders and his trusty weapons by his side. As he was heading down, Katie opened the door from her room then ran down the stairs to hug him.

"You have a nappie pack on. Where are you going?"

Kaleb knelt down and hugged her. "It's okay, sweetheart. Big brother has to go away for a while. Remember, no matter what happens, your big brother will always love ya."

"How long will you be gone?" His little sister asked.

"I wish I knew, Katie," Kaleb said as he leaned past her and looked at his father's stern expression.

I wish I knew.

He departed the one place he had called home his entire life. Once a promising son who was slated to take over the wagon making business, was now unemployed, destitute and - for the first time in his life - without a place to call home.

Kaleb knew the only place that was like a home away from home for him was the Jotun's Corpse tavern. Perhaps Ulfgar would offer him a place to stay. He had the skills to become a freelance bounty hunter along with plenty of local connections, so finding a way of earning income wouldn't be a problem. At least he wanted to believe that, anyways.

When he arrived at the tavern, it was already past one in the morning. By this time, the establishment would normally be closed. However, on this night, he found that the gaslights were still illuminated. As he reached for the door handle, he noticed a hand-written note that was stuck to the front window.

Kaleb:

A special someone has been waiting here for you for quite some time. Feel free to come in.

~Ulf

The bar was empty save for the massive norn who was wiping down the mahogany top. Kaleb walked forward and Ulfgar waved for him to sit down.

"Took you long enough to get here. What's with the long face, boy?"

Kaleb looked down somberly. "Long story. I got your note on the door. Who's this 'special' someone?"

The old norn looked at him, smiled then waved his hand as if gesturing for an unseen someone to come on over. "Who could be, eh? A mighty fine lass, she is."

"Kaleb?" Came the voice from behind the young man.

He recognized it immediately.

"Amalthia??"

When he turned around to look, he saw her standing there, head bowed, her somber amber eyes looking straight at him. As she approached, her facial expression changed to a much more joyous one as she opened her arms wide.

"Kaleb! Get over here, you!" The two lovers embraced and Kaleb's heart was filled with a measure of happiness once more.

"I can't believe you waited all this time hoping that I'd be here. Not that I'm complaining, mind you," he said to her as they held hands.

Amalthia's ears twitched while squeezing his hand hard. "I would have slept in the pouring rain next to a mucking stall if it meant you would eventually be there. Kaleb, there's so much I have to tell you..."

"It's okay, Ama. I'm in the same boat too."

Ulfgar smiled at both of them then offered each a stein of mead. "Yer two outliers if I ever saw 'em. These are on the house. Now tell your good friend Ulf what happened, lad."

Amalthia looked at him and was curious as well. "At the risk of sounding like a drunken parrot, what did happen?"

Kaleb lowered his head as he stared into his mug. "My parents found out about our relationship - no thanks to my backstabbing little twit-of-a sister. Anyway, I got into a heated argument with my folks and wound up getting kicked outta the house."

"Oh no!" Amalthia said as she tried to console him.

"That's terrible news, lad." Ulfgar shook his head.

"So now, I have no place to go."

"Lad. You'll always have a place here when things get tough. So long as you can earn yer keep, there's a room upstairs waitin' for ya. Both of ya, in fact"

"Ulfgar, that is too kind of you. Thank you!" She said as she reached over to give the old norn a hug.

"It's never a problem helping friends. Your sire and I go way back and the least I could do is help his only cub. Besides, I would very much like to get to know you better as you won over one of the best humans I've ever had the honor of serving drinks to."

"Thank you, Ulf. It means a lot. Kaleb - I wanted to tell you that my sire, um... father holds no ill feelings towards you. What he did was just an act to convince mother we were no good to her anymore. From now on, she should no longer pose a threat to you or anyone. For all intents and purposes, she's out of our lives for good," Amalthia explained.

"Thank you, Ulfgar." Kaleb, then, looked at Amalthia and said. "None taken. I probably would have done the same thing had I been in his paw pads. You are lucky to have a father who protects you the way he does."

Kaleb gazed into her amber eyes then kissed her on the forehead. Amalthia's ears twitched in gratitude.

"I'm assuming you are no longer working for your family anymore. If that's the case then how do you plan on making an income?" She asked.

A sudden flash of inspiration came into Kaleb's mind. "Amalthia. How about you and I go into the business of freelance bounty hunting together? We worked really well as a team before and with your skills and mine paired together, we could make a killing! Quite literally, I might add too."

She thought about it for a moment before smiling and nodding to him in agreement. "Funny thing. I was thinking along similar lines as well. But what shall we call our little enterprise?"

Ulfgar chimed in. "Um. Outliers sounds like a fitting name if ya ask me."

Both Kaleb and Amalthia looked at each other and smiled widely.

"Outliers!"

"You are an inspiration, old friend!" Kaleb said as he clapped the norn on the shoulder.

Amalthia had a flash of insight of her own as well. "We need a theme to go with our brand. Hey! I could talk to Ariyana. She does all kinds of custom outfits. I think I could talk her into designing us some."

"Good call. But we are going to need a catchy logo of some sort. Oie! My brain is exhausted from all of the excitement," Kaleb said as he tried to think of some interesting concepts.

"There's been plenty of excitement for both of us, Kal. Ulf - I'm still employed by my sire so I've got plenty of coin if you need a down payment for rent," Amalthia said as she pulled a leather coin purse from her pocket.

"Thank you, lass. But you and Kaleb have to get your house in order first. I'll quote you a very fair price once the two of you get things squared. Now get some rest, both you pups. Tomorrow is a brighter day."

Ulfgar showed Kaleb and Amalthia the upstairs room that was available. Once they were settled into their new surroundings, the pair mutually decided that donning garments of any kind was far too burdensome. Thus, they stripped down until both were lying on the large bed, completely bereft of clothing.

Amalthia nestled her head against Kaleb's chest as she purred in contentment. "My lower horns aren't hurting you, are they?"

"Nah. You're fine, honey," he said as he began stroking her long, golden mane.

"I'm just glad to be here with you." Her voice became a soft purr as she pushed her muzzle into the crook of his neck.

Resting his hand between her larger upper horns and stroking her lovely mane, something dawned on him.

"You know what?"

"What?"

"This will be our first night in bed together. I sure hope you have some birth control," Kaleb said in a tongue-in-cheek tone.

"Oh shut your hole, you! We are birth control together. Besides, it's not like my plumbing works down there anyway," Amalthia said as Kaleb rolled on top of her.

"Crap! I forgot about that. I'm so sorry."

She just smiled then slid her raspy tongue down his mouth for a moment before withdrawing. "I'm not. Now stop talking and make love to me, you big not-so-hairy beast!"

That night two souls from two different worlds shared their love together, for the first time, under the same roof.

(All chapters have been posted to AO3. Chapter 23 is posted here.)

[ouronlyangelhes]

The Girl On The Side: Harry Styles Imagine Part Two

Thank you for all the feedback I got on the first part of this. If you’d like to read it, click here. Or the master list that is linked in bio. I hope you love it! Let me know if you’d like another part.

Love can push people to do things that they never thought that they were capable of doing. You never would’ve believed someone if they told you that you would began an affair with a married man. Let alone, develop love for that man. Love is what you felt for Harry and the love that he felt belonged to his wife. Isn’t that how it’s suppose to be?

You get married because you’re so in love with that person and can’t see spending another day with anyone else. So how did Harry let himself love his wife but spend his extra time entangled in the sheets with you. Originally, you thought it was going to be a one time thing that the two of you were never going to bring up, and pretend that it never happened. However, that was not the case.

The two of you continued to see one another and your feelings of physical attraction quickly stemmed into love. It was just the sex though, as amazing as that was you felt like you had a deeper connection with Harry as well. Your feelings for him surpassed what feelings was taking place in the bedroom.

“Hey Styles, I hear that you and the wife are trying to have a baby. Best of luck to you guys! You two are going to make great parents whenever it happens.” You overheard your co worker say to Harry.

Harry and his wife were planning to have kids? Obviously they were going to that because they were married. You felt extremely stupid and in the dark more than ever.

“Thanks man, I really appreciate it. We’re excited you know, whenever it happens. We’re not really in a rush, plus all the trying isn’t all that bad.” You could see Harry but you knew him well enough to know that he had a smirk resting on his face.

You felt sick, you had to step outside and get some fresh air. You were walking, no real sign of where you were going. All you knew was that you couldn’t get that conversation out of your mind. You felt betrayed. Which was rich coming from you since you were the other woman in this scenario. You wanted all of those things with Harry. You wanted to be the one that he came home to at the end of the day, the one he could hold hands with and kiss in public, the one he wanted to have a family with. You were never gonna be that person. That was something reserved for his wife only. You were mad at yourself that it took you this long to figure it out.

“I was gonna go grab some lunch really fast, so yeh want me to grab you something too?” Harry said as he stuck his head in your office.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you and Sarah were starting a family? I feel like that would’ve been a nice bit of information clue me in on.” You said with a noticeable frustrated tone.

“You know that when I’m with you I don’t bring her up. Look that’s something that’s personal between the two of us.” Harry said to you. Personal? What is more personal than sleeping together? What’s more personal than sleeping with someone else’s husband? He had some nerve to say that to you.

“I can’t Harry. I can’t do this anymore with you. Every time you leave and go back to her my heart breaks. I just can’t handle the pain of being let down and being second best. It’s time we end this and let this go, ok?” You said with the pain coming through your voice.

“Love, it doesn’t have to be this way. I know that I can’t give you what you want but I give you something. Isn’t that better than nothing.” He asked you.

“No.” You said as you got up and got out of your office.

The next few weeks were spent trying to put the pieces of your life back together. It was a process, getting over Harry. Even though you two were never really together, at least in the conventional way, you still felt traces of him everywhere. Your house was the worst. You felt like you saw pieces of him everywhere you looked. The pillow next to you still smelt like him, you would find some extra shirts scattered around your place, you would find notes that he had left for you on his way out.

You knew you had made the right choice in ending your relationship with Harry, it didn’t make it hurt any less. It hurt because you had loved him, really loved him, and still do. You did a pretty good job of avoiding him at work for the most part, well as much as you could avoid someone that you work with.

“So for the next term, we are really trying to boost the new program and make sure that all of the other offices are able to catch up to the speed of this one. This one has been performing phenomenally, thanks to all of you hard working people. Some of the other offices have requested that I send a few of you over to help get them all up to date with how we do things. Some of you will be teaching workshops on the new software, others will be attending a conference on how to efficiently communicate all of our new ideas company wide, as well as with our partners. So the assignments are as follows: Trish, Allison, Marcus, and Alec are all going to be heading to the New York office for the next week to set up that office with the new software. And then Y/N and Harry will be going to Italy to the Rome office to make sure everything is up to date there. Then, Alicia, Ryan, Tyler, and Marissa will be heading to the Paris office to share the new ideas and see what they have been working on. All the trip details have been sent to each of you, so make sure you look that over. That’s all. Can’t wait to hear about it when you all get back.” Your boss said to you as she delegates the responsibilities.

She has to be joking, putting you with Harry. This was the worst possible idea but the two of you have worked together for ages and always made a good team. Just when you thought you’d be getting a break from Harry, your boss picks Rome of all places, a romantic Italian city to send the two of you to.

You weren’t at all ready to leave. Part of you was excited that you were getting to go somewhere you had never been, the other part of you was not okay with spending that much time with Harry. He knew just how to reel you in, charm you, and make you weak. You hated that Harry was able to have this much power and control over you, but that’s simply how it easy it was for Harry to pull you back in.

You both were going to be taking the company plane to Rome.

You were sitting on the plane waiting for him, as per usual. You tended to be early to things and he was just on time or liked to keep people waiting, especially you.

“Good morning love, sorry I’m a few behind. I went and got coffee for us.” He said with a smile as he handed you your coffee.

“Thanks.” You said trying to limit the conversation. As soon as Harry started talking you knew he would be able to get himself back right where he wanted, and you weren’t ready to let that happen.

You had spent the majority of the flight ignoring his attempts to make conversation with you.

As soon as the plane landed, you made your way off quickly just wanting to get back to the hotel and get a few hours of sleep in.

“Look I know that I am the last person that you want to talk to right now but I miss talking to you. I know that you meant what you said the other day I’m trying to give you some space but I miss all the conversations we use to have. Feel like I could tell yeh anything.” He said.

“Harry, I can’t do this with you right now. I need some time and a little distance. I’m also super tired so I’m not going to be too great at any conversation at this point. Give me a little while and we can talk ok?” You said to him.

The ride back to the hotel was silent. Harry hadn’t gotten the message that you weren’t ready to talk yet and was handing that better than you thought. As soon as you got to the hotel, you set your stuff down and crawled into bed.

You had been asleep for what felt like ages, when you heard a knock at the door. You got out of bed and looked through the peephole, it was Harry.

“What’s up?” You asked with a slightly annoyed tone.

“I couldn’t sleep, I wanted to talk.” He said to you.

“How could you not sleep? I’m exhausted.” You said as you opened the door to let him in.

“Dunno, my mind was racing I guess.” He said as he sat down on your bed.

“Look, I’m sorry if I’m driving yeh crazy but I just miss talking to you. I didn’t realize how much we talked until we weren’t anymore.” He said.

You didn’t say anything, you didn’t know what there was to say. You were gonna let him get out whatever he needed to get off of his chest.

“You know that conversation we had a while ago, the one about me and Sarah trying to start a family? We found out that her doctor doesn’t think she’s going to be able to have children. They’re other options I mean we could adopt or summat but she was really set on having them and carrying them, ya know? I’m just having a hard time and I know that your probably the last person I should be talking about this with but I feel like I can tell yeh everything.” He said as tears began to pool in his eyes.

You felt his pain. No matter how much you wanted to tell him to get lost and get out, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. He needed someone, you weren’t sure if it was you exactly he need or just someone to listen, but either way you weren’t going to abandon him when he was obviously upset.

“I’m so sorry Harry, I really am.” You said as you wrapped your arms around him to comfort him. Your heart ached for him. No matter how angry you wanted to be, you couldn’t be. You only felt sad for him.

You wiped his tears with the sleeve of your sweatshirt. Harry pressed his lips against yours and you were done for. Every promise you had made yourself go not let this happen had been broken. You couldn’t help yourself, his touch set you on fire. He was capable of doing things to you that nobody else could. You both loved and hated him for that. After the two of you were done, bodies glistening with sweat and out of breath, Harry wrapped his arms around you like he normally did.

The next few days spend in Rome were far more hectic than the first. Meetings and more meetings consumed your days. You hadn’t really spoken to Harry about the events of the other night. You decided you wanted to keep it that way. It was a temporary moment of weakness and you gave in, you were blind and determined to make sure that it didn’t happen again.

You had gotten home from Italy and the jet lag hit you like never before. You had never been so tired in your life. You spent the next day in bed trying to recover from your travels and trying to subside your ever present headache and tiredness.

Work went back to normal, you did what you had to get done and managed to not overlap too much with Harry. Even though the two of you shared an intimate night together while in Italy, Harry finally was understanding that he couldn’t give you the life with him that you had dreamed about. He was being selfish holding onto you while also holding on to his wife, who you knew that he loved deeply.

You continued to go about your days as normal, fighting off the persisting sickness that you knew you would have to eventually fall victim to. You didn’t want to take any days off. Your work was your life, you loved it, it made you feel important and like you had a purpose. Now that you and Harry had ended things you needed that.

As the days went by, you continued to feel poorly. You finally decided to head to the doctors and see what had you feeling so off.

You were seated in the doctors office waiting, when the nurse called you back.

She ran you through the basics, weight, blood pressure, temperature, all the usual things. The doctor came in, “So it’s seems we’ve gotten to bottom of you not feeling well. Your blood test indicated that you’re pregnant. Now, I will set you up with a referral for a great OBGYN, who of course would be able to provide you will more details into like how many weeks you are and things like that. I can send you her way if you’d like, or if you have one then you can just set up the appointment yourself if you’d like.” She said to you.

Pregnant. You couldn’t be. But yet here you were, clearly pregnant.

“Uh, no it’s alright. I don’t need a referral, I have one.” You said clearly still in shock and processing the news.

She sent you our and on your way. Pregnant. You were pregnant with Harry’s child. It still didn’t feel real. It was like an out of body experience that was happening to someone else. You were sure of what you were going to do or how you were going to tell Harry. Could you even tell him? He has a wife for crying out loud. This should be happening between him and her, not Harry and his mistress. You felt stupid, guilty, and protective over the life you just found about all at once. You didn’t know what to do but you had to figure it out and soon.

[hollywwav]

Climbing the Corporate Ladder (DiaDop fanfic)

I'm working on the next chapter right now! I hope you like it and don't forget to comment!

READ ON AO3

Summary: The new president and his young assitant come to change things for good on Passione Inc., a company dedicated to make up and female beauty.

The young boy is secretely in love with his boss, but thanks to an embarassing accident he will have the chance to get more closer to him! Or not...?

An AU where Doppio, the Bucci gang and other characters work for Diavolo, with the special participation of La Squadra!

Warnings: none.

Chapter 1:

ＰＡＳＳＩＯＮＥ™ Empress Liquid Matte Lipstick

After some months of back and forths, this was the change that Passione Inc. Needed since a long battle with sale drops, unproductivity and a really uncomfortable laboral ambient. The employees of Passione weren’t really amused to welcome a new president, mostly because of the fear of another group of severe managers and supervisors, the complete re-structuration of the company or, worse of all, the posible chance of massive layoffs. The business destiny was uncertain, and this was possibly the last opportunity to avoid going bankrupt. But maybe, just maybe, changes don’t have to be necessarily bad, right? Why not being optimistic just for once? Maybe it couldn’t be that bad to have a new male president for a makeup company...

 Diavolo was the perfect man for the position. A clever, determined, and experienced man with a short but sucessful career in the world of female beauty. Too impressive, but also too “misterious” and portable of a “dark menacing aura” that most of the employees could not stand and tried to avoid as much as possible. A total opposite of him was his assistant, Vinegar Doppio, a cheerful young man that sometimes was too clumsy and distracted, and sometimes too shy at interacting with other people. But everyone in the company liked him anyways, he was really pleasant and interesting to talk too, everytime he had a break after serving his boss the lunch or a cup of coffee.

 “He is too harsh with everyone around him!” told Mista to the young boy while helping him with some fallen documents.

 “I think I heard him yelling at you this morning, did he?”

 “What? Of course not! He must have been talking to his daughter on the phone!” said Doppio with a little blush in his cheeks and looking down a bit nervous.

 “Also... he always treats me respectfully...”

 Oh yes, Doppio was working for Diavolo since some months ago and now he was deeply in love with him. He couldn’t resist his imponent presence, elegance, his deep voice, his misterious green eyes and, god, that lovely long pink hair... Everything about Diavolo was enciting. It was really difficult to concentrate on the daily work when he had such a desirable man around him most of the time, then things got worse when the boss started to smile and talk to him more confidently, and even he started to call him “my Doppio” after being used to his joyful presence and great efficiency in the organization and personal tasks.

 “Ah... why do you have to torture me saying that!! it's not fair...” said Doppio to himself while daydreaming with those dark lips caressing his.

 “My Doppio ... you do such an excellent job ... I need to reward you in some way ...” said the boss in the boy's imagination, letting him sit on his lap and lifting his chin up reaching for his little soft lips. Doppio just closed his eyes and corresponded the kiss.

 "Oh, boss ... you're so nice with me ... I love working for you ..."

 Unfortunately, those daydreams were just that. Daydreams. Doppio heard the boss was married to a beatiful ex model called Donatella Una, and they had a teenage girl called Trish. The same girl that sometimes called the boss begging for money for new shoes or to negotiate her remain days of grounding. Doppio didn’t know about Donatella because he wasn’t really interested in the fashion world, and Diavolo didn’t like to talk about his family or private life. But of course, it was totally logical to have a model or celebrity as wife when you're a rich and sucessful bussiness man.  Anyways, if Diavolo wasn’t married or if even he liked men, there would be no chances at all to conquer his heart. Why would him fall for a childish and simple boy like him? He wasn’t tall, strong or intelligent like his boss. And after some recent rejections, why would Diavolo -of all the people- would accept him so easily?

 With a deep sigh and a slight sense of pain in his chest, he accepted the reality.

 “It’s ok... at least I can work with him and enjoy his company...” said Doppio to himself with a sad smile.

But Doppio was wrong. So wrong. Diavolo desired him secretly as much or even more than he thought since the day he saw him in the HR department for the job interview. There were few candidates, but after personally checking his CV he decided Doppio would be the ideal person for the position, so after talking with Bucciarati from human resources, the boy got the call of approval.

 The first days were a bit uncomfortable and the boy felt weird for being with such an important person, but he gradually got used to Diavolo’s personality and did his best to meet his needs. Most of the time the boss was busy and participating from meeting to meeting, but when he had a spare time he liked to talk to Doppio about his day and other trivial things. Diavolo was pleased with the boy’s job performance and mostly with his lack of bad intentions, something he was used to expect about most of the people of the bussiness world.

 “God... he’s so cute and works ten times better than the last assistant I had...” said the boss to himself daydreaming with that cute butt and adorable freckles. Diavolo loved the sight of those round buttocks and nice thighs every time his assistant bent down looking for a fallen pen or searching for an specific document in the lower drawer. He loved those amber eyes, tiny nose and pink lips but most of all, his cheerful and caring personality. Diavolo desired him with so much yearning. He wanted to declare himself but didn’t exactly know how to. On the other hand, a cute and lovely boy like him must have a couple.

 “I just want to grab him right here... I want to touch him... mark him... oh, I want to fuck him so badly... But I can’t do something like that, at least not that way...I’m sure that he would be terrified and he wouldn’t know how to react. But... such a nice boy like him sure has a girlfriend. Can he possibly like men? If so, he would like men like me?... Maybe he just sees me as his boss and nothing else?...”

 Diavolo was getting nervous asking himself those questions but he had a company to lead, and tons of problems to solve, so he tried to forget those thoughts at least for some days.

 That was a terrible week and it was just Wednesday. An issue with the internet network delayed the work, Diavolo had an argument with the marketing director, the sample pigments for the new palettes came with a color mistake, and several employees were sick because of the winter weather. Doppio was healthy but lately more stressed due problems with his department, and now he was running late to Diavolo’s office with mineral water, a pair of folders and receipts. The boy entered the office to discover his boss on the phone, scribbling on a piece of tissue since he couldn’t find anywhere to write between the mountains of paper above his desk.

 “I’m sorry, boss. The elevator is on maintenance and mr. Bruno told me to give you this” -said the boy placing the folders in the chair- “Let me help you with those... papers” Doppio had to take a pause while talking to admire his boss’ outfit. He was wearing a dark burgundy suit, black shirt with a red tie matching his dark lips, a pair of dark gloves and reading glasses.

 “Oh my god... he looks so hot!!” thought the boy with a flushing face, trying to look elsewhere.

 “Doppio! I need to talk to you about the next week schedule, do you have a minute right now?”

 “Of course, boss” the boy tried to just look at Diavolo’s hands, instead of his hot figure.

 “I know I already asked for various re-schedules but please, could you book me an hotel for next monday? I need to reunite with these people in Venezia,  unfortunately there is the chance of closing some subsidiaries and...”

 Diavolo just kept talking while moving his hands but Doppio couldn’t resist to his boss presence, he was totally ignoring what he was saying at this point.

 “His voice is so enchanting... oh... I wish he could say he loves me with that deep voice... I want those arms holding me tightly... I need him... I need him so much...”

 “What's wrong with him? He looks feverish ... ”thought Diavolo watching his assistant's face growing hotter and sighing heavily, with half lidded eyes and semi-opened red lips.

 “Umm... my Doppio... are you ok?” Diavolo just tilted his head down a bit and he found the cause of the boy’s condition. He stopped talking, changed his serious expression to a smirk and got his hand closer to his lips, teasingly.

 “My Doppio... am I distracting you, right? I don’t blame you, it’s inevitable...”

 “Uhh... what! Oh-of course not, boss!! I’m listening!” said the boy snapping from the daydream, and obviously lying to avoid getting scolded.

 “Excuse me, but then... why are you so hard right now?”

 “...”

 “whaaaaaaaa...?” the boy looked down, and efectively, his dick was completely hard and asking for some release. Doppio looked at his boss, then at his erection and then covered it with both hands. His cheeks were completely flushed, and now tried to hide his face, incapable of pronouncing any word.

 “How cute... I should not make him think I’m laughing at him...”

 Diavolo chuckled a bit and smiled, he really was enjoying looking at the boy in this peculiar situation, but then...

 “I-I am... I am sorry...!! I’m so sorry, boss!” said the young boy trembling and crying huge amounts of tears. He started weeping uncontrolably.

 -“I can’t believe this is happening!! I’m getting fired! I ruined everything!! Now he thinks I’m gross... he won’t forgive me... I’m so fucking stupid!!”-

 Doppio just covered his face, trying to not look at his boss, and kept crying. He looked like a filthly brat in front of his boss. Why this had to happen now? Why exactly in this moment? Why can’t he stop being so horny all the time? He never was so ashamed like in this moment. Diavolo changed his smile to a serious look again and got up from the chair instantly when he heard Doppio sobbing.

 “It’s ok, Doppio. Don’t worry.” “Shhhh... don’t cry. It just happens, sometimes for no reason...” Diavolo hold him tighly and cleaned his tears away. He didn’t really wanted to make him cry.

 “I-I... I’m so embarassed... I didn’t want to offend you, boss! Please!... forgive me...”

 “I said it’s fine, my Doppio. I won’t punish you for this, don’t worry...”

 “B-but... I...” The boy was really confused. Why his boss was comforting him so nicely? why didn’t he yell or slapped him? why he looked like this situation was ok?

 “A-aren’t you mad at me?”

 “Of course not, my sweet Doppio”

 “...sweet???...” thought Doppio, most confused than ever.

 “But why?”

 “Well... basically, it’s not your fault... that’s something we can’t control over, right? And that gets worse when you... are in front of somebody... that you really like... right?” Doppio looked at Diavolo directly at his eyes, completely speechless.

 “Am I correct, my Doppio? This reaction was because of me?”

 Doppio’s eyes were big like plates, he was trembling and unable to articulate any words.

 “My Doppio. I am your boss, and you should obey all my orders, ok? Now I’m ordering you to tell me the truth... Do you like me, Doppio?”

 The boy hesitated for a moment and then gave up. He just looked down, waiting for the real punishment.

 “Yes, boss... I do like you... I want you...” he pronounced the last words like a whisper, almost bursting into tears again.

 “Good”

 Diavolo quickly tilted his chin up and smashed his dark and plump lips to the boy’s trembling ones. Doppio instantly opened his eyes and the boss hugged him more tighly. The boy was unable to react. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t even breathe, and then, after some seconds that seemed like eternity, the boss broke the kiss with a fine thread of saliva connecting their mouths.

 “Ah...” said Doppio with the face red as a tomato, too shocked to say anything else.

 “I am so glad to hear that” said his boss looking at him with lustful eyes, licking his lips for a second round of making out.