#March has been a hard month mentally

[corinnetheanime]

So just a heads up: I will be continuing Page 3. Sadly, March as a whole was a month where I lost a lot of motivation and interest in art, partially due to irl stuff. I won’t go into detail about any of that, but it’s a pretty big change. I’m hoping to continue and finish this prologue comic at least so I can get started on the fanfic this year. Drawing OCs and revamping various designs has helped regain a bit of that motivation. :)

Thank you all for your patience. I’m truly thankful.

[pearwaldorf]

I hate that you can't see a tweet thread anymore if you're not logged into Twitter (as a gesture of disrespect I refuse to call it by its rebranded name). Here is a copypasta of a thread from Dan Olson, a Canadian documentary filmmaker, expanding upon camera quality, the guilt trips Somerton used to goose his Patreon subscriptions, and how the best tools will never make up for lack of dedication or patience. I have added clarifications in [[double brackets]] where I feel it is necessary.

START OF THREAD

Okay, so, back in April I snapped at James in reply to a tweet that was linking to this video (which James has since delisted but not deleted) and I want to talk about the full context of that but I don't want to make a video, put your beatdown memes away. [[The video has since been deleted. I can see the title of the video is "Maybe the end (not an April Fool's Day thing".]]

The first bit of context is that I initially got keyed into James to fact-check his claims about indie filmmaking in Canada. As a filmmaker the entire Telos venture was immediately obvious as a juvenile fantasy dreamed up by someone with no idea how to make a movie.

Just wild claims about their plans that weren't worth debunking because they bordered Not Even Wrong. But in watching one of these pitch videos I noticed that he had a $4000 current-gen camera in the background as a prop, and that seemed both pretentious and weird.

You don't use your best camera as a prop, you use your second best camera as a prop. So being an obsessive weirdo I needed to know, and I watched his BTS stuff until I spotted his main rig, a $6000 camera with about $1000 in accessories.

Now, these in isolation are unremarkable because his Patreon at the time was bringing in ~$8000 per month, his channel was a full on Business business, and so investing in some professional equipment of that level is maybe a bit indulgent but justifiable.

What was weird is that he doesn't shoot multi-cam, doesn't shoot outdoors, doesn't shoot on location, and in a studio the two cameras kinda really step on each others' toes. Basically if you already have one and don't need a B cam there's no reason to get the other.

Again, on its own, this says nothing, it's just indicative of poor financial decisions, maybe impulsive purchasing, Gear Acquisition Syndrome. Biblical sins, but not crimes.

Paired with the constantly inflating fantasy scope of the Telos films it was clearly an expression of a very, very common bad filmmaker habit of "if I just get the right gear then my movie will basically make itself" Buying stuff because it feels like progress.

At the end of February he tweets "I want to start shooting anamorphic" and then three weeks later in March he posts the worst, out of focus, under-exposed "I just got a new lens!" video I've ever seen, showing off his trash-covered bedroom.

Based on what's available for his cameras and the lead time, that's enough time to get a Laowa Nanomorph or Sirui Saturn from B&H but not enough time to get a Great Joy from the UK or a Vazen from China. And with the flaring blah blah blah, $1300 lens.

Again, [gear acquisition syndrome] is not a crime and these lenses are budget options. Bit of a pointless impulse purchase since he only used it for the Showgirls video. But this is what he was doing just a few weeks before that above video came out: effortlessly impulse purchasing lenses.

James has (had?) a habit of regularly, aggressively driving viewers to Patreon by claiming that videos were getting demonetized. While tacky, it is something a lot of queer YouTubers have dealt with, so there's precedent there. But people were noticing he did it a lot.

Mid-March he humble brags about needing to work so hard to make 6 videos in April because he has over-booked sponsorships.

Then March 29th James posts this whole incel screed on Twitter about how sex work should be "subsidized as a mental health service."

[two image descriptions.

1. "For the majority of people sex (and human contact) can be imperative to a healthy state of mind. A kind and talented sex worker can make someone feel wanted for the first time in their life. I know sex workers who have pulled people back from suicide just by being there for them." 2. "Not only should (sex work) be legal, but it should be subsidized as a mental health service."]

He spends several days getting absolutely *roasted* for this, just dragged across the pavement and read for filth, and doubles down in the replies the whole way.

So this is the context immediately surrounding James waking up on Friday, and posts the above video and the below tweet.

[image description: "We just got the lowest Patreon payout we've gotten in well over a year. Like, a "maybe we need to rethink things" kind of amount... NOT an April Fools Day thing btw. But I don't know if we'll be making videos much longer."]

Now, this unfolds in kinda two directions. The first is that I'm convinced he was just lying about this income shock in the first place.

There's a million theoretical edge cases about what maybe happened and if maybe he just misunderstood the data or saw a glitch and panicked, maybe one of those happened, I don't believe it, I think he just lied because he was salty about getting dragged and felt owed a win.

A big tell to me is that he doesn't blame Patreon. He says he doesn't know what happened, but let's be real, Patreon screws up all the time, they're the first people anyone blames if anything confusing happens, just as a reflex action, even if it's completely not their fault.

The only reason to not blame Patreon is if you already know that it's not their fault and that any investigation on their part might reveal embarrassing details.

Instead he indirectly blames his viewers for not watching enough, not sharing enough, and not turning on auto-renew.

So regardless of the unknowable truth, this segues into the second, far more offensive direction of the messaging itself. "I don't know if we'll be making videos much longer." "Maybe the end" He explicitly framed this as an immediate existential threat to his channel.

In the video he is vague about everything, leaves a ton of hazy room for plausible deniability on how long the channel can keep going, but the messaging is "I need more patrons right this minute or my YouTube channel is over."

He repeatedly evokes all the "fun stuff" they had planned that would never see the light of day if this didn't turn around right away.

And his audience received this message loud and clear. Tons of people making far, far, far less than him left very heartfelt messages about digging a little deeper to subscribe or up their pledge or unsubscribe from other channels to move their pledge to his.

1200 new patrons in one day.

Since I simply don't believe the income shock was real in the first place that would put his post-"Maybe the end" Patreon income at around $10,000 per month. US. Add YouTube income, he's spent the last seven months making around $18,000 per month.

I have seen creators scale back their capabilities to the bone purely to keep making videos for the love of just, like, making stuff even as their funding evaporated and they needed to go back to a desk job to cover their bills.

You'd have to be so outstandingly reckless with your finances as a channel that a one month spook leads immediately to "channel over, sorry about all the fun stuff we won't get to do with you, our patrons, specifically because you, our patrons, aren't giving us enough money"

And not a spook where you then spend a couple weeks crunching numbers. Oh no. A shock so violent where less than two hours later you're weeping on camera about the channel being over.

Three weeks later he brought a brand new Sony FX6v for $8000 CAD to add to his pile of cinema cameras despite the fact that he was, but scant moments earlier, in such a precarious position that a single bad month would kill his channel.

He stole your money, and for that I'm profoundly sad and angry. That's why I snapped at him in April. I'm sorry I couldn't give you the full context then, and I'm sorry if that anger upset you.

END OF THREAD

[silksongeveryday]

Drawing Hornet everyday until Silksong comes out - Day 365!

1 year! One whole year of daily doodles!!

Honestly?? Idk how to feel, so much has happened since I first started this blog.

I guess I’ll just write what I’m thinking right now??

(Everything under the cut, this thing is longer than I expected)

A lot of this text probably isn’t going to make sense. I’m writing this at 1 am. If there’s any mistakes or errors that’s why. I’ll fix them in the morning maybe.

So like. This whole thing kinda started as a joke, I wasn’t intending to actually draw for a year straight lmao. Like I even used a completely different art style from my regular one that was simple, quick and intentionally dumb. Not that I’m upset by it, I’m actually quite proud of myself that I managed to stick to something for an entire year. That’s pretty unusual for me believe it or not. My original intention was to stop at maybe 20 days because I really wasn’t expecting for this blog to get as much love as it did.

So, from the bottom of my heart, thank you so so much to everyone who has followed and supported this silly little idea I had, you guys are the biggest reason my experience has been so positive and worth it. (Sure it’s not original but I hope it’s at least been interesting!)

I’ve said this a few times now but I’ve mentioned wanting to take a break. I’ll admit that even though it’s been fun it’s still pretty tiring to keep up with this blog sometimes since some recent life events have made it so hard. After some thought, I’ve decided that I’ll likely take a break sometime in the coming months. Maybe toward day 400 or so. As of right now, things are at a lull so I’ve been okay enough mentally and physically to keep up this daily streak I think. Though this could change in an instant for whatever reason.

Overall I think my burnout has kind of gone away I think?? Or at least I’ve been reinvigorated recently after replaying a few runs of hk randomizer and steel soul. No promises it’ll stay away but I silly expect it to come in waves.

Ok but call me crazy or delusional or whatever, but my hopes are up that Silksong will release this year. (which means slowing down/not doing daily doodles yay) I genuinely believe big news is coming since I’ve been getting a lot of dreams lately about something happening with Silksong in March. Idk, I could be wrong but after doing this for a year I’m literally clinging onto anything right now lol

I’d obviously still make the occasional doodle or two when HKSS releases but not daily. This stuff is tough to keep up sometimes, I would never do daily posts like this again once it’s over

Oh yeah also I have an actual big drawing I’m still working on, expect that in sometime in the next few weeks I think!

Anyway, I can’t think of anything else to say right now so I guess that’s it for now!

Thanks so much and here’s to more doodles!

[cepheustarot]

What awaits you in March?

Attention! This reading is for entertainment purposes only. This tarot reading does not give a 100% guarantee that all the described situations will occur or being ultimate truth. You build your own life and destiny and only you know yourself best.

Paid readings

Pick a pile. Choose one or more pictures. Trust your intuition.

Pile 1: At the beginning of the month there is a high probability that you will have a mountain of problems and I cannot single out any one specific area. Apparently, you may have difficulties in all areas of life, you may feel very depressed at the beginning of the month, feel tired, exhausted, you may feel that as soon as you solve one problem, it immediately has twice as many, it will exhaust you very much.

But by the middle of the month you will cope with the difficulties that have arisen! Your condition will gradually improve, you will feel freer, so relieved. By the way this period will be calm for you, I would call it "a long-awaited rest after hard and long work".  Here you will not be overloaded with cases, you will not be physically and mentally exhausted, you will not worry about problems, you will finally feel the long-awaited calm. You can also spend time with your loved ones or family, and some will have the opportunity to meet their future lover! Also during this period, you can pay a lot of attention to yourself, taking care of yourself, taking care of your face and body, you can update your wardrobe, make a permutation, any actions will be directed here to make you feel better. 

As I said earlier some will have the opportunity to meet a future lover, but for others it may be an acquaintance with a person who will later become your best friend. And at the end of the month you will just spend more time with this person, get to know each other better, get closer, talk a lot and the like. Here I see the beginning of some interesting story with this man, the emergence of a strong bond.

Pile 2: At the beginning of the month, you can spend a lot of time with your loved one (it can be either your lover or someone from your family or friends), there is a high probability that you will go on a trip somewhere together or visit some new place for you. In any case, spending time with this person will leave you with only pleasant memories and positive emotions, you will have quite busy days. It can also be a long-awaited meeting for those who have communicated with someone from a distance, whom you have not seen for a long time. 

A good profit will be waiting for you in the middle of the month! You can receive a bonus or financial support from someone, you can be promoted, your salary can be increased, or you will successfully complete the deal. For those who are currently studying, then here you will improve your academic performance, be able to pass all important tests and exams well, and be able to close your academic debt. 

At the end of the month you will be successful in any endeavour, so this is a good opportunity to try yourself in something new, change your field of activity, find a new hobby, start a new project, etc. Here, I see that some of you will decide to engage in self-development, improve your skills and knowledge. Maybe some of you will consult on real estate, renting a room, buying a home. Also, some of you may have a trial scheduled and I want to say that it will go well for you, you will be able to win the case.

Pile 3: At the beginning of the month the business you have been working on for a long time and hard will bring you fruits, the first results! Maybe you started a business and finally it began to bring you the first income, maybe you are engaged in some kind of sports and finally began to see results, maybe you are working in a team on a joint project and success will be waiting for you soon. It can be anything that you have been trying for a long time, the main thing is not to give up halfway and do not give up, believe in yourself! 

In the middle of the month you may encounter family problems or problems from your personal life, there may be a misunderstanding with your family or your lover, there may be a strong quarrel that will leave abad aftertaste. You will worry a lot about this, think a lot about what happened, you can blame yourself or blame others, feel offended, you can also feel pressure from the outside. But to resolve this misunderstanding between you, you need to take the first step, take the initiative — this may not completely resolve the dispute between you, but it may at least contribute to its end. 

At the end of the month your condition will improve, the dispute will finally be resolved, and you will also be able to solve some problems that have been weighing on you for a long time. The relationship between you and your dear people will cease to be tense, you will be able to find a common language, come to a compromise and start communicating again as before. During this period you can also take care of yourself a lot, give yourself gifts, please yourself and allow yourself what you could not.

Thank you for reading! I will be glad of any feedback 🖤

[angryschnauzer]

19th February 2024

An update.

Hubby has finished his radiotherapy. It seemed like a long 6 weeks, and its taken its toll on him with extreme fatigue. He was also on a mild dose of chemotherapy at the same time, that thankfully didn't come with any side affects such as nausea, but he was on anti sickness meds for that.

He'll now have about 4 weeks off all treatment to allow his body to recover and to try and regain some strength. But during those 4 weeks he'll have some tests and MRI's to see if the tumour is growing back.

Then from mid march he will have 6 rounds of strong chemotherapy, with one week on, three weeks off. This will be a much stronger dose so the nausea side affects may be considerably more than the small dose he had with his radiotherapy.

What we don't know is what the prognosis is. We don't know if he has 6 months, 18 months, 5 years, whatever. And now we aren't told either. They wont be pinned down to a 'you have x amount of months left' because its been found this is much more detrimental to patients mental health (and also their families) as if the patent passes away before then there is resentment that the prognosis was wrong, or if the patient lives longer there is also resentment as to 'why did we rush to do the bucket list' when i actually had more time.

This however is impacting my mental health. The uncertainty of what the future holds, and what plans i can make for the future. There are trips with our son's school that i've had to ask the school to make special exceptions for us with where we'd like a space reserved but can't commit to it. Same with any sort of commitment or plan for the future.

Hubby however is fairly relaxed about it all. I honestly think he thinks its going to be cured. He plans on going back to work from start of March, but working the equivalent of 1 day a week spread over 5 days, so around 2 hours a day. This would be working remotely from home, and i do support this as he needs something to concentrate on, but its hard to imagine what future life is going to be like. He can't drive for another 2.5 yrs (one year after his seizure, and then 2 after radiotherapy because it was on his brain), so he won't be able to commute into the office anyway by car, and he can't go via train as he can't carry a bag because of his reconstruction surgery on his shoulder.

Thankfully his employers have been wonderful about this, and we are covered for the bills financially as well but will have to tighten our belts with a lot of things. I'm still trying to work and keep my business going, but finding the time to do so is tough as i'm now basically a full time carer for two people; my son and my husband. (The government doesn't consider the work i do for them 'enough' to pay an allowance though').

So that's were we're at. We've had a lot of other shit thrown at us since the start of the year too, but its not as important as the situation with my husband so that's what i'll keep you updated on.

[astroyongie]

Enhypen Reading March 2024

note: please take it lightly

Heeseung

Love: as far as I can tell, Heeseung is in a relationship at the moment but other have some troubles when it comes to communication (this bc I believe his current s/o is probably not Korean and they might struggle with language barrier which makes the relationship a little complicated) 

Career: he is having some complications with one of the managers, however when it comes to himself, Heeseung has been a little bit out of touch with his career, he isnt putting as much energy as he might have liked to put (that because he feels the dynamics are shifting)

Self: his mental health is struggling a little but that mostly because he was formatted into thinking in a certain way and with maturity and age he is understanding that the world isnt what he initially though it was. He is trying to involve with culture but its hard 

Jay

Love: I do believe that this man is also in a relationship that just started very recently but Jay doesnt seem like he is fully committed with this person. I dont know if there’s a special reason for this, but he is keeping things rather simple of now 

Career: his career is going well, his sponsorship have already wrapped up the contracts for solo stuff and he is more than excited to do them. Jay has also been training hard and putting effort into opportunities to show his fans a new side of his idol character 

Self: he has been money oriented lately, he is focused about himself, about how t improve himself in his wealth side, how to invest and also how t assure himself a positive future because he knows everything can come to an end quickly and he wants to put all the opportunities on his side 

Jake

Love: he is also in a relationship but things are quite weird for him, probably because his relationship feels “long distance” type of thing. He finds himself daydreaming about his partner a lot of times, and he probably have set goals that currently are too unrealistic for him and his partner 

Career: Jake have been some difficulties with his sponsorship that aren’t giving him what he might have wanted because he also cannot repay what they ask from him. Jake also feels like he hasn’t been as close to the other members has he had one been (however this feels like he has been the one taking distance unconsciously) 

Self: couldn’t get anything here 

Sunghoon

Love: boy is still dating the same person he was dating in January and things are going well for them since they are establishing a positive relationship and putting everything in table. I feel that he still puts his career first but he is trying to be a good partner 

Career: some complications here, one of his exclusive contracts wasn’t resigned by his sponsors (the brand probably dismissed him) so he wont be doing anything for them this year (or at least until the current contracts ends). Some difficulties in the relationship with one of the members 

Self: he feels really overwhelmed by everything, by his career, but th image he has to put with his fans with the rules he has to follow and the permeant fear that he can be cancelled for anything and anything. I feel like Sunghoon is walking o eggshells for a potencial reason 

Sunoo

Love: he is still dealing with his last relationship and with the arguments. It feels that even after January, February was a month were him and his ex kept talking (probably because they wanted to fix things) and although they have reached a concensus, the lovebirds are still in a complicated argumentative phase 

Career: I am pretty sure that his sponsor ditched him out and he is currently leaning on the company until they figure out what they can do without that kind of support things are a little more ocmlciated for Sunoo’s career. I also feel like the conflicts inside the company continues 

Self: he feels trapped in his situation. Theres probably a part of Sunoo who wishes to leave the idol life but at the same time he doesnt want to disappoint anyone 

Jungwon

Love: he is still single, nothing changed much since January, Jungwon is still dating with a side of himself that is way too broken to be able to stay in a healthy relationship at the moment. I am concerne about his mental health too 

Career: there’s some changes here, when it comes o his career. Jungwon have been activity putting his goals aside to allow some members to shine more than him yet he still tries to grasp a few whenever they come up 

Self: he is in a very emotional state, just like In January he is someone that longs for a relationship, he longs to find someone that will comfort and love him and that puts him in a fragile position 

Ni-ki

Love: Niki has been seeing people In a non official way however he is being way more selective than he was in January. He isnt allow to just be around anyone and his flings are hand picked 

Career: some complications here as well, I feel like Niki have made some mistakes when it comes to his image and these will keep repeating itself because he totally is obvious about consequences  

Self: he is someone with a straight head and perception and he doesnt allow things of everyday life to touch him in a negative way. Overall, Niki is doing fine, mentally and physically 

[that-gay-guy-from-hell]

Uncontrolled Instincts: Vergil x Male Reader

MINORS DNI; THIS IS FOR ADULTS ONLY

SERIOUSLY, GO AWAY!

SUMMARY: The eldest son of Sparda has been through many trials and tribulations within his almost fifty years of life. Despite this, Vergil was still learning about the different ways his heritage could bring him to his wit's end-- how it could bring him to his knees and leave him completely and utterly at your mercy.

BEGINNING NOTES: Requested by @kasianthus on Tumblr! (Sorry this took so long--didn't know if should still stage because of that so sorry if you aren't really into DMC anymore in the like year this took lmao sorry) This legit has been sitting half-finished for months (Like this was requested way back on March 5th lmfao); so I figured I should probably finish it lmfao 🦢💧🦢 Top/Dom Vergil x Sub/Bottom Male reader Pre-established relationship Semi-mindless smut with a lil' fluff Lots of smut--like a ton. Rut (Vergil); the reader is unaware of this being a thing in devils Minor scent kink Small masturbation scene (Vergil) Mating/Breeding kink (Possessive of the reader) Biting/Blood (Bleeding?) kink: Vergil bites hard enough to draw blood (he is a devil after all) then does some kind of painful stuff--it’s not very long or anything but I figured it is important to mention. Bruising + Scratching Minor Oral (blowjob; Reader receiving.) Monster fucker stuff; dick sleeve/slit stuff, etc. Devil Trigger sex Overstimulation Knotting 💧🦢💧 >Unrealistic sizes for his Triggered dick(s)--just let me have fun. If you want actual sizes, go to Vergil’s H/C chapter. >Because of the mental state Vergil’s in, he’s a bit sappy--almost reminiscent of V--during some parts. >I used the concept art from DMC 5 as a reference for Vergil’s (regular) Devil Trigger; figured I should put that here to avoid any confusion (since it’s very different from his 3-design and semi-different than his 4-design). Dante’s 5 DT has pupils so Vergil’s does too (even though the concept art doesn’t; neither does Dante’s concept art btw).

===

     “That is an idiotic suggestion,�� Vergil’s lip twitched as he lightly snarled, “Although I shouldn’t expect much else from you.”

     “Yeah? Well, if you’re so damned smart,” Dante crossed his arms as he leaned back in his chair, scowling at Vergil, “Then what’s your plan.”

     “I told you,” the blue devil squinted, “I can handle it alone.”

     Dante slammed his hands down on his desk and shot up from his chair, “And as I have told you ,” he rounded to the front of his desk, leaning against it slightly, and stood face-to-face with his older brother, “ No, you can’t. ” 

     The devils stared at one another, growling while exchanging death glares. Amongst the loud snarling, however, a stressed-out sigh could be heard. Lady, who had grabbed a beer, was trying to ignore the twins' incessant bickering. She's been waiting for over an hour for Nico and Trish to swing by and pick her up and she was almost at her breaking point. Quietly, she tapped her fingers against the half-drunk bottle while grumbling to herself. A part of her felt like she was babysitting two toddlers rather than sitting at the establishment of two middle-aged devil hunters. As she raised the bottle to take a drink, a loud commotion behind her caught her attention. Slamming down the bottle, she whipped around with a venomous glare.

     With hands wrapped around one another, the twins wrestled momentarily only to be cut abruptly by Vergil slamming Dante’s back through the railing and treads of the staircase. A loud strangled coughing came from Dante as one of the metal bars speared him through the chest, splattering Vergil’s face with a trace amount of blood. 

    “What is wrong with you two?!" Lady’s tolerance had finally run out, "I just fucking fixed yesterday's damage!” She stood from her seat, arms crossed.

     Hearing her irate tone, Vergil released Dante’s neck from his grasp and stood up; not saying a word. 

     Dante groaned, looking up at his twin, “Lil’ help?” He stuck out his hand which Vergil used to yank Dante back to his feet.

     Vergil straightened his coat, “I think I will take my leave for today-”

     “Good,” Dante shifted uncomfortably, placing a hand over the gaping hole in his middle, feeling it slowly repair itself, “Can’t stand you being so pissy.”

     Lady pinched the bridge of her nose, “You are no better, Dante. Both of you are acting like children.”

     “I am not,” Dante huffed.

     Vergil glared at his brother from the corner of his eye before strutting towards the garage door, “I am leaving,” he stopped after he was slightly past Lady and turned over to his shoulder, addressing her, "Contact me only if necessary.”

     With that, Vergil left The Devil May Cry.

==

     Upon opening the front door to your shared home, Vergil instantly felt a heavy hazy heat spread throughout his limbs. He took a slow deep breath as he stood in the entryway, trying to get a hold of himself. Unhurriedly, he hung his coat and slid off his boots, mumbling to himself about his next move. He decided that a shower may ease his mind as he wandered into the cozy co-inhabited home.

     The blue devil warily looked around, trying to avoid you. Eventually, he found you in the bedroom, making things difficult, since he needed to stop in there for clothing. He peered in through the door and saw that you were lying on your stomach, reading a book while softly humming. From where he was standing, he got a perfect view of your ass, only worsening his issue . 

     Vergil shook his head and took a deep breath trying to deter his thoughts; only after which did he realize that getting a deep whiff of your scent was perhaps the worst thing he could do at the moment. He stood with a scrunched face and closed eyes as he tried to ground himself, doing his best to ignore the overwhelming perverse thoughts eating at him, and the fiery feeling spreading to his lower half.

     You turned over and sat at the edge of the bed, dangling your legs over the edge, “Hey-! You’re home early,” you flashed him a cheerful smile that quickly fell as you got nothing but silence in return, “Everything alright, Vergil?” 

     “Yes, everything is fine,” Vergil’s eyes avoided yours and his answer was quick and emotionless.

     You raised a brow at his seemingly discombobulated reaction, “You sure?”

     He nodded and moved to grab some casual clothing from the dresser, “I am going to shower.”

     Your brow raised further, “Okay..?”

     Vergil looked over to you as if he were going to speak but closed his mouth, turned away from you, and left.

     In the brief moments that your eyes met with his, you noticed the small bits of dried blood on his clothes and face. It was probably Dante’s, knowing how much the two had been fighting the past week or so; however, that didn’t make it any better nor did it ease your mind. You slid off the bed, and placed the book on the nightstand, leaving the room. Unhurriedly, you meandered down the hall as you mulled through what could have upset Vergil so much. 

     As of late, he's been in such a sour mood that he barely even says "Good morning" or "Good night", not to mention the lack of physical affection. He hasn't even been sleeping in the bedroom with you, "preferring” to sleep on the couch. A frown decorated your face as a wicked thought echoed in your mind, "What if he is distancing himself so he can disappear…"

     You shook your head, "He'd never do that, he loves me... Right?"

     With another shake of your head, you decided that you were going to talk with him once he's finished his shower.

     When Vergil entered the restroom, he lazily tossed his change of clothes off to the side and turned the shower faucet as cold as he could. While the water ran, he stripped down and neatly placed his worn clothing in the hamper.

     Just being in your presence had made him unbearably hard and was driving him up the wall. It seems even the Dark Slayer isn’t able to conquer his instincts, much to his vexation. 

     A quiet hiss left his lips as he stepped under the icy water. Vergil’s skin was beyond sweltering, being so hot that it was bothering him; a man whose body runs on average at around 120°F (49°C). The contrast between him and the nearly frozen water created a sauna-esc environment--fog quickly filling the room. As he washed his face off, he stared mindlessly at the wall. He’d never experienced something like this before; and, to be quite frank, it's exhausting. The sheer amount of emotional ups and downs was enough to make him nauseous. Not to mention that he’d been avoiding any sort of affection towards or with you for nearly a week.

     It all mixed up into a hellish disaster that Vergil just wanted to end. Tired of the immense toll this was taking on him, in every way possible.

     With folded arms, he stood facing the water as a small discontent grumble left his lips. He had hoped that the cold water would have killed his hard-on; however, it didn’t. Now he was just miserably standing under frigid water with a rigid cock. 

     Vergil let out a low growl of irritation, his face scrunching into a grimace as he lightly pinched the bridge of his nose. Despite not being one for masturbation, he decided to try and handle his urges alone. He ran his hands up his face and then slowly back down, sighing loudly. Then he turned around and leaned his forehead against the wall, the water now beating against his back; a feeling that would have most definitely troubled him if he weren’t so worked up. 

     His brow furrowed as he shut his eyes, placing one hand on the wall and the other around his throbbing dick. Slowly, his hand moved at the thought of what he’d do to you if only you were here harshly pinned between the wall and him. 

     The feeling of you squirming underneath him as he bit down on your neck. Your groans as he shoves himself inside your tight hole. The feeling of your hands in his hair, pulling it in ecstasy. How deep and hard he would pound your insides. Growling obscene and perverse comments into your ear and watching you react; feeling you react. Folding you as he bent your legs up as far as he could, his nails digging into your skin. 

     Vergil wanted nothing more than to claim you --to breed you --to leave you unable to move and full to the brim with his cum.

     The blue devil’s face scrunched further with every quickening stroke, trying to reach his peak, “Ngh- ha~” A frustrated whine of a huff escaped his nose as he bit down on his lip.

     Unknowingly, he started bucking his hips into his hand in pursuit of the tantalizingly close orgasm. However, try as he may, it never came; all he managed to do was work himself up even further and nearly break his fingers from how hard he was pressing against the tiles.

     After what seemed like an eternity, he removed his hand from his cock and just stood there with his eyes closed. He placed his face against his bicep with a deep exasperated inhale, trying to figure out a solution that wouldn’t involve him explaining what was happening. 

     A soft knock at the door caused Vergil to choke on his exhale, “Vergil, you alright? You’ve been in there for over an hour…”

     Although you didn’t care how long he took, it was a bit concerning when his longest shower ever was fifteen minutes . In combination with how he was earlier, you were well within your right to worry. 

     He felt his cock twitch at the sound of your voice as he ran his thumb across his tip, doing his best to subvert the idea of asking you to join him, “I am fine,” he straightened his posture with a small sigh, “I will be out momentarily.”

     The blue devil waited to hear you walk away before he turned off the water and stepped out. He dried off and slid on his black boxer briefs and an indigo t-shirt. Then, as per usual, he went to pomade his hair but found his tin completely exhausted. Vergil balled up his hands, his nails lightly puncturing his palms in anger. In his heated departure from the shop, he had completely forgotten to pick some up before returning home. In a vain attempt at normalcy, he used the dampness from the shower to slick it back. 

     Then the real issue became apparent. He needed to figure out how to hide his excitement . The blue devil mulled over different ideas as he moved his jaw back and forth. It was then that he noticed he, unintentionally, grabbed a baggy set of grey sweatpants; ones that would be able to hide most of his painfully aching flesh if he wore them just right and tucked himself in a very specific way. 

     After a few attempts, he managed to get it right and looked at himself in the mirror; it was barely noticeable, allowing him to take a sigh of relief. As he opened the door, he was able to place where you were in the house by the sound of your heart, you were in the living room. Knowing that if he saw you he’d lose the struggle with himself, he quickly slipped into his study; which was right between the bathroom and bedroom.

     The Dark Slayer quietly shut the door and turned on a desk lamp. The room wasn’t anything too elaborate or fancy; it only contained three bookshelves, a small desk, and Vergil’s favorite chair. The blue devil grabbed his current book from the desk and sat down, making the plastic ever-so-slightly creak underneath him. With the lick of his fingertips, Vergil paged through to where he had left off in the novel. 

     After nearly ten minutes of re-reading the same page over and over, Vergil slammed the book shut with a growl. At this point, his body was beyond burning with lust and he wanted nothing more than to soothe his pulsating cock. Moving his jaw in thought, he debated trying to relieve his itch again; however, before he could decide, a gentle knock came from the door.

     “Vergil..?” your voice was barely audible.

     In a panic, Vergil snapped back, “What?” He scrunched his face and pursed his lips in immediate regret at how he answered. 

     There was a moment of silence before he heard you sigh, “Never mind, sorry; didn’t mean to bother you. I’ll leave you be.” 

     As you began to walk away, Vergil bolted up from his seat; upsetting you was the last thing he wanted to do. Opening the door as quickly as possible, he called out to you, “Wait-!” 

     You turned around; only a dozen or so strides away. With a brow raised in curiosity, you noted how disheveled Vergil looked: between his outfit, hair, and how overall ragged he looked you knew something was wrong. The two of you stood staring at one another for a minute or so; neither of you being sure what to say or do next. 

     The blue devil turned from your gaze to look down, shifting awkwardly, “I…” he stood with his lips slightly parted and shifted once more.

     You took a few steps towards him, “Is something wrong, Vergil?” 

     He shook his head ‘no’ and tensed his shoulders, “Stay back,” although he intended it to sound commanding, it sounded more like he was pleading.

     Your brow creased, “Why?” 

     That was the million-dollar question, wasn’t it? 

     The intense aching in his body only worsened by being near you, he scrunched his face trying to block out his insatiable yearning for you, “I can’t-” Vergil looked up from the flooring to you as he spoke softly, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

     “What does that-” you shook your head, “Vergil, what is going on?” You continued to steadily and carefully approach the high-strung man. 

     With every step you took, his body tensed up further and further. Part of him wanted to run as far from you as possible, ashamed and afraid of his need; the other wanted nothing more than to slam you against the floor and let into his sinful primal desires. He closed his eyes and took a deep steading breath; doing neither of those things--unintentionally allowing you to get closer.

     You stood only two or so strides away and were able to hear a faint growling, “My Love?” When you went to grab his hand, his eyes snapped open.

     Vergil jolted backward and hit the still-open study door that was behind him… which broke it right off its hinges with a loud cracking thud. You flinched at the sudden loud noise and pulled your hand back.

     He turned to his side slightly to look down at the broken door, “Fantastic…” he then turned back to you with a sigh, “Forgive me, I-”

     That’s when he noticed where you were staring at his body.

     You squinted and pursed your lips, doing your best to stifle a small laugh, “Is your weird mood cause of that ?” You gestured with your eyes down to his painfully obvious hard-on.

     Vergil shifted his jaw and huffed out a meek answer, “It is more than that, I am afraid.”

     “Care to share?” you set a hand on your hip and smirked, very much oblivious to the severity of what was going on.

     The blue devil shook his head, “No-” A shiver ran up his spine as he watched you slowly and intensely eye him up, “You’re not going to like the answer.”

     “Vergil, we’ve slept together quite a bit,” you gently grabbed one of his hands, “What is so different now?”

     His voice was strained as he gripped your hand tightly and paused a moment for a moment before continuing, “This is out of my control.”

     “What? Vergil,” you furrowed your brow in confusion, “What does that mean?”

     He opened his eyes and stared at you momentarily, using his tongue to play with his teeth in thought. 

     “Don’t make me beg,” you lightly teased.

     “Fine,” Vergil pushed you against the wall, a knee placed right between your legs, and holding both your hands off to your sides, “I want you,” he leaned closer, his breath tickling your ear, “I need to--” he paused for a moment in thought, “I need to breed you,” behind his voice you could hear a rumble, telling you how desperate he really is. 

     He placed small kisses along your jawline and pulled back to look you in the eyes, pleading with you to save him from this torment of self-restraint he has been going through for nearly a week now. 

     You raised a brow, “And how’s that any different than normal?” You gave him a suggestive sultry smirk. 

      He cautiously placed his lips atop yours; despite his current affliction, he wanted to make sure that he took things slow--at least, slow enough that he wouldn’t hurt you. The kisses were long, heated, and sloppy. The both of you moved your mouths together in an almost exaggerated manner, perfectly synchronized. Vergil pushed against you and a low rumble filled each of his motions; doing his best to show you how much he needs you. How much he desires you in your entirety; mind, spirit, and body. How much he wishes to consume your frail humanity and turn you into his sinful plaything. 

     The blue devil’s grip tightened around your wrists as he fought his urge to demolish you right here and now. The heat from his body was overwhelming. Both he and you were acutely aware of it, a very thin line of sweat adorning the two of you. Vergil pushed his leg up further between your legs, lovingly nudging your slowly growing arousal, listening to the faint groans you gave.

     After a few minutes of these slow impassioned kisses, he slid his tongue into your mouth. Excitedly he explored every bit that he could. Though Vergil had tasted your sweet tongue many times before, he always had the same amount of giddiness as he did the first time. His growling had become prominent enough that you could feel it within your mouth; a new, but welcomed, feeling. 

     With a gentle roughness, Vergil bit at your lips and tugged on them, which you lovingly returned. A small smirk decorated his lips as he let out a happy huff against you before diving into another plethora of fiery lustful kisses. With each languid motion of his plush lips against yours, his grip tightened around your wrists; gradually losing the arousing factor and becoming painful--you weren’t even sure if he realized that he was doing it.

     Breaking away from his lips for a brief moment, you let out a low hiss, “Vergil, that kind of hurts,” you squirmed against his hold. 

     He stood there with his forehead against yours, loosening his grip slightly. With a low husky growl of a voice, he whispered against your kiss-swollen lips, “I need more,” he nuzzled his nose against yours, “Please.” His eyes met with yours, they were heavy and glazed over; he wasn’t asking you, he was begging .

     “Just--” You did your best to stay calm, knowing that Vergil was far from it, “Give me a minute to get ready and I’m all yours..?” 

     A small displeased grumble left his lips before he bit at your lower lip, pulling it slowly, then whispered against you, “You’d best hurry,” he released his grip on your wrists, “Best not to keep me waiting,” he turned and walked towards the bedroom, leaving you in a confused light-headed daze.

     Once within the bedroom, he grabbed the nearly empty lube from the side table and set it on the tabletop. Absent-mindedly, he began to tap his foot, doing his best to ignore his slowly thinning patience. Vergil was still rather uneasy about informing you about what was truly going on. The two of you had been romantically involved for many years now, but it was only within the past year that the two of you had become sexually involved. In hindsight, Vergil regrets not explaining the consequences of doing so.

     The consequences of mating with a devil.

     A nearly inaudible creak in the floorboards caught Vergil’s attention, pulling him from his thoughts. Instantly, the blue devil was upon you and was as close to you as possible, his lips connected with yours once again. With a startled moan, you grabbed his biceps and felt him dig his fingertips into your sides as he tried to pull you impossibly close. 

     Not giving you a chance to think, Vergil moved you over to the bed and had you pinned beneath him. Using one of his hands, he held both of yours above your head as he stared down at you. He placed his free hand on your cheek, thumbing over your skin slowly, a small smirk tugging at his lips. 

     The blue devil’s hand drifted down your neck and to your chest, “I am sorry for this.”

     “For what?” You tilted your head.

     Without answering, Vergil leaned down and bit down on your neck. A sharp pain caused you to flinch and let out a low groan. He’d pierced through your skin and was working his teeth further into your flesh. It was uncommon for Vergil to make marks where others would be able to see them, but he never has drawn blood or bitten you this hard before. An uneasy feeling pricked at the edges of your mind--the unnerving feeling of being a devil’s prey.

     Once Vergil felt the mark was dark enough, he leaned back up as he licked his lips and teeth clean of your blood. Your eyes met with his and Vergil had a crazed stare that sent cold shivers down your spine, it was a feral dominant look that only worsened the growing bad feeling in your gut. He moved to the other side of your neck and gave it the same treatment; puncturing your flesh deeply.  

     You let out a sharp moan as you felt him remove his teeth and give the new mark small loving licks. Curious as to how’d you respond, he took one of the tips of his split tongue and pushed it into one of the teeth holes. With pursed lips, your brow scrunched and you pulled away from the feeling; however, Vergil wasn’t done. He quickly placed another bite atop the same spot, moving ever-so-slightly out of line with the already there divots. The blue devil was enjoying the iron taste of the thick red substance and he wanted to taste you more; perhaps a side effect of him being the only Sparda descendant to consume human blood in mass? 

     With a third bite to the same spot, you finally spat out a whimper; one that wasn’t of pleasure. However, the devil didn’t notice and clenched his jaw harder at your struggling. 

     “Vergil, stop-!” You jerked away from him with a voice that was somewhere between angry and frightened--not a hint of enjoyment in earshot.

     It took him a moment to react, removing his teeth with a low faintly animalistic huff. The blue devil leaned up and looked down at you, watching you writhe at the painful feeling, assessing the situation. A prominent red stain had adorned his lips, teeth, and surrounding skin; he looked as if he were truly attempting to eat you. A few tears pricked at the edges of your eyes which caused him to look away, almost shameful. 

     “Vergil?”

     He released your hands and sat still, looking like a kicked puppy. 

     You leaned up and gently placed a hand on the side of his jaw, turning him to face you. Vergil’s eyes were glazed over and his lips slightly parted, still very obviously aroused but hesitant to continue. You ran a thumb along his lower lip, wiping blood off the stained surface. Slowly, you connected with his lips. 

     With a loving force, you pushed your lips hard against him and moved your hand from his jaw to the side of his neck, firmly holding him. Using your other hand, you grabbed a fist full of his shirt and pulled him into you. All the while, you’d pushed your tongue into his mouth which earned a surprised muffled moan from Vergil. 

     His mouth tasted, unsurprisingly, of blood and was broiling hot. Vergil worked himself into your grove, moving along to the rhythm you were setting; a rarity in your relationship. You moved your hand up from his neck and interweaved your fingers with his hair, grasping the strands tightly. A small amount of pride pricked at the edges of your mind as you heard him let out a low unfiltered moan and felt him tremble under your grasp. This, however, didn’t last long. 

     Unwilling to remain submissive, Vergil pushed you downwards again. Mindlessly his kisses began to wander around your skin placing small kisses along your clothed shoulders and chest. In return, you gently groped at his shoulders and arms, earning a low moan from your devilish lover. 

     You noticed that he was still wet from his shower as you ran your hands under his shirt giving his skin a soft smooth feel. Your fingertips flattened against his pecs, kneading against him. Slowly, you made your way over to his nipples and pinched them tightly. His back arched slightly at the feeling and he let out a low breathy moan.

     However, the blue devil’s hands weren’t stationary and had begun to move, drifting downwards. They rested right at the edge of your shirt for a moment as he felt you grope his chest. Then, bit by bit, he slid his hands underneath your shirt. Taking the hint, you removed your hands from him and pulled the fabric over your head, tossing it somewhere in the room.

     The blue devil’s slender fingers groped along your chest, seeming almost desperate to feel your body. Your hands grabbed the edge of his shirt and began to tug at it. Vergil leaned up and pulled his shirt over his head, looking down at you with slightly labored breathing. 

     In all his years of life, in neither Hell nor the human world, has he ever had he found another so captivating as you are. Even during times like these, times of sinful lust, you still managed to look holy to the tarnished devil; a sacred being that he’d gladly become a martyr over, someone he’d give his life up for. Despite his irritation at his current affliction, he can’t help but be glad that it is with you and that he found someone he wants to spend the rest of his life with.

     As he stared, you stared back. 

     A small amount of pride tugged at your heart at how you’d managed to get someone like Vergil, someone so beautiful. Your eyes focused on his partially agape kiss-swollen lips that he’d roll his tongue over moistening them every so often. His hair was down courtesy of the lack of pomade and clung to the still-wet skin of his brow, giving him a rather ragged look. Despite Dante being his twin, the two looked nothing alike in your eyes--even with the same hairstyle. Slowly your gaze traveled to his half-lidded eyes when you noticed something; his eyes were the icy glowing blue of his Devil Trigger. 

     You wriggled to sit upright, “You’re quite worked up, huh?” With a smile, you watched Vergil’s face become red and you placed a hand on the side of his neck, thumbing over his throat softly.

     “Why do you say that?” his voice quivered a bit as he felt your hand slowly move down from his neckline to his hips.

     “You’re acting… strange ,” you ran your hand close to his bulge, purposely missing it, and rested your hand on his thigh.

     He gave you a half-confused half-disappointed look.

     “Not that I don’t find this…” you gently rubbed his thigh, earning a stifled moan from the devil, “ aggressively dominant side of you alluring.”

     “Do you?” he smirked slightly, “How strange…” Vergil leaned in and gave you small pecking kisses.

     You smiled widely and spoke between kisses, “Care to share what the special occasion is?” 

     Vergil quietly chuckled and murmured against your lips, “In time.”

     Between loud sweet pecks, you gently whispered, “Come on, please Vergil?”

     Instead of answering, he gave you a long kiss; one that only broke once he felt you pushing away for air. Vergil’s fingers gently ghosted the three-times-bitten dark spot he’d left on your neck, staring with concern.

     Noticing his upset attitude, you grabbed his hand and brought it to your lips, kissing his knuckles.

     “Does it… hurt ?” His voice was soft, with a small tinge of sadness.

     “You want me to be honest?” 

     He nodded.

     “Yes, it hurts, but-!” You made sure to cut him off, knowing damn well what he was going to say, “It’s fine and it’ll heal,” you ran soft kisses up from the hand you’d been kissing and to his shoulder, resting there for a moment, “It’s alright.”

     “I am sorry for harming you,” he looked to the side, his eyes meeting with yours, “I didn’t think that I…” His voice cracked as gazed upon you with remorse.

     You leaned up from his skin and looked at him with a soft smile, “Don’t worry about it, Vergil…” With a soft sigh, you leaned forward and placed a soft gentle long kiss on the underside of his jaw, “It’s flattering to know that you want me that badly, dear.”

     Vergil pushed you back downwards, straddling your hips. His fingertips pressed into you as he eyed you up and down and, with a low dark desperate tone, he remarked, “That doesn’t even scratch the surface of how I feel right now.” 

     As he began to run his digits down your body, he leaned down and placed a very soft kiss on the tender spot. Bit by bit Vergil began to kiss down your middle, mumbling very softly against you, “ “The Fountains mingle with the river/And the rivers with the ocean,/The winds of heaven mix for ever,/With a sweet emotion;/Nothing in the world is single,/”,” he stopped right above your navel and lightly bit at the skin, staring up at you and locking with your eyes, “All things by a law devine/In one another's being mingle -/Why not I with thine?”.”

     He continued until his head was between your thighs. You propped yourself up on your elbows and saw that he was already staring back at you. With hot and heavy breaths, he kissed the inside of one of your thighs all the way to your dick, then gave the other thigh the same treatment. 

     “Vergil-” You swallowed apprehensively, “Are you sure that you’re alright to be doing--”

     “I won’t harm you,” he gave you a small smile with half-lidded eyes, “I promise,” his breath was heavy as he brushed his cheek and nose along your bulge, speaking in a quiet needy manner, “Let me taste you, please.”

     Your breath caught in your throat as you tried to keep up with the sudden mood change; Vergil going from overly dominant to an almost submissive pleading. Before you even answered him, his fingers were within your waistband and were pulling at the fabric, completely exposing you to him. A small moan left your lips as you felt him kiss along the insides of your thighs once more. They were slow sloppy kisses, licking and biting at the sensitive skin. 

     Vergil stared at you for a moment, a smirk of pride tugging at his lips from how you were watching him with bated breath. Very unhurriedly, he ran his tongue down from your tip to your balls. As he ran back up, he split his tongue apart and slid your cock between the two sides. Encouraged by your low groans, he did the same motion back down. 

     Carefully he took your sack into his mouth and began to lightly suck on it. Instinctively, you placed a hand in his hair and grabbed it harshly, making the blue devil moan lowly. As he released you from his mouth, he made sure to stick his tongue out and run it up your seam. 

     Your fingers tightened as you let out a groan and a quiet call of his name. 

     Returning to your shaft, he placed kisses along the underside of your dick upward. Once at the top, he licked at your slit and watched as you squirm at his motions. With a heavy breath, Vergil placed his lips around your cock and gradually took you into his mouth. His hands found purchase on your hips and he pulled you as close to him as possible, the tip of his nose touching your lower abdomen. You fully leaned up, to get a better view of him, and placed both your hands in his hair as he bobbed up and down at a moderate pace.

     “Vergil~ fuck that feels good,” you groaned as he began to move faster at your words. 

     He smirked in response. Although he’d never admit it, he enjoys hearing you say he’s doing good; that he’s the reason you feel good. However, unlike normal, he wasn’t planning on bringing you to your peak; instead, he removed himself from your dick and stood up. The two of you shared a long heated kiss that he used to lean you back down, then he pulled back.

     “Turn over,” his voice was low and gravely, palming himself at the sight before him. 

     With a small nod and smirk, you did as you were asked. You could hear Vergil shuffling around before feeling him rejoin you on the bed with his hands kneading against your ass. Although his motions weren’t particularly aggressive, the pressure he was using was extreme and was going to undoubtedly leave bruises. If you listened very closely, you could hear him purring behind his growling. 

     You let out a small laugh, “You’re quite pent up, huh?”

     He momentarily paused, his hands still gripping you, “You could say that, yes,” before you could respond, you felt him dig his fingers harder into you, “May I?”

     With a smile, you turned over your shoulder to him, “How cordial,” you softly laughed, “Go ahead, I’m all yours Vergil.”

     Once he let go of your butt, Vergil smirked slightly at the sight of you lifting your hips up a bit. He was almost tempted to skip prepping you but he bit his lip; he can’t have you getting hurt, he needs you to be available for him. After lubing up his fingers, he slowly slid the first digit inside. 

     Taking a deep breath, you did your best to relax into his hand. Vergil shifted so he could kiss you while continuing to stretch you. He placed several gentle pecks along your neck and your jaw, a rather loud purr coming from deep within his chest. 

     As he slid a second finger inside you, he heavily laid his head on the crook of your shoulder and began to give the area small heated kisses. You let out a small moan and turned towards him, kissing the top of his head. A smile tugged at your lips as you felt him let out a low happy sigh, his lips just barely hovering over your skin. 

     Another stifled moan came from you as he began to curl his fingers and return to kissing your neck, slightly nipping at it as he traveled along your neck and shoulder. 

     Quietly, as if afraid to speak, Vergil whispered between kisses, “I love you, my delicate little Lily.”

     With a soft laugh, you looked at him, “That’s new-- “Lily”..?”

     He chuckled, seemingly embarrassed, “Yes, I thought it appropriate. Do- do you not like it?” 

     “I don’t mind; just curious as to- ngh-” You groaned as you felt Vergil add a third finger.

     “As to what, my love?” A cocky smug smirk tugged at his lips.

     “Why did you th-think,” you closed your eyes and bit your lip, doing your best to hold back a moan, “to use it now?”

     Vergil hummed in thought for a moment, making sure to keep his lips close enough to your skin that you could feel his lips vibrate--sending a shiver through you, “Because you remind me of such…” He removed his fingers and leaned up, “You are so very fragile-- so very breakable; and yet,” a chill ran up your spine as you felt Vergil run his nails from your shoulder blades down to your hips, leaving a minor scratched trail down your body, “you allow me to taint your beauty --to toy with your naive innocent humanity….” 

     His hands rested on your ass momentarily, letting out a low sigh, before fully removing his hands. 

     With a gravelly sensual tone, he continued, “Do you want to know why I want you so badly, Dearest?”

     Hearing him shuffling around slightly, you nodded as a small amount of butterflies began to form in your gut.

     The blue devil laid down over you, getting as close to your ear as possible, “Because you are mine-- my human plaything; do you understand?”

     Against your lower back, you could feel his cock twitching and could feel how unbearably hot his skin had become. You swallowed hard, “I’m not sure I do.”

     Vergil placed his forehead between your shoulder blades. He used one hand to prop himself up and the other was around his dick, stroking it slightly, as he whispered, “You are bound to me; in both heart, soul, and body .”

     Without allowing you to respond, he prodded at your hole with his tip and slowly began to inch his way inside. A loud moan left your lips as you did your best to relax into him; feeling each bit of him that entered your body. 

     “You are my mate,” once fully seated inside you, he returned to your ear, “My one and only,” the blue devil kissed your ear, then gently bit and tugged at it, “for the rest of eternity.”

     He sat back up with hands now placed on both sides of your hips. In response you picked your ass up, creating a downward dog position. 

     It started slow and controlled. He’d only pull out an inch or two and very carefully push himself back in, not wanting to harm you. However, these gentle motions didn’t last very long. Vergil did try his best to control himself; biting his lip, gripping onto you (unintentionally bruising you yet again), et cetera, but it didn’t work. 

     Vergil pulled his dick out, leaving just the very tip of it inside you, and rammed into you. It was hard enough that you jolted forward and let out a moan that was somewhere between pleased and startled. He repeated this motion but picked up the pace with each jab. Soon enough, all that could be heard throughout the house was the sound of his balls hitting your skin and your moans of bliss. Vergil wrapped his hand around the front of your neck and pulled you upwards, bringing you into a kneeling position.

     Now using quick shorter thrusts he wrapped his arms around your middle, holding you flush against his body. A small amount of drool left the corner of your mouth as your vision became blurry, completely engulfed with the feeling of Vergil inside you. Mindlessly, you laid your head against the top of his shoulder which gave him plenty of room to bite and suck at your neck. One of your hands found its way to his hair, grabbing it tightly, and your other was neatly interwoven with a hand from your devilish lover. Your grip tightened on his hand as you moved your hips, doing your best to complement Vergil’s pattern. 

     This pose didn’t last very long. Vergil roughly shoved you back down and stood up, pulling out completely. Before you could question, you felt him harshly yank you over onto your back. Now facing upwards at the disheveled man, you got a proper view of him and you noticed several things that were just ever-so-slightly off. His teeth were much sharper and slightly thicker. A finite amount of scales had appeared on his cheekbones. The glowing icy blue eye color that you’d noticed earlier, was even more apparent and had heavily dilated pupils in the middle that were intensely trained on you. 

     You placed a hand on his cheek, very carefully thumbing over the black-blue scales. He leaned into your touch, his eyes closed tightly, and gave your palm a long kiss, momentarily staying with lips pressed against your hand. An unintentional confused 'huh?' left your lips at how hot his breath and mouth were, he was scorching; the hottest you’ve ever felt from him. Slowly, he opened his eyes and leaned back up. 

     The blue devil slid off the bed and pulled you to the edge then put his tip back inside only to slam as hard as possible into your hips. 

     “Fuck~ Vergil,” you arched your back and wrapped your legs around his hips.

     With a smirk, he repeated the action and created a pattern of extremely hard and moderately forceful thrusts that he switched between every four or five thrusts. Vergil looked down at you with a devilish smile, reveling in how undone he made you. Getting an insurmountable amount of arousing pleasure from the sounds of unintelligible gibberish moaning coming from you. The sight of your body being moved by just the force of his jabs. All he wanted to do was feel your insides even more, to reach as far as he could inside and claim every bit of you.

     He grabbed your legs and pulled them up, resting them on his shoulders. The feeling of sinful pride he had only increased as he heard you call his name and saw your hands grabbing the sheets tightly. He slowed his hips for a moment, still maintaining the force of each thrust but trying to prevent himself from making a mistake and Triggering.

     Vergil’s hands slid from your calves to your thighs, firmly kneading against your skin--his fingertips being imprinted into your skin with dark marks. A very distant dark part of him wanted to eat you, to bite your flesh --to mar it up --to cover you with his scent --to make sure you know exactly which devil you belong to. He licked his lips as he let out low heavy breaths from his partially opened mouth. Feeling his peak coming, he looked up at the ceiling as his thrusts became shorter and his pace picked up, moving faster than before.

     Typically, he wouldn’t finish this fast but he couldn’t help himself. All he’s wanted to do for nearly a week is just fill your insides, and he was going to do just that. Vergil shifted slightly, making sure to hit your prostate with each gyration. 

     He let out a loud growling moan, cumming inside you. Only a few moments later did you call out with a sharp moan as you felt an intense orgasm ripping through your body.

     Slowly, Vergil rode out both your orgasms. Gently, he removed your legs from his shoulders and pulled out of your body. You gazed into space for a moment before leaning up slightly to see Vergil, confused as to why he hadn’t said anything.

     You audibly swallowed as you stared at him, “Y-you’re that pent up, huh?”

     Vergil shamefully met your eyes. He was still hard and had scales on several other spots on his body. The thoughts of allowing himself to cut loose, to show you his inner urges without a filter made him both unfathomably terrified and overwhelmingly aroused. This was bad and he knew it, and seeing you so blissfully unaware of the danger you were in only tempted him further.

     “Vergil,” you sat up fully a small grunt leaving your lips at the dull pain from being slammed so hard, “You alright?”

     His lips thinned as he furrowed his brow, avoiding your gaze once more, “I am fine; however, I…” He paused, unable to finish his sentence.

     “We could try it out, you know,” you gave him a meek smile as his eyes flicked to yours.

     He shook his head ‘no’, “I can’t risk hurting you for something so trivial.”

     “This is obviously not ‘trivial’. You never have this issue-- not to mention how different you’ve been acting,” you reached out to grab one of his hands, “What’s wrong, Vergil? You can tell me; I promise I won’t judge or get upset.”

     The blue devil intently watched as you ran your thumb over his knuckles, “Fine…” He moved to sit beside you on the bed, staring straight ahead, “You know what an animal in “rut” means, correct?”

     You nodded, “Yeah,” your eyes thinned as you slowly turned to him, “Vergil, you don’t mean--?”

     “I should’ve told you before we…” he sighed with his shoulders tensing, “Because you and I became intimately involved, I now will go through this every spring,” he looked over to you, momentarily locking with your stare, “and you are the only one that can give me… relief .”

     With a slow nod and deep breath, your eyes flicked between his hard-on and his gaze, “Guess I didn’t provide enough “relief”, huh?”

     He gave you a small smile, “I’m afraid it’s not something that will be able to be soothed with only a round or two or even three, my love.”

     You moved your jaw in thought and stood up. Sighing softly, you moved Vergil’s arms off to his sides and sat on his lap. You placed one hand on his chest and used the other to push a strand of hair out of his eyes, resting the hand on his cheek afterward. A loud purring emanated from his chest, vibrating your fingers, as you stared softly into his icy-blue eyes, “I love you so much Vergil; you know that?”

     The blue devil smiled, “I do,” he leaned closer to you, placing his forehead against yours, speaking in a breathy whisper; his breath ghosting along your lips, “I love you as well; more than words could ever describe.”

     The two of you connected lips and the hand that was on Vergil’s chest slid up to his face; allowing you to cup it between your hands. Vergil took his hands and ran them down your sides and then settled to hold your lower back as he continued to give you sloppy sweet kisses, gently pushing his mouth against you. 

     Cautiously, Vergil bit at your lips to ask for permission to enter your mouth; which you accepted. He let out an unintentional elated moan at the feeling of your tongue with his. His fingertips dug into your skin, pressing and kneading against you in excitement. With a lustful aggressiveness, Vergil pushed you onto your back--down onto the floor of the bedroom. 

     Making sure to maintain the kiss, Vergil shifted the both of you around so he could line himself up with your hole. Slowly, he slid back inside and devoured each of the divine noises that you made in response. That thought made him growl slightly; he wants to defile you over and over, to hold you for as long as you will allow him to. 

     Only once he was fully within you did he break off the kiss and allow you to take a deep breath. He held himself up with his arms, looking down at your breathless form. A prideful smug smile tugged at his lips as he began to move slightly, grinding himself into you. It didn't take long for him to reach a moderate pace. You reached up and ran your hands along his body, feeling each divot, each curve, each soft and hard surface; taking notes to yourself as if you hadn’t ever been allowed to touch him before. His heart was pounding so fast that you could feel it no matter where your hands were.  

     The blue devil’s mind was reeling. He was so engrossed in how good you feel that he hadn’t noticed how hard he was slamming into you, pushing you along the floor with each pass of his hips. His growling had returned, albeit tenfold louder and a great deal more animalistic; completely replacing his moans. 

     Although you know Vergil has issues with you touching his back, you were too immersed in the moment and wrapped your arms around him. One of your hands found its way to the back of Vergil’s head, threading your fingers tightly into his hair. You did your best to try and wrap your legs around him too; hoping to prevent him from shoving you along the floor any further. 

     He did stop for a moment, only to take the opportunity to pick you up and slam you against one of the walls of the room; knocking several things from their hanging spots. A sharp moan left your lips as you felt his nails aggressively dig into the sides of your thighs. Vergil placed his mouth at the crook of your shoulder and nipped at the skin, leaving various marks. 

     You let out a slight hiss as he got a little too close to one of the deeper marks from earlier; in a way to seemingly apologize, he gently licked at your neck. He then leaned back and looked at you for a moment, letting out a set of shaky breaths. Vergil connected lips with you as you slid both hands into his hair; grabbing fistfuls of the silky white strands. His kisses were aggressive, pushing your head against the wall. Your body tensed, legs tightening around him, you were getting close--and so was he. 

     Quick jack-rabbit thrusts replaced his previous tempo. His wandering grip continued as he slammed your hips down into his, moving your body in a harsh rhythm with his. The two of you parted lips allowing you to throw your head back--at least the best you could being against a wall--and Vergil placed kisses on your windpipe. 

     The blue devil placed his head on your shoulder as he focused on fucking you. It didn’t take long for him to reach nirvana, spilling himself inside you with a low sustained frustrated growl. You reached your peak as well; cumming with a low grunt and gentle groan of Vergil’s name. 

     He ground against you and let out gentle shuddering breaths against your neck, giving you slight goosebumps. Without removing himself, he carried you back over to the bed and laid you down. Propped upwards using his hands, he stared down at you. Vergil was breathing heavily with a hung-open mouth and had a layer of sweat on his brow. More scales had appeared and his stare was oddly blank, as if he were lost in deep thought. You watched as he used his tongue to play with one of his canines and his brow twitched into a slightly agitated state. 

     “Vergil?” You weakly grabbed one of his biceps, giving it a light squeeze, “Is everything okay?”

     A set of quick blinks brought his eyes back into focus, accompanied by a shake of his head, “Yes, I am alright--sorry.”

     After a pause, he leaned up and gradually removed himself. A shiver ran up your spine at the feeling and you stared up at the ceiling for a moment before tilting up to look at the blue devil. 

     “Oh…” You gave him a dumbfounded stare. He was still hard, cock twitching at your surprise.

     Once you looked up at Vergil’s face, you saw that he had crossed his arms with one hand over his face; mortified and ashamed of what was happening. 

     With an awkward laugh, you took a deep breath, “So, how many rounds do you need, again?”

     Vergil’s eyes slowly met with yours as he shook his head, whispering, “I’m… unsure.”

     You scrunched your mouth to the side, “What about trying to use your “Trigger”? You seem even worse off than earlier, Vergil.”

     He removed his hand from his face and shot you a stern glance, “No, I can’t risk hurting you--”

     “Vergil, if you keep this up, you will hurt me,” you grunted in slight pain as you sat up fully, “I can only take so much,” you laughed slightly, placing a hand on the back of your neck, “Especially with how rough you’re being.”

     The blue devil thought for a moment, his tongue playing with his teeth. A part of him knew you were right, that if this continued there was a very high chance he would hurt you, and he really loved the idea of allowing himself to let go--to show you what he could really do. Still, the sheer amount of uncontrollable possibilities kept him hesitant. 

     What if you don’t like it and he’s too far gone to stop?

     What if he manhandles you too hard and breaks something--either something in the room or, more importantly, you? 

     What if he hit you against the wall or floor too hard and hurt you? 

     What if he bit you and couldn’t stop himself from sinking his teeth in too far?

      What if you died because of him and his stupid demonic instincts?

     “Vergil..?” 

     He flinched at your sudden closeness. You’d gotten up and were standing in front of him, concerned that he was standing silently for so long. With one hand on his bicep and the other cupping his face, you made small circles with your thumbs. His eyes fluttered shut and he leaned towards you, placing his forehead against yours.

     The two of you shared a very sweet and emotionally soft kiss, drawing it out for quite some time. 

     With lips just above his, you quietly pleaded, “You can do whatever you need to, Vergil; it’ll be okay.”

     Vergil swallowed hard. With one final squeeze of his arm, you let go of him. His eyes flicked all over your body as he gave it one final thought. Taking a deep breath, he nodded; he had to try it. 

     All he could hear was the loud pounding of his heart as he allowed himself to Trigger. Soft cornflower blue light filled the space. You smiled at the sight before you. It wasn’t very often you got to see Vergil use either of his Devil Triggers; his normal Trigger being a much rarer sight.

     Under his breath, he let out a soft chuckle at your doting stare. Although he’s never told you, he finds it amusing that you’re so enamored with his devilish forms. He unfurled his wings from his sides and mindlessly stretched them outwards before bringing them back in close to his body. Pride pricked at his heart as he saw your expression of such a trivial act.

     Cautiously, you approached him and reached out to touch his chest. This was the first time Vergil had allowed you to be anywhere near him while in a non-human state. His scales were hot to the touch, but not painfully more along the lines of freshly dried linen or hot asphalt. Through your fingers, you could feel a low rumble coming from within his chest.

     With a slight shake, Vergil placed a hand over yours and locked eyes with you. Uneven breaths left his lips as he waited for you to say something-- anything. 

     You smiled softly and inched closer, placing your head on his chest, “You are so beautiful, you know that?”

     A noise somewhere between a scoff and a laugh left his nose, “That’s not what one should say when face-to-face with a devil.” Vergil wrapped his arms loosely around you. 

     “I’m not just face-to-face with “ a devil”,” you smiled wider and looked up at him, “I’m face-to-face with m-my…” you stumbled over your words as an embarrassed shade spread across your face, your confidence quickly dissipating.

     “Your what?” He tilted his head in curiosity, wanting nothing more than to hear you say it.

     With a voice no louder than a whisper you looked away from his eyes, “with my mate.”

     He stared with parted lips before giving a small smile, “How strange to hear you say that,” Vergil leaned down to you, whispering, “Are you sure this is alright?”

     Without answering, you connected your lips to his. Your hands slid up to the base of his neck on either side, gently scraping your nails on his scales as you went along. His arms tightened to pull you closer, placing one at the small of your back and the other on your ass. Slow careful kisses turned to sloppy impassioned French kisses. Vergil's tongue desperately felt the inside of your mouth, now being able to reach even further inside. You let out a surprised grunt at the feeling but were quickly distracted by a harsh groping motion against your ass. 

     Once you broke apart, the two of you stood staring at one another. Curious as to what he’d do, you ran your hands slowly down his torso. The heat coming from his body was unbelievable but his lower abdomen was tenfold worse. Distantly you found yourself worried if his cock would be too hot for your body to take in. As your fingers worked their way down, you took note of the texture changes between his chest, stomach, and the bright blue V that pointed to where you were headed. 

     Gently, you rubbed your fingertips up and down the glowing area, earning a stifled groan from Vergil. Curiously enough, you were expecting the area to feel akin to the rest of his scales--hard and rough--but were greeted by a warm velvety silk feeling. As you kneaded against him, he pulled you into another set of passionate kisses. The hand from your lower back traveled up your spine and braced the back of your neck, pulling you as close to him as possible. 

     Mindlessly, he leaned forward and dipped you back slightly. He broke from your mouth and kissed the corner of your mouth. Bit by bit, he kissed along your jawline, to your neck, and finally your throat. All the while, your fingers continued to their original destination. Carefully, you teased the area around his still-hidden cock and lightly ran your middle finger along his slit. Vergil’s breath hitched and he stopped his kisses, his breath washing over your skin. 

     A sultry smirk tugged at your mouth as you felt his tip begin to emerge. Vergil’s wings uncontrollably flexed outwards at the odd feeling, much to the blue devil’s surprise--and slight dismay. He’d never thought about trying anything even remotely sexual while like this, so the feeling of your fingers kneading against him made him feel as if he were a virgin again; feeling overwhelmed by nothing but the slightest of your touches. 

     You slowly ran his tip between your fore and middle fingers, feeling pre-cum dripping onto your digits. His cock was pleasantly warmer than normal, eliciting a small groan from you as you thought about him being inside you. The cum that decorated your fingers was also hotter than normal and seemed to be much thicker. The blue devil took a deep breath and shifted slightly, his wings curling around the two of you. In an almost painfully slow motion, Vergil ran his tongue along your neck, small papillae scrapping the sensitive area. He let out a shaky breath as you stroked along the sheath where his cock was, making his cock appear much faster than intended. 

     Before you managed to have him fully out, Vergil picked you up and placed you onto the mattress. He placed both his hands beside either side of your head, still standing, and his wings outstretched behind him. You stared up at him as a small shiver ran up your spine at the sight. Vergil’s eyes were dilated heavily and were fixated on yours. A part of you knows you should be afraid or at least apprehensive about what is happening, but you couldn’t be bothered; you were much too invested in the moment. 

     A wicked grin adorned his face, teeth on full display,  “You really want me, don’t you?”

     “And if I do?”

     “Hmph,” the blue devil leaned back up and pulled your hips to the edge of the bed. 

     With slow long pumps, he touched himself to the sight of you. However, when you tried to lean up to see, he quickly pushed you flat. 

     “Did I tell you to move?” His voice was utterly layered with an overwhelming dominance.

     Your gut churned and twisted as you waited with bated breath for him to ram your body, except, the blue devil knew he had to be careful with you. Although it was seen as a dominating move, Vergil laying you back was done to keep you calm. If you’d seen him fully erect, you would’ve tensed up tenfold worse and this would’ve been much more difficult than it already will be. 

     He grabbed the lube from the nearby table and coated his cock. Whatever excess was on his hand, he very carefully put it at your entrance--making sure his claws didn’t knick you. After a small debate, he dragged you a bit closer and put your ankles on his shoulders, aligning himself with your hole. 

     “Relax,” he placed a hand on your stomach, skin dipping down slightly from the tips of his claws, “Just focus on your breathing.”

     You pursed your lips and stared mindlessly at the ceiling, doing just as he said and taking deep calm breaths, trying to keep yourself from tensing. 

     Vergil pushed his tip in, earning a gasp and deep grunting moan from you. Bit by bit, he continued to push inside, doing his best to fight the urge to slam against you. You were gripping the bed, pulling on the already decimated sheets. The size of Vergil’s cock normally is something that would make most men green with envy but the size he was working with now was nothing short of “porn star” material. 

     His hand that was on your gut slid up to your chest as he leaned down into you, causing him to push inside quicker than intended. Doing his best to not cut you with his claws, Vergil groped at your pecs and lightly kneaded against you. Low in his chest, he was emitting a purr that was intense enough that you could feel it through his hand. 

     After what seemed like an eternity, he was fully seated within you. Heavy deep lust laden breaths left your agape lips as the blue devil closed his eyes, focusing on the feeling of your innards snuggly squeezing around him. Vergil could feel your rapid heartbeat and could practically taste your arousal; being able to smell human pheromones just like a human can a fresh baked bread, sometimes being strong enough to give a taste to the air. It made his body ache, giving him a strong sense of pride to know that you were just as madly into him as he is you.

     You placed a hand atop the charcoal-grey scaled hand on your chest, “Vergil…”

     The two of you locked eyes and Vergil leaned down to you. Gently, he kissed you. It was a physical manifestation of a promise; a promise that he will take good care of you.     The black and blue scaled devil tilted back upright, his fingers lightly clawing up your middle sliding to rest on each side of your hips. With slow careful--almost fearful--motion, he began to test what you thought of his devilish body. A string of low groans left your lips as you closed your eyes, focusing on the feeling of his cock. Your chest was moving in an almost exaggerated manner as Vergil slowly ramped things up. The unhurried nature of his movements allowed you to feel each rib of his cock, feeling every time one would leave and re-enter your aching hole. 

     In an elongated teasing manner, Vergil removed himself out to his tip and pushed back in--making sure you felt every bit of him and savored him. He closed his eyes, doing his best to keep a level head as he intently listened to the breathy moans leaving your lips. 

     Once more, he removed himself out to the tip; this time, however, he slammed back inside. A sharp mixed noise of a grunt, moan, and gasp came from you. His eyes opened as he repeated the action; making sure to remove himself slower than before and return twice as hard. 

     Your back arched at his actions, eyes focused on the ceiling above you. When you looked back at Vergil, his eyes were trained on yours with an unplaceable emotion hidden behind his gaze. His emotion became clear when he harshly pulled out and slammed his hips against you; no longer feeling the need to hold back. 

     With each thrust, you were pushed up on the bed and his hands would yank you back down to meet the brutal bucking of his hips. All that could be heard was the sound of his hips hitting yours and the wet squelching from the previous rounds and copious amounts of lube in your ass. Concentrating on your expression, Vergil failed to notice that his claws had sunk into your skin which anchored his grip into you. Leaning down, he placed his face in the crook of your shoulder; kissing you carefully. 

     After a moment, he leaned back up slightly to place his nose beside yours. You placed a hand on his cheek, thumbing over the leathery skin. Your pinkie mindlessly ran along the silver spikes that formed a beard of sorts at his jawline, curious as to what it felt like. He leaned into your touch and, despite him still jackhammering away, he felt a warm sweet feeling at your overly gentle treatment of him. 

     “Grab onto me,” Vergil whispered, his voice thick with lust and uncharacteristically gruff. 

     You did as he asked, wrapping your hands around the backside of his neck. Vergil picked you up and wrapped his wings around you, pushing you tightly against him. A small hiss slipped through your lips at the feeling of your dick rubbing against Vergil’s torso. It didn’t hurt per se but it was extremely overwhelming. Your nails dug into his scales, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. 

     Seeming to notice your distress, the blue devil began to lightly lick and nip at your neck and throat. He took a long deep inhale of your scent, pressing his chest against yours, desiring to get closer to you than possible. As he exhaled, you felt his hot breath wash over you and tickle at your skin causing you to let out a restrained laugh. 

     With a hum, Vergil slowed slightly and took a moment to enjoy the closeness of your bodies. The feeling of your soft human skin against his scales made his gut twist. A distant hidden part of him felt an odd arousal from the idea of how fragile you were--how he could crush you instantly if he wanted; completely contradicting his main anxious mindset.

     Moving your hand to his chest, you pushed him away, confusing Vergil for a moment, before you cupped his face and pulled him into a kiss. Lazy sloppy kisses caused him to let out a small moan, which intensified at the feeling of you repeatedly biting at his lower lip. His thrusts switched to a moderate pace as his fingertips kneaded against you. As you pulled away, he let out a disappointed huff, which was quickly replaced with a dark low gravely moan. 

     Despite not being able to break his hide, you leaned down and bit his neck; at a somewhat odd angle because of the horns that wrapped around to the front of his head. It is rare for Vergil to allow you to bite him, however, feeling you claim him--just as he did you--made his body ache. After a moment, you stopped and placed a soft kiss against him. You repeated the action on the other side of his neck, Once done, you trailed kisses along his neck to his throat and placed an elongated kiss against his Adam’s apple. Vergil let out a small grunt at the feeling and, when you tilted back, you were met with heavy half-lidded eyes. 

     The blue devil nudged you to expose your neck and placed his face in the crook of your shoulder, breathing heavily, “I love you.”

     Without allowing you to respond, he pushed your hips downwards and fucked into you as quickly as possible. A loud groan left your lips at the inhuman speed of Vergil’s cock and you grasped at whatever you could, causing Vergil to let out a surprised huffed moan at your unexpectedly rough touches. His claws left the new loving craters in your thighs and slid to your ass, pulling you apart. 

     Before you could question, your eyes went wide. The blue devil pushed his knot inside you, somewhat forcefully, as he let out a thunderous semi-whiney shaky moan. Once buried into you, his hands returned to your hips and his claws to the same holes as before. 

     You let out a whimpering moan as you hit another peak, feeling his cum gush inside you. He hadn’t disclosed anything about a knot or that he was going to use it inside you, but you weren’t complaining. It felt as if he’d been pent up for a year with how quickly and how much was being released. 

     It was both a painful and heavenly experience.

     All the while, Vergil could only continue to repeat your name and whisper how much he loves you; almost as if he were begging for you to say it back, as if you weren’t already committed to him. With a soft kiss against his horn closest to your mouth, you whispered, “I love you,” which caused him to grind against you, attempting to further spear you than he had already.

     Unsure what to do now you were stuck together, Vergil laid you back down and laid atop you. His wings were stretched out flat and his forearms were wrapped around your torso, across your shoulder blades. With his face directly down onto your chest, his eyes fluttered shut and he purred loudly. Although you wanted nothing to do but lie still, curiosity got the better of you, and you ran a hand along his horns which made him purr tenfold louder. 

     Admittedly, Vergil wanted to stay as you were, interlocked and him pinning you down; but he also wanted to patch you up. You could feel how fast his heart was beating; whether it was from fucking, cumming, or nerves was anyone’s guess. All you could do was lay there and take it while listening to his breathing and purring. The two of you stayed interwoven for nearly ten minutes, Vergil shifting several times in an attempt to remove himself. 

     Finally, he stopped twitching. He stood back up and carefully slid out which was accompanied by an audible pop and your hips quivering. Vergil’s chest heaved as he de-triggered. Beyond tired, he returned to the same position as before and laid against your chest.

     “Vergil?” Your voice was raspy and very overtly worn out.

     Without moving, he spoke against your skin, “Yes, my love?”

     You placed a hand in his hair, running your fingers through the utterly disheveled white strands, “How do you feel?”

     He quietly laughed, “I am calm, for now; if that is what you are asking.”

     With a heavy exhale you hummed a sound of relief.

     “How are you feeling?”

     “Want me to be honest?”

     “Mhm.”

     “Like I was just in a category five hurricane.”

     “I’m sorry,” he placed a kiss against your breastbone, “Is there anything I can do to make up for it?”

     Lightly, you ran your fingers down his neck to his shoulder blades, sliding up his arm, “Help me get into the bath?”

     Vergil smiled, “Of course, my dear,” he shifted upwards and placed a kiss against your lips, “Anything for my mate.”

===

ENDING NOTES: Originally I had planned to also have Sin Trigger sex in this but I thought that would be a bit too much to digest from one story; plus “Bed of the Blue Devil” is entirely based on that aspect.  Also between the teaser from yesterday (early this morning) and now; I found out that I have the ‘rona so… Life is really great--it’s just one thing after another, I finally wanna write and do stuff but now I’m exhausted and feel like someone beat my skull in with a sledgehammer  🦢💧🦢 Poem Quoted: “Love’s Philosophy” Percy Bysshe Shelley

If you like this please consider checking this on my AO3. There are extra chapters and my H/Cs over there, so please consider checking them out! Comments, Likes/Kudos, and shares are always appreciated! Thanks so much for reading!! :)))

MASTER LIST FOR TUMBLR

[torturedtraveler]

dear xx univeristy application office,

Listen, I know I've been rejected and this personal statement is not going to mean anything. But I feel like writing it, as a reflection of the past few months.

With what happened in middle school, I got diagnosed with depression and anxiety and transferred schools. I started dating a friend but broke up shortly after. One day he jumped from our school building and passed away (he had bipolar), it felt like a slap across my face and from then on, I gave up on myself.

I stopped showing up to class consistently and socializing. Until one day in Form 6, I realized, I didn't understand any of the things my teachers were saying in class and I would have my IB exams in less than a year. I couldn't catch up, I couldn't do it. Again, I was impulsive and have always been so I decided to just quit IB and start A-Levels. Fast forward a few months, I found out that I still couldn't do it, because of my mental health, I couldn't pull through, and in the midst of it, my grandpa passed away. These all piled up on me again and I had to quit, again. I took one A-Level and IELTS and decided to apply for associate degree programs. I chose translation originally because I am fluent in both English and Chinese and I have always wanted to do something related to languages. However, something shifted in me one day, I applied to the same colleges but instead, in Psychology.

I went through what I would call "hell" in those 5-6 years in secondary, I struggled every day with mental health, with depression, with anxiety, and I wanted to do something in the future that could help kids like me. In fact, XX College gave me a conditional offer but unfortunately, my academic qualifications did not meet their requirements (probably because I didn't graduate from a secondary school) just like how I didn't meet your requirements and am not what you wanted. Fortunately, my current College accepted me for my qualifications and there I started my tertiary education.

The school year started off great and strong. I was attending classes every day, socializing with my classmates, handing in assignments, all these things I NEVER managed to do consistently in high school.

My family and friends were shocked about the transformation. I was actually working hard in school.

Hey, I know a 3.26 GPA might have not been the best and you were probably expecting something higher, but that wasn't what mattered, what mattered was, I changed. I started taking my academics seriously, even through hard days, when I felt tired and depressed (occasionally), I showed up to class and did my work, and I made friends, which again, was shocking considering I developed social anxiety after I was bullied in high school for my ex-boyfriends' suicide.

However, my anxiety got worse near the end of the first semester and I had to postpone my final requirements, nonetheless, I finished them at the start of semester B.

I don't know what went wrong from there, but it was obvious that my mental health was getting bad again because I wasn't showing up to class and I wasn't paying attention in class. Though I was still handing in assignments and working hard on them, I wasn't showing up to class consistently. I only acknowledged the decline of my mental health at the start of March, when I started isolating myself again and stopped talking to my mom, who has always been my best friend. Fast forward to my second mid-term test, I thought I would feel less pressured after finishing it, but nope, it only went downhill from there. I didn't show up to class for 2 consecutive weeks. My mom was asking me if I was okay, and my friends were asking me why I wasn't showing up to class. I repeatedly reassured them I was fine, I just needed some time off for myself, but in reality, I was only trying to reassure myself that I was fine because I refused to admit that I was having a relapse. I didn't want to accept it, I was doing so fine for so long, I was getting so much better, and everyone was praising me for it, what could go wrong? Well, reality sucks, and sometimes, depression creeps its way back into your life with no apparent reason.

April was when things got really bad, depression was presenting itself in physical ways. I caught a cold, and it got better after 3 days, but then I had abdominal pain, which escalated to stomachache. It was one of the worst physical pain I have ever felt in my life, I had a low fever and I could not stand up, my mom wanted to call the ambulance and get me to the hospital but I refused because I knew I had to wait to see the doctor and my pain would just worsen. I saw a doctor the next day and he informed me that it was gastroenteritis. I had to stay home for a few days because I was still in some level of pain. I was forced to put down my academics for a while. Aphthous ulcer found its way to my mouth later (and I actually still do have it at the current moment), and now I can't even have a proper meal without being in pain.

The physical symptoms weren't the worst part. Do you know that feeling of working on an assignment one day in an empty room in the school library on a Saturday afternoon, listening to jazz and making good progress, and all of a sudden you stared at a blank wall and started bawling your eyes out? That's what happened to me. I experienced that consecutively for a week. Just completely random moments in life, you were feeling fine the last second, and the next, you were crying for your dear life.

I was in the shower once and suicidal thoughts consumed my mind, I was bombarded with all the ways I could end my life, jumping off a building, hanging myself, cutting myself, etc. I felt despairful, worthless, exhausted, all the worst emotions you could possibly think of, and was just ready. Ready for me to leave because I had no worth, I wasn't showing up to class and it was reflected in my grades. I mustered up the strength to call in my mom because for a split second there I still wanted to hold on, I didn't want to give up just quite yet.

All these were happening, because I had so much pressure on my shoulders, that I imposed on myself, to get a high GPA, to get into a prestigious university in my city, to get into XX Univeristy. I didn't want to spend 2 years in community college and wanted to ascend to university as fast as I could.

I received your university's rejection yesterday, and let me tell you, yesterday was an awful day. To start with, rains flooded the streets near my school campus, even under an umbrella I was drenched, from head to bottom. I arrived on campus completely soaked, with water in my shoes. At that point, I was already depressed (bad weather could seriously affect your mood), nonetheless, I told myself "It was a bad experience, but that will not dictate your day, you still have a full day ahead of you", so I mustered a smile on my face and went straight to class. I was chatting with friends as it was the last class and we were all just doing revisions. I went to the library shortly after.

I wasn't as productive as I wanted to be because 1) I wasn't motivated and 2) Depression can really interfere with your daily life functioning, for example, doing work. I didn't get as much done as I wanted to so I decided, maybe it was time to go home.

I took the train, I bought myself dinner, I grabbed the mail, I went home. I sat down, with my dinner in front of me, and opened up the application portal on my laptop.

The word "unsuccessful" was under my application status and into my eyes.

I kid you not, I felt like my life had ended right there. Everything that I had worked so hard for, all the pressure I had imposed on myself to get a high GPA, to get into a prestigious university, and the high hopes that I had, all faded in one single moment.

I called my mom screaming and crying, shouting into the phone about how miserable I was, I was in so much pain. I couldn't think straight and my mom reassured me that she was on her way home. She arrived, grabbed a chair, and sat next to me.

Essentially our conversation went on for about 45 minutes, and I remember distinctly, one of the things she said was, "So? That's it?". It was a wake-up call for me.

All this time, the amount of pressure I've put on myself, the sleepless nights I've had to experience, the physical symptoms, the mental symptoms, etc. All because of one number that I ignorantly thought would dictate my future. I lost sight of what I originally did this for. In working towards getting into university to get a degree where I could help people, I ironically forgot to help myself. I lost sight of what was important in the current moment, my priority is not yet to help others struggling with mental health, it's me, I'm struggling with my mental health, I am my priority. I neglected my mental health and what I truly needed, it wasn't grades, it was self-love. Caring for myself, listening to my needs, attending to myself, and acknowledging that I was struggling.

It's okay to relapse. It's okay to know that you need help. It's okay that you're depressed again even if you thought you didn't have depression anymore. It's okay that it's near finals season but you're mentally struggling, maybe you need to postpone again, and that's okay. Do you know why? Because we're humans, and it's okay to not be okay.

All these years of struggling, I haven't done much with my life and I desperately wanted to prove to myself and everyone else, that for once, I could do something, I am capable of something. I wanted to get into a university, a prestigious one, the top in my city, to redeem myself. Because my sister got into a good university, and my friends from high school got into good universities. I NEED to prove to people that I am not dumber than them, just because I wasted a few years in secondary school doesn't mean I am less smart than them. I can still get into university.

I am just as good. Not because of good grades or whether I am in a good university or not though. I am a good person because I have a good heart, I care for everyone around me deeply and I'm always there for them even if I'm struggling. I am a good person because I have a passion, I want to work hard to achieve my passion and help people professionally. I am a good person because I have hobbies, I have things I enjoy doing and I do my best to advance my skills, and to work hard to achieve small goals in life.

I am a good person because I haven't given up on myself yet. 6 years of depression and anxiety, and countless times standing on a ledge, wanting to jump but convincing myself not to.

Because my ultimate goal in life is to be happy, I know there will be bad days and bad experiences, some days might feel like the end of the world (just like yesterday), but some would feel like I'm floating on cloud 9. That doesn't equal a bad life. And I'm learning to accept that.

I want to be surrounded by people I love, loving them back in the same way so they know they're not alone because they were there for me when I was at my lowest. I am the happiest when I'm loving, I'm giving, and when I'm learning. Psychology is something I'm passionate about, not the GPA system. What I should do in the current moment is to learn, enjoy the process, and work hard to show my teachers, and myself, that I have done my best with what I've learned.

Thank you for your rejection. Your wake-up call. If it weren't for this, I wouldn't have realized what I was doing wrong this whole time and I probably would've stayed in that same position for a while. I'm taking it day by day now, and I'm getting better, and that's what truly matters.

My deepest gratitude for reviewing my application and considering it. Also for reading this if you have.

Thank you, I truly, deeply, appreciate it.

Warmest regards

[qsmpbutwithsignlanguage]

Okay. Let's talk, QSMPblr, because I want to talk.

The Brazilian side of this fandom is actually insane. If nobody else has said it yet (which I highly doubt, but I'll put it out there anyway), then I will.

You guys are some of the smartest, most die-hard, committed fans I've met. And you're insanely positive, which might seem like a weird thing to say, but I feel like I've seen it anyway. On that note.

I've talked about this fanfiction in the past, so if you saw that post, you'll know what I'm getting into here. But I want to delve into this a bit more.

'The Reason' by Nan_Yelo is the most kudosed work of fanfiction in Brazilian Portuguese, period. It is in a fandom that has only existed since March of 2023, up against the translated version of the most kudosed fanfiction on AO3 (All the Young Dudes by MsKingBean89 translated into All the Young Dudes by wolfuckingstar) and multiple other fandoms and fanfictions that have existed far, far longer. Every time I find the fanfic again, I am continuously flabbergasted that it got to where it was.

However, its placement in kudos is not its only astonishing accomplishment. I've talked about it's kudos. I've lamented and waxed poetry about its kudos until the night turned to day and I reached my mental QSMP limit (which is astonishingly high, might I say). But the kudos are not the only place where 'The Reason' has done astonishingly well.

Clocking in 88,844 words, 128 comments (including one of my own, awkwardly gushing about the fanfiction in English because my Portuguese can let me say the word 'cheese' and 'I don't speak Portuguese, sorry'), 143 bookmarks, 35,035 hits, and probably most notably, 1,628 kudos, 'The Reason' is honestly a record-breaking fanfiction in more ways than one.

It is about a fandom that has only existed since March of 2023, and about a duo that really only came around in April of that same year.

It is the tenth most kudosed fanfiction under the QSMP tag, which I think is actually insane. Officially, the QSMP has thirty-four streamers displayed on its members page, plus Quackity's Spanish channel and the straight up QSMP streaming account. Of this five are Brazilian. Slightly more than 1/7th of the total streamers. One former member was also Brazilian, so adding them into the mix would bump that number up to 6/35, or a bit more than 17%. Not half, not a quarter, not even a fifth of the total number of streamers.

And despite this fact, in spite of this fact, fanfiction about the Brazilian members of the QSMP has been some of the most popular in the fandom.

That out of the way, not only is 'The Reason' the most kudosed Brazilian Portuguese fanfiction, it is also the most kudosed Portuguese fanfiction period.

Compare it to the most kudosed European Portuguese fanfiction available to a user logged in on AO3, 'E Depois do Adeus (And After Goodbye)' by Palacios_Modernos.

244 kudos, and the most kudosed European Portuguese fanfiction. Then look at 'The Reason'. 1,628, meaning that 'The Reason' is the singular most kudosed fanfiction in any type of Portuguese published on AO3. (I have checked Uncategorized Constructed Languages and the other language tabs for any other registered types of Portuguese, and none exist, meaning that European Portuguese and Brazilian Portuguese are the only two out there to look at).

It is the second most bookmarked fanfiction in Brazilian Portuguese, at 143 bookmarks, which is only 15 below the most bookmarked fanfiction in Brazilian Portuguese (Rainha de Sothoryos by MarVermelho), which has has less than half the kudos and 10,000 less hits.

Comparing these two fanfictions to the most bookmarked fanfiction in European Portuguese, which clocks in at 33, this can also claim its title as the second most bookmarked fanfiction in Portuguese period.

And when it comes to hits, 'The Reason' clocks in at fourth out of all Portuguese fanfiction available to a user signed into AO3.

This fanfiction is six months old, part of a fandom that has been around since March of 2023, up against three fanfictions from Harry Potter, a franchise that has been around for decades (yeah, I'm going there, I'll make everyone feel old if I feel like it). And it is genuinely record breaking in every definition of the word.

Is this post long as fuck? Yes. Is it entirely deserved? Absolutely.

Go read it, because 'The Reason' is actually insane. It has been fully translated into English and partially translated into Spanish as of February 19th, 2023, and it's honestly beautiful.

[coochiequeens]

Common sense is returning.

James Crisp, EUROPE EDITOR 13 April 2024

Dr Hilary Cass said children who think they are transgender should not be given any hormone drugs at all until at least 18 CREDIT: Yui Mok

Belgium and the Netherlands have become the latest countries to question the use of puberty blockers on children after the Cass Review warned of a lack of research on the gender treatment’s long-term effects.

Britain has become the fifth European nation to restrict the use of the drug to those under 18 after initially making them part of their gender treatments.

Their use was based on the “Dutch protocol” - the term used for the practice pioneered in the Netherlands in 1998 and copied around the world, of treating gender dysphoric youth using puberty blockers.

The NHS stopped prescribing the drug, which is meant to curb the trauma of a body maturing into a gender that the patient does not identify with this month.

In Belgium, doctors have called for gender treatment rules to be changed.

Research into impact

“In our opinion, Belgium must reform gender care in children and adolescents following the example of Sweden and Finland, where hormones are regarded as the last resort,” the report by three paediatricians and psychiatrists in Leuven said.

Figures from the Netherlands and the United Kingdom show that more than 95 per cent of individuals who initiated puberty inhibition continue with gender-affirming treatments,” the report by P Vankrunkelsven P, K Casteels K and J De Vleminck said.

“However, when young people with gender dysphoria go through their natural puberty, these feelings will only persist in about 15 per cent.”

The report was published after a 60 per cent rise in the number of Belgium teenagers taking the blockers to stop the development of their bodies. In 2022, 684 people between the ages of nine and 17 were prescribed the drug compared to 432 in 2019, the De Morgen newspaper reported in 2019.

Pressure is also building in the neighbouring Netherlands to look again at their use. The parliament has ordered research into the impact of puberty blockers on adolescent’s physical and mental health.

Dutch protocol

The Telegraph understands that the Amsterdam Center of Expertise on Gender Dysphoria, where the protocol originated, is set to make a statement on the use of puberty blockers next week.

“I too thought that the Dutch gender care was very careful and evidence-based. But now I don’t think that any more,” Jilles Smids, a postdoctoral researcher in medical ethics at Erasmus University in the Netherlands, told The Atlantic.

Attitudes in the Netherlands have hardened against trans rights, with a bill to make it easier for people to legally change their gender being held up in parliament.

The Cass Review said that the NHS had moved away from the restrictions of the original Dutch protocol, and researchers in Belgium have also demanded those restrictions be reintroduced.

Belgium is regarded as one of the most trans-friendly countries in Europe. A minister in the government is transgender and people have been able to legally change their gender without a medical certificate for the past five years.

But the hard-Right Vlaams Belang party is currently leading the polls ahead of national and European elections in June.

It has called for “hormone therapy and sex surgery to be halted for underage patients until clear and concrete research has been carried out.”

‘Greatest ethical scandals’

In March, a report in France described sex reassignment in minors as potentially “one of the greatest ethical scandals in the history of medicine”.

Conservative French senators plan to introduce a bill to ban gender transition treatments for under-18s.

On Monday, the Vatican’s doctrine office published a report that branded gender surgery a grave violation of human dignity on a par with euthanasia and abortion.

Finland was one of the first countries to adopt the Dutch protocol but realised many of its patients did not meet the Protocol’s strict eligibility requirements for the drugs.

It restricted the treatment in 2020 and recommended psychotherapy as the primary care.

Sweden restricted hormone treatments to “exceptional cases” two years later. In December, Norwegian authorities designated the medicine as “under trial”, which means they will only be prescribed to adolescents in clinical trials.

Denmark is finalising new guidelines limiting hormone treatments to teenagers who have had dysphoria since early childhood.

In 2020, Hungary passed a law banning gender changes on legal documents.

“The import and the use of these hormone products are not banned, but subject to case by case approval, however, it is certain that no authority would approve such an application for people under 18,“ a spokesperson told The Telegraph.

In August, Russia criminalised all gender reassignment surgery and hormone treatments.

[ofmymuses]

i don't really know how to start this; i'm at a loss for words to describe how disappointed and upset i am right now. i don't want to go into too much detail about what's going on or add any pictures to this post for the public to see (but please dm me if you want proof or more detail, etc).

i made a post a few days ago but if you didn't see it, i'll explain super briefly — my boyfriend recently lost his job and i haven't been working due to my mental health along with a few other series of unfortunate events that have happened since. we aren't able to pay our $800 rent this month or pay for much of anything right now. i'm trying really hard to get a job (and have made it a goal to find one by the end of march break - on the 15th) but not getting calls back. my boyfriend has a job lined up with his brother but we're waiting for a call from them and who knows how long that could take.

i'm not going to lie, i can't offer much. right now, the best i can do is indie / rpg makeovers (or making them over from scratch for you, so you don't have to worry about doing anything) and anything on my what i do page. i could also potentially make static icons but i don't have access to photoshop at the moment so i can't get much more adventurous than that.

here's a direct link if you're able to help (though reblogs help just as much too); if you would like something in return, please include the tumblr/discord username i can reach you at and what you would like in the "what's this for?" section. i'm a bit cramped with stuff to do today but i'll reach out to you asap. you have my absolute deepest and sincerest gratitude and thanks for taking the time to read through this and for your consideration ♡♡

[granada-brett-crumbs]

Hello! I’ve always wondered something: Why was Holmes sick/needing convalescence in The Devil’s Foot that had he not taken he would have had a mental breakdown?

Hi friend, this ask has been languishing in my drafts for six months to the point I totally forgot about it, apologies for that.

Now, to answer your question: According to the canon, The Devil's Foot events take place in the spring of 1897, that's 6 years post Final Problem, meaning Holmes is in his early 40s. This is what Watson says about Holmes's condition and the reason he's prescribed with a trip to Cornwall:

It was, then, in the spring of the year 1897 that Holmes’s iron constitution showed some symptoms of giving way in the face of constant hard work of a most exacting kind, aggravated, perhaps, by occasional indiscretions of his own. In March of that year Dr. Moore Agar... gave positive injunctions that the famous private agent lay aside all his cases and surrender himself to complete rest if he wished to avert an absolute breakdown. The state of his health was not a matter in which he himself took the faintest interest, for his mental detachment was absolute, but he was induced at last, on the threat of being permanently disqualified from work, to give himself a complete change of scene and air.

So, it seems like Holmes was going through a severe case of burn out combined with the consequences of "the ocassional indiscretion" (drug use). Quite touching to think about Watson taking the time to find a little cottage on Cornwall for Holmes to recover and keep an eye on him :')

[stranger-rants]

@disco-deviant

I’ve thought of this, but in terms of years… with a little rearranging of what’s given when. Here’s Part I of II. I’ll be posting the second part tomorrow.

March 29, 1985

Billy turns 18. It’s a Friday. Steve leaves a box of earrings in his locker. Tucked inside is a note that says “you know who” written in chicken scratch with a crude smiley face.

Steve is big on grand gestures, but this thing is new between them and he doesn’t want to scare Billy off. It’s mostly just make out sessions and sloppy handjobs to chase away the loneliness. He found out through the grapevine that it would be Billy’s birthday soon. He saw the earrings in a shop, and he knew they’d look good on Billy. So of course he bought them.

When Billy arrives on his doorstep later that night, golden feather dangling from his ear, Steve pulls him in by the waist. Says, “Fuck, you look so good birthday boy.”

Billy leans in, breath ghosting over Steve’s lips. Asks, “These earrings for me or for you?”

March 29th 1986

Billy turns 19. It’s a Saturday. Billy has spent months in recovery - multiple surgeries, physical therapy, counseling. Steve’s trying to be a good… boyfriend? Lover? Friend? He’s not sure. Billy’s been mentally miles away. Says little. Jolts, sometimes, in response to touch. Still.

Billy hasn’t worn his medallion in a while. He can’t. It was ripped off of him when the EMTs were trying to stabilize him, and put in a small zip locked plastic bag for safe keeping. The chain was irreparably broken, and the medallion was covered in blood.

Whenever Steve visited him in the hospital, he’d notice Billy absent-mindedly touch his chest. At first, he thought it was a self conscious reaction to his scars, but over time he saw that Billy would always touch the exact spot where the medallion used to hang as if feeling it’s phantom presence and his heart would break when he realized it wasn’t there. Steve knew then what he had to do.

He gets the medallion cleaned and polished, and a pretty gold chain to hang it on. Billy cries when he sees it. Begs Steve to help him put it on, and Steve nods, “Yes, of course.”

March 29th 1987

Billy turns 20. It’s a Sunday. Billy officially moved in with Steve a few months ago with the few items he had from his old bedroom. An old couch they should probably kick to the curb. A dusty stereo that takes up way too much space. And then there’s the wooden crates which double as storage and a flat surface for his makeshift vanity, cluttered with colognes and hair spray.

Steve wants him to feel comfortable in his home - their home, but everything Billy brings with him screams “making do” when they could easily do better.

So, Steve devises a plan to refurbish an old dresser-vanity he found at good will. It’s not something he’s done before, but he was decent in shop class so he thinks he can figure it out. How hard could it be?

It’s a pain in the ass as it turns out, but well worth Billy’s reaction. He guides Billy into their bedroom with his hands over Billy’s eyes. “Ta-da!” Steve says, pulling his hands away. Billy spends a good few seconds in shock. Then he’s shoving Steve’s dorky ass against the edge of the vanity, furiously kissing him.

March 29th 1988

Billy turns 21. It’s a Tuesday.

Billy’s made so much progress over the past few years, but intimacy… that’s an ongoing struggle. Steve can’t know what it was like. Having that thing living inside Billy. Billy spends a lot of time in front of the vanity, not out of vanity itself but in a way trying to get reacquainted with his own body.

For a person who stares at himself so much when he thinks Steve isn’t looking, Billy doesn’t seem to want to be seen when they make love. He insists on keeping the lights off and keeping his torso covered. When Steve’s hands wander up and under his shirt seeking out his chest, Billy repositions his hands on his thighs instead… which he loves, but Steve can’t help the fact he’s always been a boobs guy.

“Don’t have to do that, y’know…” Billy mutters late one night when they’re curled up.

“Do what?”

“I… I know it looks bad,” Billy sighs, “you don’t have to make me feel better about it.”

Steve’s heart breaks in two. He’s not sure what to say.

“Do you not want me to touch you there?”

“You don’t have to.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Steve says, “I asked if you don’t want me to touch you there, because I love this part of you but if you don’t like it then-”

“I like it! …I like it, but it’s not…”

Steve rolls Billy onto his back, stopping him from his rambling of self loathing.

“Then let me love you the way we both want me to love you.”

For Billy’s birthday, Steve buys him a silky red button down shirt and an expensive cologne that he sets down on Billy’s vanity. Billy wears them both to their dinner date, keeping every button buttoned except for the very top one not loving the feeling of a tight collar around his neck. When they fall into bed that night, Steve inhales the ocean scent of the new cologne on Billy’s neck and works his way down kissing his chest.

“This okay?”

Steve unbuttons the next button slowly.

Billy nods. Nervous, but he takes a deep breath.

Steve unbuttons the next one. Then the next, leaving a trail of kisses over his scars. Billy’s body shivers and his nipples perk up underneath the silky fabric of the shirt. Steve can’t wait to get his mouth on them. Show Billy just how much he loves his body. How he will always love his body.

[cheesybadgers]

Narcos Fic: Old Habits Die Hard (Chap. 21)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20, Chapter 22, Chapter 23, Chapter 24

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Pairing: Javier Peña x Horacio Carrillo

Words: 7,356

Summary: After arriving in Manizales, Horacio introduces Javier to his family, leading to a long overdue heart-to-heart and a drinking game with a twist.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Discussions of coming out, grief, parental loss, canon-typical violence, allusions to period-typical prejudices, drinking game, smoking, swearing.

Notes: Firstly, I will soften the blow of leaving it so long since my last update with the news that chapter 22 will be posted within the next week or so! I decided to split it in half to give more space to the conversations between the characters. So, hopefully that will make up for my elongated silence lol.

Secondly, I finished drafting the rest of the fic at the end of last year 👀 So, I just need to complete editing on chapter 23 and the epilogue. Then, and I can't believe I'm actually saying this, it will be time to leave these two messy idiots to it.

I think it will take me some time to get my head around it coming to an end, not least of all because it's been almost 3 years since I started working on this behemoth. And I can't believe how much has happened/changed since then, yet my love for this ship and this story has stayed strong and close to my heart. So, a bit of a premature thank you to anyone who has supported it at any point since March 2021, it's been quite the emotional rollercoaster ❤️ As always, I love hearing from my readers, so feel free to drop me a comment/message!

I’ve also added to my OHDH trivia post to cover this chapter if anyone is interested.

Chapter 21: For Old Times' Sake

A haze of mist hung low on the horizon, clinging to the rolling waves of verdant peaks that bled seamlessly together with worn asphalt until it was impossible to tell where the sky began and the earth ended.

Luckily, the tyres of the hire car were built for rougher terrain, and it wasn’t the first time Horacio had driven this route. Admittedly, it would have been easier to fly. But this had the added benefit of giving Javier a taste of undiscovered territory.

If truth be told, it gifted them more time to mentally prepare for what was getting closer with every hour that passed, each stop off to admire the view and refresh a stubborn way to prolong the status quo.

Progress had been slow for the last hour as the congested traffic crawled along the sharp angles of the road with its treacherous drops only a few inches away. They had come to a standstill behind a bus that allowed passengers off to take photos, and with little room to manoeuvre around the vehicle, a trail of cars had no choice but to wait.

Javier lounged back in the passenger seat, one foot resting on the opposite knee, his elbow leaning on the door, and the window half open.

He watched Horacio’s hands on the steering wheel alternate between clenching and tapping, a particular kind of rigidity returning to his jaw for the first time in months – if not years.

Javier made an executive decision by reaching into the glove box. He pulled out an emergency pack of cigarettes and a lighter they had stashed away before setting off from Medellín.

He lifted one out of the pack and sparked up. “So, did you say it’s a farm we’re heading to?” There was no point asking the obvious, so distraction it was.

“A coffee farm on the outskirts of the city, yeah. It belongs to Fabián’s family. He and his brother, Santiago, do the bulk of the work now their father’s winding down.”

“Sounds nice. And kinda familiar.”

Horacio’s eyes finally left the windshield and met Javier’s with a shadow of a smile. “Yeah, it does. A lot hillier than Texas, though.”

“Well, that wouldn’t be hard.” Javier held out his smoke across the car, their first one that wasn’t post-coital in a long time. But needs must.

Horacio apparently agreed as he accepted it with a huff of resignation. “Fine, one for the road.”

“I think it’s allowed on roads like this one.”

“I did warn you.”

“Hey, no, I like it. Keeps you on your toes.”

“It reminds me of when Papá drove us to visit Tia Salomé and Tio Jairo in Bogotá. He and Mamá let us have sweets for the long journey but warned us the Mareco would take them away if we didn’t behave.”

“The Mareco?”

“La Leyenda del Mareco. It was a story we were told as kids. The Mareco’s a red devil that looks like a lizard on two legs. He steals children’s candy and conjures up a whirlwind to blow them away if they don’t obey their parents.”

Javier nodded in recognition as Horacio passed their cigarette back. “La Llorona was the story used to scare me and my cousins.”

“Oh yeah, we got that one as well.”

“I gotta say, the Mareco explains a lot.”

“About what?”

“About how you developed a problem with authority.”

“What’s your excuse then?”

“What can I say? I was led astray.”

It was a blatant lie, but Javier didn’t care when it caused laughter lines to materialise in the corner of Horacio’s eyes.

“We both know you were drawn to it as much as you resented it.”

“Only where you were concerned. Anyway, you were just as bad even though you'd never admit it.”

“Maybe you were my exception too.”

A moment of silence fell as memory after memory collided, snapshots of how the push and pull between them had evolved with their relationship.

"Listen, I was thinking,” Javier started before taking a drag, “would it make things easier if you wore this? Just while we’re here, I mean.”

Horacio’s gaze drifted to Javier’s exposed skin, the taillights of the car in front catching on the crucifix at his chest. “No,” he said matter-of-factly. “It’s yours now.”

By the time their cigarette was finished, the traffic edged forward, and the road ahead and Javier’s hand on Horacio’s leg soon replaced conversation.

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

Two and a half hours and several bursts of heavy rain later, the muddied hire car pulled up by a complex of buildings nestled amongst a sea of lush green and vibrant flowers. The buildings sat atop steep slopes of vegetation that led to the coffee plantations below, the foggy skyline above etched with rugged ridges and the ominous outline of Nevado del Ruiz in the distance.

Any sounds from life on a working coffee farm were drowned out by birdsong and their feet crunching beneath them as Horacio and Javier walked up the gravel path towards the main finca. It was typical in its style with a rustic tiled roof, whitewashed bricks and wooden pillars around its perimeter painted in the same shade of terracotta red as the doors and window frames. At the back of the property was a large garden with a patio area, pool and a spectacular view for miles on a clear day.

As they lugged their suitcases onto the porch, Alejandra waited to greet them at the front door. Her dark hair was styled in a bob with waves bordering on curls, the kind Javier imagined Horacio could grow if he wasn’t so insistent on keeping his hair short. At least since leaving the CNP, he had been less strict about cutting it.

The family resemblance between the two siblings was evident in their facial features, particularly in the shape of their noses, charcoal eyes and Cupid’s bows. But Alejandra was a few inches shorter, and her frame was slimmer on account of not carrying the same muscle as Horacio.

“The wanderer finally returns,” Alejandra announced as she pulled Horacio in for a long hug, neither of them keen to be the first to let go. “At least you remembered how to use the phone before turning up on my doorstep.”

“Of course. It's good to see you. But I am sorry I left it so long. There’s, erm…a lot to catch up on.”

“I’ll say.” She peered curiously behind Horacio. “But first, let me say hello to this handsome new face.”

She all but pushed Horacio to one side, forgoing any formal introductions he might have had planned. All Horacio could do was stand and watch two parts of his life converge that, for a long time, he believed would never – and could never – meet.

Javier had hung back by several feet, his hands self-consciously stuffed into the pockets of his jeans as he kept his eyes on the ground until he was spoken to.

“Hi there, I’m Alejandra. You must be Javier?”

“Oh, er, yeah, hi.” For reasons unbeknownst to Javier, he raised his hand in a stiff wave rather than the relaxed handshake he had planned and felt the heat instantly rise in his cheeks. “Pleasure to finally meet you. Beautiful place you’ve got up here.”

“Likewise. And thanks.” Much to Javier's relief, she took the lead and held out a hand for him to shake with a reassuring smile. “Although you’ve got Fabián to thank for that. He’s down there giving a tour to one of our new buyers.” Alejandra turned back to face Horacio. “Mamá’s shopping for school supplies and tonight’s dessert with Juan José, Sofía and Mateo. Ana María’s out with friends. But they should all be back in the next few hours.”

Horacio nodded but remained taciturn, keeping to himself his strong suspicions that Alejandra had made sure she was the only one to greet them upon arrival.

“Come on, you can show Javier around whilst I make us something to eat and drink.”

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It had been a long time since Horacio’s last visit, but he could just about remember the layout of the place. He took Javier through the downstairs rooms, moving from the hall to the living areas and then the kitchen, which appeared tidier now than in his dreams.

The décor was all tiled or wooden floors and earthy tones, contrasting against large airy windows that made the landscape outside seem like a part of the finca. Evidence of three generations and two cats was scattered everywhere in the form of toys, games, videos, tapes, books, various coffee products and photographs from over the years. In one corner stood a home altar containing a large crucifix, prayer cards, rosary beads, candles, and a statue of Virgen de Chiquinquirá. In the opposite corner was a shelf full of old vinyl with Lucho Bermúdez taking pride of place, naturally.

Upstairs housed six bedrooms and three bathrooms, on account of the brood of four children, three adults and a spare room. The spare room was their last stop, where they dumped their luggage, sharing an amused glance at the double bed with a smaller fold-out one laid out in the corner with a pile of fresh sheets.

“As your guest, I take it I get the bigger one?” Javier asked with a spark of mischief in his eye.

“Well, technically, I’m also a guest here. And I did do all the driving.”

“Maybe I’ll, er, flip you for it later.”

Horacio merely raised a brow at the suggestion in Javier’s tone before they headed back downstairs.

They sat under cover of the terrace in the wildly growing garden, just in case the rain returned, which was always a distinct possibility in Manizales. An impressive platter of fruits was laid out on the table alongside freshly made coffee.

“So, how was the wedding?” Alejandra asked as she poured from a pot into three cups, the dark, rich aroma diffusing into the same crisp air the beans were grown and harvested.

Horacio accepted a cup with a thanks and passed the other to Javier. “It was nice. Good to see everyone again.”

“How’s Trujillo doing? It’s been strange seeing his face all over the news.”

Rather than his, Horacio thought with a strange lurch to the gut he wasn’t expecting. “He’s doing well; he’s a Major now. He deserves some happiness after everything.”

“He’s not the only one.”

Alejandra gave Horacio a pointed look, one he wasn’t ready to entirely meet, so he reached for a slice of guayaba instead.

“And Javier...I take it this is your first visit to Manizales?” she continued, offering him the fruit tray.

“Thanks. And yeah, it is. Never got the time to explore much beyond Bogotá and Medellín.” That wasn't exactly true, but Javier didn’t think talk of Cartagena or Tolú would be welcome right now.

“Well, I hope it won’t be your last.”

Horacio could feel another look directed his way but pretended not to notice it and sipped on his coffee.

Once they had eaten their weight in fruit, Alejandra had some business calls to make, leaving Javier and Horacio to unpack and freshen up before reconvening to make a start on dinner.

Of course, it had to be sudado de pollo. Horacio and Alejandra worked as a team, issuing sporadic instructions to Javier when necessary. But he was happy listening to them catch up and reminisce.

“That smells amazing already,” Javier said as he finely chopped onions across a wooden board, gesturing to the dishful of chicken thighs that Alejandra had just finished marinating.

“Mamá’s secret blend,” she replied as she set the dish aside to move on to dicing several tomatoes.

“Oh yeah? What would I have to do to get the recipe for that?” Javier reflexively caught Horacio’s eye across the kitchen.

“If we told you, we’d have to kill you.” Horacio shot Javier a warning look that indicated he was only half joking before focusing intently on cutting up a large batch of yuca and potatoes.

“Yeah, not even Fabián knows.”

“Papá never knew either. But he was happy for us or Mamá to make it for him.”

“My Mamá was the same with her Abuela’s morisqueta. Although, not long before she passed, she left me and my Pops the recipe.”

Alejandra paused her knife to look up at Javier, the surprise on her face soon transforming into recognition and sympathy. “I bet it’s delicious. You should make it for us some time.”

Now it was Horacio’s turn to stop, his eyes travelling from Alejandra to Javier and back again as the implication of his sister’s words hung as heavy in the kitchen as the aromatic spices of her marinade.

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Once the chicken and vegetables were all prepped and placed in a pot on the stove, the front door opened and closed, a loud chatter of voices soon filling the hallway.

Before Javier knew what was happening, he was being introduced to the children, shaking hands with Fabián, then kissing Elena’s cheek.

“Welcome, Javier. It’s good to put a face to a name at last,” Elena said, thoroughly taking in his appearance, apparently satisfied with what she saw.

At last. Javier wasn’t sure whether those words put him at ease or made him more nervous, but he managed to push such thoughts behind a smile. “Nice to meet you, and likewise.”

Javier had briefly seen pictures of Horacio’s family in the past. But he, too, spent time studying Elena now that he was close enough to smell the floral notes of her perfume. Neat oval glasses and a mix of dark and light grey hair cut short and choppy framed her sharp features, the shape of her nose and Cupid’s Bow matching those of her children.

“No thanks to this one here, mind you.” Despite her chastisement, Elena embraced her son tightly, reluctant to let go. “I think he’s been hiding from us.”

“You know it wasn’t like that, Mamá.” Although, over his Mamá’s head, Horacio gave Javier a sheepish look that said otherwise. “It is good to see you. And I’m sorry I left it so long.”

Upon greeting his nieces and nephews, Horacio was struck by how much they had all grown up since his last visit. Ana María was the spitting image of her mother. Juan José was several inches taller than Horacio and resembled his father more than ever. And Mateo and Sofía had presumably become resentful of all the matching outfits in their younger years of being twins, going out of their way to dress as differently from each other as possible. Once they had said their obligatory hellos, they scattered around the house and no doubt wouldn’t re-appear until dinner was ready.

Right on cue, when Alejandra brought out steaming and brimming plates full of sudado de pollo, everyone rapidly took their places around the table.

Silence fell as they tucked in, the warmth and comfort of childhood cocooning Horacio from what he knew was inevitable. A welcomed interruption from his thoughts came with a soft brush against his leg, his instincts telling him it was one of the cats issuing their own greeting. But he should have known better.

As they ate and endured the usual family small talk, Javier's foot became Horacio's anchor, subtle and soothing rubs against his ankle unseen under the table. Steady, grounding, home. 

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

Horacio carried the last few empty plates to the kitchen, where piles of dishes were already stacked high. He had left Javier with Juan José and Mateo, who were showing off the latest video games they had got for Christmas – and were comfortably beating Javier at them, too.

“I’ll wash; you dry. For old times’ sake,” Alejandra said without looking up from the sink where she was filling the basin with water and suds.

“Okay. On the condition we both tidy everything away afterwards.”

“Deal. You’ll just put it in the wrong place unsupervised anyway.”

Horacio swatted the tea towel he’d picked up in her direction, only for her to retaliate by flicking bubbles in his hair.

“We did okay with dinner, didn’t we? I haven’t made that in a long time,” Horacio said.

“You had a good teacher.”

“So did you.”

“Oh, I know. I think that’s why Papá always loved it. We were all in there somewhere.”

“Like our Christmas tamales.”

“Oh, yeah, he couldn’t get enough of those. Remember we always had to make an extra batch for him to take to work?”

“He said they were to share with his unit, but I’m not sure many made it that far.”

Now they were laughing as they worked in tandem, Alejandra changing the water as Horacio cleared the draining board, ready for the next load.

“Did you ever feel like you let him down?” Horacio asked after a long silence, both siblings seemingly waiting for the other to fill it.

“Of course. You know Papá didn’t approve of Fabián at first, right?”

“What?”

“You must’ve heard the arguments?”

“To be fair, there were plenty of arguments between you and Papá.”

“Yeah, and they were mostly about me daring to marry someone other than a cop.”

“That’s what it was about?”

“Mostly. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Fabián; I just think he had suitors picked out for me. People he knew he could trust.”

“But they got along in the end, didn’t they?”

“Once Papá had got over himself, yeah.” Alejandra let out a nostalgic laugh, which Horacio quickly joined in with. “He could be tough when he wanted to be, but…he meant well,” she settled on. “Once he saw how happy I was and how Fabián had taken after his father with the farm, he came around. It was never personal with Papá. It’s just the way he was.”

“So, you don’t think he’d be disappointed in me…” Horacio paused to swallow, his throat drier than a Texan summer. “For quitting?” he got out eventually.

Alejandra gave Horacio a look he’d seen countless times over the years. One only a big sister could give her little brother when she had to feign ignorance of something she had already discovered for herself. The perks of being the eldest.

“How did you know?”

“Horacio, are you really asking that of someone who has been surrounded by cops all her life?”

Horacio rolled his eyes but let Alejandra have that one unchallenged.

“I thought you might have been discharged on medical grounds, to be honest. I hoped you’d seen sense. Or maybe met someone.”

“I wasn’t discharged, but I negotiated a payout after my injury.”

Alejandra released a self-satisfied hum, a whisp of a smile threatening to break free from the corners of her mouth. “Two out of three’s not bad, I suppose.”

Horacio gulped hard enough for Alejandra to hear; he had no doubt about that. But no words followed, not even when he caught her eye.

“You love him, don’t you?” It wasn’t an accusation or an interrogation. In fact, it was barely even a question.

“Yes.” It caught Horacio off guard how fast he answered. How direct and concise he’d been.

“And he loves you.” There was no pretence of a question mark now, but rather a clarification of a well-established fact. A rite of passage both parties needed to hear.

“He does.”

“Enough to walk away from it all, too.”

Horacio nodded, scared the lump in his throat would give way to something else as his glassy gaze met Alejandra’s.

“His father – Chucho – owns a ranch in Laredo, Texas. That’s where I went after…” he trailed off, not wishing to dwell on the finer details of the ambush. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you. I hated lying after everything we’ve been through. But I figured the less you and Mamá knew, the safer it was.”

“I had a feeling you’d left Colombia. But Texas?” Alejandra blew out a low whistle. “That’s the part we’ll need to prepare Mamá for.”

“They’re Mexican-American. And the ranch is right on the border by the river.”

“I’d lead with that part if I were you. Not sure you can avoid a lecture about fraternising with Spanish colonisers, though. Twice.”

“I got that the first time I moved over there. But she went quiet when I reminded her Madrid was good enough for Simón Bolívar.”

Alejandra’s shoulders shook in unison with Horacio’s until a comfortable silence fell between them.

“So, you were there a whole year?”

“Just over. I couldn’t do much to help for the first few months – whilst this healed.” Horacio flexed his right arm to prove to Alejandra that everything was back in working order. “But it was good to have a routine eventually.”

“Wait a minute…you worked on the ranch?”

“No need to sound so surprised when you live here. I was actually pretty good at it. And I liked it.” Although Horacio understood and returned his sister’s bemusement because even he had shocked himself.

“No, I’m not. It’s just…oh, Horacio...” Alejandra broke off to bring her hand to his cheek, her brow creased, but her eyes caught between being on the brink of a smile and tears. “Look at you.”

Horacio made a show of wiping away the suds from his cheekbone, hoping he wouldn’t still have an audience afterwards. But no such luck. “It’s not what I expected to happen – any of it. But it just....felt right. I know that probably doesn’t make sense.”

“Actually, it makes perfect sense.”

“Does it?”

“Well, for starters, I can see the appeal. Obviously. Can’t blame you for going for a younger man, either. And taller.”

Horacio rolled his eyes and hoped his face didn’t look as hot as it felt. “Not by that much. On either count.”

“Hey, no judgment from me. But seriously, of course, it makes sense. I know we all used to joke about you being married to your job, but…after Juliana, I did wonder if there was more to it than that.”

“I think burying myself in work killed two birds with one stone.”

“It was killing you.”

“I know.”

“And Papá would have told you the same.”

A hollow laugh escaped Horacio’s throat, Martínez’s words from the wedding still ringing intrusively in his ears. “I’d have been kicked out of the force. He’d have made sure of that. And I wouldn’t have blamed him.”

“Right, because you were the first officer on Colombian soil to commit violence or be used as a political weapon.”

“He was against it, Alejandra. La Violencia was enough for anyone to see in a lifetime.”

But that was just another in a long line of civil wars. Even if his father's life hadn’t been cut short, he would have seen yet another bloody outbreak in which the state did more to perpetuate the death toll than bring peace to the country. And Horacio had plenty of blood on his hands. At least his Papá was spared witnessing that.

“And you don’t think he was ever put in a compromising position back then? You don’t think La Violencia was why he didn’t want the same for you? You won’t remember much, and Mamá and Papá never spoke about it around us, but I got pretty good at listening through doors.”

“He never did talk about it. Even when I was older.”

Not that he really needed to, Horacio conceded. Even though they were kept relatively safe and away from the violence in Medellín compared to other regions of Antioquia – particularly the rural parts – he had heard enough over the years to fill in the blanks.

He remembered his Mamá’s stories of helping the displaced, those who sought refuge in the city. Thousands who had been forced to flee the violence and start over again, often in makeshift housing on the outskirts, the irony never lost on Horacio that one of those neighbourhoods became Comuna 13. But for all his Mamá’s tales and the work she continued to do until she left for Manizales, his Papá never spoke about those years.

“He was protecting you. Like Mamá was with us after he died. Sometimes silence is easier.”

“I know. I get it. Before he died, the cocaine trade hadn’t got going in Colombia yet. It was mostly marijuana. But with FARC around and the gringos spreading their anti-communist propaganda, he knew it was a question of when, not if, another war was coming. I think he hoped things would be different this time.”

“You did what you had to do, Horacio. Just like he did. Just like every generation of our family did to survive. What’s done is done.”

“I’m not sure you’d say that if you knew everything.”

“You think I never heard any of the rumours out here? Or picked up a newspaper once in a while?”

“You never said anything.”

Alejandra shot Horacio a cutting glare, the kind he was an expert at delivering, but only a select few could get away with throwing back at him. “I knew you wouldn’t talk about it even if I asked.”

Horacio scoffed. Touché. “Not all of it was true.”

It was Alejandra’s turn to laugh. “Well, I kinda figured you weren’t dead after you called.”

“I don’t just mean the ambush.”

“I know,” she said briskly.

But Horacio couldn’t ignore the relief in her body language. Even though he understood it, a wave of shame hit him for even planting a seed of doubt in her – his older sister, the mother of his nieces and nephews – mind in the first place.

“But that’s all in the past now,” he concluded, shutting down his own train of destructive thought. “And you’re right; Papá’s not here. But Javier is.”

“So your future’s in Laredo, then.”

“Are you mad?”

“Am I mad that my little brother is finally getting his shit together and is head over heels in love? Oh, yeah, I’m livid.”

An inferno had spread across Horacio’s cheeks, and he struggled to think of a response. But luckily for him, Alejandra wasn’t done yet.

“It’s…safe, though, right? For you both to live together?”

“As safe as anywhere else. Every country has its problems. I’m sure there’ll always be people with something to say. But we’ve been careful.”

“Just promise me you’ll keep being careful.”

“We will, I promise.”

“I can’t guarantee I’ll convince Mamá to visit in the summer, though.”

“That’s fair. But you do think she’ll want to visit?”

“She might be strong, but we know what she lost – what we all lost. So, if there’s a chance for you to share your life with someone as she did with Papá, to be safe – to be happy after everything – yeah, I think she'll want to visit.”

“Do you think Papá would if he could?” Horacio knew it was a loaded grenade of a question and unfair to ask. But he couldn’t help himself.

Alejandra hesitated, seemingly aware she was between a rock and a hard place. “Maybe in his old age. Or if he knew Javier saved your life.”

“How did –?”

She expelled a comedically dramatic sigh. “Keep up, manito. When you called, you told me the DEA came after you that night. I don’t need to hold a badge to guess who that was.”

Horacio was banged to rights once more as he tried to recall the exact information he had relayed to Alejandra in the hours after the ambush; evidently, it was more than he thought.

“He – and his partner, Steve – went against orders and got suspended for helping me and my men.”

“So, they took a leaf out of your book then?”

“Something like that.”

Before Horacio could overthink it, he took a deep breath and told Alejandra everything. From the blackmail to his and Javier’s resignations to their year in Madrid, it all came tumbling out whilst she kept washing and he kept drying. Just like old times. Just like their Papá was in the next room along with their Mamá. And in so many ways, he always would be, not as a ghost of their past, but forever a part of their present and future.

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Arriving during the week had its advantages, as it wasn’t necessary for Horacio to make excuses to get an early night. Work and school beckoned in the morning for most of the household, so the evening had ended in a low-key fashion.

That was more than fine by Horacio after a long drive and an overdue heart-to-heart. He lay on his side, his back nestled into Javier’s chest in the centre of the spare room’s double bed. They made up the fold-out bed for pretences, but it was purely extra space to store their luggage.

A bedside lamp and hints of moonlight peaking around the edges of the curtains cast the room in soft shadows, the low murmur of a telenovela in one of the nearby bedrooms the only sound to be heard at this hour.

“How old were you there?” Javier asked, his voice muffled against Horacio’s shoulder where he’d temporarily paused his trail of kisses after picking out one of several framed photos on the wall.

“The one from Alejandra’s wedding? I’d have been 24.”

“Cute curls.” Javier’s nose nuzzled against the back of Horacio’s head, which was sadly lacking the same unruliness as in the photo.

“Fuck you.”

Javier sniggered. “Hey, I was being serious! They suit you. Plus…more to grab hold of.” He slid a hand into Horacio’s hair as his mouth resumed its work along bare skin.

Horacio’s back arched with a sigh as he leaned into Javier’s touch. “You know we can’t get carried away. Not here.”

“I know.” Of course, Javier understood. It was one thing for him to have sneaked in and out of the guesthouse back in Laredo; it was quite another to be under the same roof as Horacio’s whole family. But that didn’t stop the almost petulant tone in Javier’s voice. He was still human, after all.

“I promise we’ll make up for it once we leave.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

Despite their flirtation, exhaustion was thick in their throats and pressed heavily on their limbs, pushing them closer towards sleep as the butterflies in their stomachs finally settled.

“The wedding wasn’t that long after Papá died. Alejandra asked me to give her away instead. At first, I didn’t think I deserved to take Papá’s place. But I think she needed me there with her, so, I said yes.”

“Of course you did, and I bet she never forgot that.”

“No, and I’ll never forget tonight."

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It was still dark in the spare room when Javier stirred and untangled himself from Horacio as slowly as possible. He had woken up thirsty and threw on a precautionary pair of jeans before tiptoeing down the wooden staircase towards the kitchen.

The clock on the oven read 01:30am, so he wasn't expecting to find the spotlights above it switched on. He searched through the cupboards until he found a tumbler and filled it with water from the tap, taking large gulps until the glass was drained.

“So, you’re a night owl too, then?”

“Shit!” Javier hissed, spinning around with a sharp intake of breath, almost dropping the glass on the tiled floor.

“Sorry,” Alejandra whispered. “I was just reading before heading off to bed.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine. I just needed some water. Didn’t think anyone else would be up.” Javier was suddenly very aware of the fact he was standing half naked in the middle of the kitchen, Horacio’s necklace like a flashing beacon at his chest. “Obviously,” he added with an awkward huff, looking down at his state of semi-undress.

“Right,” Alejandra replied with a stifled laugh. “How about you avoid catching a chill whilst I find something a bit more…authentic than tap water?”

Once Javier came back downstairs with his chest now covered, Alejandra was sat at the kitchen table with two shot glasses and a bottle of aguardiente.

“Not sure my stomach can handle any more of that after the wedding.”

“Lightweight. And just think of it as an initiation.”

Javier sighed in defeat, accepting the challenge as he took a seat opposite Alejandra.

She unscrewed the bottle and tipped measures into each glass. “Wanna make this more interesting?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Three shots, three questions each. But you can only ask a question after you’ve emptied your glass.”

Javier laughed for a second, unsure what he imagined Alejandra to be like, yet somehow, she surprised him anyway. “Okay. Already sounds better than every other icebreaker inflicted on me. Who goes first?”

“Guest’s choice.”

He stared down at his glass as though it was the barrel of a gun, remembering why he had eventually insisted whiskey was his and Horacio’s go-to drink. When he first arrived in Colombia, Horacio would offer him a shot, pouring liberally from the stash of aguardiente in his office drawer, and Javier accepted on multiple occasions. But it was over and done with like a spoonful of caustic medicine. At least whiskey could be drunk slower and delayed saying goodnight.

That wasn't the order of things now, though. So, Javier grabbed the bull by the horns and threw back his glass, wincing at the aniseed burn as it slid down his throat.

“New rule: you’ve got 30 seconds to come up with a question. Otherwise, you take another shot.”

“Alright, alright, I’m thinking.”

Alejandra’s gaze fell on the oven clock, ramping up the pressure. “10 seconds left…”

“Okay. I’ve got one. What was it like growing up with a younger brother?”

“Annoying, obviously. Especially after he got the highest grade in his English class. I don’t know where he picked them up, but he knew all the swear words. Of course. He drove me crazy testing them out.”

“He did that to my old partner, Steve – his Spanish isn’t great, and Horacio sure liked to remind him whenever he got the chance.”

“Sounds about right. No wonder he liked you – best of both worlds.”

“Maybe.” Javier knew what Alejandra meant, but it didn’t stop heat from spreading through his cheeks regardless.

“He was generally pretty quiet at school,” Alejandra continued, "but not afraid to take the lead…or break a few rules.”

“Again, I’m not surprised.”

“Nope.” They both laughed at that. “He always liked to be moving, though. Doing something with his hands. Or playing sports – he was a good runner. We used to race each other around Jardín Botánico, and he would always beat me. I think he already knew he was in training for the Academy. So, obviously, he was accepted. No doubt some thought he got a free pass, but he was determined to prove himself. Then he had to grow up.”

The joviality faded abruptly from Alejandra’s face, transforming into a wistful smile.

“We both did. But at least I’d had more time with Papá. Good job I did have those few years to myself ‘cos Horacio followed him around like a shadow. Until he couldn’t. Then he thought he had to be the man of the house. Even when there were two much more qualified women for the job.”

“He thought it was his duty."

“Yeah. He did.” There was something akin to awe in how Alejandra looked at Javier, as though she was simultaneously taken aback and impressed that someone summed up and understood her brother so accurately and succinctly.

“Isn’t it your turn, now?” Javier asked after a moment of silence.

Without further hesitation, Alejandra downed her shot. “Why Colombia?”

“Why not Colombia?” He tried a feeble laugh but knew that wouldn't cut it. “I studied Gabriel García Márquez in high school. Although, can’t say I really got him at the time. Took me another try when I was older.”

Now he thought about it, Javier wasn’t convinced he exactly got him the second time around either, considering García Márquez’s views on extradition aligned fiercely with Horacio’s. But that was the luxury of hindsight.

“By then, my Mamá had long since passed, my fiancée had just become my ex, and I had no fucking clue what I was doing with my life. Guess I needed to get lost in someone else’s problems for a while.”

“Tell me about it.” Alejandra held a book up in the air that had been abandoned on the table since Javier joined her.

“Smart move. My teacher loved telling us how García Márquez moved to Mexico and wrote One Hundred Years of Solitude over there. And with how things went down in Laredo, I could see the appeal of starting over in another country. Mexico was…too close to home. The drug war was getting out of hand. More and more agents were being transferred. And what’s the line?” Javier broke off, eyes cast towards the ceiling as he licked his lips in concentration. “‘We came’, they said, ‘because everyone is coming’.”

Alejandra let a pause of bewilderment pass between them as she studied Javier with intrigue. “You’re not at all like the other gringos he’s worked with in the past.”

“Did he bring any of them home to his family?”

“No. You’re the first. As I’m sure you're aware.”

“Maybe.”

“Drink up.”

Javier did as he was told, repressing a cough as the potent liquid worked its magic. “Why did you choose farm life over being a cop?”

Alejandra laughed a little too loudly, considering the time. “There are other career choices, you know.”

Javier gasped. “There are?”

“Hard to believe, isn’t it? But that’s not quite how it went for me. The farm came with Fabián. They’re sort of a package deal. I’m sure you can understand that.” She threw Javier a knowing smile. “But I ruled out being a cop years before I moved here or met Fabián. I knew from Papá that women in the force were few and far between back then. They’re still pretty scarce now. I wasn’t up for putting myself in the firing line being a General’s daughter. They never would have respected me or believed I got there on my own merit. I didn’t want to spend my life trying to gain anyone's approval.”

“Makes sense. It’s not easy in the force if you’re…different from the rest."

“Exactly. I’m not sure it’s what Papá even wanted for me anyway. Because he knew what it’d be like. Then there was Mamá with her social work. She was in her element. Always fighting someone’s corner, especially during the suffrage movement. I think I was the odd one out in the family, ‘cos everyone else seemed to have…a calling except for me. So, I studied, got a business degree, became a buyer for various companies and ended up in the coffee industry. And the rest is history.”

“Good for you. And I guess that explains Horacio’s, er, distaste for a badly made cup of coffee.”

“Yep. He’s got no excuse. And neither do you anymore.”

“I’ll bear that in mind. Your turn.” Javier took the bottle this time and filled Alejandra’s glass.

She downed it in one go. “¿Por qué no un llanero ahora que has descartado ser policía?” (Why not a llanero now you’ve ruled out being a police officer?)

“¿Por qué no un vaquero?” (Why not a vaquero?) Javier corrected with a glint in his eye that Alejandra returned with an eye roll. “Like you said…there are other jobs. That one was just never for me. I need more variety day-to-day. Like I’m making a bigger difference somehow. But preferably without the pretty fucking significant risk of death or blackmail.”

“A fair demand.”

“Right? It’s not like I’m asking for a raise.”

“When I moved here, I didn’t know where life was taking me, especially when the kids came along. I couldn’t keep my old job because of all the travelling…and being a mother was the priority until they started school. It took me a while to find my place on the buying and selling side of the business. So, all I’m saying is, things might get clearer once you’re settled back in Laredo.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Javier raised his glass and nodded his thanks to Alejandra, touched by her unprompted advice.

His third and final question had arrived, and the pressure to make it a good one pressed uncomfortably on his increasingly fuzzy head. “If your father was here now, what would you say to him?”

For a brief second, Javier feared he had overstepped some forbidden and invisible line and been overfamiliar with someone he only really knew by proxy at this stage.

But whilst Alejandra’s smile was permanently stained with traces of grief, warmth flickered then grew in her charcoal eyes. “I’d tell him we’re fine. That we miss him and wish he’d come back for good but that he needn’t worry. Because even though Mamá didn’t always get things right, she steered us through it as best she could. And we didn’t turn our backs on the world. That we found love in the dark.”

Alejandra sniffed and wiped the back of her hand across her nose. “Sorry. I think it’s the alcohol.”

“No, don’t be sorry.” Javier paused to clear his throat, blinking his vision back into focus. “It was beautifully said.” His hand reached for hers across the table, hoping again that he hadn’t gone too far.

But she let his hand rest there until she shook her head like a wet dog and poured her final shot. “Same question to you about your mother, obviously,” she said before downing the aguardiente in one.

Javier scoffed. “Well, I guess I deserved that.” He took his time, collecting his thoughts as though he was preparing an important speech. As though he’d been trying to find the right words for most of his life – and how rarely he’d succeeded.

“I’d tell her I miss her morisqueta. I’d tell her Pops visits her every week. But then I think she already knows that. Same way I think she made sure he never re-married.”

Javier couldn’t help but laugh, seeing with perfect clarity where his own loyal streak came from when his Pops was still as devoted to Mariana as the day they married. Siempre tuyo was no exaggeration.

“I’d make sure she knew he wasn’t alone, though. That he was known as Don Chucho to most in Laredo. That she’d be proud of him for growing the community she helped start. I’d brag about all the tamales we’ve made and quote her favourite poems. I’d introduce her to Horacio.”

He envisaged showing her Horacio’s poetry book, knowing that all it would take was for her to read Javier’s message in the opening pages to understand everything about who they were to each other. He’d even dreamed of it, waking with a ridiculous hope that she had somehow intercepted it.

“She sounds as incredible as your father. I hope one day I can thank him for taking my little brother under his wing when he needed it the most.”

“I’m sure that could be arranged.”

“I can’t – and don’t want to – imagine where he would have ended up without either of you, to be honest. He told me about the ambush…and everything else. And even though it doesn’t feel nearly enough, I just want to say...thank you.”

At first, Javier could only nod and swallow the lump bobbing at the base of his throat. “He did the same for me. It wasn’t easy walking away from my job, don’t get me wrong, but it was different for him. He felt like he’d betrayed Colombia and his Papá. Yet he did it anyway.”

“When it’s the right person, the sacrifices are worth it. And I can’t think of anyone more worthy of wearing that.” Alejandra’s sightline had fallen to Javier’s neck. His chest may have now been covered, but the silver chain still poked out from beneath the seam of his shirt.

She poured them a bonus shot each and raised her glass. “Welcome to the family.”

[sheep-from-rad]

Safe with me (SAGAU Scaramouche x reader) Note: Guess whose birthday is it(Oct 16)? Yes it’s mine and Xinyan!! My school might start face-to-face classes in November and honestly I am not feeling it. I wanna run away. Also, this is bordering platonic because Scaramouche is my baby like I heard his backstory and I went ‘screw this I’m adopting him’ PS. This fanfic looks better in my head. I wrote it and told myself...'wth did I just wrote' Warnings: injuries (non graphic), violence (non-graphic), OOC (you’ll see why) Masterlist 

Scaramouche let out a harsh command as his robot marched forward through the rainforests. Supposed he already gave up on everything and just started living his life a few months ago but the so-called heroes of this world just made him lose it. ‘I’m losing my mind’, Scaramouche thought. He never once thought that he will be working together with someone and that someone being the mighty traveler themself. Who would have thought that one fateful meeting would lead to this? 

Scaramouche staggered as he struggled to find a shelter from the coming rain. He is used to just resting wherever possible but he might not be able to fend himself right now if he becomes careless. Dottore has set him up for failure and he was basically using him as a scientific experiment. In this world, in order to get a material , one should pay a price or work hard for it and he knows that it will happen. His body felt like it was being torn and being made each and every day and at the end Dottore, much like his creator, threw him away after deeming his work insufficient. 

He cursed mentally as a group of fungi spotted him. He readied himself, ignoring the pain that bloomed when he drew his weapon. ‘I trained myself too hard’, he gritted his teeth. ‘I’m not gonna be defeated by mere plants’. One, two, three, four down. Scaramouche thought it was over until a hard push knocked him off his feet and into the ground. It would be nice if he just fell in the group, he can just easily get up but he was falling in the darkness. It was the same darkness when he was first betrayed, the only difference is that the thunder is not calling his name. 

Behind his giant mech, few people who named themselves as friends of the traveller are marching for the same cause: freeing their creator. He remembered the first time they both had a deep talk. They argue that they are not the creator and they are simply just like the traveller minus the flairs for battle. That one day they just woke up to a whole different world and the aranaras claimed them to be a god. Back then, Scaramouche wanted to hate them for allowing his creation but he remembered the old books inside Tenshukaku. 

It was a story of an ancient absent god whose name was forgotten by its people. They weren’t the original creator of the world but they are the god who nurtured and taught the people of kindness and knowledge of how to live. It was the story of an ancient absent god who was akin to the anemo archon: let the people have their freedom and will only interfere if the problem is really severe. It was a story of a god who everyone thought was dead but they have been missing for thousands and thousands of years. 

“You need to eat”, they said as they placed a bowl of freshly cooked food in front of him. It has been weeks since he has fallen down the Varuna contraption and is now adjusting to his new life together with talking vegetables. He eyed the food before turning away, opting to watch the aranara who was walking by. “I’m no human. I don’t need to eat.” It turned out that he was found by one of the arenas after he fell down the contraption and even though his identity is not known, they did not leave him alone. You sat across from him and turned to your own bowl. “Albedo is not human too but he makes good food and he really loves sweets”. 

Ever since he was found by the cute creatures, you have been taking care of him and won’t stop pestering him. “What if I’m evil and are actually out to kill you?” he muttered quietly but it did not miss your ear. “And then the aranaras won’t have found you.” You pushed the bowl closer to his form with a warm smile that never once left your lips. Guess he won’t really be able to push you away, huh? He picked up the utensil and took a small portion and the flavour immediately spread in his mouth. ‘I can get used to this.’ 

The city was abnormally quiet, there were no people in sight, which is weird because the researchers of the Akademiya never sleep. The chirping from the birds are louder now and they sound even more haunting now that there’s no people around. Scaramouche unmounts the robot with the traveller and their companion right behind him. “Doesn’t this silence remind you of something, traveller?” the small fairy in the group stated. “It’s like that time Dottore took control of everyone.” 

Scaramouche excitedly walked home carrying large bags of fruits and spices. While he is still a criminal, a few people around Sumeru have warmed up to him and they have not been trading plants every few weeks. This week he has meat that came from the ruler from the desert and spices from Gandharva ville. Maybe tonight they could try that curry recipe that the traveller gave them or maybe they could try some recipes from another nation. Scaramouche found himself as not a picky eater but he is biassed towards food that is rich in flavour like Chicken Tofu pudding. 

Instead of the aranara singing, he was greeted by the Varanara outside the dreams. Immediately worry started blooming in his chest, hands shaking, struggling to keep the large bags up. He fears he got abandoned again but it is impossible because they never once pulled away even though he showed bad behaviour. “Scara! You’re here!” Paimon screeched out. He is still getting used to their presence being friendly towards him but Paimon’s voice is something that for sure will take longer time. 

“What is happening?” he collected himself, looking at the tiny fairy who was flailing her equally tiny arms frantically. She rubbed her head in confusion (or was it being unable to word out what just happened?), ready to spat out everything in a scrambled pot of words but she was saved by the traveller who is brandishing a bloodied sword with them. 

“Our enemies took them.” 

Their group climbed the stairs towards the akademiya and they were greeted by mind controlled citizens. “The two of you go up!”Cyno shouted. “Alhaitham and I can handle them!” The traveller gave them a nod as they ran further up. Scaramouche swears that if they touch a single hair on their head, he will go berserk. The moment Dottore let go of him months ago, a new project has started: breaking the original god to gain control of the whole Teyvat and that is one project that he will prevent with his both hands if it ever happens. 

“I know you were going to come”, Dottore and his masked self emerged from the door. It is just them, Dottore, and the traveller now. Scaramouche drew his weapon, ready to fight his former colleague anytime now. “Let them go”, he warned. Dottore only smiled at the two of them. “What for? If you don’t know it yet, you’re the one that leads them to us. Tsaritsa would be so proud of you.” 

Cyno and Alhaitham joined their ranks and soon a few fatui joined Dottore as well. “If you want your god back and then you might as well have a duel with me.” Mentally, Scaramouche sighed. ‘What are you going to do? Slap me with a textbook?’ 

“You know the sky is not real right?” Scaramouche found them sitting on top of the giant leaves. You only smiled at him, putting a finger on your lips and then looking at the sleeping Aranara on your lap. Time passes weirdly inside Varanara given that it is located inside a dream and a day inside there might just be an hour outside. Scaramouche will not admit it but if a world locked between a dream and a frozen time could give him love that he didn’t get and then he will gladly stay inside forever. 

“Many moons ago, the sky was so dark that people were scared to even look at the night sky”, you started. Scaramouche took the space on your side, resting his head on the giant leaf as he stared at the sky. “Some people, due to fear, even said that the sky is cursed and it beckons evil if you stare long enough on it.” You gently put the sleeping Aranara down next to him. “While everything outside this dreamworld is fake, it is still good to find something that is worth living for right?” 

Bodies after bodies fall but the numbers don't go down. The more people they fight, the more comes up. The group is not fighting the controlled people using their weapons but they instead just hit the best points to render them unconscious. They can’t really kill anyone so the best option they can do is to dodge their weapons. It’s strange how Dottore was able to control everyone just by using the Akasha terminal but then again the people of Sumeru had it coming. 

“Scaramouche behind you!” 

Scaramouche turned around to see Dottore running to him in full speed with sword on hand but before he could even get close, a giant dome of dendro enveloped him, taking him away from everyone. “I can lead you to them but you need to grab them fast”, he recognized the voice as the Dendro Archon herself. 

“Why should I trust you?” he asked. He doesn’t have trust in anyone, especially archons. The dendro archon could be trapping him right now as they talk and he can’t help but raise his weapon. “I may not be as powerful as the other archons but I will never let my voice let someone astray.” In a flash he found himself deep within the Akademiya’s library and before he knew it, Scaramouche was running. 

Way before the three moons hang in the sky, the world is enveloped in darkness. Humans prosper within daylight but whenever the sun goes down fear and terror also prospers. Alarmed, a young god of kindness and humility from above the sky asked the highest for their favour: they asked for the stars and the moons. Soon, the night is loved like people do when the sun is out but the young god knows the rule of the world. IF you want something, you have to pay the price. The bigger the demand, the bigger exchange. 

Soon, the young god is now walking alongside mortals. They taught everyone how to be safe at night, how to take care of everyone, and most of all how to be kind. But nothing in this world stays the same. People rose to power, so did the newer gods. With Violence and bloodshed and teachings of kindness all forgotten, the young god then vanished. 

He didn’t waste any time to take them out of the structure that they are currently sleeping in. “I’m going to take you and everyone away from here. I will handle my people.” He heard the dendro archon once again speak before they got transported near Varanara. Maybe Varanara needs to be locked in the dream longer to keep everyone safe. 

Taglists: @uchihaeirin | @chihawari | @tinandabin

@eccedentesiast-sapphic | @zuri-feather

[snezario]

Power Outage; Vo/x

This took so much longer than I anticipated and I kind of got frustrated with it towards the end so it's not proofread at all. The scenario is based off an anon ask I got about a month ago.

Nursing a steaming mug of coffee, Vox plods his way down the spiral staircase from his penthouse. He drags a tired hand down his screen as he stands in front of the door to the room he had been heading towards. It looked plainer than he remembered it. Best get to it. He wraps his hand around the doorknob and enters the room.

The motion sensors detect his presence immediately (at least those were still working) and the overhead light flickers on to illuminate the mess of an office–files scattered along the floor, various colored sticky notes on the desk, and an outdated computer. He squints at the harshness of the fluorescent lighting. After his screen adjusts to the lighting, he places his mug down on a free spot on the messy desk and surveys the room.

It had really been some time since he spent time in his private office, rather than in front of his multitude of screens. Especially after upgrading his personal hardware and software, he didn’t see the need to be down here anymore. 

He had to be very careful moving shit around with the amount of dust coating all the surfaces. Vox mentally berates himself, closing any unnecessary vents. Why oh why did he not send his personal assistant to grab the file? Gingerly sifting through the folders, he lets out a frustrated sigh. Of course, he wouldn’t have left out a file of this importance just strewn amongst these mundane ones.

Vox gazes around the room, thoughtfully tapping his clawed fingers along the bottom of the screen. His gaze finally falls upon a dingy metal cabinet, with a stack of folders perched on top, nestled in the far corner of the room. Bingo. The television demon saunters over to it and reaches to grab the drawer handle, frowning when it doesn’t open immediately. He grunts as he tugs harder on the handle but the drawer won’t budge. His eyebrows knit together after he gives  a couple more forceful pulls.

Sighing when his efforts prove fruitless, he crosses his arms in front of his chest as he glares at the stubborn storage container. Does he even really need it? He has half a mind to give up the venture and get back to preparing for tonight’s broadcast. No, he came all the way down here to fetch the file and he’s not about to leave the room without it.

Marching back over to the cabinet, he rolls up his sleeves and grasps the handle with both hands, one leg against the cabinet and one anchored to the floor. Put your back into it you prissy fuck! Vox grits his teeth as he yanks the handle with a truly unnecessary amount of force. Aha! The drawer squeaks as it finally gives way, a grating sound to Vox’s audio system but he’s grateful because it indicates to him the sweet, sweet sound of success.

However, Vox’s triumph is short-lived. His eyes widen with excitement that quickly devolves into horror as the cabinet drawer finally bursts open and the tower of folders on top of it teeters dangerously before toppling over. It all happens faster than he can react and before he knows it, the whole stack of dust-laden folders smacks him in his face. Shitshitshit.

Vox swallows uncomfortably watching the dust motes swirling in front of him as a result of the commotion. He really was beginning to regret coming down here. That’s what he gets for neglecting to assign cleaning staff to this office, despite not having used it in several years.

It was just a bit of dust, no biggie. Or so he thought all those years ago when he first found himself in the chaotic realm of Hell. Turns out that he and dust don’t really mix. He learned the hard way that despite the excitement and power that came with his abilities, they tended to go haywire at a time like this—as in, he had no control over them whatsoever when he sneezed but especially when he suffered from an allergic reaction.

The delicate skittering across his internal wiring is becoming harder to ignore. He’s pretty certain he’s overthinking it but it feels like someone blew dust directly into his vents because of how itchy it feels back there. At this point it won’t be long before–hh! Vox feels his screen glitch which accompanies the breathy hitch that spells the end of days. Without an actual nose, he can’t really quell the tickle either and no amount of holding back ever did him any good. After a few more decidedly desperate gasps, Vox snaps forward.

“hh–hhZZSHHH! ih…ihh? H-hell… ihh’ZCHH’uh! ”

Vox groans after the outburst, slumping in the desk chair as he scrubs at his screen. The tickling feeling is quite literally beyond his reach, given that the sensation is rooted in his internal wiring. Sure he could try and get back there but what exactly would he be able to do. There was also a high likelihood that he would damage something vital. Especially with how persistent the tickle is. What made it worse was he could never stop at just one, it always had to be at least two or three minimum.

“ehh'ZZTCHHhiew! hihh'TSHHH’uh! hhKTSHH! Guh…” Vox pants, hunched over in the chair as the trio of sneezes leaves him winded. His reprieve is short-lived as a shaky inhale escapes his throat, and he finds himself pitching into his elbow as the sensation peaks again, “ih…ih’DTSSHhhuh! hh’Z̶̨̛̙͙̱̤̰͋̊̋́͊̓Z̷̬̞̦͕̦̃̃̆̿̊̃͌̐̅̍͊͐̒̑̚Ş̷̧͍̺̯̘̱̯̱̈͛͑̔͐̋̊͝H̷̡̦̤̘͓͓͓͎̳͉͎̘̒H̶̹̼̣̦̍H̸̠̞̹̻̘̗͉̼͍̄́́̕hiew!”

He frowns when sparks shower him as the overhead light fixtures burst, engulfing him in darkness. It’s only momentary, as the emergency lights kick in. A warm yellow glow fills the room since these lights utilize an older type of lightbulb, but Vox isn’t sure they’re exactly protected from his involuntary outbursts.

The television demon jumps as Velvette slams open the door. He hazards a glance at his business partner while avoiding eye contact. She is positively fuming. He’s actually surprised she knew he was her, given that she wasn’t around when he even used this office.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Velvette?” Vox flashes her a sharp grin and tries to keep his voice level while he plays dumb.

“Oh piss off! You know exactly why I’m here, Vox,” the social media Overlord snaps at him, her hands on her hips.“The ceiling lights in my department flickered a bit, which isn’t usually cause for concern. But a couple minutes later it happened again and then the whole fucking floor lost power. We were going to reroute power from the floor above but it looks like that’s out too. Care to explain yourself?” She taps her foot rapidly as she waits for him to make up an excuse. 

“N-nothing you can’t h–hh!–andle,” Vox tries to dismiss her concern with a wave of his hand. Velvette’s eyes narrow at the audible hitch in his voice, which he had hoped would have gone unnoticed.

“I swear to fuck, if you blow out the power on another floor–” Velvette warns him as Vox visibly struggles to keep a lid on the feathering in his head. He chuckles nervously, taking in Velvette's imposing demeanor. He really didn’t want to get into it with Velvette. Due to her smaller stature between the Vees, Val was a fucking bememoth of a demon as it was, Sinners tended to dismiss her. A huge mistake on their part, she was the youngest Overlord for a reason, which is why Vox had taken her under his wing as she began acquiring power.

He presses a hand to the back of his head, against the vent that’s been giving him the most trouble. A futile attempt of course, as the irritation in question is far deeper in his components.

“ihh'TZZSHh! Fhh–ucck me… hh’DTCHhieew! hih’IZZSHuh! ehh’Z̴̠̮͛̓̃̾͂D̴̞̳̕Ṱ̵̬̭͉̒̾C̸̘̠̥̝͓͌̊̎͝͝C̷͖̫͚̫̩̈́Ḣ̸̥̮͝Ȟ̴̡͇͚̟̈̓̂͝!”

The lights in the office momentarily dim but remain intact. Small victories. On the floor immediately above them, Vox can hear a cacophony of sounds–no doubt caused by his latest fit. Vox pinches the middle of his screen where the bridge of his nose would have been. Never before did he want a nose as much as he did right now. At least he knew how to deal with it, but this was something else.

“THAT’S IT!”

Vox’s pupils shrink as the younger Overlord stomps over to him.

“N-now, Velvette let’s take a moment–” The television demon stammers, his screen glitching slightly, as she swiftly crosses the room. The expression on her face is beyond annoyance now. She backs him into a corner of the room. Despite being a whole head shorter than him, Vox shrinks under her glare as she looms over him menacingly. The intense magenta glow of her eyes are the last thing he sees before everything goes dark.

Valentino looks up lazily from the show he was watching as Velvette slams open his door. His gaze tracking her trajectory as she trudges past him to flop on the couch beside him with an exasperated sigh. He takes a long drag from his cigarette, before nonchalantly blowing the ruby colored smoke into the air. “Seems like you got Vox under control.”

Velvette scoffs and rolls her eyes, before returning her gaze back to her phone, which she is simultaneously posting on her Sinstagram, ordering the two of them takeout, and texting 3 other sinners. “No thanks to you. But I couldn’t have him short-circuiting and causing another city-wide blackout.”

“So… what happened?”

“I just knocked him out,” Velvette says in a very matter-of-fact tone.

“With a sedative?” Valentino raises an inquisitive brow.

“Something along those lines,” Velvette finally looks up from her phone and smirks mischievously at Valentino, whose eyes widen at her coy response.

“Crisis averted, I suppose. I have a couple of whores already tending to repairs on the affected floors.” Valentino shrugs and goes back to scrolling on his phone.