Just Write It Out

The past week had been just as delightful as the previous few, with learning more things about both Nero and V and cementing your understanding of specific likes and habits they each held during certain times of the day.

V almost always was ready for a nap by one, though sometimes he fought it for no longer than half an hour before he was falling asleep where he stood. He preferred sweet snacks over savory, and most times it was fruit he wanted over candies and ice cream. When he needed quiet time, he enjoyed reading books he could understand and liked to color and draw.

Nero had a habit of getting himself stuck in something at least twice during each of your watchful shifts. He was definitely more on the messy side when it came to food and play, but he was always helpful in cleaning up his messes. No snack was safe from his voracious appetite, and it seemed he enjoyed savory snacks over sweet ones, though certainly wouldn't turn down a scoop of double-chocolate fudge with sprinkles, if you offered.

When together, Nero tended to lead in play, always ready for an adventure of his own making. V enjoyed playing along, but he also preferred to be an avid listener, always marveling at Nero’s made-up stories and sometimes giving his own ideas to help along the narrative.

Each moment felt rather precious to you, watching how they interacted, how they adapted to each other seamlessly, even during small tiffs and heated debates. Growing up together gave them ample time to learn how the other worked, and gentle guidance from their fathers helped them understand how to handle any differences they had, and it was truly a sight to behold.

If anyone were to ask, however, your favorite time with the boys was bedtime, though not because they were being put to sleep. It was the act itself, the readying cycle of bath-time, jammies, stuffies, and books that brought a sense of peace to your mind. It was watching the boys settle for the night, swiping at sleepy eyes and hiding long yawns to keep you reading their favorite stories. It was the pull of your heart each time at seeing just how peaceful they were in sleep, how quickly you had come to the realization that you would do anything and everything in your power to keep them both happy and safe for as long as you could.

You enjoyed your time with them so immensely that it hardly ever felt like you were getting paid to watch over them. Babysitting Nero and V wasn’t just a job, it was another part of your daily life, a part that had integrated so soundly within your schedule.

It was unfortunate, then, that your time with them was coming to its end.

Granted, you hadn't even noticed that your one month trial was up, nor did it seem as if Dante or Vergil had, either. You’d been given two extra days without anything said about parting ways, and it wasn't until after you had said your goodbyes that final evening with a “Call you up soon!” from Dante that you really noticed the date.

Was it a sign, then, that you were there to stay? Maybe they had decided you were a valuable asset, after all, and planned to keep you around! It was a promising thought, one that put a little bounce in your step on the way home and kept a smile on your face until you fell asleep, awaiting the inevitable call for your services the next day.

—

The next day, your phone stayed silent.

The following day, there was no call.

The day after that, nothing

By day four, you started believing the extra two days past your one-month agreement were just a fluke, a lapse in time-management and not realizing your impromptu employment was up. By day five, you began coming to terms with the fact that you were no longer needed, and that…that really hurt in a way you hadn't known it would. 

What was it you expected, really? Dante had only been able to guarantee you a month, and you were lucky to be considered for the position, in the first place, considering neither Dante or Vergil had advocated for having a babysitter.

The job itself had been nothing short of a miracle, on your part, and now…

And now…

Your heart felt heavy as you thought about the boys. They had gotten comfortable with you so quickly, had given you their trust and patience and love just as much as you had given them your everything. It had been only a month, yes, but being their babysitter, having them in your life after the devastation of-

Your hand immediately gripped at the pendant around your neck, an attempt to ground yourself outside the wreck of your whirling emotions.

Did they know you were just a temporary fixture in their lives?

Did they know you weren't coming back?

Day five was really doing a number on you, enough so that you had called Naomi to vent and have a cry. She was outraged on your behalf for a short moment, though most of the call was her listening and comforting your woes, assuring you that things would work out and to have a little faith in not only the world, but in yourself.

Naomi was always the light you needed in dark times, and after the call, you felt much less upset, a little more numb, and just overall exhausted. Sleep came to you easily, but your dreams felt melancholy with wants of what you no longer had.

Waking up on day six of no call from your now previous employers still had you upset, but you felt more resolute with your next plan of action. Your bills weren't gonna pay themselves, and while you were lucky to have just enough for another month of rent, you barely had much more for food and utilities. The local paper had a few job listings to look at, and after a few calls to places that seemed hopeful but lacklustre, you had secured a couple of same-day interviews.

With a little more vigor in your step, you quickly showered, dressed, and downed some juice before grabbing your tote bag and keys. Just shy of reaching the door knob, you hesitated, reaching into your pants pocket to retrieve your phone to look at the front screen.

No new messages or missed calls.

Part of you wondered if you should just swallow your anxieties and give Dante a ring, see if what you thought was actually true or if they just hadn't needed you since the last time. Part of you didn't want to go through that disappointment, feeling that six days with nothing was as sure a sign as any.

Despite the new hole in your heart, it was time to move on, however much you really didn't want to.

Walking out the door felt like dragging your feet through sand, and try as you might, you couldn't shake away the thoughts of how much you missed what you had hoped would become a more permanent fixture in your life.

—

Your luck was really turning around, it seemed.

The first interview, though a bit short, had gone rather well, though there were definitely others waiting outside the main office for the same outcome as you. It was the second interview that made you feel much more confident, and the manager had already taken a shine to your personality. It was enough that you were given an apron with the company’s logo sewn into the fabric and asked to be back tomorrow for a trial run to see how you got on with everyone else.

It wasn't something you were super excited to work, but it was at least a job that would definitely pay your bills and put food on the table. You wouldn't necessarily make enough to save up much, but if you continued looking, maybe you could find a second job that could work with your newly acquired hours, or even a better paying job down the road that would keep you from being dead on your feet, or maybe-

All thoughts came to a quick pause as you rounded the final flight of stairs leading to your apartment on the third floor. Your body had been on autopilot since leaving your new potential job, mind too busy doing some rough calculations and future-related pondering to register much outside of the well-practiced steps that led you home.

You blinked once, twice, before the feeling of dread hit you like a freight train.

The door to your apartment was wide open.

Immediately, you began going back through your morning, recalling every move you made before leaving.

You grabbed your tote bag, checked for your wallet, grabbed your keys and your phone. You stopped at the door, checked your phone one more time before opening the door and shutting it, shifting your keys in your hand and locking the door…

Your phone was in your hand before you could even register you were moving, but as you flipped it open and made to call the police, the screen flashed and froze in place, refusing to dial out. Smacking it against your palm did nothing to fix the issue, and restarting it meant having to wait for the old thing to boot up properly.

“Shit,” you cursed under your breath, pocketing the useless device and steeling yourself while slowly climbing the last few steps that immediately led into the short hallway lined with other apartments, yours being right across from the stairwell.

From what you could see, nothing looked like it was out of place. Your small couch was in the right spot, the boxy television and VCR hadn't been taken from the tiny table you used as the entertainment center, and your meager valuables that you had on display hadn't so much as been disturbed. Everything was just as you left it, save for the door. It was a relatively good sign, but one you were more than wary of.

The smart thing to do would have been to go to one of your neighbors, knock on their door and ask for help. What you chose to do, instead, was slowly make your way into your apartment as quietly as possible, intent on finding a weapon and reaching the landline phone that was weirdly placed in the kitchen.

Each step you took was slow and calculated, eyes darting around to ensure nothing shifted as you traversed the short space between front door and kitchen. As luck would have it, you had a rolling pin set up on display beside the stove, only lightly used - a perfect weapon, should you need it. You reached for it, carefully extracting the heavy wooden utensil from the display pegs it rested on, wincing as one of the pegs just barely lifted and tapped against the faux marble countertop, just loud enough for you to hear.

Two, three, five seconds went by, and you let out a long, quiet breath you hadn't realized you’d been holding. Armed and feeling a little more secure, all you needed to do was reach for the landline phone hanging on the opposite wall, call the police, and make your way back out to avoid any possible danger that still lurked about.

As soon as you reached out, however, your shoulder was grabbed without so much as a sound of warning. Immediately, your fight-or-flight kicked in, and you were twisting and swinging the rolling pin with intent before you could even scream out. Contact was made, but it was because your assailant had caught your weapon mid-swing as your other arm was being grabbed to contain you.

Fear clouded your mind in that split second, enough that you froze and stared up at who you assumed would be your murderer soon enough.

Familiar, dazzling baby blues stared back at you, in turn.

“Jeez, babe, can’t say I've had a rolling pin to the face before, but you sure came close to being the first.”

“D-Dante?”

You honestly couldn't believe your eyes, for a moment. Of all the possibilities that raced through your mind since finding your apartment broken into, having Dante smiling down at you devilishly as he carefully disarmed you was not one of them.

“What…wh-why are you here? What’s going on?”

“Perhaps you could tell us,” was spoken from behind Dante, who stepped back and slightly to the side to reveal his brother standing just outside the kitchen, hand resting at the hilt of his katana and looking every bit as intimidating as he’d always been since coming to know him.

Virgil had come, too?!

“I don’t understand,” you rushed out, utterly perplexed, hands coming up to your head as if it pained you to think. As it was, your heart was beating a mile a minute, adrenaline still spiked and anxiety through the roof.

“Are you here because I was robbed? Or, well, not robbed, but someone broke into my home!”

“That would be me,” Dante said within a sigh, and you were sure your eyes had grown to the size of saucers.

“You?”

“We knocked, first,” he assured as he tossed your decorative rolling pin from hand to hand, “but when you didn't answer, we took a few liberties to get in. Had to make sure you were alright, and all. The boys were worried, too, ya know.”

The fear inside you was quickly morphing into that of confusion and disbelief.

That morning, you had made peace with knowing you wouldn't be seeing either one of the demon hunters or their sons ever again, and yet both Dante and Vergil were there, standing before you and admitting they had broken into your apartment under the assumption that…that you were hurt? That something was wrong in some way?

“I don’t…what do you mean by that?” you giggled out nervously. “Why wouldn’t I be alright?”

It was their turn to look confused, silvered brows rising as if you had grown a second head.

“You’ve not answered our calls,” Vergil spoke up, stepping just a bit closer. “We’ve contacted you no less than five times. When you did not answer the call to your landline this morning, actions were taken to find you.”

You looked over at the landline phone, an unassuming pale blue with an aged, springy cord, no voicemail box attached, no screen to show the missed call that must have happened after you left for your interviews. Your cellphone, though more advanced, was no better, and you were damning the smaller pieces of junk in your pants pocket that felt more like a brick than anything useful.

“I left this morning,” you began rambling, pacing the old kitchen tiles as you tried collecting your thoughts, “because I hadn’t…I needed to find a job to pay rent!”

“How much do you pay for this place, anyway?” Dante mused, unimpressed as he looked around your small, meager abode.

“And it worked last night,” you continued, almost ranting. “I called Naomi and cried about, ugh, but there were no missed calls! I checked every day for nearly a week! I thought…my month was up, so I thought…”

I thought you didn't need me anymore.

Now that you were saying it aloud in front of them, you found it hard to finish saying what you had assumed to be true. If anything, you were beginning to feel embarrassed with how attached you had gotten in such a short amount of time. Maybe Naomi had been right to worry about you; maybe you had become too emotionally involved, and it was causing you to crash out.

Maybe it felt like losing him all over again, and the realization was nearly paralyzing, enough so that you couldn't find the will to reach for your pendant for comfort.

“My m-month was up, so I thought this was your way of letting me go.”

The brothers looked at each other, their confusion nearly as palpable as your own.

“That would have been a shit way to tell you you're fired,” was Dante’s immediate outward response.

“It wouldn't have been the first time it's happened to me,” you admitted, desolate, arms crossing in front of you in a self-contained embrace. “I thought, maybe, you’d both be more forward with telling me, but it's been six days with nothing. It’s never been longer than a day or two. And this whole time, my stupid phone was to blame.”

“Probably about time you fixed that problem, don't you think?” Dante all but smirked, looking much more amused about the misfortune that was your life. If you were on the outside looking in, it probably would have been a little comical. In the moment, you barely felt put together.

You scoffed at his cheeky reply, feeling a little bitter about the stupidity of it all.

“Need a decent job to get that kind of money saved up to do it.”

“Well, it's a good thing you have one.”

“Do I?”

You hadn't meant for your question to sound nearly despondent, but it was hard to believe that, after all this fuss and effort, you were still wanted by them to babysit their sons. It hadn’t been the first call you had missed before, and with your luck, it wouldn't be the last until you could find a way to either fix your phone or buy a new one.

As you were in that moment, you were unreliable, which meant you weren't a good fit for when they needed you, which could have been at any time.

The brothers shared another look, one amused, one confirming.

“No complaints from me. Verg?”

Your gaze landed on that of intense icy blues staring you down.

“Though I was defiant in the need for a babysitter, I cannot deny that V and Nero have been thoroughly taken care of under your watchful eye. We have also been given opportunities for more cases, more difficult ones, because of you. I see no reason to end your tenure so quickly when we all benefit accordingly.”

“Great, then it's settled,” Dante said with an enthusiastic clap of his hand against the rolling pin he still held on to. “Besides, I doubt the boys would let us off the hook if we just fired you without a good reason. Luckily for everyone, a faulty phone is the least offensive charge.”

The room grew quiet as you took in everything, processing what they were saying through molasses. As their words caught up to your brain, your chest tightened, and the hot prickle of tears began at the corners of your eyes at the realization that everything wasn’t as broken as it seemed.

“I’m still…? When…when do you need me?”

“Tonight, if you can swing it,” Dante answered, finally relenting his hold on the rolling pin and placing it on its pegs, “though I’m seriously considering showing you how to use a gun, sometime soon. Rolling pin’s a decent choice of defense, don’t get me wrong, but it’s not gonna do much against a demon attack.”

You gave a guffaw of a laugh, half amused and half attempting to keep yourself from letting out all your emotions in front of the duo. The adrenaline was wearing off fast, leaving you emotionally compromised and in need of a space to cry without judgement. Not that you thought they would judge you, just…it would be weird having a full on breakdown in front of your bosses.

“I can do that,” you assured, sniffling while wiping at one of your eyes. “I’ll just need a minute to, ah, grab a couple things, get changed, I guess?”

“Sure thing,” Dante replied assuredly, “but first things first.”

He stepped closer, much closer than you had expected, and placed a hand against your upper arm, thumb swiping over your exposed skin once in a comforting gesture. The motion was rather grounding and brought you a sense of ease you hadn’t felt in days.

“You’re good?” he asked with searching eyes, looking you over for a quick moment before settling his gaze on your own.

You pressed your lips into a thin line while taking a breath in and letting it out slowly, nodding your head as you answered.

“Y-yeah. Yeah, I’m good.”

“Good. We’ll meet you outside.”

Dante stepped away and turned to follow his brother, who had already made to leave. You almost felt silly for missing the warm contact of his hand, not nearly as silly for the whole situation you had found yourself in.

Your luck was really turning around, indeed.

“Oh, by the way!”

Looking towards the door, you saw Dante lingering against the frame, looking over the latch before giving a cheeky grin.

“Gonna have to get the landlord out to fix that deadbolt. Some crazy guy kicked in the door and broke it.”

With a wink that could only be dastardly mischievous, he turned and continued his merry way down the stairwell and out of site, leaving you to handle your personal business before you joined them.

$1 USD for every 100 words (so if you want 1,000 words, it would be $10 USD), and I'm almost guaranteed to go over whatever word limit is set!

NSFW allowed.

Usually written with a reader-insert, 2nd person.

Fandoms I can write for include, but not limited to:

Devil May Cry

Jujutsu Kaisen

Bleach (excluding the Thousand Year Blood War arch/characters atm)

Detroit: Become Human

If there is a fandom you know I've written for, or a character from a fandom not listed above, ask me about it, and we might be able to work something out! I've written one-offs of characters from fandoms I'm not a part of, and I'm pretty flexible.

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Full transparency

Complete conversation about what it is you want, any details you'd like to see, before I begin

Updates on progress and word count

Several snippets of the writing process, if you want them

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When you heard about him, the first thing that came to mind was that he must have been foreign, considering his name and the way others had described him to you. It wasn’t but roughly a week later that you formally met him at your place of work, the town library, and he was every bit the wonder others had made him out to be.

It felt…off to you, but you couldn’t quite explain why.

Father Ren was just as kind and gentle as your next door neighbor had described, just as charming as the owner of the local barber shop had suggested when conversing with him in the non-fiction section. The priest’s smile was lovely, and his eyes were warm when he greeted you upon your first meeting, but even so, you found it incredibly odd to have such a person be so…perfect in almost every way.

“It would be a pleasure to have you join us for Sunday’s service,” he told you one afternoon as he checked out a book, something on mythological applications in historic events, or something along those lines. It honestly didn’t seem like the type of book a priest would be interested in, but you weren’t sure what a priest should have been interested in, in the first place, besides the God he spoke for.

“I’ll…I’ll think about it,” you told him, moreso to not offend the priest with an outright no.

His smile didn’t falter, but it also didn’t feel as if it reached his eyes the way you had seen on others.

“Of course, there’s no obligation, though it’s always nice to have a new face join us for the good word. You have a blessed day.”

And that was that. There was no forceful word of God to smite you for not going, no reprimanding for not confessing your sins or renouncing your blasphemous ways and joining the congregation. He didn’t prattle on or bore you to death with scripture, he just gave a suggestion and, as people of the faith often did, blessed your day and went about his business.

It was refreshing, honestly, and though you couldn’t say you were the religious type, it was nice to have a priest who didn’t want to force you into the town’s religion when you were nothing close to a believer of things that felt almost supernatural in nature.

The nightmares that began to plague you, however, began to test what little faith you had.

You’re not sure when they started, the haunting dreams that were so vivid, they felt real in nature. It had to have been some time after the new priest came to town, some time after you met him, though at that moment, there was no reason for you to believe there was any correlation nor had it even crossed your mind.

They started relatively the same, your dreams, with you lazing in bed on the cusp of sleep, almost as if you hadn’t quite fallen asleep yet. For the first couple of dreams, there was a flicker of darkness, short and quick enough to believe it was nothing more than a flutter of your eyes. The darkness would manifest into something more solid, some days after, a shadow of a being that you could not fully make out, but could feel the presence of, all the same.

It frightened you terribly, enough that you would cower in your dream and curl yourself up to keep away from whatever it was that was in your line of sight.

The first night it fully manifested, it did nothing but watch you with unseen eyes, towering over you as you stared at its hazy visage in fear. You attempted to move away, crawl out of bed and make a hasty retreat, but whenever you opened a new door or turned the next corner, it would be there, watching you with deep interest.

The second night, it grew bolder and reached out to you with newly formed limbs, its hand touching your leg. You let out a horrified scream and pulled away, startled that it had attempted more than just follow you around and stare. Just like the first night of its full manifestation, neither your fear nor you moving away deterred it from reaching out again and full on grabbing your ankle, yanking you closer even as you kicked and struggled in its hold. For the remainder of that dream, it continued to pull you closer by your ankle, your leg, petting over your skin as you shook in its hold.

The night after, it continued to touch you, though it wasted no time in bringing you much closer and holding you to its body of darkness, squeezing you to it no matter how much you struggled to get away.

For every night following, the figure in your dreams became bolder, more assertive, even more real. Its hands touched you everywhere, and its mouth, unseen by your eyes, began to make itself known to you. It pressed to your skin in what you could only assume were some form of kisses, small presses of unseen lips that became more firm and more demanding as time passed. Before long, you could feel teeth, and despite your screams and cries for it to stop, you could sense the satisfaction that came from the creature that haunted your very dreamscape with each nibbling bite against your skin.

Each morning you woke up, it was an instant relief, though as the dreams began to feel more and more real, the more you began to feel drained of energy and paranoid beyond belief. Your paranoia heightened when one morning, as you were getting ready for work, you found marks along your neck. They were faint the first time you noticed them, almost shadows of bruises from an unknown source. Within another three days, there were far more marks, purpled and properly bruised and right in the areas you remembered the dream entity had bitten.

There was no way…there was absolutely no way that was possible, and yet the proof was there, staining your skin for the whole world to see. You, obviously, tried to rationalize it; maybe it was actually a rash, or maybe, somehow, you were marking yourself in your sleep, clawing at your flesh as the nightmares continued to plague you.

Surely, you were losing it.

If you were to tell anyone of what you were experiencing, they would think you were crazy. Dreams couldn’t hurt you, they weren’t even real. Dreams weren’t supposed to cause damage, at least not physically, but there was no other explanation as to why you were marked up like some harlot from a bad romance novel.

For a while, you kept your nightly troubles to yourself, waking every morning just a bit more tired, just a bit more paranoid, just a bit more sore. You would hide the bruises and marks with make-up, turtle-necks, and scarves, only thankful that it didn’t seem out of place in the cooler weather of the mid-autumnal season. You went to work, did your job with tired smiles and helpful words, and you went home to repeat the same process over again, sometimes staying up as late as possible before your body couldn’t handle being awake any longer.

As you continued to struggle with whatever it was that haunted you, and you were almost certain at this point that, yes, you must have been haunted for anything to make sense, you began to notice Father Ren around a lot more.

You blamed it on your problems, on the ingrained religion of your childhood that had you seeing the priest as a potential light in darkness, an unknown guide standing at a distance from your sea of woes.

He was everywhere; at the library, the supermarket, paying a visit down the street to the twins that caused trouble for old Mrs. Kurthan…it was as if he was everywhere you looked, a beacon, an answer to ungiven prayers.

When he saw you, and most times he did, Father Ren would give you that warm, reassuring smile of his, always gentle, never reaching his eyes. He was doing it at that moment, his gaze having caught your own as you passed by the congregation having just finished their morning at the church, his bright eyes shining amongst his tired-looking flock.

Just like every time before, you smiled back and went on your way, always a little more hurried, always missing the way his eyes lingered on your retreating form.

That night, your unending nightmare changed once more, the evolution of the creature that haunted you only giving it more power, more ways to torture your dreamscape. It touched you and grabbed at you, hands reaching beneath your night shirt despite your whimpered protests. You expected to feel its unseen mouth on you at any moment, but when you didn’t, you opened your eyes only to find what you never wanted to see.

A smiling mouth, eager and pleased. Teeth, so many teeth, sharp and gleaming in the light of your faux room. That very mouth morphed even higher in its grin, startling and frightening and thrilled at your attention.

It opened next, and what left it was a garbled mess of sounds, at first, nothing that made sense and only fueled your want to get away even more.

It was like that for many nights following, the creature garbling out words and phrases that you could not make out. It was talking, but it was not making sense. It was reverent as it spoke against your skin, yet it only led to you trembling in fear.

Then, one night, the figure spoke as it had been doing, only you were finally able to make out words amongst the baritone, garbled ramble that it had been using before.

“Angel,” it spoke, its timbre deep and rumbling and almost too loud, “Angel, soft.”

You screamed in fear, and it laughed, amused and delighted as it began to bite at your skin as it did every night before. Its hands felt more present, more insistent as they pulled and pinched and prodded at your chest, your stomach, your thighs. All the while, it spoke to you, each distorted sound vibrating every nerve in your body as it repeated one word like a mantra.

“Angel, Angel, Angel…”

Waking up from that dream, paranoia was not what greeted you. It was fear, fear of knowing that, now, your nightmare had a voice, and it was only becoming more real, even harder to ignore.

So, while you were at work, you began to research. How fortunate it was that you worked in a library with unlimited access to all the books there, and you made good use of that in your ample downtime between all your other duties. Anything that dealt with ghosts and hauntings and possible possessions found its way within your hands, eyes unbearably tired but incredibly wide as you took in the information and even wrote down notes and probable ways to help get rid of whatever was causing the creature to latch on to you.

There were multiple home remedies you tried that could possibly ease you into lighter sleep, resting without having to dream, but they did nothing. You were damn near on the cusp of doing witchcraft with some sort of incantations and drawing sigils that were meant to ward off evil things, spirits and fae and goblins and demons, all allegedly, but nothing was working.

Your breaking point came with the most vivid dream to date.

The creature was not present, at first, when you fell asleep, and it was almost scarier not knowing where it had gone than having it all over you. You made to stand in the endless void that was your faux bedroom, stepping away slightly from the bed and walking into the darkness. A few steps farther, and you were able to make out a door, illuminated by an unknown light. For a long minute, you stared at the painted hardwood, unsure if you should move closer and find out what was on the other side.

It seemed your choice would be made for you, however, as a deep chuckle echoed all around the endless blackness before the sound focused acutely from behind you.

You turned, knowing what you would find, yet becoming surprised once more at the being standing there a short distance away.

Long black hair faded out into light pink ends, framing a tall, lithe body painted in meager swathes of black leather and gold trinkets, pale skin swirled with faint black markings only seeming more lustrous against the darkness. Something moved from behind him, a swaying motion that paused just to the side of his silhouette, and it took you a moment to register that it was a tail, of all things. Just as strange were the pair of what looked to be horns protruding from his head, curling up and standing tall from his forehead, though one appeared to be broken at the tip.

The man -was it really a man?- held a beaming smile, icy eyes staring straight through you with purpose.

“My darling Angel,” he spoke clearly, his smile endearing at seeing you there, “oh, how I’ve waited to come to you properly.”

You could not find your voice; in fact, you couldn’t think of anything to say at all. You were stunned more than anything, trying to process what you were seeing before you, what you were hearing from the being. Truly, the creature before you was stunning, ethereal in a way. His voice was soothing despite the edge it held, and his features were so incredibly attractive that even the blind would notice.

Then, all at once, your fight or flight kicked in, and the fear you had grown used to had hit you full force. You took a step back, eyes wide, and the being before you stepped forward to compensate for the motion.

“I’ve been waiting all this time,” he continued, “all this time, just for you. I must admit, I hadn’t realized I had found such a gem, not at first. There were so many prospects, so many delicious outcomes, but none could even compare to you.”

He took another step forward, then another, and your body finally moved with the impending danger coming closer.

You made a mad dash for the illuminated door, fingers almost slipping against the cool brass of the doorknob as you clasped it and tried desperately to push it open. It finally gave way, but just as the door cracked open, it was yanked shut again by your own hands, a scream leaving you as the long arms snaking around your middle pulled you away from what felt like your only escape.

"Now, Angel, don't you think it's been long enough? There's no need to make me chase you any longer."

Whimpering, you struggled in the creature's hold, shuddering at the long, inhuman tongue that slithered its way against the side of your neck. As if pleased, the being practically purred against you, or growled, some sort of sound that rumbled against its chest in a pleased way.

You had to find a way to escape.

"L-let me go," you mumbled out, trying to find your voice amongst your fear. "P-please, just…just let me go!"

"Oh? Of course, Angel, but only for a moment," the creature teased, and you found yourself being spun around quickly and shoved backwards, falling for longer than you should have before landing on the softness of your mattress.

You barely had time to process how you even made it back to the bed before the creature was on you, legs straddling your hips as it leaned over your prone form. Immediately, you lashed out, but your wrists were caught just as quickly, though not by his hands, of which were leisurely sliding their way up your shirt. A quick glance found something black and mobile sliding around your wrists.

His tail.

Your struggle continued, though it didn't seem as if the lithe appendage would budge unless its owner wanted it to. Said owner was cooing things at you, things meant to be affirming and full of praise, but his words left you feeling numb, your mind not wanting to process the vile things being said.

"My darling, my Angel, you're so soft, so scrumptious against my fingers and my tongue. I can't wait to taste you properly, this time. I can't wait to fuck you and indulge in all your delicous sounds."

"S-stop! Get off of m-me, leave me alone! I don't want any of this!"

"But you do," the creature insisted, slotting his hips to fit against yours smoothly and grinding down, forcing a gasp from you. It was obvious how much he was already enjoying himself; you could feel how hard he was, how eagerly he was responding to having you beneath him with little else to rile him up.

"You respond so perfectly to me,' he crooned, "so much better than anyone else. I could feast on you forever, truly!"

You didn't understand what he meant by that, nor did you really want to. For weeks, he had been haunting your dreams as nothing but a shadow, but now he was as real as he could be, and you were nothing short of terrified over what he could possibly do…what he had already told you he would do.

Once again, you struggled in your binds, twisting and turning and kicking out in an attempt to dislodge the creature from your form. It almost seemed effective, as the body above you swayed and almost fell to the side. The tail binding your wrists suddenly tightened, however, and you immediately winced and halted your movements to lessen the hold it had on you. It didn't hurt, not really, but there was potential there, and you worried it would be used against you.

"That won't do," your captor proclaimed, voice eerily calm and just on the side of concerned. "I don't want to hurt you, darling! It's not how I want to bring you pleasure, though if you ask nicely, I can definitely make arrangements."

He righted himself above you, leaning down incredibly close as his tail loosened its hold, allowing you only a moment of comfort before it was taken away with a kiss you couldn't pull away from.

"Look at me, Angel. Look into my eyes."

Immediately, you looked away, avoiding the iridescent gaze that hadn't left you once. Clawed fingers gripped at your chin, forcing you to turn back to face him, but you immediately closed your eyes, not giving the creature the satisfaction.

"LoOk aT mE!"

His voice had distorted and deepened, echoing loudly all around but just a whisper against your lips. Your eyes opened automatically, afraid all over again of what he could do to you if you did not comply. You didn't know he wouldn't hurt you, that he was incapable of doing so unless you told him to. He wanted your pleasure, not your pain, but how could you possibly know that when his very existence within your sleep had caused you nothing but dread for months?

Reluctantly, you met his gaze, the impossible depths of incredibly light blue shimmering within pools of blackness and distorting everything around you until it was the only thing you could fathom. Your body began to relax despite your still present fear, your mind becoming hazy and far less aware of anything but his presence. What fight you had in you dissipated, and even though you would much rather be anywhere but in your dreamscape, you were the calmest you had been in what felt like months.

"Tell me your inner desires, darling. Let me make them come true. Let me give you unimaginable ecstacy. Won't you let me have all of you?"

Your immediate thought was to deny him, just as you had been doing the entire time, but an even deeper part of you, a part you had not even given thought to, wanted whatever the creature above you was offering. It made absolutely no sense, but the more you lingered on the thought, the more it grew in your mind, so much so that, for a moment, it was the only thing you wanted. Giving in would be easy; giving in would be pure rapture.

Unable to stop yourself, you began to nod, agreeing to what you had been asked. You felt the creature smile against your lips, pressing forward to leave behind a light, lingering kiss.

"There, isn't that better?" he questioned, his smile creeping into something a tad more lecherous, a tad more sinister as he pulled back to gaze at you better. "You just sit back and relax, Angel, and let me do all the work. All I ask is that you give me every little piece of you, and I will give you pleasures you've never known."

The creature -no, the demon, because what else could such a being possibly be?- made good on all his sweetly spoken, sickening promises, and you were left at his damning mercy. Unable to lash out, you were made to take what he gave you and enjoy what you, at first, didn't want, but what your body gave into readily.

He touched you with reverence, devoted his palms and fingertips to the softness of your skin as he undressed you, possessive of every flaw and perfection. He tasted with lips and teeth and tongue, leaving nothing unsoiled by his want to pleasure and devour and caress.

His tongue was a wicked thing, sliding against your flesh and raising goosebumps along your body as he made his way lower and lower. He was between your legs in no time, tasting you as he said he would, praising the wanton sounds leaving your lips with pretty words and sharp, golden nails digging into your thighs, the pinpricks doing nothing but heightening the sensations.

How long he pleasured you this way, you were uncertain. It felt like hours he remained there despite your cries to stop as you grew too sensitive at his touch. When he finally did give you a moment's reprieve, you were greeted with that damned silver-blue gaze, wide and wanting, face wet and gleaming from your unwanted desire.

"Angel, you taste like heaven," he praised with a moan, sliding up your body to kiss you.

You could do nothing but accept everything he was doing, your sounds positive, your tears an unfortunate acceptance.

Easily, your body welcomed him, the mess he had made of your warmth allowing him to slide in with one smooth thrust. He shuddered above you as you made a small, breathy sound, eyes closing as the creature actually had the decency to give you a moment to adjust.

In all honesty, you wanted him out of you immediately; in all honesty, you wanted even more.

“Divine…absolutely divine!”

His words were nearly a moan, his hips slow to move, but picking up pace quickly. You were quiet, at first, biting at your bottom lip to keep from letting out any sounds, to keep from letting the creature know that you were enjoying it far more than you wanted to. Your silence only seemed to spur him on, however, as he shifted your positions slightly and had your legs over his shoulders.

The new angle forced a whine from your lips, each thrust hitting something within you that had all your nerves lighting up. You could feel every movement sending sparks down your spine, could feel the heat and the girth of the creature spearing into you with vigor and excitement. With that one sound escaping, you were unable to hold back any longer, giving in to the pleasure that wracked your body and letting out moans and keens and cries.

“Hah…yes, let me hear you, Angel! Let me feast on your rapture!”

You were pushed and pulled into several positions, barely aware of much else besides the cock moving in and out of you. At some point, the tail that had been wrapped around your wrists had unwound itself and made use in other places - wrapping around your waist to pull you into every thrust, twisting around an ankle, and even finding its way within your mouth, practically choking you with its curious nature.

You felt no pain, only unadulterated pleasure, absolute ecstasy everywhere you were being touched.

Delirious, you were only mildly aware of your begging for more, begging to stop, your cries of sensitivity and your screams of delight. The creature practically surrounding you in every sense answered in full, thrusting harder and faster with each new position, exclaiming with your shouts and pleas.

He was close; you were sure of it. The way his claws dug deeply into your sides, the rough smack of his hips against your own, and the teeth nibbling sharply against your shoulder were all solid indications. You had already come twice, a third and hopefully final time just out of reach. Just a little more…just a little longer…

The creature reached between your legs, fingers slick, insistent, and you were screaming to the heavens as your body tensed and trembled almost violently. Your fingers were in his hair, one hand finding purchase against a twisting horn, pulling as you convulsed around him. With a delighted snarl, he bit into the side of your neck, his thrusts slowing as liquid heat filled you deep within. 

It was quiet for a long time after, save for your harsh breaths as well as the lilting, gentle endearments from the creature lying atop you. Clawed hands brushed over your sweaty skin, creating goosebumps in their wake.

“You are absolute perfection. A delicious temptation, and all for me to devour every night.”

He sat up, exposing you to the coolness of the void around you. All too quickly, you were coming back to your senses, a feeling of shame making itself known. You had given in, despite your want for the creature to leave you alone, and now all you felt was ashamed and sick to your stomach.

The creature moved back further, pulling out with a groan and looking to where you were previously joined. You tried closing your knees together, but he was faster, prying your legs apart and gazing at the mess he had left behind. Embarrassment had you weakly fighting back, but it was all for nothing.

Faintly, you were aware that something in your mind was shifting, that your sight was becoming almost hazy, and the creature’s words ringing in your ears almost coming to you muffled.

“Oh, yes, no one else could ever compare. You are all mine, Angel. I can’t wait to have you again.”

Without warning, you found yourself shooting up in your bed with a gasp, eyes wide and full of tears. It was really your room, the walls decorated just as you always had them, lit by the light you had kept on in an attempt to keep yourself awake. The waking world that greeted you was the same as it had always been, but you felt a stranger in your own space.

You looked down at your shaking hands, reaching for the comforter and throwing it off of your body with a flourish.

You were still clothed, yet your skin was littered with marks, red lines and shadowed bruises. Shifting out of bed was a little more difficult than normal, as you were far more sore than you should have been, and when you stood, your legs wobbled beneath your weight. It was as you steadied yourself that you felt it, the undeniable existence of slick wetness between your thighs, and your blood ran cold.

How could that even be possible? How the hell was that…that thing able to do such a thing outside of your dream?

An even worse thought entered your mind:  what if your dream hadn’t actually been a dream, but a delusion of reality morphed by the very creature that was haunting them?

With that lone thought, you finally broke down and began sobbing, terrified and at your wit’s end. Nothing you had done had warded off the creature, and there was seemingly nothing else you could do. 

Was there anything or anyone that would be able to help you at all?

“It would be a pleasure to have you join us for Sunday’s service.”

Your mind suddenly conjured up the image of the new priest, Father Ren, and his gentle, comforting voice. He had been so kind, so understanding despite your blatant disinterest in joining the church. He would have no judgments, no reason to fault you or turn you away.

With a newfound hope, you checked your bedside clock, wincing at the extremely early hour.

Surely, if you sought him out, he would be unbothered, especially if you were in as much trouble as you currently were in.

Surely, if you asked for his help, he would be more than happy to lend a hand.

Determination began coursing through your veins as you stumbled your way into the bathroom, doing your best to clean yourself up and calm yourself down. You ignored the mirror, did your best to not glance at the horrible bite mark imprinted in your neck as you quickly dressed and ran out the door.

The church was just down the block from your home, thankfully, the doors always open to those of the public who sought refuge and forgiveness. You practically ran the whole way despite the soreness in your muscles, mind only on wanting to find Father Ren, despite how early it was.

The sun hadn’t even begun to peek over the horizon, and it was highly unlikely that you would find the priest awake at such a time. Still, if you stayed within the church, maybe the creature wouldn’t try to reach you in such a holy place.

Gasping for breath, you practically threw yourself through the entrance of the church, back pressing against the door as you closed it behind you and gulped in air. Already, you felt a little better within the church entryway, the gentle lighting setting the atmosphere in a peaceful tonel. Around you were glass panes depicting holy figures in colorful, abstract hues, and down the long walkway lined with pews that led to the podium, a giant cross made of dark wood stood at attention, a looming symbol of the faith many people flocked to.

“Oh my! I thought I heard something. To what do I owe such an early visit?”

You turned abruptly at the voice, surprised to find the very one you had been looking for.

“F-Father Ren!”

He stepped closer, clothed in his robes and looking every bit as perfect as he always did. His hair was twisted in a braid to the side, and his gentle, light blue eyes were downcast ever so slightly. There was a small smile on his face, his full attention solely on you.

“You seem troubled,” he commented, words carefully prying. You had to keep yourself from breaking down all over again, despite knowing you would have to tell him of your horrible problem.

“I…I am,” you stuttered out, swallowing heavily. “I…I’m so sorry, Father Ren, I didn’t want to bother you at this time-”

“Think nothing of it,” he immediately interjected, waving a hand up as if to dissipate the thought. “What seems to be troubling you?”

“I think there’s something…following me, in my dreams,” you began slowly, biting at your lip. “I know it sounds so stupid, so silly, but it’s haunting me, and I…I don’t know what to do! I’ve tried everything, but…but nothing’s working, and it…it leaves marks on me.”

You pulled down your collar slightly, showing off the purpling bruises and imprints of teeth. Father Ren’s eyes widened as he moved closer to study the marks further; you mistook the action as shock and shied away somewhat. The priest understood and took a step back, giving a single nod in affirmation.

“I see. I’m glad you feel comfortable coming to me for such a matter.”

“I didn’t know what else to do,” you admitted, defeated and mildly embarrassed to express he had been your last resort. If it bothered him, he didn’t show it, his smile once again finding its way to his lovely face. It reached his eyes, unlike any other time you had seen it, and though it was genuine, it didn’t bring you as much comfort as you thought it should have.

“You have nothing to worry about, now,” he assured, his voice gentle but his words feeling stiff, almost practiced. His eyes, so incredibly light in color, almost seemed to shimmer in the holy glow of the church, though instead of the clarity you thought you found in them, they only held unknown deceit.

“Oh! Wow, you’re earlier than I thought you’d be,” you jabbed playfully as you approached, though you were honestly surprised he was there before anyone else.

Yuuji’s smile was bright when he greeted you, though it wasn’t nearly as big as it usually was. He seemed a little on edge, and for a moment, you worried something was amiss that you weren’t privy to.

“Guess I was just extra excited to get into the city,” he mused, scratching lightly at his cheek.

Hm…he was acting nervous.

“Well, Megumi is pretty punctual, and Nobara was excited, too, so I don’t think they’ll be much longer,”

“Y-yeah, that’s good!”

Silence stretched between the both of you, and it was becoming more and more apparent that there was something up with Yuuji. He was being extra fidgety and doing his best to avoid eye contact. It was incredibly unlike him, seeing as how he wasn’t usually shy with friendly affection.

Worry began to set in, enough so that you stepped closer and reached out to grab hold of his coat sleeve to gain his attention.

"Yuuji, are you-?"

"I'm sorry, I-!"

At the same time you moved, so did he, apology already leaving his lips as you began your inquiry. He had also stepped closer, stride longer and eager to rectify his odd behavior. Because of this, you both nearly collided with each other, his arms coming out instinctually to pull you in and keep from hurting you.

You were not sure what prompted the switch, but you were aware of when it happened, the immediate difference in cursed energy, albeit much more contained than usual, and the hold around your waist becoming all the more iron-clad.

Of course, you knew Yuuji had a curse that resided in him, one of the most powerful beings that had ever graced the earth, and yet somehow the bright ray of sunshine you called your friend had the ability to hold him back. Even so, there were instances that he slipped out, sometimes when Yuuji was at his weakest, and sometimes on mutual standing.

At that moment, you were confused as to what exactly had prompted Sukuna to take reign.

He hadn't said a word, though he had leaned in much closer, practically pressing himself to you from head to toe. It was alarming, somewhat frightening, if you were being honest, but of the very few times Sukuna had made himself known to you, he had been oddly careful…or as careful as a powerful curse could be, you supposed.

It still didn't mean he wouldn't kill you on a whim, so you did your best to stay still as he…as he started to sniff your hair?

The fear was quickly fading in place of confusion, and you were veering dangerously close to perturbed as Sukuna seemed content to do just that, burying his nose into your hair and breathing in deeply.

"Uh…S-Sukuna?"

You were answered with a deep, slow hum, feeling it against your chest just as much as you could hear it in your ears.

"Is there…um, is there something you needed...from me?

Your question was met with silence, not necessarily a bad thing, but also not always a good thing. You tried your hand at pulling back to get a better look at him, but you were met with immediate resistance.

Okay, so he was just…content to be like that, then. Yeah, no problem, you would just stand there and let him be. It was the easiest course of action, and it was much better than having him go on a killing spree when you could have prevented it without issue.

How long did he plan on keeping you there, stuck in his, er, embrace? Surely it would become a bit of an issue when Megumi and Nobara showed up, though you were beginning to hope they didn't show up at all so that they would remain safe until whatever Sukuna was doing came to an end.

If you thought about it too hard, it was actually kinda nice being held like that. He was pretty warm, and the day was starting out rather chilly…

"You smell of woodsmoke and burnt sugar."

The deeper timbre of Sukuna's voice startled you out of your thoughts.

"Wh-what?"

"Woodsmoke and burnt sugar," he reiterated, frown clearly evident in his words at having to repeat himself. Regardless, he continued speaking, and it was hard for you to decipher if he was becoming frustrated or amused.

“Had to fight the brat just to experience the scent for myself. It’s cloyingly sweet, whatever clings to you, almost sickening. It’s annoying and distracting.”

You had to think for a moment about what it was he could possibly be talking about. It was as you were going through your process of getting ready within your mind that you remembered the new body mist you had been using. Cozy Bonfire was the name of it, and it had a deeper underlying scent of smoke reminiscent of a campfire, while the sweeter notes held vanilla and reminded you of toasted marshmallows.

Honestly, you had really started to like the scent. It was just as the name suggested, cozy and perfect for the fall weather, but it seemed that perhaps not everyone liked it.

“If it’s annoying you, I can change it,” you offered almost carefully, wanting to appease him as best you could.

Your efforts, however, earned you an almost snarl-like sound as Sukuna pulled back to glare at you once more, clawed hands coming up to grip the tops of your arms tightly. There was anger in his sharp gaze, the lines of black adorning his features making him look more fearsome.

"Did I tell you to change it?"

"No! No, it w-was just a suggestion, since it was b-bothering you so much!"

Sukuna continued to stare you down, gaze becoming critical as if to determine if there was any hint of a lie in your statement. 

“Good. Leave it. Easier to find you when the brat can’t keep you in his sight.”

His grip on you eased considerably, but he hadn’t actually let you go, meaning he wasn’t quite done with you yet. Surprisingly, his gaze shifted into something more thoughtful. Then he grinned, wide and amused and far more lecherous than you had expected.

“You’re a timid little thing, aren’t you?” he questioned with mirth, face leaning in close, closer, closer still until the tip of his nose was nearly touching your own. “How…endearing.”

All you could do was stare back into his red gaze, face warming at how close he had gotten and at the almost affectionate words he spoke. He shifted again, head leaning more to the side, and you shivered at the brush of his lips against your ear.

“When I have full control of this body,” he spoke, your cheeks burning hot at the rumble of his voice, “when my power is whole again, I will hunt down this scent of burnt sugar and smoke. I will find you, little treasure, and I will wreck you.”

You gave a sharp gasp as you tensed and immediately stepped just out of his hold, too shocked and embarrassed to realize that he had let you do so. Instead, you were focused on his laugh at your expense, gleeful and amused, and how his red gaze was filled with heat, but definitely not from anger.

It was almost instinctual, the way your hand moved of its own accord. You barely had time to process you were in motion, unable to stop the palm of your hand from smacking Sukuna in the face. It was a rather impressive slap, the sound of skin striking against skin sharp in your ears, and the force of it was enough that it had the curse turning with the motion.

The buzzing silence that followed had absolute dread creeping up inside of you. Had you actually just slapped the strongest curse known to society? Oh, surely this meant your death, there was no way he would just let you get away with-

"Ow! Ow, ow, ow, that actually really hurts!"

Your rambling thoughts were cut off by the sounds of someone in pain, and you were immediate in your want to help.

"Yuuji! I'm so sorry! Are you alright?"

Deep brown eyes turned in your direction, surprise and relief swirling in their depths.

"Yeah, I'm good," he answered as he turned fully to you once more, not a hint of a black marking on his skin, though there was definitely a bright red handprint across his cheek.

It seemed Sukuna had switched at just the right time for Yuuji to receive your slap rather than him. You felt bad about it; Yuuji didn't deserve that.

"Are you alright?" Yuuji asked as he reached out to grip your forearms, flipping your question back on you. "I tried to keep Sukuna back, but he's been hell-bent on coming out whenever you're around, recently, and when you got closer, earlier…"

Yuuji shut up real quick, then, a hand coming up to rub at the back of his head for only a moment as he looked away. His bright eyes were on you again rather quickly, concern easy to see by the furrow of his brow.

"He didn't hurt you, did he?"

"No, I'm fine," you assured quickly, watching as Yuuji gave a heavy sigh, a small smile coming to his lips. "I'm a little shaken up, maybe, but he didn't hurt me."

"Good, I'm glad."

There was a moment where the both of you just stared at each other, both relieved to find the other unharmed, save for the slowly fading handprint on Yuuji's face. It was only natural between close friends that a hug followed, filled with warmth and relief and the gentle comfort you had come to associate with being around him.

"Maybe try and give me a warning, next time?" you mused, sighing as Yuuji's embrace tightened just a bit.

"I'll try," he promised, pulling away slightly to smile brightly at you. The grin fell just as quickly as it had come, and a curious expression washed over his features.

"Oh! This might be a weird question, but did you change your perfume?"

"My perfume?" you mirrored, confused.

"Yeah! You used to smell like flowers, but now you smell really sweet, like toasted marshmallows. It's…it's really nice."

Yuuji looked bashful as he finished his sentence, but his smile was as bright as ever, genuine and warm. It was enough to make you feel bashful, too. You didn't think anyone had noticed…well, outside of Sukuna, who had made it absolutely clear just moments ago.

"You think so?"

"Mhm! I think Sukuna likes it, too. That's why he-"

"Oi! You two lovebirds ready to head out?"

Startled, you and Yuuji pulled away from each other, turning to find both Nobara and Megumi walking up to the gates. You greeted them, choosing to ignore Nobara's teasing, as it was a normal occurrence that didn't seem like it was going to stop anytime soon. Megumi made no comment, either, but did greet you with a nod of his head before his attention was taken momentarily by Yuuji's random conversation.

As the four of you began your trek away from the school, you and Yuuji shared a look, an agreement not to mention what had happened before your friends' arrival. The last thing you wanted was for them to worry over something that wasn't all that much of a big deal.

Nanami was pissed, and rightfully so, considering the mess he had been forced to clean up after some too cocky, low-grade sorcerers decided to attempt exorcizing what they assumed had been a grade two curse. Turns out, it had been a special grade, and there had been no one else around to take care of the situation. Even if there had been, he was the closest to the location at that moment, and while it would most likely mean he wouldn’t be able to make it to you at the agreed time and would definitely be forced into overtime, it wasn’t in him to leave others to die for their own mistakes.

It had been a challenging fight, for sure, and he hadn’t quite gotten away without some injuries. They weren’t incredibly taxing, and a quick visit to Shoko had him patched up in no time and on the way to see you.

He found himself before your apartment building quicker than anticipated, and a glance at his watch told him that it was currently five after ten. He’d been sure to call you before he left, apologizing and promising that he was on his way right then. You assured him it was alright, even told him that you would have dinner warmed and ready for him when he arrived, and it wasn’t the first time he wondered how he had found such a patient soul.

Sighing, he reached for the door that would take him into the lobby. All he needed to do was take the elevator to the fifth floor and-

He had walked straight into your apartment.

Nanami blinked, then frowned, turning behind him to find the hallway of the floor you lived on. That wasn’t right, he had just pushed open the door to the building; he had been outside, so how had he-?

“Darling? I’m home,” he called out, closing the door behind him and scanning his surroundings carefully. It didn’t seem as if anything was out of place; there was a spread of DVDs lying on your coffee table, a selection of genres he preferred, and he could smell the delectable scent of your cooking, the dining table set for the two of you.

Everything was as it should be, so why did he suddenly feel so uneasy?

He moved forward, not bothering to take his shoes off, and continued to inspect your apartment. There wasn’t any trace of cursed energy, save for your own, and that, at least, was a balm to his anxieties.

He called out to you again, hoping that you just hadn’t heard him or had possibly been distracted the first time. Once more, he was met with silence.

The frown marring his face deepened, and his senses were on high alert. It was a plausible conclusion that you might have fallen asleep in your room, but you had seemed so eager over the phone to see him, regardless of the hour.

He made quick strides down the short hallway, noting that the bathroom light was off and the door slightly ajar. He paused to look inside, just in case, but found nothing out of the ordinary. He then reached for your bedroom door, also taking note of the light being out, and opened it.

He was back outside, confused and now more than certain that something foul was at play. Looking behind him showed a staircase that led down, and inspecting his new outside surroundings, it looked to be the rooftop of some building. Judging by the other surrounding buildings, it was at least twenty stories tall.

Looking to his immediate right, Nanami’s heart nearly stopped at seeing you standing atop the ledge, your back to him as you looked out over the nightscape. The dress you wore was long and white, billowing slightly with the motion of the wind. You were utterly ethereal under the lights of the city, yet he could not help but recognize the danger of your position.

The door closed abruptly behind him, and with the loud clang of metal, you turned your head to look at him. Your eyes were bright and wide, a smile gracing your lips as you swiftly twisted to face him. Nanami felt his hands twitch at the motion, a want to pull you from the edge, a need to protect you from falling backward.

You may have possessed cursed energy and even knew how to use it in a pinch, but you ultimately were not a sorcerer, and your fall would be fatal.

“Kento,” you called, your voice as gentle and warm as it always was when you addressed him. “There you are. I was getting a little worried.”

“I’m sorry for my absence,” he apologized, keeping a careful eye on how you were standing, “but it was out of my control. I came as soon as I was able.”

“I understand,” you answered, your smile never wavering, and once again he was reminded of how patient you were when it came to his less than ideal line of work.

He wanted to kiss you breathless for your kindness; he wanted you far away from that ledge and in the safety of his arms, where you belonged.

“What are you doing out here, darling? Let’s go back inside.”

“But it’s so beautiful up here,” you mused wistfully, spinning in a circle with a gentle laugh. Nanami couldn’t help himself from moving closer, taking several quick steps before slowing his advance. It wouldn’t do for him to be too hasty, lest he actually make the situation worse.

Even though you seemed fine, everything about the situation felt so very wrong. He wondered what was going through your head, what it was that had you where you were, toeing the line of life and death.

“Do you wish things were different?”

His brow furrowed at your question, confused yet again at the possible implications even though you seemed so serenely happy.

“What do you mean?”

“The lives we live, they’re quite different,” you explained, swaying a little from side to side. “You’re quite important in your line of work, aren’t you? So you tend to be away a lot more. It’s dangerous stuff, I know, but I also know you wouldn't have it any other way.”

You’re wrong, he wanted to say, because as much as he knew he could never go back to the life of a salaryman, there were many things he would change about his current lifestyle. Namely, he would always be home on time, always come back to you without any hassles or injuries that you would fret over. He would be more present, take you out more and not worry about the curses that lingered over humanity.

If he could, he would do it in a heartbeat. For you, he would do damn near anything, if it was within his ability.

“You work so hard,” you continued, “and you have so many people who look up to you, who count on you. I can’t help but feel, sometimes, that maybe I’m just in the way. I don’t want to be a hindrance.”

Your hand came up to the side of your neck, fingers tracing over the fresh scar there, one he still damned himself for not having prevented. It spanned half your lovely skin, an ugly reminder that you should have died when it happened, an ugly reminder that you were still alive and with him and thank God you were still here.

But you were making him far too nervous, being up on that ledge and saying the things that you were. He wanted you down from there as soon as possible, otherwise he felt as if his heart would come out of his chest.

“Never,” he was quick to assuage your concerns, “you could never be in the way. Now please, come down from there.”

He reached out his hand to you, taking another step forward. He watched as your gaze moved to his outstretched hand, lingering for a long moment. The smile softened on your lips, eyes downcast just a bit as if you were remembering something fond. You then reached your hand out, waiting for him to take it, allowing him to pull you from what he could only see as death’s embrace.

With a held breath, he came closer, fingers just brushing against your own.

A gasp left your lips as you were jerked back suddenly, and Nanami was forced to step away to reassess what was happening. What had momentarily been a moment of relief turned to unbridled rage at seeing that grinning face from behind you.

The cursed spirit with the stitched face.

“Hold on, now,” the curse said, clearly amused, “not so fast. Don’t want something bad to happen, now do we?”

His hand was wrapped around you from behind, fingers grasping at the left side of your neck, right over the scar you had touched. Right over the scar that he had created.

Nanami could feel his jaw clench tight at how hard he was gritting his teeth.

How had he not noticed him before? Where had he been hiding to suddenly appear without an ounce of his cursed energy appearing until that moment? He had been absolutely certain there were no traces of another in your apartment, he was sure-

"Oh, did I hit a nerve? Didn't think I could get under your skin so easily," the curse mocked, pale fingers drumming against the base of your throat. "Then again, every human has a weakness, even ones like you."

Those same fingers tightened suddenly, causing you to gasp out again, and Nanami had to remind himself to stay calm and avert attention away from you. It would be the only way to save you.

He would not - could not - lose you.

"You could have easily gotten to me without this spectacle. Hiding behind hostages doesn't suit you."

"And yet, here we are again."

Nanami's eyes widened, surprised to hear your voice spoken with the curse's own. At first, he thought the curse had somehow mimicked your voice, but your lips had been moving, syncing up perfectly as if you were nothing more than a puppet under its master's control.

What sort of technique was this?

"What do you want?" he questioned, earning a laugh from both the curse and you. It was horrible, haunting, unlike how you would laugh at the silly jokes you enjoyed.

"Nothing makes me happier than seeing humans like you squirm in the face of the inevitable. Tell me, do you believe I need a reason to kill, or is that something you tell yourself to make things make sense?"

Nanami watched, helpless, as the curse with a stitched face stepped backward, the very tips of his feet the only thing keeping him on the ledge. You were forced to follow, though you hadn't struggled once since being captured. It was almost as if you had accepted what was happening, that you had already deemed the situation to play out against your favor.

"I'll kill you," the curse promised, still forcing your voice from you, "but first, I'll take your heart and see just how long you can handle the suffering."

Everything happened in slow motion after that, as if to cement the fact Nanami was too slow, that he had no chance to save you a second time from death.

The curse leaned back completely with a wide, manic grin, his grip on your neck forcing you to follow his motion. You were falling back, unable to do anything against your coming demise, and yet you were smiling.

It wasn't manic, but soft, the kind of smile you always gave him when you kissed him and welcomed him home, when you thought he wasn't looking while he read the newspaper or told you about something he knew was dreadfully boring, but you wanted to hear him talk anyways. It was the kind of smile he had associated with home and comfort and love, and it was being perverted in his mind by your end.

Before you disappeared completely from the edge, he was just able to see your lips move, your voice the only thing reaching his ears in the quiet tunnel of his anguish.

"Catch me, Kento."

—

Nanami awoke with a slight jump, his body tensing at the abrupt feeling of being jarred from his dream by his own doing. The feeling in his chest was tight, his breaths coming slightly staggered as he tried to come back to himself.

It was just a dream.

He lifted his head and glanced around the darkness of the bedroom, only able to make out vague outlines of objects without proper light. There was nothing else in the room that shouldn't have been, and with a sigh, he relaxed back into his pillow, breathing deeply as the dredges of his fears began to fade away.

Everything had felt so real to him; he had literally dealt with that unknown special grade earlier in the day, and though he hadn't quite arrived as late as his mind had played out, he had definitely been late to dinner. You had greeted him, just as you always did, with a kiss and a soft smile and ushered him to the table without any preamble. Everything else had been of his mind's own making, a cruel possibility thought would only bring him pain.

Out of instinct, he reached for you on your side of the bed, wanting to wrap his arm around you and hopefully get back to sleep without any trouble. Instead, his palm met the cool, crisp sheets of an empty space.

He shot up then, eyes wide while looking to where you should have been. He still couldn’t see anything clearly, but a quick slide of his hand once more over your side of the bed confirmed that it was empty, lacking your body and any warmth that should have been there.

He felt his eyes burn, his heart racing in his chest with the reeling thoughts flickering through his head. You should have been there…you should have been there beside him, asleep and alive and safe. He was a fool to believe things had worked out as he had hoped; he was a fool to think he had saved you, when the cold reality was staring him in the face. 

You weren’t…he hadn’t…

“Oh, Kento! Did I wake you?”

So wrapped up in his sudden grief, he hadn’t realized that the bedroom door had opened, letting in some light from what was undoubtedly the kitchen. When he turned, he found you standing there, eyes wide and bright and a glass of water in your hand.

Beautiful.

Ethereal.

Alive and well.

"I'm sorry," you continued, unaware of the mental turmoil Nanami was going through, "but you know how I get sometimes. I just needed to be up for a little bit. I reorganized the pantry; you might have heard me drop the rice. And I was trying to be so quiet, too!"

You moved closer, setting the glass of water on the bedside table, the one you insisted was just for him and whatever he decided to leave behind at your place to make him more comfortable while he was with you.

He was more than comfortable. He was more than relieved to have you.

"I brought you some water. I know you usually have one ready for in the morning, so-"

"You're…you're actually here," he murmured, unable to hide the hesitant hope in his voice.

You paused for a long moment, just staring at him as he stared back. He could see how your gaze shifted from surprise to confusion, and then finally understanding.

“Of course I’m here,” you reassured, moving even closer and immediately reaching out for him. He didn’t hesitate on the invitation, his arms wrapping around you tightly and pulling you as close to him as he possibly could while still sitting up in bed. His head buried against your stomach, inhaling the scent of your clothes, of the sweet, floral body lotion you always applied after a bath, and he was lulled for a few blissful seconds by the comfort of you.

“You’re shaking,” you said quietly, voice soft and as careful in the quiet as your hands were against his back, attempting to sooth away his trembling. “It was a dream, wasn’t it? What did you see?”

“You,” he admitted easily, all but slumping against you as he was made to relive the nightmare with that simple utterance. It was enough of an explanation; he had lived such dreams before, horrible plays of what-ifs and twisted possibilities, and always with your demise at hand.

He was always too late, in the end.

Without warning, his hold on you tightened, and he suddenly found himself pulling you onto the bed and into his lap. You made a soft sound of surprise, but adjusted yourself accordingly, continuing the motions of your hands as he held you against him.

“I’m here,” you cooed gently, “I’m here, Kento, I’m not going anywhere.”

He pulled away momentarily to look at you, how earnest you were to ease his fears, despite the tired look in your eyes. Your soft smile gave him pause, a reminder of the same look in the dream you had given him before you were…

His gaze moved to the scar on your neck.

“Nuh-uh, none of that.”

Your hands moved to cup either side of his jaw, moving his gaze back up to your own eyes, now filled with determination.

“I’m right in front of you, in my apartment, in our room. You don’t get to think of the death that never happened when I am here and breathing.”

“You should have-”

“But I didn’t,” you quickly interrupted, thumbs brushing along his cheeks. “You saved me, remember? In more ways than one. And I’m not going to let go of this opportunity of a life with you, even when your head is so full of darkness that you forget.”

Nanami's breath caught in his throat, and for a long while, all he could do was watch you, eyes unable to look away from the open book that was your own expression. Your body was warm against his, a reminder of the life that coursed through your veins. With firm, gentle fingers, your hands were carding through his hair, comforting him further. Your sleepy gaze was calm, assessing him despite your fatigue. He was surrounded with nothing but you, and, slowly, he came back to himself.

With hesitant fingers, he reached up and brushed against your cheek. You leaned into the touch, humming with content at the contact.

More sure of himself, he pulled you to him and slotted his mouth against your own, a sweet kiss that warmed his heart just as much as your hands in his hair. There was no hesitance on your part when he moved to deepen the embrace, earning the tiniest sound in response that, under other circumstances, would have excited him to delve into what you gave so easily. In that moment, it gave him peace of mind, a joy in having you with him.

You pulled away briefly, only to come back to him with short, unhurried kisses, leaning your head against his with a dreamy sigh once you finished.

"Found you, again."

"You always manage to," he whispered, tracing his hand along your arm in long, sweeping motions.

"You gonna be okay?"

"The worst of it has faded from my mind."

"That's not what I asked."

He sighed heavily, though it was from his own insecurity to dig any further into his personal turmoils than frustration at your worries.

"I'll be fine. I have you to chase away the bad dreams," he mused, and he delighted in your widening grin.

"I'm getting pretty good at that, yeah?"

"You shouldn't have to be."

"Mm, I don't mind," you said with a shrug, leaning down for one last lingering kiss and a ruffle of his blond hair..

When you pulled away, you pressed your nose to his, a sign of your affection that never failed to make his heart melt. You then began to shift to the side, and he couldn’t help but tense his arms around you, earning a chuckle from your lips.

“I’m not going anywhere, just figured we could lay back down. It’s a little past four in the morning, I think, so plenty of time to rest.”

Nanami hummed in thought at the tender provocation, loosening his hold and allowing you to slip from his lap. You maneuvered yourself back to your side of the bed, slipping under the sheets and comforter and reaching out to touch his arm.

“Alright, your turn. Come cuddle me.”

A huff of a laugh escaped him as he, too, made himself comfortable back under the comforter, turning on his side to face you. He raised an arm, and you wiggled your way closer until he could fully wrap it around you as your hand found its way to his chest.

Everything felt right in that moment.

He could feel your gentle breaths underneath his palm, just as he was sure you could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath yours. Absolute signs that you were both alive and present for each other, that both of you were still kicking and refused to succumb to the horrors the world had to offer.

Even still, though, he had his doubts of his ability to keep you safe, to keep you with him into old age. But with you there, tracing patterns against his bare chest and humming some soft melody to lull yourself into sleep, it was becoming harder to ignore just the kind of things he would do for you, the things he would do to ensure you would live long and happy and full of life, and hopefully at his side.

“Love you, Kento,” you murmured, lips pressing against his shoulder briefly before you snuggled into him, fully relaxing into him as sleep began to take you. If you felt his breath catch in his chest, you said nothing of it.

“Enough, Zenos,” you gasped out, still trying to catch your breath from the sparring you had promised him.

Sparring was putting such battle lightly, as he was oft to put his all into every swing of his sword. That day was no exception, his swings full of force and his jabs meant to maim. Had you not known how he fought even in practice, you would surely end up with many more injuries than you had already garnered.

There was something about the sparring this time, however, something that drove him to push harder than usual that had you equal parts worried and curious. Even now, with your blade sheathed and breaths still haggard, he approached with intent, sword still drawn and that damnable look in his eyes that drove you mad in more ways than one.

“I said enough!”

His smile only seemed to grow more prominent as he approached, eyes squinting with the uncanny joy he was sharing only with you.

Startling, intimidating, scarily endearing.

Without warning, Zenos made a mad dash in your direction, a growl of excitement leaving him with the effort as his armor, light as it was, clicked and clanked with his swift movement. You had no time to draw your sword again, barely any time to dodge. It said something of your trust in him that you remained where you were, standing your ground even as your eyes closed and awaited the inevitable.

The contact was harsh, as you expected, as you found yourself pushed back into the nearest wall. There was the loud clanging of metal dropping to the ground, followed by the rough touch of Zenos’ hand grasping at your chin.

“If not for my affections,” he began, words drawled as he, too, caught his breath, “my blade would have tasted your blood more profoundly long ago. In fact, I’m certain it has.”

“F-flatterer,” you managed, gazing up into intense pale blue, still amused, still unhinged…still endeared by you.

“So you jest,” he mused, leaning ever closer until your noses touched and his breath mingled with your own. The atmosphere changed almost immediately with the motion, a different sort of tension making itself known.

Suddenly, you began to understand what it was that had him acting so much more volatile than normal.

Zenos was…restless.

“I have grown weary of this…farce we call sparring,” he murmured, lips feathering over your own with the barest touch, a tingle of sensation that overcame the pain of hours of fighting, of the rough grip against your skin that was driven by nothing but affection and need.

“Will you not entertain me longer?”