#future chapter

"Obviously not. You wanna let me in on the secret?"

Scowling, she looked away. "You said you were an orphan. Have been for years. Didn't you grow up in the system?"

At this, he snorted. "Please. I knew damn well what would happen if I lived with ordinary humans." His mind flashed to a workshop in flames, and a woman who had dared to care about him more than she should have. "The adults tried to catch me, but they never could. Well, they did once, but I kicked out the back window of the car and escaped."

Lady sighed. "Of course you did. That is so… you." Releasing Nero to continue pretending to maul Dante's wrist, she instead wrapped her arms around herself in a surprisingly vulnerable gesture. "For those of us without super strength, the foster system is waiting with open arms. Whether we like it or not." The bitterness in her voice didn't surprise him. He'd heard plenty of horror stories from other street kids, so the emotion was nothing new. But what she said next did surprise him, in the worst sort of way,

"They're going to try to take Nero."

Dante recoiled like he'd been slapped, and it was his turn to snag Nero in a protective embrace. "They can't! You… You said that lawyer was the real deal, and all the paperwork went through! Nero's mine, legally. Hell, if they do a DNA test, I'll register as his father! They can't take him!"

"They can if someone like upstanding member of the community Headmaster Albus fucking Haas tells them that there's a baby living in a shithole like this! With a broke nineteen year old mercenary as his only guardian!" she snapped.

“I think that seems fair enough.” Alastor nodded, looking down at the sinner's outstretched hand. A handshake seemed a little formal, but he reached out and shook his hand to seal the deal anyway.

Immediately, he felt something lock their hands together. An explosion of light surrounded them, brilliant gold, green and red raditated from his own hand. The sinners form shifted, their grin stretching wide and sharp, eyes glowing brightly. Magical symbols surrounded them, both Voodoo and something else. Archaic magic and something far more modern swirling together and engulfing the two of them. The world fell away outside of the bubble of power. Their deal solidified and bound them to it's constraints.

Alastor felt something unlock inside of him. Pulling away his hand the moment he was able to.

All at once everything stopped.

Admitting to you <3

(Tap 4 better quality!)

Evbo has known nothing but fear. It is impossible for him to discern a memory where he is not tense from caution, where he does not have to resist the urge to turn his head and watch for any warning signs of hurt. 

Fear is synonymous with love, as far as he is concerned. It is his aversion to starvation that makes his thoughts become consumed by desire of that bleeding, beating flesh in between his teeth. He wishes for fullness, for warmth, and so he ranks up. 

Does he really love his friend anymore, can he really claim to want them if he cannot be afraid of them any longer? Evbo cannot cower behind their stature after he has witnessed their ruining by Seawatt’s hand and chain. He finds himself unable to tremble in terror, to have his heart seized and wrapped by nerves, not when he has already seen what they look like when weak, fragile, taken apart for any to see.

Is that so wrong? Evbo cannot understand why it would be. Respect is a thing that relationships demand, he has learned, so this is a part of it too. And what is respect if not bowing and practically kissing at one's feet from a wariness of commands for chains of one-block jumps. What is respect, if not yes sirs and obeying someone's every order?