Out of the Ordinary
May. 1st, 2005 10:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
emeraldembersOut of the Ordinary
Rating: PG-12 for violent and het.
Pairing: Sparda/Eva
Fandom: Devil May Cry
Disclaimer: Non-profit fanfiction.
Warning: Fluff!
Dedicated: to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
nyxmidnight.
Sparda smiles as he brushes her hair away from her face, and marvels at the fact he once thought his heart would never stop. Nearly two thousand years he had spent on Earth, alone but for the demons that had not been trapped in the otherworld baying for his blood. He had watched humans and all their victories and losses, enjoyed watching them grow strong and suspicious of influence on their own. He knew he would never see everything, but he thought he had seen enough. Then she came into his life.
He hadn’t even seen her coming, simply coughed the air out of his lungs at the shock of finding a sword impaling him through the back and out his stomach. It wasn’t the first time he’d been attacked, but it was the first time anyone had come so close to successfully killing him.
She moved to stand in front of him, knowing he couldn’t move without killing himself until she removed the sword, pressed the barrel of her gun up against his chin. “What a unique way you have with introductions,” he had gasped. “Do I get a name?”
“Give me yours first, demon,” she replied, and Sparda realised it was less than gentlemanly of him to stare when his range of vision was currently limited by paralysis to her chest.
“Sparda, though most people who want me dead address me otherwise.”
She paused for a moment. “You’re lying. Sparda’s a noble man, bright and-”
“Were you expecting white wings and a halo?” He continued when her voice hesitated. “I’m a demon. Regardless of what else you humans believe, you should have figured the significance of that by now.”
“You’re telling the truth, aren’t you?”
“And isn’t it helping me?” He replied sarcastically, wary that the dull ache of the sword’s weight was starting to slip down. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to damage something far more valuable than his stomach. “I know you don’t trust me, so will you do me the honour of deciding if it’s worth leaving your sword in until I finish bleeding to death, or taking it out and continuing the interrogation?”
“I don’t like men who give me orders,” she snapped, but stepped forward and slipped her free hand around to grip the sword’s handle, yanking it free in one great bloody motion.
“Thank you, miss..?” He had intended to leave the question open-ended, but opening his eyes shocked the end off the sentence anyway, made him wonder if he really had been killed.
The angel slipped out of her own shellshock long enough to reply, “Eva.”
He never stopped thinking of her as an angel. The more he learnt about her, the more he believed it. No human could be so strong, so smart, and so utterly and heart-stoppingly beautiful. It didn’t matter he could smell her own blood on her once a month. It didn’t matter that he’d met her mother, whose claims to be a psychic would certainly be one explanation of her animosity towards him. As far as Sparda was concerned, Eva was an angel. And she didn’t mind him being a demon so long as he didn’t devil trigger in public, which he would never have done anyway. No human would believe a creature with horns and skin like metal claiming to be on their side.
She stirs, bringing him back to the present. Twice he’s brought her to climax tonight, and he still wants to do it again. He’s never been happier. His Eva, his angel, is carrying his children. She doesn’t even know it yet, but he can barely wait for her to find out. He’d been kissing his way down her body when he paused at her abdomen, knowing the smell and scarcely believing it. She’d questioned his pause but lost interest in the answer when his kisses went low enough, and he knew the smell for certain then. Two lives, not bound to each other but sharing her safely. Half-demons conceived in love. It isn’t unheard of, it just isn’t believed in.
Sparda hasn’t stopped smiling at the blonde head resting on his waist, and he knows that tonight –regardless of whatever should happen in the future – his family is secure. He will sleep well, tonight.
Rating: PG-12 for violent and het.
Pairing: Sparda/Eva
Fandom: Devil May Cry
Disclaimer: Non-profit fanfiction.
Warning: Fluff!
Dedicated: to
nyxmidnight.Sparda smiles as he brushes her hair away from her face, and marvels at the fact he once thought his heart would never stop. Nearly two thousand years he had spent on Earth, alone but for the demons that had not been trapped in the otherworld baying for his blood. He had watched humans and all their victories and losses, enjoyed watching them grow strong and suspicious of influence on their own. He knew he would never see everything, but he thought he had seen enough. Then she came into his life.
He hadn’t even seen her coming, simply coughed the air out of his lungs at the shock of finding a sword impaling him through the back and out his stomach. It wasn’t the first time he’d been attacked, but it was the first time anyone had come so close to successfully killing him.
She moved to stand in front of him, knowing he couldn’t move without killing himself until she removed the sword, pressed the barrel of her gun up against his chin. “What a unique way you have with introductions,” he had gasped. “Do I get a name?”
“Give me yours first, demon,” she replied, and Sparda realised it was less than gentlemanly of him to stare when his range of vision was currently limited by paralysis to her chest.
“Sparda, though most people who want me dead address me otherwise.”
She paused for a moment. “You’re lying. Sparda’s a noble man, bright and-”
“Were you expecting white wings and a halo?” He continued when her voice hesitated. “I’m a demon. Regardless of what else you humans believe, you should have figured the significance of that by now.”
“You’re telling the truth, aren’t you?”
“And isn’t it helping me?” He replied sarcastically, wary that the dull ache of the sword’s weight was starting to slip down. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to damage something far more valuable than his stomach. “I know you don’t trust me, so will you do me the honour of deciding if it’s worth leaving your sword in until I finish bleeding to death, or taking it out and continuing the interrogation?”
“I don’t like men who give me orders,” she snapped, but stepped forward and slipped her free hand around to grip the sword’s handle, yanking it free in one great bloody motion.
“Thank you, miss..?” He had intended to leave the question open-ended, but opening his eyes shocked the end off the sentence anyway, made him wonder if he really had been killed.
The angel slipped out of her own shellshock long enough to reply, “Eva.”
He never stopped thinking of her as an angel. The more he learnt about her, the more he believed it. No human could be so strong, so smart, and so utterly and heart-stoppingly beautiful. It didn’t matter he could smell her own blood on her once a month. It didn’t matter that he’d met her mother, whose claims to be a psychic would certainly be one explanation of her animosity towards him. As far as Sparda was concerned, Eva was an angel. And she didn’t mind him being a demon so long as he didn’t devil trigger in public, which he would never have done anyway. No human would believe a creature with horns and skin like metal claiming to be on their side.
She stirs, bringing him back to the present. Twice he’s brought her to climax tonight, and he still wants to do it again. He’s never been happier. His Eva, his angel, is carrying his children. She doesn’t even know it yet, but he can barely wait for her to find out. He’d been kissing his way down her body when he paused at her abdomen, knowing the smell and scarcely believing it. She’d questioned his pause but lost interest in the answer when his kisses went low enough, and he knew the smell for certain then. Two lives, not bound to each other but sharing her safely. Half-demons conceived in love. It isn’t unheard of, it just isn’t believed in.
Sparda hasn’t stopped smiling at the blonde head resting on his waist, and he knows that tonight –regardless of whatever should happen in the future – his family is secure. He will sleep well, tonight.
