#i should add this isn’t me saying “this is how these arts happened!”

[redstarwriting]

happy birthday

miles morales x reader

request?: yes

request: “I LOVEDDD THE HC’S OMG OMG WORK OF ART!!! i was wondering if you would write something expanding on getting miles’ doodles tatted as an adult!! i would love to read more abt it, it’s so cutee”

requested by: anon​

word count: 2.2k

genre: fluff

Warnings: language, tattoos, mentions of tattoos and needles, Miles is so sweet it's sick

A/N: GLADLY!! i've been itching to get a new tattoo since the minute i got my first like three years ago and writing this just made me want to get another one so bad LMAO. i hope you enjoy!

also in case you were wondering what hcs anon is talking about, it's my pda/general affection hcs i wrote for hobie and miles! you can check it out here if you haven't already and feel compelled to :)

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“Miles! Baby, can you give me a tattoo?” you ask, and he smiles. This has become a common practice in your relationship. From the time y’all were kids in love to now, you would always ask him for a tattoo. Of course, he didn’t actually give you tattoos, he just drew on your arm. He’s mentioned you, and even urged you, to get a tattoo every now and again. Especially when he offered to design them, but you always say his temporary ones are more special than any other tattoo you could get. He isn’t upset about it. He genuinely loves drawing on you. “Of course, babe. Come here,” he says, motioning you over to him as he grabs his markers he has specifically for your “tattoos.” You go over to him, sitting between his legs and extending your arm. “Can you draw it right next to the uh… elbow pit?” you say, and he laughs. “Elbow pit?”

“Yeah, like the inside of my arm and not on the bicep part or the elbow pit part, but the forearm part by the elbow pit,” you explain, pointing to the area you’re talking about. He chuckles. “Elbow pit.”

“Well, what else would it be called?” you ask, smiling, and he grins, starting to doodle on your arm. “I’ll text and ask my mom what the scientific name for it is after I’m done here,” he says, and you lean your head back against his shoulder. “Oh, god, please don’t tell her I called it an elbow pit.”

“Oh, I’m totally telling her you called it that,” he teases, placing a quick peck on your lips before returning his attention to your arm. He draws a spiderweb, of course, but in the shape of a heart. He adds his Miles touch to it by making it look like the web was spraypainted, and having it pop with black and red. You don’t even look at the tattoo as he draws it, you just stare at his face. You love watching him when he does his art. You assume it’s similar to the way his face looks when he’s swinging around the city as Spider-Man. He’s in his element, laser-focused and yet has an ease about him that mesmerizes you. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he says, smirking and turning his attention to you. You feel your face heat up but roll your eyes. “Can’t, arm’s a bit preoccupied.”

“You can get creative; I have an idea. Maybe use the one I’m not drawing on?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say, and he shakes his head. “What do you think, amor?” he asks, and you look. You smile. “I love it, Miles. Thank you,” you say, kissing him on the cheek. He grins, wrapping his arms around your waist as you admire his art. “What time is it?” you ask, and he glances at his phone. “11:15. Why?” 

“Ganke and I are gonna go get some lunch today.”

“Should I be worried?” Miles jokes. “No, dummy. We’re just talking about… something happening soon,” you say, and a sly smile spreads across Miles’ face. “How soon?”

“I’ve said too much,” you say, trying to get up. Unfortunately for you, your boyfriend is Spider-Man and can easily hold you in place. “Nuh uh, how soon is this something happening?” he looks at you with a shit-eating grin, and you roll your eyes. “Wouldn’t you like to know, spider boy?”

“I would. Is it, and this is just a wild guess… something happening tomorrow? A special something happening on a very special day?” he guesses, and you sigh. “Don’t tell Ganke you found out…”

“I knew it!”

“We’re supposed to be planning your birthday party, yes. For tomorrow. On your birthday. Are you happy you spoiled it for yourself now?” you feign annoyance, and he laughs. “I am, actually. Now I know to look good for you tomorrow.” You roll your eyes. “You always look nice, Miles.”

“Only for you,” he grins at you, turning your face to look at him. The two of you share a kiss before it’s interrupted by his police scanner going off. He frowns slightly. “It’s okay, Miles. I gotta go soon anyways,” you give him a quick peck for squeezing out of his arms. He sighs. “Fine, fine. Guess I’ll go save the city. Be the best thing that ever happened to New York and all that.”

“My hero,” you joke, and he grins. “You know it,” he says, slipping his mask on and sliding his everyday clothes off. “I’ll see you later, Miles. Stay safe. Love you.”

“You stay safe, too. Love you more.” He leaps out of the window, and you make sure he’s gone before you call Ganke. “Yo, what’s up?”

“You gotta plan Miles’ birthday party tomorrow.”

“Woah, what?” You sigh. “I already have the roof of our building booked out for it, I ordered the cake already and will pick it up tomorrow and have all the decorations. You just need to invite everyone, okay?”

“You mean I have to reach out to people in different dimensions, tell them to clear their schedules for tomorrow, and hope for the best?” Ganke asks, and you hum into the phone. “Yep! Thanks, Ganke! Also, if Miles asks, we went and got lunch, okay?”

“And where are you really going?”

“I’m getting a tattoo to surprise him for his birthday tomorrow,” you say, grabbing your keys and putting some money in your pocket. You put Ganke on speaker, sending a quick text to Hobie. “You need to stop using me as a cover-up, (Y/n).”

“Who else am I supposed to use? Gwen?” you say, and Ganke sighs. “I mean, yeah, you know she would be down to help you with something like this.”

“Ganke she is so bad at keeping secrets like that, and you know it,” you say, admiring the art on your arm again. “Then use Hobie.”

“Wait that’s actually a good idea,” you say, “Especially since he’s the one giving me the tattoo.”

“AND YOU STILL USED ME?!”

“I PANICKED! He was asking questions! Just, listen, invite as many people as you can think of, alright? Please, and thank you.”

“Fine. Go get inked or whatever they say,” Ganke says. The two of you give some quick goodbyes before hanging up. You receive a reply from Hobie, and a portal opens in Miles and your bedroom. You step through it and find yourself in Hobie’s flat. “Can I just say it’s about damn time you got one of ‘is works tattooed onto ya,” Hobie says, motioning to his couch. You sit and he gets his whole get-up ready, all the cleaning wipes and gloves and the tattoo gun all ready to go. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’m getting it now and that’s what matters,” you say, and he clicks his tongue. “I can guarantee ya this is just gonna be the beginning. Kinda becomes an addiction,” he says, sitting next to you, and fiddling with his gun. “Then I guess I’ll just need to have Miles draw on me even more.” He chuckles. “Lemme see it.”

You show him the drawing, and Hobie shakes his head. “Your man is corny,” he says, and you shrug. “I like it.”

“I know,” he dips his gun in ink, and looks at you, “Ya ready?” You nod, and he begins tattooing Miles’ art onto your skin. The two of you talk the whole time, really, and you let him know about the party tomorrow. He, of course, agrees to come, and can’t wait to see Miles’ reaction. It takes a few hours, but eventually he finishes up and it looks exactly like Miles just drew it on your skin. Hobie places fake skin over it and gives you the rundown of how to take care of it. He turns away from you to put something away, and you quickly slip $100 under a pillow on the couch. You know he won’t accept any money from you because he’s ‘not a capitalist pig,’ so you have to be sneaky with it. “Thank you so much, Hobie,” you say, and he winks at you. “Anythin’ for my mate’s better ‘alf.”

He opens the portal again, and you two say bye until tomorrow. You’re back home, literally, in no time, and you quickly throw one of the hoodies Miles left lying around on. This way he won’t see the tattoo, and you can play it off like you missed him. Especially since you did kind of miss him and it is sort of a staple in your relationship that you wear his clothes when you do. That’ll make him melt and he’ll forget all about the art on your arm. And you were absolutely right. 

It ended up being a late night for Spider-Man, and when he got home, he saw you curled up on the couch, sleeping with his hoodie on, and all he could think about was that you missed him. He carefully picked you up and carried you to your shared bed. You started to wake up as soon as he was getting in bed after taking a shower and cleaning up, and he began desperately trying to get you to go back to sleep. “What time is it?” you groggily ask. “It’s like 3am, (Y/n/n), I’m here now, we can go to sleep, okay?” he says, slipping into bed next to you and pulling you on top of his chest. “Happy birthday!” you sleepily say, burying your face into his chest. He smiles. “Thank you, amor. Let’s get back to sleep now, yeah?” You make a muffled mmhmm sound and are out like a light almost immediately. Miles smiles to himself, wondering how he got this lucky.

You can imagine his disappointment when he wakes up the next day and you’re not snug against his chest, but he feels better the minute he sees a little note on his chest that explains you’ll be home, you just had to go do something for him. He gets up and decided he can do his Spider-Man duties until you text him and let him know he needs to come home. It may be his birthday, but the city still needs it’s defender. So that’s exactly what he does. He cannot explain how grateful he is that none of the big bads were trying to start anything today, because if he didn’t get to see you and eat a slice of cake, he was going to scream. The day went slower than he wanted but also sped by when eventually he got a text from you saying to come home. He immediately obliges, swinging in through the window and putting on some of his nicest clothes. He walks out of your room and sees you chilling on the couch. “Miss me?” he asks, walking over and bending down to kiss your lips. You giggle. “Obviously. Hey, before we go up to the roof where there totally isn’t a party waiting for you, I wanna show you something, okay?”

“Okay,” he grins, and you grin back. “Cover your eyes.” He does as instructed, and hears you shift slightly. “Okay… open them.” He opens his eyes, and immediately sees his “tattoo” on your arm. Only it was covered in a clear wrap. And it’s real. His eyes get big, and he looks at your face. You give a small smile. “You always encouraged me to get a real tattoo, so… happy birthday.”

“Yo! It looks so good, hold up,” he gently grabs your arm and softly traces it through the saniderm. “When did you get this?”

“Yesterday.”

“You weren’t actually with Ganke, were you?”

“No, I was with Hobie,” you say, and he shakes his head. “I got a little liar on my hands, huh?”

“It wasn’t lying it was covering my ass because you ask too many damn questions,” you say, and he laughs. “I love it, (Y/n/n).” You smile and the two of you share a kiss. “We should probably get up there. Some people are waiting. Oh, and pretend like you haven’t seen it yet. Hobie wants to see your reaction.” Miles laughs. “Alright. Well, I hope he knows I’m not gonna stop drawing on you. And that he fully traced my art,” Miles says, and you shake your head. “I’m sure he knows, Miles. You really like it?”

“Like it? Baby, I told you I love it. I love you; I love this tattoo; I love that this is a birthday present from you… everything about this? I love it. I don’t even need to go up there to make the day better because all I need is you,” he says, and you smile. “Hobie was right. You’re so corny.”

“Nah, hold on, he said that? Forget everything I just said it’ll be a perfect day when I punch him.” You laugh as the two of you make your way up to the party. But the whole time, Miles keeps finding his eyes drifting to your tattoo. Something about having his art on you permanently makes his heart swell with pride and happiness. And he and Hobie were both right.

It’s not the only “tattoo” that will become real.

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#miles morales x reader #spiderman x reader #miles x reader #spiderverse x reader #atsv x reader #miles morales #spiderman #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #atsv

[leog4u]

Game Design and Porn Pt. 1

or, How To Fuck Up The Best Intrinsic Reward Ever

Hi, I'm Leo G, veteran pervert. One time while chatting in a server exclusively made of porn artists, I brought up the game design of a porn game I enjoyed. One of them laughed, saying "Who cares, it's just a porn game?" Being unwell, I never let this go. Since then, I have played many adult games and took each one as serious products made by professionals. Fast forward to today, and the demo for my porn game, Joker's Trip, is nearing completion. I also have some sci-fi erotica you should check out.

So you wanna make a porn game. You heard they make money, and hey what’s more fun than making a video game AND porn? But you don’t know where to begin! Well don’t worry, Leo’s got you covered. We’re gonna walk through the line of thinking you should have when designing your porn game. There's gonna be at least three parts to this, with part 1 focusing on how to reward your player.

Define "porn game" for me, Leo.

There are porn games, and then games with porn in them. A porn game is a game where you won’t last 5 minutes, where everything exists solely to meet and, subsequently, fuck. A game with porn in it is a game where everything exists for the purpose of the game, and also, you fuck. Fate Stay Night, for example, is a VN with a story that just so happens to have some CGs where the protagonist rails Saber, but is mainly about Shirou and the Holy Grail War. Much like how I would call Castlevania a game with horror in it, but not a horror game.

Porn games are a lot like horror games. They both get a bad rap for being cheap to make, appealing to base instincts, and generally being low quality. They're also both not actual genres of games, but genres of content. Think about it, if I asked you what a horror game is, you'd say a game that's scary. But what's the actual game part? The unfortunate answer would most likely be "walking sim," but there are a lot of examples that are FPSes, puzzles, driving sims, platformers, deck builders, the list goes on.

The most common genres of game I see for porn games these days are by far RPG Maker RPGs and VNs. I won’t be talking about VNs because they’re closer to writing than game design, which isn’t a flaw but a feature. What used to be everywhere, in days of old, were breakout games, where the more bricks and levels were cleared, the more of the sexy image would be revealed in the background. Other arcadey type deals like shoot ‘em ups and mahjong were also around, and had a similar “strip ‘em down until you have sex” gameplay loop.

Okay, so what’s an intrinsic reward?

There’s intrinsic rewards, and there're extrinsic rewards. Extrinsic rewards, generally, are the number go up rewards. Things that make your character stronger, or give you more resources to buy new gear or whatever. Intrinsic rewards in games can cover a large swathe of things. It can be the feeling of satisfaction of completing a puzzle, a piece of lore or world building, or a new dialogue option with a character you want to fuck.

I like fucking characters, are we talking about porn now?

Yes! I’m of the opinion that you literally can’t make a better intrinsic reward than pornography. On top of setting the tone for the entirety of the game., at its best it can add to a story, add to someone’s character development, or be a beautiful piece of art to look at. AND you can jack off to it! Unfortunately, that’s at its best. Let’s talk about how porn is delivered in a theoretical RPG porn game. (As a head’s up, there will be talk of “bad end” scenes, but this is under the assumption that the player is the one consenting.)

So you’re playing an RPG and get into a fight. Maybe you were underleveled or too cumbrained to remember to buy healing potions. Then your HP goes to zero, and instead of going back to the title screen, you’re getting fucked by orcs. That’s right, let’s talk about Game Over CGs.

You get to watch porn when you lose?

To someone making a porn game with a battle system, this delivery method makes sense. The characters in this world are driven primarily by lust, this is just the obvious conclusion. And it doesn’t even have to be non-consensual! Games like Future Fragments show that it can be presented as a sexy inconvenience rather than anything uncomfortable for the player or our hero. Game Over CGs even have the benefit of softening the blow of defeat, by giving the player a chance to reflect on their defeat and jerk off. Even better if losing a fight isn’t lost progress, but rather a bump in the road. However, there’s a problem here. The player is a dog, and we’re rewarding bad behavior.

The porn is an intrinsic reward, so why are we giving it to the player for losing? Incentivizing losing on purpose isn’t just bad game design, but a waste of time. And to that end, a lot of porn games try to give solutions to this. One being a kill button on the keyboard or a skill that instantly KOs our hero to get to the lose screen faster. What might seem like a convenience is really just expediting failure.

What it says is that the gameplay doesn’t actually matter. You’re just here for the porn, right? In that case there’s plenty of places I can go to see a chick with huge knockers get railed by an orc, with the added bonus of not having to play forgettable and mid turn based combat!

Another solution I’ve seen is the game outright telling you, “hey don’t bother killing yourself to see the porn. Once you beat the game all of the scenes you missed will be unlocked!” At first this seems like a reasonable way to go about it, but it comes with another problem: your game better be fucking good to make me play through the entire thing before getting to see cock. Like I said earlier, porn at its best can reveal things about the world and drive character development. I uh. Just beat the game. I don’t care anymore. Showing me a scene that’s taken out of context by a factor of 5 hours or more isn’t what I’d call great game design or story telling. It’s also too little, too late.

What if we made the porn actual rewards?

Now we’re getting somewhere! Let’s make the reward…a reward! What if, every time the player beats a level, we get some porn? If we tie the CG to beating the boss, we’ll be tying the reward to game progression. That’s good right? So now, on top of the extrinsic rewards you’d normally get for beating a boss (a lot of EXP, better gear, opened areas) we also get that sweet dopamine rush of pornography! So we’re good, right?

There’s 1142 words left in this post, so I’m assuming no.

Well. It’s a start. It has the problem of predictability. If not handled properly, it comes off as lazy. As a game designer, one of your goals is to not constantly remind your player that they’re playing a video game. Get through the level, get porn. It feels a little too “mouse in a maze looking for cheese” for my taste. And much like the game over method, if the actual game itself is mid, the player will start to question if the reward is worth it, and might be afflicted with the worst condition a player could receive: boredom.

Of course there are exceptions. In puzzle or arcade type games where you don’t get extrinsic rewards, giving the player porn as another form of reward per level or whatever is perfectly reasonable (though it does have the issue of being predictable.) This is a perfectly good way of doing it if your game is short, or if the game is, y’know, good and fun to play. Bad Color’s game, Heroine Conquest, is a level based puzzle game with porn as the reward, but only when you do good. Combining the actual challenge of mastering the game, with a genuinely unique game loop makes for a feeling of accomplishment when beating a level. Pair that up with a sex cutscene, and the dopamine rush will hit.

So! Let’s combine giving the player a power trip, with a less rigid structure for giving the player porn. Instead of tying the porn to purely progression gates, let’s tie it to the progression.

Plot milestones

In Third Crisis, sex scenes are peppered throughout the regular game’s plot, starting with some lesbian bondage before introducing the protagonist, who goes through a tutorial before having their own horny encounters. It’s not just given when you win or lose, but is a natural part of the game. Beating bosses, losing to enemies, and exploring dialogue options in sidequests all lead to unlocking new CGs.

Now what’s nice about that, is that the sex isn’t placed somewhere extremely predictable. It isn’t just a reward for beating The Boss Of Forest Zone, Now Go To Ice Zone And Beat The Ice Boss For More Cock. Because that’s the biggest issue of predictable rewards, you know you’re not getting anything until that checkpoint, which will make the player weigh whether or not it’s even worth continuing. This is fine, again, for an arcade type game, not an RPG or adventure game. By sprinkling sex throughout the plot itself, the player will not only want to progress, but their curiosity will have them wondering “what else is out there?”

Rewarding exploration

By putting sex scenes behind optional side quests or encounters, the dog that is the player will scour every single corner of the map, and leave no pixel unturned. Personally, that’s more exciting to me than what you’ll get in the main progression route. In Future Fragments the player can find their rival Faye in sexual situations if they explore the map enough. These are completely optional, and don’t give any direct rewards like more HP or an item, but they’re by far what motivates me to explore the maps as thoroughly as possible, more so than the plot macguffins the game is named after!

So now the player is excited. Sex can happen anywhere. Maybe that daunting off road path with stronger monsters isn’t just hiding a secret, but a sexy secret! They’ll be more likely to venture down those optional paths you painstakingly made.

If we’re using sex in game overs, boss fights, and just randos, why not put it everywhere?

So now I want to talk about the concept of a “sex stat”. It’s not a bad idea! Say, the higher the player’s sex stat is, the more opportunities you unlock for fucking. It could even be tied to the player character’s personality, and affect the story! Instead of using a sword and shield, they’ll end any conflict with sass and sex. They open their eyes to the horny world around them and stop being a hero, and instead become a succubus, and the ending is a massive cum filled orgy.

That sounds excessive

Yeah, it does, doesn’t it.

I’m not a fan of “corruption” systems in porn games. Corruption as a kink is totally fine, and having it be a part of the story lets you incorporate more sexuality into the plot. But as I alluded to, it snowballs pretty fast (and I’m not talking about spitting in someone’s mouth). It ends up being like a cheat code, where you’re bypassing parts of the game for no cost. It stops being a reward, it stops being unexpected, and it stops it from being sexy.

Wait, what? Stops being sexy? What’s not sexy about a succubus orgy?

Alright, listen, we gotta rein it in for a minute. This isn’t so much about game design as it is about writing erotica, but if you have a world where everyone’s fucking and sucking 24/7, there’s no contrast to make what would normally be a hot taboo a hot taboo. If everybody’s naked, nobody’s naked. The aforementioned snowball effect of a corruption system can be seen if you play literally any game that has one. It won’t take long to not have to engage with any combat or adventuring system if you can just press the “Submit to the big dick warlock” button and watch porn to progress.

Which, now that I said that, is exactly the problem. Imagine any other rpg you’ve ever played. Now imagine if every encounter and dialogue option had an option to just watch a short cutscene to skip the encounter. That would suck ass, right? Literally no difference here.

It would. Hey, I’m sort of lost now.

Don’t worry, we’re wrapping this up.

So what did we learn? We learned game over CGs have a critical design flaw that shouldn’t be relied on. We learned that predictable rewards can lead to boredom. We learned to keep sex as a reward and not devalue it.

To summarize, here’s a neat trick to know where to put your porn scenes.

”Would I put an Xbox Live achievement here?”

It’s that easy. “Lose to Goblins for the first time,” that’s an achievement. “Beat orc commander,” that’s an achievement. “Find Hubert the Magical Dickhead,” that’s an achievement. Using that as a guideline is foolproof. Almost.

This sounds like it’d take a lot of resources

It sure does! But don’t worry. I’ll cover that in the next post talking all about how to deal with the resource management of a porn game.

(Shoutout to Taylor, my guy for editing!)

#Leo Gab #game design #game dev

[etrata]

New Phyrexia As A Cult

Content Warnings: Heavy discussion of cults and cult recruitment, mentions of sexual coercion, abuse, gore in images (New Phyrexian art so if you’re good with that should be all clear)

I’ve seen many people talking about New Phyrexia with the release of Phyrexia: All Will Be One and March of the Machine. And I’ve seen people talk about the misconceptions of New Phyrexia, like assuming it’s a hivemind. Which leads me into the key point I wanted to discuss with this. New Phyrexia isn’t a hivemind, but there’s a reason it’s assumed to be one by most casual fans. I believe it’s most accurately conveyed as a cult, and that analysing and interpreting the specific ways it is like one has a lot of merit for how it is viewed. I’m also aware that most of what I’m saying isn’t new. Am I the first person to say New Phyrexia is a cult? No. But most of the time, I’ve seen people simply use it as a pejorative term to add on to the list of problematic buzzwords to attach when criticising New Phyrexia or the Praetors. And regardless of whether I agree with those people, I do feel it warrants much deeper exploration into why New Phyrexia is a cult.

I know this post likely will stir up a lot of people saying some not positive things about me and it but I felt it needed to be said. To those people who have a knee jerk reaction towards this and are going to immediately want to send me something criticising this, I don’t anticipate you’ll read all of this. But at the end of the document I did include a list of questions I anticipate a few readers will ask, and I would simply like to politely ask that you read that segment before sending anything to me or replying to this post.

To start talking about cults and the nature of New Phyrexia as one, it’s first necessary to answer a few important background questions. Many people are going to ask if I have personal experience with a cult. To that, yes I have, I was raised in one from birth until around age 17. I would not like to discuss this further, I am simply including this so people know when I speak here I know what I am talking about. Another important thing is the definition of a cult. What differentiates a cult from any other religion? Many people disagree on the exact definition, and every now and again you’ll get someone claiming that all religions are cults. But simplifying it that much loses track of the real harm cults do to a person. I feel a key aspect for what a cult is is Dr. Steve Hassan’s BITE model. BITE stands for Behaviour control, Information control, Thought control, and Emotion control. The key difference between a religion and a cult is one of control. Cults invade every sense of your being, they seek to make it so you don’t have a life outside the cult and what is necessary to maintain it. This is why it’s so difficult for people to leave them. There’s a sense of fear of the unknown. That if you leave there’ll be nothing out there for you. Who knows, maybe they made you do terrible things you can never undo, how will the people who weren’t there forgive you? You can accept the bad parts, because the good parts are there and there’s this giant fear of what will happen if you face the unknown, if you leave. Which brings me to my first major discussion point: Ixhel.

For the unaware, Ixhel is the protagonist of the Phyrexia: All Will Be One side story A Hollow Body, by Aysha U. Farah. It’s a fantastic read, I would highly recommend anyone who finds this essay at all interesting read it. For a brief summary, Ixhel was created by Atraxa- who was herself formerly a Mirrordin angel before every Praetor save Urabrask compleated her- to be used as a soldier/assassin. She feels devoted to Atraxa, but tries to suppress her other feelings- the feeling of love, of want of affection and approval. Throughout the story, she faces challenges to this suppression: a phyrexian named Belaxis who aids her in her mission, the Thane of Contracts himself, Geth, who challenges her on her devotion even as she kills him, and Atraxa herself in the end. She successfully completes her mission to slay Geth, but his words bother her. About her being a faceless drone, replaceable. So she takes Belaxis and Geth, and uses the Dominus of the Dross Pits to combine them into one being, now named Vishgraz. 

Atraxa is furious at the idea of their creation. But it’s not necessarily their creation itself that she really has an issue with. It’s that the creation was made without being ordered to. Vishgraz represents a threat to her not in their existence but in showing that Ixhel took an action other than what was ordered, even if she did it in hopes of imitating her superior in the cult. Because if she can take one action away from orders, she can take more. And that is a threat to her loyalty, which must be punished to ensure she stays in line, to ensure she stays another faceless drone. And Ixhel does take another action aside from orders, an even more direct disobedience: she spares Vishgraz’s life when ordered to kill them. 

Ixhel represents someone born into a cult. She only ever did what was ordered, because it was all she knew. But cults are not a natural state of mind, they’re a method of control that can be broken free from. And this shows with Ixhel. She obeyed mindlessly, until she was given another option, an idea of what could help her, what could make her fix those feelings she had been taught to ignore and repress. This is a common experience, it’s certainly one I went through. It’s not the only experience with cults though. Because another thing to mention is recruitment, and Phyrexia: All Will Be One provides a great example of this too.

Another aspect of the storyline for this set was the idea of compleated planeswalkers. This is a new thing for Magic, with the idea introduced in Kamigawa: Neon Dynasty, with Tamiyo. However this was most fully analysed during Phyrexia: All Will Be One’s main story, by Seanan McGuire (who also did a fantastic job with that story, I would highly recommend that one as well). But something I recently came to the realisation of, that I have not seen discussed, is the common factor between every single compleated planeswalker: they’re all the exact types of people who are most vulnerable to recruitment by cults.

If you’re reading this and thinking “most vulnerable” I want you to keep in mind I mean exactly that. Anyone is vulnerable to recruitment by a cult, especially if you think you’re too smart to be recruited. And that’s where our first victim I’ll discuss comes in, Jace Beleren. Jace is a man who prides himself on his intelligence, on his skill with his mind. But in the story, he falls prey to New Phyrexia because he underestimates them, and overestimates his own skills. The love of his life, Vraska, has clearly fallen to compleation. But he thinks he can be smarter; he can use his illusion and mind magic to give her one last day, one last day together with him, where they can pretend like she hasn’t been infected. And that is what makes him be taken in by the cult.

Jace fell for it because he wanted to be clever and thought he was too smart, but also out of love and devotion to someone else who fell. I believe even if he knew what would happen he would do it again out of devotion. And who knows, the story so far seems to imply he had a plan, that he knew what he was doing. Maybe I’ll be proven wrong and he’ll turn out on top of this situation. But even so, he still lost to New Phyrexia due to this.

Next off is Vraska, another key type to fall for cults. Vraska throughout her entire life has been abused by society, a victim of racism and police brutality. All of those are horrific acts done against her. And cults reach out to those people, they tell them they have the answer, that if they simply follow them they will find the ability to help other downtrodden like themselves, or find a sense of community with others who will not judge them, so long as they follow the rules. Lukka is also very similar to this, but slightly different. Lukka is an outcast, rejected by his entire society, like a very extreme example of ostracisation and bullying. Humans are naturally social creatures, and this can easily be turned against us with a want for acceptance leading us to take abuse we should not tolerate. New Phyrexia also promises him strength, the strength with which he can avoid being hurt again, which he can use to carve a new place in this world and hurt everyone who hurt him, but much much worse. 

Nahiri also falls under a similar umbrella with Lukka, but slightly less self motivated. Nahiri has a burning desire for revenge, for power against the figure in her life who let her down, Sorin Markov. But also, she believes in her heart of hearts that she is a protector, that everything she’s doing is to protect her homeland and her people, the Kor. And what leads her to being compleated is this sense of protection. She sacrifices her own health and her chance at a cure because she wants to ensure the success of the mission of stopping New Phyrexia. And her self sacrifice to do this may have helped the mission succeed, but it doomed her to fall.

Nissa is very similar to her here actually, as she also fell due to helping someone. She trusted Lukka, and tried to help him to the end, and this led her right into New Phyrexia’s trap. Others who fell this way too include Ajani and Tamiyo. They all trusted someone or sought to protect someone, and that trust was used against them. This shows the type of people who fall for cults because they are selfless. Those who fall because they don’t see a value in their own worth as an individual, but do see it as a collective. This is one of the major flaws of white mana: it’s bad at putting yourself first. It’s so easy to simply fall in line with a cult when you’re used to falling in line and obeying to help the greater good, because with the right words it’s easy to convince anyone that anything is the greater good. It feels safe to take some sacrifice, because after all, we’re taught to admire martyrs. We’re taught to emulate, and share. And those are good instincts don’t get me wrong, one of the most beautiful things about humanity is our capacity for love for our fellow man, the ability for strangers to care for strangers so readily just because they need help. But cults take advantage of that, and New Phyrexia is no different. 

This is also touched on in the story Cinders, by Cassandra Khaw. This story is unique because it showcases an aspect of New Phyrexia we haven’t touched on here, the Quiet Furnace. While most aspects of New Phyrexia are definitely considered bad, the Quiet Furnace is the one I’ve seen the most arguments for about it being ethical and good. And while it has the most potential for good with this freedom, it also shows more of how cults prey on the most vulnerable. In the story, a Mirran woman, Reyana, is tempted towards compleation by Slobad. Reyana lost everything. She’s fighting a war she never asked to fight, constantly on the run, constantly in fear for her life. And they show her her mother. At peace with the cult, happy, caring. A lot of people join cults simply to follow loved ones. And this is the exact way Reyana joined. A key thing to showcase that this was not genuine freedom, that despite this promise of peace this was a corruption of herself, is the consequences after. Does Slobad and his group allow the Mirrans to freely mingle with the compleat, to simply talk among them knowing they chose differently? No. While he claims this is a free choice, he also artificially holds back interaction between the cultists and their Mirran family, all interaction unless it is for the purpose of recruitment. This shows the real reason for all of this. It’s a show, a show that things can be good, a promise that life will be better if you join and obey, because those you care about made that choice too. If they really believed in this freedom of choice, the Quiet Furnace would not shun contact with Mirrans, simply tolerating their presence without compleating them, it would embrace contact with them, embrace the diversity of perspective those who did not choose the same as the compleat bring to the table. There are good people among the phyrexians, people who believe what they are doing is right and towards peace, towards helping everyone come to a common understanding. Most criticisms of New Phyrexia I’ve seen make the mistake of calling them all monsters, not thinking for a moment that they aren’t monsters, but people, people who made a bad choice for good reasons. But those people don’t realise that they themselves are a victim, a lure in a trap to make others take a choice they never would’ve made otherwise, with the threat of losing contact with their loved ones if they don’t make that leap.

Another point to consider is what cults offer you, and what New Phyrexia offers you. People join cults because they promise something they lack. Most often that is a sense of community, of welcoming, of becoming, and of love. The price to pay is simply your individuality. When you think about New Phyrexia, that fits perfectly in theme. The oil takes away your worries, it makes you unconcerned with what troubled you prior to your compleation. It doesn’t feel like something wrong, something infecting you, it feels like…. completion. Like something you’ve always been missing has been found. And that’s alluring. That’s genuinely a tempting proposition. Think to yourself, what price would you be willing to pay to not have to think for yourself anymore, to be able to feel safe and just live day to day. That’s the promise of cults. And that’s the promise of New Phyrexia. But it’s not a healthy promise. Following charismatic leaders blindly simply leads to suffering, whether it’s for you or those outside the cult, or others inside of it. This is even shown in the text, in the story for March of the Machine by K. Arsenault Rivera. 

When Elspeth faces off against Elesh Norn, she has been changed. She gave up her life in a moment of turmoil, sacrificed her being to save the multiverse. And she was ascended because of it, having her sense of self altered and her physical form transmuted, when her only choice otherwise was death. Sound familiar? So when Elspeth threatens Norn's rule of power, what does Norn promise her? Friends among the phyrexians, lovers among them. She points out their similarities, how Elspeth is transformed as well, simply in a way deemed prettier by society, how her form is irrevocably altered, how she has a creed she is following just as much as Norn. And Elspeth does think of this offer, she does look around and think of how happy everyone looks, how content they seem to be to be cogs in a great machine forged with glorious purpose. But Elesh Norn doesn’t even think to talk about the consent of those people in the cult for whether they’d even want to be Elspeth’s friend or lover. Many cult members do end up coerced into relationships they do not want, and this is a showing that Norn is no different from any base cult leader. She knows that people deserve freedom of choice, and freedom of thought. The moment Elspeth realises Norn is wrong, the moment she realises she is nothing like Norn, despite the similarities between her religion and Norn’s cult, is seeing how Norn treats Jin-Gitaxias. Jin raises a simple objection, a logical one, that Norn is spending time discussing and talking while their soldiers, their people, are dying. And Norn tells him to be silent. Chief among all things, cults silence dissent against the leader. One could say that’s the cardinal sin in a cult. And that is what makes Elspeth realise she could never be like Norn. And hopefully, eventually, it is what will help Elspeth keep in touch with her humanity after her transformation. Because no matter what, the key lesson is, even the strongest of us is still vulnerable to temptation, to the urge to lose ourselves in obedience of another. And it's more important now than ever to remember to fight that urge.

Anticipated Questions (FAQ I Suppose But Ahead Of Time)

But I don’t see New Phyrexia this way, I think it’s (Insert X Narrative): That’s your view. You’re entirely entitled to it. This wouldn’t be very much of a good essay talking about cults and the importance of the freedom of choice if I insisted everyone else follow my point of view and agree entirely with everything I’ve said.

Are you saying I’m wrong for liking New Phyrexia?: Not at all. Again with the point before, this is my interpretation I am posting for literary merit in hopes it may interest others and perhaps aid their understanding of New Phyrexia. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with liking villains. It’s simply an understanding I came to through a lot of thinking about New Phyrexia I felt others may enjoy. The last thing I want is to start some sort of flame war over this. In fact if you use this essay to start such a flame war and try and make others conform to your beliefs, you have missed the point entirely.

Tell me about your personal experience with cults: Respectfully no. I will talk about that to people I am comfortable talking about it with. People who friend me on Discord may ask me, I may answer but I will not mind them asking. Otherwise I prefer not to share.

If you don’t want people to change their views, why did you post this essay?: I was thinking about my personal experience with cults and I thought others may want to see them and it may interest others, and it helped me type out my own personal feelings.

Isn’t it meritorious to discuss how New Phyrexia also has Christofascist elements with the Machine Orthodoxy and the specifics of the religion and how Norn demands they conquer?: For this specific essay, I actually believe no. A key thing a lot of people don’t think about is not all cults are the same belief systems. They don’t all approach with end of the world rhetoric, or some crazy theory, or hatred of others. Sometimes they’re a group preaching love and acceptance and tolerance, and claiming that you will feel much better with the cult. Sometimes they’re groups trying to take in the underserved of society and use their righteous indignation to serve their own ends. It doesn’t matter that New Phyrexia is Christofascist for why it is a cult, for all we care it could be about refusing violence entirely and spreading tolerance and goodwill to non phyrexians and preaching for coexistence. The key common factor is a manipulation of the members and control of their lives.

Despite all this I’m going to send you an ask or DM saying you’re horrible for this post in some moralistic way: Ok.

#magic the gathering #new phyrexia #MTG essay #Phyrexia: all will be one #march of the machine

[soulprompts]

THE ART OF TIME SLIPPING. ( A PROMPT LIST! )

an absolute genius of a nonnie requested these, and i had a weekend off, and i wanted to write these because, i mean. time travel is a tasty concept on its own, but ACCIDENTAL time travel???? exceptional! anyway, my beloved nonnie, i truly hope that these are what you were looking for! and i hope everyone else enjoys them too! as always: DO NOT ADD TO THIS LIST OF PROMPTS! and do not claim them as your own!

FROM THE ACCIDENTAL TIME TRAVELLER:

“ look, i get it. I do. you have no reason to believe what i’m saying. but i promise you: i’m from the future. “

“ how many times do i need to tell you?! i’m not even born yet! you won’t see my birth records for months/years/centuries yet! “

“ wait… hold on a second, what year is it? “

“ you don’t even have the first idea what this feels like. i just found out that i somehow missed the last [INSERT TIME SPAN HERE] of my life, and in the blink of an eye. “

“ listen, this is going to sound mad, but… you’re my mother/father/parent [OR OTHER RELATIVE]. i can’t prove it, but you are. It’s the truth. i swear. “

“ i don’t understand how i came to your time. but i do know i need to get back to my one. “

“ i seriously wish you’d all stop asking me these questions! i don’t know how i got here! i just… slipped! it just happened! “

“ it’s so weird. all this stuff that’s going to happen between now and my time… i don’t even know if i should tell you about it. “

“ all the times i wanted to be alone, or i wanted to just be somewhere that nobody knew me… this isn’t what i wanted. “

“ i just want to go back to my own timeline. okay? I didn’t want any of this to happen. i never meant… this is so messed up. “

“ wait, you believe me?! i just told you a completely wild story about being from another time, and you just… trust that i’m being honest?! “

“ the wildest thing is, i didn’t do anything to get here. you know? i didn’t drive super fast, i didn’t turn a hot tub into a time machine. i just… i was home, then i was here. “

“ i guess there’s a risk it could happen to other people in my timeline, but i’m more concerned about me right now. “

" if i don't go back... there's no knowing what could happen. and if there's the slightest risk that you might stop existing if i choose to stay, then i don't wanna stay. your world needs you. okay? "

" hey. no matter what happens now, i want you to know that i'll never forget you. you believed me and my unbelievable story about time travel. that's not something that gets forgotten easily. "

TO THE ACCIDENTAL TIME TRAVELLER:

“ prove it. prove that you’re from a different time. then i might think about believing you. “

“ …sure… you’re from the future, yeah? okay pal, i believe you. so tell me, when was the last time you slept? “

“ this is some kind of dumb prank, isn’t it? wow. well done, well played, you nearly had me. jeez, time travel… that’s just next level insanity right there… “

“ i don’t know why, but… i think i’m going to believe you. it doesn’t make a single bit of sense, but fine. you’re from the future/past. “

“ how did you end up here? or should i say… now? “

“ haven’t you seen a single time travel movie? if you stay in this time, that could mess up the entire world! “

“ i… imagine this must be very weird for you. right? or is that the dumbest understatement of the millennium? “

“ if you’re from the past, then that means we should probably keep you away from the history books. it feels like a solid rule not to spoil your future for you. “

“ look, i can’t watch all those cheesy sci-fi flicks and then ignore the possibility that people can travel through time. “

“ no. no, i don’t believe you. i don’t believe a word of what you just said. but i figure i have nothing better to do, and i kinda wanna see where you’re going with this crazy story, so… let’s go out on a limb and say you’re telling me the truth. “

“ hey, i’m asking the questions here! you don’t get to just zap into my back yard and then assume you get to ask all these questions! who are you, and how did you get here?! “

“ did you live here before? or… like, in the future, i mean? “

“ the way i see it, there’s a lot of far easier lies to believe before you could ever expect anyone to swallow the whole time travel schtick. which probably means you’re telling the truth. “

" look. you wanna get back to your own timeline, right? that means we need to replicate everything that happened the exact second you showed up here. so let's go. "

" this is completely absurd! how did you end up here?! science? magic? how! this completely destroys any and all theories of quantum physics! you just... blinked into the past/future! it's just not possible! "

" from what you're telling me, it sounds like you could end up destroying the universe just by staying here too long. so let's find a way to get you back home. "

" you don't get it! if you're from the past, that means you need to stay there in order to keep this timeline safe. right? like the butterfly theory. if you're not there in the past, then you can't do your part to secure this timeline. we could stop existing if you don't go back! "

" i mean... would it really be so bad it you stayed? sure, a new timeline would exist, but... it'd be our timeline. where you and i get to stay together. that's not so bad, is it? "

#roleplay meme #rp meme #sentence starters #ask meme #writing prompts #roleplay prompts #rp prompt #rp memes #writing prompt #roleplay starters

[estrellami-1]

If I Should Stay

Part 1 | . . . | Part 29 | Part 30 | Part 31

Chemistry isn’t any better than Steve remembers it. He shares Algebra with Nancy, though, so they sit together and work through the problems, getting done much faster this time around than he’d remembered doing so the first time.

He catches her looking at him, sometimes, and finally sighs, halfway through a problem. “Look, Nance, I get if this is gonna be weird now. If it would make it easier, we could officially break up. Have a big fight in public where one of us storms off, maybe. If it would help with… with closure, or whatever.”

She narrows her eyes at him. “Even if we painted you as the asshole?”

He smiles. “It’s not like most our classmates don’t already know me as such.”

She shrugs. “Even if we said you cheated on me?”

He’s not fast enough to keep his expression from shuttering. “If… if that’s what would help you-”

“Steve,” she says softly. Almost too softly. “When are you gonna stick up for yourself?”

He ducks his head and chuckles. “Still working on that,” he admits. “I’m fine, though, I can take it. So if you need-”

“Steve,” she interrupts. “We can just break up. Just normal. Like how we did. There doesn’t need to be a big fight or anything, we can just say that we realized we aren’t right for each other.” She tilts her head. “Cause it’s true, isn’t it? We’re not right for each other.”

Steve smiles at her. “You’re very driven,” he murmurs. “It’s something that initially drew me to you. But we weren’t ever gonna make it. I was talking with someone last night, about being compatible. And we just… aren’t, really. I’m not nearly as motivated as you, and I need someone more laid back. You need someone who’s gonna do what he can to help you reach your full potential.”

“And that wouldn’t have been you?”

Steve hums. “I think I would’ve tried my best,” he says. “But I’m still living under my father’s shadow, and the most he’d want you to be is a housewife.” She makes a face, and he laughs. “Exactly. I think maybe if we’d met later, after I’d realized I don’t owe him anything, maybe things would be different. But as it is… I’m being haunted by things that haven’t even happened yet. And won’t, now, because of what we’re trying to do. But that’s not fair to you.”

“And what I did to you wasn’t fair to you,” she says softly. “For what it’s worth, I am sorry.”

He stares at her for a moment, then looks abruptly down at his paper. “So, for number six, I’m still not understanding the polynomials.” He catches her sympathetic smile as she ducks her head to look at where he’s pointing.

“Okay, this is easy,” she says, and it feels like closure.

Still, he drags Robin into an empty classroom later. “Oh boy,” she says. “That’s a Nancy look. What did she do? Do I need to stop being friendly towards her?”

“No, Robs,” he chuckles, pulling her into a hug. “Just… it’s been a day, okay?”

“You can say that again,” she agrees, and wraps him in a hug tight enough he squeaks.

“It was good,” he finally manages. “We talked, during Algebra. Um. She apologized.”

“Oh, Steve,” Robin murmurs, and hugs him even tighter.

He buries his face in her hair. “Love you, Robbie.”

“Love you, dingus,” she murmurs. “Always.”

They stand like that for a few minutes, until the next bell rings and Steve pulls back with an apologetic smile. “Don’t wanna make us late.”

“Screw school,” Robin replies immediately, the way Steve knew she would. “I’m here for you.”

He grins sheepishly at her. “Next class is gym,” he says. “With Eddie. And all the guys I used to be friends with.”

Robin nods knowingly. “And you started burning those bridges with Tommy today,” she adds. “Yeah, okay. Go get your man.”

Steve chuckles and squeezes her one last time. “What class do you have?”

“Art.”

“Ooh,” he teases, because he knows she shares that class with Tammy.

“Fuck off,” she mutters, rolling her eyes and shoving him away.

He just gets right back into her space. She lets him. “Never,” he grins.

She fights down a smile as she pushes past him. “I thought you had gym?”

“Oh, fuck,” he says, and rushes to the lockers.

He can hear her laughter following him all the way.

Because his life must hate him, the gym teacher chooses dodgeball as the activity of the day.

Steve’s good at dodgeball, but he’s never been on the team opposite his friends. He’d always been the captain, and he’d always picked them for a reason: they’re good at the game.

But now it seems like the whole school is aware of his and Tommy’s parting, and they’ve all unanimously decided to side with Tommy.

Not that Steve cares about any of that at all. He’d just like to get through this class without a concussion.

Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect @i-less-than-three-you @alyelf @quarble @messrs-weasley @littlewildflowerkitten @vankaar @starman-jpg @bornonthesavage @steddie-there @goodolefashionedloverboi @andienotannie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @platinum-sunset @just-ladyme @steddiestains @swimmingbirdrunningrock @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @martinskis-lydias @notaqueenakhaleesi @sleepyboosstuff @bestwifehaver @m-owo-n @thatonebadideapanda @finalmoondragon @velocitytimes2 @callmeanythjing @ajeff855 @ilikeititspretty @knitsforthetrail @sillysparrow @that-one-corvid @ace-is-bored @muricel @harpymoth @weirdandabsurd42

Fic Taglist: @blondlanfear @do-you-want-something-more @str4wb3rry-guy @paperbackribs @ninjapirateunicorns @bisexualdisastersworld @hiscrimsonangel @lolawonsstuff @xo-r4e @thedragonsaunt @l0st-strawberry

#stranger things #if I should stay #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #platonic stobin #nancy wheeler #past stancy #fix it fic #time travel #time travel fx it fic #starambles

[aliengoose]

OK GENLOSS THOUGHTS LETS GO

as lots of people are saying I reckon this episode was supposed to give us an idea of how the show is “supposed” to run, and that’s partly why it was so silly and goofy. the eerier bits were all about things that aren’t “supposed” to happen.

in terms of plot it seems ranboo has been kidnapped by showfall and is being mind-controlled by us as sort of “players”. he comments once or twice about not knowing why he’s doing something or not being in full control, and occasionally appears to become more lucid (a few people have pointed out that the mask flashes at these points). basically ranboo is being used as a videogame character to entertain the masses by showfall media.

i cannot figure sneeg out, he’s clearly not being mind controlled seeing he “cheats” with the scissors and also doesn’t have any mask to suggest he’s under control, plus we don’t get to control him at all. I’m thinking perhaps he was an earlier main character test that made showfall realise they need more control over them.

Somethings up with charlie and idk what. if showfall is going “hey lets get these internet personalities to be our unwilling characters in this game” it would make sense for why he’s got the slime motifs and all that. BUT how can they be sure he’s doing what they want him to? perhaps he is affected by slime the same way sneeg was? maybe showfall figured out a way to use slime to control him? much to think about.

there’s also the possibility that it’s just not that deep but i do think it’s supposed to give the impression that the entire thing is happening in our world and isn’t scripted or anything. that’s why i love the choice to act it all out live, it doesn’t just allow for more interaction, it is literally a live broadcast of an game featuring fun “characters”. I really hope there’s some deeper meaning in that, about the treatment of people as entertainment without thought for their own health and wellbeing, and the way entertainers often have to play a caricature of themselves to appease their audience.

i know a lot of people have been talking about a face reveal in genloss and given the mask is linked to controlling ranboo and they literally cannot take it off right now i see it going one of 3 ways;

1. he takes the mask off and we get a face reveal (doubt)

2. he takes the mask off BUT they’re wearing another mask underneath. seems like something they’d do

3. he doesn’t get the mask off. we lost. ranboo is stuck under the control of showfall media with only short periods of lucidity. ranboo said at one point that we should be left with a feeling of dread. maybe there’s no escape. what’s more terrifying than doing everything right and still being doomed?

ok that’s all i can think of for now sorry it’s a long post but idk how to add a read more on mobile ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. i’ll edit this if i think of anything else i guess?

edit: this is blowing up i have genloss art in my pinned and plans to make more 👀

edit 2: @pinkpuffballdude ‘s tags reminded me!!! i had completely forgotten to talk about sneeg being awake and staring with dead eyes through the whole sleep part. THAT was creepy. It made me think of NPCs to be honest, the way he wasn’t able to do anything but being forced to witness everything happening, not being able to sleep without a bed. I don’t know how to explain it right now and i’ll come back here if i figure it out. BUT he also talks about refusing to do the cooking show which is the main thing that got me thinking he was a past mc who’s been locked away. also aligns with his “the taken” name in The Game.

#genloss #generation loss #ranboo #sneegsnag #charlie slimecicle #slimecicle #i’m honestly still processing this #can’t wait for it to get creepy and gorey tho #hope ranboo is alright too - he seems alright so hopefully just something the doctors can patch up real quick #goose.txt

[corviids]

You should know that someone is stirring problems with your art and the latest installments in gilded lilies. You should know in case you get bombarded with hate comments https://twitter.com/litathesissy/status/1672795383196418049?t=uZjfGFALpfuXW_l9DkkmMA&s=19

i drafted this entire thing and then my app refreshed so bear with me 😭 i’m also at dinner with my fam but wanted to say something

1. the art: referencing older artists like claude monet isn’t uncommon (at least in the art circles i’ve ran it) but in hindsight i understand that wasn’t the best choice to do without explicitly stating i did so so i take 100% accountability for that. i honestly wasn’t giving it much thought just because that drawing specifically, i worked on-forgot about-and then saw in my files and was like “hey lemme post that”. if you want insight into how i drew it, i side by sided my canvas and reference and then overlay after doing the sketch to correct the funkiness. i will definitely add an edit stating i referenced it.

2. the fic: another author reached out to me earlier regarding this this morning and we discussed it in private but i think it best to just say something here: the similarities in the specific scene are a complete coincidence. i have had aenys presenting and going feral as a result of luke planned for a while bc i’ve known i wanted aenys to be an alpha since the start. the specific “i’m his mother” “i’m your uncle” was meant to both be kinda hot but also show how different luke and aemond’s mindsets are towards their kids. luke tunnel visions whereas aemond recognizes their natures. i have discussed the aenys-aemond-luke dynamic pretty extensively elsewhere (bc i wanna keep nsfw off here), but there is a through line in my fics that aenys is a protective mamas boy and aemond is jealous of that. as for the setting, i frequently use the training yards in my fics when i want public displays to happen (and the nursery in private). i can only say that the similarities where not at all intentional.

3. as for the specific fic, i have read it in the past but in all honesty, i never retain specific scenes in fics. this isn’t bc an authors works are not being memorable, simply that i struggle to retain info beyond my hyperfixations bc my adhd. this is why i struggle to rec fics when asked. i’ve had numerous scrapped fics bc as i worked on them, something similar popped up and i didn’t wanna create that overlap. i genuinely did not even think about the other fic while writing mine. i went into it wanting to write heat sex but also wanted to build on the world of gilded lilies by giving some info on what the kids are up to as they are older

if the other author would like me to add a note in my fic regarding the similarities, i would be happy to discuss it with them as i don’t want to do it without their permission bc i haven’t seen anything from them and don’t want to involve them if they do not want to be.

to kinda conclude, the similarities were not at all intentional. the ideas in this fic for that scene was mostly based on things i’ve already messed around with and constant rambling with others in discord. as for the art, i once again take accountability for that and apologize for being so careless with it.

also: please do not harass anyone. i want to believe no one will but i just want to say that bc i’ve seen drama unfold before in past fandoms and want to avoid exposing people to that.

lemme know if y’all want me to expand upon anything else :)

#sorry if this is a mess #just wanted to say something cuz i’ve already gotten some nasty anons #asks

[just-sp-in-inginthevoid]

Analysing Benkei & Wakasa's tattoos and clothes on their volume cover !

Starting with Benkei’s tattoo :

First, the Mitsudomoe, the spinning thingies the bulls have on their head/as their head. It is associated with samurai, martial arts and the God of War Hachiman. It can symbolize several things such as : life, water, protection, man-earth-sky, earth-heaven-underworld…

I couldn’t find much about cows/bulls in Japan. But there’s still Akabeko (‘red bull’) that I can talk about, although I don’t see how it can be linked to Benkei (maybe it’ll come to me later).

They aren’t popular animal in Japan, they don’t hold a huge cultural importance/influence (unlike foxes, turles, koi or cranes for example). They are associated with the god Tenjin, god of scholars, academics and learning. In Aizu, they are said to have saved the people from a smallpox epidemic.

And an important fact : it’s Ragnarok’s emblem.

He was barely 14 when BD was created. Actually, his birthday had been the week prior ! And he already got his tattoo, so he was 13 at most when he got tattoed. Probably when he became Ragnarok 3rd Generation leader, perhaps before ? We don’t know how he got into Ragnarok after all. And here’s the thing, 13 isn’t the oldest a tr character was when they got tattooed – Draken & Mitsuya where like 10 – but Benkei’s tattoos, 1. cover his pectorals and upper-arms, like some irezumi, Yakuza tattoo, 2. it’s Ragnarok emblems. The only other characters I can think of that got their gang/organisation tattooed on their body are Bonten members. And they aren’t 13 or younger.

Benkei got a full Irezumi, although with rather tribal art/not traditional japanese art/not how Irezumi commonly look (and also i don’t think he got anything on his back) at age 13 or younger.

The ‘why’ lies in his backstory which we can only make suppositions on (since we don’t have it ofc). He (and Wakasa) could have been around delinquents (notably, the previous Ragnarok leaders) as a child. And if that happened before 1992 and the anti-gangs laws (which were really anti-yakuza only), then, yes, he could’ve gotten a full-irezumi that young, thinking he’d become a yakuza someday (which Ragnarok leaders 1 & 2 probably did)

Ragnarok should mean a lot to him to get such imposing tattoos on his body.

Now, about Wakasa.

The only visible thing are the flowers. They’re don’t seem to be camelias like he has on his Brahman uniform but rather peonies or roses (take that with a pinch of salt, I’m not a flower professionnal). Peonies symbolize honor, bravery, courage, good fortune, wealth, prosperity. It’s is nicknamed ‘the queen/king of flowers’ as well as ‘the rose without thorns’ and is a common filler in irezumi. Roses symbolize the same things as they do in the western flower language – to name the best-known, love and passion.

And then there’s this thing

And I’m going full instinct and say it’s a komainu. Because it’d make SO MUCH sense for Wakasa (and it would for Benkei too!) to have one.

The important things about Komainu for this post are : 1. they’re guardians of sacred places in Japan (such as Buddhist temples and Shinto shrines), ward off evil spirits, are deities’ protectors, and are always in pair 2. most of the time, one has its mouth open, the other has its closed. do you see where i’m coming from and where i’m going.

I don’t need to extant on the first point, you all get it, and the second, I think you do too but –

Wakui really just decided to always make Benkei grin his teeth and Wakasa always (?at least mostly) has his mouth shut. Because. Because they’re Shinichiro’s (and possibly Takeomi’s, most definitely BD as a whole) guardians.

Wakui Ken is a very funny man imo

About their volume cover now, Wakasa keeps his peonies, and add plum or cherry blossoms. I’ll stick with plum, since cherry blossoms are Senju’s flowers. Plum blossom symbolize good fortune, herald of spring and ward off evil spirits.

Benkei is the one to have (opened) camelias (or peonies ! Opened peonies look like that, too, althought with more petals) this time, among waves. Waves symbolize movement, strength, fluidity, life. It compares life to water ; both can be strong and swift but also gentle and calm ; power and resilience.

He has several Mitsudomoe as well which come with Raijin and Fujin (one of the rare things I’m 100 % sure of).

Wakasa was meant to represent Fujin and Benkei Raijin. 1, those two are rivals and fight for the control over the sky 2, Raijin has Mitsudomoe and Fujin wears clothes made of leopard skin 3, Raijin has a red skin – Benkei was nicknamed Red Cliff because of that one time he walked out a fight covered in blood.

Futhermore, Fujin is the god of wind – Wakasa’s fighting style is light and fast – and is nonchalant ; apathetic (as he can be both the calm wind and the storm) – which fits Wakasa’s own personality. Raijin is the god of thunder and owns hammers – like Thor. Both Fujin and Raijin cause troubles but aren’t evil spirits.

And since by analysing Benkei’s tattoos I analyse Ragnarok emblem, have the only thing I figured about to Kodo Rengo’s :

It looks like a raising sun with its rays. The triangle is most likely Wakasa, while the rays (there are 12 of them) are each of the gangs that make up Kodo Rengo. The sun is the source of all life and light and has cleansing powers, yada yada, they were made to rivalize Benkei’s Ragnarok. Plus, the rays kinda look like spears ? You know, to push Ragnarok back ? And it’s also Japan/Japanese Imperial Family/Japan ‘main’ godess, Amaterasu‘s symbol. Wakasa is never beating my those young-master-from-a-yakuza-family allegations. Never.

#also i cant see what is tattooed on benkei’s chest and it’s pissing me off #is it another part of the body of the bulls ? #tr #tokrev #tokyo revengers #tok rev #No wonder Wakasa and Benkei are called living legends. Men were both inspired by Benkei and Yoshitsune no Minamoto + Raijin and Fujin #tr wakasa #tr benkei #tokrev wakasa #tokrev benkei #wakasa imaushi #arashi keizo #arashi keizou #benwaka #black dragon #black dragon first gen

[mikauhso]

Small fandom rant, feel free not to read.

I don’t really care what an artist has done as a person, unless they’re like literally hitler or someone who you’d punch in public for their crimes, I find it a bit sad and annoying how so many artists online are willing to tear down someone else’s art to say “I did it better.” It’s one thing to give constructive crit in good faith, and it’s another to make an OC-ified version of canon out of your love for something, but creating something out of spite will almost always ring hollow for me. I see so much good art duct taped to posts about how “here I fixed it” or “lol you can’t draw” and I think back to the time when I learned the phrase, “you’ll attract more flies with honey than vinegar.” It disheartens me to see artists and people I’d know to be kind and constructive not extend the same kind of care hey show irl to someone online based on their parasocial relation to them. It’s such a low-stakes game and people will act like a mid show having characters they enjoy is the end of the world, and in doing so will take personal snipes and make insults at the art instead of addressing the actual problem head on, because it’s easier to derail and funnel attention and love towards yourself instead of ask that others improve. I love redesigns born of love. I love rewrites that try to see an artist’s vision, but at a certain point I wonder if people even like what they’re making art about or if they’re slapping something recognizable over top of it in order to ride trends.

The internet normalizes clout chasing to the point where I feel like we do it almost instinctively. That little insult or sly comment at the end of a post, that’ll sway people to your side. Saying why you don’t like some person despite not knowing them. It’s valid to have your opinions but I wish people would act like they would in the real world. You wouldn’t go around and scream at someone who you saw post this one thing one time. You wouldn’t punch someone based on a rumor, or verbally berate them in a restaurant. Yet people post so much shit online and it’s so normalized that we don’t even register it as a sign to log off anymore.

I feel like social media is something incredibly important for communication, but it’s currently designed in a way that centers ourselves and how much dopamine we can get, whether it’s at the expense of others, ourselves, etc. And we’re part of the problem too, we refuse to change and recognize that maybe internet points aren’t worth it and maybe it shouldn’t matter what people think of us. And maybe it’s an opinion I have but I shouldn’t judge someone based on what fraction they put out on the internet of themselves. Maybe I should cook myself a snack or go out for a walk or sit on the balcony or in the yard, talk to a friend face to face. Again, I love what the internet has done for accessibility but every accessible thing is locked behind a service designed to ignore vitriol and anger towards one another.

I guess I fall prey to this too, but I’ve seen this pattern happen again and again and again. There are people behind everything that’s made, and unless it’s ai or something stolen, an artist put their time and heart into it. It’s part of the game to have tough skin but I wish it didn’t have to be a necessity because of spiteful people.

I guess I should add an addendum, this is about a pattern I’ve seen in many a fandom. This isn’t about the morality of a show’s crew or whatever, that’s a conversation for another day that I’m not getting involved in because the personal lives of others are no business of mine. Hah, there I go again. But in all seriousness. I’ve seen it in Hazbin Hotel. I’ve seen it with High Guardian Spice. Velma. Steven universe. The owl house. Any new show I’ve seen come out where someone decides to have a moment and say “I will create out of spite and a need to be seen.” I wish artists didn’t feel the need to ride trends and that we’d value each others’ work as much as something put out by Disney. But that too, is a post for another day.

#fandom #fandom in general #some thoughts on redesigns #redesigns #Hazbin hotel #I don’t really know if I expect people to read this or not I just had to get it out somewhere #Velma #high guardian spice #online fandoms are fascinating #general internet stuff #character redesign #out of spite #spite isn’t healthy #at least not consistently

[excelsi-or]

summoned (epilogue: pt. 16)

pairing: woozi x fem!reader/fem!OC

w.c. 1.8k (just a little fluff to end of this series)

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11 | part 12 | part 13 | part 14 | part 15 | part 16

EPILOGUE

The evening of the end of the world, the angels and demons drop the humans off at Hansol’s apartment.

As soon as Seungkwan sees them, he says, “That’s it. We’re having a dinner party.”

She doesn’t have the energy to argue. She even takes the beer that Hansol offers.

That sets Seungkwan off even more, and the storm turns into a whirlwind.

“Seokmin and Jihoon can’t come.”

“They can’t? Why not? You and Jihoon have been tied at the hip since we met him.”

“Uh…” She meets Hansol’s eye as he returns from his bedroom with a change of clothes. “How much do we share?”

Seungkwan cuts Hansol off before he can even open his mouth. “You smell like smoke, your dress is burnt, Hansol is ravenous and not eating leftovers. Something’s happened. Do I need to add that the sky was bright red? I was about to try to get home to my family because I thought that the world was ending. But now, all of a sudden, it’s fine.”

Hansol takes her by the shoulders and guides her towards the bathroom. “You go shower. I’ll deal with Seungkwan until everyone comes over. Gives you time to decide if you want to share.” 

“You’re honestly the best. The best best friend ever.”

Hansol clucks his tongue. “You’re welcome, Antichrist. Go shower.”

As she’s about to close the door, she tells him she isn’t the Antichrist anymore.

“How can you suddenly just not be it anymore?”

She shrugs. “My mom explained it, like, since the world didn’t end with me as it was supposed to, there’ll be another Antichrist.”

“So, now you’re just… you’re just human?”

She nods.

“And your parents?”

“Well, for foiling the Great Plan or whatever they call it, no go. Dad doesn’t get his soul back. Mom didn’t really have hope anyway.” There’s a quiver in her voice that Hansol hasn’t heard in a while.

“Oh.” Hansol pushes his way into the bathroom to wrap his arms around her. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry it didn’t work out.” He pretends as if he can’t feel the tears against his neck. He isn’t quite sure what it means that they don’t get their souls back. He’s still baffled that his best friend was, but is no longer, the Antichrist.

When she pulls away, he can’t tell that she’d been crying. “They have human lives to live, and I get to keep my soul. Apparently, that’s worth it to them.”

“Have you told them about your demon boyfriend?”

“Jihoon said he’s going home,” she says. “Nothing here to entertain him anymore.”

“Hansol-ah! I need you to peel the vegetables!” Seungkwan calls.

A few days after the end of the world, with Jeonghan and Seungcheol’s wedding to now plan for (they heard it could’ve been the end of the world and decided they were getting married ASAP), she isn’t expecting to walk up to her apartment door and not have a door to open.

Annoyed, she pats the wall in the general area where her doorknob should be.

“If this demon also fucking locked my door, he’s being kicked out,” she mutters as her hand finds the knob.

Luckily for the demon, it’s unlocked.

From her doorway, she can see him stretched out on her couch in sweatpants and his favourite red hoodie, a book hovering over his head.

“You said you were going home.”

The book lowers slightly so he can see her, unfazed by her lack of greeting. “I did.”

“So, what are you doing here?”

“Hanging out.”

“Okay, but where’s the human who summoned you?”

“There isn’t one.” Jihoon sets the book down: The Alchemist. Definitely not hers. “I just came to see you.”

This causes her to pause. “Me.”

Jihoon shrugs. “Earth’s a little more interesting right now. Seokmin’s right. More fun when there’s less plague and more technology. The food’s a little weird, and art seems to have gone to shit, but—”

She chuckles as she drops her things by the door and sits on the couch next to him. “You can just say you missed me. How long are you staying?”

“Your whole life, actually.”

“What?”

“Yeah.” Jihoon stretches his legs out for the coffee table. “Seokmin and I may have played some tricks. And I may be the coolest demon in existence this millennium.”

“What do you mean?”

“I had a holy water bath and didn’t die. Freaked the other demons out. Satan’s not punishing me for messing with the Antichrist. I’m yours for now.”

“You’re telling me that you’re going to stay with me for the rest of my life. How am I going to get married and have a family?”

“I thought me saying I was staying for the rest of your life was essentially me asking you to marry me.”

It feels as if those words smack her right in the face. The anxious person in her starts panicking at M-A-R-R-I-A-G-E. A few minutes of reeling her brain back from panic helps her see that Jihoon’s just offering what demons think is human commitment. 

“It sounds like you’re intending to be a nuisance,” she finally says.

“I also forgot to mention I’m not really a demon anymore.”

“I didn’t know that was something you could just give back.” The anxiety is fighting with excitement. Because Jihoon is saying all the right words. 

So, she gets up to make tea just to keep her hands busy. And so she doesn’t have to sit so close to Jihoon.

She’s been so used to knowing everything and being one step ahead. Now, that she really is just a human, she’s realizing that the unexpected is extremely uncomfortable.

Jihoon trails after her. “So, maybe I made some deals with the Devil to be here. But nothing that you need to be concerned about.”

She squints at him. “What exactly are you proposing?”

Jihoon rolls his eyes. “That I stay here. With you. Live your life with you.”

“I want children one day.”

Jihoon shrugs. “That can be arranged.”

“With a partner.”

He motions down his body. “I’ve arranged that already.”

“By assuming that I’d agree to this.”

Jihoon tips his head, his eyes flicking from cat-like and back again. “Do you not want this?”

She rests her hip against the counter, processing her feelings. “You’re telling me that you want to be my life partner. Are willing to have children. But have you considered that I’ll get old and age? You’re not going to leave me for naught?”

“If you gave me your soul in exchange for not getting old, that could be arranged.”

“Absolutely not. I’m human. And I intend to stay that way.”

This makes Jihoon smile. “And that’s why I’m staying. Because you’re human.”

“You hate humans.”

“I like you. And maybe Hansol. Your other friends are tolerable.”

She holds her hand up in the air between them.

“What?”

She nods her head at her hand.

Frowning, he lifts his hand to mirror her.

“Oh, you stupid—” She crosses the kitchen to press her palm against his, notices that he’s warm but not burning. “I can touch you.” Her fingers settle between the spaces between his. “Why can I touch you?”

“Are you not listening to me?” he chuckles. That would normally be annoying, but he now finds her incredibly endearing. It helps that she’s definitely not the Antichrist. “I told you I made deals with the devil.” Jihoon’s eyes don’t leave hers as he kisses the back of her hand. “So, what are you thinking, human?”

“That you still haven’t answered the question about what happens when I age.” She notices his confused expression. “Jihoon.” The use of his chosen human name causes him to warm even more; she can feel it in his hand. “As good-hearted as your intentions might be, and having grown up with a demon for a mother, I can’t grow attached to you knowing you’ll disappear when you realize I’m not what you want anymore.”

“I’ve been human before,” he whispers. Her eyes widen slightly at the admission. She doesn’t personally know any demons that were once human. Her mother says they exist, but most of the ones she’s met have been fallen angels.

Her mind is whirring at what that’s meant for the life he’s lived. And makes her want to analyze every decision he’s made in her presence.

But Jihoon doesn’t give her much time to process it. They have a lifetime together for her to learn that. “I know what the stakes are by offering you this.”

“And you still want to stay? I thought we were only in agreement that we please each other well.”

“And I enjoy your company. More than anyone else—human, demon, or angel—that I’ve met.”

“Even when I can’t please you physically anymore,” she states.

Jihoon studies her face, can picture the way it’ll age, has deliberated heavily about whether he can watch her die. “I have a feeling that you’ll find other ways to be entertaining.”

She scoffs in disbelief, charmed and also scared.

“I may also be aware of the fact that Seokmin is intending to stick around for your lifetime. Your friends’ as well. I won’t be lonely.”

“He knows you’re staying.”

“He knew I was considering it. He told me that I’m the only one who can make the decision. And that you’d have to accept me anyway for it to be real.”

“Couples fight.”

“We’ve butt heads quite a lot in the time we’ve known each other.”

“I’m pretty physically intimate.”

“Good. I like that.” 

She wonders what else she could say that would make Jihoon re-evaluate. “I’m really insecure.”

Jihoon’s eyes flicker. “I can deal with that.”

“You’ll be expected to come to Seungcheol and Jeonghan’s wedding then.”

The corners of his mouth downturn slightly, but he agrees to that too.

Before leaning into him, as he seems to desperately want her to do, she says, “As soon as you even think about double crossing me, or mess with my mind even slightly, you’re gone, okay?” She elaborates further. “I need to trust that you’re with me, because you like me. Not because I can be manipulated because I’m human and touch you well.”

Jihoon chuckles and nods. “Got it, human.” He doesn’t tell her that as soon as she tells him to leave, his contract is over, and he’s gone. Maybe one day, but not right now.

“Now, will you please kiss me and stop worrying about a future that’s still so far away?”

“In your lifetime, it’s nothing,” she reminds him.

Jihoon shrugs. “Sure, but for you, it’s long.”

She rolls her eyes. He’s the one who closes the distance between them, one hand slipping under her shirt to rest on the skin of her hip. It’s a pleasant warmth.

“I’m happy for you to stay,” she says as his lips brush hers. “Even if I didn’t summon you this time.”

Jihoon laughs, pecking her lips again and again. “It would actually be a more difficult existence for both of us if you had.”

There’re fluttering nerves in her stomach that some of his words have calmed but not all. And he’s unlikely able to soothe every fear she has about this, but she asks anyway. “Is it okay if we go slow?”

“What do you mean?”

His thumb rubbing back and forth on her hip is distracting. She rests a hand over his to stop him. “Slow. To get used to this. I brought you here with different intentions. I fell for you by accident. Everything that’s happened afterwards is not something I’ve had time to process.” Her gaze glances at him and then away. “Is that okay?”

Jihoon hums, not used to her bashfulness. “Hey.”

She meets his gaze.

“I get to be human for a little while because of you. Whatever you want.”

“Really?”

Jihoon nods. “I’m a reasonable demon, as you know.”

“You were a pain in my ass when I summoned you.”

“I can be a reasonable pain in the ass.”

She sighs. “Okay.” She pulls him closer. “I’m in.”

hello!!! another story down.

this story is very conflicting for me. i was so excited about it when i was writing it and editing it. and then while i was posting it, something about it wasn't speaking to me anymore.

don't get me wrong. i love how this story turned out. but i wrote the first draft of this, i think, almost two years ago now. i'm a different person, a different writer, and a different reader too.

so, i think my unattachment to it is because it doesn't fully represent me as a writer anymore.

but for everyone who's read this/will read this, i hope you enjoyed it! i hope you're around when i return, because i will be going on a proper hiatus probably until the summer next year. need to write more stories (some original projects & some fanfic). i'll pop back in and out when i feel like it, but for now, this is farewell!!

if you wanna follow my creative journey (not just my woozi fanfics), i'm an-artthief on Tumblr too. posting some updates on a few original works i'm working on and reblogging some art and things that i enjoy. :)

happy holidays everyone! and if i don't post again before the end of the year, happy 2024 too! xx

#woozi #lee jihoon #woozi imagines #woozi scenarios #woozi fic #lee jihoon scenarios #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen #svt

[that-gay-guy-from-hell]

Phantoms of the Past: Vergil x Male Reader

SUMMARY: Vergil has always had nightmares and night terrors for as long as he can remember; however, when he met you, those began to subside more and more. Over the years, he had begun to forget what it was like to wake up in a cold sweat and terrified; that is until a few months ago. Once more, his mind has been plagued by these agonizingly real dreams.

BEGINNING NOTES: HAH! YOU THOUGHT I WAS DONE WRITING SAD FLUFF WITH VERGIL; WELL THINK AGAIN (He really is my comfort character--I swear). There are 12,886 words in this… This beats my last one so now this is the longest chapter I’ve written--It’s like 23 pages in google docs lmao. ⚔️🛡️⚔️ ▪️I couldn’t find an exact answer to this so I will put this here: a grin refers to the lil’ smirky smile Vergil gives Dante in DMC5 while a smile is closer to like showing your teeth. I hope that helps clear things up a bit lmao ▫️I use an in-game combo term (DMC 5)--just a head’s up. ▪️When I reference triggering unless I say specifically “Sin Trigger” I am referring to Vergil’s regular trigger (the pre-DMC 5 form; however, I use the concept art for DMC5 as my visual reference… I know that’s kinda complicated. Just look at his fandom page and then the gallery; you’ll see the concept art for DMC5.) ▫️I’ve never personally had a concussion before so I did some online research; forgive me if it is a bad representation of having 🛡️⚔️🛡️ 💠Vergil x Male reader; I tried to write G/N but it got confusing, sorry. 🔹Pre-established relationship--married and living together. 💠Fluff… well more angst; I got kind of carried away. 🔹Minor accusations of physical abuse; THE KEYWORD IS ACCUSATIONS. (trigger warning) 💠Minor blood warning; from both of you. ⚔️🛡️⚔️ READER RELATED 🔹The reader uses: Beowulf and Revenant 🔹Reader is overly chill about things; I am a rather passive person so it ended up being that way with this story, sorry. 🔹It is mentioned that you are younger than Vergil--and closer to Nero’s age. 🔹Reader does throw up; only mentioned it isn’t like graphic or anything--still figured I should warn just in case. 🛡️⚔️🛡️ VERGIL RELATED 💠Vergil has PTSD-related nightmares/actions. 💠Self-harm? Vergil skins himself accidentally; so I am not sure if that is self-harm per se. Plus it’s only in one part so it’s not that big of a talking point. 🛡️⚔️🛡️ Slight spoiler, don't read if you don't want to have things spoiled: To add some explanation to Vergil’s bit where he swore and freaked out: I figure that when Vergil lost his autonomy for so long as Nelo Angelo, he ended up becoming hyper-aware of what he is doing at all times. So when he does something that he either can’t remember doing or didn’t want to do that it would send him into a panic; fearing that he is going to lose his freedom again.

==

INSPIRED BY: And when thy heart ceased to beat--By: Craig 

Please give this a read. It is what originally inspired me to write this, plus it is just a really good story and takes a pretty realistic look at what Vergil’s life could/would be like after everything that’s happened. 

==

     A cold wind swept through the arena as all movement stilled. 

     At the edges were the two remaining contenders; circling one another. One, a male human equipped with Beowulf, was out of breath and exhausted: the other, the olive-armored Nelo Angelo, had barely warmed up and diligently awaited the human's next move.

     Seeing how the man defeated the slew of lesser demons that Nelo had sent prior, he decided to take things into his own hands. The devilish swordsman was confident that he’d win this fight; even if this particular human has been more of a challenge than anticipated--as the pair has been going at it for nearly an hour now. 

     With gritted teeth, the man sprinted at Nelo, cracking the ground in their wake. He was going to try and grapple with the large knight. Right before he was able, Nelo swung his greatsword. The silver blade was suddenly halted as it hit the Beowulf gauntlets. Even though the man was unharmed, the momentum of the attack was enough to fling the human far across the field. 

     Using the claws of the gauntlets, the man shredded the arena’s floor and stopped himself. Nelo turned to face him and waited for the incompetent warrior to stand back up. Noticing that the knight stood still, the man began to grow frustrated; knowing that the devil was taunting him to try again. 

     With a pounding heart and exhaustion only worsening, the man stood up with a grunt. He rolled his shoulders, cracking them loudly, and took a deep breath. Once more he sprinted at Nelo. When the man was close enough, he decided to jump off one of the nearby walls. Springing himself above the Black Knight and performed Starfall. 

     Nelo dodged but wasn't quite fast enough and was nicked along one side; which only further irritated the Black Knight. The second the man's feet landed, Nelo kicked the underside of their knees--bringing them to a kneel.

     Not wasting any time, Nelo raised his sword to strike, only to be blocked once more by the Beowulf gauntlets. The pair locked in a bind; Nelo’s sword heavily pushing downwards onto the forearms of Beowulf, which were painfully held above the man’s head.

     No matter what way you put it, a devil's strength is insurmountable to a human’s, even if the human is wearing the armor of a former devil. Nelo knew this and drove his weapon harder into the demonic protection as it began to falter.

     Knowing it was only a matter of time before the gauntlets shattered, the man moved into a position where he could dig his feet into the ground. This allowed him to stand ever so slightly. Not having any better ideas, he used this small amount of space and attempted to jump. This, in turn, used the demonic energy of the boots to push the gauntlets up harder into the greatsword; allowing the man to stand up further. Without wasting any time, he jumped once more and noticed small cracks that began to spider on their forearm guards. However, he had enough room to break away from Nelo; making the knight slam his blade into the ground. 

     The man grumbled as they looked down at his gauntlets, seeing that they would shatter if hit by the sword again. 

     Nelo pulled his sword back up and huffed. Now it was his turn.

     Nelo sprinted at his opponent and lunged with the broadsword; catching the man off guard; as he only barely dodged the sharp edge, rolling into a stand. Before the man had a moment to think, Nelo attacked once more. A large sweeping motion from the broadsword hit the gauntlets and blue sparks flew off the sword from the impact; sending the human flying into a wall of the arena. 

     Standing back on his feet, the man looked at his forearms; Beowulf had fractured all the way through. Seeing Nelo begin to move in again, he quickly shed the broken armor and dodged. Using Beowulf’s boots, he jumped onto Nelo’s shoulders and used him as a surface to bounce off. 

     The devil turned to face the man and heard him say something unintelligible; and yet, something so familiar. Nelo ignored it with a small dismissive shake of his head and continued the fight. Once more he moved to attack. The man attempted to dodge in the same way again, not knowing what else to do. However, Nelo wasn’t created yesterday. He was quick enough to grab the man's leg in a flash. 

     Nelo used the human’s limb as a handle to swing the attached body into the ground. The floor cracked from the extreme force as the man's flesh made contact; followed by an ear-piercing scream and the sound of an unimaginable amount of breaking bones. 

     A strange feeling ghosted at the recesses of Nelo’s mind, a feeling of terror--a deep underlying urge to stop what he was doing. However, the knight had to finish what he started. The demonic swordsman grabbed the man by his neck; making him scream once more. 

     Despite their wounds, the human still attempted to fight. He grasped at Nelo’s face and horns, pulling on them; all the while, the man was saying something Nelo was still unable to understand. 

     It didn’t matter, the struggle was pointless.

     Like a hot knife through butter, Nelo plunged his broadsword through the man’s torso. Nelo felt the human’s body go limp and their hands released the tight grasp on his face. The dead man’s blood trickled down the silver blade and onto Nelo Angelo’s olive-armored fingers. Before the knight could enjoy his victory, he decided to get a better look at his opponent. 

     A loud clatter emanated from his sword as he dropped it and the fresh corpse. The Black Knight’s hands shook as he looked at the blood that was dripping from them, horrified at what he’d done.

     Vergil shot upwards with a loud terrified scream. 

     He frantically turned his head around to get his bearings. He was sitting at home, in bed, with you. Vergil’s heart was racing and his skin was clammy. With short panicked breaths, Vergil gripped his face tightly, unknowingly tearing at his skin with his claws, as he replayed everything in his mind. 

     “Vergil? Is everything alright?” a confused and very concerned voice called from the space beside him.

     The blue devil nearly jumped out of his skin upon hearing you speak. You sat upwards upon noticing his terrified state.

     “Hey,” you whispered and gently touched his bicep, making him flinch.

     Vergil turned his head to you and just stared. You noticed that his arms were partially triggered, his eyes were glowing dully, and there were small pin-prick-sized bleeding marks caused by his claws on his face. His stare was blank with his brow ever-so-slightly creased. He looked afraid… almost as if he were lost.  

     “Another nightmare?” you softly kneaded against his arm, hoping to bring him back from whatever terrified thoughts he was in, “It’s okay, Vergil. You’re safe. Nothing is going to hurt you.” 

     His stare moved down to your chest and he slowly reached outwards. Confused, you let go of his arm--allowing him to fully pivot to see you. Barely-there scaled charcoal-black fingers ghost down your midline. You noticed a slight tremble in his lips and his stare had softened a bit.

     Slowly you grabbed his arm, making sure he could see what you were doing (and to be cautious of his forearm’s blades), “I’m right here, Vergil. You’re safe and at home. Everything’s okay.”

     He opened his mouth but no words came out, just a weak crack of his voice. The both of you just sat for a few minutes; his palm resting firmly over your stomach while you rubbed his forearm. You continued to try and ground him back in reality with your words, hoping to keep things from escalating. 

     When Vergil’s trigger began to subside, he cleared his throat and spoke in a barely audible voice, “I didn’t…” his voice trailed off once more.

     “It’s okay Vergil,” you noticed his expression had shifted and he seemed to be more present, “You’re safe. I’m safe. We’re alright.”

     Vergil nodded slowly, his free hand moved to yours that you had on his forearm. You let go of him and watched as he removed his palm from your skin. He placed your hand in between both of his. With trembling fingers, Vergil ran his digits over your hand and arm while staring down at the interaction. 

     Another few minutes passed, Vergil’s trigger had fully subsided and a few stray tears fell from his eyes. It pained you to see him like this; to see him so scared and not know how to help him. A small pang of hurt tugged at your heart; you had a feeling that whatever the nightmare was, it involved you as (you presumed) most have. However, tonight was different; Vergil didn’t attack you.

     Over the past few months, Vergil’s nightmares and terrors had been getting steadily worse. Just two weeks ago he woke you up by almost dislocating your shoulder. A week ago? Vergil triggered in his sleep and gouged the crap out of your back--enough that you had to get new bedding because of bloodstains.

     Tonight, you finally managed to get him to sleep for the first time in a week and he had another agonizing nightmare. It was also the first time he had tried to speak to you afterwards; rather than sit in silence. 

     A stuttering breath caught your attention. You looked into Vergil’s eyes as he spoke, his voice still laced with a terror you’d never heard from him before, “I couldn’t… You...” the blue devil’s jaw quivered, not being able to bring himself to finish his thought.

     “You’re okay. I’m okay. Everything’s okay,” you moved to get closer to him, “I promise.”

     He pulled you into his lap and buried his face into your neck and continued to mumble, “I’m sorry,” over and over as he shook against you.

     You gently wrapped your arms around him and rubbed his back, “It’s not your fault, you don’t have to be sorry.”

     The two of you remained this way until you both fell asleep. Vergil, thankfully, did not have another nightmare; however, his sleep was far from restful.

==

     A ringing phone woke you from your sleep and you moved to grab it, only to be stopped by a strong set of arms. Vergil had wrapped himself entirely around you--legs and all.

     “Vergil,” you whispered, “I need to get up.”

     He grumbled in response and loosened his grip just enough for you to slip out of bed. You grabbed your phone and went to the bathroom. While in there, you saw that Dante had tried to call you and text you:

     “You coming in today?”

     “Hello?”

     “I am going to keep spamming you till you respond,” and that he did. 

     It looked like Dante had been doing this for the past 30 minutes. 

     After you finished up in the bathroom, you called Dante.

     It rang once before the red devil picked up, “Mornin’ beautiful.”

     You rolled your eyes as you made your way back to the bedroom, “Do not call me that; Vergil will kill you.”

     “Be one hell of a way to die--make sure to put it on my grave, yeah?”

     The both of you laughed, “So, what’s up? The shop finally burn down or something?”

     “Honestly… I don’t think the fires of Hell could burn this place down…” you could hear Dante’s chair creak as he leaned forwards, “You both forgot about that job this morning, huh?”

     Your face went pale, “What--”

     The younger twin laughed, “Verge and you had a contract for today. It’s nearly noon and you both are still at home?”

     “Son of a bitch!” you yelled, forgetting that Vergil was still sleeping, “We’ll be right there.”

     “See you soon,” you could practically hear Dante reveling in the fact Vergil messed up.

     “Mhm, yep,” with that, you hung up the phone.

     “Dante?” Vergil grumbled from the bed, making you jump slightly.

     The bed creaked as you sat on it, swinging one leg on it, “Yeah… We are late to work…”

     Vergil moved to set his head on your lap and sighed, “I will undoubtedly never hear the end of this mistake.”

     “Mhm,” you gently ran your fingers through his naturally down hair, “knowing Dante.”

     “Brillant,” Vergil looked up at you and had a strange pained look.

     “Something on your mind?” 

     His lips parted slightly as he took a hand and reached up to your face, not saying anything.

     You kissed his palm, “I’m right here, Vergil.”

     He closed his eyes and nodded with a sputtering exhale. This had also become a regular occurrence in the last few months; even before the terrors began. You had noticed that Vergil would often stare at you with this sad and distant look on his face. One night, he finally acknowledged that he did so and admitted why; that he was afraid you aren't real.

     After a few moments, Vergil removed his hand and sat upright. An air of remorse emanated from the twin as he whispered, “I did not harm you last night, did I?”

     You shook your head, “No,” you set a hand on his bicep, “You did talk to me a bit, though.”

     His brow furrowed as he tried to remember and looked over his shoulder at you.

     “You kept… apologizing, telling me that you didn’t know..? I won’t pry, but…” you locked eyes with the blue devil, “I am here if you ever want or need to talk about it, okay?”

     He turned to you, “Thank you for your offer… But I assure you that I am fine.”

     “Vergil,” you placed a hand on his and spoke softly, “You don’t have to be fine all the time; it’s okay to be upset, to have problems.”

     A weak grin was all he gave you in return, squeezing your hand tightly. 

     The eldest twin knew exactly what had set off this spiral of increasingly terrified thoughts; however, he was ashamed to admit it, even to you. 

==

     It had been a job just like any other; clear out demons here and destroy a nest there--a piece of cake really. However, the weather was far from amiable; being overcast and heavily raining.

     “Fuck me!” you growled as you violently yanked the Beowulf boot from the mud. 

    The demonic hardware is rather heavy, at least for your human legs, so it is not ideal for muddy rainy weather--often getting stuck. Vergil noticed your grumbling and scrunched-up expression from the corner of his eye as he stifled a laugh. 

     “Don’t even--” you insincerely growled at him, “I swear I will throw them at you.”

     Vergil smirked slightly and huffed a laugh through his nose, “Perhaps you’d prefer me to leave you here?”

     Playfully you shoved his shoulder, “You wouldn’t dare.”

     His eyes narrowed, "I wouldn't?"

     You raised a brow, "You'll sleep on the couch for a week if you do, mister,” your voice was heavily layered with sarcasm and playfulness.

     Without responding, Vergil grabbed you by your waist and hoisted you over one of his shoulders like a sack of potatoes.

     “Hey--!” you squirmed in his grasp.

     “Stop struggling,” his grip tightened as his fingers dug into your skin, “Or I will drop you.”

     With a shake of your head and a smile, you laughed, “What a romantic husband I have.”

     “Tch,” Vergil was scowling, but you knew it was disingenuous.

     The two of you walked like this for some time, enjoying the comfortable silence (which if you listened very closely, you could hear Vergil purring). A part of you had almost forgotten that the both of you were on a job; that is until Vergil yanked you from his shoulder and plopped you on your feet. 

     He placed a stiff hand on your shoulder, “Stay,” with that, Vergil dashed off behind you. 

     Confused, you turned around and watched Vergil zip around a group of miscellaneous demons. You lovingly wolf-whistled at the silver-haired hunter. 

     Similar to a peacock showing its feathers, Vergil did these solo fights to show off--to flirt with you. You knew that this was the case because he would always finish the fight with a fancy move; be it an over-the-top judgment cut or using his doppelgänger in a combo. Today he opted for the second type.

     You smirked widely as you watched Vergil return the Yamato to its scabbard and dismiss Doppel.

     Lovingly, you cooed at the devilish swordsman, “I love watching you work, you know that?”

     His face was emotionless, holding intense eye contact with you. His lips were slightly parted as he seemingly tried to come up with a response. 

     Under your breath, you laughed quietly and approached him, “my Dark Slayer,” you winked and gave him a large grin. 

     He closed his lips and looked down with a tiny smirk, a trace amount of bashfulness ghosted his features. As you got within reach of him, a loud noise made both of you snap to attention. The two of you moved closer together, back to back; as per typical routine. The source of the noise sprung from the nearby buildings. It was a group of four Scudo Angelos and two Proto Angelos. 

     Vergil’s lip twitched as he huffed in irritation. He would always take care of these two types in particular, alone. Right now, however, it is impossible to get you away to a safe distance without a high risk of hurting you. 

     “So, you got a plan?” you calmly asked over your shoulder to Vergil.

     With a small click of his tongue, Vergil spoke, “You take care of the Scudos; I will take the Protos.”

     “Sounds good,” you nodded and the two of you broke apart. 

     Using Beowulf, you made quick work of the smaller demons’ shields. The talon heels of the boots are always a great tool for crushing the demons’ thick skulls. It didn’t take long for you to have them all but bloodied remains beneath your heels. You turned to address Vergil, figuring that he had finished his fight alongside you; however, he was still in combat. 

     You raised a brow as you watched him take on both of the knights. Confusion pricked at the edges of your mind, it was unusual for Vergil to take longer than you. The closer you watched the more off he seemed; his movements were overly stiff and his technique was sloppy. Deciding to help him, you moved in on one of the Proto Angelos. It didn’t take long for the demon to notice you. It charged at you and, just as it swung its broadsword, you parried the attack using your gauntlets. Taking advantage of the small gap of time that it took for the demon to pull its blade upwards, you hit it square in the chest. 

     The Proto Angelo stumbled back a bit but was relatively unphased by the uncharged punch. Now circling each other, you waited for the demon to attack. Once it did, you jumped upwards and were able to perform Starfall upon the knight. Grinding your taloned heels into the flattened olive-armored demon, you did a fancy flip off of it; deciding to have some fun. Which was a major mistake. 

     You hadn’t noticed that the second Proto Angelo also had its attention on you as it had knocked Vergil into a far-off wall. Hearing movement, you spun around to defend yourself but it was too late. 

     A searing pain shot through you as the demon’s broadsword slashed horizontally along your torso. With a loud shout, your knees buckled a bit as you stumbled backwards. You placed your arm along the slash, feeling it with your fingers--as to not break eye contact with the demon. The wound was bleeding profusely and was much deeper than you anticipated. 

     “Shit,” you grimaced and noticed the first Proto Angelo stand up. Thinking quickly, you sprinted at the second one and jumped off its shoulders. With another loud shout in pain, you landed using a shoulder roll. Your head was spinning as you slowly moved to kneel with your back to the demons. 

     A bright blue flash caught your eye and you felt a gush of wind pass you by. Once you managed to stand, the pair of Proto Angelos had been desolated into nothing but specs of dust in the wind. Where the demons once stood was Vergil in his sin trigger. Instantly, he was in front of you, making you jump a little. 

     With a huff and a weak smile, you jested, “Kinda sad I missed that,” you winced a bit as you felt your gut twitch in pain.

     A large grey-scaled hand gently touched your wound. Despite the heavy distortion of his sinful voice, you could tell he was worried, “You are hurt?”

     You did your best to play it off as you set a hand atop his, “I’ll be fine; it’s just a scratch.”

     He huffed loudly and pulled his hand from your body, looking at his palm that was covered in your blood, “I am sending you home--”

     “What-!” you shook your head, “Vergil, you can’t be-”

     The blue devil snarled lightly, “This is not up for discussion,” he sighed with a shake of his head returning to his human form, “It is not worth the risk to keep you here.”

     With parted lips, you did your best to formulate a sentence despite your anger, “I’m not just going to leave you,” you shifted your jaw to the side, “We’re partners, remember?”

     “As if I could forget,” Vergil’s eyes met yours as he mumbled, “That is why I am doing this.”

==

     “Vergil?” your voice pulled him from his thoughts, “You okay? You’ve been zoned out for a few minutes.”

     “Forgive me,” he removed his hand from yours, “I was lost in thought.”

     You looked at him curiously.

     Vergil shifted to the other edge of the bed, “We should get ready,” with that Vergil left the room.

     You pursed your lips and sighed through your nose as you stood up; admittedly, you had hoped he might indulge you on what he was thinking about. 

     After a few minutes, Vergil returned to the room. You already had the majority of your gear on and were in the middle of tying your boots when the ringing of your cell phone caught your attention.

     Before you could answer it, Vergil snatched it off the bedside table, “What do you want, Dante? "

     Although you couldn’t hear the younger twin, you could tell that he was poking fun at Vergil for being late. 

     “Have you called only to pester? Or is there a reason for this conversation?” Vergil’s lip twitched as he huffed through his nose.

     A small smirk tugged at your lips at Vergil’s feigned irritation at his baby brother.

     “I see,” Vergil slowly looked over to you and eyed you up and down, “My partner and I will discuss it and let you know,” he turned his gaze from you, “Goodbye,” he hung up the phone and placed it gently down on the bedside table as it was before. 

     Vergil moved to the closet and grabbed a dress shirt, his jaw moving slowly around as he mindlessly buttoned the black fabric. Your boots hit the floor with a soft thud. Humming a soft tune as you moved to the dresser to grab Revenant off of it, sliding it into the horizontal holster on the small of your back. From the corner of your eye, you noticed Vergil standing behind you. 

     “Oops, shit-- sorry,” you shuffled out of the way.

     “Do not apologize, I am in no rush,” he opened one of the drawers and grabbed a pair of pants and his belt.

     A bright smile adorned your face as you resumed your humming. You grabbed your coat and his off the nearby wall hooks and walked over to him.

     Vergil had moved back to the closet and slid on one of his vests.

     “Allow me?”

     The blue devil turned to you, “I can button my own clothing.”

     “I thought you weren’t in a rush?” you teased gently.

     You handed Vergil his coat to hold and slowly began to button the slate-blue apparel. Out of the top of your vision, you could see that Vergil was staring down at you with a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. 

     “So what did Dante want?” you reached over to the closet behind him and grabbed one of his ties.

     “He wanted to know if you wished to trade places with him for today.”

     “What’s that supposed to mean?” you made sure the tie was semi-loose--as he prefers--and tucked it beneath his vest.

     “That he would accompany me on the job and you would work with the women--taking Dante’s place."

     “Well,” you rested your hands on his shoulders and sighed quietly, “I guess that makes the most sense since we are so late today…”

     “Are you sure you are alright with it?” his eyes flicked to your hands then back to you, “I know you prefer to work with me,” he tossed his coat over on the bed and placed his hands on your waist.

     You laughed as you felt him pull you closer, “It’ll be fine, dear,” you leaned your head on his chest, “just promise me you’ll stay safe and keep in touch?”

     “Of course,” his voice was barely over a whisper as he kissed the top of your head, “Same goes for you.”

     “I will,” a grin spread across your face as you leaned back to look at him. Lovingly, Vergil pressed further into you and moved one of his hands to the side of your face, rubbing his thumb on your cheek. The two of you kissed gently. His other hand kneaded into your hips as you moved your hands down the front of his chest, grabbing his vest. 

     Gradually, you two split from the kiss. The blue devil stayed touching your forehead. You shivered slightly feeling his hot breath against your lips, wanting to taste more of him.

     “Perhaps we should save this for later?”

     “Just a little more… please?” you pouted slightly.

     The blue devil chuckled softly, “With a face like that,” he brushed his lips against yours, “how could I say no?”

     The two of you intertwined yourselves once more. He moved both his hands to your sides, slowly and strongly kneading down them. With kisses as sweet as molasses, he made sure to show you how much he relishes in your affections. One of your hands moved to his hair and slowly ran your fingers through slicked back pomaded locks. A small distant purring could be heard as he pulled you even tighter to his body. Vergil’s lips left yours and ran down your jawline and neck.

     “I love you,” you murmured, “so very much…”

     He removed his lips from your skin and looked you in the eyes; his way of expressing the same affection. Despite his silence, you knew he felt the same. 

     A ghost of a smile hinted at Vergil's face as he reluctantly let go of your body, returning to his regular volume, “We should get going; otherwise I may change my mind about saving things for later.”

     Your face turned a slight red at the flat-out way Vergil said that he wanted you. The blue devil had walked over to the bed and slid on his coat. He then grabbed Yamato from its resting place next to the bed and your phone.

     With your phone outstretched in his hand, he raised a brow at your expression, “Ready?”

     You shook the ever-encroaching ideas from your head as you meekly grabbed your phone, “Yeah.”

     “Good,” his hand was still outstretched, “Shall we?”

     A large smile decorated your face as you grabbed his hand, “Lead the way, dear.”

==

     The instant you left Nico’s van after work, you went inside to bathe. It had been another rainy day and you were not only coated in demon blood but also mud--lots of mud. You pulled off Beowulf before entering your shared home and set them on the rubber mat near the door; leaving them to clean later. 

     Slowly, you undressed as you made your way to the bathroom when you heard something odd.

     “--to do,” it was Vergil. You peered through the door of the bedroom. He was sitting on the edge of the bed facing away from you and was talking to himself, “Perhaps it would be best--” he stopped and turned his head slightly to the right. 

     You bit your lip and knocked gently, “Hey, sorry to intrude… Didn’t know you were home.”

     Vergil pushed up on his knees, standing to turn and face you, “Do not apologize, I wasn’t doing anything important…” he looked worn out.

     The door creaked as you fully opened it and stepped into the room, halfway undressed, “You look tired, babe.”

     The blue devil shook his head, “Dealing with my brother is exhausting.”

     “Well, then after I shower,” you set Revenant down on the dresser, “maybe we should take a nap together?” 

     “I-” Vergil’s expression hardened, “I don’t know if that is a good idea.”

     Your lips parted slightly as you looked with a soft crease of your brow, “I know it’s been rough but… you need some sleep, Vergil…”

     He looked as if he were going to say something, but moved his gaze to the floor and nodded in agreement. 

     “You don’t have to wait for me,” you moved back towards the door, “I’ll join you when I get back, okay?”

     The eldest twin nodded as he watched you leave the room.

     He had already removed most of his clothing, only having his pants and his, untucked, dress shirt on. Slowly, Vergil stood and went to get a more casual shirt; removing the rest of his work clothes. 

     Now dressed in a loose-fitting black tank top and navy boxer briefs, he moved back to the bed. Apprehensive didn’t even describe how he felt right now; no, the eldest son of Sparda was petrified over the thought of sleep. However, you were right, he was beyond beat and wanted nothing more than to rest. With a heavy sigh, he climbed into the bed and closed his eyes, praying for just a moment of pleasant sleep.

     You came back into the room about an hour later. With a warm smirk, you tip-toed around the room to avoid waking the sleeping devil. Once you re-dressed yourself, you turned back to look at Vergil when you noticed something was wrong. 

     His face was contorted into a rather violent grimace and, as per the night before, was partially triggered. Vergil was also breathing heavily and growling in his sleep. In his arms, he had taken one of the pillows--and some of the duvet--into a death grip, ripping them.

     Biting your lip in thought you sighed, “Shit…” although you knew that this could only end badly, you decided to wake him up from his nightmare.

     Cautiously, you moved to the edge of the bed and placed a hand on his shoulder, “Vergil..?”

     Nothing.

     Your gut twisted with fear as you shook him harder, “Vergil?”

     Still nothing.

     With a heavy sigh, you shook him harder, “Wake up…”

     Instantly, you were pinned to the floor by a set of charcoal-black scaled hands around your throat. You had never been scared of Vergil before but tonight? You were terrified. His face was somewhere between emotionless and furious. A loud rumbling growl emanated from the back of his throat as he continued to squeeze ever-tighter.

     “Verg-” your voice sputtered as you grabbed his arms, gasping for air. 

     Blood had begun to trickle down your palms as you accidentally sliced them on his forearm blades in your panic. Becoming steadily aware of your need for air, you grabbed at his face and neck; anything to get him off of you. 

     Tears sprung from your eyes as you felt his claws pierce the sides of your neck as his grip tightened even further. You knew that if he pressed down his thumbs, Vergil would stab right into your windpipe and kill you. 

     Lightheadedness began to sink in as you croaked out another beseeching plea to your lover, “Vergil--!”

     With nothing left to do, you clawed harder against him and roughly cut into his cheek with your nails. This seemingly pulled him from his delusion as his grip loosened.

     A new look replaced the hardened glare from before, a look of complete and utter horror. 

     Vergil’s voice trembled as he realized what was going on, “What--?”

     You took a loud deep breath and pulled his arms away from you and spoke as best you could with the growing pain in your throat, “Move,” you pushed against his body and did your best to speak normally, “please.”

     Without hesitation, Vergil removed himself completely and stood staring down at you. He looked at his, still-triggered, hands and saw your blood dripping from his claws. The blue devil’s blood ran cold. 

     “Vergil-” you groaned as you sat upwards, watching him bolt out of the room, “Wait-” with a strained grunt, you gradually stood upright and did your best to stabilize your wobbly legs.

     The blue devil slammed the bathroom door close, quickly locking it behind him. His hands had de-triggered and shook violently as he tried to wash the blood from his skin. He had turned the faucet as hot as possible and had begun to inadvertently scorch his skin. While he was brutalizing his own hands, he felt something drip down his jawline and to the tip of his chin. Vergil looked at himself in the fogged-up glass in front of him.

     Upon each side of his face and neck were dark smears of your blood from you pushing him away. Three large scratches decorated one of his cheeks and were slowly bleeding; now dripping off of his chin and to the sink below. Vergil took one of his hands and slowly ghosted over the markings on his face. A deep all-encompassing pit formed in his gut as he replayed the nightmare from just the night prior. The feeling of you desperately tearing at Nelo’s face, trying to escape him.  

     A tremble found its way to Vergil’s lips and body. Pressing as hard as he could, the eldest twin began to desperately scrub his blood-stained face with the sink's boiling water; grimacing from the feeling of peeling the top layers off of his flesh. You were the only person in the world he wouldn’t dare fight, wouldn’t dare harm; yet, only mere moments ago, he had his hands around your neck. A wicked thought echoed in his mind, how it would have only taken just a few more seconds or just a little more pressure for him to have killed the only person he has ever loved. Vergil bared his teeth as he let out a muffled whimper, tears forming at the edges of his eyes.

     The knob of the door jiggled, “Vergil?” the Dark Slayer flinched at the sound of your voice, even though it was soft and calm, “Vergil, are you okay?”

     He couldn’t come up with what to say in response, only whimpering again with a sad twitch of his lip. 

     Using an even softer tone, you set your head on the door, “Vergil… Let me in, please?”

     Despite his effort to come up with something, all he could muster was a loud voice crack as gripped the countertop.

     “Vergil,” you sighed quietly, “I want to see you. Please open the door,” an overwhelming amount of fear had consumed your mind; not for yourself, but over how Vergil might punish himself over this, “Please, Vergil…”

     “I-” he took a harsh breath trying to calm himself--and failing miserably, “What if I--” a crack began to form in the laminate countertop as his raw skinned fingers gripped harder and harder in growing frustration.

     “You won't; I promise.”

     After what seemed like an eternity, Vergil shut off the faucet and unlocked the door. You opened the door slowly and felt your heart sink at seeing your blue devil. 

     At the furthest point from the door, he was sitting on the floor, trembling heavily. Scalding red marks adorned his pale skin where he had been scrubbing and his fingers were no better. 

     “Vergil…” you approached him and saw his body stiffen, “Can I sit next to you?” 

     All he gave you was a small nod. Slowly, you moved next to him and sat beside him.

     Neither of you spoke for nearly a half hour. At one point, you managed to get a hold of one of his hands and intertwined your fingers; thumbing over the fading red marks. Internally, you were fighting the urge to hold him as close and as tight to you as possible.

     Vergil’s voice was nearly silent when he finally spoke, “I’m sorry.”

     “It’s okay--”

     “No,” he pulled his hand from yours and turned to stare at you, “No, it’s not okay,” with each word he got louder and held more frustration, “I could have--” he clenched his jaw as he scrunched his face, holding back his overwhelming storm of emotions, “I could have killed you!”

     “Vergil…” you decided to follow his idea and pivoted to face him fully, “I face death every day with work so it--”

     The blue devil snarled loudly, “I am not some mindless fucking demon,” he gripped his face with his hands, “I should be able to control myself!” tears began to slide down his face as he grimaced intensely, bearing his teeth in frustration.

     You were taken aback, you have never heard Vergil swear before, let alone sound so distraught, “I--” your lips pursed as you carefully chose your words, “I didn’t mean it like that, Vergil,” you gently set a hand on his knee, “I just meant that I’m used to that kind of thing, as morbid as that sounds.”

     A tremble reappeared through his lips, “You shouldn’t have to deal with that from me; it goes against everything I…” his mouth opened as if he were going to continue but no words came out.

     You were trying your hardest to stay calm despite wanting to join his crying upon seeing him this way. Tenderly, you thumbed over his leg, “When we got married,” you made sure to keep your voice slow and soft, “I signed up for whatever hardships may happen, to or from either of us--that we would figure things out together,” you noticed that Vergil’s stare had finally reconnected to yours, “no matter what the what happens."

     Vergil pursed his lips before taking a slow deep breath through his nose. His brow furrowed as he closed his eyes, slowly stopping his weeping, and removed his hands from his face. 

     A part of Vergil wanted to argue with you; to tell you that you're insane, delusional, that you shouldn't bear the punishment of his inner demons. The feeling of you grabbing his hands and holding them pulled him from his bitter thoughts. 

     Bringing one of his hands up to your lips, you kissed his knuckles, whispering against them, “I love you,” you brought the other hand up and repeated your action, “more than anything in the world, Vergil.”

     His grip tightened on your hands, “You are a fool," Vergil did his best to sound normal but only managed to give a small whispering whimper of a response. 

     “If loving you is foolish then I will happily play the court jester, my love,” a small smile tugged at your lips, hoping to make him feel a little better.

     After a brief moment of silence, Vergil released your hands and scooched closer to you, “May I see…” he meekly gestured at your neck.

     You nodded slightly and exposed your neck to the blue devil. The skin of your neck had already begun to darken and had small red petechiae marks. It was easy to tell that Vergil had used his hands on you because of the long slender lines of bruising; which ended in much darker spots where he had been pressing the hardest (except his thumbs). At the end of each dark spot were small needle-like marks that had dried blood on and around them. 

     Although you tried your best, you flinched at the feeling of his fingers ghosting your neckline. Vergil’s expression became increasingly distressed the longer he looked at you. Seeing this, you grabbed his other hand and held it tightly; hoping to provide some solace to him. 

     “It’s alright, Vergil, it’ll heal,” you whispered as he pulled his hand back from your neck.

     A small tremble found its way to his lips as he whispered back, “I am sorry.”

     “You do not have to apologize,” you grabbed his other hand and held it, “It is not your fault.”

     He paused for a moment before speaking, “We,” his voice cracked as he avoided your eyes, “We should get you cleaned up.”

     With a comforting grin and soft voice you thumbed over his fingers, “You sure you are okay to do that?”

     Vergil nodded, “I’ll be okay,” he pulled one of your hands to his lips and kissed it very gently.

==

     It wasn’t long before morning rolled around. Reluctantly, you had agreed to let Vergil stay in the living room for the night and you sleep in the bedroom, alone. 

     You woke up freezing as you had grown accustomed to the broiling body heat of your lover. With a loud groaning yawn, you swung your legs over the edge of the bed. As you walked to the bathroom, you felt a sudden sharp headache form. 

     Upon reaching the desired location, you noticed that the laminate countertop was cracked badly by Vergil gripping it.

     “Shit,” you grumbled.

     Your thoughts were cut off as you began feeling very off balance, leaning on the broken surface for support, before suddenly lurching forward into a kneel and throwing up in the toilet. During all your years of hunting, you knew what concussions felt like and this was definitely one of the worst ones you've ever had.

     “Fu-uck,” you sighed with a scowl slowly emerging on your features.

     Finishing up what you had originally gone in there to do--and making sure to brush and rinse the fuck out of your mouth--you left the room with a few painkillers in hand.

     The house was uncharacteristically silent as you wobbly meandered your way to the kitchen. Once at the sink, you poured yourself a glass of water and took the pills. With your hands resting on the edge of the sink, you slowly drank the rest of the water; doing your best to stay upright. The lukewarm water only helped to highlight the growing pain in your throat. 

     “Are you alright?” a voice called from your right.

     “Gah--!” you jumped slightly and dropped the cup in the sink--which was thankfully plastic. Then turned to see that it was Vergil, “You scared me, Vergil--" you took a deep breath trying to calm your heart, "I am fine, just a little sore is all.”

     His face softened as he cautiously pulled you into a close hug, “I’m sorry--is there anything I can do to help?”

     “This is exactly what I needed,” you leaned further into him and heard him purring quietly, “How are you doing, dear?”

     Vergil had a small smile as he whispered, “Much better now that I am with you.”

     The two of you held each other--swaying slightly--for what seemed like only mere seconds; when, in reality, it had been nearly a half hour. 

     Vergil nuzzled his cheek into the top of your head and spoke very quietly, “I hate to ruin the moment; however,” he pulled back from the hug enough to see you, “Dante requested us to come in early today.”

     You raised a brow, “Why?”

     “Morrison brought in a big contract; Dante requested that all of us be there for the briefing…” Vergil placed a hand on your face, not wanting to let you go.

     “Mmn, suppose I need to get ready,” you leaned into his palm and closed your eyes, and sighed, leaning out of the hug, “Best not to be late again."

==

      Both of you stood at the front door, debating on how you were getting to the DMC. Since you had a concussion, traveling with the Yamato was out of the question--last time you had traveled under the same circumstances, you almost threw up inside the portal and then proceeded to pass out once on the other side.

     “You sure you’re alright with this? I can just call an Uber or something,” you folded your arms and raised a brow.

      Vergil nodded, “I am fine with it; however if you aren’t then--”

     “No- no, it's fine just,” you tried not to laugh, “never thought 'flying via devil' would be something I’d do.”

     He grinned, “Perhaps we should travel this way more then.”

     “And here I thought you only used your trigger for emergencies,” you playfully teased.

     “This is an acceptable outlier,” Vergil laughed quietly. 

     With a bright flash of cornflower blue light, Vergil stood before you in his devil trigger.

     A warm smile adorned your face as you approached the black and blue devil, "I never knew the devil was so handsome,” your voice was laced with sarcasm as you placed a hand on his cheek.

     “Chivalry will get you nowhere, human, ” Vergil gently jested back, holding back a small laugh, “I will devour you whole.”

     “Oh no, whatever shall I do?” you dramatized your words; placing the back of your hand on your forehead and leaning back slightly, “Someone save me,” you did your best to stifle your laughter.

     He wrapped his wings around you and looked downwards at your expression, “No one will take you from me, pet. ”

     “I-” your lips were slightly agape as you tried to formulate a response--Vergil had never called you that before.

     However, he spoke before you could come up with anything, “What? Devil got your tongue?” he leaned in close, breath washing over your lips.

     “Mmn, no,” you moved your lips even closer to his, “I wish he did though.”

     Vergil cautiously connected with your lips. You moved your hands to the dark reddish-brown underside of the leathery appendages and slowly ran your fingers along the grooves. This elicited a moan from your blue devil and made him push himself against you harder. His fingers were trembling as he ghosted them along your sides, catching your attention.

     Breaking off the kiss but not moving away, you whispered against his lips, “You can touch me, Vergil. You won’t hurt me,” you used your hands to push his palms to your sides.

     His pupils dilated slightly, “Are you--”

     You cut him off with an aggressive kiss, placing your hand on his chest and kneading into him. Not wasting any more time, Vergil came back at you with an even more intense fervor. He pushed his tongue within the confines of your mouth. A muffled moan came from your lips as Vergil used his oral mastery inside your cavern; touching everything he could and playing with your tongue.

     After a minute or two, you both broke apart from the kiss. You smiled widely at him and placed a long sweet smooch on the tip of his nose; making him scrunch a bit in confusion. The two of you stood holding one another for a few minutes before you broke the serene silence. 

     “We should probably get going,” you sighed, “otherwise we won’t be making it to work…”

     The eldest son of Sparda sighed as well, “I suppose you are right…” he picked you up bridal style as you wrapped your arm around his shoulders, “Shall we?”

     You nodded as he opened the door. A sudden cold wind shot right through you as you leaned in closer to the hot-blooded devil. It was raining quite heavily so Vergil shifted you to face him completely; sheltering you the best he could from the elements, holding you underneath your thighs. With a small grunt from the devil, you two were off into the air.

==

     The flight wasn’t very long, you were at the DMC within a half hour; however, the rain had steadily gotten worse and made it a less-than-optimal flight. Vergil decided to land on the roof rather than risk being seen on the street and quickly ushered you indoors; fearing you would fall ill. 

     You took off your sopping wet coat and shook your head a bit, trying to dry off. Vergil had de-triggered and, because of how hot his devil trigger is, he was bone dry as he raised a brow at your “dog-like” actions.

     “What?” you looked up at him, giving him a curious smile.

     “Nothing,” he gave you a smirk in return.

     The two of you came downstairs, Vergil went first as you followed. Upon entering the foyer, you noticed that Vergil wasn’t kidding when Dante said “everyone”. Said red devil, Nero, Trish, Lady, and even Nico were inside the Devil May Cry; all chatting amongst themselves. 

     The younger twin noticed you both on the stairs and flashed a wide grin, “Glad you both could make it! Thought maybe you were going to sleep in-- Ah,” a small dagger from Vergil jabbed Dante in the arm.

     You pursed your lips and stifled your laughter, quietly speaking to Vergil, “Give me your coat? I’ll go hang it.”

     He stared at you from the corner of his eye for a moment before doing as you asked; delicately handing you the dark navy clothing. Vergil moved towards the bar counter to converse with Nero as everyone else resumed their conversations. With a small spring to your step, you waltzed over to the hooks near the front door and hung both your jackets. Pivoting on your heels, you went to move back into the room when you were stopped by Dante. 

     The red devil stood in front of you and used his forefinger and thumb to turn your head upwards; revealing the bruising on your neck. An aggressive furrow appeared on his brow as he frowned intensely.

     “Dante,” you whispered so that only he could hear you, “It’s not what you think--” his turquoise eyes locked with yours before he let go of your chin. It was too late.

     He turned around, “Alright,” Dante’s voice was between serious and pissed-off, a tone that was highly unlike the high-spirited brother, “What the fuck.”

     Vergil tilted his head ever-so-slightly and parted his lips in confusion, squinting at his twin.

     Dante made his way across the room, you followed him and tried to get him to stop, but were unable as he spoke even louder than before, “What is wrong with you?!”

     The blue devil’s face only became more confused as his eyes flicked between his brother and you.

     The red devil shoved Vergil, “Answer me, Vergil!”

     Fearing that the two would escalate into a larger fight, you grabbed one of Dante’s arms and tugged him away, straining your sore voice, “Dante you don’t understand-”

     Dante turned to you, “I think I know strangle marks when I see them,” his eyes went back to Vergil, “I'm tired of not saying anything.”

     With a slight sharpness, Vergil closed his eyes and scrunched his face, “What are you talking about?”

     “Don't play stupid,” Dante raised his voice even louder with a slight growl, “You think that I didn’t notice? Everyone here has noticed--fuck,” he flung his arm out, gesturing at nothing in particular, “even Morrison asked me about it!”

     “What does--”

     Dante's voice was unbearably loud as he yelled at his older brother, "You're fucking beating your husband, Vergil!” 

     The shop went silent. At this point, Nero had moved toward the couch the three ladies were sitting on, awaiting Vergil’s response.

     Your eyes widened at Dante and the absurd notion he had brought forth. Knowing Dante as you do, you had figured he was going to jab at Vergil for "being too rough in bed" or something stupid--not domestic abuse. With a slightly furrowed brow, you turned to the group next to you, then back to the brothers, and noticed Vergil’s pale stare. 

     Vergil huffed quietly through his nose as he looked downwards, pursing his lips in thought. After a moment, he looked back up at Dante with a cold glare, "Do you really think that lowly of me, Dante?"

     Dante cocked his head to the side, his voice still laced with a growl, "You know, after what you've done? Sorry, but I wouldn't put it past you."

     Vergil’s face was barren of any emotion--to everyone else besides you, that is. You’ve been in a relationship long enough with the stone-faced slayer that it was painfully obvious how much Dante’s accusation hurt him. Unable to think of what to say, he just stood there and glared at his twin. 

     "I ain't letting this go, Vergil. I'll stand here all fuckin--" a loud crack of thunder cut Dante off as the power went out in the shop.

     You weren't sure what happened, but the next thing you knew, you were on the floor and a sin-triggered Vergil was encompassing your surroundings. It was overwhelmingly hot as you felt his wings and arms tighten around you, pushing you further into his chest. The blue-grey devil shook wildly as a continuous thunderous growl emanated from deep within his chest. At any other point, it would have been a nice feeling; however, the loud sounds, sweltering heat, and the bright blue light from his chest made your headache turn from bad to agonizing. 

     Through the loud rumbling, you could vaguely make out Dante speaking; something about Vergil overreacting. Then you felt Vergil shift slightly and heard a loud yelp from the younger twin. There was a loud shuffling of hasty movement from the couch beside the two of you which made Vergil snarl even louder. 

     Lady could be heard telling Dante to “back off” of (presumably) Vergil. You then a loud creak of the garage door being opened and more shuffling feet. The last thing you heard from the rest of the crew was Nero saying something unintelligible and shutting the door. Leaving Vergil and you alone in the foyer. 

     This was the first time Vergil had done something like this and you were unsure how to calm him down; so you just slowly wriggled your hand free and kneaded into the bright blue lines of your lover’s chest, “Hey,” you whispered in hopes of catching his attention, “It’s alright, Vergil.”

     His growling quieted a bit, however, his grip tightened into an almost painfully tight vice.

     A small grunting groan left your lips as you spoke again, “Vergil, we are okay. I’m okay,” you heard his growling subside further, “It’s okay, darling. We are safe, inside the Devil May Cry,” you leaned your head into his chest and kneaded harder against him, “It was just thunder. It’s okay--we are okay.”

     You continued to intermittently tell the blue devil various forms of grounding statements as he slowly calmed down; loosening his grip and quieting his thundering growl. Although he doesn’t have to breathe when in this form, you heard soft whistling as he took small short breaths in through his sharpened teeth. His shaking had subsided as well; only moving with the reverberations of his small breaths. 

     A grin tugged at your lips as you heard a small distant start of a purr from your kneading, “It’s alright, my love. Nothing is going to harm us…”

     Finally, he pulled back from your body. He placed his palms flat on the floor next to you and kept his wings around you, just much looser now. His pupil-less luminescent eyes just stared at you, leaving you to assume he was looking over your body for any sign of injury. 

     Very carefully, you moved your hands to the sides of his face and gently thumbed over the leathery denim-colored skin, “Hey…”

     He leaned forward placing his forehead against yours and closed his eyes, showing you that he was coming back around. You placed a long tender kiss against his fangs and heard him purr louder. 

     As quiet as he could manage with his distorted voice, Vergil whispered to you, “Are you okay?”

     “I’m fine,” you smiled and gently jested, “head’s killin’ me though and the floors kinda cold” you laughed and moved your hands to the gap of skin between his shoulder pauldrons and neck, kneading with your fingers, “Are you alright, Vergil?”

     Vergil nodded slightly, “Yes,” feeling the soft touch of your fingers against him, he allowed himself to de-trigger; slowly switching to his regular trigger and then his human form. All the while, you continued to massage his shoulders and tried your best to ignore the throbbing in your skull; wanting nothing more than to rip your head off. 

     The blue devil’s breath was ragged and he avoided looking you in the eyes. When he went to sit upwards, you grabbed his forearms, gaining his attention, “Vergil,” your voice was barely audible.

     After waiting a moment, Vergil cocked his head slightly, “What is it?”

     “Could,” you pursed your lips with embarrassment, “Could you help me up?”

     Vergil nodded, “Of course.”

     The eldest twin stood up and then leaned forwards to help you upright. You stumbled into him as you felt nauseously lightheaded.

     Noticing this, Vergil held one of your arms, “Steady…”

     You used your other hand to grab his shoulder and did your best to adjust to standing. He looked over to the couch and then back to you; before slowly picking you up and setting you on the pleather surface. Not wanting him to leave you, you grabbed his tie and tugged it slightly. 

     “I will be right back,” he grabbed the hand from the tan fabric and kissed it gently; which surprised you because of his distaste for out-of-house affections. 

     It was then that you noticed how quiet the shop was and how dark it was; the power had gone out completely. A loud creak from the garage door made you scrunch your face in slight pain. Vergil stood in the doorway and said nothing before moving back to stand near Dante’s desk. 

     You noticed a large cut through Dante’s shirt and realized that Vergil had used his tail to defend you from the red twin. Thankfully, Dante could heal quickly otherwise it might have been a trip to the ER from how large the incision seemed to be.

     “So care to explain what the fuck that was?” Dante’s voice was loud, as normal; however, it felt like he was shouting right beside you.

     Vergil noticed your discomfort and addressed his brother, “Quiet, you are being much too loud,” he flicked his gaze to you, “and no; I don’t.”

     The younger twin’s face scrunched in irritation. Before he could speak, Lady cut him off by roughly slamming her hand atop his shoulder, “Maybe the two of you should go home for the day? Dante can text you the information later on.”

     “Are you sure?” Vergil raised a brow at the sudden personable suggestion, “Or would Dante rather yell more absurd accusations at me?”

     The red devil growled, forgetting to keep quiet, “You son of--”

     “Watch your tongue. Mother is right here,” he flicked his eyes to the photo on Dante’s desk.

     “I fuckin--”

     You scrunched your face harshly and hoarsely snapped, “Oh my g-god,” you groaned, “Vergil isn’t beating me and I have a fuckin major headache. I thank you for your concern Dante, but it is misplaced… so can you please just drop it?”

     The younger twin shook his head, “You expect me to--”

     “It is a result of my night terrors and we are dealing with it ourselves,” Vergil said curtly, despite not wanting to talk about it. Then turned to address Lady, “I think we will take you up on that suggestion and leave,” the blue devil moved to grab your coats from the wall “Keep us informed..?"

     No one responded as Vergil handed you your coat and you put it on as best you could while sitting. You wobbled a bit as you went to stand, but, a set of strong arms picked you up. A small blush found its way to your face as you realized Vergil was carrying you from underneath your thighs in front of everyone else.

     Nero was the only one to address either of you as you headed up to the stairs, “Fly safe; winds pretty bad out there.”

     Vergil nodded in thanks to his son as the two of you disappeared from view, heading to the roof. You nestled your face into the crook of Vergil’s neck, taking a deep calming breath. It didn’t take long for you to sleep--or rather pass out--in the blue devil’s arms and it stayed that way till you got home. 

==

     When you opened your eyes next, you were laying underneath the duvet of your shared bed. Slowly blinking awake, you mumbled, “Vergil?” and felt around to see if he was nearby. Nothing.

     A hissing groan left your lips as you sat up and looked at the alarm clock. It had been several hours since you left the shop. You stretched upwards and immediately regretted it.

     “Fuck,” you groaned as you grabbed your head with one hand, the headache from earlier surged back into existence. 

     In hopes to remedy this, you decided to try taking a hot bath. The moment you stood up, however, you fell forwards and just barely caught yourself with your forearms. A small laugh of disbelief escaped through your painful groan, it was really just not your day. 

     The sound of a familiar sharp voice calling your name pulled you from your thoughts. You slowly moved your head upwards and saw Vergil standing above you with a wide-eyed confused stare. He was wearing a space-blue sleeveless turtleneck with black yoga pants.

     Admittedly, you weren’t exactly in a normal headspace when you cooed at the blue devil, “Ooh! You’re even prettier at this angle, Vergil.”

     The blue devil crouched in front of you and rested his forearms on his legs, “I leave you for five minutes and you end up on the floor?”

     With parted lips and raised brows, you eyed him up and down, “Was my plan all along since, from here, I get a really good view of your--”

     Vergil put up a hand telling you to stop, pinching the bridge of his nose with a sigh, “Would you like help up?”

     “Nah,” you jested and rolled over to face the ceiling, “I like being stuck on the floor,” a sly smirk tugged at your lips as you tilted your head back, “especially when we’re--”

     “Enough,” Vergil sighed and moved to help you upright into a soft embrace. 

     You sighed and leaned into him, “You know I love you, right Vergil?”

     “Perhaps I should take you to the hospital, you are acting in a very concerning manner…” 

     “No way in hell am I going to the doctor,” you pulled back and had a small pout on your lips, “I just need you beside me and I feel much better…”

     “That seems rather counter-intuitive, don’t you think?” his voice had an outlying tinge of sadness as he looked down at you. 

     “Not in the slightest. In fact,” you moved your hands to his chest, “I already am starting to feel better in your arms.”

     He avoided your eyes and had a small sad frown. A deep sharp pang of sadness stabbed at your heart at seeing him look so dejected. 

     You used a hand to cup the cheek facing away from you and gently turned him back to face you, “Vergil, care to join me for a bath?” you knew that he was still beating himself up over things and wanted to distract him for a while.

     A soft huffed laugh came from his nose as he closed his eyes in slight confusion, “What..?”

     “Come on, you need a break… to relax,” you cocked your head to the side, “Please?” you gave him the best puppy dog eyes you could muster.

     Which seemed to do the trick as he sighed with a smirk “If that is what you want then I will accompany you.”

     You pulled his face down to yours and gave him a small peck on the cheek, “Thank you, Vergil.”

     Although the blue devil was hesitant to let you go, you eventually wander off with a very wobbly saunter. Slowly, you moved to the dresser and began to grab some clothing when you heard Vergil murmur, “I’ll go draw it up and I’ll be back for you; please try and stay upright,” then he left the room.

     Your headache had subsided for the most part and was just a dull throbbing now. However, you still wanted to lay with him for a while, knowing that he needed it as much as you did. A warm smile crept its way to your face as you moved toward the edge of the bed to sit until he came back. You decided to lean over to the side table and grab your phone, checking it for any messages. Surprisingly, Dante and Nero had texted you.

     The younger twin had sent a rather all-over-the-place paragraph explaining that he was sorry for the outburst in the shop and that he was just worried that something was going on. You sent Dante a text explaining that it was nice of him to worry but that, before he goes off, he needs to listen better.

     Nero was making sure that both of you were alright and that if either of you needed anything to let him know. 

     Before you were able to respond, Vergil walked back into the room, “Are you ready?” his voice was very quiet and meek; catching you off guard.

     “Yeah just gimme one second, just gotta send this…” Vergil looked at you with a slightly curious head tilt, you smiled at him, “Nero was just making sure everything was okay.”

     “I see,” Vergil gave a weak grin.

     “Nero’s worried about you,” you set the phone back down on the table and grabbed one of Vergil’s hands, “He’s a good kid, ya know? You’re one lucky dad.”

      With a small shake of his head, Vergil pulled you off the bed, “Need I remind you that he is technically your son, too?”

     You laughed and pursed your lips, “Sometimes I forget that part if I’m honest,” the two of you slowly made your way to the bathroom, “Especially since we are like the same age--you cougar,” with a playful wink you let go of Vergil’s hand to get undressed.

     Vergil’s face scrunched, “You make it sound as if I am too old for you.”

     Playfully, you shoved his shoulder, “Bah- you don’t look a day over 30; besides,” you paused a moment as you watched Vergil remove his shirt, “I like older men~”

     “Those two statements contradict each other,” he noticed your gaze as he slid his pants off, “However, I appreciate the sentiment.”

     Once you both were fully stripped, Vergil helped you into the tub; fearing you would fall, “Hey, Vergil..?” he looked at you, “Can you sit in, like,” with pursed lips, you tried to figure out how to explain what you wanted, “in my lap? Like with your back to me?”

     “I-” he raised a brow and turned his lips to a thin line, “May I ask why?”

     A smile ghosted your face as you cooed, “I want to be able to play with your hair.”

     The blue devil was a little apprehensive at allowing such an action, but he did as you requested; positioning himself in front of you. His shoulders tensed up at the sudden feeling of vulnerability and being so exposed to you--even if the two of you have been together for a long time now. Noticing this, you gently wrapped your arms around his middle and leaned him back into you while you leaned back yourself; ending up in a semi-lying position. 

     Tenderly, you ran your fingers through his neatly slicked back locks, “You alright, Vergil?”

     With a small stuttering inhale, Vergil rested further against you, “Yes…”

     A faint purring came from the blue devil as he relaxed against your touch. The two of you just sat in the warm soapy water for nearly fifteen minutes, laying against each other. 

     Vergil shifted a bit to lay the side of his head on your chest before meekly whispering, “I love you,” typically, this would have made you ecstatic hearing him say such a thing; but there was an underlying sullen tone to the phrase. 

     You moved one of your hands to grab his while keeping up your ministrations through his hair, “I love you too, Vergil--more than anything.”

     “May I ask you something? And I want you to answer me honestly,” his eyes were glued to your fingers that were intertwined with his own.

     “Sure,” you removed your fingers from his hair and set that hand on his shoulder.

     “Are,” with each word his voice became quieter, “Are you afraid of me?”

     “No,” you answered without skipping a beat, “I will never be afraid of you, no matter what...”

     Another bout of silence fell as you felt him lean harder into you while taking slow deep breaths.

     “May--,” the Dark Slayer closed his eyes and spoke in a hushed voice, “May I confide in you for a moment?”

     “Of course, my love,” you leaned and kissed the top of his head attempting to reassure the man. 

     He sighed and turned further into your chest, hiding his face, “N-Nothing scares me more than causing you pain,” you felt his brow furrow, “These past few months, have been spurred on by a combination of that fear and,” he had a lump begin to form in his throat, “and my time spent under Mundus’s…” he swallowed audibly in an attempt to deter his emotions.

     You squeezed his hand tightly and you moved your other hand back to his hair, hoping to console him a bit. 

     Which worked, he took a shuddering breath and continued, “In my dreams--” he pursed his lips and unintentionally pushed himself as hard as he could into you, “I’m always back as- and I can’t,” he paused once more, realizing that this is much harder than he had anticipated, “control myself and I-I don’t know that it’s-- until it’s too late,” his voice cracked into silence as he gripped your hand in a vice hold. 

     That was enough for you to put together what he meant as your eyes widened. You whispered and moved your hand from his hair to his shoulder, holding him close, “Vergil…” you didn’t know what to do--how to help him.

     All you could think to do was to hold him close and comfort him as he cried into your chest. You knew that he had nightmares about his time of being enslaved to Mundus and the other atrocities that have happened to the poor blue devil. Throughout your time together, Vergil had told you about that time and has even sought comfort in you when he was upset. 

     A meek whisper pulled you from your thoughts, “I’m sorry,” he sighed heavily, “I know this is substandard behavior.”

     “Vergil,” you kneaded his bicep, “This is normal behavior, you don’t have to be strong all the time,” placing a soft kiss on the top of his head, you murmured, “You’re human--you have emotions; both good and bad.”

     “I feel as if I have disappointed you,” despite his sad tone, a light purring could be heard from him--indicating he was at least comfortable.

     “You could never disappoint me, Vergil--especially over something like this. Things take time to heal and even then they still leave scars; you aren’t to blame for what has happened, my love.”

     “I do not understand how after what I have done in my lifetime,” his voice cracked with a tinge of frustration as he sat upright. His front side was facing out of the tub toward the innards of the room,  leaving you to see his side profile, “Why you still believe me to be a good person…”

     “Vergil,” you moved to sit up as well, no longer resting your back on the tub, “I don’t believe that you are a good person; I know you are a good person,” you watched his adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed his emotions again, “I wouldn’t have married you if I didn’t.”

     A thin pained grin adorned his features as he turned his face from you; hiding the fact he had begun to cry once more.

     “People do bad things,” you shrugged your shoulders a bit in thought, “that doesn’t make them a bad person. Traumatic experiences make people do things that otherwise might not have.” you paused and thought for a moment, “Vergil, you have been punished ten-fold by everyone your entire life, even for things that you had no control over. Which is total shit. You deserve to be treated well and like a living breathing person. I know you are a good person because you have shown me that many times over; you are worthy of love, Vergil.”

     Vergil let out a loud shuttering exhale and turned his head to look at you with pursed lips. He wanted to say something, anything, but all he could muster was a small whimper of acknowledgment. 

     Moving to your knees, you spoke softly, “Is there anything that I can do to help you with these nightmares?”

     “I,” after a small pause in thought, he turned to come face to face with you and grabbed your hands in his, “Could you promise me something?”

     “Anything.”

     “If we get into any altercations with,” he avoided your eyes with an increasing embarrassment eating the edges of his mind, “Angelo-type demons, please, leave them to me; please..?”

     Your brow twitched in confusion as you cocked your head to the side; that’s when things clicked and you remembered what happened shortly before these terrors began, “Sure, if that is what brings you solace then I will,” you smiled, trying to make him feel a little better.

     “Thank you,” his eyes re-connected with yours and he gave a small smirk.

     The two of you sat for a brief moment before you pursed your lips and smiled semi-awkwardly, “I hate to ruin the moment, but could we get out of the water? I’m kinda cold…”

     Vergil straightened his posture and nodded, “Of course, wanderer,” he moved to get out of the water and held his hands out for yours.

     You grabbed them and wobbly got up, “Oh? I haven’t heard you use that in a long time.”

     A small huffed laugh came from the blue devil as he handed you a towel, “It was the first nickname I gave you. I thought it appropriate for the moment…”

     “It was wasn’t it?” you shook your head, “That feels like a lifetime ago…”

     “In a sense, it was quite literally,” he leaned over and drained the tub.

     With a small laugh and nod, you finished drying off. While the two of you got dressed, you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of your lover. 

     “Is something wrong?” Vergil noticed your stare.

     Pursing your lips you thought for a moment and decided to indulge in his love for Blake’s poems, “ 'Joy & Woe are woven fine,/A Clothing for the Soul divine;/Under every grief & pine,/Runs a joy with silken twine.' "

     An amused look adorned his face as he stood with parted lips thinking for a moment, “Auguries of Innocence?” the Dark Slayer cupped the side of your face, “We never did finish that poem; you’d always fall asleep.”

     “Not my fault you have such a soothing voice,” you placed your hands on his chest and leaned into his palm, “Want to try again?”

     He leaned against your forehead, “If it is alright with you, I think I’d rather sleep…”

     “Only if you stay beside me,” you looked into his icy eyes; enamored with the thousands of different blue-grey hues, “please..?”

     “Are you sure-- Mnm,” he was cut off by a sudden connection of your lips.

     It was a slow and passionate kiss as you poured all the love you could into that one moment. Once satisfied, you left the kiss and whispered against his lips, “I wouldn’t have it any other way, Vergil.”

     Without another word, he picked you up and took you into the bedroom. Carefully, he set you down and crawled into bed with you. A small lingering sense of dread crept in from the edges of his mind; however, those were pushed away when you laid atop his chest. You curled into him and he tangled his limbs with yours.

     As the two of you drifted off to sleep, Vergil had a very small content grin as he allowed himself to sleep; knowing that, at least for tonight, his terrors will be kept at bay. 

==

Ending Notes: Sorry that was lowkey all over the place, I just went with the flow of my brain. It kind of just ended up being a long fluff fic.  Also to add some explanation to Vergil’s bit where he swore and freaked out: I figure that when Vergil lost his autonomy for so long as Nelo Angelo, he ended up becoming hyper-aware of what he is doing at all times. So when he does something that he either can’t remember doing or didn’t want to do that it would send him into a panic; fearing that he is going to lose his freedom again. 🛡️⚔️🛡️ Poem quoted:      Auguries of Innocence: William Blake

==

Want to see more like this? Want to read my work quicker and several stories that are not on Tumblr? Check this out on my AO3 (Linked here)

MASTER LIST FOR TUMBLR

#Devil may cry 5 #devil may cry 3 #dmc #vergil devil may cry #vergil #dante #dante devil may cry #vergil x reader #vergil x male reader #male reader #fan fiction #reposted from AO3 #angst #comfort #fluff #I swear Vergil is my comfort character #I just like making him sad #idk why #sad vergil #Nelo angelo #vergil has nightmares #reader is married to vergil

[iapetusneume]

Wing Tier List - Primarch Version

So, because my partners encouraged me to write this and there seems to be a few mutuals who are interested, I’ve compiled my Wing Tier List for the Primarchs. This is inspired by this post about an exchange between Jaghatai Khan and Mortarion shortly after Mortarion ascended to be a Daemon Primarch. I am in no way an expert in 40k tabletop rules or lore - these rulings were made mostly off of Vibes with a dash of the lore that I know - or of wings on fictional characters. I’m just someone who has spent way too much time thinking about this.

I should also mention that, while it is impossible for me to be Normal about liking Sanguinius, this did not influence the actual rankings.

(I’m going to try to use official art as best I can.)

So, let’s get to it!

Contender: Sanguinius of the Blood Angels

Because to start off with anyone else would be heresy. His wings are so well-known that he carries the nickname “the Angel” among his brothers as well as the other Legions. Jokingly and lovingly called Hawk-Boy by fandom. Commonly-known in canon as one of the two most prettiest primarchs. Wings so significant that when I went to google “which primarchs have wings” to make sure I wasn’t missing someone Obvious, I got this:

Yeah, I didn’t even say Sanguinius in my search, but Google just Knew. (And also, thank you so much to @plagueplanethq​ for helping me fact-check how many Primarchs actually have wings.)

Anyways. Sanguinius is first to be evaluated because he’s the OG winged-primarch. He’s also happens to be the only Loyalist on this list.

Analysis: When setting out to do the look for Sanguinius, the original artists leaned in super hard to the “Angel” keyword and not so much the “vampire” part. If you showed me a picture of Sanguinius before I was into 40k and asked me what he is, I would have never guessed “vampire.” I have seen these sorts of wings hundreds of times. Are they nicely done? Oh definitely. Does he make it look good? Absolutely. How unique is it? ...not really? He’s an angel, and has white wings. The artists understood the assignment and did a great job, but this isn’t exactly new:

7 / 10

++

Contender: Angron of the World Eaters

Analysis: When a dude has a nickname like “the Red Angel,” well, of course he’ll eventually get wings. I was a little worried at first that this was going to be too much “traditional demon or devil” wings, but I do like some of the detail on the model! Doing skin and/or scales for the wings also feels more practical for someone pledged to Khorne, because it feels like a chance of less maintenance than if feathers get all messy. (IRL birds will go take baths and such when they need it, but is Angron going to bother? That’s up for debate.) The spikes are very nice, and the few holes in the wings add some personality. It’s also a good reminder that they’re flying because magic and because the Warp laughs in the face of science. Consider me pleasantly surprised:

7 / 10

++

Contender: Magnus the Red of the Thousand Sons

Analysis: Feathers make sense for the guy pledged to a god who has birb motifs going on. I really appreciate the fact that these feathers are distinct, and have a bit of character. Also, honorable mention to hexygoblin‘s paint job here, which is stunning. He’s definitely got the best feathers on wings. I also feel like Tzeentch would appreciate a bit of style:

8 / 10

++

Contender: Fulgrim of the Emperor’s Children

Analysis: It is truly a shame that we don’t have a more current model for Daemon Primarch Fulgrim. I am forced to go off of the vibe of the model and that first image of him screaming to try to make a wing assessment. This looks fairly standard for what one might think of demons or devils, and I gotta say, I’m not impressed? The second drawing suggests feathers, which would make sense for the Phoenix. Mostly, I would expect the primarch who pledged themself to the Lord of Excess to be more... excessive? I’ve seen some cool fanart for different wing interpretations for Fulgrim, but I’m trying to go off of ‘canon’ as much as I can here:

5 / 10

(I will have to reassess one day when he gets a new Daemon Primarch model. Maybe we don'thave one yet because it isn't perfect.)

++

Contender: Mortarion of the Death Guard

Analysis: I’m definitely getting moth vibes from the way the wings are done on the model. This model was also designed a bit more naturally to look like he’s flying. Artist took the prompt of “decay, so probably flies” and gave him flies on the model, which means bonus wings. But this isn��t a “how many wings” contest, this is for “coolest wings.” (Mortarion would win for sheer quantity of wings because of all of the flies.) There’s no way he’s flying with those wings without Warp Shenanigans. I feel like these are the most unique out of all of them. The paint job and also how the wings looks like they’re trying to be tatters also suggests the futile fight against entropy, which is the Lord of Decay’s bag:

9 / 10

++

Honorable mention (since he’s not a primarch) is Vashtorr, because I wanted a 10 / 10 on this list:

Coolest wings, for sure. Should they be able to fly? Absolutely not. But Chaos Gods don’t care what you think is logical.

10 / 10

.

.

.

*drumroll* WINNER OF THE [PRIMARCH] TIER LIST IS...........

MORTARION!

#sanguinius #angron #magnus the red #fulgrim #mortarion #primarch #40k shitposting #please do not take this seriously #also Daemon Primarch Fulgrim model WHEN??? #i saw so many kitbashes when trying to google primarchs with wings

[albaqae]

THEORY FOR ATSV I JUST CAME UP WITH

Maybe the spot isn’t an anomaly, hear me out

In definition of the movie, the spot SHOULD be an anomaly, he shouldn’t have happened because miles shouldn’t have happened and the collider shouldn’t have happened, but there’s so much flaw of thinking it like that

I found it weird how there’s a collider in most universes, it was more of “was it developed enough?” Rather than “was it there?”, thats why the spot found it super easy and fast, so why and how?? It seemed a little too coincidental, it would mean miles-like people would be sparsed around the universe, right?

Also miles dad is deemed to die, right? But in the timeline that they’re headed in he dies because of the SPOT!! Not anything else, in the vision the spot is the only possible thing, again, why and how?

It might be the universe adjusting with the conditions it’s facing for the canon event, but considering that, as Miguel said, they can be VERY EASILY disrupted, it’s weird

I’d say the mere PRESENCE of the spot is enough to disrupt it, but it’s actually the opposite, miles’s universe is THRIVING because of the spot doing what he’s doing, canon events are actually HAPPENING thanks to him

Miles is also an anomaly, but all the canon events are lining up for him, his universe is doing a-okay, so…

Maybe all of this was meant to happen all along?

^@albaqae in tumblr (my art acc!)

Feel free to add bc I’m pretty sure I might’ve missed smth but JUST IMAGINE IF THIS BECOMES A THING

#it sounds a lot like a rant bc it is #i literally just came up w it lol #atsv theory #atsv miles #atsv #atsv spot #atsv the spot #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #Spider-Man: across the spider verse theory #spiderman #the spot #the spot theory #atsv spoilers #alba draws #atsv fanart

[virtualcarrot]

[KKIR] Modern AU - Teaching Pains Pt 6

Part 5

Prompt 6: Secret

.

Kakashi watches Iruka be swallowed by the crowd with a mild feeling of disquiet that he’s quick to dismiss. Whatever tension he might have sensed in their interaction can easily be attributed to the throngs of strangers wandering the halls.

When the teachers first told him about the open day event, Kakashi will admit he didn’t think much of it. If pushed, he might even go as far as to say he thought they were all going way overboard with their preparations. After all, just how many people could be interested in an open day at a medium-sized secondary school? A place of sweaty teens and faded wall paint? 

Well, Kakashi’s secure enough in himself to admit he might have been wrong.

And also that he’s quite looking forward to the show. Sasuke and he have had occasions to talk about martial arts together, and he’s curious to see if the kid’s as good as his boasts. He may not be as loud and overstating about it as Naruto’s ‘they should just give me my black belt already, believe it!’ but that only makes his understated haughtiness all the more terribly familiar to Kakashi.

And sure, Kakashi was an absolute pest at that age, but he was also already breathtakingly skilled. 

In short: watching Sasuke in action could make for a nice performance.

He gives Anko a loose wave of greeting from afar, only to get a perplexing predatory smile in response. He decides to make himself scarce, lest she decides to put him to contribution with the public.

His retreat drives him to roam a few more corridors, catching sight of the signs they’ve gone through such pains to hang. A few people stop to study them, eyes quickly glazing over the history lesson of the creation of the school.

Kakashi can’t fully blame them. It’s very ‘a healthy mind in a healthy body’ stuff, only repackaged under Hiruzen’s favored slogan about the Will of Fire.

Still, can’t argue with the results, for all that it makes for a dreary read.

He comes across a few students and trades a few words with them. He does the same with the coworkers he walks past, out of politeness, but there’s clearly something going on backstage because every single one of these interactions leaves him with a feeling that he’s missing something.

He doesn’t like it.

In the end, Mizuki’s the one who gives him his first lead as to what might be going on.

“Hey,” the teacher says, approaching him in the corner of the hall where Kakashi had settled in to wait for the performance.

He’s tentative in his approach but isn’t treating Kakashi much differently than usual, so Kakashi greets him back.

Mizuki settles by his side with a mild wince. “Did you… Did you piss off Iruka? Or something?” he adds hastily.

Kakashi doesn’t even have to pass their last interactions in review to answer that. One of the best things about Iruka is, if there’s something wrong, he’ll be told. Loudly.

“Nope.”

His answer doesn’t appear to comfort Mizuki, who gives him an entirely skeptical look. “Are you sure? Because--” He cuts off, bumps his forehead with the heel of his hand. “Ah shit, you sparred with him, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” Kakashi answers simply.

“And you beat him? Because that’d explain everything.”

Kakashi neither confirms nor denies, leaving Mizuki free to take it in the affirmative.

The teacher throws his head back with a sigh.

“I thought he’d grown out of it,” he confesses in exasperation, rubbing a hand over his face before looking askance. “Listen, it’s not his fault, but... Iruka’s a terribly sore loser." He chuckles humorlessly. "I know it doesn’t look like it. Trust me, the first time it happened to me, I did not see it coming either.”

This doesn’t fit anything Kakashi’s learned about Iruka since they’ve met, but Mizuki’s known him longest. He might be lying, though for what reason Kakashi can’t figure.

He tilts his head to signify he’s still listening but remains otherwise neutral.

Far from discouraged by his lack of reaction, Mizuki continues.

“Look, I know it's none of my business, but he's been spreading a rumor about you, and I thought you'd like a heads up. I won’t say any more because that’s between you and him but… give him a day to cool off, and maybe talk to him? Just not today. I really wouldn’t do it today if I were you, he's too wired. Trust me,” he says, briefly making eye contact to stress the importance of his advice.

Done speaking, he takes a short break, pushing his bangs out of his face with a tired look. Then he shakes himself up, dropping his hand with a little smile full of sympathy.

“I’d also avoid interacting with students too much before this is sorted out. It’s not too bad, what Iruka’s been saying, but it could still get ugly quickly.”

Kakashi gives a noncommittal hum. For a moment, a flash of annoyance ignites Mizuki’s eyes before his eyelids lower meekly again.

“Just… go easy on him, okay? Iruka’s always liked being in the spotlight, since he was a kid. As an orphan and all. So it’s difficult for him when he realizes he’s not as special as he wishes he was.”

And Mizuki is not nearly as cunning as he believes himself to be either.

But Kakashi lets him pretend. He thanks Mizuki for the information and, using as pretext Izumo’s announcement of the imminent start of the performance, excuses himself.

His mind’s a bit too full with the awareness of the workplace drama--workplace drama he is involved in, somehow--to fully appreciate the show, but he still stays for it. Naruto is, as expected, all over the place, but he also displays even more tenacity and courage than Kakashi expected from him. Neji and Sasuke’s skills are a quick evidence, and Lee shows the sort of showmanship that instantly reminds him of Gai.

He also has the energy, as is proven by the fact he then joins the following performance of acrobatic gymnastics with Tenten.

Kakashi catches a few members of the audience cringing at the antics and shrugs. He remembers what it was to feel ashamed to be associated with Gai, and how much better of a man he is since he learned to appreciate it instead.

After a while he checks the time and slips out of the gymnasium. He’d have liked to talk to Iruka before leaving, but there are only so many office hours he can skip at the university before Tsunade has his head.

“We should talk,” he texts Iruka once he’s back in his office, his secluded private office that, nowadays, doesn’t feel as nearly cozy as it used to before Tsunade and Hiruzen respectively strong-armed and guilt-tripped him into giving specialized lessons at Konoha Middle-High.

He doesn’t get an answer to his text.

Past six in the evening and with the end of his shift, Gai makes a dramatic entrance and they go out for drinks. There’s nothing Gai can do about Mizuki and Iruka but he’s both a good listener and of good advice, and regardless he’ll get a kick about learning about Lee.

Kakashi’s not wrong. Gai decides right then and there that he needs to meet the kid.

Gai’s in the middle of a tirade about the Power of Youth when Kakashi’s phone rings.

It’s Naruto.

When Kakashi first started at Konoha Middle-High, there was a period of introductions. He wrote his name on the board, added his phone number underneath, and made very sure they knew never to use it because if they had something to ask him while he was on school grounds, they could come to him directly, and if he wasn’t on school grounds, then he was off the clock and intended to stay off the clock.

Naruto’s never called him before.

Mizuki’s warning not to interact with students rings in his mind.

This is how he notices an unread text from Iruka, short enough that the preview displays it in full.

“nedhlp at schl,” it reads.

Kakashi takes the call.

-

@kakairu-rocks

#kakairu valentine's week 2024 #kakairu.rocks #hatake kakashi #umino iruka #kakairu #kkir #naruto #fic : naruto #my scrawl

[unohanabbygirl]

So from what i gathered litathesissy called corviids out over plagiarism in fanart (one of luke holding his oc kid) and a fic (a one shot of hers included a scene similar to another where Lucemond son goes into a rut and Aemond pulls him away from Lucerys who says "I'm his mother" to which he replies "And I'm your uncle"). Corviids responded by saying they remember reading the fic but it wasn't intentional though they could add it as inspiration if the authors reaches out (the author being grimsoul) and that not mentioning the original work the Luke art was based on was a mistake but that it was a forgotten piece that she posted randomly.

In the middle of this the acid rain author came out to say "now that lita is exposed as a bully, she said I'm a groomer but I've never given the minor smut scenes to beta and I didn't know they were a minor + lita says i write anon comments on her works except she blocked me on ao3 and i have her on mute" got flamed by many on twitter bc of saying that the grooming allegations are false and that it's "over a mistake of 2 days", others are saying the author knew and ignored warnings.

Also gybtm author apparently replied to the lita tweet to say "yeah corviids should've said it's inspired by grimsoul" and got OUTED then stepped back and said they haven't read the works of either sides after privating the fic for a bit (+ lita seemed to have other twt accs for drama and said to someone who told her you bullied people "and I'd do it again!") Lita and middle_c also deleted their entire accounts.

Anyways monkkeyslut posted an update on "All I had to give" saying she won't write anymore and is very much done with the fandom. The chapter has comments about the drama flaming corviids for how they're not exempt from dragging and it's all just??? Chill?

Ntbiutb author has an ask also summarising what happened and seems vindicated over lita but is very much mocking the "protecting the children" narrative against the acid rain author considering Elliot's face is often dragged into inappropriate conversations by Lucemonders.

Twitter is a dumpster fire, people are deactivating left and right, the fandom is imploding for the 8295th time this month, hope you're okay.

Oh my… that’s a lot.

I have to say that I’ve never been more happy with the decision to remain in my own little bubble. It also helps that i’m way lesser known among all the lucemond authors so there’s no pressure on my shoulders 😭

I just hope everything can come to a resolve soon. I’m not new to fandom so fighting amongst everyone isn’t new, but it never fails to make me a bit sad. This should be a fun/safe space for us, you know? But we’re all people with different views and personalities behind the screens so it makes sense for drama to go down sooner or later

Anyways, I’m more than fine anon! Thankfully no mean comments have been directed at me so I’m incredibly thankful to everyone here for being such sweethearts 🩷

#asks

[mrjakeparker]

First off, for anyone who needs a primer on AI Generated Art here's a concise video on the subject to get you up to speed: LINK I used Midjourney I started out with these prompts to see what I would get: Astronaut with a skull head +skull + skeleton + red spacesuit + character design + full body + red + sci-fi + star wars + Ralph McQuarrie + Jake Parker, cartoon, cartoon network, adventure time style. Then I thought I'd mix it up and see what prompts like octane render + 3d would give me. I didn't like what I was getting so I went back to my original prompts but added rubberhose animation + pixar + disney + 3d. The results were better, so I asked for more variations. When I got them I decided I was getting diminishing returns and called it a day. Lots of interesting ideas to put into my design, but no one design really felt like it nailed the vibe I got from my original design. After this experiment here's what I think:

1) AI Art Generators will only become more powerful/capable. So wishing it away is a waste of time. The only path forward is figuring it out how to implement it and how to regulate it. 2) With revolutionary technology comes a reorganization of status and power. The status quo HATES this and will do almost anything to stop it from happening.

AI Generated Art shifts the power (and wealth) of creating images from people who have training, to people who don't.

This reorganization happened in the 2000s when programs like Maya, 3D Studio Max, and Photoshop made art creation a lot more accessible to people who couldn't paint traditionally, or sculpt clay.

It allowed places like animation studios to be havens for creative people to make art who might not have been able to draw really well. Which really upset people who had trained to animate in 2D on paper, and who studied classical painting techniques. Which leads me to 3: 3) Not everyone who is creative can make art, and not everyone who can make art is creative. The creative people who could also adapt and learn new tools absolutely thrived in the new digital art world.

A lot of the art I've seen generated from AI is a lot like hearing someone impersonate English but who doesn't know the language. It sounds right, but they aren't actually saying anything.

4) I see these AI Art generators as tools. Another resource for creative people to add to their toolbox to make them even more creative. Or at the very least, make their job easier.

5) AI isn't an end to end problem solver for productions. There's still a needs to be an artist to translate it into something usable. Someone needs to interpret AI art into something a modeler can model, or set designer can build.

Example: After a producer plugs a bunch of prompts from a script into Midjourney they take it to the art dept. The crew gets a brief from an art director and instead of a lot of back and forth, the art director points at a page of AI art and says "Make it look like this"

6) Questions I’m still thinking about:

- Do these AI Art Generators actually undermine illustrators, photographers, concept artists? Or does it actually elevate these industries?

- Is it bad to democratize something like art creation?

- Who truly benefits from this shift in power? Where is the money flowing to?

- Should artists have the option of their artwork being removed from the AI generator's databases? Or is any art you post online free game? Does the AI generator do anything different than what an artist does who has strong stylistic influences from other artists?

7) I'm still learning about this, and still reading up on all the pros and cons.

I would love to know your thoughts. 

We've been discussing it over on the Discord for a couple weeks now: LINK

I also posted this on IG and it blew up. I could not keep up with the comments. Over 750 of them! If you want to get a vibe check on what the broader art community thinks of this check it out here: LINK

-Jake