smokinstyle

[smokinstyle]

private selective mutuals only multimuse featuring wanda maximoff of marvel comics written by gabriel. ©

[smokinstyle]

Devil May Cry 5 | ▶ dev. Capcom

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hi. fuck ice. here is how you can help families affected by unlawful deportation

edit: and FUCK LAPD. here is how you can help bail out protestors who are in the trenches, facing mass arrests and putting their bodies on the line.

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to anyone's thats going to protests today please be safe!! and fight like hell + fuck donald trump!!!

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it was just meant to be a small detour. honest! maybe it would be easier to visit gongaga, for example, on his request. this was special though, he tries in self justification, with the price of fighting all these disgusting monsters on the way. unfortunate with the way he doesn't bother to make himself more presentable, and really, he should've. the locals had looked cautiously, even taking some steps away, just in case he was considered dangerous. upon entering, he gives a rather appreciative whistle in seeing the architecture on this still standing church building in the slums. " nice place. hard to find these around outside of midgar, y'know. sorry about this, i haven't had time to clean up. " and finally, he looks down upon them, her stare curious yet wary. it doesn't quite stop his steps though, only once stopping in front of these flowers. the body language as a frame is nonchalant, however muscles are tense with a clenched tight jaw. it's unusual, but is it weird to feel a sense of peace to see the sun illuminate these small field of flowers? maybe because their keeper is familiar in unnatural ways. he ignores that feeling. he shows a peculiarity to them, crouching and fingers gently grazing over these petals. " word is you're the person to see. " his hand feels warm, like a sweet summers day but he doesn't allow himself the luxury of enjoying things for long before his touch causes it to wither and rot.

" so, flower girl — " hands are wiped off on his pants upon standing and when he turns back to face them, fingers are immediately pushing his hair back with crusted blood. " i traveled a long way to see you. " ominous but the hard edged look makes it worse; still playful. " should've sent you a letter but i have a feeling you wouldn't be getting it. you wouldn't need it anyways. " it's hard to be vulnerable, especially with strangers, especially with friends. let's put this brick wall back up and bury yourself 100 feet underground where you're layers will never be pulled back. brother, i'm sorry. please come back. i'm not whole unless you're here. " flowers... what do you recommend? "

starter for @smokinstyle

Aerith doesn't organize her flower beds. Nothing should grow in Midgar anyway and she'd rather let nature take its course. If anything dies, it wasn't meant to grow just yet. If anything thrives, the Planet must've made that spot just for it. There's something less lonely about giving them the room to grow. Maybe because they'd like the same thing sometimes but only have Sector 5 to traipse through day in and day out. She sits in the pews and watches what little air filters in through the chapel's cracked windows bend the stems of the flowers this way and that. Peaceful amidst the tiny pocket of quiet the building provides. Sometimes that peace almost feels fake. All the rest of Midgar turning cogs and running machines and citizens working their fingers to the bone or hiding away. It feels wrong for respite to be possible only for the few who walk in and let themselves exist in it.

Well. Not everyone does that, though, do they? The front door creaks open behind Aerith and the boots that poke at the floorboards don't make familiar footfalls--She doesn't get many visitors as it is, but she knows the difference in sound between the worn soles of her neighbors and the firm plodding of the Turks' loafers. They turn their head and make a perfect penitent profile on the pew, one hand occupied with a half-bow tied stem for a wreath she's trying to start work on. "Hello?" They squint a little to see the figure entering better as he eclipses the doorway, light only poking beams at him instead of haloing him with how much space he takes up.

Aerith has never seen him before, she realizes immediately. They'd remember someone like this. Bright red coat and white hair. How many weeks has it been since anyone new entered the Sector? Buried themselves away under the Plate to hide? He can't be Shinra... right? Her shoulders straighten a bit and she smiles, friendly even though she'd like to frown and poke for immediate explanations; Is he--Is that blood? Aerith sets down the stem on her lap. "Do you need something, sir?"

[smokinstyle]

i’ve been bed rotting in a decidedly self destructive way lately

being and nothingness, jean-paul sartre // the metamorphosis, franz kafka // i am the architect of my own destruction, juansen dizon // albert camus // as consciousness is harnessed, susan sontag // ralph waldo emerson // allen ginsberg // tennesse williams // letters to felice, franz kafka // sylvia plath

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imagine dante being a triple a threat during pride month like what ur mom lets to get u be agender aromantic AND asexual???

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I finished DMC 1

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post of quick verses

clair obscur: expedition 33, a draft created by the paintress in a botched view of verso's personality and desires. read more here.

resident evil, (shout out to ren) son of sparda and home of several viruses that act as devil arms.

bloodborne, something something spardas remains found in the tombs along with his wife, eva, placed beside him. born from the descendant of the great one, he plays the role of hunter, aiming to kill those higher than he to stop the never ending nightmare.

final fantasy 7, (using this from rens and vets ideas our verses are intertwined) decedent of the god sparda from eons ago, holding one half of spardas summon materia like an amulet. having to kill his brother from born nelo angelo, he places his hub in the dustbowl, the city that lies under the golden saucer. there he uses it as information for shinra and its monsters.

cyberpunk, uhhhh whatever gabe is making im bouncing off of that ill back to u guys on that; something about dante being an outlander?

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dante knowing vergil died but still holding onto the slim fact that he may still be alive and that he isnt living his life out for nothing

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PRE-ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP MEME 0.2

over a year ago, i made this meme & since then, it’s blown up. so, over a year later — i thought i would make a new one. so here it is, after several requests & a pile of brains,  THE PRE-ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP MEME 0.2 send me a  ✿  and i’ll fill out the template below. bold for things i could definitely see or want, italics for things i could see or am unsure of and striked out for things i don’t want or cannot see.

FRIENDSHIP.     childhood friends  /  work buddies or coworkers  /  family friends  /  friends with benefits  /  smoking buddies  /  adventure buddies  /  fake friends  /  recently friends  /  party buddies  /  friendship of need  /  dying friendship  /  circumstantial friendship  /  partners in crime  /  old friendship  /  [ your muse ] is the good influence  /  [ your muse ] is the bad influence  /  [ my muse ] is the good influence  /  [ my muse ] is the bad influence  /  opposites attract  /  ride or die  /  frenemies  /  roommates or flatmates  /  penpals  /  exes to friends  /  enemies to friends  /  other

ROMANCE.     childhood sweethearts  /  [ your muse is mines ] childhood crush  /  [ my muse is yours ] childhood crush  /  exes  /  exes to lovers  /  forbidden lovers  /  highschool sweethearts  /  secret relationship  /  opposites attract  /  long distance  /  unrequited [ from your muses side ]  /  unrequited [ from my muses side ]  /  unrequited [ from both sides ]  /  skinny love  /  friends to lovers  /  enemies to lovers  /  spurious relationship  /  power couple  /  newly entered  /  soulmates [ metaphorical ]  /  soulmates  [ literal ]  /  awkward  /  turning toxic  /  toxic love  /  cheating [ on your muse ]  /  cheating [ with your muse ]  /  other 

FAMILIAL.     siblings [ half ]  /  siblings [ step ]  /  [ my muse ] is an older sibling figure to your younger sibling figure  /  [ my muse ] is a younger sibling figure to your older sibling figure muse  /  [ my muse ] is a parental figure to yours  /  [ my muse ] is a child figure to your muse  /  guardian figure  /  legal guardian  /  adoptive child  /  foster child  /  [ your muse ] is taken under mines wing  /  [ my muse ] is taken under yours wing  /  other

ANTAGONISTIC.     dangerous to each other  /  dangerous to others  /  unpredictable  /  rivals  /  petty  /  developing into sexual or romantic tension  /  based off family matters  /  based of off circumstance  /  based of professional matters  /  based off misunderstanding or lies  /  conflict of ideology  /  betrayal  /  hero - villain dynamic  /  enemies  /  fight club  /  friends turned enemies  /  lovers turned enemies  /  exes turned enemies  /  other 

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May Sarton, The House by the Sea

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gm everypony

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feet is propped up on the table, shoving away half - empty pizza boxes as ivory lays right on his lap. gun oil and a rag in hand, he takes this once in every five years of cleaning the guns, giving the shine that they once had. it's hard to ignore the way a stained, calloused thumb brushes along several engravings: for tony redgrave by .45 artworks. a heavy ache lays heavy in his ribs, his face betrays no emotion, only expressing indifference and boredom. he only lets himself reminiscence for a moment, hearing vergil's voice cut through the background noise of the jukebox. he's so used to ones own presence that it nearly startles him and immediately looking up, it's no surprise to witness vergil pouting.

and in just younger brother fashion does he also choose to ignore when his older brother cuts himself off from conversation. he scoffs, the spell broken as the text fades back into the cool metal. " oh come on, don't be like that. you need to work your way up to the big leagues. you're a junior demon hunter, verg. y'think i'm just going give you something difficult to start out? " let's just push past the fact that vergil — no, urizen — was one of the most powerful demons he has ever faced, like his older brother wasn't a threat to the world several times over. but, this was a "punishment", an act he doesn't plan on overstaying its welcome, but he absolutely will keep it going if irks him more and more. " what happens when something happens to you? that's on me. "

as humorous as this situation is, including the mental victory of seeing his brother take what he's given, his tone falls low. " besides, i'm leaving to see someone soon. i can't take any jobs right now. "

@smokinstyle said: ❝ there’s going to be payback, you know. ❞

He turns the case file over in his hands, eyes unflinching. It feels a bit like playing with fire every time he takes one of these things; but what else can he do? He doesn't have any other skills. It feels too late to learn to do anything else especially when he's already one of the best in this field. In another life he could have been a librarian. Maybe a poet. That feels like a frightening dream to let himself consider. He closes his eyes for a moment. He's lucky Devil May Cry is tight-lipped otherwise the rumor--no, the truth, own up to your horror--that Vergil was Urizen the Demon King and the man who destroyed countless lives in Red Grave would run him into the ground a third time. There will one day be someone who meets Vergil for a job and asks if he's related to Dante and why he hasn't been around / where he's been / why Dante never talked about him before. And there will be a day that someone doesn't believe his lies and does a little too much digging and figures it out. And then the good days will be over again.

It's honestly amazing no one has come for revenge yet. Vergil certainly deserves it. He breathes in sharply through his nose. Hits the manila folder with the back of his other hand a few times. It's just like Dante to try and pawn off a job he doesn't want onto Vergil and turn it into some sort of condescending 'warning.'

And it's just like Vergil to ignore it. "Thanks for the case, brother." His words come as drily as they possibly can, turning his body away from Dante squarely, trying to cut off the conversation with a literal cold shoulder, eyes not once glancing or turning to fix on his twin but lingering staunchly on the folder instead, refusing to give Dante anything more than he already has. "I'm a better fit for it than you are."

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why does everybody keep calling you a nevron. idk seems kind of harsh to me when you're just a weird and tall totally human person

it would be easy to expect a witty response, something flippant, or flirtatious. only, when he looks at @verleseau, it's directly through and not even at him, his mind completely elsewhere for the moment. not really here. lips press together as the snap, crackle, pop fills the quiet air of night; it's beautiful, save for the bright and obvious 85 that glows ominously among the continent. the night, as usual, looks extremely beautiful with a sky littered in stars and lines that looks like tactful strokes of paint. he vaguely wondered if those that existed saw something entirely different. and what would they see? " is that what i look like to you? " there were pass by glances at his reflection in streams and the ocean alike, nothing human about him. instead the disgusting scale leather that covered from head to toe, save for a lava - like glow that emanates from his chest, a tower of a beast that matched those akin.

and would it be selfish to ask for more information? why not, right? they've known each other for years and here's to many years more. extending a hand to look at the back, all he sees heat and scales. what would he give to live with actual flesh, a face someone could stand to look at, and existence worth while to live in this world filled with vibrant life. " interesting. " it's only a momentary relief but doesn't show the vulnerability that creeps up the back of his neck. and while not fully satisfied with the observation, if at least one person sees him differently than the rest, then maybe... he hums. " and if i said that they're right? i know i know, you're so used to my good looks you can't imagine me as anything else. " a pause, letting the silence linger. " hardly matters at this point, 'till death do us part. " a throw away joke, to ease the tension that started to harden in his lungs, if he needed them to breathe. " have you ever considered why i feel so hot when you're near me? — and it's not because of the way i feel about you. "

then he gestures to his chest. verso would see nothing there other than the clothes he "wore", but instead embeds a blazing hole, mirroring an entrance to magma pools where it burns intensely as a furnace. " here. touch it. let's call this a trust bond exercise. " and whether the heat translates to a different visual of human skin, only his friend can really say it to be for sure. while confidence exudes so naturally, there's uncertainty that laces in his brow and desire for a sort of verdict, moving closer. " ... let me know what you feel. "

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wittle fact tidbits i forgot to add previously

an elder gestral, that had a better interest in creating weapons and utility for her fellow neighbors, had taken a great liking to him despite his nevron - esque appearance and fixed dante a pair of handguns, ebony and ivory. he thought of her to be very important. unfortunately, unfit and unprepared in battle she fell to a nevron when searching for materials. he separates himself from the gestral village after that.

verso can only see him in his "human" form, everyone else sees him as his 8ft nevron body (devil trigger).

he's fought his brother many times, always ending up in a tie with no real end. his goal is free him from his black and white corruption or kill him.

despite embodying a nevron, he believes he holds chroma from those affected by the gommage, which would explain the attraction of surrounding nevrons.

takes up the look of dmc1 and personality of 3; tries not to let him get attached to those who are inevitable.

verse, clair obscur: expedition 33.

a draft born and transformed into an idea of the paintress' misconstrued vision of verso's sentiments and pride. however, not without a twin composed of eerily similar strokes to counteract the paintress, including a different genre of misjudged ambitions and objectives alike, vergil. living in the body of a permanent devil trigger, he was painted to attack and kill those that made haste towards her, to aid her protection with axon strength.

since the beginning, he was slow to realize his own sense of self, like a toddler walking their first steps into adult hood, the sun shines on him anew. it's then he befriends verso after the fall of expedition 0, immediately drawn to him he helps aid future expeditions. it's a slow realization where he was doing more harm than good, attracting powerful nevrons, where he finally pulls away in hopes it'll give these expeditioners a chance; even avoiding gestrals, neglecting their generous hospitality for stimulating fights, and grandis alike. he stays in solitude, searching for the whereabouts of vergil, but becoming unsuccessful in his search until the exposure after the paintress' death.

it's unknown when, but something in his heart ached at the same time when vergil went to attack renoir that he ended up a destroyed canvas, corrupt and ominously dangerous.

once the paintress is destroyed does the gallons of blood that was poured from expeditioner deaths pooled into a flow of watercolors and something more human-like, shed from his nevron - esque appearance. he reunites with verso in hopes to destroy renoir and free his brother from the painting, even if it means undoing their inevitable end with the final tear in this canvas.