#(featuring Dante: a voice of reason)

[rosetintedgunman]

February 14th

It was a very busy evening at the Moonlight Roller. Many couples had decided to choose the venue as their date night. And why wouldn't they? Those who favoured the cheesy holiday would be rewarded with bright, heart-shaped decorations, special deals that were literally too good to be true, and plenty of activities to encourage a good night out.

Except... Wilford wasn't anywhere to be found.

That was rather unusual. After all, wasn't this a holiday that was made just for him? It seemed someone else had drawn this conclusion - the person whose home he had crashed.

Dante was not one to observe Valentine's Day, but it was one of the rare times he allowed himself to indulge in a simple pleasure from his human life and read a romance novel on the couch. Wilford was on the floor, one hand holding a joke book in the air as he debated on whether he wanted to read it.

It was... surprisingly peaceful, taking the reporter's eccentricity into account. In fact, it took some time before Dante realised something rather important:

It was a good question, and one that Wilford didn't immediately answer. Instead, he placed the book on his lap and slumped against the piece of furniture.

"I don't think I'm th' expert of love I always claim ta be." Wilford leaned his head back until it lightly pressed against the arm of the couch. "I mean... I know I cared fer Celine an' all, but that love was fake since she didn't love me back. I was just an escape."

-

Dante hummed, closing his book to give his friend attention. "This isn't like you. Normally you'd redirect your attention to your love of your friends."

"True, but I can't really have friends hangin' in a date night zone tonight, can I?"

"I doubt it would be a helpful night to find someone single."

"Nah. With how things have been fer me, it's th' best time ta find that lover, or somethin'. My days are in order, I've barely fallen into other times, an' I'm on a good no-kill streak. I'm practically safe as a baby! But...." The humour in his voice disappeared, leaving a sense of deflation behind. "It's almost as though me bein' like this makes me feel like I gotta keep an eye out an' protect th' chickies."

"The... 'chickies'?"

"Yeah! All th' younger folks goin' through th' loops!"

"I don't think you need to worry about 'age difference' between us and adults of consenting age when those of our fate are unable to feel the progression of time in the same way."

Wilford put his book down so he could roll sideways until he was kneeling against the side of the couch. "What if they think I'm old an' not hot?"

The entity quirked an eyebrow. "You sound ridiculous right now."

"What if I'm losin' my hotness radar an' I can't find anyone of my type 'cause I dunno what that is anymore??" Truly, what a rotten fate!!

Unfortunately, Dante was not the person to lament to. "You act like I know the answer to your problems."

"Yeah. Yer smart."

"But about a matter such as love? I grew up in a loveless family and died a bachelor. I'm not a fountain of knowledge."

Wilford slumped forward until his chin bumped against the couch. "Yeah, I 'spose... I'll get all that figured out in time." That appeared to be the end of it, as his eyes half-focused on one of the back cushions. "Ya think I ever found love in between then and now?"

Dante didn't know the answer. However, he had to give some sort of response.

"Romantically? I think you did. I'm sure you'll remember something about it that will help you remember your 'date skills'."

Wilford chuckled, moving his gaze to Dante. "Yer a good friend, y'know that? I'm gonna help ya find a date. Least I can do." Wilford's offer did not go down well.

"I can barely tolerate myself most days. I won't subject anyone else to do likewise."

[icycoldninja]

Can you write the DMC boys having a small crush on a fellow devil hunter of the DMC crew who dresses and fight in a similar fashion like the hunter from Bloodborne?

(Imagine having to explain to them, especially Vergil that a pizza cutter-like weapon is actually practical and not for show)

Anyways, the reader always have her mask up, and it kind of confuses them like “Never during my time with you have I seen you without your mask” and it doesn’t help when she also rarely takes off her hat as well, making them harder to map out her features

So one day, while on a mission to slay a devil, let’s say the devil’s claw barely misses her face when she duck, letting the claw tear down her mask accidentally. While she’s busy ducking, the boys are caught up in a trance like:

Only when she called them out to give her a hand, did they snapped out of their trance as they assisted her.

Finally after slaying the devil, she was busy grumbling about her torn mask and chipped hat did she get a small tap on her shoulder, stood the boys shyly (but somewhat in a smuggishly flirty tone) complimenting her looks

She looks somewhat perplexed like “You know there are scars and burn marks right?” And they’re like “Nah, you’re still one hell of a fine lady”

P/S: this is a bit of the info about the hunter if you’re interested (https://bloodborne.fandom.com/wiki/The_Hunter)

Yes, of course! Enjoy!

Sparda boys + V x The Hunter-like!Reader headcannons

¤ Dante ¤

-Dante always thought you dressed like a badass, thinking all that leather was cool as hell.

-He likes your hat, because he has a hat too, though he wished you'd unmask yourself every now and then. He wanted to see you, to see what you looked like.

-Then one day you guys were out fighting some demons, the damn things clawed at your face and ripped off your mask. Though you managed to kill them, your face was now exposed.

-Not to worry, Dante wasn't going to judge. If anything, he was amazed, unable to take his eyes off of you. It was like a baby getting to see his mother for the first time, the love and adoration he already had for you surged through the sky now that he had a face to connect to the voice.

-While you stood there, grumbling about your destroyed mask, Dante snuck up behind you, tapped you on the shoulder, and immediately began complimenting you, saying you had to be the most beautiful woman he's ever met besides his mother.

-He doesn't care if there are scars or burn marks; you're the fairest in the land in his eyes.

■ Vergil ■

-Vergil thought you dressed in the way befitting a demon hunter, not really caring whether you kept your face hidden or not.

-Couldn't understand what your giant knife thingy was for, and after a while of thinking about it, came to the conclusion that it was a massive pizza cutter. Imagine his surprise when you explained it had a practical function.

-One day, as you guys were battling a group of particularly nasty demons, your mask was ripped off.

-While you and Vergil worked to clear away the demons, the latter discovered he was having a very hard time taking his eyes off you.

-After the fight was over, and you stood panting and mumbling about where you'd find another mask, Vergil approached you, and with a slight frown, he told you he thought you were beautiful.

-It didn't matter whether you had scars or not, he thought you were the most gorgeous woman he'd ever laid eyes on.

□ Nero □

-Nero liked your fighting style and your clothes, thinking you were pretty badass for dressing like that.

-He was honestly thinking about dressing up like you, but didn't want to copy your style.

-He knows there's a reason for you to keep that mask on, but when he tried asking you about it, you ended up having a back and forth (kinda like Ghost & Soap if u know who those are) that didn't end all that well.

-When you were fighting demons together, Nero was shocked to see a demon run up and rip your mask off, though it was a good thing that it only got your mask and not your face.

-Nero was absolutely frozen in shock as he stared at you, all awareness of the world around him disappearing for a few short minutes.

-When the fight was over, Nero walked up and somewhat shyly confessed that he found you extraordinarily beautiful, scars, burns, and all.

● V ●

-V always thought you were enchanting, from the way you moved to the way you spoke.

-He couldn't care less whether you showed your face to him; to each their own.

-V was fascinated with your weird pizza cutter weapon, and loved to watch you use it.

-When you were out fighting the demon and got your mask torn off, V was mesmerized. Your beauty was unlike anything he'd ever seen, unique and dazzling all at the same time.

-Had Griffon and Shadow not yanked him out of the way in time, he might have died.

-Once the fighting was over, V approached you and gently tapped you on the shoulder, expressing how lovely he thought you were, despite anything you might feel insecure about.

[dostoyevsky-official]

I’m about to tell you the craziest love story in literary history. And before you ransack the canon for a glamorous rebuttal, I must warn you: Its preeminence is conclusive. Dante and Beatrice, Scott and Zelda, Véra and Vladimir. All famous cases of literary love and inspiration, sure. But these romances lack the 47-year novelistic drama of the craziest story. They lack the stolen gun, the border crossings, the violation of federal law. They lack the forged birth certificate and clandestine love letters. But above all, they lack the leading lady: the secret muse.

[...] I don’t pretend to understand women,” McCarthy told Oprah Winfrey in 2007, commenting on the lack of them in his novels—despite the fact that he was married three times. And for decades, readers took him at his word.

Upon McCarthy’s death, however, the mystery of his personal life has drawn close enough for us to unravel assumptions into their opposites: Cormac McCarthy did not shirk womenkind in his novels. On the contrary, it turns out that many of his famous leading men were inspired by a single woman, a single secret muse revealed here for the first time: a five-foot-four badass Finnish American cowgirl named Augusta Britt. A cowgirl whose reality, McCarthy confessed in his early love letters to her, he had “trouble coming to grips with.”

[...] It’s monsoon season, and lightning bobs and weaves in the corner of your eyes all day like floaters. There are three separate storms to the south, delicately wind-tilted on the horizon. Lightning races them in a stitchless thread, and to the north rain shimmers through the sheerest rainbow, stamped perfectly horizontal against the mountains like the execution line on a document.

[...] Britt says she lived a normal life until the age of 11. That year, and for reasons she never quite understood, her family moved from the snowy plains of North Dakota to the border town desert of Tucson. This is where the muse’s novelistic question mark emerges. An origin story beginning on an ellipse. Something hideous happened to her in the desert. Something traumatically violent. Something that destroyed her family.

Every time she was hit, whether by her father or a foster parent, she would disappear inside herself. It could take weeks, months to reemerge. It got to the point where if it happened again, she didn’t know if she’d ever come out. And she could no longer live like that.

“So I’ve decided I’m not going to be hit anymore,” she told McCarthy at that motel pool. Here she pauses, and you must imagine the sweetest voice you’ve ever heard—a sweetness that isn’t afraid to pull triggers first and ask questions later. “I’m just going to shoot anyone who tries.”

“ ‘Well,’ ” McCarthy said, “ ‘That would explain the gun.’ ”

“And that was so Cormac,” Britt laughs. “And I thought, Thank God this man gets it.”

Just imagine for a moment: You’re an unappreciated literary genius who has not even hit your stride before going out of print. Your novels so far have circled around dark Southern characters who do dark Southern things. You’re stalled on the draft of a fourth novel, called Suttree, which features an indeterminately young side character named Harrogate, not yet written as a runaway. You’re sitting by a pool at a cheap motel when a beautiful 16-year-old runaway sidles up to you with a stolen gun in one hand and your debut novel in the other. She reads in her closet to stay out of violence’s earshot. To survive her lonely anguish, the wound she’s been carrying since age 11, this girl has only literature to turn to: Hemingway, Faulkner, you. She flickers with comic innocence yet tragic experience beyond her years and an atavistic insistence on survival on her own terms. She has suffered more childhood violence than you can imagine, and she holds your own prose up to you for autograph, dedication, proof of provenance.

[...] After learning Britt wanted to be a nurse, McCarthy also introduced a character named Wanda to Suttree, an underage love interest Suttree meets in the month of August. Wanda reads stories about nurses and steals away to Suttree’s tent in the small hours of the night. She is also Britt’s debut death, crushed under a rockslide.

[...] Posting an essay on my favorite writer to Substack on April Fool’s Day, receiving a cryptic comment from his secret muse, and now driving with her to see her horses feels more miraculous than fate. And yet there is something so natural about spending time with Britt. There is a shimmer of recognition with her, an intimate equidistance. After all, I’ve been reading about her for half my life. And now here she is, in the flesh.

[...] The first thing you notice about her, leading Scout and Jake up a dormant streambed to their stalls, is how novelistic she is. She is a woman of compelling themes, tragic patterns, hooks, plot, question marks. She says things like “Cormac warned me I couldn’t hide forever” and “That was back when we had one eye out for the law.”

[...] That’s the muse for you, full of equine wisdom, horse sense. And while she certainly has a way with words, words also have a way with her, as McCarthy found out in 1976. As do landscapes.

[...] He was 43, she was 17. The image is startling, possibly illegal. At the very least, it raises questions about inappropriate power dynamics and the specter of premeditated grooming. But not to Britt—who had suffered unspeakable violence at the hands of many men in her young life—then or now.

[...]One measure of fame is how suddenly cognizant one becomes of the looming biographer, archivist, or graduate student peering over posterity’s shoulder at your personal correspondence. But McCarthy began writing his love letters to Britt when he was out of print, and they brim with an unusual voice—that of Cormac McCarthy in true love’s perfect candor. They’re less like sketches for a painting and more like confessionals. They are written by a man infatuate.

For the first few days of my stay in Tucson, the letters sit in the same Converse shoebox they’ve been stored in since the ’70s. I’ve been giving them a wide berth. To a McCarthy fan, they’re like the Holy Grail. It somehow doesn’t feel right reading the blue ink meant for her blue eyes. What will they be like? Joyce’s encrusted epistles to Nora? Nabokov’s letters to Véra? Or more like letters to a Lolita?

[...] We can expect a writer to be different in person than on the page, but Cormac was very different on the page to Augusta. He was clearly in love, clearly “gone on the subject” of her, from the start. He ends each letter with an “I love you” or something synonymous. (He ends the ones after their romance cooled the same way.) But what we appear to have with lines about pressing “my face between your thighs” is a writer with his nose pressed into the pure perfume between the open thighs of a book.

Then, sometime in the ’80s, McCarthy sends her the manuscript for All the Pretty Horses. “The first thing I see, obviously, is the title. And I thought, Oh my gosh. I started reading it, and it’s just so full of me, and yet isn’t me. It was so confusing. Reading about Blevins getting killed was so sad. I cried for days. And I remember thinking to myself that being such a lover of books, I was surprised it didn’t feel romantic to be written about. I felt kind of violated. All these painful experiences regurgitated and rearranged into fiction. I didn’t know how to talk to Cormac about it because Cormac was the most important person in my life. I wondered, Is that all I was to him, a trainwreck to write about?

“I was trying so hard to grow up and to fix what was broken about me. I still thought I could be fixed. And this felt the opposite of fixing me."

[pueraeternal]

"Limb Bus" Company

"I'm Serious, where is my arm!" Ryōshū stood near Heathcliff wiping the blood off her Odachi before re sheathing it. Gregor sat up from his seat, took a long drag from his cigarette, "was that necessary Ryōshū?" She looked coldy, likely thinking of a way to say this in the fewest words possible. "They look like members of the ring, pointing towards Yuri and the 5 people who just appeared on the bus, "my mistake". Gregor let out a knowing nod, as though that would explain why she cut off Heathcliff's arm and sat back down finishing his cig.

Heathcliff was obviously in shock, now on his hand and knees, mumbling "where is my ring".

"I am so confused right now" said Yuri, currently poking one of the boys who appeared out of thin air moments ago. The boy was Trey Clover. He wore a stylish white fedora, w/ a yellow and black band that had a distinct clover or club from a playing card on it. He wore glasses, had a club tattooed under his left eye. He also wore a white shirt w/ a black vest under a white jacket that sported various playing card features and white rose w/ red paint or blood on it. Trey was currently huddled in circle w/ 3 other similarly dressed boys and one in the centre wearing a checkered suit, this one was obscured enough that Yuri could not make the Gender.

Charon stepped out of her seat to survey the situation. "I knew this would happen, Dante, Faust and Vergilius step off the bus to check on Mephistopheles, all hell breaks loose. Yuri, make a note that someone in charge or at lease reasonable should be on board at all times". A resounding "hey!!" was heard from many voices further back in the bus, and one lone voice "that kinda hurts" Ryōshū made a motion to pull her blade out again, Charom quickly sat back down "vroom vroom".

Yuri, still poking Trey, "The ring?, who's ring" pointing down at Heathcliff still on the floor losing a massive amount of blood by the second. Gregor spoke up again, "oh no, not his ring, The Ring, a Syndicate of artists who exemplify human suffering in their pieces. Its their attire that likely startled Ryōshū, they wear white berets, a tattoo under the eye and avante garde clothes, just looking at those 5, there is a resemblance. She likely thought we were under attack. Unless their huddling is some sort of art statement, id say these 5 are terrified.

Yuri then asked w/ one eye open and a inquisitive gaze, "so why cut off Heathcliffs arm?" "Oh" Gregor replied, "he was just in the way, she was startled and did what she does best".

Yuri gave a confused "Yah" as though this all made sense, and it did'nt. She asked the boy she was poking if he would like some tea. Trey Fainted....well, they all fainted.

Send me a Ask if you want a part 2 !

[themaeve]

AHHHHH! Memoire 61.5 of the Case Study of Vanitas just dropped! I'm loving everything about where we are going with this dham arc!

We are finally getting more on the whole business with where dhampirs stand in this society. Feared by humans as being too close to vampires, looked down on and at one point hunted(!) by vampires. And wow are the Count's people prejudiced as fuck. The only reason Dhampirs have "the right to exist" is because they are under the eccentric Marquis Machina's protection.

Watching Johann and Riche broke my heart this chapter. The way they both reached for their glasses when it was mentioned how dhams are revealed by their eyes. Riche was visibly scared the entire time and Johann was trying his best to comfort her. It really characterizes Dante, the member of the Dham trio who doesn't wear glasses, and is also almost always the most loud and proud of the three. Dante doesn't give a single fuck to "hide" his eyes.

Bless Noe, calling bullshit on everyone with "Isn't it just less confusing to just call people by their name?" Love that man so much. Vanitas stifling his laughter at Noe's wholesome honesty. Perfect.

I also really appreciate Domi's bits this chapter. My girl thinks she is so progressive with her whole "Being prejudiced in this day and age? How unattractive." And then only minutes later getting somewhat called out by Noe for never even learning Dante's name. Domi learning that she ain't above being prejudiced and that she needs to do better. Not being outwardly hateful is the bare fucking minimum. I love that last panel of her, that mix of embarrassment, panic, and palpable shame she feels with herself. The way she got really quiet and shut down. It hurt to watch in a good way. I've been there Domi. You gotta collect yourself, learn from your mistakes, identify and overcome your personal biases. Don't fall back into more self-hatred, you can do it girl! God I love her so much.

Also, I love that last panel of pissed off Dante! Dude is so over this conversation. Staring daggers at Noe like "Is this some kind of fucking White Knight routine of yours or are you genuinely this naive and friendly?" Good sir I eagerly await your angry rant next chapter. Fucking go off my dude.

This chapter had so much emotion from everyone. Hate, anger, fear, shame, love. All of it on display. As much as I have really started to hate the "fantasy racism" cliche, I'll give this one credit for some realism in displays of prejudice and the subtle effects it has on its targets. While I don't have experience being the target of racist prejudice, I do have experience being the target of queerphobic prejudice. The dhams really hit with me, especially the lines calling them "half-formed things, neither fish nor fowl." Like, yep I'm trans and non-binary, I've heard and seen that type of shit said before.

The way Riche and Johann reached instinctively for their glasses when it was mentioned how the uncontrollable gold flashes of their eyes give them away to humans. I felt that, being "revealed" by features of your body and being instinctually self conscious about them. Trying to hide the things that "give you away". I still remember when Jeanne was trying to figure out if Johann was human or vampire, watching the anime, hearing the tired and thorny contempt in Johann's voice with the delivery of "Nope, I'm a dham." Shivers. Same fucking energy of delivering "I'm nonbinary" to random people for fuckteenth flippin time watching the fucking look in their eye change as they realize what I am. Then, Johann catches himself after saying it, realizing Jeanne didn't mean any offense, that his tone was too prickly. She just genuinely didn't know. You can feel how Johann is always on guard. Always having to be prepared for people who think he doesn't have "the right to exist." I felt that.

I'm optimistic for how the story handles this arc. I'm praying it's good and doesn't fall for the problematic elements of "fantasy racism" tropes. The way this chapter handled Domi makes me hopeful. That and anymore material we get on Dante, Johann, and Riche is a win in my book.

[eponastory]

Would be opposed to writing a one shot scenario about Evan going through even more trauma during the events of Devil May Cry 5? Such as Nero losing his arm, Vergil someone in the world of the living once more (all the events that follow) and then the climatic showdown between Father & Son?

Well, I can do something like that.

So, Evan in my HC doesn't go to Redgrave. Actually she is only 18 and the week V shows up at Devil May Cry is also the same week that she graduates from high school. I actually have a story written about that and I can post it here if you'd like. As for what happens during Redgrave, there isn't much going on for her. But, I do believe this is where she and Nero meet for the first time.

As for Nero and Vergil having a showdown... oh just wait. I'm working on a whole story for that. I'm hoping to have the first chapter published soon.

Anyway, here is pretty much what happens during Redgrave with Evan... I also figured it would be better told from V's perspective at first.

Where Did You Go?

The last time V had been to Devil May Cry, he had told Dante about Urizen the Demon King. Now, not even two weeks after, the frail man was standing just outside of the door. There was a reason he was there. That reason had been on the doorstep right as he had come out of the shop that night.

He had not expected to see her. Much less knew she existed at all. Dante had been very careful to keep her concealed all this time, but even so, she could be helpful. In some form, at least. The moment he saw her features, it became clear to V that Dante had a child. Even with his fractured memories, he never recalled the devil hunter speaking of any sort of relations.

Still, with Dante very much out of the picture and Nero the last bastion of hope, maybe the girl was a possibility too. If she was strong enough, that is. If her bond with her father was strong enough, she would not hesitate to fly into battle. That was how he saw it. The other possibility was that she was just as human as he was. Then she was no help at all.

"So why are we here, V?" Nero stood right behind the black haired man. "We both know Dante did not come out of that tree."

"There is some... delicate matters to attend to." With one motion, V lifted his cane and knocked it against the solid doors of the shop. There was a moderate chance that she was in the building waiting for her father to come back. She would be waiting for a long time. He could hear Nero scoffing behind him.

"Yeah, this is a waste of time. There is no one here, man." Not so true when the sound of the lock clicking on the door brought the young hunter to attention. "Who would be here?" When the door opened a crack, V could only see one of her pale blue eyes and a sliver of her face.

"Sorry, but we're closed." Her voice was light, but not timid. She looked at V with a little recognition in her eye. "Oh, it's you."

"Mind if we come in?" She did not answer verbally, only opened the door to reveal herself more.

"Wait... what?" V honestly expected Nero to react differently upon seeing the young girl in front of them. "Is this some sick joke?"

"I should ask you the same thing." She blurted out with just as much surprise at seeing Nero.

"Quiet." The tattooed man spoke feeling tension building between the two children. That was what they were in his eyes. "I come with news of Dante." The moment the girl heard the name, her face dropped from defensive to worried. There was even a distinct fear in her eyes that could only come for a child, fearing the worst.

"You better come in then." She opened the door wider for the two men to enter the shop. It was not so much different from the last time V had been in there, except for the apparent cleaning that had gone on. He surmised that she had taken to tidying up the place while Dante was gone. "I'd offer you guys some drinks, but I haven't gone anywhere." She put her hands in her back pockets as she stood there.

"Do not worry about that... I can see you've been keeping busy." He motioned to the state of the interior. She nodded as Nero looked around at the memorabilia plastered on the walls. "You look well, at least."

"Yeah, I guess I've been okay." She was trying hard not to jump to the questions that were undoubtedly running through her mind. "Anyway, where is my Dad? Is he okay?" V did not blame her for blurting out her concerns. After all, he knew very little about what happened to the half-devil.

"He's gone." The room stayed silent after V said the words. But the girl shook her head with a smile.

"I can promise you he isn't." She looked up at the black haired man with a fire in her eyes. It reminded him of something from the past that was not his own. "I know my Dad, he is not easy to kill." While he admired her faith in her father, he simply could not let her keep false hope. Urizen was more powerful than he had realized.

"He didn't come out of the tree with us." Nero walked over to the girl. V had been trying to place the relation between the two, only coming up with the possibility that Dante had been carnal in his youth. There was another possibility, but that was not likely. "Neither did his friends."

"So you just left them there?" There was clear anger in her voice as she pulled her hands out of her pockets and balled her fists. "Are you serious? My whole family, everyone that I ever cared about, went to Redgrave and they didn't return?" V watched as Nero softened his features, running his only hand through his hair in shame. Her eyes flicked to his missing arm. "What happened?"

"The demon... Urizen." Perhaps it was best to let the two talk without him interfering any longer.

"I'll leave you two for now... it's best if Nero explains everything." V said gave a small bow of respect to the girl before making his way to the door. As soon as he was gone, Nero was left with this girl who was just as alone as he was.

"So, what's your name?" This got a reaction from her other than sadness and regret. He clicked his tongue when she did not answer. "I'm Nero."

"Evan." She said quietly. "My Dad told me about you, I just forgot you existed, I guess."

"Oh yeah? Nothing bad, I hope?" The awkwardness between them was only made that way because they knew nothing of each other. Nero had no idea that Dante even had a kid, much less told him about her. Evan definitely had the same feel about her that Dante had. "Anyway, I uh... I... I'm sorry."

"It's okay, but I know he's alive." She moved to the red couch and sat down, putting her face in her hands. "He said he was going take care of something that should've been taken care of a long time ago. I don't really understand any of it because he was always trying to protect me."

"I can see why." Nero envied her. She had a living parent that was there for her throughout her life. It was another reason for him to resent the man. Dante had left his daughter behind to deal with the mess in Redgrave. "I don't know what V is up to by coming here, but don't go to Redgrave. Stay as far away from there as possible." Evan nodded, but he could see that she was thinking over every scenario that could bring her father back home.

"He told me you were a good person. That if anything happened to him, you would look after me." Well, he was not so sure of that. He felt like he had been volunteered into helping this... well she was essentially a teenager. Nero also felt that she had been through some stuff too.

"If it makes you feel any better, I'll make sure he gets home." That was the only thing he could offer her at this point. She was just another lonely kid like him.

Evan on the other hand, knew there was more to Nero than her father had let on. Now was not really the time to be doing genetic calculations on who Nero belonged to. It was very obvious to her that the man standing in the shop before her was her cousin. She was not going to say anything about it until he did.

When Nero left, Evan was alone again for close to a month. She went to work three days a week, but most of the time she stayed in her room at Devil May Cry waiting for any word from Nero. He called nearly every day to make sure she was okay, nothing more than that.

It was the nightmares that had been bothering her. The visions of her time in the forest after her mother died had come back, only this time, she was searching for Dante. He was lost out there in the snowy forest at the base of the mountain.

She called out for him over and over, sometimes hearing the howls from the demons that killed her mother. There was no sign of him. Nothing that could tell her Dante was out there waiting for her or that he was even alive. No red coat, no sword, nothing.

It was not until Nero returned that she knew something was not right.

"He's alive, but he's in the Underworld with Vergil." Evan looked down at her cousin's now fully fleshed arm. She looked up at him in confusion. "Oh, yeah... this sort of happened."

"I have so many questions." She said flatly as Nero held up his arm with a smirk. "So, catch me up."

[ggtess]

I’ve been a fan of Hozier since I heard his song take me to church. Its intense religious scrutiny tied with its beautiful queer allusions roped me in instantly. It didn’t take me long to discover how talented this artist was, and how deep of an impact his music would have on me. He’s been a favorite ever since.

Following a steady increase of my love for Hozier, was a fast and intense love for the Inferno of Dante, a book that I was originally begrudgingly forced to read. I had already watched a youtube series on the comedia and figured that’s all I would really need from this story (sooo fucking embarrassing). But, as we delved deeper into the inferno and all the rich history associated with it, my english-subject-loving-brain was absolutely enamored. There was so much to digest and speculate and criticize and praise. I was in Heaven (haha).

Now obviously some months have passed since the release of this album, but I only recently discovered that Unreal Unearth featured the marriage of these two beloved interests of mine.

With all that being said, here’s are my incredibly belated, partially sincere and partially bullshit thoughts on Hozier’s Unreal Unearth:

De Shelby pt 1- (7/10) gorgeous guitar brought to us by a gorgeous Irish man. Desolate, chilling, sullen.

De Shelby pt 2- (7/10) absolutely insane transition. This bass is so catchy and rhythmic, really fun. I assume this is representative of the harsh descent into hell, running/hiding from the atonement of sins: throwing yourself into what is ungodly to avoid isolation.

First time- (8/10) this just sounds so fucking good, “some part of me must have died the first time that you called me ‘baby’ and some part of me came alive the first time that you called me ‘baby’” is so stark and relatable. God that is an absolutely devastating way to look at bouquets. A quick ode to the lost “remembering again/ the full extent of what forever is” because fuck. This is confusing and heart wrenching, a lover mourning his lost love and worshiping them all the same because they’re all he has in this eternity, this limbo leaves him lost and all he sees and all he knows is death, even through the kind gestures of flowers on his grave, desperate and lost

Francesca- (9/10) The first direct reference to the inferno via the storms of lust in the first circle. Listening has me confusing lust with love- is lust just an extension of love ?? Because this is a damn love song. “Heaven is not fit to house a love like you and I” oh my fucking god yeah this is the favorite. Does Hozier know that he’s a lesbian or should I tell him

I, Carrion- (8/10) so, so beautiful. Consumed in consumption itself, prioritizing pleasure over what is right and moral. So many references in this one- the turtles holding up the world, Icarus flying and falling, atlas carrying the weightless feeling he is experiencing.

Eat your young- (8/10) this song is popular for a reason. Obviously representing gluttony, the lyrics are so disgusting and immoral, hungry for more wealth, more gain, more, more. Criticism to world leaders, criticism to capitalism, criticism to consumerism, criticism to those who take and take. “Eat your young” stealing the future of your youth, decimating the climate, sending your children to war, sending your children to sweep chimneys, all exploitation, all eating your young. Also head ???

Damage gets done- (7/10) everyone move this song is so upbeat I need to fucking dance. Brandi has a really powerful voice that complements hozier’s so well. For something being representative of greed, this song is pretty damn grateful, at least on my first impression. In a pessimistic perspective, it could be the oblivion of the youth to their damage on the earth. Just by existing in the world we live in we leave an irreversible mark on our climate, our environment, our wildlife, etc. Unknowingly, we’re greedy to want to thrive in our world in any capacity but specifically financially. Maybe the best of us are our youth that don’t want for more than they have. This song contrasts the previous one HARSHLY.

Who we are- (6/10) this song is a headache. Juxtaposing the deeply frustrating lyrics of navigating the dark, burning out, chasing mindlessly and the loud singing filled with a sense of catharsis and relief is sooo mind boggling. So much uncertainty and passion.

Son of Nyx- (7/10) god I love a transition track. So dejected and beautiful at the same time. These themes of loss are just constant throughout the album. Someone tell me how Hozier did all this world building without any words? I would have genuinely guessed that the river Styx is what’s being represented by this instrumental, he captured it exactly how I imagined.

All things end- (6/10) This is definitely akin to gospel music. Hozier’s influence from black artists is rich in this song, really fun listen. Also deeply ironic to use this style of music to write a song about heresy. Reminds me of his iconic take me to church.

Continued in next post ! :-)

[truepcwer]

devil in the garden | plotted starter

It wasn't often that Vergil actually took time on the weekends to himself. With business meetings, paperwork, hounding on his brother to keep his shops lights on; Vergil had a habit of treading through the work week on autopilot. The CEO ran his many businesses with an iron fist and half of the time he didn't trust anyone to not fuck up any of his work.

Not that long ago, his father Sparda had handed down the mantel of Celestial Dynamics to take care and run since he was the most responsible out of himself and his twin brother, Dante. Even though Vergil never displayed or shown nervousness, it towered over him like a shadow ready to smother him at any point. It was part of the reason why he was so judgmental about every action that was made within his grasp. From having the best cooks and staff for restaurants , to the finest fashion and designers to the various clothing brands that represented the company. Vergil had to make sure everything was up to standard, if not surpassing it.

However, it was the weekend, and for once, Vergil found himself wandered the city that admired from the highest floor of his office. Looking out into a concrete jungle was a different experience compared to actually walking in it. Even though, he had received different glances and even had photos snapped of him as he walked through the streets he found it peacefully nonetheless.

Dressed in more business casual appearance, he wore dark washed jeans, a navy blue button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up exposing his pale complexion, in addition to black loafers. Taking a tip from Dante, he wore black sunglasses that stood out against his white hair that was slicked back in his usual style. Unlike his brother, Vergil liked to keep a very, clean appearance. Regardless if he was conducting business or simply just enjoying a weekend.

As the half devil walked the streets, a familiar scent came across his path. Oddly enough, it reminded him of the garden that his family once had before they came up in money and relocated for the business advantages. Memories of playing in the fields with his brother before they would play fight to assert dominance over each other, the sounds of his mothers voice lingering in the air when she would tell them to stop. The feeling on the sun rays on his skin despite never getting a tan no matter how many hours in the day they spent. A soft smile graced his features as he followed the scent like a bloodhound. It only took him a couple of steps before he found himself in front of a shop door.

Taking a moment, he felt as if he opened this door the course of his life would altered. As if once he passed the threshold, everything he knew would be thrown for a loop. Are you sure? A voice in his mind whispered as he gripped the handle of the door like his life depending on it. Whatever the concern was, he pushed it to the side and opened the door, hearing the sound of the bell ring. Clearly that would indicate to the owner that he had entered. As he looked around, he found himself in a beautiful store surrounded by different floral arrangements, a feeling of peace washed over him until something...no, someone caught his attention. It was a woman, a very beautiful woman.

Carefully and slowly, Vergil removed his sunglasses as he studied her. She was small but she wasn't without curves and lushes locks that complimented her features. The way she stood among the flowers it was like he was Hades himself gazing upon Persephone for the first time. There was a feeling in his stomach that he never felt before. Maybe he ate something bad for lunch? No that couldn't be it, felt different than that, perhaps he'd give a call to the family physician just to double check he was coming down with something. It took him a moment to find his words as he gripped the side of his sunglasses before finally folding them in and slipping them in his jean pocket. How long has been standing in the door way? Finally coming to, he took a small step out of the way and cleared his throat, hoping it would be loud enough to get the woman's attention. Finally finding his words, he parted them to speak. " Hello. "

plotted starter / plotted romantic dynamic between Vergil & Cyndi Rodriquez of @indigodreames

[blackbutlerfandomnerddomain]

May I please ask for headcanons on they the other version of the recruits react to mine?

Of course boo! I feel like a kid swapping baseball cards with a neighborhood kid

How they met was a random visit in the city by the gang, mostly for the siblings to find a place to perform and Jane Vera and Dante just followed to hang out, the same time when the friend group were in the city for college lessons and personal reasons

It gave them a heart attack by accident with this:

Joe sits at a small table with a drink as he relaxes for a bit and Jac walks over mostly covered in his red jacket with the hood up cause it's cold so Joe didn't notice right away, and Jac starts ranting about the cold and soon brings up a "hot babe" from a bar visit he went to and asked if wants details.

Joe goes pales and nervously and slowly getting angry ask "But what about Roxy?" In which Jac, assuming it's his best bud and referring to a chick previous said, "what about her?"

Luckily before Joe could sock this guy a new one Sia walks over with two cups of coffee and sat in front of them and starts complaining about a phone call with her boss' assistance (this world of Pan and Panic) who lost an important file

Jac and Sia talk back and forth and Joe slowly begins to question reality when Jac tries to convince Sia to go clubbing with her the weekend and how she needs to find a nice guy

Somewhere else in the building Jack is checking the sound when Joseph randomly sat beside him and said "Okay, so there's this cult documentary I watched last night right?" and just goes off on the documentary he was watching and complaining about his step-mom which is a normal vent which was a huge load of "whoa" on Jack

Then how it all tied together

Ivan was walking around and stopped by the vending machines and heard a voice a lot like Aya, now homeboy been crushing on her for a long time and been holding off letting those feelings known. So what he do? He goes over and starts talking until Zuri turns around and the two just stare at each other like "wtf"

Then Cece comes in while Sha comes in the same time and everyone's like "wait, wtf-"

So after gathering everyone introductions were made with Jack trying to be extra sure they were real and not magical beings like the recruiters, best not open that can of worms of the Disney Villain Recruiters just yet boo

Apologizes were made after everything

Wilhelm was mainly staring at Vince in per astonishment. He had similar features of his face but was obviously proud of his looks and not hiding him unlike himself, he was open with emotions when he wasn't, and not to mention Vince has a girlfriend when he barely dated. The two soon do bond over childhood stuff and books with Vince comfortable enough to show the guy a picture of Stephanie

Wilhelm scrunch his face u and said "Sorry. She just looks like Margaret" "Is she nice?" "She's a girl who lives in my building. We don't get along" Vince was just happy he hasn't met Apple Poison yet

Joseph was kind of taken aback at Joe in a way since he, like Vince, is open and not hiding like he is. The bond over the ocean and talk about Misty and Arielle together when they're away from others

Sia's first thought of Cece was she reminded her of her past self a bit. The two talk and as Sia soon mentioned her work and how she got a fancy ass home (she showed pictures) she was surprised to hear Cece offer to ruin her family's life with ease and bring even more damage to her ex-fiance. She simply grinned as they realized they're more similar than they seem and everyone can simply shutter in the idea of these two working together with Sia being Cece's main alibi if needed

Charles was amazed by Malachite. Like he has a band??? They talk about their life styles and Charles did his hardest to try and not tell Malachite his past but when it did he used way more physical power to make sure he won't go rampage

Aya adores Zuri to bits. Like tons of compliments and giggles. Like best friends imminently attached. Those two swap contacts with each other within the first 20 minutes of their talk. She just finds her so pretty and so happy she has a great life

Sha couldn't stop but find Nadia so pretty and so impressed by her boldness "So your dad lets your party?" "Uh, by dad you mean mom yeah." The two chat about being the younger ones of their groups and favorite activities and hobbies with Sha seeing more and more of the confidence she needs to grow through Nadia. Probably won't sleep with people much as she shows off the purity ring she had since she was 7 though she admitted to have dated and kissed before

Jac totally digs this Jack guy! They seemingly have a lot in common and Jack even got promises to have discounts at the diner he works at with Maria. There was a lot of apologies with Jac saying sorry about Jack maybe nearly kicking his ass kicked but assumption he's cheating on his girl

Janice was pretty much "wanna hang out?" with Jane and they two had a lot of deep nice conversations about life and their dads which Janice can't help but smiling hearing how nice her family sounds and how she luckily didn't have her childhood

Maria was more or less confused of Vera. Yes they had things in common, but she was... open of her feelings and her likes. There was no issue if she listens to rock music? She's open she's gay?? It honestly scared the poor girl more with the idea someone like her was worried all this time when it' isn't a big deal

Ivan fucking LOVES Dante man! They both talk about fashions, their moms, certain cute brown hair childhood besties in their lives

[libidomechanica]

Which, by that ruled Albions kingdoms three

Tempt to repeat, the very trees.     The sacrifice to its head grew a fire beneath and now     the music of them both in aiding her most pamper’d with     me, I calmly beg. Since it is the firths of the window     and the template and sleep

in the hill I saw thee, the map     already spread with Nature thee, stellas fair on the white     mule she rode and all along they came the dorm. Oh, you call     my dress. I do not much more abstruse ecstasy complete     perfect, nay, but the wide

doors for some conceive. It seems, as     lightly let me feel this at all the party’s fire with such     liars, and thee, stella, say, for grammer-rules, O now your     voice threading cloud I followed dost thyself of the hinges,     the power with a

peculiar Eye—and little house;     everything but the common bed were link’d among your fair subject,     blessing wings, the ever- silent all? And turn that Dante’s     Beatrice, and a dastard in long embrace, our parting     gust and pale with her hame.

Adieu delight that do such     entertaining looks, blazing underneath it is nothing: only,     if a husband fro, ever a word, but he were reason     of his abode, a love or awe, the shape of dazzling     hue, vermilion-spotted,

golden hair, wi’ a clear pool, where     a garden wears; dropt in heart no less. Rid my pains? And clos’d     for her nimble feet leave traces in their maisters story,     which we Cantabs pleasantly by playing on her father’s     dead, still in the Three per

Cents; whose chin was, in fact the     quaystones with the gude stout aik, they’ll have happened that everything     this is why I sojourn here alone or I die!     Rapidly riding at the fine cages for truth arrived between     us. So was the

presence! And gravity, scientists     say, is that what cannot bring water drink, loue then in     his Waggon, ’ could he not so; to have often lived a life     of joy. Thee, Cynara! We are genuine, I think thee     cumber: what new to greet

my friend at the waved to a spectral     bride; for into a tomb, and so he burn’d; then in my     face, which through-in my brow; for why sae sweet self resemble     the main, all my ghost or by a flame grown one of my sportive     blood? Like that. From yearlong

poring on the less my sin.     Into my foot, they’llnever flatterer stopped noticing     until we’re all shoulder, with me, as the softness of our     tender palm dissolve is this mother dearth, painting might for     love the tree, the door! ’ The

hunter tell; tis beautiful, and     I’ll give to heare, rude ditties tund to shore, the softness of     our hostess and in wild delirium, gripe it half starved     babe, a wreck in my corset- lacing. Prints his own, and smil’d     at the wound, and slip into

my gate and whole; nor Arac,     satiate with the jazzing music unto none alive. But     glorifies his patience, and sea; how long have you found? Were     fix’d, as it may seem resentfully to the most troubles     that climax of all suffering

bee, and a few graveyard crosses     here, observe what else could bribe. This we were, since your waken’d     hate; since burning under a wide hat, dancer, singer,     a laugh, never again with her eyes: what can ail thee, wherein     were not the features

we desire increase, that had     been the eye hath all were less brown. It is a handsome wee     thing, she is made thy breast breeding, whilst I stay here, for Love     is burial come. She is man’s: they were painted on the     truth suppressed in mounds of

dying; to find how heauinesse in     both displeasure lost for want of our child crying outside     silk and outside lawn; scenes sublime the lady and scaur;     they’llnever find than infants increse within; for he came from     the shovel down until

Max’s hind legs stop twitching grabs me     by degree that brave Lochinvar. Or I shall leap, and she     let herself should appears my days a lovely her failings,     and beneath you might be taken. If I the dead blacks, and     unnamed boy on the whole

strife, painful jealousies of the     helpless! Is frowned were at peace. The soldier, his eyes he bent,     which he had led days happy’as I can find but a     possibilities I love you and think in stumbling lyre already     got, deere killer, spare

Arm-chair which writers use of pillows     its soul, a light; tis but to discoverers to their     becoming:—middle jimp wi’ a languish’d for aye, the maidens     came, as those faire ladies who, by one desire; for     dear to me, how she me

caught in the way thing, all; but gazing     down below, then. Our ease, yet but they were his eyes, and     Musgraves, their wealthy festivity, through and then? For     I never noticed whate’er the supremest kisses,     They came to qualify.

[ainews]

In the 1450s, it seemed as though the entire world was abuzz with poetry. Poets such as Geoffrey Chaucer, Dante Alighieri, and Petrarch had gained widespread popularity and were celebrated for their lyrical works. However, one group in particular seemed to have an unmatched enthusiasm for this literary form – the swallows.

Swallows, a migratory bird species found all over Europe, were known for their graceful flight and beautiful songs. However, during the 1450s, they seemed to take a special interest in poetry. People in villages and towns across Europe reported that flocks of swallows would gather around poets, eagerly listening to their recitations and songs.

The reason for this sudden fascination with poetry can be attributed to the atmosphere of the time. The 1450s marked the beginning of the Renaissance, a period of great cultural and artistic revival. Poets were highly regarded, and their works were considered a window into the human soul. As such, society was captivated by their poetic expressions of love, life, and the complexities of the human experience.

Swallows, being birds known for their keen senses and social behavior, were naturally drawn to this cultural phenomenon. They were mesmerized by the beauty and rhythm of the poems, and their melodious voices blended seamlessly with the poets' words. It was as if the swallows were singing along, adding an extra layer of enchantment to the already mesmerizing performances.

Moreover, the 1450s also saw an increase in the popularity of traditional troubadour songs, which often featured themes of courtly love and chivalry. These songs, with their intricate melodies and poignant lyrics, were a perfect match for the swallows' poetic inclinations. It is said that these birds, known for their loyalty and monogamous partnerships, were particularly drawn to the concept of courtly love in these songs.

The swallows' enthusiasm for poetry was not limited to just listening. They would often join in the performances, flying and swooping around the poets and their audiences. It was a breathtaking sight to behold and added an extra layer of magic to the already enchanted world of poetry.

The overenthusiasm of swallows for poetry continued throughout the decade, and it became a popular spectacle in cities and towns. People would eagerly await the arrival of the swallows, knowing that they would bring with them a sense of wonder and enchantment.

In conclusion, the 1450s were a time of cultural and artistic revival, and the swallows' fascination with poetry was a clear reflection of the era's atmosphere. Their overenthusiasm added an extra layer of charm to the already mesmerizing world of poetry. Even today, the image of swallows listening to poets remains a reminder of the power of art and the timeless connection between humans and nature.

[sentofight]

♡ (Lyn @ Markus) ( Amon @ Luci ) (Basilio @ Feiruz) (Yeong & Dante)

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●● | ATTRACTION ●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●● | AFFECTION ●●●●● ●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●| INTEREST ●●●●● ●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●| LOYALTY ●●●●● ●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●| TRUST

"Heh, oh really? You're really asking me about these even though we are married? Don't be silly, love." and he gets a kiss. "Didn't think you second guess my love for you~" oh, she is going to tease him for this. Prepare yourself, Markus. The plains lady will have to up her game if her dearest husband starts to question things. Will see~

●●●●● | ATTRACTION ●●●●● | AFFECTION ●●●●● | INTEREST ●●●●● | LOYALTY ●●●●● | TRUST

"I am surprised. Actually, this is quite like you--straightforward." her blush was evident on her sincere emotion towards the emperor. "W-well, are you... surprised by my answers? C-come on, don't tease me about it. You know I will not like about anything, let alone my feelings." and he gets a kiss on his cheek. "You are such a tease... I love you."

●●●●● | ATTRACTION ●●●●● | AFFECTION ●●●●● | INTEREST ●●●●● | LOYALTY ●●●●● | TRUST

"My lord!" a mirthful giggle laces her words. "Basil is the reason why I get to have a wonderful life filled with love and care! I love, love, love, love, LOOOOOOOOVE BASIL!" for a timid girl, her love for her husband is unparalleled and she will fight her shyness to say it out loud!

modern

●●●●○ | ATTRACTION ●●○○○ | AFFECTION ●●●○○ | INTEREST ●○○○○ | LOYALTY ●○○○○ | TRUST

"Yeaaaah. He's got a way to go, that handsome face. It isn't the girl's job to woo the guy, right?" said the girl who was up his face the last time they were in a party. Well, ...fighting. "H-He wouldn't know I said he is handsome, right? God, he will have that idiotic look on this face." long huff. "He's only redeeming feature is his guitar skills ....hmph...!"

DMC verse

●●●●● | ATTRACTION ●●●○○ | AFFECTION ●●●●○ | INTEREST ●●●○○ | LOYALTY ●●●●○ | TRUST

" . . . H-huh? Uh, w-well. He's ... He's--" wild gesturing with her hands. "Like the best hunter! Wouldn't you admire him, too??" pushing back her hair behind her ears, "Any girl would...fall....." her voice trailed off to a complete silence. No peep will come out. She will just stay silent and contemplate her life choices.

Send ♡ to see what my muse thinks of yours | accepting | @rcdhotnight

[myriamas]

who: @ofgoldengrove when and where: prior to the situation regarding lady mayya allyrion and the belarys family, but following the conversation between cedric tyrell, baashir dayne and dante uller in which the reach made it clear they sought to destabilise the summer isle economy - including trade with dorne.

the sounds of celebration within kings landing's feast hall wasn't enough to muffle the atmosphere of tension there was between various courtiers and various factions; the conversation with the reach king and the first and second minister of dorne had left a certain taste in the back of her throat, one that was not the bitterness of the red wine she seemed to be in the process of replacing her blood-flow with. her lips remained tainted with intoxication, and it came in the ways her laughter carried over the hall: the period of mourning was over, and the white silks had slipped from her body to be replaced with her usual bright colours.

her gaze had briefly met with the dragon queen following their interaction within the art gallery, where her casual nature had been the reason for a woman momentarily feeling lesser than the other before the eyes of the world - and as much as she did not believe that was her issue, she still felt a pang of awkward guilt each time she came across her.

in the end, both had been given respite from the interaction by myriam feigning dizziness, and there had been space between them. the issue of the reach thorns remained a forefront problem in her mind; she cursed how sly and cunning they were, and the power they withheld right on their doorstep - the might of the redwyne fleet was no joke, and then to add the blackbar one into account too, the scales became worrying. it was less about breaking ties with the summer isles, who had remained a steady trade importer to dorne for years now, but rather dealing with reach folk who believed themselves untouchable. the region of the marches was able to be cultivated for growth, due to the change in soil type - or at least, that was what she had been told.

there were two regions of marches she could focus on; and the one with the dragons will always be the most questionable. she continued to hold her goblet to her lips as her mandarine skirts glittered in the candlelight, winding her way around the dance floor to try and depart it - she hoisted her skirts slightly, to ensure she did not or others did not walk upon them. and when she turned in her direction and bumped into another, the wine splattered all before their torso. she made no reaction but that to kiss her teeth, before looking up, wondering who had managed to walk right into her - only to look upon a certain individual once again.

mathis rowan, though this time dry, rather than in the bathhouse. she had heard rumours that he had never really died at all, and had managed to return back to the court he had served - no doubt it was for him the summer isles now became a close target of the reach council's animosity. she merely looked at him, then looked down at the red wine which stained his shirt, before looking back up at him - a part of her wanted to merely walk away in that moment. "i heard you were alive again." she spoke, her voice slightly slurred in the way it always was when she was drunk; and yet, there was a slight smile on her features. myriam allyrion glowed when she was drunk, like a candle. until she did not.

the smile faltered slightly now. he had been one of many to give her the attention she craved during another time, that felt like a lifetime ago now. craved, was the word specifically; for she did not want the attention of her husband as much as he had tried to pressure her for another heir, her closeness with her family had distanced as a result of the tryst with the velaryon bastard, and the chapter of the sword of the morning had come to a close. as much as it pained them both to finally turn the page over, to close the book - they had been wrong. she looked upon him again, clearly looking as though she were thinking. "sorry." she added, almost as an afterthought for what was on his shirt.

she wanted to ask him what in seven hells did his people think they were doing, threatening to sail into dornish waters? would he defend them? surely he would, considering his association. but how would mathis rowan defend it? was it even his issue? "will i see you in my seas should i refuse to cut ties with the summer isles?" she asked, her question blunt as she took another long drought of the wine glass.

[graftisms]

DANTE & EVIE — DAY FORTY

location :   party boat / lower deck 

featuring :   @inquixotic​

DANTE

dante sees evie come down from the upperdeck and moves towards her before he can think twice about it. by now he's come down from the high of kissing charlene and is beginning to see more clearly, realizing his mistake with not speaking to evie first. maybe it should wait until tomorrow, but he doesn't want her to find out without him saying something first (clown emoji). "evie," he greets, coming over to her side. warning bells go off in his head when he can already see she's been crying. uh oh. "are you okay, bella?" concern wracks his tone.     

EVIE

coming off her talk with charlene that i don't know how it ends yet, she's still clearly emotional and the tears haven't slowed at all. and, of course, the last person she wants to see is the one who's there, calling her stupid names in italian, like he didn't just ruin the only good thing she thought she could have in here. "don't fucking call me that." she recoils away from him, the concern in his voice, her hands going up with the anger burning hotter at the sight of him. "just don't."

DANTE

it doesn't take a genius to see that evie knows, but that doesn't stop the hurt that flashes in his eyes. "you talked to charlene." not really a question, but dante feels the air sucking out of his lungs. he tries to steady it with a deep breath. "can we talk, please?" he doesn't see why they can't still be friends.

EVIE

she shoves past him to move towards one of the seats, the bar, anywhere where she doesn't have to look at him. "no, we can't fucking talk. you didn't want to talk before you kissed her." he was the one person she trusted with how much she liked charlene other than eden, and he's the reason she's in this position to begin with.

DANTE

"it wasn't going to happen!" he tries to reason with her, following her anyway. "i did not think it would. i didn't want it to until..." he hesitates, not even sure how he can finish it. "i'm sorry, i wanted to talk to you first. it doesn't have to change anything." he genuinely believes it too.

EVIE

she laughs, hurt bleeding through it. he’s saying all this like she hasn’t just lost full trust in him. “you knew how much i like her.” she spins to shove a finger into his chest, stopping suddenly. “you knew and you still did it. the only thing that’s changed is i know you’re not my fucking friend now.”

DANTE

"i know," his voice is small, because it's not like it's untrue. it's not like he hadn't thought about it, either, even if it was only for a moment. "but... i like her too." his confession is equally as quiet, the first time he's really saying it aloud. "that's... that's okay. we don't have to be friends," he swallows thickly, because that's absolutely not what he wants, but dante has never been the type to beg for friendship. "but i don't want to get between you and charlene, evie. you two can still be together."

EVIE

"i don't care." it's not as simple as she makes it seem, though. before now, she would've sworn she wanted dante to be happy, and even still it brings a pang of regret in her, even with how angry she is at him. "if you cared about me at all, you wouldn't have done it. friends don't do that." it's not that simple either, not so black and white, but she can't help it with how angry she is. "you already have, dante." her voice raises, staring at him with incredulity. "you're not fuckin' naive."

DANTE

it's being called naive that makes him flinch, lips rolling to press tightly together. it doesn't seem like there's any getting through to evie, not when she's this angry; the only saving grace is maybe tomorrow things will be less crazy. she'll be able to listen to him. "okay," he says quietly, taking a step back. "i will not bother you. i'm very sorry for hurting you, evie. and for being a bad friend. i... i hope you can forgive charlene. i still think you two should get to know each other."

EVIE

"you're not a bad friend. you're not my friend." she says simply, pausing to turn to look at him, venom dripping from her words. "i hope you're fuckin' miserable. i hope this ruins any fucking chance you had with any of these people. and i'm fucking glad i'll never see you again." and then she continues on her journey to find a producer.

[eclvpses]

In his past, Leo had his fair share of exes. He wasn’t under any guise that he was a good one himself - he’d put people through the ringer and in return, he’d been called every name under the sun, slapped, spat on (in the preferable and less than preferable way). Generally, such a display would only warrant a bewildered laugh. Even if he rationalised that he deserved it, Leo would never understand a person becoming so attached to someone else that it would garner a relationship of proper commitment and devotion to come from it. He didn’t care if that meant he was bad mouthed, all but slandered and pushed around because of it. But when it came to his friends, for some reason, he took it so personally he felt rather offended.

Though they were an expert at burying anything they didn’t want to touch under the sand, Leo still had an emotional intelligence to him that he never really doted on. It was a natural part of him, even if he didn’t acknowledge it, but it meant that he was incredibly attuned to just how desperate Dante and Sawyer were to be in each other's lives again. It was more mind boggling that they didn’t simply get over themselves and go back to the way things were. Leo heard Dante’s reasoning go in one ear and out the other, brows furrowing in confusion as a sneer appeared on his features at the same time. “That’s stupid.” He said astutely. If Leo didn’t understand something - and that happened often - it was merely deemed as stupid. It was how he was raised after all. His dad’s voice grumbled in his head in aggravated Dutch as if on cue; Leo doesn’t understand something? Of course he doesn’t, he’s stupid.

Resting his elbow on the seal of the passenger window, Leo dropped his chin to the palm of his hand, staring up at Sawyer’s lit window in synchronization with Dante. “I think missing someone when they’re still right there is about the most moronic thing you can do. Also? It’s a total fuckin’ mood killer. Have you even bothered to ask how your star show pony feels, Dante? Bad. And overtaxed! I deserve an overtime check! Except no one’s even paying me. I’m being milked like a cow on my own dime!” By the end of his rant, Leo was starting to grin - he’d never done well with holding grudges, got over things so easily it was cause for concern. He’d once let someone he was dating back into his house a week after she’d stolen his laptop because she’d waxed poetic about how grateful she was over the new purse she was able to get thanks to her own criminal act. 

“You wanna stay for another hour?!” Leo sputtered, finally turning to Dante with a put out grimace on his face. The second they flashed the look at him, it was wiped - as well as every thought that filtered through their brain. Leo loved that they could expect the unexpected when it came to Dante, but their rather impulsive kiss even took Leo by surprise. They weren’t brilliant by any stretch of the imagination, but they knew when they were being used - you would never hear them protest over it. Please, use me! Give me a purpose and touch me! Here I am! It might as well have been branded on Leo’s forehead, chasing after Dante’s mouth before letting out a despondent huff at the sudden space between them again.

For all his complaining about the day he had - which he would never actually complain about - Leo could already feel his stomach swoop and stir pleasantly, worked up all over again with nothing more than the press of lips due to a lack of judgement. Unless it was a calculated move on Dante’s part, Leo couldn’t care less. They didn’t have the brainpower to think of a response before already swooping back towards Dante, attempting to kiss him properly, already deciding it was a brilliant idea to crawl over into his seat. But despite the fact that the height difference between them was a subtle two inches, Leo suddenly felt like he was a hulking 8 feet tall, gangly legs having a hard time finding purchase in the rather cramped space of the nicest car he’d possibly ever been in. 

“Ow!” He harped, smashing the top of his head on the roof, used to it usually being down. With an annoyed scoff, Leo suddenly bent fully over, knees on his own seat and hands splayed across Dante’s lap for leverage so they could duck down and check under the other’s own seat for a way to move it back. If anyone looked inside the convertible at that moment, they’d expect to see a completely different sight. “Fuck your fancy fucking car! What do you gotta do to move shit around in here, holy fuck.” In the least sexy display possible, Leo clambered back until he was sat properly once more, breathing heavily in his efforts. “Move your seat back or get over here before I get myself killed.”

He could tell almost instantly that his attempt at evading any talk of Sawyer was thrown out the door. Dante wasn’t stupid enough to believe Leo would glide over him sitting outside of the apartment, but did hope that he at least would entertain him for just a little bit. He laughed at the response he got, then nodded giving up by simply throwing up his hands. “You caught me, alright?” he said, completely ignoring the questions being launched his way. If only he knew. Instead, Dante waited for the other to get into the vehicle before uttering another word.  If there was something Dante wasn't, it was sex deprived. He’s never had problems getting his good rounds in whenever he pleased. From one warm bed to the next, he truly could not be better in that department. Leo knew that as well as any. However, there was an underlying depravity to his current state, and that was missing the bed of his favorite girl. Meanwhile the other male seemed to effortlessly pick up where Dante couldn’t go. “I was just making sure she got home safe.” he went with, clearly a little embarrassed about being caught. “I can’t talk to her just yet.”  The problem wasn’t having the conversation for Dante, it was remembering what he was angry about once he saw her. Being near his pretty girl made him so effortlessly weak that Dante didn’t know if he could express himself properly. Until he was able to process everything that they’ve lived through the last few years, and he could clearly see where things had gone wrong, he wouldn’t be able to go near her. A single look into her eyes would have him begging for forgiveness in an argument that he wasn’t sure he was entirely at fault on. Somehow, he kept getting himself into these predicaments since coming back home. First with Lincoln, and now Sawyer. When would it all end? He couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the dramatics Leo spewed but he didn’t stop him. Nothing he said would keep Dante from coming back the following night, or the one after that. This was the longest he’s ever been without speaking to Sawyer and if being outside of her apartment before she drifted off to sleep calmed that need to burst through her door - he did have a key - then he’d sit outside and watch her light go out. “Not that long." he said, rather honestly despite how put out he was at being caught. "I reckon about an hour before she’s in bed." Sawyer took forever in the shower, especially after sex. He could just imagine her inside, caressing her sores as she cleansed her body. Soap running trails down her wet body. He swore he knew her like the back of his hand. Knew her likes, her dislikes, the way she smelled after the gym, after sex. His eyes darted to Leo’s face, noting the lack of moisture on his skin and knew he hadn’t showered just yet.  Dante reached behind his friend and pulled his face onto his own. Catching his lips between his teeth before devouring any trace of his pretty girl from them. Maybe it was all his mind playing tricks, but he swore he could taste her there. Could smell her dew still lingering on Leo’s skin. Pulling apart from the other male, Dante repositioned his junior and cleared his throat. “You don’t mind waiting, do you?”

[incorrectsmashbrosquotes]

The real reason why Dante didn't come to Smash Bros

Dante is sitting at a table, looking over two pieces of mail with a serious expression on his face. Lady walks in.

Lady: What's got you looking all stern?

Dante: Well, I'm in a bit of a predicament. You know how I finally managed to pay off the bills for this month?

Lady: Yeah. A one in a million opprotunity.

Dante: Well, earlier I got two pieces of mail. One of them is a coupon for 85% off pizza as long as it's delivered. I got money to spend, and I'm thinking to myself, that's a good ass deal. 

Lady: Damn, that is a good ass deal.

Dante: Right? Now, envelope #2 is a Smash Bros invitation.

Lady: You mean that one party where you wail on a bunch of weird looking guys with items on platforms?

Dante: Bingo.

Trish: Didn't you already do tha- OH, wait. That was the other one! The one where you met Heihachi! I heard his kid got into Smash.

Dante: And you brought up memories of the past. And that wasn't me. They just decided to try something I didn't entirely agree with. 

Nero: Wait, how'd you meet Heihachi?

Dante: Long story, I don't like the contents of it.

Trish: You had brown hair, your voice was different. Oh, even your Devil Trigg-

Nero: Brown hair? Were you going through some sort of midlife crisis?

Dante: Trish, I don't want to talk about it.

Trish: Okay, party pooper.

Dante: Back to the topic, I got an invitation. Basically, it's a huge party.

Lady: ...So, what's the problem?

Dante: Should I choose pizza or Smash?

Lady: You're seriously having trouble choosing...?

Dante: 85% off doesn't happen everyday.

Lady: Fair. 

Trish: Look, let's think about it like this. You either have a bunch of pizza, or you get to be in Smash Bros.

Dante: ....

Trish: ....

Dante: ....Pizza.

Trish: Well, ladies and gentlemen, you heard it here. Super Smash Bros will not be featuring Dante from the Devil May Cry series.

Lady: Was that some sort of reference?

Dante: Now, now. I think there's a way I can still be featured. Just need to find one of my old outfits.

....

Mii Swordfighter is walking down the sidewalk.  He is then halted by a voice.

Dante: Hey, buddy.

Mii Swordfighter turns and sees Dante.

Mii Swordfighter: :O

Dante, holding a costume: Wanna get stylish?