#DMC Survey

[our-reb00t-boi]

So I made a DmC survey & this time it does work!! UPDATE

This is purely fandom-made! I made one before but SurveyMonkey wants to suck money out of my balls to get ALL the results

One of my friends suggested Google Survey Forms as a free tool. And hopefully it is free and we get to see the final form, and share the crap on some of the socials we have!

I will definitely update this or make a new post if something still goes wrong. The only way to test that out is to actually get it out on field, I guess *fingers-crossed*

UPDATE: Thank you all for answering!! Th survey won't be accepting anymore answers, hopefully, since I did toggle the close option.

So now, will be posting the results probably on sunday!!

[system-of-a-feather]

I'm making the proposition to ban Ray from the front he takes up too many brain cells and leaves us with none, all in favor, say I-

SIKE I AM THE SENATE

-XIV

[inkburnt]

Some little news!

I am now making quite public and accessible an interest check/survey that I’m using to measure people’s feelings toward the next V fic I have coming! While it’s not yet published, I’d love to know if anyone on Tumblr would be excited to see the fic when it comes!

For a bit of background, it'll be post-DMC5, V-is-not-Vergil AU, non-ship, and features a couple of OCs. The survey is very short and can be filled anonymously, so don’t be shy. I’d like to point out that, so far, respondents from AO3 have reacted positively, so I hope that’s an encouraging sign! ;u;

Thank you! I hope to count you in among prospective readers! 💜

[midnightkolrath]

Looking over the results of the Capcom Super Election held awhile back and I'm happy to say...

Devil May Cry holds two Number 1 spots, with Dante holding the crown for favorite character and DMC5 for favorite title.

But, I'm gonna dig more into the details of the results, because it amuses me.

For example, the top 10 for the world has DMC5 as number 1, while Japan has Okami as number 1...which still makes me happy because I also LOVE Okami.

Dino Crisis clocked in at 2nd with RE4R taking 3rd generally.

Dante won the hearts of both the world AND Japan for that number 1 favorite character spot. Its universally agreed Dante's the coolest.

I will say though that the Male vs. Female top 10 details make me laugh abit because Dante and Leon really do be fighting for 1st and 2nd there.

The nicest thing I like to see though? This.

Dino Crisis, Megaman and DMC holding the top 3 spots for interest in sequel/new game. Not the Remake specified question, but this is p big in letting Capcom know that there IS interest.

For the 'which would you like to see a remake of' question, the top answer was 'Nothing on the given list' basically, with fans tossing in their personal desires.

All in all, you can check the full results here along with more details on World vs. Japan votes and comments based on those who did the survey. Its had around 254k votes total which is still alot of vocal input from fans all around. Hopefully they carry onward with what was given in the future!

[shinysamurott9]

I finished Xenoblade X again today and... wow.

OK so, I played Xenoblade X for the first time last year in a marathon of Xenoblade 1, X, and 2, and honestly, compared to 1 & 2, I didn't enjoy it as much. It was the only one I didn't really know much about going in. I felt like it had a lot of good parts, but I hadn't any idea what I was doing because the game has literally no tutorials and I ended up stumbling through the game when I wasn't able to use my Skell, so I just didn't have as much fun with it compared to the trilogy.

However, after finishing Xenogears and the Xenosaga Trilogy, I thought it would be a good idea to give X another shot as a nice way to bookend playing the Xeno series, specifically after watching some guides and learning how the combat actually works (Thanks Enel)

And, holy shit. Out of every game I've ever played, this and DMC 3 are the ones I'm most glad I gave a second chance. I genuinely could not stop thinking about this game after I started playing again. Before I stopped pretty much as soon as I beat the final boss, this time I went literally all the way and completed the entire Mira Survey. I'm just gonna take this chance to go in and incoherently go off about about all the stuff I have in my head about this beautiful mess of a game.

Ok so the combat. Overdrive, is a completely balanced mechanic that doesn't allow you to completely take the main game’s difficulty and snap it over your knee like a fucking twig. Except it is. Like, it is honestly comical just how trivial almost everything becomes with the right arts on your build. And if you throw really busted arts like Ghostwalker/Ghost Factory or Blossom Dance into the mix, literally nothing can stand up to you bar the literal endgame superbosses, and a big part of that is just because a lot of them, Telethia in particular, are in positions where you literally can't fight them on foot and realistically survive without a highly specialised build. But with that proper build, that probably takes a lot of grinding, you can still beat them fairly quickly, save for Levael The Terminus, because it's literally in the middle of the ocean. All because of this funny counter gear.

Going along with Overdrive, is the amount of customisation this game offers you. Almost every weapon type offers you at least a couple arts that work really well alongside Overdrive. The build I ended up with at the end was a Knife, Dual Gun combination, mainly because Smooth Recovery, is an amazing art for Overdrive, and Black Butterfly and Full Specs are great compliments for an Ether Build with Executioner as the main Damage Art. Yeah sure I ended up using Ghostwalker/Factory like most Endgame builds, but hey that shit is comically busted, and I absolutely love abusing stuff like that, intentional or otherwise. Plus I do enjoy the idea of my Cross, Coraline, using the arts of Irina and Elma, her immediate superior officers in BLADE. Which actually brings me to,

I was honestly surprised at how much thought I ended up putting into my Cross this time around, but it was fun. Not just deciding on a good look both when creating her and finding what gear she'd wear, but also thinking about how her character woukd respond to the situations and dialogue options presented throughout the game. It's to the point that Coraline's basically become my first OC, depending on how you count Milton the Mythrakid I guess, since he's an interpretation of a character we know exists but we haven't seen or heard about. Either way I definitelywant to do more with Coraline. Probably gonna draw her some more as time goes on to get a better feel for the design as well as drawing her skell too just because.

That actually brings me around to the story. I'll be the first to admit that overall X's story falls short compared to the trilogy andveven Gears and Saga but it still has a lot of solid stuff that really git me thinking, in addition to stuff I only picked up the second time around, something Xeno stories have been fantastic with since the beginning with Gears. Obviously spoilers ahead as I talk some notable stuff in the plot

This moment really stuck out for me after simmering on it for a while. Because this idea that memories and the continuation of a person's consciousness are what make them who they are would continue as a prominent thematic plot point in the following games. Xenoblade 2 emphasises it the most heavily with Blades losing their memories with each reawakening, thus they lose their "contuity of consciousness". It's quite literally the central source of conflict for Blades and is everywhere in the main story and side content with characters like Praxis, Theory and Vess. Xenoblade 3 has this too, albeit as a more subtle background element with the Agnian and Kevesi Soldiers effectively being reset upon death as they are reborn, however there are still cases where things slip through the cracks, most notably with Eunie and Ashera. Yet despite that, Monica asserts to Eunie that whatever her past life was, it wasn't her and she didn't make it, all because soldiers simply don't have that continuity of consciousness.

Thinking about it now X has plenty of thematic ideas that 2 & 3 would go on to pull from. Things like a cycle of death and rebirth, something that Blade and NLA are trying to achieve with finding the Lifehold Core. As Lao puts it, they're the lucky ones who can come back as many times as they want. Lao's arc is particularly well done all things considered. A moment early on that stuck out to me was when they were discussing how Lin got her spot on the Whale as a way to repay her parents who were crucial in getting the ship going in the first place. Lao, whether he shows it or not, would have some misgivings about that, and Elma seemingly picks up on that and is quick to point out Lin's own skill were crucial in her getting her spot and that it wasn't just pure nepotism. It's really interesting to see Elma pick up on Lao's misgivings so early. If we do ever get an X sequel, which I do think and hope we will sooner or later, I'll be very curious to see where Lao's character goes from here. Speaking of characters who I really want to learn more about,

Elma is a really interesting character honestly despite the many unanswered questions surrounding her, it just has me more intrigued to learn more about her. The question of what her species and planet are like is one i really want to see explored someday. Funnily enough, 2 actually gave us a breadcrumb of that. Elma has a line when receiving a Seafood pouch item, one of her favourite categories, where she expresses fascination with the concept. "Making meals out of marine lifeforms, fascinating" which I've always taken as her species just straight up not having a concept of seafood. Idk why, it's such a minor inconsequential detail that isn't even from X but I always found that super interesting. Her designs are also two of my favourites in the Xeno series, especially dince they double as subtle references to Kos-Mos and T-Elos. I think I lean a little more towards Alien Elma though, something about the crystal hair is really cool to me.

A few other Miscellaneous things I can think of:

The sidequests are fantastic. While many are a little tedious, they do a really good job of building the world and fleshing out the natures and cultures of the different alien species that come to inhabit NLA.

The Affinity Missions go hand in hand with this, they do a great job of fleshing out all the different party members all the while giving you an avenue to learn their unique abilities. Most of those party members are also really well developed abd mostly compelling characters. Even the most if the ones who seem like assholes at first, like Boze or HB, do get better as their affinity missions progress. They clearly knew it was a great concept as it came back in 2 & 3 with the Blade Quests and Hero + Ascension Quests.

The ost is fucking incredible, I've been adding X music to my personal playlist over the course of my playthrough because there's so much good stuff in it. It's honestly criminal how much you end up missing because the Overdrive and Flight themes override 90% of them.

Skells are incredibly cool and a brilliant way to bring in the concept of mech combat systems from the previous Xeno games.

Phew, I think that's everything I've had to say. I've called out many of this game's flaws in other places and most of that I do still stand by. The game is in desperate need of an actual tutorial and QoL improvements. The game's draw distance can be quite frustrating at times trying to find specific things or characters and getting certain materials can be a really annoying grind, (Neinail Materials), but if you can put up with that there is a hell of a game there. I don't know if I'd consider it better than the trilogy, just because it has more complete stories, but it's quite close.

Overall I'm so happy I gave X a second shot and now I'll definitely be there waiting for a port or sequel. It's easily the most underrated game I've ever played. I'm confident it'll happen at some point but either way I'l likely have more Xeno stuff to play in the meantime if whatever's next is Xenoblade 4.

My reaction to this game.

[paradiscake]

Thanks so much for your Sparda headcanons (TT o TT) I really hope Capcom does give us more info about him in a later game; heck, even the reboot gave more focus to Eva. Especially since now that Dante was voted most popular Capcom character, it might incentivise them to develop more DMC. It might be foolish, but I do hope he is still alive. Idk if you already said it in your blog, but do you have a voice claim for him? Somehow I imagine him starting out with a posh accent, though it gradually faded over the years, so it wasn't as strong as it was when the twins were born.

You're welcome. Glad someone likes my ramblings.🥰

I think Capcom or rather DMC team is in an awkward place with Sparda. Each installment tells us something about him. Breadcrumbs but no more. He's arguably been pivotal in every piece of media so it's not like Capcom and co have been deliberately ignoring him. So I hope they do reveal more about him, preferably giving him his own game.

Sparda is dead by all accounts. So unless he's resurrected, I don't think retcononing that is right. He's been enacting his will through Dante and Nero. If Capcom retcons him to be alive, it would be a character assassination. So if he's to turn up in a sequel, I prefer it's resurrection or flashbacks.

I don't know where Capcom stands with DMC at this moment. It's a popular franchise and makes them money but we know it's far from being the favorite child. And DMC's chief director, Hideaki Itsuno is doing Dragon's Dogma 2. The DMC future is foggy. I hope Capcom doesn't leave us hanging for years again. Especially with the results of the recent survey.

As for the voice, @saiyanblood2 suggested Crispin Freeman whom you know as Alucard from Hellsing and Hellsing Ultimate. And I do agree with a posh British accent as Redgrave, Sparda's city is based on London structures and Sparda himself is shown in Victorian era garbs. So at least in his last centuries, he sounded British.

BUT I also love the idea of Sparda changing accents over the years. He was a wanderer in canon, met different people, spoke different languages, etc. Those are bound to affect his accent in English.

[sapphire-weapon]

Why did they even make the remakes? Was it to 'fix' their current story to reuse the characters to assure more money? Like it an obvious, yes for the money, but what's up with the numbers and surveys? Why wasn't just remaster an option?

The early/mid 2010s were not a good time for Capcom. Like, I know that today, Capcom is one of the most trusted publishers in the AAA space, but that was not the case 10 years ago. 10 years ago, Capcom was what Blizzard is today (you know, without the whole "rape and suicide of female devs" thing)

SF5 released with on-disc DLC to massive controversy.

DMC4 flopped, and then DmC was an absolute disaster, with the director of that game openly trolling fans.

Monster Hunter had gone fully mobile and Capcom stopped releasing it in the West.

They canceled like 3 or 4 Megaman games and let the franchise die an undignified death.

Dead Rising got run into the ground with two horrible releases back to back.

And then RE6 happened.

Fans had been begging Capcom for an RE2 remake since the first REmake, and Capcom's answer has always been "no" "not gonna do it" "not a chance" "you already have Darkside Chronicles" "not now sweetie the grownups are talking" and finally "NO. STOP ASKING."

So, in 2015, when public opinion of the company was in the toilet and Capcom needed to stop the bleeding, Hirabayashi grabbed a hammer and smashed the "IN CASE OF EMERGENCY BREAK GLASS" window and dropped plans for an RE2 remake onto Capcom corporate's desk.

And it actually worked lmao

Hirabayashi's announcement video for RE2make was so sincere and so genuine and so earnest and so exciting that "WE DO IT!!!!!" became a rallying cry across the industry, and everyone forgot for a while just how much they distrusted Capcom. I can't recall a single person going "lmao modern Capcom remaking RE2 LOOOOL"

The RE2make announcement was the start of Capcom's redemption arc. It was something they needed to do to signal to fans "we're listening and we want to do better."

[in2thenewworld]

Hi! Can I get a matchup for Devil May Cry

I am female, she/her, 25 years old, bisexual, ENFP.

I am a very ambitious person that loves to learn new things, I am an artist by profession and finished 2 art schools. I am a big art history nerd and love to talk about artsy and philosophical things. I am very extrovert and love to meet new people, I love going out and taking long walks. My main hobbies are video games, writing, reading, watching anime and movies and lifting. I am very friendly, love hearing out other people and I always try to understand their side and how they feel. I am very sensitive and tend to easily get attached to people. Romance wise I struggle to show affection to my partner, however I show it trough gift giving rather than physical touch or trough words. Overall in relationships I am very communicative and will always bring up issues or understand if my partner has issues with me and I will try to fix them always.

Appearance: medium length red hair, a mole above my lip, chubby build and short, pale skin and hazel eyes, 5'2 (I am very short). What I seek in a partner is someone understanding of my issues, I suffer from BPD, anxiety, OCD and depression and it's essential for me to have a partner who is patient and can support me when it gets bad.

Heya!! Sorry it’s been a hot minute, I’ve been working on this gradually since I got the request I hope it’s to your liking c:

Here’s to striking up a new spark!

Matchup loading! ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

…

your match is…

TRISH!

* Trish admires your character. You’re ambitious, headstrong and well intentioned. There’s something about you that instantly draws her in, and then she can’t turn away. It’s not very often someone is able to catch her attention so much and so quickly. You’re already ticking her boxes with one conversation- although it’ll take a lot longer than one conversation if you want to truly crack her. It’s going to be a slow burn relationship.

* Direct communication is an absolute must for Trish, so you’ve come to the right place. She doesn’t like to imply. She doesn’t like when she has to read what people mean when they say something else. If you want something, ask. If there’s a problem, speak up. She’s not going to take offence to that. She may come off intimidating to strangers, but her heart is good, and even better to those she loves most.

* Trish is calm and patient by nature, but will never overstep her boundaries. She can read you very well once you get close, and she’s not overly the mother type anyway- that’s a stereotype she’s not too fond of being read as. She’s just the perfect amount of caring. No more, no less.

* She’s always got sound advice. She can tell it like it is, but not so bluntly that an unwanted response will come off mean. She’s your rock, she’s here to support you. In return, you support her in her own times of need.

* You’re an extrovert? Now you have a scary dog! Congrats! When I tell you she would let the world BURN for you. If you want protective, you got it.

* Nico most definitely catches you staring at Trish and proceeds to make fun of you for it. Will call you guys things like “lovebirds” and what not.

* Trish has expensive taste and that includes when buying for her lover. Prepare to be spoiled with not only lavish but also the most well thought out gifts ever. And she absolutely adores and treasures anything you give her.

* Philosophical talks are a total go for Trish. She loves to hear you, you love to hear her. She can be quite mature and intellectual so having someone on her level to communicate with is the key.

* Trish can be quite witty, so even if she isn’t the loudest, she can totally gel with the extroverts.

* She uses your artistic talents to her and everyone else’s advantage- by which I mean you decorate the dmc office together because Dante refuses to have an eye for interior design.

* You’ll probably find yourself on a lot of far out missions with her, seeing, surveying and fighting in the new places the gang haven’t been to yet

* Bonus points if you know some background about the history of said place!

* You’re occasionally in charge of a group movie night now, and everyone adores it. Dmc family bonding time!

* Trish is the more affectionate one but she can read the room, so she knows when to lay off if need be.

[bargainbinbobbin]

Everything You Need To Know About My Page!

SOME BASIC INFO: 1. Legal Disclaimer- Most of the art I use has been gathered/saved over the last several years of being online. I do not claim to own any of the pieces, I am simply transforming them from one medium to another through fair use of the copyright act.

2. Since I saved most of the art so long ago I don't know the original artists and cannot properly credit them. If you recognize a piece I welcome you to leave a comment and help me give proper credit where credit is due.

3. All the patterns I make are completely free, I will never charge for any of them. I do however accept donations, and there is a link to my Ko-fi on another pinned post if you are feeling generous.

4. All my patterns will be using DMC as the default thread brand

5. Due to the program I am using the colors depicted in the promotional picture or on the pattern itself may not always match the actual color of the threads. I apologize, but there is nothing I can do about that. I try my best to match the colors as closely as possible but mistakes happen and I am only human

CONTACTING ME/SUBMITTING PHOTOS: My email is linked below. However, you are more likely to get a response by DM-ing me on my various social media platforms than you are by sending me an email. Email: bargain.bin.bobbin@gmail.com Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100094461221500 Twitter: https://twitter.com/ThreebeB59171 Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/bargain_bin_bobbin/ I am accepting photo submissions that I can turn into patterns, If you have a photo or piece of art you would like turned please follow the instructions below: TO SUBMIT A PHOTO, simply reach out to me and send the photo with the caption "Potential Pattern". If you know of the artist who made the piece then make sure to let me know who they are so I can give proper credit. DISCLAIMER- sending me a photo doesn't automatically mean it will be chosen or made into a pattern. I reserve the right to turn down any photo sent to me at any time. Please be mindful and courteous when sending pictures, keep in mind that I am only one person. Spam will be deleted and the senders blocked.

MONTHLY VOTES: Every month I will host a vote as to what my next pattern will be. The categories may differ (anime, video games, horror, etc.) but there will always be 5 pictures to choose from. I will create a post each month to show off the 5 options and link the voting survey. HOW TO VOTE: There will be a link to a Google Survey. Simply click on the link and vote for your favorite. Each voting period will last one week. The winner of each vote will remain a mystery until the completed pattern is posted in the week after the voting period has ended.

[skvaderarts]

Happy New Year! I hope you enjoy the surprise!

Hello, everyone! Happy Callender New Year! I hope you spent the first day of the year having fun and making good memories!

Now, I said I have a surprise, and It's time I revealed it! I'm setting up a Discord Server for everyone to join (should you wish to!) It launches on Wednesday, January 3rd of this year! Wow, It's weird to think that it's not 2023 anymore... I hope 2024 is better. A low bar to meet, I know, but if the last few years have proven anything it's that you can always limbo lower lol!

I've been planning this for a looong time now, but I figured that launching it at the start of the year would be a better idea! Several of you asked for something like this in the feedback surveys, so I thought it might be fun! It will be a fun little hub where we can talk about the Soliloquy Saga, chat about DMC in general, and just hang out and have fun! It will also serve as an additional place for me to post updates on things like what time chapters will go up on the days that they are posted, let you know if there are any last-minute cancelations (I hope I have a lot less of those this year!) and post little teasers for things to come! I have a lot of fun plans, so I hope you come and check it out! And of course, it's free! I wish I didn't have to say that, but I know some servers charge fees or whatever, so I probably should!

If you are not into that sort of thing, that's totally fine! Don't do something you don't want to for my sake! This is just something additional that I want to do! But if by any chance you want to check it out, let me know! And of course, I'm looking for feedback on what you would like to see in the future for the stories (and for the server), so let me know! I want to tailor the server to everyone's interests, and above all else, I want everyone to enjoy the stories! That will always be my main priority, so don't worry! Also, if you have any Discord alternatives you would like me to check out or if you have any features you'd like me to add to the server, let me know! I'd love to be able to release little tastes of what I'm working on and just be able to chat with all of you! Also, don't worry, I'm not going to spam you all. I can't stand spam lol! No one wants that.

Anyway, take care and I hope to see you all soon! The first chapter of the year goes up this Friday and the server launches Wednesday! I'm excited to release these next few chapters! They are super exciting! I hope the surprise wasn't lame! Sorry if it was! Take care, celebrate safely, and know that I'm wishing you well! Bye bye!

[mysteriousanderfels]

Dante/Vergil Oneshot

This piece is heavily inspired and referenced from my favorite DMC writer and her ageless and peerless Consanguinity. I immensily recommand to check it out to fully understand the reference and setting behind this little piece. She's the best thing to happen to the DV fandom and the best one to ever give life and voice to Vergil since the devs.

It’s not thundering outside. It’s not even raining and they both just joined their beddings, yet Dante sneaks into his twin brother’s bedroom, under his duvet and next to his body before the latter has even time to warm his bedsheets. 

Vergil isn’t fazed. He complements the behavior with a grouse, a peeve or just sigh sometimes—depending on Dante's conduct throughout the day, and other times, he says nothing and welcomes his twin’s habit with a scoot or a hand lifting up the covers.

They’re thirteen now and they outgrew a number of things for a while. Their father’s swords replaced their makeshift ones, their clothes don’t come from the same closet anymore, Vergil doesn’t write his name on his belongings anymore because Dante doesn’t snag them anymore. His favorite books, his favorite toys, his favorite instrument, they’re all things eight years old Dante loved to paw at because his twin is supposed to share everything with him since he’s sharing everything with Vergil.

“We’re twins! What's mine is yours and what's yours is mine!”

(You have all my attention so I want all of yours)

Yes, Dante and Vergil outgrew a number of things now.

But not all.

Dante’s love for firearms for example, Vergil’s love for the violin and Dante’s habit for slipping into Vergil’s bed at night.

It started when they were still infants, whenever it was raining or Dante had a bad dream. Dante would pad to Vergil’s bedroom, creak the door open, Vergil would tip his head up, see his brother’s small silhouette and Dante would slip in next to him, clutch the pillow always there for him and breathe out restfully under the hand patting his hair.

But the pretense of storms or nightmares was dropped for a while now. 

At least they outgrew that part.

Something happened a week ago.

Something that will change them forever—but they don't know that yet.

Something that will ascend and descend them to heaven and hell—but later on.

For now, Vergil has poised his lips on Dante’s one cidery-redolent autumn evening, amidst the fallen apples and leaves at the edge of the garden, after Dante lost a sparring with their father's swords.

The world, the life, the ecosystem Dante knew and would know altered off their axis - forever.

“You are not my enemy. You’re my brother and I am yours. So let it be for once, Dante.”

Now Dante burrows into Vergil’s duvet; the little ritual reenacting itself after a week of abstinence and slight avoidance.

His brother rambles about something for a good time. Vergil allows the droning sound of his hushed timber with a resting pout as it shall transport him to the realms of Morpheus soon, he knows. Dante's voice is never more pleasant than when it's under the obligation of quietness.

But his little brother seems more fussy than usual as he doesn’t only burrow into the duvet and sheets but snuggles closer and closer, until he’s comfortable enough to reveal his ploy by kissing Vergil’s lips all at once. “That’s payback for earlier by the way,” he lowly states when he pulls back. 

It’s just a peck. Chaste and chary like the boy who's just delivered it if the way Dante’s quick withdrawal is anything to judge by.

“Dante.”

“This way I know I’ll have the upperhand before the day’s over.”

“... What?”

“For pushing me in mom’s favorite flower bush earlier. I know you’ll be too scared to get back at me this way.”

It’s true. Vergil hasn’t tried to touch the forbidden fruit ever since he took a bite; but as everyone knows with that particular tale, the damage was already done.

Vergil quietly surveys his brother lying next to him; his shimmering profile bathed in the tender light of the moonrise, his cocky statement betrayed by evasive eyes, a smirk that can’t stop twitching and fists that fidget around the duvet.

Vergil sees all this endearing beauty and it doesn’t deplete the chagrin brimming in his pale, blue eyes, for beneath those still, arctic lakes simmer a blue fire—and isn't it the hottest part of a flame? The part that burns so readily and intensely? So enduringly and devastatingly…

“You’re right. I’m scared.”

Dante is all haughty and winsome when he replies, “Tsk, I knew it.”

“I���m scared to hurt you if I do something similar.”

Dante whips his head in a scramble of flaxen white strands and stares at Vergil with a dent between his brows. He states matter-of-factly, “You’ll never hurt me.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do. You’ll never hurt me. And even if you do, I think it’s gonna be a good hurt.”

Vergil’s silver eyebrow cocks up. “A good hurt?” What is his brother saying? Is he even aware of what he's doing?

Dante leans close–closer, one hand slipping under the expensive silk of the pillow, the other balled in a fist against his bottom lip.

Pain in pleasure and pleasure in pain, that’s what his brother’s probably trying to convey in his plain, homespun words. 

Vergil had come across the concept in a few poems. Or Perhaps he’s guilessly alluding to the clattering thrill they feel every time they viciously spar - these secret quivers felt as if standing upon the verge of imminent peril—and loving it.

This dark pleasure domesticated after learning they were unable to kill each other. 

Right. ‘A good hurt.’

“Yeah, ‘m just saying, I dunno," Dante fumbles with a pout now. "What I mean is I'm not scared of anything… and I trust you.”

What Dante doesn't understand is that it's not about the quintessential ways of being scared or hurt. Vergil - in his visionary sense beyond his youthful age - is foreboding that thinning the fabric of their strong bond to a translucent premise will cause hurt where they usually feel those secret quivers in combat - in that deep, deep solemn place where affection and affliction are born and bolstered.

Dante is so fiery. When he loses, when he bites the dust and time’s up, he gets this ardent look in his eyes that threatens to consume his own vision.

Helping him off the ground, hands clutched and unwilling to let go, Vergil pitching Dante forward to break the impasse was the mistake. 

He took him off guard, yes. Dante caught himself short of his face and looked even more accusatory, yes. But something in his eyes changed. The ardent look subsided, replaced by something searching and… unknown.

But it was too quick for Vergil to know what it was - the moment but fleeting seconds and insufficient to decipher something as fickle as his dear little brother. 

And his little brother was so fickle, for after the fire and the caesura, came the void.

Vergil is used to seeing himself reflected in the flames of those eyes. Has felt himself burned and consumed in them time and again like a fort meant to be conquered. But that day, in that fleeting moment where Dante was pitched short of his face, Vergil saw himself burn to a crisp in his brother’s gaze.

No fort anymore. Just barren soil; and he felt his chest tighten like never before, for it was a deep sense of loss and small, lovely Vergil never knew what that is, even with their father still not back home.

In his introspection, Vergil forgot that he left Dante hanging, but he knows not to worry too much about that as his roguish brother always finds the best ways to draw his attention. 

"I kissed Evelynn the other day."

Vergil's brow twitches.

With eyes glazed by tiredness and apathy, he let out a small “Oh.”

Dante shrugs. "Yeah. ‘twas nice," he marks a pause on purpose, making sure his brother either meets his eyes or at least grasp the full impact of his next words. But his twin doesn't meet him in the eyes so Dante lets the bomb drop in an undertone, "but not as nice." 

It's enough to drag Vergil's placid gaze all the way up their mirror image - but he stays silent. Dante is trying to rattle him and the fact’s as clear as his blue eyes. Maybe he should try to do the same.

‘Maybe you should try the gardener’s son, then,’ Vergil’s wit quickly devises, but refrain from using the comeback for the simple and good reason that he wouldn’t mean it.

It’s appalling enough that he’s made Dante dispense kisses and God knows what as a trial run. He doesn’t want to give him the impression that he should peruse more.

“She said my hair’s pretty but it’s too white. And mom keeps telling us that we’re very special...”

“I don’t think kissing your brother is what mom meant by ‘special’.”

“I’ll probably regret saying this later but right now, I don’t give a damn about mom.” 

“That’s not very nice.” 

“And you’re chickenshit,” Dante rebuts, turning away to face the high ceiling with a pout, finally doing something that reflects their age.  

And Vergil could leave it here. The chokehold of this ungodly discussion reached.

Blue peppers observe and deconstruct in the deep silence that sets.

They map out the situation and Dante’s dainty profile and slowly, slowly, the vines of something errant grow through the reasoning loam of the elder brother’s mind…

(In this moment, I admit I felt betrayed, my brother. Betrayed by my integrity and my nerves. Nerves I thought colder than millennial glaciers. In one moment, a single movement, a lone incentive, you made everything melt away. And by everything, I mean all - me, you, the rules we live in, the normalcy Mother strived to keep us in.

I lean in and kiss your neck and send it all flying into the breeze.)

It’s vowed to fail like Néron’s reign, but for now—just for now, they’ll indulge the sinful Rome.

Dante gasps and jolts in surprise. Vergil has already assumed his previous position by the time Dante faces him. 

“What was that?”

“What you wanted.”

Dante frowns. “That’s not what I wanted.”

“What did you want then,” Vergil asks without asking, stifling a sigh the best he can. He feels out of his element and on the edge as if the power of macrocosm is pouring on him with a chastising glare. 

"I don't want anything," Dante says and keeps on sulking like Achilles in his tent.

"Don't call me chickenshit then."

"But you are. Heh. You're the one saying you're scared."

"Yes. Scared to hurt you, idiot."

"Hurt me with what? That? Psh. That didn't even faze me.”

Vergil holds Dante in a fierce glare. Oh, he wants to be fazed, huh? He wants to feel the goosebumps. He wants to be shocked. 

 Vergil scowls, hackles raised by the effect of these foolish taunts and his brother's twinkling eyes forever challenging and beguiling.

A virginal gaze.

His pantheon to blaze.

And Vergil will show him ‘faze’.

He grabs his jaw at once and delivers a kiss to it - soft and at odds with the stern grip that allows it - but he doesn’t stop there. 

He presses his soft lips a second time slightly below, then again further down and Vergil is kissing down Dante’s neck without knowing that he had just opened the fabled box—with the gentleness of bow-shaped lips.

But Vergil can’t know that now. They’re just thirteen and all he cares about at this moment is Dante's proficiently shutted mouth.

Vergil takes a peek at Dante from beneath his silver lashes and sees his little brother’s expression definitely not unfazed.

He pulls away then with the smoothness of his precious Yamato being pulled away and settles back against his pillow.

He knows it’s wrong. He knows he shouldn’t bite the forbidden fruit twice. He just… needs to set his brother still for a damned second. Just show him that he won’t be a pushover in his own beddings. And perhaps set still something else inside him, too. Something deeply ferocious that’s beginning to rear its head with every day that goes by.

Dante stares at him, a shock delivered to his spirit like the vibrations of a bell which his brother has tolled across the citadel of his body, down to the deep galleries of his soul.

Vergil prides himself for a moment at the result. Dante is quiet, contemplating and breath-stolen—just the way he likes him. 

But that is not knowing Dante—or his innate inferno.

He springs up, abrupt as a string that snaps beneath the bow and descends on Vergil.

He descends on Vergil lips first and reason last - always a loser this one - and from this moment on, it’s like a vice has closed on them—the thinned out fabric of their bond ruptured but quickly gathered into something else - and onward will only be the path of suffering the burden of this newborn troth.

But they don’t know that yet.

For now, something is happening. Something huge like hurricanes, tornados and boys with blue eyes—blue eyes kept wide open…

When they part for breath, their silver-blue gaze mirrors the other like two predators unwilling to drop their guard first.

Or like two starstruck lovers.

“You didn’t close your eyes,” Dante states.

“You didn’t either,” answers Vergil.

“‘twas to make sure you won’t skedaddle.”

“This is my bed. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I see… well, in that case…” Dante rests his palm above Vergil’s eyes and slides it down softly. “Let’s try this way out now…”

And Dante covers his brother again.

Imagine a perfect hideaway without a time.

Imagine a perfect eden without a serpent.

Imagine you’re thirteen and you’ve discovered the meaning of a pure kiss…

[our-reb00t-boi]

the DmC survey results

Thanks for answering! There are overall 41 respondents! I was expecting 30, but 41 is enough for the whole week

These are from the Google Survey Form results as the application breaks them down:

First off, pie charts per question

Breaking them down numerically...

On the 1st question there are:

1. Yes, absolutely - 23 responses

2. It’s an ok game - 9 responses

3. No, it’s just not my game - 4 responses

4. Absolutely not - 3 responses

5. left blank - 2 left them blank

On the 2nd question there are:

20 people - North Americans

7 people - Europeans

6 people - South East Asians

2 people - East Asians

2 people - Oceania

1 person - South Asians

1 person - North Asians

1 person types they’re from Tasmania

1 left blank

On the 3rd question there are:

Below 18 - 7 responses

18 to 25 - 17 responses

26 to 35 - 14 responses

36 to 40s - 2 responses

50s and above - none

1 person left it blank

On the 4th question there are:

13 are Heterosexual Male

8 are Bisexual Female

7 are Non-binary/Queer

3 are Bisexual Male

2 are Heterosexual Female

2 are Transgender Masculine

1 is a Transgender Feminine

1 identifies they are Pansexual Genderfluid

1 identifies they are Pansexual Female

1 identifies they are Aroace Female

1 typed they prefer not to say

1 left it blank

I would really like to thank these people.

And really happy shoutout to that one genderfluid person from Tasmania!! Chin up, kid!!

[dante-winning-archive]

I pitched a whole DMC 1 remake in that survey you linked.

They should hire you. Also I'd like to hear about it! What kinds of things do you want to see?

[corky-the-gluttony-demon]

DMC: An Absurd Comedy (A Devil May Cry Fanfiction) - Haunted by Dreams Arc - Chapter 4

Location: Elysium Lounge, Snowfield

January 6th, 3:25 PM

The Elysium Lounge loomed ahead of them. Snow swirled lazily around the dark, ornate building, as if even the storm had been caught in the demon’s thrall. Felix and Corky stood at the entrance, their breath visible in the cold air as they surveyed the place.

“Great. Another demon-infested shithole,” Felix muttered, adjusting his jacket. “You’d think these bastards would pick a place with better vibes.”

Corky snorted, rolling her shoulders as she tightened her grip on Gladius and Imbokodo. “Yeah, well, I’ve never known demons to have good taste. Let’s just get in, smash whatever needs smashing, and get out. I’m starving.”

Before they could push the heavy doors open, a familiar figure emerged from the shadows, leaning on a gnarled staff. It was Phineas, the blind demon they had once helped back in Limbo City. His sightless eyes seemed to glow faintly in the dim light, and a knowing smile curved his lips as he approached.

“Well, well. If it isn’t my old friends,” Phineas said. “Fate has a curious way of bringing us together again, doesn’t it?”

Felix raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. “Phineas? Didn’t expect to see you here. Thought you’d moved on to better things.”

Phineas chuckled softly, tapping his staff on the ground as he stopped in front of them. “Indeed, I had hoped to leave these dark days behind. But it seems I still have a debt to repay. And what better way than to offer my assistance in a time of need?”

Corky tilted her head. “What are you doing here, old man? This place doesn’t exactly scream ‘retirement home.’”

Phineas’s smile faded slightly, his expression turning serious. “I am here because of Belphegor. His presence has poisoned this land, and it will only grow stronger if left unchecked. I’ve come to offer you vital information—information that may very well save your lives.”

Felix crossed his arms,. “Alright, let’s hear it. But make it quick—Nico’s gonna be back soon, and we’ve got a demon to take down.”

Phineas nodded, his tone grave. “Belphegor is unlike the other demons you’ve faced. You cannot rely on brute force alone to defeat him. His power grows not from physical strength, but from the weakening of the will. He thrives on the complacency and hopelessness of those who cross his path.”

Corky’s grip tightened on her weapons, her expression darkening. “So, what are you saying? We’re gonna have to fight him in our heads?”

“In a sense,” Phineas replied, his sightless gaze seeming to bore into them. “To defeat Belphegor, you must confront not just the demon, but the parts of yourselves you fear the most.”

Felix’s jaw tightened, his usual bravado tempered by the weight of Phineas’s words. “Great. So, not only do we have to kill a demon, we’ve got to do some soul-searching too? Just what I needed.”

Corky glanced at Felix. “You probably need it the most, Felix.”

“Fuck you…”

Phineas placed a hand on Felix’s shoulder, his touch surprisingly warm despite the cold. “Remember, the true battle is within. Stay strong, stay focused, and you will overcome. Now, go. Belphegor’s influence grows with every passing moment.”

Felix gave a curt nod, his usual cockiness subdued by the gravity of the situation. “Thanks, Phineas.”

Phineas smiled faintly, stepping back as they moved toward the entrance. “Consider my debt repaid. May fortune favor you, my friends.”

As he left, Corky scoffed, “’Thanks, Phineas?’ He just gave us a bunch of nothing.”

With that, Felix and Corky pushed open the doors of the Elysium Lounge, the heavy wood groaning as it gave way. The interior was shrouded in a thick haze. Soft, seductive music played from an unseen source, and the shadows seemed to dance in time with the rhythm, their movements languid and hypnotic.

The lounge was filled with the remnants of luxury—velvet drapes, gilded furniture, and crystal chandeliers that had long since lost their luster. Patrons, or what was left of them, lounged in various states of stupor, their eyes half-lidded, their bodies slack as they inhaled the intoxicating fumes.

Felix wrinkled his nose in disgust. “This place is a nightmare. How the hell are we supposed to find an artifact in all this?”

Corky’s gaze swept the room, her eyes narrowing as she spotted a large, ornate hookah at the center of the lounge, its base engraved with demonic symbols. The smoke that wafted from it was thick and dark, swirling in unnatural patterns. “I’d bet my last meal it’s got something to do with that.”

Felix followed her gaze, his expression hardening. “You might be right. Looks like we’ve got our work cut out for us.”

They moved through the lounge, carefully avoiding the patrons who seemed more like living corpses than actual people. The closer they got to the hookah, the thicker the air became, as if the very atmosphere was trying to drag them down into the same state of lethargy that had claimed the others.

Felix shook his head, trying to clear the fog that was slowly creeping into his mind. “Damn it, I can feel this place getting to me already. We need to destroy that thing before it turns us into zombies.”

Corky nodded, though she too was beginning to feel the effects.

They reached the hookah, the dark smoke curling around them like tendrils, tugging at their willpower, trying to lull them into a false sense of peace.

Felix gritted his teeth, raising Eryx as he prepared to smash the cursed object. “Time to put this thing out of its misery.”

But before he could bring the gauntlets down on the ornate hookah, the thick, dark smoke that had been lazily curling from the hookah suddenly surged upwards, coalescing into a massive, grotesque figure that filled the room with its presence.

The creature was a nightmarish amalgamation of human and insect—its body was that of an impossibly bloated man, with multiple pairs of spindly, insect-like legs jutting out from its sides.

“Holy shit, what is that?” Corky shouted, backing away as the creature let out a wheezing laugh that rattled the walls.

“Looks like we’ve got ourselves a big, fat problem,” Felix muttered, his eyes narrowing as he took in the monstrosity before them.

The creature—Belphegor’s twisted enforcer, the Smoke Fiend—reached out with one of its long, spindly arms, its clawed fingers dripping with tar-like ichor. The air around it shimmered with a heat haze, and the smoke it exhaled seemed to warp reality itself, creating hallucinations that flickered at the edges of Felix and Corky’s vision.

As if the Smoke Fiend wasn’t bad enough, the opium den’s patrons began to stir, their glazed eyes flickering with unnatural light. They rose from their reclining positions, their movements jerky and unnatural as if they were marionettes controlled by unseen strings. These once-humans had been transformed into Sloth Thralls—mindless, shuffling creatures whose only purpose was to serve their master’s will.

The Thralls stumbled forward, their hands outstretched as they muttered incoherently under their breath, their voices a chorus of despair and apathy.

“Great, just great,” Corky grumbled, readying Gladius and Imbokodo. “As if fighting that big bastard wasn’t enough, now we’ve got zombie junkies to deal with.”

Felix cracked his neck, his trademark grin slipping back into place. “Hey, more targets, more fun, right? Let’s clear these guys out before they bore us to death.”

She swung Gladius in a wide arc, slicing through the first wave of Thralls with ease. The creatures barely put up a fight, their sluggish movements making them easy targets, but their sheer numbers made them a persistent nuisance. Each time Corky cut one down, another seemed to take its place, stumbling forward.

Meanwhile, Felix focused on the Smoke Fiend, his gauntlets crackling with energy as he closed the distance between them. The creature’s laughter echoed through the room, its grin widening as it exhaled another thick cloud of smoke that engulfed Felix. For a moment, his vision swam, the room around him warping and distorting as the smoke played tricks on his mind.

He could see his reflection in a cracked mirror across the room, but it wasn’t his usual cocky self staring back. Instead, it was a twisted version of him—sweaty and gaunt, with dark circles under his eyes and a look of utter defeat. The reflection sneered at him, mouthing the words “You’re not strong enough.”

Felix growled, shaking his head to clear the hallucination. “Nice try, asshole, but I’m not falling for that.”

He launched himself at the Smoke Fiend, slamming Eryx into its bloated chest with a powerful uppercut. The impact sent a shockwave through the creature’s body, causing it to recoil with a wheezing gasp. Tar-like blood oozed from the wound, but the Fiend’s grin never faltered. Instead, it retaliated with a swipe of its clawed hand, knocking Felix off balance and sending him crashing into a pile of broken furniture.

“Felix!” Corky shouted, cutting down another Thrall before turning her attention to the Fiend. “Hang on!”

She charged at the creature, Imbokodo swinging with deadly force. The heavy axe connected with one of the Fiend’s insectoid legs, severing it cleanly. The creature screeched in pain, but before Corky could deliver another blow, a wave of smoke washed over her, causing her vision to blur.

For a moment, Corky wasn’t in the opium den anymore. She was back in her childhood home, the walls closing in on her, the stifling weight of her father’s expectations bearing down on her like a physical force. She could hear his voice, telling her she’d never amount to anything, that she was nothing but a failure.

Corky’s grip tightened on her weapons, her teeth gritting against the memories that threatened to overwhelm her. “Not this time,” she muttered, pushing through the illusion with sheer force of will.

The den came back into focus just in time for Corky to see the Smoke Fiend looming over Felix, its claws raised for another strike. With a fierce battle cry, she hurled Gladius like a spear, the blade embedding itself in the Fiend’s side, causing it to howl in agony.

Felix seized the opportunity, springing back to his feet and delivering a punishing series of blows with Eryx. The gauntlets crackled with energy as he pummeled the creature, each hit sending waves of force rippling through its bloated form.

“Corky, now!” Felix shouted, dodging another swipe from the Fiend.

Corky retrieved Gladius and charged forward, her movements fluid and precise. She and Felix attacked in tandem, their strikes perfectly timed as they whittled down the Fiend’s defenses. The creature’s laughter turned into a pained wheeze, its strength waning with each blow.

Finally, with a coordinated attack, Felix delivered a crushing uppercut with Eryx that sent the Fiend staggering backward, while Corky brought Imbokodo down in a mighty swing that cleaved the creature’s head clean off. The Fiend’s body convulsed before collapsing in a heap, the thick smoke dissipating into the air.

The remaining Thralls crumpled to the ground, their bodies lifeless now that the Fiend’s influence had been severed. The heavy, oppressive atmosphere lifted, replaced by an almost eerie calm.

Felix and Corky stood amidst the wreckage, breathing heavily as they surveyed the destruction. The hookah lay in ruins, the source of Belphegor’s power in the Lounge destroyed.

“Damn,” Corky panted, wiping sweat from her brow. “That was one hell of a fight. I’m starting to think these demons are getting more creative.”

Felix smirked, though he was clearly exhausted. “Yeah, but creative or not, they’re still just demons. And we’re still better.”

Corky nodded in agreement, her grin fading slightly as she surveyed the wreckage of the opium den.

They moved deeper into the Lounge, stepping over the unconscious bodies of the patrons who had been freed from the demon’s thrall.

“Okay, this place is definitely on the ‘do not revisit’ list,” Felix muttered, his grip tightening on Eryx. “It’s like someone crossed a funhouse with a fever dream.”

Corky chuckled, though it was tinged with unease. “You’re telling me. I feel like we’re about to walk into a Salvador Dali painting.”

As they ventured further into the Lounge, the corridors narrowed, the walls closing in around them.

“Seriously, what kind of freak designed this place?” Felix grumbled as they pushed through another set of heavy, ornate doors.

The doors led them into a large, circular chamber that had clearly once been the centerpiece of the Lounge. A massive chandelier hung from the ceiling, its crystals caked with dust and grime, casting a sickly yellow light over the room. The walls were lined with mirrors, all cracked and fogged over, reflecting twisted, distorted images of Felix and Corky as they entered.

In the center of the room was a large, ornate fountain, but instead of water, it spewed a thick, oily substance that pooled on the marble floor, filling the room with a nauseating stench.

“Now this is some next-level creepy shit,” Corky muttered, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the room. “Whatever’s causing this, it’s gotta be close.”

Felix didn’t reply, his attention drawn to the fountain. There was something about it that set his nerves on edge, something that felt fundamentally wrong. As he stepped closer, he could see that the oily substance was swirling in the fountain’s basin, forming strange, almost hypnotic patterns that drew his gaze.

“Felix, don’t—” Corky started, but it was too late.

As Felix stared into the swirling liquid, the patterns suddenly shifted, and his reflection in the oily surface morphed into something grotesque—a twisted, monstrous version of himself, with hollow eyes and a grin that stretched far too wide. The reflection reached out from the surface of the liquid, its clawed hand grasping at Felix’s throat.

Felix gasped, stumbling back as the oily hand gripped him, pulling him towards the fountain. The liquid began to bubble and froth, and the reflections in the mirrors around the room twisted and writhed, each one showing a different version of Felix—each more nightmarish than the last.

“Felix!” Corky shouted, rushing to his side. She slashed at the oily hand with Gladius, but the blade passed through it as if it were nothing but smoke.

“Gotta—get—free!” Felix choked out, struggling against the grip of the reflection. He could feel the liquid pulling him down, trying to drag him into the fountain itself, into whatever nightmare lay beyond.

Corky gritted her teeth, thinking fast. “Hold on, I’ve got an idea!”

She grabbed Felix’s arm, her demonic strength straining against the pull of the fountain. With her other hand, she plunged Imbokodo into the oily substance, the heavy axe disrupting the swirling patterns in the fountain’s basin. The moment the blade touched the liquid, there was a violent reaction—the oily substance hissed and recoiled, the hand releasing Felix and retreating back into the depths of the fountain.

Felix stumbled back, gasping for breath as he clutched his throat. “That… was way too close.”

Corky helped him steady himself, her expression serious. “You okay? That thing almost pulled you under.”

Felix nodded, though he was visibly shaken. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… caught me off guard.”

Corky eyed the fountain warily, keeping her weapons at the ready. “This place is screwing with our heads, Felix.”

Felix straightened up, forcing a grin despite the lingering unease. “No worries. Just a little liquid nightmare. Nothing I can’t handle.”

But as they turned away from the fountain, the walls around them began to shift again, the mirrors reflecting not just their own twisted images, but the images of others—people they had known, people they had lost, all staring back at them with empty eyes and hollow expressions.

“What the hell is this?” Felix muttered, his voice low.

Corky’s gaze flicked to the mirrors, her jaw tightening. “It’s another trick. Don’t let it get to you.”

But even as she said it, the reflections in the mirrors began to move, stepping out of the glass as if crossing a threshold from one reality to another. The room filled with shadowy figures—Echoes of their past, brought to life by Belphegor’s power.

Each Echo was a distorted version of someone they had known—a twisted parody of a memory meant to sap their resolve and break their spirit. Corky’s parents, Felix’s old comrades, all of them were there, their faces contorted with mockery and pain.

“You were never good enough,” one of the Echos hissed, its voice a warped version of Felix’s own. “You’ll never be strong enough.”

“Why do you keep fighting?” another Echo whispered, this one taking the form of Corky’s mother, her voice dripping with venom. “It’s all pointless. Just give in.”

Felix and Corky stood back to back, their weapons ready as the Echoes closed in. “These bastards don’t know when to quit,” Felix growled.

Corky’s grip tightened on her weapons, her eyes blazing with determination. “Let’s show them we’re not the same people we used to be.”

The Echoes lunged at them, but Felix and Corky were ready.

As they fought, the room seemed to shift and twist around them, the mirrors cracking and shattering as the Echoes were destroyed one by one. The oily liquid in the fountain began to bubble violently, the entire chamber trembling as the power of Belphegor’s influence was challenged.

Finally, with a final, powerful swing of Eryx and Imbokodo, Felix and Corky struck down the last of the Echoes. The room shuddered, the oppressive atmosphere lifting as the mirrors shattered completely, leaving the chamber in ruins.

Felix panted heavily, lowering his gauntlets as he surveyed the destruction. “Well… that was a trip.”

Corky was about to respond when the unmistakable sound of fighting echoed down the twisted corridors of the Lounge. The clang of metal against metal, the guttural snarls of demons, and the revving of a very familiar engine.

Corky’s eyes widened in recognition. “Is that… Red Queen?” She glanced at Felix, who was already scowling, his frustration plain as day.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Felix muttered, his voice dripping with irritation. He clenched his fists, the lingering adrenaline from the fight now mixed with a healthy dose of annoyance. “What the hell is he doing here?”

Before Corky could respond, the source of the commotion came barreling through one of the side doors. Nero, looking as confident as ever, Red Queen in hand, its blade still humming from the recent use. He took a quick glance around the ruined chamber, nodding in approval at the wreckage Felix and Corky had left behind.

“Well, well, looks like you two have been busy,” Nero said with a smirk, though his eyes were already scanning the room for any remaining threats. “I got done with the Institute a little earlier than expected. Figured you might need a hand.”

Corky blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “Nero? What the hell are you doing here?”

Nero shrugged, the easy confidence never leaving his tone. “Thought I’d drop in, see how you two were holding up. Looks like I missed most of the fun, though.”

Felix’s jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tightening as he tried—and failed—to keep his frustration in check. “You came all the way here to play hero, huh? Thought we couldn’t handle it?”

Nero raised an eyebrow, the faintest hint of a smirk playing on his lips. “Didn’t say that. Just thought you might appreciate some backup. Can’t have you two getting all the glory, now can I?”

Felix’s eyes narrowed. “We had it under control.”

“Yeah, sure you did,” Nero shot back, his voice laced with sarcasm. “Just like I had the Institute under control—solo. But hey, I get it, not everyone can work that fast.”

Felix bristled, his fists clenching at his sides. “Oh, you wanna talk about speed? How about we talk about how you needed a babysitter in the van earlier, huh? If I hadn’t chucked that artifact, you’d still be drooling on the floor.”

Nero’s eyes flashed with irritation. “You do one thing and you swear you are the shit. Need I remind you that you were the one drowning in trouble back in Limbo City, and who did you call for backup?”

“I called Corky, dip-shit.”

“Yeah but then who did she get to help her?”

“She originally went to get Dante but settled for you. You only feel you have something to prove now because he’s out the picture.”

Ouch.

Felix stepped closer, his posture aggressive. “You really want to do this, Nero? You think you’re better because you’re Dante’s nephew? That doesn’t mean shit out here. It’s about results, and I get them just fine without you hovering over my shoulder.”

“You’re right, Felix. It’s about results. And the way I see it, I’ve been pulling more than my weight, while you’ve been too busy stroking your ego.”

Corky, who had been watching this exchange with growing frustration, finally had enough. What started as mildly amusing banter had spiraled into a full-blown pissing contest, and it was clear these two were more interested in measuring dicks than focusing on the real threat.

“This is ridiculous,” she muttered under her breath, her eyes narrowing as she sensed a shift in the atmosphere. There was a new presence in the air—heavy, intoxicating, and undeniably powerful. A sloth demon, and not just any sloth demon. It had to be Belphegor. The sheer weight of its presence made the air thick, almost suffocating.

Corky tried to get the boys’ attention, but they were still too wrapped up in their argument to notice. She clenched her teeth in frustration and, without warning, clapped her hands over both their mouths and yanked them down behind a pile of plush pillows, silencing them before they could blow their cover.

“Mmmph!” Felix and Nero protested in unison, their voices muffled by Corky’s hands. She shot them both a fierce glare, her eyes wide with urgency, before slowly pulling her hands away.

“Shut up,” she hissed in a low whisper. “Unless you want to get us all killed, keep it down. Look.”

The two men turned their attention to where Corky was pointing, their expressions quickly shifting from irritation to cautious curiosity.

Corky’s eyes widened as she spotted a figure entering the room from a hidden passage behind a velvet curtain. The woman who stepped into the chamber was striking—tall, with curves in all the right places, and a face that could have launched a thousand ships. She moved with a languid grace, her long, dark hair cascading down her back like a waterfall. Her skin was flawless, her lips full and inviting, and her eyes—deep, dark pools that promised pleasure and danger in equal measure.

But Corky knew better. This was no ordinary woman. This was Lamia, the Madame of the Opium Den, a powerful demoness who thrived on the vices of others. Her human disguise was flawless, but beneath the surface, she was a predator, draining the life from her victims as they indulged in their darkest desires.

Lamia moved through the room with a slow, seductive grace, her every movement calculated to draw attention and admiration. She approached one of the unconscious patrons—a middle-aged man slumped in a velvet armchair—and gently traced her fingers along his cheek. The man stirred, his eyelids fluttering as he let out a soft sigh, his body responding to her touch even in his drugged stupor.

“She’s hot,” Felix whispered, his voice barely audible. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Lamia, his earlier frustration with Nero momentarily forgotten.

Corky rolled her eyes, exasperated. “She’s a demon, Felix. And not the fun kind. Keep it in your pants.”

Nero, despite himself, couldn’t help but watch as well. Lamia was mesmerizing, her beauty almost otherworldly, but there was something deeply unsettling about the way she moved, the way she seemed to siphon the man’s life force with just a touch.

“She’s draining him,” Nero murmured, his voice tinged with disgust. “That’s how she feeds.”

Lamia leaned in close to the man, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered something too soft to hear. The man’s breathing grew shallow, his body trembling as if caught in the throes of an intense dream. Lamia’s eyes fluttered closed, and for a moment, she looked almost blissful, as if she were the one experiencing the pleasure.

Meanwhile, behind the pillows, Felix, Nero, and Corky were trying to stay as still and silent as possible, but Corky felt something—a light, almost tentative touch on her leg. She stiffened, her eyes widening in alarm as she slowly turned her head toward Felix and Nero, who were both intensely focused on Lamia.

“Felix,” Corky hissed under her breath, her voice barely above a whisper, “if that’s you, I swear to God—”

Felix glanced at her, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What are you talking about? I’m right here.”

Corky’s eyes narrowed as she turned to Nero, who was still watching Lamia with laser focus. “Nero? Are you touching my leg?”

“What?” Nero whispered back. “I’m not touching you, Corky.”

Corky’s heart skipped a beat, a cold wave of realization washing over her. If it wasn’t Felix, and it wasn’t Nero… then what the hell was—

Before she could finish the thought, the pillows behind her shifted, and something enormous moved underneath them. Corky froze, her mind racing as she tried to process what was happening. Slowly, she craned her neck to look down, her breath catching in her throat as she saw a massive, clawed hand resting on her leg.

“Guys…” Corky’s voice was strained, barely holding back a yelp. “There’s something under the pillows.”

Felix’s eyes widened, his gaze snapping to the pillows behind them. “You’re kidding, right?”

Lamia, completely oblivious to the trio’s hiding spot and the commotion just inches away, gracefully rose from her seat. With a final, satisfied sigh, she glanced around the room, her eyes half-lidded with contentment. Then, without a word, she turned and glided out of the chamber, her silhouette disappearing behind a velvet curtain.

The room fell into an uneasy silence, the only sound the faint rustling of pillows and the occasional groan from the massive sloth demon now fully emerging from its cushioned hiding place. The demon was enormous, with a hulking, doughy body that looked like it had been stuffed into too-tight pajamas. Its skin was a sickly shade of gray, stretched taut over layers of fat and muscle, and its eyes were barely visible beneath heavy, drooping lids.

Felix, Nero, and Corky exchanged quick, panicked glances as they tried to stay as still as possible, hoping the demon would simply go back to sleep. But instead, the giant yawned loudly, its breath reeking of something far worse than just old, stale air.

“Okay, that’s disgusting,” Felix muttered under his breath, doing his best to keep his voice low as the giant sloth demon yawned, its foul breath wafting over them. But before any of them could react, the massive demon let out a satisfied grunt and, with surprising speed for such a lethargic creature, reached out and pulled Corky against its doughy body like she was nothing more than a teddy bear.

Corky’s eyes went wide, her body going rigid as she found herself trapped against the demon’s chest, its massive arm wrapped around her in a disturbingly affectionate embrace. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she hissed, her voice filled with equal parts disgust and disbelief.

Felix, who had been doing his best to stay quiet and composed, immediately lost it. He clapped a hand over his mouth to stifle a laugh, but the sound still came out as a strangled snort. “Oh man, that’s just… I can’t—” He broke off, laughing silently as he watched Corky’s predicament.

Corky, her patience already worn thin by the events of the day, glared daggers at Felix. “You wanna trade places, genius? I’d love to see you deal with this.”

Felix held up his hands in mock surrender, still grinning. “Nah, I’m good. But thanks for the offer.”

Nero rolled his eyes, stepping forward to help Corky out of her predicament.

He carefully approached the sloth demon, mindful of its slow, deep breaths that rumbled through its massive frame. The demon’s grip on Corky was surprisingly tight, but Nero could tell it was more out of a subconscious desire for comfort than anything else. He reached out, gently prying the demon’s thick fingers away from Corky’s body.

“Hang in there, Corky,” Nero whispered, his tone focused. “Just gotta get you loose.”

Corky let out a quiet huff, doing her best to stay still as Nero worked. “Take your time. It’s not like I’m suffocating in here or anything.”

Felix, still clearly enjoying the situation a bit too much, leaned against a nearby pillar, watching with amusement. “You should enjoy it while it lasts, Corky. This is probably the most action you’ll ever get.”

Corky shot him another glare, but it was hard to be too menacing when she was pinned against a demon’s chest like a plush toy. “Fuck you, Felix.”

Nero finally managed to loosen the demon’s grip, carefully easing Corky out of its grasp. As soon as she was free, she scrambled back, rubbing her arms as if trying to rid herself of the demon’s lingering touch.

The giant sloth demon, however, seemed entirely uninterested in attacking them. Instead, it scratched its massive belly with one clawed hand, letting out a low, rumbling sigh. Then, to their utter disbelief, it spoke, its voice slow and lethargic, as if each word was a monumental effort.

“What… do you… want?”

Corky blinked, caught completely off guard by the demon’s question. She looked at Felix and Nero, who were equally stunned. They had been expecting a fight, not… whatever this was.

“Uh… what do we want?” Felix echoed, clearly at a loss.

The demon yawned again, blinking its heavy eyes as if even keeping them open was a challenge. “Why… are you… here?”

Nero, always quick to adapt, took a slow, cautious step forward. “We’re here to take down Belphegor. You know, the demon who’s been messing with this place.”

The giant sloth demon seemed to consider this for a moment, its sluggish brain processing the information at a snail’s pace. Finally, it let out another long, rumbling sigh. “Belphegor… too much work… not worth it…”

Corky raised an eyebrow, her earlier panic giving way to curiosity. “So… you’re not going to stop us?”

The demon shrugged—or at least, it attempted to. The movement was so slow and half-hearted that it was more like a ripple across its massive body. “Don’t care… too tired…”

Felix couldn’t help but snicker. “You’ve gotta be kidding me. This guy’s too lazy to even care that we’re here.”

Nero, though still cautious, couldn’t hide his amusement either. “Guess that’s why he’s a sloth demon.”

The giant demon scratched its belly again, the motion almost hypnotic in its lethargy. “Just… want to… sleep…”

Corky, sensing an opportunity, exchanged a look with the others. “Alright, big guy. How about this: you go back to sleep, and we’ll take care of Belphegor for you. No more noise, no more fighting. You get to nap, and we get to do our job.”

The sloth demon’s eyes slowly—very slowly—shifted from one to the other, as if weighing the proposition. Finally, it nodded, a small, slow bob of its massive head. “Deal… just… keep it down…”

With that, the giant demon shuffled back into the pile of pillows, nestling itself comfortably among them. It let out one last deep, rumbling sigh before its eyes closed completely, and within moments, it was snoring loudly, its massive body rising and falling with each breath.

Felix, Nero, and Corky stood there in stunned silence for a few moments.

“Well… that was easier than expected,” Nero said, shaking his head in disbelief.

Felix chuckled, finally letting himself relax. “I’ll take it. Honestly, I was expecting more lazy demons in this place.”

Corky rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t suppress a grin. “Yeah, yeah, let’s not push our luck. We’ve still got a job to do.”

Nero led the way, his senses on high alert as they followed the path Lamia had taken.

The sound of distant, haunting music echoed through the hallways, a twisted melody that seemed to beckon them forward.

Felix let out a low whistle as they passed a series of rooms, each one filled with patrons who were either unconscious or in various states of delirium, their eyes glazed over as they lay sprawled on plush couches. “Man, this place is like a funhouse from hell. These people look like they’ve been here forever.”

Corky grimaced, her grip tightening on her weapons. “That’s probably because they have been. Belphegor’s power doesn’t just keep them here—it traps them in their own minds.”

Nero nodded, his expression serious as they approached a set of heavy, ornate double doors at the end of the corridor. “This is it. She went through here.”

Felix reached for the door handle but paused, his usual cocky demeanor slipping for a moment as he glanced at the others. “You think she knows we’re coming?”

Corky smirked, though there was an edge to it. “Probably. But that’s never stopped us before.”

With a quick nod, Felix pushed the doors open, revealing a massive, dimly lit chamber that was a far cry from the rest of the Lounge. The room was cavernous, with towering pillars that rose to a ceiling lost in shadow. In the center of the room was a raised platform draped in dark, luxurious fabrics, and atop it stood Lamia, her human disguise now gone.

Her true form was both beautiful and terrifying—a serpentine figure with a long, sinuous body that glistened with scales as dark as night. Her eyes, once alluring, now glowed with an otherworldly light, and her fangs were bared in a cruel, knowing smile. Around her neck and arms, intricate gold jewelry shimmered, catching the dim light and adding to her ethereal presence.

“Well, well,” Lamia hissed, “You’ve made it this far. I’m almost impressed.”

Felix couldn’t resist a smirk. “Almost? Guess we’ll have to try harder.”

Nero stepped forward, Red Queen at the ready. “This ends now, Lamia. We’re shutting this place down and taking Belphegor with it.”

Lamia let out a soft, mocking laugh, her eyes narrowing as she studied them. “You really think you can defeat me? Belphegor has given me power beyond your comprehension. And you—” she gestured with a clawed hand, “you are mere mortals, bound by the limitations of your flesh.”

Corky rolled her eyes, her earlier grin returning despite the danger. “Yeah, yeah, we’ve heard it all before. Can we just skip to the part where we kick your ass?”

Lamia’s smirk widened, her eyes glinting with malicious amusement. “Oh, you’re welcome to try,” she purred, her voice dripping with dark allure. “But first, let me set the mood.”

Without warning, the hookah at the center of the room began to bubble and hiss, the dark, oily liquid inside boiling over as thick, aromatic smoke poured from its ornate spouts. The room was instantly filled with the intoxicating, cloying scent—an overwhelming blend of sweetness and spice that wormed its way into their senses.

The smoke was heavy as it curled through the air, it wrapped around them like a soft, warm blanket. Nero, Felix, and Corky immediately felt its effects. Their limbs grew heavy, their minds foggy, and the room began to blur at the edges. It was like sinking into a warm bath after a long, exhausting day—inviting, comforting, and so, so hard to resist.

“Not… again…” Nero muttered, his voice thick and sluggish as he fought to stay awake. He could feel the pull of the smoke, a deep, insistent tug at the back of his mind, urging him to just close his eyes and let go. But he couldn’t—he had to stay focused, had to fight through it.

Corky blinked rapidly, trying to shake off the encroaching drowsiness. “This… is bad…” she mumbled, her words slurring as her eyelids grew impossibly heavy. Her body swayed, her grip on Gladius loosening as the smoke worked its way deeper into her system.

Felix gritted his teeth, his fists clenching in a futile attempt to resist. “We… can’t… let her win…” he ground out, though the fight was quickly leaving him. His vision swam, the world around him tilting as the overwhelming urge to sleep took hold.

Lamia watched with satisfaction as the trio struggled against the inevitable, her eyes gleaming with triumph. “Poor little hunters,” she cooed, her voice echoing through the haze. “So brave, so foolish. But you can’t fight what’s already in your mind, what’s already in your blood. Just sleep… let it all fade away…”

Nero’s grip on Red Queen tightened, his knuckles white as he tried to resist the pull of the smoke. But it was no use—his limbs felt like lead, his thoughts sluggish and incoherent. He could feel himself slipping, his consciousness drifting further and further away.

“I won’t… let you…” he murmured, but even as the words left his lips, his vision darkened. The last thing he saw before everything faded to black was Lamia’s smug, victorious smile.

Felix and Corky didn’t fare any better. Corky tried to raise her weapon, but her arm wouldn’t cooperate, her muscles refusing to obey her commands. The room spun around her, the colors blending together in a surreal, dreamlike swirl. “This is… so messed up…” she managed to say before her knees buckled, sending her crumpling to the floor.

Felix let out a low growl of frustration, his body swaying as he fought against the sleep that was rapidly claiming him. “I’m… not… done…” he rasped, but his eyes were already closing, his resistance crumbling away. A moment later, he too collapsed, his body falling limp as darkness claimed him.

The room fell silent, save for the soft, rhythmic bubbling of the hookah and the gentle snoring of the three hunters, now sprawled across the floor in deep, dreamless slumber. Lamia’s laughter echoed through the chamber, soft and sinister, as she watched her enemies succumb to her power.

“Sweet dreams,” she whispered, her voice filled with malice. “When you wake, you’ll belong to Belphegor.”

But even as the darkness closed in, a small spark of resistance remained in each of them, buried deep within their subconscious. The fight wasn’t over—not yet. But for now, all they could do was sleep, trapped in the grip of Lamia’s insidious power, as the battle continued in the world of dreams.

[rosewood-multifandom-writer]

My predictions for gaming in 2024:

The microtransactions are not going away, in fact I think at best, it will remain the same, or at worst, one of the video game companies pulls an EA to make you get a DLC for a DLC. Unless that happened in 2023 and I just haven’t heard of that until now.

Capcom will announce a new project for at least one of their big cash cows (Resident Evil, Street Fighter, Ace Attorney, Devil May Cry, or something else) only for that project’s release date to come out in 2025 or later.

More games will be announced despite the game’s release date being set in 2025 or later.

Capcom will make the rare video game company move by listening to its fanbase. (I see this being the least likely of the predictions here, but considering that Capcom has given the ladies a chance in Resident Evil Death Island and before that, made DMC5 years after DMC fans expressed their hate towards DMC: Devil May Cry, and fans have done a survey on what Capcom’s next game should be, I will take this into consideration, but my expectations will still be low.)

EA will put yet another DLC in the Sims 4 that either should’ve been in the game to begin with or is just cosmetics.

More buggy and glitchy messes for games will either win or be nominated for game of the year somehow.

Another scam which will be similar to The Day Before situation all over again.

Another voice actor with an ego will try to boycott a game while the staff of the project are under NDA contracts.

2024 will be Princess Peach’s year with her upcoming game.

Call of Duty Modern Warfare 3 2023 will have a new celebrity operator.

Weird controversies will come out of one of the new games.

More leaks of upcoming and/or hyped up games.

Detective Pikachu 2 will be the same with slightly different game mechanics.

Nintendo will pull a Sony with their Online Membership and boost up their Online Membership price. (I would hope this wouldn’t be the case, but it might happen considering that Nintendo is an example of success can make someone lazy and greedy)

Fans demanding better quality games that aren’t glitchy unfinished messes.

2024 will be the year for indie developers.

Konami, the same company who made Metal Gear Solid and Silent Hill will put trigger warnings in Silent Hill 2 Remake. They’re already planning to put trigger warnings on MGS3 Remake, so I see them doing the same to Silent Hill 2.

Which leads me to my next point: trigger warnings are now expected and demanded by people who don’t have to engage with any of the games that have specific themes. The ESRB rating’s system is there for a reason. Read it from top to bottom. Read it top to bottom 10 times even, I do not care, it is so sad that it needs to be said that the developers and creators of games do not condone any of the dark content in their games. But people made out of sugar glass who don’t have to play the games will demand it anyway and it will further change the gaming atmosphere in a negative way.

[omorinintendoswitchedition]

I pitched the ideas I sent you about a DMC 1 remake in the capcom showcase survey.

doin god’s work 🫡