#fic: ebony & ivory

[skull-bearer]

Ivory Blood and Ebony playlist part 1

Fortress by Queens of the Stone Age

Definitely THE theme song for the series rewrite. I can just imagine them both singing this to each other as the intro plays. The best part is that it applies to both of them equally.

I don't want to fail you so I tell you the awful truth Everyone faces darkness on their own As I have done, so will you

Love it. Perfect.

Black Velvet by Melissa Etheridge

Definitely my theme song for this pairing. Slow, sweet and seductive. One of the original picks for this playlist, going back to 2003 or something stupid.

Appels and Oranjes by The Smashing Pumpkins

Another I could run as an intro song for this fic if it was a TV series. A series of questions the characters will definitely be asking themselves again and again as the series progresses.

If I had a Heart by Fever Ray (yes, the Viking intro song)

One for the beginning of Enigma here, that hunger, the need to dig deeper, find out more. The slow build up of feelings and love. The fear of pressing further into the unknown.

Star by Star by the Kovenant

Those who read the original of the series will recognise this one :P I used to have snippets from songs at the beginning of each chapter, and this was the song I used for the original Enigma. While it doesn't fit so well now, these words still work very well:

So much alike are we When I see you I see me

Which Witch by Florence and the Machine

THE Dalamar song for me. Definitely coming at the end chapter of Enigma, where we see his POV for the first time. The anger, the determination to fight even when it seems hopeless, the refusal to be beaten down despite everything he's faced. The scars of exile. This is Dalamar.

Now's the Only Time I Know by Fever Ray

Probably the theme song for Ice and Steel, but particularly poignant for Dalamar. The sense of holding on to this one moment, and trying not to think of the future or past. The quiet domesticity and peace after so much pain.

Settling down Door and room Keep it tidy Keep it like home

Now's the only time I know.

Touch me, Feel Me by Darude

One of the sex songs. Something slow and tender, but still new to both of them. Early in Ice and Steel, when they're still learning each other.

Northern Soul- The Verve

One of the old ones from the original version of this fic. No longer fitting quite so well, but it still works from the middle of Ice and Steel, when they're starting to yearn for something more than just this quiet life.

Love by Lana Del Ray

Very much an early relationship song, probably more for Raistlin. He's still stunned by the fact that he's in love and it really is this good. Very much fits the chapter when Raistlin brings Dalamar home for the first time, the balance between the presence and the past.

Electrical Storm by U2

Another one from the originals, but still fits well for the rewrite. One for when they are dreaming of the future in ice and Steel, looking to the horizon and imagining what's out there.

White Flag by Dido

I will certainly go down with this ship :P. Another original, fitting well for those harder moments in Ice and Steel, particularly after Haven and the showdown with Caramon . Quiet moments of being together despite the problems.

Like It's Your Last by Devil Sold His Soul

Theme song for the first part of Raistlin's Test, and also for the first chapter of Salvage. This is grief encapsulated into a song. This everything they've lost or thought they've lost, and the determination to keep going despite it.

He's Evil by The Kinks

Fistandantilus intro song. That is all.

I always imagine Raistlin and Dalamar singing it to warn Palin while Fistandantilus strolls across the stage in the background going 'yep, that's me bitches'. But it plays whenever he turns up, the evil fuck.

But he wants your body and not your mind He is just the devil in disguise He'll drag you down and he will make you cry And once you're in there will be no getting out So look out, look out, look out Look out, look out, look out He's evil, he's evil, he's evil, he's evil, he's evil He's evil, he's evil, he's evil, he's evil, he's evil

Fistandantilus: That's me bitches.

Figurehead by The Kovenant

Another Fistandantilus theme song. This time from his POV. This is something I listen to to get inside his head. That utter focus on his one goal, even to the point of it being almost pointless. Because under all the plots and snark and cruelty- he really is dead, and this is the only thing he's got left.

In Vain by Fifth Amendment

An original, but a perfect fit for the end of Ice and Steel. After everything, what was it all for? So much pain and suffering, and no sign of it getting better, but needing to carry on anyway. Acts as a bridge to the first chapter of Salvage as well.

Things we Lost to the Fire by Bastille

100% Salvage theme song. Pretty much says it all, really. Everything they've lost, and what they can make of what's left. And at the same time comforting, because there are still things worth living for even after you've lost everything.

Cities in Dust by Siouxsie and the Banshees

The theme song from the original Engraven. Still fits very well for the scenes of exploring the shrine, and dreaming about what was lost. Almost word for word perfect.

This Wheel's on Fire by Siouxsie and the Banshees

Another original, very fitting for the end of Salvage, closing off the cave and as they're making plans for the future. More hopeful than how it started.

Man That You Fear by Marilyn Manson

An original from when I was writing Raistlin's Daughter. I had it on repeat while I was hammering it out in 2005. Still very fitting for Winter's Daughter, very much from Dalamar's POV.

Land's End by Siouxsie and the Banshees

Another original, but very fitting for the beginning of War Wounds. Trying to rebuild in after one disaster and another, holding together what you have, having lost so much.

Bird with a Broken Wing by Owl City

Very much Raistlin's theme song for War Wounds. Beaten and bloody, but starting to find that indomitable strength inside him. Finding hope again after everything, and starting to believe he can fight the many many enemies around him.

Howl by Florence and the Machine

This is Dalamar's theme tune for War Wounds and Crepuscule. The point where he just stops caring about anything but everything that's trying to kill him and his boyfriend and just goes fucking feral. Also doubles as a sex song :P

Hurricane Drunk by Florence and the Machine

Pretty much the theme song for Crepuscule. The constantly fighting, everything falling apart around them, every time hoping this is as bad as it can get, and then it gets worse.

We Only Come Out at Night by The Smashing Pumpkins

Very much one for the opening of Crepuscule. The dread of coming back to somewhere you know, and the need to help each other against the pain. Some comfort in the middle of this mess.

Thy Beauty in Candlelight by Ancient Ceremony

This is a special case, both original and rewrite. It's just part of the song, the instrumental part from 03.00 to the end. This is the soundtrack to the black dragon attack in Xak Tsaroth. There's the tremors as the tension builds, the sense of something rising up at 04.15, and it breaking free form the well at 04.25.

[heathsbitch]

serenity*

• pairing: kaz brekker x black!reader

• requested: Yes

• warnings: oral (m on f), poor proof reading (as usual)

• word count: 599

• a/n: She's back! Again! S2 has pulled me from the depths and hopefully, I will be uploading more regularly. Please keep in mind that in this fic, the reader and Kaz are in an established relationship and have worked through his

Tension crept across the muscles in his back, bright eyes heavy with fatigue; he dragged himself back to the Slat, craving nothing more than rest and relaxation, preferably between the legs of his lover. The job had been tedious and gruelling, punishing for every crow – mistakes came easily to all of them, but Kaz scolded himself, believing it was his fault so many things went awry. He wasn’t focused, his mind wandered on an entirely different plane – lost in thoughts of what it would feel like to peel the clothes off his lover. It had been both a blessing and a curse to ask her to wear that dress. That white dress. The dress that hugged her form, pulling and embracing every one of her curves. The ivory dress that complimenting her ebony skin perfectly. He couldn’t help but let his eyes deviate from the locks he was tasked to pick.

Kaz was tempted to scour the streets of Ketterdam in search for a painter, a sculptor, anything that would allow him to capture the picture of his lover in that dress. But he knew nothing, no one would be able to encapsulate her beauty, the sheer sensuality of the thin fabric that caressed her skin. He thought she belonged in a temple; the very picture of some ancient deity, made to bring men to their knees, made to be worshipped. And Kaz had every intention of doing so.

The second they returned to their shared room, their sanctuary away from the prying eyes of the Barrel, Kaz’s hands found the material of her chalky dress, allowing himself to indulge in the sight one last time before he met the bare flesh of her shoulder. He took pleasure in the sight of his pale fingers pressed against her dark skin, pawing and squeezing every inch of her. His name fell from her lips like a prayer as his mouth followed in the wake of his hands. Wet, open-mouthed kisses met her body as the dress was gradually peeled from her form.

“Someone’s eager.” Kaz’s lover giggled as she was ushered towards the bed. “Is there shame in wanting to worship a living Saint?” He muttered against her lips after placing a tender kiss to them. “My, my,” She teased, “ I never took Dirtyhands for a religious man,” He lightly nipped her hip with his teeth, scolding her for her taunts. “You wanted to worship me? Then worship.” At her command, she spread her legs, presenting her already-dripping core to her lover. He stared like a man starved, fingers digging into the sable flesh of her thighs.

“Fuck,” He whimpered into her slit as he licked a long stripe from her entrance to her bug, revelling in the sharp gasp that escaped her throat. The moans and whimpers that left her only spurred Kaz on further, grasping her by the apex of her legs and tugging her body closer to his further. Tongue diving deeper, dark eyelashes fluttered shut as his hips rutted against the sheets below him; he found his own pleasure through worshipping his goddess. All the stress from the day languidly vanished, replaced by desire, a burning lust for his lover. From the moment he saw her in that white dress, Kaz knew he yearned for nothing more than to escape back to the Slat with her, to find peace between her thighs. His wish had been granted, by the Saints or perhaps the deity squirming under the work of his tongue. Bliss washed over the pair, both of them finding serenity within one another’s pleasure.

You can find my other Kaz (and other Grishaverse) writings in my Masterlist.

[yeyinde]

I saw ur reply to doll maker ghost and now im giggling and kicking my feet, getting noticed by your favorite author gives you such a high lollll

And im also going crazy that you are going to write it omg can't wait to read the horrifying story you will create i love u

I'm a big fan of morute so had to find a way to combine both of my interests. I just imagine that everything Ghost creates in his shop are a reflection of his soul therefore they are disturbing and ugly but not you, because you were created by the image of someone he loved. And this love obviously was a sick obsession.

Anyway i love you and your writing!!!

someone replied with Galatea and Pygmalion and now i'm 2k into this fic already lmao but thank you!!! i'm glad you're excited for it because i'm having a tonne of fun writing it.

here's the lastest little snippet for ya:

“That's it,” he says, words drawing over your shoulder in a breath as he watches your hand explore the new parts of yourself that he made.

Carved hollow spaces in the gaps between your ribs wide enough for his desire to fit. Pretty face hewn together from redwood, ebony, encased in satin. Velvet to the touch. Copper sutures keeping you whole. Handmade wonder in spun silk.

(Plaything. Make-believe lover. Her likeness rots in you.)

The most notable of these changes is the softness at the apex of your thighs that throbs, empty, just for him. “Go on, pet. Touch yourself."

He seems content today to be the spectator. To watch you fumble with the newness of your body; this prison of flesh that makes you long for your old heart of leaves and twigs stuffed inside the chiselled oak of your bones. But trepidation thickens in your throat.

You've never done this before. You don't know where, or how, or what to touch. It's all so—

Foreign. Vulnerable. Fragile.

(soft. wet. tensile.

you fear you'll break if you touch yourself too roughly. a worry he put to rest last night—)

The heart that thuds, wetly, in your chest. In your ears. Your throat. The uncomfortable fill of your lungs inflating with the stale air of his shop, pressing taut to your bones. The hunger in your belly. The wetness in your eyes. Silken flesh folded over iron bone.

“Simon—” you start, but he huffs in irritation, buries his teeth into the tender meat of your shoulder, biting hard into supple veal.

It hurts. The pain a lick of something you haven't felt since he laid you down on the table in the lab, parted your thighs, and rutted between them like beast. A pinching sort of pain. Deep and vicious. One that hurts the most when he pries himself out of you, unhinging his jaw until his teeth are unglued to the torn flesh, dragging against the jagged wound. 

In response, you whimper, fingers curling into tight knots on your lap. It was better, you think, when you were soldered copper between oak and ivory.

“I don't know how—”

He shushes you, dragging his clothed nose over puncture wounds. “Jus’ like you used to, pet.”

Your throat closes up. He speaks of this person, this you, with such devotion that sometimes it frightens you. Scares you down to your very core—an irony, you're sure, since it was made by his hands. 

And you feel the brag of it deep in your chest. A thrum that reverberate through the old bones you were cobbled together with: an atavistic fear. Deep, unending disgust.

You swallow down the bile that rises in your throat, and wonder what he'd do if he knew the person he's so obsessed with didn't seem to like him very much—

[poetpony6890]

Star filled nights - A Kitty fic

—————————————————————————

After having kissed the man who he had been pining over for the last five years, Kit sprinted away violently. At least this time he hadn’t escaped to the other side of the globe.

Yet he kept his word and of course later made his entrance into the grand hall of the french manor, dressed clad in the masquerade attire.

Catching a glimpse of himself in the hall mirror as he strode in, Kit checked himself out, his pressed gold and ocean suit patterned with swans floating around in a hue of waves. With a matching masquerade over his light eyes.

As his father had taught him to do well finding someone in a crowd, he stayed as far away from people has possibly without looking suspicious, so as a young woman carrying a circle tray filled with bubbling champagne passed by he grabbed one.

Then filtered his way to the stairs of the overlooking balcony to watch the titled ball room below, where danced many, fae with long draping gowns swirling around them as their partners spun them, vampires with sharpened fangs playfully snapping at the werewolves on the other side of the room.

One suit stood out to Kit, the one he had help picked out, crimson and ebony details weaved through the crowd, slowly Kit made his way down the stairs. Watching as the suit made its way towards the longer table filled with treats, before he could cross the floor, a hand clapped onto his back.

“Rook! What are you doing here?!” A voice asked, Kit turned around to see one of his life long complains, Lyall wearing an ivory suit with a polar bear mask.

From behind him a matching brown bear stuck to the other side of him.

“Kit! How are you, man!” Steven called, brining Kit into a tight but quick hug.

“I’m good, guys. A bit busy-“

“So you taking over your dad business is what I’ve been hearing?” Lyall asked, wrapping his arm around him and brining him out towards the main hall of the building.

“No- no I’m done with that.” Kit stated, as they brought him into a darkened room, covered him soft velvet curtains, a metal pole in the middle, lamp lights illuminated the curved body of the woman wearing a raven mask, lace covering slight parts of her.

“Have a seat.” Steven told, stretching his hand out towards the love seat facing a silk mat with various pillows in the other side of the room.

“So, what have you been up to lately? We haven’t seen you in forever.” Lyall asked, sitting down beside him, as a few of the girls on the other side watched intently.

“Uh- good.” Kit replied, as Steven’s arm came down beside him and placed a drink into his hand.

“Like what you see?” The girl asked, as Kit kept his eyes glued to her, she swung one of her long legs in a semicircle.

“Uh- maybe.” Kit stalled slowly as Steven sat down beside him with a matching drink.

“So, what brings you here tonight?” Lyall asked, as if on cue the door the room opened and in came a crimson lion lace mask, the one he had picked out mere hours ago.

“Hello? Rook you there?” Steven asked, tapping his shoulder lightly.

“Yeah, yeah, just having some fun.” Kit replied casually, taking a sip from his glass.

“That’s what I like to hear!” Lyall exclaimed, Kit watched as Ty sat down next to someone he apparently knew, followed by an olive skinned fox in a three piece suit and leather boats.

“We should go do those shots with Eiron later, said he had some faerie kush or something! Might want to get to that before he meets some vamp girl.” Steven whispered, from the other side of the room, Ty bend his head down as the girl next to him said something.

“Hey, baby we’re bouncing.” Lyall called out to the woman wrapping herself around, she waved with one of her hands.

As all three of them walked out, Kit glared back at Ty, eyes wider than the moon in the sky.

As they approached the seating area near the balcony, Lyall and Steven both sat down as Kit stood up, as Elion saw him, dressed as an elephant, he jumped up and hugged him.

“Kit! I haven’t seen you in so long!” He rushed, making sure not to burn him with the cigarette he had lit in his right hand.

“Hey, what’s up?” Kit asked, sitting down beside him on the flannel couch.

“ Same old, I can finally work now! Me and my Dad got this stall set up and we sell-“

What stopped him from going on was a collection of much more expensive looking suits, from the end of the couch, Steven shifted in his seat to conceal his waistband, which held a gun with a hidden flashlight attachment.

“Howdy officers.” Steven started.

“Shut up Steven.” Lyall ordered, waving them both along, once again, Kit was enchanted by a pair of stony eyes, awesome cheekbones and slightly smug expression.

“Run along now, I know I have my rights.” Eiron declared, from the arm rest a fellow fae know as Odhran laughed, dressed a an English bulldog.

Both of the men walked away, going towards the out stretching balcony lit by the flame of the stars.

“I’ll-“ Kit started, standing for a moment only to be pulled back down by Lyall.

“Don’t go picking sides now, Rook.”He dropped a tone, placing his hand on his hip to reveal a glock.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Kit stated, even if he had his own gun concealed by the huge tail on his waist, he knew that Lyall would be almost a hundreds percent more likely to use it.

So this is how Kit found himself still on the couch thirty minutes later, many shots with Lyall and Steven, a joint slips with Eiron and a dance with Odhran which Eiron tried to help from afar but was covered but the sound of Lyall and Steven laughing.

Finally, he was out on the balcony sharing a seelie cigar with Eiron.

“ I can’t believe you actually said that to him.”

He giggled, Kit tuned out the rest of what he was saying as he spotted Ty, whispering again to the fox.

Upon finally having chance to speak to him, Kit began to approach.

“Oh- ok then.” Eiron stoped, moving alongside his companion.

“Hey, Ty.” Kit greeted, as Eiron eyed down the two, spending a bit more time admiring the detail in the foxes suit.

“I am Eiron, pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He greeted, holding out his hand for the fox suit to hold, put he only shook it lightly.

He was really intended that he kiss it, and he had just embarseed him self, but neither Kit or Ty paid mind to them.

“ I’m really sorry if I made things weird between us or if I confused you in some way, I didn’t mean to, and if you don’t like boys or you don’t like me-“

He was cut off by a pair of soft lips meeting his own, gently Ty wrapped his arm around Kits neck, as his hands made their way into his scalp, fingers touching each strand.

“Care to dance?” Eiron asked, interlacing his hand with the other man’s before he got an answer.

When Kit and Ty finally got off of each other, Ty leaned on the edge of the balcony.

“So, did you find out anything on our missing werewolf?” Ty asked, looking into his glowing eyes.

“He’s Steven’s stepmothers brother. From what I hear he has been missing almost three months. Before he died some vampires saw him leaving the bar with an unseelie fae, no one believed them.” Kit whispered.

“ You smell like cinnamon.” Ty commented.

“ yeah that’s the weed.” Kit replied causally.

“What!?” Ty asked, a bit shocked but not totally surprised.

“I love you?”Kit wondered.

“You’re so confusing.” Ty stopped.

“ I get that a lot.” Kit muttered.

“Will you still help me?” Ty whispered

“Of course I will. I’d help you if it was the last thing I do. I’d let a zombie eat my brains for you but you have to promise you’ll shoot me before I start eating other people. Maybe cry on my grave.” Kit stated jokingly.

“I can do that.” Ty replied seriously.

“Good we’re all set.” Kit added.

“Not so fast. One of you, not going to say which one, is meant to be in rehab. In London.” An older voice called out from the French glass doors.

“You’ve been in rehab?”Ty questioned,Kit slowly turned around and faced his new current enemies, a calico cat and a grey gemstone city rat.

“ It’s a long story.” Kit tried to explain but it he grown too tired of the same fake excuses.

“Come on man, busting out of rehab is just lame. What do you have to do all day? Colour?” An angry tone voiced, coming beside Simon dressed as a zebra, smoking a lit Paul mall.

“Oh really your gonna talk Jacob?” Kit sassed.

“YES I AM!” Jacob shouted loudly.

“Come on, Kit. Party’s almost over anyways, the dogs gone missing.” Magnus called, holding out his arm for Kit to link with as Simon waved Ty to follow and Jacob gave the rest of the cigarette to a known vampire friend of his.

“Why is it always the animals?” Kit asked, most times if a party wrapped up steadily, something had gone missing and no one wanted to take the blame for it.

“Why wouldn’t you tell me this when I asked you to help me, Kit? Do you understand the position I’m in now?” Ty somewhat shouted as they got onto the sidewalk on the other side of the mansion.

“69?” Kit asked.

“Are you fucking kidding me!? Do you really think that’s funny?!” Ty exclaimed as Simon came to stand in front of him and Jacob rushed to avoid the leaving cars.

“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to know!” Kit screamed, as Magnus sighed and sat down on the grass of a nearby lawn.

“You should have fucking told me! Do you know what Jem and Tessa are going to think of me now?!” Ty screamed back, causing Jacob to try and get Kit as far away as possible.

“I don’t give a fuck what they think! They aren’t my fucking family and you know that as well as I do!” Kit kept barking, pushing Jacob off of him as he tried to lean him to walk.

“Yes they are! They take of you, they feed you, you have a room in their house!” Ty argued, as a the ground beneath a nearby car began to shake.

“I’ve never had any fucking family! My mother packed up and left and don’t you tell me it was for the better because I will forgive her for leaving me in that house with my dad! The only thing I’ve ever come close to is living with the Armas and that was because my fucking father was in jail!” Kit screamed, as the ground began to open under the car, causing Magnus to jump up and run towards the road.

The rat grabbed Ty and dragged him towards the road as well, followed by Jacob who pushed Kit, as the split widened enough for a few people to stop and come up to the scene as the car was swallowed.

“What’s going on?!” A gentle voice came, rushing towards Kit and placing her warmed hands onto his cheeks, from his confused state Kit locked into a pair of ebony eyes, covered by a soft gray mask painted and gemmed as an elephant.

The hole didn’t stop as Kit began to calm down, realizing the destruction was at his own hands.

From the movement of the surrounding area, a gray hound arose from the shadows, trying to jump around the hole but only gave out a final bark as the hole swallowed with Kits calm.

“I found the dog.” Jacob commented as Kits eyes swelled with sudden tears, Thea wrapped her matching silk scarf around both of them.

“Oh fuck we have to go! I was paid 50 fucking bucks to find that dog!” Basil yelled as both he and Kit began to sprint as a booming voice began to scream out.

The rest of the group quickly followed behind them, indulging now Anuish and Eiron who had come sometime around when the fight on the sidewalk began.

They all stopped as Kit plopped down on a street sign enough blocks away that they were sure the warlock would not run after them.

“ I killed that dog.” Kit sobbed, as Thea rubbed his back gently.

“I know this isn’t a good time but we really have to get you back to Jem and Tessa’s.” Magnus declared.

“It was just a dog.” Jacob commented, from behind Kit, Basil shook his gingerbread head.

“Where’s that shadowhunter?” Eiron asked, as both Ty and Anuish had disappeared during the run.

“I told them to leave.” Simon stated.

“WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?!” Kit sobbed.

“Kind of my job,now but whatever.” Simon says.

“You’re clearly in no state to talk to him, Kit.” Jacob deadpanned.

“We both know we can’t send him back to that house.” Thea added towards Magnus.

“What we need to do is take this one step at a-“

“He killed a fucking dog! Without even looking at it, if that is not cause to be send to leave with other fea I do not know what is!” Eiron shouted, although he had unfortunately seen much worse in his many years, the thought of what he now knew disturbed him.

“Stand up.” Magnus ordered, pulling onto Lits sleeve.

“Where are we going?” Kit asked, wiping the stray tears from his face.

“London. Right now.” Magnus stated, opening a set portal for them to use on their journey.

—————————————————————————

Request by @tys-kitty !!

I made this way more angst than it had to be I’m sorry, they did kiss though! That’s more than we’re going to get until TLKOF comes out! (I actually am sorry though) (come out tlkof I need to see King Kieran)

Also this one might make more sense later if you feel me but im going to finish the first chapter of my kit fic which I’ve named ‘ sins of the father’! However school is kicking me in the ass right now but I’m trying!!

[plush4bunny]

POV: you're Gabriel Duvall's S/O taking a picture of him with 2 of your pets - Ebony and Ivory - to celebrate the holidays 🎄🎁 (and probly send back as a card for the folks back home)

from @chrism02's holiday special chapter 🎄🎁 from their fic on Gabriel Duvall called "New Beginnings"

[that-gay-guy-from-hell]

DMC MASTER LIST

ON GOING QUESTION/POLL (I can't actually make a real poll but I want to know some opinions lmao)

All fics are posted here on my AO3, along with other things (like my personal headcanons).

VERGIL ONE-SHOTS:

Stubborn as Always--G/N, Fluff

Si vis amari ama--G/N, Fluff, Minor Angst

Uncontrolled Instincts--Male, Smut, Rut fic.

Sweet Serenade--G/N, Smut (? Vergil "self pleasuring")

Good Morning, my Love--G/N, Smut (Consensual somnophilia)

Tapestry of Leather--G/N, Fluff, Lime (god I'm old)

Student and Teacher--G/N, Flirty Fluff

The Bed of the Blue Devil--G/N, Smut, Rut fic.

As You Wish (Part 2)--G/N, Smut

As You Wish (Part 1)--G/N, Fluff

Despite Your Flaws--G/N, Sad Fluff

What Would They Think--G/N, Angst/Sad, Fluffy Comfort

Without You--G/N, Angst/Sad, Fluffy Comfort

A Devil's Secret Wingman--G/N, Fluff

Phantoms of the Past--Male, Angst, Fluff?

DANTE ONE-SHOTS:

Rough Day?--Male, Fluff

I've Got You--G/N, Fluff, Overprotective Dante

Where There's a Will, Right?-- Male, Angst (kinda), Fluff, Smut; Dante between 2-4

Stuck in a Rut--G/N, Smut, Rut fic.

Deep Regret--Male, Sad, Fluff

A Valentine's to Remember--Male, Fluff, Smut

Song of the Heart--G/N (w/anxiety), Fluff

NERO ONE-SHOTS:

No One Else Can Have You--Male, Smut, Power Bottom Nero, Top Reader, Pre-4 Nero

Wanting--G/N, Smut

Fear of the Devil--G/N, Comfort, Fluff

The Scent of You--Male, Smut

V ONE-SHOTS:

Lineaments of Gratified Desire--G/N, Smut, Handjob (V receiving)

Stuck in a small hiding spot + Injured V (short one-shot answers)

MULTIPLE/OTHER ONE-SHOTS:

Bound by Blood: Reader & Sparda Bloodline (Platonic; comfort, angst, fluff)

STUPID THOUGHTS THAT RELATE TO DMC:

Sin Devil Trigger Vergil's tail

Vergil only has 2 things to his name

Me at Vergil when I found out about Devil May Cry

Screenshot ruining my Bloody Palace run

Vergil right after V and Urizen merge appreciation post

"Bound by Blood" re-write excerpts (semi-gory warning)

"I think I'm pretty good at playing Vergil"

Ebony & Ivory replicas. Plus, Nero and Dante body pillowcases.

How much can the Sparda bloodline lift??

Thoughts while writing a "Nero x Terminally Ill reader" fic

Vergil and Lawn Darts

Vergil tiddies

This is why I love the DMC fandom--Comment thread

DMC 2 "Dante" is actually Vergil

Teeth!

Why do Dante and Vergil in DMC5 look so different?

Can the Sparda-bloodline dance?

Kneeling Vergil

Vergil being sick but also stubborn

Do it for him

A really good Nero x G/N Reader fic (that's not mine) and why my dumbass commented lmao

Eric and Vergil

Vergil's autistic

Sparda twins and leg gaiters

Aro/Ace Dante?

SHOP LAYOUT MAP

ART:

MLP Dante

Semi-spicy Dante (Mature label)

Drifting in the ocean all alone

GOOGLE DRIVE MASTERLIST OF PROMPTS/IDEAS THAT I'LL BE DOING.

Requests are currently closed; I have WAYYY TOO MANY. It might be a while before I reopen them; thank you so much for the support!!

A quick shameless self-plug--I also have a fan-character-based story as well if y'all would consider giving it a look, I'd really appreciate it. It is both here, @adevilsfolly , and on AO3

[searchingwardrobes]

Writing Patterns

Thank you for tagging me, @iamstartraveller776 ! I haven't done a game in ages, and since I'm on my kids' homeschool break, thought I'd give it a whirl.

Rules: list the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern!

Killian wished for the first time for those garish artificial lights of Storybrooke. (From "My Life, My Love, My Lady" complete)

The last time he saw her, he was fifteen hundred miles away from this rocky stretch of beach. (From "No Wives, No Mothers, No Lovers" complete)

Emma saw the rusted shopping cart rattle past out of the corner of her eye. (From "Scarborough Fair" WIP)

yellowbug83: Hi! I just purchased your Falcon as Captain America mini figure. (From "A Strange Way to Fall in Love" complete)

“I am in desperate need of a milkshake.” (From "After I'm Gone" complete)

Emma pulls her gaze away from her binoculars to scowl at the radio as if it's personally offended her. (From "Next Stop Storybrooke" eternally a WIP lol)

“Can we use your bathroom, please?" (From "It's Been . . . a DAY" complete)

The sun rose hot and fast over the Oklahoma panhandle, baking the barren ground with its scorching heat. (From "She Dreams in Color" complete from the CS HistFic event.)

9. When ebony flashes gold, Blood runs cold. When ivory runs red, You’ll be dead. (From "Ivory Runs Red" Complete from the Captain Swan Supernatural Summer event 2021)

10. Bounce left, bounce right. (From "Not the Type" eternally WIP Bring it On AU from the Captain Swan Movie Marathon Event.

The only pattern I see is that I suck at opening lines, lol. (Which I already knew.) #4 and #10 are especially confusing if you haven't read the fic summary, and I'm laughing pretty hard about that!

Tagging @snowbellewells @jrob64 @kmomof4 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @spartanguard

[arctrooper69]

If It's Cracked.... Don't Fix It

A crack fic because I tried to write an angst but I got too sad.... The pain will come later. I promise

Hello! My name is Ivory Lily White Rose Flower Princess and I'm a Jedi with my clone boyfriend Hunter. Well, actually they're all kind of my boyfriends and we all love each other equally. My parents named me Ivory because their favorite name Ebony was already taken by some other weirdo. My middle name is Lily White because of the beautiful long flowing white hair cascading down my back that is as white as a snowy white loth wolf. My parents gave me away to the Jedi. My parents are also dead.

One day, me and the bad batch (who were all my boyfriends) were planning the most daring rescue EVER. Hunter of course kissed me before we left the Marauder. And then Wrecker did too and so djd Tcich and Echo! Their lips were so warm and soft. Except for Echo on account if him being mostly made of droid. But I was still in love with him even though sometimes his metal dongle made it really hard to have the sex (which I had with all of them daily).

But anyway, out spirits were low. Crosshair was still missing. I was partly sad about him because he was my boyfriend once but then he betrayed me like he betrayed the Jedi who were my family (but not my real family because they were dead). We were finally going to rescue Crosshair from the Empire!

We had to be very quiet as we snuck into the large black building that housed most of the Empire's important people but then suddenly the train we were on collapsed and I screamed in agony as my lover Tech fell out of the train. He wasn't dead! Nope. He wasn't dead at all because I could feel it in my heart and the Force told me that he was still alive. I could feel him being alive still. I told this to Hunter but he would not believe me! He told me to stop feeling in the force because it was not real! That made me angry. I did not kiss Hunter that day.

Then finally we were inside the prison where the Empire kept it's secret silence expiraments! Horror filled my souls when I realized that that evil Dr was using the clones for his own evil science pants!

I grabbed Omega by using the Force and Hunter (who was now not angry at me anymore) got Crosshair out of his chains.

Tech ran up to us because he was not dead. The Force had heald his injuries from falling. (And it turned out that he fell directly into a bacta tank that I had somehow brought to him by using the Force. I really don't know how I did that because I had never really been a Jedi that could use the Force very well. I always seemed to get into trouble with Yoda for being defective and the younglings used to laugh at me and call me names. That is why I so quickly became part of the bad batch because they too knew how it felt.

So Hunter and Tech helped out Crosshair while I held Omega in my arms. She was crying.

"Hey!" I yelled loudly at Dr Hemlock.

"WHAT!?" he shouted in confusing as he turned around in anger.

Then I looked him in the eyes and shot him in the face with my lightsaber gun that Tech made me. I was very glad that he was not dead and that I had saved him. His soft lips and ample bottom did not deserve such a death.

Everyone then smiled and clapped because me and the bad batch had once again saved the day and Crosshair was ok and Omega was okay. And Tech was not dead.

THE END

a/n: I'm not ok, please help 😂😅🫤🥹😭😭😭

a/n: also I've never written crack before so don't get mad at me pls 😂 I swear this isn't normally how I write 😂😂

--------------------------------------------------

@zoeykallus @ttzamara @nahoney22 @merkitty49 @viva-la-whump @agenteliix @dumpsters-little-matchbook @nekotaetae @ladykatakuri @loverofclones @heyitsaloy @padawancat97 @jambolska-grozdova @flyingkangaroo @melymigo @rain-on-kamino @jiabeewrites @my-own-oracle @dragonrider9905 @queenofspades6 @ordinarylokix @jupitersaturnapollo @queencousland101 @vampirerouge @southernbaguette @staycalmandhugaclone @dalu-grantkylo @dangraccoon @aconstructofamind

If you want to be on my taglist, feel free to send me a message! Also, asks are open! Reblogging is very much encouraged and it makes me do a happy dance every time any of my writing gets reblogged 😂❤️

[night-unfurls-its-splendour]

When the Longing Returns (Phantom of the Opera 2004 Fanfiction) || Erik x Christine

Ch. 5 Author's Notes

Read the fic here on tumblr or on AO3

◇ She felt intimidated just looking at it, with its dual manuals of ivory and ebony keys; its rows of stops, also capped with ivory; and all its pipes standing proud and erect, like incredibly regular leaden stalagmites, reaching for the cavern ceiling.

A quick and dirty rundown on pipe organ anatomy and terminology, as told by a layman: the console is the main housing for all of the organ controls; the keyboards (or manuals), the pedalboard (basically exactly the same as a keyboard but played with your feet; the pedalboard corresponds to the lowest notes on the bass clef), and the stops.

Each stop corresponds to a set, or "rank", of pipes, and is labelled with what quality of sound or timbre those pipes are designed to produce (e.g. trumpets, bells, flutes etc.) The number of stops on an organ depends on how many ranks of pipes it has. Erik's organ in the lair is fairly small (I'm very much a layman but I would guess it’s a thirty-six pipe organ at most—someone who is better at math than I am can count them).

Each rank of pipes is attached to a wind-box, and Erik's organ design in the movie is fairly unique in that the pipes are spread out in a kind of walk-through labyrinth, rather than clustered together. I have no idea if this design is realistic or viable, but it sure looked good when he walked between them during “Music of the Night”.

All of that should be sufficient that I needn't point out how... just woefully inadequate I find the organ console in the musical. Like, that keyboard, and... what does he only have a stool to sit on? Does it even have a pedalboard? I know, I'm sure there are practical reasons why it is like that, but it doesn't cut it for me, when high schools have done such amazing lair organs as this:

◇ Christine knew music—her father had taught her to read notes before she was even able to read letters

Book Canon: this is direct reference to the book, Ch. 5 "The Magic Violin”:

"This peasant had a little daughter to whom (even before she could read) he had taught the musical alphabet."

◇ "Christine recognized it as a prop table for Violetta's salon in La Traviata."

In English "The Fallen Woman", an opera by Giuseppe Verdi. Based on Alexandre Dumas' stage adaptation of his own novel La Dame aux camelias, La Traviata relates the tragic story of Violetta, an affluent courtesan, and her attempt to settle into a quiet life and marriage with her lover, Alfredo; plans which are foiled by Alfredo's disapproving father.

◇ "The water was on the cool side of lukewarm (of course, he would not give her cold water before a lesson.)"

While it’s extremely important for singers (especially in intensely rigorous disciplines such as opera) to keep hydrated, cold water tightens the muscles of the larynx, making them tense and thus more likely to suffer from vocal strain. Lukewarm or room temperature water is recommended.

Opera singers in general are very restrictive in what they consume in order to keep their voices in peak condition. Caffeine, sugar and alcohol are all terrible for the voice and are generally avoided. If they are consumed it is only occasionally, and never within a week of a performance. Some Opera singers even go so far as to teetotal.

◇ They had listened in the doorway; her father would not take her into the Narthex (directly above which rested the organ loft)

The area directly outside the sanctuary of a church. In classical churches, its original purpose was to provide a place for penitents and the unbaptized (not permitted entry into the church proper) to listen to services.

In modern churches it is still used to refer to the lobby, vestibule, or area immediately outside the sanctuary.

In addition I would like to specify that the main organ loft in the Uppsala Cathedral is indeed located above the Narthex.

◇ Christine felt a thrill that sang in her veins as recognition dawned. She knew this song.

In case it's not perfectly clear, I decided to go full meta here: he is playing the Phantom of the Opera Overture. I watched several YouTube videos of covers to get an idea of exactly what it looks like when this is played. And this particular piece seems horrifyingly complex. I am not joking at all. I really wanted to bring Erik's skill to the fore here, and illustrate, in detail, exactly how much effort and, just, sheer talent is necessary to play his music. 

I decided to use the excuse of its being incomplete to explain why the music ends so abruptly.

◇ The Cahman organ in the Uppsala Cathedral had played liturgical music—sacred and solemn.

The Uppsala Cathedral (or, in Swedish, Uppsala Domkyrka), is located in the center of Uppsala, Sweden, the nearest major city to the village where Christine was born. Uppsala is the seat of the Church of Sweden (Svenska Kyrkan), which practices High-Church Lutheranism.

Designed in the Gothic style by French architects, it is the tallest cathedral in Scandinavia, historical venue for the coronation of Sweden's monarchs, and is the resting place of King Eric the IX, also called Eric the Holy, who happens to be the patron saint of Sweden. His wife, amusingly (if unsurprisingly), was Queen Christina.

The Åckerman Pipe Organ (above, right), which is the current main organ of the cathedral was built in 1871, after our story takes place—Christine and her father would have heard the 18th century Cahman Organ, which the Åckerman was built to replace.

◇ "... it is not in my nature to lie about music to spare anyone's feelings; even yours."

Or as Winslow Leach would have it:

"I would never let my personal desires influence my aesthetic judgement."

I'd love to say this line was an homage to Winslow, but it isn't: I wrote this several weeks prior to viewing Phantom of the Paradise for the first time. Still, the similarity in the sentiment was just too perfect, I had to draw attention to it.

◇ the King of Thulé Aria.

Marguerite's first solo in the opera. Her first singing appearance actually takes place in Act II when Faust, accompanied by Méphistophélès, approaches her, and offers to escort her home; but her sung dialogue consists of only a couplet, in which she modestly refuses his offer.

In the King of Thule Aria, Marguerite is singing to herself, a somber ballad about the King of Thule (hence the name), but continually interrupts herself, thinking aloud about the encounter with Faust, and lamenting that he did not at least give her his name.

◇ The Jewel Song

Marguerite's second major solo, which immediately follows the King of Thule. Siebel (the role Christine has been cast in—see notes on Ch. 4), a youth who is in love with Marguerite, has previously lain a posy of flowers at her doorstep, singing a small solo where he charges the flowers with conveying his love to her. Immediately after this, Mephistopheles places a casket of fine jewelry next to the posy on Faust's behalf. Upon discovery, Siebel's humble flowers are, of course, upstaged by the jewels, and the modest but naive Marguerite loses herself in rapturous fantasies of Faust seeing her so richly adorned. This song foreshadows Marguerite's coming fall into decadence with Faust, as she yields to the deadly sin of Vanity—shortly to be followed by Lust.

Here and here are performances of Faust which I used as reference. The links begin with Marguerite's entrance in scene IV of Act III, but both feature the legendary Samuel Ramey as Mephistopheles, and I highly recommend watching them in full whenever you find the time.

◇ No one who did not hear Christine Daaé sing Faust would be able to claim to know Faust.

Leroux reference: an homage to the rave reviews Christine receives following her Triumph in Chapter 2, "The New Marguerite". The "great critic, P. de St.-V” writes of Christine's debut:

"I am perhaps indiscreet, but only love is capable of working such a miracle, of causing such a drastic transformation. Two years ago, we heard Christine Daaé in her competition at the conservatoire, and she gave us charming hope. What is the origin of the sublime talent she had today? Anyone who has not heard her sing the final trio of Faust does not know Faust: the exaltation of a voice and the rapture of a pure soul can go no further!" [Trans. Lowell Bair, 1990]

◇ "... her vulgar, Café Jacquin caterwauling."

Leroux reference: a popular dance hall of the period. This is mentioned in one of Erik's notes in Ch. 4 "Box Five" as one of the venues Carlotta sang at before she joined the Opera:

"I know what you have done for Carlotta and Sorelli and little Jammes and for a few others whose admirable qualities of talent or genius you have suspected.

Of course, when I use these words, I do not mean to apply them to La Carlotta who sings like a squirt and who ought never to have been allowed to leave the Ambassadeurs and the Café Jacquin..."  [Trans. 1911, Alexander de Mattos]

◇ "Only you can sing Marguerite as she was meant to be heard."

Now, this line is an homage to Erik Destler in the 1989 film starring Robert Englund. It's maybe my favourite non-ALW take on PotO and I appreciate the little references to the source material peppered in. And I just genuinely love Englund's Erik. This is one of the few adaptations that actually includes Faust and is also one of the few versions that actually shows a music lesson between Erik and Christine (it is fairly perfunctory, but at least it's there.)

◇ "... one, who was anonymous, very highly esteemed by the public, and clearly too rich to be bought, had very openly (and accurately) criticised Carlotta's Marguerite as "Rather too splendidly sensuous".

Wow! Lots of Leroux this chapter. Another pull from Ch. 2, "The New Marguerite":

"Up to this point, Christine Daaé had played a merely appropriate Siebel to Carlotta's rather too splendidly sensuous Marguerite." [Trans. Leonard Wolf, 1996].

Now, this judgment in the book comes from Leroux's narrative voice, not from the critic alluded to in my text (though that is also a book reference), but immediately after said critic's rave review of Christine's sudden genius.

Elsewhere in the book, in Chapter 7 (or 8, depending on your translation) "Faust and What Followed", Leroux describes how Carlotta,

"flung herself into the role without restraint of modesty..." according to Alexander de Mattos,

Or, according to Leonard Wolf:

"Intoxicated, gave of herself utterly, enthusiastically, passionately. Her performance was entirely unrestrained and shameless."

What both translators agree on, though, is that Carlotta was "no longer Marguerite, but Carmen." This, of course, referring to Georges Bizet's opera, based on Prosper Merimee's novella of the same name about the Spanish soldier José who is seduced and then jilted by the fiery title character.

I so wanted to include this dig as another critique of Carlotta's turn as Marguerite; unfortunately, Carmen was not produced until 1875—four years after this story is set.

◇ “From the recitatif, 'Je voudrais bien savoir'. Whenever you are ready, Christine."

"Recitative" in English: sung dialogue or soliloquy in an opera (also used in musicals like Phantom of the Opera). Recitatif is used in opera-lyrique, as opposed to the spoken dialogue used in opera-comique.

◇ "Excellent, Christine! Magnificent!" he ejaculated, his voice and expression saturated with an adulation so powerful she felt a fire seem to light in the apples of her cheeks.

I just want to be absolutely clear here;

Ejaculate (Verb)

ejac·​u·​late 

1:  to eject from a living body

specifically : to eject (semen) in orgasm

2 : to utter suddenly and vehemently

◇ Trailing it tortuously along her collarbone, he finally took that errant lock of hair which had distracted him during their lesson, let the kinks of burnt umber silk run through his fingers, and lifted it delicately over her shoulder, allowing his fingertips to graze her skin.

Directly inspired by this moment between Thomas Ambt Kofod and Sybille Glosted during "Point of No Return" (Copenhagen, 2019), which makes me absolutely feral.

◇ "But Erik... had not yet completely lost hold of the good end of his reason."

Really going nuts with Leroux refs but, I just can't resist.

This is not a PotO reference, but reaches into the wider Leroux-verse (And there is an interconnected universe—you can catch Inspector Mifroid, who appears in PotO to investigate Christine's disappearance, in one of Leroux's earlier works The Double-Life of Theophraste Longuet).

"Le bon bout de la raison" or "The good end of reason" is a kind of motto for Leroux's young gentleman detective, Joseph Josephin Rouletabille, who says:

"Reason has two ends, the good and the bad. There's only one which you can depend on with confidence, and that's the good end. One recognizes it because it will not shatter, no matter what you may do or say."

Rouletabille uses this principle to unravel the mysteries of the criminal cases he undertakes to solve; Erik is using it here to help him with the mystery of the advancement of Christine's sexuality.

◇ "On the high platform beyond his bedroom, there sat, what could only be described as, a throne; ornately carved and gilded, with sumptuous cushions of darkest red velvet."

So I was on my... seventeenth watch? Of the movie when I first noticed that, though it gets absolutely NO ACTION, there absolutely is a throne in the lair in the movie.

I don't know if I'm the only one who missed it but I thought I would toss a footnote in here, in case anyone else did.

Part of me wonders, why bother? And why put it so far off to the side? But, oh well. I’m glad it’s here, in my toolbox for potential use in ... future chapters....

[sani-86]

i just finished your fic, weeping, and it was amazing!! i live in Namaqualand but i visited up north for the first time in years and saw a bunch of the sights you mentioned!! My father was a law student at the same school as Ezra. i loved reading a fic set in South Africa, i love our country and im so glad to have found someone else in the fandom <3

Aaaah this is so wonderful, I was beginning to think I’m the only South African in this fandom 😋 please drop me a message if you wanna chat!

I have a few more SA fics if you’re interested - Ebony and Ivory (a companion to Weeping) and A Walk on the Wild Side (set on a game farm in 2020).

Thanks sm for dropping in to say hi!

[haroldherald]

Hi, I'm the Lesharold fics anon. I would love if you show me the AO3 thing. 👉🏼👈🏼

HIII I'M SO GLAD U CAME BACK

i rlly loved this one and recommend it but it is nsfw

[skull-bearer]

Raistlin/Dalamar/Lemuel?

I LOVE IT. My Reverse Bang fic gets close, maybe they will get there eventually. I can imagine when Dalamar and Raistlin get together in Sexcapades, Lemuel will often join them for some threesome love. I could even see Ivory, Blood and Ebony Raistlin and Dalamar eventually coming to include Lemuel in some bed time activities.

Would love it if someone were to write it. We need more Lemuel, and Lemuel needs more love.

[missameliep]

Winter Ask for Prince Hamid×Elizabeth

Number 18 + 19

Hi! Thank you so much for the ask, dear ☺️

Prince Hamid and Elizabeth are my darlings and OTP and I always love talking about them! 😍

18. Who is the best gift giver?

They both are great gift givers (here is a fic about their first holiday together).

While Prince Hamid often aims for the extraordinary and spectacular and his perspicace and exquisite taste in fashion (as you can read here) and luxurious perfumes and oils have greatly pleased Elizabeth and all his loved ones, some of Elizabeth's favorite gifts from him were the simple but special tokens that remind her of their time together (you can read here his choice to celebrate the first days of their marriage). Either with great gift or gestures or simple tokens of affection, knowing her so well as he does, his efforts usually pay off and the presents are a success.

Elizabeth is also a great gift giver (as you can read here). Hamid treasures everything: the miniature she gave him, keeping it close to his heart, and the handkerchiefs she gave him during their first Christmas at Topkapi, inaugurating their tradition of exchanging presents, accompanies him whenever they must part, a reminding that she will be waiting for him. And over the years, she learned from him and came up with grand gestures that meant more than material presents.

19. Who wants a kiss under the mistletoe?

Both? 😁☺️

Even though this isn't a tradition of his homeland, Hamid embraced it with enthusiasm and is much eager with kissing under the mistletoe than Elizabeth ever was. Smiling and puckering his lips for a kiss whenever he diligently tricks her to stand underneath the numerous mistletoes hanging from ceilings and doorways at their home at Edgewater is one of his favorite passtimes during the holidays -- plus he often carries a twig of mistletoe in his pocket to seize any opportunity alone with his wife when their home is packed with their loved ones and they can steal a moment together. Just in case.

Your ask inspired me, and during my break I wrote a little drabble. I hope you enjoy it. ☺️

One long finger slipped and landed on the wrong key, drawing a higher and uneven note from the pianoforte and a frustrated sigh from Prince Hamid's lips. With a sympathetic smile, Elizabeth's hands stopped their effortless dance over the ebony and ivory keys.

The larger hand of the clock has completed a full circle since they sat together by the pianoforte and somehow he is getting worse at it. He almost regrets the idea of performing a duet for their guests after Christmas eve's dinner. Almost. If not for this, they would not be left alone at the drawing room at this time of the day, and his wife would certainly be out and about, running all sorts of errands before the arrival of the first guests of the season.

Aside their breathing, the crackling from the fireplace was the only other sound in the room.

Scooting closer, Elizabeth leaned and rested her chin on his shoulder. "It's all right, my prince. You were gliding beautifully before... Just keep your eyes on the score..."

"How can I do it, when the heavens allowed the most gorgeous angel to sit right beside me?"

"Flatterer," she said dismissively, but the praise made her cheeks bloom like red roses.

Always flattered by this reaction, he chuckled and reached for her hand and brought it to his lips for a lingering kiss.

"I am not," he purred. The warmth of every word fanning her skin. "You are excessively modest. Therefore I took upon myself the responsibility of rectifying that."

He kissed the back of her hand again, and brought it back to rest over the white keys.

"We can start over," she whispered, while correcting the position of each of his fingers, unflattenning them with gentleness. "Remember to curve them. Just a little bit more."

Prince Hamid smiled, admiring her patience. His Elizabeth trusts he can accomplish anything, even playing the pianoforte despite lacking the talent or discipline for it.

Inclining his face towards her, he brushed the tip of his long nose alongside her face and rested it at the top of her head, allowing the rosewater scent emanating from her hair to fill his lungs. When she tilted her face upwards to meet his gaze, he rested his forehead against hers, and swiftly took something out of his pocket.

"Look up."

Elizabeth's gaze darted from his eyes to the twig hanging from his fingers above their heads.

"Oh! Another one?" she asked, "I wonder where this could have come from?"

"It must be a holiday miracle." He grinned at her, and leaned closer. "Won't you honour tradition, hayatım?"

She bit her lower lip, and looked over his shoulder to confirm they were still alone. Then she pressed her lips to his smile, sliding them gently over his lower lip, and pulled away.

Like a magnet, he instinctively followed her lips.

"Satisfied?" she teased.

"Never."

Leaning forward, his lips met hers again. And again. And again. Peppered by giggles, they exchanged soft playful kisses that turned less playful.

Letting gravity have her way, the twig fell to the floor, as Hamid's arms encircled his wife's waist, pulling her to his lap without breaking the kiss.

"My favourite time of the year!" he whispered against her mouth and she chuckled, cradling his face in her hands.

"Mine too, because I have got to spend it with you."

Tagging a few of you who might enjoy reading this: @princess-geek @dianalend @lorirwritesfanfic @noesapphic @lilyoffandoms

[siren-darkocean]

Wanna work on three fics at once on Wattpad but Ik I can't

Fics in Question:

Turned Real (LEGO Hero Factory)

Ebony Ivory (2018 God of War)

Love Matters In Life (Reala X Siren) (self shipping)

[captain-shippard]

I know you mean well but please! It’s not a crime to say black or white or to simply name the person in your fic/novel ! You don’t always need that ebony eyes, ivory shirt, nor purplette girl !! In fact, the more you do it, the worse it is !!!

[fabdante]

Got any headcanons for how reboot Dante got Ebony and Ivory? I can't imagine Mundus would be able to make a fucked up clone (Gilver) of Dante (and/or Vergil) in the reboot. But with Mundus basically running things on Earth and Hell, he wouldn't really need to, to screw Dante over and kill people Dante cares about/that cared about and took care of Dante.

Swan Song (my long, in progress, Kat/Vergil prequel fan fic) had a whole like...very confusing plot line that needs a lot of ironing out about how weapons like reboot Ebony and Ivory work because I spent a lot of time over thinking it rather needlessly.

A lot of this was also to involve Nell Goldstein because I was involving a lot of preboot characters by making reboot versions and I thought Nell was a good one to include to continue the 'Dante Breadcrumbs' plotline going on under the other plot lines, as Kat and Vergil spend most of the plot trying to find Dante which involves a lot of finding people who have any info on him.

Swan Song is sort of my basis for my personal fanon for the reboot. Most of my headcanons are based in it which is why I bring it up as a precursor to what I'm about to say.

Which brings me to my anti climatic Dante and Ebony and Ivory headcanon in the reboot which is just...he bought them from Nell.

I'm under the impression that while Mundus was aware of Dante in the reboot, from what we can gather from things said in game, he hadn't really known where he was until recently. Like there were run ins and likely periods of time where he was aware of where he was but Mundus and Kat both make it fairly clear that the hunter demon at the beginning of the game has only recently tracked down Dante, making Mundus aware of his location again so he can't really send anyone to Dante. So he's not really involved.

Dante, however, wanting protection that can move between Limbo and the real world and function in both, is a very practical desire and one I think he would prioritize. And Nell was a good fit for the weapons smith for that sort of thing.

That and I needed people for Kat and Vergil to find and be like 'have you seen a guy who looks approximately like this very tall pale man?' and get answers that weren't 'no'.