#i'd hoped certain scenes would go differently

[serasfanfiction]

CW for Alastor being Alastor, but that's to be expected. This chapter is all from his POV.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3| Part 4 | Part 5| Part 6 | Part 7 - Interlude

Alastor was having what he might call an exceptionally good day, if he did say so himself.

His mobility was almost back to normal, that pesky little parting gift Adam had left him having practically healed itself overnight. Why, he'd even been able to remove the stitches!

He had seen some improvement over the last month, agonizingly slow as it had been. Consuming the flesh and souls of other sinners had certainly sped things up a bit, but only finitely. He had resigned himself to the fact that healing would be a slow process, especially after the first time he pushed too hard and undid all the work he'd done up until that point. It had grated on him, but he could be patient.

If there was anything he was good at, it was being patient and bidding his time.

Getting a taste of angel's blood, though? Not just a taste, but a real go at it? Oh, now that had changed everything.

He hadn't had a chance at the holy feast following the last Extermination. He'd been too busy licking his wounds and trying not to bleed out. By the time he'd been able to pull himself together, figuratively and literally, the bodies were long gone. There had been claims about the rejuvenating effects some had experienced following eating of the flesh and drinking of the blood, but as it hadn't been a process they could readily replicate, it had done him little good.

Then none other than Lucifer Morningstar had offered himself up, willingly placing himself on the menu.

When the little king had done that little trick, the thought had crossed Alastor's mind. He was only human (deceased though he may be) and this was the father of temptation himself. Granted, it was likely Lucifer was used to being sexually desired, but hunger of a carnal nature had never been one of Alastor's sins. His hunger for the flesh had stopped at the actual eating of the flesh.

And Alastor craved nothing more than he craved the flesh of others like him.

The Wendigo that lay beneath the surface, a very real manifestation of his hunger was now a permanent part of his being. In life, he had hungered for the flesh of humans. In death, while he could still enjoy the odd sinner here and there, it was akin to 'empty calories,' he believed they were called. They curbed his hunger, for a little while, but it never quite seemed to hit the spot.

No, nothing quite filled him up the way venison did.

Before the creation of his bayou, he'd had to rely on the odd deer demon that appeared on the rare occasion. He was hardly the only one, but there never seemed to be enough of them. Butcher shops occasionally helped, but it never seemed enough. He'd been near ravenous towards the end there.

All the while she had been laughing at him. She had known this would happen and she hadn't warned him. One of her little games, letting him think she was giving him what he wanted only to chain him further to her. He had never cursed his deal as much as he had then when she had taken pity on him and taught him how to bend reality on a small scale. To create the bayou - a reflection of the very place where he had died - and filled it with the creatures that were not only necessary to keep him alive, but to allow him to thrive.

So he couldn't help but wonder, while Lucifer flashed those ears at him and called the very features that had nearly undone him 'cute,' how deep did the transformation go? Could a mimic sate his hunger as good as the real thing? The possibility that the seraphim blood might have rejuvenate powers didn't hurt, either.

It would have been everything he needed, served to him in a little red and white package.

It had been pipe dream, he'd thought at the time. Nothing to seriously entertain. Despite appearances to the contrary, he did know he had limits. Adam had just been an oversight. His growth in power had never truly been tested and well.

Lesson learned. He wasn't keen to try his luck just yet, especially not injured and his microphone broken, limiting his power.

But then Lucifer had done something so left field, Alastor still wasn't entirely certain he hadn't imagined it: a trade of his blood for some good behavior. In deer form, no less! The opportunity had been so good he'd had to hold onto his eagerness by the skin of his teeth.

Everything about the experience had not been a disappointment. Not only had he'd gotten quite a bit of entertainment out of the exchange, but it turned out the stories had been true. Within a few short hours of consuming Lucifer's blood, the wound indeed showed marked improvement.

The real treat, however, was that the hunger had indeed fallen silent. Oh, it had returned in due time, but how long it had stayed away! His appetite had only just been seriously returning when the first attack on the hotel happened, providing him with quite the meal and even a handful of angel's blood. He'd felt positively spoiled.

Getting to see the little seraphim in his full demonic glory had been interesting, as well. He'd known Lucifer had wiped the floor with Adam, despite Niffty being the one to kill him, but it was always different seeing it.

This was Hell's King. This was the entity the stories had talked about. All that power, right there on display, and all Alastor had wanted in that moment was to have this being underneath him again. Wanted to see how far he could push. To see how much Lucifer would let him take.

(Alastor wasn't certain what had possessed him to reach for Lucifer in that moment. Wasn't certain what he would have done had the little king decided to take him up on his offer. Had he simply wanted to hold that power in his hands? To burn himself on it?)

And oh, how his patience had paid off.

Such a huge gain and all it had cost Alastor was a night of his company and some information. Information Lucifer really should have already known, at that.

Now, Alastor was full and so very near hale and hearty again. Why, he was close to being able to tackling fixing his microphone soon!

Perhaps if he could have another feeding in the future...

Ah, but it wouldn't do to get used to this. Three times was already far more than he could have ever imagined, plus it never paid to put his wellbeing in the hands of others. They were so often unreliable. There were only two people in Heaven or Hell that he trusted, and neither of them resided in the hotel.

So, Alastor put the idea aside and went about his day as normal. If he had an extra skip to his walk, and his smile a touch more sanguine that normal, to the point he was receiving some nervous side glances, well, all the more entertainment for him.

He was feeling so well, in fact, he felt up to taking a little jaunt to visit one of his favorite people.

Cannibal Town was as lively as ever, despite their numbers had seen some reduction during Heaven's assault on the hotel. Rosie's Emporium, always the main attraction, was not lacking for people lined up to see their Overlord. The line was already starting to snake out the door.

Alastor strolled in, not minding the line in the slightest. Rosie always made time for him.

Sure enough, the woman in question looked up at the sound of the door opening, her ever-present smile widening in delight on seeing him. She never paused in whatever affair she was discussing with her current client, but she did make an effort to finish it up a touch bit faster.

He stood off to the side politely, waiting to see if now was a bad time or not. He wasn't bringing her anything other than his company and this was an impromptu visit.

"Alastor!" She greeted, loud and affectionate. "A visit twice in one month! You certainly know how to spoil a girl."

Alastor felt that little black thing that served as his heart warm with the genuine sincerity being shown his way. He matched her smile with an honest one himself. "Only those who deserve it, my dear, and you always do."

Rosie placed a hand to her cheek, bemused. "Oh, you." She waved over to one of the tables. "Now tell little ol' me what brings you here. You haven't gotten yourself into any more trouble, have you?"

He could hear a hint of concern in her voice and resolved to bring her a gift the next time he came over. "Oh, you know me. I'm always up for something exciting." He let her maneuver him into a chair set up at a table for two. "In this case, I was up for a walk and thought I'd indulge in your company, if you'll have me."

The Victorian Overlord's body language eased ever so slightly, adding to the suspicion she might have been worried. "Always, dear." She pressed a seemingly delicate finger to her lips. "Give me 30 minutes to clear this lot out and I'm all yours!"

He nodded, and she gave him a light pat on the shoulder as she went back to her work, pausing only briefly to have one of her workers send over a pot of tea. He spent the next half hour sipping on the latest delightful blend she was offering, watching the cannibals coming and going. Most were asking for the same thing they always did: someone wanting someone else to disappear, usually in a body bag they would of course hand over to Rosie.

After what he was sure was thirty minutes and no more (not that he would have honestly timed her, why, that would have been discourteous), his fellow Overlord was escorting the last of her clients out the door. Business completed, she turned on her guest. "Now that all of that work stuff is out of the way," Rosie said as she came to sit in the chair across from the redhead, "Come now, tell me all the gossip! Surely something juicy happened with how lively you're looking today."

Alastor supposed he shouldn't be surprised that she had seen through his mask the last time he'd been here. He'd needed to get away from hotel, just for a bit, as the strain of hiding his wound was wearing on him. None of his usual acquaintances had suspected a thing, and he had wanted to keep it that way.

But Rosie was hardly an 'acquaintance.'

He supposed since she knew already, it wouldn't hurt to assure her the worst was past. He also supposed he had a gift for her after all. Lowering the cup to the saucer on the table, he assured, "You could say I recently benefited from a rather unexpected deal recently."

Rosie raised an eyebrow expectantly, "Well, don't keep a girl waiting! Details!"

Because he was a little bit of a drama queen, he waiting until she had raised her own cup to her lips before he stated, "It turns out that all the rumors about angel blood is true, even more so for seraphim blood."

It was only because she had perfect control that she did not, if fact, choke on her drink. Rosie started at him for a long moment, trying to see if he was serious. When it became clear he was, she stated, "Well, shit, you certainly don't go small, do you?" She leaned forward, placing her free hand over one of his. "This deal didn't put you in a tough spot, now did it?"

Alastor's smile softened. "None of that, my dear." He didn't like to touch people, anymore than he liked being touched in return, but Rosie had always been kind to him, so he placed his other hand on top of hers and gave it a squeeze. "All that was asked for was a who's who on Pentagram City's current political landscape."

Rosie tilted her head to the side, the feather in her hat swaying with the motion. When she withdrew her hand, Alastor released it. "Our King is showing interest in his kingdom?" She blinked, more than a little surprised. He didn't blame her. "My, what could have brought this little development about?"

Alastor pulled both hands from the table, a subtle cue he had had enough tactile contact for the day, although he wasn't completely closing himself off from it. "Someone has been sending mercenaries to attack the hotel. Drivel, mostly. Little more than snacks on the whole." He hummed in memory of all the free morsels that had been sent his way, lately. "The attacks haven't done anything, really, other than rile his Majesty up." He gave her a look of amusement. "He's begun an investigation into who might be behind the attacks and asked after us Overlords. I gave you a good word, of course."

It was a testament to how quick-witted she was that Rosie barely blinked over the idea that their sovereign had apparently not only crawled out of the wood work, but was also finally taking an interest in his kingdom again. "Oh, of course you did." She flapped a hand at Alastor. "Do tell him if he ever want to visit, he's more than welcome!"

Alastor made a noise of acknowledgement. "He's quite the character, our king. I'm sure you'd find him... amusing." Amongst other things, he thought to himself as he sipped on the last of his tea.

Ever the host, Rosie noticed. "Oh, dear me, let me refill that." She raised the pot of tea to do so, offering, "You know, I just remembered: we got in a fresh body just this morning. Would you like an arm?"

The redhead considered the request, but found himself much too full. Whatever room he'd had available had already been taken up by his drink. "I thank you kindly for the offer, but sadly must pass this time." He placed his now empty cup on its saucer. "Why, I dare say I might have to wait on another cup of this delicious tea."

Rosie didn't have pupils that Alastor had ever been able to track, yet he had the distinct impression he was being looked up and down. "That blood must have been quite the thing to curb an appetite like yours." She shrugged before pulling over a box of ring fingers. Some even still had the rings on them. "Hm, knowing you, a certain someone might have to worry about her seat - if she ever intends to come back."

Alastor paused. Rosie did that sometimes: said things that threw him for a loop. "What now?"

She waved a finger in a circle to indicate the entirety of her guest, her smile all teeth and knowing. "Come now, Alastor, I don't think I've ever seen you in such a state before. I almost think you have intentions towards the king!"

The redhead tilted his head to the side, considering. Did he have intentions towards Lucifer? He certainly wouldn't mind having another go at his blood. Riling him up had yet to get old.

The urge to hunt, sated though it was at the moment, thrummed through his veins. Here was the ultimate prey, just waiting for the perfect opportunity to turn the tides.

The memory of the smell of apples and something he'd come to associate with Lucifer rose to mind. Of warm, pale alabaster skin beneath his lips. The feel of hands that could so easily crush him carding gently, absentmindedly, through his hair.

For the first time since their little games had started, though, Alastor realized that sitting beside the urge to devour was the urge to keep.

He examined the thought. He meant it when he said he delt primarily in favors. There were so few souls that interested him enough to keep long term. They were usually individuals who ranked as powerhouses themselves. Investments first, entertainment second.

This urge resembled that desire, but not quite. He certainly wanted access to the power contained within that tiny little package that called himself the King, but beyond that, he was beginning to think he might want to own Lucifer in every sense of the word.

Well. That was certainly quite the turn.

He turned his attention back to the world outside his own head, finding his fellow Overlord watching him and patiently waiting for him to sort out his thoughts. "I'm afraid, my dear, I don't have an answer to that, but you have given me quite the food for thought."

Rosie, bless her, didn't press. Knowing how perceptive she was on matters of the song and dance that was interpersonal relationships, it was likely she knew more than he did.

He really was thankful he made an ally of her rather than an enemy.

The rest of their chat was turned to less deep conversation. Soon enough, she sent him on his way, but not before warning, "Now be careful, Alastor. Kitten our King may be, I saw how fierce he can be when pressed."

If it didn't mean acquiring one of those silly picture boxes, Alastor might have been inclined break down and watch whatever that voyeur Vox had filmed of the fight on Extermination Day. Incidentally, his pride point blank period refused to allow him to let such a thing anywhere near his person if he didn't have to. "Don't worry, dear. It's all merely a thought. I won't do anything lest I know there's a chance at success."

That seemed to mull her over. They said their goodbyes, and he was off back to the hotel.

The conundrum that was his entanglement with Lucifer followed him all the way back to the hotel, dogging his steps as he went through the rest of his day. He didn't see the blonde at any point before he retired for bed, which was likely for the best, as Alastor was distracted and unlikely to be at the top of his game.

He didn't see him throughout any point of the following day either, not that he was looking for him. He didn't give it a second thought, not until he came upon Hell's princess halfway into a tizzy in the main gathering room.

"But Vaggie! He hasn't come down in almost two days!" Charlie wrang her hands together, glancing at the ceiling in the general direction of her father's room. "What if something's wrong?"

Vaggie had a hand on her girlfriend's shoulder, as much a comfort as it was a restraint. "What did he say when you knocked on the door?"

The hotel's owner bit her lip. "Just that he wanted to stay in for a bit. But that was yesterday. He didn't even respond at all when I knocked this morning."

"And you're sure he's still here? That he didn't leave?"

Charlie nodded. "His door is locked. He doesn't bother to lock it if he's not in."

Well, that's a silly thing to do, Alastor thought to himself. He filed it away for later. Deciding he was curious enough to join the conversation, especially since it seemed he might have been the last to see Lucifer. It would be bothersome if anyone thought he'd done anything to him when he really hadn't yet.

Alastor allowed his corporeal form to dissipate, only to reform right behind Vaggie. "What's this I hear about our esteemed leader disappearing?"

"Shit!" The fallen angel jumped, just as he hoped. Predictably, she spun around, bringing the point of her spear right up to his nose. "Cut it out, asshole. We don't have time for your games right now."

Alastor smiled down at her, as calm as a undisturbed pond, taking hold of the end of the spear and redirecting it away from his face. "And who's playing around? I heard our dear Charlie in distress and just had to see if I could help in anyway."

Vaggie narrowed her eye at him. One day, he was going to drive her to actually attempt to stab him. It would be such an entertaining day when it happened.

Charlie sniffed. She didn't necessarily look relieved to see him becoming involved, which, fair, but he could see something easing in her stance.

It was such a delight to see how much she'd grown to rely on him.

Stepping around the most hostile entity in the room like she wasn't holding a certified deadly weapon, Alastor came up to stand beside Charlie. "Tell me, do you have any reason to believe something might be wrong?"

She searched his face for any hint of falsehood. Any hint that he might use this against them.

She wasn't going to find any. She was learning to be more cautious of him, but she still had a long way to go before she'd see through his carefully constructed persona.

"Well... maybe?" She offered at last. He could see it in her eyes, her drooped shoulders: a certain helplessness. It was different from the kind that had driven her to make a deal with him. This kind was old, the sort that came from a time before the autonomy of adulthood. Likely this issue had roots in her childhood. "Mom used to say that Dad just kind of shut down sometimes. Worse than normal." She glanced at her girlfriend, likely for moral support, and then back at him. "Mom said it wasn't good to leave him alone during those times."

Alastor pushed down the eager swell that might have given up the game. Was it really going to be this easy? "And you think this might be one of those times?"

She mulled over this. Nodded, and then shrugged. "It's possible, but without getting past the lock..."

"I tried to pick the lock," Angel put out from where he was lounging on the couch, feet across Husk's lap. Husk, curiously, didn't appear to mind.

Charlie winced. "Yes, which is really not good! We shouldn't pick people's doors."

Angel shrugged, unbothered by the reprimand. "Didn't matter, either way. Turns out the door's magically locked." He made a handsy gesture with his top set of hands to emphasis his point.

Alastor looked between the two. "Is it warded?"

Everyone turned to look at him in confusion. Charlie blinked. "Warded?"

Oh, how quaint this lot was. "Magically locking the door means no one can unlock the door without breaking the spell. Unless the door is warded, there's nothing to stop someone from going, say, under the door."

Vaggie crossed her arms, posture irritated. "We can't go under the door, Alastor."

If he had his mic, he might have bopped her on the head just to mess with her. As it was, Alastor settled for smiling ever so sweetly at her as he pointed out, "Ah, maybe you can't, but it just so happens, I can."

Charlie shifted, uncertain. "You promise you won't make things worse...?"

She was so close that he could practically taste it.

Alastor placed a hand on her shoulder, softening his expression. "Now now, dear, we both know your father is hardly helpless. If he doesn't want me in there, he's more than capable of kicking me out."

Vaggie snorted, glaring viciously at him. "Yeah, not that that's ever stopped you."

Charlie glanced at her, warningly, before looking back at Alastor. She sighed and placed her hand over his. Feeling generous, he let her. "Alastor, please check on him, just... don't push, okay?"

Nothing but a formal deal was going to guarantee that, but he didn't have to advertise it. "I promise to be on my best behavior."

Her smile really was like sunlight breaking on the horizon when it wasn't being forced. She jerked forward as if she'd wanted to go for a hug but had aborted it at the last minute. Instead, she squeezed his hand. "Thank you, Alastor."

He disappeared into his shadow, partially to avoid her changing her mind and going for that hug, but also to avoid any further stipulations on his task. Between the quality of his last meal and the leaps and bounds in the healing of his wound, traveling by shadow was almost as easy as it had been before his injury. Seraphim blood was a marvel. It was such a pity that there was so little of it in Hell.

Alastor had studied the entirety of the hallway that made up his and Lucifer's floor along with the rest of the hotel the first opportunity he got upon his return. His inspection had stopped at white doors, whose handles were adorned with the same apple accents that littered the rest of the hotel. As he slipped under them, he could smell the magic on the handles. True to his suspicion, the spell was only on the lock itself, with nothing to guard again something like a shadow slipping right under the door.

It seemed Alastor's self-restraint in light of his injury had paid off, because nothing hindered him in anyway as he made his way into the room of the most powerful being Hell.

Alastor stuck to the outskirts of the room, where the darkest shadows gathered. It wasn't difficult, as most of the room was in shadow, the curtains drawn with very little natural light peaking in underneath them. The room was silent in a way that, at first, suggested that no one was in.

Perhaps Lucifer had gone out and failed to tell anyone, after all?

Tentatively, Alastor returned to his corporeal form, keeping to the darkest shadow the room he could find. When nothing and no one came flying at him, he turned his attention to the room at large.

Overall, the room appeared sparsely furnished. There was a rug laid out in front of the door. Chairs surrounding a table big enough for two over on one side of the room. The fireplace didn't appear to have ever been used, but it was there. A couple of bookshelves and a desk were the most lived in, but that was only because they were covered in small, yellow shapes he couldn't quite make out in the dark. A bed took up most of the final wall. It was perhaps the grandest thing about the room, looking every bit fit for the king who slept in it. Two side tables sat on either side of it, both with a lamp of their own.

As for the king himself, now that he was looking for it, Alastor could see the faintest outline of a shape near the left side of the bed. Creeping closer, he could see a pair of familiar boots and coat laying on the floor. A little closer, his eyes adjusting to the darkness of the room, he could see a pair of mimicked deer ears poking out the top of the nest of blankets.

For a long moment, Alastor simply stood there, looking down at the lump. His ears were strained for the first sign that his presence had been noticed, but so far there had been none. He could feel his grin widening with each beat of his heart that passed. There were so many things he could do in that moment and there was nothing anyone could do to stop him.

There was a part of him, the part that was still human and remembered what it was like to be human, that wanted to finish the job he'd started two days ago. When he'd been alive, allowing a victim to live would have been tantamount to a death sentence. A living victim could become a witness who could identify him to the authorities and then the game would be up.

Lucifer wasn't just a potential victim. He was the authorities. He was the highest authority.

After his death, Alastor hadn't had to hide who he was or what he was like. It was simply a kill or be killed world, where one's continued existence depended on brains and reputation.

And oh what a reputation the Radio Demon would gain, if he took out the King of Hell himself?

The chain - noose - around his neck sat heavy and loud, ever grating against his sanity. The memory of Husk's deal held so easily in a dark grey hand brought him back down to himself. Reminded him why he wanted to keep the little king around.

There was no other reason. There could be no other reason.

He admitted to himself that it might be interesting to just stand there, looming as he waited for Lucifer to awaken. The subconscious was a funny thing and people on the whole didn't appreciate being stared at when they slept. The general consensus was that it was creepy. It was half the reason he enjoyed doing it and it always left the victim feeling off balance. When his majesty continued to not respond, Alastor also admitted to himself that while he did normally enjoy such a plan, he wasn't that patient.

Ready to spring away, if necessary, Alastor reached out until those tantalizing ears were just under his hand. Unrepentantly, he flicked one of them.

The ear twitched violently, the lump beneath the blanket shuddered, ear going flat. Grey hands appeared along the edge of the blanket, pulling it down for Lucifer peer up at him.

The sinner waved his fingers by way of greeting at his king, who stared back at him with a pair of tired, dead eyes.

Lucifer blinked at him, once, twice... and then pulled the covers back over his head??

Alastor felt the glitch to his system, spitting static. Did Lucifer think he could just ignore Alastor and he'd go away?

Oh, no. Oh no, that wouldn't do at all.

Time to throw away the preverbal Nice Guy gloves. He clapped his hands once, sharply, one shadow going for the lamp on the side desk while another went for the end of the covers. With vindictive amusement, the covers were ripped clean off the bed, while the flick of a switch bathed the room in light. A third shadow went for the curtains, yanking them aside to let the afternoon light in. Over the low groans of the bed's occupant, Alastor proclaimed at just high enough a volume to be annoying, "Rise and shine, your Majesty! You've nearly slept the day away, but there's still some time left to enjoy it."

The blonde still didn't look like he gave any sort of fuck that someone was standing over his bed harassing him. Alastor took in the rumpled state of his king's clothing - he was still dressed in his suit, sans the pieces on the floor - as Lucifer threw an arm over his eyes in a futile attempt to block out the light. Without a word, he merely rolled over, presenting his back to Alastor, as if he wasn't a concern in the slightest. His tail didn't even so much a flick once.

Alastor narrowed his eyes, gritting his teeth. It ground his gears more than a bit to be so blatantly treated as so little a threat, but the more he took in the situation, the more it drove home what Charlie had meant by 'just kind of shut down.' With the absence of the quilt and sheets, the reek of melancholy wafted off Lucifer in waves, nearly overpowering his usual scent. Little things observed over time - the most damning being what was glimpsed during their last encounter - and Alastor recognized what he was looking at.

Lucifer Morningstar, the Devil and King of Hell was depressed. Deeply, truly, very depressed.

This was the potential opportunity he was looking for. Alastor would have to be blind not to see it. Getting close to Charlie had given him influence over Hell's future ruler as well as a possible solution to his ...other problem. It was a long game he'd been more than willing to play for the potential future rewards.

This here was the king, himself, though. As he'd just thought to himself: the highest authority in Hell. Lucifer didn't have much by way of political influence beyond the people's fear of his power. He clearly wasn't willing to use his authority to rule over his kingdom, first advocating it to his much more interested wife, before abandoning it altogether when she left.

On the other hand, who didn't know who he was? The other side of the coin to God himself, Lucifer was one of the most well known beings in all of creation, the originator and father of sin himself. The being who'd given humanity their free will and so neatly interrupted his holy father's plans.

Lucifer's interest in politics may have been nonexistent, but his reputation more than made up for it.

Could he do it, Alastor wondered to himself. Could he force himself into something companion shaped enough to meet the needs another just for power? He'd already debased himself so much already - it was how he landed in his current situation, in every sense of the word - could he do it a little more?

Static emitted from his throat, his desire - his desperation - to be free at war with his pride, tattered though it's remains were. Companionship usually came with other expectations. Expectations that included touching, amongst other things. The mere thought made him want to claw his own skin off and nothing had even happened yet.

He hadn't realized he'd moved until he heard a squeak from the direction of the floor. Attention diverted, Alastor craned his head around, hearing his own neck cracking in the process, as he tried to get a better look at whatever it was he had stepped on. He blinked when he saw the object, unable to resist reaching down to pick up the item to better exam it.

It was... a rubber duckie?

Lips parting in his bafflement, he twisted around to look towards the desk and shelves he remembered seeing earlier. The light of the lamp and the outside world illuminated the yellow objects, revealing them to be a mass pile of what were indeed rubber duckies. Every single one of them was some degree of different from the others, but they were all unmistakably the same thing. There had to be over a hundred of them. Some of them were new, but some of them were old, likely brought over from the palace.

Disgust curled up in his chest like a living thing. Disgust at himself. Disgust at Lucifer for being living proof that power doesn't mean a damn thing in the end. His anger made him reckless, blind to the potential consequences, as Alastor asked, "Is this why they left?"

For the first time since entering the room, he finally gained Lucifer's attention. "What?"

The single word sounded like a warning, but Alastor had already picked up too much momentum. He knew he liked to poke where he shouldn't, that it could be the death of him one day. Perhaps today was going be that day. In that moment, weighted down by everything, he almost didn't care. "While your people were getting slaughtered and your wife's kingdom was being burned to the ground, were you making children's toys?"

Lazily, damningly, like the final nail in his own coffin, he spun around back to the lump that would be his king. He sneered.

"How pathetic."

The only warning he had was the flicking of that silly, ridiculous tail.

Suddenly, the room was spinning. No, he was falling - being pulled? - onto the bed. His back made contact with the mattress and he got a brief glimpse of the ceiling before it was replaced by Lucifer.

Who was livid. Hands like stone pinned Alastor down at the wrists. The rest of Lucifer's body weight rested on the sinner's hips, one leg resting on either side of his body. Every single one of his fangs were visible as he bared his teeth in a snarl mere inches from Alastor's nose. "Who are you to judge me? You dare to speak of things you know nothing about?!"

Eyes void of pupils glared down at him, staring down into his very soul. Feeling exposed, feeling vulnerable, Alastor's flight or fight response kicked in, sending his heart rate through the roof. He tried to dissolve into his shadow, only to find himself unable to do so.

In response to his distress, he shadows rose up, diving in to take out his attacker. Lucifer didn't even acknowledge them. His wings appeared behind him, flooding the room with a bright light that drove away any and all shadows.

Sensing he was caught, the part of Alastor's brain that was every bit the prey animal he worked so hard not to let himself be forced him to go still under a dangerous predator.

"You are nothing more than a rapid dog nipping at my heels." Lucifer growled, the smell of smoke heavy on his breathe. "I should put you out of your misery, once and for all."

Alastor swallowed, forced himself to think through the molasses of his fear. He may be pinned and powerless, but he wasn't completely without weapons. He was never more glad that his smile was fixed in place as he stated, "Ah, there you are, your Majesty. You had Charlie worried about you."

He was almost able to keep the grimace out of his voice. Almost.

Alastor wondered if that had been perhaps the wrong thing to say, as Lucifer tightened his grip until bones began to grind together. Red tipped fingers curled inwards, the only sign of his pain.

Golden pupils appeared between one blink to the next, tracking the movement. As if he actually cared about the pain he could be causing, Lucifer's grip loosened, just enough that they were simply pinning instead of inflicting harm. His voice, on the other hand, held no mercy, as he asked, "What does my daughter have to do with this?"

Growing more confident the longer the king didn't kill him, Alastor explained, "Well, when she didn't hear from you today, Charlie asked me to come check on you, of course!" It wasn't entirely the truth, but it was close enough to hold up under any immediate scrutiny.

Lucifer narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously, all to happy to bring on the scrutiny. "Why would she send you?"

Alastor shrugged like he wasn't pinned under someone who was just trying to kill him mere moments ago. "Because I was the only one that could get into the room. Perks of being the Hotel Manager!" As his panic began to settle with each passing moment Lucifer was slowly returning to his normal form, the feeling of his skin crawling from every point of contact between them was beginning to rise. He needed to get Lucifer off him and soon. "In fact, she's waiting for word back right at this moment!"

Lucifer's eyes, pupils red and sclera yellow again, searched him, likely to see if he was telling the truth. Upon seeing that he was, he proceeded to finally make a mistake.

He took his eyes off of his captive to glance at the door, hands loosing just that tiny, crucial bit more.

Alastor caught his heels on the edge of the bed, using the leverage to raise his hips up into a bridge. The new position forced Lucifer to either release his wrists to catch himself or face plant as he was thrown forward. Luckily for the redhead, Lucifer went for catching himself, releasing Alastor, who immediately sprung up, catching the blond around the waist. Twisting, the two toppled over.

Within mere seconds, their positions were reversed: Alastor on top and Lucifer pinned to the mattress on his back.

The little king blinked up at him. He almost looked impressed with the move. He glanced at the hands pinning his wrists, flexing them as he tested the strength of the grip. Squirmed a little as the new position was likely putting an uncomfortable weight on his wings.

Good, Alastor thought. At any other time and situation, Alastor might have been fascinated by them. At the moment, his grip on those deceptively dainty wrists and any signs of discomfort were the only thing allowing him to hold onto his sanity.

For a long moment, they simply remained still, both parties regaining control over their frayed nerves. As his heart rate settled, his breathing normalizing, Alastor became aware of something he hadn't noticed over the stench of melancholy: his own scent.

It was becoming stale, but he could still was still there, separate from what he was currently leaving behind. It clung to Lucifer's person like a neon sign to tell anyone with the nose for it that he had let the Radio Demon close enough to him to make a claim.

He hadn't gotten rid of it.

The knowledge awoke a beast of a different kind, possessive and wanting, the scales tipping from Alastor wanting to devour this prize to wanting to keep him, if only he could figure out how. It left him nearly dizzy with whiplash.

Movement pulled him out of the thought. The redhead focused back on the outside world in time to see Lucifer directing his attention down the length of his own body. Alastor, without thinking, did the same.

Something hot and mortified clawed at his throat as he realized that while the blonde had been sitting on his hips in the original hold, the change in position had Alastor pinning Lucifer to a bed while sitting between his legs.

Alastor threw himself off of Lucifer and the bed, feeling like every point of contact had burned him. Lucifer raised himself up on his elbows, raising an eyebrow at him. The redhead didn't know what he saw in his expression before it was all locked away behind his mask, but it resulted in the blonde's own expression growing tired.

Lucifer let himself fall back onto the bed, seemingly heedless of his wings, running a hand down his face. "Message received." He waved a hand at the door. The spell on the door fell away with a light shower of sparks. Task down, the limb fell limp down onto the mattress. "Please tell Charlie I'll be down shortly."

It was a clear dismissal. Usually Alastor would have bristled at such a thing, but considering he did not want to be in that room anymore, he let it go. Forcing everything back into place, despite the ways his edges were feeling frayed, he said faux pleasantly, "As you wish, sire."

He paid little attention to the half assed wave of goodbye he received in response. When he disappeared into his shadow, he refused to look too deeply into how much it felt like he was running.

Again.

tbc

Part 8

[brainddeadd]

we haven’t talked much about baby devils family besides her mom… so maybe she’s an only child also why she’s love the boys so much because she has never had siblings and what if she lost her dad a few years ago to cancer and it’s not something she really talks about only person on the devils that knows is luke so maybe when it was the cancer game it was really important to her and everyone found out about her dad

The Cancer Game

warnings: parental death

ok so.. my dad died and this is how i'd want my friends to react and how some of them did react..

if you've lost someone close to you, i am so sorry for your loss

The New Jersey Devils locker room was filled with the usual celebration buzz. They’d just pulled off a big win, and everyone was riding high on the thrill of it, the energy bouncing off the walls as teammates shouted and laughed. Normally, Y/N would have been in the thick of it, cracking jokes and soaking up the post-game excitement with her team. But tonight, she’d been different. She’d put on a brave face, even cheered a little in the locker room, but her heart wasn’t in it. Only Luke noticed the way her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, the way she slipped out of the room as soon as she could without saying a word to anyone.

He’d seen her like this before, knew the kind of weight that could press down on her after certain games. The annual Cancer Awareness game, something that meant so much to the Devils organization and their fans, had an especially painful significance for her. A few years back, her dad had passed away after a long battle with cancer. It wasn’t something she talked about; she kept her emotions tucked away and rarely let them out, but this game always hit her hard. Luke was the only one who knew, and though she never said anything, he’d learned to recognize the signs.

The other guys hadn’t quite pieced it together yet, but they were noticing the change in her. Jack frowned as he watched her leave. “Did you guys see Y/N? She just left so quickly. I don’t think she even said goodbye.”

“Yeah, and she was barely talking all night,” Nico added, crossing his arms with a worried look. “She seemed…off. You think something’s wrong?”

Dawson, still buzzing from the win, looked back toward the door, his excitement dimming. “She didn’t even celebrate like usual. You think we should check on her?”

Luke glanced at them, a little torn. Y/N was private, and he didn’t want to betray her trust, but he also didn’t want her to be alone with this. With a slight nod, he said, “Yeah. I think we should.” He didn’t offer an explanation yet, but his face was serious, and the others picked up on it right away.

The group left together, the energy in the car shifting to something quieter and more solemn as they drove to Y/N’s place. They entered her apartment, hoping she’d be alright, but the scene they found tugged at their hearts.

Y/N was curled up on her couch, her face hidden in her hands, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Luke stepped forward first, his heart heavy as he saw his friend so vulnerable. He gently placed a hand on her shoulder before sitting next to her, pulling her into his side. She leaned into him, not saying anything, but letting him be there.

The others stood back, exchanging looks of uncertainty and sadness. They hadn’t seen her like this before and didn’t want to intrude, but they also couldn’t bear the idea of leaving her alone.

After a quiet moment, Jack finally spoke up. “Is…is she okay? What’s going on?” he asked softly, his voice filled with worry.

Luke took a breath, deciding to share what he knew in the hopes that they’d understand. “Her dad…he passed away from cancer a few years back. This game…this night…it’s a lot for her to handle. It brings back memories.”

There was a stunned silence as the reality of her pain sank in. Dawson looked down, feeling a pang of guilt for not realizing sooner. Nico’s expression softened, his eyes full of empathy as he took a step closer to her.

Jack’s face fell. He crouched down beside her, reaching out to place a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. You should’ve said something. You don’t have to go through this by yourself.”

Nico nodded, his voice gentle. “We’re family, Y/N. Whatever you need, we’re here. Always.” His words were soft, filled with the warmth of someone who understood what it meant to be part of a team that cared deeply for each other beyond just hockey.

Dawson gave her a supportive smile, his voice as warm as he could make it. “Yeah, we’re here for you. If you ever need to talk or even just want someone around to keep you company, don’t hesitate. We’ve got your back.”

Y/N looked up through red, tear-streaked eyes, managing a small, appreciative smile as she took in the scene. There they were—her teammates, her friends, her family—standing around her with faces full of concern and love. She hadn’t planned to let them see her like this, hadn’t planned to share the part of herself that was still so raw and aching. But here they were, offering her every bit of their support, not backing away from her sadness.

Luke’s arm tightened around her shoulders as he whispered, “You’re not alone. I’m here. We’re all here.”

Y/N felt her heart swell as Jack, Nico, and Dawson each moved closer, surrounding her with a warmth and presence that filled the room. They didn’t try to fix her pain or rush her through it; they simply sat with her, letting her know that she didn’t have to bear this alone. The weight of her grief felt a little lighter with them there, their quiet strength helping to carry her forward, reminding her that no matter how heavy the burden, she would never have to shoulder it by herself again.

[chheolie]

hey! i love your writing so much! i was wondering if you’d be open to writing a comfort fic where y/n is feeling a little sad and lonely (feeling left out from their friend group) and scoups comforts y/n?

Ohhh hello, I'm glad you enjoyed reading this blog. And well, I hope you like this post too! ♥♥♥

seungcheol unlocked the door to his home, his shoulders heavy with the weight of weeks of intense work, and let out a sigh of relief as he entered. the past weeks had been a whirlwind of recordings, rehearsals, and meetings. his eyes searched for you, whom he hadn't seen as much as he would have liked lately. soon, you rushed to meet him, hugging him tightly. he smiled, feeling your warmth, wrapping his arms around you, and kissing the top of your head.

"i'm home," he murmured, holding you tenderly.

you didn't let go, remaining glued to him. seungcheol noticed the difference; normally, even after time apart, you maintained a certain distance. today, however, you seemed unwilling to let go.

"what's wrong, love? is everything okay?" he asked with concern, caressing your face.

"nothing, i just missed you," you replied quickly, trying to force a smile.

he frowned, unconvinced, but decided not to press the issue at that moment. "i missed you too, y/n." you both headed to the living room and settled on the couch. you lay down in seungcheol's lap, feeling his fingers gently run through your hair, a gesture that always calmed you.

you picked up your phone and started scrolling through your instagram feed. suddenly, your body tensed. seungcheol noticed the immediate change and looked at your face, analyzing your expression. on the post where you had frozen, your friends were all together at a dinner, without you.

"y/n, what is it?" he asked, worried.

you sighed, your eyes still fixed on the phone. "my friends went out to dinner," you finally said, your voice tinged with hurt. "and i didn't even know about it. i wasn't invited. again."

seungcheol felt his heart ache seeing the sadness in your eyes.

"that's not fair, y/n. are you sure they didn't mention anything in the group chat?"

you shook your head, tears beginning to form.

"no. and this isn't the first time it's happened. i just... i feel like i'm losing my friendships. i feel so alone."

seungcheol pulled you closer, enveloping you in a tight embrace. he could feel your pain. "i'm sorry, my love. i know how much this must hurt."

you finally looked at him, your eyes shining with unshed tears. "i just... feel so excluded, you know? like i'm not important to them."

"you are so important, y/n. to me, you are everything. and anyone who doesn't see that doesn't deserve your time or energy."

you nodded, the tears now falling freely. seungcheol gently wiped your face with his thumb, leaning in to kiss your lips softly.

"let's take some time just for us, do something you enjoy. maybe watch a movie, order food... what do you think?"

you gave a small smile, feeling the comfort and security that only seungcheol could provide.

"i'd love that, cheol. thank you for being here."

he kissed your forehead, holding you even tighter in his arms.

"always, my love. i'll always be here for you."

you both decided to order food from a restaurant you both liked, choosing dishes that brought back fond memories of other moments together. while waiting for the delivery, seungcheol put on a movie he knew you adored. he adjusted the cushions on the couch, making sure you were comfortable before sitting next to you again.

as the movie progressed, you felt the day's tension begin to melt away. seungcheol kept an arm around your shoulders, occasionally kissing your temple or whispering funny comments about the movie scenes, making you laugh. it was a welcome distraction and a reminder of how well he knew and understood you.

when the food arrived, seungcheol insisted on serving you, telling you to relax while he prepared everything. he returned with plates full of your favorite dishes, and you ate together, talking about light and fun things, putting aside worries for a moment.

after dinner, you stayed cuddled on the couch, talking about everything and nothing. seungcheol listened patiently as you spoke more about how you were feeling regarding your friends. he didn't try to offer quick solutions, but instead, listened attentively, validating your feelings and offering words of support.

"maybe it's time to find new people, make new friendships that truly value you," he suggested gently. "but remember, i'm always here for you, no matter what."

you felt a wave of gratitude and love for him. seungcheol always knew exactly what to say to make you feel better. you snuggled closer, feeling the warmth and security of his arms around you.

"i don't know what i'd do without you, my love," you whispered.

"and you'll never have to find out because i'm never going anywhere," he responded, with firmness and affection in his voice.

[lullabyes22-blog]

hi <3

i am once again asking your thoughts on the latest act of arcane?

Honestly, my feelings on S2 so far are pretty mixed.

:')

On the one hand, visually, it's absolutely heartstopping. The cinematography is incredible, and it's the first time in a while where every episode felt like an experience I had to endure in a good way. Plus the score, the voice-acting, and the sound design is, as usual, top notch.

Buuuut when you have all these stellar spheres working on this show, it makes the areas where they drop the ball stand out.

For me, that's the plot.

Alot of folks have criticized the pacing and how there's too much piled into one season. Personally, at this point I've made peace with the breakneck speed and sort of taken it as a given in a series where 'War' is the overarching theme. I can even let go of the fact that certain plot beats don't feel earned, as there's so much subtlety and foreshadowing that you can easily make the case for them via long-drawn out analyses of every frame.

But the writing, ohhhh boy. The writing. It feels like there's a disconnect between the overall plot and the individual character moments.

It's really hard to articulate, but I'll do my best.

I love that we're getting so much characterization for the main cast. Every episode, it feels like there's a new layer peeled back, and each of our leads has an opportunity to shine.

And that's exactly the problem. They're all shining.

Separately.

When I think about it, the reason why S1 worked so well was because every episode gave us a glimpse into the mind of someone different. We got a taste of what it was like to be in the head of every major player in the cast, and through this, we grew to understand their motivations, their fears, their hopes. I've used the 'gem' analogy in previous reviews, and the way the show handled that concept was amazing. Every character was a facet of the gem that was Arcane, and each shift of PoV allowed us to see them from a new angle.

There was coherence. There was cohesion. And there was a sense of complexity told in a concise and well-planned format.

S2, for me, doesn't quite work the same way.

It's not that I don't understand the characters, or that I don't appreciate the way they're handled. It's just that their individual journeys are so self-contained. I'm not getting a sense of their interpersonal connections. More as if they're crashing into and out of each other's lives, without ever stopping to have a proper conversation.

It's a common complaint with ensemble casts, and I don't mind it for the most part, but the problem here is that Arcane has been very careful about establishing its characters as part of a cohesive whole. They're not just random individuals who happen to share a stage. They're siblings, lovers, colleagues, friends, enemies, etc. And the reason why we can relate to them is because, on some level, they mirror our own relationships. We've seen how they treat each other, and we've come to care about them.

But in this season, I feel like there's been a failure to communicate.

Scenes between characters feel like a series of disconnected vignettes, some of which are great and some of which are not so great. It's as if the writers are trying to force the characters to react to the plot rather than the other way around.

I don't want to be overly critical. So much love and effort has gone into making this show, and I'd never want to disparage the efforts of so many talented artists.

But, yeah. Coherence is a bit of an issue.

I will say, however, that re: the subject of grief, especially in Jinx's journey, this season has delivered some beautiful moments. It's a surprisingly nuanced treatment of a complicated and ugly emotion, and it's something I wish more shows would tackle. The problem with a lot of modern storytelling is that, because it's trying so hard to be edgy, complex and subversive, it doesn't really leave any room for just letting characters exist. And Jinx's arc in particular is a perfect example of this.

I was worried, going into the season, that they'd take the easy route and paint her as a pure monster, utterly deranged from her loss. That's what the fandom seems to want, anyway, and it's what you'd probably expect given the general climate.

But instead, the show has chosen for Jinx to be vulnerable, and to let her arc be honest. Granted, Isha, though she's adorable, still doesn't quite feel like a full-fleshed out person, but Jinx's bond with her has been written with such heartbreaking realism that I'm inclined to forgive the former for the sake of the latter. It's just refreshing to see the series not to take that insulting and reductive 'but Jinx is crazy' route, and instead allow her to grapple with the pain of losing her family and the horror of what she's done, but to also heal old wounds with brand-new connections.

'Crazy' does not mean 'irredeemable.'

And it's about time more mainstream media got this memo.

The series also continues to be stellar at showcasing so much with such restraint. A lot of the scenes don't last longer than a few minutes, and yet you can feel so much conveyed in that brief window. And the framing and composition is consistently masterful.

Overall, though, I'm a bit underwhelmed by this season so far. It feels like an incomplete masterpiece, and the sense that the narrative has lost control is starting to get overwhelming. We've still got Act 3 left, and I'm hoping the final stretch is able to tie things together a little more neatly.

Anyway, thank you for reading this mess! And feel free to share your thoughts as well. I'm curious to hear how other people are finding the series.

<3

[mirai-e-jump]

Monthly TV Guide, October 2024 Issue ft. Kamen Rider Gavv Cast Members (translation below)

Publication: August 23, 2024

Chinen Hidekazu x Hino Yusuke x Miyabe Nozomi

Chinen: The three of us have many scenes together, but even before filming began, we were able to go into the shoot with a mutual relationship.

Miyabe: That's right.

Hino: Hide would suddenly show up at my house and say, "Let's play a game."

Chinen: Hahaha! (laughs).

Hino: From the start, Hide was the first to take the lead in bringing the three of us closer together.

Chinen: I wanted us to get to know each other as quickly as possible, and to film in a condition where we could communicate. Because of that, we all exchanged contact info.

Hino: We exchanged LINEs on the day of our meeting, and from there, he immediately asked us out to a meal, which made me happy, and I think this led to better communication on set.

Miyabe: Even on set, Hide helps everyone around him feel at ease. He's calm, but he's also got a reliable side to him, and he also puts alot of thought into his role. He'll also say things to us like, "Let's try this part here," or "Let's practice alittle more," which has been extremely helpful.

Hino: I mean, he's reliable, or atleast he's trying to be reliable (laughs).

Chinen: Eh?!

Hino: That's what's so wonderful about you (laughs).

Chinen: Thank you (laughs). With this production, we've been taking on alot of different challenges, wouldn't you say?

Hino: That's right. First, It's not an easy experience to play the same role for a whole year, right? Because we have a year to work on it, I think there's a certain way to develop and immerse ourselves into it, and if we can do that, I think we can grow alot as actors, so I'm going to go all out.

Chinen: I also want to do my best with action. I've always practiced karate while in Okinawa, so I'd like to become an actor who can also do action. Even now, I'm learning one on one from everyone on the Action Team, and they teach me cool moves that I've sought after myself by saying, "I want to try this move."

Miyabe: I play the role of a flashy gyaru president, but it's the complete opposite of my actual self. Still, I also think it's alot of fun to play an opposite type of role like this, so I hope to continue to expand on that range and to be able to connect with it in the future.

Hino: Is it fun being a gyaru?

Miyabe: It's so much fun!

Hino: Somehow, you're more cheerful than you've been before.

Chinen: I really thought that! I thought that living with a gyaru mindset makes you cheerful, as well as the people around you. For the first time I thought about gyarus, and I thought that being a gyaru is great.

Miyabe: "Being a gyaru is great"! (laughs).

Chinen: I think I'm envious of that mindset…!

Hino: It's positive, isn't it?

Chinen: Yeah. I hope to be able to incorporate that kind of positivity into my own personality. _

-This is what I want to fight with!! Food & Tactics-

Chinen: I think liquid types would be strong. Like the carbonated kinds.

Hino: Shouldn't we limit this to sweets…?

Chinen: Alright then, it'd be konjac jelly! It'd be the type that jiggles and would absorb the opponent's attack. It could repel various things.

Miyabe: I see (laughs). I love plums, so by using it's sour power, it'd make the opponent lose it's strength.

Chinen: That might be the most unpleasant thing for the opponent's side. I don't think I'd be able to keep my eyes open (laughs).

Hino: Ah, that could happen!

Miyabe: In that case, it'd be something like plum candy or plum tablets!

Hino: I'd use experimental types. It'd be like, I put powder 1 and powder 2 together and then mix them.

Chinen: I see!

Hino: That's how I'd restrain my opponent.

Miyabe: It sounds like it would take alot of time and effort to mix (laughs).

Chinen: Would you tell the enemy, "Hold on a sec" (laughs).

Hino: We'd need to establish an unspoken rule that they don't attack during that time (laughs).

[mcflymemes]

NOCTURNAL ANIMALS (2016) PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue, adjust as necessary

please don't say that. i don't want to be like my mother.

do you ever feel like your life has turned into something that you never intended?

that's a deal breaker for me.

we might be perfect for each other if we didn't live in the real world.

why do you always think the worst of me?

you're wrong. you and i are nothing alike.

i see we're settling for less now!

a package arrived for you. i found it in the mailbox this morning.

i'm sorry, but could you help me open this? i just cut my finger. paper cut.

in the end, you left me with the inspiration that i needed to write from the heart.

where were you last night?

by the time i left the office, i was late for my dinner.

it would have taken you fifteen minutes. fifteen minutes, and it would have meant a lot to me.

you didn't come to bed last night.

i didn't want to wake you up.

that doesn't sound like you.

are things a little better?

i'm surprised. i thought we were hiding it pretty well.

[name], i'm worried about you.

seriously, look at me. you scared me the last time that we talked.

i'm fine. i just can't believe i told you all of those things. i feel embarrassed about it.

what right do i have to not be happy? i have everything. i feel ungrateful not to be happy.

i think we just want different things. or maybe i want different things.

we get into things when we're young because we think they mean something.

do we really have to stop tonight? i'd rather just get there.

don't look at them. don't give them any reason.

sit still. they've probably got a gun.

don't get out of the car.

you're not supposed to leave the scene of an accident. it's a crime.

don't come any closer.

i'm a gemini, my favorite color is petal pink, and i like long walks and kittens.

you know what, we should call the police.

you got no fucking right to talk to me like that!

you'll get killed if you don't watch it.

may i use your phone?

could you see them in the dark?

i just wanted to hear your voice. i miss you.

you sound weird. are you okay?

you look beautiful as always.

would you like to have dinner?

you know, you were my first crush.

what a weird thing to say.

i'm sorry. i hope that doesn't offend you.

this is a ridiculous conversation. you're too young to get married.

oh my god, did you just say that? you really just said that? that came out of your mouth?

it's like the whole thing is a blur.

now listen. i've got to be honest with you. right now it's not looking good.

if i write it down, then it will last forever.

you know my name. i told you.

you didn't sleep again, did you?

who the hell are you? get off my property!

you'll take this the wrong way, but i think that you need to stop writing about yourself.

please don't start that again. it makes me feel like you don't believe in me.

you always get so fucking defensive about it.

i really wanted to be this person that you thought i was. i really did, but i'm just not that person.

you're wonderful and romantic, and sweet and sensitive, and all the things i'm not. life for you is kind of a dream.

weak. i'm weak. that's what you want to say. go ahead and say it. you've said it before. weak.

i'll live to regret this. i regret it now.

i got a certain pride in how people talk to me, and there are certain things i don't put up with.

nobody gets away with what you did.

may i get you a drink while you wait?

[maythedreadwolftakeyou]

(DATV thoughts with spoilers ahead; i think my tags will keep it filtered but just in case it doesn't since i dont want this in the actual game tags)

i just... man. i don't have a well formulated thought for this yet (and its my PERSONAL OPINION and other people can feel as different as they want, this is not an attack) but it keeps bouncing around my head, so. i know the popular thing right now is coming up with in-universe justifications for The Pantry Almost-Kiss Scene in ways that imply Lucanis didn't mean it/it doesn't represent him as a person/he was Faking It.

and i just don't like any of them. they make me sad!!!!!! i don't like the idea that one of the like 4 romance scenes we get in this game is him Pretending in some way, even if he does at that point like Rook back at least somewhat. None of the justifications i've seen make me feel Better about that being the point where we declare him as a romantic interest, which is what it is in the game, functionally. It doesn't lock you in yet but that point IS where the game says "they will take your flirting more seriously now". I did those same scenes for Davrin, Emmrich, and Taash and this is the formula the game uses (the "interrupted almost-kiss/confession" happens for almost all of the companions).

so if the answer for Lucanis' is "actually he stopped because he Didn't like what he was doing/feel that way yet" or that he felt he had to pretend for Rook's sake... it's kind of a letdown you know? esspecially when it comes right after what seems like an actually authentic moment (dispelling his "perfectly gathered clouds of doom"). Because, at that point in the game from my/Rook's perspective, it was like he finally was reciprocating. It made me hope that he'd acknowledge whatever was between him & Rook more in future scenes, especially because you get so little else from him at any other point, in terms of flirting back/showing you he IS interested. like up to that point I felt kind of bad for continuing to flirt at him, when he'd just change the subject right after! if someone did that in real life i would take it as a hint to stop. This is pixels and not real people so I didn't but they have done "reluctant/fearful interest" better in other characters if that's truly what they were going for in this one.

so after finishing the romance and getting the rest of content... idk. I don't like saying "one of the major chunks of characterization we get needs to be Thrown Out Actually because he was Pretending". because it's not like he or Rook ever actually address it in game--you just don't get to talk about feelings until some dialogue choices only in the act 3 romance scene, and then his speech at endgame (not even a full conversation, so much as his personal declaration). like it takes until the VERY end of the game for him to say the thing about "he was afraid to want you", but that comes after you've already hooked up, even.

I think truly what annoys me is that it's a story choice that can only make sense in HINDSIGHT not AS PLAYING. Only once you have all the scenes can you say "this one is out of character" and then you either have to accept it as bad writing, or come up with some in-universe justification to explain it... and so far none of the in universe ones feel good to me. i wish they did because maybe then I'd be less annoyed, rip. but at the end of the day i think even if there was some intent there, it was a poor choice for his story arc, because it doesn't effectively convey anything... and the reason why we can project a lot of different explanations onto it is simply because it is never addressed again (and again, Lucanis Dellamorte is NOT A PERSON he is a CHARACTER used to further a story for you the player, and so the reasons I don't like this choice are story-level and not a dig at how real life people feel or act).

So yeah at the end of the day. that is simply not a narrative device I would ever personally use in this way on a player/reader. certain kinds of hindsight revelations have their place (see: what the devs tried to do with Varric though I also think that falls apart on close inspection, but at least it has justification in-universe), but for a romance it just makes me embarrassed for Rook. In a game where you don't have nearly as many back-and-forth conversations with characters and have to resort to eavesdropping on them talking to each other, it's sad that one of the like 5 times you actually get to talk to Lucanis one on one we're maybe supposed to believe he wasn't being authentic, and also that Rook can't respond to this ever. It would be different if it had any kind of follow up, imo. or honestly as i've said before i would rather it have been swapped out with something entirely different or where we get to talk about their feelings instead, before i get labeled as one of the "people mad he's not Zevran 2.0/a sexy latin sterotype".

But having to step back to player-level analysis versus in-character analysis when looking at his whole romance arc just feels sloppy. but i'd much rather stick to "bad writing" than "intentional character choice" in terms of how to interpret the scene I guess, at this point, for poor Rook's sake. and i know people disagree with when I've said that before bc as much as I love Mary Kirby in other areas, she has said many times that she doesn't like writing romance, and I think it really does show here. As much as I love Lucanis and the scraps we got I wish I didn't have to do so much filling-in-the-blanks on our own.

[polarisbibliotheque]

Can You Hear The Rumble? - Vergil x Reader

Music Inspired Fics (Devil May Music) - Cirice, by Ghost

Pairing: Vergil x Reader

Summary: Everyone knew the kind of demon a hunter should be wary about is the one who plays with their victim's minds. You and Vergil were very proud on the outside - but how would it be when having to save each other on the inside for the first time?

TRIGGER WARNING: A lot of blood, cuts, bruises, scars and suffering on both Vergil and the reader's sides. The reader also struggles with perfection and self-loathing - in a "I'm never going to be a good person" kind of way, because I needed to get more intimate on the reader's part as well - and there are scenes with the reader covered in cuts and bleeding, though not self-imposed, it could be read like that. Those scenes are the reader's and Vergil's internal images of themselves. Reader and Vergil meet each other on their imperfections and the darkest parts of their souls, so BE WARNED. This might not be everyone's cup of tea and there are lots of potential triggers.

Author's Note: @tokkis-shelf asked me if Vergil's part of the Halloween special was inspired by Cirice, and here we are now. It is what kickstarted the song-fic requests! As with a lot of people, I think, Cirice is pretty personal to me.

In the video, it was so comforting to me seeing the black sheep being represented hahahaha and I guess that's why people love it so much. The part where they hold hands? I died, I'd never let go, I cry my soul out upon watching. (I did a very similar drawing to that scene when I was in school around 15 years ago, so it drop-kicked me out of my body xD)

Now, when writing this, I kept in mind that this song has a double meaning and can be quite comforting and quite manipulative at the same time - hence why I use the "can't you see that you're lost without me?" in two different situations, 'cause I think Cirice can be interpreted in so many ways and each person takes what they need from this song. I hope you guys like it!!

Plus, the song the reader and Dante sing at the end is The Power of Love, by Huey Lewis and The News

Cirice, by Ghost

“Can’t you see that you’re lost…?”

It happened every time Vergil walked in the darkness.

That voice in the back of his head, silently taunting him, the hiss of a quiet viper in the hopes of taking him back to the darkest parts of his soul. Quiet, lurking, whispering… Mundus always there, somewhere in the folds of his consciousness, guiding him back into the void – luring Vergil back into his shackles.

“Can’t you see that you’re lost without me?”

As if Vergil couldn’t belong anywhere else, as if his place was in Hell. After all he had been through, after all the sins he perpetrated, he believed wholeheartedly there was no hope for him at all – only a fool’s hope; only a glimmer of a wish he wasn’t as tainted as he was… A desire to not be such a monster as he was.

Pacing quietly through the empty cathedral, Vergil had already learned not to give in to those thoughts – to keep them at bay, as only a whisper in the darkness, of trickster voices that would always remind him of how inhuman he was.

It was times like this Vergil longed for the faint glimmer of the moon, or the warm ghostly light of a candle. It was easy to get lost in the dark, but a single ray of light could help through the direst of situations. That night, though, it seemed like the moon had fallen asleep behind the curtains of the clouds – Selene hiding her tears for her earthly lover in his eternal sleep.

None of you knew what that night entailed – you weren’t even certain what you were dealing with. That was the reason why Lady strutted in the Devil May Cry, not too fond of taking a job she didn’t know if it was up to her abilities.

“Well, looks like I have a new one for you to pay your debt, big guy!” Her singsong voice interrupted the ambience of the jukebox; Lady entering the shop with Kalina Ann and all.

“Eh, I’m never gonna be free of my debt, Lady, let’s be honest.” Dante sighed, putting his feet down and throwing his magazine across the table, shooting her a serious glare. “But things have been borin’ lately, so one of your odd jobs’ not gonna hurt. Whaddya have for me?”

“You talk as if I never help you enough to maintain this place.” She lifted one eyebrow, approaching the big desk at the middle of the shop.

“Gotta give the woman credit, Dante. Last month’s bills were on her.” You shrugged as you had finally come out of your shower, happy to see Lady around, still drying your hair with the towel as you went down the stairs.

“See? Someone who has a bit of common sense.” Her smile was nothing short of devilish as she gestured towards you.

“You know where you are, Lady. ‘Common sense’ isn’t much of a thing in this household.” You greeted her by quickly blowing her a kiss while passing by, making your way towards the couch where Vergil was quietly reading.

“Ey, you’re hurtin’ my feelings like that.” Dante put one of his hands over his heart, laughing alongside you as you kept on your way. “But fine. I’ll give ya that, Lady. So, what’s up? What job do you wanna throw at me this time?”

“I am not throwing it at you.” And there it was: you could always see when Dante stroke a nerve when Lady got defensive and with that fiery stare on her multicolored eyes. “If you wanna do it, great, if you don’t, I can deal with it myself just fine. I’m here to be a good friend since you can barely afford all that pizza you keep stuffing yourself with!”

As you sat by Vergil’s side, you both exchanged a telling glare. Just like you, Vergil was used to observing people. Granted, he didn’t know Lady as much as Dante or even you, but he did know her since he was very young. That fiery, easy-to-anger personality had been there since they first met at the Temen-ni-gru – and Vergil argued it was one of Lady’s traits that would never change.

Something he was quite pleased with, if he had to be honest with himself. It was a good trait for a human demon hunter like her. Dante always praised human’s hearts and particularly their love and empathy – Vergil praised their burning anger that made them unconquerable in the direst of circumstances.

“Jeez, alright, alright, don’t shoot me!” Dante raised his hands as if he was at gunpoint, making you wheeze quietly. Vergil side-eyed you for a while – half judging, half holding his own laugh. “It’s not like I have much of a choice, do I?”

“Humpf.” Lady rolled her eyes and took a slice of pizza from the box resting on the desk, pointing at Dante with it right after. “You know I wouldn’t bring you something if it wasn’t important.”

“Actually, you would.” With those words, Dante rested his arms crossed on the table – all the while, you and Vergil watched it all as if it was a show. Who needed a TV when you had those two? “But you’re bein’ too dodgy ‘bout it, babe. What’s goin’ on?”

“I got a call from a priest in a city nearby.” Lady’s answer was uncharacteristically quiet, followed by a bite from the pizza while she seemed pensive and in any hurry to chew it. “I’ve done some jobs there, know the guy, he’s nice. All the times he called me, it was always a quick, good-paying job. He said some weird things have been happening at the cathedral for the last couple of weeks.”

“Not to sound mean, but there’s always somethin’ strange happenin’ at churches.” Dante’s eyes carried a bit of skepticism: ‘weird things’ didn’t always entail a job for the Devil May Cry – and it usually ended with all of you hunting a rogue raccoon or something.

“I know. But this guy, he doesn’t get scared easy, ok? He’s one of those types of priests who’ll try to shoot down a couple of demons with a shotgun and, if that doesn’t work, he gives me a call.” Those words, though, made you and the Spardas raise your eyebrows. Indeed, it was a rare type of priest, but a good one to keep as acquaintance. “He said the cathedral is increasingly quiet, even from noises outside, with occasional distant noises that are not done by any of those who live there. After it all started, the other priests reported having weird nightmares, of being chased by something in the dark, inside the cathedral – this thing whispering things they can’t understand. Alright if it happened to one or two, but soon all of them started waking up in the middle of the night with similar nightmares – and, catch this, the higher ups of the clergy didn’t tell the common priests about it, but they all reported the very same dream.” Those words caught everyone’s attention. Vergil finally closed his book and leaned forward, paying attention to Lady’s retelling of the priest’s misfortunes. “The priest has been trying to figure out what’s going on, but some old books appear to go missing from the library, only to re-appear as if nothing has happened. Some books are missing pages, something that never happened before. He also said the inside of the cathedral has been getting darker and darker as the weeks go by. As if something is approaching – his words, not mine.”

Vergil immediately furrowed his brows and seemed to turn into an ice sculpture right by your side. You risked a glance, finding him with his usual dark aura – pensive, somber and quiet; hunter’s eyes showing themselves in a matter of seconds.

“Rare are the creatures in Hell in search for knowledge…” He muttered loud enough for his brother and Lady to turn their attention to him. “But those who do, are usually among the worst. Haunting noises, torn books, nightmares, dead silence and total darkness…”

“What? You think those Hell Piranhas came out of their pit?” Dante’s question had a bit of fun in the words, but his eyes were serious and he didn’t allow his lips to smile.

“Could be. Could also be a demon trying to mimic them to hide something else.”

“Hell Piranhas?” You and Lady didn’t need a cue to ask at the very same time. Neither of you had ever heard of that – and both of you had heard of a lot.

“This is not their name, but it is how Dante calls them since we were kids.” Vergil almost sighed in response.

“How we both called ‘em. Mister smart-pants over here isn’t that much better than lil’ ol’ me.” Dante winked at both of you, making you giggle quietly in return. “They’re kinda like illusion demons, but they like stayin’ in the darkness and gatherin’ knowledge. Usually work for someone bigger, though.”

“And even if they don’t, they swallow up all their knowledge and that is dangerous in itself. Afterwards, they feed from the victims they have been toying for so long.” Vergil continued Dante’s thought, ignoring his brother’s previous words. The more you didn’t think about what Dante had said about him, the better – for Vergil couldn’t deny it. “They hunt in packs, and the more victims, the more powerful they become. Some call them the Pit Deceivers, others call them the Lie Weavers…”

“You call them Hell Piranhas.” You concluded bluntly, making Vergil stare at the horizon with emptiness in his eyes – he could say all he wanted, flex all his demonic knowledge, you heard the Piranhas and now you’d never forget it.

“I never heard of them.” Lady had her eyebrows furrowed, searching her memory for some story like that.

“They either don’t leave the pit that much or not many humans survive to tell the story. That’s why.” Dante pointed at a great, old book Vergil had left on one of the tables a long time ago and now it was its official resting place. “You can find it only in the likes of the Codex Daemonica.”

“So either we have them around, or it’s something else. Something bigger. Right?” As you asked, Vergil only agreed with his head as the attentions turned to you. “Or something mimicking the Piranhas.” And Vergil had to sigh at your addition. He would never have peace again. “The mimic or the master, what kind of demon would the Piranhas answer to? If they are that obscure, I take it their existence is more of a niche knowledge in Hell rather than a common information.”

“On that, you are correct…” Vergil murmured in response, falling back into his pensive demeanor. You knew he would be lost for a while.

“See? Good thing I brought this for you, then.” Lady waved dismissively at Dante, but you could sense a little edge in her playful voice. Dealing with big things was fine, same as dealing with cruel demons and the ones that played the big-scary-one persona. Unknown demons were another kind of monster – one only Dante and Vergil used to deal with. “Plus, they always pay well.”

“Eh, I won’t be seein’ much of that money, if I know ya well.” Dante scoffed, having a small smile hidden in the corner of his lips; his tone and demeanor, though, were quite somber and you knew the red devil was taking it seriously.

“If you don’t mind, Dante, I would like to take over this one.” Vergil finally declared while getting up from the couch. “I know some of the hellish creatures who might make use of the Weavers or mimic them.”

“Fine for me, I’m needin’ some time to rest.” Dante sighed, but looked right back at you while Vergil rested his book on the big Devil May Cry desk. “But I’m gonna feel a lot better with someone around to keep an eye on ‘im, pretty thing.”

“Well, I didn’t intend on letting you guys deal with this all by yourselves anyway.” You got up from the couch, immediately receiving a glare from Vergil. “I’m going, blue devil, whether you want it or not. I want to get acquainted with these Piranhas.”

Vergil only closed his eyes, letting out the longest and most regretful sigh you ever heard in your life.

And there you were – although Vergil lost track of you quite a while ago. He knew the stirrings rippling through his heart when you were in danger; and being the fierce human you were, Vergil wasn’t worried about having you search for the demons in the cathedral.

There was, though, a slight uneasiness. That voice echoing in the darkest parts of his soul, it always came as an omen – causing nothing but destruction, inside or outside of himself. Vergil never could really say which one would be, but both were devastating.

“Veeeeergil…”

His steps came to a dry halt in the middle of the cathedral. The night outside the colorful stained-glass windows was pitch black, robbing the colors of their warmth and light – the fire on the candles, long dead in that cold night. The whisper that crept to his ears, like stark chalk on a chalkboard, dragged itself through the marble floor and took a hold of his soul in its clutches.

It was a different kind of sound – different from the ones inside himself, calling him to the darkness. It was from the outside… The Lie Weavers. Slowly coming up, finding him as their next victim. He was close to one of the places they were certainly lurking in the shadows, patiently waiting for someone they could consume.

Vergil never feared the darkness. Tightening his grip around Yamato, his steps resumed his way, approaching the places in the cathedral the faint light of the night could barely touch. Those demons should have known their end was near, and he was the harbinger of their demise – he expected all kinds of trickery, of resistance, of fight from them.

He did not expect to hear a familiar voice, filled with uncertainty.

“Vergil…?”

Halting his steps once more, this time his silvery eyes lost their predatorial gaze as his heart jumped in his chest – even if for a slight second.

“Mother?”

His answer was but a whisper before he was swallowed by darkness.

*

When engaging with illusion demons, one should be aware of not falling into their element: when engulfed by it, those demons were more powerful than expected, able to subdue even the strongest of foes. Breaking from their control required mental and emotional discipline rather than brute force.

It was a slight second – a foolish slip from his human soul, disarmed by the trickery of Eva’s voice – and Vergil was surrounded by a sea of darkness and turmoil. His heart stirred with anger towards himself for being such a child, a vulnerable stupid child, tricked by a puppet of something his heart missed so much.

Eva was long dead. There was no demon able to bring her back. And he would never see her again. All that logic was tossed aside in a spark of a second by his stupid human heart, trembling upon hearing her speak his name again. Granted, Vergil only heard his mother in his dreams, barely remembering how her voice sounded in reality, and this time he heard outside himself – but he should have seen it coming. Illusion demons, trickster demons, cruel demons… They all relied on the barely closed scars inside his damned human soul.

Vergil could always count on them to re-open those wounds, making him bleed as much as he did on the floor of that cursed cemetery so many years ago – and he was a fool to fall for it after he had been through so much.

“Vergil… Can you hear me…?”

“I can, you damned deceiver. You can stop these theatrics – mimicking my dead mother will not affect me.” His voice cut through the dark like the sharpest of ice, his predatorial gaze back into his silver eyes.

“I… Don’t understand you, son. I cannot find you.” Her voice had a tinge of sorrow and desperation – but it was exactly like Eva’s voice. Vergil remembered it with a tinge of gold, probably a result of the haze of nostalgia, but today it was grounded and melancholic – perhaps, that was how Eva had always sounded… He just didn’t remember it. “I can’t find you. You aren’t home.”

“I haven’t been home for a long while.” Vergil didn’t even try to hide the growl that raised from his chest as he argued with that creature. He was used to having a puppet of his mother parading in front of him to hurt his human soul even more, but that was already getting on his nerves. Taunting him about the fact his mother ran to find him that fateful night wasn’t part of the usual games those filthy demons played – and to say they were honing his wrath was an understatement. “And I will never be back.”

“I… I cannot see you, Vergil. Where are you…? Why…?” He could hear the weeping in her voice, faint sobbing while the desperation made her words tremble. Vergil raised his head in the darkness, holding his own heart not to quiver: she wasn’t real and it was all a gimmick to affect him. He would not be affected. He was stronger than that. “Why couldn’t I save you? Those demons they… They hurt you, didn’t they? Oh, my child! My son! They hurt you and I could do nothing! I couldn’t be your mother!”

“Enough with this, filthy, hellish creature!” His voice finally exploded from his chest, roaring in the dark and echoing through the void, finding only silence. “You have no right to desecrate my mother’s memory like this! Shut your putrid mouth and stop with your rancid lies!”

The glint of the Yamato being unsheathed made the darkness recoil for a split second, only to envelop the Dark Slayer once more. His grip was tight, his eyes fiercely looking for his first opponent to direct a very well-placed judgement cut that could end all those creatures with just one swing of his hand. Vergil had enough and all the patience he carried in his being wouldn’t be enough to stop him from overkilling those demons – he just had to know where to direct his wrath.

“Don’t say those words, Vergil… You are not… Not like this.” Her voice still trembled, and his hand was still certain around Yamato. Vergil knew quite well at that state he was a weapon of mass destruction, he just had to find his opponent. His soul was screaming for him to do that, to put a stop to all that mockery. “You are good… You are my son.”

Vergil would have sliced that demon into a thousand million pieces without flinching, even if it took the form of his mother – but his eyes widened as a soft, warm hand touched his face. In all those years being taunted by demons, being tricked and mocked, seeing so many puppets of Eva, Sparda and Dante, none of them had touched him… And none of them genuinely felt like them.

It had been so many lost years he hadn’t felt his mother’s touch – last time, she could cup his entire face, thumb lovingly caressing his innocent eyebrows, but now her thumb could only reach his cheekbones. Nevertheless, it felt like her: not like a golden, nostalgic lost memory of how she felt, but exactly like Eva’s hands, even with the slight roughness of her continuous gardening.

“It took me so long to find you… I am so sorry.”

“You are not my mother.”

“Don’t say that.” Her answer was a sorrowful whisper, her thumb now carefully caressing his sharp cheekbone. Vergil closed his eyes, unable to move, convincing himself all of that wasn’t real and not allowing his heart to sway – forcing his arms to remain frozen by his side, fighting the urge to embrace her. Reminding himself: his mother was dead, killed while trying to save him, a long time ago, and nothing could bring her back. “Your heart hasn’t hardened as much as not to recognize me. You…” Her voice once more became soft, as if trying to do the same with his soul. “You are not a monster… You are my son, my Vergil.”

With those words, Eva’s hand was finally met with a tear – melting the ice from those silvery eyes.

*

There was an impending storm rumbling inside your chest.

Whenever that turmoil took ahold of your heart, you knew Vergil was in trouble. You had just finished checking your side of the cathedral, finding some things out of the ordinary but no demons, when the waves became aggressive in your chest. Your steps were already taking you to meet him, but you found yourself walking even hastier – the sound, though, eaten by the shadows that seemed to only grow around you.

Neither of you had calm seas of feelings: they usually raged like a maelstrom of emotions you could barely get through without some destruction – be it internal or external. But there was a certain note of melancholy and desperation in your heart at that moment that made you know Vergil was hurting – and that hurting, you knew quite well.

It was almost ironic how you apparently despised each other at the beginning, but after a while you came to understand; that aversion was there because you, in a certain way, were a mirror of each other. You could see in him the traits in your soul you disliked the most, and Vergil did see in you the same thing – those traits, however, were the same ones that brought you together, and made both you and Vergil feel seen and understood for the first time in your lives.

He didn’t judge your sins, as you didn’t judge his. To your eyes, he was never a monster, and to his, you could never be as crooked as you thought you were. You found each other in imperfection and, in that, you managed to talk and feel on the same level – after that, every feeling of admiration, care and love was easy to blossom.

You understood that storm, that thunder rumbling inside your chest at that very moment. You could feel it exactly the way he felt – and you knew Vergil needed help… Even if he would never say so himself.

You couldn’t hear or see him, though. You found yourself exactly at his area of patrol in the cathedral, but there was no clue as where your blue devil had gone – and for him to completely disappear, imposing presence and all, was quite an achievement in itself. The air was stiff, heavy as if the windows had never been opened, eating up any sound from the inside and the outside. The darkness was heavier than the one you had previously patrolled, shadows allowing only a few glimpses of the opulent decoration and the path in front of you – although, you couldn’t see more than a few meters beyond your feet.

If you couldn’t trust your sight or your hearing to find him, you could trust your heart: the storm would guide you. Closing your eyes, you allowed your feelings to take over, following with your footsteps in the direction you could hear his soul calling.

Those shadow creatures wouldn’t be able to hide him from you: no matter what happened or where you found yourselves, you would always be able to feel Vergil’s presence and find him in the darkest of hours.

And as the thunder in your chest cracked violently, your feet came to a halt and you opened your eyes.

Right in front of you, there was only darkness. Not like in the shadows that took the cathedral little by little, but pitch-black darkness, that no light could cast aside. To enter it would mean to be completely bare: vulnerable, lost, without guidance, naked – but the screaming in your soul made it very clear Vergil was in there.

Contrary to your lover, you were afraid of the dark. You always preferred to have a little light by your side, for you never knew what could be lurking alongside you, ready to pounce and drag you to certain suffering and death. You protected yourself by being forever vigilant, as you always did – a trait that exhausted you, yes, but luckily, in the last few years, you had Vergil around to keep a light by you when your body started giving out.

For that reason, you would never fear entering the darkness for him.

And with a deep breath, your bold steps took you inside the dark.

*

Your feet were cold, bare, stumbling over a sticky floor. Even if your eyes could see only darkness, you felt the freezing air of that night slicing your skin: you were shirtless and something was hurting… Oozing. The cold wind mixed with a faint warmness that leaked from the open wounds on your skin.

Blood. You were bleeding.

Your arms immediately wrapped around you – those scars, they were showing. They never showed before.

Running your hands quickly over your body, you could feel the warm blood slipping through your fingers; some wounds barely holding themselves closed while others still poured as in the day they were created.

That was the version of yourself you used to fiercely hide. None of those wounds were physical, none of them could be seen… But whenever you looked in the mirror, you saw them there, under your skin, under your soul, quietly resting until you couldn’t hide them anymore.

“You are lost…”

It was always the same voice, of something dark, something inside you that could break your soul if you didn’t shove it back into the darkness like you always did. That was why you were afraid; that was why Vergil always kept a faint glow by your side whenever you couldn’t hold yourself together. The dark was dangerous to you – to both of you.

“You are lost without me…”

“I can survive quite well without you…!” You growled to the darkness, keeping that part of yourself at bay. The part that gave in to the pain, that bathed in the blood and didn’t want to get up… And the part that would bathe and rise in rage, making you survive at great cost to those around you.

You were past that. And you didn’t need that to survive. You didn’t have to survive, you could live.

“Can’t you see that you’re lost…?”

“Vergil!” Your scream was a roar in the dark, looking for the one you plunged into the darkness to find. You wouldn’t give in to the trickery of those Piranhas – and you would get Vergil out of there.

They would learn they shouldn’t fear only the son of Sparda: they should also fear you.

“You think you can find him…?” After the mischievous ethereal voice questioned, you heard a giggle rippling around your feet as you stumbled on the sticky floor to find your lover. “You think you are that good? You think you aren’t a monster?”

You furrowed your brows, doing your best to ignore the voices. You knew it was that part inside of you that always taunted how broken you were, how imperfect your soul was. For the longest time you believed there was nothing good in you, nothing to save you from a life of loneliness, until you crossed paths with Vergil.

He was broken too – and he would never judge the things you did to survive your lethal wounds.

“Vergil! Can you hear me?! I’m here to find you!”

“How chivalrous, how heroic! What are you trying to accomplish?” The giggles pooled around your feet, threatening to drag you inside that pool of viscous darkness. “Trying to prove yourself? You’re never going to be perfect. You’re a black sheep, an outcast, remember? The likes of you aren’t heroes.”

“Oh, I’m no hero…” You growled back, fighting against the things trying to pull you back; fighting against the pain of the freezing cold and warmness of blood. “I’m a fucking fighter. You’re messing with the wrong kind of monster, fucking Hell Piranhas.”

“Piranhas…?” A faint whisper in the dark broke whatever control those things were trying to have over your body, starting at your feet. It was Vergil’s whisper – followed by a louder speaking tone. “Y/n! I can feel you, where are you?!”

“Trying to find you!” You screamed back, immediately dragging your feet towards Vergil. You couldn’t see him, but you could feel where he was – and there was nothing those demons could do against that.

The darkness seemed to shift for a couple of seconds. You couldn’t understand what was happening, but you saw a faint, ghostly pale glow in the dark – almost imperceptible, but your heart knew, you could finally see Vergil.

And, in return, he could see you. Moving his feet, Vergil dragged heavy shackles through the floor, screeching in a horrid, soul scratching sound as he willed his body to move towards you. You could hear him grunting with the effort, another set of chains being dragged as Vergil moved his arms – slowly, but surely, wearing all of his strength to get to you.

You felt the viscous ripples of the floor creeping up your legs, almost on your knees, doing their best to pull you away – back into the darkness, back to the taunting voices, to the doubt, the hurt, the self-loathing.

“Vergil! Let me hear your voice! You’re still there, right?!”

“Yes. I am always here.” His answer came with grunts of effort, barely above the noise of the chains screeching around him.

The darkness shifted again, and his form became even more visible, as yours did to him – followed by a scream that rumbled in his chest, Vergil managed to get even closer. That made something spark inside yourself, that thundering storm breaking in your soul cracking in a scream that broke the insidious tentacles holding you back and making you lunge forward.

Once again, the glow you diffused only to each other seemed to get stronger as the darkness wavered.

“Y/n…” He growled once more, the shackles screaming on the floor as he reached out to you.

“Vergil…!” You reached out in return, barely making out the form of his fingers in the dark.

As you were almost touching each other’s hands, the heavy, muffling darkness faltered once more. You could finally see one another, as you were in that godforsaken place.

Vergil was shirtless, his body covered in wounds – new and old – bleeding profusely. His silvery eyes were red, sunken in deep shadow, surrounded by a deep purple mist on his dry skin. You could see his bones under his pale skin covered in so many lacerations you wouldn’t even know where to start healing him. His knuckles were battered, showing the flesh underneath, as well as his wrists covered by heavy iron shackles – wounds from fighting against them for so long. His hands were still long and elegant, but bony and covered in bruises.

You had never seen Vergil so hurt, so broken, so… Vulnerable.

In return, his eyes took in shock the vision of you: as shirtless as him, as battered and wounded as he was. Even if not locked in the shackles he wore for so long in Hell, you walked barefoot leaving a trail of blood behind you. Those scars, those wounds, those bruises… He knew they were there, but he had never seen those. You looked weak and tired, bloodshot eyes under dry skin, as if you hadn’t slept in ages… And those things you fought so much to conceal, now crystal clear in front of him.

Those were the scars you carried inside yourselves. The wounds you had to fight against every day – that you had to try to heal, even if sometimes it seemed impossible. The things you would never show, but, somehow, you managed to sense it in each other… Now you could see it, clear as a bright night.

And, even if you wouldn’t admit to yourselves, those were the very same breaking thunders that would keep you moving – fiercely fighting, fiercely surviving.

As you took in each other’s internal selves, Vergil’s silvery eyes finally found yours.

A loud thundering noise shook the floor underneath your feet twice, as your hearts rumbled alongside the devastating sound. You lunged forward, holding Vergil’s hand as if your life depended on it. Never breaking your eye contact, Vergil held your hand with the strength you would expect of the legendary Dark Slayer. You made each other stronger, and there was nothing that could come between you now.

His shackles immediately screeched back, pulling Vergil violently away from you. At the same time, you were grabbed by the viscous darkness – your knees, your legs, your abdomen, your arms. It pulled you back with vicious strength, doing its best to drag you away from him – back into the darkness.

“Don’t let me go!” You screamed back, tightening your grip around his bony hand.

“I will never let go!” He growled, doing the same, trying to drag his body forward – failing to notice you willed yourself towards him as he pulled you into his arms. Those silvery eyes never moved away from yours.

“You are lost…! Lost…!”

The voices chanted and screeched around you, doing their best to drag you apart. For a moment, your hand slipped and you let out a desperate scream, hurting your lungs as you were almost pulled back into the void. Vergil’s cry resembled a roar as he willed his body to move and tightened his grip in a way he didn’t hold even Yamato.

He hadn’t held his brother’s hand once. This time he wouldn’t make the same mistake. This time, he would hold you even if that damned the both of you to the darkest pits of Hell.

“Can’t you see…? Can’t you see that…?”

“I am lost…!” You barked back to the voices, still staring into Vergil’s eyes, trying to catch your breath while your lungs stung as if you were inhaling a thousand knives.

As Vergil looked into your eyes, though, he knew exactly what you were going to say – and he could safely say it was the very same thing he struggled to find the words to.

“Without you.” His answer came in a dark tone, ragged from the effort he too made to be able to hold your hand.

The thunder rumbled twice again – the voices shrieked and you suddenly found yourselves being launched into each other’s arms as the forces that bind you broke into a million pieces.

Vergil’s arms wrapped around you, one of his hands holding your head close to his chest, as you wrapped yours around his waist, keeping him as close as you could. His head rested on top of yours, and you kept your eyes closed – washing away the blood above his heart with the tears that streamed down your face.

“Don’t ever hide from me.” Vergil’s voice was uncharacteristically shaky, somber but reassuring. You had never been so vulnerable in front of him – and even upon seeing you like that, his reaction was to take you in his arms, to welcome you. “I’m not afraid of the dark.”

“And I’m not afraid of your darkness.” You tightened your arms around his cold, bony body as you felt tears running through your hair. “I can see beyond your glimmer, and I’m not afraid of what’s in the dark.” Your voice shook as you took a deep breath and Vergil’s arms held you even closer – his body shaking with the tears falling from his eyes. “It’s you. And I’m never afraid of you.”

“Neither am I of you.”

His answer was but a whisper – a whisper enough to break the darkness into a memory to be kept away in the deepest pits of Hell.

I can feel the thunder that’s breaking in your heart I can see through the scars inside you

*

*

*

*

“You killed the Piranhas from Hell with the power of love?”

Vergil wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear. Or die. Or both.

Probably both.

The whole crew was there as you and Vergil never came back from the job as quickly as expected – and when you did, it looked like you hadn’t slept in days.

The priest was more than happy with the result of your work – even though you never discovered why the Weavers decided to come out of hiding nor what they wanted. The congregation was just happy they were gone and the whole reason behind it would be a long-term thing for the Devil May Cry to work on – or to keep an eye on; maybe something bigger was approaching.

You and Vergil didn’t feel like going back to the shop, though. When you were hurt physically, things were very much ok to deal with, but when the wounds were emotional… You needed time for yourselves.

Unlike his brother, Vergil was a little more responsible with his money – and you, a lot more than the two. You managed to find somewhere to spend a few nights… Which involved the both of you talking out everything you felt and saw. It was harrowing at first, something neither of you were versed in and honestly were terrified of, but it eventually brought you even closer together.

So, to say you had defeated the Lie Weavers with the power of love was something that killed Vergil inside.

And you could almost see his internal self, glaring at you with a ‘really, after all of this you say this kind of foolishness’ look in his sad, silvery eyes, as Lady stared at both of you and made the question everyone was thinking.

“Yep. Power of love, it’s a curious thing.” You shrugged, making Vergil physically groan by your side while Dante slapped his table with a huge grin on his face.

“Make a one man weep, make another man sing! Hell yeah, Back To The Future, babe!” He winked back at you as you smiled in response.

“Of all the people you could end up dating, Vergil…” Trish sat on Dante’s desk, crossing her long legs while sporting a devilish smile on her rosy lips. It was interesting how her voice could never really sound like Eva’s. “It had to be someone who references the same songs as your brother.”

“Alas, fate plays many games…” Vergil rolled his eyes, but as they rested on you, there was a vulnerability you saw only once in that pitch black darkness. “But it is kind enough to give us what we need.”

No one ever really understood what he meant, but Dante was the only one who managed to see something inside his brother’s silvery eyes that could only reflect in yours – and that made him genuinely smile.

Indeed, you would never be the romance of a fairy tale book or a romantic comedy – but you could see what lied beyond each other’s scars; taking a glimpse at the worst of each other without fear and finding whatever light was left inside. You could understand – and that was much more than most lovers in the world would ever have.

[shepherds-of-haven]

HIIIIII LENA !!! As you may already know due to my nonstop blabbering I'm very very much in love with the world of Blest 🥹 and I was wondering... do you see yourself making/compiling some sort of codex/art book in the future? Like, a book that has all the organized lore about Blest, maybe with the art you've already commissioned? I WOULD JUMP ON IT IMMEDIATELYYY, EVEN IF IT'S A KICKSTARTER ITEM OR COLLECTOR'S ITEM — just letting you know teeheeheehee

OH AND if a physical published book is too difficult, then a digital printable copy thing would also be AMAZING 🌈🌈🌈 I'd immediately get that printed and hard bound !!!

(lowkey if the answer is even the tiniest yes I WILL start slowly saving 😭 JUST !! A REAL LIVE SHOH CODEX !! RAAAAAAAAH )

Oh, but I hope this doesn't bother you 🥹 the thought just came to me and wouldn't leave me alone! Please don't feel like you need to make one or anything!

Hi snow!! 💖💖 Thanks so much for your lovely message, as always! As a matter of fact, I have been slowly putting together a digital art book/lore bible for Shepherds in my (extremely sparse) free time over the last two years or so: it's been extremely slow going, but it's basically got everything you're imagining, including concept art, official game art, behind-the-scenes tidbits and easter eggs, guides and walkthroughs, codex entries from Patreon, and more! A lot of it is more of my personal rambling and reasons behind certain design decisions or showing the progression of, say, the game's logo over the years, or the differences between the novels and the game, or my (or an artist's) thought process behind this or that, but there is a codex section that will have some organized lore as well!

It may not have all the organized lore about Blest, since I'll leave that for the in-game codex, but it will have some pages on stuff like religion, factions, races, magic, days of the week, currency, and things like that, along with the stuff we cover on Patreon like animals, food, maps, calendars, and etc.! :') I'm extremely skeptical about my own visual design skills when it comes to putting this together LOL but I've been doing my best! 💪 I was wondering if I should keep it a secret until closer to the game's official release, but your ask was so nice that I couldn't resist sharing!

This will be a digital artbook for now, bundled with the 'ultimate' edition of the game (which will also include the game's original soundtrack), since I don't think I have the time or bandwidth to figure out how mass printing and distributing physical books would work: that takes a lot of research both in which publisher and storefront is the best to use, how to keep costs down for the consumer, and also figuring out stuff like margins and bleed, which aren't as big of a deal for a digital PDF!

But I hope that answers your question! :D Thank you so much for your encouragement and praise as always, and I hope you're doing very well! 💖

[scribble-dribble-writes]

Absolutely adored your last story!

If you don't mind, I'd like to request something too. What about Miguel's reaction to the reader telling him they are with child? 👀 Feel free to write this to your heart's content 🩷

Have a great day! x

I'm not usually a fan of writing pregnant scenes unless and until it is absolutely required. Given Miguel's backstory, it is definitely required haha. So hope I did your ask the due diligence.

Hope you like it 💖💖💖

---

Magic

The digits in the clock changed with a click. It was past midnight and somehow, you couldn’t sleep. You laid still, soaking in the silence and taking comfort in the soft pale light that filtered into the room.

Arguably with what you learnt yesterday, your mind should have been a warzone but instead it was a question paper staring back at you, waiting for you to choose the right answer. You preferred the battle field. You sighed, the warm hand that rested on the peak of your hip trailed up higher making your skin feel smooth as if you were made of butter.

He pulled you closer to him, even in his sleep he craved for you presence. You had been warned about him, to not marry him and yet you heeded to no one’s advice. Instead, only choosing him when any struggle arose. He was always the answer, you couldn’t be without him and with how he nuzzled into your neck seeking comfort, you knew you held some value in his life too.

So if you were going to choose him again, you were having to say goodbye to a different chapter in your life.

“You're still awake aren’t you?”, he asked you, his voice raspy as he stirred from his sleep.

“How could you tell?”, you asked still laying as you were.

“Reading you has always been a part of my reflex.”, he mumbled with pride as he placed a soft kiss on your exposed shoulder.

You let out a quiet chuckle, now turning towards him to hide deeper into the panes of his chest. Skin on skin, there was no telling where his limbs intertwined with yours. The steady rhythm of his heart only made your throat drier.

“A charmer, even in the dead of night.”, you traced your finger over his collarbone to tuck your hand beneath his arm in the end.

“My spells won’t work on anyone else.”, he spoke with his eyes closed, still caught in the in between.

You didn’t intend to wake him, he was tired as is and now you were keeping him up. It stung you, the one thought that had been on your mind since yesterday. You were failing, in being a wife and now, as a mother.

“Because you’re the magic.”, his words dripped like candle wax, beautiful and yet it burned your heart.

“Only you think so.”, you closed your eyes, hoping to fall asleep as his hand rubbed your back, the soft gesture easing you to relax.

“Puedo preguntarte algo?”, his words had a little slur to them as you hummed in response.

“Why did you hide you were sick this morning?”, the calm in his voice made your eyes pop open as you drew in a sharp breath, now with him holding you so close, he could read you like a book.

“There was nothing to hide, Miguel.”, you were digging a deeper hole.

“It wasn’t all too concerning to trouble you.”, you were now wide awake.

“Mi cielo.”, he murmured.

“Come to me with all your troubles, por favor.”, even as he spoke you could tell this had weighed him down.

You were still thinking it through when he prompted you again, “So?”, he was lulling you to give up the truth.

“Why did you then sneak off to the doctor’s?”, now he was awake too. There was a certain bite to his words, crisp with tension and worry.

You didn’t need to see his eyes to tell that he was afraid, you could feel it in the way his muscles stiffened. The thought propped up again. That you were failing, at being his lover and his wife by keeping things from him.

But was your guilt and fear more important than his feelings?

To have put him through the worry of fearing he was going to lose you too.

He was always the answer, he would give up everything for you if you asked and you would do the same. Selfless for eachother that it often put you in a spot to make decisions for him.

But what would he say?

Did you want to put him through the pain of his past by placing a child in his hands?

“Because,”, you looked up at him, to note his gaze was already on you, hooked on your every word.

“I’m carrying your child.”, you let the words slip from your tongue, like you were letting go out the helm of your ship towards what could be the point of it’s destruction.

You were sure, that having lost his daughter once, he wouldn’t want to put himself through that heartbreak again. You watched as he tensed up again, to slowly rise up to rest his back against the head board.

“Oh.”, he said, but you couldn’t tell from his sober tone.

“So nothing life threatening.”, he reached out to caress your cheek.

“No.”, you drew yourself close to him. Ironic, that many believed you lit up his world but he was the fire to your winter. You only found respite in his arms.

“When did you come to know?”, he rubbed his thumb over your cheekbone.

“Yesterday.”, you told him, to which he hummed taking in the information.

But his eyes slid to yours, “Why didn’t you tell me?”, the way his eyes looked pale in the dim light, you not confiding in him had hurt him.

“Miguel, you know the life I come from.”, you turned serious, that somehow in his presence you couldn’t continue to lie anymore.

“What if I’m not a good mother? What if instead of building this family, I wreck it instead?”, you asked, your blood turning cold with images of this fear manifesting in your mind.

“And it would result in you being heart broken, over the child you lost.”, you slumped into the cover like a little pebble, giving in to the pull of your panic.

“I love that you think of me always, mi ángel.”, he reached for your waist to pull you up over his torso such that you could meet his eyes.

“But in this circumstance, you’re wrong.”, his index finger smoothed the wrinkles on your forehead as you fought back tears.

“I can see it in your eyes, you will be an excellent mother. Your love is endless and patient, you made me believe in all this again.”, he gestured to the setting around you.

“So don’t let your fears destroy you.”, he wiped the tear as it landed on your cheek.

“As for me.”, he paused, his eyes turning distant for a second.

“As much as I loved Gabriella as my own,”, he ran his fingers through your long hair.

“She wasn’t.”, he pursed his lips.

“This variant of mine had everything I could only dream off. Replacing him meant I only enjoyed a life that was a lie.”, he tucked your hair behind your ear.

“Which hurt more when I lost it.”, you could see the sadness in his eyes.

“Nothing was real from the beginning.”, he gave you a lopsided frown, which broke your heart as you felt his pain as your own.

“Almost as close to a figment of my imagination.”, he inhaled deeply to sigh.

“But you.”, the sadness vanished and in it’s place happiness restored his features.

“Our home.”, he looked up at the ceiling.

“It’s all real.”, he smiled, his eyes slowly trailing back to you.

“So no, this wouldn’t hurt me.”, he nudged your nose with his as though this was all you had to remember, to never forget that he was sure of this.

“I’ve wanted this, I want this next chapter for us. It's time.”, he confided in you as he closed his eyes to pull you closer, to rest your forehead on his and when you did, the question paper in you mind vanished. It didn’t have the answer you wanted to choose, because in this second you had both chosen to choose eachother.

“You surprise me in the best ways.”, you told him as you reached up to take his other hand.

Holding onto his fingers, you guided his hand over to place it over your womb and when he opened his eyes, there was a new passion in it. A new fervent resolution that what he had now, he would protect with his life, that his entire life was right here in the confines of his arms.

With that burning desire, he caught your lips with his. It was a sleepy kiss that was my no means perfect as the ones in the morning were but it was surely more important. You and him weren't going to be the only ones in this house anymore.

“Like I said.”, he spoke over your lips.

“You are magic.”, he said as he trailed his fingers over your lower abdomen.

So you kissed him again, softly, your hands scaling the incline of his back to hold his neck.

But he pulled away to catch his breath.

“Vamos, mami. You need to have a good sleep.”, he placed you into the side of your bed with a sudden air of discipline, as he had remembered what time it was.

“I’ll make you fresh lemonade in the morning to combat the sickness and also –

“You need your sleep too, papi.”, you cut him off before he began to panic and pulled his hand over your waist as he chuckled to settle into your covers.

“Bien, bien.”, he calmed down settling into the same lazy rhythm with his hand slung over you that finally made sleep arrive sooner than what you both had expected.

[wings-of-ink]

Looking for your Input for IF Patreon

Hello my friends and neighbors! I hope you are all safe and well. I had some things to share with you and I am once again fishing for thoughts and opinions.

Like many of us who create these IFs, I am strongly considering a Patreon. I have no plans to go exclusively to Patreon, so don't fret. I want to make extra content to go along with any IF I work on, and I'd like to be able to put more things into these projects such as real art (including character portraits), and not just the stuff I flounder through on Canva. I'd like to pay my artist a fair wage and devote more of my time to this. Getting some support would help me allocate even more to these projects and extras. I'm testing the waters here to see if it's sustainable for both myself and subscribers as well. I do not know what timeframe I'm looking at to start this either.

I only want to do this if it's worth the while for everybody, so I'm putting out feelers and asking for your input.

Most of all - I want to know what you want in a Patreon sub. I also want to know what you feel to be a fair sub price for different tiers. Over the years, when I have been able, I have subbed to help support my favorite creators at all different levels. So, I have some ideas on what I am looking for in a subscription, what keeps me coming back, and what prices are both fair for the effort of the creator as well as for my pocket. But, what suits me may not be what you want, so that's why I need some feedback.

Below, I have compiled my ideas, so far, for possible tiers. None of these are set in stone, just a framework to build on to see if I'm on the right track. At the bottom is a poll (of course, it's like my favorite thing), and is probably the first of a few about this topic I will use. I welcome comments and suggestions on this topic. Tell me what you are looking for in a Patreon. What do you want from one each month? What keeps you subscribed? Please feel free to comment below or to send comments and suggestions via the Ask inbox, especially if you prefer to be anon (do let me know if you do not want your response posted - I may post some that either have questions or that I find relevant to the conversation).

I still do not know for certain what the ultimate future of God-Cursed will look like (meaning when it is all finished). I've played with the idea of eventually refining it to sell on itch and/or Steam. I have to admit that being able to do so would really feel like a huge accomplishment to me. I've always had dreams of being published and such, and it feels like a part of that dream. I, personally, prefer to buy IFs through either platform whenever I can. It supports my favorite authors, shows my appreciation, it compiles my favorite stories into an easy-to-find library, and I can relive my favorite stories over and over easily. So, needless to say, this is calling to me more and more.

Anyway, what I have come up with so far for possible offerings are these. Please let me know if something like this would work for you or if you have any suggestions for improvement:

An appreciation/tip jar - if the other tiers aren't for you or you just want to give a little love. Subscribers could get updates and public posts, and participation in polls.

A "Supporter" level - all the other stuff plus GC demo releases 1 month (30 days) in advance. I debated about the time, but I want to really make the early access feel worth it. This level would also be privy to some "insider" info (things cut, character development, the egregious typos, etc…). Of course there would be some sort of dev-log to go with this as well.

A "Plus" tier - all the above plus early release of demos for other IFs, more "behind the scenes" type things, and I'm thinking some POVs and other extra content (some interactive) such as short stories. These extras need not be exclusive to IFs either if anyone is interested in other things I write.

"SMUT" or "Spicy" tier - (being very honest, I'd be the most excited for this tier, lol) all the above including all things smut for each IF. This will include interactive extras, short stories, and any other horny content we want. Likely will run some polls and take suggestions for the spice you desire each month.

"Smut plus" (lol) - all the above, PLUS a patreon-only IF that I will have in the works (so, access to 3 projects in total). I have an idea for an IF that will focus on 1 RO at a time (each with their own complete and unique story within the same world), and I am itching to write it even if updates for it will be a bit slow. It will be more like a traditional dating sim type thing and may comprise all sorts of genres. This may be one that would be good for just subscribing on months that will have updates, and that's something I would probably post about publicly so if you're just interested in getting access, you don't have to worry about staying subbed.

And finally a sort of "Power Supporter" tier - this may be like a limited number sort of thing and be a bit pricey (not sure yet how much). You'd get a custom interactive story set in whatever world of mine you want that can be spicey or not. You'd give me all your MC's details (mostly cannon things but some liberties could be taken), physical traits and personality, and pick your RO and/or other desired characters. I'd take prompts or ideas from you as well concerning what you'd like in the story. You want a sexcapade - you can have that. You want to have tea with Oswin and his weird twin sisters - you got it. The main limitations are spoilers, of course, especially for any mystery ROs depending on when and if this all comes to pass. There may be some subject-matter that I will not write about, but I'd let you know what is out of bounds for me.

Naturally, I would also pop your name in the credits, I just don't know which tier that should go on.

So, there you have it. This has been on my mind for a while and I've gotten some questions and messages asking about if I will do something like this, so I'd like to give it a go at least.

Looking forward to hearing your ideas and desires! ^_^

~Lunan

[starlight-write]

Master Escape Artist

Finished this in a sleep-deprived haze but wanted to get this one out before starting on Tickletober this year. This fic is heavily inspired from these headcannons from @cloudysfluffs

Also, I'd like to issue a formal apology for going MIA for literal months on end as I've been focusing on schoolwork and getting my certification but I'm hoping to get back into writing for this blog.

Anyways, hope you enjoy and feel free to send in any suggestions or prompts you'd like to see!

Pairings: Ler!Wendy, Switch!Dipper, Switch!Mabel (All Platonic)

Word Count: 3.5k (JEEZ)

Summary: Mabel has a reputation for being a ruthless tickler, dishing out tickle attacks to her friends and family whenever possible. To make matters worse, Mabel prides herself at being a so-called 'Master Escape Artist' as not a single person has been able to catch her. However, Mabel might've pushed her luck a bit to far when inadvertently challenging a certain friend who is more than ready to put her to the test.

Warnings: This is obviously going to be a tickle fic. Don't like? DOn't interact.

"AAAAHH-!! MABEL!- MABEL DOhohohoHOHON'T!! PLEHEHEHAAHAHAHAHA!!!-" Dipper squealed from his place on the floor where his twin had him pinned by the waist, as she ruthlessly dug her claws into his overly sensitive ribcage.

Dipper pushed, and screamed, and squealed as he fought frantically to escape even though he knew it would do him no good...he had been on the receiving end of his sister's cruelty enough to know that the moment she set her sights on you, it's over.

"Tickle, tickle, tickle! What's so funny, Dipper? I know you think that rude little joke you just made was hilarious, but you gotta get a hold of yourself!" Mabel said as she smiled through gritted teeth and dug in harder.

The twins had been hanging out in their room not five minutes ago when the topic of Mabel's weekly crush came up. Some boy she made eye contact with at the diner who was organizing stickers or something. This one's different! It's love at first sight...again.

Dipper just flipped through the pages of his journal as half-listened to Mabel's love-sick rant. He might've had a passing thought to himself that wasn't as silent as he had hoped. Something along the lines of making sure that boy didn't make out with his stickers or something like that.

And that little slip-up was what had got him chased all throughout the Mystery Shack until he was finally tackled to the floor of the gift shop, where Soos and Wendy happened to be no less, and was now getting the snot tickled out of him.

"AAAAAAAAHH!!! STOHOHOHOHOP! PLEHEHEHESE-IT WAS JUHUHUST AHAHA JOHOHOKE!! IHIH'M SOHORRY!!"

Wendy had long put down her magazine as she watched the scene unfold in front of her. Resting her chin in her hand and leaning over the counter as she watched her friends play. Soos, on the other hand, seemed to be avoiding eye contact at all costs, still sweeping as he pretended not to notice what was happening.

Eventually, Dipper's frantic squealing died down when Mabel had slowly gotten off of him once she decided he'd had enough. She offered a hand, but the boy opted to curl into a ball instead as he worked on recovering from the attack.

Mabel bent down to poke her brother's head condescendingly as she spoke, "Next time, think twice about poking fun at my love life!" The girl laughed playfully.

"Dang Mabel, you're pretty ruthless. Honestly thought you were trying to kill him for a sec." Wendy commented from her spot behind the counter.

"Oh, that?" Mabel laughed. "That was nothing. Couple nights ago Grunkle Stand and I got him so good he was hiccuping for at least ten minutes after we stopped!"

"Mabel!" Dipper hushed from his fetal position still on the floor.

The boy forced himself to at least sit upright and save at least some dignity. He turned away to grab his hat he had shaken off during the tussle hoping it would help hide his burning face from Wendy.

The older girl just chuckled at the scene before turning her focus back to Mabel.

"Y'know, I'd watch my back if I were you. Push your luck too far and Dipper's bound to get revenge sooner or later."

Mabel barked out a laugh before chucking herself, as if what Wendy had just said had been the most ridiculous thing she'd ever heard.

"HA!- Hahahahahaa. Oh Wendy, Wendy, Wendy, you're hilarious! But I'll have you know Dipper, and everyone else for that matter, has already tried their luck and failed miserably. I'm a master escape artist and way to slippery for Dipper's sweaty little hands." Mabel giggled at hearing another hushed protest from her brother.

"In fact, I don't think I've been tickled in years! Guess everyone just gave up trying since they know it's pointless, that and the fact that I always get them back for even trying!"

Never in her life had Wendy seen so much cheek from a single person before now.

"Oh? I wouldn't say that if I were you, squirt. You might jinx your luck and test the wrong person." Wendy said looking down at the other.

"No. Mabel's right, unfortunately." Dipper chimed in, picking himself up off the floor with a small huff. "She's impossible to catch, not just for me and Grunkle Stan but our parents, Candy, Grenda, it really doesn't matter. No one stands a chance at catching her unless she wants to be caught."

"See!" Mabel smirked and gestured towards her brother. "I got tons of references! This master escape artist had yet to be defeated! My perfect streak remains unbroken and I dare anyone who would try to break it!"

Mabel boasted herself with the upmost confidence anyone would expect from a naive twelve-year-old. However, what she didn't notice was the older girl in front of her stretching her muscles during her entire rant.

"Welp, guess that settles it then." Wendy honed her eyes on her friend. "You ready?"

"Wait what-"

Mabel barely had time to blink before Wendy had effortlessly jumped over the counter meer inches from grabbing her. The girl shouted in surprise as she scurried away to the opposite side of the room.

Not wasting a second, Wendy ran towards her. Mabel shouted again, completely caught off guard by this turn of events which had unfortunately cost her a few precious seconds.

The younger girl managed to slip past her attacker and jump over a pile of merchandise which she toppled over in hopes to trip the other.

Mabel sprinted towards Soos, who was frozen and staring in shock at what was unfolding in front of him. Already flustered and feeling awkward from being in the same room as someone getting tickled, he did NOT want any part of what was happening now.

"AH-Dude! I really don't think you guys should be doing this-!" Soos exclaimed nervously towards the kid who was now behind him. Mabel managed to run behind her friend and grab onto him and was now using Soos as a human shield.

Soos grew even more sweaty and awkward as Wendy faced him and attempted to reach around to grab Mabel. The two kept this up for almost a full minute and Soos thought he was about to die of embarrassment.

Dipper, however, was having a blast! Never before had he seen his twin struggle this much to outrun somebody! Not to mention she actually looked nervous! Oh, how Dipper wished he had a camera on him right now! Mabel may have actually pushed her luck too far this time.

Realizing the human-shield plan wasn't working out to well as she'd hoped. Mabel climbed up on her friend's shoulders and managed to slide herself on top of the vending machine.

Unfortunately for her though, Mabel forgot she was being chased by an actual lumberjack.

Wendy followed her up with no difficulty and with no other places to climb, she managed to grab the girl around her torso.

Dipper gasped, thinking his sister had finally gotten herself caught. Until Mabel raised both arms above her head and slipped out of her sweater and off the vending machine with a surprising amount of grace.

Wendy grunted in frustration and tossed the sweater on Soos's head before jumping off herself and resuming their little chase.

Mabel sprinted towards the door of the gift shop. There's no way Wendy would be able to catch her if she'd managed to get outside. Almost there...

Almost!

It was at that moment that Dipper had made the split-second decision to sabotage his sister's escape by lifting his leg up to trip her up before she ran pass him.

The girl fell to the floor with a loud oomf, eyes going wide as she realized what had just happened.

Dipper felt a pang in his chest at the utterly betrayed look on his poor sister face. But that was soon forgotten as Wendy caught up to them and used her weight to pin Mabel down to her spot on the floor.

"Nice one, Dipper!" Wendy have him a thumbs up and a wink which of course caused the tween to stutter and blush.

"Oh! W-Well y'know, I-I just thought th-that I m-might as well try a-and-"

"LET ME GOOO!!!! AGH-NOOOO!!" Dipper's Stuttering was interrupted by his sister's panicked wailing.

Mabel fought and thrashed and shrieked as she struggled to wriggle herself out from under Wendy, who was now scrambling to catch Mabel's arms in order to pin them down.

"AAH- NONONONONO!! THIS ISN'T FAAAIR!! YOU CHEHEHEHEATED!! THIHIHIHIS DOESN'T COHOHOHOHOUNT!!!"

Oh God, Mabel was losing it. She must've already guessed what was coming if that utterly panicked laughter was anything to go by. Dipper couldn't remember seeing Mabel this nervous over anything!

As she'd mentioned earlier, it had been years since Mabel was on the receiving end of one of these attacks, so safe to say that she wasn't at all prepared for what was no doubt coming her way.

"Dipper! Ack- A little help?!" Wendy grunted as she dodged Mabel's flailing limbs.

"Oh! Right- Sorry!" Dipper said awkwardly as he shook his thoughts away and seated himself right above his sister's head.

Mabel's desperate protests doubled down as she watched Dipper approach her. She bargained and apologized and begged her brother not to do this to her as her thrashing continued.

Dipper just huffed out an apologetic laugh at her dramatics. "Heh. Sorry sis, but you've had this coming for a while now. Plus, you did tickle the snot out of me just now so I don't think begging is gonna get you outta this one..." Dipper said as he playfully ruffled her hair before reaching out to grab her wrists.

Oh she was so screwed...

Mabel screwed her eyes shut and threw her arms down over her torso and locked them around herself with an iron grip, suddenly realizing how exposed her upper body was without her sweater.

"Alright, you wanna play that game, huh?" Wendy let out an evil chuckle. "Well then, let's see how long you'll be able to keep that up." The older girl said before pinching what little she could reach of the younger girl's sides.

The answer was, apparently: not long at all.

Mabel broke immediately at the overwhelming tingling sensation the fingers brought to her sides. The girl howled and shot her arms down to grab at the offending hands. To which, Wendy twisted her wrists out of the girl's grip and finally managed to get a hold of the appendages.

"Dipper!" Wendy called out for the other to take the girl's wrists which the tween struggled to pull back above her head, eventually managing to pin them down although it nearly his entire body weight.

Wendy leaned back and wiped the sweat off her brow. "Phew! Gotta say kid, I underestimated you! You definitely weren't lying about being a, what'd you call it? "Master Escape Artist"?" The teen chuckled. "Luckily for me though that your latest victim was right here ready to sell you out, huh?" Wendy laughed and she shot Dipper another thumbs up.

The teasing only served to darken the girl's already pink face as she frantically shook her head. "You guhuhuhuhuys cheatehehehed! I'll get you guhuhuys bahahahack fohor this, I swehehear!"

The older girl just tutted and shook her head down at her. "There's that cocky attitude again. Well, maybe you'll learn to have a bit of empathy for you little victims once you've had a taste of your own medicine..."

And with that, Wendy's fingers found their way back to the poor kid's sides. Slowly spidering up to the bottom of the girl's ribcage and down again to the top of her hips.

Up...and down...and up...and down...

Mabel couldn't hold back the shriek that punched its way out of her throat.

The poor kid began kicking her feet out frantically and arched her back and the torturous feeling. Practically growling as she gritted her teeth and pressed the back of her head to the floorboards. Hoping to relieve at least some of the unbearable tingling in her stomach.

The gentle gliding of the older teen's fingers absolutely threw Mabel for a loop and did absolutely nothing to quell the swarm of butterflies that had followed her ever since the beginning of their little chase.

She had expected Wendy to go ham on her right off the bat just as she'd done to Dipper not even five minutes ago, but nope. Wendy's fingers just continued to glide their way up and down Mabel's sides, never straying from that agonizingly slow pace. Over and over and over again...

Eventually, Mabel's frantic thrashing had died down and the shrieking protests from before had dissolved into a stream of high-pitched cackling.

"Still feeling all high and mighty ya little brat?" Wendy playfully chuckled down at her friend. "Jeez, I wonder how this 'Master Escape Artist' is gonna get out of this one."

Mabel gritted her teeth at that comment, managing to stifle her laughter for a moment.

"Y-Yohohou guhuys are thehe wohohohorst!"

Dipper couldn't help but laugh a bit at his twin's predicament. "Aww, what's the matter Mabel? You not enjoying this game now that you're on the other end of the stick, huh? Maybe now you'll think twice before dishing out what you can't take."

"I'LL KIHIHIHILL YOU!!"

Wendy and Dipper both laughed at Mabel's dramatic outburst. Their teasing seemed to really be doing a number on her. Dipper made sure to remember that for later...

"Y'know what?" Wendy chimed in. "Maybe I'm being too nice...we really need to drill this lesson into her."

No sooner had the word left her mouth had the gentle gliding stopped, before Wendy's fingers began mercilessly drilling into the younger girl's hips and the frantic shrieking started up again.

"NAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAAA- STAAHAHAHA- STAHAP IHIHIT!!! NAHAHAHAA!!"

The absolute switch from zero to a hundred left the poor tween scrambling to form any sort of coherent words, completely unprepared for the sudden attack.

Dipper, being the good brother he is, had been keeping close watch on his sister's reactions during this entire ordeal. He had already guessed that Mabel wouldn't cope as well as he did being on the receiving end of their little game and although it felt good to finally get some revenge, the thought of pushing his twin past her limits worried him a bit.

So it was no surprise that he'd noticed the little hiccup Mabel's breath took as she was shocked with the sudden rougher tickling, and how she was struggling to accommodate for it through her frantic laughter.

With that, Dipper had motioned for Wendy to stop. The older teen had retracted her hands almost immediately, worried she'd gone to far until Dipper gave her a thumbs up along with a reassuring smile as the two of them waited for Mabel to catch her breath.

The girl kept her eyes squeezed shut as she gulped in air, refusing to look at either of them right now.

"Hah...you guhuhuys...are...evil." Mabel complained, which only earned her more chuckling from her tormenters.

"You still makin' it, squirt?" Wendy asked, ruffling her hair. "You looked like you were struggling there for a second."

Mabel scoffed, finally opening her eyes just to roll them at that last comment.

"Oh please! As if you guys would break me that easy! A little tickling isn't gonna make me curl up and die, I'm not Dipper after all!" She said as she shot a defiant grin up at her brother. One that definitely said that she'd get him back for this later.

Dipper and Wendy stared at one another, completely shook at the utter audacity of this bi-

"Wow. This really is her first time, huh?" Wendy asked as she cracked her knuckles.

"If it weren't obvious enough already, yeah." Dipper responded, adjusting his position on her upper arms. His expression was a lot less amused than the older girl's at that last jab. "Flip her over."

"Wait, what?!-" Mabel's smug grin was immediately replaced with confused panic as the two of them quickly flipped her over on her stomach faster than she could react.

"Hey!" Mabel protested as her thrashing picked back up once again and the other two struggled a bit to regain their grip on her.

Once they steadied themselves, Wendy shot her friend a questioning look, asking where they were going with this.

Dipper struggled a bit longer but eventually regained his footing even as his sister tried to bite him twice.

"Finally." Dipper sighed before acknowledging his friend's questioning look.

"Well okay, uh so...this is j-just a minor d-detail I've noticed a uh...a while back-it might not even be true, b-but I- uh- figured it'd be worth a shot..." Dipper struggled as he tried to cough out an explanation. Suddenly feeling very nervous about exposing this information to his crush.

"So uh...t-there's this one sp-spot I've noticed t-that is pretty...bad for uh- pretty much o-our whole family so I...I- uh- thought that-that might be something we could uh- t-try."

Wendy chuckled a bit to herself as she sat back and watched her friend stutter hopelessly through his word vomit. "Aaaaaand? What spot might that be, Dipper?" The redhead asked with a smug smile plastered on her face.

On the other hand, Mabel was a lot less amused by her twin's pathetic stuttering as a new wave of panic dawned on her when she realized exactly where Dipper was about to take this. And if this little hunch of his was right, and that this spot was even half as bad as it was for Dipper?...

Yeeeeah...Maybe that latest jab at her brother wasn't the brightest idea.

Mabel couldn't see her twin gesture towards the small of her back as she let out her own string of stutters that rivaled her brother's.

"W-Wait. Guys, c-come ohohon! P-Please? I was j-just joking around! L-Let's go do something else...I'm g-getting bored of this already..."

Mabel also couldn't see the truly evil grin Wendy flashed as she looked down at her once again.

"Oh, alright...if that's really the case then you can just apologize to Dipper for that little insult and for that cocky attitude of yours. That last one shouldn't be too hard, considering you've finally been defeated..."

"-AND you have to promise not to try to get either of us back after this!" Dipper made sure to add that little detail, more for his own sake than Wendy's as Mabel would surely go after him first.

But as always, Mabel's pride got the best of her...

"No way! Nuh-uh! Nada! You guys cheated and deserve whatever I- EEEEAAAAAAAA- AAAAAAHAHA-WAAAAAIT!!!- WAITWAITWAIT- NOHOHOHOHOOOO!!!"

"Welp, we tried." Wendy snickered as her fingers scribbled relentlessly on the tween's lower back.

Okay, yeah. Mabel definitely regretted that statement.

Oh gosh, it was so much worse than she thought...

Mabel had completely flipped out the second those fingers began wriggling on her back. Shocks of ticklish energy zipped throughout her entire body as her worst spot was tormented. The poor girl absolutely howled with laughter as she struggled harder than ever before to escape.

Her mind spun at the absolutely torturous feeling. The ruthless tickling left her brain to scrambled to even get a word out through her screeching fit, unable to apologize even if she wanted too.

Mabel wasn't sure how long this went on or when exactly she had been freed from the weight of her tormenters because the moment she regained consciousness, she found herself curled into a fetal position on the floor...

Dipper and Wendy groaned painfully as they sat up from the floor, where they had landed after Mabel had bucked and thrown them off during her struggle.

Mabel had survived a whole eleven seconds (Dipper counted) of back tickling before gaining some kind of god-like strength and was able to throw both of them off of her from sheer force of will.

"Hey...you ok?" Dipper asked as he made his way over to his twin.

"What...happened?" Mabel huffed.

"You LAUNCHED us dude!" Wendy laughed as she stood up and made her way to her friends. "Would never have guessed you had that kind of muscle in you! Girl doesn't know her own strength 'til being tickled to death, huh?" Wendy teased, giving her friend a playful punch to the arm. "You alright though?"

Mabel sat up as she regained her bearings. "Yeah...just uh...slightly traumatized." She said with the most shell-shocked expression she could muster, earning a laugh from the two on either side of her.

"Well, I guess this means that you've gained a bit of perspective and you'll go easier on us from now on, huh?" Dipper asked a bit hopefully.

Mabel slowly turned towards her brother. Fixing her gaze on him as she remembered he had betrayed her not once, but twice in the last half hour.

"Yeah. You'd like that wouldn't you?" Mabel said coldly before launching herself at her brother the second time that evening.

Dipper had barely managed to dodge as he scrambled off the floor. "W-Wait! Mabel we can talk about this!!"

And with that, yet another chase had broken out that evening. Wendy laughed to herself as she watched the two twins sprint frantically throughout the Mystery Shack, deciding to leave them to it before clocking out and going about the rest of her day.

A/N: Whew, okay I'm absolutely exhausted after this one and I'm not to sure if I stuck the landing or not. Either way, hope you enjoyed and lmk what you think!

[fushiglow]

Hi! I'm such a huge fan of your fics; you write Satoru and Suguru really beautifully, as individuals and as a unit.

I absolutely devoured JJK (anime and manga) in the span of like three weeks a couple of months ago. I've been completely obsessed ever since. I really love your meta - I totally agree with you about Gojo really caring about people, and your analysis of 236. (I also really loved 236, even though I was devastated by it. Like, sobbing while lying facedown on the floor for a full 45 minutes level of devastated lol.) I really struggled with Nanami's airport comments on Gojo, and I liked how you interpreted those comments and the airport scene overall.

In my stages of grief of processing Gojo's death - probably around the bargaining stage - I kept thinking about whether he would've lived if Geto hadn't defected from JuJutsu society. Obviously it would've been a totally different narrative, but it's still something I can't let go of. I'd be super interested to know your thoughts on that - whether there would've been a different outcome of the Shinjuku showdown if Geto had been there. (I mean, I know canonically Gojo would've fully been satisfied in his life and ending if Geto had been there, but would he have won?)

(I also understand the narrative decision to kill Gojo and think it actually makes a lot of sense, doesn't mean I can't still go through the stages of grief lol.)

Sorry for the novel of an ask - love your writing and meta!

Oh my gosh, thank you so much and don't ever apologise for sending such a lovely ask! This made my day — and super nice to see your name in my inbox again too ♥️

Really glad you enjoyed the analysis of 236 too; that chapter is incredibly dear to me. God, I could literally write an essay on 236 alone. I think it's genius on multiple levels. It really inspired me as a writer, too. That meta level commentary that spans characters and readers is something I've consciously tried to emulate as a result of that chapter!

So, I have definitely given this some thought before and it's my firm belief that Gojō would have defeated Sukuna if Getō were at his side (I think you can argue he "won" the ideological fight. It was a fight of many against one, and the many couldn't have won without Gojō!).

I don't necessarily mean physically at his side fighting alongside him, because I think as soon as Gojō had his "enlightenment" moment, he did become someone who fights best alone. However, I've already shared some thoughts about how "the strongest" was perhaps never actually about raw physical strength for Gojō but about state of mind. He felt stronger with Getō at his side, and that's the only reason I feel this certain about my answer.

Of course, all "what if?" scenarios are pointless to pursue beyond being an intriguing thought exercise. Everything would have been different if Getō was still around, but I love cataloguing each and every one of them. Whether Gojō would be a less experienced fighter in any meaningful way, whether the students could have reached the heights that they did without that specific version of Gojō teaching them — and yes, whether "The Strongest Duo" fighting side by side would actually have made defeating Sukuna (even with the Ten Shadows) look like a piece of cake.

So, my answer is mostly narrative informed. I think throughout the entirety of JJK, Gege was trying to hammer home the idea of strength in numbers by contrasting Gojō Satoru's (and Sukuna's) solitude with that of his students — thanks to his efforts to protect their youth and ensure they didn't suffer the same fate he and his classmates did.

I hope that answers your question, and thank you for asking! It's been a long time since I've received any JJK based asks like this and it's always such a treat to me. God, I love this series so much...

[jumpywhumpywriter]

do you have any tricks for getting your brain to listen to you and Actually Write

YES! There are several useful tricks I use to get motivated or jumpstart my brain into writing mode (because brains have a mind of their own sometimes and are incredibly stubborn). It doesn't work 100% of the time but here's all the stuff I try that can increase chances of successful writing by a large amount:

1. Listening to music scientifically stimulates the parts of the brain that control imagination and creativity, which can really help get you going. For me, I like to find songs that represent certain characters or particular moods based on what scenes I'm writing. This has helped me a TON in writing. Example: if I'm writing a sad death scene, I like to listen to sad/melancholy music to help bring me the emotions that I can then transfer to the characters I'm writing, or giving me the right "mindset" for certain scenes. Action scenes would be something like adventurous or rock music. (If you'd like, I have an awesome list of perfect music for different moods I could share that you can try out and see if it helps -- songs that are like "saying goodbye to someone" themed, etc.)

This has literally saves me so many times, and is my #1 go-to method above all others.

2. Try writing something different or unrelated to your main story, just to keep your mind sharp and active until the inspiration comes. It could be a random funny/fluff scene including your characters, OR it could be completely unrelated -- you'll see this in a lot of my writing I've posted on Tumblr Almost 100% of the stories I've posted here are ones I made completely unrelated to the fantasy trilogy I'm writing (located in Masterlist #2). Because I have learned about myself that my best work comes from when I'm "in the mood" for it. If I try to force myself to have a certain amount of chapters I write each day for my main story, I tend to burn out and the quality of my writing declines very obviously. So I write what seems fun in the moment, just to keep my imagination active until the creativity comes and I can switch back to my fantasy trilogy. Try not to limit yourself with the "I have to write every single day", it's perfectly fine to take breaks and write other short stories and snippets, or even take a break from writing altogether.

3. Okay, this one is going to sound kind of weird and quirky, but PROTEIN. For some odd reason, I think better when I have plenty of protein in my system. So eating foods high in protein (or even just using protein powder for a quick boost) an hour before you plan to sit down and write can actually make a noticeable difference in your mental energy. It's so weird, but it surprisingly works for me, so I just thought I'd throw it out there as another option.

4. Getting fresh air. Literally a lifesaver. You can take your phone/whatever electronic you write on outdoors, find a nice shady place to sit down and write away. This helps in particular with writing scenes where characters are outdoors as well, because you can use your own senses to observe your surroundings and weaving it into writing (like "the air was crisp with the scent of fresh-cut grass" or something like that.) It's also scientifically proven to boost mood, and can help your mind wander until it stumbles upon inspiration.

5. EXERCISE! it releases a bunch of dopamine into your system that makes you feel happy and has many mood-boosting effects, great for creating a solid foundation to let inspiration flow in!

I hope all this helps! (And if it doesn't, or you need advice on a particular area of writing, feel free to ask for more!)

[theranilord]

This is the first fan fic I've written since the 90s, but Stobotnik has me full tilt. Waiting for Sonic 3 I rewatched Sonic 2 and Wade's ease at rolling up to the Mean Bean and that whole scene put this idea into my head... what if Stone wasn't just waiting on the Doctor?

-----

The first month without the doctor had been spent sitting alone in his trailer, surrounded by bandits, searching the continent for any trace of Ivo Robotnik. Then the world. Then the milky way.

Nothing.

Stone found nothing.

The second month had been spent setting up a secret base in his last known location.

Green Hills, Montana.

It was easy enough for someone as skilled in deception as Agent Stone. Forge some signatures, flash some documents and no one questioned how quickly he had the Mean Bean coffee shop ready for "business". Stone was always a diligent worker and his focus was renowned. It was why he fit so well with Robotnik, to the dismay of many.

However, there was one thing Stone had not prepared for, and as he began closing up shop his problem came rolling into view.

"Hey! Catch you at a bad time?" Wade Whipple walked in. The wannabe Sheriff of this backwater cesspool had begun to get on Stone's last nerve. If he had two brain cells to rub together Stone would think Wade was stalking him.

"Actually, yes." Stone said rolling his eyes as he turned to grab a broom. "I'm closing." He grabbed a small dustpan and waved it with the most sarcastic smile he could muster. Ivo would be proud. At least Stone hoped he would be.

"Oh. Right. Yeah, cause you don't live here." Wade said with a self deprecating smile. Silence fell and Stone was certain the deputy had gotten the point.. until he spoke again. "You're coffee is just so good. Like, it flows in your veins." Wade laughed at his own joke then made it worse when he kept talking. "Not like I think you're made if coffee, but you're just wow with it. Like, did you go to school to make it? Some kinda secret coffee school? It's very... wow." He finished quietly, suddenly aware of former Agent Stone staring at him with an empty face.

"No. I practice." Stone dumped the dustpan into the trashcan and set it down in it's proper place beside the broom holder. Doctor Robotnik would appreciate the order and cleanliness. "What can I do for you, Deputy Whipple?" Stone asked refusing to contain his impatience. Formal titles were good at that with most people, but once again these simple social cues were lost on Wade.

"Well, I've seen you around lately and I wondered if.. you want a tour? Like, being new in town? I can show you the ropes around here. I'm kinda important." Wade gave a small laugh, and Stone had to admit that under different circumstances he might find it charming, but he and his heart belonged to Robotnik.

Suddenly an idea popped into his head and he slowly smiled his most charming smile at the bumbling man before him. "Why, Deputy, I'd love to see your quaint little town. I bet there are so many places to see." Stone began advancing on Wade slowly. "Secrets to learn. I bet you know everything about this..." Stone stopped in front of him "...adorable..." he put a hand on Wade's chest "...little..." they locked eyes "...town."

Wade's heart skipped a beat and he felt his stomach begin to twist into knots. He let out a loud nervous laugh, scaring himself. "Pssh, yeah. I... I..." Looking into the baristas eyes he suddenly lost all words and just began nodding.

Stone gave a large and undeniably fake smile as he took Wade's arm in his. "Good. Good. Why don't you meet me here tomorrow night at 8pm. You can show me all your secrets." As Stone led Wade to the door, Wade began laughing nervously.

"Yeah, I can. Do that, yes. We will. Tomorrow?" He repeated, his mouth feeling dry.

"Tomorrow. Goodnight..." Stone leaned forward and Wade followed his example, closing his eyes and puckering his mouth for a kiss in a rather unseemly manner. "Wade." Stone said seductively, closing the door in Wade's still puckered face. The lock clicked and the blinds fell, breaking Stone's spell on the other man.

"Goodnight..." Wade walked over to his new scooter and began rolling away.

Inside, Agent Stone began pulling up the files on the blue menace and his would-be family. Maybe, this stupid little one horse town could be useful after all...

[enlitment]

Do you have any book/movie/podcast recs for entering the frevblr Fandom? I'm very into marie Antoinette, but I want to dive into the rest of it

Hi, thanks for the ask!

Marie Antoinette is an interesting gateway to frevblr, as she tends to be quite unpopular here. But I'm certain that if your interest in her runs deeper than an appreciation for the glamour and aesthetic, you'll fit right in!

MOVIES

I myself started with watching La Révolution française (1989). The movie has been criticised a lot here, and for good reasons, but I still think it works well as an introduction, as long as you don't treat it as the literal truth.

Plus, finding differences between the movie and a more accurate historical interpretations is, at least for me, part of the fun! You can watch it here. I would definitely recommend watching the second part with subtitles, as @saint-jussy points out some of the movies... biases as the scenes play out.

There are certainly better movies to watch though. La Terreur et la Vertu is one of them. It has been recommended to me by people on frevblr (@nesiacha I'm pretty sure?), and I'm definitely more than happy to pass the recommendation on!

There's also the Danton (1983) movie, but I'd personally recommend to go straight to the source and read Stanisława Przybyszewska's The Danton Case (and Thermidor, if you find yourself liking her style!). It feels different from the more contemporary plays, but I personally think it's great! It also covers the period of the Revolution I'm personally most invested in (1793 and especially pre-Thermidor 1794).

Oh, and if you're not put off by old movies, I have watched the 1927 Napoleon and thought it was really spectacular! It focuses mostly on Napoleon obviously, but you get to see the revolutionaries as well, in a way that is now rarely portrayed on the big screen.

PODCASTS

When it comes to podcasts, there's one called Revolutions which covers the French Revolution in great detail, but I haven't listened to all the episodes myself yet. It's not always perfectly accurate but I think you can see that a lot of work went into it.

I'd usually recommend BBC's In Our Time as a solid starting point for any topic you might be interested in. They bring on academics that specialise in that topic and often have great discussions. That said, if there's one thing I've learnt this year, it's that the French Revolution and the BBC don't really mix...

BOOKS

As for books, Twelve who ruled by R. R. Palmer is a classic! It helps to show how the evil all-powerful dictator Robespierre narrative is very much a myth.

I have also read Scurr's biography of Robespierre as well, but I feel like I'd risk being thrown to the Luxembourg if I recommend it to anyone. It's a fun read but Scurr's approach to historiography is often... let's say lax and a bit too creative a lot of the times. McPhee's Robespierre: A Revolutionary Life is meant to be much better, but I'm sadly yet to read it!

I also loved Marat's biography - Jean Paul Marat: Tribune of the French Revolution! I love a good biography and Marat is such an interesting and important figure for the revolution.

That said, if you are looking for books to read, @saintjustitude already put together a great list here!

Hope this helps, and welcome!✨

(if anyone feels like adding things to this feel free to reblog!)