#scrap bin

[of-pale]

Here’s a leftover from a DMC Christmas themed fanfic I’ve been working on, since not all of my ideas had a place inside that monstrosity. I’ll post the fic itself soon-ish, after ironing out some details (shhh it's called being fashionably late). And maybe the scrap bin here will see a few more leftovers in the future:

It was absurd enough that Dante had managed to sneak Vergil's violin into the family celebration unnoticed, but even more absurd was how he’d goaded Vergil into playing by framing it as a challenge. If there was one thing Vergil never did, it was back down from a challenge. And so, perform for an audience he did.

He chose a piece he’d practiced countless times, one he could perform flawlessly, even with his eyes closed. It was a calculated choice: impressive and reliable, ensuring his nerves wouldn’t interfere with the performance. And, as expected, it went off without a hitch.

The final note lingered in the air, a hauntingly beautiful echo that seemed to hold the room spellbound. Kyrie’s eyes shone with admiration, Nero’s brows lifted in quiet surprise, and the children, initially captivated, now began to fidget. Dante broke the spell with an exaggerated, slow clap.

“You know,” Dante drawled, reclining lazily in his chair, “you're not forced to play dusty old songs. Why not try something written this century?”

Vergil arched a brow, the faintest flicker of annoyance crossing his features.

“Oh! Oh! I know,” Dante continued, his grin widening. “Play the song from that one kids' movie with the ice queen! The kiddos will love it!” He gestured grandly toward the three children sitting on the floor, who perked up with renewed interest.

“The what?” Vergil asked, his tone sharp with suspicion.

“You know, the one that spread like a plague. I swear, Patty wouldn’t shut up about it for months.”

Vergil’s eyes narrowed. “It’s… a plague?”

“Might as well be,” Nero muttered from his spot near the fireplace, exchanging a knowing look with Kyrie, who stifled a laugh behind her hand.

Before Vergil could demand clarification, Dante drew a dramatic breath and began belting out, “Let it go, le—”

Nero moved faster than anyone thought possible, clamping a hand over Dante's mouth. “Don’t,” he hissed, glaring daggers at his uncle. But the damage was done. The kids’ faces lit up with recognition, and they burst into excited giggles, eagerly picking up the tune where Dante had left off.

Vergil pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a long, suffering sigh. “Ah. That one.”

“So you have heard it?” Dante asked, peeling Nero’s hand off his mouth.

“I have had the misfortune of hearing you attempt to sing it in the shower,” Vergil replied dryly.

Dante had an irritating habit of turning the office bathroom into his personal concert hall, belting out whatever songs suited his fickle moods with no concern for the ears of others. Certainly loud enough to be heard all over the building. Much to Vergil’s dismay, there was no escaping it.

“Guess that means I should’ve charged you for concert tickets,” Dante quipped, puffing out his chest as though he were the star of a sold-out show.

“Can I pay you for silence instead?” Vergil countered without missing a beat.

Dante feigned an affronted gasp, clutching his chest dramatically. “Hey! I’m a wonderful singer.”

“Yeah, no,” Nero snorted. “That’s just assault on everyone’s ears.”

Vergil glanced down at his violin. His fingers brushed the strings thoughtfully, debating whether to subject the instrument to the indignity of mimicking Dante’s auditory assaults. With a faint sigh of resignation, he lifted the bow. A few tortured bars should suffice.

What followed was an uncanny parody of Dante’s so-called ‘performances’, the screeching notes more akin to the wails of a wounded animal than music.

The children collapsed in laughter, clutching their sides as they rolled on the floor. Even Nero cracked a grin, shaking his head at Vergil’s rare display of humor. Dante winced, covering his ears. “Alright, alright, I get it! It’s not my best song, I admit.”

Vergil lowered the violin, his lips twitching into the faintest smirk. “Swear an oath to never sing it again, and I’ll consider playing it properly.”

“Deal!” Dante declared, raising his hand as if making a solemn vow.

Satisfied, Vergil lifted the bow again. This time, the violin sang with grace and precision. The melody, though largely improvised, flowed effortlessly under his skilled fingers. While he hadn’t heard much of the original song, the composition he crafted carried its emotional weight, weaving something delicate and enchanting.

The children swayed to the tune, their earlier restlessness replaced by rapt attention. Kyrie’s smile softened, Nero leaned back with a contented sigh, and even Dante looked quietly impressed.

[scratchtovoid]

When inspiration just hits you in the face in the form of a time travel daemyra fic 👀

[dragon-subway]

uhh yea I’m. Im not gonna finish this so have the thumbnail

[snarkspawn]

I see you

[copia]

"So the people know you've given them everything—and you have nothing left to give."

PAPA EMERITUS IV performs Square Hammer in RITE HERE RITE NOW

[inkz123]

Doodles u say? And you can NEVER have too much error

Giv em raccoon ears

Hes a tiny criminal

Gave him tail and coon grippies ehehe >:3

[jitterbugbear]

My bestie's wizard swag is going to skyrocket with this one teehee

[mortemcatabasis]

Flora Boar girl adopt 🐗🍀 [OPEN]

30$ USD via paypal invoice DM to claim [TH Page]

[strangegutz]

kind of a dumb question but are the scrap spirits made from actual scraps of fabric you had laying around from previous dolls?

Yeah! I raided my scrap bins, ribbons and trims, bead stashes, etc. I still had to cut from bigger pieces of fabric I had on hand, but I didn't and will not buy anything new for the scrap spirits, aside from resin to cast the hands and boots :)

[dewgongs]

icannot remember for the life of me if ive posted thsi i probabl y have but here whatever have high nepeta

[of-pale]

Another DMC Christmas fic leftover I gave a little polish to toss in the scrap bin:

Decorating the Christmas tree was, unsurprisingly, a chaotic affair. Nero was doing his best to wrangle the three adopted kids, each of whom seemed determined to hurl anything shiny and sparkly directly at the tree. Or at him, it hardly mattered to them.

Dante and Vergil had taken up supervisory roles—or at least, that’s what Dante liked to call it. He was sprawled across the sofa, looking disproportionately pleased with himself after what he considered an unprecedented amount of effort in setting up the tree in its stand. Meanwhile, Vergil sat rigidly at the opposite end, his expression that of a bored king surveying the trivial on-goings of the court.

Eventually, the tree’s lower layers became a tangled masterpiece of color, glitter, and crooked ornaments. The top half, however, remained bare, frustratingly out of reach for the kids. This just wouldn’t do.

Calling upon his spectral arms, Nero hoisted the children one by one, guiding them as they gleefully reached to place ornaments higher up. It worked, mostly. With three kids and only two sets of arms, one child was always left out of the fun, which inevitably led to pouting and complaining.

“Fine,” Nero grumbled, realising this was getting out of hand even for him. “Dante, get off your lazy bum and help.”

Dante stretched theatrically, leaning further into the couch cushions. “Naaah, I’m wiped. Setting up that tree was no joke, y’know?”

“Bullsh—oes,” Nero muttered through gritted teeth.

Dante ignored him entirely, instead turning to Vergil. “Hey, Verge, you’re up.”

Vergil froze, caught off guard as one child’s wide, expectant eyes locked onto him, arms outstretched and ready to be picked up. Meanwhile, Nero’s sharp glare drilled into him, a silent warning laced with skepticism. It was no secret that Nero didn’t entirely trust Vergil—especially when it came to the kids. Predictably, Dante seized the opportunity for mischief, giving his twin a none-too-gentle shove off the sofa.

Vergil hesitated, but the unspoken challenge in Dante’s smirk left no room for refusal. Surely, this was a simple task, he reasoned.

As he approached, Kyle began bouncing on his heels, arms outstretched in eager anticipation. Vergil leaned down, scooped him up… and, with all the grace of a man handling an unfamiliar object, held him by the leg, dangling him upside down like a grocery bag.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Nero hissed, his spectral arms twitching in disbelief.

“Assisting,” Vergil replied evenly.

“You’ll drop him—”

But Kyle’s delighted giggles drowned Nero out. “This is so fun!” he squealed, swaying his arms wildly to hang an ornament on a high branch.

The other two kids immediately began clamoring to be held the same way.

“Yeah, it’s fiiine,” Dante drawled, strolling up to join Vergil. Without hesitation, he plucked one of the kids from Nero’s arms and flipped them upside down with an exaggerated flair. “Our dad used to hold us like this whenever we decorated the tree.”

Vergil turned his head sharply, narrowing his eyes at Dante. “He absolutely—”

“Sure did!” Dante interrupted with a broad grin, waving off any protest.

Even as a man with fragmented memories, Vergil knew nonsense when he heard it. Sparda had never held them upside down during tree-decorating—or any activity, for that matter. Clearly, Dante was trying to smooth over any tension between him and Nero.

The children’s delighted giggles were infectious, and Nero finally relaxed. Resigned to the absurdity, he flipped the kid he was holding upside down, mimicking the twins’ ‘method’. “Only you two could come up with this,” he muttered.

And so, the three Spardas stood around the Christmas tree, each holding a child upside down as they decorated the Christmas tree. It was chaotic, unconventional and downright ridiculous. But such was the Sparda way.

[makereadgrow]

I've gone into a hyperfixation rabbit hole and been making and thinking about paper pieced blocks non stop for a week. I'm riffing on traditional blocks and geometric shapes (because that's what I like) and using scraps, bits from mystery bags and bundles, and the leftovers from a variety of charm packs I've part used.

My blocks are a mix of ones I downloaded and ones I drafted myself on paper with a ruler and pencil.

I don't really have a plan for what they will be, initially I was thinking table topper, now I'm thinking maybe placemats? Maybe I'll go as far as quilt? Dunno. We'll see how many I make before I get tired of doing it.

[scratchtovoid]

What about a Grand Prix fic where Rhaenyra is trying to make it in a league dominated by men?

And Daemon is a rival driver who sees her promise and starts supporting her but it turns into ~more~

Has someone written that?

[dragon-subway]

[aboxmsn]

spare change spare change

[amu-brain-dump]

Been trying to find a craft store with craft store vibe for a while. Cause Hobbycraft is good but doesn't have craft store vibe. Well, I was on the bus a couple of months ago and spotted a craft store with potential and today I finally visited. And I have found the perfect craft store 😌 the vibe was so crafty it was unreal. I spotted a cutie shopping for fabric, an oldie shopping for glitter and cutting materials and a student seemingly looking around like me. I love that place now and it's gonna become my "local craft store" despite taking me 45 min to get there