#white rabbit dmc

[thequeen-crimson]

YOU

[hexitca]

Just watched the Netflix DMC trailer it looks cool but it seems like it's own thing?? Or inspo from DMC3 manga?? I'm not gonna judge too harsh on a teaser trailer it certainly looks good!

[midnightkolrath]

Here are things I've noticed in the DMC Netflix series trailer!

During the motorbike scene, he's fighting red and blue demons. 90% sure that's Agni and Rudra.

The man in the background looks like it may be Enzo, Dante's old business partner before Morrison.

Red/Blue eyes.....signs point to VERY likely this being Arkham. Probably mid transformation into Jester after sacrificing Lady's mother.

Echinda, the boss from DMC4??? Interesting choice

We knew he loses his shirt eventually, but here it is in more full animation

THE WHITE RABBIT FROM THE DMC3 MANGA, HUH? HMMMM....

[thesushisuke]

WAKE UP BABE DMC NETFLIX TRAILER JUST DROPPED!

Thoughts:

Dante looks perfect I think. My man. My guy. My perfect boy. I am in love with him all over again.

White Rabbit was a surprise! I am kind of expecting a fusion between the first novel and the DMC 3 Manga after that trailer.

JOHNNY AS DANTE is just funny. He is now two DMC protagonists. At some point he'll speak every character ever, just you wait. It will be a bit confunsing the first few episodes I think but I expect him to do a good job. And yeah as much as I like Ruebens voice as Dante I get it. Dante is so much younger in the anime - Reuben is now 20 years older than in DMC 3 - I don't think it would still fit. And then there is the... political (?) stuff with him? Yeah no. A recast is a good choice imo.

Please let me like this show please please please - If I turn out to dislike it, I will have so much ouchy in my kokoro...

[dalekofchaos]

Wonderland gang redone

So I was talking to my boyfriend and a friend about the wasted potential of the Wonderland themed characters in Batman, and the DMC anime came out and we saw the White Rabbit and see what a shame it is we got the shit the New 52 handed us. So I thought I'd go in a different au of how the Wonderland Gang could be redone.

The hierarchy of the Wonderland gang if I had my way would be

Alice This Alice would've been conditioned to becoming Alice by Mad Hatter and he turns Beth Kane into more of a monster, has an aesthetic matching Alice from American McGee's Alice. She is the final Alice Alice perfected in Mad Hatter's eyes.

Mad Hatter. Same trash he's always been, now he's got a family, definitely taking inspiration from the Arkhamverse)

Red Queen. So there is a Red Queen, but not specifically related to Mad Hatter or Wonderland related villains. I would characterize her similar to the Red Queen in fiction and be a very blood thirsty tyrant. Constantly warring with Alice for control over the Wonderland gang, but in the end always come together for the good of "Wonderland"

White Rabbit. The better White Rabbit in this au would be like the DMC one and AIW rolled into one. Talking in Carroll dialect, very time oriented and just a gentlmanly psychopath

Tweedle dee and Tweedle Dum...They're Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum lol

Cheshire Cat. He only appears when your mind is shattered or prolonged exposure by Jervis' mind control devices/tea and on the verge of complete insanity. If he helps you, you're capable of leaving Wonderland. If he leads you to your doomed, you can never leave Wonderland.

The Jabberwocky. I could foresee Jervis and co experimenting on some poor soul and forcefully creating the Jabberwocky. It would rival Bane and Croc in terms of strength.

[pychosiren]

seeing the white rabbit from the manga has given me some more hope as to the quality/care in the netflix show… the prequel manga isn’t quite surface level to me in terms of the non-game dmc stuff (but i’m also not sure how much the average dmc fan is interested in the novels/comics so)

i have not watched much of the castlevania show so i can’t say how much that show honors the original games. i’m excited regardless and i really hope we see more before april (vergil crumbs…… please……)

[dollivication]

woooo alice in wonderland mentioned !!! methinks nero would make a good white rabbit... also because "my dad will fucking execute me if I'm late" is funny to me. he tries to be helpful but hes too stressed about all this shit. no, it doesnt make sense to him either, but just follow his lead, okay? also bunny ears good lord thats like my one hybrid weakness.

mad hatter v is so good too. youre just trying to get home and this asshole will not stop giving cryptic hints in the form of poetry. don't drink the tea though there's def something in it -☢️

☢️NON I GOT SO HAPPY WHEN I SAW THIS EXPAND ON THE AU I TITTERED JOYFULLY!!! ALICE IN WONDERLAND I FUCK WITH IT SO HEAVILY IM TWEAKINGOUT

OHHHMHMYMYGOD YOURE SONRIGHT… it’s funy because the white rabbit is literally always getting dragged into shit bless his soul ;;he’s kind of the only sensical wan in this loony ass world… which perfectly suits newo!!! constantly stressing about shit, getting dragged into situations,, and just doing his best to be of use!!!

AND FHE BUNNY EARS + TAIL ARE DEFINITELY A BONUS!!! he’d probably be the typa Critter to tug on one of his ears if he’s crashing out LMFAO poor white rabbit nero…

MAD HATTER V!! IM SO HAPPY YEW SEE MY VISION.. & HEAVY ON THE CRYPTIC HINTS.. talm bout sum “to get home you must not look ahead or behind, but within….” like WHAT! DOES THAT EVEN MEAN !!🔥🔥🔥

DO NOT listen to his ass when he tells you to drink up.. put the tea DEOWWWN… or do drink it.. either way it probably won’t end well 4 yew !!

fighting the urge to not add alice in wonderland x dmc to bot wips i need to be Euthanized terribly sow..;; (◞‸◟)

[dzthenerd490]

File: Back to the Future

SCP#: AAX

Code Name: The DeLorean Time Machine

Object Class: Safe/Keter

Special Containment Procedures: Currently only one Instance of SCP-AAX in the possession of the Foundation as the rest still in the possession of Group of Interest: The Brown Family. SCP-AAX is contained at Site-AB within an 80x80 containment cell. The containment cell is equipped with standard Foundation equipment and robotics for vehicles, this equipment is used to regularly dismantle and assemble SCP-AAX to fully understand it's mechanisms.

Each person who enters the containment cell is required to wear standard Foundation radiation suits to prevent radiation poisoning from SCP-AAX-1. However, on the visor of the suit is imprinted a memetic that will erase the memories of everything that has been experienced after they stop viewing the memetic for 30 seconds. This will prevent Foundation staff, especially potential traitors, from utilizing or spreading information on how to create a separate instance of SCP-AAX.

Description: SCP-AAX is a DMC DeLorean vehicle that has been heavily modified to be able to time travel after reaching acceleration to 88 miles per hour. SCP-AAX has been given a secondary engine on the top of the car which can be fueled by waste materials of either organic or inorganic nature; thus, allowing SCP-AAX to never run out of fuel to drive. Furthermore SCP-AAX's wheels have been outfitted with [data expunged] allowing SCP-AAX to fly in the air without limitation. Despite all of this however, SCP-AAX is unable to time travel without its main fuel source of plutonium.

SCP-AAX uses plutonium to fuel its primary engine which is the soul component allowing it to time travel. This engine is known as the SCP-AAX-1, Code Name: Flex Capacitor, SCP-AAX-1 works by [data expunged]. What makes SCP-AAX-1 so dangerous is that it not only allows SCP-AAX to travel back or forwards in time but also go into different timelines in the multiverse as well. Furthermore, [data expunged].

SCP-AAX was discovered in 1990 when Dr. Alvik received a note on his desk, the note stated that there was a car waiting for him at [data expunged], [data expunged] coordinates. Along with the note were some keys of previously unknown model of car. Dr. Alvik requested to go to the coordinates with a personal guard, The O5 Council approved with assigning Mobile Task Force Lambda-5 "White Rabbits". The reasoning being that it was believed to be the ploy of a reality bender as there should have been no way anyone would be able to infiltrate Dr. Alvik's office without setting off the alarms either through anomalous or non-anomalous means.

Upon reaching the location which turned out to be a parking lot at [data expunged] shopping mall. There parked in the middle of the empty parking lot was SCP-AAX, MTF Lambda-15 units moved in and found nothing anomalous. After using the keys with the note, Dr. Alvik was not only able to unlock SCP-AAX but also found another note inside. See Addendum X-19 for details.

Because of the nature of SCP-AAX limited testing of its capabilities has been permitted. Instead by Order of the O5 Council, the only testing permitted is to understand the full mechanics of SCP-AAX to improve on it and one day create one more suitable for Foundation usage. Though of course what exactly it will be used for when such a day comes is still being debated between the O5 Council, Ethics Committee, and most Administrative Staff.

***

Addendum X-19

The following is what was written in the note that was within SCP-AAX for Dr. Alvik. By order of the O5 Council, some of the data has been expunged for various reason and thus only Dr. Alvik and the O5 Council know the full contents of the letter.

To Dr. Damion Alvik,

I hope this letter finds you well my friend, well technically not friend... yet. You don't know me, but I know you quite well, in fact I'm going to tell you that your theory about the multiverse, the origin point, and the limitations of reality, it's all real. And with this car you'll be able to see it for yourself, though of course not yet. I know that as you're reading this letter your superiors are giving the order to have it transported to one of your Foundation Sites. Yes, don't worry, I know about the Foundation, and I also know about how you will soon label this my old DeLorean time machine as SCP-AAX. It might seem like a waist now given what its capable of but trust me, you will have need for it and when the time is right, you'll know what to do.

This leads me to the most important part of the letter, since you don't know me, yet I'll get right to the point. I am not your enemy, nor will I ever be nor will any of my family members ever be. We are the Brown Family and it's a become a family tradition that we ensure that the balance of every timeline throughout the multiverse remains stable. You will see soon enough in fact about [data expunged] years we will join the United Organizations of the Multiverse, and so will your SCP Foundation. Though by then, it won't be called that anymore.

Anyways don't try to look for me, you won't find me, my friend. Just be patient and I will find you, like I said nor me nor any of my children, my grandchildren, nor my grandchildren's children will be a threat to you or Foundation. So long as time keeps flowing as it should, then everything will work out. Be safe and well my friend, and don't worry about your boy [data expunged], he might be a bit... much right now, but he’s going to become a fine man in the future and as for his young girl [data expunged], she's going to save the world many, many times. But of course, don't tell them I said any of this, especially about me calling [data expunged] by his first name, I know how he hates that.

- Sincerely,

Dr. Emmett Lathrop Brown, Proud Founder of the Brown Family

***

Despite extensive searching there is no one in the world that shares the same name as the one written in the note. Furthermore, there is no known organization called the United Organizations of the Multiverse, Group of Interest: Three Moon's Initiative, has confirmed this. None the less The O5 Council has ordered Mobile Task Force Phi-Eolh "Provident Trawlers" to investigate anyone who has even a slightly similar name and confirm whether or not they have anomalous properties or are related to anomalous items. This has obviously led to criticism towards the O5 Council, as it seems like a complete waste of time.

.

SCP: Horror Movie Files Hub

[somediyprojects]

White Rabbit stitched by dumpling_schumpling.

“First time using DMC Etoile thread on a White Rabbit candy phone case for the Lunar New Year - self drafted pattern.”

[brookstonalmanac]

Holidays 3.27

Holidays

Aglet Day

Amniotic Fluid Embolism Awareness Day

Armed Forces Day (Myanmar)

Barley Harvest Festival (Jehovah, Protector of the Barley)

Beer Writers Day

Celebrate Exchange Day

Commemoration of Sen no Rikyu (Omotesenke School of the Japanese Tea Ceremony; Japan)

Corkscrew Day

Day of the Union of Bessarabia with Romania (Romania)

Downtown Day

International Day of Multilingualism

Internal Troops and National Guard Servicemen's Day (Russia)

International Medical Science Liaison Day

Lazy Moocher's Day

Mariah Day

Muslim Women’s Day

National Acoustic Soul Day

National Blunt Day

National Camp at Home Day

National Detroit Day

National "Joe" Day

National Medical Science Liaison Day

National Scribble Day

National Terrier Day (UK)

Nowruz (New Year) [Day 7, Around Spring Equinox] (a.k.a. ... 

Navruz (Tajikistan)

Quirky Country Music Song Titles Day

Resistance (Myanmar)

Semana Santa (Nicaragua)

Sen no Rikyu (Way of Tea School commemoration; Japan)

Shoelace Patent Day

Skyscraper Day

Suve Ajale üleminek (Summer Time; Belgium, Estonia, Moldova, Netherlands)

Urinal Day

Viagra Day

World Theatre Day

Food & Drink Celebrations

International Cheese Day

International Whisk(e)y Day

National Cheese Day (France)

Spanish Paella Day

4th & Last Monday in March

Seward’s Day (Alaska) [Last Monday]

Independence Days

Federation of the Seven Towers (Declared, 2022) [unrecognized]

Goiania (Declared, 2013) [unrecognized]

Michrenia (Declared, 2013) [unrecognized]

Pugguinia (Declared, 2010) [unrecognized]

Feast Days

Aequinoctium Vernum, Day 1 (Pagan)

Alexander, a Pannonian soldier (Christian; Martyr)

Amador of Portugal (Christian; Saint)

Augusta of Treviso (Christian; Saint)

Charles Henry Brent (Episcopal Church (USA))

Christine (Muppetism)

Gelasius, Archbishop of Armagh (Christian; Saint)

Guan Shi Yin Pu Sa (Buddhism)

Herophilius (Positivist; Saint)

John & Patsy Ramsey Day (Church of the SubGenius; Saints)

John Damascene (Christian; Saint)

John of Egypt (Christian; Saint)

Liberalia (Ancient Rome; Festival of Vegetation God)

Paella Day (Pastafarian)

Philetus (Christian; Saint)

Romulus of Nîmes, a Benedictine abbot (Christian; Martyr)

Rupert of Salzburg (Christian; Saint)

Smell the Breezes Day (Sky Goddess Nut; Ancient Egypt)

Zanitas and Lazarus of Persia (Christian; Saint)

Lucky & Unlucky Days

Sensho (先勝 Japan) [Good luck in the morning, bad luck in the afternoon.]

Premieres

Annie Hall (Film; 1977)

April Showers (Film; 1948)

Consuming Passions (Film; 1992)

The Cutting Edge (Film; 1992)

Home (Animated Film; 2015)

International House (Film; 1933)

Monsters vs. Aliens (Animated Film; 2009)

Run-DMC, by Run-DMC (Album; 1984)

Run Silent, Run Deep (Film; 1958)

Singin’ in the Rain (Film; 1952)

Thief (Film; 1981)

Thunderball, by Ian Fleming (Novel; 1959) [James Bond #9]

Victorious (TV Series; 2010)

What We Do in the Shadows (Film; 2019)

White Men Can’t Jump (Film; 1992)

Today’s Name Days

Ernst, Frowin, Heimo (Austria)

Lada, Peregrin, Rupert (Croatia)

Dita (Czech Republic)

Kastor (Denmark)

Laide, Laidi, Leia, Leida, Leidi (Estonia)

Saul, Sauli (Finland)

Habib (France)

Augusta, Ernst, Heimo (Germany)

Filitas, Leeda, Lidia, Makedon, Matrona (Greece)

Hajnalka (Hungary)

Augusto, Oliviero, Romolo, Ruperto (Italy)

Audra, Gustavs, Gusts, Talrits (Latvia)

Aleksandras, Alkmenas, Lidija, Rūta (Lithuania)

Rudi, Rudolf (Norway)

Benedykt, Ernest, Ernestyn, Jan, Lidia, Rościmir, Rupert (Poland)

Matroana (Romania)

Alena (Slovakia)

Alejandro, Ruperto (Spain)

Ralf, Rudolf (Sweden)

Acher, Archibald, Archie, Montgomery, Monte, Monty (USA)

Today is Also…

Day of Year: Day 86 of 2023; 279 days remaining in the year

ISO: Day 1 of week 13 of 2023

Celtic Tree Calendar: Fearn (Alder) [Day 9 of 28]

Chinese: Second Month 2 (Gui-Mao), Day 6 (Jia-Shen)

Chinese Year of the: Rabbit 4721 (until February 10, 2024)

Hebrew: 5 Nisan 5783

Islamic: 5 Ramadan 1444

J Cal: 25 Ver; Foursday [25 of 30]

Julian: 14 March 2023

Moon: 37%: Waxing Crescent

Positivist: 2 Archimedes (4th Month) [Herophilius]

Runic Half Month: Ehwaz (Horse) [Day 2 of 15]

Season: Spring (Day 8 of 90)

Zodiac: Aries (Day 7 of 30)

[thequeen-crimson]

[brookston]

Holidays 3.27

Holidays

Aglet Day

Amniotic Fluid Embolism Awareness Day

Armed Forces Day (Myanmar)

Barley Harvest Festival (Jehovah, Protector of the Barley)

Beer Writers Day

Celebrate Exchange Day

Commemoration of Sen no Rikyu (Omotesenke School of the Japanese Tea Ceremony; Japan)

Corkscrew Day

Day of the Union of Bessarabia with Romania (Romania)

Downtown Day

International Day of Multilingualism

Internal Troops and National Guard Servicemen's Day (Russia)

International Medical Science Liaison Day

Lazy Moocher's Day

Mariah Day

Muslim Women’s Day

National Acoustic Soul Day

National Blunt Day

National Camp at Home Day

National Detroit Day

National "Joe" Day

National Medical Science Liaison Day

National Scribble Day

National Terrier Day (UK)

Nowruz (New Year) [Day 7, Around Spring Equinox] (a.k.a. ... 

Navruz (Tajikistan)

Quirky Country Music Song Titles Day

Resistance (Myanmar)

Semana Santa (Nicaragua)

Sen no Rikyu (Way of Tea School commemoration; Japan)

Shoelace Patent Day

Skyscraper Day

Suve Ajale üleminek (Summer Time; Belgium, Estonia, Moldova, Netherlands)

Urinal Day

Viagra Day

World Theatre Day

Food & Drink Celebrations

International Cheese Day

International Whisk(e)y Day

National Cheese Day (France)

Spanish Paella Day

4th & Last Monday in March

Seward’s Day (Alaska) [Last Monday]

Independence Days

Federation of the Seven Towers (Declared, 2022) [unrecognized]

Goiania (Declared, 2013) [unrecognized]

Michrenia (Declared, 2013) [unrecognized]

Pugguinia (Declared, 2010) [unrecognized]

Feast Days

Aequinoctium Vernum, Day 1 (Pagan)

Alexander, a Pannonian soldier (Christian; Martyr)

Amador of Portugal (Christian; Saint)

Augusta of Treviso (Christian; Saint)

Charles Henry Brent (Episcopal Church (USA))

Christine (Muppetism)

Gelasius, Archbishop of Armagh (Christian; Saint)

Guan Shi Yin Pu Sa (Buddhism)

Herophilius (Positivist; Saint)

John & Patsy Ramsey Day (Church of the SubGenius; Saints)

John Damascene (Christian; Saint)

John of Egypt (Christian; Saint)

Liberalia (Ancient Rome; Festival of Vegetation God)

Paella Day (Pastafarian)

Philetus (Christian; Saint)

Romulus of Nîmes, a Benedictine abbot (Christian; Martyr)

Rupert of Salzburg (Christian; Saint)

Smell the Breezes Day (Sky Goddess Nut; Ancient Egypt)

Zanitas and Lazarus of Persia (Christian; Saint)

Lucky & Unlucky Days

Sensho (先勝 Japan) [Good luck in the morning, bad luck in the afternoon.]

Premieres

Annie Hall (Film; 1977)

April Showers (Film; 1948)

Consuming Passions (Film; 1992)

The Cutting Edge (Film; 1992)

Home (Animated Film; 2015)

International House (Film; 1933)

Monsters vs. Aliens (Animated Film; 2009)

Run-DMC, by Run-DMC (Album; 1984)

Run Silent, Run Deep (Film; 1958)

Singin’ in the Rain (Film; 1952)

Thief (Film; 1981)

Thunderball, by Ian Fleming (Novel; 1959) [James Bond #9]

Victorious (TV Series; 2010)

What We Do in the Shadows (Film; 2019)

White Men Can’t Jump (Film; 1992)

Today’s Name Days

Ernst, Frowin, Heimo (Austria)

Lada, Peregrin, Rupert (Croatia)

Dita (Czech Republic)

Kastor (Denmark)

Laide, Laidi, Leia, Leida, Leidi (Estonia)

Saul, Sauli (Finland)

Habib (France)

Augusta, Ernst, Heimo (Germany)

Filitas, Leeda, Lidia, Makedon, Matrona (Greece)

Hajnalka (Hungary)

Augusto, Oliviero, Romolo, Ruperto (Italy)

Audra, Gustavs, Gusts, Talrits (Latvia)

Aleksandras, Alkmenas, Lidija, Rūta (Lithuania)

Rudi, Rudolf (Norway)

Benedykt, Ernest, Ernestyn, Jan, Lidia, Rościmir, Rupert (Poland)

Matroana (Romania)

Alena (Slovakia)

Alejandro, Ruperto (Spain)

Ralf, Rudolf (Sweden)

Acher, Archibald, Archie, Montgomery, Monte, Monty (USA)

Today is Also…

Day of Year: Day 86 of 2023; 279 days remaining in the year

ISO: Day 1 of week 13 of 2023

Celtic Tree Calendar: Fearn (Alder) [Day 9 of 28]

Chinese: Second Month 2 (Gui-Mao), Day 6 (Jia-Shen)

Chinese Year of the: Rabbit 4721 (until February 10, 2024)

Hebrew: 5 Nisan 5783

Islamic: 5 Ramadan 1444

J Cal: 25 Ver; Foursday [25 of 30]

Julian: 14 March 2023

Moon: 37%: Waxing Crescent

Positivist: 2 Archimedes (4th Month) [Herophilius]

Runic Half Month: Ehwaz (Horse) [Day 2 of 15]

Season: Spring (Day 8 of 90)

Zodiac: Aries (Day 7 of 30)

[flockoff]

Okay I have been home alone for the past couple days with a anxious cat and I need to talk about this thing because I accidentally fell down a rabbit hole, and I now have more questions than answers. So, read more if any of ya'll want to see that.

The Stormy JubJub Wig is part of a set. The Stormy JubJub Set.

Take all these items and slap them onto a Jubjub and the guy will look like this.

I am the JubJub thats Approaaaaching.

Beyond just the hair and the entire set being called Stormy, the choice to have the Stormy contacts be Silver (Pre DMCV, Dante, Vergil and Nero typically are portrayed with Silver eyes, they did turn a bit more bluish/greenish in DMCV, though Vergil's eyes have remained pretty silver-y all in all, which is probably due to-well everything that happened to Vergil but that is not important right now we are talking neopets).

And arguably-- though hard to see considering its being worn by an orb and the item's Icon is extremely small, what we see of the Stormy Dress has design elements similar to Vergil's Coat/Vest combo, specifically in terms of collar and the lapels (I don't know why its called the Stormy Dress, could be that its just referring to a dress as an outfit, could be that JubJubs being how they are shaped can't wear pants, I do not know). The shoe's aren't really anything special. The biggest thing of note is that they are a dark-blueish gray which is accentuated by the choice of outline color which is kind of similar to DMCV's Vergil boot cover color.

Shoutout to Discord for accidentally making these images HUGE. Genuinely helpful-Wait why does the coat have sleeves

All things considered, it feels like it could plausibly be a silly Vergil reference.

OH god but which one is the real Vergil????

Except I did one mistake and that was I looked up when the item set was released. It was released on JubJub Day, June 7th, 2018.

3 Days before the Devil May Cry 5 Announcement trailer is shown at E3. And this--this is where I'm having problems because now I am curious. Not curious in the "Oh my god Neopets had a inside man that knew about DMCV Vergil" way, because as great a story as that would be--I don't think so. But curious in the "Who was the person who worked on/designed that outfit. People knew that DMCV was in the works, did that person also know and just took one HELL of a shot with it? Did they choose a Jubjub because that was the one with a day right before E3? Did they choose a black coat/boots to reference the DmC Remake Vergil?" Or perhaps funniest of all--What if this set was not actually a reference to Vergil at all. What if this set is just one major coincidence.

And that is the thing that gets me. I can't tell. I went combing through the item descriptions to see if there was anything that said "THIS IS A DEVIL MAY CRY REFERENCE"

Wig Description- "A healthy mop of silver-white hair." Contact Lens Description- "White lenses perfect for accessorizing any ensemble." Dress Description- "Original black with a trailing cape always spells class." Shoe Description- "Sturdy footwear with the right mix of comfort and style." There isn't anything that is like... Screaming Devil May Cry or Vergil. Like--Sure, silver-white hair but-that's just a descriptor. Style??? I mean. Its clothes. But luckily Neopets archives the all of their old news-so maybe there is something on the day it was released?

MAYBE? They DID Choose a Blue JubJub for their example JubJub. And given Dante and Vergil referring to the Temen Ni Gru incident as a Party throughout Devil May Cry 3 that could-that could be something? But--its ultimately all circumstantial.

Like admittedly--I was not around the fan spaces around Devil May Cry 3 or 4 even. And though I know Devil May Cry 3 is the originator of the "A storm approaching" line, was that line notorious enough to name the whole JubJub outfit after it? Or if the JubJub outfit is a reference to a Remake Vergil--Was there a storm in the Remake??? I just-would love to be able to talk to the person who designed this outfit because--its fun, its funny and cute, and MAN they had good timing. So that's where I'm at.

Anyway, I need to see if there is a corresponding Dante outfit in Neopets. That is all.

Oh also if anyone has a answer about any of those questions please hit me up.

I AM THE STORM THAT IS APPROACHING

[ssson-of-sparda]

Strawberry Sundae

Summary: It's story time! Have you ever wondered why Dante affectionate strawberry sundaes so much? Well Patty has and luckily for her, he is about to tell her. It will just cost her a small favour. A man got to pay his debts remember.

Tags: ANGST (but with some very cute moments) / Dante’s childhood /  childhood trauma 

Author’s note: This is my take on Dante’s origins and also my first time writing for the Devil May Cry fandom. I hope I did it right and that you will love it. Set whenever you want but definitely after the DMC Anime. I made the reader female (in case I write a sequel. I have ideas for one, just tell me if you want one), but it can definitely be read as Gen!Reader if you make some small changes.

           To most people Patty Lowell looked so cute and angelic with her girly lacy dresses and her silk ribbons in her baby blond hair they’d think butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. But to Dante, she was the most annoying brat that ever walked this earth and, even though he would never admit it, also one of his dearest friends. And like all his friends, he owed her big.             “I’ll erase that from your tab.” She said as she swallowed a spoonful of vanilla ice cream.   “Oh c’mon! You keeping counts now?” Dante harrumphed and watched the kid wipe her mouth like a very distinguished lady. “You spend too much time with Lady.”   “Not too much. Just enough to know you owe me a trip to the beach, two dresses, a dozen ice cream cones and six strawberries sundaes” She counted on her fingers and Dante sighed as he slouched in the fake-leather seat of Freddy’s diner. “Well, you can’t have it all now, can you?”       “You’ve been saying this for months. And for months you’ve been eating hundreds of sundaes and bought none for me.” She grumbled, staring at him with a pout as he nonchalantly took the strawberry on top of his sundae to eat it, eyes closed to savour the sweetness of the fruit in his mouth. “What’s with your obsession with strawberry sundaes anyway?” She asked, genuinely curious. After all, even after spending so much time with Dante, watching him evolve in his natural habitat (meaning the Devil May Cry) and coming to the conclusion that Dante was a very unique species of man, one that whose diet was only based on pizzas and strawberry sundaes and that knew nothing of women, Patty still hadn’t figured why he was the way he was.   Dante opened an eye to see her impatiently waiting for an answer. “If I tell you, would you consider erasing … let’s say six sundaes of my tab?” He smirked, knowing Patty would not resist the curiosity to know more about him.             “That could be arranged. But your story better be good!”

STRAWBERRY SUNDAE

                 One more step and this would be the furthest Dante had ever been from his house. Of course, he had dared follow Vergil down to that weird old man’s house to secretly spy on his brother, wondering what was so interesting and fun in keeping a wrinkly company but he had never stepped a foot in the city. Never could. The only time he had tried and had somehow managed to go down the hill of his red home without tumbling down the steep rocky stairs and lay even just a toe on the urban pavement he was now standing on, his father and his sharp demonic earring had found him and brought him back home with a firm grip around the collar of his white shirt. Sparda had scolded him so much that day that even Vergil hadn’t dared smirking.       But here he was. Wet, trembling and cold, under a pouring rain, wondering where to go, what to do, both feet on the pavement, his tiny arms holding on tight to his father’s sword which was way bigger than he was. He had never been so terrified, so alert, his blue eyes widened and scanning all his surroundings in every direction possible like a poor defenceless animal fearing for its life, wondering if a deadly predator was secretly watching him crouched in the thickest shadow, the same kind of predator that took his mother and brother away from him.                 He wanted to call for help, ask someone, anyone for guidance but he didn’t know whom to trust or if he could trust anyone. All he knew was that he had to be strong, that he had to be a big boy, a man. That’s what his mother had told him before leaving, before … A tear streamed down his childish face. Not the first one tonight. He wiped it with his sooty knuckle but a new one appeared, bigger and more painful. It stung his eye and he cried harder. A devil should not cry but he was so tired. And he wanted his mama. And he wanted his big brother. But they were gone and behind him, his house up the hill was just a pile of smoking ash and burnt bricks.            

“Why are you crying?” Dante jumped and his small yet strong grip grabbed a hold of Rebellion’s hilt. It took his eyes a short second to fall upon the face of a little girl holding a green frog-shaped umbrella above both their heads. “Are you lost?”  She said as she tried to catch a glimpse of Dante’s face hidden behind layers of soot and wet hair. “Is it a real sword?”         “Don’t touch it!” Dante growled, pressing his father’s sword tighter against his chest, shielding it from the curious child as she tried to put her fingers on the legendary weapon. It had seen Vergil do that countless of times. And though it never worked with him, it formidably worked with the child in front of him. “It’s my dad’s.”         “Is your dad a knight?” She questioned with amazed (colour) eyes, imagining heroes in shining armours resembling the ones in the stories her mother would read her before bed. “My dad is the Legendary Dark Knight.” Dante spat, scowling behind his silver hair falling over his eyes, a pitiful and vain attempt at sending the little girl packing. After all, to her eyes, he didn’t look impressive at all, more like a wet small kitten that someone had abandoned in the street.     She shrugged “My dad doesn’t have a sword and he is not a legendary dark prince or whatever but he has a mighty spatula and his strawberry sundaes are the best in the whole kingdom!” She exclaimed with an over-the-top enthusiasm that made Dante’s weary frown even more pronounced. “That’s the name of my father’s diner.” She pointed at the pinkish red neon sign across the street. Kingdom’s diner. “You’re hungry?” Dante thought he wasn’t until he heard a rumbling in his tummy. Yes, maybe he was even though his heart was preoccupied by other things than hunger. “Come on. Follow me.”         He hesitated for a few seconds, watching the girl cross the crowded street in her way-too-large yellow oilskin - which was probably not hers now that he thought about it – and feeling the rain pouring on his shivering body again. “Well? What are you waiting for?”           With one last look at his destroyed home up on the hill, Dante finally took a step towards the girl waiting for him by the warm neon lights of the diner. And he took another step, and another, feeling a weird weight forming in his stomach. A mix of apprehension and hope. Apprehension of what’s waiting in this unknown land and hope that his father would suddenly appear and bring him back home. But once more, Sparda never showed up and the child was left alone.   Dante had never ventured that far away from home but he had no home anymore, right?

                 The diner was warm and cosy, with red plastic booth seats and speckled grey linoleum-covered tables that were incredibly clean and shiny. On the walls there were vintage-like pictures of old cars, old advertisements and old Hollywood stars who were almost all complete strangers to Dante apart from a glamorous blond woman with a weird mole and another one with a tiara and a cigarette holder. Pretty sure he had seen them both in some boring movies he had seen – or slept through - with his mother and Vergil. Mama. Vergil. He missed them already. Terribly.

A new tear fell along his cold cheek and Dante looked down, devastated that he would never see them again; guilty that he could not save them, angry that his father had not been there to protect them. And with his wet sorrow came scorching flashes and piercing screams. But soon they were covered by the sound of weird music sizzling in a machine that looked like from another time. “I always listen to music when I feel bad. I like music. Do you like music?” She was impossibly chatty but deep down Dante knew it was only to take his mind off whatever she thought he was thinking about. After all, he would use the same trick on his brother. “There are a hundred of songs in this jukebox.” So that was this hellish machine was. A jukebox. “Pick one. I’ll make some strawberry sundae” She smiled and disappeared behind the counter which was way too high for Dante to see what she was doing. “Oh but don’t play the music too loud. My parents are sleeping upstairs.”  

He didn’t know how it worked but he thought that pushing a button would do the trick. And so he did. And he almost fell on his butt when the jukebox started shaking and doing weird sizzling noises. Had he just broken it? “I… I” He mumbled pointing at the machine and the girl’s childish head popped up from behind the counter a bit like a funny rabbit leaves his hole. “Kick it!” She said and Dante looked at her, harrumphed and unsure he had heard right. His mother never allowed him to kick anything … especially not Vergil … and he kicked Vergil a lot … because he deserved it.                 “There!” The girl approached and gave the dying machine a small yet firm kick that made it come back to life. “It does that sometimes.”

“What’s with all the racket?” A loud voice growled and a man with tousled and sparse black hair appeared from upstairs. Only wearing an old navy blue robe over a white t-shirt and a pair of checked slippers, he looked asleep and yet angry. “Y/N what are you doing … up?” His somewhat aggressiveness turned into confusion when he saw Dante standing next to his beloved daughter.  He blinked a couple times and shook his head to make sure he was perfectly awake and not dreaming. What was this boy doing in his restaurant? All wet and covered in soot? “Who are you?” He managed to voice.       Dante opened his mouth though unsure what to answer. “He’s my friend.” The girl replied. “Your friend?” She nodded vigorously. “I was making him a strawberry sundae.”

If there was two things Mister Y/LN had a soft spot for, it was food – sugary and greasy food – and his precious daughter Y/N. She was his little princess, his only daughter, the apple of his eye (even when there was sleep crust in its corner like right now). He could not refuse her anything and could not stay mad at her for more than a couple of minutes to the great disappointment of his wife.  And even though he knew it was wrong, he couldn’t help it.           “Y/N” He sighed and went to kneel in front of his daughter. “You cannot invite a little boy that late at night. I’m sure his parents must be very worried.” He glanced at Dante who looked down his brown boots hiding his eyes yet again behind his silver hair. What curious hair. “But since he is here, let’s eat those strawberry sundaes.” The little girl grinned and ran back to finish her creamy dessert with an enthusiasm that made the man smile for a small second.

Even though Mister Y/LN was weak for his daughter he was still a man of reason. Something deep in his guts was telling him something was wrong with that kid and the last thing he wanted was trouble. Who was he? Where did he come from? What happened to him? Where were his parents? Was he some kind of street kid? A child of drug dealers from the rough areas of Red Grave? Should he call the police? Maybe so. Certainly so. They would certainly know what to do. It was their job after all. He was just a cook, a sleepy cook. What could he do, except offering that scrawny kid a strawberry sundae? “Why don’t you sit, boy?” He waved at the stool and Dante climbed on it without saying a word. “I’ll be right back.”

“So what’s your name?” The little girl said as she placed two coupe glasses filled with cream, ice cream and strawberries right before Dante’s eyes that immediately ogled at the dessert with greediness. So much sugar, so much cream, so many strawberries. He loved chocolate, but this, this looked like even better than chocolate and his stomach seemed to agree.       Excited to taste it, he went to grab the spoon that was placed by the couple but was immediately stopped. “Wait. I’m not done.” Y/N shouted and, with a frown and the tip of her pink tongue out, cautiously topped both sundaes with a cherry and two pink wafers. “There. Now you can eat it.” She barely had time to finish the sentence that Dante quickly stuffed a generous spoonful in his tiny mouth. OH GOD! If his mother saw him right now eating so much sugar in the middle of the night she would be furious. But this was the most delicious thing in the world. After pizza of course.       He ate another spoonful, and another, humming after each, as he was slowly reaching a comforting sugary paradise. “I’m guessing you like it.” The little girl giggled, laughing at his mouth as round as a balloon and the cream running from the corner of his lips. Dante froze at the laugh and stare at her with a blush creeping up his inflated cheeks until he swallowed with a big gulp. “Yeah.” He confessed and Y/N smiled at the small amount of joy she caught in his childish voice.   “You still haven’t told me your name. I’m Y/N by the way.” She reached out to shake his hand and Dante stared at it for a few seconds, remembering what his mother had told him as she hid him a wardrobe.

You must change your name. Forget your past and start a new life as someone else. But who could he be? And could he be someone else? After all, he had always been Dante, the restless daredevil son of Sparda and Eva and annoying little brother to Vergil who always picked a fight for fun and found ways to be involved in new kinds of mischiefs.               There was a silence, heavy and pregnant, as the boy tried to answer the questions in his confused little head and as the girl patiently waited for him to talk. And only the lively music from the jukebox could be heard in the room. And it sang to Dante ‘Hey there Anthony boy. Why are you in such a rush (go!). The girl, she wanna talk to you. Look at him, how he blush (go!)’ giving birth to his new identity. A new beginning.               “I’m Anthony.” He finally grabbed her hand and she shook it with a smile that he tried to mimic. An effort he thought he would have never done tonight but that he did for her. Calm down, Tony me boy. “Tony for short.”         “Well nice to meet you, Tony. I’m sure we’re going to be good friends.”

And with a new spoonful of strawberry sundae he said goodbye to Dante. Hey there, Anthony boy!

***

“That was a lovely story, Dante. Sad but lovely.” Patty finally declared after being incredibly silent during Dante’s childhood story. A first. “Glad you liked it.” Dante said with a small smile that was barely concealing the sadness that this memory had brought back. “So does that mean those six sundaes are off my tab?”               “I guess so.” She shrugged as she drank the ice cream in her coupe. “Great.” He winked and stood up, throwing a bill on the table before putting his long red coat on.  “So … you love strawberry sundaes because they were the first things that gave you comfort after you lost your mom?”           “No, I love strawberry sundaes because they remind me why humans are sometimes worth fighting for.”

But mostly, he liked them because they reminded him of someone who had helped him build a new life, someone who had given him kindness, generosity and love when he thought that all he could expect from life was sorrow and pain. They reminded him of you.     Yes, that’s why he loved strawberry sundaes.

[thatsmybreadandbutter]

Fuck Christmas

A non-traditional Christmas mix, by stephaniemaybe, published December 23rd, 2013.

Listen on 8tracks, Youtube playlist, or clickable tracklist below!

Warning: May contain explicit lyrics.

01. This Christmas Tree Isn't Brutal by Metalocalypse

02. Fuck Christmas by Eric Idle

03. Carol Of The Bells by August Burns Red

04. Christmas Vacation by Mavis Staples

05. Christmas Reindeer by The Knife

06. Seeing is Believing by Alan Silvestri

07. Christmas Song by Adam Sandler

08. Please Daddy (Don't Get Drunk This Christmas) by The Decemberists

09. Lumberjack Christmas/No One Can Save You From Christmases Past by Sufjan Stevens

10. Merry Something To You by Devo

11. Christmas at Hogwarts by John Williams

12. Got Something For You by Best Coast and Wavves

13. Peace On Earth/Little Drummer Boy by Bing Crosby & David Bowie

14. Merry Xmas, Baby (Please Don't Die) by Crocodiles & Dum Dum Girls

15. Santa Claus Is Comin' To Town by Bruce Springsteen

16. Ice Dance by Danny Elfman

17. It's Beginning To Look Like Christmas by Fruit Bats

18. Space Christmas by Shonen Knife

19. Mistress For Christmas by AC/DC

20. Baby Its Cold Outside by Zach Braff & Donald Faison

21. God Rest You Jerry Mentleman by Bad Religion

22. Christmas Card from a Hooker in Minneapolis by Tom Waits

23. You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch by Thurl Ravenscroft

24. Lonely Christmas Eve by Ben Folds Five

25. A Christmas Duel by The Hives & Cyndi Lauper

26. Christmas In Hollis by Run-DMC

27. Christmas Was Better In The 80s by The Futureheads

28. The House (Home Alone Theme) by John Williams

29. Don't Shoot Me Santa by The Killers

30. Christmas Time Will Soon Be Over by Jack White

31. Christmas In A Chinese Restaurant by John McCauley

32. Last Christmas by Wham!

33. Father Christmas by The Kinks

34. Christmas Wrapping by The Waitresses

35. 12 Days Of Christmas by Belle & Sebastian

36. Deck the Halls by Twisted Sister

37. Christmas at the Zoo by The Flaming Lips

38. Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy by Richard Bonynge

39. Run Rudolph Run by Motorhead

40. Fairytale of New York by The Pogues (Feat. Kirsty MacColl)

41. Silver and Gold by Burl Ives

42. Santa Looked a Lot Like Daddy by Reverend Horton Heat

43. Christmastime by Smashing Pumpkins

44. White Christmas by Guns N' Roses

45. Everything is One Big Christmas Tree by The Magnetic Fields

46. Holy, Holy, Holy by Sufjan Stevens

47. Christmas Time is Here by Vince Guaraldi Trio

48. Happy Holidays, You Bastard by Blink 182

49. Auld Lang Syne by Andrew Bird

50. Let It Snow, Let It Snow, Let It Snow by Michael Bublé

51. It's Christmas So We'll Stop by Frightened Rabbit

[vernonfielding]

Safe as (Haunted) Houses

So, @vic-kovac‘s Fall 2019 Fic Exchange prompts were so fantastic that I had to write two of them! I won’t reveal the prompt for this one until the end because of reasons (read: spoilers). Though vickovac will have figured it out already.

Thank you again to the most amazing beta around, my @fezzle! And so many thank yous to the organizers of @b99fandomevents!! These fic exchanges are a pain in the ass to pull off and you all do it so well. You provide a lovely fandom service and are much appreciated!

To the fic! (Or you can read it on AO3.)

Amy approached their perp with her hands held out at her sides, gun holstered, and said, “It’s okay, we can work this out,” instead of taking him down hard and sitting on him until Jake arrived.

He was just a teenager in a creepy bunny costume. She had him cornered in an empty warehouse. He was probably way more scared than dangerous, she figured.

And then the kid hopped straight through a second-floor window.

“We’ve got a rabbit,” she called into her radio as she raced toward the window to see where he’d gone.

“I’ve got eyes on him,” Jake responded. “Wow, you literally meant a rabbit.”

Amy spotted the kid drop off the fire escape ladder directly below and take off across the parking lot. Seconds later Jake was sprinting after him. Amy climbed through the broken window, glass crunching under her boots on the other side, and trotted down the stairs to join the chase.

The kid was fast and he clearly knew the neighborhood they were racing through, ducking down alleys and slipping between junked cars and over rotting wood fences like he’d been training for a quick escape. The bunny costume – a full-body getup that covered everything but his hands and feet and face – didn’t seem to be slowing him down at all.

Amy caught up to Jake easily enough and they ran side by side after that, one of them occasionally pulling off to try to cut off the kid at a shortcut. Jake tried calling after him to slow down and give the old people a fighting chance but the kid wasn’t even humoring them with a taunt or a middle finger. He just stayed steady and fast.

Amy was beginning to think they weren’t going to outrun him – she could hear Jake huffing just behind her right shoulder, and she had a horrible stitch in her side – when the kid swung into another parking lot, beneath a banner that read “Bedford Academy Spook Night,” and ran straight toward a noisy crowd of people and lights. They were going to lose him fast among all of those people, and Amy grunted and managed to speed up, just a little. She felt Jake do the same, feet slapping the ground a half-pace behind her.

As they got closer Amy saw that the crowd was mostly teenagers, a lot of them in costumes too, which made things worse. She kept her eyes on the bunny, glad for the raggedy ears sticking out on top as she dodged past zombies and ghosts and sexy pirates, and called out to Jake when the kid made a sharp right turn. She was actually picking him off, close enough that she could hear his rough panting, when he jerked suddenly to the left and pushed through a crowd of kids lined up in a row, and disappeared through a dark doorway. Amy sprinted after him, just at his heels, and ran straight into the darkness.

She jerked to a stop when she suddenly couldn’t see a thing. Jake slammed into her back, causing them both to stumble forward a few steps in the pitch black. Amy swore softly and threw up her hands to keep from stumbling into anything. She felt Jake grabbing at her shoulders to steady both of them.

“Sorry, sorry,” he muttered.

Amy bit her tongue to keep from snapping at him. She blinked in the darkness, which was starting to resolve itself into faint shadows. She could hear odd noises coming from all around, but mostly ahead – groans and moans, what sounded like chains rattling, and suddenly, a piercing shriek. She reached for her gun automatically and thought she heard Jake do the same.

“I think-” Jake said, but then someone was pushing past them, and a young voice said, “Hey, c’mon, you guys cut the line.”

A light came on and Amy shielded her eyes from the sudden brightness. Squinting ahead, she found herself staring into the white-painted face of a teenage girl, who held a flashlight under her chin, so its light made her skin look translucent in places. She had fake blood dripping out of her nose and eyes and ears and mouth, and she was dressed in a black dress that had been shredded in places. She shifted her flashlight toward Amy and Jake, who both groaned and looked away from it.

“You two have tickets?” she said.

“Tickets?” Amy repeated.

The girl held out a hand, palm up. “It’s five tickets. Or $10.”

Amy reached for the badge clipped to her belt and held that up. “How’s this?”

The girl narrowed her eyes and studied the badge. “Kind of a lame costume, honestly.”

“It’s not a costume,” Amy said through her teeth. “We’re cops. We followed someone in here and we need to find him. No one else can come in until we say it’s okay, got it?”

The girl rolled her eyes very dramatically. “Seriously? You know this is like the only thing that makes money at this dumb carnival. Don’t you even care about our charity?”

“What charity?” Amy said.

“I don’t know, it’s charity,” the girl said.

“Just keep it closed until I say so,” Amy said. She turned to Jake. “C’mon.”

“Uh-”

“What?” Amy said, impatient. By now, the kid could already be long gone but Amy wasn’t going to give up just yet. “Let’s go. We need to grab him before he finds a way out.”

“Can’t we just- let him go?” Jake said.

Amy stared at him for a long moment because that was too absurd for words. “He stole three cars, Jake.”

“Yeah, but what’s three cars? Maybe he took them for environmental reasons. He could be a climate change vigilante for all we know.”

“I don’t know what your deal is but please stop talking,” Amy said, and turned to go again.

But Jake said, “Maybe one of us should wait outside. You know, in case the kid finds another way out.”

Amy huffed in aggravation. This hesitation was so unlike Jake, who if anything should be elbowing her out of the way to run down the perp by now, all caution tossed aside. If she didn’t know him better – and after two years working with him, she knew him much better than she would have liked, frankly – she’d think he sounded uncertain, maybe even scared. But that was ridiculous. And anyway, Jake did have a point, they needed eyes on the outside to make sure the kid didn’t get away.

She turned to the mean girl watching the door. “Is there a security guard around?”

“Yeah, over there,” the girl said. She was inspecting her nails under the flashlight beam and did not give any hint to where “over there” was. Amy pursed her lips to keep from swearing and ducked back outside, where a very long line had formed and kids were peering around each other and muttering irritably. At the head of the line was a man with a patch on his jacket that read “security.”

“Hey, you,” Amy said. When the guard looked up, she said, “My partner and I are looking for a kid who just ran in here. He’s a white male, 16 years old, dressed in a dirty rabbit costume.”

“Donnie Darko bunny,” Jake said.

The guard nodded eagerly at that, so Amy assumed the reference meant something to him. “Where’s the exit to this thing?” she said.

“Next door up,” the guard said, pointing.

“Are there any other ways in or out of this room?” Amy said. The guard shook his head. “Okay, then we need you to guard the entrance and exit and make sure the bunny doesn’t get out ahead of us. And don’t let any other kids inside either. Got it?”

“Sure,” the guard said.

Amy was not even a little confident in this guard’s ability to stop their perp, but he was all they had, and it felt like they’d been figuring out logistics for an hour already. She needed this collar. She was going to get this collar.

She pushed Jake back toward the dark doorway.

“Amy,” Jake said in a whisper, as they paused just inside the door to let their eyes adjust.

“What.”

“I think this is a bad idea,” he said.

“Jake, I know he’s just a kid but stealing cars is big-time and I really don’t get your issue here. You happily arrested that 15-year-old two weeks ago for stealing some dumb shoes.”

“Those were Adidas Run DMC 25th Anniversary reissues,” Jake said, indignant. “But that’s not what I meant. Do you know what this place is?”

Amy frowned. She was blinking her eyes rapidly to try to see better. “Um, a classroom, I guess? Maybe a cafeteria?”

“It’s a haunted house,” Jake hissed.

“I know that,” Amy said testily as she inched forward, looking all around. She could hear more moaning up ahead. “What’s your point?”

When Jake didn’t answer right away, she took a quick look over her shoulder at him. It was hard to tell in the dark, but he looked pale, his eyes deep black shadows against his colorless cheeks and forehead.

“Jake?”

“Never mind,” he said, and ducked his head. “Let’s go.”

Amy frowned at him for a moment, then shrugged to herself and turned back around.

“Remember, we’ve got civilians in here. Keep your gun holstered,” she said to him in a whisper, and checked her own weapon to make sure it was secure.

“Only you would call high school kids ‘civilians,’ weirdo,” Jake muttered.

Amy ignored him and headed down the narrow hallway that led into the haunted house. She considered turning on her flashlight, but she didn’t want to give away their position, so she stumbled forward slowly.

She thought the place was probably one larger room subdivided by temporary walls painted black; Amy rapped her knuckles against the right side of the hall and found that it was actually made of canvas or some other fabric pulled taut. Black lights were strung overhead, illuminating streaks and splashes of something wet and glistening on the walls and floor, and fine tufts of cobwebs hung precariously from the ceiling, low enough that Amy found herself ducking more than once.

She expected spooky music or pre-recorded sound effects to make the mood, but even the moaning had stopped and now it was eerily silent. Their footsteps were muted on the floor, which must have been painted over too because it was so black she could barely make out the path ahead of them. The darkness all around was oppressively thick, like a physical presence.

Something small and hard-shelled knocked into her forehead and Amy startled badly and batted at it, before realizing it was a fake spider swinging from the end of a string. A moment later she felt something hit the top of her head and she swatted that away too, feeling a little frenzied when it got tangled in her hair. She finally pulled it loose and tossed it aside; it felt like a cockroach and she dearly hoped it was fake too.

She ran her hands through her hair, making sure nothing else was stuck, then glanced up when she thought she saw a flash of motion out of the corner of her eye, up ahead at the end of the hallway. She set her hand on the butt of her gun, and though she had no intention of pulling it out, the weight of it on her hip was reassuring. She crept along, conscious of Jake on her heels, and in the shadows at the end of the hall she could see the barest of movement, like a breeze ruffling through curtains. It could be a kid ready to jump out of the dark and scream boo, or it could be their rabbit. Amy grit her teeth and pressed on.

They were almost at the end of the hall, Jake so close she could feel the warmth of his body at her back, when she heard a rustle, a rush of air, and she was face to face with someone �� two people. In a breath she’d pulled her gun and was opening her mouth to call out.

Then she blinked and realized she was staring at herself.

Jake screamed.

“It’s fine! It’s a mirror!” Amy said to him, trying to keep her voice low. Her pulse was racing and she could feel the sting of adrenaline in her arms and legs. At least her fight-or-flight system was fully functional, she thought wryly.

She could hear Jake breathing hard and when she turned to him, he was bent over his knees and had a hand planted against his chest, like someone afraid they were having a heart attack. She was relieved to see he hadn’t pulled his weapon, at least. Amy quickly holstered her own.

“It was just us,” she said to Jake.

She wondered if she should rub his shoulder or something, but they didn’t really do the physical comfort thing, and if Jake was anything like pretty much every other guy she knew, he wouldn’t want her acknowledging that he was scared out of his mind. That said: He was obviously scared out of his mind. This was a side of him she’d never seen before, and abruptly Amy thought, Huh, Jake Peralta could still surprise her.

She hesitantly patted his upper arm in a way that she hoped could be read as either comfort or just trying to get his attention. Jake looked at her, and up close she could see that he had gone even paler, his lips gray and his cheeks and forehead a pasty white.

“You okay?” she said.

“Yeah.” He swallowed hard, and nodded. “Yes. Let’s go.”

Amy gave him a last long look, then nodded back and led the way. The right turn ended up being a U-turn, and ahead of the was another long, dark hallway. To their left Amy could hear moans and grunts again, coming from another part of the room, maybe a hall or two over. She heard a girl shriek, followed immediately by laughter. Amy hoped there weren’t many kids in the haunted house ahead of them, complicating their hunt for the bunny. She wondered if they should have turned on all the lights before going in, but it was too late for that now and she wasn’t going to distract herself with second guessing.

She moved them along this hallway faster than the first, partly because her eyes were adjusted to the dark, and partly because now that the first scare was behind them she was feeling a bit more confident. With seven brothers, Amy had been through more haunted houses than she could ever count, growing up, and she’d learned that one trick to mastering them was showing no fear. The actors went after the easy prey – the screamers, the criers, the people who groped and stuttered through, so obviously terrified they could be part of the illusion. And girls – girls were always targets, especially young girls with glasses and ponytails with brothers who liked to set them up. Amy could never give her brothers the satisfaction of refusing to go to a haunted house, so instead she’d just simply refused to be scared. Or at least to show it.

Now, she casually brushed aside more fake cobwebs and dangling spiders as they walked, keeping her eyes on the end of the hall and the next turn. Every now and then a breeze would brush past them, carrying on it a wave of cold and the faintly disturbing odor, like burned hair or something sweet-rotten. Every now and then she felt Jake’s hand brush against her back, like maybe he was still having trouble seeing in the dark. She was tempted to shake him off, to snap at him to give her some space, even slowing down to turn toward him-

A hand jerked out in front of her, right through the wall. Its fingers were swollen and rotting, flesh dangling in bloody strips from the knuckles, and the forearm was bloated and mottled in blue and purple. The hand rolled and its fingers blindly clawed and clutched at Amy.

Amy gasped and jumped back a half-step. Behind her Jake squeaked.

“What the fuck is that!” he called out, breathless.

The hand lurched for them and Jake grabbed Amy’s hand, yanking her back with him as he retreated.

“Jake! It’s just make-up. It’s fake.” Her own heart was throbbing and she willed herself to slow down, to breathe deep. When she turned to Jake his eyes were wide and black and she could make out the sweat on his brow. “Jake, c’mon. It’s a haunted house. It’s not real.”

Jake took a deep breath and shook his head, “I know, I know. Sorry.” He ran a hand through his hair and Amy noted that it was shaking. “Sorry, I just, I really, really hate these things.”

“No kidding,” Amy said, which earned her a small smirk from him, at least. “You ready?”

After another deep breath, he nodded. “Yeah.”

That was when they both noticed he was still holding her hand. They looked down together at their clasped hands – his right, her left – and Amy felt Jake jerk his away. And she wasn’t sure why, but she held on tight. Then, after another moment, she dropped his hand and said, “Hold on,” and moved to his other side and took his left hand in her right.

“I’m left-handed,” she said to him, as though this was a totally normal thing.

“Amy-”

“C’mon,” she said. “Let’s get our rabbit.”

She tugged on his hand, and he stuttered a step or two and then followed along. Amy brushed past the mangled arm just as it was withdrawn back into the wall, and when she reached the end of the hall she ducked carefully around the corner, looking for their rabbit and for any other haunted house surprises. But she saw only the same empty darkness. After a quick check over her shoulder at Jake, who gave her a tight, close-lipped smile and a nod, she turned the corner.

Amy inched ahead, now conscious of Jake’s hand in hers. His palm was cool and a little clammy, but not unpleasantly so. She couldn’t help noticing that they had matching calluses – on the base of the thumb, the pads of the index and middle fingers. His hand was large, his fingers wrapped almost entirely around her palm in a way that was strangely comforting, though Amy was aware she was the one providing the comfort. She squeezed his hand without thinking about it, and when he squeezed back after a moment she felt a rush of something like relief.

This corridor was somewhat narrower than the others, and darker. The walls weren’t splattered with glowing blood or other strange marks, but there were framed portraits at irregular intervals, the faces pale and grim, and painted as though by someone who didn’t quite know what faces looked like, who didn’t understand them. There was something off about all of them, the noses misplaced, the eyes somewhat too far apart, the proportions all wrong. Amy felt like the eyes were following them, but of course they would have been painted to make it seem that way.

They were halfway down the hall when one of the faces screamed.

“Get out, cop! Get out of my house!”

Amy jerked away from the portrait, only for another voice to cry out behind her. “Kill her! Kill him! Stab them in the eyes!”

“What the-” Jake said, voice catching and breaking. Amy gripped his hand and wrenched him forward, and they picked up speed and dashed to the end of the hall and rounded the next corner, Amy barely sparing a moment to pause and scan ahead. The portraits kept yelling at them, and more joined in until it was a chorus of insults and promised torture.

“Want to pull all the teeth out of that cop’s big mouth!”

“Gonna break all the bones in the lady cop’s hands!”

They ran past a door against which something appeared to be pounding relentlessly, the frame bending and creaking, and past a curtain from which a bony hand curled around, ready to pull the fabric aside. Amy didn’t pause to see what would be revealed. At the end of the corridor finally the portraits stopped screaming and the house went dead silent, even the rattling of the door gone quiet. Amy paused to catch her breath and maybe give Jake a pep talk (maybe give them both a pep talk, honestly). Then a white-faced clown popped seemingly right out of the wall beside them and screamed “boo!” in their faces.

Jake shrieked and Amy yelled, “NYPD!”

The clown grinned maniacally at them, its pointy teeth dripping with fake blood, and Amy shoved her badge in its face and said, “Seriously, get lost.” The clown frowned at them and flipped them off, but disappeared back behind a dark curtain Amy hadn’t noticed before.

“Mother fu-”

“He’s gone,” Amy said, cutting him off.

“That was a clown, Amy. A clown with sharp teeth and red eyes.”

“I know, I saw him.”

“Clown!”

He was trembling all over, and holding her hand so tightly her fingers were aching. She realized they needed to get out before he had some sort of breakdown, or accidentally shot one of the kids. She was getting pretty fed up with this place herself.

“We’ve got to be close to the end,” Amy said. “Let’s just keep going.”

“A clown,” Jake said, quiet like he was talking to himself, and he let her lead him on.

They turned right and faced another dark hallway. But at the end of this tunnel was a rectangle of light.

“Jake,” she said, squeezing his hand. “That’s the exit.”

“Thank god.” He released the words on a sigh.

Amy felt a flash of disappointment that they hadn’t caught their rabbit. She realized she’d been so focused on the haunted house, and on getting Jake through it, that she hadn’t been as thorough, as careful as she should have been – checking behind all those dark curtains, behind the portraits and the battered doors, the myriad places their kid could have hidden if he knew his way around the haunted house. But he was just a kid, after all, and he’d only stolen a few cars. McGinley certainly wouldn’t care that they’d lost him.

She moved forward, and Jake’s grip on her hand loosened a bit, but she didn’t let go. Instead, she twined their fingers, locking them together. She felt Jake’s gaze on the side of her face but she didn’t look back at him. She was going to see him through the end of this dumb haunted house, and she wasn’t going to make him feel bad about it.

They moved quickly – past another door that rattled and a blood-red curtain behind which something moaned as if in terrible pain. They stepped over a wet puddle that gleamed a sickly green. A skeleton dropped down in front of them, and they were staring into the fierce, grinning muzzle of a dead dog. She assumed it was a fake, but the brittle bones, stained brown and black, looked real in the dim lighting. She pushed it aside with an elbow.

They were halfway down the hall, close enough to the light that she could make out people milling around outside and hear faint rings of laughter and happy chatter, when Jake stopped so suddenly that Amy’s arm jerked back, wrenching her shoulder. She swore under her breath and turned to glare at him.

“Jake-”

But he raised a finger to his lips, and nodded his head to his right. Amy frowned and looked to her left, and at first she saw nothing, but then a flutter of movement caught her eye and she realized she was looking at another curtain, this one so black that it blended almost seamlessly with the black walls of the hallway. She still didn’t understand what had drawn Jake’s attention, though, until she glanced back at him and he pointed up. And there, poking between the edge of the curtain and the wall, was the tip of a dirty white bunny ear.

Amy looked back at Jake and raised her eyebrows, and he made a few complicated hand gestures, and Amy rolled her eyes but she understood – he wanted her to block the exit, and he would approach the curtain. Amy shook her head and gestured back at him that he should take the exit, and he scowled at her and repeated his hand motions, and she gave him her most menacing frown and planted a hand on her hip, and they glared at each other until he gave up and moved toward the door.

He let go of her hand, and Amy felt something clench in her chest. It was weird. She shook it off.

Amy laid a hand on the butt of her gun but left it in the holster. She glanced once at Jake to make sure he was ready, and he gave her a short nod. She took a step toward the curtain, and reached toward the edge of it with one hand. She jerked back the curtain, and there stood their rabbit.

“NYPD!” Amy yelled.

“Don’t move!” Jake said, suddenly at her side.

The rabbit was standing in a shallow dark alcove, his back to the wall, and he raised his hands. He looked so young when he lifted his face to them. Amy felt a pang of sympathy.

And then he started laughing and he pointed at Jake and said, “You scream like a girl, man.”

Amy grabbed the kid by an ear and hoisted him out of the alcove and said, “You’re a 16-year-old boy in a bunny costume, shut up,” and she let Jake do the handcuffing while she read him his rights.

+++

The cheers and boos were pretty evenly distributed when they walked out of the haunted house with the handcuffed rabbit in front of them. Amy figured the applause mostly came from people who were glad the haunted house was back in business now that the cops were done.

The security guard turned out to be a decent guy, and he’d called backup while they were inside. So Amy happily passed the kid off to the patrol officers. But it was only one squad car, and when the officers offered to give them a ride back to their own car in the backseat, Amy passed without checking with Jake.

She sort of regretted that though as they began the walk back, the silence between them heavy and stilted. She had questions, of course, and he clearly was feeling bad, even ashamed.

Though they partnered often enough these days, theirs wasn’t what Amy would call a friendly relationship. They tolerated each other. Usually. Which was still a vast improvement over the mutual dislike-borderline-hate that had characterized their earliest interactions. Jake was still immature and unprofessional and a self-described lone wolf who had a hard time trusting, or letting himself be trusted. And Amy knew she was still stubborn and high strung and even, occasionally, overbearing. But they’d found ways to slot together anyway, and when they weren’t driving each other crazy they were a good team.

But this was new territory, and Amy wasn’t sure if she was supposed to ask what had happened in the haunted house or ignore it or tease him or something else entirely. She’d never seen Jake that scared before. Not when they’d chased a serial strangler through a warehouse filled entirely with vacant-eyed doll heads, not when he’d somehow gotten his hand stuck in the locker they all referred to as the cockroach nest, not even when a perp had surprised him and slammed him face-first into a wall and shoved a gun into the base of his skull – Jake, blood gushing from his nose over his mouth and chin, had just yelled at Rosa to shoot the guy in the penis.

Jake was an eyes-closed, head-first into danger kind of cop, and he almost always cast Amy in the role of safety monitor, which she hated because she wasn’t exactly cautious herself when it came to fieldwork. Careful, thoughtful and practical, yes. But never overly so. Around Jake, though, she was the sane one, the one calling for backup or making sure all of the closets and bathrooms were clear before holstering her weapon.

He’d been terrified in the haunted house, though. The kind of white-knuckled fear that had some cops requesting desk assignments – the kind of fear that might make a partner wonder whether he was going to have her back. Amy realized she couldn’t just let this go.

“What happened back there?”

They were taking the less direct route back to their car, now that they weren’t chasing a kid through alleys and backyards. Amy thought it was about a ten-block walk. She heard Jake sigh beside her and from the corner of her eye saw him stuff his hands in his jacket pockets.

Finally he shrugged. “Haunted houses are scary. I was scared.”

“A lot of things are scary,” Amy said. “Like serial killers with guns and meth-heads with very big knives and doll-head warehouses. I’ve never seen you scared around any of those before.”

He kicked at an empty soda can and the clang of it bouncing off the curb and into the street was loud in the empty night. It was cold out, and Amy shivered and buried her hands in her coat pockets too. She wondered if Jake wasn’t going to reply. She hadn’t actually asked him a question.

“I’ve been scared those times too,” he said after a few minutes. “But there’s no time to really be scared.”

“Jake, that makes no sense,” Amy said, trying to keep the exasperation out of her voice.

She watched his brow furrow, saw the pinch of his lips as he thought about what to say next.

“Haunted houses, their whole purpose is to scare you. As soon as I walked through that door tonight, I knew horrible things were going to jump out and scream in my face and try to freak me out. It’s just a given, you know? But real-life situations, you don’t know. And that not knowing, it freaks some people out, but for me it’s just – you prepare for the worst to happen and you do your best, and my best is pretty awesome.”

He shrugged and added, “A creepy warehouse with doll heads might just be a creepy warehouse with doll heads by the time we’re done, or we might get to arrest someone. A haunted house, the deck is stacked – you’re going to lose the second you step foot inside.”

Amy nodded to herself as he spoke, because it made an absurd kind of sense. Jake didn’t like feeling scared, or vulnerable, and a haunted house was basically guaranteed to make him feel that way. She supposed that she could wrap her head around that. They walked in silence for another block, both huddled against the brisk fall wind that was picking up, scattering dry leaves at their feet and making skeleton-limbed trees bend and sway. It was a moonless night, and in this neighborhood, there weren’t many streetlamps or warm window glows to light their way.

“Okay, but seriously,” she said, as they rounded the last corner to their car. “What’s the real reason you don’t like haunted houses?”

Jake groaned and ran a hand through his hair, and he said, “Fine, I went to a haunted house once with a group of friends and I got super scared and they all made fun of me.”

“And?”

He sighed. “And I wet my pants.”

“And?”

“And I was 28.”

“There it is,” Amy said.

Jake cringed and he sighed in a very put-upon way, and when she glanced at him she read all over his face that he was prepared to never live this down with her, or the rest of the squad once she told them. Amy had no intention of holding this over his head, though, or of telling anyone else. If she was learning one thing from Jake, it was that partners looked out for each other in all kinds of unexpected ways.

But he didn’t need to know that. Not right away.

THE END

The prompt: Jake and Amy have to go into a haunted house for a case (chasing a perp or something) and it's actually pretty scary so they end up holding hands (pre-relationship).