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still here, but i'm hitting a block rn for sid... i think im going to change his design to, so ill be updating the carrd in a bit.

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In the future, what if he just had his devil fissures around his arms permanently, or at least 90% of the time. Maybe whenever he fights, he resolves to using that instead of actually calling on Ficedula. Since the sword itself is his lifeline, I could see him being more hesitant to draw it out just in case it gets shattered or stolen from him. Not to mention, he isn’t too good with a sword. Rather than wielding it traditionally I could see him holding it in a backwards grip.

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"Nope", he replied firmly, watching as she tucked her wings closer to herself. The smell of her blood was driving him crazy, the athame was practically gnashing its teeth in anticipation of a bite-- or anything, anything at all. The threat keeps it in check though, it wouldn't have the power to restore that grave of an injury even if it wanted to with Sid's lack of indulging on mortal blood.

"... that's fine by me", he chuckled dryly, reaching to tug the front of his hoodie over his nose before he offered his arm to slot under hers for support. "There's one down two blocks from here", he hummed, sniffing his own musk to block out the stench of decadent godling blood. He knew it was the blood, but why was hers especially... pungant, he decided to frame it.

"You're not gonna leave me alone if I don't, aren't you?" River looked back at him. Folding her wings behind her back. She squinted her eyes. "But try anything and I'll gut you from one opening to another." She warned.

The half-blood limped over to him, her wings still folded tightly to her. "Know any clincs nearby?" She asked. She'd be fine with some doctor just patching her up, as long as it wasn't a full body examination.

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So... so she wasn't going to kill him? The cold flash against his clammy skin is a balm to his fried nerves, finally able to ease up from the tensed position he had them in. Any longer and he'd probably suffer a cramp. Sid's eyes remained on her as she adjusted something on her head, watching the back of it as she began to seemingly glide across the ground. It was eerie how quiet her steps were, not even a hint of crunch from the leaves below. He swallows, before nodding, following after her despite his own instincts. The survivor rubs his arms as he fixes his hands to hold them as he goes across the path.

"Thank you...", he manages, treading carefully as he finally took a gander at the other things in his surroundings. He recalled the description of the herbs Claudette sent him out to forage for, something with little yellow flowers.

The handmaiden hums, cocking her head as she stares him down. The silence laid thick until her voice finally offered an answer, "Well you're never going to find things like that around here dearie." Seemingly satisfied with that answer she straightened again fixing her wimple that seemed far more like two large ears under the cloth than fancy braids, "And there's much worse things than me stalking about, I've heard even the birds love to lead stragglers astray. Little wisps I swear. One minute they're here and the next they're gone. Strange isn't it?"

Thistle's tone immediately changed back to something chipper if a bit odd given the situation. Her footfalls made no noise against the leaves as she turned to leave looking back at him, "Come on then, can't find anything by standing around like that."

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@dreamsofandroidsndrones is curious: 💤

💤-- How does he sleep? Curled up? Sprawled? Holding onto something?

Like a baby. Kidding.

He doesn't get much sleep these days, haunted by recent events, the changes underwent, or kept awake by the stress of it all. He used to sleep on his back or side, but ever since the 'incident' he can't bring himself to. It reminds him too much of what it was like, falling in and out of consciousness up until he died. Even though sleep is supposed to be refreshing, he's only been restless... but holding onto something does help and he's began to sleep on his stomach now. On the rare nights that he manages to get sleep, he has a pillow in a chokehold, as if something or someone would dare to take it away.

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@shallliveoninsong is curious: 🧨& 🌪️

🧨-- What is the quickest way to set him off, even if he hides it well?

Talking bad about Selene. She saved his life, even if she was only grooming him to be a sacrifice in her hopes in becoming immortal. She gave him hope and made him believe that things would get better, that he deserved to be happy and that he wasn't selfish for wanting that for himself. He doesn't deny that she tried to kill him and that it hurt him more than anything to have someone who built him up tried to pull the rug out from under his feet. She did do that, she did try to sedate him, and she would've very nearly succeeded in her ritual, but if it wasn't for the hope that she had given him to LIVE then he wouldn't even have made it to dinner. Sid feels like he owes her so much and he misses her every day that passes that she isn't there with him.

He wants her memory to be good, unmarred by what had happened. Watch how quickly he becomes agitated when you try to drag her name through the mud. He'd let you off with a warning, polite, curt even but if you keep going he's going to get hostile.

🌪️-- What is the one choice he regrets (not) making?

Sometimes he regrets not having stuck with baseball and going pro with his brother. In other verses, he regrets not making the decision to reach out to him when he was struggling. If he could go back in time and correct his path, he would've done it, if not to spare them both of the heartache. Jun knows his brother is alive and innocent of whatever narrative had been spun by Selene, but it hurts him knowing that Sid doesn't trust him enough to tell him about anything. He thinks he's protecting his brother, but in actuality, he's hurting him... him and his parents. Every now and then he calls his brother, but that's it, aside from the light stalking he does to make sure they're alright.

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FLIRTY STARTERS

Sentence starters that are flirty. Change pronouns as you see fit.

❛ Can I hold your hand, or is that too forward? ❜ ❛ I think your laugh might be my new favorite sound. ❜ ❛ You look beautiful in the morning light. ❜ ❛ I saved you the last piece, of course I did. ❜ ❛ I didn’t fall for you. I tripped… over your smile. ❜ ❛ Can I braid your hair? I’ve wanted to for ages. ❜ ❛ I was having a bad day until you showed up. ❜ ❛ I love how you say my name—makes it sound like poetry. ❜ ❛ You could be wearing a trash bag and still be the prettiest person in the room. ❜ ❛ I don’t know what we are, but I like it. A lot. ❜ ❛ You always smell like vanilla and danger. ❜ ❛ I want to kiss you, but I don’t want to mess up your lipstick. ❜ ❛ You’ve got stars in your eyes when you look at me. ❜ ❛ I’m not used to someone looking at me like you do. ❜ ❛ Stay. Please. Just a little longer. ❜ ❛ You remembered my favorite song? ❜ ❛ Your hoodie looks better on me. Just saying. ❜ ❛ I could listen to your voice all day. ❜ ❛ Come here. I wanna kiss your forehead. ❜ ❛ Your smile makes my whole day better. ❜ ❛ You’re blushing again. It’s adorable. ❜ ❛ You tuck your hair behind your ear every time I compliment you. ❜ ❛ You’re my favorite notification. ❜ ❛ I made you coffee the way you like it. ❜ ❛ You don’t have to say anything—I like just being with you. ❜ ❛ You always make the world feel a little softer. ❜ ❛ You’re so warm, I might never let go. ❜ ❛ I think I’m falling for you, and honestly, I’m not even scared. ❜ ❛ I didn’t think someone like you would ever look at me that way. ❜ ❛ I’m not flirting—I’m admiring. There’s a difference. ❜ ❛ Your laugh makes me want to do dumb things just to hear it again. ❜ ❛ This would be more romantic if my heart wasn’t trying to punch its way out of my chest. ❜ ❛ You keep making that face and I’m going to have to kiss it. ❜ ❛ You can scoot closer, I don’t bite. Unless you want me to. ❜ ❛ I had a dream about you last night. Want to guess what happened? ❜ ❛ I brought snacks and cuddles—pick your poison. ❜ ❛ You should wear that color more often. It brings out your eyes… and all my feelings. ❜ ❛ I don’t think I’ve ever felt more comfortable than I do around you. ❜ ❛ Can we stay like this? Just for a while? ❜ ❛ I like the way you touch me—gentle, like you actually care. ❜ ❛ You’re always the first person I want to tell when something good happens. ❜ ❛ I didn’t think this would happen, but I’m really glad it did. ❜ ❛ You’re the best part of my day, every day. ❜ ❛ You look good with your hair like that… but you’d look better next to me. ❜ ❛ You always make me feel like I’m enough. ❜ ❛ I want to memorize every little thing about you. ❜ ❛ Your hand fits so perfectly in mine, it’s not even fair. ❜ ❛ You’re trouble. Beautiful, irresistible trouble. ❜ ❛ You’re the only person who’s ever made me feel safe and excited at the same time. ❜ ❛ I could fall asleep to the sound of your heartbeat. ❜

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✎ㅤ. . .ㅤ𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑪𝑨𝑵𝑶𝑵 𝑸𝑼𝑬𝑺𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵𝑺.

₊˚⊹ ㅤa collection of character analysis /headcanon questions to learn more about your character and your partners'! writing/headcanon prompts requested by anonymous. feel free to edit these as you see fit.

[ 🖐️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat do their hands feel like: soft, calloused, trembling ? [ ☂️ ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they crave touch or fear it ? [ 🎐 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they have a sound, like a song or voice, that they associate with peace ? [ 🕊️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhen did they feel the safest ? [ 💤 ]ㅤ.ㅤhow do they sleep ? curled up, sprawled, holding onto something ? [ 🦇 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat is a fear they never talk about ? [ 🔒 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat is a secret they’ve sworn never to tell ? [ 🪢 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhen was the last time they broke a promise ? [ 🫳 ]ㅤ.ㅤwho do they feel they owe, but never paid back ? [ 💼 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat do they always carry with them ? [ 🧨 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat’s the quickest way to set them off, even if they hide it well ? [ ⛓️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat does guilt feel like to them ? [ 💢 ]ㅤ.ㅤwho have they never forgiven and never will ? [ 🩸 ]ㅤ.ㅤis there something or someone that, if lost, would break them ? [ 🌧️ ]ㅤ.ㅤis there a pain they refuse to heal from ? [ 🪞 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhen have they looked at their reflection and hated what they saw ? [ 📿 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat superstition or ritual do they cling to ? [ 🌊 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhen was the last time they cried ? [ 🐾 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo animals like them instinctively ? [ 🪶 ]ㅤ.ㅤhow do they laugh ? [ 🫀 ]ㅤ.ㅤwho taught them what love is ? did it hurt ? [ 💭 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they believe they’re worthy of being loved ? [ 🎀 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat is their main love language ? [ 🔦 ]ㅤ.ㅤwho do they search for ? [ 📜 ]ㅤ.ㅤis there a story they love sharing with others ? [ 🌒 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they have a dream or goal they have given up on ? [ 🕯️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat memory do they replay when they’re alone ? [ 🌪️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat’s the one choice they regret (not) making ? [ 🧩 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat’s a truth about themselves they refuse to admit ? [ 🍻 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat kind of drunk are they ? [ ✉️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat kind of letter would they write but never send ? [ 🗡️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat is a scar that they have but never talk about ? [ 🕸️ ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they have a favourite lie they like to hear ? [ 🪦 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat would they want on their gravestone but never admit aloud ? [ 🎱 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat kind of future do they crave, and who’s in it ? [ 🌀 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they have a recurring dream or nightmare ? [ 🍃 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they feel like they belong ? [ ⚓ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat does “home” mean to them ? [ 🧭 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhere would they go if they could disappear tomorrow ?

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Been playing a lot of Overwatch recently with the boyfriend. . . .

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Thinking about how Sid tried to step up and be more like a father than a big brother to Jun after he started training……….. and how he unintentionally infantalizes or views him as a kid still because of how drastically different their lives changed.

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He gives her a little shrug with a furrow of his brow. He wasn't the scholarly twin after all. Jun would've probably said something more poetic. It is as fragrant as a horse's rear end. With a half-smile, Sid shakes his hands out a bit. He had hoped that there were some people that made it out alright, thankfully these were just small fry demons. It's hard to imagine how this had all happened, sort of like how that tower was raised out of nowhere just a couple of years ago. Well, as long as she's fine, then that's good.

She's so cool, handling herself like that. That's what makes her an exemplary hunter, doing all that she does without any powers or fancy tricks. Just a whole lotta guns. He starts to pick at his hands a bit as the danger seems to have passed, for now. They're always like this after he has to use them, itchy and heavy.

"Right!", he sniffed, trying to ignore the nasty demon smell and scout for people. As much as he hated it, he had began to be able to pick them out now. It's how he knew Lady was on her way before she actually arrived.

"I think we ought to go down the road", he suggested. An apartment complex was nearby, and judging by the odd mix of scents, he could determine that there was a small group hidden away. Someone must've opened a window... or needed a smoke break.

"Very eloquent," Lady retorts with a sarcastic roll of her eyes.

She gives Sid a once-over but seems like other than the one slash he was untouched. Lady appreciates his attempt to do the same but given he's not yet been able to shed his... whatever his demonic power does to his hands it's not as comprehensive of an evaluation.

"I'm fine, thanks. Kept my distance just fine with my bullets."

The nest that had formed in the corner store was now disintegrating thanks to the two of them. The devil hunter carefully streatches her recently dislocated arm which with some ice and some time should get to feeling normal again relatively soon.

"Better than it was. But we should still find some survivors who have set up a base after this most recent attack."

With them being so common at this point, when they did happen, humanity was now quick to act and block off safe zones until Devil Hunters could come in and clean the place up.

Lady of course, would be amongst them. Soon as she healed up a bit that was.

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At some point he had considered that Selene had been replaced. That in all of this, it was her who had been taken away, replaced with a pale imitation that pretended that she was that selfsame woman. But he recognized the way she smiled, the cherry red lipstick tint that she loved. Through his blurring vision, he could make it out through the glass panels she'd stand behind with other men and women. Swathed in pristine white, like the walls of his enclosure, after the tests had concluded he had reached for her. Her name was dragged across his tongue, but they couldn't hear him, not with how weak it was.

Today they had wanted to test how quickly he could regenerate his wounds after sustaining a lethal injury to the site of his injection. They had him strapped to a table, with his arms spread open and the collar fixing his neck so that he could be deprived of the comfort of looking away. They didn't need the asset to second guess himself when they would inevitably be deploying him on field missions. In feeble apprehension, his body had attempted to brace itself for the impact of the slug. The plates were slow to get out of his chest, the uniform he wore bound them tightly before they could form and harden. He heard the blast from the gun before he saw it, his body jerked back and he pulled on his cuffs.

White, searing pain erupted as he struggled, crying out as the panic settled in. Blistering as it was, his body had endured the shot just enough to keep anything from hitting his heart. Sid wretched, but his stomach had been kept purposefully empty to avoid contaminating himself. Shell and skin both merged as one as he huffed and heaved before something beeped in the collar they secured to him: adrenaline to ensure that he would not pass out. After all, they were creating a bio-weapon. The moment he was brought into this facility, he was no longer identified as a human. In the drug induced haze, he had snarled, a tearful, shaking roar was ripped from him as he continued to strain himself and yell.

"IS THIS WHAT YOU WANT?!", he cried out, as blood flowed freely down his front to paint his toes. Blood that curdled, blood that began to crystallize as he put himself back together.

The virus coursing through his veins began to mutate his fingers, circling around his forearms as he fought to break free. The metal creaked some as more mass crammed itself within its confines. Yes, more..! More..! He was an idiot to think that they could be appeased, that he had any doubt in Piers when he should've been doing more to help them both escape. Now... he didn't care if he lived, they had to get out.

Plotted Starter w/ @blxxditout

Piers sat in his cell pretty much, doing nothing considering there was nothing to do. They never gave him any entertainment, so he usually just switched from laying on the floor to sitting up or standing and pacing around. He wore raggedy clothes and a bracelet around his wrist. The bracelet was more like a tracking device of some sort in case he escaped.

Piers stood up and began pacing around the room. He took his hand up and placed it over his eye. He often felt pain within it, but he always just dealt with it. He then turned his head as he heard the door unlock, and someone walked in, holding a giant needle in between his fingers. A tall man in a labcoat. Piers took a couple of steps back. He was tired he didn't have the energy to mutate himself. He had been having severe trouble sleeping.

Two other men walked in behind him and slammed the door shut and locked it before the two men grabbed Piers and pinned him down as the scientist leaned down and injected him with a needle that was like a tranquilizer so they could transport him to the room that they were going to test and experiment on him at.

One of the men picked up Piers and threw him over his shoulder and began to leave, followed by the scientist.

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"I know what it's like", he offered when he noticed how detached he seemed from it. "If you wanna talk about it, I wouldn't mind lending an ear..."

It's probably the last thing that he wants to hear, but he knows that he'd have wanted someone to talk about his own nightmares with. Back when it still weighed so heavily on his mind.

Dante could feel a headache coming on, raising a hand to pinch to bridge of his nose and rub the sleep from his eyes.

The nightmare felt too real, too vivid. He clasped his hands together to keep them from shaking.

"Yeah...I'm fine," he replied softly, avoiding Sid's gaze. "It's just a dream..."

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That's the way of his life now, never knowing what he ought to expect next. Preternaturally, he feels himself begin to seethe at this unfamiliar voice, hackles rising as he encroaches. It feels sharper now, the prickling sensation budding before his bones, but his expression did not beget that. Hesitantly, does he finally give in, chancing a look at this imposing entity in his home away from home. Sid didn't know what to expect.

A ghastly man without a shirt on stood there, unlike the shadows in this room, his presence demanded attention. Ever the fledgling, he feared for what would happen if he did continue to play ignorant. He scoots himself back, craving distance as he brings himself upright. Such a coward... a quick, fleeting thought as he tries to think of something to say from the usual bin of inquiries: who are you, why are you here, please don't hurt me, and so on. Through the dryness in his throat and the thrum of his pulse, he managed to get something out that wasn't a whimper or a whine.

"I don't know what you want from me... I- I don't have much of anything", so please... but he wasn't that ignorant as to not have a clue. It was the reason he was here-- why he was still here.

Like a prey animal's last response, the form on the bed freezes in anticipation of whatever may come, and although Quan Chi could choose to feel disrespected at the lack of acknowledgement, he knows how these simple creatures behave - the man on the bed is merely afraid, understandably so.

"Your heart races." Deep, accented, and tinged with the slightest bit of mockery is the voice that cleaves through the silence, savoring the terror he incentivized. "There is no need, I am not here to harm you… but you have something in your possession that does belong to me."

He steps closer to the foot of the bed, looming over the over like a paralysis demon, the taint of the undead marring his presence, caring not for the other's comfort or the hour of his visit.

"... It is rude to ignore a guest." Now his voice is sharp, demanding and leaving no possibility to the option of continuing to avoid his presence.

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"Yeah, there's a young woman here who was just attacked in a mugging incident...", he had been explaining to the operator, frowning when he heard her tell him not to call them. Poor kid... this probably would cost an arm and a leg to pay off.

Sid hears the sound of her failed departure before he finally turns back around to see the girl had hurt herself. The lady on the other side of the line was asking for an address by then, what street they were on. He was torn. How else was he supposed to help her? He flicked his eyes back to the phone for a moment, struggling with what to say and do next. They were getting impatient with him when he stammered, moving his free hand to his head as he sighed.

"Uh... actually, I think someone else is handling it right now... I'll- I'll get off the line", he decided quickly, hanging up before another word got out. Looking her over now, how would they try to treat her at a hospital, people don't exactly just have wings. She'd draw attention to herself just being there.

"Okay... no ambulance, but let me walk you to a clinic or something at least", he offered as a compromise.

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reblog to tell your mutuals they’re lovely as fuck

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@shallliveoninsong is curious 👀

He likes it when his partner(s) stink a little. Be it covered in blood or sweat— so long as it isn’t anyone else’s scent he picks up off from them. He’s always been a bit possessive, but after becoming a demon it’s gotten worse. He’ll go out of his way to make sure that they smell more like him.