#DMC AU FIC

[skvaderarts]

Petrichor Chapter 34: Palpitations

Chapter 34: Palpitations

Note: Hi everyone! Sorry that this chapter is a week late! The last month has gone by so fast omfg! Thanks for your support on the Elden Ring fic XD what a weird thing to say lol! Maybe I’ll stream sometime so you can all laugh at how bad I am at that game hehe! But either way, expect more chapters soon! I’ll keep you posted. Might end up being the chapter for Friday this week depending on time constraints. But either way, I hope you like this chapter and are having a good week! Take care and I’ll see you in the comments! Have fun!

(-~-)

The door to one of the upstairs bedrooms was propped wide open, a brick from the back garden keeping it from losing prematurely. Plastic covered the floor to prevent stains on the carpet. It might not have been brand new, but it was in like new shape and had recently been deep cleaned. Each of the windows in the room were pushed up towards the very top of the frame, locked in place by a notched mechanism that held them there once they were pushed past a certain point. Fresh air came in through the window, helping to evacuate the toxic fumes from their current environment before they could do any harm, all the while a ceiling fan spun overhead to assist with both cooling the space and circulating the air.

On one side of the room against a wall was a medium-height step ladder, and on top of it stood Vivienne, a long-handled paint roller in her left hand. Her long hair was pulled back in a bun as she leaned her right hand against the part of the wall that she hadn’t painted yet. And as she ran the roller down the wall from top to bottom, she hummed a quiet tune to herself, more or less content to spend the rest of the evening doing this should that be how long it took.

But before long, the inevitable happened. Her roller ran out of pain. Turning towards the roller tray, she was silently surprised to see that it had ran out of the paint she’d been using to soak the roller without noticing it until now. Her mind really had been someplace else. This simply wouldn’t do. She was going to have to get down and get some more.

Just as she was looking back to double-check her footing before stepping down, she was reminded of a fact that she’d also forgotten. She wasn’t actually alone in the room. He’d had simply been so quiet that she’d forgotten he was there. Perhaps he could assist her by bringing the can over to her. The less distance she had to carry it right now, the better. She’d been going through something of a weak spell for a while now and she honestly didn’t feel like carrying that huge can of paint across the room.

"Can you push the paint over this way for me, please? If it’s not too much trouble?"

Vergil glanced over at her, his side of the room miraculously, but perhaps unsurprisingly, nearly fully painted. Well, that one specific wall was. But that was significant considering the fact that not only was he using the much darker and more noticeable accent color for the room, but he had to go around a set of two windows and, as such, had to be extraordinarily careful not to get paint all over the baseboard. 

Neither of them really had any idea if they’d properly applied the painter's tape correctly, and didn’t want to find out the hard way that they hadn't. They were actually quite lucky that they were allowed to paint in the first place. The landlord had been uncharacteristically nice about the prospect of her tenants wanting to paint one of the rooms. Perhaps she understood the desire to customize the room a new baby was going into since she had children of her own?

Picking up the can of paint effortlessly, he walked across the room in only a few steps, his long legs making quick work of the square footage at their disposal. The room wasn’t small, but it was huge, either. He then refilled the tray for her and sat the can down for her, available when she needed to refill it. He then gestured towards the roller, noticing a spot she was planning to go back to that was quite high up.

"I can do better than that. Can you hand me your roller?” He asked as he looked over at it. The spot was just far enough over that she couldn’t reach it after having moved her ladder, but the paint was still wet. The last thing that she wanted to do was paint diagonally across a section of the wall she’d painted up and down initially. She wanted this to look as smooth as possible. Like one of those magazines with the lovely interiors that she flipped through from time to time.

Vergil patched the section that she’d missed with an ease that made her admittedly slightly jealous of her partner’s height. She wasn’t short but Vergil… well. Yea. He then handed her the paint roll back before giving her a soft look, seemingly wondering or noticing something that she didn’t say out loud.

"Aw, thank you! That does make things a bit easier for me, even if you didn't need to do that for me." Vivienne said with a soft smile as she leaned over slightly to give him a kiss on the cheek. He stayed still and allowed this despite the slight dilation of his pupils indicating that he might be worried that she could fall. The ladder was stable but it probably didn’t appreciate all this sideways movement.

"If you're going to stand on that ladder, I'd prefer you make as few trips up and down it as possible." He said softly, looking down at the ladder on the floor. He then gently placed his index finger underneath her chin, allowing his thumb to rest on the small space between her chin and her bottom lip. He then leaned forward and placed a kiss upon her forehead, not needing to tiptoe to reach her due to her position on the ladder. She blushed and rubbed the back of her neck between her ear and her hairline as he nodded and retreated to the other side of the room to relocate what few tools he needed to the opposite side of the room nearest to the doorway. He would be painting his side the same color as her wall, the only different colored wall being the one with the windows that he’s just done. It was an emerald green while the rest of the room was a lovely silverish celadon color. Most of the baby furniture was going to be a darker slate gray color. They both agreed that it should have a lovely contrast and that it would be a great alternative to the typical pink and blue everything that saturated seemingly every molecule of baby-related products. It was becoming less prevalent, but it was still overwhelming to look at.

"That's fair." She considered for a moment whether or not she should bring up something that was on her mind, not wanting to seem dismissive or disingenuous purely for the sake of pride. But before she continued painting, she came to the conclusion that perhaps it was best to simply bring up what she had on her mind this time. "Vergil I… I know why you worry, but I don't want you to. I'm alright. Really I do appreciate your assistance, however. I didn't think you would be interested in doing something like this."

He paused for a moment, looking over at her. He seemed to examine the wall, unsure as to where he should start. At least they had already trimmed the whole room in painter's tape beforehand. One less thing to worry about.

"I didn't, either. But then it occurred to me that this is a unique experience that I would perhaps regret passing up if I didn’t take the opportunity to partake in it. And you did seem so very excited… " He glanced away from her and back towards the wall, his starting location now finalized. He then began to run the roller down the wall, coating it with the gray paint he’d just soaked his new roller in. They’d opted to simply purchase a third roller instead of risking the dark paint mixing with the light. After all, there was no way that they knew of to ensure that the emerald green roller was dark totally and utterly clean, and waiting for it to dry would have taken longer than they would have liked. “I… Thought that spending this time together might be… enjoyable. I was not incorrect.”

"Vergil I… thank you." She held her hand out to blow him a playful kiss, aware of the fact that stepping down the ladder to go to him would only cause him to panic. His fear that she would fall off of the letter or topple over and hit the ground was understandable. It was something that concerned her, too. But she didn't want him to worry. She still had things to do in her day-to-day life that required her to climb and bend and move around. And while he was very helpful and attentive, he wasn’t always around, much to his dismay. She would simply have to be more mindful of the risks that she took and watch her footing. That was the best she could do for now. But she wasn’t helpless, not by a long shot. And she knew that he knew that. She didn’t have to point that out. She just hoped he wouldn’t worry himself sick over it. 

But as she was considering this, Vergil broke the silence between them.

"How did your visit go? With the doctor."

For reasons she couldn’t pinpoint, her brain went totally blank. She knew the answer to that question. In fact, she’d been planning to bring it up when they were finished. But for some reason that she didn’t understand, when he brought it up first, it had thrown her for a bit of a loop. Well, now was as good of a time as any. She could talk and use her hands at the same time.

"Oh, everything is fine for now. I'm barely past my first trimester. But I suspect that things will become more difficult as time passes." She said honestly. She was 5 months along now, but the time had just flown past. Despite her persistent miserable state as a result of the symptoms that persisted as a result of her current condition, she was excited to be just over halfway done.

He nodded, seemingly deep in thought. He’d been out of town for a few days and just arrived this morning, but he hadn’t forgotten that she’d mentioned needing to go to the doctor. She had several visits, and they were quite frequent. And not all of them were for the same thing. Several specialists were involved. After all, her other medical needs didn’t just disappear because she was pregnant, did they? Nothing severe or dangerous, but they were still factors nonetheless, and as such, they needed to be carefully monitored.

"Understandable. Then the fatigue you've been suffering from is typical?" He asked, stealing a glance in her general direction. He allowed the roller to soak in the paint again before continuing to paint the wall. He was actually just about half done now. But then again, he did have a speed advantage.

"... No. He said that being tired is normal, but to the degree that I have been the last month or so…"  She wasn’t sure how to explain what she wanted to say in a way that wouldn’t frighten him, so she decided to just say it how it came to mind and then clarify if he became alarmed. But she imagined that he would be fine. He didn’t exactly have a habit of being visibly shocked or freaking out. No, that would be very much unlike him. She would be the one with a reason to be concerned if he reacted like that. "It's most certainly to do with the nature of my preexisting condition and, well, how… atypical our child will be. But my weak constitution certainly isn’t helping."

She’d know that she’d had one more or less all her life. She’d been this way for as long as she could remember. It was something that she’d learned to live with and work around in a way that wasn’t hugely detrimental to her day-to-day life, but she did have to admit that it was becoming harder and harder to do that recently. This… was taking a lot more out of her than she could have ever imagined. Vivienne didn't think that it would be easy by any stretch of the imagination, but this was… well, a bit much. But she was sure she’d be okay. She only had to tough it out a little while longer and then she could start recovering. Right?

"I wish I could ask my mother about what she experienced," Vergil said, a noticeable tinge of sadness in his tone of voice. She paused for a moment and looked over at him. It was rare that he ever mentioned his mother. He’d occasionally talked about his father, and she’d been shocked to learn who he was, but his mother was a guarded topic. She’d learned that the first time she’d played that record.

"I'm sorry, Vergil. I didn't mean to_" She didn’t get to finish before he looked over his shoulder at her and she stopped. He didn’t look upset with her. Far from it. He actually looked somewhat upset with himself. She always wondered why he looked that way when he spoke of her.

"You've done nothing to apologize for." He said softly, his tone low in pitch and his volume barely perceptible. His sorrow was evident, even as guarded as he was. She stepped down the ladder and placed her roller in the paint tray before approaching him, the man with the white hair meeting her halfway and, to her surprise, gently grasping her hands. It was rare that he did that."I have done much that I regret, especially with regards to my family. But this time everything will be different. I will keep you both safe. That I promise you."

The way he looked her up and down before settling upon her face so that he could look her in the eyes when he said that sent a shiver up her spine. Despite his tone, she understood with he meant. She believed him. She’d never doubted that for even a moment. But now her head hurt just looking at him, and she wasn’t entirely sure that was his fault. Was there too much paint in this room or something?

"Vergil… You don't need to make promises any more than I need to apologize. I believe you." She said gently as she squeezed his hands, realizing that he was having something of a hard time at the moment. It had to hurt knowing that his parents would probably never meet her or their child. He was still searching for one, and the other… that had to weigh heavily on his mind. Her situation with her family certainly did. “Your best is more than enough for me. I don’t need you to be perfect. I need you to be… you.”

He let her go and nodded as he gently placed a hand upon her shoulder, this time pulling her in gently to embrace her. He didn’t dare squeeze her, but he did hold her for a silent moment, his eyes closed as he rested his chin on the crown of her head. He didn’t know what to say to that, so he didn’t speak. But when he did release her, he nodded. It seemed that they both held very different standards for his behavior, and that his might be significantly higher.

"Good. Let us see if that faith remains after we assemble this furniture. I… " Vergil said, something akin to a smirk on his face. He looked at the boxes of furniture that sat in the hallway, apprehension all over his face. "I possess no skills when it comes to these matters."

She chuckled softly at his lack of confidence. Furniture wasn’t that hard to put together. She’d done it plenty of times. He had very steady hands and good self-control. It was hard to believe that he would do something silly like hammer straight through the frame. “It’s not that bad, honestly. Nothing to be afraid of. At least we don’t have to whittle it out of a tree or something.”

"Nothing to be afraid of.” The way that he repeated her words made it clear to her that he still wasn’t convinced. But at this point, his lack of confidence was more amusing to her than anything else. “As long as there's no nails or screws sticking through the mattress to poke the baby I'm sure it will be fine."

“I’m sure you wouldn’t do that!” She said, now slightly concerned herself. It seemed that the mental image of that was slightly alarming to her. Who could have guessed? Picking up on this, Vergil gave her something akin to a mischievous look.

"Let's see if you're still saying that once the cradle folds up and crushes them flat the first time we put them in it." His tone was far too casual for what he was saying, and something about that utterly wrecked her.

Vivienne was barely resisting the urge to laugh at this point, her face red and her head spinning slightly from the effort it took not to snicker at that. She knew that she should be horrified, but there was just something about the matter-of-fact way that he said that that threatened to put her in stitches.

"No! Heavens forbid! Like one of those old hand-drawn cartoons… " And with that said, she couldn't help but laugh. She pictured the cartoons she’d loved as a kid. The way the characters would get smashed and bashed and take the form of whatever had hit them. She couldn’t imagine that actually happening, but it was hilarious all the same. The poor baby. It was so funny. She was just terrible. She was going to be an awful parent.

"Precisely. But it will be considerably worse because this will be a real child. I don't intend to unintentionally build an iron maiden." Vergil said in a manner so falt and with a face so straight that she genuinely couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. And after a short pause, she gave in and burst into laughter. Gods, he really was going to kill her, wasn’t he?

She felt her skin become warm as her cheeks flushed and her eyes watered as she stepped back towards the ladder and stepped up the first two steps. She could barely breathe at this point, and it was starting to make her head spin and her lungs burn. She’s always thought that he had a good sense of humor, at least around her. But this was just hysterical to her and she had no idea why. Something about what he’d said had just pressed her funny button.

"Vergil, please. I'm becoming light-headed from laughter! I'm trying not to fall off this ladder and hit my head!"

Shaking his head he watched her seemingly struggle to decide if she was going to stay up there or climb down. It was only five steps, but she seemed very flustered. If nothing else, it was probably a good idea that she took a moment to catch her breath. They had a chair in the room for that very purpose, after all. "Perhaps you should sit, then? Once your feet have touched the ground, of course. Take a moment to compose yourself."

Panting slightly she stepped backward down the ladder and as both of her feet touched the ground, she nodded, clearly slightly dizzy but still in high spirits. She cleared her throat before continuing to speak. That wasn’t a half-bad idea.

"Actually, that sounds good. I must admit I do feel a bit light-headed all of a sudden. I-"

It was then as suddenly as she had begun speaking that she stopped and suddenly collapsed, her knees buckling as she fell forward and then backward, nearly onto her right side facing away from him. Only through pure reflex did he manage to reach her in time, but all the same, she had gone totally and utterly limp; unresponsive. And although he had managed to catch her, he couldn't suppress the arctic chill that shot up his spine. Nor the empty feeling in his chest and stomach or the acrid taste that suddenly overwhelmed his senses. This was pure and utter dread, something he couldn't recall feeling for a very long time. Something that he’d hoped to never feel again.

He had promised to protect her on numerous occasions before today, and he’d meant it every single time, but he couldn't protect her from this. She’d been dizzy and weak before, sure… but he’s never passed out. What… What was going on?

"... Vivienne… "

(-~-)

Well shit. Um, that doesn’t seem like a typical pregnancy symptom. Or is it?! Supposedly it is. I have no way of confirming this and wouldn’t even if I did lol! So the real question is this: is Vergil worrying himself over nothing or is this actually a problem? I guess that’s a question for later hehehe… 

[soybean-official]

Listen i love the Dadgil fluff as much as the next guy but let's be real here neither Dante nor Vergil are even remotely suitable to take care of a small child

[dmc-questions-anon]

What DO you think would happen if Vergil met Nero as Nelo Angelo?

Thanks for the ask!

The brain worms are now worming.

If Nelo Angelo and Nero were to meet, that probably means that Mundus found out that Vergil has a son somehow. So working off of that idea Mundus probably would've kidnapped Nero and used him to try and keep Vergil in line. In DMC 1 we see that Vergil still can try and fight against Mundus, so I wonder if getting attached to Nero would spark some more rebellion in him? Of course this wouldn't end up working out all that well considering any rebellion would probably be met with Mundus hurting Nero, so we got ourselves a very angsty AU here with Vergil fighting against the Nelo Angelo armor for Nero's sake, but doing this also getting Nero hurt.

Another idea I just thought of that would be different than the idea of "Mundus kidnaps Nero" would be Mundus, for whatever reason seizes Fortuna. Then we have Nero wandering a bit too far off and a bit too close to an armored demon, and said armored demon not really trying to stop doing anything about this. The two feel drawn towards each other, as if they are connected somehow. I'm sure quite yet where exactly this would lead, but I do feel like it's an interesting idea.

[river-muse]

That WIP ask game is seriously an underrated concept tbh, authors should be able to air out their works and ideas if they want to, even if those are unfinished.

Since I've been bugging you a little about MH I think I have to ask about the Monster Hunter Derelict WIP. MH Is an interesting setting for sure, but it's also hard to think of something to write in it, except maybe a dnd-like hunter party? Anyway, I'm rambling, definitely interested what you had going on There.

Also, I'm a filthy cheater and a sucker for time-themed fiction, so I definitely have to ask about Whatever Time May Bring. Feel free to ignore my filthy cheater double request tho

I agree! Being able to show off stuff we're working on without perfection being expected is super fun because I can pick out highlights and hold it up without needing to go "is this polished enough to be read?"

Since one is sort of a mini-fic that's an AU me and one of my close friends are messing around with for the funnies I'll answer both of your requests! I'm giggling and rubbing my hands together.

Monster Hunter Dereliction is the working title of a DMC MonHun AU that centers around a small Guild outpost in the Old World that pretty much has its shit figured out due to there not being many settlements in the area that need to be protected. My friend and I went "fuck it minimal family loss trauma in this department" so a lot of the cast is Around(tm) except for Sparda(we haven't decided what happened to him yet if anything).

There's sort of a plot figured out, though most of it's up in the air because we haven't had too much of a chance to talk more thoroughly about it and are just in the brainstorming department. We really just wanted to come up with our own biomes and monster designs for fun. It would involve a clash between two Elders breaking open a crevice in the earth that reveals an underground cavern system- and unknowingly awakening an Elder that has almost cosmic horror-esque traits to it. There's a sketch but it's not mine so I'd have to ask my friend later if he'd be cool with me sharing it.

For a little insight into some character placements, since I'm a bit obsessive about how lore in MonHun goes xD I won't go into what everyone is doing but I will share a handful.

I don't have much in way of writing, since I just got a few key ideas down- but have at it!

I think we decided Dante was the master in that area? He's mostly chilling around the outpost unless something super dangerous comes up that he's needed for.

Vergil is a high-ranking hunter who tends to do tasks for the Scholars that takes him into dangerous areas for the challenge and potential to explore old ruins. He's in and out of the outpost a lot on a whim so unless he's requested specifically good luck finding him.

Nero is an established hunter who tends to get a little babied by the others, which leads to him being more adamant about pushing his limits to prove himself and get them to stop worrying.

Eva regularly travels, recording locales and monsters in general peace.

Kyrie acts as the guild sweetheart for the location, handling quest assignments and making sure the hunters are properly prepared.

Credo is one of the residing guild knights, which is a rank in the guild that handles upholding guild regulation and deciding on punishment for anyone caught illegally poaching monsters.

Nell is the residential smithy! She's been training Nico for a long time now to take over in the future.

For now Nico tends to tag along behind Nero on a lot of hunts to observe them, swipe some new materials for herself, and experiment with equipment that diverts away from standard expectations.

Patty is a guild sweetheart in training, if I remember right? I only wrote her name in all caps in this post-it note and nothing else fdsgfbsdxjkgbj

-

Dante’s late to leave his room today, not expecting too many requests to come in if any. It’s been quiet since they’d sorted out the sudden influx of larger wyverns that had migrated South from their own territories. Which isn’t a good sign. It could mean something bigger is on the way soon. However nothing’s turned up. So to him the problem’s been solved. The peace lasts about as long as expected though, because the door pushes open without so much as a knock from the incoming visitor. It’s Lady. Not even in her armor yet but scowling as if she’d just gotten tossed around by a Diablos. “Where’s your fucking brother?” “Not even a good morning?” Dante yawns. “Passed morning a few hours ago.” Lady crosses her arms and leans against the doorframe “Now about Vergil-“ “Do I look like my brother’s keeper?” When It’s obvious Lady isn’t accepting that as an answer he groans and rests his feet on his desk “Out. On an expedition. That’s why one of the aptonoth aren’t in the stable. He’s North, checking out whatever caused that Wyvern displacement. Should be back in a few days.”

-

Vergil lingers by the ledge of the massive crevice, peering into the darkness to see faint shimmers of light that waver as if moving. It’s odd. With most of the trees decimated there should be plenty of sunlight shining down to show whatever’s down there. The darkness opens its eyes. Swirling colors and glowing light as faint pupils shrink to paper-thin slits when they focus on him. From the positioning of them Vergil isn’t sure if he’s looking face-to-face with a creature or with multiple. He doesn’t recognize any visible traits and stumbles away from the ledge. There’s a snapping noise and Vergil looks back to see the aptonoth has broken her binds in her attempt to flee, taking all of Vergil’s gear with her as she disappears into the treeline. A rattling, warbling noise that resembles a broken horn echoes loud enough that it hurts Vergil’s ears. He covers them with his hands and regrets not bringing earplugs. Something cold enough to leech the temperature through his armor wraps around his ankle, and drags him into the crevice. He grasps at the rock. His gloves dig in and he struggles to grab his blade. It slips from his hands and he falls with it. Darkness engulfs his vision made to feel darker by the eyes that fill his peripheral. One more eye, larger than all the others, opens up in front of him to blot out his last view of the sun.

-

Nero’s the first to volunteer and the first to be ready to depart. He shuffles about, fretting over what equipment to take and how long of a trip it will be. “Don’t you dare authorize that mission.” Credo objects, smacking his hand on the table “There’s no telling how long he’ll be gone, and if there is a wyvern strong enough out there to take Vergil down then I don’t feel comfortable sending him out.” “He’s qualified. Just as capable as the rest of us.” Dante insists “You need to stop babying him or he’ll never get his feet under him.” “How dare you accuse me of coddling one of our hunters?” “You’re not really beating the allegations. Especially since he’s got a crush on your sister.” “Do not-“ Nero objects. Dante stares, raises an eyebrow, and Nero clicks his tongue. Nero looks away while his cheeks flush red.

---

NOW onto-

Whatever Time May Bring. You have sniffed out the ONE NASNAH part that I think you're going to love the most, because it takes place when Nero's 15 and a certain 8 year old girl finds her way into Dante's life. It skims through the anime timeline and a bit beyond, since for reasons not yet revealed in the plot Dante decides to keep Vergil and Nero out of most of the details of his demon hunting work. It's a scene compilation like how "In Leaps and Bounds" was for little Nero. It's also finally the time where Nero starts questioning his family's behavior and secrets more than before.

-

Vergil watches the ensuing exchange with all of his attention he can muster. There’s something comedic about a young child pushing Dante to wits’ end when Nero at that age earned nothing but Dante’s adoration. He then notices Nero’s uncharacteristic silence. It takes just one glance to see Nero’s eyes are wide, watching Patty with an expression that he hasn’t seen before. “Nero?” Nero startles out of his thoughts, straightening up. “Uh, hi.” Nero says. He picks up his coat from the floor and dusts it off. “A little slow on the uptake. Did you overheat trying to wear that over here?” Dante asks. “No just-“ Nero looks away and seems to get his bearings “-wasn’t expecting to see you taking care of a kid. He’s being nice to you, right?” Nero looks at Patty with his question. “He’s horrible! He doesn’t clean, never explains anything until after it happens, and won’t eat anything but pizza and strawberry sundaes. I’m surprised he even knows what tomato juice is let alone drinks it.” Patty pouts and motions at Dante with a pointed finger.

-

Patty is- energetic. She’s outspoken and from how she speaks her mind is sharper than she leads others to believe. Yet she’s very much a child in how she behaves. Much like how Dante had been at her age to an extent. It had been obnoxious to deal with when younger, but Vergil can rationalize it as normal behavior for children in hindsight. Nero’s odd phase of having become quiet and calm as a child must have been a special case. “Would you advise I rescue Nero now, or later?” Vergil questions. “I think they’ll get along just fine without us hovering.” Dante pushes up from his chair and nudges a box of stuffed animals to the side with his foot. He tilts his head to the hallway door “Let’s leave them to it.” “And what will we be doing, instead?” “If you don’t want to know the weird details of the job, then I guess we can stay here and listen to Patty go on all day about that stupid show.” “Hey! I heard that.” Patty speaks up, looking over from the couch. “I wasn’t talking to you.” “But you were talking about me, so that’s pretty much the same thing.” Patty sticks her tongue out.

-

“What happened to my mom? Who was she?” Vergil’s gaze flicks away. Guilt passes over his face and he keeps cleaning without giving an answer. “Hey, you can’t just ignore me. I asked you a question-” Nero objects. “I can, and I will.” Vergil holds out the sauce pan “That is a topic for another time, Nero.” “Another time? Seriously?” Nero scowls as he uses a bit more force than needed to dry the pan “You’re gonna dare say that to me after years of this? I don’t even know what her name was.” Vergil pauses washing the dishes, resting his hands on the edges of the sink.

-

Thank you for letting me go insane and giving me a chance to share with you some Patty Propaganda! I had to seriously dig around and be careful with what I show since there's quite a few parts between the fic I'm currently uploading and this one, but I would be damned if I didn't give you something to look forward to. <3

[thirstforhelmets]

Wife: *slams open the door to the DMC* *stomps her way in*

Dante: Oh! Hey, Q/Reader/Vergil’s Wife/Sister-in-law/Etc.! 

Wife: *Slams palms on desk*

Wife: Where is he?

Dante: *Blinks* Uh. You mean Vergil? Ain’t he always with you?

Wife: Don’t play dumb with -me-, Dan-! 

*Cellphone rings*

Wife: *Picks up* Vergil? The hell you go?!

Wife: ...

Wife: ...

Wife: Yeah, well, Dante’s trying to put the moves on me he-

*Portal opens up in the middle of the lobby*

Wife: *shit-eating grin and hangs up with a click of a button*

Dante: You little shit.

Wife: Nehehehehee~

[hopeworth]

the demon of new babylon

devil may cry | teen and up audiences | mission fic | 13.5k words | in-progress

Three years after the twins return from the underworld, Dante disappears on a job, and in that very same city a demonic invasion pops up overnight. The rest of the Devil May Cry crew gather to defeat this new devil and find Dante, but the city is more alive than expected and there is something strangely familiar about these enemies. // In which Lady gets herself an army, Trish keeps rolling nat 20 for vicious mockery, Vergil is not cooperating, and Dante is the damsel in distress. Oh, and Nero has to suffer this family. Again.

[silverstream2]

Possibly for an AU:

Headcanon that Patty runs a small cleaning service. The name is "The Devil's Cleaning Service". It's mostly a summer job, and occasionally in the winter, but she likes doing it, and she's good at it. Most of her clients are old people that couldn't or didn't have the energy to do the cleaning themselves*, and sometimes their payment will take the form of knitted or crochet things, or baked goods and tea, or old books, rather than money, but Patty doesn't mind. She'll pass on things she doesn't want or need to people that do want or need them, and she appreciates the thought. She likes hanging out and chatting with the old people (the pleasant ones, anyway), and she's good at it.

Once Patty gets out of high school, she could probably do the job full time, if she wanted to, and her elderly customers would make good references. Nina, Patty's mom, helps Patty out, too, especially with the finances and driving.

[*= Patty absolutely counts Dante on her list of "old people", and he calls her "Pattycake" in front of some of her elderly customers in revenge. Which, in turn, led to Patty making Dante clean out said elderly customer's gutters in revenge.

Patty: "You're taller than me anyway, so don't complain! And I'll consider the work as counting towards that debt you owe me."

She also gives him a red coverall to wear while he works, tho, so he doesn't get his clothes dirty. He still looks vaguely ridiculous, even without his red jacket, but as long as he doesn't overheat, then Patty is fine with that. She doesn't give him shit about how he looks, because you can't really care about that when your main job is cleaning. The most she'd do is joke that the bleach or paint stains really bring out his eyes or match his hair. She'd probably give him a hat or something, too, to keep his hair out of his eyes. This is gutter cleaning, after all- you need to be able to see what you're doing.

Dante's injured pride notwithstanding, he does fine, and Patty's customers send Patty over to him with a strawberry cake as a thank you afterwards, so it all evens out.]

You could probably make a Devil May Cry anime episode out of this (basically just Patty going 'round the houses and looking after the dead and dying, very Discworld witch-y), tbh, if somehow a demon got involved in this, but I don't want to think about that right now. Still could be interesting, tho.

[mocosa-media]

I had this idea that Kat's mom had something very similar to Kat herself. In the sense that she started seeing stuff but Kat was only a child and was like "No. Stop." Because if her mom is crazy, they'll be separated.

Even with that, Kat and her momma have a very nice life. ❤

[fabdante]

If you want: Tell me about the Verat psychic link AU? 👀 It sounds interesting! (I also wonder what it'd be like if the twins had something like that, but I don't really have any ideas on what to DO with that AU, so. *listens to you*)

Oh yes I would love to share!

This is going to be really long, bare with me asdfghjk I have to explain the AU first

I'm going to put this all under the cut because it's just a lot of random info asdfghj. But the short of it is: Kat, super powerful psychic, has linked her and Vergil's brains, ramping up their codependency and rendering them Very Scary to be on the bad side of.

The long of it below.

The AU is very weird. I love crossovers like, a lot, and so does my girlfriend so we had a while were we just kept making these massive multi thing crossovers. This AU was one of those which involved basically everything we liked but in Bioshock. Except the idea was like, Rapture from Bioshock if due to different leadership and regulations it lasted until the 80s where it's slow crumbling due to it's like, leadership crumbling and falling away to various gangs and organizations within the city (somewhat similar to the original Bioshock but more emphasis on the crime underground and less emphasis on Ayn Rand). This is where most of our characters were, the various crime organizations and gangs coming up and trying to gain the power that's up for grabs in the shifting environment of 80s Rapture.

Which is....genuinely such an alternative universe it...barely even feels connected to fandom anymore? Like genuinely, it'd be really easy to scrub the serial numbers off and just make this about some other underwater city isolated and secret from the rest of the world but, currently it's not that, and naturally the reboot kids are in it.

But it kind of existed in part to, yeah, explore the fun dynamics you can get out of your favorite characters and franchises all shoved into one very specific setting. But also what would happen in the setting of Rapture if it was allowed to last longer then the like 11 years it got in game and what the ramifications of that might be. Also because Rapture in the 80s would look very coo.

One concept we were really interested in is like, what would happen with plasmids in particular. For anyone unfamiliar with Bioshock, one of the main things is they've discovered a technology they can use to rewrite people's genetic code basically. This can be used for all sorts of things from cosmetic procedures to one of the main gameplay elements of Bioshock, various powers. Given the city of Rapture in game only lasted like, 11 years though and Adam (the substances used to create plasmids) wasn't discovered until a few years even into that we don't really see the results of it generations down the line.

Plasmids and what they do to the body and mind in game tend to be very...unstable. Adam and Eve, both which fuel plasmids, are addictive and most people kind of just lose their minds to it as the Adam eats at their bodies and minds.

But the effects of plasmids are in the DNA code of the pecxople who used them, right? Like, people in theory could pass these abilities down genetically, now that they're in their DNA code. So the idea was like, if you cracked down on Adam to avoid at least part of what led Rapture to fall in game, what would happen with the fact that you now have people who can essentially have super powered babies with abilities that may or may not be more stable then the original plasmids? Stronger to?

This kind of lays the ground work for the Verat part of the AU. Because the twins in this setting couldn't be Nephilim and Kat couldn't be psychic, but we wanted them to have abilities. So they became what we called 'genetic plasmids', a group of people born to parents who used plasmids which have since been highly regulated and banned but still retain abilities of the original plasmids used in Rapture before the ban because they were born with the genetic code for them.

Genetic plasmids kind of pose a problem for 80s Rapture so a lot of them, upon being found, are locked up in this separate area of the city with labs and what not to both study what makes the plasmids more stable in them and keep them away from everyone else.

The idea with Vergil is he had abilities based in those of the Winter Blast plasmid (Dante was Incinerate) so he has ice powers essentially. Probably largely immune to the cold as well. But his powers are less important here.

Kat, though, was based on Telekinesis and this is the important one. We wanted to play with the idea that more stable plasmids that are born with a person could mean infinitely more powerful plasmids. So Kat's powers aren't just telekinetic abilities, she is just an all around incredibly powerful psychic. This is also aided by the fact that Adam, as we know it in game, has a side effect of kind of connecting minds to begin with? Like, I'm explaining things very briefly here but we know it can do that so Kat can tap into that. So she's telekinetic, she can read minds, I think we toyed with tapping into the unused teleportation plasmid from the game, all that good stuff. (I have a soft spot for AUs where Kat is stronger then the boys).

We had a few versions of this AU so I don't have like one backstory for how and why Kat met but the important part of this for the question is that at some point, for whatever reason, Kat decides to psychically link her and Vergil rather permanently after just kind of visiting him a lot in his own mind. Thus making it so she is like, always in his head and always communicating with him in his head. He of course talks back and stuff and he's allowed back into her mind but the important thing is he can't shut her out, she can shut him out. If she wanted to, at least.

I've probably mentioned before but I tend to write Verat pretty codependent so this dynamic just ramps that up to an insane level. A lot of this is informed by that codependency.

So they kind of share two brains at all times and are always in communication with each other and they rarely talk outloud to one another anymore since they don't need to and they are almost always around each other. If they're not, they are still in active communication. They can share body sensations through Kat, and Kat can allow them to share dreams. She rarely, if ever, shuts off the link intentionally and they are just always, always in each others brains. Dante refers to them often as a two headed snake.

If the link is severed abruptly, I think I decided it hurts Vergil. Likely due to the fact somethings happened to Kat which has hurt her but, also just severing it so harshly is painful. They're also just so used to one another in their brains like, it's not a comfortable feeling when that's not there.

The AU was never really plotted, we liked throwing things at the wall and coming up with concepts for what this very large group of characters could be doing in this setting we made up based off another setting. So we had a few backstory idea's for what led to this and neither is really like...firm anymore. Particularly with how much time has passed since either of us has worked on the finer details of this AU. I just always really loved this dynamic for them, I thought it was interesting to explore both in how Vergil and Kat were together but also how other characters perceived them.

I also at some point made a like 7 hour playlist? I should go back in and clean it up sometime but here's that and I also have a tag for the general Vibes tm of the au here

Anyway, so that's the AU where Verat have a psychic link and it's everyone elses problem!

[nearisqueer]

i think human AUs for non-human characters are cool and I think non-human AUs for human characters are sweet. You know what I want? A version of Nero DMC with a full tattoo sleeve replacing his devil bringer. I just think it makes visual sense

[skvaderarts]

Petrichor Chapter 24: Artist

Chapter 24: Artist 

Note: Hi everyone! Hope you’re all doing well! Was it hot where all of you live today, too, or was that just me? Texas, man. This is the only place I’ve ever lived where it’s been hot in October. I know we're not there just yet, but damn. Close enough. SMH.

(-~-)

In a small room off to the side of the living area was a tiny office, every wall crammed with storage units and plastic tubs that had been stacked as neatly as the limited service space would allow. Many of them were tilting in a manner that implied that they might slide over onto the floor soon, but the space was tidy either way. For now.

A glance around the small room was all it took to find art supplies scattered everywhere. On the desk in the middle of the space were several adjustable wooden reference figures and stacks of different types of paper and canvas. Paint brushes, pens, markers, pencils, charcoal. There were no shortage of mediums available, but they all seem to pertain to either canvas or paper, her choice of medium apparent without even seeing any of her works. 

On the corner of the desk farthest from the light was an old box that looked as though it might contain a vintage camcorder or something of the like if the strap hanging out of it and the stack of vintage lenses were anything to go by. A few photos were hung on the wall, but none of them contained people. Animals and all forms of nature were on display ranging from lush forests and winding rivers to cows in fields and dogs playing in the mud, but it seemed that people were not of interest to her. She could have fooled him. But perhaps when it came to her art it was a different story.

She walked into the room only a few seconds behind him, heading to a small bookshelf in the corner nearest to the doorway. It was only then that he even noticed it was there since it was facing away from him on the opposite side of the wall, catching sight of a blend of colorful papers at the top and the menagerie of canvases at the bottom. He realized rather quickly that this was probably the place where she stored her works once they were finished. Or at least somewhat finished. A few of them seem to be half done but he was actually having a bit of a hard time making out all the different shapes and colors He needed to focus on something in particular.

And as if she knew this, she grabbed a sketchbook off of the shelf and folded it open, flipping through a few of the images until she landed upon one that she seemed to think he would enjoy, taking a deep breath in order to calm herself. This clearly took a lot of courage on her part, and he silently wondered if there was something to that.

It was clear that she was wondering if he would like what she was going to offer to show him. He doubted that he would hate it, but he wondered all the same whether or not she was shy to show him her art because she thought it was bad or because she thought he would think it was. He wondered why she cared about his approval. Perhaps it was just a part of human nature? He didn't seek the approval of… 

Oh.

"These are some of my most recent projects. They're my best work so far. Hopefully… I hope they're not terrible. And you like them." She said as she handed him the notebook, the drawing she had picked on the top. He turned the notebook around with a nod before staring at the picture, taking it in for a moment before flipping to the next. And to say that he was surprised would be an understatement.

Beautiful illustrations of the natural world covered every page, charcoal and graphite being the primary tools used to achieve the look she desired. The lines were clearly defined and purposeful, and the blending was top-notch, smooth and precise. She had clearly put in many long hours to achieve this look. It was the sort of thing that only came from a lifetime of practice and a steady hand; time and technique paying off in spades. And while it was not perfect or even the best art that he had ever seen, it was undeniably impressive, and I got the impression that perfection wasn't what she was aiming for in the first place. It was style. And she had certainly nailed that.

"... What is there to not like about them?" He asked earnestly, perplexed as to why she had seemed to demonstrate so much anxiety about showing them to him. He imagined that if he could draw this well he would have confidence in his works, although it was undoubtedly true that he would strive to continuously improve. That was simply who he was. But she was far from awful, that much was clear. Vergil wondered why she didn't have more confidence in her skills.

"So you… they're good?" She said, her tone filled with disbelief. She seemed genuinely surprised that he hadn't tossed the notebook aside and walked out of the door in disgust. And it wasn't an act. Far from it, in fact. Every facet of her face from the slight widening of her pupils to the ever-so-subtle upturn of the corner of her mouth and the raising of her eyebrows made that clear. She had expected him to not like her work, that much was clear.

"I think so. Better than anything I could ever do. Not that I've tried." He said simply, speaking honestly. He'd never really gotten into drawing. He tried it once or twice as a child, but that had been more his brother's thing, not that Dante's crayon scribbles had been anything he'd dare call art. Though he imagined his parents would have disagreed in that way that parents always seem to. He imagined it held a certain charm to the parents of the child when their offspring created some hideous amalgamation of colors and shapes that would probably request a swift and merciful death should it be able to speak for them.

Now it was Vergil's turn to ask a few questions. His curiosity had been piqued by the contrast between her artwork and her reaction to his reaction to it. He was clearly missing something here. "If you thought that they were terrible, why did you continue?"

A look that he was unfamiliar with flashed across her face. In a mixture of grief and disappointment, the muscles in her neck quivering as she pinched her lips together, turning them inward. Her shoulders pulled inward and pointed upward as she drew into herself, wounded by something he didn't understand.  

"Because… I had to believe they were. It was all I could do." She said as her gaze shifted down towards the floor, her eyes unable to meet his. She clutched the notebook tightly, not crinkling or tearing it but bending the cardboard backing ever so slightly. "My father always told me they weren't any good. He worked in antiquities and spent a lot of time around collections of vintage fine art. Every time I showed him one of my drawings even as a little girl he always told me that my works were nothing special, especially compared to the masters. So I studied the artists he liked. I wanted to be good like them so badly. I wanted him to tell me just once that he likes something I did. So I kept practicing and practicing hoping that one day I'd be good enough. That on the rare occasion that he came home he would look at my art with adoration like he did the art he worked with. That he would look at me with adoration. But in over a decade that's never happened a single time."

Vergil remained silent, utterly unsure as to how he was supposed to follow a statement like that. His father had never expressed disappointment with his skills or interests. He had only ever wanted to be like his father. To honor his unsurmountable legacy as his oldest son. He had pushed himself to be the very best because he knew that it would be impressive to his father, or at least he had hoped it would be, but he couldn't imagine what he would feel in the depths of his very being of his father had told him that he simply wasn't good enough. To be told that he possessed known talent and that he simply wasn't anything special, even if that were the truth. To him, his father had been utterly perfect, and although their relationship hadn't always been, he would have never dreamed of being told something so heartless by Sparda or his mother, for that matter. He didn't think his father even had it in him to voice that kind of opinion. And that was to say nothing of how his mother would have torn him apart should he have done so.

His father had been firm but caring, offering encouragement and feedback when needed. He offered guidance on matters that he understood and attempted to learn things that he did not in order to be more helpful to them. He had shown patience in situations when Vergil himself was sure that he personally would have cracked. Sparda wanted to see him improve. It seemed to bring him satisfaction when he or his brother did well. Her father didn't seem to be anything like that to him. 

… He missed them both so much.

"Your father is a buffoon." The Darkslayer said that word as though it left a foul taste in his mouth. If it were up to his preferences he would not refer to a man who treated his child that way as a parent, but he had nothing else to call him. He imagined that he was the sort of man his mother would have hated. She never believed in stifling creativity even when that creativity was something she didn't understand like Dante's senseless little games and Vergil's own solitary obsession with literature, especially poetry. She'd simply smile and nod, giving them encouragement through her presence alone. She believed that the innocence and whimsy of a child was something that should be protected and nurtured for as long as it could be before the crushing reality of growing up set in, something that she and Sparda had many discussions about over the years before his disappearance. Never arguments or fights, but a few heated discussions. Yes. Eva would have hated this woman's father with every fiber of her being. And she probably wouldn't have been quiet about it.

A single, solitary tear ran from her eye and down her cheek until it dripped off of her chin onto the edge of the paper, causing a small blemish on the art. It was barely noticeable, but it was there nonetheless. She quietly set the notebook down and leaned on the desk, her back to him. She was clearly trying to compose herself and failing. It seemed that she wasn't keen on shedding tears in front of a stranger, either.

"You're absolutely right. I told him something like that the last time I saw him. On the front steps of our house. And then I took my bags and walked away. I won't repeat the words he said to me in response; The things he called me as I left him behind. I know none of his words should matter and that he's wrong. But they still do somehow." She used a crumpled-up piece of paper to wipe her eye, the medium too stiff to work effectively much like blowing your nose into copy paper, but she didn't seem to care. It got the job done regardless. "Sometimes I think about sending him some of my art to show him how much I've improved. And then I remember… That pigment on paper has always mattered more to him than me."

Vergil looked away from her for a moment, back into the photographs on the wall and the artwork that filled that room. There were no people in any of them. And now it made sense. Because she was alone here with nothing but her work. The work that she did because she had no idea what else to do. It had consumed so much of her, her desire to achieve an idealized version of herself that didn’t exist. The loneliness was suddenly suffocating. And somewhere deep within himself, the part of him that didn’t want to acknowledge anything that he perceived as a flaw couldn’t shake the feeling that this realization was like holding a mirror up to himself. And that infuriated him.

“... Put your boots back on. Let’s take a walk.”.

(-~-)

Hi again! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! I've been slower than I’d like getting to your comments, so I just wanted to let you know that I see them and I’m answering them but I have like 20 in my inbox right now and I’ve just been busy lately. Thank you for all the support and feel free to keep them coming! I love chatting with all of you! See you on Friday! Bye bye!

[eschercaine]

ᴋɪʟʟ ᴏꜰꜰ ᴀʟʟ ᴍʏ ᴅᴇᴍᴏɴꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍʏ ᴀɴɢᴇʟꜱ ᴍɪɢʜᴛ ᴅɪᴇ ᴛᴏᴏ. — ᴛᴇɴɴᴇꜱꜱᴇᴇ ᴡɪʟʟɪᴀᴍꜱ

8:10 p.m.

Harrold is whistling as he’s walking into the shop.

He walks to find the inside to be barely lit and finds Daemon practically asleep on his chair, only waking up when he entered the shop.

“You could’ve at least knocked, Harrold,” says Daemon, his eyes still closed shut.

“Yeah, I could have. But I got some news.”

Daemon sighed, removing the magazine from his face and putting it on his desk with a small yawn. “Just speak.”

He walks over to sit down on a chair across from him. “I got a gig. Cash, up front.”

Daemon’s ears perked up. “Cash up front? This, I like.” Harrold walks over to him to give him his cash. “Water, gas, and power... Comin’ outta your cut.”

Soon after, the shop’s lights, fan, and jukebox turn on as the power comes back on. “Okay, Westerling, I’ll take you up on that gig since I’ve got nothing else to do.”

The old man chuckles and gestured to the door. “Meet your new client.”

A girl with silver-blonde hair and lilac eyes walks into the shop and waits near the door.

Daemon’s chest tightens. He pauses to process the person who is in front of him right now. “Rhaenyra?”

He left home after his brother ousted him for being a disgrace. Rhaenyra was ten at that time. Now, she has grown. Time flies!

Westerling flitted his eyes from the girl to Daemon, shocked by the new revelation. “You two know each other?”

“She’s…” Daemon purses his lips. “She’s my niece.”

“Uncle,” Rhaenyra says with no hesitation.

Daemon narrowed his eyes at her, frowning, then the realization hit him. He turns to Harrold. “Wait. She’s my client?” he asked, pointing at her.

Harrold nods. “That’s right.”

“Wha— Why?” he stammers. “Wait, what is this gig all about, anyway?”

Harrold opens his mouth to speak, but Rhaenyra interjects. “I want you to be my guardian.”

Daemon wanted to laugh. Instead, he huffs, running his hand through his hair. Did they just disturb his sleep for something trivial like this? “Look, I may be a man who does odd jobs, but babysitting is not one of them,” he replies.

Rhaenyra walks towards him, her hands tucked in the back. “I’ve heard a lot of things about you, uncle. And trust me, this might be worth your while,” she says, meeting his eyes without flinching.

“Oh?” Daemon raised an eyebrow. “How so, my dearest niece?”

She smiles.

“They are following me as of late… those demons.”

[fenartoftheserotonin]

Hey gang? Yell at me to finish some fics.

The Serotonin Tsum needs encouragement. Better yet, I'll let yall use my tsums to yeet at me.

[river-muse]

For the WIP ask game: I want to hear more about "Lost in the Stars!" that one sounds like it could very easily rip out a reader's heart 👀

Ohohoho you picked out one of my DMC crossover AU ones. This one is a little more lighthearted in overall tone compared to my other fics actually! "Lost In The Stars" is just the working title for it since I haven't come up with a better title. It's because I have been playing way too much Sky: Children of The Light in my downtime when not doing other things and accidentally my skykid keeps creeping closer and closer to looking like Nero.

I'll talk more about it under the cut!

So after letting the idea boil around in my head for a few days the first thing I made was this fake screenshot (in truth this is a partial lie, the BG was different but since writing the fic I've changed it):

But of course, I wasn't happy with just some art.

It follows the formula of the actual game (which I don't wanna spoil the surprise for anyone who hasn't played it so I won't go to deep into detail) which means revisiting the locations over again multiple times. There isn't too much substantial here besides what can be read between the lines, with Dante being referred to as the Kind Protector and Vergil being referred to as the Regretful Brother. It's definitely an excuse to draw fake screenshots and mess around with star overlays.

Now onto the excerpts! These are way more narrative heavy, reflective of how the game itself works.

Nero is on his second reincarnation when he saves the Kind Protector from the endless darkness. Out in the Golden Wasteland surrounded by the ever-looming and ever-hunting Dark Dragons whose spines hurt more than can be put into words. A faint glimmer of the spirit’s surviving light lay hidden amidst the spires and covered up by growth that burns apart at the close proximity of Nero’s candle. The lost light leads Nero through treacherous open area, showing a man with vibrant red wings wielding a weapon against the beasts- something that Nero has never seen any previous spirit do. The Kind Protector was fending a Dark Dragon off to buy time for someone else to survive. There, in this field of poisoned water that saps strength and has too many gazing eyes above Nero finds the spirit’s final resting place. Still kneeling as if still holding onto a sword that’s been lost to an untold amount of time. Nero fails to free the spirit the first time, having to hide away in a tunnel while a Dark Dragon passes overhead and sweeps the area for prey. Then he leans close to the petrified remains while calling on his candle to share his own sparse light. The Kind Protector, for that’s all Nero thinks to call him, poses with an ephemeral sword in hand as if ready to fight before anything else. Nero mimics it. It feels silly seeing as he doesn’t have a sword. That earns a musical laugh from the Kind Protector, which only flusters Nero. Nero stomps his feet and points at the sword in the Kind Protector’s hands before motioning to himself. The Kind Protector waggles his finger to say no, refusing to pass the sword over for Nero to try posing with it. Instead he ruffles Nero’s hair and points to Nero’s chest. Nero holds his hands over where his light is seen, looking down at them before glancing up and thinking to find a way to ask what that meant.

-

The first time Nero sees the faint flash of a lost light high on a cliff, he thinks he’s strong enough to reach it. The ascension through the rain drains him and the water below is so cold. He has no choice but to huddle against a brazier inside a hollow log to warm up. His body shakes and he hiccups from the involuntary shivers as his light struggles to pull him back from the cold. He calls out his candle to feel warmer and huddles down. He’s on his eighth reincarnation, and most spirits seem to be freed yet he refuses to leave any lost before moving on for good. This one seems stubborn though. Or almost too hurt to save. The light is faint and Nero doesn’t know if they get weaker the more he reincarnates but he doesn’t want to find out. When back at aviary village Nero uses paper and a stick of charcoal to draw the area for the Kind Protector to see, leaving a question mark at the top of the cliff with an arrow pointing from the base towards it. The Kind Protector’s face drops. He rubs at the back of his neck and shrugs while his wings rustle just a bit too much to show he’s hiding something. Nero sighs.

-

When Nero’s twelfth reincarnation rolls around he makes it at last, holding out his candle to the lost light to reawaken it. It seems lost. The spirit aimlessly drifts with Nero’s every step and Nero has to hold out his hand to call it towards the faint glimmer of the beginning of the memory. Nero bears witness to the sight of the Kind Protector standing readied to fight- wings flared and blade raised in a threatening manner. This lost spirit faces him down with equal anger. The two fought. Blades clashed and wings torn at the edges from hits that are too close for comfort. They seemed equally matched. Until the lost spirit’s attacks became more desperate. It was a losing fight, and the spirit falls to his knees while the Kind Protector offers his hand out. It’s slapped away. The spirit rises, backing away from the Kind Protector. The two part ways, and at first Nero can’t tell where the spirit went next, until he spots a shimmer at the base of the cliff. It’s such a large fall into waist deep water. Nero drifts down, soaking his lower body in the water and feeling a chill creep up on him when at last he finds the spirit’s resting place. Crouched with one knee on the floor and a rusty, broken sword driven into the ground to keep balance. Nero offers his candle. It flickers in the rain but persists and at last the shell breaks apart to free the spirit. The spirit’s mask appears different than the memory- lines turned down in sorrow rather than anger. The spirit slicks his hair back the first moment he appears, hiding away that it looks a lot like the Kind Protector’s. Nero mirrors the motion and crosses his arms as he sizes up this- this- Proud Swordsman. That sounds wrong. Lost Swordsman? No. He’s not lost. The likeness to the Kind Protector is too obvious. They were kin. At least, Nero thinks so. The Kind Protector had been hiding this knowledge for some reason. Regretful Brother. It sticks out as the spirit bows just enough to show respect while keeping his eyes on Nero. His gaze burns through Nero the same as any fire. He feels pride. The Regretful Brother offers his hand out for Nero to take. Nero rests his little palm on top of it and the spirit grasps back. There’s a pause as the spirit looks at their hands. Then as soon as he’s there, the Regretful Brother is the first to choose to move on, vanishing into blue particles before Nero can figure out what thought that simple touch had brought about. When Nero returns to Aviary Village to confront the Kind Protector for hiding that he’d known- he searches everywhere and can’t find him. Not in the café. Not at the town square. Not at the top of the bells. Not on the hills overlooking the gates. There isn’t a single glimpse of those red wings.

I don't have too much written for it, but I definitely plan to add more to it in the future! I love playing Sky. Exploring to try and uncover clues as to what exactly happened to their world is super fun.

Thanks for giving me an excuse to actually talk about this one! I haven't really shared it because it's mostly surface level.

[auntarctica]

I do hereby solemnly promise chapters of DNSATS and Lacunae next, but I had to get this out or like, die and shit

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48744976/chapters/125515570#workskin

[purplephloxpress]

Another year, another Fanfiction Writers Appreciation Day!!!! If you are a writer of fanfic, please know just how appreciated you are!! Fandom would be such a different space without your creativity and labors of love. 💜

Holidays are all about making traditions, and the bookbinding friends with @renegadeguild once again came together to bind copies of fics for their authors as a show of our appreciation. This year I had the absolute joy of binding Emergency Help Wanted by the wonderful @piyo-13 and even got to collaborate with her on some of the design elements! It's a Modern AU Jiang Cheng/Lan Xichen fic that starts with a "help wanted" ad.

EMERGENCY HELP WANTED

I lied when I got my job. I told them I had a kid so I could leave early from work to pick him up from daycare, take him to doctor's appointments, and occasionally miss a day when he's sick. Long story short, I'm in too deep. I didn't think it through. Looking to rent a kid for bring your child to work day. Must be a boy ages four to six, longish dark hair, likes soccer. Must also be artistic as the macaroni noodle paintings I made seem a little advanced for his age. Also, I will pay extra for someone willing to play the role of husband when dropping him off. He's a prosecuting attorney who often brings his work home. Message me for further details. Serious inquiries only.

Ok. So. I may have gone a little feral with this one. Online "help wanted" ad spiraled into loading wheel scene dividers, spiraled into fake Google search result headers, spiraled into FULLY committing to those authentic looking text messages. In full color. (There are so many. I typeset in MS Word. It was SO worth it, but god what a struggle at some points.) And don't forget the "recent searches" title page! Or the computer cutout on the cover! (It's bluescreening, just like Lan Xichen through this entire fic!) Also that cover/title page image that I just kept adding details to. (It's supposed to be Lan Xichen's desk, so it simply didn't feel right until it had sticky notes on the computer, #1 dad on the mug, scissors and measuring tape, scribbles on the sticky notes) Did I have a ton of fun designing this one? Perhaps. Couldn't say. Maybe just a tad. (This is a lie I had an ABSOLUTE BLAST!)

Historically, I've waited until I finish at least the typeset before reaching out to the author, but not so with this one! I got the idea for the fake google search results from Piyo's authors notes, teasing the contents of the next chapter. But! Those didn't start until about chapter 4! So I reached out and asked if we could collaborate and I'm forever glad I did! Not only does this have teasers for each chapter, I also got to bounce design ideas off of her, including what shade of blue and purple for the text messages. Because my friends, that is a serious matter and changed SEVERAL times throughout the process.

Also shoutout to all my Renegade friends who gave input and encouragement over the past year while I worked on this (what endpages to use? how to make this shade of green perfectly Nie Huaisang? how do we feel about this text message design? or how about this one?) - I love you all dearly and appreciate you so much for putting up with my nonsense at all times.

Binding details below the cut!

Fandom: The Untamed/Mo Dao Zu Shi

Pairing: Jiang Cheng | Jiang Wanyin / Lan Huan | Lan Xichen

Bookcloth: Aqua/Purple Dubletta from Colophon Book Arts

Endpapers: Craft Consortium Ink Drops - Ocean pack

Textblock paper: short grain cream from Church Paper

Titling: We R Memory Keepers foil quill

Endbands: leather cording core, DMC embroidery floss for the bands

Body Font: EB Garamond

Title Font: Berlin Sans FB

Text Messages: Roboto

Additional fonts: Times New Roman, Kunstler Script, Magis Authentic

Title page image from Rawpixel and designed in Canva

Various computer graphics from The Noun Project

Tumblr insists on eating and doubling text in this section at its own whim, so if there's something missing that you're curious about, feel free to DM me an ask!